#heart attack symptoms in men

[fanciedfacts]

Why do we sadness in our heart region?

[mishkakagehishka]

I feel like the idea that sleep studies being done on women is a recent thing might not be true bc i so distinctly remember my mother telling me to not calculate how much i sleep based on the "8h rule" bc women need 9h at least. But i still wonder if the prevalence of the "7-8h of sleep" rule could be a reason for why so many women (who require 9-10h, an extra hour during menstruation) have chronic fatigue. Like how much is actual chronic issue and how much is medical misogyny. Likewise for the fact that women tend to have heart attacks more frequently, given it's known that sleep deprivation can make one more susceptible to heart issues.

[wolfvirago-m]

-- the kobayashi curse

The symptoms of the curse are all the same. Weakness, phlegm build up, weak heart and possible heart palpitations. It's hard to tell if the curse itself is truly that... a curse... or if it's just genetic heart disease passed on from mother to child (mostly daughters).

The curse has existed since the day Inu Kobayashi, the Sun Wolf, sealed the Dark One into a demon mask and passed the heirloom down the clan line. In a sense, the mask radiates a sort of nuclear-like radiation that slowly degrades the life force of those who inherit it.

At some point, a Kobayashi heiress dropped the mask in their escape from the Sun Village, letting it land and fester deep in the core of the Lost Woods. The power would then form evil yokai, which of course led to the necessity of a guardian to slay the yokai while keeping mortals out of the realm.

The holy blade passed down Robin's particular family line is the sole barrier between the curse's effects and the user.

Had Miyuki Kobayashi kept on using the blade and slaying yokai, she would have lived many years more. It was her decision to raise her children and halt her quest that led to her sickness and ultimate demise.

The Sun Wolf ritual almost always leads to a slow fermentation of the curse's return after an attempt of expelling it with holy magic. Mortal humans cannot withstand the power in daily use- hence it's ceremony occurring only at spring solstice.

Only the true heir of the Sun Wolf name can endure the power and seal the Dark One away forever.

[lologoinsolo]

Part 3, Part 4

Minds Us All Masterlist

TW: Mentions of seizures, choking to induce visions, epilepsy and schizophrenia is mentioned, I don’t think there’s more but tell me if there is

Price stands by the board, his arms crossed over his chest as he reads over the scans and the numerous notes from the doctors that Nik sent over. The doctors were as thorough as could be expected but it left more questions than answers.

—High stress and anxiety could be the root cause for her seizures or there could be a potential for something more. The Patient's mother had a history of depression but nothing to indicate anything else. Patient’s health records show that she has not been tested prior for epilepsy or schizophrenia or for being at risk of seizures.

—Paitent experienced no symptoms of those neurological disorders at her young age despite being tested as per the request of Patient’s mother. Granted, the last time the patient was seen by her primary doctor was at the age of 9 years old.

—The most recent visit, which was a year ago, the hospital reported that she left without checking herself out. Her health chart only showed a high heart rate but was, surprisingly, not at risk of a heart attack. Unfortunately there is only so much that we are able to do in the short amount of time allotted to us. In our professional opinion, we believe that she is experiencing these hallucinations under strong duress. It could explain how she claims to ‘see’ the things she claimed she did.

Your brainwaves and the brainwaves of a woman around your age with schizophrenia are placed side by side. The difference between the two scans is stark, an ocean wide difference between the two. That woman’s brainwaves are lit up while yours is relatively normal. The doctors that came to see you cannot know for certain the cause behind your ‘sight’. Stress? Anxiety? That’s where it’s all pointing to at the moment.

Logically, this could explain that your ‘sight’ is caused by a stress factor and he could agree with that if you were spouting bullshit—But, you knew. You knew about Johnny’s near death before anyone could and it very well could’ve been explained if you were a spy. Price could work the spy angle but he can’t work around the fact that you knew about Simon’s family. You knew neither of his men on a personal basis and yet Kyle heard you murmur about Sarah, Joseph, Tommy, and Beth in your sleep. Names that he knows for a fact that Simon would never, ever mention even if he was being tortured.

Price takes in a long, hard breath. Laswell digged up everything she could find on you. Only child, mother was in an out of the psyche ward, father never claimed you nor was in the picture. At age thirteen, your mother took her own life and you were thrown from foster care to foster care up until you were 18 years old. You never went to college, bounced around from job to job. Moved from place to place, constantly moving like you had a reason to. He recalls how bare your apartment was when they came, “no roots to put down.” Laswell found absolutely nothing that ties you to Makarov. Nothing save for coded words you wrote. Furthering the nail into the coffin that you’re not a spy.

His eyes move up from what he’s reading when he hears boots hitting the ground. Doesn’t take a genius to know who’s coming around. “You want to talk to her, don’t you?” Price turns to the side when the Ghost steps inside. Giving his Lieutenant a look, he wasn’t allowed back in your room when the doctors came around.

“Yes.”

“That a good idea?” Ghost’s been spending time longer on the punching bag here lately. Nearly broke it open from how hard he’s been hitting. The safehouse they’re all in allows them a gym of sorts, well… it’s not really a safehouse. This place is Price's, a house far into the country and guarded by numerous trees. A private place that he took you to in hopes of getting quick answers. And just in case you turned out to be what he assumed, there’s enough land here on his property to hide a body from prying eyes.

“Johnny wants to as well.”

Now that… that might be a better alternative. Ghost can handle himself, he’s hung from a meat hook for god sake, he knows how to keep a handle on his emotions. Ever since you made him see what you saw he’s been… off. John’s been keeping a tighter eye on him even though he’s not fully convinced in your ability. He trusts Ghost enough to tell the truth even when it doesn’t sound believable. “Give me ten minutes with her, sir.”

Ten minutes is all he needs, you’ve been awake and alone for the past two days. You willingly allowed the doctors to help you, didn’t argue with them for fear that you’d be killed most likely. Or maybe you knew that they’d find nothing.

“I’ll give you that,” Price uncrosses his arms, stepping towards Ghost and his lieutenant doesn’t move away. Stays still like a statue. “Best to let Johnny go in first before you do, yeah?”

Ghost grunts out a “yes, sir” before he turns to leave. A man on a mission in how he steps. Price needs to sit over this, think over what can be done. Laswell mentioned that you should be tested one more, three times the charm after all.

…

Kyle came in earlier to bring you food and clothes to change out of. You asked him if you would be able to leave now but he gave you no reply. Only placed the food on the table and left. You don’t know what’s worse. The fact that you’re alone and craving some kind of contact or the fact that you’re glad he nor the one called John has come back to interrogate you. You don’t think you’ll be able to handle it once more.

Your mind has been empty, to say the least. The doctors recommended medication but you know they’ll do no good. It’ll only make your curse worse and do you no favors. Sometimes this’ll happen though, sometimes your mind will get so quiet that you’ll beg for a vision. It’s a horrible cycle but it’s one you’ve always known and it’s better than the silence. On the bright side, at least that Ghost hasn’t come back. You don’t know how you’ll react if he does or what he’ll do to you.

There’s a small pinch in the back of your mind but it fizzles away almost as quickly as it came. You brace yourself for what’s bound to come.

A knock sounds on your door, an illusionment of courtesy. The knob turns and in walks a man that you’ve met twice but have seen over a hundred times over in your mind. “Hello, bonnie.” There’s a jagged pink scar on his left side, his hairs a little longer, not the mohawk you saw originally. Beard grown out and scraggly looking, he looks rougher than you remember. “Can we,” he pauses a little to step into the room and you freeze up when Ghost steps in as well. “Can we just talk?”

Ignoring him in favor of seeing him. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you immediately say to Ghost. “I’ve never done that before. I didn’t know I could do that. I’m sorry.” You still see his family's faces in your mind, can smell their blood staining the walls and on their Christmas tree. You’ve seen a lot of things but you could never stomach seeing deaths. “I’m—“

“Hey, hey,” Johnny comes your way as he speaks gently to quell your rolling anxiety. Your body flinches involuntarily from where you’re sitting on your bed by the sound of his steps. “Ye didnae ken ye could do tha’. We just want to talk.” Johnny pulls up a chair and notices the food at the table. You haven’t touched it nor the other two plates either. “Ye need tae eat, lass,” he laughs slightly, hoping to ease you, “when I was in and out of the hospital I—“

“I want to go home.” You cut him off. His hand twitches, “tell them, tell them I’m not a spy or a soldier or—“

“And where would you go home to, little bird?” Ghost’s arms are crossed over his chest. He stands besides Johnny, “got a place to go home to that we haven’t figured out yet?” Johnny turns to give Ghost a look but he ignores it in favor of continuing on. “Your visions tell you where to live now?”

“I’m sorry that you saw what you did. That wasn’t my intention, it’s never my intention. I can—“

“I didn’t ask for an apology.” He growls out, your knees tuck to your chest immediately. “How did you see them? Tell me.”

“Ghost,” Johnny tries to intervene in some way but it’s no use.

“I don’t know, I don’t know.” Your voice growing insistent, begging for him to understand. “It’s— it just happens. I-I can’t help it.”

“Can’t help it.” Ghost mutters under his breath. The muscles in his back are tense, pulled taunt. You’re like a fluttering bird in a cage from how you squawk the same thing over and over again.

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop. Apologizing.” He takes a step towards you and you scoot back further up the bed, practically pressing yourself into the corner. Johnny stands and places a hand on Ghost’s shoulder. The anger simmers only a little but the tension still stays. Ghost’s hands ball and flex, “can you do it again?” He asks, more like demands.

There’s a hush pause that overtakes the room, even Johnny looks to you for an answer. “I…” you swallow thickly, shaking your head slightly. “I might?”

“Might?” He doesn’t sound pleased with how unsure you sound.

“It’s uh…” you never knew how to explain it, your mother could never explain it herself either. “When…” you take a breath, “when you look into a kaleidoscope do you see the same thing if you move it around?” Johnny shakes his head no but Ghost does nothing, “that’s… that’s kinda how it’s like for me. Sometimes it’s clear enough that I can see it many times,” flickering to Johnny, his moments haunted you for the longest after all. “I don’t know if I can see yours again, Ghost.” His was more than just his memory, it showed a pocket of time before he even saw it. “I’m,” you almost say sorry again but you bite your lip.

“Price said ye started seeing mine after we met,” one accidental touch that led you here. Your visions never hanged around long, it’s why you came to the practice of writing them down. Your curse, for some reason, latched onto Johnny’s future and never let it go. “Saw it for about a year, did ye ken ye’d find me? Is that why ye came up to me?”

You cross your legs, feeling just a smidge at ease while you pick away at your fingers. “I couldn’t have day to myself without seeing you.” You look down to the shorts you're wearing, missing the look that settles in Johnny’s eyes. “There would be this static feeling in my head the closer I thought I got to you.” He was like a flame and you a moth, only the static got louder and louder the closer you were next to him that day. Maybe you weren’t supposed to find him…

“I’m sorry, hen.” You shake your head but he slowly steps closer to the bed. His knees bumbing the edge of the mattress. “I wouldnae be alive without ye. I heard yer voice in my head when I was on that mission. Heard ye screamin’ for me to pull back and I did.” He’s calm in his approach as he takes a seat now. Scared you’ll try to bolt off the bed if he moves too quickly. “Fucker still got me.” He points to his head, the scar telling a story of an almost death. You prevented that. “Shoulda seen me in recove—“

“Let me go home— please.” He sighs at your attempt to leave once more. “I won’t say anything, I won’t talk about this to anyone—“ your muscles seize when Ghost comes closer, his steps heavy against the floor. There’s no way to leave, you know their names save for Ghost. You’re hanging by a thread that can be snipped at any movement. “Please.” You can’t run or they’ll give chase but even then, there’s only so much space left in here. Boxed completely in with one sitting on the bed and one that could easily tackle you.

“I want ye to try,” Johnny sits closer to you now, the bed groaning under joined weights. “See somethin’ again, show me somethin’, hen.” His hands start moving for you now. “Can ye do that for me?”

“I-I don’t know if I can. I don’t,” you bite your bottom lip when his hands wrap around your wrists. His fingers wrapping firmly around them but still enough room that you could twist if you wanted to. “Please, stop. I don’t know if I can make it happen.” There’s the smallest of a buzz in the back of your head. “I’ve never been able to—“

“Try,” is all he says as he pulls you forward enough that you have to sit on your knees. Your trembling, fingers shaking as he maneuvers your hands to cup his face. You can’t pull away even when you try to do so. His blue eyes search yours, his scar damn near pulsing under your cold hands. “Just try, lass.”

