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ereardon · 1 year

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More Than Enough [Bob Floyd x Reader]

A Single Dad Bob Fic

Summary: The first two times Bob Floyd ends up in your emergency room he’s a mess. You never expected him to return a third time. But when he does, it changes everything.

Pairing: Robert “Bob” Floyd x OC

Warnings: Medical setting, blood and needles, cursing Word count: 4.4K

Bob Floyd masterlist here

“We’ve got another one.”

You sighed, lifting the hair from the back of your neck and fanning it before clipping your hair up and straightening your scrubs. “Be there in a second, Liz.”

Your charge nurse nodded, waddling away from the desk and you pushed back from your chair, wandering down the hall, knocking lightly before walking through the door on the right.

“Hi,” you said, grabbing the chart from the folder on the wall and stepping further into the room. “I’m Y/N, I’ll be your nurse today.”

“Hi.” You looked up. His voice was deep and gravely and insanely sexy despite the fluorescent lights of the ER and the sterile aesthetics of the triage room. The patient on the bed had sandy blond hair that was combed back neatly and a pair of wire glasses that slid down his pert nose. His pink lips were curled up in a delicate, shy smile, large hands spread out on either side of his body. “How are you?”

You laughed, skimming the clipboard chart one more time before setting it down near the sink. “Better than you, Mr. Floyd, by the looks of it. Says here you have a hook in your foot.”

The man nodded, lifting his left leg and you saw it immediately: an old fishing hook sunken into the flesh toward his ankle. You grimaced while putting on a pair of gloves.

“And how did this happen?”

“Playing football on the beach,” he said as you poked at the skin around the hook. “Just stepped somewhere I shouldn’t have, apparently.”

You nodded. “Well, Mr. Floyd–”

“Bob,” he said.

You smiled. “Bob. I’m going to give you a shot for tetanus. We’re not sure where this hook has been, so better safe than sorry.”

Bob winced as he watched you dip the syringe into the glass vial of medicine.

You sat down on the rolling stool and reached out, pushing up the sleeve of his shirt from his upper arm, rubbing a circle spot with an alcohol swab. “So beach football. That sounds fun.”

“I, um, I play with my team.” Bob closed his eyes as you slid the needle into his skin, pressing the depressor slowly.

When you pulled it out, covering it with a fresh cotton ball, reaching for a band-aid, he kept his eyes closed. You patted his arm softly. “Mr. Floyd, you’re doing just fine.”

His eyes shot open and he smiled, embarrassed. “Sorry, I’m a major wuss when it comes to needles.”

“Most people are,” you said, examining his foot. “What kind of team? Like a rec league?”

“Oh, no,” Bob said as you cleaned around the entrance of the metal hook on his foot. “My squadron. I’m in the Navy.”

“Really?” You pressed down on the top of his foot, looking up at Bob. He caught your eye.

He nodded. “Aviator, ma’am.”

“What’s that like?” you asked. Just as Bob opened his mouth to reply, you yanked on the hook, eliciting a sharp grunt from him. You shook your head with a sad smile. “Sorry, better not to see it coming.”

“Think you’re right about that,” Bob said, his voice a little higher than before.

You smiled sweetly up at him, pressing against the wound with cotton to stop the bleeding. Bob laid back against the bed, looking a little more pale than before. “Mr. Floyd?”

“Bob,” he gasped.

“Bob,” you repeated. “Are you feeling dizzy?”

“Not a fan of blood, either,” he muttered and you looked down to see that blood had soaked through the cotton you were holding. You quickly switched it out.

“Lay back for me,” you said softly, “and close your eyes.” Bob did as he was told and you wrapped his foot gently once the blood had stopped flowing from the wound. You ran the sink with cold water, dampening a towel and folding it up, placing it gently on Bob’s forehead. He sighed audibly. “There. Just try to relax, OK?”

He chuckled. “Not a very good first impression, huh?”

You smiled even though he couldn’t see you. “I’ve had worse.”

Just as you were about to open your mouth and ask about his personal life, the door swung open and a beautiful brunette entered the room with a little girl on her hip. Your heart sank in your chest as she set the toddler down and watched as the toddler rushed to the bed. “Daddy!”

Bob’s eyes fluttered open and he smiled brightly. “Hi Sugar.”

“She insisted we follow you,” the brunette said. She was gloriously tan and chiseled, wearing just a black sports bra and a pair of small athletic shorts. She turned to you with a grin. “How’s our boy doing?”

“He’ll be just fine,” you said, trying your hardest not to be jealous of this perfectly kind stranger who just happened to be the wife of your patient. But you also wanted to claw her eyes out and claim him as your own.

“Daddy, you fainted.” The little girl had her hands on the sheets where she could reach and Bob leaned over, trying to scoop her up, but couldn’t quite reach her.

“Here.” You crouched down next to the little girl. “Want me to help you get on your daddy’s bed?”

She nodded enthusiastically and you smiled, lifting under her arms, plopping her against the sheets and Bob’s waiting arms. You watched as Bob enveloped her in his embrace, veins and muscles on his arms rippling as he held her tight.

The brunette cleared her throat. “Floyd, I can take Andie home, depending on how long you’ll be here?”

Bob turned to you. “Y/N?” he asked and you liked the way he said your name instead of nurse or hey you or even ma’am. “How long do you think?”

“I just want to keep you here another fifteen minutes or so, make sure you’re reacting OK to the vaccination and you’re no longer a fainting threat, and then we can get your discharge papers completed. Won’t be more than an hour.”

Bob nodded. “I’ll take her home, Nix, don’t worry about it.”

The brunette put one hand on her hip. “You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. You want to stay with me, Sugar? Or do you want Auntie Phoenix to take you home?”

Andie clung to Bob’s side. “I want to stay with you, daddy!”

You caught the auntie part of the conversation. As you swapped out his gauze for a bandage you looked quickly.

No wedding ring.

Things were looking up. You smiled as the brunette leaned over, kissing the top of Andie’s head. “OK sweetheart, you can stay with your daddy. Floyd, I’ll check on you later. Bradshaw will drive you home, OK? He’s in the waiting room.”

Bob nodded. “Thanks. Tell him we’ll be out soon.” Bob turned to you as Andie settled in his arms, her gaze already on the TV in the corner. “Sorry, that’s my pilot, Natasha.”

“She’s pretty.”

Bob flushed. “I, um, I was going to say the same thing about you.”

You loved that he was flustered. In his arms, Andie stirred. “Daddy? How much longer?”

“Just a little bit, honey,” he said. “Do you want to wait with Uncle Bradley?”

She shook her head. “No, daddy, want to be with you!”

“OK Sugar,” he said, looking up at you sheepishly. “Sorry, she’s three and a little antsy.”

You waved one hand in the air. “Don’t worry about it. She’s adorable.” You finished your note on his chart. “Well, Mr. Floyd, you’re going to be just fine. In about fifteen minutes, the floor nurse will come in and get you the discharge papers and you two will be free to go.”

Just as you were about to turn on your heel, Bob’s voice caught you. “Y/N?”

You turned. “Yes?”

He looked down at Andie’s blonde head and then back up at you and sighed. “Um, thanks. For everything.”

You smiled but it was thin. “Of course, it’s my job.” You waved. “Bye sweetheart.”

“Bye!” Andie’s sugary voice rang out in the sterile room.

You turned on one heel, flattening yourself to the hallway after shutting the door, letting out a breath. For a moment, you had thought he was going to ask you out. But of course he wasn’t. Who were you kidding? A gorgeous pilot with a daughter? He was surely off the market, even if he wasn’t wearing a ring.

You opened your eyes just in time to see an incredibly beefy guy slide down the hallway, his brown eyes landing on yours. He grinned, white teeth, slightly crooked smile. Fuck, he was beautiful, too. What was going on?

“Hi,” he said, stopping in front of you. “I, uh, I’m looking for Bob Floyd’s room?”

You hooked a thumb to your left. “Right there,” you said.

He grinned. “Thanks.” He didn’t make a move to leave.

You pushed yourself off of the wall and nodded. “Anytime.”

The mustache man followed you with your eyes as you walked away from the room, as far as you could get from the tiny little corner of the hospital that was inhabited by the most beautiful people you had ever laid eyes on within a ten minute span.

Back at the nurse’s station, you collapsed into your chair.

“I know that look,” Liz said, eyebrow raised.

“What look?”

She shook her head, grabbing for her water bottle. “Watch out, sweetie. There’s only one reason you could possibly look like that?”

“And how do I look?”

“Fucked.”

***

You hadn’t been able to get Bob Floyd out of your head. That’s why, two weeks later, when he rushed into the ER in the middle of the night, you blinked rapidly, convinced that the night shift was melding with your subconscious somehow.

“Hello?” he called out into the hallway and you rushed forward, noticing that he had Andie in his arms, her face pink with anguish. “She won’t stop crying and throwing up and oh my God, I don’t know what’s happening.”

“Put her down here,” you said, leading them to a bed and drawing the drapes tightly. Andie rolled onto her side, clutching her abdomen. “Hi honey. I’m just going to take a look at your belly, OK?” She nodded, but continued to cry as you lifted up the hem of her pajama top, touching her distended belly gently as she cried out. You looked up at Bob. “It’s most likely appendicitis but we’ll need a CT scan to confirm.”

Bob ran a hand through his hair. He looked much more disheveled this time and you almost wanted to sling an arm around him, pull him into a hug. He looked like he needed it.

“Let me call down to radiology, we should be able to get her in immediately.”

You stepped toward the phone on the wall, speaking quickly, eyes on Bob as he hovered near Andie’s bed, whispering softly in her ear.

“Another nurse will come and take her down in a minute,” you said gently.

Bob looked up. “Can I go with?”

You shook your head and his face fell. “I’m sorry. But you’ll get to see her before she goes into surgery.”

“Is there anything you can give her for the pain?” he pleaded. “I just, I don't know what to do.”

You nodded. “We’ll give her some medicine before the procedure and after.”

A knock on the door stole both of your attention. “Mr. Floyd? I’m here to take Andie down to radiology.” A short nurse with her hair tied back smiled at the door. “Are we all set?”

“Yes.” You looked at Bob and Andie. “It’ll only be twenty minutes, I promise.”

He nodded, leaning over and kissing Andie’s head. “I’ll be right here, baby, I promise. Be good for me, Sugar.”

