#but i'm doing a lot better (and i'm medicated!!!)

[witherby]

What would happen if Mouse got sick? Like super, probably at deaths door kind of sick? ok maybe that last part was exaggerating it a bit...But like almost 39 degrees fever, coughing to the point of gagging and vomiting, runny nose, fatigue, no appetite for anything, etc. Based off my own experiences when I get sick. I wanna know what they would do and who would panic the most. Who would lose the little sleep they already have even more. Who would think that the babeh is at deaths door. And who would be the most relieved when Mouse is better a few days later with the help of a paediatric approved medication

-🍨

I like this prompt a lot so I'm gonna do it. Hope u reaaaally like angst tho.

The Littlest Wayne: Sick Bed, part 1

Masterlist is Here!

⚠️ Spoiler/content warning: Young sick child, fever, depiction of seizure ⚠️

It starts with a cough.

"Hey, careful," Jason says, patting your back. The water you'd been sipping sprays across the table as you choke. Tim reaches over to right the glass and Alfred goes and collects a rag to mop up the mess. "You okay?"

"Mhmm," you mutter, wiping your mouth with a napkin. "Sorry...I can clean it, grandpa Alfie."

"It's quite alright, Flittermouse." Alfred gently runs a hand through your hair. "Oh, my, you're quite warm. Why don't you head up to your room and I'll have someone bring a tray to you with soup and crackers?"

"Okay." You push your chair away from the table and duck underneath it, allowing the shadow of the furniture to swallow you up. Bruce watches the dark blob you've become slide out of the dining room and towards the stairs with less energy than usual.

"I'll take it, Alfred," Dick says before anyone else can volunteer, rising from his seat. He sets his leftovers in front of Jason as he passes, helping the butler prepare a tray for you. "Do we have any Tylenol for little kids? If not, I can just crush up a half-pill for them."

"Child-friendly medications will be found in the young master's en-suite bathroom cabinet," Alfred says. "It will just be a few minutes for the soup, Master Dick. I'd recommend you head upstairs and measure out a small dose for your sibling before it's ready."

"Kay, sure," he nods, excusing himself.

Dick hops up the stairs two at a time and enters the family wing of the manor, trailing his hand along the walls and door frames until he finds yours. He knocks lightly and rapidly, a silly little sequence to let you know which brother it is, then opens the door to let himself in.

Your bedroom is almost pitch black. Since the development of your powers, your space has changed to reflect your needs overtime, which means the overhead lightbulbs have been removed and the sheer, pastel blinds over your window have been replaced with thick blackout curtains. For your family who require some form of illumination to see, you have several night lights you pick and choose from; you currently have a round projector plugged in that casts aurora borealis across the ceiling (a gift from Tim) and you've activated the touch sensors installed in the floor that briefly light up everywhere Dick walks, leaving his footprints behind for several seconds until they fade away.

The furniture you originally had, designed in warm, woody colors with bright accents, have also been replaced with black hardware and dark materials. Your bed frame is a dip-dyed wood with silver accents, your mattress and sheets are black, and your dressers, nightstand, and closet have all been painted to match.

At first glance, the large bedroom looks like every goth kid's biggest dream, but the light from the hallway spills briefly into your space when Dick walks inside, showing the bright, colorful books sitting on your black bookshelves, the even more colorful clothes in your wardrobe, your vast collection of toys, and a litany of pictures and photos on all the walls. There is a vibrant, beautiful life in the darkness, which encapsulates you perfectly in his opinion.

"Hi, Flitty," he greets, moving slowly as his eyes adjust to the light. "Alfred's working on your soup, so big bro Dicky's here to do medicine time. Holler at me so I don't accidentally step on you in here."

"Okay," you say from his left. Dick turns and squints, spotting a lump on your bed. He smiles.

"There you are. Lemme see if there's any of the gummies in your med cabinet. Those ones don't taste all gross."

He steps into your bathroom and turns the fairy lights on, bathing the area in a soft glow, and rifles through your cabinet for a minute. Then he makes his way to your bed, sitting on the edge of it with some chewables and a glass of water.

"C'mere," he says, and you comply, shuffling across the bed to give him a quick hug. "Alright. Can you show me you're a big kid and take this for me? Then you'll get a nice bowl of soup and maybe some juice."

You comply without fuss. Dick hears more than he sees you take the medication in the low light, and you go back to hugging him when you're done. Dick wraps his arms around you and lies down, propping you mostly on his chest.

"You okay?" He asks.

"Yeah. Just sleepy," you reply. "And my throat hurts kinda, from when I spit my water."

"Aw, I'm sorry. You only need to stay awake long enough to take a couple bites and then you can rest as long as you want."

"Okay...stay?"

Dick hums, running his fingers gently through your hair. He was supposed to go back to Blüdhaven this afternoon, but...

"Yeah, Flitty. I'll stay."

--

It turns into a fever.

"I'm sorry to turn you away when you've already come by, Delilah," Bruce says, meeting your private tutor in the vestibule. "Mouse came down with something yesterday, and I don't think they'll be up for lessons for the next few days. I forgot to tell you."

"Oh, that's absolutely no problem, mister Wayne," the tutor smiles, shaking her head. "I wish them a speedy recovery! Let me know if there's anything you need."

"I will, thank you. Take care!"

Bruce closes the door after seeing her out, the Charming Socialite mask slipping off his face as he heads for the stairs. He meets Alfred at the top with a nod, stepping past him and walking up to your bedroom door.

He gently knocks three times against the glossy wood, calling your name. "Can I come in?"

After a moment, he watches it click open, and you squint up at him in the doorway.

"Hi, daddy," you croak, voice dry and harsh from the progression of your flu. Bruce tuts and scoops your clammy body into his arms, carrying you back to your bed.

"Honey, you didn't have to come greet me," he says, "manners get thrown out the window when you're sick, remember? Let's get you tucked in."

You don't fuss or complain, which makes the worry flare up in Bruce's mind. He pushes it back, refusing to catastrophize a cold. All of his children get sick, it's not unheard of. A little fever is fine, and so is your lack of excitable energy. It's normal and expected.

"How do you feel?" He asks, pulling the blankets up to your chest. You squirm a bit, kicking them down.

"Hot," you say, "sleepy."

Bruce compromises by tucking the blanket around your tummy instead. You don't push it down any further. He pulls out a thermometer from his pocket and scans your forehead.

"Yeah, you are running a bit hot," he admits. An even one hundred degrees. Should be easy enough to control with careful attention. "Alfred says you refused breakfast this morning. Do you want to try eating something small for lunch? More soup?"

You shake your head. "Not hungry."

"I know you're not hungry, pumpkin," Bruce says, gently squeezing your hand. "But you don't wanna starve, either. Then you'll shrink up like a raisin! How am I supposed to snuggle a raisin?"

You smile a bit and give a wheezy huff of laughter. Bruce smiles back.

"So, will you try? You can have anything you want. I just need to see you take a few bites of something."

"Okay, daddy. Want...um... I want more soup please."

"You can have more soup," Bruce promises, running a hand through your sweatslick hair. He reminds himself to run you a bath in a couple hours. Maybe after a nap. "Do you want anything else?"

