#as in: doctors know something is wrong but not what

[covenofagatha]

your stories are so good! Can’t wait for the next part of sugar spice and everything nice! If you’re still taking requests could you do one where reader is Agatha’s wife who’s found out she’s pregnant and accidentally tells her when they’re in the middle fucking and it makes Agatha even hornier? Thank you again!!

I had fun with this one so hopefully you all enjoy it too!

Knocked up and turned on

You find out you're pregnant and you aren't sure how to tell your wife, Agatha

Word count: 1600+

Warnings: pregnancy, pregnancy sex, girl penis Agatha, cum, creampie, slight breeding kink, sex, mommy kink

Looking back now, it all makes sense. 

Your breasts were tender. You were craving cheese and pickles a lot. You had thrown up twice this week. 

And your period was over a week late. 

Okay, yes, you probably should’ve figured it out sooner. 

But looking at the two bold lines on the pregnancy test, you figured there was no time like the present. 

While you weren’t exactly sure how it had happened as you were on birth control, you are overjoyed at first. A little you running around, a baby to spoil that would grow into an adorable toddler and then soon enough you’re driving them to their first sports match or dance recital or whatever they wanted. 

You even found yourself drifting to baby names. 

Then your thoughts turned to your wife. You knew Agatha had a rough childhood sponsored by her mother and she had always shied away from the topic of children. How are you going to tell her?

You could bake her something nice? Maybe buy little baby booties and box them up for her to open? You could always sit her down by the fireplace and pour a glass of wine – only for her, of course – and tell her the news. 

Nothing seemed right though, and you were worried as to how Agatha would react. 

Who says you have to tell her though?

Deep down you know it’s wrong, but you want to keep holding onto the secret for a little bit longer and just let it be you and your baby. You know it’s selfish and you know Agatha deserves to know, but you’ll tell her eventually. Once you figure out the timing. 

Or…you bring her along to a doctor’s routine check up so the two of you can “find out” together. 

You like that plan. 

You’re on the website trying to make an appointment when Agatha gets home. 

“Hey, hon,” she says, dropping her keys and coming to kiss your forehead. “Everything okay?” You glance up at her to find her looking at the computer screen. 

“Oh, yeah, just thought I’d go do one of the routine things, you know. You should probably do one too, when’s the last time you went to the doctor?” You ramble when you’re nervous. The words are on the tip of your tongue and you have to keep talking so you don’t accidentally blurt it out. “Maybe we can go together!”

She snorts, not choosing to indulge in whatever you’re being weird about, and walks away. You turn to call after her to ask what she wants for dinner because you’re already starving but your breath catches in your throat. 

There’s something about the way her hips are swaying that has you getting wet. You suddenly feel more aware of everything. 

“Agatha,” you croak. She stops in the doorway of your bedroom and turns to face you, putting a hand up on the wall. A very veiny hand. Your mouth goes dry and all you can think about is those fingers around your throat. 

And then you take in the rest of her outfit. A purple sweater rolled up to her forearms and the black pants that hug her ass so nicely. Her messy bun with strands of hair framing her beautiful face. 

She must see the look on your face because she smirks and starts slowly walking toward you. 

“Again, baby? You’ve been so horny lately,” she remarks and your face flushes more than it should. That should’ve been another clue. Your wife isn’t wrong; four out of the five last days you practically begged her to fuck you. You couldn’t get enough of her fingers, mouth, and cock and you had so much more stamina. 

“Is that a bad thing?” You counter and she chuckles, getting close enough so she can pull you in for a kiss. Her tongue slides into your mouth and you think you might be dripping already. 

Her fingers dip to your waistband but you stop her hand. 

“Just want your cock please, baby,” you beg. You suddenly feel so empty and you just need her to fill you up. 

“I need to make sure you’re ready then,” she says, hand moving into your sweatpants and cupping you over your underwear. You can tell the moment she realizes just how wet you are because you watch her jaw slacken and lust cloud in her eyes. “Fuck, doll, what have you been thinking about all day?” 

“You, mommy,” you breathe and kiss her again. Not technically a lie but you’re not sure if it’s such a good idea to tell her that the reason you’re so horny at the drop of a hat is because you’re pregnant. You don’t stop kissing her as you walk her backwards until she hits the couch. 

You push her down and immediately straddle her, grinding on her rapidly hardening length through her pants. 

“Fuck baby, you’re so hot,” Agatha moans, hands finding their spot on your waist and helping you. “You’re so desperate.” 

“Desperate for you,” you agree breathlessly, reaching down to undo her pants and pull her length out. You have to get out of her lap for a second to wriggle out of your pants but you don’t even bother with your underwear before getting back on top of her. 

Agatha reaches down to move your underwear to the side and line her tip at your entrance, and you do the rest. 

Your mouth drops open in a silent moan and Agatha’s eyes roll back in her head as you begin to move down on her. She feels so fucking good inside you, filling you just how you need. You don’t move for a bit once you completely bottom out, just feeling her throb in you. 

“God, you’re so perfect, mommy,” you groan, slowly starting to roll your hips, just grinding on her. Agatha’s breathing has increased and grown heavier, not able to hide the effect you’re having on her either. 

You begin to lift up and then back down, her tip hitting your spot with every thrust. It’s embarrassing how close you are already. 

Your wife’s thumb comes down to circle your clit and it slides easily with your wetness. You moan and start riding her faster. 

“God, baby, you feel so good around me,” Agatha pants, watching your pussy stretched out around her. “Taking mommy so well, wanna fill you up.” Her fingernails dig into your hips and use it to pound up into you. 

And for some reason, the words just spill out of your mouth. 

“I’m pregnant.” 

Agatha freezes mid-thrust and you can’t help but clench around her, needing the lost stimulation. 

“What?” She says. “Did you just say that you’re pregnant?” 

You take a deep breath and nod. Obviously not the ideal way to have this conversation with her cock still buried to the hilt inside of you, but this is how it’s happening. “I found out today.” 

Agatha’s breath stutters and you’re worried about what she’s going to say until you feel her pulse inside you. 

“Fuck,” Agatha says, a flush spreading across her neck and up to her cheeks. She grabs your hair and yanks you in for a filthy kiss. Before you can ask if everything’s okay, she flips you on your back on the couch and starts fucking you with renowned vigor. 

“Agatha,” you cry, hips raising to meet every thrust. Small sounds are falling out of both of your mouths and you see her smiling above you. 

“I got you pregnant,” she says like she can’t believe it. “That’s so fucking hot, doll, I filled you up so well that we’re going to have a baby.” 

“Mommy, gonna cum,” you choke out, rubbing your clit and feeling her rhythm stutter as you clench deliciously around her. 

“Me too, baby, I’m going to cum inside you,” she groans, sloppily kissing you. 

“Maybe you can knock me up again,” you say and it’s mostly a joke but you don’t miss the way her hips jerk in a particularly rough thrust. It feels so good. “You like that, mommy? Want to breed me some more?” There’s no denying the effect those words have on your wife and you make a mental note to file that away for later.

“Fuck, yes, baby, I’m cumming,” Agatha moans and the feeling of her cock pulsing and then the thick warmth spreading inside you triggers your own orgasm. 

You both ride it out together and once you come down from your highs, Agatha sags down on top of you, just holding you close. You stroke her sweaty hair and she presses light kisses to your cheek. 

You can feel her cock slowly softening in you and when it finally slips out, so does a gush of her cum. Your hips shift at the feeling and Agatha gets off you to shove your legs open to observe the mess. 

With a wicked grin, she runs her fingers up your slit, collecting the cum, and fucks it back into you with two fingers. Your head lolls back against the couch and she quickly gets you to another orgasm with her hand and the knowledge that she’s pushing her seed back in. 

After, she gets a warm towel and cleans you up and then pulls you into a hug. 

“I can’t believe we’re going to have a baby,” she whispers into your ear. “I can’t wait.” 

“Me neither, Aggie. God, I love you so much.” You kiss her softly. 

“I love you too, baby. You’re going to be such a great mom.” 

You smile and run a hand through her hair. “You are too.” And then a thought crosses your mind and you can’t help but giggle. “Soon I won’t be the only one around here calling you mommy.” 

Agatha rolls her eyes fondly and kisses you again to shut you up. 

[rancidslime]

Hold on I'd actually love to talk about Archie comics and the forces behind Riverdale for a second because they're legitimately fascinating.

So, before we talk about why Riverdale's so bonkers, we gotta talk about Kevin Keller. Archie's cast and those of its spinoffs being thrown into Situations of wildly differing tone and periods is a time-honored classic of the series, but that started to mean more than just "here's a story about the gang finding out what kissing is in prehistoric times" after the successful introduction of Kevin in 2010. For those who may not know, Kevin was the first openly gay character in the Archie comics, and his release was kind of a huge deal - Archie had always been seen as this squeaky-clean symbol of (white) Americana, so something like that happening in the new 10's - to fucking Archie - was legitimately groundbreaking. (He's since been followed up with characters like Toni Topaz and Eliza Han, but Kev was the first.)

