#i might keep a doc of all the results tho so yeah

[kotlc-most-likely-to]

Which KotLC Character is most likely to...

[tapuhauko]

hey all! a little update here!

sooo I have been extremely tired & busy lately, hence why I haven't been online much.

Most of it was because I now work at the zoo a lot more often (4 days a week) and it has been leaving me very fried and tired, but now this week something else popped up that's causing me stress and is making it hard to write I'll pop it under a readmore just in case cause of triggers people might have! [ CW: Bloodwork / medical talk ]

so I had bloodwork done again to see if the infection levels in my blood were lowered again after a month, and they were not. the doc called me the day after I had the work done (usually not a good sign), and I panicked really bad cause of stuff in my family that happened in the past. Told me to come by that afternoon and give a urine sample. I went there with my mentor, and all was good and well. I dropped off the sample, we had a talk with the doc. She figured it might be a bladder infection, cause of the sample + my lower back pain and pain near the bladder when she examined my abdomen. She prescribed antibiotics and I went on my way. They kept the urine sample for further testing, and planned another check up next tuesday. Today I called for the result of the test. Negative for a bladder infection... So now I'm left with worries again. All I can do now is wait for tuesday to roll around and for me to go there again, hoping it's nothing too bad. So yeah, it's causing me some stress and that's why I will probably be quiet a little longer. (Mutuals feel free to ask for my discord tho!! I'm active on there daily!) I'll keep you all posted!

[spiderdramaqueen]

hey, remember my complementary quartet au? (i really, really recommend you to check the first post before reading this, otherwise you probably won’t understand anything)

wait, what do you mean i didn’t write anything about it for two months?..

WELL. the time doesn’t matter.

 so. i mentioned in the previous post that there’s a conflict between Martyn and RK at some point of the au. in this post, i’ll elaborate on that.

you see, after RK and Martyn arrive to Hermitcraft, Martyn begins to spend a lot of time with Ren. it’s not like he’s doing this intentionally, he’s just really excited to meet another version of his King! in the same time, RK and Ren don’t really like each other, to say the least. which leads to them actively avoiding one another.

which eventually results in RK and Martyn seeing each other less, as well.

but that’s not only it. at some point, RK starts to intentionally seclude himself from Martyn. don’t get him wrong, he still dislikes Ren, but… but maybe, just maybe, it will be better for Martyn to stay with him. his other version is not as traumatized as RK himself (from RK’s perspective, anyway), he lives in a peaceful place, he has a lot of friends…

RK won’t admit that Ren might be better in some ways

RK won’t admit he’s envious

he’ll just. he’ll just do what’s right. that’s what it is. nothing more.

 meanwhile, Martyn really misses his King. yeah, he’s having a lot of fun with Ren, but that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t want to spend time with RK anymore! so, he tries to reconnect with him again.

then, he notices, that RK is clearly avoiding him. Martyn feels confused. this have never happened before. so, Martyn seeks an advice…from Doc. he noticed, that he and RK became quite close recently…well, in their weird rivalry way. whatever.

Doc doesn’t know for sure what exactly is going on. after all, RK doesn’t talk much about his feelings. but he did notice, that RK cares for his Hand. so, he suggests Martyn to talk to him.

 Martyn does exactly that and confronts RK.

it doesn’t go well at all. RK stubbornly insists that he is fine. Martyn stubbornly (desperately, even) tries to get him to talk. the conversation quickly becomes heated.

maybe at some point RK says something along the lines of “do ye even care to which king do ye serve?”

maybe Martyn leaves the conversation in tears, that RK won’t see.

 (tbh, i have an idea for the event that could’ve been a final trigger for this conversation, but i need to ponder on this a little bit more. wait for another two months idk /j)

 and so, rk-martyn argument actually initiates more rk-ren and doc-martyn interactions. let me explain.

Martyn doesn’t try to seek Doc’s help after that. it’s not because he thinks that Doc’s advice was bad, he just prefers to deal with this alone. tbh, i kinda see c!Martyn as a person who is friendly and outgoing, but prefers to keep emotional stuff to himself, so, yeah. you might say “uhhh but why he did go to Doc in the first place?”, well, at that time he was too confused with RK’s behavior.

anyway, this time, it is Doc who reaches out to him. it’s not like he’s good at emotional stuff either, but hey. he’s pretty good with fixing his redstone machines. it can’t be harder than that, right?..

in the meantime, Ren notices some changes in Martyn’s state too, even tho the latter prefers not to speak about it. even though Ren is already on this whole crown madness stuff, he can put two and two together. he has an idea of what might’ve caused it.

and he decides to confront RK about it. even though he’s still wary of his alternate version.

tbh, their conversation doesn’t change much, but it seems to be a turning point for these two. Ren finally stands up to RK, and RK starts to see that there’s more to Ren than he initially thought.

 well, to be more precise, this seems to be the turning point for the whole quartet, changing the dynamic between all four. and this goes even further when empires crossover kicks in. yeah, i know that i said in the previous post that the rift doesn’t lead to empires in cq!au. sorry, i changed my mind. i just was discussing this with my friend and i thought that empires crossover might be good for cq dynamic.

i can see RK refusing to follow the compass with Doc. he still prefers not to interact with big hermits events much. so, he stays on the hermitcraft. and, as you remember, Ren didn’t join the crossover with others at first. so, i think, RK stumbles upon him at some point. and they… talk.

and then they talk more.

and maybe spend some time with each other.

honestly, i can see them warming up to each other ONLY after the end of RenTheKing’s storyline.

meanwhile, Martyn gladly joins the crossover. and, hey, remember how Doc was freaking out when he got on empires? WELL. i imagine him and Martyn sticking together during the crossover in cq!au. and Martyn, being a wanderer he is, is much more calmer in this situation then Doc. he can show to him all the wonders of an adventure like this, and they bond over this.

 then, after the crossover ends, Martyn and RK talk again, and this time, their conversation is much more fruitful. in the end, the dynamic between all four becomes much more domestic and calm.

 (my askbox and dms are still open for any questions! PLEASE if someone talks to me about cq!au i’ll explode from happiness)

[its-real]

I was going to wait until I had finished doing all the concept sketches for this but uh, I’m lazy so here take it as it is I’ll keep adding surely surely.

-LONG POST-

AU where the hermits fall into the boatem hole with no way to fly out because of some event that happens - maybe an apocalypse, maybe everyone just goes apeshit, who knows - and they all get messed up heads from falling in the void and passing out n fun stuff like that. They ‘land’ - idk how this would work without them dying lol - in a semi futuristic city which for now let’s just call it Boateqm (silent q). The hermit crabs would also fall at different rates therefore appear in the city at different times. So where do they end up?

Hospital gang:

Etho wakes up in a hospital bed with no memories - most of them will wake up with no memories btw - his doctor/nurse (this hospital may be understaffed) Tango asks him a bunch of questions then has to go see another patient. Etho is seen by a certain Bdubs who had just finished visiting his buddy Scar -will get to him next- in the bed next door. Bdubs walks back to notify Scar, a fashion designer, that the guy in the bed across would make a great model, just look at the striking hair! And the red eye! He opens the curtains on the side and Scar gets a look. He asks if Etho would like to be hired. Etho is to say the least very confused and on the verge of a panic attack that never quite seems to happen so he’s in a weird kind of limbo anyway it is now that his doctor/nurse Tango comes back and having overheard the conversation suggests it would be a good idea. The hospital can only take custody of Etho for so long, might as well start earning money now so he doesn’t become homeless. Etho is still very confused. So Tango just agrees to the job for him as his caretaker lol, and besides Scar comes here kinda often so Tango trusts him. Anyway Etho’s true passions he discovers are synthesisers, breeding horses with Bdubs and finding elaborate ways to do tax evasion. A simple man.

Scar is in the hospital because he got SCAR (hehe) from walking into a glass door in his super fancy house, which he owns because he’s a super fucking rich fashion designer of his own label Scara (this is not the first time he’s walked into a glass door). Scar refuses to go to a rich people hospital tho cause 1) he cares about healthcare and wants more funds to go to lower grade hospitals 2) Tango is his mate, and needs a goddam raise. But yeah, very successful, ran for mayor once but someone really didn’t like that which resulted in another hospital visit. Mans in the wars. One hospital visit he got really inspired by the fabric and stuff there so he had a line of clothes that were hospital inspired one time, in turn making hospital inspired garb very trendy for a bit. What a mad lad. Ideas man. Some would call him a genius if he didn’t keep on walking into glass doors n shit. Scar woke up in the back room of a small tailoring shop owned by a nice old couple who took him under their wing. He thanks them in every award speech, and whenever he’s in the area make sure to stop by and give them presents. His side hobby is gardening.

When Tango came to, he was lying on the footpath of a quiet street in the suburbs just out from the main city. Gorgeous day, golden hour, pretty houses, very aesthetic. He also had a leg injury, fuck. So Tango did what anyone would do: hobbled to the nearest house, asked in the nicest way he could under a lot of stress (so he kinda yelled) for a first aid kit, and performed surgery on himself atop the nice families dinner table. The nice family turned out to have called the police and an ambulance, who showed up just as Tango was wrapping up his leg with a bandage and took him away to the police on a stretcher. This debacle got him a leading story on the local newspaper: ‘Man performs surgery on himself after waking up with no memories and a leg injury’. After being questioned by the police, they decide they can’t really charge someone with amnesia and no money with anything like breaking and entering (he did knock and they did let him in) or property damage (blood on the carpet). The paramedics are stunned at his surgery, so they tell the police to take him to the nearest hospital and get him hired there, he could save so many lives. He gets hired by the head doctor after an examination of the surgery. The head doctor doesn’t really care that Tango doesn’t have any records or anything, the hospital is understaffed and Tango seems like an Angel sent down from the heavens to him. Tango is very very good at his job. So good that he gets offered a job at a far better paying hospital which he takes, then soon drops because he prefers the chaos of his old job much better.

Tango found Impulse extremely dehydrated, looking like death, wandering outside his flat one night, so he carried the man inside and saved his life. Now they are flat mates, and Impulse works in a tech store - an upgrade from working at a service station previously.

Bdubs woke up in an inner city park at night, homeless, broke, and in the company of other homeless and broke people. He built his way to success, got luckily hired by some rich asshole to mow their lawns plural - the rich asshole didn’t ask much questions, he just saw a poor man criticising the way a park had been landscaped to an old guy in a caravan and though it was good enough, seeing as the last one quit - and Bdubs didn’t mind too much, because the rich assholes property was really gorgeous. Once Bdubs was able to say he had work experience and wasn’t homeless he started babysitting the kids in the neighbourhood, pretty good money. Plus the kids love him, and everyone he meets loves him, he's just a nice guy. He met Scar because he had to purchase a suit for a kids birthday party, so he went to the cute little tailors shop he always walked past on the way to his favourite cute little gardening supplies shop. By now Bdubs had been promoted to part time gardener - the job is shared - and started working on and off at a building firm. They become besties, turns out Scar is also really into gardening etc etc. Eventually Bdubs becomes an architect, mainly designing for city contractors n such but occasionally designer homes, like the one he did for Scar.

Mumbo and Grian wake up in the hospital around the same time that Etho is still there, however Etho has been awake longer, and should really find a place to stay soon now that he’s got a steady job. Since - ok plot point here - the two are in the exact situation that Etho found himself in, he starts to feel like something weird is going on. Mumbo and Grian take a lot longer to recover than Etho did, and the two become hospital bed neighbor buddies. When they finally recover Scar offers them a temporary place to stay at his house while they find work. Tango gets Impulse to put in a good word for Mumbo at his work.

Nomads:

TFC is an old man who lives in a caravan off the money he made being a very successful miner, he now collects pretty shiny rocks and gems and stuff to give to kids. He’s like an all year round caravan Santa and wise old mystical figure. Dope.