"Mmmyeah. Bedtime story?"

"Yeah," he says. "Any story you want, after we get some soup in you."

You smile again. It eases the knot of dread in Bruce's chest.

--

It gets worse.

Three days into it, your fever spikes in the middle of the night. You completely refuse any sort of food or drink all day, despite the angry growling of your stomach, and the family unanimously decides to bring you to the hospital in the morning to get looked at. Dinner without you is full of worry and tense glances toward the family wing, and it seems like not a lot of sleep is going to be had before they find out the total extent of your illness.

When tossing and turning in bed for a few hours doesn't lead him anywhere, Damian decides to give in to the nagging in the back of his head and pop in your room to check on you. He rushes to your bed when he sees you seizing and gasping for breath. Your temperature's shot up to a hundred and six and you don't react when he tries to shake you awake.

Fearful and, for once, feeling every bit the child he still is, he clutches your body to his chest and screams.

"BABAA!!"

The door slams open in seconds, though to him it feels like an eternity. Hal and Jason are coaxing Damian to let go of you and Bruce climbs on the bed to roll you onto your side, carefully wiping the foam and drool away from your mouth while he checks your vitals. Tim is in the hallway calling 9-1-1 and texting Dick to let him know what's happening.

"Dami, you gotta move," Jason says, placing his hands overtop his brother's. Damian's grip on your arm is so tight it's bruising. "Let go, they're okay. Let go."

"I'm tracking their pulse, you dumb bastard!" Damian snaps. "Release me!"

"You're hurting them, Dames," Hal says in his ear, wrapping his arms around Damian's waist. "Bruce has them, now. You have to let go and get out of the way for the paramedics."

Green eyes snap to your arm. He seems to finally take stock of what he's doing and eases off, letting Hal pick him up and pass him off to Jason, who carries him into the hallway.

"Stay out here," Jason says. "It's our job to keep out of the way for now."

"Who's going to let the paramedics in?" Damian asks, trying to pry himself out of Jason's grip. As much as he tries to crane his neck, Jason's standing too far away from your door to let him see how you're doing, and his iron grip is unyielding.

"Alfred's by the gate controls, he'll let them inside."

Tim gets off the phone with the emergency dispatcher and glances at your door with a frown. Every hitching gasp and choke you make can be heard from the hall, along with Bruce and Hal's barely-concealed, panicked murmuring, and he crosses his arms tightly and shuffles over to Jason now that his task is done.

"Can we wait downstairs?" He mutters. Jason keeps one arm wrapped around Damian and slings the other around Tim's shoulders, guiding them to the staircase.

"I want to stay!" Damian insists, pulling against Jason, who ends up needing to sling the little assassin over his shoulder to get him to move. "Todd!!"

"Robin," Jason snaps in his best Batman impersonation. It's a damn good one, because Damian quiets immediately, stiffening in his arms and ceasing his struggling without further protest. Tim freezes beside him, but Jason just pats his back and keeps guiding him down the stairs.

The trio is quiet as they file into the main living room. Jason and Tim sit on the couch and Damian gets propped up in his brother's lap. Try as he might, he can't wiggle out of Jason's arms.

"This is asinine," he hisses. "I should be up there."

"Doin' what?" Jason asks. "Bruce and Hal are both in there with Mousey. Alfred's about to guide the EMTs inside. Tim called 911 and then told Dick the situation. You were the one that first found 'em and got help."

Jason gives Damian a squeeze, propping his chin on top of his head.

"You saved their life, Damian. Ya don't need to do more than that right now. Let the grown-ups take the reins for a while."

"But I —"

"You've done more than enough," Jason insists, not unkindly. His tone has been uncharacteristically soft the whole time, Damian realizes belatedly. "I'm sure they'll thank you when they come out the other side of this."

Damian didn't do it for your thanks. He did it because he loves you. Despite you quickly approaching the age where Bruce might offer you the Robin mantle soon, which has filled him with more anxiety and anger than he's had in a long time, he loves you dearly and doesn't want anything to befall you.

In spite of everything, he's your big brother and he loves you just as much as he can't stand you.

"They will be fine," he mutters firmly. "There's no alternative."

"Right," Tim speaks up. He sounds like he needs the reassurance just as much as Damian. "M is gonna be okay."

The three of them turn their heads when several pairs of footsteps enter the vestibule. Four paramedics rush in with a stretcher and duffel bags of medical equipment. Alfred orders them in the direction of your bedroom with simple, firm instructions, and they head off.

The butler then turns, spotting them out of his periphery, and he clears his throat and adjusts the belt around his robe. He's still in his sleepwear, having rushed out of bed to help prep for the emergency like everyone else.

"I've had my fair share of exciting nights," he comments, "but I must say, they never become more enjoyable. Why don't you all join me in the kitchen and I'll prepare some drinks? Hot chocolate should suffice on a chilly evening."

"Sounds fantastic," Jason says, hopping to his feet. He lifts Damian up with him, denying him the chance to refuse, and with a glance and jerk of his chin, coaxes Tim to get up and follow after.

"Put me down," Damian says, reaching up to tug on Jason's night shirt. "I won't run back upstairs. I swear."

"Yeah? You double-swear? Don't make me chase you, kid, I really do not have the patience."

"On Father's life," he insists.

Jason sets him on the floor. Damian follows them into the kitchen and takes a seat at the island, cupping his hands around a warm mug of hot cocoa when Alfred hands it to him a couple minutes later. He watches the wisps of steam curl up into the air and dissipate, unable to stop thinking about your writhing body in bed. Your eyes had rolled back and your limbs had locked up, jerking uncontrollably. And the noises you were making...

The mug gives a foreboding creak under his grip. Alfred gently places his hand on Damian's back and gives it several soft pats.

"Do not fret, master Damian," he says, "our little Flittermouse is very resilient. An illness turning poorly won't keep them down for long."

"I know," he says. Alfred nods, and with a final brush against his shoulder, tends to Tim next to ensure he's also doing okay. When Damian looks at Jason, he sees him calmly drinking from his mug without so much as a furrow in his brow. But there's an almost imperceptible ricketing noise that means he's bouncing his leg nervously. It makes his stomach twist almost painfully, to know he's just as scared as everybody else.

Damian takes a deep breath. He sips his coco. He thinks of the froth pouring out of your mouth when Bruce rolled you into the recovery position. He puts the mug down.

He knows you'll be okay. You have to, because he just can't live with the alternative.

[moonblossom7]

Baby Daddy!Logan thoughts

Wolverine x AFAB! reader

a/n: go into all of my x-men fics n stuff with canon as a mere suggestion :) this one's pretty ok,but yk. For future reference.

contents: fluff, girl dad!Logan,a kid b4 marriage(accidental but wanted),slight angst sprinkled in,lightly suggestive in one bit but it's not full nsfw or anything

🌸 Logan didn't mean to get you pregnant and he was honestly upset when you first found out. He was happy for you,bc you wanted kids but he didn't think he deserved to be a father.

🌸 Once he decided he was sticking around (because let's be honest,there was some part of him that thought leaving so you could find someone better was the move) he's very attentive.

