#Device used in the procedure are:

[reds-skull]

Thank you so much to everyone that donated to Omar, I am honestly so grateful for all of you. I managed to get in contact with Omar again, he has also thanked you all, and informed me he needs $950 more to get the medical device.

This is only optional, because I understand paypal is less reliable, but as some of you might know gfm does take a cut of the money donated, so Omar has a friend you can donate to. Again, if you want to donate to gfm because you feel more secure, that's completely fine. We're grateful for anything, no matter how small.

If you want an incentive, this post details what you can commission from me for each amount.

Here is the paypal: paypal.me/xanadoodle

And here's the gfm:

[mercuryhc2024]

Why Temperature Control is Crucial in Patient Care: A Look at the Mercury Mini Heater Unit 

Temperature control is a critical aspect of patient care, particularly in clinical settings where maintaining a stable environment is essential for recovery and overall well-being. Whether it's during surgical procedures, post-operative care, or general patient comfort, the ability to precisely manage temperature can significantly impact outcomes. The Mercury Mini Portable Heater Unit stands out as a vital tool in this regard, offering a range of features designed to meet the demanding needs of healthcare providers. 

The Importance of Temperature Control in Healthcare 

Maintaining an optimal temperature is not just about comfort; it’s about patient safety and effective treatment. Hypothermia, for instance, is a common concern during surgeries, where patients’ body temperatures can drop due to anesthesia and the surrounding environment. This drop can lead to complications such as increased blood loss, a higher risk of infection, and longer recovery times. Conversely, in other scenarios, overheating can pose risks, particularly in vulnerable populations such as the elderly or those with certain medical conditions. 

In neonatal care, for example, premature infants require a carefully regulated thermal environment to ensure proper growth and development. Similarly, in post-operative recovery, maintaining a stable temperature helps to reduce metabolic stress and promotes healing. These examples underscore the necessity of reliable temperature control equipment in healthcare settings. 

Introducing the Mercury Mini Heater Unit 

The Mercury Mini Portable Heater Unit is specifically designed to address the challenges of temperature control in medical environments. Its compact and portable design makes it easy to use in various settings, from operating rooms to patient bedsides, without taking up excessive space or requiring complex installation. 

Key Features of the Mercury Mini 

One of the standout features of the Mercury Mini is its touch screen control, which allows healthcare professionals to easily set and monitor the temperature. The user-friendly interface is crucial in fast-paced medical environments where time is of the essence. The unit offers a temperature range of 35°C to 42°C, providing the flexibility needed to cater to different patient care requirements. 

Another significant feature is the PLC-based electronics, which ensure precise temperature regulation and reliable performance. This advanced technology minimizes the risk of temperature fluctuations that could compromise patient safety. 

The Mercury Mini also boasts a flow rate of 5 to 6 liters per minute, ensuring efficient and consistent heating. Its 5-liter water capacity is sufficient for extended use without frequent refilling, reducing interruptions in patient care. Additionally, the unit includes two output circuits, allowing it to serve multiple patients or be used for different applications simultaneously, enhancing its versatility. 

The Role of the Mercury Mini in Enhancing Patient Care 

By integrating these features, the Mercury Mini Heater Unit plays a vital role in enhancing patient care. Its portability means it can be easily moved to where it is needed most, whether in a busy hospital ward or a specialized clinic. The ability to maintain precise temperature control helps healthcare providers to prevent complications related to hypothermia or overheating, ultimately improving patient outcomes. 

Moreover, the open tank design and straightforward controls mean that the Mercury Mini is easy to maintain and operate, ensuring that healthcare professionals can focus on patient care rather than equipment management. 

Conclusion 

In conclusion, temperature control is a crucial element in patient care that can significantly influence recovery and overall health outcomes. The Mercury Mini Portable Heater Unit offers an effective solution for healthcare providers, combining advanced technology with ease of use to ensure that patients receive the best possible care. With its reliable performance and user-friendly design, the Mercury Mini stands out as an essential tool for maintaining optimal temperature conditions in various medical settings. 

[nasa]

Hubble Space Telescope: Exploring the Cosmos and Making Life Better on Earth

In the 35 years since its launch aboard space shuttle Discovery, the Hubble Space Telescope has provided stunning views of galaxies millions of light years away. But the leaps in technology needed for its look into space has also provided benefits on the ground. Here are some of the technologies developed for Hubble that have improved life on Earth.

Image Sensors Find Cancer

Charge-coupled device (CCD) sensors have been used in digital photography for decades, but Hubble’s Space Telescope Imaging Spectrograph required a far more sensitive CCD. This development resulted in improved image sensors for mammogram machines, helping doctors find and treat breast cancer.

Laser Vision Gives Insights

In preparation for a repair mission to fix Hubble’s misshapen mirror, Goddard Space Flight Center required a way to accurately measure replacement parts. This resulted in a tool to detect mirror defects, which has since been used to develop a commercial 3D imaging system and a package detection device now used by all major shipping companies.

Optimized Hospital Scheduling

A computer scientist who helped design software for scheduling Hubble’s observations adapted it to assist with scheduling medical procedures. This software helps hospitals optimize constantly changing schedules for medical imaging and keep the high pace of emergency rooms going.

Optical Filters Match Wavelengths and Paint Swatches

For Hubble’s main cameras to capture high-quality images of stars and galaxies, each of its filters had to block all but a specific range of wavelengths of light. The filters needed to capture the best data possible but also fit on one optical element. A company contracted to construct these filters used its experience on this project to create filters used in paint-matching devices for hardware stores, with multiple wavelengths evaluated by a single lens.

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space!

[reasonsforhope]

"The Food and Drug administration has approved the U.S.'s first at-home alternative to the Pap smear, a procedure generations of women [and nonbinary and trans people with uteruses] have dreaded and often found painful.

The new device by Teal Health will offer a "much preferred experience," the company said in its announcement, and also aims to increase screening rates by making the procedure more convenient.

Traditionally, gynecologists have inserted a cold metal speculum deep into a woman's vagina to scrape cells from the cervix.

The Teal Wand — "built with empathy," the company said — uses a swab to collect a vaginal sample. Women will then mail the sample to a lab that will screen for HPV (human papillomavirus), the virus that causes nearly all cervical cancers. A growing body of research has found HPV testing to be highly accurate.

The FDA approval Friday [May 9, 2025] follows a U.S.-based study that found at-home screening was just as effective as that done in a doctor's office. The study also found women overwhelmingly preferred self–screening at home, and said they'd be more likely to stay up to date with cervical cancer screenings that way.

Every year, about 13,000 cases of cervical cancer are diagnosed, and more than 4,000 women die from the disease. Rates are down dramatically since Dr. Georgios Papanicolaou published a 1943 paper on how to use the Pap smear for screening, and it then became common.

But about a quarter of women in the U.S. are behind on such screenings, and medical experts say reducing that is key to the ultimate goal of eliminating cervical cancer. There's also a racial gap, with Black and Native American women far more likely to die from cervical cancer than white women. The HPV vaccine for teen and preteen girls, introduced in 2007, has also led to a global push to tackle the disease that way.

At-home cervical cancer screenings are already available in several other countries, including Australia and Sweden.

Teal Health says its self-testing device will be available starting next month [June 2025], in California first and then expanding. It will be by prescription, through a telehealth service, for women 25-65 years old who are "at average risk." The company says it's working with insurance companies to provide coverage."

-via NPR, May 10, 2025

[starsandsuch]

Libra Through The Houses: Where Do You Appreciate ✨Aesthetics✨ The Most 🍒

🎀 To put it bluntly: where are you superficial af? 😌💅😂

🎀 Libra represents the beautification of something. So where in your life do you prefer things to be beautiful?

🎀 Check the house you have Libra. Can work for sidereal or tropical.

Libra 1H: you want your physical appearance to look good. Always sporting your ideal hair, makeup, clothes, nails etc. You feel most authentic when you look physically beautiful. Since your physical appearance matters a lot to you, you spend a lot of money on ✨beautification✨. No matter what you strive to achieve your “desired appearance”.

Libra 2H: food has to look good for you to eat it. If the food don’t look good you ain’t eating it. This placement reminds me of someone who loves those little perfect looking pastries, cakes, deserts. You like foods that have an aesthetically pleasing look to it like sushi for example 🍣. You like to have a pretty wallet/purse. You may have custom design credit cards that are pink/sparkly/hello kitty. You guys have thee prettiest ID pictures! Your passport picture eats too. You are the person to be full glam and bring a ring light to the DMV to take your ID pic😂. Ok diva📸.

Libra 3H: oop I’m bouta spill your tea rn. You are the person in school with thee most aesthetic pencils, pens, backpacks. Your school supplies had to eat okur💅📚. Lisa Frank notebook girly. Rae Dunn stationary. Gel pens. You also love having pretty friends, in HS you could’ve been part of a clique of pretty girls. In present day you like your tech devices to have aesthetically pleasing phone cases, matching colors of airpod case, MacBook etc. You love cute stationary! You have to have aesthetically appealing social media presence! Even if you have socials where you don’t show ur face directly, whatever you are doing it HAS to look good. Masters of the ✨curated✨ IG feed. Hello Leo risings yes you take the prettiest pictures and have the cutest Instagram feed 🙄😘😂.

Libra 4H: your home has to be aesthetically pleasing. You don’t play about your decor. Even if you don’t have a huge budget, you like to make your space look ✨pretty✨. My libra 4H friends (cancer risings) in college, used to have the cutest dorm rooms. Which a lot of the time it’s hard to make a dorm room look cute LOL. You all have peaceful, clean homes with tasteful aesthetic touches💅. You like having a pretty car too. If your car doesn’t look good you don’t wanna drive it😭.

Libra 5H: you date the most attractive people. Your romantic interests have to be your “type”. What is your type ? PRETTY. They have to look good. You love bad b!tches that’s your f*ckn problem! 😂 . You also have to have your creative projects look aesthetically pleasing as well. You may make beautiful art. Clothes. You have to look pretty during performances etc. It’s likely that your future kids are beautiful.

Libra 6H: first of all I love you guys. Why ? Bc you all do thee BEST beauty services ✨. Alot of y’all are Taurus risings (applies to Taurus sun + moons too!) and every beauty service I’ve gotten from people with this placement have been on point. Facials, lash extensions, waxing, eyebrow micro-blading. You guys OWN the beauty service/procedure industry. You also HAVE to work in an environment that is aesthetically pleasing. A nice salon, wax studio, office etc. Also a lot of you guys have beautiful pets. Your dog, cat, etc are so adorable! You choose your pet based on how cute it is.

Libra 7H: of course your romantic partner has to be good looking. That’s high on your standards list be honest. People will say: “idc about physical appearance only the inside matters😇” and you’re like: “not to ME, y’all be easy though”😂😭. You will likely have a good looking spouse. It also matters that you and your spouse look good TOGETHER. You guys like being the “swaggy” couple. “Fashion Killas”. “Couple goals”etc. First impressions matter to you a lot, you like to look pretty when you first meet people. You also in general love mingling and socializing with beautiful people.

Libra 8H: you all like having a pretty kitty 🐱. It’s possible you do upkeep on it, waxing, bleaching, laser etc. People with this placement are so proud of it too they will brag on it. Ok diva 😂👑 💅. You look pretty even after undergoing challenging or traumatic situations. This is the placement of someone who has the biggest glow up after a breakup! “Post f*ckboy glow” ✨😌. Also how do you look so expensive on a budget?! People assume you wear designer even if it is from fashionnova ?

Libra 9H: the places you travel have to be aesthetically pleasing. You aren’t the type to go on vacay and do it the gritty way, nope. You need pretty accommodations, beautiful views, bringing your good camera to capture everything in an aesthetic way. People with this placement have the best travel photo dumps. You guys make people wanna visit places after you been there! Ok travel influencer.✈️ Also whatever university you attend has to have pleasing campus aesthetics. USC comes to mind✨ they film so many movies there.

Libra 10H: the public thinks you’re so beautiful! I’ll just say it first since we’re all thinking it. You are thee pretty girl, baddie, dollface, all of the above🎀💅. The place that you work has to be aesthetically pleasing. You work somewhere with pretty architecture, near a nice garden, in a pretty part of the city. Your reputation is one where you are perceived as a well put together, well dressed, good looking person.

Libra 11H: oop this one is pretty obvious. You love having pretty friends 🤩. You like being surrounded by baddies. “I love bad b!tches that’s my f*ckn problem!” 😂 . Your life goals and aspirations involve making a beautiful life for yourself, literally. Pretty face, pretty body, pretty home, pretty bank account. Your social media presence has to be aesthetically pleasing. You take the prettiest IG pics probably 😏.

Libra 12H: you are the person to keep all your pretty, valuable items hidden. Collecting pretty clothes, makeup, accessories, jewelry. Do you need it, no?? But it HAS to be in your archive. You have to hoard ✨pretty trickets✨. You also have aesthetically pleasing spiritual tools, the cutest tarot deck, pretty incense holder, gorgeous crystals. When you are participating in spiritual practices you prefer the surroundings to be aesthetically appealing. No you are not meditating on the dirty ground, doing spells in a cave, you’re doing it on the cutest yoga mat money can buy 😌🧘‍♀️. Your altar is aesthetically pleasing. You have to have a pretty bed with pretty bedding 🛏😍.

starsandsuch all rights reserved ®

[mikhardwheat]

People really like to talk about how Luka is one of the most docile competitors when it comes to obliging the aliens: he is the fan favorite, behaves well during interviews, and diligently fulfills his role of an entertainer. However, during the rounds we barely see his childhood/past.