Joe is a humble man who likes to wander. He’s never had a home, but if he needs anything he’ll go to TFC’s caravan or a homeless shelter or something. But he isn’t sad or anything, he really likes the freedom of being a simple wanderer.

Others:

Keralis is a business partner of Bdubs. Kerlalis is mega stonks. He was one of the first to land, had a big diamond in his pocket, bought shares in a company that blew up soon after and now he is really fucking rich.

Doc and Ren are the only ones who remember anything, and they arrive at the same time. Doc manages to keep his cool, but Ren loses his shit and gets thrown in a mental institution. Doc spends some time trying to get Ren out, and after a final success and laying low for a bit the two seek to bring all the hermits together.

Pearl ends up working in Bdubs building company.

Beef works in a music shop -sells records and instruments- and he starts up a record label out back after his boss retires and passes the shop onto him.

And yeah I don’t really know the other Hermits that well was hoping some of ya’ll could help me find places for them in this city :) don’t really know how to format this either so maybe some input would be nice, just wanted to get the idea out hehehe

[one-piece-dumpster-fire]

Hello! Could i please have some good good pregnancy and parenting headcanons with a fem!s/o for Law, Eustass, and Zoro please? Thank you so much and have an awesome day!

Oof pregnancy and parenting headcanon make me so soft, thank you very much for this sweet request🥺! I focussed a bit more on the pregnancy part rather than the parenting tho since I've written something similiar for Kid and Law already😅 Hope what I came up with suits you, and sorry for the long wait!

How they deal with a pregnant gf and having a baby headcanon

Trafalgar Law

because of his medical knowledge and observant nature, Law actually noticed the first signs of your pregnancy even before you did

so when you finally realize that you're pregnant and go to confront him with your discovery, he's anything but surprised

"Law, I need to tell you something. I'm-"

"Pregnant? Yeah, I thought so."

he looks pretty unbothered and composed, almost as if this isn't anything new to him, but on the inside he is completely tense and filled with anxiety. A baby just doesn't fit into your pirate lives. At all. However he doesn't want to show his true feelings and possibly cause you to panic. You already got enough on your plate with all the new physical and hormonal changes you're about to go through

personally Law didn't plan on having kids, ever, but what's done is done. To make sure that this is really what you want he'd still offer you the option of an abortion, but when you decline and tell him that you want to keep the child, he accepts your decision

"Alright (Y/N), brace yourself then. A few major changes are upon us..."

everything from the beginning of your pregnancy to the date of birth is planned out by him. Law doesn't want anything to go wrong and refuses to take risks. That means you'll spend most of your time either stuck by his side or in the proximity of another member of the Heart Pirates

Bepo, Penguin and Shachi are super excited for the kid and to be uncles. They all come up with their own ideas on what they'll do with the baby once it's born, and their enthusiasm sort of puts Law at ease. This means he and you at least won't have to deal with everything by yourselves

when you actually go into labour, Law's composed facade drops for a moment and he reveals just how stressed he's been up until now

in order to properly assist you and be there for you while you're giving birth, he forces himself to imagine that this is just an ordinary operation. It's not his girlfriend having his baby, he's not about to be a father in a few minutes-

all the stress and anxiety instantly falls off of him when he first holds the new life you two created.

the first time Law looks down at his baby he's absolutely mesmerized. Sure it's still bloody and screeching its lungs out, but despite all odds it's looking completely healthy and is actually,,,, really adorable? Holy shit, how did he manage to make something so pure-looking-

after cleaning the baby and introducing it to its mother, he brings the little human over to Bepo and lets it rest in the bear's soft fur instead of wrapping it up in a blanket. Not only should that be far more comfortable for the tiny thing, but it's also the first bonding experience with uncle Bepo. And while the baby is sleeping, Law walks over to check in on you and tells you how great you did

as far as being a dad goes, Law belongs to the supportive but distant type. Whenever he's got the chance he'll try to spend time with his kid, but there are often other, more important things he has to take care of

however he's still a proud parent and lowkey hopes that the child will take an interest in his work when it gets older. It shouldn't come as a surprise that one of the first things your kid will be taught by Papa Law is how to dissect a frog

Eustass Kid

his immediate thought when you let him know that you're pregnant is "how can I make this unhappen"

look at him, Kid is not ready to be a dad. Especially when it comes to his level of maturity he's basically still a child himself-

no one on the Victoria Punk is prepared for the big news. Their captain made a baby. There will be a kid running around the ship. Oh shit, everyone better start learning to limit their use of profanities already-

initially Kid acts pretty grumpy throughout your pregnancy. He didn't want this, but it's still happening. And he can't do anything against it. He's almost acting like a pregnant woman himself-

can not and will not handle your cravings/mood swings. Whenever you start acting up he just gets completely irritated and quickly peaces out when he can't come up with a way to deal with you

but what started out as regret turns into excitement when he thinks about how awesome his kid would be. With him as dad and you as mom it's only natural that the result will be amazing

and thus he starts to be a bit more open-minded towards the whole situation. Heck, he even gets lowkey excited and starts building a few baby cribs and closets for the child!

unfortunately tho Kid is anything but compassionate during your pregnancy, and it gets especially bad when you start showing. His immature nature shines through and he makes quite a few indecent comments on how you look a balloon,,,

for some reason he also tends to be more horny than usual. Hey, you already got a bun in the oven, so there isn't anything else you need to worry about, right?

in contrast to how he treated you during your pregnancy, he's actually very supporting and motivating during birth

lmao but that's mostly because he's eagerly waiting between your legs for the kid to plop out and right into his arm like a Christmas present

it's almost like a lottery to him and he's super excited what the brat will look like

however nothing could have prepared Kid for the moment when he gets to hold the baby for the first time. The young man basically beams with pride and grins from one ear to the other while the baby cries like an alarm clock

Kid's first time holding the newborn in a nutshell:

"Hehe, it looks like we got a girl here, ey (Y/N)?"

"Kid... that's the baby's ass. You're holding it the wrong way around."

he definitely comes up with ridiculous names for the child, such as: "Eustass Explosion", "Eustass Chainsaw" and his personal favorite- "Eustass the Destroyer"

putting his excitement aside, the young pirate captain definitely has to grow into the role of a father. At first he almost treats the kid like some sort of new toy or pet

you'll never catch him changing even a single diaper. Most of the time Kid tells Killer to man up, cover the holes in his mask, and take care of it by himself if he really wants to be considered 'the best uncle'

despite his rowdy behaviour he is aware that the child is 'fragile' and usually makes sure to keep it away from any dangerous stuff, meaning that the workshop is off-limits for the little one. Kid also never uses his metal arm when he's playing with or holding the baby; instead he build a more authentic prosthetic that'll allow him to hold the child more properly

Roronoa Zoro

his eye almost pops out of its socket when you tell him

holy shit! Zoro of course knew that sex makes babies, but what are the odds of this happening to you?! Besides he always considered himself to be too controlled and restrained for that to work?! Damn?!?!

despite the initial shock he wants to do his best to help you through the pregnancy. After all he basically caused this-

however Zoro can't even find the way to the grocery store to get some diapers

someone send him help. And by help, I mean Chopper

the reindeer himself doesn't know too much about pregnancies, but he's more than happy to collect some first-hand experience and teaches Zoro all about how to be a dad and what's going on with your body

whenever you're near he keeps his swords sheathed and tucked away from you. Once your stomach starts popping he's wary that if he comes too close to you with a sharp thing you might burst or something

at night he keeps watch like a guard dog, his overprotectiveness shines through and he often refuses to go to sleep before you

you probably go into labour while he's out getting lost or fighting some marines, but once Zoro gets the news he almost drops his sword and hurries back to be with you

but he arrives almost an hour later because he got so excited that he forgot the way back to the Sunny

Zoro really wants to help you and Chopper deliver the baby. He's constantly repeating what the reindeer doc says to you and at some point, when your pain reaches its peak, he even suggets reaching down and pulling the baby out of you with his own two hands lol

but once the first cries fill the rooms, he freezes up. It's done. Those nine months of worry, mood swings, suffering and cravings are finally over. A wave of relief washes over him as he smirks down at you, quietly saying how proud he is

however Zoro strongly refuses to hold his baby at first. He's genuinely scared he might drop it or accidentally crush it.

you and Chopper basically have to yell at him to get him out of his trance and convince the new father to take a look at his child

"Zoro, I did not go through hours of pain just so you can say no to holding our baby. For crying out loud, take your child!"

the second you put the baby into his arms Zoro's protective dad instincts kick in and now he refuses to let the child go again lmao

he's mustering the little one's face like some abstract oil painting, unable to tear his gaze from it and proudly recognizing all the similarities between the baby and its parents

luckily Zoro got some natural dad skills under his belt, and you both share the responsibilities evenly

he's never opposed to changing diapers or feeding the baby, even if the first annoys him sometimes. He also keeps the baby around himself 24/7- during workouts he puts it onto his back, when he wanders around the little one sits on his shoulders, and when he takes a nap on the desk the baby lies on his chest

all of the other Strawhats are more than welcome to take care of the baby from time to time and bond with the newest family crewmember to their heart's content. Well, that goes for everyone except Sanji. You better not let Zoro catch him handling the baby or a fight will break out-

[bi-rising]

hey I just saw your post about PCOS being a hormonal issue not a gyno one while I was surfing the tag. I was diagnosed a couple months back and all my gyno did was a 2 min ultrasound and then prescribed me birth control. I would like to have actual help and more info on it but I'm not sure who I'm supposed to go to for that. Seeing as you were in a similar situation I'd appreciate your help.

seems like gynos really suck with pcos, don't they? 🥴 warning you now, this is going to be a very long post, because i'm essentially writing out absolutely everything i did and everything i've learned, so strap in for a ride aldksfjasldf

the first thing to do is research, research, research. i spent a whole week constantly on pcos websites (such as pcosaa and this article, tho fair warning, the article does use academic speech so it might not be the easiest thing to read) and watching videos and doing what i could to inform myself. the way you can know if you're looking at a credible resource is how the source defines pcos: does it pose it as a reproductive system disorder? or an endocrine (hormonal) disorder? if it talks about it as a reproductive system disorder, then it's probably wrong.

please note that i am not, obviously, a medical professional, but this is how i understand pcos works. i'll use me as an example just so i can use first person perspective, but it applies to pcos patients in general.

so, my cells are insulin resistant. that means that when i eat, my body releases, lets say, 100 (x measurement) of insulin. because my cells are insulin resistant, they say "hey, i'm only gonna use 50x of that insulin". but they still NEED that 100x to function. so my body releases ANOTHER 100x of insulin, so my cells go "ok i'll take 50x" and so while my cells now have the 100x they're supposed, to i now have 100x insulin floating around.

that extra insulin not only wreaks havoc on many systems of the body, it is the reason why most people with pcos that goes untreated end up with type 2 diabetes. the extra insulin is also converted (or spurs the creation of? i'm not entirely certain on the how here) into testosterone and other androgen (male) hormones. so your body has too much insulin, and now it has too much testosterone, too. that extra testosterone is what fucks with your reproductive system and prevents the follicles on your ovaries from maturing (which is what the 'cysts' are). it also often creates increased facial hair, acne (especially on the 'beard line'), and worse body odor. between the testosterone and the insulin, it's nigh impossible to lose weight.

also note that because your body has to release more insulin for your cells to get an adequate amount, you likely crave carbs and sugars (salty/crunchy things and sweets), and you're likely frequently fatigued, bc your body isn't, well, working correctly and it's taking more energy to perform basic functions.

secondly, take all this information that you know to your doctor. i legitimately wrote down some notes about this process in a little notebook and took it with me so that i wouldn't forget/get too anxious to bring any of it up. i also wrote down the things i had been doing to help up to that point (working out, what my diet was, etc etc) and what i was concerned about. lastly, i also wrote down what medications and supplements i had heard of in my research to see what my doctor thought of them.

