#Tw: overdose

[macgyvermedical]

PSA:

Acetaminophen/paracetamol has a hard stop upper dose limit, above which it becomes extremely toxic.

That limit is 4g (8 “extra strength” (500mg) tablets) in 24 hours (about 2 tablets every 6 hours).

A single dose of 22 extra strength tablets can kill you.

Taking 12 or more tablets per day for more than a week can also kill you (this is about 3 tablets every 6 hours).

Symptoms of overdose take up to 24 hours to manifest, and are fairly difficult to distinguish from other problems. They include abdominal pain (especially right upper quadrant), nausea, malaise, and confusion.

The antidote (n-acetylcystine) must be given within 8hours of ingestion in order to be useful.

After 10 hours the only thing that will work is a liver transplant.

You might think “why would I ever accidentally take so much?”

Well, acetaminophen is in almost everything in the cold/flu/pain aisle. Migraine combos like Excedrin, cold and flu combos like NyQuil, basically anything that says “non-aspirin pain relief”, and anything that’s branded as a fever reducer. It’s all probably acetaminophen/paracetamol.

So the goal of this post is to get you to read the labels on your medications. Because taking taking Tylenol and NyQuil together for a week (like you might if you had the flu) could kill you.

[seasaltyjack]

Anya

Alt ver:

[thebekashow]

Just two best friends, trying to stay warm despite the horrors

-

-

"Let me keep her warm for just a moment longer.. please.."

[whump-imagines]

College Parties

Buck & little sister reader

WC: 1575

Warnings: drugging, overdose... cover your drinks people.

It was your last college party. You and your roommate, Becca, were making the most of celebrating before graduation. Or at least you assumed that she was, you hadn't seen her in nearly an hour.

You mingled and spent most of the night talking about everyone's future plans. You had also been getting hit on all night and turning down every offer to get out of there.

Walking through the house towards the back deck, someone came around a corner and bumped straight into you. Your drink sloshed and you almost lost your balance but he was quick to wrap one arm around your waist and steady your drink with the other. “Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry.”

You looked up as he chuckled. His name was John or maybe Jack, you couldn't be sure. You’d already turned down an offer from him once tonight. “You can bump into me anytime you want,” he said, flashing you a cocky smirk.

Fighting the urge to physically shudder at his tacky line, you quickly extracted yourself from his grasp. “Later,” you brushed past him without further comment. As you walked you threw back the rest of your lukewarm drink, cringing at the taste.

You walked out the back door to get some fresh air. There were several groups of people huddled around laughing and chatting and a loud group playing beer pong.

Within a few minutes, your slight buzz shifted to world-spinning dizziness. Next you felt sweat accumulate at your hairline. When you lifted your hand to wipe it away you realized your hands were shaking.

You quickly headed into the nearest bathroom and locked the handle as you closed the door. Taking a deep breath, you stared at your reflection as you tried to collect yourself. Turning on the water, you splashed the cool liquid over your face.

Nothing seemed to be helping and you knew you hadn't drank enough to feel like this. “Shit.”

You pulled your phone out of your back pocket and hesitated as the screen lit up. “He's gonna kill me.” You took a deep breath as you opened the phone app. Squeezing your eyes closed, you reminded yourself, “he’ll be angrier if something happens and you didn't call.” Then you tapped your big brother’s name and the line started to ring.

“Hello?” His chipper voice came through. You guessed he hadn't checked the caller ID before answering.

“B-Buck?” you muttered quietly.

“Hey, sis.” You could hear the chatter of the firehouse in the background. “What's up?”

You were silent for a moment too long as you tried to collect your thoughts through the sudden haze.

“Hello? Y/N, you okay?” He asked.

“Um, I–I don't know.”

You heard the background noise on his end quiet. “What do you mean?”

You sniffled. “Can you come get me? I'm at a party and I have been drinking but uh–” you stopped as you spaced out again.

You could hear the urgency and concern in his voice as he nearly yelled into the phone. “But what?”

“I don't feel right.” You sat down on the floor with your back against the cool tub. “I only had a couple drinks and I've been here for hours.”

“Where are you?”

You huffed. “I told you. At a party.”

“Where?” He asked again.

“Where at the party? I'm in a bathroom.” You explained what you thought he wanted to know. “Buck, I swear I only had two drinks and one shot. I feel like I had 20. I feel like I'm on a boat. Ugh, I think I might puke,” you rambled.

“Y/N, focus,” Buck interrupted. “Where is the party? What's the address?”

“I don't know. I didn't drive, Becca did.”

You heard him mumble like he was covering the phone. “How long were you in the car? Is it a house? Do you know what street?”

You leaned your head back, suddenly exhausted. “Uhh, we went to dinner. Then we came back toward campus. Gayley!” You suddenly yelled remembering the street name. “Can you come?”

You heard the sigh of relief. “I'm coming. You stay in that bathroom. Is the door locked?”

You peeled your eyes open at the question unsure when you'd closed them.

Glancing at the door to check. “Y/N?” you heard Buck ask urgently.

“Hmm?” You acknowledged.

“Is the door locked?” He asked once more.

“I, uh, don't… I-I think so.”

“Can you check?” He requested.

“I'm so tired,” you gave him your excuse. “I don't think I can get up.”

Then, suddenly someone was knocking and jiggling the door knob. You squeaked as you startled at the noise.

“What happened?” You could tell Buck was panicking.

“Someone knocked,” you explained. “They couldn't open the door.”

“Good. Don't unlock it. We’ll be there soon.” You heard the sirens through the phone.

Your eyes slipped closed once more. “So tired.”

“Don't fall asleep. You keep talking to me.”

You were quiet as you fought to keep your eyes open. “Ev?” You rarely used his old nickname anymore.