In Wiege, we finally get some answers regarding how he was born and raised. This scene, in particular:

It's obvious that Luka broke into this place without permission, given that he's holding something that he's likely used to rip the capsules with naked bodies inside. His left hand is on the switch, and the scene ends with aliens reaching out to him.

This is the first instance of Luka's rebellion that we get to witness.

His body is frail, there are many frames of him being connected to the monitoring devices. It paints a picture of him being highly dependent on the support that his owner provides. One might think this is why he wouldn't dare to against the rules.

Which is why I find the second frame so interesting.

His room is covered in posters of a known "human terrorist", and he kisses Hyuna's image in front of the cameras. He isn't afraid of getting punished for it, and that makes me wonder if the owner knowingly indulged him in this one obsession, under assumption that it'll keep Luka compliant.

This scene takes place later, and he's visibly less shaken up by what's in front of him. People in the first one didn't have the incisions, so it's likely that they were tossed away before the aliens could start the surgical procedures. We later see similar scars on Luka's body.

[electricgg]

Ancient Dreams In A Modern Land

Chapter 2: I Am Not My Body, Not My Mind Or My Brain

Masterlist Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 (Here!) / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 / Chapter 8 / Chapter 9 / Chapter 10 / Chapter 11 / Chapter 12 /

Trigger Warnings: Body Dysphoria, Medical Procedures

Heating food is a simple task. Humans have evolved enough through the decades to have invented this precious device called a microwave so that food could heat up faster for consumption. Sure, various studies confirmed that too much radiation on food is not suitable for your health, but people still smoked car batteries while claiming it was good for their anxiety.

Still, Timothy Drake managed to burn his dinner even if Alfred left instructions to leave it for one minute and twenty seconds. 

He could feel the smugness coming from Damian’s spot at the kitchen island, chomping on his food with the refinement of a prince while staring at how Tim scraped his burnt food from the plate into the trash can.

Coffee will do for now. He will not have a meltdown over that diabolical microwave that seems only to burn his food without fail.

“Losing against a machine is beneath you, Drake,” the boy said while glaring at the coffee machine with disgust.

“I'll take it as a divine sign to wait until Alfred comes home. Or I will throw the damn thing out the window.”

Damian scowled. 

‘Leave it to Drake to embarrass the family.’

‘At least it’s on the privacy of the manor. Not like the real embarrassment of the family.’ A cold voice whispered in the back of his mind, making the food in his mouth taste bitter.

It wouldn’t be the first time that she pulled a stunt like that to gather some attention from their father. Damian always kept track of her embarrassing actions (it satisfied him to know that no one could sink lower than the person he supposedly shares blood with), but it would be the first time the police had to be involved. Not even Todd had managed to do that, if we are talking about civilian aspects. 

In his opinion, she needed to stop trying so hard and learn that she would never be on the same level as the rest of them. Too soft. Too weak. Too much of everything and too little of anything. 

There was no way they could be related. Damian refused to be associated with someone who was beneath his intellect, and much less call them his sister. He demanded his father for a blood test after he had lived in the manor for about six months. His father only sighed deeply and denied his request. 

Tt, curse his father’s sensible need to help charity cases.

The chattering from the television transmitted from the room next to the kitchen interrupted his train of thought, chair scraping as he stood up and began washing his dishes.

The main living room of the manor was spacious, a tall ceiling complementing the old-fashioned structure of the dark wallpapered walls and big door windows leading to the backyard field. An L-form black leather couch with a couple of decorative pillows and fluffy blankets folded in the corner was occupied by none other than Cass, who was very focused on the bright screen.

It didn’t take long for Tim to stagger towards the love seat with his cup of steaming black coffee, very proudly showing the ‘#1 Coffee Addict’ engraving on the porcelain. It was a gag gift from Bart, but it was the biggest one he had, so he used it religiously.

Damian stood behind the couch, arms crossed, as the news went on about the recent controversial theme that has been invading every type of communication media. Under any other circumstances, he would have gone down the cave for his late-night training due to not being on patrol. 

But when the item that’s being talked about has been putting even the Justice League on tense negotiations, he’s a bit more inclined to put up with the fake neutral accent from the news reporter just to be more informed.

Mutants.

A bomb that the world is waiting for to blow up.

They’re not old news, but they have been gathering attention in the last few years. Especially in the past three years. 

Mutants have always been a touchy subject. Most of the public confuses them with metahumans due to their similarities, but they couldn’t be any more different. Metas are a recent development compared to mutants. Mutants were born with their ‘gifts’, from physical to mental, while Metas are a result of experimentation or a freak accident that triggered their meta gene. While they share the fact that their powers/mutations manifest under stressful or traumatic situations, mutants have a broad spectrum of possibilities on how their mutation shows up.

Multiple studies have come up with the theory that puberty might be the trigger due to the imbalance of hormones and the unstable emotions that teenagers go through at that age, but it hasn’t been fully backed up because of the high rate of cases of mutations showing up at birth. Too many factors and possibilities exist on how to identify mutants to settle on just one theory.

Which brings the public’s opinion on mutants. 

…People fear. A lot. It’s the basis of survival, the main reason why humans have lived and evolved for centuries. When facing something that qualifies as a threat to themselves, they will respond between their fight or flight instincts. As an evolving species, this has gone from physical needs to a more intellectual field.

Which leads to the public having very violent and strong opinions when it comes to mutants.

So, yeah. A very touchy subject.

“-that brings us to the big question: are mutants able to be controlled, or are we at the mercy of them?” a reporter with way too much blush even for the camera questioned, making Tim snort quietly behind his cup of coffee.

“That’s stupid.”

Damian couldn’t help but agree. And if Cass’s little shuffle was any sign, so did she. It was a very stupid statement.

Can a child with a gun be controlled, or are we at the mercy of them? The news was truly desperate for some pretty faces to get views on their programming.

“With that question in mind, let’s welcome our visitor of the night!” Interrupted a cheery male voice as the screen switched to the other side of the news set. It showed the interview chairs, soft blue chairs occupied by the interviewing reporters on the right side of the screen. On the left side sat the news’ visitor.

He was in a wheelchair, seemingly made of a sturdy material with a thick X formed on the wheels. Blad, thin eyebrows, and a gentle, pleasant expression. Dressed in a brown suit with a dark blue tie. It gave him a very open air, but with a touch of professionalism. He gave a very teacher-like aura. Trustworthy, intelligent, and secure. 

“It is our greatest pleasure to present such an important figure to our interview. We present to you Prof. Charles Francis Xavier. An expert and leading figure in the genetics field, as well as many other scientific fields. It is a great honor to have you here!”

The man chuckled gently at the introduction, dismissively waving his hand over the very flaunting words of the reporter.

“Please, Professor Xavier will suffice. No need for full names here.” His tone was polite and kind, making the atmosphere more soothing after a very bootlicking introduction.

At this point, Damian’s interest was lost. He didn’t need to hear about stuff he already knew about due to all the data and information Drake had engraved into the family’s brain, thanks to Prof. Xavier’s papers on genetics. He could feel Drake’s upcoming debrief on the whole interview during the next meeting, taking notice of how he straightened his back and laser-focused on the TV screen.

As Damian walked away from the living room, the professor’s voice echoed down the halls.

“I’m sure that most people sitting at home are concerned about mutants, but I am here to reassure you that there’s no reason to be so. First, let me explain what the X-Gene is and clarify some assumptions. Shall we?

➳➳➳➳➳┄┄※┄┄➳➳➳➳➳

“It worries me, Alfred,” grunted Gordon as he sat down behind his desk. The butler followed the action, sitting on the opposite side with a worried frown on his face.

Gordon was waiting for him at the very entrance of the station, not even letting him go through the ridiculous registration process at the front desk where a very tired secretary sat surrounded by messy papers and four empty cups of coffee at her desk. He didn’t utter a word until they went up the stairs towards his office, dodging sleep-deprived detectives and running cops to do their duties.

“She didn’t seem to even recognize where she was walking or who I was.” Gordon began typing into his computer, sighing once he found the file.

“You mentioned Lady (Y/N) had a head injury,” the butler commented. “How grave is it? Is your doctor competent enough to treat her here?”

The underhanded comment was not missed, but he knew better than to take it personally. Gordon has seen at first hand how Alfred could be a deadly force when it came to the members of the Wayne family. Especially when he prided himself on his medical knowledge.

Even more so when it came to Bruce’s youngest daughter. He remembers very well the day the poor girl’s case came to his desk all those years back.

“Dr. Vidal hasn’t given her report yet, she is still waiting for some blood test results.”

That made Alfred switch his attention.

“I believe I am not familiar with her. What happened to Dr. Ramirez?”

“Old man finally retired two months ago and recommended Vidal for his position.” Gordon snorted.

“She has been here for about two weeks. I was expecting her to quit two days in, but she is quite stubborn. Took hold of the morgue and now only leaves to turn in reports or treat suspects and victims.”

“So nursing background? Perhaps Paramedic training?”

“Worse. Emergency Room back at Gotham General.”

That made Alfred grimace internally. He has way too many horror stories dating back to when Thomas Wayne worked at Gotham’s General Hospital. And ER was hell on Earth, as he recalled the multiple visits due to the young masters’ accidents when they were younger, and he didn’t have the proper resources.

“Try the night shifts. Those were adrenaline-inducing.” A womanly voice caught the older men's attention, making them look back at the office door.

Brown, long hair in a ponytail, and soft brown eyes with a strange glint. Tall and long limbs, her black heels clicking as she walked towards the desk. She wore a white coat, black loose pants, combined with a classy deep emerald green shirt.

But what took Alfred’s attention was her expression as she stared at him directly, even while handing Gordon a cream file with documents.

Her lip’s corner was curled in what could be interpreted as smug. But it didn’t feel like it when her gaze assessed him sharply. When they made eye contact, Alfred felt a freezing sensation at the back of his head and ran all over him.

Like cold nails scraping at his skull, gone the moment she took her eyes off of him.

What an unnerving woman. She fit right in this city without a doubt.

“Test results came back negative, but I wouldn’t discard a bacteria or infection in the following days. Aside from the scraped knees and the head wound, no need for stitches. There were signs of a swollen throat and vocal cords, all from vomiting and choking in the water, but at least the risk of water in her lungs is out of the equation.”  

Gordon nodded, typing the report into his computer. He switched the documents around until he found the one he was looking for.

“And how is she responding? Does she know what happened?”

Dr. Vidal exhaled through her nose, a closed smile indicating there was a lot to unpack there.

“She has motor skills and reacts to questions and answers… but she doesn’t know anything beyond her name and someone named Billy. Claims she has to find him.”

That made Alfred’s stomach twist in a knot. This information wasn’t good at all.

“What exactly ‘she doesn’t know anything’ do you mean by?” the butler snapped in, making Gordon look at him and the doctor pick up the file to hand over to him personally.

“She has basic knowledge and quite a personality. But her mind becomes blank when asked about what her last name is, where she goes to school, what happened before the situation, or where her own house is.”

Gordon hesitates for a few moments, giving Alfred some space before asking in a very slow and careful manner. “Are you implying she has amnesia?”

The Doctor sighed, crossing her arms while sitting on the corner of the cabinet attached to the wall behind the desk and looking between the two men. 

“I believe it’s a bit more than that,” she said in a mindful tone. Alfred felt his heart pounding at his chest, but he didn’t interrupt the woman.

Gordon nodded at her to continue, leaning over to listen to her theory.

“Whatever she hit her head with was with malicious intent. I found a couple of cement residues on her wound, and by the form of the injury, it was thrown at her, or someone took hold of her head and hit her with what I believe could be a brick. Did she fall into the water by accident, or was she pushed in? I don’t know. But I think that someone is out for her, and her mind is blocking it as a trauma response.”

The silence in the office went on for long minutes.

Alfred’s mind ran down with the possibilities. Master Bruce had plenty of enemies, both inside and outside the mask. And it wouldn’t be the first time someone tried to go for one of the children. He even remembered trying to talk his master out of microchipping each one of them while they slept, blaming it on his paranoia taking hold of his common sense.

But what puzzled him was that this was (Y/N). The ‘Embarrassment of The Wayne’.

He hated that title. Loathed it to hell and back.

A girl accidentally falls into a fountain on her very first gala, and the media goes nuts and creates a cruel moniker for a seven-year-old. He curls his fingers tightly around the document file in his hand.

The sobs and calls for her mother still make his nerves boil.

Which leads to why she would be a target.

While it made her feel insecure and the object of many cruel jokes and curious looks, it kept her safe and away from any dirty actions to harm her and Master Bruce.

A cruel price to pay for her safety.

“You mentioned another name.” Gordon’s voice took Alfred’s attention out of his head.