Remember, Archie is the kids' comic book in America, for better or worse. Superhero comics can vary wildly in tone and intended audience, but if a parent grabs their kid an Archie comic from the shelf at a grocery store, they basically know what they're getting and don't have to worry about someone's neck getting ripped out on-panel. Getting something like Kevin in the "safest" comic short of Family Circus was kind of a watershed moment.

(As an aside: some have pointed out that Kevin isn't a terribly interesting character, being something of a masc everyman All-American Boy™, but I would argue that that's basically all Archie is, and at a time where all the "gay representation" kids were getting were horrible caricatures of fem men as envisioned by straight people, whitebread masc guy Kevin is kind of exactly what the doctor ordered. I would go so far as to argue that presenting this gay teen as unquestionably part of the gang, slotting into Archie's idealized 50's aesthetics perfectly, was one of the best moves they could have made for the era and surrounding climate. This was a time when "Gay men are just as capable of performing masculinity as straight men" was a legitimately transgressive statement. I'm a Kevin apologist. A Kevin defender.)

So, Kevin's release is huge. He's very popular with kids and adults alike, to the point where his introductory comic and miniseries sell out faster than any other Archie comic in history. He got his own spinoff within two years. People love Kevin.

So what does this have to do with Riverdale, beyond Kevin being a character in it? Well, Kevin Keller proves to the leads behind Archie that modernizing the series has the potential to be very lucrative indeed, and this is where Archie starts to get shockingly experimental. (Relatively speaking, anyway.) The new 10's see the release of Life With Archie: The Married Life, (a dual-timeline soap opera exploration of his married life with either Betty or Veronica) Afterlife with Archie, (a zombie story incited by Sabrina trying to bring Jughead's dog back after he was struck by a car) and of course, the infamous Chilling Adventures of Sabrina. (This one got a Netflix adaptation, but in case you need the cliff's notes, basically it's Sabrina the Teenage Witch only the witches get the power from worshiping Satan.)

These series were also well-received. Enter Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa, the guy behind the aforementioned Afterlife with Archie. After the success of the title, he was made Chief Creative Officer, and he's also the showrunner of Riverdale, and here is the reason Riverdale is Like That.

So while Riverdale is undoubtedly an incredibly weird cultural object, I think a lot of people who aren't familiar with the show or franchise get the wrong idea about it. I think the biggest point of confusion among onlookers is "How in on the bit is Riverdale?" and I would respond: extremely. Are you kidding? Why is there even any doubt about this? Sacasa is a gay guy who got cease-and-desisted for writing a play that reimagined Archie as gay in 2003. This dude got promoted specifically for playing with genre and making Archie weird as Hell back when it used to be considered a dull, whitebread relic. You think shit like the "I'm weird. I'm a weirdo." speech and "That means that you haven't known the triumphs and defeats, the epic highs and lows of high school football." happened by accident? You think it just stumbled into doing an entire Hedwig and the Angry Inch episode? Oh, no, my friend. That shit was the result of a demented fag writer doing what demented fag writers do best; produce camp masterpieces. Everything about Riverdale is completely intentional.

Now, is it good? No, of course not. It is, however, great fucking television. I don't really watch the show outside of a few isolated episodes, but I am really glad it exists.

Gritty sci-fi webcomic where partway through the third major arc the protagonists get trapped in some sort of utopian false reality by a mysterious godlike being, except they never escape and the comic just changes genres to quirky coffee-shop slice of life until it's unceremoniously cancelled six years later.

[theminecraftbee]

hello second. this week's wildcard got a friend to start reading hgcz and now because of that im back In The Trenches. d. do you have any thoughts. on soup group

Gem thumps her head against the bar and groans. Outside, the 'open' sign is not lit. It is 10 AM, and it is time for neither customers nor villainy. If it were time for customers, Gem would probably be in the secret base in the former-Speakeasy basement (she is, apparently, not suited for customer service). If it were time for villainy, well, Gem would either be there or on the streets, causing the kinds of problems only she and her gun can cause.

No, it is time for none of those things. Instead, it is time for something far worse: paperwork.

"I don't need health insurance!" Gem says. "Or life insurance! Or insurance-insurance! I'm pretty sure I'm like, uninsurable? On account of technically only sort of being a real person? It's not like I can go back to the Farm and go 'oh by the way, I need my birth certificate' now, it's defunct!"

"Everyone needs health insurance," Impulse says gravely.

"No, I don't! We see Doctor Zombie! You know, the black market doctor? The one who half the villains and vigilantes in the city see? I pay her in like, secrets and cadavers, not--"

"Don't admit that, the cops'll get you," Pearl says, throwing a dart at the bar's dartboard.

"You think that's what they're going to arrest me for? Giving dead bodies to the doctor? Because like, man, they're choosing the weirdest crime to finally get me for if so" Gem asks.

"I mean, maybe!" Pearl says.

"None of us are cops and you're getting health insurance. Now choose your most airtight fake ID," Impulse says, and then, seemingly thinking twice about getting trying to get Gem to choose which of her four currently-unburnt fake identities to go with, grabs her wallet and starts going through it himself. She lifts her head from the bar, accepting she's lost this argument.

"My SSN is six," Gem says to him dryly. He rolls his eyes and continues meticulously filling out paperwork. She sighs and turns to Pearl. "Really, can you believe this man? Health insurance! You know, at this rate I'm going to be told I'm a necessary budget cut a second time. And if the identity he chooses gets burnt, you know that'll just lead one of the people hunting us down right back to this bar. Knowing our luck, it'll be Hotguy or Cuteguy. Ugh, imagine."

She expects Pearl to joke back. Instead she's met with Pearl's face, tired and sad and fond all at once.

"Is it really so much to think he just wants to take care of you?" Pearl asks.

Gem listens as, for a moment, the scratch of Impulse's pen against the paper stops. He sighs. A low roll of fog spreads out across the bar. He resumes writing.

"I don't like, need taken care of," Gem says.

Pearl's expression gets a little more exhausted.

"Have you considered that I also want to take care of you? To do something I know--a little impact, while we can? For someone who it won't hurt to give that help to?"

Gem goes silent.

"Think of it as weapons maintenance," Impulse rumbles, and it makes it make sense but before Gem can say so, Pearl stabs one of the darts into the dartboard so hard it rips.

"Stop saying it like that," she says.

"Sorry," Impulse and Gem say at the same time.

"I don't know what I'm going to do with you two," Pearl says. "I'm going to go get the backup. That college group that's real bad at darts normally comes in today."

She stalks to the back of the bar. Gem looks over at Impulse. Impulse looks back. She suspects their expressions are equally apologetic. They're also equally fond, and equally, well...

"You know, sometimes I wonder if she's going to be okay," Impulse says.

"Yeah," Gem says.

"I do actually need an SSN for... Aries Eva?"

"I'll get that for you. It's just--it's not actually the insurance I mind. You sure you want me legally tied to your small business?" Gem asks.

"Why wouldn't I? It's not like she's wrong," Impulse says, and Gem breathes out herself, doesn't comment on the growing fog, and writes down a number. She resolves not to use the health insurance. It's too much of a risk that someone will track it back to these people who think she's worth taking care of.

Still. She supposes it's not that bad to have.

[maddiethedogstories]

The Baby Doctor

Reposting this because it seems to have disappeared from this blog for some reason! Enjoy!

This wasn't supposed to happen! She was never supposed to be here. She was a smart, intelligent, capable woman. She had graduated from medical school for God's sake. But, she had pissed off the wrong nurse. Now, here she was, helplessly her diapers for the entertainment of the whole labor and delivery night shift.

It has been the third week of Dr. Bun's residency. She was on the tail end of a horrendous on-call shift. She was working through her charts and, in her delirium, got sloppy in her attention to detail. She accidentally ordered that one of her patients should be given a deadly amount of pain killers to deal with post-delivery pain.

Luckily for her patient, the doctor supervising the young doctor did not trust her yet. He caught her mistake, fixed it, then tracked down Dr. Bun to give her some aggressive constructive criticism. That's where Dr. Bun fucked up.

Rather then owning her mistake and promising to do better, Dr. Bun deflected the blame onto the nursing staff. Specifically, she alleged the nurse treating the patient, Nurse Angela, must have got in the system and messed up the order. Dr. Bun's supervisor was skeptical, but chose to trust his newest charge. He let the resident off with a warning and went to give the nurse a piece of his mind.

Unfortunately for Dr. Bun, the software the hospital used to treat patients kept careful record of precisely who made what orders. Fortunately for the girl, however, her supervisor had no idea that software has that capability. Nurse Angela, in the other hand, was very aware of it.

A couple of days later, when Dr. Bun was back in the hospital changing into her scrubs for the shift, Nurse Angela walked into the room holding two things--a print out from the record keeping software pinning the deadly medication order on Dr. Bun and a bulky, white adult diaper.

