#I think i am experiencing some symptoms of blood loss

[platypusisnotonfire]

lol whoops wondering why my foot occasionally twinged today (I was heavily hyper focused so the concept that pain of some sort was breaking through the hyper focus should have told me something) turns out I ripped open the huge cut in my toe that I got from accidentally kicking the saw the other day. Shoe entirely soaked with blood. Well. That happened.

[deansapplepie]

You couldn’t lose each other

Summary: You were pregnant, then you weren’t.

Warnings: ANGST, pregnancy, miscarriage, mention of character death, mention of “putting someone down”, soft Merle, on purpose asshole Daryl, blood, hurt, mental instability, hurt, stubborn main characters, loss, grief, and maybe more. 18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

A/N: I never experienced miscarriage and am writing everything based on my knowledge through series, movies, soap operas and books, so it may have inaccuracies. If you are sensible to any of those topics please don’t read, your mental health is more important!

It had started about a week ago, heavy dizziness and morning sickness (which didn’t happen exactly only in the morning). On top of that your period was late, which you tried to atribute to the sub nutrition all of you went through while on the road, but as soon as other symptoms started… you knew it was probably other thing.

You went on a run with Daryl to get more baby formula for Jude and just discreetly added a pregnancy test on your backpack, in a part you hoped Daryl wouldn’t look because he never did. As soon as you got to the prison and had some alone time you risked yourself going somewhere, no one would see you or find you, to pee on the damn thing and find the truth. The truth was… you knew it, you didn’t need a test, you were undoubtedly and very much pregnant.

One end of afternoon, Merle sat by your side and didn’t bother to tip toe around you. “When are ya gonna tell ‘im?”

“What?” He took you back with his question.

“When are ya telling my brother ya’re with his baby?” Your eyes widened at his question. “Daryl ain’t the only one with observation skills. Who ya think taught him everything? I saw the symptoms and the pregnancy test you hid on your pocket the other day.”

“Fuck you Dixons.”

“Ya already do it to one of us.” He sassy replied, you rolled your eyes as usually happened during your banters.

“Soon. I’m just waiting the whole governor thing end. He already has too much to worry about, he’ll freak out if I tell him now. He’ll probably put me on bubble of safety and not let me do anything.” You stated, Daryl could have the rough exterior but both of you knew how he was, how he cared about people. Also he had changed so much the last months, and it was for the better. “Don’t tell him, let me do it.”

“Al’ight.” He surprised you, you had learned how to deal with Merle, but he wasn’t the same asshole as before. Still an asshole though. “It’ll be good have a mini Dixon around. I’ll help to keep ya’ll safe.”

“I know, you can be a jerk sometimes but I know you care about your family.” You gave the older Dixon a small smile and squeezed his hand to reassure him. That had been one of the nicest things he ever told you and coming from Merle, that was a lot.

The governor had asked for Michonne to leave your group alone, you didn’t believe a word of it it, but Merle did or at least he had to try. That morning he disappeared with her and all of you knew what he was up to. Daryl went after them, you wanted to go too but of course he wouldn’t “allow” you.

Some time after, Michonne arrived, alone. You asked about Merle and Daryl, and she told everything that happened with Merle. He had set her free and went by himself. It wouldn’t end up well, you could feel it in your guts, and your feeling just confirmed to be true when Daryl arrived alone.

Everyone gathered around him to know what happened and he told you with teary eyes. The others left to give both of you some time.

“Daryl, I’m sorry.” You said, both of your hands cupping his face, he averted your eyes. “Hey, look at me.”

“Leave me alone…” he grumply answered trying to get out of your grasp.

“We’re together in this, huh? I’m here for you, we both cared about Merle.” He snorted.

“Ya cared about Merle? Ya never liked him!”

That wasn’t true, he knew it wasn’t. He was hurt, he had to put his brother down, there wasn’t anyone else that could do it for him, even if there was… it had to be him. Somehow, in his abused mind, he thought it was all his fault. Merle died because he wanted to be a better person, he wanted to protect his little brother as much as he could in this fucked up world, and that was the way he found to do it. It was just a matter of time for you to do the same and it would be entirely his fault if you ended like Merle. You were the last thing he had from the old world. You were the only good thing he had, and if he had to push you away to keep you alive, that was what he was going to do, because he couldn’t afford living in a world without you.

“This isn’t true, Daryl. You’re hurting, I get it…” he cut your speaking before you could finish.

“Ya don’t. Ya never will!” He distanced himself when you tried to touch his arm. “We should break up.”

“What?!”

“Ya heard it.” He confirmed.

“Ok, when you’re not speaking no sense we can talk, I know you’re not ok, but there’s a limit of shit I can take.” You wouldn’t continue to insist on it if he was going to continue acting like that. You knew he was suffering, but so were you and he was being a prick.

“There ain’t gonna be another talk. I said what I said.” Those words left his mouth as if they were nothing, but each of them felt like a knife in his throat.

“Is it really the moment for you to dump me?” You knew he was emotionally unstable, no one make good decisions like this.

“Did I stutter?” The moment he threw the harsh words, he knew he had got what he wanted, the hurt in your eyes pained in his chest and this time he was sure he had lost you for good.

Since that day, you didn’t talk to him and he also ignored you. You asked Rick to not put you both working together anymore. You moved your things to Carol’s cell, now also your cell. Woodbury had fallen, now the survivors of the town had joined you at the prison.

Your little secret was still yours, or sort of… Carol was a mother. She went through all the shit you were going through, all of you saw Lori going through it. She knew it already, but didn’t tell you anything until one week after everything that happened.

She asked you, “aren’t you telling him?”

This time you didn’t even got surprised and already knew what she was talking about. “No.”

“And when it starts to show?”

“I’ll tell I just fucked someone and was too drunk to remember.” You stubbornly replied.

“You’re being childish, he deserves to know.” She was right, but you were tired and emotionally damaged already.

“ ‘cause he’s being a fucking kid too. I get it, he’s suffering, but he needs to stop hurting people every time he’s hurt. It’s time he grows up and man up.” You said arms crossed.

“You know his past better than I, I thought you from all the people would understand.” The older woman wisely said.

“Carol, I appreciate your concern, he’s your friend too, but you don’t understand.” You said, was it you? Was it the hormones? You couldn’t know. “Please, don’t tell him. It’s not your place to do it.”

“I won’t. You’re the one that should do it.” As soon as she answered, she left you alone.

One week later, or a little more, it seemed like Rick had forgotten his promise that he wouldn’t put you ti work with Daryl as he put both of you on fence duty to kill the walkers. Ok, there were more people with you, but you couldn’t help but feel yourself being watched and you knew the weight of his stare. You could feel it in your soul. Also, you couldn’t help yourself and from time to time look at him, because you would be a liar if you said you didn’t love him anymore or that you didn’t find him handsome and attractive, and what’s beautiful was made to look at.

It was middle of the morning, even though it was starting to get cold the sun was strong for whoever was working under it. You had sweat and few stains of blood from the walkers you had killed through the fence. You were feeling extra tired, you thought it was because pregnant women got more sleepy, so you didn’t think about it so much.

Some minutes after you felt a sharp pain on your lower stomach. Weird. ‘Please let it just be a stomachache or gases’, you thought.

You continued working then you felt the pain in the same place but sharper. ‘Please, don’t let it be anything with my baby’, you thought again.

You kept doing your job, this time more slowly as you felt the pain irradiating through your body, until you felt a stabbing pain in the same place and something hot going down your legs. You looked down and saw blood. “NO!”

You shouted and that called people’s attention Daryl’s specially. He looked at you and all he could see was blood. Did you hurt yourself with the weapon? Did the governor came back and wounded you? Did somehow a walker managed to bite you?

“Nooo-hooo-ooo.” You shouted cried throwing yourself to the ground.

In seconds he was kneeling by your side. “Hey, hey, look at me. What is it? What happened, doll?”

“I lost it.” You said, crying more at your realization. “I lost it.”

“What did ya lose, babe?” He asked, he thought you were delirious due to the blood loss. His hands around your face trying to make you look at him, trying to ground you. He was panicking, where were you hurt? Was he going to loose you anyway and he had spent the last weeks loosing his time with you?

You cried. “Our baby, I lost our baby.” You said between sobs.

It hit him like a punch on his stomach. You said your baby, a baby from both of you, a baby he didn’t know existed, a baby that… his abused mind played with him again. A baby that could be possibly gone because of him. “Stay with me, love. I’m taking care of you.” Who were you? Just you? You and the baby? Was there any chance this was a weird bleeding but the baby would still be ok? He didn’t know. He knew nothing about it.

He didn’t think twice, he took you in his arms and started running. “HERSHEL!” He yelled the doctor’s name again and again, until he found him and had you in the infirmary.

Before getting to the infirmary you had passed out, maybe it was the shock or it could also be the blood loss, you���d never know.

Hershel examined you. Daryl stayed all the time by your side, making questions to the doctor. Teary eyes while he explained everything. You were indeed pregnant, and yes, you had lost the baby. Daryl’s hopes were shattered at pieces, he cried. He the big rough man that didn’t like to show his emotions cried, it was Hershel. He was a friend. He was family after all.

After making sure nothing had stayed in your uterus, the old man had a talk with the younger one. Hershel made sure Daryl knew it wasn’t his fault, at this point he already knew the archer well and knew he was guilting himself for it. He ensured it was something that could happen at this early stage, you were at the maximum 2 months pregnant according to the tissue your body expelled from you. That small tissue was what would be your baby. The feeding poor in nutrients could have harmed your body, it was pretty much a disorder in your uterus so that happened. There was no one to blame, besides the end of the world.

Some time had passed when you woke up, you were as much as clean as they could got you and you had warm feeling on your right hand. You looked to your side and you saw Daryl worried and guilty eyes.

“It’s not your fault.” You said. You remembered everything.

“Maybe.” He said, even if Hershel had already reassured him. “But it doesn’t make it less worse. I could have lived it with ya for the little time we had.”

“I was the one that didn’t tell you.” You turned to your side and extended your left arm till you were touching his face. “I’m sorry.”

“I AM sorry.” He said giving emphasis to that. “I… I dun know what I was thinking.”

“I know.” You knew he was lost at that moment, but it didn’t hurt you less when he pushed you away and both of you needed each other. “Merle wasn’t your fault. The baby neither.”

At the mention of Merle’s name and the baby, your voice quivered and the tears threatened to leave your eyes, and they did. They fell from your eyes and you couldn’t do anything about it. “I ain’t pushing ya away anymore. I… I was so afraid of losing ya too.” Tears also slipped on his face.

“Merle was happy, he knew he was going to be an uncle.” You remembered the conversation you had with him the day before he sacrificed himself. “He noticed it and asked me about it. I was going to tell you when the governor shit was over.”

You also felt guilty about Merle’s death. You knew sometimes he didn’t take some smart decisions, but did he tried to face it all alone because he also wanted to be a better person to his nephew or niece? He had told you he would protect all of you.

You sobbed. You both cried together, now your arms thrown around his neck and your face hiding in it. You both had lost too much already, you couldn’t afford losing anything else. You couldn’t lose each other.

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[smellybead]

OP do you have the essay about how Morro died 👀

Let me access my google docs really quick

Ok bear in mind I am not very good at writing shit and I'm not very good at chemistry but I think I did ok when I wrote this

After leaving Master Wu in search of his destiny and to prove his old master and the Golden Weapons wrong, Morro died in the Caves of Despair while seeking out the First Spinjitsu Master’s Tomb. He died after being trapped in a chamber full of the gas ‘kethanol’ - from a geyser in the chamber. Kethanol is a fictional gas that is extremely flammable and explosive and is released from deep well mining (this information was provided by Zane upon the ninja entering the caves of Despair - S5 EP7, Crooked Paths). While kethanol is not a real gas in our world, we can relate it back to gases that do exist for us and their effects on the human body by examining the location and circumstances of the gas.

So from the information given, we can correlate kethanol back to two likely examples of gas that would exist in a similar environment: hydrogen sulfide (H2S) and carbon monoxide (CO). H2S is a largely natural occurring gas, usually produced when bacteria breaks down organic material (typically in bogs and swamps, hence why it is also referred to as ‘swamp gas’). However, H2S can also be produced by volcanoes, hot springs, thermal vents, and geysers. CO can be sourced from geysers and coal mining. So both of these gases are comparable to kethanol.

And of course, being a fictional gas, kethanol could have drastically different effects on the human body than the gases stated, but these can give us the best guess on how Morro would have been affected in the cave chamber.

Now, in geysers, CO and H2S usually only make up a small amount of the different gases being released and only really occur in minor quantities. However, the composition of gases in spring waters located in fresh, hot volcanic areas is typically quite different. In cases like these, CO is known to be even more prevalent than CO2 (which is usually the most prominent gas). And in some areas, H2S makes up about 20% of active gases. We can consider the chamber in the Caves of Despair volcanic as in the episode ‘Crooked Paths’ (again, S5 EP7), the ninja barely made it out as the geyser violently erupted, spilling lava everywhere.

CO poisoning is generally quite a common issue and in a few cases, where it is allowed to continue to enter the body for longer, results in death. When there is too much CO in the air, your body begins replacing the oxygen in your red blood cells with CO. Depending on the concentration and the size of the person, CO poisoning typically takes about two hours to occur. Symptoms include things such as dizziness, disorientation, nausea/vomiting, chest pain, headaches and weakness but can eventually lead to unconsciousness, seizures, arrhythmias (irregular beating of the heart), and death. A few severe cases of CO poisoning may also involve the skin turning a bright “cherry-red” colour. 

Similarly to CO, large concentrations of H2S can quickly lead to death. While lower amounts of the gas may only result in headaches, loss of appetite, sleep troubles, slight eye and throat irritation, and nausea, strong amounts can lead to staggering, collapse within as little as five minutes (or even nearly instantly if the concentration is at extremely high levels), significant damage to the eyes, and death within 30-60 minutes.

The fatal effects of these two gases are very likely along the lines of what Morro’s death was like. It could have been a mix of these symptoms, or even wildly different but these results can lead us to a decent conclusion of what he would have been experiencing in his final moments.

He makes me so mentally ill /affectionate

[intersex-support]

I've been recording symptoms of lack of estrogens in my body. I started puberty when I was 11 and i am now 15, yet my body seems to be giving big signs of not producing estrogens enough: missed periods, little blood loss, painful periods, lack of curves in my body, lack of breasts, androgynous face and voice. I started to consider having a hormonal imbalance and so what I found was PCOS, but there's a problem: I don't see many signs in my body that might indicate a high production of androgens. I don't have lots of body hair* and I don't have acne at all.

What could it be? I doubt that my puberty is just "late", as I already said. Or at least, at this point its a bit... suspicious...

* I do have body hair , but it's in a regular amount (at least compared to my friend it seems...)

Hi anon!

So as always, we cannot diagnose or give medical advice.

I can see why you might be wondering if there's any intersex variations that might cause some of the effects on your body that you're seeing during puberty. If you don't think you have any signs of high production of androgens, that rules out several intersex variations. Having a period also rules out some other intersex variations. There also can be a lot of causes for irregular and missed periods that aren't intersex variations, so that might also be important to look into.

I can list out a few variations that might possibly be a place to start looking more into, and the first step would probably be to see if you have any other symptoms and traits listed. All of these are pretty rare, and would require medical tests such as blood tests and genetic tests to diagnose.

FSH Insensitvity. People with this variation have a vulva, vagina, and ovaries, but their bodies do not respond to FSH, and their ovaries produce less estrogen. They might not get a period, and might not go through most parts of an estrogen based puberty.

Turner Syndrome. People with Turner's syndrome have a 45XO chromosome pattern instead of 46 XX. There is also mosaic Turner's, where some cells have 45XO and 46 XX. Turner's syndrome would probably only be relevant to you if you have other symptoms like a short height, congenital heart defects, being HoH/deaf, extra skin on the neck, wide chest, inability to straighten elbow joints, and low hairline. People with Turner's don't usually have a period without HRT, but sometimes people with mosaic Turner's do get a period.

Rarer and less likely, but Kallmann Syndrome is a form of hypogonadism where your body produces lower levels of hormones. Another key symptom is just completely missing a sense of smell, so if you don't have a sense of smell, that would be a sign.

Other causes of irregular periods that are not intersex but might be useful to look into are endometriosis and thyroid issues.

Overall, I think it would probably helpful to do some more research and figure out if you have another symptoms if this is something you're interested in exploring. If you don't have many other traits, it might be helpful to look into non-intersex causes of the things you're experiencing.

Truly wishing you the best of luck, anon!

