#i know i need to be patient with my body and work with it and i swear i am trying

[the-tarot-witch22]

Love letter from your future spouse 💌 - Pick a pile

Note : *Some intense se*ual messages for you guys too, soo minors DNI*

Pile 1/Pile 2

Pile 3/ Pile 4

Hello everyone ! This is my another pick a pile or pac reading so please be kind and leave comment or reblog, and let me know if it resonated with you!

Note : This is a general reading or collective reading. It may or may not resonate with you. Please take what resonates and leave what doesn't. And it's totally okay if our energies aren't aligned!

How to pick : Take a deep breath and choose a pile which you feel most connected to!

Note : This reading is based on my intuition and channeled messages from tarot cards.

I worked really hard on this pile please show some love by leaving comments, likes and reblogs!

*Buy me a kofi*

Pile 1

(The cards I got ace of pentacles, ace of cups, 2 of cups, page of cups, and the fool)

Hello my dearest,

What can I say? I didn't even meet you and yet I still miss you. Am I going mad, my love? I am working towards my goal and I have almost everything i need at the moment but why do I still feel that longing and sadness, am I insane for this? my life has been okay, I work or study and do what needs to be done, but is it weird to say i am searching for you? I hope you feel the same way… sometimes i dream of you or have that romantic dreams where you are there and when i wake up… nothing? It's making me lose my mind, i can't really talk about it with everyone, they will or might think i am just desperate for some shit, but i am not i want something serious, i want you. I have fun too i sometimes go out with my friends we laugh together, but still when I look at them or when they talk about their lovers or text them in front of me, i just miss you.. Am i being too much? probably but i wanted to tell of this to you, I feel like i need some rest or space from everything or just go somewhere where i can be alone with my and your thoughts, but the responsibilities are holding me back , I wish you were here to hold me and tell me everything will be okay. Sometimes I feel like we make some telepathic or some sort of connection and i feel that intense vibrations in my body, I haven't even met you and here I am being vulnerable, But i know you will love this side of me, will you not? I also want to tell you you're doing great and you will achieve everything you have dreamt of please take proper care of yourself, I wanna meet you soon, and have the love , fun i never experienced or had, You know love, what's funny thing is? I never had something serious or people had just taken advantage of me, but you without even meeting you, i can tell you are what i need. Please be patient for me, universe is in work and they will help us meet at divine timing and I can't wait for it. Until then, my love.

Phew so intense they had a lot to say to you, and they seem so sweet, don't they? i wish you meet them soon.

Pile 2:

(the cards I got 3 of cups, the star, 5 of cups and king of cups)

hey ;)

Hello my star, what are you up to nowadays? Are you having fun without me? wait don't answer me that i might get jealous over it, what's wrong with me I am not scaring you away am I? I tend to speak my mind, and show what I feel, because that's how I am. But sincerely tho, i hope you are having fun and celebration and you are enjoying your life, you know this is what we should do? Like just enjoy our times, I know how hectic life can get and we all deserve the break, so do it for you don't let anyone tell you that you are not doing enough because my star , you are and i already swooning over here from the thoughts of you, would you like to hear about my life too? I will tell you what I am doing nowadays, I had lost something precious to me, I know not a way great way to start a conversation right? But i wanna tell you, I lost something, i hate that I did, but to be honest? If it leads me to you , then i am willing to sacrifice anything for it, i wish we could meet sooner, but i know this distance this gap between us only increase our love towards each other, because distance makes heart grows fonder right? Now I wont deny when I lost that thing I was sad and even cried, But now I am healing and your thoughts are helping me? Do you miss me too at the same time? and wonder what we could have been doing if we were together? Because I do. Always. It's not even funny at this point. Gosh your thoughts make me feel all romantic thoughts, you are such a tease by the way hiding away and making desperate for you, don't you worry my star , I will take my revenge when I meet you, sweet revenge, I will tease you so much that you will regret meeting me late, Don't worry I am just kidding, i tend to get intense sometimes, but your thoughts are responsible they make me like this. But right now I am working towards something I am saving money for us our future and maybe kids too? Well, its a conversation for later… But if you don't want kids we can always have pets, right? I want to give you the world, and care for you so much for you. Now, I have to go… Duty calls, but remember I miss you, and I love you even if we haven't met yet.

Pile 2 your fs sounds like a total flirt and a good person, and I love it for you! You guys deserve it <3

Pile 3:

the cards I got (knight of wands, 9 of wands, 3 of wands, 8 of wands)

Hello sexy wanderer,

Do you know what kind of thoughts, I have for you? You my sexy wildcat, you are a pure goddess and you are so beautiful, and what can I say i have such dreams for you, I just wanna tear off your clothes, i will just leave it at that, You feel like a dream come true. Wherever I go I imagine having intense intimate moments with you, and I don't even know why, such a hold you have on me, and guess what we haven't even met yet. I have to say so much to you but i will hold out for now, I don't wanna scare you away, but its totally opposite I don't wanna scare you away but i also want to impress you, I wanna have enjoy small moments with you. I would like to make out and show everyone who you actually love. Not them who stares at your beauty or just wanna have fun with you but me, you chose me, i will show that I am a proud men, and worthy of you, right now I am travelling to far away lands I like doing that you know, but i am gonna coming to meet you soon. And you believe me when i say i will sweep you off your feet and give everything you are worthy of. See you soon.

Wow, they seem too passionate, and you know what? Good for you guys! Their message was short but their energy? give me a fan right now because I need it! They are definitely fire sign and love travelling, and their sexual drive? HIGH. They gave me so much hot kind of energy, I love it for you guys, i totally see you both meeting soon!

Pile 4 :

(the cards I got 4 of pentacles, the magician, ace of wands, strength, The Hermit, 6 of cups, 3 of pentacles)

Sweetheart? Once, we meet I am not letting you go ever, But i will make sure you know that I deserve you, I might make mistakes here and there, but that's just me being foolish or silly, but I never intend to fight with you or hurt you, You know I am a bit overprotective, but if you don't like that I am willing to change my ways for you, Right now there is so much work pressure on me, i feel overwhelmed so I decided to talk with you, even though we are not in each other's lives right now, I feel I can talk to you about anything you make me feel safe like i can be myself, i never had that, it was always me making efforts, but with you i can feel we are each other's light, and I wish we cross each other's path soon, right now i am enjoying my alone time, I am not dating around, I am waiting for you sweetheart, and I have a feeling we will know we are the ones for each other. I feel we have known each other in past lives or we might have each cross each other's path, but that time timing might not be right, And we both needed to learn some lessons before we meet again, and honestly? I'd like that. I wanna be the best men for you. I love you, and for you I am willing to fight anything or anyone, Some people think i am workaholic, but they don't know what I feel, or who i feel for the person i feel for is you, you make me wanna be a better man, i wish there wasn't this much wait for us to meet, I have so much to tell you, Sometimes I end up fighting with my close ones, I regret it, I am a very calm person but when someone provokes me? I can't take it. I am working on that too. And that's why we are having our self journey's together and let's meet at our best, sweetheart. Till then remember I am here waiting for you and trying to be a best person who deserves you. I love you my sweetheart.

Okayyyy, very masculine and hardworking energy, they or you might be spiritual too, you meeting will be for the best, for some of you i feel friends to lovers trope going to be here, your man sounds so sweet yet tired. But he is doing his best, you guys got a gem.

