#do not remember going to the doc to get diagnosed

[whathehonestfuk]

Me knowing concussions are very bad but thinking people exaggerate them for fanfiction

My mom : you've had multiple diagnosed concussions in your life

Me who has zero memory of any of this: 😧

[kiitoskiitos]

Just wanted to say as a trans man looking to have a kid soon, I really appreciate your art depicting a pregnant trans person. It really does feel like people both in and out of the trans community treat trans men that want to be fathers like they're an abomination. It's hard knowing I'll have to go into hiding so I don't get murdered while cis women get to flaunt it for attention and praise, so seeing art that acknowledges that struggle... it really means a lot. Thank you.

thank you for this ask<33

i personally just sent a message to my healthcare provider to apply to get my eggs freezed. It was denied of me years ago when i got my trans diagnosis and hrt, due to my country still requiring sterilisation from all diagnosed trans people.

it's hard to feel joy over this positive legislative change, when the overall trans visibility has unleashed so much extra vitriol toward us. but slowly, the view of us as unnormal is slightly changing. but now just remember to pull in, there's a huge community of safe, likeminded trans and cis people who'll turn into the family of your children.

and remember to be cocky and realise how fucking cool it is to be a pregnant man. creating life is an universal experience. thomas beatie was the first trans man i ever heard about back when his pregnancy was rolled through the tabloid cycle. and now they just published a doc about a man in finland birthing twins. We have always been here and we're becoming more and more.

((forever obsessed with these paparazzi pics of beatie doing yard work late into his pregnancy. early 2000s paris hilton level iconic.))

[ashcal99]

Collarbones : Jasper Whitlock Hale I

Chapter One

"I can see your collarbones and baby I'm scared, Never thought I'd be so unprepared"

Summary: Camila Johnson was only 16 when she was diagnosed with leukemia. By the time she had turned 17, the doctors had tried everything to save her. Her family is close to giving up hope when they hear of a doctor who may be able to help her. The only problem is, he lives on the opposite side of the country. The small family soon decides to move to the small town in Washington, in efforts to prolong her life. In doing so, her life changes forever.

Warnings: Eventual smut (18+ only), mentions of death, depression, descriptions of disease and weight loss, general angst, slow burn

Words: 5.1k

A/N: Please lmk if you'd like to be added to the tag list, thx x

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Series Masterlist

——————

January 23rd, 2005

The cab of the minivan jostled as it drove over the speed bump, entering the small parking lot of Forks High School. Camila, of course, didn’t have her own car, and even if she did, she doubted that her mother would allow her drive herself to school. Simple things like this, that she had not so long ago enjoyed so much, were no longer possible for her frail body. So there she sat, being driven to school by her mother. As if being a new student in the middle of the year didn’t already attract enough attention as it was. Either way, she knew it wasn’t worth the argument to try and convince her mother to let her ride the bus to school.

The car slowed to a stop as it arrived at the front of the building. Camila turned to her mother, giving her a peck on the cheek as a goodbye. “Be careful today, Sweetie. Remember, we’re just a call away if you need us. Okay?” She said, eyebrows furrowed in worry. 

Camila gave her mother a reassuring smile. “Promise.” She said, slipping out of the van and shutting the door swiftly, before her mother changed her mind and made her stay home. She pulled the hood of her jacked over her head, trying to avoid the rain that was beginning to sprinkle down from the sky as she wrapped it tightly around her torso. She stared at her worn out doc martins as they thudded softly on the tiled floors of the small high school, trying to avoid the constant eye contact from students around her. Going from such a large high school in such a large city to this was going to be a big adjustment, but she was happy to at least have the opportunity to socialize. 

Her eyes searched the halls as she attempted to find the front office, needing to pick up her schedule. Finally she found her destination. As her sore muscles struggled to open the heavy door, a large pale hand came into view, as the weight of the door dissipated. She looked up to find a broad face with an angular jawline. His eyes shone bright amber, his whole face unnaturally perfect as he towered over her. “Thanks.” She muttered softly, walking over the woman at the front desk. 

She looked up from her paperwork, giving a polite smile. “Camila Johnson?” She asked expectantly. Camila nodded, figuring that they must not get new students very often if she already knew her name just by looking at her face. It made her a bit nervous as well, knowing that she would definitely stick out like a sore thumb. The woman sorted through the papers on her desk, trying to find the right ones, as Camila picked at the edge of her worn out baggy t-shirt. Finally, she handed her a crisp paper, covered in what classes she would have, what times she would have them, and where they would be. 

She thanked the woman, turning to leave. She glanced back as she pushed against the door with her back, trying to use her body weight to her advantage. The boy who had opened the door for her, was now talking to the woman, a bright pink blush covering her cheeks. “Emmett! Here to pick up more late work for Edward?.” She asked, giggling slightly as she flushed even brighter. Camila scoffed internally, slightly disgusted by the display. 

The door to the office closed with a soft thud behind her as she began walking down the hallway once more. She glanced at the classroom numbers on the walls, attempting to make sense of the system used so she could find her first period. Finally, she found the correct room, sauntering through the open doorway, earning the stares of the students that were already seated waiting for the bell to ring.

——————

The first half of the day had flown by, anybody and everybody trying to have a conversation with her. A guy, Eric, who she had met in her English class earlier that day, was walking her to the cafeteria, promising to save her a seat with his friends. He was nice enough, although maybe a bit too flirtatious. He definitely wasn’t her type, usually leaning towards quieter guys as her preference, but he was nice enough. Although, dating was definitely not what she needed, and she had no intention of trying to find a boyfriend.

She had dated before, had even had a boyfriend when she had been diagnosed, but like most people, once the shock of the news had worn off, he had left her. Nobody really wanted to be with someone who didn’t even have the strength to do normal everyday tasks. As soon as she told him that she couldn’t have sex like they had before, he was gone. 

It was shitty, sure, but she couldn’t exactly blame him. He was a teenage boy and they all wanted the same thing in the end right? Whatever he wanted, sex, marriage, a family, a future in general, she knew she couldn’t give him. So what was the use in being angry? All it would do was tire her out by the end.

Eric rushed forward, pushing the cafeteria door open for Camila to walk through, giving her his best polite grin. She muttered a thanks as she stepped into the crowded large room. He led her to the line for food, yammering on and on about the school paper and some article that they would be running soon. She tried to pay attention to the words leaving his mouth, but he was talking so quick and she was beginning to get a headache.

She tried her best to look like she was interested as they made their way through the line and paid for their food. Finally, they made it to the table and she could sit. She was beginning to feel lightheaded and didn’t know how much more she could take, so she was grateful for the hard plastic seat that she was now perched on. 

Eric went around the table, introducing the new faces. Angela, she had seen in her history class, she noted, and Jessica, in her biology. Bella, another new girl, seemed distracted, staring at the opposite end of the cafeteria. Trying to follow her view, Camila’s eyes landed on a group of teens, one boy, two girls, all three shockingly attractive.

“Who are they?” She asked curiously. 

Angela turned her head to their direction. “The Cullens.” She said simply.

Jessica leaned forward, wanting in the gossip, clearly. “Doctor and Mrs. Cullen’s foster kids. They all moved down here from Alaska two years ago.” She said. Camila instantly recognized the name. 

This was the Doctor that she would be seeing later that week. The very reason that she was there sitting in that cafeteria on the opposite side of the country then she had been a week previously. Doctor Carlisle Cullen. She wasn’t aware that the man had children, much less children that she would be attending school with, and she hoped that this fact wouldn’t make it that much more difficult to keep her sickness a secret.

“They kinda keep to themselves.” Angela explained.

“They’re all adopted. The blonde girl, Rosalie, and the big dark-haired guy, Emmett, they’re a thing. I’m not even sure that’s legal.” She said dramatically. 

“Jess, they’re not actually related.” Angela interjected, earning a scoff from Jessica and a snicker from Camila. The blonde in question was absolutely stunning, prettier than anyone Camila had ever seen before, and Emmett, the boy from the office earlier that morning, was definitely big. He towered over everyone else sitting with him, looking ridiculously out of place at the small round table.

Jessica continued. “But they live together.” She argued. “The little dark haired girl, Alice, she’s really weird.” Camila frowned hearing her description. The girl, Alice, was stunningly beautiful as well, although not as stunning as Rosalie. 

Camila never cared for the judgment of others, especially when Jessica herself clearly didn’t actually know the group of teens well enough to make those assumptions in the first place.

“Edward must be sick or taking some trip right now. He’s been absent for a week or so. He’s totally gorgeous, like the rest of them obviously. But apparently, no one here is good enough for him. Like I care.” She scoffed, making it blatantly obvious that she did in fact care, a lot. Bella shrunk in her seat at the mention of the teen. Maybe she had a thing for him or something. Camila couldn’t exactly blame her if he looked anything like his adopted siblings.

Suddenly, another figure joined the table, a mop of curly honey blonde hair covering his face as he sat his tray full of food down. “Who’s that?” Camila asked, drawn by curiosity. 

Jessica scoffed again. That was starting to get really annoying. “Jasper Hale. Rosalie is his sister. Like real sister. He like always looks like he’s in pain. He’s single as far as publicly, put a total weirdo too. Anyway, don’t waste your time.” She said, rolling her eyes.

As if he had heard his name being called, Jasper’s eyes shot over to their direction, amber eyes looking directly into Camila’s emerald eyes. Her heart had nearly stopped all together. She felt like a little kid that got caught with her hand in the cookie jar and she quickly averted her gaze to the food in front of her. From what she had briefly seen, he was absolutely breathtaking, like the rest of them. However, there was something different about him. Something that she recognized as sadness and pain in his eyes, and it intrigued her. She cleared her throat awkwardly as she attempted to wipe the image of his eyes from her head. “I wasn’t planning on it.” She said, poking her mashed potatoes with her plastic fork.

——————

The rest of the day had flown by just as quickly as the first half, and before she realized, she was walking into her last class of the day, calculous. She had always been fairly decent when it came to math, that being the reason why she was in an advanced class. So she hoped, despite her fatigue, that the class would go by simply.

A balding man, standing next to the classes chalkboard looked toward her, smiling welcomely. “Welcome Ms. Johnson. Follow along as best you can until you get caught up.” He paused looking around to find a clear seat for her. “Ahh, Mr. Hale.” He called.

Jasper looked up from his place at his table in the back of the class. Camila’s breath hitched in her throat. Really? Of all people, him? She didn’t have anything against him, sure, but she also clearly would have issues acting normal around him. 

She really needed to pull herself together. He was just an unnaturally handsome guy, who she may or may not have been extremely attracted to. “Jasper will help you with notes, I’m sure. He’s the top of the class, so feel free to go to him for any help you need.” He offered up. She rose an eyebrow, wondering if Jasper felt as willing to help as the teacher was making it seem. 

She sauntered over to the empty seat next to the pale teen, dropping her bag at her feet as she scooted the chair towards the desk. The teacher, Mr. Grey, gave instructions on which pages of the textbook to work on before releasing the class to work with their partners. 

Jasper paused, sucking in a steady breath, trying to test the waters of her scent. He steeled himself, trying to keep the confusion from showing on his face. There was something different about her blood, and this took the edge off of his normal thirst. He couldn’t quite figure it out, but was thankful for the fact that his throat would burn much less than usual while next to her. 

