#Where the fuck is the emergency dentist?

[sleeperagentclone]

I don't wanna get crowns :(

[miraclewoozi]

VERSACE ON THE FLOOR. -l.jh

ooh, i love that dress but you won’t need it anymore –

Or, the time you and your homebody boyfriend* decide to just… not go to your dinner plans.

pairing; lee jihoon x fem reader. content; fluff, suggestive (MINORS DNI). established relationship. warnings; relatively warning free (y'all i didn't even swear???) but just in case -- a couple of dorky jokes, reader wears a dress, makeup and heels, making out, undressing. let me know if i've forgotten anything. w/c; 2.4k (apparently i am in my shorter fic era? party.) note; if there's one thing i'm gonna do, no matter what day of the week it is, it's be disgustingly delusional about jihoon. get ur dentists on speedial, it's a tooth rotter (/j). note 2.0; i've had this one in the drafts for so long i had forgotten all about it! but then VOTF came on shuffle a few days ago (and i started thinking about light a flame woozi at the same time, which nearly fucking killed me), so. here we are. enjoy.<3

You don’t go out for dates very often. Not anymore, at least.

When you and Jihoon first got together, he took you out all the time. For dinners, to cocktail bars, to the movies, for walks down the beach, picnics by the river. It didn’t matter where you went as long as it put a smile on your face — all he ever wanted to do was make you feel special. No expense has ever been too great for his favourite girl, after all; he’s always loved to spoil you.

Now several years into your relationship, you’re a real pair of homebodies. Sure, he could take you out for a four course dinner at an expensive restaurant in the middle of the city, or reserve a table at a pretentious cocktail bar that plays slightly too loud music that’s always just to the left of either of your tastes. Then again… He could cook a nice meal for you to have at the apartment you share, where you can make your way through a bottle of bubbles without one of you needing to stay sober to drive home or else risk your lives in a sketchy cab. 

It’s something you’ve talked about several times, and on every occasion, it’s quite apparent that you’re both very happy with the way things are. If anything, it makes it all the more special when he tells you he needs you to keep your weekend free because he’s making plans, and he wants to whisk you away.

Like now, for instance. The hotel suite he’s booked is gorgeous and you’re perched on the edge of the plush bedding, bent over double so that you can properly fasten your shoes while he finishes getting ready in the bathroom. Now and again, you hear a grumble or a click of his tongue float through the ajar door; every time, you feel a smile play at your lips as you shake your head. He never changes. (You’re so glad.)

“Jihoon,” you call to him softly. You can practically see how he’ll be standing – facing the mirror, on his tiptoes to lean over the bathroom counter and get as close to his own reflection as he possibly can. Pouting as his fingers drag through his hair to try and fix the strands in place just a tiny bit better. “Don’t you dare come out here looking like Sonic the Hedgehog. You know the more you play with it, the more annoyed you’re going to get.”

A few seconds later, he emerges, an eyebrow raised in challenge, an amused grin tugging his lips out of their habitual frown. 

(And lo and behold — his hair looks absolutely fine.)

But the second he sees you, whatever witty comeback he was obviously very proud of dies on his lips, and you straighten up with only one of your shoes secured to your foot, the other just slipped on over your toes.

“Wow,” he says, in that soft, deep, quiet way that he does when you’ve really taken his breath away. You watch his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallows; you see his brow crinkle and his eyes widen, as if he’s trying to see as much of you as he possibly can. “Is that…?”

“Yeah,” you nod proudly, sitting back and smoothing your hands over the dress you’re wearing. “From our first anniversary.”

As his eyes move over you, taking in everything from the way the straps sit on your shoulders to the way the hem lays across your thigh, your own eyes move over him. The top three buttons of his shirt are still unfastened and his tie hangs either side, tucked beneath his collar but not knotted yet. His slacks have been cleanly pressed, a neat, crisp seam running down the front of both legs. Shoes shined to perfection. Expensive watch strapped around his wrist. 

He might just be the most handsome man in the entire world.

“I remember you saying you really liked it, so… I dug it out, special.” 

“You look incredible,” he says. It’s so gentle, so sincere, that you think your heart is about to burst clean out of your chest. Warmth trickles the length of your spine, and it isn’t exactly helped when you realise – only now as he starts to cross the room to get closer to you – that he hadn’t moved an inch since he surfaced from the bathroom almost a full ninety seconds ago.

He shrinks down so he’s rested on both of his knees in front of you, skilful hands moving to help with the shoe you hadn’t managed to lace up yet. every time his fingertips so much as brush against your skin, the electricity in his gentle touches shoots all the way from the point of contact up to your brain and leaves it fogged, impossible to make any sense through the thick clouds of intimacy and adoration. More-so as he smoothly lifts your leg a little and presses his lips once to the inside of your ankle, even foggier still as he trails kisses up the length of your calf towards your knee. 

“Jihoon,” you laugh breathlessly, laying a hand on his shoulder as you feel his tongue press lightly against your skin. He finally sits back on his heels, running his fingers up and down the backs of your legs; he’s successfully managed to hike your dress up a few inches now, too, and he keeps flitting his gaze between your face and your thighs. “We can’t – we’ll be late.”

“We have ages,” he frowns, shuffling closer and trying to bump your knees apart, but you keep your muscles engaged and he doesn’t pull at them that hard, so they don’t budge.

“We have to get there, too,” you remind him. He throws his head back and sighs dramatically. The neckline of his dress shirt seems to open a little more when he looks back at you, drawing your attention down the length of his neck to his bulging chest, and the muscular forearms that he crosses in front of it.

“And this is why we don’t go out.”

“What, because you’re horny all the damn time?” You tease. 

He gently swats at the top of your thigh before soothing it with another small kiss. 

“Because when you look this good, how am I supposed to want to go and eat a steak instead?” 

He grins up at you from the floor, quite clearly delighted with himself for his little gag. You, however, flop back onto the mattress and cover your face with your hands.

“That was so bad,” you chuckle. You’ve been trying for years to not melt to his very specific sense of humour, but it’s all been completely futile. Your reluctant laughs turn to sweet, breathy giggles by the time he lays both his arms across your legs and rests his chin on top of them. You prop yourself up on one elbow to look at him; he’s staring up at your face like he thinks he’ll never see anything as beautiful as you for the rest of his life. 

“Maybe… We don’t have to go out for dinner,” he suggests. “Maybe we can stay in tonight, too.”

“Horndog.” You tsk. But you’re not disappointed at the idea of staying in, either, regardless of whether your teasing implies otherwise. “I knew you’d say that.”

“No — really,” he swallows. You aren’t sure if you can feel his heart beating a little faster where his chest is pressed completely against your shins, or if you’re just imagining it. But the tips of his ears are going pink too, so you think it’s safe to trust your intuition on this one. “I mean-… we don’t have to go. I could-…”

He bites the inside of his cheek before he looks down, pressing his forehead against his arms and hiding his face completely.

“I could do it here.”

He says these words quietly. Mumbles them, really. You aren’t sure if you were meant to hear, or if he was just talking to himself. But either way, it has to be worth a shot to find out.

“What do you mean, Ji?”

One, two, three seconds pass. And… Nothing. 

“Hey.”

You bounce your thighs a little so he’s forced to look up at you, and you can see something swimming in his eyes. Something brewing. He sits back from you and pushes a hand through his hair; a few strands lose their stick to the rest of the main body and tumble down over his forehead. Exactly in the way he was trying to prevent. 

“I could just do it here.”

He says this louder. Clearer. With much more finality. You sit up properly, then, both your hands clasped together in your lap. 

“Do what here, baby?”

His eyes find yours and you sit there for a few moments, unwrapping each other's minds with nothing more than a look and a matching pair of gentle — but slightly concerned — smiles. 

He moves one hand down and slips it into the back left pocket of his slacks. You think you can feel the world around you start to slow. 

When he shifts a leg from beneath him so he’s on one knee before you and presents you with a glittering diamond ring, it stops altogether. 

“Jihoon,” you breathe. 

He glances between the ring and you, biting his bottom lip before he speaks. 

“I had it-… I had everything planned.” He laughs, looking away from your face as even more rising heat becomes evident on his own. “Down to the second, even. But just like you always do — just like the first time I saw you, and just like every time since… You threw me a curve ball and… Somehow, you’ve changed everything. But you made it so much better. 

“I think I was supposed to find you, y/n,” Jihoon says. “I don't know what’s up there, what’s in charge of when we meet the people we meet and why we fall in love with the people we fall in love with. but I know that they were really looking out for me the day you came into my life.” 

You can feel your eyes starting to sting at the corners and you will the tears away, desperate not to smudge the makeup you spent so long trying to perfect. You know he’d love you either way — mascara tear tracks and splotchy concealer and all — but… 

“I am so in love with you that sometimes, it really hurts. It hurts because I know that no one’s ever going to come close — about anyone in the world — to feeling the way I feel about you. I feel bad for everyone, a bit. Because you’re not-… you're not with them. You’re with me. But I wouldn’t want any of them to be with you, because-... and… and if you’ll have me, I want you to be with me forever.”

You don't know when you started slowly nodding along to his little monologue, but you definitely are. You’re not sure when you started holding your breath either, but that’s two for two. He looks up at you, expectantly, fluttering his eyelashes and stuttering out a long, deep breath. 

“Y/n, will you marry me?”

Some decisions, you’ve always thought, are made for you at a cosmic level. Your favourite colours. Your favourite foods. Hot and cold weather people. Loving or hating marmite. A predisposition to enjoying scary movies or being the kind of person who hides behind a pillow. 

This is another one of those. You don’t have to think twice about it — you just know. You know because a great unstoppable force managed to squeeze you together at the perfect moment in time; the ever-expanding universe around you has kept you and Jihoon side by side through everything it could possibly throw at you. 

“Yes.”

Of course you want to spend your forever with him. 

The word leaves your mouth in a whisper and everything flies back into motion. The first black droplet rolls down your cheek. His usually so steady hands fumble with yours to slide the ring over your finger. A perfect fit. You’re hurtling through space and time as he gets up off his knees and cups your cheeks, gently pulling you upright and crashing his lips against yours. You stumble into him slightly in your heels; his kiss is more a chaotic clatter of teeth and giddy laughter than perhaps the intense, romantic gesture he was aiming for, but it’s completely, utterly, unequivocally perfect.