Wobbly and unsteady like a newborn doe, your knees are weak as you close your eyes. Brows pinching tight lines in forceful concentration. Your curse only works when it wants to, never for you. The time spent goes to show that it’s not working the way they want it to, “I can’t,” you say once more. “It’s not working.” Hoping they’ll understand, you’ve never been able to just make it happen.

“Maybe you need some motivation,” Ghost doesn’t give you a chance to turn as he lands a solid hand on the back of your neck. The air you had in your lungs punches out, “just need some fear to get it rolling.” The last two times was through fear and if he needs to choke you out then he will.

“S-Stop—“

“I’ll start squeezing,” he warns, his thumb digging in, “won’t take much to make you pop.” He’s cruel in his laughter, Johnny says nothing as his grip stays steady even when you try to tug. “I’ve broken necks easily, just needs,” Ghost’s thumb presses deeper over your raging pulse, “enough force and it’ll crack.”

“Please!” Chest heaving now, anxiety shoots through the roof as your eyes are wet and frantic. You can’t move back, can’t move forward, can’t even swing to the side to get away. You try once more to make it work but, “it’s not wor—“ gasping suddenly. The walls of your throat tightens from his fingers coiling around it like a vice grip. A sharp static jolts to life, his hand squeezes more, air begins being cut off from you.

Your vision starts building up faster, almost painfully now as your grip onto Johnny’s head tightens. An itching, scratching noise burrows in the back of your head. There’s a screeching, halting sound, like nails that claw down a chalkboard but stops before finishing. It echos in Johnny’s ear that he winces at the same time you do. Your vision blurs whether because of the loss of air or because your curse is letting you see once more.

Laughter. Kids, 4. 1 boy. 3 girls. Blue eyes. Backyard. Swing set, swinging. Laughter.

Johnny inhales a breath, he sees the blurred moments alongside you begin to form. Like a projector being cranked to make an old timey movie start. It’s slow but starts to pick up in pace, pushing through the memory faster and faster. Barreling down the spirals of a pocket of time.

You can see a young Johnny playing with his sisters. It’s a warm sunny day, the heat beating down on them and you. He’s swinging and his mother is yelling at him to get off to come eat some snacks. He swings as high as he can before jumping right off. His sisters scream when he lands hard, blood on his mouth and he pulls a tooth out. There’s laughter from him, he’s laughing. His sister, his oldest sister is—

You struggle for air, lungs painfully begging for something to breathe in. You're pulled out, shoved forcefully away from the memory. Figures form in the shadows as your eyes look wildly around. “Good,” you hear Johnny say but it’s distant, far away from you. Miles away. Your forehead is heavy against his shoulder, you don’t know when you did that. Did you do that? Must’ve done so as your mind started twisting into knots, for once you don’t convulse like you typically do but something is wrong. Really wrong.

Ghost let go of your throat the second you started gasping for air. Only seconds for him but to you? You saw 30 minutes of Johnny’s memory. “Well?” He peers down at the both of you, “report, Johnny.”

Johnny tugs you easily into his lap, your body limp against him. “I saw it, Ghost. Saw it like I was there.” They speak now as if you’re not there. Are you here? Where are you right now? Your head tucked under his chin as your heart beats fast while you feel like your realities are blurring and blending together. “We cannae let her leave.”

“Never planned to, Sergeant.” A voice that’s not Ghost’s sounds from behind the two. Price leans against the door frame, he knew they were up to something. Just had to let it happen.

The shadows dance around in your mind, the kaleidoscopes of moments and memories of your own past starts to mash together. The webs are all sticking and rolling into a ball. You feel like you're floating and crashing at the same time. It’s becoming harder and harder to pull away from it. Harder to separate what’s real and what isn’t. Johnny holds tighter to you when you begin shaking. Head hitting against his chest as—

“We need to sedate her.”

— the static buzzing noise sharpens louder and louder. Your fingers spasm and hands thrash around, writing out words in the air. Make it stop, make it stop.—

“Not yet,” Price comes forward with a pen and paper, “she’s seeing something.” Ghost watches in cold curiosity, his eyes squinting under his mask as Price sticks a pen into your thrashing hand. He balls his over your right hand and holds the paper in his left. You jerk it around, scribbling jagged lines till words start forming.

Stop. Stop. Make it. Stop. Let go me. Let. Hand, Let.

“Tell me where Makarov is.” He whispers into your ear. “Where is Vladimir Makarov?” Your eyes roll back into your head as your legs kick out. The lower half of your body flails about while your upper is held tightly. “Write it down.” His voice echos in your head, becoming like an arrow as it breaks through the maze. Zeros you in like a beacon to follow and you fall deeper into the spirals of your vision.

Make it. Make off. Her. Her in. Rus. Northern. Lights north. Rush, make her off. Old. Building. Under, under. Guarded. Old, guarded. Weapons.

You fill the page with words you see that pile in your head. Picture like moments pour into your mind’s eye of a man you’ve never seen. It’s only half a second intervals, like someone’s slowed down the internet speed to the lowest setting possible.

Man. Man, 1. Talk, yells. Rush in. Rush. Hidden. Under. Ground under. Men. Loyal. Men. Men. Men. Cold, snow. New Clear. Nu. Er. Er, boots. Boots. Boots. Blinding Lighstj thaoies gbauqot—

Price pulls the paper away once your words start becoming unreadable. “Good enough,” he gives no sedation this time. You’ve never needed it before, “let her rest, Soap.” He allows you that as your left on your side. Soap reluctantly stands up as you're left to tremble, you’ll pull out on your own time. He reads over what was written and a location comes to mind. “I’ve a feeling I know where our Russian is.”

[rainydaydreamsideblog]

(X-Men) Logan Howlett x Reader: The Injury 2

You can't help but notice Logan is always looking out for you, and you wonder if it's because he thinks you're incapable. Little did you know there's another reason entirely.

Word Count: 2,236

Warnings: Typical X-Men Violence, Blood

Link to Part 1

Hands gripping the back of the jet seats, you exhaled loudly in a near grunt.

This was always the worst part.  Waiting.  Just standing there and waiting for something terrible to happen so that you could do something about it.

It’s not like you weren’t trained in combat.  You could handle yourself, at least.  But the fact of the matter was that your particular abilities weren’t geared for offensive attacks like the rest.  As Professor Xavier told you, you gave the team quite the strategic advantage when utilized at the right moment.

In other words, it would be no good to the others if you were the one who was injured.  

Fair enough.

But the waiting…

When the static came through in your earpiece, you straightened up.  Hopefully, it would be news of a successful mission and that the team was on their way back to the ship.

You weren’t so lucky this time.

“I’ve been injured,” Storm’s voice spoke weakly.

“Storm, are you alright?” you asked.  No response.

The realization tore through you like a jolt of lightning.  “I’m on my way.” Heart pounding, you exited the jet and checked that the coast was clear. When you reached the site, it took you a moment to evaluate the situation.  Fists were locked in combat.  It was mutant powers galore. Metal frames were flying.  You jumped when someone let a construction crane drop, causing the ground beneath you to quake.

A glimpse of white caught your attention.  You backtracked in your initial scan of the scene to see Storm lying beside a chunk of busted concrete. Her head was angled awkwardly with her face turned away from you.

Your muscles coiled as you prepared to dart into the fray of things.

Scott’s voice suddenly came through. “You need to wait.” He was in the midst of the fight, gloved fingers resting on the side of his visor, ready to activate it.  “Things are too chaotic at the moment.  You’re at risk.”

“It looks bad,” you replied immediately.  “I need to help her now.”  You sprung into action, dodging a worn, yellow hunk of what looked to be plating from another construction vehicle that was launched at you. There was no time to trace the path of that shattered piece and see where it came from.

But what you did happen to see in your race to Storm’s aid was a tall form standing slightly hunched in an attack stance, muscular arms tensed, with metallic claws out and glinting in the construction lights. Logan’s dark eyes were glaring furiously past you at presumably whoever had chucked that object in your direction, the bridge of his nose crinkling in a snarl. His chest rose and fell heavily with a growl.

It was a sight that lasted only a mere second as you ran past. Storm had your full attention as you knelt down beside her unconscious form. You removed your gloves and carefully turned her head to face you, revealing a gash of glistening red.

“Storm?” you murmured.  No response.

You gently rested a hand on either side of her head, closing your eyes and concentrating on your abilities.  A familiar ache started in the tips of your fingers and moved up your arms. Then came a splitting headache. 

Oh, her injuries were bad.  

The pain in your head made you groan aloud, but it was beyond worth it to see the gash had disappeared from hers, leaving only a streak of blood behind in her halo white hair.  There was no way of knowing exactly when the symptoms would fade. In the meantime, you were a sitting duck in the middle of the battlefield with your limbs weak and head in agony.

A gloved hand grasped your arm comfortingly, and you opened your eyes once more to see Storm with concern in her deep gaze. She helped you to your feet, her eyes flickering to the nearest safe place for you to hang tight while you recovered. You stumbled over to the edge of the site, hand grasping desperately at a metal frame to hold onto.

Logan was engaged in heated hand-to-hand with another opponent. Everything around him appeared a mere blur in your eyes, with the heavy duty lights casting a dusty haze over the site-turned-battlefield. Other figures of your teammates moved, but all you saw was Logan taking another swipe at his foe.

You must have not been in your right mind due to the recovery because all you could think about was him. Your eyes traveled the length of his strong arms instead of scanning for any encroaching danger to your hiding spot. It took you back to one of your last missions, when he put his arm around you, forcing you to the ground with him, to ensure you avoided a blast heading your way.

The sound of his close breathing.  The rise and fall of his chest against your back. The immediate question spoken in a deep, gentle voice, “you okay?” right next to your ear.  Not to mention the effortless way he set you back on your feet.

You steadied yourself, relieved that you were gaining your bearings. It was much easier to focus on the here and now with your mind cleared of the reverie.  The enemy was in retreat, and the battle turned into a scramble to snatch up just one of them so they could be interrogated for information on their leader’s HQ.

There was one dragging himself along the ground, bleeding heavily from his left leg.

It was hard not to pity him, especially when you saw one of his teammates just up and leave him without remorse. He was coughing and sputtering, spraying the ground with blood droplets.

“He’s too wounded to speak now,” Jean announced, kneeling beside him.  “He needs immediate care.”

“Let me,” you breathed, doing your very best to walk over without a stumble.

Logan immediately stepped in front of you, his large hand coming up to take hold of your outstretched one before it could make contact, resting his other hand on your shoulder in an attempt to stop you. It didn’t take much. You were still rather weak.  

“Absolutely not.”

As much as your body wanted to cave to his touch, your mind addled from pain, you were determined as ever. And his tone left much to be desired.

“Oh, excuse me, Dad,” you snipped, meeting his gaze to show you were still no less serious. “This is why I’m here.”

“You’re here to help the X-Men,” he pointed out, staring deeply into your eyes insistently. 

“I am helping the X-Men…by helping him. We won’t get anywhere with leads if he succumbs to his wounds on the way back.”

“This is the guy who just tried to off you about ten minutes ago.”

When you weren’t deterred by his addition, Logan scoffed, his hand remaining on your shoulder. Storm stepped in to offer up a less antagonistic word of caution to you.

“Are you sure?” she asked. “You still appear drained.”

Your tone matched hers, losing its edge because of her more amiable demeanor as opposed to the grouchy Wolverine’s. “Yes, I’m fine.  I am back to normal already.  Let me do this for the team. Please, I can’t stand watching him suffer anymore.”

All eyes were on Logan.

He released you, holding his hands up in a begrudging surrender to your wishes. You weren’t back to normal. Not really. Everyone knew it. Of course you still felt like you’d been hit by a garbage truck when you let your hand fall to the man’s neck to make contact. The ache in your limbs turned to fire, and your head was pounding again.

Ugh, it sucked. 0/10, not a good time.

You stumbled back, falling right down on your bottom in the dirt, and clutched your head.

At some point, you must’ve blacked out because you awoke aboard the X-Jet, strapped into your seat. All was quiet, save for the hum as it travelled at high speeds. Through the haze of waking from a short rest, the events already felt distant, like a dream. Unreal.

The lingering effects of your abilities had ceased, fortunately. Each breath you took was free from the splitting pain.

“Oh, look who’s up,” Logan grumbled.

“What happened?”

If looks could kill. “What do you think?”

“Okay, okay. Too much at once. I’ll try to avoid that next time,” you said, heaving a sigh. Trying to act nonchalant, you stretched a bit in your seat. “Are we almost back to the Mansion?”

