#but i wonder if that gives it a better effect

[strange-aeons]

hi strange i’ve been enjoying yr videos for about four years thank u for giving me giggles for so long. however i am writing as i am not totally sure who else to ask…

my boyfriend had a traumatic pneumothorax last week and about 80% of his right lung collapsed. i don’t really know anything about pneumothorax (although i have learned so much recently lol) aside from hearing you mention it and as such i don’t know how to help him :(

i know it’s a shot in the dark but i was wondering if there are any comforts or ways to alleviate pain you could share? thank you so much strange you are super tough btw to have gone through this several times this Sucks big time

many good wishes to you and your sweet hairless babies in the new year!

If it happened one week ago he’s already gotten through the worst part! I’m assuming he’s still hospitalized with a chest tube in right now??

When I was in that situation it helped a lot having frequent visits from my partner and family. Especially when they brought snacks!!!!!! Hospital meals can be borderline inedible and there’s no way of escaping to the food court when you have a chest tube in (unless you plan to deceive multiple nurses and risk life threatening infection through the OPEN HOLE IN YOUR CHEST. Don’t do that).

Good food can be a relief in an otherwise horrible time, so finding out what he really wants to eat and brining it will definitely help. If he has no appetite then things like smoothies or drinkable soup can be very helpful. I often live off booster juice and Tim Hortona chicken noodle soup when hospitalized.

Finding the right media to keep sane is also very important!!! Your sleep schedule disintegrates entirely when laying on your back full of tube for multiple days. 2AM listening to alarms go off and 6AM getting woken up for x-rays and 1pm having the lunch slop delivered and 3pm being woken up for x-rays and 9pm visit from your surgeon all become basically indistinguishable, especially if you have no windows. Podcasts were ideal for me because it can be very hard to find a comfortable position with a chest tube / pneumothorax and looking at a screen was often too much of a hassle. Queer as fact and fall of civilizations are both excellent if you want non fiction btw. Old gods of Appalachia or welcome to nightvale if you want fiction.

There’s not a lot that you as a loved one can do about his physical pain, but I will share some of my pneumothorax expertise with you and anyone else who might go through this.

There’s no nerve endings in the lungs so all the pain/ discomfort related to a pneumothorax has to do with pressure in the chest cavity.

The pain is the absolute worst when your lung is actively collapsing so when that feeling starts SHOVE SOME EXTRA STRENGTH ADVIL OR TYLENOL DOWN YOUR THROAT, then lay down and wait for it to finish collapsing. It may seem tempting to rush to the hospital as fast as possible (or rush your loved one who’s lung is collapsing to the hospital) but trust me the last thing you want to do with a lung that is actively deflating like a sad balloon is exert yourself (this is how I collapsed my lung the full 100% and could not move my upper body for an hour. Quirky). Give it at least 30 minutes of floor time before you try to move. You will have a way better time getting to the hospital.

Wait sorry I lied lung re-inflation hurts sometimes more than the initial collapse. The sometimes are the times when ER nurses do not know how to do it properly. Immediately after they put the chest tube in, they attach it to a suction machine to suck out the excess air in your chest cavity. I do not know if these machines are the same internationally (I’m Canadian) but if you’re dealing with one where the settings are percentages, the one you want is 20% suction. NOT 100%!!! that just causes unnecessary excruciating pain without being more effective. I have had to fight numerous nurses while in the worst pain of my life to TURN THE PAIN MACHINE DOWN. fuck the pain machine. Anyway. After the pain machine they leave the tube in for a few more days to make sure the lung stays inflated. Nearing the end of that process, most of the discomfort is caused by the tube itself, so as horrible disgusting the worst getting that thing ripped out is, just know you will feel so much better after.

Throughout the healing process (and in the case of small pneumothoraxes not requiring chest tubes — I’ve had over 10 of those ones) I’ve noticed that heightened discomfort lasting a few minutes results from going from laying down to standing up or vice verse, or from bending over. This is why I have pioneered the sophisticated technique know as the pneumothorax squat. It is just as cool and hot as you’re imagining.

This post was supposed to be about how to support a loved one with a pneumothorax what the heck am I even talking about now.

Most of what he’s going to need will seem boring or insignificant. Companionship. Food. Medication. Toiletries. COMPANIONSHIP. podcast recommendations. But it absolutely is not insignificant. Abruptly losing mobility, independence, and bodily autonomy as a young person is really fucked up and I cannot fathom doing it without my family and my partner, even if most days that consisted of talking to me and bringing me smoothies and underwear.

Wishing a quick recovery to your boyfriend! Good luck with everything!!

[giggle-guru]

Aaaand away goes the old audio!! This one sounds a little better (thank you for your help w Jax audio decisions @hype-blue-fixation). Thank you all for your patience with this one! Very satisfying to destroy this rabbit I’m not going to lie LOL. I’m going to have another audio out this week too!! It’s a surprise cause we love mysteries in this house.

Script is under the cut as always!

[Visual note: Imagine the exact scene that this is in LOL]

Gangle: [smiling] Before we get into all that, first things first, are you smiling?

Jax: [confused] Uhh…no?

Gangle: [serious] Why not?

[Visual Note: Chair has six arms that come out as it reclines. His ankles are secured and his arms are raised above his head.]

[Sound Effect: Mechanical arms whirring]

Jax: [surprised, slightly nervous] Ah....uh..wait, wait, nobody can see this right?

Gangle: [giggly] Of course not, silly! After all, the other employees have been doing a fantastic job at listening and being oh so polite to our customers! You should try it!

Jax: [sarcastic] Pfft…right, right, so can you uh…get this [BLEEP] chair to let me go?

Gangle: [more giggly] Hehehe, sure! If you smile.

Jax: [eye roll] I’m not going to smile for a bunch of people that aren’t even real. They’re literally NPCs-

Gangle: [chipper] Well, that’s just not the attitude that I can tolerate! Thankfully, Caine was generous enough to give me full control over the punishment and I know just what’s going to happen in this employee re-evaluation!

Jax: [grumbling] Oh, great, so what are you going to do? Give me another pep talk? Cause it’s not going to work.

Gangle: [slight irritation] Nope! Even better! I'm going to [serious] make you smile.

Jax: [fake laugh] Make me smile? [scoff] That’s the dumbest [BLEEP] idea I’ve ever heard. Good luck with that.

Gangle: [more irritated, but smiling] Wow! You are really pushing my buttons today! I wonder what would happen if I pushed yours?

Jax: [squirming slightly] What are you talking about?

Gangle: Why this of course!

[Visual Note: One of the hands begins to poke repeatedly at his side, causing Jax to flinch]

Jax: [suppressed laugh] H-Hey! What the-?! What gives!

Gangle: [mockingly] Why, I’m just helping you find that can-do attitude! I know it’s in there somewhere, we just need to do a little…digging!

Jax: [groaning, an involuntary smile making its way onto his face] You’re such a pain in the [BLEEP]!

Gangle: [annoyed] You’re the one being a pain. Now just smile, it’s part of your job!

Jax: [snapping] Fine! Fine, I’ll smile!

Gangle: [suspicious] Yeah? Already?

Jax: [grumbling through clenched teeth] Yeah, yeah. You want a smile? Here.

[Visual Note: Jax forces a strained, obviously fake smile.]

Gangle: [pauses, then tilts her head, unimpressed] Hmmm… That’s not a smile, Jax. That’s a grimace. A very... forced grimace.

Jax: [tight smile as he struggles to hold back, fuming] I am smiling! That counts, you [BLEEP]!

Gangle: [irritated] I knew that wasn’t a real smile. And besides, swearing in front of the customers is a biiiig no-no in this industry!

[Visual Note: Another hand begins poking at his other side. Jax squirms again, clearly struggling to keep his composure as the chair's mechanical arms continue their teasing ticklish assault, now trailing up and down his sides as another set begins tickling his underarms.]

Jax: [retorts, but a laugh slips] Oh, get over yourself, we can't even sw-HA! Stop that!

Gangle: [smiling wider] Hmm…I’ll stop when I think you have successfully finished your training. Now then, it looks like its about time to bring out the big guns!

Jax: [gritting teeth, trying to hold back a laugh] You’ve got to be kidding me. This is insane.

Gangle: [giggling uncontrollably] Oh, come on now, Jax! A real smile! It’s not that hard!

Jax: Bite me-

[Visual Note: With that comment, the hands begin scribbling at his stomach and sides, and dig into his underarms causing him to dissolve into a giggling fit]

Gangle: And would you look at that? You could be the headlining employee on a Spudsy poster with a smile like that!

Jax: [giggling] Okay! Okay, so I’m smiling! Stop!

Gangle: Oh, Jax, that was only step one! Step two is looking back and taking responsibility for your actions and learning to respect those around you.

Jax: [squirming and frantically giggling now] That is such [BLEEP]! You’re just making things up now!

[Visual Note: Another set of arms comes from the chair, moving to begin squeezing at his knees]

Jax: No! Nonono! Not there!

Gangle: Making things up? I’m just following the handbook. Now then, let’s review today’s behaviours…

Jax: [a squeal slips] No! Fine, fine, fine! What are you on about? Just get it over with!