“I'm right here,” he reassured.

You shuddered. “I'm scared,” you admitted in a whisper.

“I'm coming,” he promised. “We are two minutes away. You'll be okay.”

“Okay,” you whispered as the world went dark.

Forcing your eyes open, you squinted away from the bright lights. You glanced around trying to figure out where you were. Turning your head, your eyes landed on your hand noticing the IV placed there. Next, you spotted Eddie in a chair beside your bed.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion as he stood. “W-what?” Your voice cracked and your throat throbbed.

Eddie picked up a cup of water and placed the straw in your mouth. “Slow sips.”

You drank a little and then cleared your throat. “What happened? Where’s Buck?”

“Maddie and Buck just went to talk to your doctor.” He explained. “They will be back in here in a minute.”

“What happened?” You asked again.

He glanced toward the door before locking eyes with you. “They'll be right back. You can talk to them.”

You scowled then tried to recall the last thing you could before you'd woken up here. It was finals week, you'd been celebrating with Becca. Dinner and then you were driving back to campus. The last thing you remembered was the car. “Oh, my god. Were we in a car accident?” You panicked. “Is Becca okay? Eddie, you have to tell me what happened!”

He grabbed your hand and squeezed. “You were not in an accident. Take a deep breath, Becca is fine.”

A moment later, the door swung open and the doctor rushed in followed by your siblings. The doctor was looking between you and the monitors beside the bed.

“Last thing she remembers is the car ride to the party,” Eddie explained. “She guessed they were in an accident and started to hyperventilate.”

“You weren't in an accident,” Buck reiterated. His eyes were bloodshot and he looked like he'd been crying. “You made it to the party. You called me asking me to come get you because you didn't feel well.”

You couldn't help but to try to connect the pieces. You'd been at a party and called Buck because you'd felt sick but had zero memory of any of it. “Oh, my god. No. No, no, no.”

Buck grabbed the hand that Eddie had been holding a moment earlier. “Nothing happened,” he said, knowing what you were thinking. “Someone drugged you but you locked yourself in the bathroom and you called me.”

Releasing the breath you'd been holding, you whispered, “Thanks god.” You coughed against the remnant pain in your throat. Maddie handed you the cup with the straw and you guzzled the rest of it. “Why does my throat hurt?”

Buck squeezed your hand. “From the tube.”

Your eyes widened. “What?”

The doctor spoke up. “You were given GHB. Whoever gave it to you overdosed you. GHB in high doses suppressed the respiratory drive. You were intubated to help you breathe while the drugs cleared your system.”

Tears welled in your eyes as fear swept through you. “I–I could have died.”

Maddie wiped away her own tears. “But you didn't. That's all that matters.”

You closed your eyes trying desperately to remember more. “How did someone drug me?”

“Someone probably slipped it into a drink.” The doctor offered.

“No.” You shook your head. “I don't take drinks from anyone. My friends don't even make my drink because I like to control the liquor to soda mix. They think I'm a freak about it. No way I took a drink from anyone.”

The doctor shrugged. “Someone could have dropped something into your cup when you were distracted.”

You shuddered at the thought. “Guess I'm glad it was my last party. When can I go home?”

Buck huffed out a chuckle and Maddie sighed in frustration.

“You've been conscious for less than ten minutes and you're trying for a jailbreak,” Buck said.

“I'd like to keep you a few more hours just to be safe but I expect you can be home late this afternoon. For now, get some rest.”

As the doctor left, Buck leaned down and squeezed you in an awkward hug. “Thank you for calling me.”

You took a deep breath. The reality of what could have happened hitting hard. Hiccuping on a sob, you tried to contain your emotions. “Thanks for showing up.”

He kissed your forehead. “Always.”

[why-i-love-comics]

Poison Ivy/Swamp Thing: Feral Trees #1 (2024)

written by G. Willow Wilson art by Mike Perkins & Mike Spicer

[monzterzack]

volatile and careless

[cipher-zoo]

Usopp: You look like a corpse that was just pulled out of the river. Brook: Wrong. I look like a cool rock star who OD'd in their own pool. Big difference.

[aftgficrec]

Can you please suggest fics where neil and bee have more interactions. Or even ones about andrew and bee talking about neil or anything else

Btw I really really appreciate everything yall do! God bless you.

Here is what we found for you. -A

Neil/andreil talk to Bee:

Neil goes to therapy here

‘we softly stir the violence’ and ‘Healing’ series parts 1 & 3 here

‘“I wish I'd never…”’ here

‘Andrew Minyards Crystal’ here

‘pain our brain has made’ here (updated)

‘not to blame for falling’ series and ‘sidelines’ here

‘on the tip of my tongue (say something)’ series here (completed)

‘Andrew and Neil's guide to getting better’ series here

‘True Love Waits’ series here

‘Cyberstalking’ here

‘Promises’ here

‘A Taste of Your Own Medicine’ here

‘The Massive Continuity of Ducks’ and ‘Ghost of You’ here

‘A collection of Andreil one-shots’ ch 3 here

‘I Don't Know’ here

‘The Destination Was Always Forever’ (updated), ‘Minyard-Josten Rivalry’ (updated), ‘sunrise, abram’ series, ‘and in a flash, it's gone.’ series part 2, and ‘Stay Where I Can Reach’ here

Andrew talks to Bee about Neil:

previous ask here

‘Unspoken’ here

‘AFTG Drabbles’ parts 1 & 8 here

‘Paper Cut Hearts’ here

‘the shuffling of cards’ here

‘words can't warm the windows of my soul’ here

‘The Hand That Needs Me’ here

‘Mother Mannequin’ here

‘Anything’ here

‘the icarus to your certainty’ here

‘No straighter path than to struggle’ here

‘Can we can pretend like we're (not) in love?’ here

Neil Josten is Not Fine by Anonymous [Rated T, 3362 Words, Complete, AFTG Then & Never 2024]

