#still profoundly not normal about them

[mister-eames]

1/? I was thinking about the whole dreamshare business & how interesting it is cos while you have the likes of Arthur & Cobb who would consider themselves “gentlemen thieves” & believe in things like “honor amongst thieves” etc, obvs not everyone in the industry is gonna be like that. They’re criminals, after all, so you’re gonna have people with a complete lack of morals, people who are power hungry, or jealous of competition or who are simply willing to screw others over for the right price...

2/? So I was like: how do you even navigate an industry like that? ESP when you’re starting off. It's gotta be a whole lot of trial & error when it comes to finding out who's trustworthy, who you’d be willing to work with again & who you’re gonna avoid like the plague. & then I was like how fun would it be if when you didn't know your other teammates well you literally just went by your role. Noone would know the others' names; you'd literally just be The Extractor, The Chemist, The Architect 3/? And then i was thinking the dreamshare business is DEFINITELY a gossipy lot. Because there's gotta be so much secrecy, rumours have gotta run abound (especially if you start making a name for yourself...whether in a good capacity or a bad one.) And then I was like how do I make this about Arthur and Eames? Imagine before you met your Pointman for the first time all you know about them are these rumours you've heard: "A buzzkill," "part ninja", "quiet", "he's like medusa, one look and you're 5/5 walls the other has built around them and form their own opinions... Idk, i just love the idea of them being constantly surprised by one another. And also! Yes! I stan the idea of Arthur as having a great sense of humour too!

------

Nonnie, my darling, it appears that tumblr ate the 4th part of your ask :( :( im so sorry about that, and just as I was getting so SO into it too, damn you tumblr!!! I think I can extrapolate a little where you were going with it though <3 --- I am OBSESSED with the idea of dreamsharers being a gossipy, busybody bunch - personal knowledge must be worth a lot, anything from someones real name down to their favourite colour or preferred detergent. And the rumours that must get born and mutated through the proverbial phone tree. Not just from other dreamsharers, but little white lies Arthur and Eames must have told about themselves a) to muddy the waters on any truth about them and b) to weed out who can and who can't be trusted with 'sensitive' information. And the idea that their love story is obtaining pieces and putting each other together like a jigsaw puzzle is beautiful, never having the most complete picture, but delighted by every piece they find.

Also "like Medusa" lmaoooo oh my god I want a fic of Arthurian tall tales

Arthurs having a great sense of humour, no matter how it's written, is my favourite thing. I mean, in canon we only ever get to see him 'at work', right, where it's his job to sort of curate the fun and dose out the reality checks, but even then we sort of see a couple of cracks - the most notable being 'worth a shot' aha. And outside of work? Arthur is a fucking hoot. Under that serious facade is a playful man with a face made for smiling, for silliness. It's what makes him balanced, as a character and I cannot be paid any sum to be convinced otherwise. I think one of my fave illustrations of this, of many, is HGTV verse where Eames legitimately finds Arthur breathtakingly hilarious and no one else in their work life 'gets' why. That's how I think of Arthur and Eames in canon - as having a language of inside jokes and wry, odd, weirdo sense of humour that you have to untangle and decode to begin to 'get', as with any good relationship and/or friendship. "Merry chase" is an old joke, the words so specific I can't help but believe they're born of history and hilarity, recycled between them so often throughout the years it still makes them grin.

[pepprs]

ok actually yeah. i really need to do dishes and go to bed and not stay up late mentalillnessposting a little too viscerally on tumblr the night before i facilitate a workshop in front of the literal president of the university and the vp of my division (LOL about that btw. actively shitting my pants.) but oh my GOD. so saying goodbye to lia was actually fine in the moment. neither of us cried and we talked about all the ways we’ll still be in each others lives and reasons we’ll have to interact in the near future. and she gave me an extremely heartfelt thoughtful gift and we left on a very hopeful note and i felt better and content bc there’s still the rest-of-life and we’ll see each other there. but like an hour before that as i mentioned i was HYSTERICALLY sobbing. in full view of people i know AND people i don’t. and i just sat there and sobbed while everything carried on around me. everything carried on around me!!! and i feel like im about to sob again thinking about it.

[myrkulitescourge]

the way that one line from the new epilogue in an astarion romance is going to HAUNT me

just. what a profoundly intense thing to confess to someone.

like, just these six months of newfound happiness with you exerts a force on his heart equal and in direct opposition to two centuries of endless torment, the gnawing hunger and exploitation. this flashbulb-bright fraction of his long life holds the same gravity to him as years upon years of darkness and suffering.

in all likelihood, he hasn’t even known his lover for as long as his worst memory lasted, that year sealed away to go mad from starvation and sensory deprivation, yet he still tells them this brief time has been so fundamentally and powerfully important that the weight of even that unimaginable hell is vanishingly small compared to this present he has now and the future ahead of them both.

how am i supposed to act normal about this.

[peppertoastuniverse]

pep reads: fluffiest fluff edition

I've just been CONSUMING so many jjk fanfics... here are the softest fluffiest fic recommendations since I think we all need it right now. This list is in no particular order – there's so many talented writers out there! These ones just made me MELT extra hard. Mostly no smut, I just needed to be held.

gojo satoru

☆ only you by Kaiseriin [A03: mini series] [status: unknown] [Cursed speech!reader] Other than Gojo, not many people understand the sign language you use to communicate as a cursed speech user. When some students from Kyoto arrive, one tries to learn so he can get closer to you.

☆ summer skies, winter lies by miyaspudding [A03: long fic!][status: ongoing]

"how cruel was fate? how much had he sinned in his past life, for the woman he loved to belong to his best friend? how little did god love him?"

in which gojo satoru learns that emotions are not weaknesses but consolations; and geto suguru realizes that he's always been a little too late for everything. because the furthest distance is an inch away, and the furthest thing from truth is "just friends".

☆best of luck. by reinerispretty [A03: one shot! part of a mini series] [status: unknown] In which Gojo Satoru shows up unannounced, twice.

☆Ah, you were both equally idiotic by Hiroka [A03: mini series] [status: unknown]

4 times others realized something was going on between Gojo and you, and 0 times you both realized it.

[Oneshots from the Old Beats Cinematic Universe]

☆ For A God, Shopping Is a New Adventure by Bun_sun [AO3] [status: on going!] [Baker!reader]

“Would you like anything else?” “Actually, yeah.” He flashes you a grin that only promises trouble, pushing his sunglasses down with a way too exaggerated flirty expression. “Can I get your number too?” “Haha, really funny Gojo. Now, I have more clients so...” But he's already getting his phone out, as if he hasn't listened to a single word you've said. “...Oh, you're for real.” ~ ~ ~ ~ Reader owns a small cafe with their own baked goods. Gojo comes in one day, and absolutely falls in love with their pastries (and with them).

☆ I Want to Kiss You / キスしたい by arminsumi [A03][status: unknown]

You and Satoru falling in love despite a language barrier.

You've come to visit Japan to meet these two boys you met online. Though Satoru can't speak English and you can't speak Japanese, the two of you still fall in love. There's seems to be romantic tension between you and Suguru, too.

geto suguru

it's so hard to find suguru fics without him being used as a plot device for gojo

☆ gentle glow / deep thought by waffiez [AO3: one shot] [status: completed] "I thought about you, you know." Despite the softness of his voice, it cut through the otherwise silent atmosphere profoundly and made your heart skip a beat. "Is that so?" "It is." ☆☆☆ in which you awake to your best friend suguru asleep at the edge of your bed, having returned from a lengthy mission and only really wanting to see you.

☆ unnamed drabble by @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat [tumblr: drabble] [status: completed]

comfy fluff w sleepy needy sugu <33)

☆ Wash It Away by @shadowsandshapes [A03/tumblr: drabble][status: completed]

Sometimes you forget Geto is just a guy. But then he shows a sense of vulnerability that surprises you. After a particularly emotionally draining battle, you run him a warm bath and take care of his aches. ☆ Wisteria and Ciabatta by @hayakawalove [A03/tumblr: mini fic!][status: completed, chapter 2 has smut!]

Traveling merchant Suguru has led a relatively tame life thus far. Growing his flowers, baking his bread. One day, when he ventures out further than normal he comes across something more beautiful than all the flowers in the world. You. ☆ the paint doesn't move the way the light reflects by @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat [tumblr: long oneshot!] [status: completed]

bonus!

☆ Digest Your Feelings (DYF) – First Years! by @whalesforhands [A03/tumblr: part of a longer series of fics] [status: completed] new classmates, new life, new friends(?). a look into the life of the dyf au characters in their first year.

[coff33andb00ks]

vivvvv how about…

11 + 24 with lando 😊

"It's impossible to get rid of me."/"Are you awake or asleep?"

driver + number = drabble <3

maddie babe ily

warnings: disgusting perverted amount of fluff

Lando Norris is, in his own words, a little bitch.

Granted, he said those words when he was drunk and a moth flew too close to his face, but you'll never let him forget that he uttered them.

Nor will you let him forget you have video of him screaming in terror and running straight into the glass door of the balcony to get away from the moth.

It's what your friendship is based on: embarrassing moments that the other finds hilarious but no one else would understand. Like the time you spent three minutes telling a store mannequin what you were looking for, or the time Lando locked himself out of his apartment at four in the morning. He has a tendency of doing that, so much so that when it happens he shows up at your place.

Like he is now, in his joggers and slides, without his wallet or phone, smiling sheepishly at you like it isn't three a.m.

"Don't you have other friends," you grumble, rubbing your eyes with the heels of your hands.

"None that'll answer the door this late," he sighs.

You sigh and step back to let him in, pretending to be unaffected by the scent of him freshly showered. "How'd it happen?"

"Took out the trash and thought I had my key in my pocket." He looks entirely too comfortable in your tiny apartment, shirtless and his hair still damp.

Nodding, you shuffle to your bedroom to collect the spare key to his place. That he'd given to you so casually, like it was a normal thing for him to hand out an extra key, when you knew it wasn't because even Fewtrell didn't have a spare key back when Lando lived in England still.

"C'mon, you know I'll need it. Besides, you're the only one I trust to have it." He dropped the key - attached to a Snoopy keychain that you remember him buying in Vegas - into your purse. "There. Now it's impossible to get rid of me."

As if you'd ever want to.

He follows you into the bedroom and you're painfully aware of your unmade bed and the clothes you'd left on the floor. Which is ridiculous, because it's Lando, he's been in your bedroom before, he's seen your dirty underwear–

Just not at three in the morning...

"Fuck," you mutter, turning your purse upside down to empty it onto the dresser. The essentials of your life spill out, lip gloss and gum and wallet and keys - but not Lando's because that one stays on its Snoopy keychain it's special - and hand sanitizer and notepad and six pens and tissues and the ticket stub from the movie he took you to see two weeks ago and a friendship bracelet and two pads. Everything but his key.

"Don't tell me you've lost it," he says.

You scoff at the idea. You may have lost your mind, your sanity, and sometimes your wallet, but you'd never lose his key. Your sleepy mind scrambles. Two weeks ago you pulled it to give to him and–

"Oh shit it's at my place," he mumbles, clapping a hand over his face.

"Lando!" you groan, sweeping everything back into your purse.

He's sorry, you're annoyed, and after bickering uselessly you tell him to just go to bed, he can get his superintendent to let him in in the morning.

It's not unusual to share a bed with him. Lando's a clingy, touchy feely person, half the time you travel with him he ends up taking you into staying in his room. Ostensibly because he likes to talk but really because he wants to cuddle.

"You awake?" he whispers in the darkness. "Or asleep?"

You don't answer, because you know he's about to say something profoundly sweet or incredibly stupid.

He presses his face into your hair and sighs, much like an exhausted dog finally settling down for a good sleep. "I do it on purpose sometimes," he whispers. "Cuz I sleep better with you than when I'm alone."

As confessions go it's probably your favorite. But you have to pretend you don't hear it. You're smiling though, and you let out a sleepy little hum. And you feel him smile.

[sebsxphia]

your (my) life with rhett abbott.

rhett abbott x reader.

￫ summary: a life with rhett.

￫ word count: 680.

￫ warnings: mentions of sex, some angst, children and fluff.

￫ authors notes: this is a collection of daydreams i have about my cowboy husband. my main masterlist can be found here! 💌

Rhett is a little awkward and shy. For a burly bull rider, when he first asked you out, his thumb moved between each fingernail to pick at it. His hands were twitching with nerves. From a first glance, he simply looked like a man asking a person out. His hands were by his sides and he stood tall.

His father told him to never look small, even though he made Rhett feel so small sometimes.

When you replied with a beaming smile that you would love to go out with him sometime, his cheeks became flushed with a warm pink, that spread over the tops of his ears and down his neck in a hot flush.

He gets grumpy too. His eyebrows knit together in a firm line. His eyes become stone and his eyelids grow heavy. He’ll focus on one particular spot of dirt on his jeans, not baring to look at anything else. He clenches his teeth tightly together and his jaw becomes firmly set.

