#so in case anyone else feels this way: it's okay

[growth-opportunities]

casting a spell on the girl you wish had a bigger chest against her will

AN: Definitely longer than I intended (1700+ words) but sometimes I start writing and I can't stop! I hope you enjoy it!

Dana had been my friend for a long, long time, since we were too young to be stopped by the idea that boys and girls weren't allowed to be friends with each other. It made our bond special and it meant that we could really talk about anything with each other. There were no secrets between us, even when we started growing up and going through changes.

Well, some changes.

While I did okay, puberty was less kind to Dana. Her face changed and she got a little taller, but even before she hit five feet, her body decided that it was just done growing. Done growing upward, done growing out. She transitioned from a training bra to a 28AA, though one could hardly call that a transition. Her hips stayed narrow. I told her that her slender waist have her body a really feminine shape, but I could tell she didn't really believe me. She said she was fine with it, though. We'd talk about girls in our classes who had shot through the alphabet and turned into bombshells overnight and Dana insisted that she didn't want any part of that. Tits made people dumb, she said. Tits made people boring. As soon as you could rely on your figure, your personality shriveled up and withered away. She said she was far happier with her smaller body than she could ever be as some huge-boobed bimbo. It was pretty obvious that she was just trying to bury her jealousy in pride, especially when she said that she'd never sully her body by get implants or trying to grow even a single cup size bigger.

The fallout of her first girlfriend leaving her for a bustier woman was intense. Dana was practically catatonic for a week, and I did all I could to look after her. She barely ate. She barely slept. It was the most depressed I had ever seen her. One night, when she was delirious from lack of sleep, she grabbed me by the collar and told me that big tits made someone a bad person. Busty women were all homewreckers who deserved to be shunned from society or be forced into brothels where they can perform their singular service to society and they can't hurt anyone else. She finally fell asleep with her arms crossed over her chest.

In hindsight, casting a spell on her against her will to make her tits grow probably wasn't the best way to go about helping her. It was a bit of a panicked idea; I just couldn't bear the thought any longer of not being able to help. Nothing I did could drag her out of her slump, so I resorted to an admittedly extreme measure. There was a decent chance, anyway, that the magic would be bogus or be indistinguishable from natural growth, which made it easier to justify. Neither of those were the case.

It was interesting, at least, to watch her reaction to growing. The first few cup sizes, grown quickly over a day or two, were met with a trepidatious pride. In her mind, she could still consider them "small", even if they were magnitudes bigger than the next-to-nothing she had before. There was an adjustment period, getting used to having weight and wobble on her chest. I occasionally walked into the room just in time to see her yank her hands away from her tits, blush on her cheeks, embarrassed for having acknowledged them at all. She'd stammer out something along the lines of "Well, this is fine. They're still small. I'm not a big titted, girlfriend stealing whore. As long as I stay this big, I'll be fine."

She didn't, of course. Dana's growth continued unbothered by her own feelings about her tits. Once she passed the DD mark, she couldn't really excuse them as being small. The timid fondness that marked her early growth quickly turned to dismay and frustration. A glass was knocked off the table and shattered on the ground, a casualty of Dana's slow acclimation to her own size. She was so angry at herself and her tits in response, that she punched her boob hard enough to leave a bruise. "Fuck these things! I never wanted them! And now they're huge and in the way! Gross bags of fat, never fucking stop moving! The moment you stop growing, I'm chopping you off, you hear me!"

She wouldn't get the chance. By the time the bruise healed, she was pushing the limits of common bra sizes. She never gained an inch in height, still standing with the top of her head below my chin, and her hips stayed narrow as ever, but that slim waist of hers was rapidly being concealed behind her growing tits. She was growing too fast to even buy a bra to contain them and so she milled about my apartment in shirts that were rapidly becoming too tight, struggling to contain that much tit. I could hear the seams straining whenever Dana arched her back and lifting her arms above her head inevitably caused a bit of underboob to slip out.

As much as I tried to keep myself under control, it was about that time that I started staring. I couldn't help myself. These were the biggest tits I had ever seen in real life and rapidly encroaching on being the biggest tits I had seen ever. The first time she caught me staring, it caught her off-guard and I could tell she dismissed it as nothing. The second time, she got angry, punching my arm a bit harder than just "playfully", reminding me that she's a person and more than a pair of tits. The third time, though, I could tell something was different. She blushed and turned away, but her body betrayed her, two little indents forming on the front of her stretched shirt, her nipples stiffening beneath.

It was a few days later, when we were both watching TV (or, rather, we were on our phones on the couch while the TV was on) when Dana turned to me. By now, her breasts nearly rested in her lap, only an inch or two between her thighs and the undersides of her tits. "Do you, um..." She bit her lip. "Do you like big tits?" My face flushed and I stammered something completely incoherent, but she waved her hand in the air, her tits wobbling. "No, no, it's okay. You're fine, dude. I was just... You've been so nice to me through all of this. The break up first and then these." She gave the side of her tit a little slap, the impact rippling across her bust. "And I realized this morning that, um..." She bit her lip, her toes (not reaching the ground past the edge of the couch) curled and uncurled. Her nipples stiffened beneath her shirt, larger and more obvious than ever. "I realized that I'm bigger. Not just bigger than I was before, I mean, anyone would be bigger than I was- hell, you're bigger than I was-" She waved her hand and cleared her throat. "What I mean to say is that I'm bigger than her. The one that stole Nadia away from me. By, like, a lot." The more she talked, the wider her smile grew. She sat up straight, pushing her breasts forward slightly. "I think... I think it would help me get my confidence back if I, y'know, did something with them."

She shifted in her seat, turning her whole body towards me, climbing up onto her knees. There was nowhere for me to go except back into the corner of the couch where Dana quickly trapped me. There was nowhere I could go that wouldn't have me brushing against her bust. "I've never felt... attractive. Before. I told myself it wasn't important. The closest I ever got was the first date Nadia and I went on, but clearly that didn't pan out. But now I have these huge fucking boobs. And you can't stop looking at them. And I've seen you, er, react to them. A little tent in your pants." Now both of us were blushing. The tension in the air grew thicker by the second. "It wouldn't surprise me if you, ahem, jerked off to them. I've already done it myself a few times. They're... they're really sensitive." Her hands felt so small as they reached out and grabbed my wrist. I could barely believe what was happening as she dragged my hand up to her bust, my palm hovering an inch over her left tit. Warmth radiated out of them and into me. Her breathing became deep and slightly ragged. "If you wanted to, we could... I mean, it would be alright if... We'd still be friends either way, but..." Her confidence was wavering so I bridged that final gap, pushing my hand forward and taking her tit in my grip.

Instinct took over. I squeezed. Hard. The initial shock was quickly broken through by a wall of arousal slamming into Dana. She arched her back, pushing her tit into my hand. I don't even think I could describe how it felt to have that massive breast bulge around my fingers, spilling out through every gap, her nipple twitching and quivering against my palm. Even now, the memory of pulling her shirt up and exposing her massive tit, how it felt to have her little hands on the back of my head guiding my lips to her nipple, moaning in time with the rhythmic sucking and squeezing of her head-dwarfing tit, leaves me feeling a bit dazed.

Dana would grow a little bit larger before finally stopping, the spell wearing off. Nadia was quickly forgotten (though I had to talk Dana down from sending her a Big mistake. Huge. style text with a picture of her cleavage) and Dana's attitude on tits quickly normalized. Dana and I didn't end up together, though we did briefly have a friends-with-benefits relationship. Then she met Lillian and the two have been together ever since. I did, eventually, tell Dana about the spell and there was an awkward couple of days, but apparently Lillian helped her through it and she was able to, eventually, thank me for it. She said that I probably should have asked, but admitted that she probably would have said no and then she would have missed out on something wonderful. Lillian occasionally sends me pictures of Dana's bust as continuous thanks for my part in making them. She says it's the least she can do.

[scribescrawls]

"How much longer must we suffer now? (Reconsider) How much longer must we push through doubt? (We can get home) How much longer must we go about (Eurylochus) Our lives like this when people die like this?"

(The quotes in the sketch and above are from the song "Mutiny" from EPIC: The Musical by Jorge Rivera-Herrans)

I heard Starscream had another friend in a different continuity, what if TFOne Starscream also had his own Genvo too, but he died during those 50 cycles when they were being hunted down. I like to headcanon TFOne Starscream used to be a scientist before but decided to join the High Guard when the war with the Quintessons got more serious. Imagine Starscream decided to join the High Guard first and his friend decided to follow him when he heard Star was enlisting, but only one of them makes it back alive.

I think about how hopeless and desperate the High Guard's situation was throughout the 50 cycles with no end in sight as energon stopped flowing probably going hungry, they were being hunted down by Quintessons/Sentinel, their strongest leaders/comrades in arms were killed in front of them, betrayed, and trying to survive on the surface's dangerous landscape. I think as time passed many gave up hope or resigned themselves that they would never see home again giving into despair after cycles of suffering. Starscream probably feels the same way and feels pretty hopeless about their situation too. But as the leader Starscream probably knows he does not get the luxury of expressing those doubts without sending everyone else spiraling so even if he feels hopelessness about their situation he has to pretend he is okay and put on a front that he knows what he is doing and that they will succeed in taking down Sentinel one day to get them to survive another day.

There's a line in one of my favorite book series (Animorphs) where one of the characters reflects that "A leader has to give people hope. Even when he doesn't have much himself" and I think Starscream knew this. But it is a very lonely way of living being leader in such a hopeless situation as others can at least potentially express doubts about things or commiserate with each other, but as leader you cannot do that without affecting those under your command. I think some part of him subconsciously adopts the mindset that to an extent, on an emotional level, to be a leader is to be alone. And every decision you make holds the burden of potentially getting your troops/friends killed, but someone has to make the hard decisions even if some decisions are ruthless as you weigh the lives of those you may consider friends to keep as many people alive.