He looked over to her finally, smiling awkwardly as his golden waves hung in front of his face. He had seen her earlier in the cafeteria during lunch, but now he had a better view. Her hair was pulled away from her face now, and he could fully assess her beauty. It wasn’t often that he was pleasantly surprised by someones appearance, much less a human’s, but she was absolutely breathtaking. Along with the beauty however, was something else. She looked… tired. She had light purple bags under her eyes that made it look like she hadn’t slept in days.

“Hi, I’m Jasper.” He greeted, finally speaking up, a slight southern twang to his voice. 

She looked up to his face, smiling back politely. “I’m Camila.” She said gently.

He laughed lightly. “Oh I know.” He said, gaining a raised eyebrow in return. “Not very often we get new students here, let alone two in the same month. Word travels fast.” He joked.

Camila snickered in response. “I guess that’s fair.” She said, looking down at her work as she calculated the first equation. “You don’t need to help me if you don’t want to. We were further along at my last school.” She said, leaving out the fact that her ‘last school’ was really just her mother teaching her in their living room back at their old home in Orlando. 

He hummed lightly, nodding as he began to work on his own worksheet. “So what brought you to Forks?” He asked curiously, trying his best to create casual conversation. It had been so long since he had even attempted having a conversation with a human that wasn’t prompted by something that he needed in return, but there was something about her that drew him in. That made him want to know her. To understand her.

Quickly trying to come up with a reason, she spoke. “I guess my parents just wanted a change of scenery.” She stated simply. It was a stupid reason, not very concrete at all, but it was all that she could come up with at that time. 

“Well, you can’t get much different from Florida than here, huh?” He joked, laughing softly. His laugh sounded like bells ringing in her ears, a surprisingly beautiful sound. She shook her head, trying to clear the thoughts from her mind. 

“Guess not.” She smiled back, letting silence overtake them as they continued scrolling down answers on their loose leaf paper. As she worked through textbook, going from number to number on the page, fatigue began to attack her body, the ache of her bones and muscles from the day beginning to catch up to her. It had been such a long time since she had been forced to be alert for such an extended period of time, that being one of the reasons that it had taken so much convincing for her parents to allow her to attend the public school. Her eyebrows pinched together in pain, trying to concentrate on the task at hand. It was her last class of the day, and soon she would be free. It would be over soon, and she would go home. Easy enough, right?

Jasper looked towards her, feeling the shift in her mood. He was confused, not quite sure of the feelings that she was projecting. Earlier he had been able to decipher her emotions. Nervousness, apprehension, humored, but now he couldn’t completely tell. He was about to ask her if she was feeling okay when the bell rang, signaling the end of the day and dismissing the students. Camila let out a small sigh of relief, grabbing her bag from the ground and stuffing her work inside before pulling herself up from the chair with some difficulty, wincing slightly. The movement wasn’t lost on Jasper, but only confused him more. 

“See you tomorrow.” She said softly, giving a small wave before walking out of the classroom. Jasper was frozen in place as students moved around him. He was still trying to place the strong emotions that had been radiating from her. Sadness? Maybe. Pain? Yes. Determination? Definitely. Some mixture of the three that only made confused and left him wondering.

Camila let out a sigh of relief as she saw her mother’s car finally enter the parking lot. She hadn’t been waiting long, but she was so ready to go home and rest that she was becoming wildly impatient. Pulling the door open, she plopped herself down onto the worn seat and closed it behind herself. “How was your first day, sweetie?” Her mother asked cheerily.

Giving the best smile she could muster with how fatigued her mind had become, she gave a small thumbs up. “Just ready to nap.” She said.

Her mother gave sympathetic smile. “I’m sure you’re just exhausted. Lay back. I’ll wake you when we get home.” She reassured. 

——————

January 24th, 2005

Camila’s second day of school was somehow even rainier than the first, and by the time she had made it to the front door of the school, her jacket had become completely soaked. She reluctantly pulled the wet fabric from her body, knowing that it would no longer help keep her warm. Spinning the dial of her locker, she entered the combination and swung the door open. Tossing the wet fabric into the locker, she grabbed her textbooks and closed it back up. 

She looked down to her bare arms, seeing the slight bruises left along the skin. Another side effect of her sickness. She hoped no one would pay to close attention to the discoloration, not wanting to have to make excuses for the marks. Making a mental note to bring an extra jacket to keep in her locker for future instances, she made her way to her first class of the day.

——————

By the time her calculus class had arrived, she had hoped her jacket would be dry. However, when she pulled it from the metal confines of her locker, she was disappointed to find it was still damp. She knew that she wouldn’t be able to wear it, already being cold as it was. If she became anymore cold she was sure that she would be shivering and it would add to the likelihood of getting a cold. 

Jasper sat in his usual seat, waiting for Camila to enter through the door at the front of the classroom. He had found himself looking forward to seeing her all day. Ever since he had met her the day before, he couldn’t get her out of his mind. It had been the first time since turning that he had really missed sleep, knowing that it would’ve made the time pass by quicker. 

Finally, he saw her thin frame enter the classroom, followed by a tall darker skinned teen. Tyler Crowley. He had seen the boy sitting next to her early that day in the cafeteria, and thought nothing of it. Now seeing Camila laugh at something the teen had said as he carried her textbooks for her, he wasn’t so sure. 

Jealously sparked in his chest, and at first he thought that it had come from somebody else around him, but slowly he realized it was coming from himself. He scolded himself, knowing there was no logical reason he should be jealous since she was human and he all he could do was hurt her in the end.

He averted his gaze, trying his best to act nonchalant and as if he hadn’t been waiting all day to see her. She slowly made her way to their shared desk, draping her jacket across the back of her chair before taking a seat. She let out an exasperated sigh, sinking into the cool plastic as she relaxed her shoulders.

The second day had been much more difficult to get through than the first. Luckily, nobody had mentioned the light bruises littering her arms, and she was relieved that she had successfully evaded the topic. However, if she thought yesterday was exhausting, she was about to drop dead then. Camila had begun to wonder why exactly she had put up such a fight to get to go to school like normal kids, but in the end, she knew it would be worth it. She would make friends and try her best to fit in as long as her body would allow. 

After deciding that he had waited the appropriate amount of time, his eyes flickered over to her, as he soaked in her appearance. He could feel the exhaustion radiating off of her and wished that he could’ve done something to help, but knew he couldn’t without seeming wildly out of place. He could sense that if he were to shift her mood in that moment that it would be very far from natural.

His eyes landed on her arms. Thin with her bones sticking out prominently. Light purple splotches littering her skin. Worst case scenarios entered his mind as the concern for her safety grew. He tried to shake the feeling from his head, knowing that he shouldn’t jump to any conclusions. Maybe she was just insanely clumsy? He sat there, attempting to convince himself of that as she turned to him, giving him a small bashful smile. “Hi.” She said softly. 

He forced a smile onto his face. “Hi, darlin’.” He said, southern accent seeping through, causing a blush to creep up her neck. She looked down at her hands, nervously spinning the rings that sat loosely on her thin fingers, while she tried to tame her heart inside of her chest. His grin only grew as he heard her accelerating heart rate. 

He wasn’t sure what exactly had gotten into him. Typically he tried to stay far away from any human that he came into contact with, but he couldn’t really help himself. There was no harm in a friendship with her, right? Edward was doing the same thing with Bella, so it’s not like he could give him shit about it.

He knew that feelings for him were amplified, that being the natural occurrence for his kind, and he couldn’t help but feel attached to her already in a strange way. Surely he could blame it on being intrigued by her, but in truth, he wasn’t quite sure if that was the whole story. He was confused by her scent and her emotions, but deep down, he knew that wasn’t the only thing drawing him to her. But he also knew that he needed to slow down because he had barely just met the girl.

Sure, he was usually much more apprehensive with being around humans too much, due to the fact that he was still relatively new to the whole ‘vegetarian’ life style and had the most trouble out of his siblings when it came to controlling his hunger, but in reality, he felt more confident in his self control around her than any other human ever. Of course her blood still appealed to him, but not as intensely as he was used to feeling, and that was incredibly refreshing. To not feel like he would lose control at any moment for once.

Camila cleared her throat, trying to force the blush from her cheeks. “How are you liking the rain?” Jasper asked casually, gesturing towards the damp jacket.

She let out a small laugh. “It’s great, very refreshing.” She joked, earning a chuckle from the immortal teen. 

Jasper looked to her, unable to wipe his face clear of the wide grin. It was odd, the feeling in his stomach, and he couldn’t exactly place what it was. For fuck sake, they had barely spoken to each other and he already felt as if he would melt into a puddle on the floor. 

The tardy bell rang shrilly throughout the room, causing Camila to flinch back in irritation, the noise not helping her already persistent headache. Mr. Grey stood at the front of the class, clapping his hand together to gain their attention. “Okay, class. We will be continuing the pages we worked on yesterday, so I want you to work with your desk partners on that. Whatever you do not finish, you with need to do for homework tonight. Got it? Good.” He said, turning back to sit at his desk. 

Jasper peered over to her once more. “I’ll do the first half, you the second and we can swap answers?” He suggested, figuring it would help ease her exhaustion somewhat.

Camila raised an eyebrow. “You trust me to get them all right?” She asked teasingly.

He snickered, nodding lightly. “You’re smart. You’ve got this.” he said simply. So they turned to do their work separately, carrying on with mundane conversation. Camila worked through the problems one by one, a dull ache growing behind her brow as her concentration began weaning.

Then, suddenly, Jasper could feel the same feeling from the previous day immolating from her. He peered over to her to see her leaned over the worksheet, head in hands, rubbing her temples. “Are you okay?” He asked, concern etched in his voice. 

Her eyes flickered over to him, clearing her throat. “Just a headache.” She muttered. 

“I can finish the work, if you want.” He offered, wanting to try and help in anyway that he could. 

She gave him a small smile. “Thanks, but I got it.” She reassured. Sure, she was fatigued and  both physically and mentally exhausted from the day, but she was determined to make it through without any help from others. She was determined to prove to both herself and her parents that going back to public school was not the wrong decision and that she could handle it. She only had a half an hour left, she could do this.

——————

January 25th, 2005

Wednesday had arrived, and Camila already knew she would be missing the last half of her classes, having had an appointment scheduled at the hospital with Dr. Cullen. She had made sure to tell her group of friends in preparation that she had a dentist appointment, trying to come up with a believable excuse for missing half a day. She knew she would miss her time with Jasper for the day, having only the last class of the day with him, and it surprised her to realize that she was sad about this. They didn’t know each other very well, but she had constantly found her mind wandering back to him at random times.

So, much to her dismay, there she sat, with her parents, in Dr. Cullen’s office, going over possible treatments in hopes to prolong her life. He, like his children, was extremely attractive. Camila wondered how they all had that remarkable beauty alike when they were not even blood related in the first place. He was currently on the topic of chemo, something that she was well aware was painful and very expensive as well as had a very low chance of actually helping. Suddenly, their conversation was interrupted as his office door swung open harshly. 

There stood, a tall brunette teen, face just as perfect as the doctor sitting in front of her. To her horror, she realized that it must be Edward Cullen. She had heard murmurs of his return around the school that day, but had yet to come in contact with him since she had left just before lunch. 

