#learning from fiction

[veterancoffeemaker]

I find it funny how I already know several of these BECAUSE they were featured in some work of fiction.

It’s crazy just how much random specific knowledge people sometimes have because “it was mentioned/shown in a story I liked.”

Notes from a concerned medical professional who reads too much hurt/comfort:

(These are all things I've seen in Hazbin/Helluva fanfics)

(Tw: for injury, illness, gore, drug use, overdose, a lot of other things)

You cannot drug someone to sleep by overdosing them on melatonin. It will not work

Don't submerge an open wound or stitches in a bathtub/pool/etc it will introduce bacteria to the wound (taking a shower is usually fine, just skip the romantic bath)

On that note, stitches do not immediately stop a wound from bleeding and should not be used to solve every problem (never give yourself stitches unless you have absolutely no other choice they can trap infection inside the body when done incorrectly)

And, if the wound is extremely deep, a person may need several layers of stitches to piece together the skin, muscle, and viscera

You absolutely cannot get high on tylenol or ibuprofen even if you mix it with alcohol.

If you do mix tylenol or ibuprofen with alcohol it can cause internal bleeding/kidney damage/liver failure, so please don't do that

If someone is shivering from a high fever, don't cover them in blankets it will raise their body temperature even more (please try correctly dosed tylenol or ibuprofen for this)

Don't submerge someone with a high fever in ice water, they might go into shock (they also might panic and hurt themselves) in a pinch lukewarm water will do

Don't put ice on burns, run them under lukewarm or cool water instead

If someone overdoses on an opoid (heroin, morphine, various pain medications), there is a medicine called nalaxone (Narcan) that can reverse the effects of opioids (edit: thank you to @queerlybehooved)

If someone is bleeding profusely, don't just hold their head and whisper sweet nothings, put pressure on the wound!!!

If a bullet remains in a person’s body after being shot it most likely should not be dug out unless it's blocking something vital, the bullet is not the problem the damage it made in it's path is

This isn't a criticism of authors who have written things like this. A lot of it isn't common knowledge, and DIY healthcare is absolutely steeped in myth and misinformation. I just worry about disinformation being perpetuated (and I really enjoy accurate hurt/comfort)

If I got anything wrong, please let me know, and I'll edit the post. I'm far from perfect and appreciate good advice

Let me know if you guys want a fic rec list of my favorite Hazbin Hotel whump fics

[bitterbareface]

People not comprehending Nosferatu correctly might kill me. Yes it's erotic and about pleasure but yes it's devastating and about child sexual abuse. It's a movie about victimhood, about being already dead, about longing for the great beyond, about never feeling safe from your abuser, about always expecting one more rape must be endured. It is about being an ugly victim, a neurotic victim. About your supposed allies tying you down for fear you will rip their world to ribbons. It is about facing the abuser, facing the pleasure the abuser brought. It is about men seeking to silence a plague in the quiet of the night when grooming and abuse can only be destroyed by pulling it into the light of morning.

[lazylittledragon]

ok someone please correct me if i'm wrong but am i weird for thinking those 'audiobooks don't count as reading' posts are ableist as fuck????

[choccy-milky]

bird in her gilded cage 💙🪽

[madamemiz]

i request more kerfur and kel. it brings me nourishment.

same, have a comic

access denied/comforting presence

[randomness-is-my-order]

i will always appreciate that mxtx, intentionally (more likely) or unintentionally subverted the expectation of “humans always focus on the negative” sharply off the cliff edge and made wei wuxian a complete antithesis of that sentiment, wherein, he seems to almost always decisively ignore the negatives (after he has processed them in some capacity) and focus on the positive. it’s like amidst the dark, stormy, cloudy mire of his life, he always manages to find the silver lining and amplify it enough that its weight outdoes the worst experiences he suffers through. you could call it a coping mechanism but i honestly think it’s a different but just as valid fundamental outlook on life. wei wuxian has such an undercurrent of optimism about him and none of it stems from naïveté or ignorance or a sheltered life. it’s that wei wuxian can live through a life of loss and grief and unfairness and still find it in himself to be happy, to hope, to live. it’s that despite everything, he can be optimistic. that’s why it matters so much. that’s why i think it’s such a beautiful piece of characterisation–and a very grounded one at that. it doesn’t feel cheaply done. wei wuxian’s emotions don’t feel paper-thin. his disregard for the negatives only adds to his complexity, instead of taking away from it. and it just makes me think that if this guy, if wei “cultivation world’s biggest enemy” wuxian can find happiness once more, what excuse do we have to not make an effort to achieve the same?