After weeks of nightmares and an embarrassing discovery, Neil finally decides to pay Betsy a visit.

tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: nightmares, tw: bedwetting

i'll take anything you have (if you could throw me a line) by ifitmeanslosingyou [Rated M, 923 Words, Complete, 2024]

the sunrise can be pretty, neil thinks, but instead of the pinks and oranges washing him with ease, neil can’t help the panic at the thought that he’s been up here for longer than he planned to he wonders if anyone has even realized he left the dorms in the first place, wonders if andrew even looked when neil left the bedroom, wonders if he gave up, wonders if he finally came to his senses and realized neil was more trouble than he’s worth wonders if the roof of the court is high enough that the fall would kill him day 31: asking for help | therapy | “i’m alive, i’m just not well”

tw: suicidal thoughts, tw: implied/referenced self harm

help, I've lost myself again (but I remember you) by abitsillygoofy [Not Rated, 5320 Words, Complete, 2024]

“Neil we have to talk about it,” Betsy said “I don’t think so” Neil replied “Nope, not happening” He popped the p at the end trying to make the woman mad at him. “You just tried to kill yourself, so I think we have to have this talk” Betsy didn’t seem bothered by his act and kept her nice, neutral facial expression, but unlike on his session looked worried too. or Neil wakes up in the hospital after his suicide attempt and has to face what he did.

tw: suicide attempt, tw: self harm, tw: blood

keep telling me that it gets better (does it ever?) by phan_taloon [Rated M, 15415 Words, Complete, 2022, Locked]

Previously recced here

AU where Neil never met the Foxes, with a little less mafia and a little more pain for Neil when he ends up captured by Nathan for months, and has to deal with the consequences by himself. He ends up in treatment for chronic pain with opioids, and let's just say opioid use is tricky when you're alone and in pain; one thing can lead to another more easily than it seems.

tw: drug addiction, tw: drug overdose, tw: withdrawal, tw: suicidal thoughts, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: vomit

an acquired taste the asbestos is lovely by cyanica [Rated M, 6617 Words, Complete, 2024, Locked]

“What did you take?” Andrew demands. Neil wonders if Andrew will taste all that is wrong with Neil when he kisses him. He wonders if Andrew will recognize it. Andrew knows what it is to hurt himself, and this must be familiar. It’s deja vu, Neil thinks, if only a little bit worse, a little more terrible. Neil shakes his head, groaning into the toilet, “I don’t want to tell you.” Andrew pulls out his phone, and Neil can already hear it dialling when he says, “You can tell the paramedics.” Or; “Cigarettes,” Neil says. “I ate your cigarettes.”

tw: self harm, tw: overdose, tw: pica, tw: eating disorders, tw: vomit, tw: blood, tw: mental breakdown, tw: implied/referenced abuse

If it means protecting you (I’ll pay my dues) by Intangibel (duskbutterfly) [Rated T, 125462 Words, Incomplete, Updated April 2023]

Previously recced here

What if the threat of Aaron being charged with murder was more significant and Neil found out that he could prevent Andrew from having to be at the trial if he were to testify. What would he be willing to sacrifice to achieve that? What if instead of refusing to testify for Aaron, Neil decides to make a deal with the FBI to become their witness against his father if they’ll backstop his current identity. He thinks it means signing his death warrant and losing the Foxes. Betsy, Aaron and the Foxes are determined to convince him it doesn’t have to be all or nothing, his father’s people are coming for him and that’s not even starting on what Andrew will have to say about Neil choosing to martyr himself.

tw: graphic depictions of violence, tw: child abuse, tw: torture, tw: blood, tw: scars, tw: vomit, tw: implied/referenced drug addiction, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced csa, tw: homophobia, tw: conversion camp reference, tw: reenactment therapy with noncon

The Sun Still Rises by mordax [Rated E, 474451 Words, Incomplete, Updated Oct 2024]

Previously recced here

Somewhere on the road, Mary Hatford gets pregnant with her second child. When she passes, she leaves behind not only Neil, but his toddler brother. Survival is difficult without also raising a kid. Worn out and desperate, Neil still somehow ends up at Palmetto, only this time, he brings his four-year-old brother with him.

tw: violence, tw: anxiety, tw: panic attacks,  tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: drug use, tw: involuntary sedation, tw: reenactment therapy with noncon

NB: find fanart for this fic by @/elidanus on twitter here

Ain’t it fun by jemejem [Rated T (we say M) 30672 Words, Complete, 2018]

Neil can't sleep. Andrew can't feel. High school is going well for the both of them.

tw: homophobia, tw: mental breakdown, tw: anxiety, tw: depression, tw: suicidal thoughts, tw: suicide attempt, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: scars, tw: ptsd, tw: psychological trauma, tw: flashbacks

I been here all along (so why can't you see?) by alexcherry [Rated G, 8691 Words, Complete, 2021]

Andrew leans on the counter beside Neil's thigh. "Where do you want to go, Josten? What favor do you need from me?" Neil looked at Andrew and steeled himself. "I want you to come with me to the next therapy session with Betsy posing as my boyfriend." "Like one," Andrew thought for a moment. "Couple therapy?" Neil perked up. "Yes! Exactly, and then we see how long it takes her to find out we're not connected at all."

tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: implied/referenced murder

If You Need Shelter by AfraidOfBananas [Rated M, 2642 Words, Complete, 2021]

