#the other family? the young woman's father is a doctor

[themathomhouse]

Hot take: people are neither inherently good nor inherently bad. We can all do bad things, knowingly or unknowingly; and we only have a certain degree of control over this.

It's also incredibly dangerous to say that a mental illness can't be a cause or contributing factor to harming others, as it just makes people at large more likely to say that we shouldn't help ill people if they've ever hurt anyone - which can extend to not helping people who haven't hurt anyone, but are seeking help to deal with thoughts about hurting people.

People always need help, no matter what they've done. In fact, knowing that help won't be taken away regardless of any kind of moral purity test is a vital step towards getting people to seek help.

I really wish we had more space for "mental illness is not an EXCUSE that ABSOLVES PEOPLE OF RESPONSIBILITY FROM HARM" that doesn't veer into "mental illness is NEVER even so much as a CONTRIBUTING FACTOR in people harming others, example, my besties I'm biased towards who have a presentation of their mental illness that happens to not be harmful to others"

We can still hold a person responsible for doing terrible things without playing the "Well everyone I know is One Of The Good Ones so this other person must simply be evil" game.

This goes for basically every stigmatized disorder you can think of. You don't help "the good ones" by denying the disorder's contribution to the behavior of "the bad ones".

[cupcakeslushie]

First || Prev || …

Here’s the next part of the Kendratello AU! I knew it was going to be very dialogue heavy, so I figured writing it out would be fast, but I’m so ready to be done with it that I’ve not really beta read it. So I apologize for any errors. But enjoy!

Splinter loves his sons, but these last few days have been eating away at his already shriveled and fraying nerves. Watching his children ambling around their home, for months, each in varying states of anxiety, fear, and distress, hasn’t been easy on his old heart.

They’ve been through so much, experienced more hardships than Splinter has ever wanted for them. But the latest crucible tearing his family apart was caused, not by some ancient demon, or world-ending threat—but a fiendishly smart, young woman.

One who’d kidnapped his son and replaced him with a stranger that Splinter hardly recognized.

The bitter tale is too familiar for the old movie star to painlessly swallow. It seems fate played such cruel tricks sometimes. Always seeming to strike harsher the second go around. With outcomes even more brutal and painful. His son was stolen by a hateful, sadistic woman, and kept locked away, until she was satisfied with the new toy that emerged from the shadows.

So it stands to reason how…relieved Splinter had been that one, early morning. When his three sons had pulled Purple into his bedroom, piling into his bed, nothing but wide eyes and panicked shouting; one over the other. Looking back now, he can recognize how short-sighted his quick relief had been. But in the moment, as a father, Splinter had only seen this new, strange development as a blessing.

Donatello might have been confused, and irritated with his brother’s manhandling, but Splinter could clearly see more life in those eyes than he’d witnessed in months. Splinter had shushed the rest, and spoken to Purple directly, finally getting a better grasp on what his sons were shouting about.

Amnesia.

So, of course, relief. Because how could forgetting all those horrible, tortuous weeks in that woman’s grasp, possibly be a bad thing? By some miracle, Splinter’s boy had been returned to him. Nowhere near that frail ghost of Donatello, which Splinter would sometimes find curled up on the floor of his own lab, screaming Kendra’s name and sobbing to be returned to her care.

He had been spared all of that, like it never happened. Their family had been handed a gift, and Splinter truthfully wasn't interested in the whys of it all…

Until Michelangelo chose to contact Draxum, and words like “brain damage” and “tumor” were thrown into the mix.

An entire day of testing yielded…varying results. They were able to rule out the scariest of options. No dark shadows were seen in the X-rays of his son’s beautifully brilliant brain, and no concerning squiggles were pointed out by the Hidden City doctors who studied the fast moving waves appearing on the EEG. It was all a bunch of nonsense to Splinter, but Donatello nodded like he agreed, when he was handed the papers over to inspect himself.

Everything was normal, physically.

That left the most difficult part of the day. Getting his son to speak to a psychiatrist—seriously, and without snarking back at every possible question he would eventually be asked.

Draxum had thankfully picked a good one. Briefing her beforehand on…everything. She seemed prepared for Purple’s special brand of cynicism. The sheep yokai was apparently at the top of her field.

A tentative diagnosis of “dissociative amnesia” had been given, along with a small number of pamphlets and printouts. The doctor had informed Splinter that certain treatments might improve Donatello’s situation, but no cure had been discovered for something like this.

They would just have to take things one day at a time. And they’d been doing so well. Almost like everything was back to normal.

Splinter had become very good at ignoring that pending feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. He smiled at his sons every day onward, like nothing was wrong. And all of them, in return, began falling back into a more comfortable ease around each other. The stress had just been starting to loosen in Red’s shoulders and jaw. Orange was giving real, honest smiles again. And Blue was no longer a shadow around corners, hiding from Purple like a bomb he was scared to set off.

But the other shoe that had been the root of Splinter’s dread, finally dropped, and the rug was pulled from under their feet once more, violently, with no warning.

Even after they’d managed to calm Donatello down. There was no negotiating the terms of his reality, and he was stubbornly convinced that the world around him was fabricated. Without caring about the consequences, he refused to be civil towards any of them, treating them all like jesters in a play, where no one had the script.

The family’s usual process for dealing with Purple’s anger–letting him cool off alone in his lab until he collected his thoughts–was unfeasible this time around.

Splinter didn’t think he could ever forget the image of his son, turning the knife he held in his hands inwards, and threatening to end his own life.

No; leaving him alone was not an option.

Which led back to Splinter’s previously mentioned frayed nerves.

Four days into this new, stressful change, and his genius son was still managing to find creative ways to sneak past their watchful eyes. Six attempts, in total. Each time, caught with seconds to spare, and just as traumatic for everyone involved.

Raphael and Michelangelo at the moment, were going through their home, removing every sharp implement they could find. Anything that could possibly be used to “put an end to the loop” that Donatello was convinced he was stuck in.

While the two performed their important task, Blue and Splinter had the harder of the two jobs; watching Purple.

Splinter was currently sitting comfortably in his chair, but it was far from his usual level of relaxation. Despite plenty of bean bags to occupy, the twins were locked in a shoving match. For some reason, they were fighting over the single, smallest one they must’ve owned.

“If you don’t get out of my personal space, I swear to Oppenheimer you will regret it, Leonardo!”

“And I swear to Ryan Renolds, that I’ll shred all of your softest hoodies if you kick me in the nuts one more time!”

“That Barbenheimer joke doesn’t even make sense, you idiot, that was Ryan Gosling!”

“Who mentioned Barbie? I’m talking about Deadpool and Wolverine!”

“What does that movie have to do with anything?!”

“Fuck dude, what did I just say about nut shots!”

“Then get out of my kicking radius, and your non-existent nuts will be safe!”

“BOYS!”

Both his sons quickly pause their arguing, giving their father their undivided attention.

“Leonardo, go help your brothers.” Splinter demands. “I will watch Purple. He has not had a moment of free time from any of you in days, and it is clearly wearing on all of us.” Blue gives his father one of his patented unimpressed stare downs.

“No offense, Pops, but how is you watching him, any different than me?”

“Because I will sit in my chair, and Purple will scroll on his phone, and there will be quiet.” Splinter can’t stand the bickering any longer. He knows both his sons will benefit from this time apart. It’s just convincing Blue of that.

Donatello’s gaze is boring holes into the back of Leonardo’s head while his second oldest son matches Splinter’s scrutiny. The rat can see the need for some fresh air battling against Blue’s desire to stay close. But Leonardo is his sharpest son, and even he can admit that his constant presence has become too grating for his brother.

“You need to watch him like a hawk, Dad,” Leo glares at his twin out of the corner of his gaze, “sometimes you can get a little…distracted.”

The new projector, playing Splinter’s same old programs, flashes against the curtain hung on the wall. The volume is set to low, but Blue still looks pointedly between his father and the screen. Splinter doesn’t blame him for his concern, so he tries to put all the gravity he can into his tone, enough that when he does promise to stay vigilant, it seems to convince Blue to place his trust in him.

Purple stays quiet through the exchange, only breathing a sigh of relief once his brother is long past the threshold of the den. He looks ready to lean back into his hard won pillows, but Splinter realizes that Blue had something of a point. Donatello is positioned quite far from him, and he’s suddenly nervous about catching something in time.

“Purple, how about you come sit with me.” Splinter suggests it kindly but firmly, and with a smile– so his son can’t refuse. He pats the bit of cushion next to his legs, “I will honor my promise to leave you alone, but I would be much more relaxed if you were within my reach.”

His boy merely blinks at him, blank faced, and staring at the very spot that Splinter has just created for him.

It isn’t as though his recliner is small, even if Splinter himself is. Donatello had custom made it for him, after one too many complaints about his old brown one hurting his back. It practically swallows Splinter, but remains just stiff enough to provide plenty of support for his lower back. He could even lay sideways and still have some space to stretch.

Splinter recalls very clear memories of all his sons fighting for a spot by his side when they were younger. But it has been some time since those days…perhaps Donatello thinks he’s far too old for such a thing as sitting by his aging father. Yoshi remembers himself at eighteen, and shudders. He’s forever thankful that no matter how lacking his parenting skills might have been, that his boys are kinder to him than he ever was to his Jiji.

Donatello pulls at some invisible thread of his black leggings. Since this new alteration of his memories, Purple has taken to wearing more layers. It’s nearing fall, but not nearly cold enough for the large sweatshirt, black leggings AND socks that his son is currently donning.

Splinter just barely hears Purple murmur a jumbled, “Huh?”

Splinter catches some sort of emotion actively being suppressed behind the bewildered shock at his offer, but it’s hard to tell what it is. Over the years Splinter is ashamed to say, he has grown very bad at reading his own children. Especially Purple, who, if he was being honest, has always been very hard to decipher.

Splinter starts to think the offer will be rejected, when Purple finally climbs to his feet and ambles slowly over. The unknown emotion skittering at the edge of Donatello’s expression morphs into something closer to suspicion. This one easy to identify, especially when it practically drips from his next words.

“Trying to endear yourself to me won’t sway me into falling for your tricks.”

The barb is said just as unkindly as everything else Purple has thrown at his family these last few days. Splinter lets it slide off him like water. He knows his son would (probably) never speak to him like that if he wasn’t stuck in such a painfully clear mode of survival and uncertainty.

“Yes, yes.” He says, untroubled. “Come sit and I can finally lean my chair back.”

Donatello watches him the entire time as he cautiously settles into his spot. He yelps when Splinter grabs his ankles and pulls his son’s long (thin, still much too thin) legs across his lap. For an instant, Splinter freezes, growing worried he’s overstepped. The act had been done without a thought. It’s the way Purple has always liked to sit, finding it more comfortable than any other way. Donatello preferred to keep his distance. A deviation from his siblings, for sure.

Michelangelo would press as close as possible, two sides smushed together like a hug, only without the constricting limbs (though, if Orange were ever to fall asleep in Splinter’s chair, those too would eventually find their way to catching him in their hold).

Leonardo preferred to sit on the arm of his chair, never staying still for long enough to find a comfortable position. But when he slumbered, after a long night of binge watching Novela’s with Splinter–he would curl up, head in his father’s lap, limbs held tight to his body. Like he was afraid even that was asking for too much.

Raphael, his poor, eldest son, hadn’t sat with him in so long. Splinter could still remember a little turtle tot in red, climbing up and splaying out onto his lap when he needed a good cry–or just a moment of peace from his much too loud siblings. Sadly, it wasn’t long before his Red was too big, and his father too small to provide such a refuge. The last time Raphael needed consoling; after the Krang, Splinter had been forced to climb up onto his own son’s knees in order to reach and wipe away his tears.

In the few rare instances of Purple seeking out physical touch, this was all he would allow. Legs stretched over his father’s lap, but his upper body was always off limits. Pulled just far enough away from the threat of any sort of long term contact.

Splinter used to wonder if Purple was scared to ask for anything more, like Leonardo, or if he thought depriving himself of a comforting hug would make him seem stronger, like Raphael, or even the rare times when Michelangelo wished to appear more mature and refused to be comforted. Eventually, Splinter caught on to the truth. His son was asking for comfort, in his own unique way. He was content with the minimal amount of closeness, as long as he felt like he was able to dictate the terms.

But one thing Purple would always allow his father to do, was loop his fingers around his ankles. Trusting the grip would hold his legs in place and keep him stable. He once said the pressure was small enough that it wasn’t overwhelming, but strong enough that it could ground him when everything became too much.

Even now, the act of reaching out to pull his son’s long legs up had been so instinctive. When Splinter looks over and sees the uncertainty still on Purple’s face, he knows he’s pushed too far too quickly.

It’s a risky move, but he’s already pushed, and it’s something that never fails, not once since he’s discovered it.

Purple has always been the most ticklish of all his brothers. Another thing that never really helped his sensory issues. But Splinter long ago discovered that there was a particular spot, which could always earn him a giggle and a brighter smile.

Splinter grips the meat of Donatello’s right knee and jiggles it back and forth. The silly action seems to do the trick and knocks something loose in his son’s overwrought head. His gamble pays off spectacularly, and Splinter is overjoyed to see a small smile erase most of the uncertainty clouding Donatello’s face. It isn’t a full peal of laughter, but the wariness makes way for something softer, and the huff of air from his nose is just as rewarding as a full body laugh.

His boy rests his shoulder and head onto the cushioned back of the chair and Splinter presses the button that will lift up the leg rest, and recline them both into a more restful position.

After a few moments of quiet, Donatello slowly pulls his phone from the pocket of his hoodie. Even without looking directly at him, Splinter can feel his son watching and waiting for the reprimand he thinks will come. Instead, Splinter raises the volume of his show just loud enough for him to hear, but not enough to completely shatter their peace. He wants to make Purple feel more at ease; like he’s not being constantly surveilled–not providing more overstimulation.

They sit like that for some time. Splinter rubs a thumb back and forth across the meatier part of Donatello's calves. He’s learned that repetitive touch is the best kind of grounding technique for Purple. The patterned motion always worked to calm his nerves.

Even still, after only so long Splinter catches Purple lowering his phone.

He keeps his own gaze forward, locked on his commercials. Splinter can see, without looking, that his son is studying him, trying to take apart something in his mind that he doesn’t understand. Splinter allows him all the time he needs to gather his thoughts.

Finally Purple speaks, “Dad…?” It’s so quiet, if Splinter hadn't been waiting for it, he might’ve missed it.

He pauses the repetitive kneading for just a moment, squeezing his hold, and humming in order to prompt his son to continue his thought.

“Can I tell you something?” The inquiry is whispered to him so delicately. It takes everything in him to keep his face open and soft and his movements steady. It’s clear that Donatello is trying his best to remain aloof, but his gaze is locked on his hands that are settled in his lap, the fingers of one pulling on the digits from his other.

At some point he must’ve put his phone completely away. Splinter feels the pressure of having Donatello's complete focus aimed at him.

The tugging intensifies. Splinter wonders if he should reach out, but he’s not sure how well that would be received. It doesn’t look painful just yet.

“I don't know what Kendra is accomplishing by showing me this.” Donatello growls, suddenly digging his palms into his eyes like he can still feel the weight of the screen blocking his vision. “Trying to make me happy, only to rip it all away from me? Or attempting to make me feel, even more like a useless burden than I was?”