But, he stands up for himself and what he thinks is right. However, it comes off as him being defensive and angry when really, he’s only trying to protect the things that he loves most. That being the life you’ve built together on your ranch and most importantly, you and your little baby girl.

Bonnie Abbott was born in the early spring. You spent many days in the summer standing on your front porch, with her in your arms and watching Rhett work not too far from your home. He couldn’t bear to spend long periods away from you both, so he always opted to do work closer to your home during the day.

You would hold her chubby little hand and wave it for her, humming in a sweet voice, “Wave to Daddy, Bonnie!”

You watch as your three ranch cats jump from the rooftops and fences of the barn. Your Anatolian Shepherd, Daisy, sits by your feet and keeps a careful and protective watch over both you and Bonnie. Robin, your Blue Heeler, is always quick on Rhett’s heels and trails around behind him, as he works in the hot and sticky Wyoming summer heat. Rhett whistles sharply between his lips and Robin is always quick to follow.

You still live in Wyoming, but you chose your ranch to be two towns over from Wabang. Rhett wanted to distance himself from his family, but he couldn’t leave them completely. He’s still holding onto this deeply entrenched guilt, that therefore causes him to tether to them.

He’s working on it though. He’s working on himself.

He doesn’t deny his mother and father of seeing his grandchild. You go back to visit when you can, but you normally leave after spending the day there. Rhett can only bear so many hours before the familiar and tell-tale signs of his set frown and tense jaw begin to appear. You still go back for occasions such as Thanksgiving and Christmas. Those are the only two occasions when you, Rhett and Bonnie will stay the night.

His old room is still there. It still comforts him.

You press up against Rhett in his small bed and keep him warm, whilst Bonnie sleeps soundly beside you both in her crib. His room is nearly identical to when he left it, but these small changes with you both now being in there with him, is what gives him the harmony to fall asleep.

You asked Rhett once if he would be gentle with you, as he had your beautiful naked body below him.

“Will you be gentle with me? Please be gentle with me.”

He gave you the love that you so dearly deserved. He calls you his “baby,” his “darlin’”, his love.

He is your dream. He is your cowboy, but a man who needs to be wanted. He needs to feel wanted. He gets so much validation from you, in every way. Emotionally, physically, sexually… And you give that to him without hesitation. He’s so over the moon with you. He’s so profoundly and deeply in love with you.

taglist: @beachbabey @tallrock35 @currentlybradshaw @unmistakablyunknown @iloveprettyboysblog @flames-thebitch @randomfandomgirl97 @kmc1989 @swiftsgirlfriend

tagging those who may be interested: @sunblchdfly @sugarcoated-lame @lewmagoo @peachystenbrough @floydsmuse @rhettmotel @mearslot @rhettabbotts @hangmanapologist @withahappyrefrain @castiel-barnes @sandbarbirdie

[lemoniiiiiii]

SOME RANDOM THOUGHTS / HEADCANONS ABOUT MAX COOPERMAN

just realized that aside from jake, most of max's relationships with people were either superficial or transactional which he probably just thought was normal growing up as a rich kid who was a "loser" learning that ppl only liked him when he had something to give them.

of course, when he was younger everyone loved to go to his birthday parties b/c his parents were loaded and they always planned something extravagant to try and make up for the fact they were never really around but, as he got older his parents stopped really caring to put on those parties. after that, no one bothered to give max any attention or befriend him unless they saw his wealth as something useful, or just brought him around so he could be the butt of the joke. and the second they got what they wanted from him they discarded him. being the kind-hearted and naive boy he is, he doesn't really fully grasp it until after ryan beats him to a pulp. he brushes off what happens but it honestly profoundly affects him from then on.

he thought ryan was a friend but turns out he was just being taken advantage of, his parents didn't care to come see him in the hospital despite how serious his condition was, and jake, the only genuine friend he ever had, ends up leaving (prolly bc college) and max later refers to him in passing as "a guy i brought up back in the day" which hints that they likely don't talk anymore.

so college starts. a fresh slate. max guards himself with this macho (with a very small hint of being an asshole) persona. he's got a leadership position as the RA of his floor, got two nerdy "friends" that are very reminiscent of ryan and his guys (remember when they snicker along with him at mike?), and a semi-famous reputation online. he loses weight the summer before college and decides to stop fighting (probably caused by the trauma from ryan) but we see he uses hand grips so even he definitely wants to keep himself strong for his physique and to protect himself. though max is still fairly lean which is likely an insecurity for him. the last thing he ever wants to be seen as is a dork.

let's not even talk about how being conditioned like this affects his views on women and relationships. first off in highschool he only gets attention from baja's friends b/c of his association with jake, then in college he gets all this attention because he's "attractive" now and has this cool car, dorm and fame due to the fighting videos + promotions. he's (mostly) only ever made out with drunk women at parties or events that just throw themselves at him but it never goes further than that.

he likely has made himself believe that he should think of women as prizes (again as awful as ryan was max kind of molds his new self with his influences subconsciously. he had the kind of attention, the girls, the intimidation factor max aspires to have), but if a girl were to ever genuinely like him it would fry his brain. he wouldn't understand the idea of someone wanting to spend time with him, even if he wasn't really doing anything. to intently listen to him and partake in his interests. or how much happier you'd look after just going on a walk around campus with him vs. when he bought you jewelry or flowers.

it left him with a feeling he only experienced once before when jake saved him, and went after ryan.

it just clicks for him like-

oh. this is how it feels to be genuinely cared for.

it's not soon after he realizes that you tell him you love him for the first time, while cuddling in bed (he's sure his mother used to say it to him when he was younger but he honestly can't really remember anymore-- the most communication he has with his parents now is the deposits into his bank account).

once the door closes, and you've left for your classes.. he feels the lingering heat of your lips, your words echoing in his head and the way you looked at him...

and he cries.

[ninjatrashpanda]

Come Home And Be(e) With Your Man

Written for @bucktommypositivityweek Round 2! (Day 1: Make your own Season 8 opening disaster) Read on AO3 here!

To say that Buck was exhausted was an understatement. 22 million fucking bees. And hell, if it had been normal honey bees or whatever, that would’ve been fine! Honey bees are cute, little critters who don’t do anything to anyone who doesn’t deserve it, never mind that they’re a necessity for the environment. Honey bees rock! But no, it had been Africanized bees. Twenty-two million killer bees. Why? Just why?

It wasn’t like Buck’s day hadn’t been completely in shambles before that either. Every day was automatically in shambles when Vincent Gerrard was your captain. When he wasn’t getting on Eddie’s case for being “lazy,” he was on Hen’s about “keeping up with the boys,” or throwing mocking questions about Chinese take-out at Chimney. But, as awful as it was, Buck had been prepared for that. Hen, Chim and Tommy had warned him and Eddie about it, and had made him promise not to jump in and punch the son of a bitch in the face first chance he got. Even Eddie, the first time Gerrard threw a casual joke about “the wall” at him, had squeezed Buck’s shoulder and told him that it was fine (it wasn’t) and that it wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard before. Gerrard wasn’t worth getting fired over.

But the thing was, Buck was a minority now, too. He hadn’t really thought about it before, but he was. And the first time Gerrard had decided to call him “fruity,” right after wondering out loud who between him and Tommy was “wearing the pants,” Buck had almost blown a gasket and thrown him over the station loft’s railing. He’d always theoretically known that comments like Gerrard’s hurt, and he had always, even back when he was still in school, gotten pissed off beyond belief when he overheard someone making them toward other people.

Having them directed at himself was completely different though. Working under Gerrard had made him realize just how small, how worthless an attitude like that could make you feel. He wasn’t too proud to admit that he had cried into Tommy’s shoulder the night that had happened either. Buck had tried to play tough at first, but Tommy had known it was an act, and a single “Evan” in that concerned, warm voice of his had been enough to make Buck feel safe enough to let it all out.

So, Gerrard had been reigning in terror for weeks at this point, and then a truck transporting twenty-two million Africanized killer bees had crashed on the highway, letting them lose on the citizens of Los Angeles, because why the fuck not, right?! It was tiring, in more ways than one, and at the end of that shift from hell, (He was half convinced the new C-Shift probie had said the “Q” word, and at least five times, if not more.) Buck hadn’t even bothered to go shower at the station, he just wanted to get out as soon as possible, even if it meant making his jeep reek of sweat and bee.

He wasn’t fully sure how he ended up making it to Tommy’s house, or even up the driveway to the front door. His legs felt like his shoes were made of concrete, Buck being barely able to lift his feet off the ground. Strands of his hair, which he’d left mostly in its naturally curly state because Tommy liked it that way, were sticking uncomfortably to his forehead, making him feel profoundly gross. He really couldn’t wait to stand under some nice, warm water, followed by cuddling up with his nice, beefy boyfriend on the couch to watch literally any movie that didn’t have bees in it, where he would probably fall asleep on Tommy’s shoulder, with his arms embracing him.

Even thinking about it made Buck feel full of bliss.

The moment he unlocked and opened the front door, (They had exchanged keys a month ago. Buck’s stomach had fluttered for days after, every time he remembered.) Buck was hit with the mouthwatering, unmistakable scent of Nonna Ricci’s special ragù. Tommy was making Arancini, a dish Buck had fallen in love with the moment he had taken a bite out of one. The smell alone was enough to slightly lift the weight on Buck’s shoulders.

Following the trail through Tommy’s living room into the kitchen, he found his boyfriend at the stove, his back to the door, fishing the crispy, perfectly golden rice balls out of the pot-turned-makeshift-deep fryer. He was humming a cheery tune as he worked, seemingly oblivious to Buck’s presence. Buck, in turn, simply leaned against the door frame and watched Tommy work for a moment. His eyes traced over Tommy’s broad shoulders, the way his back muscles flexed with every little movement, the way he was slightly swinging his hips left to right and left again in perfect sync with his little melody.

Almost subconsciously, Buck moved over toward Tommy, who now shot a small look over his shoulder with a small smirk on his lips. Wiggling his eyebrows a little, (and making Buck’s stomach do somersaults in the process) he turned back toward the stove, while Buck finally reached him and wrapped his arms around Tommy’s waist, his nose instantly landing in the crook of Tommy’s neck. The slight scent of vanilla and sandalwood on Tommy’s skin told Buck that his boyfriend had already showered himself, which didn’t really surprise him. With the whole ass bee-nado that had descended onto the city, clearly AirOps had pushed overtime the same as the 118 and, well, probably every station in LA.

“Hey, baby, how are-oof,” Tommy began before he got cut off by Buck collapsing against his back. Buck would feel sorry, but he couldn’t bring himself to right now. His legs had been shaky with exhaustion since he’d left the station, and Tommy was big, and broad, and firm and Buck just couldn’t help using him to lean on for a moment. If Tommy’s low chuckle was anything to go by, he really didn’t mind. “Didn’t even need to ask, huh?”

“I hate bees.”

Tommy let out a loud laugh at that and turned off the stove, the last of the arancini having been fished out of the hot oil. He slowly turned around in Buck’s arms, Buck lifting his head with a small whine at not being able to smell Tommy anymore. Tommy, not missing a beat, quickly silenced him with a soft kiss and reached up to card his fingers through Buck’s hair, an action that never ceased to help Buck relax.

“Yeah, I get it,” Tommy mumbled against Buck’s lips. “A whole bunch of them almost got into my cockpit during a MedEvac call. I don’t want to know what it was like actually having to deal with them hands-on.”

Buck hummed and moved his arms from Tommy’s hips to wrap them tightly around his lower back. His nose found Tommy’s neck once more, that beautiful scent entering his system again, almost like a drug he’d been on withdrawal from. Tommy wasted no time in burying his own face in Buck’s curls, tenderly nuzzling against his temple.

“Don’t do that, I’m filthy.”

“Mhm, sure, but I like you when you’re filthy.”

Tommy’s voice was low and playful, sending a shiver down Buck’s spine. His hands were gentle as they roamed Buck’s back, tracing soothing patterns that somehow made Buck feel like the weight of the day was finally lifting off his shoulders. It was moments like this that Buck simply couldn’t have with anyone else. He tried picturing coming home to Taylor like this, sweaty, and smelly, and tired, both mentally and physically. He was certain she’d be sympathetic and quick to agree to a nice, lazy evening in front of the TV, but there was no way in hell she would’ve flirted with him like that while he was in this state.

“Yeah? Well, this is a new level of filthy, Tommy,” Buck murmured into the warm skin of Tommy’s neck, inhaling deeply. He didn’t care if he was gross and covered in sweat and bee guts; in this moment, he just needed to be close, to feel Tommy solid and warm against him.

Tommy pulled back slightly, just enough to catch Buck’s gaze. His eyes were soft, and full of that gentle understanding that Buck had grown to love more than anything. (The L word had been on his mind quite a bit lately, but he ignored it for now. It was way too soon for any of that anyway.) He brushed a stray curl away from Buck’s forehead and let his thumb linger, softly caressing Buck’s cheek. “Shower, then food, yeah? I’ve got some fresh towels in the bathroom for you.”