🌸and I'm not just talking "oh,he goes to every check up and rubs your feet" I'm talking he will hike ten miles in the snow at 2 a.m if you're craving something specific and will return with a smile on his face because yeah,that was tough but you're growing a kid,which is harder.

🌸really wanted you to have a home birth,mainly because he doesn't trust medical situations,especially if you and the baby are also mutants. (and if you still do it at the hospital,he is fucking VIGILANT. He's watching every fucking thing that happens like a hawk.)

🌸you have a girl ofc

🌸he's never really been around kids this little,so for a long time he doesn't know what to do with her.

🌸he uses Jean's Facebook to look at parenting tips(he later learns this is not the greatest source),and consequentially ends up buying a ton of stuff that your daughter is too young to even need off Marketplace (bikes,clothes meant for much older kids,rain boots,jungle gym,etc.)

🌸he hates!! Hates!! those little tutus that seem to be on every little girl onesie, he thinks the tulle is scratchy and how on earth could someone subject their baby to that?

🌸a lot of the clothes your daughter winds up wearing are pretty gender neutral and frequently thrifted or bought from small businesses. Logan says this is because modern,mainstream baby clothes are "Down right fucking hideous,who designs this shit?"

🌸he makes some of her toys. A small set of wooden blocks here, a patchy ugly teddy bear there. He just doesn't love the unnaturally bright colors and loud noises that most baby toys come with,plus,he's got a lot of affection he doesn't know what to do with.

🌸hates late night diaper changes with a passion. He only just started sleeping without nightmares,and the baby won't even let him get a full 8 hours?? He takes all of them though,because "you do the more important stuff"

🌸big fan of the way your appearance changed,btw. I personally think he's always been the type to find stretch marks and some squish attractive,but the fact that these are from you growing his little girl makes it all the more beautiful.

🌸he is not,however,a fan of having to wait until you're healed up for bedroom stuff. He can do it, he's not an animal,but you're just so fucking gorgeous and he's so fucking happy. But,your health comes first, and he's not so stupid as to think he knows better than you on this.

🌸he doesn't quit smoking,but does at least start going outside and wearing a different jacket when he does it. He always washes his hands and face after he's done before he does anything near the baby.

🌸since this is *my* personal x-men canon, we're going to say that Laura is around the mansion somewhere and is not overly hyped about the baby sister. She's a little possessive over her dad,as some little girls are. (She'll get over it soon,especially once the baby is old enough to play with)

🌸Logan takes the baby on adventures once she's old enough to not get sick over everything. He'll pack a bag and disappear with Laura and the baby for a few hours,with very little explanation, and come back with a snoring toddler and a 10 year old covered in mud.

🌸he's happy that this kid has his mutation in it's organic form,instead of being injected with metal. however,it does make her stick out a bit visually. (she begins to display it at around age 11,with claws that aren't super sharp at all compared to Logan and Laura)

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

ok so that's it lolsies. Lmk if you want anything else with this idea or any specific scenarios.

[is-this-fascism]

i found this on a joke post about first aid, but it's hard to tell how serious this person is being so i feel the need to clarify and maybe help some people learn some basic first aid. this is going to be for small, superficial cuts to the skin.

healthcare isn't free, but gauze and superglue are cheap

in today's political climate, who knows when you're going to have to rely on yourself. plus, as an American, i'm only $3000 in medical debt, all from avoiding hospitals after learning to treat myself, so you can trust me. (i am not a trained medical professional and am speaking from personal experience and research)

i'm going to start by saying you should approach personal first aid with an understanding that at any moment, you might have to accept that you can't treat this on your own and you will need to go to a hospital. just make sure it's always an open possibility in your mind. it's not a quitter's attitude, but actually an incredibly smart attitude. it's much more dangerous to push yourself past your limits over spite or stubborness or fear of debt or judgement. i'm especially talking to those of you who might have some kind of shame about self-inflicted injury.

it can be very healing and nice to tend to your own wounds, but ALWAYS be prepared to need help, and be prepared to make the decision quickly by knowing exactly what consititutes a medical emergency that is out of your scope. i talk about a couple of those scenarios in this post.

cleaning and medicating:

so first of all, for the love of GOD do NOT LICK YOUR WOUNDS. there's some factoid out there about spit having 'healing compounds' but you know what else spit has? LOTS OF BACTERIA. people get nasty tooth infections for a reason.

you don't need soap either. nor do you need iodine or hydrogen peroxide. if your wound is dirty enough that it needs soap, you should just go to the ER. soap will not stop a deep, rusty wound from giving you lockjaw.

you SHOULD rinse your wound with clean, lukewarm water. no pressure-washing, okay? just a gentle rinse. you can use soap to clean the area surrounding the wound, but don't put soap IN your wound. after rinsing, dab (don't rub) the wound dry.

a topical anti-bacterial (not anti-septic) cream or gel will do the heavy lifting in preventing infection. use a q-tip or clean fingertip to apply enough to completely cover the wound in a thin layer, then wrap it up.

wrapping:

band-aids are kind of a scam, yeah. they're okay on fingers. gauze is NOT a scam, though. the worst thing gauze can do is keep your wound too moist, but that's why it's reccomended to change the wrapping regularly. i prefer wrap gauze over pad gauze and bandaids. it's a bit excessive and makes me look like i just came out of the operating room over a papercut, but it's secure. if the gauze keeps falling off, replace it and wrap it better next time. sorry, that's just a skill issue. our limbs are mostly round and easy to wrap. anywhere you get gauze, you can also get gauze tape, which does what you think it does.

gauze holds the wound closed, keeps any medicine you applied in contact with the wound, and keeps dust and debris from the outside world away from the wound. use 2-3 layers of gauze directly applied to a clean wound and wrapped around the limb. just change it at least once a day. while you're changing the gauze, rinse the wound again and re-apply any topical anti-bacterial medicine. depending on the severity of the wound, you should only have to do this for a 3-5ish days. if there are signs of infection, it's a good idea to keep applying the medication every day even after you stop wrapping.

stopping bleeding:

the other main thing gauze does is stop bleeding. if the wound is deep or in a highly vascularized area, and the bleeding won't stop on its own, applying pressure with clean gauze will help. if it doesn't stop bleeding after a full five minutes of pressure, you're going to need to close the wound.