“Daddy!” she cried and you saw how it gutted him.

He swallowed the pain. “It’s OK, honey. You’ll feel better soon.”

And then they were wheeling Andie’s bed out of the room and Bob collapsed onto the chair near the wall, head in his hands. You waited a moment before walking over, squatting down and pressing one hand to his knee gently. “Hey. She’s going to be OK, I promise.”

Bob looked up and you saw tears in his blue eyes. He wiped at them. “I’m sorry. There’s nothing scarier as a parent than rushing your kid to the ER in the middle of the night.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you said softly. “I can’t even imagine.”

“Do you have kids?”

You shook your head. “I don’t.”

Bob sighed. “I never thought I wanted kids,” he whispered, like a confession. “And then Andie came along and she changed everything.” He paused. “She’s my entire world. I can’t explain how helpless I feel watching her in pain knowing it’s out of my control.”

Your hand was still pressed against his knee. “She’s going to be alright,” you said. “I promise, nothing bad is going to happen.”

“Thank you.” The two of you hovered there for a moment, eyes locked on each other. And then the door swung open and you stood up quickly.

“It’s a ruptured appy,” the nurse said. “We’re taking her down to OR two.”

“You have to let him talk to her first,” you said and Bob looked at you, surprised. “He has to tell her it’s going to be OK. She’s scared.”

The nurse nodded hastily. “Fine, but do it quickly. Dr. Roberts is already scrubbing in.”

The three of you trailed down the hallway to where Andie laid in a bed near the elevator, another nurse speaking with her quietly. Her eyes flicked to Bob immediately, widening with recognition and comfort. He reached out, stroking her hair. “Hi Sugar,” he whispered and you could hear in the pits of his voice how much he was holding back. “Listen, the doctors are going to make you better and when you’re done with your nap, I’ll be waiting for you.”

“With a toy?” she asked, her voice light and soft.

Bob smiled. “Yeah, honey, with a toy.”

“Promise, daddy?”

Bob nodded. “I promise. Be right here when you’re done, OK?”

Andie smiled and Bob pressed a kiss to her forehead before she was wheeled down the corridor, through the double doors at the end of the hallway. He turned to you with sad, wide eyes. You were an ER nurse – technically, you needed to hand over Andie as your patient to the surgical team. You would go to the nurses station and finish the chart, have it signed off by the attendings who completed her surgery after it was done. But something about the frazzled way that Bob looked and how his leg had felt beneath your palm made you throw everything else to the side.

“Come on,” you said, putting one hand on his arm gently. “Let’s get a coffee. It’ll be an hour or two.”

He frowned. “You don’t need to see more patients?”

You shrugged. It was three in the morning on a Tuesday. Only one bed was filled. “It’s quiet. They’ll cover for me.”

“Are you sure?”

You nodded. You didn’t want him to be alone. “Besides, I know where the good coffee is.”

That’s how you and Bob ended up on the third floor doctor’s lounge sipping out of mismatched mugs, the sun still asleep beneath the blanket of the horizon.

“So a pilot, huh?” you asked. “That must be exciting.”

Bob smiled but it was quick. Tight. “Yeah.” He took a sip of coffee and looked up. “Actually, can I tell you the truth?”

“Of course.”

“People always say that and I always respond the same. Yeah, it’s exciting. Yeah, it’s cool. But the truth is, it’s fucking terrifying. Going up in jets every day not knowing if I’m going to be able to pick my daughter up from daycare later or not.”

“So why do you do it?”

“Only thing I’ve ever been good at,” he replied.

“That can’t be true.” Your eyes wandered over Bob’s strong hands, the way the coffee mug was engulfed by them. The wire glasses slipping down his nose. The way he carried himself. Like he was too much of a burden to compete for space in the room, even though there was no one in there besides the two of you.

“Being a dad,” he said softly. “I’m good at that. I think.”

“You are.” He lit up. “The way Andie looks at you? You’re her hero.”

Bob put his coffee cup down. “You’re just saying that.”

“You don’t know me,” you said, “but I don’t really make a habit of lying just to make people feel good about themselves.”

He laughed. “So that’s why you became a nurse, huh?”

“That and an oppressive need for academic validation. Plus I look cute in the uniform.”

Bob smiled at you. “True.”

You blushed. In the dim light of the lounge, you could see Bob’s profile and he was even more beautiful than you had made him to be in your head. “So, Andie’s mom?”

He shook his head. “She’s not in the picture.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

“I am, too,” he said quietly. “For Andie, not for me. We were never good together. Right now, I’m just trying to be enough. I’m doing everything I can, but I know that one day she’s going to grow up. And I am going to be useless when she comes home asking me to buy her a miniskirt or what dress to wear to prom or how to put her hair in French braids for some costume party.” He smiled at you sadly. “I just know that I won’t be enough.”

“The fact that you’re already thinking of that tells me you’re more than enough,” you replied. “She’s lucky. And I’m not just saying that.”

Bob chuckled lightly. His voice was deep and silky. “Do you give all your patient’s parents the VIP treatment?”

“Nope,” you said, setting down your coffee cup and turning to where he sat in the leather chair next to you. “You’re special.”

“Oh yeah?” Bob murmured, leaning forward over the arm of his chair, his face dangerously close to yours. “Why is that?”

“Because–” Just then, your pager beeped. You leaned back and pulled it off your waistband. “It’s Andie’s surgery. She’s in recovery.”

Bob jumped up, cheeks flushed. “And?”

You smiled. “No warnings. It must have gone perfectly.”

“Oh, thank God.” The relief coming from his voice could sooth a thousand wounds.

You grinned. “I’ll take you down to her room.”

As you turned to head out toward the hallway, Bob stopped you, his hand on your wrist, fingers circling yours. “Y/N, I–”

“I know,” you said softly, letting his hand slide into your own. “We should go, Andie’s waiting.”

You understood what people meant when they said their ovaries were going to explode the second you saw Andie and Bob reunite in the post-op room. Her tiny face lit up as she watched Bob walk through the door, her little arms reaching for him instinctively. The way he cradled her head to his chest, patting her back softly, kissing her temple. There was a warmth spilling out into the room, radiating off of the two of them like an aura. You stood in the doorway as the sun crawled over the horizon and watched father and daughter reunite.

After a while, you stepped up to the bed. “Hi sweetheart, heard you did great in there,” you said softly and Andie beamed. “I’m going to let you and your daddy get some rest, OK? Someone will be back in a bit to check on you.”

“Bye!” Her small voice was like a thousand little violins.

Bob turned to you, one hand still touching Andie, making sure she was there. She was safe. “I can’t thank you enough,” he said quietly. “Is this the end of your shift?”

You checked your watch. It was six thirty. You had been off for thirty minutes. “Yeah, it is.”

“I, um.” He looked down at Andie, her baby blue eyes tracking him. “Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow if we’re still here.”

You smiled. “You two will be released by then, I’m sure.”

“Oh.” There was something dejected about the way he said it. You shuffled from foot to foot. “It was nice seeing you again. Bob.” The way his name felt on your tongue. It was fuzzy and soft and you wanted to hold onto it for as long as you could.

“You too, Y/N,” he said softly.

You turned, heading for the door, before spinning back around, digging in your pocket, pulling out a tiny stuffed penguin on a keychain. Your niece had given it to you a few months ago for your thirty-first birthday and you had almost forgotten it was still in your pocket from where you had scooped it up earlier after it fell out of your bag onto the locker room floor as you were rushing for a code. “Bob,” you said quietly and he turned, eyes bright. You slipped the toy into his hand quietly so Andie wouldn’t see. He looked down then back up in surprise. You grinned. “You promised her a toy, remember?”

His fingers lingered over yours before finally you pulled away, the heat of Bob’s stare warming you from your core like lava. “Thank you.”

You smiled. “Bye again.”

This time you did leave, your chest tight as you shut the door softly, turning down the hallway, putting as much space between you and Bob Floyd as you could. Because you knew that if you didn’t, you’d embarrass yourself. You’d run back into the room and beg him to take you out. To kiss you. To talk to you with a fraction of the love that he spoke to Andie with. That would be enough.

It would be more than enough.

***

It was the end of a long day. You sat down at the nurse’s station with a sigh, kicking your feet up on the desk, closing your eyes. Only a few seconds passed before someone was tapping your shoulder incessantly.

Your eyes snapped open and you groaned. “What?”

“You’re going to want to see this,” Kirsten said. She had one hand on her hip, head tipped toward the lobby area.

“Bloody?” you asked excitedly.

She shook her head. “You’re nasty. No, it’s better.”

“If it’s not a bloody accident I don’t want it.”

Kirsten rolled her eyes. “It’s better so just shut up, put a smile on that face and maybe puff out your boobs a little, you’re looking saggy.”

“What?”

She laughed as you stood up, fiddling with your scrub top, frowning as Kirsten pushed you around the corner toward the lobby doors. You stopped dead in your tracks.

Bob Floyd stood in the atrium of the hospital, still wearing his green flight suit, blond hair perfectly combed back, wire glasses slightly askew. He had a bouquet of pink roses in his hands and a brilliant white smile when he spotted you.

“Hi.” His voice wobbled a bit as you approached.

“Hi back,” you said quietly. “I hope those are for me,” you said, gesturing to the flowers, “because you really need to stop showing up with emergencies, Bob Floyd.”

He laughed, a throaty sound that eclipsed all other laughs in your memory. Now, anytime you ever thought of a laugh it would be like what Bob Floyd sounded like on a random Thursday evening. “Well it is the ER. Besides, how else would I be able to see you?”

“You'd see me if you ever asked me on a date.”

Bob flushed. “Well, that’s why I’m here.”

“Oh yeah?”

He nodded, thrusting the flowers out to you. “I, um, I wanted to ask you out the first time we met. But that didn’t really turn out like I planned. Practically fainting in front of you wasn’t what I had in mind.”

You smelled the flowers. They were clean and crisp and you couldn’t remember the last time a man bought you flowers, let alone went out of his way to see you. You stepped closer. “It was kind of charming,” you admitted.

Bob laughed again, that sweet chuckle that was quickly imprinting itself in your mind. “I’ll take it. So what do you say, will you go on a date with me?”

“I don’t know, what can beat stale coffee in a doctor’s break room?”

