#TW Medical-based trauma

[truths33k3r4]

(CONTENT WARNING!- Nightmares, medical-based trauma and situations! Panic!)

CHAPTER 10- Never Again

“Raphael.” Leo tightly warned, raising his hands onto the sides of his brother’s face. His normally calm tone plummeted into the negative degrees, replacing the warmth of brotherly concern with the chill of interrogation. Unfortunately, this was the only strategy that worked on his stubborn little brother. Kind, gentle words only added another brick to his growing wall of pride, coming off to the fiery sibling as demeaning and condescending instead of loving. The eldest deeply regretted how long it took him to realize this fact about his brother.

 It would have saved them both a lot of heartache growing up.

 Instead of getting lost in the past, he shoved his way back into the present, where his brother was shaking and crying, and not telling him why.

“RAPH. I am warning you- If you don’t tell me what’s going on in the next three seconds, I’m going to drag your shell to dad.”

Leo allowed a faint snarl to escape through his teeth, hoping that his go-to threat would work like always. In all honesty, he wasn’t sure if he would be physically able to haul Raphael to his father’s room- Despite how much the eldest had trained, Raph had always been faster and stronger. 

That didn’t aggravate the eldest in the slightest.

Not… at… all.

“I said I’m f-” Raph began, attempting to twist his head out of Leo’s grip, but the eldest’ hands remained planted on his brother’s face, snapping Raph’s gaze back to his icy irises. 

“You. Are. Crying.” Leo pressed in harsh whispers as he tightened his grip to emphasize how seriously worried he was becoming with each second. “You don’t do that. That’s not a thing that you do, and worse- you’re doing it in front of me… So…”

The eldest’s vice-like grip softened to a small caress, wiping away another escaping tear off his brother’s face. Leo’s harsh glare melted with the true warmth he felt for his hurting brother. 

“... I know something is seriously wrong.” He whispered with a gentleness his brothers all knew well. His breath shuddered as his hands slid from Raph’s face down to his shoulders. “You… were held hostage at some- s-some mad scientist’s lab for over two weeks, Raph… I have no… idea… what they did to you…”

Leo watched as Raph’s eyes kept overflowing with silent tears, reminding the eldest of a wordless history filled with pain and devastating fear that had been plaguing his brother for weeks. 

Leo couldn’t hold back the memories of finding his missing brothers at that horrible lab, rushing through the doors of the facility, maneuvering his way through the halls to the sound of screaming.

His brother. Screaming.

. . .

Don’s freckled face was nearly unrecognizable without his signature glasses and violet-hued mask. Those monsters had taken away all their gear- leaving them more or less naked and unidentifiable; Inhumane. Nothing but another creature for those psychos to study and pull apart… Not only had those heartless heathens stripped him down, but they had also strapped him down to the confines of a reclining chair via leather straps that painfully dug into his skin. 

Don’s expression began as listless while he focused on breathing through the pain of whatever vile concoction was being injected into his veins through an IV. But then a sudden realization sparkled behind his heterochromatic irises, and Leo nearly shattered into a million pieces when his genius brother locked eyes with him for the first time in weeks.

“R-Raph?...” The freckled brother shakily called, as he leaned forward, squinting his eyes.

The frail sound of his sibling’s plea for familiarity and safety sent an arrow of guilt piercing into Leo’s heart. Before another second could be wasted, Leo ran to Don’s side. With a quick shuffle into his belt, the eldest pulled out a pair of glasses, sliding it oh so gently onto his freckled brother’s face. Once Don’s breathing steadied, he looked up and lost his breath all over again. 

“Leo…” He gasped in between shuddered breaths. “LEO!!!” 

With the cry of the eldest’s name, Leo began to hurriedly disconnect all the equipment from his brother, who was now softly sobbing and shaking his head as if this was all just a dream. 

“T-This… This can’t be real…” 

Leo couldn’t even reply as he carefully began pulling out the IV from Don’s bruised arm with all the gentleness he could afford. Tears of relief and shame and love and sadness all poured from his face as he set right to work on un-doing all that had been done to his beloved sibling. He rapidly wiped away his tears as he reached behind to pull out one of his twin katanas. With a number of practiced swipes with his blade, all the straps that once held down Don fell to the floor. 

Now freed from his confines, Don arched himself forward, trying to push himself off the heightened medical chair. Slowly, and with Leo’s help, he finally had both feet on the floor, but not for long. As if a large gust of wind shot through the room, Don’s body began plummeting to the floor in an exhausted heap. As soon as Leo sensed his brother’s weakness, he swiftly sheathed his katana and reached out. Within a matter of seconds, he was on his knees with Don pressed tightly into his arms.

“I’m here! I’m here- I’m so sorry. I love you- I love you I love you-” He cried out, finally being able to say what had been on his heart for the last eighteen days.

“Leo…how…” Don quietly sobbed into Leo’s neck, smothered yet crystal clear, “How did y-you? H-how are you here? Are y-you okay? Did you… Did you find R-Raph?”

Leo winced in sympathy as he listened to the gravelly scratches carving their way painfully into Don’s throat with each word he spoke.

“Shhhh. Shhhhh.” Leo whispered into his brother’s ear, “You need to… to rest.” A whimper weaseled its way out of Leo’s throat, leaving his whole body shaking with emotion and adrenaline. He was supposed to be the foundation of his team; the stronghold that would protect his brothers no matter the costs- the firm walls that would keep his family safe from the cruel, outside world.

And yet here he was, dissolving into shifting sand in his beloved brother’s skinny arms. His facets of honor and maturity crumbled into broken shards of childishness as he let out a painful sob, finally unleashing a grain of the agony he had carried on his shoulders during the weeks of his brothers’ capture. The doubts and fears that plagued his sleepless mind were finally put to reassured rest.

Don was okay.

The stale air of the lab made Leo’s skin tingle with discomfort as he latched onto his little brother with all his might, vowing right then and there that he would never allow this to happen again. With a sense of determination he had not felt in some time, he pressed further into his brother, spreading warmth where only shadow and pain had touched. Each bruise and bandage littering his little brother’s skin was a testament of the eldest’ failure to protect those he loved.

Never again.

The moment was abruptly sliced in half as a blaring alarm began to scream.

~

Leo blinked. And there he was again, kneeling at Raph’s side, with his hands on his shaking brother’s shoulders. 

“It… It was a nightmare.” Raph simply shrugged, though his voice wobbled and shuddered like a glass cup during an earthquake. 

After wiping away the last hints of tears, Leo sighed with the tiniest glint of a smile.

Still playing the tough guy… But at least he’s speaking again.

Leo released one of his hands off of Raph’s shoulder and planted it onto his knee, steadying his own swaying form from the sleep he was currently missing.

“Do you want to talk abou-”

“-No.”

Before his sore legs gave out underneath him, Leo flopped down onto his butt with a somewhat content sigh, using his arms to hold him upright.

“Should've guessed…” He whispered as he slouched back. The smile on his face was still present, alighting the cold, dark room with a small ember of warmth. “Well… I’m… here when you’re ready to talk.” 

Raph turned his face to look down at his brother, silently contemplating Leo’s offer.

 The eldest would be lying if he said it didn’t hurt how cautious Raph was being around him. He’d noticed it for years, slowly watching as hour-long conversations after practice would turn into quick, hollow “hey”s before his fiery sibling briskly left the room. Late nights of reading comics and trying to catch their favorite movies on tv slowly lessened as Raph wanted to be by himself more. 

In all honesty, despite his own pride, Leo couldn’t blame him. He and the second oldest would get into horrible fights growing up. Every small conversation turned into a horrible argument. Any compliment had poison at its tip, sharp and designed to sting. And no sooner had those hurtful words escaped their lips, their fists began flying.

Leo once noticed, mid argument with Raph, that Don had carefully guided himself and Mikey out of the room. One more glance revealed tears falling out of his baby brother’s eyes, and a hardened, disappointed glare across Don’s face.

His and Raph’s actions had begun to affect his brothers. That’s when it became clear that something needed to be done.

So he and Raph just- stopped talking. Leo did his very best to back off unless necessary, and slowly over time their home became quiet again. 

But silence is a two-edged sword. What can be felt as peaceful can also be sensed as cold and apathetic; The natural quiet of a forest’s winter trails compared to the restrained hostility boiling under a volcano’s depths.

A cover-up. A simple bandaid rather than a full surgery. 

Not enough.

Through the years, Splinter had begun training Raphael in better handling his temper. Every day before practice, Leo would see Raph sluggishly dragging his feet into Sensei’s room, and through the door, he, Don and Mikey would listen in on some of the fiery brother’s lessons from their father. Splinter would guide Raph through his Bible, reviewing verses of pride, arrogance, and the need for love to be in the world. He then went over how important it was as christians to show Christ’s love to others. And especially, the ultimate need for that love to be in their home.

During that time, Raph wasn’t the only one Sensei honed in on. Seeing how Leo was half of the problem in the arguments bringing unwanted chaos into their home, he too had to be taught many lessons. The Bible verses his dad focused on weren’t very different from the ones he overheard Raph learning. Huh. Interesting. One specific lesson planted deep roots into Leo’s heart, leaving an impact that would be with him for years to come:

“Your love for your brother needs to outweigh your longing to win.”

And then… one day…

Raph appeared climbing down from the forbidden manhole cover with a shattered wrist and a bleeding crack chipped into his plastron. No matter how he was asked, persuaded, comforted, or threatened, Raph never told anyone how it had happened.

After that day everything began to change. 

And then about a year ago, he and Raph started talking again. 

Even now, as Leo looked into the eyes of Raphael as he finally calmed down from his panic attack, he could see the tenderness and healing within his troubled brother’s soul. Compared to the others in his family, Raph held the record for how many physical scars he had. For a long time, the brothers held him with the highest honor, as if he were a victorious war hero returning from battle… But Leo knew better now. The deep slash across his little brother’s eye was dealt by his blade. An accident, yes, but a permanent reminder of his past recklessness as a child; A lasting testament of who he could never be again.

As for Raph’s second scar- the small lightning bolt cracked into his upper plastron…

… Leo still doesn’t know where its origins stemmed from. And the fact that Raph had held that secret within, warns the eldest of unseen battles that were being fought behind thick, impenetrable walls. Battles he may have helped to fight, had he thrown down his own barriers.

Those times were long gone, and he would not squander the second chance God gave him.

Before he could stop himself, he opened his mouth again.

“Okay… New subject-” He said as he sat up and leaned his elbows onto his crossed legs. “...Maybe this will help get your mind off of your nightmare. If you could think of anything to geek out about to me- right now- what would it be?” He asked with an inviting grin to his more-than-cautious brother.

Raph’s confusion only showed through his expression for a few seconds before his eyes were looking to the side, pondering over Leo’s question. “Uh…” He thought, tapping at the blankets draped over his legs. “... I guess… How kids’ tv shows go too easy on ‘em.” 

Huh. Oooooookay.

“Alright! Tell me about it.” Leo gestured vaguely with his hands at Raph, waving them in swooping motions to propel his anxious brother to keep going.

Raph’s nervous expression returned, but he persisted through his anxiety, sitting up as well, and playing with the blanket fibers between his fingers.

“Well… you know… Nothin’ real happens in them. Like- Okay listen to this-” Raph said, as a miniscule spark ignited behind his irises and spread to his expression and posture, silently revealing that Leo’s plan was working. 

Leo nodded with a small, but growing smile.

“Tell me, oh Team Medic, what would happen to a person if they fell off a three story building?”

Leo sat back with a sigh as his brain began pulling out pristine files from its shelves.

“Um… my personal guess would be they’d have at least a broken ankle, if not a seriously sprained knee…” He listed, as he began counting with his fingers for each injury that came to mind. “...Possibly a concussion depending on how they handled their landing- and most likely a good amount of scrapes and bruises to the knees and arms.”

Raph nodded emphatically to Leo’s medical diagnosis, gesturing stiffly with both arms as if to say THAT’S WHAT I’M SAYIN.

“RIGHT. So- ya know- there’s a thing called uh, what was it again- CONSEQUENCES.” Raph shout-whispered, still keeping his voice small, but making sure his words made up for the lack of volume. “So, you tell me, how… does FRIENDSHIP save you from breakin’ your neck after falling off a flippin’ building??!!” He quietly roared. Somehow.

Leo had to stifle a chuckle as he watched his brother become as animated as the cartoon shows he was complaining about. It was hilarious to see such fire in his brother’s eyes that didn’t spark from anything occurring in the real world. 

“That… doesn’t make any sense, dude.” Leo attempted to speak, but was unceremoniously interrupted by a snort escaping his nose. “Gah-geez!” He hurriedly whispered to himself as he smacked a hand over his mouth to somehow smother his growing laughter at the situation. 

Raph’s passionate expression softened at the sight of Leo fighting for his life to keep the serenity of their bedroom so his little brothers can sleep. Then his kind smile crackled and sparked into a mischievous grin.

After what felt like an eternity, Leo had finally gotten his laughter under control, plastering a stoic expression over the small gusts of laughter still tucked away in his throat. But all that hard work was blown to oblivion as Raph began to cross his eyes and flare his nostrils. Before the eldest could stop himself, another snort shattered the peaceful silence of the room.