Buck nodded, his exhaustion seeping back in as Tommy’s suggestion sank in. As much as he wanted to just melt into Tommy and let the world disappear, he knew he’d feel a million times better after a hot shower. Especially if said shower wasn’t alone. “Yeah, okay,” he sighed, his voice barely above a whisper. He still managed to put on an at least passable flirty smile. “I, uh, I could definitely use…a shower.”

Tommy pressed another quick kiss to Buck’s lips, his hand lingering on Buck’s neck, squeezing reassuringly. “I’ll have everything ready by the time you’re out,” he promised. “And we can just crash after, alright? Nothing but couch, blankets, and the worst movie we can find.”

With that, Tommy stepped out of Buck’s embrace and moved over to the refrigerator. Buck blinked several times as he watched Tommy take out a head of iceberg lettuce, which he took to the sink to wash it. What…was Tommy doing? Buck briefly wondered if Tommy was trolling him, but that didn’t seem to be something he’d do, at least not after a day like this. 

“Uh, babe?” he asked, getting Tommy’s attention. His hands were tearing the lettuce apart, the loose leaves landing in a large strainer Tommy always used to wash his veggies. Focusing on Tommy’s hands, however brief it may have been, actually made Buck almost salviate, so he met Tommy’s questioning look with a dark, heated one of his own. “I said I could use a shower.”

The exaggerated head movements toward the general direction of Tommy’s bathroom seemed to do the trick. Tommy’s mouth formed an enlightened “O” as he realized what Buck was playing at, right before he dropped the whole head of lettuce into the strainer. He seemingly forgot about it entirely right after as he walked toward the door in quick strides, pulling his henley over his head and throwing it aside to the kitchen floor in one fluid motion in the process.

With a wide grin, Buck followed suit, his own shirt quickly joining Tommy’s. As he followed Tommy out into the living room while opening his belt, Buck couldn’t help but let out a happy sigh. He had this now. He had Tommy. Tommy, who was supportive, who got what the job was like, who knew how to help him take the edge of.

Tommy, who was always there, always constant, always knew what to do.

Tommy, who Buck was sure he was in love with. And though it may be too soon to say those words exactly, Buck wasn’t scared about feeling them.

He was in love with Tommy Kinard. And he loved every second of it.

[koiiiji]

HYPERFIXATION

sangho in old style drawing>>>

tw ; ; possessive, jealousy, egoism (tell me when sanghon don't), yandere.

warnings ; mentions of death (not main char.), mention of depressive episode, suggestive.

please no spam likes, ageless/empty blogs DNI OR I WILL BLOCK YOU!!

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Sangho have a perverted concept of love.

for sure, he love his siblings, he love Hwangyeon in his own way, always approaching him to train, study, not to rely always on him, fucking his brains about army and work, because Hwang already was old enough to take responsibility for his own life, but this brat always was too relaxed and reliable on Sangho's money and wealth.

for Aria things was quite more easy, since she didn't brought any harm and extra work to do as Hwangyeon, who was the master in bringing extra pain in the ass to his older brother. Sangho just provided Aria with all essentials and nowadays popular stuff and he thought that would be enough. his younger sister go to nice school, wear nice clothes and always have money on her bank account, so she doesn't need to go through what her brother went, she can have above the normal school life - Sangho totally understand concept that she just a teenage girl.

but with you… oh dear, his love for you is whole different level. just start from the point that you was with him from beginning, this is the point why he appreciates you in the first place.

he happened to met you in training center where he went to train for his earliest competitions, even before he was in national team. but hold on. you was with them. with him and Maheyon. yeah, that too optimistic and windy guy who thought that in this world you can just enjoy bike ride...that bitch.

unfortunately, you didn’t make it to the national team with them, and the women’s team was not formed yet, so you were allowed to train with them and be part of the team as an analyst and technical assistant. so you three always met in the hall of training center and went homes together.

many things changed from that times, but Sangho always remember your smile. oh, dear, he never forget you had different types — gentle smile when you even close your eyes slowly, as you greet them each meeting, exiting one when your eyes shines and you run towards them for a tight hug, congratulating them with another win on completion. and his personal favorite - that comfort, soft smile you have when you look at something you like and it seems that even atmosphere around you is shining.

and Sangho hated that he needed to share any of your smiles with Maheyon.

he knew what kind of feelings that bastard had for you, and it makes his blood boil. every time he saw how your naive eyes blink at another Maheyon's attempt to flirt with you, Sangho was thankful for his stoic face and self control for not slamming that brat face right in the wall. but you, such a pretty, little thing were naive enough not to catch Maheyon's romantic feelings for you, but still the fact that you took him as a really close friend irritated Sangho. he never liked to share.

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as the news of Maheyon's tragic death spread, a somber cloud descended upon whole team. the accusations of doping tarnished his legacy, leaving behind a shattered reputation and unanswered questions. the loss of your friend hit each of you differently, but none felt it as profoundly as you, who regarded Maheyon almost as a brother.

tears flowed freely as you stood by his graveside, the weight of grief heavy in your heart. memories of shared laughter and cherished moments flooded your mind, each one a painful reminder of what was now lost. your sobs mixed and echoed with all other people who came to honor Maheyon's memory in the quiet cemetery, a haunting melody of sorrow that pierced through the silence.

Sangho, standing nearby, observed your anguish with a conflicted heart. while outwardly offering you comfort and support, inwardly he was faced with a strange feeling of joy and elation. with each tear you shed for Maheyon, a small part of Sangho couldn't help but feel a surge of satisfaction that now, finally, all your attention would be directed solely towards him. he will make sure of it.

in the following days and weeks, as you grappled with the overwhelming grief of losing Maheyon, Sangho found himself basking in the newfound attention that came his way. sport sponsors and managers seemed like beasts, not having time to properly mourn one athlete, they quickly found a replacement for him in the form of Sangho, once hesitant to invest in him, now saw an opportunity in his rising star. offers poured in, promising lucrative endorsements and opportunities for financial growth. the whispers of his business ventures grew louder and louder, drawing more and more attention of investors and entrepreneurs alike. Sangho seized the opportunity to establish himself outside of the shadow of Maheyon, determined to prove his worth and carve out his own path to success.

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the rain hadn’t let up in days. it was as if the entire world had become soaked in gray, the heavy, endless downpour matching the numbness that had settled over your heart. every day felt the same. long, quiet hours alone in the apartment, staring at nothing, feeling the weight of your grief press down on you like a constant, invisible force.

if it weren’t for Sangho, you weren’t sure how you would have survived these past weeks. he was the only one who visited, the only one who still checked in. your friends had gradually disappeared, maybe busy with their own lives, or maybe they just didn’t know how to deal with your constant sadness. and your parents, living too far away to visit regularly, could only call. but Sangho… he had stayed. every night, he brought food, sat with you in the quiet, and listened when you had the energy to talk.

you were grateful. grateful for his steady presence, for the fact that he hadn’t abandoned you like everyone else seemed to.

you heard the familiar knock at the door just as the rain grew heavier outside, the dull thud of raindrops on the windows now a constant, almost hypnotic sound. you stood up slowly, wiping your face, though you hadn’t realized you’d been crying again. Sangho was here.

opening the door, you were greeted by his familiar, calm face. his expression softened when he saw you, concern filling his eyes. “you haven’t been sleeping, have you?” he asked quietly, stepping inside and setting down a plastic bag of food. scent of warm takeout filled the room, a welcome distraction from the cold, lifeless atmosphere that seemed to cling to everything.

“i guess not,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. you felt like a shell of yourself, too tired even to fight the exhaustion. “thanks for coming again, Sangho. i don’t know what i’d do without you…”

his lips curved into a small smile, though there was something darker behind it that you were too weary to notice. “you don’t have to thank me. i’m glad to be here.”

he moved into the kitchen, unpacking the food with practiced ease, like this was routine now. and in a way, it was. time to time, he’d show up, bringing food, keeping you company while the world outside your window seemed to disappear under the heavy rain.

as you sat on the couch, staring at the steaming containers of food, you realized how much you’d come to rely on him. his presence was the only thing keeping you grounded, the only thing that felt real in the haze of your grief. you didn’t have the energy to reach out to anyone else anymore, and they didn’t seem to be trying either.

“Sangho,” you started, your voice soft and hesitant. “you’ve been coming here almost every day. i just… i feel like i’m leaning on you too much.”

he looked up, a gentle smile on his lips, but his eyes flashed with something unreadable. “you’re not. you need someone, and i’m ready to be that person for you. after everything, it’s the least i can do.”

you smiled weakly, your heart twisting with both gratitude and guilt. “i don’t know how to repay you…”

he walked over to you, sitting down beside you on the couch, close enough that you could feel his warmth. “you don’t need to repay me,” he said softly, his voice low and soothing. “i’m doing this because i care about you. and Maheyon wouldn’t want you to be alone.”

Maheyon. his name still hurt, still brought the sting of tears to your eyes. you nodded, swallowing down the lump in your throat. “i miss him,” you whispered. Sangho’s jaw tightened ever so slightly, but his voice remained calm. “i know. but i’m here too. you don’t need to keep thinking about him.”

you blinked, confused by the sudden shift in his tone. “what do you mean?”

he leaned closer, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your stomach twist. “i mean that you’re not alone. you have me. you don’t need to keep clinging to someone who’s gone when i’m right here.”

his words sent a ripple of unease through you, but you dismissed it, telling yourself that he was just trying to help. after all, he was right. Maheyon was gone, and you were still here, trying to piece together the shattered remains of your life. Sangho was the one who had stayed. the only one who had stayed.

“i’m not trying to forget him,” you said softly, lowering your gaze. “it’s just hard to let go.”

“you don’t have to let go all at once,” Sangho replied, his voice suddenly gentle again, as if sensing your discomfort. he reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “just let me help you through this. you’ll feel better if you stop thinking about him so much.”

the way he said it made it sound so simple, so reasonable. and you wanted to believe him. you were so tired of feeling this way, so tired of the pain, the loneliness. maybe Sangho was right. maybe if you just stopped thinking about Maheyon so much, you could finally move on...

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hours passed as the rain drummed on, and your head eventually fell against his shoulder, exhaustion finally overtaking you. good, he thought. you needed rest, needed to stop thinking so much. thinking about him.

when your tear-stained eyes finally closed and your breathing deepened into the soft rhythm of sleep, Sangho stayed still for a moment, just watching you. you were so fragile, so beautiful, clinging weakly to the fabric of his shirt as if he were your anchor. his ego boosted with pride at the thought — you didn’t even realize how much you needed him now, how completely you depended on him.

but there was still one problem. Maheyon. ghost that haunted your every thought. every time you cried, it was for him. every time you seemed lost, it was because of him.

carefully, Sangho shifted you from his lap, laying you gently against the couch cushions. his eyes lingered on your sleeping form for a moment, the soft rise and fall of your chest, your lips slightly parted as you breathed. he almost wanted to kiss you right then, to claim you in a way Mahyeon never could. but no. not yet. he had to be patient.

Sangho stood, his gaze shifting around your apartment. it was truly your place, lived-in, but to him, it was polluted. everywhere he looked, there were reminders of Maheyon — photographs of the three of you from past competitions, souvenirs from trips abroad when you were all together, little things that held too much meaning, things that kept you tethered to a memory that should have been long dead.

a photo on the shelf caught his eye. you, Maheyon, and Sangho standing together, smiling after a big win at a cycling competition in Japan. Sangho remembered that day well, but not for the same reason you did. back then, you had admired Maheyon, looked at him like he was some kind of hero. and Maheyon had basked in it, clueless, while Sangho watched from the sidelines.

Sangho's jaw clenched, a cold rage building beneath the surface.

without a second thought, he picked up the photo frame, turning it over in his hands. his fingers traced the edges of the glass, his heart pounding with anger as he stared at Maheyon’s face. slowly, deliberately, he placed the frame back on the shelf — face down. it wouldn’t be there the next time he visited. one piece at a time. one memory at a time. he would erase Maheyon from your life, remove every trace of him until you forgot he ever existed.

satisfied, Sangho moved to the small table near the couch. there was a little trinket — a souvenir from that same trip, a gift from Maheyon. it had been with you for years, something you always kept close. but not anymore.

with practiced ease, Sangho slipped the small souvenir into his pocket. it wasn’t the first thing he’d taken. over the past few weeks, he had been quietly removing pieces of Maheyon from your apartment, exchanging them for little gifts of his own. new vase here, a framed photo of just the two of you there. you never noticed. how could you? you were too lost in your grief, too dependent on him now to care about such small changes. but those small changes added up.

he reached into his bag and pulled out a new gift — a delicate necklace, simple but elegant. he placed it carefully on the table where the souvenir had been, his lips curling into a satisfied smile. every time you looked at it, you’d think of him. not Maheyon. Sangho been patient. he knew it was only a matter of time before you realized how much better your life was with him in it. and when that time came, you would be his. completely.

as he returned to the couch, he sat down beside you again, watching you sleep. his fingers brushed against your hair, tenderly, lovingly. you belonged to him. you just didn’t know it yet.

