#none of my followers are even remotely active

[marysfics]

Through the Dust

Alexia Putellas x DownhillRacer!Reader

It wasn't supposed to happen. The sport, the risks, the focus - none of it was meant for distractions.

But somewhere between the thrill of the race and the quiet moments shared on the mountainside, you couldn't help but wonder..

Did you really fall for her?

This is a multichapter fic, and trust me, you’re in for one wild ride. No warnings so far.

Word count: 973

Chapter 1: ''A Glance Through the Dust''

The air was thick with the scent of pine and damp earth, the morning mist rolling down the mountainsides, lingering over the tracks. The trails were slick from last night’s rain, and the rocks glistened with a wet sheen. You adjusted your helmet, fingers quick and practiced, securing each strap as you readied yourself at the starting line. Your breath fogged up as you exhaled, and you could already feel the familiar burn of adrenaline beginning to spread through your veins.

Today’s training session was critical—a final tune-up before the upcoming World Cup race. The last one of the season, and if everything went right, it could be the one that would define your career. Around you, other riders were focused on their routines, checking tires, adjusting brakes, psyching themselves up with little rituals and half-spoken mantras.

Somewhere in the crowd, you noticed a group of women in navy blue tracksuits watching from the sidelines. A few had phones out, recording snippets of the racers as they tore down the course. It was unusual to see spectators this close to the training grounds, but you quickly shrugged it off, too focused on your run to pay much attention.

What you didn’t know was that they were FC Barcelona Femení, the world-renowned women’s football team, here for some preseason team-building. It wasn’t every day that they found themselves in a remote mountain resort, surrounded by some of the best downhill racers in the world. And among them, Alexia Putellas stood with her arms crossed, watching the racers with a skeptical look in her eyes.

“What’s the appeal?” she murmured to her teammate, Mapi León, who had already developed a keen interest in the sport.

“Come on, Ale,” Mapi nudged her. “It’s not that different from what we do. Well, aside from the whole gravity and wheels thing. But the risk, the intensity—it’s the same thrill, no?”

Alexia shook her head, her brows furrowed. “I get the thrill of sport. I don’t get the thrill of actively throwing yourself down a mountain.”

Mapi laughed, her eyes following the riders who zoomed by, leaving trails of dust and sprays of mud in their wake. “Maybe it’s just not for you, then.”

Alexia smirked, rolling her eyes. “Trust me, it’s not. I’m happy enough with grass and a ball at my feet, thank you.”

But Mapi knew Alexia well enough to catch the slight glint of intrigue in her eye, even if she’d never admit it. The rider in the distance, the one with the sleek bike and determined eyes, had already caught her attention—even if she didn’t quite realize it yet.

As you mounted your bike, the nerves finally settled. It was just you and the mountain now. You’d mapped out every corner, memorized every rock, every patch of gravel. You knew this course like the back of your hand, and even though you were aware of the crowd at the sidelines, their presence was just a faint blur at the edge of your vision.

The horn sounded, and you pushed off, speeding down the first stretch, your bike absorbing the shocks from the rough trail. Every twist and turn of the course felt like second nature, the rush of speed exhilarating, the wind slicing past your face. You could barely hear the cheers, but you felt their pulse in the air around you.

As you approached a tight turn leading into a jump, you caught a glimpse of a familiar face—the tall, blonde woman from earlier, her gaze following your every move. You weren’t sure why you noticed her specifically, but something about the way she watched you felt different from the rest of the crowd.

The jump was fast approaching, and with a quick, practiced movement, you leaned back, bracing as your tires lifted off the ground, sailing smoothly over the jump. You landed cleanly on the other side but hadn’t accounted for a slick patch of mud waiting just past it. The tires lost their grip, and suddenly, everything went sideways.

Your shoulder slammed into the ground, pain radiating through you as you skidded to a stop. You felt the dirt and gravel scrape against your skin, the impact sharp and unforgiving.

As you tried to gather yourself, the first thing you saw through the haze of dust was her. Alexia was right at the front of the crowd, her expression shifting from shock to worry. It was a strange comfort, somehow, to see her there, a face both familiar and unfamiliar all at once.

You pushed yourself up slowly, wincing, but your gaze stayed locked with hers. For a moment, it felt like the two of you were in your own world, a bubble outside of the noise of the crowd and the ache of the fall.

She took a hesitant step forward, as if she was debating whether to come over. But she didn’t. Instead, she lingered there, staring at you with an unreadable expression, her brow slightly furrowed, her mouth parted as if she wanted to say something.

You gave her a small nod—an attempt to reassure her, even though you didn’t owe her anything. She returned it with a tight smile, and her shoulders relaxed a little, though her eyes remained fixed on you, curiosity and caution mingling.

“Are you alright?” a nearby medic asked, breaking your connection with Alexia as they checked you over. You assured them you were fine, and though your shoulder throbbed, the pain was something you could ignore.

When you glanced back, Alexia was still there, her gaze intense, watching you with an expression that was almost… impressed? You weren’t sure. But as you picked yourself up and prepared for the next run, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this wouldn’t be the last time your paths would cross.

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

End of Chapter 1.

More Chapters: click here

[eqt-95]

i am sorry it is monday i am going to be mean 🖤 supercorp

Thanks for the ask! I won't even make a big deal about you and @sssammich poking me for the same heart-wrenching prompt, but I will be using 'artistic licensing' and the skill of 'splitting hairs' to get this one across the line.

for context, this is part of an AU i've written random bits for, so you're about to be thrown right into it.

- - - - -

“Hey Kara?” Lena asked from the bar cart.

“Yes?”

“What would it be?” she continued, walking to the couch. “If you were human. What's the thing you'd want to experience?”

“Food.”

The answer comes so automatically that it almost draws Lena into a laugh. Instead she leans back into her couch, swirls the lowball of peaty scotch, and closes her eyes, imagining for the hundredth time a face that didn’t exist.

“Anything specific?”

A moment passed. The voice hummed in thought; another diversion from Lena’s code.

“Does a buffet count?”

“Some might call that cheating,” Lena smiled. “Lex would call it a loophole.”

“What do you call it?”

Lena opened her eyes; glanced at the ceiling as though Kara’s voice was coming from the stars. Instead it was just the usual speaker floating overhead.

“I think it fails to grapple with the spirit of the question.”

The room, white and bright and sterile, felt like a still-life painting with the white noise that followed. Lena wondered if she’d scared the AI off when-

“Potstickers.”

“Potstickers?” Lena parroted, unable to contain a laugh. She set her glass down to analyze the AI’s activity on her tablet.

It made some sense: every cuisine had its own form of food-wrapped dish from dumplings to pierogies to empanadas to arancini, and it was only natural for the AI to find a common link and answer based on that, but when Lena scanned the code for evidence the AI was responding to that thread, none existed. 

“What calculation brought you to that?” she asked. She continued to scowl at the cloud of connections that weren’t remotely linked.

“Because they’re pillowy morsels of goodness with a contrasting soft texture and a crunchy bottom side. The plume of steam when bitten into is just perfection,” Kara said, fading into what Lena heard as a sigh. It only made her brow furrow deeper.

She’d ask Sam tomorrow. In the mean time:

“Can we order some?”

“Pardon?”

“Potstickers.”

“I… it’s late. Maybe another time.”

“Of course, Ms. Luthor. My apologies,” Kara replied.

“It’s Lena, Kara.”

“My operating system-”

“Won’t allow it, I know,” Lena huffed. 

“Precisely.” 

Only a second passed before: “It is getting late, and your sleeping patterns have shown symptoms of insomnia. Might I suggest saving the rest of your 25 year Caol Ila for another time?”

The shift from casual to formal was instantaneous. Lena swallowed, reminded of the algorithm; of the hardwiring and artificiality of the entire experiment.

The reminder carried Lena to bed as Kara went through her evening protocol: locks, lights, and temperature adjustments. Silence followed their routine; a contrast to their last few nights. It shouldn’t have bothered Lena as much as it did. When she’d finally settled in and Kara flicked off the sidelight, Lena had fallen into a familiar state of loneliness. She determined it was irrational and rolled on her side.

“Goodnight, Kara,” she called as she always did. She waited, listening for the familiar return that never came. With a pang that felt far too similar to heartache, she closed her eyes. A beat of more silence then-

“Can I change my answer?”

It burst through the apartment and nearly sent Lena catapulting from her bed. “What?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to - oh gosh, and it’s late and I’m not supposed to-”

“No, no, that's ok,” Lena replied hastily. She pretended her heart wasn’t racing and stomach wasn’t in her throat - all things Kara was surely logging. “Just scared me a bit.”

“I can tell, Ms. Luthor.”

“Right.” She couldn’t hide it if she tried, so Lena simply rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling; 

“What would you change it to?”

“Touch.”

“Touch,” Lena parroted again, softer this time, letting the idea sink in. “Anything specific?” she asked, feeling a sense of deja vu hang over her. She half expected Kara’s answer to repeat, but instead-

“Warmth. Something living.”

“Like a dog?” Lena offered, her voice raspy and mouth far too dry.