Thank you for stopping by! Take care and remember you are loved <3

[poppy-metal]

the thought of patrick riding ur face after practice is gonna make me FAINT.

he literally would shove ur face into his musky scent until it’s all ur able to smell for hours

he’s so gross but he loves gross sex

my head goes dizzy thinking about it like he could shower but he comes to visit you and you grab his wrist as he starts towards your bathroom with that big eyed look and he grins - "what?" when you pull him to you "you want a kiss, what? hm?" knowing full well what you want, but wanting you to say it.

presses it even further by saying "m'all sweaty i should shower - you dont want me too? I'm really fucking swamped today, practice was hell." and you whine, you hate him you hate him because him talking about how gross he is just makes your mouth water. hes the one who turned you into a freak, why is he making you spell it out?

"patrick please - just -" you tug on the band of his nylon shorts. his skin is slick with sweat. his pubes peeking from the fabric, dark and curled with the humidity of being contained all day. "let me...."

"let you......?" but he lets you pull his shorts down. bites his bottom lip when his aching cock bounces free, fat and filling with blood. he's so clammy between his legs his balls are sticking to one thigh. "fuck, that feels good. been crammed in there all day - shit needs to air out."

you lower to your knees - back pressed against your bed. head craning up to look at him with submissive eyes that make him groan. he reaches down to grip himself. he's damp with sweat, his cock slick in his hand. he can feel how moist he is everywhere - wet with perspiration that's turned into a heady damp musk. he can smell it wafting from his crotch to where he stands, knows the smell will be hitting your nose soon enough and he really should shower, scrub his dick and balls and ass raw till hes squeaky clean and fresh for you. but you dont want that. he can see by the way you're nearly fucking drooling at the sight of him, clenching your thighs and waiting so patiently. you still haven't asked though.

he gives himself one long stroke.

"let me use your shower." he says. "then i can feed you this dick."

your bottom lip juts out. you shake your head. patrick bites his lip to hide a smile, pumps himself another time, squeezes his ripe head. "no?"

"please," your voice is small, whipser thin. you look near tears with embarrassment. you're so fucking hot. "i dont want you to shower. i want.... i want you like this i want.... i w- wanna put my face in it -"

his cock throbs in his hand. he's so hot he's almost a fucking furnace. he reaches down to squeeze his aching sack, "oh?" he groans, "fuck, that's disgusting, baby, you know how fucking rank sweaty dick is?" he licks his lips. "nah, but you're a slut, huh. bet you fucking want me to ride your face, make you gag on my dirty nuts."

you're nodding, whining as you reach up to pinch your own nipples, horny little minx that you are. "gonna give it to you, then." he grunts, approaching you till hes nearly standing over you. he spreads his legs wide enough that your body fits directly under him. from your view, you have a direct line of sight between his legs, all you can see is the underside of his thick veiny cock, his heavy drooping sack and the tangle of hair below it that trails between his asscheeks. your cunt leaks and you press the heel of your palm into it. "don't fucking beg for air when you asked for this -" and he squats down, bracing his hand against your bed to balance himself as he lowers himself against your face.

he doesn't spend time working you up to it, you'd done this plenty of times, you have a few seconds to gulp in air, breathe in the heady musk of his sweat, eyes stinging at how potent and ripe it is - and then his fuzzy sack is pressing against your face. his balls are so massive - full and plump - that they completely cover your nose and mouth, squishing against you as patrick basically uses your face as a chair. the weight makes your neck strain and you know hes holding a little bit of himself off you so you dont die but it still makes your muscles burn and ache with the strain. and that makes you fucking moan. your lips parting under the soft furry skin of his balls to tongue them.

patrick groans above you. looks down, but he cant really see you, so he reaches down to grip his hard cock which had been resting on your forehead. holds himself up so he can see you a little better, and "shit. " his balls twitch in your greedy mouth, one of the fat stones slipping fully into the open wet hole to be sucked. "give me those eyes. let me see you when you tongue bathe my fucking balls."

your eyes flutter up to meet his, though you cant really see with the water in your eyes, the tears slipping down your temples. one of his fingers rubs the salty tears away for you, rocking his hips against your face so his sack glides back and forth along your lips and tongue and nose. his other hand strokes himself lazily. he doubts it'll take him long to nut, with you breathing into his balls like that, gasping for air and finding none, just more of his sweaty flesh to invade your senses.

"you're so dirty - my dirty beautiful girl." god it feels so fucking good. he lets spit drip from his lips, lubes his dick with it and starts with the quick fast pumps. ones that have his nuts bouncing lightly against you. "lick me fucking clean - c'mon. - wanna feel that tongue."

you whine and the sound reverberates against his sack. your tongue comes out and you're licking greedily across the velvelty skin of him, rolling his balls against your muscle. when he lifts them a little you allow your tongue to dip lower, tonguing his taint and then his inner tighs. you suction your mouth and suck, feel his sweat pool in your mouth and you swallow it. you're so hungry for it. diving back into his fatty potent flesh and drooling around him, swishing him around on your tongue like mouthwash and patricks eyes nearly fucking roll out of his skull.

he pulls back - just to angle his cock down to your swelling pouting mouth, already open and pink inside. his tip is fucking throbbing and leaking steadily, flushed an angry viseral red that needs tending to.

"give me that mouth - oh yeah - that's it -" you take him so well. his rigid length slides in easy over your gyrating tongue - cramming himself down your throat with one languid thrust. "takes me just like that little pussy does - oh god. you're gonna make me cum -"

he slumps over you, your head trapped between his hips and the bed, neck extended as he humps down your throat with little to no consideration for your airway. your hands grip his slick hairy thighs. "open that fucking throat f'r me -" and you do. feel him punch at the very back of your esophagus, reaming you. your hand wildly flies to your own throat, petting at the skin. god, you can feel where hes extending the delicate skin there. you gargle around him, muscles spasming around his meat and he grunts - thrusts faster. his balls dancing on your chin tighten and pull close to his body. "fuck, you fucking gag on that shit - love it when you struggle on my cock - yeah. yeah, shit - fuck im coming - "

thick ropes of it plunge down your throat with his thrusts, pushing it down your stomach, leaving you no choice but to swallow the sour fluid. your eyes waters. your nose runs with snot. your mouth is drooling spit where its split obscenely wide around the cock filling it.

patrick rocks a few more times before he's slowly pulling free - a string of saliva connecting from his flagging tip to your lips. abused and puffy from a thorough face fuck. you gasp and pull in breaths, tears free streaming down your cheeks as you pant and heave.

you're so turned on your hands flutter over your cunt but you cant properly touch yourself, your brain is too fuzzy, you're too cockdrunk to think soundly. you're just throbbing throbbing throbbing. so fucking empty it actually hurts.

patricks hands go under your armpits, picking you up as easy as a limp ragdoll. he lets you flop back onto your bed and you're reaching for him, and hes coming down on you and his tongue is in your mouth sucking the rest of the spit there into his own and then he leans up. lets all that drool and saliva drip down onto his still hard dick - "nod if you're still with me," he pants, because sometimes when you get like this, you need to be cuddled and brought back to earth, not more sex, but you're rocking under him eagerly, legs spreading, the wet slit of your pussy swelled up with greed and your hole a wet sheath begging to be filled. you nod. "good, good. god, i need to fuck this pussy -"

he grips himself and guides himself in, in, in. you both groan. lips coming together in more of a sloppy mesh than an actual kiss.

its hard and intense immediately. hard pumps of his hips against yours, wet slaps filling the room. your bed rocks with the motion and your legs are rising, rising, rising, wrapping around his tuat flexing waist.