my doctor's first 'attack' choice is ozempic--it's a weekly shot that helps to regulate insulin levels and also is pretty good at helping weight loss. be aware though that most commercial insurances don't pay for this, but if your doctor is good, they'll try to work around that so that you're not paying a frankly outrageous amount for it. also look out for sometime this fall, my doc said that the ozempic manufacturers are trying to get ozempic approved for weight loss (it's approved for other things) and that should help bring the price down?? anyway, that's my doc's preferred method, but because of my finances, we currently can't do that.

his second attack, which i'm now on, is metformin. it's a medication mostly used for diabetics that helps with blood sugar levels which, again, is that insulin issue. my mom has been on it for 14 years bc diabetes runs in our family anyway, so it's perfectly safe for long time use and definitely helps with keeping either away from or within the pre-diabetes phase. again, i've only been on it now two days so i can't say anything for me but we'll see how it goes lmao

he also approved of me using omega 3 (fish pills) supplements because they help balance things out in general, not just pcos, and he was good with me using spearmint, too. i'm starting out on one cup of spearmint tea a day and see how that effects me, but i've heard of people having up to two spearmint supplement pills and a cup of spearmint tea a day, too. spearmint is a 'defense', as far as i can explain it: it has (tho limited) research that it lowers the testosterone levels in women with pcos. so while it doesn't help with the insulin so it doesn't attack the source, it can help with the testosterone aspect, aka facial hair, acne, etc. i've also heard of cinnamon supplements and inositol supplements helping, but i didn't get a chance to ask about either of those from my doctor, so make sure if you want to give those a try, you talk about them and make sure they won't interfere with any of your other medications and get your doctor's approval on them, first.

thirdly, ask about what else you can do to help yourself. my doctor stressed the importance of a proper night's sleep, as well as advised to try to cut back on carbs and sugars (IMPORTANT NOTE: some people claim that you HAVE to be on a keto diet to get results with pcos. WRONG. please don't do this. keto diets are entirely unsustainable. and cutting back on carbs and sugars does not mean cutting them OUT, it just means if you want a snack, try reaching for a protein or a vegetable instead of a carb. but don't limit yourself!! please, be conscious about what you eat, and remember that sometimes yeah, a slice of cake or a serving of chips isn't going to kill you or set your pcos back. don't risk getting an e.d. just for the sake of your pcos). he also told me that the best exercise that i personally should do is either HIIT exercises or cardio, and to do at least an hour a day, even if it's 30 mins in the morning, 30 in the evening--and to work up to that so even doing ten minutes a day, then increasing it from there, is healthier and better than jumping straight into a whole ass hour. he also told me to aim for a certain heartrate. i don't remember the formula he used, but for me at 22 (based on age) he wanted me to try to aim for 150-160 bpm. again, especially with exercise, that was what he recommended for me. you're likely different from me, so ask your doctor and see what he says.

fourthly, and perhaps most importantly, DON'T BOTHER WITH A GYNO. all of this that i've gotten done for me was from my family doctor, so just the guy i go to for yearly check ups. see if you can do some routine blood work to give him (or her) as wide of a picture as possible, and then go in and talk with a regular doctor about this. a friend of mine also has a friend who actually goes to an endocrinologist to get her pcos sorted out, so that's also an option. gynos seem to just treat the symptoms; birth control gives you a regular period by helping with your estrogen, but that doesn't decrease your testosterone OR do anything with the insulin. my doc is keeping me on birth control pills just so that i have a regular cycle so we can watch and see if anything else happens to it, so it's okay to stay on the birth control, but ultimately, birth control pills don't do anything for pcos.

i know it's difficult and probably kinda scary/anxiety inducing if you're younger or just have anxiety, but you've gotta advocate for yourself in this case. you have to show the doctor that you know what you're talking about and that you're able to call him out on his bullshit if he doesn't take you seriously. also, if your doctor is helpful, don't be afraid to be frank with him about what your gyno did. like i've said with my experience, i got the validation of knowing that my gyno was wrong by explaining to my doctor how he treated me. you deserve better than what your gyno did, and you deserve to actually be treated as a person and your disorder be taken seriously.

i'm wishing you the best of luck, and i hope that you'll be able to get the help that you need 💕💕💕

[autisticmob]

HELLO everyone i am now ten days out from my tiddy surgery so i think while everything is still fresh-ish in my mind I should get a rough timeline of how things went for me, just so anyone having similar stuff done in the future can have it as reference?? 

so under the cut is how shit went down, warning we are gonna be tmi about it for Max Information Dissemination, i will be talking about IV placement, Needles, Bleeding, Bruising, Bathroom Stuff In General, etc. so like. Be Warned.

OKAY SO what did i have done and how did i get it:

- i got a bilateral breast reduction with a “T,” “keyhole,” or “anchor-shaped” incision. this procedure, unlike double-incision top surgery, does not detach your nipples at all, but it DOES leave a decent hunk of breast tissue behind to avoid the nip graft. this connecting tissue keeps your nip attached and supplied with enough blood to survive. that means with this one, theres basically a limit to how much they can take off, and it depends on how big you are to start off with. 

- i went with the T-incisions because as a NB person, I wanted to sidestep the “gender-confirming surgery” route with my insurance. technically, I believe it would have been covered if i had gone through the process of talking to a therapist and getting a note that the surgery WOULD help confirm my gender, but i suspect it would have taken much longer, and I was afraid that my doctor and community resources would not have ended up approving me FOR the surgery since I don’t exactly fit the typical trans narrative. and luckily for me i had Massive, Spine-Bending G Cup Tiddies to contend with. so every doc that took a look at me said “yeah, you need those taken care of for medical reasons.” so i thought hey, let’s see how far this will get me!

- i talked to my primary care doc about my back pain and mentioned i’d like to look into a breast reduction, and she referred me to a local surgeon who could do the procedure. at the time i was still entertaining the idea of double-incision, but as it turned out, this surgeon just didnt do that. but i knew for certain my insurance would cover him, his results were good, and he was local, so i said yes to the T-incisions, which he said would likely get me down from a G to at least a C. it wasnt my ideal scenario admittedly, but frankly the back pain was getting to be too much, and i needed it to be addressed sooner rather than later.

- i had a consultation with the surgeon in early december, and they took pictures and measurements to send to my insurance so they could confirm the tits WERE in fact Too Bomb To Live. Doc said that it varies between insurance companies, but most will have a minimum amount of tissue that needs to be taken off, in grams, from each breast. he was like, “your insurance needs at least 1000g total removed, which’ll leave you on the small side, is that cool?” and i was like “My Man, take AS MUCH as you possibly can, im sick of these” and he was like “cool, makes my job easy then.” 

- it took my insurance like 1.5 to 2 months to get back to me, but late january the surgery place called me and we set a date for february 5th, 2020!!

PRE-OP:

- before i went into surgery, the hospital made me go over my medical history with them over the phone, informed me of all the risks, and gave me a special scrub kit to shower with at home for the last 2 days before the surgery

- fun fact this soap will make your whole bathroom and body smell strongly and exactly like a hospital and it is gross as hell if you hate hospital smell

- i also had to go to my primary care doc to get the OK that i was healthy enough to go under general anesthesia, and also get some blood tests and a urinalysis done. i fucked up the urinalysis tho (which is a whole other story) so i had to redo that the morning of the surgery when i got to the hospital anyway. 

- when i scheduled my surgery they also gave me a list of things i had to NOT DO before i went in. this included stuff like avoiding herbal medications and non-prescription supplements and not drinking any alcohol for like 2 weeks prior to surgery, and not eating anything after midnight the night before surgery.

- then it was SURGERY DAY!!!

- i went in with uhhh a LOT of anxiety about what everything would entail, ngl. i knew i had to do it because staring down the barrel of life with tiddies forever was way scarier than surgery, but yknow whenever you go under general anesthesia they legally do have to let you know that you could die and thats just a lot to consider, PLUS the whole thing involves just, really mangling your torso so like. its a lot! its okay to be scared!

- both my parents went with me for moral support which i appreciated a lot, but i didnt actually see them much since they had to spend a lot of it in the waiting room.

- when i went back with the doc they had me Wash The Tiddy Off with some antiseptic and change into a gown. i got some grippy socks out of the deal which is probably not a universal experience, but this hospital did it so shoutout to them for the socks i guess

- then they asked me all my medical history stuff again and checked me for any like, rashes or open sores or anything. i had some Tit Zits but they did not seem to be worried about that.

- then the surgeon came in and drew lines on me for the incisions. bro when i saw how high up my nips were gonna be i was losing my damn mind. this is one of the really exciting parts, because you finally get to really visualize what your end size is gonna be!! 

- once he was satisfied with how everything looked, they started really Prepping Me For Surgery.

- they hooked me up to a blood pressure cuff, a heart monitor, and some compression leg thingies that would inflate and deflate intermittently around my calves to help me not get blood clots. this felt weird but tbh also like kind of a nice massage

- then the iv placement. bro im not lying when i tell you this is the worst part. the nurse numbed me with some lidocaine before placing the needle and let me tell you that shit HURTED. lidocaine Stings and Burns when it hits and this was arguably the most painful part. but the good news about that is it means nothing else after that is all that bad. and i got THREE lidocaine shots because these two nurses could NOT find my blood anywhere. they finally called in their ringer (an EMT named kirk, s/o to kirk) who got that sucker in my arm with NO numbing and NO pain in like, 2 fucking seconds. i pray you all have a kirk. kirk knows where your fucking blood is and hes not gonna fuck around getting to it because he JUST wrestled a drunk dude into an ambulance like an hour ago and compared to that this is nothing. kirk had sleeveless scrubs. im obsessed. anyway.

- then they put a plastic, inflatable, heated blanket over me? it was between two regular blankets so it wasnt as uncomfortable as you might imagine, but it was strange. warm tho so that was nice.

- THEN they wheeled my bed down to surgery. i was having so much anxiety at this point it was like... dreamlike. getting wheeled into the OR was just surreal. i was like, no thoughts head empty, just taking everything in.

- once i got there the surgical team was very cool about keeping me calm tho. they were playing their like, pump-up music and one of the guys was like “hey fyi about halfway thru the surgery we will be turning the lights off and having a rave, just in the interest of full disclosure. promise not to leave any glowsticks in there tho” and i was like what no i would LOVE glowstick tiddies

- i had to kinda roll from my bed onto the operating table, which was significantly harder and smaller. that kinda made things feel real, so i got a little more anxious at that point.

- to help me calm down they had me breathe in some straightup oxygen thru a mask while they hooked my iv to the fluids and such, and the guy was like “WHOA you got some lungs on you dude” and i was like yeah thanks im recovering from hyperventilating

- then they let the anesthesia into the iv, letting me know the whole time what was happening, talking to me until i was just OUT, which was not a lot of conversation time because i was out in like 5 seconds or less. they didnt make me count down or anything, but i promise you it was nigh instantaneous.

POST OP

- it really was instantaneous. i know everyone says that but it really is the truth, it feels like the whole thing takes seconds. like one moment youre laying there in the OR feeling the drugs Hit, and the next youre waking up in the little wake-up room feelin kinda groggy with a nurse talking to you, and youre still druggy so youre just rambling to her about how fucked your voice sounds right now and as soon as shes contented that youre basically lucid they start wheeling you to your room where youll ACTUALLY stay while you recover.