He had a panicked expression gracing his face as he hurried over to his father. She hoped that miraculously somehow he wouldn’t notice her sitting there, or else her secret would definitely not stay hidden long. It wouldn’t take a genius to unravel the truth, once he saw her here and then at school the next day, and that would be the end. If everyone knew she was the little girl who had gotten cancer then all the sympathy would start flooding in. It would be pointless then, hoping for normalcy. 

As these thoughts raced through her mind, his eyes flickered over to her, eyes taking in her features quickly. He had seen her face before, he realized that those same emerald irises that had been burned into Jasper’s mind when he had finally returned from his trip to Alaska.

He turned, shaking the realization from his mind as he leaned down to whisper into his father’s ear, lips moving too quickly to read and speaking too low to understand for any of the humans in the room. Dr. Cullen stood abruptly. “I’m so sorry, I’m needed in the emergency department quickly. I’ll be back in just a few minutes.” He apologized sweetly. 

He walked swiftly, Edward following, to his office door, swinging it open on its hinges. Camila stood, sighing softly as she turned to address her parents. “I’m going to go find the restroom.” She said, not wanting to stay there with anxiety eating her alive. Worrying about what Edward would figure out, and who he would tell. 

Her mother stood quickly. “Do you want me to go with you?” She asked. Camila shook her head, offering a light smile as she followed the path to the office door. Once outside of the room, she looked up from her shoes only to find the whole group of Cullens huddled across the hall, all muttering in deep conversation. And, of course, just because she had terrible luck, as the door clicked shut, Jasper’s eyes shot up to find her own. 

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she turned away, hiding behind her curtain of hair as she swiftly made her way down the hall to the restroom. Her heart pounded in her ears as she panicked. It hadn’t even been a week and now everybody was going to find out. So much for a fresh start. Sure, they had only seen her leave the office, but they would know something was up, and she knew it wouldn’t take them long to figure it out. And that’s if the didn’t figure out from Carlisle first.

It was one thing when it was just Edward who had seen her, but now the whole family had, and worst of all, Jasper. He would definitely be bringing it up next time that she saw him in class, if she was lucky enough to not run into him again sooner. She had to think of an excuse before then, or at lease a reason to convince him to keep her secret to himself and his family. But her mind was completely void of any ideas and all she could do was hope that she could find one before school tomorrow. 

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@itsmytimetoodream

[abbatoirablaze]

Locked Up, Chapter 1

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings:  taboo relationships, sexual situations, mentions of crimes/murder, noncon, teasing, manipulation, forced stimulation.

“Who the hell are you, kitten?” the inmate smirked, “Reyes get himself a sexy little piece of ass to watch while he’s judgin’ us?”

You frowned.

Ransom Drysdale

He was put away for the murder of his eccentric billionaire grandfather who was both a well-known published writer, and the head of a major publishing company.  It was an irony, considering both the company and the murdered man were all about murder mysteries.

“Doctor Reyes has retired, Mr. Drysdale,” you replied, not acknowledging his more vulgar statements, “I’m your new doctor.  This is to be our introductory meeting.”

He smirked a little bit wider, his teeth making him look like a wolf hunting his prey, “tell me, doc…am I popping your cherry?  Am I that lucky man that just gets to slide in and be the first one before those other animals leave you a gaping mess?”

“Hardly,” you scoffed, not giving him the satisfaction of being your first patient, “I’ve already met with a few other men on your cell block.  You’re oddly present in everyone’s lives…I’m sure you’ve seen them coming and going today.”

“Jensen and Levinson don’t count,” he scoffed, admitting to you that he had indeed noticed the two men coming and going, “they’ve committed petty crimes at best…and Levinson and Jensen are easy to diagnose.  Levinson has authority and impulse issues.  Jensen is just pathetic.  Can’t talk to anything with a vagina because he falls in love with it.  That one has more abandonment issues than I have money.”

“You don’t have any money, Mr. Drysdale,” you reminded him sweetly, “your assets have been frozen since your arraignment…mommy dearest pays for everything, remember?  And as far as my other patients are concerned, none of them matter right now.  Right now, you are my main priority.”

 “Oh, am I?” he teased; his voice sounding more grating the longer you were with him, “do me a favor then.  Be a good girl and get on your knees…it’s been a while since a pretty little mouth like yours was wrapped around my cock…or better yet, bend over.   Show me just how much of a priority I am by letting that tight, wound-up little cunt choke my cock.  You’re no socialite, but I bet if you let me, I’d have you moaning like those other little sluts in no time.”

Behind you, the officers were chuckling.  You shot them a glare but said nothing.

“Come on now, kitten…cat got your tongue?” Ransom teased as he kicked his feet up and onto your desk, “I’m just getting started…so you really need to learn to keep up.  That or learn your place.”

He spread his legs a little bit, as though he was inviting you to get on your knees in front of him and start sucking him off right then and there.

“And what is my place, Mr. Drysdale.”

“Women,” Ransom chuckled, looking back to his guards.  He shook his head before turning back to you, “I’ve already told you, kitten.  On your knees or bent over your desk…I’m not picky…not in here.  So, what do you say you just give in and accept your real role…be a good girl for me.”

“I think that our session is over, Mr. Drysdale,” you answered after a moment.  You caught the small pout that worked its way onto his lips as you grabbed his folder and slipped to the window, now outwardly putting distance between yourselves while also showing that you were no longer paying attention to what he said.  He sucked in a bit of air while you stretched out on your cushion by the window and began writing.  You were fully aware of how your skirt had slid up just enough for him to see the edge of your garter belt and you smirked to yourself, knowing it would torture him, “officers, I’m done with this inmate…you can bring in the next one after lunch.”

“Wait!” Ransom said quickly, slamming his feet back to the ground.  He looked at you wildly, “we’re not done here.  A session is half an hour, an hour if Reyes really got me going…we’ve only been here for ten minutes. I-If that.”

“Well Mr. Drysdale, you see…I’ve already lost interest in whatever it is that you have to say,” you shrugged, still not looking at him.  You felt his eyes trailing up and down your body, but you didn’t dare look at him, “I don’t need any more time to figure you o-“

“Look at me god damn it,” he growled, snapping his arms loud enough to make the chains cause a commotion.  Your eyes flicked to his, and you could see the rage simmering beneath the surface, “you haven’t figured me out, you little bitch.  You don’t even know me.”

“I know enough,” you replied with a simple shrug.  You placed your legs back on the ground, your heels clicking his attention back to your legs.  Your hands worked to smooth your skirt out as you stood, hiding your undergarments from him, “you’re narcissistic.  Textbook matter of fact.  You’re probably the least interesting man I’ve interviewed thus far.  But don’t worry Mr. Drysdale…we can discuss that at your appointment…next week.”

“You little bitch!” he spat as the guards started in on him, “you vicious little bitch.”

“Have a good week, Mr. Drysdale…” you offered as you left the folder at the window and started back towards your desk.

“Thank you…I can take it from here, officer.”

The guard gave you a wary look before giving the other guard who held onto the prisoner’s left arm a sideways glance. 

“You sure, doc?” the second guard asked gently.  He eyed up the behemoth of a man, “Inmate Everett is-“

“Here for evaluation after six consecutive trips to solitary for aggression related issues and write-ups,” you began, cutting the guard off.  You waved your hand dismissively in the air, “yes…I’ve read up on Mr. Everett.  I’m fully aware of what he is capable of.  Thank you.”

“Then you know we can’t just leave you alone in your office with him,” the second guard reminded you, “he’s a dangerous man, ma’am…and no offense, but you’re a little bitty thing.  Even Reyes had us with him when Everett was here.”

“Mr. Everett is no threat to me…”

The silent inmate finally looked down at you.

He covered his own shock over your brazen attitude well enough, but he had to admit, you were an itty-bitty thing.  You looked all business even with the skirt and blazer hugging your every curve.  He knew that you couldn’t have been anywhere close to him, but there was something about you that made him feel like you two were on even playing field, despite his size.

Then again, anyone next to the 6’8” giant seemed to be tiny. 

“Inmate Everett is a dangerous man, doc... I don’t think you’re hearing my partner here!” the first man jumped back in, stressing the fact that Curtis wasn’t some man off the street seeking some counseling over something silly, “we’re over here, trying to make sure that you don’t end up the next addition to his body count.”

“If you bothered learning about your inmates, you’d know that Mr. Everett’s crimes are all against men, not women,” you reminded the two male guards on either side of your new patient, “before that, Mr. Everett worked for the city as an engineer…he was-”

“Look, you wanna be left alone with the psycho, that’s on you…” the man finally growled, shoving his arm off the inmate.  Curtis sneered over his shoulder and the guard took a step back, “but I don’t wanna be hearing no pissin’ and moaning when that psycho attacks you and tears you to shreds…me and Connors here won’t be rushin’ in to save you!”

You looked to the younger guard, who still had his hand on your patient’s arm, “Connors?”

“Ma’am, I really don’t think this is a good idea!”

“Don’t worry, it’s dually noted,” you sighed impatiently, “if it makes you feel better you can link up his chains.”

The guard gave a nervous nod before taking a step forward. 

Curtis turned his attention to him, and Connors stopped, “Maybe…maybe we just watch you get him in, and I give you the keys…yeah?”

You held out your hand, and Connors pulled the lone key from his pocket.  You took it, and stepped away from the door, opening it wider, “after you, Mr. Everett…”

He looked at you again, taking you in. 

You were new. 

He knew that. 

He’d been in the prison for a year and a half already and spent more time in the stuffy office than he cared to admit.  But before he went into solitary, he remembered it belonging to an older man.

You were anything but the older man. 

A little minx wrapped in business attire. 

But even then, you were subtly teasing him. 

He could see the red lace peaking out from your blouse, the top buttons undone from the summer’s unbearable heatwave.  His eyes snapped back to yours when you cleared your throat. 

You sensed his hesitation, and you opened the door a little more, “we only have a limited amount of time, Mr. Everett…please come in.”

Curtis obliged your request and stepped through the entrance. 

Long gone was the layer of dust along the windowsill.  You had dressed it up, ignoring the bars on the outside of the ledge, and had added a padded cushion.  Beside it, he could already see notes from another case.  He scoffed to himself when he noticed Drysdale’s name scribbled at the top. 

You followed him over to the chair, which was no longer a metal one.  Instead, it had been replaced with a soft, velvety looking one.  A shiver ran down his spine when he sat, his hands immediately, instinctively going out. 

You were already waiting on him and had caught his large hands in your own small ones. 

“Please stay still so that I can unlock your belt and secure you to the bolt in the floor, Mr. Everett.”

He made no acknowledgement that he’d even heard you. 

You were quick to reach around his arms, tucking yourself beneath him while you reached for the lock.  His eyes closed, if only for a moment, and your scent wrapped around him, disarming him from whatever he thought the session was going to be. 

You smelled like his favorite season, autumn.  He got another waft of sweet apples and crisp leaves before you were bending away from him, taking the lead of his chain to connect it to the floor. 

He couldn’t help but notice how your skirt hugged the curves of your ass and your childbearing hips.  He shifted slightly and bit back the groan that wanted to break free from his throat as he caught yet another glimpse of your cleavage. 

His cock twitched as he imagined a little thing like you wrapped around him. 

You were positively sinful. 

Here he was, living in his own personal hell, and you were just dangling in front of him like a tasty little treat.  It was like he’d been stranded in the desert, and you were a mirage, teasing him with something he never realized he’d missed outside of prison.

“He’s secure…you may leave.”