Jihoon’s fancy dress shirt creases under your fingers as you ball it into your fists where the top buttons are spread open, pulling him as close as you can, laughter dying down as he loses himself in you and as you lose yourself in him, right back. He swallows all of your gasps and sighs, hands sliding down from your face to the sides of your neck, until he’s resting a palm on each of your shoulders. A single finger slips beneath one of the straps and he pulls it out of the way, down onto your arm, withdrawing from your mouth so that he can press a series of kisses down your cheek and to your jaw instead.

“Ji,” you murmur, tipping your head back and fumbling at the buttons running the length of his torso, trying and failing to get them open. He chuckles, his other hand coming to rest over yours to stop you. You lace your fingers together, feeling him squeeze. Your heart pounds.

“Let's take our time,” he whispers to you, thumb grazing over your collarbone. “Okay?”

All you can do is nod as he kisses lower, and lower, pressing his lips everywhere he can while he’s still standing. Your neck and shoulders feel ablaze, tickling with the heat of the burning stars his mouth paints across your skin. 

“Need-... Ji, you need to-... call… call the restaurant,” you stutter. “Gotta…. we need to cancel…”

The fleeting sting of his teeth against your throat interrupts you and you’re only aware of him reaching behind you to tug the zipper of your dress down when the material falls completely slack..

“In a minute,” he says, helping you walk backwards until your calves collide with the bed behind you once again. He eases you to lie down on the comforter and crawls on top of you, caging you in with both arms, taking hold of your left hand again.

He looks down at the ring on your finger, his entire face breaking into the most brilliant of smiles. Every inch, from the creases at the corners of his eyes to the paling stretch of his beautiful lips. 

“My future wife needs taking care of, first.”

– no you won’t need it no more, let’s just kiss ‘til we’re naked, baby.

hehe thank u sm for reading!! i hope you enjoyed this bc it was a bit special 2 me. likes, reblogs, comments + feedback are all, as always, greatly appreciated.<3

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

pt IV doctor who but i've never watched it but i know loads about it for sure

It's half past 4 am and I definitely remember everything that you maggots yelled at me about this show I definitely do

There is a slutty head preserved in a jar that had many babies

There is a Doctor who was an OG doctor and his name was Wren or something no WILF RIGHT YES SOMEONE SAID THE DILF THE MILF AND THE HOLY WILF

Michael Sheen is a sexy planet with a mouth

Neil Gaiman wrote some episodes and it was very cool I think he made Michael Sheen the sexy planet

David Tennant I know you all love David Tennant well FUCKING HERE THEN TUMBLR DAVID TENNANT

There are time lords and they are the doctor and everyone was very cross when I asked that because apparently y'all periodically forget you follow me because im dumb

It's like gay or something at some point

Andrew Garfield is a dentist who gets flirted with like you too babygirl or whatever the 10th doctor says

Oh yeah the doctors are the doctor but there are 14 of them and they all go poof and then boom new actor except for 14 where david tennant re-emerges YEAH TUMBLR HEAR THAT I SAID DAVID TENNANT

oh and THEN the fifteenth doctor arrives but he fucking girlbosses a bigeneration and so escapes trauma or something and you all get to keep david tennant YEAH I SAID HIS NAME IF THIS HELLSITE HAD AN ALGORITHM THIS POST WOULD BE TRENDING SO QUICK ISTG

Oh the TARDIS is blue and not fucking yellow sometimes my brain gaslights me and also it can be anything it is a tree but it is a police box because it wants to be due to a glitch that the doctor hasnt fixed coz hes too busy hanging out with donna or being gay or being trans which as I know from experience are both full-time occupations

Theres like an intro or something it goes DOOWEEDOOOO and when i mentioned it people started singing it in the reblogs so like nostaglia hit ig

DAAAAAAAAAAVID TENNANT YOU HERE ME TUMBLR COME AND GET YOUR DAVID TENNANT HE FOUND HIS WIFE HERE YES HE DID HIS FATHER-IN-LAW WAS A DOCTOR YES HE WAS HIS DAUGHTER WAS THE DOCTOR'S DAUGHTER BUT THEN DAVID'S WIFE SO IDK GO SLAY GEORGIA

10th doctor is kinda bitchboy and we love him for that apparently

12th doctor is girlbossing prideful or maybe it was 11th or 9th WHO'S THE ONE WHO CALLS THE POTATO A POTATO

There are rhinos and they're police they're called Zookas and they transform people into something for their sins

I think it was the rhinos but someone looks like gollum had sex with a dead horse and got impregnated

There's a potato dude (gn)

There's a Meep and Meep's pronouns are Meep which is fab

There's a dude named Harry in the original doctor who

Shitty effects are beloved here

Someone installed a ramp on the tardis

there is someone named rose and the 9th doctor did something with a timeline and lost her to another 9th doctor and everyone's sad about it coz he knew he couldnt give her the life or something

Rose is kissy smoochie with doctor

Donna noble is played by catherine tate who knows less about the show than i do (which isnt saying much clearly im an expert)

The doctor is not actually a doctor it's something about yelling DOCTOR and they say DOCTOR WHO and it's like FUCK YEAH BABA GRIL NAMEDROP

Is this show title a knock knock joke like Knock knock. Who's there? Doctor. Doctor who? Yes now let me in.

one last time for you sluts DAVID TENNNANTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

you're welcome.

[quill-of-thoth]

It's apparently Little Shop of Horrors day, so let me tell you all about the time I was house manager for the worst musical of, if not all time, the 20zeroes.

I was a theater kid in a school that did NOT do musicals. For crosstown rivalry reasons and a bunch of other stuff. The other high school did musicals so all you choir divas go try out over there. Also casting at my high school was highly correlated with seniority, AKA you were more likely to get speaking parts as an upperclassman, assuming you had been in any play before.

However, my junior year we got a new drama teacher, and therefore a budget, and therefore a spate of more musicals and small cast plays to perform. I got cast in zero things because my acting was pretty mid and my ability to sing is... not. However I was both one of the few non-graduating upperclassmen and The Responsible One and my presence building set / herding freshman / going off book early resulted in fewer stitches, so I got to be house manager. In high school theater, house manager shows up at call to help with things, then opens the ticket booth, answers questions on the walkie, and is the person fourteen year old ushers come to when somebody's mom needs to be sent to the special hell for people who talk on their cell phones in the theater. We did our very first school musical in like a decade, Little Shop of Horrors, in january.

If the Gifs have not clued you in, Little Shop of Horrors is the story of a florist's assistant who mistakes a man eating alien for a talking plant and decides to feed his crush's abusive boyfriend to it. This is not a weird plot for musicals, BUT it requires some prep work. 1) The Chorus tells a lot of the story, so in order to Give Everyone A Chance and to keep everyone's barely trained vocal chords in good shape, we double casted the chorus. Meaning that on nights where they weren't singing, they were supposed to usher, because we never had enough ushers and there were too many of them for all of them to fulfil their crew obligations building set.

2) There are three chorus leads. Some performances have them be the whole chorus but our director had ambitions, so we had three chorus leads and like ten background chorus members per chorus. Performing alternating nights. In the same set of matching RENTED costumes. (Background chorus wore their choir performance duds I think.) 3) Audrey 2, the "plant" is a puppet of some description, large enough to eat a successful dentist. Meaning that somebody has to be mic'd up to voice him, and somebody ELSE has to make him move. And you have to get him on and off stage, or configure the stage in such a way that he can be covered up. Ours rolled. I had only occasionally been on set crew for Little Shop, and most of the chorus hadn't been at all because of their choir schedules, so I rolled up opening night at half past call expecting an hour of running errands for people and an easy house opening. The Stage Manager handed me my walkie and said "I already hate this," which was just her personality regarding opening nights but which should have been a warning. I was quickly informed that The Chorus was being kept in the empty choir room upstairs of the stage because there were too many of them to stay in the dressing rooms, so there was going to be a LOT of walkie chatter about cues. We also had to shuffle in a dude from light crew to drop the show's only F-bomb, because the freshman voicing Audrey 2 hadn't known it existed when he tried out and was now in a tizzy because his Very Religious Grandma was coming. So I had to keep an aisle clear up in the nosebleeds so a crew guy could sneak in the dark from the spotlights to the sound booth to delightedly yell Fuck into the microphone. "We never get people in the nosebleeds anyway," I told Stage Manager, who shrugged unhappily. "Chorus of twenty. Choir kids. Musical."

Spotlight guy, passing by, said something like "I can handle it."

I did some emergency stitching on somebody's loose costume button, sorted out some props, ran around blocking off or opening doors, and then opened the house. With ONE usher because the Chorus Ushers were late. "Isn't their call time twenty to opening?" I asked the one reliable usher, who was build crew only, and he shrugged. I told him to put people as far to the front as he could, no exceptions, and not to use the stage left nosebleeds, and continued taking tickets and cash. We already had a crowd when the Chorus Ushers arrived - Late, not appropriately dressed, or telling me that they had to leave before the show was over because their parents did not want to pick them up any later than that time. I volunteered to tell their parents that having a kid in a show was a commitment that included days that they were not performing and that we had several reliable upperclassmen running carpool if they had emergencies. Only one of the ushers took me up on it, so I decided that we could close missing one usher since we had more than usual anyway, and signed them all in. I walkied the Director that we had all the ushers we were gonna get and that they were late but we had it under control, which was the last time ANYTHING was under control that night. The first obvious problem was that the Chorus Ushers didn't seat anyone, which was literally their one job. They just... walked in and out of the theater following people? I had to leave Reliable at the cash box and demonstrate, then move people out of the one row reserved for ushers and the closed off nosebleed area. Someone, probably Spotlight, had cordoned it off with duct tape so I don't know why they even tried. Then I had to explain that you cannot save a whole row so that tall people do not come and block your view. And then somebody wanted a half off ticket because they intended to leave at intermission. And somebody else wanted to pay by credit card even though they'd had weeks of warning that we were not set up to do that. Add in people jockeying for seats and ushers sneaking off to hang with friends or family and by the time the lights went down I was composing some strongly worded advice to our director about training ushers and making sure that showing up to usher one night wasn't the whole price of being in the cast. Then, in the middle of the second song, a phone rang. "Hi Mom. No, the play has started. Yes I have a ride home. No, dad decided he wouldn't - It's fine -" "Excuse me, Ma'am," I hissed to the rapidly confiscated phone, tugging the usher towards the back doors by the hoodie, "Your daughter is working and we do not allow cell phones in the theater." "But -" "All calls must be taken IN THE HALLWAY (which we had reached by then) and your ringer is expected to be off." "And who are you?" "The Stage Manager," I said, like I was an actual responsible party, and hung up. "When you are done sorting this out, I expect neither you, nor your phone, to make a single sound for the rest of this play. Any upperclassman with an available car seat will give you a ride home if you need it." That made one freshie with the fear of House Manager put into them properly, hopefully it meant she'd behave in general. And walkie hell immediately broke loose. In the next, possibly forty minutes, by virtue of being the person who had already left the auditorium and was wearing normal clothes, I learned the following:

someone needed to run a repair kit up to the chorus holding room

Because Second Night Choral Lead (on props duty) and Opening Night Choral lead had gotten into a slapfight about discovering that they shared the costume

consisting of shoving and shouting that one of them would ruin it for the other because she was "too fat" for a one size fits all wrap dress