“Billy, wasn’t it?” He repeated the name with a frown. He couldn’t recall anyone with that name.

It took both men off guard at the dark look that came over the doctor, the air turning cold in just a few seconds. But it was gone in the blink of an eye. She cleared her throat and straightened her spine.

“Yeah. It could be someone close to her, maybe even the last person she saw before this happened. There are a lot of possibilities, but her mind latched onto the name like a dog with a bone.” 

He tried to search through all the talks he had had with the young miss in the past few weeks and months.

No one named Billy came up in their conversations. Not a classmate. Not even a friend (She didn’t have any. She always calls them classmates.). All that she does is go to school, practice after school, visit the psych ward, and go back home. That’s it.

Before anyone could say anything else, a knock at the door took their attention. Gordon permitted them to enter. A young officer opened the door, his face filled with hesitation.

“Sir, we have an issue in the showers.”

Gordon mutters under his breath while taking off his glasses and rubbing his tired eyes. “What is it now, Perez?”

“Um, it’s the Wayne girl.”

That got everyone standing up, with Dr. Vidal already running out the door towards the showers at the back of the station. The three men were also going a step after her, with Alfred almost catching up to her.

“What the hell happened?” Gordon questioned the poor, nervous guy.

“She broke all the mirrors, sir…”

“What?!”

➳➳➳➳➳┄┄※┄┄➳➳➳➳➳

Forget riding in a police car with the signal on, taking a hot shower after being in nasty water was the top of best feeling in the world. Fight her on that fact.

The weird doctor was pretty nice. It had been odd at first, being alone with her and the nice police grandpa (he was called Gordon. That’s what she heard the cops call him when they got to the station while he guided her through the halls.). The doctor took care of her head first, putting some stinging spray on the gash to clean any nasty stuff that may have gotten on it. While she continued to check on her body for any other wounds, she asked questions.

Way too many questions. Who knew doctors were this chatty?

When Gordon left to heaven knows where, the doctor seemed to finally relax about the number of questions she threw at her and became quiet.

Which made the ambience awkward.

Which made her start to talk and make it less awkward.

It didn’t work.

Thankfully, the doctor (she grew tired of calling her that so she asked for a name. The woman only looked at her for a bit before saying Rio and go back to write on her file. Such a sociable lady.) didn’t tell her to shut it and just let her talk and talk until she ran out of things to say.

Her skin was vibrating under the still-wet clothes, the uncomfortable sensation making her bounce her legs from her seat on the medical cushioned table. Her fingers were wringing at the white paper beneath her, the crinkling sound breaking goosebumps into her skin.

Then, more personal questions started. But this time, Rio was looking directly at her.

From her full name to where she lived. Even the last thing she remembered before waking up in the nasty pool. It was quite an eye-opening experience, and it left her feeling lost.

Do you know your last name? How old are you? Um, odd. She can’t recall.

What day is your birthday? What does your dad do for a living? …That’s very weird. Birthdays were a funny thing. And her dad was- was a- he was? He was fading, he faded.withthem.he’swiththem.heisgonegonegonegon-

What grade are you in? What is your favorite color?...

Who are your siblings? How many do you have? …justone-

Where is your mother? alivealivealivealivealiVEALIVE-

It was a very tiring experience. Her head was pounding, and she had to close her eyes and lie down for a while. Rio got her some water and pills. Said it was for the headache.

They helped very little. Her fingers continued to tremble around the half-empty plastic cup.

Which was why it was the perfect moment to ask if she could use the showers. Rio blinked at her before rolling her eyes and handing her some sweats and a towel she found in the locker room. 

And that’s how she got her very much needed shower.

As soon as she got inside, she beelined towards the benches and put down the new clothes and stripped out of the nasty, ruined uniform. Then she hauled towards the nearest head shower and stood beneath the hot stream for a while.

Rio told her that while the bandage on her head was waterproof, she would have switch it for a new one after she finished. So she didn’t mind wetting her head.

Throughout the whole thing, her hair hadn’t exactly come to her mind. It wasn’t a priority.

Her fingers got stuck in a few knots that would be hard to get rid of without a brush at hand, so she just tried to get out as much of the moldy smell emitting from her with a bar of soap and a small shampoo bottle that Rio got her. It was a bit hard but not impossible, the scent of pomegranate and rosemary soothing and washing away the nasty gunk of her hair.

She hadn’t realized that she was calm enough to close her eyes and enjoy being clean after all of that fiasco.

A new plan had to be made. Not having a single clue of where she was and only her name and Billy’s was not working in her favor. After this, she had no idea where she could go or turn to. She needed guidance, someone to turn to and tell her what-

This is not her hair.

All of her thoughts came to a full stop. She had looked down to take the strands of hair that got tangled on her fingers. Just a simple action. Nothing out of the ordinary.

But the strands were wrong. It wasn’t her hair.

Black, long strands of hair were going between her fingers. They were forming different shapes and lines on her skin, which led to another thought.

This is not her skin. Those are not her fingers.

The water suddenly felt too heavy on her. She switched it off and ran off, almost slipping on the floor until she reached her towel and wrapped it around her.

This is not her hair. This is not her skin. These were not her fingers.

She gripped the towel, her gaze still focused on the hair strands on her hands. A ringing sound started to sound around her ears—a very far-off sound.

This is not her hair. This is not her skin. These are not her fingers.

She lifted the hand closer, looking at the black hairs while a shuddering breath left her lips. The ringing grew closer and louder. Goosebumps broke out on the skin, and her stomach fell down in a very uncomfortable sensation.

This is not her hair. This is not her skin. These are not her fingers.

One strand of hair was rubbed between the fingertips. Tiny water drops dripped down from it, revealing the natural pattern of the hair. Pin straight. The ringing was just by her ear, not registering any other noise. Her chest was heaving rapidly, heart at her throat, and a cold sweat was going down her spine.

Not her hair. Not her skin. Not her fingers.

…What else wasn’t hers?

A mirror. She needed a mirror. Right now.

Her head moved around in circles, the ends of the wet hair wiping against her back and making a sick feeling go through her body. She took a few steps backward, looking for any type of thing that had a reflection on it.

It felt too long. Her hair was never this long. She was sure of it.

‘There! Corner!’ her mind supplied when a glint of light caught her attention by the corner of her eye.

At one moment, she was by the benches, clothes folded or thrown on the floor and forgotten. At the next, she was standing right in front of the mirror, body trembling as she finally made eye contact with her reflection.

Not even the noise of lockers slamming open by a gust of fast wind snapped her out of her trance.

The facial structure was sharp. Cheekbones specifically. A very distinctive mole stood on the left side of her face, just above the start of the cheekbone. Skin looked pale, almost translucent due to the lack of sunlight. She could see the blue lines of the veins underneath her skin thanks to the white lights of the bathroom.

She looked sick. Very sick. Her mouth was suddenly very dry, making her swallow hard and feeling all senses of wrongness in her chest to the ends of her fingertips.

This was wrong. She was all wrong.

She took a few shaky steps closer to the mirror. Close enough to have hands against the cold surface. Fingers trembling, making a tapping motion as her gaze wandered around the reflection. 

Straight black hair, some heavy knots visibly sticking out around it. It reached halfway down her back. Water stopped dripping down the ends since she made her way to the mirror. The bandage gauze was still attached to the side of her head, no signs of blood on sight, but the material looked a bit inflated due to being soaked.

And her eyes… she only saw a glimpse of cold grey before she slammed her lids shut. Scrunching them hardly until the only thing she could see was white spots around the darkness.

The tapping increased. It moved the glass beneath her fingers.

It was all wrong. She wasn’t supposed to look like this. That wasn’t her. It couldn’t be. She is supposed to look like Billy. She doesn’t have black hair. She doesn’t have long hair. She is not this pale. She is not sick.

The mirror trembled under her fingers.

She is not this tall. She is supposed to be shorter. She doesn’t have these awkward limbs.  She looks like-

…Who was she supposed to look like?

Her mind supplies images, but they are all missing something. Like a magazine that has stuff cut out or ripped away. She sees a house, but the people are gone. She sees a front yard, but the neighbors are gone. A Halloween party, but nobody is on the streets. A children's room, but the beds are empty.

The mirror shakes under the pressure.

An empty house office. A dog bowl with no food. A messy kitchen with no kids. A dinner set at the table with nobody to eat it. A garden with gardening tools lying around. A red sky is coming closer and closer.

A framed picture with a family whose faces are scratched out.

She screams as the mirror explodes under her tapping fingers. 

The shards flew around the place, but not a single one touched her. Some landed on other mirrors, the impact making them shatter. 

She jumped back and landed sitting on the floor, head and heart pounding, as officers entered the place with all the commotion. Someone tried to grab at her, but she flinched and scrambled back until she made contact with the cold wall.

Her ears were ringing. Vision blurry. All she could see were blobs moving around, some farther and others closer. The voices were muffled. Her knees were brought up to her chest, hugging them tightly. Waiting for whatever was happening to pass.

Time was weird. Everything moved either too fast or too slow. Was this what a panic attack was, or was this something else entirely? Either way, she hated it. Hopefully, she would never have to go through it again.

It was then that Rio’s face came into view. The first person her mind managed to register.

She didn’t touch her. She was talking, but the ringing was still going on strong. Rio began to talk to the other people around the room. It actually looked like yelling, but it wasn’t at her, so she was not going to say anything about it.

Then a warm touch came to her shoulder.

This time, she didn’t flinch. It was weird. Her body leaned against it before she turned her head to the side to see who it was. And why she felt so safe and calm out of the sudden.

An old man. Dressed sharply, like that butler in the sitcom about a nanny. Gray hair and a concerned expression on his face. A classic mustache that brought some tears to her eyes, along with a warm feeling that spread from deep in her chest.

“(Y/N), can you hear me?” his accented voice registered through the fading ringing.

Before he could say anything else, she dove into his arms, forgetting that she was only covered by a towel. Sobs and tears stained his clothes. But before any apologies could come out, the man wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly as he talked to her soothingly. Caressing her head while she continued to cry.

A whisper went on the back of her mind. It was quick and gone in an instant. But she still heard it.

‘Alfred. Safe. Trust him. Only him. Not the family.’

‘Never the family’

“Alfred,” she whispered out loud. The man, Alfred, sighed in relief at hearing her respond.

“It’s alright. You can rest now, my dear. I’ll take care of it.”

She sighed shakily at his words. Eyes slid close. Not to sleep, just calm down for a bit. There was no way she could sleep with all that had transpired in the past few hours.

But I have someone now. I’m not as alone as I thought.

And that was enough for now.

Author's Note: This chapter was a beast to write. It will probably be the only long chapter for a while. I was even thinking of dividing it in two parts but I decided against it. Next chapter we are finally going to see the dynamic with the Wayne, so excited for it because it will be hilarious. Maximoff is about to enter like a tornado through the manor lol. Let me know what you all think, what theories and your favorite part of this chapter you all liked!! Happy early chapter and sending hugs, GG✨

Tag List:  @bat1212 @kneelforloki @1abi @galaxypurplerose @yhin-gg @cxcilla @momentomoribitch @stargirl404 @initial-ari @welpthisisboring @icefox8155 @bunniotomia @alittlelostmoonchild

Bonus Memes:

[recycledraccoon]

What if....

Damien and Danyal Al Ghul are twins. Danyal takes heavily after Bruce but Damien is a perfect mix of their parents, and he came out of the artificial womb first, so Damien is decided to be the heir.

Growing up in the League is hard, but Damien excels in a way that Danyal doesn't, because for all the potential Danyal has, he hates the killing and there is a rebellious streak evident even as young as they are. A rebellious streak is a...very dangerous thing to have. Grandfather won't kill Danyal, for as ruthless as he is he doesn't kill his own lineage. But that is not to say that the additional "training" Danyal goes through is merciful.

Damien and Danyal love each other, not just as brothers but also in the way partners do when they don't even have to blink to anticipate the others actions in the midst of action. Which is why Damien, not even yet six, can see the way Danyal is being broken down under the burden of their joint legacy.

So many times, in so many of the universes in which he exists, Danyal Al Ghul is or is seemingly killed, of which is the catalyst for his escape from the League of Assassins, and his brother is left behind thinking him truly dead.

In this universe, when the Demon Twins are out on a training mission (an assassination of a target so easy it's beneath the League for anything other than the simplest of first training missions) a massive earthquake occurs.

They are alive at the end, but both their communication devices are beyond repair. Damien is more roughed up than Danyal at the end, but both are dirty and bloodied.

This is an unprecedented opportunity, of which Damien knows deep down he will never get again.

He loves his brother deeply, but Danyal is weak, always hesitating before the kill, hands shaking. Damien loves his brother and fighting side by side, but he values more the quiet moments when Danyal is looking at star maps and trying to match them up with the sky above their home or making snarky comments about their trainers under his breath. (After when they can't hear Damien doesn't laugh but Danyal always knows he agrees and is amused.)

Grandfather's and Mother's additional training to bring Danyal up to Damien's level is making Danyal go quiet and emotionless and Damien is selfish.

(Damien convinces his twin brother to leave the League of Assassins.)