My one weakness- THAT LIL BRAT-

In utter defiance and revenge, Leo thrust himself forward onto his knees and slapped Raph’s arm in playful, empty warning. With a hushed hiss he chittered,

“YOU STOP THAT THIS *SNNRT* THIS INSTANT, YOUNG MAN-”

“Ya mean turtle?~” Raph winced as he rubbed at his slightly stinging arm.

Then the brothers went silent as they took a single second to think. At that moment, they pointed to the other and whispered simultaneously, “ Mutant.” And then they were both fighting for their lives to not wake their brothers.

Despite their best efforts of shushing each other, smacking their hands over the other’s face, and trying to regain stoic countenances which always backfired, they were quickly interrupted by a meek, worried voice.

“Don?” 

Raph and Leo’s laughter was snuffed out instantaneously as their immediate instinct to protect their brothers pushed past any humor with full force. 

“Mikey? What’s wrong?” Leo asked with a slightly raised voice since Mikey was in the bunk above Raph’s bed. “Why are you calling to-” 

Leo’s sentence fell away into the shadows surrounding the bedroom as he gazed at Don in his bunk bed, cradling his head between his clenched hands. Shaking.

“Don?...” Leo asked, again raising his voice since Don’s bed was further away. At his call, the freckled brother turned his head slightly, the glistening of tears shining as they fell in threads down his face. 

“DON!” Leo outwardly cried, no longer attempting to remain quiet as the newly revealed emergency played out right in front of him. He pushed off his knees and used Raph’s mattress to propel himself off the floor into a quick sprint across the room. By only running on instinct to protect his brother, he didn’t have to think as he effortlessly leapt over the spare mattress and climbed up the ladder to Don’s bunk, landing in what Mikey would call a “spiderman pose”. 

“Is he okay?” Raph called from the ground, as Mikey briskly flipped off the side of his bunk, landing perfectly, and rushing to Raph’s side.

Leo suppressed a deep groan.

Mental sticky note- REMIND MIKEY to not risk damaging his ALREADY HEALING ANKLE.

With a disgruntled sigh, Leo turned his attention back to Don. In the moment he had, he ploughed through the medical checklists he could think of, assessing what was wrong with his genius little brother. However, it was clear without any medical expertise that Don was having a panic attack.

Him too?... What is going on?

Suppressing his growing questions, the eldest reached out his hand and placed it on Don’s trembling knee. Over the years, Leo found that physical contact worked as a solid anchor for his frightened brother; a grounding force that would pull his mind away from the fantasies that plagued his logic. Don had explained to him that when someone was having a panic attack, they were losing themselves to the lies in their mind. In order to remedy this and pull them out of it, they needed a firm foundation of truth to stand on. 

“I’m alive.”

“I’m not dying.”

“I can feel my heartbeat.”

“I can hear my breathing.”

“God is with me.”

“I’m safe.”

Leo stretched forward to place more pressure on Don’s knee.

“You’re alive, Don. You’re not dying.” He spoke firmly.

“Mmmhmm…” Don grunted as he shakily lowered his hands from the sides of his head, and slid them down to the nape of his neck, pulling down with constant pressure.

“You’re home. You’re not alone. I’m right here.” Leo pressed further both verbally and physically.

“Y-Yeah…” Don breathlessly agreed, as he tried to take a deep, calming breath.

“Whatever you saw wasn’t real. It was just a dream, okay?” 

Don’s expression twisted at those words, and he stuttered, “That’s.. n-not true, L-Leo… It… wasn’t as m-much a nightmare, as it was a m-memory…”

Leo’s own expression fell at Don’s fragmented words sputtering and glitching like a tv set trying to hone in on the right signal. He hated seeing his intellectual brother so shaken like this. Don had never been one that needed to fight his own body just so he could speak. Normally his rants and logistics would smoothly escape his lips, coming out clear and precise in neat rows filled with elongated vocabulary. 

Only one thing would have stolen that from him; something so scary and traumatic that it would resonate and affect him now.

“You dreamed about the lab, didn’t you?” Leo whispered at a volume barely audible as he slid closer to Don’s now relaxing form. He lifted his hand from Don’s knee onto his shoulder, but still kept a grounding pressure.

Don, once again at a loss for words, simply nodded his head defeatedly.

Not needing any more confirmation of Don’s condition, Leo pulled himself closer and held out his arms. Don had to know the option was there if he needed it.

At first, the freckled brother simply stared at Leo’s outstretched arms, as his pupils zipped back and forth in consideration. Then after he properly reviewed his options, he gently shook his head. “I think I’m okay now.” He sighed, gripping onto the soft, fur blanket over his legs. “I’m… okay.”

Leo nodded in understanding before he was forcibly pushed to the wall of the nook as Mikey and Raph joined him on Don’s bed.

“Don, ya good?” Raph asked in genuine concern for his twin, searching his brother’s expression and body for any wounds. 

Don nodded with an exhausted but real smile.

“Are you sure?? You were crying, bro. Last I checked, computers can’t cry.” Mikey playfully nudged Don’s arm, but the smile on the youngest’s face read of no ill will. “You want to talk about it?”

Don’s smile fell a little as he made eye contact with Raph, and both twins sighed in mental understanding. 

“I think he’s alright now.” Raph spoke up quietly, as he started pushing Mikey onto the ladder. “Let’s give him some space, Mikey.” 

Despite the youngest fighting and squawking in obvious displeasure, Raph remained persistent and continued down, pulling his little brother with him. Leo couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

“...T-Thanks, Leo.” Don whispered, as he stretched out and placed his hand onto Leo’s arm. “I really… appreciated this.”

Leo’s smile brightened as he tapped his hand onto Don’s. The cool texture of his brother’s smooth skin brought its own wave of comfort to him, reminding the eldest of a truth he had unknowingly taken for granted for years:

They’re home.

Before any more tears decided to fall, Leo wished his brother good night and slid down the ladder, making his way back to his mattress, saying one final, silent prayer.

Thank You, Lord, that my brothers… are home. Thank You that they’re here and safe. Please continue to guide them as they recover from their time in the labs. Please guide me with what to say to them. And…

 Thank You for giving me a second chance.

Aaaand that's it for this chapter!

Man alive, it feels so good to be back. This chapter took a while to figure out because of the scenes with Leo and Raph- There were many options that I had to choose through over how Raph would react to Leo trying to calm him down from his panic attack- but this version won out in the end. :) To quote a very important Book, "Laughter doeth good like medicine". So I knew how I wanted this scene to go. :) As has been a running tradition in this book, there is a lot of hidden storytelling in this chapter~ Especially regarding Leo and Raph.

Feel free to reblog and share!

BIG THANKS TO @poetique823 FOR YOUR HELP!!! <3

@indieyuugure @writer-in-wonder @allyheart707 @oddartistl3 @risebabyx2 @joyjoygorl @carrots-bear @imagionationstation @howtotrainyourdragonprince @jasminegazer @brightonstudios @ninjaturtlefan-dee @rottmntlover14

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To God be the glory!

~ Melissa

MASTERPOST <- PRIOR CHAPTER NEXT CHAPTER ->

[glamorizethechaos]

Labor of Love | Jack Abbot x Reader

Summary: Getting pregnant with Dr. Abbots baby was never in your cards. From a sloppy one night stand to a passionate relationship, Jack becomes the protective boyfriend you always wanted. Going into labor a month early, Jack ends up delivering your baby himself.

A/N: I have literally never written smut a day in my life so this is strange for me but IM TRYING, OKAY? Catholic guilt goes crazy.

TW: 18+, accidental pregnancy, implied age gap, childbirth, preterm labor, probable medical inaccuracies (what know about childbirth is based on my own experience giving birth myself. shit sucks btw.), fluff, poorly written smut

Word Count: 3.3k

Not Beta Read

You had always hoped your child would be conceived after a night of romance. Something out of a movie. Perhaps a candle lit dinner followed by passionate love making? Growing up in the age of Nicholas Sparks novels certainly skewed your romantic view of the world. You certainly never expected it to be with your stone cold attending Jack Abbot, in a night of well...alcohol fueled fucking. Jack putting you in positions you didnt know were humanly possible, and having you making noises you didnt even know you could make.

"Thats it baby, give me more." he growled into the crook of your neck as he fucked you through your second orgasm. Slowly stroking in and out of your squelching cunt as your body arched and contorted beneath him. Your moans echoing through his loft apartment. His rough hands anchoring you as he stretched you out, his cock fitting almost perfectly inside of you. He loved watching you lose control, your eyes rolling back with each deep thrust, your toes curling as he hit that spongey spot that made you come undone.

And he wasn't finished. You see, Jack was a gentleman, chivalrous as some would say. He took his time. He didnt dare let himself reach his climax until he was pleased with his work. Until he felt your pussy squeezing and throbbing against him, gasping for breath and beginning for his cum. He fucked slow and deliberate, stretching you out- filling up every single inch. Only when until you demanded he fuck you faster…harder, did he really lose himself in you. Your legs resting in his broad shoulders, him holding onto your thighs, fingers digging into your soft flesh.

The sweat dripped down his forehead as he fought to stay in control. You were so tight, twitching around him with each thrust, it felt euphoric. Just when you thought you had nothing left, his hand traveled down to your swollen clit, drawing circles with his thumb, rendering you breathless.

"Fuck, Jack..." you whimpered. Your breathing was erratic- mouth dry, longing for his tongue to explore yours once again. He knew you were close again, it didnt take him long to discover what made you tick, and what made you lose all control.

"That's it, good girl. Let go." and thats all it took for you to erupt. He fucked you ferociously through your orgasm, the bed crashing against the wall with each thrust until he collapsed on top of you. You both struggled to catch your breath. 

No wonder the condom broke.

When you stood the bathroom of the Pitt looking at the two blaring pink lines it felt like you had the wind knocked out of you. You saw your entire residency crumble beneath you. You contemplating not telling him, writing a script for mifepristone and misoprostol yourself. But after work that night, you found yourself at his apartment. Your hand hovered over the door before you heard a voice behind you.

"Y/n?" Jack stood with his backpacked slung over his shoulder, wondering what the hell you were doing at his place. After sleeping together weeks prior not much changed between you. You never spoke of it and carried on like work colleagues. Maybe he stood up a little straighter when you walked by, maybe your cheeks felt flushed whenever he brushed up against you during a trauma.

By the look on your face, Jack knew something was wrong. He fumbled with his keys as you stepped aside enough for him to unlock the door. He pushed it opened and ushered you in first.

"I'm sorry, I know that was a rough shift b-"

"Whats going on? You alright?" he cut you off, kicking off his work sneakers and setting his stuff down by the door. He watched as you fumbled in your bag, searching for the positive pregnancy test that seemed to be buried under your empty snack wrappers and old receipts. You hesitated before pulling it out of your bag.

His hand hovered before reluctantly taking it from you, looking at you beneath his furrowed brow. He had been to war, he had been surrounded by complete destruction, he had seen the worst of humanity, and yet he had never been more scared than in this moment. He inspected it, flipping it over, holding it up to the light, but the two lined were as clear as day. Dark. Blaring. Indisputable.

“I’m sorry. I-“ you couldn’t find the words. Your mouth opened and closed liked a fish out of water as your thoughts faltered.

“Why are you apologizing?” Jack asked, confused, dry and deadpan.

“I don’t know."

"It’s not your fault. I mean I was there too.” He said, nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

Your eyes burned as the tears began to well up, blinking ferociously to stop them from falling. However soon one fell, and then another, and another. Before you knew it you were sobbing in Jacks arms. The two of you stood there for what felt like an eternity as he traced circles along your back. It felt strangely comfortable, his arms holding you against him, the smell of sweat and antiseptic on his scrubs filling your nose.

"What do we do?”

“We figure it out. If you want to keep the baby or if you don't, we figure this out. You aren't in this alone. ”

And you did. As your bump grew, so did your closeness and love for each another. You almost missed the first time he told you he loved you. You were cooking him dinner, something you loved to do despite your multitude of food aversions. Hips swaying side to side to a spotify playlist as you glided around his kitchen. He was trying to watch the Steelers game but kept finding his eyes on you.

“I love you.” He called out quietly. You felt your heart jolt.

“Huh? Did you say something?” You asked in disbelief, turning down your music to make sure you heard him right. Jack hesitated, trying to gauge your face and reaction before repeating himself.

“I said, I love you.” And he took you right there on the living room floor, fucking you senselessly as the pasta boiled over on the stove. You ordered takeout that night instead.

However, aside from in the bedroom, Jack wasn’t especially affectionate, especially not in public; and while he tried to make more of an effort, he didn’t say “I love you” often. But it certainly wasn’t lost on him.

You found him reading books about obstetrics in his free time, he instinctively put his hand on your belly when a patient was being especially combative, he signed the both of you up for a childbirth class where he took notes, or he would text you “you craving anything?” on his way home from the hospital on your nights off. All the subtle things he did made you realize he was completely and utterly head over heels in love with you.