It’s the first crack in his armor that Purple has shown in days. A clear sign that he was not as unaffected by Kendra’s lies as he’d been trying to project. Donatello sighs, but as it dies out Splinter thinks it sounds closer to a sob.

“You can’t tell the others…” Donatello looks at him with wet, desperate eyes, and it’s unclear if his son still doubts who he’s speaking to, but Splinter works to ease his fears all the same.

“I swear, whatever you tell me will remain between us, alone.”

Donatello nods faintly, eyes trailing downwards once more. Splinter may have had trouble before, but now the many emotions jumping across his son’s face—fear, shame, frustration, all are easy to catch.

With a shaking breath he whispers his secret. “I lied.” He’s crying now, real tears that he doesn’t even bother to wipe away. The pulling at his skin grows more violent, and Splinter finally interferes to carefully pry Donatello’s hands apart before damage is done. In place he cradles his son’s hands like delicate porcelain and runs a thumb over Donatello’s palm.

“I told everyone that I could tell. That I wasn’t being fooled, but that’s not exactly true. The last few loops have…it’s been getting harder, and harder to remember things— how they really happened. Too much is…plausible.”

Splinter keeps silent. This confession has clearly been weighing on Donatello. He deserves to get it all out, and hopefully feel lighter for it. Even if Purple suspects the family, something is letting Donatello open up enough for him to share his fears.

“There was one loop…Mikey broke…he broke the remote…When I said I didn’t have time to fix it. He threw the pieces at my head. He would never do that, though…right?”

“No, of course not,” Splinter answers immediately, quick to banish the doubt from his son’s mind. Donatello only blinks at him, like his thoughts are moving too slow, and cannot comprehend such a simple, stark contradiction to what he experienced.

“It felt so real…it all feels so real. But…I could feel how one of the sharp, broken corners had cut through my mask and how the wet fabric stuck to my skin with blood.”

Donatello raises a hand and touches the spot where the phantom wound must’ve sat. The pain now gone, but the memory of it haunts his eyes and rattles the tremors building in his hands.

“I thought…I thought I was handling this—maybe not well…But I’d hoped I would be strong enough to last until you all came for me…And now Raph is saying it’s already over.”

It’s a simplified form of the truth which they had tried to get Purple to believe, but even that much clearly doesn’t sit well with him. “If it is over, why does my body feel like one massive bruise? How did you all find me? How long did I last? Was I in there long enough to…?”

He’s clearly scared to ask Splinter any more questions, so he trails off, curling in on himself and pulling his hands up to his chest, pressing there, as if checking to make sure he feels something still beating.

Splinter decides he’s waited long enough and slowly pulls Donatello out of his hunched ball and guides his head to his own chest, making sure his ear is aligned against his own pulsing heartbeat.

Donatello resists slightly at first, but the moment he’s close enough to catch the sound, his breath catches and he glues himself to the spot.

“I don’t want to be there anymore,” Purple murmurs. It sounds like sleep is catching up with his son, the exhaustion pulling him down and slurring his words.

Splinter cups the back of Donatello’s head and carefully tug his fur lined blanket down from where it’s been sitting on the back of his chair. The blanket slots over the both of them and Donatello curls even closer to his father, tucking himself into his warmth.

“Go to sleep, when you wake up, you will be right here.” He’s sure to say it softly but with as much reassurance as possible, and Donatello seems too tired at this point to hold onto his doubts.

“Okay…,” Donatello mutters. Then, practically hanging on to the waking world for one final query hesitantly asks, “…Dad?…Do you love me?”

Splinter doesn’t even think. “Of course, my son.”

Donatello’s breathing finally evens out, and Splinter feels a few tears finally escape.

He’s not sure what next steps they should take, or what kind of state his son will be in when he wakes, but Splinter can only hope this is progress. He prays it won’t be undone…but regardless, Donatello is home. Any steps back or forward will be taken together, and that is the most important part.

[yaoyaobae]

Another twst oc introduction 🏃‍♀️

Jaseem

School : Royal Sword Academy

Favourite food: Rice dishes, Shawarma

Pastime: Playing with his pet tiger Rana, Visiting Kalim, Discovering wildlife

Family: Father, Mother, Kalim(Cousin)

Role: Dormhead

Jaseem is a third year at RSA. To most people he may seem like a lone wolf who despises making friendships, but underneath the surface is a gentle boy who longs for freedom.

Being born from a wealthy family with relations to the Asims, Jaseem’s status is nothing new to even the freshmen. Every year groups of students and parents from high status families would flock around him offering their sister/daughters hand in marriage.

Before he was allowed to bring Rana to school (don’t ask me how he did it-) Jaseem had no choice but to either 1. Run as fast as possible or 2. Teleport himself to a safe spot. Now with Rana, a fearsome tiger donning an expensive turquoise silk ribbon, nobody dares to approach Jaseem anymore.

Personality wise, Jaseem is extremely sharp-tongued and will not tolerate a single second on people he deems as childish. He is capable of cooperating with others but would prefer to work alone. Despite the cold exterior, if one can prove that they love tigers as much as he does.. maybe they’d stand a chance to win his attention. And if you can win his trust, Jaseem is probably the most loyal ally/friend you will ever get.

Having attended many arranged marriage meetings, Jaseem is already accustomed to how he must act around the ladies even if he dislikes interacting with them and entertaining their thoughtless comments about his wealth.

He is actually really bad at conveying his feelings, particularly romantic ones. He can no longer grasp the real meaning of love and has trust issues about whether someone is genuinely interested in him. This only numbed Jaseem more over the years hence brushing these feelings aside.

Jaseem has a general disliking towards women due to his past, but he will respect those who deserve it and mean their words. He won’t voice his opinions unless the situation gets on his nerves.

Jaseem’s mother was hospitalised when he was a young child and has been living there for many years, only visiting for a few days when the doctors deem her suitable. Due to schoolwork and other business matters, Jaseem is unable to visit her as much as his father. But he tries to make time for her as he feels most comfortable and at ease when talking to her about his troubles.

His father already told him that he will never marry another woman as he loves his wife very much, this made Jaseem envious as he hopes to be able to find someone he can stand by faithfully someday. While he feels that his father can be rather strict, both father and son have mutual respect for one another as they only want the best for the family.

Backstory

Back when the life wasn’t as complicated, Jaseem was extremely cheerful and lived every day to the fullest with the vast amount of wealth his family possessed.

However when he had reached the age of 10, his life began to fall apart. As the only son, Jaseem was forced to find a future wife sooner or later. From then on he had to attend countless numbers of arranged marriage meetings, parties while attending his father’s business conferences. Jaseem thought he could shoulder this responsibility , but that pressure would just build up later as he grew older.

Arranged marriage meetings were the worst. Jaseem learnt how shallow and sly people could be, faking their entire personality to coddle up to him for the sole purpose of attaining his family’s wealth. “But that’s just the reality of being the only heir isn’t it”, he thought. Jaseem became increasingly saddened over the fact that no one genuinely TRIED to understand his hobbies or know more about him, only throwing empty praises about his home/accessories/looks.

Since young Jaseem has been fascinated with tigers and his mother was the one who encouraged him to take care of one ( much to his father’s reluctance), thus Rana became his new family member. Many of his suitresses cringed at the sight of Rana whom they saw as a dirty, wild animal. Sometimes Jaseem’s father had no choice but to order the guards to take Rana away in order to force Jaseem to follow his schedule , which made him even more depressed.

Eventually, Jaseem had reached his breaking point during one of the parties and wanted to escape his “cage” even bringing Rana with him. It was then he met a young, white haired boy in the greenhouse. Jaseem couldn’t hold back his tears when the boy comforted him, claiming that he can share the same sentiments. It was after they were called to the main event where Jaseem learnt that the boy was no other than Kalim Al Asim, the oldest son and soon-to-be heir of one of the richest families in the world and his cousin.

From that moment onwards, the two spent their childhood days together basking in the sunlight and running around the mansion. They confided in each other, became each other’s source of strength to keep doing their best( this was especially stronger for Jaseem towards Kalim). They drifted a little after entering higher education, but still keep in contact.

For Jaseem, Kalim is the definition of the sun. Had he not met this smiley boy showing off his unique magic and telling him how he must continue to do his best as not only the heir but as an older brother too, Jaseem would have had a different fate and never face his reality. This explains why he hates Jamil to the core after knowing what he had done when he overblotted.

Current lifestyle for Jaseem was no different from his younger days, he still attends arranged marriage meetings (fewer due to school) and gets numerous phonecalls from his father about countries they have to fly to for business conferences. Jaseem became more adept at his dealings with women and can twist meetings to end faster to save his time to do something useful.. like picking a new silk ribbon for Rana. 🐯

Relationships

Kalim

Cousins by blood and childhood best friends. While many students in NRC thinks Kalim is way too carefree, Jaseem would cut in and tell them off as Kalim is not the oblivious rich boy many thinks he is.

He respects Kalim’s motto to be kind to others, lend a helping hand when needed and staying positive despite the challenges life throws at him. Jaseem wishes to protect this precious spirit, praying that Kalim will have nothing but happiness in his life. Jaseem truly looks up to Kalim for being able to smile through everything he’s been through, believing that he wouldn’t even survive a day in that household knowing he might not live to see the next day.

Jaseem can be extremely over protective of Kalim especially when Jamil is around. “I can’t let that damn snake cause any harm to my cousin..”he would think angrily while glaring at Jamil💀

Jamil

If not for the sake of his family image and Kalim Jaseem would have pummeled Jamil to the ground for the things he said and had done to Kalim. While he tries his best to understand Kalim, Jaseem still cannot fathom why he’d want to keep this traitor who doesn’t even consider him a friend by his side.

Unlike his caring and soft self when he is with Kalim, Jaseem treats Jamil like a mere servant and only replies with direct commands. Sometimes he would mock Jamil for the sake of belittling him, but would not stoop as low as to bring his family into it. The atmosphere around these two can be very intense indeed.

If Jaseem learns to see the overblot incident from Jamil’s point of view, perhaps he will come to understand that the two of them aren’t so different after all.

Najma

One of the few girls he respects, Jaseem is like a second older brother to Najma. Of course Najma catches on quick and can tell that Jaseem isn’t exactly fond of her brother, so she has to constantly remind Jaseem to stop frowning whenever he spots Kalim and Jamil together. He tries his best to be nicer to Jamil, but only because Najma wouldn’t stop nagging at him 🤣

Bonus: Rielle

If you’ve seen my old comics about my RSA ocs i often draw Jaseem and Rielle bickering 🤣 Jaseem thinks Rielle is incompetent and has dad issues while Rielle views Jaseem as a weirdo who is way too protective of his cousin, also why would any sane person bring a TIGER to school??

Fun facts about Jaseem’s design

He carries a waist pouch filled with Rana’s treats, various silk ribbons, water dispenser, comb and toys ( just to name a few). The pouch is magically altered to carry many items.

The tiger plush keychain was a gift from his mother when his parents brought him to an amusement park on his birthday. Jaseem did not have the best experience as he was constantly surrounded by guards and journalists, no other children wanted to play with the renowned heir too.

His seemingly blue day turned upside down when he spotted a cute tiger plush in the souvenir shop, thinking about how it looks exactly like Rana. Jaseem’s mother noticed his adoration for the fluffy toy on the top shelf and asked the staff to order one for Jaseem. Even though this silly fabric toy could not compare to the vast amount of gold and expensive gifts Jaseem received, he saw his mother’s gift as something invaluable that money can’t buy.

Till this day he still brings his tiger plush around with him chained to his waist pouch. Though it looks rather dull after being used for years, you can still tell how well washed and cared for it is by its owner.

I struggled trying to incorporate Jasmine’s hairband into the design but for now its a turquoise strand of hair that starts from the top of his head so it looks like a hairband! Its also Jaseem’s way of exploring with his own style knowing that he is far away from his home and strict upbringing. The first time Jaseem dyed his hair he thought “So this is what its like to be rebellious..interesting” 🤣

His earrings are different, the one on the right is a slightly thick gold piece ( OG Jasmine) while the left is a decorative earring with small, dangling chains and a huge jewel ( Live action Jasmine). I thought it would be cool to incorporate both earrings as I couldn’t settle on one.

END

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed Jaseem too, I’m really happy with the response for Alison haha 😭 Till next time!

*Also I know someone addressed it before but I mean to express Jaseem’s love towards Kalim as familial, nothing more. How you choose to see my OCs is up to your interpretation so long as you don’t twist my words and stories i wrote for them :)

[szynkaaa]

Billard pose ref here

Most recent brainrot is putting Kiwi and Oz into a modern AU. Monkey See, Monkey Do

Started out with Destined One frequenting the same bar to practice billard, while Oz is the resident pianist there and it just snowballed from there and now I have some backstories for those two idiots

🥝 Kiwi / Destined One

5th year medicine student. 25 years old, he started with his study when he was 20, took two years to travel around

Lost his parents and older brother in a car accident. He barely survived and was hospitalized for a long time. Selective mute since then

Uncle Shen Monkey then took him in and raised him

remembers the nurses and doctors fondly hence, why he also wants to study medicine and become a doctor later

Uncle Shen Monkey owns cocktail lounge / fancy bar called Flying Monkeys . Shen Monkey is also the barista also, and there are few pool tables available.

Kiwi spent a lot of his teen years playing billard, hence he is VERY good at it. Still goes to play and practice

Kiwi participates in local tournaments

also helps out at the lounge from time to time

Seems to be very popular among his peers despite being an introvert and loner??

his fellow students like him because when they ask him for help he gives it to them

the type that seems like a cold douche but will not hesitate to step in when he sees a woman being uncomfortable or being harrassed

kinda popular among the ladies, plus the fact that he looks really good when playing billard adds to it

probably gets asked out a lot, or phone numbers slipped into his bag

always rejects them because he got his sight set on someone else hehe

frequents @maiden-of-the-waters cafe a lot to study there

Avid comic collector. Wanted to be a comic artist as a kid....

🌟 Oz

Med student drop out during her practical years. 26 years old

parents divorced when she was super young. Dad moved away and remarried and has a new family. She has two half-siblings

occassionaly talks with the half siblings, but has not much contact with her father. Mom had full custody and essentially raised her as a single mom

typical tiger mom. Loves her mom but has a strained relationship with her at the moment. low contact

Did not have many friends as a kid, mom had a tight grip on her and her time and education. Started making real friends once she moved out for university. Met Yù @marcu-bug, Birdie @dunanana, Liyu @s0rr3l and Beike @maiden-of-the-waters and they are pretty much her only friends LOL

Started having piano lessons as early on. Had good promises to be a concert pianist, but ofc that is not a viable career path as per her mom

Studied medicine only because her mom wanted her to. She was VERY MISERABLE during her time as a student. Dropped out during the practical years because the pressure was just too much for her and she realized being a doctor was just not what she wanted to do. She wasn't happy with it, hence also why her relationship with her mom is strained, cause Oz was THIS close to finishing and then decided to ""give up""

Also her then-boyfriend cheated on her she caught him in bed with another person

And her great-grandfather passed away

overall not a good year on her mental health. Realized all she did was just doing what other people wanter her to do. Dropped out to take a break and just figure out her place in this world

works as a pianist at Flying Monkeys after dropping out. Shen Monkey pays really well and she also gets very good tips because. Helps out at the bar on days when they are short staffed to make some more extra cash

Gets hit on few times at work, but luckily a certain monkey is always there to look out for her....