The first guard was off, already cursing you, but Connors was a little more reluctant. 

That was until you closed the door. 

Curtis caught himself listening for the click of your heels.  His eyes closed once more, and your perfume came wafting back to him.  Curtis looked over his shoulder, towards the window.  You had picked up the notes, and folded the file shut, before dropping it on your desk.  His eyes followed you as you walked around it and sat down.  In between the two of you was his folder, wide open.  He could make out his picture on the document stapled to the inside, “studying up on the psychotic murderers of B block?”

“Excuse me?”

“Drysdale,” he said dryly, nodding to the file, “he’s on my block too.  Murdered his grandfather…but that was for a few bucks…we’re not the same…”

“I never said that you were.”

“Who’s next on your list to meet with?” Curtis asked abruptly, changing the subject, “Rogers?  Barnes?”

“Client patient confidentiality, Mr. Everett!”

He smirked, “be careful with em…Rogers is as disgusting as they come…seems like a sweet guy…guess he and Barnes were real ladies’ men on the outside…you know…before they became serial killers…before Rogers cut off Barnes’ arm when he realized the good ole sergeant was done and ready to confess his crimes.”

Your cool facade broke at his blatant discussion of the other inmates, “Wh-what?”

He smirked, “Captain Steve Rogers…the guy’s a real prick about his title.  Both of em are.  Last time I was stuck in solitary with him he was braggin’ about how Barnes is his bitch…said that he kept him in line by chopping off his left arm before their trials…Barnes was ready to play ball with the ADA…that Barber guy.  You want a good case; you’ll find it in one of them…Drysdale’s not interesting.  I’m not interesting.”

“I never said that you were or weren’t interesting, Mr. Everett,” you said after a moment.  You flipped your notebook to a new page and began writing, “not that I’m saying that you aren’t…but it’s interesting to me that you are jumping around like this.  Jealousy over me having other patients?  We just met, Mr. Everett.”

“I’m not jealous…you want to know someone who’s jealous-“ 

“Deflection,” you smirked, stopping your writing as you looked into his seafoam eyes, “Mr. Everett did Doctor Reyes leave without telling you he was retiring?”

“I never gave a damn about that guy,” he shrugged offhandedly, “never said more than a sentence to him.”

“And yet…you seem to have no communication problems with me…”

“Am I supposed to?”

“Well…you’re having some sort of communication issues,” you pointed out, “six times in solitary since you were here.  And your last stint was a month and a half for attacking a guard.”

He shrugged, “I didn’t like the way that he was looking at me…”

“And how was he looking at you, Mr. Everett?”

“Stop that bullshit stuff,” he groaned tiredly, “call me Curtis…not Mr. Everett.”  

“How was he looking at you, Curtis?”

“Like an animal,” he answered honestly, giving you a look, “sort of how you see me.”

“You like putting words in my mouth, don’t you, Curtis?”

“I’d like to put something in your mouth,” he admitted unashamed as he tried using his own methods to put a little distance between the two of you.  He realized just how much he’d been speaking, and he frowned.  There was something about you that made him all too willing to speak; something that broke his walls down instantaneously, “I-“

“Stop,” you said firmly, cutting him off.  Curtis looked at you, his brow furrowing, “when it’s the two of us, there will be no grandstanding…no using vulgar language.  This is just a place for open and honest communication.  I think that’s something you can respect, yes?”

“I was being honest,” Curtis smirked, leaning forward.  You narrowed your eyes at him, unsure of what game he was playing at.  You’d already dealt with Ransom Drysdale this afternoon, and he’d made a very similar statement.  You were about to open your mouth and Curtis leaned his elbows on your desk, “how is a sexy little minx like you a doctor, huh?  You realize that you’re that good at getting into people’s head and living there rent-free that you just said, ‘I’m going to do this from now on?’  And the way that mouth’s parted right now…what would you say if I told you about when you were doing my chains, the only thing that ran through my mind was how good you smelled…how it would be to have you not just bent over, but on your knees for me…falling apart on my-”

“Mr. Everett…”

“Curtis…sweetheart…”

“Maybe we should have our session another time, Curtis…when you realize that you need to have some manners when you talk to me.”

“I thought you said you wanted open and honest communication…”

“About you, Mr. Everett,” you answered, leaning back into your seat, “not me…or rather, what you would like to do to me.”

“Oh, honey…you on your knees…that would all be about me.  Don’t be confused, thinking that any of it would be for your benefit,” he growled seductively.  He held back his smile when he noticed how your hands had been folded in your lap, but you moved them only to cross your legs.  A smirk built up on his face when he saw your thighs clenching together.  He licked his lips, “you’re a dirty little minx, doc…aren’t you?  You thinking about riding my cock?  About becoming a drooling little ragdoll while I fucked the brain out of your pretty little head…is that why you really took a job in a men’s prison?  Want to live in our heads rent free until we all go crazy and fuck you?”

“This conversation is over, Mr. Everett.”

“Curtis, honey,” he said in a gravelly voice.  You couldn’t hold back the whimper as it escaped the back of your throat, “you know, normally, I’d tell you that you need to be a good girl and follow my requests…answer my questions then get on your knees and suck the soul out of me…but I think I like it better knowing that you’re a little brat…I’d love to just fuck that out of you…”

“G-goodbye Mr. Everett.”

You were quick to rush past him, already reaching for the door, but his hand reached out and he grabbed you, pulling you back to him with such force that you tumbled onto his lap.  Your eyes went wide, and he could feel your heart slamming against your chest.  Your heart was beating so quickly.

“Little hummingbird are you afraid of me?” he teased, “or just afraid that you like the way I speak to you?”

He bounced his knee and your hands reached down to balance yourself on his large thigh.  He could feel the heat between your legs.  Your skirt had ridden up so that he could see the full garter.  With another smirk, he reached down, snapping the material against your inner thigh.  He felt your core clenching around nothing and a moan pass from your lips. 

You scrambled, hurriedly, off his lap, falling to the floor. 

“Little hummingbird…we weren’t done!” he teased. 

Curtis chuckled to himself, watching as you scattered out of the room, and as the door closed behind him. 

“Too easy…”

Chapter 2

Tag List:  @lohnes16, @prokey16, @tenaciousperfectionunknown, @teambarnes72

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

TW: Waterboarding, Shame Hi, today I just want to reach out for advice or resources. Me and my trauma specialist have ben working on EMDR as of recent. To say the least, it's shaken me up a bit. I feel bad because I can't get through even 5 seconds into the memory without crying, and it's really been weighing on me. I have been diagnosed with DID and CPTSD for many years (I don't need resources for DID because she helps us out a lot!). But, it's never gotten to the point that I stay awake at night thinking about what has happened to me, I feel on alert sleeping because i'm afraid of getting hurt and vunerable like that again. It's been many years since that has happened, but I think revisiting this as i'm older has shaken me up and regressed me in some way. I used to stay awake at night as a kid to my memory, and now i'm paranoid and restless like that again. I think i'm very shameful because I feel so raw, I can't realy get through a session without feeling in danger, which I guess is the CPTSD part of things. I'm just afraid of being behind everyone else regarding my healing journey. Are there any tips in helping with sleep, flashbacks, or just easing hypervigilance. I understand that being waterboarded isn't a common experience so I understand if you have no advice for me! If you got this far, thank you for reading!

Hey anon,

First, I want to just casually slide these CPTSD resources to you which I made for a podcast I run. On the Google slides, the beginning is more informational, the the second half is more regarding exercises and coping methods for CPTSD and related issues. The Google Docs link is to worksheets you can fill out for those exercises.

Those being sent, when it comes to CPTSD and healing, there is no such thing as being "behind" or "regressing," so long as you are moving forward in your journey. There will be periods of difficulty, times where having to face your trauma can make you feel like you're going backwards, but you need to remember that facing it means you are pushing forward. Healing is not a linear journey, and it looks different for everyone. There is no timeline, no standard, no healing quota to be met. You are doing so well, anon. Dealing with and struggling with CPTSD is not an easy feat, and EMDR is not meant to feel nice at first. The goal is to bring up trauma, to bring up traumatic feelings, and then to learn to manage it. The goal is to bring up the shit so that you can learn how to clean the litter box. Yeah, the shit may stink, but you can't learn to clean it if it isn't there.

As you go through this journey, make sure you're keeping in mind your healthy coping skills, grounding methods, and anchors. Try to maintain a sleep routine, even if it's difficult. Do the same thing before bed every night. Personally, I change, I get a cup of tea, I put my devices away, I journal a half hour, and then I meditate, and then I wash my face, brush my teeth, and lay down with some gentle music at the same time every night, and then I wake up at the same time every morning. Keeping yourself structured and finding ways to disconnect, get your thoughts and anxieties out of your head, and get your body calm before bed can help tremendously with sleep.

I hope this all helps anon. I wish you the best of luck.

~ Mod Night

[poppyandzena]

Poppy going in on how the left should believe all victims... well Poppy, you certainly don't believe the people who're coming out to say they feel victimized by you, are you saying you also don't believe all victims? Hm, interesting! Also, sometimes people make false claims and that's why I do think people should be careful. Like, you're gonna cry about people making docs about you yet whine when people didn't "believe" you, it's because there's nothing to believe. If a breakup somehow renders consent during sex null and void, I think you need to take some extra sex ed seminars or something. Since when is there a min/max for breaking up post sex? Like if she'd waited a few more days it would have been more consensual?

When you muddy the definitions of rape, consent, sexual assault like this, you do victims a disservice. The docs show it all Poppy, NF tried to break up with you. You refused to accept it. You can't say "uh uh see it wasn't consensual because I was trying to make it work and that's what the consent was", you can't say "uh uh my bpd" because fuck you. Take responsibility. Stop hiding behind your diagnoses. If you were really manic for 4 months and couldn't consent, why didn't Zena intervene? Why didn't they suggest you guys not have sex during this very iffy visit? Hmmmm I seem to remember someone telling NF they'd be very disappointed if you guys met up and only had sex once, or none at all...

Get help. Get serious help. Get some for Zena too while you're at it.

^

[obliqueblade]

Update- Health Concerns/Inspo/ rambling a bit

“So Oblique where have you been?” 

That is a great question reader. The truth is complicated… and rather long. 

Not to be like “ao3 writer moment” but… 

I have cancer. Had it for a while actually. I got diagnosed right at 20, but I had symptoms for a while before that. We had thought it was just my asthma acting up, but nope. 

I have lung cancer. Wooo. 

Funnily enough, about a month or so later, Technoblade released his announcement video. 

It was strange. Knowing that while I was going through treatment, someone I looked up to across the country was doing something similar. I remember watching that video hooked up to my oxygen machine, and feeling a pit in my stomach when he had mentioned being able to see where it was. While I don’t have Sarcoma, most cancer patients, especially those in the ward knew what that meant. 

I made a joke though, that none of my doctors, or friends really appreciated. Statistically, I would die before he did, so I at least wouldn’t have to live in a world without him. 

… clearly, this did not go the way I had hoped. 

Off and on for that year, I was in and out of the hospital in Clevland, Ohio. Now this is not where I live normally, but it was close to my grandparents. I also found out how much I hated snow. Moreso, when your lungs also hate it and you at the same time. 

“Oh, Oblique, just how common is lung cancer in your early 20s?” 