[whentherewerebicycles]

okay. i promised myself i would do some long reflective journaling to sort through some Big Feelings and I keep kicking the can down the road because idk sometimes you don't want to sort through the Big Feelings in case you don't like what you find there. but I have a morning of uninterrupted time and I am in a good headspace and I think I will just write through some stuff under the cut.

it sure looks like i might be having a baby next summer, which means that things are moving out of the hypothetical realm and into the realm of being Very Real. so i am experiencing the expected levels of "oh shit oh shit oh shit i am about to be responsible for a living being???" that i imagine all prospective parents experience. more than that, though, i think i am having to confront the reality of single parenthood in a more emotional way than i was expecting! and this is partly because it might be about to become real for me, but also because some people i love very much who are very close to me are pregnant now too, and i am watching them live an experience of pregnancy that is very different from the one i've had thus far and much closer to the socially "normal" path. and i think that is surfacing some unexamined and semi-unexpected feelings of grief/loss for me as well as a complicated mix of horrible bridge troll jealousy feelings. i want to write through some of that so i can get a better handle on what i'm feeling instead of letting the big emotions unexpectedly avalanche over me at random times.

let me think first about my own experience of getting pregnant.

I'm glad I am pregnant and I am extra, extra grateful that things are going well thus far after experiencing a pregnancy loss this summer that kind of turned me inside out for a while. I also know that despite how excruciatingly drawn-out this process has felt, I was able to get pregnant a lot faster/easier than many people are and I don't take that for granted. but man oh man I think getting pregnant via assisted reproduction can really fuck with your head and heart in ways I wasn't anticipating when I started this process a little over a year ago. everything is so intensely medicalized. my life has just been going to appointments and getting ultrasounds and having blood drawn and giving myself hormone shots and undergoing painful medical procedures and healing from an emergency surgery and reading medical journals and swallowing pills and recording symptoms in a tracking journal. I don't feel like I've spent this year preparing for and then actively trying to conceive a child; i feel like I've spent this year receiving intensive treatment for a medical condition (not being pregnant) that requires obsessive anxious monitoring and might be rooted in some deeper flaw or failing in my body. almost no part of this experience has felt private, intimate, precious, spontaneous, joyful, sacred, sexy, or fun in any way. it's all felt mediated by doctors and by an incredibly expensive industry that jacks up the prices knowing most people going this route don't have an alternative (because they're gay or they're single or they have medical conditions that impact their ability to conceive naturally). and the ectopic pregnancy just like intensified and heightened all of that, because all of a sudden i DID have a life-threatening medical condition and all that obsessive monitoring WAS justified and my body HAD fucked up, and everyone afterwards spent a lot of time warning me i'd need to subject myself to even closer monitoring next time because i was at increased risk of it happening again.

idk man it's just been a lot!!!!!! and i think that even though early on I was like "i'm going to try to carve out some part of this experience that can be just mine, separate from the medical aspects of assisted conception," i just kind of failed at doing that. i don't think it's my "fault" or whatever, because idk, there's a lot of cultural pressure to medicalize and pathologize and turn our bodies over to doctors or whatever, and it's hard to swim against the current, especially when you are stressed and spending a lot of money and willing to do whatever an expert tells you to do if it'll get you the thing you want so badly. so i don't blame myself but i also have to acknowledge that i haven't had a very positive experience of trying to get pregnant and i think that the single precious, sacred moment of this whole entire year was when that very kind very gruff tech let me watch the heartbeat on the ultrasound right before the surgery and then went to get warm blankets from the dryer to wrap me in. and maybe also the night that my mom and i had the little burial in the woods. that was it, those were the only sacred moments, and they were moments of deep and wrenching grief, not of joy. even finding out i was pregnant again only a few months after the loss wasn't really a moment of uncomplicated joy, because i was so immediately consumed by anxiety and so instantly sucked back into the vortex of endless medical monitoring. so idk i think i have some unresolved grief around the experience of trying to conceive/early pregnancy i got compared to the one i might've hoped for.

when i found out my SIL was pregnant, in the immediate aftermath of my own loss and on the same timeline i would've been on, i just spent a long time feeling like the most horrible bridge troll version of myself i could possibly imagine. i was just eaten up inside with jealousy and it wasn't just that she was having a joyful, healthy, uncomplicated experience of pregnancy while i was healing from a very raw and painful loss. it was also this feeling that like, she was supposed to be pregnant, she was expected to be pregnant, and the whole world was smiling joyfully upon her pregnancy, and everything was unfolding smoothly for her in ways that it hadn't for me. they're young, they're married, they own a house, they have two good incomes and will easily be able to support a family, she's thin and blond and very pretty, and (while i don't know this for sure) it seemed like they got pregnant for free on almost the first attempt, on the exact schedule they'd decided they wanted to have their first baby. and idk just watching my parents excitedly prepare for their first grandkid and make all these plans for how they'd be involved and coming out to tour fancy daycares with them just sucked! you can be so happy and excited for someone you love and also you can feel like the bitterest, ugliest, most horrid little bridge troll inside. i just felt like, i'm going it alone, i'm older and i have fertility issues that might make it impossible for me to do this, i make less money, i'll never own a house, i don't have a partner, blah blah blah, and even though most of those things are choices i've made about the type of life i want to live, it just felt like... idk. i was just eaten up inside by jealousy!!!! like i know nothing about their experience of trying to conceive or what her experience of pregnancy has been like so far, but my ugly inner troll voice was like, why was it so easy for them and hard for me, why did i have to pour $15,000+ into this process, why did they get to have fun joyful let's-create-a-future-together sex while i had to go to a doctor every other week to get stuck with needles and prodded with ultrasound wands and have an insanely painful cramp-inducing dye injected into my fallopian tubes, and why, WHY did our babies conceived at almost exactly the same time have such different fates.

i mean the answer is just like, this is the world we live in! this is the reality of being a queer person and an unpartnered person who wants a family! these are the life choices we make! this is the randomness of conception outcomes and a healthy dose of plain bad luck! but it was hard (and is hard) to not internalize the differences as like, something is Wrong With Me and something is Right With Them. and i think on the most basic level i was just jealous of their shared joy, and was feeling the ache of, i'm in this by myself, i have to weather this loss by myself, i am the only person who cares about this as deeply as i do. and of course that wasn't wholly true, of course i had my mom and my sister and my closest friends who grieved with me and took such good care of me, but idk. i think it stirred up some feelings about being unpartnered for me that i hadn't really examined all that closely before.

and i think... like... i think that is probably the other big piece that i am going to have to spend time grappling with, maybe for a long time, maybe for the rest of my life! with my students, we often talk about the idea of animating questions, like the big preoccupations you find yourself wrestling with again and again, these questions that won't ever be resolved because they don't have a simple or straightforward answer. they are questions you don't ever answer once and for all, but wrestling with them over the years is what gives shape and meaning to your life as a person on a quest for purpose, for clarity, for deeper understanding. i am carving out a life path for myself that looks different from most of the people around me and i think that sometimes i really really wrestle with the question of, like, does this path represent a failure or a choice? and if i have chosen this path have i made that choice out of cowardice or from a place of strength?

i still have to untangle what i mean here or what i feel around this, but i think like... i don't know... i don't really crave partnership, i don't feel its absence in my adult life, i have cared deeply about past romantic partners as people but i have always felt immensely relieved when relationships end because i get my own space & life back, and i feel like almost all of my human emotional needs for connection are met through my friendships and my work. i like sex and i like the idea of a live-in best friend but i also feel pretty sure that modern dating on the apps is not the avenue through which i would find that person and i don't really know of other ways to go about building relationships like that at this stage in my life. but idk man the cultural PRESSURE you feel to do the expected life path thing is immense!!!! and i think that while most of the time i'm able to set that pressure aside and just live my life, the decision to have a child on my own suddenly reignites all of those uncertainties and some of that shame around like, why isn't this a thing i want, does it mean i am emotionally stunted in some way, will it impact my ability to parent well, blah blah blah.

i suspect i will spend a LOT of time in this next chapter of my life trying to untangle those feelings, so i am not going to put too much pressure on it now!! i just want to begin naming them so they aren't just like, swirling around in the back of my mind seeping into everything. i think what i can say definitively right now is this:

i have never felt a strong impulse towards or yearning for romantic partnership, and thinking about dating mostly just makes me feel tired and like i would be doing it for other people, not for myself. if i really think about it, i can imagine myself in a shared partnership with someone who shares my interests and values and sense of humor, but i truly can't imagine getting there through hinge or bumble or whatever. maybe that is where the sense of tiredness comes from when i think about dating, lol.

that said... i HAVE, for a very long time, felt a very strong impulse towards becoming a parent. i feel nervous about this (money! time! blowing up your life! being responsible for a small person!) but i feel no ambivalence towards it, you know? i want to be a parent and i think i'll be good at being a parent (i mean i am sure i will also feel like i am a Very Bad Parent for much of the time as that seems to be a feature of parenting, but on the whole i feel confident in my ability to provide the love and stability and structure necessary to raise a reasonably happy, well-adjusted kid). i have never been able to imagine a life where i do not become a parent by some route and i feel a deep, wrenching sadness when i imagine a life where i don't raise a family.

i think the sense of total clarity and joy i feel around the choice to parent vs. the profound ambivalence i feel around the idea of dating signals something important! but it is just challenging, you know, to carve out a life for yourself that goes a little or a lot against the grain of what other people's lives look like and what people think would make you happy. i know i am very VERY lucky that over the past five-ish years my parents have gone from being extremely skeptical or worried about my life path to 10000000% supportive and on board and ready to help me make it work. but i also just think i gotta wrestle with the cultural demons in my own head/heart you know!! i am going to have to work hard to get to the point where i feel really secure in my choices!! i know that the horrid bridge troll feelings about other people conceiving easily in the context of happy marriages are normal and okay to feel - it's just human to wish that your own journey was easier, simpler, cheaper, less painful. but i also think that, as liz says all the time, security (in yourself and in your choices) is a gift you give to yourself and everyone around you. i might not be there yet, but i want to work hard to get to a point where i am so secure in the choices i have made that i can experience other people's experiences and choices as simply theirs, not as a reflection or a shaming judgment on mine. i want to be able to say, i am so happy for you, and i am also so happy for me, because we have both worked hard to create the lives we needed and wanted for ourselves, and now we get to live in them. I want to know with total certainty that I, not other people, get to decide what my life means.

but also.... i want to think of this journey not just in terms of Struggling to Make Peace With My Choices but also in terms of like... sometimes taking a different path can produce unexpected joys that people on the regular path won't get to experience. for instance, i can already tell that my mom and my sister are going to be incredibly involved in raising my kid, and that my parents are going to feel an extra sense of responsibility to provide my child with a life that is incredibly rich and full of love. so i am going to have a life that is rich in family relationships, maybe richer than it would've been if i was part of a traditional nuclear family unit. i am going to have to learn to depend on and lean on other people in wholly new ways, which will challenge me (a person who tends towards insularity and independence) to really stretch and grow. i am also going to get to have a different experience of parenting in the home! i am going to have to learn to work things out with my kid without another adult there to help mediate conflicts. we are going to have to figure out how to be a good, functioning team because we are going to have to share responsibility differently than in a two-parent household. and i hope that through this experience i also get to meet and talk with other single parents (something tumblr has already allowed me to start doing!), and i get to develop a deeper, richer understanding of alternative family structures and life paths that don't look like other people's.

i want to be honest: there is some real grief there! i have chosen a life that is different than the one i hazily imagined for myself as a younger person... and already that has meant that i've had a very different experience of trying to conceive/being pregnant than the people closest to me, which has sometimes felt very painful and lonely. and i imagine that as i navigate parenting i will have to keep grappling with the grief of like, living in a culture where it's not "normal" to parent alone, where other people will judge the choices i make, and where i will be missing out on some of the joys of shared childraising i see other people around me experiencing. but i don't know i guess i just have faith in my ability to make meaning out of my life, and i think that the grief will be counterbalanced by joys i'm not able to anticipate from this vantage point because i haven't lived them yet.

and also if i stop for a second and think: would i rather not go down this path at all? the answer comes back to me so clearly and so immediately. of course not. i want you so badly, little seahorse. i'm so ready for you to come into my life. i'm ready to shed my old self, my old life, and become somebody wholly new, in a wholly new relationship with a wholly new human being. hey! i love you! come here and be my baby!

[whump-card]

Sunless Lives Part 6: I Should Apologize

Hey. Why is that 'you' italicized?

~1490 words

CW: alcohol

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~~~

Gina and Matthew weren’t trained for this. They knew in theory the effects of blood loss, and of the synthetic blood, and had sat through lectures about the post-traumatic stress experienced by vampire victims; but in practice, their experience ended at starting an IV and handing victims off to EMTs. They knew to expect the temperature swings, fatigue, and disorientation from the blood loss, and the fever and nausea from the synthetic blood, and for it all to be made worse by the concussion and its headaches. But knowing a list of symptoms and roughly how to handle them on paper was very different from actually trying to take care of someone. When Simon passed out while Matthew was feeding him Matthew was terrified, before he found he could easily shake Simon back awake - the younger man had simply fallen asleep on the spot. Matthew pulled away the pillows and eased him back to lie down, and let him sleep. Clearly he needed it.

After that Matthew and Gina stood together in the main room. After well over 24 hours awake, they were held upright by pure adrenaline and willpower. Matthew felt like the weight of the entire building above them was pressing on him. He raised his eyes to meet Gina’s.

“We can't do this,” he admitted.

Her shoulders sagged, and she closed her eyes and nodded.

“I know.”

“I’ll call Cap back down.”

“Yeah,” she nodded again, “He’ll listen to you more than me.”

Matthew pulled his phone from his back pocket and blinked at it. 9:18 AM. The time felt impossible - both too early, given all that had happened, and too late, given that it had all gone by in a flash. He shook his head and called Captain Isles, on speaker so Gina could listen in.

The phone rang a few times before the captain answered.

“Yeah?” was his only greeting.

“Cap, we can’t do this,” the words spilled out of Matthew before he could even think, “We’re drowning down here, we need to take McKenna to a hospital, or at least the infirmary. Gina and I don’t know what we’re doing.”

A long, slow, breath was Isles’ first response. Then, a tirade.

“Do I need to repeat everything I said earlier? We take him out of this building, he dies. We take him to the infirmary, higher ups find out what happened, end his housing privileges, he dies. You two taking care of it is the only option. Barre and Wynn can bring you anything you need.”

“It’s not just the injuries and the blood poisoning, Cap, he… he’s traumatized, he pulled my gun on me!”

There was a pause, then… Isles laughed.

“He did what?”

Gina covered her mouth, clearly stifling some outraged remark. Bewildered, Matthew restated himself.

“He got my gun. He pointed it at me. He thought I was going to hurt him or something. We need help, Cap.”

“So he still has some fight in him, that’s good,” there was undoubtedly some affection in Isles’ voice; “I’ll send Barre down, text him whatever you need and he can take your weapons and gear. You shouldn’t need them, I doubt McKenna will actually try to murder you.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about!” Matthew insisted, only to realize the captain had hung up. He turned to stare at Gina, who still had a hand pressed to her mouth as she glared at the phone.

“What do we do?” Matthew asked her.

She slowly lowered her hand and met his gaze, her own dark brown eyes flashing with rage.

“We do our best,” she said.

~~~

Devon Barre dropped off a cot and two sets of sheets and blankets, as well as Matthew and Gina’s pre-packed overnight bags that lived in their lockers in case of emergency. Apparently this counted. Devon was sheepishly quiet under Gina’s glare, and left quickly with their weapons and bulletproof vests. Matthew and Gina moved the coffee table off to the side in front of the bookcase and set up the cot in its place, then played rock-paper-scissors to determine who got the marginally comfier couch. Matthew won. To make up for it, he did the dishes, stuffed Simon’s bedspread into the little washing machine in the bathroom, and checked on Simon one last time (still asleep, still stable) and then they finally, finally, got some sleep.

~~~

Matthew awoke slowly to some quiet noise. Between the stress, being underground, and sleeping during the day, his brain was desperate to know what time it was, so the first thing he did was reach for his phone. It was 4:17 PM, and he had a slew of texts from Amber.

did dev get you everything you needed? how is simon doing? ca…

i know everyone’s probably mad at me and i really want to make…

but i didn’t want to overwhelm anyone by coming down with dev…

have you even told simon everything that happened? maybe it’s…

pls respond

Matthew clicked his screen off and lifted his head to find the source of the noise. He was surprised to see Simon, eating a bowl of cereal and drinking a beer by the low glow of a nightlight by the sink. He had a sheen of sweat on his forehead, but was clearly feeling well enough to have gotten changed into long-sleeved pajamas and to be standing steadily upright.