The first time Jack felt the baby flutter, you don't think you had ever seen him so happy.

On mornings after a particularly rough shift, and Jack couldn't sleep from the adrenaline, the two of you would watch the morning news until one of you eventually folded, usually you. His hand rested on your swollen bump that you could no longer pass as bloating to your nosey coworkers. Of course Dana was the first the sniff it out. Jack rubbed circles on your belly, it helped calm him, ground him, and have at least something to help keep his head above water. Suddenly he felt a little kick, jumping up so quickly he almost tripped, running his fingers through his hair with the dumbest smile on his face.

"Did you feel that? Was that my baby girl?" he started to pace, unsure of how to process this other worldly experience.

"Girl?" you chuckled, raising your brow, "How are you so sure its a girl?" the two of you decided you wanted to be surprised. You were certain it was a boy, but he shot down all the baby boy name suggestions because, "it didnt matter anyway." He liked the name Grace.

"Yes, my girls are both right here. Hi Gracie girl." he knelt down next to the bed, rubbing and kissing your belly as you rolled your eyes.

But the comfortable bliss of the second trimester was short lived as you entered your third. Growing more and more uncomfortable as the weeks pass and your bump grows. You don’t want to be touched, your back hurts, waking up nearly every night from heartburn, and those damn Braxton Hicks contractions making your abdomen tighten like a vice grip.

After every shift, Jack meets you on the couch to rub your swollen feet, not before checking your blood pressure of course.

“Jack, I don’t have pre eclampsia.” You’d protest and the cuff tightened around your arm.

“You know just as well as I that it can sneak up on you quick… 118/72…”

“See? I told you I was fine. I’m swollen because I was on my feet for the past 12 hours.” You elevated your legs on his lap, kicking his thigh with your foot before he started to rub them.

“Are you sure you’re okay working? You can always go out on maternity leave early.” Jack was particularly protective of you right now, no matter how many times you protested you didn’t need light cases loads at work. He’d make you take frequent breaks, and show up at the nurses station with a water bottle and crackers. You spent more time in the bathroom from all the water he made you drink rather than tending to patients.

“So I can sit at home and go stir crazy? No way. I’m only 36 weeks. I have a month left of this hell.” You threw your head back as he massaged a particularly tender spot. You took a long bath and changed into one of Jacks Army t shirts and a pair of his sweatpants, his clothes were the only things that fit you comfortably at this point. The shirt was ratty and nearly falling apart at the seams, but it was your favorite to wear. His smell embedded into the fabric no matter how many times it’s been washed. The sleeves stretched from his biceps that you loved to bite and nibble on when you two laid together.

You crawl into bed next to Jack who has already pulled down the blackout curtains and turned on your white noise machine you can’t sleep without. He looped his arm around you, nuzzling his head into your damp hair that now smelled of lavender and lemon verbena. It wasn’t long before you felt his breathing slow and his arm grow heavy over your bump.

You tossed and turned, feeling incredibly restless. Unable to settle, you flipped on the bedside lamp and started reading one of Jacks medical journals, hoping your eyes would eventually become too heavy to fight it. That feeling never came. It felt as if though you just ran a trauma, adrenaline coursing through your veins. You decided to go for a walk, your back aching, stopping ever so often to breathe through those damn Braxton Hicks. God you were so over this.

You spent the rest of the day cleaning whatever you thought was necessary. The baseboards, the inside of the freezer, and the top of the fans that you made him dust only last week. Had Jack known you were on top of a ladder, he’d have had a conniption. Soon you heard Jacks alarm go off and him shuffle out into the kitchen, his eyes tired and heavy.

“You get any sleep baby?” He asked, planting a kiss on the top of your head.

“Not really. Just too restless.” You shrugged as he poured himself a cup of coffee. You watched at he changed into his black scrubs and threw some extra things into his backpack. Today was your night off.

There was a gnawing feeling in the pit of your stomach, sometime inside screaming for Jack not to leave. You shook it off. Maybe it was just the indigestion. He grabbed an apple off the counter to eat on the way in. He held it in his mouth as he zipped his sweatshirt before taking a bite.

“You need anything before I head out?” He asked, grabbing the keys to his pickup. You watched the clock behind him, timing the minutes between the pains in your lower abdomen.

It’s just Braxton Hicks. It’s too early. You’re probably tired. Dehydrated. No, no, it’s just too early.

“Baby?” Jack called out again.

“Oh no I’m fine. Have a good night, my love.” You walked over, lacing your hands around his waist and planting a tender kiss on his lips, tasting the apple he’d just eaten. Then another twinge in your stomach. How long had it been?

8 minutes.

20 minutes.

5 minutes.

15 minutes.

3 minutes.

Something was happening. These felt different than the Braxton Hicks contractions that plagued you for weeks. Water. You had the primal urge to be in water. You ran another bath, submerging your belly, holding onto the sides of the tub as the surges continued to come, and then a low groan. You were vocalizing now. You had to be in active labor. You sat there for 2 hours, adding more hot water to the tub whenever you caught a chill.

Before you knew it, it was 6 am. You wanted to call Jack. You needed him. But he’d be home soon, God willing.

You no longer could concentrate, low, guttural moans escaping your mouth during peaks of your contractions. You didn’t even have a hospital bag packed. You started throwing stuff into a bag, none of it made sense. A tooth brush, a t shirt, a scarf. What? Why would you need a scarf? The pain was too intense. Why was this all going so fast? This was your first baby. You’d heard horror stories your entire pregnancy of women laboring for 24 or even 48 hours.

When you heard the jingle of his keys and the knob turning, you were hit with the strongest contraction yet.

“Ba-,” As Jack opened the door his eyes widened. He immediately threw his stuff down and rushed to you, who was leaning over the kitchen counter, rocking your hips and moaning. “Baby how long have you been like this? How far apart are your contractions?” The birthing classes immediately kicked in, bracing himself behind you and giving you hip squeezes until the contraction passed. It felt like heaven.

“They started before you left for work… and uh… 3 minutes now.” His face fell.

“Why didn’t you call me?” He asked, your face in his now shaking hands. Before you could answer you were hit by another contraction that now sent you on your hands and knees. He grabbed a cool rag and placed it on the back of your neck as you roared. The counter pressure he applied to your back no longer offered any relief. He coached you through the contraction that felt like it would never end, and all you wanted was for him to shut the fuck up. Suddenly the lights were too bright. His voice was too loud and your shirt was too tight.

“Off.” Is all you could say and you tried to take your shirt off yourself. Jack helped pull it over your head, the fabric peeling away from your damp sweaty skin.

“Baby, I wanna check you.” He asked, putting on gloves he grabbed from his bag. After giving him a nod, he rested one hand on your back before checking your cervix. He cursed under his breath. “You’re 9cm and 100% effaced. We have to go. Now.”

“But I’m only 36 weeks” you began to cry as you were hit with another contraction. Getting to his truck felt like ages. Stopping what seemed like every 30 seconds to double over through another surge. The second you sat down in the passenger seat you felt a pop and a gush between your legs. Your water broke.

“Thank god I laid those towels down first, huh?” Jack tried to joke through shaky breath as he barreled out of the driveway. You didn’t find it funny.

The hospital was a 15 minute drive, 30 with traffic. Unfortunately for you both, it was morning rush hour. You couldn’t sit, undoing the seatbelt you braced yourself against the headrest. Jack trying to rub your back with his free hand.

“Want your birthing playlist?”

“Fuck you!” Is all you could muster.

And then the urge. The incredible and uncontrollable urge to bear down.

“Jack… I have to push.” And his face went white. He quickly pulled to the side of the road and jumped out, grabbing his go-bag from the back seat before sprinting to open the passenger side door. He could see the baby start to crown and immediately pulled out some gloves, a fresh towel and his stethoscope from his bag. You always teased him about this go-bag. He couldn’t wait to tease you about this later.

“Okay my love, I see baby’s head. She’s almost here. She’s got a head of hair!” He was STILL so set on this baby being a girl. His voice cracked from fear and emotion that he was about to deliver his own baby.

You felt the ring of fire, your legs shook as you tried to push past the burning pain.

“I can’t do this! I can’t fucking do this!” You protested, still on your knees, now leaning over the center console.

“Yes you can baby, listen to your body. You’re doing so good. The hardest part is almost over. We’re gonna have a birthday today.” And you screamed again, pushing as hard as you could, the veins popping out of the side of your neck, your face growing redder and redder. You roared your baby out. Then relief. Sweet, sweet relief.

Jack caught your baby in his hands, his eyes clouded with tears that immediately began to fall. He helped your turn back over and brought your sweet baby to your chest.

“It’s a girl!” Jack sniffled. He was right. He was always fucking fight.

“Why isn’t she crying, Jack?”

“Just give her a minute. Rub her back.” he pulled your shirt down again to do skin to skin. He’d by lying if he wasn’t panicking too. “Come on baby girl, let’s hear those strong Abbot lungs.” And then you both heard it. The most beautiful shrieking cry from your little girl. You threw your head back in relief and he rested his forehead against your temple, crying. You’d never seen him cry before.

“I just had a baby in the car, Jack.” You looked at him, in a daze. High on adrenaline and oxytocin.

“And you were a rockstar.” He kissed you before checking you and the baby before continuing to the hospital. You delivered your own placenta as you stared in awe at your little girl. She had his nose, his eyes, his chin… the more the looked the more you realized she was a spitting image of her father. Of course YOU do all the hard work for her to look nothing like you.

Jack pulled into the ER ambulance bay to find Dana already outside smoking a cigarette. He jumped out and screamed for a wheelchair. Snuffing the cigarette out with her foot she rushed over,

“What’s going on, Jack?” She had already paged Robby at the sight of him, looking dazed.

“It’s y/n, she just had the baby in the car. Page the NICU, baby seems fine but she’s only 36 weeks. Placenta delivered and intact.” He gave her the rundown before opened the passenger door to you latching to your breast the baby for the first time. You could not take your eyes off of her. Robby came out once he heard the page to find everyone huddled around the truck, helping me into the wheelchair.

“What’s this?” He asked, a goofy smile on his face.

“This is your niece, Grace Michaela Abbot. Michaela after her Uncle Mikey.” You smile up at him, absolutely beaming.

[creamsoda1998]

Night Nurse mentioned that Charles' cause of death was hypothermia and internal bleeding, and I'd like to dive deeper into the discussion about internal bleeding.

Here are some thoughts on Charles’ death and his chance of survival in 1980s.

TW: Detailed discussion of major injury The information below is intended to be roughly medically accurate, but I’m not a trauma surgery specialist, so please feel free to share corrections!

Although the Night Nurse only mentioned internal bleeding, the term generally refers to bleeding within the abdominal cavity, particularly from organs like the spleen or liver, which are highly vascular and prone to damage from trauma.

However, based on anatomical positioning, these organs are protected by the rib cage. Considering the size of the rock, the angle of the throw, and the cushioning effect of the lake water, it seems unlikely that the impact directly caused organ damage.

A more plausible explanation would be that Charles sustained his injuries from being hit or kicked by his so-called "friends." This theory also aligns with his rigid stance in the lake, he likely didn’t dare to run or fight back because stepping out of the water might have led to another beating.

Blunt abdominal trauma caused by physical violence can lead to internal bleeding, most commonly from ruptured spleens and livers. Other potential injuries include damage to the intestines and pancreas.

The spleen and liver are particularly prone to bleeding, with the severity depending on the amount of blood loss and the extent of tissue laceration. These injuries can worsen over time.

Liver lacerations might be managed with embolization (though this technique wasn’t as advanced in the 1980s) or surgery, while splenic injuries generally require surgical intervention.

Given the likely mechanism of Charles’s injuries, multiple organ damage is plausible, and such cases almost always necessitate surgery.

Patients with less severe organ damage might survive under conservative observation, but Charles only survived a few hours (while also likely dealing with hypothermia). This suggests that his organ damage was significant, potentially with severe bleeding (as the body can sometimes lose a staggering amount of blood before losing consciousness), or his condition deteriorated rapidly.

Even if he had been transported to a hospital from school, the chances of saving him would have been slim.

Additionally, even if Charles had survived surgery, being immersed in lake water would have significantly increased his risk of developing aspiration pneumonia and wound infections, alongside other possible complications from abdominal surgery.

All things considered, the internal bleeding caused by blunt force trauma might not be visually obvious on screen, but it would have made Charles experience more pain and gradually grow weaker, which absolutely breaks my heart. Moreover, it reveals that what seemed like a sloppy "teach you a lesson" act was, in reality, no different from murder. I really, really hope Edwin does something to those bastards.

[miramelo]

A little Birdie told me...

It Made me so happy that a LOT of you guys liked my latest au!!

To answer a few questions in no particular order, Danny doesn't suddenly make Joker a better person. I based the Joker of this au in a few issues I saw where he shows a little bit of care or twisted love.

There's one issue where instead of killing a Man he just cuts a few fingers off since he met the guy's kid, there's one where he took in a monkey as his son and It looks like he mourns him when he dies.

I see Joker being a narcissist type of parent,he cares for Danny AND he DOES love him! But is not pure, Joker sees Danny as perfect, the kid he dreamed of.

