#i’ll think of a queue tag later

[peanutbutterandsadness50]

No one:

Andy: *giving the most gut wrenching, soul-baring performance you’ve ever seen*

[quietlyblooms-gone]

alright, friends, it's time for a lil heart-to-heart.

for quite a while now, i've struggled with feeling like the rpc is an actual community. there's a few things that contribute to this feeling, but it mostly comes down to a lack of interaction and visible interest. sometimes i feel very one-sided in my interest and attachment to my mutuals bc when i see their ooc posts or headcanons, i like them or comment, yet this isn't reciprocated by everyone. i can usually guess who i'm about to see in my notifications, and to be absolutely clear, i'm very grateful for those people!! it's a handful or two of you, but it could be just one and i'd be grateful. it's not about numbers whatsoever but rather growing uncomfortable that not all of my mutuals are all that interested in my character or me.

i write on here to share the excitement of creating with other people. i write on here to create together, too, but i'm also here to share characters and ideas and lore with people i know are happy to hear me ramble. i'm just getting to the point in which i'm questioning how many of you are actually happy to listen, and that's just not a good feeling at all. i'm not a mind reader, y'all. if you don't tell or show me that you care about the things i talk about or even about interacting, there's no way for me to know. eventually, i'm going to question why you're following me if i never see or hear from you, and eventually, i'm going to softblock and move on. that's the only way forward i see right now because i just do not feel comfortable on my own blog. i feel like i'm retreating into this quiet bubble to avoid discomfort, and it really sucks. it's killing my muse.

i'm not perfect. none of us are, and we can't be online at all times to catch every little post. but if we're a community, then we should be supporting each other when we can and liking headcanons, liking/commenting on those lil ooc posts that remind us our writing partners are humans with lives outside this site, reblogging their promo posts, sending in that meme they've reblogged even if we're nervous to reach out first -- if we're a roleplaying community, then we need to act like it. " community " implies connection, and a connection doesn't really begin when you follow each other. it begins when you reach out, even if it's in some small way.

tldr: i think we can all do better to support our mutuals and to connect, and i'm going to softblock people rather than continue to feel unsure where i stand with my mutuals. i won't start until sometime next week, and i won't make one of those " like this to remain mutuals " posts. they're not helpful to me, if i'm honest. if you're worried, just reach out. i'm literally a 4'9'' gremlin who sleeps with a m.unchlax plushie -- i promise i'm not scary despite this post uvu

[sadquickchristmassnowman]

just in class, being completely normal when my professor clicks to the next slide in her presetation and

wait a damn minute.

THE CAST OF THE 2009 NBC SITCOM COMMUNITY??? what are they doing in the middle of a presentation about culturally responsible music pedagogy 🤨🤨🤨

(read like that one neil gaiman falafel tiktok audio)

[cryscendo]

kurt hummel in every performance

3x02 - I Am Unicorn

Something’s Coming - Blaine Anderson

[readwritealldayallnight]

Right With You (Part 3)

Captain John Price x Reader

wc: 6.7k words

(18+ MDNI) warnings/tags: fluff, mutual pining, tension, smut, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, no protection (use protection kids!!), finishing inside🫣

You might have bitten off more than you could chew this time.

The sound of your heels clicking and clacking against the marble floor are completely drowned out by the din of the many hundreds of party goers mingling throughout the lavish ballroom, glasses clinking together in cheers, uproarious laughter bellowing out between songs being played by the live musicians. The outskirts of the room are difficult to maneuver without bumping into one another, as the centre of the space has been cleared for dancing.

You’ve been inside the target’s home for all of five minutes and you’re already feeling like you’re way in over your head. You know that amongst the elegantly dressed men and women, there are people here on your side, posing as guests but keeping an eye out for your safety. They’re connected to the comms, as are the approaching men of the 141, intent on finding their own way in as well.

You should really only be using your earpiece if you have no other choice, the whole point of this operation being to go as undetected as possible. If a scene can avoid being made altogether, all the better. You know better than anyone that if John the men hear you sounding anything other than confident over the line, they’ll be barging in, stealth be damned. Right now however, you’re almost wishing you could use it if only to get some help in spotting your target amongst all the moving faces.

Before either of you had even had the mansion in sight, John was directed to pull the car into the long queue of vehicles slowly making their way in the direction of the actual driveway. He’d sent you a glance in the rear view mirror, his eyes betraying the gears that were already beginning to turn in his mind. There might be more people in attendance tonight than expected.

“You’re trying to tell me all these people are also fashionably late?” You’d question, eyeing the long line of fancy cars in front of you, another one having already pulled in behind you. You were purposefully showing up several hours after the party began, the more guests there were there the easier you could blend in. And the later the party, the more intoxicated and distracted party goes would be. But this seemed like a lot of people to still be showing up considering the increasingly late hour.

“I think there might be a guest list we don’ know about.” He had gritted out, gripping the steering wheel with more force. “Or they’re lettin’ any fuckin’ muppet walk in-”

“John,” you’d cut him off. “It’s fine, this doesn’t change anything. Might just take me longer to spot him, but we’ll manage.”

“Gonna be harder for ‘em to keep sights on ya.”

“Well then when I need help I’ll be sure to wave a hand up in the air so they can see me.” You had attempted to joke, but you’d spotted the near imperceptible narrowing of his eyes in your direction. “John, they are there as a precaution. I won’t even need ‘em, you’ll see. What? Unless you don’t believe that I can seduce a man?”

Though he had only been moving at a snails pace with the cars still ahead of him, the mansion only then coming into view around the bend, John slammed on the breaks, lurching you forward ever so slightly at the sudden stop.

“Seducing is not your job tonight.” His knuckles had gone white he gripped the steering wheel so tight before he’d released his death grip, rubbing his eyes in exasperation. “You are a soldier, that’s the only job you’ll do tonight.”

“My superiors have asked me to sneak into a party, discreetly convince a man to follow me to a room alone together, and gave me this to wear as gear.” You emphasized, waving a hand down at your attire. He didn’t want to take the bait, but while you’re in that dress and close enough he can smell the sweet smell of your perfume, he’s a weaker man then he’d like to admit. He glanced down at your figure, admiring not of the first time tonight how utterly ravishing you appear.

You weren’t trying to complain, you yourself had agreed that the plan made sense, but you also wanted him to be realistic here. The expectation was that you were going to get the target alone, as subtly as possible, whatever means necessary. At the very least you were going to be flirting and flattering your ass off tonight.

Undoing your seatbelt, you’d sat on the edge of your seat, inching closer to John in the driver’s spot, leaning in until your painted lips were mere millimeters from his ear, a soft hand landing on his shoulder.

“Orders are orders, after all.” Your lips barely grazed the shell of his ear as you whispered to him, trying to disperse his worries with your teasing. “I would never want to disobey my Captain.”

He’d let out a long, deep sigh through his flared nostrils, the internal conflict within him raging on. You were right, as odd as the circumstances of this mission were, it was nothing more than exactly that, another mission. They’d each been tasked with a job to do, and he knew that as with everything you set your mind to, you’d blow them all away.

As a Captain, he had full confidence in you as a soldier. But as nothing more than simply a man, who so rarely in his life allowed himself to be selfish and do something for no reason other than his own self centred wishes, a man who could no longer deny the way he was falling madly, deeply, irrevocably in love with a woman, well that man despised tonight’s plan.

The extravagant front entry of the target’s home was now within sight, multiple footmen waiting by to open the doors to arriving vehicles, welcoming guests and taking names. John knew you didn’t have much longer now before he’d have to let you go.

One of his hands snuck up to reach for yours, still laying as a delicately as a butterfly perched on his shoulder. His fingers gave yours a squeeze, thumb gently stroking the soft skin of your inner wrist.

While the thought of anyone other than him having the privilege of seeing you dressed up to the nines, getting to chat you up, putting his hands on you all under the guise of a respectable dance, got his blood boiling, he could never, would never ask you to go against your job.

Not for him, not for anyone. You were more than capable and had earned your position on this team. He wasn’t going to allow his rose tinted glasses to cloud his judgement, not even when the animalistic, testosterone raging, possessive side of him was pleading for the opposite.

“Well then your Captain’s orders, my dear,” he says in a low voice, stretching your hand far enough to plant a kiss onto it, unable to help himself really. “Are to knock ‘em dead. Not literally though, we do have questions for ‘im.”

You offered him a genuine smile, hearing the playfulness returning to his tone. Begrudgingly releasing your hand from his hold, John steered the car directly in front of the door, the heavy tint of the windows concealing him from any prying eyes.

“Sooner I’m in, sooner I’m out.” You reassured him. “Maybe I’ll have time to save you a dance.” You added at the end, catching his eye on final time, returning his nod subtle nod in the mirror just as your door was opened for you. As the footman offered you his hand, helping you out of the car and shutting the door behind you, John kept is gaze trained on you, not driving away until he saw you disappear through the doors, already counting down the seconds until he had you with him again.

A fake name given at the door, slightly modified version of the guest list having been slipped into the security’s grip earlier that evening, and you were allowed into the party without a second glance. Getting in was never going to be the challenging part of this operation. The challenge now was in spotting your target amongst the crowd.

Having decided the ballroom would likely be the best place to start, seeing as this was where the most people seemed to be gathering, you slowly strolled through the swarms of dresses and suits, wondering to yourself just how many of these people were involved in illegal affairs, and how many were feigning ignorance to their hosts choice of career.

Plucking a drink off the tray of a passing waiter, you brought the glass to your lips, taking the opportunity to more carefully glance through the many unknown faces. You manage to hide your grimace when a scratching noise comes through your earpiece for a moment, before a familiar Manchester accent crackles instead.

“Bravo 7 to Rookie. We’re in.” Ghost informs you. “Second floor. East wing. Guest room by the library.”

“We’ll cover the west side. Aim at taking the office on that end.” You’re less subtle at covering up the small gasp that slips from your mouth at the sound of John’s voice coming through the line. Clearing your throat, you take a small sip of whatever liquid you’ve grabbed, spotting another strolling waiter, sauntering over to her.

“Good, thank you.” You say, returning your still nearly full glass to her, speaking more in response to the men chatting in your ear than to the confused looking woman, who still smiles politely and takes the drink from you.

Knowing that the 141 are inside now, you go over the blueprints again in your mind, picturing where they are, taking a deep breath to steel yourself as you continue your search. Continuously bumping elbows with everyone gathered on the edges on the ballroom, yours and many others heads turn when a large group of gathered men all burst into uproarious laughter. Scanning the faces of the well-dressed guests, you nearly do a double take, eyes landing on the face you’ve spent countless hours memorizing.

Your target is stood there, one arm holding onto his friends shoulder as he continues to laugh in the way only rich men with no problems can. He and his friends are evidently intoxicated, each with a drink in hand, if not two. The man stood directly in front of him is telling the apparently hilarious story, hands waving about as he animatedly gestures, alcohol sloshing out of his glass.

An idea comes to mind, and you see your opportunity present itself before you on a golden platter. Slipping through the crowd, you come around the other side, so that you’re walking in your target’s direction, in his line of sight. You purposefully slow down your gait, running a hand through your hair carelessly, eyes gazing about the room absentmindedly, you even slightly push your chest out, catching the man’s eye just as you come close to walking past his friend.

The drunk man continues to flail his arms and spill his drink carelessly, larger and larger spills landing on the marble floor. It looks purely accidental to anyone watching when you attempt to walk by him, his arm knocking you off balance, and your heeled foot slipping on his spilled alcohol. Luckily, someone catches you before you fall to the ground, a few small gasps ringing out front the people around you who notice your fall.

“You alright ma’am?” You look up at the man who caught you, wearing what appears to be an embarrassed smile when in actually is your attempt to conceal your satisfied smirk, glancing up at none other than your target.

“Oh! Well, suppose I am better now.” You murmur with a small giggle tacked on at the end just for show. Based off the way this man’s eyes have yet to meet your face, gazing down only at your chest, you’re thinking this whole plan is about to be a lot easier than anyone anticipated.

“Sound like she’s made contact.” You hear Soap’s accent ring out through the earpiece.