“Hey,” Matthew whispered, not wanting to wake Gina. She was sound asleep on the cot next to the couch, cocooned in blankets so that only her light brown hair was visible.

“Hey,” Simon responded in kind.

“Are you sure you want that? Cap dropped off groceries earlier, we can make some real food.” Matthew resisted commenting on the beer.

Simon shrugged.

“This is fine. S’bran flakes, they got a lot of iron.”

There was an awkward silence, broken only by Simon’s quiet-as-he-could chewing.

“I’m really sorry about earlier,” Simon eventually whispered.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” Matthew replied.

“Pretty sure I scared you.” 

“You thought you were in danger.”

“But I wasn’t, was I?”

“No, but -”

“Was I?”

The question threw Matthew off guard, and he blinked up at Simon, who was staring him down with dark, steely eyes. Matthew couldn’t read Simon’s expression, but he knew he needed to answer the question unambiguously.

“No,” said Matthew firmly, “Absolutely not.”

“Okay,” something in Simon’s shoulders relaxed, “Okay.”

“You believe me?” Matthew couldn’t help his curiosity.

“I think I’d believe anything you say,” Simon said, his voice eerily calm, “Because I like you, and I do trust you. I’ve decided that, I do. You just… reminded me of someone else earlier. I got the wrong idea.”

Matthew thought about this for a second, trying not to be too distracted by the I like you.

“Did you think I was Captain Isles?” he asked.

“What? No,” Simon seemed genuinely confused, “Why would you think that?”

“Uhh,” Matthew resisted looking to Gina, “I heard you two had… a thing?”

“Oh.” Simon’s shoulders slumped a little further. It took Matthew a second in the dark to see that Simon looked ashamed. Matthew watched him, holding his breath. When Simon realized he was waiting for a response, he downed the rest of his beer and set the empty can on the counter with a hollow tink and a slow breath.

“We did,” he confirmed, “Have a thing. It was short, it didn’t go anywhere.”

“He’s your boss,” Matthew gently chided.

“He was all I had,” Simon’s shoulders squared back up defensively, “He was good to me.”

Matthew raised a yielding hand.

“Sorry. I was just concerned.”

Beside him, Gina stirred. Seeing this, Simon made a beeline for the hallway. The door to his bedroom opened and closed, revealing a brief sliver of the brightly-lit interior as he passed through.

“Hey… Hey!” Matthew whisper-shouted after him, but he was gone. 

“Hey y’self.” Gina slinked an arm out from under the covers to check her phone just as Matthew had.

“Jesus,” she muttered, “My sleep cycle is fucked.”

“He didn’t think I was Isles,” Matthew informed her.

“What?” Gina was still rubbing sleep out of her eyes.

“When he pulled my gun on me,” Matthew clarified, “He didn’t think I was Isles, I don’t think Isles ever… hurt him like that.”

Gina was quiet for a moment, mulling this over.

“He called me Lara,” she finally said, “When I went to change his IV. But that time, he thought I was someone who… Could take care of him. He wanted me to stay.”

“Lara,” Matthew tested out the name. It gave him a prickle of familiarity. Maybe Simon had mentioned her before. Then he asked,

“Why didn’t you? Stay with him, I mean.”

“Didn’t feel right.” Without her contacts in, Gina held her phone inches from her nose as she tapped something out, and the light from it glowed pale blue across her face.

“I couldn’t lie to him.”

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

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Taglist: @flowersarefreetherapy @pigeonwhumps @sunshiline-writes

[amberswilddreams]

so much blood💔

pairing : mark feehily x fem!sister reader

summary : mark's sister, madelena, at a westlife concert, suffers from an awfully traumatic late miscarriage at five months, right at the 24-week mark where it's considered a stillbirth. she had been carrying the baby that would have been her brother mark's and his partner cailean's baby when she miscarries their baby in the bathroom after bleeding profusely for five minutes until mark's bandmates' wives find her. 

warnings : mentions of miscarriage, blood, tears, hospital, angst, a surrogate for her brother and his partner, older brother x mark 

a/n : yet again, this is a reused one-shot that i have written before and whilst i hate giving mark such a sad first imagine, it was either this one or a very cute but very short one which i think will be my next mark one-shot. unlike the character in this one-shot, i have never (thankfully) experienced a miscarriage/ectopic pregnancy/ stillbirth etc, however, i do know people who have gone through that and it's soul-destroying. however, this does not mean by any means that i am glorifying or positively promoting the physical and mental tolls that miscarriages have on families as it is awful and very traumatizing. this is just a thing of fiction that i have written with no intentional means to harm anyone.

attending westlife concerts with the rest of the westlife family was most probably madelena feehily's, mark feehily's younger sister's, favourite thing to do. but most especially now that she was carrying the beautiful baby that was going to be mark and his partner, cailean's future child. which made this whole reunion tour all the more special for everyone now that mark was now adding one of his own to the growing westlife family. however, recently, madelena had been having some strange cramp-like pains in her stomach and back. however, she had just been disregarding them because she didn't want to put more fuel in the fire of her fears of having a miscarriage whilst trying to give her brother and brother-in-law a child coming true. and besides, the pains hadn't been too extreme that it required looking into so, madelena just didn't think it mention it to her midwife. or anyone really at this stage. especially considering if this baby was to miscarry, it wouldn't be madelena's first one either. madelena already has kids of her own, three to be exact, but in her last pregnancy, whilst she did make it to the delivery of her baby, it was clouded with heartbreak because the baby was born sleeping. at 38 weeks and she had promised herself, as well as her own partner, that after that, she'd never ever try to fall pregnant again. that was, however, until her brother mark and his partner had been researching on how they themselves could become parents and if they were even able to since they are gay and physically cannot become pregnant when they found out about the world of surrogacy. that was when madelena, even whilst carrying the grief of the loss of what would have been her fourth child, put her hand up and volunteered to be the surrogate for her brother and brother-in-law's child. which, obviously, mark and cailean were and are forever grateful for so, when madelena finally fell pregnant with what would be mark and caliean's first child, excitement immediately began building. not just around the feehily's and o'neil's but also in the westlife extended family. all madelena had been positively manifesting was a happy, healthy, stress-free pregnancy for her older brother and brother-in-law. and, as of right now, it seemed as if everything in madelena's pregnancy was going exceptionally for her now that she had reached the fifth month and didn't pursue the same symptoms that she did when she had her stillborn. so, already, madelena felt as though with baby feehily-o'neil that she was completely out of the danger zone in regards to miscarrying or having a stillbirth after the delivery. and, to be completely honest, that knowledge that madelena had healthily made it to the five-month mark in this pregnancy for her brother just this past week gave her so much comfort and safety. because it meant that she really was going to be able to give her brother everything he had ever wanted; a child.

whilst madelena and the westwives (and fiancé) gillian, jodi, georgina and cailean were on their way backstage, to the wings where they would watch their husbands (and brother) on stage, a conversation insued. they couldn't help but bring up the conversation of mark and cailean's baby that madelena was carrying and whether or not the fiancés had come up with names.

"---so, whilst you look divine being preggers with marky and cailean's baby, mads, have they come up with names for the little feehily yet?" gillian asks as madelena and cailean giggled, giving each other the side-eye whilst jodi and georgina smiled at each other, madelena rubbing the tiny five-month bump

"uhh, nah, not really, gill. i don't think they're not really focused on names just yet. i mean, i know mark isn't but, obviously i can't speak for cailean. but, all that is known is that our brothers know the gender so, i think mark and cailean are waiting for that," madelena spoke before cailean ndded his head in agreement with his sister-in-law as his eyes sparkled at the baby bump that was his future child

"yeah, just like mark and madelena, no names have really been considered since we're still waiting for the gender to be revealed to us so, when barry and collin announce it, that's when i think mark and i will think up of names but, until then, the baby's name is baby feehily," cailean chuckles as the girls all nod their heads and smile brightly as jodi speaks up

"well, no matter what gender baby feehily is going to be, you and mark will for sure come up with a beautiful name anyway," jodi coos as she rubbed her hot hand across madelena's stomach, making the pregnant girl giggle softly due to the tickly sensation it gave her

however though, maybe the amount of laughter she and the others were doing was not the smartest. a large shot of sharp pain sent shockwaves through the surrogate mother's entire body as if it was a giant period cramp. along with the strange feeling of nausea, which madelena had not once been experiencing unlike her last pregnancy, she quickly and without words excused herself from the wives and fiancé to the bathroom just outside of the backstage wings which was the accessible toilet, the only one that madelena could use. 

~

"--hello london! how are we feeling tonight?!" mark cheers into his microphone as he laughs at the enthusiasm of the london crowd in front of him 

mark then continued on with the little speech about the acoustic medley section of the show. this was the section of the show in which they sing small snippets of their old songs throughout the first fourteen years of their back catalogue. then, he went on to introduce the first song of that set after their "i have a dream" cover was their 2002 hit "unbreakable". 

"--this next song, uhh, actually, when kian used to introduce it years ago, he would do this big speech about how westlife... are... unbreakable, but then we split up..." mark pauses as everyone giggles, kian and shane doubling over in laughter as nicky just shakes his head 

then the boys joked about how, even though they did split up, they were now back together, so technically, westlife are still unbreakable! which, to be fair, is not an incorrect statement to make! 

"...so technically, we are unbreakable... honestly, it's been amazing being back on tour with not only the lads but with all the families backstage we have a lotta fun, we have dinner every night, with the kids and the families and the wives and the fiancés and it's a lotta fun..." 

"...it's one big family and it's about to get bigger in a few months' time---"

"---marky's having a baby!" 

"so a big shout out to all the pregnant ladies in the audience, but especially my sister, madelena since she is actually carrying the baby! so, big up my little sister! and i think i actually gave away the title of this song so..." mark chuckled, as did the other lads as backstage, the westwives and fiancé all smiled lovingly at the mention of madelena carrying mark and cailean's child

then, the cords for unbreakable began to play and the lads started to sing. mark felt like he was on cloud nine after announcing that he was about to become a father, i mean, who wouldn't feel like that. madelena for sure felt like she was on cloud nine and it wasn't even her child that she was giving birth to. however, throughout unbreakable and the happiness of the baby announcement, fear started to spread through the backstage area. as cailean and gillian ran through the o2 to find baz whelan who was the band's security guard so they could tell baz that mark was urgently needed backstage. 

the crowd enjoyed every moment of the acoustic medley until it got to around the halfway point when the lads were joking around about what song was better, bop bop baby or fool again when baz ran up onto the stage. making the crowd make noises of confusion whilst others squealed that the security guard was on stage. smiling as best as he could and waving to the fans, baz made a beeline straight to mark. grabbing his arm and pulling him closer to his side, mark lowered his microphone, and baz started whispering something into mark's ear so it wasn't heard by anyone else. which, for some strange reason made the crowd scream even louder. the other three lads, nicky, kian and shane, with confused faces watched on but still tried to keep some energy up by mumbling small song tunes under their breaths to keep the audience occupied as their confused faces turned into looks of concern. as within seconds, mark's face ran cold and paled, his head shooting up to look at baz.

dropping his microphone to the floor, originally meant for his stool, mark wasted no time in dashing off the stage in a flash of light. barely tilting his head at mark, nicky, since he was sat right next to mark, grabbed mark's microphone from the floor as baz shot him and the other two lads a look of "i'll tell you three later"  

the other three all looked at each other in concern for their youngest bandmate and also now at the crowd who were waiting in nervous anticipation as to what the hell had just happened and why mark just ran off stage. 

baz then spoke up, with mark's microphone that nicky had just handed him, "i am awfully sorry everyone. everything is fine, mark just needs to take care of something right now that has been classified as an emergency. as of right now, everything is okay and all parties involved are okay. i am not entirely sure when mark will be back on stage. however, for the rest of this set, nicky, kian and shane will continue whilst mark takes care of what's happening backstage," baz announces as the other three bandmates, whilst absolutely fearful of what could be going on backstage right now, give each other comforting looks and decide to continue on with the acoustic set without mark 

at hearing this announcement, the crowd, shrouded in worry, erupts into cheers and baz walked off stage trying his best to maintain his cool and not let his facade to crumble. especially since he was the only one that actually knew what was happening backstage (and that everything was anything but okay). nicky, kian and shane, now knowing that whatever was happening backstage that involved mark, would be told to them later on, terrified them. yet they had to mask that fear and continue the show because not only were they just told to by their security guard but also by their fans reactions. and, it wouldn't be the first time that these lads have sung after a tragedy so, why was this time seeming harder to do when they didn't know about the emergency happening backstage? 

~

bursting out of the backstage wings and through the back rooms of the o2, not even paying attention to who may have been trying to calmly walk past, mark demanded answers as to what was going on. especially due to the fact it was in regard to his sister, madelena. then, suddenly, the only thing that rang through his ears was the sound of madelena's screams and cries of desperation. 

jodi and georgina were on the ground, desperately trying to coax madelena to open the bathroom door but, not one single thing they were saying made the poor girl open the door. standing straight off the floor the second the two girls saw mark, nicky's wife spoke up, "she's been there for fifteen to twenty minutes, cailean made the call to 911, any minute they should be arriving," georgina was updating mark, well, trying to as it seemed as if mark was too fixated on trying to figure it out himself 

"what even happened?" mark's usual soft tone of voice came out shakier, moving his ear to the door to see if he could figure out what was wrong, the things he heard was madelena repeatedly saying "no" as she wept and let out small bouts of screeches to herself 

out of breathe, with baz and cailean right beside her, gillian mumbled, "she still hasn't opened the door?" as jodi and georgina shook their heads as gillian and cailean turned their attention to mark who was looking for answers, which jodi gave to him 

"in all honesty mark, we have no idea what happened," jodi shrugged sadly, wishing she did know so she could help her best friend and family, "we were all having a sweet and nice conversation about baby feehily and names and just having a right old laugh when madelena just suddenly got up off the floor and quietly excused herself to the bathroom, no words spoken. then, after it had been about four minutes, i got worried and i went over to knock on the door to check in on her but, before i could even get there, i just heard her scream. she refuses to open the door for us, that was when i told gillian and cailean to grab baz to grab you, so, sorry for having to grab you off stage but, maybe, for you, mark, she'll open it?" 

mark shook his head at jodi's apology for making him walk off stage during a show as he took in a deep breath before leaning his forehead against the metallic, cold bathroom door, "mads? babe, it's just me, could you please open the door?" 

no response. not even a noise of acknowledgement. 

breathing in again, mark tried a second time, "madelena, please, can you open the door for me?" he tried to keep his voice as calm as he could but, how could he? his sister was potentially injured whilst pregnant with his and his fiancé's baby and he had no clue what to do to help her

a few seconds when past of pure silence that really worried the group, and made them hold their breath until a shaky, wet breath was heard on the other side of the door, "i-i can't marky, please, go-go away! there-there's so-so mu-much!" the girl sobbed out in utter terror and distress, her vocal cords breaking 

mark tried his hardest to not curse, both under his breath and loudly. deciding to try again, he knew he needed to get to his sister and see what was wrong so he could help her, "babe, maddy, if you're near the door, you need to move back," once again, no response from madelena suggesting that she had moved away from the door 

then, taking the slim chance that he was right and his sister did move out of the way, as his fiancé, jodi, gillian, georgina and baz watched on in fear. mark jutted his right foot towards the bathroom door, his boot kicking it open completely. flying open immediately, the door revealed a scene that was beyond anything that everyone had imagined they'd be seeing. well, in all honesty, they had no clue whatsoever as to what they expected to see behind that bathroom door but, it certainly didn't involve all of this blood. 

blood was absolutely everywhere, not only was madelena surrounded and sitting in it, there was blood all over her arms and some in her hair, legs and face due to her most likely panicking and touching herself to self-regulate herself into a calm enough state. with no care in the world, only stripping off the denim jacket that he was provided by the stylists and ripping off his in-ears, chucking them aimlessly at baz, who caught them, the only thing that clicked into mark's brain was to comfort his baby sister. dropping to his knees, he slid over through the blood and to the toilet bowl where madelena was resting, her body rocking with sobs as he pulled her in for a hug, blood being transferred from her to him in an instant. her hands rested at her side, her chin resting on mark's shoulder as her sobs shook both of their bodies. mark was mortified, i mean, he had no idea that someone so small as his sister could have this much blood rush out of them. 

