#But maybe that's a reason why I never go to the doctor when I'm sick

[lesbianhivemind]

Does everyone forget instantly how healthy feels like the minute you get sick, like a minor cold?

Like, my throat hurts a bit and I'm in bed thinking

This is my life now, my throat will always hurt, my throat had always hurt

[featherymainffins]

Family is clearly just prolonging my and my mother's misery by forcing me to text her on special occasions and send her gifts, which is giving her false hope that her only boxing bag might come back and endure whatever she decides to take out on it again.

[luveline]

hi jade !! this is me resending my hotch request bc of ur recent post 🤍 i sent the one about hotch taking care of bau!reader who has a really bad stomachache, thanks so much, i think you’re amazing 💞💞💞

thank you for requesting angel! fem

You do this sad thing with your hands when you're in pain. Aaron wishes he didn't know your tell, that he'd never had reason to understand it, but he does. Your fingers, in particular your pinky, curl toward your palm frenetically, and he has an ample view of your closed off face in the chair opposite. He can pin the moment he knows you're in pain down to the minute twitch of your lip. 

He peeks at Morgan where he lays on the couch before leaning across the table to touch your arm. The jet offers little privacy, so Aaron tries to be delicate. 

“L/N? Are you alright?” 

“Mm,” you hum, too high-pitched to have come out the way you meant it. 

“What's wrong?” 

“Nothing.” You say this, and yet you can't open your eyes, leaning less than subtly away from him as though your pain is catching.

Aaron keeps his head down as he stands so as not to attract attention. You've sat near the wall, leaving an empty seat for him to sit in. “Hey,” he says, touching the crook of your elbow, wanting to fix it, soothe the twitch from your hand, “you're in pain.” 

“It's nothing.” 

“Saying it won't necessarily make it true,” he says. 

“It felt worth trying.” 

He is genuinely perturbed to see you in pain like this without explanation. “You have to tell me what's wrong.” 

“Hotch, I…” you say, your voice wrought with embarrassment as you open your eyes, “it's just my stomach hurts. That's all.” 

“Sharp pains?” 

“Just hurts. Nothing dire.” 

“How do you know?” he asks. 

“Happens sometimes.” 

He puts his arm around you, careful not to jostle your back. You're tense as a rubber band about to snap. It's unlike you to be the more rigid of the two of you, less foreign for Hotch to have softened, especially when it's you. “How often?” he asks, wary of the tears brimming like silver at the corners of your eyes. 

“Just sometimes, I don't know.” You speak in a concise, panicked tenor. 

In this line of work, it could be anything. Not eating enough, not having time to stop for breath. You could be thirsty, sick, anxious, stressed into pain. It could be purely psychosomatic or you could be injured. He can't remember you taking any blows during the last few days away. It could be your period. You might not want to mention that. 

“Y/N,” he says, falling out of boss mode now he's sure it's not going to kill you, and into someone who cares for you, “what can I do?” 

You shudder a breath, slouched under his touch. “It's not that bad.” 

It's clearly a shocking amount of pain. Your shuddering worsens as he pulls you into his side. He's prepared to sit with you until you can give him better instructions, or until the pain passes, or, God forbid, things get worse. “I'm here,” he says, rubbing your arm gently. “Try to breathe.” 

He's wondering why you might think this amount of pain is normal, or acceptable. Wondering why he shouldn't just call for medical assistance here and now, but then you start to come around, your face shining with perspiration. “Oh,” you sigh, wiping your face with your sleeve, leaning into your hand, hiding. 

“Is it getting better?” he asks. 

“I think it's anxiety or something.” Your breath slips out in disjointed huffs. 

He can't guess what it is. Have you been to the doctor? he wants to ask, but perhaps in a moment, when you're steady in yourself again. “From the jet?” 

“No. Maybe.” You frown. 

“Jack doesn't understand that I'm on a plane.” 

You lift your gaze in confusion. Aaron moves onwards.

“He doesn't understand that this is a plane. I brought him by, once, to try to explain why I can't always answer the phone. It's thick metal, you know?” It was an easier explanation than having no signal in the sky. “But he didn't get that it was something that could move. I had to take him to the airport. We watched…” He slows as your eyes meet his completely. “We watched them take off for hours. Now he doesn't get so angry when I don't answer.” 

“Jack was angry?” you ask, half incredulous. 

“A bit.” He tries to string the story together before you can realise what it is he's doing, his arm curling around your from behind, fingers making the most tenuous of circles into the very side of your stomach. A barely there sort of comfort. “It's not like him. He reminds me of his mom when he's angry.” 

Your smile is a physical relief to see. “Does he have tantrums?” 

“Doesn't every kid?” 

You talk about Jack in dulcet tones while he tries to keep the pain at bay, his arm steadfast behind you, your faces closer than they have any platonic business being. He'll pester you into doctors appointments when you touch down, but for now, he just holds you and talks to you like everything is normal. 

You cover his hand with yours when the pain starts anew, talking through it, pain in the soft line of your bottom lip. 

“Am I hurting you?” he asks. You give him a weak smile. He feels awful, but it makes his heart race. So close, and so pretty, and so upset. “Is there anything I can do?” 

An embarrassing amount of weight lies in ‘anything’. You shake your head, whispering, “Nothing. This is enough.” 

Aaron pulls you in closer and wraps both of his arms around you, hiding you from the others, an aimless attempt to protect you from a pain he can't touch. Someone puts a cup of tea on the table for you, but otherwise you're left alone for the rest of the flight. 

[threepandas]

Bad End: Preserve Us

You know how in conservation biology you sometimes try to introduce a pair to be mated and one will just... just fuckin' merc' the other? Just absolutely obliterate them in a hissing, growling, nightmare ball of fury? Before anyone can stop them? Territorial and (to put it lightly) "uninterested", dispite your desperate desire to save their species from extinction, and need for them to get frisky?

I know.

Holy SHIT do I know.

There's a lot of reasons. Ways you can (hopefully) get around it. But first? Is finding out WHY it happened. Was it just the one? The environment? Were they sick? Or... as is the case sometimes, did they decide their Handler was their mate? Some species only mate once. Are loyal for life. You gotta work around that.

Which is all well and fine and good.

When we're talking about ANIMALS.

Non-sentient, non-sapient animals! Not ALIEN SPECIES! What the ABSOLUTE FRESH HELL did they expect from me!? Compliance?! This was UNETHICAL! Monstrous! I had been trying to slip my gaurds long enough to radio for help SINCE I GOT HERE.

I hope the fuckers ROTTED in whatever their Gods considered a Hell.

"Conservation facility" my ENTIRE ASS. You can't run CONSERVATION EFFORTS like this on SENTIENTS. Eugenics loving, atrocity fetishizing, immoral BASTARDS!!! And they KNEW it too. They HAD too! Or they wouldn't be HIDING it! Fucking KIDNAPPING scientists! Biologists! Doctors!

I was on my ways to study Lekku monkeys!

God...

I'm? I'm so tired of being pissed.

Furious and outraged and SCARED. Horrified and sick. There are PEOPLE here. Kids! And I don't... oh god, I don't... H-How LONG has this been going ON? Why did no one NOTICE?

Every day I feel my heart break. The desire to scream and scream and never STOP, grow inside me. I have to get out. I have to get us ALL out. Get these people FREE. Do SOMETHING. But I am forced to "conserve" the species assigned to me. The group assigned to me.

It's killing my love for the field. Making a mockery of everything I worked for.

I don't... I don't think my hands will ever be clean again.

But I have to help. Do everything I can. Make hell a little kinder, if nothing else. At least while I figure out a way OUT. My group deserves better. The groups I do not work with, deserve better.

I disguise games as "testing". Pages and pages of meaningless numbers ans scores. INSIST that enrichment is the key to success. Diet is EVERYTHING. Oh, and habitat? Well unless we can mimic their habitat there's no WAY they'll "breed".

No, no, using machines would stress them out too much.

It's like you DONT want babies!

Who's the expert here? That's RIGHT! Dr. Cho, but FAILING her and like five other people? Me. And I know for a FACT they are pulling the same scam. We ALL fucking hate you. Dr. Cho has KIDS, you FUCKS. Hasn't seen her son in YEARS thanks to you bastards. He was engaged. She's probably missed his WEDDING thanks to you!

Getting distracted, spiraling again, gotta stop DOING that.

It wont help anyone.

But God, if my brain doesn't slowly feel like it's shorting out the longer I'm here. Stress is called the silent killer for a reason. Or what that something else? Fuck. I can't even look it up! Bastards cut us off from the galactic web. Full information blackout. Because of COURSE they did... can't risk us rightfully calling for help.

Getting the Feds involved to shut this hell pit of a black site DOWN. Or a "whatever it truely is" site. Because it sure as SHIT has nothing to do with conservational biology. Except maybe the abuse of it.

But that doesn't help me right now.

Focus, damn it!

The Yanderens. Old, absurdly rare, nearly extinct, with a home planet they'd reduced to uninhabitable wastelands millennia ago due too... something. No one knew what. There had definitely been fighting. It WAS documented they were excellent fighters. Ruthless ones at that. But it was ALSO documented they strongly pack bonded.