“The boy is staring at Neil with a startled expression like he’s just seen a ghost. Well, maybe he has. Neil hasn’t felt alive for a very long time.” Or.....Neil meets Andrew while he’s on the run

Family by BlueJay26 [Not Rated, 9420 Words, Complete, 2021, Locked]

The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb. Three adults who certainly proved this was true, and their (sort of) children who realised a family isn't always linked by blood. Also known as, how Abby, Bee and Wymack earned their family's love and trust.

tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: internalized homophobia

Art

Abby and Betsy art by @rainbowd00dles 

Betsy 💕💕 art by @neroholik

Mom and Dad and Mom art by @llstarcasterll

Betsy and Abby 💖 art by @jeannemaybedarc

Betsy Dobson cosplay by @/toobeetofunction on instagram

@drbetsydobson instagram account/moodboard

[chaoticace2005]

Reasons Angel has stripes/hearts/spots:

1. The spots are from freckles he had while alive, the stripes/hearts are there for another reason

2. He had vitiligo while alive and the marks resemble his skin

3. Scars from when he was alive

4. Scars from when his time in hell, the fur grows back different if there is enough damage.

5. He got tattoos/fur dyed in Hell

6. Could be Val’s way of branding him

7. Could be that he chose to do it if his own volition

8. Could be that he got high and went to a tattoo parlor

9. He got a tattoos while alive that transferred over in Hell

10. He just arrived in Hell with markings because of his past/sins, rather than it being carried over from his body in life.

11. The red stuff Valentino produces dyed him

12. Those aren’t his markings, that’s actually another layer of clothes he wears underneath his clothes

13. He wore his blazer so much that the lines just stained onto his skin

14. He got the stripes when he was placed on a BBQ grill

15. He got the stipes when Arackniss ran him over with a tricycle when they were little.

16. He got the stripes so people can’t tell if he’s wearing clothes or not

17. Got washed in a dryer with red clothes

18. It was the red wine bath

19. He banged the Kool Aid man

20. Some kid drew on him while he was sleeping

21. He’s sponsored by Valentine’s Day, so he needs to advertise for them 247 by representing them

22. Was blessed by Asmodeus, king of Lust

23. It’s not his skin, it’s another spiders that he picked up after their shed and put on

24. It’s makeup he puts on daily

25. Died when his heart gave out on him during an overdose, the world has a shitty sense of humor.

26. Tie dye group activity gone wrong

27. Was told nobody would ever love him so he got hearts in a twisted sense of irony

28. The universe shipped Huskerdust so hard they gave them both hearts in their demon forms

29. All the spots are his eyes. He has many.

[occultradio]

Line though = telepathy tw: death tw: overdose (story under cut)

Z̵͇̖͋̔y̸̫͆̀'̴̫̿l̴͚̓o̴̜̓̄'̶̗̑͠ǐ̴̭̐n̷̯̳̒: Viscera? Get up.

Z̵͇̖͋̔y̸̫͆̀'̴̫̿l̴͚̓o̴̜̓̄'̶̗̑͠ǐ̴̭̐n̷̯̳̒: Didn't I just give you offspring? Viscera: Your beautiful! Ah shit, sorry, I can't mind speak back. I can hear you though! Z̵͇̖͋̔y̸̫͆̀'̴̫̿l̴͚̓o̴̜̓̄'̶̗̑͠ǐ̴̭̐n̷̯̳̒: It's blocked? Forget that for now. You over dosed on Lavender? Viscera's heart sank realizing what he had done and began sobbing

Z̵͇̖͋̔y̸̫͆̀'̴̫̿l̴͚̓o̴̜̓̄'̶̗̑͠ǐ̴̭̐n̷̯̳̒: You've abandoned one of my special children. I've been pushing you two to be together since childhood and you keep screwing things up don't you? V: I..what?! I didn't know Trace then Z̵͇̖͋̔y̸̫͆̀'̴̫̿l̴͚̓o̴̜̓̄'̶̗̑͠ǐ̴̭̐n̷̯̳̒: That's because you weren't paying attention. Why did you abandon them? V: I ..I didn't mean to! I just wanted to be numb I haven't been able to climb out of the trenches myself. Oh fuck oh fuck....my family.....

Z̵͇̖͋̔y̸̫͆̀'̴̫̿l̴͚̓o̴̜̓̄'̶̗̑͠ǐ̴̭̐n̷̯̳̒: I'll give you another chance, if you continue to protect my demigod

V: WHAT!?!

V: If Trace is then why don't you have someone better protecting them?! Z̵͇̖͋̔y̸̫͆̀'̴̫̿l̴͚̓o̴̜̓̄'̶̗̑͠ǐ̴̭̐n̷̯̳̒: Because they need protection from regular mortals. Their one of my Dream Eaters, Your corrupt governments have stolen my special children before.

Z̵͇̖͋̔y̸̫͆̀'̴̫̿l̴͚̓o̴̜̓̄'̶̗̑͠ǐ̴̭̐n̷̯̳̒:You didn't think it was a bit odd that a sterile hybrid was able to breed with only you?~

V: Zy'lo'in! HOW THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO KEEP A DEMI GOD SAFE FROM THE FUCKING GOVERN...

Before Viscera could finish speaking he felt a hand hit him across the face Z̵͇̖͋̔y̸̫͆̀'̴̫̿l̴͚̓o̴̜̓̄'̶̗̑͠ǐ̴̭̐n̷̯̳̒: Don't raise your voice to me! Shouting my name when you've forgotten how to pronounce your old words

V: I'm sorry...I just really love Trace and I would probably end up back here if anything happened to them...and it wouldn't be an accident.