Oh, right. They get to listen in on your interaction with the target thanks to the open comm line on your end. Good, in the sense that they’ll know which direction you’re headed in and will be ready, not so good, in the sense that John is about to overhear every word of your faux flirting.

“You’ll have to excuse my friend,” he finally breaks eye contact with your cleavage and pulls you up to stand, noticeably keeping his touch on you. “We were just cutting him off for the night, in fact, but are you sure you’re alright?”

He’s got one hand on your waist, the other is holding onto you elbow to steady you. You open your mouth to politely insist again that you’re okay, when he interrupts.

“Please, allow me to get you a drink. The very least I can do.” He implores, hardly waiting for your reply before he begins to lead you by the arm, in search of said refreshment.

“I don’t believe we’ve met before.” You say to him, batting your eyelashes at him when he offers you a glance.

“Trust me darling, I would remember meeting someone like you.” He doesn’t even attempt to hide the way he scans you up and down, ogling every bit of skin that your dress reveals, leaving you feeling exposed, though you hide any trace of discomfort behind a flirtatious facade.

“Someone like me?” You question coyly.

Your new friend walks you into an adjoining room where a bartender is mixing drinks for the dozens of people milling about the space. Sliding up to the edge of the bar, he leans against the bar top and signals to the man working.

“Certainly you must know how, appetizing you look this evening.” Your face does not betray the way his words make you groan internally, fighting not to roll your eyes. The bartender approaches, and as your target is distracted for a moment, you glance at the new space, spotting a staircase leading to the second floor not far around the corner. With how easy everything has been thus far, you wonder if you’re pushing your luck by trying to expedite the process even further.

As the target turns his attention back to you, beginning to introduce himself, you bring a hand to your forehead, interrupting him.

“I’m sorry, I’m starting to feel a bit dizzy actually.” You say, shaking your head when he sets the drinks down and goes to pull out a bar stool for you. “You wouldn’t know of anywhere you could help me sit down, would you?” You slowly reach a hand out, to stroke his hand. “Somewhere you could help me lay down, maybe?”

You watch the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows harshly, eyes widening slightly in surprise at your suggestion, before quickly turning to excitement.

“Lucky for you ma’am, I’m good friends with our host tonight.” He snakes an arm around your waist, drinks long forgotten, and you’re relieved when you see he’s leading you towards the very staircase you were hoping he would take. “I know just the place.”

“Are we allowed to go upstairs?” You giggle obnoxiously, letting your men know that you and the target are on the move.

“Copy. Target’s headed for second level.” Ghost acknowledges over the line. As you come to the top of the staircase, blueprints sprawling through your head to picture where your teammates are currently placed, you realize that against your better odds, he doesn’t try to lead you towards either the east or west wing.

“Like I said princess, you’re in good hands.” Instead of leading you towards the 141, your prince charming is supposedly headed towards the washroom at the top of the landing, exactly in the middle ground where your team could not go, due to the handful of security guards patrolling the hallways. You’ve no doubt that in each of the rooms that the men were waiting for you in, there likely lay a few injured guards that had been tasked with watching those unfortunate quarters.

You knew your luck was going to run out eventually, but now you had to think fast and on your feet. Sliding out of the man’s grasp, you took a step away from him, tracing a finger along the bannister in a way you hoped came across as seductive.

“I don’t know. I feel like maybe I’ve been a bit too easy on you.” You wink for added emphasis that you’re trying to toy with him now. “I don’t even know your name.”

“Nor do I know yours.” He tried to challenge, raising a brow at your behaviour, though still slowly stalking towards you, not yet willing to let you go. “We do not need names to be friends, do we?”

“How do I know what kind of man you are, hm?” You question him, continuing your slow walk backwards, eyes scanning the room and you realize you’re slinking towards the west wing. Price and Gaz. They said they would be in the office in the west wing. You just have to get him there.

“I did help you just now, did I not? I believe I am a good man. Let me show you how good I can be.”

“And if I wasn’t looking for a good man? What then, hm?” He halts momentarily in his steps as he continues to follow you in what he believes is a game of playful banter, foreplay if he’s lucky. You’ve spotted a total of three guards so far, though none of them are very near this moment. Making up your mind, you steady yourself as you say, “What if I wanted someone who would chase me?”

Still keeping him in sight, you quicken your pace, hoping that he really will gave chase to you, allowing you to lead him like a fly to a trap.

“Whatever the lady wants.” He humours you, following you when you break into a sprint without hesitation, hoping your memory is doing you justice and the door you’re headed towards is indeed the one concealing one half of the 141. The sound of both your pairs of footsteps echoing down the corridor, you’re gripping the door handle the moment it’s within reach, turning to glance over your shoulder, seeing your target is only a few paces behind you.

You shove the door open with your shoulder, and just as you’d planned in all those briefings, you enter the room, grip never leaving the door, allowing the target to follow you in, and shut the door behind you, revealing the two large men who’d been hiding behind it, now with guns trained on the man before them. Before he even realizes what’s happening, Price has got him knocked out cold, hitting him with the blunt end of his weapon, letting his body crumple to the ground where he falls unconscious on the spot.

You’re thinking up a clever response to say about how easy this mission has been, before either of them can beat you to it, when your earpieces all buzz apiece.

“Alpha 5 to Bravo 6. Over.”

“Go for Bravo.” Price replies, pressing his finger to his ear, stepping over the unconscious target to come closer to you. Gaz has crouched down, examining the target, preparing to restrain him for transport back to base.

“Guards saw a woman get chased by a man on the second floor. They’ve sent someone to check it out, you’ve got one headed your way now. Less than 30 seconds.”

At those words, the three of you are glancing at each other, before Price is already acting.

“Garrick, help me get his jacket off then get him out of sight.” He orders his sergeant, who without question begins assisting the captain in removing the target’s suit jacket, before dragging the unconscious man towards the window they had apparently entered from. To your utter bewilderment, Price’s fingers then begin working speedily at his own tactical vest, pulling it over his head and off of himself, tossing it in Gaz’s direction.

“What are you doing?” You ask him, half wondering if he’s forgotten you can’t actually read his mind. He’s continuing to pull weapons off of himself until there’s nothing left, leaving them with Gaz.

“Guards saw two people walk in here, then two people will walk out.” He says, slipping the man’s jacket on over his shoulders. Price’s shoulders are without a doubt wider and bulkier, the sit being too small, but it’s not so bad that he looks outright odd. “Trust me here, love.” He asks of you, receiving a nod from your part instantly.

All in the blink of an eye, Gaz has tossed the equipment out the open window, and is carrying the unconscious target over his shoulder as he slips out that same window and vanishes out of sight. The door to the room is being tossed open, and John is grabbing you with a force you haven’t personally felt from him before. One of his large hands is in your hair, the other is grabbing the fat of your ass, and he pulls you flush against his own body, sealing his warm lips to yours in a kiss so passionate, so needy, it knocks the breath out of you.

“Oy!” The guard shouts at you two. “Fuck are you twos doing up here?”

“Sorry ‘bout that, mate.” John breaks the kiss, before he answers apologetically, holding a single hand up in peace, the other keeping its tight grip on your behind. “The missus got a little eager. We’ll get going, don’t mean to be any trouble.”

Playing the part of a couple nearly caught in the act, John takes ahold of your hand and keeps his head ducked as he quickly leads you towards the door. You squeak out your own bashful ‘Sorry!’ as you step past the man, following along with John in your feigned shame at being caught. Your mind was absolutely reeling with all the adrenaline of the last five minutes coursing through your veins, your captain holding you against his muscled body being at the top of your list.

“Now hold on just a minute-” the guard tries to shout after you both, taking notice of John’s unusual appearance compared to the other well dressed men walking about, but the pair of you are hurriedly making your way towards your escape.

“Stay with me now.” Price gave your hand a reassuring squeeze as he keeps a steady pace down the hall, headed for the staircase, intent on making a swift exit.

“Bravo 6 to Bravo 7. Slight change o’ plans. Garrick’s got our target. Help ‘em get to the rendezvous point and Rookie and I’ll meet you there.” John hurriedly mumbles under his breath, placing a steadying hand on the small of your back as you begin to descend the steps.

“Copy. Out here.” The Lieutenant replies diligently.

“Nicely done, Rookie. Think that’s record time.” You hear Soap’s playful tone come through the earpiece.

“We’re not clear yet, Sergeant. Stay alert.” Price tells him as you both land back on the bottom step. With the guards now on higher alert, one likely still hot on your heels, you need to blend back in with the crowd before sneaking your way towards the first convenient exit, still keen on avoiding drawing any further attention to yourselves. With all the confidence in the world, your captains steady hand leads you back through the bar and into the still crowded ballroom, musicians instruments playing with an much enthusiasm as they had before.

John’s keen eyes spot the handful of security patrolling the room with their gazes scanning the crowd. Turning to face you now, John brings your clasped hands up higher, placing your free hand on his shoulder before landing his own palm on the small of your waist.

“John, what are we-” Your words are cut off as you recognize he’s placed you both in the familiar position for a waltz, your eyes looking up into his own with questions unspoken.

“Follow my lead.” He whispers to you so softly that you nearly miss it with the sound of the music picking back up. You don’t even need to answer him before your body is instinctually doing just that, following his lead as he begins to softly move to the beat of the song.

Your eyes never break apart from one another, gazes locked in their own private choreographed moment as the captain smoothly dances with you from one end of the room to the other, going unnoticed amongst the swarms of other dancing couples. His hold on you is searing hot, sending sparks shooting though every nerve receptor he touches. He’s feeling just as affected by you, his heart hammering in his chest so strongly he’s certain you must be able to feel it against your own sternum.

Spinning you close enough to the edge of the ballroom that the front entry is once again in sight, John needs only cast a glance to the door for you to understand his message, gripping your clasped hands tighter together. You offer him a small smile and nod in agreement, letting him know that yes, you’ll follow him anywhere.

“You should be sleeping. Sun’ll be up soon.”

You’re holding a steaming cup of tea in hand, one hand on your hip with a look on your face that says ‘Really?’ pointed at your captain who has yet to leave his office since you’d all returned from the mission hours ago. You slowly approach his desk, your feet eternally thankful for the comfort of your boots over the heels you’d ripped off. In the time since you’ve returned to base, the target’s been secured, you were all dismissed for the night as well as the following day, considering it already was the early morning hours of the next day. You’d combed your hair out of his hair sprayed style, wiped all traces of makeup off your face, intent on following your captain’s orders and making your way to bed.

“I won’t even bother telling you the same. Both know you wouldn’t listen.” You set the mug down on his desk for him, your hand lingering along the surface of the wooden top.

“Thank you.” He smiles gratefully up at you from his seat, genuinely appreciative of your thoughtful gesture at this late hour. “Though, think I’ve heard the lads arguin’ once or twice ‘bout how you’re the only one I do listen to.” John’s smile widens as he notices the faint blush creeping along the apples of your cheeks.

“Well,” you playfully rolls your eyes at his comment, coming to step nearer to the broad man, turning slowly to present him with the back of your dress.“Help me out of this thing would you? So I can actually get some sleep.”

The black of your dress is open down to the middle of your back, where a short zipper begins. You don’t need any help with it, you’d been able to put it on without issue before the mission. However as you stood in your room, preparing to take off the garment, you couldn’t erase the image in your mind of John’s eyes landing on your figure as he hungrily took in your appearance. You couldn’t forget the feeling of his wide hands holding you against him, pressing every inch of his muscled physique to yours, lips desperate to chase the taste of your mouth.

Your heated thoughts brought you to the small kitchenette in search of a glass of water to cool yourself down, however as your eyes landed on the kettle, and your thoughts continued to swarm your head, you’d begun heating up your Captain’s tea and walking in direction of his office before you’d been able to convince yourself it wasn’t a good idea.

Now, peering over your shoulder to see John’s face as he takes in the expanse of exposed skin displayed before him, his breath catching in his throat, grip tightening on his pen in hand, you’re certain this was an excellent idea.