"i'm so sorry marky," madelena whispered out ever so quietly to the point where mark could barely hear it, not that she needed to apologise at all anyway 

cailean, jodi, gillian and georgina looked in, noticing everything that had happened and instantly, tears all welled in their eyes. ushering everyone out, cailean gave one last look to his fiancé and sister-in-law before he also left the two of them so they could have a moment alone before the paramedics arrived. 

"and why are you apologising, madelena?" mark whispered as he rocked his little sister back and forth, kissing the side of her cheek that wasn't covered in blood, his arms wrapped securely around his distraught sister 

"baby..." was all madelena could at first whisper, which confused mark 

"...baby? what do you mean baby, maddy, what's happened, babe?" mark pushed for some more answers as madelena's face screwed as she closed her eyes and shook her head, tears waterfalling down her face as she refused to talk about what had just happened 

mark hugged his little sister tighter, not just to comfort her but also to let her know that he wouldn't get mad or lash out over whatever it was that she wasn't telling him. even if it did have something to do with his and cailean's child. he just wanted to be told what had happened so he could help his sister. 

finally, with reluctance and shame for herself, madelena once again whispered it out, "...the baby, i-i lost the baby..." no loud sobs followed from her mouth after she revealed her stillbirth as mark felt a switch get turned off whilst another one got turned on and his eyes filled with tears 

"...oh, oh maddy! i am so sorry babe!" mark whispered as he pulled his sister closer to him, his lips smooshed against her dark auburn hair as his breath hitched as he felt his own tears leave his eyes as he closed them tightly 

the two siblings sat on the bloodied up floor for what felt like hours whilst the westlife concert continued on stage before paramedics ran through the hallways of backstage before reaching the feehily siblings and the rest of the westlife spouses. in a strange way, relief flooded mark's body hearing the pitter patters of the feet rushing through the hallways towards him and his sister. subconsciously, even though he didn't know too much about first aid, he knew from the way his sister was scrunching her body up in pain that this was good timing for the paramedics of their arrival. it looked as if the foetus was still inside of madelena and that she'd need surgery to have it medically removed so nothing negative or dangerous would happen to madelena. the bloody scene that the paramedics had to witness as they walked in was not a friendly shock to the system at all and it was something they could never get used to, even as veteran paramedics. seeing this much blood as a paramedic, especially if their patient is a pregnant woman, was never good news, never.

~

mark picked up madelena and placed her on the gurney, unable to move as he just stood there as the paramedics wheeled away his sister to the ambulance. the hype and excitement from the westlife concert inside almost teased him with the lights flashing and the joyful screams as his thoughts were then interrupted by the male paramedic, "excuse me, sir, would you like to come and ride with us?" 

turning around to face the man, mark gulped, "umm, uh, no, hold on, i need to at least get changed out of my clothes and clean myself up a bit, i'll meet you guys there as soon as i can," 

the 50ish-year-old paramedic nodded his head, telling mark the name of the hospital they were sending his sister to, making sure cailean was going with her so she wouldn't wonder later on why she was left all alone. the ambulance then took off with his sister and fiancé when mark was finally alone and he felt himself walking back into the backstage area of the arena, his brain completely turned off, having no clue what to do or what to even think at this point in time. all he could do was find himself walking back into the bloodied bathroom where he found his sister, the blood staring back at him like it was teasing him for not just his and cailean's loss but also his sister's, especially since it hadn't even been that long since the loss of her fourth child. and finally, the sobs he had been swallowing back for the sake of his sister just released from his body in violent jolts, completely overwhelming him and his ability to stand. he then tried to shake, wipe and flick away the blood that was covering his entire body from his legs to his upper chest. not stopping until he felt himself being grabbed that he realised that for the last couple of minutes, nicky had been calling out his name, kian and shane not that far behind nicky.

mark's raw, bloodshot, itchy eyes met up with nicky, kian and shane's worried ones, "hey, marky, hey!" 

not a second longer went by before mark collapsed into nicky's slightly shorter frame and tries to quieten his painful sobs into the blonde's shirt. taken aback not just by shock but also physically, having to catch not just himself but also mark, nicky doesn't hesitate to tighten his arms around the shaky, sobbing, bloodied-up mark as he holds him tightly. encouraging the younger lad to continue to cry over the emergency that still, nicky, kian or shane had no knowledge of. 

"that's it marky, yeah, ssh, that's it. let it all out buddy, it's going to be okay, you'll be fine..." 

~

...mark had just incoherently tried to explain to nicky, kian and shane about the emergency that had happened backstage that had caused him to miss the rest of the acoustic set. with the other three struggling to understand what had happened, they looked at each other with confusion, worry and uncertainty rushing through their bloodstreams. urging for mark to take a few more breaths before trying again, was the moment in which the westlife wives had walked in on their husbands trying to comfort their fellow bandmate. 

that was when, with some encouragement, jodi came forward and explained to the other three boys what had happened, "nicky, what mark's trying to say is, madelena was hanging out with us and cailean, we were laughing and blabbering on about what the baby would be called when out of nowhere, madelena wordlessly got up from her spot and rushed off into the bathroom. four minutes later, after becoming worried cause she never spends that much time in the bathroom, let alone four whole minutes, i went to check on her only to find that she had locked the door. but even before i went to open the door, i just heard her scream and refused to open the door. that was when we got gillian and cailean to get baz to grab mark off stage and then, that was when we came to the realisation that madelena had gone into stillbirth, the-the baby's gone..." jodi's voice faltered at the end as mark let out a sob as nicky held him tighter, kian and shane both closing their eyes as tears filled their eyes

covering his mouth with his hand, shane softly spoke up, "... oh, maddy... where is she and cailean? have they gone to the hospital?" shane's voice also faltered as jodi nodded her head, confirming something that she knew mark couldn't out loud

"yeah, shay, the paramedics found out that the foetus was still inside madelena so, she's been sent into surgery to give birth to the baby because if the baby isn't removed, it's not just the baby we could potentially lose," jodi sniffled, wiping her nose with her sleeve as nicky once again squeezed mark tightly as kian gestured to shane to say that they should go over and help nicky comfort mark 

and, without another word, kian and shane squeezed into mark and nicky's hug as they all, nicky included, started to cry together over the loss of what would have been the tenth westlife baby. the westwives, jodi, georgina and gillian, also overcome with emotion, then also joined in on the hug as they all cried and grieved together before they realised that they had left cailean all alone with madelena. 

but, before they left, nicky whispered one last thing before they broke the group hug, "...it's gonna be okay, we'll be fine..." 

~

now that it was well known within the london o2 that madelena had just been wheeled out by paramedics to the hospital, the rest of the westlife concert had been cancelled since the band knew they couldn't and wouldn't continue the show as a three-piece and leave mark in the hospital on his own with cailean. so, within minutes, all four bandmates and the three wives had all changed from their concert outfits and rushed out of the arena to baz's van to get to the hospital that mark had been told that madelena had been driven to. 

however, this whole time, mark's weeping didn't stop. at this point, he was wailing like a dying animal, he was so devastated. what was more devastating was this was the first time his bandmates had seen mark cry this much over anything. and that was what broke their hearts the most because they all knew that all mark ever wanted to be in his life was a dad and just as he was four or so months away from becoming one, the baby passes away. and before kian got into the car with mark, he realised that he still hadn't gotten changed and was holding his clean clothes

so, to calm their distraught bandmate and get him out of his bloodied clothes, kian this time speaks up, "hey, mark, come on, look at me buddy, look at kian!" pushing him away, mark still does what he's told and makes eye contact with kian

"whilst this sounds like utter bullshit and you have full permission to smack me for saying this, everything will eventually be okay. you, cailean and madelena will recover from this and all of us getting in this car and waiting at that hospital will help you out. and eventually, madelena will help give you and cailean the most precious little baby ever but, right now, you need to get changed and into this car so we can get to that goddamn hospital because out of everyone here right now, madelena needs you, cailean needs you and you need your sister and your fiancé!" wiping his tears away, mark nodded his head, agreeing with his best friend and bandmate

but not before looking down and realising, kian was right, mark did forget to get changed out of his now dried-up bloodied clothes, he spoke up, "oh shit, you're right, i-i'll go and get changed, i'll be back..." mark hushed out as he wiped his tears away and rushed back into the venue so he could get changed 

whilst that type of moment, one of his bandmates forgetting to get changed would normally be hilarious, this time it pierced through nicky's heart, it smacked kian across the face and it just broke shane's heart to see how distressed and unconsolable mark had been. to the point that he had simply forgotten to get out of his bloodied up clothes this entire time whilst everyone else had before walking to baz's van. mark then took those sweet few seconds as he stripped himself of his bloodied clothes and into a clean, comfy set of sweat pants and crew neck sweater along with a pair of slippers. double-checking he had everything he needed and that he hadn't forgotten anything else, he made his way back out of the arena and to the van where everyone was waiting inside, kian waiting outside for him as they then made their way to the hospital to madelena and cailean. 

~

madelena couldn't believe that her body had once again, in the span of what was only a few months, failed her. all she wanted to do was to give her brother and brother-in-law a goddamn baby and she was so close to doing so as well. at this point, the grief of losing her fourth baby was practically gone because she knew it wasn't her fault and she had just accepted that it was normal to lose a baby. however, knowing that this specific baby that she was pregnant with was her brother's just made her grief the worst it had ever been. she felt like she had failed mark and cailean since she couldn't accomplish the one goddamn thing that women were practically put on this earth to do. all her brother ever wanted was a goddamn child and she couldn't even give him that. 

waking up from her surgery, the girl was drowsy and for a moment forgot where she was when she heard the familiar voice of cailean, "...hey babe, you're awake, i'll get the nurse--"

"--cailean, where...where's marky? i..i need to apologise to him, and...and you! i need to apologise to you! i am so sorry cailean! i didn't mean to lose the baby i--"

"--hey, hey, no, maddy! we will not be doing this, not today! you have got absolutely nothing to apologise for! no one is blaming you for the loss of me and mark's baby! i don't blame you, mark doesn't blame you, no one blames you madelena! it is not your fault at all! you had no control nor any idea that this was to happen! don't you dare blame yourself for something that is out of your control!" cailean stressed as madelena timidly nodded her head, still feeling awful but less heavy now that she truly felt reassured that it wasn't her fault - that is until she saw her brother 

"do you know when mark will get here?" madelena then timidly asked as cailean sighed, he could tell that madelena was trying to stop cailean from getting the nurse 

"no, i don't babe but, i really need to tell a nurse that you're awake so, can i please inform one of the nurses that you're awake?" cailean smiled softly as madelena timidly nodded her head as that sent a shiver of relief down cailean's spine 

"thank you, maddy and, mark shouldn't be too far away and neither should the rest of the lads and wives since they will have also been made aware. now, i'll be back in a couple of seconds, a minute tops, behave!" cailean winked at the end as madelena breathed out a laugh with a small head nod as she rested her head against the wall of the hospital behind her whilst she waited 

~

by the time mark and everyone else had arrived at the hospital and was allowed access to his sister's hospital room, she had already had the surgical procedure she needed to remove the deceased foetus. even though she knew that her brother had walked into the hospital room, she couldn't even bear to look up and make eye contact with him. especially with the knowledge that the stillborn had also been wheeled into the room for the dads to meet the baby, she couldn't even bring it within herself to even breathe the same air as him. even though she knew she'd eventually have to otherwise she'd alert the doctors and nurses. it ripped mark apart knowing that not only did madelena have to through the surgery alone since cailean is not considered "family" but that she was so ashamed of herself that she couldn't even look him nor the baby in the eye.

"...please maddy, babe, say something, just anything." mark whispered out in a teary beg to his sister as she slowly but nervously lifted her head up, finally looking her brother in the eyes as she finally noticed just how hard this had also been for her brother and therefore everyone else 

"i-i... i tried so hard for anything but this to happen..." madelena whimpered out in a whisper as mark choked, not able to say a single thing as he swiftly moved over to the bed, hugging his sister as they cried together

then, they moved from the hug and madelena invited cailean in so the dads could go over to the cot and meet their child for the first time...

...the child that was going to be their baby girl if she hadn't been born still...

shane, kian and nicky all cried as they watched their bandmate and fiancé grieve over the loss of what would have been the third westlife baby girl.

"...we were going to have a baby girl cailean..." 

"...our precious little diva marky..." 

fin

this is the mark version i think i may have mentioned on my nicky version! and i don't know which version i like better, mark's or nicky's!

© amberswilddreams, 2024

[iclick-blogs]

Dementia 101

In recent years, more older adults have been experiencing dementia. Let us first define what dementia is so we can understand it more.

Dementia is a condition where you experience a decline in your mental abilities, impacting your daily life. It can lead to difficulties with memory, thinking, and planning. The progression of dementia varies from person to person, with some individuals remaining stable for years, while others may experience a rapid decline. The important point is prevention for dementia and what one can do to manage it. Prevention for dementia can be easily acquired if we do some activities that will be mentioned in this article.

Causes of Dementia

Past studies have explored the causes of this disease. Are you living with Dementia?, Then you need to know the common causes and types of dementia which are:

Alzheimer’s dementia, also referred to as Major Neurocognitive Disorder due to Alzheimer’s disease

Vascular Dementia

Parkinson’s Dementia

Frontotemporal Dementia

Lewy Body Dementia

There are also less common causes of dementia which includes:

Dementia due to multiple etiologies

Dementia due to traumatic brain injury

Dementia due to another medical condition

Dementia due to substance/medication use

Dementia due to HIV infection

Huntington’s dementia

Dementia due to Prion Disease

This was discussed by Dr Rathi Mahendran at our Living with Dementia webinar: “Am I at risk of Dementia?”

Types of Dementia

The types of dementia can be seen below together with their brief description:

Types of dementia & Brief Description

Alzheimer’s dementia

Alzheimer’s dementia has a very gradual progression of cognitive and functional decline. It affects you slowly, possibly over 8 to 10 years.

The Amnestic type involves loss of memory and learning ability.

The non-amnestic type involves loss of vision, spacial awareness, and speech.

Vascular dementia

Vascular dementia often times happen due to impacted blood vessels in the brain.

Often caused by brain damage from strokes or heart-related issues, and sometimes alongside Alzheimer’s disease.

Parkinson’s dementia

Starts with Parkinson’s disease and later leads to Dementia

Frontotemporal dementia

-Frontotemporal dementia (FTD) is a group of brain diseases that affect nerve cells in the frontal and temporal lobes. Unlike Alzheimer's, it often doesn't involve amyloid plaques, and it can be genetic, with symptoms starting between 40 and 65 years old, lasting around 5 to 10 years on average.

Lewy Body dementia

-Dementia with Lewy bodies (DLB) is a common progressive dementia, often occurring without a family history. It involves cell damage in the brain's cortex and midbrain, with abnormal structures called Lewy bodies containing a protein called alpha-synuclein, but the exact reason for their accumulation is not yet understood.

Huntington’s disease

Huntington’s disease is a brain disease where brain cells break down.

It is a rare and inherited disease that affects a person’s functional ability.

Those with Huntington’s disease often experience emotional changes, loss of thinking abilities, and uncontrolled movements.

Normal pressure hydrocephalus

-In the brain, there are chambers called ventricles that hold fluid called cerebrospinal fluid. Sometimes, too much fluid gathers in these chambers, causing a condition called normal pressure hydrocephalus (NPH).

Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease

-CJD is a rare and deadly brain disorder that typically starts after age 60, with most patients passing away within a year. It's thought to be caused by abnormal proteins called prions, and while most cases occur randomly, a small percentage can be hereditary, but it's not contagious through the air or casual contact.

Corticobasal degeneration

-Corticobasal degeneration (CBD) is a brain problem where nerve cells die and certain brain areas shrink. People with CBD have abnormal stuff in their brain cells called tau protein. It slowly gets worse over about 6 to 8 years.

Mild cognitive impairment

-Mild cognitive impairment is when you have some memory and thinking problems, but they don't affect your daily life. It's not a specific disease and can have many different causes, like dementia.

Prevention For Dementia

Now the questions are how can one with dementia be treated and the prevention of dementia. There are two ways in which dementia can be treated but these are mostly considered preventive measures and not cures.

Firstly there is the use of medications. Medications can't completely cure dementia, but they can be used to slow it down a bit. These drugs might make your thinking better, improve your mood, or help you behave in a more positive way.

Secondly, there is one called Palliative care which is for seriously ill people. It's not about curing the illness but making life better in body, mind, and spirit.

The care may include:

Ways to help the person do things on their own and handle daily life for as long as they can.

Medicines can't cure dementia, but they might make thinking better, mood happier, or behaviour calmer.