- THE THING I WAS THE LEAST PREPARED FOR WAS MY THROAT

- your throat will Hurt afterwards, but even more than that, you will be producing So Much Mucus. my surgery took about 2 hours and during that time, all my muscles were paralyzed by the anesthesia, including my lungs, so i was on a breathing tube. my throat, understandably, hated this, and started producing Gallons Of Fucking Mucus to protect itself. it then continued to do this for the next two days or so. the nurses were encouraging me to breathe deep and cough Hard to combat this, and avoid getting pneumonia, so i did. but THAT hurt the tiddies. it was really a vicious cycle. but its necessary because god if i had to have pneumonia on top of all the other recovery shit?? god. 0/10 wouldnt recommend. so it might hurt but dont worry your tiddies wont bust open or anything.

- i spent basically the rest of the day still hooked up to all the machines i listed earlier, PLUS a thing that would beep at me if my heart rate went too high, which it did a lot because i have anxiety, but luckily the nurses didnt seem too concerned. it really kept my breathing on track though because if i didnt breathe deep enough my heart would shoot up super fast and it’d beep and god that was just annoying and im pretty sure that was The Point. you kinda have to get used to breathing again, and the beeping trained me.

- they gave me like a bunch of crackers and a huge mug of water to work on at my leisure. i actually had lunch pretty quick after waking up? i know a lot of people have nausea issues from anesthesia but i didnt experience any of that. i DID move like a fucking sloth while i was eating tho. the pain meds and general grogginess of recovery slowed my whole body down sooooo much. my mom was actually like “are you okay??? like neurologically??????” and i was, totally, i was just. on slo-mo.

- anyway i didnt have to get catheterized for this procedure thankfully but they DID make me measure my pee every time i went to the bathroom. like i had to pee in a little bucket attached to the toilet and the nurse had to come check it every time and i felt really weird about that. so idk just be prepared for that i guess lmao

- also idk if it was the pain meds or the anesthesia itself but post-op, i couldnt shit for like a week. the constipation is real so get u some fucking laxatives asap when you get home, this is not a joke lmao

- they also had me put on a belt every time i got up so the nurse could hold onto me in case i decided to fucking biff it. they got me up a couple times throughout the day/night to walk up and down the hallway outside and get my body used to being upright again

- oh speaking of i never got to lie down completely flat, they had my bed locked at like a 30 degree angle minimum to help with... something. im not quite sure what, but im not gonna question it

- when i got up the next morning they had a couple nurses come in and help me un-bandage so i could shower and finally look at what the tiddies looked like for the first time!! and it was exciting but i didnt cry like i expected lmao i think i was too drained and too distracted by the bleeding

- the bleeding wasnt too bad actually, just little beads kinda coming out of parts of the incisions between the stitches. but once i got in the shower obviously stuff started getting diluted in the water and it looked like a lot more than there actually was, so dont be alarmed by that! 

- SHOWERING: its a little complicated. youre not supposed to soak the incisions, and youre not supposed to apply direct water pressure or actually touch them at this point. so what i had to do was get a washcloth wet and soapy (with antibacterial soap, i think it was hand soap honestly. hand soap’s what ive been using at home so........) and then just kinda. squeeze it at your collarbone and let it drip down over everything kinda minimally. its kind of a process but it works fine. washing your hair and like, tbh literally everything else is gonna be hard. reaching over your head is hard and scary at this point. i will admit my hair care Suffered the first week. 

- then i got bandaged back up and they got me back into my own clothes and ready to go home! they also put a bra on me over the bandages in my new size. i was only there for about 24 hours total, since i didnt really have any complications. 

- on the ride home i had to make sure the cross-chest part of the seat belt was NOT touching me. if whoevers driving you hits a pothole, your soul WILL exit your body tits-first for a moment. im sorry if you live somewhere like here in nebraska where the roads are garbage but its not gonna be fun.

ONCE YOU’RE HOME!!

- i live at home with my mom and sister and if you live alone, id try to have a friend basically move in for the first week. you will need Help with things. basic things. you’ll mostly want to sleep because of the pain meds but those made me pretty dizzy so it was cool having my mom around in case i like. fell on the way to the bathroom and died or anything like that.

- changing bandages is really kind of a 2-person affair too, and youll have to do it at least once a day post-shower, so keep that in mind. 

- the bleeding is like, not that bad after that first day honestly. i never had to change the bandages more than just the once per day. 

- basically from here the procedure is just to take it easy, get up every few hours and walk around a little to keep the blood clots at bay, and enjoy yr new silhouette basically

- worst thing about recovery honestly? im a stomach/side sleeper, and i cant manage anything other than laying flat on my back with my arms at my sides right now, and thats just like.... idk i really cant sleep like that. its not comfy. ive had to set up kind of a pillow fort around me to keep me from rolling over in my sleep bc im afraid i might hurt myself accidentally like that, but idk how well-founded that fear is.

- i will say as someone who did have back problems before this, the difference is IMMEDIATE. i literally had better posture like Day 1. im still a little hunched over because the stitches create a bit of tension in your chest, but like literally it was instantaneous. god. once i got healed to a point that i could like, kinda relax and not be so fucking tense all the time? back pain has basically just been GONE. 

- other fun things to notice: i had some pretty significant stretch marks before, and now they are running in a completely different direction. i crossed my arms over my chest the other day and they actually touched my torso for the first time in like, well over a decade. if i close my eyes and try to grab my tiddy from muscle memory, i stop like a full 3 inches from where my tit actually starts now. the size i am now, just like, freeballing it? this is how i looked when i wore a binder before. if i wore a binder now i imagine id be completely flat, and honestly if i layer up at this point you cant really tell that i have anything more than the average chubby dude’s moobs, which as a kinda chubby person is totally fine. 

its a trip relearning what i look like and what im supposed to feel like but its just. such a fucking improvement over where i was. absolutely no regrets, regardless of how hard recovery has felt at times. anyway i hope this information is at least interesting and maybe helpful to anybody considering anything similar!!

[suepixels]

19 |  Mood Swings  [🔗]

At RJ’s

45 minutes later both come down. RJ is in a better mood than earlier this day.

RJ: Hey Man, what did you do the whole time alone? Hungry? Should I order some pizza? Ready for tonight? London baffled: RJ? RJ lightly: Yes right here. London skeptical: You seem a little bit too happy, after earlier this day? RJ: I am fine, I had a good sleep for the first time since they passed. Can you all stop being so caring? For fuck sake, I’m fine. London surprised: Oh, okay, if you feel fine. RJ pulls a face: I feel good, man, don’t worry. London looks at Dr. Darrington. Dr. Darrington calm: Mr. Crawford, no worries. Mr. Holmes is currently only experiencing a rough time and due to the fact that he didn’t eat much, he didn’t drink enough and simply because he is physically tired this caused his breakdown, today. His current situation is the reason for his unstable mood swings. I gave him a vitamin boost because the sudden faintness he had earlier today is a result of being extremely exhausted and drained. Mr. Holmes, I advise you not to drink alcohol in your current situation, even tho I’m certain you don’t want to listen. If you continue to torture yourself mentally and physically it can end up in a depression and that could lead to medication and talk treatment. RJ relaxed: Depression and Talk treatment because I want a night out? Doc, are you serious? You know that I recently lost my family, right? Let me grieve, geez. My father is overreacting, what did he tell you? Dr. Darrington: Well, he told me to make sure that you are fine. RJ easy: I am fine, you can forward that message to him. London serious: I still think you should take it easy, RJ! Dr. Darrington: Do you feel comfortable Mr. Holmes, if we talk about your situation in front of Mr. Crawford?

RJ smirks, everybody is worried about him and he starts to feel annoyed by being treated as if he could not handle himself. He lays his hands on his hips waiting to see what kind of nonsense the Doc is going to say.

RJ annoyed: Sure, talk free, he is my best friend! Dr. Darrington: Okay, let me frame it this way, Mr. Crawford. I do understand your concerns. He should take it easy, especially after his earlier breakdown. Mr. Holmes, you have to confess that you are currently in a fragile situation. I will check on you next week again as we just talked about it upstairs because if you remain in this depressive phase we might need to consider counseling and antidepressant medication. RJ smiles: London do you hear that? My fragile situation? Come on, Doc. I’m not fragile, just a bit down for fuck's sake. I’m allowed to feel that way. You guys do remember that I lost the love of my life along with my children. Picture this a Holmes is fragile, isn’t it funny? Doc I recommend you not to say such things to a Holmes and especially not towards my father. Dr. Darrington: Your father doesn’t pay me to shut up my mouth. He pays me to recommend treatment if needed. I did not say you need it now but you should recover from that loss soon and if you don’t we would need to take it seriously and fix it before it gets serious and the situation drags you into a depressive phase you have a tendency to go there. RJ: I heard enough! I’m honestly not in a mood to keep talking about this bullshit. London serious: RJ, we need you back in business fit and in shape! As you know we won the pitch and the Committee needs your drafts, soon. Do you think you can come back soon? I mean if you are up for a night out, I guess you are willing to socialize again, so this is a good sign, right Dr. Darrington? Dr. Darrington uncomfortable: Huh? It shows Mr. Holmes is willing to socialize again that’s why I believe he will be fine again  I will leave now and I will report to your father that you are currently fine but further medical advice is recommended. My work is done for today and Mr. Holmes please reach out if you need me.

After the doctor left, RJ turns around to London. RJ slightly annoyed: London, to be honest, I don’t care what he said. I’m on the role for a night out. Don’t worry I will start next week with the drafts but this week I want to do the hell I want! I called Manny and Nicky to make sure that they are coming with us. We will meet up uptown. Nicky said he has a cool spot “Ginger & Gin” in mind we’re going to check out, Rockstarrz is canceled tonight. London: Yeah, I hear you. I just hope you’re not going to get drunk tonight, RJ. All good and glad to hear that you will come back next week, I was about to talk to the Vice President to skip the project. RJ serious: We aren’t skipping anything, London. Don’t worry I will finish the fucking drafts. Can we go back to the brighter things of life? Like talking about tonight?

London wasn’t so keen that RJ is ignoring the facts the doctor said. Also, he had earlier this mental breakdown, it seems like RJ is in denial. Three weeks felt, in fact, more like several months and it was visible that RJ was in a fragile state. Instead of grieving he is dark and has those unusual mood swings more than usual. At times he seems extremely cheerful and switches to dark almost kinda dangerous mood swings as if he would explode in rage. London knows if RJ’s gets drunk tonight...RJ will hate himself the day after.

START | PREVIOUS | NEXT

[ittookthelightforever]

Sometimes perfect is not enough (TW)

Hi,

Ok, so I have been affected by all this that is happening in the fandom and if you want to remain out of it this is where you stop reading.

This is a sad one, this isn’t nice and you might hate it or, hopefully, understand it and like it. I started writing and before I even knew I had half the story outlined. Think of this as a story inspired by The Last 5 Years (genius musical) way of presenting a plot.

Love, Lina

Source

You had watched the concert that night from the media pit, you needed to see him one last time in his full glory before you did it and now alone in his dressing room before the after party seemed like as any. “I can’t do this anymore.”

*two years ago*

“You may wait in the surgery, Doctor will be right with you.” Alex got up from the waiting-room chair and followed the nurse into the surgery where he sat on the examination table, quite used to this routine. The door opens and in you walk, dressed smartly in tailored pants and blouse with your white lab coat on top, “Hello Mr… Turner. How are we feeling?” Alex pouted and wrapped a hand around his throat, he hated being sick, “I fink I ‘ave a *cof* sore throat.” You put on your gloves and started the examination, “Poor fella, let’s get you better.”

You do the regular examination, checking his throat and ears, heart and lungs. “Well, it seems you have quite the nasty chest infection, Mr. Turner.” You pick up your prescription pad, “Unfortunatelleh used to ‘em.” Alex had been dreading this diagnosis, which meant he’d have to postpone this week’s sessions, “I am sorry to hear that, is it related to your profession? There might be a prolonged treatment we could try to minimize recurrence.” Alex shakes his head, pulling his t-shirt back down.