Gangle: [disappointed] Well, for starters you can’t put your co-workers in the air fryer! It’s highly unprofessional. Talking about how much you hate customers in front of them…its bad for business. You even insulted your good ol’ manager-

[As Gangle speaks, Jax is laughing hysterically now as he thrashes in the chair, barely able to focus on Gangle’s voice]

Jax: [shriek] Okay! Okay, I’m sorry! I won’t do it again! I was being an [BLEEP]!

Gangle: Sorry? Did I hear that right? Are you apologizing?

Jax: [giggling hysterically] [BLEEP]! Yes, I’m sorry! Just let me go! I’ll do anything!

Gangle: [content] That’s more like it. Looks like you completed the second step and acknowledged your behaviour…now onto the last one-

Jax: [gasping for air] There’s more?!

[Visual Note: A final set of hands quickly removes his shoes and begins spidering along his paws]

Jax: NO! No, no, no! I can’t! I can’t, you [BLEEP]!

Gangle: Yes! The final step! It’s simple really.

Jax: [laughing hysterically] What? What is it? Just tell me!

Gangle: As your manager, I need to ensure that you are being completely honest about your promises to become a team player. It recommends continuing this for the next hour or so-

Jax: [squeal] Hour?! Gangle- I can’t! I can’t! Just- just let me go back to work! Please! Please just let me work!

Gangle: [contemplative] Hmm…it would make more sense to have you back out there considering how few employees we have…

Jax: [laughing hysterically] Yes! Yes! I swear, I’ll- I’ll do everything! I’ll stop being an [BLEEP]! I’ll do whatever you want!

[Visual Note: The hands let Jax go as he collapses onto the chair, catching his breath and curling in on himself. Gangle watches from the TV with a smile.]

Gangle: Then it’s settled! Excellent job, you’ve completed your employee re-evaluation with flying colours! I’m glad you’ve finally seen what it means to be an upstanding Spudsy employee!

Jax: [panting] Yeah, that working here means you’re going to be tortured until you-

Gangle: [serious] What was that?

Jax: [flashing a smile] Nothing! Nothing. Just…glad to be here.

Gangle: [happily] Much better! Now then, it appears you missed your break, so you’ll just have to jump back in there! See you soon, Jax.

[TV screen shutting off]

Jax: [panting] Jesus, she’s something else.

[2nd2ndalto]

nothing's gonna stop me but divine intervention

Chapter 3

(chapter 2 here)

__

Nico moves to his bed, drops down onto his back.

“Sorry to hear that,” Will says.

How did you touch yourself?, is what he wonders, against all his better judgement. The image paints itself in his mind, a pretty flush over Nico’s pale skin, his breath unsteady. Did he get straight down to business, or did he work up to it slowly, feather-light touches over his chest, his thighs, before wrapping a hand around his dick? Did he close his eyes, or watch the motion of his hand? Did he think of someone? Picture someone else’s hand jerking him off, or maybe dropping to their knees in front of him?

Will bites back a moan, veering away from this train of thought with herculean effort.

“I can’t decide if I want to turn on the TV or not,” Nico’s saying, sounding strained. “Everything feels so loud.”

“Yeah,” Will croaks. “I think it’s – it must be a side effect. It feels that way for me, too.”

Nico’s never done well with overstimulation. Though he’s gotten better at dealing with it in adulthood, Will knows to keep an eye on him when things get too loud or too crowded.

“I’ll turn off the lights,” Will says, getting up. It’s not bright in here by any stretch – he knows that rationally. But if it all feels like too much to him, it’s almost definitely worse for Nico.

Stiffly, he makes his way to one night stand, then the other, clicking off the lamps. “Okay?”

“Gods. Yeah.” Nico sounds exhausted. He’s laid out on his bed with an arm thrown over his eyes. He shifts it a little once the lights are off. “Thanks, Will.”

It’s its own kind of torture, knowing Nico’s in physical distress and not being able to fix it. It’s been Will’s role nearly his entire life, after all, and a core part of his relationship with Nico, at least in the beginning. The thing they were built from.

Tentative, Will sits on the edge of Nico’s bed. “I wish I could help,” he says, well aware that there’s really only one thing that would help. And Nico’s already said he doesn’t want it.

“Maybe – could you hold my hand again?”

Nico sounds almost tearful, and Will feels a rush of sympathy, all-encompassing. “I know maybe it won’t work for long, but it felt really good for a few minutes there and – if – if it doesn’t work, then –”

“Of course I can hold your hand, nerd,” Will interrupts, gruff. “Move over.”

Nico does, and Will lays next to him. The second Nico’s hand slides into his, they both sigh in relief. It’s just as good as before. Better, maybe, because it feels as if all the other sensations have gotten more intolerable in the meantime.

“That’s so fucking good,” Nico breathes.

Will lets out a giggle. From Nico’s fervent tone, Will might have been doing something far more sensual than simply holding his hand.

Nico laughs. “Well, it is.”

“Yeah.” Will smiles at the ceiling, relaxing a little more. Everything else aside – this stupid situation, his endless unrequited crush on his best friend – being with Nico is fun. Nico’s company makes Will feel better, lighter. More like all his favourite parts of himself.

There’s a long moment of quiet. Will focuses on Nico’s breath, tries to match his own to it. It’s slower now, calmer. And the too-loud sounds of the room, the light filtering through the curtains and under the door – it all takes a backseat to this: the two of them, together. Their breath and their heat, and Nico’s blessedly familiar presence running in a steady current under it all.

“Do you think it would help to get really fucking drunk?” Nico says suddenly, and Will bursts out laughing.

Nico turns, grinning. Warm and fond and easy. Gods, he’s beautiful.

“I’m gonna try,” Nico says, getting up.

Will’s not prepared for the physical contact to break this time. He feels it like a sharp pang in his chest when Nico’s touch disappears, and he gasps. Nico grimaces like it’s hurting him, too, but he says, “just give me a second.”

Nico crosses the room, crouching in front of the minibar. He makes a noise of displeasure. “Fuck, do they ever stock these things?” He comes up a second later brandishing two tiny bottles of liquor.

“Not enough to get really fucking drunk, unfortunately,” Nico says, handing one bottle to Will. “Maybe it’ll take the edge off though.”

It can’t hurt. Hopefully. Will props himself up on his elbows, squinting at the bottle in the near-dark. “What is it?”

Nico makes a face. “Not sure. Something green.”

“Awesome,” Will sighs. He unscrews the cap. “Cheers.”

They bump the little plastic bottles together and down them. Nico coughs, and Will pulls a face. But before he can complain about the taste – melon, maybe? – or the burning sensation shooting down his esophagus, Nico’s already taken his hand again, and suddenly everything is just better.

Nico sighs, settling back onto the bed. Will does the same.

“You think that helped?” Nico asked after a long moment.

“Not sure. Maybe?” Things feel a little duller, maybe. But it could just be wishful thinking. “Do you think it helped?”

Nico makes a face. “Maybe.”

“You could call the front desk?” Will suggests. “See if they’ll restock the minibar?”

“I guess I could, but I’m not answering the door with a huge fucking magical boner.”

Will snorts extremely unattractively and then laughs, hard. Nico’s shaking with soft laughter beside him, and when Will glances over, Nico looks awfully pleased with himself for invoking this reaction in Will.

“Huge, hey?” Will quirks an eyebrow, then glances down. Not that he can see much.

“Hey,” Nico laughs, rolling towards Will to press a hand over his eyes. “Don’t look at it.”

Will giggles, shoving at Nico’s hand. It comes to rest gently on Will’s head, where Nico makes a tentative stroke through Will’s curls… and then lingers. They’re even closer now, and they gaze at each other for a long moment, warm and buzzing. Gods it would so easy to just shift forward and –

Nico swallows, rolling onto his back again.

Will breathes deep, fixing his gaze on the ceiling.

“Do you – it’s –” Nico says, and then falls silent.

“Hmm?”

“Could we – would it be weird to have – more physical contact? Like –”

“No, of course not,” Will says immediately, because he’s been silently yearning for the same. The hand-holding feels ridiculously, stupidly good, and the liquor might have helped a little, but in the last few minutes Will’s brain has been one-tracking more, more, more. And it’s been what, maybe two hours now? Maybe, if they ration themselves… maybe they can get through this without ruining their friendship.

“What were you thinking?” Will asks. What he really wants is to take everything off, wrap around Nico like a blanket, turn him into something resembling a Nico burrito. But that’s most likely not what Nico had in mind.

“Maybe shirts off?” Nico says, hesitant.

“Yeah, good idea,” Will agrees, beginning to tear his off almost before Nico’s done speaking. Nico lets out a laugh, maybe a bit nervous, but he does the same. They shuffle into the middle of the bed until they’re side by side again. They link hands and Will wiggles in further, so Nico’s arm is crossed over his, shoulders pressed together.

Gods, it feels good.

This is essentially just medical. Right? Will can be sensible about this. Pragmatic.