They might snap at eachother but they end up playing nice at the bat of an eye

In this au Ace AND Joker JR are did happen, I figured he had a back up double that doesn't retain ALL of the old Joker memories so he doesn't remember Batman nor Robin identities

Danny has a lot of BIG mood swings, they can be blamed not only to trauma but also to "medication" he takes (Joker venon)

He has issues when It comes to the bats: thinks of Batman as his other dad because JR was created 'cuz Joker wanted to have a laugh at his dear ol' Batsy AND Danny was changed because he reminded Joker of JR. calls Batman Da' and Joker Pa'

He projects A LOT on the red haired librarian, she's so nice!! And makes him think of Jazz(sometimes he thinks she's Jazz when he can't quite understand what's real and what isn't)

A few early sketches under the cut

Tw for teeth and scars

[kanalynn]

Xeno, Stanley x Mikan Tsumiki! reader headcanons

characters: Xeno Houston Wingfield, Stanley Snyder

based on: reader is based on Mikan Tsumiki (danganronpa franchise)

summary: [Name] Tsumiki is a Japanese exchange student who is interested in medicine and is a nurse-in-training. She is quite timid and fragile due to the abuse she suffered in the past.

author's note:

• English is NOT my first language

• May contain OOC

• Do not copy or steal my works!!

• I guess this is the last or one of the last headcanons, I'm already tired of writing them, I've been doing nothing but them all week (although I really like them)

• tw: mentions of abuse

• Mikan's character and past are very complex topics, which makes it very difficult to imagine the reader in her place, so I'll simplify things a bit in these aspects - [Name]'s story will be very vague, the only thing we know for sure is that she was subjected to severe bullying. Her personality will still be similar to Mikan's, but her trauma is not as severe: she is more adequate and does not think that bullying is better than indifference - but she still feels a little uncomfortable when she is not noticed at all.

• Basically, [Name] is like Mikan Lite

Xeno Houston Wingfield

❛❛ I-I... F-forgive me, Xeno... I'm so useless... I- ❞

❛❛ Now, now, please don't cry, [Name]. You're not useless at all. You know, I'd even say you're one of the most elegant people I've ever met. ❞

❛❛ R-really? ❞

❛❛ Of course, would I lie to you? You're the most capable, amazing, incredible- ❞

• [Name]'s first meeting with Xeno was very... unusual. You could even say embarrassing. The thing is, the girl bumped into him in the hallway while she was rushing to her first class at a new school and fell. In a very revealing position. And she screamed so loudly that she attracted the attention of everyone around her.

• Xeno, as a true gentleman, tried his best to avoid the indecent spectacle that was unfolding on the floor, but still helped the stranger up and took her to the nurse office. Probably, at first he considered [Name] extremely inelegant, but as soon as he found out that she was knowledgeable in science, was interested in medicine and was a nurse-in-training, his interest was awakened.

• All the following lessons he sits next to [Name], tries to talk to her and learn more about her. She is very nervous and timid, and this makes Xeno a little wary - for some reason he himself begins to worry about her, but, of course, does not show it. In any case, soon he still managed to find topics for conversation with her and, it seems, even become her friend.

• At first, all their communication was reduced mainly to scientific and medical topics, however, slowly and not soon, they began to get to know each other better. Xeno likes [Name], he really appreciates her, her abilities and her desire to help others - but he is still worried about her timidity and lack of self-confidence.

• Xeno is both surprised and not surprised when he realizes his feelings. [Name] is a wonderful person who shares his love for the natural sciences, and if you think about it, it could not be anyone else. He is very careful with the confession, delivering everything as softly and sensually as possible, because he does not know how she might react. Probably, [Name] will assure him that he is imagining things and that he could not love someone like her - but Xeno will persistently assure her otherwise and wait for her consent for as long as it takes.

• Luckily, he does not have to wait too long, and [Name], although with great uncertainty and apprehension, accepts his feelings; they begin a relationship.

• Xeno has always been very careful with [Name], and when he learned about the bullying she had suffered in the past, he seemed to become even more careful. He is trying his best to restore his girlfriend's confidence and ability to defend her boundaries, and it seems he is even succeeding.

• Science is one of the most important, if not the most important, parts of Xeno's life, so the fact that he wants to do some kind of experiment with [Name] to show her the beauty and elegance of science is nothing special. He often even asks the girl to help him - although she constantly tries to refuse, citing her clumsiness and uselessness, he always stands his ground.

• Xeno calls [Name] his best assistant and helper - and he is not being disingenuous when he does this. He truly believes that no one can understand him and help him better than her.

• Xeno probably even hopes that after finishing school, when he will work at NASA, [Name] will really become his full-fledged assistant... He understands that the girl wants to become a doctor, and is going to study to be one after school, but he can’t help his desire not to part with [Name].

• [Name] loves horror movies, in her words, “because of the blood and helpless people.” Xeno doesn’t even find this a little strange: he himself, perhaps, is interested in how, elegantly or not, the next victim will be killed.

• At first, [Name] tends to apologize to Xeno very often for all her actions and behavior. He, of course, doesn’t like it - this is another of her charts appeared because of bullying, and he hates to think that she suffered so much. Xeno tries to show her that he loves and will love her for who she is.

Stanley Snyder

❛❛ What did that jerk wanted from you, [Name]? ❞

❛❛ S-Stan?! I... He... I-I'm not really sure, he just asked to meet him after school... ❞

❛❛ Hmm. I'll go. ❞

❛❛ B-but Stan! If he doesn't want to do anything bad? ❞

❛❛ I'll. Go. ❞

• Stan met [Name] when he got into a fight with some particularly insolent jerks in the school hallways one day: they were quickly separated, but they managed to beat each other up so badly that they were sent to the nurse office. It wasn't the nurse on duty there then, but her assistant - a new student whom Stan barely remembered when he first saw her. She was very clumsy, but she treated his wounds surprisingly skillfully, and when she learned his name, she mentioned that she had heard it from Xeno - and it was at that moment that Stanley really took an interest in her.

• They did not officially meet until the next day: they were introduced to each other by Xeno, and they became something like friends through a friend. Over time, they get to know each other better and eventually become real friends.

• [Name]'s paranoid personality initially irritated Stanley a little, but then, when he realized how kind a person she really is, he noticeably softened towards her.

• Stanley quickly realizes his feelings and, after some thought, wants to immediately confess to [Name], which he basically does. He reacts very negatively to the girl's words about her uselessness and worthlessness, trying to convince her of the sincerity of his feelings and her own value. Eventually, [Name] gives them a chance: they start dating.

• Immediately after the relationship began, Stanley felt a strong need to protect [Name]. This need grew proportionally to the growth of his romantic feelings for her, and has not disappeared after many years.

• Anyone who even thinks something bad about [Name] will meet the invincible Stanley Snyder and his righteous anger - what to say about the fools who want to mock his girlfriend or pester her with various... unpleasant proposals? They leave no trace. Stan is merciless to anyone who shows disrespect to [Name].

• By the way, when Stan finds out what his girlfriend went through in the past, he is furious. There's nothing more to say - he's just furious, and it'll take him a long time to calm down and accept the fact that [Name] is no longer in danger and that all the bullying is in the past...

• [Name] is usually the one who heals all of Stan's wounds - after all, she is a nurse, albeit a student. He himself really likes it. Sometimes it seems that he fights with someone only so that [Name] can heal him later.

• Smoking is a terrible and dangerous habit - Stan is tired of hearing about it from his personal doctors, [Name] and Xeno, but he probably won't quit.

• One day, Stanley witnessed one of [Name's] "unfortunate falls". He is very worried about this trait of hers, and from now on he always tries to stay as close to her as possible so that if something happens, he can catch her before she falls. If it is impossible to prevent the falls, Stanley will block the spectacle unfolding on the floor from those around him with his body.

• It is even surprising how gentle and caring the threatening Stanley Snyder can be towards his timid and nervous girlfriend - everyone around him has always been confused by this, but they will never understand it.

• If Stanley has free time, he immediately rushes to the infirmary to spend at least a little time with [Name]. Usually, she does not have a large number of patients, so his presence does not bother anyone - on the contrary, while Stanley is with her, [Name] behaves more confidently.

[nefertitiacai]

Astro observations : "I GOT IT FROM MY DADDY" (AND MOMMY) edition

yk that one "DADDY" song by PSY sksksk

🪷 Venus in 4th house is an indicater of person being very beautiful and blessed with good looking genetics. They can also be conventionally attractive since 4th house also rules homeland, so they may be deemed as attractive where they live. A genetically blessed placement.

🪷 Jupiter in the 4th house is also an indicator for having a feature that may be "large" that runs through the family. Like being voluptuous or tall. Again a "genetically blessed" placement.

🪷 Sun/Jupiter in the 10th house individuals can learn a lot of stuff related to careers and build connections through their father.

🪷 Moon/Saturn in the second house may have some distinct facial features which resemble their parents. As both are considered planets that rule over parents and the second house rules over face.

🔴 (TW: Generational Trauma) ⏬

(also the observation and remedies which I've mentioned are purely based on generalization, if you may be dealing with it on a serious note then consulting a medical/health care professional is what is required💚)

🪷 Those who have Mars/Chiron/Saturn/Pluto in the 4th house/cancer/conj Moon may beat themselves up for a certain "flaw" which they consider themselves to have. This habit or problem may make them feel powerless. As if they are unable to change it. However, in actuality that "problem" didn't start with them but may be a generational thing/a characteristic which got inherited from a family member. [Our genetics play a major role in general with the way we are today (yes even personality-wise). But one can change it by will and if they indulge in self-improvement techniques like meditation, visualization, journaling with clear intentions, and other mindful activities]

📚 (PS. as a book enthusiast to others who are into reading self help books I'd recommend those who are dealing with such problems to read the book "It Didn't Start with You: How Inherited Family Trauma Shapes Who We Are and How to End the Cycle" by Mark Wolynn 😃)

(TW: mommy issues) moon conj Pluto placement and being notorious with mommy issues.

However, in my case, I have this placement and I don't feel it to be like that. My relationship with my mom is a very typical one. We have different views on certain stuff but we aren't toxic. Nonetheless, what I consider really to be toxic is my mom's side of the family and her childhood had also not been the best. So this placement actually may be something regarding the fact that your mum had to go through a lot and if you know that fact then it is easy to forgive her and give her a tight hug whenever you can.

This placement can also be an indicator of the child's mom going through a stressful phase during the time of the birth.

🟢 TW over, ok enough with sad stuff now 🤧

🪷 It is an observation but I've noticed Sagittarius, Pisces, Capricorn, Aquarius, and Leo placements folks may resemble their father's looks and personality-wise distinctively. Like there's that one feature that they may also be known for like, "you have a smile like your dad". It may be due to them being ruled by Jupiter, Saturn, and sun respectively, the celestial bodies which deal with "fatherly figures" in astrology.

🪷 Leo, Cancer, Aries, Gemini and Capricorn placements 🤝 acting all wholesome and cute when their mom is around.

🪷 If you and your sibling both have prominent mercury placements then you might hear someone saying this at some point "oh YoU BOth LoOk likE eACh otHer a Lot" and y'all will be like "b*tch no, from which angle, I am obviously more gorgeous 😤" 

🪷You know being a Sagittarius 🐎(also honorable mention Aquarius and Pisces) this proverb literally go with us for our parents 'You can lead a horse 🐎 to water but you can't make him drink '

📚[ PS.  if the horse is willing then only it'll drink, you can't drink water on its behalf. (That's the universal truth with life btw, you are responsible for your own tasks. Others can only guide you but in the end, it's you who will have to act, innit)]

Even though it is for our own "good" and "wellbeing" that our parents do and force these placements to be doing things in a certain way these placements will only "keep drink up to it" if it gives them a feeling of expansion and freedom. (That's why Sagittarius and Pisces placements are deemed to be "irresponsible" but that's not the case. And Aquarius placements have a reputation to be "rebellious" but that's unlikely. These placements most of the time may think ahead of their time and may have a bigger picture on things that's why they may consider certain tasks to be irrelevant (however it can also backfire and this certainly doesn't mean to be an excuse to run away))

🪷 Virgo and Libra placements tend to have good mannerisms which may be taught by their parents. They are big on punctuality. Also, they are well-behaved and sweet people. Often being talked about as "their parents raised them well". 

Virgo is associated with the 6th house which is also the house that rules over service so they tend to be helpful. Libra on the other hand is associated with the 7th house which is the house of partnerships, that's why they like to treat people with kindness and have a pleasing appeal. Like a comrade. (Although this also has a shadow aspect to it, this can make these placements to be perfectionists in unhealthy amounts and they may start to have people-pleasing tendencies. They may also grow pessimistic since many people may view their kindness to be their weakness, which is not true at all you guys, y'all are great and don't fall into what those low vibrational people have to say.)