“What if I cook you dinner?” Bob offered and your eyebrows shot up. “What’s your favorite dish?”

“Eggplant parmesan,” you said automatically. It tumbled out of your mouth.

“Done.”

“So you can cook?”

“No,” he said and you laughed. “But I can Google it.”

“You’d go to all that trouble just for me?”

Bob stepped in closer, reaching out one hand, tucking a chunk of hair behind your ear. His touch was warm and it practically electrocuted you with the fervor that started to course through your veins as his skin brushed against yours. Bob let his hand linger on the side of your neck, cupping you gently. “It’s no trouble,” he murmured. “Besides, Andie keeps asking about the pretty nurse who gave her the penguin doll.”

You grinned. “Did she like it?”

“She sleeps with it every night. But apparently, Mr. Penguin has requested that you come by the house to read him a bedtime story. So what do you say? Dinner and a book reading?” he asked.

You locked eyes with Bob, nodding. “Is it weird to say I’m glad you got a hook in your foot and ended up in my ER?”

Bob chuckled. “Is it weird to say I’d do it again every day if it meant I got to see you?”

“Honey,” you whispered. “No need to stab your foot again. I’ll be at dinner any night of the week. Just say the word.”

He held out one hand. You slipped your fingers into his. It was enough. It was more than enough.

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astrojulia · 1 year

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Tarot Cards as Professions

Navigation: Masterlist✦Ask Rules✦Feedback Tips

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Major Arcanas:

The Fool: Work with abroad, connections with imports, language teacher, multinationals, entrepreneur, intern, college student, art major.

The Magician: Entrepreneur, job that needs skill with the hands (acupuncture, hairdresser, artisan), actor, salesperson, influencer.

The High Priestess: Education, especially children, nutrition, psychology, cook, housewife, food engineering, toy factory, fortuneteller, spiritual advisor, librarian.

The Empress: Management, business administration, foreign trade, secretariat, translation, decoration, stay-at-home mom, model, cook, farmer.

The Emperor: Business administration, work related to areas of technological innovation, the military or sportsmen, CEO, tycoon.

The Hierophant: Philanthropic areas, ONGs, religious work, social work, diplomacy, and a degree, journalism, writer, editor, priest, spiritual guru, politician.

The Lovers: Sales area in any sector, tourism, theater, advertising, the arts in general, porn star, stripper, masseuse.

The Chariot: Activities related to transport, cars, the latest technology, chauffeur, mechanic, athlete.

Strength: Aesthetics, physical education and various body therapies, medicine, zoologist.

The Hermit: Teacher, writer, doctor, antique dealer, restorer, librarian, gardener.

Wheel of Fortune: Financial market, exchange offices, casinos, lottery houses, stock exchanges, and areas related to public relations, hospitality, game show host.

Justice: Public jobs, won through competitions, politics, police, with government positions, in the diplomatic area, law, insurance company worker.

The Hanged Man: Nurse, auditor, inspector, porter, secretariat, general assistants, yoga instructor, prison guard, philanthropist.

Death: Doctor, farmer, geologist, business administrator, gardener, accountant, assassin, death row executioner, surgeon.

Temperance: Working with liquids in general or with what is transported in liquid form such as alcoholic beverages, medicines, juices. chemist, chef, food critic, regional or even international traffic.

The Devil: Does not limit the individual to a professional wing, so he can also go to extremes for the desire he has, such as landlord, drug lord, sex trafficker.

The Tower: Social assistance, humanitarian aid, medicine, firefighter, police officer, construction worker.

The Star: Music, painting, sculpture, poetry, cinema, makeup artist, dressmaker, beautician, agent, promoter, sound artist, astronomer, harpist, dealer, meteorologist.

The Moon: Oceanographers, sailors, fishermen, owners of bars and restaurants or nightclubs, artists in general, medium, hypnotist, psychiatrist.

The Sun: Motivational speaker, entertainer, comedian, social relationships, work with the public, artist in general, member of society.

Judgment: Work done at home, connection with the law, lawyer, judge, work with disabled or people excluded from society, social assistance, board member, executive producer, director.

The World: Pharmacist, massage therapist, scientist, teacher, community leader, religious leader or priest, fashion designer, makeup artist, interior decorator.

Wands:

Creative industries such as advertising, marketing, and graphic design.

Entrepreneurship and starting your own business.

Athletics, sports coaching, or physical training.

Outdoor jobs like park ranger or tour guide.

Event planning or organizing.

Firefighters or rescue workers.

Ace of Wands: Entrepreneur, startup founder, motivational speaker, fitness coach, personal trainer.

Two of Wands: Business strategist, project manager, travel agent, international consultant, import/export specialist.

Three of Wands: Sales representative, marketing manager, e-commerce entrepreneur, market researcher, international trade coordinator.

Four of Wands: Event planner, wedding coordinator, party organizer, festival manager, hospitality industry professional.

Five of Wands: Conflict resolution specialist, mediator, lawyer, debate coach, competitive sports coach.

Six of Wands: Public relations manager, spokesperson, social media influencer, motivational speaker, winning athlete.

Seven of Wands: Defense attorney, human rights activist, political campaigner, advocate, civil liberties lawyer.

Eight of Wands: Courier, delivery driver, airline pilot, travel blogger, expedition guide.

Nine of Wands: Security guard, bodyguard, soldier, endurance athlete, self-defense instructor.

Ten of Wands: Overworked entrepreneur, project manager, event organizer, professional organizer, heavy equipment operator.

Page of Wands: Assistant in a creative field, aspiring artist, intern in a startup, social media coordinator, apprentice.

Knight of Wands: Travel journalist, adventure tour guide, professional athlete, race car driver, stunt performer.

Queen of Wands: CEO, business owner, charismatic leader, life coach, influential speaker.

King of Wands: Executive manager, entrepreneur, leadership coach, consultant, director of a creative agency.

Cups:

Counseling, therapy, or social work.

Hospitality industry, including restaurant management and bartending.

Wedding planner or event coordinator.

Artistic fields like poetry, writing, or acting.

Healing professions such as nursing or holistic therapy.

Psychologist or counselor specializing in emotions and relationships.

Ace of Cups: Therapist, counselor, social worker, holistic healer, emotional support specialist.

Two of Cups: Marriage counselor, matchmaker, relationship coach, wedding planner, love psychic.

Three of Cups: Event organizer, party planner, celebratory event coordinator, community organizer.

Four of Cups: Meditation teacher, mindfulness coach, spiritual counselor, psychologist, therapist.

Five of Cups: Grief counselor, trauma therapist, hospice worker, emotional healing practitioner, bereavement support.

Six of Cups: Child psychologist, teacher, daycare worker, children's book author, pediatric nurse.

Seven of Cups: Creative writer, fantasy novelist, imaginative artist, dream analyst, visionary.

Eight of Cups: Travel blogger, adventure seeker, spiritual pilgrim, explorer, wanderlust photographer.

Nine of Cups: Life coach, happiness consultant, gratitude coach, self-help author, wellness retreat organizer.

Ten of Cups: Family therapist, marriage and family counselor, foster care advocate, wedding planner, family mediator.

Page of Cups: Creative writer, artist in training, intuitive healer, aspiring therapist, dream interpreter.

Knight of Cups: Actor, romantic poet, musician, art therapist, love and relationship coach.

Queen of Cups: Psychic reader, intuitive healer, counselor, compassionate caregiver, therapist.

King of Cups: Therapist, counselor, intuitive mentor, emotional intelligence trainer, psychologist.

Swords:

Legal professions like lawyers, judges, or law enforcement officers.

Journalists, reporters, or investigators.

IT specialists, computer programmers, or hackers.

Teachers or professors specializing in critical thinking or philosophy.

Military or defense-related careers.

Strategic planners or analysts.

Ace of Swords: Lawyer, judge, legal consultant, investigative journalist, strategic planner.

Two of Swords: Mediator, conflict resolution specialist, negotiator, diplomat, relationship counselor.

Three of Swords: Divorce lawyer, grief counselor, trauma therapist, emotional healer, heart surgeon.

Four of Swords: Rest and relaxation specialist, meditation teacher, spiritual retreat organizer, yoga instructor.

Five of Swords: Military strategist, competitive sports coach, lawyer specializing in litigation, debate coach.

Six of Swords: Travel agent, relocation consultant, therapist specializing in transitions, boat captain.

Seven of Swords: Private investigator, spy, intelligence analyst, cybersecurity expert, undercover agent.

Eight of Swords: Social justice lawyer, human rights advocate, disability rights activist, therapist specializing in limiting beliefs.

Nine of Swords: Insomnia specialist, anxiety therapist, nightmare counselor, sleep coach, mental health counselor.

Ten of Swords: Surgeon, coroner, forensic scientist, mortician, grief counselor.

Page of Swords: Researcher, journalist, fact-checker, apprentice in a legal field, investigative reporter.

Knight of Swords: Military officer, police officer, attorney, competitive fencer, conflict resolution specialist.

Queen of Swords: Judge, lawyer, critic, journalist, literary agent.

King of Swords: Judge, attorney, CEO, strategist, military general.

Pentacles:

Financial advisors or investment bankers.

Real estate agents or property developers.

Agriculture, farming, or gardening.

Architects, builders, or construction workers.

Conservationists or environmentalists.

Accountants or bookkeepers.

Ace of Pentacles: Financial advisor, investment banker, wealth manager, entrepreneur, luxury goods retailer.

Two of Pentacles: Financial analyst, accountant, bookkeeper, event planner, stock trader.

Three of Pentacles: Architect, contractor, project manager, teamwork facilitator, craftsman.

Four of Pentacles: Wealth manager, investor, financial planner, asset protection specialist, treasurer.

Five of Pentacles: Social worker, philanthropist, charity organizer, financial counselor, volunteer.

Six of Pentacles: Philanthropist, humanitarian worker, non-profit manager, social worker, charitable fundraiser.

Seven of Pentacles: Gardener, farmer, agricultural consultant, sustainability expert, botanist.

Eight of Pentacles: Craftsperson, artisan, apprentice, skilled tradesperson, technical trainer.

Nine of Pentacles: Luxury brand manager, independent business owner, successful entrepreneur, vineyard owner, art collector.

Ten of Pentacles: Real estate developer, property investor, family business owner, generational wealth manager, financial advisor.

Page of Pentacles: Intern, student, apprentice in a practical field, aspiring entrepreneur, entry-level employee.