There had been a lot of strongly worded warnings on what few documation my captures were able to find, translate, then shove at me. But honestly? They said the same thing about humans. Ooooh big scary persistent hunters~ oh nooooo! Watch out for the omnivores with a history of war! Sins of the father and we are defined by our diets! Class systems! Let's all JUDGE each ooooootheeeeer~!

Yeah, no. Not buying it.

Especially when the "warnings" were so damn vague and poorly documented. All "the HORRORS!" and "we barely SURVIVED!". Cause honestly? The Yanderens I was watching over? Easily the most mild and temperate individuals I had ever met. No tantrums from the kids, no big emotional meltdowns, just curiosity and at WORST? Mild frustration.

It made everything ten thousand times worse for me, that these poor people were in this hellish place. They were calm. Curious. Meant for greater, BETTER things! They should be out, playing and learning. Exploring and enjoying peaceful strolls in some art gallery or zen garden somewhere! Not... not this sterile fucking LAB.

But then M-17 loses his SHIT.

And now I'm kinda panicking. Because F-6 is not just dead, God rest her soul (she didn't deserve this. Oh god. She was so SWEET.), but M-17 might just be too, soon. If I can't find out what HAPPENED. Because if he's "feral" or "diseased" or whatever other horrifying terminology they end up using? They DO something about it.

And I can't actually stop them.

I... I don't know if it was a trauma response. Or I did something wrong. I could PROBABLY pass it off as my needing more studies into their observed "mating habits"? That... that I somehow... turned it... uuuuh... dominance battle? Shit. Where are my notes?!

F-6 is DEAD and its all my fault.

She was such a cuddle fiend too. Always excited to hear about my studies, from before. My life. Wanted to join me after we got out of here. I never should have let her volunteer. Granted, she wouldn't have taken no for an answer. Wanted to spend the pregnancy plotting our escape. Asked me to help raise the kid once we got out. Had a whole grand plan. But I...And I...

God...

I should have said NO. Insisted. It was just so hard, when F-6 had made it all sound like it would be okay. Like she had a plan and all I need to do was trust her. Believe in her. Then we could be free.

I had hoped M-17 would work best. He was always the most agreeable and quick on the uptake. I figured... well... ha ha. God, I'm such an IDIOT. I should have CHECKED. Who KNOWS what happened before I arrived? What triggered I just accidentally rammed my foot into? FUCK! I sweep everything from me desk onto the ground. Don't give I shit that I'll have to clean it up later,

I had figured M-17 would be COOL with it.

This place is getting to me, isn't it?

Why the FUCK would anyone be COOL with getting jumped? Bred like an animal? Shoved in some random ass room, with a vaguely familiar stranger, and told "now fuck. We want a literal litter from you two"? All while some biologist watchs and makes god damned NOTES!?

Of course he fought back. OF COURSE he didn't stop!

The only one there he could trust was himself.

I...I'm becoming a monster... aren't I?

Oh god.

At least we're in the satellite facility. The gaurds are definitely going to rat me out, but the news will take time to filter back. And... and the Yanderens being so "dangerous" might work in my favor. I... I can spin this. I HAVE to spin this. I can't let TWO people die for my fuck up.

I promised myself I would get as many people out as I could. I refuse to back out now. Even if that means crying, puking, then going out there to lie my ASS off. This was TOTALLY NORMAL. In fact, expected! Yep! It means that's we've determined that M-17 is the alpha Yanderen! A thing that is both REAL and possible to BE!

I rinse my mouth, stomach empty. Crying has exhausted me. But I can't give up. Too many lives count on me now. I... I wish so badly I was just a nobody again. Just some random biology student, trying to make a name for herself. Being "important" is a CURSE.

I try not to chug my water as I half stumble out of the glorified shoebox that is my bathroom into the much larger and Fancier CLOSET that is my room. Truely, no expense spared, for the captives they ripped away from their lives. So glad I am here willingly and of my own volition.

I gather myself. Finally ready to go and try to untangle the mess I have made of everything. When a deep booming alarm rattles my bones. The lights flickering to red. Blast doors slide down, SLAM shut over the transparent recessed bit of wall that counts as my window, the door to the rest of the facility.

Trapping me inside my small room.

Almost immediately after, an EXPLOSION rocks the world hard enough to knock me from my feet. Only the bed's limited padding keeping me from a nasty concussion. The edge of it still ramming painfully into my shoulder. Another explosion. Then another. I sit for a long, terrible, second stunned.

The moment passes.

I scramble on my hands and knees for the in facility communication device that I had knocked from my desk in anger, grief. Not daring to stand lest I be thrown down again. I manage to find it as the world shakes again for the fifth time. Followed by what sounds like gun fire out in the halls.

I fling myself back towards my shitty little bunk. Drag every bit of padding and protection I can, down and under it with me. If the roof goes? I want shock absorption. If shots get through the door? I want something to slow those blasts down. Anything. ANYTHING! To increase my fucked chances of surviving.

I burrito up and wriggle back as deep as I can. The world muffled but ending just outside my crawlspace. Then I desperately try to get one of the others on the line. I got nothing but chaos. Running. Running. Hiding. And Dead.

Dead. Dying.

Remember me.

And GONE.

Some of them fighting with their groups too freedom. Some being targeted right along side their captors. Others savaged by the ACTUAL animals they had been working with, the one's Galacticly deemed too dangerous for effort like this. Someone or something had set EVERYONE free. A simultaneous attack on all fronts that our captors could not put down or escape.

The Yanderens were out there.

Oh god. Please let them be okay. They wer-

My thoughts ground to a halt as M-32 LAUNCHED his tiny body onto the screen of one of the security feeds I was desperately looking through. F-6 had figured out how to get us a backdoor to them a long time ago. M-32 was just a kid. A small, soft, cuddly little thing that loved to lean against me and crawl into my lap. All cherubic cheeks and cute little curls. Shy!

Yet I watched... in mounting horror... as like a lion on some unfortunate animal, he landed on a gaurds back. Small arms going around his body in a mockery of a hug. Head tilting so he could BITE at the back of the man's neck, small hands clawing and ripping at weak points in his armor, as he screamed. Thrashed. Tried desperately to get M-32 OFF of him.

There was so much blood.

My hands were shaking. So much, I accidentally hit the next screen button. Jerked my thumb back. But... but oh god. There was F-26. Using the butt of a rifle to slam down against the head of a scientist. Again and again and again. Long after the begging and thrashing stopped. I flipped again. M-4? No... please not M-4. Not the soft spoken and wise...

I watched as he grinned, a cold thing, and shot out another joint. His foot on the chest of the head scientist who had moved him to a different group. In the background, his supervisor lay dead. They had not died quickly. The head scientist was begging. A mess of tears and pain. M-4 shot another joint, pressing his foot down harder.

I wanted to be sick.

I flipped again. And again. And AGAIN.

H...Had I known them at ALL? Like demons wearing the faces of those I'd known. People I'd trusted. Not a SINGLE ONE was... oh... oh god. F-6. Had she been too? Would I have ever known? Was THIS what all those warnings meant? I couldn't think. Couldn't breath. Had... Had never had a panic attack but... BUT-!

I wheezed.

Shook.

"Oh, Clever giiiirl~" A familiar voice sang, before a blood splattered face flickered into being on the screen in my hands. "Where aaaare yoooou~?"

M-17. He'd somehow managed to take over the security cameras. That or the communication feed. His eyes were bright. A grin on his face like I'd never seen from him. ALIVE in a way I'd never seen him. The excitement transformed his face. No longer softly doll like, but something DANGEROUS. Unhinged. His eyes dilated and deadly teeth on display.

"Come out, come out wherever you aaaare~. I have so much to TELL you! We have so much to DO! I'm going to make you MINE sweetheart! No one else can have you. So come out. I won't hurt you much, I promise! Just gotta make you mine then we can leave okay~?"

Furious snarls echoed through the halls. Male and female alike. Old and young. I... I recognized each of those voices. What was HAPPENING?

"Aaaah? Did you TRASH really think you DESERVED her? Ha! Please." M-17 grin was cruel. Mocking. "You don't have a chance in hell of taking what's MINE."

His eyes seems to shift away from unseen enemies and back, somehow, to me. Warming to something euphoric. Resting his head on his hand as if to consider me. His fingers spread, stroking his own face, as if the desire to TOUCH was simply too great. As if what he was imagining was bleeding over into the real world.

"Oh clever girl~ my clever, clever girl~♡ I can't wait til it's just you and ME. Start think of where you want to go first, okay? We're going to get married. Have that child you wanted me for. All the things you ever dreamed~♡ I'm going to have you all to myself. No more annoying others. Ah~ can't wait to find you soon!"

"But first?"

"May the best of us Win."

