#and then you'd have to see the doctor for it

[ms-demeanor]

You have mentioned that osteopaths (DOs) are not just medical woo and are roughly equivalent to MDs. I was looking into it more and finding that myofascial release and osteopathic manual manipulation seem to be verified about as well as chiropracty. As these seem to be the main differing abilities of DOs from MDs, would you explain your reasoning on trusting DOs?

I see one as part of my regular hEDS medical care for realigning and unsticking joints as well as craniosacral therapy. My perception is that it’s helpful when I’m in pain and often I can tell that something was misaligned and has been realigned, but I recognize that I see significantly more improvement when I’m regular about my PT, which is significantly more supported by medical literature.

It's not that they're roughly equivalent to MDs, it's that in terms of licensing, training, certification, scope of practice, and education they are *exactly* equivalent to MDs but they sprinkled some woo on top.

At some point, some people practicing osteopathy decided that they wanted to be real doctors, so they organized and lobbied and, very importantly, *went to medical school about it.* (As long as they went to medical school about it - make sure you're seeing a DO, not an "osteopath" - one is a legally protected term that grants the right to practice medicine and the other is not)

Completing a degree in Osteopathic Medicine requires first completing a bachelor's degree with specific requirements for biological sciences - the same course work and degree you'd do before applying to a medical school, basically. Then you get the four-year DO degree, then a one-year internship, then a residency of anywhere from three to eight years. In order to practice medicine, they have to pass the same medical board examines and have the same training qualifications as an MD. In the US, MD and DO are equivalent degrees, though DOs take extra time to study osteopathy (which is, yes, pseudoscientific nonsense).

DO programs have more of a focus on holistic one-on-one patient centered care than a lot of MD programs; DOs train and focus more on becoming primary care physicians and are less likely to become specialist surgeons (though there are DOs who are licensed to practice surgery!), but a Doctor of Osteopathic Medicine is a fully qualified doctor. They have done all the same things that an MD has done - including 10,000+ hours of clinical training as part of a residency. They just ALSO do a couple hundred hours of the osteopathy stuff. There are DOs who are obstetricians, ER doctors, surgeons, endocrinologists - a DO is a full-on doctor. One of the doctors Large Bastard was treated by in the hospital in December was a DO. I cannot emphasize that enough, they are legally certified and educationally qualified to practice medicine throughout the united states.

Compare this to chiropractors, who also want to be seen as doctors, who do not need a bachelor's degree before attending a chiropractic college, whose chiropractic education is 3-4 years, and whose requirements to practice include about 4200 hours of clinical training. (Chiropractors, it should be noted, are very specifically not allowed to practice "medicine, surgery, osteopathy, dentistry or optometry" and may not provide "any drug or medicine" to patients; eat shit chiropractors)

However, you're correct, and both chiropractic and osteopathy are unsupported by good evidence.

I think the osteopathic stuff that osteopaths do is kind of a weird quirk that is tolerated by the medical establishment because it's unlikely to do harm and it doesn't prevent people from seeking actual medical care (because the DOs providing it should be providing medical care beyond osteopathy).

And even though the osteopathy itself is nonsense, a lot of people with chronic illnesses find better success being treated by a DO as their PCP because DOs - probably at least partially because they are trained in nonsense - are less dismissive of patients presenting with unusual or difficult-to-believe symptoms. DOs are less likely to ignore patients who come in with a stack of research from the internet and a journal of symptoms who are saying "I think I may have XYZ uncommon condition and I need treatment."

Personally I wish the osteopathy was cut out of it and there was just a branch of medicine that trained to listen to patients better than MDs do, but given that osteopathy isn't likely to cause significant harm either directly (WAY less risk of bad outcomes from gentle pressing and moving of the body than from rapid twisting and pulling of the upper spine) or indirectly (DOs can order tests, DOs can prescribe medication, DOs can refer to specialists, DOs get the same kind of comprehensive diagnostic education that MDs do) I don't have that much of a grudge against it. I see it more in the vein of "drinking peppermint tea probably doesn't actually do anything for nausea but hot drinks with honey in them feel good" area of pseudoscience than in the "chiropractor treating someone's cancer with apricot pits" area of pseudoscience. Except that they then also do real science.

It's a weird field, I'm not gonna lie! It feels very much like if you were talking to an orthopedic surgeon who was very much an orthopedic surgeon and then they sat you down for five minutes of a sound bath before your procedure. Doesn't make sense to me really, but the standards of practice that they have ("use actual evidence-based practice in addition to the osteopathy") cancel out the "okay but osteopathic manipulation is fake" of it all.

They kind of drive me crazy, and for a huge group of patients they're probably the best kind of provider. Hell, a DO might be the best kind of provider for *me* if I didn't have the most wonderful PA in the world as my PCP.

[frillydolle]

hiiii !!! so i dont know if it was u who wrote an arthur x reader fic where reader wears their fathers glasses to read? im pretty sure it wasnt, but i thought of it as a good idea. so, what im asking is, would u be comfortable writing something with reader wearing glasses but instead of not seeing things near they don't see things far away. so they're going through life blurry and arthur notices because they keep bumping into things bc they have no sense of depth without their glasses. offers to make them an appointment for eye doctor and helps them choose the glasses and everything ? thought it would be cute (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)

arthur morgan x blind female reader

꒰ 𝝑𓏲 ꒱ wearing my glasses right now as i write this :)

“sweetheart, 'm right here— no, 'm here—... y'alrigh'?”