It's 11:11 while I type this 💫 also, umaru chan is so adorable

[eatmeandbirthmeagain]

This request is kinda angsty, but I was wondering if you'd be willing to write something about Baldwin assisting his wife when she faints from heatstroke on a particularly hot day? She is prone to headaches as it is, and the heat does her no good. Basically something sweet about Baldwing reacting to his wife fainting and helping her recover, if it's not too much trouble... 👉🏻👈🏻

♧ I've Got You - King Baldwin x Reader ♧

♧ Angst ♧

A/N: Hello Anon, thank you for your request. I like this one a lot and enjoyed making it, I hope it's what you had in mind! As always, this is based on the film Kingdom Of Heaven, not the real historical figures. Enjoy!

TW: Fainting, Mentions of Dysautonomia, Leprosy

Summer in Jerusalem was always brutal.

Many were used to the heat, leaving them mostly unaffected. However for y/n, the heat was much more than she could take.

Unbeknownst to individuals of the time, with their lack of medical knowledge, the young queen suffered from dysautonomia, induced from trauma during her childhood.

This meant that severe heat caused her to experience extreme headaches, difficulty breathing, and on occasion, fainting. She was already prone to terrible headaches as it was, so the heat did nothing to help that either.

--------------

On a particularly hot day, Baldwin was scheduled to address his subjects and y/n was supposed to be joining him, as usal.

The king knew of his wife’s sensitivity to the heat and insisted that she remain inside the castle, but y/n promised that she would be perfectly fine and that as long as she stood in the shade, nothing would happen.

This did nothing to ease his nerves. But still he agreed, telling her that if she felt even the slightest bit ill that she was more than permitted to enter the castle to lay down.

------------ 

When the hour of the address came, the people gathered in the castle entrance yard to hear their king speak of updates regarding the safety of their land.

Baldwin stood on the royal balcony of the castle and y/n stood behind him, with the rest of the royal officials.

About five minutes had passed after he started speaking when the queen began to feel slightly ill. She thought nothing of it and concentrated on keeping herself standing. The heat worsened her small headache to a migraine, her vision was blurry, and she was having trouble breathing.

Still, she told herself that there was only a few minutes left and that she could wait it out.

It was Tiberias who noticed her sickly appearance first. He was stood with the rest of the royal officials and was also aware of the queen's medical condition.

It was for this reason that he had been keeping a close eye on y/n and was also the first to notice her legs give out from underneath her.

He rushed forward to catch her, just before she hit the ground.

Tibarias called for a guard to take her inside. Amongst the small commotion, Baldwin did not see what happened but was quick to turn when he heard a guard being called.

Seeing his wife unconscious in the arms of a guard sickened him to his core. He gestured for somebody to conclude the address as he followed inside, not caring what others in the crowd thought.

“What happened? Is she alright?” he asked Tibarias frantically, his heart rate quickening.

“She is alright my lord” Tibarias replied quickly, “it's the heat, she just blacked out as you were speaking. She will be just alright” his words only calmed Baldwin’s panic slightly.

He felt ill, the bandages covering his body suddenly feeling too tight. The mask restricted his breathing even more than it usually did.

The guard placed y/n on the couples shared bed in the royal chambers.

Baldwin ordered him to fetch the physicians quickly, moving to the queen's bedside to look at her properly.

She was very pale, but her eyes were shut peacefully. Her breathing was soft and inaudible, if it wasn't for the slight rise and fall of her chest, one would assume her dead from the sickly pale color of her skin.

Noticing the king's look of utter defeat, Tibarias offered a few words of comfort, but they did nothing to ease his worried heart. “It's my fault” Baldwin uttered softly, “I should have told her to stay inside. I knew that this would happen. Oh lord, why did I allow her to stay outside for so long in this awful heat”. He sighed, sitting down on the edge of the large bed and putting his head in his bandaged hands.

“It is not your fault my lord. You weren't to know that something like this would happen. She insisted she would be alright, she would not have assumed something like this to happen either” Tibarias replied, placing a hand on the king's shoulder just as the physicians entered the room. 

---------------

It was late at night by the time y/n’s eyes snapped open. With a gasp, she went to sit up, but a gentle hand pressed her back down. “Easy my lady, everything is alright” a voice soothed her.

As her vision cleared, she began to make out the form of Tibarias, standing beside her. He wiped her forehead with a cool, wet cloth gently.

“What- what happened?” the young queen asked, struggling to form words with her still dazed mind trying to regain consciousness. “You blacked out from the heat, but you're alright now”. As he said that, the memories began to flood her mind.

Her mind suddenly went to her husband, why wasn't he here? “Baldwin, where is he? Is he alright? I know how worried he gets” she began to panic again, a thousand scenarios flooding her mind about what could have happened while she was unconscious.

A small smile crossed the royal official's face as he gestured to her side with his eyes.

Turning her head slowly, y/n was suddenly aware of a gentle weight on her shoulder. Her mind was instantly put at ease when Baldwin's mess of blonde curls tucked under her chin came into view as well as his arm draped over her stomach. His mask was removed and placed on the side table closest to her. His warmth was pleasant, especially without the cold of the iron mask against her skin.

“He fell asleep at your bedside earlier this evening after remaining beside you all day,” Tibarias explained. “He was so worried about you. He felt awful for having you out there in the heat”.

Y/n smiled softly. She loved him so much and the fact that he was so worried about her and her health constantly, despite his disease, made her love him even more.

Gently, she lifted up her arm and placed it around her husband's back. “Thank you Tibarias. I can assure you that I am fine now. You are welcome to go get some rest” she offered through half lidded eyes and a weak smile.

“Thank you my lady, have a pleasant rest” 

“To you as well”.

Once Tibarias left the room, she turned her attention to Baldwin.

“I’m sorry for scaring you my love” she whispered to his sleeping form, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Thank you for taking care of me” she said before closing her eyes, finally allowing the pleasant breeze coming through the open balcony doors and her husband's soft breath against her chest to lull her into sleep.

[mossygirl333]

i’m here as soon as i heard your inbox is open 😭

it’s okay if you don’t wanna write it, and it’s stupid but at least hear me out pls!!!! 😭

what if ghost was in love with reader but was kinda sceptical of them, because they’re not british? i meaan due to his line of work he has to have some trust issues JUST BECAUSE OF THAT (not talking about his upbringing and whatever, thats another story….)

yk good ol' being sceptical of your partner and hurting them by that so we could enjoy fluff later 😭😭😭😭

An: This isn't stupid at all!! I think it could be really cute (i'm gonna make this a multi-part series and you cant stop me mwahahahaha) <3

Across The Hall - Pt. 1

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x college student!reader

Tw/Cw: Mentions of Johnny's death (bi!simon, Ghoap), mentions of canon typical violence, mentions of medication - therapy - depression, mentions of suicide, college!reader

Home. Home?

He didn't know what it was. He didn't have one, never did - something he realized a long time ago. Floating through places frequently.

His childhood house was never full of warmth or love. But what it was full of were budded out cigarettes and empty liquor bottles. Every time he drinks that brand he felt close to his father.

Simon rarely drinks now.

That was before. Before Johnny.

Johnny was his home if a home could be a person. With his wolfish grin and loud laugh. With a simple hug that man brought him down to earth. Settled his anxious rapid thoughts and PTSD riddled flashbacks.

He wished he could crawl into him, take a nap in his ribcage, right next to his lover's beating heart. But he settled for cuddling, it was the closest he could get.

That was where he was meant to be, all this time. Every bad memory led to him. It was worth it, because without everything he would've never met Soap. And Soap would've never met Ghost. And all that abuse and trauma was for something beautiful.

Simon was gonna propose. They would foster a baby girl. And they'd live happily ever after.

Everything was perfect.

Except life doesn't turn out like that. Life is just a constant stream of shitty situations with nice commercial breaks. And how much he loved that commercial made it all the harder to skip.

It took one bullet to turn his life upside down and inside out. So close they were to everything Simon ever dared to dream of. Lost to that X13 Auto bullet nestled into his brain, the same brain that held all those memories and beautiful creative thoughts.

Lost.

What his "home" was now, was a small standard apartment in Manchester. Minimalist, he didn't need a lot. He was gone for more than half the time.

Except now he was back. Discharged after almost killing a new recruit during a spar session. He argued for hours with Price, he couldn't leave the base. The same base where him and Johnny met. The same dorm room they shared a drunken kiss and a weak confession of sexuality. Where they cried and made love and laughed their asses off. Not the room where Johnny drew him while he slept.

He couldn't leave that.

Price said it was making it harder to move on. Maybe he was right, he was right, Simon just didn't want the ugly truth.

Price handed him a pass, set him on a plane, and sent him back to his apartment with mandatory therapy sessions every 3 days.

Just the thing he needed.

-

His heavy boots hit the floor, walking across the long hallway. His prescription came in, as much as he hated taking it. Stopping in front of the door, he turned the key and walked in. Pulled down his black mask and threw his hood back, scarred skin now warmed by the sun coming through his windows.

He set down his small brown paper bag, settling down onto his bed. Staring at the Tv. He fell into a shitty rhythm a few days back, but if he told the therapist he was bound to be sent to a mental hospital.

Putting a X13 Auto gun in his mouth. Louded. Safety off. Him and Johnny could die the same way, different times. Meet each other again in the afterlife.

But he couldn't. He was a coward. A pussy. Dumb and weak and small.

His breathing shook and he's snapped out by a gentle knock on the door.

He stares at it, trying to make the walls not seem so closed in. Swallowing thickly he stood up, walking quietly towards it. Hand settled on his gun, hidden away in the holster.

He swings the door open and looks down. A woman..? A woman. Ah. His hand leaves the gun, letting the fabric of his hoodie hide it again. "Is there somethin' wrong lady?" He asked, deep and British.

"Hi sorry, I just wanted to tell you that I'm your new neighbor. Right across the hall!" You sound awfully chipper, pointing at your door across from his.

"Ah. I see." His eyes darken. That accent...

He practically flashbacks to Graves and that cocky smile. Shepard and those cold evil eyes.

"Yer American?" He suddenly asks before you could go.

"Oh yeah!" You smile. "Land of the free ya know!" You giggle and wave goodbye. Leaving him to his own devices.

You seem docile enough. Weak. He could kill you in a real fight. But that stupid fucking accent wormed its way into his head. it's stupid how such little things could trigger his PTSD.

Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. And Americans took all of that away from him.

At that moment he decided he hated you.

[allisluv]

---- drabble / oneshot wip list

please let me know in the comments or in my inbox which ones you would like me to prioritise <3

faq's.

main masterlist.

readersona masterlist.

guidelines.

carrd.

requests: open

* indicates smut

updated: march 2025

wip list:

FINNICK O'DAIR WIPS:

finnick x reader x reader's district partner (angst)

finnick x reader in an everlark situation but with a tragic ending (angst)

finnick x reader in an admiring from afar situation (possible series)

reader rejects finnick's proposal (angst, based on champagne problems by taylor swift)

*finnick helps reader explore his body before taking her virginity (smut)

popular guy!finnick x bad!girl reader (fluff)

*reader gives finnick a lap dance (smut)

finnick and reader have an intimate moment together that is cut short due to his trauma (hurt/comfort)

finnick meets reader at the gym (fluff)

finnick x fem!abernathy reader (fluff, possible series)

*friends to lovers (smut)

*finnick and reader are finally comfortable enough to have sex for the first time (fluffy smut)

finnick and reader make their favourite meal together (fluff)

TW: finnick helps his best friend realise that what her father did to her was not okay (hurt/comfort, will deal with super heavy topics in what i hope is a respectful and dignified way).