“We’ve just arrived,” Cyclops replied, flipping a few switches that presumably activated the landing sequence. “When we get in, you’re going straight to the medical wing.”

“Yes, Sir.” You gave a little salute.

Logan practically escorted you the entire way, and for good measure he waited around while you got checked out. Fortunately, everything seemed to be fine at that point. As soon as you were deemed fit to leave the medical wing, Logan visibly relaxed.

It hadn’t escaped you that he only got that way when it came to your safety. Generally, he was a rather easy-going guy. Ask anyone on the team, and they’d agree that he wasn’t one to get involved in anyone’s business or make demands. He was very much a live and let live man when it came to others… Except when someone was at risk. And as of late, it seemed you were the focal point of his concerns in particular.

Naturally, you explored a series of reasons why that could be. One idea that stood out to you especially was that perhaps Wolverine’s incessant need to defend you on the battlefield stemmed from the way your abilities worked. Perhaps this made you seem quite vulnerable to him as someone fighting alongside a team of very powerful individuals that utilized their abilities during combat, rather than in the aftermath.

It hardly seemed fair. Your abilities may differ from the others, but you were quite capable of looking after yourself when it came to a fight. You knew your limits. You trained well with the rest of the team. His level of concern just didn’t seem to add up. It was a bit insulting.

“I’m not sure what I’ve done to warrant a babysitter,” you commented finally as the two of you departed from the medical wing. You walked side-by-side at a rather hurried pace. “I have only ever done my part. And I’ve done it well, if I do say so myself.”

“A little too well,” he grumbled, glancing in the other direction.

“What’s that supposed to mean? I’m confused. Do you, or do you not, think I can handle myself on missions?”

“I know you can handle missions,” he snapped, then took a breath and lowered his voice, finally halting to turn and meet your gaze sincerely. “I know that. That’s not the issue here.”

You realized that you must have subconsciously taken a step closer because suddenly you were captivated by his dark eyes and trying very hard not to let your gaze flicker to his lips. “Then why do you act like I can’t?”

“Can’t you just accept that I care about ya’?”

That and the fact that he was now inches away from your face was enough to short-circuit your brain. You were frozen in place, unable to form a coherent thought other than how you were lost in space, and the only thing grounding you was the texture of his hair, the way his brows furrowed beautifully over his eyes, and his lips which were still parted after his confession.

“Hey, I- oh.” Scott had just turned the corner and found you, clearing his throat. “I was just on my way to check on you.”

Logan looked the other way, and you took a few steps to put some distance between the two of you.

“I’m alright. I was cleared to head out,” you told him.

“Good. I’m glad.” He gave a slow nod. “I hate to do this, but our lead says he won’t talk unless you’re there. It seems he trusts you after you helped him. I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind…”

“No, I don’t mind,” you replied, though the prospect of being present for the questioning was puzzling. Was it truly just a matter of trust? Or did the lead have something more sinister in mind? Security levels made the situation beyond safe. You knew that. But still, you couldn’t shake the uneasiness that suddenly gripped you.

Glancing back at Logan, you said softly, “this discussion will have to wait.”

“I guess so,” he agreed. As you started to follow Scott down the hall, Logan called your name. You looked over your shoulder to see him giving you a knowing look, as if he had read your mind. “Mind if I come along?”

You nodded. “Sure. Scott?”

“We could use you if there’s a need for a “bad 'cop' during the interview,” Scott added. “It would probably be best if you’re there. Just in case.”

You breathed a quiet sigh of relief that only you and apparently Logan heard. He walked by your side, though neither of you uttered a word about it. Ten minutes ago you might’ve rolled your eyes at the idea of him accompanying you to this interview… But now, you were beyond glad he was.

[ns-imagines]

Nikto никто

Nikto Character Introduction

If you find yourself drooling over possessive and obsessive!Ghost or König lemme introduce you to Nikto…

SFW [ all cannon information ]

Word Count: TBA its a lot

Warnings: Disorder mention; Torture mention; dissociative disorder mentioned;

A/N: Lemme talk to you for a moment…

My new masked crush. Heart and coochie go brrrrrrrrrrrrr

Post has not been checked for grammar corrections / Not requested :D

Cannon Information:

Nikto (Neeek-toe) is a Operator in Spetsnaz for the Allegiance faction which is within the KorTac Organization. Basically hes a contractor for the contractors. Its cannon that he has facial scarring which is why he wears a mask. Not a turn off for me ah ha ha

So he isn’t necessarily a good guy like the 141 guys (even though now they’re considered war criminals I suppose) but he’s also not a bad guy. In summary, man does what he gets hired to do.

Anyways, after going AWOL in October 2022 from the Russian contracting military group he resurfaced in June 2023 (also the introduction of his character in the game). He resurfaced being the leader of a military group which was overtaking the Dutch city of Vondel.

On the Official Wiki he is only given two paragraphs of biography. You can read it here -> https://callofduty.fandom.com/wiki/Nikto

Also mentioned on the page [ for the COD Mobile universe ] is that theres cannon beef between Ghost and Nikto!! Yes, you heard me right. So on the wiki it is mentioned that Nikto was working for a guy named Templar. Whom is betrayed and killed by Ghost. Then when Ghost went after everyone else in the helicopter he shot Nikto. It was thought that Nikto died from the shot but he didnt….

Nikto reappears when he takes a group of people hostage and records a video explaining that the world has failed them and has left people like (Nikto) to beg and then fight over the scraps. Price (yes Price) tries to convince Nikto to let the hostages go and to basically chill out but Nikto wins by blowing up the building. With the hostages inside.

Okay maybe he has beef with all of 141… and is kinda a bad guy I can change him

SO then time passes and Nikto reappears again seeking a gun deal with a dude named Gunzo. Gunzo asks Nikto “why a man wanted on every continent, doesnt have guns” this pisses Nikto off. Nikto replies with “i dont need guns” then proceeds to buy the guns from Gunzo. Then Nikto gasses the fuck out of Gunzo and his men with Nova Gas. Nikto explains to Gunzo that the world is failing blah blah. He then goes on to brag about how he doesnt need a gas mask to breath like everyone else because hes that edgy and then he just executes Gunzo. We can fix him

Nikto disappears again only to reappear flying a F-85B Bullshark and leading a military riot. He then orders a attack on Prices convoy (video below) and basically down their helicopter. In the video below you can see small arms fire, an RPG, and then a finishing shot. Which was shot by Nikto’s aircraft. Okay maybe he is bad, we can fix him ?

Which you can watch here -> https://youtu.be/dDaCTCu82t0

In game bio from MW, CODM, and MW2

It is referenced in his bio MW and CODM that he has acute dissociative disorder. Which according to WebMD

“Dissociative disorders involve problems with memory, identity, emotion, perception, behavior and sense of self. Dissociative symptoms can potentially disrupt every area of mental functioning. Dissociation is a disconnection between a person’s thoughts, memories, feelings, actions or sense of who he or she is.”

Which is explained to be from when he was tortured by Mr. Z. That event is also where he got his facial scarring from. Although he is Russian; in current MW2 timeline his nationality and language is [ REDACTED ]. I was looking around on the internet for why and Reddit believes its due to current world current events/tension. Rewording to: we can accept and love him. I dont think we can fix him.

I don’t expect this post to get a lot of attention but for those who like it my requests are fully open ❤️

i will definitely be posting more Nikto content and what I think Nikto looks like and how he acts.

Thank you for reading! -Kiv

[macgyvermedical]

The Difference Between Heart Attack, Heart Failure, and Cardiac Arrest

I think fiction has done us a huge disservice when they conflate the above, but even my nursing students were kind of on the edge of not understanding this, so we're gonna talk about it here.

Heart Attack: A blockage in the coronary arteries

A heart attack, also called a myocardial infarction, is when one of the arteries that supplies the actual muscle of the heart gets blocked by a blood clot. When this happens, the muscle the artery was supplying starts to die. The more muscle impacted, or the longer the heart attack goes untreated, the worse the outcome for the patient.

Symptoms of this are different between men and women:

Treatment for a heart attack usually involves inserting a small tube into the wrist or groin, snaking it up to the blocked artery, and stenting open the blockage, thus returning blood flow to the heart muscle.

Heart Failure: A problem with the heart's ability to pump

Heart failure occurs when the heart is not beating hart enough or well enough to adequately get blood out to the body. This can occur for several reasons. It can be because of damage from a heart attack, because a valve in the heart isn't working right, from poorly functioning electrical system, or from long term exposure to untreated high blood pressure.

The symptoms of heart failure come both from blood collecting "in front" of the heart waiting to get pumped (swelling, shortness of breath, weight gain), and not enough blood getting pumped out to the body (dizziness, fatigue).

Heart failure is treated with medications that make the heart beat more normally and get rid of excess fluid to take workload off the heart. It can also be treated with surgery if the problem is with a valve, or with a pacemaker if the heart is beating too slowly.

Cardiac Arrest: A problem with the heart's electrical system

The heart beats in a synchronized way because it is made of muscle cells that are responsive to electricity. Special cells called pacemaker cells generate small electrical currents, which wash over the heart. When the cells are stimulated with that current, they contract, creating a beat.

Cardiac arrest occurs when that normally organized current becomes disorganized, and lots of cells, not just the pacemaker cells, start making their own currents. This can happen because of a lack of oxygen, too much or too little of particular electrolytes like potassium, an electrical shock, or damage to the muscle from a heart attack.

See below for a comparison between the normal electrical activity of the heart (top) and the disorganized rhythm of ventricular fibrillation:

When the electrical rhythm is disorganized, the heart isn't beating, just quivering, and no blood gets out to the body. This is treated with CPR to keep some blood flowing to vital organs, medications that can stabilize the heart's electrical system, and defibrillation. Defibrillation works by stopping the heart with an overwhelming amount of electricity and letting it restart (hopefully) in a normal rhythm.

If someone has no electrical activity in their heart (known as asystole), defibrillation won't work, but sometimes medication will.

[amica-aenigmata-naboo]

Libidinosa

Matthew de Clermont x Y/N - drabble - 583 WC NSFW 18+

Masterlist

Warnings: SMUT, female reader, sex pollen kinda fic, consent, romance, sweet Matthew

---------------------------

You writhed on the bed, tears pricking the corner of your eyes. You pulled at your clothes, feeling so hot you were sure you saw steam rising from your skin. 

“What is happening?” Matthew asked, demanding answers.

“It’s a curse… there’s no medical explanation for their symptoms otherwise…” Marcus stated, holding your wrist to feel your erratic pulse. 

Matthew couldn’t bear to watch you in pain, he placed a gentle hand on your chest, feeling your heart himself. You moaned at the contact, arching your back and shutting your eyes. You whimpered the second he pulled away, “No!” you spat before pulling his hand back to you. You felt his hand ghost over your chest and down your torso. Everything in you felt like it was on vibrate.

“I think… I think it's a lust curse…” Marcus said, slight confusion on his face as he watched how you reacted to Matthew.

“Libidinosa?” Matthe asked, “Nobody has used that curse in ages. Last I recall it was the witch trials. Used to lure men in so witches could harvest life power…” he said.

Marcus shrugged, “There is only one way to make it go away…” Marcus said, slowly walking backwards out of the room.

“You can’t be serious…” Matthew replied, looking to Marcus before you slid his hand between your thighs.

“As a heart attack. I’m gonna go take a walk…” Marcus said, shutting the bedroom door.

Matthew looked down at you with pity, “Unfortunately mon coeur he is right…” yet he didn’t move his hand, waiting for your consent.

“I… got myself… into this mess… help me out… please…” you begged him; you cursed yourself for trying a spell from a ripped page, not knowing it would lead to this. 

“Are you sure?” he said hesitantly.

“Yes!” you squealed, trying to rub yourself through your clothes. 

Matthew unbuttoned his shirt as he walked over to you, discarding it on the floor. As soon as he climbed on top of you he felt the heat radiating from you. Your skin was on fire as he touched you, your body lurching at the contact.

“Should I just get straight to it?” he asked, not entirely sure what you needed.

You ripped your underwear off, lifting your skirt up. “Now!” you whined. 

Matthew kissed right above your clit, teasing you before he dove in. He devoured you like a man starved, licking and sucking furiously. Your body shook as he held your hips down, your back arching off the bed. He slid his fingers into your greedy, dripping cunt. Pumping them in and out slowly before picking up speed. You could feel yourself starting to topple over; clutching his hair and pushing his face into you. Your eyes rolled back as you came hard on his face. He didn’t let a single drop of your essence go to waste, kissing over your inner thighs as you started to relax. You weakly reached out for him. 