Nico lets out a soft sound of contentment, and they’re both quiet, basking in the reprieve. It’s warm everywhere they’re pressed together, and Will wants to sink into the feeling, not come up for hours. He’s touched Nico before, of course – mostly in the context of healing, but sometimes just for comfort, for closeness. The pollen seems to make every touch so much better though, so much deeper. Like they’ve ceased being two separate people.

And gods, Nico smells so fucking good. Will wants to bury his face in Nico’s still-damp hair, nuzzle into his chest and the hollow of his throat –

“This is one of the stupidest things we’ve ever done,” Nico says suddenly.

Will feels the words like a gut-punch. Nico must realize it too, because he turns, his expression soft and apologetic.

“Not – not touching,” Nico says. “Not this.” He squeezes Will’s hand. “Just – like, seriously. A magical aphrodisiac that wants us to mate? It’s like something out of terrible sci-fi.”

“Hey, Star Trek’s not that bad,” Will protests.

Nico giggles. He squeezes Will’s hand again, hooks his ankle over Will’s. “What did they do? In the Star Trek episode?”

“Um.” Will shuffles even closer, because his body wants him to. Nico clearly doesn’t mind, sighing and melting into it, turning his nose to Will’s bare shoulder.

“I think the whole crew ends up being affected, except Kirk. Spock can express love for the first time. And then they figure out they can counteract the effects of the pollen with negative emotions.”

“Huh,” Nico says, thoughtful. “Do you wanna try that? Be a dick to me and see if it helps?”

Will snorts. “No.”

“Okay, good. Cause I might cry.”

Will laughs and Nico does too, their bodies shaking against each other. Warm, warm, warm.

“Hey, roll over,” Nico suggests after a moment. His voice is low, soft like flannel. Like all the best parts of darkness.

Will would do whatever that voice told him to, any time. He rolls to his stomach, folding an arm under his head.

Nico snuggles in again, laying an arm over Will’s back, pressing his face into Will’s shoulder. And then he starts rubbing Will’s back, slow and soothing.

Will makes an embarrassing noise that could, objectively speaking, probably be classified as a whine. He feels his face flush even more. But Nico just chuckles, soft, not stopping the motion of his hand.

“Good?” Nico asks.

“Yeah,” Will says weakly. He closes his eyes, sinking into sensation. Trying very hard not to start grinding into the mattress. He reminds himself of how appalled Nico looked earlier, when Will accidentally touched himself. That helps quell the urge for the moment. But it’s still the most erotic platonic back rub he’s ever experienced.

“You used to do this at Camp,” Will mumbles into his arm. He’s feeling so beautifully fuzzy, floaty, Nico’s touch making him feel far drunker than the little bottle of liquor did.

It hadn’t been uncommon, at Camp, for campers to dart across the green in the dark, risking death by harpy to seek comfort and company from friends when sleep wouldn’t come. Their last few months at Camp, Will had finally given in to the long-held desire to climb into Nico’s bed occasionally. And Nico would sigh, mumble something incoherent, and rub Will’s back until they both drifted off again.

“Yeah,” Nico murmurs. “Is it weird to do it now?”

“No.”

It’s good. So good that Will’s sure he’s going to fall asleep with Nico’s hand warm on his back, the same way he used to. The way he’s been dreaming of for the four years that they’ve lived apart, honestly. But just like before, they seem to reach a point where the touch just isn’t quite enough. It starts as the tiniest itch, easy to ignore. But then it grows and morphs into something demanding and unpleasant.

Will tries to ignore it as long as he can, but after a while he realizes he’s clenching his teeth, clenching everything. The motion of Nico’s hand becomes jerkier, less soothing, until finally Nico’s fingers contract, nails pressing into the meat of Will’s shoulder, a sharp, precise pain that brings a strangled sound from Will’s throat.

“Fuck, sorry,” Nico gasps, pulling back. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay.” Will fights to steady his breathing, fights against the loudly perseverative thought that he wants more of exactly that, now. Nico’s nails digging into his skin, Nico’s legs wrapped around his waist, Nico’s teeth –

“Those – those are some very effective spores,” Nico manages. “Top quality. If you were in the market for that sort of thing.”

Will doesn’t even think he can form words right now. And if he could, he doesn’t think it would be advisable for Nico to hear them. So he just makes kind of a high-pitched, pathetic whine. It makes Nico breathe out a laugh, anyway.

“Here,” Nico says. He doesn’t move away, thank gods, but he shuffles around until his back is to Will. “Roll onto your side and –”

Will doesn’t wait for the end of the sentence, scrambling to get closer, burrowing in, face pressed to the back of Nico’s neck, arm tight around his waist. So much skin pressed together – every inch of Will’s arm against Nico’s side, his stomach. Every inch of Will’s chest to Nico’s back. Will carefully keeps his dick away from Nico’s ass, just. They both moan in relief, sagging against each other.

“I – I actually meant for us to be back to back –” Nico begins, hoarse.

“Oh, shit –”

“No no no,” Nico says quickly, a vice grip on Will’s arm when he tries to pull away. “This is – this is perfect. Please don’t move.”

“Oh thank gods,” Will breathes. “I don’t think I can.”

Their breath begins to slow again, everything settling, blurring. Will’s face is smushed into Nico’s neck, breathing him in, strands of Nico’s damp hair tickling his forehead. He can’t imagine wanting to be anywhere else, ever.

And it’s perfect.

For maybe ten minutes or so.

And then it’s so much worse. Because before, Nico was just holding Will’s hand. Or rubbing his back. Platonic, at least ostensibly. But their position now is far more intimate, and Will feels himself tensing more and more, every muscle strung taut, and before long he’s fighting with any and all remaining willpower against closing the last few inches between them and grinding into his friend’s ass.

It’s just friction, his brain tries to convince him. It’s not really a big deal. How is it any different than a back rub, for instance? It doesn’t have to mean anything. A few minutes and it would all be over and –

Nico lets out a sudden sound, frustration or despair or both.

“Will, I don’t – I honestly don’t know how much more of this I can take,” he says in a rush. “I – it was – helping. At first. But now –” Nico shifts, almost writhes, not quite coming into contact with where Will so desperately wants him, but close.

Will makes a commiserating noise that might be a whine, or a moan. He can’t even tell anymore. He’s desperate to get closer to Nico, but he also needs to get away from here entirely. The little bits of logical thought left pinging around his fuzzy brain are telling him to break the contact between them completely, but doesn’t even know if he can, now.

Maybe there’s a different way for them to press together. Still just as much contact, but something not so excruciatingly tempting. And maybe then, maybe if they can just get a few moments of relief, maybe then they can think of some solution –

Nico squirms in Will’s grasp, wriggling around until he’s facing Will, face pressed into Will’s chest. They both make absolutely stupid sounds of relief. Will, panting, manages to lock both arms around Nico, presses his face to his friend’s hair, and Nico gets an arm around Will’s waist, fingers clenched in the waistband of Will’s pants – gods, this is feeling less and less platonic by the second, especially when Nico lets out a little whine, shoving one of his knees between Will’s. There’s still no contact with Nico’s huge fucking magical boner, but gods, it’s close. Will’s sure he can feel the heat of it, can imagine exactly what it would feel like pressed against his thigh.

The way he would grind against it, the noises that would choke from Nico’s throat. The way Nico would cling to him…

The heat is unbelievable, everywhere. Nico is so warm, his breath coming so fast. It’s intoxicating.

It’s intolerable.

“I wouldn’t – it would be – I’d understand. If you wanted to go out and… find someone. To help you… deal with this,” Nico says. He’s breathless, tripping over words, and gods, his mouth is moving right against Will’s bare chest, hot breath on Will’s skin. “It’s pretty fucking unbearable, and –”

“Why the fuck would I do that?” Will croaks.

“Because it’s me. And you,” Nico says. He sounds like he’s all the way at the end of his rope.

“And you don’t think of me that way,” Will says, not quite managing to keep the bitterness out of his voice as a healthy dose of hurt slips in amidst the arousal and the discomfort. “And that’s – fine,” Will continues, trying to backtrack. “I get that. But I’m not gonna go find someone else.”

There’s a long pause, their quick breath the only sound in the room.

Nico swallows. “I – I don’t,” he stammers, face still pressed to Will’s chest. “It’s not that I don’t. Think of you that way.”

__

Notes:

1. WHO COULD HAVE SEEN THIS COMING!! WHAT A PLOT TWIST!! 2. I have never seen the Star Trek episode. 3. My extremely non-fandom bestie asked what sex pollen was and I had to explain it to her D: 4. I meant for this to be a much shorter one-shot. Then it grew and grew and I still thought it should be much shorter. But then I remembered I can write whatever I want. 5. This fic references one of my other fics (There Is Rest and There's You) in which all the demigod kids tend to end up in each others' beds because nightmares/trauma, etc. 6. Thanks as always to my lovely beta, @rosyredlipstick!

[katerinaaqu]

Oh. My. GOSH!!!! This looks amazing there my friend! Hehe sure it wasn't the initial thought but boy oh boy did you deliver as always! I am so sad that this doesn't have more attention because it deserves it! Honestly I fear I am not good for your posts here! Hahahahaha!

