#one day i will go to the doctor and figure out if i have executive dysfunction. one day.

[homunculus-argument]

My usual problem of "and then some other shit happens" is that they keep piling up on top of each other. This morning, I was just about to start work when

mail comes in. I've received a letter from the tax office.

I open the letter and get a Fuck No Way That's Right kinda bill.

time to hit up my accountant and ask what the fuck do I do now

realise that I haven't delivered my accounting stuff for like four months either, gotta apologise to her about that too

e-mail doesn't go through, double-check the address, re-type my whole apology and explanation again

four consecutive e-mails do not go through

fuck I gotta call them, where's my phone

just as I was about to make a phone call, I receive a phone call

forgot I had a phone appointment with my doctor, turns out I do not have a natural physical resistance to poison damage, and my medication resistance is something else.

confident in my ability to execute two unrelated tasks at once, I take a sip of my tea while on the phone. Naturally I fuck it up and pour the lukewarm tea on my lap instead.

figuring that since I'm unhurt and only poured enough to soak my clothes, not my chair, I'll just sit with the wet tea on my lap until the phonecall is over, and hang them to dry on the balcony later.

phonecall done, I remove my clothes and go hang them up to dry.

spot my little ficus tree cutting on the balcony, decide to water it since it's so hot and I don't want the thing to die.

coming back inside after leaving my clothes on the balcony, my boyfriend sees me undressed and wants affection.

he also wants to show me a video that he came upon.

make myself more tea

coming back to my computer, remember the phonecall I was supposed to make.

call the accounting people and tell them I can't e-mail the person I worked with, and get informed that the person I had been working with quit unexpectedly, and the one currently running the whole business on her own will look into my shit once she's personally out of the hospital. She meant to call me earlier about What The Fuck I'm Doing but unfortunately hospital.

promise her to deliver my accounting things today since it's the least I can do to not make her day any worse than it already is.

save through my paypal activities, log onto my online bank, check my account and do some math to confirm that I should more or less be alright until my next payday. Move some more money to my bank card account for groceries, and log out.

remember that the reason why I logged into my bank in the first place was the accounting, and log back in to get that data.

send my records to my new current accountant with apologies for not doing that for four months despite of being supposed to do it monthly.

finally done with that, satisfied of actually Getting Things Done, I suddenly realise I've spent the past three hours on random sidequests, haven't even touched whatever it was that I was planning to do today, and top of that I've completely forgotten what it was that I meant to do.

waste another half an hour writing a meticulous account of how I spent my morning doing everything else than what I meant to.

[abbyfmc]

Yandere Story idea #34:

I said it before and i will said it again.

I love the yandere emperor figure, so here's my new idea.

A yandere emperor whose empress (you) has died. A yandere is rarely explored in the middle of a duel, and this one even less so. A yandere emperor would be pretty devastated by your departure, to the point of not being able to bear the sight of your cold body in said coffin himself.

Emperors are always seen as frivolous, strong or imposing figures who do not openly show their feelings; however, I believe that this would not be the case.

The yandere emperor will cry heartbroken in private.

Or probably the yandere emperor will cry his eyes out in public too, which would surprise many.

If by chance you died in front of him or in his arms, he will not want to let you go until someone can persuade him or get him off of you.

Of course, he will make funeral arrangements for you. The most beautiful ones you could ever imagine and during this event, he will not leave your coffin for a single moment.

The Yandere Emperor would force everyone to mourn you. From other royal members of the court, to common servants and subjects.

Even your grave would be the most beautiful.

The yandere emperor would be able to cremate you and have your ashes in a vase in his chambers.

No, no one but him and a few servants could enter your chambers. Not even your family of origin.

He would make your chambers a shrine in your name. There he would worship you and perform ancestral rites depending on his religion.

He will surely execute the doctors for not treating you well.

He will treasure every letter, piece of clothing, gift or whatever you left behind. From the coat you gave him to the last painting you made.

The Yandere Emperor may take refuge in alcohol as an escape from his reality. For him, there is no point in staying in this one if you are no longer there.

The Yandere Emperor wouldn't accept ANYONE in the court speaking ill of you after your death.

Every time the Yandere Emperor talks about you to someone else, he will rave about you. You could say that he will also mention how beautiful his relationship with you was (beautiful from his point of view).

Even if he marries another empress or consort, the yandere emperor knows that she will never come close to matching you.

If the Yandere Emperor finds out that your death was not a coincidence, but a murder, then he will search for the culprit and make him pay in blood for what he did to you.

Many empresses and queens throughout history have died during, just after or days after labour. If this were the case, there could be two scenarios: * The Yandere Emperor may feel hatred towards the baby, in case he thinks that you died because of the prince/princess. * The yandere emperor may want that baby and perhaps love it or want it, since it is the only thing that reminds him of you and of course, the last thing of yours that you left him before passing away.

The Yandere Emperor, not accepting this harsh reality, might be capable of using witchcraft in order to be reunited with you.

It may be with the aim of reuniting with you in the afterlife, or it may be so that your spirit remains on the earthly plane where he is. This would not let you rest in peace.

So, here's my idea:

Yandere Emperor can´t accept your death and he resorts to witchcraft to keep your soul so that you can feel close to him again. This would be tragic if you wanted to die to escape from him.

[yois2aki]

੭୧ if i can't save you... . ۫

chishiya shuntaro x g!n reader

— warnings: fluff, descriptions of typical aib violence, fits both manga and live action, one singular suggestive remark, no use of y/n.

— summary: you arrive from a particularly rough game to an almost empty beach, thankfully there's still a specific doctor awake to treat your wounds.

— word count: 2.4k

your leg barely healed from the last game, and you had to play again already.

it was a wonder why there were so many people left in the borderlands. if it weren't for your high ranking on the beach's hierarchy and the minor hope you had to leave this world once all the cards were collected, you would have probably given up. 

it was tiring and stressful. even though so many people were living life as if deathly games weren't waiting for them the next day, you just couldn't brush away the fear of a laser hitting you on the head out of nowhere or waking up with once again new rules to the games.

you waddled to the beach's main hall entrance with the few survivors from the game you played. the three of spades should have been easy, but even you underestimated it, getting scratched violently by a black panther in between. all that mattered was that you were alive, and soon the wound would heal itself like every other did (not really, your leg was full of dried blood, stopping the wounds from opening, but still in critical condition.)

all you had to do was go to your room, take a shower, and go to sleep. there was an executive meeting going on, but you were too unbothered to even care about the hatter's waste of time. you realized everyone you knew would be either sleeping, partying, or at the so-called meeting, which was more of a lecture.

while walking around the hotel rooms, you relished the quietness. it had been a while since you were able to rest, and all you needed was a bed and a pillow to pass out on. that was until a figure in a white jacket showed up in one of the corners of the hall.

"what the-!" you gasped, jumping back at the surprise and placing a hand almost immediately on your chest while trying to catch your breath. dramatic? maybe a little. but you did get scared at his sudden presence.

chishiya stood in place while staring at you. upon regaining your composure, you looked up and noticed he had his signature raised eyebrow look, and you felt the need to explain what went on. "i didn't expect to see you there. aren't you supposed to be at the meeting?"

in reality, you had never been that close to chishiya, apart from the usual small talk due to being both executive members. you had no idea what was going on inside his head at any moment; his expression was definitely unreadable. every time you two were placed together somewhere, the awkwardness made itself present. even if you'd try and engage in a little chat, he'd end it too quickly for you to feel stupid for even trying. if he knew your name, you would be surprised.

instead of answering, chishiya kept silent. usual, you thought to yourself. as your mind ran around looking for ways to end this awkward situation, chishiya's gaze seemed to be elsewhere. your eyes finally met his, but his didn't meet yours. instead, he fixed himself on your legs. 

"you're bleeding," he said bluntly.

"oh..." you looked down at your own legs, bending slightly to take a look at the situation. your mouth opened agape once you noticed just how bad your wounds looked.

you didn't realize it the moment you got it, but the scratch from earlier must have messed up with some other of your past injuries, opening both of them up. a trail of blood was running down your legs, and as you glimpsed to the floor, you realized it was also stained by so. for how long has it been like this? you wondered. 

"yes, i'll take care of it later..." you mumbled pathetically.

it was quite embarrassing to be in this position, especially in front of chishiya. for some reason, you always messed up your words when talking to him or anyone superior overall. maybe it was because you'd picture a whole dialogue in your mind before speaking, and when actually doing it, words came out messed up and switched.

you finally looked up with the stupidest expression on your face, realizing chishiya's eyebrow had only raised more. you bit your lip in embarrassment as he spoke up again. "if you take care of that the same way you did with your other wounds, you'd be better leaving it how it is."

if you could be more ashamed than you were, you would. perhaps he was just trying to get under your skin, but the only thing you wanted to do was get out of this situation. 

you stood there awkwardly as your gaze never met his, unsure of what to say next. instead, he was the one to break the silence.

"follow me." he said after a sigh left his mouth.

and you did exactly so. or at least you tried. you noticed that chishiya didn't even bother to look behind to see if you were actually following, but you also noticed he was moving slower than he usually did, probably because he knew you could barely hold yourself on your own two feet. you weren't even sure how you knew how fast he normally walks.

your thoughts were interrupted as you realized he was actually taking you to his room. you knew this path like the back of your hand since you would always watch where he was going after the executive meetings. this was where you registered that you had been analyzing every single one of chishiya's movements without even knowing it. you probably looked like a creep as soon as you grasped it all.

chishiya opened the door to his room and finally looked at you, as well as at the trail of blood you left behind. something in his gaze — you could not understand what — changed as his movements hurried slightly.

"sit down in a comfortable position," he demanded with a voice that almost seemed caring, pointing to his bed.

you did as asked, although you struggled to be in a pleasant posture due to your legs almost opening apart. 

this seemed all too weird to you. the chishiya that barely looked your way for more than five seconds was the same chishiya that was now leaving his suite with a first aid kit, seemingly prepared to treat your wounds without even asking.

"why are you doing this?" you couldn't help but interrogate. his latest actions were way too out of character, at least to the chishiya you made up in your mind.

"i was bored," he replied sarcastically, a tone of irony present in his voice. now this was more like the chishiya you knew, even though it was obvious that wasn't the real motive.

you wanted to keep smothering him with questions because your mind was way too confused to function properly, but your line of thought was put back as you saw him kneel before you and open the box he positioned on the bed. you would have folded and turned into a blushing mess right there and then, if it weren't for the agonizing pain that decided to come back.

you got a quick glimpse of what the box held: gauze roles, sterile gauze pads, eye pads, a roll of adhesive tape, elastic bandages, sterile cotton balls... your head started almost immediately hurting looking at all the utensils that you had barely any idea what did.