*reader asks finnick to be rougher with her (smut)

finnick comforts reader who's upset about a bloated belly (hurt/comfort)

finnick and reader have an argument (angst with a happy ending)

reader comforts finnick after he exposes snow's crimes (hurt/comfort)

finnick x hijacked!reader (part two of god, possible series)

pre!rebellion finnick x district!six reader (fluff)

finnick x H20!mermaid!reader (headcanons)

*dry humping with finnick (smut)

*annie x finnick x reader (smut)

finnick spoils reader on their birthday (fluff)

finnick and reader are parental over their young tributes (fluff)

reader does finnick's make up (fluff)

finnick x oblivious reader who's a district!13 medic (fluff)

finnick comforts reader when she comes out as bisexual (fluff, hurt/comfort)

TW: reader relapses in her eating disorder recovery (hurt/comfort)

TW: finnick x reader who uses sex as self-harm (hurt/comfort)

finnick x reader who looks after a cat (fluff)

part two of bluffs (check finnick masterlist for part one)

oneshot based off the song "evermore" from beauty and the beast (angst with a happy ending)

finnick and reader exchange letters (series, arranged marriage au)

finnick x babysitter!reader (fluff)

part two of disconnected (check finnick masterlist for part one)

mentor!finnick x tribute!reader (possible series)

SHY!WIFEY X FINNICK (SERIES) WIPS:

shy!wifey and finnick during training for the quarter quell (fluff)

*finnick fingering shy!wifey in public (smut)

*finnick exploring shy!wifey's body (smut)

KATNISS EVERDEEN WIPS:

*katniss teachers reader how to hunt in the meadow (smut)

*katniss and reader set during the middle of the rebellion (smut)

*post rebellion, dom!katniss and sub!reader (smut)

katniss x grieving!reader (hurt/comfort)

JOHANNA MASON WIPS:

*johanna gets turned on by reader's hands (smut)

reader helps johanna with her anger management in the capitol (?)

johanna with a reader who has anorexia (angst, hurt/comfort)

*johanna has a hair pulling kink (smut)

making out with johanna while your parents are downstairs (fluff, suggestive)

reader is from four and denies having a crush on her fellow mentor, johanna (fluff)

johanna flirts with reader (suggestive fluff)

johanna doesn't want reader to volunteer for the quarter quell, and gives her the cold shoulder when she does (hurt/comfort)

*johanna being impressed when reader takes control (smut)

johanna x teacher!reader (fluff, possible series)

reader has frequent panic attacks (hurt/comfort)

*dom!reader and sub!johanna reunite at a capitol gala (smut)

LUCY GRAY BAIRD WIPS:

lucy gray with a reader who's afraid of thunder (hurt/comfort)

lucy gray when no one wants to hang out with you in school (fluff)

lucy gray and reader as best friends headcanons (fluff)

lucy gray yapping (n/a)

*scissoring with dom!lucy gray (smut)

lucy gray comforts you after parents evening (fluff)

sharing a dressing room with lucy gray (fluff, suggestive)

reader meeting the covey (fluff)

PEETA MELLARK WIPS:

peeta with a reader whos ashamed of a surgery scar (fluff)

best!friend peets confesses his feelings to you (fluff)

post hijack!peeta x reader based on the alchemy (angst)

peeta finds out reader is being sold by snow (angst, hurt/comfort)

peeta x reader, miscommunication trope based on hozier's cover of do i wanna know (angst)

reader starts to work in the mellark family bakery (fluff)

ANNIE CRESTA WIPS:

alt!universe where the games don't end and annie and reader's kid wants to volunteer (angst)

*scissoring annie when she's on her period (smut)

annie confronts guys who grope you at a concert (?)

TW: annie finds reader's old self-harm scars (hurt/comfort)

*annie x finnick x reader (smut)

annie does stick and poke on reader (fluff)

annie takes her son to the aquarium (fluff)

MISC THGS WIPS:

madge and reader get married (fluff)

haymitch and effie come to reader's graduation (found family fluff)

katniss explains her asexuality to peeta (fluff)

gale being confused because finnick and peeta are constantly pulling girls (modern!au, ?)

gloss with a reader who has painful period cramps (fluff)

tigris helps you through a panic attack (hurt/comfort)

platonic johanna and finnick headcanons

haymitch x gn!reader (hurt/comfort, found family)

annie is hijacked -- finnicks pov (angst)

finnick is hijacked -- annie's pov (angst)

reader helps tigris and her family during poverty (fluff, angst)

sejanus x reader from two in the academy (fluff)

reader starts poisoning her capitol clients (?)

EMILY PRENTISS WIPS:

emily, reader, jj and penelope have a girls night when a secret is let out (fluff)

emily is nervous to admit how she feels about you (angsty fluff)

*rough sex and loving aftercare (smut)

emily has a soft spot for reader (fluff)

*emily takes care of her pregnant wife (fluff, smut)

emily x fem!reader (angst)

*game night turns into strip poker (smut)

reader and emily have a meet cute (fluff, potential series)

jj and tara play matchmaker between you and emily (fluff)

*emily has a dream about reader (smut)

DEREK MORGAN WIPS:

derek and fem!con reader get in a car chase (fluff)

an unsub threatens derek's wife and unborn child (angst followed by fluff)

badass bau!reader x derek headcanons

MISC CM WIPS (EVERY OTHER CHARACTER):

derek's long lost daughter shows up in the bull pen (angst)

jj finds out her daughter vapes (?)

the bau girls go shopping (fluff)

*aaron hotchner nsfw alphabet (smut)

spencer reid helps you after you get hurt during a case (hurt/comfort)

elle x forensic scientist!reader (fluff)

spencer helps reader study for midterms (fluff)

penelope helps reader sleep (fluff)

DAISY JONES WIPS:

daisy x fem!dunne!reader (fluff)

"what if someone sees" with daisy (fluff)

daisy takes her daughter to the circus (fluff)

BILLY DUNNE WIPS:

sneaking off during an award show with billy (fluff)

billy x pop star!reader (fluff)

reader helps billy through a bad trip (hurt/comfort)

reader tells the band that she's pregnant (fluff)

billy, reader and their daughter spend father's day together (fluff)

GRAHAM DUNNE WIPS:

reader shows graham her songs (fluff)

reader and graham talk about having kids (fluff)

graham x drummer!reader who's slightly traumatized (fluff)

EDDIE ROUNDTREE WIPS:

fake dating trope (fluff)

eddie x fem!groupie reader. inspiration is clara bow by taylor swift and penny lane (fluff)

billy and graham find out you and eddie have been dating

CAMILA DUNNE WIPS:

*camila divorces billy and develops feelings for her best friend (fluff, smut)

WARREN ROJAS WIPS:

warren takes an interest in daisy's friend when she comes to listen to them play (fluff)

warren x rockstar!reader headcanons

warren helps moviestar!reader prepare for her role as a love interest before he gets jealous and spills his feelings for her (fluff)

MISC DJATS WIPS:

billy is worried about daisy (angst)

karen x daisy -- set post band break up, karen's pov (angst with a happy ending)

*billy x camila (smut)

[truths33k3r4]

~Indie TMNT Comic Dubs~

( All dubs were recorded and edited by Create2Glorify! )

( All credit for the art and comic goes to @indieyuugure! )

Ninjas in New York Part 1

Ninjas in New York Part 2

Ninjas in New York Part 3

Ninjas in New York Part 4

Ninjas in New York Part 5

Ninjas in New York Part 6

Ninjas in New York Part 7

The News Lady Part 1

The News Lady Part 2

The News Lady Part 3

The News Lady Part 4

The News Lady Part 5

The News Lady Part 6

The News Lady Part 7

Aliens and Mysteries Part 1

Aliens and Mysteries Part 2

Aliens and Mysteries Part 3

Aliens and Mysteries Part 4

Aliens and Mysteries Part 5

Aliens and Mysteries Part 6

Aliens and Mysteries Part 7

Aliens and Mysteries Part 8

Aliens and Mysteries Part 9

Casey Jones Wuz Here Part 1

Casey Jones Wuz Here Part 2

Casey Jones Wuz Here Part 3

Casey Jones Wuz Here Part 4

Casey Jones Wuz Here Part 5

Casey Jones Wuz Here Part 6

Pomerantula Poison Part 1

Pomerantula Poison Part 2

THE RED LINKS ARE A WARNING FOR BLOODY/GORE/SCARY CONTENT. YOU'VE BEEN WARNED.

[sluggybunny]

Some oc lore that had me like twice now delirious posting about how much I love them

Ft Limewire and Noise :D idr if I posted about their respective backstories yet but whatever READ ON

Tw for background Abusive Relationships. Maybe age gap? Nothing happens but Limewire is 15 at this point in time but there is alluded to sexual abuse happening by someone else

So like Limewire is getting abused (By Museum, her team leader) and she sometimes tries to find a place o hide out esp Museum is very mad. It ends up being Noise’s place (extremely run down base level studio apartment where the floor is concrete) and he doesn’t care enough to chase her out when she sneaks in. She starts bringing him snacks as payment and because she notices he never has anything and now it’s like hes got a stray cat hanging around

They very slowly bond. Noise doesn’t feel much anymore so he’s extremely apathetic to Limewire’s situation (even makes cruel jokes at her expense but she doesn’t react or care like she’s totally hears worse from Museum) but she feels the most safe with him because he does not feel, does not care, and thus does not hurt her unless she’s in the way. And he, over time, starts to kind of care for her in a way he doesn’t understand but doesn’t hate too much. She only shows up in the evening and leaves before the morning and while it’s not every single night, Noise starts finding himself wanting her around and anticipating seeing her. He feels some sort of irritation when she’s not around and doesn’t hang around his apartment if she’s gone because suddenly it feels bad being alone in there. Noise doesn’t know what to do when he feels again, he can’t quite piece it together. It’s just mild irritation.

But she shows up and eventually they start chatting (really it’s mostly limewire talking a mile an hour) Sometimes Limewire offers to dye Noise’s hair and that’s how he ends up with that firetruck red. Limewire brings him funny snacks that Noise can actually taste (his senses have been dulled) and when Limewire mentions not being able to afford her medication, Noise robs pharmacies to get them for her (He claims it’s so she’ll shut up already)

They are both from the Barrens and have experienced such Horrible lives. Limewire is still in hell even. Noise doesn’t want to bond, he doesn’t want to feel things, but it happens anyway. They have a nice late night convos about trauma and when Noise starts getting irritated by feeling, Limewire holds out her stuffed animal and says “you can hug him if you need ☺️” and the absurdity of this like almost 7 foot cyborg guy hugging a plushie takes him out of his spiral.

Limewire asks to use his shower because “it’s not fun when I do it back home, Museum also wants to” so Noise lets her. Now she gets to smell like his ugly masc products but it makes him oddly pleased. She starts incorporating his style into hers and she gives him stickers for his cyberware, small decorations for his apartment

They become such an odd pair. Vaguely romantic. Limewire feels safe around Noise because his lack of drive to do anything to hear. He IS violent and if she got in the way, he’d kill her. But he doesn’t and it’s better than going home to Museum who will hurt her just for fun. Limewire gets a little crush on Noise. Daydreams about holding his hand. Dreams of being with someone who doesn’t hurt her like that anymore….

Anyway it doesn’t happen because Limewire suddenly wakes him up one night and says goodbye. She gives him her stuffed animal and gives him a cute kiss goodbye. And noise, for the first time in years, feels something and he’s demanding she don’t leave, she can’t leave, please don’t leave. He realizes like, he was feeling something again and that she was very literally sunshine in his very dull world and now its going away and he can’t take it, like he wishes he didn’t know what it was like just to miss it.

But she leaves 😌 she has to go wherever her team goes! Museum says so. And Museum says she’s too dumb to be by herself. She’s stuck in that cycle of always going back to the abuser because she doesn’t know she can have anything different. She doesn’t know Noise would let her stay with him forever and ever.

His morality pet is gone. Noise misses her so much and he cares for the plushie with borderline obsession. This is what really makes him shut down, like it’s his event horizon that makes him decide it’s not worth it to feel anymore. Not if she’s not there anymore

Limewire… well Limewire’s story gets worse from there, really. That’s a different post.

If u read that say hi ily I’m shy but I’m really trying + drugs make me bolder

[theresstillgrowinghere]

I don’t often find I have much to say during chronic illness awareness months anymore. I’m tired. My words feel tired. I don’t feel like I have anything new to add. Sometimes I worry though that that in part comes from my having been in various digital chronic illness spaces for almost a decade. Of course it feels tired to me. There are things that rattle around my brain that feel so obvious and commonplace (and that have been said much more eloquently by others before me) but may still be worth expressing, just judging by the ways people in my life haven’t been able to understand

So for gastroparesis awareness month this year, there are a few things I want to note from my experiences (tw for food/eating, weight without numbers, medical trauma)

1) My relationship with food is so scarred and multifaceted. It is messy and thorny, conflicting and complicated

(I am scared of food. I miss food. I hate food. I want to eat so badly. I never want to think about eating again. Tell me in detail about how it tasted. I love food. Please don’t ask me to join you for a meal. I don’t want to miss the communal aspects of eating. I feel so disconnected and other and separate just because I don’t eat. Sometimes I do try to eat and it makes me sick. Don’t comment on it, please; it’s not helpful to scold or encourage - I feel shame either way)

2) There is no cure. There is only management. I think people understand this in theory more than actuality, because when I say this I mean please, please stop expecting any management option to be The Thing. Please don’t expect something to offer substantial improvement, even if it is a life-saving dramatic change. As I have tried to explain to people in my life, those types of interventions are often complicated and risky and, in our broken healthcare system, very difficult to access until the situation truly is dire and life-threatening. Which can mean that the body takes significant damage before getting there. Sometimes by the time you access the intervention, that damage is irreversible and the goal is just to stop further decline. It’s not making me better; it’s keeping me from getting worse. For some reason that’s difficult for people to understand

(But sometimes people do find what for them is The Thing or are The Things, and that’s an important piece of the whole picture. The problem is the persistence of unrealistic expectations among people around us)

3) My relationship with healthcare is vital but fraught and heavy. I rely on it tremendously just to stay alive. It is also my only in-person access to the world and to people, which is a weird kind of mindfuck. But I am also deeply afraid of it after so many years of trauma. I am terrified of hospitals and medical professionals. I’m sorry for the way that fear makes me irrational, makes me assume, makes me protect myself. I know so many medical professionals are so caring and kind, but it is very, very hard to go into a medical setting trusting that that will be the case

4) There are some things I wish truly were obvious. Like don’t comment on someone’s weight, ever. Don’t say you wish you could “have a little of that” to change your appearance. Don’t try to convince me to “just try to eat a little.” Trust that I know my body best. Don’t offer me unsolicited advice or recommendations. Don’t say “when you get to be my age…” because I will point out that, based on the amount of damage to my body already, it is very possible I will never reach your age. But more to the point, I am not too young to be this sick. It happens

Anyway, these are my 3am-notes-app, camped-out-on-the-bathroom-floor thoughts. It is also important to note that they exist in the context of my gastroparesis being born of and coexisting with my other chronic illnesses, and they all become so deeply entangled

Wishing everyone well. Hoping your August is kind and gentle

To everyone with gastroparesis (and other digestive disorders, really), I’m sorry your tummy hurts, and no, you actually don’t need to be very brave about it. As I heard someone say recently in a different context but definitely applies here as well, “We weren’t born to be fighters. I don’t want to be brave. I want to be okay.” I just want all of us to be okay

[hollowmem]

The hands that cradled you, were covered in blood

F!Reader x John Price

TW: topic of children abuse, medical trauma, dissociation, gaslighting.