For starters I love it how the arm that holds the knife comes first to this since as you say it is a critical part for his story and the way he went by with his knife and all and how in a way even if he did build his own empire or kingdom he fell by the knife as well given the circumstances. I also love how the second focus here is the eye the way that it truly reflects the pain in him and all. I really adore it how he is the main focus in this image and how the blood seems to pass from his hand and over his eye like that! It almost feels indeed like blood is passing every aspect of his life! Even his mourning moment! I also love how we have the small cameo of Andromache and Helenus who stick together with each other and I actually love that even if we do not see details on their face, I can almost see the wonder and partial pity mixed with contempt in Andromache and the way Helenus pulls her aside like "Leave him alone have his moment".

Dunno indeed whether Helenus would be more compassionate to Pyrrhus or not given that he is a Trojan too not to mention how brutally Neoptolemus killed his father on the altar but the fact that Helenus was also rejected by his people or rather he felt so when he didn't win the hand of Helen somehow makes me wonder how deep would this man's bitterness go for his own people and how far for the Greeks? Could it be perhaps that this was the reason Neoptolemus entrusted him with the rule of that portion of his kingdom even giving him Andromache as his wife? Was Helenus closer to Neoptolemus? And if yes why? He would have no real reason to like the dude unless we say that his bitterness for his father's choice went THAT deep. Perhaps in a twisted psychological thing he saw Neoptolemus as the best of two evils given how potentially Odysseus didn't like persuade him to reveal the prophecy with sweet talking and sweet wine. Probably he physically and psychologically tormented Helenus to get the information out of him. Could it be that Helenus saw in a twisted psychology that leads almost to some sort of Stockholm Syndrome saw Neoptolemus almost like his "savior" in this case? Or at least a better choice than someone like Odysseus? Gosh too much to wonder about as an aftermath of that bloody war And of course Andromache who would have absolutely no reason to like Neoptolemus. I also wonder what her relationship with her own children by him would be? Would she love them as her own or would she hate them as his? Gosh that woman surely suffered enough! But I love how SOME part of Neoptolemus seems more "righteous" here, how both Helenus and Andromache seem to be free to walk, not tied with chains and all and they seem to accompany him so maybe just maybe Neoptolemus tried to do SOMETHING right here? Maybe not.

Anyways I got overly off topic here! But yeah I really like their designs and the way you designed their clothes even if they are so briefly shown. Last but not least I am IN LOVE with adult-like Neoptolemus here and the way he wears the lion skin over his shoulder! Dude are you pretending being Heracles?! Hahahahaha! Either way I love it as well as the way he stands over that tombstone they set with the few offerings! Man the fall of Phoenix truly must have crushed him inside even if he doesn't say so! And I absolutely LOVE the simple yet powerful effect of the shadows here! How Neoptolemous seems to be covered with a shadow that starts from the grave of Phoenix! As if he has just lost another piece of his out there; another person he looked up to! Whilst Andromache and Helenus are stepping out at the light as if they now are set for rebirth while Neoptolemus is set to sink more and more in his own shadow and sadness!

Dude I absolutely LOVE this!!! And as you can imagine I just HAD to write something about this given how few pieces centered on Neoptolemus we have out there!

*

The old man was dying. There was no doubt about that anymore and they didn't need the physician to tell them that. Years of warfare and sorrows and worries in combination to the long trips of the sea could break literally any person, both physically and mentally yet alone someone as old and frail as Phoenix. The old man was constantly covered in furs despite the fact that the weather was not particularly cold; shivering in his illness and fever. The rocking of the ship seemed more like torment than actual lullaby to him and not even when he was practically stuffed with chamomile teas and milk from white poppy to ease his pain did the old man stop moaning and complaining for the cold. His reason and sharp mind seemed lost now under the mist of illness and old age. There was not much one could do but expect the worst to come. Neoptolemus was silent looking at that frail body that had lost almost all meat and flesh in their trip shivering under the furs. His face was pale almost as much as the old man's and his soul was disturbed and foaming like the waves under the oars of his ship. They were heading north. They needed as much help as they could get! The old man was always there for him. Neoptolemus was not mentally prepared for a world without him. He had spent weeks and weeks practically DEMANDING from his physician to keep the man alive at ANY cost. They had tried warm spiced wine and broths and drinks and drugs only to keep the man afloat. Neoptolemus was never more desperate in his life.

"My lord...he is tired!" his physician had employed him, "Please, any more is just a torture for the old man! Not even Asclepius himself can save him! Just let him die in dignity"

"Listen here, you old fool!" Neoptolemus had growled at the poor man grabbing him by the shirt, "I ordered you to save him! He is Phoenix! He is the man that raised my father! There is no way in all hells of Tartarus that he can die like this! You shall save him or I'll have your head for this!"

Oh, how much had he yelled! He had screamed and threatened but now even Pyrrhus, Neoptolemus, the son of Achilles was silent and almost motionless. He could do nothing else but stare at the bed that was attended by one slave and that body he admired and respected be now eaten up like a corpse being eaten by a worm. He even felt disgusted. How was it possible for such a man end up like this! THIS is what death would do to people? He never realized that the disgust was deeply rooted to his self blame. He remembered the physician. Maybe he should have heeded his words and allow the old man die with dignity a long time ago. Was it his mistake that he wanted to hold out to the last moment?

"Water..." the old man begged, "Please...w-water..."

The slave brought a small sponge to his lips and drained some water in that dry mouth. Neoptolemus could not watch anymore! He felt like drowning! He almost screamed to the slave to leave the old man alone and let him die! But his heart once more wouldn't let him to.

"Neo...ptolemus..."

The voice made him stop in his track. It was Phoenix calling and despite the weakness in his voice he seemed bright as he was before this illness stroke him. Despite the weakness in his voice he was back at his old self.

"Old man..." Neoptolemus heard himself whispering and almost ran by his side but something inside him stopped him. Instead he slowly walked there and looked down at the man that had raised him before. He was sure his face was cold like stone and yet the old man didn't seem to care. Even more disturbingly he seemed to be able to read the uproar inside his soul. That old, wrinkled hand got out of the covers and held his. Neoptolemus felt the flame under his skin more intensely.

"It's okay...son...you are strong. It will be alright"

He was literally dying and he was trying to console him?! Neoptolemus didn't know if he had to scream or cry for it.

"I know you shall be a great king....people shall remember your name...your legacy shall live...my son... Pyrrhus..."

What a weird way to say it! He almost sounded lilke a prophet and Neoptoplemus had one of them with him already! Before he had time to respond, Phoenix pushed him away. He had no time to think or protest for he heard the old man breathe out and then he remained still. It was the same stillness that took over Neoptolemus; as if a cold wave had passed through his body. It was as if he was frozen solid.

"Old man..." he whispered, "Phoenix..."

The slave that was over him shook her head negatively. The others made a moaning sound and doubled over. Neoptolemus didn't need to have the intelligence he considered himself to have to understand the move. He didn't need to have the sharp eyes to see the scratches at the cheeks of the slaves they caused themselves or see their movements of beating their breasts or hear their moans to realize what had happened.

The old man had died.

It was as if finally he had reached the realm of the passing over; his soul leaving his body. The old man had protected him from yet another miasma at the last moment by pushing him away so that he wouldn't touch the dead! If the situation was any different then Neoptolemus might have laughed. He had killed so many people and yet the old man wanted to spare him from touching a dead body?! What an idea!

"O-Oi..." he whispered, "This is not true is it? Get up, old man! Get up! You can't be...this can't be true! Get up!" There was no response. That filled him with deadly fury! How DARED the old man play with him to check if he had a heart in his chest! How DARED he to do that! He made a step forward.

"Cut this out, old man! Get up! Get up! Damn you get up! You-..." The slave that grabbed him made him realize that he must have been ready to run at the bed. He could hardly feel yet alone understand what he was doing. It was the fury the only way he knew to show grief! It was the only way he ever learnt!

"Let me go! Damn you! Damn you! Old man! Get up! Get up! You can't be...you can't leave me too!! You can't! Damn you! Damn you! Damn you! Damn you!"

"My lord..."

The second pair of hands appeared. His slave, Helenus, the Trojan prince and prophet of Apollo. He was holding him firmly. Neoptolemus felt his old warrior muscles beneath his robes. His eyes were almost aflame in fury but Helenus didn't stop; he had seen plenty of death himself, plenty of misery, to be afraid of his new master's potential rage.

"It's over" Helenus said firmly, "Please! Stop this! He is with the gods now...he served his purpose on this life...don't make him have regrets...."

Was it this annoying calmness inside that man's eyes that set Neoptolemus aflame or was it his grief? He didn't know but for once Newoptolemus saw only red. He then felt the sound and feeling of flesh under his hand and before he knew it he saw Helenus stepping back, holding his cheek. His lip was bleeding however the man was standing firm.

"Please" he repeated in that annoying calmness, "Let Hermes claim his soul. You can kill me if you want, you can tear my flesh apart with your bare hands but please do no further here. This place is already contaminated with death. Do not contaminate it further!"

The son of Achilles saw his hand trembling. For one second he saw blood on his fist; the hand that held the sword and the knife. He gasped and stepped back. Wiping his hand to his robe.

