#they found whats likely cancer cells but they are small

[willpowers]

im not dying. im not dying. im sick and cancerous but its small and treatable and im not going to die. do not fear my death, i will never die.

[kittenlittle24]

Courthouse

Request by @schnitzelbutterfingers: Tritter assaulting f!reader after finding out she is House’s weak point and then she just became completely depressed and then House kind of forces out what happened to her

I do apologize, I changed it a bit.

As usual, gif not mine, I adore comments, likes and reblogs

Masterlist

Parking the car, you angrily slammed the door shut before making your way to the detention facility. You paid the clerk the $15,000 bail before leaving to wait outside.

You leaned against the car, foot tapping anxiously, arms crossed. Limping down the stairs at the entrance to the building, a grin on his face upon seeing you.

“I called Wilson!”

“You’re an arrogant idiot.” You told him and entered the car.

You drove in silence, every time he tried to talk, to justify himself you were sure, you raised your hand to shut him.

You dropped him at the entrance to the hospital and waited for him to get out.

“I’ll see you in the office.” You informed him quietly.

He raised his eyebrows in surprise and opened his mouth to say something but instead shut it back up and nodded once before leaving your vehicle.

Later that day House got a call about Tritter who got a search warrant for his house and found a stash of about 600 pills, which of course made Tritter add trafficking to the charges.

Convinced that House is an addict and decided to apply pressure on his co-workers to testify against him.

When Wilson found out House had stolen his prescription pad to write himself prescriptions he came straight to you, he told you he lied, and said he signed them himself, however, Tritter noticed that the signatures didn't match, and as a result his car was impounded and accounts froze.

When the diagnostic team refused to turn him in as well, Tritter decided to go after all of your weaknesses: he went after Cameron by appealing to her love for House, not knowing it was no longer there. He went after Foreman by promising to help his brother get out of prison, and Chase by making it look like he has already co-operated, not that any of you believed that. The only one he has yet to try was you. Which made everyone uncomfortable.

Due to clubbed fingers, House diagnosed the patient with lung cancer, and tests confirmed small cell lung carcinoma, which has metastasized. The patient only had a few months to live. Cameron volunteered to break him the news which allowed you to leave for the day.

You made your way to your car, searching your purse for the keys. You jumped as you looked up and saw Tritter leaning against your trunk.

“Oh good you didn’t forget me, I was insulted.”

He half smiled as he chewed his nicotine gum, “Did you hear that I searched Dr. House’s apartment,”

“I’m aware.”

“Are you also aware of the fact that I found 600 Vicodin pills in his apartment?” Pushing himself to stand upright and fully smiling, “Should I say, your apartment? Found a picture of you and your mom in a drawer on a bedside table. I assume you wouldn’t want your boyfriend to go to jail and lose his medical license. It wasn’t Dr. Cameron that’s in love with him, it’s you. You know that lying to a cop is a criminal offense?”

Crossing your arms across your chest, “You think threatening me will help you convince me to help you put House behind bars?”

“If you don’t, you’ll face the same consequences as your colleagues. Just one phone call away from having your account frozen as well.”

Moving to open your car door, you tossed your purse to the seat next to the driver, “Good thing I went grocery shopping yesterday.” You snarked and entered the car.

“Is he worth your medical license?” He yelled.

Turning the engine on and reversing out of the parking space, you pulled the window down, “I’ll see you in court.” And drove away.

Entering the apartment, threw the keys on the counter, your purse was tossed aside and you walked straight to the bedroom.

House looked up from the piano, slightly confused at your lack of greeting. Marching back to the living room you dropped his pillow and a blanket on the couch before turning to face him, “You’re sleeping here until this mess clears up and you apologize to Wilson.”

You went back to the bedroom and slammed the door shut.

You woke up in the middle of the night, at first you weren’t sure what pulled you from sleep but you did when you felt the bed dipped.

“Get out.”

He laid down and put his arm around your waist, he kissed your shoulder blade.

“Come on, don’t be like that.”

Moving his arm off of you, you pushed the blanket back and sat up.

“Fine, you take the bed.” You said as you left the room.

He rushed after you as fast as he could without his cane, holding onto his thigh.

“Don’t you think you’re being ridiculous?”

Turning sharply to look at him, “Wilson got his car impounded because of you, that’s the only reason I came to bail you out. He cannot write prescriptions, everybody’s accounts are frozen, my license is on the line because Tritter searched the apartment and you don’t give a crap.”

He took a step closer to you, “He threatened you?”

Sighing, you rubbed your hand across your forehead, “Doesn’t matter what he did.“

“He’s a bully.”

“I don’t care House! You caused this mess! I’m going to sleep, don’t come after me because I don’t want to see your face right now.”

Sitting down heavily on the couch he saw his bottle of Vicodin on the coffee table. Reaching, he popped it open, shook two pills out, and tossed them back before lying down and settling to sleep.

After a week of separate sleeping and House and Wilson fighting due to Wilson cutting a deal with Tritter. He was offered to go into rehab, but no jail time. Of course, he believed that Wilson was only cooperating with Tritter to get his practice back.

You unlocked your apartment door, tired and cranky. It was dark and quiet. You assumed maybe your boyfriend used the opportunity you weren’t home to go to sleep in your shared bed.

You shut the door and entered the living room to see House passed out on the floor near his vomit, along with the prescribed oxycodone that he stole from Wilson’s dead patient.

Rushing to his side to check if he had a pulse, he turned his head to look at you with hazy eyes.

Tears streamed down your face as you looked down at him, “I can’t anymore.” You whispered, got up, and left the apartment.

The next day House went to Tritter to take the deal, but Tritter turned him down. Tritter found out about the stolen oxycodone, so he didn’t need yours nor Wilson's testimony to prosecute House.

He came back from court, he stood next to you in the kitchenette. You moved to sit on the opposite side of the table, as far away from him as you could while still being in the same room. House didn’t take his eyes off you the whole DDX. Soon as he ordered tests you were the first to flee the room.

A few days later, following Cameron’s visit the team performed electroshock therapy on the patient. He remembered his name after the treatment, but little else. You let his brother and Amy into the room. He didn’t react negatively, but he didn't recognize them.

The patient was getting better, despite his memory loss. The only side effect was that his voice had gotten higher. Wilson came to see House again and even brought him a new tie for court. House apologized to Wilson because he knew that Wilson was trying to do what he thought was best.

You ran into Wilson in the elevator on your way to the clinic after he came back from seeing House and was on his way to leave work.

“Did you force him into rehab?” He asked.

Shocked you turned to face Wilson fully.

He looked at you slightly horrified, “You didn’t know he was there?”

“Tell me what’s going on.” You demanded.

“House entered rehab voluntarily. A few days ago. I thought you had something to do with it, he said you haven’t been home since the oxycodone fiasco.”

You shook your head just as the elevator doors opened to reveal the hospital lobby and clinic. Instead of going to the clinic, you press the floor for the rehab center.

You found him vomiting in the bathroom, sitting on the floor, and looking miserable. He glanced up at you before lowering his gaze back to the floor.

“Didn’t think you’d come.”

Stepping forward, you crossed your arms across your chest, “Because you told everyone not to tell me you’re here.”

He shrugged once, “Tritter came to visit.” He shared quietly.

You sat down opposite him on the floor.

“Told me, he doesn't give addicts another chance, and even my actions are a lie.”

“You caused all of this.”

He nodded, “I know.”

Getting up, “Good luck with the trial.”

“Will you be there?”

You paused at the bathroom doorway, “I haven’t decided yet.” You said honestly and left.

You got to the hearing as Tritter gave his testimony about House taking another patient's drugs. You sat beside Wilson and he held your hand in silent support. Everyone paused to stare at House as his phone rang, the team (minus you) called House in court to say that the patient’s memories were false. House ignored the judge’s instructions to give up his cell phone and made a smarmy comment to the judge. You rolled your eyes and looked at Wilson in despair. He then left the courthouse and the judge found him in contempt.

On his way out of the courtroom, he noticed you sitting and winched, making you even angrier.

House came back to find Cuddy on the stand. She told the court that she had the pharmacist substitute placebos for the oxycodone because she was afraid that House would be in a particularly vulnerable state. She even had an inventory report to back it up. Tritter accused her of perjury, but she only held back the inventory report because she didn't expect the matter to go this far, she said and looked at you this time. The judge chastised House and dismissed the charges, not before instructing the bailiff to incarcerate House overnight for leaving the courtroom, and ordered House to return to rehab upon release from jail.

You went with Cuddy and Wilson to visit House in jail. Cuddy, furious that she had to perjure herself, told him that she would be working him harder than ever and left.

Wilson gave him his withdrawal medication, which you figured out was actually Vicodin.

You waited further back until Wilson left, only then you neared the bars separating the two of you.

“Great way to celebrate our one-year anniversary.” You told him.

Sighing, he put his hands on top of yours through the bars.

“It’s just one night.”

“You didn’t even learn anything from what happened, those were still Vicodin and you got your way.”

“No, I got out of jail. Well, sort of at least. I hurt you along the way and I am sorry about that.”

“You should be.”

He chuckled, “I’m sorry.”

Reaching between the metal bars, you cupped his cheek, “You’re going to make it up to me. For the last few weeks as well as being stuck in a jail cell on our first anniversary.”

“Anything you want.”

[youremyheaven]

Shatabhisha & The Rahuvian Urge to Lie

In the light of several of you guys telling me about your experiences with Shatabhisha nakshatra natives who were pathological liars and overall terrible people. I thought I'll do my research 🤪😌and what I found astounded me.

Shatabhisha is ruled by the planet Rahu, which is known for its mysterious and unconventional nature. Rahu is associated with the shadow, the unknown, and the supernatural. In Vedic astrology, Rahu represents desires, ambitions, and illusions. It can bring both good and bad results, depending on its placement and the overall horoscope. Therefore, the lord of Shatabhisha can bring a mix of energies and influences, such as intuition, creativity, eccentricity, and spiritual growth, but also confusion, deception, and hidden enemies.

Shatabhisha is the final concluding Rahuvian nakshatra and I feel like the concluding nak of each planet is the most extreme manifestation of its energies but also the point where it transcends beyond itself.

Shatabhisha is associated with the deity Varuna, the god of cosmic and moral order. Varuna is also linked to water, emphasizing the purification aspect of this nakshatra. The connection with a thousand flowers signifies the blossoming of spiritual potential. Varuna (god of the rains/ cosmic & terrestrial waters, sky and earth). also, the mystical healer and the lord of “maya” or illusions. varuna is also sometimes referred as the “dark sun”, he influences the west direction and is active after sunset.

Given that the deity of Shatabhisha is the Lord of Illusions/Maya and Rahu is itself a shadow planet associated with deception, lies and illusions, its no wonder that these natives are often prone to lying.

Pathological lying is defined as "the compulsive urge to lie about matters big and small, regardless of the situation."

SZA, Shatabhisha Moon, Vishaka Sun is known for being a pathological liar

Here is a video exposing her lies. Tbh SZA lies about things that are so unnecessary and obvious??? she once said that BTS ignored her at an event when there's video proof of them interacting and hugging each other 😭😭She has lied about her real hair, fake freckles, her age, used to say she was a marine biologist, being allergic to fruit & more. It’s mostly little lies that literally don’t even make sense why she is even lying about it.

I feel like being dishonest is a broadly Nodal trait (no offence u guys lmao) and SZA's chart is dominated by Nodal naks. She has Venus in Mula, Mars in Swati, Jupiter in Ardra to make matters worse she has Ketu in Ashlesha (Ashleshas can be hella manipulative) and Vishaka Sun & Mercury (Vishaka is a rakshasa gana nak which means these natives are veryy self serving)

Jameela Jamil, Shatabhisha Sun, Ketu in Swati

Tbh I can't keep track of everything Jameela has lied about because she lies a lot. Here's an article that goes into it. She has a thing for claiming she has suffered from or is currently suffering from a ton of different illnesses (mercury poisoning, celiac disease, a rare tissue disorder, a breast cancer scare, she's deaf in one ear, severe peanut allergy etc) and just a ton of other sketchy stuff in general lol

Halsey, Swati Rising & Mercury (She also has Hasta Sun)

Halsey has always claimed to be half black when in reality she is 1/4th black (her dad is half black), she allegedly suffers from Ehlers-Danlos syndrome, Sjogren's syndrome, Mast Cell Activation Syndrome, POTS etc i don't want to speculate about someone's health but whenever someone talks about having more than 2 serious chronic conditions, it just feels hella sus??? She said she was kicked out of her house as a teenager by her parents but someone who went to highschool with her apparently exposed her saying that wasn't true and that she left on her own to pursue music. Halsey also claimed to have been some sort of edgy misfit outcast in highschool and the same person said she was actually pretty popular and was very good at Art

Victoria Beckham, Venus conjunct Jupiter in Shatabhisha and Ardra Rising

She is certainly not the only one who has tried to convince us that her chest looks the way it does because of a push-up bra. But Victoria Beckham overdid it with her lies. She had been denying for years that she had undergone surgery for a breast augmentation. But then, one sunny day in July 2009, she slipped up. It happened before an L.A. Dodgers baseball game, where Victoria was given the honor of throwing the first pitch. She walks off the field, and says loudly in her mic that she is a bit worried her pitch would displace her implants. Boom! The truth was out! Her D-cups remained intact, but the damage to her reputation was done. Some years later, the former Spice Girls member had a reduction, and she now claims she regrets of having had the surgery in the first place. She also very recently claimed she grew up super working class when its pretty much public knowledge that she's from a vvv wealthy background (her nickname is literally Posh Spice?? like girl???)