Z̵͇̖͋̔y̸̫͆̀'̴̫̿l̴͚̓o̴̜̓̄'̶̗̑͠ǐ̴̭̐n̷̯̳̒: Try not to worry too much, I protect my extended family's. Go get to your body before your mate wakes up. You've been doing great with them, keep Trace out of trouble. Your going to want to keep your eyes on your gorgeous offspring too

Prev / Next

[sunshine-and-moonshine]

I really like other people’s remix of Ghost’s backstory but sometimes they feel a little tame cause I’m standing here like🧍and thinking about how in my head he, at 16/17, gave his dad another dose of drugs while he was sleeping so he’d overdose and keel over

[gloomysoup]

when the world stops turning (my heart stops beating) - pt. 4

hello yes i know it's been a while. this part has been a pain in my ass for months. i needed to get it just right and rewrote this thing so many times it's not even funny. and now, after editing it five times over the last two days, i'm just posting it. what's done is done. if i came back to it again i would have rewritten and i don't wanna do that. so here it is at least. there is also going to be at least one more part. i'm shooting for two more hopefully but i make no promises. the next part could very well be the last. i hope you enjoy :)

ao3 pt 1 pt 2 pt 3 pt 4

cw: hospitals, dissociation, mentions of overdose, addiction, sobriety, and relapse

Eddie couldn’t move. His body was fighting against every instinct he should have in the moment. Someone could throw something directly at his head, and he wouldn’t react. The buzzing voices around him faded in and out as he stared at a chip in the wood of the table in front of him.

One of Steve’s doctors had finally come to speak with them. They couldn’t say anything for certain at the moment, but he was alive, and that’s all Eddie heard before his head went fuzzy again. His mind was still reeling, caught on the fact that he should have seen this. He should have noticed. He should have been able to help Steve. He failed the only person who’d ever loved him like that, the only one who ever would love Eddie like that. Because Steve was it for him. He’d always known that. No one else would even come close. No one could ever compare to Steve Harrington.

Not only had he failed Steve, but he’d failed Robin too. He was supposed to keep Steve safe. Robin couldn’t lose her best friend; Eddie knew that. He’d promised to take care of him. He couldn’t even do that one thing right. God, what was he going to tell Robin?

They didn’t want Steve to have visitors yet. Eddie managed to gather that much at least. It was still touch and go. He wasn’t awake. They weren’t sure if he ever would be. They’re flushing his system, but it’s really just a game of wait and see. They might be able to see him in the morning, but the doctor wasn’t making any promises. It all depended on how the rest of the night went. If he made it through. They couldn’t say anything else for certain. There had been a lot of drugs in his system. He’d been deprived of oxygen for a long time. There was no way to be sure what would happen next. That was all up to Steve now.

Eddie sat there in that uncomfortable waiting room chair for hours. He didn’t move. He didn’t eat or drink. He didn’t even get up to go to the bathroom. He just sat there, staring at the same chip in the wooden table. His friends all tried their best to get through to him. They tried to coax him into eating or drinking something, but their efforts were unsuccessful. No one could get through to him, and he preferred it that way. He deserved to sit in his own silence, letting his brain run reckless and spiral to the depths of his fears and anxiety. He had failed.

He noticed that the more time seemed to pass, the antsier his bandmates got. Though, he couldn’t be exactly sure that’s what was happening. Time escaped him.

Time was such a funny thing, wasn’t it? It can feel like it speeds up, slows down, or stops entirely, but it never changes. It’s always the same. It’s all in the imagination. Eddie was never that good at telling time as a child. Even as he grew older, he found it difficult to keep track. As he sat in that hospital, his entire life on the brink of falling apart at the seams, time was nowhere to be found. Nothing made sense. He just sat silently, staring. People moved around him, time passed, but Eddie didn’t move. He was trapped. His body was at the hospital, but his mind kept bouncing around. From his mom, to Wayne, to Steve on the bathroom floor. An endless cycle. Eddie was hanging on by a single thread: the only thread of life left in Steve.

Eddie would never survive if Steve didn’t make it out alive.

Eddie was aware that a long time had passed only by the ache in his joints and the dryness of his mouth. He also sort of needed to pee, but that wasn’t important. At least, not important enough to warrant getting up. He couldn't move. He needed to stay right in that spot. Nothing was more important than that.

“Come on, Ed,” Wayne’s gruff voice said from somewhere behind him. Eddie stayed rooted to the spot. “It’s time to go, kid. We’ve gotta get to the reception.”

Eddie stood silently, staring straight ahead at the marble headstone. His mother’s name was engraved with curly letters. Eddie hadn’t known that was possible. There were piles of flowers that he knew wouldn’t be there next week. He didn’t speak. His feet were glued to the soft ground beneath him. His suit was itchy and his worn dress shoes were a size too small. The tie around his neck was suffocating. He couldn’t breathe.

He broke down right there, tears rolling down his cheeks and gasping sobs bursting from his chest. He sank down to the ground at the foot of his mother’s fresh grave, clawing at the stupid red tie that his mother had bought him two years prior and the collar of his white dress shirt. Wayne sighed softly and sat down beside him, gently pulling his hands away and shushing Eddie as he loosened the tie. He let him collapse against his chest, tie almost completely off and the first two buttons of his shirt undone. Wayne held him through each wracking sob and stuttering breath, murmuring comfort until he’d gotten it all out.

“I couldn’t do it, Uncle Wayne,” Eddie whispered hoarsely. “Why couldn’t I do it?”

“Do what, Ed?”

“Save her.”

Why couldn't he do it?

“Eddie, seriously, you need to eat something,” Jeff said, holding out a bag of chips from the vending machine. Eddie stared blankly at the bag, seeing but not really. He heard the words coming from Jeff’s mouth, but his body refused to respond. He couldn’t quite fully process what he was saying. It slipped out of his head before he got the chance, replaced with his mother’s voice, or Steve promising he was fine. He was fine. There was nothing wrong. It was just weed. Nothing more. He was fine.