Taking a deep steadying breath through his flared nostrils, John’s eyes meet yours, a playful mischief hidden behind his gaze as you recognize that he’s just as well aware you can undo your dress without his help, without his hands to assist you, but still taking the bait you offer him. Part of John’s chest had swelled up with pride when you’d led the target to him and Gaz earlier tonight, even knowing that the odds had been 50/50 depending which direction the target went towards. He’d only been more than happy to oblige when you, the cunning little spider, lead her fly into the trap of her web, and broke the bastard’s nose as if you’d served him up on a platter.

He feels almost similar now, a bug being led into your sticky trap, watching you dangle the enticing bait in front of him that could lead to his ultimate demise, his unavoidable detriment. Though from the look in his eyes, it seems more likely that John is the one intent on devouring you whole tonight. His throat bobs as he swallows, spinning his chair to face you better, hands twitching for a moment before he brings them to trace the edge of the fabric where your dress meets your bare skin.

Your own breath comes out as a soft gasp as the feeling of his digits teasing along your back, the warmth emanating from his touch a thousand times hotter than the blood pooling in your face. You can feel his hot breath fan across your skin, just as his fingers bring themselves to grip your zipper firmly. Achingly slow, dragging the process out as if to torture you, John inches the zipper down at a pace only a hardened military man could maintain when face to face with more and more of your bare body appearing before his eyes.

The both of you are now holding your breaths as he finally drags the last of the zipper open, his fingers now grazing the top of your ass. You hear him let out a deep sigh, before his hands are sliding along the smooth material of your dress, the chair creaking beneath him as he comes to stand behind you. His hands tease along your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake as his digits skim higher and higher up your back until he reaches your shoulders.

You can feel every inch of him pressed up against you from behind, his body emanating heat like a furnace. But more noticeably, you can feel his rock hard member through his slacks pressing up against the swell of your ass.

“You know how proud you made me today, hm?” He asks softly, before pressing a kiss to your temple. You feel hardly in control when your eyes flutter shut, leaning back to put your full weight against him, letting him embrace you like this. He brings his mouth lower to kiss your reddened cheek, your neck, behind your ear. “Had the muppet in the palm of your hand soon as he laid eyes on ya.” His warm breath is fanning across your skin, rolling your neck to the side to allow him better access.

“And who could fuckin’ blame him?” He nearly growls, slipping one of the thin straps of your dress off your shoulder, allowing it to fall down your arm, his palm now coming to land on your exposed, bare waist, fingers spreading wide as he takes in your softness. Your eyes open as you feel a finger stroking your cheek, tilting your face to meet his, his shining blue orbs, glazed over in obvious desire, asking what he dare not speak out loud. You nod all too eagerly, telling him everything he needs to know.

John’s hand is sliding away from your cheek, fingers dancing across your shoulders as he gently tugs at the final strap holding your dress up, the tension that has been building and heating between the two of you for far too long now coming to a head. As the fabric falls from your figure and pools at your feet, leaving you bare before your captain, wearing nothing more but the necklace he’d put on you only so many hours earlier. John wastes no time in pulling your lips to his, curious hands exploring the expanse of your skin as you practically melt into his touch.

His large hands are squeezing your waist, your hips, one hand is reaching to grab ahold of your breast, fingers teasing your sensitive nipple. He hears you try to hold back a small moan, and he thinks you’re the sweetest thing in the world. Believing that you can hold back any of your delicious sounds from him. In the blink of an eye, John is turning you around, clearing everything off his desk in quick swoop of his arm, before lifting you up by your thighs and seating you atop his desk.

“Now, gorgeous,” he says almost sternly, putting on a faux captain voice, though he’s certainly never sounded quite so lustful over comms before. “That’s the first and the last time that I ever want to hear you try and keep a single one of your pretty little noises from me. Understood?”

You’re nearly panting you’re breathing so hard, watching as John pulls his chair up and takes a seat in front of you, his hands coming to pull your legs further apart until his shoulders are between them your thighs, your face going beet red as his own head is merely inches from your bare, completely soaked folds. In reality, you had been dripping down your thighs since you’d walked into his office with nothing underneath your dress.

“Seeing as you did such a good job tonight however,” he adds, fingers massaging the soft skin beneath his touch. “and considering you never even gave the bastard a chance to ask you to dance,” his gaze locks with yours at that, his eyes communicating the sentiment behind his words. “Lettin’ your old captain steal a one from ya,” his mouth comes to plant a kiss on your thigh, then another, and another, working closer to your centre. “Suppose you deserve a reward.”

Your moan would be embarrassing if the feeling of his warm lips sucking your clit wasn’t so heavenly. He spreads you open, tongue working at your sensitive bud with a fervour only a starving man could match. He is starved for you, has been since he’s met you and now that he’s tasting you, he doesn’t know how he’s survived without it. He can’t decide which is sweeter, your taste or the noises you make, so responsive to his touch, as if you were an instrument he’d memorized the most beautiful melodies to.

As his tongue continues to work feverishly at your nub, one of his fingers comes to tease your throbbing hole. His digit slowly slips in until he reaches his knuckle, slipping back out, wasting no time before slipping in a second, earning a lustful gasp from above him. Your hands are threaded in his hair, trying not to rock against him, but quickly losing grip of your self control, as he brings you closer and closer to that peak.

His two fingers begin to curl inside you, searching for that soft, sweet spot that has you seeing stars when he reaches it with his long, skilled digits. Your thighs are beginning to shake, one of his hands coming to steady you, but never dropping his pace, as his tongue and fingers work in tandem to bring you to that crest.

“Come on sweetheart,” he mumbles into you, his voice barely reaching your ears over the sounds of your own pleasure. “Give it to me. I’ve got ya, cum for your captain. Give me a good one.” Before he’s reattaching his lips to your wet folds, attacking your clit with renewed vigour.

John clamps a hand over your mouth just in time to muffle your scream as you cum all over his hand and mouth, soaking his beard with your arousal, his movements never slowing down until you’re pushing his head away from you, unable to take any more of the intense pleasure having you seeing stars. The both of you are panting now, as he slips his hand away from your mouth and around to the back of your neck, standing to his full height before you. He’s memorizing the look on your face at this moment, the glazed expression over your features, eyes gazing longingly into his as though you’re the only two people on this base, maybe the world. Fuck, how he wishes he could give you the world.

He brings his lips to yours, caught up in his undeniable feelings for you, going much, much further than simple attraction. Yet he’s having a hard time thinking very hard about that, or anything at the moment, when you’re kissing him back with the same intensity, one of your hands sneaking down his torso, reaching for the front of his trousers.

John can’t help the deep groan that comes up his throat at the feeling of your hand wrapping around him through the fabric of his pants. All too eagerly, he’s fumbling with the buckle of his belt, never letting your lips separate from his. Practically ripping the belt out of its place, he tosses it aside, feeling your deft fingers quickly pulling at his zipper, glancing up to meet his eyes when your fingers creep along the edge of his boxers underneath.

He gives you a single, confident nod, torn between rolling his head back in pleasure and keeping his eyes locked on your every expression as you tug down his trousers and underwear together, freeing his aching cock. His member springs to life, precum beading at his red, swollen tip.

“John…” you murmur as you size up his cock, excited and equally concerned about his impressive length.

“I know love,” he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “We’ll make it fit.”

You spread your thighs wider, arms coming to wrap around John’s shoulders as he lines his cock up with your entrance, already groaning at the feeling of his head touching your warm, wet folds. The both of you gasp as he slips his tip inside you, foreheads pressed together, as one of his hands tenderly holds the back of your head, fingers threaded through your locks while the other wraps around your back to squeeze your hip, holding you close to him.

Inch by inch, John rolls his hips forward and back, taking his sweet, sweet time in discovering the bliss that is being inside of you, wrapped around you, simply being with you, until he’s filled you up entirely to his base, hairs at the base of his groin coming to rub against your already sensitive clit, creating a delicious friction that you know will have you finishing quickly already.

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart,” he groans out, rolling his hips back, earning a pleased moan from your lips as he rocks forward again, filling you completely. “Gonna be the death of me.”

You haven’t a single functioning brain cell left to answer him, and he knows it, your continuously flowing arousal seeping down between where the two of you are joined, echoing sinful sounds throughout the small room. As if your moans wouldn’t be evidence enough as to what was happening in Captain Price’s office, should anyone walk by. Keeping a steady pace, the captain fucks you against his desk relentlessly, earning more and more of those very noises from your lips.

“Oh my god, John! Oh fuck! John!” Hearing you, John feels like he’s about to burst. He hasn’t cum in ages, and he’s been so hard for so long now, he doesn’t think he can hold back much longer. Not when he’s hearing you whimpering his name so sweetly, not when you feel as incredible as you do wrapped around him like this, squeezing him so tight. He’s pressing hot, open mouth kisses against your neck, your collarbone, any skin his lips can reach.

“Love,” John grits out through a clenched jaw, holding himself back as best he can as he continues to move with you, bodies rocking back and forth as if in their own choreographed dance. “Where can I- where do you want me to-”

“Inside!” You plead wrapping your legs tighter around his waist. “Inside John, please! I’m- oh fuck!” You say as he delivers another deep thrust. “On the pill. I’m on the pill.”

John needs no further permission, his cock continuing to hit that sweet, sensitive spot inside of you, that has your eyes rolling back in please. Just as his fingers reach between your two bodies to press against you throbbing clit, you moan out his name, reaching your blissful peak for the second time tonight, all at your Captain’s doing. John groans out, feeling himself begin to burst, holding his hips against yours.

“Fuck!” He shoots thick, hot ropes of his spend deep into you, his member twitching inside. “I got you love.” He talks you through both your cresting orgasms, grinding impossibly further into you, never letting go of the tight hold he has around you. “I’m with you, love. Right with you.”

Later on, as he walks you back to your room, insisting he has to see you make it there safely even though it’s technically become so ‘late’ that some of the early risers are awake by now, John asks:

“You did have panties on under the dress durin’ the mission though, right?”

If you’ve made it to the end of my first ever completed series, then thank you for making it this far!

I felt very bleh about the ‘mission’ part of writing this but hopefully my first ever attempt at legitimate smut made up for it!

This is the end of this little three part series, but I’ve got some more Price fics lined up for sure

I know I said it in the initial disclaimer but seriously y’all, wrap it before you tap it, fan fiction is fiction, pregnancy and STDs are real, use protection! (But like me, read all the filthy, filthy fics your heart desires)

-M 🫶🏻

[asdfghjklmals]

MILESTONES✩༶‧˚

GENRE + T/W: sfw, fluff. suggestive comments. WORD COUNT: 6.0k words. TAGS: satoru gojo x fem!oc, dadtobe!gojo, pregnant!oc, established couple. a lil' jealous!oc.

SYNOPSIS: a compilation of short stories about the stages of pregnancy with oc gojo girlfriend and satoru. AUTHOR'S NOTE: please make sure to read 'accidents' before milestones. i couldn't have you guys miss out on oc gojo girlfriend and satoru's pregnancy journey. it was so fun to write this. a lot of research went into the baby gojo chronicles, i honestly think my fbi agent thinks i'm pregnant. REMINDER: if you want to imagine yourself in oc gojo girlfriend's character descriptions instead, please do!

8 weeks: the first pre-natal appointment

it has been two weeks since you and satoru decided that you were going to keep the baby. this week was your first pre-natal appointment to "meet" baby gojo. you couldn't tell who was more nervous, you or satoru.

during your appointment, satoru sat in the exam room as the nurse drew your blood to perform tests and to confirm the pregnancy. the nurse also performed a pap smear, which freaked satoru out after he saw what a speculum looked like. he said it looked like a 'torture chamber tool' and you wholeheartedly agreed with him.

you exchanged soft smiles with satoru multiple times throughout your appointment. satoru was engrossed with the entire process. his curiousness was adorable in your eyes as he asked your nurse questions about all the procedures and tests she was performing. about an hour later after receiving the results of your blood tests, your doctor entered the room.

“well, first things first, congratulations on your pregnancy (y/n)! your blood test came back positive with hcg.” your doctor began, “now let’s talk about some upcoming lifestyle changes you'll have to make.”