Knight of Pentacles: Accountant, financial planner, farmer, skilled tradesperson, meticulous worker.

Queen of Pentacles: CEO, business owner, property developer, hospitality industry entrepreneur, financial advisor.

King of Pentacles: CEO, business mogul, successful investor, high-level executive, financial consultant.

(CC) AstroJulia Some Rights Reserved

#tarot #tarot tips #tarot meanings #divination #cards #witch #witchcraft #witchblr #astroblr #career #astrojulia #all about tarot #tarot witch #major arcana #minor arcana #tarot and career

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nectardaddy · 4 months

Text

dirty dancing - higuruma hiromi

cw: MDNI, highly (and I mean highly) suggestive, talk of sex, teasing/suggestive banter, dirty dancing, mild degradation [use of the word "whore" at reader], pet names [honey, baby], drinking, drunkenness, language, she/her (ma'am is used once), reader calls him an old man but there's not an age gap

notes: minors if you interact with this AT ALL you're getting blocked on sight, established relationship, written in the lens of him so it's a bit bitter, maybe a bit ooc? but he's drunk so I'll use that as an excuse, lmk if I missed any warnings

Higuruma much prefered bars over clubs, no longer a fan of the drunk antics that came along with the sleazy aesthetic. Being a bit older, and a bit wiser, he had sense enough to tell you no when you asked if he'd rather frequent a club.

But all it took for him to cave was a sickly sweet "please" and to gaze at him lovingly, batting your pretty eyes as you looked up at him. Finding himself eating his words once you dressed yourself in practically nothing, all for the sake of going out. Good god why did he say yes?

It took all but his very will to let you out of the house like that, better yet a venue where the whole point was to garner a few looks amongst the sea of people who danced. Thinking to himself, you'd get more than just a few, he'd have to all but cover you the entire night - he'd be damned if anyone dared to look you over.

He stayed at the bar majority of the night, allowing you to do god knows with friends you had met up with throughout. Nursing a whiskey and sighing like this was his last stand, he was a little too old to be occupying places like this. Sure, there were people well over his age patronizing the club; but this, truly, was not his forte anymore.

Cheeks already dusted pink, and his mind swimming gently, he rolled his eyes as he set his empty glass back on the bar. 'All for the sake of you having fun,' he thought. The music was too loud and shitty, at best, and those who sat next to him were sloshed and obnoxious. Why did he say yes?

Dark eyes met with your own as he watched you make your way towards him, laughing and stumbling as you were too drunk for your own good. Lights dancing off your skin, a ghost of a smile etched on his features. 'As long as you're having fun.'

But his eyes went wide as he felt your fingers grab at his tie and pull, seeing the playful glint in your eyes made him swallow hard. In that moment he realized you had every capability of completely breaking him. "Come on, old man," your speech slurred from the amount of alcohol you had. "You look pitiful just sitting there, I honestly feel bad for you."

"I'm a charity case now?" He questioned, all the while allowing you to pull him along. He was a wholeheartedly, down right, whipped bastard for you. Letting you pull him along, by his tie of all things, like a love struck puppy, through a sea of people.

"No," you reassured with a laugh. "You're my project." Voice loud from the music and people around, he felt his jaw tighten at your words. Hand still wrapped around the black fabric of the tie, you pulled down, forcing him to your level with a smirk. Dear god you were going to be the death of him. "I'm going to make you have fun," you mused. "You're going to dance with me - and you're going to love it."

He'd be lying if he said your words didn't scratch an itch in his brain, "yes ma'am." Letting just a touch of sarcasm grace his statement as it fell from his lips. He certainly knew dancing in a place like this was far from modest, borderline erotic as his eyes scanned his surroundings before returning to you. You were going to drive him mad, out right corrupt him where he stood.

While he knew it would be scandalous, this was point blank debauchery.

Slender fingers digging into the fabric covered skin of your hips as you, shamelessly, grinded against his crotch. His brain short circuited and his mouth went dry, he couldn't think a single coherent thought as your ass against his hips was all consuming. He could have sworn the last of his whiskey hit him right then and then, that was the only compelling reason, for him at least, to his actions.

"You're doing this on purpose," a sinful whisper in your ear, being so close he could feel every inch of you. The satisfying shudder your body felt from his words alone was enough to have him continue. "Honey, if you wanted to fuck, you could've just said that," he mused. "You didn't have to come out here to dance like a whore."

"Where's the fun in that, baby?" You asked rhetorically. Unfortunately for him, you turned, the delicious feeling completely ceased as you faced him. Looking into your eyes, the playful glint had turned - a warped desire taking its place as you gazed up at him. Hard pressed against him, the swarm of people around making the distance between practically non existent. He all but completely lost it.

"Tell your friends we're leaving," a quick statement, with a passionate force behind it that made you weak at the knees. Tired eyes now filled with lust and determination, you swore you felt your heart skip a beat. "If you want to dance like a whore, I'll treat you like one."

I haven't written anything this suggestive in a hot minute so I hope I tagged everything oof. Eat it up!

#dodger's 18+#tw suggestive #18+ mdni #mdni #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #higuruma hiromi #hiromi higuruma #hiromi higuruma x reader #higuruma hiromi x reader #jjk higuruma #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #higuruma x reader

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mr888sworld · 11 months

Text

The lunar moon through natal houses (1-12)

how do you process your emotions?/mental health & how our mother’s show up to us emotionally

The moon in astrology rules over our emotions/habits/the maternal energy around us

Our psychic abilities/our intuition

Our instincts/ mood

Our mother

Our shadow self/subconscious mind

Moon in the first house 🏠🧘🏾‍♂️

Your mother could be a pioneer/self-made 💰

Your mother could influence your appearance or you could look exactly like her

You could potentially change moods quickly (cardinal energy ♈️) be wary of angry outburst

You are a good judge of character

You can could read a room easily

You move on quickly

You are an optimist

Never hung up over anything for too long

Could potentially wear your heart on your sleeve

Motherly

There could be an heavy focus on your appearance

Good skin

Naturally nurturing

Strong values

Subconsciously you want to be appreciated for your efforts/drive

Strong emotions

Moon in the second house 🏠 💰

Your mother could have a major influence on your finances/resources

Strong emotions towards stability

Self made

Strong intuition involving money

Lucky individual

Could be born into wealth/or will gain wealth through a maternal figure

Slow to anger

Stubborn

Extremely hard worker 💰

Slow to emotionally change

Your mood could be in constant stabilization

Subconsciously you want to be stable & comfortable financially.

Love for cooking 🥘/or love for food

Extravagant

Appreciates the nice things in life

Extremely good at manifesting.

Moon in the third house 🏠 💭

Excellent communicator

Your mother could be well known in your short term community.

Your mother is very analytical/intelligent

You have a thirst for knowledge

Curious

Prone to mood swings (Gemini energy)

You Could be the motherly sibling

Most likely to have sisters

Great at researching

Can sense bullshit a mile away

Could see through people like glass

Logical individual

Wants to try everything

Gains emotional satisfaction through learning.

Needs stimulation

Excellent at multitasking

Prone to boredom

Needs constant change

Subconsciously you want to study & share everything you learn 🧠

Moon in the fourth house 🏠 🌊

Moon is in domicile in the 4th house (due to cancer ruling the moon) strong emotions

Your mother/family could have been very protective over you

You were smothered with love & affection

Passion for cooking 🍳

Very psychic

You could read a room like no other

You feel everything!/too much at times

Extremely sensitive

You could have an amazing relationship with your family

You are an empath

You have genuine love to give

You are very emotionally intelligent

Prone to mood swings as well (easier for you to control)

Very connected to the moon 🌙

The moon phases affect you the most ( similar to cancer moon)

Enjoys comfort

Homebody

Nurturing

Motherly

Your mother could be extremely emotional over you. You are a mommas boy or girl.

Crabby at times

Subconsciously you want to live comfortably & share your gifts/intuition with the ones you love

Moon in the fifth house 🏠 ⭐️

Your mother could be prideful/full of herself

Could potentially have a narcissistic mother

Your mother could be very creative

You are attracted to art

You want to be seen & validated for how you feel

Potential for fame/extremely creative

Could be a singer ⭐️

Has an eye for the aesthetics

Dramatic emotional outbursts

Very reactive

Could be stubborn

Could be selfish at times

Funny

Extremely Outgoing

You Have a Strong sense of character

Gain’s attention easily

Great at establishing friendships

Could potentially have children early

Extremely good with kids

Sexual

Subconsciously you want to be recognized for the achievements/accomplishments you make/have

Moon in the sixth house 🏠🏥

Your mother could be a huge influence on your health/routine.

Your mother could be a nurse/doctor

Great relationship with your pets

Green-thumb

Extremely attracted to nature

Could be judgmental

Very analytical

Could have excellent health

Prone to have OCD

Extremely good at organizing how you feel

Excellent communicator

Strict with your routine

Most likely got the covid shot 😂

You could be to Hard on yourself at times

Could be a gym rat

Hard-worker

Most likely the manager at work

Your mother/ siblings could be your co-workers

Subconsciously you just want routine & perfection

Moon in the seventh house 🏠 ⚖️

Your mother could have prioritized her relationships before you or the other way around

Prone to loving the idea of love.

Attracted to beauty

Your mother could have always been dating someone.

You could have married young

Could gain comfort & security through a partner

Craves people

Outgoing

Extremely sociable

Great at flirting

Could have an obsession with the law/balance

Horrible at making emotional decisions

Could be delusional at times

Very noble

Could be prone to cheating 😂

Indecisive

Prone to moodswings ( Libra energy)

Subconsciously you just want to love & be loved in return

Moon in the eighth house 🏠 🪦

Your mother could be obsessive/toxic or extremely transformative

Very emotional

Extremely psychic

Attracted to the occult

Misunderstood

You read energy like no other

Attracted to tarot/astrology/numerology

You crave intimacy/intensity

Could have a love/hate relationship with your mother

Could have a mother who invades your privacy/space

Extremely private

Great at reading into situations

Extremely emotionally transformative

Attracted to death/sex

Could be bi-sexual

Has an innate thirst for the truth

Loner

Mistrustful of others

Subconsciously you just want someone who you could share your soul/body & mind with authentically

Moon in the ninth house 🏠 🪐

Your mother could be extremely lucky/she could have traveled a lot

Needs innate change/freedom

Natural optimist

Does not get hung up over the small things

Extremely independent

Attracted to anything foreign

Loves to travel

Very truthful

Prone to being religious/spiritual

Lucky individual

You have a strong sense of faith like no other

Very attracted to spirituality

Funny

Outgoing

Great at establishing friendships

Has a larger than life personality

Prone to escapism

No boundaries at times emotionally

Subconsciously you want freedom to explore the unknown.