"Dr. Bun, I have a bone to pick with you. You pinned a potentially deadly mistake on me when, both you and I know I had nothing to do with it," Nurse Angela said. "That sort of dishonest, manipulative behavior is something I'd expect from a naughty toddler, not a doctor."

Dr. Bun began to feel upset at being challenged so directly by a person she considered beneath her.

"I didn't lie! You must have screwed up my orders, nurse," Dr. Bun, spitting out the word nurse as if it was the worst epithet imaginable.

Nurse Angela just calming walked up to the young, arrogant doctor and handed her the print out of the record confirming Dr. Bun's mistake.

"That is not what this says. Did you know dishonesty is a fireable offense at this hospital? One that the hospital reports to the medical board as well as any future employers?" Nurse Angela asked rhetorically. The older nurse smiled as the young woman's face dropped.

"I… uh… I'm so sorry! I'll do anything to make this up to you! Anything, just, please, don't tell anyone!" The resident pleaded.

The nurse's grin widened, becoming predatory. She motioned with the white, fluffy object in her other hand.

"Well, like I said Doctor, you've been acting more like a toddler than the responsible adult you are supposed to be. I think you need a reminder of that at all times from now on. Until I decide otherwise, if you want to keep your job here, you will wear and use one of these at all times when you are at work. The hospital's bathrooms are off limits to you, and, like the naughty toddler you are, you are not allowed to change yourself. If you want your wet or messy butt changed, you will have to track down one of the nurses in my labor and delivery unit and convince them to change you, understood?"

The young woman had no idea how to respond to that. Her eyes darted between the document in her hand and the bulky adult diaper being held by the nurse. Thoughts of being fired and her career being ruined darted through her head. She couldn't afford to pay back her student loans if she wasn't working as a doctor.

Backed into a corner, Dr. Bun did the only thing she could. She accepted Nurse Angela's offer.

Dr. Bun immediately found herself changed into the first of what would be many diapers by the nurse in the locker room. The next few weeks were full of humiliation and torment for the doctor as she adjusted to her knew position as the nursing units pet toddler, but, eventually her work days fell into a comfortable pattern.

She would use the restroom just prior to leaving work to minimize the risk of messy 'accidents.' She'd report to work where one of the nurses would help her get dressed for her shift. Then, she would proceed with her day as normal, seeking out a nurse for a change when she felt her diaper get too full.

Yes, it was humiliating to have the waistband of her scrubs pulled back or her crotch squeezed by another woman to have her diaper checked. Yes, it sucked laying on a locker room bench while her ass was wiped by someone she considered her subordinate. However, the human mind was resilient and could get used to anything once it happened enough.

Plus, her new situation has some benefits. She was getting praised by her supervisors for how well she worked with the nursing staff. Plus, not having to run to the bathroom all the time gave her more freedom to care for her patients. After a month as the hospital's diapered doctor, Dr. Bun would actually describe things as going well.

Nurse Angela was happy to see Dr. Bun's turn around, but noticed she was starting to get cocky again. The positive reviews from her supervisors lead her to once again become increasingly condescending towards the nursing staff. So, to remind the young doctor of her position, the nurse made Dr. Bun another offer she couldn't refuse.

That's how the young, professional woman with a medical degree found herself here. Nurse Angela has thrown a special, team building party at her home for all of her fellow labor and delivery nurses. The young doctor was also invited as entertainment.

When Dr. Bun arrived, she was stripped of her adult clothes. She was diapered, put in an childish shirt with padded mittens, and had a pacifier slipped in her mouth. She was instructed she was nothing more than a baby for the evening, not allowed to speak, walk, or care for herself in anyway. Worst of all, a suppository was shoved up her cute little bottom.

A baby blanket was laid in the middle of Nurse Angela's living room and she was instructed to stay on it. As her co-workers arrived and began to surround her, cooing at her like she was an actual baby, the babified doctor's stomach began to rumble and cramp. Once the last guest arrived, she couldn't take it anymore. Tears of embarrassment running down her face, Dr. Bun got onto all fours, sticking her diapered ass into the air as a wet fart escaped her butt cheeks.

Nurse Angela looked down and smiled. She drew everyone's attention to the scene. "Look everyone, I think the baby's about to make a stinky for us!"

Dr. Bun's coworkers laughed as they watched her lose control. Closing her eyes and grunting loudly, Dr. Bun pushed out a huge load of crap into her bulky diaper. She closed her eyes as she did it, pretending she was anywhere but here. While she had messed herself before, and many of these women had in fact changed one of her messy diapers, it had never been so public and so humiliated. The nurses cheered the doctor on as she debased herself like an infant for enjoyment.

When the doctor was finished, Nurse Angela beant down and whispered in her ear. "Remember doctor, no matter how good you are at your job or how many accolades you receive, to us, you will never be more than a stupid, untrustworthy little baby. Now sit in your mess and play with your toys. It's going to be a long night."

Dr. Bun could only do as she was told, suck on her pacifier and cry as she came to terms with the fact that she'd be these nurses plaything for the rest of her life.

[corasexigence]

Intox Play Primer

Vet for high risk play. If you don't have the utmost trust in someone, control what you're putting in your own body and know where it all came from.

Check for interactions. Yes, this means sharing complete information about whatever medications the person getting drugged is on. No, the interactions are not always intuitive. Yes, this includes things like alcohol. Ideally, ask your doctor about interactions with whatever you're about to play with- they're trained in spotting interactions, you're probably not. (ETA- @vekarin-striae mentioned that pharmacists are often cheaper, more specialized, and less invasive to talk to about drug interactions.)

If you've checked the interactions yourself, assume you might have missed something. Even if you've gotten your doctor to check, be aware they might have missed something. I once caught a potassium deficiency issue in someone's existing medication that their doctor prescribed them.

ROUND 1- Use it for its own sake before you play with it. Spend the time together and set yourself up for success: easy access to food, water, comfort media, and comfortable places to sit and lie down. Know how long it should last. Get someone who's used it before to tripsit if you can. Don't give yourself any tasks that involve new skills. Be ready to offer yourself or your partner a redirect from negative or anxious trains of thought.

Know what a good time on your drug physically looks and feels like. This is crucial, because things might go sideways in a way you're not expecting. Don't just be watching for specific signs of an overdose (though those are worth keeping in mind too)- if something seems wrong, get help. Seconds matter and you're probably not a professional.

Similarly: if the drug is at all sedative, or a downer, or long-lasting, and they're unconscious before it's out of their system, check for breathing and check for pulse. Also, your risk profile is your own, but I don't fuck around with hard sedatives- there's too fine a line between which body systems they shut down.

Start with a low-to-standard dose, and adjust doses for any relevant interactions (e.g. estradiol approximately halves liver tolerance [alcohol, weed, diphenhydramine], SSRIs approximately double psychedelic tolerance).

In order to avoid dependence issues, I wait a default of two weeks between recreational uses of any drug. (I only count caffeine here if I'm having more than two cups of tea in a day.)

ROUND 2- Play with it scripted and above board before you play with it in an explicitly cnc way. Your communication and mental state will have shifted, and you'll need to learn to accommodate that; make sure you try things out without added communication barriers first. Also, make sure to talk about how everything went afterwards when you're both sober!

If you're going to adjust doses, do it slowly and carefully. Most easily accessible recreational drugs can be incremented by half the standard dose. Some drugs are incredibly sensitive to fine adjustments; this is why Fentanyl, for example, is so dangerous and not recommended to use.

ROUND 3- Don't get comfortable. Try to have as peaceful and relaxed an experience as you want, and keep an eye on things as you play with different emotional states- but DEFINITELY continue to keep an eye on safety. It doesn't stop being a concern because you've done it once and everything went fine.

ETA- Mind how drugs affect things like pain tolerance! You might miss important signals from your body. Also, pay attention to overlap with your neurotype when planning and risk profiling. You might desire or achieve different effects depending on your own specific brain.

[lucky-santangelo]

I can admit that there is technically a selfishness in both protagonists, but Glinda’s outweighs Elphaba’s, hence the criticism of her character.

First, there’s a difference in why both women want to work with Madame Morrible (and, through her, the Wizard). Yes, both of their reasons are for personal gain: Glinda wants this for more fame and power than she already has. On the other hand, Elphaba wants to be de-greenfied so people can…you know…stop treating her like she’s trash solely based on the color of her skin. Elphaba’s initial deepest desire to change the way she looks is inherently superficial, BUT it’s in direct response to society’s (AND her family’s) horrible treatment of her because she is green. Glinda’s reasons are MORE selfish.

Now, I know that in “Defying Gravity,” Elphaba asks Glinda to come with her, but the movie (and this post—a sincere thank you, OP 🤗) helped me see a new interpretation of it. I don’t think that Elphaba asks Glinda to throw her life away for her, per se. That was going to be a consequence, for sure, but I think she was first and foremost asking Glinda to join her in standing up for what Glinda JUST said she believed in: Animals rights.