And inevitably torn it

Stage Manager could not handle this

Because she'd gone up to Choral Holding Area to tell everybody else in the chorus to shut the fuck up because they could be heard ON STAGE

And the Choir Divas had decided to lock her in a closet

so somebody allowed to have building keys (director) had to come and let her out and put the fear of god into them

So someone ELSE who knew blocking had to move to cues position

Because The Dude in The Plant was relying on that

So I had to go help cover for whatever they should be doing that didn't involve knowing the script

And somebody else had to go whipstitch Opening Night Choral Lead back into her damn dress before their next cue

Also The Dude In The Plant was concerned because the rolling portion of the stage felt kinda wrong? The part he was on? Inside the plant puppet?

The director needed a List Of People Whose Parents Were Going To Be Called after the play because we do not lock people into storage closets

And don't think he won't ALSO tell on you to the choir director who will have you out of SO MANY performances for this behavior.

Audrey the Human just tripped over something that shouldn't be backstage because Choral Lead two is being read the riot act instead of doing props

WHOEVER IS RUBBING FABRIC ON THEIR MIC OVER THE WALKIES NEEDS TO TURN IT OFF

Sorry the micbox is right next to the dress tear

The Dude in Audrey the Plant just felt something move that should not

The Dude Voicing Audrey the Plant informs me that one of my ushers has left and also left the door to the auditorium wide open

Surprisingly it is not little miss phone call

Anyway he's trapped in the sound booth waiting for his cue and Reliable Usher doesn't have a walkie

Chorus is back on stage, the riot act is in intermission, Background Chorus Choir Divas have declared that if they are removed from the Chorus for being loud assholes and derailing the whole cast and crew they won't usher and then where will we be?

GREAT! I DON'T WANT THEM!

Choral Lead Two is crying in the boys dressing room instead of running props because nobody's currently using the boys dressing room

Because Choral Lead One will be standing around in a spare sheet in the girls' dressing room while we fix her dress during intermission.

Dude in the Plant says, very quietly, "fuck"

As the combined weight of chorus and cast and plant muppet and dude in the plant and choreography breaks one of the casters on the set

Which fortunately only falls like a quarter inch so everyone stumbles and nobody is hurt

"Should I help?" No, Dude Voicing The Plant, STAY WHERE YOU ARE YOU ARE THE ONLY THING ABOUT THIS THAT'S GOING WELL

Chorus and Crew and Everyone except me (because I'm hunting for a MIA usher) is trying to deal with that rolling bit of set under the cover of SON BE A DEEEEENTIST, YOU'LL BE A SUCCESS!

Congrats my missing usher has not been teen-napped. She saw me putting the fear of god and of me into her castmate about cell phones and has stepped outside the entire building to I Do Not Care What But This Conversation can Wait we LEGALLY have to know where you are

Hey who is the fastest / most invisible sewer we have? Because this dress is messed up worse than we thought. We need them for all of intermission

Me, possibly, except I am working intermission?

Can you come at call tomorrow and fix it? We have safety pins

Sure

Why are there no safety pins in the safety pins box

I dunno why don't you ask the kid who was literally making a safety pin necklace last time I was at set build

Who?

IDK they're new probably

Rolling stage has been fixed! Well. Assuming we don't want it to move.

"Am I safe to eat the guy?" Yes, Dude In The Plant, chow down on our dentist, the set will hold.

Intermission.

THANK FUCK

A twenty five minute intermission is totally normal, Sirs and Ma'ams. Please feel free to buy cold stale football field popcorn.

Phonecall usher "Uh. So My dad. Decided he wasn't going to come pick me up at intermission."

I gave her the name of the senior with a car that I thought would be feeling least murderous, because I am not a complete monster.

No, sir, you cannot show up for the second half of a play and expect a half priced ticket. It is five. Goddamn. Dollars. Anyway somehow the worst thing that happened on second night was Dude Voicing the Plant deciding that he was actually brave and secular enough to do the swears so we got TWO people saying fuck directly into the microphone. He still passed on Tough Titties though.

[the-rad-pineapple]

teeth

prompt from bitchassboi on r/HannibalFanfiction: "will is a dentist and hannibal goes in for his regular cleaning. hannibal, being annoying, leaves some human flesh or hair in between his teeth and ofc will notices"

ao3

words: 1k

One of his patients is a psychologist. Of course. Will can't escape psychoanalysis even at work. His patient—Dr. Hannibal Lecter—also used to be a surgeon. His past medical background allows him to get along with Will's staff quite well. It doesn't help that he's handsome. Like, handsome handsome. Rich and European with a beautiful lilting accent. His face looks like it's sculpted from marble. Regal and unmoving. He's charming and well-educated and loves the arts. He's fucking perfect. It bothers Will for some reason, so he rarely says more to Hannibal outside of a customary greeting and questions about his teeth.

Hannibal has sharp teeth. Predator's teeth. Dangerous teeth. It always sends some sort of sick thrill up Will's spine to put his fingers in Hannibal's mouth as if the predator belonging to those teeth will suddenly emerge from behind the gelled hair and pretty suits and snap at Will's fingers. But that never happens. It shouldn't be disappointing.

Will supposes Hannibal's teeth may be the only imperfect part of him. But Will doesn't think they're imperfect. Not really. Hannibal's teeth aren't completely straight, and Will had to fill in a chip last month. Will had asked what happened, but Hannibal simply blinked innocently and said he didn't know since he cooks most of his own food. Because of course he's an amazing cook, too. Bastard.

But there is something…else about Hannibal. Will catches glimpses of it in the flash of Hannibal's eyes when one of his assistants was a bit rude and in the perfectly neutral mask he wears most of the time. He's hiding something. He is something. Something he wears a person-suit to cover. And Will wants to see.

One of the dental hazards many people don't realize is when something becomes embedded in the gums or teeth so snugly that it becomes stuck. It's then prone to terrible infection if not treated promptly. Hannibal knows this—probably due to his medical background—and scheduled an appointment for this problem almost two weeks ago. Today is the day of his appointment, and he and Will have undergone their usual—yet slightly awkward—greeting when he arrived.

Hannibal is laying down on one of the reclined dentist chairs now as Will gently prods at his gums where the debris has been caught. It's between a couple of his back right molars. Will can't quite tell what it is despite the giant lamp hanging above them illuminating his work. With a pair of dental tweezers, Will delicately removes the debris. It's…stringy. It's…hair? Will pulls it out of Hannibal's mouth and into the light. It's a chunk of flesh attached to several long strands of hair. Human hair. This is human flesh. Hannibal bit someone so hard he ripped part of their scalp off. Holy shit.

How the hell did he even do this?

Will glances down to see Hannibal already watching him. Wordlessly, Will places the piece of flesh on the small pan beside them.

"Open," he commands.

Hannibal does.

Will closely and carefully inspects Hannibal's mouth, but the rest of Hannibal's teeth are clean and free of any more…debris.

Will follows it up with a standard cleaning he does himself. It's something the techs usually do, but Will's silently decided he'll be monitoring Hannibal closely today. And maybe probably forever. But no more flesh is upturned during the cleaning. And Will is…disappointed.

Will sets his tools down on the pan. The piece of flesh is still there. Will looks at it. It's a decent sized chunk. Hannibal must've bitten the person and then ripped through the flesh, tearing it off violently with untamed strength. Will bets there was blood. Oh, God. It was probably on Hannibal. It probably covered his lips and dribbled down his chin. His sharp teeth probably shone red with it. Jesus. That mental image…

This is a problem. Or it should be a problem, but Will finds himself more morbidly curious than disgusted or afraid. He should definitely be more afraid. Will tugs his gloves off and pulls his surgical mask down to his chin. He needs to say something to placate this. To show Hannibal he needn't harm Will. But…how exactly do you tell one of your patients you're okay with finding human flesh stuck in their teeth. When Will glances up, he realizes Hannibal has been staring. Shit. Fuck. He needs to say something. Now.

"Um."

"Will this be a problem?" Hannibal asks politely. Always politely.

Will shakes his head, suddenly mute.

"Are you afraid?" Hannibal asks.

Will should be. It would be normal to be afraid. Would it be worse if Will is honest and told Hannibal he isn't?

Will tears his eyes away from Hannibal's penetrating stare. He clears his throat. "Uh, yeah," he lies.

Will's eyes land back onto the piece of flesh. Where did the rest of the person go? Did Hannibal tear them apart completely? Or did he— The back molars is an odd spot for the flesh to be stuck in after being viciously torn through. It should've been stuck in the front teeth. Unless Hannibal had…

Will wonders what it tasted like. He licks his lips.

The dental chair creaks as Hannibal moves. Will looks over, and Hannibal is sitting up while still staring at him.

"You aren't afraid," Hannibal says.

Will swallows. "I think I should be," he admits quietly.

"What do you feel then?"

Curiosity.

Intrigue.

Excitement.

Instead of voicing any of that, Will scoffs and shakes his head instead as an ill-timed grin tugs his lips upward. "Are you psychoanalyzing me?"

Hannibal's eyes gleam in amusement. "Yes."

"Is that even real?" Will asks while nodding in the direction of the flesh. "Or are you fucking with me?"

"Can it not be both?"