"We make port!" he ordered loudly, "We shall bury him at dawn!"

"As you wish..." Helenus whispered bowing his head.

The young king stormed out of the room. He did not feel talking to anyone! On his way out he saw Andromache. His other slave and concubine. She was holding a baby in her arms; the child she had with him at Troy before they departed. Molossus would be his name, Neoptolemus had decided, "tall" "fierce" and "strong". For one second his mind ran back to her face as she held her other son back then; the one he violently yanked away from her arms. She was holding that baby like her life depended on it. This baby she had now she was holding it soullessly, almost out of pure obligation. His eyes shone warningly at her gaze.

"What are you looking at?" he snapped at her before running past her to the edge of the ship. He wanted to demand salt water to cleanse himself. How strange, he thought, so much death and he felt the need to cleanse himself now!

Andromache entered the chamber and her face turned to concern, running to Helenus.

"Are you okay?" she affectionately touched his cheek Helenus winced and flinched away.

"I'm fine. It's just a minor cut!" he affectionately touched her cheek,

"You must get out of here! Do not let yourself be contaminated by death..."

Andromache laughed soullessly.

"How can I be more contaminated than what I already am?" she whispered for his ears only, pointing at the baby in her arms, "How much more can this dead man contaminate me than that monster that sleeps with me and makes me carry his offspring with my king's blood still on his hands!"

"Sh!" Helenus silenced her softly, "Don't speak like that, my queen, he is our master now! If we want to survive we need to be smart."

"I don't care...." Andromache whispered

"But I do" Helenus whispered and blushed, "I care, my queen, I don't want to see you destroyed! This..." and he pointed at his cheeks, "Is nothing. He didn't mean it. I knew he would be unpredictable in his grief. But in his rage, my queen, make no mistake, he is kind to us while we are kind to him. He has a heart for justice deep down"

"He's a monster!"

"He might be..." Helenus agreed, "But even monsters have their reasons. We are here, away from the eyes of our conquerors. He trusts us. Let's not spoil everything..."

He kissed her forehead.

"Be strong and be brave, my queen"

"I no longer am a queen!" Andromache whispered sadly

"You are to me. You always were and always will be"

****

The funeral was small and yet Neoptolemus made sure nothing was missing out of it. He brought magnificent sacrifice at least as magnificent as he could. His slaves were using sulphous to cleanse the ships while the rest of them gathered around the pyre where Phoenix would be burnt with all his possessions and his armor, as he should be. Neoptolemus was standing still most of the time as the offerings were being made. As a prophet and an ex-priest of Troy, Helenus made the funeral prayers and offerings and cut the throats of the sacrificial animals. And then came the flame that was set upon the pyre. Neoptolemus's eyes reflecting the flames, feeling the warmth on his face.

"PHOENIX!"

the cry that was aimed for the dead to find his way to the underworld was heard. Neoptolemus didn't make a sound. He hardly moved any muscle.

"PHOENIX!"

He felt like ready to explode hearing the men speaking up the name that was not meant to be spoken the same way ever again. The man that raised him was gone. He died in the trip towards their destiny. Yet another father figure, the only one he truly had, was gone.

"PHOENIX!"

He gulped. He could do nothing else. He just remained there. He hardly moved as the slaves gathered the ashes and the bones and placed them at the urn or when that urn was placed on the ground and the monument was set over it. Some additional offerings were made. Neoptolemus remained unmoving; no different than a statue or a stone. He didn't move not even when most had long retired towards the funerary celebrations and games which Neoptolemus himself had dictated. Phoenix was dead, burnt and buried; away from their home, away from their homeland and away from the land he would aim to build his legacy. He could hardly feel his surroundings. Andromache slowly was taken away for last with Helenus and he was finally left alone.

Staring at the cold stone for one more time just like with his father...

"Atta..." he heard himself whispering

It had been years since the last time he did and yet now it came so easy to his lips...along with the pair of tears that came to his cheeks

"Atta!"

He knelt by the tomb, touching the cold stone with that blood-stained hand of his...

"Why...you too...why everyone leaves me! You were supposed to be with me! You were supposed to stay with me...!"

What a childish notion! What an idiotic idea! Phoenix was old. Many men before him had kicked the bucket earlier than that and yet the idea of a world without the old man seemed surreal almost fake. Neoptolemus couldn't remember a day in his life in this world where the old man was not there!

"I will do it, old man!" he whispered to the stone, "As you said; i will make it happen for you! You will be proud of me when my name will live for all eternity! You'll see! Wait and see! I'll make you proud!"

Neoptolemus allowed himself to be Pyrrhus one last time...for this man that raised him but when he stood back he was Neoptolemus again; his eyes cold and calculating. The flame inside them that was burning was indeed what Andromache had predicted; the thirst for conquest. That was the last stop of vulnerability, Neoptolemus thought! No more weakness, no more crying! He would make it happen! No matter what the cost!

He turned around...and left.

The only thing left behind was a white flower by the grave.

And even that seemed stained with blood...

*

Hehehehe sorry sorry couldn't help myself! Sorry this is messy I wrote it on the way and no planning was included here! I just thought that it would fit! Sorry if it is sloppy!

Now the "prophetic powers" before death seems to be a common factor for homeric characters who "predict the future" before they die for example Patroclus or Hector

The "prophecy" is inspired by history because not only does Alexander the Great keep the vision of Achilles alive because he descends by the mythical Molossians by Pyrrhus but also we have an actual historical king at the area named Pyrrhus thus in a way the name and the legacy continuing

The custom of calling one's name 3 times in the funeral is also mentioned in Homer's Odyssey when Odysseus offered funeral to his men after Ismarus (Also mentioned to my Ismarus retelling to Part 3)

"Atta" as spoken by Neoptolemus is a real word in ancient Greek that appears even in Homer: ἄττα literally means "old man" but is also a way for children to address a father figure like "uncle" or "dada" so in one way I wanted for the last moment Neoptolemus call Phoenix in a way "father" or "dada" but due to the complexity of the word I thought it would be more fitting to leave it untranslated.

Neoptolemus most likely will be from now on on his way for both his top and his rock bottom.

So yeah...random inspirations. Sorry again this is not like my other fic. Is more sloppy but I hope not terrible

Challenge Time!:

We know that Neoptolemus, according to some sources, started his trip to Epirus to start his own legacy and kingdom along with Phoenix and also his newly acquired slaves; his concubine Andromache and Helenus the prophet. However old Phoenix dies along the way and Neoptolemus has to stop and offer him a burial before continuing

So the challenge goes such:

Neoptolemus genuinely crying over dead or dying Phoenix showing there is still some emotion and emotional connection under the Visage of warrior and king and our psycho that we know.

For me Neoptolemus is kind of associated with blood and the color red (surprise haha), not in a sense of active battle, combat and injury resulted from it but “blood on your hands”, unnecessary violence and innocent casualties.

Just to justify why I have to add it all the time while drawing him.

Oh yes and cameo from Helenus and Andromache.

[dialtonedivine]

quite formal businessmen

and yes, it is a desktop background.

it’s also the profile background thing now

(idk if this gets compressed if you save it from here. if it does, lmk.)

[halinski]

rant in tags about perscription medication and withdrawals

continued here bc i reached tag limit and i'm still??

it's kinda scary tbh

like i was scared for years now of what would happen off my meds and

when i tried tapering off my antidepressants oof i was breaking down every day and now i /know/ i'm dependant on them and idk if that's better or worse

and with the antipsychotics it's like i thought they were helping my depression too bc when tapering off i was also so panicked and depressed (tho my situation is kinda stressful rn)

but idk i've been trying meds on and off for half my life now and most of the time i'm like 🤷

but the truth is

it's fucking scary how it messes with your body

it's fucking scary when you're dependant on a pill

OR ALSO

when pills fuck your body up to the point you can only eat one thing

bc that's the reason i'm going off the antipsychotics and guess what, i'm able to eat more again now

idk if it's just in combination with the hormon pill tbh i'm just going off both now and we'll see how my iron levels and migrains deal lmao

i feel like i can't think straight anymore

gonna have to get new docs anyway so we'll see what they say if(/when) i go anemic again or if going off the antipsychotics will actually fix the issue??

if so, then it'll be like how did this sneak up on me, i've been taking them for 2.5 years like

??

and now i've lost 20lbs despite trying everything to maintain or gain some the past year and a half and i'm at my lowest weight since i was like a preteen lol

and that's all bc of a med that didn't feel like it had an acute effect

or maybe i'm so removed from my body i didn't notice until i got the acute gastritis ??

i mean i can't even be sure its the meds or not until i'm off

and tapering the rest off is gonna be so fun fuck

i dont wanna

i wanna be able to eat more than bread i guess but at this point the thought just scares me and like i associate it with pain and nausea

which as long as i can manage it is fine

but i've only tapered off half, i still have to taper off the other half of the dosage 😭

and with the hormon pill gone again the worst menstrual pain will be back and idk how to manage that, i guess hopefully with the meds gone i won't go anemic again but who knows at this point??

also praying my migraines don't come back but uh... i am pessimistic. i don't have much hope

anyway

moral of the story.....