"yes." you babble over and over, "yes, yes, yes. i love you - oh god! - i love you, daddy fuck - fuck my pussy, yes-"

he tugs your bottom lip between his teeth, groaning loudly. he works into you harder, his skin gleaming with sweat from fucking you now, your whole bed is gonna be damp with your sticky lovemaking and he loves it, "love you. fuck, god, i love you, baby. love this tight little cunt on my cock -"

[sevsdollette]

thinking about domestic! sevika taking a day off work, but it’s your day to clean and she can’t stop staring at you.

contains: staring, sevika being needy, grinding, thigh riding, talks of breeding

nsfw, MDNI and men get away

you had to clean the master bedroom, scrub the bathroom, and take care of the dishes. your day was full. that morning you had to drag yourself out of bed, escaping the heavy, sleepy arm of your wife that was wrapped around you.

she was a brute in the best way, but she slept like a brick. when she snored, she shook the house. when she dreamt, she muttered. it was an adventure every time you had to pry yourself from the jaws of her grasp to go to the bathroom or get ready for the day.

anyway, you got up. it was a rare day of relaxation for sevika, so you thought getting the chores out of the way without her worrying would be best. she would have a nice day of you taking care of her. a tidy house was the first step.

the bedroom was filthy. laundry was the first task you had to hassle. with such busy schedules, the two of you gained a habit of tossing your clothes anywhere and everywhere. perhaps most of it was in a fleeting moment of hornyness, but nevertheless, it was a mess.

as you cleaned you realized just how much you had to do, and even the clothes on your back were from yesterday. you searched your dresser for something clean to wear, but the only viable option was a pair of tiny pajama shorts.

so there you were, tidying up your bedroom with no shirt, no bra, and only those shorts. you just had to clean everything and have a fresh reset.

it only took a few minutes of this cleaning when you heard rustling in the bed. you took it as Sevika tossing in a dream or sleepily readjusting her pillow.

a minute later, the springs groaned and she sat up in bed, rubbing her eyes to get the image right. “why are you—what—?”

you spun around, a pair of her boxers in one hand and a shoe in the other. “this is the only piece of clothing i own that is clean. i am seriously overdue for laundry.”

her eyes trailed down your chest. “so… there nothing else?”

“nothing else?” you furrowed your brow.

“nothing underneath?”

you scoffed. “sevika, hush.”

after that, everywhere you went Sevika wasn’t far behind. your body was her alarm clock. She was standing against the counter as you brought dishes to the kitchen. Her steady gaze followed your ass as it peaked it from under your shorts.

She liked it when you leaned over to pull the clothes out of the washing machine and shove them into the dryer. (she almost wished you’d get stuck ;) )

when you went to the bathroom to scrub out the tub, she almost felt herself salivate as you bent over the edge. As you leaned to clean the far side, she could see just under the hem of your shorts to the soft flesh of your ass. your lips were purses in concentration; your brow was knit with thought. just one chance of scenery and you’d be pinching your eyes shut for another reason.

once the tub was sparkling, you wiped the sweat off your forehead and stood up. as you got to your feet, your frame fit into sevika’s muscular front. Her hands slid up your stomach and cupped your bare breasts. she hummed and dipped her face into the crook of your neck. she kissed the skin under your ear softly.

“babe, please. i’m cleaning.”

“hmm. why don’t you take a break, baby? i’ll have you sweating in a different way.”

“sevika you’re supposed to be relaxing not worrying about my chores.”

“well, i am worried. you know i like it better when you do things dirty.”

“shut up.”

“though, as a matter of fact. i think the sheets on our bed need scrubbing. why don’t you come with me and help me take a look.”

her tricks didn’t work on you and you pushed her off of you to keep up your cleaning spree. all that was left was the dishes. so you sat her down on the couch (which had a clear view of the kitchen sink) and told her to be patient.

it was amusing to see such a headstrong woman sit so still. you gave her a treat of swaying your hips as you walked away to the kitchen.

as much as you wanted to keep your authority, you couldn’t help but hurry through the dishes. you might have left some dry corners as you wiped the counter. perhaps you stacked more dishes to dry on their own than could safely sit on the mat. but, hey, if your wife wanted to fuck you, how were you supposed to keep her away for so long?

with the last dish put away and the rag wrung out, you turned around to look at Sevika. you set your hands on your hips, meeting her eyes that had been glued to you the whole time. “cleaning’s done,” you mused.

it was almost scary how quickly she was on top of you.

she grabbed your waist, pressing you against the counter and capturing your mouth in a kiss. her rough, greedy hands we’re feeling over every part of your body she had been watching for hours. she groped and massaged your breast, rolling your hardened nipples between her fingers. she smoothed her hands down your thighs and up under your shorts to grab your ass.

you moaned against her lips and kissed her deeper. her tongue slid against yours, tasting your eagerness as she teased your cunt through your shorts. she definitely hadn’t forgotten how little clothing you were wearing.

“you’ve been such a good girl this morning,” she cooed, “cleaning my house and all. now it’s time for you to relax, baby.”

you nodded, whining as she pressed on your clit over the fabric of your clothes.

her kisses carried down to your neck and she was quickly sucking over your skin. just the taste of your flesh was making her moan in your ear. your head tilted back to give her more room, mind feeling dizzy.

while she had you distracted, her hands came up to the crotch of your shorts and ripped them. soon the clothing was falling off your hips and hitting your ankles.

“Sevika! now i actually have nothing to wear.”

she grunted, picking you up to set her thigh between your legs. “good.”

you had no more control over the situation. her hands gripped your hips with a deadly strength as she rolled you over her muscle. you moaned. head falling back as your clit rubbed over her skin.

she had you gasping already. her teeth dragged over the bruises on your neck as she whispered nasty things in your ear. “take it, baby. i love you, sweetheart. fuck, you’ve got me so crazy for you and this cunt.”

a blush heated your face as your growing slick made nasty noises on her thigh. you were married for god sake, but every time she had you flustered.

“Sev—“

“cum on me, baby. i’ll fill you up—i’ll breed my pretty housewife.”

a guttural moan broke your pursed lips and another wave of arousal hit your core. she knew exactly what to say to make you finish. you could feel your climax approaching and you rocked your hips faster.

her hard thigh muscle made a perfect surface to stimulate yourself. she helped you through your faster pace, praising you with how well you were doing, how you were her good, gorgeous wife. too good for her.

you came with a stuttering, muffled plea. she kissed over your sore neck and guided you down from your high. her thumbs rubbed circled over your hip bones as she let you sit gently on her leg. your legs were still shaking.

through hazy, blurry eyes, you looked up at her. she kissed you slowly, sliding her tongue over your bottom lip and then biting it hard.

she picked you up, slinging you over her shoulder and walking to the bedroom.

note: tried a new format, tried no caps. tell me if it's more aesthetically pleasing. this fic is all I want to be for someone. let me be a butch or masc's pretty house wife. gonna get me a mrs degree.

[worldofkuro]

Hi, I love your work! Your writing it's truly amazing,but while I was reading I had a thought seeing how Alice is pregnant. How would Alastor react if his wife died during childbirth? How would he treat the child? And do they have a gender they prefer? You don't need to answer if you don't want to

Hello, dear. I’m happy you enjoy my works, as twisted as it can be. Well, now those are interesting questions.