[sciderman]

im so happy for you that you have a possible reason/cause for your brain itch!!!! i hope the tumor removal goes superduper smoothly. Do they know how long its been present/growing???????? how did you find out??? <- you obviously do not have to answer these personal medical questions lmao im just!!!! so curious and excited for you.

from what i've discussed with the docs it's been there for a LONG time... they say this sort of thing might take up to a decade to develop - it doesn't happen overnight!

i think i started noticing symptoms about maybe... 7 years ago? literally as soon as i started working full-time, maybe. my first job stressed me out so much and i cried underneath the tables at 8pm because i couldn't leave the office, i still had so much to do. i was leading up an entire ass animation department at 20 years old. bad. awful. that's when i started depending on things to get me through the day. my body started feeling awful. i thought it was anxiety, or me just being weak, i guess. i don't know if stress created the tumor, or the tumor created the stress - (well, it's the latter now) i think it's probably both, but all the research i've done and what the doctors have said is that there's just - some people with a genetic predisposition for it.

it's funny - i never miss a deadline, and i'm really really good at my job, always. i never let anyone down, ever, at the cost of my own sanity, and i seem to always, always have it put-together when i'm dealing with people - i have the constant consensus from everybody around me that i'm the most cheerful person to work with on this here planet earth - but apparently, my body was falling apart underneath it all - which i failed to recognise, because outwardly i was holding it together so well, and figured it was just normal to cry all the time when nobody was looking.

i started really noticing it after taking on a lot of freelance work on top of my day job – i was really doing very hot, and did these amazing projects for some really amazing clients who sought me out for being amazing (i am amazing) - but naturally, had consecutive nights of no sleep, and quick deadlines - and INVOICING... screams. and just, realised - after taking those jobs that - my heart did not stop pumping afterwards. my heart was still racing a mile a minute, even after all those jobs were done and dusted and ever-so-loved and appreciated by very happy clients. my heart. wouldn't. stop.

i figured it was MAJOR anxiety, and sought out some counselling sessions, hoping they'd help. i relayed my woes. i said i'm worried i'm not resting enough. i'm not sleeping enough. my heart rate won't go down. they said "oh. not everybody needs 8 hours sleep, don't worry about it. everyone's different." - for some reason that reassured me. i thought it was okay. okay. i don't need rest. maybe my body's just different and doesn't need rest. maybe that's why i wake up at 6am every morning without fail. i just don't need sleep, i guess. (bad advice.)

so – everyone is telling me i'm okay. i should just get on. you're barely sleeping? that's fine, you probably don't need it. your heart is pumping? that's healthy. your heart SHOULD pump, idiot. get back to work.

i felt very unhappy at work - i felt like i was stagnating - so i moved job, last year. i moved job to one that was so, so much more fast-paced. i thought the excitement and change would do me good - but i've been facing maybe - 3 deadlines a day? vs my previous one-deadline-a-month arrangement. and i think it broke me. i needed to depend on so many unhealthy habits to get me through the day. i needed like 6 energy drinks, 3 coffees, i'd have the shakes, i'd have the jitters, i'd feel like i was going to fall apart every single day.

and then, one day, i did.

one week last year i doubled over - my body was in so much pain that i couldn't sleep, i couldn't eat, and worst off - i couldn't work. it was the first time i'd taken sick leave - i couldn't function. after being on antibiotics that didn't work, i eventually went into the emergency room because i just couldn't sleep. i couldn't do anything. i didn't care if they put me down, i wanted the pain to end.

she was a kidney stone. her name was sharon (sharon stone) - i suspect it was all the energy drinks that made her. i've dealt with her now. but during the process, the doc pulled me aside, and he said "dear. do you have any pain in your other kidney?"

i said... no............... why?

doc said "ah. problem for another time."

so, once sharon was dealt with, obviously i had to chase up on that doctor's ominous warning. i said "WHAT'S WRONG WITH MY OTHER KIDNEY!!"

you have a tumor, dear. his name is lamar. he's on your right adrenal gland, and we suspect he's messing up all your hormones.

i did my own research, and turns out all these crazy, mysterious symptoms i've been having all line up - so i chased, and chased, and chased.

the doctors didn't take me seriously at first. because i guess i'm not in pain, and i handle it so well. i'm still so strong. i'm a fighter, i guess. whatever. but, turns out...

it's worth it to chase. your life might depend on it. i'm so glad i did, because there's an end to my suffering (dear god, i hope) - but, guys, if your heart won't slow, and you chronically can't relax, and you feel like there are bees in your brain - that's the time to do some research. it isn't normal, actually. and sure - it might not be a tumor, but - kid, you need some support. you need some help. you need to ask some questions. it's not okay for that to be your baseline. your body needs to rest. it needs to rest. even if i have to force it to. it has to rest.

right now i'm in a major stressed way, and i broke down and cried. i'm in the middle of a freelance job, and in the middle of an interviewing process for a new full-time job, and still working my current full-time job with 3 deadlines a day, and my surgery is next week. and i feel like crying. all the time.

i can't wait for rest. i hate that i literally have to be hospitalised to get it. but, i'll get it. i'm going to rest so fucking hard.

[midnight-mourning]

I'm back! (for the most part)

Hello, hope everyone is doing alright, needed a few more days than I expected. BUT, here now and slowly working on being more active. May take me a bit but plan to get caught up with everything and the likes. Going to release promptobers throughout the next couple of days, along with anything else I'm currently working on. Expect some updates on the oneshot, ch. 35 and so on as well ^-^ Thank you all for your paitence and hope to be back to regularly posting soon!

some medical/mental stuff below the cut if you're curious, I was going to save this for the ch. 35 note, but figured I might as well just say it now as it's part of the reason my return was delayed

SO, haven't really spoken on it but I've had a sinus infection for about two months now and gonna be so fr with you all, it's sucked. Like, i've never had one this bad before and it just totally knocked me on my ass. I've been tired, dazed/brain fog, some bad headaches/face pain, all the really fun stuff. I made the joke that I spent like two days of being 23 healthy and the rest of the time I've been sick lmao

But anyway, I kept waiting to see if it would clear up on it's own (and for like a week or so there my health insurance was messed up so there was that to deal with) and it just, didn't. And with everything going on with research (esp this past week) I just made myself tough through it hoping it would get better, and it didn't. So, finally went to the doctor and got on some meds and I'm feeling a LOT better.

The point to all this is to say, I've had no motivation to write beyond very small bursts and thus why I've been putting out promptobers but not the latest chapter of CS. My energy has just been super low, and I had a lot of brain fog for several weeks and I just, couldn't bring myself to do it. Maybe it was a little bit of writer's block from stress too, not super sure

I took the break mainly bc things with research just got, really shitty for a few days there and I just needed time away from everything for bit esp with the sickness issues. Thankfully, things are working out a bit better this week people-wise and hopefully we'll continue to go up from here.

As for why I was gone the few extra days, the stuff they put me on made me feel physically great, but it also made me feel like doing absolutely nothing for a day or so. But, figured out the timing for those so now it's manageable to get through the next week and hopefully I'll be fully back to normal by then ^_^

TL;DR if you can go to the doctor when you're sick, go. It is NOT worth the discomfort, stress, etc to not. Also, take a break when you're stressed, does wonders for your mental health

well, since you took the time to read all of this, enjoy these pictures of a cat that showed up at my parents place a few days ago. She’s a bengal! Which makes her the second stray that's shown up that is incredibly rare/bred to look like that (the first is Nubs, my idiot who eats everything if any of you recall). Not to worry, she went home to (hopefully) her forever family early yesterday :)

[lolhex12]

we don't talk enough abt akutagawa's cough / lung disease (chronic&terminal) yet it has so much angst potential?? anywayy

after the current arc, atsushi knows akutagawa is actively dying and he's the only one who does bc akutagawa didn't tell anyone else abt it. (altho, in all honesty, the amount this man coughs should at least hint at it. i'm honestly amazed not more ppl in the story are concerned abt it)

so, the next mission they have together, akutagawa coughs and atsushi is now aware what it really means, so he wonders out loud with nonchalance masking his concern: "hey, so like, do you think yosano's ability would help with your cough and all? would it go away then?"

akutagawa, wiping his mouth, slightly annoyed: "how would i now? i'm not well-acquainted with your coworkers, weretiger, therefore it's none of my concern. and even then, i wouldn't trust any ada members with my issues, nor my life."

atsushi finds his words a bit sus bc 'u do trust me tho', but doesn't say it out loud and they leave it at that.

somehow, it becomes a regular thing. every time they have a mission together and atsushi hears his partner cough, he presents more ideas of how they could cure a terminal lung disease, and they vary in absurdity as he runs out of inspiration.

his ideas range from mere "have you tried going to a doctor?" (<- at which akutagawa stares in disbelief: "you either think i'm an idiot, or you are the idiot. which one is it?" and atsushi pouts bc 'ok yeah, fair... but also, rude') to insanities like "maybe witchcraft would help! i could look up witches in the area and see if black magic or something has any luck." (<- at which akutagawa is so done he doesn't even entertain the idea and just keeps walking)

they never follow through with any idea tho, bc akutagawa stubbornly refuses to waste time on trying to find a cure when his time on earth already is very limited.

it should also be noted that each time the cough gets worse; louder, rougher, more persistent and even bloody, which only makes atsushi more and more worried.

so one time, akutagawa's particularly annoyed by atsushi's insane and stupid ideas. he turns to him and point-blank asks: "why do even care so much whether i succumb to my illness or not? surely, my death should only leave you overjoyed to see the world be rid of one more evil."

that makes atsushi think bc 'why? why does he care whether akutagawa lives or dies? he's right, a bad person like a mafioso dying should be a good thing.'

after lengthy contemplation he comes to the conclusion that he simply cannot have his sworn enemy/rival/partner die from something as pathetic as a disease. someone as strong as akutagawa has to die in a more memorable way - not alone, in a bed, coughing, with nothing more to be remembered by. if anything he'd have to die fighting atsushi or something. yeah that's it. that's why. (<- it's not, but they're not quite there yet)

so atsushi tells him as much. akutagawa accepts it bc 'yeah, makes sense. what else could the reason be?'

the whole routine of coughing and brainstorming a solution in vain continues as the ideas get even more insane, the cough even worse and atsushi more concerned than ever.

the next time akutagawa is annoyed enough to pose the question again, atsushi is close to tears from anxiety as he holds up akutagawa who collapsed and can't seem to subdue his cough properly.

atsushi struggles to get out the water bottle and cough drops he'd started carrying around on their missions together. he's so scared bc he's never seen akutagawa look so sick and frail before (but not weak. never weak. akutagawa could never be weak in atsushi's eyes. it's impossible, bc akutagawa being strong is a simple, unchangeable fact, constant in any possible universe).

what would he do if akutagawa actually died there? in his arms? on a mission? which would probably get cancelled. would the pm think atsushi killed him? does he bring back the body or just bury it somewhere? pretend he got killed on the mission and not by his own body that had turned on him years ago and was in reality a long time coming? he couldn't even bear to think abt it.