[vir-bellanaris]

Sincerely, to the people getting upset about the dragon age news...please take a step back to breathe. Take a break, please, it is not in any way worth it to get this worked up over fiction.

Disappointed I can understand. But if it is affecting your well-being, then it's time for some introspection.

[reesiereads]

How much time do you think Monty spent at the library while he was human?

I mean, he chose to bump into the group specifically at the library—and more than that he already had books checked out. He understood that astrology book so well he made Edwin an entire astrological chart.

Not only that but a lot of the things Monty says and does sound like something he could have picked up from novels. “I didn’t get your number” Esther is from the colonial times, I doubt he would have picked that up from her and who else would he be talking to? “Do you want to go get coffee?” Aka one of the most common romance fiction tropes of all time.

Like I absolutely believe Monty worked his way through a monster amount of books and tried to peace together how to act based on that. Even the set up on the swings feels like it could be torn out of a romance book. And maybe that’s part of why he took the rejection so harshly (other then Edwin’s admittedly blunt/hurtful response). Books hardly if ever show rejection.

It could even explain why when he’s discussing it with Edwin he states “you said you don’t love me.” Where the hell would he have gotten love from? I doubt Esther’s spouting off about love with her history. If Monty had read a romance book or two he might have assumed what he felt for Edwin was love simply because in stories that’s how it goes: meet, attraction, flirt, kiss, love. He’s spent his whole life as a crow, how is he to know better?

[hmsdoodlin]

*Sits at a table with a napkin tucked into my shirt.*

Waiter! Waiter! More Mind angst please!! Make him really fucked up after the Juno incident, give him existential dread about his own mortality pretty please!!!!

Make him afraid of the dark, make him jump at loud sounds and claps of thunder. Give him nightmares he can’t fathom because he’s not supposed to feel like this. He’s not supposed to be ‘flawed’ or ‘wrong’.

Make him despise Heart not only for trying to kill him, but also for bringing him down to his level. He isn’t supposed to experience these emotions, Heart has infected him with fear and indescribable grief. Make him suffer with his humanity.

No matter how you see him, automaton, cyborg, full robot. He’s derived from a human, he can’t escape that fact no matter how hard he tries. The shot only reminds him of how fragile his life is, I think that it fucks him up for a good while.

“Mind forgives in the end, but he does not forget.” - My genius friend

[fictionadventurer]

Everything I learn about Rose Wilder Lane makes me more and more aware that she was a hilariously outrageous person who needs a movie made about her immediately.

After leaving Missouri, she moves to California and marries a real-estate guy who once tried to get her to help him con the railroad.

She gets hired at a San Francisco newspaper known for its yellow journalism, where she does things like writing a series of columns featuring the "real-life stories of a police detective" who, in real life, was a high-end jewel thief.

Her first book is a first-person "autobiography" of Charlie Chaplin that she (after a few interviews with Chaplin) completely made up, and that Charlie Chaplin immediately threatened to sue her publisher for.

Her second book is a biography of Jack London, which his wife only reluctantly allowed her to write because Rose presented herself as "someone who had never written for the newspapers before and needs a chance to break into the magazines." This book was also almost entirely fictional, and her publisher also almost got sued over it.

Third biography is the first-ever biography of Herbert Hoover, also a heavily-fictionalized account. (Doesn't seem to have been sued for this one. Steps in the right direction!)

Traveled as a reporter through Europe (to places like Albania and Poland) post-WWI. (If we want to talk about legal things that she did).

Wrote a book based on Laura's late-childhood pioneer experiences while Laura was writing the early books of the Little House series, and did not tell Laura about it. (Laura was ticked off).