Laughter bursts out of Will at Hannibal's unexpected honesty. He's still smiling when he replies, "I suppose it can."

"You didn't answer my question."

Will raises his eyebrows. "You mean you asking me how I feel after finding…that in your teeth?"

"Yes."

With a sudden and strange confidence that doesn't belong to him, Will answers, "Ask me to dinner first, and then I'll tell you."

Hannibal grins, revealing his sharp, glinting, perfect teeth. "May I have you over for dinner tonight?"

Will mirrors his grin. "Yes."

[mariaofdoranelle]

Where Do We Stand?

A oneshot inside the Look At Us Now AU

Written for Rowaelin Month day 6: Rowaelin

This happens around a year and a half before where the current story starts! I wrote it for this event so it can be read even if you don’t know the AU 🫶

Also I wrote half of this in bed on my phone because I’m having a labyrinthitis crisis please be nice to me and my fic with very little editing

Warnings: mild (?) smut, language, a destroyed house, a toddler (Maisie’s on FIRE)

Word count: 3,8k

In and out. In and out.

Sam’s face was scrunched up in concentration, holding Aelin’s hip as he rode her.

It was not the best sex she’d ever had, but it was some sex, which was better than nothing.

He was panting. “How do you like that, babe?”

“Oh… yes. So good,” Aelin praised. Her chest felt a little tight as she not lied, but emphasized her enthusiasm. Sam was trying, but sex with him was… well, it was vanilla.

He fucked her gently, choked her weirdly, had thin moans, and spanked her a little too softly. At least she came every time. Even if it wasn’t mind-blowing, it was still a win.

Sam stopped when Aelin’s phone started ringing.

She grabbed it from his nightstand with one swift motion and—

Rowan.

Sam ground his teeth together. “Are you going to take it?”

“It could be anything from a lost toy to a house fire,” she explained while swiping to answer the phone.

“Hey. Are you busy?”

She quickly glanced at Sam, phone tightly clutched to her ear. “Kinda.”

She could hear his sigh from the other side of the phone. “Lorcan’s busy, and Sellene’s out of town—”

“Spill, Rowan.”

When he hurriedly told her what happened, Aelin’s only reaction was to tell him she’d be there in a few and hang up the phone.

Sam didn’t protest, but he didn’t look happy either. Aelin winced when he pulled out. Gods, she didn’t even remember he was still inside her.

“Is she alright?”

“Not a house fire, thank Mala.”

“Are you sure you need to go?” He asked with a cautious, uncertain tone.

Aelin sighed. “She’s a toddler, Sam. I can be needed for a lot of things that aren’t life-threatening.”

He nodded. “I could go with you. Be an extra set of hands.”

She suppressed a grimace. “In the middle of a toddler crisis?”

“You told me it wasn’t an emergency.”

Aelin knew what he was tiptoeing around, and she didn’t have time for this conversation again. The one about taking the next step in their relationship and introducing him to Maisie.

Sam was a good guy. He was kind, and had a stable career as a heart doctor. Everyone at the hospital liked him—including pediatric patients.

Aelin didn’t know why she balked every time Sam asked to become official. 

It was the next step for them. And Aelin wanted to take it, but she wouldn’t do it until that weird feeling on her chest eased when she considered it. She wouldn’t introduce anyone into Maisie’s life until being completely certain of it.

“Are you coming back after?” He whispered on her ear, hands on her hips after they got dressed.

“I don’t know. Probably not,” Aelin said, and she meant it.

She gave him a quick kiss on the lips and hurried to Rowan’s place.

Earlier that day

It was a bit past 5 am when Rowan came to terms with the fact that Maisie would not fall asleep again.

His daughter’s last molar teeth were coming out, and he didn’t know if he felt more frustrated or relieved.

They were late, and Rowan didn’t know why. He searched online, talked about it with Aelin, took Maisie to the dentist, and the only answer we got was that he was supposed to wait.

Was it a vitamin thing? Lack of calcium? What would happen if she grew up without molar teeth? What if her teeth came out, but something was wrong with it? Couldn’t they check them with a X-ray? What if they wouldn’t come out until something else was fixed? Was this a sign of some bigger disease?

Rowan was almost losing his mind until Maisie’s gums got way too swollen to not be teething. He finally relaxed, getting this weight off his shoulders, until he remembered in the worst way the nightmare that teething was.

More specifically in her case, the irritability and sleepless nights that led to more irritability.

“I DON’T LIKE GIRLED CHEESE,” his daughter screamed at the top of her lungs, crying when he told her he’d make grilled cheese for breakfast.

Maisie loved grilled cheese.

Rowan returned the bread to its container and sighed.

“Cereal, then?”

“My tummy hurts.” She eyed him warily. “I need to go to the pool to feel better.”

Rowan forced the corners of his lips to not tug up. If Maisie sees him smile at this, she’d remember she has him wrapped around her little finger, and Rowan would lose his chance of bargaining with her.

“We can’t leave the house if you don’t eat breakfast, Mais.”

When his daughter’s lips started wobbling, Rowan knew he needed to think fast. He already had a headache from not sleeping, he’d do anything to avoid a tantrum now.

None of his offers worked, though. She trashed and screamed and cried, only stopping when he said he’d take her to the pool and buy her a popsicle there if she ate her breakfast.

After making Maisie’s grilled cheese and an unholy amount of coffee for himself, he called Lorcan.

“What,” his friend greeted, cheerful as ever.

“I’m taking Maisie to the pool. Wanna come with Charlie?”

Rowan and Lorcan weren’t the most talkative duo, but they hung out a lot because they were neighbors with kids around the same age. Well, they used to be friends before the kids too, but now it seemed like the only thing they talked about was potty training and tricks to minimize picky eating.

“Sorry man, we have a thing with Ellie’s parents. Next week?”

“Yeah, sure.”

He hung up the phone and made a mental note to pack more pool toys, since they were going alone this time.

“Daddy…”

Rowan turned to Maisie, rubbing his face to focus on her.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “I do like girled cheese.”

“That’s great, Mais.” He put a smile on, but it came out faint. Even the muscles on his face were feeling heavy.

The pool was actually a great idea. His goal was to get his daughter worked up so she’d feel tired enough to sleep the whole night through. He had no idea why he didn’t think of that before.

Rowan got the table closest to the children’s pool and bought her promised popsicle. She was eating it next to him when she saw a man with low stature pass by them, holding a girl’s hand.

“OH NO!” Maisie boomed and pointed, voice ringing. “That little girl only has a tiny little daddy!”

Rowan’s eyes widened, his blood rushing into his cheeks. Gods, he had no words for his daughter sometimes.

The man hurried his steps, not giving them a chance to apologize.

“Maisie Whitethorn,” he chastised, tone low and firm. “You cannot call other people tiny, you hear me?”

He regretted the way he’d said it the moment her eyes watered and she started weeping.

Rowan sighed, running a hand through his hair. He placed Maisie on his lap and hang his head low while he soothed her. He was so fucking tired. He didn’t mean to make her cry. Again.

Rowan stayed at the table when Maisie decided it was time to jump into the pool. Sellene once told him Aelin’s great at introducing herself to people so their daughter could make quick friends to play with, and watching Maisie play alone in the pool sent a pang through his chest.

Rowan wasn’t very sociable or charismatic, and he never missed those things either, except when it came to his daughter. Truth was, he didn’t even know how to do that. Should he introduce himself to the kids? That would be creepy. Ask the parents if his daughter could play? Better than the first option, but it sounded awkward.

Maisie seemed happy with the water toys, though. He’d do the awkward thing if she starts to look bored.

The head that rested on his hand began to feel a little too heavy, as much as his eyes. He could feel his eyelids closing, slowly—

Rowan jerked upright. What the fuck? He shouldn’t blink an eye while his daughter was surrounded by strangers like this.

He got up, splashed a handful of water from the pool on his face, and tried to keep himself awake by reading a book about potty training he bought yesterday. The worst part had gone by, but Maisie still struggled—

“DADDY!” His daughter called him, grinning.

Rowan smiled back. It was good to see his daughter this happy after the morning they had.

“What, Mais?”

She giggled before shouting, “MY POO IS SWIMMING!”

Following the direction she pointed, indeed, there was a blob of poop floating around the pool.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

In the blink of an eye, Rowan grabbed the plastic bag that came with the book he bought, jumped at the children’s pool and seized his daughter’s poop.

He held the plastic bag with one hand and Maisie’s with another while he went away, but his daughter would not leave the pool without a fight. As if the horrified looks from everyone weren’t enough. God, had they never seen a toddler being gross before?

“We’re leaving, Mais.”

“But why?” She whined.

“Come on.” He tugged at her hand.

Maisie whimpered. “Is it because of my poo?”

“Yes,” he gritted out.

She cried harder.

And on the way home. And when they were arriving home and she calmed down, they went back to square one because of fucking bath time.

“Why do I need a bath?”

Rowan took a deep breath. “Why do you think you need a bath?”

“NO!” His toddler shouted. “I DON’T WANNA THINK!”

He crouched so he’d be around Maisie’s height. “You need to shower because you went to the pool. And pooped in it.”

“I didn’t want to leave the pool!” She argued, lips wobbling while the first tears started to shed.

Rowan loved his daughter. So, so much. He would not snap at Maisie. He would not snap at Maisie. He took a deep breath.

“I know, honey, but we had to.”

“YOU’RE MEAN!” His daughter yelled. “I was happy, and you made all my happy feelings go kaboom!”

After many, many attempts of him trying to reason with a three-year-old, Rowan managed to give his daughter a shower. Maisie did cry because she wanted her mother and screamed bloody murder when it was time to rinse her hair, but they made it out alive.

Bath time had been an issue lately. Aelin liked to make a fucking show while bathing Maisie, with singing and stories and practically performing a puppet show with her toys, and their daughter loved it. The only problem was when she expected Rowan to do the same. No matter how hard he tried, he’d never get the voices or the story—or anything, really—right.

Lunch was as bad as the rest of the day. She cried because the meatballs were too big. Then she cried because she couldn’t cut them herself. So Rowan cut them for her, and she cried more because she decided she wanted the meatballs whole, not cut.

Rowan really wanted to call Aelin and ask her if Maisie was this moody yesterday too, but stopped himself. He didn’t have the mental strength to deal with Aelin Galathynius now.