"why tf do u care so much??" akutagawa yells with a scratchy voice before his cough continue despite his best efforts to stop.

atsushi can barely breathe anymore. "because i don't want you to die, you idiot! we're a team! you're my partner. who will i be left with if you go?" tears stream down his face, mainly from how overwhelming his anxiety feels. or maybe bc he really doesn't want his partner to die? nah, it's the anxiety. definitely the anxiety. (<- #denial)

akutagawa, at first embarrassed how his collapse derailed their mission bc goddammit he's supposed to be a professional and not let his issues interfere with his job, pauses when he sees atsushi crying... for him? because of him? ???

he's very confused bc he's pretty sure his rival/enemy/partner should not be so concerned abt his health and impending death, but something abt atsushi's expression and that whole situation makes him rethink his outlook on life.

that's when akutagawa starts taking his health more seriously and actively looks for possible, feasible ways to cure his disease, even if there's only a small chance it'll actually work. bc seeing atsushi like that made him realize there are a handful of people who care abt him and would mourn him if he died; more than just his sister and higuchi.

it made him realize his life had a bigger impact on others than he'd previously thought, not all of it bad.

[thevioletcaptain]

So I've been quiet on here a lot longer than planned.

The reasons are many. The reasons are varied.

The reasons are mostly fucking horrible.

Under a cut because it's long. Check tags for content warnings.

First was the expected absence: my parents came to visit me in Los Angeles over my birthday, so I spent the first half of October showing them around whenever I wasn't working a shift at my shitty department store day-job, or in class at UCLA.

Then, almost immediately after they went back to Australia, I got a second job working as a personal assistant for a composer. This was (and is) an extremely fun and rewarding job, but meant having one more thing on my weekly schedule, which was an adjustment.

Given that until halfway through last year, I'd been out of work since I immigrated in 2019, it took a while for me to get used to having so many concurrent responsibilities, and I'd just started to get a handle on things when I got sick right before the holidays. I took many covid tests -- all negative -- and eventually determined that it was just last year's strain of flu, which I hadn't managed to find time to get the shot for due to the aforementioned super busy schedule. I'm almost positive it was thanks to a particular customer at the aforementioned shitty department store job who coughed hard enough in my direction for their germs to get through my n95.

Anyway, last year's flu was a monster, and I spent a week in bed with a fever, then several more weeks being utterly drained and with a horrendous cough to match. It took a full month for me to recover, and then in mid-January, almost as soon as I started to catch up on all the things that had fallen behind while I was sick, things got bad, then good, then worse, then better, then much, much, much worse.

Basically, it starts with my dad being diagnosed with prostate cancer. He'd told me in October when they came to see me, but the surgery was scheduled for the tail end of January.

The surgery happened on a Monday, and it was a complete success. They got it all in one go. No chemo or radiation or further treatment needed at all. I spoke to him on the phone after he woke up, and he was in good spirits. Happy to have been given the all clear by his doctors.

I told him to watch Star Trek: Strange New Worlds & Evil while he rested up at home, because I'm writing specs for both this year and wanted him to be able to read them and know what was going on. He's the one who got me into sci-fi and horror, after all.

He went home.

He was home for two days.

He started feeling a bit rough on the Thursday. Short of breath. No appetite. Mum took him back to the hospital, just to be safe.

Turns out he'd had a mild heart attack. They couldn't figure out why. The echocardiogram didn't show any issues with his heart.

Then over the next couple of days, his breathing got worse. They took a scan of his lungs, and found that they were extremely inflamed. They'd given him covid tests but they came back negative. We told them about a work accident he had about 20 years ago, where a switchboard he'd been working on exploded in his face, and he'd suffered from inhalation burns among other things.

They thought that maybe something during the prostate surgery had caused irritation in his already damaged lungs, which put stress on his heart and caused the mild heart attack. He's never had any issues with his lungs since that accident, but they thought that maybe he'd just adapted to the damage over the years without realizing.

They kept trying different treatments to help his lungs heal. Nothing seemed to work. His breathing kept getting worse. They had him on as much oxygen as possible without intubating him, but it wasn't enough, so over that weekend they decided that they'd need to move him to another hospital with a more specialized lung unit.

When they were preparing to do that on the Monday night, he crashed. Another heart attack. Bigger, this time. They intubated him. Sedated him. Called my mum and told her to come in right away because things looked so bad.

But then he rallied. By the morning, though he was still sedated and intubated, the doctors were confident that with the right treatment at the specialized lung unit at the other hospital, he'd be okay. He was still in a rough condition, but stable. They transferred him to the other hospital.

He was given another covid test. This one came back positive.

My mum and brother called me once it was a reasonable time in Los Angeles to let me know what was going on, and the next day my brother booked me a flight back to Australia. I had to leave for the airport about five hours after my ticket was booked.

I got to Melbourne on February 1st.

For the next two weeks, dad was intubated, sedated, and in an isolation room. Every few days, they scanned his lungs again, and they were slowly improving.

Finally, he stopped testing positive, and was moved to a regular room in the ICU. Then he healed enough for them to extubate him and wake him up.

On February 13th, he was conscious enough to squeeze my hand when we went in to see him. On February 14th, he was conscious and capable of talking enough to ask a nurse in his ward to bring him his phone, and called mum first thing in the morning to wish her a happy Valentines Day.

Two days later, on Friday 16th, his lungs looked good enough on scans that they felt it was safe to do an angiogram, which they wanted to do just to double check that there weren't any issues with his heart that they missed with the echo.

They did the test. They found massive blockages. 90% blockage in one artery; significant blockages in two others.

Even though he'd barely recovered from covid, the blockages were bad enough that they scheduled him for open heart surgery on Monday 19th. They said without surgery there was a 100% chance that the blockages would cause another massive heart attack that he would not survive. They said there was about a 20% chance that he'd have complications, but only about 4% that they'd be serious/life threatening.

Like before, the surgery went well. Triple bypass, in the end. We got a call late on Monday afternoon to say that he was in recovery and looking good. His heart was functioning perfectly. They'd bring him out of sedation that night. Keep him in the ICU one or two days just as the standard post-op procedure. He'd spend a week or so in a cardiac ward after that, then head to a physical rehab ward for a couple of weeks until he could build back the muscle mass he'd lost while sedated.

We went in to see him the next day. Tuesday 20th. His 66th birthday.

He was tired, but looked good. Color in his cheeks. He made a couple of jokes. We left after about 45 minutes because he was pretty worn out, and we wanted to let him get some rest.

But then after, that his breathing started to get bad again. By Wednesday morning, they'd switched out the oxygen prongs in his nose for a big, high-pressure mask again. They called to let us know they were going to intubate him again so he could rest while his lungs recovered a bit more.

They struggled to get the tube in.

His lungs were deteriorating badly. He kept getting worse. We couldn't go in to see him because they were working on him all day.

At 9pm we got a call to say that he was just getting worse. They had him on 100% oxygen. He just wasn't absorbing it. His entire body was under massive strain. They were doing everything they could, but he just wasn't improving.

They said we should go in right away.

We got there by 10pm. My brother and his wife arrived about the same time. We went in to see him. He didn't look good. He looked pale. But he was warm, and he'd come back from the brink before, and we were sure he could do it again. We stayed with him for about an hour, and left not long after 11pm. Went back to my brother's place because they live closer to the hospital.

We were there about half an hour before they called us again. Just after midnight. He was gone.

That was about a week and a half ago, now. It still doesn't feel real. He was only 66. He hadn't even retired yet. He was working full time up until the week before Christmas, and had planned on going back to work a few days a week after he'd recovered from surgery. He never had any heart trouble, or lung trouble. He was active. He was fine.

My wife Zel and her mom flew in a couple of days after it happened. I barely remember anything from the past two weeks. Everything just feels fake.

I've been trying to write something to say at the funeral, which we've finally been able to arrange for next week -- it was delayed because we had to wait for dad to be released by the coroner. I don't think I'll be able to do it.

Anyway. That's where I've been.

It'll probably be a little while longer before I'm around here much, let alone posting with any regularity, because I'll be in Australia helping my mum & and my brother sort everything out. I have no idea how long I'll be dealing with stuff, or when I'll be able to make words cooperate enough to post anything, but I'll be back eventually.