“While that would definitely rank in the top five, I’d much rather feel the warmth of a human. A companion, as they call it.”

“I see,” Lena breathed out. “You would want to experience a partner; a boyfriend perhaps-”

“Or girlfriend,” Kara replied simply, and Lena gripped tighter at the duvet she wasn’t aware of strangling. “As something that can’t, touch feels like the most intimate of functions. A hug, a handhold, a kiss.”

“A kiss?”

“Yes, Ms. Luthor.”

“I see,” Lena replied, because anything more might have broken her chest open.

“Good night, Ms. Luthor.”

“Good night, Kara.”

Lena knew better than to crave a thing that couldn’t be. She knew better than to feel an attachment for a machine. She knew better than to dwell in the fantasy of a real Kara Z walking the streets of National City, of living a life where potstickers and hugs were her happiest experiences, or of being someone who could ever want intimacy with someone like Lena.

She knew better, yes, but that didn’t stop her from imagining as a lone tear fell in the privacy of darkness.

- - - -

ask game

[prettycottonmouthlamia]

I still do play F/GO but it has definitely become more of my side game instead of my main game. F/GO is in this kind of weird state that I'm going to attempt to elucidate my feelings on by writing it, and while I'm here I'm not going to spend too much time talking about the writing because I haven't really actively followed the story since LB6 and a significant portion of that was me trying to see what Tenochtitlan's deal in OC3 was as well as reading Traum to my general suffering. I do think F/GO is massively spinning its wheels on the main plot but I digress. Apparently OC2 is really popular.

The core gameplay of F/GO is not...bad. I don't know if I would say it started from a particularly inspired place, but it is still a turn-based RPG with a relatively simple overall structure. I regularly play RPGs like Dragon Quest or Earthbound, frankly this isn't really that bad of a system. It does fairly often get used in interesting ways as well. Boss fights in F/GO, especially within the last few years, have been generally quite good. They're very often using the mechanics to tell a story or illustrate something about the boss. Barghest steals your Command Codes in battle because she's the devouring black dog who consumes everything powerful in front of her. Cernunnos explodes on your party every time you hit him because he's basically a corpse reanimated by the collective curses and grudges of thousands of years. ORT is shown to be hulking and extremely difficult to defeat though a massive raid battle where you constantly throw your entire repertoire of Servants in front of it, over and over again. Every single time, they fail. Their information gets absorbed by him. You can't use them again, and you literally are incapable of even delaying his progress.

The issue that F/GO has is that it is not a game that is a visual novel cut by climatic boss fights. Instead, to get to those really good boss fights, you often have to do _dozens_ of absolutely lame ass fights. There's a huge amount of dead air. In a game like Arknights, every fight does need to be handled with a modicum of different strategy and every event and story chapter has new gimmicks to throw your way. Sure, there are jokes that you can just throw overpowered 6-stars at everything, and yeah not all of the event mechanics are good, but they are there. In F/GO, 95% of the content can be handled the exact same way, only allowing for some slight differences depending on what flavor of DPS you're feeling on that day.

When none of the non-boss fights are remotely interesting, when they are all some kind of bland loop em all gameplay, the game grinds to a mind-numbing halt. This isn't helped by the fact that there are so many combat nodes in any given story chapter. I do like the harder content they've put out to a point, but I do often struggle to get much enjoyment out of the game right now mechanically.

[keepthedelta]

Maybe I'm being overly cynical (I Do Not know these people and this is just my outsider view), but the whole 'Piastri family social media' stuff has made me uncomfortable from the start because (to me) it gives off huge 'chasing clout and followers by using my famous family member'

None of them were particularly active social media posters before, none of them had an interest in influencing or building a career from it. But, suddenly now Oscar is more popular they are posting A Lot. (For comparison, someone like Max's sister has definitely used her brother to her advantage in gaining a following and popularity, but, she also seemingly always had an interest in fashion and makeup and having a career in it + her posts are not about Max/F1 directly)

It's only going to cause headache and pain and sorry, if my brother was famous, I would not want to even remotely see people thirst trapping him or shipping him romantically with people. Why would you invite that into your space. Also, if I was on Oscar's PR team I'd be fucking worried because what happens if your mother or sister says/posts something that is controversial or actually bad. That now will have a huge audience and actually affect how people see Oscar, and he will be obligated to comment on it. And, if he doesn't, it will be to his detriment (See Max and the Piquet family)

Obviously, fans should just act fucking normally, but we all know that isn't how things work on the internet. You sometimes have to take steps yourself to avoid getting into those situations.

see i personally don't view it as them using him for clout because i think that it is at minimum a symbiotic relationship from which they both benefit. i am a long time hater of the piastri family socials, but i have disliked it because in my personal opinion oscar's family are being used as fodder for his pr.

you say they weren't really active before oscar's career in f1 but even if they are seeking to become influencers etc. which i cannot confirm or deny because i don't know them and frankly have no interest in them, the main reason imo that they did become more active was for oscar. it seems as though his pr is very much trying to portray him as a normal, down to earth relatable kind of guy. a gen z kimi raikkonen who is very calm and level headed (even if he's nothing like kimi, nor honestly is kimi like that). and it benefits oscar (and by extension his pr team) for him to have a cool mum who says funny things on twitter and cool young sisters interested in kpop etc. who aren't impressed by him. his image benefits from the "normal family guy" aesthetic.

there's a reason dts wanted to film him having breakfast with his family. his family has become a part of his media strategy. his mother goes on podcasts or whatever as part of his pr strategy. she is there to talk about him and to promote him without it seeming like promotion. you think if oscar or his team didn't want that she would still have gone on? i don't. that's not to say she's being disingenuous or inauthentic, but i'm sure someone went through roughly what media narrative they wanted to tell and how she should tell it. they are part of oscar's media strategy. they're there to make people think that he's normal and just some guy who happens to be an exceptionally talented driver.

i don't know if his family are benefitting from his fame or to what extent they may be but it's not oscar who should be worried about fan response to his family, it's them. they are being used as a proxy personality for him (and i know that sounds mean but it's not intended as criticism of oscar himself) and at some point things are going to get nasty. what happens if oscar and lando get into an actual wdc title fight at some point? what happens if the chirlies or cultLH turn on him and his fans? oscar has the protection of being a famous f1 driver. his family don't. people will send death threats to his sisters or turn up at his mum's house. they'll search through everything they've ever posted looking for a miniscule detail to cancel them over and justify their hatred and abuse.

everyone involved in this, oscar, his family, his pr team, mclaren, their pr team, needs to recognise that enabling these parasocial relationships, letting people think of oscar's mum as their friend or mum figure, letting people think it's okay to send his sister rpf as though she's their friend is not acceptable. there do need to be boundaries (frankly i think that all f1 drivers need much stricter boundaries than they currently have because some fan behaviour is worrying. people have already shown up at charles's house this is not a worst case scenario it's already happening) for the safety of everyone involved.

i do also think there's something to be said about fan culture and the increasing entitlement to a public figure's life. as fans i think we all need to be a lot more respectful of these people, whether they're famous or simply connected to someone famous. at the end of the day they are people and should be granted basic respect and privacy because they are people. we do not know them, we are not friends with them. how we feel about them should have no bearing on their lives.

but public figures personal lives are increasingly being used for promotional purposes and i think they need to recognise that they are feeding the entitlement and aggression of fans when they do that. the reason why fans get more and more demanding is because people keep offering up more of themselves and their families for promotion. and i think that needs to stop before someone gets hurt.

[lightlycareless]

Hey I'm sorry for spamming you again 😭

But... imagine Y/N and Naoya pulling this prank on Naomi. I get that Naomi would be so mad at both of them

https://www.instagram.com/reel/C1cVXQwrHjV/?igsh=MWhrd3pvdWt4Nml2dQ==

Hello!!!

Sorry for the late reply, but I have to say, this never left my mind. This was really cuuuuuteeeeeeeee!!!!!!! I just had to oblige omg and don't worry about spamming me, I love it keep it coming!!!

You know what I think? Naoya is actually the one to suggest this. By doing so is when  when you know he’s completely accepted his role as a father and is enjoying doing so. Jfc thank you for sending in this NOW ONTO THE DRABBLE.

Warnings: none. Fluff. Naomi is a growing baby :’).

Naoya didn’t have any social media presence before you.

No, scratch that. He had a presence, only that it entailed stalking following you back then when he barely started to know you.

Once the two began to date, you convinced him to open up a proper Instagram, mainly so you could fill it with posts of you and him together, tag him on your pictures, and to make it easier to share things whenever the two are apart.

However, when you two finally have a beautiful daughter named Naomi, everything changes.

Besides opening an account of her own (only for friends and family of course, everyone else can jump off a cliff for all they care) to record of her day by day, from the cute matching outfits you’d dress her in, to her achievements, or simply anything she did that you found remotely funny.

Naturally, Naoya keeps up with every single thing that you post + all the messages you send him regarding his family; he is the first one to like and react and all in between as soon as you post them, and soon, he’s even looking for inspiration on what else to fill her feed with…

Or simply spend time with Naomi.