I was inspired to sketch this when I was listening to the song lol, I linked it down below in case anyone wants to hear it :D

[sophie-frm-mars]

I'm gonna plural discourse for a bit

There's a video that I saw that proposed changing the diagnosis of DID/OSDD to either Dissociative type PTSD or BPD with dissociative amnesia. I think this is not a wholly sensible suggestion and I get into why in the first half of The Mad & The Mentally Ill (text up on my patreon video out in a few months probably) but without getting into a deep critique of the diagnostic model itself I wanna talk about the merits and problems with that suggestion

So on the one hand, PTSD and BPD are already both dissociative in their lived experience. With PTSD you have both the dissociation of feeling like your trauma happened to someone else and the dissociation of feeling like you aren't where and when you really are when you're experiencing a flashback. BPD is dissociative in all its core mechanisms, and there is a sort of emotional "dissociative amnesia" at play when someone with BPD moves from one extreme emotional state to another, because they shift emotional reality so fast it can give them and people around them whiplash. This is a part of what gets people with BPD called manipulative - they change emotional states so fast people assume they must be faking how they're feeling to get what they want.

Therefore it makes some sense to some degree to say that someone whose dissociative identities are formed out of intense trauma has PTSD and that a system of alters that resemble different "personality states" of one core identity is BPD. Or at least it's a somewhat internally consistent model

On the other hand, the lived experience of plurality isn't like that and the best way to explain the difference is to say "it's like you are several different people". In other words I think that there's something potentially useful in this suggestion for helping plural people understand themselves but the suggestion itself is coming from a strictly singular perspective that wants to insist that the ontological nature of the self is singular and in reality the self is simply plural in all cases. "Singular self" people are radically different people who experience radically different thoughts and feelings at work, at home, with friends, with family, when stressed, when tired, when reminded of childhood. As Richard Schwartz says "parts work is for everyone" and I think this attempt to legislate plurality out of the DSM is philosophically an acknowledgement that in effect everyone is at least a little bit plural and an attempt to reconcile that by saying "therefore no one is" instead of opening up your conception of the self to a little more possibility than previously allowed.

Besides all of this, and now I am getting a bit into my critique of the diagnostic model, trauma works differently for different people, and for some people the minor traumas of simply being alive are enough to have profound psychological effects. In the plural community I've seen discussion of "endogenic systems", i.e systems where "they're just like that" rather than there being a specific root trauma. The trauma that forms something like BPD is everyday and commonplace - an environment of traumatic invalidation - just kinda being gaslit by life. Also I think there's a popular understanding that the way people heal from wounds is not their "natural" state and is therefore wrong, but you just have to accept that you are the shape you are and you have no choice but to love yourself. I guess after writing that sentence I should probably acknowledge that I'm plural and that I've known since I was a teenager but was too scared to tell anyone until about two years ago. Where was i. Okay you need to accept that every experience shapes and affects you some amount and lose the idea that trauma is a unique kind of experience which is bad and makes you somehow bad or less or deformed.

Just because someone is some kind of way because of experiences they had doesn't mean they need fixing. Everyone who will ever live is ways they are because of stuff that happened. My point is that I don't see a distinction between systems being "born this way" or formed through specific trauma as long as they are comfortable and happy existing as themselves in the world, and it's stupid and reductive to try and redefine plurality in singular terms when no one is truly singular anyway

[real-fire-emblem-takes]

Rating the Black Eagles based on how good I think they are at sex. (Lin Manuel Miranda voice) HYEAHHHH

Edelgard - this highly highly depends on how comfortable she is around you. If she doesn't know you too well, she'd probably only be capable of cold domming, and she'd be mediocre at best. If you guys are close, she can be everything you want her to be, but regardless of what she's doing you will be able to just FEEL how much this matters to her. 7/10

Hubert - if you're Edelgard, he's a tryhard (but like, he succeeds at it) and a solid 8/10. If you're anyone else, he's an acquired taste. He's just as scary and offputting in bed as he is everywhere else. But me personally, I'm into that, so that's still an 8/10.

Ferdinand - if you're a dom and he loves you... you are SO in luck dude!! He would do anything. With a smile on his face. If you're a sub he can probably manage as well but he'd be checking in A LOT completely unprompted. So much that it might be a mood killer for some people. But for other people it would do a lot. 7/10.

Dorothea - solid when it comes to technical skill. I don't see her leaning towards taking one role or the other. I think she's definitely pretty flexible when it comes to that sort of thing. If she really really cares about you I imagine it'd be similar to Edelgard. 8/10.

Petra - also solid when it comes to technical skill. Maybe some language confusion would make her not so good at dirty talk. 7/10, but if you don't mind awkward dirty talk probably an 8/10.

Bernadetta - dude. Dude this one is a MESS. What I can say to you about the Black Eagles is the ones that hit HIT and the ones that miss... well... okay, so I think she'd be fine if you guys are super close, and she can even work her way up to decent, but it takes a lot of practice. If you're patient, though, that's a solid 6/10. Otherwise like a 2/10.

Caspar - canonically does not know what sex is. When you said you wanted backshots he thought you meant Fortnite so when you got to his room and you started trying to turn him on instead of the Xbox he got confused. ???/10

Linhardt - saved the worst for last. He is NOT going to muster up the energy to do anything but lie there unless he really really cares and even then at best he's just going to tell you what to do. But in less of a hot power bottom way and more in a micromanaging little bitch way. You can probably get him to shut up pretty easily though so maybe that's not a huge deal. There is a very real risk of him falling asleep. 2/10 unless you're one of those types who can get off just from your partner expressing pleasure, in which case you better be prepared to bust your balls off keeping him awake enough to be vocal about it.

.

[adieutristana]

Yo.

Request here.

As to not overwhelm you with more than one character I pick Jinx from Arcane, season 1 or 2 (along with the acts) does not matter.

Moving on, the request I have is that I want a reader x Jinx just not romance but more of an... "introduction" if you will. The reader, because of the anomaly from their world/timeline have been sent to the current one in the series and with a pocket watch to represent time (more on that later) and dark clothes with a hood on all the time. What they do is just help Jinx avoid danger and not get severly hurt and always leave before they are noticed... except this time. When confronted they will babble on and on about how time is a killer and valuable and so taken for granted and that kind of insane talk about how meaningless and useless the world is, so when asked why they are doing what they're doing it's just for fun and nostalgia. Saying all that while staring at the pocket watch. What else is a person in despair thinking?

I do not know what more to add onto this other than that the other timeline is so obviously dead and that I suck at trying to tell how I see this since I forgot everything a moment ago.

In case you wonder why I am not anonymous it's because I do not care for that and would like to be pinged/tagged for when it's done. And since I have not specified a gender (since I see no point in why that matters, just me personally but I can see why it does to most) just leave it non-existent, up to the imagination for the one who reads. If that is not okay, do nb.

i’ll do my best, thank you for requesting! this one ended up pretty long LOL. being thrown into finals season but i only have 3 finals (for 6 classes) so we’ll see how often i can write…

summary: nb time traveler reader meeting jinx.

characters included: jinx

tags/warnings: introduction, more platonic, smoking + drinking mention, slightly on the angst side?

men dni.

you slowly blinked, regaining consciousness. the smell of smoke and liquor wafting around you, and the lights outside dim. you were laid flat on the ground with a throbbing in the back of your head. slowly propping yourself up on your elbows and taking in your surroundings, you groaned. you had done this several times before, but each time left you utterly exhausted. but it was all for the thrill, right? you stood up slowly, your hands on cold cobblestone as support.

you patted your thighs, trying to feel for your pocket watch- which was in its spot, unharmed. inhaling slowly, exhaling, you put your hood on. with your face obscured and your steps steady, you made your way through the streets of this... place. where exactly, you were unsure. you cautiously made your way past street vendors, a brothel, various lounges, and countless people sat on the streets. freezing. sickly. desperate for someone, anyone. you quietly stooped down to give a few of them the little pocket change you possessed.

you had kept your head down and hands in your pocket for the majority of your exploration, but you decided to look up for the first time. the air was unclear, you were unable to make up much of what was above you. however, you saw one silhouette. moving swiftly, darting back and forth with expertise.

a petite young woman presumably, with long braids following her. mesmerizing. although the people you had seen were already interesting characters from the looks of it, this girl was different. something about her was unique. you took out your pocket watch: 8:09 in the evening.

off in the distance stood a large building, with a glowing sign. you decided to make your way to it- the last drop, it was called. as you pushed the heavy doors open, you were immediately swept with the sound of countless voices. idle chatter, traders negotiating, couples, the like. you swung your leg over a wobbly wooden barstool, and silently waited for the bartender to notice your presence. when he finally turned to face you, you whispered,

"whatever will help me feel more awake."

the bartender replied with a grunt and a nod as he turned his back to you. shortly, he had a cup of some.. blue liquid, but you weren't in a place to ask questions. so you drank it in a few quick swigs, and threw the last of your change on the counter. turning on your heel and quickly making your way out.

the next day, you learned that the place you had found yourself in was called the undercity, or as its people liked to call it- zaun. it was a desperate and troubled city being ruthlessly exploited by the topside city- piltover. greed and abuse of power had ravaged the streets of the undercity.

and yet, you still didn't know the name of the girl you had observed the night prior. her form was fleeting, gone as soon as you noticed her. but something in your subconscious told you that she was different, somehow, from the rest of the zaunites you had observed. you had still yet to properly talk to any of the people around you, but what use was there? you were there to explore and push the boundaries of time, not waste your breath on conversation.