IF THIS IS SEVERE, I.E. IT IS GUSHING, THERE'S A SIGNIFICANT AMOUNT OF BLOOD COMING OUT, IT'S SOAKING THROUGH MULTIPLE LAYERS OF GAUZE, YOU'RE GETTING WOOZY AND LIGHTHEADED, ETC. GET EMERGENCY HELP IMMEDIATELY.

deep tissue damage:

if it's just trickling some blood but it won't stop, it's likely not dangerous, only annoying. depending on the location, it's a good idea to assess if there could be any deep tissue damage, like a tendon, muscle, bone, nerves, or large vein. typically you'll be able to tell pretty quickly due to pain and loss of function. if you cut a tendon, for example, you'll lose mobility down the anatomical line. if you cut a nerve, there will be an electric burning sensation or numbness and loss of mobility. most of these structures move out of the way of a piercing cut, but a slicing cut can easily sever things. research what the signs of various types of deep tissue damage are so you can be prepared to report it to a medical team, because you're going to need to go the ER for that one too.

closing a wound:

if there's no deep tissue damage and you feel you can close this wound on your own, the first thing to try is binding. clean the wound, apply medicine if needed (might be difficult with trickling blood but just do your best), and just wrap the thing up with gauze. wrap it tight, not so tight that you lose circulation, but enough to stabilize the edges of the wound so they don't slip or seperate. this won't work if the wound is in a highly mobile area like near a joint, or in an area with tight skin that pulls away from itself, like over the shin bone.

the second option is superglue. this works best with short cuts, no longer than half an inch. it's a good idea to have medical grade superglue in your first aid kit, because it's formulated to be totally safe, but regular hardware superglue is essentially the same thing and will perform the same function, and a drop of it to close up a skin wound isn't going to hurt you. just don't drip it into your eyes, mouth, other holes and orifices, or directly into any open wounds. yes, i knew this for years before the veritasium video about it.

to use superglue to close a wound, first clean the wound and apply whatever medicine. if you can, a light tourniquet to slow down the bleeding might make it easier. i've used hairties on my fingers and shoelaces on my forearm. just don't make it tight. you just want to slow the bleeding enough to keep the wound clear for a couple seconds. the thing is, superglue will cure FASTER when it's in contact with blood (or water), and youre going to want a bit of working time.

position your joints so the skin around the wound is loose. apply a drop of superglue to the outside edge of one side of the wound. NOT inside the wound but as close to the edge as you can get it. it's honestly fine if a little bit gets into the wound. place a finger and thumb on either side of the wound, not touching the glue, and then just pinch it closed. hold it until it cures. clean the wound again with just water and check if the bleeding is contained. if you did it right, there shouldn't be any blood seeping out around the edges of the glue. if there is, it should stop pretty quickly. if it doesn't, apply another drop without pinching and let it cure on top of the wound.

third option for closing your wound is to learn how to suture. if you can sew, you have a leg up here. you don't need a medical degree to suture your own wounds, although if you do a bad job and go to the ER to get it redone, they might laugh or scold you. so this isn't difficult, nessecarily, but it's pretty advanced and it will take prior research and practice before anyone should be confident poking threads through their skin. i've never done this, i just stick to glue and gauze and those have worked fantastically for even really bad and bleedy cuts i've had.

go forth and deny, defend, depose. while you're at it, learn to grow veggies too

[fissart]

https://www.tumblr.com/fissart/773942638075379712/whats-your-rook

Does he get pregnant 👀

Maybe 👀

Big storytime below 💖

When Quinton and Emmrich return to the Necropolis, they both face a lot of challenges settling back in. They had gotten engaged almost immediately, which created a bit of gossip amongst fellow Mourn Watchers. "Professor Volkarin- who took a year off from teaching to go and save the world has come back ENGAGED to that Ingellvar of all people. The nobody who caused a stir amongst the nobility, the one who went to war with the gods" suffice to say, not everyone was pleased with a respectable person like Emmrich to have paired off with Ingellvar. And in turn this created a lot of stress for them both, but mostly Quinton, who felt more insecure in his position beside Emmrich. (Quinton always had self-worth issues, having had an incredibly difficult and lonely childhood in the Necropolis and didn't find himself until his 20s)

ANYWAY, during this incredibly stressful period, Quinton returned to his work as a Mortian to keep busy and feel productive. Fighting off the stress and the gossip until they were old news and they could get on with their lives. However, barely a year back home Quinton started to get sick. Dizziness, insomnia, loss of appetite etc and both Quinton and Emmrich considered taking some time away if the stress of the Mourn Watch was taking a toll like THIS. But Quinton insists he will not run away, will not be bested by some stupid chit chat amongst those with nothing better to do. And then he started vomiting, constantly he couldn't keep anything down and this went on for weeks.

Both neither Quinton nor Emmrich suspected pregnancy. Both being so sleep deprived, Quinton only focused on getting through the day and sleeping where he could and Emmrich was so fixated and occupied on making the pain stop, to find food or tea that Quinton could stomach he never stopped to think of any other reason WHY he was so ill. And with Quinton so anti doctors and medical attention, he made it difficult to be seen, or examined for very long. He was always prescribed rest, water, and plain food till it passed.

It took them nearly 4 months till it clicked. One morning, while getting changed Quinton noticed something different, he looked oddly bloated. A small bump and within about 5 seconds it all finally clicked. He collapsed on rhe floor and sobbed. Fear, relief and absolute exhaustion took hold of him. Emmrich had heard all the commotion and burst in to see his Fiance crumpled in a heap on the floor. And before Emmrich could even ask what happened, Quinton blurts out "I'm pregnant!". Lots of tears were shed that day. Fears and uncertainties were discussed but the overall, they were both so relieved to know that the sickness was something joyous rather than an unknown sinister illness.

I've rambled enough, but the gist is Quinton had an incredibly rough pregnancy overall, the sickness continued all the way to labour and beyond and there were a few scares if Quinton and the baby would even survive. This led to some extremely nasty blowouts between Emmrich and Quinton but that's a story for another day 👌🏻

Thank you for the ask anon 💖

[holocene-sims]

next // previous

october 3, 2021 2:00 p.m. morensong coffee house

[grant] thank you for meeting me so last minute.

[cerise] yeah, it’s no problem! actually, i'm glad we could do this sooner rather than later. this has been at the back of my mind for a while–the curiosity has–so when you texted me yesterday, i was, like, i need to know. i may be going out of town for a week, but i'll try to make room in the schedule for this before i leave.

[grant] are you traveling anywhere exciting?

[cerise] iceland. it’s a big family trip to celebrate my parents’ 20th anniversary. as in, my mom and my stepdad’s anniversary. i mean, he’s my real dad as far as i'm concerned, but technically my stepdad. i think you get what i mean, i don’t know why i'm over-explaining.

[grant] wow, that is exciting. well, i hope you guys have fun. i hear it’s just as gorgeous there as you think it is.

[cerise] anyway, thank you again for asking your–our, i guess; that’s still weird to say–dad some questions on my behalf. i'm sure that wasn’t easy.

[grant] i should warn you that it’s not necessarily a wealth of information.

[cerise] that’s okay.

[grant] there was a lot going on when i talked to him, and if there were other questions i could have asked…

[cerise] it’s okay.

[grant] i wouldn’t have been able to think of them, and now, uh, the line of communication is closed, so i can’t really go back and...

[cerise] i said it was okay, didn’t i?

[cerise] the basics are enough, and you already put yourself out for a stranger. if i want to know anything else, i'll find the right moment to get my my mom talk about what happened.

[grant] do you want me to just get right into it?

[cerise] whatever you prefer.

[grant] so, uh, essentially, my parents were attending a medical conference of some kind in detroit. they were still married then, but my dad was unhappy with the relationship. he met your mom at the conference, and then he had��as far as i'm aware–a one-night stand with her. she found out my dad already had a family, they agreed to not be in each other’s lives, and he paid her child support.

[grant] that’s what i know. i'm sure there’s more to it, but...

[grant] oh! right, “the more” is that there is a nonzero chance we have more siblings out there.

[cerise] huh.