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you woke to the sound of the rain, the world around you still dark, still gray. your head felt heavy, your thoughts sluggish as you tried to remember when you fall asleep. then you felt it — Sangho’s presence beside you, his hand resting gently on your arm.

“hey,” he said softly, smiling down at you. “you fell asleep. i didn’t want to wake you.”

you blinked, rubbing your eyes as you sat up. your body ached with the weight of your exhaustion, but Sangho’s presence, as always, made you feel just a little lighter. “thanks for staying,” you softly murmured, grateful for the comfort of having him there. “i don’t know what i’d do without you...”

his smile widened, but something flickered behind his eyes, something dark. “you don’t have to worry about that. i’m not going anywhere.”

you smiled weakly, still too tired to notice the subtle shift in the room, the way something felt... different. you glanced at the table where something familiar small had once sat, but your eyes landed on a new necklace instead — a gift from Sangho, no doubt. you didn’t remember moving the old trinket, but it didn’t matter. you didn’t have the energy to question it.

Sangho watched as you stare at the table, your still groggy from the nap eyes blinking up, reaching for his gift. he couldn’t help but smile. you looked so unaware like this. so vulnarable.

you tried to sit up, your body still heavy with sleep, and as you moved, your hand brushed against his thigh. the innocent touch sent a jolt through Sangho, a thrill he hadn’t expected. he froze, his eyes darkening as his mind raced. the thought came unbidden. you were so close, so fragile, and the way you unconsciously leaned into him, trusting him — it made his blood run hot.

he couldn’t take it anymore. weeks of patience, weeks of restraint. late-night visits, the careful words, the slow dismantling of everything that tied you to Maheyon and past life. he’d been so good, so careful. but seeing you like this, vulnerable and unaware, stirred something primal in him.

before he could stop himself, Sangho leaned in. his hand slipped behind your head, fingers threading through your hair as he gently tilted your face up toward him. his gaze locked onto your lips, and for a second, his breath caught. he needed you.

and then he kissed you.

it wasn’t a soft kiss — not the way he had planned. no, this was desperate, hungry. his lips pressed hard against yours, and his hand tightened in your hair, pulling you closer, almost as if he was afraid you might disappear if he let go. he could taste the salt of your tears from earlier, could feel your soft gasp of surprise as your lips parted beneath his. but you didn’t pull away, not immediately.

for a brief, dizzying moment, he thought you would give in. that you would melt into him, let him consume you the way he had always wanted. his free hand moved to your waist, fingers grazing the soft skin just above your hips, feeling the warmth of you through the thin fabric of your shirt and you felt a shiver of something unfamiliar — something that made your skin tingle with a strange mix of heat and fear. his grip tightened, his fingers possessive as they pulled you closer, towering over your figure, and his kiss deepened, more forceful, more demanding than anything you had ever imagined coming from him.

your heart pounded in your ears, panic rising as you realized what was happening.

finally, you pulled back, breaking the kiss with a soft gasp, your hands coming up instinctively to push against his chest. look in his eyes was wild, dark — something you had never seen before. for a moment, you were frozen, your mind racing, trying to piece together what had just happened.

and then, he felt it too — a tremor in your body, a hesitation. and reality crashed back in. Sangho blinked, his breath shallow, heart racing as he realized what he’d done. his lips still tingled from the kiss, the taste of you lingering in his mouth, but something cold settled in his chest. he wasn’t supposed to do this — not like this.

“i-i…” you stammered, your voice trembling, unsure of what to say. your mind was spinning. this was Sangho. your friend. the one person who had been by your side past all this hard time. but the way he had kissed you — it didn’t feel like friendship. it felt like something much more intense, something you didn’t know how to process.

and the way he was looking at you now… it scared you.

he looked at you, saw the confusion and — was that fear? — in your eyes. his stomach twisted. too soon. he’d lost control.

“i’m sorry,” he said quickly, his voice softer now, trying to keep the panic from showing. he reached out to touch your arm, but you flinched. the movement was small, barely noticeable, but Sangho felt it like a punch to the gut. no, no, no. don’t be scared of me.

“I didn’t mean to… it just… i got caught up in the moment,” he lied, forcing a smile that he hoped looked apologetic. inside, his mind was racing. you weren’t ready yet. he had been so careful, so patient, and now he had almost ruined it. but he could still fix this. he just had to pull back, make you trust him again.

“i-i just wasn’t expecting that,” you said softly, your voice trembling with embarrassment. your cheeks were flushed, and you couldn’t meet his gaze for more than a few seconds. “Sangho… we’re friends... you’ve always been my friend. i didn’t think…”

“Of course, it's okay” Sangho said quickly, swallowing down the dark frustration bubbling up inside him. your hands fidgeted in your lap, and you gave a small, awkward nod.

Sangho forced another smile, though his insides churned with impatience. it wasn’t okay. none of this was okay. but he held back, telling himself this was a minor setback. he could still play the long game. you were still dependent on him, still clinging to him for support. he just had to be more careful, more patient.

not for much longer, though.

“let’s just forget about it,” Sangho said, his tone gentle. “we can go back to the way things were. i don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

you smiled weakly, still embarrassed, and nodded. “yeah… thanks...”

as you leaned back against the couch, closing eyes to calm your nerves, you couldn't notice how Sangho's lips curled a little.

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author's note ; I FINALLY FINISHED IT!!! I THINK THIS FIC WAS IN DRAFTS FOR 5(??) MONTH!! BUT I FINALLY DID IT OMGG🥸

MASTERLIST

[thenightisland]

in various conversations with my doctor about the insane life changing effect adhd meds have had on me one of the things he said was that it's not uncommon for people who have dysthymia/pervasive depressive disorder to have undiagnosed adhd at the root of the problem. and i think we forget that like. major depressive disorder is supposed to be something that eventually stops. it's episodic. like even people with depression very often are not in a state where it's just like. every day is a misery virtually nonstop for 15+ years. but with dysthymia/pdd it very much so is. which you can have pdd and mdd both at the same time too which is evil but anyway. it is wild enough conceptualizing that there is in fact a difference between the two things bc i very much so got depressed around age ten and just. never stopped. and when you live like that for the bulk of your life you just sort of get used to it? like it sucks but you just assume a degree of that is normal. so even on several antidepressants i never once aimed for "not depressed" i was always aiming for "mildly less miserable" i had just accepted that i would always be a degree of miserable and that my default was going to be feeling bad and if i was very lucky there might be a few days where i felt a little less bad now and then. the goal was "bearable misery" which is nuts to type out like wow! bleak!

anyway something i noticed when they started me on the adhd meds was that all the Racket in my head just. stopped. for weeks i just said to people "it's so quiet in there" because i didn't have dozens of loud competing fast thoughts all the time. and it took a while to pin down why this effect made me less depressed and worked better than literally any antidepressant had. and it's bc it /stopped thoughts/ and when i was depressed the Thoughts did not stop and they were not pleasant ones so i'd get stuck in these awful mental doom spirals and nothing i did would make it stop. and then this medicine made it stop. and it turns out it's much easier to not be sad when your brain doesn't have the Sad Channel turned up to high volume and is forcing you to deal with it clockwork-orange style. bc historically it was like oh god do we really have to do this again do we have to listen to the you will always be alone and unloved and nothing you do will ever be enough and your life will never be fulfilling in any way spiral again?? do we really have to i'm so tired. but now that channel is muted. a lot of channels have been muted. no amount of cbt/dbt techniques or various other therapy tactics had ever managed to mute those channels before.

and it's just insane it's like the thing about how stunned people with chronic pain are to learn that the normal amount of pain for someone to experience on an average day is none. it's just that but emotionally. bc even with the challenges i still have for autism reasons, most days now i'm fine. the emotional pain is zero on an average day. i now understand what people mean when they say "i'm having a bad day" bc there's a difference. but you see. all my days used to be bad. all of them. even the "good" days involved a degree of visceral emotional suffering and dread. and you don't realize how pervasive the bad is until the bad is the exception and not just an ordinary day.

i do not sit around consumed by the same thought patterns and doom spirals and mental quicksand now i'm just going about my day like an ordinary person and it's amazing how much less life /hurts/ and that's the only way i can think to put it is that every day used to hurt and it doesn't hurt now. past-me was incapable of conceptualizing a life where my baseline wasn't "profoundly and painfully sad and aching at all times" i was 100% prepared to just live like that forever!!!! and now if i have a bad day that's all it is an outlier i thought people in movies were just doing a bit when they had a "bad day" and the solution was just have a big piece of cake and cry a little and go to bed early and you'll feel better tomorrow bc i never felt better tomorrow! now i just feel better tomorrow if i have a bad day! most days the emotional pain scale is a 0/10.

like this is so long already but those of you who have been around for a long time you know how nuts this is for me. and i'm a firm believer in everything happens for a reason even bad things and for a few years i've been like huh wonder what the reason is for the whole getting beaten in the head thing though. well. it exacerbated the working memory issues. and it got on my goddamn nerves. so i asked to try this medicine so i could remember to get my soup out of the microwave. and then it fixed all the problems that have plagued me since i was a small child. and now i'm able to conceptualize a day to day life that isn't just Hurting all the time when i once thought i would never do anything but hurt.

[officialleehadan]

Writing Pregnancy

Hello darlings. I've been thinking about writing this for a while, and it seems useful to a lot of people who are planning to Baby or who have characters who are planning to, or currently are, Babying.

It's not exactly a story, but y'all seem to like these essays from time to time, so I hope this one is interesting too.

So here it is. A guide to being pregnant as written by someone who has recently done it, for writers who have not or will not do it themselves.

This post will be broken down by weeks, because that’s how medical people do it, and also because some of this stuff really doesn’t happen by month.

DISCLAIMER: Every pregnancy is different. Your mileage may differ, maybe a lot. This is based on my pregnancy and is written as a handy reference for people who haven't done this themselves.

An important note, doctors count pregnancy as having begun AT THE DATE OF THE FIRST DAY OF YOUR LAST PERIOD unless there are extenuating circumstances such as an extremely unreliable, or nonexistent period. If this is the case, they will judge it based on your first ultrasound (8 weeks or so) or by when morning sickness kicks in (6-10 weeks) depending on the tech level your character is facing.

Be aware, this guide will be fairly explicit and will talk about the squishy bits, since they’re pretty involved in this whole business. If you keep reading and discover the horrible truth, that pregnancy is profoundly icky in many ways, I warned you.

Anyway, on to the fun part!

FAQ:

I am in my early-mid 30s (early when newly pregnant, older now obviously) when I was pregnant. I am in sound, but not neurotypical, mental health, and good physical health. I do not have major allergies or food issues other than caffeine which I am allergic to. (This is also relevant. More on this later.) I have some notable back problems which will be noted here because they’re relevant too. This pregnancy was planned and I have a wonderful and extremely supportive spouse (husband) who is the baby’s biological father. I also work a lot, but from home, which very much altered my experience

Week One: FIRST TRIMESTER

Technically speaking, right now, you’re probably menstruating and not actually pregnant at all. This will feel like a normal period, because that’s what it is. You’re not pregnant yet. Business as usual. If you were planning to get pregnant, you’re already on prenatal vitamins.

Week Two:

Congrats! You got laid! You still feel normal because implantation hasn’t happened yet. You’re still not technically pregnant. Just horny. Get it while it’s hot. If this pregnancy was an accident, or you’re trying to get pregnant, you’re not eagerly awaiting the point where you can test to know for sure.

Week Three:

Okay this is where you might see your first symptoms if your cycle is very regular, like mine is, and you’re watching your body closely for “that’s new” stuff. In my case, my boobs started swelling like they do when I’m on my period, except I was two weeks out from my period. Cue “huh, I might be pregnant” montage.

Week Four:

If you can test and you’re using the good home tests, or you’re in a hospital, this is probably when you test positive for pregnancy. Congrats!

Cue the “oh crap I’m pregnant??” Montage. (Yes this will happen even if you wanted it, planned it, and were actively trying to get pregnant. There will be some panic. You very likely will consider getting an abortion even if you’re eager and wanting the pregnancy. Don’t beat yourself up. This is normal.)

Week Five:

If your cycle is reasonably regular, this is when you’re gonna miss your first missed period. If you knew you’re pregnant, this is cool! Menstruation sucks. Not having your period for nine months is one of the best parts of pregnancy. If you didn’t know you’re pregnant, you’re probably panicking about now and buying a home test.

The ClearBlue digital ones are good and they’re in most pharmacies. Get those ones. Buy your prenatals at the same time. If you don’t want them, you don’t want them, but if you do want them, making a second trip is annoying. Also consider taking D3, calcium, fiber gummies, and fish oil. They all support you and baby health and keep the pregnancy from taking more of the nutrients form your body than you can spare.