“wait, when do we get to see the baby?” satoru interrupted. you glared at him, dark green eyes telling him ‘shut up, satoru’.

“we’ll perform the ultrasound after this, satoru.” your doctor chimed. “(y/n), i want you to start taking a pre-natal. stop eating raw fish, deli meats, and eat thoroughly cooked meats for now.”

you blinked twice. that meant no sushi for you. your heart sank a little. satoru noticed the disappointment shift in your mood. he felt a little guilty.

"so that's why you had me cook your steak well-done..." satoru whispered to himself. you scoffed at his sudden realization from two weeks ago. (read ‘accidents’ here)

“do you or satoru have any pre-existing medical conditions in either families?”

“no. but he might be pre-diabetic by the time he’s 40.” you snorted.

satoru chuckled and reported back, “there’s nothing on my side of the family to note.”

“that’s great to hear. just be aware of gestational diabetes, (y/n). i know you love your chocolate ice cream so watch your intake.” your doctor typed some notes in your patient profile, “your due date is looking close to october 14th. any other questions?”

“can the baby come earlier?” satoru quickly asked.

your doctor smiled at the both of you, “i wouldn’t necessary call it early, but babies are considered full term at 37 weeks. it would be good for the baby to be born around or after that time.”

“uhm, do you think i’ll be able to give birth vaginally?” you asked next. your sister-in-law had to have c-sections, so that worried you. her recovery was a journey for her and honestly, it scared you. but you were willing to do whatever it takes to make sure baby gojo arrived safely.

“as long as there aren’t any complications, of course. we can plan on that. we'll just have to monitor how your pregnancy is going.” your doctor picked up on yours and satoru’s quiet and awkward social queues, "and yes, you can still have sex while you're pregnant.

"oh, thank god." satoru sighed in relief as you smacked him with the back of your hand. he was so embarrassing.

"please, just ignore him." you looked at your doctor, cheeks cherry red.

she laughed and asked the most important question of the day, “are you guys ready to meet your baby?”

you nodded your head and giggled, “yes. i think satoru’s more excited than i am. he won't shut up about it.”

“i’ve been waiting two weeks for this moment.” satoru said with a sheepish smile, his hand scratching the back of his fresh undercut. his blue eyes peeking through from his sunglasses.

“okay, let’s get started then.” your doctor announced while snapping on her sterile gloves. “we’ll be performing a transabdominal ultrasound today, nothing painful.”

she squeezed a handful of gel to apply to your belly. you jumped in your seat.

“are you okay?” satoru asked, concerned at your sudden movement.

you reassured him, “yeah, the gel is just cold.”

your doctor laughed in amusement and started to rub the wand around your abdomen. you heard a fast thumping noise.

“is that the heartbeat?” you wondered, looking at the black and white screen. satoru smiled from ear-to-ear as he cupped his cheek in his right hand, his left hand squeezing yours. hearing his baby’s heartbeat might take the cake for one of his favorite sounds in the world, next to your laugh.

your doctor reported back, “yup. a healthy 138 bpm. i’m gonna take some pictures now…”

you saw a tiny circle in the middle of the monitor as your doctor clicked away on her computer mouse.

“is that the baby?” satoru asked, squinting at the monitor.

“yes. you see the little image that looks like a bean?” she clicked again, “it’s about half an inch… that’s your baby.”

“it’s so cute. how tiny. a baby bean…” you gushed. you turned to look at satoru. he was itching his eyes.

“satoru gojo, are you crying?” you asked in disbelief.

he quickly defended himself, avoiding all eye contact with you. “no! something just got in my eye.”

he was such a liar. his infinity would never allow anything to touch his precious six eyes.

your doctor laughed at the sweet moment between the two of you. you watched the love of your life stare at the black and white screen in amazement. your heart felt like it was going to burst watching him. you wanted to hold him tightly and never let go.

12 weeks: surprise! we’re pregnant!

it was so hard for you and satoru to keep your pregnancy a secret for the past 6 weeks. the only two people who knew you were pregnant were shoko and megumi.

your doctor had advised you to wait until the end of your first trimester to announce your pregnancy because of the risk of miscarriage. once you made it past the first trimester, you thought about how you were going to tell everyone. of course, you and satoru wanted it to be a surprise. an imaginary lightbulb lit above your head.

“babe, i have an idea.” you said excitedly, grabbing satoru’s arm as he was looking through your office drawers for something sweet to snack on.

“hmmm. what is it, sweetheart?” he asked as he unwrapped a piece of chocolate. you always kept a stash of satoru's favorite chocolates in your desk for him because he loved to hide in your office and avoid his sensei duties.

“you know how we usually take a group picture with the faculty, students, and sister school every year? let's tell principal yaga to schedule it early this year.”

“oh, i like where this is going.” satoru laughed. he read your mind. you high-fived him. he gave you a quick peck on the cheek. couples’ telepathy was really a thing.

*********************************

“and why do we have to be here?” maki complained as she folded her arms. she wanted to train, not take a silly picture.

“come on, maki! it’s tradition to get a picture of all the students and faculty. it’s just that we’re taking the picture earlier than usual this year.” panda said as he patted her back.

“even okkotsu came back from his training to be in the picture. my sister flew in just to be in it too.” megumi said as he watched yuta interact with the students from kyoto. tsumiki was attached to your hip. megumi already knew the real reason why the picture was scheduled so early in the school year and why tsumiki was asked to be in the picture.

“alright! everyone looks great.” yuji cheered as he walked to his assigned spot for the group picture.

principal yaga gathered everyone, “please make your way to the field and get into your assigned spots. satoru will be pressing the button for the camera since he can teleport to his spot quickly.”

you nervously watched as all the students and jujutsu high faculty made their way to their spots, getting ready for the picture.

“okay everyone!” satoru shouted as he prepared himself to teleport next to you and megumi, “i’m pressing the timer!”

satoru appeared by your side as the 10 second timer ticked. satoru sneakily pressed record instead taking of a picture. “everyone say ‘(y/n)-sensei’s pregnant’!”

everyone stopped to look at you and satoru in confusion.

“what?”

“what did he say?”

“huh?!”

“(y/n)-sensei… is pregnant?!”

“wait what?”

“holy shit, (y/n)-sensei is pregnant!”

after a few seconds of questioning, everyone realized what had just happened. you had just announced your pregnancy.

in that moment, you were tackled by tsumiki, megumi, yuji, nobara, and yuta as they cheered around you in a group hug. ijichi, akari, principal yaga, nanami, ino, mei, utahime and shoko were all congratulating satoru. they took turns speaking with the both of you, giving you well wishes on a safe and healthy pregnancy.

“congrats, (y/n)-sensei.” maki said with a soft smile, embarrassed she complained about being here. she wouldn’t have wanted to miss this.

panda added, “yes, congratulations! we’re excited to see you and satoru become parents.”

“salmon, salmon!” toge congratulated you in his own words.

“thanks everyone. if you guys aren’t busy, we’re going to have a celebratory dinner tonight at splendid sushi. satoru’s treat.” you winked.

“hey! i heard that!” satoru shouted at you from across the field as he grinned. both you and satoru were thrilled to see everyone’s excitement on the news of baby gojo.

*********************************

“are you nervous to tell my brother you knocked up his little sister?” you teased satoru. you kissed his cheek as he brushed the loose strands of black hair behind your ear.

“nah, i’m sure he wants nieces and nephews for his kids. plus, it was an accident.” he joked as he drummed his fingers on the restaurant table. you and satoru people-watched through the restaurant window, waiting for touya and his wife. (a/n: yeah, touya is married with 2 kids now. his wife’s name is hana. a non-sorcerer. maybe i'll write a wedding fic.)

you smiled as you saw your brother walk into the restaurant, holding the door open for hana. touya’s black hair and golden-yellow eyes beamed when he saw you satoru.

“satoru! how have you been, bro?!” touya greeted his self-proclaimed brother, pulling him in for a bro hug.

“i can’t believe he hugged satoru first.” you looked at hana in disbelief as she giggled, hugging you instead.

“they really are bestfriends now.” hana realized as she sat across from you.

satoru sat back down in his seat next to you, touya sitting across from him. “glad you guys could have lunch with us. it’s been awhile.”

“we have a gift for you guys! a souvenir from our last trip.” you lied to your brother and sister-in-law. you pushed a card and white box towards them.

“open it. it’s special, made especially for you.” satoru urged, touya and hana taking the card to open first.

“what do you get a brother who already has everything?” touya read out loud. hana curiously reading along with him. satoru placed his hand on your thigh. the both of you were grinning from ear-to-ear watching the two open the box. they pulled out a beige baby onesie.

touya read the text on the onesie, “how about the title uncle and auntie…?”

after putting 2+2 together, touya hid his face with his hands, both him and hana were so happy for you and satoru. your eyes started to water watching them. a tearful laugh came out of you.

“congratulations, you two. my baby sis is having a baby...” touya said as he got up to embrace you.

you hugged him tighter, “thanks, touya…” you softly said. the warmth of your brother's love and support making you extremely emotional. these pregnancy hormones were out. of. control.

18 weeks: an important question

"aren't you curious to what the gender is?" shoko asked you and satoru. you asked shoko to join you two for lunch today because you had an important question to ask the amber-eyed doctor in regards to your unborn child.

you took a bite of your chicken katsu before answering, "of course we are. but we decided not to find out because we want it to be a surprise."

“what do you want it to be? a boy or girl?”

“it doesn’t matter. as long as baby gojo is healthy.” satoru stereotypically said as he stretched his arm to rest over your shoulder. he secretly wanted a girl.

you added, “we raised megumi and tsumiki. we already experienced the best of both worlds. so i’m not picky.”

“i guess i’m just being selfish because i want to know the gender.” shoko laughed as she took a sip of her mimosa.

“oh! shoko, we have a present for you.” you said as you put down your chopsticks. you turned to satoru and he grabbed another white box with a card attached do it, similar to the one you gave touya and hana.

“it better be the gender of your baby.” she laughed as she took the present from satoru.

“it’s something even better.” satoru said with his signature shit-eating grin.

shoko opened the card, reading it out loud, “i need an extra pair of hands to help me learn and grow… i know that yours will be the best because mommy and daddy told me so…?” she looked at the card, confused.

you asked her clearly while trying not to laugh, “shoko, will you be baby gojo’s godmother?”

shoko stared at both you and satoru after she realized what you had just asked of her. she started to chuckle as she got out of her seat to hug you. “of course, i will. hopefully your baby won’t grow up to be a little shit like satoru.” she said as she punched the white-haired sorcerer in the arm, satoru completely letting her bypass his infinity to do so.

“there’s another gift in there.” satoru added, pointing at the giant glass.

shoko picked up the pint glass and read the etching, “you drink too much. you smoke too much. and you cheated on your medical exam. we can’t think of anyone more suitable to be baby gojo’s godmother.”

shoko laughed, “okay, this might have been better than finding out the gender of your baby.”

26 weeks: baby gojo’s first (external) kick

megumi came home this weekend to spend time with you, satoru, and tsumiki. normally, he would be spending his free time exploring japan with nobara and yuji, but since you were pregnant and tsumiki was back for her semester break from her study abroad program, he wanted to spend his free time with his family.

you were in the kitchen with tsumiki making dinner while satoru and megumi sat around the living room with his demon dogs, shiro and kuro. catoru was lounging in their cat scratch post and your spirit birds were out on the patio enjoying the weather. you didn’t realize how zoo-like your home was until now... and that wasn't even including all of megumi's shikigami either.

while chopping vegetables, tsumiki updated you on her high school adventures abroad. ever since she started at e.f. academy, she has been non-stop on-the-go with extracurricular activities. she told you about her latest projects, how the weather was in california, about all the friends she made, and even the boy she had a small crush on. (read 'wherever you are' here)

on the couch, megumi spoke with satoru about his shikigami and how he’s been able to tame a majority of them now. this was the first time in awhile those two haven’t bickered in your presence, and it was a sight to behold.

you rested your hands on your belly as you leaned your back against the kitchen counter, listening to your sweet teenager talk about how cute her crush was. you reminisced about your time in high school, how you thought satoru was a complete asshole when you first met him, and how his good looks and horrible personality made up for it. if your 18 year old self could see you now, she wouldn’t believe the sight. (read 'love at first fight' here)

you felt a little tap against your hands. “huh?” you said out loud, realizing what you just felt on your hands.