Why dear reader another GREAT question! The answer is- it’s not. Or the early signs are easy to miss. I was one of the youngest patients at CC frequently, and one of the only ones with lung cancer during my stay. We were able to catch it so quickly because my step moms brother had CF, so my mom spent a lot of time in hospitals around people who couldn’t breathe. After the first few times, I couldn’t catch my breath, no matter what I did she wanted me to go and get tested to find out what it was since it was clearly worse than just asthma. We knew it wasn’t CF, because they would’ve found that earlier. Ruled out pneumonia pretty quickly too as it was the middle of summer. My FP happened to think to test cancer, just in case. My Dad and I had laughed, it was such a long shot it was more likely I was just having pretty frequent panic attacks. Now I knew deep down it wasn’t panic attacks and my mom did too, but the C-word was terrifying. 

And then we got the tests back. I knew as soon as he walked in, hell I knew when they did the tests, and yes there are multiple. 

I asked my mom to leave the room, My Dad hadn’t been able to come in that day with us, and I needed to talk to him about how long he thought I had. 

He didn’t reply for a while, and I’ll never forget the look on his face. 

At the time of my diagnosis, I was 19. Statistically, the chance of living to see my 24th birthday was almost impossible. 

Doc pretty much told me that IF I could survive the next 7-12 months without the cancer spreading to my other organs my chances were pretty good. I’d later find out that the chances of it spreading were so high, and if it ever does the chances that I make it almost none. However, even once I passed every year after would be considered a miracle if I got past five. 

He went into the next room and talked to my mom for a while, while I tried to wrap my head around everything. Just how quickly my life had changed. How fast it was all going to happen. What finally broke me, was my youngest sister texting me from one of her middle school classes asking me how it was going. Realizing I’d never get to see her graduate, take her on girls' days, help her through heartbreak, watch her get married. 

At that moment it felt like the cancer had already killed me. It had stolen not only my life but my place in the lives of my family. Doc and Mom came back in at some point during my breakdown and sat with me. 

We didn’t leave that office for a while. When we did, I told my mom that I wanted to be the one to tell my Dad and sister before we talked about where we were going to go. 

So that night after dinner, we sat at the kitchen table, and I simply said 

“This air quality seems to be so shitty, that my lungs have decided to refuse work,” 

And my mother broke into tears, and my dad and sister stared at me like I was crazy. Which I kind of felt I deserved to be. Once we had cleared up the confusion, my dad asked me the same question I had asked the doctor. 

I told him that realistically he was going to have to rely on either my older or younger sister to wipe his ass when he couldn’t do it anymore. I was trying really hard to make light of the situation because I didn’t want everyone to be sad before I died. There would be plenty of time for it afterward anyway. 

Maybe that’s another thing I recognized from Techno’s initial video. Trying so hard to make sure that no one was worried despite knowing what was going to happen. And even though I think deep down a lot of us at least feared, the concept was so ridiculous and insane. How could someone like him just… 

On the day of the announcement, I saw Dreams tweet before the YouTube notification came through. 

I sat in my hospital bed playing Minecraft on the PC I had finally saved up enough to get, and I was on the phone with my best friend back in my home state. All I can remember is saying “Please. Please don’t let it be who I think it is. Please don’t let it be.” The last thing I remember hearing was my friend say “Oh ____ I am so sorry.” 

I hung up the phone and just sobbed. I ripped out my IV and heart monitor culled into a ball on the floor and just lost it. It didn’t take long before my nightly nurse ran into the room and they eventually had to sedate me. 

I woke up a few hours later, and for a moment I thought I had dreamed it. Yet I saw my mom in my room and I knew that I hadn’t. She had started working remotely due to COVID-19 and her job was letting her continue to remote in so she could come to Ohio with me and stay between the hospital and my grandparent's house. My dad would drive, and while Ohio was closer than some of the other hospitals this is still an 8+ hour drive every other week with my sister and stay with me. 

I had actually been doing pretty well at this point. Due to my age, and the fact my cancer had not spread yet, I was a really good candidate for surgery. However, there are underlying health conditions and risks that have to be monitored and dealt with before they can do the surgery. They had to give me enough time between treatments so I still had the strength to survive the surgery. 

When the video was released, I finished up another round of medications, this time ones that showed promising effects and weren’t damaging to my strength so I would survive the surgery. 

After the video came out, my mental health dipped hard, and fast, and my physical health soon followed. Then one of my best friends as the center passed. She was three months younger than me. She had leukemia, and the doctors had been amazed she had lived as long as she had since she had it since she was a kid. They thought she was in remission in her teens, but she relapsed pretty hard right before she turned 19. Halfway through my stay there, she had taken a dip, and her health hadn’t been able to recover. 

At that moment I wanted to die. I couldn’t see a point in living, of fighting, when the time I bought through these treatments maybe would last a few years. My doctors essentially had to rework my treatment plan and appeal to my parents that if they wanted me to live, they needed to have me fight for it. 

So much as those days where my family would come in and beg me to try and fight I just didn’t have it in me. I couldn’t see a life for myself anymore. Now some people may look at that and think it's dumb, like “Oh some guy you never even met, someone who didn’t even know you existed, died and now you’ve decided to just die?” 

Well first off rude. Secondly, I was already suicidal, and you’ll find it’s extremely common for patients with life-threatening diseases to need therapists constantly because they have extreme suicidal tendencies. Also, I want to state that yes I am referencing Techno a lot in this, but know that I am remarking about his passing and how it affected me, I am not doing so as a way to blame or hate him. Obviously, I cannot claim to know what or how he was feeling in those last few months, but I do know that we don’t get a choice when cancer kills us. 

It isn’t up to us. 

Hell, maybe no one is even reading this, maybe I dyed typing it up, or before I posted it. The point is I don’t want some moron to read this and think “Wow attacking a cancer patient, Oblique whatever is next?” 

Dear lord this thing is four pages now, alright to quickly wrap up on why and how I’m back. 

Just before all this went down, I had gotten into Hermitcraft. Now back when I was growing up and living under different circumstances, I wasn’t allowed internet access, so I missed out on a lot in the mid-2010s, one of which being Hermitcraft and well Minecraft as a whole. 

Anyway, I found specifically GoodtimeswithScar and Grian. 

Now, I do watch other Hermits, but at this time I watched these two the most. I never used Twitch before, and while I still don’t really like the platform I loved watching Scar stream. 

Scar, actually, was the reason I got determined to at least try and fight this damn cancer. 

See, before this, I didn’t know about Scar’s illness. I didn’t know he was in a wheelchair and I didn’t know he was on oxygen tanks either. So the first stream I got to watch, lying in my hospital bed, hooked up to about a million blinking machines, I opened it to see someone else wearing oxygen tubes. Someone who was also hooked up to a million different things. Yet, Scar could create some of the most beautiful things I had gotten to see while stuck in that room. It was like he weaved pure magic through the screen. 

So, I came to the conclusion that what the hell. If I died so would my memories. The things I’ve seen and people I’ve met, all of it would go with me. And if there’s one thing I learned from Techno, is that “... the Sun Kast fallacy wouldn’t allow it,”. 

So, we restarted my treatment plan. Eventually, we did the surgery and after making sure I was stabilized and showed no signs of infection, or that the cancer was making a comeback right away they allowed me to be transferred home. Right in time for that good ol’ Southern heat. 

Now, I still have to regularly go to the hospital, as well as wear my lovely little oxygen tubes around, and take PLENTY of drugs (OMG so many cotton mouth is REAL), but not to jinx anything I’ve been doing fairly well these past few weeks. 

Of course, this can change in an instant, and I have to be extremely careful, especially due to Covid (Seriously guys if someone coughs on me I might as well get into the coffin now.) 

As for why I decided to write this fic? Well, in a way the Hermits helped me live. Helped my parents not have to bury one of their kids. Helped me see my sister start high school. Helped me reach my 21st birthday. 

19-21. 

Three years down. 

Realistically, I know there’s going to be a day I get the results that not only is the cancer back, but that it has spread. I know this. And I also know that when that time comes I will have to accept that and move forward as I can. I may never be as great as Alex, and I don’t want to be, but I want to be like him in that I will accept and try to easily go when it’s my time, knowing that I did all that I could. 

In the meantime, I might as well leave something for the small part of the world that I can. 

If and when my updates stop, I’ll leave a message for my friend on how to log into my Tumblr so she can at least give you guys some closure. 

Take care, and I will see you when I see you, Readers! 

Update:

So originally, this was going to be posted on the 13th– clearly, that didn’t happen. I had a minor health setback. Bacteria truly is my greatest enemy. I got sent back to the hospital and then saw my specialist on the 13th and a whole new wave of antibiotics. I’m still in the hospital being monitored, which is kinda like every few hours someone comes in and pokes me so I can never sleep. 

Which ya know is fun. 

So I got my roommates to bring my laptop under the guise of doing school work but in reality, I just wanted better access to edit because that’s hard to do on my phone. 

Anyway, I’ll keep you guys posted. Chapter 2 should be posted within the next week or so health providing. Knock on wood.

[ambsash]

I’ve been wrangling pretty hard with the idea that I might be neurodivergent, either ADHD or ASD or both. I look at these stories people tell, I talk to my neurodivergent friends, and I see so much of myself in them and their stories that it genuinely scares me. I feel like I should be happy to potentially be discovering something so significant about myself—but I’m afraid. I’m afraid of being alone forever, I’m afraid of never being understood, and I’m afraid of being judged before being given a chance to prove myself. All my life there has been this pattern of people meeting me and thinking I’m a weird person because I just don’t know how to present myself. I mask so much of who I am and I didn’t even realize it for most of my life. I’ve gone through life with such difficulty fitting in no matter how hard I try. It feels like the harder I try the weirder people think I am. I feel like an alien. My best friend is autistic (bless her heart for putting up with me). We’re so much alike and I see so much of myself in who she is and it’s unlike anything I’ve ever experienced with neurotypical people. Idk if that’s any kind of sign of what I am but it’s supplementary evidence that I think about a lot.

That isn’t even to mention the actual genuine health issues I’m having that make me lean towards either ADHD or that AND ASD. I struggle so fucking hard to do things, things I know I really enjoy doing. I am writing a novel, a story that has been in my head and developing for at least 2 years. I can fantasize about how great it’s gonna be in my head, and I’m almost always thinking about it and planning constantly. I’m like actually genuinely obsessed with it...and then when it comes time to put words on paper I can’t fucking do it. No matter how hard I try, how badly I wanna do it, I cannot fucking bother even opening google docs most of the time. I feel like I’ve wasted so much time that I can’t get back or make up for and it makes me so upset sometimes. I can typically manage stuff like washing the dishes or helping out around the house but only because I feel completely awful not pitching in at all since I’m almost 26 and still living at home. I’m afraid of many things but there are few things I fear more than giving up and making people think I’m a deadbeat. God, and the fucking memory issues.

I wish undiagnosed neurodivergency was a more inviting topic of discussion. It’s so hard to bring this shit up to people without them implying I’m faking it to be “quirky” or am already going as far as self-diagnosing myself. It makes understanding myself a lot harder when I’m afraid of seeking second opinions before deciding to persue a diagnosis. It isn’t my fault that neurodivergency has become so romanticized online. I just want to improve my quality of life. I don’t want to be this way but I very well might be anyway. Idk. I’ll seek out a professional.