"relax. focus on staying awake." chishiya said it with that same voice from way before, tense but almost sweet. he gathered something on one of the cotton pads; you could not figure out what, as your mind almost went blank. "this will hurt."

and as he finished his sentence, not a single second was left for you to process as he started patting your wounds with it. you immediately hissed at the pain, tears threatening to spill from your eyes as you bit into your hand in a way to muffle your whimpers.

your head moved away from the scenario. even though you wanted to keep your eyes on such a focused chishiya, you would have probably passed out from looking at the amount of blood leaving your leg. especially now that, with the alcohol-coated cotton, which you developed a deep hatred for, he had removed the thin layer of dried blood left, securing your wounds.

he moved the piece of pad very quickly around your wounds, removing the blood as fast as he could, probably to make the process faster and less hurtful. the thing is that, if he were more patient, the pain would probably not be half as bad as it is right now. however, you were too dazed to tell him to be more gentle. tears finally ran down your cheeks as you did your best to keep one hand holding you on the bed and the other brushing them away and covering your mouth at the same time.

even through all the pain, your biggest worry was how stupid you probably looked in front of a guy who must have had something to do with the medical department — you assumed by the way he seemed so professional right now.

"calm down. the worst part is almost over." he said, not bothering to look up to guess that you were driving yourself crazy with tears from your whimpers and constant sniffling.

his words managed to comfort you for about 3 seconds, as he finally stopped moving the torturing device on your leg and you opened up your eyes, only to realize he was just picking up another one and coating it with alcohol once again.

before you could even process it, you audibly groaned in disapproval, almost forgetting who was just below you. 

he suddenly stopped, his head finally lifting to look at you with that unbothered classical look, his mouth slightly open. you looked at him hesitantly, your eyes still coated with tears and your face somewhat puffy, quickly realizing your mistake.

"would you prefer for me to leave your leg as it is?" he said it with a superior tone. even though the sentence was formed as a question, you could tell he definitely didn't mean it as one. more like a reprimand.

"sorry..." you muttered under your breath, your eyes immediately drifting away from his, trying to avoid getting his confront once more.

he kept his eyes on you for a second before sighing and shaking his head, his attention going back to your leg as he started to move the cotton pad once again. you hissed between your teeth, your hand moving back to your mouth as you closed your eyes as strongly as you could to avoid any tears from spilling.

to your benefit, this part ended quickly as he finally finished cleaning your wounds. you sighed in relief, now only a sharp but endurable pain left on your leg as you finally relaxed your muscles until he spoke up again.

"your injuries aren't that serious. you were lucky you ran onto me." he commented, staring at his newly finished job. so much, it almost made your head hurt. "there is a specific cut that would normally need to be sewn together, though. however, we don't want to hear any more whining tonight, do we?"

his words traveled immediately to your heart, your face heating up for the nth time during this whole interaction, unable to even stare at him. 

from this moment on, your mind just went somewhere else as he finished patching up your leg. you couldn't lie and say that by the time he was finished, you didn't feel much fresher and calmer, being able to look at your leg and see it coated in white instead of red. 

he finally got up with a sigh and stored everything back into his first aid kit box, entering his suite and placing it back wherever he hid it.

"thank you; sorry if it was an inconvenience," you said in a low voice when he came back. your eyes stuck on your leg, moving it around as if you never had two functional limbs before.

he stared at you, seemingly having fun with your own stuff, with a smirk on his face that, if you had caught onto it, you would have died of embarrassment once again.

"now, be careful not to get wounded like that again." he commented, turning his back to you and moving around the bed, looking for something you didn't pay attention to on one of his shelves. "i might not be as gentle as i was this time."

you were brought back from the moon as he finished his sentence. that was him being gentle? you could practically hear the smirk on his face when he said that, but it still managed to get you thinking. you knew better than to complain, though.

"what were you before coming here?" you remembered wondering a few moments before, due to his skills in treating you. the question came out without thinking twice.

you could hear him stop while looking for whatever it was when you asked that, to which he answered quickly. "i studied medicine. i wasn't a doctor yet, though."

if chishiya could have gotten any hotter to you, he just did. you bit your lip, breaking your process of thinking before your thoughts led you elsewhere. 

"that doesn't mean i wasn't smarter than most of the fools that call themselves doctors at the hospital i studied at." 

there was that snarky response chishiya was missing, you thought. you turned around to see him, finally realizing that he was actually looking for something between his shirts. you tried to peek into it, but he suddenly pulled something out that looked like a soda can, with a few cables around it. he finally moved closer to you again, handing you the item.

"it's a bomb," he added, as you rolled it around your fingers, trying to figure out how it worked. "so you can be more prepared when playing. make sure not to use it on yourself."

he clearly meant the last part as a joke, but that was something that the percentage of happening wasn't zero, you had to admit. "thanks."

even though chishiya seemed stern, there was something about him that attracted you. and something that made him help you tonight, about which you still weren't sure, happened to make you more confused. you wondered about asking him again, but knowing the littlest bit about him would make you sure that he'd just avoid the question once again. at least your leg was patched up, and you could go to sleep peacefully tonight.

— a/n: aaahh im debuting on this account... hope you guys like this little babble i made a few days ago. aib fever is back and i have a lot to say, might as well spill it out! i will make a masterlist soon enough. feel free to leave requests (if it's working) (╥﹏╥)

[foone]

The worst part of working at the Dimensional Nexus is that we don't get the regular internet there so you can't just watch your shows on Netflix or whatever. We gotta stick to analog media, since the digital stuff doesn't deal well with the temporal flux (the analog stuff doesn't either, but it's usually just a fuzzy image for a second, while your computer just crashes).

Everyone brings in their favorite media from home on old analog tapes (or laserdiscs. They're analog too! And we've got a couple hardened players on the lounge, so we can watch them).

Anyway while you're on-base (which could be for months or years), all your (video) media consumption ends up being on CRTs and piles of tapes you brought or traded with coworkers. Most people bring in a second suitcase of tapes so they'll have something to watch.

I brought in some letsplayers I stuck on a few VHS tapes (yt2vhs is a great program), and box sets of Star Trek: TNG and DS9.

About a month in, the trades really open up, as everyone has watched their own tapes and wants more. I got a good deal on a laserdisc of the Soviet version of... Well, nevermind. But let me just say, in my defense, the author of the books never went off the deep in in that universe, and the Soviet version wasn't made with her cooperation, anyway. I know that's sometimes a little difficult for people from the 91-verse to believe, but that's not the author's reputation in the rest of the Nexus.

Anyway I traded my TNG episodes for VOY. I've seen TNG a dozen times, so I figured it was time to go back over VOY.

It seemed to be pretty similar to what I remembered (other than them killing off Seska of all people at the beginning of S3? Who kills off your series's main villain?!) but at the end of S3 I hit the big divergence between our universes:

Seven. They introduced him early on in Scorpion, part 1, earlier than I remember.

The storyline goes mostly the same, with just a little less 7/Janeway romantic tension (do they even get together in this version? I'm gonna have to wait until season 5 to find out!)

Harry Kim lives in this version of Scorpion, too. I'm not sure why that is, they were clearly setting him up to die? Probably some executive meddling or something. I don't have access to Trekpedia (especially in that universe!) to check.

But yeah. This is one of the universes that got the twinky Seven instead of the catsuit-girl version (Not that this version wears any fewer catsuits). They got 9 seasons instead of the usual 5, so I'm excited to see if those extra ones are any good. When I was picking up the tapes I was surprised how many there were, and Josh told me in his universe they get home in season 6 and the remaining 3 seasons are a sort of spin-off/reboot done when Orbita took over from UPN.

Can't wait to see how that goes. More Star Treks need a post-script season (or three) made in the USSR!

Anyway I'm already looking forward to finishing this because I've already gotten a lead on a copy of TNG where Yaphet Kotto said Yes to the Picard role (sadly that version doesn't have the quintessential Jeffrey Combs as Riker, but I hear some people swear by the Gregg Marx Riker).

Still looking for any copies of the Kim Miyori-as-Data version of TNG. That one wasn't as popular (not it's vault! They had the US Doctor Who and both the Star Wars shows to go up against) so it's less likely to be brought in, but I'm always checking video libraries whenever I'm in that universe. Someday I'll find it. I found that fucking CED of the Walken A New Hope, I'll get the girl!Data TNG one of these days!

[mortimerc]

𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎.

Chapter 6

Male-GN Reader x Viktor (Arcane)

TW- Possessive Behaviour, Arcane Spoilers

From your recent departure away from everything that you hold so dear, you decided to live within the shadows of Piltover and Zaun. For your second chance of living, you had chosen to take care of the people of both city, especially the people of Zaun.

moving stealthy from city to city and gathering resources for your different identity of being a caretaker and a doctor at a local hospital in Zaun that you’ve built during these years.

Throughout the years, you also had watched the progression of Piltover itself. You also can’t help but be proud of the recent progression of Viktor and his inventions. But as time goes by, you have seen Viktor slowly but surely deteriorating his health for his projects and inventions.

You’ve always had been watching over Viktor from the shadows making sure he is not in grave danger, but so suddenly, after his incident with the shimmer infused-hexcore—— every connections to his had gone dark and Viktor’s whereabouts were no where to be found.

Days, weeks, months turned into a year. It’s been a year after you had seen Viktor in the eyes of the public. But one day,- all of the hardworking that had been accumulated didn’t go in vain. Whispers spreads throughout the streets of Zaun, and you heard from a certain vastaya by the name of Lest giving you information of a certain someone that is capable of healing even the most worst of the worst of injuries and making miracles happen.

So like any desperate person would do, you decided to go to the location given to you to maybe—— just maybe that this person can help you locate and pin down Viktor and stop this endless cycle of a cat and mouse game.

Arriving at the location, you were surprised with the sight and sound of a bustling city filled with people going on with their day. Your nose was hit with the smell of fresh air compared to the air of the streets of Zaun.

A man that introduced you to the place and volunteered himself to give you a tour of the city had the name of ‘Salo’. You were surprised to see Salo here, you had acquainted with him in the past and growing close due to all the past projects whenever Salo decided to collaborate with the academy to work on some invention.

You knew he that he was dead, after reading the news of what happened to the council a few years back.

“Salo..?”

“We meet again.. I haven’t heard from you after you left the academy and disappeared without a trace.”

“How do you remember me..? How are you-“

“-Alive?-“ he chuckles before continuing his sentence. “You are quite inquisitive, Hm? I thought i was dead too,, but I’ve been cured. All thanks to your partner, Viktor.”

“Did my device work on you..? I’ve timed it perfectly to execute it when you were going to visit me.. It worked on everyone.. Professors Heimerdinger,, Jayce, Sky, Viktor- everyone.!” Your whispers to him gradually getting louder by each name you listed off.

“Let’s save the questions for later, Hm?” Salo brushed your questions off

“……”

“You seem upset.. How about a trip to Viktor to help cheer you up?”

“Will he even remember me?..” worries clouded your mind.

“We can figure something out..”

Your footsteps echoes as Salo leads you away from the bustling city into a more quiet area of the city. You decided to break the silence with a question as you both enter a building and going down to an underground bunker area.

“How.. how have you been Salo.?”

“Never felt any better after I’ve been freed from the responsibility of being apart of the council.. what about you.?”

“…too difficult to explain.. It’s been a rollercoaster.”

“I understand.. we’re here.”

Salo leads you down a large spiralling staircase leading to something you see into the distance. It was a familiar looking sight before it clicked, it was a massive ball of a corrupted rune. You walked closer behind Salo, your breath being visible as the temperature drops to a low point.