Damien drags himself to the rendezvous point and returns home alone, reporting the target dead and his brother lost under rock in the quake, body unable to be recovered. He is colder, furious at the world and himself. He pushes and pushes and PUSHES himself. He is the last remaining of a set and he will prove himself perfect to carry the title of Heir perfectly and without reproach. He is more loyal day by day, the guilt his selfishness and betrayal of his family a deep sting he can't ignore.

Talia does search, but so many bodies were lost or unidentified inside mass graves. She grieves and then refocuses on her remaining son without looking back. Grandfather laments the loss, but cares little for the spare in the long run.

Meanwhile, Danyal hid himself long enough to sneak onto one of many transports filled with foreign aid. He is small and sneakier than any average stowaway, and remains undetected all the way to the US.

He doesn't go to Gotham to find his father, but picks a direction at random and leaves, until eventually he's picked up and put in the system. Bouncing around until one day, not long after he turns seven, the Dr.'s Fenton and their young daughter are visiting in their search to adopt their second child. (A combination of genetics and radiation from their earliest experiments in college leaving the pair with low fertility rates and very high risks if they ever did get pregnant. The two get procedures early on and adopt Jazz when she is still fairly young, but wait until she is a bit older before adopting again.)

Danyal Al Ghul had an older twin brother.

Daniel Fenton doesn't think he could handle having an older brother again, but an older sister is acceptable.

Danyal left to go full civilian, and when Damien had sent him off decided he would carry that knowledge to his grave if he must. He tells no one, and does not even mention ever having a twin when he goes to live with their Father in Gotham. If Mother did not tell Father of the deceased son, then neither will Damien.

Danyal Al Ghul is dead, and Damien will keep it that way.

.

.

.

.

(The greatest secret is this: The two have never lost contact. It is very easy, during a natural disaster, to steal a pair of burner phones, each with one number only on them and prepaid with enough stolen funds to last years. Danny smuggles his with him in one piece, Damien smuggles his in pieces, ready to be hidden and repaired when necessary. He checks it scarcely, but every few months is enough to make sure his twin is alive. When he goes to live with Father in Gotham, they communicate a bit more frequently. This remains his most fiercely protected secret.)

[madamechrissy]

=͟͟͞♡ Healing Hearts =͟͟͞♡

=͟͟͞♡ Pairings:-Doctor Gojo x Intern F!Reader

=͟͟͞♡ Summary- You are the top Surgical Doctor intern, along with Maki, Yuta and Toge. You all are exhausted from passing the first month, sixteen plus hour days, days you don't even go home, all to get a top spot with the star Surgeon, Dr. Gojo, your resident doctor and boss. Or as you call him, Dr. Hojo. He's takes nothing serious but his surgeries it seems, and has a reputation for being a player, but he has that top spot, so you want to prove your worth! You just have to ignore those stupid butterflies he gives you, and those pretty blue eyes, along with his interest in you, and focus!

=͟͟͞♡ Contents/warnings- MDNI- Warnings- overuse/incorrect use of prescription meds, angsty asf in places, scene of a medical procedure, heavy subject matter, some sexual tension. Reader, 26, Dr. Gojo 34- Grey's vibes - this chap, misuse of prescription drugs, snorting said drugs, light angst, explicit sex, like A LOT of sex, oral (f recieving) talking you through it, multiple positions, TOXIC attraction, possessive Gojo, yandere tendencies tbh, lots of drama and feelings =͟͟͞♡ WC this chap- 9k

♡ Reblogs and comments appreciated if you enjoy ♡

=͟͟͞♡ Part Seven =͟͟͞♡ Playlist =͟͟͞♡ Masterlist =͟͟͞♡ Part Nine

Part Eight

“It’s beautiful here, Satoru. Thank you.” You’re in the most elegant of dining rooms of this restaurant, already so fancy you feel just a little out of place, but Satoru seems to know everyone, grinning as they fawn over him and you.

“I had a feeling you’d love it. Plus this way some privacy.” His voice drops just an octave, rushing over you in waves, the desire you feel for him is hard to ignore, but you know you need to learn more. Despite the temptation of his plump lips as they smirk just a bit, while the waitress pours you each a glass of wine.

You sip it then, moaning at the taste. “What is this!?”

“House plum wine, it’s our specialty.” She smiles at you sweetly, then eyes Satoru, leaning over just a bit, you can tell she’s trying to get his attention, far too close to him for comfort. “Dr. Gojo, would you like your usual?”

“That depends on what my girl here wants.” He doesn’t have to say that, do that, you two don’t even know what you are, but here he is, an arm around you, essentially brushing off the pretty waitress to hold you close. “What are you thinking, love?”

Love.

Satoru is calling you love. God if you don’t wish it could be true, that maybe Satoru could love you enough, maybe he does in his own way, but it’s a cruel torture, the worst sort of joke. To love someone who clearly doesn’t love himself, despite the outer appearance that he does, the cocky, conceited jokes, the winks and smirks so self sure.

But you’re already learning, it’s to hide something.

“You pick for me, maybe some seafood?” He nods then, and spits off two orders that you don’t even understand, smiling as he hands her the menus, you notice she looks just a little dejected. “Did you sleep with her, Hojo?” Satoru gasps, putting his hand to his chest then.

“Rude! Calling me some floozy hmm?”

“Well, you were?” He sighs now, tilting your chin up just a bit.

“Before I kissed you, after that it was over.” His thumb brushes your lower lip, when they bring in appetizers for you all, sitting on pretty ceramic plates, the soft music gently flowing in as the doors open again.

“You love to fuck my brain up, Doctor.”

“Love to fuck more than that, intern.” His voice is soft, flowing over you as he pops a little hors d'œuvre in your mouth, watching you as you chew it thoughtfully, eyes fluttering shut as it hits your taste buds. “That look, fuck. Is that better than me?”

“So much better.” He chuckles when you laugh a bit.

“So… how was the day, overwhelming?” You nod, sighing, as the two of you start to talk about Choso now, the device possibility, so much today alone had gone on, but then every day at the prestige hospital was rather hectic.

The plates are served, and you both find it easy to be on this date - a true date - not a rushed little bar encounter, or a night spent at each other’s homes, it felt so real and tangible. The topics get a little heavier soon, dinner is done and dessert is being served, the most decadent little morsels you could imagine, as more of the sweet wine fills your bloodstream.

It’s so perfect for a moment you forget how you got here, forget just how horrible it was before, and he can almost pretend that you don’t need to know his flaws. But you have already seen him at his bad point, you already know some of what makes him not good enough for a girl like you, but he can’t prevent himself, he wants you and only you, and he needs it like he needs air.

“Why are the doses so high? High tolerance?” Your question is soft and delicate, as you ask the question carefully, sipping your drink once more and looking right into his pretty blue eyes, a conundrum of feelings scattered in them like stars.

“Very high, I’ve always had one, could drink a fifth and act straight- I’m not much of a drinker though, a little wine here and there.”

“Well thank goodness, drinking with Xanax…”

“Yeah, Klonopin, Ambien, all of them don’t go too well with it.”

“And how do you function? Honestly, the levels…”

“The more you take them, the higher the tolerance. But I typically don’t just snort them, unless I need them to hit quickly. But even then, that night in the locker room I had taken several.” He’s quiet, as are you, remembering the night so vividly. “I was upset and overdid it, even for me.”

“Upset because of our fight.” He nods now, jaw clenching.

“I don’t want to lose you.” Satoru strokes your cheek, you feel it, your emotions rising, heart pacing in your chest, as you struggle to keep your composure.

“But you never want to live together? No kids I guess I get now, no marriage I can understand, but how do you not live with someone ever? I don’t mean now or even soon, but never? It’s like you’re afraid to let someone in.” Satoru runs a hand through those silky white locks, frowning then.

“The main reason for that is,” Satoru sighs a bit, as he leans so close to you, you practically taste the sweet plum wine on his breath, mingling with yours, before he leans back, his adam’s apple bobbing with a gulp. “I think whoever would live with me, would grow to hate me.”

Your heart shatters at his words, tears swimming in your vision, hating that this man could feel that way. You ease back yourself, looking up at blue eyes that hide far, far too much pain, slipping a hand up the softness of his sweater, then higher, brushing along the line of his jaw. He’s watching you so seriously, like he’s waiting for a blow, jaw so tense you try to rub it to ease it.

“Oh, Satoru…” Your voice is shaky as you speak, taking a tremulous breath, hand now slipping up over a high cheek bone, brushing across where he’s flushed just the lightest shade of pink.

“You know a little more about me now, but it can get bad, my depression - it’s a reason I’m on it all. And the reason I work constantly, but at home alone sometimes… It's really bad. And I get… angry, frustrated. Fuck I can be mean, you’ve seen all of it.” His hand comes to brush your hair off your shoulder, fingers long and elegant against the delicate slope of your shoulder.

“Think I can’t handle that?” You raise a brow at him. “Have you met my ex, he was a shit.”

“Yeah you have bad taste.” You roll your eyes, but your breath catches when his fingers dance along your shoulder, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “You could handle it because you’re strong, doesn’t mean you should.”

“I think you’re mean to yourself.”

“Oh?” He frowns now, hand falling.

“Yes, you’re afraid to let anyone know you, because you want them to think you’re ‘perfect’.”

“Ouch, psychiatrist is your calling.” He’s trying to make light of it, a smile that doesn’t meet his eyes, but you cup his face now, leaning forward, his lashes lower, eyeing your bitten lips, dying to press them against his. Dying to kiss every inch of you all over again.

“I want to know all of you. I won’t get scared away easily, if you have a bad day, you could talk, tell me. We could… I won’t tell you not to take them, but you could talk to me first. Before you…”

“Snort them?” He cuts you off, and you nod, Satoru sighs now, easing his head further against your touch, as his hands come to grip your waist. “Are you asking me to take them as prescribed, intern?”

“I think they’ll last longer and be used less, yes.”

“Is it a doctor’s order?” His lips quirk up, but he’s hiding it, the vulnerability now, you can feel it, even as his hands warm you through the layers of your cashmere sweater, igniting so much held inside of you.

“It’s a special request from a girl who adores you.” Satoru blinks back emotion, pulling back completely, making your lips tremble, heart hammering. “I shouldn’t have said it…”

“No, no.” He needs to compose himself, your words almost break him then, words he never knew he wanted or needed, but to come from your perfect lips, he feels you gripping his chest like a vise.

“It’s just a gentle suggestion. I’ll date you anyway. Okay? Satoru I will never judge you, ever.” He almost cries, someone so strong reduced to tears because you make him feel more than he should.

He doesn’t deserve you.

Your hand comes to his shoulder, he’s still turned away in the elegant dining room, the two of you alone, soft music filtering in from the restaurant, mingling with the gentle noise of laughing and chatting couples and friends. But the two of you are alone, and all you can hear is your heartbeats, yours erratic, as you wonder if you’re asking too much, pushing too hard.

“If I wasn’t selfish I’d leave you alone, I’d let you go be with someone who can give you everything.” Satoru’s words are hoarse, as he turns back to you now, and you see tears in his beautiful azure eyes, bringing tears of your own, burning your eyes. “You’re young, you think you could fix something so broken.”

“I don’t want to fix you, and you’re not broken. Stop it. I’m not that young, okay? I have my own experiences in growing up quickly.” Satoru sighs now, shaking his head.

“Shit, you had no parents… I’m sorry. I’m not… thoughtful.”

“You are. You’re more than you give yourself credit for. Are you perfect, no, you’re kind of a mess.” He smiles a bit, as you’re swiping tears, he hates it, you seeing them, seeing his weakness.

You’re his weakness.

“But there’s a lot of good. A lot.”

“Don’t deserve your presence.”

“Satoru…”

“I don’t. But I’m greedy, baby, so I’ll take you anyway.” He yanks you to him now, against his hard body, a hand tangling in the hair at the nape of your neck, brushing your own tears with his other hand, before thumbing your lower lip, running the pad of it across your lip. “I’ll take anything you give me.”

“Why’s that, hmm?” Your eyes flutter shut when he kisses your cheeks, then your nose, your eyelids, your hands grip his sweater, body overheating.

“Because I can’t get you off my fucking mind, out of my heart, you’re seeped in so fucking deep, do you know?” He’s kissing down the side of your neck, moaning as he hears your soft cry. He loves you, fuck he does. He doesn’t know how to say it, he doesn’t know if he deserves to speak it, if it will just hurt you in the end.

“You think you haven’t sunk into my soul, Satoru Gojo?” Your words make him pause, pulling away and looking down at you, brushing back your hair, his other arm possessively wrapped, pulling you so close you’re almost on him. “I’m falling.”

Shit, you said it.

He pauses, then exhales, a shaky breath with a soft moan, before making you gasp, when he stands, picking you up shoving aside your ceramic plates of untouched desserts, and sits you right on that thick white table cloth. Your heart hammers in your chest as you stare into eyes that reveal it all, swirling with every emotion he tries so hard to hide.

“I’ve already fallen for you. Fallen so fucking deep it’s killing me slowly, breathing your air but not holding you, kissing you,” he does just that now, as you whine into his mouth, his words washing over you. “Being deep inside you, feeling you, kills me so much I fucked it up, and I’ll fuck it up again.”