Week Six:

You feel like you should feel different and don’t, and it’s weird. For those with a longer, or irregular cycle, this might be where you hit the stuff from Week Five. If you’re having the boob inflation like I did, that’s still happening. Buckle up. It’s not gonna stop. Otherwise, you feel weirdly normal. For a character who doesn’t have access to good sex education, they may not even know they’re pregnant yet.

Week Seven:

Basically the same as Week Six. You feel like you should feel different, and don’t. It’s uncommon, but you might start feeling morning sickness around this point. It’ll start as vague nausea and food aversions. This will get worse.

Week Eight:

Your first ultrasound! Congrats! It looks like a gummy bear that twitches! If you have twins, it may or may not be detectable at this point. You can’t tell the sex yet. It’s a gummy bear. If you don’t get an ultrasound for reasons of fictional story, you still might not know you’re pregnant. If you’re going to get an abortion, this is the last chance in many places.

Week Nine:

So It Begins. The morning sickness. You have food poisoning all the time. You feel profoundly like hell and may be prone to puking, and still being hungry, so you go back and keep eating, because you need the calories. This is also when you start getting thirsty all the time. This is because you gain more than half again your blood volume while pregnant. You need that hydration to make blood and amniotic fluid for your baby.

I found ice cream bars with nuts to be very good for dealing with morning sickness, and ginger did absolutely nothing at all. I basically lived on tea for a while there.

Week Ten:

Congrats. You feel like crap basically all the time. My morning sickness was pretty mild and I was puking almost every day. More if I hit a trigger food, which for me was anything that tasted or smelled ‘green’ (zucchini especially but cucumber and most leafy greens too) ‘water smell’ (showering, rain, humidity in general) and the usual ick smells (the trash).

You’re also tired all the time. Naps R Us. If you get flat and comfortable, you’re gonna fall asleep. If you’re flat and uncomfortable you might fall asleep. If you’re reasonably supported and upright you might fall asleep. Just assume you’re gonna be sleeping a lot.

If you’re writing a character with morning sickness, they’re likely to be very cuddly, but also very reluctant to go more than a very quick jog to the toilet.

The good news is that this is also when the major risk of miscarriage is over, and is frequently when people tell their families they’re expecting. Cue lots of celebrations!

Week Eleven:

“What the crap did I get myself into?”

Week Twelve:

“When is this crap gonna go away?”

Your baby is moving now, but you can’t feel it at all. You’ll see it in the ultrasounds however, which is neat.

Week Thirteen: SECOND TRIMESTER

“I have been eating soup and applesauce for FOUR WEEKS and I want Mexican but refried beans went Badly.”

it’s not uncommon to get a UTI at this point because you’re peeing a lot and it’s tough to stay clean because water smell makes you puke. Your doctors will take this uncomfortably seriously. You will get The Good Antibiotics, not the piddly crap they usually give out.

You will also now have very strong opinions about what sucks to puke up, as dictated by your nose, which has opinions about everything. You will have safe foods. Unfortunately for you, you’re just about past needing them.

Week Fourteen:

“I want a sandwich with deli meat, and a whole plate of sushi, and I can’t have either of them. This sucks.”

If you gave up caffeine, this is where that will really get hard. If you were already caffeine free, like I was, you’ll be jonsing for stuff you’re not allowed to have, like raw fish and deli meat. Be strong, but if you waver, it probably isn’t the end of the world. 

I’m told this is where cravings kick in, but I didn’t get anything notable, so I don’t know.

Week Fifteen:

This is about the time you kind of start feeling better. They say morning sickness starts improving around Week Thirteen, but for me it was longer. The napping is still a thing, so just be okay with that. This also when I started to show. That really depends on body type. I went into pregnancy carrying a little extra weight because I knew I would lose some during morning sickness (I lost nine pounds and mine wasn’t that bad. Be aware.) so it took a little longer for me to show.

More interestingly, you can actually feel your uterus now. It’s kind of like a grapefruit below your belly button. It will grow. You will be very curious about it the whole time

Week Sixteen

“Hey, I kind of feel better now!”

You have energy again. It’s novel. You can do chores and drive, and generally be a person. It shouldn’t be as exciting as it is, but here we are. Time to decorate the nursery if you have one, and to put together a whole bunch of stuff. It’s also a good time to clean up the ‘first trimester disaster’ that is your comfy spot and the mounds of crap around it.

Week Seventeen:

Still napping a lot, but almost feel human. Watch out for the Icks (your pregnancy sensitivities, like ‘green’ for me, which didn’t go away for my whole pregnancy) but you can actually take a shower without puking in the shower now! Scented products may or may not bother you later, but you’ll want them after you give birth. I threw away my shower gel after it made me sick and I regret it now.

Week Eighteen:

“Wow, I have a Baby Bump!” Cue walking around with your hand in your belly so everyone knows you’re pregnant OR wearing your biggest baggiest clothing to hide it and still feeling like it’s super obvious.

Week Nineteen:

There’s a fair chance you felt your baby move at this point, but unfortunately you’re also farting enough to fill the Hindenburg and this early any kicks feel like gas. Stay away from open flames and you’ll be okay.

Week 20: HALFWAY DONE!

Anatomy scan! This is your second ultrasound and the one where you might find out the sex of your baby. This is also where they’ll look for birth defects and genetic conditions. You may also do a blood test here which can also screen for genetic issues, and problems such as RH incompatibility, which is totally treatable with modern science but could kill a baby in a more medieval story.

Note: you may not find out the gender at this or any point until birth. My little girl got her nickname of Wiggles because she was doing cartwheels and the tech couldn’t get a good look between her legs. We didn’t find out her gender until she was born.

If you do find out, and this is crucial, DO NOT tell anyone but your partner what the sex is, or what names you’re considering. Everyone has opinions and all of them suck. Lie through your teeth about not knowing, or just tell them you want it to be a surprise. Do anything but tell them what they want to know. You will regret it if you do

Week Twenty-One:

“Holy crap that was intense. Definitely a kick!”

This is called the ‘quickening’ and for a fantasy character, will be one of the big ‘you’re really pregnant’ signs, because miscarriage is common. At twenty weeks, that risk is much less, which is a huge relief. Plus, now you’re getting kicks, which are all kinds of fun. It’s your first chance to really interact with the person you’re building inside you!

Week Twenty-Two:

“I need to clean the whole house right now everything is dirty I might rearrange the living room.

Welcome to nesting. It doesn’t go away. Use it to your advantage and clean whatever needs cleaning. Don’t judge yourself for starting and not finishing a project. You’re burning everything you have. Shame isn’t welcome here.

A fantasy character may start cleaning if they’re poor, or making baby clothing.

Week Twenty-Three:

Okay here’s where I started having problems. I have hypermobile ribs and mild scoliosis in my lower spine, these together mean a lot of back pain over the years, which I am very familiar with and which is annoying at best and debilitating at worst.

The issue? Pregnancy comes with a huge dose of the natural chemical relaxin. As the name implies, this softens up your tendons, among other things. If you have hypermobility already, get ready for a whole range of fun new ways to pop your bones out of place.

The worse issue? During pregnancy, you’re not allowed any painkiller but Tylenol. If you’re like me and hyper resistant to most pain meds, you might as well be popping tiktacs for all the good Tylenol will do for you.

Buy a heat pad (NOT A BLANKET, you cannot overheat right now) it will help.

If you tell your medical professionals about this back pain, they will freak out and want to get your kidneys tested, because asymptomatic UTIs can turn into kidney infections very quickly during pregnancy and can get very serious very quickly. If you are familiar with your particular brand of back pain, have the “Chronic Pain and You” conversation with your doctor early. The earlier the better. They still won’t give you anything better than Tylenol, but they probably won’t try to test your kidneys unless you pop a fever

Week Twenty-Four:

Kicking! Those are real kicks! Holy crap! Kicking!

This is so much fun, but it's also pretty unreliable. Baby will kick when it pleases them, not when you want to show someone else, and it'll be sporadic, even until the very end.

You may be getting Braxton hicks contractions. They don’t hurt, but they make your belly tense up, which is amusing. Also, when you orgasm, your uterus will get all hard. It does this normally, you just can’t usually feel it. It might freak you out a little. Coincidentally you will be horny enough to hop aboard just about anything that holds still long enough. Get a willing partner and/or a very fine collection of sex toys and be prepared to spend a lot of time taking yourself in hand.

Week Twenty-Five:

Your Dr appointments now happen every two weeks unless they’re worried about something. Also, buy a really comfortable pair of slip on shoes. Your time of being able to reach your feet is coming to an end and you’re gonna want them. Pro: maternity clothing is super soft and comfy and you’re gonna be delighted to wear it. It does tend to come in an unfortunate variety of ‘little house on the preggo’ floral patterns with demure necklines, but there’s some good stuff out there

Week Twenty-Six:

The Eater Beast Appears. You’re hungry all the time. No really. All the time. Constantly. Nuts are good for a snack. I ate a lot of peanut butter and apples. You may be having cravings. If so, lean into them. Have fun with it. This is the good part of your pregnancy.

Plus side, EVERYTHING tastes good!

Week Twenty-Seven

You REALLY look pregnant now. People will start asking when you’re due and giving you bad advice. Don’t murder them. You can probably get away with it, but cleaning up all that blood is hard when you can’t actually get off the ground without help anymore.

Week Twenty-Eight: THIRD TRIMESTER

Final ultrasound and gestational diabetes testing. The ultrasound is fun because Baby looks like a baby now! Holy crap! There’s a whole person inside you! You contain twice the usual number of bones! If you’re having a boy, you have in fact grown a pair.

My baby had a tiny little heart defect, so we talked to a specialist at this point. Try not to freak out if this happens. Defects like that are very easy to fix, and often go away on their own as my girl’s did.

The diabetes testing is different for everyone. They’ll have you drink a glycerin drink (get the orange flavored one. It’s reasonably inoffensive and you have to chug the stuff) and will test your blood to see how you react to the sugars. Don’t freak out if it’s positive. Most of the time gestational diabetes goes away after birth. If you’re borderline, they’ll test you again but for three hours rather than one.

The glycerin drink made me really sick and I refused to do the three hour testing. They will get very grumpy if you do this, however, you can buy a diabetic testing kit and track your blood sugars four times a day for a week instead, and they’ll accept that too. (Don’t get the one they prescribe. The Contour Next is cheap, reliable, easy to use, and doesn’t cost $200)

They might want you to change your diet and exercise. You will want to murder them for this. Don’t do it. Go for the damn walks and eat less carbs. It will kind of suck, but it’s for your baby, and it isn’t permanent.

Week Twenty-Nine

Return of the Nap Demon. You will sleep SO MUCH. Let it happen. Your body is working hard to build another person. Have mercy on yourself. Eat. Be okay with the weight gain. A lot of it is the baby inside you and your placenta, and the fluid you need to support them both. You need the calories.

Also, LACTATION! This is when two more of your orifices, which previously did not leak, start to leak. This too, will get worse. You can save the colostrum for your baby though, which can be helpful.

Week Thirty:

The Final Countdown. You’re ten weeks off your due date and if you haven’t already, you need to figure out how and where you want to give birth. Talk with your midwives and doctors. If you’re high risk, they won’t want you to give birth outside a hospital. This will feel crappy, but is honestly the safest choice provided you’re willing to tell doctors to piss off when needed. Start figuring out your birth plan. Talk to other expecting parents.

Week Thirty-One:

“Ugh, I’m huge.”

At this point, your character absolutely is not getting on a horse without a lot of help, and cannot ride for long regardless without serious discomfort or even pain. A fall could mean losing the baby, or a serious injury, and the undercarriage is not gonna handle having that much weight on it for long without protestations.

Week Thirty-Two

“Why am I crying? I’m not actually upset about anything and yet, I am hysterical.”

Warn your partner about this phase beforehand. They won’t believe how bad it’s gonna get, but the warning is still nice to have. Remind them that you warned them between bites of your favorite ice cream.

Week Thirty-Three:

Everyone you know who has baby stuff will try to give it to you. Be prepared to refuse whatever you don’t want. Be merciless or you will be flooded with broken baby crap you don’t want until you find some other poor soul to pawn it off on.

Week Thirty-Four:

You’ve been talking names, but now it’s time to decide for real. Try to follow this guide with your baby name options. Your kid will thank you for it.

1. Easy to say (no weird pronunciations)

2. Easy to spell (you are permitted ONE silent letter and no more)

3. Does not require explanation (Cultural names of a culture you’re not part of, especially)

4. Sounds good with middle and last name

5. Initials don’t spell something weird or stupid (Dora Indigo Kennedy sounds great, but the initials spell DIK)

6. Has agreeable nicknames (Elizabeth > Lizzy)

7. Isn’t a gimme for bullies to make fun of (Pubert)

8. Isn’t in the top 10 most popular names within the last five years. (Don’t want five of them in the same class)

9. Is not the name of someone you hate, even if it’s also the name of a family member. (obviously)

Follow these, and you will have a happy child who does not resent you for naming them something weird and messed up that no one can ever say or spell correctly, and which they have to explain every time they introduce themselves

Week Thirty-Five

You’re huge. You’ve just about reached maximum size and if your baby comes early at this point, they’ll probably be fine. This is immensely reassuring, because you have spent the last several months panicking about what if the baby comes early. Nightly baths are amazing. Also, your hair and nails will grow super fast right now, so be ready for that.