Edit: Lmao side-tangent I’m editing in later because I just remembered this and thought it was funny. I had a job interview walk-through thing a week or so ago and one of the guys I met made a joke that he was the CEO of the entire company and I didn’t realize he was joking even a little bit until someone else told me. I truly believed this random person joking about being the CEO of Goodwill was the CEO of Goodwill. What that says about me and my place on the spectrum, I will leave up to interpretation /j

[phleb0tomist]

I was wondering what the diagnosis process looked like for you in regards to me/cfs? What tests were done? (Only asking because I suspect I may have it, however my general doctor got my blood drawn (even though there are no known tests to diagnose cfs/me), and tests results came back normal. They blamed it on my medications, but I've been experiencing the symptoms way before I took the medications.)

Now I'm having to call and ask them what I'm supposed to do, since I'm struggling.

Have you struggled getting an evaluation?

How did you make others believe and advocate for you?

Not forced to answer at all btw!

hello there. i’m sorry you’ve been struggling and that your healthcare has been lacklustre! this post is going to be long so strap in <3

the diagnosis process varies from doctor to doctor. tbh many doctors are reluctant to consider ME even if it’s a severe case or a very classic case because they generally aren’t taught how to recognise it. it can be helpful to send your doctor links to official resources so they have a framework for helping you. if i were you, I’d look up the official guidelines for suspecting ME/CFS in your country and either send a link to your doctor or print them out. most doctors i meet will admit to my face that they haven’t read the guidelines for ME, so basically they’re not informed on suspecting, diagnosing, or treating it. in the UK where I live, the NICE guidelines explain the steps that should be taken if ME is suspected.

ME/CFS is a diagnosis of exclusion, so basically they do standard tests (like blood tests) first to make sure your symptoms aren’t caused by any other condition. once they’ve ruled out other causes, they see if you meet the ME/CFS criteria they use in your area. (in theory, diagnosis should take 3-6 months, but a lot of docs take a ‘wait and see’ approach instead, which can sometimes last years. personally i don’t think a ‘wait and see’ approach is appropriate, especially if you’re young. you may have to be assertive and ask multiple times to be evaluated. bear in mind it’s the system failing, not you.) the way they decide if you meet the criteria is by discussing your symptom history, which might take a few appointments. the best way to advocate for yourself is to bring another person to back you up (sorry to say this but statistically, it helps if it’s a male family member), to have a list of your symptoms and a timeline written down, and to be clear about the practical ways that your symptoms impact your life. i.e. “it takes me (x amount of time) to recover from going on a short walk. this symptom gets worse (x amount of time) after i do a particular activity and lasts (x days). i can no longer do x activity at all because of my symptoms. I’ve tried x y and z and it hasn’t improved my symptoms. I want to get my quality of life back.”

I don’t remember my diagnosis process very well. i had major symptoms for several years before ME was even considered, i was repeatedly brushed off and told my symptoms were from my autism even though that doesn’t add up. interestingly i was given treatments before I had a diagnosis. then i had a ‘working diagnosis’ of ME in my teens, which is where they think you probably have something but they don’t put it in your file till they’re sure. i’ve had a proper diagnosis on my file for years now, but i don’t know when it got there or who put it there. (??) the diagnosis process can be kinda weird. mine took forever but i know other people who were diagnosed quickly and efficiently, so it’s not impossible.

personally i had a lot of random tests, blood tests to CT scans to x rays, basically any test that was related to my symptoms (like a head MRI for headaches). i do actually have other conditions which show up on tests (like scoliosis), but since scoliosis cannot possibly be causing my specific pattern of exertion-related symptoms, i still got diagnosed with ME. having another condition or having medication side effects does not mean you can’t also have ME! especially if your symptoms started before you took the meds, like you said.

i feel like i’ve rambled enough. i hope this was helpful. if you have any more questions please send another ask and I’ll try my best to answer!

[wolfsbane-and-nettles]

I have a feeling doctors in my area are just not great. For many reasons. One that just flabbergasts me every time is that after diagnostic things like an endoscopy and bloodwork they proceed to ask me if I feel better and when I say no they tell me it all came back okay so am I sure and then when I say yes I'm sure they get snippy with me.

If you have had diagnostic tests for health things, do your doctors ask if doing the test or the results of the test make you feel better?

*Asks are for fun, no pressure.

Oh boy, do I feel this on a personal level. 100% yes, this has happened to me.

So, I have celiac disease, and was diagnosed about sixteen years ago, when I was eleven. In seventh grade I came down with strep throat, and it "attacked my stomach", which brought out the celiac disease. (It's been so long that I truly don't remember how the doctor worded it, so that's my short paraphrasing of a blurry memory.)

Before that, I was a very healthy and active child...but when I recovered from strep, I still couldn't hold anything down. I was out of school so often, going to my pediatrician all the time, and eventually going to the hospital to see specialists about it. Blood work showed absolutely nothing wrong with me (maybe low in electrolytes and calcium.) so the doctors gave me a kids book called "Be The Master of Your Pain" or something.

They were convinced I was faking it to get out of school and have attention. It took so long for anyone to believe me. Any time I went to the doctor or specialists they'd request bloodwork, and when the results came back would ask "hey, you feeling better now?" Ummm...no? Obviously not if this is my fourth month of random blood tests?

Finally, I went in for a endoscopy, had a biopsy and, wouldn't you know...I had celiac disease! I went under fully thinking that I was faking it for attention because they had convinced me of that. Instead, I was right. Something was wrong.

I was then put on a gluten free diet, which was really hard sixteen years ago (definitely easier than twenty or more years ago, but still way harder than it is today) and after a week, I had already started feeling better.

It was a really formative time for me, and ruined a lot of the trust I had in doctors for a good amount of time. I'm still very skeptical of going to doctors because of how they waved off my pain when I was a child. Blood tests don't show everything. Endoscopies don't show everything. Just because it comes back "normal" or "fine" doesn't mean anything. How many autoimmune conditions don't show up unless your tested during a flareup, like Lupus, for example.

I still have chronic pain to this day, getting worse by the year, but I no longer go to doctors to help with it if I can avoid it. The common cold or a flu? Sure, hit me up with those meds, doc. But when something else feels wrong, I try to deal with it on my own simply because of those experiences. You know your body, you know what feels right and what feels wrong. Don't let doctors confuse you or make you doubt yourself!

[glen-the-pigeon]

More headcanons :3 This time, sickfic style headcanons about TwoBrains catching a germ from one of his mice and needing to get help from his sworn enemy, and, coincidentally, a vet scientist - Glen Furlbam

While TwoBrains is in his lab displaying his latest invention to his henchmen, he gets distracted by something that smells... off

He sniffs around the lab, past his blackboard, past the scattered mess of wires and metal from building his ray, over to where his pet mice nest

Worried, he starts sifting through their nests, giving them all sniffs. The domesticated mice don't mind, playing with him and leaning into his touch, while the wild mice he keeps are very much displeased, some even biting or scratching him, but he checks them all out of concern

Finally, as he uncovers the last mouse - his pet Tallulah - he realizes what the smell is. Tallulah is very sick and smells of germs (he remembers that mice can smell when their fellows are ill)

TwoBrains sets up a makeshift microbiology lab, using an old terrarium as an incubator and setting gelatin in the lid of his cheese ball container to use as a plate (like an agar plate in a real lab)

However, after a few days of caring for Tallulah, he begins to notice his breathing getting labored and his eyes feeling funny while trying to examine the makeshift plate for bacterial colonies.

Concerned, the henchmen tell him to take a break

He calls their concerns poppycock, saying that should be the word of the day, and tries to keep working

However, he keeps getting sicker, to the point where he lets the henchmen make him a little nest on the cheese couch and lead him to sit down

Doc falls into a fevered sleep, and the next time he wakes, he's delirious and in terrible shape

TwoBrains is far too sick to play doctor for himself, and none of the doctors in Fair City would know what to do, since he caught the disease from a fellow rodent (plus, they don't see villains). Worse still, Dr. Robert Tubing is out of town

The henchmen remember that fellow villain Glen Furlblam works as a microbiologist at Fair City Veterinary Hospital (that's where he got his litter of grumpy kitties, and the job is an outlet for his love of science)

When TwoBrains is hauled to Glen's work during his lunch break looking sick as a dog - er, sick as a mouse - Glen's first instinct is to turn him away

"Oh, so the great Doctor Two-Brains needs my help? After he called me a second-rate villain? Forget it."

But he can't help but feel compassion when he sees just how dangerously sick his enemy is

Telling the henchmen that the doctor will owe him one for this and claiming he's only doing it because he needs TwoBrains to be well enough for a villainous rematch, he begins tending to him

He sneaks TwoBrains into the microbiology lab and begins running all sorts of tests on him

Glen, who secretly has a crush on TwoBrains and can't help but be tender with him despite his performative hatred, makes TwoBrains a nest out of spare lab coats and personally helps him eat and makes sure he stays hydrated while the tests are being run

He diagnoses TwoBrains and figures out what medications him and his pet Tallulah will need, smuggling the doctor and the medications out of the hospital when his shift ends

Not wanting to leave the doctor alone while he heals, Glen continues to go to TwoBrains' lair every day after work, making sure him and his pet takes their medicine and checking on them

In his state of delirium, TwoBrains wakes up and finds Glen cradling his head, gently administering his medicine, and he finds all of his hidden endearment for his enemy bubbling to the surface. In his dreamlike feverish state, TwoBrains tells Glen he cares for him before drifting back to sleep

Glen's face flushes, and he pretends he didn't hear it and that he doesn't care, but deep down he's a mess about it

When TwoBrains comes out of his fever the next day and the meds kick in, he's immediately furious and confused why Glen is in his lab, and he demands to know why the henchmen let him in

Glen and TwoBrains start arguing, with Glen acting like he did it for selfish reasons and TwoBrains acting like he would rather have gotten sicker then accept help from someone he hates

But after the initial conflict settles down and the two really think about it, they both know they care about each other

TwoBrains awkwardly thanks Glen, and Glen tells him it was no problem

Then Glen asks if TwoBrains really meant what he said

TwoBrains at first doesn't know what Glen is referring to, but then the memory hits him like a slap in the face - telling Glen he cares about him

TwoBrains gets angry at himself and flustered, but before he can answer, Glen says, "Never mind. People say weird things all the time when they're sick. But since you're better now, I guess I'll leave you to it."

Glen goes to leave, but TwoBrains calls out for him, awkwardly pausing and unsure of what to say, just knowing he doesn't want his enemy (and his crush?) to leave

He fakes a cough very phonily, claiming, "I think- I think I'm not feeling that great again all of a sudden."

Glen smirks. "Well, then I guess I'll have to stay longer. Not because I want to, of course."

The two spend the rest of the day together <3 <3 <3

[headpainmigraine]

June is Migraine Awareness Month, and as someone who suffers with stupid migraines, I thought I'd write up some thoughts.

I think people liked the 'migraine is not a headache' post, so I thought I'd continue something like that?

I watched the Migraine World Summit this year, which is a series of migraine experts, headache specialists, researchers and patients giving talks about various experiences and new research on migraine - it offered a lot of stuff I hadn't heard about migraines before, HOWEVER -

You can find them here, but for as helpful and interesting as the videos are, you DO have to pay for full access, and it's NOT CHEAP, and I certainly can't afford it.

I can't offer any source links to that stuff because of this.