The context is important here. This moment is happening after their Goat professor is violently removed from their campus. Elphaba and Fiyero were genuinely distraught over what happened. Glinda, hating to be left out (selfish intentions!), formerly announces to their class that she’s changing her name to honor Doctor Dillamond as a show of solidarity with the Animals in Oz. Only a mere hours later, Glinda is willing (and asking Elphaba) to side with the people responsible for Animal oppression. Oh how quickly Glinda’s performative allyship crumbled!

In the beginning of the song, Glinda is like, “Hey! If you give this cause a rest, you could look Normal the way you’ve always wanted!” And Elphaba is like, “But I don’t want it—no, I CAN’T want it anymore.” And I never noticed until now that Elphaba corrects herself!! She still wants to be de-greenified, but she chooses to give up her seat at the table for something bigger than herself. The Animal race is being treated as subhuman and she decides to give up this opportunity to help them (or at the very least, not be a part of their oppression). Elphaba gave up her dream of looking (and being treated as) normal in order for a minority race to have their rights back. That is selfless. That is something that Glinda was unwilling to do.

And you’re saying that Elphaba knows full well how much Glinda values other’s opinions, but Glinda says the same thing about Elphaba! A lifetime of being Othered, doesn’t make societal rejection any less hurtful for Elphaba. She just got better at hiding how much it affects her behind “I don’t give a fuck” armor.

Also, Glinda had so much wealth and influence that she could have used to help Elphaba and the Animals, you know? She could have been a Dolly Parton philanthropist. Instead, she made the conscious decision to stay in the system that she continued to passively benefit from, and to be an active cog in the systemic machine.

This was an impossible situation, but there was definitely a right answer 🥴 And Elphaba asking Glinda to do the right thing doesn’t make her “equally” as wrong as Glinda was for choosing to go along with the Wizard, please 😭

TL;DR: Yes, there is nuance to Glinda’s decision and you could make an argument for both characters’ selfishness, but Glinda’s selfishness far outweighs Elphaba and she is justifiably criticized for it. Elphaba gave up what little privilege she had in order to help a marginalized group. Glinda was willing to step on minorities’ backs (or to stand idly by while others did so) in order to cling to her own.

I love how inherently selfish both Glinda AND Elphaba are as protagonists. But where one gets praised and admired for it, the other gets demonised and hated.

People always attack Glinda’s decision not to runaway with Elphaba, but no one acknowledges how overtly selfish it is to ask that of someone.

Elphaba is asking Glinda to throw her ENTIRE life away for her. To be ostracised and hated all throughout Oz when she knows full well how badly Glinda cares about what people think of her.

And while Elphaba is used to such ostracisation, Glinda is not.

It is an equally selfish decision refuse Elphaba request. To perpetuate corrupt beliefs you don’t believe; in order to be accepted and validated by people in power.

They’re BOTH in the wrong, for entirely different reasons. It was an impossible situation with no right answer. And I’m sick of people acting like Glinda made the “ wrong choice ”

[causenessus]

leaving soon. | dazai o.

dazai x f!reader

written in 3rd person bc i can

song recc: the fear of losing this by florist

word count: 2.8k words

notes: use of pet names angel, love, and bella; WARNING for mentions about suicidal ideation,, not heavy angst, it's just dazai. and also the reader thinking she'd be fine dying if she's with dazai. not in a manipulative way, just a way of loving him in every universe and state <3 lots of hurt/comfort, overthinking, and insecurity. basically both dazai and the reader are horrible at communication so they have to figure it out together. established relationship implied. takes place during cannibalism arc after dazai is shot. civilian or ada reader not specified on purpose. thank you for reading!

she was the first person they called when they found out.

well– the first after an ambulance had been called. after that, she was the next most important person to call.

not important enough to have any part in saving his life, though. not just as a doctor; she wasn’t good enough to prevent him from thinking of killing himself every day. she wasn’t important enough to keep him from throwing himself into the way of danger, not worth enough that he thought about what would affect her before he wound up in these situations–

it was wrong of her to be angry at him for something like this. she knew what she’d been getting into when she first met him. when she first started falling for him, and when she confessed. she knew all along what he was like, and she still loved him anyway.

yes, he had a past. yes, he joked about committing suicide every day. yes, he was reckless. yes, he was a mastermind. yes, he was selfless and willing to always put everything above himself. yes, he was bad at communication. yes, he was worthy of love. yes, he could give love.

relationships were a work in progress. they would always be until the day she ended up buried next to him, hopefully. deep down, a part of her had already forgiven him for the episode of panic and stress she'd had as soon as she'd recieved the broken call from atsushi. but the other half knew it also wasn’t wrong of her to feel upset when she'd heard that her boyfriend had been shot in an alleyway.

she knew him well enough to know he knew he was putting himself in risk of danger in that alleyway, whatever he'd been doing there. she reckoned he probably knew he was going to be shot, too. and if he knew all that, she just wanted to know why he didn’t give her a heads-up. she wasn't asking for all the details. even just a text, moments before, saying "hey. i'm about to end up in the hospital. someone might will call you. don't be too worried." she didn't expect them dating to miraculously change him into a man who didn't crave death at every moment, but had it been so wrong of her to hope that maybe being in a relationship would cause him to think twice before getting himself in situations like these, no matter how much he assured her he knew what he was doing?

one day, as much as she hoped it wouldn’t be the case, she feared there’d be something he failed to account for. one day, he'd go missing, and no one would be able to find him, and it'd stay that way. she feared one day they wouldn't be so lucky as to find him bleeding out in an alleyway when there was still a chance to save him.

but there she went again, being angry at dazai, then being angry at herself for being angry at him, and then shoving down her feelings before she even had the time to process them. because she didn’t want to be the overbearing girlfriend who always plagued and worried about her boyfriend, but she couldn’t help it when her boyfriend quite literally wanted and was trying to kill himself.

everyone she had talked to had agreed that it wasn’t wrong of her to feel worried about her partner and that they would support her if she decided to distance herself from him for her own sake, but she could never bring herself to do that. if anything, to be completely honest, she’d rather she die with him than leave him to die on his own. 

maybe she was weird or morbid for thinking that way. maybe she needed to seek help. but all she knew was that she truly loved him, but maybe he didn’t feel the same way. maybe their entire relationship was just temporary for him and he didn’t want to die with her at his side. maybe death was something sacred for him that he wanted to experience alone, or she just wasn't the perfect one for him and he was still looking for that "special one." she wasn’t entirely sure what his thoughts were on the concept, or what he really, truly thought of her. she didn't know if she was really of any value to him.

maybe she could figure it out for herself. maybe she was a horrible, terrible, awful girlfriend for not knowing what her boyfriend thought of committing suicide with her, but she had no idea. she wasn't sure what was okay for her to bring up, and what wasn't. how was one supposed to go about asking their partner's opinion on a double suicide? she had been frozen by this fear as she stood outside her hospital door, but it was something that had been on her mind long before now. the fear of bringing up something that might ruin their relationship started even before they were dating; with even the thought of confessing her feelings. even though she'd gotten past that, it never became easier bringing up touchy subjects with him, out of fear of triggering something without the intention to.

she had been stuck outside his door for more than ten minutes since she'd been left by a nurse to open his door and check on him. she was unsure of what to think of herself, and what to do. her hand was fisted and raised, ready to knock but then she decided ‘i’m the first person on his emergency contacts list. i don’t need to knock; he’s mine. he probably wants to see me. i’m his.’  

she swung the door open.

what was she doing with her face? what was she supposed to be saying? why had she decided to come in so abruptly? she should have knocked after all. she was reminded of the fact that she was not enough to stop osamu from wounding up in a hospital in the first place. she didn't have any right to barge in like this.

then, all of her worries melted away when he turned away from the window to see who’d entered his room and his face softened.

“[y/n],” he whispered, and she saw his bandaged hands loosen their grip on the sheets he'd been holding. his shoulders dropped, and his whole demeanor seemed to relax.

“osamu,” she called his name back, letting her body do what felt normal. she was glad it had a sense of what to do, because she felt like she was at a loss for words. if she opened her mouth, she wasn’t sure if a tone of concern or of anger would come out. 

she took a seat in the chair pulled up to the side of his bed, loosely intertwining her fingers with his nearby hand. the bandages that adorned his skin didn’t bother her. in fact, she was often overcome with an urge to kiss over every inch of his body and tell him how beautiful he was. the hospital gown he wore was what bothered her; she thought everything about him was beautiful and she couldn’t stand the thought that there’d be a scar on his body because of her. because she hadn’t done a good enough job of telling him how loved and important he was. that he didn’t think of himself nor her as important enough to keep himself out of danger.

her lips were pressed into a grim line as she ran a thumb over his knuckles. she wished he would eat more.

“everything go well with the surgery?” she asked, talking softly as if the silent atmosphere in the room was fragile.

he hummed in response, “yeah, they took good care of me. i should be good to leave by tomorrow afternoon.”

her head perked up at the answer, “that soon already? are you sure?”