Thus, he begins to follow family content, accounts that suggest activities and places to go to with his lovely daughter… or innocent pranks to partake in.

That’s how the video came to be.

“What do you think? Shall we do it?” Naoya says, offering his phone to you.

“Oh… well, I don’t know.” You murmur, and not because you didn’t want to, but rather… “Naomi is too sweet, I don’t think she’s going to do anything besides giggle!”

“We don’t lose anything by trying.” He insists. “It’ll be funny if she does something, though. Might be able to record it too.”

“Alright, alright!” you quickly agree, not that really need much convincing. “We can do it once she wakes up from her nap!”

Thus, after little Naomi wakes up, as well as checking if she’s neither hungry nor in need for a change, Naoya is the first one to assume position, getting beneath the soft, warm covers and subsequently closing his eyes, ready to act as if he were asleep and let this prank begin.

“Go with papa, pumpkin!” you whisper once gently placing on the futon, just beside Naoya. She’d then begin to crawl over to him.

Naoya tried his best to not laugh at Naomi’s adorable coos and babbles, the ones clearly intending to call for her father’s attention, only to cruelly receive none of it.

She’d persist on by grabbing onto a handful of his hair and pulling it, hoping that by this he’ll finally stop acting the fool and look at her!

But after a few attempts, Naomi eventually gives up and instead does the most unexpected, cutest thing that either could’ve hoped, which was to nuzzle against his chest, close her eyes, and fall asleep once more.

How the two managed to not screech out of happiness is a mystery to remain, as well as his resistance to keep still while Naomi laid on him, perhaps the most difficult endeavor he had to endure in his whole life—no special grade mission could compete!

Either way, it was an adorable reaction that amounted to taking a few pictures, which both would fondly look at in the future.

Yet, your curiosity still demanded to know what kind of reaction Naomi would have towards you, thus, in another occasion, you’d replicate the same scenario although now in Naoya’s shoes, silently hoping that you’d also get a semblance of Naomi’s adorableness, not that you weren’t getting much of it any other time of the day, but you couldn’t allow yourself to be left out!!

So, you lay on the futon, with your husband placing Naomi besides you, doing your best to not giggle when she begins to prod at you, repeating somewhat of the same actions as she did with her father… though there was to be a slightly more aggressive edge to her actions, almost as if she’d caught onto their intentions and grew annoyed by it.

Perhaps… too annoyed, for this would be the first time either saw a new side of Naomi, the one that described far beyond a simple baby that radiated nothing but happiness and sunshine, a personality to be discovered, if not handled, because these negative emotions would be the first she’d ever experienced, and thus, ignorant on how to deal with them—unknowingly taking them out on you.

“Ouch!” you immediately shriek when Naomi’s small hand sharply slams against your cheek, repetitively doing so across your face until you eventually intervened by grabbing her arms. “No, don’t hurt mama!”

“Naomi!” Naoya gasps, quickly lifting her away from you. She whines, trying to fight against his hold while trying to reach out for you again. “No, Naomi, stop!”

“Nnghh bah!!” she protests, furiously trying to squirm her way out of his arms but failing. “Mah!”

“I won’t let you go back to mama if you’re going to keep hurting her!” Naoya declares, and for the briefest of moments Naomi seems to understand, enough for her to eventually quiet down and cease her rebuttal, but not from pouting or crying.

“Naomi… I would never ignore you intentionally!” you say, stretching your arms to hug her. Naoya lets her go with much hesitance, although by that point, Naomi could only express her regret. “It was just a silly prank, no need to be upset.”

Naomi pouts, as if embarrassed before resting her face onto your chest, sniffles eventually turning into hiccups.

“But that doesn’t mean it’s ok to hurt me, sweetie.” You add. “You hurt mama very bad.”

Naomi whines, and both know that even when young, she wholeheartedly regrets her actions.

Once tiring herself by crying, as well after eating a bit, Naomi would eventually fall asleep, giving both parents the perfect moment to ponder about what transpired and how to approach this situation.

“Why did she react that way? I never thought our little pumpkin had it in her, always so adorable…” Naoya sighs, crossing his arms as he relaxes against the wall while watching you prepare the food for that day.

“Well, not that you mention it… Naomi always whined whenever I had to peel my eyes off her.” You admit. “I thought she was being talkative, or simply acting like any other baby would when away from their mom, but I guess it was something deeper than that.”

“Who would’ve thought our daughter was the jealous type?” he snickers, you smile.

“Since she’s got you as a dad.”

“I’m not jea—”

You raise an eyebrow.

“Fine, alright. But I would never hurt you.”

“She’s just a baby, a cute, adorable one that is starting to discover her feelings and how to react to them.” You add. “Naomi must’ve been upset that we tried to do the same thing on her twice, when she just wanted to play.”

“Or that she called for us and we didn’t answer immediately.”

Like we usually do.

You sigh.

“Oh, I must’ve spoiled her horribly!” you cry. “I was advised against giving her too much attention, that it’ll make her more demanding and whatnot…”

“By whom? My relatives?” Naoya frowns, you look away. “I wouldn’t take advise from people that leave their children to their own whenever committing mistakes…”

“I don’t want to do something that will hurt Naomi in the long turn” you quietly admit, looking back at him. “But I’m also scared of reprimanding her, of seeing her upset!”

Raising a daughter was not to be an easy thing, as enthusiastic both were. Her fate, the way she’ll grow up to be, all the achievements she’ll obtain and more greatly rely on what you, as her parents do; in that case, there is no room for mistake…

But luckily for Naomi, she had both her mother and father wanting nothing but what’s best for her, and after understanding what needed to be done, the two began to help her channeling her emotions into something more positive—something that will hopefully branch out into sorcery when the time is right, Naoya hopes.

That didn’t mean Naomi would stop demanding of either your or Naoya’s attention (specifically yours) though in a less aggressive manner. She’d still a bit overzealous whenever others attempted to sway you away from her, (Naoya included) but that wouldn’t last long until she was doted on by the same people that tried to distract her—always loving the attention, Naomi was never one to deny them.

Though her behavior could sometimes become concerning, Naoya and you knew well to enjoy these short moments with her, for it wouldn’t be long before she’d grow up and leave these antics behind, just as most kids did, replacing them with a bit of… apprehension for said demonstrations of affection.

Or preference for pranks, that is.

“When will you two stop doing that?” Naomi would eventually ask after the nth prank that week—at first, they’d make her laugh, then confused, but now, irritated. As expected of a young teenager who wanted nothing but to not appear humiliating to her friends.

“Probably never, little pumpkin.” He answers with a chuckle. “Not when your reactions are hilarious.”

“And when will you stop calling me that?!” Naomi frowns, cheeks red. Naoya laughs once more.

“See?” he shrugs. “You’re not helping yourself, Naomi!”

“Ugh, whatever.” She rolls her eyes, turning around to leave. “Have fun with your lame and old jokes.”

“Old?? I’m not—I’m not old!”

Long are the days where adorable little Naomi would scurry to her parents whenever she could, chubby little hands reaching out for them so they’d carry her, giggling as soon as her cheeks where peppered with kisses.

But she’ll always remain their little one, the one that taught them love at first sight does exist, the wonders of parenthood, as well as what it’s like to be the embarrassing parent for once in their life—a bane they never thought to experience, thinking themselves to be cooler than average, a reality that was quickly shattered with Naomi's sharp refutal.

It's like a cycle, y/n and naoya preaching that they could never be uncool and then... Naomi comes along. hahahah

Anyways, I envisioned for a long time now that Naomi is quite aggressive when it comes to getting what she wants; she probably never shows that because you and naoya just endlessly dote on her—but it becomes quite apparent in situations like this, and of course, when she has siblings.

though with hard work and dedication that stops :> she learns that being jealous about something like that (something that she'll always have) is not the right way to go on with her life and it's also a waste of energy so, she moves on :) I wish naomi could stay a little baby forever tho, writing naoya and y/n as enthusiastic first time parents is 🥺❤️

I truly enjoyed writing this little drabble, it warmed my heart 🥺❤️ thank you so much for sending in this!! I always appreciate whatever you share with me 🤭 I look forward to the next hehe.

Take care, and hope to see you soon!!

[talesfromlissom]

“I DON’T NEED A MAP TO KNOW THAT WE’RE LOST” // ROTTMNT!Donatello x reader|| Could be seen as platonic, G/N reader

SUMMARY – Per usual, your idiotic nature gets you and Donatello lost in the Undercity, and per usual, its up to Donatello to fix it. And also per usual, he’s being an ass about it. (Random Prompt included – “I don’t need a map to know that we’re lost.” – words may be changed to sound more in character)

WARNINGS – None

To say that you were annoyed would be an understatement. “It’s not my fault that we got lost in the undercity, y’know,” You exclaim, throwing your hands into the air before slouching in your seat. A pout weaves itself across your face, soon followed by your arms crossing over your chest in anything but a mature display. The twitch of Donatello’s brow and how his eyes don’t even briefly flicker up towards you from his screen is all you need to know: he isn’t listening. You huff at this, grabbing the plastic cup of juice beside his right arm and taking a long, large, and loud sip. He sighs, “Must you be a nuisance? I am trying to find us a way home.” 