Taylor Swift, Ardra Moon, Ketu in Ashlesha

This has turned into one of the biggest social media scandals in Hollywood in the past decade. It all started with the notorious line in Kanye West’s song Famous: ‘I feel like me and Taylor might still have sex/Why? I made that b**ch famous”. Swift’s reaction to these derogatory lyrics was …well… swift and brutal. She complained about being victimized by West and him taking the credit for her success. But then the Invincible Kim took matters into her hands. She broke the internet by posting a Snapchat video of a conversation between Swift and West, in which Swift was saying she had no problem with the lyrics. That was a huge blow as Swift had been whining for weeks about how she had insisted on being “excluded from the narrative.” Sister, if you really wanted to be excluded from the narrative, you should have said that first thing when the rapper called you to ask for your consent!

She also acts like some country gal when her dad is a stockbroker and she grew up on like a 200 acre farm and had her career handed to her lol

I feel like Nodal girlies love to play victim, along with Moon dominants & Ashleshas

Tyga- Ashlesha Moon conjunct Ketu

He grew up in a rich family in LA but claimed to be from the 'hood lol

Robert Pattinson- Ardra Moon

He has admitted that he lies all the time in interviews lol tbh its kinda funny

Here's an article about it. my fav bit is the one time he lied about hating the circus because he saw a clown die as a kid lmfao

Grimes, Shatabhisha Mercury

Grimes lied about throwing a snowball at Queen Elizabeth II's motorcade when she was visiting Vancouver. Somebody pointed out that on that day there was no snow in the city, so it was impossible for her to make a snowball, let alone throw one.

 She lies about bizarre things that she doesn't even need to bring up. Like, telling Rolling Stone magazine she had to get over her fears and conceive X by having unprotected sex and letting Elon cum inside her. Later, the Isaacson book proved it was IVF 🤡🤡

She has also been accused of having lied about being homeless in the past

Lana Del Rey- Ardra Sun

There is an old interview with some guy who studied with her and he said she used to lie all the time lol It was really interesting to see someone in her inner circle kinda reflect on that. His name is Ron Pope. He said

“Actually, I knew her in New York many, many years ago, when she was still going by her real name, Lizzy Grant. And I thought that she was endlessly fascinating, because she was always kind of expressing herself by being a character. She would tell you a story and you're like, "I don't think that's true, but I don't care."

Well, after we were introduced, she told me that she grew up in Arkansas in a trailer park, and was raised by her grandmother. But I'd already known that she was from a family of means in New York. So I was just like, "Huh, you don't say, Arkansas, trailer park." But it was like being around a performance artist. It's not like they're a pathological liar or something, they're just a person creating a character.”

Lana lied about her age at the beginning of her career and to this day she says she grew up poor and is "white trash" when she went to a private boarding school as a teenager ???

Lady Gaga, Swati Moon conjunct Ketu

Gaga once told that she was bullied in school to the point of being thrown into a trash can because she was "eccentric and theatrical", when in fact she went to one of the most expensive schools in New York (which makes unlikely that something like this would go that far).

There was a bit that she claimed her aunt possessed her and wrote a poem, which she showed to her fans on live stream; someone googled that poem and found it online.

When Amy Winehouse died, Lady Gaga told a reporter she couldn't speak a thing for 48 hours.

When recording the scene where Maurizio is killed, the only thing that went through her mind was "What did I do?"; also, she claims that she spoke with Italian accent for 6 months after the footage was finished.

Kylie Jenner, Ashlesha Sun, Swati Moon

she lied about not getting plastic surgery for yearssss, claiming she just gained weight or whatever lol

Sara Ali Khan, Ashlesha Sun, Shatabhisha Moon

She's descended from royalty on her father's side, her mother comes from a very influential family, both her parents are successful actors, she went to fkn Columbia University for her undergrad yet she claims to be a "normal middle class girl" and says that she does not pay for mobile roaming cause its too expensive?? 😩😂and she is known for her PR stunts lmao, just a few days ago she was "spotted" helping underprivileged people when its sooo obvious that she called the paps to film her lmfao

Zayn Malik, Shatabhisha Venus & Rising

When Zayn Malik quit One Direction, he claimed it was so that he could shy away from the spotlight and lead a normal life. I don't know about you, but most 22-year-olds aren't releasing solo albums. Considering Malik debuted his first solo track only a week after leaving the band, it appears as though he lied about the reason for leaving. Especially since he's released a lot of solo music. In an interview with Billboard, he came clean about One Direction not being what he expected. So, I guess he just got fed up with the boy band life, huh? He could've just been honest from the beginning, though. 

Steve Rannazzisi, Ardra Sun & Moon, Venus in Ashlesha atmakaraka

The League actor Steve Rannazzisi lied about being in the World Trade Center on 9/11. He originally had an elaborate story about that tragic day prompting him to pick up and move to Los Angeles to pursue his comedy dreams. But in September 2015, Rannazzisi said:

I was not at the Trade Center on that day. I don't know why I said this. This was inexcusable. I am truly, truly sorry.

As he says himself, this is a pretty "inexcusable" lie. I will say, though, at least he came clean about it. When it comes to honesty, better late than never.

Galileo Galilei- Shatabhisha Sun, Ashlesha Rising

Galileo was more convinced that Earth revolves around the sun. This led to his trial in 1616. Galileo obeyed the church order to end all discussion on the matter. But after 16 years, he published a book that the Catholic Church could not accept at the time.

I thought I should include him because this is such a huge example of telling the truth?? even at great personal odds?? imagine being the one to stand up to the goddamn church in an era where everyone was convinced the sun revolved around the earth lol??

it goes to show that not everyone with certain placements will turn out to be liars and deceivers.

Kurt Gerstein- Shatabhisha stellium, Saturn, Ketu and Rising

Kurt Gerstein was a deeply contradictory figure, who's life and work bear examination as an example of how a deeply flawed person can still try to do admirable things.

Born to a virulently authoritarian and later aggressively pro-Nazi father, he grew up in strongly ultranationalist circles. At university, at his father's behest, he joined a far right student association/fraternity.

At the same time, he became involved with the Confessing Church, an organisation dedicated to fighting back against Nazi influence in the Protestant churches, who's membership included a number of prominent German resistance figures. He spent a small amount of time in prisons and in camps for distributing anti-Nazi material, but his father's influence allowed him to escape serious punishment.

In 1941, he joined the SS, in his own words "acting as an agent of the Confessing Church." Shortly beforehand he discovered his sister in law had been murdered as part of what we know as Aktion-T4, the genocide of the mentally ill and physically disabled. His plan was to get inside, find whatever evidence of crimes and atrocities he could, and get them published for all the world to see.

Due to his experience in pest control and water purification, he was made head of the subsection of the SS responsible for supplying Zyklon B, an industrial rat poison, to a variety of sites in Poland. When he asked what the obscene quantities of poison gas could possibly be being used for, he was invited to witness the camps himself.

He attempted to tell the world of what he had seen at Belzec and Treblinka, telling a Swedish diplomat, a Swiss diplomat, A Dutch resistance man, and anyone else he could get his hands on, but nobody really took notice.

He spent years trying to get the story out, until in 1945 he surrendered to a French officer, telling him everything in the hope that his testimony could be used to prosecute senior Nazis and camp officials. He was given a hotel room and a typewriter and told to write his report.

After he was done, he was treated as a war criminal and transferred to a military prison where he was found hanged in his cell, likely driven to suicide by what he viewed as the final failure of his task.

After his death, his report has continued to be used as one of the definitive accounts of the Holocaust, being used in the Nuremberg Trials, the Eichmann trial, and the trial of David Irving.

Once again, it is possible to have these placements and still tell the truth and stand up for the truth. our birth chart reveals our natural tendencies, what we must do is rise above them. and contrary to popular belief, we can rise above our nature.

I hope this was interesting xx

[afeelgoodblog]

1. Girl with incurable cancer recovers after pioneering treatment

A girl’s incurable cancer has been cleared from her body after what scientists have described as the most sophisticated cell engineering to date. Alyssa, whose family do not wish to give their surname, was diagnosed with T-cell acute lymphoblastic leukaemia in May 2021.

Scientists at Great Ormond Street Hospital for Children in London gave her pre-manufactured cells edited using new technology to allow them to hunt down and destroy cancerous T-cells without attacking each other. Less than a month after being given the treatment, she was in remission, and was able to have a second bone marrow transplant.

Can I get a fuck cancer?

2. The UK has made gigabit internet a legal requirement for new homes

Updated regulations require new properties to be built with gigabit broadband connections and make it easier to install into existing blocks of flats across the UK. Connection costs will be capped at £2,000 per home, and developers must still install gigabit-ready infrastructure (including ducts, chambers, and termination points) and the fastest-available connection if they’re unable to secure a gigabit connection within the cost cap

3. US cancer death rate falls 33% since 1991

The rate of people dying from cancer in the United States has continuously declined over the past three decades, according to a new report from the American Cancer Society.

The US cancer death rate has fallen 33% since 1991, which corresponds to an estimated 3.8 million deaths averted, according to the report, published Thursday in CA: A Cancer Journal for Clinicians. Partly due to advances in treatment, early detection and less smoking, report says

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4. Lab-grown retinal eye cells make successful connections, open door for clinical trials to treat blindness

Retinal cells grown from stem cells can reach out and connect with neighbors, according to a new study, completing a “handshake” that may show the cells are ready for trials in humans with degenerative eye disorders.

Over a decade ago, researchers from the University of Wisconsin–Madison developed a way to grow organized clusters of cells, called organoids, that resemble the retina, the light-sensitive tissue at the back of the eye. They coaxed human skin cells reprogrammed to act as stem cells to develop into layers of several types of retinal cells that sense light and ultimately transmit what we see to the brain.

5. The ozone layer is on track to recover in the next 40 years, the United Nations says

The Earth's ozone layer is on its way to recovering, thanks to decades of work to get rid of ozone-damaging chemicals, a panel of international experts backed by the United Nations has found.

The ozone layer serves an important function for living things on Earth. This shield in the stratosphere protects humans and the environment from harmful levels of the sun's ultraviolet radiation. In the latest report on the progress of the Montreal Protocol, the U.N.-backed panel confirmed that nearly 99% of banned ozone-depleting substances have been phased out.

6. Uganda declares an end to Ebola outbreak

The Ugandan government has declared an end to its Ebola outbreak, less than four months after cases were first reported. Since 20 September, 56 people have died from the virus, which is spread through body fluids, and there have been 142 confirmed infections.

The country has reported no new infections in more than 42 days – twice the maximum incubation period of the virus, a World Health Organization benchmark for a country to be declared Ebola-free.

7. Doggy ‘daycare’ bus in Alaska goes viral on TikTok

Check them out here:

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[walkswithmyfather]

“O Sovereign Lord! You made the heavens and earth by your strong hand and powerful arm. Nothing is too hard for you!” —Jeremiah 32:17

“No Problem Too Big (Or Too Small)” By One Minute Devotions:

“Nothing is too hard for God. If God can breathe and stars appear (Psalm 33:6), what is it about our problems that seem too big for Him? Are the problems in our lives too big for God? Or do we just think they are too big? Perhaps we think they’re too small? Maybe you hit your knees when the doctor says cancer, but what if you can’t find your keys?

One night I lost my keys at church. I was the last one to leave. I was about to lock up when I realized I didn’t know where I had left my keys. Not only that, there was a big storm coming, and I really needed to get home before it hit. While I was frantically looking for my keys, my cell phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number, so I dismissed it and kept on looking. It rang again. And a few minutes later, a third time. I decided I had better talk to whoever it was, if for no other reason than to get them to stop calling me.

When I answered the phone, I was surprised to hear the voice of one of my long-time friends. We hardly ever talk on the phone and she was calling from a different number. I sensed an urgency in her voice. “I was praying,” she said, “And I felt like the Lord wanted me to call you. Is everything okay?”

“I can’t find my keys!” I told her, “and I need you to pray.” I remembered several times when she had lost something and asked God to help her find it. To my friend, nothing is too big or too small to ask God for. On more than one occasion, she had prayed and found a lost set of keys. She agreed to pray, and we hung up the phone. No sooner than I had ended the call than I knew exactly where I had left the keys! I went straight to the spot, and there they were.

I learned that day that God cares about the things that are important to me. He made the heavens and the earth by His strong and powerful arm. He breathed and stars appeared. He prompted a friend to call me and pray for a lost set of keys. Nothing is too hard for God - not the big things, and not even the small things.”

[scekrex]

Could you do an Adam x Angel Reader where their relationship is toxic(?) based on a song called 'Love Me Dead' but instead of female pronouns it's replaced with male pronouns? The song has female pronouns so I'm just imagining it with male pronouns.

Gosh I love that song so much! Gimme more song fic requests guys I love writing em ueuch

Love me dead

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language, toxic relationship, irresponsible use of alcohol

note: not beta read bc fuck you

Love me cancerously/Like a salt-sore soaked in the sea/High-maintenance means you’re a gluttonous king/Narcissistic and mean

Adam. The first man was quite the complicated topic to talk about, not only when you were talking to him but also when you were talking about him to your friends. Never in your existence before had you met a person as selfish and self-absorbed as the so beloved first man. You couldn’t understand how so many people liked - let alone tolerated - him, you couldn’t understand why so many people were attracted to his disgusting and truly rotten character. And yet you were one of those people who found him attractive - that was the thing you hated the most about yourself. You loved this man with your entire heart while at the same time every single cell of your body held hatred for the brunette man sitting on the couch in your living room.