I'm trying to keep an eye on Discord (I'm violetmatter over there) so you can find me there if you want. But yeah, I just wanted to let you guys know why I've been so quiet.

[copperbadge]

Hi Sam! When you decided to go for an adhd diagnosis, is there a reason you went to the type of place you chose? I know you ended up having a difficult time with them after your evaluation. Did you go to your pcp first or try any other routes?

I’m starting to feel very heavily impacted by what I’m fairly certain is undiagnosed adhd, and I really want to try medication to see if it helps, but as I’m sure you’re aware, the process of making appointments is very difficult for one with undiagnosed adhd. Sigh. I’m wondering if it’s worth it to try and just make an appointment with my regular doctor to see if that gets me anywhere. But I know that doctors tend to be very cautious when prescribing, and I don’t want to bother with completely pointless appointments.

I just feel so overwhelmed when I think about trying anything else.

Yeah, I started working on getting evaluated in 2019 and only managed it in 2022, so I'm familiar with The Delay :D It never occurred to me to go through my primary care doctor -- I haven't had one for most of my adult life, because my insurance doesn't require it in order to see my specialist, and I just use a clinic if I'm sick. If you have a PCP you trust that's probably your best bet. You don't need to talk to them about prescribing, even, just talk about "I wonder if you have a recommendation for where I might get evaluated." You might even be able to get a recommendation without making a formal appointment. But if you get pushback on getting evaluated, then you can venture out on your own (more on this below).

I had a recommendation for a testing site, and I called a handful of times in 2019, but they never called back -- the desk person would say "Leave a message for our scheduler" and I'd say "Is there any way I can talk to a person? I keep leaving messages that don't get returned" and they'd say "Oh, they'll definitely return it this time" and that never happened. So by about mid-2019 I gave up and said I'd deal with it later. I started to research it in 2020, but then there was a global pandemic and I didn't want to be spending hours on end in a small room in a medical center.

And honestly, whenever I spoke about it to someone who wasn't a peer -- a parent, a doctor, etc -- I'd get a skeptical look and the response, "But you're so put-together and you're successful. Why would you think you have ADHD?" And I internalized that a little, to the point where I thought, yeah, I'm coping fine, it's not like anything would change other than maybe medication, why bother? Which...

That worked until it didn't, sometime in late 2021.

It worked until I looked at my life, which was not falling apart, and could see it fraying, and that if it did fall apart, it would be catastrophic. So my resolution for 2022 was to get evaluated. If it was ADHD, to get medicated; if it wasn't ADHD, to get help because clearly my life was not going as well as it looked.

So I just...sat down with an empty spreadsheet and I started googling "adult adhd evaluation chicago" (If you're not in a major city, I'd google your state or major cities nearby instead). Every site I found, I recorded the URL, my thoughts on the site, and their process for making an appointment. Once I had a list of places, I started "cold-calling" -- mostly via email, just reaching out to each place and recording the date and how I contacted them. When they answered, I recorded the date they replied and whether I responded.

The place I ended up going wasn't the first to call me back but they WERE the most responsive, and the first to schedule me for the evaluation (I did save the spreadsheet in case that fell through). They did a good job, more or less; I had struggles with them, but those were more to do with the fact that the woman who evaluated me already had one foot out the door and left my eval unwritten, meaning someone else had to take up the slack, which took time. And it at least helped to be able to say to my prescribing psych, during our first meeting, "Look, I have a diagnosis but I'm struggling to get the paperwork from them, and I'm really hanging on by a fingernail here." He gave me a much-abbreviated evaluation (basically a 20-minute questionnaire) and was able to prescribe for me that day.

So your other option is to just...find a psychiatrist who specializes in adult ADHD and/or ADHD medication management, make an appointment, and say, "I don't think I have it in me to set up a longform evaluation for this. I'm wondering if you can help me get evaluated and get some help." One of my goals was to get medicated but your overall goal is not medication -- the goal is help, and that just often happens to be medication. This isn't like, a trick to get a prescription or to manage a suspicious doctor (those have their place, believe me I know) -- your goal in getting treatment should always be to improve your life. But it's okay to want medication, you just have to want it in terms of improving quality of life, not medication qua medication.

So on the one hand, you sound like you need help, and you should work towards getting it -- but on the other, bear in mind that this sometimes just takes the time it takes, and keep your eyes on the goal. If you can be doing something, do it, and if you can't, then don't feel guilty that you can't.

Good luck :)

[cookinguptales]

you know, when I was like... maybe 7ish we had a pizza party at school. they had 2-liters of coke for us, but I remember crying because I wanted diet coke. and all the teachers were like ??? because it's not typical, I'll admit, for kids to want diet drinks. and I was asked, y'know, am I diabetic? do I have blood sugar problems?

no and no.

my dad has trouble digesting sugary drinks. I was never banned from them, I just didn't have the opportunity to drink them often. we only had diet drinks and juice in my house. (and even juice wasn't my favorite.)

so I didn't like coke. it tasted far too sweet to me. it was unpleasant. I wanted a diet coke. and I cried because everyone else had a special-occasion drink they liked but I had to drink coke, which was so unpleasant, until a teacher took pity on me (or got irritated) and got me a can of diet coke from the break room.

and, y'know... for years, I felt embarrassed about throwing a fit about that damn drink. oh, I should have just shut up and drank the coke, or maybe just gone without a drink. it's so embarrassing the way I cried over everything as a child. (and I do mean everything.)

but I understand these days that I was dealing with a fairly traumatic home life (that I constantly tried to tell the adults in my life about, but who told me I was overreacting) as well as being neurodivergent. I understand things like sensory issues and RSD now. I get why everything always felt so overwhelming at that age, why everything felt like it was the end of the world and why I felt like everyone would hate me for every perceived infraction.

what I understand better, though, is that I also cannot digest sugary drinks. it turned out to be something I inherited from my dad. my father and I aren't diabetic or anything; we've been tested many times. we just... don't handle sugar well. and I hadn't been exposed to a lot of sugar back then, but I knew when I had really sugary things, especially in liquid form, I didn't like it. I didn't like the way it tasted and I didn't like the way it made me feel.

we didn't know that I had an actual medical issue back then, or that I probably should have always had low-sugar snacks on hand. that they should have had a diet coke for me from the beginning.

but we knew that I didn't want to drink that soda.

idk, I just... as a kid, I always felt so ashamed of this episode. like I was being purposefully manipulative to get what I wanted. but as an adult, I have a lot more patience and understanding. I hate that we don't just listen to kids. they don't always have the experience to tell us why something is bothering them, but they know that something is bothering them.

I'm thinking now about how long it took me to get diagnosed with my multiple chronic illnesses, and how part of what took so long was the fact that many doctors didn't take me seriously. several of them told my parents they should be taking me to a therapist, not a medical doctor. they thought I was just a kid acting out.

idk. idk. this isn't like... a full meta post or a well-thought-out post about disability or anything, but just... I'm thinking about how from birth, we're taught to ignore what our body is telling us. (especially if we're AFAB.) I'm thinking about how raising a fuss while trying to take care of that body is something that'll get you shamed.

I'm thinking about how sick I got every time I drank juice at breakfast, and how none of that was necessary.

going to school with my spine partially dislocated wasn't necessary. fainting between classes wasn't necessary. hell, going to school with bruises and bites and scratch marks all over my body wasn't necessary.

idk. I don't want kids. for a lot of reasons, really. but sometimes I want to take care of them just so I can listen to them as they learn what their body is telling them and spare them any unnecessary harm I can. :(

[plantsjustwannahavefun]

Theories on how Izzy lost his leg

Okay so we're all very interested in Izzy's leg, obviously, but so far everyone else seems to assume it was caused by his toe getting infected. I don't buy it, though, for several reasons.

For one thing, I'm not a doctor but is this really how infections work? How would a toe infection spread so far and so quickly that they had to cut his entire lower leg off? Yes, we know Izzy isn't inclined to accept help or allow himself to appear weak or sick, but he's not stupid either. He's an experienced pirate, he must have seen enough amputation or deaths from infections to know what's at stake. He's much too practical to let it get this far without seeking medical help or at least getting it amputated sooner so that he only had to lose a foot and not his entire calf or even his knee (can't tell from those few frames in the trailer yet).

And besides, we already saw his foot get better at the end of S1, it seemed like several weeks had passed and he was walking just fine, wasn't even using his cane anymore. From what I know, if a wound gets infected, it typically happens within the first few days of an injury. In several weeks it would either have got infected already or healed enough not to be a problem anymore. For much of the S2 trailer Izzy is seen taking part in attacks, with his leg still whole, so it seems like he only lost his leg in the second half of the season. We don't yet know what sort of timeline the season follows, but it's safe to say it's going to take place over a period of at least 3 weeks. So that's several more weeks. That makes it even more unlikely for Izzy's toe to suddenly get infected towards the end of the season after all this time.

And secondly... it would just be a bit boring from the narrative perspective. Losing the toe was already punishment enough. Even if it had healed fully with no physical consequences at all, the whole experience of being woken up in the middle of the night to the pain of having it sheared off and then forced to chew and swallow it is was definitely traumatising enough not to be forgotten that quickly... This show doesn't shy away from graphic injury and violence, but it's never gratuitous. That's why that toe cutting scene was so powerful - it already stood out as one of the most seriously violent moments in the show. Adding more to it would only diminish its impact rather than strengthen it.