And you know what? Fuck limited screen time. After lunch, Rowan turned the TV on a low-stimulating show, set Maisie on her little play mat with all the closest toys he could find and decided he’d rest on the couch until he felt like himself again.

He would do whatever the hell Maisie wanted now. Happy toddler means happy dad, and that would be enough for the rest of the day.

This children’s show… it’s really soothing, isn’t it? Rowan could feel his eyes dropping, his limbs relaxing…

Nope. No lying on the couch for him. Bad, bad idea. He got into a seating position and rolled his shoulders back. What was up with him today? Rowan was a drill instructor. He not only knew how to live under the hardest situations, he taught people how to do that.

If he survived the military, he could survive a toddler.

~~

Rowan jolted awake with his daughter’s screams.

He jumped from the couch and followed the sound of her voice, barely registering that his living room was completely covered in paint—floors, furniture, everything.

He entered the kitchen, immediately slipped on the unusually slippery tiles, and busted his hip. It was definitely going to bruise, but his focus now was sliding on the floor until he could get to Maisie.

His daughter was crying because she tried to climb on a drawer as if she were a house cat. And it obviously fell down with her weight.

He sat on the floor, hushing the little girl and repeating over and over that it’s okay.

He didn’t know if he was soothing Maisie or himself.

It was like a tornado had stormed through his kitchen.

The floor was a mix of soap, flour and cereal. Maisie had opened every singled bottom cabinet he owned and thrown its contents on the floor. She drew a sketch all over her face, and looked so dirty it looked like she had gone through an idiotic Youtube prank. And there also was the drawer she just broke, of course.

Rowan breathed in.

He would not scream at his daughter.

Breathed out.

He shouldn’t have slept.

Breathed in.

It was his fault. She was just a toddler.

Breathed out.

He would not scream at his daughter.

He didn’t want to ask her for help, but he needed someone to keep Maisie on a fucking leash so he could finish cleaning this mess today. Aelin was needed, even if her reaction would be somewhere between her shouting at him and… her shouting at him.

Rowan slowly, very slowly dialed her, resigned to his fate even before the shock passed.

“Hey,” he said when she picked up. “Are you busy?”

˜˜

Rowan was greeted with a loud cackle when Aelin came in. She immediately picked Maisie up and smacked their daughter with a kiss, not caring that it’d mess her clothes.

He looked around his trashed living room and sighed. “Don’t worry, the kitchen’s worse.”

Aelin’s eyes widened. You are so fucked, she mouthed when their daughter couldn’t see. “And what happened to your face?”

His phone was out of his pocket in a second, and Rowan groaned when he saw the sketch that had become his nose and cheeks. Very close to the dot on the nose and black lines on the cheeks that Maisie had on.

“Tigers!” The little girl giggled, pointing between her face and Rowan’s.

Aelin was trying to look serious now, but she still bumped her kid’s little nose, or the black paint in it. “You did a big mess, you know that, Maisy Daisy? Are you going to help your dad clean that up?”

Maisie frowned.

“Well, we need to,” Aelin continued, already walking into his house with Maisie in her arms to give her a bath. “If we don’t help your dad clean the kitchen, how are we going to have dinner?” She talked to her daughter until the bathroom door was closed, and Rowan couldn’t hear it anymore.

He resumed his work, thanking Mala that Maisie used the washable paint on the living room’s wooden floor. The back porch’s water hose was long enough to reach a bit of the kitchen, which would help him too.

The damage was done, now he just had to scrub. In fact, now that Aelin could look after Maisie, he felt a lot calmer about the situation.

Aelin. The light mood she was in surprised him, and Rowan hoped he hadn’t crashed her plans, given the light-blue sundress—

Rowan stopped, his jaw suddenly tight. The only thing that brought him back was the realization the water coming in a higher speed because he was squeezing the hose too much, making a bit of a mess.

He went back to work, but not without shaking off the fact that he had a good idea where she was at. With whom, actually.

Rowan couldn’t even ask her because he wasn’t supposed to know shit. Their deal was that they only needed to tell before the other introduced their partner to Maisie. But Aelin told Elide, who told Lorcan, who told Rowan about a month ago about this new boy toy of hers.

Just be prepared, Lorcan told him. And Rowan did. He prepared himself for days.

He paced around his house, thinking of the right questions to ask when the time came, and the right way to ask them. Sellene helped him find the guy’s social media. He seemed okay, but would be good enough for Maisie? He doubted it.

Rowan just knew he’d be a shitty step parent.

He posts Live, Laugh, Love Facebook captions. With the wrong capitalization. Is that the kind of example she wants to set for Maisie?

And Rowan wouldn’t even mention that horrendous yellow filter on his pictures.

Those were just facts. As someone who’s Maisie’s parent and close to nothing to Aelin, his opinion was completely unbiased.

He wanted Aelin to be happy. She was his child’s mother, of course he wanted her to be happy.

But not with Cortland.

When the girls came to the kitchen, Aelin decided to reorganize the cabinets and wash the food containers Maisie threw on the floor. They gave the little girl a cloth to wipe a thing or another, but making her ‘clean her own mess’ was more like a moral lesson than anything else. They couldn’t expect much cleaning from a three-year-old.

“You didn’t give your mom a hard time during bath time, right, Mais?”

“We played sumbarine!” The little girl giggled like she hadn’t turned bath time into a nightmare earlier today. Hell, she was lucky she was cute.

Aelin snorted. “She was fine.” A pause. “Rowan, I need to talk to you about something.”

Now?

Aelin was going to tell him about Cortland now?

His blood turned to ice, and Rowan’s stomach was rioting against her next words. He ignored it and swallowed down whatever that was, burying it as deep as he could. “Go on.”

“Rowan…” she sighed. “You don’t need to wait until after the worst was happened to ask me to come, you know?”

“No, I don’t.” He frowned, confused. What was she talking about?

Turning to him from the sink, she wiped her hands on her dress and rest her hip against the counter. “Look, I know we have the whole 50/50 schedule figured out, but the timetables aren’t that rigid even in the military.”

Rowan opened his mouth to speak, but Aelin lifted her finger, letting him know she wasn’t done.

“You didn’t sleep a wink the whole night, and you didn’t think of asking me too look after my own daughter while you take a break? Seriously?” She took a deep breath, calming herself, and ran a hand through her hair. “I swear to God, Rowan, you’ll call me literally anytime, except when you actually need me.”

His posture slumped, but he didn’t stop scrubbing. He’d get defensive any other day, but Rowan felt so fucking tired. He didn’t have anything in him to have this conversation now, so he opted for changing the subject.

“Thanks for coming, by the way.”

Her posture relaxed, eyes slowly softening. “Yeah. I saved your—“

Aelin stopped herself before she could say an improper word in front of Maisie. But she did, indeed, save his sorry ass.

“You saved me,” he rephrased her thoughts in a proper way.

“You bet I did,” she quietly said around a small smile.

It took a long time to finish cleaning up, but sooner than he thought, thanks to Aelin. She spent half the time helping him, the other wrangling Maisie so she wouldn’t get in his way. It was exactly what he needed. Besides, something about having his house in perfect order was incredibly soothing. He was still exhausted, but scrubbing his kitchen clean with little to no disturbance helped him calm down.

Now the three of them were eating popcorn while watching a TV because it was the best they could do after this day.

Aelin tapped his shoulder from the other side of the couch.

After being awake the majority of last night, one morning at the pool, one trashed house and trying to interrupt a deep-cleaning session, Maisie Galathynius Whitethorn had finally fallen asleep.

The score was still four to one to teething, but at this exact moment, Rowan felt like he won.

Aelin picked Maisie up from the couch, but apparently her daughter’s sleep wasn’t that deep yet.

“No,” she protested. “More movies.”

Aelin chuckled and whispered, “We can’t watch another movie, Mais.”

Maisie’s head was falling to the side with drowsiness, but she was stubborn as ever. “Can I watch the same movie again?”

“No…” Aelin bumped the little girl’s nose. “But you’re a very smart cookie.”

Maisie frowned. “I’m not a cookie.”

She chuckled. “Sorry, kiddo.”

“Not a kiddo,” the little girl mumbled.

Aelin walked toward their daughter’s bedroom and Rowan sighed, relieved that she didn’t protest. This time.

“You’re not a cookie. You’re not a kiddo,” Aelin said on her way. “What are you, then?”

“I’m a Maisie.”

Rowan couldn’t see them, but he could still hear his daughter’s answer, spoken as softly as the kiss Aelin smacked on the little girl.

His whole body relaxed when he heard quiet footsteps coming back. It’s not like he didn’t want Maisie awake and here with them, he was just exhausted from the day. From the week, actually.

“Is she out?”

Aelin snorted. “Like the dead.” She looked around, not really knowing what do with herself and the weird silence that settled. “Don’t you wanna sleep some too? I can make myself scarce.”

Rowan’s body was, indeed, screaming for some rest. He didn’t know what happened when his mouth blurted the opposite thing.

”I was thinking about another movie.” He scratched the back of his head. “Preferably one that doesn’t involve ballerinas and talking animals.”

That seemed to perk Aelin’s interest up. “Like something with assassins?”

“Or spies.”

“Wars.”

“Blood.” He gave a pointed glance to the half-empty popcorn bowl. “And I can make more of these.”

“Good.” She grinned and sat back on the couch, turning the TV on. “I’ll find out what our options are.”

Aelin’s glaze darted back between Rowan and the bowl, silently telling him to rush with the popcorn.

God, how long did he stand there, staring at her?

That day kept getting weirder and weirder. Rowan didn’t want to complain more than he already did, though.

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[spadefish]

update on dental situation (tw for grossness)

When I went to the ER, the nurse told me it was probably cellulitis as opposed to an abscess. 'sure,' i figured, 'i guess that makes sense since it feels HARD and also i've had a root canal up there so idk where an abscess would even be fitting.' I asked her 'can you drain it?' she said 'no, i think it's solid, it's not a liquid, i don't think i can get anything out. go to this dental specialist on wednesday to see if it's loosened up enough by that point to be drained.' 'okay,' i said.

MY theory was that it was just So Very Full of Fluid that it had gotten super taut. As it turns out, that was correct! It opened up and drained today. There was SO much fucking goo in there, dude. So much goo. At least my face isn't swollen now but it IS still sore and I can feel that gross empty pocket now.