“(y/n)? are you okay?” tsumiki asked as she put down the chopping knife. satoru and megumi turned around from the couch, all the attention was on you.

“i think baby gojo just kicked my hand.” you announced. only you were able to feel baby gojo kick internally for the past couple weeks, but now, you thought that satoru and the kids would be able to actually feel the kicks from the outside too.

“hurry, come over here!” you said frantically, hoping baby gojo would kick again. satoru dramatically teleported beside you as megumi hopped over the couch ledge to race over to the kitchen, kuro and shiro following him.

you took all three of their hands and placed it on your belly where you thought baby gojo was. the demon dogs sniffed around you, their tails wagging happily. you pursed your lips, waiting for another kick. you felt kuro and shiro licking your hands.

and there it was. another gentle kick from baby gojo.

“i felt it!” tsumiki cheered as she jumped around the kitchen. her bright smile lighting up the room.

satoru hugged you from behind. you both smiled while watching tsumiki and megumi. megumi looked at his hand, and then back at your stomach.

“did you feel it, megumi?” you asked him with a smile.

“yeah, i did.” he said softly. “that was pretty cool.”

“what about you, daddy?” you grinned as you asked satoru.

megumi gagged at satoru’s new title, “gross. i’m leaving.”

you and satoru watched as your moody teenager made his way back to the couch, tsumiki’s attention back on chopping vegetables. satoru’s arms were still wrapped around you, his face nuzzled in the crook of your neck. baby gojo kicked once more.

“i think baby gojo is saying ‘let go of us so mommy can finish cooking’.” you giggled as you turned around to face the white haired sorcerer. you caressed his cheek with your palm. he snuck two kisses on your neck.

“fine… but i expect some alone time later.” he winked at you before kissing the palm of your hand.

you laughed, “sorry, babe, the kids are home this weekend, plus you get me all to yourself next week when we go to mexico for our baby moon.”

30 weeks: a first time parents' class

"babe, get ready. i signed us up for a class."

"what kind of class? it better not be another ‘how to have sex while pregnant’ class." you rolled your eyes at the ridiculous class that satoru signed you up for at the beginning of your pregnancy. you sighed, your belly weighing you down on your very comfortable white couch that you would probably need satoru's help getting out of.

he grinned at you as he grabbed your purse and your shoes. "a first time parents class."

your doctor recommended that you and satoru waited until your third trimester to take a 'first time parent' class. the class would teach new parents about the different kinds of births, pain management strategies, what to do if and when your water breaks, how to time contractions, postpartum care, caring for the baby, and baby first aid.

“do we have to go?” you asked, “i’m tired.” feigning exhaustion as you put the back of your hand over your eyes and forehead.

“of course we have to go!” satoru exclaimed as he sat down next to you. he was always so excited whenever it came to anything related to baby gojo. he slipped on your white sneakers for you, swiftly tying your shoe laces bunny ear style as you sat up on your elbows. you caught yourself smiling at him. he was so doting. you could definitely get used to this.

satoru studied you. you weren't wearing any makeup today, but you had the radiant "pregnancy glow" that everyone talked about. you wore a beige dress under a white crop t-shirt that hugged your belly tightly. “you look beautiful, so no need to change or do your makeup.”

“you just don’t want to be late.” you laughed. this was the first time that satoru gojo was on time for anything.

*********************************

satoru teleported you both to the hospital in tokyo that you go to for your all your doctor appointments. apparently the hospital was hosting the class he signed up for. there were many pregnant women with their significant others, friends, mothers, and mother-in-laws sitting around the small auditorium.

as you entered the room, you heard gasps and whispers about satoru.

“wow! what a good looking guy!”

“he’s a total hottie!”

“that guy is gonna be a dilf for sure!”

“do you see the cutie with the white hair and blue eyes?!”

“where should we sit?” satoru asked as he held your hand. you looped your free arm around his bicep covetously, staking claim to your man as if your very pregnant belly didn't do so already.

“don’t pretend like you don’t hear all the women in this room talking about you.” you hissed at him as you sat down in a seat closer to the front of the auditorium. because this happened everywhere you went with satoru, normally it wouldn't bug you, but for some reason it did today.

“somebody’s a green eyed monster today.” he sang with a smug smile. it was his favorite analogy to use when you were jealous because your green eyes were so fitting. he sat down next to you, draping his left arm around your shoulder, his right elbow perched on the arm rest. after over a decade of being with you, he was unphased by comments from other women. he ate it all up in high school, but satoru gojo became a changed man once he met you.

“am not.” you said under your breath. you stayed quiet for a moment. “babe, i just think it’s funny how—”

satoru's left ear was saved as your 'i think it's funny how' rant was interrupted by the presenter, “good afternoon! and welcome to the first time parents class!”

even though you were jealous and didn’t like how all the other women in the auditorium were drooling over satoru, you couldn’t stay mad. throughout the years, satoru’s beautiful blue eyes have never strayed and he never made you feel unwanted, even when you argued or when you were being difficult and stubborn. he was never bothered by your jealously. you were the only person he chased after since the day he met you at jujutsu high.

throughout the class, satoru took notes on his phone and asked questions during the q&a. it was hard to stay mad at a man as dedicated and involved as satoru gojo. you decided to just ignore the women in the class, however, that didn’t mean that you wouldn’t cling to satoru when the class ends.

*********************************

“so, what’d you think about the class?” satoru asked as he placed your go-to order of ice cream in front of you. he sat across from you as you glared at his sweet, handsome, smug face.

“it was fine. we learned a lot of information, don’t you think?” you deferred as you scooped a spoonful of ice cream into your mouth.

“yeah, and i learned that you still get jealous til’ this day.” satoru poked fun at you. “remember the first time i took you shopping in shibuya? you were soooo jealous of all the girls talking about me and you weren’t even my girlfriend at the time.” he laughed at the memory. (read ‘love at first fight’ here)

you quipped back, “satoru, everyone knows that you’re the one who’s obsessed with me.”

“true,” he agreed while taking a bite of your ice cream, “but it’s nice to see that side of you every once in awhile. what’s my baby gonna do when she’s not my number one anymore?” he mocked in a playful tone, shooting a bright toothy smile at you.

your emerald green eyes pierced his sapphire blue eyes. “what do you mean by that?”

“baby gojo is gonna be my number one.” satoru said nonchalantly, licking caramel off your spoon.

you took your ice cream away from him. holding the cup closer to you instead of putting it in the middle of the table to share.

satoru chastised you, “that’s not nice, sweetheart.”

“you’re insufferable, babe.” you rolled your eyes at him. “first, you let women drool all over you in front of me, then you tell me that i’m not your number one anymore. what’s next? you don’t love me either?”

“there you go with the theatrics.” satoru sighed, folding his arms. he wouldn't expect anything less from his life partner.

“i learned from the best teacher, i think his name was satoru gojo.” you winked at him.

"it's a good thing i love you." satoru said as he leaned over the table to kiss you on the lips. he tasted just like caramel.

32 weeks: nesting

"this fucking crib is going to be the death of me." satoru muttered under his breath as he struggled putting together the 'smart' crib that he bought. as soon as satoru found out you were pregnant, he spent a whole month researching cribs to decide which one he was going to buy for baby gojo. he decided on the most expensive one, thinking that it would be the best. rich people logic. this crib was called a 'snoo'.

"you didn't have to get such a high tech crib, babe." you said as you sat on the bed folding warm, freshly washed baby clothes and baby bedding for the snoo. you admired how cute and small the onesies were. because you and satoru didn't know the gender of your baby, you bought a lot of neutral colored clothing like beiges, tans, browns, and whites.

"my baby is going to have the best everything." satoru boasted. of course, baby gojo was going to be spoiled. they had you and satoru gojo as their parents.

during the past couple of weeks, you and satoru had bought a handful of important things that new parents would need for a newborn baby such as a crib, stroller, car seat, changing table dresser, and a comfortable lounging chair for your bedroom to put next to baby gojo's crib for the late night feeds.

satoru insisted that everything would be 'nuna' branded. the employee at his favorite department store convinced him after they mentioned that nuna was the "lamborghini of baby strollers and car seats." the matching stroller and car seat system was well over $1,000, you couldn't argue with satoru about how much he was spending because it would be hypocritical of you and your spending habits. so you let him get what he wanted.

after hours of setting up the snoo, putting together the baby stroller, installing the car seat, and building the dresser, satoru sighed, "what a long day." he crawled under the covers to meet you in bed, the back of his hand covering his face in exhaustion.

“it’s a good thing you could just use blue to move the lounge chair from the front door to the bedroom. you probably would've broke your back.” you teased him, knowing satoru gojo doesn’t do manual labor.

“the one easy part about today.” he complained.

while satoru took on his fatherly projects, you were able to deep clean the apartment, put baby clothes and diapers into the newly built dresser, add the clean bedding to the snoo, and re-organize all the drawers in the apartment. you were in the nesting stage of your pregnancy.

you turned to face him, your pregnancy pillow creating a divide between you and the exhausted sorcerer. he flattened your pregnancy pillow with his arm as you took his hand to lace your fingers with.

“you could’ve hired someone to build the snoo and the dresser, satoru.” you said to him, knowing that he normally would’ve.

“yeah, i know, but this is for my baby. i want to make sure everything is perfect.”

your heart melted at the fact that satoru was giving it his all to be involved. deep down, he wanted to be a good father and you could see that. you were proud of him.

"congrats, daddy. you just spent the day nesting with me." you smiled. you knew satoru secretly adored his new title.

the white haired sorcerer laughed, “what the hell is nesting? are we birds?”

“nesting is when couples get their home ready for the baby, satoru.”

“oh yeah? spending hours organizing drawers is nesting? because there’s nothing baby gojo will hate more than the junk drawer we have in the kitchen.” satoru teased.

you kissed the back of your teeth in annoyance, “you have been saying for years that you’d clean out the junk drawer. i found crayons in there from when megumi was in elementary school. he's a high schooler now. it only took me getting knocked up for it to finally be clean.”

you turned your body away from satoru. he moved your pregnancy pillow so he could cling to you (and so that he could be the big spoon).

“i’m just kidding, babe.” he whispered in your ear, kissing the back of your shoulder blade with his soft lips.

“uh huh. go to sleep, satoru.” you replied back to him, attempting to shut your eyes.

“so feisty…” satoru mumbled, still peppering soft kisses along your shoulder blade.

37 weeks: full term

"well... i can give birth at any time now." you said as you read your 'what to expect' app.

satoru placed his free hand on your stomach as he joined you on the white fluffy couch in your living room. you moved satoru's hand to where baby gojo was, using his hand to press firmly into your stomach.

he quickly pulled his hand away from you, afraid that he hurt you and baby gojo, "doesn't that hurt your stomach when you press that hard?" he asked.

"babe, no. give me your hand back. you'll be able to feel baby gojo's feet." you said, reaching for his hand that he reluctantly gave back to you. he leaned over to see what the hard feeling in your stomach was.

"that's baby gojo's feet?" he asked, amazed.

"yeah, baby gojo is literally killing me right now though." you said as you shifted uncomfortably. baby gojo liked to sleep in this position, making you lay on your left side more often.

satoru frowned, he knew you were uncomfortable now more than ever. "i'm sorry, babe."

you squinted at him, "what are you apologizing for?"

"for getting you pregnant."

you couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, so you nuzzled your head on his chest. he pulled you closer to him, "don't apologize for that. apologize if i'm not able to get an epidural or something." you snickered as you looked up at him, "ready to read week 37?"

satoru nodded and kissed the top of your head as you laid against him.