Kill me romantically/Fill my soul with vomit then ask me for a piece of gum/Bitter and dumb, you’re my sugarplum/You’re awful, I love you

With a deep sigh that left your body in frustration you grabbed yourself a drink - it wasn’t something hard, just a light drink that would make it just that much easier to have him around. You weren’t quite sure how you did it, but you had managed to charm the angel up quite well, you had him wrapped around your finger while at the same time the both of you were very aware of how much you hated each other - because one thing was for sure: the hatred you felt was mutual, the brunette on your couch hated your guts just as much as you hated his and to that very day it amazed you that he was still willing to call himself your boyfriend - fuck it wasn’t even a private relationship, Heaven knew you were dating and in public he seemed so proud and prideful of it. In private, when it was just you and him in your shitty apartment things were different though.

He moves through moonbeams slowly/He knows just how to hold me/And when his edges soften/His body is my coffin

You emptied the glass in your hand, watching the man from the counter of your kitchen as you refilled your glass. Adam looked beautiful, just sitting there in the dimmed lights of your living room, watching whatever the fuck it was that he was watching and sipping on the can filled with beer in his hand. A shiver ran through your body at how disgusted you were by your own thoughts, you knew you should throw him to the flames, forget about him and move on to either live your best single life or find someone worthy of your love - because Adam deserved many things in your eyes but none of them were positive or even slightly nice. And yet there he was, hanging out at his boyfriend’s house, sipping a cold beer, seeming quite happy with the situation. The glass in your hand was empty again before you even knew it and you decided to simply grab the bottle instead, there was no use in refilling the glass over and over again. There was not enough alcohol in this house to numb your feelings for Adam anyway.

I know he drains me slowly/He wears me down to bones in bed/Must be the sign in my head, it says:

“Love me dead,” you mumbled to yourself as you took a swig from the bottle and headed over to the disgustingly small couch. With yet another sigh you sat down next to Adam, trying to bring as much space between the two of you as possible. The brunette turned his head to look at you for a moment, his eyebrow raised, he asked, “What was that?” But you simply shook your head as you tilted your head back, resting it against the shitty backrest of your shitty couch and took another swig from the bottle, “Nothing.” That was seemingly enough of an answer for the first man because he shrugged and returned his attention back to the TV, which caused you to sigh again. All of this felt so wrong and yet so right and perfect. You wanted to kick him out and pull him close against your chest at the same time so the only logical choice was to lean your head against his shoulder, eyes roaming over the TV to figure out what sort of trash the first man was watching.

You’re a faith healer on TV/You’re an office park without any trees:/Corporate and cold, gushing for gold, leave me alone

You noticed how Adam watched you out of the corner of his eyes for a moment, his body felt tense against yours before he exhaled loudly and wrapped the arm in which he held the can of beer around your shoulders, pulling you in a little closer. Being able to see him up close you realized how tired the first man seemed and you couldn’t name whether it was from Sera’s demands or from your relationship - it was most likely both though. Your body shuddered in surprise as the gleaming golden feathered wing next to you was stretched by Adam and curled around you in protection, giving you the false feeling of comfort and love. It wasn’t that the brunette didn’t love you, he did. But he didn’t love you like normal angels loved, he hated that he loved you, no one else did that. Well no one except for you.

You suck so passionately/You’re a parasitic psycho, filthy creature finger-banging my heart/You call me up drunk, does the fun ever start?/You’re hideous and sexy

You leaned up a little, careful not to spill any liquid from the bottle in your hand or from the can in Adam's and pressed a kiss to his jaw in return of having the golden feathered wing wrapped around him. The brunette grabbed the seemingly empty can with his free hand - the one that was not wrapped around you and had just been resting on his thigh - and put it on the dirty little coffee table in front of the couch. Then he turned towards you, his touch was so gentle, so caring and if you would be unaware of how much he hated you deep within him, you would’ve thought of his touch as sincere. But that wasn’t the world you were living in and yet you decided to lean into his touch and let him guide you closer to him. In the meantime he grabbed the bottle from your hand and put it down on the coffee table right next to his can.

How’s your new boy?/Does he know about me?/You’ve got the mark of the beast/You’re born of a jackal, you’re beautiful

Gently his lips brushed against yours, starting a soft and slow kiss as the hand that had been resting on your shoulder due to how his arm was wrapped around your body trailed down your body to grab your hips in stark contrast to the soft kiss. His touch was firm, demanding and maybe even a little possessive - though that could’ve just been your imagination. The brunette growled against your lips as he pulled you flush against his body before he effortlessly lifted you up and placed you in his lap, keeping you close against him. The soft fingertips on your jaw slid down to your throat and you felt how his entire palm pressed against it - the touch itself remained soft though.

He moves through moonbeams slowly/He knows just how to hold me/And when his edges soften/His body is my coffin

Adam’s wings closed around your body, trapping you against his body and if you were honest you didn’t mind it at all, you liked the way his soft feathers tickled your neck, the way his fingertips pressed into the skin of your waist, holding you firm enough to make it bruise and in God’s mighty name, you even liked the thought of carrying bruises caused by the first man on your body. The pace of Adam’s lips against yours grew a little hungrier, a little rougher and slowly started to match the tight grip on your waist - a soft groan fell from your lips and bled into the steamy growing kiss.

I know he drains me slowly/He wears me down to bones in bed/What ‘bout the sign on my head? It says:

“Love me dead,” Adam growled against your lips, causing your body to vibrate quite violently.

[violetsiren90]

All I Haven't Said | Namjoon/Reader

💜 Chapter 2 💜

Table of Contents: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3 (part 1), Chapter 3 (part 2)

Pairing: idol!Namjoon x f!Reader

Genre: Soulmate AU; idol AU; chapter fic; strangers to lovers; a bit of idiots to lovers, tbh; slow burn; eventual romance; eventual smut; angst (life is messy & hearts are complex); OT7 featured

Summary: You found your soulmate - or rather, he found you. Turns out he's an idol of much acclaim who needs you for very real and unglamorous reasons. What could become of two hearts so used to giving of themselves when they are confronted with needing each other?

Chapter Warnings: This fic is 18+, as is all my work and my page as a whole; Talk and depictions of cancer, its treatment, and the symptoms of both; implication of some disregard for personal agency by entertainment and medical industries; MC is diagnosed with asthma and experiences symptoms; flashbacks of a distressing situation; soulmate first touch & subsequent skinship; partial disrobing for medical purposes; medical setting and minor treatments; some social awkwardness; talk of food, eating, and alcohol consumption in the context of a soulmate AU

Author's Note: Chapter 2 is here! I tried my best to write Namjoon's response under the circumstances, but honestly I don't know how well it was executed. Let me know what you think in the comments/asks! I'm super open to constructive criticism and feedback. Also, I did my best with the Korean phrases and medical jargon. If anyone has more extensive knowledge on those subjects and wants to fact-check, please let me know!

P.S. If you want to join the tag list, drop me a comment or ask!

P.P.S. If no one has told you yet today, you're loved and worthy of love! 🧜‍♀️💜

"At night I dream that you and I are two plants that grew together, roots entwined, and that you know the earth and the rain like my mouth, since we are made of earth and rain.”

~ Pablo Neruda

Chapter 2: Touching Me, Touching You

    When you touched down at Incheon International Airport, you and Matt were greeted by a rather unnecessarily large party of Hybe personnel in black plainclothes wearing masks who snatched up your baggage and ushered you into the first of a small fleet of black SUV's. The member of the legal advisory team who had visited you in the states, Choi Kang Dae, was riding shotgun and speaking into a cell phone that had not left his ear since departing the baggage claim. In the row behind you was another man you assumed to be a translator, given his fluency in English, but who was currently chopping it up with Matt in Korean, and beside him a large, serious, silent man whose eyes kept traveling to you every now and again. You assumed that meant that the rest of the ensemble filling the vehicles behind you were security, which somehow made you feel less rather than more at ease.

The further you advanced in traffic through the busy streets of Seoul, the more anxious you became. A thousand questions began to flood your brain as your heart began to hammer in your chest. If all these people had come to meet you, were you headed to the hospital now? Weren't you supposed stop at your accommodations first? If you didn't, would you even have a chance to shower a day's worth of airport off before meeting your soulmate? Were you about to bond right now? Would people be watching? Would it hurt? Why hadn't you ever thought of these things before? You felt a familiar tightness in your chest and pulled out your inhaler. An asthma attack right now? They always seemed to strike at the most inopportune times.

Matt was suddenly turning to you.

    "Hey, you okay?" he asked, looking at the inhaler you were shaking for a second puff.

You slowly exhaled and nodded.

    "I'm fine. But where are we going right now, can you ask them?"

The translator asked the Kang Dae something in Korean, and after he responded, the other man turned to you.

    "We're going to the hospital. Namjoon-ssi had a seizure last night due to a prolonged high-grade fever, so we are trying to act as quickly as possible to avoid further complications."

Matt turned to the translator.

    "This should have been the first thing we heard when we stepped off that plane. I'm not trying to play hardball here, but we're going to have to be communicated with about every step of this process so we can decide how we're going to respond. This was in the contract, communication and a chance to speak with me before she makes any step in this process..."

Matt slipped in and out of English as the attorney apologetically reassured him through the translator of their full intent to follow the contractual specifications. You felt sick, and your heart continued to hammer - though now for different reasons. You had been worried about a shower while he was fighting for his life. This was no time for nerves. You had to fight for his life too.

    When the vehicle pulled into the ambulance bay, you and Matt were handed surgical masks and ushered, with security and other Hybe personnel in tow, through the ICU and into a massive steel elevator. You watched the round button number "5" light up red as Kang Dae pushed it with a gloved hand. After the brief assent, the doors opened into a space that looked like it was straight out of a Star Trek episode - floor to ceiling white, blinding fluorescent lights, and hospital workers covered from head to toe in sterile garments ebbing and flowing in urgent silence to and fro to the rhythmic serenading hums and beeps of medical equipment. You blinked in the offending brightness.

Your party was immediately approached by a small woman with a tablet and stylus who addressed Kang Dae. You heard your name mentioned. You heard Matt's. After a brief exchange with the Hybe attorney, Matt relayed that you were going to meet with Namjoon's oncologist. Kang Dae turned to address the security staff, and his words were met with nods and murmurs of acknowledgment except by the tall, serious man from the SUV, who responded to the attorney in a low but firm tone, his eyes flashing over to you as he spoke. You looked over to Matt, your brow creased in question. He watched as Kang Dae concluded the exchange and lead your now small group of four to follow the petite woman down a long, wide hall. As you walked, Matt leaned down to whisper in your ear.

    "It appears the indignant gentleman is your personal bodyguard. Seems he's reluctant to stay behind with the rest of security."

You glanced in surprised curiosity over your shoulder and caught a glimpse of the guard seated beside the rest of the team, elbows propped on his knees and hands clasped under his chin, a pensive expression on his rugged features, before he disappeared from view as you rounded a bend.

    The hall connected to a labyrinth of others, snaking off left and right, and punctuated with massive, heavy doors. Your guide abruptly swung left to face one of the entrees, flashing a badge card across a sensor which beeped, allowing her to push it inward. It opened into a suite of rooms much homier than the atmosphere behind you, though every bit as sterile.

In the vestibule was a small acrylic table surrounded by matching chairs. As you passed through you noted to the right, a small kitchenette, and to the left a rather large bathroom. At the end of the suite, you shuffled into a large room, separated on the far left end by a curtain. The space in which you stood was fitted with grey leather furniture, a tall bamboo plant in the corner, and a low acrylic coffee-table. An older, distinguished looking man in a white jacket stood from where he had been seated in one of the arm chairs and bowed. Your group bowed in return, and the translator asked that you be seated.

Dr. Na, as the man in the coat was introduced, would run through some last matters with you before you were to meet your soulmate. He relayed through the translator that this hospital was state of the art, Korea's finest, and a frontrunner in successful experimental treatments for cancer and other genetic diseases. The room you were occupying, he said, was a suite meant for long-term inpatient care, and would be nearly identical to the space you would share with Namjoon for the remainder of his inpatient treatment. He explained that Namjoon's condition has been detected far later than was desirable, and that treatments had included invasive surgery and aggressive rounds of chemotherapy, which had slowed, but not stopped the spread of tumors throughout his body. He said that Namjoon had displayed extreme physical and emotional resilience, but that his will to fight the disease overtaking his body had begun to wane with his strength and increasingly burdensome symptoms from both the cancer and its treatment.

At this point, Dr. Na turned to face Matt full on, and earnestly imparted to him while gesticulating at you. Matt's brow furrowed, and he nodded as he listened to the oncologist before turning serious eyes toward you. Kang Dae began to say something, but the doctor held up his hand while also turning his eyes toward you with an expectant gaze. 

    "Y/n," Matt began, interlacing his fingers as he often did when trying to choose his words carefully, "Dr. Na says that there is not a lot of research around treating cancer, especially at such an advanced stage, with the soulmate bond. There are accounts of it having seemingly miraculous effects on injury and illness, but none that have been objectively measured. It has been scientifically proven to a degree that soulmates bring about peak physical conditions in one another through the bond...over time. The thing the good doctor here really wants you to understand is that there is no guarantee that there is enough time in our situation. He says that bonding with him is going to be a major risk. If the treatment isn't successful and Namjoon should pass, that would mean your ultimate death soon after."

Matt's face had lost most of its stoicism. He looked deeply worried. He looked like he wanted you to get on a plane with him back to the States. He looked like he knew what you were going to do instead. You see, you had already thought about it - the possibility of death. You nodded.

     "Tell him I understand, Matt," you said calmly, "Tell him I'd like to meet Namjoon-ssi."

