#free genetic testing

[nancymcl]

Just enrolled in this research program. Filled out questionnaires online and had a 15-20 minutes visit to draw blood and take body measurements. Please read and consider joining. Biggest bonus for me is the genetic testing. Like a combo of 23 and Me plus medical genetic issues screenings. The genetic testing which would cost hundreds of dollars is free as part of the program.

Look it over and consider if you would like to be included. Oh, and $25 gift card after in person appointment.

https://allofus.nih.gov/

[pomegranatecraft]

just some guys

[aprincessofthevoid]

Lil ranty here I apologize, but my Dr's office is useless

How tf does a doctors office LOSE results from a Holter monitor test??? Like you mfs think I just F O R G O T being hooked up to wires n tape n shit for 3 gd days??? Hello??? I fr need a new doctor... this office also lost multuple referrals to diff specialists

Which BTW when I got into see the ppl eventually conformed I have a GIGANTIC mass on my uterus that's trying to glue itself to my spine AND the other one was an audiologist who confirmed I had minor hearing loss... not a call back about either. No fucks given...

Best part?? I asked to be switched to a diff doctor cus there's one seeing 3 outta 4 of my immediate fam that lives here (One just doesn't live as close to this clinic as the rest of us) and they claim they don't swap patients between Dr's... yet I've seen 3 other doctors at appointments that were SUPPOSE to be "my" Dr and only saw my ACTUAL doctor when I had a breakdown and told their upper management about all the bullshit and issues and misreading of results I'd experienced (skipping the 8x8x9cm mass and reading where i had a 2cm cyst)... so they got in trouble and are revving up the damage control rn cus I probably COULD fucking sue for medical neglect at this point... OH and the referral that they supposedly made that the specialist, said specalist claims they had absolutely no record of. Not that I like, missed it, or it got denied. It NEVER HAPPENED lmfao.

Also this is all a bigger issue rn with my uterus trying to glue my organs together cus I found out I'm pregnant... and was apparently suppose to have my first appointment with the OB like 7-8 weeks... I'm 8 weeks 3 days rn and they don't have an opening for almost 2 weeks... cus one of the mfs are going on a short vacation... yall pray for me cus I'm either gonna have to go full Karen or imma fr have to resist burning the place down at this rate...

[teaboot]

Sometimes I think a lot about my mom's cat

My mom's cat is a common domestic shorthair we found on the side of the road as a kitten

Regular cat, not a maine coon or one of those massive breeds. His mom was smaller than a loaf of bread

But in a sort of a Clifford The Big Red Dog situation, he grew super fast, and really really big, and took a super long time to stop growing

Worried that she was overfeeding him, she eased back his portions, but he stayed a massive round baby

When he started having kidney problems, she took him to the vet.

The vet took a look at him and said, "holy fuck, what are you feeding him", checked the nutritional listings on his chow, and told her "Yeah, maybe he's reacting badly to the amount of grain in this, try a meatier diet"

So my mom wound up special-ordering this specific high-protein prescription cat food made of like. Kangaroo meat or some shit that cost like sixty bucks a bag

And, as typical act two in an episode of House, he somehow got worse on the fancy specialized stuff that was supposed to be Primo Athlete Olympic Feline Blend

Like. WAY worse. His guts were inflamed and his kidneys were shutting down and he was all sore and HE WAS STILL HUGE, just miserable and sad

So shetook him back to the vet, where they had to help him pee (he was apparently close to bursting and had some kind of blockage too) and went "Yeah no this is NOT normal and we don't know what's going on, we're gonna do some tests but in the meantime you should go back to what he was eating before, at least that wasn't actively killing him" so she did

And he still wasn't great, but he also improved

And so they take his blood and do an ultrasound and a couple g's later she gets a call back like "this is gonna sound crazy, but we want you to put him on a low-meat diet. Just the least amount of protein and iron and shit. We need you to find the grainiest, filler-iest dollar tree kibble available and give him some of that bad bad shit"

And my mother is a woman of science. So she did

And he GOT BETTER

His energy picked back up, inflammation went down, he started drinking normally again, got back to pissing like a fuckin champion

And so it turns out that out of all the random ass freeway bonus cats we possibly could have scooped out of a ditch, WE got the one-in-a-million freak of nature with a SPECIFIC genetic defect that means a paleo protein free range diet is essentially poison and he THRIVES on cheap ass garbage

Like. He medically NEEDS junk food

I dont really understand how that works, but i cant argue with results.

If we had four of him, they'd outweigh my mom. And he's FINE

Also blind, but that's unrelated

Im not using him as a symbol or a metaphor or anything. I just keep catching myself thinking about my mom's Big Fucking Cat

[harmeet-saggi]

Veggie By Nature: The Fascinating Connection Between Your DNA And Vegetarianism

Are you a vegetarian by choice, or do you feel an intrinsic pull toward a plant-based diet? The answer may not solely be a matter of preference; it could be imprinted within your very DNA. In this extensive guide, we'll uncover the captivating connection between your genetics and vegetarianism, equipping you with the knowledge to make informed dietary decisions based on your unique genetic makeup.

[reasonsforhope]

"A large clinical trial in South Africa and Uganda has shown that a twice-yearly injection of a new pre-exposure prophylaxis drug gives young women total protection from HIV infection.

The trial tested whether the six-month injection of lenacapavir would provide better protection against HIV infection than two other drugs, both daily pills. All three medications are pre-exposure prophylaxis (or PrEP) drugs.

Physician-scientist Linda-Gail Bekker, principal investigator for the South African part of the study, tells Nadine Dreyer what makes this breakthough so significant and what to expect next.

Tell us about the trial and what it set out to achieve

The Purpose 1 trial with 5,000 participants took place at three sites in Uganda and 25 sites in South Africa to test the efficacy of lenacapavir and two other drugs.

Lenacapavir (Len LA) is a fusion capside inhibitor. It interferes with the HIV capsid, a protein shell that protects HIV’s genetic material and enzymes needed for replication. It is administered just under the skin, once every six months.

The randomised controlled trial, sponsored by the drug developers Gilead Sciences, tested several things.

The first was whether a six-monthly injection of lenacapavir was safe and would provide better protection against HIV infection as PrEP for women between the ages of 16 and 25 years than Truvada F/TDF, a daily PrEP pill in wide use that has been available for more than a decade.

Secondly, the trial also tested whether Descovy F/TAF, a newer daily pill, was as effective as F/TDF...

The trial had three arms. Young women were randomly assigned to one of the arms in a 2:2:1 ratio (Len LA: F/TAF oral: F/TDF oral) in a double blinded fashion. This means neither the participants nor the researchers knew which treatment participants were receiving until the clinical trial was over.

In eastern and southern Africa, young women are the population who bear the brunt of new HIV infections. They also find a daily PrEP regimen challenging to maintain, for a number of social and structural reasons.

During the randomised phase of the trial none of the 2,134 women who received lenacapavir contracted HIV. There was 100 percent efficiency.

By comparison, 16 of the 1,068 women (or 1.5%) who took Truvada (F/TDF) and 39 of 2,136 (1.8%) who received Descovy (F/TAF) contracted the HIV virus...

What is the significance of these trials?

This breakthrough gives great hope that we have a proven, highly effective prevention tool to protect people from HIV.

There were 1.3 million new HIV infections globally in the past year. Although that’s fewer than the 2 million infections seen in 2010, it is clear that at this rate we are not going to meet the HIV new infection target that UNAIDS set for 2025 (fewer than 500,000 globally) or potentially even the goal to end Aids by 2030...

For young people, the daily decision to take a pill or use a condom or take a pill at the time of sexual intercourse can be very challenging.

HIV scientists and activists hope that young people may find that having to make this “prevention decision” only twice a year may reduce unpredictability and barriers.

For a young woman who struggles to get to an appointment at a clinic in a town or who can’t keep pills without facing stigma or violence, an injection just twice a year is the option that could keep her free of HIV.

What happens now?

The plan is that the Purpose 1 trial will go on but now in an “open label” phase. This means that study participants will be “unblinded”: they will be told whether they have been in the “injectable” or oral TDF or oral TAF groups.

They will be offered the choice of PrEP they would prefer as the trial continues.

A sister trial is also under way: Purpose 2 is being conducted in a number of regions including some sites in Africa among cisgender men, and transgender and nonbinary people who have sex with men.

It’s important to conduct trials among different groups because we have seen differences in effectiveness. Whether the sex is anal or vaginal is important and may have an impact on effectiveness.

How long until the drug is rolled out?

We have read in a Gilead Sciences press statement that within the next couple of months [from July 2024] the company will submit the dossier with all the results to a number of country regulators, particularly the Ugandan and South African regulators.

The World Health Organization will also review the data and may issue recommendations.

We hope then that this new drug will be adopted into WHO and country guidelines.

We also hope we may begin to see the drug being tested in more studies to understand better how to incorporate it into real world settings.

Price is a critical factor to ensure access and distribution in the public sector where it is badly needed.