when you came upon a pit surrounded by railings, it took you, to say the least. this was unlike anything you had seen thus far- and looking into said pit was even more shocking. various large pipes and structures filled to the brim with a glowing magenta liquid. the liquid illuminated the structure, and you noticed various short figures- presumably children, surrounding it. how... strange. when you glanced back over your shoulder, though, you noticed something off in the distance. the girl.

she was seemingly in trouble, as various others on riding on glowing hoverboards swarmed around her. gunshot after gunshot after gunshot. you noticed explosions of pink and blue- the girl seemed to be able to hold her own in combat. but still, you felt something pulling you towards her. a nagging voice in the back of your head screaming at you to intervene.

before you could think, your feet were moving at record speed to jump structures and platforms. the world was moving so quickly, but you couldn't stop. the smell of gunpowder was overwhelming, your head hurt, and you were coughing. but still, you slid in front of the girl the moment you reached her to take a hit for her.

somehow this convinced the group to cease their attack. perhaps they thought you were working with her? regardless, the air clouded in hues of cotton candy allowed you to make a swift exit. you hid behind a nearby staircase to observe her next move. you hoped that she would cut her losses and leave.

the girl's fair complexion was littered with various colorful bruises and spatters of both dried and fresh blood. her large, magenta eyes seemed to glow in the night. her breath was coming out in pants, but she squeezed her eyes short and jumped over a railing. disappearing into a void.

and you repeated those stunts over, and over, and over again. disappearing at the last possible second without a trace, dark clothes and hood obscuring your figure. concealing any clue of your true identity.

until one fateful night, where the mysterious zaunite- jinx, you had learned, was cornered by enforcers. all armed and vicious. you elbowed, kicked, and stunned them. one by one, taking each enforcer down, but not without taking a few punches yourself. you clutched your chest and hung your head low as you limped to try and make an exit- and then you felt a hand yank your hood down. the other hand was firmly placed on your shoulder to turn you around and look directly at you. through you.

“who are you? what do you want from me?”

a high-pitched voice demanded. her brows were furrowed and her long, blue brows swayed behind her. she withdrew her hand from your shoulder.

“i asked you a question, fighter.”

jinx reminded. she was growing more and more impatient by the second. you slowly removed your hands from your pockets, raising them with open palms.

“i mean no harm, jinx.”

you stated. your eyes made direct contact with hers for a solid second, her expression of both confusion and disdain unwavering.

she scoffed, withdrawing a worn gun from a hilt and pointing it directly at your face.

“you expect me to believe that? do i look stupid?”

she tilted her head. but it was clear she wasn’t looking for a genuine answer.

“who are you working for? who sent you? why have you been showing up everywhere i am for weeks?”

you withdrew your pocket watch. the gentle tick-tock rhythm filled the air. jinx still had her gun pointed at you, but your demeanor remained unchanged. as your eyes lingered on the numbers behind the glass, you explained,

“time is a killer, jinx. it’s short. it’s bleak, and it’s hopeless. yet, people take time for granted again and again. why is that?”

your voice grew lower and more distant with each word. yet still, your gaze was focused on the hands of your pocket watch.

“the world- rather the universe is so fucking useless. i’ve gone through timeline after timeline, hopped through various worlds and met many people. people like you. people who stand out, and people whose differences lead to their downfall. will you be one of them, hm?”

the ticking stops. a moment in time that’s frozen. you glance up from your pocket watch, and notice jinx’s expression has softened into something more… concerned. her lips are pursed. her shoulders are tense and her gun is still pointed at you. but after another minute, staring directly at those bright pink eyes, she lowers the gun.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Hey cal! 💕💕💕

Maximum emojis for 🧜‍♂️ please!

I am in LOVE with this fic!!!

-❤️🪐

Hi Saturn!!!

Hell yeah! Sooooo happy you love it! 1k for 🧜‍♂️:

---

There’s something really sad about the way Eddie says that. Like he would want for his son to know this part of himself, but he’s been stifled. Buck has never met Eddie’s parents, but he finds he resents them already. 

“So, then, who knows?” Buck asks.

“Just the family who was around when I started transitioning,” Eddie says. “And… Well, a few guys back in El Paso. Station 25. But… I mean, that wasn’t my choice.”

Buck feels a little cold. “Not your choice?”

“Uh… I got hurt. Saving my captain. They found out in the hospital,” Eddie explains. 

“Is that why you left?” Buck asks.

“A good chunk of why,” Eddie admits. “They didn’t treat me the same after.”

“Despite saving your captain and getting a medal of valor?” Buck says. 

“Not enough, apparently,” Eddie mumbles. 

Buck makes a frustrated noise. That’s such bullshit. Eddie is an amazing firefighter. An amazing medic. Hell, an amazing person. Who the fuck cares what else he is? 

“You know we’d never do that to you, right?” Buck asks. “No one at the 118 would ever-”

“I’m not telling anyone else,” Eddie interrupts him. “And you can’t either, okay? Tell them about me. I’m serious.”

“I wouldn’t,” Buck promises. “I wouldn’t want you saying anything about me. I won’t say anything about you. I promise.”

“Thank you,” Eddie says. 

“Just… All I mean is, if you ever did want to tell them, you’d be safe,” Buck adds. 

Eddie sighs. “Alright, I’ll do it when you do it.”

Buck frowns. “Touche.”

🌊

If Eddie and Buck’s friendship had been fast-building before their misunderstanding at the beach, it grows at practically lightning speed afterwards. There is something different about having one person in the world you can talk to, after months, in Buck’s case, of not being able to talk to anyone at all. Much longer than that, in Eddie’s case. 

They just sort of all into more. Buck spends most of his free time with Eddie and Chris. He speaks freely around Eddie, and he thinks Eddie speaks freely around him, too. They get comfortable with each other. They might not be the same, but they both know what it is to hide. And they both seem to take solace in having someone they don’t have to hide from. 

Of course, their newly strengthened friendship is not without its moments. From both of them. Neither of them is fully educated on the other’s stuff and doing their best - not that Eddie could be, when Buck doesn’t even know what’s going on half the time. 

For example, they have a call helping a man bit by a shark in transit to return that shark to the ocean. Then, they return the shark to the ocean. But the closer they get, the more Eddie watches Buck. He looks nervous. A little pale. As if the slightest splash will turn him, in front of everyone. And, to be fair, a handful of months ago? It might have. But Buck is cool now. Or, cooler. 

“I’ve got it under control,” he whispers to Eddie. He dips his hand down in the water before they leave, just to prove a point. 

Eddie takes a deep breath and nods. 

“Just don’t want anyone finding out about you if it’s not your choice,” he whispers back. “Is it hard to resist?”

“Getting easier,” Buck says. “Would be harder if I was exhausted.”

“Okay,” Eddie says, relieved. “Okay, I’ll keep that in mind.”

Because they’re looking out for each other now. In more ways they were when they were just friendly coworkers. 

A week or so later, they take a call in the rain. It’s late at night and they’re all tired after a never ending string of calls. Eddie watches the water come down and shoot Buck that same nervous look. 

“Does rain…” Eddie asks, trailing off in case they’re overheard.

“No,” Buck says. “Just ocean.”

“Just ocean, what?” Chim asks, appearing behind them.

“Uh… Dries out my skin,” Buck fumbles.

“Oh, yeah. That makes sense,” Chim says, before he keeps on walking towards Hen.

“Fuck, sorry,” Eddie whispers. 

Buck shrugs. “He bought it.”

That’s not to say it’s just Eddie. Just that, given the unknown nature of Buck’s being, Eddie has more to worry about, Buck thinks. Buck has his moments, too, though. 

They’re in West Hollywood one night, putting out a small fire in a gay club. Eddie looks sort of badass, rescuing a bartender who was trapped behind the bar. 

“Get it, girl, damn!” A patron onlooker calls when Eddie helps the man out of the club. His friend gives a little whistle. 

Buck feels like a rabid dog, ready to bite. Sure, yes. Eddie looks pretty good doing the job. But to call out to him? To use girl? What the fuck?

“It’s fine,” Eddie says after. “That's not what they meant and you know it.”

“No, but they shouldn’t be-”

“Buck, come on. If you make a big deal about it, around here, people will figure out why. Just… Drop it, okay?”

So he does. Because obviously he’s always going to take Eddie’s lead here. The same way he can see Eddie trying to follow his. And as time keeps moving forward, and Buck becomes more and more entwined in Eddie and Christopher’s lives, it becomes more and more natural. 

🌊

It’s May when Eddie helps Buck find a new apartment. He’s been living in Abby’s for over a year and it’s sort of getting embarrassing. 

“I still can’t believe you never dated this woman, but lived in her home for this long,” Eddie says as they look at listings in the living room. 

Buck chuckles. “Um, can’t exactly date anyone right now. Dating, historically, leads to sex.”

“Ah, but gills,” Eddie says.

“Gills, exactly. And sometimes scales.”

“But you wanted to date her?” Eddie asks.

“I did,” Buck admits. “I wonder if she’d have stayed if we did.”

Probably not, he thinks. No one really ever lasts that long.

[smoov-criminal]

i reblogged a post the other day about not getting out much which made me think about this, so let's also give a shout-out to folks who can't do much of anything even at home. those who spend most of or all of the day in bed or on the couch, those who can't cook or clean or bathe consistently if at all, who don't have the energy or ability to engage in hobbies, for those that feel like boring people because they don't or can't do much. we deserve love even if we're boring or not productive

[cathodic-clairvoyant]

Oh hi there transfem discussing her experience in the trans community i just had a quick question about your post

What does tme mean?