[cerise] i'm almost surprised there isn’t more drama. that’s a pretty mundane story. a one-night stand with someone you know nothing about is the oldest story in the book.

[cerise] weird, i feel better now. my curiosity is sated. well, i am wondering how the affair even happened if your mom was right there and about the potential other children, but that’s a whole can of worms.

[grant] well, i'm glad you feel better.

[cerise] and the story does make sense. i always wondered if there was some big thing with the secrecy, but if it’s because your–our?–dad was a married man, i get it. my mom is a very good person with strong morals. i know her, and she would not want anything to do with someone if she were aware they were cheating and had a family, and she wouldn’t want me to have any business with them either.

[grant] she made the right decision to stay away. he’s unnecessary. your lives are a billion times better off without him. if you’re thinking, “how can he say that?” just trust me.

[cerise] i mean, i can’t be upset about it. i'm not sure what i potentially lost out on, but what i've had in life with my parents has been perfect or just about perfect, so i'm not going to question her choice.

[grant] you didn’t lose anything. not to say trust me again, but trust me.

[cerise] i'm sorry. this probably is far less of a flippant thing for you.

[grant] don’t worry about me. it’s all good.

[grant] i am just really glad you feel better, and i'm glad i could be of some use to you as well. it’s a lot easier to use me than your mom. i have never met her, but i'm guessing she’d prefer to just forget about all this stuff, and i hope she has.

[cerise] i was frustrated she wouldn’t tell me the truth, but i get it now. this may be a classic story, but it’s still, you know, an embarrassing one. if i found out my boyfriend were a married man tomorrow, i would melt into the floor and stay there.

[grant] anyway, i know we’ve been sitting here all of ten minutes, but i should let you go. once i finish drinking this coffee, i will get out of your hair. you have things to do–exciting things. go pack and travel and have fun and all that.

[cerise] hey, you don’t have to leave already!

[grant] no, i don’t want to take up your afternoon. at least no more than enough to tell you what you were waiting a few weeks to hear.

[cerise] i mean, i blocked out time to do that and talk to you generally for a bit.

[cerise] i don’t know how to go about all this, but i wasn’t planning on benefiting off your connection to your–our?–dad and then peacing out. i figured we could be acquainted, if nothing else.

[cerise] unless that’s too much for you, in which case, totally get it. no pressure. my existence must be weird for your mom and siblings. i'm assuming you have siblings.

[cerise] or maybe they don’t know. i also get it if you’re keeping this situation on the down-low. i can assure you that you’d not be alone in that. i'm not sure i could tell my parents right now that i know about my origins or that i've met my bio dad’s son. not yet.

[grant] definitely don’t do that before the big anniversary trip. but no, don’t worry about that either. i don’t have siblings. not anymore. and my mom...let’s not even go there. there’s nothing to worry about on those fronts.

[grant] it’s not that it’s too much, basically. i have zero problems with you, and i have no family left who would have a problem with you either, so.

[grant] i just don’t want to be in your way, not today or at any point in the future, and i will be. you don’t need my dad around; you don’t really need me either.

[cerise] i don’t care if you are, honestly. you are my brother. that feels weird to say, but you are, and you haven’t done anything wrong. i'd like to know my brother.

[cerise] this is maybe the only regretful, i don’t know if that’s the right word, part of all the secrecy and the way i came to be. i get along with my step-siblings. what’s wrong with getting along with the half-siblings? or half-sibling?

[grant] i should have also warned you i'm kind of in a dour mood entirely because of my dad. sorry. not because of you or this whole thing, though, to be clear.

[grant] i wanted to meet to get all this off my mind so i have no other reason to think about him, hopefully, for the rest of my life. i'll be in a more conversational mood soon-ish, once i'm done thinking about him.

[grant] this is going to make me wishy-washy. i don’t want to be in your way; i don’t want to be a source of awkwardness in your family if they ever know you know me, but…

[grant] okay. i wouldn’t mind getting along with my half-sibling. maybe we could meet up when you have time again.

[cerise] yeah, i'll text you. i might be busy for a while with work when i'm back from my trip, but…

[grant] text me anytime. we’ll figure it out.

[raccoonfallsharder]

hello, friends! i wanted to give you a quick update. i am certainly on the mend right now. i feel better than i have in probably a week or more, and though i am still not clear of pneumonia and all its complications in my life lol, i am hoping to be almost completely back to normal by the end of this week, if all goes well.

i also wanted to thank you all for your kindness and also your threats and affectionate insults. thank you, so much, for caring. the world can be a hard place to live, and we are encouraged in so many ways to live these small atomized lives. but no matter how tenuous or fleeting our internet-interactions are, they are still real, and i appreciate you reaching out to tell me to rest, and to send me your well-wishes. it truly does mean so much, not only as a moment of connection, but also as a reminder of how well people can care for each other, even those they barely know or never met. you all inspire and uplift me, and i am grateful for it.

for those of you more curious about the details (and the absolutely absurdity of my friday night this week), you can read on. i tend to fall into irreverent medical narrative monologuing (as i do with everything else lol) but i will try to keep it brief.

content warnings for doctors, medical stuff, pain and illness, emergencies, and hospitals.

here's the basic timeline of my week lol:

on tuesday, i got really sick. i tend to not have a lot of normal symptoms for things (i have only had a fever once in my life, and it was NOT the time i had appendicitis, a ruptured intestine, or kidney stones), and figuring out when i don't feel well takes a lot of conscious effort on my part. plus i gaslight myself hard. these are all things i'm working on and have gotten a lot better at - which is probably the only reason why i went to urgent care instead of convincing myself this was "just a flu" and trying to take care of myself at home. i had been having side pain as well, which i had attributed to a pulled muscle, but something in me was afraid i had maybe done something else and caused an injury that got infected or something. i don't know, it just felt connected.

urgent care diagnosed me with probable pneumonia (they couldn't find it with the stethoscope, but they were confident it was there) and started treating that. they believed the strained muscle was not related but told me to come back on friday with an x-ray if my other symptoms didn't improve.

on friday morning, we went to get an x-ray done at 7am and hit up urgentcare on the way back. the x-ray said i was clear on pneumonia, but my cough was worse and my nausea had returned (no fever anymore though, thank goodness). my muscle pain in my back was also so much worse, presumably because of all my coughing, so they gave me some meds for my lungs and for my muscle pain.

now we get to friday evening, probably 5pm. i have a coughing fit with an unsupported back - and i scream. i think i blacked out for a second. my partner came in running. i couldn't move. i've never been in so much pain in my life, and i have a stupid-high pain tolerance. (this is another part of my issue with figuring out when i don't feel well). at this point, the pain had suddenly migrated. it felt like it was grinding down through my flank and into my groin. the location felt very similar to a kidney stone but it was unlike anything i had ever experienced before. i was sweating, trying to walk to the car and then up through the hospital doors. the guard at the front was like "get this woman a wheelchair" lollol.