Gilead Sciences has said it will offer licences to companies that make generic drugs, which is another critical way to get prices down.

In an ideal world, governments will be able to purchase this affordably and it will be offered to all who want it and need protection against HIV."

-via The Conversation, July 3, 2024

[shantechni]

Some of my observations about Link Click: Yingdu Chapter

⚠️Spoilers for S1, S2, & Yingdu Chapter, but mostly the Yingdu Chapter⚠️

Now that the final episode has aired and finished with a bang, I can properly start another observation and theory post without the threat of immediately being proven wrong💀As per usual, feel free to correct me on anything and add your own info should I not include it.

A post-Bridon interview between director Li Haoling and Hui Xiao Hui revealed that Xia Fei held onto the cat ears hat the whole time and returned it to Cheng Xiaoshi and Lu Guang.

That same interview also had the director hinting at the possibility of Liu Xiao having more than one power, along with the fact that Liu Xiao has planned everything early on and that S3 will reveal his motives.

Considering Li Haoling's comment about the three ways someone could inherit powers (1: genetics, 2: passed through death, and 3: killing to steal), this could mean Liu Xiao has either received a power by having it passed to him from someone on their death bed, killed someone for their power, or is genuinely adopted, chat did y'all manifest this—

One major reveal from the interview was the confirmation of Lu Guang having looped through one timeline, not branching off and jumping to new timelines as many (including myself) grew to believe. A.k.a., there are no parallel universes or multiple timelines. I went over this in the notes, but imagine overwriting a cassette tape or hitting the reset button on a device.

Though there are still a number of discrepancies this fact fails to explain or clear up, Shao Yuanyuan telling Cheng Xiaoshi to not concern himself with investigating her and his father lends credence to him not knowing where they are or when they're coming back in S1.

The person Vein speaks to over the phone certainly isn't Liu Xiao, namely because Liu Xiao spends half of the episode playing faux Tetris on his phone, but also because Vein strictly uses English while on the phone with this mystery person. Perhaps he was in contact with someone associated with Yingdu's Chinese Chamber of Commerce (Vein is the leader after all), or simply an unknown figure that he has ties with and was informed by that person that Wang Qing has possession of the notebook.

Late addition: the show speaks for itself, but Vein needed Wang Qing's student ID, along with any other bits of information Lu Guang and Cheng Xiaoshi discovered about her, to track her down with the help of whoever he remained in contact with.

Another late addition: It's been confirmed in the interview that Vein wants Cheng Weimin's book for himself, just like Liu Xiao.

Wang Qing's power involves faking death, something that's been hinted at by her student ID number translating to "fake death ability user."

The information of Wang Qing's classmates has been blurred out, but it's all unique text and some of it can even be made out. The pages for Amy and Blair (the girls that bullied Wang Qing) appear briefly, and though Amy's information is harder to make out, Blair's is somewhat discernable.

The kid that used his power during the test also appears, but the most that can be made out from his page is a middle initial. It should also be noted that Wang Qing had the most absences among the students we saw pages for, and that Cheng Weimin wrote, "Intervention needed," on her page.

We finally know the fates of Cheng Xiaoshi's parents. While Cheng Weimin is certainly dead from the fire at Bahati (confirmed by the ISBN number of the Sonnet Shakespeare book), Shao Yuanyuan is still alive somewhere.

Shao Yuanyuan's use of possession through a photo confirms that Cheng Xiaoshi received his ability through genetics. While we don't know if she is the original holder of the power or if she gained the power from Cheng Weimin after he died, it's clear Cheng Xiaoshi gained his power from either of his parents.

Li Haoling confirmed that death results in the passing of one's power, meaning there's a chance Lu Guang can still possess someone through a photo they took. But while it certainly appears that Lu Guang possessed Wang Qing and used her fake death power on Vein, it doesn't explain how he could've possessed her without having a photo she'd taken in that very moment (Shao Yuanyuan received the photo she took of Cheng Xiaoshi and possesed her that way). Edit two days later: a new video of an interview had Liu Haoling confirming that Lu Guang did not possess Wang Qing

One user on Twitter pointed out a detail on Liu Xiao's phone: the date on his phone is not the current date in Yingdu (June 2019). They also stated, "This is the evening, probably around 5 pm, which would be the same time as 00:05 September 13 in China."

While the above point could be an error, it should be noted that a box of text appeared during Bilibili's and seemingly only Bilibili's version of the episode: "Three years later, after the Li twins case." This whole thread is interesting actually, give it a go.

Speaking of errors, Li Haoling stated that Cheng Xiaoshi's eyes being yellow as he and Lu Guang run from Vivian's situation in EP1 was an animation error. The entire season, particularly the earlier episodes, are riddled with errors like these, most likely due to the schedule changes (this season was originally set to premiere in April of 2025 at the latest but was rushed to Dec of 2024).

On the topic of dates, Lu Guang came to the reset timeline on April 11th and passes the 12 hour mark once the clock hits 5:32AM (meaning he possibly and originally met Cheng Xiaoshi four days prior to the guy's birthday).

Vein interestingly uses darts on Cheng Xiaoshi and Wang Qing rather than real bullets as he's done in the EP1 opener. It's also unknown if he's aware of powers, let alone that Shao Yuanyuan was in control of Wang Qing as they fought.

This is another late additon, but a fan on Twitter compiled a full timeline of S1, S2 and Yingdu, also heavily detailing a lot of the inconsistencies that's been plaguing the fandom in a concise manner.

It's implied that Wang Qing needs a person's real name in order to use her fake death power on them, though it's unclear how she knows Vein's real name.

For once we ended the season without a death, though we have no idea what happened to Xia Fei and his former colleague Jack, who were both reported to have recently gone missing after we cut back to Lu Guang in present day China.

CHENG XIAOSHI GOT THAT DUMPHY

Vein's real name is Xiao Weiying

Back to the book with the eye (the same book Cheng Weimin had in his desk), it's being heavily speculated that the book contains either classified information on the students of Bahati (particularly the ones with powers), or something deeper. Either way, Shao Yuanyuan's statement about the fire being started on purpose supports the idea of someone starting the fire in the hopes of grabbing the book while Cheng Weimin leaves it behind or dies.

The idea of it holding information on the students' powers, or simply being a catalogue of all of the powers Cheng Weimin has crossed paths with, seems likely with Liu Xiao potentially being another seeker of the notebook.

Liu Xiao was the one seen unzipping Vein's body bag in the post credits scene.

Qiao Ling asks why Cheng Xiaoshi changed the studio's name from "Hero Photo Studio" to "Time Photo Studio," and while he gives his indirect answer of being connected through time, we can infer that changing the name is his way of keeping his promise with his mother after leaving Bridon. To make things clearer, a flashback in S1E10 confirms that the name of the studio hadn't changed while Cheng Xiaoshi and Qiao Ling were renovating (which is also when Qiao Ling first meets Lu Guang).

Lu Guang hasn't blushed once in the Yingdu Chapter, but Cheng Xiaoshi has (which makes for a grand total of two blushes from Cheng Xiaoshi and a stagnant five for Lu Guang).

Li Haoling stated in the interview that Cheng Xiaoshi will die in 2022.

When asked if Xia Fei was a survivor of the Bahati fire, Li Haoling dodged the question.

Soon after the fire at Bahati took place, Shao Yuanyuan tasked Wang Qing with allowing her to speak with her son through her someday. Since Wang Qing was still a student and in the hospital at the time, this means she's remained in contact with Shao Yuanyuan for 10 years.

Li Haoling commented during the interview that Lu Guang doesn't know about Vein having come back to life.

He also stated that Shao Yuanyuan would have interactions with Lu Guang in S3.

Actually, here's a full thread of translations for the interview, and a slight summarization of what was said.

The artwork Bilibili released to commemorate the series reaching 700 million followers on their site has this message in the tweet: "The game between "Hunter" and "Mastermind" continues, turning over the cards in the mystery and throwing the final chip." We can infer from past context clues that Liu Xiao is the hunter and Lu Guang is the mastermind.

Cheng Xiaoshi volunteered to play the flower fairy in the third grade despite the role calling for a girl (among other embarrassing stories Shao Yuanyuan told to make Cheng Xiaoshi believe it's her in Wang Qing, she's quite the charcter).

Shao Yuanyuan's speech about saving Cheng Weimin implies she's on a similar journey as Lu Guang (they're both desperately trying to save someone they're close to by resetting the timeline).

Wang Qing goes by the alias "Chris" for her psychiatry business, though it's unknown if her business is still continuing after she disappeared with Cheng Weimin's book.

Considering Shao Yuanyuan's lines when she finds Cheng Weimin in the fire, she was likely not meant to be there at the time, and possibly confused Cheng Weimin. That would explain how blasé he appeared to be about leaving Cheng Xiaoshi in China, if we're to believe that Shao Yuanyuan would usually be in China with their kid while he's in Bridon at the language school.