“Thank you…” you said sleepily, feeling the spell fade away from you. 

Matthew pulled your skirt down, helping you adjust so you could sleep. “My pleasure,” he smiled cheekily. “You should sleep. It’ll help after all you’ve been through today.” 

You nodded, not putting up a fight. You did, however, pull him down with you. You snuggled into his chest appreciating his soft skin while you traced over his various scars. You both found it therapeutic. 

“Goodnight, mon coeur.” he said, kissing the top of your head. 

“Je t’aime.” you mumbled.

------------------------------

Naboo's Note:

Hello all! Super short fic, hope that's ok! Feeling pretty exhausted this week. Will try to write more fics next week. Thank you for all the support and patience, I recently hit 900 followers and it legit wanted to cry. 'm so thankful for everyone who reads my stuff. XOXOXOXOXOX!!!!!!!!!!

[renee-writer]

An ER nurse says this is the best description of a woman having a heart attack that she has ever heard. Please read, pay attention, and SHARE..........

FEMALE HEART ATTACKS

I was aware that female heart attacks are different, but this is the best description I've ever read.

Women rarely have the same dramatic symptoms that men have ... you know, the sudden stabbing pain in the chest, the cold sweat, grabbing the chest & dropping to the floor that we see in movies. Here is the story of one woman's experience with a heart attack.

I had a heart attack at about 10:30 PM with NO prior exertion, NO prior emotional trauma that one would suspect might have brought it on. I was sitting all snugly & warm on a cold evening, with my purring cat in my lap, reading an interesting story my friend had sent me, and actually thinking, 'A-A-h, this is the life, all cozy and warm in my soft, cushy Lazy Boy with my feet propped up.

A moment later, I felt that awful sensation of indigestion, when you've been in a hurry and grabbed a bite of sandwich and washed it down with a dash of water, and that hurried bite seems to feel like you've swallowed a golf ball going down the esophagus in slow motion and it is most uncomfortable. You realize you shouldn't have gulped it down so fast and needed to chew it more thoroughly and this time drink a glass of water to hasten its progress down to the stomach. This was my initial sensation--the only trouble was that I hadn't taken a bite of anything since about 5:00 p.m.

After it seemed to subside, the next sensation was like little squeezing motions that seemed to be racing up my SPINE (hind-sight, it was probably my aorta spasms), gaining speed as they continued racing up and under my sternum (breast bone, where one presses rhythmically when administering CPR).

This fascinating process continued on into my throat and branched out into both jaws. 'AHA!! NOW I stopped puzzling about what was happening -- we all have read and/or heard about pain in the jaws being one of the signals of an MI happening, haven't we? I said aloud to myself and the cat, Dear God, I think I'm having a heart attack!

I lowered the foot rest dumping the cat from my lap, started to take a step and fell on the floor instead. I thought to myself, If this is a heart attack, I shouldn't be walking into the next room where the phone is or anywhere else... but, on the other hand, if I don't, nobody will know that I need help, and if I wait any longer I may not be able to get up in a moment.

I pulled myself up with the arms of the chair, walked slowly into the next room and dialed the Paramedics... I told her I thought I was having a heart attack due to the pressure building under the sternum and radiating into my jaws. I didn't feel hysterical or afraid, just stating the facts. She said she was sending the Paramedics over immediately, asked if the front door was near to me, and if so, to un-bolt the door and then lie down on the floor where they could see me when they came in.

I unlocked the door and then laid down on the floor as instructed and lost consciousness, as I don't remember the medics coming in, their examination, lifting me onto a gurney or getting me into their ambulance, or hearing the call they made to St. Jude ER on the way, but I did briefly awaken when we arrived and saw that the radiologist was already there in his surgical blues and cap, helping the medics pull my stretcher out of the ambulance. He was bending over me asking questions (probably something like 'Have you taken any medications?') but I couldn't make my mind interpret what he was saying, or form an answer, and nodded off again, not waking up until the Cardiologist and partner had already threaded the teeny angiogram balloon up my femoral artery into the aorta and into my heart where they installed 2 side by side stints to hold open my right coronary artery.

I know it sounds like all my thinking and actions at home must have taken at least 20-30 minutes before calling the paramedics, but actually it took perhaps 4-5 minutes before the call, and both the fire station and St Jude are only minutes away from my home, and my Cardiologist was already to go to the OR in his scrubs and get going on restarting my heart (which had stopped somewhere between my arrival and the procedure) and installing the stents.

Why have I written all of this to you with so much detail? Because I want all of you who are so important in my life to know what I learned first hand.

1. Be aware that something very different is happening in your body, not the usual men's symptoms but inexplicable things happening (until my sternum and jaws got into the act). It is said that many more women than men die of their first (and last) MI because they didn't know they were having one and commonly mistake it as indigestion, take some Maalox or other anti-heartburn preparation and go to bed, hoping they'll feel better in the morning when they wake up... which doesn't happen. My female friends, your symptoms might not be exactly like mine, so I advise you to call the Paramedics if ANYTHING is unpleasantly happening that you've not felt before. It is better to have a 'false alarm' visitation than to risk your life guessing what it might be!

2. Note that I said 'Call the Paramedics.' And if you can take an aspirin. Ladies, TIME IS OF THE ESSENCE!

Do NOT try to drive yourself to the ER - you are a hazard to others on the road.

Do NOT have your panicked husband who will be speeding and looking anxiously at what's happening with you instead of the road.

Do NOT call your doctor -- he doesn't know where you live and if it's at night you won't reach him anyway, and if it's daytime, his assistants (or answering service) will tell you to call the Paramedics. He doesn't carry the equipment in his car that you need to be saved! The Paramedics do, principally OXYGEN that you need ASAP. Your Dr. will be notified later.

3. Don't assume it couldn't be a heart attack because you have a normal cholesterol count. Research has discovered that a cholesterol elevated reading is rarely the cause of an MI (unless it's unbelievably high and/or accompanied by high blood pressure). MIs are usually caused by long-term stress and inflammation in the body, which dumps all sorts of deadly hormones into your system to sludge things up in there. Pain in the jaw can wake you from a sound sleep. Let's be careful and be aware. The more we know the better chance we could survive.

A cardiologist says if everyone who sees this post would Share or re-post, you can be sure that we'll save at least one life.

*Please be a true friend and SHARE this article to all your friends, women & men too. Most men have female loved ones and could greatly benefit from know this information too! Credit goes to respective owner.

(¯`•.•´¯)¸•´¯`☆ follow us🫴 Inspirations kindness viral `•.¸¸.•´••

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Hello! Currently im working on my story and I need to write my character Fainting/falling unconscious and I need help with writing that. General things I would like to know is how long would someone be out cold in which situations and what are some aftermaths. You can (and please do) add extra info. I dont see alot of posts covering this topic so I would request this :>

Hi! I have these previous posts: On Fainting ⚜ Some Reactions

Some Additional Notes

Faintness

‘Light- headedness’.

Seen in anaemia, low BP, postural hypotension, hypoglycaemia, carotid sinus hypersensitivity, epilepsy

Syncope

This is sudden loss of consciousness over seconds.

Another word for fainting or passing out.

Think of abnormal ‘electrical’ activity in the central nervous system or a temporary drop in cardiac output and BP that improves as soon as the patient is in a prone position.

Fits can occur due to a profound fall in BP so they are not specific of epilepsy.

Someone is considered to have syncope if they become unconscious and go limp, then soon recover.

For most people, syncope occurs once in a great while, if ever, and is not a sign of serious illness.

However in others, syncope can be the first and only warning sign prior to an episode of sudden cardiac death.

Syncope can also lead to serious injury.

Talk to your physician if syncope happens more often.

Pre-syncope - is the feeling that you are about to faint.

Someone with pre-syncope may be:

lightheaded (dizzy) or nauseated,

have a visual "gray out" or trouble hearing,

have palpitations, or

feel weak or suddenly sweaty.

When discussing syncope with your doctor, you should note episodes of pre-syncope as well.

Becoming unconscious due to a seizure, heart attack, head injury, stroke, intoxication, blow to the head, diabetic hypoglycemia or other emergency condition is not considered syncope.

WHAT TO DO

Someone who faints should be moved so they are lying down to allow blood to flow to the brain.

If they do not regain consciousness promptly, start CPR.

Reflex syncope - the result of a reflex response to some trigger, in which the heart slows or blood vessels dilate (widen).

This causes blood pressure to drop, so less blood flows to the brain and fainting (syncope) or near-fainting (pre-syncope) occurs.

Reflex syncope is the most frequent cause of fainting.

Vasovagal syncope — the common faint — occurs in one third of the population.

It is by far the most common form of reflex syncope.

Often triggered by a combination of dehydration and upright posture.

But it can also have an emotional trigger such as seeing blood ("fainting at the sight of blood").

Some Vasovagal Syncope Triggers

Seeing blood (not considered a serious symptom)

Getting an injection or having blood drawn (not considered serious)

Standing up quickly (a "head rush" is considered pre-syncope)

Standing upright for a long time

Sudden and unexpected trauma, stress or pain, such as being hit

Blood donation

Other types of reflex syncope include:

Situational syncope - a sudden reflex response to a trigger other than those listed above. Triggers include:

Coughing, sneezing, laughing, swallowing

Pressure on the chest after exertion or exercise

Defecating

Urinating (post-micturition syncope: occurs in men while standing to urinate)

Eating a meal

Sudden abdominal pain

Blowing a brass instrument or lifting weights

Carotid Sinus Syncope - a response in older adults that occurs when pressure is applied to the carotid artery in the neck. A hard twist of the neck, wearing a tight collar and pressing on the artery are triggers for carotid sinus syncope.

How is syncope treated? The treatment for syncope will depend upon the underlying condition but may include:

Catheter ablation: procedure to cauterize the specific heart cells that cause abnormal heart rhythms

Pacemakers: device inserted under the skin below the collarbone to deliver regular electrical pulses through thin, highly durable wires attached to the heart; used to treat bradycardia, heart block and some types of heart failure

Implantable cardioverter-defibrillators (ICDs): a small implanted device that delivers an electrical pulse to the heart to reset a dangerously irregular heartbeat; often used to treat ventricular tachycardia or heart failure

Avoiding known triggers

Vasovagal Attack

Simple faint precipated by emotion, pain, fear, prolonged standing, etc.

Suggested by: syncope within seconds or minutes of preceding precipitant.

Nausea,

sweating, and

darkening of vision.

Recovery within minutes.

No incontinence.

Confirmed by: history. No abnormal physical signs.

Finalized by: the predictable outcome of management, e.g. reassurance and advice regarding avoidance of preciptating causes.

Cough Syncope

Suggested by: sudden loss of consciousness after severe bout of coughing.

Confirmed by: history. Normal examination.

Finalized by: the predictable outcome of management, e.g. treating cause of cough.

Panic Disorder

Suggested by: Intense feeling of apprehension or impending disaster.

Developing quickly and unexpectedly without a recognizable trigger.

Shortness of breath and

sensation of smothering, nausea, abdominal pain, depersonalization and derealization,

choking,

numbness,

tingling,

palpitations,

flushes,

trembling,

shaking, chest discomfort,

fear of dying,

sweating,

dizziness,

faintness.

Confirmed by: recognized criteria, e.g. the ICD.

Finalized by: the predictable outcome of management, e.g. reassurance about nature of symptoms, cognitive behaviour therapy, anxiolytics (e.g. diazepam), or antidepressants (e.g. SSRIs).

Sources: 1 2 3 ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ On Hemophobia

Hope this helps with your writing!

[pillarsalt]

hi! i was wondering your opinions on how hrt affects the body? i hold a lot of radfem beliefs but i am trans (taking testosterone). would being a woman to you have to be completely about chromosomes? for example, trans men years on T do not have the same genetic makeup as cis women. same with trans women on E, their genetic makeup would be very different to cis men, and would more correlate to cis women. does this factor in who you consider female/male or having experience as women?

Hi there, thanks for reaching out.

Firstly, I think you may be a bit confused. Taking exogenous hormones does not affect your genetic makeup. Your dna will stay the same unless you're exposed to something extreme like radiation - this is a good thing because dna mutation is bad for you and causes cancer! Your genetic sex is immutable, a person with XY chromosomes cannot have their dna altered to have XX chromosomes instead.

Hormones will affect the expression of your genes, for example turning on facial hair production in women who are taking testosterone. This is why those patterns of facial hair, even in women, differ from person to person. The genes for it were already there, but hormone replacement therapy uses the endocrine system to change what signals get sent to your genes to tell them what features to express.