Oh okay i see i understand, thank you.

What does transmisogyny mean?

Ah I see, I get it.

What's a trans woman?

Oof scary. One last question.

What's a woman?

Thank you for being my own personal google (not like you had anything better to do right?) and derailing the point of your post for my own personal education. I will now add nothing of value to this post in return. Bye bye!

[floralovebot]

i kinda really hate it when people say the later seasons feminized musa cause like... they did... but they also didn't? like yes musa does wear outfits that can be seen as more masculine and she doesn't "act" super feminine, at least not in the ways that the other winx (minus tecna) do. but also... her wearing loose jeans isn't like. Not feminine. her having a more laidback personality isn't Not feminine. her not caring about fashion or makeup to the levels that the other winx do (or at all) isn't Not feminine.

i mean if we're talking about fashion specifically, her first transformation literally has her in a skirt and thigh high boots. her first formal outfit may have been pants but the entire look together is very *feminine*. in the same first season she's seen in another dance outfit that includes a longer skirt! not to mention the s2 club dress... the eraklyon formal dress... the s2 formal dress... her enchantix... hell even her swimsuit which was a literal bikini

like... musa was never Not feminine (that was really more tecna's thing and even then she wasn't against it either). there's nothing wrong with seeing musa as more of a tomboy or wanting her to be less traditionally feminine than the other girls, but acting like she was ever against femininity goes against so much of what the show was about and what the show did. i get that the later seasons have horrible designs (they do!!) but them adding more pink and dressing her up in dresses and skirts constantly was something that happened to all of them, not just musa. (you could literally use the same arguments to say that bloom was a tomboy who was horribly feminized by the evil pink corporations. like dude)

i don't want anyone to think i'm like headcanon policing here but if you genuinely think they Feminized her, why do you think she wasn't feminine before? why do you think she would be against femininity? why do you assign femininity to things like clothing and personalities? why do you think musa's trouble with finding herself and chasing her dreams also translates to being against femininity? why do you think musa, who has always been shown to be comfortable with feminine wear, is actually super against it, wouldn't be comfortable with it, and was outright forced to do it. why do you take this character, who has always been very assured in her own style and comfort and knows what she's comfortable with and what she isn't, and just go "no she hates being feminine".

all of the winx girls are so healthy when it comes to individual style and knowing what they're comfy with and not and that's so important for young girls to see!! there is 100% a place for women who don't enjoy dressing or "acting" feminine, but winx was all about uplifting femininity and making sure young girls were proud to be girls and didn't shy away from feminine things because it's "too girly". and if you're really looking for that character, tecna is the Best example of one who wasn't overly feminine and tended to dress in that more "masculine" way (and who also got Very Badly feminized by the later seasons). but i just don't think musa is that No Femininity Allowed tomboy that a lot of people think she is.

[cherryview]

!!!!

[unproduciblesmackdown]

another specific scenario nice & simple like winston "isn't allowed to have a 'correct' cishet(tm) gender n sexuality anyways" "keeps immediately latching on to the nonbinariest people around him" billions goes yolo mode after going [just endlessly weather it at the sunk cost factory] firmly established itself as a shitshow and decides like i'm gonna hook up with a guy fr (has not already happened, in this specific scenario) and then does so, congrats to him. however, with all the precedent in the world, it's like here's your big anxiety about any autodidactic sex ed beforehand. here's your big anxiety about just general surveillance & malicious handling of it afterwards. no way anyone could have completely founded hangups about everything even further just indefinitely now. bonus points though he still goes to math meetup has real math friends over there who have Really provided the [yeah it's not actually a popularity contest here] arena & he's known them for years & let's say has at least One amicable person who talks with him out of it, maybe even two. congrats to him canonly for getting out of there, sure hurt him as much as they possibly could on his way out though, was legitimately the goal

[charminglyantiquated]

Hi, guys. I try to keep my personal life off of here for the most part, but my partner and I have experienced a pretty bad blow, and I don't know what else to do. On Friday a private yacht backed into our sailboat, the Nautilus, with enough force to move the concrete dock we were tied to. The main mast was snapped in half, and we're still waiting to learn how bad the damage to the hull is.

We've worked on the Nautilus for years now as her crew, and this spring we put every cent we've been able to save over the last decade into buying her. All of our time has gone into sailing and maintaining her, and running our charter business - and now she's out of commission for the foreseeable future. Insurance will hopefully help, but we don't know anything concrete yet. The best case scenario is that with 8-9 months of work, we can have Nautilus sailing again by next summer - but in the meantime we still have the vessel's loan payments, and our own living expenses, and no source of income, let alone the repairs we'll need to begin sooner rather than later if we can hope to get her seaworthy by next summer.

I know things are hard for everyone right now, and I know we are incredibly lucky no one was hurt. One way or another Crow and I will get through this, and be okay, so please don't feel guilty for passing this by. But if you are inclined to help us get through the next few months, by donating or by sharing our fundraiser, I would be more grateful than I can express. I will be posting updates, photos, etc. on our Instagram page at nautilusmaine as we learn more, if anyone would like to follow along with what is hopefully the journey to rebuild her.

[lovemomhatepolice]

what brought back that smile? - lando norris

navigation taglist requests

pairing: lando norris x fem! reader

warnings: kinda established relationship, fresh relationship, curious muppets!, English is my second language!

type: fluff, pure fluff

word count: 3,5k

summary: 5 times when someone asked the reason for Lando's sudden surge of happiness, but he preferred to keep his sweet secrets to himself

more content: f1 masterlist, lando norris masterlist, birthday one-shot

Since Lando Norris broke up with his then-girlfriend Luishina in 2022, no one has seen him this happy since. Of course, there have been moments where Lando walked around smiling - for example, when he won his first race in Miami or partying with friends in Ibiza. On more than one occasion, fans saw him joking and laughing until his stomach hurt with other drivers, but further down the line, everyone knew that the old Lando was gone. The one who laughed through love. The one foolishly in love, who proved it at every turn. Since his former relationship, Lando hasn't bonded with anyone - there were only rumors of fleeting romances or PR relationships. Until recently. In fact, no one knows when it took place. And since when Lando felt like a foolishly infatuated boy again.

THE FIRST TIME: Oscar Piastri When Oscar noticed changes in Lando's behavior, it was not much before the Japanese race. Or at least it wasn't so visible before. Norris was walking around smiling from ear to ear, constantly forgetting what he should do or who he should talk to about the changes in the car. No one paid much attention to it, and Oscar initially tried to ignore it as well, and winning in Miami a month later further eclipsed the spy's thoughts. After all, Lando had won his first race after so long in Formula One and so many times standing on the podium. The Mclaren drivers weren't the best of friends on the grid, but Oscar knew it wasn't because of winning the race. Or at least not just because of that.

Oscar was curious, even if he said very little about his life, the Lando case drilled him from the bottom up. And it started off small.

One morning 2 weeks after the Miami race, Lando showed up for a meeting with a goofy smile on his face. His attention was focused on everything during the strategy discussion, his mind was clearly elsewhere.

“Are you okay?” asked Oscar, poking his teammate under the table. As if awakened from his trance, Lando stopped tapping his fingers against his thigh and turned his head toward the Australian, smiling that silly grin again. “Yeah, all good, mate. “ he asked, tilting his head to the side. Oh, how foolishly charmed he was. “Why do you ask?”

Oscar shrugged. “I dunno. You just seem... happier these days. What brought back that smile?”

The question hung in the air for a long moment. Lando hung his head and laughed quietly under his breath, as if he was thinking whether he wanted to say it or rather not. And that was the option he chose, keeping his new infatuation to himself.

“Well, you know, buddy, I won a race recently. A chance to celebrate, huh?”

Oscar laughed, but couldn't shake the feeling that there was something else behind that smile, and that Lando was lying right in his eyes. Something - or someone - had brought back that trademark Lando smile. But Oscar decided to let it go for now.

Meanwhile, Lando was smiling to himself. Was it really that noticeable? Could everyone now know his sweet secret?

Such questions were cluttering his mind, but he tried not to worry about them. They were quickly superseded by thoughts of [Y.N]. It was wild how fast she had slipped into his life. What had started as a chance meeting turned into hours of effortless conversation, late-night phone calls, and a connection that had somehow brought him back to life. He hadn't felt this way since…. well, he couldn't remember the last time. And that was the point of it all.

MUPPETS: Carlos Sainz Jr Carlos had known Lando since 2019, so this year was their 5th anniversary of knowing each other. From the very beginning, the men, despite the age difference, got along great. And they soon became friends, too, supporting each other in worse and better moments. You could say they knew each other like the back of their hand, so while Lando was drifting away more and more each possible time during their conversations, the Spaniard had no more questions or thoughts. He was well aware that his younger friend's head was occupied by not something, but someone.

The sun beat down on the lush green of the golf course, the Spanish heat was unrelenting even in the early hours of the day. Carlos set up for his shot, squinting against the blinding glare, while Lando stood to the side, waiting his turn. It was a rare moment of calm before the chaos of the Spanish Grand Prix weekend, and Carlos was glad to be spending it with his best friend.

Until he saw Lando miss every time, which hadn't happened all that often before. Well, okay, Lando was worse than Carlos at golf, but to that extent?

And those constant glances at the phone, which he was so reluctant to leave in the golf cart.

“Ay, muppet. What the hell is wrong with you?” rang out Carlos' voice as he hit the ball.

Of course it flew cleanly where it was supposed to fly. But what's the pleasure of playing as your friend drills a hole in the grass with his club, his other hand constantly checking his phone screen?