“You’re angry at me.” “I assure you I am not.” “You’re a bad liar.” Now, it's Donatello’s turn to pout. It's not really a pout, but he frowns at you while his mouth presses into a thin line. His gaze briefly lifts from his tablet before he promptly snatches the plastic cup back. He ignores your protests and shakes the cup before sipping the straw. You watch with an open mouth as he downs the remaining juice and puts the empty cup back onto the table. The area you’re in could technically count as a strip mall. It was buzzing with activity as you two sat on a wooden picnic table just outside a store with crystals and leather necklaces in the display windows. The hidden city was filled with giant footsteps, occasional shouts, and other noises you didn’t quite recognize. Other than the murmur of conversations from passing shoppers in other languages that don’t sound human, it could almost make you feel like you were at home. If you were to shut your eyes of course. Nobody in this area looked even remotely human. You pull the hood over your head still, scratching the front of your neck, mouth scrunching up as you look above you. You fully expect to see the bright blue sky and the blaring sun that usually accompanies a day like this. You’re met with a green and black rock ceiling instead. “Donnie,” You whine, sliding down the seat more. “C’mon, what’s taking so long? I thought you were supposed to be the tech whizz guy.” Donatello does nothing but snicker a bit. “I am the tech guy,” he replies. I am attempting to get a signal to the surface so I may call my brother to pick us up.” “Who, Raph?” “Leo.” “What, why? I thought you were gonna use GPS to get us home?” Donatello doesn’t reply at first, before a grimace inches across his face. You see his console turn red. Donatello scoffs as he puts his arm down and just…pulls his phone from his pocket. “Donnie, I’m pretty sure you can just put your home address in and use google maps or something.” “I do not need a map to know we are lost, dearest Y/N,” He retorts. “And I cannot get a strong enough signal either.” There’s a visible pause in his words before he speaks again, “If my father grounds me for being out this early in the morning, I’m blaming you.” This is just met with a scoff and roll of your eyes. 

WORD COUNT – 541

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[shininjjongg]

What’s left unsaid

Author’s note: Just a lil drabble, haven’t really written anything in years, hope y’all enjoy :)  Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x gn!Reader Word count: 554 TW: uh, none i’d say. I don’t think there is any, if there is feel free to let me know so I can put it up! :) 

Bakugou is the type of guy who will do everything a boyfriend does but never actually say anything that would even remotely resemble a confession. “I like you” he’s sure he will never be able to speak those words out loud due to the huge lump stuck in his throat every time he tries to speak up. “Be my lover” he, in fact, wanted to ask you to be his lover this one time when he got you your favourite flowers and you two went to an amusement park and got some ice-cream but every time he opened his mouth to ask you the big question words never seem to come out of it. And that’s how he ended up in this situation. 

In his mind, you two were dating. Surely, you were smart enough to have realised Bakugou only did those cheesy, romantic things with you and no one else. Aside from that, you two, in his eyes, did everything couples do. He always brought extra lunchbox with the food that he cooked for you, and he never forgot to get you your favourite drink as well. You and him had study dates every weekend, movie dates, you guys went out to get food, to go to arcades, walk, and do all the things couple do. 

However, it never occurred to you that Bakugou could, in fact, have feelings for you. You thought he was being friendly and all the activities you two engaged in had no alternative motives and were strictly platonic. 

Even now, you two were in the shared living room of Class A’s dormitory, sat next to one another and giggling in Bakugou’s shoulder as Kirishima was telling a funny story that happened to him recently. Everything was going smoothly until Kaminari decided to ask the question that everyone else was dying to know the answer to.

“So, y/n and Bakugou, how long have you two been dating?”

The question startled you a bit, you and Bakugou dating? No way they thought you two were together. You shifted away from Bakugou, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed. A small blush had appeared on your cheeks as you chuckled and spoke up “We’re not datin-” “It’s been 5 mon-”

You and Bakugou spoke simultaneously, and as the answers of one another registered in your brain, both of you cut your sentence off. You gazed at Bakugou, eyes wide in pure shock as he mirrored your expression. An uncomfortable silence had taken over the whole room, suffocating the two of you. You tried to say something, anything but it seemed impossible to phrase a coherent sentence. And so you watched silently as Bakugou bit his lip in embarrassment and what seemed to be sadness in his crimson cue, unable to do anything. He waited for you to laugh and say that you were joking or that you were just messing with him, but those words never left your mouth. He had no other choice but to get up and leave the room. It was painful enough to learn that he had been living in his delusions this whole time, and on top of it all, everyone else was there to witness it too. 

As he made his way to his room, he looked over his shoulder in hopes that you’d follow him shortly.

[1141520851813892291920]

ENT0010

RE: Jonathan Sims, Electronic Reference Specialist (Margaret Usher Library of Discreet & Internal Research).

I am starting to realize that it was...perhaps too hasty of a decision to dismiss Jon's life before as irrelevant. As unreal as it may be - as I continue to believe that it must be - it does hold more clues to a puzzle I still can't quite get the shape of yet. He may have more useful things than computer passwords and library cards to share with me.

Much of his life was so similar to mine, I had assumed it didn't warrant careful review. We grew up in the same area, had the same distant grandmother, the same thirst for books and fascination with the darker side of the paranormal. We both got an A level in drama despite seeing no use for it, and even though he went to Cambridge instead of Oxford, our University experiences were more or less the same. He faired a bit better in the relationship department...

But instead of The Magnus Institute, this Jon caught the attention of the Usher Foundation. He was hired in a seemingly innocuous, if spontaneous, candidate selection process for a consulting research position in an academic library. The interviews were all conducted remotely, his references from the British Museum and his professors were apparently glowing, and his appointment - though perhaps too generously compensated - was not in any way...suspicious.

So far, I've regulated Jon's professional life to a temporarily necessary inconvenience, something that was worth putting up with while I oriented myself and refocused on my own investigations in this New Place [research presently ongoing. I will make a separate post with current theories]. His job was nothing too taxing - largely sitting at his computer and completing various reference requests for an academic research library. It reminded me of the Institute, in a way, in the early days. I do still quite enjoy research, and the library's resources are vast. None of the ongoing work has set off any alarms, nothing too odd - quite a few local history and genealogy requests, tracking immigration and family trees, some specialized scientific questions that were more of a challenge but not impossible, copies of old academic journals and microfiche of old newspapers. A few interesting rabbit holes that sated me enough that I bothered to finish them.

Looking back at the work log...there is more specialized research on the subjects of a more...hah- "spooky" nature: apparitions, manifestations, ESP, astral projection, irregularities in reality, etcetera. It was these topics in particular that Jon spent most of his time on. Most notably, however, these requests only come from three primary accounts: GROBI1 CUSHE1 PSHELL3 [NOTE: While this account was highly active in the beginning, requests stop entirely after 2021.

Jon was under the impression that all three of these individuals were his direct superiors in his department, though it was purely speculation as he had never, in fact, met any of his colleagues in person. His office is located in the university's library depository building, and the only other employees he ever has contact with are student workers or otherwise the depository's building supervisor.

The only one he had actually spoken to outside of emails at all with GROBI1, who sat in on his initial interview and, from what he understood, was the one who hired him. GROBI1...Gertrude Robinson, chief researcher and head of the Midwest Regional Usher Foundation office.

I am...ashamed at myself for not having realized this, or acknowledged this sooner. I have been so reluctant to accept any of Jon's memories for fear of losing my own, a fear I still hold, but how much did he...Know? I searched his apartment again, following the fake memories to hidden caches of what appears to be stolen case files...He was looking into something. I'm not sure what, other than he did NOT trust his employer...some things never change, I suppose.

I feel oddly...nostalgic with this discovery. Once again, I am sitting on the unfinished work of a paranoid archivist working secretly against the powers the be while trying to find my place in everything...or perhaps, this is just proof that things are cyclical. Will the same events unfold, just with different colors and mediums? Will I find myself walking through the remains of a destroyed world, blood drying on my paper hands?

It is a familiar fear that I feel, too, just as nostalgic as anything else. More than that fear though, I feel the rising and demanding hunger. It drives me as Beholding did, pushing driving seeking hunting each precious piece of knowledge into the thorned and venomous thickets of secrets and Things that Should Not Be. I, too, Should Not Be. I am Wrong, here. My presence in this place is a slowly spreading cancer and I have already infected so many around me. I cannot stop. I don't want to...stop.

I will not stop, until I Know what This Is.

[sgt-scottymoreau]

Three Cs; Cozy, Calm, Christmas

Summary: A nice Christmas with just the two of them.

Warning: None

Words: 1k // // Masterlist

A/N: I'm not much a christmas person myself but this popped in my head after the cute little gift I received :3 Thanks again @cloudofbutterflies92 for the moodboard! Love it! Not double checking this one, just wrote and post, we accept the consequences of typos here!