it was a pretty crowded night so when we were admitted, we were stuck in the hall, which was fine by me. the doctors and nurses were all lovely (my partner believes we were the favorites on the floor because we are very easy-going and also funny lol. i think he has a slightly-inflated view of us but whatever, one of us is wrong and i'm happy if it's me). anyway, the med staff all seemed to think - like me - that perhaps all my symptoms had actually been a kidney stone, and that it was the cough that was unrelated, rather than the muscle pain. so eventually i go back a CT. The scan comes back an hour or so later and, surprise, it is still pneumonia (of course it was able to pick up what an x-ray couldn't). What it also noticed is that the pneumonia had inflamed my entire diaphragm. i do not remember learning much about the diaphragm in school but i knew from logic that it had something to do with respiration because of my choir- and stage-inclined friends. but it does a lot of other things as well (like puppeteering the bladder) and impacts a lot of systems and also, apparently, causes a lot of fucking pain when inflamed.

so. they had already given me some pretty hefty anti-inflammatories. they tell me they'd actually like to replace the seven other drugs the urgent care doctors have me on with one different one. it should totally knock out the pneumonia, especially since i will be starting with a full course of the medication after already tackling the pneumonia with the other antibiotics since tuesday. this sounds great to me, and i say sure. they give me the new drug and discharge me, more quickly than i have ever seen a discharge take place, and i was on my way - already feeling better than i had in days thanks to the antiinflammatory they'd given me before.

here's where the night gets spicy

we get in the car, i'm feeling better than i have in days, it's all good. we hit the freeway and i'm like. huh. my face feels funny.

my partner's like.... what.

i'm like, i don't know? my face feels funny? not itchy or anything, but like.... weird?

he says, should we go back?

i'm like... ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ i genuinely cannot identify this sensation.

then something switches, and i'm like... oh yeah, okay. my mouth and face all feel like... not itchy, but fuzzy. staticky. and while i have not had this kind of reaction before (like everything else, my allergies show up weirdly), i have heard about it. so i say, yeah.... i think we should go back. my throat's a little tight, but there's no swelling on my face, no hives - because again, i am weirdly symptomatic. and because i'm aces at gaslighting myself, i say, maybe i'm overreacting?

which is when i realize that at some point, my partner has called 911. i answer some questions but it's definitely hard to keep my eyes open. and then the car is pulled over, and there are EMTs. and my partner tells them i've been passing out at thirty second intervals. i tell them i'm just being a drama queen and i'm probably overreacting. they apparently think that's some bullshit and i get my very first ambulance ride. i'm phasing in and out - pretty badly hypotensive with really low blood pressure, but still - no visible swelling. my throat is tight enough that my voice sounds like that of a ninety-year-old who's been smoking four packs a day her entire life, but there's nothing they can SEE, other than that i'm "cold and clammy" (rude, lol). still, they stick me with epinephrine and give me some O2 and take me right back to where i come from.

one of the nurses from earlier sees me being wheeled in (to a room, this time - no hallways for repeat customers, i guess) and she is like, "NO! miss dae! why are you back?!!" and i say, "because i missed you. and i wanted the room upgrade."

and then i start giggling hysterically.

and the registering nurse asks me if i consent to have my insurance billed and i say, "FUCK YEAH. fuck those guys" and giggle some more. i don't know if that was the epinephrine or just pure delirium at that point.

then i start crying because i feel so bad about coming back, again. all my self-gaslighting really coming out to the forefront. and they're like, NO, you did absolutely what you should have done, don't be silly.

they get me all settled and are shooting me up with a ton of antihistamines, and finally let me partner back, and my voice still sounds like rocks going through a meat grinder but you know what? you know what antihistimines do? THEY DECREASE INFLAMMATION. so my diaphragm is feeling better than it has in like, a week.

my doctor from earlier comes in, and he clearly felt so bad about everything. he tells me to return to my previous course of drugs, and puts this one in my file as another allergen. after about an hour of fluids and watching me, they release us. we get home at 3:30am and crawl into bed, safe as houses.

now, i can't really say "the end." the pneumonia's not gone yet, and i still have some ongoing pain from my diaphragm. additionally, a coughing fit that happened later that night does seem to have damaged an old surgery site (probably because of the diaphragm muscle, actually), so i need to get that checked out this week too. BUT. i am feeling so much better than i have all week. i am privileged to have decent insurance and while we do have to live pretty frugally, we make ends meet. we're lucky that we will be able to take care of these bills when they come.

and honestly? that shit is FUNNY. (i mean, for me. definitely not for my poor partner who probably lost twenty-seven years off his life; pray for him). i can't wait to really perfect the way i tell this story because it's HILARIOUS. like. what the fuck

anyway if you actually read all this, first of all, wow. second of all. i appreciate you. thank you for worrying about me, for wondering about me, and for caring in general. i'm so grateful, and i hope that you have everything you need, today and every day moving forward.

[fictionadventurer]

Actual January Reads

Rhododendron Pie by Margery Sharp: A solid light read with a likable and relatable main character and some good exploration of the intellectual/artistic realm vs. ordinary life. Good start to the year.

Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte: I liked this much more the second time. I found a lot to enjoy, and it's a classic for a reason, but I still think Jane and Rochester both get away with a lot that isn't questioned by the narrative because they're "soulmates".

"The Old Nurse's Story" by Elizabeth Gaskell: I don't read ghost stories, but I liked the style and the story here enough to keep reading. I love how Gaskell used the ghost story format to explore themes of regret and compassion that would fit into her realistic stories. However, the danger to the child was chilling, and it still haunts me, so I kind of regret reading.

Matched by Allie Condie: This reread didn't hit as hard as it did during the pandemic, but the "fighting for human creativity in a world where technology creates everything" is more relevant than ever in a world with AI.

Crossed by Allie Condie: My first time rereading, because I didn't like it the first time. I liked it better this time. I always like a travel story--the desert atmosphere was immersive. The side characters made more sense. But I'm still not convinced there was a point to this book--it'd be pretty much the same story if they found the rebellion right away.

Reached by Allie Condie: I'm really glad I didn't reread this one during the pandemic--somehow I'd completely forgotten that the whole story is a medical thriller about a pandemic. I was pretty impressed by the virology--it was detailed and mostly hung together. (Though anything would be better than the Lunar Chronicles' "people drank the vaccine to cure the disease). (And the Mormon symbolism in the cure amused me.) The only things I had remembered about the story were some details I thought were stupid--it turns out I'd misunderstood them and they made total sense. I liked the "find a third option" approach to rebellion. The unresolved government situation both made sense and disappointed me.

The Story of Doctor Doolittle by Hugh Lofting: A cute enough story, except for the blatant, over-the-top racism that provides major plot points for a huge section of the middle. I'm used to a certain level of racism in old books--this went well beyond that. And overall, I like the story less the longer I think about it. I'm never much one for animal narratives, though some of the animals here were cute. As for Doolittle--there's a difference between "unworldly and innocent" and "complete irresponsible idiot", and Doolittle has way too much of the latter in him. (I would be interested in the story from his sister's POV, though--imagine one day your brother gives just adopts a million pets and starts making weird animal noises and gives up his medical practice. How do you deal with that?)

So Big by Edna Ferber: The best book I read this month. I started out unsure of the story--it had a bit too much of the cynical trying-to-impress-the-literary-elite vibe that I associate with American literature of this era--but it became a really lovely exploration of what it really means to live a good life. Selina is a masterful character, and I loved getting her story, and the contrasting stories of the two boys she helped to raise. A few bits of content that went a bit beyond what I like, but overall a very good book.