Now you might want to mention Lucius losing his finger, and the way it didn't happen immediately and went from a minor injury played for laughs to a serious infection with a significant time gap, but that's a very different case. There was a comedic contrast here, a very minor injury that happened in comical circumstances (Buttons accidentally biting Lucius's finger) unexpectedly turning into something serious. But Izzy losing his toe was taken seriously from the very start, there was nothing comical about it. There already was an expectation that it could turn into something worse... but it didn't. And Lucius having his finger cut off wasn't portrayed as a punishment, just bad luck, a realistic moment on a 17th century pirate ship. It led to a cute and significant moment between Lucius and Black Pete, but other than that it could have happened to anyone. And he only lost that one finger. If he got a finger bite and ended up losing his whole forearm, that would have been way too cruel and out of character for this show.

So, what's my take then, you ask? Well, I don't really have anything concrete. Except, we know that the real Blackbeard shot Izzy in the knee. I know OFMD isn't trying to be historically accurate, not when it comes to the characters at least, but they could still use that bit for inspiration. Maybe Ed does shoot at Izzy. Or maybe Ed tries to shoot at Stede, but Izzy gets in the way. Or maybe Stede does something really stupid and Izzy gets shot or injured trying to protect him - no really, think about it, they're practically glued at the hip in the trailer. They're having a friendly banter. They're gonna be friends. Getting himself injured while trying to protect Stede would be a major milestone in Izzy's redemption arc. It would even explain that bit in the trailer where an already peg-legged Izzy punched Stede in the gut. It wasn't a hateful punch, you could tell he wasn't really trying to hurt Stede. It looked more like punching your buddy out of anger when they did something really, really stupid that got both of you in trouble.

Honestly, I'm open to pretty much any theory, except the toe infection because it's boring af and makes no sense.

[oddballwriter]

Dwelling in the Night, Part Three: Ruined Meals

Series Masterlist

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 - Pt. 4

Summary: The run-ins with The Silhouette and the strange behaviors of their next-door neighbor continue on. However, it seems like the longer these happenings go on, the stranger it gets with The Silhouette acting more now annoyed with the run-ins with MoonKnight, and Steven's neighbor appearing a bit disheveled.

Warnings: The reader is a vampire, so there is talk of blood, being undead, and the like. The reader as Y/N eats raw meat at a certain point. It is mentioned that at a certain point, the reader looks sickly. The reader has canonically killed and kills criminals.

Author’s Snip: This is half the usual length of the other parts in this series and I'm sorry for that. this also doesn't really help much with the plot but I wrote it already and did the word count so I can't really do anything now. I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Word Count: 1294

Three times.

Three times this month the boys have caught Silhouette and what most likely would have been their latest criminal catch. At first, it seemed like a nice surprise to them, a bit of some banter between the two of them before parting ways. But now they've been getting more annoyed with the meetings.

Of course, Marc and the rest of them weren't just going to let Silhouette kill someone right in front of them, nor did Silhouette desire to kill in front of him either.

In the meantime, you had seemingly shut yourself into your apartment for weeks now. You hardly came out, both in the day and during the night and it was starting to worry Steven. He had really started to think that the two of you were starting to get along and become friends. But now it seems like you're back at square one for seemingly no reason.

Maybe you were just busy with something involving your work. Whatever that was. You've never told him about it.

But he still worried because whenever he would catch a glimpse of you, you looked a bit worse for wear. You looked paler and looked like you'd been restless for a bit.

🩸🩸🩸

"Why don't you just go to their place and ask if they're okay?" Jake asks as he watches Steven pace around the living room of his flat from the glass of Gus II's tank. "Because they're asleep at this time, mate." Steven answers, "If I knock then I'll just be bugging them, and that's the last thing they probably need right now." the Brit adds. "Are they sick?" Jake questions. "I don't know. Maybe. They just don't look right." Steven says.

"Well. They did say that a doctor's got them on a liquid diet, right? Maybe that's got something to do with it." Jake suggests.

"Maybe," Steven mutters to himself. "I hope they aren't making themselves stay on the diet. It looks like it's hurting them pretty bad if it were that." Steven worries.

"Maybe confront them next time you see them." Jake recommends, "We don't want your only friend other than us and your little fish to go wasting away." Jake adds a light-hearted quip to try and sell Steven on the idea.

🩸🩸🩸

Another night of patrolling. Though, this time Marc didn't see Silhouette. It felt a bit off. They had grown so used to crossing paths with them on rare occasions, though recently it hasn't been that rare. But the thought that it was for the better, maybe you could finally get a kill in peace.

Marc slips in through the flat's window into the usually darkened space. But this time a light shone in the usual darkness, coming from the kitchen. The fridge light, which only shone when it was open.

Marc was careful, keeping the mask and suit on to keep his identity hidden and making whatever was here think that MoonKnight managed to catch a random house break-in and not his own. Because he knew he, nor the others left the fridge like that when they left.

He crept about looking for any signs of someone still being around while investigating the kitchen.

He found the fridge ransacked, all of its drawers and contents rummaged through in what looked to be a search for something. Upon looking down at the floor before the fridge, he saw disheveled plastic wrap and styrofoam trays with some spots of reddish wet droplets strewn about. It took Marc a moment to realize just what he was looking at and needed to do a few look-backs at the fridge.

The meat.

It was the containers of slices of meat that Marc and Jake had gotten for themselves for their own food. Someone took... someone seemingly ate the raw slices of meat that they had in the fridge.

"That's disgusting." Steven comments.

Marc moves away from the scene. He tries to look around and figure out if this person is still here and if not, where they could have gone. In this process, he mimics a possible escape route through their open window, only to notice that your window is opened too.

He only really thinks "Shit-" before quickly scaling the gutter under the window to yours, fearing that this freak's broken into your place too. Marc also doesn't think before hopping into your flat.

There, he finds you just having come out of your bathroom and being startled by the sight of him.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to alarm you." Marc apologizes. "I was patrolling round the place. Someone broke into your neighbor's flat through the window. I wanted to make sure they didn't break in here too." he explains before trying to make his exit through the window again.

"Marc! What the bloody fuck?" Steven exclaims. "You just broke into Y/N's place! They could have recognized your voice with mine!" he scolded. "You have an accent, Steven. They didn't see our face. They won't have any clue that it's your voice." Marc assures, upon making it far enough away from your open window so that you can't hear him anymore.

"That doesn't mean you can just barge in think that!" Steven exclaims louder. "You would have done it too if you were fronting." Marc grumbles, "Don't be mad about me checking up on your little weirdo next door." he remarks.

"Hey. At least they look better. Huh, Steven?" Jake proclaims trying to calm Steven down.

🩸🩸🩸

You stood in your flat, gobsmacked by what had just transpired in front of you for a few seconds.

That was him. That was MoonKnight. The hero of the moon that you've been having witty banter with for the past few months and coming across again and again.

If you could still have heart attacks, no doubt, you would have had one right there. You thought that maybe he still had his suspicions about you and had started tracking you from afar and had learned who you were, where you lived, and now seen you steal the meat from Steven's fridge.

You didn't want to resort to doing that. Steven was nice to you. You would never want to steal from him in any other circumstance. But you haven't been catching any criminals to drink from for weeks now, and it was starting to take a toll on you. Stealing meat was the best you could to save yourself from falling into a feeding frenzy and killing someone innocent for the sake of being fed. It might not be as good as blood of any kind, but it did the job of helping you hold out till you could maybe catch a criminal again.

It just so happened that Steven wasn't home while he had his widow open.

You don't know why you went into Steven's flat. Sure, you were a bit delirious to eat and possibly took the first opportunity you had, but you still remembered that Steven was vegan. So there was no chance that he would have meat at all. But strangely enough, he did have it in his fridge.

Maybe he just doesn't eat it but was planning on cooking some for a friend. Except that thought made you feel a bit more guilty for eating all his meat.

You hadn't really dwelled too much on it. You just focused on getting back into your flat and cleaning yourself up from having scarfed down your gross meal and then getting yourself back into your coffin for your rest before daylight broke and ran the chance of burning you.

Something you should get to doing now. You can act surprised and shocked about the story when Steven sees you again and tells you all about it.

[smallestapplin]

So! Bit of a long one but here we go!!

Emmet enemies to lovers!!

Emmet has a rival that he can’t stand! But as he continues to battle them and thusly spend time with them, feelings blossom and he starts to become friends, and then more with the rival!

However!! Before he can do more than recognize his feelings of love, the reader is eebied to Hisui!! Maybe even right in front of him!!

He’s left devastated! Desperate to see them again, because he loves them!!

And they return! After long, lonely months, they come back and finally Emmet has the chance to tell them his feelings!!

What do you think?

I tried! And I hope this turns out well ^^

Cw : hate is said a lot at the end, just in case.

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Emmet always had issues properly expressing his true feelings, or putting them into words, maybe that’s why he didn’t like you.

You were Ingo’s friend and got along perfectly with the older twin. But Emmet didn’t like feeling he was being pushed aside, even if he wasn’t. So, he’d demand battles from you at every turn, you couldn’t take ten steps without the smiling twin stepping in front of you, demanding you battle him.