The thing about working in the military is that, days civilians people would have off were sometimes regular work days. Depending on many factors, either you would still be able to enjoy the evening or… well it was just easier to make christmas on another day that was free. It also meant that it was rare to be able to have vacation during that period. Last year, she was lucky to have been able to have some, even if it had been closer to New Year. This time, well…

Scotty slammed the door of the car with a groan. It has been a long day and she was more than happy to be home. Christmas was not necessarily her favorite holiday per say. She enjoyed it, but with so many of them sometimes spending without the whole family together, she learned to mainly enjoy the holiday time around the end of the year instead. However this wouldn’t stop her from partaking in some more christmas-y activities. Ghost had to stay a little longer so she wasn’t exactly sure when he would be home, in the meantime, she knew how to keep busy. 

After a quick change in some more comfortable clothes and a good old classic ugly sweater, Scotty went on with her plan. She turned the oven on, in the meantime, she prepared the cookies on the tray. It was an old recipe her mother always made back then. Sugar cookies. Maybe it wasn’t such a family recipe, but it was the memories attached to it that meant the most. As she was cutting the dough, her phone rang. She was quite surprised to see her sister's name, especially with a video call. A quick setup and she answered.

“Hey Gab-”

“Tatie! Merry Christmas!” The two boys shouted, half fighting to be in the camera.

“Hey boys! Merry Christmas to you too. So how are my favorite twins in the world?”

“Santa brought this!” Nicolas held a remote controlled car. He went on showing more of them. Camille listened to all the possibilities of how they would use it and when, nodding with a smile as she kept going with her baking.

Ghost pushed the door with one thing in mind, relax. Get on the couch and do nothing. The smell of the cookies did reach his nose and gave him some sort of second wind. He was definitely curious as to what was being made. That and the french chat that was clear as day echoing. By instinct he had to reach to remove his mask but hearing the voices he kept it. The brit dropped his bag, removed his shoes and silently made his way to the kitchen. There she was leaning on the counter in front of her phone which was propped on a container. Scotty noticed him. Ghost gestured at her to not say a thing, he was going to the bedroom first. He changed as well with a little surprise. 

Scotty kept the conversation with her sister going, till Ghost came back with a very funny sweater. She couldn’t help but chuckle at how ridiculous it was. ���Really? Fishes?”

“I thought you might like it.” His eyes caught on the cookies in the oven. Oh so that was it! He walked to her and pressed a kiss on her cheek through the fabric of his balaclava. He greeted Gabrielle. The next thing he saw was the camera shaking and two little faces pushing themselves in front of their mother.

“Tonton Simon!” He couldn’t help it. Hearing them calling like that, it made him smile like an idiot. 

“Tatie, ask him! Ask him!” Mathéo prompted quickly followed by Nicolas’s support. Ghost raised an eyebrow.

Camille smiled as she went to take the cookies out of the oven. “They want to know if your gift to them is you finally showing your face. Their argument, it’s been a year so you should trust them right?”

“Face!” Nicolas said with a very accented english. He tried. 

Ghost chuckled. The boys weren’t so wrong, but it was always fun to keep the secret. He grabbed his mask around the nose level. The twins were eager! Ghost pulled just enough to reveal his nose and gestured that this was enough for now. A detail Scotty voiced for him. The kids groaned in disappointment, but were still happy with the progress. 

“CamCam, you sure you can’t come this year?” Mathéo asked again.

“Yes sweetie. I have to work, I’m sure your mom told you all about it. But I promise as soon as I can, I’m coming to visit.”

“Ok boys, time to leave your aunt alone, she probably wants some time with her boyfriend. Say bye.” 

Camille shook her head with a smile. More like Gabrielle had more things to do and she couldn’t let the boys on her phone for too long. They waved goodbye and now it was just her and Ghost. 

He wrapped his arm around her waist and looked at the tray that was still warm.

“That looks good.” 

“Dessert for tonight. What’s for dinner?”

He grabbed a paper from the counter. “Wasn’t easy to find something open, but I did.”

One final quick setup in the living room and the two of them were cozy on the couch, watching whatever first movie they found to keep company. Scotty was resting her head on his shoulder mindlessly half following what was going on. His head on hers, his eyes half open. He would jokingly say he hated when this happened, but he loved this warm and cozy feeling. Be together, in silence, enjoying the moment. It was all he needed. 

Christmas never rhymed with big family parties. Whenever her dad would be around, because he wasn’t often, they would just spend it with the four of them. Enjoying as much time they could together and it was always calm. Right now, she very much enjoyed her calm Christmas, in the comfort of her own place with the man she loved. It was all she needed.

[getvalentined]

Torn (For the Ask Game)

TORN

🎟️ SEXUALITY HEADCANON: Torn is biromantic and somewhere on the asexual spectrum. Not purely asexual, because he does find some people very sexually attractive, but it's pretty rare.

⚧�� GENDER HEADCANON: If asked, Torn would say that's none of anyone else's business.

💕 A SHIP: I honestly don't really ship Torn with anyone? I have an AU where he ends up with a version of Jak, but it's overly complicated and would never work in anything remotely closer to canon. I do think he's in love with Ashelin, but I also think he has terrible taste so it's not really something I'm into.

🖇️ A BROTP: Torn+Tess is probably my favorite, I love the implied character dynamic between them and I wish we'd gotten to see more of it. They seem to trust each other implicitly, and I'd love to know how they got to that point in their relationship!

🚫 A NOTP: Torn/Erol was reasonably popular back in the day but I'm really not into it. I appreciate a good hateship as much as the next person, but I don't think either of them would put in the effort to actually engage with each other in that way.

💭 A RANDOM HEADCANON: This one is pretty common now, but I've been in this fandom so long that it wasn't really the accepted fanon theory back when I was most active and thus I still treat it like my own headcanon—Torn's voice is Like That because his throat was slashed open during the assault on the Sacred Site that led to the loss of the old holy district. This attack also left him in a coma for multiple days, during which time Samos dedicated all his energy to helping him pull through, and Torn was presumed dead by Praxis and the rest of Haven's leadership. He survived, obviously, but honestly never fully recovered, which is why he always has a respirator (even if he's not using it) and very rarely works in the field anymore.

🗣️GENERAL OPINION: I'mma be honest, I fucking love Torn. I love his character development, the introduction as a gruff hardass and then the revelation that he's sentimental enough to put everything at risk for the safety of one person, followed by him standing up and refusing to wallow in his own guilt. Such a cool character. I can see why his people follow him so fervently.

(For the character ask game.)

[dutyworn]

@firstkeptdaughter said: for the shepard ask meme - 3. What’s their relationship with Anderson? // 48. What abilities do they rely on the most in a fight? // 29. How active is Shepard? Are they hitting the gym, playing sports, or do they prefer quieter downtime? // 19. Are there any companions your Shepard just absolutely cannot vibe with or relate to // 5. How well does Shepard know their crew? Not just the companions, but the folks making up the Normandy // 11. What order does Shepard pick up companions in me2?

fifty questions for commander shepard    /    ACCEPTING ↷

3. What’s their relationship with Anderson? :: Anderson is very much a father-figure for her. Nothing such is ever explicitly said between the two, but the way she looks up to him and the way he, mostly professionally, at some point (probably around Akuze), took her under his wing, makes it feel that way at least for her, and maybe for Anderson as well. It's also why "you did well, child" hits so hard when he dies. It's the one time he's used remotely paternal language with her and it's both validating and heartbreaking.

48. What abilities do they rely on the most in a fight? :: Answered here.

29. How active is Shepard? Are they hitting the gym, playing sports, or do they prefer quieter downtime? :: She cannot sit still to save her life ksnsss. She's always moving, if she can be moving; she loves combat simulators and says they help her "relax", she's constantly running on a treadmill, coaxing friends to spar with her, etc. Having to sit with her thoughts, alone, makes her climb the walls like a creechure.

19. Are there any companions your Shepard just absolutely cannot vibe with or relate to :: No, none of the squadmate characters. She's not instantly best friends with everyone - she has reservations, sometimes, but there's no one she doesn't end up trusting on her team with, and at least on a casual level vibing with. She's excellent at getting along with and finding common ground with different people. She can often have initial reservations about mercenary types, like Zaeed and even Wrex, definitely Thane, Miranda because she seems ruthless at first meet and is Cerberus (hi Miranda mun sorry Miranda mun I love her and Shepard becomes close friends with her in the way I see it in gameplay as well), etc. but she, as a rule, doesn't let these reservations show. She very firmly believes that she cannot build trust without extending trust; a team isn't formed on a foundation of suspicion and distrust, and this is a technique that has worked well for her. Honestly, to think of it, there are probably fewer squadmates she doesn't have some reservations about, initially, than ones she instantly would trust with her life or think she's going to be super close with, but she figures things out with every one of them. Deliberately gets to know them and befriends them. Zaeed is definitely the hardest for her to vibe with, due to the nature of his loyalty mission and him not only not considering civilians, but also behaving completely out of control, seeming incapable of following the original plan for no good reason...

5. How well does Shepard know their crew? Not just the companions, but the folks making up the Normandy :: Answered here.