Otherwise, most of the stuff I plan to write about is just going to be little bits and pieces I've picked up from my specialist team, living with migraine, my own research, supplemented by searches on DuckDuckGo to make sure I'm remembering things properly, because my memory suuuucks.

But yeah. I might use this post to keep track of them.

I honestly don't know if any of this is going to be helpful, but if all it does is make someone else with migraines feel seen, or make someone who wasn't aware of migraines more informed, then cool.

Caveat: I'm in the UK, but most of the info should be universal. Medication and discussions of doctors, less so. Just putting a blanket statement here that I'm aware that seeing a doc in the US is expensive, as are drugs, and that this provides a barrier to a lot of people.

Also that, even in the UK, it's difficult to see a headache specialist, or even just a GP.

The crappy thing, is that migraine is such a complex condition that it's really difficult to proceed WITHOUT seeing a headache specialist for treatment, especially if your migraines are chronic. This information might still be helpful to people struggling without a doctor, but bear in mind that there are a host of differential diagnoses for migraine, some of them immediately serious, and a diagnosis over the internet for this condition should only be a stopgap measure, in an ideal world.

Chronic Migraine isn't a headache

.

Migraine isn't a Headache Part Two: it seemed to last for hours, it seemed to last for days

.

Migraine isn't a Headache Part Three: except for when it is

.

Migraine isn't a Headache Part Four: but what if a headache is all I get?

.

Migraine isn't a Headache Part Five: make it go away

Migraine isn't a Headache Part Six: make it stop

[askfallenroyalty]

sorry for nittypicking but in Toriel’s dialogue she’s saying “likey” instead of “likely”.

…there’s also a high chance I am wrong because I’m dyslexic, but I thiiiink?? That’s what I’m seeing??

// not nitpicky i'm just too lazy to fix things sometimes or i got other things going on i put it off. i do lil fixes all the time, its just, most of that (hopefully) gets caught when i do transcripts and the uploading. that said, i do slip up and sometimes i'm too tired to do the transcripts right away (cause god knows i work at this at late/early hours x-x)

but yeah whenever someone corrects me with a typo an angel gets wings /pos thank u so much it truly is so kind and unfair that you guys have to do that. if this wasn't a free comic i'd defs hire someone to do the proof reading and transcripts to catch things but alas, i'm the only one making the comic

i'm pretty sure (never got diagnosed) i have dyslexia for at least numbers if not words as well. i struggle with certain spellings and remembering certain grammar (god. the apostrophe rule of ' confuses me i swear to god i've googled it and got different results. im so fuckin confused and scared) i also just. read words in a certain way that is not grounded in any normal grammar. esp with words if i don't hear often or at all i just make shit up on how its pronounced. (not a deliberate choice) idk if thats dyslexia or some other??? thing i have??? i'd see a doc about but i don't got insurance

[pops-exe]

Hey, you mentioned you got diagnosed with a sleep disorder this year and I was wondering which one and how you ended up getting diagnosed with it? Asking for me lol, I think I might have a sleep disorder

Yeah so I got diagnosed with something called idiopathic hypersomnia (IH). It was a very long process. For years I was sooo sleepy throughout school and college. Everyone says they're tired so I thought it was just normal. Plus I was diagnosed with depression so my doc and I assumed it was a leftover symptom. Switched meds several times, used caffeine pills, even put on stims for a while. I would sleep perfectly at night and would take 2+hr naps during the day. I would regularly doze off during class and work no matter how hard I tried to stay alert Like I'd think I was awake and realize I was typing gibberish on my computer.

And so last year my therapist said, go see a sleep doctor. So my primary doctor referred me to a neurologist.

The testing part is pretty complex. You have to stop mental health meds for 2 weeks before the test. The 1st part is called a polysomnogram and it's to see how you sleep at night and to rule out any possible causes for the sleepiness (sleep apnea, sleep walking, etc). You get hooked up to a bunch of electrodes to measure your brain waves and then you sleep for the night.

Then if the polysomnogram is normal (sleep apnea or not sleeping at all would make the next part inaccurate) they do the mslt, multiple sleep latency test. Basically you, or try to, nap every 2hrs. You get a certain amount of time to fall sleep, and they measure how fast you do and if you enter rem (dream sleep).

For narcolepsy type 2 (NT2) and IH you have to fall asleep on average in less than 5-10min(I can't remember the exact number). You take 4 or 5 naps depending on the results. For narcolepsy you have to enter rem during at least 2 naps. Basically, being able to fall asleep quickly after a full night's sleep every two hours isn't normal lmao.

It takes a few weeks for the results. For mine, I fell asleep in all 4 naps. I can't remember how fast but they said it met the criteria. Didn't enter rem so not enough for NT2. Although, the doc said a lot of research points to NT2 and IH being a spectrum and not really two different things. And I did have a cataplexy like attack at one point so he just says narcolepsy spectrum disorder cause it could end up being narcolepsy type 1. On paper it's just idiopathic hypersomnia. But the medications to treat it are exactly the same.

I'm currently on armodafinil and it definitely takes the edge off the sleepiness. Like instead of dozing off 3x a day at work every day, it's like once a day, every other day. I still do take long naps on the weekends or any chance I get. But my brain always feels somewhat foggy and my limbs tend to feel heavy (like a really mild sleep paralysis).

This site has a lot of information about IH and similar sleep disorders. They do a lot of advocating for research and have tons of helpful info:

https://www.hypersomniafoundation.org/ih/

I hope this helps even a little bit. Feel free to ask me anything else or message me for advice. Hope everything turns out for the best for you!

[thebreakfastgenie]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 🤍

Oh man. Oh jeez. Okay. I'm gonna get annoying about this. Just remember you invited this.

1. The Emergency Room - The West Wing

“You were supposed to leave—” he couldn’t remember when Donna had said her flight was. He remembered too much, but it was never the right things. “—already,” he finished lamely. “Well, I didn’t.” On Christmas Eve, Donna takes Josh to the emergency room. Post-Noël.

This is probably still my favorite thing I've ever written. I really feel like I achieved something with the prose here that I've been striving to do ever since. Since the whole point of this is self-promotion; this fic will probably make sense even if you haven't seen The West Wing. It takes place the same day Josh is diagnosed with PTSD, a few months after being shot. It focuses on Josh and Donna, but it's not romantic. If you ship them, it will feel like pre-relationship, if you don't it will feel like friendship. I alway catch myself thinking this fic came easily, because I pretty much tortured myself over this one but the result was so worth it. Here's a little excerpt from one of my favorite scenes:

A streetlight flickered above them. He watched through the windshield as a few wet flakes drifted down.

“We can deal with that.” Donna was solution-oriented; it was a valuable skill in an assistant. Even now, he knew, she was making plans—drafting memos, rearranging his schedule. She’d ban music from the building if she thought it would protect him. He felt a surge of appreciation—affection, even—but protection wasn’t what he needed now. “Next time it could be something else.” The implicit acknowledgment hung between them like frozen breath. There would be a next time. Donna turned up the heat. “We can deal with that too.”

It's really all about hope and getting better, but at this very early, awkward moment. It also explores, without discussing it head-on, the idea floated in the episode that Josh may have had suicidal thoughts. The conclusion this fic comes to is that he lived because he wanted to live.

2. hills like white elephants - M*A*S*H

“Margaret,” he says for a third time. “The result of this test… the one that goes in your file, the one we tell Colonel Potter… it doesn’t have to be positive. Not if you don’t want it to be.” Margaret laughs, because it’s just like him to think he can make a test say what he wants. “I think people would notice when I had a baby,” she says, trying hard to sound funny. “If you have a baby,” Hawkeye says quietly. Seriously. An AU of What's Up Doc? where Margaret is pregnant, but still doesn't want to be. Hawkeye offers her another choice.

The abortion fic! This one means a lot to me. I've had a couple people tell me they've read it more than once, and that means a lot to me in and of itself. I think we need more stories about abortion, especially ones where abortion is shown as it is: a procedure that rescues women from really difficult situations. I had a lot of fun writing this one, even if my post-Dobbs feelings were very much on my mind. I had a lot of fun writing Margaret and I feel good about how I wrote her in this one. It was nice to focus on her and her interiority. I originally envisioned the fic as a mix between Hawkeye and Margaret POV, and I almost cut the one short Hawkeye POV scene I ended up with because it was so close to being entirely Margaret. The reason I didn't is that it was very important to me to imply BJ knew what happened, but he and Hawkeye chose not to discuss it for safety. I really loved the Hawkeye-Margaret dynamic I hit in this one, too. This is my signature "if you ship them, you can read it a pre-romance, but that's not necessary" dynamic. Hawkeye's willingness to go out on a limb to help is important and I think the story is stronger for not suggesting it's motivated by romantic love. A little excerpt two little excerpts because I can't pick and they go together:

“Why are you doing this?” she blurts out.  He looks at her sideways.  “Just because we can’t do it in the hospital doesn’t mean we’re abandoning safety.”  “No,” she says, frustrated, “I mean… When I told you that I might be… you practically started knitting booties.”  He doesn’t say anything.  “You think I should have this baby,” she accuses.  “It doesn’t matter what I think,” he says softly.  “It matters to me.”  She’s even softer; she’s not sure he can hear her, but he does.  “Why?” he asks. 

and

“Maybe,” she says, but she knows she won’t. After a moment, she asks, “What would you want?” He raises his eyebrows.  “You mean besides a maternity girdle?”  She laughs, properly this time.  “I meant in Donald’s position,” she scolds.  He thinks for a moment.  “I’d want you to be happy,” he says. “That’s what I want in my position, too.”  She sighs.  “Not all men are like you.” 

I knew from the very beginning I had to get a couple Hawkeye pregnancy jokes in there. The booties line is my own little reference to the "baby booties" line in GFA. I also wrote an author's note where I wished death on a couple of Supreme Court justices.

3. the play's the thing - M*A*S*H

“Oh, yeah, in college I played Hamlet,” he brags. “No kidding.” Sidney stares at him, and he has a funny feeling he can see all of it. “I was pre-med. I was the only one who could get my hands on a skull,” he says, attempting to explain what he’s never been able to explain to himself. Hawkeye plays Hamlet and is very mentally ill about it.

This was not the first M*A*S*H fic I started, but it was the first one I finished and posted, so it's very special to me! I had a lot of fun writing this one. It kind on of turned Hamlet into my signature Shakespeare play. Hawkeye playing Hamlet being true is a near and dear headcanon to me. I knew that I wanted my Hawkeye acting story to be that he did it once and was very good at it and then never did it again. I was really worried about making actor Hawkeye different from Alan Alda and without knowing it, I succeeded at this by making Hawkeye memorize his lines without meaning to; Alan Alda was awful at learning lines (see: all the blooper reels). All the non-Hawkeye perspectives were added in fairly late in the process and I think it was absolutely worth it. Gloria also became much more significant; originally, she was just the cute girl he cited as his reason for auditioning. I really grew to love her. I loved her so much I had to give them a good ending; for all my reputation as an angstmonger, I'm a total sap. Gloria's last name, Mayer, is for my great-grandfather who worked in the ticket office on Broadway. A short excerpt:

He doesn’t say anything. He’s staring at the skull. It’ll spend one last night in the safe hiding spot he’s found for it backstage—protected from the world by the thin cloth of the bag—and in the morning he’ll slip in Searles 103B and return it. If Professor Grable has noticed it’s missing, he hasn’t said anything, and he sees him three times a week for anatomy lab. He finds himself a little sad at the thought that he won’t see it every day anymore. A man and his skull can grow very close, he thinks. 