Matt stared at you for a beat, as if debating with himself before turning back to relay your message to Dr. Na. The oncologist nodded, and then turned to you and asked another question in Korean. The translator explained that the doctor wanted to know if you understood the basic implications of the soul-bond. You sighed. You did.  You knew that once bonded you would be reliant on each other for nourishment and survival until the end of your natural lives, and that the bond once established was irreversible. You knew the bond was initiated and maintained through skin-to-skin contact. You knew that the bond changed your body chemistry to no longer need food or water, and that food would eventually be rejected by the body like poison. You knew these things because you had done extensive research, not because anyone in the company asking for you to give over your body and soul had tried to make you aware. They had been interested in matters of signatures and compensation. How considerate of someone to ask you now, you thought with some contempt. You wondered what Namjoon knew, what he had been told, what he had been asked. 

     "I would like to meet my soulmate now," you said suddenly, cutting through the exchange between Dr. Na and Kang Dae.

All eyes turned on you, leaving in half-finished sentences a wake of mild surprise. "I know what I'm getting into on my end of things. You had expressed before that time was of the essence and I would like to be brought to him now."

Matt relayed your response to the group, and the doctor nodded. Soon you were being handed a hospital gown, and a sports bra, underwear, and socks from your suitcase - that you realized with a bit of alarm and indignation, you had not given anyone permission to retrieve - and were instructed to shower and change into these items. 

     You slipped into the bathroom and sank down on the closed toilet, dropping your head onto the little bundle of clothes in your arms.  In your first few moments alone in over twenty-four hours, everything was beginning to hit like a volley of arrows. Agendas, agendas. Hybe wanted your soulmate. The hospital wanted to beat his cancer. You wanted to help him live. But what did he want? Had anyone asked? Would he be honest, if they did? Not for the first time, something squeezed in your chest at the thought of him. But this time, it was stronger. Your head shot up from your lap. You had somewhere to be.

    After a quick and thorough wash-up, you padded into the hall where the little group awaited you. You were self-conscious in your limited attire, and you stood awkwardly, shifting from one foot to the next as people murmured in Korean. A nurse, who had joined the small throng, approached you, slipping a hospital bracelet with your name and Hangul characters and little numbers around your wrist and handing you a pair of grey slippers. Matt turned to you.

    "This is it, kiddo. You're going to go with Dr. Na and have your vitals taken, have some blood drawn, and then you'll go meet him."

Matt sighed deeply, his eyes searching yours. He took a backward glance and stepped just a bit closer, placing a hand on your shoulder.

"You sure about this?"

You nodded.

    "Yes, Matt, I'm sure."

He pulled his mouth in into a tense line, his brows drawing together.

    "That face you're making, that defiance in your eyes," his hand fell from your shoulder, "You could be his twin. I know I can't change your mind now. Nothing could."

You gave a knowing smile. He wasn't wrong. 

    "I'm gonna be okay, Matt. I'll see you tomorrow. Call my mom and tell her things went fine. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

Matt scratched the back of his head, regarding you thoughtfully for a moment before nodding. He bent to press a kiss to your forehead, and turned to make his polite goodbyes.

    The nurse ushered you down the hall and into a room that looked a little more like a typical hospital room with a gauze-covered table, a scale, and other vaguely familiar machines and equipment. After she had collected the desired data and taken a vial of your blood, she made a page in Korean, and then motioned for you to follow her. She took you down another series of passages and finally, when you were sure Theseus himself couldn't have found his way back, she stopped in front of a large steel door and scanned her badge.

Room number 594.

The door opened on its heavy hinges, swinging slowly inward. Your heart was hammering in your chest. You realized the moment you crossed the threshold  that you didn't have your things. You didn't have your phone, or your bag, or the book that was inside it, or what was between the pages of the book.

You thought about pear-shaped Italian cheese as you crossed through the kitchen area.

You thought about little Diana trying to stop your mother from crying as she lay on the floor of the kitchen, body shaking with sobs, as you moved into large open room at the end of the suite.

And then, there he was. It was all you could do not to gasp.

    You would never have recognized him for the man in the photo Diana had shoved into your face last week. Sitting propped up in a large hospital bed, he was covered up to the waist in blankets. His frame, though unmistakably large, was gaunt, and his white tee draped around him like something that used to fit - patches and wires visible across his chest through the cotton fabric. His long arms were thinner than they should have been, ashy, and littered with bruises. His head leaned back against the pillows, he wore a black beanie low on his brow, but not low enough to hide the naked skin where his eyebrows had been. His full lips were chapped and parted as he labored somewhat to breathe. The doctor was speaking to a tall man in a black tee and jeans beside the bed. Namjoon was watching them, until, suddenly, his gaze flicked to you. Your breath caught in your chest. His eyes were unchanged. Something flooded your veins.

    "I need to speak with Namjoon-ssi, please," you said abruptly, turning to the doctor and the man beside him.

They looked at you, quizzically. You cleared your throat to speak again, slower and more firmly.

"Could I be alone with him, for a moment? I need to speak with him before we begin."

The doctor turned to say something to the tall man, but a voice from the hospital bed addressed them in a soft, deep timbre. The tall man glanced at you and then at Namjoon and replied. They held a short exchange before both he and the doctor filed reluctantly out of the room, taking the nurse with them.

Namjoon sat further up in the bed, his face contorting in pain as you approached him. You stood a few feet from where he sat, your hands inexplicably itching to reach out for him. You clasped them behind your back.

    "Hello," he, rasped.

Even the hoarseness couldn't hide the warmth of his voice. You thought his eyes and his voice must be made of the very same stuff. You were suddenly a different kind of nervous. You didn't even register your own initiative to speak as the question came tumbling out.

    "Do you want to live?"

Your soulmate blinked in surprise.

    "What?"

You took a breath and repeated yourself, this time with intention.

    "Do you want to live?" You asked again. "I know there are plenty of people who want you too, but I want to know what you want."

He regarded you in intent silence for a long moment.

    "Yes," he said finally, his cadence thoughtful and deliberate, "Yes, I want to live. I wasn't sure I did, but I do. I do now."

You exhaled a little breath you didn't realize you'd been holding. 

    "Okay, good," you nodded, looking away from his intent gaze as you fought, again, the surging urge to reach for him.

His lips quirked into a little smirk at your reaction.

    "I was going to ask you a question too, but after introductions," those eyes caught yours again, teasingly, and the little smile deepened just a bit, pressing a dimple into his sunken cheek.

The misery he was living in and he was teasing you? You felt something flutter a little in your chest which you willed yourself to ignore.

    "I'm sorry," you bit back a smile, glancing away a bit bashfully, "I just needed to know that you had agency over what was happening here, that it was what you wanted. If no one else was going to give you that choice...well, I was."

He regarded you silently again before addressing you.

    "It's good to meet you, Y/n-ssi. I'm Kim Namjoon."

You couldn't suppress a smirk at his stubbornness, and at the fact that he already knew your name, like you knew his.

    "It's good to meet you, too, Namjoon-ssi," you replied softly.

He suddenly leaned back in the bed, wincing, his chest heaving a bit. You looked over at the heart monitor that beeped beside him to see that his pulse was rising.

    "Should I call in the doctor?" You asked in concern.

He shook his head weakly. 

    "Not yet," he pressed out, with effort. "I...need...to know..."

You stepped closer to hear him.

    "Know what?" He closed his eyes , bringing a hand over his chest as the beeping slowed.

    "You...could...die...trying to..." he broke into a bought of coughs that was obviously painful. Once he had caught his breath, he rasped, "Are you sure, Y/n-ssi?"

    "Yes," you answered without hesitation. "Yes, I'm sure. This is my choice. I'm sure."

He opened his eyes. You held each other in a silent gaze. He looked like he wanted to say something. He didn't. He merely nodded and asked,

    "You ready, then?"

You met his questioning gaze with a wry smile and what you hoped were steady eyes as you answered.

    "Ready as I'll ever be."

    After the staff had returned to the room, the tall man in plainclothes introduced himself as Sejin, Namjoon's manager. He gave you a deep bow, which you returned, thanking you in practiced English for agreeing to bond with the idol - something that made you uncomfortable all the way down to your bones, and which you tried to dismiss without being impolite. The doctor spoke to Namjoon at some length, gesticulating to you several times. Sejin nodded along as the nurse typed notes onto her tablet.

You felt a bit frustrated, being on the outside of what so immediately concerned you. You were on the verge of asking for Matt to be brought in when Namjoon turned to you. 

    "The doctor says that while he understands first touch is an intimate experience, that he and two nurses will need to be present to monitor my vitals. My heart is on the weaker side these days."

He looked almost contrite as he said it and your chest squeezed. You nodded understandingly. He might be your soulmate, but you knew this wasn't a meet-cute. This was clinical. What was about to happen between you was a treatment. The doctor continued, and a nurse came around the bed to where you stood and waited expectantly as Namjoon turned to you, this time with an unmistakably apologetic look on his drawn features.

    "Dr. Na says that if first contact goes smoothly, we'll need to begin treatments aggressively, which means as much skin-to-skin contact as possible. I guess they want us both in just undergarments."

Ah, hence the hospital gown.

You felt heat creep up your neck. Under any other circumstances you would have been upset at the lack of privacy of it all, but these weren't like any circumstances you had ever been prepared to anticipate. You were going to have to figure the boundaries out as you went.

The nurse beside you rolled up a chair for you to sit in beside the bed, facing Namjoon. She untied and tugged the top of your hospital gown down to place a heart monitor on your chest, your soulmate respectfully averting his gaze.

When all the necessary preparations had been made, you found yourself sitting in a swivel chair cranked up to reach the height of the hospital bed, socked feet not touching the ground. You were facing Namjoon, who kept sitting forward, much to the chagrin of the nurses who kept gently but impatiently guiding him back against the pillows. You felt a sick feeling creep into the pit of your stomach as you glanced at the second nurse wheel in a defibrillator. How bad could this possibly be? Would it hurt? You steeled yourself as Namjoon sat forward again, turning up the palm of his large right hand which rested on the covers beside you.

    "It's time," he murmured softly, eyes on you as you gave one more glance to the doctor, who nodded, and giving in to an urge you had kept at bay since you entered the room you slipped your hand into his.

    A jolt shot through your body like an intense electric pulse. It hurt, like relentless aftershocks of overstimulation to sensitive flesh...and yet if felt good. So good. You had instinctively pulled to yank your hand away from the pure surprise of it, but you had tugged yourself back to no avail. You opened your eyes (you hadn't remembered closing them) to see Namjoon, head thrown back against the pillows, lips parted and eyes screwed shut as he clutched your hand in a vice grip. You glanced at the heart monitor spitting out beeps consistent with well over a hundred beats per minute. Was that yours or his? But you couldn't very well hold a coherent thought in your mind as warmth began to flood your body, followed by a tingling sensation that seemed to fizzle up from the base of your spine and trickle down your limbs.

Raising suddenly heavy eyes, you realized that you were swaying a bit on your feet. When did you stand? And you were much, much closer to Namjoon - your hand was curling around the base of his bicep, your elbow in his palm, as you pressed every possible square centimeter of your bare arm to his. His eyes were open now and he was looking at you as his chest rose and fell. You returned his gaze, unfocused, drunk on the sensations spreading through your being.

You blinked as you heard the doctor speak, but neither of you tore your eyes away, and as if in a trace, as the nurses helped you out of your clothes, and you crawled into the bed and slotted yourself against his side, stretching out your right arm to wrap around his torso. Every aspect of the feeling grew impossibly stronger, the pleasure factor so high that it felt somehow wrong to be experiencing this with a total stranger in a hospital room surrounded by others. You felt Namjoon let out a shuddering breath. His arms had snaked around you.

The last thing you remembered before falling into a delirium was the nurse pulling the covers over your bodies.

    When you awoke, or rather, came to, you felt wrong. You rubbed hazy eyes to find yourself on a little cot. Before you could even wonder where you were or how you got there, the events of the previous day came flooding back.

Holy shit, you thought, you were in Korea. You had met your soulmate - and bonded with him. 

When had you even fallen asleep? The last thing you remembered was climbing into Namjoon's bed. Your heartbeat quickened. First touch had been...something else. An image of your soulmate gripping your hand with his head thrown back flashed through your mind.

No, don't, you thought, and pushed yourself to sit up.

In your attempt to move, you quickly realized that the wrongness you felt was that you were incredibly weak. It was a strange sort of weakness, however, one that left you feeling exhausted with every tiny move but wasn't accompanied by any sort of discomfort. In fact, you felt like you were floating on a cloud, if only one you couldn't find the strength to roll off. 

You were back in your hospital gown. There was a small table to your left with a lamp, a little vase of flowers, and white telephone. To your left was a machine much like the one you had seen beside Namjoon's bed beeping away, a little green line spiking and dropping across the monitor. A long curtain stretched across the space in front of you. You needed to pee.

As you moved to get off the cot, a sting of pain shot through your right arm at the inner joint and you realized that you had missed the IV drip beside the heart monitor. Clamping the IV stand you rose precariously on wobbly legs. You shuffled wearily forward, pulling the curtain back to reveal the other half of the room...and your soulmate.

He was sitting in bed, over the covers, in a heather grey tee and navy blue sweats, bare feet crossed at the ankles. He was still wearing the beanie, and his head was dipped down, immersed in the book he was holding open in his lap. The mid-morning sun spilled through the open window, bathing the suite in a pale yellow that blanketed generic seating furniture and a small bookshelf topped with a bonsai tree and painted clay figurine beside the bed, but left the abstract art piece on the opposite wall in relative shadow.

You were about to retreat back behind the curtain when a wheel of your portable IV stand betrayed you with a squeak. You pulled the curtain hurriedly shut, but too late.

    "Hello?" You heard him call softly.

His voice sounded better, you thought. Not nearly as raspy. You must look like shit, you also thought. Oh well, you needed to get past him to look decent anyway. And to pee. And he was going to see you probably every day for the rest of your life, so, bashfulness regarding your morning mug was definitely a waste of emotional energy. You heaved a sigh, and slowly pulled back the curtain, peeking through as you advanced a step.