Your gaze was fixated on the rune, that is until a very familiar ice echoes through the air— breaking your attention on the rune and quickly turned your gaze on the voice.

It was him, Viktor.

“Salo,, what brings you here—— [Name]..”

Your heart skips a beat.

“You remember me..?”

Viktor gave Salo a look and Salo quickly turns back to the entrance and leaves you both alone.

“I..I’m so sorry to make you wait for this long,,” Viktor apologised before you cut him off by running up to him and pulling Viktor into a warm embrace.

“I should apologise,, I’m so sorry…”

You both let go of each other and sitting in the comfortable silence before Viktor breaks it.

“To answer your question,, after the ‘incident’.. the rune took place in my body and enhanced everything including my mind” Viktor points to his head on the temple while a soft smile plastered on his face.

“I guess i have to upgrade my inventions huh..”

Viktor chuckles “You sure do.. Tell me, other than seeing me again, why did you come here..?” Viktor asks

“Being honest, I didn’t even know you were here.. i was coming here to find you. I guess i did..”

“You sure did” Viktor pressed his forehead against yours and sitting there in silence.

“I’ve heard,, that Zaun’s citizens are getting cured by you.. quite an achievement huh.. Is there anything that you are going for in the future with your newfound powers?”

“I had an idea,, an idea to better humanity.”

“And how are you going to do that?” You asked

“A way to better humanity is to make humanity more capable of surviving is to remove all emotions.”

You were taken aback by the words of Viktor.

“But.. emotions is what makes humanity.. human.”

“I know but,, you have to trust me.. this will change everything for the better.’

“…” you stayed silent and started to think about Viktor’s words.

“Alright.. I trust this, but it doesn’t mean I will be doing anything with your——idea. I think I would rather stay in the sidelines.. Yknow, like a cheerleader.” you tell Viktor your thoughts with a soft and small smile plastered on your face.

“That’s fine.. all that I need is the person i care for the most to be on my side.” Viktor said with a genuine smile on his face.

ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

[the-universal-sun]

little lee being scared/having a phobia of the doctors? your stories are such a comfort to me and i have a doctors appointment tomorrow 🙁

Oh no! I hope your Doctor’s appointment goes well! I have one on Tuesday :/. Thank you for your request! I had fun writing it! I hope you enjoy reading it, though it’s less phobia than you might have wanted! TW: mention of needles, bloodwork, and medicine

As always, I’m open to helpful comments and feedback! But also just to talk if you need to! I hope every one has a good day!

-_-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_-_ -_-

“Stanley Caryn Pines get out from under those covers right this instant.” Ford’s voice was stern, having tried to get Stan to leave to room for nearly half an hour now. His patience with his brother, usually so endless, was running thin. It was awful that they had to do this on a day when Stan was regressed-but then again, neither of them could control when his brother felt small or not.

“Mmmm-No! No Doctor-no!” Came a muffled shout from under the blanket, a figure huddled underneath it for protection and safety. Safety from the scary doctors and needles and icky icky medicine. Stanford was trying to make him see a doctor and let them steal his blood! He needs his blood, doesn’t his brother know that? How could he betray Stan like this?

“It’s just to make sure you’re fine before we go traversing the seas! I had to do it, so you do you! We don’t need either of us getting sick or running out of medicine when we’re weeks away from land, that’s dangerous. Life threatening even!” If Ford could change the day of this appointment he could, he knows Stan’s terrified of doctors, he always has been, but to see him to scared when little? Beyond his annoyance, it brings an ache to his chest. He hates being the one to do this, feeling like he’s betraying his brother to the highest degree again, but they have no choice. They’re leaving in a month and this was the only appointment they could get in for Stan. The next available slot is in February. How, Ford doesn’t know, Gravity Falls only has a population of around 1,000 people, give or take, and he seriously doubts all of them are seeing the Doctor every day. Then again, there’s only one Doctor, and while he was thorough, he was questionable in his bedside manner and execution of his physical. But, alas, this is the day of his brother’s appointment, and he will make Stan go.

Ford’s train of thought is cut off by the sound of a muffled whine-one promising tears if Stan isn’t consoled soon. He sigh, moving to sit beside his brother’s blanket clad body, resting his hand on his back and just patting softly, trying to think of some soothing words to ease his Little Lee’s mind. Because he still needs him to go to the appointment, but he’d rather not do it with the other man kicking and screaming. And crying, no doubt. After a few minutes of silence and some stolen glances at a clock in the corner, Ford finds the words to hopefully calm Stan down.

“Lee, I’m sorry. I don’t want to make you go, I hate to see you so scared, but I have to-“ another whine cuts in and Ford lowers his head until his brow is touching the back of his brothers head, “I know, I know. It was hard for me, too, after 30 years of taking care of myself. But I want us to be safe and healthy for our adventures on the Stan O’ War, and that includes bloodwork and medicine.” He sighs, changing his hand from patting his brother’s back to rubbing it, thinking through his next words. “How about this, Lee, you stay for 30 minutes, and not only can you get a whole roll of fun stickers, we can go get lunch at the reopened Greasy’s, is that a deal?” Ford hopes Stan takes this deal, he loves stickers and Greasy’s diner. While they have an abundant amount of stickers left over from Mabel, Greasy’s just opened yesterday after having been closed since Weirdmaggedon-it’s been a month and a half since Stan’s had food from his favorite diner, he’s been itching for it.

“Gweasy’s?” Stan popped his head out, voice muffled from chewing on his shirt, which Ford promptly pulls out from his mouth. Stan loves Greasy’s, and he’s been wanting it for so long, maybe 39 minutes isn’t so bad if he can get a treat. But stealing his blood, hmm….he’s still not sure, the needles are bound to be big and scary, and while Stan is a super brave boy, he doesn’t know if he’s brave enough for that. Stanford must have read his mind, because he offers another bribe-that’s what they are after all, Stan knows all about bribes-one that has him far more interested than stickers.

“And we can go to Portland for the USS Blueback Submarine tour.” And Stan’s in. He’s been wanting to see the Blueback for ever! For ages, even, but he’s never been able too-not enough free time or anybody to watch the Shack. Or anyone to watch him, knowing how the excitement might make him regress, and he can’t do that by himself when in public. That’s bad, bad, bad and seems very scary. But if Ford’s with him and it happens, he’ll be safe and Ford can show his scary dog face to anyone who’s mean to him! Stan scrambles out of his bed and races towards the door, he’s got to go now so they can hurry and see the submarine!

“Slow your roll, Lee. You need to get dressed and ready first, that means dentures in and dressed in pants and a shirt with your hair brushed.” Ford pulls him to a stop, making him stand still before going to his dresser for clothes. Oh, guess Stan forgot to get dressed today, he’s still in his icky and itchy big Adult pajamas. Which he quickly shucks off, holding his arms out for Ford to help him get dressed. His brother laughs when he turns and sees Stan like that, but when he whines and bounces, Sixer quickly gets to pulling the shirt over his head.

“Okay now. All dressed, dentures in?” Stan smiles widely, his new dentures shining, “Perfect! Let’s go!” It doesn’t really hit Stan until they’re walking to his car that he’s going to the Doctors office and he’s going to get poked and prodded at. He freezes, stiffening up and clutching his arms, his body beginning to rock back and forth on the balls of his feet. Are his brother’s bribes really worth it? What if the doctor is mean or-or the needles are huge and take all his blood? Can he really do it? He wishes he could bring-A touch to his shoulder startled Stan out of his thoughts, Stanford looking at Stan with the most gentle look he’s ever seen. Well, if he’s here with Stan, maybe he could do this.

Stanley gasps as Ford presses Shanklin 2 into his hands, clutching the stuffed toy tightly as Ford leads him into the back seat and buckles him in. “I figured your friend would get much too scared waiting here for you, Lee, so he’s coming with us so you can teach him to be brave. Can you do that, Lee?” It’s a low blow almost, but by the way Stan resolutely nods and puts on his best brave face, Ford knew it had worked. For now at least, they’ll see how it goes when he gets blood drawn-he did request a butterfly needle for Stan, so hopefully he’s not as scared when he sees it’s not the thick needles they had as children. “I’m going to be right there with you, too, Lee. I won’t be going anywhere. I might need you to hold my hand if I get scared. If that’s alright with you?” He laughs at his brother’s stern nodding. That’s Stan for you, always willing to be a rock for his brother, his own feelings aside.

Ford buckled himself in, adjusting the mirror before turning on the radio, some old blues music softly playing from it as he slowly backs out onto the paved road. Internally he hopes, glancing back at Stan softly bobbing his head and rubbing Shanklin 2’s tail, that Stan forgets about the Greasy’s promise; the food there gives him such a stomach ache.

Stan does not forget about Greasy’s

[pampushky]

Foot of the Gallows

trafalgar d. water law/reader - chapter 1 - 3.1k

ao3 link | masterlist | series masterlist | next chapter

1.) sunshroom

sunshroom: A mushroom often found in deserts and dry places. It's a beautiful, orange-red color. By drying it, and then turning it to powder, it can be made into a medicine that can then drive away the chills, or added into a stew to safely raise the body temperature of a patient experiencing even the most severe cases of hypothermia.

cw: planned execution, mentioned character death (rip my boy corazon), mentions of past arguments/insults, not a very heavy chapter tbh

content otherwise: angst, friends to enemies to lovers, hella slow burn, law needing to figure out emotions, reader is an apothecary, genuinely just angst and idiots on both sides

The news of Trafalgar D. Water Law’s execution is brought to you by a kindly old woman, with a bad bought of dragon-scale, fetching medicine for herself. She drops the two silver coins in your outstretched hand, the rough patches of her skin brushing against your palm, and you shiver a bit as she hobbles out the door, already popping one of the dried balls of medicine into her mouth, strictly against the instructions you had just given her. 

“Set to be hung tomorrow at mid-day, m’ducky!” She calls over her shoulder, letting out an ugly cackle as she crunches on another ball. “Should have done it from the start, that’s what I was telling Earl this morning!”

You slump into the chair behind your counter and fight the urge to massage your temple, instead washing your hands vigorously before you even start to handle your morning breakfast. You let yourself breathe, after that, leaning over the little basin of water in the back of your shop before you stride back to the front, wiping your hands on your apron, and starting on your orders for the day. 

Hanging was a terrible way to go. No where near as quick, as the crowds who would rush to watch would think. In reality, they died of strangulation, often very slowly, when the rope would fail to snap their neck, which it always did. You know this, because of your father’s teachings, mentoring you in your family’s trade until you were able to work on your own, allowing him to retire to the south of the continent, where he could spend his days with your mother, none of the cold northern winds to make their joints ache.

Somewhere, you feel a pang of horror, that your childhood friend is to die that way. Law, who had been a serious, yet sweet child, was always by your side, helping you gather the herbs and mushrooms you needed, drying lichens with you in the branches of the tall aspen beside your house. He helped wrap your scraped knees and elbows, held tightly to the little cuts on your fingers until the bleeding stopped, and lectured you on the importance of proper hygiene the moment the hair under your arms and on your legs started to grow, waving his two years of age ahead of you like a proud banner, shooting up in height almost overnight. 