"baby gojo is as big as a canary melon. estimating 19 inches, and 6 pounds. at 37 weeks, you're 9 months pregnant with the end in sight." you read out loud.

satoru took the phone from you to read his part, "at a glance, if baby gojo was born this week, they'd still be early term. baby gojo is practicing for their grand entrance by inhaling and exhaling amniotic fluid, blinking, and turning from side to side. baby gojo can grab onto things now. baby gojo is likely to be sucking their thumb a lot these days in preparation for feeding sessions."

"it says babies grow about a pound a week. the average fetus weighs about 6 pounds. and that boys are likely to be heavier than girls." you read, "since it's a little crowded in your uterus now, baby gojo may not be kicking as much. instead, they're probably stretching, rolling and wiggling." you laughed because baby gojo was still kicking strong, sometimes it was painful, stopping you in your tracks in the middle of the day.

satoru blue-eyes widened as he read the next paragraph, "here's an interesting fact. at birth, baby gojo's head, which is still growing, will be about the same circumference as their chest."

"i pray to god that baby gojo doesn't have your big head or my vagina is toast." you joked.

satoru glared at you, shaking his head while chuckling. he went back to read through some of the pregnancy symptoms. he noticed that you experienced a majority of the symptoms on the list: the pelvic pain, leg cramps, pregnancy brain, and insomnia.

because you were of small stature, you started experiencing more pressure on your pelvis as the weeks went by. sometimes satoru would hold up your belly for you with his infinity whenever you were close by, and you were thankful for such a helpful cursed technique.

before bed, satoru would feed you bananas and massage your legs to help with the leg cramps. with your breasts and stomach as big as they've ever been, you finally got your stretch marks. for the majority of your pregnancy you were stretch mark-free, they didn't appear until the third trimester. satoru liked to call them your 'tiger stripes' when he would help you apply stretch mark creams and oils to your body. him helping you apply those creams and oils was a form of intimacy you didn't know you needed during this time. satoru always knew how to make you feel confident again.

your pregnancy brain caused you to be a little forgetful, so the acrylic whiteboard in the kitchen was your bestfriend. you left little reminders on the board for yourself, satoru, and megumi throughout your pregnancy.

lastly, it was hard for you to sleep now that you were in the home stretch of your pregnancy. every sleeping position was uncomfortable, and you had to wake up multiple times a night to use the bathroom. you never got a consistent amount of sleep.

even though being pregnant was uncomfortable, you experienced some of the best memories with satoru this year: your trip to mexico gifted from touya, your surprise pregnancy announcement, asking shoko to be baby gojo’s godmother, and all the special intimate moments with satoru. your unborn baby was already so loved by everyone. you couldn't have asked for a better accidental pregnancy.

you and satoru laid on the couch together all afternoon, enjoying each other's presence in this chaotic life for jujutsu sorcerers. catoru purred and slept next to you two on the chaise, your spirit birds perched on their stands as they watched over the apartment. you dozed in and out of sleep throughout the day as sleep was rare for you lately.

you felt satoru's warm hand on your belly again, you held his hand and lifted your head, emerald greens looking towards him.

"babe, i have a serious question." you said softly.

raising your hand to kiss your knuckles, he asked you curiously, "and what's your serious question?"

"are you ready to be a dilf?" you laughed.

"are you ready to be a milf?" he asked you back, chuckling, "cause you are definitely a milf, babe."

you smiled at satoru as he continued to plant soft kisses on your hand, "yeah, i'm ready to evict baby gojo."

little did you and satoru know, baby gojo would break your water next week to make their dramatic entrance into the world. yours and satoru's lives would be forever altered.

satoru and oc gojo girlfriend go on a baby moon from week 27, read the bonus chapter, ‘baby moon’ here.

or are you ready to meet baby gojo? read the next chapter, ‘hello baby’ here.

© 2023 ASDFGHJKLMALS — ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK.

DIVIDERS PROVIDED BY @/ANLIAN-AISHANG

[raevenlyreads]

What happens when you ask for a reading?

People have been asking: What is it like to get a reading from you, Raev? A lot of you are just as new to being read for as I am to having a shop front, so I wanted to pull back the curtain a little bit and let yall know what the process of requesting a reading is like. Many thanks to my lovely volunteers for allowing me to share snippets of our conversations.

Preliminary Chats

When a querent reaches out for a reading, we start with a little Q&A, as I help guide my querents to the right spread for them. Doesn’t have to be in real time, though the process does tend to go quicker when we’re both available to chat at the same time. Often, these exchanges involve me helping the querent narrow down what it is they want to know, since they usually come to me with a general idea but not much in the way of specifics. For example:

Querent: My question would be "What is the best way for me to love them", what do you recommend? Me: I think it depends on what kind of love you're trying to give. I think this might be an interesting one for me to read the Revealing Prism for, as it will show 1) something about them 2) something about you 3) something you don't know and 4) a truth you can act on Querent: Mm, love in a general sense I guess? Like, what is the best way for me to show this person I hold them in high regard / care for them etc. not particularly romantic or familial just.. love? Hard to articulate And yeah, okay! Revealing Prism it is then Me: Sounds good! What deck would you like? Querent: The shadowscapes one? Me: shadowscapes was a good choice for this one, it's a very patient and gentle deck. Very loving and nurturing. It will really understand the vibe you're going for, I think. Querent: That's what I'm hoping for yeah <3

Into the Queue

Once we have the question narrowed down, and the spread and deck decided upon, the appropriate commission is purchased and the querent is added to my queue. Usually the turn around is within a few days, no more than a week. I like to try to do my reading as close to the prelim chats as possible, so that the connection is still fresh in my mind.

The Reading Itself

I will spend some time with the chosen deck, asking it the question on behalf of the querent (“[Name] is seeking actionable advice on how to show them they love them. “They” will be the external card, [Name] will be the internal card, help me show [Name] what is Hidden and reveal to us they can act on.”). While I ask, I shuffle. With some decks, this involves rifling the deck like common playing cards. With others (like the oversized Nameless One), I will spread the whole thing out on the table and just shuffle it all around flat. Circle spreads get arranged in a circle (go figure :P), and Above and Below gets shuffled then turned face up as I search for the signifier card. Oftentimes, I’ll know it's time to stop shuffling and begin reading when a card jumps out of my hand, or the deck splits itself neatly in two in my grip, or the cards start sticking to themselves. I lay out the reading, sit with them for a bit to absorb the interpretation, then start snapping pictures.

The Final Product

Once I’m done with the reading it's time for the write up. Each card is interpreted individually, and in the case of multi-card spreads, a synthesis of what they all say together is also written up. For single cards, I tend to drop the image and the interpretation right into our chat. For longer reads, I send a link to your own personalized doc with all the pictures and write ups. You can see samples of those in my kofi Gallery or on my tumblr under the tag #raevs sample reads.

Follow Up

This is my favorite part. I always love to hear what my querents think of their readings, how it impacts the way they think about things, how it opens up their perceptions, the clarity my readings bring. It especially delights me when they come back after some time later, telling me about the ways they saw the factors described in my readings coming to life before their eyes. I love hearing from my querents and would love to hear from you, too! Come talk tarot with me and let's see what the cards hold for you.

Ready to commission a reading of your very own? Check out my ko-fi page!

[chestersbraincell]

Finally doing an Introduction post 👀

It’s quite long, so I’ll put it as a “Read more”

I don’t necessarily identify with any particular name, but I have adopted a few Proper Noun - ish names which are in the list below. I don’t particularly attach myself to them as I don’t think I have a true name that exists, but the below are some things which I’ve collected that somewhat tangentially relate to myself or that I just, well, like! Aside from those, I much prefer to be referred to by, well, descriptors, I guess? It’s like you would go- oh, look at that ________ over there!/That _________ is……… kinda like that!

Well anyway, listed in somewhat of an order of preference(THEY’RE NOT PRONOUNS BTW):

•[REDACTED]

•Chester/Jester

•creature or any other variants of such descriptor

•Void/Voidling/shadow

•Shifting Void

•Nix/Asher

•Weeping Willow

(More may be added in the future)

I go by any pronouns, including any neos you think might suit my vibe! (that is, only with neo’s that are respectful, ie no slurs/otherwise offensive terms). I much prefer gender-neutral terms along with they/them, but I don’t get dysphoric with masc-leaning stuff. The only slightly touchy terms/pronouns for me are the feminine ones, I mean, they’re fine to use I would just rather they were used on rare occasions/as sayings(stuff like girl).

With that out of the way, it’s pretty important to say what I post, right? I partake in MANY fandoms, so never expect a singular theme. That being said, you can largely expect many reblogs/posts about:

•Undertale/Deltarune(rarely utmv stuff, I’m just not really a fan)

•Hermitcraft/Life series(Mainly Grian, Mumbo, GoodtimeswithScar, Smallishbeans and Geminitay), as well as sometimes generally just Minecraft related things

•Our Wonderland(VERY underrated psychological horror visual novel that you should check out NOW!!! 🫵🫵)

•My experiences as Alterhuman/Otherkin(more on this later)

That’s the main bulk of my stuff, however, I also pretty frequently post and reblog about:

•Mouthwashing

•Slay the Princess

•Corru.observer

•Detective Beebo

•Severence

•Dress to Impress(I often like to post my own outfits that I make!!)

•my experiences with Dermatillomania/Skin Picking Disorder

•generally rants/rambles/storytimes/whatever comes into my mind really. I use this blog a lot like a public diary, so also expect a fair share of venting/trauma dumping. I try my best to trigger warning these but yeah.

Now!! That’s!!! A lot of stuff wouldn’t you say? How does one navigate said stuff if you’re browsing my blog? Well!! The featured tags have been edited to feature my most commonly posted about things, and they’re a great way to filter through my blog. I reblog ALOT(especially using the queue, which I choose to not tag), so if you’re interested solely in my original posts I have just the tag for you: Asher’s Ramblings . With one small problem unfortunately. Annoying part being you have to manually type asher’s ramblings into my blog’s search bar WITH a space at the end for most posts to show(I think it’s because at a point I just started to copy and paste the tag instead of manually typing it). Otherwise the featured tags should work fine.

I have additionally created side blogs to reblog my writing ( @jestersrambles ) , dress to impress outfits ( @sillyjesterplaysroblox ) and otherkin posts/reblogs ( @shiftingvoid ) if you’re here from seeing posts related to those and don’t want your dash cluttered with the other stuff I reblog/post about. Keep in mind these sideblogs are updated irregularly/later than this blog so they are a lesser option to the main blog. Alas the choice is up to you. I will not be making fandom-specific blogs as I mostly reblog about those anyway and the purpose of the sideblogs was to allow people to more easily follow for content created BY me. So yea

Sometimes when you interact with someone, you have an image of them in your head. For a lot of people, that is influenced by their profile picture. And if you wish to see me as a Garfield dressed up in yellow and red clown attire that is completely fine! But!!! If you were curious as to what my internet sona looked like, then the closest I think I could get would be my Roblox avatar:

But alas, that is, as well as my current mortal human body, a mere suit, a shell, that contains my true self. Yupp here is where you get an exact description of my Alterhuman/Otherkin identity yippie!!!

The main “kin” identities I identify with are “Voidkin” and “Shapeshifterkin”. I am like the physical/metaphysical embodiment of, well, space, I guess? That is my “home”, anyway. The void is my home. Where I come from. But sometimes I’m also part of it. Not to get too spiritual with it but I do believe in reincarnation in my own way, and I believe that being part of the “void”, or just general “energy” floating around there is the in-between in which my soul resides in between lifetimes.

I think I’ve lived many a lifetimes which have shaped the main forms I take when I’m more, well, shaped. Most of the time the shape I take is mostly humanoid, with various animal/otherwise features at different times, such is the way of being a shapeshifter. I’m vanta-black in colour, except for the two glowing circles that are my eyes. They’re not always visible/open, but a lot of the time are. Also occasionally my teeth/fangs will highlight in a similar way. Oftentimes as of recent I’ve been covered in fur/my silhouette is “fuzzy” on the edges, but there are times when I feel more cool, smooth. The best way I could describe it is the texture of phone/computer screen. That and I’m semi-corporeal. So. Not entirely tangible. I take a liking to forests and dark spooky hallways/general areas, I think at some points I might’ve been something similar to a cryptid. Generally just like to become one with the darkness I occupy, too. Malleable is my shape is all I want to say.