ALWAYS MAKE SURE TO TAPER OFF YOUR MEDS KIDS BC EVEN JUST TAPERING IS SCARY AND GOING COLD CHICKEN IS PROBABLY HELL

doctors can be annoying (and make things harder, like in my case bc i literally asked if it could be my current meds MONTHS ago, and everyone was like noooooo but guess who was RIGHT) sometimes BUUUUT you should listen to them avout certain things

like

tapering off meds

[realest-nilou-kinnie]

every single time i'm reading anything about him, fan fiction or not, and someone describes him as lazy, i can't help but blurt out loud to myself, "he's not lazy" and sort of roll my eyes. It's in his character bio in the game for crying out loud: he doesn't see the point in trying anymore because every time he has ever tried in his life, he has been shot down and shown that nothing he does will ever matter.

self-indulgent elaboration under the cut

also, i would argue that it's about as clear as can be that he is "rude" on purpose to push people away...because he knows he was born in a silver spoon in his mouth and thinks he doesn't deserve people being nice to him. of COURSE he is snarky and snappy when he gets the chance, he WANTS people to stay away from him. He does NOT, however, want them to talk behind his back, i dont think. We know it hurts him. He doesn't want them to whisper that he's dangerous and he could probably kill everyone within a 50 foot radius with his UM at a moment's notice. Which is true. I think he's afraid of that possibility (and I believe in the novel it's described as being a volatile spell that other second princes have been effectively cursed with, and that he could accidentally kill people around him. That's why he grew up overhearing the palace servants whispering about the spell as if it was already a known UM.)

I know we don't know how he got his scar yet, other than it being something he clearly doesn't want to remember, but I can't help but wonder how he first "got" his UM. It isn't one he developed like Azul did, for example. He was born with that being the UM he would one day manifest. I definitely have ideas about how he got his scar and how it could relate to the advent of a Unique Magic like his, but I DO NOT think he killed or seriously hurt someone. I think the King's Roar spell has been popping up in previous generations of the Sunset Savanah royal family in second-born sons, and the people know it can lay waste to everything around the user. Even the things the user didn't touch or mean to affect start to turn to sand, like the air. Idk i just think his magic hasn't killed someone but I think he and everyone around him knows it could. From past experience, if you will. So maybe he showed signs of it being his UM and people FREAKED out as if he killed someone. That can be really damaging for a kid.

With this in mind, how could it be any clearer that he is trying to push people away? Now, allow me to be a blatant Leona Kisser on main (joke intended, that's my sideblog @leona-kingscholar-kisser LOL), but....HE'S NOT EVEN DOING THAT GOOD OF A JOB OF PUSHING PEOPLE AWAY. BECAUSE HE ISN'T A NATURAL AT IT!!!!! 😭😭😭😭 I'm not saying he craves connection, yet, because i haven't seen his part in book 7, but he definitely is not just meanspirited. He doesn't enjoy pushing people away, he feels that he has no choice in order to not hurt others. Isn't that the most selfless thing of all?

Knowing how he was treated as a child during his formative years, I'd say every glimpse of kindness and generosity and selflessness and passion for life he shows is indicative of someone who is all of those things even more so than it would be for someone who had no adverse childhood experiences. To me, the fact that he is all these things even in the face of the agony he must feel looking in the mirror every day means he is an even better person than someone who only does the right thing to earn praise and be celebrated. Character is doing the right thing even when no one is watching and all that.

I literally could write 50 paragraphs about him with MLA citations, but here is what i mainly wished to impress upon the part of twstblr whom i think are a wee bit confused about his characterization:

examples of Leona not being a massive sack of shit:

he pretends not to notice when Ruggie steals jewelry from him just about daily, but he doesn't outright give it to him because that would be too philanthropic for his image. He lets Ruggie think he's getting away with it. He doesn't want a "thank you" because he thinks he doesn't deserve it

he lets Ruggie bring his own laundry to be washed together with Leona's, while giving him his credit card to buy the nicest detergent and anything else he might want to buy at the Mystery Shop

the reason he doesn't wear his uniform jacket isn't because he just wants to break the dress code or make a statement, it's probably because he gave it to Ruggie. Hence why Ruggie's jacket is massive on him.

he skips his classes because he already knows everything they're teaching. he always shows up for tests, meaning he does keep track of when they are.

- personal note: he had all the NRC-level material drilled into him from a younger age than most as a prince. That level of focus on academics takes away time in your youth that you feel like your peers are spending having fun and having social lives. If i were him, going to classes where everyone around him got to learn something for the first time that he had been forced to memorize years ago would be really hard. It might be a reminder of how he had to grow up too soon. I personally relate a lot to being faced with the reality that every other student in your class didn't have the same amount of academic pressure put on them that you did and wanting to just curl up and cry at your desk. Being in classes where you already know everything or where other kids clearly have a lot less pressure on them can make you feel even more alone and hopeless and unloved than you already felt. it makes you grieve all the weeks and years of feeling like a workhorse instead of a child that you'll never get back. So i guess in that way I'm biased towards him and I completely support him skipping class :'3

he only got held back because of missed attendance. here are two important notes about that, in my opinion:

- firstly, he obviously doesn't want to go home. he also feels unenthusiastic about the 4th year internships even though he's going to take one in his home country and hopes to make some positive changes using his ideas. Still, he knows it will not come with the recognition and appreciation from his family he wants. Even if his ideas for oil mining fracking 🤮 bring great economic growth and can feed the children starving like Ruggie was, I doubt his older brother would see Leona for what he is or praise him as things stand now. hopefully that will come later in the story

- secondly, he wants to be held back and stay at NRC another year so his dorm can win the Spelldrive tournament against Diasomnia. He literally says that's the reason he is so desperate to for HIS TEAM (not him) to win that he puts himself in the position to be the bad guy and make the hard decisions he thinks he has to in Book 2! With the actual Spelldrive team, it's slightly different because Malleus isn't involved. It's interesting. In his Spelldrive Uniform home screen dialogues, he says winning is more important than doing your best... because he thinks his team wouldn't be happy with coming in second even knowing they did their best. I think he is blinded by self-hatred. I don't think what he seems to think is actually true. I think Epel and Jack and Ace and all the Savanaclaw members who bawled their eyes out when they thought he was turned into a Tsum are just happy to receive guidance from him. That makes him different from Azul or Kalim or Idia as housewardens, for example. They literally cry lollll. He knows all his Spelldrive players and they literally never shut the fuck up about how good of a coach he is and how attentive he is to their strengths and weaknesses. He doesn't even try to change them! He doesn't insult or belittle Epel when he wants to train to aim better, he literally just compliments how he is a great player in other ways and tells him not to change a thing. For no reason, bitch. He's such a fucking softie.

he buys us a drink in one of his chats, saying he "knows how to reward good service 😒". oh come on bro you're not fooling anyone, you probably weren't even thirsty anyway

he only went to Playful Land to keep an eye on the underclassmen because he's always like that. smfh

finally, if you pay close attention, he's really only rude to people who disrespect him first. OR to people who try to drag him into annoying shenanigans he doesn't want to be involved with. if someone did all that to me during a depressive episode i'd bite their head off, too -- which is every day because i have major clinical treatment-resistant depression and i feel like i know how he feels. i get where he's coming from :( and then they all STILL call him lazy. that is so fucking mean and hurtful. he is doing what he can. he's just sick. he is enough.

okay that's all i can think of right now i just really wanted to elaborate because AHHHHHHH. AAUUGHHHHH. EEEEEUEUUUUUUUUUUAUAG HE IS NOT LAZY AND HES NOT A DICK HE JUST HATES HIMSELF AND NONE OF IT IS HIS FAULT

and while i'm on the subject, Leona is actually NOT lazy or arrogant or selfish at all but some of yall are not ready for that conversation lol

[erythristicbones]

Hi is it weird to ask what “ptsd nightmare” pills are

I have had ptsd nightmares on the daily for years and I thought I just had to live with it; there’s treatment???????

Oh, well technically the medication my doctor has put me on for my nightmares isn't specifically for nightmares! They have me on Prazosin, which is typically prescribed for blood pressure regulation, but has a side effect of making some people not have dreams/nightmares. So, they put me on a low enough dose that I get that side effect but don't have it affect my blood pressure

[fingertipsmp3]

I wonder what it’s like to be able to kick a habit quickly and easily. I had to do four different things in order to stop biting my nails and I still occasionally fuck up (only when I break a nail but still)

[caffeinatedopossum]

Jesus Christ why are auditory hallucinations so much scarier than visual ones? Like they're not even saying anything to me, it just sounds like voices with no distinguishable words and there's no one else in my house rn so uhh

[diseaseriddencube]

i so badly need to learn how to make video edits, and then make a spring bonnie edit RIGHT NOW

[gargoylesandangels]

I know that probably somebody will say that media is only a distraction or a means to escape, but sometimes things just make you feel, and they stick with you and there is nothing else like that

[gingersnapwolves]

So today I want to talk about puberty blockers for transgender kids, because despite being cisgender, this is a subject I’m actually well-versed in. Specifically, I want to talk about how far backwards things have gone.