It was infuriating, you couldn’t visit your friend without his brother being a pain.

Worse yet you two were evenly matched.

One battle you’d win, and he’d be livid and then demand another.

The next he’d win and shove it in your face.

The only reason you didn’t say ‘screw the battle, what are your stats’ is because Ingo begged and pleaded with you, swearing his brother isn’t always like this.

You believed him, you truly did, but thought it wouldn’t be that way between you and Emmet.

Your relationship changed when Ingo got sick, he couldn’t stand without falling over, and his fever made him delirious at times. Elesa was out of the region, and Emmet didn’t have anyone else he could ask for help.

That’s when he called you from Ingo’s phone, after a quick doctor visit of course.

He knew you wouldn’t answer a random number, but he had to speak quickly before you hung up on him. He was surprised to see you already at his and Ingo’s house, arms filled with flu-friendly food and medicine. It allowed him to go to work and keep the subway running, knowing Ingo was in your care.

You’d text him throughout the day, letting him know how Ingo was doing. He’d come home to Ingo either asleep and you on the couch, or you in Ingo’s room feeding him soup. However, it left you and Emmet plenty of alone time.

You’d either make dinner or order takeout and watch tv together, finding out you two had more in common than previously thought. You’d two laugh, and share stories, to a comfortable point you’d ask him how his day at work was.

Your friendship was slow going, but after Ingo got better, he was surprised to see you two not at each other’s throats, but the want for battles never stopped, the only difference was Emmet would get excited and ask instead of demand.

Your rivalry was truly something Emmet adores and wanted more than anything. It was a nice change of pace for you two to be seen alone, laughing and joking around.

His feelings for you came as a shock to himself.

It changed him.

You noticed how he’d flip between how he used to be with you, to how he is now.

It got to the point you messaged him.

‘Hey, I know it’s late, and you just got off work, but can we talk tomorrow? At that café, we both like, preferably.’

His heart sank at that message, but he knew it was only a matter of time.

‘Sure! Time?’

‘Maybe around lunchtime?’

‘That works!’

The next day he went to that cafe like you asked, he got there early just to make sure he could practice what he was going to say.

He waited.

And waited.

And waited.

He checked his phone, noticing you were an hour late without so much as a text.

‘I am Emmet. I'm here.’

‘Are you okay?’

Still nothing, he sat there for hours, waiting for you, constantly looking out the window, hoping he’d see you running up and apologizing for being late.

He’d look up the second the bell chimes, only to be disappointed when it’s not you.

‘Everything okay?’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Where are you?’

Every message he sent you never saw, but it says it went through. He could feel his anxiety growing worse by the second, so he called you.

It goes right to voicemail.

He can’t stand it anymore.

He stayed there for nearly five hours, and you didn’t show up.

You must hate him.

He went back home, knowing Ingo would already be back from work, but yet… it was quiet.

His life was changed in only a day, as two missing persons reports went out, one for you, and one for Ingo. What Emmet wants to tell changes The longer you’re gone.

Ingo is found many months later in strange clothes, and no memory, but his brother is here and alive. All that’s left is you. Emmet focused on work and helping his brother, being more than happy he finally came home. But the emotional part of him asks, why does Ingo get to have more stories of you, than him?

News of your return is the talk of Unova, how you appeared limp on the ground in ancient clothes and scars. He figured you’d be in the hospital for a while, given how the news spoke of your injuries. He’s already waited a year for you, what’s a few more days?

Imagine his shock when he opens the door on his day off, and you’re standing right there, covered in bandages when you should be resting.

But given your history, he isn’t even sure what to do.

“You’re…you’re back.” Despite the lack of emotion in his voice, you can hear the quiver in it.

“Emmet-“

“I waited, you know, I sat there at the café and waited. Where were you?” His vision clouds with tears.

You can’t give him an answer, cause even you don’t know who would believe you.

“I still waited, hoping you’d come back like it’s all a sick joke.”

“Em, can we please go inside? I can explain everything.” You step forward, wiping the tears that fall from his cheeks.

He doesn’t move, only leaning into your touch as he sobs.

“I hate you, I hate you so much! I hate how stubborn you are! Hate how you just think you can come back as if nothing happened! Hate how you made me worry! I hate that I love you, and you left! H-how could you?”

You pull him into a hug, letting the smiling man hold you tightly as he cries into your shoulder. You can’t stop tears of your own from soaking into his shirt, you both sob your hearts out, clinging to each other as if the other would disappear again.

“I don’t hate you…I can’t.”

“I know. I missed you so much, I was so scared.”

You both stayed there for several more minutes until you two had the strength to stand. He pulls you into his home, closing the door behind you.

“Now, let’s hear those stories!”

You chuckle softly, “Oh boy, do I have a lot.”

Despite everything.

You squeeze his hand.

This might be the start of something wonderful.

[woopyayayayayay]

My perfect love for all these years.

(Muzan x insecure!fem!reader)

(Reminder that it might not be good bc it's like 11pm when in writing and I haven't written in a while, I'm mainly writing for me bc I need this scenario, I was inspired at the snow part by another writter but I can't find their name. I'll stop rambling LMAO)

______

A thousand years ago, in the Heian Era.

Muzan and me where and arranged marriage. He was sick and I proved my wifely duties by helping him with whatever he needed, even though there were servants that could help, he seemed to not take his temper out on me, after we officially married, I fell for him quickly, I wasn't ready for his fate, that's why I helped him and forced him to take his medicine. Sometimes I really had to convince him.

"You need to take this." I have the bowl in my hand, filled with his medication from his "lousy doctor". "I refuse, it never does anything, that doctor just wants to see me die at this point." That broke my heart at his words, I wasn't ready to accept it. "Please.. you need to take this. Don't speak like that." I frown as he try and reason with him, I almost felt tears in my eyes. I loved him, I knew the medicine wouldn't help but I could always hope. "Absolutely not, him not taking that disgusting medicine." He told me, him sitting on his futon, panting as the sickness was getting worse. I couldn't stand to see him like this. "If you don't take this medicine I'm going to force you to, or you could just take the medicine. Please, muzan, I love you, I can't see you like this." It was true, I loved him so much that he felt he didn't deserve this. He hesitantly grabbed the bowl from my hands and drank every drop, he didn't like seeing his wife sad, especially at the thought of losing him. He gave up hope but, he would try, for his wife. "There, now leave, you insufferable woman." He said, placing the wooden bowl in the space between us. I slightly smiled at his comment, he meant "I love you" and I knew it. I grabbed the bowl and put it back onto my lap, my hands on either side as I sand up. "Thank you, for finally listening." I smile sweetly at him before walking away. I can see his eye roll to the side as he watches me leave, he never wants me to actually leave but he never tells me to come back.

☆

When winter came, he felt bad about not being able to go outside. He was too weak to touch it, feel it on his skin as he stared at it through the door. I walked into where he was, he was sitting on his futon, looking out the door at the white, fluffy snow. "Is something wrong, dear?" I ask him politely. "No, just let me watch the snow." He told me, he didn't even face me. I walked out the door and intot he snow, my socks and bottom of my kimono was covered in snow and I kneel, picking up a pile of the fluffy snow in my hand as I walk fasting over to him. He looked up at me, I bit confused as to why he had a pile of snow infront of him, my hands shivering in cold but I smiled softly. "You can touch it now." I tell him, his weak hand touches the mound of snow in my hands, the small peice he grabbed melted in his hand, between his fingers as water drips down them. He smiled slightly. He kept touching and feeling the snow until it was gone. He still kept that smile on his face as he looked up at me, my hands on my kimono, trying to make them warn as I grip the cloth on me. "Did you enjoy it?" I ask, the smile still on my face "..yes, thank you.." He tells me, he slightly moved to the right of his futon. "Sit down woman." It felt like an order, I sat down next to him as we both watched the snow for hours, silent as we watch it fall.

□■

I ran into his room one day, a bowl in my hands, I was sure this would work. I had too. "Please, please drink this!" I tell him as a i place the bowl infront of him. "You know it does nothing, right?" He asks me, genuinely confused as to why I was begging him so much to drink the medicine, maybe it was poison. "Please, I have so much hope in this one. Just one last time, muzan, please." I beg him as I slide the bowl towards him a bit. He knew that i would never poison him, but it was a possibility. He accepted the risk and moved to bowl to his lips, he drank it and then placed it in its original place, on the floor. "There." He said to me, looking in my eyes, he didn't feel poisoned, he saw genuine hope in my eyes. Definitely not poison.

♡

When I was peacefully sleeping on my futon, it was still night when I felt my door open and then close. I force my eyes open and I see muzan, standing infront of me. It seemed his sickness almost disappeared, he had blood on his hands, and his clothes, a small bit on his lips as he looked down at me, he could tell I was a bit shaken, he kneeled infront of me.

"Do not fear, love, I wouldn't hurt you." He tells me, I look into his eyes, the circles where no longer there, replaced with lines that almost looked like slits, his long wavy hair lies free on his shoulders and down his back. "what.. what happened?" I asked him, he medicine seemed to work but, why the blood. Muzan explained what he found out, he was sensitive to the sun, his sickness was gone, he has to feed on human flesh to survive. This all happened when I was asleep? "Would you like to join me on this journey?" He asked, still kneeling as offered. I could only nod.