Also, the same boy who had shoved you into a puddle of mud and declared that he hated you, before storming away, forever poisoning the bond that had grown between you for nearly fifteen years, turning you from friends to bitter enemies in the split second it took for you to fall to the ground after being pushed. 

Ah, the duality of man. 

It didn’t matter now. A suspiciously brilliant doctor or not, he had been nothing but an ass since your friendship had so abruptly ended. You steeled your heart to his tragedies and accomplishments. You thrived in your own way, continuing with your way of life just as your ancestors before you had, living in the same house, beside the same aspen, making the same kinds of medicine and selling it to the descendants of the people whom your ancestors had helped. 

It didn’t matter at all. Especially not when Law left after his father’s death, and then returned three years later, with white patches of skin covering his body, making it look as though a skull had been painted on his face, or the streaks of bright white in his pitch-black hair. 

So why did that sting of horror never fade? Even as you crushed dried sunshrooms into the mortar until it was a spicy-smelling powder that could be used to drive away the chills, and raise someone’s temperature safely, even in the worst hypothermia cases. That sharp pain never escaped you, thrumming at your heart until you were certain you had eaten something that was starting to mess with you. 

Until you remembered you hadn’t eaten anything at all and gave up on feeling any better about the execution. Events like that always made you uneasy, especially when the imperial Guards would come into your otherwise quiet shop, the horse-hair plumes of their helmets muffling the sweet chime of the entry bell halfway through the ring, looking for a lethal herb or plant that you almost certainly didn’t carry. You hated that despite multiple signs on the door, and after repeatedly writing to the captain of the guard, they still would come asking.

So you set to distracting yourself, putting the powdered sunshroom into a small jar, and then eating an easy breakfast of rice porridge and honey, before getting to the rest of your work for the day with your head down, and definitely not thinking of Law as the day drags on. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Law’s tone is dry, while the shackles slang slightly from around his wrists. He’s sitting on the ground of his cell, caked in dried mud, with a split lip and a black eye. There were other, more well-hidden, wounds from the guard’s interrogation, but they got what they wanted in the end. But still, Bepo looks horrified as he looks at him through the bars of the cell, ears flattened against his head, with his canines bared in sorrow and anger. 

“You look…. Horrible,” Bepo mutters and then starts to shake his head from side to side, squeezing his eyes shut and placing his hands over his ears.

“Thanks,” Law leans his head against the brick wall and closes his eyes. “That’s incredibly helpful, Bepo.” 

“I-I mean, how, you haven’t done anything wrong—”

“I performed a standard procedure from a different country, where the magic I used is outlawed in this one,” Law deadpans, eyes open again on focusing on the ceiling. “So I did do something. And then the guards beat a confession from me, so it’s my word against… well, myself.”

Bepo groans, and slumps to the ground, curled in an awkwardly large ball for how tight the corridor of the city prison is— the detriments of being a polar bear mink. Oh, the things Law would publish if he could, right now. Mainly about the abhorrent conditions of the prisons. Were the people aware of just how terrible the cells were? Or did they simply not care?

Oh well. It didn’t matter now. Law was as good as dead. Ikkaku and Shachi had been researching tirelessly for ways to get out of this without any luck, and Penguin had tried (and failed) to hire any lawyer that was willing to so much as take a look at his case to argue in front of a judge. According to Shachi, once they had so much as heard the words dark magic they had sent him packing, screaming for him to leave immediately before they called for the imperial guards.

“The more accurate term would be lunar magic, but they never want to have that discussion,” Law sighs, and Bepo unravels himself from his despondent ball on the floor, staring at Law with what can only be described as contempt mixed with annoyance. 

Just like you how you looked at him every time he had gone to your shop to stock up on painkillers and other supplies. Surely you’d gotten over what he’d said from when you were teenagers? Having to dodge the pestle that was sent flying at his head answered that question rather quickly, along with Ikkaku and Bepo being the only people allowed in your shop to pick up the supplies he needed. Penguin, Law, and Shachi were recipients of lifetime bans from the shop, which had only happened to two other people in the entire history of your family working there. 

There was no need to punish his patients for his ‘assholery’, according to Bepo, which is the only reason why he was still allowed to get what medicines he needed. But Law being able to enter was soundly out of the question, so he would end up standing awkwardly outside the door, using Bepo or Ikkaku to communicate with you. 

That wouldn’t be an issue to you anymore, he supposed. You could go back to selling your medicines in peace, and probably even get more customers from his death. How morbid of him to think about— the benefits of his untimely demise, and the setbacks that this country would go through because they had decided to execute him rather than letting their medical sciences and their backwater understanding of magic types evolve. 

At least he wouldn’t be able to bother you anymore, gods above knew that you deserved some peace and quiet, not deserving to have the doctor haunting your mind, if he even crossed your mind.

But there was still the issue of how to pass his last day alive, especially while Bepo was still sulking in the hallway, one of his ears twitching slightly at the sound of a shopkeeper singing some song about a man on the way to the gallows. Law didn’t catch much after that– he tended to block such things out to focus on his studies and work. Bepo, however, seemed to be rather interested in something, his head snapping up, before scrambling out of the prison, only saying something about an idea to save Law. 

Law only closes his eyes again and lets himself disassociate as he listens to the near-rhythmic scratching of the rats on the floor. 

The sweet little bell above the door chimes, drawing your attention away from the scale for just a second, staring at the panting polar bear standing in your doorway, one hand pressed against the frame while the other holds the door open, before managing to wheeze out your name, and looking up at you in desperation, and speaking between giants huffs for breath. 

“You…” huff  “...have ta’,” huff  “...help Law.” huff huff. 

“Good afternoon to you too, Bepo,” You speak dryly, and the polar bear can’t help but think about how similar you are to the doctor currently sitting in a cell across the city. “Now, how in the name of Wild Mother would I be able to help a man, who pleaded guilty, by the way, to using dark magic?” You raise an eyebrow, arms folded as you stare him down. “He knew the laws. He should have been more careful– or, I don’t know, not use dark magic.”

The annoyance in your voice is palpable, and you turn your back to him, going back to measuring out a shimmery gold power into a little glass bowl. Your back is stiff, and Bepo can see how tightly you’re holding the little spoon in your hand as you carefully fill the bowl, before adding a few drops of some oil, and then stirring it. You don’t even look back at him, but there is fury in your voice when you realize he still hasn’t left yet when the bell doesn’t chime again after a minute. 

“Bepo, I already told you, there’s no way I can help him,” You turn again, letting out a frustrated sigh as you look at him. “Besides— surely I am the last person that he would want to have to help him out of this mess,” 

“But you are— wait, no, not the last— urgh! I mean, you’re the only one who can help him!” Bepo slams his hands down on the counter, and you look a bit shocked, raising your eyebrow at him again, while he stammers out an apology. 

“That…. is four-hundred-year-old wood,” You sigh, and then look pointedly at the mink, “Explain,” you rub your temple as you speak, thoroughly done with everything to do with Trafalgar Law, and on the verge of considering giving Bepo a lifetime ban for slamming on your counter so harshly. 

“There’s an ancient law— if someone proposes to whoever is on the gallows, their life is spared for a year, and they are retried then, based on how they’ve improved and lived with their spouse,” Bepo talks to you in a frenzy, eyes wide, “You can propose to him— right when he’s going up, and then you can use your influence to help him prove that lunar magic—”

“Get out,” you snarl, and Bepo freezes, looking at you with shock, mouth still open, as though he hasn’t even finished his pitch yet. But you’re done listening and don’t want to hear anything else about this idea. Yet he continues, even as you stalk around the corner of the counter, set on throwing him out yourself, if he won’t leave on his own. 

“Shacchi and Penguin can’t— they’re married, and clearly only interested in each other, and Ikkaku doesn’t court men. I— I’m too publically known not to do anything, so—”

“Get out!”

And with that, Bepo finally takes the hint and leaves, but not before shouting: “At least consider it! Please! You’re his last chance!” 

You close the shop early that day, feeling sick to your stomach as you sit on the floor, knees to your chest, trying to fight off tears as Bepo’s pleas ricochet around your skull. The pain and horror in your heart still haven’t faded, and if anything, they’ve only gotten worse. Damn that man. Damn your fool of a heart, for still clinging to that childhood friendship. And damn the cruelty in Law’s heart for saying those cruel things to you as he shoved you to the ground, his eyes full of nothing but hatred and malice as he towered over you in the rain. 

The chime from the little bell above the door haunts you as you go to sleep for the night after spending several hours on the floor of the main shop with your back to the door, painfully aware that the next time it rings, there’s a good chance Law will be on his way to the gallows. 

><><><

Executions have always been rather…. Obnoxious events. The crowds are too excited for the end of a person’s life, too entertained by the drama of it all, while the guards read out the sentencing, and details of the crimes. Law never quite understood why so many people were so attracted to it— during his apprenticeship across the sea, he had attended many executions, all to collect the body of the criminal, sent to do the dirty work of the medical academy that the second and third years didn’t want to do. 

It’s odd, from the other side of the lens. He can see the bored-looking medical student, with the white-and-gold cloak of a first-year medical student, just as he had worn eight years ago. He can see Shacchi, Penguin, and Ikkaku, in the front row, solemn expressions on their faces, pushed into the barrier by the jeering crowd. It’s an odd mixture of emotions on the faces of the people who’ve come to see him die. Some looked angry, crying out about it being unjustified, and that they were killing an innocent doctor who had done nothing but save countless lives, while others shouted about the god of light and the sun striking him down for his insolence. 

Backwater country, Law sneers in his mind, right when a rotten peach gets pitched at his head, causing him to stumble a bit. The guards, ever merciless, only tug on his shackles harshly and nearly make him fall flat on his face. 

Shachhi lets out an angry shout, and Law watches as Penguin holds him back, straining against his husband. Ikkaku spits at the man, though, and goes down in a flurry of fists and screaming. Bepo is nowhere to be seen, and he is oddly okay with that. The polar bear is sensitive— it would be best if he didn’t see him die this way. 

When Law gets to the steps of the gallows, an odd hush falls over the crowd. He knows it’s because they finally got a better view of him now, and are likely spending the time to really take in his admittedly miserable state. Or at least he thinks that’s what they’re doing, until he turns to look back at his friends, only to see a figure in a dark green cloak, finely embroidered with white leafy and floral details, and looking straight ahead as it marches down the path he had just walked. The vice-captain of the guard, Kizaru, who has to be present for all executions that take place in the capital city, pays no heed to the figure or the silence of the crowd and tiredly reads out the charges levied against him.

The hood falls, just as the figure reaches the foot of the gallows, as the noose is slipped over Law’s head, and there you stand, holding up your hand. 

“I invoke my right to propose to this criminal, in the interest of bettering and upholding our justice system,” Your voice is steady. There is a roll of parchment in your upheld hand, “Here is the ancient law that states this right, should you need me to source the legal right I have to do this,” 

Your eyes are filled with fire, be it fury or determination, Law does not know, but he does know that you look like you are going to throttle him when the two of you go behind closed doors. Bepo somehow appeared behind Shacchi, Penguin, and Ikkaku, looking extremely hopeful while the other three looked utterly baffled. The crowd is whispering amongst itself.