When you're diagnosed with dementia, it can bring up emotions like anger and fear. To help with these feelings, talk to family, friends, or a dementia counsellor. They can give you support and guidance during this challenging time.

Dementia treatment helps keep the person safe at home with caregiver support. Check-ups every few months to watch their medicine and how they're doing. If necessary, the family might think about a special care place later on. Also there is an opportunity to survive, contact NUS Mind Science Centre to know more about How To Prevent Dementia Singapore!

How to prevent dementia is a common question among old age people. It can be a bit tricky because we don't always know exactly what causes it. But for some people who have dementia linked to strokes, there's a chance to slow down the decline by reducing the risks of heart disease and more strokes in the future. And guess what? These strategies aren't just for them – they can be good for anyone's overall health:.

How To Prevent Dementia Naturally - H3

Stay Active: Moving your body with regular exercise, like walking, swimming, or dancing, can help keep your brain and body in good shape.

Eat Well: A healthy diet full of fruits, veggies, whole grains, and lean proteins can give your brain and body the fuel they need.

Keep Your Heart Healthy: Since heart health is connected to brain health, try to manage your blood pressure, cholesterol, and blood sugar levels.

Stay Social: Being around friends and family, and staying engaged with activities you enjoy, can help your brain stay active and sharp.

Challenge Your Brain: Keep your mind busy with puzzles, reading, learning new things, or even playing games.

Get Enough Sleep: A good night's sleep helps your brain and body recover and stay healthy.

Manage Stress: Find ways to relax and reduce stress, like through meditation, deep breathing, or hobbies you enjoy.

Remember, these steps can't guarantee you won't get dementia, but they can help improve your overall well-being and reduce certain risks.

In conclusion, dementia is a complex condition that mainly affects older individuals. While there is no cure, treatments aim to slow it down and improve the well-being of patients and caregivers. Within the broader context of dementia, prevention for dementia plays a crucial role. Particularly in cases related to strokes, understanding how to prevent dementia is vital. Strategies such as staying active, eating well, and taking care of heart health can contribute significantly to this prevention effort. As ongoing research provides hope for better treatments, it further emphasises the importance of enhancing the lives of people with dementia and supporting their caregivers.

[shannonhayes]

IBD Journey - Finished Woven Cloth

Image 1 - This cloth is all about health. It represents the body as a blank canvas, being pure and "untouched". IBD is a condition that always presents itself later in life. 'Less than 1% of children with IBD present during the first twelve months of life' (Kappelman and Grand, 2008). I used Whites and Creams because of it's assocition with purity, innocence and cleanliness.

I really like weaving with neutral colours, actually a lot more then I expected I would. It wasn't ever an experiment that enticed me much, I think purely as I felt like you would not see the pattern or it wasn't obvious, or dramatic enough however, now my experimentation does not focus on pattern but instead texture and composition, it's actually become my favourite colour palette to weave with.

Image 2 - This cloth is about 'complexities'. It represents the body going through some changes and experiencing strange sensations. These could include: diarrhoea, tummy pain, blood or mucus, exhaustion, lack of energy or loss of weight. Each individual's experience is completely different, so this part of their journey could have a variety of solutions, trials, tests etc.

This cloth of is a portrayal of all the different situations that someone may be involved with, or experiencing during the 'pre-flare stage', such as: learning about IBD/associations, acknowledging intolarences, changing diets, being diagnosed, flaring up, requiring medication, keeping a food diary, seeing GP etc.

When transitioning to this cloth from the first sample, it was very crucial for me to end and begin with the same yarn/colour to represent a transition. Whilst I was weaving this cloth, I did have some reservations as I wasn't entirely sure how I would to represent these feelings, without just making my cloth that bit darker. After conversations with Debbie and Naomi, they suggested that I begin to use more 'unconventional' materials, that have a rough or harsh surface texture, such as paper, card, rope or wire. I used their advice and experimented with these materials and I am very happy with the results. I really like the colour gradient from Cream, through to Browns, using Burnt Oranges and Reds to portray that painful feeling.

Image 3 - This cloth represents the 'flare up'. The pain, the isolation, the embarrassment and the symptoms that happen during it. I have paper, card, celophane, wire, elastic etc. When surveying individuals, they said that colours such as Red and Black are what they would associate with a flare up, due to the feelings and emotions they display at this time.

Image 4 - This shows both cloth 2 and cloth 3. It shows the transition between 'pre/flare complexities' and a 'flare up'. You can see that the samples end and begin with the same yarn, showing the movement from one feeling and part of the journey into another. Both weaves have some texture evident however you can see the increase in roughness, coarseness and stiffness as it flows through.

Image 5 - This shows my 'experimental cloth' that I created at the end of my warp. I had more warp left over than anticipated so I decided to use some innovative yarns that I haven't experimented with before. I used Lycra and Monofiliment, which I absolutely loved using! I will definitely be using them both again. Although, very thin, flimsy and a time consuming yarn to use, Monofiliment was my favourite. I enjoyed the freedom and the feeling of weaving with absolutely no restrictions. As I could not see the yarn itself, I could just move the shuttle from side to side, with the only consideration being the selvedges. Although, in some ways a happy accident, this cloth is actually my favourite. I love that it looks so fragile but so structural at the same time. I like that it's durable and stable yet it drapes so gracefully.

I will definitely be using the TC2 now so that I can weave and experiment as much as possible in my final few weeks of the project. I have really enjoyed using the ARM Looms and feel my knowledge, confidence and efficiency has grown a lot in just the two times I have used it.

[reds-ramblings]

A/N: I actually have the medical issue discussed in this chapter so I do know quite about about it and tried to be as medically accurate possible. However, please overlook any errors I may have made.

Apple Doesn't Fall Far - Part 14

Marabella's P.O.V.

I open my eyes and try to move when I suddenly feel restricted. I look down and see Jay's arms wrapped tightly around me, and I remember his attempts to comfort me last night. I blush a little at our closeness. He seems to still be asleep, so I close my eyes and pretend to be myself. In his arms, I had the best sleep I've had in years, which is surprising given how uncomfortable hospital beds are. I feel him start to wake and anticipate him getting up, but to my surprise, he doesn't. He rests his chin on my shoulder and moves his hand up to caress my cheek.  He gently moves my hair back out of my face, tucks it behind my ear, and leans in close.

"Are you awake?" He gently whispers.

I still pretend to be asleep as I know once I'm awake, this moment will end, and there won't be another.

He lets out a long sigh. "I love you, Mara." He whispers. If his voice had been any lower, I wouldn't have heard it.

I feel butterflies dance in my stomach and try to remain calm, even though his sudden confession shocks me.

"I always have." He sighs again. " I'm sorry it took something like this happening for me to realize that. God, Mara, do you even have any idea what you're doing to me? I can't get you out of my head. I am now and have always been completely at your mercy." He buries his face in my neck and pulls me in closer.

If he could see my face, he would know I am absolutely not asleep. I can't help the foolish smile that seems to be plastered on my face. I love you too, Jake, I think to myself as I drift back to sleep.

"Mamma" Gracie's weak voice wakes me up, and I notice Jake is no longer beside me.

"Hey, baby," I say as I get out of bed, walk over to Gracie's bed, reach down, and squeeze her hand. "How are you feeling?"

"My head hurts, and I feel funny."

"You look funny too," Jay says as he walks back into the room, which makes Gracie giggle. "Here, I figured you could use some coffee as well." He holds out a cup to me.

"Thank you." I grab the cup and take a long drink.

"Has the doctor been in yet?"

"No, not yet. I hope he comes in soon to give us answers." I tell him and take another drink of my coffee. Right on cue, the door opens.

"Hello, my I'm Dr. Mathers. I'm a neurologist, and I've been called here due to the rarity of your daughter's situation." He walks over to Gracie and has her perform a series of tasks to check her fine mobility. " I have reviewed all of her test results. Now, the initial thought was a stroke because she had all the classic symptoms. However, there are no signs on any of the tests of any damage that would be caused if she had a stroke also her blood pressure never went above normal which is also another indication this was not a stroke."

"So, what caused all of her symptoms then?" I ask.

"It's called a hemiplegic migraine. Basically, your body reacts as if it is actively having a stroke, but it's not. Unlike stroke, all of the symptoms are temporary. In mild cases, someone experiencing one of these migraines will experience temporary speech and vision changes. In more severe cases such as your daughter's, temporary paralysis will occur. Although it is uncommon, temporary loss of consciousness like what happened in this case and coma can occur."

"What caused it?" Jay asks.

"Well, there can be several triggers for these migraines. Certain foods and smells can be triggers; lack of sleep and extensive exercise can be triggered as well. Some of the most common triggers include caffeine, alcohol, and dehydration." I look over at Jay and see his facial expressions change, but I can't quite read the look he has. "The most important thing is to make sure she avoids her triggers. Her having these migraines automatically puts her between a 40 and 70% higher risk to have an actual stroke. If these triggers are not avoided, this increases that chance. In addition, there are going to be a lot of medications in her future she will need to avoid. Anything that could alter hormone levels, such as birth control and mental health medications, are going to be off limits. I strongly encourage you to follow up as well as schedule regular appointments with a neurologist once you get back home. There is medication that can be prescribed to both prevent and manage these migraines." Jay suddenly gets up and walks out of the room, and the doctor continues. "There are rescue medications she can take when actively having one that will make the recovery time a little quicker. I don't think she needs daily preventative medication unless she starts having them regularly. We will get the discharge paperwork together, and she can go home soon."

"Thank you, doctor." I shake his hand, and he steps out of the room.

"Where did Dad go?" Gracie asks.

"I'm not sure I'll go find him, though," I tell her.

Stepping out of the room, I look down either side of the hall and don't see him anywhere. Down at one end of the hall, there's a small seating area. As I get closer to the end of the hallway, I see him pacing back and forth.

"Jay? What's wrong? Why did you leave like that?" I ask.

He quickly turns away from me and wipes his face before turning back to me. Even though he tries to hide it, it's clear he's been crying.

"It's my fault, Mara. I almost killed our Gracie."

"What are you talking about?" I look at him, confused.

"I gave her coffee, and that's what caused this." He says as a tear slips down his face.

"Jay, it was an accident you had no clue that would happen. She said Anna gave her coffee, so we had no reason to believe it would do anything to her."

"Mara, you were right to keep her from me."

"No, don't you even go there." I step forward and grab his face with both hands, forcing him to look at me. "Look at me, Jay. I didn't keep her from you because I doubted your parenting skills, and you know it. You're an amazing father, and that little girl loves you more than anything."

"She's been perfectly fine for the last 12 years, and now that I'm in her life, this happens."

"It's funny that you think you're the only one to screw up, Jay." I sigh. "I lost Gracie for a whole hour when she was two."

"Wait, you what?" He gasps.

"Yes, she had been sick and had kept me awake for days. I finally got her to take a nap and decided I could finally rest. She woke up before I did and crawled through the doggy door. I woke up and panicked when I realized she wasn't there. I had to call the police and everything. After about an hour, our neighbor went outside to find that she had broken into his backyard to play with his puppies. You're not the first parent to make a mistake, and I'm sure you won't be the last. I'm positive that's not even going to be the last one you make. What matters is that Gracie is ok."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now, get your shit together because Gracie wants to see you, and I don't want her to see you upset."

***

After a few more hours we were finally able to leave the hospital. They gave Gracie meds by IV to help her head, and she's been a bit out of it and saying crazy things ever since. She refused to leave the hospital until we agreed to get her ice cream on the way back to Jay's house. After the ice cream, she passed out in the back seat.

Jay parks the car, and I get out, open Gracie's door and carefully undo her seat belt. As I'm about to pick her up, Jay stops me. He grabs her and picks her up to carry her into the house. Before he gets to the door, she wakes up.

"Dad?" She asks.

"Yeah, Gracie?"

"Are you and mom back together?"

"What makes ask that?" He says while putting her down inside.

"Because I woke up last night and saw you sleeping in the same bed."

"Umm... well... I..." Jake starts to stutter.

"No, Gracie, we've talked about this. That's not going to happen." I look at Jay and can't miss the brief look of sadness before he masks it. "There was just one bed available, and it was more comfortable than one of us sleeping on the hard bench."

"Ok, but that's what I want for my birthday." She crosses her arms over her chest and pouts.

"Well, we don't always get what we want. Now go to bed and sleep off the medication they gave you." I say, motioning toward the bedroom.

She stomps off in the direction of the bedroom, and Jay turns to me.

"Do you think maybe Lily can keep her tomorrow? There are some things we need to talk about and I don't think it would be a good idea to do it in front of her."

"Sure, I'd be ok with that."

[thelovelygods]

As a teenager, Sylvia Plath vividly understood the extent to which her body steered her. "If I didn't have sex organs, I wouldn't waver on the brink of nervous emotion and tears all the time," she wrote in her journal in 1950. Ten days before her death, she had come to believe that "fixed stars/Govern a life." It turns out that Plath was probably right -- more right than she could have possibly known -- about her biology and her fate. But when Plath's journals were first published in 1982, what was most obvious about her was the supercharged nature of her emotions. Whatever causal agents may have been governing Plath's life, they were blown back by the force of her personality.

As unmistakable as were Plath's volatile emotions in the 1982 journals, the heavy editing of the text necessarily made it hard to discern the patterns to her moods. Even so, there did seem to be a detectable pattern, and it did not seem then, nor had it seemed to the people closest to her during the last years of her life, to be merely a function of temperament. In the weeks before her suicide, Plath's physician, John Horder, noted that Plath was not simply deeply depressed, but that her condition extended beyond the boundaries of a psychological explanation.

In a letter years later to Plath biographer Linda Wagner-Martin, Horder stated: "I believe ... she was liable to large swings of mood, but so excessive that a doctor inevitably thinks in terms of brain chemistry. This does not reduce the concurrent importance of marriage break-up or of exhaustion after a period of unusual artistic activity or from recent infectious illness or from the difficulties of being a responsible, practical mother. The full explanation has to take all these factors into account and more. But the irrational compulsion to end it makes me think that the body was governing the mind."

For at least the past 10 years it has been generally assumed that Plath fit the schema of manic-depressive illness, with alternating periods of depression and more productive and elated episodes.

The hypothesis that Plath suffered from a bipolar disorder is persuasive. But in late 1990, another, even more intriguing medical theory emerged. Using the evidence of Plath's letters, poems, biographies and the 1982 journals, a graduate student named Catherine Thompson proposed that Plath had suffered from a severe case of premenstrual syndrome. In "Dawn Poems in Blood: Sylvia Plath and PMS," which appeared in the literary magazine Triquarterly, Thompson theorized that Plath's mood volatility, depressions, many chronic ailments and ultimately her suicide were traceable to the poet's menstrual cycles and the hormonal disruptions caused by PMS.

Thompson pointed out that Plath unwittingly recorded experiencing on a cyclical basis all of the major symptoms of PMS, as well as many others, including low impulse control, extreme anger, unexplained crying and hypersensitivity. She also suffered many of the physical symptoms associated with PMS, notably extreme fatigue, insomnia and hypersomnia, extreme changes in appetite, itchiness, conjunctivitis, ringing in the ears, feelings of suffocation, headaches, heart palpitations and the exacerbation of chronic conditions such as her famous sinus infections.

Thompson compared Plath's reported mood and health changes with the journals, letters and biographies and found that her symptoms seemed to appear and disappear abruptly on a fairly regular schedule, with clusters of physical symptoms and depressive affect followed by dramatic changes in outlook and overall physical health. Those patterns can be directly linked to the dates of Plath's actual menses, particularly in 1958 and 1959, when she most habitually noted her cycles. Judging from the pattern of Plath's depression and health in late 1952 and in 1953 until her Aug. 24 suicide attempt, Thompson posited that "it seems reasonable to conclude that this suicide attempt was directly precipitated by hormonal disruption during the late luteal phase of her menstrual cycle and secondarily by her loss of self-esteem at being unable to control her depression."

Thompson showed that a well-known journal entry from Feb. 20, 1956, is clearly traceable to Plath's menses, to which she refers directly a few days later. The journal fragment takes on new meaning in light of having been written during the physically and emotionally debilitating luteal phase of Plath's cycle: "Dear Doctor: I am feeling very sick. I have a heart in my stomach which throbs and mocks. Suddenly the simple rituals of the day balk like a stubborn horse. It gets impossible to look people in the eye: corruption may break out again? Who knows. Small talk becomes desperate. Hostility grows, too. That dangerous, deadly venom which comes from a sick heart. Sick mind, too." On Feb. 24, the same day she notes in her journal that she has a sinus cold and "atop of this, through the hellish sleepless night of feverish sniffling and tossing, the macabre cramps of my period (curse, yes) and the wet, messy spurt of blood," Plath wrote a letter to her mother blaming her dark mood on her physical health: "I am so sick of having a cold every month; like this time, it generally combines with my period."