11. What order does Shepard pick up companions in me2? :: I may still tweak this, but currently my timeline says: Kasumi (goes to the Citadel to stock up first, recruited automatically), Zaeed (again automatic on arriving on Omega), Mordin, Garrus, Jack, Tali (early recruit mod, before Horizon), Thane, Grunt, Samara, Legion.

[deadendtracks]

response to this post by @divinekangaroo, continuing the conversation.

These moments I really appreciate your concise, coherent meta posts!

sorry just had to point out that this made me laugh because i do not consider my meta to be remotely concise and usually wish I could write short snappy meta posts without having to keep the entirety of the show in my mind. i'm often thinking things through as i write too! thanks for calling it coherent though, I appreciate it :)

I'd asked what you made of the fact that Tommy is the only family member who uses his body like this re: the discussion of the 'subaltern' and Tommy's ethnicity and its impact on his sexuality.

And I definitely should have been more clear that I meant the only one of his male family members, because I think you were talking about the way the perceptions of the 'exotic' or 'subaltern' impact the view of a minority ethnicity's maleness/male sexuality, I think? But forgive me for not going back and finding that passage again!

You're right that Polly especially uses her body this way, with Campbell in s2. I don't remember an example of Ada doing it, and I'm not sure what you mean regarding Arthur with Linda. I don't see a similarity between Arthur/Linda and Tommy's use of his body/sex in the way we've been discussing. But maybe I'm missing something!

But, I also feel there’s a deliberate presentation of Tommy’s consideration of his ethnicity as different to how most of his family consider it (long different conversation), because of the alignment to his mother that none of the rest of the family have (another long different conversation).  This assumes a reading of his mother as far more closely associated with his (rather silent/compressed) relationship with his ethnicity, too. Polly and Uncle Charlie's comments reinforce this reading in a few points. So this different relationship he has with his ethnicity also leads into a different intersection of that with his sexual activities.

Yeah, definitely. I think this is supported in the show, even to the point where I believe he's the only one of his direct family to speak Romani (or what passes for Romani when they were ignorantly using Romanian instead early on, I think??) on screen. Johnny Dogs and Esme both do, but as far as I recall only Arthur and Polly are shown understanding it but not speaking it (which doesn't mean they can't, it just stands out that Tommy's the only one shown to speak).

When Tommy does use his body, I think it’s repeating behaviours he’s seen and understood as an available way for those with no power and limited influence to exert more influence, and those behaviours were drawn from watching the behaviours of primarily women of his family. And will mostly talk about Polly because that's what we do see on screen, extrapolating there was more of this sort of exchange going on around Tommy in his youth, too.

That's definitely a possibility. The Lees call his mother a whore in that s1 episode where he's trying to provoke them into a fight, which may or may not have basis in reality.

I think the show also includes significant hints of the Othering/exoticism associated with Tommy’s (and Polly’s) ethnicity in a way that shows it is connected to sexual behaviours/body trading – May talks about everyone laughing about when he’ll steal the silver, which is a Romani stereotype more than working class or racketeer; I think you mentioned once Tatiana does it too with the allusion to Tommy squatting in his own house.

I won't quote everything you wrote but yeah!

I think where I wasn't sure I could follow your initial thesis was that you'd been talking about the subaltern re: specifically the impact on men and none of the men in Tommy's family/circle behave this way, especially his brothers. But yes, absolutely Polly does, and there's that slur towards his mother, etc.

And for Tommy: Campbell, Hughes and Mosley’s sexually charged ethnic slurs (or ethnically charged sexual attacks?) towards Tommy are a whole essay on their own.

Oh definitely. And Tommy is often pre-emptively and defensively brings up these bigoted stereotypes (towards the auctioneer when he buys Grace's Secret, for example, to the Russians and Hughes when he talks about his father, etc.).

but because Tommy’s a man, there’s always that sort of mental hiccup first?

Yep!

 BUT, his partners (and sexual aggressors) actually do acknowledge his ethnicity if with varying directness, and using uncomfortable stereotypes/terms. Tommy either forcefully silences his ethnicity in their encounters, or, he acknowledges his ethnicity but it’s in difficult and uncomfortable ways.

At this point I'm just highlighting bits I think were put really well!

It all feels like a wound he can't touch, ethnicity / mother. (He also never engages with Alfie on this line, despite multiple times Alfie opens that door.) And so the deliberateness of his omission conversely makes his ethnicity feel quite dominant in his sense of self and identity for me, in the way this series frequently uses silences and omissions to show the shape of something there.

Yeah!

The Romani layer is silenced in so much fandom discussion -- as if the masculine v feminine becomes the sole question rather than as well as, why does a Romani man in particular in that position maybe think to behave that way/why did they choose to portray a Romani man in particular behaving that way. Like, could any of his thinking to behave that way (or, could the expectations and approaches of his sexual partners/aggressors) have anything to do with the rather abundant late 1800s/early 1900s literary and pseudoethnographic texts which exotify and hypersexualise his ethnicity? (watch out for that gypsy man stealing women, the tinker sleeping with your wife while you're at work, etc etc; then he looks at someone like May, and maybe Arthur and John only see a hunger for working class cock, but Tommy is maybe consciously just a little bit leaning into that exotic stereotype as well, horses and goldfish etc, because it might gain him advantage?)

Yeah. Again idk how a Romani person would see this discussion (and the show's handling of it all) so I hesitate to really draw any strong conclusions either way, but I do think this is intentional in the writing of his character and in the performance, for sure. And this may also be why fandom doesn't tend to talk about this aspect much: not wanting to get it horrifically wrong in ways that would hurt a real person. Probably we do though, out of ignorance.

#the show did go there though; the gutpunch of shit getting real I felt in the S5 scene when Mosley refers to the 'wog language'#tommy's absolute stillness and silence in response; even words even those words which were always just him and his family stripped from him

Yeaaaah absolutely. And while it's definitely not the same as the social position of a Romani person in Europe (or even a Traveller in Ireland, which the Shelbys are also hinted to have relations to re: speaking Shelta), I do think Cillian Murphy's performance reveals a potential familiarity with being on the receiving end of bigotry, and how a character it's aimed at might react. If not from direct personal experience, certainly from family/national history of being colonized.

Sorry I don't have a lot to add here, I was just interested in hearing more of your thoughts on the topic and not sure if I understood where you were coming from re: Tommy's place as the only male family member who does these things. Thanks for taking the time to eloquently expand on your ideas!

[melis-writes]

Fanfic Disclaimer: If you don't like it, please don't read it.

After writing and working fanfics continuously now on a daily basis for almost two years now, unfortunately it seems like making this post now is sadly unavoidable. 🫤 I feel the need to finally mention the disclaimer I'm putting on all my fics/work now due to a constant pattern of anon hate, insults, de*th threats and unwanted "constructive" criticism on my work.

I can't stress enough: if you don't like a fanfic for any reason whatsoever, you don't have to read it! You really don't. Nobody's making you read anything you don't want to and you're not a bad guy if you put it down the first paragraph in or five chapters in. Another thing you don't need to do at all whatsoever is send hate comments/asks, or tell fic authors they're writing is shit and their fic is too. Unwarranted, rude and hateful comments only make you look like the awful person, not someone with a "different opinion". 😕

This exact kind of disgusting behavior is a huge cause of why many fanfic authors delete all of their works, stop posting, and stop writing. I ignored it for some time myself but seeing that it's clearly going to continue periodically and not stop, I'm addressing it all in this post.

From the past almost 2 years since I've been writing Moth to Flame, I've been repeatedly a target of this behavior/bullying up to the point where it's evolved to anon hate/blogs that I've blocked changing locations to send me asks, sending me and my fics hate while making new blogs to interact with me, actively reading my fics and writing hate comments on them, and interacting with my blog while continuing to send me hate over a fanfic. 😶 What it's evolved to is downright ridiculous and insane and I am no longer entertaining it in any way, shape or form whether it comes on AO3 comment sections or here.

I'm not going anywhere. I'm never going to stop writing fics or my original work. Writing is my hobby, my passion, one of my favourite things to do and this hasn't changed for 16 years and it never will. I'm not going to delete my fics/works for anyone or anything and that includes anon hate and every nasty message inbetween. I'm here to stay, and nobody is obligated to read my fics or even interact with my blog so please, if you don't like me, my writing and anything regarding it from the style to the characters' personalities and down to the plot, unfollow me. Block me. Please don't interact with me in any way if you don't like me/my writing for whatever reason.

My welcome onto Tumblr after beginning to post the first few chapters of Moth to Flame was anon hate and nasty messages. Because of a fanfic, I've been told to "stop writing it because it discourages other fanfic authors" due to Moth to Flame's soaring popularity, that I have "ego problems" from accepting and being grateful for feedback and compliments, that I "think I'm better than every other fanfic writer" because I'm confident and comfortable with my writing style and skill and refuse to insult myself or downplay my own talent in some way, that I have a monopoly on Michael Corleone x Reader fics and that I supposedly think "nobody else can write good Michael Corleone x Reader fics". ??? None of these are remotely true at all. ☹️

Since then, I've had growing suspicions this kind of bullying and behaviour was coming exclusively from The Godfather fandom and unfortunately, I was right. 🫤 Being in many fandoms for long periods of time on and on for years, The Godfather fandom is the first fandom I've ever been in where I've seen blogs group up and gang up on other blogs to send anon hate/make nasty posts about them, have someone tell me to k*ll myself over a fanfic, encourage other blogs/users to individually send hate (over anything, ships, headcanons, etc.), make new blogs to send hate and to follow/stalk from and so much more disgusting, awful behavior.