◇

The present.

I stayed by his side everyday, him being the strongest person in know, literally. I was his demon "queen". I looked exactly like I did when I was human. He loved me and I loved him. He was the only man I ever loved, however, I didn't feel like a "queen". Queens were beautiful, I was suprised He was even attracted to me back then. I couldn't think these thoughts when he was around, he could read my mind, literally. I only thought them in the mirror, when he was at a meeting or working on a experiment.

Sometimes I would cry looking at myself, not knowing why such a beautiful man would keep me around. We still looked the same as when we were human, small changes like the black of our eyes became slits and he cut his hair, he was beautiful as always. One day, I slipped up.

I was crying over my looks as I was only covered by my undergarments as I sat on the futon, tears running down my face, thoughts spiraling in my mind. I didn't hear when he came into the room, he watched from the door, he didn't read my mind, he felt to sad to do so. Why was she crying? He asked himself as he walked closer, standing to my side as he placed a hand on my shoulder. I flinched at the action, he sat by my side, frowning. I wipe my tears fast as I look at him, shocked that he saw me like this. "What's wrong, my dear?" He asked genuinely, he didn't know what was wrong, he didn't want to read my mind, he would only if I didn't tell him.

"It's nothing, I swear." I say as I look at him, my tear stained cheeks said otherwise. "I don't like when you lie to me. Tell me whats wrong." He said a bit demanding but trying to be as gentle as possible, he had very seen you cry, not once. "I.. I don't feel pretty enough for you, why would you keep me around if I look so, unattractive..?" I ask him as I look into his eyes. His eyes seemed to soften more. "Your the most perfect woman in the world. I wouldn't want anyone to be by my side than you." He told me. I didn't believe him. "Your just saying that because I'm married to you." I shake my Head. "Darling, you should know I don't just 'say stuff.' I mean every word I tell you. Your my perfect love for all these years." He tells me with a straight face. Completely serious. "I... I just don't see what you see in me." I look away again, it broke his heart to see me like this, how long had this been going on? "Look at me. Your body is art, I don't want everyone else's. Your face is absolutely divine, I don't want to see anyone else's. Your mine, and I don't own anything that isn't perfect." He tells me as he grips my hands. Maybe he was right.?

[rinrinx2]

Ok so we all know that shinichiro is a big family guy. He loves his family and would love to have kids with his s/o. So I wanted to request a fic where reader and shin are married and are trying for a baby but it hasn’t been successful so they go to a doctor to see what’s wrong. It turns out that reader can’t have kids. Obviously she didn’t know but it’s heartbreaking for them. Reader has been depressed after thinking that shin would leave her. Shin wouldn’t leave her because he loves her and comforts her.

Hope you like it♡

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6: 45

Shinichiro x reader

Warnings: Kinda angst, Straight up sadness, Fluff at the end.

It must of been some sick joke your mind was playing on you as the words of the doctor played over and over in your mind like some tormenting movie that you were forced to watch.

"I'm sorry Mrs Sano but you're unable to bare a child"

The clear expression of the doctor with her soft saddened smile as she revealed the reason why you were struggling to fall pregnant etched into your memory. The image only causing more tears to spill from your eyes.

Your heart was sucken to the deepest pits within unable to come to terms that you would never have a child. You would never be able to hold a being that you carried for 9 months in your arms, you would never be a mother and to make it worst Shinichiro would never be a father.

You knew how important family was to Shinichiro, and how much he wanted one of his own. So, now with this reality presented infront of you, you knew what would be the outcome causing you to cry even more as you mourned a child you would never know.

'It's only a matter of time' your mind told you.

Your knew that once you would break the news to Shinichiro that soon, he would depart permanent from you. What was the use of being with a woman who couldn't even provide such a basic need and you would be alone child barren and with no hand to hold or shoulder to cry on.

The thought alone causing more tears to fall like a crashing wave on the rough rocks of the shore.

So heartbroken that you hadn't even heard your husband enter what was supposed to be your shared bedroom.

"Hey (Y/N) you see my wrench" he asked looking over at your figure. Your figure that was hunched over, with your hands covering your beautiful face as the most heart breaking sobs emitted from your lips.

Quickly Shinichiro moved to sit beside you, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull your closer, as you peaked through your fingers to see the worried expression on his face causing fresh tears to spill like a waterfall.

"What's wrong (Y/N)" Shinichiro asked softly waiting for your response; but he waited in vain as he was only met with silence and the sound of your tears.

"Are you sad because I ate the last pudding"

"I'm sorry I ate the last pudding I didn't mean to but I was so hungry and work was running late so I just-"

"I'm not sad about the pudding" you sniffled out with a laugh. Even when you were sad he was able to make you laugh, you would miss this quality of his so much, the thought alone drowning out the laughter that had escaped your lips.

"Then what's bothering you (Y/N)?" Shinichiro asked again.

You could hear the worry in his voice as he asked, and it only made your heart break further. How cruel it would be to break the news to him, like snatching away the kne joy he wanted.

"I dont wanna say you'll hate me" you said through tears.

"Come on (Y/N) there's nothing in this world you could do that would make you hate me, okay maybe if you ate the last pudding I'd be upset but I'd never hate you"

And as you heard Shinichiro words your confidence came back slowly, and yet there was still apart of your mind that told you that once you told him he would never be the same, he would never be yours again. Yet you knew it would be selfish to keep him in a world full of delusions only to one day have it ripped from below his feet.

So,with a deep breath and a mind full of doubt, you slowly removed your hands from your face. Your eyes now starring into his his as you spoke yourself into the future that you were terrified to be in.

"I can't have a child" You said hurriedly, forcing the words to come out in one breath.

"You mean you don't want one" Shinichiro said his eyes flickering down, his face painted with disappointment and hurt and you knew now what would be his next words.

'It's going to happen now' your mind said preparing you for the moment he would say he no longer wished to share a bed with you or a life.

"I thought you we agreed that we'd have a child and we'd have our own little family, could you please tell me why you don't want a child anymore?"

"Shinichiro it's not that I don't want one, I physically can't have one. The doctor said I'm unable to bare a child" You said as the repeated words of the doctor reached your ears again now coming from your own voice causing tears to spill once again.

Now both the pain of not being able to have a child and the stark realization that your husband was going to leave you were the reasons for the trail of tears streaming down your cheeks.

"(Y/N) I know this must be a very difficult thing for you to hear, and I want you to know that I'll be here for you, I'll be someone who you can really on for support, a hand to hold and shoulder to cry on when things feel to tough, I'll always be here for (Y/N) ... and as for us, we'll be fine. Just because you can't have a child doesn't mean we can't have one. We can adopt a child and as long as we love and care for it, it doesn't matter if it's not biologically ours or not as long as we have each other that's all that matter" Shinichiro said as his hand grabbed yours as his eyes starred into yours.

"You're not going to leave me?" You quietly asked, the fear of him still leaving you still heavily sitting on your mind.

"I didn't marry you to be a breeding machine, I married you because I wanted you to the the first person I see in the morning and the last at night. I married you because I love you and I don't want to live a life where you're not in it. I don't care about the rest, I just want you (Y/N).

And finally for the first time that day a smile finally appeared on your face at hearing Shinichiro's words.

Slowly your arms wrapped around his shoulders embracing him in a hug. You truly had married the kindest man in the world willing to accept and love you no matter what. No matter the hardships he would be beside you.

"I love you, Shinichiro"

"I love you too, (Y/N) ... besides now I don't need to use a rubber when we do it.

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All rights reserved to @rinrinx2

[thisismy-username]

(Warning)

Mention of eating disorder, depression, Suicide, and BPD.

Too be honest, I don't know if I find any point in being here. I feel like a monster, a psychopath. I get called out for my ways after I warn them. It's tiring, because why are they still here to make themselves suffer.

This isn't about just one person, it's anyone; really. There's someone who thinks they can help me to get better but they all end up getting hurt. I told them but they still stick around. I tried pushing them away but a lot of them don't want to go.

I know I shouldn't be friends with anyone or have a lover. But I have so much desire to live and receive that love. I don't know why all of them expect me to apologize. I warned you, I told you, and I don't really know if I am.

I've done this to so many people, and I apologized so many times. I never know why people stay around to cause them pain, especially when I warned them. Over and over.

If I really am a monster then maybe I shouldn't be here anymore. I don't really want to be here and I have no reason too. I finally want to do what I want to do.

I'm not really passionate on anything. I have no motivation to study what I'm interested in, and if so I just have no motivation to be passionate. I don't really feel needed here, so I really don't care if I go.

I think It would be better for others to move away from me. I haven't been texting anyone so I can push them away appropriately. When I get back too school I'll probably be distant as usual.

I don't think anyone deserves to be with me. I'm a pretty bad person, which I was told by other. I've been struggling with my BPD and I only think it's getting worse.

I can't go through a day without having a episode. It makes me so upset that I can't get rid of it or fix myself.

Also my doctor told me I have Bulimia, I can't stop throwing up after I binge eat. I also get sick every time something hurts me emotionally.

I ruined my life so much, I was getting better but now I'm worse, I don't know what too do.

So, I'm gonna take a break for a while, thank you for supporting me.