Kizaru only nods, reading the parchment after taking it delicately from your hand, and then gestures for the noose to be taken from Law’s neck, and the shackles unlocked, nudging him off the little stage. 

“We shall discuss this in more detail tomorrow,” Kizaru sighs lazily, shooing Law and yourself away with a flick of his wrist, setting his chin against his other hand, and studying the two of you. “But for now… in the name of our great Empress, and by her divinely-appointed power, I ask the gods to bless your union and re-introduce you to our beloved creators as a married couple. Congratulations." Amusement twinkles in his eyes, before his mood suddenly sours, and he scowls, "...Now get out of my sight.”

The crowd riots the moment he dismisses you, and you drag Law by his wrist in the direction from which he had come not ten minutes earlier, expecting to be executed, only to leave alive, but married, as well. You only keep your gaze forward, cursing under your breath the entire time, the chaos of the botched execution sends the town square into chaos as the two of you disappear into the crowd.

[fatuismooches]

I'm in love with the "Traveler finding fragile reader" scenario I've seen floating around your blog because this scenario is super interesting for Dottore specifically. Actually caring about someone else, perhaps even more than he does himself and his ambitions, not having the upper hand, and being almost wholly at someone else's mercy in a meaningful way are all probably very foreign things to Dottore. Since I suck at writing proper stories, here are some scattered thoughts.

After all the times they've encountered and clashed with the Second Fatui Harbinger, the Traveler had subconsciously realized that they would have to be just as ruthless, just as cruel as he is to neutralize him. They'd truly come to terms with this after learning about your existence, and muster the will to act upon this knowledge as the doors to the location you were being hidden in slammed open. Paimon's gaze snapped to the source of the sound, and in that split second the Traveler summoned their blade and held its edge against your throat. (As an aside, imo the Traveler would totally do something like this if they had to. We saw how they were willing to coldly execute you-know-who in the Aranyaka quest.)

As he burst through the doors, Dottore was greeted with the sight of the accursed Traveler's determination-filled glare, their white floating imp's wide-eyed stare… and the lab's dim lights gleaming off the blade held over your throat. Their surprisingly calm voice grates against his ears. "Paimon, keep your eyes on Dottore. There's no telling what he might try."

The only other time Dottore had ever felt this alarmed in his centuries of existence was when you just didn't wake up one day, reduced to barely clinging to life with the support of his modified Akasha terminal. This was a new first for Dottore - the first time he lost his rationality. Objectively, this was a favourable scenario - he knew the terrain here like the back of his hand, which would be a major advantage against an opponent as powerful as the Traveler. With this, he had a decent chance of permanently removing possibly the biggest obstacle to the Fatui.

The above should have been what went through Dottore's brilliant mind, devising scenarios to bring it to fruition. Instead, every cell in Zandik's brain was working in overdrive, trying to find a way to somehow get the Traveler away from you, to keep you safe. He knows the kind of person the Traveler is - if it were anyone else, he'd have no problem calling their bluff and striking at the slightest hesitation, but this was you, the only life he couldn't afford to gamble with.

(How the actual confrontation goes down is anyone's guess, since I don't have any concrete ideas. A proper fight is likely out of the question because a clash between two of the strongest beings in Teyvat is going to be incredibly destructive - you're almost definitely getting caught in the crossfire somehow, and Zandik can't have that.)

oh MY GOSHHHHH I AM LITERALLY DEVOURING EATING THIS UPPP

Anon. Im. I have no words. Your writing IS SUPERBBB. ITS AMAZING. All those things you said are so true. Even to this day sometimes Dottore is surprised he cares about you this much. He would have never thought he had the capacity for that previously. He always thought he had the situation and his emotions always under control, yet his love for you still blossomed. That was the one time he felt as though he could not predict something. The Doctor was known for his meticulous plans and actions, with no room for counterattacks or opposition. He was used to the cowered figures, terrified expressions of the people beneath him.

Until now. 

Dottore doesn’t have much regrets in his life. He doesn’t regret his countless experiments or people he hurt. That didn’t really matter to him. But right now, he was thinking that he should have killed the Traveler when he had the chance. Then you wouldn’t be stuck in this situation, the Traveler’s blade held dangerously close to your throat, hanging you on the thin line between life and death. (Traveler’s dull blade never seems to disappoint ig…)

The sight has him slowly losing his normal composed, rational train of thought. The tone the Traveler takes with him only worsens his thoughts, and he can’t help but think back to the time when he nearly lost you. From then he swore to never put you in more harm than you already were. But it seems like that was a broken oath now.

Scholars must plan for every possible situation and take everything into account. And now, he has to consider the possibility you may… 

There are innumerable amounts of plans and actions unfolding in his head, but each of them leaves you at risk, the one thing he has to avoid at all costs. He simply cannot risk your life. You still have a life ahead of you, the one that you deserve, one when he finally cures you. And he shall not let this Traveler stop him, no matter what he has to do.

Even as this goes on, the Traveler still can’t help but be fascinated by the fact they have the Doctor in a chokehold, not by sheer power, blackmail, knowledge, or anything along those lines. But rather from a person who didn’t seem to be anything special. If the situation was different, they would have liked to see the kind of person you were to be able to change the normally ruthless, unfaltering Doctor into a hesitant one.

I enjoyed this tremendously infinity/10, I loved how u described Paimon as an imp 😭 Traveler better watch themselves after that because when he gets you to safety, he ain’t holding back 🚶‍♀️LIKE I WISH I HAD MORE TO ADD BUT THIS IS PERFECT. I can only imagine maybe the Omega clone stepping in somehow, or a very tense verbal confrontation between the two of them where he has to give up some secrets in exchange for you. Or a crash/explosion from somewhere else distracting the Traveler enough to be able for Dottore to retrieve you.

[the-indigo-symphony]

The line "It's not X's fault that your doctor* isn't taking you seriously, it's your doctor's fault." has been said many times before, and not for no reason. However, I've yet to see that reason properly explained, so I'm going to do my best to do that today.

You see, I don't think saying this phrase alone really gets across the message of it. Because sometimes doctors will blame X ("trenders", TikTok, self-diagnosis, whatever) as their reason for not taking you seriously. Which makes this sentiment come across as ignoring the people who have had that happen to them. But the sentiment still applies to those folks, too. Why?

Because if your doctor truly had your best interests in mind, they would still do their best to help you out regardless of their own concerns; they wouldn't just say, "I'm not gonna help you because I think you're just influenced too much by X." Maybe they'd go over the possibility of you being influenced by X, but at the end of the day, the existence of someone else is not a justified reason for your doctor to not give you treatment, because your life is not defined by this nebulous other person, group, or object.

You are your own person. You are an individual patient. Your doctor should be treating you as an individual patient and person, not a mindless mouthpiece for a trend. Outside of whatever influences your doctor may be concerned about, you are still a patient and person, and deserve to be treated well as one. You do not deserve to be treated as incapable of thinking for yourself; you do not deserve to have your concerns dismissed as planted there by whatever scapegoat your doctor has chosen as an excuse not to properly treat you. Being less educated in the matters of health, making an incorrect guess about what's going on with you, or just daring to have a condition that a lot of people are talking about right now are not, in fact, good reasons for a doctor to not perform their job and listen to what's bothering you or going on in your life.

Moreover, a good doctor should acknowledge that even if your concerns are misplaced, there had to be something to build those concerns in the first place. Maybe you don't have ADHD, but you struggle with executive dysfunction and need help with that. Maybe you don't have POTS, but your heart is doing something funky and more testing is needed to figure out what. Even the most extreme of fears come from a nugget of truth, and it's your doctor's job to find that nugget so they can help you with it. It's just unfortunate that many doctors aren't willing to properly search for that nugget.

If I see discourse about "fakers" on this post I'm going back to bed. Stop blaming other people for your doctor's incompetence. Consider reporting on your doctor to their boss or the ethics committee for refusing to properly treat you because a certain condition is becoming more well-known, or whatever their excuse is this time

*Note that "doctor" here is used to refer to any health professional. Psychologist, psychiatrist, dermatologist, whatever. It's just an easy catch-all.

[tismandrelativedimensionsinspace]

I just caught up with doctor who and I’m really curious what you think about the episodes? Specifically 73 yards, dot and bubble, and rogue were my personal favourites so I’d love to hear your thoughts on them or the others

ooooh ok yes here we go

space babies - i loved it. ok? i get that a lot of people didnt like the cgi baby mouths. but i think it had such series 1 vibes (i.e. ninth doctor). it took me right back to my childhood. loved it tbh

the devils chord - :/ yeah. maestro was the onky redeeming factor of this episode tbh. it was supposed to be about the beatles but like. nothing about the episodes plot felt specifically beatles-relevant? like. you could have had the exact same plot with any 60s/70s band and it would have worked out the same way. i think if you're gonna do an episode surrounding a specific historical figure, the plot has to Only make sense for that historical figure. otherwise whats the point

boom - ugh. yes. 10/10. loved ncutis acting in this one. HE WAS LITERALLY STUCK ON ONE SPOT THE WHOLE TIME. COULD BARELY MOVE. AND HE STILL GAVE A HELL OF A PERFORMANCE. i was so impressed tbh. i love bottle episodes. the side characters were a little lackluster tbh tho. my only qualm with it really

73 yards - ANOTHER BANGER. i love love love when they get a bit horror with it. i loved that we got to focus on ruby and get to know her and her character a lot better. i very nearly cried when she was sitting outside her mums door on the phone. loved the mystery and the lack of a coherant solution, really added to the spookiness and fae vibes of it all.

dot and bubble - ok. im gonna be honest. this episode was boring to me. nothing really happened for the first 30 minutes. lindy was annoying as fuck. and i know that was supposed to be the point but like. if you're gonna do a doctor-lite-ish episode you've gotta make the focal character interesting. give me sally sparrow any day. i get what they were going for, i see the vision, i just think it could have been executed a bit better

rogue - yessssss!!! yesssssss!!!! loved the gay of it all, obviously, but i feel like that has kinda. taken over literally everything else about the episode??? i love the idea of larping aliens thats so silly and fun. i loved the fight mode scene with ruby holding her own. i loved the bridgerton-esque drama and ruby trying to comfort emily. i loved seeing ncuti get his "fury of the timelord" moment when he thought ruby was dead. the doctors dark side is so important!!! hes not all sunshine and rainbows!!! family of blood anyone!!!!

legend of ruby sunday - hm. the pacing was a little off. i felt like a lot of the time i was like. ok can we get to the point now. they mentioned the anagram thing So Many Times. and probability of trap. like ok girl we get it!!!! but. im very excited about sutekh!! he seems like a fun villain and very high stakes. and im so intruiged and compelled by rubys story. i Need to know who she is and who her mum is so so bad.

ANYWAY SORRY FOR RAMBLING BUT. YOU ASKED LMAO. AUTISM MOMENT

THANK YOU SO SO MUCH FOR ASKING BTW ILY!!!!