    "I didn't want to disturb you," you fibbed, clutching the IV stand.

    "You're not disturbing me," he responded, shutting his book.

He was looking at you with a soft expression, reserved, but still warm. He looked a lot better than yesterday, too; it was unmistakable. His skin had lost a great deal of its previously ashy quality and the bruises on his arms had nearly vanished. His lips were no longer chapped, and, you noted, were full and naturally deep in color. His face looked less wane, though still thin, his shirt still hanging loosely over his chest and broad, sloping shoulders.

    "You look a little better," you urged, hoping to justify your prolonged stare.

He smiled. You were quickly reminded like a sock to the gut how pretty his smile was. 

    "I feel better," he concurred, "Thanks to you."

You looked down at your feet awkwardly. You had never been good at receiving praise or gratitude.

    "Oh...I'm glad," you mumbled. 

    "How do you feel?" he asked.

You raised your gaze back up to meet his, a wry smile tugging at your lips. 

    "Probably about as good as I look," you rejoined.

He pulled his smile into a tight line, eyes creasing. You thought maybe that was what he looked like when he was trying not to laugh. Suddenly you felt your bladder demand priority of attention.

    "Well, I'm gonna...get ready. For the day," you motioned, quickly realizing you had nothing to change into, and slipped back into the little room behind the curtain.

Scanning the space, you noted your suitcase and bag against the wall. You filled your bag with the essentials and a change before popping back out into the other half of the room on your way to the bathroom. You noticed out of the corner of your eye that Namjoon glanced at you before looking down at his book again, and you ignored the tight feeling in your chest one more time.

    Your mom had always said that a hot shower could make a person reborn, and by golly you figured she was right. You felt life seeping back into your limbs slowly but surely as the warm water poured over your body. As always, hot water and steam against white tile oiled cogs of your mind.

Clearly, the bond had served Namjoon well. You were anxious to know what a medical assessment would report. Your own exhaustion confused you, however. Wasn't the bond supposed to nourish you, rejuvenate you? When would you stop needing food? How often would you need to practice skinship now that you were bonded? And what would that look like? A thousand questions filled your mind as you massaged your scalp. You made a mental note to write a list of questions for the doctor.

    Once you had finished your morning routine, you felt infinitely more prepared to face the day. You changed into a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt. As you shuffled back toward your room, you noticed Namjoon bent over the bonsai, tiny scissors in hand. A nurse was typing on a tablet on the other side of the bed.

    "Um, Namjoon," you asked, as you paused.

He startled a bit as he looked up at you, dropping the little scissors and cursing under his breath. The nurse peeked over and when she had seemingly assessed that no damage had been done, she smirked.

    "At least no bonsai limbs were lost this time," she murmured.

Namjoon slipped the scissors into a little leather pouch.

    "Hilarious," he deadpanned, then turned his attention back to you, "Sorry, did you ask me something?"

    "Actually," you blinked in surprise, "I was going to ask you to ask the nurse, but I guess I can ask her myself this time."

The nurse smiled at you. 

    "Ganhosanim, this is Y/n-ssi," Namjoon said, addressing the woman. She gave you a bow which you returned.

    "Annyeonghaseyo," she greeted you, "I'm Nurse Cha and I'll be your attending on most days. Please feel free to speak to me in English," she smiled.

You felt a weight lift off your shoulders. While you had been studying Korean furiously ever since your decision had been made, having medical personnel you could communicate with at this stage without having to rely on Namjoon to translate for you was a welcome relief. 

    "If you have a minute, I have some questions? Or, I will, once I write them down. Could I just put my stuff away and come right back?" You asked eagerly. She nodded, still typing away on the tablet. You dropped your bag beside your suitcase, which you tossed on the bed and unzipped to extract a pen and a notebook with three little bees embossed into the cover. You donned your slippers and crossed back over to Namjoon's side. He was sitting on the bed again, and nurse Yun was examining one of his arms. You plopped down in an armchair beside the bookshelf. 

    "Nice bonsai," you remarked, trailing your eyes over the intricate geometric patterns of its shallow stone pot.

    "Nice journal," he replied. "Moleskin?"

You nodded, holding it up to show him the front.

    "It has bees," you said with solemnity, as if the whimsy of the endearing was something to be taken quite seriously, and Namjoon hummed in grave assent. Nurse Cha glanced between you, a smirk at the corner of her mouth.

    "You said you had some questions, Y/n-ssi?" She offered.

    "Yes," you began, scribbling a few down in the pages in your lap before beginning. "Firstly wha- Oh! What happened to me yesterday? Did I pass out?" You interrupted yourself to ask.

    "Yes," she replied. "While the bonding was successful, and the skinship was highly rejuvenating for Namjoon, it appears that you were giving more than you were getting from a physiological standpoint, and while the effect was still probably similar to you on a cellular level, you were disproportionate in your transfer of energy. We've put you on an IV drip for now to ensure you're getting the replenishment your body needs regardless of food intake."

You jotted down a few lines of notes.

    "Okay, makes sense. Now, moving on to the food thing - we're still eating, right?"

Nurse Cha began typing on her tablet as she responded.

    "Yes. However, there is great boidiversity as to when and what people start rejecting as far as food goes. The average point of solid food rejection begins around two weeks after bonding. Generally, bonded individuals are still able to consume water and distilled alcohols, though they become unable to experience taste."

    "Does alcohol have the same...effect?" Namjoon spoke up from the bed.

    "An intensified one, actually," she responded, "Being a bonded mate means rediscovering your tolerance, and caution is of course advised. We've actually taken blood panels to alert us of any food sensitivities you may have. These should be immediately eliminated from your diet, as the rejection symptoms can be more severe in cases of late-stage ingestion with these items. The doctor will be in later to review those results with you."

    "Okay. And how often will we need to practice skinship, and are we going to need to initiate it ourselves or are we going to be on a schedule?"

    "I was wondering about that too," Namjoon said, adjusting his beanie.

    "The doctor will go over that with you as soon as he arrives in a little while as well. I know I'm scheduled to update your charts every six hours, so I'm sure there will be some guidance involved at first."

You quickly glanced up at Namjoon and then down at your lap. A warmth spread through your chest as you tried to keep your eyes on your notes and off of his bare arms. You were having those stupid urges to latch onto him again. Your hand twitched around your pen. You wondered what his thoughts were on your next session.

Just then, Dr. Na entered the room. He greeted both of you warmly and Nurse Cha took over relaying the consultation in English.

The oncologist was very optimistic about the effect of the soulmate bond on Namjoon, saying that his vitals had stabilized, his pain levels were lower than they'd been in weeks and the inflammation in his body had decreased significantly. He stressed that, while these were good signs, they were not a guarantee that the skinship was treating the cancer, and that they would have to take scans after a time to see if the tumors had were in fact shrinking.

He reviewed your blood panel results, letting you know that from that point forward you were to avoid consuming nightshades while communicating to Namjoon that he hadn't tested positive for any food sensitivities. He showed you a chart dictating when and how long you should practice skinship each day, beginning with a session immediately following the consultation. He cautioned you to alert medical staff if during a session you began to feel overly-drain, as they did not want you coming to the point of fainting again. You were removed from your IV drip.

    After the doctor had taken his leave, Nurse Cha fixed you with additional monitors, instructed you both to strip down to your maximum level of comfortability for the session, and departed. Once you were down to bra and panties, you climbed up into the huge hospital bed to join Namjoon, who once again kept his gaze trained anywhere but your side of the bed as you slipped under the covers and pressed yourself into his side.

Suddenly it was as if you had slipped into a warm bath under the influence of champagne. You closed your eyes and sank into the incredible sensation of his touch. His skin was like a warm cup of tea on the coldest day of the year. Like the first refreshing moments of a plunge into cool water at the height of summer. It was everything wonderful all at once, and you were so caught up in the sensation that you were barely cognizant of a tiny moan escaping your lips. 

Horrified, you bit down on your bottom lip and prayed to all that was sacred that Namjoon hadn't noticed. His immediate soft laughter, however, betrayed him, and you felt your face burning with embarrassment - beads of sweat pricking on your forehead as you covered your face with a different kind of groan.

    "Sorry," you murmured, ruefully.

    "Nah, I get it," Namjoon chuckled, his chest rumbling under your cheek. "If it feels as good for you as it does for me, then that's the correct response."

You allowed yourself to giggle a bit in turn.

    "I'm glad it's already helping," you remarked, and you felt him turn his head as if he was looking down at you.

He was silent for a beat before addressing you again.

    "Everything happened so quickly yesterday, I didn't even get a chance to thank you."

    "For what?" you countered, even though you knew exactly where he was headed with this.

    "For leaving your life behind and coming to Korea to give a stranger a chance at his. I'm going to spend the rest of my time making it up to you."

You felt your chest tighten. You pushed yourself up on one arm and turned to face him. The sheet fell down your upper body as you moved, but you were too intent on looking him in the face to notice. 

    "Namjoon, you're not a charity case. I didn't do this so that you would owe me something. This is a choice I made. All mine. So relieve yourself of any debt you may feel you owe me. We're bound by circumstance, but you're a free man in every sense of the word. I won't be a burden you bear any more than you wish to be one to me."

If you had been looking through his eyes, you would have seen yourself, pressed up out of the sheets with all the modesty of a sea nymph, your features glowing with the effects of the bond and fixed with a splendid kind of resoluteness and soft defiance. But, you saw it from your own, taking in the quiet shock on Namjoon's features that slowly morphed into something you couldn't place. Not yet. You didn't know him well enough.

After regarding you blinkingly, he looked at you with earnest eyes and gave a nod.

    "I accept those terms," he assented, and you believed him.

You thought maybe you'd believe anything he said, and, suddenly aware of the bareness of your torso under the intentness of his gaze, you slipped back down against his side.

    "I noticed you dropped the honorifics," he murmured teasingly.

You glanced back up at him.

    "Oh...sorry, I'm not used to it. I can -"

    "It's alright," he interjected, "I think we should be familiar. It will make things easier, right? Only if you want, though," he quickly added.

    "Yeah, no, I agree," you answered, shifting to press your leg more fully against his, and smiling to yourself as you keyed up your next remark.

"And I'm only your noona by a little bit anyway, so no need to call me that..."

This time a loud laugh burst out of him that shook your head enough for you to roll away and shoot him a look as he brushed a hand over his eyes in amusement. You smiled as you took in his dimpled cheeks and crescent eyes, and nearly didn't notice the voice speaking in bemused and startled Korean at the mouth of the hall. It was Namjoon who looked up first.

    "Yah!" He called in indignation and warning as you followed his gaze to catch but a glimpse of two young men, badly repressing snickers as they bolted back down the hall to the entry of the suite. 

Namjoon sighed sharply and turned to you with and apologetic expression.

    "I'm so sorry, those idiots are my friends. They're used to coming and going as they please to visit me - which, obviously now they can't just barge in unannounced."

He slipped out of bed, and you glanced away as he pulled on sweats and a shirt.

"I'll tell them to come back at a better time."

    "No, no!" you protested, "Just let me get decent. I want to meet them."

Namjoon paused as he kicked on his slippers. 

    "You sure?" he asked, eyebrows raised.

    "Yeah, yeah. I know we're still on skinship time, but, maybe we can just...hold hands? I mean, as long as you're okay with it..."

Namjoon's mouth slipped into a wry grin as he glanced down to the other end of the suite. 

    "Yeah, I'm fine with it. I apologize in advance if they can't be."

You gave a confused shrug as Namjoon picked up his phone and crossed into the vestibule area to give you the privacy to change. You pulled your leggings and sweatshirt back on and perched yourself cross-legged on the hospital bed, listening with amused anticipation as Namjoon spoke in exasperated Korean on the other side of the wall. You heard the door and three sets of footsteps accompanied by giggles and shushing, and then your soulmate emerged, all but herding the two young men preceding him into the room.

You immediately recognized the strapping, dark-haired one with the leporine smile as Jungkook, the young man who had accompanied Hybe's representation to visit you on Namjoon's behalf. The other young man you also recognized from internet images as one of the members, though you couldn't recall his name. He was shorter than Jungkook, though not by as much as he should have been due to the significance of his heeled boots. What he lacked in height he made up for in athletic build and voluptuously beautiful facial features. He shook his honey blonde hair out of his eyes, earrings tinkling as he regarded you with a coy smile.

    "Ijjogeun Y/n-ieo. Y/n, this is Jungkook and Jimin," Namjoon said, gesturing to each of the members as they made polite bows. 

    "Annyeonghaseyo," you said, returning their bows deeply, "Mannaseo bangapseumnida - dasi mannaseo bangabseubnida, Jungkook-ssi."

Jungkook flashed a blinding smile, round eyes wide and sparkling.

    "It's good to see you again too, noona," he answered in English. Namjoon's brow creased as he glanced between you and the young man you had been originally introduced to as the maknae of BTS.

    "You've met?" he asked. You nodded.

    "Jungkook was one of the people who came to meet me in the US when your company made the proposition," you explained. "He spoke very, very highly of you. His reference of your character was one of the major contributing factors toward my decision to come."

You smiled softly at Jungkook. Namjoon nodded, brow still drawn, as he pressed his tongue into the side of his cheek, jaw clenched and jutting forward, as he clapped the youngest on the shoulder. You thought Jungkook's eyes were just a bit glassy as the two shared a look that seemed to hold a lifetime of history. Jimin regarded the two with sentimentality before returning his gaze to you, again full of enigmatic mischief. The blonde took a step toward you, then turned on his booted heal, saying something to Namjoon in Korean.

You cocked your head to the side, glancing at your soulmate.