“yep! as long as i take it easy, they’ll let me go tomorrow which is good. thing are tense between the mafia and agency right now. ranpo and kunikida are fine, but we'll have to work together with them against the one who caused all this, and i’m the only one who can faciliate that.” 

she liked it when he explained everything to her, it made her feel helpful, as if at least he could share his thoughts with someone else rather than keeping them all wound up in his head. she nodded along, trying to push down the concerns she had for him. the mafia wasn’t always nice to work with; even if dazai was right and their cooperation was the best course of action, that didn’t mean they would agree to it–at least not without a fight.

“you are going to take it easy when you’re discharged. right?” she gave him a look, in which he gave her a wry smile in return.

“of course i will, bella! who do you think i am? and i’ll have you, my guardian angel to make sure of it, won’t i?” he laughed, squeezing her hand as he talked boldly.

it had been easy for her to forget that he would want her by his side but the reminder made her smile, “you’re right. i'll be there to make sure you don’t hurt yourself again.” she almost added something else to her sentence but the "again" spoke well for itself, she thought. she didn’t want to ruin the mood so she kept it vague and her mouth shut. dazai looked at her expectedly, as if he was waiting for her to say something else but she only smiled at him, “i think i’m going to go take a walk real quick, just to clear my head. is that okay? i’ll be back soon.” she made an excuse as she stood up, turning to walk towards the door of his room before a hand gripped her wrist, pulling her backward.

she yelped as she fell onto the bed, flush with his chest. she could feel and hear the groan he let out when she hit his torso and on reflex tried to push off of him to lighten the pressure on his wound but his grip remained strong around her wrist, pulling her closer.

the prick of pain that shot through his stomach was a small price to pay for having his girlfriend on his chest, where he had wanted her from the moment she’d walked through the door. he wrapped his arms around her back, keeping her secure and from escaping his arms.

she allowed herself to be held in his arms, knowing it was useless to try to fight it now. she sighed, trying to enjoy the moment as her ear rested against his chest, allowing her to hear his heartbeat while she looked out the hospital window to the orange colored sky. 

“why take a walk away from me?” he mumbled playfully, nose buried in her hair. when she didn't respond, he placed a gentle hand on both sides of her face, tenderly guiding her head up to look her in his eyes; warm, chocolate-brown pools of adoration.

this is pathetic.

how did she come in here upset and worried about him and end up being the one comforted?

“you’re thinking too much in that pretty head of yours, angel. you’re thinking way too much about things way out of your control. that isn’t good. i can’t let you worry yourself to death like this, love. you gotta let me know what’s up. pretty please?” his voice was soft and pleading, but she winced at the mention of the word death, averting her eyes from him, instead opting to lay her head back on his chest, focusing on the steady rhythm inside of it. it was the surest sound in the world, the only thing she felt that could silence her head at the moment.

“sorry, angel,” he brushed a hand through her hair again, “didn’t mean to upset you, but i can tell, you know. and it makes me worried. i want to know what’s upsetting you so much.”

“says you,” she replied, huffing in frustration. he waited for her to continue, and she did, “you think you’re worried? i’m worried. about you! you’re the problem.” his fingers stopped moving at the mention of him. 

“‘don’t worry about me,’ i can already tell what you're about to say. ‘yes i know i was shot but don’t worry it was all part of an elaborate plan i didn’t tell you about after promising to try to communicate better,’” she mimicked him, trying to explain to him her point. she feels the hum in his chest as he processes her words and starts to grasp it. “it’s just– i’m sorry if that’s mean. and i’m sorry for worrying because you don’t need that added to your plate, but i can’t help it. i didn’t want to tell you this at the start because i don’t want to overstep your boundaries or give you one more thing to fix. i don’t care much about you breaking your promise to communicate better because it’s a lot to ask and it can’t always be done. i know you’ve had a difficult past and i don’t mind, osamu. i’m not mad, all i want is for you to be safe. and i know that’s a lot to ask from a suicidal man and that’s why i don’t know where i have a say in all of this– but i love you and it hurts for me to see you put yourself in danger so carelessly without telling anyone, as if i’m not enough to make you think twice before injuring yourself. sometimes– sometimes it feels like i’m just something for you to toy with before you die. something for you to entertain yourself with before you inevitably end up leaving. and i don’t want you to leave. i don’t want you to die, or at the very least without me– but i also know that’s nearly impossible to ask of you.”

he had started to rub her scalp as some sort of apology while she’d explained her feelings to him, and she still couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes. she felt pathetic and weak with the tears in her eyes, and even worse when they began to slip from her eyes, no doubt seeping through his shirt and bandages. “you have every right and place to say whatever you would like, bella.” he spoke up after a beat of silence as he thought. still, it didn’t make her feel any better. he could just be saying what he knew she wanted to hear, but what she wanted was the truth. how much time did she have left with him? how much was she worth? was he leaving soon?

“you're the closest person to me and you deserve to say whatever you would like and to know what’s going on. i love you, too,” she could practically hear the smile in his voice as he said those words which made her face turn red as she turned away from the window to hide it in his hospital gown. her own confession had slipped out of her without a second thought, but she hadn’t meant for this to be a serious moment of testing how much he loved her. “i wouldn’t have agreed to try to change if i didn’t want to, but that’s why i made you that promise. i do want to change and be better for you, whatever that entails. i’d rather talk to you about my plans even if you don’t like them so that you know what’s going on rather than leaving you in the dark. because i never want you to feel like you’re just a toy or anything of the sort. you’re so much more than that, bella, and i should show as much. i’ve been and am forever grateful for your love and patience, [y/n]. i don’t deserve either. ask whatever you want of me and i will do it. will you give me another chance, my angel?”

“of course,” she mumbled in response, nuzzling and kissing the center of his chest, finally feeling the truth and love behind his words spread through her body like a warm fire. “i love you,” she whispered, not expecting him to hear it.

“i love you too,” he whispered back, pressing a kiss to her scalp.

a noise from the window made them both jump as they turned to see a spotted orange cat with a sardine in its mouth waiting outside. it was posed too well to be a normal cat, and the pair shared a glance as she moved to start to get off of him.

“do you want to come along with me this time, bella?”

“always.”

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

heyyyyy, I saw that your requests ar open and I had an idea - could you write vessel taking care of sick reader? like absolutely babying the shit out of them😭😭😭 I've been sick for like a week and it sucks

I hope you are feeling better, gorgeous. We probably switched sicknesses. Cause I’ve been knocking on hell’s door all week. Idk what sort of shit I brought back from Germany with me.

Sickly

Vessel knew something was wrong the moment he opened his eyes. He felt too warm. The right side of him felt like a blazing furnace. He turned slightly towards the warmth. The sleepy state he was in did not let him grasp reality fully. That’s until he’s met with your body. His brows instantly knit together. You always ran cold. Like a little frog. You two always joked that it’s what made you both destined for one another. Vessel was always too hot and needed something or in this case, someone to pour his warmth to. And you were always cold, meaning that any warmth was always welcome.

Now your body seemed to be radiating the warmth back. The forehead that was pressed to Vessel's bicep was burning up. Reaching his arm out, Vessel softly rested it on the side of the face. Your skin felt clammy and just like he suspected way too warm. The nasal breathing only added to his suspicion. You had finally fallen ill. After battling whatever that you had caught on the very end of their tour. You had been a trooper. Downing a couple of cold pills and calling it a day as you screamed your lungs out watching your boyfriend perform. Now your little body had fallen victim to your demise.

Turning slightly Vessel, tried to get out of bed without disturbing your already restless sleep. Only to be met with a grunt. “Don’t”, you muttered, “that felt nice”, you motioned to your forehead, eyes barely open. “Darling, the fact that my skin feels nice against your forehead means you have one hell of a fever”, Vessel leaned forward, brushing damp hair from your face. “I don’t”, you protested. “I’ll grab you some meds and will be back in no time”, he promised, rubbing your head a couple of times, before getting up to leave.

In moments like this, he was glad that he was slightly paranoid about illnesses and medication. His med cabinet was always stocked. With both meds you took, just so you would need to take any from your apartment or have them at hand when needed. But also with anything one might need in pretty much any basic medical emergency. Knowing that he could ask efficiently and quickly eased some of his nerves.

But Vessel’s heart didn’t break any less when he walked back into the bedroom to find you practically shivering, curled into the plush blanket. “Take these”, he softly reached out, pushing his hand beneath your head and lifting it up so you wouldn’t choke on water. Before reaching for a thermometer. The loud and much more alarmed beeping only proved what was obvious. “What hurts?”, Vessel asked, softly brushing his thumb over your cheek.

You blinked slowly, the pale skin made Vessel sick to his stomach. You opened your mouth only for a nasty cough to cut you off. “General cold and flu symptoms or are you feeling anything else?”, he asked, glad when you shook your head. That meant that the medicine would probably work even if he was gonna book a family doctor appointment for you regardless of the moment you fell asleep. “I’m really cold”, you whispered. “It’s the fever. You need to sweat this out, baby, I’ll grab you one more blanket”, he muttered. “It’s disgusting”, you grunted, turning deeper into the pillow. “You’re sick, nothing is disgusting about it”, Vessel reassured you as he draped one more blanket over you. “You will… leave when I change this and wash”, you pointed to the sheets that were already damp with your sweat. “Love, I couldn’t care less”, he muttered, “Plus, you can barely keep your eyes up how do you plan to keep yourself up in the shower?”