“... i think so.”

that was probably the fourth time u have walked into something? no one else wasn't really sure why, but only because u didn't tell anyone. it was like a secret of urs that u have kept for a long while.

arthur was really the only man who knew u struggled with ur eyesight for as long as u can remember. shooting was a huge problem that u avoid as much as u could despite living in an outlaw gang, arthur would do best his best to help u, but it never went well. u couldn't even hit a bottle!

shooting was definitely not in ur skills. no matter the number of times that arthur willing helps u shoot a gun or help u aim better, nothing worked. u always still managed to shoot a tree or shoot at.. basically nothing, u always missed the three empty bottles he placed for u to gun at.

“mr morgan, i can't— i can't see that bottle, 's too far.”

“want me to bring it closer?”

of course he did. undeniably, he's always had a soft spot for you, but it's not like he'd admit anyone else in camp or you, especially. he treated u like a fragile girl, which u weren't too far from. having bad eyesight did make u feel more vulnerable and fragile, and arthur knew this. makes him just a little protective with you as he's often seen with his fingers intertwined with urs or his arm rests around ur waist. it gave yoy sense of safety and.. comfort.

sometimes the silly man might forget just how blind you really are:( he'd never mean to! he'd just be so so focused on something and he'd bring you with him and it just slips his mind simply!

“arthur, wait—!” you'd say as u try to catch up to his pace, ur hands slightly out just in case u fall. “oh, 'm sorry, sweetheart. 'm right 'ere.”

but now, he decided to help you, proper this time. the two of u are on his horse whike trotting away, your hands around his torso tightly incase you fall or anything like such. you had no idea where he was taking you though, his words being “'s a secret, but nothin' too big, y'know?” nonetheless, you were just glad that he out if camp, noticing how stressed he would be until his blue-green eyes would set on you:(

“... saint denis? what do you have planned, arthur?” you say with a small giggle, looking at him while he's looking straight onto the road in front of him. “jus' a nice day out. you 'n' me.” he replied. huh. a nice day out. just a day out. but days were him were never often that simple, usually ended with someone recognising from blackwater or another robbery, or you talking him out of beating a man for making you uncomfortable. you thanked him regardless, making sure you're safe and well.

then he hitches off his hourse, you follow suit...the doctor's office? what was he doing here? i mean, he's fine, right? you're fine too except your eyesight, of course. wait, was he—

“c'mon, darlin'. yer fine, i promise ya.” he says as he sticks his arm to you, waiting for you to hold his arm before walking into the building. he knew you were slightly anxious about it, but he was willing to help you in any way he could.

a man like him... blood on his hands, lives taken because of him, rough and callous from hard work, a man like him with all bite and bark like a violent dog. that man bring a sweet girl like you to the doctor's office to get you sorted out with a new pair of glasses. ♡

[gallifreyinstituteforlearning]

What is the current population of Gallifreyans living on Earth as of 2025? And is England really Gallifreyan central as suggested in the stories over the galaxy? And if so why and does the Doctor have anything to do with it?

Are there Gallifreyans on Earth?

🌍 Population Count: No Idea.

When Gallifreyans end up on Earth and decide to stay, they're usually there for a reason. Some might just like the idea of fourth retirement skiing in the Alps or enjoying New York's vibe. But not many Gallifreyans see Earth the way the Doctor does—which is to say, as the most important, most fascinating, most adventure-prone planet in the universe.

If a Gallifreyan is on Earth, it's usually not because they're drawn to it. It's because they don't want to be found. It's the perfect hiding spot for a few reasons:

✅ It's a primitive planet—which means it's legally protected from most direct alien interference under Galactic Law. Anyone trying to find the Gallifreyan will have to file a ridiculous amount of paperwork with the Shadow Proclamation, and no one wants to do that.

✅ They blend in extremely well. Gallifreyans look close enough to humans that they don't need to alter their biology, use a Chameleon Arch, or invent some tragic backstory.

So, are there Gallifreyans living on Earth? Almost definitely, but we'll never know how many.

👽Is the UK Really Gallifreyan Central?

1️⃣ Space-Time Hotspots – London and Cardiff are ridiculously active when it comes to weird space-time phenomena. The rift in Cardiff is basically a free energy source for any stranded or tired TARDIS. London, meanwhile, has enough alien invasions to be a nightmare for insurance companies. As a rule, Time Lords and TARDISes tend to get a little more drawn to places and times where there's more activity.

2️⃣ Treacherous Landings – Gallifreyan navigation systems are complex, and one wrong digit in the coordinates could send a TARDIS straight into the Pacific Ocean. Time Lords who end up on Earth often find themselves in the same few locations—not necessarily because they meant to, but because it's safer than materialising in the middle of nowhere.

3️⃣ The Doctor's Fault (Obviously) – Let's be real. Earth is a tiny planet, populated by a lesser species, and objectively not that interesting.

Most Gallifreyans haven't looked into it that much and have a very warped perception of Earth because the only information they get is from the Doctor's antics. If you were a Gallifreyan casually curious about Earth, you'd assume the entire planet consisted of:

London, which is constantly being invaded.

Cardiff, which apparently contains the only TARDIS fuel station worth stopping at.

Quarries, which seem to make up 90% of Earth's natural terrain.

A warehouse. Something's always going on in that warehouse.

Motorways that may or may not lead directly into hellscapes.

A rotating selection of remote villages with a tendency for cult activity.

Some other rural bits around the edge.

4️⃣ It's Trendy (Probably) – If the Doctor has a reputation for going here, then other young Gallifreyans might find it a bit trendy to visit as well. Some of them probably do it ironically. Some genuinely want to see what all the fuss is about. Some are definitely stranded and making the best of it.

🏫 So ...

We can be quietly confident that there are Gallifreyans on Earth right now, but we have no clue how many. The UK is Gallifreyan central—not intentionally, but it just keeps happening.

Is it the Doctor's fault? Absolutely.