Alastor would not care for the baby wellbeing, his main priority is you and only you. When the doctor told him you were gone but the baby survived, he felt anger in his body. He didn’t show it of course, he just smiled, asking if he could say goodbye to you.

He felt hollow, saying he was sorry he wasn’t the first to go but he asked you to be patient. He would follow you when his work here was done. 

When the baby was given to him, he just stared at him before asking his mother to take care of it. A girl or a boy, he didn’t really care, they took you away from him. 

He didn’t feel any attachment for the baby, he might have felt something if the baby had your eyes, or when they were older had some of your mannerism, but if not he wouldn't care.

Alastor isn’t a good father. He doesn’t care for his child, he might sometimes talk with them if they have the same interests as him but if not, he would let his mother or your parents take care of it. If not, he would force his child to be the best, never showing any weakness, they had to be the best, in your and his image.

I still think he would be a little softer with a daughter, he would see you in her but would feel pain each time his daughter would do something that wasn’t like you used to be. 

He would be torn between talking about you to his child or keeping it for himself. In the beginning, he would say nothing, they didn’t deserve to know how amazing you were. But then, Alice began to talk about you, and his child began to grow curious about their mother.

He would open up to them about you if they really seemed curious about you. He would tell them your oddly cute habits, hoping they would get this habit themselves.

He would definitely try to ask Baron Samedi for your soul back against his child if needed.

 If his child was as twisted as you and him, maybe they could have some kind of parental bound. Even in his twisted mind, Alastor would see it as a threat. After all, his child already killed you, he would certainly try to kill him too.

[kawareo]

My Durge's stats pre-tadpoles are absolutely insane so I've been thinking what it'd look like if Orin failed to lobotomize him... Like the fight with him a Tav would have to win?

It'd be a bitch but there'd be fun options to make it easier and winnable

Him and Gortash would be working together still but what'd complicate things would be that Bhaal would've grown impatient and reduce Durge to a mess that would've dragged hinself in his temple and stay there. When Tav talks to Gortash, Gort has a massive fresh scar over his neck where Durge nearly killed him last time they were together. Gortash sends Tav to the temple but he fully expects/hopes they would die and that that could bring Durge back to his own mind.

If Orin would still be alive? Tav could make a deal with her that she'd help them find the temple, where she'd eventually need help in the combat with Durge, but if Tav would've helped her, that'd initiate a fight with the entire temple and with Orin, who'd be furious that you intervened.

Then, fight with Durge would be a bitch to win, but there would be some ways to get around and make it easier. Most of all would be useful a Persuasion or Deception proficency, and also going around Baldur's Gate and finding information about him - what would be Tav's best option would be to provoke Durge to a degree that he loses his already fragile cool and Bhaal forces a Slayer form on him - that way he loses his spellcasting abilities and also the double attack he gets from his fighter levels, and his paralysis weapons!

Options for that would get him to lose his shit would be

- [Deception] Gortash has sold you out, you mad dog. You've grown too unpredictable after what happened, we're here to put you down.

Has Advantage if Tav found notes between them or used Detect thought when talking to Gortash and asking him about his injury. He lies to Tav's face but thinks about how Durge mauled him last time they fucked and Gortash had to fight him off of him

- [Persuasion] Look at what you've became; Chosen of Bhaal, yet fighting His gifts? Your own Kin died for what you're rejecting so.

Only available if the above mentioned Orin thing happens. Durge stares at her corpse for quite a while, then proceeds to sort of... Give up. Accepts the Slayer and surrenders himself fully to his Father.

- [Persuasion] [Unholy Assassin] You think you know better than your own god, Chosen? You, who has failed him so in every way?

He starts to yell at Tav that he didn't fail, then as if something hit him, clutches his head and starts begging Father for forgiveness (reciting some parts of Prayer of Forgiveness). While he prays, he cuts himself, the blood drips down his arms and draws itself into the circle of Summoning for the Slayer.

When Tav wins, Durge lays there dying for just a bit longer, stares into nothing and clutching at his wounds and begging Father to forgive him because "im not done yet, Father, please, I can do better, plea-!" And then his eyes roll up suddenly and he dies in a moment, when Bhaal chooses so. His body falls apart and leaves behind only the Stillmaker, his Netherstone, and a half-writen letter that's like Prayer of Forgiveness, but adressed to Gortash and one Durge never got to finish.

The idea is very rough but essentially I love the thought that Bhaal is the one who fucks it all up because he can't be patient for two minutes, and Gortash is still delusional enough for him to hope Durge can go back to normal. If you win and kill Durge, Gortash will be upset and surprised, but will kind of shut off the grief in the moment to focus on dominating the brain. If you would've lost, the canon ending would be that Durge pulls through with the stones, him and Gortash get the Brain under control, and then Durge almost immediately slaughters both of them, leaving Toril to the Brain's mercy.

Another bonus option in the dialogue would be to tell him that you killed Gortash, but if you lied or didn't have Gortash's head to prove it, he would just laugh at you. That option wouldnt be a good idea in any way, because if you wouldn't pass the deception check (DC20) or wouldn't have the head, the laugh would clear his mind enough for him to focus on the fight (not as a Slayer) and if he WOULD believe you, he'd get so angry that he would start a fight with an extra feature that would be an absolute bitch to deal with.

[ikemenomegas]

Levi decides he wants a baby. He doesn't have an alpha, but this is the modern era. Who needs an alpha to have a baby...

But the thought of a total stranger siring his child doesn't satisfy him either. After a year of thinking it over, he finally brings it up in front of his friends and someone recommends

You

Deeply suspicious of an alpha "chill" enough to simply stud for free, and recommended by his friends no less, he accepts an invitation to a group gathering where he spends the whole time not so subtly eyeing you and then pretending not to.

And when you finally get the opportunity to talk to him, you're so offensively nice, Levi has to hold himself back from ruining the encounter

But you can tell he has something on his mind. He doesn't tell you, but your receptiveness, laughing at his clumsy attempts at humor, it all lower his guard.

So when he finally meets you, formally, at a cafe with plenty of private space for you to talk, it's just a tiny bit less awkward.

He reminds himself that he doesn't even need your body. He just needs you to agree.

And he's so frustrated, because you don't. You want to "get to know him", whatever that means. And he knows it's reasonable. He does. But he's waited for so long. He's not getting any younger. And he's waited so long to bring it up and it cannot be so easy yet so impossible.

And again, you're so patient with him, with this frustration so deep that it nearly brings tears to his eyes.

Levi has spent his life carving space in the world for himself, surviving things that aren't so hard for other people, and it's painful, knowing that this thing is so important, that he can't just do this himself.

But you meet again. He wonders, mutinously, which of his acquaintances (...friends, temporarily downgraded) has turned rat on him to make you so nice, kind, patient, attentive, interested. In him.

Yet somehow, before he knows it, you've gone six months. Somehow, it's nothing like he'd expected.

"My answer is yes," you said, in a gap between conversation, cupping a lavender latte, a travesty but so far his only complaint today, between your palms. "But..." you hesitated, but then your resolve seemed to crystalize before his eyes, "I'd like to be involved. With the baby. If you'll let me, if you're open to it."

Levi knows his eyes go wide, and he knows he all but flinches, because he's never even imagined you asking this, never imagined asking you. That's not what this is. You're a donor, a practical stranger. That's what he keeps telling himself rather than wonder if he's just someone you humor on the weekends or odd weekday morning, rather than wonder if he'd rather you actually spend a few nights with him, instead of going through the procedure Hange had told him about, rather than wonder if the kid's going to have your eyes or your smile or your way of folding a napkin with perfect corners after a meal.