Day 16: “The hands that cradled my face and tilted it upwards to kiss my forehead are soaked in  unfathomable quantities of blood. But they cradled me, yes?” Price learns user’s past and tries to get them to see how bad it was

The kettle clicked off with a soft pop, and she poured the water over the tea bags with practiced ease. Two mugs. His and hers. She always remembered how he liked it — no sugar, just a touch of milk.

“Okay,” she said over her shoulder, “hear me out. What if I did something small on base?”

Price looked up from the sofa, brow raised. “Small, yeah?”

“Something easy like working with paper or helping with inventory. I’m not trying to enlist.” She smiled at him, passing him his mug. “I just… I want to be around. Be useful. You’re always gone or busy, and I think I’d like to help. Even just a little.”

He studied her for a long moment, eyes searching. “Are you sure about that?”

“Positive. You think I can’t handle it?”

A smile tugged at his mouth. “I think you could run the whole bloody place, sweetheart. Alright. I’ll put in a request. Just need to run you through clearance.”

“Sounds fancy.”

“Mostly boring paperwork. A quick look through background and medical.” He sipped his tea, casual. “You’ll be fine.”

Later that day when he was back from work.

He kissed her temple and said “hi, love” in that warm, low voice. But it was detached. Like he was trying not to break something fragile.

She found him in the kitchen, staring down into a mug he hadn’t touched. The tea had gone cold. His hands were clenched so tight the knuckles had gone white.

“John?” she said softly.

Nothing.

“Did I… do something?”

That got his attention. His head snapped up, eyes wide with something close to grief. “God, no.”

He reached for her — then stopped himself.

“Come sit,” he said, voice raw.

She obeyed. Slowly. Tension sat between them like a loaded weapon.

“I looked over your clearance forms,” he said. “Your records.”

She nodded, trying not to fidget. “Okay.”

“From when you were a kid.” He looked at her for a long moment. “Do you know how many times you were hospitalized before age twelve?”

She looked down. “No.”

“Thirty six”

Her breath caught. “That can’t be right.”

“It is.”

“I was clumsy,” she said quickly. “Always running around. I— I got into things, at least what my dad told me.”

“Dislocated shoulder. Shattered radius. Hairline skull fracture. Broken ribs. They don’t call that clumsy.”

She was shaking her head before he finished. “My dad—he always took care of me. He was a good father.”

“No, he wasn’t.”

“Yes, he—”

“He hurt you.”

She flinched. Like the word struck her across the face.

“I don’t remember that,” she whispered.

“You blocked it out.” He leaned forward, voice tight. “Because that’s what children do when the person who’s supposed to protect them is the one doing the damage.”

Tears sprang to her eyes, but she didn’t blink. “No. No, you’re wrong. He loved me.”

Price’s voice broke open, ragged. “Then why did he keep hurting you?” She flinched.

“If he loved you—why did he put you in a hospital bed more times than you can remember?” “Because he did love me!!” she snapped. “He was always sorry! He cried when I was in pain. He sang to me. He—he said I was his whole world!”

Price stared at her, something aching and helpless sitting in his chest.

“He said you were his world,” he said slowly. “But he treated you like something he could destroy and put back together whenever he wanted.”

That landed. Not as a blow — but like the air changed around her.

She blinked. Once. Twice. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out.

“I’ve seen monsters like that,” he said. “Men who hurt and cry after like that erases it. It doesn’t. It never does.”

“I don’t remember the pain,” she said. “I remember him holding me like I mattered. I remember feeling safe afterward.”

Price was quiet for a moment. Then he set his mug down. Not towering over her. Not meeting her with anger or pity. Just steady, even, there.

“Of course you remember the good,” he said softly. “It’s the only way it made sense. You needed it to mean something. Otherwise it was just cruelty. And children can’t live with cruelty. Not from someone who’s supposed to love them.”

She didn’t speak. Her eyes were wide, glassy. Unblinking.

“So your mind kept the parts that looked like love. The songs. The soft hands. The way he made you feel safe after he hurt you. Because if he was sorry, if he kissed your forehead and stayed by your bed… then it wasn’t abuse for your mind. It was just….”

Tears slid down her cheeks, but she didn’t seem to notice them.

“That wasn’t love,” Price said, voice raw. “That was control. That was fear dressed up in kindness. And you didn’t know the difference, because he made sure you never learned it.”

She flinched. A soft, full-body twitch like something in her just snapped loose.

“I thought he loved me,” she said again, but quieter. As if repeating it would make it true.

“I know,” Price said. “And I wish to God he had. But he didn’t. He only taught you how to stay.”

He reached for her, slow and careful.

“And I’m here now. To show you that love is not raising hand on you. It doesn’t leave bruises. And it sure as hell doesn’t make you bleed just to apologize after.”

She leaned into him. And he caught her. Of course he did.

[us3rnam3-r3dact3d]

the world (it burns through me)

Chapter 14: Lovely

Ao3 | 2.9k Words | Lovely's POV

Lovely chaperones a field trip. Caelum runs out of line. Sam is tense. Vincent is attention starved. Asher entertains 30-something kids. Freelancer is trying not to indulge. Caelum has an imaginary friend.

TW: Seperation anxiety, mentions of over-medication, child with trauma, discussion of fire safety procedures.

In your three years of teaching kindergarten, you’d never had a single field trip run completely smoothly from start to finish. It was a hazard of wrangling thirty-odd kids with one other adult in a new environment that you could only prepare them so much for. They were often fun, often educational, but always chaotic.

You were very grateful that Vincent had volunteered his firehouse as your class’s location for your fire safety field trip. He couldn’t necessarily help you with the kids, but just having him close by was a comfort. You knew that, come whatever chaos or tears you encountered, you could meet Vincent’s eye and know he had witnessed it all too. 

Firehouse trips were always a good time, but they were high energy and the kids certainly showed it. You were certain that you’d have a bus full of snoring kids on the way back to school in a few hours. As you gave your final directions, kids bounced up from their seats and met you, in a shoving and pushing line, at the front of the bus. You took a deep breath. 

You loved your kids. That was what you kept repeating to yourself over and over again as you raised your voice over squeals and blurted out questions to give them directions as the bus came to a halt outside of the 10-19. You had a pretty peaceful classroom. You’d made sure of it after your particularly tortuous first year. You had heard that being a first year teacher was chaotic, but you never would have guessed just how much stress it would cause. The first thing you did your second year was drill those kindergarteners like they were in the Navy. Classroom management was still a work in progress for you, but your kids knew how to walk in a line, how to work quietly at their tables, how to ask for pencils and turn in their work all on their own. 

Well, most of them did. 

Caelum was a special case. You loved that kid, but he had had a tumultuous year with you last year. He struggled with impulse control, with sitting still, with following base directions without multiple reminders. He was a problem child, and when there was a ruckus in your classroom, it was almost always related to Caelum. 

But he was smart. He was smart and his grown ups  were doing everything they could for him. Caelum came into your classroom in January of last year and was clearly on much too high a dose of whatever ADHD medication his previous doctor had prescribed him. It made your stomach turn to think about his blank stare, his mumbled, confused sentences, the exhaustion that spread across his little features after recess. You would take this, this boisterous, loud, opinionated kid over the zombie you first met any day. 

Even when he bolted out of your perfectly formed line the second he saw the ambulance, his little legs carrying him faster than you could ever hope to. You tossed a look over your shoulder to the other teacher accompanying your class on the trip before chasing after him. 

They just couldn’t make shoes comfortable enough for a kindergarten teacher. You had very nice sneakers thanks to Vincent’s Daddy’s money (although he hated when you called it that), but when you took off after a sprinting child, you still felt pain spring up your calves and into your hips. All of the crouching and standing and walking and running after runaway children did your joints in. You were young, but you certainly didn’t feel it. 

It wasn’t you in the end that caught Caelum. He ran straight up to the two paramedics that were gathered at the back doors of the large ambulance. You’d been inside of an ambulance before, and even still it surprised you how big they seemed on the outside. On the inside, it was almost oppressively small, the metal walls and machines and paramedics pressing in on all sides.

Caelum bounded up to the paramedics before throwing himself around one of their legs, squealing out; “Buddy!” 

When they turned, face slackened with shock, you recognized them. One of Caelum’s grown ups. They had accompanied Gavin and Caelum to open house this year and to one of the two parent-teacher conferences your school had hosted so far this year. You recalled, from casual conversation, that they were a medical student. You had no idea that they were a paramedic as well, and on Vincent’s crew no less. 

You spotted Sam as he balked, reaching as though to extract the bouncing kid from around his paramedic, but they laughed and scooped him up, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. 

“Caelum,” they chided, smile clear on their features, “you told me you wouldn’t run around on your own this time.” You remembered the last field trip you’d supervised with Caelum, to the Natural History Museum. It had taken two hours to find him, wandering alone in the paleolithic exhibit. The only time you’d ever managed to get him to sit still in class was when you were talking about dinosaurs. You were terrified that his grown ups would be upset with you, but when you’d called Gavin that afternoon, he had profusely apologized. It turned out that Caelum was pretty used to being independent, and he struggled when he wasn’t allowed to move as a free agent. Walking in line had been a multi-year battle that you were still losing. 

“Hey,” Sam gave you a weary smile, bent to press a kiss to your cheek like he always did when greeting you. “Didn’t realize you taught my Probie’s kid.” You patted his shoulder, noted the tension that had eeked into his muscles. You’d have to mention it to Vincent. Maybe he could convince Sam to go to that massage place he dragged you to every month or so. 

“Neither did I!” You smiled amicably as they set Caelum back down and turned him towards you. 

“You’ve gotta stay with your class, okay Buddy?” They ruffled his blonde curls as he craned his neck to look up at them. “Your poor teacher is running around after you when you should be learning about firefighters.” 

“It’s alright,” you smiled gently, offering your hand to Caelum, which he took. He looked up at his Buddy, eyes wide, “it’s really no trouble. We have fun, don’t we Caelum?” 

“Yeah,” he mumbled, looking back over his shoulder to his Buddy, “don’t leave, okay?” He called. Their face slackened, eyes slipping to Sam before falling back to Caelum. 

“Yeah,” they said, “okay, Buddy. Go, you’ll miss your fieldtrip!” 

Caelum toddled along with you, glancing over his shoulder nervously every few paces as if to make sure his Buddy hadn’t suddenly evaporated while he had turned away. 

Abandonment issues. It was a terribly common ailment for kids who had spent any time in foster care. You’d only had one other student who had spent time in the system, and she had been shuffled back into it and away from your school a month into her stay with her foster parents. You’d seen the look on his bus driver’s face when Caelum got on in the afternoon, twisted into indifference when she met every other child with a wide smile. He probably gave her lots of trouble when separating from his grown ups. 

He was fine by the time you led him back to the group who were gathered, sitting criss-cross-apple-sauce on the floor around a tall, lanky firefighter. He was in the middle of explaining all of the parts of the firetruck when his eyes met yours and you recognized him from the handful of barbecues and parties you’d managed to drag yourself to. Asher waved softly as he continued his explanation. 

It was a glorious display, so much so that it entertained even you. Asher somehow made the idea of Stop, Drop and Roll a fun game, made calling 911 in case of an emergency a secret mission, made evacuating a burning building a fun romp down the stairs. 

When he got to that part, Analisa, the only student you’d ever had who used a wheelchair, had raised her hand, her face pinched in concern. 

“I can’t walk down the stairs.” She said. Asher knelt in front of her, his face never falling from its cheery smile. 

“Well, remember how I just told everybody you shouldn’t use the elevator in a fire?” She nodded. “You get to break that rule.” He gave her a conspiratory grin. “Make sure Mom or Dad is with you, and make sure they check to see that the elevator is safe first, then ride it on down!” 

“What if it’s not safe?” She pressed, anxiety raising her shoulders to press to her ears. Asher caught her eye again, still calm and steady. 

“Then you go to the stairs with everybody else.” He said. “Remember how we talked about calling 911? Once you’re in the stairwell, you call them and tell them right where you are. Then, when I or the other firefighters get there, we’ll come straight to you!” 

“That could take forever!” She squealed, fidgeting with her skirt. 

“Nope!” Asher laughed. “Actually, most fire trucks get to fires in five minutes. That’s no time at all.” 