Rarely, but it does happen, I experience more animalistic shifts(in the shapeshifter way, btw, since I know “shifts” is something used by otherkin identities in a different context). The forms I take, then, are most often either feline or canidae in nature. I’ve considered moth and squirrel before but I’m not sure whether I just share some traits/behaviours or whether I have had moments where I was completely shaped like that.

Well, I guess coming to an end, it would be worth to do a somewhat “DNI” list or whatever people do in that vein, if we’re speaking of interaction. A good rule of thumb would be that, if you don’t fw the things I am or the things I enjoy, probably move along. You’ll probably get a block from me if you’re Homophobic, Transphobic, Racist, Nazi, just generally if you’re a shitty human being and if I don’t block you because I don’t know of these views you hold, I would appreciate if you stay away from me thanks. I don’t enjoy partaking in discourse most of the time, especially if I’m not in a place to speak on the matter(ie not affected by it personally).

Though, I guess since this is tumblr, I guess I should specify my attitude towards shipping. I personally don’t like the terms pro/anti because they’re very reductive and people define them in different ways anyway. I’d say I have like 3 tiers of attitude towards ships:

Tier 1(A-okay with it, no problems here)-basically any ships considered completely unproblematic and healthy. I guess the only one some may disagree with being healthy that I put in this category is (STRICTLY) romantic minor x minor pairings. Because don’t act like minors don’t get into relationships/have crushes. If you make it weird/sexual then that’s on you and you’re weird.

Tier 2-ships where the relationship between the two characters may be seen as toxic or unhealthy. This includes stuff like Yanderes, bully x victim, codependency, non-age related power imbalances, stuff like that. With these, I do ship them, but in the way that I like to see these dynamics explored and written about/depicted. If you romanticise/endorse these then I am not okay with you and if I find out you do this I will likely block you at my own discretion. I just like to see them purely for the angst+the representation.

Tier 3- what you’re likely thinking of. Incest, anything involving minors x adult, SA victim x abuser, sexualisation of minor x minor pairings(yes, even if you age them up). I don’t want to see it. I will likely view you with disgust if I see you endorsing/posting it. I want to clarify I am against witch-hunting and harassing individuals who do this, and that I know some do this as a trauma response. I am not in a place to tell someone how to process their trauma. But I don’t want to see it.

Oh yeah, also, I’m 18, so I guess I should set out some boundaries there. Of course, I have no way of verifying your age and quite frankly I’m not responsible for your unrestricted internet access, so everything is up to your discretion. However. If I may lay down some personal preferences I would say my page is okay for anyone aged 13 and up; just make sure to have the tag “nsfw” blocked since I tag some of my more suggestive posts/jokes that way. As for more personal interaction like DMs or being something akin to “friends”(I don’t particularly like getting close to anyone let alone calling them a friend because of my trust issues, calling someone a friend makes it official and that scares me) I would personally prefer if you were at-least 16, 15 if we’re really pushing it but then again it really depends on how emotionally mature you are on whether we would be able to find common ground.

[blogswithapurpose]

So what's this blog?

It's an aggregator (I think I used that word right) of blogs that states a generalization of what type they are. I try to find a pinned or intro post to reblog. NOT IN A DEROGATORY WAY. Because the main purpose of this blog is reblogs, PLEASE call me out if I reblog: TERFs, SWERFs, bigots in general, anti-sjws, zionists, ai supporters, etc. I promise I won't be mad. (Or if I double reblog someone, or if I reblog you and you want me to delete it) I intend to make a spreadsheet of blogs I have reblogged or will not reblog, but I haven’t yet.

If I deleted a post I made about you, it isn’t malicious it’s my bad for missing something in your bio/post

Evil twin: @sick-and-twisted-posts

Asks and Submissions are currently: Open and encouraged!

Faq:

What are your tags?

#blogswithapurpose - in character tag

#not a blog with a purpose - out of character

#[x] blog - this blog does [x]

#not a bot / #run by a real person - if I feel the need to clarify the blog isn’t run by a bot

#mdni- in the event a blog’s content is mainly suggestive or mdni (hasn’t happened yet to my knowledge)

How often do you post?

To avoid clogging up people's homepages (and because I ran out of queue posts once), the maximum I will post will be 3 post per day. Exceptions for answering asks and out of character posts.

Can I tag you on a post?

Go for it champ!

Can I submit a blog?

Absolutely!

Can I submit my own blog?

Sure! Only exception: i will not reblog mainly nsfw blogs. If I accidentally do please let me know and the post will be taken down.

I didn’t see 3/any posts today! Is this blog dead?

Not dead if there’s under 3 posts in a day! Irl mod only has so much time to dedicate to being on PC, and mainly queues up posts there. (Part of the reason submissions are allowed/encouraged but please don’t feel pressured.)

Do you have a better definition of ‘blogs with a purpose?’

It does one thing? idk

What’s your main?

Used to have it on here, but for the mystery of it I took it off

Found your main!

Conga rats! You get a cookie but please don’t post it.

I would submit a blog but I don’t want to overwhelm you

If submissions are open, I won’t be overwhelmed. If they’re closed, feel free to come back later! I promise I’ll never get mad. GIMME.

Can I see the spreadsheet?

No, sorry. I use it to also note which blogs I will not be reblogging and why, and publicizing the list would defeat that point.

You sound really busy, are you sure you should be running a gimmick blog?

Blog isn’t my main priority so it’s all good. As long as you guys understand there might not always be three per day.

What side will you be on during the skeleton war?

What side does it look like

[kellykidd]

Baby Severide - Chapter 3: Naming Baby Severide

*Gif belongs to its rightful owner, it is not mine*

Pairing: Kelly Severide x reader

Summary: Baby Severide is finally here and you and Kelly are tasked with naming her.

Words: 874

Warnings: Doctors, hospitals, angry moms

Read on Ao3 here

Next Chapter: Chapter 4

Notes: Chapter 3’s posting is kinda a surprise but I like this chapter tbh. This is likely the last chapter I’ll post before vacation, but I may queue chapter 4 sometime next weekend! As always, a Reblog on any chapter of the fic means you will be tagged in any new chapters! Enjoy

Tags: @district447 @keabbs @storiesofsvu @marvelcharactersxreader @carnationworld @witchywinchester99 @treehouse-mouse @skullcupcakes @whatismypurpos

——

“She’s almost here,” Dr Calhoun announced, “just a few more minutes and you’ll meet your little girl.”

“See baby? You’re doing amazing,” Kelly beamed, kissing you on the cheek.

“I didn’t think I’d be this nervous to be on the table,” you chuckled.

“And she’s out,” Dr Calhoun announced, rushing the baby to the warmer behind her.

“Why isn’t she crying? Kelly, why isn’t she crying?” You asked, a worried tone to your voice.

“Dr Calhoun? Is everything okay?” Kelly gruffly called over.

“Just clearing the mouth and nose and taking some measurements. Nothing to worry about,” she replied, “the nurses will take her final measurements and bring her over while I close your abdomen.”

You heard a loud wail come from across the room. You were both okay. 

“We’re bring her over now, Mrs Severide,” a nurse told you as she brought over your baby and set her on your chest.

“Baby, she’s beautiful,” you started to tear up.

“She gets it from her mama,” he replied, brushing back your hair and kissing your forehead.

As Dr Calhoun finished stitching you up, the team got you ready to head into post op.

The trip to your recovery room was long, but your new baby made it feel short.

Once you and Kelly were settled in your recovery room, a nurse knocked on your door.

“Mrs Severide?” the nurse asked, “two firefighters are here to see you.”

“Send them in please,” you replied.

A few moments later, Casey and Boden walked through your door.

“How’d it go?” Casey asked you.

“I’m okay. Baby is perfect” you replied, a smile stuck to your face.

“Glad to hear,” Boden smiled, “the rest of 51 will be by after shift.”

“We just figured the two of us would come by for now, keep the knuckleheads at the firehouse,” Casey laughed.

“Knock knock,” Dr Calhoun said, pushing the door back, “is now a good time?”

“We’ll leave you guys be. I’ll bring Sylvie by tomorrow,” Casey smiled.

“Thanks Matt,” Kelly replied.

“Thank you guys for coming. It’s good to know she already has 51 looking out for her,” you smiled, wiping the tears off your face.

Casey and Boden left the room, as Doctor Calhoun made her way over to your bedside.

“The surgery went well. We’ll keep you here for a few days, then you both should be good to go home,” she smiled.

“That’s great news,” Kelly smiled.

“The best thing now is establishing some skin-to-skin with both of you. I’ll leave you guys to it, but a nurse will be outside if you need anything.”

Kelly helped you unbutton the top clasps on your gown, exposing the top of your chest. Feeling your brand new baby breathe on your chest was a surreal feeling, something you’d never thought you’d get.

Doctor Calhoun left your room. Kelly leaned over your bed and kissed you.

Looking over at you with your brand new baby, Kelly said, “I guess we should name her now, huh?”

“I’ve got a few ideas,” you chuckled.

“Which are?” He smiled.

“Well, for starters, I would like it to mean and honour something. I know we’ve talked about it before, but I think her middle name should be Shay. Leslie is a big reason we’re together and if we weren’t together, this little girl wouldn’t be here.”

“Baby,” Kelly’s eyes started to fill with tears, “I love you- I don’t even know what to say.”

“So that’s a yes to the middle name?”

“Of course it’s a yes.”

“Ok so first name ideas?”

“Alexis.”

“Alexis?”

“Your sister would’ve hopped on a plane as soon as we found out you were pregnant if it weren’t for losing her at 28. If she can’t be here, we should find a way to honour her memory. Alexis would’ve loved meeting her niece.”

“Alexis Shay Severide?”

“So it’s settled?”

“It’s settled. Ready to hold your daughter?”

“Never been so ready.”

“Take your shirt off then, mister.”

“Damn, I missed you saying that,” he laughed.

Picking up Alexis and handing her over to her father, your husband. It still didn’t feel real.

“She really is so beautiful,” he smiled.

There was a knock on the door and a blonde woman with glasses poked her head around the corner. 

“We should call your mom,” Kelly reminded, “she’d want to come meet Alexis.”

“Can you FaceTime her?” 

“Of course, babe. Do you want her back?”

“Well I mean, if you’re offering,” you chuckled. 

You took Alexis back from Kelly and he grabbed his phone to call your mom.

“Hey mom, I’ve got someone who I think you’ll want to meet,” you laughed, Kelly tipping the phone down to see Alexis.

“Honey! You didn’t tell me she was arriving early! What’s her name? When was she born?” Your mom gushed. 

“That’s actually why we’re calling. We figured you’d want to come meet her in person. She was born late this morning, then we picked her name a few minutes ago. Meet your granddaughter, Alexis Shay Severide.”

“Alexis? Like your sister?” She sighed, “why would you do that?”

“We thought it would be a good way to honour the life of my sister. Is there something wrong?” You felt yourself become stressed.

[from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras]

It’s the deep breath before the plunge, and by that I mean it’s a few hours before I leave for two-ish weeks out of the country. Unless I’m chronically unable to adjust to the massive time difference and am up all night every night, I might not check in here much while I’m gone. I don’t flatter myself to think that matters much to most of you, but I’m too lazy to write the same DM to the 4 or 5 people who might legit want to know!

I’ll queue a few posts for that time — some random thoughts, some of my favorite fan art, etc. But if you tag me, send me a message, or post something that I would normally react to between now and Sept 4, just know that it might have to wait until after that date. And feel free to send me a reminder later on if it seems like I missed something!