His heart is pounding and you look obviously worried, like you've gone too far. It's just...

"A baby is a lot of work," you say, waving your hands like you're showing him you're not a threat. Your scent turns placating, when did he start being able to scent you even under the scent patches? "Even with your family helping. And even if we're not mated, I've been doing research. They say having the donor alpha offer pheromones can help your recovery, and if the kid is omega or alpha, it helps them bond stably." You're babbling. This is surely not what he wants.

"You know what, never mind. I'm sorry. I know you value your privacy, and you won't need another person intruding on your space after the birth. It was wildly out of line for me to--"

"Can I think about it?" he chokes out before you can rescind the offer. "If you, if I, shit," he curses, his cheeks are flushed, but he's cold, but he's not scared. It's just unexpected.

You relax, but he can still see that you're uneasy. He's so stupidly grateful when you nod though and he wonders if you can scent him too, if you can taste it wafting faintly from his neck, that relief.

Neither of you manage to stomach anything more than another tea, and your smile is as weak as his joke about the second latte you order. When you turn your wrist, he can see the rapid flutter of the pulse there and he knows your heart is hammering. He blames it on the caffeine.

You give him space, although you continue to text him regularly. He's stupidly grateful that your texts are normal, even though he appreciates the effort it must take to pretend - because he knows you, and he feels the same way. It takes effort to reply, but he does, because he doesn't want you to think that he wants this to be over.

He's not running away. He's just thinking.

Erwin is no help, happily mated as he is, but he is comforting and encouraging, and being around Erwin's two-year-old, which is really not as bad as people say it is, helps.

Seeing Erwin's alpha doing the normal childcare things Levi has seen a hundred times and thought nothing of helps too.

Hange is clinical and excited about it, spouting unhelpful statistics about post-partum alpha-omega bonds, even between unmated pairs, and mentions studies done with surrogate couples. That makes Levi flush, briefly imagining he's having your baby and not his own, something he quickly shakes off.

Mikasa is surprisingly, or maybe not so surprisingly, level headed about the whole thing. The only thing she's never normal about has been her own mate anyways.

And she asks him the question everyone else may have also been asking, but he hadn't heard.

"What do you want?"

And then he gets to sourly sit through dinner where Mikasa looks at Eren like she wants to literally eat him, like down to the bone, and he excuses himself, wondering how long it will take until he's soft and sluggish, until he can't move so fast that Eren can't tell when he's moved.

Then he sits in his house for a week. He asks you not to call, not to text. To give him time. And you do, and he hopes that you hate it, at least just a little.

At the end of that week, he can't eat in the morning. He turns his phone over and over in his hand before he takes a deep breath, feeling like he's going to throw up.

And then he calls you.

[thelampisaflashlight]

Cryptid Biology Season 2: Jersey Devil

[Previous entry: Here. Omega needs a break. Writing sex as a comedy of errors and nothing more. Cockblocked by an irrigation system.] Below the cut.

Omega would like to say that he's been living it up since his retirement, that he's been lazing about the abbey like an aged tomcat, coming and going as he pleases, but very rarely is that the case... especially not when the band is home from touring.

Injuries and illnesses seem to crop up like daisies in spring these days, and the quintessence ghoul finds his presence needed in the medical wing more often than not, due to both his seniority among the staff, and his talents as a healer.

He doesn't hate his job by any stretch of the imagination, but it can be quite draining, and he often finds himself in need of a little tender loving care...

Unfortunately, it has been kind of difficult to get laid given most of the people hitting on him are his patients.

A demon he may be, but Omega is a consummate professional and takes his oath as a physician very seriously, and part of said oath is -albeit not in these exact words- not to fuck the people under your care.

Of course, one might debate the merits and morals of keeping such a vow outside of office hours...

After all, there are no rules in regards to what he gets up to outside of the infirmary, just that he maintain the decorum expected of his station within the church... But keeping up appearances be damned, Omega needs some fucking ass already.

It feels unnatural for him to have gone for so long without getting laid, he's so pent up he thinks he might go feral if this goes on any longer, and jacking off after work just isn't cutting it these days.

Back when he was in the band himself, it wasn't hard to find a willing body to get his rocks off with, but now everyone looks at him like he's some unobtainable hardass who only exists to tell them to eat right and to stop fucking fruit -Aeon- ...but he's not!

He's perfectly obtainable!

He's always ready to fuck, he's got a fucking PhD in fucking, he's a certified whore!

And people these days just don't respect that!

Where's Alpha to grab him by the throat and show him who's boss before he flips the script and fucks him raw?

When is Mist gonna pop out of the woodworks and peg him until he cries??

Honestly, even Special is looking like a snack now, but he knows better than to get anywhere near the odd ghoul when his even stranger partner, Cowbell, is lurking about.

What he needs someone he doesn't have history with, someone who's willing to let him go deep and-

"I'll bite." a slightly raspy voice offers from behind, making him jump.

A small woman in board shorts and a red tank top with "Jersey Devils" plastered across the chest peers up at him, gesturing with an open can of ginger ale she has clasped in her right hand, "Could be a little tit for tat; You want sex, I wanna see your dick."

Omega is stunned.

"You... What?"

The woman shrugs, sipping her drink.

"You're the one out here muttering about needing to get laid, and I've got nothing better to do." she says, "So unless your standards have jumped way up in the last ten seconds -which if they have, fuck you- you can either take it or leave it. The offer expires when I finish my soda, so you gotta act quickly."

"...I... Who are you?" he flusters, "I was saying that out loud??"

"I didn't ask for your name, so you don't need mine either." she hums, swirling her drink, "I think I have about two more sips-"

"Okay, okay- Fuck..." Omega pinches the bridge of his nose, fuck him and his desperation, "I... Yeah, yeah, let's... Let's do this."

"Fantastic."

"Where-" he starts to ask, and the woman simply grabs his hand.

"I know a place, come on."

...As it would turn out, the "place" the woman had in mind was the abbey's hedge maze.

"It takes most people an hour to get to the center, but I'll show you a secret." she says, moving along the far side of the maze's outer wall, "See that rock there?"

She gestures to a large, pillar of stone.

"Watch this."

With a startling ease, she picks up the rock and sets it off to the side.

"Before you act too amazed, heh, 'a-mazed'..." she shakes her head at her own joke, and then knocks on the stone, which makes a hollow thumping sound, "About two thirds of the rocks in this maze aren't real, otherwise the upkeep would be a real bitch..."

"How did you-"

She shushes him.

"I will not be taking questions at this time." she says, tugging him into the maze and sliding the rock back into position, "If we follow this trail, we'll be in the middle in five minutes."

Omega blinks, unsure of what to do with this new information, but follows her regardless.

Sure enough, they make it to the middle in roughly six minutes -the slight delay being the result of the woman pausing to pluck some leaves off of one of the hedges, because they were, "Uneven." and stuffing them into her pockets- and, honestly, Omega isn't sure what's in store for him now that they've arrived, because he certainly wasn't expecting this.

"Alright, looks like the coast is clear-" she announces, beginning to take off her shirt, which, although Omega knew this was coming, still makes him startle a bit, unprepared to see tits so soon.

...He gets over this initial shock quickly, and begins undressing himself when he sees how quickly the shorts come off, revealing light blue panties that seem ever so slightly too small...

"So why here?" he asks as she leads him over to the grass, "Not that I'm complaining, it's just... an interesting choice."