“I am a singer, don’t fink they’ve invented a cure to damage caused by crooning around every night.” You can’t help but giggle at his answer, “Ok, so you know the drill. I’ll prescribe you some antibiotics and an anti-inflammatory, with the recommendation not to use any heavy machinery, keeping driving to a minimal and stay in bed with hot cups of tea. No need to stay no singing right?” Alex shook his head and took the prescription notes you handed to him, “Oh and if you need anything, here’s my card.”

Alex looks up from the drink he was mixing to you, “Wot?” You shake your head, “I-I, I didn’t… For a long time I didn’t know how to say this, but I can’t do this anymore, Al. I can’t.” Your voice is shaking and you are struggling to hold back the tears, “We need to break up.” He gets up for his seat, nearly knocking back the table and causing the drink to topple onto the floor, but he doesn’t seem to care, “What do yeh mean me love?” Alex hugs you, trying to comfort you as he had numerous times.

You push him away lightly, it was crucial to maintain  a certain distance and not get pulled back into his orbit, “I mean that we need to break up, that I can’t do this any longer.” He looks at you and the hurt is what gets to you like a knife in the stomach, there is a glimmer in his eyes that foreshadows his feelings about breaking up. Alex blinks back the tears, clearly bewildered, “But why? I-I love yeh so much and you, do you? Why?” You knew this was going to be the hardest part, but you had never imagined it would be this awful.

“Come here.” You sit on the couch and pat the cushion next you, as he seats you can see there are tears running down his face to match the ones you weren’t able to hold back, “I do love you, Alex. More than I had ever imagined I would ever love someone.” He looks at you confused and you can’t help but smile at his expressions, “You are the kindest, most intelligent and hard-working person I have ever met. There is nothing you won’t do to make sure the people around are happy or that your project is finished, and that is truly unique. But I-I, I don’t think this is gonna work for me.”

*Two years ago*

“Hello?” You were used to unnamed calls due to your many private patients, this was LA after all and a good nose and throat doctor was high currency, “ ‘ello, it’s Alex… Alex Turner.” You smile and stop arranging the papers on your table to pay him full attention, “Hi Mr. Turner. How are you feeling?” Alex was nervous on the other side, it had been a while since he asked someone out who wasn’t a model or another musician, “Better, much better actualleh. Fanks to yeh.”

“I am glad to hear. Is there anything I can help you with?” You kept it nice and professional, you had learned quickly how the Hollywood industry worked, “I-I actualleh wanted to ask if yeh were available. For a date… Wiv me?” You found him endearing and quite handsome, but putting your career in jeopardy wasn’t something you were willing to do for any cute singer that popped into your office, “Mr. Turner, I’m afraid that violates my professional code as it wouldn’t be professional of me to go out with a patient. You do understand, Mr. Turner?”

“Yeh, I do… ‘m sorreh. Thanks doc.” You hang up and waste a few moments thinking of what could’ve been before going back to your work. The rest of the afternoon goes by rather fast and you are looking forward to a drink and some chilling when you got to your apartment later. After you locked up your surgery, you walk out to find a person sitting in the waiting room, “Excuse me, we are closed, you should return tomorrow.”

The person gets up and you realize it’s Alex, “I’m sorry, love. I kno’ yeh said yeh didn’t fink it was professional, but please let me prove yeh otherwise… Even if this was a bit creepeh.” You take in the sight of him wearing his well-fitting black jeans and black leather jacket combo and you can’t believe what you say next, “Okay. But you can no longer be my patient got it?” He nodded smiling.

You take his hand, holding it tight and cherishing the feeling of his calloused fingers one more time, “Remember how it was when we first started dating? The media all over our business, the pressure from the fans. It was so hard to settle into this new life, remember?” He nodded, “But weh worked through it, didn’t weh? Do yeh still feel like that?” You knew this would be the hardest part and it broke your heart to do this.

“Alex, you have this beautiful life you’ve built for yourself, but I don’t feel like I can ever be a part of it because it doesn’t feel real. You spend whole periods of your life rushing to record music and then tour it, with the parties and the media to boot. I don’t feel like I fit into it as anything more than a nice sidekick to fix any mundane problems and to look good by your side.” He shook his head vehemently, “Tha’s not true! I never treated yeh like tha’.”

*6 months ago*

The photographers narrowed in on you and Alex as you crossed the Brit Awards red carpet, but after a few pictures together you were lead away from the main carpet by one of the crew and stood there with the other Monkeys’ wives and normally that wouldn’t bother you, you loved watching Alex and the boys doing their thing, but you’d caught a red eye to London the night before and you were having trouble withstanding the usual girl talk about kids and the usual affairs of the other lovely girls.

“Love, Forrest has this cough that just won’t go away. Do you think you can take a look at him tomorrow at lunch?” You smiled at Katie as politely as possible given your irritability levels, it wasn’t the poor mother’s fault, “Of course!” You had gotten used to being a doctor 24/7, because there’d always be a friend needing a hand. “Oh dear, we didn’t even ask, how are you feeling? I saw those things all over instagram.” Breana touches the one subject you had been trying to avoid.

During your vacation with Alex in the south of France the paparazzi had taken a few pictures of you and him in your bathing suits making out on the sand. The backlash about your body and total slut shaming had been nearly unbearable, you had spent countless nights alone pacing through the house thinking of all the consequences that could bear on your work. Alex had been furious, nearly fired his publicist but you knew that wouldn’t help, so you just tried to ride out the result of a couple of pictures, all because you didn’t have the perfect body people would associate with someone like Alex.

You snap out of your daydream and back to reality, “I’m better, Bre, it was… Hard. But we are good now.” She smiles and squeezes your hand, “I know it can be though sometimes, they are worth it tho.” Breana and you look back to the boys, who are now coming your way and you smile, thinking ‘yeah, he is worth it.’

“I know, you haven’t but so many other people have. I had to learn how to withstand being in the same spotlight as you, do you remember how it felt when you thrown into it?” Alex nods, raising a hand to wipe the tears that were streaming down your face, “You got into it with your beautiful work to support you and I am just the lousy girlfriend. I-I never told you how our relationship affected my work, but I don’t want to sacrifice my career to live under your light, I’m sorry.”

*Back to when Alex was writing TBHC*

You put a bowl of mac n’cheese on the table in front of where Alex was working, “Wots dis?” Taking a deep breath you resist the urge to fight with him, “Food, Alex. Remember what food looks like?” He scoffs and pushes it away, picking up his x-acto knife again, “ ‘m no ‘ungry, love. Maybeh later.” You put a hand over his and stop his movement, making him look at you, “Alex, you haven’t eaten all day. Everyday I go out to work and come back you are in this room. You’ve lost a ridiculous amount of weight, please eat this.”

Alex pushes his chair back and faces you, “I’m fine, love. I promise yeh.” He pulls you down for a kiss and you just can’t resist, “Alex, I love you, please. I am worried about you, you won’t eat and you barely sleep. Please.” You look him into the eyes and can’t hold back the tears, “Please, I am scared.” His face turns somber and he nods curtly, “Ok, me love. I promise yeh I’m okay and I’ll do better.” You brush his hair away from his face, cradling him close to you.

Alex swallowed thick, “W-Why didn’t yeh ever tell me that love?” You laugh through your tears, shoulders shaking with each sob, “I tried, but when could I tell you? When I had to be the one to remind you to eat when you hadn’t in more than a day or go to sleep after 17 hours in your studio? Or when you were away for months touring?” You take his face in your hands, wiping at the tears with your thumbs, “I cannot be the one to save you, my love. You have to do that by yourself. I am only a woman. I need someone who will give as much as I do. And I don’t mean money, I need someone who I know has the same disposition for a relationship as I do and I think we are not quite there yet.”

You kiss his forehead and pull back to look into his deep brown eyes, “Is this tha end then? Is there anyfing I can say that’d make yeh stay?” You nod slowly no and he embraces you, wrapping a hand at the base of your skull as he always had and pulls you into a kiss. It’s so bittersweet, to think that his will be the last kiss you ever share and, still, it feels so good. “I will always love and care for you, Alex.” He nods, “And I yeh, me love.” You do the hard part and get up, “I’ll have my stuff out by the end of the week, ok?”

“Take yehr time, love.” You nod and turn around to face the door, getting out without looking back and walking out of that venue with your head held high, knowing you did the right thing for both of you. You manage to hold your tears until you get into a cab, straight to your best friend’s house and away from the one you had to let go.  

[cabinboy100]

BABY DRIVER: Take a Ride w/Edgar Wright's Rockin' Wheelman

Thanks to the Brattle Theatre and the Independent Film Festival of Boston, I got to watch BABY DRIVER at an advance screening last week!

It is a gorgeous musical roller coaster ride of a film. Writer and director Edgar Wright supercharges another beloved cinematic icon-slash-genre—the Wheelman or Driver—with his remarkable style, vision, wit, and rhythm. While not *a* musical, per se, BABY DRIVER is very musical, delivering snappy dialogue, sharp looks, slick moves, death-defying driving, and brutal gunplay, all choreographed to a soundtrack beautifully interwoven with the film…

There's not a lot more to say, really, beyond additional superlatives upon superlatives, and I don't want to go into scenes or characters too deeply and give up any of the fun. I think I'll just let one of the trailers do the talking…

Bottom line—GO SEE THIS MOVIE! And see it IN THE THEATER!

[rant] And for Space Pope's sake, do NOT take your phone out for any reason while the movie is running. You just paid $10 to $20 for this amazing experience! We live in an age of wonder that allows you to ignore a movie for free at home. Save the spacebooking, twitting, and txting for later. Or if you're gonna do that, or even look at a message on your annoyingly-bright-in-a-darkened-theater phone, get out of your seat, walk to an exit, behind a barrier, or *maybe* the back wall, out of anyone's view, and then have a look, respond if you must, and get back to the show. If you're waiting on your wife to finish delivering, or the funeral parlor's supposed to call about Pop's arrangements, or you're expecting a call from the doctor with those test results—WTF are you doing at the movies? If your phone lights up and you can see it, believe me, everyone next to and behind you can see it. Keep it in your pocket. If you see someone next to or near you futzing w/a screen, do everyone a favor, be your own (and my) hero, and ask them to put it away or take it outside. [/rant]

Beware, beyond this point, I'm gonna start lobbing spoilers into my rambling. So, exit pursued by a bear now if you haven't seen BABY DRIVER already!

CRITS (oh-so-minor, probably more like backhanded compliments).

I don't feel the heart in this that I do in the Cornetto films. Those films—SHAUN OF THE DEAD, HOT FUZZ, THE WORLD'S END—had relationships at their centers. But I have to say that my not feeling that with BABY DRIVER is very fair and true to the driver genre. You don't get the warm fuzzies thinking about BULLITT, THE BLUES BROTHERS, or THE FRENCH CONNECTION, right? Well, okay, maybe THE BLUES BROTHERS. =)

The characters tend to be flat and archetypal, taking a back seat *sorry-not-sorry* to the action and style. Wright does get me rooting for some of the baddies along the way, because of their professionalism, circumstance, charisma, and, well, moral relativism. And while they may be flat, they own their two dimensions and are memorable, essential, love- and hate-able in their own ways.

Of course, we know who we're rooting for—our Baby on board.

Maybe this isn't fair to BABY DRIVER, but I'd *just* seen Walter Hill's THE DRIVER, right before it, and was so frickin' impressed with its style and tension and story-slash-chase-telling cinematography. I found myself wanting more from the final car-v-car showdown in BABY. I feel like both Wright's BABY DRIVER and Refn's DRIVE put their tightest and tautest chase set piece at the start of their films. They are a-ma-zing intros to each film experience, but greedy me, I want even higher peaks in the middle and the end.

Oh, don't get me wrong—there ARE more peaks, gorgeously choreographed, executed, shot, and edited peaks, throughout. It's been a week now and I still feel my thoughts are vibrating from the experience.