Week Thirty-Six:

Mobility is a serious issue. Stairs are hard. So are curbs. Getting into and out of a car is a Process and getting up off the couch or out of bed takes a While unless you have help. Your balance is screwed and you waddle now. You’re a real fall risk and that does change how you interact with the world.

You also probably can’t unload the laundry if it’s a top-loader, and you might not be able to do the dish washer either. Bonus! Less chores

Week Thirty-Seven:

Remember the Nap Demons? They’re back and they brought a friend. Heartburn Hell. It’s been bad for a while but it’s worse now. Skip the tums and go for something stronger.

Week Thirty-Eight:

Your craps are gone. Baby is due in fourteen days and you have given up on your good habits. You’re probably still walking, but only because Baby has their head lodged against your cervix and is trying to burrow out. People call this lightning crotch for a reason because it really feels like you have a taser lodged up there that gives you a shock now and then

On the plus side, baby kicks like crazy now and that’s both awesome and kind of uncomfortable. You can play with their feet and poke them, and they’ll probably have a favorite place to hang out in your belly. Pro tip, if baby just will not settle, get a hot pack and put it against the side where they hang out. They’ll curl up and go to sleep on it. Just make sure you don’t overheat.

If you think anyone this pregnant is doing much of anything except growl about how heavy they feel and eat, you’re wrong. Nobody is leading armies to war like this. Anyone trying to fight because their life is immediately in danger will probably lose because they are large, heavy, clumsy, and their center of gravity is toast.

Week Thirty-Nine:

The last rush of Nesting and it’ll be a bad one. You’re gonna try to do all kinds of stupid crap, like scrubbing the floors (you get stuck) climbing up ladders (you are a fall risk, get down) trying to drive places (you get dizzy, you should not be driving at this point) and trying to lift heavy stuff (absolutely not). You might try to paint your nursery or hang curtains. I tried to plant my whole garden. Don’t be me

Week Forty:

The Due Date Has Come. You’re now on baby-watch. You’re probably having a ton of Braxton Hicks, but the big difference between them and the real deal is pain. Braxton Hicks don’t hurt and real ones kind of feel like period cramps. How uncomfortable contractions are at first will really depend on how you handle pain.

Week Forty-One:

“What the hell do you mean I haven’t gone into labor yet?? Get this child out of me!”

Week Forty-Two:

“Crap. I’m just gonna be pregnant forever, huh? …oh crap. I think my water just broke.”

The usual questions:

Morning sickness:

So, morning sickness isn’t puking all the time. In fact if you’re puking more than once a day it’s a serious medical condition called hyperemesis gravidarum and sometimes requires medication

More commonly it’s a general sense of not feeling well, followed by brief but dramatic puking. Honestly, the closest analogy is really bad food poisoning when you can feel the puke coming, but it hasn’t come yet

During the morning sickness phase, you HAVE to eat. Not eating makes it so much worse, so it helps if you set a strict schedule of eating a snack or a small meal every two hours you’re awake, and as soon as you wake and right before bed. Apple sauce good. Doesn’t suck coming back up. Same with most soups. Avoid spicy, acids, and crunchy stuff. They’re all miserable coming back. Drink a LOT of water.

Scents will be a problem. Your sense of smell goes haywire and cranks up to 11. I’m practically noseblind and I could smell the apples in my kitchen from across the house. Normally this would be fun. During morning sickness, it means fun new ways to puke in exciting places. The smell difference between being inside and going outside is sometimes enough, and any of your trigger scents or flavors will get you reliably. Scented products are a hard no. Pack them away for now. You’ll want them later.

The hard part is that doing anything strenuous, like hanging out with friends or going to the grocery store, will make it worse for the days following. The exhaustion compounds. You absolutely can’t borrow from tomorrow’s spoons and trying to push yourself will just lead to being even worse off the next day. You HAVE to rest. It’s not optional and your body will enforce it on you.

It does help to get an essential oil you like and wear it in a diffuser. I used lavender, but any smell you like and which doesn’t smell like death to you will work. Make sure it isn’t touching skin. A lot of oils are caustic, and some are toxic.

Other than that, just try to ride it out. It doesn’t last.

Body changes:

It starts out slow and then lingers. You’ll feel like you should be showing way before you are, but once you hit your second trimester, it’s very obvious you’re pregnant, and one you hit the third trimester they can probably see you from space. You waddle. Your coordination goes down the tubes, you’re hot all the time, thirsty and hungry all the time, and exhausted a lot of the time.

You will also stink. Your BO will spike with your hormones and unfortunately, you will absolutely not want to bathe until the third trimester, when you want to be in the water all the time.

Your hair will, however, be awesome. Preggo hair is a thing. So is post-partum shedding, so be ready to shed more than three long-hair cats. It’s a thing. Unfortunately this does include your body hair, which will grow fast and thick. If it bothers you, you’re gonna be shaving a lot.

Here’s where it gets TMI, but if you’re writing a pregnant character or you’re pregnant/want to get pregnant yourself, you gotta know. There will be itching. You will not be able to shave your undercarriage at all after a certain point, so if it matters that much, you’ll need help. Your cooch will also smell different. Weird, but there it is.

Being in water helps immensely I spent a lot of my pregnancy in the bath and I strongly credit that for helping to support my back and ribs, which were not thrilled about the temporary tenant. It also helps with the ‘ugh I’m heavy’ complaint. Spend as much time in the water as you can, but remember not to let it get more than 100 degrees, or you can put Baby and yourself at risk. You have a lot more blood in your body right now. That makes for certain issues, such as fainting.

You will feel heavy. This is most notable during the third trimester, but when it becomes a problem, it really becomes a problem.

This is a problem because the only pain killer you’re allowed is Tylenol, and not much of that. If you’re in screaming pain, you can go totally hospital but they probably won’t give you anything for it. There’s a serious risk to your baby; and while they won’t prioritize the baby over you, you’re the one who is driving the bus, so they’re gonna make you obey the metaphorical traffic laws.

Labor:

Game day. You’ve been waiting for this for nine months and thank anything holy it’s finally here.

It starts as little flutters that kind of feel like gas, and you’ll probably be farting a fair bit anyway because you have a baby squishing your organs in every direction. After a while, it’ll start to feel more like cramping, and that’s when you know it’s game day. You start timing them at that point, and here’s where Hollywood starts messing up.

Labor is slow.

I was contracting for about ten hours before my water broke. If you’re pregnant, buy the adult diapers. Just do it. Put them on as soon as you realize you’re in labor. What comes out of you when your water breaks is foul. It’s not water. It’s slime, and it’s stinky. Sometimes it’s brown. It’s never something you want on anything you’re planning to keep. The diaper will contain it and you will be GLAD.

So ten hours in, my water broke. This is the sign that it’s not false labor. You’re ready to rock and roll.

This is also where my story differs from most.

Generally, when your water breaks, you’re about ten hours from pushing. Those ten hours will suck, but the nurses are mostly really nice and you can kick the mean ones out without repercussion. If you don’t vibe with one, switch tjem out. You don’t have to keep a nurse you don’t like.

The contractions will get stronger and they will get more painful. The nurses will call them “intense”. That’s bullcrap. It hurts. If you want medication, you have options. Ask for them freely and without shame.

Pushing is kind of a blur. You’ll be on so many endorphins and probably an epidural, that you’ll be in a haze. You push with the contractions for best effect. You’re gonna poop. This is good. Means you’re pushing right. You absolutely will not care in the moment.

It will feel like it’s not progressing at all, but your support people are gonna be on the ball and they’ll give you updates. If you have an epidural, it helps. If not, breathe through it and ride the endorphins. The worst part is when the head isn’t entirely through the cervix and everything is stretching a whole lot. Once the head is in the channel and you’re making progress, it gets easier.

It still hurts a whole lot, even with the meds, but you honestly won’t care because your whole body is designed to do this thing, and it’s GONNA do it at this point, whether you want to or not.

As soon as the head is out, the rest of the baby follows, and it sort of feels like you’ve been gutted. Things because you pretty much have. Birthing the placenta is entirely secondary to your tiny new baby and getting sewn up if you tear is uncomfortable, but after everything else, pretty negligible. Also, new baby!

Afterwards:

So, postpartum recovery sucks. All those endorphins are gone, you’re no longer on pain meds, and you just squeezed a baby through your cooch. You probably have stitches, and everything hurts. Walking is hard and without help, it’s also dangerous. You’re a fall risk. Do not try to hold your baby and walk at the same time unless you absolutely must. That’s what your birth support person is for. If you don’t have one, they’ll provide one.

Peeing hurts. Pooping is worse. You will be passing blood clots and your underwear (remember, get the adult diapers. They’re way better) will look like that scene from The Shining with the blood tsunami. This is all normal but it’s pretty horrifying.

They will give you various products to help with recovery. Some work better than others. Use all of them. The compound effects help.

It will be about three weeks before you feel like you can pee without it hurting. It’ll be closer to six before you can poop without worrying. Either way, there will be some major changes to your squishy parts.

Me specifically:

Remember how I mentioned my story was different? Yeah. So I was in labor for 62 hours, and pushed for five of those before my daughter was born.

For most of it, it was just waiting for my body to get into gear, and then when I wasn’t progressing, for the pitocin to kick in. I didn’t want to be on pitocin, but I wasn’t going to risk my baby, and labor that long comes with some real risks to mother and baby.

I did have both fentanyl (which for reasons of my messed up biology doesn’t affect me at all) and an epidural, which did help, but was hindered by my scoliosis. (Having a curve in your spine makes it hard to put the needle in the right place).

I could have had a c section, but I was very against it and since we were doing okay, despite it taking a long time, they let me have a vaginal birth.

This is not normal and is a product of my messed up biology. Your experience may differ.

Breastfeeding:

Okay babies do not come out of the uterus knowing how to do this. They’re really bad at latching at first and it will take a few tries to get them to latch. Even then, if they have a high palate or a tongue tie, they may struggle to latch.

Even so, breastfeeding really is an incredible feeling of knowing nature built you so right that you can keep your whole baby alive with just what your body makes for them.

This can make breastfeeding hard, and even if they have a good latch, it kind of sucks for a while as your nipples get used to nursing and your milk comes in. You’ll produce colostrum for the first few days, and that will slowly turn to milk over a week or so.

Baby will need to eat basically every hour for the first few weeks, then every two hours, but in greater amounts. As they get better at feeding, it gets easier, but there’s no shame in using formula as a support for your milk. The goal is to keep the baby alive.

Once you’re both used to it, you can even nap pretty well while you feed, especially once you’re in bed. Just make sure there’s absolutely no risk of dropping or rolling on top of the baby.

Your Baby:

Here’s the good part. Babies are awesome! They’re cute, they’re fun, and they’re deeply entertaining to mess with. Make sure you have a basket of toys for your baby, and let the good times roll, even when things are hard. They’ll only be this small once, The tiny baby clothes feel too small until you put them on. I’m keeping all of mine. I don’t know what I’ll use them for, but they’re too cute to get rid of.

[marlynnofmany]

Digital Billboards and Bumper Stickers

I handed another can of food to Eggskin, thinking idle thoughts about skin and scale color. Neither of us were what I considered kindergarten-crayon colors, though I was somewhere in the white-brown-pink area while they were a yellow-green-white. Someday I’d ask them if they knew their scales were the color of human boogers (no I wouldn’t).

Really I was thinking about that to avoid reading the labels of the food, since most of them had my alien crewmates in mind, and looked profoundly unappealing to me. This stack was mostly bug paste. Some cans were shelled, and some unshelled. Flavored with the highest quality algae. Bluh.

“That’s the last of these,” I said happily, handing it over.

Eggskin placed it on the shelf and looked thoughtfully down at the counter still strewn with shelf-stable food. “Let’s do the seed paste next. Leave the herb stalks out; I’ll want to use them sooner than the rest.”

Following their pointing claw, I located the jars of peanut-butter-adjacent food, and the narrow boxes that I’d thought were spaghetti. “Got it.” I shoved the boxes aside and started passing the jars to Eggskin for placement. Reorganizing the shelves was a lot of work. I could see why they’d asked for assistance. At the very least, it would have gotten boring after a while.

Eggskin asked, “So what was the captain grumbling about just now?”

I thought back to when Eggskin had recruited my help from outside the cockpit. I’d only been there to bring Wio the water bottle she’d left in the lounge, but it had been long enough to pick up the gist of the conversation. “All the ships in this area have extra information on their ID’s, and they keep popping up as images overlaying the map, making it hard to see where everything is.”

Eggskin turned with the speed of a striking snake. “What area? Where are we going? I knew I should have checked the schedule.”

“I didn’t catch the name,” I said, but Eggskin was already racing for the door.

“Put away the jars, please; I’ll get the rest later!”