Moon in the tenth house 🏠 🦾

Mother could be a boss/extremely hardworking

Could gain status or fame through a mother figure

Your mother has a respectable reputation

Strong sense of practicality

Very logical

Cold at times

Very smart

You always have a way to make income

Strong desire for success

Attracted to business people

Accomplishing your goals solidifies your emotional satisfaction

Prone to depression at times

Strong desire for recognition

Potential for fame

Well-known mother figure

Well-informed

Well respected individual

Subconsciously you just want to become successful with a respectable reputation

Moon in the eleventh house 🏠🕹️

Mother could have been very social/or attended social activities/events/groups commonly

Your mother could be very analytical as well

You are an amazing friend

Craves connection

Thrives in social settings

Very independent

Extremely quirky

Rebellious emotionally

Loner at times

Unpredictable emotionally

Could potentially be emotionally unstable/unavailable

Attracted to anything taboo

Mother could be a humanitarian

Mother could have been emotionally unavailable

Stubborn

Great at manifesting

Subconsciously you want to help humanity on a global scale

Moon in the twelfth house 🏠🕉️

Mother could suffer from mental illness/or she could be locked up in an institution/or you could have a very spiritual relationship with your mother

Naturally psychic !

You absorb emotions like a sponge

Your the generational curse breaker

Attracted to the afterlife

Your dreams reveal the future

Can be delusional at times

Your mother could be attracted to the taboo

You could be into tarot/meditation

Your karma’s child

Prone to astral projection.

Strong empath

Extremely caring

Extremely emotionally

Prone to escapism

Could have spiritual siblings

Could become a successful astrologer

Attracted to art

Strong ability to produce your manifestations

Most likely into spell work

Subconsciously you want a spiritual/out of the box life experience

That’s all folks 🙏🏾 hope you enjoyed your moon being dissected . Lmk if you feel like this resonates with you. & if not lmk too.

Thank you guys for the follows/likes & reblogs I never thought my work would be so appreciated

I appreciate it 🙏🏾. I am in no way a professional astrologer.

#astrology #astro observations #spirituality #esoteric #astro notes #birth chart #sagittarius #leo ♌️#horoscope today #astro community

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viridianv0id · 28 days

Text

Oc lore post!!!

alright. this may be longer than the Sebastian post but ! i have a lot to say about this guy so here we go !!

This is Dr. Cameron Mallard (Often referred to as just Mallard)

Pronouns are It/its (sometimes He/him but. thats if i forgor/for lore reasons)

Lore dump, will be under the cut as per usual, as well as additional images!

Pre-game information

Mallard was in med school studying to become a nurse, he wasn't too far into the start of his course when he suddenly had a warrant out for his arrest. Turns out there was a doctor with the same last name going around and getting people killed with improper diagnosis/treatment.

Unfortunately, Mallard wasn't able to prove his innocence and was sent to prison and eventually was swooped up by UrbanShade with promises of freedom and a clear record. which, of course knowing UrbanShade. never happened.

Mallard was subjected to very not fun testing, an idea UrbanShade having about avoiding missing limb incidents was to make it so those affected could just grow back their limbs, and while there was a few options for what DNA to take from, it was decided that an Axolotl was the best option, mostly for the underwater nature of the Hadal BlackSite.

Of course, these tests never come without some pain, and once UrbanShade knew Mallard's body had accepted the DNA and was producing it, they needed to see if it worked.

So, they started with seeing if it was possible to reattach missing limbs, starting with two procedures.

His Right hand, and left leg.

They started small, removing his right hand, of course leaving it be for some time to simulate an actual amputation, before they eventually reattached his hand, the results? It worked! However; The hand that had been removed was weaker, with delicate nerves and blood vessels being cut it was near impossible to reattach all of them, so it left his hand weaker, paler and unable to function to its full potential.

Even with this minor setback, UrbanShade had learned a lot and proceeded with the same thing on his left leg and while results were similar, they were improving. His leg being stronger than his hand by comparison but still not back to how it had been previously.

They then let Mallard have time to heal, not a long healing period since they also decided to continue letting him Study though now he was studying to become a doctor instead of a nurse, UrbanShade figuring how durable he was now would make dealing with certain Z-class way easier if they could just stitch him back together and be good as new

once he had healed from those two procedures, they continued, upping the levels of DNA than they had originally given him to see if more of this DNA would help the healing process go faster

The next procedures would get more ambitious;

they removed a majority of his left arm, and opened him up, seeing if organs could be more easily replaced.

He was given several Organ transplants, none of which he actually needed, but due to everything his body accepted these new organs. A win for UrbanShade.

once his arm was also reattached some adverse side effects began to show, now that he had so much Axolotl DNA in him he was starting to develop gills and a tail, awesome! now he can be used for work underwater as well, so UrbanShade cultivated this and allowed for the changes to happen

they may have done a few more procedures on him for aesthetic reasons too, his original colourations were just black but he was eventually made into a Chimera Axolotl instead. for the silly. Literally that was only done for the aesthetics.

The very last procedure they conducted was probably the worse by far, they wanted to see just how far they could push the limits of Mallards body and newfound healing abilities.

So, off with his head.

I'll spare you the Gorey details, this was mostly done to see if it was even possible. and it was.

This however, affected his eyes the most, as like the rest of anything removed from him blood supply was low, and while they were able to make sure his brain suffered no harm, hes a doctor in training after all, his face suffered the short end of the stick

Luckily his eyesight remained, however the ability to make complex facial expressions or move his eyes around in any meaningful way was heavily affected, giving him a constant blank expression (or resting bitch face, depending on who you ask) this procedure ended Mallard up with the nickname "The Chimera" and the Z-Classification of Z-50

And as for the scar around Mallards neck.. He doesn't want to talk about it.

And while things are mostly healed up now, if agitated enough some of the stitching along each of his dismemberment's will bleed a little, not enough to be concerning but enough to look kinda morbid.

Everything had taken a toll on Mallard. He didn't feel like the same man that had come to this place with hope of finally having the truth spread.

It was a lab rat. a mere toy for UrbanShade to play with. It was nothing like it had used to be.

It didn't feel like a person anymore.

Current day

After the containment breach and lock down of Blacksite, the evacuations didn't seem to have any plans for Mallard, while he hadn't been a practicing doctor for very long his Z-Class status was enough for UrbanShade to leave the poor man behind, abandoning it before it even knew what was happening to the place.

It ended up having to break through the glass of its containment cell, ending up wandering the halls of Heavy Containment for a while before it found its way towards some of the earlier doors, which didn't end up well as it then discovered that not every Navi-AI marked door was exactly the correct one, and after one unpleasant meeting with The Mask of Sadness (Good People / Z-96) its right leg was injured pretty badly, and while it healed up relatively well the scar is a nasty one that occasionally still brings it pain.

It can now usually be found just before the Oxygen Gardens, its hideout only labeled by a broken Navi-Path screen. it more often than not avoids most folks, its trust in anyone working for UrbanShade right down the drain.

More recently, it had another unfortunate experience with The Mask of Sadness, getting another pretty bad wound on its side this time, though nowhere near as bad as the one on its leg.

Art breakdown / TLDR

okay, so i know that was a lot of words but i needed to write it all down, so, if you want the short version on some of the facts about Mallard here's a quick little thing about it as well as another one of my little art note pieces

going from top to bottom.

Different colours: Its gills and tail are split between two colours, Black and Pink. This was an aesthetic change made my UrbanShade scientists. This little part has dubbed mallard as "The Chimera"

Axolotl Gills + Tail: This was a side effect cultivated by UrbanShade, as the ability for it to breathe and move underwater would help it work with certain Z-Class that needed to be constantly submerged, as well as aiding any personnel who may have gotten injured under water.

Discouloured skin: The skin on certain parts of Mallard are from procedures done to test its ability to accept removed body parts to see if UrbanShade could cut down on the amount of amputations needed. These parts of Mallard are weaker and dont have as much feeling in them as any normal part of its body

Stitches: These stitches have stayed in mallard long after parts were reattached, as occasionally under stress some of the old wounds may re-open and bleed. Mallard maintains the stitches and changes them regularly.

Scar: The scar on its right leg was obtained from The Mask of Sadness in an unfortunate encounter just after the Lock down had happened. This wound is for the most part healed but It deals with a lot of chronic pain from the severity.

Extra art

this is just a small collection of extra art pieces that ive made !

#roblox pressure #pressure oc #long post #sorry for how rambly it is i really needed to get this whole thing into writing #enjoy !#🩷🖤#blood #ask to tag

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perseephoneee · 4 months

Text

g's graduation celebration!

જ⁀➴ I'm graduating college in a week! I will brag for a second because I'm genuinely so proud of how far I've come as a student and individual. I started university very insecure with no discernable path in life. I am ending it with an honors degree, dean's list all four years, and acceptance into Columbia Journalism School for their book publishing program. I did this while being a student journalist and a band member. I'm genuinely so excited, and to celebrate, I wanted to do a little event for you guys!!

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ends june 8

ᯓᡣ𐭩 majors

[ sociology ] my major!

you can ask me one of these questions (or multiple!)

[ acting ] my minor

i'll make you a moodboard based off an aesthetic, character, song, etc. just tell me what you want

[ environmental science ]

i'll draw you a flower (either you choose or i choose)

[ computer engineering ]

give me a tv show/movie/book and i'll cast my mutuals

[ business ]

give me a character and a situation and I'll write headcanons about them!