The Home-maker by Dorothy Canfield Fisher: I loved the premise, kind of hated the first three sections where everyone hates their lives and the husband can't do anything right, and then adored the fourth section. Possibly the best exploration of gender roles and child-rearing that I've ever seen in fiction.

Out of the Dust by Karen Hesse: A nice little story full of fascinating historical detail, psychologically-rich characters, and a heartwrenching story. I'm not sure that the free-verse structure added anything to it, but it's nice to add another one to my list. Initially, this story left me going, "Yeah, it's good, but nothing special," but the more I think about it, the more impressive I find it.

Red Palace by June Hur: The worldbuilding here was more intricate and unfamiliar than like 95% of the fantasy novels I read. I loved it. (And it turned out I'd seen just enough k-drama gifs to envision some of the outfits). Unfortunately, the intense worldbuilding on top of a murder mystery plot was a bit too much--it got overwhelming to piece together the worldbuilding when the heroine's understanding of the truth was constantly shifting. I ended up half-skimming to survive. But I did like the story and the depth to the main character, so I'd like to read more by the author.

Deathmark by Kate Stradling: My most relaxing read of the month. Once again, I liked a Stradling book better on reread. I didn't mind that it was barely a Blue Castle retelling. The story was relaxing, the romance was cute, the hero's tragic past compelling, the turn into darkness just a bit too dark, and the hero's parents amazing. Unfortunately, it did my least favorite Stradling thing of ending with a huge, complicated infodump about backstory + the magic system. I can never explain just why I like these books so much, but finishing one of her stories always leaves me wanting to read another one.

Potential January Reads

A Brilliant Night of Ice and Stars by Rebecca Connolly

Rhododendron Pie by Margery Sharp

So Big by Edna Ferber

Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte

Vibrant Paradoxes by Bishop Robert Barron

The Diary of a Country Priest by George Bernanos

Doctor Thorne by Anthony Trollope

Katherine Wentworth by D.E. Stevenson

[pangur-and-grim]

Pangur is THRILLED that I have mono! her favourite thing in the world is napping with me

[boxwinebaddie]

uncle neen!!! welcome back omg i was so sad to see u disappear </3 hyh !!! i had a question i asked last time but i was wondering since ur rewriting ur fics, are u planning on posting them on tumblr? or on ao3? pls be kind to urself too<33

good MORNING, lovie!!!!~ <3 c':

( or whatever time it is, where you are at the moment! )

i'm very excited to announce that you are my very FIRST new ask message on my brand new blog!

( teri is my first follower; ly ter. <33 o//3//o )

***long overdue UN ramble-bramble under the cut. xx

i /do/ miss my six hundred bajillion ask memes and am mourning the loss of all my online creations and great joys as a deranged southpark fanfiction author and the legacy i built with my tiny, gay weird hands

( i will go into it another time, but i had a very, very frightening bipolar episode surrounding my blog and my role on here as a writer, friend and mentor to you all, deleted all my things in a horrible panic, was able to recover them...but in the -- what i hope is the *very last* -- after shock of my episode...i got very scared, very sad and deleted both my dearly treasured and beloved, beautifully cult followed by many of you and other ghosts of sp style fanatics past ao3 account**

**( with peppermint on it at 13k likes which...oh my god, please be gentle with me, that was a very, very hard blow and rough realization for me and i am sorry to everyone who loved that fanfiction and wanted to go back and read it for posperity and personal comfort...i miss her too; rest in peace, pep, my first born. my sweet girl. </3 )

...and most tragically of all, i deleted my tumblr blog, with over one hundred pages of carefully curated content surrounding my sp aus, your lovely, insightful and thoughtful questions and inquiries, also typed with your tiny, weird gay hands answered, in turn, with mine, torched the ev. of those memories in the final blast and lost my window into your world through that medium...

...which is literally heartbreaking to me, because more than even my silly fanfictions or my blog, what i loved to do, was talk to all of you and read your wonderful messages each day and remind myself of why i should be here and continue to do what i do. </333 :'''c

BUT! my darlings, as ravenstan would say, 'it's always darkest before crimson dawn', for the very first time in several weeks ( which, i fear, and i was, full of fear and horrible self loathing/dread every waking and nightmarish moment ), last night, i cried for a very, very, very, long time, held myself together in the broken places -- told myself and the girl i was that i loved her and i was going to take care of us and be brave -- and broke the fever ( a little off key like jersey kyle, but very lovely nonetheless; love you tone deaf king. x my sboyf. )

today, i woke up this morning and slept...PEACEFULLY and woke up PERFECTLY HAPPY AND RESTED...

AND SMILED. QUITE. WIDE!!!!~ :D

and that is a baby step, but it is a step in the right direction and also almost wanted to make me weep like a baby again because i literally have not felt happy or like i do not hate myself for like, i shit you not, over like 15-20 days...it was frightening and fucking horrible! SLAY!

nevertheless ( or the most, finally ) i am excited to welcome in a new era/year of change on my blog and within myself; which is an era of peppermint flavored 'hope i'm healing' in a delicious rem(ember) font.

unfortunately, because i nuked my ao3 account, i do not currently one atm, but am in the process of recovering it.

( i'm not condoning any kind of rude/uncivilized behavior bc people are allowed to do anything they want -- but i'd really like to get my user back and would appreciate it a lot if no one used it to create another ao3 account just because it would be confusing for my readers and disheartening to me to not be boxwinebaddie anymore. )

until then, i will be writing/drafting rem(ember) in my messy google docs, am storyboarding everything to the best of my ability ( which is not perfect, but nothing is -- except stan and kyle to each other -- but god loves a trier, which is why he hates me: i prefer hell where it's drier -- that way my girlfail guylinea will not run. xx )

KALE SEITAN! ;)

posting little snippets of it on here for all of you, probably put it here on my tumblr and post it up to ao3 if i can regain my account/one in general ( i am a little worried that because of how long it's been, the loss of all my followers and, what i assume, is a decreased public or tiktok generated interest in sp, it will do poorly; rip </3 )

-- but the point is...that i want to start doing stuff for myself now. and not because i think i should or create unnecessary stress/sadness surrounding my strength or weakness as a writer or person ( or like, beat the living shit out of myself every single day anymore )...

...so i am writing it slowly, carefully, synthesizing all the info i gathered from over a year of answering your questions ( which helped me develop my sp au styles and their worlds into the lovely, seemingly breathing paper machslayed things they are now ), am going to write the fanfiction i always/wanted/ to write ( i’ve always wanted to rewrite RM, but was so busy and overwhelmed with my blog/my irl stuff that i couldn't )

and i'm calling it...