Related:

💬|🪐🌍How is Gallifreyan geography different to Earth?: The landscape of Gallifrey.

💬|🧑💻How long until the Earth might reach the technological age of Gallifrey?: Handy guide for humans wishing to progress.

💬|👥🧑‍⚕️The Doctor: Hero, Rebel, or Nuisance?: Asking just what Gallifrey thinks of the Doctor.

Hope that helped! 😃

Any orange text is educated guesswork or theoretical. More content ... →📫Got a question? | 📚Complete list of Q+A and factoids →📢Announcements |🩻Biology |🗨️Language |🕰️Throwbacks |🤓Facts → Features:⭐Guest Posts | 🍜Chomp Chomp with Myishu →🫀Gallifreyan Anatomy and Physiology Guide (pending) →⚕️Gallifreyan Emergency Medicine Guides →📝Source list (WIP) →📜Masterpost If you're finding your happy place in this part of the internet, feel free to buy a coffee to help keep our exhausted human conscious. She works full-time in medicine and is so very tired 😴

[shamebats]

It actually really bothers me how most people are way more willing to listen to TERFs who claim to be detransitioned trans men who initially transitioned for all the TERF talking point reasons (wanting to escape misogyny, just not loving their bodies enough, hating women/femininity, peer pressure, manipulation by doctors etc) than to actual trans men.

It reminds me of the satanic panic when you had all these people claiming to be former members of satanic cults who went around giving interviews about how they used to kill babies in evil satanic orgy rituals but then they saw the error in their ways, started going to church & now they're on a heroic mission to save other people from going down that road that definitely exists. Meanwhile the actual satanists at the time were doing none of that. But of course nobody ever talked to them. Because the truth wasn't as dramatic.

It's the worst when other trans people do it & spread transphobic conspiracy theories about transmisogynistic trans men siding with radfems, being seduced by their ideology enough to detransition & then become TERFs.

Oh where did you hear about that being a thing that happens enough to be a common trend? From TERFs who claim they used to be trans men but then detransitioned after learning that radfeminism is the truth & the light? Of course, they sure have no reason to be lying about that. Especially when they are random anonymous people online. I can totally see why you'd choose to believe what fucking TERFs tell you about the experiences of your fellow trans people, sure, why the fuck not?

[glasratz]

You know, usually when you have people talking shit about the police, it's from someone who got in trouble with them. Since I never got in conflict with the police, I thought I could provide some contrast by telling about every single encounter with the German police I ever had.

In the late 90s, someone made a threat of a school shooting at my school. For the given day the police placed one car with two officers in the shade behind the sports hall. When I walked past, one of the officers was just having a bottle of beer.

2. Once a big squad car cut me off while I was just walking down the street and they demanded to see my papers. I provided them and they were gone in an instant. Later I realized I was wearing a leather jacket and that must have been very suspicious.

3. Me and my brother were the only direct witnesses of a motorcycle accident and he provided first aid. The police took down our names and told us to wait on the site. After almost two hours we left. They never came back to us. According to the bullshit the paper wrote later, they didn't find any other witnesses and wasted resources looking for a hit-and-run driver, while in reality there was no one else involved. The motorcyclist just lost control.

4. Once I called the police on some scammers ripping off students at the campus of my university. They told they'd come but they didn't show up. When I went home, I found them waiting in the university's underground garage (!). I provided them with details of the scammers that were long gone by that point. The papers later told me that they didn't catch them for months, since they kept doing their thing in other parts of the town, too.

5. My car was damaged in a hit-and-run accident. The neighbours were all to earger to tell me that it was one of the vehicles from a nearby construction site. There was even debris painted orange next to my car. I called the police and was told to drive up to the station, call them again and someone would come out to have a look at my car. Of course they forgot about me and I had to call again after waiting for an hour. Then they kept the case open for one full week. They didn't even look into it.

6. When I was taking a train to a nearby town, a young couple (16 and 17 years old) was shaken down by plain clothes narcotics officers. Not did those guys (and one gal) look like tatooed gangsters, they were extremely loud and rude. It almost seemed like they wanted to make sure everyone in the train knew that they had just caught two criminals. They found one (1) joint and a plastic bag that smelled like dope. One of the youths was able to provide a doctor's prescription, but they just laughed that off. The train ride took five minutes to the terminus, so they easily could have waited until the next stop and questioned the couple outside in private.

7. Once I lost an important paper and some good guy handed it in at the police station. When I picked it up, the officer gave me a piece of paper with the contact information of the person who found my stuff, so that I could thank him. When I looked at the paper at home I noticed that it not only gave his name and adress, but also his date of birth, marital status, employer and ID card number.

So that paints quite the picture, doesn't it? I'm not saying that if I did my job like that I would be fired or sued, because that's simply not true. Still, you'd imagine that at one point you'd see them doing their job right, wouldn't you.

[unluckywisher]

If this is totally outside your realm of comfort to write then that's cool but I figured there's no harm in shooting my shot. Your small chested reader with Caleb piece was delightful, and I was wondering 👉👈Might you consider writing a little something about a trans reader who's dealing with chest dysphoria?

While this isn't my field of expertise, I would love for my fics to comfort all kinds of people so I shall try my best!!! <3 🫡 Constructive criticism is appreciated since this is my first time writing this kind of stuff!! :D

Caleb was the first person you told about your transition, both because you consider him your closest friend, and because you knew he would support you. And he does!

At first he didn't know much about what he should do or how he should act, but being the resourceful man he is, he immediately looked into it so he could be as supportive as possible and anticipate any needs you might have.

Of course one of the first things he learnt about was how you could feel uncomfortable and insecure of your own body. Not on his watch.