[ nursing ]

you will be granted a random memory that happened to me while in undergraduate

[ mathematics ] mutuals only!

you can request anything of me. a fic, headcanons, a ship, a boop, whatever you want. this is for being there when i was losing my marbles.

tagging mutals :) @moonlightt444 @mayfieldss @hiya-itsamber @timelessfandom @pgs-stuff @hoezier-than-thou @fitzs-trained-monkey @lovelybarnes @dorkofclanlavellan @ficmesideways @wholoveseggs @ladysweetiepeach @pursuedbyamemoryy @valesyn @foxherder @natti-ice @gilverr @cozywithmicki @witchthewriter @ondina-granger @kingsheim @moremaybank @socio-kai-path1972 @gallifreyan-cat @cardigin

#events #graduation #class of 2024 #graduation event #my writing

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nurse-floyd · 6 months

Text

Requests OPEN!

Just a girl who's in love with all things F1 - the drivers, the cars and the science and medicine behind it. Dagger Squad, Rhett Abbott and Lewis Pullman trash.

If you like my work, please consider buying me a coffee?

Masterlist

F1 Medicine

Please read the following before sending in a request.

I write injured/ hurt/ comfort/ fluff kind of things - fits in with and combines my love of nursing and whump!

I create moodboards and aesthetics for any fandom/ story.

If you have anything you want to see written send me a prompt and little description of what you'd want to see.

I do work so requests will likely be slow.

Prompts I won’t take requests for: Major Character Death, Rape/ Non-Con/ sexual assault and smut currently.

I write for the following -

Formula 1 - Max Verstappen, Carlos Sainz, Charles Leclerc, Lando Norris, Danny Ricciardo, Fernando Alonso, Nico Hulkenberg, Logan Seargant.

Indy Car - Pato O’Ward

TGM - Bob Floyd, Bradley Bradshaw, Jake Seresin and Natasha Trace.

Outer Range - Rhett Abbott

Prompts can be found under the tags #writing prompts or you can send your own.

#f1 #formula one #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #lando norris #lando norris x reader #f1 driver imagine #f1 driver imagines

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tgrailwar-zero · 6 months

Note

hey izou, this is a longshot, the longest shot of all longshots but, your summoning seems more stable so...do you have any weird dreams? dreams about fighting a caster and his shades in a church? or brawling with a rider who had no confidence? scolding a master for even thinking about alliances with rider in the middle of a war? fighting saber in the street at night? losing at gambling, coming home late, and nursing a horrible hangover? almost choking on bubble tea? killing a golden berserker in his own home? being trapped by a witch in a school with that rider we formed an alliance with? talking on the roof of a bar at night under the full moon?

He was quiet for a moment-- much longer than you'd expect for a yes or no question. Slightly, almost imperceptibly, his eyes narrowed- before he responded with a casual huff.

IZOU: "Servants can't dream. Anyways, we should get going."

DURYODHANA: "I see, well, that's a shame. I suppose the next time we meet, we'll be rivals. If you can impress the Boss, that is. Otherwise, have fun in the minor leagues."

KOMA: "...Koma should get going as well. Master Rikyu will be upset if I lose any more money at this gambling parlor. May we meet again."

With that, you, IZOU, and MUSASHI stepped outside, with NERO taking the Room Key to head back upstairs on her own. The cool, salty sea breeze chilled the air. Night had fallen quicker than you expected, though it wasn't too deep in the night to worry about shops closing- if they ever did close.

IZOU: "I'll get you signed up first. Then we'll take a walk around. We might be able to catch the person I'm lookin' for before she leaves for the night. Boss is hard to impress, but she's got a real eye for battle talent."

He walked you to what seemed like a large, arena-like building, leading you inside. It was quiet, astoundingly so as he looked around. He seemed frustrated, as you gathered the feeling that whoever he was looking to talk to wasn't here anymore before he suddenly exclaimed.

IZOU: "Ah-- caught her!"

He pointed at a woman leaving out one of the doors, jogging over.

IZOU: "Yo, Boss. Found some new blood!"

Turning to look at the 'Boss' in question--

That was JAGUAR MAN.

Sure, the aesthetic was different, but… that was her. You watched as she furrowed her brow, looking between you, MUSASHI, and IZOU.

MUSASHI: "Oh, hey! Long time, no see!"

JAGUAR MAN: "Tch. Well, ain't we friendly, Miss Fancy Pants?"

MUSASHI: "Uh, what?"

JAGUAR MAN: "It's late, Man-Kisser. This little kitty was on her way back home, not trying to fill out paperwork."

IZOU: "Man-Slayer, and I know, I know, but--"

JAGUAR MAN: "--Kissin' men, slayin' men, who cares? In this day and age they mean the same thing. You couldn't do this tomorrow morning like anyone else who felt like cutting it close? We already had one more late arrival, I don't wanna make this a habit."

IZOU: "C'mon, I'll owe ya' one. Promise. Just give 'em a look-over. I wouldn't just bring ya' some punk off the street."

There was a long moment of silence as JAGUAR MAN slowly paced around you three, looking up and down.

JAGUAR MAN: "Hm… well, just from looks alone, they seem like 'A+' competitors…"

She paused, before suddenly yelling--

JAGUAR MAN: "Meaning AMATEUR PLUS!"

JAGUAR MAN: "…"

JAGUAR MAN: "As in SLIGHTLY BETTER THAN AMATEURS!"

JAGUAR MAN: "..."

JAGUAR MAN: "As in--"

MUSASHI: "YEAH. WE GOT IT."

IZOU: "C'mon, Boss! Saber's good, I promise. She can handle the big leagues."

She tapped her naginata on the ground, pursing her lips as if she was in deep, intensive thought, red eyes boring into you and your Servant. She sighed, clicking her tongue.

JAGUAR MAN: "So, normally I'd toss you in the minor bracket, where you can just mess around with the would-be's and has-been's for a smaller pot… But, we've got an open spot in the major bracket. One of the fighters called in sick last-minute, caught a virus. But I'm not just giving it out to just anyone, I need the competitor to be someone that can fill seats. Someone with a story that'll capture the hearts and minds of viewers! We need ticket sales and thrilling fights, got it?"

She locked eyes with you.

JAGUAR MAN: "You're Miss Dual-Wielder's manager, right? Give me a backstory that'll sell seats, and I'll consider giving you this open spot in the main bracket with the big-leaguers. As long as you can afford the 400 PPT entrance fee."

MUSASHI: "I don't totally get what's going on, but... just tell her something she likes so we can get to the fighting part?"

#thgw story #thgw: chapter 6 #main post

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slavetotheshine · 1 year

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The Shiny Collection

Back in the days of Tumblr yore, there used to be a great collector. The various blogs featured rubber nuns, latex nurses, shiny maids, glossy bimbos and loads more. After they disappeared, I reached out to the collector via a common friend and as they had no intent on starting fresh I decided to pick up the mantle.

I have started light with a few (heh..) blogs that seemed to be natural categories to me. Here goes!

(The collection is in the "Keep Reading" section)

Slave To The Shine

I'm addicted to the gloss of latex. It has enthralled me for more than half my life, and I can't help myself. This is my core collection, all the great shots that don't immediately fall into one of my other categories.

BossyShine

Shiny ladies who are used to being in charge! For those that want to serve or simply seek a second in command, proper attire is shown!

CelebrityShine

Some people want to be shiny and famous. If the shiny bit is properly done, I'll swoop in like a magpie and gather it!

CorsetShine

Just a little nip at the waist… Here you'll find everything from small waist cinchers to heavy posture collars.

CostumeShine

Shiny Cosplay and Uniforms, be it movies, anime, video games, fairytales or simple tropes such as stewardess, cheerleader or military pinups.

CurvyShine

A collection of images featuring more generous curves than the standard fashion fare.

DomesticShine

Maids, matrons, domestic goddesses, house slaves, household objects and furniture, all in one great big bundle of homemaking fun!

EbonyShine

When hurtling through the rubberclad parts of Tumblrscape, an overwhelming majority of the models are white. I find that unfair, everyone looks good in the stuff! I decided to gather the wonderful shots of women of color I stumble upon, so more people can be part of the fun!

FeminineShine

Girly girls, anything pink, those that go for the bimbo aesthetic or those that simply look remarkably feminine in the moment. An homage to the mightly but lost glossybimbos, though with a bit more range.

HeavyDutyShine

Shiny stuff with a bit more heft, coverage, layers or severity. This is stuff for the serious players!

Medicalshine

Shiny nurses, rubber doctors and other fetish takes on the medical profession. Enjoy this collection of those that wish you well, as well as those who might want to drag it out just a little bit more!

MilfyShine

No need to go full frump just because TikTok wasn't a thing when you were in your teens!

PetPlayShine

While ponygirls are a clear favourite of mine, you'll also find puppies, kittens and the odd mermaid. If it's shiny pet-play and I like it, this is where I'll stash it.

PublicShine

Stop hiding the good stuff behind closed doors, get out and about like these ladies!

RestrainedShine

From heavy rubber bondage to latex-clad lovelies who are just a little bit tied up at the moment…

SmokyShine

Rubber and smoke, not nicotine gum! This combines two of my kinks into one superkink, but finding good new content is a bit of a struggle. Please let me know when you spot something!

StylishShine

This is where the lines between fetish and fashion get blurred, but when it's mostly on the fashion side of things I try to use this collection as the destination.

UnholyShine

A rubber nun's habit, a shiny hijab, occult outfits, any shiny stuff with spiritual connotations really.

VehicleShine

Girls and cars, it's such a classic combination. I've expanded the selection to anything that moves, but the clothing has to be as glossy as the paint!

SteelyShine

The only collection not focused on latex, these images are all Metal AF! Here you'll find anything steel or iron, from heavy bondage implements to collars that are more a fashion statement than fetish.

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itsaash · 11 months

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Pumpkin Spice

@noots-fic-fests thank you for including this prompt so I can take something that happened in my life and turn it into something decidedly better, ha. Enjoy some fluffy, domestic Jily! And I believe sweater weather Harry was born in March? So he'd be 8 months old the next October

Lily had just wanted to make something nice. Sure, sure, the days are long but the years are short. But when you’re in the thick of having a 8 month old people could just fuck right off with that advice. Because the never ending loop of naptime, nursing, introducing solid food, play time, diaper change, and repeat made some days interminably long. And James was an amazing partner and an even better dad, but the season had started up again, and Lily was not in the groove of solo parenting. She was skidding on one wheel on the edge of the groove threatening to fall over at any moment.