Beyond chemically induced genetic expression, there are particular physical features in males that do not occur in males, and vice versa. This is a feature of the /ancient/ evolution of sexual reproduction. Despite the variety of metaphysical beliefs about identity and personhood, the truth is that humans evolved to reproduce between two sexes, and human beings cannot change sex. Every cell of your body has your sex encoded within it. This affects us physically in many ways. I and most feminists believe that this fact should be irrelevant to any person's ability to pursue their passion, be themselves, and love who they love. Even so, recognition of biological sex is something important. This is really critical in a medical context. For example: men who receive a blood transfusion from a pregnant or recently pregnant woman have an increased risk of death by transfusion-related lung injury. Another example: tracheostomy tubes differ in size depending on sex due to dimorphism in average tracheal diameter. A women who is reported as a male risks considerable injury by having a male sized tracheostomy tube forced into her windpipe. A considerable amount of medications differ in dose effectiveness and side effects based on biological sex. Something as straightforward as a heart attack has different symptoms depending on if the patient is female or male. Denial of biological sex is dangerous, and as it stands, medical science has not advanced enough to change the biological sex of an individual. If you are born male, you will stay male for your entire life. You say that a transwoman who has taken estrogen is more genetically similar to a woman, I'm sorry but that simply isn't true. A male person will always be more genetically similar to other males than to a female person.

Determination of sex is very simple, it's about the easiest genetic test to do. They have kits for high school classrooms to try out ffs. We need to leave the "meaningful sex change is possible through medical intervention" thing in the past, all we accomplish with that is giving people false hope and an unattainable goal to fixate on. Sex is real and immutable, I wish it didn't matter, but it does.

And why it matters is, maleness and femaleness have become inseparable from certain stereotypes and assigned qualities by societies in human history. Overwhelmingly, the male people subjugate the female people. Since men, male humans, discovered womens' ability to give birth could be taken advantage of, it was capitalized upon. And this is the foundation of patriarchal society. Religions were founded to justify this as the will of god. To deny that women have historically been persecuted due to their sex is, well, misogynistic. There is no "woman feeling" that makes us targets for child marriages, FGM, trafficking/prostitution, and other horrors from the minute we're born and even before. No, it's the sex we were born with that makes the world think it can decide our fate. In fact, the way that people treat male children differently from female children is so different so early, that we are genuinely unable to study human behaviour unaffected by gendered expectations. This is what feminists are talking about when they discuss "socialization". There is not a single man on the planet who knows exactly what it's like to see the world from a woman's eyes, no matter how feminine that man is. Womanhood isn't something you can achieve or acquire through effort: you were either born a woman or you weren't, just like you were either born with detached earlobes or not. It's so simple.

All that to get to my final point: Yes, I believe the definition of womanhood comes down to biology, because anything beyond that is a meaningless stereotype. Women can do anything, be anyone, look any way they want, go through any experience they do. The one thing they have in common is that they are female adult human beings. There is not way to fail at being a woman or do it wrong, you just are. Womanhood is the experience of having been a female person in this world, and nothing else. There are certain things only female human beings need, like abortion and female contraceptive rights, access to spaces where we can be safe from our subjugators (male human beings), and the ability to define ourselves and fight for our collective rights.

(At this point you may object and point out that male people who identify as trans women are also subject to violence and scorn from men: unfortunately that is often the case, but this does not make male people who identify as women, well, female. We need solutions for them that do not involve requiring women to sacrifice our comfort and safety for the sake of a particular subset of men, because of the inherent risks involved and the fact that women do not owe men anything even when those men have it bad.)

One last thing: my opinion is that prescribing exogenous cross-sex hormones is unethical (so are all elective cosmetic medical procedures but that's a post for a different day). I understand the distress that gender dysphoria inflicts on people, however the ill effects of hrt are too numerous to condone. The huge increase in risk of stroke with estrogen, heart disease and uterine atrophy with testosterone, and the way that trans medicine studies are notorious for losing followup with patients after a year or less... it's short sighted and frankly, financially motivated. The amount of trans patients who are prescribed hormones without access to an endocrinologist, it's honestly infuriating. People deserve the best care possible, not lab rat bullshit where they cut you loose when it's not working out. I won't judge anyone for what they do to themselves to cope with distress, but I want everyone, especially girls, to be aware of the lifetime effects medical decisions may have, and that you also can find happiness within yourself without hurting your body.

Thanks again for your question, be well ✌️

[bejeweledblondie]

König Headcannons

A/N: just like Ghost’s headcannon’s I’m taking inspiration from my experiences living on a military base

Warnings: NSFW

König x F! Reader

• König initially first met you while you were volunteering with the United Nations & Doctors Without Borders

• you were administering vaccines to children in the Middle East, & providing medical services to the underprivileged communities

• he was awe of your empathy & kindness towards these children, you treated them like they were your own & took your job super seriously

• KorTac was providing security for the community from potential terrorist attacks, as taking any western countries citizen for ransom seemed enticing

• After a surprise attack on the camp that was set up, he immediately brought you to safety & held you as you sobbed into chest out of fear for your life & all those innocent civilians that caught in the gunfire

• “shhh, schatz it’ll be okay” he whispered to you

• he finally asked you out after months of waiting for the right time

• you were giving him his flu shot when he asked you out

• your first date was in his off post apartment, he had cooked you homemade Austrian food

• his cooking is divine, he always chef’s it up in the kitchen

• you guys moved in only a few months into dating (which seems early but in the military world you’re slacking)

• he proposed with his Oma’s ring

• he also asked your parents over FaceTime for your hand in marriage, they were reluctant but he was very persuasive

• you’d probably wind up working at the hospital on post, & the soldiers that come in 100% know you’ll take care of them

• during Christmas leave both of your families meet in Vienna for Christmas time, I mean cmon Vienna is gorgeous at Christmas

• you two announce your pregnancy at Christmas dinner

• his Oma jumped up & ran over to hug you

• this man’s genes are freakin strong

• you definitely get pregnant with twins

• König is deployed when you find out & you tell him over FaceTime

• he cried pure tears of joy & his whole team celebrated

• due to the fact he’s like a giant he produces large babies

• you’d have to get a c-section for the birth because of it, & König makes it in the last second.

• he still had his hood on & was in his tactical gear scaring the entire nursing staff

• imagine their surprise when he just asks where his wife is

• you have a girl & a boy

• they’d definitely be named after his grandparents

• he sings lullaby’s in Austrian to them to introduce them to his home country’s culture

• he hates leaving for deployments now that they’re born & he definitely became more ruthless on the battlefield due to it

• he 100% would bring the babies to work whenever it was a mandatory fun day or a super relaxed day at work

• these hardened military men would be all over your babies & arguing as to who gets to hold them next

• they’re very well protected & König made sure of that

• he’s a family man at heart & he will do anything to protect them

✨NSFW ✨

• you weren’t very experienced when you met König & when you first saw his cock you were in absolute disbelief a man could be that hung

• you let your intrusive thoughts win & asked if he’d fit inside of you

•it took a lot of foreplay for him to fully fit snug in you

• he definitely would say the most absolutely filthy things in Austrian to you even if you understood them or not

• massive size & breeding kink

• he just loves how small your hands are compared to his cock you need both of them to jerk him off

• when he found out you were pregnant he was elated that his efforts worked out

• loved to see your body change & baby bump grow

• also loved how horny you were as a pregnancy symptom ( it killed him that you’d have to deal with that alone while he was deployed)

• like most military men he too has a collection of your nudes & plenty of videos of him fucking you

• he loves your hips & how wide they are to him it digs deep into the primal instinct of carrying his babies

• König is just as stealthy in bed as he is in on the battlefield

[valyrra]

thank you so much for tagging me, sweet @cloudofbutterflies92 @johnlocsin-johnyakuza you both tagged me in similar chains so i'm combining it lol. TAG GAME - 10 People I'd Like to Know Better

Last Song: After Dark - Mr.Kitty Favorite Color: currently black and red, also still pink but less already Last Movie: X-Men Apocalypse Last TV Show: Invincible duh Sweet/Savory/Spicy: Sweet Relationship Status: fresh out of a breakup Current Obsession: Invincible, Marvel Looking Forward To: oh, bae cloudofbutteflies how do I feel you. But yes. Stopping to care what other's think, but also stopping this eternal cycle of self-hate/self-reproach/self-guilttripping. Obscure Talent that You Have: I honestly dunno. My hair is pretty durable considering the torture I put them through every 2 months. Last Internet Search: Heart attack symptoms

no pressure tagging @esolean @shanaraharlyah @scentedcandleibex @laylowtuna @malicedragoness @elderglocks @evaslytherpuff @lapetitesouris @cloudofbutterflies92 @chewbokachoi @afraidofrabbits @nadilu @livia25leelover @joliackermann @afraidofrabbits @shepardcommander @its-lolyolo @queen-of-stoneharts + whoever wants to join <3

[darl-ingfics]

Next Drabble: 11 & 20 for Jungkook

@bultaoreunheyyy this one's for you 😘 Thanks for the request!

*

“HEY! WHERE THE FUCK ARE…?!”

“Here hyung!”

Yoongi jumped as he nearly smacked face first into Jungkook, who had appeared in the doorway at the same second the rapper had moved towards it. 

Yoongi gasped, one hand clutching his racing heart, the other pressing against Jungkook’s arm. “Sorry, Kook. I didn’t realize you were right there.”

“It’s okay. It’s not like you can see through walls.” The papers Yoongi was looking for sat in Jungkook’s hand. He waved them with a tiny smile. But as the younger man held the papers out to the rapper, Yoongi eyed him suspiciously. 

“You okay, bud? Your voice is sounding a little…” Yoongi gestured towards his own throat, as if to give clarity on his meaning. 

Jungkook shrugged. “I feel fine.” He smiled, despite the undeniable croak in his voice. “I think I might’ve overdid it a bit at Inkigayo yesterday.”

“You sure?” Jungkook nodded. Yoongi narrowed his eyes. Jungkook’s smile brigthened. The producer began to fear that the youngest had become impervious to his glare. He’d have to fix that. 

“You sound like you’re catching a cold,” Jimin spoke up from the kitchen table around a mouthful of cereal, catching both men in the doorway off guard. “Your voice is usually the first to go.” It was Jungkook’s turn to glare, crossing his arms over his chest in a huff while Yoongi’s eyes volleyed back and forth between the two.  

“Hate to say it, but Jiminie’s right,” Hoseok said, leaning back against the kitchen counter. 

Jungkook rolled his eyes as he stepped past Yoongi into the kitchen. “I promise you, I’m not sick. My throat doesn’t even hurt. I’m just…” He slumped into a chair, touching gentle fingers to his neck, “…croaky.” 

Namjoon smacked his hands on the counter. “How many times have I told you to stop eating frogs?!” Hoseok and Taehyung snorted at the terrible joke, Jimin shaking his head, and Yoongi rolling his eyes. 

Jungkook giggled. “Sorry, hyung, you know I’m a terrible listener when it comes to consuming small amphibians…”

“Consuming small amphibians!” Hoseok whispered to himself, trying and failing not to laugh. 

“Okay, please stop talking, it’s hurting my brain.” Taehyung ruffled Jungkook’s hair as he passed his chair. Jungkook swatted at him. Taehyung stuck his tongue out in reply. 

“Also, I can guarantee that the less you talk now, the less painful the sore throat will be later on,” Yoongi added from the doorway. Jimin added a meaningful look in the maknae’s direction. 

Jungkook waved him off, waved all of them off with a gravelly laugh. “You all worry way too much.”

*

“Contrary to your words of foolish bravado this morning, I would say that we worry the proper amount,” Jimin said, leaning dangerously close to Jungkook’s ear. The maknae swatted at him, but Jimin had scurried back just in time, expecting an attack. 

“You are being so dramatic,” Jungkook rasped, shaking his head as he slumped back in his chair. Sure, by early afternoon, it was obvious to all of them that Jungkook had, indeed, come down with a cold. And sure, each new symptom annoyed him throughout practice. 

But, in Jungkook’s humble opinion, it wasn’t anything crazy. Yeah, his throat hurt, but that’s what cough drops were for. Yeah, he was congested, but it was just a stuffy nose rather than concrete settling in his sinuses. This was child’s play. Jungkook had performed on stage in negative degree weather in very little clothes with a high fever and nothing in his stomach. He’d collapsed and been confined to bed from flus and migraines after stages. 

This was nothing even remotely close to any of those times. And yet his hyungs were acting like every sneeze was the end of the world. Which was why their Jungkookie was currently pouting at the kitchen table, already over their doting.