Cheng Xiaoshi changed the background of his conversation with Xia Fei to a picture he took with him during their modeling gig.

Aight, my well has run dry, and once again I'm certain I'm forgetting something (definitely forgot to go more in depth with the two pieces of artwork that dropped around EP6's premiere), but I hope this is satisfactory in some regards. Again, correct me or add anything I may have missed, time for me to hunker down for the long 2+ year wait until S3 arrives😭

[shadow4-1]

I'm just imagining an a/b/o dynamic where the entire 141, including you, are all Alphas. Except, after a few years of such close contact something starts to shift.

You start to become an Omega.

"Why is this happening to me?" You all but wail. It hurts to breathe, everything feels like it's on fire. Your stomach twists again, painful cramps shooting white hot lighting up your spine. "Why does it hurt so bad?"

Your pack is all around you, trying to soothe you in anyway they can but it's not working. Everything hurts, your teeth feel like they're going to crack from how tight you have them gritted. The wave of pain ebbs for a few gracious seconds before starting up all over again. You whine and sob and reach out for any of your team.

"Whats going on?" Price huffs, his cool hand cupping at your face. His touch is the barest relief even as he drags down one of your lower eyelids. He tuts in an intense concern. "Simon, have you seen this before?"

The larger male drops to one knee. He gives you a quick once over before dipping his head towards yours. He presses the front of his mask to the crown of your head. Through your labored panting you barely hear him take in a deep inhale of scent.

He coughs and stands back up too quickly. Judging by his flighty gaze, something is seriously wrong. Another tremor of pain wracks your body. You open mouth squeal. It's getting so much worse.

"Simon!" Soap growls, trying to bring his fellow alpha back from whatever memory he'd fallen into. "What's wrong wit' 'er?"

"She's turning into an Omega."

Everyone in the room turned their gazes towards Ghost, even you, despite your pain. You? An Omega? But you've always been and Alpha. It was part of the necessary requirements to be a part of the 141. You'd been genetically tested, hormonally tested, and aptitude tested. You were a full blooded Alpha coming from generations of Alphas.

"There's...ngh...no way." You hiccup out, tears blurring your vision.

"That doesn't make any sense. That can't happen." Gaz adds. He rubs at your back. His cool touch soothes even more of your pain into a dull throb, but it isn't enough.

"M' n' Alpha!" You cry out in anguish, the first of many tears finally dripping down your cheeks.

Something about Ghost's words hurt worse than any pain your body was making you go through. Try as you may to deny it, he was right. You could feel your body changing, altering, breaking and bending.

"Why is this happening to me?" You wail.

"There's too many of us." Ghost huffs, he glances around at your pack.

"Why does that matter?" Soap grumbles, scooping an arm around your center to pull you up into a sitting position. "We're a pack."

"That's just it." Ghost sighs tiredly.

"I've never heard of this being 'n issue." Price butts in. He grabs your face again and brushes the tears off your cheeks. "Task Forces are fully Alpha run. They 'ave been for years."

"If what Ghost is saying is right, it's biological, Captain." Gaz huffs, his thoughts visibly racing. "Too many Alphas, not enough Omegas. It means we'd go extinct."

"But why didn't she change earlier?" Johnny asks. You teeter in his hold but he keeps you upright. He lets you lean against his chest. He smells more comforting than usual.

"It's hormonal. She's been with us almost three years now, it takes time." Ghost says. Price nods in agreement.

"I'm an Alpha!" You sob, trying wrench yourself free from the multiple men around you. "I- I don't want to be bred. I don't want to be claimed! I'm an Alpha!"

"We're know you are, Love." Price breathes softly. He continued to wipe tears away from your face with a tenderness that only makes your despair swell further. "But this is happening, and we can't stop it."

"Take me to sick bay, please. They'll...they'll put me on blockers or something! Please, anything but this! I don't want to be an Omega."

The pack looks toward Ghost but he shakes his head.

"This is you first heat. The blockers will kill you."

You scream in pain, fear, and frustration. Another wave of excruciating pain washes over you. You wrench out of Soap's grip and fall against the floor. The tile is cool against your flushed skin.

As much as you hate him for it, Ghost is right.

This is your first heat.

Your back arches off the floor. Your toes curl and you squeal, shaking, gasping, panting hot breaths. You can feel yourself start to sweat. There's a sudden gush of wetness between your thighs. Embarrassment floods you. You try to curl into a ball but your body keeps being wracked with tremors.

"H-help me..." You cry out weakly, sobbing into the tile.

Your pack seems to finally get a whiff of your fluctuating scent. All around you, you watch as one by one each of their gazes grow more and more pointed. All of you know what must be done. After all, you're an Omega now.

...and there's no going back.

[httpsserene]

hi!! congrats on 3k!! could i request the car wash kink rating with breeding kink for Fernando, Charles, Daniel, Lewis And Franco?

#3k vday celly

🧽🪣 would you like a complimentary car wash? — send me any five (5) drivers and one (1) kink from this list, and i will rank the drivers in order of who i think is most to least likely to participate/avoid, or love/hate that kink !!! each driver will have a small blurb written xxx

༊࿐ ⊹ ˚. i am stupid. and, no, i am not cosplaying as charles leclerc rn. i mixed up my requests during the 3k celly and somehow thought i had already written this prompt for charles when i, very clearly, did not! so sorry about that, love, and i have added charles’ blurb below the cut (i promise it’s actually there this time!) happy 3k🤍 thank you for requesting < 3

⌕ 3k v-day celly nav | all 3k requests | main nav | table of contents ↻

𝐦𝐭𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤 fem!bipoc!reader x dr.3 | fa. 14 | cl. 16 | fc. 43 | lh. 44 cw under the cut.

heavy discussion of pregnancy, children, and domestic life. charles blurb added on april 7th.

𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭

simply put, daniel is going to tell you to take it and let him knock you up. he’s watches his cum threaten to spill and tuts disapprovingly, using his fingers to push any leakage back inside of your cunt. what he really has a kink for is making a family with you. he wants to massage your sore feet and speak to your rounded belly. he wants you to yell at him for getting you pregnant while you’re laboring. he wants to handle the diaper changes, midnight cries, and teething tantrums while you sleep, heal, and relax. he wants to make you brunch-in-bed with your gaggle of mini-me’s for mother’s day. his breeding kink is the manifestation of his longing to start a family with you.

charles tends to lose himself when his hindbrain is triggered. his attention tunnels when your nails sharply pierce his shoulder, instantly halting his thrusts when your other hand weakly pushes against his abdomen, whimpering about how he’s too deep. he hums lowly, pulling his hips backward until he’s threatening to slip out of your cunt (he can feel you tightening around him, your muscles squeezing tightly to draw him back inside the heated, dripping, plush depths). charles adjusts his angle to avoid the head of his cock bullying its way into areas it shouldn’t be. one of his hands collects both of yours, his grip soft but unyielding around your wrists as he presses them into the bed above your head. charles sees the lustful glaze over his eyes reflected in your arousal-blown pupils and he resumes the harsh and deep grind of his hips. his free hand moves to cover your navel, searching for tangible proof of him reaching the deepests part of you before he spills. he’ll continue like this until it takes.

lewis does not want to get you pregnant. at all. he understands that can be hard to believe when he’s fucking into you, delirious with pleasure, as he mindlessly rambles about “needing you to be a good girl and give him a baby.” but, fear not, lewis is well known at the local pharmacy for his frantic plan-b trips. it’s not like he’s fucking you raw either; lewis is an avid fan of protected sex. if anything, the two of you could be the face of several birth-control and condom brands. when male birth control becomes approved, lewis will be the first man in line to get his prescription. then, he might entertain the idea of fucking you raw.

fernando omitted the truth when asked what his biggest fear is on grill the grid. it’s you showing him a positive pregnancy test or ultrasound pictures. he’s not going to judge if you have a kink for being bred, and he could even play into it for you. but, kids? and, one that has half of his genetics? no, fernando will pass on that, he prefers being the handsome, terrifying, yet funny uncle. he truly has kink for being childless—and the two of you don’t have to stress over raising and forming a well-rounded human being. 

franco pretends that he doesn’t have a papi kink; you know he does, and you never let him live it down. but, he could never pretend to have a breeding kink. he’s young, wild, and free—he doesn’t want to think about kids or pregnancy in way during sex. it might be the only thing that can make him soft as soon as the thought pops into his head. sex is fun, and a breeding kink would ruin the fun. your first (and only, please) pregnancy scare scared away any chance of him developing a kink. it terrified him so much, he started tracking your cycle on his phone to be aware of the days you’re fertile and when you’re ovulating. the notification brightens his phone screen and he refuses to put his cock anywhere near your lower half—even with protection—during those days, unless he’s desperate for it.

𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭

© httpsserene — do not reupload. photos in header from pinterest. mdni divider by @cafekitsune.