Prepare to receive lots of binders in different styles because he just has to make sure you're comfortable and you look how you want to look. All the while saying and reassuring that you don't need these to be a man, you already are, but he figured you would appreciate them.

He would show you his favorite clothing stores and encourage any and all styles you might want to try, trying to be objective with you so you'd know he means it if he says that you look how a guy would look, without being condescending.

If you keep tugging at your shirt or wearing baggy clothes because you're not comfortable with your body yet, he will just. Take your hand and make you feel how big his chest is. He'll joke about how he might need to wear a binder too by your standards.

He'll invite you to go exercising with him and encourage you to wear tighter sports clothes, biggest hype man there ever was.

"You keep complainin' about your chest but I only see it getting flatter and mine getting bigger. I think I'm absorbing your energy and getting more powerful." And such memery aplenty.

Insists that the human body isn't even that representative of anyone. He uses Viper as an example. Then he uses his arm as an example. Then he worries a lot that you'll take it as an idea and go to Professor Lucius to get your body modified.

No even a question but he would pay for any surgery you'd want to have, if you want to have it, and get actually good doctors.

[mythicalmyles]

Toby x male reader but red riding hood au please 🥺🥺

(Toby is a werewolf he has ears nd a tail! reader is a ram w horns ears nd a tail)

(Noncon, predator/pray, bottom!sub!male!reader, size difference, aob dynamics, heat cycles)

A gentle smile took over your features, your reflection staring back at you as you adjusted your hood. The red suited your skin tone well, popping against it. Your fingers hosted the edge of your hood, the silky velour a comforting feeling. It hadn't been as cold as previous days so you donned a red tartan skirt with white lace detailing on the sides, like a corset. Despite being a man you loved dressing up, thankful for your families lack of care.

Black thigh high socks clung to your legs, white bows threaded through the top. A long sleeved black shirt was wrapped around your body, slightly loose and baggy. You tucked a small section into the front of the skirt, taking the time to check yourself out.

You felt slightly uncomfortable having the fabric dragging against your tail but you pushed those feelings away, too happy with how you looked to care about your comfortability. You took one more look before nodding and smiling.

You quickly made your way to the lobby in order to get your shoes, choosing black and white high top sneakers. After that you made your way to the kitchen, grabbing the basket your mother had packed before leaving. You didn't bother looking through your goods, content that your mother had packed everything your grandmother would need.

You checked out your outfit again quickly before swinging open your door and exiting, the cool air hit your face causing you to shiver. The cold bit at your ears despite being protected by clothing. You had mistaken the weather, you sighed but you pushed forward, your grandmother would need the goods even if it was freezing.

It wasn't long into your walk before the snow began, it fell in clumps from the sky and sunk into your clothes. It went from a couple of flurries to almost completely blocking your vision, the mess of whit blobs in your vision was making it harder and harder to walk. You wrapped your arms tight around your mid section, trying to stop the out poor of heavy breath's that flowed from you.

You could suddenly see a building appearing in front of you, without another thought you ran to the door. You brought up a hand to knock on the door, surprised once it swung open revealing a dilapidated cabin. Glass was all over the floor along with bits and pieces of the roof and walls. It was a mess and you were pretty sure you'd have to make a Doctors appointment once you could leave.

Despite a few windows being smashed, the building was lucky enough to stop you freezing to death. You pulled over a broken down table and pushed it against the door, hoping it'd stop it from swinging open again.

You stood back, rubbing your hands together for warmth. You began to walk towards the closest door, hoping for a blanket that had been left behind. Instead once you opened the door you were smacked in the face with a certain smell, eyes widening in horror once you realised what it was. Someone was in a rut.

Your (E/C) eyes locked with brown, a dark glare being sent your way. "I-I'm so so-sorry." You stuttered out before turning and bolting for the door, cold be damned. Before you had even made it back past the threshold you were tackled roughly onto the floor, you could feel various bits of debris sinking into your skin. You froze, his breathing heavy in your ear. He sounded like a dog that had just ran for miles as he panted in your ear.

For a moment it was as if time had frozen, his body felt heavy against your back, keeping you pinned in place. You could hear him sniffing you, taking in your scent. Your brain felt like it was going a thousand miles a minute, the reality of the situation sinking in. You didn't understand how you could miss the smell, you should've known the moment you walked in that an alpha was in a rut.

It was a comforting smell, you tried your best to push it out of your mind but the smell of burnt caramel singed your nose hairs. "What's a pr-pretty little thing lik-like you doing a-a-Fuck!-Alone!" The sudden anger in his voice threw you off, your body shaking with panic. He hummed into your ear, pushing your bodies closer together. "Pl-please don't hurt me." Your voice was barley a whisper as you spoke.

He chuckled and buried his nose into your hair before he flipped you over so he could see your face. Your eye's widened as you locked eyes, silence flowing between the two of you. Two dark brown fluffy ears with cream on the insides sat on top of his head, sending more fear through you. While illegal it didn’t stop a lot of carnivores from eating herbivores.

“Wha-whats this? A little ram lo-lost from the herd?” He joked with a dark smirk, dark eyes staring into yours. You closed your eyes tight, fighting the fear that was determined to build inside of you. You jolted when his hand landed on your stomach, his large hands making their way under your jumper and up to your chest. His fingers wasted no time in playing with your nipple, circling the growing bud as you desperately held your mouth shut.

Despite your best efforts you couldn’t hold back your whines when he pulled up your jumper to latch onto your nipple. His tongue was rough against your flesh, you tried to ignore how good it felt. His smell alone was enough to overwhelm you, his actions had you losing your lat grasp on sanity.

“You can ca-call me toby.” His voice was husky and deep, his stutter and ticks didn’t seem to hold him back at all.