[statelysapphic]

Doctor Blake

Alex Blake x Reader

Summary: When Alex hears you've come down with the flu, she takes it upon herself to nurse you back to health. Covers the Cold & Flu Season square for @storiesofsvu's Holiday Bingo 2023!

Warnings: Mild descriptions of illness, mostly flu symptoms. Fluff.

A/N: Hi babes! I know I said I had four different holiday fics for yinz, but life has been much busier than expected. I'm hoping to finish up another soon for ya. Anyway, here's some Alex Blake fluff. Thanks for reading! <3

Ao3 Link

You felt like shit. Laid on your couch, under a mountain of blankets, yet you still felt like ice. Your muscles ached like no other, and your chest hurt from the near-constant coughing. Your throat was on fire, your head was pounding, and your mind was foggy. You really weren’t sure what time it was, or even what day it was, just that everything hurt. You knew you were dozing off now and again, but soon, you were unable to distinguish between what was real and what was a dream. (Undoubtedly caused by the fever)

Alex was immediately concerned when she heard you had come down with the flu. Doctor's offices and hospitals were inundated with patients, though she knew you wouldn’t be one of them. You were too damn stubborn to ask for help on a good day, and you definitely wouldn’t be asking for help while you were sick. She made the executive decision to take care of you, whether you liked it or not. You had given her an extra key to your place, after all. (In case of emergencies, of course.)

The older woman had spent her entire morning perfecting your favorite recipe. One she jumped through hoops to get, but she would do anything for you.

When she stepped foot into your apartment, the first thing she noticed was your soft snores from the couch. Lightly padding through the living room, Alex was met with the sight of you burrioted in at least three blankets, only your pale face showing. Cough drops, medicines, and an empty tissue box were littered across the coffee table, clear signs you were not well. Your current state only reaffirmed her decision to take care of you. She moved into the kitchen and started to unpack the dinner ingredients. 

You woke up coughing and confused but feeling slightly better than you had been. As you were trying to make sense of your current situation, you heard your refrigerator door close. You knew you should have felt some sort of panic, but you didn’t. You listened closely for another moment before hearing the kitchen sink turn on. Confused, you shuffled through your living room into the kitchen. 

~

“Alex?” You asked, rubbing your eyes, “What are you doing here?”

“It’s been a few days since anyone has heard from you and I know you don’t always take the best care of yourself, so I figured I would stop by and check in on you.” 

“You shouldn’t be here,” you croaked out, “I don’t want to get you sick. I’ll be okay, don’t worry about me. I’ll be back in the office by tomorrow, no doubt.” 

“Sweetheart,” she started, calmly, “What day of the week is it?”

“Thursday,” you said confidently, though you really didn’t know.

“It’s Saturday.”

“No way.” She laughed at your skepticism. 

“Yes, way.” You stood in place, eyes squinting, confused by the passage of time. “See, this is why you need me. Now, take this and go lay down on the couch. I’m going to get dinner started.” She handed you a glass of water and some Tylenol.

“Dinner?”

“Yes, dinner, now please go lay down.” She pressed a kiss into your burning forehead before gently pushing you towards the living room. Doing as you were told, you laid back down on the couch. 

Alex, however, got to work in your kitchen. She had spent the morning in her kitchen, following your grandmother’s pierogi recipe. She figured making the dumplings would be a messy process and she didn’t want to make a mess of yours. Alex filled a pot with water, putting it on high heat. Once at a boil, she cut the temperature back until the water gently simmered. She cooked the pierogi for a few minutes, just until they floated to the top of the pot. Melting butter in a pan, she sauteed some onion and fried the pierogi until they were golden brown. She remembered to serve them with a helping of sour cream and chopped chives.

You were stunned when she set the plate on the coffee table in front of you. You were even more stunned when she began cutting the pierogi into smaller, bite-size pieces and began to feed you. When the first bite hit your tastebuds, you could tell the dumplings were homemade, and that you’ve had them before. It was your comfort food after all.

“‘Lex?” you croaked. 

“Yes, sweetheart?” She replied. 

“Are these my babcia’s pierogi?”

“Indeed,” she answered softly, scooping another bite into your mouth.

“How did you-” you pause, losing your train of thought. 

“Get the recipe?” You nodded, “I may or may not have gone into your file looking for your emergency contact information so that I could call your parents to get it from them.” You stared at her for a few moments, a confused look on your face, so she continued. “You once said that there wasn’t anything a plate of your grandmother’s pierogi couldn’t fix. I just figured you could use a good comfort meal.” She smiled, pushing the fork towards you again. You were unsure how she could go through all of the trouble and be so blase about it.

“This is too much, Alex,” you squeaked, “You really didn’t have to do all of this for me.”

“I take care of my friends.” Again, blase, and a bit dismissive. She didn’t want it to be a big deal, because, to Alex, it wasn’t. She’d give you the moon and the stars if she could.  

“Do you do this for all of your friends?” You asked. She hesitated to answer.

“No,” she sighed.

“Can I ask why you did this for me?” Your brain told you it was probably her motherly instincts, but you wanted to know her reasoning. Alex stared at the dinner plate; You could tell she was fighting an internal battle, unsure of what she should say next. Alex met your gaze, her eyes shone with unshed tears. Concerned, you sat forward and rested a hand on hers. Her eyes darted left to right, looking into yours. Then, briefly, her gaze drops to your lips, and right back to your eyes. It clicked. 

You had assumed your chances of landing a date with Alex Blake were low, even though you two were the closest on the team. The two of you worked like a well-oiled machine, often working better together than apart. You spent so much time together in the office and in the field, that being alone was, well, lonely. More so than before you had met. Days in the office turned into evenings at one of your homes, simply enjoying each other's company. 

You noticed the signs quickly though. Whenever you laugh, you look her way, hoping to see her smile too. You sought her out in every room, and when you found her, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of her. You learned to hide it quickly though, she was a profiler, after all. And though you were too, Alex hid her feelings better. She was also in denial. She didn’t ever think someone ten years her junior would show any romantic interest in her, let alone a woman. The doubt bubbled within her, and the fortress she built around her feelings for you started to crumble. Tears she had been fighting rolled down her cheeks. “‘Lex,” you whispered, “It’s okay. I’m falling in love with you too.” You were shocked you admitted your feelings so easily, and for a moment you panicked. But Alex simply relaxed and a soft smile formed on her face, which calmed your nerves instantly. 

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

Alex fed you the rest of your pierogi and finished hers as well. You knew with Alex taking care of you that you would be feeling better in no time. She stuck around until Monday morning when she insisted you take the day off to recuperate, even though you felt significantly better.

“Fine,” you sighed, defeated, “I’ll take another day, but only if you let me cook for you later this week. If we don’t have a case, that is.” You found yourself lost in her eyes for a moment, just as she stared into yours. Soft hands cupped your cheeks as she swept some hair out of your face.

“I think I would enjoy that.” Alex smiled before kissing your forehead. “Now, get some rest, will you? And drink more water.” 

“Yes, Doctor Blake,” you replied. As Alex left for work, and the door shut with a click, you whispered, “I love you.”

As Alex shut the door behind her, making sure the lock clicked into place, she whispered, “I love you.”

[rose-pearls]

That's the kind of heartbreak time could never mend - Final Part

Previous Part

Everything is dark, memories appearing before disappearing and you can only float between them.

“It’s done. Snow is going to be executed. We won.”, you hear someone whisper, the voice resonating in the dark.

“We won and yet it feels like we lost, because you aren’t there.”, the voice sounds pained, and you can’t help but want to reassure the person talking. 

“Coin is holding a meeting with all the victors, she doesn’t want to wait for you to wake up no matter what we tell her.”, there is a long silence after that before a loud shuddering sigh can be heard.

“I don’t – I don’t know if I can do this, starting everything new when you aren’t by my side. I thought we needed a break, but it was the dumbest thing I could have told you.”, the voice breaks slightly, and you feel pained at the words.

“I don’t think you ever understood the effect you had on me; you make me a better man. My heart aches for you when you aren’t there and I just wanted to protect you from everything, but I couldn’t.”, a second voice says the person’s name and you hear some rustling before the voice comes again.

“Please come back to me.”, it’s whispered so softly you aren’t sure you have heard it but just as you try to figure out what you heard the voice leaves, and you are back in the dark.

--

“She wants to do a Hunger Games with the children of the Capitol. Says it’s to do a final game but I don’t believe her. I understand what you meant when you said you didn’t trust her.”, it’s a different voice this time but still a male one.

“Snow’s execution is today, I wish you could be there to see it.”, the voice says softly, and you try to think of who Snow is, when memories flash before your eyes. 

“I have to go, apparently it takes three hours to get ready for an execution. Or so Effie says. Don’t worry I’ll be back to see how you are doing after. We are both stuck here until the doctor tells us we can go, or in your case wake up.”, the voice seems hesitant before the voice from yesterday appears.

“Peeta, they are asking for you.”, the two whisper and you try to listen but ultimately fail as one of them leaves.

“I guess Peeta gave you the update. I voted no, of course.”, the voice whispers.

“I should get ready, but I wanted to talk to you first. The doctor said it would help to tell a story, that you can maybe hear it. Here goes nothing.”, the voice seems hesitant but after a moment he starts talking.

“During your first year as a mentor, you were scared out of your mind. You were the new Capitol’s favorite and was paraded around, everyone thought you had it together, even me. One day I went to the training center and there you were, sitting in front of some sort of punching bag. At first I thought you were training, and you were just exhausted but then your shoulders were shaking. The first thing I did was come to you and take you into my arms, you didn’t even flinch when I took you into my arms, you just wrapped your arms around me like you had done it a million times before.”, the voice wavers for a moment and you try to listen more, afraid of missing something.

“We had already talked during your tour but that night we stayed there all night long talking about whatever came to mind. Effie came to get you into the early hours of the morning, completely hysteric. You left with a soft smile and told me that you had enjoyed the time together and at that moment I never felt safer. Everyone tells you about butterflies in the stomach but when I was with you it was like, I had known you my whole life, like a puzzle piece fitting perfectly. I fell in love with you at that moment and never stopped.,” you can’t hear the voice anymore, not because he doesn’t talk anymore but because memories come back, slowly putting themselves together like a puzzle.

--

“Thank you.”, Finnick turns around to see you, looking at him with a small awkward smile.

“What for?”, he can’t help but ask, feeling nervous for the first time, not knowing what to do.

“For yesterday.”, you sit down next to him and Finnick smiles at you softly.

“Anytime, we help each other between victors.”, you nod slowly before looking at him shily. 

“It felt good to have someone to talk to that didn’t treat me like a broken bird, so thank you for treating me like a normal human being.”, he can’t help but feel breathless at her words, her eyes full of honesty.

“Well, you aren’t a broken bird, quite the opposite I think, more of a lioness.”, she laughs in response and Finnick can’t help but smile.

“So, tell me what your favorite thing from your victory tour was?”, he asks her dramatically, hoping to change her mind and she lets out a dramatic sigh before thinking.

“I would have to say district four, it’s so beautiful and the food is incredible. The crab cakes!”, she exclaims and Finnick can’t help but laugh at her dreamy eyes at the thought of them.