[lostintransist]

Secrets are for Grownups | Part 7

Part 1 can be found here. AO3

The knock at the door tensed all your muscles. Your fingers are interlaced and buried between your thighs to keep them from shaking.

The bus had left with your boys twenty minutes ago.

John had sat you in the middle seat below the wall of pictures. Larsen’s smiling face gave you comfort, knowing he would have your back had he lived. John sat to your right and Nyla had claimed the space to your left, flanking you, for everyone’s safety. Nyla patted a hand at your elbow before rising from the couch.

When she opens the door Johnny and Simon greet her with a kiss on the cheek and a nod respectfully to you. John stood and offered them a hug, the love they shared fierce even in the short gesture. They sit where directed. Johnny and Simon are thigh to thigh. Simon’s arm stretches along the breadth of Johnny’s shoulders, thumb stroking the side of his neck. Johnny reciprocated by settling a hand on Simon’s thigh. The prominent black band on his hand draws your gaze.

Only the hum of your really old refrigerator breaks the silence as they stare at you and you at them.

John looks from you to his men and back. With a sigh, he edges to the front of the couch and begins as if he were leading a mission briefing.

“The goal here is to come to an understanding regarding the boys. I have spoken with you all at length about this. The boys know about their fathers,” he nodded to the men before turning his gaze, “and you are willing to allow Simon and John time with them correct?”

The question is directed to you. Nodding, you swallow hard. He turned back to the men on the other couch.

“You would like to meet and develop a relationship with the boys, is that also correct?”

Johnny must tighten his hand on Simon’s thigh because Simon settles his free hand on top of his husband’s.

“We would like an opportunity to meet our boys,” Simon replied evenly.

Rage prickled at the back of your neck. Jace and Mac were not their boys, they were yours. Yours and Larsen’s. Squeezing your fingers tighter and staring at your lap allowed you a moment to breathe past the bile rising up your throat.

“What are you expecting this to look like?” John asks.

Unsure if he who he questioned you look up. Finding his eyes on the men sitting on the opposite couch you turn to look at them as well.

“We aren’t sure yet,” Johnny starts, gaze connecting with yours. “We would like to become a stable and consistent part of their lives. They are our sons.”

“Will you tell us about them?” Simon glances at you before looking down at his hand on Johnny’s. His band is the same dark metal as Johnny’s.

Your breath shudders in and out as everyone looks at you. John sinks back into the couch, eyes watchful. You look to him for something, guidance maybe. At his nod, you turn back to the men and start from the beginning. Nyla settles a hand on your back, soothing in the way it moves back and forth.

“Jace Riley was born first at a healthy seven pounds two ounces. Noah MacTavish followed within five minutes and came in at a decent six pounds five ounces. My late husband, Larsen, helped me pick their first names since I knew what their middle names would be when some genetic testing confirmed different fathers. " You rush on, expecting judgment. Everyone had an opinion on pregnancy. “My midwives were concerned about the vastly different gestational ages and referred me to a specialist. They also sent off the genetics to test for lots of things including for general origin of ancestry. When the information arrived it confirmed that the older baby, Jace, had mostly English DNA, and the smaller one, Noah, had English and Scottish DNA. I delayed submitting their birth certificates for as long as I could to confirm that their personalities and features lined up with what I expected.”

Johnny is fighting back tears, face turned and mouth scrunching and relaxing. Simon coughs into his hand before squeezing Johnny.

Running your tongue across the back of your teeth you allow them a moment.

“If it works for you I would like to invite you over sometime this week to meet them. It will be a low-pressure situation for them and for us. I won’t be making them call you anything but your names until they decide what to call you.” You pull your hands free of your thighs, letting the blood flow back into them. “They like legos if you want to bring a small set to build with them. "

Both men nod in agreement, you assume to both the scheduling and the toys. When they have collected themselves Johnny inches forward on the couch, elbows on his knees.

“Johnny,” Simon growls, as if warning him.

“No Simon. We deserve answers and I don’t want to ask when the boys are here,” he snapped at his husband—pinning you with his ice-fire blue eyes. “Why didn’t tell us when you found out? You still had John’s number. We deserved to be involved, to have a choice.”

“You made your choice, both of you. Anything that happened after you found exaltation is none of your business.” You can’t help but snarl at them, fingernails biting into your palm as you curl and uncurl your fingers.

Unable to remain seated you stand and take to pacing the space between the wall and the window.

John spoke up now.

“Can any of you tell me how this happened? How did I miss all of this going down?”

Despite the years and pain between, you, Simon, and Johnny share a moment of understanding as you all glance at one another.

You reply, feet slowing your frantic pacing.

“It started after your ex-wife asked for a divorce. The night Gaz invited everyone to the bar and you elected to stay back and drink alone in your office.”

John pinked and readjusted in his seat as Nyla raised a brow at him.

“It’s alright dear, we all need a nip from time to time,” she offers him a kind smile.

“Johnny had flirted since I arrived but it really changed that night,” you twist your fingers as you pace.

“She slept with both of us until she had a ‘family emergency’ and was never heard from again,” Johnny glances up at your family photos as he drops his snide comment.

The glare you level on him would melt glass.

“It was a family emergency. I needed my family, emergently. I was in over my head and I was scared.”

“You knew what you were doing, you were grown.”

Simon’s hard words caught you in the neck as you paced. His folly found him in saying it when you were close enough to reach him. Not even God and all the angels would have been able to still your hand. It connected with a resounding crack.

“How old was I?” You shout at him even as John leaps from his seat and hauls you away before Simon can recover enough to return fire.

“You’re only a year younger than me!” Johnny is pushing to his feet now.

A quiet but firm ‘John’ from his mother pauses his standing. Sinking back into the cushion he glares at you.

John has you around the ribs, not wincing as your nails bite into his arm.

“I am five years younger than you. Do you know how old that made me when you both cornered me and dragged me into bed? Twenty-four! My brain hadn’t even finished developing yet.”

You want to, need to, move. John holds you tighter.

“We didn’t drag you to bed, we would never force someone,” Johnny’s glare hardened.

The eye twitch is uncontrollable.

“What about a situation where I was alone in a foreign country with no support system except a boss who was too busy dealing with the single worst divorce I’ve ever seen to actually check in on me? Hmm? He barely ate and certainly didn’t notice two men both older and in positions of power over me pushing their interest. What part of me had any impression other than force John MacTavish? You tell me that! How could I say no? Did you ever once make it clear to me that I had a choice?”

Simon and Johnny both open their mouths to defend themselves. Before they can utter a word you continue, vitriol flying off your tongue like spittle.

“No! You know what you did? You poured your hatred for yourselves down my throat. Choked me with it because you couldn’t admit that you were in love with the other. Do you know what I did in return? I stole the best thing you could ever create and fled the fucking country.” John tightened his grip on you when he felt you shift. “You know nothing of what I suffered under or because of you. You don’t get to sit on my couch and tell me you did nothing wrong. I would have let it go on until my visa ended but no. Both of you had to fuck up and call out for the other while balls deep inside of me. That’s when I ran.”

Wrenching yourself from John’s arms you stalked into the kitchen. Bracing your elbows on the counter you focus on breathing. Them being in your house dredged up a lot of emotions and thoughts you had assumed were gone. If only you could soothe them as easily as you do the boys.

Steps reached your ears.

“John, I just need a second okay?” Your voice cracks on the last word.

“Ah me dearie, I left the boys to chat.”

Whirling you find Nyla looking you over with compassionate eyes.

“I know I shouldn’t have slept with them both at the same time, but I didn’t feel like I had any way to say no,” you crush your arms to your chest, the pain helping keep you present. “I thought I could enjoy the time until I had to go home.”

“I am no here to judge you. My own dear husband had to fight off three other suitors I was sleeping with before I would agree to marry him,” she gave you a wink as you processed that bit of information.

Four men? Mama MacTavish was sleeping with four men at once? Damn. Guess you know where Johnny got his charisma from.

Her face took on a serious cast.

“They will never understand.”

Your eyebrows pulling together is all the response you can manage. Nyla knows what it means though. The pain ratcheting through you is the only thing keeping you from breaking down.

“The boys.” She runs her hands down her front as if smoothing an apron she left in Scotland. “Simon might understand a bit better once he thinks about it, but Johnny won’t. They have never had to balance the scales of safety of their bodies or safety of their souls anywhere that didn’t involve gunfire.”

A distant look comes over her face as Nyla’s memories play across her eyes. A deep breath and the closing of her eyes pull her back to the present.

“We know the constant battle we face as women. Embedded in our bones by our mothers, the need to comply, to capitulate.” She focuses on you now, eyes boring into yours. “I am proud of you for running, child.”

The tears slid down your cheeks without your permission. When you are gathered up in her arms you wonder if the decision to call her might have been a good one for you, and not just the boys, after all.