His hand wrapped around the back of your head, allowing him to pull you into a deep kiss. He made his way between your legs, hands roaming your body. You found yourself kissing him back, letting his tongue into your mouth. You expected him to taste like blood, instead mint assaulted your senses. It was a welcome surprise. Toby suddenly pulled away, sitting up and taking you with him. You looked at him, mouth open to take in the air you missed out on from the kiss. Toby’s saliva dripped down your chin, Toby went feral in that moment, the sight of you was almost enough to have him bursting a load. Instead his hands grabbed your ass, pulling you closer to him as he reconnected your lips. It wasn’t long before his hands had weaselled down your pants, grabbing your ass and squeezing the flesh. Any thoughts of fighting him had long since left your mind, swept up in heat of Toby.

Toby slid his middle finger into you without much resistance, slurping up every whine and moan that tried to escape from you. It didn’t hurt as much as you expected, heat bloomed in your stomach once he began fucking you with his digit.

Toby pulled away from the kiss, smirking as he slipped another finger into you and tearing a guttural moan from you. He roughly scissored his fingers into you, stretching you open. Toby used his other hand to grab your ass, spreading you so he could get his fingers deeper. Your chin rested on his shoulder, almost sobbing as he restlessly attacked your prostate. Your hands had wound themselves into his jumper, almost ripping the fabric. Toby had three fingers in you before he pulled out, pushing you back onto the floor.

He he grabbed your thighs, pushing them upto your chest. He was very thankful you were thoughtful enough to wear a skirt for him, easy access. He used his forearm to keep your thighs pinned to you, his other hand wrapped around his clock and began guiding it into you. You panicked once you finally got a look at his clock, there was no way it'd fit. "Your taking it wh-whe-whether it fits or n-not." You shook your head, trying to escape. Toby pushed down harder on you, limiting your movement further.

"You're g-gonna be a goo-good boy for me."Was all he muttered before pushing his clock into you, you pleaded with him once more stopping once the head of his cock finally pushed into you. You practically sobbed as he buried himself into you, smirking down at you as you lost your mind.

You were full blown crying by the time he bottomed out, utterly overwhelmed with the feeling of being stuffed. His first thirst pulled a loud yelp out of you, gritting your teeth.

Toby began mouthing against your neck, his sharp canines a horrifying reminder of just what he could do to you if he wanted. Toby's hands harshly gripped your thighs, using you as leverage to thrust deep into your guts. One of your hands clawed desperately at the floor, loudly moaning everytime his clock slammed into your prostate.

It wasn't long before you felt an orgasm building up, Toby's thrusts fucking every thought out of your head except for him. "Wa-wait! Too much!" You shouted out, twisting as your orgasm began crashing through you. You could feel cuts against your back stinking from the shards of glass on the floor, all you could do was moan weakly as he continued jack hammering into you.

Toby trusted a few more times before pushing as deep as he could into you, filling you with his cum. " Tha-thats it pretty b-boy. Take it.” He muttered, smirking down at you.

The door swinging open stole both of your attention, three large masked men stood in the door staring at you.

“Well. I didn’t expect this.” A deep voice muttered in jovial tone.

[eringobragh420]

🖤 Pairing — Seth Rollins ♥︎ f!OC 🖤 Summary — Seth believes he's doing the right thing. (Part 2/?) 1 | 2 🖤 Word Count — 3.1k 🛑 Warnings — Attempted suicide, depression, infidelity, hospital setting 18+ 🖤 Taglist — If you'd like to be added, please click here! 🖤 MASTERLIST

Violet

Every time she moved, the uncomfortable vinyl chair squeaked, but it was a welcomed change, however brief, from the incessant beeping of the machine monitoring Seth’s heart rate. Six days later, and he was at the point where he appeared as though he were merely sleeping—his color had mostly returned from the pallid shade he’d been discovered in, he’d been given sponge baths, and the nurse had allowed Violet to gently brush his hair before twisting it into a bun the way he liked it and tying it in place with the very elastic band he’d been using that day, tears streaming down her face through the entire process. His long, beautiful lashes rested on his cheeks, and his fiancée had also been permitted to trim his beard, sobbing during this action as well. 

He could have been sleeping.

But he wasn’t.

She’d been sad then. She was angry now. And she would be sad again in a day or two—a vicious cycle she was slowly getting used to. How could he do this? Why? Things had been going so well, or, she supposed, she thought they’d been going well. Seth had smiled and laughed and held her and kissed her and made love to her just as he normally did in the weeks leading up to that day. She’d never once suspected he was thinking about trying to kill himself, and neither had any of the friends or family or coworkers she’d interrogated—if Seth wasn’t going to give her any answers, she’d have to find someone who would, however utterly irrational a decision this was. No one knew what had been going through Seth’s mind but Seth, and he was in a coma. 

He was recovering, the doctors assured her, though it was a slow process, and of course they couldn’t be one hundred percent sure he’d ever wake up again. His brain function had improved after several medications, oxygen, and sedation, and she’d been told his recovery was rather astonishing given how much poison he’d ingested. But, as someone with no medical background, she witnessed no advancement—just her sleeping, depressed, suicidal fiancé, dressed in a generic hospital gown, several IVs inserted into veins in both his arms. The medical team couldn’t be sure if any coma patient was able to hear the outside world, but they encouraged her to talk to him anyway. The first few days had been full of weeping and begging and pouring her heart out to him with no response. 