And his words made sense but you had never been so ill in front of him. It felt vulnerable and scary that the ugly side of reality was coming to bite you in the ass. “Don’t ever think about”, Vessel mused, “As your doctor, I’m against your overthinking now”. You shot him a tired smile. “Doctor Vessel, hmm”, you coughed, “Sounds naughty”. Vessel shook his head smiling as well, “Yeah, maybe after you’ve not fighting for your next breath”. You frowned, “Don’t say it like that it sounds like I’m dying”. “No one is dying, darling”, he reassured you, pressing his palm over your forehead, softly brushing it over your head, watching your eyes growing heavy.

[harmonic-intervention]

And your sad blue eyes, like mine

When the call came, Buck was already staring at his phone.

He was also about two months pregnant, but that was beside the point.

Got another fix-it. I am joining the mpreg train.

Word count: 11,104 - getting back together, double mpreg, helicopter crash

Excerpt:

When the call came, Buck was staring at his phone. He knew that Eddie and Hen were throwing disapproving glances his way, but that hardly deterred him. He'd gotten worse about this in the last couple of weeks.

But who could blame him? After the news, the desire to reach out to Tommy had increased tenfold.

Pregnant. About two months, now. He'd found out just last week, after he had felt sick and on a hair trigger with his emotions. He'd gone to the doctor, and she had told him that there was no doubt - he was pregnant.

Which caused a whole new set of problems. Namely, he and the baby's other father were broken up! Had been for pretty much the duration of the pregnancy.

Because Buck could guess when it'd happened - the last time they'd had sex, because they'd had it all night, multiple times, and it fit with the timeline.

Buck had known he had the carrier gene, but he'd been on birth control. Only when he'd told his doctor which one, she'd told him that these had recently been proven to fail after a short while of use.

So, here Buck was. Single, miserable, and pregnant. Staring at his ex-boyfriend's contact as if that would give him the strength to make the call. And he did have to make it. Tommy deserved to know, and the kid deserved to have two parents. And if Tommy didn't want to get involved, well then ... Buck had enough love for five parents.

He was going through what to say when he finally did get the courage to call, like perhaps hey guess what, my birth control failed. Or I'm pregnant and it's yours. Or guess I'm not the only one who's gonna call you daddy now.

Only before he could make a choice, his screen changed.

TOMMY flashed on the screen. Buck had removed the little heart he'd put next to his name and had to force himself not to put it back.

He stared at it. For a moment, he couldn't move. For a moment, he was tempted to let it ring.

He'd been waiting for this for two months. He'd been agonizing over having to call Tommy for the past week. And, let's be real, before that.

He accepted the call. Raised the phone to his ear.

"Hey?" he rasped, and really? Hey?

"Buck."

Buck's hair stood on end. His blood felt frozen in his veins. That was Tommy, alright, but he sounded- there was something wrong, and not just because the word Buck sounded wrong coming from him. He was breathing heavily, and his voice was faint. There was a cough, and it sounded wet and painful.

"Tommy? He-hey, hey what's going on?"

What if he's in trouble and needs my help? Buck had said that to Eddie a couple of weeks ago.

"I-uh, I'm kinda not doing too well," Tommy said, laughed a bit but it turned into another cough, then a pained groan. "Dropped. I- I'm stuck here, I think. Can't really move."

"What do you mean, where are you?"

"I don't really know. Not where I'm supposed to be. Also kinda- think I'm bleeding out a bit."

[continue on ao3]

[verdaneart]

I cannot stress enough how important it is to treat ANY animals you have with care.

Do your research BEFORE getting anything

ADOPT from reputable shelters, NEVER BUY from stores, breeders, or strangers

ALWAYS SPAY AND NEUTER cats and dogs (Good shelters should have already done it if possible and safe at the time)

Properly VACCINATE your animals as their vet recommends

MICROCHIP YOUR CATS AND DOGS, EVEN IF THEY DON'T GO OUTSIDE

Ask their vet for an APPROPRIATE DIET, and KEEP UP WITH IT

DO NOT feed them anything that is NOT confirmed to be SAFE by a credible source

Regularly SOCIALIZE and/or play with your animals (I'm talking kindness every day)

If they go outside, SUPERVISE them, and it's best they have a leash

KEEP YOUR POOR CATS INSIDE FOR EVERYONE'S SAKE AND THEIR OWN FUCKING SAFETY. NO EXCUSES.

CHECK IN on their health and well-being REGULARLY. Even just being around them and socializing correctly can tell you when things are off

SCHEDULE VET VISITS for AT LEAST ONCE A YEAR like any normal doctor

If something is wrong, and you don't know what, do a bit of research, and if you can't pin it down as a specific (harmless/non-threatening) thing, TAKE THEM TO THE VET ASAP

DO NOT GIVE PETS AS GIFTS WITHOUT EXTENSIVE PLANNING WITH THE FAMILY THAT WOULD RECEIVE THEM. MANY PETS ARE A 10 YEAR COMMITMENT OR LONGER.

"But my cat needs time outdoors to entertain/sustain/whatever themselves"

You are OPENLY admitting that you cannot take care of that cat, or are too lazy to try. Letting cats roam freely outside also puts them in MASSIVE DANGER from things like vehicles, people, chemicals, pesticides, poisons, diseases, parasites, other animals, physical animal "repellants", and COUNTLESS OTHER HAZARDS. The average outdoor cat lives only 5 years or less, while the average indoor cat lives upwards of 15 to 20 years. If you want to let your cat enjoy some time outside, there's FAR SAFER options, like a cat leash, closed pet stroller, pop-up catio tent, or permanent catio. Fences CANNOT keep a cat in your yard for long, and many hazards can still get past your fence anyways. Outdoor cats- both feral and domestic- are responsible for countless deaths of small wildlife, threatening many species and driving others to extinction. The cats don't understand that, so we have to understand the dangers for them.

"What about Feral Colonies/Barn cats?"

Feral Colonies can be properly maintained if needed, or adopted out if possible. Many known colonies are cared for and monitored by nearby individuals in cooperation with a local rescue. The caretaker is generally responsible for feeding them and monitoring for changes in health or population. Rescues are then responsible for TNR (Trap, Neuter/Spay, Return), recording health/population, treating injured cats, and evaluating individuals for potential adoption, as well as removing any kittens to be raised and adopted. If done correctly and for long enough, the colony can eventually reach a generation where none of them are feral anymore and they all find homes.

To avoid the euthanasia of thousands of innocent animals, we MUST care for the ones we have now.

If anyone has more questions, literally just ask. I'll do my best to answer all I can, and provide resources when possible.

Euthanasia season? Please don't tell that is people deciding to euthanise because of the holidays....

It's not BECAUSE of the holidays but euthanasias do tend to increase during the holiday season. Iirc It's mostly because families are usually together at this time. One of the vets I work with thinks it's also due to colder weather being harder on senior animals.

[javier-pena]

i didn't have as much time to read as i would've liked this past month but i finished my novel so that's something 😅 still, i read some really really wonderful fics and i'm so excited to share them with you all!!

as always, please check the warnings on the stories before reading them and please please let the authors know that you loved their work!!

i’m also always looking for fic recommendations, so feel free to send me your favorites!

dieter bravo (the bubble) + din djarin (the mandalorian)

this protector by @perotovar

dieter and his bodyguard, din, get the wrong hotel room. i wonder what happens…

ezra (prospect)

drabble by @danidrabbles

ezra has to shut up for once in his life

logan howlett (x-men)

cardinal by @danidrabbles

at the edge of the world, someone from another keeps you from stepping off.

i could play the doctor (i can cure your disease) by @sceletaflores

it’s been another six months, and logan needs your help…

oberyn martell (game of thrones)

strawberry sugar by @guiltyasdave

your boyfriend spoils you on your birthday morning. in some... unexpected ways. :)

joel miller (the last of us)

every breath you take by @freelancearsonist

your dad is getting married to his soulmate and you have every intention of making it the perfect day. the only kink in your plan is your unexpected feelings for your soon-to-be stepdad’s best man.

lost cause by @joelalorian

joel thinks you shouldn’t waste your time on him. you disagree.

nothing left to prove by @covetyou

some risks are worth taking.

sweet treat by @sanarsi

you came to your family home for a vacation. the obsession that is born in joel pushes him to do very bad things.

joel miller + tommy miller (the last of us)

he knows by @psychedelic-ink

joel knows you have a little thing for his younger brother so decides to indulge you for your birthday.

frankie morales (triple frontier)

drabble by @danidrabbles

based on the song dancing with our hands tied by taylor swift

javier peña (narcos)

west side by @gothcsz 

a lot of firsts with javi.

my own fic from november :)

the duel (din djarin)

when a grave injustice is done to you, there is only one man who will defend your honor.