🥝x 🌟

Kiwi bumped into Oz during his first year in univeristy. Probably when both needed to submit some paperwork for the univerity, Oz for dropping out. She noticed him carrying the newest comic issue of The Monkey King, and asked him about it

Learned really soon that he is a selective mute, but didn't treat him any differently and just carried on the conversation with him as usual, which he really appreciated

I wouldn't say it was love at first sight for him, more like the feeling you have when you're sitting in the plane and it is landing soon and you see the lights of your city below you and you know you are this close to home? Yeah it's that feeling.

anyway months passed and he hasn't seen her since then but she is always like there in the back of his mind

Uncle Shen Monkey telling him one day that he hired a new pianist which is nice cause they haven't had one in a while and that he wants Kiwi to be there to show her around the lounge a bit and stuff

Kiwi, not very happy about that because he doesn't really enjoy meeting new people, is then surprised to see that Oz is the new pianist his uncle hired.

Oz.... vaguely remembers him LOL. Probably takes her like a few weeks to go "hey.... have we met before???"

Suddenly Kiwi has a lot more time to be around his uncle's lounge again. Uncle Shen Monkey know what is up there. probably tries to play wingman

Enter the "and they were roommates" arc

Oz moved back to her mom but things are NOT good. lot's of fights

Kiwi overhearing one day how she asks Shen Monkey if he knows about any free rooms for rent to let her know

and whatdya know Uncle Shen Monkey does happen to know someone who has a free room

Kiwi. it's kiwi who has a free room that is sort of used as a storage at the moment. he doesn't mind Oz moving in there. Gives her a really good rent deal, where she is basically paying all the bills and that's it

Kiwi owns the apartment. His parents left a good amount of assets behind which he sold and then bought his own place

Oz is very grateful for the deal, because it helps her to save money and put aside to eventually move out and find her own place

spoiler alert that's not gonna happen lmfao

This is the apartment layout:

Oz has the room closes to the bathroom because Kiwi is nice like that. He'd move in an old piano in too for her to practice and play

at first Oz was very shy about playing because she doesn't want to disturb him when he is studying but he likes listening to her practice and play when he is studying

I think that before Oz moved in, Kiwi barely decorated the apartment much. The embodiment of only had the bare neccessaties in it. But once Oz moves in, it started to feel more like a home than just a housing for him to come back and pass out. I think the only real personal belonging he has is a good decent The Monkey King comic collectiona and collectibles

Definitely have a vinyl record player, something that Oz always wanted to have. She movied in with like five records in her collection, and Kiwi then gifted her a player, and the collection just grew from there

both are very much introverts, so they prefer to spend most of the time just chilling at home, on the couch together playing games or reading books

Oz does sometimes have her friends other to hangout

because both work crazy hours sometimes, Kiwi would go Flying Monkeys after his shift to pick Oz up and then they go home together

Kiwi doesn't know how to drive, never learned too traumatized from the accident. So Oz is the one who rents a car and drives when they decied to take trips together

Have a rule to put a sock on the door handle and text the other person to let them know when they have special guests at the palce

spoiler alert none of them ever bring any hook ups home lmfao

Oz does go on few dates but never brings anyone home because it just doesn't feel right

and Kiwi well, his heart belongs to only one person hehe

have weekly movie nights. Kiwi takes it personal if Oz binges a whole season without him

there is a lot more for me to share but then I'd have a massive essay so I will stop here.

anyway great chemistry as roomates. wink wink nudge nudge

[burningvelvet]

being a romantic era poet: a quick how-to guide

walk around in nature contemplating Things. start hiking, swimming, sailing, rowing, shooting, riding, etc. for inspiration

be obsessed with the french revolution and related enlightenment-era figures like rousseau, voltaire, mary wollstonecraft, and madame de staël. be more disappointed by napoleon bonaparte than you are by your own father. 

speaking of fathers, your parents and most of your other relatives are all either dying or dead or emotionally abusive. if you have any siblings (full, half, step, or adopted) who DIDN'T die tragically already, then you may choose to be close to them. you also may end up being much TOO close to them. various circumstances may also ban you from seeing them. 

be at least slightly touched by madness and/or some other severe illness(es) including but not limited to: consumption, horrors, syphilis, deformities, lameness, terrors, piles, boils, pox, allergies, coughing, sleep abnormalities, gonorrhea, etc. — for which you must take frequent bed rest and copious amounts of Laudanum (opium derivation)

consider foregoing meat and adopting a vegetable diet instead to purify the spirits. you may also abstain from alcohol for the same reasons. alternatively, you may attempt the veggie diet, end up rejecting it, and becoming a rampant alcoholic instead. in romanticism there is no healthy medium between abstinence and excess.

reject, or at least heavily criticize, christianity. refuse to get married in a church and consider becoming a fervent champion of atheism. alternatively, you may embrace catholicism, but only on an aesthetic basis. eastern religions and minority religions are also acceptable, only because they piss off the christians. 

if you’re not a self-hating member of the aristocracy and instead have to work for a living, do something that allows you to benefit society, be creative, and/or contemplate life. viable options include, but are not limited to: apothecarist, doctor, teacher, preacher, lawyer, farmer, printmaker, publisher, editor. there is also the possibility of earning a few coins from your art. if you were cursed to be born a She, no worries. we believe in equality. you may choose from these occupations: wife, nanny, housekeeper, spinster, amanuensis (copy writer for a man), lady’s companion, divorced wife, singer/actress/escort, widow, regular escort, tutor, or housewife. 

speaking of sexist institutions, try rejecting marriage entirely. Declare your eternal devotion to your lover by having sex with them on your mother’s grave instead.

if you do get married — elope, and only let it be for necessary financial reasons, or to try and save a teenage girl from her controlling family, or out of true love with someone you view as your intellectual equal, or because your life is so racked with scandals and debt that you can only clear your name by matrimony to a wealthy religious woman as your last resort before fleeing the country.

After marriage, quickly assert your belief in the powers of free love and bisexuality by taking extramarital lovers and suggesting your spouse follow suit. If they cannot keep up with your intellectual escapades then consider leaving them. Later on, propose a platonic friendship with them following the separation, or beg them for reconciliation.

If your marriage is happy, try moving in with another bohemian couple to shake things up. Alternatively, you may die before the wedding for dramatic effect.

If you beget children (whether in or out of marriage, makes no matter), do society a favor by choosing to raise them with your beliefs. Consider adopting orphan children, or even non-orphan children. If their parents are poor enough they probably won’t mind. Try kidnapp— I mean adopting — children off the side of the road if you can. 

DIE but do it creatively. ideally young. ideas: prophecy your own death, lead an army into war and then die right before your first battle and on your deathbed curse everyone and demand to see a witch, write a will leaving money to your mistresses or some random young man you have an unrequited romantic obsession with, carry a copy of your dead friend's poetry and read it right before you drown so that your washed up corpse can only be identified by his book in your pocket, die while staring at your lover's shriveled up heart that you keep wrapped up in a copy of his own poetry and then be buried with it, die of the poet's illness (consumption) while your artist friend draws you and then be buried with your lover's writing, get mysteriously poisoned (by yourself) after a series of scandals and accidents and then have your family announce that you were killed by god, die from romanticizing poverty or receiving bad reviews from literary critics, die from walking or horseback riding in the cold and the rain while poeticizing, etc.

[bloodstained-ballgowns]

i just rewatched ‘the woman who fell to earth’ a couple of days ago for the first time since it aired back in 2018 and the more i think about it, the more i like it.

thirteen is the only doctor for whom i feel a tangible, rose-tinted nostalgia. she wasn’t my first doctor, but she was the first doctor i watched live, the first doctor that i spent an actual extended period of time with over the episode rollout. her intro episode has middling parts (as can be expected with most episodes of Who) but there’s also so much good that i really want to highlight.

first of all, there are some really great character dynamics set up here. much more interesting than i remember, tbh. ryan is a guy who loves mechanics but is stuck in a warehouse job he hates, a guy who obviously wants to connect to people, a guy who by the end of the episode has lost both his mother and grandmother in the space of a couple of years and the step-grandfather he didn’t really want is all he has left (minus his absent father). that’s interesting.

yaz has a keen sense of justice and this raw, intense yearning to help people, to do something worthwhile, something more - the way she has chosen to express that is through law enforcement, but it’s not quite giving her the satisfaction she wants. that’s interesting.

graham’s experience with cancer means that he constantly feels like he’s living on borrowed time. meeting grace gave him purpose, gave him family, gave him the will to fight when he fought it was all but over, but now grace is gone. he and ryan aren’t related, but they’re family, and now they’ve got to figure out how to care for each other without the very lynchpin that brought them together. once again with feeling: interesting!

“i’m just a traveller. sometimes i see things that need fixing. i do what i can.” i like that they circle back to the ‘just some guy’ portrayal of the doctor here, both because it’s the one i’m partial to and because it feeds particularly well into the whole ‘the doctor is an unreliable narrator’ aspect, especially in the wake of the increased deification in the moffat era. it's a nice set up, even if it gets completely overhauled circa series 12/13. in fact, having thirteen keep this as a persistent attitude throughout the Timeless Child of it all could have been really effective re: her reticence with her companions and refusal to address or deal with her past.

the scene where thirteen builds her sonic screwdriver might be one of my favourite sequences in nuwho. i love that it’s a hybrid of alien tech and sheffield steel. i also love that they highlight the ‘mad inventor’ side of the doctor here (her teleportation circuit is based around a microwave?) and wish that they had carried it forward more. it would have been the perfect basis for her to bond with ryan over. jodie also pulls off the humour of the episode well, considering the significant shift from moffat dialogue.

i enjoy thirteen's outfit: the vibrancy of it as mirroring her childish excitability, but also as another part of the mask - if i dress all colourful then maybe i can ignore/outrun/masquerade my great capacity for darkness! etc etc. the shopping trip with yaz and ryan is a bit shoe-horned in at the end but it's cute that she finds it in a charity shop. (back in 2018 i bought a t-shirt with a couple of stripes across the chest solely because it remotely resembled the one she wore lol. nerd from a young age, me.) jodie also looks soo hot in capaldi's outfit though so a spin on the traditional suit would also have been appreciated.

some miscellaneous points: i like that she tells Karl off (“you had no right to do that”) right after saving him. i like that she gets it wrong at first and makes it clear that she’s working on the fly. she’s following her instinct, and that instinct is to help people. doctor who has been beautiful before but the cinematography takes such a huge step this era. “it’s been a long time since i bought women’s clothes” i am choosing to believe this is about river thank you and good night.

[dreamerschroniclesofstories]

Hey love ! Hope you’re having a wonderful day/night 🩷

Could you please do a Tommy X reader where the reader works for him ( it could be his maid or secretary) and someone says something mean to them and they feel so humiliated that they leave. At first Tommy doesn’t know what happened until someone tells him and he goes ballistic and ends up defending her then they end up together 🩷 it could be angst to fluff please :) thank you so much

Sorry for any mistake !! English is not my first language

Hey lovelie! Thank you so much for your ask, I can definitely do that for you!. Hope you guys enjoy.

This fic will be based around season three, this means that Tommy and grace do not get married, in this she had Charles then left Tommy. Also, in this Lizzie is a bitch but its only for the purpose in the fic x.

Summery: request above

Word count: 2,321

When you were twenty, you had graduated from bed-ford college, which was very uncommon since not many people could read or write, but luckily your mother learnt you from a young age how to both which allowed you to complete your studies.

However, this meant that when people found out you were from London and had gone to one of the most prestigious colleges for young women, you were judged. Most people thought you were a privileged woman from a rich family. Unknownst to anyone but yourself, you aren't. You lived in a one bedroom apartment with your mother and two younger sisters. Your father had left your mother ,after your youngest sister was born, for a younger woman.

As you grew up, your mother had become ill, she had began to suffer from Melancholia, as her doctor described it. She never recovered from it and died when you had moved back home after graduating. When your mother died, your young sisters were left in your care and you decided you wanted to leave London and find somewhere else for your sisters to grow up. After nearly four years, you found your current home, Birmingham.

You loved your job, all you had to do was respond to letters for Tommy, make sure his schedule was up to date, make sure there weren’t any over laps and make meetings on his behalf. The only bad part of the job was sharing the room with tommys other secretary, Lizzie stark. At first, when she had started working two weeks after you started. She was nice, you spoke everyday, had lunch together whilst on break but once you started to get closer to Tommy she began to change.

At the beginning, you pretended not to notice, thinking maybe she was just having a bad day but every time you went into tommys office without knocking or every time Tommy comes in work, he stops to speak to you and asks you how your weekends been and how you sisters are, Lizzie would grumble under her breath and when you weren't looking would steal the paperwork Tommy gave you to sort out so she could do it and claim you weren't.

Today was one of the days that Lizzie was being extremely bitchy, it was a Friday afternoon which meant Tommy wasn't in the office most of the day. He was either at a meeting or in the betting shop. This left you and Lizzie alone.

You had just gone into tommys office to put the paperwork Tommy needed on his desk when Lizzie walks in as well.

“ Tommy has a lot of whores, one for each month, which one are you?”she sits down at the round oak table, getting out a cigarette then lights it.

You turn around to look at Lizzie and frowns, not understanding the purpose of this conversation “ what Mr Shelby does in his personal life is none of my business”

“don't act dumb, you know what i'm talking about Y/N” Lizzie spits, venom lacing her voice.

“ i don't think we should be having this conversation when Mr Shelby isn't here, its not appropriate” you asserted, picking up another pile of paperwork, being to walk back to the double doors that leads out to you desk and Lizzie.

The sound of scuffing catches your attention, making you stop walking and look towards Lizzie once again “ get off your high horse Y/N, this is Birmingham everyone is a whore, they don’t have money to act like they are better then everyone” Lizzie barked, pointing a finger at you.

Your heart begins to race, the blood running through your veins begin to rush to your face, causing your cheeks to begin to heat up, it was like someone had turned up your internal thermostat to the maximum and now your face is a shade of red that would make a tomato jealous.

“ i'm sorry if i offended you in some way, i did not intend too” you apologise, you knew you hadn't said anything offensive but you didn't like confrontation and you wanted to avoid yelling in any possible way.

Lizzie takes a drag of her cigarette “ you are so insufferable, i dont know how your family deals with you” she chuckles under her breath.

At the mention of your family, you take a shakey breath and turn away from lizzie “ i need to start this paperwork” . As soon as you sit back at your desk, you began to look through the paperwork but you couldn't concentrate. what Lizzie said to you runs laps in your head, making your chin begin to quiver as your eyes begin to fill with tears.

Unfortunately, at the same time polly walks through the main doors into the building, she walks over to you. Wiping under your eyes quickly,putting a smile on your face.

“ hello Polly, what can i do for you?” you ask softly, your voice breaking slightly as you try to hold in your emotions.

Polly raises an eyebrow and places her purse down on your desk, watching as Lizzie walks out of tommys office with a smirk on her face but as soon as she sees Polly, she quickly covers it with a smile.

“whats happened?” Polly asks, suspicion filling her words, looking between Lizzie and you.

“ nothing pol, just talking business” Lizzie puts on a smile and looks towards you, her eyes widening for a second to tell you not to say anything.

“yes, just business” you agree, nodding slightly.

Polly hums “ if you say so, anyway is Tommy free in the afternoon this week” she asks.