“I have an appointment tomorrow,” she softly spoke. She’d turned the chair around so she could face Seth and hold his hand, both of which she was doing now. One hand under his, the other on top, and he was so warm and she recognized all his fingers and all his lines, but his muscles were lifeless. She never thought she could miss someone squeezing her hand so much. The head of his bed had been lifted, and she’d assisted the nurse in making sure he at least looked comfortable on his pillow and under the scratchy blanket and sheet. “It’s my first ultrasound.” Tears trickled down her cheeks. “I was gonna—” She sniffed, flicking the tears away quickly so she could return her hand to Seth’s.  “I was gonna wrap it up and give it to you for Valentine’s Day.” More tears. “Damn it, Seth.” She doubled over, forehead on her hand, and it was one of those moments where she couldn’t breathe. 

Would he be around to see his child grow up? If he survived, what sort of quality of life would he have? Had she really kissed him for the last time? Suddenly she couldn’t remember what his voice sounded like. She’d have to pull up the videos of him on her phone so she could refresh her otherwise concussed brain. 

A knock at the sliding glass door, and she didn’t acknowledge it for a long moment.

“Vi?”

She inhaled deeply, again brushing the salty tears from her cheeks, as well as her chin and neck. She sat up, automatically searching Seth’s unbothered face for any changes, even the most subtle ones, but there was nothing. Still sleeping. So beautiful. “What?” she rasped, then cleared her throat. 

“How’s he—” 

“He’s the same, Hunter.” 

Triple H entered the room, likely knowing he wouldn’t receive an answer either way if he asked. Violet smelled his cologne—another embraced change from the stinging antiseptic scent of the entire hospital. Even the cafeteria. He stood on the opposite side of Seth’s bed, huge hands resting on the safety rail. “Have they said anything—?” 

“Hunter, I promise, if he wakes up, I’ll let you know. If the doctors say anything different than what they’ve been saying for the past week, I’ll let you know.” 

“I’m sorry, I—” 

“Just,” Violet interrupted, lifting her hand from Seth’s to rub her forehead. “I’m sorry.” She sighed. “This is an angry day.”

Hunter shrugged and swatted a hand. “Don’t apologize. I can’t imagine what you’re going through.” She nodded—she hardly knew what she was going through. “I just hope you know how much I care about both of you.”

Violet sniffed, watching Seth inhale, exhale, features so soft and serene and perfect. Could he hear them right now? “I know,” she replied.

“That being said—” 

“You son of a bitch,” Violet chuckled dryly, shaking her head. 

“It’s not my idea, but I promised I’d present it.” 

“Let me save you some time.” She glared up at him. “I’m not going on television, and you’re not mentioning him on television. Anything else?” 

“We just wanna give you time—” 

“Hunter.” 

Her boss held up a hand. “We just wanna give you some time to update the fans. You can say whatever you wanna say. You have carte blanche.” 

“No thanks.”

Hunter’s smile was sympathetic, and Violet wanted to curb stomp him for herself and her fiancé. She squeezed Seth’s hand still resting in hers, her heart crumbling as she again received no response. “Obviously you can do what you want. But let me just say one thing.” Violet sighed, nodded. “A lot of these fans grew up with Seth. And you. And what happened effected them, too.  Hell, some of them call you two their parents.” Tears brimmed once more, her gaze locked on Seth. Parents. “And you have kids—” He incorporated air quotes. “—in NXT.” Kids. 

It came out before she knew it was happening. “I’m pregnant, Hunter.” Her boss’s mouth clamped shut and his grip tightened on the safety rail. 

“Did Seth—” Violet shook her head, the tears accumulating before now freely falling. “Vi, I don’t—” 

“If I promise to think about going on TV, will you leave?”

Hunter chewed on his bottom lip as he rounded the foot of Seth’s hospital bed. He placed a heavy, but comforting, hand on her shoulder. She knew he was just doing his job, but that didn’t make his reason for coming burn any less. It seemed like everyone wanted to know how Seth was doing for their own selfish reasons, not because they truly cared about him. 

“If there’s anything at all either of you need …” 

“Thanks.” Hunter patted her shoulder and finally made his exit. Taking a deep breath, she tried calming her nerves and focusing her attention back on her comatose fiancé, but she was successful in only one of her quests. “Did you get all that?” she asked, not expecting an answer. “I know on one hand he’s right—they do deserve to know. But it’s also none of their business and they should respect our privacy. I don’t know what to do.” She searched Seth’s worry-free face. “So you have to come back to me, okay?” The tears were forming once more. “I can’t do this on my own.” She collapsed into sobs, body wracked with shudders as she gasped and sucked in oxygen between wails. “I can’t do it, Seth.” 

Seth 

“I can’t do it, Seth.”

Seth’s brows furrowed and, although he knew he was alone, he turned to inspect the living area of the hotel room. No one stood behind him, especially not his fiancée, whose voice he swore he’d just heard. Shrugging, he returned his attention to the mirror and finished knotting the black tie at his neck. Finishing that, he smoothed the rest of his tuxedo over his fit body, smiling proudly at his reflection, the gap between his two top front teeth on full display. He was finally marrying Violet Lockhart, the absolute love of his life, the most beautiful woman in the world. He didn’t know how he’d gotten so lucky, but he was eternally grateful to whomever may have had a hand in their courtship.

The locking mechanism on the door beeped and turned, and Seth watched as Roman, Mox, and Hunter entered the room, all speaking at the same time, each of them somehow understanding the other two. Seth chuckled, brushing his hair, then attempting to twist it into its normal bun while three grown men punched him playfully in the stomach, ribbing him like children about how his life was over since he was getting married. The Architect’s eyes narrowed, unable to ignore how much these guys actually were acting like kids, and when the hell had he asked Triple H to be a groomsman? He didn’t necessarily remember asking any of them, but at least Roman and Mox made some sense—Hunter was his boss, and the two weren’t particularly close.

The door beeped again, and Seth’s mahogany eyes switched to the entrance as Chelsea Green, one of Violet’s closest friends and maid of honor, seemingly floated over the threshold in a gown of gorgeous malachite. 