“Satoru, you-” He’s slammed his lips once more, an arm on either side, pinning you to the table, stepping between your spread thighs, kissing you stupid, drugging you like the xanax in his bloodstream.

“But I’m selfish, so selfish, I’ll let you be with someone like me, even though I should love you enough to be with someone who deserves you.” You’re sniffling, shaking your head, but he cups your face, eyes devouring you, and you sink deeper and deeper into the pit that is your feelings. “I will take anything of you.”

“Then have me, all of me.” Satoru moans and pins your wrists, as he presses you back on this high, fancy banquet table, yanking up your top, his hand slipping up it, your chest heaving as he finds you over your lace bra, making you cry out.

“I can’t let go if we do it again. I won’t let you leave, I wish I was fucking kidding, do you really wanna get dragged down with me?” His words are dark, but you are past pretending, caring, any of it. You just nod, and he sighs, shaking his head, hand slipping down under your waistband, finding your slick heat, moaning as he does. “I can’t let you go.”

“Then don’t- ah!” He’s running his fingers between your drenched folds, so ready to sink his cock in you again, fill you like your body is begging for, looking down at your pretty face, already fucked out from a touch. A face so pretty he’s not sure he deserves it either. “Please…”

“Gonna be mine, hmm? You sure sweetheart?” His desperation breaks through, and you nod now, giving him the go ahead, he moans softly, sinking two fingers deep in your tight entrance, pressing up just so, you scream out at it before covering your mouth, realizing though alone people could still hear. “No.”

He yanks down your hand, and you’re biting your lip, gasping and gripping his wrist, which flexes as he fingers your slick walls, that grip him so good he almost cums from it. “C-can’t be quiet…”

“I need to look at your face when you cum. You can’t cover it.” You’re whining out, as his intense gaze and his fingers press your spot, like he knows you so fucking well. “I want to see your mouth open, your eyes roll back, wanna see the sweat that breaks out on your brow.”

“F-fuck…” You’re barely able to function, your walls convulsing around his thick fingers, soaking and loud, echoing in the elegant room, mixing with your soft cries, so drunk off him your head spins.

“No one can make you feel this, huh baby?” He’s insane again, his eyes dilating, like he’s in some fucking trance as he plays you, as you drown in his eyes, swirling storms that you can’t stop looking into. “Asked you a question sweetheart.”

“No one.” He moans then, fingers even deeper, thumb pressing into your twitching little clit, all while he watches you unravel.

“That’s it, let go f’me. Wanna watch you fall apart.” You do then, cries muffled barely by you biting the fuck out of your lower lip to the point it’s almost bleeding from your teeth tearing your skin, as your pleasure washes over you in waves, back arching up, and Satoru nearly cums from just watching you, feeling you. “Beautiful, fuck.”

“Please, in me.” Your whisper destroys him, surely even though you’ve rented the room anyone could just walk in, but you’re far past caring any longer, and he’s ready to give you all of him, you wouldn’t even care if a whole restaurant saw you at this point, cunt pulsing around nothing when his fingers slip out.

“Fuck, I want to but I can’t keep quiet.” His lips quirk up just a bit, and you breathlessly giggle, perhaps the first time you’ve felt relief since it all, as he puts those fingers to his mouth, sucking them up and exhaling. “Come to my place.”

“So much for taking it slow.” You murmur, sitting up now with his help, shaking when he presses a kiss to your lips and you taste your sweet arousal all over him, kissing it right off him. Satoru sighs, cupping your face, hand entangling in your hair, pulling it at the nape of your neck, making your head fall back.

“I’ll fuck you slow if you want.”

“Shit. Let’s go.”

The drive through the snow is quiet, aside from music Satoru has slowly playing, and you’re snug against him, hand brushing up and down his chest, like you can’t get close enough to him, and he’s kissing you at every stop light. You’re so fucked up on him, on how your panties are soaked against your leggings, the heat warming the two of you so much.

“Need to be inside you, fuck.” He’s murmuring, his hand slipping to your waist, while you kiss on his neck.

“Focus on the road.” You’re breathless when he softly whimpers, while you find a spot right on his neck.

“Shit…” He’s clenching the wheel, cock leaking precum again, dying to bury itself in your slick little cunt. When the two of you finally get to his place, he’s quickly dragging you inside, kissing you desperately, yanking your sweater right off. You’re hastily repeating the action on him, gasping when he turns you around, unsnapping your bra and letting it fall.

He’s pressing you against the front door, littering your shoulders with bites, hot and hungry, his hand slipping down your spine, sending shivers down your body, as he brushes hair off the nape of your neck. “Satoru, please.”

“Let me savor this, been dreaming of you all week.” You’re whining out when he turns you again, kissing you hungrily, big hands gripping your tits as he’s yanking you against him, thigh between yours, making you eagerly grind against him. “You’re all I’ll ever want.”

“Don’t say that, mmm.” You’re shaking your head and he sighs, on his knees before you then, unbuckling your boots and easing them down, as your breath comes quicker and quicker, echoing out loud, mixing with the pounding of blood rushing through to your ears.

“I’ll never want anyone else.” His raw declaration terrifies you, fuck you know he’ll probably hurt you, damaged beautiful man, so opposite of you it’s insane, but you’re drawn to him with inexplicable need. His blue eyes under white lashes are drunk when he finally glides your leggings down, moaning when he sees you. “You’ve ruined your panties, baby.”

“Mnh! Please…” You’re gripping his shoulders to balance, throwing your thigh over his shoulder, gripping you by your ass so rough you gasp. “F-fuck!”

“Let me drink you, please, I need you so badly baby.” He’s damn near slurring his words, lapping a stripe over your panties before he pulls them to the side, revealing your glistening, drippy cunt. “God look at you.”

Your moans are throaty when he’s drinking you up against the door, fuck you’d not even made it a step inside before he does, before he’s soaked from you, dripping all over his pretty face, and he can’t get enough of you. He’s moaning, fucking your tight entrance with his long tongue, soaking you into his tastebuds, never wanting to leave your thighs.

He looks up to see your pretty tits bounce as you grip his hair, head falling back to smack the door, while Satoru laps up all your arousal, groaning against you, making it vibrate. “I’m c-cumming!”

“Good, cum all over me.” You’re done then, cunt gushing so much he can’t catch it all, it’s falling down his chin, even when he gulps as much as he can, feeling your quivering cunt grip and pulse around his tongue. You’re blinded as it hits so hard, you nearly collapse, but he’s holding you firm, kissing your clit, neglected aside from little bumps of his nose.

“Oh my god…” You’re delirious, so much held back for so long for him, fuck even before you were so afraid to get hurt you held back, but you’re done holding back any longer, you’re so ready to let him have all of you. “Take me.”

“Fuck…” He stands up so quickly you get dizzy, snatching you up in his arms, kissing you hungry, messy, while he carries you to his room, hastily flicking on the soft lights.

“Why on?” You murmur, blinking your fuzzy vision as you land on his soft, plush bed, in his spotless fucking room, gripping his egyptian cotton sheets, thick and soft as he unbuckles his belt with a click.

“I need the lights on to see all of your anatomy.” You bite that lip again, thighs pressing together, leaned up on your hands as you hungrily watch him strip fully, pretty, perfect cock springing out, begging for attention. You go to grab him but he pins you down, shaking his head. “Won’t last if you touch me, wanna embarrass me?”

“You always last long, Doctor Gojo. Think I don’t miss touching him?” He exhales now, lifting a thigh, pressing his leaky tip at your entrance now.

“You can after, I need to be inside you.” You nod then, giving him the go ahead, and he shoves inside so deep you scream, so ready it’s insane, you can’t stop your shaking, convulsing while he breathes so heavy over you, one hand on your wrists still, pinning them to the pillow. “Fucking feel you.”

“Mnh!” You’re already fucked out from two, three strokes, splitting you in half like only Satoru Gojo can. Your cunt stretches to accommodate, gushing down his veiny length, down his heavy balls that smack your little ass hole now, as he pounds your cunt so merciless.

But that’s not all that fucks you up, no it’s his damn eyes, so dark and desperate for you, he can’t rip them from your face, fucking up into you harder, losing himself while your hands go numb in his grip. “God, never felt anything this good.”

He’s whispering words in your ear, as he rests his head, snowy locks tickling your cheek, the loud sounds of skin smacking in the air. He pulls back, watching the bulge move inside you, putting his hand over it to feel him fucking you, his cock moving slowly in and out, all while he feels you pulse around him. Your head falls back, hips arching, slick walls just gripping his cock way too good.

But mostly he sees your pretty face, screwed up in pleasure, a face he didn’t think he’d get to see again, and he dies over it. Letting your wrists free, you touch his abdomen, fingers running over perfectly defined muscles, slick with sweat from his exertions. You watch them flex and tremble, slipping higher to his chest, feeling his erratic heartbeat against your palm.

“Satoru…” You’re breathing out his name, so close now, he leans over you again, his other hand dipping between your bodies, finding your clit and rubbing it in circles, pressing against the twitchy little nub, watching you fall apart.

“Need to cum all over my cock, don’t you baby?” You just nod, ever so weakly, drowning in him, in Satoru, words threatening to spill from your lips- just how much you love the man that you’ve only scratched the surface of. “Then cum f’me, all over my cock, make a mess. Ah, that’s it sweetheart, almost there.”

He’s talking you further over the edge, slamming his cock so deep then you do fall apart, nails pressing and leaving crescent shapes in his back, head falling to the side for his teeth to sink into. Your orgasm washes all over you until you’re weak, twitching and shaking, just gasping for breath, the sounds sinking into his ears, as your pleasure injects into his veins.

You are the best high there is.

“God, you’re perfect.” You shake your head weakly, and he slows, lifting his finger off your clit now, slowing his stroke to agonizing slowness, in and out, letting you feel every single inch, every ridge and vein on his cock. “You are. I never want you to leave this bed, fuck.”

“Mmn… you don’t…”

“I do.” He’s kissing you deeply, and that is when you fall off the imperceptible ledge he had you on, that’s when you kiss him back with fervor, giving a heart you’re terrified he will break, but how can you not? How can you not drink this man is, even knowing the pain that will follow.

Satoru flips you with ease, he’s got you on your stomach, as he hooks a thigh over yours, smacking your ass and groaning as he watches it bloom with his handprint. “Ah!”

“I need you to be mine, can you? All mine?” He is insane, but you’re insane too, nodding, knowing the version of ‘his’ is so different from what you truly think of.

Are you willing to fall?

He’s got a hand around your throat, shoving his thick cock back inside you, breathing right in your ear, even his breaths, so heavy and desperate push you on further. Your head falls back, ass arching against his pelvis, when he slams so deep inside you, long body taking over your much smaller one, as his very essence wraps you like the darkest shadow.

Darkness, swirling, heady mixing with the scent of him, with the feel of him, when the deprivation of everything but him happens, and you’re getting your throat squeezed at the sweetest pressure. “Tiny little neck, like it when I squeeze?”

You weakly whine in response, when he pushes you to that edge again, you’ve lost count of how much pleasure he’s brought you, how many orgasms wreck you, as he chokes your throat, squeezing just perfect on your pressure points. It’s fuzzy, your mind, it’s all gone, instinct only allowing you to feel the pleasure instead.

“Want me to fill you up baby? So full of me?” You nod eagerly, as Satoru busts inside you, hot white cum coating your quivering walls, and you lose the last thread you had left in your brain, the last thing connecting you to anything rational.

“Ah!”

“Fuck… god, she’s milking me for it all…” He’s slowing his strokes, exhaling now, while he peppers kisses across your shoulder, then up your neck. “Fuck I didn’t know I’d get to ever again.”

“What would you have done?” He eases out now, sighing and continuing his kisses all over your chest.

“What would I have done?” You nod then, sitting up a bit, legs pressing together, cunt throbbing, you feel his cum seeping out of your abused little hole now, as he runs his fingers down your smooth legs.

“Yes, gone to your Hojo ways?”

He laughs softly, shaking his head, kissing your ankle now, as you’re still reeling from what had just happened. “I’d have jerked off and snorted pills and cried.”

“Shit.”

“Mmhmm… shit, can I snort a xanax once more before I call it quits?” You blink a bit, and he grins. “I wanna snort one off your cunt.”

“No! What!?”

“Inner thigh?” You’re torn between thinking it’s hot and thinking it’s bat shit insane, he sees it, smirking. “It’s a dream of a dying man.”

“You’re not dying, you're just insane.” You’re still trembling from how hard you’ve cum, and he’s too pretty pouting like that. “Okay once.”

“I love you.” You snort, shaking your head, when he drags a tray from the table, black and gold filigree designs, xanax bar crushed with quick skill, like he’s done it a million times. You tense a bit, watching him gather it with a razor blade, then onto a thick cardstock. “I thought xanax tasted the best, until your pussy.”

“You’re comparing me to chemicals?” You cross your arms, and he grins, the devious psycho doctor that he is, coming to lean over you now, spreading a thigh.

“Nothing tastes as good as you, but xanax is close.” You’re watching with quick breaths as he sprinkles the white powder on your inner thigh, exhaling nervously when his snowy white hair bends down. “My nose will never be the same.”