[ladyeyrewrites]

Bun in the Oven

Rated M

Chapter 3/4

2990 Words

Chapter three of trans!Tommy mpreg 8x07 rewrite

Read from Chapter One

Read on Ao3 or below the cut

Tommy was definitely pregnant.

Eight weeks as far as the doctor could tell from the ultrasound.

But Buck couldn’t let himself feel excited. That wouldn’t be fair to either of them, not when Tommy seemed so scared, so likely to decided to terminate the pregnancy. So many times in his life he’d set himself up for disappointment by failing to manage his expectations and he wasn’t about to do that again. Because that would bring about an even worse heartbreak than Tommy suddenly deciding that Buck was incapable of being happy with Tommy long term and ending things without so much as a by your leave. Letting himself picture a life with Tommy and their kid only for it to be snatched away before it could come to fruition would break Buck and he knew it.

So, he tried not to get excited. Tried not to anticipate anything at all.

After the appointment, they sat in the Jeep together. Tommy stared at the ultrasound printout, at the blurry little blob that had just started to develop limbs and discernible eyes and ears.

“What do you want to do?” Buck asked.

“I want to think,” said Tommy, on the edge of snappishness.

“I know that,” said Buck. He wasn’t expecting Tommy to come to a decision right away. It made sense that he’d want to weigh his options. “I meant, do you want to go home or back to my place?”

Tommy sighed. “I need to get the truck, and then I want to go home. I think I need space to make this decision.”

“Okay,” said Buck. “And just so you know, I’ll support whatever choice you make, just please don’t disappear on me. I don’t think I could take that.”

Tommy nodded. “I’ll call you,” he said. “Once I’ve figured things out.”

“You’d better,” said Buck. “And we still need to have a proper conversation.”

“I know.” Tommy scrubbed a hand over his face. “One thing at a time though, okay?”

“Okay,” said Buck.

#

“So, how’d things go with Tommy?” Maddie asked over the phone as Buck was getting ready for bed.

“Not sure yet,” said Buck. “We were able to talk about some things, but not everything.”

“Think you’ll get back together?” Maddie asked.

Buck grimaced and flopped down on his bed. His bed that Tommy had slept in the night before, leaving that glorious scent of his all over Buck’s sheets. The healthy thing would be to wash the sheets, eliminating Tommy’s scent, but Buck wasn’t feeling particularly healthy. “I don’t know,” he said. “There’s still stuff we gotta talk through. I just – what if he runs away again?” Despite Tommy having promised not to run, Buck couldn’t help but fear he would, because that’s what people did: they left.

Maddie sighed. “Are you sure it’s worth getting your hopes up, Buck?”

It was Buck’s turn to sigh. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I think I’ll regret it if I don’t try.” And that was true. No matter what choice Tommy made, Buck would always wonder about the might-have-beens if he didn’t tell Tommy he wanted to try again. Maybe with couples’ therapy. Scratch that; they were definitely going to counselling if they got back together. But that would have to wait until Tommy made a choice. “But the ball’s in Tommy’s court right now.”

“Okay,” said Maddie. “I hope it works out. I just don’t want you to get hurt more than you already are. I think that you have to trust the universe is gonna bring you a special person. Whether that’s Tommy or someone else.”

“Yeah, we’ll see,” he said. Although Buck was beginning to wonder if maybe part of his problem was that he trusted the universe too much. Bobby had said a while ago that he kept letting relationships happen to him rather than taking an active role in them, and he’d tried to fix that with Tommy. Maybe he’d tried to force it into something it wasn’t, but sitting back and waiting for things to fall into place just seemed like the wrong move.

They chatted a bit more about Jee and Maddie’s day at work before hanging up.

Buck lay awake most of that night, drowning in Tommy’s scent, dreaming of a future together despite himself.

#

Buck had been worried that he wouldn’t be able to play it cool on shift the next day. That was part of the reason why he spent the morning in the kitchen, prepping lunch – more baking.

“All right, guys, lunch is up.” He pulled the baked ziti out of the oven.

“Smells amazing,” said Hen. “What are we having?”

“Fresh-baked garlic bread, baked ziti, and bread pudding for dessert,” Buck said as the team gathered around to get a whiff of the food. He was too pre-occupied thinking about Tommy and what he was thinking about to relish in the praise the team heaped on him.

“Since when did you become a master baker?” Eddie asked.

“Uh, when Tommy dumped me,” said Buck. “Now, whenever I feel tempted to reach out to him, I just—”

“Bake?” Eddie finished his sentence.

And it was still true, only now it was because Buck wanted to give Tommy the space to make the decision, he needed to make without feeling like Buck was pressuring him in any direction.

“I know, it, uh, it sounds dumb,” said Buck taking in his teammate’s faces.

“It’s not dumb,” said Bobby. “You found a coping skill to deal with cravings. We do the same thing in recovery.”

Bobby patted Buck on the back while Buck tried to come up with words to describe what he was feeling without giving the game away. “Well, I don’t feel anywhere near recovered,” he said. “What I feel is a tractor beam pulling me towards my phone to see if he’s texted me.” Buck gestured towards his phone with one hand as he carried the tray of garlic bread over to the table.

Hen and Eddie followed after him with bowls and plates to set the table.

“I know that feeling,” said Eddie. “Stay strong, man.” Which actually didn’t make any sense to Buck unless Eddie was talking about Shannon because he’d been pretty brutal in booting Ana out of his life and Buck hadn’t seen any pining for Marisol or Kim coming from Eddie’s camp, not with the Christopher of it all hanging over his head.

Buck sighed and grabbed up his phone from the table and happened to catch the text bubbles in his chat with Tommy. Something caught his eye: three little bubbles at the bottom of the chat. “Oh, my God,” he didn’t mean to say out loud. What if Tommy was texting to tell him he’d come to a decision? Buck stared at his phone, waiting for a text to come through.

“What?” Hen asked.

“He’s bubbling me,” said Buck, not sure if that was a phrase he just made up or not. “Tommy’s bubbling me right now.”

“So, what did he say?” Hen asked as she and Eddie gathered around Buck.

Buck kept staring at the screen. It seemed too soon for Tommy to have decided, and Buck didn’t know what that meant. Did it take longer to decide to keep a pregnancy or to get rid of it? He had no idea.

The chat bubbles kept bubbling away.

And then they vanished. “They went away,” said Buck. “I don’t get it.” Had Tommy not made a choice after all? Or had he decided it was a conversation he didn’t want to have over text? But Buck couldn’t let on that he knew why Tommy was texting him, so he added. “Why would he type, type, type and then not send anything?” He looked between Hen and Eddie as if they could possibly know.

“Maybe he just changed his mind,” said Hen in that annoyingly calm and soothing tone she used on him when he was being over-the-top.

“You think I should call him, right?” Buck asked. Because what if something had happened while Tommy was typing, and he’d dropped his phone and wasn’t able to finish whatever he’d been typing.

“Definitely not,” said Hen returning to the table.

“What if he’s in trouble and he needs my help?” Buck asked. That didn’t seem too out of the ordinary a thing for him to ask right? That wouldn’t immediately point to Buck being worried that maybe Tommy was having a miscarriage or something right now? It was perfectly normal to be worried about his ex whom he’d thought was his endgame only a couple weeks ago.

“That’s probably not it,” said Eddie. But what did he know?

“Yeah, I’m gonna call,” said Buck. He closed out of the text chain and went to press the call button on Tommy’s contact card.

And then Eddie snatched his phone straight out of his hands. “Sorry, can’t let you do that, buddy.” Eddie put his hands behind his back and passed Buck’s phone to Hen

“Okay. Come on, give it back,” said Buck, trying to keep an even temper. “Come on, give it back. I’m serious.”

“It’s for your own good,” said Hen, tossing his phone to Eddie again.

And a surge of anger roared through Buck. while his friends played keep away because what if Tommy needed him? What if something had happened? What if they broke his phone and Tommy wasn’t able to get a hold of Buck?

“Guys, give it back, I mean it,” he snapped and something in his tone must have alerted his friends to the fact that he was very much not amused because Eddie gave his phone back looking chastened.

“Sorry, man, just trying to keep you from making a mistake.”

“Oh, so you think me actually trying to get some closure on a relationship I really wanted to work is a mistake?” Buck asked.

Eddie flinched. “No,” he said. “If that’s what you need and something Tommy can give you, that’s great.”

“We just don’t want you to get hurt again, Buck,” said Hen in her mom voice which Buck didn’t usually take issue with but right now it grated on his nerves.

“You guys do know I’m thirty-three, right?” he asked. “That I’ve actually been in serious relationships before, and I know how to have an adult conversation with an ex?”

His friends wouldn’t look him in the eye.

“If I want to call Tommy, I’ll call him. But right now, I’m giving him some space because that’s what I told him I’d do when I saw him yesterday.”

“Wait, you saw Tommy yesterday?” Chim, who’d been remarkably absent from the conversation, asked. “I thought it was the day before. That’s why we had to take a rain check on dinner.”