“Well then you are in luck, I know how to make them.”, she looks at him with wide, hopeful eyes and Finnick smiles in answer.

“You better not be lying to me Odair!”, Finnick laughs in answer and shakes his head in answer, but she looks at him dubiously, a small smile on her lips.

“I promise I’m not! Come by the apartment tonight and we’ll make them.”, he doesn’t even think before offering her to come and he hopes that it doesn’t scare her away but after a moment a blush appears, and she nods slowly.

“It’s a plan.”, she says shily and Finnick can’t help but smile at her before Johanna tells them to join them.

-

The crab cakes are more difficult than she thought they would be, but Finnick takes his time to teach her how to make them.

“You know I thought it would be easier.”, she mumbles under her breath and Finnick laughs before coming behind her as she pouts.

“Here, let me help.”, she doesn’t have time to wonder what he means before she feels his large hands on hers and his back against hers. She feels his breath against her neck as he whispers how she should do it.

“And there you go, a crab cake.”, she shakes herself out of the daze she is in and looks at the crab cake in her hand, looking perfect.

“I did it! Well, we did it!”, she says, smiling brightly and turning her head around and coming face to face with Finnick. 

His sea green eyes are looking into hers and she can’t stop looking into them, she can smell his cologne and he is so close that she can see all of his whimpers.

“You are so beautiful.”, he whispers under his breath, and she can’t stop the blush from appearing on her cheeks.

“Only beautiful?”, she teases him slightly, feeling breathless.

“So much more then that.”, he whispers before his eyes look down at her lips and look back up into her eyes, asking her permission. She manages to nod slowly before feeling Finnick’s soft lips against hers.

His hands leave hers to bring her closer by the waist and she lets go of the crab cake to wrap her arms against his neck and bring him closer. The kiss probably lasts a few seconds, but it feels like hours, feeling his soft touch against her skin and his heartbeat against her body.

The two of you look at each other slightly breathless as Finnick smiles at you lovingly.

“I think I put crab cake in your hair.”, you whisper shily and Finnick let’s out a laugh.

“Why don’t I go take a shower and you finish the crab cakes? Then we can continue this.”, there is a small suggestive smile, and you peck his lips softly before whispering that you will see him after his shower.

--

“Welcome back.”, the voice of May Everdeen tells you as you open your eyes, the memories still turning in your memory. She is smiling at you softly and you look at her with a sleepy smile.

“So, May, what did I miss?”, you ask her slowly and she lets out a wet laugh.

“A lot but I’m glad you are back with us.”, you nod in answer, and she looks at you determined.

“I do think there is something you need to do if you feel up to it?”, the somber expression that appears on her face tells you that this is nothing good, so you nod quickly.

“Anything, I just need some painkillers and I’ll be right there.”, May nods quickly before giving you the pain killers and leaving the room.

“Oh, my sweetheart!”, a loud voice yells and you turn just in time to see Effie coming in.

“Hi Effie.”, she stops for a moment, and you look at her with a small smile.

“Long time no see, huh.”, she freezes for a moment before letting out what sounds like a wet chuckle and taking you into her arms.

“Thank god you are back. I missed you.”, she tells you before bringing you into her arms and holding you tight.

“Now, we need to get you ready. So that we can shock everyone.”, she says while wiping away her tears and you nod seriously. She brings out a dark cloak and tells you to put on the rest of the outfit before applying a little bit of make-up.

May wishes you good luck and after that Effie and you leave towards the place of the execution, she fills you up on everything that has happened while walking there. A guard stops you, but Effie looks him up and down before looking at him unimpressed.

“Do you know who she is? She is with the rest of the victors.”, the man looks unsure for a moment before you smile at him awkwardly and he lets you get in. 

There are people filling up the stands, people are everywhere, trying to find a place and in the distance, you see the rest of the victors except for Katniss.

“Katniss will be there in a moment, so we are just in time to get you into position.”, you look around to see Coin upstairs, she looks down just in time to see you and she seems in shock to see you. You smirk at her, hoping that seeing you gives her hell.

Effie brings you closer to the others and before you can properly arrive Johanna turns around.

“Holy shit.”, she yells, and you can’t help but laugh un response as she looks at you gob smacked. 

The rest turns around to see what is happening and Finnick looks in shock for a moment before you arrive in front of him.

“Hi, Fin.”, you whisper softly, and he looks at you, blinking his eyes multiple times like he is making sure you are actually there.

“It’s really you? It’s not a dream, right?”, his voice breaks at the words and you feel your heart break, you take his hand in yours and squeeze it softly.

“It’s me, and I’m real. Back from the place I was, my mind back too.”, you tell him and Finnick takes a step back at the words in shock, but he holds onto your hand.

“Everything?”, he asks unsure, and you smile reassuringly.

“Everything. From the talk on the beach to our talk in the training room to the crab cakes.”, you tell him and Finnick lets out a sigh of relief before bringing you into a crushing hug. A sob leaves his lips, and you hold him as tight as you are able to. 

“I’m sorry you had to go through this, but I’m here know.”, he lets out a chuckle at the words before letting go of you and looking at you with wide eyes.

“It’s really you.”, he whispers before cupping your cheeks and looking into your eyes.

“It’s me.”, you whisper back and Finnick lets out a soft sigh before bringing your forehead against his.

“Thank god.”, you chuckle at the words before cupping his cheek softly and looking into his sea green eyes. Finnick smiles lovingly and you return the smile before bringing him into a short kiss.

“Not that I’m not glad to see the two of you reuniting but the show is about to start.”, Johanna says, but a grin is on her lips as she looks at the two of you and you smile back at her.

Haymitch and Peeta quickly take you into a hug and promise to talk after the ceremony and you have just the time to get into place as Katniss arrives.

She looks surprised to see you, but you only nod in response. You knew that she was going to make the right choice and as she shoots Coin dead you can’t help but smirk. Peeta manages to get to her before she takes some sort of pill and Finnick pushes you to the side to avoid the group of angry people going towards Snow.

--

“Well, there is going to be a trial for the girl.”, Haymitch says, and everyone scoffs around the room in response.

“I don’t see why, Coin was crazy, and she definitely had it coming.”, Johanna says, and you hum in agreement.

“I think we all agree but it’s part of the new system so I’m staying here until we know what is going to happen. But the rest of you are free to go, we finally did it.”, Haymitch says it while looking at all of us, his eyes a bit misty and you can’t help but smile in response.

“Don’t get emotional on us know Haymitch.”, you can’t help but tease him and everyone chuckles, but everyone looks emotional as they look around the table.

“I’m going back to seven.”, Johanna says after a moment, and you look at her with a reassuring smile.

“If you ever tell anyone I just told you this I will kill you, but I’ll miss you idiots. You were kind off my family for the last years.”, the group chuckles at her words and her eyes turn misty and you take her hand in yours.

“Don’t worry you’re not getting rid of us so easily.”, you tell her, and she chuckles in response.

“We’ll try to get together sometimes.”, Beetee says and you all nod in response, looking at each other with smiles.

Everyone starts saying where they are going until it comes to you and you feel Finnick slightly tense up next to you, not knowing what you were going to say.

“I guess that we are going back to four?”, you turn to ask Finnick, and he looks at you surprised for a moment before a large smile appears.

“Yeah, I guess we are.”, he says, not looking away from you.

“Well, I already know when we will all see each other again, at their wedding.”, everyone starts to laugh and Haymitch scolds Johanna, but she just shrugs her shoulders while Finnick and you blush bright red. 

--

“Mags, sweetheart slowly.”, you try to tell your two years old, but she has a mind of her own just like her father and runs towards the ocean.

“Dad!”, she yells as she sees her father setting up the picknick.

“There is my little princess.”, he says before taking her into his arms and tickling her making her laugh loudly. 

“And there is the most beautiful woman in the world.”, he says with a loving smile, and you can’t help but smile in response.

“Only beautiful.”, Finnick smiles brightly at your question.

“So much more than that.”, he whispers teasingly before bringing you in a loving kiss.

“Be careful mister Odair, it’s with those types of kisses that this one came.”, you tell him teasingly as you watch your daughter happily running round in the sand.

“You don’t hear me complaining.”, he says cheekily, and you laugh softly.

“Well, you will have to wait until this one gets born.”, you say and Finnick looks at you surprised before looking down at your stomach.

“Wait – you are?”, you nod quickly and Finnick smiles brightly before taking you into his arms and spinning you around making you shriek and laugh.

“Put me down!”, Finnick laughs in answer before setting you back on the sand and smiling brightly at you.

“I’m so happy.”, he whispers against your lips before bringing you into a heated kiss.

“Dad! Mum! Look!”, the sun starts setting and your daughter quickly drags you to see it closer. And as Finnick brings you closer to him, your daughter between the two of you, you can’t help but think it worked out better then you ever thought it would.

Well this is it! Thank you for all the support and hopefully you liked the story!!

Taglist: @nobody7102, @universal-s1ut, @wannapizzamymindposts, @ladyfiction, @readingb, @capswife, @bela-nov, @zendayabelova, @iwanttoleavekudos, @afraidofshrimp, @simpinformunson, @callsign-haze, @agent-grey-fics, @wolfiealina, @slytherpuffh0e, @certifiedsimp14, @sherlockstrangewolf, @dreaminglandsworld, @purple7theparty, @avoxrising

[jalapenobee]

Psst @luneariann i wrote a thing based off of your little comic here

The only way they could’ve ever known was by the little, almost invisible star he’d drawn on his calendar, right in the corner of the box labeled ‘April 29th’. Of course, Ane-san’s observational skills are through the fucking roof, and of course she had to tell everyone. Right before the mission. Seriously. What kind of sister is she?

Chuuya heaved a sigh and reached for his keys in his back pocket. Because the black lizard was incredibly skilled and smart but also so, so dumb, they ran around the port mafia base for nearly half an hour, alerting everyone present that it was Chuuya’s “glorious day of birth”. Tch.

On top of that, Akutagawa had disobeyed Mori’s orders and got himself seriously injured while fighting the weretiger. His left leg was torn open and then healed by the Armed Detective Agency’s doctor, but his pride had taken just as much of a hit. Chuuya didn't bleed any, but his arms and torso were covered in bruises.

That was probably the one good thing about joint missions—Yosano-san. At least she had come along this morning, courtesy of shitty Dazai’s call about “teaming up for a victory against a rather successful drug ring, for Chuu-chan’s birthday of course!” Ugh. Although…if they hadn't worked so well together, things probably wouldn't have gone so smoothly. Chuuya had to admit, they did kind of carry the team earlier, even if Dazai never shut up about double suicide or Chuuya's birthday.

What was even his deal? He was always clinging to Chuuya back when he was still his partner. Always calling him names and insulting his height. He wasn't even that short, okay? He's still growing. Just…really slowly. Anyway, Chuuya figured Dazai must hate him a whole lot to write a whole 27 books on how much he does.

Chuuya glared at the doorknob, which was not turning at all, and considered just picking the lock. A patch of red sat at the floor beneath it, and he instantly felt on edge. Blood?