He lied.

What else had Steve lied about? What else was he keeping from Eddie? Every time Steve came home late, claiming some generic excuse about work or traffic or whatever else it may have been, how often had those been lies? What had he been doing instead? Getting high? Shooting up in a parking garage somewhere? Was he ever with someone else? Someone who wasn’t Eddie?

Steve would never cheat. Eddie had to remind himself of that over and over again. Repeat it on a loop in his head. Anything to get it to stay there.

He would not cheat. He would not cheat. He would not cheat.

But he would lie.

Eddie has never been insecure about their relationship before. He loved Steve more than anything. He always knew Steve felt the same. Steve loved him. No questions asked. Eddie knew. He didn't need to be told that Steve loved him. It was just obvious. Now, though, Eddie was second guessing everything. Why would he lie? If Steve could lie so easily about something like this, what else had he lied about? Had their whole relationship been a lie? Has Steve ever told him the truth about anything?

His brain swirled with more thoughts, more insecurities. He stared at the chip in the table as he spiraled. His fingers and toes were tingling. This couldn’t be real. It had to be a dream, a nightmare. Any minute now, he was going to wake up. Everything would be fine. It was just one big nightmare. He would be laying in bed next to Steve, who would be snoring softly. He would roll over and tuck his arms around his boyfriend’s waist. He could hold him tight, bury his nose in the back of Steve’s neck and breathe in the scent of his shampoo. He could fall back into a peaceful sleep with Steve in his arms, safe and sound.

Except he wasn't waking up. No matter how much he tried, no matter how hard he willed his eyes to open, it didn't happen. He was trapped. There was no escape. Steve wasn't there. He may never be there again. This was all Eddie’s fault. If only he’d noticed. If only he cared enough. None of it was enough. Eddie wasn’t enough. He never should have expected to be enough for Steve. Steve deserved better.

Eddie never should have asked him to come on tour with them.

If Eddie hadn’t asked him to go, this never would have happened. Steve would be at home, in their apartment with Robin, probably sleeping in her room every night. He hated sleeping alone. He’d be sitting on the couch, wrapped up in one of Eddie’s hoodies and the threadbare blue blanket they took from the trailer when they moved, watching movies with Robin and a bowl of popcorn. He wouldn’t be dying in a hospital in New York. He’d be happy and safe. Eddie would miss him like hell, but at least he would be safe.

The sun was shining, blindingly bright, through the tall windows on the far wall of the waiting room when the doctor finally came back. Eddie’s knee had taken to bouncing anxiously a while ago, maybe an hour, maybe more. He can’t be sure. His brain had mostly come back online, but he still felt a little foggy. Untethered. His world was unbalanced. His ears were still ringing even as the doctor started talking. He barely heard a single word. Snippets of information filtered through the fog. Stable. Made it through the night. Up to Steve now. ICU. Visitors. The next thing he knows, Jeff is leading him through the halls with the doctor. It’s just the three of them. Other doctors and nurses bustled around them.

They finally crossed the double doors into the ICU. Eddie’s heart pounded as the doctor led them over to one of the sliding doors. She opened it, and Eddie couldn't move. He could hear the machines inside, see the edge of the hospital bed. If he turned his head a little, he knew he would see Steve. The doctor walked in and picked up the chart at the foot of the bed. She flipped it open and clicked her pen, writing things down and glancing at monitors.

“Eddie, why don't we go inside?” Jeff suggested softly, his hand on Eddie’s arm. “Steve needs you right now.”

Eddie's feet moved of their own accord, taking slow steps into the room. Jeff followed behind him, closing the door once they were both in the room. He carefully led Eddie over to the chair, giving him a light push on the shoulder to sit him down. As soon as he was close enough, Eddie grabbed Steve’s hand. An instinct he would probably always have. It didn't matter what was going on in his brain. If Steve’s hand was there, Eddie was holding it.

“Is he okay?” the doctor asked gently, nodding to Eddie.

Jeff sighed. “I hope so. This is all really hard on him.”

“How long have they been together?”

Jeff looked up, a little startled. It may have been New York, and queer relationships were a little more accepted than they were just a few years ago, but Steve and Eddie had always been careful. Cautious. They all had. But she was quick to respond before Jeff could even think to redirect.

“It’s okay, really. I know what love looks like. I would look at my partner the same way if something like this ever happened to her.”

“Oh.” Jeff glanced at Eddie, who had his eyes glued to Steve’s hand in his. “Um… it’s been almost eight years now. They’ve been through a lot together.”

She closed the chart and put it back at the end of the bed. She nodded a few times, watching the machines that beeped rhythmically. “I’m going to hold on to hope,” she said softly. “For them. For everyone like us. I can’t say anything for certain; this is all up to Steve. We’re doing everything we can. But I’m holding on to hope.”

“I guess that’s all any of us can do now, isn’t it?”

“I think so.” She cleared her throat and took a step back from the bed, turning to Jeff. “I have other patients to round on, but I’ll be back to check up on everything in a couple of hours. If you guys need anything, just let one of the nurses know.”

“Thank you.”

Silence fell through the room as the doctor left. Jeff took the chair in the corner, letting Eddie have whatever time he needed. He was mostly there for Eddie’s sake; someone had to make sure he would be okay until Wayne got there. Truthfully, they were all out of their depths here. No one really understood what was happening in Eddie’s brain. Not even close to the way Wayne would.