Buck sighed. “Yeah, I saw him both days,” he said. This conversation was getting away from him.

“You didn’t, you know,” Eddie wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Did you?”

“No, we did not sleep together,” said Buck. “He came over. We talked. It got late and so we continued the conversation the next day. We’re not back together.”

“Do you want to be?” Bobby asked.

Buck hesitated before nodding. “Yeah, but if Tommy says he doesn’t then I gotta respect that, right? You can’t exactly make a relationship work if only one side even wants to be in a relationship.”

Bobby nodded.

And at that moment, Chief Simpson appeared wanting a word with Bobby, but Buck was too preoccupied thinking about Tommy to worry about that. He did reconsider calling Tommy though. If he’d come to a decision about the pregnancy, he probably didn’t want to have that conversation while Buck was at the firehouse, and they could be overheard.

Waiting until he was off shift to text though was agony.

#

Buck found himself scooping out cookie dough after his shift ended and he’d texted to see if Tommy was okay. His phone rang and for a moment he hoped it was Tommy, but no, it was Maddie. Not that he wasn’t glad to talk to his sister, but she’d probably ask him about Tommy, and he didn’t have the energy to talk around the truth or lie to her right now.

“You weren’t baking, were you?” Maddie asked.

“Uh, no,” said Buck. “Not technically yet. Did Chim tell you?”

“The gift basket full of baked goods you sent home with him may have tipped me off,” said Maddie “And whatever you’re doing that’s not technically baking, you need to stop, cuz you have plans.”

Buck sighed. “Plans? Uh, what are you talking about?” he kept scooping cookie dough.

“Remember when I told you that the universe was gonna send a special person your way?” Someone knocked on the door as Maddie spoke.

Buck wiped off his hands and picked up the phone. He really did not have the bandwidth to deal with his sister setting him up with someone right now, not with everything going on. Not that Maddie knew about any of that, though. “A blind date? Maddie, I’m not ready for that yet. One second.” He answered the door, thinking he’d find Tommy there only for it to turn out to be Maddie, Chim, and Jee.

“Here she is,” said Maddie with a grin. Gesturing to Jee who smiled up at him in multi-coloured cardigan and a tea shirt with flowers printed on it.

Chimney was smiling too, but more in a way that said he was just trying to humour Maddie and wasn’t entirely sure if this was a good idea or not.

“Well, when you said special person, you didn’t say the most special person in the whole entire world,” Buck said, squatting to scoop Jee up into his arms. Because he could most definitely free up the bandwidth to spend time with his niece, no matter what was going on. “Come here, Jee. Oh, I got you.”

“We’ll be back by ten,” said Maddie.

“Jee, take care of your Uncle Buck,” said Chim.

And then they fled back down the hallway before Buck could protest.

“Okay,” said Buck, fully immersing himself in uncle mode. “I have been making cookie dough. So do you want chocolate chip, peanut butter, or snickerdoodle?” He plopped Jee on a mostly clean portion of the counter.

“I want all of them,” Jee declared.

“What?” Buck feigned surprise. “That’s the perfect answer.” And they got to work, all the while Buck mused about what it would be like for Jee to have a little cousin or what it would be like to bake cookies with his own kid someday – maybe even someday soon. He let himself indulge the fantasy while he showed Jee how to scoop the dough and place it on the cookie sheet.

They’d just finished scooping out the last of the cookie dough onto oven trays when there was a knock on the door. “Just a sec,” Buck called as he opened the oven and slid the cookie trays inside. He hurriedly set a timer on his phone before lifting Jee off the counter onto his hip and crossing to the door. It was too early for it to be Maddie and Chimney. Maybe it was Eddie come to check up on him after their shift.

And there was Tommy standing in his doorway for the second time that week. “Hey,” said Buck. “I thought you were going to call.”

Tommy shrugged. “I didn’t want to have this conversation over the phone or text.”

Buck didn’t think that sounded hopeful. “Okay, but it’s going to have to wait a bit.” He hefted Jee who squirmed to be put down. Buck obliged and she wrapped her arms around Tommy’s legs. “Tom Tom!”

“I didn’t know you were on Jee duty,” said Tommy, smiling broadly and ruffling Jee’s hair.

“Neither did I until Maddie and Chim dropped her off,” said Buck. It was crazy to him how despite everything going on – the break-up, the pregnancy, the uncertainty – being in the same room with Tommy calmed Buck down, grounded him. God, he wanted so badly to hold onto that feeling.

“I can come back later if you want,” said Tommy.

“No, it’s fine,” said Buck. “They’re just going to dinner. Should only be a couple hours.”

“You’re sure?” Tommy asked.

Buck lifted an eyebrow.

Tommy held up his hands in defeat. “Okay, yeah, I won’t question your feelings anymore.”

“Good,” said Buck. “Now, who wants cookie dough?” The last bit was directed more towards Jee than Tommy.

“Me!” Jee raised her hand and ran back towards the kitchen island.

“Probably shouldn’t what with the raw eggs and all,” said Tommy. He made a vague gesture towards his stomach that gave Buck a burst of hope. Surely, Tommy wouldn’t be thinking about the foetus’s health if he was planning to terminate the pregnancy?

But Buck shouldn’t get ahead of himself. Shouldn’t jump to conclusions. “No eggs,” he said. He’d gotten in the habit of setting aside some of his mixture before adding in eggs so that it’d be safe to eat – another break-up habit he’d thought only existed in Tommy’s favourite romcoms.

“I guess I’ll give some a try,” said Tommy, smiling at Jee.

Buck went to the freezer and grabbed the cookie dough while Tommy silently started cleaning up from Buck and Jee’s baking session. And it felt so lovely and domestic, and it made Buck yearn for that future he’d laid out to Tommy the night of the break-up: moving in together, getting married, having kids.

And he’d never felt closer to that dream or further from it. And even though he loved every moment he got to spend with Jee, for once he couldn’t wait for Maddie and Chim to come pick his niece up so that he and Tommy could talk. Not scream at each other or have a single-sided conversation – actually talk and listen.

@silversky9 @unhingedangstaddict @ironspiderdad12 @beanarie @sporadicmakerwerewolf @azaharinflames @aisatsana441 @bugboybuck

[clowns0cks]

anyway I was watching the doctor dances and I might be completely wrong on this take cause I'm not taking into account the expanded universe, BUT. my point was I realised the master made a conscious choice of having a laser SCREWDRIVER instead of any other thing. Like. Jack laughs at the doctor for having a sonic screwdriver instead of something useful like a sonic blaster or a sonic gun or whatever. So like. Choosing to sonic a screwdriver is notoriously a bad and stupid choice for anyone else. I suppose the doctor is the only one who would have thought of that instead of a sonic weapon. So the master has a laser SCREWDRIVER literally just to mock the doctor. Also I know what you're thinking. What about river. Well don't you think she has a screwdriver cause she saw the doctor's? Totally on brand for her to match him with a screwdriver. But I imagine generally in the universe it would be pretty difficult to find someone not connected in any way to the doctor that owns a sonic SCREWDRIVER. Of all the tools in the universe. A fucking screwdriver. That doesn't even work on wood.

[tj-crochets]

If you don't want to answer this, I understand, but I'm really interested in allergies and I have a question. Are you also allergic to wine? I might be wrong but I'm p sure vinegar is made from wine, so I was wondering if that also triggers your allergies.

The short answer is yes, kind of? The longer answer is, I *think* the thing I am allergic to is acetic acid, and vinegar is made up of acetic acid and water. Some vinegars are made from wine, but not all are - Wait, okay, I googled this and ended up calling my mom (who, among her many other jobs she's had, has been a winemaker) and you were totally right. Wine has acetic acid in it, just in a lower concentration than vinegar, so I am allergic to wine. Very good to know!

Separate from the vinegar allergy, I also can't really have alcohol. It's not an allergy, exactly*? I have a mast cell disorder**, and alcohol is both very high histamine and a histamine liberator, so this means wine is the trifecta of thing I shouldn't have lol I'm on high enough doses of daily antihistamines*** that on good days I can tolerate a very small amount of alcohol when cooked into a sauce, or a very VERY small amount of vinegar (also only when cooked into something), but I still avoid them, and will be bumping wine up my list of "things I should avoid" right next to vinegar. *there's a difference between histamine intolerance, mast cell degranulation, and IgE mediated allergies, but I'll be honest I'm fuzzy on that science. I just know most if not all of my allergies are not IgE mediated (there's no allergy test for vinegar so I can't say for sure one way or the other about that one) **idk which one yet, but probably MCAS. Tests are inconclusive but the allergists are pretty sure something ain't right with my mast cells lol ***do not take the level of antihistamines I am on without talking to a doctor. Mine are prescribed and keep me from being covered with hives 24/7 but I am taking twice the recommended dose of two different antihistamines, plus montelukast

[naamahdarling]

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[theaccidentfactory]

boyfriend, I'm nervous (at the doctor's office)