"It's private," she says, laying herself down on the lawn, she seems oddly relaxed, "but anyone could find us at any minute, and I've learned that's something I like."

Omega kicks off his pants.

"I see..." he hums, "What else do you like?"

"Men who don't ask so many questions." she teases as he kneels between her thighs, "Come on then, take what you want."

And he does.

He plays with her, all of her, from her mouth on down to her thighs, he runs his fingers over every sensitive part he can find, watching as the cotton grows a shade darker with every swipe of his skilled across the fabric.

He presses a kiss to the moles on her inner thigh and leaves bite marks in places he knows must elicit pain and pleasure in the same motion, and he keeps going until-

"...Let me see it."

Omega is just about to take himself out of his boxers when he hears a gasp-

"I'M SO SORRY!" a sister of sin squeals, reeling back in horror along with her friends, who all shriek and run off at the sight before them.

He wants to yell something back, but instead he looks back at the woman beneath him, who gives him a look that's less ashamed and more...

"Come on, big fella, I said I want to see it."

Fuck.

"You really want to continue-"

She hooks her legs around his waist, pulling him down, "I said what I said. Don't make me repeat myself."

Welp.

Decidedly unperturbed, Omega reaches down to slip her panties down to about mid thigh, pushing her legs back away from him to remove them the rest of the way, and proceeds to finish taking his dick out.

"For the record, I'm a grower, not a shower..."

The woman looks down, staring at his cock.

"Purple." she says with a giggle, "Nice."

Omega blushes, a bit embarrassed.

"It's cute."

He groans, ears flicking backwards.

"It doesn't have plates or scales, so that's a bonus... and it's not a tentacle..." she sighs, then slips her hand down to part her folds, "Let's see what surprises you have in store."

Plates... scales... tentacles...

Okay, so she's been with a ghoul before.

A couple ghouls from the sounds of it.

That makes her reaction a bit less...

It bothers him less knowing that somehow.

"No tentacles or fancy plates, but I do have a little trick up my sleeve I think you might like-"

.

.

.

Bea limps into her four o'clock staff meeting, soaking wet, and wobblier than a newborn deer, a sight which Mountain commits to memory as she drops down in the seat beside him.

She smells like sweat, freshly cut grass, and a subtler scent he recognizes as one of his fellow ghouls, but not one of his current bandmates.

"Did you fall in one of the fountains on your way here?" he whispers, nudging her with his elbow.

"Did you set the timer on the sprinklers this morning?" she asks, ignoring his question.

"I did, why?"

Bea inhales deeply.

"I got wet in two ways because of you, today, expect my revenge to be swift and completely disproportionate."

"Huh?"

[flowerpotmage]

Tight Grip, Broken Dam (16)

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You don’t question it anymore, when Miguel appears in your bed at night. He’s not there for sex, no, you’ve never even kissed—though you would be lying if you said you weren’t open to the idea of kissing him. He’s there for comfort. For rest.If only it could stay so simple.

Pair: Miguel O'Hara & GN!Reader

Notes: for chapter: feelings? slight timeskip at start of chapter. someone remembers a sex dream. A/N: if you're still reading, thanks for waiting so patiently!!

Word Count: 2k

Read this chapter on Ao3 here. If you like my work, please consider leaving kudos there as well! You do not need an account to do so.

Gwen stays, and goes. You stay in your own dimension more often, going into the city as Spider and writing for the paper. You find yourself spending even more time with your new friends, Karen, Foggy, and Matt. They don’t say anything about your odd hours or frequent bouts of ‘illness’ when you get a bruise or scrape you can’t easily hide and won’t heal in time for you to make an appearance. You begin to notice that you’re not the only one with odd hours or mysterious injuries—Matt has more and more frequently been appearing with mysterious bruises, stiff movements, and the rare split lip. You’ve caught Karen and Foggy whispering quiet concerned words to him once or twice, hushed voices silenced when they notice you.

Despite these odd occurrences, life continues pleasantly on its way.

“Do you want to go out for breakfast tomorrow,” you whisper quietly one night, raking your fingers through Miguel’s hair and back away from his forehead.

“Tired of my cooking already?” he whispers back, all sleepy half lidded eyes and the corner of his mouth tilted in a smile.

You huff a quiet breath through your nose, amused. “Don’t be dramatic. I just thought you might like to see some of my neighborhood, since I’ve seen some of yours.”

His brows furrow, his mouth opening slightly.

“The headquarters,” you roll your eyes. “Don’t look so concerned. Everyone knows you practically live there.”

He sighs, body relaxing back into the mattress, eyes closing as you continue on with his hair.

“I do.”

“Do what?”

“I have an apartment on the upper floors,” he explains.

You frown slightly. “So you really spend all your time there?”

He smiles again, cracking his eyes open to look at you. The cherry amber red hue of his eyes takes on the rich depth of red velvet cake in the dark, and you smile back.

“What?”

“I’d say I spend plenty of time here too,” he says, and you chuckle. He closes his eyes again. “Breakfast out sounds great.”

“Great,” you repeat, your smile softening.

The next morning when you leave the apartment the air has that liminal just-before-fall and just-after-summer feeling to it. The shade would be just barely too cold if you were any sort of normal human, the sunlight just a bit too warm, and when you look you see that the green leaves on the city trees have just barely started to change.

“We’re a bit behind here,” you say, hands in your pockets to resist the urge to hold Miguel’s hand in your own. You nudge him playfully with your elbow when he looks at you, the furrow of his brow asking you to explain. “Y’know. Our cars still have wheels,” you grin.

Miguel chuffs at that, amused. “Flying cars are overrated. Sure, it creates a whole lot more lanes, but it also creates a whole extra spatial plane to have accidents on–”

You happily listen to him criticize his home dimension, walking along to your favorite nearby spot for breakfast. Happily enough, anyway, given the odd sensation of a far too empty palm.

You struggle to swallow the fluttering down again when you’re sitting across from Miguel at a little table away from the windows, watching him curiously read the menu and then later carefully using the too small silverware that feels just right in your own hands.

You’re out on a rooftop in the late hours of the night, chill air blowing across your suit. It's quiet, the city surprisingly sleepy for one that supposedly never sleeps, and so you’re left with a muddy whirl of thoughts and feelings and no distractions.

You’d be lying if you said you—

“You seem deep in thought.”

The voice pulls your attention away from the hypnotizing whirlpool you’d been staring down into the center of, and back onto dry land. 

“Daredevil,” you greet, turning to look at him over your shoulder. “I didn’t realize I was back in your kitchen.”

“Eh,” he shrugs. “You’re not. It's just over there,” he says and points at the stretch of buildings across the street with his thumb and a little smile. “Noticed you over here and thought I’d say hello, make sure there’s no trouble bringing you this way.” This last part is polite with a hint of concern: he wants to know if he needs to keep an eye out for something suspicious entering his little neighborhood.

You shake your head. “No, just… thinking.”

“Ah,” he nods, and walks closer, all straight lines and friendly air. “Mask, or personal?”

You pause, watching him approach to stand a respectful arm’s length away. You turn away and exhale, crossing your arms loosely, leaning your weight on one leg. “Both.”

Daredevil nods in your periphery, a quiet “Ah” of understanding leaving his mouth. “Someone who knows?”

You nod. “He knows.”

Daredevil pauses, tilts his head to the side in that way he does. “Must be complicated.”

“You have no idea.”