They sat there in total silence for a long time. It's unclear to Eddie just how long, but long enough that Jeff had gotten up four times. Once to get food, once for the bathroom, and twice to hit vending machines and coffee. Not that Eddie accepted anything Jeff offered him. His body still felt wildly disconnected from his brain. His limbs were heavy. He also knows it's been long enough that nurses have come in to check on Steve eight times, and his doctor has been back once. It seems the only thing Eddie’s mind can keep track of is how many times someone has entered or exited Steve’s room in the ICU.

Jeff gets up for a fifth time. Another bathroom break, from the few words Eddie managed to retain. The door slid shut behind him, and Eddie was alone again. He squeezed Steve’s hand three times, desperate for any sign that he's still there. That he's fighting for Eddie. Nothing happens. The machines beep. His chest rises and falls rhythmically with the calculated breaths of the ventilator. Steve’s eyes shift beneath his eyelids, but they don't open. They won't open. The door slid open again, and Eddie assumed Jeff was back, though it seemed like he wasn't gone very long. And then he hears it.

“Oh, God.”

Eddie’s head shot up at the sound of Robin’s shaky voice behind him. She looked wrecked. Her face was blotchy, her eyes puffy and red. There were tear tracks down her cheeks. Wayne was standing beside her, looking somber. He watched her take a rattled breath, crossing the room slowly. Her eyes don't leave Steve. Wayne followed a few moments later, coming to stand behind Eddie and put a hand on his shoulder. Eddie wanted to break. As if he hadn't been slowly breaking this whole time.

“They- they said it was an overdose?” Robin asked softly, her voice cracking at the end. Eddie merely nodded, still trying to find his voice. “What- what happened, Eddie? Was it- was he drugged? How- how did this- did he relapse?”

“Relapse?” Eddie croaked, his voice hoarse from disuse. That didn't make any sense. For Steve to relapse, he would have to be…. “He- he was clean?”

Robin frowned, and her gaze finally found Eddie. “What do you mean he was clean? He's been clean since ‘85, Eddie. I- I helped him, after Starcourt.”

All the air left Eddie’s lungs in an instant. This was all his fault. Steve was- he was clean. Sober. And Eddie ruined that. He gave Steve weed. He brought him on tour. He took him to parties full of temptation. He killed Steve.

“This is all my fault,” he whispered.

“Eddie, you have to tell me what's going on,” Robin begged. “When did he relapse? Why didn't he call me? He promised he would talk to me if he wanted to get high again.”

“I- Oh, God. I didn't know. He- he didn't tell me.” Eddie couldn't breathe. His heart squeezed in his chest, and his lungs pushed the air from his body until there was nothing left. No matter how much he tried, he couldn't get it back. He was already hyperventilating. “This is all my fault. Oh my god, it's all my fault.” He was distantly aware of the tears rolling down his cheeks again.

Wayne stepped between Eddie and Robin, crouching down to look up into his nephew's face. His hands were solid against Eddie’s skin, just like they always were. “Ed, you need to talk to me. Take a breath, kid. I'm right here, but you have to tell me what's going on.”

Eddie’s breath stuttered halfway through his chest. “I didn't know, Wayne.”

“What didn't you know, Eddie?”

“I didn't- I didn't know he was sober. I- I thought I- I was just trying to help. I- I gave him weed. I did this.”

Robin’s expression hardened. “You did this to him?”

“I'm so sorry,” Eddie choked out between sobs. “I didn't- I didn't know. I was just trying to help. And- and then he- I knew he wasn't telling me something, but- but he promised it was just weed.”

“Get out.” Robin’s voice was firm, but he could hear the trembling fear behind it.

“What? I-”

“Get out. Get out, right now. You did this, Eddie. He was doing so good until he met you! And now he's dying! So get the hell out, before I make you!"

It was at this moment that the door opened for Jeff’s return. He paused just inside the doorway. Wayne stood up, facing Robin.

“Now, Robin, I think-”

“I don't care!” Robin’s hands were shaking. “This is his fault! I want him out, right now! Or I swear to God, Wayne, I'm going to kill him.”

Wayne glanced back at Jeff, who was the perfect picture of confusion. “Jeff, take Eddie into the hall.”

“What-”

“Don't ask questions right now,” Wayne said sternly with a shake of his head. “Just take him to the hall. I'll be out in a moment.”

As soon as the door shut behind them, and Jeff had led Eddie a little ways from the room, he finally snapped. His knees gave out from underneath him, and Jeff was the only thing holding him up as he sobbed.

This was all his fault. He killed Steve.

First his mom, now the love of his life. It was all his fault.

-----

taglist: @mugloversonly @djohawke @acowardinmordor @hallucinatedjosten @geekyfifi @slowandsteddie @estrellami-1 @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @canmargesimpson @captainoliimar @ilikeititspretty

[dave2olkat]

No alarms and no surprises (get me out of here) No alarms and no surprises, please

Thinking about Loop 15...

[awkwardwhims]

Whimsy Legacy Expanded - Ali's Backstory

TRIGGER WARNING: Ali's backstory is a series of flashbacks which involve some triggering topics such as teen pregnancy, drug use, sexual abuse/acts, death, etc. Please don't read if you think these topics may be triggering to you. I tried my best to keep the scenes modest; but the scenes are obvious with what happens.