This story starts almost 20 years ago, and it’s kind of long, but I think it’s important to give you the full history. At the time, I was working as an administrative assistant for a pediatric endocrinologist in a red state. Not a deep deep red state like Alabama, we had a little bit of a purple trend, but still very much red. (I don’t want to say the state at the risk of doxxing myself.) And I took a phone call from a woman who said, “My son is transgender. Does your doctor do hormone therapy?”

I said, “Good question! Let me find out.”

I went into the back and found the doctor playing Solitaire on his computer and said, “Do you do hormone therapy for transgender kids?” It had literally never come up before. He had opened his practice there in the early 2000s. This was roughly 2006, and the first time someone asked. Without looking up from his game of Solitaire, the doctor said, “I’ve never done it before, but I know how it works, so sure.”

I got back on the phone and told the mom, who was overjoyed, and scheduled an appointment for her son. He was the first transgender child we treated with puberty blockers. But not, by far, the first child we treated with puberty blockers, period. Because puberty blockers are used very commonly for children with precocious puberty (early-onset puberty). I would say about twenty percent of the kids our doctor treated were for precocious puberty and were on puberty blockers. They have been well studied and are widely used, safe, and effective.

Well. It turned out, the doctor I worked for was the only doctor in the state who was willing to do this. And word spread pretty fast in the tight-knit community of ‘parents of transgender children in a red state’. We started seeing more kids. A better drug came out. We saw some kids who were at the age where they were past puberty, and prescribed them estrogen or testosterone. Our doctor became, I’m fairly sure, a small folk hero to this community. 

Insurance coverage was a struggle. I remember copying articles and pages out of the Endocrine Society Manual to submit with prior authorization requests for the medications. Insurance coverage was a struggle for a lot of what we did, though. Growth hormone for kids with severe idiopathic short stature. Insulin pumps, which weren’t as common at the time, and then continuous glucose monitoring, when that came out. Insurance struggles were just part and parcel of the job.

I remember vividly when CVS Caremark, a pharmaceutical management company, changed their criteria and included gender dysphoria as a covered diagnosis for puberty blockers. I thought they had put the option on the questionnaire to trigger an automatic denial. But no - it triggered an approval. Medicaid started to cover it. I got so good at getting approvals with my by then tidy packet of articles and documentation that I actually had people in other states calling me to see what I was submitting (the pharmaceutical rep gave them my number because they wanted more people on their drug, which, shady, but sure. He did ask me if it was okay first).

And here’s the key point of this story:

At no point, during any of this, did it ever even occur to any of us that we might have to worry about whether or not what we were doing was legal.

It just never even came up. It was the medically recommended treatment so we did it. And seeing what’s happening in the UK and certain states in America is both terrifying and genuinely shocking to me, as someone who did this for almost fifteen years, without ever even wondering about the legality of it.

The doctor retired some years ago, at which point there were two other doctors in the state who were willing to prescribe the medications for transgender kids. I truly think that he would still be working if nobody else had been willing to take those kids on as patients. He was, by the way, a white cisgender heterosexual Boomer. I remember when he was introduced to the concept of ‘genderfluid’ because one of our patients on HRT wanted to go off. He said ‘that’s so interesting!’ and immediately went to Google to learn more about it. 

I watched these kids transform. I saw them come into the office the first time, sometimes anxious and uncertain, sometimes sullen and angry. I saw them come in the subsequent times, once they were on hormone therapy, how they gradually became happy and confident in themselves. I saw the smiles on their faces when I gave them a gender marker letter for the DMV. I heard them cheer when I called to tell them I’d gotten HRT approved by insurance and we were calling in a prescription. It was honestly amazing and I will always consider the work I did in that red state with those kids to be something I am incredibly proud of. I was honored to be a part of it.

When I see all this transgender backlash, it’s horrifying, because it was well on the way to become standard and accepted treatment. Insurances started to cover it. Other doctors were learning to prescribe it. And now … it’s fucking illegal? Like what the actual fuck. We have gone so far backwards that it makes me want to cry. I don’t know how to stop this slide. But I wrote this so people would understand exactly how steep the slide is.

[luveline]

hellooo!! im not sure if your requests are open so feel free to ignore this but i was wondering if you could write for tasm!peter where the reader just got her wisdom teeth removed and she’s all loopy on anesthetics and forgets peter is her boyfriend? i saw this video where this girl got her wisdom teeth pulled and forgot she was dating her boyfriend and fell in love with him all over again😭😭

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPR7sGQo5/

thank you for your request! ♡ fem, 1k

"Here she is," the nurse says gently, walking you out with his arm behind your back. "Alright, say hi to Peter." 

"Hi, Peter," you mumble, eyes on the floor. 

Peter grins at you, worry warm at the back of his throat. "Hey. Is that everything?" he asks, nodding at the nurses paper bag of aftercare. 

"Everything you'll need." The nurse helps Peter take over, hoisting your arm over his shoulders before stepping away. "Alright, feel better, okay? And don't hesitate to call if something comes up. We're here to look after you." 

You seem appreciative in your fog, but it's hard to tell. Peter curls his arm around your hip and gives it a soft rub as he leads you to the stairs. Whoever devised the floor plan here had murder on their mind —the second floor is completely inaccessible. Luckily, Peter has a lot of strength at his disposal. 

You can feel it. "Woh, you're strong," you murmur. 

"You know that already." His grip on you tightens, pretty much carrying you down the tight staircase. 

"Do I?" you ask. You make a sound like you're hurting, a squeak. 

"I'd hope so." At the end of the staircase, he sits you down, worried you're not feeling well. "You okay? I can princess carry you if you need me to." 

You look at him with wide eyes. He turns to check there's no one standing behind him, but you're really looking at him. "What?" he asks, touching your knee, imploring. "You look like you've seen a ghost." 

"You're Peter?" you ask. 

Ah, the amnesiac effect of anaesthetic. His touch turns comforting, stroking your thigh with as much care as he can drive into his palm alone. "That's me. Hey, if you're forgetting me, does that mean you're not mad at me for last Friday anymore? 'Cos I know you said you forgive me but I can tell it still pisses you off–" 

Your eyes fall to his hand. "Why would I be mad at you?" you ask. 

"I finished the milk and put the carton back in the fridge, even though I promised I'd stop doing it. You see the jug and think there's milk left. We were gonna have macaroni and cheese..." He nudges your fingers with his. "Are you okay? You don't look like yourself."

"What do I usually look like?" 

"Not so, you know. Daunted." 

"You're really handsome," you whisper, refusing to meet his eye. 

"Oh, you think so?" 

You nod like your head is too heavy. You're embarrassed, you sweetheart, oh my god Peter could cry into your lap. 

"Let's get you to the car, baby." 

"Where are we going?" The gauze gives you the world's most adorable lisp, and it turns your gasp into a hum as Peter stands you up. 

"Home." 

"Together?" 

"Yeah, we live together. It's a nice place, and you're a great decorator, you know? It's cozy." 

"Thank you," you say shyly. 

You're not not shy with him, but it's been a long time since you got so quiet over a practically innocuous comment. He wants to see how you'll react to real compliments, over the top stuff that he one hundred percent means. It's a little mean, but when will you ever be like this again? 

He helps you out past the desk and onto the street to your car where it's parked a half a block down. "Don't worry about all this, okay? I'm gonna take such good care of you, sweetheart. There's an ice pack and a brand new comforter with your name on it waiting at home." Peter smiles at your starry eyes as they flash to his, amazed at his simple plans. "How does that sound, beautiful? Is there anything you want before we head home? Anything that would make you feel better?" 

"You're gonna take care of me?" you ask breathlessly. 

"That's my job. That's my number one boyfriend duty." 

"You're my boyfriend?" 

"I am!" he says happily, laughing as he speaks. "For a while. I've been trying to take things further but you're always really shy about getting married–" 

"You want to get married? To me?" 

Peter presses a soft kiss to your cheek. "You're the only person I'd ever want to get married to. We already picked the flowers–" 

"We did?" 

He laughs again, all your questions. He loves regular you but loopy you is especially endearing. "Last time I got super drunk, yeah. You never let me forget it." 

"So you love me?" you ask, stopping short.

"I love you so much," he says immediately, hugging you into his side. He dots another kiss against the top of your head. "You should remember that even if you don't remember me." 

"I love you," you say quietly. 

Peter doesn't know if that's your memory returning, or if you've fallen in love with him in the last fifteen minutes. He could easily fall in love with you that quickly, and yet he's still amazed at your confession. 

"That's good. That's great. Thank you, sweetheart," he says, desperate to hold your face in his hands but weary of causing you future pain. "There's your car," —he points, lowering his head to yours to make sure you can see it, hand now protectively held between your shoulder blades— "let's go home now. Yeah?" 

You start walking again at his requests. He can pretty much see the steam rising off of your face, giddy with happiness at these revelations. You're together, you're in love, and you think he's handsome. He wonders what you'll have to say about his biceps in this state of delirium; you go crazy for his arms sober. 

Which reminds him. 

"I totally have another secret to tell you," he says, unlocking the car as you approach and helping you into the passenger seat. 