“It’ll be happier, you know.” He smiles up at you, snorting the powder up quickly, his breath far too close to your cunt, you’re whining softly at the sensation, as he laps the residue up with his tongue now, moaning. “Does Xanax taste that good?”

“It does. Here.” He’s leaning up, kissing you now, and you moan as his saliva drips against your mouth, and you taste it.

“Must be acquired.” You whisper, saliva string dripping between your lips, and you see it, his eyes dilate, his body relaxes.

“Nothing tastes as good as you. Especially with my cum pouring from you.” He’s shoving the tray aside, prone position again, licking your cunt and groaning. “God I knew it would be the best mix.”

“Mnh! You’re f-fucking insane…”

“I know, baby.” He’s lapping his cum out of you, while you grip him, and he’s fully fucked up, the xanax hitting and making him enjoy your pretty cunt even more.

“Last time.” Your soft cry warns, and he sighs, nodding, pulling your lips apart to watch more of his white cum leak out of your slutty hole.

“Last time, doc.” You roll your eyes at him, but it’s soon them just rolling back, when he’s sucking on your clit, and it drools all along him.

“F-fuck!” Your hoarse voice just makes him impossibly more ready, pressing his still sticky cock against the mattress.

“Again.” His quiet command is impossible to ignore, you simply nod just a bit, swallowing nervously, when he leans back over you, slamming his thick cock so deep so soon, it shocks you, making you scream out, as he moans in pleasure, damn near a quiet growl. “Fill you up every day.”

“Satoru…”

“Every minute, every hour. Fuck you in every room in that goddamn hospital.” You’re unable to speak when he pulls back, watching his bulge in your tummy move with every agonizingly long stroke, jerking those hips just so. “Every corridor, I’ll drink you up in every elevator.

“Insane, f-fuck!” He laughs a bit, the drug has clearly entered his blood stream, you see it on his face, unleashing whatever bits he’s apparently been holding back from you.

“Am I insane? Or are you, for lying under me sweetheart?” Your lips part, but you can’t form a word, instead just another cry as he fucks you harder into his soft, dense matress, the blankets and sheets crumbling beneath you, your hands gripping harder and harder.  “Answer me.”

“You’re the c-crazy one.” He laughs even as he shoves his cock so deep you scream, drooling tip smashing a cervix already hurt from him pummeling it just minutes ago. “Insane fucking man.”

“You love it though.” You won’t answer, not this insane man with far too much in his bloodstream, the man ruining you over and over, breaking you apart with his strokes to put you back together with his kisses.

“Think I love it?” Your whisper is against his lips now, he leans over you, soft white locks falling over his brow, as he studies your face so carefully.

“I fucking love you.”

What.

Huh.

What!?

You’re blinking in confusion, wondering if he’s finally fucked you actually stupid and not just theoretically. You can’t even answer, when he pulls back once more, slamming his cock and bottoming out, stuffing you so full you can’t stop your scream, hoarse and then weak. He cups your face with one hand, sighing as he shakes his head over you.

“I do love you. It’s why I can’t ever let you go.” You’re too stunned and confused to find any sort of word, any protest. “You don’t have to say it back, just you need to fucking know.”

You’re cumming once more, and he’s pulled with you, groaning and busting deep inside you, his words disorienting right along with his cock filling you up so much you feel it everywhere. Satoru’s in your cunt, your stomach, your goddamn head, and your fucking heart.

He’s everywhere.

*****

The next morning, you yawn, stretching in Satoru’s luxurious bed, reaching to find the rumpled sheets are cool. You sit up now, hearing the front door click, standing on the plush rug and stepping out of his room now. He smiles as he walks inside, and you lean on the doorway for a moment, seeing two cups in his hands.

“Morning, sweets. You finally have joined the living.” You giggle a bit, stepping closer now.

“You kind of zonked me.”

“Must be the xanax on your pussy.”

“Satoru!” He’s just grinning now, setting down your cups and pulling a multicolored pill case out of his jacket.

“What, it’s probably a hell of a high.”

You watch him, methodically taking each med, smiling at you as he hands you your coffee, and something breaks your heart then, that he thinks he needs just that much. Seeing your hesitation, he frowns a bit, swallowing them up with a sugary concoction, a little foam on his lip that you gently swipe away, studying the man illuminated by the sun filtering in through his floor to ceiling blinds.

“What is it?” His question is soft, curious, you look down at the cup, shaking your head a bit.

“Nothing.”

“Tch, one thing you suck at, is lying.” He sips his drink again, stepping closer, eyeing your sexy body in his dress shirt, so long on you it’s precious, the sleeves rolled up several times, he sees the outline of your body as the sun showcases it, making him ache again.

God he can’t get enough of you.

“I just wish you didn’t need so much. I’m not judging you, I promise. I’m not… trying to ‘fix you’ you’re a grown man. But it hurts to see.” Satoru falters then, as if it’s not what he expected, coming even closer until his hand presses on your waist, gently but firmly, burning through the thin layer of his white dress shirt.

“Last night is the last time I’ll snort them, okay? I will respect what you asked. But you… don’t believe me.”

“No, no, I do. It’s just… so many. On an empty tummy?”

“Need to feed me then hmm.” He’s trying to make light of it, push it off, but you have trouble letting that go, and he sees it then. “Wanna know why I’m on each one?”

“Do you want to tell me?” He nods now, pulling out one of his black kitchen stools at the bar.

“Sit.” You do just that, and he sits next to you, legs wide, setting his cup down on the pretty granite counter that damn near shimmers it’s so clean, shit all of Satoru’s house is spotless.

You suppose you get why he wouldn’t want kids, or even pets it seems, everything has its order, its place.

“I was once a lowly intern like you.”

“Lowly!” You shove at him playfully, he chuckles a bit, but the laugh doesn’t quite meet those eyes, snowy long lashes lowering while his fingers brush on your bare thigh, leaving intricate networks of goosebumps in their wake.

“I was one and not as good as you, shit not close. You’re remarkable, you know.” You pause at that, cheeks heating up at his praise, when he’s so close, too close, intense eyes boring into you. “It’s one of the reasons I fucking love you.”

“You shouldn’t say that…”

“No? Why?”

“Because you don’t really mean it…”

“Oh, honey,” he rests his forehead on yours as he takes a breath, hand gripping your thigh so tightly, while you start to lose focus. “I mean it.”

“I’m scared shitless, Satoru.”

“I know.” He kisses your forehead then, smiling just a little sadly. “I was not as bold then, not like you, not even close. I was scared to fuck up, so much pressure with my family, and already I was with Hime.”

“Oh I imagine a lot of pressure.” Your soft voice comes, as you put your head on his shoulder, hugging his strong arm over his coat, letting him speak as you try to reign in your own emotions.

“It was. But with her as well, we were at a constant war, a back and forth to piss each other off. Shit she would bring people home, so would I, and at a point I got so depressed, that we were stuck together- also pressured to have kids. Archaic fucking mentality.”

“Yeah… I see.” You can’t look at him not when he brings it up, you don’t even want to think of it right now, the fact that you probably won’t get that if you stay with Satoru.

And you can’t imagine a world where you don’t always love him.

“So I was very tired after we had a thirty six, remember your first?”

“Oh god yes.”

“And I… missed something. I was so tired, I…” His voice breaks, and you pause, looking up at him now, hating the sorrow on his perfect features. “I fucked up, and someone died, because of me.”

“Satoru, no-”

“Yes. Yes they did.” He’s so tense he’s shaking now, shutting his eyes and shaking his head.

“We all make mistakes, we’re just human-”

“No, I needed to be perfect. Top of my class, top of every interns, fuck I have always been the best at everything. And then, the guy was dead because I was sleeping.”

“You cannot blame yourself!”

“I do. That’s when I decided I needed to make sure I wasn’t tired, and then I tried a few different meds, but adderall? Fucking perfect. Literal speed and pure focus.” He speaks of the medication like it’s a lover, soft in his caressing voice about it, smiling just a bit. “Then however, I was so hyped up, I couldn’t come down at night.”

“So… Ambien.” He nods.

“Ambien, knocks me the fuck out. But during the day, I was still under so much stress, living with the one mistake I made, and knowing I could never do it again, also the stress of the marriage. It was overwhelming, that was when I realized I needed a good anxiety med.”

“Xanax.” Your soft voice is met with his nod.

“Best anti anxiety there is, but it is strong, I found it worked best with Klonopin, a mix of the two? Couldn’t care less about shit in the world, and my mind is so fucking crystal clear. And that, intern, is how I became the top doctor there is, and how I’m about to be the top surgeon, and run the hospital.”

You blink a few times now. “You are?”

“Yeah I haven’t told anyone yet, but you should know.” He cups your face so gently, kissing your lips, tasting like the frappuccino, pure sugar as his lips dance across yours. “You’re brilliant, caring, fuck you’re gonna be such a perfect doctor, I can already see it.”

“Thank you, Satoru.” You kiss him back, gently, sighing as you sit in his embrace, in his quiet kitchen.

“I could get over the… living together. If you wanted one day.”

You blink at him then, shock, confusion and… of course happiness, making you gasp. “What?”

“You’ve seen it, and still choose to deal with me. Why, I don’t know… but I want to be open to it for you. I can’t… I never want kids, or marriage, but I could try to live with you.”

“Ah.” You pull back, and he swallows then, feeling how tense you are. “What if it happened by accident?”

“Pregnancy?”

“Yes.”

“Abortion.”

Your eyes go wide, mouth dropping. “What!?”

“It’s the simplest solution, but if you wanted to go off birth control, I could just get a vasectomy. It’d never come to that.” You can’t explain the devastation his words bring, and he notices your demeanor shift, cursing. “I need to work on how I say things, shit.”

“I would never get one.”

“What?” His shock is evident. “What do you mean never?”

“Never. Personally. I’m for them of course, we help perform them, and I’ll always respect a woman’s right to choose that. But I would never.”

“I see.” He looks away for a moment, then sighs. “I’ll get one, so shit never comes to that.”

“Satoru, that’s permanent damn near? What if you want kids later-”

“I never will.”

“With someone else!?”

“It’s only you. I only want you.” He’s kissing you now, dragging you against him, the stool itself screeching along the titles, breathless as he stares up at you. “I will never share you, with anyone or anything, I just want you. I can give you all that I fucking am, everything I have, anything.”

“I just… mmm…” He’s desperate in his kisses again, hands slipping up your thighs, and you feel the mix of arousal and terror growing in your heart.

“I love you.”

“Don’t say it if-”

“I do. I love you, only you. Fuck more than any drug, I’d inject you so goddamn deep baby.” You’re gasping out when he’s standing picking you up like you’re nothing, mouth devouring yours, kissing any sense away you had left. “I’ll make you so fucking happy all the time, you could walk all over me and I’d thank you.”

“Satoru!”

“Use me. Any way you need.” He’s got you laid out on his kitchen table now, exhaling as he sees your glistening cunt, eagerly unbuckling his jeans as he slips a finger between your slit. “Love your body, fuck.”

You’re crying out when he has his cock out so quickly you don’t process it, as he leans over you, still half dressed, you grip his jacket, legs trembling on either side while he runs his tip along your folds. He kisses you when he presses in, and you’re so tight he can barely get that thick, mushroomed tip in, you cry out against his lips as he groans.

“Perfect, tight little cunt, fuck.” He’s pulling back, shoving deeper, as deep as she could take him, and your eyes roll back in pleasure at the burn, the impossible stretch, while he kisses down your breasts, lapping a nipple over his own dress shirt.

“Oh my god.” You’re trembling when he pulls out again, going deeper, deeper inside your snug walls, which pulse and drool around the invasion, as he kisses his way back up your neck.

“I love you. Only you. God, just you.” Satoru kisses your worries away, and it’s not a good thing, it’s a horrible thing, because how the fuck can you even think of anything of your future when you can’t think. “I want you here, every fucking day.”

“Shh.” You kiss him now, desperate and hungry, hips arching off the cool wood to take more of him, he groans as he sinks deeper, and suddenly your phones are both going off, and you all know.

“Goddammit.” He groans out, kissing you again. “Getting called in.”

“We should…”

“No, you’re cumming first.” You gasp when Satoru yanks you down, turning you and pressing you against the table. “Arch that pretty ass, intern.”

You do just that, and Satoru’s yanking on that dress shirt, using it as leverage to fuck into you as your legs just dangle there off the floor, and you scream out your pleasure, earning his satisfied moan. His strokes are mean, brutal, but you want them - no - you fucking need them, need Satoru to fuck all the problems out of your goddamn head.

And fuck does he.

“L-love you…” He pauses now, cock throbbing inside you, leaning over and tilting your face to his, eyes glimmering, black again - from you or the cocktail of pills, you don’t know - so intense you can’t breathe.

“How could you love someone like me?” His broken voice makes you shake with sobs, you shake your head now, as your phones go off again.

“I do love you, Satoru. I do.” He whines out as you’re clenching him so fucking tight, kissing you desperately, a hand under your chin.