<3

p.s. ( i love you ): i am going to give my grandmother a copy of the first chapter of peppermint for christmas because i wanted to do something special/sentimental for her and secretly push the gay middle school style agenda ( she is actually very woke and thought my uncle might be gay for a while when he was younger, haha xx ), but i want to give them different names, so that on the off chance it gets passed off to my mom, my dad or manages to travel by world of mouth ( my grandma has a tendency to gab, but i love her a lot ) that it can't specifically be traced back to my dead ao3 or my blog.

so if any one has any ideas for silly interesting names i could give my sons, names for other characters or south park in gen. hit me up! <33

thank you for your interest in my work -- and in me, in general. i love you all dearly, i hope you heal ( i know you will ) and smile, pendejos because got a lot coming up on that crimson dawn and a lot of crazy shit coming down on that *jersey i won't say i'm in luh megara vc*

~SCHARLET sLUt~

cheers! mazel! ;) xx

-uncle nina, in her healing era <3

[villa-kulla]

2024 in review:

January: Strong start, fun at work, creative plans, many outings with new people, successful birthday cocktail bash thrown, plans to keep the momentum going -

January 23rd: cat dies

February: depression/crippling loneliness

March: depression/crippling loneliness

April: depression/crippling loneliness

May: depression/crippling loneliness

June: depression/crippling loneliness

July: depression/crippling loneliness/therapy

August: start dating this guy with whom i have a history because that's just what people do isn't it? he loves me and is ready to settle down, so maybe this is it, maybe i should just settle and join this club of monogamy and kids that i've watched every single one of my close friends join over the past 3 years, leaving my the 7th wheel at every single social function because it's ridiculous that I'm in my early 30s and my most significant relationship was with a cat, maybe it's time to finally grow up and settle for someone, you had a very slutty bisexual 20s back when it was cute, but as long as you're still somewhat attracted to guys, might as well let the pendulum settle that way because it'll be societally easier for you in the long run, and all the while you can ignore the voice in the back of your head that this is wrongwrongwrong and you don't want this, also it's too embarrassing to have a sexuality crisis in your 30s when you've been out since your teens but whatever, and you should settle down anyways because maybe it'll give your life purpose i mean look at your past year, maybe you wouldn't have taken the death of your cat so hard, at least you'd have a built-in social circle, and everyone does say that they never felt truly alive until they have kids/partner, and while your parents never pressure you they've certainly hinted that it's weird you haven't settled down yet and you'd be happier with a family of your own, therefore obviously my life must have no other value, maybe they're right, so let's settle down with a guy whom i quite honestly find irritating now and who doesn't spark joy but it's been hard to tell because everything is irritating to me lately and nothing sparks joy, and i try so hard and stay reasonably social and have hobbies that get me out of the house and am financially stable with a challenging full-time job that's sometimes rewarding and eat well and exercise a lot and these are all Healthy™ things to do so why do i feel like dying every time i wake up and have to face getting through the day, and isn't it pitiful that the one who was always Little Miss Talented and Smart and Pretty growing up has amounted to a sad, lonely, unfulfilled girl who hasn't lived up to any of her creative potential, and people will always see her as a cat lady except even more pathetic because her cat is dead, and maybe my best years are really behind me, and i'll just be stuck forever tagging along after friends who've moved on with their lives, so better commit to this guy you find tiresome right because husband + kids = happiness, maybe those nuclear family people are onto something, maybe husbands and kids are for when the rest of your friends get husbands and kids and you start to lose them because the friendship is different no matter what anyone says, and you've always been good at forcing yourself to do what's good for you, and deep down you know this is nonsense and won't solve anything, but it can't possibly make things worse than you've felt all year, and also this Guy feels like his life is starting over with you, but you feel like your life is ending with him, and the only reason you'd stay with him is so people don't pity you, and more than anything you can't bear for people to pity you and you suspect they all secretly are pitying you simply because you're single and there must therefore be something fundamentally wrong with you, and you used to be able to dismiss thoughts like that as stupid, but then again you used to be a lot more happy, and it gets harder and harder to ignore the thought that something is wrong with you, and the only thing worse than other people's pity is self-pity and every time you stop and think about your unhappiness you cry because you don't see how you'll ever feel happy again and you know you don't deserve to feel this way, but you can't actually remember the last time you were happy, it was certainly before your cat died, and I miss him so much and could this guy just stop fucking texting me for one second, oh god it's me, hi, i'm the problem it's me -

September: depression (but busy!)

October: Meds! / break up with guy + floods of relief!

November: Don't even remember

December: Actually kind of okay!

Anyway, Happy almost New Year!

[some-stars]

i have absolutely NO patience for anyone being shitty or judgmental or othering about addicts, not just because of my ethical principles and baseline compassion for other human beings, but because i have personal experience with how inseparable substance abuse is from mental illness and other kinds of inescapable suffering. i got high on cannabis and benzos all day long, 6 days a week for two years because i had severe treatment-resistant depression (aka i had tried EVERY legal treatment available without improvement). when i found a medication that made it go away almost entirely, i dropped down to maybe 3 times a month purely for fun and after my day's responsibilities are done, within days of starting to feel better. and now i feel like shit again and i've been getting high several times a week as literal self-medication. because, you know, i'm in horrible pain and it would be cruel and inhuman for someone to tell me i had to ignore the one tool i had access to that would reduce my suffering, just so i wouldn't be an ~addict~, which is of course the worse most disgusting worthless thing a person can be.

i know that there are many addictions that are more physically damaging and that people continue to crave physiologically even when they start recovering from the mental or physical pain that drove them to drugs in the first place. i am very, very fortunate that due to my life circumstances i have no access to meth or heroin or more dangerous stuff like that. but it is sure as hell a lot less difficult to resist even those cravings when the pain that they were used to alleviate is drastically reduced!!!

anyway this is all just me restating the rat town study that proved almost all drug addiction is caused by capitalism and/or trauma, and weakening capitalism and building rewarding caring societies eliminates substance abuse almost entirely. why the fuck would you scream at and shame people experiencing unspeakably terrible pain rather than the forces and people who caused/failed to treat that pain?

[astriiformes]

Sometimes you just have to have a little cry in the middle of a bunch of 500 year-old books, and that's okay. I am telling myself it's okay.

[dreamyintersexouppy]

sending love to all head mates with complex relationships to the body, language isn’t build to adequately describe our senses of identity and that’s fucking rough sometimes! However y’all choose or opt out of labels, I respect your choices!

thank you! but i think that's the thing about it, tma/tme (from how i understand it novas a good explainer but idk if im a good rememberer) isn't opt in or out, it just describes something that exists already, and while my identity as a boy is real queer how i get treated while fronting is still more affected by how people see the body. it feels like a tma if you don't know me/don't know im fronting and tme if you do but even that seems strange (nova says: that sounds like just tme to me cuz of the opportunity to opt out but it could be more complicated). i think the language is good but i also think it matters more to me to be an ally to nova and all my transfem friends than to think forever about where i sit in a framework that wasn't made to benefit me. in the end that stuff is for trans women and as funny as the joke of boy headmate in tma body is i think my position as boy headmate makes me not the authority on actual meaningful discussion

[seraphim-soulmate]

when my roommates put things back in the kitchen incorrectly it makes me frustrated and angry. apparently, did you know, this is not a thing all or most humans experience ? some people don't have an intense emotional reaction to things not being stacked in the optimal way, or pans not being put back in their "usual" spot. did you know this. did you.

[monstermoviedean]

at the end of my fucking rope with "conversations" about k12 chronic absenteeism.

[neathbound-fiends]

sorry for quiet lol. dealing with a lot