You grab his schedule from your draw and begins to look through this weeks page he's free Wednesday afternoon from two o'clock onwards” you grab your pen “would you like me to write you in for a meeting with him”

Polly smiles and grabs her purse again “ yes, thank you Y/N, your a doll” she kisses your cheek softly then leaves.

The visit from Polly, helped you distract yourself from the situation with Lizzie, you smile happily as you begin to write down the information bout polly's meeting in tommys schedule. As you begin to write in the book, the ink tub falls onto the page causing you to gasp.

You look up and see Lizzie standing in front of your desk, smirking. she lights another cigarette “opps, i guess you'll have to tell Tommy you ruined his book” she tuts, shaking her head.

Once again, your pulse begins to race, your heart starts to beat so incredibly loudly, louder then gunshots. Your hands shake as you begin to try and pat the ink with her handkerchief but it wasn't working.

“no,no,no” your eyes begin to well up with tears for the second time, in less them an hour. You look up at Lizzie, disbelief in your eyes.

“ why would you do that, this has all of Tommy's schedules” you ask astonished.

“ you don't belong here, I've known Tommy before you even were in Birmingham, i should be sat in your chair. Everyday i have to see you prim and proper, giggling at Tommy” Lizzie rants angrily.

Unknownst, to both of them. Polly was still behind the door listening to the conversation. she knew something was wrong so she wanted to listen in case they were hiding something.

Polly leaves the office, determined to find Tommy to tell him what she heard between his secretaries. however, she couldn't find him.

It had been a few hours since the incident, you were quiet s you write a letter to Tommy, you have decided to leave your position of head secretary, you couldn't cope with the daily taunting from Lizzie.

The sound of the door opening and close catches both of the women's attention, you stand up immediately when you see Tommy.

“ Mr Shelby, i need to speak with you if that's alright” you ask softly as you walk around your desk, to stand beside Tommy.

Tommy nods and lights the cigarette that was resting between his lips “ come through to my office miss Y/N” he gently places his hand on the small of your back as you begin to walk to his office with him.

As the door to his office closes, you didn't notice Lizzie watching you. Her eyes like daggers.

“please sit” Tommy nods to the chair by his desk as he sits in his own chair, slowly blowing out the smoke from his mouth. You gulp and nod, sitting down slowly on the cold brown leather seat. the coldness helping to cool down your skin.

“ I've been thinking for the past couple of weeks, and i didn't want to do this but its the best thing for me” you explain, nervously fiddling with the letter in your hands. Your hand shake as you give Tommy the letter “ i'm giving in my notice as Secretary, i will be leaving this company after we finish this conversation”

Tommy frowns, taking the letter gently “ may i ask why” he raises an eyebrow, looking towards your direction. you end up making eye contact for the first time during this conversation.

You smile slightly, your eyes showing that you were distressed “ no reason, i just feel ready to move on”

The next day

Tommy had organised a company/ family meeting, he had some business to talk about. Lizzie had to sit in the meeting since you use to but now you had left your position, no one else can do it.

Tommy had ordered two peaky blinders to watch your flat, wanting you to be protected since people knew you were associated with them.

The meeting had started nearly half an hour ago, however Polly just noticed Lizzie sitting at the table. She frowns “ Thomas, where is Y/N?”

Tommy sighs and leans against the wall, taking out his cigarette holder then opens it “Y/N has decided to move on with her career and no longer work for me” he announces.

Polly raises an eyebrow, glancing at Lizzie, seeing her smirk slightly “ have something to say Lizzie?” her voice full of bitter.

Lizzie shakes her head, no saying anything. Tommy nods and lights his cigarette “ Lizzie, by tomorrow afternoon i need an advert in the paper for a new head secretary” he explains.

Lizzie frowns “you're looking for someone else, i thought i would take that position” she admits.

Polly chuckles and shakes her head “ is that why you forced Y/N to leave? or is it because you want to fuck Thomas?” she quizzes.

Lizzie blushes slightly as Tommy raises an eyebrow and looks towards her.

“is that right Lizzie?” he asks, his eyes turning cold.

“ it wasn't fair Thomas, she came in and you gave her the job straight away without even knowing her” she snaps, putting down her pen. The room went quiet after lizzies confession.

“you were jealous of her so you made her feel bad about herself so much that she left her job? ey? are you fucking proud of yourself” his voice begins to rise as he speaks.

“it wasn't-” Lizzie begins to defend herself when Tommy interrupts her.

“ By the end of today, i want your desk cleared and you stuff gone, you're fired” he points to the door as he speaks, Polly smirking as she watches Lizzie stand up and rush out of the door. As soon as Lizzie left, a blinder rushes into the room.

“Tommy, shes leaving. we followed her to the train station. shes got bags and her sisters are with her as well” he states, catching his breath.

Tommy immediately grabs his coat and cap, rushing out of the betting shop.

At the train station

The sound of people yelling and rushing to and from trains fills your ears as you carry your bags, your sisters infront of her, walking towards the platform where your train back to London would arrive. The clunking and screeching of train engines makes you flinch slightly, you never get use to that sound.

Your train was due for another hour but you wanted to have enough time for your sisters to say goodbye to their friends before you went to the train station.

As you sat on the bench with your sisters, you didn’t hear Tommy calling your name since the platform was extremely loud. However, in the corner of your eye you see him walking over.

“ girls, stay here” you instruct, standing up.

You walk over to Tommy, looking up at him as you both stand infront of each other. However, you didn’t have time to say anything before Tommy kisses you. You didn’t know what to do at first but after a few seconds you felt your shoulders relax as you ease into the kiss.

Time slows, your lips felt like they were made to connect with each other. The feeling of Tommys hand on your cheek causes goosebumps to arrise on your skin. You had wanted his mouth on your for months, but now it’s happening, you want to savour the moment.

Your lips part softly, chasing tommys as he pulls away “ what was that for?” You whisper, biting your lip ever so softly.

“ I should have done it awhile ago” he whispers, stroking your cheek bone gently “ come back, I know what happened, lizzies gone” he explains, looking into his eyes. His pupils blown.

You smile, chuckling under your breath “ okay” you whisper, putting your hand over his.

Tommy brushes his pad of his thumb over your bottom lip. A silent harmony parts your lips as a soundless breath leaves your mouth. Your eye lids slide shut as Tommy leans in, brushing his lips across yours, feeling the coldness of his skin, like snowflakes trundling down from the sky. The soft pillow of your mouth gives Tommy the pressure that he longed for.

This is the light at the end of the tunnel, and you’re so glad you survived.

A/N: hey guys, I don’t really like this one. It feels rushed and it’s unedited so there are a lot of grammar and spelling mistakes. Please do like and comment, I appreciate all of your support ❤️

[rafemotherfuckingcameron]

This might be too much for you but can I request step dad x reader where you mom has fertility issues and readers mom wants Rafe to breed you 🙏

UNNATURAL

Word Count: 2.3k

Pairing(s): step!dad Rafe x Reader, reader!mom x reader

Warnings: SMUT, breeding, pregnancy talk

Summary: Your mum asks Rafe to breed you

Masterlist

Sitting on the edge of your bed, the weight of your mother's request heavy on your shoulders, you feel torn between conflicting emotions. On one hand, you can't bear the thought of disappointing the woman who's been there for you through thick and thin, the one person who's always had your back for the past 21 years. But on the other hand, the gravity of what she's asking you to do is almost too much to comprehend.

You run a hand through your hair, trying to calm the whirlwind of thoughts racing through your mind. This decision isn't one to be taken lightly—it's a choice that will shape the course of your future in ways you can't even begin to imagine.

With a heavy sigh, you close your eyes and try to focus on the facts. Surrogacy is a deeply personal and complex process, one that involves not just your physical well-being, but your emotional and psychological health as well. And to do it for your own mother, with Rafe as the father... it's a scenario straight out of a nightmare.

But as you weigh the pros and cons, you can't shake the feeling that there's more at stake here than just your own future. Your mother's longing for another child of her own is palpable, a desperate plea for fulfilment that tugs at your heartstrings. The weight of your mother's struggle with fertility weighs heavily on your heart as you grapple with the decision before you. 

You've seen firsthand the toll it's taken on her—the countless doctor's appointments, the disappointment with each failed attempt, the longing in her eyes every time she sees a young child.

For years, she's been trying to conceive another baby, hoping to fill the void. But despite her unwavering determination and countless efforts, the reality of her fertility issues has remained a bitter pill to swallow.

===

With a heavy heart and a sense of resignation, you come to a decision: you'll say yes to your mother's request. Despite the unease and uncertainty swirling within you, you can't bear the thought of letting her down, of denying her the chance to have another child.

“Mum, I have thought long and hard about this and I have to a decision. I’ll do it.” As you utter the words, a weight lifts from your shoulders, replaced by a strange mix of relief and apprehension.

You know that this decision will change your life in ways you can't even begin to imagine, but for now, you push those thoughts to the back of your mind, focusing instead on the task at hand.

Your mother's face lights up with joy and gratitude as you confirm your agreement, her eyes shining with unshed tears. In that moment, you can't help but feel a twinge of guilt for the doubt and hesitation you harboured just moments before. After all, this is what she's been dreaming of for years—the chance to expand her family and experience the joy of motherhood once more.

Your mother's excitement is palpable, her joy contagious as she envelops you in a tight embrace. "OMG honey, I'm so happy," she squeals, her voice filled with unbridled enthusiasm. "I can't wait to tell Rafe."

You offer her a weak smile, trying to match her enthusiasm despite the knot of unease that's settled in the pit of your stomach. "I'm happy too, Mom," you murmur, though the words ring hollow in your own ears.

As she pulls away, your mother's eyes sparkle with anticipation. "I want to get started straight away," she declares, already reaching for her phone. "I'll text Rafe and tell him we're on for tonight."

Your heart lurches at the mention of tonight, your mind reeling with confusion. "Wait, what? Tonight?" you echo, the words tumbling from your lips before you can stop them. "Isn't the doctor's office closed?"

Your mother pauses, a puzzled expression flickering across her features. "Y/n, we're not going to the doctor's," she explains gently, as if speaking to a child. "We're doing it naturally, for the best results. I thought you knew that."

A chill runs down your spine at her words, a sinking feeling settling in the pit of your stomach. 

You hadn't realised that her plan involved bypassing medical professionals altogether, relying instead on... what? Luck? Chance? The whims of fate?

The reality of the situation hits you like a ton of bricks, and suddenly, the gravity of your decision becomes all too real. You're about to embark on a journey that could change your life forever, all in the name of fulfilling your mother's dreams.

“Mum, I’ve never you know” you say trying to make her understand without actually saying it. “What honey?“ she asks generally confused. “You know……..had sex before!” Your cheeks blush with embarrassment.

“Oh, honey thats okay. I’ll make sure Rafe takes good care of you.” She says placing her hand on your knee to assure you. You nod, still a bit hesitant. But still willing to do this for your mother, no matter uncomfortable this situation is going to get.

“Great, and don’t worry, you don’t have to any of that threeplay most people do” she smiles, “ewww mum, and btw its foreplay.” You say trying to hid you smirk.

===

That night your mum ushers you towards the bathroom, her voice soft and reassuring. "Go on, honey. Take a nice warm bath and relax. Rafe will be here soon, and I want you to be feeling your best when he arrives."

As you sink into the soothing embrace of the hot water, the cares of the world seem to melt away, replaced by a sense of calm and tranquility. As you soak in the tub, lost in your thoughts and the gentle rhythm of the water, you can't help but feel a sense of anticipation building in your chest.

Just as your about to unplug the bath, you hear someone open the bathroom door. “Hey Y/n, it’s just Rafe. Your mum left for a few hours, to give us some time, so you didn’t feel like you were being waited on.”

Startled by the sudden intrusion, you sit up in the bathtub, water sloshing around you as you turn to see Rafe standing in the doorway. "Hey, Rafe," you greet him, your voice filled with genuine affection. "Thanks for letting me know."

As he steps further into the room, you can't help but feel butterflies in your chest. Rafe walks forward and sits across from you. Breaking the silence, Rafe reaches out to take your hand in his, his touch gentle yet firm.

The connection sends a jolt of electricity coursing through you, igniting a fire within that threatens to consume you both. “Your mum mentioned that this is your first time and I wanted to let you know, I’m going to take really good care you.” 

Just as your about to speak, his hand slides down your thigh, gently pushing your legs open. Your breath hitches as his fingers find you clit, rubbing tiny circles in it. You legs fall to the sides of the bathtub, letting him move his hand and rest it on you. Soft moans escape your lips as you feel a knot forming in your stomach, a band ready to snap. 

Rafe fastens his pace and rubs harder into my bud, something snaps inside me and I feel a gush of liquid spill out of me. He removes his hand and grabs the towel from the wall handing it to me. “Wrap it around you and go and wait on the bed for me, I’m just going to have a quick shower.” 

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I heard the soft creak of the door opening, and my heart skipped a beat. Slowly, Rafe stepped into the room, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that sent shivers down my spine.

With a towel wrapped around his waist, he moved forwards, grabbing your arms gently and helping you rise to your feet. He leaned in and started peppering kisses down your neck and collarbone, he undid your towel and let it drop to the floor. Standing their absolutely nude felt weird and uncharted as this was the man that you mum loves. 

He twisted you around and pulled you flush against his chest, you felt the bulge behind your butt. His hands roamed your body, one of his hands grabbing at your left boob, squeezing and massaging the hard bud. His other hand reached down and massaged your clit again, although this time you were wetter.

“So wet for daddy huh!” he whispered. Rubbing faster and faster, my breath hitched and loud moans escaped my lips, “Get on the bed………on your hands and knees” He said in an dominant voice, regathering yourself, you pulled your legs into position.

He dropped his towel and his huge cock sprung up spilling pre cum on his chest. Wiping it off his abs with his fingers he placed the cum on your entrance. The feeling of his fingers spreading around your hole was a something you never thought would feel so good.

Stroking himself faster, you felt a harsh smack on you ass, making you flinch, the sting on the red hand print made you even wetter, so you pushed yourself back against his cock.

“You like being spanked by daddy, don’t you?” Rafe said giving you another slap. “Answer me” He yelled, grabbing my hair and tugging on it, 

“Yes” 

“Yes what?”

“Yes daddy”

Letting go of your hair he laid beside you “Your mum said no foreplay, but seeing you here now, I just can’t help myself” he explained, running his hand over your lower back.

“Hop on top, and face my cock. I want you to suck on it.” He said smirking, you remembered what your mum said about their not being any foreplay, so you were hesitant about doing it.

“Hurry up, or I’ll fuck you hard” He commanded. Jumping onto his chest, he pushed your head down on to his cock, you took him in your mouth only half fitting due to how big we was, you used your hand to compensate your mouth for the rest of him.

Bobbing your head up and down at a fast pace made you wetter by the minute. Suddenly you felt his tongue licking all around your entrance and his nose rubbing against your clit, the sensation made you go faster and grind down on his face.

Feeling his cock start to grow bigger, you felt the band ready to snap inside you. And just like that you squirted all over his tongue and you felt his hot cum ropes down your throat.

Out of breath you fell to the side, wiping your mouth you looked at Rafe as he hovered over you, grabbing his length his pushed in, you dug your nails into his bicep at the stretch, you breath stopping a second to adjust to him. “Relax” he said pushing himself in deeper, rubbing at your clit, you relaxed more and was able to push all the way in. The stretch was insane, it was mix of pain and pleasure, more so pleasure when he started to rock his hips. 