"Huh?" Lando snapped out of his trance. This had been happening to him more and more often lately, nay, it had been happening to him for more than three months now.

“You’ve been smiling like an idiot all day,” Carlos teased, though his tone was softer, more curious than mocking. “Actually, you’ve been like this for weeks like not months now. So, tell me—who is she?”

Lando’s cheeks flushed pink, and he quickly turned his attention to the golf ball at his feet, fiddling with his club. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, but there was a grin he couldn’t quite suppress. And in fact, I don't think he wanted to get rid of it.

Carlos laughed, poking Lando playfully on the shoulder. “Come on, cabrón. I know you too well and it's been a long time since you've been this happy. So who's the lucky girl? Who brought back that smile?”

Lando sighed under his breath - he knew he could trust Carlos, he was his best friend. He just liked the fact that he and [Y.N] were in a closed bubble of happiness that they had made for themselves in three months. Of course it was still fresh and nothing was certain yet, but Lando gave in. To whom as to whom, but to Carlos he already had to tell. It was drilling him from the inside.

“It's … nothing serious,” Lando finally said, shrugging his shoulders as if it was no big deal. “It's just… I'm meeting someone. I'm trying to keep it discreet.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Dude, I've known you long enough to know when you're serious about someone,” he said, and his voice became softer. “And if she makes you smile like that, I'd say it's more than a casual.”

Lando bit his lip, trying to hide the smile that threatened to break through. The truth was that [Y.N] had quickly become the best part of his days.

“Maybe,” he admitted, finally meeting Carlos' gaze. “But for now it's just … between us, sure?

Carlos clapped Lando on the back, a broad grin on his face. “I’m happy for you, hermano. And don’t worry—I won’t tell anyone. But I have to say, it’s good to see you like this again.”

They both laughed and Lando already knew he was lost. Together, with Carlos, were like the biggest gossips, so he quickly unlocked his phone, even jumping up and down with happiness, wanting to show Carlos some pictures of them together. What luck befell him when he found out that [Y.N] also loves to take pictures.

Carlos leaned closer, curious. Lando pulled out a photo from a few weeks ago - from his once-in-a-lifetime date with [Y.N]. They were sitting on a blanket in a meadow somewhere by the water, the golden sunset casting a warm glow over them. The girl's head was tilted toward him and resting on his shoulder, her eyes were crinkling with laughter, and Lando looked happier than Carlos had seen him in a long time. His hand was on the girl's shoulders, visibly embracing her closer to him.

“I want her to be the one, you know?” muttered Lando, smiling even wider when he saw the notification from her.

LUCKY CHARM: Lando's parents Lando was able to hide his fresh relationship from his friends, from his fans and from the rest of the world. But he definitely couldn't hide it from his parents and siblings. Not even a month of knowing [Y.N] had passed when he vividly talked about how much he had fallen in love and how he hoped she was the one and last woman in his life. His loved ones were damn happy to finally see the most sincere smile of his entire life on the face of this little Lando Norris.

The air around Silverstone was charged with electricity, and the energy of the home crowd gave Lando joy like no other race on the calendar. Walking through the bustling paddock, he felt lighter than he had in years. It wasn't just the thrill of racing on his own track - it was the realization that somewhere among the sea of faces there was [Y.N], watching him.

Fortunately, he managed to smuggle her into a private hospitality suite, away from prying cameras, journalists and fans. They had been seeing each other for almost four months, in truth they were not a couple, but everything was going for it. Lando wasn't the only one who was foolishly infatuated with the relationship; the girl, like him, walked around with her head in the clouds, as her university colleagues or friends seemed to notice more than once. But in her case it was easier to hide, after all, she didn't have a million eyes on her like Lando did.

When Lando entered his private area in the Mclaren garage, he immediately noticed his parents, sisters and brother, who were smiling at him from ear to ear. The entire Norris family had a close relationship with each other, so of course everyone knew about Lando's new sweetheart, whom he had been dating with for four months.

“And there's our smiling boy!” laughed Lando's mother, hugging her son tightly. The driver laughed under his breath, hugging his family one by one, fortunately in a place where the eyes of others did not reach and they could have a moment of peace. “I'm glad you're all here,” Lando said, stroking his younger sister Flo's hair.

“How could we not be here?” asked Oliver, Lando's brother, laughing under his breath.

The atmosphere was great, however, everyone knew this question would come sooner than perhaps it should?

“Well, you know what, tell us where she is,” said Lando's dad, poking him lightly on the shoulder. “You're laughing so hard, I won't believe she's not here.”

“Yes! Show us finally what brought back that smile,” said his mom, echoing her husband.

Lando felt his face heat up, but he couldn’t keep the grin from spreading. “You two don’t miss a thing, do you?” he said, shaking his head.

“We just want to meet her,” his mum said softly, eyes twinkling with warmth. “We’ve heard so much about her, and if she’s the reason our son’s been so happy lately, we’d love to say hello.”

After a moment's thought, Lando nodded. “All right. I'll bring her - but behave,” he said with nervous but excited energy.

Lando slipped stealthily out of the garage and headed for his room, which only he and a few Mclaren people had access to. Although it was a rather hidden place, [Y.N] did not complain. She could wait out the time until the race in peace, just as she could go out to Mclaren's garage and watch it there. Lando made her as comfortable as possible.

When the girl saw him, she raised her eyes and smiled warmly in his direction. “Are you okay?” she asked.

“Yes, everything is fine,” he assured her, taking her hand in his. At the same time, he forced her to get up from the soft couch. “But… there is someone who wants to meet you. My family is even dying to meet the woman of my heart.”

The girl took a deep breath and smiled. “I'd love to meet them.”

Holding hands, they returned to the hospitality. When they went inside, Lando's mother sighed quietly and immediately crossed the room to hug [Y.N]. “Oh, how nice to finally meet you,” she said, and her voice was filled with sincere warmth.

“She's beautiful,” Cisca whispered, looking at Lando. The boy only whispered a quiet “I know” and laughed under his breath.

Immediately the whole family greeted the girl, hugging her tightly and bestowing kind words on her, including telling her how happy they were that she was making Lando so happy again. And everything was somehow better. His parents and siblings were talking to the girl he'd had in his heart for several months, and everything was going smoothly. Lando was just standing off to the side, keeping his hand on her back and giving her a little kiss to make her feel better. But he was probably the most stressed one there.

Lando checked his watch, feeling the familiar pre-start jitters begin to overwhelm him. But today he felt a little better than usual.

“I have to go now,” he said reluctantly, turning to face the girl. His parents moved away to give them a moment of privacy.

“You can do it, you're amazing on the track,” she purred, placing her hands on his shoulders and gently correcting his suit.

Lando merely smiled in her direction and without hesitation placed his hand on her cheek and leaned in, pressing their lips together in a quick but tender kiss. This was not how they had imagined their first kiss, but in that moment it was their best memory and the time this kiss could have happened. Lando pulled away from [Y.N], their eyes met and they both smiled at each other, giggling under their breath.

Lando checked his watch, feeling the familiar pre-race jitters starting to creep in.

“I’ve got to go,” he said reluctantly, turning to her. His parents stepped back to give them a moment of privacy.

“Good luck out there,” she whispered, her eyes shining with pride. “You’re going to do amazing.”

Lando smiled, but there was a flicker of nerves in his eyes. “I hope so. This one’s important,” he said softly.

[Y.N] reached up, cupping his cheek with her hand. “You’ve got this, Lando. I believe in you.”

Without thinking, Lando leaned in, pressing his lips to hers in a swift, impulsive kiss. It wasn’t planned, but in that moment, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. He pulled back, their eyes locking, and they both smiled.

“For good luck,” he whispered, his voice low enough that only she could hear.

And even if he came in third place after the race, it didn't bother him much. He won something better and it was an amazing woman.

HI IBIZA: Max Fewtrell stream Max knew Lando since they were kids. Both could not imagine life without the other person, they were inseparable. Even if it didn't work out for them to be Formula One drivers by their side, it didn't change anything. They were always side by side, and as soon as Max heard about Lando's new crush, he knew this was the one. Norris had never talked so seriously and eagerly about any girl before. And Max liked to tease him about it. But at the same time, he was damn happy.

The warm glow of sunset in Ibiza paints everything with a golden sheen. Lando Norris, Max Fewtrell and their group of friends held a casual live stream at their bungalow, which they rented for the whole group of friends. This stream was definitely different from their typical ones, where they played games on two different sides of the screen, but that was good too.

Everyone was more muted than at times when they were playing and shouting at each other. However, the biggest difference could be felt in Lando. He was more subdued, gently but sincerely smiling, and his eyes shone with such happiness that you could envy him.

The stream had been going on for about an hour, and the fans didn't run out of questions. They were inundated with the same questions as always, but today they had more opportunity to answer them because they weren't stressed by the background game. Lando kept getting questions about the Championship, the races, the competition and some side silliness. Until Max caught one significant comment among thousands of others. And of course he had to ask them.

Fan comment: "Lando, what brought back that smile? It's been a long time since we've seen you so happy, and of course that's great, but what's your secret?"

Max looks at Lando with a smile and winks. "Good question," he says, leaning back in his chair. "So, man, what's been making you so happy lately?"

"Oh, you know. Life has been better lately. Beautiful weather, sunshine, we have a beach house. The break from racing is good for me too, my head isn't as busy," Lando replied, playing with his hair and smiling under his breath.

Oh how he lied, how he lied to keep his bubble of happiness calm even longer.

"Really? Gee, I guess I agree with that comment, you're somehow happier lately," said Max, glancing at Lando with a teasing look. He remembered well how Lando had talked down his relationship on the stream, but he wasn't going to do the same to him. "Or maybe you've found a hobby other than Formula One?"