I'm gonna see it again, so maybe I'll revisit this notion of the "starting with dessert" problem, if that's what it is. Maybe it was having THE DRIVER on my palate affecting my perspective…

LOVES.

I love the reason that Baby is always listening to his music. I don't know which movie or story first used music as a way to time and count off the steps to a heist—at the moment I can only think of HUDSON HAWK =) —but I was almost surprised that that seemed to be what was happening with Baby's character in the film's opening chase scene (w/Buddy, Darling, and Griff). It almost seemed too, well, easy…y'know, for Edgar Wright. But it *is* Edgar Wright, so we know he's gonna do something brilliant with it.

Yeah, I know. Sometimes I wish I could watch a movie with my 9-yo brain, and not think so much.

Then we see Baby on his apparently regular walk to Octane coffee, and in a beautiful "Harlem Shuffle" music video starring Baby against the graffiti of Atlanta streets, we learn that music permeates every moment of Baby's life. Man, when Debora walks by outside the shop in front of the rainbow heart—so simply perfect. =)

And I'm pretty sure that when he retraces his steps, "Shake Shake" has been added to a column or wall that had "Right" on the way in.

Later we learn that there's more method to Baby's madness for music. Doc explains that he suffers from tinnitus, and music helps keep the ringing in his ears at bay. Later still, we learn that he has a habit of recording much of what he hears, using the audio as samples in musical creations of his own. I really wish we'd been able to see him create some more of those, and/or hear more from his extensive library.

WRIGHTS.

Some little bits of fun that I feel are somehow Wright-ian, whether intended by the director or not. =)

J.D., of Bats's crew, is given a simple assignment—pick up three HALLOWEEN Michael Myers masks for use in the robbery. What does he show up with? Three Mike Myers (as Austin Powers) Halloween masks. When questioned about his cluelessness, one of the gang tries to clarify—The Bad Guy from HALLOWEEN, the movie! To which he replies—Oh! You mean Jason! And hey—What's Buddy's real name? Jason! As in Jason from FRIDAY THE 13th? As in the guy who keeps getting killed by never dies?

(This exchange inspired me to goof a BABY DRIVER: Halloween the 13th meta-mashup poster = )

And what's Baby's real name? M I L E S of course!

Hrm…Good thing Wright didn't make this movie on the continent somewhere or in Canada or his name would've been Kilometers! *groan*

Bananas! Doc reveals that's the phone call confirmation code word he receives from his contacts after a successful interaction. Darling reacts to the playing of one of Baby's tapes—"Is he slow?"—with B-A-N-A-N-A-S. When the Butcher's Atlanta PD colleagues show up for revenge on Doc, they give him the code word—"Bananas!"—along with some hot lead.

The invisible camera returns! In WORLD'S END, Wright shoots a scene between Simon Pegg and Rosamund Pike in the restroom of a pub with the camera pointed squarely at the mirror on the wall. Sure, it could be digital magic, but I can't help but wonder if Wright has pulled off some practical magic. Just the right lighting combined with a glass plate at the correct complementary angle or something? Well, whatever he did then, he does again in…I want to say at least two shots—maybe three, with reflections in a car exterior?—in BABY DRIVER. My lame brain is now only recalling one, tho, in a pan across the washing machines of a laundromat, a sweet bit of Courtship, American Style.

Yeah, probably some "simple" digital trickery…But maybe only for the last 10% that some Houdini-like stage magic couldn't quite cover? I want to know but don't want to. =)

And speaking of courtship—I kind of adore how Baby sharing his earbuds with Debora physically connects them while they're moving around the laundromat and talking. It turns their conversation into a sweet dance number. A bit of Wright magic.

Becky & Ella? In the elevator down to P1, P2, and P3 after the first job, Buddy promises to take Darling to Bacchanalia, for the best wining and dining around, or something to that effect. When Debora presses Baby for an idea on where they'll go out, he tells her what sounds like "Becky and Ella" for the best wining and dining around. NB: Found out Bacchanalia *is* an actual ATL restaurant, but I don't believe we ever see its name or signage on screen.

I WONDER…

About the "Spirit of 85" or whatever it was called. Doc mentions it to help establish Baby's cred. Apparently Baby tied the Atlanta PD in knots on what sounded like a crazy prolonged chase involving a cloverleaf interchange of highways. I think the word "spaghetti" was used? No doubt native Atlantans will appreciate the description of the feat. Baby's Kessel Run? =)

Oh, man! Who is responsible for Baby's wardrobe? For half if not most of the film, he is strategically yet uncannily decked out in duds that scream "Han Solo" to me. I'm talking A NEW HOPE—black vest over white shirt with dark pants.

(Baby’s taste in clothes—as well as his backstory and talents—inspired this BABY DRIVER: Nerf Herder mashup… =)

After the film, I was told that our Baby, Ansel Elgort, had been on the short list for the young Han Solo film. I honestly had no idea as I did and do my best to block that sort of "news" as much as possible when it comes to films I'm looking forward to.

Was this Wright, Elgort, or another member or members of the crew expressing their support for HANsel? I have no idea how the timelines of young Solo casting and BABY DRIVER shooting line up. But if the decision was made before shooting, maybe Ansel’s turn as Baby becomes a kind of what-could-have-been/what-you-missed strutting? =)

When I heard about the LEGO MOVIE directors being dismissed from the project, I thought that maybe they'd seen BABY DRIVER and realized that Edgar Wright had already made the movie—what's the point now? =)

And in the Hollywood minute before Ron Howard was announced, I wondered if maybe BABY DRIVER might possibly be the perfect proof of capabilities for Wright as the new director. Alas—*sigh*—not to be.

I wonder just what the heck happened with Disney/Marvel/ANT-MAN and Wright.

CINEMA SERENDIPITY…

I love it when my experience of films and shows connect in little unexpected ways…

Last week, I got to see Edgar Wright's amazing action jukebox, BABY DRIVER. The next night, I caught Kumail Nanjani and Emily Gordon's hilarious, heart-warming and -punching rom-coma-com, THE BIG SICK. And tonight, a week later, experienced Bong Joon Ho's OKJA on the big screen before it streams on Netflix.

Yeah, none of that connects on paper, but in my head it's a different story… =)

In THE BIG SICK, Kumail and Emily's non-dating dates reveal his obsession with cricket and appreciation of zombies, which of course would logically add up to a SHAUN OF THE DEAD poster on his bedroom wall. That's some solid math, and reminded me that I've followed some twitter exchanges between them about movies (about ROGUE ONE, Riz Ahmed, representation, and a buddy heist film).

The content of OKJA does not directly connect to anything Wrightian (as far as I could tell on a first viewing), but Bong Joon Ho's previous film, the must-see sci-fi fable SNOWPIERCER, features Jamie Bell as a character named Edgar, apparently named for Wright. That note, plus the fact that Edgar was best buddy of Chris Evans's Curtis, inspired a couple of mashup posters, one of them a meta-mashup starring SCOTT PILGRIM's Lucas Lee.

Yeah, like I said…it's all in my head.

Why do I have a feeling like this will be read back to me in court at a later date?

BABY DRIVER AT AN ADVANCE SCREENING…?

Oh—how did I get to see all these films in the theater? And before their wide release dates? The Brattle Theatre and the Independent Film Festival of Boston are my enablers-slash-suppliers. If you're Boston-local and love moviegoing, I *highly* recommend you check their schedules and membership privileges, join/donate/support either or both, and see some amazing movies!

Allright, enough a-ramblin'. If you made it this far, I'm sorry and thanks much. Now, get thee to the theater and BABY DRIVER up!

Keep on keepin’ on~

[lesbrarians]

Junkrat/Roadhog:: Origins Ch. 16

This is the penultimate chapter! The final chapter should be posted sometime on Monday night. I feel that I should warn you guys about this chapter, tho -- there is a scene that, while it is consensual, cannnn be read as dubcon so proceed with caution if that's something that disturbs you (I promise it turns out fine, if that helps)!

Title: Origins

Characters: Junkrat, Roadhog

Rating: R

Summary: The origins of Junkrat and Roadhog. Junkrat finds a mysterious treasure in the nuclear wasteland of the Australian Outback and quickly finds himself a target. When a hitman is sent to kill him, he convinces the man to become his personal bodyguard in exchange for half the spoils. Their ensuing crime spree could be legendary – if they can get over the initial bad blood between them. Can also be found on AO3 if you prefer reading it there!

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen

---

For the first time since arriving at prison, Junkrat felt at ease. Beginning work on his new bombs relaxed him. Home was where he could build explosives, after all.

He twisted off one of the metal fingers on his mechanical arm to expose the screwdriver beneath it. He’d added screwdriver heads to the last joints of his internal skeleton for added functionality, and it was proving incredibly useful when he was without his usual tools. He unscrewed the back of the radio and selected the wires that he would attach to one of his D batteries before screwing it back together. He went back to grinding the flammable powder off of the match heads. He’d converted the pipe into a container by fixing a scrap of blanket around one end with a piece of elastic from the wristband of his jumpsuit.

“Po-lice!” the block’s sentry shouted from his cell, and he hissed, stuffing his supplies in an empty cereal box. He really needed a better hiding spot, but hopefully he would be out of the joint before it became a necessity.

The footsteps of the correctional officer stopped outside his cell. “Fawkes! You’ve got a visitor.”

Confused, Junkrat turned to Thatcher, then pointed at his own chest. “What, me?”

“Who the fuck else? Is there anyone else by that name in this cell that I should know about? Hands out.”

The door to his cell slid open, and Junkrat dutifully let himself be shackled and led to the visiting room. It resembled a metal box, with a sheet of glass separating inmates from the visiting party. Ava was sitting at the desk that straddled both sides of the room. Junkrat sat down on his side and picked up the phone to speak with her through the glass.

“Doc? Why ya visitin’ me -- not that I’m complainin’, but I woulda thought you’d visit Roadhog first.”

“Yeah, I asked for him, but get this, they said I’m not on his list of approved visitors! I told them they could go stuff it, but they wouldn’t budge, so here I am.”

Junkrat blinked at her. “What, do they know the both of ya were in the Australian Liberation Front?”

Ava gave a delicate shrug. “Beats me. Either they have a bone to pick with him, or they know we have a shady history together and don’t want me seeing him. So I’m here to visit my good friend Junkrat instead! Thought you might want to talk to someone on the outside after, you know, losing everything you worked for.”

“Yeah, about that--” Junkrat started, then paused as Ava’s eyes darted upward. He followed her gaze to the security camera fixated on them. Ava tapped the side of her nose with her finger. Junkrat had no idea what the gesture signified. He carried on, being mindful of his words now that he realized that they were being recorded. “What they do with all my shit anyway?”

“Evidence, probably,” Ava said. “Last I heard, there was a big storage unit in their impound lot where they keep the big guns.”

“Impound lot?” Junkrat repeated. He’d never heard the term before in the Outback, but it sounded significant.

“Yeah, where they keep all the vehicles they confiscate from people like you.”

This got Junkrat’s attention. “So what, would Roadhog’s bike be there?”

“Probably.”

“So ya can’t take it then? Even though yer practically his next of kin and all.”

Ava’s eyes twinkled. “I would if I legally could, but the police wouldn’t like that. It doesn’t work that way and is, in fact, frowned upon in this establishment.”

Junkrat grinned at her through the glass barrier. “I see,” he said knowingly. If he was reading the room right, he had the impression that she would get it back for the two of them. “So if we were to ever get outta this shithole someday, we wouldn’t be able to get it back?”

“Probably not. But you’re in here for life, remember? I don’t think Judge Knowles would have mercy on you. So you’re just gonna have to get used to life on the inside without your bike. Sorry, pal.”

“Eh, I’ll get used to it. Maybe.”

They chatted idly about their life partners, both romantic and criminal, until the CO banged on the door and announced that their visitation time was almost up.