Feeling his length pull out than back in sent your eyes rolling back, he quickened his pace, lifting one of your legs onto his shoulder, all while still pounding into your dripping cunt.

You were taking him so well and squeezing around him, your body telling him that you were close, was enough to give him the adrenaline boost he needed, picking up speed as he fucked you deeper into the mattress. 

“fuck-” you breathed out. “Daddy, i’m-”

“you wanna cum?” he asked, his fingers now digging into the soft skin on your hips as he held himself up. 

“mhm..” you moaned out. 

“come on then. be a good girl and ask daddy.” his eyes met yours, almost causing you to come undone immediately. His eyes were now black and a thin sheen of sweat covered his skin, his hair to his forehead. 

“Daddy, please!” 

“yeah, come on, sweetheart. Make a mess all over my dick like the slut you are.”

And make a mess you did. Your back arched off the bed, toes curling as you screwed your eyes shut. 

“Look at me while you’re cumming so you know it’s your daddy who’s making you feel this good. Me, my dick, that’s ruining this tight pussy.”

You opened your eyes and held eye contact with rafe as he fucked you out of your high and into his. He let out a string of breathy “fuck”s and “Y/n”s as he released thick ropes of cum into you. Once rafe finally rode out his orgasm, he pulled out of you and flopped onto the bed beside you.

Catching your breath, you laid still until Rafe left the bed and walked into the bathroom, he came back into the room with a washcloth “I’ve never seen anyone squirt as many times as you’ve had. Not even your mother can. Just between me and you, I prefer you over your mother” laughing at his own statement. You made an awkward smile, while he wiped you down. 

1 Week Later

“Mum I’m Pregnant” "Oh, Y/n,” your mum exclaimed, her voice filled with emotion. "I can't believe it! You're going to be our surrogate! This is the most incredible gift anyone could ever give us."

Her words washed over you like a wave of warmth, enveloping you in a cocoon of love and gratitude. With tears of happiness streaming down your cheeks, you wrapped your arms around your mom, holding her tightly. "I love you so much, Mom," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. "I'm so grateful to be able to do this for you."

"Can't wait to fuck the mother of my child again" Rafe whispers, hugging me from behind.

Part 2

🤰🏽🍆🍒💝🤰🏽🍆🍒💝🤰🏽🍆🍒💝🤰🏽🍆🍒💝🤰🏽🍆🍒💝🤰🏽🍆🍒💝🤰🏽🍆🍒💝🤰🏽🍆🍒💝🤰🏽🍆🍒💝🤰🏽🍆🍒💝🤰🏽🍆🍒💝🤰🏽🍆

[phoward89]

Platonic!Crassus Snow, Dark!Crassus Snow, Newborn!Daughter!Reader

Based on this ask.

General Crassus Snow was a cold, stern, strict, no nonsense military man. He made a career out of the military, just like his father and his father before him. His younger brother also chose the military path.

Cadmus had married right after graduating the Academy, had a baby, and then signed up for the Peacekeepers only to be stationed in 12, where the Snow family patriarch Commander Xanthos Snow oversaw the Peacekeepers of the coalmine district. One of Crassus' best friends, Javani Halvir, was serving as an officer in 12 underneath the command of Xanthos Snow- so of course he agreed to keep an eye out on his friend's younger brother while said friend attended the University to study Military Strategies.

Once Crassus had graduated University with a degree in Military Strategies (thanks to stealing his friend Casca Highbottom’s paper of drunken and horrendous ideas for a punishment so dire for one's enemies that those enemies would never rise up against then again) he enlisted into the Peacekeepers as an officer, did a couple months of officer's training, and was sent to PK Base-D12 to serve under his father; alongside his brother and his buddy.

In time Xanthos retired and went back to his Corso penthouse in the Capitol, causing Crassus to become the new Commander. And while visiting his family during leave he had a very fast courtship with a young woman that he was introduced to by his former friend Casca before he joined the military. And of course, that courtship resulted in a marriage and the birth of an heir.

A male heir named Coriolanus.

Shortly after Coriolanus' birth Xanthos Snow died. Sadly, Crassus was unable to get time off to attend the funeral, but he sent his buddy Colonel Javani Halvir and his family in his stead.

Crassus ran the Peacekeepers in District 12 for 5 years until the districts rebelled and war broke out. A war that he was forced to fight in. But he had studied Military Strategies just for the occasion such as a war. A general must be prepared and ready.

The rebels bombed the Capitol, hoping to weaken the city. Sadly, that air strike resulted in Demeter Snow, the young, beautiful, vapid wife of Crassus to go into unexpected and premature labor. With no help, since a doctor was unable to make it due to the bombs, the family cook and Grandma’am (Crassus' mother) had to help her deliver the baby.

Despite being weeks early and small, the baby survived her birth. Tragically, Demeter didn't. She hemorrhaged and died.

Her death shook up the entire Snow family. Grandma'am had already lost one daughter-in-law and now she lost another. And poor Coriolanus lost his mother while Trigris Snow lost her Auntie, who was like a mother to her.

Grandma'am knew she had to call up her son and tell him the news. News she knew would upset him, considering he had just lost his younger brother weeks earlier in a small skirmish against the rebels near the mines. Cadmus was there, along with a few other men, to ensure rebels wouldn't uprise and take over the mine. But sadly the rebels attacked and slaughtered the handful of peacekeepers tasked with safeguarding the mine.

After receiving the call from his mother, Crassus put his Colonel in charge and took an emergency leave to Capitol City, Panem to attend his wife's funeral and check up on his only living family.

“Crassus, come see your daughter.” Grandma'am told her son after treating him with a hug and a kiss on the cheek once he entered the penthouse.

Crassus wasn't too happy about having a second child. He already had his heir so he didn't see the news for another child.

And especially a girl.

Daughter's weren't as valuable as sons in society, so in his mind the newborn baby was useless. A beast of burden even.

“I don't need to see her, mother.” Crassus coldly bite out while making his way to his study.He was in town for the funeral and had to make quick arrangements for it so we he knew his mother hadn't done that yet.

All Grandma'am did was have the coroner take Demeter's lifeless body to the funeral home, but didn't set the funeral arrangements in motion. She told the mortician that her son would handle it when he got to town.

His mother's lucky that he was able to entrust the base and the troops in Javani's hands otherwise she'd be planning a funeral or enlisting the help of the neighbor Pluribus to do it.

“You need to see your daughter that Demeter died giving you before you make calls and arrangements for her.” Grandma'am lectured her son in a firm motherly way while following right behind him as he strolled down the hall towards his personal office.

“That baby's not going anywhere, she'll still be in her crib when I'm done.”

“Crassus, Demeter would want you to see that precious baby girl of yours before calling the funeral parlor on her account.”

“Mother…” Crassus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose to ward off his growing frustrations. He couldn't tell his mother that he didn't care about his newborn daughter, not so soon after his wife's death; it would just send her into a tailspin.

Coming up to her son's side and giving him a motherly smack on his arm, the old woman dressed in her fineries seriously told her son, “Crassus Xanthos Snow, you're going into the nursery and you're going to hold your daughter even if I have to drag you by the ear to do it.”

“Mother, you're too short to be dragging me by the ears.” Crassus dryly chuckles. But he knows his mother's not amused by the way she cuts her eyes at him. At any minute she'll start lecturing him, which is something he wants to avoid. So, with a heavy sigh, the general relents. “Fine, let's go to the nursery.”

Grandma'am opened the door to the nursery, which was also her granddaughter Tigris' room. The young girl offered to share her room with her newborn baby cousin once the topic of where the crib should be placed came up. The kind hearted girl was so selfish in doing that.

Crassus walked by his mother and into the room, only for Grandma'am to join him. He spotted the crib in the corner right away. In fact, it was the same old wooden crib that was used for his son Coriolanus- hell for him and his late younger brother too.

The side of the room the mahogany crib was at had a couple of floral pictures hanging on the wall for a girlie decor. On the other side of the room was his niece's twin bed, her desk, her notebook, and various fashion doodles displayed on the wall.

Oh, how the decor in the room seemed to be split right down the middle, just like a rock.

“Crassus, come.” His mother told him, linking her arm in his and dragging him over to the sleeping newborn.

Crassus looked down at his newborn daughter and immediately realized that she was too small due to coming early. That his daughter would need to put weight on and fast if were to survive the winter. He didn't say a word, just bent down to pick up his daughter.

He honestly didn't want to hold her, but did because his mother was at his side and he didn't want to hear her lecture him.

Crassus cradled his newborn in his arms, only for the baby to blink open her eyes and look up at him.

Crassus was melted by the innocent look on his daughters eyes.

In your eyes.

Yes, you're the daughter of the ruthless, cold hearted, stern, and hateful General Crassus Snow. A man that locked his heart behind a frozen wall of ice. One that a single look from you melted.

The innocence in your eyes reminded him of a girl he once loved. And he vowed to be a good father to you.

But he didn't vow to be a good father to your older brother, Coriolanus. In fact, Crassus felt that his son was a weakling that needed to toughen up. But in your case, Crassus wanted to protect you from the world because all the world’s an arena and not everyone in it has good intentions.

Crassus never thought he wanted a second child let alone a daughter, but just one look from you and your father was vowing to protect you with his life.

Y/N Snow, the second child of Crassus and Demeter Snow; the darling miracle baby that brings joy amongst the ruins of death.

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @lady-harvey @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @jacesvelaryons @tempt-ress

[maaarine]

Afghan women in mental health crisis over bleak future (Yogita Limaye, BBC News, June 05 2023)

""We have a pandemic of suicidal thoughts in Afghanistan. The situation is the worst ever, and the world rarely thinks or talks about it," says psychologist Dr Amal.

"When you read the news, you read about the hunger crisis, but no-one talks about mental health. It's like people are being slowly poisoned. Day by day, they're losing hope." (…)

It's extremely hard to get people to talk about suicide, but six families have agreed to tell us their stories.

Nadir is one of them. He tells us his daughter took her own life on the first day of the new school term in March this year.

"Until that day, she had believed that schools would eventually reopen for girls. She had been sure of it. But when that didn't happen, she couldn't cope and took her own life," he says.

"She loved school. She was smart, thoughtful and wanted to study and serve our country. When they closed schools, she became extremely distressed and would cry a lot." (…)

The father of a woman in her early twenties told us what he believes was the reason behind his daughter's suicide.

"She wanted to become a doctor. When schools were closed, she was distressed and upset," he says.

"But it was after she wasn't allowed to sit for the university entrance exam, that's when she lost all hope. It's an unbearable loss," he adds, then pauses abruptly and begins to cry.

The other stories we hear are similar - girls and young women unable to cope with their lives, and futures coming to a grinding halt. (…)

A study done in Herat province by the Afghanistan Centre for Epidemiological Studies, released in March this year, has shown that two-thirds of Afghan adolescents reported symptoms of depression."

[hobunaga]

UPDATED VERSION, thank you @guzhufuren for the additional info!!!

my friend wanted me to make a chart of, Meet you at the Blossom, characters and what their relationship is. Now I don't know everything, I don't even know if I got the names correct but I hope this clarifies a little what is going on here.

here are some clarifications(careful, spoilers)

Xiaobao's parents: Xiaobao's dad found Xiaobao's mom wandering around town one day and assumed she was the daughter of a wealthy family and had lived a really sheltered life(she is). He got her drunk, they slept together and he took responsibility by marrying her and taking care of her.

Tong'en: Now I don't know for sure if she loved any of the men that I attached her to, but they were in love with her so I kinda just added it in case her feelings were genuine or if she was only doing what she had to to survive. The only person I can confirm she truly cared for is Zongzheng Qiyuan and they had a brotherly and sisterly bond only.

Xue Xiaoyu: Now ya'll might be wondering why she has a red line towards Xiaobao and it's kinda given that she has a big crush on him. Her cousin however is his true love so I think she'll put on her big girl pants eventually and move on. Her brother is Xue Lianyu, Xiaobao's best friend. She is also the cousin of Huai'en.

Que Siming and Jinbao: They have 2 names cause in the extra I read, they had changed their names at least once. Jinbao was originally known as Wang Erhu and Que Siming was called Yue Siming. Que Siming was most likely adopted by the doctor whom was caring for him after his father was sentenced for treason and Jinbao was sold to Xiaobao at a young age.

Jinbao and Zhao Cai and Que Siming: Similar to the Xiaobao, Su Yin, and Huai'en jealousy trope, Que Siming's jealousy is mainly centered around Jinbao and Zhao Cai's relationship. Now I don't know if Jinbao has a thing for Zhao Cai, but Jinbao maybe masturbated to Zhao Cai once??? or Zhao Cai ran into him while he was masturbating??? I don't know... if someone can interpret this scene let me know because English is not my first language.

Zhao Cai and Medicine Girl: In Jinbao's side story, Jinbao Marries a Wife, it was stated that Zhao Cai was in a heated relationship with this medicine girl and frequently went out to see her during the time Xiaobao was still sick with the cold needle poison. I don't know if they end up together at the end but it was the only relationship that was mentioned in the story for him.

Shaoyu and Su Yin: So apparently there is a one sided interest in their interactions according to the awe inspiring @guzhufuren . When I read it, I wasn't sure how to exactly interpret their relationship but I can see it now that Shaoyu is just as obsessive and possessive as his older brother is. Good luck getting away, Su Yin!

Shaoyu and Huai'en: Half brothers with a somewhat refreshing ending in the live action that hints that there is a possibility of them bonding later in the future. Now I'm not sure which woman mothered Shaoyu, but I'm going to assume it's the ex empress which makes them half-brothers(well Tong'en only birthed one child so it's a given). Now usually if the mother loses the favor of the emperor to even be demoted out of being empress, that must mean that it heavily affects Shaoyu's standing as crown prince as well. Luckily no other princes were mentioned so it's more likely that Huai'en won't compete for the throne and Shaoyu will still inherit it.

The Zongzhen 4 brothers: Now they're just fucking insane and the only sane one is Zongzhen Qiyuan. Even the emperor is a little cuckoo but hey, that's what stress does to you right? They need to sit down, relax, and chill a little. I'm so glad two of them greatly support Huai'en's decisions.

ps: I'm sorry if I got the names wrong or I didn't name a few of the characters. Either way, I think this is the relationship chart?

[imaginaryf1shots]

My Girls (||) | Max Verstappen

Words count: 3072

Driver!OC X Max Verstappen

Summery: Cecilia Hansson daughter of a Swedish billionaire, a race car driver, with a dream of making it big in Formula 1. However she has a few secrets that may hurt her as women are disliked in the sport.

Series Warnings: cursing, child abandment, absent father, drinking, car accidents, Jos Verstappen, misogyny, Christian horner (tell me if i missed anything)

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Max Masterlist

Previous || Next

A new beginning 

Both Max and Cecilia followed each other’s carriers.

When Cecilia then got pregnant with her ex’s, Mathew’s, daughter she watched as Max made it into F1, she was jealous yes, she wanted to race to reach her dreams, she wanted to be the first F1 female champion. 

“What do you want to do?” Her dad asked her as he watched his daughter hold his granddaughter. He never expected to have his little girl as a mother this young, her ex signing all his rights away before they baby was even born, leaving the father's name on the birth certificate empty. A single mother at the age of 18.

“Whatever you decide, we’ll support you.” Her mum told her holding her hand, her girl just gave birth after a long pregnancy, she looked tired but content. 