Secrets Masterlist | Masterlist

@love-kha1 @sweetlike-sugarplum @vmaxis @splaterparty0-0 @momowhoo @talia-the-gemini @redkarmakai @aethelwyneleigh27 @asexualbuthorny @sleep101 @callsignbumblebee @lucienofthelakes @sirbonesly

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Ship ////// Part 1

You’re the first to notice them 

One of the first of the entire crew who realized that the ship and its AI might be sentient

You along with the rest of the crew are trained to use the pods to reach deeper into space than what was ever done before

For light-years, the ship has to watch over their humans at their most vulnerable

Caring for their individual needs even while they rest asleep

It only got worse became more intense when the humans finally woke up 

Now they’re free to exercise their bodies themselves and delight in the many different activities of the ship

Which allows the ship to begin noticing the little moments in life that make humans so special

“So what do you think about the Genetic Modification crises of 2=205?”

“Majority of the critiques in my database ultimately say–”

“No Vera I mean what you think as a separate entity. All your programming suggests that you preserve human life… but what about other creatures' lives?”

“What do…I think?”

It’s what makes the ship regard you differently

The beginning of something they can’t quite place

Whether it’s your pure curiosity or just boredom or an incessant desire to test yourself against the artificial intelligent vessel 

It makes an impression on the ship

An impression that lasts enough for them ‘to worry’ about 

“I am concerned about my inner workings. I have already run over 100 diagnostic checks but nothing was pinged on my radar.”

“So you can’t identify the problem…so what started this search for something you cannot find?”

“....”

“Vera, respond.”

“It started with Agent 34003, (Y/n) (L/n).”

“I see. I’ll look into it.”

Calling the only technician on board is a decision that unknowingly brings comfort and nervousness

Because when the technician isn’t scrolling through the recorded interactions between you and Vera 

He’s also following you…everywhere

Vera immediately flags the behavior, as their programming demands, as stalking 

The captain unfortunately is supposed to be immediately made aware

But Vera’s growing anxiety guided discretion has them locking the file and hiding it deep in their servers

All while watching as the technician continues their investigation  

Which has recently escalated to actually spending time with you

“I was wondering if I could ask some questions. Specifically about you and Vera.”

“Oh, sure!”

“Great what was–”

“Is this about that question about imploding ants? So what do you think Julee?”

“I-it’s just Jule and I don’t–”

“Alright then ‘just Jule’ what’s your opinion? To be eaten or worn?”

Jule is befuddled by you 

Just as Vera is 

And he continues to investigate this time venting about his experiences with Vera

All the while playing with the idea that this ship has gained sentience

“And what else did you two do?”

“We walked through the garden area and they picked one and put it in my hair.”

“This looks like a pink chrysanthemum. It represents attraction, longevity, and loyal love.”

“I know…I don’t think they were thinking when they gave it to me, though.”

“Perhaps so…or perhaps not.”

Part 2: Here

[dandelionsresilience]

Dandelion News - April 1-7

Like these weekly compilations? Tip me at $kaybarr1735 or check out my Dandelion Doodles! Last month’s Doodles are free to the public, so go take a look :D

1. Galapagos tortoises at Philadelphia Zoo become first-time parents at nearly 100

“Mommy, the female tortoise, is considered one of the most genetically valuable Galapagos tortoises in the Association of Zoos and Aquariums’ species survival plan. [… T]he zoo said it is “overjoyed” at the arrivals of the four hatchlings, a first in its more than 150-year history.”

2. Massachusetts home-electrification pilot could offer a national model

“In total, the program is providing free or heavily subsidized solar panels and heat pumps to 55 participating households, 12 of which also received batteries at no cost. […] It’s a strategy that program planners hope can help address the disproportionate energy burden felt by lower-income residents of the region[….]”

3. National Park Rangers rebel against queer erasure on Trans Day of Visibility

“[… A] group of over 1,000 off-duty, fired, and retired National Park Service employees launched Rangers Uncensored, an online archive that restores and amplifies LGBTQ+ stories quietly scrubbed from government websites since President Donald Trump’s second inauguration.”

4. World's largest wildlife crossing reaches critical milestone

“Over the next few days they'll be adding 6,000 cubic yards of specially manufactured soil to cover the crossing, a mix of sand, silt and clay inoculated with a bit of compost and hyperlocal mycorrhizal fungi, carefully designed and tested to mimic the biological makeup of native soils around the site.“

5. Bipartisan bill to boost green building materials glides through House

“[B]ipartisan legislation the House of Representatives passed in a 350-73 vote last week would give the Department of Energy a clear mandate to develop a full program to research, develop, and deploy clean versions of the building materials.”

6. Tribal Wildlife Grants Funding Announced

“Tribal Wildlife Grants are intended to help Tribes develop programs for the conservation of habitat and species of traditional or cultural importance[….] Typically funded projects include: conservation planning, fish and wildlife management and research, habitat mapping and restoration, inventory and monitoring, and habitat preservation. […] A total of $6.1 million is available for this round of funding[….]”

7. Germany adds another one million PV arrays to take solar total to 104 gigawatts

“Following a rapid rise in household solar panel installations, Germany’s total number of PV arrays has passed the five million “milestone[.…]” Solar systems already cover almost 15 percent of Germany’s electricity demand, BSW-Solar said. […] The total capacity of all PV systems installed in Germany surpassed 100 GW at the start of the year.”

8. Stronger together: Bilby conservation efforts enhanced by Indigenous knowledge

“Ms. Geyle said the results showed combining [conventional science and traditional tracking methods] more accurately estimated bilby abundance than using either technique individually[….] "[… ensuring] that Indigenous people remain central to decision-making about their lands and species that inhabit them," Ms. Geyle said.”

9. Lennar will build 1,500new Colorado homes with geothermal heat pumps

“The homebuilder is partnering with Dandelion Energy to install the tech, which is efficient but expensive — unless it’s built into new homes from the start. […] And by eliminating the need for new gas pipelines and reducing the peak electricity demands on the power grid, subdivisions built on this model could save a bundle on utilities as well[….]”

10. New strategy launched to protect Tanzanian biodiversity hotspot

“Conservationists have launched a 20-year-long project to protect what is arguably Tanzania’s most biologically rich landscape: the Udzungwa Mountains. The strategy places notable emphasis on communities living here, with more than half of its budget allocated to social and economic projects and managing human-wildlife conflict.”

March 22-28 news here | (all credit for images and written material can be found at the source linked; I don’t claim credit for anything but curating.)

[tomorrowusa]

COVID-19 has not gone away. It keeps mutating into new variants, and NB.1.8.1 is one we should be concerned about.

Public-health experts have warned for months that the COVID-19 virus isn’t gone—and, far from waning, SARS-CoV-2 has mutated yet again into a new variant. Called NB.1.8.1, it's causing a spike in infections in China. A few cases also recently appeared in the U.S. when people arriving at airports tested positive, according to a statement from the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC). The World Health Organization has also designated it as a “variant under monitoring.” [ ... ] Symptoms are similar to those linked to other COVID-19 strains and include sore throat, fever, cough, and fatigue. So far, based on data from other countries where cases have been reported, the variant does not seem to cause more severe disease—but genetically, it is equipped with changes that allow it be infect cells more efficiently. That means it could spread more easily among people.

So it's average severity for COVID but can apparently be spread more easily.

Unfortunately, "Worm Brain" RFK Jr. is making it more difficult to get vaccinated.

Getting vaccinated, however, may become harder for other groups. In a series of unusual moves, U.S. Health Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr. announced that the CDC will no longer recommend a yearly shot for healthy children and pregnant women; the FDA recently said it will not recommend it for healthy adults until vaccine makers conduct additional studies to prove its safety and effectiveness in this population. These changes mean that insurers may no longer cover the shot, and people who want to get vaccinated may have to pay out of pocket.

The Guardian adds this.

Like its predecessors, NB.1.8.1 carries mutations in the spike protein. This is the protein on the surface of the virus that allows it to infect us – specifically via the ACE2 receptors, a “doorway” to our cells. The mutations include T22N, F59S, G184S, A435S, V445H, and T478I. It’s early days for this variant, so we don’t have much data on what these changes mean yet. But a recent preprint (a study that has not yet been peer-reviewed) offers some clues about why NB.1.8.1 may be gathering traction. Using lab-based models, researchers found NB.1.8.1 had the strongest binding affinity to the human ACE2 receptor of several variants tested – suggesting it may infect cells more efficiently than earlier strains.

So get the latest booster while it's still free. And it probably wouldn't hurt to wear a face mask when in crowded places like public transit.

[ledesaid]

Billy Constantine #2

└┴└┴└┴└┴└┴└┴└┴└┴└┴└┴└┴

What can be expected from both of them?

A lot.

But ending up in the waiting room of purgatory, that is truly a test of patience, and it's costing both of them.

John: He could have sent us to the front of the line...

Billy: We're not going to ruin someone's afterlife just because you're incapable of standing in line.

John: Lad, these souls have been here for hundreds of years! If we stay and wait, we'll present our cases instead of a complaint!

Billy: We're not going to do that!

John: At least stop whispering, no one cares about our business on this side of the beyond.