“And they’ll come get me? They won’t forget about me?” 

“Of course not.” Asher smiled. “It’s our job! We always take care of people before we take care of houses.”

Asher took the kids on a tour of the firehouse, down to the fancy kitchen where snacks had been set out for them. The kids calmored into seats at the large table as you helped pass them out. Chatter and laughs filled the large space. You leaned against the far wall, apple juice box in one hand, and observed as the kids talked and ate. 

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this?” Vincent’s smooth, sultry voice caught you off guard. You turned, pulling your attention away from the kids for just long enough to confirm that it was him there before turning your attention back to the kids. 

“Same thing as you, gorgeous,” You stopped to put on your teacher voice, “Jamie, do not pull Harley’s hair. Apologize. Thank you.” You turned back to Vincent. “Working.” 

“Hard, I can see.” He smiled as he leaned against the wall next to you, a respectful distance. “Any trouble?” 

“One run away kid.” You said. “Hey, you never told me you worked with one of my kid’s grown ups.” He knew what you meant by that term. Vincent was very familiar with your insistence on never calling a kid’s guardian their ‘parent,’ or worse, ‘Mom and dad.’ You didn’t want to risk even one of your kids feeling excluded for a moment in your classroom. He blinked at you for a second before realization spread across his face. 

“I never put that together.” He said. “I even- you’re gonna think this is funny, I even mentioned to them that you work with kids his age.” 

“My little airhead.” You smiled. “Hey, is Sam okay? He looks stressed.” You shot a sharp look to one of your troublemakers until he got the point and stopped trying to crawl onto the table. 

“I… don’t know.” He sighed. “After New Years, he’s been a little… lighter? I guess?” 

“Yeah, a make out sesh with a certified hottie would do that.” You laughed. Asher had started gathering the kid’s abandoned paper plates and juice boxes as they finished. 

“Okay little dudes,” Asher raised his voice, effortlessly overtaking the kid’s noise. “Let’s go sit in the firetruck!” 

The kids cheered and followed after him as he led the way. You took up the rear of the group, trailing behind them as Vincent’s arms fell to his sides and twitched. You knew that he was itching to wrap his arm around your waist, to slide his hand into yours, to pull you into his chest as you walked. You both knew that it was appropriate in front of your kids, so he contained himself. Just barely, if his sideways glances were any indication. You’d have to give him plenty of your undivided attention when you both got home.

After getting to honk the fire truck horn and trying on parts of the firefighter’s heavy gear, you watched as exhaustion crept over the kid’s features. It had been a long day, and Asher’s endless energy had bled them dry. Having missed naptime, you were sure to have a near silent ride back to school. Thank God. 

Caelum’s Buddy met you at the bus doors, hands in the pockets of their uniform pants. Caelum bolted out of line again, ran straight into their arms as they swung him up and pressed a kiss to his cheek before setting him back on the ground. The rest of the kids filed onto the bus as they talked quietly. You watched as Caelum’s little face grew red, his brow pinching, and listened as his voice grew whiney and high. Uh oh. Tantrum incoming. 

“I’ve still gotta work, Buddy,” they said softly, smoothing their hand over his curls, “and Gav will be waiting at school to pick you up.” 

“But-” Caelum sniffled, the sound of tears tearing through his voice, “but-but… I don’t- can I stay with you?” 

“No, Buddy.” They shook their head gently. “You’ve gotta go back to school. But Gav will pick you up and I’m sure he’ll take you for ice cream if you ask real sweet.” 

Caelum began to cry, but not the loud, screeching cries of a little kid tantrum. His tears were quiet, sniffling, contained in his little chest as though he was afraid to make a single noise. You watched as their face crumbled, as they leaned down to wipe his cheeks and pulled him close to their chest. 

“Listen to me, Buddy,” they said softly, “you’re gonna get on the bus and wave at me through the window. Gav’s gonna pick you up at school and you’re gonna have so much fun with him this afternoon. I get done with work at six, that’s only four hours away! I’ll be home right after. And we can see if Damien and Huxley and Lasko will come over for movies!” 

Caelum looked up at them, tears dotting his long lashes, before he nodded once and started to march up the stairs of the bus. He stopped stiffly at the top before running back down, wrapping his arms tight around their legs, and then climbing back up and plopping into a seat at the front of the bus. 

“That was pretty good.” You nodded. You watched as they tried to sneakily wipe their eyes, but caught sight of the wetness on their fingers. 

“His therapist is trying to get us to stop indulging him.” They smiled, eyes weary. “We used to- the second he started crying, just give him what he wanted. But he has to go to school. He has to get on buses. He has to be able to walk away from us eventually.” 

“It’s super common.” You said, looking up at the bus window as Caelum stared out at the two of you. “Separation anxiety. For the record, you guys are doing great. And he’s a great kid.” 

“He’s the best.” They nodded. 

You loaded back on the bus. You did a headcount. All present and accounted for, you made your way to the seat next to Caelum. He waved to his Buddy as the bus pulled away and settled back down on to the bench seat. 

“Did you have fun today, Caelum?” You asked softly. You already heard snores from behind you, and the soft chatter that had filled the bus as you boarded was dying out by the minute. Caelum sighed heavily as he looked up at you, as though he was contemplating something very serious. 

“Yeah.” He said eventually. “I liked when we pretended we were on fire.” 

That made you laugh. 

“Well, good. I’m sure the firefighters are glad you could come and visit.”

“My friend knows a firefighter.” Caelum announced. 

“Yeah, your Buddy works with them.” You nodded. 

“No,” Caelum shook his head, his face overtaken with the severity of a kid correcting an adult in one of the few instances they could. “My friend. He comes and talks to me at night time when I can’t sleep. He knows a firefighter.” He looked down at his sparkly pink sneakers and smiled as they twinkled in the scant sunlight streaming in from the bus window. 

It wasn’t uncommon for kids to develop imaginary friends. Most kids had more creative ones, but kids with lots of trauma or super, scary smart kids sometimes just had… people. Sometimes other kids with rich, complex social lives. Imaginary moms and dads, brothers and sisters. Sometimes adults who filled out roles they were missing in their lives. 

“You’re friends with a firefighter now too.” You bumped your shoulder with his. Caelum blinked up at you as he rested his head against the bus window. 

“He just knows them.” Caelum mumbled, his eyes slipping closed. His cheeks were still ruddy from his tears. “They’re not friends.” 

He drifted off, head lolling with the motions of the bus. You watched out the window as the city rolled by. You spotted a fancy, silver car parked a few blocks from the firehouse. You’d have to mention it to Vincent. He’d know what sort of pretentious make and model it was. Hell, he’d probably know the asking price off the top of his head.

[magiefish]

There is a name oft spoken of in hushed tones within the circles of those who are fans of the Fifth Doctor’s era. It has a rating of 3.5 on the Timescales; it has no plot description; it is the reason why the TARDIS wiki has an article for ‘anal probe’. But, as much as it mentioned and then hushed up, there is at present no further in-depth guide to this novels bizarreness, it’s staggeringly low-quality, it’s unrelenting horniness. If one wishes to understand this horror, one must read it firsthand. Well no more. I, in the name of knowledge and first-hand wisdom, have decided to set out on a journey so that no others may have to undertake it, and with the skills I have honed through my study of English Literature provide a degree of critique and commentary to Keith Topping’s infamous offspring.

I, dear readers, am going to liveblog reading The King of Terror. Starting now.

The King Of Terror Liveblog: Part One

[TW: This being the King of Terror, we will almost certainly be getting into discussions of SA/non-consensual sex. The word ‘r@pe’ will almost definitely come up (indeed it literally comes up on the first page). Also, I will not be censoring it beyond this point because a) this isn’t TikTok, and b) even if I used ‘grape’ or something everyone would still know what I was talking about so there’s no real point. I assume everyone here is a mature adult who doesn’t need to hide behind codes in order to discuss serious and upsetting topics. If you are not, Please God Don’t Read This, it will likely still be here by the time you’re old enough. Go watch the show instead, it’s better and more family friendly (and has well-written violence and kissing in it). If these topics bring up any unpleasant memories for you or will put you in a bad state of mind, then please do not read this live blog, it is not worth it. Furthermore, I imagine various kinds of bigotry will come up in incredibly breezy barely relevant ways (sexism, racism, homophobia, etc.) because this is the year 2000 we’re talking about. There’s also probably something related to medical trauma in here. I will also probably get Very Angry as a lover of literature and Doctor Who at some point, so we’ll see how that goes. Anyways, onwards and downwards.]

Wow, I feel sorry for these guys

Interesting choice. Wonder how this will be relevant to the ‘themes’ of this work.

Huh. Okay. This isn’t actually a bad start. A bit pretentious maybe, but the descriptions are very visceral and it’s certainly a good hook, perhaps this won’t be so bad-

Aaaaand yep not even a page in and we’re already using the phrase “rape”, really cool Keith, very mature and based. Now, I’m not categorically averse to using the phrase ‘rape’ semi-metaphorically. But it is one of those words that has to be handled very carefully and with a proper understanding of the feelings and ideas that it implies.

‘The Things’ (the 2010 short story based off of ‘The Thing’) uses it towards the end in a way that I feel illustrates my point - the alien is disgusted by humanity and our ‘individualised’ existences and decides to forcefully ‘teach’ us why it’s so much better to be like it via the means of, y’know, infecting people with parts of it and then making them go all schlorp. Right before it assimilates one of the men, he calls it a ‘rapist’ which the alien later adopts in the final line of the story: ‘I will rape it into them’. Now, to me, this works because the aliens convictions are painted in a somewhat religious light throughout the story and also because assimilating people is literally a physical violation, so the use of the word at the stories end seems to be used to deliberately conjure ideas of ‘corrective’ SA in a way that feels intentional given the previously discussed themes. It is also, as I have noted, used right at the end as the final line of the story, in a way that indicates to me that the writer understood the very visceral feelings the word evokes and decided to reserve it to be used to reinforce the bleak, foreboding tone of the ending.

Keith does not do this. Keith decides to use the idea of SA and all its violent implications right out of the gate to, presumably, shock the reader and try to grab their attention. He did not have to do this. His abstract, vague descriptions and in-media-res opening were enough by themselves. What this belies to me is a) a belief that violence or shock are inherently compelling and b) a lack of confidence in the strength of his writing on its own. We shall see if I am correct in both of these estimations.

Now, Keith is certainly not the only writer guilty of a very liberal use of SA in the wilderness years of Doctor Who. It seems, from the little I have read, almost inescapable. I remember reading ‘Goth Opera’ and the word ‘rape’ being used to describe what the Mara did to Tegan within, like, the first 30 pages or something. (Which, okay, some critics have definitely compared the scene from ‘Kinda’ where the Mara possesses her to an SA scene, but within the first 30 pages? And without unpacking any of that? Mr. Cornell??) But that doesn’t excuse any of this it just makes him another part of a rather unfortunate pattern.

Oooo somebody wrote this before ‘The Weddding of River Song’. Keith Hopping JNT just called, he wants you to know that fucking with the UNIT timeline is his domain.

So old Keith is aware of Shadows Over Avalon. I don’t really know how much cross-continuity was going on with the PDA / EDA / VNA / VMA writers, so I’m not really certain whether this reference to stuff that has happened in other stories is complacent or unusual. I haven’t actually read Shadows Over Avalon, I’m not that far into the EDA’s (I got distracted before I could read Alien Bodies :( ).

WILL this man ever get to enjoy retirement!

I was never under the impression that the Brigadier was a straight up Tory but I haven’t seen that much of him so what do I know? Also, ‘a smile of admiration’? What, cause being a Tory is just such good old lovable nostalgic Britain? And patriotism too? Ugh. Anyway, the set-up for this narrative is seemingly that a bunch of UNIT files have been decommissioned. This journalist is initially interviewing the Brigadier about a case involving the Waro (who were in Keith’s last book “The Devil Goblins From Neptune”, so, nice self-repping Keith).

This then moves into the two of them discussing the Doctor and his involvement with some company called ‘Intercom’, setting up the events of this story. I also don’t know what the Brig is on about here with the Doctor being ‘a man of peace’ because *I* definitely saw Three’s Venusian moves but okay. Anyway, this section is attributed to an in-universe book so it seems like Keith is trying to a bit of a meta-textual House of Leaves thing. Let’s see how he succeeds in the next post, which will be a reblog of this one.

[lifeafterpsychiatry]

tw abuse mention

i hate the concept of non compliance, my case manager for my mental health kept being mad at me for not "progressing" until i was finally able to get free of my abusive (now ex) partner, who literally sat in on every therapy session and medical appointment i ever had, and wouldn't let me progress! i wasn't deliberately not complying, i was being abused, and no one seemed to find it weird my ex never let me be alone because i had anxiety 😅

Yeah this is a very common problem actually, that people develop mental health issues based in social issues (abuse, trauma, poverty, discrimination, loneliness, etc) but the mental health professionals they see don't actually take their circumstances into consideration when "treating" them. This is one of the biggest concerns of trying to reduce complex biopsychosocial issues to an irrational chemical imbalance that can be "corrected" regardless of circumstances