"Maybe," he laughed lightly under his breath, feeling the warmth inside his body. "I guess I just got old and I'm not that rebellious 20-year-old anymore "

"Oh, it's definitely old age, you name it" Max laughed and went back to looking for interesting comments, leaving the matter of Lando's happiness. He wanted his friend to still have peace from prying eyes.

After the stream was over, everyone went their separate ways. Some decided to have a bonfire, but Lando felt he needed the solitude. He walked out to the beach, which they had right outside the gate of their cottage, and felt the cooler evening wind brush his face. He smiled under his breath when he saw [Y.N] by the shore. It wasn't a smile that the cameras could see; he reserved this one for her alone.

The girl was wearing a white loose dress that swayed gently in the wind, and her hair was tousled by the wind. It wasn't a moment before she heard him and gently turned toward him, giving him a beautiful smile. "Have you finished the stream yet?"

"It's been a while now," Lando stepped closer, feeling the sand under his feet surround him pleasantly. "I had to get away from the chaos. And the fans are getting curious, they asked what secret I have"

Girl raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Secret? What secret?"

Lando smiles mischievously and walks closer. "That I'm the happiest I've been in years." - he says in a quiet but sincere voice.

[Y.N] smiles, her eyes sparkling in the moonlight. Without another word, she steps into his arms, and Lando doesn't hesitate to wrap his arms around her, pulling her close. They stand there for a moment, just the two of them, the sound of the waves crashing in the background. Lando takes a deep breath and places a kiss on her hair, pulling her even closer to him. It was the peace he had needed for a long time

FIRST CHRISMTAS: [Y.N] Lando and [Y.N] had been together for almost half a year. Their lives were filled with happiness that neither of them had ever experienced before. From the first day, they understood each other like two peas in a pod, and that's how it stayed. That's why she was surprised by how happy Lando was.

The couple in love are together in the kitchen, with the countertop in front of them strewn with flour and other ingredients for making gingerbread cookies. [Y.N] is wearing one of Lando's voluminous sweaters and humming a Christmas carol, pacing next to the countertop. Lando, on the other hand, dressed in his loose Mclaren T-shirt and Christmas pajama pants, is trying to roll out the dough, but it's not going well. His hands are covered in flour and the dough keeps sticking to the rolling pin. Well, it's easier to say that his whole body is covered in flour.

"Do you need help, chef?" - asks [Y.N], leaning against the countertop and looking at him with an amused smile.

Lando raises his gaze, feigning impatience. "It's harder than it looks, sure?" - He laughs, combing his flour-dusted hair with his hand. "I thought baking was supposed to be easy."

"It's easy, you just have some manual problems," the girl laughs and moves to his side, gently taking the rolling pin from his hands. "Here, let me," she says, guiding him to the side. Their fingers brush as she takes over, a soft, tender moment.

"Sure, my baking queen," the boy laughs, looking at her with adoration.

"You could do the icing." the girl says, pointing to the already made gingerbread cookies.

Lando's eyes brighten, his smile widening. "Icing, huh? That's sounds better." He grabs a piping bag and starts filling it, but as he attempts to pipe a simple design, it all goes horribly wrong.

“Lando!” she laughs, her eyes crinkling with amusement. The icing has spilled everywhere.

He looks down at his hands, dripping with icing. “Well, that’s not what I had in mind…” He shrugs sheepishly.

“You’re adorable when you try, you know that?” She leans in and wipes a bit of icing from his cheek, her thumb brushing against his skin.

“And you’re just adorable,” he says, moving closer to her.

Lando’s hands quickly find their place on her waist, and his face is twisted into a genuine big smile. They both giggle, putting the matter of the cookies aside.

“What brought that smile again, huh?” the girl asks, touching his lips, which is also dirty with icing.

“You,” he says simply, and his voice carries a quiet sincerity that makes her heart skip a beat. "It was always you"

For a moment, they both stand in silence, the hum of the Christmas music in the background, the quiet crackling of the small fire in the corner of the livingroom adding to the coziness of the apartment. It’s a peaceful stillness, the kind that only exists between two people who’ve found something real.

A/N: i know it's no nut november and this should be smut but i swear when i had a vision i had to write this. i hope you like it because i won't lie, i fucking love it!

please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

[foxy-eva]

Send Nudes

Summary: Chaos ensues after you accidentally send Spencer a nude pic

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader 

Category: Smut

Content Warnings: (18+, minors DNI) dub-con (Spencer receives an unsolicited nude pic), embarrassment, awkwardness, tension, heavy kissing, male masturbation, oral (fem receiving), handjob, protected penetrative sex

Author's Note: I wrote this for @imagining-in-the-margins Wrong Recipient Challenge!

Word count: 3.2k

Masterlist

Panic. Embarrassment. Shame. 

It was hard to describe what you felt when you stared at your phone, realizing that you had just sent Spencer Reid a nude picture of yourself. 

It was a mistake, of course – right when you wanted to send him a screenshot of an article, you stumbled over the mess in your apartment and selected the wrong picture. Frozen in place, you watched in horror as the read receipt showed up instantly. 

Spencer had just seen your naked body light up on the screen of his phone. 

A picture he never asked for and probably didn't want to see. It wasn’t a bad photo, some might even call it aesthetically pleasing. But you had never intended for anyone else to see it. It was just a way for you to make yourself feel good about your body. 

You contemplated your options. Burning your phone, moving across the country and changing your identity sounded intriguing but difficult to arrange. Instead you decided to text Spencer, hoping that soon you’d both be able to laugh about the embarrassing thing you just did. 

“I am so sorry about that. I really didn't mean to send that! Can you please delete the pic and forget about it?” 

You didn't get a response. Spencer was never great at texting but you had really hoped to hear back from him. It was hard to tell if he felt just as embarrassed or maybe even offended – you certainly wouldn't want to receive unsolicited nude pics either. 

You had barely gotten any sleep when you walked into work the next morning. Worst case scenarios had plagued your mind all night – from another painful workplace sexual harassment seminar to maybe even losing your job over your mishap – you had no idea what would expect you today. 

Everything seemed normal when you got to your desk, except for the fact that your favorite coworker didn't even look at you when you walked by him. Spencer usually liked sitting beside you in the conference room and also on the jet, but he did neither of those things that day. 

“Wow you really must have pissed Reid off, huh?” Luke whispered when he sat down beside you on the plane. 

“Did he say anything to you?” you wanted to know. 

“No, he didn't. What did you do? Spill coffee over his favorite chess board?” he teased. 

“Oh it’s so much worse than that,” you whined while heat rushed to your face. 

Emily decided to discuss the case before Luke could ask more questions. Spencer avoided you for the next couple of hours until you decided you both had suffered enough. 

A quiet moment in the coffee kitchen of the police precinct seemed good enough to approach him.

“Hey Spencer,” you said and noticed how he almost jumped at the sound of your voice. 

“H…hi,” he mumbled, his eyes fixated on the floor.

Stepping closer, he finally looked at you for the first time that day. The rosy shade spreading over his cheeks was impossible to ignore. 

“I’m very sorry about the… you know. I didn't mean to send it but I understand if you feel offended by it,” you sincerely told him. 

“I’m not… offended.”

You took a deep breath before you continued talking, “All I want to say is… if you want to discuss this incident with Emily or even HR, I would understand. I never wanted to make you uncomfortable in any way.” 

“No, it’s okay, really,” he lied. “We can just forget about it.” 

Spencer Reid was good at many things. Lying, however, definitely wasn’t his strong suit. You decided to drop the subject for now, aware that talking more about it would probably not make him less uncomfortable. 

The tension between you two was palpable for the rest of the workday. When you stepped into your hotel room that night, you were relieved to finally have a couple of walls between the two of you. 

If this thing didn't resolve soon, you’d have to talk to Emily about it eventually. But there was still hope that it wouldn't come to that. The embarrassment about your mishap was already bad enough as is.

The three knocks on your hotel door startled you. With your heart beating uncomfortably fast, you walked over to the door to find Spencer on the other side. 

He walked into your room without saying a word. Then he began slowly pacing up and down your room, still silent. He looked at you for a second but his sight fell to the floor immediately after that. 

“I uh…” he began before taking a deep breath. “I lied to you earlier.”

“About what?” you wanted to clarify. “Wanting to go to HR?” 

He shook his head. “I said that we can just forget about it but I don’t think I can do that.” 

Your heart felt heavy at his words. His discomfort pained you and you wished nothing more than to be able to take it back. “I’m so sorry Spencer.”

“I deleted the image off my phone but…” he paused to finally look at you. The expression written over his face was hard to read. What you didn't find was the discomfort you expected. Instead he looked… cocky?

He continued, “...it seems like it’s burned into my brain. And I can’t help but wonder, was it really an accident?”

“What?! Of course!” you squeaked. “Believe me, I would never want to send you a picture like that unprompted.”

That was when you saw a subtle smirk on his face. “Interesting choice of words.” 

You thought about it for a moment. Had you really just implied that you would want to send him nudes if he’d ask you to? 

“That's not what I meant,” you tried to brush it off. “And please don’t give me a lecture about Freudian slips.”

His presence filled the room and you felt like you couldn't take deep enough breaths to satiate your need for oxygen. His demeanor was so different from what you were used to and you had trouble wrapping your head around it.

His next question was even more surprising. “Who did you take this picture for?” 

The undertone in his voice was unsettling and you started feeling defensive. “I don’t see how that's any of your business but just for the record, I took it for myself. I do that occasionally to make myself feel good about my body.” 