By the fall of 1962, the poems (which Plath carefully dated as they were completed) seem to follow a pattern of metaphorical renewals and optimistic transformations for roughly two to three weeks of artistic production, then jagged, seething accusations and aggression for a couple of weeks.

Thompson's PMS theory has been largely ignored by Plath scholars. But it immediately gained two important supporters: Anne Stevenson, Plath's controversial biographer, and Olwyn Hughes, Plath's former sister-in-law, whose letters were published in a subsequent issue of Triquarterly. Though oddly defensive in tone, Stevenson's letter does commend Thompson for her "invaluable contribution to Plath scholarship ... Certainly no future study of Plath will be able to ignore the probable effects of premenstrual syndrome on her imagination and behavior." And it states that she wishes she had been able to utilize Thompson's insights in the writing of her own work on Plath.

A letter from Olwyn Hughes also congratulates Thompson for her scholarship, but unlike Stevenson, Hughes practically stumbles over herself in amazement at the PMS theory. Hughes, who was quoted in Janet Malcolm's book "The Silent Woman: Sylvia Plath and Ted Hughes" as characterizing her long-dead sister-in-law as "pretty straight poison," wrote to Thompson: "It is quite a shock to digest all this -- after thinking for so long that Sylvia's subconscious mind was her prison, and to suddenly realise it may well have been in part, or wholly, her body. But it certainly tallies with Ted's mentions -- he has always felt some chemical imbalance was involved."

Hughes further points out that Ted Hughes had spoken of Plath's ravenous appetite just prior to her periods and asks, "I wonder if that is a known characteristic of PMS?" (According to the PMS literature, it is.) But most tellingly, Olwyn Hughes explains that "one of the reasons I was so bowled over by your piece is that Sylvia's daughter, very like her physically, suffers quite badly from PMS but is, in these enlightened times, aware of it and treats it."

Dr. Glenn Bair, one of the leading experts on PMS treatment and research in the United States, confirmed to Salon that PMS is typically passed from mother to daughter. In a rare interview about her parents, Frieda Hughes told the Manchester Guardian in 1997 that after the "collapse of her health," including extreme fatigue and gynecological problems, she underwent a hysterectomy in her 30s.

After a careful review of Thompson's article, of a seven-page monthly breakdown of Plath's symptoms for 1958 through 1959 and of the documented evidence of Plath's pregnancies and postpartum symptoms of 1959 through 1962, Bair said, "If you hack through the PMDD criteria, I think that you'll find that she fits the PMDD profile."

[ragingbookdragon]

The Best Of Us

Batfamily x M!Reader

Word Count: 3,035 Warnings: Angst

Author's Note: And here we are with a Batbrother fic! Enjoy! -Thorne

It wasn’t an inferiority complex. Not really. He wasn’t prone to anger or any of the other symptoms listed under it—and he checked. Multiple times. But there was something about being the only non-vigilante in his family of vigilantes that made him feel inadequate compared to the rest. Bruce had the Justice League, Dick and Jason had their own fantastic groups that saved the day, and Tim and Damian were still in school, but even they had their groups too. Hell, even Alfred still had contacts from his days in MI-5. And yet, he had none of the skills his brothers or father had, no extensive martial arts training, master detective skills, or weapon mastery. He was completely normal—or maybe abnormal in this case. And on some level, he resented that he couldn’t be like his family—maybe he did have an inferiority complex.

***

The greatest thing in (Y/N)’s mind about still being allowed to live at home was that no matter what, there was always food around to eat—Alfred saw to it that every growing man in the house had enough to eat—that being said, their grocery bills were outrageouslyexpensive.

He balanced his tablet in one hand, the other hand adjusting the tie around his neck as he stepped into the kitchen, quick to raise the tablet in time to avoid whacking his youngest brother in the head.

“Morning,” he greeted, taking his seat at the table, just after Jason’s. A chorus of tired, ‘mornings’ came back at him and he quirked an eyebrow. “Wow, loving the enthusiasm this morning, guys.”

Jason snorted and propped his chin on his palm, watching (Y/N) for a moment. “I seriously don’t understand how you’re always so chipper in the morning.”

He huffed a laugh and took a sip of the coffee that Alfred set down. “Someone has to be the ray of sunshine in this group of gray clouds.” (Y/N) cast a glance at Dick who was shoveling eggs into his mouth. “And it seems like our eldest is busy feeding his bottomless pit.” Dick was fast to shoot him a glare, that he returned with a smile.

Just then, Tim trudged into the kitchen in an oversized hoodie and plopped down in his seat, immediately shoving the plate in front of him to drop his head onto the table.

“Jesus Christ, you guys,” (Y/N) sighed, flicking at his tablet for a moment. “You’ve seriously gotta take a day off to recuperate.”

“What do you think we do during the day?” Dick retorted, taking a swig of milk.

“Okay I think you’re confusing the entire day with the first half,” he reasoned. “When I say take a day off, I mean the whole twenty-four hours.” He glanced at everyone, and the only person who seemed to not be tired was Alfred, and that’s partly because (Y/N) believed he was immortal. “You guys are gonna run yourselves into the ground,” he said. “I just don’t think—”

“We know what we are doing, (Y/N),” Damian interrupted with a glare. “We know our limits better than you do.”

He let out a sigh and shook his head. This conversation had happened many times before and it wasn’t anything new.

“I’m not saying I know them better than you Damian, I’m simply saying that you guys should take a day to relax so that something doesn’t happen on the job that you can’t control.”

(Y/N) glanced at his father. “Dad, c’mon, you know I’ve got a point.”

Bruce hummed and flipped the page of the newspaper. “So does Damian.” He met (Y/N)’s eyes and nodded. “You don’t have to worry so much, (Y/N). We know what we can handle.”

He stared at Bruce for a moment then scowled. “I don’t even know why I bother,” he muttered, and Damian was fast to chase his comment.

“I don’t know why you bother either. You’ve never once experienced what we do every night.”

(Y/N) met his youngest sibling’s glare. “Just because I don’t stick my neck out for each person in this city night after night doesn’t mean that I don’t know what it’s like to be exhausted.”

Damian crossed his arms over his chest. “So, you know what it’s like to be exhausted from blood loss because you’ve been stabbed or shot? Or to be exhausted from saving the lives of innocent people? You do?”

“I—” (Y/N)’s mouth opened, then he snapped it shut and looked away with a darkened expression, tasting something sour in his mouth. “No, I don’t.”

“That’s what I thought,” Damian finalized, and in the wake of the uncomfortable tension, a cellphone went off.

Everyone started looking for theirs, but (Y/N) muttered, “It’s mine.”

He picked it up and put on a cheerful voice. “Good morning Angela…yes, I just got the floor plan…” he tapped at the screen on his tablet. “Do me a favor and move the people from table eight to table three. Mr. Robinson is better friends with Mrs. Grace and will certainly give us a warmer atmosphere in that area.”

(Y/N) paused and listened, then he stood from the table and pushed his chair in. “Let me get to the office and we can situate the rest of the guests for tonight…alright, see you soon. Bye.”

He pulled the phone from his ear and ended the call, then took the black backpack that Alfred was holding to him. “Thanks Alfred.”

“Of course, Master (Y/N). Have a pleasant day at work.”

He huffed a laugh, but it was anything but amused. “I have to give a speech tonight in front of the entire company and three different magazines.” He glanced at Bruce. “Think you’ll be able to attend tonight? It’d mean a lot to me.” Bruce grunted, his way of telling (Y/N) that he’d try, but to not hope for a miracle.

It was fine, he was used to parentless ceremonies and events. He cleared his throat and shrugged on the backpack, making his way to the garage door.

“See you guys later.”

***

He’d given a few speeches in his short twenty-four years, and while he’d never say he was an expert on public speaking, he did know his way around a podium. That being said, every time he had to do a speech, he felt like vomiting—nerves he chocked it up to.

(Y/N) cast a glance around the packed ballroom, quietly groaning at the massive amount of people. His own table was empty, save for Angela and thank god for him, Lucius. He couldn’t help but frown at the name tags sitting in front of the empty seats.

“Wondering where the rest of the gang is?”

He met Lucius’ eyes and gave a halfhearted smile. “I’d like to think they took my advice and took the night off but…something tells me that the night called to them.” His lips pulled downwards. “I’m not going to act like this is a surprise, Lucius. I couldn’t even get them to show up for my university graduation.”

(Y/N) smiled and stood up, grabbing the notecards beside him. “What makes you think I could get them to show up to this?” He left the table and moved to the side of the stage, waiting for his name to be called. His fingers briefly shifted to his chest, feeling his heart fluttering beneath chest, nerves causing his breathing to come in short bursts. (Y/N) shut his eyes and took a deep breath, letting a pleasant smile cross his face as the presenter called his name, and walked up the steps.

The bright flash of photography momentarily blinded him, but he smiled through it. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, thank you for joining us tonight at the Centennial Inside Alliance Award Ceremony.” He flashed everyone a million-watt smile. “My name is (Y/N) Wayne, and as many of you know, I am a senior editor for Inside Alliance. It is my pleasure tonight to recognize Inside Alliance’s top writer for the year.”

(Y/N) glanced around the room, making sure to catch the eyes of the hundreds of guests.

“Inside Alliance was created on August fourteenth, nineteen-twenty by a group of immigrant mothers and fathers who wanted to bring knowledge of their homes and cultures to the rest of world. Some of those countries being Germany, Romania, Greece, Ireland, Italy, Israel, and many, many others.”

“The production of their valuable time and extensive care created one of the greatest magazines that is still in business today, that brings attention to the worldwide issues that many groups face, while still connecting to their roots of educating the public on cultures and groups.”

He smiled. “It is with my upmost honor that I congratulate and introduce Miss Flora Janaliyeva, one of our newest and greatest writers that has joined Inside Alliance, and the winner of tonight’s Inside Alliance Award.”

(Y/N) turned to the side and grinned at Flora as she ascended the stairs. Her long black hair was braided down the length of her back and she wore a bright and floral-patterned gown. She reached (Y/N) and he reached with his right, shaking her hand, and handed her the glass award with the other.

“Miss Janaliyeva, it is with honor and congratulations that I give you this award for your excellent talent and recognition of ability from Inside Alliance.”

She smiled brightly and accepted the award. “Thank you, Mister Wayne, the honor is mine.” He nodded politely once more and descended the stairs as she began her speech, quietly taking his place back at the table.

“Well done, Mister Wayne,” Lucius smiled and (Y/N) let out a deep breath.

“I’m just surprised I was able to do that without stuttering or panicking.” He glanced over, smile lowering slightly. “Lucius, are you alright?”

The older man dabbed at his forehead and nodded, though when he breathed, it sounded labored. “I’m fine,” he assured, then reached up to rub at his chest.

(Y/N) shifted. “I don’t think you’re alright Lucius.” He leaned over. “Are you having chest pain?”

“I—yes,” he grit out then met (Y/N)’s gaze. “My chest is getting—tight and I…and I—”

He started to slump over and (Y/N) shot to his feet, eyes widening with fear. “Lucius!” The yell startled the crowd and Flora, who all looked over at the two.

(Y/N) pulled the older man back and pressed his ear to his chest, listening. He pulled away and yelled, “Someone call an ambulance! I think he’s having a heart attack!”

He helped Lucius to the floor and immediately pressed his palms to the man’s chest, starting compressions. His breath came in panicked spurts and he kept looking at Lucius’ face.

“Just hand on Lucius. You’re going to be okay.” (Y/N) kept at it until the EMT’s arrived and they knelt beside them.

“Let us take over.”

For a moment, he didn’t move, too afraid that if he did, Lucius would die, but one of the EMT’s placed a hand on his shoulder while the other slide their hands underneath (Y/N)’s.

“Son, we’ll take it from here.”

(Y/N)’s arms went slack, and he let the medic pull him away, watching as they took over and started moving him onto the stretcher.

“Please, save him. He’s—he’s friends with my family I—”

The medic nodded firmly. “We’ll do all we can.”

And all (Y/N) remembered was someone ushering him into a taxi heading for the hospital.

***

The first people that arrived were Lucius’ family who were grateful for (Y/N)’s actions, but the young man could barely grimace as they disappeared into the hospital room, leaving him sitting outside, his head in his hands. Tears gathered in his eyes as he thought back to what the ER doctor told him.

***

“Mister Fox is in a stable condition, but you have to understand, Mister Wayne, his heart is very weak.”

“But—but he’ll be okay right?”

“Based on Mister Fox’s past conditions, he’s verging into heart failure. His heart is too weak to keep up with what the body needs.”

“And…and what does his body need at this point?”

“At this point? A new heart.”

***

He sucked in a breath and fought to keep the sob from escaping his throat, just as heard, “(Y/N)!”

His head shot up and he saw his father and older brothers coming down the hallway. (Y/N) clambered to his feet.

“Dad I—” he started, but cut off as he choked on a sob, and Bruce pulled him into a hug, holding (Y/N) as he sobbed. “I’m sorry,” he cried. “I tried my best but—”

“Shh,” Bruce hushed, a firm, but gentle hand coming to rest at the back of his son’s neck. “You did all that you could.”

He pulled back and wiped his face. “But Lucius needs a new heart, and I don’t know what to do. I should’ve seen this coming. He hasn’t been feeling well the past few weeks and I—”

“(Y/N),” his father said firmly, hands coming to rest on his shoulders. He met Bruce’s eyes. “This wasn’t your fault.”

His libs wobbled and he whispered, “But if I were like you guys, I would’ve seen something earlier. I didn’t and now…” sighing, he added, “and now Lucius needs a new heart, or he’ll die.”

Bruce’s sigh was heavier than (Y/N)’s and it made his chest heavy. “We’ll get Lucius a new heart, (Y/N).”

He lowered his head and lamented, “I’m sorry, dad.”

His father squeezed his shoulder then lead him towards Dick and Jason. “Take (Y/N) back home for the night. I’ll stay here with Lucius’ family.”

They nodded and led their brother down the hall, arms firm across his shoulders in a comforting way. They didn’t say anything, knowing that there wasn’t much to offer, but their support was enough for (Y/N), even if he felt horrible.

***

For being the World’s Greatest Detective, his son was evidently the World Best Hider, because it took Bruce a long time to finally find (Y/N). He stepped quietly over to the form sitting on the ledge and took a seat beside him, silently gazing out at the backyard. A bottle appeared in his vision and he focused on it as the smell of whiskey reached his nose.

“Where’d you get that?” he asked but took the bottle anyway.

“Jason gave it to me earlier.” He watched Bruce take a sip. “Figured it fit the occasion.”

Bruce chuckled. “That sounds like Jason’s way of dealing with a problem.”

They sat in a comfortable silence for a while, passing the bottle back and forth, simply enjoying the calm around the manor and night.

“You know it wasn’t your fault, right?” Bruce suddenly said.

(Y/N) sighed and set the bottle down, kicking his legs out off the roof. “Lucius said he hadn’t been feeling well recently. And I just passed it up to getting older.” He looked at his father. “If I’d actually paid attention, then I would’ve seen the symptoms.”

“Do you actually know what the symptoms of heart failure and heart attack are?”

“I…no, not really.”

“Then you couldn’t’ve known.” He looked at (Y/N). “Lucius works in my office every day. If anyone should’ve known and seen it, it should’ve been me.” Bruce shook his head. “But you did everything you could at the awards ceremony, and that saved Lucius’ life tonight. You did good.”

“I could’ve done better.” (Y/N) muttered. “I should’ve. I’m your son and I’m practically useless to the family but—”

“Woah, woah,” Bruce interrupted, brows furrowing as he asked, “What are you talking about?”

(Y/N) turned to him. “I am the least useful person in this family. I mean you and the guys are these crazy intelligent, vigilante master detectives and I’m just me.” He wiped away a tear that fell from his eye. “I can’t speak seven different languages or solve murder cases with a single strand of DNA left at the scene of a crime. Hell, I can’t even throw a punch.” He sighed heavily. “The last time I tried, I broke my hand.”

Meeting his father’s gaze, he said, “I just want to be like you guys.” He lowered his head. “I just want to be normal and not an outlier in the family.”

Bruce simply stared at him for a long moment, and while he’d never been privy to let his emotions show on his face, he let them this time—shock and shame. Shame that he didn’t see his greatest achievement suffering.

“(Y/N).”

He didn’t look up at first, but then he did. “Yes sir?”