“So, when am I gonna see you again?” Ava propped her chin on her hand and winked. “Let’s talk plans.”

Junkrat considered the amount of time he needed to finish cobbling together his varied weapons. “Two weeks, maybe? Let’s aim for the thirtieth.”

“I’ll see you then.” Ava placed her hand on the glass, and Junkrat mirrored her. It was like they were shaking hands, sharing a secret plan.

It had been a good talk, but after the stress of trying to carefully communicate plans without being explicit, Junkrat needed a drink. The closest thing he had was coffee, so when he got back to his cell, he heated up some water in the microwave and made himself a mug of instant coffee, immediately followed by another, then one more for good measure. If he could finish the canister soon, he could make good use of it.

He was practically vibrating by the time their recreational hour rolled around. He’d had coffee maybe once or twice in his life, and he hadn’t realized how wonderful it was. Even this instant mess tasted delicious to him. Maybe when he got out, he’d get some real coffee from a real place. He’d heard flat whites were top notch.

He bolted out of the cell when the doors slid open, full of jittery energy. “Roadhog!” he shouted when he caught sight of him. “My tubby friend!” He slung an arm around Roadhog’s waist and poked his tattoo. For the first time, Roadhog actually didn’t hit him as a result, a fact which delighted him. “Mate, I’m fuckin’ wired, didya know coffee was so good? Y’ve been holdin’ out on me, I coulda been havin’ coffee at those fine dining establishments we went to on the outs!”

Roadhog looked down at him. “Who gave you coffee?”

Junkrat laughed and pointed at himself. “Me! I gave me coffee!”

“Can you also take it from you?”

“Now, why would I go and do a daft thing like that? I bought it, fair and square, I should get to drink it! I mean, I had to buy it, it woulda been suss if I just got the creamer by itself. Didya know you can set coffee creamer on fire? All that powdered fat? Massively flammable!”

“Lower your voice.” Roadhog shook his head. Junkrat continued nattering away about his grandiose plans until Roadhog finally interrupted, “How was Ava?”

Junkrat forced himself to stop grinning maniacally and sober up a little. “Good, best as I could tell. She wanted to see ya but they wouldn’t let her.”

Roadhog sighed. “I figured. They probably suspect she was my partner back in the day.”

Junkrat knew the term didn’t have to be romantic -- he’d quipped that his cellie was supposed to be his life partner -- but after hearing Ava refer to her wife as her partner, the phrasing piqued his curiosity. “What kinda partner?” he asked.

Roadhog tilted his head at him. “In crime,” he clarified, stating it as if it was perfectly obvious. “Neither of us could be interested in anything more.”

“Ah.” Junkrat considered the implications of this statement and found that he liked them. It made it easier for him to reconcile the thoughts he’d been having about his bodyguard. “Anyways, we talked about, ah, ‘plans...’” He crooked his fingers into quotation marks and elbowed Roadhog’s side. “In code!” he hastened to add when Roadhog’s chin jerked up.

“Neither of you are subtle people.” Roadhog groaned. “You are incapable of acting discreetly.”

“It’s fine, really! We were careful, cross me heart.”

“Recreation hour is over,” a tinny voice rang out through the loudspeaker above them. “All inmates return to your cell for count.”

“I’ll fish ya a note about dates,” Junkrat rushed to tell Roadhog before they had to separate. “The thirtieth, I’ll write it all down!”

Junkrat returned to his cell and stood next to Thatcher while the CO made his rounds to ensure everyone was accounted for.

The cell doors closed. The CO who did the count left the block. The moment the thick metal door clicked shut behind the officer, Thatcher jumped on Junkrat.

Warning bells flared in Junkrat’s mind, and he automatically shouted, “Roadho--” before Thatcher clapped a hand over his mouth and wrestled him to the ground.

“Junkrat?” Roadhog sounded concerned, and there was an ominous rattle of a cell door.

“Tell him you’re fine, or I will kill you right here, right now,” Thatcher hissed in Junkrat’s ear. The tip of a sharp piece of metal dug into his side, reinforcing the threat.

Junkrat swallowed. “S’nothin’,” he called out, forcing his voice to sound casual. “False alarm.”

Thatcher derisively patted his cheek, but it was more of a slap. “Good boy. Now… where the fuck is it?” he snarled, grabbing a fistful of Junkrat’s hair and shoving his face into the floor.

“Wh-- where’s what?” Junkrat gasped. For once, he wasn’t being flippant, the fact that he had stolen something valuable from his cellmate had already left his mind.

Thatcher yanked his head up and cracked it against the concrete floor, and he saw stars. “Don’t play dumb with me, you piece of shit -- the cigarettes! You’re the only one who knew where they were!”

“Oh-- oh shit, those things. Listen, listen mate, I got a good explanation for that.” Thatcher pulled his head up off the ground, and Junkrat cowered with a wince and covered his head in anticipation.

“Explain.”

Junkrat’s shoulders relaxed slightly. “Okay, so I really needed some things from the workshop that I can’t get meself, for obvious reasons, so I had to pay for it. And I don’t have nothin’ worth those goods, but you did, and it was just sittin’ there unused, so...” Okay, so maybe it wasn’t a good explanation after all.

Thatcher’s grip on his hair tightened. “That’s it? That’s your good explanation?”

“I, uh, heh… retract that statement.”

Thatcher exhaled, nostrils flaring. “So here’s the way I see it,” he said, his level voice brimming with barely contained rage. “There’s two options. Either I kill you, or you get me my cigarettes back and I don’t pound you into a bloody pulp. Decisions, decisions. On the one hand, I get the satisfaction of snuffing out your worthless little thief life. On the other, I get my goddamn ciggies back.”

“Can I place a vote for the latter?” Junkrat tentatively suggested.

Thatcher pushed off of him with a violent shove. “One day,” he said ominously. “Get them back to me by tomorrow night, or you’re dead meat, Rat.”

Junkrat nodded furiously. “One day,” he echoed.

A note whipped under the door to their cell, attached to Roadhog’s fishing line. It presumably was Roadhog confirming that Junkrat was, in fact, fine, but he didn’t get a chance to read it and find out. Thatcher snapped it up before he could get to it and stuffed it in his mouth.

Junkrat watched as Thatcher chewed and swallowed, never taking his eyes off of him. He shivered. He’d eaten a lot of questionable things in his life, but he’d yet to taste paper.

He made a mental note never to fuck with Thatcher or his belongings again.

---

“Are you okay?” was the first thing Roadhog said the next day during their social hour.

“Yeah, yeah, m’fine,” Junkrat muttered, brushing away the concern. His eyes flitted around the room in search of Belmont; he only had one hour to retrieve the stolen cigarettes, and he couldn’t waste it talking to Roadhog, as much as he would’ve liked to. “Just a lil’ spat between cellies, nothin’ happened.”

Roadhog looked him up and down. “Well, you don’t look hurt,” he finally said.

“Toldya I was fine.” Junkrat finally spotted Belmont slipping into the shower area. “Listen, I’ll be back in a jiff, gotta go talk to this bloke for a sec.”

Junkrat made a beeline for the showers. Belmont was in the back of the room, running the shower at full blast and filling the room with steam that made sweat trickle down the back of Junkrat’s neck. The crinkled black pack was in his hand, and he tapped out one of the cigarettes.

Junkrat took a deep breath and sidled up to Belmont. "Hey, Belmont... y'know those durries I gave ya?” He nodded at the pack. “Y'haven't smoked 'em all yet, have ya?"

Belmont looked up at him. "Why you asking?"

Junkrat grimaced. "I'm gonna be needin' 'em back." He anxiously twisted the fabric of his jumpsuit while Belmont stared at him for several long, suspicious moments.

"A deal's a deal," he said. "I don't have any use for those pipes I gave you, so I'm not trading back, if that's what you're on about."

"Well, good, 'cause I wasn't plannin' on givin' back the pipes either."

Belmont narrowed his eyes at him. "Let me get this straight. You want the cigs back. But you're not willing to give me anything in exchange, not even a useless piece of pipe? Why the fuck should I make that deal?"

It was a good point. "Come on, I'll give ya somethin' if ya swap back, honest."

Belmont folded his arms across his chest. "What's on the table?"

Junkrat struggled to think of something that he was willing to part with that he wasn't planning on using as a weapon. "I've got some extra wires, I can rig ya up a lighter?"

The look Belmont gave him was positively contemptuous. "What fuckin' good is a lighter if I have no cigs to light up?"

Junkrat bit his lip. "Fair point. Whaddya want, then? Gimme some suggestions."

A slow smile spread across Belmont's face, and that should have been Junkrat's clue to back out before things got ugly. "I can think of one way you can pay me back."

"Yeah, sure, anything!" Junkrat said, relieved.

Belmont began unbuttoning his jumpsuit.

Oh, no.

“On your knees, Fawkes.”

“Junkrat.” He didn't know what it said about him that his first objection was to not being called the proper name, but his second objection was hot on its heels. “Wait, ya don't mean--”

“I mean, you talk too much, and I'm kindly requesting you put that big mouth to better use.”

Junkrat wet his lips, his brain rapidly cycling through his options. No matter how he swung it, it looked like it came down to the same thing: either give head or get his head bashed in by his cellmate. “Fine,” he finally agreed. “But I won’t be happy about it.”

“I don’t care whether you’re happy about it, I just care about you doing it. Like I said: on your knees.”

Junkrat grumbled, but he obeyed and knelt down in front of Belmont. He fumbled uncertainly with the jumpsuit before tentatively taking his head between his lips. He closed his eyes as he bobbed up and down. Maybe it would be better if he could imagine it was somebody else.

Junkrat held out his palm to request payment and was grateful when he felt the cigarette pack pressed into his hand. He was less pleased when Belmont gripped the back of his head and forced him down, keeping him from pulling away now that he had gotten what he wanted. Caught off guard, Junkrat gagged a little.

He was trying to relax when Belmont came, shooting down his throat, and all he could think was Thank god, because it meant he could stop degrading himself.

All at once, Junkrat was shoved aside, and Belmont was pinned against the shower wall by one massive hand.

“What did I say?” Roadhog growled, and the abject anger in his voice frightened even Junkrat -- the only other time that he’d heard such rage from Roadhog was in the bottle shop, when he’d made the offhand comment about “fire never hurting anyone.”

“He-- he’s yours, I know! But he agreed!” Belmont gasped, trying to cover himself back up, as if he was afraid Roadhog would cut off some of the more sensitive parts of his anatomy. “He said yes, I didn’t make him to do anything!”

Roadhog didn’t let go. He simply turned his head to look at Junkrat, whose stomach plummeted. From his position on the floor, Roadhog looked bigger and scarier than ever, but it wasn’t his imposing figure that filled Junkrat with fear, but the knowledge that Roadhog thought he wanted this. Of all the compromising positions for Roadhog to catch him in, having a near-stranger’s cock down his throat was the worst.

"...Yes," he admitted, voice unnaturally small and quiet. He didn't know why he had told the truth, that he had consented, when he could have lied to save face in front of Roadhog and get Belmont permanently out of the picture. There was just something about Roadhog that made him want to be honest for once in his life, even when it meant confessing to whatever awful thing he had done.

Roadhog released Belmont and started walking away. Seized by panic, Junkrat scrambled to his feet and chased after him, cigarettes in hand. "Wait, Roadhog! I didn't-- I mean, I did say yes, but I didn't want it, promise--"

"I don't care what you do with other people," Roadhog said levelly. "It's none of my business. Just tell me next time before I try to kill someone for taking advantage of you."

"There won't be a next time! Roadhog, it was just -- it was a business thing, see--"

The familiar, disembodied voice crackled over the loudspeaker. "Recreation hour is over. All inmates return to your cells for count."