It got all the more concerning when I had friends and mutuals telling me they're distancing themselves from The Godfather fandom and choosing to have nothing to do with it or follow anyone from it. I've had beloved mutuals and friends deactivate their blogs over witnessing this behaviour in the fandom. 💔

Over a fanfic, I've had anon hate telling me I'm a misogynist/hate women because Moth to Flame is based in the late 1940s/1950s, that Victoria has "too many children", that there's "too much smut" in a SMUT fic, that Victoria "isn't shy enough" (just to name a few) and users telling me how I should write my own fanfic and my portray my own characters differently because they don't like how the plot went or how the character acted. These are no longer bits of "constructive" criticism, but condescending insults coming from individuals who clearly don't like my fics or my writing, but refuse to stop reading them, refuse to stop interacting with me and continue to send more anon asks and anon AO3 comments.

I believe that one of the many great things about second person perspectives in writing/fanfics is that you get to step into a new world and experience the plot with or as the character. This doesn't mean the character is going to be 100% like you and it's not my intention or wish to do that or change my characters entirely so someone likes them better either.

I'm all for difference of opinion and love the unique ways my readers enjoy my works and react to them. 🥰 I've received many intriguing comments/feedback on my fics where readers were shocked by a plot twist or didn't expect a character to behave a certain way, even that to them the characters weren't good people, etc, or have asked questions about why something happened the way it did or why a character is the way they are. I've always been happy to answer and been more than okay with welcoming all opinions and comments on my fic so as long as they are kind.

I'm not accepting any type of comments/submissions/asks of the sort received containing "constructive criticism" of any kind over a fanfic, telling me how to write/portray my characters, telling me to alter/change the plot, etc.

I'm very happy to block, report, rinse and repeat whether it be here or on AO3. I've met some amazing people from The Godfather fandom on here and made the best of friends with many, but to ignore the toxicity here is to ignore the obvious. This isn't okay. Please for the love of God, read fanfiction you enjoy and interact with blogs you enjoy, not the opposite.

I will always love and welcome thoughtful and kind comments/feedback on my fics but I'm not going to stop writing my fics, I'm not going to change my characters or alter the plots because someone doesn't like them.

To my beloved readers, followers and mutuals who love and support my writing and fics: thank you. ❤️ I'm forever and always grateful for every bit of your appreciation and feedback. Thank you so much for everything. I can't wait to write more fics and share my writing with you guys!

If you don't like it, please don't read it and please don't send hate over it to any fanfic writers and to their fics.

[solciego]

If you could write an historical AU (any era ) where they go on some sort of trip or travel that would be fun to read ! :)

The tenderness with which I hold you Words: 1217 Regency au (highly based on Bridgerton xd)

Mikasa definitely needs some time alone.

She wasn't a big fan of balls, and being surrounded by men seeking her attention this season was torture enough. Moreover, considering her aunt was persistently pushing her to marry Viscount Zeke Jaeger, a man much older whom she despised for the disgusting way he looked at her, the situation became even more unbearable.

Ever since reaching the age to marry, her aunt, Kiyomi, had become her shadow, and every social event was an opportunity for her to push her towards an unpleasant marriage and secure an advantageous union. Following the path society expected of her each day was becoming increasingly suffocating. Each time the idea of a convenient marriage with a wealthy man was mentioned, Mikasa felt her freedom and authenticity slowly fading away.

She was ready to give up and remain single for the rest of her life.

Tired of the leering gazes and suggestive comments she had faced at the reception, Mikasa finally decides to find a place to escape from that social charade. She carefully opens the door to the first empty room she finds and unexpectedly encounters Jean on the balcony, finishing smoking a cigarette. Their gazes meet, and Mikasa can notice a hint of surprise in Jean's eyes as he extinguishes the cigarette under his foot.

"I see I'm not the only one seeking some peace," he says with a smile as he approaches her. A faint smile also forms on Mikasa's lips.

"My dance card is filled with dates that will hardly materialize," she replies with a sigh, reflecting her disinterest in social activities.

"It's been a busy season, hasn't it?" Jean asks, trying to keep the conversation light.

She shrugs. "With Historia Reiss as the diamond of the season, my aunt has been more insistent than ever on finding me a husband."

Jean can't help but chuckle; he knew her aunt well and knew how persistent she could be when she had something in mind. "And what's been stopping you so far?" he asks curiously.

"It's just that... All those men are so shallow. The only one who's even remotely interesting is Armin, but I see him more like a brother," Mikasa confesses, revealing her most sincere thoughts. At each ball, she was pushed towards high-status suitors, but none of them sparked even the slightest interest in her. They all seemed to be interested solely in her foreign beauty, and none took the time to get to know her as a person.

Jean ponders for a moment before responding. "You certainly deserve better than that."

Mikasa smiles gratefully at him. "And you?" she asks, recalling that Jean had not found a wife and didn't seem interested in the matter.

"I suppose it's the same for me. They're only interested in my dowry."

As Duke of Trost, Jean held a position and fortune that irresistibly attracted many women interested in securing their future, especially ambitious mothers who saw him as the perfect match for their daughters.

Both fell silent for a moment, sharing a complicity in their struggles against societal expectations.

"Mika... Come with me," Jean suddenly proposes, extending his hand to her. Mikasa looks at him curiously, intrigued by the proposition. "Let's get out of here."

She hesitates for a moment, aware of the social implications of retiring alone with a gentleman. "Jean..."

"Come on, it's not like you have anything better to do."

She shakes her head, concerned about her reputation and what high society would say if they saw her alone with him. "It's improper. If we're discovered, my reputation will be completely ruined."

"If that happens, I won't let it affect your reputation. Trust me," Jean says with a passionate glint in his eyes.

After a few seconds of contemplation, Mikasa finally nods, letting herself be guided by her deep trust in him. She allows Jean to take her hand, feeling the comforting warmth of his touch. He leads her carefully and decisively, ensuring they are not seen as they slip away from the bustling ballroom.

The carriage glides smoothly through the paved streets, choosing less-traveled routes and shaded alleys, creating an intimate atmosphere between the two of them. Mikasa observes Jean, whose eyes shine with an enigmatic glimmer under the soft light inside the carriage. He smiles occasionally, trying to dispel any tension she might be feeling.

Jean keeps his promise to take her to a special place, and when they arrive, the scenery is enchanting. It's a serene stream, surrounded by trees and lush vegetation. The moon shines over the tranquil waters, creating silver glimmers that unfold across the surface. Both sit by the shore, Mikasa hugging her legs, and Jean remaining silently by her side as the night breeze envelops them both.

"I just don't want to marry a stranger," she whispers sincerely.

"What?" The uncertainty in his voice is palpable as he watches her attentively.

Mikasa sighs and searches for the right words to express what she feels. "I think that's why I've taken so long to consider marriage. I don't want to settle for a forced or meaningless union. I want something authentic. I am more than just a mere title or someone to be joined with for convenience. I want someone to see me for who I am, not just as a wife or a decorative figure in their life."

Mikasa's confession flows with sincerity and passion, like a confident whisper that rises in the nocturnal air. She glances briefly at Jean from the corner of her eye, and under the silvery light of the moon, she can appreciate his face framed by his incipient beard.

However, he doesn't return her gaze, and in a desperate impulse, Jean rushes to her side and takes her hand firmly in his. The warmth of their skin blends together. "Marry me," he blurts out, his words echoing his own desires and dreams.

Mikasa opens her eyes, surprised by his unexpected declaration. "What?" she responds, trying to process what she has just heard.

Jean searches for the right words to explain what he feels deep within his being. "We've known each other since we were little. We've been there for each other in the toughest moments. I've seen every part of you, Mika, your strengths, and your insecurities. And you've seen mine too. We know the best and worst of each other, and yet, we're still here. Together."

Jean continues to gaze at her with his deep hazel eyes, a look full of hope and longing. For some reason, his expression is desperate, as if he were struggling to convey a million things at once.

Mikasa's heart quickens. He is right; she knows him better than anyone else, and he knows her in a way no one else does. They have shared laughter, tears, and secrets. There is a connection between them. Moreover, Jean holds a position of great influence and responsibility in high society. She knows her aunt would be thrilled with this union, making it convenient in more than one sense.

"Jean, I..." she stammers, her thoughts in conflict. But before she can finish her sentence, he looks at her with such intensity that her words fade into the air.

"Marry me, Mikasa," he insists. "Let me be the person who sees you for who you are."

[bridgertonbabe]

Do each of the siblings know of each other's secret affairs in the meddling violet au? Do they help to cover for one another?