“God, those words, fuck. I’m dreaming.” He buries his face against your neck, slamming in so hard you both whimper, the arm that’s wrapped slides down, finding your pretty little clit that he loves to toy with, feeling you shaking in his grip, tightening down like a vise. “That’s it, cum f’me baby, you can do it.”

You fall apart in his embrace, lost in his pleasure, in his obsession, knowing this is a horrible idea, knowing this is a horrible person to fall for. Knowing you’re going to fucking lose yourself, but you eagerly give it all to him, to Satoru Gojo, who’s got you drooling, swiping it off as the wet noises of your slutty cunt mix with his filthy string of cuss words and tender declarations.

You’re in so deep you may never climb out.

*****

One Week Later

“Hey pretty doctor.” You smile at Choso later that afternoon, so excited for him now that you got the news.

“Hello Choso, you’re gonna love me.”

“I already do!”

“Mhmm.” You’re giggling as you shut the door, coming up to put a hand over his, and watching his heart rate jump. “Relax.”

“You’re too pretty, I'm sorry.” He’s pouting far too cutely, as you sit on the edge of the bed now.

“We just got the call, there’s a heart at another hospital.” His violet eyes light up, then dim, lashes lowering. “This is good, Choso, it is.”

“What if it doesn’t…”

“It will work. I know it. You’ll have the best surgeon-”

“And you?” You smile now, nodding at him, seeing his exhale of relief. “You’re gonna see all of me huh?”

“All your insides.” You both laugh, your hand still on his, he turns his own, thumb bruising your knuckles, making you just a bit flushed.

Your heart is stolen by a selfish doctor, but Choso is probably the sweetest human you’ve met, and you’ll be damned if anything happens to him. He’d chosen not to do the device yet, and to his benefit, because now he wouldn’t be weakened by a previous surgery.

“You’d make the best mom you know.” It’s so random you blink a bit, and he sighs, shaking his dark head. “That’s weird to say, you just have a nurturing instinct, you remind me of how my mom was.”

“Oh, was she amazing, hmm?” You try to play it off, and he nods now, as you stuff all your fucking feelings down.

This week has been amazing with Satoru, he's stayed at your place one night, you at his the other, you perform surgeries better and better as a team, he’s thoughtful, perfect, everything. He’s more considerate of things and what he says, he’s not seeming like he’s over using the prescriptions, you cannot complain one bit about Satoru and how much he’s trying.

But the elephant in the room is just what Choso casually said.

You’re giving it up forever.

“She was amazing, and I try to be that way with my little brother.”

“Oh, Yuuji, I’ve met him a few times now, he’s so sweet!”

“He is a good kid. I helped raise him with dad… gone.” You frown now, nodding and understanding.

“Mine is gone too. I appreciate you saying that Choso, it’s nice to know someone thinks I would be.” Hearing the pain in your voice suddenly, his thumb pauses its strokes.

“Who wouldn’t think that? Do you think you’re too busy for a kid or…”

“No. Not that, um.”

You suddenly feel it, the emotions hitting, you’ve been crying a lot for no good reason the past few days, hearing Choso was getting a heart was a bright spot, along with Satoru’s presence. But that’s always tinged with uncertainty, with pain, so very bittersweet in its beauty.

“It’s personal. I talk too much to you, I’m sure I-”

“Stop it, I love talking to you.” You lean forward, pressing a kiss on his cheek then, which blushes right away, bright pink. “You’re fast becoming a very good friend to me. I was so excited to tell you.”

“I’m glad you did. I didn’t know if… it would happen.” He smiles as you pull back, brushing your hair back just a bit. “You really are my angel.”

“Am not!” You’re giggling when the door opens, and Satoru sees the two of you, jaw tensing as he does. He knows you’ve gotten close, and Choso is so happy when you’re around everyone has let you focus on him lately.

But it smacks him in the fucking chest.

He wants to rip you off of him then, you’re his and only his, and he can’t stand for people looking at you let alone touching you. You peer back and smile at him, so pretty of course Choso is falling, clear as fucking day. He knows it’s not on your end, he knows he has you cumming on his cock every day, multiple times a day, but still something is infuriating him in that moment he can’t describe.

“Tell him the good news?” He smiles, putting on a mask like he doesn’t wanna pull your hair and drag you to him, like he doesn’t wanna fuck you until you can’t even look at anyone.

He knows it’s bullshit, but it doesn’t mean it doesn’t run through his goddamn head.

“She did, I’m really excited. You’re the best, right Doc?”

“I am indeed.” Satoru comes up now, tensing as he sees you’re holding hands, and you pull back then, clearing your throat a bit. Satoru sees tears in your eyes. “Everything okay?”

“I told her she’d be a good mom. I think it was extra.”

“No, it was sweet.” You grin now, eyes glimmering, and Satoru feels it like a punch to the gut.

What if he would give you kids, would you fucking leave Satoru over it?

It’s not like he ever can. He knows he’s too selfish to love another person, and too obsessed with you as it was. He couldn’t have a whole child around, and he doubts he’d be any good. Hard to take your kid to practice when you live at work, and are constantly on things to not feel - or to feel.

But this week has been so fucking beautiful, by your side, inside you, on top of you, behind you. Finally confessing his love, and you returning it, why would you not want to keep it? Did he need to do more, to make you happier, so he could make sure you’d stay?

He can’t live without you.

The thought rips him to shreds.

“Ah. Well you need rest, we’re going to get that heart today.” Satoru gently helps you off the bed, and when you all walk out, he grabs your wrist, leaning down. “He’s getting awfully comfy with you.”

“He needs to be happy and strong for this. I’ll help him however I can.” You ease your wrist from his grip, raising your brows at him. “You’re the only person for me, I just care for him.”

“Rationally I know that,” he leans down now, a hand on your hip, pulling you close. “Irrationally, I wanna fuck every thought of him out of your pretty head.”

“Satoru…” He sighs, pulling back now, leaving you trembling in your goddamn scrubs in the middle of the hospital.

“What he said…”

“It was true.” You leave him to ponder it, turning away now. “I’ll see you in an hour to get the heart.”

“Yeah… okay.” You’re walking away too quickly, swiping at your tears as you go, leaving Satoru to curse under his breath.

How can he keep you if he’s not sure he’s worthy?

You rush away from him, trying to compose yourself, until you’re in the locker room, looking at your reflection in the mirror.

You’re happy, right?

This story is slow on updates but I do appreciate Dr. Gojo's 11 fans VERY much hehe. I hope you all enjoyed the toxic fuck fest- let's get Choso a damn heart!! (dw he'll be fine <3) and their drama isn't close to being done.

@lostfracturess @unfortunately-tia @allofffmypeaches @makingtimemine @antisocialinlw @meg3mis @zoeyflower @wstaley2 @bunheadusa @blue-musingss @ameliariddle @labelt-san @jkslaugh97 @shadeowz @gojo1228 @jaeminaur @httpstoyosi @angel1of-death @seeing-stars-alt @bol0-de-morang0 @ghostskilledmyaddiction21 @trishiepo0 @inthedarkshadows000 @gina239 @san-it-is-i-guess @pelicanpizza @gojo1228 @ducky1232 @inthedarkshadows000 @eclecticmentalitypersona @burguhndy @levislug @addehehe @sluttyofgojo @msniks @xixflower @ambiguouslady42 @kiaraandrea @jjknanamin @suguruscousin @silverfangmarks @atiny-99 @thatssoambs @kanekisheart @mahalsuya @kimkimoruo @hoelynecujoh @abiiebibie @procastinatingbitch

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Wounds

Wound

Occurs when the integrity of any tissue is compromised (e.g. skin breaks, muscle tears, burns, or bone fractures).

May be caused by an act, such as a gunshot, fall, or surgical procedure; by an infectious disease; or by an underlying condition.

8 Categories of Acute Wounds

Generally used by emergency personnel & first aid workers.

Abrasions. Also called scrapes, they occur when the skin is rubbed away by friction against another rough surface (e.g. rope burns and skinned knees).

Avulsions. These occur when an entire structure or part of it is forcibly pulled away, such as the loss of a permanent tooth or an ear lobe. Explosions, gunshots, and animal bites may cause avulsions.

Contusions. Also called bruises, these are the result of a forceful trauma that injures an internal structure without breaking the skin. Blows to the chest, abdomen, or head with a blunt instrument (e.g., a football or a fist) can cause contusions.

Crush wounds. Occur when a heavy object falls onto a person, splitting the skin and shattering or tearing underlying structures.

Cuts. Slicing wounds made with a sharp instrument, leaving even edges. They may be as minimal as a paper cut or as significant as a surgical incision.

Lacerations. Also called tears, these are separating wounds that produce ragged edges. They are produced by a tremendous force against the body, either from an internal source as in childbirth, or from an external source like a punch.

Missile wounds. Also called velocity wounds, they are caused by an object entering the body at a high speed, typically a bullet.

Punctures. These are deep, narrow wounds produced by sharp objects such as nails, knives, and broken glass.

Symptoms of a Wound

Include localized pain and bleeding.

Specific symptoms:

 An abrasion usually appears as lines of scraped skin with tiny spots of bleeding.

 An avulsion has heavy, rapid bleeding and a noticeable absence of tissue.

 A contusion may appear as a bruise beneath the skin or may appear only on imaging tests. An internal wound may also generate symptoms such as weakness, perspiration, and pain.

A crush wound may have irregular margins like a laceration; however, the wound will be deeper and trauma to muscle and bone may be apparent.

A cut may have little or profuse bleeding depending on its depth and length; its even edges readily line up.

A laceration may have little or profuse bleeding. The tissue damage is generally greater and the wound’s ragged edges do not readily line up.

A missile entry wound may be accompanied by an exit wound, and bleeding may be profuse, depending on the nature of the injury.

A puncture wound will be greater in depth than in its length, therefore there is usually little bleeding around the outside of the wound and more bleeding inside, causing discoloration.

Some Terminology

Butterfly bandage—Narrow strip of adhesive with wider flaring ends (shaped like butterfly wings) used to hold the edges of a wound together as it heals.

Plasma—The straw-colored fluid component of blood, without blood cells.

Tourniquet—A device used to control bleeding, consisting of a constricting band applied tightly around a limb above the wound. It should only be used if the bleeding in life-threatening and cannot be controlled by other means.

Traumatic shock—A condition of depressed body functions as a reaction to injury with loss of body fluids or lack of oxygen. Signs of traumatic shock include weak and rapid pulse; shallow and rapid breathing; and pale, cool, clammy skin.

Whole blood—Blood that contains red blood cells, white blood cells, and platelets in plasma.

Source ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs More: Writing Realistic Injuries ⚜ On Anatomy ⚜ Poison ⚜ Fight Scenes Part 1 2

[hyuny-bunny]

seasons // series

summary: your bestfriend minho just wants you to see how desperately in love he is with you

warnings: fmc, use of she/her/hers, speculum, obgyn procedures, cussing, mentions of knotting and heat, omegaverse au

part ii here

There was something so uncomfortable about being in an OBGYN’s exam room. Maybe it was the sterile and cold feelings of the rooms or the stirrups that resembled some sort of fucked up medieval torture device. Don’t even get started on the cold metal of a speculum, how far medicine has come, and yet there was no technological evolution that had been made yet that would make the entire experience of a vaginal exam any easier. Sitting up straight in the exam chair and waiting for the doctor to come back was nerve-racking, the small voice in your head that was screaming at you that you were perfectly fine was being drowned by the humming of the doctors' office and fluorescent lights above your head. When your doctor finally walked in with the manilla folder that held your results, you let out a small sigh you didn't realize you had been holding. She sits in front of you on a stool, blue jeans accompanied by a blue stripped shirt and her lab coat. She was fairly young for a doctor, but it brought comfort and reassurance when you first became her patient. Her glasses were pushed back on her face, tortoise shell frames complimented her eyes and brunette hair.

“Well your results looked good, you tested negative for any sexual transmitted disease or viruses. You’re the picture perfect ideal for someone your age but I do have one concern with your results.”

Well fuck.

“You said your last heat cycle was about a week ago but your pheromones are too high for my comfort. Are you spending these heat cycles with an alpha or anyone at all?”

You tense at the question knowing that the answer you’ll give will be less than satisfactory.

“No, I’m not mated and I’m not seeing anyone… I’ve…” You pause as she gives a sympathetic look of encouragement to finish the sentence. “I have been with anyone in the last year and a half so I’ve been spending my heat cycles alone or… taking heat suppresents.”

You can see the gears turning, if she was shocked or appalled by the idea of you taking heat suppressants at your ripe age of 23, she didn't show it. She clears her throat as she begins to speak.

“While there is nothing innately wrong with ‘heat suppresents’ it does present an issue that someone at your age who has been sexually active in the past is trying to suppress those cycles. For young teen girls at 16 to 19, it's perfectly okay, their bodies can handle the postponement until they choose to become active. For someone like you, it's like to trying to put the lid on a boiling pot of water thinking it’ll bring down the heat but it will only make things hotter to the point that it overflows.” She pauses to check that you’re following along. “That’s what they do to your pheromones, your body will eventually become resistant to the suppressants and cause your body to go in overdrive to compensate for what it's missing.”