Hoseok gasped, hand clutching his chest. “We are not dramatic!” 

“Then what’s with all the puppy eyes?” Jungkook glared specifically at Taehyung, who was definitely giving him the pitying puppy look. 

Called out, Taehyung pouted harder. “How can you say that? You’re ill!”

Jungkook rolled his eyes. “I have a sore throat and a runny nose. I’m fine.” It did not help his case that he snapped forward, catching a throat-ripping sneeze in his sleeve immediately following his statement. He groaned, rubbing at his neck. 

“Poor thing.” Seokjin pressed a kiss to the top of Jungkook’s head as a mug of tea thumped on the table in front of the maknae. “This will help your throat.”

“What’s in it?” Jungkook rasped, sniffling as he leaned skeptically towards the steaming mug. 

“Tea, silly.”

“Yeah but like… what’s in it?” His eyes were narrowed when his head peeked over his shoulder up at the eldest. 

Seokjin sighed. “Herbal tea with honey and lemon. I did not drug you, Kookie. Not this time.” Jungkook did not look convinced. Seokjin shrugged. “Taste it! You’ll see!”

“How can he see if he’s supposed to be tasting?” Jimin asked, unable to keep the grin off his face. Seokjin turned his attention on him, snapping at the vocalist as Jimin laughed. Jungkook grabbed the mug, wrapping his hands around the warm ceramic. He took a careful sip, the sweet honey and sour lemon mixing wonderfully on his tongue. He smiled, not particularly caring that he could feel several sets of eyes watching him. 

Caretaker Dialogue Prompts

[kyoshithewriter]

Millennium

Warnings: mature themes (mentions of murder, smut 18+)

Wc: No clue😅

Part 2: Meet the Millennial.

“Symptoms of schizophrenia include the following: hallucinations, delusions, disorganized thinking…”

Aleena’s eyes zero in on “hallucinations” on her dimly lit laptop screen. That’s it, she must be developing a mental disorder. ‘The blood you washed off your face last night was very real and so is the blood-stained sweater you currently have double-bagged in the corner of your bathroom.’ She slams her laptop shut and flings her body backwards to recline on her couch. The cup of forgotten pomegranate tea on the mini table in front of her has long stopped steaming but she can’t stomach anything right now. She wants to call someone, but how does she even begin to explain what happened last night without sounding crazy? Especially after they already think she’s very paranoid for thinking she’s being watched. Aleena didn’t sleep a wink last night after she had shamelessly sprinted home. Her apartment is very spacious, something she enjoyed until last night. Getting really spacious, borderline luxurious apartments in this town for cheap is easy; and she was giddy to benefit from it. But now the two bedroom space feels too big for one person. Anybody or anything could be waiting under any surface in any room for her. She had kept all the lights on for the entire night while she stared up blankly at her ceiling. Pretty much like she’s doing now at the lavender coating of the wall in her livingroom. The sound of a quiet ping breaks her stupor. She drags her eyes over to the phone laying face down on the couch beside her and reaches for it.

“Thank you for informing me of your absence, Nurse Clarke. I hope you feel better throughout the day- Matron.”

It was a battle in her mind on whether or not to take the day off. On one hand, she wanted to keep busy so she’d be distracted but on the other, she’d have to walk home alone again. She decided it was best to take the day, hopefully figure out what happened. She’s had no luck so far.

“Alright, let’s find something to watch.” She whispers to herself, reaching for the remote. Aleena switches on the tv mounted on her wall and her heart immediately leaps in her chest.

“Police are seeking any information the public may have about the whereabouts of Gary White and Albert Perrone who have been missing since last night. It is reported that the men may have been abducted at about 11:30 pm last night after Albert’s truck was found abandoned along-”

Fuck. She was busy obsessing over what could have attacked them last night, she forgot that there was an actual murder- double murder at that and she has one of their blood stains on an item of clothing she owns. Aleena begins hyperventilating. Should I call the police? She reaches for her phone with shaking hands. How does she even explain this? They were snatched up by the darkness? Who would even believe that? Ironic that she moved across the country for peace and now she’s going to end up the main suspect in a double murder. In a town of predominantly white people as a black woman.

****************

Boom boom! “Police! Open up!” Aleena is huddled in the corner of her walk-in closet. They can’t take her, nobody will ever believe what actually happened. They’ll give her a life sentence or worse for something she didn’t even do. If only those men hadn’t stopped to harass her then maybe the darkness wouldn’t have taken them. The darkness. The thought suddenly makes her aware that she’s sitting all alone, in her closet, in the dark. The dark. Suddenly, the shadows around her move. It morphs into a figure, with very large hands and a sinister grin. It has no other features and that makes it even more terrifying. It reaches for her and Aleena screams just as it grasps at her-

Aleena gasps loudly as she jumps from her sleep. A hand clutches at her chest as she looks around her space frantically. She’s in her livingroom. She fell asleep on the couch after hours of pacing and crying. She tries sucking a deep breath in her suffocating lungs but ends up screaming as loud knocking reaches her ears. The booming sounds were real. Aleena squeezes at the material of her shirt as she listens keenly. It takes a few seconds for another series of loud banging against her front door to start up again.

“Who is it?” She calls timidly.

There’s a beat of silence before a very masculine, muffled voice calls out weakly.

“Help me.”

Aleena’s body locks tight with tension.

“Why are you asking me?” There are dozens of other doors they’d have to pass before hers. Why come ask her for help? Aleena is immediately suspicious. Do the police know and they’re trying this tactic to coax her to open the door without using force?

“Because I helped you last night.”

Aleena’s spine stiffens.

“You know what I’m talking about. Help me and I’ll give you answers.” His voice is gruff through her door. It’s clear he’s in pain.

“How do I know you’re not here to finish what you started?”

He scoffs.

“I had all the time in the world for that yesterday, Aleena. You were frozen in that alleyway for a while.”

Her skin prickles. He’s telling the truth. She takes a tentative step towards her front door. She reaches out to finger the handle of her door; if she decides to open it, that decision will probably alter her life forever. He could actually end up killing her for all she knows. But he clearly knows what happened last night and she’s thirsty for answers. She sucks in a deep breath and unlocks the bolts on her door, twisting the knob and flinging it open. Aleena gasps at the sight that greets her. There, leaning against the wall just outside her apartment is a man, caramel toned with the most symmetrical face. His eyebrows are thick and neat on top of his face, his nose straight and narrow with plump lips. His hair is curly and neatly cut with a high taper. He’s gorgeous despite the grimace he wears and the sweat collecting along his forehead. Her eyes roam down his tall, lean frame to see his right hand clutching at his very bloody abdomen.

“Holy shit?!” She cries weakly seeing the blood drip in quick succession against the floor.

“Is it okay if I come in, Aleena?” he closes his eyes like the effort it took to ask the question was too much for him.

“I- you need to go to the hospital!”

“Can’t do that. You’re a nurse, I just need you to help me remove the bullets and stem the bleeding. I’ll be fine after.”

“I don’t know how well I’l-”

“Aleena, I’m losing too much blood.” he whispers brokenly. He sways a bit and it kicks her into ER mode.

“Okay, come inside. Lie on the couch.”

He staggers past her and Aleena immediately locks the door and bolts down her hallway for the first aid kit in her bathroom. On her way back down the hallway, it occurred to her that she never told him her name.

*****************

He’s healing. The man on her couch is actually healing. As in, she is watching his wounds close up in real time. She backs away from him, eyes wide in horror.

“I’ll explain everything in a minute. Just please, remove the others.” His voice is smooth like honey. Hoping to placate her trembling form.

“I… what?”

“Please.”

She looks up at his steely brown eyes. Her hands shake but she swallows and adjusts her grip on the surgical tongs. She removes twelve bullets total; whoever shot him wanted him dead. The bullets are strange though, they’re strikingly silver and denser than any bullet she has seen. Aleena chances a glance up at his face from beneath her lashes. He’s already stopped sweating and his face is now smooth, lax.

“I th-think that’s it.” She stutters meekly.

“Thank you.” He eases himself up, eyes glancing around her living room before settling his eyes on the bloody couch.

“I’ll buy you a new one.” He promises earnestly.

There’s something about him. He has an air of calmness around him that she can’t explain and he does everything like he’s on his own time. She doesn’t know how else to describe it. Like even the way he blinks seems so calculated, like it isn’t reflexive like it is for everyone else. She felt his pulse briefly while she worked on removing the bullets. His heartbeat was rhythmic the entire time, slow, steady. Not as erratic as it should be after being shot twelve times and losing all that blood.

“I- uh. I need to wash up. Don’t move. Please.” She pleads not only with her voice but with her eyes. He holds eye contact in a way that suggests he’s trying to notice the details of her brown irises more than being polite. He gives a subtle nod.

Aleena moves quickly to her room after washing up. She kept eyeing the black garbage bag in the corner of her bathroom, desperate for answers and a solution. She wraps her box braids in a tight knot on top of her head and shimmies into a pair of black tights and an oversized grey shirt. The bags under her almond shaped russet-brown eyes are prominent and her plump lips are a bit chapped. Her glasses slide down the bridge of her button nose and she hurries to adjust them before dashing out her room and down the hallway.

“No no no no no.” She feels like crying when she finds the space empty except for a note on the mini table beside her laptop.

“Aleena, I’m sorry for deceiving you but the more you know, the more dangerous it is for you. I took care of your problem and a new couch will be arriving in the next day or two. - Jude.”

Jude. That’s his name. She scratches at her head wondering what problem he took care of. She finds out when she heads into the bathroom a couple minutes later to brush her teeth and finds the garbage bag gone. She doesn’t know if she’s relieved or even more worried knowing he managed to wander down her hallway and directly across her room without her knowing. Whichever one it is, she’s curious. She’s so curious that she can already feel the developing obsession growing that will eat away at all her free time for the foreseeable future.

**************************

“Are you sure you’ve been okay, Aleena?” Her mom’s soothing voice comes through her phone’s speaker.

“Uh, yea I just. I feel better with you on the phone while I’m walking home.” she says truthfully. It’s been a week since the incident. Three days ago, a crew of four men arrived at her door, on her day off, to move in a new, much larger and more expensive couch than her old one. They removed the old one- with an obvious stain that she tried to remove but they asked no questions. In fact, they didn’t utter a word apart from muffled greetings when they first arrived. But Aleena has taken to keeping quiet about what happened and calling her mom on her walks home.

“Did something happen? Do you still think you’re being watched?”

Aleena pauses briefly. She’s so tempted to spill the beans but she knows it will be more trouble than the brief relief she’ll feel for finally getting it off her chest.

“Uh, no. It’s just really quiet at night so it’s a bit creepy.”

Just then, a howl hoots loudly from the woods on the opposite side of the road and her skin prickles again. She can physically feel the eyes on her skin except this time, they feel familiar. Very familiar. Her breath hitches and she tunes out whatever her mom is rambling about to survey her surroundings. Nobody. But she feels it.

“Mom, I’m home now. I’ll call you tomorrow. Say hi to Akeela and Selena for me.”

“Okay sweetheart, talk tomorrow.” Her mom hangs up and she squeezes the phone in her hand.

She just has a feeling that…

“Jude?” It’s barely above a whisper but it sounds loud in the stillness. The silence stretches for a few seconds before she hears footsteps a couple feet behind her.

“Yes?”

She whirls around to find him standing there, in a black trench coat that stops just above his ankles. He looks much better and she didn’t get a chance to appreciate how handsome he truly is the last time they spoke but he really is.

“You asshole!” She spits at him accusingly. She didn’t even mean to say it but she has been bitter. He left her so confused and it made her angry.

“I apologize. I-”

“Who are you?! What are you?! How do you know my name and address?! And why have you been watching me?!” Her frustration pours over as tears stream down her face. She had spent the last couple of days on google searching for any possible answers to make sense of everything. Aleena had already been doubting her sanity and reading about vampires and werewolves had sent her into an episode of maniacal laughter that dissolved into heavy sobbing.

The man before her clenches his jaw looking off into the direction of the thick canopy of trees across the street.

“Not here, I’ll walk you home and then I’ll answer what I can.”

She eyes him skeptically but gives a slow nod of her head.

*************

Aleena sighs in relief when she actually finds him still sitting stiffly on her couch. She’ll admit she showered in record time afraid he’d disappear like he did last week. She clears her throat loudly to announce her approach but the man doesn’t take his eyes off her tv screen.

“No need to clear your throat, you’ve been standing there for seven minutes now just observing me. I understand, I’m a bit peculiar, aren’t I?” He mutters offhandedly.