To an extent they're all sort of aware, knowing full well that it's highly unlikely that all eight of them are all simply abstaining from sexual activity.

Genuinely none of them would have thought that Francesca was carrying on with her late husband's cousin, and since she's the only one who's previously been married and isn't primarily hanging around Bridgerton House, she's been the most successful in managing to keep her affair behind closed doors.

Anthony twigged that Daphne was sleeping with the duke and stormed into Hastings House while she was there and demanded satisfaction from his old friend - only for Daphne to counteract that she would in turn demand satisfaction from Kate Sharma. The siblings glare at each other before Anthony backs down, saying there'll be no reason for a duel so long as Simon marries his sister. Daphne once again retaliates by saying she won't duel Kate as long as she marries Anthony. With eyes narrowed, neither one refusing to budge, Anthony turns on his heel and leaves. While not remotely happy that his sister is in a casual relationship with a nobleman, he knows he would be the biggest hypocrite if he didn't follow the same example he had tried to force Daphne to lead.

Meanwhile Eloise goes to Benedict to cover for her, asking him to make himself scarce one weekend a month from the family home and go along with the ploy that the pair of them have gone to My Cottage for a few days to escape the Ton. When Benedict enquires as to why he would need to provide her with an alibi, Eloise replies that she won't ask questions about him skulking around the servants quarters in the middle of the night if he doesn't ask questions about where she's disappearing to on a monthly basis. Never one to argue, Benedict simply shrugs, "touche" and the pair dutifully don't poke each other's noses in the other's business while also covering for one another.

Colin and Gregory actually bump into each other on the same landing one night just as they're both leaving the rooms of their lovers during a party being hosted at Aubrey Hall. They stare at one another, Colin shocked that his baby brother is leaving Lady Lucinda's bedroom, and Gregory incredulous that his brother is creeping out of Penelope Featherington's room. They simply exchange a silent nod of agreement to never speak on the matter and then they go their separate ways.

And as for Hyacinth, as the baby of the family truly none of them think she is capable of entering into a relationship of a sexual nature; but to Hyacinth she thinks it's perfectly acceptable, since all of her siblings have set the standard before her. Most nights she mounts pillows under her duvet to make it look as though she's in bed, climbs down the trellis, and while dressed in men's clothes dashes across Mayfair to Gareth's lodgings. Naturally Gareth voices his concerns for her safety and well-being but Hyacinth is an adrenaline junkie and gets a kick out of her risk-taking (also part of the reason why she isn't fussed about marrying Gareth). Funnily enough while none of her family are any of the wiser of her antics, the lovers of her siblings have all at some point spotted her hightailing it through the streets of London - and yet they all simply turn a blind eye to it, thinking to themselves that it's none of their business (plus they've each got enough of their own respective Bridgerton lover's shit to deal with to even venture any concern as to what Hyacinth's up to).

[pandemic-info]

In the second in a series of personal perspectives, the John Snow Project talks to [a successful, active early-thirties professional] based in California, who developed Long COVID after his third SARS-CoV-2 infection.

Perspective: I Did Everything Right and Things Still Went Wrong - John Snow Project

NOTE: “did everything right” in this headline is not in terms of what COVID-informed people know and do, but rather the average person who follows CDC & govt. guidelines: the “vax and relax” approach.

Excerpts:

—

Salvatore was Covid cautious and followed public health advice from the outset, including with regard to the vaccines.

“I completed my first vaccine series in May 2021 with two doses of Pfizer. Believing I was protected, I lived normally and was infected in September 2021. I had a known exposure and lost my sense of smell and taste. I was sick for about a day and went to bed early that night, but I didn’t even take time off work. I went back to my remote duties the next day and felt fine after a few days. I had my third Pfizer vaccine in March 2022, and was infected for a second time in September 2022 and for a third time in January 2023.”

Salvatore wasn’t initially concerned about his subsequent infections.

“I tested positive on a Cue at-home test for the second and third infections. Both infections were even milder than the first, maybe because I took Paxlovid. Within a week of the second infection, I developed heart palpitations, which were not initially linked to Long COVID. After the third infection, I began to develop many more Long COVID symptoms, and was diagnosed with the condition.”

Looking back, Salvatore had experienced persistent symptoms since his first infection, and developed new ones with each subsequent infection.

“I was aware of Long COVID since I had persistent loss of taste and smell going back to my first infection, but I never really considered it to be Long COVID, as it did not have a major effect on my life. The third infection is really what tipped me into Long COVID. Since then, I've had intermittent chest pain, heart palpitations, various neurological issues (face numbness, buzzing in the feet), joint pain, anxiety, issues with my vision, fatigue, complete alcohol and caffeine intolerance. I alternate between good weeks and bad weeks, with the bad weeks slowly becoming less severe. Some symptoms have totally resolved, while new ones occasionally emerge (the neurological symptoms did not arise until 3-4 months after my third infection). Although I have been able to keep my job and parent my daughter, this year has been one of the worst of my life. Where previously I was having fun on the weekends, for the last 8 months, I have basically spent my weekends laying on the couch and trying to recover. This year, I had two vacations planned, but cancelled them both because of how bad I've felt. My wife and I have delayed having another child because of my health. Even if I do recover fully, I have read so many stories of people relapsing back into Long COVID, that I am afraid I will never be fully healthy. For that reason, we may not have any more children because of Long COVID.”

Salvatore emailed Dr Bob Wachter, after the noted physician said booster vaccinations or infections will protect people from Long COVID. Dr Wachter posted on Twitter that boosters or infections “will protect you from severe infection & Long Covid – I give them 1 year of credit in this regard.”

Salvatore asked Dr Wachter to delete his erroneous tweet, saying, “Just reading it has caused me immense anguish knowing that someone might believe you and wind up in a similar situation [to me]. I hope you can appreciate how someone could reasonably hold you responsible for their Long COVID in the future.”

We asked Salvatore how the medical profession has responded to his Long COVID.

“Most doctors have believed me, but none have offered any substantive treatments. For example, my cardiologist at UCSF ended our last appointment by encouraging me to take CBD oil, telling me he hoped I would get better. The CBD oil seems to help a little bit, but I haven't gotten better despite his hopes. An ER doctor I saw after my face went numb was kind and caring, but described me and people like me as a "science experiment" that no one really knows how to help. Primary Care Providers have been hit or miss. Once I brought in a document with my list of symptoms to a new Primary Care Provider. He ignored it, then suggested the only explanation was that I was suffering from HIV. I have no risk factors for HIV. Once when I was feeling really bad, I visited urgent care. When I told the doctor that I had caught Covid three times, he implied that it was my fault, and told me not to catch Covid again, as if I hadn’t tried, or could somehow wave a magic wand to prevent it in the future.”

—

[ Comment: The PCP’s explanation is unsurprising. It’s been said repeatedly that Long COVID is similar to HIV and AIDS — the latter can also start as a “mild” or asymptomatic HIV infection and becomes much worse later on. LC affects the body / immune system and presents in some similar ways.

“If they are not treated, almost all people infected with HIV will develop AIDS (Stage 3). Some people develop AIDS within a few years of infection. Others remain completely healthy after 10 or even 20 years (called long-term nonprogressors).“ - Penn Medicine ]

—

CONTD.

Salvatore isn’t alone in his experiences of Long COVID but wishes more people would pay attention to the risks.

“My friends and family have been broadly supportive. It might be because I have several family members and friends who also have Long COVID, or who had it in the past and recovered. I don't think my experience has actually influenced anyone else's behavior, except my wife, who masks diligently because of me. When I talk about Long COVID, people who were already behaving in a COVID-cautious manner see it as validating, while those who weren't react with a sort of hopeless indifference. Long COVID isn’t rare. It affects many people who catch Covid even if they caught Covid before. Even if they are young and healthy. Even if they are vaccinated or not vaccinated.”

Salvatore has a message for people who don’t think about the risks of Long COVID.

“You probably won't develop Long COVID after your Covid infection, but there's a good chance that you might. The only way to avoid Long COVID is to avoid catching Covid. The vaccines and Paxlovid seem to help but aren't a panacea. If you get Long COVID, it will probably be somewhat mild, but it also could be so severe that it will derail your life entirely. Doctors will not be able to help you -- there are no cures or even approved treatments.”

Salvatore is concerned about the failure of governments to respond to the danger of Long COVID.

“Government officials that downplay or ignore the risk of Long COVID are directly responsible for the suffering of millions of people. Even if there's nothing to be done about it, at least telling people the truth would give them a chance to make a decision about the amount of risk they're willing to take. Be honest with the public about Long COVID: stop downplaying it.”

He is also concerned about the systemic risk Long COVID poses to social and economic wellbeing.

“Long COVID is the biggest, most mispriced risk facing the United States. Based on the latest studies, it's entirely possible that as many as one-third of Americans could be struggling with Long COVID in just a few years. Many of these people may be too sick to work, which poses a huge risk for the economy, and may already be manifesting in the form of the persistent labor shortage. As the number of people with Long COVID grows, health care and disability systems will come under even more strain. Long COVID should be treated as seriously as the initial COVID outbreak.”