When she was nursing Harry, cuddling his warm body close, she’d sometimes scroll on her phone and cooking videos were some of her favourites. She’d be lulled by the perfectly aesthetic backdrops and clean kitchens. The process of turning a group of ingredients into something new and amazing. Her feed knew her well and alternated between plans and ideas for baby food, and delicious looking snacks and drinks. Being October, pumpkin everything saturated the videos. Bread, muffins, cookies, stew, coffees, all featuring pumpkin. She didn’t have much time or energy for more time in the kitchen after the essentials of baby food and basic meals. But maybe a pumpkin spice syrup was achievable?

So after forgetting to get canned pumpkin at the next two grocery store runs, Lily finally remembered and was excited to make something for herself. Harry went down for his afternoon nap, and after stepping carefully to sneak out of his room she went into the kitchen to make the syrup. The can opener, pumpkin, vanilla, and spices were lined up on the counter, and she measured the sugar into the water for a double batch. She stirred the sugar in with her little purple whisk and watched it dissolve. She checked the recipe again, ok, it needed to reduce for a while. She turned down the heat and went to the bathroom.

Then went to move the laundry into the dryer. Shit, that was a pile of clean laundry. The clothes got put away, and she tracked down the new box of trash bags for the garbage in the laundry room that she had emptied the lint trap into. May as well take out the other bathroom garbages while she was at it. Weird, this bathroom smelled bad. She looked around, had a diaper fallen behind the trash can or something? There wasn’t an obvious culprit so Lily finished emptying the bins and brought them all downstairs to the main garbage in the kitchen.

The kitchen was a haze of smoke.

“What in the ever loving pumpkin fuck of goddamn stupid pumpkin fucking shit…”

A string of incomprehensible curses continued as Lily dropped the trash bags and raced to the stove to turn off the burner. The water had long since evaporated and the sugar was beyond burned with her cute little whisk melted sadly to the side of the smoking pot. The smell hit her senses like a freight train as she put on an oven mitt and carried the pot outside and left it on the porch, slamming the door just a bit on the way back in. She turned the hood fan all the way up and went around opening every window she could get her hands on. Thank god it wasn’t too cold outside yet.

Lily hardly knew if she should laugh or cry. It smelled truly awful. How had she not realized that smell was a burning smell? How could she have forgotten this one thing she had wanted to do for herself so quickly? And how had the stupid fucking smoke detector not gone off?? Although now in hindsight, with no major harm done, and the smoke already dissipating, she supposed she was glad to not have a baby awoken from a nap by screeching added to this situation. She walked away from the blaring sound of the hood fan and sunk to the floor under an open window on the other side of the house. Which is where she was when James got home.

“Hey Lils love! I’m home — oh shit wow you’re right there! You scared me,” James said. He came in the door and was startled when he turned to take his shoes off and saw Lily sitting there. He set down his bag and walked over to her and slid his back down the wall. “Why are we sitting on the floor?” he asked softly, nudging her with his shoulder.

Lily waved her hand vaguely at the house, cheek resting on her bent up knees. “I ruined our house with this awful fucking smell. Can’t you smell it?”

“Well, yeah, but you don’t seem to be panicking, so I figured it’s not an emergency.” He scooched even closer and wrapped his arm around her shoulders and Lily turned to tuck her face into the warmth of his shoulder. “Want to tell me what happened? You ok?”

Lily wasn’t crying, but her voice was thick and she was just so tired.

“I just wanted to make pumpkin spice syrup. But then I got distracted and immediately forgot about it and it’s such a stupid thing to have done and now it smells so bad.” Her breath hitched at the end and she heaved a breath in. “And my little whisk and the pot are totally ruined.”

James just tightened his grip on her shoulders and hugged her close, let her breathe and be still and cry.

“It doesn’t smell that bad,” he said, finally.

“Fuck off, yes it does.”

“Ok, yeah it does.” He took in a theatrical sniff and winced. “That’s what burned sugar smells like? It’s nuclear level.”

“It was even worse 20 minutes ago,” Lily muttered.

“Want to go cuddle on the furthest couch from the kitchen until Harry wakes up?”

Lily laughed but nodded, and then moved to the couch in the theater room, which was quite separate from the rest of the house and had a baby monitor in it. James laid on the couch and Lily cuddled into his side, making herself small. James ran his fingers through her hair over and over.

“You know it’s ok, right Lils? You’re fine, Harry’s fine, the house is fine. It’s ok.”

Lily hummed noncommittally.

“Ok, but can you tell Loops about it? So that I can tell Sirius how bad sugar can smell? Because, honestly, who would’ve thought.”

James smiled to himself when Lily let out a real laugh and reached for her phone. She texted him, a smile quirking on her face.

my house smells like sugar. And not the good kind like in cookies. Like the awful burned kind and it’s truly terrible.

I also need to test my smoke alarms.

These two things may be related.

Not one minute later her phone was ringing. James laughed and kept running his fingers through her hair as she talked to Remus. She told him the story, after reassuring him they were all fine, and her voice lost some of its tightness as they joked over the lengths they’d go to for a PSL and Remus threatening to come smell it for himself while the smell was “fresh”. She, laughing, said fuck off and good bye, hung up and turned to cuddle into James chest even closer. He smelled like the soap from the rink and like himself and when she breathed in deeply she didn’t smell the sugar at all.

“I’m sorry I made our house smell terrible.”

“I literally don’t care, Lils. I’m just sorry it didn’t work out how you wanted it to.”

She let his breathing soothe her as his chest rose up and down under her cheek.

“You can close your eyes if you want, flower. I’ll get Harry when he wakes up and I’ll go out with him and get a grocery store special for dinner.” Lily knew that meant a rotisserie chicken, a truly bizarre combination of the pre-made side dishes, and probably something sweet from the freezer aisle. But it was always perfect. She hugged him tighter and nodded. And she drifted off.

Lily woke later to the sounds of James and Harry coming into the house. James was keeping up a running conversation with Harry, talking to his son like he was much older than his 8 months. Lily stretched under the blanket that James must have laid over her, and the smell hit her nose. She cringed, but tried not to dwell and went to see her boys.

“Mommy’s awake, Harry, look!” Harry babbled happily and Lily took him from James, kissing all over his face.

“Did you two go on an adventure?” she said to Harry in an animated voice.

“We sure did,” James replied, picking up bags and heading to the kitchen. “To the wilds of Target. And we totally scored.”

Lily watched as he pulled groceries from the reusable bags like a magician pulling a never ending scarf from a sleeve. First came the expected rotisserie chicken, a container of spinach and artichoke dip, two options of chips, a pre-made spinach salad, and a few other grocery essentials.

“Wow, good choices, Harry!” Lily cooed. “I’ll be breaking into that dip immediately. Hopefully the terrible smell doesn’t ruin all this good food Daddy got us.”

“The power of spinach and artichoke dip can overcome anything,” James reassured her, and moved to take Harry from her. “Can you open up that bag, Lils?” he asked, pointing to one. Lily raised an eyebrow, but went to the bag and looked in. She paused for a long moment before reaching in and pulling out a wicker basket filled with all sorts of treasures.

“James! What is this?!” she exclaimed as she freed the basket from the bag.

“It’s a boo box!” James said happily. “You’ve been doing such a good job taking care of Harry when I’ve been on roadies, babe. And I love you so much, you do so much for us, so Harry and I wanted to do a little something for you.” He came over and leaned in to press a soft kiss below her ear and Harry pulled her hair happily.

“Thank you so much,” Lily said thickly.

“You're welcome,” James said easily. He turned and settled Harry in his high chair, and got some blueberries and a mini cucumber from one of the bags and washed them to pass to Harry for him to gum.

Lily looked through the basket. There was pumpkin spice syrup, of course there was. She huffed a laugh but was thankful for the easy version of the fall treat. Next she touched the new whisk, red this time, and sent James a small smile still tinged with sadness. There were also smaller bottles of brown sugar cinnamon, apple, and chai syrups. She set those aside and found three of the tubes that have all the ingredients you need for different soups, a foot mask, a lip mask, and finally underneath all of that she pulled out a crew neck sweater. It felt creamy and soft in her hands, with cute fall themed charms all over it. She hugged it to her chest and looked up at James. “James, baby. This is so nice.” James stepped close and took her into his arms, wrapping her in a hug from behind, his chin hooked on top of her head. He reached around her to point at some of the treasures.

“Lots of syrups to try is fun, right? I’m so going to try that apple one in something. And look how funny that lip mask is. Harry laughed so cutely when I held it over my mouth and pretended to talk with it. Let’s see the sweater on, isn’t it so soft?” he rambled.

Lily smiled with her eyes prickling as she pulled the sweater over her head. It was a bit oversized, the sleeves hung perfectly so she could scoop the cuff into her hands and feel the softness. James hugged her again, trailing his hands under the sweater to rub her back and feel the softness of the inside of the sweater.

“I love it James, thank you.”

“Love you, Lilyflower,” James said and leaned down to press a kiss to her lips. Lily turned and pressed a kiss to Harry’s head, thanking him too. He burbled happily back at her with purple fingers and mouth. James pulled out his phone to take a picture when the doorbell rang. He set his phone down on the counter.

“I’ll get it! But I’m so getting a picture of you in that sweater with Harry when I’m back.” He pointed finger guns at her as he walked a few steps backwards towards the front door.

Lily laughed and watched James’ back as he turned around and walked down the hall to open the front door. Her thoughtful, giving husband. The smell of burnt sugar still undeniably hung in the air, but it was fading. Her guilt was fading too, replaced with love for her family.

“Hey! Oh wow no way,” she heard James say from the door.

“Who is it?” she called as she started to put away the soups and syrups into the pantry.

James didn’t answer and she walked back to the side of the kitchen from where she could see the door.

“James? Oh!”

He surprised her, he was right there when she turned the corner, a big box in his hands.

“No one was at the door when I opened it. They must’ve just delivered the box and left.”

“What is it?” Lily asked.

James placed the soft cardboard box on the counter and opened the lid, revealing 6 of the most beautiful cookies Lily had ever seen. They were huge, fluffy and delicious looking. A chocolate chunk on, one that must be red velvet, one that looked like it might be peanut butter, and more that she could only guess at the flavours, but couldn’t wait to taste them and find out.

“Oh my god. They’re beautiful. Who are they from? Did you order these too?”

“Nope, not me, oh here’s the card,” James replied. “Awww, they’re from Loops, see.” He passed the card to Lily.

To Lily

I hope these drown out the burned smell!! Congrats getting through the day without a kitchen fire!