Kept trying to insert a story into Laura's memoirs (and Little House on the Prairie) casting Pa as a member of a posse that hunted down the infamous (and never-caught) serial-killing Bender family (despite the fact that this was historically impossible). (It got to the point that Laura herself told this story to the public as an example of "a true story I couldn't out in my children's book." Despite the fact, I say again, that this was historically impossible).

During WWII, endured a minor incident (it involved one cop coming to her house) where the FBI investigated her as a potential communist based on a postcard she sent that was critical of the government. Turned this into a short story that presented herself as the righteously-outraged American citizen fighting against an oppressive government, and used this to whip up a nationwide media campaign against J. Edgar Hoover for spying on American citizens.

Flew to Vietnam as a war reporter when she was in her seventies.

[stardustdiiving]

Me explaining in terms of strictly how I read canon I think Nahida not severely punishing the Sages is just meant to convey that Nahida, even when wronged, is not a very vengeful or harsh person and makes the choice to be kind instead, but in my mind I have this idea of a Nahida interpretation which elaborates on that where her self punishing tendencies extend to her being someone who internally downplays her own experiences constantly, and as a result has a hard time feeling she’s allowed or justified in placing a lot of blame on the Sages for what they did to her So while she is following her own philosophies regarding teaching lessons/wisdom/etc in how to handle the Sages and genuinely doesn’t want to be really angry or punishing because of who she is as a person, her decision is also influenced by the fact she’s basically blocked herself out of grappling with how to handle people who hurt her by blaming herself for said hurt instead as a coping mechanism. And like this is all just me being insane about Nahida Trauma and not something explicitly implied in canon but also I really do think this isn’t a far stretch from her canon characterization especially when my vision isn’t to conclude that Nahida needs to be angry and vengeful but she should extend the kindness she shows others to herself and also every day I get tormented thinking about she was the mental equivalent of an average human child when the Sages found her and how they basically specifically discarded her for being a child and the idea of how Nahida would pick up on + internalize that and eventually need time to unlearn it

[toddtakefive]

breaking my silence: i think a lot of anderperry angst mischaracterizes them so badly it’s impossible to take seriously or enjoy. neil in particular is almost always made into some raging asshole for… some reason? and it makes him so unrecognizable it’s almost insulting to his character

[pixelpaladin24]

Age 19: I love this character so much, he is my husband

Age 25: Wow, I was so fucking cringe, I am embarrassed at myself, ew, I'm glad I grew up

Age 35: .......this man IS MY HUSBAND and I LOVE HIM and I'm proud of it!!!

[captainmaxatx]

I feel like we are all sleeping on the fan fiction potential given to us from Deadpool and Wolverine using their bodies to make a circuit with matter and anti-matter

Who knows what that could do to a person, you could write a fic where that caused anything your heart could think up.

[artsandstoriesandstuff]

Some non-canon(?) shenanigans between Pat and Enid.

(If you want to I'd appreciate a reblog or a comment at least!!! It makes me feel better about this stuff.)

[bookshelf-in-progress]

Jack and His Wife: A Retelling of "Jack and the Beanstalk"

Jill raced through the giant’s kitchen, clinging to Jack’s hand. A table towered over their heads. Chair legs stood like a forest of trees. Footsteps like thunder pounded beyond the walls of the room.

Before today, Jill had thought herself fearless, but those footsteps made her quake with terror. Jack, meanwhile, had never looked so capable. Was this tower of strength the fuzzy-headed dreamer who’d left their farm this morning?

Jack helped Jill to climb inside a cupboard taller than their cottage, then dragged the door closed behind them.

“We’re safe,” he breathed, holding Jill close in the darkness. “He won’t find us here.”

Through a crack in the door, Jill saw a giant enter the room—a coarse man, taller than any tree she’d ever seen. His face was red and knobby, his hair mostly gone. He threw himself into a chair with a noise like a thunderstorm and bellowed for his wife.

Jill whispered, “What are we going to do?”

“We wait,” Jack said. “He’ll eat his lunch, then he’ll sleep, and we can leave.”