    "He said I look a lot better already," Namjoon said, eyeing Jimin warily as the younger man continued speaking, flashing you a devilish grin. Jungkook pulled his pierced lower lip between his teeth as he glanced between Namjoon and Jimin. You looked again to Namjoon expectantly.

    Awkwardness radiated from him as he deflected saying Jimin was just making fun, and he shot the younger man a look that unmistakably communicated his lack of amusement. Namjoon made another remark in Korean, and joined you back on the bed, hesitating only a moment before he took your hand in his.

You saw his shoulders sag in relief as he breathed a sigh through his nose at the contact. You had to restrain your own reaction, glancing down shyly as to avoid the two pairs of eyes trained in rapt curiosity on you from the end of the bed. Namjoon continued to speak with them, translating between you when your limited Korean wasn't sufficient, and gradually your awkwardness eased in the comfortable presence that emanated between your soulmate and his members.

As the visitors were about to take their leave, Jimin trained you with a newly serious look, leaning against the edge of the bed, and glancing at Namjoon as he spoke in what you could decipher was gratitude. 

    "He says they're all so grateful to you and glad to have you with us," Namjoon translated. You noticed his thumb slide over the back of your hand as he said it. So did Jimin, his tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth as he eyed where your digits were intertwined.

    "Ah," you said awkwardly, "No thanks necessary, we're in this together, right?"

You pulled your hand from Namjoon's and in an attempt to raise your arm and give him a nonchalant pat on the back, you backhanded him directly in the face. 

Namjoon's hand flew up to his cheek and the two younger members erupted in laughter. You apologized profusely, trying to make sure Namjoon could hear you over Jungkook's wheezing and Jimin's shrieks of what you were pretty sure was "oh shit, there are two of them". When Namjoon had assured you that he was perfectly fine and the other two had composed themselves, you said your goodbyes. As soon as they were out the door, Namjoon was apologizing.

    "It's fine," you smirked with a shrug, "That's friends for you. I would have been concerned if they hadn't poked a little fun. I like them. I want to meet the rest of them."

Namjoon slipped back up onto the bed and intertwined his hand with yours as he glanced down, a pensive look on his face.

    "There's a lot of people you need to meet," he said quietly, thoughtfully.

You studied him as he continued to look down at your joined hands.

"In fact," he continued, "There was someone I was hoping you could meet tomorrow. Someone we should sit down...and talk with."

You nodded, regarding him intently.

"Her name is Kim Hyung-seo," he continued, "She's my fiancée."

AN: Yeah, sorry to drop that at the end and peace out. 😁✌

Tag list: @butterymin @little-dark-empress @aretha170 @kamilamb @jlee97 @thephotoend @callmenoona25

[frostfloweragainlol-alias-juno]

I need to know more about austin

Here some facts about him! (Not all but a good amount)

- His healing factor is faster than Wade’s (the lab he was created in gave him a maxed out version of Wade’s mutation and made sure his body was able to take on the massive cell regeneration), but it isn’t noticeable unless its about have to regrow limbs

He also has some side effects from it being that fast, if it isn’t something relatively small most of the times it hurts more than the injury itself

- Due to the time in the lab he finds very difficult trusting anyone, it took him a lot to trust Wade in the first place when he found him (after he escaped from it) and brought him home and even more to trust who that he introduced him to (aka his friends/family)

Including later on after the events of the movie Logan and Laura

But once he warmed up to all them he would do anything for them

- Always uses headphones to listen to music when doing merc business (Wade never wanted him to follow his footsteps but didn’t want to force him out of it if that’s really what he wants to do)

(He really likes Chappell Roan’s music among others)

- He loves musicals

- Blind Al/Althea is basically like a grandmother to him as she kept an eye on him when Wade was out doing merc stuff

- Laura and him basically act as siblings, they really get along since they had a similar experience in the lab

- he didn’t know Wade gone through when he got his powers for a long time

(i headcanon Wade has some type of side effects due to his body basically having cancer all over, and he avoided telling Austin that as long as possible especially when he just brought him home )

[lotus-tower]

Source.

[ID: A two-page infographic titled "T Cells & Covid-19: A basic introduction."

A box labeled "What are T cells?" Text reads: "T cells are one of the most valuable types of white blood cells in your immune system. They play a key role in keeping you healthy and safe from disease. They identify, attack, and destroy infectious agents (like viruses). T cells protect the body from infections that have reached the inside of your cells." To the left of the box is an image of cells.

A box labeled "Why are they called T cells?" Text reads: "T cells are born from stem cells found in your bone marrow. Once the T cells are created, they migrate to your thymus (an organ located behind your breastbone); this is why they're called T cells. They develop and grow inside your thymus. Once they're fully mature, your T cells live in your blood and lymph nodes." To the right of the box is an image of a simplified human figure. The thymus' location is shown in bright pink in the center of the chest, roughly in the middle of the collarbone.

A box labeled "Major Subtypes: Killers & Helpers." Text reads: "Your body creates several different types of T cells to keep you safe. Each of these types has a different role to play in your immune system. Two of the major subtypes are 'killer' (cytotoxic) T cells (shown at left) and 'helper' (CD4+ cells) T cells." To the left of the box is a depiction of a blue cell.

A box labeled "Killer T Cells." Text reads: "Killer T cells are nicknamed killers because they can actually kill virus-infected cells. They can also kill cancer cells--meaning they are super, super valuable. They have small signaling proteins called cytokines that they use to call for help from other cells when your body is mounting an immune response." To the right of the box is an illustration of what appears to be killer T cells fighting infected or malign cells.

A box labeled "Helper T Cells." Text reads: "Unlike the killer T cells, the helper T cells work by activating other cells in your body. By activating your body's memory B cells and your body's killer T cells, they set off an even bigger immune response within your body." To the left of the box is a depiction of a green cell.

A box labeled "What happens if you lose T cells?" Text reads: "Your body really, really needs T cells. When you don't have enough of them, your body's immune system cannot work properly, making you really susceptible to infections. And it's important to know that as we age, we don't produce many (if any) new T cells." To the right of the box is a graphic where the words "why am i always sick?" appear multiple times in different colours.

A screenshot of an article from the Tyee, titled "What If COVID Reinfections Wear Down Our Immunity?" by Andrew Nikiforuk, dating from 7 November 2022. What text is visible reads: "Dr. Anthony Leonardi is a lightning rod for debate. If he’s right, this pandemic poses a greater threat than widely assumed", followed by an image of cells. Under the image, text reads: "T cells are a body’s key line of defence against infection. COVID infections can cause them to prematurely age, harm organs and become exhausted, warns Dr. Anthony Leonardi. Image via Shutterstock."

A box labeled "Covid destroys T cells." Text reads: "Covid damages and destroys T-cells. This happens because Covid hyperstimulates T cells--it stimulates them too much. Why? Covid has the ability to linger in your body and challenge your immune system. When T cells stay activated continuously like this, they become exhausted and wear down. And the result is that your immune system gets badly damaged. Even so-called 'mild' Covid infections can really mess up your immune system. Even people without serious Covid symptoms showed T cell exhaustion in a recent study. 'Exhausted' T cells are those that lose their ability to fight off viruses (and their ability to fight off cancer.) Hyperactivated T cells can also lead to organ damage, leading to serious health issues. In short, Covid is damaging our immune systems."

/end ID]

To read more on this topic:

How the Coronavirus Short-Circuits the Immune System (26 Jun, 2020)

Dendritic cell deficiencies persist seven months after SARS-CoV-2 infection (21 Jul, 2021)

SARS-CoV-2 Actively Infects And Kills Lymphoid Cells (14 Apr, 2022)

In Cleveland and beyond researchers begin to unravel the mystery of long COVID-19 (22 Oct, 2022)

What if COVID Reinfections Wear Down Our Immunity? (7 Nov, 2022)

Single-cell multiomics revealed the dynamics of antigen presentation, immune response and T cell activation in the COVID-19 positive and recovered individuals (2 Dec, 2022)

SARS-CoV-2 infection weakens immune-cell response to vaccination: NIH-funded study suggests need to boost CD8+ T cell response after infection. (20 Mar, 2023)

Lymphocytopenia: Merck Manual (Revised Apr 2023)

Long COVID manifests with T cell dysregulation, inflammation and an uncoordinated adaptive immune response to SARS-CoV-2 (11 Jan, 2024)

[jacksprostate]

My boss invites me into his office, he's telling me, we've got a problem. It is always, "we." "We" are all in this together. "We" need to put a little more effort in, if "we" want our yearly bonuses. "We" have got to up profits by next quarter, or "we" are going to lose our jobs.

"We" don't all have half a million salaries and a three letter job title, but what can you do.

If you asked my boss, he'd tell you about his. The guy above him. Yeah, "we" are all beholden to him. My boss, he's just regional. Small fry, really.

I'm entering his corner office, big tall windows gaping, stretching the condo construction happening across the street for as far as the eye can see. He sees me looking.

"Perks of the job," he says. A little laugh in his voice. He's not funny.

"We need to talk about your performance last quarter," he says.

We, unto me.

I am Jack's rejuvenated individuality.

My boss had his secretary let me in, so really I've spent the past minute standing awkwardly, insomnia haze locking my gaze some place beyond our broken city horizon. My boss had his secretary let me in because that means he could sit at his desk and pretend to be doing something important. Wave me in, make me wait, give him the opportunity to boast about his jail cell amenities.

You'd think it makes him feel powerful, the way he's clinging to it all. I tongue at the hole in my cheek as I take a seat. Managerial threat displays have lost their effect on me, I think.

It makes him antsier. I can see it, taste it like the blood in my mouth. Oh, iron. Oh, fear.

If Tyler was here, he'd lean on those windows and get them splotched with dirt and worse. Those windows, they're spotless because my boss pays into the building fund with company money to get an old spanish speaking lady to wipe the glass clean before he arrives each morning. I saw her once, at a support group for some combination of cancer and impoverishment. She coughed, introducing herself. Said she couldn't speak well, but wanted company. She has to keep working, but it's making her sick.

The building doesn't pay her enough that she can buy PPE in between their scant offerings, so she's without a mask most of the times I've seen her.

Truthfully, there's been someone else under the building's thumb for a while now.

I found a different group for Thursday nights.

I still think I'll hear Rosa's wheezing when I see her cart by the restrooms.

My prolonged silence, it's unnerving him now, so he's puffing up like a bluffing frog.

I am still with my boss, and I've been staring at a damp spot of drywall behind his head as he yaps at me about how I need to follow dress code. Raise my numbers. Be more engaged.

I should be a precious bouquet of flowers, brightening up the office.

He just wants to help me out. Get me back on track. We used to have amazing figures coming out of Compliance and Liability, my one-man department.

If Tyler was here, he'd be filling the janitor's Windex bottles with 90 proof and blue dye instead, so when my boss comes in early for once in his life and spooks Rosa's replacement, the bottle gets spilled all over my boss and his carpet and his desk and then my workplace smoking habit really would be a fire hazard.

I tune back in, and my boss is informing me that it's with his sincerest regrets that he has to tell me that I won't be getting my bonus this year, oh, maybe something if I shape back up, yeah, he's sure he could fight upper management for me if I showed a good effort. He just wants to help, but I have to help him help me.

Whatever is going on in my life, it's got to be over.

I imagine going to Tyler. Going to fight club. Saying, let's pack it up boys. Fight club's over. I need to sit pretty for my boss so he can feed me a quarter of the salary he always conveniently has to withhold each year, due to all sorts of things impacting the car industry. A typhoon hit mainland China. The US dollar grew too fast with the collapse of the Soviet Union. A sparrow chirped in Belgrade on a Wednesday.

The usual.

Fight club's over. I've got to go be a recall campaign coordinator full time. Working hours, waking hours, what's the difference?

Tyler is always telling me, I could follow my boss home, and when he goes to work on his stupid meaningless hobby in the nice little air conditioned shed at the edge of his two acre two storey home, I could lock him in with nothing but millet. And when he runs out of millet, I could drag his body out and drown him in his pool, laced with armagnac, just like the French do it. And I could pluck and roast the corpse and eat it uncovered, hoping God has no choice but to see me now.

Or I could just give him a poisoned bottle of whiskey.

There's many options, according to Tyler.

The thing is. The truth is, I like my boss.

It's Tyler who wants to come in in the early morning and when my boss pushes open the door to his office, it's Tyler who wants to have a block of concrete in a bucket fall down and crack his skull like a rotten egg, looney tunes style.

It's not me. I gave my boss soap for the mandatory holiday office gift exchange.

I tell my boss, thank you for the concern.

Unfortunately, my grandmother's diagnosis seems dire, and it's unlikely I'll be able to switch gears before the year rolls over in March. Apologies.

He looks at me, and my battered face, at stitches painted across my temple. I can tell, he wants to shake me. Demand from me, why I can't I even pretend to give him a real excuse? Why do I have to make his life so very difficult? Why can't I just keep the broken toddlers from coming out of the woodwork with a smile on my face?

But he doesn't. He says, my condolences. It sounds a lot like get the hell out of my office.

With that in mind, I get up and take a nice, long moment to watch nothing through his huge, sparkling windows. Papers conspicuously rustle. There's the ambient noise of pointless keyboard clicking. I take a sip of my coffee. Behind me, my boss starts to pretend to get a call in hopes it gets me to move on, and I'm watching construction crews like ants. Perks of the job, indeed.

[searchingsomewhere]

All Too Well, Part 9

{"Mom, I'm tired. Can I sleep in your house tonight?"}

Part 1

It seemed like everything was falling to place for her. It was quite cool outside, but Miho didn't mind. Her hand was warm, interlaced with Suguru's. The six of them had taken a day trip to Shibuya. Her breath fogged in the air. Laughter rang out in the crisp fall air. Satoru was charging straight ahead, tossing his shopping bags to Kento, who threatened to drop them on the ground.