This part is relatable to me in a way I can't quite explain. The image of college freshman Hawkeye showing up to the audition with the portion already memorized and his own skull charmed me and still does, but the skull just took on a life of its own, even for me. I didn't get too deep in the weeds researching this fic, but I did find a building at Bowdoin that was already built in the early 1940s and is currently a science building, and I used a plausible room number. I also did a quick, panicked rewrite when I remembered it wasn't co-ed yet. I just love this fic a lot.

4. Campfire - The West Wing

The fic I wrote in the woods. Huge chunks of it came to mind and I was so anxious about getting home in time to write it down, I ended up writing pieces of it in my notes app during lunch and in the car. Since I posted this, I've been really overwhelmed by the willingness of my fellow fans to put up with what I call "summer camp bullshit." It's a very different setting from the White House and it's about kids. That part of the story was intended to be shorter and darker, but these three kids basically invented themselves and said "what if Josh had friends?" and it really changed the whole tone of the story for the better. This was the second time I did this one-shot-two-narratives thing and I'd like to do it again. A small excerpt:

“You didn’t have older siblings growing up,” CJ continues. “It teaches you humility. And how to fight dirty.” His fist tightens around his beer. “I did,” he says softly. CJ looks surprised, then confused. “You did?” she asks. He nods. “But I thought… I mean, when we sent that card, after your dad— we checked with Leo, about who to address it to, and he said just your mom and you.” Josh looks at the floor. “Her name was Joanie,” he says, so he won’t have to say she died.

I've had bits jotted down for years that never saw the light of day but got at both parts of this fic. Josh talking about Joanie at summer camp and having it go badly, and CJ being the first person from the Bartlet campaign he told. I love Josh and CJ's brother-sister relationship, but I also think telling CJ first just makes the most sense because of her role in The Crackpots and These Women. This was also a September fic; one of the reasons I latched onto Josh was the experience of losing a close peer at a young age, and I certainly had feelings going into this fic. The only thing is I wish it had a better title! I couldn't think of anything better so I just went with this, but I love the titles for the other fics I've mentioned here.

5. safe travels - M*A*S*H

“Of course, this is all just speculation. I couldn’t tell you what happened in Seoul on that particular day.” BJ looks like he wants to say something, but Hawkeye beats him to it. “I never made it that far,” he admits, his voice dropping. Post-ep for 9.01 The Best of Enemies. With some encouragement, Hawkeye tells the truth about what happened after the left the 4077th.

I had a really hard time choosing a fifth fic, so I reread several, and I remembered how much I love this one. I posted the play's the thing first, but I started writing this one first, and it was almost finished for a very long time. I struggled to get it over the finish line, but I had so much fun with it! This was the first time I wrote BJ and I had a blast; since then, he's been difficult for me to write. I felt good about how I captured a bunch of different characters in this fic--BJ, Potter, Charles, and in a very brief appearance Mulcahy--and there are several pieces of dialogue I'm really, really happy with. I ended the first two sections on dialogue by chance and decided to keep it up throughout the fic. I don't think it was necessary, but it was fun to play with. When I reread it, I noticed some parallelism I don't remember consciously putting in, like both BJ and Hawkeye missing/ignoring their cues, so I'm very pleased with myself. A couple of small excerpts:

Sherman sits for a moment. It takes that long for the man’s words to sink in. “You’re serious.” “You thought I was kidding?” He’s not too old to feel the flush of shame. “I’m sorry.” “People always think I’m kidding,” Pierce shrugs it off. “Of course, most of the time, I am.”

This bit of dialogue came in early and I'm very fond of it.

“Hawk, he held a gun to your head!” BJ explodes. The thought of Hawkeye at gunpoint enrages him nearly as much as it frightens him. “What would you do if it was me?” Hawkeye asks. “If I had a chest full of shrapnel, bleeding into my brain—” “I—I’d try to make some burr holes. Get some pressure on the arteries—” “What if you weren’t a doctor?” Hawkeye presses. “What if you were… a farmer, or something, and one day the army said ‘sorry, Charlie, you’re ours now,’ and took you away from your plow and your family and your ox and gave you a gun? And the whole thing is just, completely unbearable, except for the guy standing next to you. He has has own family, and his own farm, and his own ox, or at least he did before the army took his pitchfork out of his hand and gave him a gun. And then suddenly he’s dying and all you have is this is stupid, lousy gun. What would you do?” “What if it was me? What if I had the 24 hour pass? What if someone held a gun to my head? Would you be so understanding then?”

This conversation--or rather, most of it; the Hawkeye speech came in later and was both fun and extremely hard to write--is where it all started. Hawkeye defending the man who abducted him was important to me. They formed a sort of bond by the end and I don't expect BJ or anyone else to understand that. I made a choice early on not to raise the question "what would Hawkeye do if it was BJ?" but instead "what would BJ do if it was Hawkeye?" I still alluded to the former, when Hawkeye himself wonders what he would do if it was any of his friends, but I gave more time to the latter. It just felt right; of course Hawkeye, who's been through it on the other side, has thought about it. BJ needs to be confronted with the question, and I found that more interesting. And of course it opens the door for BJ to ask how Hawkeye would feel if The Best of Enemies happened to BJ instead. I don't answer any of these questions, because that's the reader's job. If you have thoughts about these answers I'd love to hear them; I wrote this fic because I was absolutely consumed by this episode, and I still am.

[i-love-you-all]

For the shuffle music ask: Breach x Sage (or alternatively solo sage)?

Thank you for the ask! I did Breach/Sage for this one, and I think I'll do Sage solo afterwards bc she does not get a large spotlight in this one as it's mostly from Breach's POV. It's a Nurse!Sage and Criminal! Breach. My choice to make Sage a nurse instead of a doc was because of how I see her. She's more hands on, nurturing, aka more likely to be at the patient's bedside instead of coming in to check every few hours and being the one to diagnose/order tests. Viper would be a doctor in this tho!

The song I got for this one is Mika's Dr. John. The full outline is below the cut. Bold parts are the actual lyrics, everything else is me :))

These are fun, so if anyone else also wants to send in an ask, please do! (Link here to the original post I made)

I look for joy in a strange place; From the back of the bar, from afar

Scene starts in a busy bar that belongs to Breach, or rather, his family, on a friday evening. Breach, still healing from wounds is seated somewhere shady and secluded to finish up “business”. Sage comes in with a couple friends.

Breach notices right away bc her style is so different from others. Wraps up his part as soon as he can and walks over.

“Strange, I walk into your place of business yesterday, and now you come into mine. Almost like fate or destiny huh?”

Sage is ready to leave the bar, remembering that she doesn’t like this guy

Viper gets along well with Breach, he handles her bluntness well, and he’s not put off by anything she says.

But how kind he is to her friends, and by extension Sage, maybe gives her doubts? After all, no one’s an angel when they’re in pain.

He leaves her alone, and for a bit, she forgets about him until they’re about to leave when he maybe sends them home w extra food or helps them call a taxi.

I see the look on my mama's face. When her son's in the corner, undone. She says that my life is over: "Boy, you don't know what you got till it's gone. Come put your head upon my shoulder” She gave me her hand, but I ignored her.

Breach has to reconcile with the idea that his business is not safe and so there’s no point in thinking about the nurse, and that he’s heard the stories and seen firsthand what people will do to hurt someone. Their aim often strays in their attempt to ruin their target.

His mother comes by his apartment to make sure he’s eating well and that he’s not taking the pressure from his father too hard.

She shows him a picture that one of his partners (Raze) took of him and Sage and sent it to his mom.

She asks him about his happiness and if this is what he actually wants to spend the rest of his life doing.

“Haven’t you ever thought about resting? Picking up from your fears and making something nice out of them?”

His answer is no, and when she asks if he wants help, again he refuses.

Oh, Dr. John, What am I doing, what am I doing wrong? 'Cause I keep on trying. Something ain't going, something ain't going on, Dr. John

A scene where Breach is rambling to Raze about his fears about what’ll happen to them if he can’t find a way out of this target on his back. She has complete faith in him and what he can achieve. Almost to a foolish amount, she truly believes that they’ll make it out of this war alive and well.

“Can we stop talking about this? It’s pulling down my mood, man.” (Raze) “What will you do after?”

Breach has no answer because he has no plans. This is all he’s known, one war to another. The opponent always changes, and sometimes, his allies too.

I see the look on my daddy's face. When his son's fallin' over, undone. Father, my life is over. I didn't know what I had, now it's gone Can I lay my head upon your shoulder? If I fall asleep, will it be over?

Breach gets bad news about his brother. He’s stable, but it’ll be a slow recovery. Like Breach predicted, the target widens every time they learn about someone he cares about. And this takes all wind out of his sails. He just wants this fight to end, even if it ends with his death.

He doesn’t realize that well, this is the hospital where Sage works until he talks with Viper (the Dr) and recognizes her.

Sage does come in later, covering for another nurse for the day, and she sees Breach alone, last of his family to leave the hospital, with his head between his knees as he’s trying to think about his next move.

Breach wants to end this as quickly as possible.

Sage gets him a cup of coffee and they talk

They talk about how he’s in the hospital quite often, and Breach divulges that it didn’t used to be like this.

They talk about family, and that his brother was his father figure for a long time and so if he lost his brother…

She makes the leap of assumptions and implies that Breach is part of a gang or some sort of organized crime, and she asks why

Family? It’s just what was expected.

“If you could do anything in the world, what would you want to do?”

Breach has no answer.

Sage might’ve wanted to be a gardener or a botanist. Hospitals can get hectic, and she loves her meditative activities.

First establishment of a connection of some sort until she needs to move on with her shift, and he goes home.

You say I'm a big heartbreaker, but Doctor, I'd never hurt you. Isn't it obvious?

This would come in much later in the story. Maybe they’ve been dating for a month or two. It’s a private dinner in the bar that’s been closed for the day. This is when the finale of the gang/crime war happens, and Breach needs to find a way to defend himself, protect Sage, call backup, and win. At the very end of it, when Sage finally realizes just how deep into all this stuff Breach is, they have a serious conversation.

Sage is able to protect herself and hold her own in a fight (martial arts if ppl come close to try and take her hostage but obviously, Sage doesn’t feel safe.

She knows how cyclical this is. Another group will want revenge on Breach, and then the next and the next, and that’s assuming Breach doesn’t die. She’s seen it too much in the hospital. She also knows that more than just the guilty parties get caught in the crossfire.

Also, Sage doesn’t want to patch up her partner after every fight.

Breach is falling hard for her and though he knew the answer, he doesn’t want to let her go either.

He promises things like he would never let anything hurt her, and that he never meant to wound her like this.

She admits that it feels a little like heartbreak, and he can do nothing but accept that.

How would I end this? I think it would lead to Breach dealing with the aftermath and the revenge plots like Sage predicted. I think she overhears something at the hospital and goes to warn him but arrives barely in time and it’s her, Breach, and Raze fighting their way out before a large event (explosion or something similar). Breach gets hospitalized and with some strings pulled with Viper and Sage, Breach and Raze are pronounced “dead”. They get their new start, and Breach moves on to his passion project, maybe something simple at first like mechanics, maybe car detailing, and Raze can help paint cars. Something simple.