Jill looked in awe at her husband. He was so steady. So sure. Where was the incompetent fool she’d married?

“You’ve been here before,” she realized. “All those days you disappeared and came back with food.”

Jack nodded. “I had to provide for you somehow. Everything else I’ve tried has failed.”

“You told me you’d hired yourself out to some local farmers.”

“He is a local farmer—directly above our cottage. I’ve done some odd jobs for his wife.”

“You never said they were giants!”

“Would you have believed me?”

Jill blushed. She’d have thought her idiot husband had turned lunatic as well.

She’d thought Jack climbed the beanstalk out of idleness—enjoying the view rather than working the land. She had followed him today out of frustration, thinking to drag him back to earth with scoldings and nagging. Instead, she’d found Jack braving a land of giants in the clouds.

In the oversized kitchen, the giant’s wife cooked a feast for her husband—entire cattle, flocks of chickens—but she never came near their cupboard. This hiding place was dark, cluttered with buckets, and smelled faintly of vinegar, but for now, it seemed safe.

Jack made a seat in a massive pile of rags, then settled Jill into it. “Rest while you can. We’ll need to be ready to run.” After making certain Jill was comfortable, he curled up on a thin patch at the edge of the pile.

He was so considerate. He was always considerate, Jill realized, but down on the ground, it annoyed her. His small courtesies seemed like pitiful apologies for the larger ways he failed as a husband.

Jill had fallen in love with Jack’s dreaming ways. He’d been charming and convincing, overflowing with grand hopes for their future. Unfortunately, in twelve years of marriage, none of his dreams became reality. Crop after crop failed, livestock died, and Jill became bitter. Jack never did, and she hated him for it. No matter how desperate they became, he was always sure that next year’s crop would fix everything or his grand new scheme would make them rich as kings.

The beans had been his worst blunder. Jack had traded their last sickly cow for a handful of seeds guaranteed to grow a forest of vines. He’d spun visions of a bumper crop, a better life. Jill had raged and thrown the seeds out the window.

The seeds did grow massive vines practically overnight, but they were a menace. The beanstalk took up half their garden. The inedible vines showed no signs of bearing fruit. Every day, they hacked at runners and roots that threatened to destroy their cottage. Jack put a cheerful face on it; Jill had only complained.

Outside their cupboard, a shout from the giant sent shivers up Jill’s spine. “Did he just ask for ‘man-flesh’?”

Jack sat up and nodded grimly. “Fortunately, his wife objects.”

“You work for this monster?”

“I’d be his next meal if he saw me. His wife has a softer heart. She hides me from him and gives us food.”

“I’d rather starve than know you risk yourself this way.”

Jack gave Jill an astonished look that made her insides twist with shame. Had it been so long since she’d expressed concern for his well-being?

Jack stepped closer to the door. “If it were only me, I wouldn’t risk it. But we could save the whole valley. He’s been hoarding the water somehow, keeping it here in the clouds. If I could find a way to release it, it could end the drought.”

The giant slammed down an empty glass, leaned back in his chair, and called for music.

Jack said grimly, “We’re also not the only humans here.”

The giant’s wife carried a golden cage into the kitchen. Huddled in the center, looking small as a canary, sat a crying eight-year-old-girl.

“Farmer Gidding’s youngest,” Jack explained. “Sings like a nightingale. Not big enough to eat. He keeps her as a pet.”

“How horrible," Jill whispered.

As the little girl piped a tearful song, Jack said, “I had hoped I could rescue her today, but now that you’re here, plans will have to change.”

As Jack gazed through the crack, a ray of light illuminated his fearless form. Jill had thought her husband’s optimism made him a fool, but there was another word for a man who didn’t let defeat discourage him, who looked at impossible odds and dared to try anyway.

Hero.

How had she ever stopped loving him?

Jill stepped to Jack’s side. “Let me help you, my love.”

Jack looked at her with surprise. “Truly?”

Jill took his hand. “Truly.”

Jack grinned.

#

When the giant fell asleep, they moved as one.

The child came with them down the beanstalk.