“How long have you felt like this?”

(Y/N) shrugged. “Forever?”

His father sighed. “Son, I…I never wanted you to be like us.”

He gaped at Bruce. “What?”

“(Y/N), every person in this family is driven to do what we do because of our childhoods. You’re the only one who doesn’thave any skeletons in his closet.” He stared at him. “We wish every day that we could be like you and not a day goes by that we don’t think that.”

“I…what?” he floundered, absolutely bewildered at the idea that his father and brothers wanted to be the most boring person ever. “There’s no way that’s true.”

“It is.”

“No.” (Y/N) huffed. “I’m me. I’m plain and boring, work a nine to five job me. I mean I write for a magazine for god sakes! And you guys save the world!”

Bruce chuckled. “And what we wouldn’t give to be just a bit more normal like you, son.” He shrugged. “You think you’re inferior because you’re not a vigilante, but you’re the one thing that keeps us all sane. You give us the perspective of someone who isn’t what we are. Of someone who’s completely normal.”

He reached over and placed a hand on (Y/N)’s shoulder. “And being normal? Being you?” Bruce squeezed firmly. “I don’t want you to be anyone else.”

(Y/N) gazed at him, and though he felt tears in his eyes, he didn’t blink, didn’t let them fall. “I’ve only ever wanted to make you proud.”

Bruce smiled heartfully. “You do, (Y/N). Everyday. Because you’ve always been the best of us.”

[awheckery]

so. uh.

cut for frank discussion of chronic illness and the serious failures of the american healthcare system. tw for fatphobia and gaslighting.

Last July, I got sick. It wasn’t too bad at first: some fatigue, body aches and a slightly elevated temp, until suddenly it was bad and I wound up in the ER. It took three rounds of steroids, a round of antibiotics and a more powerful inhaler to get my feet back under me, but I never fully recovered.

I didn’t talk about it here, except for answering an ask in October and blaming my lack of creative output on depression. It really, really wasn’t depression; it was my health progressively collapsing, one system after another until the avalanche of symptoms that flattened me just after New Year’s.

For the last four months, I’ve spiked a fever over 100°F nearly every single day. My joints hurt. My knuckles are knobbly and swollen, and occasionally my fingers are so painful and weak I’ve had to literally tape my pen to my hand at work. I get rashes at random that itch so badly I claw myself bloody. I overheat and have hot flashes in temperate rooms. The skin on my face and neck and shoulders turns red and hot to the touch, like I’m burning for hours with no immediately discernible provocation.

Some days, I wake up and I don’t have the strength to get out of bed. Some days I can’t wake up at all. I’ve slept through deafening alarms for hours, long enough for my phone battery to run out and die. I can only stand up for ten minutes a day without being hobbled by the effort, and every extra minute beyond that I pay for in hours spent bedbound by exhaustion and pain.

I keep losing words. I’ll arrive at the middle of a sentence and stumble to a halt, because the word I need isn’t there. It’s not true aphasia, and it’s not all the time. I comprehend written and verbal communication perfectly well, but I can’t get my own thoughts out without tripping over them.

I am, to quote a friend attending school to be a nurse practitioner, “a textbook case for SLE,” and I agree, but somehow I can’t pay a doctor to treat me seriously.

In January, I was referred to a rheumatologist after the bloodwork my PCP ordered indicated I had autoimmune activity of some kind.

To date, that’s my only test for anything that’s come out definitively positive for any kind of disease state at all. Ever. I tested negative for celiac disease on a technicality nine years ago, despite how specifically and intensely sick gluten makes me, so I was dismayed but not too surprised when follow-up bloodwork for lupus came back just barely inside the range of “normal.” Despite that, I wasn’t prepared to be jerked around as much as I have been.

The first rheumatologist I saw, back at the end of January, had barely been in the exam room for thirty seconds when I could see he’d already made up his mind about me. He was dismissive and perfunctory and condescending when he told me that “plenty of perfectly healthy people have positive ANA results,” and he referred me back to my PCP for an exercise program and antidepressants to treat my “fibromyalgia.”

Putting aside that I’m not a “perfectly healthy person,” I’m a Fat Lady living in America, and I’ve experienced medical fatphobia for decades at this point. You learn the key words and phrases pretty quickly, and “exercise program” has never not been a euphemism for “weight loss.” (Which is heavily ironic in this particular situation, because before I was Fat, I walked 2-3 miles a day for funsies and spent 15-20 hours in the gym every week. I only stopped because I somehow shredded both my ACLs in one summer. I’d love to get back to that if a rheumatologist could help me figure out how to be active and uninjured at the same time.)

I was frustrated after that first appointment, enough to request a referral to one of the best teaching hospitals in the country. Why not go to the best, right? There was a five month wait for an appointment, but I am stubborn, and I made use of the time by documenting every bullshit symptom my body threw at me. I have a daily symptom journal, full of subjective entries like my pain and fatigue levels, as well as objective entries like daily temperature changes and photos of my rashes and my burning face and my goddamn mouth ulcers.

I thought I had enough logged to be impossible to ignore, and then I saw the second rheumatologist three weeks ago, and the first sentence out of her mouth was the beginning of an interrogation on my blood pressure, and whether I was taking medication or if I was on a fucking exercise program for it. I tried to get the appointment back on track by sharing my symptom diary, and she turned back to my just-under-the-wire test results, and told me, “many healthy people have positive ANA results, it doesn’t mean anything without other positive test results for specific conditions.”

I said, “Healthy people don’t run a fever for months.”

And then she told me that a "fever is not associated with any of the conditions a rheumatologist treats." I was so startled by the confidence and authority with which she stated the lie that I was unable to speak to rouse a defense or contribute anything else for the rest of the appointment. After an insultingly brief examination, in which I never took my face mask off and she declined to look at any of my photos, she said that she “didn’t see anything that could be rheumatologically wrong with me.”

I asked her what she thought could be wrong with me, and she grudgingly admitted it’s possible, though rare to have an autoimmune disease and test negative for everything, so she would order more tests and refer me to appropriate specialists for my various symptoms. She ordered a referral to an infectious disease specialist for my fevers, and a referral to a dermatologist for my “rosacea” (that she’s assuming I have, because I would like to again note she did not see it, at no point did she actually look at my face or a photo of it), and a referral to an ENT for a salivary gland biopsy for my dry mouth, and a referral to a neurologist for my “stroke-like” memory and speech problems.

It was, all told, an unbearably shitty appointment. I cried in my car for an hour in the hospital parking garage so I wouldn’t do anything impulsive like lying down in traffic, and then I went home, cried some more, and went to bed for three days.

On the fourth day, I woke up enraged. It’s one thing to be blown off by a doctor when you’re just reporting symptoms without proof, it’s a wholly different thing for a doctor to ignore your proof and lie about diagnostic criteria to your face.

It’s hard enough not to think you’re crazy when your test results come back negative over and over; it’s that much harder after being told that your major concrete measurable symptom is diagnostically irrelevant, when it really, really isn’t.

(for the record, just going off the symptoms I can concretely prove I’ve experienced in the last week alone, I land a 16 on this chart, which is the most up-to-date, widely agreed-upon diagnostic criteria)

I have decided, for the moment, to play ball. I don’t have the energy to jump through all the hoops this rheumatologist wants, but I'm angry enough to drag myself through them. Tomorrow I’m supposed to see the infectious diseases specialist. On Wednesday I see the dermatologist. In two weeks I see the ENT, and I’ve got a neurology appointment tentatively scheduled for December.

I’m going to be blisteringly forthright with all of these doctors about why I’m there, and that I’m looking to exclude diagnoses other than the lupus I pretty obviously have. (Except with the ENT. Apparently they treat allergies, and I’d like to be able to go outside long enough to walk a dog, someday.)

I’m supposed to see this rheumatologist again at the end of November. Depending on how this week’s appointments go, I’m aiming to either move up my appointment with her when one becomes available, or just send a firm yet diplomatic email asking why the diagnostic criteria apply to everyone but me.

If anybody else has gotten through this fucking nightmare successfully, I’m open to suggestions, it’s not like it can get worse at this point.

[bokutoslittlebird]

Regrets

Alpha!Ushijima x Beta!Reader

Author’s Note : This took longer to get done than I expected I’m so sorry ; do be warned, this is angst. It ends angsty. Do not read if you cannot handle angst (like me) ; in most of my Omegaverse stories, the bonding mark is considered to be permanent once it has been placed and there is a lingering scent of the Alpha that placed it, which never goes away ; I listened to My R and thus, the ending was born ; yes I like teeth how did you know

Warnings: rut cycle, reader’s at Shiratorizawa, best friends to lovers (kind of), teeth, biting/marking, cunnilingus, somnophilia (kinda), breeding, pregnancy, unrequited love, angst, ruined friendship, suicide (via roof), mentions of loneliness, alcohol

When you woke up to your phone buzzing beside you, you didn’t expect Ushijima to be calling you with such a desperate tone in his voice.

“I need your help,” his voice crackled over the phone. Blinking the sleep from your eyes, you glance at the clock on your phone. You did have a break from school around this time, but you thought you could sleep in.

“Um, sure, what do you need, Wakatoshi?”

“I’m,” his hesitation scares you. “I’m experiencing my first rut,”

The ride to his house was filled with anxiety. An Alpha going through a rut meant he needed to be taken care of. Some Alphas were fine just having them without help, but Ushijima’s mother had him on strong suppressants from a young age. Ushijima probably didn’t even know what a rut was until he began to experience symptoms, and that worries you. Alphas go through their first ruts at a younger age, able to learn about their body and understand it. A grown Alpha, however? They would need someone to relieve the stress and tension from their first rut, which is where you come in.

Apparently, his coach had told him to go home and take a break to wait out his rut, but Ushijima has never had one. So, the coach advised him to call his girlfriend to help him, or even a friend, which is why he contacted you first. His other friends were male Alphas and Betas, all of whom would probably be horrified if he called them. When he woke up, his rut had begun and he could barely think straight, able to only focus on the overwhelming desire to breed an Omega. Although not an Omega, you were able to simulate the same scenario, being a female Beta and all.

“The fuck is this?” your murmur is lost to the wind, footsteps stopping in front of Ushijima’s house. It was large, fancy, and you could probably get lost in it. The fact that Ushijima lives alone on the property stuns you. Despite your hesitation, your desire to help your friend has you going up to the door and ringing the doorbell. Ushijima doesn’t answer, so you decide to knock. Without another answer, you decide to call him. When the phone rings thrice, you begin to panic. Twisting the doorknob, you find it’s unlocked for your convenience. Gently pushing into the house, you glance around and try to locate the large male. Since you’re not an Omega or Alpha, you can’t smell his rut, but you can hear the pained groans from upstairs.

The floorboards creak under your weight, you slowly and carefully going up the stairs. You know an Alpha in a rut can go absolutely feral, but you don’t know if Ushijima will attack you. The noises get louder as you creep to what you think is Ushijima’s bedroom, the door cracked open a sliver to reveal part of what is inside. Indeed, there is Ushijima, his large back rippling with muscles as he hunches over something. A growl comes from him, head snapping to the door where you’re standing. You find your feet frozen as his olive eyes set on yours. A beat passes with no noises, only the wind from outside brushing against the windows and the walls.

In a flash, the door is banging against the wall as it’s ripped open and your back is shoved to the floor, Ushijima’s naked body looming over you. His face is against your neck and your pulse is rapid, adrenaline high from the sudden movement. Hesitant hands go to his sides, a calming movement of you patting his skin to let him know you’re here. Despite the intense stare, the force of getting to you, he doesn’t move anymore. Inhaling and exhaling against your skin, you’re suddenly at a loss of what to do. His tongue flicks out and runs along your neck, going up to your ear before he gently bites on the lobe. A simple action that has you yelping, back slightly arching. His growl from your slight movement has you whining, feeling his hard cock against your leg.

Due to the circumstances, your attire consisted of a skirt for easy access, which you’re grateful for when your legs are pushed up and spread. Strong hands keep you pinned, the position suddenly new and giving you a feeling of lightheadedness as Ushijima puts hi face closer to your clothed cunt. Hot breath fans over the slightly damp material, his movements and noises sending you into a state of arousal.

There’s no words spoken, his body giving into his instincts as he uses his teeth to remove the cotton material and access the glistening mine underneath. His tongue flicks out once more, thick and flattened against your slick skin as he collects the droplets of nectar that dribble out. With eyes lidded, they occasionally glance to see your head twisting and turning, moans and heavy pants leaving your mouth as his tongue laps at your folds and everything it can reach. The feeling of his lips closing around your clit has an automatic response of clenching your legs, but his hands keep you in one position as he sucks and licks on the sensitive bud.

The feeling is intense, the sudden hurling over the edge as your muscles tense, head lifting from the floor as your eyes roll and Ushijima groans right into your cunt. The slurping noise that accompanies his grunts and groans is obscene, something you wouldn’t think him to be capable of. Yet, when his head moves from between your legs, the shimmer of your excess juices is being swiped up with his thumb, pink tongue darting out to drink it all. Eyes find yours once more and the same feeling overwhelms you, the feeling of your blood turning to ice and a feeling prickling at your skin. Unmoving, Ushijima decides to take it upon himself to spread your legs once more, his hard cock pressing against your thighs.

He doesn’t move.

Your confusion is evident in your face, you think, as Ushijima clears his throat, words straining as he gets them out. “Am I..” He takes a deep breath, restarting. “Am I allowed?”

“I wouldn’t be here if you weren’t, Toshi,” your kind smile and eyes full of love has him pushing into you, your eyes soon screwed shut as your back arches. Even if you could have prepared for this moment, nothing would have compared to the feeling of his cock slipping into your walls. Squelching noises come from where he’s entered you, hips rolling as he rocks himself deeper into your heat. The feeling of being split in two finds to be true as he continues to push in further, cock twitching as it forces your walls apart to take it all in.

Ushijima forces your legs into the same position from before, a scream coming from you as he somehow reaches your sweetest spot from the change. He moves your legs to go over his shoulders, planting his fists beside your head as his arms bend. You’re allowed only a moment to prepare, his hips moving only to slam against your skin that has your breath being ripped from your lungs. Nails grasp at his shoulders, red lines forming on the tanned and sweaty skin as you hold on, body jostling with each thrust. As he continues to ram his cock into you, you find your mind filling with pleasure as your second orgasm rises. The release comes quicker than anticipated, cunt clenching and sucking him in. Ushijima growls, loud and feral, in your ear as you do, that has your walls creaming around him once more. The creamy fluid drips down your ass and to the base of his cock, the squelching and squishing noises becoming louder and more obscene as his pace picks up.

Your muscles tighten once more, cunt squeezing tightly as Ushijima forces his knot inside of you. The feeling of his cock pushing past your walls could not compare to the force of which his knot slipped into you, plugging your cunt up as his cum fills you. With his seed gushing into you, the hot sensation of it painting your walls that has you sucking him in deeper, milking him for all his worth. But he’s not satisfied, rutting his hips against yours as he grunts and growls, keeping you close to his chest with his head in the crook of your neck. His lips press against your feverish skin, hot and sweaty from the activity. Your mind is hazy and your vision is blurry, feeling overly sensitive from the short hair brushing against your clit. Another orgasm comes from his continuous rubbing, walls constricting around him as your visions dots to black.

The last thing you feel is a sharp pain in your neck.

The week continues to go by, similar sessions which concludes of Ushijima forcing you to have your legs pinned to your chest or over his shoulders. Each time his seed spills into your cunt, you question if he’s gotten you pregnant. Every time you wake up, you’re on a different surface than what you passed out on with Ushijima looming over you. Once your eyes meet his, he’s either diving his head between your legs or he’s pushing his thick cock into your swollen pussy. It isn’t until the last day do the remnants of your friend come shining through, his libido much less than it had been at the beginning of the week. Together, with momentary breaks for him to fuck you, you both clean up around the house from his first rut. Jokingly, you take pictures to remember your adventure of being split open on his dick.

When the rut is over, you feel well rested as you prepare breakfast for Ushijima. He’s back to sleeping in his own bed, alone, so you slept downstairs on the couch. The floor creaks under the weight of the man himself, seemingly also well rested after his feral and instinct leading week. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better. Thank you for your help,” he bows, then sits at the table. You set down a plate of steamed rice and tamagoyaki in front of him. “And thank you for breakfast,”

“Well, I’m your best friend, doesn’t that mean I should be there for you?” You giggle, setting down a plate for yourself. Upon sitting across from him, you feel Ushijima’s gaze on you. “Do you need anything else?”