He doesn’t pry, but instead keeps you silent company for the next long moments of night. It's pleasant, really, the quiet company of someone presumably living nearly as strange of a life as yourself.

“I should head home,” you murmur after some time has passed, and he nods.

“You know where to find me, if… well. If you need a hand. Or an ear.” He seems slightly unsure about offering the latter, but there's no doubt in your mind about his commitment to offering the former.

You smile. “Thanks. I’ll swing by again sometime, just in case you need a hand sometime.”

He smiles, gives a short nod, and you swing off into the night.

Peter B. Parker watches Miguel with narrowed eyes across the table. MJ suggested they invite him for dinner again, sans you, for one of the casual nights together they used to have more frequently. But something is off.

Miguel is distracted.

Normally present, somewhat conversational, and at the very least engaged with May, today his mind is somewhere else. He asks MJ to repeat herself not just once but twice, and seems only three-quarters aware of May’s babbling and reaching hands. Peter shares a look with MJ and they separate off into different rooms; her upstairs with the baby, and Peter in the kitchen with Miguel on cleanup.

“So,” he begins, putting away tupperware while Miguel helpfully rinses plates in the sink.

Miguel spares him a glance, eyebrow lifted.

“What’s new?” Peter asks with exaggerated nonchalance.

Miguel’s second glance is bemused. “With what?”

Peter shrugs, crossing his arms and letting his eyes wander around the room lazily. “With, I dunno, whatever.” His eyes snap to Miguel, who is finally focused and slightly suspicious.

“I feel like you are trying to imply something, Peter, and I’m not sure I follow.”

Peter purses his lips slightly, holding back a smile. “You just seem distracted, is all. Something on your mind?”

Miguel shakes his head, turning back to the sink.

Peter sorts through his own thoughts, through the roulette wheel of ways he can needle his friend about his life.

“Someone on your mind?”

Miguel’s shoulders tense, but he continues on with his small helpful task. “Don’t be ridiculous, Peter.”

He’s hit the nail on the head.

“There’s nothing wrong with being happy. With having a life.”

Miguel is silent for just a heartbeat too long. “Whatever you think is going on—”

“Come on, Miguel–”

“Leave it. There’s nothing.”

Peter leaves it. For now.

“How did you meet?” you ask the other Miguel. You know you shouldn’t, but… curiosity is crawling everywhere your mind turns. You try to rationalize it away — you’re just getting to know a friend, you’re curious about your alternate reality self. Everyone else here has gotten to compare lives, so why shouldn’t you?

He smiles, eyes taking on that faraway look of reminiscence. “I was getting my master’s degree. I wasn’t… I wasn’t Spider-Man, yet,” he shrugs, a small smile creeping over his lips. “We had a conversation on campus, in a library. I was looking for a paper referenced in my reading on the genetics of pain tolerance, and y– well, the other you,” he gives an apologetic, rueful smile before continuing: “You were in the last year of your bachelor’s, and totally lost. The student librarian gave you the wrong directions, so I helped you figure out where you really needed to be.”

You smile softly. “How nice of you.”

“Well, not really,” he laughs. “I was trying to be friendly, but I had this… this sarcastic know-it-all thing going on. We didn’t see each other for a year after that, and then suddenly you were a paid intern where I had just gotten a job.”

“Alchemax?”

“Alchemax,” he confirms.

As he tells the story of how he met the other you, the way the two of them slowly became friends and then more at the end of the internship when the dimension-209 version of yourself left for a different job, the way they fell in love, and he became Spider-Man but you figured it out together and still got married, the way he loved the living version of your aunt and….

You listen, and can’t help but picture yourself in this life. One where you finished school and never got bit by that spider, where your aunt never died, where you live a normal life with—

Shit. You might not be able to ignore this for much longer, after all.

“It sounds like you had a good life together,” you offer, when 209 falls quiet.

He nods, smiling sadly. “We did.”

It’s after dinner and you’re watching Miguel clean up the dishes from your seat on the couch. He’s long since relinquished total control of the kitchen and now includes you in the process of cooking, even if the space is a little cramped. But he refuses to budge on cleanup, insisting on doing it on his own.

“Are you sure I can’t–”

“Don’t even think about it,” he says firmly, shooting a stern look over the counter before he loads the dishwasher.

The dishwasher. The–

Whatever noise you let out would embarrass you beyond belief, if it weren’t for the hand now snaking down your front.

“Dishes,” you say, breathless. That’s right—you had been loading the dishwasher before this.

Your face heats, stomach flipping, as the memory of a dream from much too long ago comes rushing back. You swallow, averting your eyes from the kitchen, unable to stop the careening train in your head that’s rebuilding the dream from scratch, the roles reversed.

Miguel, standing in the kitchen. You, this time behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist and letting your hands wander–

“Alright, sheesh,” you finally say. “My apologies, Kitchen Lord.”

You don’t have to look to know that Miguel is rolling his eyes.

As he finishes up you escape down the hall to the bathroom, closing the door behind yourself with a hard click. You don’t know why you’re so… whatever the hell this is. It’s not like you’ve never had other dreams about him, it’s not like you’re completely unaware of the steadily growing feelings you secretly harbor. It’s just… it’s just…

It’s just what?

You flush the toilet, wash your hands. Miguel’s toothbrush—how long has he had a toothbrush here?—sits innocently in the cup beside your own, staring back at you.

It’s just that now it doesn’t feel like harmless attraction to a friend. It’s just that now, when these moments happen they send you fleeing into the bathroom. It’s just that now it’s—

Shit.

You dry your hands on the hand towel, open the door, turn off the light. You stand in the darkness of the hallway, though it really isn’t all that dark with your slightly enhanced vision, heart pounding.

And then Miguel steps into view at the other end of the hall, the light behind him casting a soft glow on the hard angles of his face and the soft curve of one side of his mouth.

He opens his mouth, and you can see the gentle frown in his brow before you cut him off. It comes out before you can stop it, before you can think through what it is you’re asking and what might follow.

“Can we talk about something?”

<< Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter >>

[sharkieboi]

i keep having to like fight for my life at the pharmacy to get prescriptions filled and I had a call with my T doctor that was supposed to be a few weeks follow up about switching to T gel, but I haven’t yet gotten the fucking gel because insurance sent it back for prior authorization and this guy is too fucking overbooked to remember to do that and/or this hospital just fucking sucks at communicating between doctors and the pharmacy.

so we had our call to check in and im desperately just like can you do the prior authorization so I can actually start this med like fucking PLEASE I’m so tired!! and he responded “are you okay you sound pretty distressed” and I was clenching my fists to try and respond cause YES. I AM DISTRESSED. I keep having to call and fight for every medicine I need to function as a basic human being and be the person I want to be! I’m so dysphoric right now I want to die but my hands shake like a fucking vibrator every time I try and stab myself so I need to switch my method of T to something not a needle! and I’m constantly fighting for my life to get my adhd meds filled and not to be a meth-head but i legit don’t know how I functioned for 27 fucking years and made it through GRAD SCHOOL without meds cause my brain is so much clearer and I function so much better when I can actually get my thoughts in order and focus for real.

so yeah!! I’m in distress!!! I want my brain to work and I want my body to look and function how I need it to!! and this doctor’s blasé attitude to not being able to get my prescriptions filled is going to be the death of me!!!

[the-trans-dragon]

What if they didn't put ads every 3 posts. Three posts between ads, literally. Not even counting the ad for Tumblr Live.