Called the ER and was like "hey, i have a visible hole in my gums now, should i come back in or am i fine as long as i'm on this antibiotic + steroid?" she said "come back in if you run a fever of 100.4 or if you feel Suddenly Bad." I'm like 'that's an arbitrary metric, but okay.' Current temp is 99.6, so not quuuiiiite low-grade fever yet. I'm on a steroid so being a degree higher than usual is normal.

Roommate said he'd take me if I need to go back in, so at least I won't have to drive myself this time if it escalates. Gonna try calling the emergency dentist again tomorrow morning to see if they want to stitch it up or anything (because it is a hole in my mouth where i put food). The nurse told me "not to eat on that side," but... it's the very front of my face. it's right under my nose. sigh.

I'll make another post if anything happens.

[fox-daddy]

The arcana as memes again

TW: swearing, smut jokes, being mean to Lucio because it's fun. Also marked as spoilers just incase.

Asra: what flavor of ice-cream would you be?

Julian: vanilla

Lucio: Vanilla? Basic bitch, huh? I'd be pistachio~

Asra: beacuse nobody likes you?

Lucio: offended Lucio noises*

Asra & Julian: dying of laughter*

Asra: nobody likes pistachio ice-cream

~~~

Asra: pre grame post plague singing* hey- how you doing? Yeah, I'm doing just fine. I lied. I'm dying inside.

~~~

Julian: I want to be a reverse tooth fairy where I rob people and then scatter human teeth on their bed

MC: A dentist?

Julian: I don't know what your dentist has been doing to you but I think you need to tell Nadia

~~~

Asra: reading is just staring at a dead piece of wood for hours and hallucinating

Portia: please delete this

~~~

Lucio: when you become famous you're called a legend because your leg ends

Asra: what?

Lucio: your leg. it ends

Nadia: I'm not a linguist but I think that's wrong

Lucio: are you saying your leg doesn't end?

Nadia: I mean. at some point it does. yes.

Lucio: then what's the problem?

~~~

Asra: my proposal for humans 2.0. Wings, detachable boobs, better knees, ears that you can turn on and off

Julian: I agree and would like to add reinforced spines

MC: more eyes

~~~

Asra: I just slept for fifteen hours what did I miss?

Julian: trying not to laugh* this dick

Asra: oh good, I thought I missed something big

Julian: depressed noise*

~~~

Valdemar: If you put a bee in the freezer, it will get cold and fall asleep. After it's asleep, put it in your mouth, but don't eat it. Just let it sit there. It will get warm and wake up. Now you have a bee in your mouth.

MC: Why the fuck would I do that?!

~~~

Lucio: I just pretend I know what I'm talking about 150% of the time

Nadia: if you can't blow them away with your brilliance, baffle them with your bullshit

~~~

Valdemar: Bacteria. The only culture some people have

Lucio: doctors are jerks

Julian: our sense of humor is infectious though

~~~

Asra: Laid is pronounced like paid but not said and said is pronounced like bread but not bead and bead is pronounced like lead but not lead

~~~

Portia: when I was young Julian told me old people sag because they're being pulled to hell and I cried

~~~

Julian: If someone points at your black clothes and asks you whose funeral is it?, take a look around the room and casually say 'Haven't decided yet' because that is always a good response

~~~

Asra: looking at something absolutely weird and yet awesome* why commit murder when you can have one of those?

MC: I'd kill for one of those

Asra: I think you're missing the point, MC

~~~

Asra: your bed is probably as happy to see you as you are to see it. 'here comes the warmth slab' it thinks

Portia: WRONG! it thinks 'I hope this dipshit doesn't spill beans all over me again, who the fuck eats beans in bed?'

Julian: you eat beans in bed?

Portia: not the point!

~~~

MC: eats a snack while looking for a better snack*

~~~

Drunk Lucio: I was using the bathroom and I needed to pee and I couldn't so then I thought in my head. 'pee, come on! I know urine there' and then I wound up laughing to hard that I peed

Asra: LITERALLY NO ONE ASKED!

~~~

MC: I am a piece of trash

Nadia: As someone who cares deeply about the enviroment, I am obligated to pick you up. Is seven okay?

MC: you smooth bitch

~~~

Asra: - saves rare item for a more dire situation

Asra - never uses rare item

MC: what if theirs an emergancy?

-MC gets into an emergency-

MC: WHAT IF THERE'S A BIGGER EMERGENCY?!

~~~

Asra: an apple a day keeps anyone away if you throw it hard enough

Valdemar: bold of you to assume I won't just swallow it

Julian: that's not how swallowing works

valdemar: not if your a whimp

~~~

MC: I like wearing oversized sweaters. Not because they're extremely comfy and cuddly, but because whenever the sleeves are really big, I get to flop them around and smack people

Asra: I love sleeve smacking people

~~~

Lucio: if I were dating you. well, heh. Let's just say horses wouldn't be called 'horses' anymore.

Julian: hey, Lucio? what the fuck does this mean?

Julian: I'm actually shaking what does this mean?!

~~~

MC: oh my god, theirs a dog outside Muriel's house. Best. day. ever. Hello fuzzy baby friend.

MC: NOT A DOG! NOT A DOG! BEAR! ABORT, ABORT, ABORT!

Asra: rolling a 1 on a perception check

~~~

Nadia: if you bite it and you die; it's poisonous. If it bites you and you die; it's venomous.

Lucio: what if it bites me and it dies?

Nadia: that means you're poisonous, pay attention!

MC: what if it bites itself and I die?

Asra: It's magic

MC: okay and what if we bite each other and none of us die?

Julian: that's kinky

~~~

Asra: showing them a picture of a ^ shaped bridge* moon bridge

Julian: how the fuck are you supposed to cross that?