“I feel like I need to apologize if I put any rifts in your relationship,” his words easily come out, making you cough as you inhale some rice. After drinking water to help it down, you ask him to clarify. “Your mark. You’ve bonded to someone else, have you not?”

“Um, oh, no! This is from you, I think,” you say, unsure of when it happened. The week went by in a blur and most of your time was focused on how good you felt. “Don’t know who else it could be,”

“Then I am sorry for that. Bonding marks are supposed to be between lovers who plan to stay together for life,” he moves to bow once more, but you stop him.

“Please, don’t worry! We could always, um..” you trail off, unsure of how to confess to him. Even though he’s railed you all over his house, that was because of a necessity. This was much different.

“I should have told you before, but I called you because I didn’t want to scare away my fiancée,” he says, going back to his food as you feel your heart, your entire world, shatter with that one word. “She is an Omega, the daughter of my mother’s friend. It was arranged for us to marry shortly after graduation, but she has been busy with her family business. I was worried she’d be scared away if I asked her to take care of my rut. I am sorry if,” he pauses, looking at you with regret in his eyes. “I am sorry if I lead you on, by any chance,”

“No, that’s fine! It’s just.. marks are permanent. I won’t be able to be with anyone, because I’ve been claimed,” you can feel the tears as your words come out. Ushijima doesn’t do anything. “Wakatoshi, this is a big deal. With this, maybe your fiancée would understand?”

“I cannot cancel the marriage for a girl I accidentally bonded to. With this new development, maybe it would be better if our friendship ended here,”

“No! We can be friends!” Your lack of hesitation seems to startle him, your outburst startling yourself, even. Clearing your throat, you continue. “My friendship with you is more important,”

“I’m glad you feel that way,” he smiles, then goes back to his breakfast. You smile, sitting back down in your seat, yet your appetite is gone.

Another week goes by, but it feels much longer and slower than the past week each day you feel worse and worse, remembering Ushijima and his words. It isn’t until you have physical symptoms that do you go to the internet to see if a broken heart can do such things. When pregnancy is recommended, you panic and look further into pregnancy and symptoms. Then, you’re running to the store to buy three of them to make sure or to prove you wrong. They determine your fate.

When each test reads positive, you tell Ushijima. Instead of a response, you get nothing. He’s read your message, but it hasn’t been answered. No apology, no responsibility, no yelling, no phone call. It just makes you feel worse, knowing not only did he bond to you, but he laid his claim to your body with his seed. Nobody wants someone who’s been used up, never mind that his scent permanently lingers on you from the bond. When it gets harder to hide your symptoms, you confess to your close friend about what you did. Instead of being on your side, they turn their nose up at you.

“You should have been prepared for this. You willing accepted to help him during his rut. Take responsibility for your own actions, he has better things to do than deal with a child he never wanted,” they say. It doesn’t help your mental state at all, finding all your friends who you expected to take your side turning away.

With the society, abortions are unavailable. An Alpha’s child is as important as an Omega’s child, while Betas are forced to conform to the rules. Every doctor you go to tells you that unless there is a serious health risk, you will carry the child to term. Even with that rule, your family tells you that you should have thought it through. The feeling of being alone in the world breaks your sanity, obsessing over what could have been with the friend you’ve been in love with.

On the roof of your school, you listen to the match playing. The Schweiden Adlers versus the Black Jackals, a common rivalry in the Division 1 league. The stadium isn’t far from where your school is located, easy to find on the roof. The night air of Miyagi fills your lungs, but the stinging in your eyes isn’t from the wind. As Ushijima goes to serve, his team only needing one more point to secure the win, the commenters mention some trivia about the player.

“I believe Ushijima is expecting to be a father in- what was it?” One of them begins, looking to his colleague to continue.

“A father, yes! I believe his mate is currently one month pregnant, conceiving right after their official marriage,” he says.

The roaring of the crowd can be faintly heard through the earbuds, lying on the concrete roof. Your phone continues to play the match, live, as it sits beside your shoes. Yet, you aren’t wearing them. Looking out across the rooftop, you find where the stadium is through blurry eyes, tears streaming down your face. Holding onto the railing, you climb over it and situate yourself on the edge, staying on your tiptoes as you take in a deep breath.

With the wind, the stars, and the moon as your witnesses, you confess to the man who stole your heart. “I love you, Wakatoshi.”

The last thing you feel isn’t the coldness of the air, it isn’t the burning of your throat and eyes, it isn’t even the sting in your lungs from crying so hard.

It’s the feeling of being free as you fall against the night air.

[bragabrainstorm]

My Abortion Story aka Still Not Sorry

The 15th anniversary of my abortion is a couple of weeks away. I originally posted my story on ImNotSorry.net two years after the procedure. I’m still not sorry and have since told my story verbally to whomever needed to hear it, usually women who are grappling with making this decision themselves. I show them that an abortion is not intrinsically saddled with guilt and regret; on the contrary, it is still the best decision of my life.

Monica’s Story

I knew as soon as it happened that I was pregnant. I waited until the day I expected my period (I’m very regular) to take a test. As I wanted to keep it private until I knew for sure, I went to the ladies’ room at McDonald’s on a Sunday morning and sure enough, for the first time in my life, I saw a positive result on a pregnancy stick.

I’ve known for years that I do not want children – it’s just not for me. My boyfriend with whom I had been living for nearly two years was a traditional type, and although we had never discussed it in depth, I pretty much knew that he only believed in abortion for medical reasons.

I sat him down one afternoon and told him I was late. I lied and told him that I took a pregnancy test, that it was negative, and that I would be going to my gynecologist to double check things. When I mentioned that we should discuss our options, he was confused and angry. As far as he was concerned, there were no options. He made it clear that if I were pregnant and chose to have an abortion, that he would leave me. At that moment, I knew that not only would I have to have an abortion, but I would have to do it on my own and keep it a secret.

On a Saturday morning a week later, I went to a nearby clinic alone. I was saddened only by the fact that almost every other woman in the waiting area had someone with her – a parent, friend, or a man by her side, holding her hand. But more than anything, I was relieved to be there. I just wanted to get it over with. I had to get it out of me before I showed any symptoms. I was four weeks along.

The staff was incredible and very comforting and supportive. There was a sweet nurse who held my hand the whole time and explained what was happening step-by-step. I was awake for the whole procedure, except for a brief moment when my blood pressure dropped and I think I passed out. It was painful, but if I had been sedated, I would not have been able to drive myself home.

It was over and I was relieved. But I was also so angry! I had gone through the most emotionally intense situation I had ever experienced…and my boyfriend had no clue that any of this was happening to me! I just wanted some kind of support from him, in some form or another. So I told the biggest (and, quite honestly, the best) lie of my life. I told him that I had gone to the doctor and that I had, indeed, been pregnant, but had a miscarriage. I told him that because of the miscarriage, I would be bleeding heavily and would not be able to have sex for a month until my follow up. Ignorant as he was of women’s issues, he didn‘t question any of it. This lie, as big and “wrong” as it was, was necessary and killed two birds with one stone. He acknowledged that there had been a loss and comforted me the way I needed to be comforted.

This happened two years ago. I have since left this man and am happier than I have ever been. I have NEVER regretted my decision or how I had to go about doing it. It was the most unpleasant thing I’ve ever had to do (the abortion itself and all the sneakiness), but I’m proud that I was strong enough not only to have gone though something as traumatic as this, but that I was able to do it on my own.

[tomtenadia]

Remember Us - 8

Weekend surprise!

-----

Rowan had another tough week.

His headaches had been almost constant and some days worse than others. He had bouts of dizziness and on a couple of occasions he had felt disoriented and confused again. He had been terrified. All of a sudden he had no idea where he was, who he was and it just sent him back him in the hellhole of the first days he had woken up.

Aelin had took him to the hospital and his doctor had ran some test and explained that what he was experiencing were some common symptoms with a head injury. The spells of disorientation should disappear soon but he had said that headaches might linger a bit longer. He had prescribed some painkillers but Rowan had decided to take them only when the headache was unbearable. The first time he took them he was knocked off for an entire day and did not like the idea.

That morning he was home alone. Aelin was at work, Thomas at his nursery and Evalin had taken Freyja with her while running some errands.

He was sitting on the sofa with a book in his hand. He had asked Aelin to show him the book where Thomas’ namesake was. He had joked saying that he was keen to meet his competition.

Things between him and Aelin had improved. He still had his fears, he was still scared of not being enough for her but she had been a constant presence at his side and never pushed. They had shared some nice moments and in bed at night he had started sleeping with her in his arms and his hand on her belly.

Slowly he realised that the feeling he had for her had been real. His attachment to her was growing day by day. More memories flooded back and in the past few days their friends made an appearance as well and he had talked with Aelin about those moments and now he could put names to faces. They had discussed the possibility of meeting them in person, but Rowan was not sure how he felt about it yet. A part of him wanted to, was curious, but the other felt terror at the idea.

He sighed and went back to the book and read the same page for the millionth time. He had discovered that he was also struggling to concentrate, another annoying side effect. Exhausted, he placed the book on the coffee table. He was about to go back to bed but someone rang the buzzer of their house. He was not expecting anyone. So he stood, grabbed his walking stick and reached the door. Once he opened it he found a tall dark-haired man with a baby carrier at his chest and a baby in it. Lorcan. The man was Lorcan. His partner at work. Aelin had filled him in.

“Hi,”

“I am Lorcan,” said the man.

“I know.”

“Sorry, I was taking Allison for a walk and I got to this area and decided to pop in for a visit.” He explained “I can go if you don’t feel like having visitors.”

Rowan shook his head “I guess I need to start to interact with the outside world.”

“Fancy some fresh air?”

Rowan thought about it and nodded. He hadn’t left the house since he came back from the hospital. “Let me change.”

He came back a few minutes later and left a note to Evalin, explaining that he had gone for a walk with Lorcan “you need to be my guide, I have no idea where to go and how to get back home.” He locked the door behind him and pocketed phone and keys.

“Don’t worry. I checked with Aelin and she said that it was okay if you felt like it and that fresh air might do you good.”

Rowan nodded and took a deep breath of fresh air. “Just don’t run, I am still very slow.”

“I was just going to the park down the road. Elide is at work today so I am on babysitting duty.” And caressed his little girl’s head.

The baby was fast asleep against Lorcan’s chest. “She looks lovely.”

“She is her mother’s daughter, she is basically an Elide in miniature.”

They walked in silence to the park and then sat down on a bench and Rowan sighed in relief. That had been the most he had walked and his leg complained. It was getting better and Dorian had recommended to keep using it as much possible to get used again to the weight on it. Also, he had muscle mass to rebuild and the man had given him exercises to do at home.

“Silly question, but how do you feel?”

Rowan sighed “definitely better than a few weeks ago. Memories are coming back and it’s not as scary anymore as it was before.”

“How is it going with Aelin?”

Rowan paused and looked at the park around him. That was a loaded question and he always had to sort out his feelings “We are growing closer, or actually is me. My feelings for her are slowly getting clearer.”

Lorcan chuckled “you two will go back being attached to the hips in no time.” And the comment surprised Rowan “as soon as you two decided to stop fighting you became this disgusting cheesy couple. You have been together forever,” he continued “and after what you have been through, this is a stroll in the park. I am not sure another couple would have survived it.”

Rowan looked away, the pain of those memories was always vivid. He had dreamt the night she had woken up in a pool of blood. He had wondered the same thing. How their marriage survived that level of loss.

“Elide would probably make fun of me for saying this but you are soulmates. Elide and I had to work hard, mostly because of me. Before her I was not the relationship type.” He told him, rocking gently from side to side to prevent his daughter from waking up “you and Aelin had a deep connection from the start, even when you called her a spoiled brat and she called you obnoxious bastard. There was something there, among all that fighting and you were the only ones who did not see until much later.” Lorcan kept talking and Rowan listened interested. He needed to know more about them and this was exactly what he needed. An outside perspective on his relationship with Aelin “that bond, that connection brought you back together after those dark weeks.”

“I felt it since the first time she stepped in my room after I woke up.” Then he looked at the man and decided to learn more about their relationship.

“How did we meet? You and I.”

“Uni.” Said Lorcan with half a smile “First year and first day. We sat at the back of the class. I showed up with no pen or paper for taking notes thinking it was not needed for our first day. But the professor dove straight in. So you gave your spare notepad and spare pen.”

Rowan laughed at the memory.

“We became friends instantly.” Allison stirred so Lorcan stood and paced in front of Rowan “Once we graduated we applied for jobs and we landed in two big law companies but after two years you left them and then a while later you came to me with a plan. I resigned the next day.”

“Do you regret leaving a high paying job?”

Lorcan shook his head “not in the least. It was driving us mad and killing our lives. We had no time for anything. Too many ungrateful bastards to deal with. Elide and I broke up for two months because of it. No, I have no regrets. What we do now is good. We actually help people.”

Rowan played with his wedding ring in a nervous gesture “what if I can’t get back to my old job?”

“You have probably heard this a lot, but take your time. Things are under control. When you feel ready you can ease back in, but there is no rush.”

Rowan sighed “I need something to do. When Aelin is not at home Evalin looks after Freyja to give me space.”

“You probably still have your law books. Get them out of storage and read and see if anything comes back. If not, they are handy if you are struggling to sleep.”

He laughed and in that instant Allison woke up.

“And she is awake.” He gave the girl her pacifier “come on I’ll take you home.”

***

Lorcan took him back home and Rowan was now back on the sofa trying to go back reading the book but only managed a few pages before the headache came back.

He groaned in frustration and then paced a bit around the house like a caged animal. He stopped at the window and looked at the tree in front of the house and he had an idea.

Slowly he reached the closet and found a few spare duvets and grabbed one of the colourful ones, then a couple of pillows and dragged them outside. He had to abandon his walking stick so the job had proved harder, but not as hard as the second part of his plan. He had to get the stuff in the treehouse. The weather was nice and he was going to prepare some adventure for the kids. He had no idea what, but he would think of something. Climbing the wooden stairs with the duvet in his arms had proven hard, but now at the top he dropped the blanket and took a deep breath then very carefully made his way down and grimaced at the pain in his leg. With a heavier limp he made his way back in the house and grabbed a backpack and started to add some toys, books. Then he found battery powered fairy lights in the closet and grabbed those as well. Finally he grabbed the pillows and left the house once more and went to the treehouse. Rowan climbed half the stairs and threw the backpack inside, then grabbed the pillows and finally got in the house and sat down ignoring the blinding pain in his leg. He had gone too far for one day.

Crawling around the place he started spreading the blankets to make it cosy and warm, then the pillows and eventually he attached the fairy lights around the walls. He switched them on for a moment and the effect was perfect. He laid out the books, the toys and eventually lay down to relax.

He had finally managed to read a bit more of the book and was now engrossed, Thomas was still the alleged bad guy but he had just discovered that he had confessed that the enemy had taken POW and begged his captor not to glass the base that still had their people on. He had started to like the man and could start to see why Aelin loved him.

He reemerged from the book when he heard some familiar voices. With caution he crawled to the edge and popped his head outside and saw Aelin with Thomas in hand and Freyja in her stroller pushed by Evalin.

“Good afternoon,” he greeted them. 

Aelin lifted her head and gasped when she saw him inside the house.

“Dad!” Shouted Thomas, freeing himself from his mother’s grip and running to the wooden ladder.

“Careful,” Aelin was at his side and helped the boy climb.

“Fancy joining me?” Rowan extended his hand to Aelin and she smiled.

Evalin nodded at her daughter “go, I’ll take the stroller inside. Stay with your family.”

Aelin lifted Freyja in her arms and slowly climbed the ladder. Rowan waited for her at the top and grabbed the little girl and allowed Aelin to climb easier.

When she reached the top and peeked inside she gasped “did you do all this?”

Rowan gave her a grin and nodded “I was bored and I tried to do something so we could spend some special time as a family.” He winked at her and Aelin kissed him “I love you,” she whispered and he kissed her back. He could not utter those words yet but he wanted to show her how much he cared already.

Aelin lifted the blanket and squeezed underneath after she and Thomas had removed their shoes. Rowan sat at her side and brought her close to him. The kids sat in front of Rowan in between his legs. Thomas passed one of the books to his dad but Aelin took it. She knew Rowan was still struggling with reading for prolonged time “now, is everyone cozy?”

Thomas screamed all excited and leaned his head against his father’s chest and Rowan placed a hand on his head and Freyja snuggled closer as well.

Aelin pulled up the blanket to cover them and tucked under Rowan’s arm and opened the book

“In a distant and magical land there lived a princess. She was young but loved her kingdom very, very much…”