It seemed as if he was content, almost relieved with your answer. You scanned his body language again and replayed his words in your head. Then it hit you all at once. Spencer was not here to scold you for what you did. 

He was jealous. And he wanted to make sure no one else got to see your picture. 

A grin formed on your face as you realized that you could play this game too.

Your tone was laced with a certain playfulness when you asked, “What did you do after you saw the picture?”

The change of your demeanor seemed to take Spencer by surprise. “I just told you, I deleted it.” 

“I don't think that's all you did.” He audibly gulped and you noticed his cheeks taking on a reddish color. Stepping closer to him, you whispered, “Did you touch yourself, Spencer?”

A shaky breath left his mouth before he confessed, “Yes.”

“Naughty boy,” You teased him. “You really liked that image, hm?” 

Nodding, he took a step forward until there was barely any space between the two of you. “I can't stop thinking about you.”

His words boosted your confidence. “I know I look great in that pic. But I think I would look even better in this lighting right here, don’t you think?” 

Before you could bring to action what you had insinuated, you felt Spencer's hands cupping your face to pull you into a kiss. The surprised gasp escaping your throat was muffled by his lips against yours. 

He kissed you with a fervor that knocked the air out of your lungs. Weakness rushed to your knees and you had to hold onto him to not tumble back. One hand pawed at his shirt while the other one held onto his shoulder. His lips felt soft yet firm against yours. 

When his tongue begged for entrance, you let it. As he deepened the kiss, you could feel heat rushing through body. A few moments ago you really thought you’d have the upper hand in this game you were playing but now realized you were just as pathetic as he was. 

Maybe sending him that image was a Freudian slip of some kind. Or maybe it was just some odd plan the universe had to bring you together. Either way, you were grateful for how things turned out. 

Your hands became curious as they wandered over Spencer’s body. The tingling in your fingertips could only be soothed by feeling his skin underneath them, so they quickly began unbuttoning his shirt. Spencer showed a similar interest in feeling more of you by the way his fingers dropped down to the hem of your shirt. 

Piece after piece both of your clothes fell to the floor, only ever breaking the kiss for as long as necessary. When you stood completely bare in front of one another, you dared to press your body against his to feel him. 

It was impossible to tell who moaned first when his length pressed against your stomach. With a firm grip on his shoulders, you moved him back until his legs made contact with the edge of the bed. You pushed down until he sat on the mattress, staring up at you with a curiosity in his eyes that made your heart jump. 

As you stepped back, his tongue darted out of his mouth to lick over his lips and you wondered if he thought about tasting you. To your surprise, he managed to not break eye contact until you challenged him, “Go on, take a look.”

His sight scanned your body, lingering on your breasts for a second before moving further down, taking everything in. You couldn’t hold back from looking at him, too. A rosy color had spread all over his cheeks and chest and when you dared to drop your eyes to his cock, you noticed how it twitched slightly against his thigh. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he cooed when your eyes met again. 

“Better than the image?” you teased, smirking at him. 

He only nodded before looking at your body again. It was like he was mesmerized, as if a miracle had just unfolded right before him. It became obvious that he was ready to worship you if you’d let him. But first, you had something else in your mind. 

“Show me exactly what you did when you saw my picture,” you told him. 

He raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “Wh… what?” 

“Don’t be shy now,” you snickered. “Come on, I wanna see how pretty you think I am.” 

The sweet smile on your face seemed to encourage him enough to let his right hand move towards his hardness. It was as if he needed reassurance when he found your eyes and you nodded.

He wrapped his fingers around his cock, giving himself a squeeze and you watched as precum spilled over the tip. Slowly, he began moving his fist up and down his length, swiping his thumb over the head each time he got to the top. The groan that slipped from his lips could only be described as absolutely sinful. 

You couldn’t deny how much the sight in front of you turned you on. Spencer was so incredibly beautiful and the thought that your body had the ability to make him feral like that drove you insane. 

Arousal gathered at your entrance the longer you watched him. This show was no longer enough for you, you needed more. Your hands found the curve of your chest, gently kneading them before your fingers began toying with your hardened peaks. Spencer’s eyes were fixated on your hands, his mouth hanging wide open and unabashedly moaning at the sight while accelerating the pace of his hand. 

Then suddenly, he stopped and got up from bed. Desperation was written all over his face when he looked at you. 

“Please,” he begged as he stepped closer. “I need to touch you.” 

It was everything you wanted right then, too. 

“I’m all yours, Spencer.” 

His mouth was on yours in an instant and he didn’t waste any time to move you over to the bed to push you onto the mattress. He followed quickly, towering over you as he kissed down your neck, making you moan in anticipation of what would follow. 

He moved further down your body, kissing and nipping on the tender flesh of your breasts before focusing his attention on your nipples. The sensation was almost unbearable and you could feel how your arousal began coating the insides of your thighs. 

Spencer smiled against your skin when he noticed you rocking your hips against his leg every so slightly. His confidence grew as he realized that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. 

“Needy,” he chuckled as he kissed down your stomach. “That’s cute.” 

Right then you couldn’t care less about being in charge, you just wanted to be taken care of. When his lips brushed over your inner thigh, you opened your legs further to give him better access. He lay down between your legs and didn’t waste any time before he began leaving feather light kisses against your folds. 

You watched as he licked his own lips, tasting your essence on them before he found your eyes. 

“You’re so wet,” he teased and let a finger move along your slit. “Is that all for me?” 

He expected a witty response, like you telling him to bring his mouth to good use for once. So it took him by surprise when you simply sighed, “Yes.” 

There was no more game to play. No more back and forth of who was in charge. It was just the two of you, equally as desperate to finally do what you both had been dreaming of for weeks.

“Good,” Spencer whispered, his hot breath tickling your core, before he finally granted you some relief. 

His tongue moved through your folds, collecting your taste before he focussed on your most sensitive spot. He experimented with different motions for a few moments, paying attention to your reactions until he found what you enjoyed the most. Your hand flew to his hair, your fingers intertwining with his curls to hinder him from moving away – even though he had no intention to do so, anyway. 

With one arm wrapped around your thigh he hindered you from bucking uncontrollably against his face while his other hand found your entrance, letting two fingers slip into you with ease. He moved with great precision, adjusting the angle and the pace according to your reactions, bringing you closer to your breaking point with every second passing. 

The sounds of your pleasure filled the room as you began dancing along the brink of euphoria. With just a few more skillful motions, he pushed you over it. Your walls pulsed around his fingers while your entire body shook. He worked you through your orgasm before he lay back down beside you, placing a gentle kiss against your lips. 

You were still panting when you found his eyes. The warm amber of his irises was almost completely swallowed by his pupils, the lust visible in his eyes contradicting the saccharine smile he showed you. 

“You okay?” he breathed as he wrapped one arm around your waist. 

“Yeah,” you confirmed while one of your hands moved down his body. 

Tentatively, you let your fingertips brush along his length, feeling his velvety skin under your touch. “Now what are we gonna do with you?” you purred as you wrapped your fingers tightly around him, making him gasp. 

With a torturously slow pace, you moved along his cock. “Tell me, Spencer. What do you want?” 

“I uhm…,” he audibly swallowed. “I have a condom in my pocket.” 

The fact that he brought a condom to your hotel room when he came over early amused you. He never had any intention of just talking to you. 

“So, you want to fuck me?” 

“Yes,” he admitted unabashedly. “If you want that, too, of course.”

With a nod you confirmed that that was exactly what you wanted as well. Right after you let go of him, he grabbed his pants from the floor to take out the foil wrapper. You watched as he ripped it open and carefully rolled down the condom. 

Then, he kneeled down between your legs, taking a moment to admire the beauty of the woman in front of him. 

“Come here,” you cooed and he leaned over you without hesitation. 

Reaching between your bodies, you guided him to your entrance. He closed his eyes when he slowly entered you, relishing the sensation of stretching you open inch by inch. When he was fully inside you, he kissed you before he began moving with slow thrusts.

Wrapping your legs around his hips, you brought him even closer. When he was sure that you could take it, he accelerated his pace, fucking you against the mattress until you were sure you would lose your mind. 

Spencer’s body began trembling and he suddenly stopped moving. 

“Sorry, I’m really close,” he whined and tried to pull out slightly. 

“Don’t stop,” you pleaded as you kept him in place with your legs around him. “Please, I need it.”

One of your hands moved down to where your bodies were joined to desperately draw circles around your little nub, making you clench hard around his hardness. 

“Fuck,” he whimpered as he began moving again. “I can’t, ah–” 

With just a few more deep thrusts Spencer came, his cock twitching inside you as his whole body shook. It was enough to throw you over edge too, entering a state of pure bliss together with him. After you had both come down from your high, you welcomed him inside your embrace, your fingertips gently dancing over his back as he caught his breath. 

For the sake of getting cleaned up you separated for a few moments, only to lay back down together soon after. A shaky breath fell from Spencer’s lips and caught your attention. 

“So…,” he began talking but didn’t continue. 

You propped yourself up on one elbow to find his eyes. “Yeah?”

“I wanted to ask if maybe–” 

“You want me to send you that pic again?” you interrupted him with a grin on your face. 

“No,” he laughed. “I mean… that’s not what I wanted to say.”

Still in a teasing mood, you snickered, “But you would like to see that pic again?”

“You know what,” he chuckled as he lifted the blanket to get a peek at your naked body. “I think I actually prefer this.”

“Good,” you chirped. “If you want to see more of me you’ll have to take me on a date though.”

Placing a soft kiss on your lips, he whispered, “Deal.”

Thank you for reading! Please like, reblog and leave a comment to show your support and help me stay motivated to write more stories!