"I can't believe it's almost time to go home," Yu said, stretching his arms over his head, "Where are you guys going for the holiday?"

"We still have like three weeks," Miho said.

"I gotta go see my parents," Shoko sighed.

Yu and Kento both voiced similar plans. Satoru made a face. "I'll probably just go to Suguru's like last year."

"Don't you think you should ask first?" Kento asked.

"Why would I do that?"

"Because it's polite!"

The six teenagers stopped at the crosswalk. Suguru nearly stepped out, having been watching Miho the whole time. Satoru grabbed the back of his jacket just in time to keep him from walking out into traffic, snickering, "Eyes on the road, lover boy."

"What about you, Miho?" Yu asked.

Miho blinked at him, "Oh, I'll just be at the school."

"What about your parents?"

She shrugged, " Administration won't let me leave. I haven't seen them in almost two years."

Satoru pursed his lips, looking over at his friend. Suguru squeezed her hand. "We'll ask if they'll let you go this year. I'll go with you."

"What am I supposed to do?" Satoru whined.

Just as Suguru was opening his mouth to answer, a cell phone rang. Everyone checked their phones. It was Miho's.

"Speaking of my parents," she muttered, flipping the phone open, "Hey, mom."

The crosswalk light turned green. Her friends began walking forward. Suguru started, but stopped when she didn't follow. Miho was rooted to her spot. Her glassy eyes began to swell with tears. Suguru called out to their group before turning to her again. Her voice shook as she spoke.

"...Dad?"

---

Two hours later, she was sitting in a Nagano hospital waiting room. Miho stared forward, hands clasped tightly together. Her knee bounced rapidly. Suguru sat next to her, arms crossed. He reached over to grab her hand. She squeezed it tightly.

The hospital was full of lower grade curses. Nothing major, just the typical small fries often associated with the grief found there. She wasn't worried about them.

"Did they say how far the cancer progressed?" Suguru asked quietly.

"It's eaten up her insides," Miho said numbly.

He could only nod.

A man walked out, wearing a dress shirt and pants. He was a foreigner, most likely American if Suguru had to guess. A typical salary man, clean cut with short dark hair and green eyes. You could see the fatigue in his gaze from endless nights at the hospital, the deep wrinkles in his clothes from coming straight from the office.

Miho stood. Suguru followed.

"Dad," Miho barely managed.

Miho's Dad hugged her tightly. His face crumpled in grief, suddenly seeming much older than it really was. The man held his daughter as if the world were collapsing around them, as it surely was, as his only connection to his dying wife was suddenly tangible and in front of him. He kissed Miho on the top of her head.

Suguru kept his gaze down, silently standing so they could have a moment together. His phone buzzed quietly in his pocket. Suguru stepped to the side to answer. It was Yaga.

"Hello?" Suguru said in a low voice.

"Where the hell is Miho?"

"She's with me. In Nagano."

"She can't leave the school grounds without permission-"

Suguru lowered his voice, turning away. "Her mom is dying. We had to go."

Silence on the other end. Finally, Yaga said, "I'm sending Satoru. Just to keep the higher ups from pitching a fit. Do not allow her to use her technique-"

Suguru closed his phone and returned to the matter at hand.

"Dad, this my boyfriend," Miho said, gesturing to him.

Suguru smiled and bowed politely. "Suguru Geto. I'm sorry we're meeting under such circumstances."

Her dad returned the bow and reached to shake his hand. "Ray Tsukiyomi. I am too. Thank you for coming." He turned to Miho and sighed heavily. When he spoke again, it was in English. He asked Miho for help filing paperwork.

---

Her mother passed just hours later.

Suguru closed his phone, having just sent Satoru the address to the hospital. He stood outside of the hospital room, listening to Miho's quiet sobbing.

What a strange feeling it was. To hurt so much for someone, and yet be unable to do anything to help. Death was a natural phenomenon. They both faced it often in the field as Jujustu Sorcerers. But somehow it was entirely out his grasp how to make everything alright for her. They had only been dating a month. He wasn't close enough to be in there with her. But he was too close to simply stand in the hallway.

She stepped out while her dad went to tell the nurse. Suguru met her with open arms. He rested his chin on the top of her head as she sobbed into his chest. His arms enveloped her whole, like a life vest keeping her afloat. His heart ached with every sob that left her.

Satoru was rushing over to them as they exited the hospital, flowers in hand. He pulled Miho into his arms as soon as he was close enough.

"I'm sorry," he said into her hair, "I'm so sorry, Miho."

---

"Why didn't anyone tell me she had cancer?"

Trees whizzed by the train window. Miho stared at the passing scenery. She gritted her teeth, moving her hardening gaze to the empty plate in front of her as if she could shatter it with her mind.

Only a few hours until they were required to return to Tokyo.

"We told the school as soon as we found out. They said they would tell you." Her dad had said. "About six months ago."

Satoru was watching her from across the aisle. His glowing gaze flickered from her stony face to Suguru's. Thank goodness they had gotten a private booth seat. Miho was thankful for that. She didn't want to speak to anyone.

Her Cursed Energy was spiking. Suguru reached over to place his hand on her knee. It was both a warning, and a comforting gesture. Calm down. We're here for you.

At that very moment, she didn't want to be calm. She wanted to kick. And scream. And claw. She wanted to dig her fingernails into flesh and tear away at bone. As trees faded into buildings, Miho felt a deep anger simmering over her.

At that very moment, if given the chance, she would have killed every person in administration.

Part 10

[orochiposting]

Naomi Senju | In Boruto

amazing commission / settei by @ its.sunjyo on instagram <333 + shorter bio since this is specifically boruto and most of her info is on her part 1 & 2 settei / bio

Name: Naomi Senju 直美 千手 Age: 52 / 54 (Boruto) Date of Birth: July 13th | 07/13 Zodiac: Cancer Status: Alive Current Affiliation: Konohagakure Parents: Tsunade Senju and Jiraiya: The Toad Sage Height: 5’4 or 162.5 cm Weight: 120 lbs or 54 kg Rank: Jonin / Medical Nin MBTI: INTP Gender & Pronouns: Ciswoman & She/Her Sexuality: Bisexual Romantic Interest(s): Orochimaru(husband), Su (oc belonging to @ lemony_su on Instagram), Zanaku (oc belonging to @ cursedjinchuriki on Instagram)

Random Facts✶⋆.˚

She was a Child Prodigy 

Daughter of Lady Tsunade and Jiraiya 

Current Wife to Orochimaru

Referred to as the Mouse of the Leaf

Wood Style User

Her summoning animal(s) are rats, which come in both large sizes (like the toads of Mount Myoboku) and small. Her main summon is 'The Rat King, Tesso,' a large albino rat the size of a Hippopotamus.

Attained one of Orochimaru’s curse marks around the same time as her teammate Anko. (one of the early forms, before Jugo)

Capable of Water and Earth Release. Eventually learning how to perform Wood Style Release due to a mixture of reasons such as; Her Senju heritage, her natural chakra nature being water and her being capable of earth release, her chakra control and ability to mix the natures at will, and the Hashirama cells from Orochimaru’s initial curse mark form. 

Her Curse Mark form's design is inspired by a mouse.

Assigned to keep an eye on Orochimaru, alongside Yamato. 

In her free time whenever she isn't surveilling Orochimaru, Naomi works at and with children from the ninja academy as a tutor. 

While surveying Orochimaru, she began to see his growth - especially with Mitsuki.

She is Mitsuki's personal tutor when he goes to the academy and continues to help train him later on. She views him as a son.

She continues to use the sword of Kusanagi, which she attained in Shippuden. It once belonged to Orochimaru, but when he was killed by Itachi - it was dropped and later found by Pakkun when tracking Sasuke's scent. The ninja hound returned it to Kakashi, who gave it to Naomi.

Uses her Hundreds Healing Mark in the same way as her mother to keep her appearance youthful despite aging.

Does not forget what Orochimaru has done, to both her and the shinobi world, but she does forgive him - slowly.

Runs a free splinter clinic for Su in Konohagakure.

Stats★

Ninjutsu - 5 Taijutsu - 3 Genjutsu - 3.5 Intelligence - 5 Strength - 5 Speed - 4 Stamina - 3.5 Hand Seals - 5 Total - 34 

Personality Traits ♡⸝⸝

Positive – Persuasive, Analytical, Convincing, Intuitive, Efficient, Caring, Honest, Observational, Passionate, Intelligent, Ambitious, Tactical, Creative, Studious, Witty, Merciful, Understanding, Hardworking, Innovative, Resourceful, Resilient

Negative – Emotional, Bipolar, Stubborn, Obsessive, Indecisive, Somewhat Disorganized, Addictive, Temperamental, Snarky, Restless, Sarcastic, Perverted

Life Motto – “If you’re not obsessed with your life, change it.”

Clan Info⟡

Clan Name: Senju Specialty: The Senju clan is known as "the clan with a thousand skills" (千の手を持つ一族, "sen no te o motsu ichizoku") because they can master ninjutsu, taijutsu, genjutsu, and other techniques to give themselves a variety of skills for fighting. The Senju clan's name, "Senju" (千手), directly means "a thousand skills" or "a thousand hands." Kekkei Genkai: Wood Release + Hair Manipulation Ninja InformationHome Village: The Hidden Leaf / Konohagakure  Current Village: The Hidden Leaf / Konohagakure Academy Graduation Age / Genin Age: 6 Chūnin Promotion Age: 10 Rank: Jonin Previous Teammates: Anko Mitarashi & Tokuma Hyuga Previous Sensei(s): Orochimaru Nindo: “What is meant to be will always find a way.” referring to how she truly believes if something is meant to be, it’ll happen no matter what. Natural Chakra Nature: Water (although capable of Earth, Wind, and Wood.)

check out my instagram @ mousynaomi or @ ang3licsatin for more info on Naomi and access to the google drive with two bio docs for her !!

[chthontoya]

Cloud is a werewolf AU. Strifesodos week "Rot". @strifesodosweek

Warning, if you do the math, you'll notice there's an underage relationship, but that's not what story is about at all, thank you.

TW: cannibalism, death of secondary character, child neglect mentioned

Werewolfs are old almost extinct race with a curse on them left by Gaea for their traitorous nature. Strifes are the last family alive. To be precise, Cloud is the only one left. Cloudia died few years prior as a lone wolf without her mate. Even after she burnt her fur coat to stay with Cloud and grow him up, she couldn't live for too long. Cloud is traumatized by his mother's death and own wild nature, he is gloomy and sarcastic.

This has consequences for every SOLDIER with J-, S- or G-cells. All Genesis' clones die. Many of SOLDIER first and second class die too, most are in coma. The whole company is in chaos.

Date: early Autumn. Cloud as his initiation into adulthood kills Jenova completely (details later).

Genesis himself flew to help Jenova from the Eastern continent at her first call but was too late. He fell before an abnormally large black wolf and fainted from psychotic pain caused by Jenova dying.

Genesis condition was terrible. He wasn't tending his wounds properly after Angeal's death. Cure was barely working on him and most of his regenerative abilities depended purely on J-cells which all were mutated, similarly to cancer. With Jenova's death all Genesis unhealed or mutilated wounds opened anew.

Genesis wakes up in a cosy house in a small room with old but well kept wooden furniture. It's warm and smells with dry fur, which is a lot around him.

Through a headache, foggy feeling and hurting in the whole body, Genesis finally realises what have woken him up. The commotion outside, well heard even through a closed window. People fighting and screaming but two persons in the centre of attention: a blond man with a heavy looking black wolf fur on his back and much older one who looks like a victim and a villain in the same time.

The crowd is forced apart and people leave, what seems to be, the main square. The blond man with the coat comes closer to the house, accompanied by a beautiful woman of the same age.

Genesis finally meets Cloud properly. He's overwhelmed with how heavenly Cloud looks, and the man's aloof attitude doesn't worsen the situation but gives some exceptional charm. Genesis himself doesn't notice how he calls the man an angel. Cloud, though, looks like he's used to it - Genesis couldn't memorize his name during past weeks and was calling him this way.

The name "Cloud" is so unearthly that Genesis see it as a sign from Goddess.

Cloud tends Genesis' wounds and says the SOLDIER is lucky he wasn't killed by the black wolf. Or that Cloud found him earlier than any other predator.

Cloud have taken Genesis in and with help of local medics and nurses, he was able to heal the SOLDIER at least a bit. Cloud isn't going to release Genesis anywhere, until Genesis won't be able to leave the place through Cloud (physically fighting him).

Cloud explains the commotion that was outside: one of a local drunkheads, a widower, the last night almost lost a daughter to the local wildlife because he was too drunk to properly close his house. Cloud is full of killing intent talking.

Nibelheim is dangerous by itself with aggressive and powerful creatures roaming in mountains and in the mansion. O-whisps, hypnotic lights, make locking up in a house for a night a mandatory, especially for families with children.

The worst thing around Nibelheim however is the black wolf. The creatures have been seen only at night. There's always one in each generation. They are big, strong, drink mako like it's water, can use magic (presumably because of mako), and they eat people. There was no a generation in Nibelheim that not suffered from the bad wolf. At least, they rarely eat children for some reason.

Genesis has to stay for a few more days. Genesis learns more about Cloud, his family. Cloud is a hunter but he also watches the town's children in his free time which is a lot (the hunting isn't main priority for the town and Cloud earns enough money for a small/average family while living alone in his family property).

Both man find each other enchanting, but despite absolutely shameless flirting atmosphere between them, both proceed with care. Genesis doesn't stop calling Cloud an angel. The SOLDIER can't help but feel happy and needed when Cloud respond to his poetry reciting as if Genesis talked normally, even if there's so much salt and poison in the sarcastic responses that it makes Genesis wonder.