I paused for a moment, then hurried to put all the seed paste jars next to the cans of bug paste, labels forward and in neat rows. Then I ran after Eggskin.

When I arrived at the cockpit, I found our ship’s cook/medic with a hand on Wio’s chair, pointing something out to the captain.

Captain Sunlight sat in the copilot’s seat, frowning at the screen. Many colors reflected off her bright yellow scales, glowing from the mishmash of light that was normally a dark starfield. “If we make that much of a detour, we won’t be able to make the delivery on time. We’ll just have to go dark on communications until we get there.”

Eggskin made a concerned noise as Wio tapped several buttons with her tentacles. The room was suddenly darker as all the company logos and custom images blinked out of sight. The screen now held the usual blackness of space, speckled with stars — one close enough to be called a sun — and a variety of ships mostly heading to or from a distant space station shaped like a tube. There were also far more asteroids hanging around than I was entirely comfortable with.

But before I could ask about that, the music started.

I think it was music. “What is that?” I asked at the jumble of sound. It sounded like several radio stations at once, some playing recognizable instruments, some talking, and others making what sounded like rude noises.

In a tone of defeat, Eggskin said, “The ads and taunts can detect visual sensors. Some ships target outsiders in exactly our position: no time or money to buy a blocker.”

Wio made a rude sound of her own and turned the volume down.

Captain Sunlight was still frowning. “I don’t want to speak ill of anyone else’s way of life, but this is terrible.”

Eggskin gripped both chairs, eyes trained on the screen. “It’s one of many reasons why I left. You’ll want to keep that big ship between us and the station for as long as you can.” They pointed briefly. “Or else we’ll have a Core on our tail wanting to fine us for flying blind.”

“Terrible,” the captain repeated. But she instructed Wio to do as they said, while aiming for one specific asteroid that hadn’t come onscreen yet.

This seemed like a good time to ask. “Why are there so many asteroids this close to the station?”

Captain Sunlight flicked a glance at me, possibly only now noticing I was there in the doorway.

Eggskin answered without turning. “It was meant to be a tourist attraction, but the company got bought out and the project abandoned. Now half of the gravity engines are failing, and reputable businesses are leaving the area.”

Wio said, “It still looks awfully busy.”

“That would be the disreputable sorts. If you see a triangle where the stars disappear for a moment, fly at max speed in the other direction, never mind the delivery time.”

Captain Sunlight turned her frown on Eggskin. “It’s that extreme of a danger?”

The hands on both chairs tightened. “Yes.”

I studied the screen for any sign of disappearing stars. Black ships in the blackness of space were uncommon back in familiar territory, for the simple reason that they risked having someone crash into them and atomize both ships. But it sounded like someone here considered that a risk worth taking so they could sneak up on others. I didn’t ask what they did when they succeeded.

We spent a tense few minutes flying in silence, with no sign of invisible ships and only a few pop-ups. Apparently even flying blind couldn’t block all of them out. At least these were mostly informational things on the asteroids themselves, defunct notifications about events and attractions that had never been finalized.

One ship that looked cobbled together from spare parts had a blank panel above the thrusters that drew my eyes with how bright white it was. Eggskin stared at it intently. “This could be nothing,” they said, “But it could be important. Use a tight-beam scan for that panel.”

Wio did. As if the ship was just waiting for someone to look, it accelerated away and produced an image that glowed on our screen after it was long gone. The stylized pair of shapes were vaguely familiar.

While Eggskin made a disappointed grumble, I asked, “What is that? I’ve seen that symbol on the back of a racing ship.”

“I believe,” said Captain Sunlight, “It is an insult. A view of the bottoms of the pilot’s feet as they swim or fly away from you.”

“Oh,” I said. “Huh. I guess it’s like mooning someone. Or an ‘Eat my dust’ bumper sticker.”

Before anyone could ask what human nonsense I was talking about, Wio spotted the meeting location. “This one, right?” she asked the captain. “The mid-sized flat one?”

Captain Sunlight consulted a smaller screen. “That is where they said to meet. But they also said they would be here before us, ready to rush off as soon as they got our delivery.”

Wio and Captain Sunlight inspected the surrounding area for other ships, which all seemed to have left. I kept watching the stars, sparing a glance for Eggskin, who looked more intense than ever.

“Scan the landing area,” they said suddenly.

The message that popped up this time was a simple text one, in a language I didn’t recognize.

But Eggskin did. “Thought so. Send a tight-beam message back to open the drop box. This message.” They rattled off a string of numbers that Wio dutifully copied down and sent. I saw the captain also copy it onto her notepad with an expression that suggested she had some questions for Eggskin later.

Lo and behold, the flat part of the asteroid rolled back into an empty space that could have fit a ship larger than ours. The light of the distant sun showed it to be empty.

Captain Sunlight sat back, exasperated. “Where did they go?”

Wio said, “There’s a ship over there. Is that them?” She turned our view to show a speedy little junker careening between the asteroids toward us.

“I don’t think so,” the captain said. “Unless they had to use a different ship.”

A patch of stars behind it winked out. I pointed. “Invisible ship!”

Before Wio could hit the thrusters, Eggskin commanded, “Get in the drop box!”

Wio threw a glance at Captain Sunlight, who nodded. Wio sent our little courier ship diving into the secret hidey-hole, folding the solar sails and transmitting the other message Eggskin gave her to close the hatch.

It was very dark inside that drop box. I thought briefly about the rest of the crew, who had no idea how much danger they were in. I didn’t even know how much danger we were in. But I suspected it was a lot.

Eggskin said, “We should be safe after a few minutes. Given their trajectory, they were chasing that other ship. Even if they saw us, they’ll be busy.”

Wio asked, “These aren’t the people who will fine us, are they?”

“No,” Eggskin said firmly. “The Core will fine you, because they’re what passes for a police force out here. Spherical ships, like a planet’s core. That,” they said, pointing emphatically, “Was a Lancer. They will dismantle your ship, sell it for scrap, and sell you to a work camp. No, the Core won’t stop them. Yes, it’s terrible.”

The captain nodded. “One of the many reasons why you left.”

“Yes.”

“Well, we very much appreciate your expertise today!”

“I’m just glad I realized where we are,” Eggskin said. “I’ll make a point of checking the schedule more regularly.”

“And I will make a point of not accepting deliveries for this part of space, no matter how much they pay,” the captain said wryly.

We sat there a little while longer, until Eggskin said it was safe to open the hatch. All the stars were in place as we ventured out. Nothing moved, not even any drifting bits of dismantled ship. Good news.

But also bad news, since we still didn’t know where our client was.

“I will be extremely disappointed if all this risk was for nothing,” Captain Sunlight said. “Eggskin, are there likely to be other drop boxes nearby that they could have hidden in?”

Eggskin let out a breath. “If there are, I won’t know the codes for them.”

The captain made another note to herself, and told Wio to search the area for other likely asteroids. I did my part by continuing to watch the stars, just in case.

Wio said, “Most of these have a flat enough area to land on.”

Eggskin put in, “By design.”

“Should I turn the communications back on, to look for markers?” Wio asked. “There are no other ships over here to jam our screen.”

Eggskin muttered, “Optimistic.”

Captain Sunlight said, “Do it.”

The drifting space rocks were suddenly festooned with logos. It wasn’t as bad as before, but it wasn’t great. They were all old and glitchy.

Wio turned the volume up slightly, just enough to hear that any audio messages had dissolved into static. “If anybody spots something promising, sing out.”

We all watched the screen as Wio slowly toured the area. A couple of asteroids had newer pop-ups, but these were clearly graffiti: messages about how somebody was the envy of this half of the galaxy, or how whoever was reading the message should go stick their tail in a thruster.

“What species made most of this?” Wio asked.

“The original owners were Frillians,” said Eggskin. “Though that graffiti clearly wasn’t.”

“And what species is our client?” Wio asked the captain. “Or is it a mixed ship?”

Captain Sunlight glanced down at her notes, then up at me. “Human.”

Oh. No pressure. “I haven’t seen anything yet that looks particularly human-ish,” I said. “But I’ll look.” I gave up on the stars for now, and stared at the asteroids. “Are those two just extra flat, or do they have panels like that one ship did?”

Wio dutifully moved closer and scanned the two that I pointed out. One was a political slogan about something Waterwill-related from several years ago.

The other one was music. The volume was still quiet, but I recognized it. As Wio turned up the sound of synthetic drumbeats, I grinned at the old Earth anthem.

This asteroid was equipped with a rickroll.

“That’s a human thing,” I said. “Check that one.”

Wio took us closer, then she sent a short-range communication ping, the equivalent of knocking on the door.

And lo and behold, something pinged back and the door opened. A ship floated out that was sleek and aerodynamic, and painted in a camouflage pattern that did absolutely nothing to disguise it against the rock. I burst out laughing as Captain Sunlight hailed them to confirm that they were indeed the people we’d come to meet. I tried to laugh quietly.

With the drop box closed again, there was space for both small ships to land side by side. Theirs even had an extendable airlock that matched up with ours, saving everyone the inconvenience of getting into exo suits and doing the handoff in whatever atmosphere still clung in the artificial gravity.

I got to do the honors, with Captain Sunlight at hand close behind. I suspect she would have preferred to do it herself, but her little lizardy arms weren’t up to carrying a box this size, and there wasn’t space in the airlock for a hover sled. Simpler to just let the tall human do it.

The airlock opened to show a guy who looked malnourished, stressed, and very relieved to see me. “So glad you found us,” he said in an unfamiliar accent, grabbing the payment tablet before I could offer it. “It’s just one thing after another these days.”

“I bet,” I said. “Have you considered leaving? I have it on good authority that life is terrible around here.”

He handed the tablet back. “Thought about it. Dunno what we’d do for a living.”

I gave him the box, which according to the manifest included fresh chicken eggs, kosher salt, and a selection of media from Earth. “Have you considered a career as a courier?”

He smiled. “I’ll mention it to the crew.”

As he stepped back onto his own ship, I called, “Feel free to follow us out! We probably won’t get caught by anybody horrible on the way!”

I heard a chuckle as the door closed.

Once the airlocks were sorted away and everybody was back in position, Wio took us up from the asteroid, and back toward civilized space. I watched from the doorway while Eggskin kept an eye out for dangers. We made it out of the asteroid zone safely.