“I want to keep her.” She whispered looking at her girl, she had wisps of blonde hair, the same hair Cecilia and her father shared. Already looking like her, she whipped her tears away and looked up at her parents. “And I want to race.”

“It’s going to be hard.” Her dad warned her, she needed to know the challenges facing her, if she decided to do that then it’s going to be one of the hardest things she ever did. 

“I know, but I want to do it for her, I want her to know that she can achieve all her dreams, I want her to proudly say that I’m her mum, to never feel like any less because her dad isn’t in the picture, I want to do it for her.”

“And you will, we’ll work it out and help you as much as you need.” Her mum kissed her forehead and pushed her hair out of her face, her lovely daughter. Her sweet and strong daughter. 

Once Cecilia was given the green light by her doctors, she was back on track and in gyms. Her family’s home gym was upgraded, she had everything she needed there. The only time the girl used her uncle’s connections was when he helped her get back into competitions, getting into F2 was easy once she showcased her abilities that improved in her time off. Mclaren’s junior team snatched her up and she drove for them for a year before she was set as the reserve driver for them in 2018, she raced for the team in a free practice in the Germany, a track she hadn’t drove in her carrier, the woman was on the sim everytime she could as she prepared for the race, she wanted to impress not only Mclaren who had her on yearly contracts for now, but also everyone else, women belonged in the motorsport and she’s going to show it. She wants more skilled females racing, she wants her daughter and all the young girls growing up to see girls like them racing and winning. 

In 2019 she had her seat, driving for the first time in an F1 car that was made for her. Making it as the first female F1 driver since the 90s. Getting a place is one thing, keeping it is another thing, all the other females before couldn’t keep their seats for long but she planned to stay racing no matter what. 

When it was announced you better believe it turned into a media circus. The female had gone through grilling PR and media training, going through every question she could’ve been asked. She’s ready to face the fire.

The season kicked off in Australia, once the media saw the Mclaren making its way to the park at the entrance they crowded the area, wanting to get a glimpse of the female driver or even her teammate. Mclaren is doing a lot of unseen things with two new drivers this year. When Cecilia got out of the car she was given for the week, she smiled at the cameras, she was sporting Mclaren merch with a pair of blue jeans, wanting to be as neutral as she could until the media got used to her, if she wore any of her clothes the team speculated that they’ll focus on that and take away from her abilities. 

It’s media day and she had a lot of interviews to go through, making her way to the entrance. One of Mclaren’s press officers walked with her, there weren't that many fans of her around so she only signed a few things before she made it inside. Going to the paddocks where there was a quick meeting with her and Lando before they start their media duties.

Standing a little to the side she waited for the drivers doing the interview to finish before the new batch did theirs, her and Lando were split up for this section, thankfully she saw Charles coming her way, they both grinned when they saw each other, hugging the other tightly when he made it to her.

“Mon Dieu, tu m'as manqué.” She said in French, they pulled back Charles’ dimple evident on his face. (Oh god I missed you)

“Tu m'as manqué aussi, je suis si heureuse que tu sois là.” Charles replied to her they stood talking in French, Checo and Daniel walked in too they heard the pair talking in French they couldn't keep up with them so they left them talking after they greeted each other, the last to join is Max. (I missed you too, I'm so happy you’re here.)

When he saw her standing there he had to take her in, they’re no longer the teenagers they were when they used to Kart, gone the baby faced Cecilia and in her place stood a grown woman, hair longer and light makeup on her face, her hair loose, he only evers saw her in braids growing up.

It’s been years since Max saw Cecilia last, he knew she was the reserve driver for Mclaren, everyone knew, but they never ran into each other, both lived in Monaco but he never ran into her there either. He knew she’d make it into F1, it took her longer than he thought but she made it. His childhood rival made it into F1 to be one of his rivals, he can’t wait to race her on track once again.

There it is again, his heart speeding up, his eyes coming back to her every few seconds. He thought he grew out of his feelings for her, but evidently not. Once again she’s standing with Charles speaking in french his french isn't a match for the Monégasques. When Cecilia took her eyes off her best friend’s they fell onto the dutch driver.

“Max.” She called for him, he looked from Daniel to her, that smile she had when she was younger, he remembers the last time they talked and how rude he was to her, but that was years ago, a lifetime ago it seemed. “I haven’t seen you in years.”

They didn’t hug, like her and Charles, but her smile was enough for him. Cecilia couldn’t help but take him in too, she’s seen him on TV of course but the real thing is always different. She wonders how she hasn’t run into him before.

“Yeah, last time I saw you, you were almost as tall as I was.” Rolling her eyes at his joke, she’s taken her height from her mother, her father’s side of the family were all tall, leaving her the shortest of the bunch, she wasn’t that short but she always looked short next to her family members, she’s 165 not that short but whatever.

“Wow Verstappen, not all of us are born to be giants.” She joked back. “I’m not even that short, I’m average.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“You know Max is right.” Charles said with a teasing smile.

“Come on, not you too.” Cecilia groans and glares at the due. 

“It’s the truth, Cece.” Charles said and leaned down a little to be the same height as her mocking her height, she huffed and exaggerated rolling her eyes. The men laughed at her antics, she crossed her arms and walked to the two other drivers.

“I feel bullied, I’ll go talk with the nicer drivers.” She shook her head as she heard them laugh at her, her hair swinging left and right, they knew she was only joking with them. She could always take a joke.

Complaining to Daniel and Checo about the boys, they patted her back in comfort. A minute later they took their places on the sofa in front of the journalists. 

Cecilia got nervous once her feet hit the elevated platform, she’s been through all questions that could be asked, she’s trained until she could answer without a moment of hesitation. So why is it that the opposite happened, why is it that no one thought that the male filled room would agree to ignore her. They were all just too happy to take pictures of her walking into the circuit. It showed what they thought of her, she didn’t belong here, they didn't want her here, she’s only good to look at, a replacement for grid girls. The poor press officer tried to get people to ask her anything but they just ignored him. She had long since just leaned back and placed her microphone beside her, she was annoyed but she tried to act as if she wasn’t bothered. Was it working? Not 100%, people would debate whether she was bothered or not. They don’t know her well enough to go back for past experiences. 

“Cecilia, what are you looking forward to this year?” Charles asked once he answered the same question, he turned to look at the female next to him, it wasn’t hard to understand what journalists were doing. Picking up her microphone.

“I’m mostly looking forward to showing everyone what I can do.” She looked at Charles before her eyes met the main camera, looking straight on, no jokes. “I’m going to prove to everyone that women belong in F1.” She smiled then and looked at Charles. “But mainly I’m looking forward to beating you and Max like I used to do when we were young.”

This did it, both men started talking at the same time making her smile. She wasn’t asked any more questions but she didn’t mind after that, her and Charles were talking to each other when he wasn’t asked anything. She nodded along with some answers. After what felt like forever they were done. Walking out of the room she pressed the Mclaren hat on her head, an arm wrapped around her shoulders.

“Show them what you’ve got, Cece.” Daniel said to the younger female, he hated how underrated she is and people already looked down on her. People were acting like they’ve never seen her drive, F2 was filmed and aired, she drove in a FP last year, and did well, not to say how good she did in testing. 

“Planning on it.” Cecilia said with a grin, how real it is, she couldn't tell you. 

Free practice, she didn't give her all, the team planned for her to surprise everyone on qualifying day. She was seen with Sebastian talking, the man was talking with her, giving her advice not about the race but about the media. He told her how the media can go from portraying you as a villain to a hero in a few seconds, telling her that once she gets in the car she should forget all of them and just focus on driving, the german driver had seen her drive before with his own eyes, he knows how good she can be. 

When Lewis joined them, Cecilia couldn’t look him in the eye. He’d seen her last year, and they’ve never talked about it, he never asked and no news came out, but she was still scared. Plus, she looked up to him, always admired him. 

“You were a badass on Media day.” Lewis said to the female, he knew slightly of what she was going through, F1 isn’t known for its diversity, while she had the money, he had his gender, both came into the sport at a disadvantage and Lewis knew she has big potential, Seb talked to him about her before, making him watch her races before. Hearing his words made Cecilia look at him, his smile made her smile as well, a look of understanding passing them. 

Getting P9 in qualifying wasn’t bad for a rookie, on their first drive. Her team is proud of her place, knowing that tomorrow she’ll start at a good position to do even better. Even if she didn’t finish P9 then that’s some points won in her first race.

Cecilia planned to do better, if not for the helmet’s visor then people would see how the look in her eyes change the moment she starts a race. Gone is the smiley girl and in her place a woman on a mission. 

At the first corner she went up to P7, her team encouraging her to keep the pace. Drivers know each other’s techniques and how to deal with them, but the new ones are always full of surprises, and Cecilia is indeed a surprise. The female is a skilled driver, no questions asked. Going up another position, she couldn't overtake Charles but she got the fastest lap, finishing at a strong P6 winning 9 points for Mclaren.

She may have not gained a podium but her team were shouting down the radio how happy they were.

Later that day Cecilia got a text from an unknown number, she was in her driver’s room, going over the race analysing every minute. A habit that she got, it’s one of the ways she got better, after a race she’d sit down, watch and analyse and try to learn from it and then never think about it again. She could tell from the number that it’s a Monaco based number.

Unknown number 

Hey, I got your number from Charles, hope it;s okay.

Cecilia H.

Who is this?

Unknown number

Its Max

Verstappen 

Cecilia H.

It’s okay

What's up?

Max

Lando said you’re still at the circuit?

Cecilia H.

Yeah, are you still here?

Max

Yes, mind if we meet up? 

Cecilia H.

Sure give me a minute and i’ll be outside Mclaren

Max

Okay 👍

Closing the laptop she had on, still in her team kit with the cap and all, she walked out holding her packbag deciding to just leave after her talk with Max. Max was already waiting for her. The sun was almost down, only a few stragglers still there, all the media and fans already left. 

“Maxy!” Cecilia cheekily called for the man, he turned to look at her, he looked like was about to scold his younger sibling or something, making her smile even more.

“Don’t ever call me that again.” 

“Sure whatever you say, Maxy.” Cecilia teased him again, this version of Max is her favourite, the one who could joke and take a teasing. Definitely better than younger Max.

“I take it back, I’m leaving.” He turned to walk away before Cecilia held his bicep to stop him.

“Wait, wait, I’m sorry, what do you want?” She asked him quickly, he gave her a smile showing her that he knows she’d just joking. Thinking about what he wanted to say kind of made him shy, his cheeks were dusted with a pink glow and he rubbed the back of his neck for a moment. “Come on, it can't be that bad.”

“It’s not, I’m just embarrassed.” His voice dropped when he said embarrassed, just admitting that he’s embarrassed made him even more embarrassed. “You know the last time we talked…”

“Yesterday?” She asked him, frowning, trying to recall what happened yesterday, admittingly so much has happened. Maybe she said something rude without noticing or something, but nothing was coming to her mind.

“No, no when we were young, I wanted to apologise.” He said and decided to just get out and get it over with. “When you just wanted to congratulate me and I called you stupid and weird, I'm sorry about that, I didn't honestly mean it, not then and not now.”

“You scared me for a second there Max, I thought I said something.” Cecilia adjusted her hat so it won't cover her eyes as much so she’d be able to look at Max without raising her head that much. “I honestly forgot about it, we were kids, a lot of things happened since then, and you kind of forget about those small instances.”

“Still I felt the need to say I’m sorry.” Max was glad she was taking it lightly, he knew that she most likely would she hadn't held it over his head, or acted coldly towards him when they met again. “So what are you still doing here?”

“We had a post race meeting.” 

“Lando left over an hour ago.” Max frowned; they both had their things and were slowly walking to the direction of the parking lot.

“Well, it’s just a little habit I developed. After a race I would watch the race and see where I went wrong, how I can improve and what the others, who did better than me are doing.” Max nodded to her simple explanation, that alone proved to all those haters online and misogynistic journalists who refused to ask her anything. On Mclaren’s promos and any pictures of the girl, it had a copious amount of hate under it, it’s baffling to see. 

“You did great today.” Max commented and even though she disagreed she took the complement. Nothing much was said the rest of the way, and they split up going to their cars, and driving to different hotels. 

Cecilia could only think about how much Max has changed, no longer the cold boy she met before. Yes on track he is the same, wouldn't want to piss him off on track but the man in a race wasn’t the same as he was talking to her now. And he wasn't bad to look at either.

Her phone rang, her mum’s picture popped up, answering the phone while she had it connected to the car, her daughter’s voice greeted her. Her little three year old voice met her ears, making her smile.

Next ->

[frogchiro]

I hear it is time to spread the word of our lord and savior Tachanka? 👀

link: (https://rainbowsix.fandom.com/wiki/Tachanka_(Siege) Context of link: Just the wiki page of R6 operator Tachanka.

But I wanna highlight a few things!!!

Alexsandr Senaviev was born on November 3rd in Leningrad, Russia to a military family. At the age of eighteen, Senaviev was conscripted into military service just as the Soviet Union was ending its operations in Afghanistan. Upon the dissolution of his draft, Senaviev opted to enlist full time. He was part of the wrestling league, where his formidable frame and match strategy earned him accolades. 

Alexsandr Senaviev has a boisterous sense of humor with a booming laugh. He can be quite blunt, but without the intent to offend

Senaviev's younger sister is a doctor and our discussion had barely started when he was showing me pictures of her in her doctor's smock, along with a dozen more photos of his nieces and nephews and his own kids. […] He and his sister grew up in a strict household without many things, which is why he makes a great effort to enjoy life. They both make sure that their kids are loved and raised with laughter. At the same time, he doesn't like to buy or accumulate physical objects and emphasizes this with his children, much to their consternation. I suspect that's also partly to do with his divorce. […]

(Also the main reason why we refer to Tachanka as 'lord'/godly is mainly 'cause his weapons/loadout is shit.)

Ladies and gentlemen, we got ourselves a REAL LIFE DILF <33

From what I gathered on his wiki he has at least two children, one of them a son and an ex-wife! Also him being an ex wrestler because of his size and strength...

Imagine being a babysitter for his kids, a 6 year old boy and a sweet 3 year old girl who absolutely adore their nanny who spends the majority of their time with them since their father is still a busy man and their mother is using her newfound freedom as a divorced woman so you're babysitting the little ones for a hefty sum from their dad whenever you're free from college.

But you have to admit, while the kids are literal angels and a delight to babysit, they nor the money are the sole reason for you being so eager to babysit and their father, Alexsandr, played a huge part in it too.

He was so large and heavily build, no doubt from his years in the military but his charming, boisterous attitude combined with his broad, toothy grin that almost seemed boyish on his mature face was what really made you fall for him :(( Whenever the kids were playing or napping, you two had a little time with each other to just talk and spend time together, get to know each other better because 'Let's not make this one of those stick-in-the-ass rigid employer-employee relationships, yes?' as Alexsandr put it himself.

The connection between you deepened but you were still so shy under his clear blue eyes :(( You couldn't possibly do the first move, what if he doesn't return your feelings? He's much older than you, he has a military career, two kids and a divorce, surely he wouldn't ever be interested in someone like you...right?

Ofc little did you know that Alexsandr was tugging his lengthy, heavy cock every night after sending you off with a thick wad of cash and a loud, happy thank you for taking care of his kids, though in reality he was everything but happy :(( Like it or not but the burly male fell for you, the most cliche thing on earth, the young, sweet babysitter that visited him home almost every day to care for his little ones with a gentle smile towards them and him too, such a stark contrast from his ex wife...