"What is it?" you ask. 

Peter closes you in and skirts around the door, climbing into the driver's seat. He's glad that New York is as ridiculously loud as ever, because not even the closed doors or your sodden gauze can smother the way you shriek.

"My boyfriend is Spider-Man?!" 

[chuluoyi]

࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 02:33 P.M 」

based on this video. this idea has been rotting in my brain for some while :') dad gojo will always have a soft spot in my heart <3

a part of gojo's love entries

your baby’s first trip to aquarium was such a cute affair you were sure you wouldn’t forget anytime soon.

“waaa~” your baby’s eyes were gleaming with wonder as he gazed at the diverse array of colorful fishes above him, completely captivated by the view.

and your husband...

“aren’t they pretty, hmm?” satoru asked his adorable son with a grin, pecking his cheek and holding him snugly in the baby carrier against his chest, with a backpack of baby essentials strapped on his back.

he was the very vision of a domestic dad, and along with your son, who was dressed in a bear onesie, complete with two little ears, they made a really irresistible pair. even you couldn’t fault the crowd for staring at them.

“fwaa! waa~” your munchkin was squirming with joy, his tiny fingers stretching out towards the sight before him. satoru giggled, moving closer to the glass to give his baby a better view.

“look! that’s clownfish! and those wiggly flowers are anemone! and that is—”

he faltered at a fish passing in his view before deciding, “this— i don’t know, but it’s the clownfish’s friend!”

they are basically the same. your little boy and your husband, both of them clearly shared a brain cell as they happily pointed out different fishes.

“meh! hehe!” your baby babbled away, excited and incredibly happy in his father’s hold, and satoru too seemed to feel the same, as his eyes beyond that sunglasses crinkled.

“damn, my kid is so cute.”

suddenly he dived down and pretended to chew his pumpkin’s chubby cheeks, effectively making him squeal in glee.

and oh lord, the way your heart skipped a beat seeing that. it was so clear how much satoru adored your baby, and it made overwhelming warmth rush to your chest.

“he’s a good man,” an elderly lady beside you suddenly remarked, making you turn to her. “not many men do that for their kids.”

“he is…” you agreed with a shy smile.

“it’s a shame that you only have one baby,” the elderly man beside her—possibly her husband—added. “you’re still young and he is so good with them too.”

your heart swelled and would’ve already burst if it was possible. bashfully, you thanked the elderly pair as they went on their way.

and along the way, you received similar hushed comments and adoring looks—

“oh my! their baby is so cute!”

“how can such family exists?! the dad, mom, baby… all three of them are so good-looking!”

“such a hot dilf! can’t he divorce his wife and marry me instead? i’ll be his kid’s stepmother gladly!”

satoru pretended not to hear, but he clearly held back his laugh. you threw the school girl who carelessly blurted that a pointed look, making her scurry away.

and after the three of you were done walking around the aquarium, you stopped by the gift shop to get your baby his first fish pet.

your son suddenly became fussy, and satoru unclasped him from the carrier. “hmm? do you want mama?” he handed him over to you. “here, here~ mama wants to hold you too~”

as soon as your son was settled in your embrace, he giggled, and you couldn’t help but bounce him and coo. “do you have fun? you do, don’t you?”

it might not visible to others, but now satoru was staring at both of his reasons of being with literal stars in his eyes.

several years ago, he thought his life had stopped when his best friend negated his beliefs entirely, but you were there, holding his hand throughout it all. and then you married him— and then, you gave him a son to dote on.

you keep giving his life a new meaning. and he was thankful for that.

. . . meanwhile, you kept hearing whispers from a gaggle of girls in the next aisle, about how much of a dreamboat your husband in his blue shirt was and it was grating at your nerves so much that you pursed your lips into a total pout.

satoru thought you were the cutest, not even second to his baby, and he decided he wasn’t known for public decency anyway so he dived in and pecked your lips—dispelling any stray thoughts and making you flush in an instant.

“sato—!”

and before you could rebuke him, he whispered in your ear:

“so... baby number two, when?”

[nightingale-prompts]

You are not Special- DC X DP Prompt

Interdimensional God-like beings are not known for their patience, however it looked like they had gotten lucky.

This being that had been summoned against its will to their universe was actually quite calm. They sat back on a makeshift throne made by the cultists that had brought them here. Its body was the form of a young man draped in silk. He paid little mind to the cult bowing and scraping at his feet as he absentmindedly examined his nails for anything under them. They were as pristine as his marble-like form.

"You know cults get a bad reputation in these modern times." He said not looking up at the heroes who had invaded his sanctuary intent on sealing him away. "Not without cause of course. But not every cult is evil. As oxymoronic as that sounds. But it used to mean a group of people devoted to their god of choice, no different than any other religion except they lived solely to dedicate their lives to it. No tricks or schemes, just beliefs. None of that sacrifice or blood here though. I like cleanliness and a good batch of dessert for my alters."

"We aren't here to give your offerings." Batman said simply.

The teen stretched lazily and shrugged.

"You are free to just pray, take a rest, eat, or do whatever you want."

"You don't belong here. You must return to your own realm." Superman said fimly but cordially.

The cultists panicked as they looked between their god and the heroes. Some had disdain etched on their faces others had sadness.

"Don't belong? I do what I want. Who are you people to tell ME what to do? Do you own this planet? This universe?" The god challenged.

"We are the protectors of this planet. Surely you understand that we can't let you stay here using humans like servants." Superman retorted.

Constantine had a bad feeling about what came next as he got between everyone to speak.

"Sorry, forgive him. We don't want to offend. It's just that our universe has had enough beings like you causing issues in the past. We are a bit exhausted because every major event seems to hit our planet. We are a bit defensive."

The teens's lip curled.

"Do you think you are the only planet with such woes? How conceited. What you believe that your little planet is so special that it is the only one subject to the powers of beings you can't control? As we speak there a thousands of beings influencing this world that have a bigger effect than what I'm currently doing. Are you tired of being the playthings of the universe? Bah! The universe doesn't care one bit what goes on on this little planet over the billions of planets in this universe. You are no more special than a bit of algae on a frozen world." The teen sneered.

"But that doesn't change the fact that we would like one less threat to deal with," Batman said as Constantine tried to shut him up. "Even if you do not care about humans, we care what you can do to us."

"A good point but I never said I didn't care. I'm actually fond of humans but no more fond of them than any other lifeforms. There are billions of aliens in this universe alone. But not one is special because all life is special. Not one is better. But any damage I could possibly do to you could easily be done by the many unseen gods of this realm. These beings have built this world from those that actively created it, ignore it, and those that don't even realize it exists. Could you believe that your own creator doesn't know you are there? It's actually very common."

"You're dodging the question and talking in circles. We just want you to leave." Batman sighed irritably.

"You keep telling me to leave. I have just arrived but I've also always been here. Is this how you greet me?" The teen crossed his arms.

"Are you a god of this world?" Wonder Woman stepped forward this time. "You dress like that of a Roman god."

"Do you like it? I got it from Rome a few thousand years ago."

Well, he never failed to turn something into a compliment, that's for sure.

"But that's a complicated question. If you're asking if I made your universe then, no. If your asking if it exists because of me then, yes. It exists because I do. It's my nature. So I'm not a god. I'm a law of nature." The boy leaned back and kicked his feet childishly.

"You look like a kid." Clark blurted.

"Well... you're right. But you didn't have to point it out." He pouted.

"I mean, you just look...like a person. Not a force of nature." Clark quickly corrected.

"I look like what you can perceive me as. Can't ask a two-dimensional creature to understand three dimensions. Think of me as an anthropomorphic personification of a concept." The teen stood up finally and walked around his bowing worshippers.

"And what are you?" Batman said stiffly as the boy reached him.

"I am the Void. The absence of force or untethered space and infinite possibilities. A place of raw unprocessed energy. So if I exist then a tethered space with one string of possibilities exists. Think string theory." The boy laughed.

"Wait, I know what you are. You're an Ancient, an Endless. I thought I'd get a break from your lot after Morpheus." Constantine said.

The group turned to Constantine in surprise, not surprised that he knew what the kid was but that he had done this before.

"Look, kid. Your lot don't show themselves often. Especially not in front of so many people. You'd usually lay low among mortals." Constantine said suspicious of the young Endless. "Do the others know you are playing around?"

The teen presses his lips together. He glares like someone has ruined his game.

"Should I try summoning them and ask." Constantine smirked, he knew he found his in.

"You wouldn't." He frowned.

"I would." Constantine said "Unless you want to go home on your own."

The boy tried to protest but a portal opened on its own and a hand reached out grabbing the boy by the ear.

"What are you doing in the mortal realm this time?! I told you to focus on fixing the timelines not playing god like a child!" The voice boomed.

"But Clockwork-" The teen whined as he was dragged through the portal "I was just pulling a prank. I swear!"

The boy's voice was muffled and distant as he got to the other side. Then the prtal closed and it was over.

The room went silent.

"He was right. There is nothing special about any life form over another. But that also means he is no different than a human child and held to the same standards." Constantine said lighting a cigarette before leaving the ruins. "You can handle the rest right?"