Transcript "My shitstorm of a life really started when I was 5. I found her on the couch, an empty pill bottle on the floor. I really only remember screaming while a cop took me out of the house…"

[why-i-love-comics]

John Constantine, Hellblazer: Dead in America #5 - "One-Way Ticket" (2024)

written by Aaron Campbell art by John Pearson

[oldworldwidgets]

TEDDY TIME TEDDY TIME

howdy pardners this is theodore dawson, my courier from new vegas :3 he is very large and very angry yet very soft and very gay and he is so precious to me

here's his playlist!! once again it's chronological so u can listen to his story like a fun yeehaw jukebox musical. i think his is my favorite of all my character playlists

alllll the teddy stuff (appearance, stats, story before the canon events of the game, fun facts) can be found under the cut!!! if you feel so inclined to read The Long Version written like a story where my longwinded ass spends about 7k words talking about themes and character motivations (and some soft gay longing perhaps), it's up on ao3 here.

appearance

41 years old; birthday may 3, 2240

6’6 with broad shoulders, generally built like a securitron.

patches of vitiligo splash across his face, chest, and arms

bennys bullet hit the right side of his face, carving a path from his eye to his ear, where a chunk of his ear is missing

because of this, he's blind in his right eye. the blind eye (a light, milky blue) is always a bit more closed than the seeing one (a dark, warm brown)

dark auburn chin-length hair and a short beard, both peppered with white because of his age and vitiligo. a big chunk of hair behind his ear is white as it grows from the scar.

he wears a horse or cow-skin vest with a great khans patch on the back

signature black cowboy hat, either on the top of his head or tied around his neck so it hangs down his back

gold jewelry - dangly cross earring in his left ear, upside down cross on a leather strap around his neck, big ass belt buckle

bright red shotgun shells on leather belt slung around his waist for his shotgun, dinner dell

stats

SPECIAL: 8, 1, 4, 5, 9, 2, 10

favorite perks: confirmed bachelor, animal friend, ferocious loyalty, intimidating presence

story

his dad was raised in utah and was very strictly mormon. when new jerusalem collapsed, dad moved himself, his wife, and his first son to the mojave and found work on an NCR sharecropper farm.

teddy was born fifth of six kids: four older brothers and one younger sister. he, his sister hannah, and his brother noah all have very visible vitiligo.

the kids were all also raised strictly mormon. his whole childhood, they were very poor. "at least we have each other" poor. his dad blamed it on the NCR, who owned the house and land and animals they ranched. they owned nothing, and the NCR paid them little more than that. teddy was quickly disillusioned with the NCR, then with the three of his brothers who decided to join them. one brother stayed back to inherit the ranch.

turns out, the NCR was paying; dad was just gambling it all away. he was so deeply in debt to all the families on the strip that they all decided to cut their losses and burn his farm to the ground.

that's... that's the story teddy decided to tell hannah, anyway (he wouldnt tell u this but he totally burnt that shit down on purpose). mom, dad, and one of his brothers were lost in the fire. teddy and hannah made it out, waved goodbye, parted ways.

teddy took his horse, old red, and began running jobs for whoever needed them. he never tied himself to one organization aaand his jobs weren't always above the ethical board. really, it was luck of the draw that, on any given day, he was the one defending the caravan instead of stealing from it

when he eventually went searching for his siblings, he found that two of the three brothers that had enlisted, predictably, were killed on duty. noah, though, had absconded almost immediately upon arrival due to a nasty chem habit

he found hannah "working" in front of gomorrah on the stip - her vitiligo made them instantly recognizable to each other - but she pretended not to know him because she was ashamed. he understood and gave up, but not before she hinted that he could find noah at the old mormon fort

he did, in fact, find noah there, medically detoxing under the care of some hot, blonde doctor (bweheheh....). they reconnected and it was..... really nice, even when they talked about how ashamed their dad would be if he could see them. it didnt matter. the family disappointments were the only family survivors.

teddy and arcade quickly grew very fond of each other, with arcade even being the first one to call him "teddy" after he told the doctor his name was theodore. he decided, despite its cutesy nature, to keep it.

after finishing his open jobs, teddy decided to stay with noah at the fort and run jobs for the followers when they needed it. he got reeeal comfy with arcade, and their subtle, playful flirtations eventually became noticeable to others. his brother, angry and sick from chem withdrawal and still fighting his religious upbringing, could not handle finding out that his baby brother was gay. when he did, he angrily shouted slurs and threw bottles at them until he was sedated and returned to bed.

teddy left the fort that night while everyone but the night watchman slept. he struggled to recover from what happened and drifted listlessly for a while... until he heard the news that noah had fled from his "rehab" program in the fort the day after teddy left, overdosed, and died.

the news spurred something in him, and he went looking for a real family and place to call home. after excelling in his initiation trials, he found one with the great khans. for two years, he was their resident rancher, runner, therapist, you name it.

then: 2278. the bitter springs massacre. teddy was away when it happened, and he still hasnt forgiven himself for it.

he spent the next three years drifting - again. hunting NCR. somehow racking up bounties in seemingly every single tribe in the mojave. his infamy, believe it or not, helped him survive: when he came across those who would kill him or turn him in, they seemed to prioritize who got to turn him in and collect the bounty over keeping themselves alive. whoops!

it was exhausting, though. drifting, killing, taking on the wasteland completely alone (except his beloved animals) took a heavy toll on teddy. he'd always been a killer and an outlaw, but he'd always been paid to clear other people's consciences. now, he felt he was only killing people to run from the consequences of his own actions. it was exhausting.

so, when three strangers – one in a loud, black-and-white checkered blazer – tried to knock him out and bind his hands, well… he had no reason not to let them.

*aint that a kick in the head starts blaring*

fun facts

hes not a big chem guy but hes such an alcoholic. in game he keeps at least 10 whiskeys on him at all times but would prefer to drink a sarsaparilla over using a stimpak.

he needs glasses pretty badly for his one seeing eye but he’s too stubborn to wear them

his scars always look a bit irritated because he doesnt take care of himself

he was a big pistol guy before benny shot him, but after he went blind in his aiming eye and started suffering from bouts of dizziness, he became a shotgunner. they require a far-from-perfect style of aiming