Aleena’s face burns from being caught staring. She can’t help it though, he is strange.

“Uh, yes. Yes you are.”

From his gait to the way he dresses just screams different. She’s well aware that people nowadays are dipping into fashion trends from every decade but his seems unintentional for some reason.

He turns his head in her direction to stare at her then. His eyes linger a little longer on her bare legs in her cotton shorts but he clears his throat and faces forward again to watch the highlights from horse racing on the news.

“I’ll admit, sometimes the centuries go by quicker than I can keep up with.”

Her brain screeches to a halt. Centuries?

“Did you just say…” she trails off hoping her brain is playing tricks on her.

“Centuries, yes.” He mutters without missing a beat.

For fuck’s sake I brought an untreated schizophrenic in my home. Aleena thinks. She wants to take several steps back, maybe flee to her room and lock herself in to call the police.

“I wouldn’t call the police if I were you, you’re technically the last person who saw those men alive.” He says it in the most conversational tone ever, like he’s discussing the weather.

“Can you… did you just read-”

“No, I can't read minds.” He cuts her off with a low chuckle. “But people become predictable when you’ve had years to study them. Their first instinct to things they don’t understand is fear, which makes sense. Doesn’t make it any less disappointing though.”

Aleena doesn’t know why she’s embarrassed by his words but she is.

“Do you want something to drink?” She asks in an attempt to subtly apologize.

“Yes, actually. Thank you.”

Aleena watches him take tentative sips of pomegranate juice in her peripheral.

“Quite fitting that you offered me pomegranate juice.” He says with a hint of amusement.

“Why?”

He looks at her with a fondness in his eyes that makes her flush.

“You’ll understand soon, Aleena.”

“How do you know my name?”

He straightens his posture even more than she thought was physically possible and leans over to gently place the glass of juice on the table.

“It’s on your work I.D.” He answers easily.

“That’s always tucked into my scrubs under my sweaters or coats unless I’m at work. I’ve never seen you at work.” She eyes him wearily.

“Not always, you were in a hurry on your way to work one time. You left home without your coat on.”

“You… you saw my I.D. from miles away?”

“Yes. My senses are very heightened. In a way that’s a bit extraordinary.” He turns his eyes in her direction to gauge her reaction.

“What are you? Are you a vampire?” She feels silly for asking him. Vampires are fictional, but he just said he has extraordinary abilities.

“I guess that’s the closest thing to whatever I am. We call ourselves millennials. I’ve only met two others like me.” His eyes seem to have grown more intense, and there’s suddenly a lighter ring on the outside of his irises. She gasps.

“Millennials? Why?”

“We’re somewhat immortal for a millennium then we just… lose it.”

There are a myriad of questions bouncing around in her head but the first thing she wants to know is…

“Why have you been watching me? Why me?” She whispers curiously.

“Because…” his eyes roam every inch of her face.

“Because I met you two hundred and fifty years ago.”

[daryldixonfanfiction]

What you fight for! Pt.11 - Pure intentions (*18+)

Masterlist

Summary: Discovering she's unexpectedly pregnant, Julia struggles breaking the news to Daryl...

Warnings: *18+, SMUT!, age gap, mutual pining, morning cuddles, fluff, comfort-sex, unprotected p in v, fingering, aftercare, scary situation, creepy men, protective!Daryl, unexpected pregnancy, pregnancy symptoms, aversion to blood, mention of abortion, fear of abandonment, anxiety, panic attack, dissociation, angst.

wc. 5k

Flinching awake, Julia found herself in Daryl's arms.

His breath blows against the nap of her neck, like the tide, a steady rhythm. He was holding her tightly against him, and she didn't miss his one hand cupping her breast underneath her shirt. It was adorable. Daryl Dixon, completely out seeking comfort in his sleep like a baby. It was unusual to be the first one awake, but she was glad she was, cherishing the innocent moment of his softness.

Careful to not wake him, she turned so she was facing him. And it was a sight to see. His face was laxed with sleep, the harsh lines were not as prominent making him look much younger. And she felt curious, not knowing his age, remembering she had told him hers. It had not thrown him off so he could not be that much older, right? Honestly she didn't think age matters that much and neither did she care if he was. At most she thought him to be a decade older and she didn't see anything wrong with that.

Julia smiled, before pressing her lips to his cheek in a silent thank you. A thank you for him still being here and not regretting her. His confession echoed in her mind just as clearly as he had said it,

“I never regretted you and that's the truth. You hear'n me.”

and she felt so happy, her heart pounding freely in her chest, feeling that part of her that had been hurting melting away with the sunrise glowing on there faces.

Julia didn't know if it was love or what, but how she feels in his presence must be something close to that. And it had been there, slowly growing inside her heart sins that morning. And she had recognized those feelings for him, something significantly deeper, more profound than one would feel for a friend. Staring up at his sleeping face she knew she wanted more than a friendship, that what she truly wanted was what she had longed for…

Love.

Daryl pulled her closer, still in his sleep wanting her flush against him. His face was so close, their foreheads almost touched, and she washed him there closely, tracing the pads of her fingertips along his strong features. And, oh…how she adored him, finding him innocent in his state of sleep. Brushing his bed head out of his face she couldn't help but to feel the attractiveness there, he was a very handsome man. But no. He was far more. She found him beautiful in a way she didn't know a man could be.

She washed him snuggled into her chest, clearly searching for comfort in his sleep, and she wondered what he was dreaming about, if it was a good or a bad dream, but he looked peaceful, so she assumed it must be a pleasant one. Caressing his stubbled cheek she wanted the moment to never end, that they could stay like this forever. But as it got lighter nature called and she thought she could hold it just a bit longer, but it got to the point it felt painful. Carefully unwrapping his heavy arms from her waist she doesn't get far before he pulls her back.

“Were you going?” his deep voice questions.

"Bathroom.”

Daryl sighs with closed eyes, clearly against the idea of letting go, “Can’ it wait, let's sleep some more.”

“I got to go, Daryl.”

With a heavy sigh he opened his eyes, and she washed him back, smiling sweetly up at him.

“What?” Daryl questions.

“Nothing,” Julia smiled.

“What?”

“You slept like a baby, it was adorebulle.”

“Shut up,” embarrassment evident on his face, making Julia stifle a laugh.

Julia grabs her pack to tack with and it’s when she gets up to stand it feels like her body isn't keeping up. With her hands on her knees, slightly bowed over waiting for her vision to return and the lightheadedness to go away, Daryl moves closer,

“You good?”

“Uh, yeah. Think I just got up too fast,” Julia reassured, feeling herself coming back.

A warm hand grabbed her chin, tilting it upwards, “You're pale,” Daryl stated.

And Julia could feel she was but this was nothing new, she had been anemic her whole life so she didn't make a big deal out of it and her answer seemed to ease his worry as he released her chin, beginning to busy himself.

Julia didn't waste any time, heading straight for the bathroom. All the aisles were looted but a small area was left untouched. Female products were almost stocked to the brim with brands upon brands of pads, tampons and hair products. And she didn't think much of it until her eyes landed on the middle shelf. There was almost an audible click in her brain. She felt her mind racing and her body shaking as she stood there before the brands of pregnancy tests.

There was this intense feeling of realization washing over her. That even though she had always been irregular her entire life never had it been this late. No she can’t be - shouldn't she be throwing up if she was, she didn't know. And she certainly didn't understand why there were so many different tests, why couldn't there be just one? It was all too overwhelming and she was starting to jump to conclusions. But she couldn't stand the thought of not knowing in case she was. And she probably wasn't, right?

It almost felt like she couldn't think anymore and in her panic state and her need to pee she snagged a Clearblue week indicator test and a First Response test and locked herself in the bathroom near the back of the store.

Julia sat herself on the toilet with her pants down with the two brands of tests in each hand. She wasn't familiar with brands or which one was best. Did it matter they had expired by a year - she hoped not. Her being an anxious person she felt indecisive in which to pick so she decided to try all of the tests, which all together was six tests. Finishing up she pleased them all face down, letting them develop on top of the toilet lid.

The wait was tormenting and it read she had to wait for 3 minutes. She couldn't stay still for that long, she had to do something in her wait so she did her morning routine, changing undergarments, brushing teeth and fixing her hair. The feeling of doing something normal in a situation like this made her calm somewhat even though she was still shaking.

Taking a deep breath she looked herself in the mirror and she really was pale like Daryl had pointed out, but now it was more likely because she was scared more than anything. With a shaky hand she went for it, flipping the First Response tests over, and to her shock there was an unmistakable strong red line on all three of them, and she just stared as if the lines would disappear if she did so long enough. Then she looked at the Clearblue ones, and to her devastation it said,

Pregnant

3+

Oh, god.

Reading the package over and over again she confirmed she was 6 weeks pregnant and she have had no idea, having completely ignored all the signs.

Julia almost collapsed backwards into the sink as her mind made sense of it. But it wasn't translating - it wasn't even computing as a fact. But the positive tests were there, clear as day, staring right back at her…And it was very real.

Julia covered her mouth, eyes watering as she stared back at herself in the mirror as the world-shattering news sunk in. It feels almost like being given the news that someone was dead...That feeling of reality slipping away like it didn't exist. Her chest expanded suddenly, inhaling a deep breath to keep her from blacking out right then and there - and she looked down at herself, her eyes resting on her stomach. She took her jacket off and in her shirt she backed up so she could see her abdomen in the mirror, turning sideways and smoothed down the fabric there. It was way too early but she was already beginning to show. She could see the little curve there, feeling like it was staring right back at her - and all this time she had mistaken it as bloating. But what about the period of pain she had been feeling and her tender breast? Was it supposed to hurt? Was it normal to feel like this - and she wished she had all the answers, but she didn't, of course she didn't.

It was alive in there. A small thing that was a part of herself and a part of the man she had slept with and woken up to - no… it was a part of Daryl.

Julia felt tears in her eyes. Stupid - stupid - stupid, how could she have been such an idiot? They hadn't - they hadn't been safe at all. Not even a little bit. And why hadn't they been safe? Well...none of it had been planned - it had just…happened. Both desperately seeking comfort in one another without the thought of consequence. The thought hadn't even crossed her mind in either of the moments they had spent together - because she had craved it so badly. But then again, had Daryl not thought about it, or had he just not cared?

Julia felt like she might fall over again - the thought of Daryl...of him knowing - of it actually happening…Oh, god. She felt sick to her stomach of just thinking about it. They had barely begun a journey of knowing each other, but there was a connection there between them that had begun to come to the surface that felt far deeper than just sleeping with one another.

Her hands moved underneath the fabric of her shirt to press down her stomach, and she shut her eyes, and it felt… different, it was definitely something growing inside of her.

Several tears fell just at the feeling and the notion there was a very real baby in there, and when she opened them again she had to sit down on the floor before she would fall over. She was completely devastated, having thought things would be okay and happy, but of course something would destroy…she didn't want it to end.

She didn't know if she could stand yet, it almost felt like she actually would throw up on the floor. And she wondered if that was a sign of morning sickness or because of the anxiety?

She got on her berings slowly, vision tilting just slightly as she held herself up with one hand against the wall. Knowing if she took any longer Daryl would come knocking. So she calmed herself as much as she could, drying her tears and putting on her jacket and pack back on, discarding the evidence in the trash bin before heading out.

Walking back to the same aisle, feeling like she deserves some sort of control over the situation. Because she just wanted to feel like she had a choice and she knew she had to make one before it was too late. She wasn't sure of what to take for an abortion, if any of the over the counter pills worked and she felt like a shameful person as she grabbed an emergency contraceptive. Standing there and just staring at the box in her hand she was still making that choice in her head - and she just didn't know what to do. Did it make her a bad person if she took it? Was it irresponsible? Immoral?

On the back of the package it read, DO NOT USE: If you're already pregnant (because it will not work).

And of course it wouldn't. It wasn't an abortion pill after all, it was to prevent pregnancy after conception. If she wanted an abortion she would have to find a pharmacy, and how was she gonna explain that to Daryl? How was she gonna explain she was already 6 weeks p-

Voices of men entered the store. Julia watched the group of men begin to go through the shelves, looking for food probably and they didn't seem to know they were there. And speaking of, where was Daryl?

Julia continued to hide, staying silent as she carefully begun to move backwards, away from the intruders that loudly chatted amongst themselves and she didn't really listen to anything they said until,

“Thought you said there would be a girl here?” One of the men complained.

“No, I said I saw a girl and a man heading this way.” the other man clarified.

“You claim her?”