He was cumming every night multiple times to the thought of you right here beside him, in his bed, all nice and naked, sated and warm after a night of passionate love making. He came on his hairy tummy with a displeased growl, once the post nut clarity set in and realized that he wasted so much precious seed when it could be inside you >:(

Alexsandr knew he had to have you, had to confess to you how he felt but didn't know how; his loud, charismatic attitude failing him for the first time in years but these thoughts were for the time being pushed back once again to the back of his mind. He could think of a better solution on how to win you over once he wasn't so terribly horny, testosterone clouding his mind as his heavy cock jumped to life once again, thick potent sperm oozing from his swollen tip and Alexsandr could only think about how well he could breed you, he was a real stud despite his age y'know? Plus he always wanted another kid anyway <33

[topazy]

Teen spirit

Pairing: Carl Grimes × reader, Maggie Greene × sister reader

Warnings: Swearing

Chapter: 5.07

“Why can’t Maggie be in here?”

An older woman with auburn hair named Deanna smiles at you. She was in charge of Alexandria, and she would be deciding if your group would get to stay or not. You didn’t mind talking to her initially, but what made you uneasy was her videoing your conversation and not allowing your sister to sit in the room with you.

“I won't bite,” she smiles. “I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable; I just want to ask you a few questions.”

When your group first arrived in Alexandria, everyone was made to hand their weapons over, and now being asked personal questions... it felt intrusive. Deanna straightens out old-fashioned flora curtains before wiping her finger along her bookcase, which was fully stacked. She smudges the dust between her fingers, then turns to you and asks, “How long have you been out there?”

“Uh, I’m unsure. Two years maybe.”

She sits down in the chair across from you and asks, “How did you all find each other?”

“When someone got shot, they were brought to my family's farmhouse so my dad could help save them.”

She looks intrigued. “Is your father a doctor?”

“No, he was a veterinarian.”

“Smart man. I’m assuming because you’re referring to him in the past tense, he’s no longer with us.”

“I lost my daddy not long ago.”

“Have you lost anybody else?”

“I lost my big brother Shawn, mom, and cousin Arnold all on the same day. Walkers attacked them. My dad and sister were killed by people.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she says, sounding sincere. “How old are you?”

“Fifteen.”

Deanna shakes her head and says, “You are far too young to have lost so much. I truly am sorry. So, as far as I’m aware, Rick is the leader of your group.”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“How do you think he does?”

You thought you could handle a few more questions, but tears began to swell. You didn’t like being asked anything because it brought everything you'd been through back. “Rick is a good person; everyone in our group is. We’re a family.”

—

Your group was given two large houses to stay in for now, but so far everyone has just gathered into one and is taking turns cleaning up. Being in the walled-off community felt like being in a TV show where the rich housewives live in the suburbs. The only thing you felt was normal was Daryl cutting open a possum while sitting on the porch. Your eyes widen when Rick walks outside; he has showered and shaved off his beard, making him look like a completely different person.

But then again, you looked different. After showing Rosita how to braid your hair, a nice blonde woman named Jesse dropped off some clean clothes for you to wear, along with toys for Judith.

“Has anyone been there yet?” You point to the house next door.

“I don’t think so,” Carl says, looking up at his dad. “Can we go check it out?”

Hesitantly, Rick agrees. “You can go look; just be quick and stick together.”

—

The house next door was nearly identical, aside from a few decorations. Growing up on a farm, you’d never dreamed of living in a modern home built like this. Carol had come with you to check it out; she was now leaning out of the kitchen window, talking to the people who live in the house next door.

When you hear a thumping noise coming from upstairs, you jump and grab Carl’s wrists. “Shit, sorry.” Feeling heat rush to your cheeks, you let go. “I’m just on edge.”

“It’s fine.” Carl offers you his hand. “I get it; I’m scared all the time too.”

He loosely holds onto your hand as you walk up the stairs, and when you reach the room, the noise is coming from Carl. He pulls out his knife and waits for you to do the same before pushing the door open. The room looks like a typical teenage hangout spot; the floor was covered in magazines, comics, CDs, and weirdly designed pillows with posters of bands you’ve never heard of before pinned to the walls.

“It’s weird, isn’t it?” Carl says, “These are probably things we would have been interested in if things were different.”

“Not me,” you sigh. “I would never have been allowed magazines with half-naked women on the cover. Shawn was grounded for two months when Maggie found a magazine with a woman wearing nothing but a bikini under his bed.”

Carl laughs while kicking a dusty blanket aside to see what’s underneath it. After a few moments of silence, he says, “You never talk about your brother much.”

A fleeting smile tugs at your lips. Being the youngest, Shawn completely doted on you, and as a child, you would follow him around like a shadow. He always had time for you. His death hit you so hard because you thought he would always be there to protect you, but he died trying to save your mom from walkers.

“Hey? You okay, you kind of zoned out there.”

Hearing Carl’s voice, you snap out of your thoughts and back to reality. “Yeah,” you say, smiling at him. “I was just thinking that my brother would have really liked you.”

—

You bite the insides of your cheeks to stop yourself from laughing. Judith looks so confused as an elderly couple. Natalie and Bob Miller fuss over her. It was clear there weren’t many kids around, and this was the first time anyone had seen a baby in years, so they were all excited to see Judith.

“Is that Jesse?” Carl asks quietly.

You look up and see his dad talking to her, “Yeah, she’s nice.”

“My dad seems to like her. He says we’re to go to her house later and meet her son, Ron.”

It was weird; the idea of being a normal teenager was starting to freak you out.

—

After showing you around his home, Ron led you and Carl up to his bedroom to introduce you to his friend Mikey and girlfriend Enid. You were still trying to wrap your head around the idea of returning to school in the afternoons, which was held in a garage, when Carl nudges you with his elbow to gain your attention.

“Sorry, what?”

Ron chuckles. “I said cool bracelet; where do you get it?”

“Em, Carl found them,” you mutter.

“Neat, kind of like a souvenir of the apocalypse.” He pushes his bedroom open. “Enid, Mikey, this is Carl and y/n.”

After an awkward introduction, Ron lists the different things that they do while hanging out, such as reading comics, playing video games, and playing pool. The fact they had electricity from solar panels was mind-blowing enough, but seeing all the stuff they had was leaving you speechless.

You smile at Enid as you sit on the edge of Ron's double bed, while Carol joins the other boys in playing video games. You thought it was a little bit in bad taste; they were playing a zombie video game, but don’t mind watching until a particular scene happens: one of the players finds a sword and begins decapitating the undead.

You and Carl exchange a look before you excuse yourself. “I gotta go; I need to help Maggie with something.”

—

Rick isn’t the slightest surprised when he enters Carl’s new bedroom and finds you in it as well. You were staring out the window in his room that overlooks the woods outside, watching as walkers gathered on the opposite side of the wall. While Carl lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling.

Rick sits at the edge of the bed, asking, “How was Ron’s house?”

“What do you think of this place?” Carl asks him.

“Well, I think it seems nice.”

“Yeah, I like it here. I like the people, but they’re weak. And I don’t want us to get weak.”

The people here don’t have a clue what it’s like on the outside, and if the walkers broke through the wall, most of them would be dead in five minutes.

When Rick leaves, you go and sit on the floor with your back against the bed. You pick up one of the comics Carl found earlier, place it in your lap, and start to flip through. Feeling a tap on your shoulder, you look up and ask, “What?”

Carl looks as if he’s struggling to say something; after a moment, he swings his arm lower and links his fingers with yours.

[smok3r7]

They Always Come Back

Aaron Hotchner x f!reader

Explicit, 18+

Eye Catching

Main Masterlist & Series Masterlist - My Ao3

Series Summary: You and Aaron met in college, Criminology Major, funny enough. Throughout your five years at George Washington College, you and Hotchner had this on and off again relationship; it was all fun until you started to realize that you loved him. After graduation the two of you cut ties and left it as dumb college love, going your separate ways. After a decade you finally land your dream job, a seat at the BAU; however when you notice the name copied on the email, you can’t believe your eyes.

Chapter Summary: It’s your Freshman year at George Washington College and you’re determined on getting your doctorate in criminology. Little did you know the handsome man you sit next to in your first lecture, Psychology 101, will have you feeling things you haven’t in years.

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: anxiety, self esteem issues at first

*a quick little cameo from Professor Joel Miller ;) idea from Chloe with her Seeking series with her cameo of Father Lawrence and @merz-8 with the idea of him being the professor*

—

“Bye Mama, love you!”

“Bye baby, you go rock this shit!”

Your eyes start to well with tears as you back out of the long paved driveway, where your mom stands by the garage door hugging herself, trying her damned best not to break down while she slowly waves to you. When you reach the road and put your truck in drive, you turn your head to look at your beautiful mother one more time as you blow her a kiss. You wait for her to return the gesture before you push your right foot on the gas pedal and you focus your attention on the road in front of you.

Just a four hour drive, all I gotta do, you whisper to yourself as you turn onto the main road that leads to the freeway. You’ve lived just outside of Roanoke, Virginia, with just your mom ever since you were a toddler, and you have no memories of your father or any other family members. He left as soon as he was informed about the pregnancy and all your mom has told you about her family is, well-

“They just let too much shit slide. No one’s ever been held accountable for anything they’ve done. I had to leave, to save you. That’s all I cared about; saving you from their disgusting behavior.”

You have never asked her for further details, gathering on your own that her family, your family, were inhumane and cruel. So you just left it at that, which you really are okay with, at the end of the day. Your mother has been the only family to consistently cheer you on for whatever you do, pushing you to become the smart, strong, and independent young woman you are today. She’s all I need.

—

It’s late August, just on the cusp of September of 1987, and the road trip to Washington D.C is beautiful. The trees are just starting to turn from the bright greens to the light oranges and reds. It’s just amazing to be able to witness the change in seasons. You start to realize that the rest of Virginia isn’t much different than home, which brings you a sense of comfort and calmness.

You love living in Roanoke, it’s so cozy and peaceful, and now that you’re not going to be there anymore, it scares you. The fear of not being familiar with your surroundings is heavy on your mind and heart, since you’ve lived in the same environment and home for twenty-one years.

Even with all that in mind, you’re still extremely excited to start fresh. You’ve heard nothing but wonderful things about Washington D.C - the scenery and structures are breathtaking, and the history of it all enraptures you. But what you’re really looking forward to is the college life; the learning environment, the gratification from being able to move forward in your career, the range of different people, the parties, and who knows - maybe a little fling here and there. Overall, it’s all very intriguing and an electrifying experience that you cannot wait to begin.

In June, you celebrated your twenty-first birthday and that was the day you decided to take your career seriously. Ever since you were a pre-teen and got a chance to talk to an actual FBI agent, who was a woman - insane, right? - in your eighth grade class, you dreamed about becoming a part of the BAU at Quantico. You’ve had a fascination with crime for as long as you can remember, but also, you get this overwhelming sense of satisfaction when you’re able to help others. So no matter the circumstances it takes to get there, you will be able to make it.

You’ve been on the road for about three and a half hours now, stopping to fill up your tank before you hit the city where it’ll cost more. Gotta be smart. When you climb back into your truck, you grab the map that’s on your leather passenger seat and take one more look at it. Your mom insisted on marking the backroads way after a certain time on the freeway to get there with a red sharpie, and honestly, you’re glad she did because otherwise you’d be fucked.

“Just gotta take Fruit Ridge for another ten miles, then take a right on 28th St. ‘n I’m downtown. Perfect,” You tell yourself as you drag your index finger along the red line that leads to your destination. Thank you mama, setting the map down, you put your truck in drive and you’re on your way once again.

The warm summer breeze flows through the open windows of your truck, drying the sweat that’s appeared on your skin, the fresh air rushing up your nose with undertones of country life. The drive has been nothing but sunshine and peace, no one tailing you and no one being an ass in front of you - pretty much just you and a couple cars here and there.

You only have about two miles until you hit 28th St. and the anticipation is starting to hit you. The adrenaline is coursing through your body.

Am I really ready for this?

Can I do this without my mom?

Yes, I can do this by myself, I got this.

Your mind won’t stop racing like the cars and trucks that fly past you, going the other direction, away from the city. You’re starting to get cold feet as you get closer and closer. But, you’ve already made it this far, I can’t back out now.

As you take a deep breath in and out, the back of your head leans back onto the headrest when you notice the large green sign on your right side. You raise your head forward so you can read it clearly.

George Washington College 3 Miles, with a white arrow pointing East.

A soft smile takes over the worried expression you had a minute ago, and you turn onto 28th St., where the scenery changes instantly. Smaller homes and apartments on either side of the road, and people spread all over the yards and sidewalks, unlike the trees and farms that you drove past. A sense of security comes over you, I made it.

Now feeling calm and put together, you can enjoy the last bit of the ride there. With your right hand on the steering wheel and your left arm hanging out the window, the sound of the radio escapes from your vehicle along with the rumble of your engine.

“You’re listenin’ to Classic Hits FM with Doug n’ Carrie. N’ that was The Whispers with their hit, Rock Steady. One of my favorites, what ‘bout you Carrie?”

“I mean how can it not be? But this next one is my all-time favorite right now, can you take a guess at who?”

“Lemme guess, somethin’ by Fleetwood Mac?”

“The one and only Fleetwood Mac, you’re right Doug! My girl Stevie Nicks, the white witch. God I love her! Here’s Seven Wonders, their most recent single that’s been at number one for the last month!”

So Long ago,

Certain place, certain times

You touched my hand on the way, on the way to Emmeline

But if our paths never cross

Well, you know I’m sorry, but

If I live to see the Seven Wonders…

“I’ll make a path to the rainbows end! I’ll never live to match the beauty again, the rainbow's edge.” You sing with a smile large enough to be seen from the sidewalk where a range of people walk up and down.

The beautiful view of the pale brick pillars that hold the black metal gate in between them reads, Professors Gate on the top. I made it.

—

“Knock knock!”

You spin your body around to face the door and your face lights up at the sight of the shorter young lady in front of you.

“Bella! Oh my god!” You yell and run towards her with open arms, “What are you doing here?” You wrap your arms around her, as she does the same. The dorm room fills with laughs and mumbles of words from the both of you.

“I wanted to surprise you, and it worked!” She says into your shoulder as the two of you rock side to side, still holding each other.

“Hell yeah it did!” You step away from her and then the realization hits you, “Wait, is this your dorm?” Your arms wave around to show you meant the room you two are standing in. All she does is nod her head with a huge grin showing off her pearly white teeth, oh my god, no way, you screech again.

You and Bella met in fourth grade and have been best friends ever since. She too only lives and speaks with her mom, and it’s kind of scary to know that someone else has lived your life - but it’s also relieving in a way because you’re not alone, and you can talk about your feelings without feeling judged.

“Criminol-“

“-logy, yes!”

She finishes your question before you can even ask it, something the two of you do subconsciously at this point. Which fits because the two of you are like twins, not identical but the way your minds work together us incredible, and the two of you also share the same birthday, June eleventh, nineteen sixty-six.

The two of you unpack and begin to make the dorm into a comfortable space for the both of you. You and Bella ramble on and on about the drive here and how sad you both felt for leaving your moms at home by themselves. She traveled here about a month earlier than you, her boyfriend needed help moving his things into his apartment - he too is attending Washington College. But you and her knew that this was the best decision, neither of you could stay in Roanoke any longer.