Lily laughed. “That little shit.”

“I’m surprised he went with cookies and not some sort of fire extinguishing blanket,” James laughed.

“Don’t suggest it, or at least 2 will be at our door as fast as he can get them shipped here.”

“Actually, I think that’s kind of genius? I’m going to order one. I’ll send them one too.” He broke off a piece of the chocolate chip cookie and popped it into his mouth as he opened up his phone. “No harm in being prepared.”

Lily could only nod along with that logic, and she reached out and broke an orange cookie apart, and yes, as the taste of pumpkin spice cookie filled her senses, the burned smell finally faded away.

#jily #baby harry #pumpkin spice #cw food #fic-o-ween 2023 #James/Lily #domestic fluff #yes #this is based off me smoking out my kitchen #it smelled bad for days #i did not however get a boo box

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amjusttree · 4 months

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Well folks, I've done it. I've successfully finished one full year of college. (It's about time, this is my third attempt). In the past year I've changed future career paths four times (Nurse, Doctor, Psychologist, Professor), befriended a group of grad students, changed my aesthetic, and finished off the year with an embarrassing 2.8 GPA.

My goals for this upcoming year might not be hard to guess, first one being to get rid of that godforsaken 2.8. I do not condone shaming people who are in the twos (employers don't care about your grades), but I happen to want a profession that fully surrounds academia. I was majoring in something I absolutely hated, so my motivation was low, but I have confidence that this year will be different.

My next goal is to have friends my age, as of now my closest friend is a 28-year-old with 28-year-old friends. We met back when I thought I wanted to be a doctor (he knew it wasn't the career path for me way before I did, he audibly sighed in relief when I said I wasn't going into medicine.).

I'm also technically friends with a few students I take a Latin class and a Greek mythology class with (one professor teaches most of the classics classes because my school is small, we have about ten people at a time in said classes) I'm kinda stuck with the same eight people for the duration of my minor. They're nice, but we only ever talk about our studies because we don't have much else in common.

My smaller goals are to read more, write essays for myself and not just school, publish something with my school's literary journal, and join at least one club.

#dark academia #journaling #academia #writing #dark academia aesthetic #literature #english literature #light academia #grey academia #studying #college #college student #studyblr #classics #greek tumblr #latin

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wachtelspinat · 2 years

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hey there!

welcome to my tumblr, name’s wachtel (or saskia).

i made this blog back in 2010, so here you can find the majority of my art since i started posting online. everything is tagged respectively...

...main tags with links are for example [ art / team fortress 2 / overwatch / midnight crew / mgs ] but there’s more

this blog contains mainly my art and asks but i‘ve also got....

... a place where i reblog various stuff that makes me laugh [LINK]

... another place for aesthetics, human stuff, and ref [LINK]

🌵🌵🌵 my shop in case you want a print [LINK] 🌵🌵🌵

- - -

oh, what? you wanna know a bit about ME 😳 ?

after fulfilling one of my biggest dreams (roadtrip through australia) in 2024, what‘s left? plenty actually, i still wanna have a doggy. and a camper van one day. and i need to go back to straya.

i’m a former graphic designer and nurse, had the most brilliant idea to study medicine one day and went on a trip that absolutely destroyed me. survived it all, and now i’m finally a doctor working in radiology. what a ride. would not recommend it to anyone.

🧠🔨 nazis, terfs and all those muppets can suck it. you either respect life and people or you don’t, but don’t expect a fair discussion at the end of the day. talk shit get hit.

i don‘t do commissions nor requests.

#want to have this as a pinned post #for all the new kids on the block

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drdemonprince · 1 year

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I’ve noticed many times at this point that there’s a disjoint between the treatment trans people receive from supposedly queer-affirming institutions and nonprofits, and the treatment we receive from for-profit services that only cater to the richest among us.

At sliding scale queer clinics and LGBTQ community centers, I’m treated like something of an inscrutable freak or an incompetent much of the time. People condescend to me, remember nothing about me, and misgender me even when my identity and pronouns are marked on my chart. Other basic facts about me and my health get regularly messed up too. Even my own doctor keeps forgetting I’m on testosterone gel, not injections, and multiple times I’ve had the wrong blood labs ordered for me or had paperwork misplaced.

I can easily contrast that to the treatment I get at the spas, tanning salons, gay bars, and plastic surgery centers I’ve visited, all of which cater to a wealthier, more privileged clientele. I’m gendered correctly more often at LA Tan than I am at the queer clinic. The technician who performed my laser hair removal was more respectful toward my trans body than any nurse I’ve met at Planned Parenthood. At the gender clinic, I was a forgettable number on a spreadsheet whose phone calls go unreturned. At the plastic surgeon, I'm served fancy coffee and asked about my aesthetic preferences.

Wealth unlocks access to a realm where queer people’s bodies and identities are respected, where we are trusted to manage our own healthcare and are remembered and prized. I desperately wish this weren’t the case. I’m sometimes a bit disgusted at myself for how much I enjoy receiving this lavish-seeming treatment, even though I know it’s only basic dignity.

The only way to escape erasure or institutional control under our present system is to have enough wealth to transform from mere patient into coveted consumer. With enough money, you can skip the clinic in all its bureaucracy, order hormones from an online service, book a major surgery within mere weeks, order UTI meds from an app, and pay a driver to take you home from the hospital rather than begging a friend.

Right now, I can afford to be a consumer, which means I am allowed to be a person and to do with my body whatever I wish. And I don’t know what to do with how good that feels.

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ausetkmt · 2 months

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Famous stories of passing - Google Search

Yes it's exactly what it says. so go take a good look and see how this works.

seems a bit strange by some of the pics but then again with all the quilting we'd have to have dna to even try to understand

America in all it's hues

“Passing” Reflected in Three Films

December 3, 2021 | African American Movie Memorabilia, African Americana, Black History

The Netflex film Passing deals with the African American topic that has come to be known as “Passing” when a person classified as a member of a racial group is accepted or perceived (“passes”) as a member of another. Historically, the term has been used primarily in the United States to describe a person of color or of multiracial ancestry who assimilated into the white majority to escape the legal and social conventions of racial segregation and discrimination.”

These three films, Imitation of Life (1934), Pinky (1949) and Passing (2021) each deal with a Black woman, who, because of her light skin, passes for white and the ramifications that occur when that reality becomes a significant factor in her life.

IMITATION OF LIFE

The above poster: Np: Realart Pictures, 1949. Vintage original 41 x 27″ (104 x 69 cm.) one sheet poster. Conserved on linen, with minor touch ups at old fold lines, near fine.

The first of these film was a landmark film of the 1930s. Directed by John M. Stahl with a screenplay by William Hurlbut and eight additional writers, is based on Fannie Hurst’s 1933 novel of the same name. The film stared Claudette Colbert, Louise Beavers, Warren William, Rochelle Hudson, and Fredi Washington. The film was originally released by Universal Pictures and later re-issued in 1936. A 1959 remake with the same title was directed by Douglas Sirk.

Story

Two young women, one black, one white, both widowed with young daughters, come to live together and start a pancake business which eventually makes them wealthy. The young black girl, who is light-skinned, repeatedly tries to disappear into the while world, with tragic consequences.

Reception

This is the only Hollywood film of the 1930s which attempts to deal with the issues of race and racism: “The one film of the Depression to suggest that a contemporary race problem existed in America. It was also an unintentional comment on the exploitation of its African American character Delilah.” (Bogle, Hollywood Black, p. 40)

The themes of the film, to the modern eye, deal with very important issues—passing, the role of skin color in the black community and tensions between its light-skinned and dark-skinned members, the role of black servants in white families, and maternal affection.

Consequence

In 2005, Imitation of Life was selected for preservation in the United States National Film Registry being deemed “culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant”. It was also named by Time in 2007 as one of “The 25 Most Important Films on Race”. The film was nominated for Best Picture, Best Assistant Director and Best Sound Recording, at the 7th Academy Awards.

PINKY

Pinky Is a 1949 American drama film directed by Elia Kazan and produced by Darryl F. Zanuck, from a screenplay by Philip Dunne and Dudley Nichols, based on Cid Ricketts Sumner’s 1946 novel Quality. It stars Jeanne Crain as the title character, a young light-skinned black woman who passes for white. It also stars Ethel Barrymore, Ethel Waters and William Lundigan.

Story

Pinky is a black woman so fair-skinned she was able to pose as white throughout nursing school. Newly graduated, she flees south to visit her grandmother after a doctor, unaware of her true ancestry, proposes to her.

Unsure how to react, she looks to her grandmother, who warns her that only trouble will come of an interracial marriage. Pinky agrees and instead stays to help her grandmother care for an elderly, rich, and fatally ill white woman, who dies and, to the horror of the white community, leaves her stately home and property to Pinky. Rejecting the entreaty of the doctor who proposed to her, she remains in the community and establishes “Miss Em’s Clinic and Nursery School”

Reaction

Pinky was released theatrically in the United States on September 29, 1949 by 20th Century-Fox. It generated considerable controversy due to its subject of race relations and its casting of Crain to play a black woman. It was nonetheless a critical and commercial success, and earned Crain, Barrymore and Waters Academy Award nominations.

PASSING

Passing, the novel, is by American author Nella Larsen, first published in 1929. Set primarily in the Harlem neighborhood of New York City in the 1920s, the story centers on the reunion of two childhood friends—Clare Kendry and Irene Redfield—and their increasing fascination with each other’s lives. The title refers to the practice of “racial passing,” and is a key element of the novel. Clare Kendry’s attempt to pass as white for her husband, John (Jack) Bellew, is a significant depiction in the novel and a catalyst for the tragic events.

Passsing, the film is a 2021 black-and-white drama film written, produced, and directed by Rebecca Hall in her feature directorial debut. … The film stars Tessa Thompson, Ruth Negga, André Holland, Bill Camp, Gbenga Akinnagbe, Antoinette Crowe-Legacy, and Alexander Skarsgård.

The film follows the book’s storyline: Mixed-race childhood friends reunite in middle class adulthood and become increasingly involved in each other’s lives and insecurities. While Irene identifies as African-American and is married to a Black doctor, Clare “passes” as white and has married a prejudiced, wealthy white man. This renewed acquaintance ignites a mutual obsession that threatens both of their carefully constructed realities.

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