No, a flower. Chuuya bent down to pick it up, the end of the stem pinched between his index finger and thumb. It looked fresh, and a small droplet of water clung to a flaming petal. A red camelia. 

Don't blame him, okay? Ane-san taught him about flowers, it's not like he learned their names out of his own free will.

There was a piece of paper tied to the stem, and Chuuya flipped it over. 

"Oh my god."

Chuuya groaned and ripped the note off, giving up and picking the lock to his apartment. Of course. Of course Dazai had to be the one to leave him something. How does he even remember where Chuuya lives? Did he follow him home? He was sure he hadn't been tailed, but still…

He tossed the flower on the kitchen counter by the door, along with his keys. He propped his elbows up on it and stared at the camelia. Past the..ugh…Dazai-ness of it all, he begrudgingly admitted that it was a somewhat sweet gesture. Chuuya shook his head. He was a port mafia executive with a reputation to keep. He could not be going soft for assholes like Dazai.

And yet, he made no effort to stop himself as he found an empty wine bottle and filled it with water, carefully (ugh) slipping the camelia in. He found himself exiting his apartment and picking up the note he'd discarded on the floor earlier. He rubbed it between his fingers as he went back inside and pinned it to his corkboard, already full of documents, blueprints, and photos taken without his consent of him and the others at the port mafia. He eyed the new addition, then chuckled to himself and walked off to find something to eat.

"Happy birthday, slug"

Heh. Dazai's really something else, isn't he?

[dat-soldier]

oh girl i'm doing Real bad mentally

ever since i started HRT, my undiagnosed, unmedicated ADD started getting much, much worse to the point I can barely work on commissions. I can't take breaks either because I need to save up thousands for a surgery this September. The mental fog, the low energy, sleepiness and executive dysfunction are kicking my ass.

I've been seeing my family doctor about starting medication but she said without a proper diagnosis, she can't really do anything. I book a neuropsychologist, and get told it's gonna be a couple meetings with a final meeting to discuss the results. But then it's 5 meetings. And then it's an indeterminate amount. And meanwhile I still can't fuckin work or do chores!! Not without great effort that leaves me exhausted at the end of the day... Like I get it we gotta diagnose it correctly and every person is different but. I really need medication. It wasn't this bad and I need to work. I then get told they don't really diagnose and prescribe there and tell me I should go to my family doctor so basically they're playing ball with my damn problem and I can't see medication coming any time soon.

I just want some damn help with my mangled ass brain. I even get told What would you do if we didn't find what you have. Well girl I'll see another neuropsychologist until I fuckin find one who can help me get under medication, what a question. I pay you 130 Canadian dollars per hour can't you figure this out in a set amount of time instead of dangling the possibility of endless meetings. I'm just sitting here waiting for a resolution so I can feel like a damn human being again. This is the most disabled I've ever been mentally but yknow how it is, unless you lash out and become a real problem you don't ever get taken seriously.

it shouldnt be this hard is all

[clowngames]

This is a dangerous question.

How would you build a House spin off game for the PlayStation II or Xbox 360 that would be nostalgic to people who were born in 1994.

So this is interesting, because the TellTale style would be great for House, if you ignore the way the dialogue selection would mess with the pacing of a House episode - but that wasn't popularized until the PS3 era, so we'd have to get more basic.

My first impulse is to ask what we want out of a House tie-in video game and answer that with "it should feel like an episode (or multiple) of House." House has a solid formula, which is:

Patient comes in with a problem.

House and co. try to treat it as they try and figure it out.

Patient gets worse, sometimes in direct response to treatments.

These often manifest as new symptoms, which House and co. can use to get a more accurate reading.

By the end, they figure it out, and most of the time the patient doesn't even die.

This is the same narrative arc as Wordle, so we know it can be replicated in a game. So maybe we start with a more complicated version of Wordle, where there are a bunch of illnesses a patient has and each respond differently to treatments, which give us clues we can use to get closer to the answer. If the patient dies at any point then we've lost the case.

This is a pretty good start but it's missing that PS2 late millennial gamer element.

It's tempting to add, like, platforming between the patient and the pills and call it a day, but House himself is famously not great on his feet. It's better to lean the other way and move more toward RPG mechanics. We want mechanics that value analysis and planning better than reaction and execution; that's more compatible with the spirit of House MD anyway.

But turn-based combat is really not the vibe. At most a conversation simulator where enemy HP is their patience for House's bullshit and when it reaches 0 they give in and do what he wants. I still don't love it.

What if instead it was a game where you got to decide what House, Cameron, Chase and Foreman spent their hour doing, each hour in the case. On the main menu during this selection is House's board of symptoms, and there's a menu where you can go through the file in more detail and see how the case is going. This style of gameplay would allow for extra menu options for "Deal with Cuddy," or rest mechanics that require that characters spend a certain amount of time a day sleeping. You could have a series of stats that determine each character's specialization which makes them more suited for certain tasks but still able to do any other if the others are unavailable.

Since actually having a mental glossary of every condition in the world is beyond the expectations of a given player, each character can come up with options to pursue in response to symptoms appearing, and maybe a Creativity stat can be tied to how quickly they come up with options. Naturally, all of their stats need to be able to be raised through practice.

Also I don't think the death of a patient should represent a fail-state for this game. Patients do die sometimes in House, and while there are long-term consequences on the wellbeing of the doctors when it happens they don't lose their jobs over it... until they do. I think the punishments for losing a case should be devastating enough that players want to avoid it - like maybe lose enough patients and a major actor quits - but it's not a run ender.

Instead, the campaign tracks how well you do across several patients, and gives you one of several endings based on the decisions you've made and your success rate. Of course there need to be some random elements so you can't just memorize the diseases, but this encourages multiple playthroughs.

In short, the ideal House MD video game is a Princess Maker.

[ozmatippetarius]

The Nembutal wasn't Henry's first attempt to poison Charles

Pretty late in the novel, Charles shares that Henry gave him a bottle of Nembutal capsules; Richard immediately recognizes this as a poisoning attempt and is horrified. (If you google "nembutal alcohol", like I did when confirming my understanding for this post, every result that comes up is a suicide hotline: that's how well-documented this interaction is.)

This isn't Henry's first attempt to poison Charles, though, although it's the first one recognized by the characters. Charles's "infection" that lands him in the hospital is. This one is a lot better planned-out and executed, and as a result is a lot less obvious to everybody. At this point Charles's mental health is in such a bad state that it's easy to believe that he could land himself in the hospital through poor self-care alone. I'll call out below a number of points that are pretty damning to Henry, though, from a narrative standpoint.

The hospital can't diagnose Charles's illness, and it resists treatment.

The doctors couldn’t figure out quite what was wrong with Charles. They’d tried two antibiotics over the course of the week, but the infection—whatever it was—didn’t respond. The third try was more successful.

If you've ever heard anything about poisoning cases, this will sound familiar. Even today, "It is difficult to determine whether a patient has been poisoned and, if so, what toxins caused the poisoning."

Henry discourages Richard from bringing Charles to the hospital.

After Richard picks up Charles, he tries to call Francis, who isn't home. Afterwards he calls Henry and is surprised when Francis answers the phone. Francis is clearly uncomfortable.

“Francis? What are you doing over there?” I said. “Oh, hello, Richard,” said Francis. He said it in a stagy way, as if for Henry’s benefit. “I guess you can’t really talk now.” “No.”

When Richard explains the situation, before Francis can give any sort of response, Henry takes the phone.

“Did you give him some aspirins?” “A few minutes ago.” “Well, then, why don’t you wait and see. I’m sure he’s fine.” This is exactly what I wanted to hear. “You’re right,” I said. “He probably caught cold sleeping out of doors. I’m sure he’ll be better in the morning.”

I'm obviously not suggesting that it's criminal for somebody to say the answer to a fever is "give him an aspirin, wait and see". I am suggesting, though, that narratively it's suspicious that Henry has apparently coerced Francis (the one person we know would be certain to say "go to the hospital") to come to his place, where he is clearly uncomfortable for reasons that are never explained to us, and takes the phone before Francis can make that recommendation.

Henry had opportunity to acquire poison.

“I mean,” he said, pushing his glasses up on the bridge of his nose, “that strictly in terms of virulence there are any number of excellent poisons, most of them far superior to this. The woods will be soon full of foxglove and monkshood. I could get all the arsenic I needed from flypaper. And even herbs that aren’t common here—good God, the Borgias would have wept to see the health-food store I found in Brattleboro last week. Hellebore, mandrake, pure oil of wormwood.… I suppose people will buy anything if they think it’s natural. The wormwood they were selling as organic insect repellent, as if that made it safer than the stuff at the supermarket. One bottle could have killed an army.”

Henry had access to poison Charles.

Just days before Charles ends up in the hospital, Henry has been in his apartment moving Camilla out. The novel actually goes out of its way to remind us of this, and call out that Henry has had his hands not only on Camilla's things but on Charles's that were left behind, by telling us that when Richard goes to the twins' apartment, "The place was ominously neat." (We've been previously told that both of the the twins are quite messy.)

Henry had motive to poison Charles.

Just a reminder: Charles and Francis were 100% not involved in the farmer's death, and serve as each other's alibis. I've written about this elsewhere, but I think it's clear that Camilla implicated herself intentionally to protect Henry (believing that Charles would never go to the police to report Camilla, when he very much would have reported Henry.)

We know that the twins' estrangement begins during the visit to the Corcorans' for the funeral. Francis speculates that Charles learned about Camilla's relationship with Henry during this time, and Richard is reminded that Cloke told him about a conversation between Camilla and Henry that he overheard on the phone, while Camilla thought he was asleep. Richard never gets more details of this phone call from Cloke, but Charles (who spent this entire visit hanging out with Cloke) certainly did.

I feel certain that whatever it was that Cloke overheard and shared with Charles was badly incriminating, and exposed that Camilla had been disingenuous about her involvement in the farmer's death. Imagine how shocking and awful that would have been for Charles to learn: instead of having participated in the murder of his friend to protect his sister, he actually did it to protect a man he actively hates.

I mean, this isn't jealousy. This is a more deep-rooted anger about a very serious betrayal.

“Have you talked to my sister?” he said to Francis. He said it in a very cold way, as if he were saying Have you talked to my lawyer? “Yes,” Francis said. “She’s all right?” “Seems to be.” “What does she have to say for herself?” “I don’t know what you mean.” “I hope you told her I said go to hell.”

(And I mean, if you do think that Charles is just jealous about their relationship here... this actually becomes quite funny. He was expecting Camilla to have spilled her guts to Francis about having left her incestuous relationship for another lover? Absurd.)

Anyway, this is all to say: at this point Charles is furious and no longer has as much reason to shield Henry for the farmer's killing. He's now a liability who could go to the police at any time.

This conversation between Richard and Henry while Charles is in the hospital.

As he said this, he trailed away. “There,” he said at last. “Does that look all right? Or do I need to open it up more in the middle?” “Henry,” I said. “Listen to me.” “I don’t want to take off too much,” he said vaguely. “I should have done this a month ago. The canes bleed if they’re pruned this late, but better late than never, as they say.”