“It’s time,” she sang, gently clapping her hands together. 

Following her, Seth checked the inner pocket of his suit jacket for the rings, finding them tucked safely away, and he considered handing them to Roman or Mox, as he’d been instructed to do, but at the last moment, left them where they were. He was suddenly petrified of losing them. Chelsea glanced at him over her shoulder, smiling warmly, and she threw open a pair of floor-to-ceiling doors to reveal a magnificent church. Seth’s brows again knitted together, and he looked over his own shoulder to see exactly where he’d just come from, but the doors closed, and somehow he knew they wouldn’t open again. They weren’t supposed to get married in a church—it’s not what Violet wanted. As his eyes searched the various religious statues and stained glass windows, he dug through his brain files for where they had decided to tie the knot, but he couldn’t find it. The church wasn’t right, though he had no idea what was. 

“Wait,” he said, “are you sure—” 

“You stand up there,” Chelsea instructed, smile still sparkling, gesturing to the altar. “She’s on her way.”

Seth nodded. “Yeah, but—”

Chelsea drifted away, and Seth’s stomach knotted, an icy grip of foreboding squeezing his heart, making it difficult to breathe, causing his brain to throb. His legs carried him to the altar without his consent, locking him in place, and he was frozen to the floor as guests made their way inside and to their seats. Everyone moved in sync—their steps, turning into the correct pews, staring at him. An air of unease blanketed the church, and Seth gulped.

“You good?” Roman asked, standing beside him.

Seth shook his head. “Something’s wrong,” he said. 

“Nah,” Roman smiled, placing a huge, heavy arm around Seth’s shoulders. “Everything’s alright.”

Seth followed Roman’s pointed finger to the doors he’d come through moments before, smile slowly splitting his lips. Violet now stood there, her bronze hair curled and hanging past her shoulders, makeup pristine, and her gown was—Seth’s growing smile began to fall—black. It hugged her curves, fanning out at her legs, a long train dragging behind her as she approached. The cathedral veil she wore was also black, and Seth racked his brain again for a memory of his fiancée mentioning wanting a black wedding dress, but he came up empty-handed. 

“We’re gathered here today—”

A holy man appeared without warning beside Seth, and then Violet was standing in front of him, and he was positive something strange was happening. He just couldn’t figure out what it was. Everything seemed right, but were terribly wrong. Was he dead? Had he fallen into an alternate universe? But his fiancée was indescribably gorgeous, and he was finally marrying her after everything they’d been through—everything he’d put her through—and if things were a little off, then so be it. Whose wedding day was actually perfect? 

“I love you,” Violet whispered, gazing up at him as if he held the answer to life itself. 

“I love you, too,” Seth replied, squeezing her hands. 

“If there’s anyone present who believes these two should not be wed, please speak now, or forever hold your peace.”

Neither Seth nor Violet expected an answer from their guests, maintaining eye contact with one another, their hands exchanging squeezes. 

“I object.”

Violet’s mismatching eyes rounded, Seth feeling his do the same, and all the air left his lungs in a rush. The church was eerily quiet—no coughing, shuffling, children crying, or family members sobbing. He knew the voice that had spoken up, and he was sure Violet didn’t, though she certainly knew why the woman had interrupted. Seth licked his lips, chewing on the bottom one a moment before he slowly turned to look at the woman as she stood from her pew in the middle of the others. Seth swallowed again, instantly recognizing one of the women he’d cheated on Violet with, her arms crossed over her chest, glaring at him expectantly. 

“Seth,” Violet muttered. 

“It’s okay,” Seth said. He turned back to his soon-to-be-wife to find tears and mascara dripping down her otherwise immaculate face. “Honey—” 

“I object.”

Seth’s head whipped back to the guests to find another woman standing, another one of his flings. And then another. And another. And another. “No,” he mumbled. “This isn’t … This can’t be real.” 

“Did you fuck all these girls?” Mox asked, and who the fuck was he to judge Seth’s mistakes? 

“No!” Seth snapped. “I mean … yeah, I did, but I didn’t—” 

“And you invited all of them?” Roman asked. 

“No!” Seth yelled, glaring over his shoulder at the Samoan, who had a hand over his laughing mouth. “Fuck you, Reigns.” 

“I wouldn’t be worried about me, brother,” Roman said, pointing.

Seth followed his finger, his own ocher eyes widening at the new scene before him. Violet, the woman who’d saved his life, in the gigantic arms of his boss, Hunter. Her body quivered, and her cries echoed off the intricate decorations and statues. Hunter’s eyes slid to Seth and the comforting smirk behind his beard was laced with lethality, and he winked at the younger man. 

“No, no, no,” Seth breathed, hands clutching his suddenly pounding head. “Something’s wrong.”

Violet’s arms dropped from around Hunter’s neck, her body seeming to move on autopilot as she turned to face Seth. Her eyes were vacant, utterly devoid of life and love and happiness and excitement—dead. “Something is wrong, Seth,” she deadpanned. “And it’s your fault.” 

“What else is new?” Hunter chucked. 

“Seth did something wrong? I’m shocked,” Roman chimed in. 

“Hey, Seth,” Mox hollered. “Are you done with this girl? Thought I might try her out.”

Seth shook his head, trying to block everyone and everything out of his mind. “I have to be dreaming,” he said to himself. “That’s all. Just a dream.” 

“No, Seth,” Violet said. “We had dreams.” More tears, but her tears were black now, sludge, thick. “You turned them into nightmares.” 

“How do I wake up?” Seth squeaked, slapping his head, pinching his cheeks. “I have to wake up.”