Taglist: @adoredfromafar @grumpyy-bearr @frickin-bats @pleasantwitchgarden @cynbx @xserenax-13 @alexxavicry @samuel-de-champagne-problems @evvy96 @reidsbookclub @lover-of-books-and-tea @sebs-oxygen @nomajdetective @kobaltdragon @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @castiels-majestic-wings

[saudadeko]

ADHD tips from a girlie who was diagnosed in her late twenties and has had little to no support since and is being so brave about it:

1) Make it easy, make it accessible, and make it appealing. If anything this is the most important thing, all tips going forward are based around this concept.

2) That thing you think would help you but you haven’t bought/done it yet because you’re technically surviving without it? Buy it, you need it. It doesn’t matter if people around you might think it’s wasteful or that you’re lazy, you’re not, just do it, trust me.

3) Expanding on tip #2, if you’re like me and eggs are your main source of protein because they’re quick and easy and feeding yourself is a near insurmountable task- buy yourself an electric egg cooker, make a bunch of hard boiled eggs and keep them in your fridge for quick and easy protein to add to any meal (handful of crackers, a hard boiled egg and a banana? 5 star meal right there. Or mash them up with some mayo for egg salad sandwiches). Other easy proteins include: potstickers (put them in instant ramen), edamame (they have microwaveable snack packs), chickpeas (put in salads!), beans (can of beans microwaved with shredded cheese and some tortilla chips), peanut butter (with crackers, apple and cheese, adult lunchable style), and tofu (cut into cubes, throw them into a ziplock with some seasoning and potato starch, shake that shit up and bake it until crispy).

4) Spend a little extra (if you are able) on daily use items that excite you, it will make you more likely to remember/want to do said daily task. For example: the only reason I remember to use sunscreen is because I bought some fancy japanese sunscreen that smells like roses so I get excited to use it, same for laundry detergent and body wash! there’s a gajillion different body wash scents out there, switch it up!

5) If there’s a task you continuously struggle with take a moment to think about which part of the task is making it difficult, it could be something even as small as “I don’t put my dirty clothes in the hamper because my hamper has a lid on it and lifting the lid is one step too many-”, sounds a little stupid huh? But trust your gut, it’s not stupid if it works. See tip #2 and BUY A HAMPER WITHOUT A LID.

6) If you are having trouble starting a task, break the task down further, sometimes the way I start a task is just by going “Ok step 1) stand up-“ and so forth. Don’t worry about the task as a whole just take it one step at a time.

7) If you’re halfway through a task and have to stop, leave it out. All this, “Put things away when you’re done with them.” is bullshit. you will be much more likely to finish the task if restarting it is easier because you left it out plus it’s a visual reminder. You can also create faux deadlines like “I gotta finish this project before my friend comes over on tuesday because after I finish it I can clean off the dinner table.” etc.

8) It’s okay to outsource tasks and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, humans are designed to ask for, and to require help (what do babies do when they’re first born?? cry for help!!) ask for help and receive help without shame, if it makes your life better, you are WINNING.

9) If you have one big overwhelming task that you think you need to get done before anything else, but you feel motivated to do other tasks, do those other tasks first, it’s okay. Otherwise in all likelihood (at least in my case) you’ll put everything off until the last minute and then have to do said overwhelming task and those other tasks won’t get done at all. Doing those smaller tasks also lowers the mental load and you can use them as a motivation launch pad to tackle bigger things.

10) If you notice you tend to not put something away/forget to do something, perhaps consider moving and storing the item closer to where it ultimately ends up or where you are more likely to see it. For example, my makeup, pills, and mail are all stored on my desk because that’s where I tend to do my makeup, take my pills and deal with my mail. I used to store my pills in my bathroom medicine cabinet but all too often I would forget because they weren’t in my line of sight. Now that they’re on my desk, I have multiple chances per day to pass by them, go “oh I gotta take those.” and take them.

11) Open storage, open storage, OPEN STORAGE.

12) Motivation can look like all kinds of things. sometimes the only reason I get out of bed is because I remember I have a fun snack and I get to go eat it if I get up. It’s okay to lean into those simple “animal-brain” type motivators, you’ll eat because then you can use that fun new kitchen gadget you got a daiso? Neat. you’ll shower because then you can paint your nails that fun new color you got? Fantastic. You’ll go to the dmv and do that annoying thing because you’ll take yourself out for boba after? Superb. Lean-IN to those small motivators, they aren’t stupid or childish, they are VITAL.

13) Don’t buy into the cult of “if it’s worth doing, do it properly” it’s guaranteed to set you up for failure. If it’s worth doing, do it in whatever capacity you are able to. I put sunscreen on once a day because that’s fucking better than not doing it at all and I sure as all hell will fail at reapplying it multiple times a day. If it’s worth doing, do it half-assed babieeee.

Go forth and prosper!!! xoxo ✌️🩵

[makingqueerhistory]

":')))))))) you realise that gen AI is available to everyone though right??? Queer creators can use it just as much as anyone else??? I just don't understand this post... It really feels like a cheap way to get on the 'AI Bad's bandwagon, and coming from such a thoughtful and insightful creator that's incredibly disappointing... It's okay to not comment on subjects you're not an expert in y'know...?"

Y'all know the drill, I am replying to this publicly but that is not an invitation to send any negative messages to the person I am replying to.

Anyways, let me start by saying that the original context of the post you're replying to is discussing an event where a queer org used generative AI to steal an interview with Keri Hulme. So let's start there. To be clear I don't even know if the original interviewer was queer so let's put the identities of stealer and stolen from to the side. I want to explain the harm done in this example specifically and I hope this is illustrative of what harm generative AI can (and does) do.

The original place I saw generative AI was a queer org that explicitly says they are using generative AI "for good", and as a way to bring more queer history to light. So let's take them at their word, and assume they are not out to cause harm. This is the best example of generative AI that I can imagine, so I hope that makes it clear that I am not coming at this issue from bad faith in any way.

Here is the harm they are causing:

Decontextualizing and rephrasing an interview: I am not going to pretend that I am an expert in academic best practices, but I do believe one thing, if a person is speaking on their own identity and lived experience, it is always much better to directly quote than it is to rephrase. As I read this source, I initially didn't know that it was AI, and I was already upset. An interview that is widely available on the internet with no pay wall, was poorly sourced and made more vague than it was in the initial text. By creating one degree of seperation between the original words of A WRITER (whose literal job was largely based in choosing the right words to describe experiences they had) harm is already done. It makes vague what was once clear, and removes Keri Hulme's voice from her own narrative.

The original interviewer is not paid, or given proper recognition: I get it, sometimes just copy pasting an interview doesn't feel transformative enough, but something that one would learn if they worked in the queer history field and weren't a literal robot rehashing what has already been said, is that not everything needs to be transformed. In those cases, we give credit to the person who said the original words (in this case Keri Hulme), and the interviewer who facillitated the conversation (in this case Shelley Bridgeman). This case (again a best case scenario), takes the attention and byline away from the original interviewer and gives it to an AI.

The original publisher of this story is deinsentivised from paying interviewers in the future: The original publisher of this interview has ads on their website. As a person who also has ads on their website, taking an article like this and rephrasing it for no good reason (the orginal word count was not prohibitive and the rephrasing did not make it more readable), takes money from the publisher. It's pennies, but it's also removing numbers could have been used to justify further interviews with asexual people and archiving of asexual stories. The org that stole from this publication does not interview people themselves so the money and numbers that could have gone to continue to preserve asexual stories goes to stealing them instead.

These are just the active harms that I saw in this specific case. As you said, I am not an expert in generative AI, and will not be speaking as if I am. But I will say that asking me not to speak out on active harm that is being caused in queer history spaces, is disrespectful to my many years in this field.

To illustrate this even clearer: if you were a patron, you would know I recently took down an old article. I have been rereading and editing our backlist of articles, and I found one that no longer fit my standards of sourcing. My standards had recently raised due to a video made by HBomberguy about someone in the queer history space who was stealing from other creators. I watched this video not as a work project, but because I watch most of HBomberguys videos, and this one made me think more critically about sourcing. An AI can't do that. All an AI has is what has been inputted, and it is right now impossible to input every available peice of information about ethics into an AI and get a coherent ethical basis on which it will function.

It is a distinctly human trait to absorb information and change in that way. AI can rephrase information that already exists, steal it, recontextualize it even, but it cannot create something altogether new.

Do I believe that there one day might be an ethical use for Generative AI? Maybe. Do I believe that coming into a queer history space, stealing the words of a Maori asexual author, rephrasing them, and giving the original interviewer and publication no form of compensation for their work, is accomplishing that? No.

On a more personal note: I am coming at this issue with a bias. As a queer history creator, I do not want AI in my space, because it is literally damaging to my financial prospects. It has been like pulling teeth to try and get patrons in the current state of the global economy. I don't blame anyone from that, but I feel very disrespected that I am being asked to compete with a machine now. Not only that, but I am being asked to shut up and be fine with it? No, absolutely not. I cannot and will not stay quiet as space that I have fought tooth and nail to create in mainstream discussions is taken and given to AI.

AI was not supporting me when I was sent gore to try and scare me off of discussing queer history. A person did that. AI was not there to tell me I had written too many sad stories, and I needed some happy endings to remind myself of the good in the world. A person did that. AI was not there when I was being harrassed for supporting and including asexual stories on my website. A person did that.

And after all that, I am being asked to lie down and take it when my ability to pay the people who supported me in those ways, is being threatened. Nope. Not going to happen.

An AI doesn't have to make rent. An AI doesn't understand what it feels like to have to stop holding their wife's hand in public. An AI didn't get calls from people needing comfort in reaction to the election. Pay me for my work, and get this AI nonsense out of my face.