Also what if tumblr didn't know what city Im in. I do not want my location tracked or stored anywhere unless I give explicit ongoing permission, like with my GPS app that I allow to track me only when the app is open, and then it deletes the data (allegedly) when I stop giving permission.

[faultsofyouth]

can't decide if I want to be a gynecologist or if I want to marry one

[izzy-b-hands]

Me sitting here, feeling vaguely less shit: Time do things??? !!!

My body as soon as i get up and actually try to do things: How about more feeling so hot you'll die and dizziness? What abt that, motherfucker?

Me: ...or not, fucking SORRY for WANTING TO BE PRODUCTIVE. How dare I, apparently

[clamorybus]

i do love my dad and he's grown a lot as a person, but i do wish he'd go to therapy for his own sake. it affects him in so many ways that he doesn't even realize

[bitseventimes]

oof it's loathe myself hours I'm venting in the tags sorry

[featherymainffins]

Binge-reading Dungeon Meshi because it's the only thing standing between me and suicide ngl.

[youngks-smile]

What I Want You To Know About Long COVID

Well lads, I've been suffering from Long COVID for over a year now. My life is at a complete standstill. I'm 25 years old and I'm too sick to go back to school, I can't work, I had to move back in with my parents and I'm still stuck here.

Here are just a few things I wish people knew about Long COVID, including things I didn't know myself until I got it.

COVID destroys your immune system. Yes, even if you don't have Long COVID. Are you getting sick more often now? When you get sick, does it last longer? There are many studies showing that COVID causes t cell depletion, even in mild COVID cases! T cells are how your body remembers how to fight off infections you've had before so losing those cells? Bad news.

Your initial infection can be mild and you can still get Long COVID. Right from Yale Medicine, "Most people with Long COVID had mild acute COVID." (This is also a good link for a basic Long COVID overview).

There can be a gap of time between when you "get better" from the initial COVID infection to the onset of Long COVID symptoms. Some people get sick with an initial COVID infection and never get better. Some get better and then weeks or months later start developing Long COVID symptoms. Long COVID symptoms can even fluctuate over time, can go away for months and then suddenly come back.

So many people have Long COVID and don't realize it. Do you feel more tired lately but no matter how much you sleep, nothing helps? Is it harder to concentrate at work or school? Can you just not think like you used to? You could have Long COVID and not even know it. Even mild post-COVID symptoms are still Long COVID.

COVID can do anything to your body. Long COVID has over 200 recognized symptoms and can affect basically any part or system of your body. There is no one mechanism or cause of Long COVID which unfortunately also means there's no one cure either.

The effects of COVID are cumulative. Each COVID reinfection increases your chances of developing Long COVID. COVID is also affecting your body in other ways, yes, even if you're otherwise young and healthy! "Repeat COVID-19 infections increase risk of organ failure, death".

Once you have Long COVID, repeat COVID infections will make your symptoms worse. "80% [of Long COVID patients] saw their symptoms worsen [from reinfection]. In 60% of people who were in recovery or remission from Long COVID, reinfection caused a recurrence of Long COVID."

There is a lot more I want to say about Long COVID but I want to keep this post at least somewhat manageable to read. Like how when COVID is contracted during pregnancy, those COVID-exposed fetuses have a 6.3-fold increased risk of motor developmental delays, or that another study found 50% of babies exposed to COVID in utero had developmental delays.

You need to keep caring about COVID, for others around you and also for yourself even if you're "healthy". Everyone is at risk. And don't forget 40-60% of COVID infections are asymptomatic, which is why masking even if you feel fine is crucial. The only way right now to not get Long COVID is to not get COVID in the first place. It's not too late, if you've stopped masking it's never too late to start again! I know it's easy to get distracted by things in your life that seem more real than the possibility of getting sick some time in the future, and the peer pressure to not mask can be intense. But it only feels less real or less important until your entire life is having Long COVID. Trust me.

I know this is a complicated issue, many people can't afford to stay home when sick even if they want to because of their jobs, there are disgusting policies trying to ban wearing masks, but please if you can. Keep masking. Masking works, masking saves lives.

This post got a bit longer than I wanted so below the cut is a non-exhaustive list of my Long COVID symptoms and some of my experiences as one of the "healthy young people" who got "unlucky". cw brief mention of suicidal ideation.

Welcome to the Thunderdome that is my body with Long COVID. Keep in mind these are just my experiences and symptoms, Long COVID can cause any range of symptoms at varying severities.

Dysautonomia: Exercise intolerance, Post-Exertional Malaise (PEM), fatigue, and heat intolerance. What do those things mean? Here's some specific examples. Absolutely terrible circulation I am so cold all the time but also, if I get a little too warm I will pass out. Eating hot food makes my heart rate spike, I sweat, my body feels heavy. Blood pooling and pins and needles in my feet when I walk. Don't even think about exercising past walking, it's impossible. I used to work out an hour a day 4 times a week and now walking up one flight of stairs makes my heart pound and I can't breathe. Can't take even just warm showers anymore or I will pass out. Heat rashes from being in the sun for 10 minutes.

Digestive issues: Honestly too many to name but: constant bloating, extreme nausea, constipation, slow motility, lack of appetite, just so much cramping and pain. I lost 18 pounds from Long COVID, as someone who was already considered underweight their entire life, and almost had to get a shunt put into my chest to deliver nutrients because I was nearly completely unable to eat. For the first 6 months of Long COVID, if I could manage 600 calories a day, that was a good day.

Histamine intolerance: Oh boy. My worst symptoms, I don't even know where to start with it. If you know Mast Cell Activation Syndrome (MCAS) it's very similar. I can only eat 19 foods. If i eat a single bite of something not on that list, it's 48 hours of absolute hell. Coughing, migraines, itchy eyes, such extreme nausea I cannot even describe it, panic/feeling of doom, racing heart rate, derealization, rash, uncontrollable muscle tremors. I only learned about histamine intolerance 5 months into having Long COVID so before that, I was experiencing these symptoms nearly every single day. Terrifying isn't even a strong enough word to describe how it felt to experience all this and have no idea what it was, how to stop it, or if it would ever stop. Really dark times.

Neurological issues: More of that derealization. Inability to concentrate. Anxiety. OCD-like symptoms such as thoughts getting "stuck" in my head, repeating 24/7 completely unable to stop them, genuinely felt like my brain had cracked open and I had lost my mind. Constant dizziness like I'm on a boat.

Sleep issues: I sleep like garbage. I have insomnia, I wake up dozens of times every night and every single time I sleep I have intensely vivid dreams. I can't sleep longer than 7 hours total no matter how exhausted I am. It is exhausting. I'm exhausted, I'm so so tired.

And finally. Just. Really intense suicidal ideation. My body, my health, my entire life has been stolen from me because someone else decided my life was worth less to them than wearing a mask or staying home if they feel sick. Before I got Long COVID, I was preparing to go to South Korea to teach English, then on to a PhD in neurolinguistics, I was supposed to meet my long distance partner and had already booked plane tickets when I got sick. All of that has been destroyed.

Most of us with Long COVID are stuck in a cycle of being extremely sick, then if you're lucky you'll slowly get better over months, just to get reinfected and go right back where you started or worse. Honestly, I'm not scared of dying from COVID. I'm scared of living for a long time, suffering from Long COVID the entire time. This isn't living.

I don't know how to end this now. I'm still fighting, I'm trying experimental treatments, I'm not giving up yet. I hope everyone reading this stays healthy and well.