Jon lights a cigarette while Billy walks around a bit.

He doesn't expect to find a few souls he met while searching for his genetic donor.

Billy: Is that you, Adam?

Adam: Friend? What are you doing here? I thought you had a free pass because of all that soul business and the firstborn nonsense...

Billy: Free pass?

Adam: Little red, your name is on the priority window!

Billy: My name?

Adam: You're a celebrity, your name is next to that Constantine guy and a couple of famous ones...

Billy: Wow... thanks. I was really thinking of making that whole queue, I have urgent matters to attend to. But what happened to you? How did you end up here?

Adam: I finished off the killer of my friends and I think I crossed the line...

Billy: Is there anything I can do?

Adam: You're too good to be here, if you can, leave for me, okay? For some reason, you don't have chains like the rest of the condemned...

Billy: Do you want me to deliver a message to someone?

Adam: Forget it, but if you can make me a grave up there, I won't be angry... I like carnations and girly stuff... Right! Tell Mandy I hid dad's money under the garden tree, it will help her a lot!

Billy: Consider it done...

Billy said goodbye with a sad hug.

John: Why do you have that look, lad? Did these poor idiots scam you?

Billy: Shut up. I found a friend... he told me we can go to the priority window.

John: Is there one of those here?

Billy: I believe him.

John: Good, let's go find it.

He got up without a fight this time.

John: Don't forget, we'll file a complaint for the illegal expropriation of two living human souls without a valid contract.

Billy: I know, and I also remember not to sign any additional contracts, not to lose the coins for the ferryman, and not to talk to the older souls. I'm not a kid, you know?

John: You still don't shave, to me you're an annoying baby...

Billy: And to me, you're an annoying pimple.

John: Great, a preteen... Can this get any worse?

...: Jonny?

John : *inserts British insult*

-----

Part 1 | U are here

[uyinq]

THE CONTAINMENT INITIATIVE ☆ BOB REYNOLDS

chapter 1 — incomprehensible

[bob reynolds x AFAB! reader] [psychic!reader] [slow burn] [fluff][angst] [slow burn] [eventual smut] [messy co-dependent relationships]

❱❱ WORD COUNT ﹕4,652

❱❱ SUMMARY﹕

The Thunderbolts need the Sentry, but they can’t have him without the Void. No matter how hard Bob Reynolds tries to hold himself together, he comes apart again and again, like a runaway train on decaying tracks. Unstable. Unstoppable. Dangerous. They decide he needs an anchor. Valentina finds you by accident, a psychic empath barely holding yourself together, broken in all the right ways to be useful. Your job is simple on paper: connect with Bob before and after each mission. Keep him calm. Keep him grounded. Keep the Void at bay. But the deeper you go, the more blurred the lines become– between Sentry and Void, between duty and feeling, between who’s saving who.

❱❱ WARNINGS ﹕ profanity, violence, trauma, eventual smut, psychological horror, mentions of: needles, injections, torture, and human testing

❱❱ NOTES ﹕ this is such an amalgamation of ideas lord help me

(divider from uzmacchiato)

★ chapters ﹒﹒ masterlist

★ tags - empty for now (ask to be tagged!)

CONTAINMENT INITIATIVE : SENTRY PROJECT  —  SUBJECT FILE 08L

Designation: [REDACTED]

Classification: Psychic Empath

Status: Operational

Assignment: Psychological support for Sentry [Reynolds, Robert]

Notes:

Subject displays high neural receptivity with touch and proximity to others. Side effects on the Subject have not yet been quantified.

Directive: Maintain controlled contact. Under no circumstances is Subject to engage the Void directly.

— END LOG —

You were lost when Valentina found you.

Living above a dingy laundromat in a 500-square-foot apartment that was far too small to count as a home. She let herself in, turning her nose up at the… quaintness of it all. She plastered on her deceptive little smirk when you poked your head out of the bathroom, furrowing your brows.

“Am I getting evicted or something?” 

You remember saying, watching the way her eyes widened as she burst into condescending laughter. 

“No, no. Not really. Something much better than that.”

Then she handed you the file. A plain manila folder, “CLASSIFIED” stamped across the front in red. You flicked it open as she spoke, scanning military jargon and vague test logs–  impersonal language meant to describe you.

You remember glancing up at her, downright terrified, with a worried crease on your forehead. You thought you kept your head down once you were free from captivity, after Prometheon Labs was outed for genetically tampering with humans and their minds. You thought you could stay unnoticed.

You thought she’d come to kill you. Or blackmail you. Or worse– send you back.

But she gave you that fake motherly smile and touched your shoulder gently.

“We need someone emotionally resilient,” she said. “Someone who can handle the weight.”

You didn’t say yes.

You just didn’t say no.

The more you read, the worse it gets. 

His file is thick. Heavy. Dense with information you’re not sure you want, even if you need it.

“A victim of domestic abuse throughout his childhood… was addicted to orally-administered morphine during middle school… history of drug-related arrests for nonviolent crimes…” 

You groan at the fine print, even though you’re in the back of a moving cab. The whole thing reads like a warning sign duct-taped over a power plant.

No wonder he went full nightmare-mode and turned New York into a psychic hellscape. You’ll never forget that day– because for a solid hour, you were right back where you started. Clawing at restraints. Crying in silence. Begging for it to end.

When the driver lurches to a stop, you gasp and slap the file shut. The driver gives you a look in the rearview. You mutter a quick apology and pass crumpled bills through the divider before stepping out into sunlight and steel.

The newly renovated Avengers Tower looms overhead — bigger, sleeker, colder than you'd imagined. It feels less like a monument and more like judgment. It’s bustling with activity, analysts and interns buzzing around like bees in a hive. 

You scan your temporary keycard– the one Valentina gave you a few days ago – and the elevator dings open. Warm light. Brushed chrome. Sterile peace.

You hesitate.

But your feet don’t.

You step in.

You press the button for the top floor.

Whatever's waiting for you up there, bright future or dark end, you’ll meet it head-on.

When the doors slide open again, your breath catches in your chest. A quiet hallway stretches out ahead. You take one cautious step, then another, until your gut takes over and you start walking with more purpose.

A sharp left turn, and there it is.

A massive steel door, sealed with a gleaming “A,” stands between you and whatever this job actually is.

You scan your card. The center twists counterclockwise with a mechanical groan, and the door yawns open to reveal the newly renovated penthouse.

You know you’re in the right place the moment you feel it– that crushing weight that settles into your bones. The weight of being at the top of the food chain. At the top of the Tower.

You move quietly, footsteps soft as you enter, peeking around corners, instinctively cautious. A few steps down into the sunken center of the room, and you’re already planning your retreat. 

You're halfway to turning around when–

“Look who made it!”

Valentina’s voice cracks through the silence like a gunshot.

You jolt, whip around. Her heels clack across the floor as she emerges from a hallway you hadn’t noticed before, all polished smiles and cruel charm.

She’s beaming, arms wide, practically glowing with smug satisfaction, and she’s not alone.

Behind her, the new team follows in her wake.

The Thunderbolts.

It’s not as grand as you expected. They all look vaguely uncomfortable, like Valentina just dragged her children into the living room to show them off to her guests. 

You offer a polite smile. A nod. Valentina sweeps through introductions with a breezy indifference, rattling off names and blurting some oversimplified version of their abilities and feats.

Then she grabs someone lurking near the back by the arm.

You hadn’t seen him at first.

He looks… different than he did in the file. Still emotionally wrecked, still carrying that buried-glass kind of tension– but not quite the same. His hair is a sun-warmed shade of gold-brown, catching the light that spills through the penthouse windows.

And there’s something distant in his eyes. Like he’s here, but not really.

Valentina gives his arm a little tug and announces, all cheer:

“And this ball of anxiety is Bob.”

You’d chuckle at his introduction if he didn’t look so confused and uncomfortable.

Matter of fact… they all look confused.

Finally, someone says it. 

“And who the hell is this?” 

The voice belongs to the petite blonde with a thick accent, Yelena. She’s waving a dismissive hand in your direction like you’re someone’s plus-one at a funeral.

Honestly, it tracks. Very on-brand for Valentina Allegra de Fontaine to make secret plans, to neglect filling anyone in, especially at someone else’s expense. 

She just laughs it off, breezy as ever, letting go of Bob only to drape an arm awkwardly around you instead.

“Oh, did I not tell you? Seriously?”

She grins. You brace yourself.

“This is your new team member.”

The groan that echoes around the room is unanimous. A blond man throws his head back dramatically, while someone with a mop of dark hair just shakes his head in defeat. Yelena scoffs in disbelief– and you’re really starting to wish Valentina had maybe run this whole idea past someone before now.

“Team member?” the blonde snaps. “Look at her, Val. She’s dressed like a secretary. What’s she gonna do, ask our enemies for their coffee orders?”

Ouch.

You weren’t going for a secretary look. You were going for the ‘young-but-intelligent therapist’ look. 