“Boys remember the rules. There is no such thing as claiming, only free game,” another man said and all the men started laughing.

Her stomach sank, the feeling of horror had her frozen in place. These were bad people, very bad people and if they were to find her, she imagined very horrifying things would happen.

There was movement behind her and before she could make a sound, large hands clasped over her mouth. She fought against it, tried to scream for Daryl, but she was left defenseless against the strong body. The only sounds that could be heard were the men talking and moving around the store, and her panicked breaths against the hands silencing her. Then one hand moved away and she was being turned around, faced with the man she was silently screaming for… The father of her unborn child.

Daryl.

Thank God.

Julia stopped fighting against him, looking up at him with fearful eyes. The thought she was carrying his child in a world of the walking dead was terrifying for many reasons. She could tell he was scared too, though his fear stemmed from adrenaline and survival to get them out of there, because… he didn't know.

He motioned for her to stay silent with a finger against his lips, Julia nodded and his hand released. She could see him thinking of a plan, because how could they escape unnoticed, and there were many, 8 if she counted wright, all armed. But then she remembered the window in the bathroom, they were close enough to make it without being seen.

Julia pointed towards the bathroom behind the aisle of feminine products and drew a window in the air with her hands. Daryl seemed to understand what she was referring to and he nodded, leading the way to the bathroom.

With the door closed behind them, Daryl opened the small tinted window, then motioned for her to make it true. Glancing towards the trash bin before stepping on top of the toilet lid Julia hoists herself up and out. Daryl passed his bag and crossbow before following, careful to not to make a sound he closed the window shut, to not reveal their escape.

“Go, go, go,” Daryl ordered, and they rushed into the forest away from the band of men.

Hands in her pockets she could feel how the heavy weight of anxiety loomed.

The more she thought about it, which she had done all day, finding out she was pregnant felt like either choice she was left to mourn something, it already felt like she was. She didn't even know if she was ready to take care of another life even though she had always wanted to be a mother, be married and have a family of her own. But the world was far different then when she had those innocent dreams.

Daryl turned to face her, and his pause almost made her trip over her own feet. He was staring down at her, his gaze making her feel naked, like he could tell what was wrong. With that same expression when he had told her she looked pale he said,

“I don’t like that color on your face.”

And of course her face was still pale, probebully paler for him to comment about it, but she was feeling unwell for reasons she could not tell him yet.

“I’m fine, let's keep going,” she lied.

“We're setting camp here,” Daryl declared, not even bothering to call her out and began to skin the squirrels he'd been hunting along the way.

And of course Daryl didn't buy it, she was the worst of liers there was. Their close encounter this morning had scared her deeply and jumpy all around, which she also knew he had picked up on. He seemed to notice things most people didn't, but she was relieved he didn't push for the truth.

Concentrating on tending the fire as Daryl gutted the animals Julia could not watch on like she usually did. Feeling like the sight of blood or just the notion of it made her sick. It was ironic that it was first after finding out she was pregnant she began feeling symptoms.

Only when eating did the sickness stop. She had been starving all day, the feeling of having warm food in her stomach felt so, so good.

“Slow down girl, no one's gonna take it from ya,” Daryl said from across the fire.

“This is slow.” Julia said, food stuffed in her mouth and she didn't care for manners, she was starving.

Throwing the bones into the fire it didn't take long for that heavy feeling to return, and she just wished for it to leave her alone. Hugging her pack feeling terribly overwhelmed by the events of the day she hadn't noticed Daryl watching her. He moved from across the fire, kneeling on one knee in front of where she was sitting on the cold ground, and as if he was speaking to an injured animal he said,

“Julia. Hey, look at me.”

Slowly her teary eyes looked into his. His look was one of concern, and deeply so. She knew he couldn't fully understand the visual display of emotions nor the reason behind the fear she felt - he probably thought it was a response from their close encounter with the men in the store, which was parsley true. He reached out, wiping a tear away from her cheek and said,

“Let’s go to bed, okay?”

Julia nodded weekly “Okay.”

The fire was soon to burn out, the last ambers drifting off into the night. Huddling up against one another, having zipped their sleeping bags together Julia laid turned from him, letting tears fall along her nose down into the bedding. The smallest of sniffles escaped her. Daryl moved closer, pulling her into his arms, his body warm and comforting against her. Looking up at him as she stared into his blues, taking in his lovely features. He looked so soft in moments like these, she had almost forgotten what was underneath that rugged exterior and what he was capable of. His watercolor eyes looked almost like a creature that would never harm anyone, especially when he was looking at her, with all his kindness and worry.

“Way you cryin’?” He asked, gently drying the wetness away.

He was such a sweet man.. So, why was she so scared of telling him? She didn't know - she didn't know anything anymore. Her world had turned upside down, her bubble had finally burst, and she was just too overwhelmed to think straight and, and…

“I don’t know, I don’t know,” she managed to tell true the tears that just kept on coming.

She was un ugly crier, probably making him feel put off by her distraught state. But he was not put off, more so determined than anything to find the reason behind the tears, and she didn't feel ready to tell him yet.

“Why don’t you know?” he questioned further.

But the tears worked against her, not allowing her to speak.

“Yah scared?” he tried, continuing to wipe her face.

And maybe it was evident that she was, because faces said so much, gave so much away. Especially hers.

“You don’t gotta be scared no more, they're not gonna find us,” his deep voice was so very gentle.

But she could not shake the feeling, and it was as if all the terrifying experience with men tore into her like a sharp pain shooting through her chest. Shaky hands reached out, holding onto the fabrike off his chest like a lifeline, the fer poured out before she new it,

“No! They are gonna find us! And - and, they'll kill you and then they are gonna rape me!”

Only after her words came to life did she realize she admitted to a fear so deep within herself she shocked herself. She felt him stiffen to her words, his heart beating louder as he held her as if he was gonna lose her.

“No, no,” his deep voice rumbled from his chest. “Nothing like that’s gonna happen. No one's gonna hurt ya and nobodys’ gonna kill me.”

“You don't know that. Didn't you hear what they said? They said I was ���free game and-”

Daryl moved on top of her, caging her in and his eyes looked intense making her worry she had upset him somehow. Tears spilled from the corner of her eyes down to her ears as she stared up at him. With a more serious tone he said almost darkly,

“No. Yah ain't.”

It felt like she couldn't breathe. It sounded like a confession. He didn't outright say it. But why else would he so straightforwardly denie the idea, as if the thought angered him.

Oh.

Did he already see her as is? That would explain the protectiveness, the anger and the gentleness in his touch. Her mouth trembled and the softness in his eyes returned. He searched her face before leaning down and enveloping her in a kiss. The kiss so soft she could feel the pure intentions behind it. It calmed her to the point her tears stopped falling.

Daryl pulled away, resting his forehead against hers, Julia closed her eyes as well. The feeling of his warm breath against her face was pleasant against the cold air as he said almost pleadingly,

"Please stop crying. Just tell me what to do.”

Julia couldn't help herself as her arms wrapped around his neck, and it felt like she could not word what she needed. He let her hold him close in response to her desperate need of comfort. She opened her mouth as if to tell him about the baby. But she just couldn't get the words to leave her. She was so scared. But she needed him now more than ever. His protection, his touch, his voice, him underneath her skin, but even that wouldn't be near enough.

She felt him lean into her ear, “Tell me,” he begged.

She unwrapped herself from the embrace, her hands resting on either side of his face. Gazing up at him she felt shy to say what she wanted. He was staring right back at her, as if reading her, making her feel like an open book underneath his gaze. But what she also felt was his desire hardening against her thigh. His eyes had darkened with lust, filled with that same desire they had shared last night.

He seemed to understand what she was asking for. That same pulse began to beat between her legs and she spread them apart, welcoming him. It seemed to have heightened his own desire as his lower body moved against hers and he did it so very carefully, gauging if she would stop him. But she wouldn't. This is what she wanted. All of him inside of her.

With her hands still on his face she kissed him. His tongue entered her mouth and before she knew it he had taken control, their tongues dancing and it felt like he always was in a desperate need for more. His hips rocked against her front and the feeling of his hard length had her walls squeezing around nothing. Wetness pooled like a poodle, staining her jeans and she wondered if he could feel it. His hand traveled down, cupping her mound she gasped into his mouth. She could feel him undo her jeans, assisting she lifted her bottom and with one swift motion they were pulled down and all the way off, tossing them out without breaking the kiss.

Daryl had her panting as he pulled away for the need of oxygen. She washed on as he pulled his jacket and shirt off, leaving himself in a sleeveless button down, reminding her how strong and broad he was. Just as fast his lips returned to hers and she melted into his mouth, his hand cupped her and she just wanted him inside already. It felt like he was teasing her and probably enjoying her desperate state, feeling the wetness over her undergarment. Painfully slow his hand went underneath the fabrike, thicke fingers going along her folds almost curiously at how wet she was. Just with his fingers down there it felt so good she had to pull away from the kiss and when he dipped his fingers inside of her, going for a spot she had no idea existed inside of her, had her within seconds away from climax.

She could feel him washing her, that intense feeling building and belding before it- His hand clasped over her mouth before the moan escaped her. Julia swore he had her seeing stars, feeling almost lightheaded as she came down. A kiss was pressed to her forehead and she gazed up at him only wanting more.

The unmistakable sound of him undoing his pants has her stomach flutter in anticipation, her legs spreading even wider as he moves closer to lube himself with the wetness. Just as he aliens himself, feeling his head pressed against her entrance he paused, whispering,

“You gotta be quiet, okay.”

Julia nodded, wrapping her arms around his neck and before she could ready herself her promise went out the window. His hand clasped over her mouth once more, his other hand cradling her head. Entering her all the way she could feel how her walls adjust to the intrusion. It was a tight fit but she liked the feeling of him stretching her out.

Daryl pulled almost all the way out before he pushed himself inside, beginning a steady pace. Every rock of his hips had her making sounds into his hand, making him remind her to keep quiet. But how could she stay silent when he was making her feel so good.

Daryl buried his face into her shoulder, heavy breaths of pleasure leaving him. Her legs wrapped around him, sending him deeper. His breath became more laborde as she did so and she could feel him holding himself back, not allowing his own sounds of pleasure coming to life.

The hand covering her mouth was exchanged into sloppy kisses. The pace slowed for just a moment letting her breath for a moment before his hand returned and the pace of his hips as well. Pressure built in her stomach as he went faster, his breaths turning into grunts. But he kept them low and controlled. Daryl was locked in. Eyes closed, chasing after his climax. His hair had become dampened with sweat and in her pleasure she takes in his rugged, wetherd face, his masculine beauty exudes from him. Before she knew it she was on the edge of her second climax, her face turning hot, the intense feeling building up before it would explode like a supernova. The feeling was so intense she couldn't make a sound, legs shaking intensely as she went true it, feeling the wave all true her lower body, down to her feet. It was overwhelming in a pleasurable way, having her almost feeling drunk as she came down. Opening her eyes only to be met by his piercing blue ones as he continued to move inside of her. He seemed to like washing her as much as he liked to kiss her and it felt so good to be wanted.

She could see him fighting it, as if to prolong his chase. But she could see the shift behind his eyes, the primal instinct to finish burning inside of him. As if he couldn't take it anymore he thrusts his hips harder, the pace overstimulating, bringing tears to her eyes. Their flesh collided inside the sleeping bag and she worried the noises would alert nearby walkers.

With an animalistic grunt he pulled out, finishing on her thigh. Their panting breaths filled the night as he stopped himself from completely collapsing on top of her. He reached clumsily for something in his back pocket and cleaned his mess off her thigh, the aftercare sweet she couldn't help but smile.

Puting the rag away he pressed the softest kiss she had ever received from him, closing her eyes she melted into it, completely worked out and ready for bed. With an arm he pulled her into his chest, his chin resting on top of her head and this was where she felt the safest she had ever felt in her entire life. In the arms of the man she trusted her life with, that also was the man that had made her pregnant and had no idea because she had failed to tell him.

It was nice, the unintentional comfort he provided, holding her as if her world hadn't just turned upside down and their shared journey wouldn't come to an end. Because she knew when he found out everything would change and she had a feeling it would break her heart.

And that was when she decided to not tell him. That for the sake of the future, for her selfish desires for love she would simply not tell him. Under no circumstances was he to find out until they found the doctors and finished what she was set out to do. And Julia hoped he would not hate her for it, that he would find it within himself to understand.

With her ear against his beating heart and his steady breath she drifted away from the harsh reality she would be woken to. But for now she would be with the man she just began to know and love.

Pt.12 Masterlist