Junkrat didn't budge. He touched Roadhog's arm. "Mate, ya gotta believe me, I didn't go askin' for this--"

"Get back to your cell before the CO catches you." Roadhog pulled his arm away from him and headed back to Cell 23. Junkrat watched him go, helpless and despondent and filled with self-loathing like he'd never felt before.

The door that separated their unit from the main prison hallway beeped. Jolted back into reality, he hurried back to his cell before two COs stepped through. Junkrat tossed the cigarettes at Thatcher, who stuffed them beneath his mattress. They stood at attention, backs rigid, as the correctional officer walked past each cell and counted everyone, his partner at the ready in case any prisoners had any funny ideas about attacking them.

“All clear!” The CO shouted, and the doors to the cells slid shut with a resounding clang.

The minute the two officers left, Junkrat dove for his pencil and paper.

Thatcher dug the cigarettes out from under his mattress and scooped out his brick hidey hole. “Good. Don’t ever even think about stealing from me again, understood?”

"Yeah, 'course," Junkrat muttered, distracted. He tapped the pencil against the floor as he tried to figure out how to word his letter to Roadhog. He was acutely distressed; he needed Roadhog to know that he had no feelings, sexual or otherwise, for Belmont, and that he wasn't the kind of person who would suck dick for no reason.

"Roadhog," he wrote. "Mate. Listen, here's the deal. I've been getting some weapon parts, ya know how it is. And I’m making some bombs, see? But I needed some pipes. Don’t got nothing worth trading, so I did a stupid thing and traded Thatcher’s ciggies to Belmont. He didn't take kindly to that, so I had to get em back from Belmont. Which meant sucking his dick. I swear, I only did it cuz I don't want Thatcher to kill me. The only d--" He scribbled out that phrase before it got too far, because wow, that was certainly a thought he was experiencing, that the only dick he'd want to suck would be Roadhog's. He rubbed his face with his hands. What was happening to him?

"It don't mean nothing, honest. I'm not the kinda bloke what goes around blowing people all the time. I mean, you know me. He ain't me type, he's too small. I told ya I like em big, right? Pretty sure I did, but me memory ain't the best." He gnawed on the end of his pencil, worried about how best to proceed. "Thanks for sticking up for me. Ya always got my back. Don't be mad at me, yeah?" He didn't know if that last bit sounded desperate or not, but frankly, he was a little desperate. He couldn't handle the thought of Roadhog judging him.

"P.S." he added, "Destroy this letter. Flush it or eat it or something. That's a thing hogs do, right?" He gave a small, guilty giggle. He was trying to bring some levity to the mood, but it was a serious request, there was far too much incriminating information in his note.

He looked over the letter. It was probably riddled with spelling errors, as the only words he was 100% sure he knew how to spell correctly were the ones he learned from assembly manuals, which were how he taught himself how to read in the first place. Still, Roadhog was sure to get the gist of it. He tied the note to his fishing line and cast it over to Roadhog's cell. He couldn't feel anything for a long moment, and he tried waggling the string in case Roadhog hadn't noticed it. He was about ready to reel it back in, crestfallen, when he finally felt the note being detached. He waited anxiously for Roadhog to read it and, with any luck, reply. When he felt a tug on his string, he pulled it back through the narrow space of his cell door.

"You're an idiot,” Junkrat read. “That’s it?” he called out. He'd come to realise that Roadhog calling him an idiot was more often than not a term of endearment. Once upon a time, it had been a proper insult, but as of late, there was more affection to malice in his voice every time he called Junkrat an idiot. Still, it didn’t sufficiently answer whether Roadhog was angry over the whole incident.

“Turn the paper over,” Roadhog replied from two cells down.

Junkrat flipped the page over. “But I'm not mad." He exhaled in relief. He was glad he hadn't irreparably fucked things up with Roadhog, and that he -- hopefully -- wasn't being judged for going along with Belmont's terms of payment. There was still the pressing matter of the fact that he had nearly expressed a desire to blow Roadhog, but that was a thought that he would deal with some other time, because that was a tangle of emotions that he was not prepared to sort through.

[assholemurphy]

so, i’m dying.

lol, not rly. except, yeah, kinda.

my gallbladder has finally fucked itself into a coma and only wakes up to force me to projectile vomit myself into oblivion whenever i consume solids. and on occasions, liquids, if it’s rly cranky. that’s my life now.

i have managed to eat 2 hot pockets, some chips, abt 8 jalepeno poppers, and three eggrolls (and keep them down) in the past 2 weeks. all that i’ve been able to keep down has happened in the past 24hrs. i’m not sure how i managed it, tbh, but it wasn’t without a fight. other than that, i have not digested anything but liquids in the past 2 weeks. i cannot think straight, i can barely form words in my head, let alone say them out loud. this is not fun and i don’t like it. it was one thing to choose not to eat (tho, rly, with an ed, it wasn’t exactly a choice, ya feel?) and to choose to purge, but now that i have no choice at all, i’m so fucking pissed off. like, part of me is happy bc i’ve lost 5lbs already, even with being bloated from constant puking, but like, more of me just wants to survive so i can work on my goddamn finals. which are all due this week. and none of them are done. (except the one that was due last week, managed to do that one, luckily).

pretty boy took me to the er on sun night bc i can’t keep anything down and it’s only gotten worse since they released me. we got there right as the docs were changing shifts, so the first doc was rly narcissistic and full of himself and the second he heard me say ‘i’ve got atypical anorexia b/p subtype’ he was like, ‘ah, yes, it’s all in your head, this is your fault�� which even made pb annoyed bc he apparently can tell the difference between what’s currently going on and my (his words, not mine) ‘crash diets’. but he was p sure the doc didn’t like me bc i called my primary doc (who was supposed to get me scheduled for an ultrasound to get this taken care of almost 2 months ago but didn’t bc he didn’t believe me when i said (having opinions from 2 previous docs) i had gallbladder issues, so he ignored it) an idiot for, ya know, ignoring me when i told him something was wrong. but docs are assholes, they don’t like it when you’re right abt something they can’t see themselves. so i’m switching primary docs asap. this guy’s a fucking joke.

(it’s also been almost three weeks since the pharmacy faxed him paperwork abt the insurance company not wanting to pay for my adderall prescript bc i take 3 pills a day and they only wanna pay for 90 in 75 days (yeah, not even 2 pills a day, like this shit doesn’t work for five hours max). he still hasn’t filled it out. it’s fucking finals week and i’ve got maybe 6 pills left. how fucking grand. so that’s gotta be sorted at the same time he gets me a surgeon’s appt.)

so the guy had me pee in a cup and gave me fluids/anti nausea meds (which were nice, helped me keep down a bit of food sun night). then he basically told me ‘it’s just cyclic vomiting, you’ve just got to break the cycle’ but he was leaving so he was going to let the next guy discharge me. thank fucking god, bc otherwise, i’d probably be dead in a couple weeks.

so this next guy is eccentric af, this whole hospital is a circus, it’s fucking great (no sarcasm, i love quirky ppl). he checks out my cup of pee and orders some blood tests (that the other guy didn’t even care to do), then he comes in and talks to me and he’s fucking great, a+ doctoring, love this guy, sadly, he doesn’t have a private practice, but apparently the nurses get asked if he does all the time. how do i know? my mother asked, bc she liked him. i trusted him. i trust no docs, ever. but this one is good. he says there’s def something wrong, def not just my ed, and orders me an ultrasound for the next morning. good, great, getting this show on the road. he understands my concerns abt my primary doc and offers to explain the results of the ultrasound to my mother via phone mon night. so she calls, he tells her i’ve got ‘sludge and wall thickening’ which are Bad(tm) esp in combination with me not being able to eat anything for over a week and a half.

so, now i’ve got to talk to a surgeon and get my gallbladder removed. as i fucking figured i’d need months ago (during the summer, with my pain and stuff). now this vomiting thing has been happening at least once a semester for abt 2 years now. no one has known what is wrong. ‘it’s acid reflux, take these pills’ ‘these pills don’t work’ ‘welp, idk ^.^’ and so forth for 2. fucking. years. now i’ve got confirmation that my gallbladder is bad. like ‘could explode and kill me’ bad. this is great, i can finally get something done abt this.

except.

except it’s finals week and no only am i running v low on adderall (i just took a pill for the first time since fri morning just a few hours ago) and i’m now fatigued and unable to eat with 4 projects left to do. all of which require a fuckton of concentration. concentration i just don’t have even with the adderall bc i haven’t actually eaten much food lately and can’t fucking think at all. like, every time i eat, it comes right back up.

so, i’ve been sleeping a lot. great, right? except for ya know, all the work i’ve got? nope. i can’t sleep for longer than 4 hours without having night terrors. like BAD ones. i’d tell you abt the one i had when i slept last (from 5:30p to 8:30p) but it would require a whole host of trigger warnings just to give a summary. but it fucked me up badly. and they’ve been getting progressively worse. i dreamed my dog died. i dreamed my apartment was possessed and the demon was trying to kill me. i’ve dreamed of animal abuse and murder and even worse things that leave me fucking shaking when i wake up. but i’m so tired that i keep falling asleep anyway, no matter how scared i am. and i stay asleep, until my alarm goes off, then i shut it off and fall asleep again (into a different night terror). there is no stopping this. my body is dying and it’s telling my brain i’m in danger so my brain is trying to scare me. it’s working. i’m well aware i’m in danger but there’s nothing i can do until my mom sets up a surgeon’s appt for me. i’ve got to remind her to do that tomorrow. i’d do it myself, but i’m far to fucking out of it currently to talk to a medical professional in any capacity.

but throughout all of this, i’m falling further and further behind on my final projects. i’ve got a 10min play analysis due tomorrow at 10:30a (which i’ve got to work on tonight). then i’ve got to finish my stagecraft project (which requires that i go to the shop 3 more times so i’ve got to do that at like 11a tomorrow, then 12p thurs, then like 7p thurs, but i’ve got to find a shop employee to go with me, apparently, and i’d take goldilocks, but she obvs doesn’t want to do it, so i might ask pb or mary, if i have to). then i’ve got to do my monologue assignments for acting i (i’ve got one almost fully memorized, i just need to refresh, but i’ve got to memorize another one, read the play it’s from (i’ve got to buy the ebook), and do an analysis over it before thurs at 10:30a). then my intro to theatre final is due last, but it’s p big and i’ve got to do a lot for it. like 7pg paper plus a ‘previous action’ script (i’ve got to write up a script showing what happened before the play itself starts). i’ve got a SHITTON of work to do and only 9 hours for the sa final, then 24 hrs for the acting i final, then 26 hrs for the itt final, and somehow i’ve got to find at least 3 hours for my sc final. all while trying to get sleep and not eating anything.

plus i’ve still got to do some loan stuff with finaid this week.

i emailed my profs telling them what’s going on, but they’re not going to accept any late finals, so idk why i bothered. (i haven’t heard back bc i just emailed them like, an hour ago and it’s 1a). i CANNOT fuck up this semester bc i won’t get finaid anymore if i do and i can’t drop out. so like, i’ve got to get everything together, but i’m just so fucking sick and everything is overwhelming. i’m going to do my damnedest to get everything done, but idk if i’ll be able to. i rly don’t know.

i’m so fucking stressed over this shit, which is only making my gallbladder issues worse, so it’s a losing battle all around and i’m drowning. honestly, if i had the money, i’d pay for someone to do this for me, but i can’t and i wouldn’t anyway bc like, i’m not putting my name on anything i didn’t do myself out of some bullshit pride thing i’ve got going on. my pride’s gonna get me killed one day, i just know it.

but, tonight, i’m gonna work on my script analysis final and pray to god i can get it done in time. i’ve got like 2 hours left on my adderall, maybe 3 if i push it. i need to make a plan of attack for everything and get to work.

i’m not going to fail this semester if it fucking kills me. and it actually might.