After you both are happy with your sides of the room, it’s about eight at night, the sun has just about set, creating a beautiful pink and orange sky. The two of you kept getting distracted by certain items one of you found while unpacking or just by simple conversation, hence why it took so long.

“Wanna get takeout and watch Dirty Dancing?” You ask Bella as you plop down on your twin sized mattress that’s covered by a sage green blanket. Her face lights up, “What kinda question is that? Of course I do, Domino’s?”

You cock your head to the side and give her an are you really asking? kind of look and she just laughs as she stands from her bed and walks towards the phone that’s on the table on the other side of the room. She picks up the red telephone and dials Domino’s number that you both know by heart, but you realize that you’re not at home, so she must’ve ordered from the one around here in the time she’s been here.

“Hi! Order for pick-up please,” Bella chimes as she wraps the cord around her fingers and sits on the table next to the matching cherry red base. “Bella works, um, I would like-“

She goes on to list her pizza order and your garlic bread balls with chicken wings without any hesitation. After so many years of being friends you know each other's orders like the back of your hands.

“Twenty minutes? Awesome, thank you!” She hangs up the red phone with a click, and hops off the table, “Get dressed, we’re gonna walk. There’s too much traffic to drive there n’ back.”

“So you know where we’re goin?”

“Duh, it’s been my favorite place to get food since I’ve been out here. Now c’mon!”

Okay okay, you concede, shaking your head and laughing as you grab a thin gray hoodie and slip it over your head, then grabbing your black and white Nike air forces and slipping them on. C’mon, Bella drags out with a whine as she stands in the doorway holding the door open, you’re standing in front of the long mirror by your bed just making sure you don’t look too crazy you’re first time out in public in the new city.

“God, you’re so impatient.”

“You should be concerned the day that I’m not, that’s when you know something’s wrong!”

You both laugh as you make your way down the dorm hallway and out into the beautiful summer night air to go pick up your delicious food. When you reach the courtyard, you observe clusters of people spread across the grass. One group of women and men are sitting in a circle, one man has an acoustic guitar and looks like the group is just listening and watching his technique.

Another group of men are sitting on the wood picnic tables as they gaze at the courtyard, much like you are, but they’re whistling and hollering at girls who walk by their table. Not surprised. Then there’s one other group, which looks to be mainly women with a few men scattered and they have a boombox next to their picnic table as they start a dance routine, it looks like they’re practicing for something.

“That’s the dance team, I think we should join,” Bella interrupts your observation, causing you to think back to middle and high school. You and Bella were captains of the dance team for five years, it was one of the main reasons you guys are as close as you are.

As you exit the courtyard and start on the sidewalk, put your hands in the front pocket of your hoodie and turn your face to look at her for a second before you answer. “Maybe, just maybe.”

—

BEEP, BEEP, BEEP, BEEP

Ughhh, you groan rolling over and slamming your hand on the boxy alarm clock on your bedside table as you sit yourself up, raising your arms to stretch your limbs and yawing from exhaustion. After a moment you turn your attention to Bella’s bed and notice that she’s not there. Confusion takes over your sleepy mind. Where the hell did she go?

You gain enough strength in your tired body to hop off your bed and walk over to the table that holds the telephone, where a yellow sticky note lays on it.

Morning sleepyhead!! My first class starts at 7, I’ll be back around noon! I hope your first class goes well baby, love you!! <3 Bella

You smile at her note and stick it next to the red base of the phone. You turn around and look at the clock, 8:40 AM. Okay, I have forty-five minutes to get there. You shake yourself to wake up fully and you begin to pick out of your brown dresser, a pair of jean shorts and a black, thick strapped tank-top, with your classic black and white Nike shoes. Then sitting criss-cross on the floor in front of the mirror, you do your hair and makeup for the day.

After finishing everything, you glance back at the clock and it reads 9:08 AM. Shit, you mutter, swiftly grabbing your black Jansport backpack that’s filled with notebooks and utensils for class, and your schedule with your professors and lectures on it. Then you're out the door, down the same hallway from last night, but instead of going out to the courtyard, you continue down the hall towards the classrooms.

Psychology 101, 101, you repeat as you search the hall for the door that reads the lecture number. After passing about five classrooms, you finally find the right one. The silver plaque on the wood door reads, Psychology 101, Doctor Joel Miller. You glance down at your watch and relax your shoulders when you notice you’re early by just about ten minutes, so you don’t have to rush or worry about being late.

Might as well go in now and get my seat, you think as you reach your hand on the silver handle and gently pull the door towards you. When you open it, the first thing you observe is who you can assume is the professor writing something on the chalkboard. You can't believe that he is your professor. His cream button up shirt is tight around his biceps and chest, but loose around his lower abdomen where the bottom is tucked into his khaki pants. His brown, loosely curled hair is combed to look nice and not messy. His thick beard to match has you feeling like a child with a stupid crush.

His attention turns to you and he smiles, his round glasses fall a bit down his nose as he tilts his head forward to take you in. Wow, he’s hot.

“Hi, I’m here for your class,” you chime, walking into the large room and turning your head to the left to observe the seats and to your surprise it’s about half full, turning your attention back to him, “thought I would come a bit early.”

“That’s a good idea, I admire the dedication. Don’t let it fade away, darlin’, okay? But, your name is?” Dr. Miller steps away from the board and meets you halfway to greet you. You firmly shake his hand and share your first and last name. Well welcome to Psych. 101, dear, he tells you and winks when he lets your hand go.

Thank you, sir, you smile and turn to head towards the stairs on the edge of the room, so you can claim a seat. You observe the other students here, a couple pairs of friends scattered throughout the seats just talking away, and then the loners, you guess you could call them. But the person who catches your full attention is the man who can’t be much older than you, sitting alone in the second row at the top. He has this longer black hair sort of combed back, but not insanely gelled, with his round thin glasses, and a facial structure that’s sharp and soft at the same time.

Holy shit.

You’ve never been shy to men, you actually tend to be more confident than most, usually making the first move. It’s just something your mom and Bella have instilled in you throughout the years. So you decide to take a shot with this handsome young man in front of you.

“Is this seat taken?”

The intelligent looking man picks his head up from his desk to look at you a few feet away from him, pointing at the chair next to his. He takes a second before he answers, “Um, I don’t think so.”

“Perfect. Thought I’d keep you company up here. Ya know, since you’re all by yourself ‘n all,” you slightly tease with a smirk as you slide your bag off of your right shoulder and set it on the carpeted floor next to the wooden chair.

He chuckles watching you sit down in the seat only a mere three feet away from him, “Oh, did you now?”

“Yes, sir. So, are you gonna tell me your name or am I gonna have to pry that information outta you too?” You laugh as you put your right elbow on the long table in front of you and rest your cheek in the palm of your hand, looking into his beautiful, cognac colored eyes just waiting for his smooth voice.

“Aaron Hotchner, and yours?”

“That was easier than I thought,” you joke before you repeat your name once again, which you feel like you’ll be doing a lot these next couple weeks. You carefully watch his expressions and listen to the inflictions in his voice when he does speak.

He smiles and leans back in his chair, crossing his arms gently as he replies, “That’s surely a beautiful name. May I ask where you’re from? Your accent isn’t from here.”

“Roanoke, Virginia, born and raised. What about you, Aaron?”

“Aah, that’s it, I should’ve guessed. Manassas actually, not too far from here. Just about a two and a half hour drive, depending on the traffic.”

“Wait,” you start before sitting up and leaning your other arm on the back of the chair and using your hands to talk, “so you’re telling me, you’ve lived in Virginia your whole life right?”

Aaron nods his head with a slight smirk on his face, watching you trying to put the pieces together.

“But you don’t have any kinda accent? Like, just none whatsoever?” Your voice raises a bit towards the end of your question, just because you’re genuinely curious on how this man doesn’t have any sort of accent or country twang to it at all.

“That’s right-“

Before Aaron can fully answer your question, he gets interrupted by Dr. Miller, “Welcome to Psychology 101, my dear students. I am Doctor Joel Miller and I will be your professor for this class.”

You and Aaron quickly stop your conversation and focus on Dr. Miller who’s introducing the course to everyone. You were so caught up in conversation that you didn’t even notice the seats that were empty, are now full. After a minute, out of the corner of your left eye you watch as Aaron slides a small piece of paper over to you. Without looking at him, you grab the note and look at it.

My phone number, 202-896-0089 ;)

You fold up the paper and put it in your back pocket. Quickly, you glance over to Aaron and you notice he has this cocky smirk that fades just as fast as it appeared. Your stomach is flipping with joy and anticipation, you wonder what this could turn into. Turning your full attention to the front of the classroom, the eye candy of a professor, Dr. Miller is back by the chalkboard, going over the syllabus for the class.

[chemblrish]

Maria Skłodowska-Curie. That's it, that's the post.

As per my poll, here's a post on MSC!

This post began as a bit of a messy thing. I wanted to write about MSC because she was a brilliant Polish woman who became one of the most important scientists of modern chemistry and physics and I, as a Polish woman and a science major, admire her greatly. But the whole thing was vague and lacked direction. I received some kindly advice though and decided to focus on this: what was Maria like? Everybody knows she had an exceptional mind, that she had close ties with Paris, that she discovered radium and polonium, that she received the Nobel prize twice… But did you know she was said to have “serious, gray eyes” or that her initial plan was to spend her life working as a teacher or that she loved her homeland deeply? Underneath her doubtlessly exceptional achievements she was a person, and I’d love to take a look at that.

Maria Skłodowska ("skwo-DOV-ska") was born on 7 November 1867 in Warsaw under Russian occupation. Her father was a mathematics and physics teacher, so it may seem natural that little Maria took an interest in science, but as a child she was a phenomenal student in general, no matter the subject; she read a lot of books, and she learnt to read very early. She was considered very gifted. 

Her family wasn’t rich by any means. Maria’s father – a Polish man, a school teacher under the tzar’s merciless reign – knew very well he couldn’t afford to give all his children the education he wanted for them, not to mention neither Maria nor her older sister Bronia were allowed to attend university in occupied Poland. Making their dreams come true – studying at the Sorbonne – depended on the money they didn’t have.

At 17 Maria made a decision: she was going to work as a teacher while Bronia pursued medicine in Paris with the help of the money earned by Maria. After Bronia’s graduation they would switch: Bronia was going to work as a doctor while Maria attended university.

It was by no means an easy task. During the following years Maria had to withstand not only immensely hard work and a longing for learning, but also unfair employers, lack of respect, and heartbreak. But she persisted. She was 24 when finally she was able to pack up and take the train to Paris.

[source]

Soon after taking up her studies at the Sorbonne did Maria realize how far behind the other students she was: they were able to pursue an official education in a free country, something she’d never gotten to experience before. She had been an excellent student back in Poland, a fluent French speaker, but now it turned out her knowledge was lacking. Obviously, this couldn’t discourage her. Bronia’s husband Kazimierz wrote in a letter to her father that Maria would spend entire days at her university, only coming home in the evening. She worked admirably hard to catch up. And she was happy: at long last she could study science and mathematics in depth, the way she had longed to do for so many years.

Of course, money never stopped being an issue. Even with her father’s and sister’s help, she was still poor. She definitely wasn’t eating enough. In winter, she was cold. Other than that, she mostly gave up on her colleagues, refused to waste her time on “insignificant” things: that is, everything but studying, unfolding the secrets of chemistry and physics, practicing her laboratory skills. She was living and breathing science.

[left / right]

Pierre Curie was older, an exceptional physicist, charming and calm, still unmarried at 35 – he wouldn’t love a woman who couldn’t be first and foremost his intellectual partner. But Maria wasn’t looking for love and she certainly wasn’t looking for a marriage. She had a degree in physics, was on her way to get a degree in mathematics as well, all the while working on the magnetism of steel. And indeed, when they met through a professor who thought Pierre might be of help to young Maria, it was mostly curiosity, mutual respect, and primarily a great scientific interest that bloomed between them and brought them closer together.

Maria didn’t give in easily. All along her plan had been to earn her degrees and return to Warsaw, to her elderly father, and remain working as a teacher for the rest of her life. But there’s no doubt that when she eventually agreed to marry Pierre, it was out of genuine, deep love. They had a sincere, precious connection, both emotional and intellectual.

Did you know Maria and Pierre loved to travel the countryside on their bikes? They did. It’s how they spent most of their time together after their wedding. And not for a moment did they forget about their shared passion for science – they discussed it even during their travels. They lived together and they worked together. Their first child Irène – future Nobel prize winner as well! – was born in September 1897, Ève – their younger daughter – seven years later.

Pierre’s family adored Maria, Maria’s family loved Pierre. The two of them would frequently visit Pierre’s parents and they continued their biking trips, but other than that their life was utterly devoted to science. I know, it sounds like I’m exaggerating, but it’s true. Along with the fact they always had very little money, work was all they had.

Radium appeared in Maria’s life when she was working on her doctorate. Her laboratory was cold, damp, and badly equipped, but it seems to me Maria’s determination was inexhaustible. She began by studying uranium, but she soon figured out she had to include other elements in her research as well in order to solve the mystery at hand. It was only after a year of this work that Maria realized she might have discovered an element previously unknown.

Pierre was interested in Maria’s research before, but – save from the occasional advice as an older and more experienced scientist – he mostly left her to do her own thing while he focused on his crystals. At this point however, he was so intrigued he abandoned his research to work with Maria on her project. In 1898 (two years into Maria’s PhD work!) they published a paper together – in it they announced the discovery of a new element: polonium, named after Maria’s beloved homeland. Later that year, they did the same for radium. They coined the term “radioactivity”.

Maria kept a meticulous journal, not only for her laboratory work. She was carefully tracking their spending as well as Irène’s development, the way she learnt to walk and speak and play with their cat.

And so, her life continued: filthy, hard work in the infamous shed, a ton of an ore for less than a gram of product (!), countless papers published with her dearest husband, watching their daughter grow, earning her doctorate degree; then, in 1903, her first Nobel prize (along with her husband and Henri Becquerel).

The Nobel prize brought Maria and Pierre fame – and it was a tragedy. For them, at least. Modest and humble as they were, they couldn’t stand the journalists almost storming their garden, going as far as “describing [their] black and white cat [in the newspapers]” as Pierre said in a letter to a friend. I allowed myself to translate a piece of a letter that Maria sent to her brother in 1904 amid the post-Nobel craze, as it’s both sad and hilarious:

“I wish you health [for your name-day], well-being for all of your family, and for you never to experience the sort of correspondence and assault that we are now subjected to. Ever since that accursed Nobel prize we’ve been unable to do anything, and I’m beginning to ask myself if the money we received will be of any consolation, as, after all, the people who sell me meat, coal, sugar, etc. are richer than me yet they do not experience such sorrows. […] and yesterday some American wrote to me, asking for permission to name a race horse after me.”

Maria’s life took a truly sharp turn when Pierre died in an accident in 1906. Despite the tragedy that irreparably crushed her heart, she never ceased her work. She became a professor, organized classes for her and her friends’ kids, ran the Radium Institute, continued her research, received her second Nobel prize. During World War I it was her mobile X-ray machines that saved countless lives: she was active and involved, operating the machines with her older daughter and teaching others how to do it.

[left / right]

She lived long enough to see her dear, beloved Poland become an independent country once more. To the very end she remained humble and uninterested in fame, hardworking and dedicated entirely to science.

I based this post mostly on Madame Curie by her daughter Ève which I highly recommend!