Nadia: with determination

~~~

Nadia: I am at a loss for words!

Lucio @ the audience: despite being loss for words, Nadia spent the next forty-five minutes yelling at me.

[peacheenie]

im gonna explode i wasnt supppsed to be at work today ao i didnt sleep much last night cuz i planned to get up late and shower but my boss needed me in cuz he had an emergency dentist appointment which is. ok cool fine n first he said i needed to only be in until 1ish which yaye awesome i can go home, shower, do some other things. nope. asked me to stay in until 2:30 for the meds to wear off. oh okay thats fine yeah igy. looks around. ive been here almost 2 hours longer than that now. he isnt responding to his texts anymore. where the fuck did he go. is he dead?? the fuck man.

[latenightsuburbansprinklersystem]

I have an emergency dentist appointment this morning for the miserable debilitating tooth pain I've been dealing with this past week and I am so. so. like genuinely deeply afraid for reasons beyond my understanding. like I'm not at all worried about them fucking something up and have full faith that I'm going to go in there get this dealt with and walk out totally fine and not in horrible pain anymore I just get so irrationally freaked out by the thought of like having something put in or taken out of my body or being cut open or anything like that. just absolute paralyzing quaking terror even in a situation like this where I am 100% positive that it will be completely uneventful and everything will be fine. what's up with that

[duhragonball]

Dragon Ball GT 48

✨GT Stands For Guilt Trip✨

Well, we finally made it to the home stretch.  This is the Shadow Dragons Saga, the last arc in Dragon Ball GT.  And it’s pretty fucking terrible, let’s make that clear up front.  I was willing to be diplomatic about GT when I started.  I was prepared to wade through the nonsense of the early episodes, and I let my interest in Tuffle lore keep me engaged with the Baby Saga, and I barely remembered the Super 17 Saga, so I powered through that one by sheer curiosity. 

But the Shadow Dragons Saga sucks ass.  I say this with zero respect to anyone who worked on this anime.  This arc is like watching an oil spill happen.  This arc is like the time I found a dead bird in the vent duct of my dryer.   I’d rather go to the dentist than watch this crap, because at least it wouldn��t take as long.

I’ll be honest with you, dear reader, liveblogging GT has really worn me down.  I wanted to cover this one for the sake of completion, and so I could have a handy reference to each episode in the future, and I also thought it could be a lot of fun to critique the show in a playful sort of way.  But I didn’t take into account just how awful this show really was, or the mental toll it would take on me to spend so much time on it. 

So from here on out, I’m just gonna augur in and get this over with.  Strap yourselves in, because we’re about to see quite possibly the worst Dragon Ball saga ever made.  I’m not sure if the individual episodes are worse than the ones we’ve seen so far, but the arc as a whole is a master class in how to piss away your audience’s goodwill.

✨"Good" "Ideas", Poorly Executed✨

Oh, where do I even begin?  Okay, so when Dr. Gero opened up that portal between Hell and Earth, it caused all these disasters across the Earth, on top of the damage done by Super 17 and Gero’s allies.  Dragon Team decided to summon Shenron to wish away all the death and destruction, but the Dragon Balls were cracked, and when they called Shenron, a bunch of smoke billowed out of the Balls, and a new, shady-looking Dragon emerged. 

King Kai warned Goku that it wasn’t Shenron, but the dragon itself seemed to identify as the same Shenron that Dragon Team had used in the past.  I’m pretty sure it’s the same guy, just changed beyond recognition.  Anyway, this is sometimes referred to as “Smoke Shenron”, and he never actually does anything in this form.  He just tells the good guys that he’s not going to be their “lapdog” any more, and then he takes the Dragon Balls and splits himself into seven parts, each one taking a Dragon Ball in a different direction. 

One annoying part of this is how no one can agree on who’s going to explain this situation. King Kai starts, but then the Elder Supreme Kai cuts him off, but then he’s so furious about it that Kibitoshin has to explain it instead, and then Dende and Mr. Popo show up to add their thoughts.  So I’m just going to give you the summary without getting into who says what.

During the Majin Buu Saga, Kibitoshin heard about the Earthling’s plans to use the Dragon Balls, but he seemed to have no idea what they were.  Later, the Elder Kai caught wind of it, and expressed disapproval.  According to him, the Dragon Balls were a special dispensation to Namekians, and should only be used sparingly.  The idea of the Earth having its own set was bothersome to him, and he seemed uncomfortable about using them to undo the damage of the Buu crisis, even when he was one of the people resurrected by the wishes.  In Dragon Ball Z, it sounded like he was just objecting to the whole thing on moral grounds.

But in this episode, we learn that his warnings we based on very real, very serious dangers. Each time you use the Dragon Balls, you introduce “minus energy” into them.  This arc really lays it on thick with the terms “plus energy” and “minus energy”, so get used to that.  I guess the deal is that it takes plus energy to grant a wish, so each time the Dragon Balls get used, they lose plus and gain minus?  Fuck it, who cares?  The point is that if they get used too often, the minus energy builds up inside the Dragon Balls, until they can’t contain it anymore, and this is what led to the events of this episode.  The next time Shenron is summoned, he comes out looking all weird and instead of granting wishes, he buggers off to start destroying the world.

In theory, the Dragon Balls can safely release this pent-up minus energy after each wish, but it takes about a hundred years for that to happen.  This is why the Dragon Balls scatter after each use.  By the time anyone can find all seven of them again, centuries would have passed, and the minus energy from the previous wish would be gone. 

However, that natural cooldown period got hijacked when Bulma invented the Dragon Radar.  Thanks to her, the Dragon Balls could be gathered much more easily.   Hell, just look at the last episode.  Goku, Trunks, and Pan went to gather the Balls at the tail end of Episode 47 and it didn’t take any time at all.  So over the past forty years, they’ve been making tons and tons of wishes, and that’s overloaded the Dragon Balls.  

The danger now is that Shenron will destroy the Earth.  I think there was a line about how it’s been cut off from the rest of the universe, but I’m not sure if I interpreted it correctly.  There’s also some concern that Shenron might continue his rampage and destroy the rest of the universe as well.  So Goku resolves to hunt down Shenron and kick his ass, which will presumably restore things to normal.

Okay, so that’s the premise.  Here’s why it sucks.

1) This is just a retread of the Black Star Dragon Balls.  I’ve already explained my gripes about the BS Dragon Balls, but the short version is that there was a prototype set of Dragon Balls hidden away for centuries, and using them can destroy the whole world, and Mr. Popo knew about them the whole time and never said anything.  The BS Dragon Balls were written out of the story in Episode 40, so now we’ve returned to the classic Red Star Dragon Balls we’ve always known, and suddenly they turn out to have the same problem, where they’re too dangerous to use.  So it’s not even original.

2) Why didn’t anyone say anything about this until now? This is the worst kind of retcon, the kind where new lore is introduced that doesn’t even remotely fit into the established history.  As this episode states, the gang have been using the Dragon Balls for decades.  During that time, they met Kami, who created the Dragon Balls, and other characters like Mr. Popo, Guru, Moori, and Dende, who know a great deal about creating and maintaining Dragon Balls.  Throughout Dragon Ball and DBZ, characters will pose questions about the kinds of wishes they can make, and what rules apply, and the experts will mull it over and give clear, concise answers.  On occasion, Shenron himself will counsel the characters who summon him, explaining the limitations of his powers and making helpful suggestions for how to word their wishes.  

The point I’m making here is that the Dragon Balls are extremely user-friendly.  The hard part is gathering them all together, but once you’ve done that, there’s plenty of guidance on how to use them and what not to do. And at no point did anyone ever bring up the dangers of overuse.  And yet, when Episode 48 comes along, you have King Kai, Kibitoshin, the Elder Kai, and Mr. Popo all going “Yeah, you assholes blew it.  You shouldn’t have used them so much.”  

3) If the Dragon Balls need 100 years to reset, then why do they work the way they do?  From the start, the Dragon Balls turn into stone for a year, after which they change back into orange crystal orbs and they can be used again.  This was written into the story to explain why the characters can’t just constantly re-gather the Dragon Balls for continuous wishing.  But it’s implied that this is a cooldown period to reset them for the next use.  This is further clarified when Dende reactivates the Dragon Balls in the Cell Saga.  They ask him to upgrade the Dragon Balls to grant three wishes instead of just one, and he can do it, but it means adjusting the “wishing power”.  Shenron can’t be made to grant 800 wishes in one go, because there’s a limit to what he can do in one summoning.  Porunga seems to have far greater capacity than Shenron, which is why he can resurrect people multiple times, restore whole planets, and always grant three wishes every 130 days.  But I assume this is because he’s built different.  

So there’s already a lot of logistical considerations built into the Dragon Ball concept.  And yet this episode suggests that the 1-year cooldown is only one percent of the time the Dragon Balls actually need to reset.  If that were true, then why didn’t Kami or Dende fix it so they turn to stone for 100 years instead of just one? 

Also, this episode mentions how Dende upgraded the Dragon Balls to grant more wishes, which only compounded the problem.  Well if Dende knew that was an issue, why the hell did he do it? And if he didn’t know, then how is he qualified to make and maintain Dragon Balls in the first place?  Dende doesn’t have much to say in this episode, which doesn’t make any fucking sense, because he should know more about Dragon Balls than anyone else in the show.  He’s a Dragon Type Namekian!  He literally studied the art of making Dragon Balls!  That’s why they recruited him to become the new Kami of Earth!  Moori said all of this when he recommended Dende to Goku! 

It really, really annoys me how this series keeps deferring to Mr. Popo for all of the Dragon Ball lore.  Popo is an attendant to the reigning Kami of Earth.  He’s not a Namekian, and everything he knows about Namekian culture and Dragon Balls, he learned from Kami, a Namekian.  Dende is a Namekian.  Everything he learned about Namekian culture and Dragong Balls, he learned on Namek.  He knew all about this stuff before he came to Earth, and then he kept studying it afterward.  And unlike Kami, Dende didn’t lose his memories of his people. 

If this Shadow Dragon nonsense made any sense at all, then Dende should be the one explaining it to the others.  Instead, they’re all explaining it to him, like he’s some idiot who never knew how any of this worked.

Seriously, how the fuck would Mr. Popo know about an evil dragon destroying another planet?  He’s never left Earth.  What would he know about any of this? I could see Dende reading about something like this in some book of Namekian legends, but not Popo.  Hey, speaking of Dende...

4) Why don’t they just kill Dende?  Everyone talks about this Shenron problem like it’s irreversible, but Shenron’s not invincible.  King Piccolo killed him with a ki blast, and he’s a weakling compared to most of the characters in this show.  But even if Shenron got stronger from all this minus energy, and killing Shenron isn’t an option, then why don’t they just kill Dende? 

This has always been the way it works.  When Nappa killed Piccolo, Kami died too, and the Dragon Balls were deactivated.  When Guru died, the Namekian Dragon Balls were deactivated.  When Kami and Piccolo fused into one, the Earth’s Dragon Balls were deactivated.  According to GT, their fusion somehow reactivated the Black Star Dragon Balls, which is why Piccolo allowed himself to die in Episode 40, so they would never endanger anyone again.  So it’s clear that the people making GT understood this concept. 

Well then, the Earth’s Dragon Balls are under the stewardship of Dende now, so if he dies, they should stop working.  This was a major plot point in the Buu Saga, where they needed to keep Dende alive in order to wish everyone back to life after Buu was defeated.  Kill Dende, kill Shenron. 

I’m not saying they should have actually gone through with this, but why doesn’t anyone bring it up?  Or, a more humane option would be to break that sculpture of Shenron that Mr. Popo made.  I’m pretty sure Kami and Dende always had the power to turn Shenron off when it suited their purposes.  We never saw that put into practice, but the pecking order was always very clear.  Shenron is not a “god” or a “mysterious legend”.  He’s a magic familiar under the control of Dende.  Shenron can’t do shit without Dende to allow it. 

5) What about the Namekian Dragon Balls?  If this is a problem on Earth, then why has it never been an issue on Namek, where the Dragon Balls can be used much more frequently?  Do they just know how to avoid the problem, or do they wait 100 years between wishes?  I ask this because we’ve seen Porunga grant a dozen wishes in about as many years.  Oh, and in GT, they used Porunga again to restore the Earth after it exploded in Episode 40.  So the Namekian Dragon Balls have been overused at least as badly as the Earth’s Dragon Balls.  So where’s their Shadow Dragon problem? 

But maybe I’m being too hard on this story.  Yeah, there’s a lot of plot holes to this, but ultimately it comes down to a pretty cool angle.  The final boss of Dragon Ball is the Dragon himself.  Goku has to fight the Dragon to save the universe, and the Dragon has split into seven, which means Goku has to throw down with seven badass monsters, like some kind of awesome fantasy martial arts gauntlet.  Right?

Right?

You’re shaking your head, are you saying that the Shadow Dragons are not badass monsters?  Well that can’t be right, I’m sure that.... Oh.  Oh.