To the deep amusement of the Cloud's only friend, Genesis trains Cloud to use active-effect materia who is really bad at it. Cloud's problem, to Genesis' surprise, is that he tries to fully skip materia while drawing at the livestream. Cloud himself refused the training, knowing how bad he is. Genesis persuaded Cloud, though, promising to gift one of his summoning materia if he won't hate the time spent.

However Genesis wouldn't be himself if he would have not messed up here too, being a product of ShinRa, albeit not of the sorts they needed him to be.

The life with Cloud would be a good end for still gradually physically degrading Genesis. Cloud wouldn't hold him in the house or near, as soon as he is healed enough. They proved already that they are fine in mundane life together. And obviously for anyone staying around, Cloud and Genesis are romantically attracted to each other.

But it wasn't enough for Genesis. The SOLDIER, the Bloody General of Wutai craved revenge. And he hated himself for this.

With time Genesis was becoming more and more agitated, especially with rumours about few ShinRa SOLDIER first class sent to investigate the reactor.

So Genesis left. Slipped into the night during one of Cloud's hunting hours and decided to not to return until he'll make a hell for ShinRa.

Genesis is flying above Nibel mountains when he hears human screams and gun shuts. Genesis comes down. And he sees it.

The black wolf. A big, coal black creature, could easily bite off Genesis' head by the neck. Enraged. Blue mako eyes were glowing in the night. How much mockery of the "SOLDIER visit card".

The beast's nuzzle in blood and flesh. Seconds ago it had half of its head deep into some Nibelheimer's guts. Its paw, as soaked in blood, is on the place where the victim's hip bone should be. Judging by mess around the paw, the beast just squashed human there with its weight, maybe not even intentionally. The beast snarls.

The man's friend was now behind Genesis' back, and Genesis stops the other from firing again. The situation changed for the townfolk to act as mindless before. The morning is close and the beast might run away but to give the civilian a chance to escape, Genesis would have to engage it into the battle. Well, it's something Genesis is famous for.

The beast snarls warningly the moment Genesis gets out the rapier. The snarl intensifies when materia in the weapon start resonate. They launch into each other. Fire and blizzard power fill the air immediately.

In pure kill or die situation, Genesis would have died. Luckily for him, he just needs to hold off the beast long enough and this means he has enough power to spare on defence. They lock again and again. Air full of magic: smell of melt water, ozone and fresh dirt.

Finally Genesis sees an opening and slashes harshly at the beast's front. The creature howls agonizingly. It looks even more enraged now and somehow betrayed.

The beast runs away.

Genesis sinks down to the ground. The healed wounds hurt from the inside. The bitch on his shoulder burns especially viciously.

Genesis looks down. The beast's dead victim is the drunkhead from the scandal at the first coherent day in Nibelheim. Genesis wonders if Cloud will take his daughter in now, when both of her parents are dead.

Cloud. Should Genesis see him? Panting the SOLDIER gets up. He should've said his goodbyes properly, not fleeting like with Angeal.

The thought of Angeal makes Genesis get up, panting from the pain, and go back to the familiar house. The light from morning sun isn't warm but pleasant.

Genesis lands in the backyard. He opens the door and goes inside. There's so much blood. A lot of it. Too much. It was as if Cloud returned with a deep injury. Genesis doesn't like his conclusions.

A click of Cloud's gun. A grunt to get the fuck out and never return. A sound of a slight uncharacteristic for Cloud trembling in the hand, as if fighting with himself.

Genesis finally rises his eyes at Cloud. Yes. Deep shoulder-chest cut of his rapier is there and still bleeding even through rapid healing - Genesis isn't "Bloody" for his hair colour. Genesis laughs hystericaly and leaves. Of course, he fucking would. Injuring his dear people engraved into his soul like a rot that started from a seed.

Genesis gets on Cloud's roof to finally say his goodbyes. In autumn air of Nibelheim some red orb slips to the flue of Strife's house. Genesis sets off into the brightening sky.

P.S.: Okay, knowing it's a much shortened version of what I planned for a first of seven chapters, I really was too harsh on myself expecting me to write it all in a month, planning included.

P.p.s.: Yay! I'm finally not late for the event, even if it less than what I was hoping for

[larsnicklas]

hockey writing appreciation club part ii (part i here) hi team. let's support good sportswriting, whether with clicks or subscriptions! here are some more of my favorite articles i've read in the past little bit! i'll keep sharing articles every few weeks or so, and i always welcome recommendations if you have them as well!!

A mysterious illness halted his promising NHL career. Eight years later, hope and a comeback 🔒 Hodgson didn’t think about the mysterious illness that caused him to walk away from the game. Or the tests for lung cancer, brain cancer and liver cancer that he’d endured in a fruitless quest to figure out what was making him sick. He wasn’t thinking about the months of on-ice work and yoga and a grueling weight-loss regimen that led him to this point. He wasn’t even feeling the blunt soreness of the broken rib he had sustained in his first professional game after his long layoff. All he was thinking about was the gimme pass he’d just received. “If I hadn’t scored on that one,” Hodgson joked, “I might’ve had to shut it down.”

How the NHL rookie class has handled life on and off the ice Confidence becomes more than just a buzzword: It's a mantra. The rookies, after all, have to believe they belong -- even among the future Hall of Famers. "It's not like the guys you're playing against are not human, you know what I mean?" Carlsson said. "You realize you can be a good player here too, and you don't have to be worried that you're not going to make it. If you have confidence out there, you're going to be fine."

For players on the roster fringe, every day in the NHL is a treasure — and a challenge 🔒 Confidence is a funny thing. Even superstars routinely lose theirs during a stretch of what qualifies as mediocrity by their impossible standards. Hang around the game long enough and you’ll lose track of how many times you hear a player talk about just needing to “see the puck in the back of the net” to get himself going again. Never mind that he’s been the best player on the ice at every level. Never mind that he’s scored hundreds of goals in the NHL. Never mind that he’s been so good for so long that he’s paid massive sums of money and showered with love and affection every night. Even the toughest players can spiral mentally. Hockey’s hard, and the pressure’s high.

Nils Hoglander on growing up in a tiny village, why he stays on the ice after practice and his 'hidden talent' Is it harder to shoot a moose or stay in the NHL? A hint is a never-satisfied 5-foot-9, 185 pounds of bowling ball persistence and last player off the practice ice on Tuesday. “I guess I have to say hockey is the hardest,” said Hoglander. “But if you’ve never been out in the forest or anything, it’s kind of hard to know what to do. If you bring Petey (Elias Pettersson) he would have no idea what to do, he’s a city boy.”

'Open people's eyes': How the NHL's evolved in the decade of data The chemist's cell phone rings. He finds a quiet area of the lab to take the call. Hockey Hall of Fame forward Ron Francis is on the line. It's the 2014-15 season, Francis' first as general manager of the small-market Carolina Hurricanes. Francis asks the chemist - who's assumed a part-time consultant role with the NHL team - about a few players. How would you rank them? The call is short. The chemist slides his phone into his pocket, slips his gloves on, and walks to his work station. Back to the day job for Eric Tulsky.

After 1,400 games and counting, Alex Ovechkin still doesn’t break 🔒 When Alex Ovechkin was a rookie, his teammates were concerned he might have a heart attack. The Washington Capitals forward, who was 20 when he played his first NHL game in 2005, has always done things his own way. Back then, that meant a pregame routine of three Red Bulls. When the rest of his teammates were drinking Gatorade or water between periods, Ovechkin was downing soda.

Why a first-round pick walked away from the NHL — and found peace doing odd jobs 🔒 Over the course of his 10-year career, Koekkoek admits he paid far too much attention to external noise. He read negative articles about his play. He paid attention to critics on social media. And he put too much stock into various coaches who didn’t believe in him. “I lost that self-value that someone believed in me to take me in the first round,” he said. “I wish I could have kept my swagger.”

[i-am-xp-64]

A big mission.

The Goal: rescue lim and blow up the inder mental hospital

The mission guys: jett and monster

The enemy: -unknown hospital owner-

Part 2

The time pass and the perfect one came, the guards standing on the door and the hallways at the hospital looks calm

Guards just trying their best to stay awake yet they didn't hear a whoosh behind them, guess who~

*BANG*

Not even in a second, one hard hit let the guards with broken necks and then death.

Too easy.

Monster go before entering the hospital

No one really around just some doctors finishing their jobs, yet they have no idea the fire is among to get them

Coast is clear enough, I'm going in the vent

Monster look at the vent entry, it was a bit small but at least a human can fit in

Not even waiting a moment monster in mind.

1..2..3!-

And..

WHOOSH~

nothing else to say

The vent entry didn't make much noise but no one really mind it, yet later monster began to counting on the plan and take out a bottle with gasoline in it

The plan is pouring the gasoline through the vents and then the lighting time starts, the gasoline on the vents will lead the fire to the place were jett left the full gasoline and bombs

With the explosion the other bombs will active eventually

Meanwhile jett sneeked in the hospital's old office so he can search for the owner and no one will find him, but something is off..

The things about the hospital is doesn't show anything much about the owner just r.i.p logos, then jett finds a last name and search it and omg..it complicated, jett opens the radio-phone and speaks to monster

Monster! I found something oddly..weird

What is it jett?

Monster replied

It says here the owner were died thru lung cancer and left the hospital to a close friend she knows

Jett search down for more info.

It says that the new owner is owning another mental hospital that he uses like a labletory and even ones got burned down but..rebuild again

Huh that do odd..any clue about THAT place?

I'm looking for it.

Some moments later Jett let's out a huge gasp and start sweating of what he sees, monster who heard the gasp got worried

Jett! What's the matter? You got caught??

No no..im fine but...no..it can't be..

It says here that due to the second hospital's asks..lim will getting on a death test and if he survives...he'll be sent to that hospital as an experiment!

What?!..who's the asker??

I..

Jett in full fear, hands are shaking but still searching

I didn't found who yet..I'll update you when I did

Alright Jett..im closing the phone, I think I'm near the cell that lim is locked in at

Alright..be careful

Jett's last words before closing the call

Monster is not above the cell but wait..

Wheres the guards at the door and..

is that blood?!

To be continued

(Jett belongs to @weirdsillycreature and monster belongs to me)

[alienarthouse]

About resonants: the sex types are SUPER cool, but your description of them as 7 chromosome variants that typically appear only in adjacent pairs + where the males are located causes a problem: for example, Matriarchs produce only invalid combos, except for pairing with an FG, which CAN output an AG offspring! So the genetic basis has GOTTA be something else, probably on 2+ chromosomes. (I'd suggest a 'silent' 8th sex that's either prenatally lethal OR has a phenotype range confined to existing male sexes)

Thank you for pointing this out, actually! I thought about talking about the explanation for this in the original guide, but it seemed a bit complicated for that guide. The concepts there are meant to be more high school level, while I’d consider this like college level Resonant genetics.

As it turns out, from a genetic standpoint, there are 49 Resonant sexes. While there are only 7 apparent phenotypes, these hidden chromosomes greatly affect reproduction.

So here’s how sex inheritance works for them:

Resonant sex chromosomes of what are called “presenting” and “cryptic” chromosomes.

As you’d expect, “presenting” chromosomes determine the anatomical class and secondary sex characteristics, while “cryptic” chromosomes do not. Cryptic chromosomes aren’t useless, though; they allow for wider compatibility for reproduction and allow for a reduced chance of developing cancer and other conditions caused by damage to the DNA. Almost all chromosomes in Resonants have what are essentially back-up DNA, part of an adaptation to defend against the higher levels of radiation on their home planet.

For reproduction, gametes pull from one of the presenting chromosomes, and one of the cryptic chromosomes.

Unlike in humans, where fertilization is a matter of speed, in Resonants, it is a matter of compatibility. Fusals (G-type gametes) develop ligands related to the chromosomes they carry, and if they successfully bind to the cell surface receptors on the egg (R-type gamete), fertilization can successfully occur.

This system can lead to some curious results. Some couples are only capable of producing offspring of one sex, some produce multiple, and some couplings results only in children of different sexes than the parents.

Example: An Atlas and a Mask pairing are capable of producing Diver, Mask, and Oracle offspring.

The most frustrating thing can come when a couple cannot produce anything at all. One Matriarch and Crimsonite coupling may produce many children, but another may be unable to conceive. Cryptic chromosomes can be the determiner of compatibility, but without genetic testing, cannot be known. But Resonants are clever, and quickly found a workaround.

See, a number of genes regulation the immune system are found on the sex chromosomes in Resonants—hence why intersex individuals commonly develop disorders of the immune system. Blood types are determined by both the presenting and cryptic sex chromosomes, and so can be used as a rough approximation for compatibility. The pair will both have a small sample of blood taken and mixed together. Higher levels of agglutination (signaling a smaller chromosomal overlap) are believed to have greater fertility.

Another technique is a bit more trial-and-error, and involves strategically pairing up individuals and observing how many and of what sex offspring they produce to deduce their chromosomal typings. This is a highly prized art in Matriarchal cultures, where it is common practice for Matriarchs to arrange who reproduces with who. This job may be given to young Matriarchs trying to prove themselves as a good heir to the reigning Matriarch, or to Oracles. In many cultures, the presenting chromosomes are thought to represent a physical aspect of compatibility, while the cryptic chromosomes represent a more spiritual aspect, hence why it is sometimes the provenance of the more mystical sex.

I will admit that the chart is wrong, though. I was thinking of both the simple and the more complex system when I made it, so it doesn’t make much sense under further scrutiny. The real chart looks something more like this:

But this one’s a bit harder to read.