Violet grabbed his face, clutching his now sore cheeks, and she was beautiful again—makeup was pristine, tears dried, complexion free of the ooze from before. But the dread in her eyes was overwhelming, and Seth collapsed to his ruined knees under the weight of it, her hands never relinquishing their grip. “You’re not waking up, Seth. You’re gonna be here forever.”

Seth blinked. His surroundings melted, disappeared, rebuilt. When his eyes opened again, he was standing in front of the hotel mirror, tying his tie. The lock on the door clicked and beeped, and Roman, Mox, and Hunter entered. Seth’s heart stopped. 

“No.”

TAGLIST: @southerngirl41 @femdisa @riverina69 @rollinssection @paramedicnerd004 @mandmilovehim @brianochka @yourmommyagone22 @sweetmoonlove0214 @partypoison00 @missbmc94 @lils2795 @aureliacorvina @magicalbuttertarts @madimcg14 @thealliasylum @lov3rla03 @plaidpajamallama @princesstiti14 @deansimpala @princessesareforsuckers

[doldulce]

You know a feature I'd love to see added to DoL one day? Body piercing.

The simplest implementation would be to simply add the ability to get piercings at the tattoo shop, and then have it be an aesthetic thing for your character that you buy. I could imagine taking out a piercing and leaving it without jewelry for a certain period of time would make the hole close up.

But the thought that excites me most is having piercing be a combat mechanic NPCs could use on you. (Mockups below, first 2 are a set)

Forced piercing would leave you with starter jewlery, which you could swap out with cooler versions if desired. I think it'd especially be fun if certain types of body jewelry could be interacted with, such as nipple chains being tugged on (could be + Pain and/or + Arousal depending on if it were a consensual encounter or not).

I think certain LIs would also love to give you a piercing, or ask you to pierce them. Many fun ways to utilize the mechanic. I'm rolling this around in my head forever.

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

so im listening to the potd audio commentary and jodie's talking about covid restrictions and filming flux and how the restrictions were more intense at the start of filming (was that end of 2020/start of 2021?) and she says "by the time we finished, we could hug" and damn they took that opportunity didnt they

[audacious-unicorn]

Listen. Listen, guys. Without going into CAM scams because I definitely won't do as well as OP, here's what you can do: Just trust doctors or licensed medical professionals before you just start buying random alternative remedies at home. For no other reason than just basic, legal sense. If you don't trust the doctor you have, for whatever reason, ask for a second opinion. That is your right as a patient seeking care.

Doctors aren't as incentivized to just sell you out to big pharma as you'd think, and not nearly as incentivized as third-party, alternative health gurus to make money. If you don't like something you were prescribed, if its having adverse effects, if its not helping you - tell your doctor. They'll try to find something else for you. If there's medications you don't want to be on for one reason or another, you can communicate that to them.

I have chronic pain, mental health, and breathing issues. I've seen a number of doctors across a number of states, and have never been denied a medication switch unless it interfered with my insurance which at that point, is out of my doctors hands. They still work with me to find alternatives that fit my needs. A good PCP also has incentive to check in with you and see how you're doing.

Licensed medical professionals have the fear of losing their whole ass license and have a much higher risk of being held accountable if they fuck something up. Gurus and people that push shit like cordyceps are literally only selling a product. That's their whole purpose. To sell you something. It doesn't matter if it works. A lot of the time, it does not. You can buy lemon and ginger for less than 5 bucks. Why spend 50 because its in a nice little bottle?

Yes, big pharma is a fucking scam. They still can't sell you untested bullshit. At least, not easily. These dipshits can, and they rarely face actual repercussions.

Please, trust professionals. They clock in, and clock out like the rest of us. Like if you're someone who doesn't want to go to a doctor because they're only paid to sell you shit, definitely don't go to the people who literally only make money by selling you shit.

I just got served an ad on a mobile game that linked to a 45-minute video for a "breathing remedy" and the video is *such* a comprehensive collection of CAM manipulation and lies that I'm considering transcribing it to break down how CAM sales tactics work.

[canisalbus]

What?? Why on Earth would they bloodlet Machete when he's already anemic?

Anemia wasn't discovered until 1852, so his physicians have no idea. He's just moody and achy and visibly unwell and bloodletting happens to be the cure-for-all fix at the time.

I don't think I'm exaggerating when I say it was one of the most used treatments in western medicine from ancient Greece to 19th century (and even earlier than that in Egypt, for example). There weren't many ailments that a little bit of breathing a vein wouldn't alleviate, supposedly. This whole concept is based on humoral theory which is a fascinating cornerstone of medical history and also completely unfounded nonsense, look it up if you haven't, it's interesting. People believed that blood didn't circulate through the body, it was created, used up and then the bad blood would stagnate in the extremities. Having too much blood would disturb your humoral balance and create illnesses so removing it was beneficial to your wellbeing. Even completely healthy people would sometimes go get themselves bled a bit just to be sure.

You kind of need blood for your body to function so this treatment was completely pointless at best and life threatening at worst. If you were sick to begin with it would only weaken you further (and expose you to potential infections, which in the absence of antibiotics, wasn't great). The only viable use for it would have to be rare blood disorders where your body produces too many red blood cells, like polycythemia vera, essentially the polar opposite of anemia.

[muirmarie]

thinking about if tos mccoy had died before romulus was destroyed, tos spock could've been carrying his not-quite-a-katra during the events of the aos movies

[theladyfae]

the lazarus experiment / her island, rita dove

[lenievi]

(DC Comics February 1995, issue 68)

[anastacialy]

the fuckin irony of watching dot and bubble today, laughing a bit at lindy when she can't walk around without the arrows, and then ending up dropping a bunch of things, making loud clattering sounds, and running into things because i don't have my cell phone in my hand