6) The Shadow Dragons suck ass.   Goku tracks down the first one and he looks like a joke.  Then a rock falls on his toe and he cries out in pain, revealing that he doesn’t just look like a joke, he is a joke.

This is played off like some sort of “appearances can be deceiving” trope, where the moral is not to underestimate your foe.   But that’s really not what this series needed at this stage.  You kind of knew that the Shadow Dragons would get increasingly difficult with each one, so the very first one would be the weakest, but this is ridiculous.  By the end, the last three give Super Saiyan 4 Goku a hard time, but the first four Shadow Dragons are total chumps.  They play their tricks and give Goku some trouble, but not because of any physical strength they possess.  And then you finally get to the “serious” Dragons at the end, and the fights suck, because GT is terrible at presenting fight scenes.

And this is what makes the arc so damned infuriating.  The Saiyans Saga from Z worked because it opened with a devastating conflict--Goku dies, for goodness’ sake!-- and then it promises an even more terrible enemy will appear in one year.  So the heroes train and the story winds on and the arc relies on this suspense.  What are the two Saiyans going to do when they get here?  How strong could they be?   Can anything stop them?  Then they finally arrive and the first thing they do is destroy a whole city.   The second thing they do is kill several major characters.  After it’s over, Goku spends the next several episodes in the hospital, because Vegeta broke every bone in his body!  The Saiyans Saga did not fuck around, and the reason it’s such a classic is that it delivered on the hype.

The Shadow Dragons Saga is the polar opposite to this.  This arc opens with dire warnings about seven monsters who will surely destroy the whole world, and it blunders the execution in every possible way.  The last Shadow Dragon is the only one that really matters, and he throws a clock at Goku, just to give you an idea of how “intense” that battle is.   You watch this garbage hoping that each new Shadow Dragon will redeem the disappointments that came before, and then you finally look up and notice that there are no more.   All of the Shadow Dragons came and went, and they all sucked. 

✨Positivity Page✨

There was a montage of all the wishes made over the years, so I guess that was pretty nice.  I’ll be honest, it’s gonna be really hard to find anything nice to say about these next few episodes. 

✨Is This Episode Worse than "The Roaming Lake"?✨

Yes.  It is worse.  The Roaming Lake is pretty much guaranteed to make a clean sweep of this thing.  All hope is lost.

One major problem with this episode is that very little actually gets done.  Most of the runtime is spent infodumping the Shadow Dragon concept, and I think I’ve already made my opinion on that very clear.  They spent a lot of time explaining the thing, but they managed to avoid every question that I had about it.

The rest of the episode shows lots of pointless scenes of Shadow Dragons flying around the world, choosing their bases of operations and selecting their powers.  One of them flies into a volcano and he’s going to be their fire guy.  That sort of thing.   Then Goku remembers he forgot the Dragon Radar, so Pan offers to let him have Giru, but only if she can tag along.  Then they find Haze Shenron, who looks like the love child of a frog and a moldy potato.

✨The Blade Braxton Memorial Haiku*✨

Yeah, this show gets worse. 

Don’t worry, though.  We still have

Plenty of Giru.

[biganimal92]

the new hire finally broke me because we had a very roundabout conversation where she was asking how to schedule an emergency appointment to have a chipped tooth looked at and like, even ignoring the fact that she has had to have multiple dedicated conversations with the lead dental assistant and the lead dentist about very basic dental terminology so like she should fucking know what a limited exam is, she shouldn't even be asking this question because she's scheduled them before and watched me schedule them and has been told how to schedule them several times at this point

and it was such a waste of time because she wasn't understanding at all why this appointment had to be a limited exam and why it couldn't just be a straight up procedure. like she didn't understand that this is our first time seeing the patient for this problem and it needs to be diagnosed before it can be treated. so after going around in circles to get her to realize what kind of appointment this needed to be and how treatment isn't guaranteed because it's just a diagnostic exam, I had to then explain that we can't schedule the follow up extraction until this patients been seen because we have zero idea what kind of treatment she'll need for her problem and we'd only be able to determine that when she's seen by the provider

and so I spent fifteen fucking minutes repeating all this information over and over and over and after she scheduled it and ended the interaction with the patient she then had the fucking gall to ask me why we couldn't just schedule the extraction if that's what the patient needs. and I had to stay calm because there were people around but I asked her if she ever listens to people when they're talking to her because of how many times I've explained this information to her in just this conversation alone and when she realized I was getting mad at her THEN she decided to try to understand what I was telling her

like she is so lucky that I don't want to ruin my Applebee's experience tonight when I get off work and I'm being serious. also aside from the time when she was repeatedly misgendering trans patients after being corrected several times this is the only time I've ever said anything remotely mean to her but I am in general not nice to her because she is an insufferable human being even outside of her inexplicable incompetence

[februaryberries]

went to my dentist appointment literally crying from pain on both ibuprofen and tylenol and they did the exam and such and then they told me to go schedule my next appointment where i’ll actually get my teeth pulled and my appointment isn’t until APRIL TWELFTH. babe i barely made it through the last 24 hours there is no way im making it, let me check, THREE WHOLE FUCKING WEEKS

so im at an emergency dentist and luckily we are doing well enough that we can pay for extractions out of pocket but i fucking hate US healthcare ESPECIALLY dental care

[perculiar]

Very brave of me to take half a meth med when my tummy has been wrecked for 2 months (i need to do work)

I was thinking about my body and why it’s going thru it internally more than usual and

January: STI checks and course of PEP from being raped in December; mental health fucking dive - general shame, self-blame, isolation

Feb: managed to come out of the haze a little to have my CSA trauma flare the fuck up alongside OCD meaning hypersexuality begins in an incredibly overwhelming confusing way; return to place of SA for large blackwork tattoo (with incredibly sensitive skin)

March: started T on the 1st; more sexual health blood tests (syphilis + HIV checks); flying to Spain to take care of a dear friend, then launched into the worst 2 month acting job I’ve had

April: emergency dentist bc jaw n tooth pain meant I couldn’t eat or breathe and no pain meds + wine combo were touching it, I was almost on the edge of passing out n had to take a week out to have the rest days I was told I could have but was never given; food issues flared up; started vaping also which hurts my tummy; second inter-muscular dose of T administered by a friend after googling; ADHD psychosocial needs assessment; break up with post-assault counsellor bc she makes me feel awful and doesn’t understand dissociation is also an emotional reaction.

May: push to finish this job after unionising with the cast and crew - can barely take care of myself and therapist breaks usual neutrality to tell me they’re really concerned that this job is traumatising me in a way reminiscent of being stuck in domestic abuse childhood situations (it was and the mantra was “the only way out is through” lol); lost about £800 to ongoing dental needs to be decided it was grinding and I needed a specialist splint 👌🏽; finally finish the worst job of my life to immediately get sick for a week

June: finish off first root canal (still hurts to use left side of mouth); can’t eat and experience IBS-like symptoms and bloating in a big way for the first time; start round of antibiotics; mental health in York nosedives and I start feeling trapped and panicked; find and sign for new Manchester flat despite being over budget; more blood tests; podiatry appointment; generally quite ill and having to miss birthdays and events

July: MOVE TO MANCHESTER 🥳; start second root canal with round of stronger antibiotics that fuuuck up my mouth bc turns out I have an infection in the bone; third T injection; domestic violence support worker meeting (Chloe IDAS); second root canal; doctors about IBS = turns out to be extremely swollen stomach lining, possibly bc of ibuprofen use

Now here we are in

August: tummy getting better; mouth less fucked; need to stop vaping; felt like i dislocated my shoulder but after 3 very high pain days the hot osteopath helped ease it; need to call drs + find out where the blood test is + do the anonymous intelligence against the guy (NHS dr) who raped me

So that’s. Health stuff, mostly. Writing it out helped me see that I’m not actually just fucken,, wasting my time constantly. I can take more time for rest and recovery even. Jfc

[frasermints]

american healthcare literally just... doesn't make ANY sense to me. why are specialty and primary care offices only open monday to friday 8 am - 4 pm. my migraines don't take weekends off. prescription alterations need to happen at 3 in the morning sometimes. we can't wait 60 hours for this shit. we can't continue to bankrupt ourselves and go to the hospital just for them to say "i can't do anything, call your doctor in the morning/on monday/after the holiday."

this is why i'm so fucking fed up with people in countries with universal healthcare going "wow, americans are so stupid" every time one of us dies of a "preventable" injury or illness. a woman dying of the flu because she couldn't afford COBRA after her employer decided she was too much of a liability to keep around so they fired her on her tenth anniversary of employment, or a twelve year old dying of a brain infection after medicaid refused to cover his tooth extraction.

"just take him to the dentist" "just go to the doctor" do you know how much dentist visits cost??? you can't just walk into any doctor's office around here. you walk in without establishing a doctor/patient relationship and they will LITERALLY call the cops on you. there are signs in every single doctor's office in my hometown saying that if you have not filled out new patient paperwork and paid the absurd cost for an uninsured patient intake assessment (usually 1 hour appointment, anywhere from $50 to $500 depending on the network) you will be removed from the facility and blacklisted from the network. you will literally be put on a fucking do not interact list for fucking medical care if you're poor and desperate.

so where does that send you?

the fucking emergency room. that can't treat most everything that poor americans die from. they can't do tooth extractions. they charge 10x+ what a normal pharmacy would charge for tamiFLU, and the cost of just sitting in the waiting room is $1000.

american healthcare is killing people.

[three--rings]

That poll about power outages is WILD to me. Most people are replying with like IDK an hour or less than a day or MAYBE that one time a day.

And my answer is 21 days. And it's just the extreme difference in living somewhere with a Natural Disaster Season and not.

So okay I'll tell the story of the 21 days. It's also my very first memory (collectively, a series of memories.) (To be clear I've had other power outages but not THAT long. I've only been ground zero for a big hurricane once. Remind me to tell you my Tropical Storm Alison story sometime tho.)

So Hurricane Alicia hit Galveston and then Houston in August 1983. I was four. It will be the 40th anniversary this year.

At the time my family was living close to the Port of Houston, because my dad worked in the power plants in that industrial area. So my very first memory is hunkering in my parent's bathroom, with an electric lantern and a radio, listening to the storm hit the port a few miles away. And then the radio stopped, just went to static. (Some of this is my mom's account blended with my memory, to be clear.)

The storm passed over us and at dawn we emerged to see the damages. I remember it vividly. The sky was purple and orange. The street was a river and there were entire trees floating down it. I've seen a lot of storms and I've never seen that kind of pure destruction. But it was only trees. We were lucky.

(Yes these photos being Black and White Historical Images makes me feel ancient thanks. I promise we had color film.)

Anyway, after that, the only problem was there was NO POWER. All the power lines were down, poles and all. And it was AUGUST in Texas.

I remember holding ice in a towel against myself as the only way to get cool.

Then power started being turned on in bits and pieces in the area. The first place to get power that we knew was a dentist office belonging to a friend of my parents. So we all moved into the dentist office. Like four sets of parents with eight or so kids. Sleeping on the floor of a dentist because it had air conditioning. Me in my Strawberry Shortcake sleeping bag.

Then my grandmother's apartment got power, so we moved out of the dentist to a one bedroom apartment. My parents, my grandmother, me and my teenage brother. All in two small rooms. I remember...arguing.

Then, finally, 21 fucking days later the power at my house was turned back on.

I'm tempted to say it's because it was 40 years ago or because it was Texas or because it was a poor neighborhood that it took so long.

But honestly, sometimes all the infrastructure gets knocked down and you have to rebuild the whole system from scratch and it takes time. I'm not sure it would be a whole lot shorter today.

My family was without power after Hurricane Ike for a week+ and that was a nice neighborhood without any significant damage. (I had left the city by then.) And most of my coworkers went without power for a solid week after that one and we are 100 miles further inland. (My electric co-op stayed up, though, because it came from another direction. Also stayed on during that terrible freeze that took the state out a couple years ago. Small decentralized community-owned power ftw.)

So yeah, losing power has always just been a thing. Like occasionally you just have a named storm come through and wreck your shit. It's wild to me that people live places where the planet doesn't just try to kill you occasionally.