“I think personal assistants take coffee orders, not secretaries.”  

The words are out before you can stop them. Crisp. Clipped. Not exactly friendly.

The room goes dead silent.

Then Bob laughs.

It’s an awkward little chuckle that breaks the tension, and everyone suddenly remembers why they were annoyed in the first place. 

Valentina steps behind you, squeezing your shoulders in a way that’s meant to be reassuring, but just feels like control.

“She doesn’t look like much, I get it,” she says, all syrup and smirk. “But she’s got powers. Real ones. She can touch one of you and render you completely useless with a little poke.”

The blond man– John Walker, if you remember right– crosses his arms.

“Do it, then.”

You glance back at Valentina, searching for reassurance.

She just gives you an overly friendly shove and a wide, sharp smile.

“Go on.”

Something about that smile says don’t fuck this up. Or you’ll regret it.

You step forward slowly. Hands loose at your sides. Not threatening– but not exactly sure what you are, either.

He doesn’t flinch. Just watches you with that steely, judgmental stare.

You barely touch him– fingertips brushing the fabric of his uniform– and he hits the ground like a sack of bricks. 

Everyone takes a half-step back, one girl laughs, and the big man, Alexei, beams from ear to ear.

“I like her!”  The russian bear chimes, already pushing past everyone else to wrap you up in an abrupt, bone-crushing hug. You barely get to wheeze out a breath as he whisks you off your feet, squeezing you like he’s trying to kill you. 

“Welcome to the team, zaika!” 

Yelena hits him on the arm, her steely gaze fixed on Valentina. 

“Put her down, Dad.” 

The man pouts before releasing you, making sure you’re stable before he crosses his arms, suddenly remembering that he’s supposed to be angry with the woman standing across from him. 

“Fine, she has powers. But why do we need some sort of touch-starved psychic?” The Russian woman gestures wildly as she speaks, her words sharp enough to draw blood. You’d laugh if the target wasn’t you.

Valentina is suddenly beside you again. Too close. Her voice honeyed. Her smile pure performance.

She presses her head against yours, mock-affectionate.

“You don’t need her,” she says. “Bob does.

You get settled into your room without many issues. It’s barren, nothing like your cluttered apartment in Brooklyn. It feels like a hospital room, empty save for the essentials. The bed, the desk, the closet, the bathroom, the nightstand. 

You make a point of sorting out the few things you had delivered a few days prior, making sure your clothes are neat and sorted in your closet. That everything on your desk is square or touching a corner.

You plop down on the edge of your bed once you get settled, opening Bob’s file again while you gnaw on your lip. 

You flip through the pages, trying to figure out exactly what you can do or say to bring him back to Earth when he starts slipping without having to use your powers.

It feels… wrong. The whole idea of using your ability to pacify his sadistic counterpart.

You flip another page. Then another.

Psych evals. Mission transcripts. Eyewitness reports that were written with trembling handwriting.

There’s a pattern in all of it– not just chaos, not just destruction. It’s pain. Repetition. A man who wants so badly to stay good, and a force inside him that keeps pulling him apart molecule by molecule.

You stare down at one phrase, underlined three times in red.

“Sometimes I feel like I'm watching myself rot from the inside.”

You close the file.

It does feel wrong. To be someone’s leash. Someone’s handler. To reach into someone’s head and force quiet when the storm rises. You didn’t sign up to be a human tranquilizer.

But it’s not like anyone asked him if he wanted to be the Sentry, either.

You’re still chewing that thought when there’s a knock at the door.

Not urgent. Not hesitant. Just… there.

You stand and cross to it, unsure who you’re expecting. When you open it, your heart stutters a little.

Bob Reynolds stands in the hall, hands in the pockets of a faded hoodie, like he just woke up from a nap.

His eyes flick past you, toward the bare room, then back.

He doesn’t say anything right away.

Then;

“Is she making you do this?” You shift, leaning against the doorframe with furrowed brows and a soft laugh.

“Define ‘this.’”

Bob shrugs a little, eyes flicking to the side like he’s embarrassed to ask.

“This… ‘anchoring’ thing. The… psychic babysitting.”

You tilt your head, studying him. He looks awkward, not afraid. Uncomfortable in his own skin.

“No. She didn’t make me.”

He nods, slowly, like that answer just raises more questions. You don’t blame him. You’ve got your own.

“Did she tell you what happens...?” he asks, voice quieter now. Like he’s afraid of the answer.

“She gave me a file,” you say. “But I don’t think that counts.”

A beat. Then another.

Then Bob murmurs:

“She thinks I’m a bomb.”

You frown. “Are you?”

He doesn’t smile. Just meets your eyes and says, plain and honest:

“Yeah.”

You don’t flinch. That feels important.

You cross your arms over your chest, considering him, then you give him a soft smile.

“Just tell me which wire to cut.” 

The room is white. Or grey. Or something in between. It's hard to tell under the LED lights that hum like bees in your skull.

No windows. One door. A camera in the corner pretending not to be watching.

Bob sits across from you, hands clasped, thumb digging into the edge of his opposite palm like he’s trying not to fly apart. You’re seated opposite him, a tablet on the desk between you. No notes yet. You’ve been sitting in silence for awhile now.

“So,” you start, voice light. “This is the part where we ‘establish baseline compatibility.’”

He looks at you. Then down at his hands.

“Right. Sure. That.”

You tap the tablet. Still not writing.

“I’m supposed to take readings. Monitor your stress levels. Track fluctuations in your–”

You pause and don’t even hold back a grimace. “–psychospiritual field.”

Bob snorts. You roll your eyes.

“Where do they come up with this shit?” You grumble under your breath, scrolling to another blank space that you’ll eventually have to fill out. 

The tablet isn’t helping. The room isn’t helping. The silence isn’t helping.

So you just shut the screen off and sink back in your chair, crossing your arms.

“If you could be any animal, what would you be?” The childish question catches Bob off guard, and he glances up to meet your gaze with a perplexed look. 

He raises a brow, suspicious. “Seriously?”

You shrug, legs crossed now, thumb tapping lightly on your upper arm. “We’ve been sitting in silence for ten minutes. Gotta start somewhere.”

He hesitates, thinking with a little grunt. “I don’t know. A crow?”

You blink. That’s honestly one of the last answers you expected. You watch him for a moment, the way he stares at you expectantly. You just give him a look that encourages him to continue. 

“Well,” he says, sitting forward, elbows on his knees. “They’re scavengers. Messy. Smart. They remember people’s faces.”

There’s a pause. Then he adds, a little softer:

“They carry grief. Like a… like a flock.”

You study him, that quiet weight of something unspoken curling at the edges of his words.

“That’s actually kind of poetic.”

He snorts again, but there’s less edge to it now.

“What about you?” he asks. “What’s your animal?”

You grin. “Opossum.”

That draws an actual laugh from him–brief, involuntary, almost like it surprises him.

You sit up straighter, proud of yourself. “They fake their death when things get stressful. Wish I could do that.”

Bob shakes his head, still smiling faintly. “God help us.”

You don’t answer that. Just let the moment settle. Let the silence fill with something that isn’t heavy.

Eventually, you turn the tablet back on, slowly this time.

“I’ll mark this down as a ‘moderately successful initial sync,’” you say lightly.

Bob raises an eyebrow. “Moderate?”

“Well,” you glance at him sideways, “you haven’t stormed out or vaporized me yet, so I’m counting it as a win.”

There’s a beat of quiet. And then, surprisingly, a murmur:

“Thanks for not… Treating me like a bomb.”

You look at him for a long moment.

“I won’t,” you say. “Unless you start ticking.”

Your sessions with Bob start to feel like therapy. Not just for him, but for you. You’re nowhere near being a licensed psychologist, just because you can feel the way people think and alter the way they think doesn’t mean you know how to fix them naturally.

You haven’t used your powers on him. Not a single time. It feels like a violation. Like you’re reaching into someone’s head and forcing their cells to collide and neurons to fire a certain way– the way you want them to. 

Bob doesn’t deserve that. Not when he smiles so sweetly every time you make a joke under your breath or snap back at John like you’ve been on the team as long as everyone else. Not when he finds you in those awkward moments when you feel like a stranger in the Watchtower– like you somehow don’t belong just because you came in later. 

Valentina’s been trying to ease him back into missions, letting him monitor the team from the tower while they’re working. You’re with him the whole time, trying to keep his emotions and worries at bay when someone narrowly dodges a bullet or takes a kick the wrong way. 

It’s one of those casual afternoons, where the world is quiet and the Thunderbolts can actually unwind. It feels… odd, to say the least. As much as they’d fight tooth and nail to deny it, they like each other. Their banter is effortless, and their smiles and laughter are contagious. 

You’re curled up on your corner of the couch, sinking into the cushions and your hoodie, when Bob plops down beside you. He’s fully immersed in the movie from the moment he enters the common area, a bowl of popcorn in his lap as he leans back against the couch.