And so did the other ship, following close behind us.

~~~

Thanks to everybody who joined in the discussion of spaceship bumper stickers and related things, particularly @lillyjen and @voodootortoise!

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

[superectojazzmage]

X-Men works best, I feel, when writers understand on at least some level that it's really basically a cyberpunk/biopunk horror story that just happens to also be a superhero comic.

X-Men is the story of the world entering a new epoch where any random person on the street might randomly get superpowers - ranging everywhere from green hair to mind control - simply because they happened to win(?) a genetic lottery as part of a cosmic process programmed into humanity in ancient times by ineffable star gods. All around you are people who are ostensibly still people, but are also inhuman entities with alien powers who are gradually developing their own subculture that tells them they are the future dominant species destined to replace mankind. Many of them are just normal folks... but just as many see you the same way ancient homo sapiens saw neanderthals.

X-Men is the story of fear and hatred rising in the hearts of men in the face of that new epoch. Corrupt humans and mutants alike use bigotry and xenophobia to divide the two peoples, pushing them into a war not just for politics, but for evolution and the planet themselves. Mankind begins altering themselves and building machines of death to keep up with the mutants, in the process creating a third race of humanity; transhumans and robots, that in time come to be no different from the mutants, superpowered monsters of society's own making that see the humans as flatscan wastes of genes at best, oppressors to be destroyed at worst.

X-Men is the story of humanity fighting amidst themselves in their senseless darwinistic war while their world tumbles through a swirling universe of terrifying eldritch threats. Out in the stars and spiritual dimensions are alien empires once like us now advanced beyond comprehension, legions of magical wonders and nightmares in equal measure, lovecraftian machine hive minds that eat planets, demons that feast on our sin, cosmic entities that have as much in common with us as we do ants.

And above it all, X-Men is the story of how recognizing each other's humanity, of embracing love instead of hate, may be the only thing that ensures even a hope of survival in the face of the unimaginable, mind-breaking horror of a world entering a new era whether it's inhabitants like it or not... or perhaps, the only thing that decides whether or not we deserve to survive.

The best X-Men writers are the ones who recognize this. Chris Claremont, Johnathan Hickman, Grant Morrison, Kieron Gillen, etc.. The writers who recognize that there's something profoundly and utterly, existentially TERRIFYING about what the series really boils down to (a self-defeating war between mechanical and genetic evolution with normals caught in the middle that may be the extinction of all three races) and reflect that in the aesthetics and tone by emphasizing a cyberpunkish vibe.

Emphasizing that this is a world where people - willingly or not - alter their bodies like mechanics alter cars and any random person you see on the street might be a mutant or Sentinel or something that can kill you with a look, and that random person is probably hiding from something even worse that wants to kill them just for being born.

[zwhoreo]

A fic of Luffy and Reader first meeting please 😍🙏 ( I love how you write Luffy)

tysm !!! <33 this turned out so cute i think

meeting him - luffy x gn!reader

fluff

summary: while watching the ocean on your front steps one evening, you meet a boy named monkey d. luffy. he tells you about his life as a pirate, and teaches you how to skip rocks in the sea

words: 1.6k

________________________

Evening is just around the corner but the sky is still high enough over those clouds on the horizon that there’s warmth on your skin, golden and marinated. You’re sitting on the stone steps of your front garden and watching the waves crash on the white sand in the distance, because it’s warm enough that it’s still worth it to be here, letting the breeze weave your fingers.

Not many people are around at this time of night, the world is peaceful and still, but that’s why your head turns, in curiosity and focus, at the sound of wooden sandals on the sidewalk ahead, a heavy thwacking of aimless stumbling, the horizon bends with a silhouette of a boy walking down the cobble path and looking ahead, dazed, smiling over nothing.

You lock eyes. Large, brown, thoughtless and friendly eyes. You’re captivated and for some reason your heart folds in on itself in a way you can’t quite explain. His features are delicate, oddly beautiful in an unlikely sort of way, a hazel tan and greasy black hair blowing gently in the wind beneath an old, frayed straw hat. He looks like he’s been out at sea for a very long time, but although weathered he’s incredibly youthful, an older teenager, you think. He’s dressed like a pirate, you know this look well, they come into taverns drunk on cheap rum and leer at the young girls, picking fights, you didn’t think there were many good pirates left these days but something about this boy is so profoundly different. He’s not like anyone you’ve ever seen before, in some way you can’t place.

You watch him, keenly interested now, chin resting on your hands. Maybe this is why he comes up to you, crouching so close in front of you, no shyness present in his face. There’s an old scar under his left eye, tight and pale with age.

“Hiya!” His voice is raspy and loud. “You seen my crew anywhere?”

“Your crew? Mm, I don’t know. I haven’t seen anyone come by here for a while.” You find yourself talking differently than usual, not like you normally do with strangers, it’s something in your voice, your annunciation, that catches you off guard.

“Aw, really? There’s a lady with orange hair and this guy and he’s got green hair and three swords and-” He stops in the middle of a frustrated gesticulation when he sees your blank eyes. “Mm. Ok, I’ll go look in town.”

And just like that he gets up to leave. You’re saddened, but you find your words catching in your throat. Don’t leave.

But he pauses a few paces away, turning back after a brief consideration. “Hey, ya got any food? I’m real hungry.”

You look up, breath hitching. Yes, yes, this is something you can do. “Oh, yeah, I just baked some bread, actually. I’ll go get it if you wanna wait here.”

“Ooh! Sounds good. Hey, thanks!” he calls to you warmly, turning back, trotting to your front steps as you go inside.

The bread basket has been cooling on the windowsill, the crust is golden and steam wafts through the room and wets your hands as you pick it up to bring it to him. But when you come outside again he isn’t on your steps, or in your garden, you look around to find him but he isn’t anywhere, not until you step into the road and look over the rock embankment.

There’s the boy, he’s sitting in the white sand and playing with rocks, stacking them in lopsided towers with great intent. You smile when you see him. He isn’t gone. So you climb onto the beach and come to him, he grins casually, like you had been there all along, and his eyes light up when you set the bread in front of him.

“Ahh! This looks soo good!” Before his words are finished he’s already eating messily, he doesn’t care about the sand on his hands, he’s so focused.

You sit by him. You lean in, admiring his face, finally speaking, “I’m [name], by the way.”

“I’m Monkey D. Luffy!” he proclaims with enthusiasm, still not looking up. “It’s good to meet ya!” And he goes back to eating, as if this simple greeting has made you best friends and now everything is solved, but that name is familiar somehow and you like him so much already and you need to know more.

“Are you a pirate?” you ask with a tilted head.

“Mhm!” Luffy says through a mouthful of bread, “and I’m gonna be king of ‘em!”

“Pirate king, huh?” You raise your eyebrows, you’re charmed by him.

“Mm! Do you like the sea, [name]?” You feel like he’s been shifting closer to you, you hear him all around you now, his chewing remains consistent, loud.

“Yeah, I mean, it’s one of the prettiest things in the world,” you say honestly, the waves glitter in front of you, an infinite land-sky, glitter on pearl on galaxy-blue. Sunspots, stars, they twinkle on its surface.

“It’s real fun to be a pirate,” he chirps, finishing the bread and turning to you, his smile is gleaming and his voice is soft but gleeful.

“Yeah? What kinda stuff do you do out there?” You just want to hear him speak more, you realize.

“Ah man, everything! We go on tons of adventures, and we sing, and we get to make new friends wherever we go… and we look for treasure! We’re tryna find the One Piece!”

He returns your enchanted stare. He makes it all sound so easy, taming the cruel sea. His chest rises and falls, breaths heavy with excitement, his hands palm at the sand and hey, he’s really moving closer now, isn’t he? His eyes are so sparkly, it’s impossible to look away from him.

“Wanna skip rocks with me?” he asks before you have time to reply. He’s distracted so easily, reaching happily for his little tower, weighing the smooth gray stone in his hand.

Aren’t you looking for your crew? you want to ask. But you can’t let go of him yet, this mysterious, perfect boy. So instead you say, “sure, if you can teach me. I’m not great at it.”

“You live by the sea and ya can’t skip rocks?” Luffy laughs at you, tossing his stone into the sea with a snap of his wrist, it bounces once, twice, spinning in the air, a battle to fly from the ocean’s hunger, before it’s pulled beneath, disappearing into the surf.

Your hands touch as he gives you a rock, perfectly round and smooth, warmed from his palm. You throw it but your arm falters, it falls with a splash, gone before it could fly, a ripple of a memory left on the water, nothing more. Luffy laughs at you again.

“Nah, that ain’t it, you gotta flick your arm and keep it straight.” He moves close enough where you can feel his breath on your skin, hot and thick. “Mm,” he murmurs in your ear, voice low and ripe, “like this…”

He’s behind you, leaning against you, taking your arm and positioning you for the right sort of throw. His skin feels strange, like warm rubber, but your mind is so clouded with him, with his musky, overpowering scent and the tickle of his hair, you don’t notice much of anything. By accident, for the briefest moment, his salt-dried lips brush your shoulder, this is like lightning within you. But for Luffy this is nothing, it means nothing to him to be this close, it’s just what seems so natural.

You throw again, a smaller rock this time, aided by his hands on your arm. You’re so dizzied by his touch and you expect it to be even worse this time but to your surprise the rock skips once, a single heartbeat.

“See! Ya did it!” Luffy shouts joyfully, slapping you on the back, a little too hard, before pulling you in for a hug.

This is the best hug you’ve ever had. So tight, so warm, he buries his head in your shoulder, his weight nearly knocks you into the sand. You grab him back, by pure instinct, you want this closeness never to leave you.

But in an instant he’s pulled away again, unfazed by his own affection. He adjusts his hat carefully, looking back at the water, face content. He throws and skips one last stone.

“Mh, my crew’s prolly looking for me, huh?” Luffy stands up, dusting off his jeans, tilting his head at you. And then he offers you a hand, pulling you up with him, you’re face to face again and he places a hand firmly on your shoulder and says, “you can come if you want.”

“Huh?”

“On my crew. You can come be a pirate with me!” And again he has that way of saying things so simply. He doesn’t know you, how could he be so sure? But in his eyes you feel so incredibly, impossibly known.

He turns around, ready to walk away down the beach into the dying sunlight, and he turns to you once more and says, “you gonna be here tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I will!” you call to him, and he flashes you a broad smile, a thumbs-up, before running away into the horizon. You know he’ll come back.

Romance isn’t even in your mind. You just have this intense feeling for him, a certain kind of instantaneous love that goes deeper than any of that. You feel bonded, like you’ve never felt before, and you don’t know how it happened. You just stand there in the sand, dazed and misty eyed. You want so desperately to see him again. Deep breaths, calm your body, tonight you’ll have time to dream about what you’ll say.

You could see the world with him. You want to right now, very badly, so why not? Maybe it is that simple.

[maximumzombiecreator]

Seeing your post about improv theatre vs. D&D culture and the amount of skill in "humility, vulnerability, and ability to share the spotlight" that improv theatre requires. And realizing that every single good ttrpg I've played over the years had a table full of people that had that skill. I have a post about it half-written, but I'm still boggling over the idea that there are so many people coming from the D&D side that have so much contempt for the other players. (And the GM is a player, from that perspective, IMO.)

It can be contempt, and certainly sometimes it is. I think most of the time it's fear. Despite what tumblr may have told you, cringe culture is not dead, and the fear of being cringe has a deep hold on a lot of players. It has a deep hold on the culture in general, just look at the profusion of bathos in mainstream movies. For whatever reason, we treat sarcasm, detachment, and cynicism as neutral, and so they create a great suit of armour against being cringe.

Improv is exposure therapy for being cringe. There's just no way to get into improv theatre without being deeply embarrassing so many times that you learn to deal with it. But TTRPGs have a lot of opportunities to hide from embarrassment. To some extent, that's why some groups are playing TTRPGs at all. The rules provide protection. They're not playing pretend, they're playing a game which is normal and socially acceptable.

So you end up with players who are constantly protecting themselves. They make a character whose personality is a one note joke or pun. They refuse to learn NPC names and give them snarky nicknames. They constantly undercut the tone of the scene with quips and jokes. They mistreat NPCs to show that they don't actually imagine them as people. Anything to signal to the table that they're not taking this seriously, that would be cringe.

This is mostly stuff I try to talk to my players about in session zero. One thing I always say when I'm GMing is that I am committed to being the most cringe person at the table. I will not be outcringed. And I do this because I am a profoundly ridiculous person, but also because it carves out space for the players to be cringe too. And once people are comfortable enough at the table, secure enough that they won't be judged, often they can learn how great it can be to roleplay with that humility and vulnerability. Other times they'll quit the table and talk to their friends about how cringe I am for my full commitment to the inner life of a sapient hedge.

Either is fine with me.

[sillywormz]

actually ik nobody gives a fuck but the last post has me thinking abt how sebastian's metabolism would work now that he's a Fish Man. he seems to have retained a lot of human/mammalian traits so i'm guessing he's probably still endothermic, but i suspect his metabolism/heart rate/etc would be slower than an average human bc he's got a lot of poikilothermic organisms' dna integrated into him now.

he's probably still quite well adapted to the cold though bc he's got human, blue whale and great white shark dna, all of which are endotherms, and he also has dna from spiny silverfins and anglerfish which are poikilotherms but are well adapted to the cold. the only species he's got dna from which can't deal with the cold very well (afaik, i might be wrong) is a sea snake.

i'm guessing his energy requirements are pretty high given his mass. given the various dangers in the let vand zone, hunting is probably somewhat perilous for him (maybe he injured his arm while hunting?), but he seems to be very adept at quickly moving through the facility and it's implied that the various entities wouldn't be as aggressive towards him as they would be to an expendable, so that probably helps make things easier. i'm guessing the let vand zone probably has a lot of "normal" fish, squid, etc that he could hunt outside of the main blacksite, which would probably be relatively easy for him since he's intelligent and a fast swimmer. the facility probably also has food storage areas as people were living/working down there for extended periods and would've had supplies, so if he knows where that stuff is he could be living off of that as well.

i do wonder in general, when it comes to physiological needs like feeding himself, how much he sticks with "human" methods of hunting and eating vs how much he's prepared to use his more "animalistic" traits. it doesn't rlly come up in the game but if i had to guess, sebatian still seems to identify as a human and prefers to do things in a human way when he can. this seems most evidenced by him using his gun to shoot expendables, as opposed to attacking them with his claws/teeth/etc. it seems clear that he'd be easily capable of physically overpowering any expendable, but he chooses to use a gun and ammo (a limited resource!) as opposed to physical attacks. when he does get physical with the expendable, he grabs them by the shirt collar and throws them, once again refraining from using his claws or teeth and instead opting for a very "human" form of violence.

although i might be reading too much into this, i think it's likely that sebastian still prefers to act like a human and do things in a "human way" as much as possible. after all, he IS a human, and had his body changed and was dehumanised completely without consent and against his will. because of that, retaining his humanity when he can is probably his way of rebelling against urbanshade and trying not to let the changes they made to him define him. so i have a suspicion that he would use a knife/harpoon etc to hunt fish, and probably prefers to raid the stored food at the blacksite to eat, as opposed to hunting in the way that a predatory animal would. if i'm right abt this, it probably makes things harder for him at times, but sebastian is quite prideful and strong willed so i don't think he'd give in easily.

in general there's something so profoundly sad and fucked up about how he was already imprisoned for something he didn't do and had all of his dignity and rights stripped from him, only to have urbanshade literally physically take away his humanity and dehumanise him. the backstories of a lot of pressure characters (i.e., eyefestation, p.AI.nter) are incredibly heartbreaking and fucked up and sebastian is included in that