[e-pluribus-unumn]

Intro Post - Rover / Weatherstrip

⭐️ This is my CH side blog. I reblog stuff or post art / writing on occasion. Call me whatever, but people call me Rover, Weatherstrip, WHO, Polar or Tori, etc. Chose whatever idc. Ask to be mutuals, but just following me on my main and asking is fine. I can’t follow you back on this blog yk Main is @polarized-here I'm 17, Autistic, Pansexual, and Genderfluid. I use all prns (He/She/They/it/xir) etc etc. if I make a mistake or use ur prns wrong just lmk and I’ll fix it Thxs 👍

⭐️ This is a countryhumans/country-personification sideblog I've made after getting sucked back into this fandom 😔😔😔 I have a really bad CH USA hyperfixation & one on Astronautical Engineering too so 💀. I've been in the trenches of this fandom in the early days of 2018-2020. Just block me if you don’t like this. I promise nothing bad will happen for you using the resources given to you <3

⭐️ I may talk about my distaste of this fandom and its choices, but that doesn’t mean I want to hear you saying shit about particular people <3 Thxs <3

Tags and stuffs are under the cut <3

Tags I use: Just a note, I'm not organized at all, and may forget to tag something because I posted it to the wrong blog, sorry, it will happen again </3 which, I should mention. Even if my user has changed I’m still using the og tagging system because I’m lazy :3 </3 maybe one day I’ll edit it, but yeah. 👍

#chgc's art - my art tag

#chgc posting: going insane a day later - Tag for when I reblog my art a day later, just so it doesn't get buried like, from all the reblogs

#chgc speaks - speaking tag,

#chgc's rambles - also paired with my speaking / nonsense tag, but I plan to use it to talk about HCs I might have

#Not ch - gen tag for noncountryhumans / country personification dings,,,,

#silly stuff :3 - cute or enjoyable things I like, usually paired with "not ch"

#Serious stuff - gen tag for more serious things. Can be things that aren't "sad or triggering" just information that's important / serious.

#sillies between mooties :3 - tag for general interactions between me and my mutuals. usually paired w/ "silly stuffs :3"

#chgc's pinned posts - as the name suggests, stuff for when it is/used to be pinned for whatever.

#chgc’s queued up - for the rare time I feel the need to queue shit up. I usually don't do it.

#USA coded - for stupid (usually non ch / country personification things) videos / other posts that make me think of the blorbo. All usually are just jokes or are for funsies.

⭐️ If you’re reading this, you’re cool ig. Here’s the link to the playlist I made for Countryhumans America. 🙏

⭐️ Okay. That’s all. Idk. Rue the day I’m ever brief on something, Thxs. Bye.

⭐️ Oh Yeagh and forgot to say but my sona is a bee

Just a sillay guy. A little older sketch but ehh mostly the same now

Edit: made this shit sm shorter im proud of me. Yaya.

[biblioflyer]

To boldly go backwards?

Unpacking the attitudes behind people burned by Burnham. No, not those people. The other people. The ones who authentically seem to care about something other than protecting their image of Columbus as a cool dude.

This will be a series. If you’re reading this on the day it escaped my queue, the rest are queued for a 1 a day. If not, all will have the ‘Star Trek ethics’ tag in common. If I’m really on the ball, I’ll come back later and edit in links to the other chapters here.

I can see it now. Enterprise had its 1701-D cameos, Star Trek Picard had its Enterprise-G moment, and now Discovery’s finale will likely be controversial on the basis of Burnham placing the Progenitor’s technology out of reach of pretty much everyone. There will be many different ways of contemplating this, but I think you can sum it up as:

Did Discovery “give in” to techno-pessimism and in doing so undermine a core theme of Star Trek?

I don’t personally think so, but you might and I think I know why. Burnham is kind of, sort of applying a reverse Prime Directive on the Federation. She comes away believing that the Progenitor tech should not be entrusted to one person or even one civilization, and that ultimately it's unnecessary. So she “throws it away.” 

By throw it away, I mean she has it yeeted into a Black Hole where theoretically more advanced civilizations than the Federation can access it if and when it comes to it, but by that point it will likely be more of an anthropological curiosity to them rather than a new technological singularity.

Thus, the series finale of Discovery is one in which some observers might feel that a core premise of Star Trek, that of techno-optimism, is betrayed. While the grousing I think is likely to be hyperbolic, not all of it is necessarily a mask for something more nasty, feral, and likely to get a person kicked off any reasonably well moderated platform if expressed in the open.

What you think the core values of Star Trek are may actually be just that: a different understanding of what the core values are, and thus a different understanding of when they have or have not been undermined. I have my own take on those values.

For instance I despise Section 31 as a concept and storytelling device, believe it has directly attacked one of the most important core conceits of the setting: its fundamental optimism, and the damage this embrace of cynicism has done is continuing to ripple through Trek into the present day.

Yet at the same time, I also understand Trek as a set of modern fables, that the Federation is not a real place, and that it has a narrative function. That function being to model becoming aware of and confronting that which we should find repugnant and unacceptable in our own society if we were not desensitized to it.

Thus Burnham’s choice is one that can be read a few different ways, and that’s without getting into whether it was satisfying as a climax. While it is often derisively referred to as “NuTrek”, a label that both describes a worldview and a storytelling style anathema to those who prefer the more professional affectations, high regard for Classical Education, and “competency porn” of TOS & TNG or the more “neo-realist” shades of gray of DS9; Discovery is in many ways a fusion of the Treks of yesteryear. 

Sometimes it can be a lot closer to The Original Series in worldview than one might imagine in its willingness to indulge moral gray zones: “the Vulcan Hello” being a prime example. Other times it affirms the TNG obsession with personal and civilizational virtues as a thing one actively commits to upholding even when there are tremendous, even transformative benefits to be reaped by conceding. The refusal of the Progenitor tech being one of those examples.

This is something I’m going to unpack in subsequent posts in an attempt to try to sidestep some of the nastier fissures in the fandom and uncover what I think may be a genuine difference in the worldviews and orientations of some fans rather than, at best a distaste for the story structures and affectations of Discovery, and at its worst naked hostility to a crew that isn’t predominantly Anglo-European, heterosexual, and male. 

Next: What is the Kirkian ideal?

[preservationofnormalcy]

OOC: hey folks! Just wanted to give an ooc message. It’s a little late for new year’s, but still.

Thank you for following this little project. I’ve been consistently blown away by the following I have here. Thank you for supporting me both with likes, reblogs, and fun tags, but with merch as well. It means so much to me. I have like 300 asks in my inbox and so many of them made me laugh when I got them, or made my mind go crazy with ideas. I’ve developed a lot of this setting in large part due to submissions making me think about it.

I’m on the last day of a week long PTO I booked. I got a lot of stuff done behind the scenes, a couple projects I’m keeping secret for now but I hope you’ll see before too long. I also adjusted (hopefully for the final time) the button designs (including all the poster styles that weren’t available before), and did some writing. I wish I’d been able to sit down and just queue dozens of asks but alas - life and time don’t stop when you’re on vacation. Thank you all for your patience, and I hope someday I can do this full time (along with some other OPN-related things) so I can have a faster turnaround on that stuff. Going forward I might be a bit more choosy simply due to the amount.

I have a lot of ideas for things I want to do with this project and I hope I get to do even half of them. We’ve hinted at one of them already. I’m really excited for the future of this, and I hope you will be too.

As a final note, soon I’ll be adjusting the prices of the stuff in the shop. The stickers and buttons may increase in price by about 50 cents a piece, but sticker shipping cost will decrease. That may be in the next few days. Check out the ko-fi for prints of my posters, stickers, or buttons, or to just send good vibes.

Thank you all for your support and love. Reading tags is my favorite thing in the world currently. Over the rest of today, please feel free to send me any ooc asks you like (or reply to this post) about the setting or requesting something you’d like to see - more about a certain topic, or the interview for a certain poster, whatever. I’ll try and get to them sooner rather than later.

Finally - thank you so much to my co-writer for helping and being a sounding board. I appreciate you.

[leopardom]

✨ sappy post incoming ✨

(and a little trigger warrning for the vague mention of suicide)

i’m not gonna do any gig reports for now because last week still feels like a fever dream and i can’t really put my thoughts in an order that makes sense. but i just wanted to stop by to say how much i love the vibes and creativity of this fandom and how happy everyone was when it came to meeting and trading/giving out their creations while queueing for the gigs or even when they were over

in Munich, Milan and Padova i got to meet so many people from here. with some of them i chatted more and with some others less. but in any case it absolutely warmed my heart to finally see all those people i see on tumblr but like, in real life! i got to trade my stickers for bracelets/stickers/art/fan stuff, got to see everyone have a good laugh because of my stuff and also got to complement people for their crafts. and i'm telling you i really meant every single word because as i already mentioned, i love the creativity of this fandom 💕

last weekend i began my trip with pretty much nothing on me and now i'm back home with a bag full of bracelets, a folder full of art and a heart so full i wanna cry. i mean look at that:

1) idek where to begin with the tags of the artists, i’m still confusion but i’ll try to come back to this post again later with a clearer mind

2) “big juicy” bracelet you will always be famous @greensolsikke <3

this last week was a tiring experience with many ups and downs but at the same time it was probably the best week of my life so far

i'm getting especially emotional about it all because this whole frenzy concided with my birthday (on the 29th of March). this may sound cringe or what, but on the actual day of my birthday and when everything was over, i was sitting alone on my hotel bed in Milan and was thinking how this last year of my life started in the worst way possible and how it was only escallating towards the worst every single day. during my 26 i reached a new level of low, a bottom lower than the one i had reached when i was 20-21 (and that was a bad bad time). and yes, there were a few times when i was close to ending it all because it was too much. my 26 was pretty much like hell

but now i'm glad i didn't give up and pushed through all the struggles. because if i hadn't, i wouldn't be able to experience last week. i wouldn't be able to see some of my dearest friends again, to meet all the amazing people from here and from twitter, to see one of my favourite bands perform for three nights in-a-row and to listen to all my fave songs of theirs live and even cry my eyes out to some of them (Barve Oceana in Munich, Padam in Milan and Metulji in Padova really were an Experience). can safely say that my 26 ended with a bang and it was a very good one 😌

i'm feeling sad that this is over but at the same time i'm so warm inside and so happy that it happened. and i would do it all over again, especially if it meant meeting you all again or meeting even more of you from in here. i have never felt so welcome by people who technically only knew me as a tumblr user and i never thought this would happen, considering how awkward i am when it comes to interacting with people online and in real life

anyway i think i've talked too much and i'm slowly loosing my train of thought because the thoughts and emotions are so many right now. i just wanna thank each and every single one of you for making the past week so special and one of the best weeks of my life. i'm beyond gratefull 💖

sincerely, the curly head with the meme stickers 🫶

[romanthenorsegod]

🏛️In the Beginning🏛️

🏹Name: Roman/Frey (hence the norse god part of the user)

🏹Pronouns: He/ze/they

🏹Age: Minor‼️

🏹Gender Identity: Transgender (pre-t), although also fine w nonbinary and genderfluid, honestly heavy is the heart that transes your gender free is the soul that says screw you to gender

🏹Sexuality: Demisexual, panromantic

🏹Christian✝️ (non-denomination)

🏹Interests and Hobbies: Writing, screenplays (? Is that the right term), art, reading, music, linguistics, history (specifically medieval Europe or the periods of Christianity), pyschology, there’s probably more so I’ll add to this later

🏹Fandoms: PJO, HoO, ToA, Magnus Chase, THG, TSfGaE, MPHfPC, Divergent, anything Alice Oseman, AWaE/AoGG, KotLC, Doctor Who (only on s2 so no spoilers pls), HtTYD, DPS, EPIC the Musical, Hamilton, His Story the Musical, Ashes the Musical, +

🏹Other: probably autistic and/or adhd, but not diagnosed yet👍

🔅🔅🔅

#romansays - my posts, comment on reblogs

#romanreblogs - reblogs

#queue and a - queue

#🔅 - happy posting :3

#💛 - yearninggg

Fandoms are tagged accordingly, so are tws and cws, if one should be added lmk

🔅🔅🔅

Hihi, I’m Roman! Lovely to meet you :3

DMs are open, I think, honestly as long as you’re nice and respectful then feel free to chat

Have a lovely day, keeping yall in my prayers (or just wishing you a good day, if that’s better for some of you) <3