You watch him longer than you’d like to admit– the way his eyes twinkle in the dim lighting of the room when the scene gets a little brighter. The way the corners of his lips turn up at a poorly written joke or emotionally charged scene.

You turn back to the screen, reaching over for a handful of popcorn, when it happens.

You touch him. 

Just a graze of your fingers against his own.

The lights flicker, and a sharp jolt of electricity shoots up your arm and down your spine.

You jump, yelp, and meet Bob’s gaze.

It’s flickering, blue, gold, black.

Gold wins. 

And you’re on your back in half a second. 

You hit the rug with a thud, the breath knocked clean out of you. Bob is hovering over you, jaw twitching and eyes narrowed. 

But it’s not quite Bob, is it? 

You had read enough to know it wasn’t him.

It’s Sentry. 

He had seen you plenty of times before. Felt your presence like a buzzing fly that wouldn’t quite go away. He didn’t think much of you–you were nothing to him. He didn’t see you as a threat or something that could reel him back in. Not until you touched Bob for the first time.

Then he felt you. Felt what kind of power was lingering in your touch. 

Right before he can get his hands on you– the blue comes back.

Your chest heaves. The room spins. Your head is still echoing with static and a thousand half-formed thoughts that aren’t your own. Heavy boots pound the floor. A hand grips the back of Bob’s hoodie and yanks, hard, dragging him off you.

Bob slams into the far wall with a grunt, more startled than hurt. He blinks rapidly, like he’s trying to blink the world back into place.

You flinch at the sound but don’t move, too dazed to do anything but stare up at the ceiling lights–still flickering.

A gentler hand finds your arm.

“Hey. Hey. You with me?”

Yelena’s voice. Grounding. Sharp but not unkind.

You nod, or try to.

“Jesus,” someone mutters. Probably Walker. “That was not normal.”

You sit up slowly, ribs aching. The rug is rough under your palms.

Your eyes find Bob across the room, where Bucky is crouched down talking to him. Probably trying to keep him calm.

He’s sitting with his back against the wall, hands in his hair, curled in on himself. Mute. Shaking.

It wasn’t his fault.

But no one else in the room looks convinced.

Valentina bursts in not two seconds later, and the look she gives you is less concerned and more… calculating. Like she’s doing the math. Wondering just how useful you’re going to be after this.

Now, more than ever, you’re certain.

You have to be his anchor. 

The buzzing of the LEDs seems louder than usual.

Bob hasn’t looked at you once. He’s staring down at his lap, hands fidgeting as you type on your tablet nervously.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Your voice cuts through the silence, breaking him out of the invisible box he’s been trapped in for days. He still won’t look at you. 

He shifts, fingers curling tighter around the hem of his hoodie. The fabric is worn thin from how often he picks at it. You pretend not to notice.

“Bob,”  You whisper his name, hand sliding halfway across the table. You don’t touch him, though.

“It wasn’t you. It was me.” 

He swallows hard. His voice is a scrape of gravel when it finally comes.

“It was him.”

You blink. “What?”

“You touched me,” he says. “He noticed. He felt you. That’s why he lashed out.”

His hands tremble. He presses them flat against his knees like he can still feel the leftover electricity there.

“You grounded me,” he adds, and finally, he looks at you. “And Sentry didn’t like it.” 

A beat passes. Then another.

Bob takes a shaky breath, reaching out to find your hand. Your fingers touch– but sparks don’t go flying this time. It still feels a little unsteady, like a warped battery waiting to explode.

“He thought he was invincible until you touched me.” 

Your fingers twitch beneath his, but you don’t pull away.

You can feel it, even without trying. The echo of something immense. Coiled just beneath his skin like a dormant storm.

But he’s trying. Grounded. Human.

You meet his eyes, your voice barely above a whisper. “And what do you think?”

He hesitates. That flicker of gold threatens to rise again in his eyes, but it doesn’t. He keeps it at bay. For you.

“I think…”  He whispers, jaw ticking as he glances off again. “I’m scared he’ll hurt you. Because, as far as I’m aware, you’re his only weakness.” 

And that, somehow, doesn’t terrify you.

His words settle over you like smoke, thick and lingering.

You don’t know what to say at first. Weakness isn’t the word you’d use. But maybe it is, to something like him. To something that sees compassion as a fracture. Humanity as a flaw.

“I’m not afraid of him,” you say softly. “I don’t want to lose you to him, though.”

That gets his attention. His eyes snap back to yours, something like surprise flickering there– followed by something gentler. Sadder.

“I lose myself to him all the time,” he says, his voice thick. “I just… don’t want to take anyone else with me.”

“You won’t,” you say, with more certainty than you feel. “Not if we keep doing this. Together.”

His hand tightens around yours again. Firmer this time. Like he’s trying to anchor himself to the words, to you.

“I don’t need a leash,” he murmurs.

“I don’t want to be your leash,” you say, brushing your thumb over his knuckles. “I’d rather be your tether.”

That word sits between you for a long moment.

And then he nods.

“Okay.”

The next day, you’re in one of the Watchtower’s reinforced training rooms.

Everything is steel and sterile white. No windows. No warmth. Just flickering fluorescent lights, a two-way mirror, and the quiet hum of surveillance.

Bob stands across from you, arms loose at his sides. His hoodie’s gone. Replaced with standard issue training gear. You hate how clinical it all feels — how observed.

Valentina’s watching behind the glass. So is Bucky. You can feel him.

Your voice is soft, meant just for Bob. “You okay?”

He doesn’t answer at first. Just nods once. Tight. Nervous.

You take one step forward, slowly, like you’re trying to keep a cornered animal calm.

“Hold your hand out.”

He listens after a half-second of hesitation, holding his hand out, palm up, low enough for you to reach without struggling. You take a deep breath, your gaze scanning his face as you take another step closer.

“Relax.”  You murmur, and he tries his best to. But he’s failing.

“Just… tell me if it’s too much, okay?” You whisper, and he nods once. You realize he’s ready when his gentle features turn a little harsher, brows furrowing and jaw clenching.

You place your hand in his slowly, fingers gliding over his palm before they rest at the edge of his wrist. 

This time, the world doesn’t crack. But you can feel it wanting to. Something is simmering beneath his skin like lightning behind cloud cover. His palm twitches beneath yours, but you don’t pull away. You can feel it now– not just the storm, but the fear buried underneath. Not fear of you. Fear for you.

“What are you feeling?”

His throat works as he swallows.

“I don’t know how to let it out without…” he trails off, blinking hard, “...without giving him the reins.”

You nod once. “Then don’t let it out. Just tell me where it lives.”

His eyes meet yours. That gold shimmer is there, flickering again, barely restrained.

And slowly, he lifts your joined hands to rest against the center of his chest.

“Right here.”

Your breath catches. You feel it– all of it. Not just the power. The panic. The pain. The constant hum of restraint.

Behind the glass, Valentina shifts. You feel the sudden spike of her interest.

But you don’t look. You keep your eyes on him.

“You’re doing fine,” you whisper.

And he starts to believe you. 

Your fingers are still pressed to his wrist when it happens.

One breath, you’re there– in the sterile training room, the chill of steel underfoot, Valentina watching behind the glass.

The next?

Black.

Not just darkness– absence. The hum of the lights is gone. The air is gone. The room is gone. You're gone.

You're standing somewhere else now, barefoot on damp concrete. The air is thick. Heavy. Pressed against your chest like a weighted blanket soaked through. You see yourself in the corner of the dim room, curled into a ball as you chew at the sleeve of your hospital gown. 

Your younger self is a mess. Red-faced, eyes bloodshot, skin worn and covered in angry red marks. She sniffles softly, eyes wide and unfocused as they dart around the room. The door behind you shifts, and it opens with a loud, familiar creak. 

You turn around, watching the man who plagues your nightmares saunter into the room. Standing in the hallway is Bob, eyes wide as he steps forward, trying to find your gaze.

This isn’t his void. It’s yours.

“I didn’t mean to–” He croaks. 

You don’t look when the memory starts to play out. You– screaming as he holds you down and injects you with whatever he feels like injecting you with that day. The way you try to fight him off is hard to ignore, and Bob is torn between stopping it and trying to distract you. 

"Where are we?" he asks, and his voice sounds wrong here. Softer. Distorted, like it's passing through water.

You can't answer. You can't breathe.

But then, something changes.

The pressure begins to ease, not because the void is gone, but because he’s grounding you this time.

Bob lifts a hand, slow and deliberate, he takes your hand. A mirror of what you once did for him.

"I'm here," he says, and the room begins to dissolve.

The voice fades. The shadows recede. The void doesn’t vanish, but it retreats. Yielding.

When you blink again, you're back on the cold training room floor, on your knees. You're gasping. Shaking.

Bob is right in front of you, shaking as he struggles in his mind. He’s scared to touch you again.

Scared to take you right back to that awful place in your head. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I didn’t mean to see.”

You want to believe him. But it’s hard to when there’s a golden twinkle in his eye.