You knew this was a possibility but being smacked in the face by the reality of it made all that more unfortunate.

“So what do I do?” She takes a moment to let out a sigh she had been holding as well.

“Find someone to spend these heat cycles with. Neglecting your body of the one thing it needs naturally will only create more problems down the road.”

Getting fucked was one thing but getting knotted because your body needed it was an entirely different thing. You cant help the groan that escapes you.

“By no means am I telling you to go find the one person who you will mate with for the rest of your life, but at the very least find someone who can offer you support during these cycles. I’ve heard wonderful things from other patients about these apps-”

“I’ve tried those alpha finder apps… I won’t give the nitty-gritty details but my experience was the most unfortunate of them.” 

She tenses her eyebrows.

“For the next 6 months, find someone to spend your heat’s with and let your body detox the suppressants. If in 6 months, you haven't found a healthy solution, we will come up with a new plan. Okay?”

You can’t help the look of despair and defeat on your face but you give in reluctantly.

“Okay.”

“Good, I’ll send in a nurse to give you your birth control shot before you leave and set up the next check-up.”

“Thank you, Doctor Kim.” She gives you a soft smile before the nurse comes in to give you your shot.

It had been about 2 years since you dumped your ex and over a year with no sex. With the gravity of your situation looming over your head, you call your closest confidant and friend, Felix.

“Hello?”

“I’m gonna fling myself down a set of stairs” He chuckles at your response.

“So what happened?”

“In short, my doctor said I needed to get knotted and share my heat cyclces with someone. Had to resist the urge to go on a rant about how every alpha I know is misogynistic shit that only cares about getting a knot in with no regard for the omega they’re with. She even so much as suggested those omega seeker apps…”

“Oh don’t be so pouty, you know those heat suppressants were bound to catch up eventually.” He was right, he had said it from the start and ever since.

“What am I gonna do?” You ask almost a bit pathetically.

“Why don’t you ask Minho hyung?” 

“Why would I ask him when I’m talking you?’ You ask in genuine confusion but you can hear Felix role his eyes.

“Because he’s an alpha dummy. I’m sure if you asked he would help you.”

“I can’t ask him!”

Minho was your childhood friend and childhood crush. You two were next-door neighbors, spending every moment together, almost to the point that most people thought you were dating. It was a natural assumption for as much time as you spent together. It was a shock the day you learned he had presented as an alpha as much of his family and you had assumed he would present as a beta given his family’s long-standing streak of male betas. He stepped into the role with ease, he had gotten stronger in build and grew into his features, something about his eyes remained boyish in an endearing way that made your heart flutter every time. Much of his family and your own thought the two of you would end up together after you had presented as an omega, what a shock it was to them when had brought his first girlfriend home that wasn’t you. Much like you, he didn’t have the greatest track history in dating, he had only had two girlfriends that were semi-serious. 

“Why not? For as long as you two have been friends, I’d think you’d be comfortable enough to ask him..” 

“I can’t ask him… besides I’m pretty sure he has an omega side piece that he spends his ruts with so I’m sure he’s got that going for himself already.” It didn’t bother you but a part of you held a sliver of jealousy for whoever that omega might be.

“I can poke around and find out if you want?”

“No… It’s alright.” Felix was the only person who knew how much you pined over Minho.

“Suit yourself. You know, come to think of it, theres a club not too far from campus that does Omega Night, might be good stomping grounds for you to start?”

“Sounds like a nightmare… You think Han will come?” 

“Already asking” He says a little too proud of himself.

“You're the best Lix.” 

“I know! Talk to you soon.”

He hangs up the phone as you wait in the lobby of the doctor’s office as you wait for Minho to pick you up. He comes into the clinic to make sure you're okay and walk you to his car, you can’t help clenching your teeth seeing the girls inside fawn over him as he walks you out.

“How did it go?”

“Good… Mostly.” He you to the passenger side as he cocks an eyebrow at your response.

“What does that mean?” You sigh as he asks the question.

“In short my doctor said I need to find someone to spend my heat cycles with.”

There was a small pause before his head whipped around, something in his eyes you couldn’t quite detect. 

“As in..?’ “As in she wants me to get knotted.”

“Oh… So what's the plan?” His response was only slightly fazed and maybe it was the suddenness of the answer to his question or maybe it was the fact that his mind ran wild at the idea of you finally looking to him to be the one to help you through your heats.

“I’m not sure, it's not like I have an assortment of alpha’s on speed dial to help me but Felix suggested that maybe I try seeing whats out there for me, we’re supposed to go out Saturday night for ‘Omega Night’. I despise the idea but I’m running out of options.”

He pauses for a moment thinking about the possibility of you going home with another alpha, someone who was just looking for a quick fuck with no regard to your aftercare or even caring about your overall well-being. “Just you and Felix?” His hand grips the steering wheel tighter as he tries to hold himself back from shouting ‘PICK ME! CHOOSE ME!’ until you finally got the hint that he would do anything to be the one to care for you the way you deserved if you gave him the chance. 

“No Han is coming to, we might convince Changbin to play pretend body guard if needed.”

Just ask me

“Do you want me to go? I’ve heard some horror stories of pushy alphas at those clubs.”

While true that he has heard these stories, its mostly been told to him by classmates sharing their wild times.

“No it’s okay. I know you don’t really care for the whole club scene anyways.”

But I care about you god damn it.

He lets out a small huff and hum, finally pulling up to your apartment complex. It was one of the nicer ones around the University neighborhood. He parks the car getting off to open your door.

“Do you want to come up? We can hang out for a bit.” You ask him looking at him with those sweet eyes, he shouldn’t.

“No, I got some errands to run but I’ll call you tonight. Get some rest you look a little tired.”

He pushes back a strand of hair from your face tucking it behind your ear, it never fails to make your heart flutter. He’d done it so often it shouldn’t have phased you but it did.

“Oh yeah, um, call me later then,” His hand smooths your cheek as he pulls away reluctantly, and you turn to make your way toward your apartment. It took every bit of self-restraint from him to not call after you, to not walk you up to your place, to not take you up the stairs, toss you down, and spend hours making you scream his name.

He calls Changbin as he pulls away from your place.

“Changbin,”

“What’s up?”

“Felix and Y/N are gonna call you to ask if you’ll go out with them tomorrow night and I need you to go.”

“What? Why don’t you go?”

“She didn’t ask me, but I need you to go and make sure she doesn’t go home with anyone let alone some fucking asshole that wants a quick knot.”

part ii

[chronicbitchsyndrome]

speaking of professional dx, i think it's important to recognize that professionally dx'd disabled people are at a severe legal disadvantage compared to disabled people who purely self-id; one of the reasons i'm so intensely pro-self-dx and actively advocate for people to self-dx over professional dxing is because professional diagnosis comes with a cavalcade of systemic oppression and violence from the state, no matter what country you're in.

some things that professional diagnosis of a disability might do, depending on what disability and which country you live in:

bar you from adopting children

get your preexisting children removed from your care

bar you from immigration to most countries

open you up to conservatorship or other form of legal guardianship past the age of majority by your parents or other adults who care for your medical needs, without regard for your consent

remove your ability to consent to medical procedures or withhold consent for medical procedures

bar you from accessing gender care (if trans)

obviously, there's plenty of resources that are artificially gatekept behind professional diagnosis, like mobility aids that are only affordable through insurance, prescription medication, testing like blood tests and MRIs, AAC devices, and more. but i think it's important to remember that those of us who need these things aren't necessarily privileged by our professional diagnoses, insomuch as we're forced into a situation where we have to subject ourselves to endless state violence via professional diagnosis in order to have access to those necessary resources.

i think it's particularly important for those of us professionally diagnosed to remember that. there's a tendency in some circles to treat professional diagnosis like it makes us better or more "legitimately disabled" than self-id disabled folks; this isn't true and it's important to remember that we shouldn't feel the need to define ourselves by a thing that actively harms us. plus, just because someone doesn't have a professional diagnosis doesn't mean they don't need the resources that are kept behind it; often it means they can't afford to weather the state violence that comes with the dx, and so instead they have to suffer without medication or aids or testing and have a significantly worse and shorter life because of this. just because they have legal privilege over you doesn't mean they necessarily have social privilege over you or quality-of-life privilege.

[facts-i-just-made-up]

Why do they call getting drunk getting hammered? And what then is the nail?

So the answer to the second half is "a human arm," and the first half is all about two friends named Mr. Li and Mr. Bell.

Li and Bell were Phi Sigma frat boys at USC, Li studied medicine and Bell studied engineering. Several at the frat made fun of their close friendship as they literally wanted to be a brain surgeon and rocket scientist, so the name “Brain Bros” caught on.

One day, Li learned about a theoretical (at the time) device called a “hypospray” (now called a jet injector) that gave inoculations not with a needle, but with the jet force of a spray that pushed the substance through the skin. It had been featured on the then-recent original Star Trek series (as TV censors back then didn’t want hypodermic needles on screen) in a sci-fi perfected way, and had been used in some rare and often accidental procedures but for the most part, the device was still just an idea. One that perhaps a medical student and engineering student could develop for their final theses.

Their scientific method was a bit underdeveloped at the time, partly due to their activities at frat parties. Instead of proper research, they began by seeing how much force was needed to push a substance through human skin in such a way that it would be absorbed by the body as efficiently as a common vaccine. They began not in a lab with a rat, but at Phi Sigma with Rudy “The Rude Man” Jansenson. They had some compressed air from a balloon-filled party and some peach schnapps. They put the latter in a tube against Rudy’s arm and let the system push it onto his skin. On, but not in. The PSI needed to give him the dose through his skin (over 2000) was simply not possible from that makeshift rig.

Mr. Li calculated the actual permeability for human skin the next day instead of going to class, and Mr. Bell found the simplest mechanism to apply that force instead of meeting with his academic probation supervisor. The answer, as you may have guessed from the original question, was the common hammer.

At the next frat kegger, Li and Bell debuted their first prototype for a functional hypospray, which was to pour Everclear on the subject and hit them with a hammer that Mr. Bell had stolen from the gardener’s shed. As this was a keg party at a frat, the idea was unanimously welcomed and the first hammering of college boys began.

Details from Li and Bell’s college expulsion hearing contained their records and results- Of the 50 students participating, all 50 had extensive bruising, 43 had broken bones, 33 held blood alcohol levels beyond safe limits, and 0 could be stated with certainty to have absorbed any alcohol through the experiment—because all 50 were already drunk, hence why they let the students hit them with a hammer to get drunker. So it came to be that “getting hammered” means getting more drunk than reasonable.

Li and Bell’s fates are not known with any certainty beyond their departure from college, but rumors abound. Most claim that they began to hang out with Timothy Leary, Jack Parsons, and Hunter S. Thompson. A friend of the first stated that he, Li, and Bell had experimented with “percussive application” of LSD and mescaline, along with trepanation to more directly hammer the psychedelics into the human brain. The only other possible record of the two comes from a concert in Boulder, CO in 2002 at which the band “Tool” performed.

It states that Bell and Li were seen hitting each other on the head with hammers during a performance of the trilogy of songs “Disposition / Reflection / Triad.” Their fate beyond this moment is unknown, though two men of their ages were checked in the same night for severe head injuries and extreme intoxication at the Boulder county morgue. RIP we presume to the Brain Bros, pioneers of getting fucked up in college and beyond.

FIJMU does not in any way endorse irresponsible drug use, hitting yourself with a hammer, or the band “Tool.”

[mostlysignssomeportents]

How Google’s trial secrecy lets it control the coverage

I'm coming to Minneapolis! Oct 15: Presenting The Internet Con at Moon Palace Books. Oct 16: Keynoting the 26th ACM Conference On Computer-Supported Cooperative Work and Social Computing.

"Corporate crime" is practically an oxymoron in America. While it's true that the single most consequential and profligate theft in America is wage theft, its mechanisms are so obscure and, well, dull that it's easy to sell us on the false impression that the real problem is shoplifting:

https://newrepublic.com/post/175343/wage-theft-versus-shoplifting-crime

Corporate crime is often hidden behind Dana Clare's Shield Of Boringness, cloaked in euphemisms like "risk and compliance" or that old favorite, "white collar crime":

https://pluralistic.net/2021/12/07/solar-panel-for-a-sex-machine/#a-single-proposition

And corporate crime has a kind of performative complexity. The crimes come to us wreathed in specialized jargon and technical terminology that make them hard to discern. Which is wild, because corporate crimes occur on a scale that other crimes – even those committed by organized crime – can't hope to match:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/10/12/no-criminals-no-crimes/#get-out-of-jail-free-card

But anything that can't go on forever eventually stops. After decades of official tolerance (and even encouragement), corporate criminals are finally in the crosshairs of federal enforcers. Take National Labor Relations Board general counsel Jennifer Abruzzo's ruling in Cemex: when a company takes an illegal action to affect the outcome of a union election, the consequence is now automatic recognition of the union:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/06/goons-ginks-and-company-finks/#if-blood-be-the-price-of-your-cursed-wealth

That's a huge deal. Before, a boss could fire union organizers and intimidate workers, scuttle the union election, and then, months or years later, pay a fine and some back-wages…and the union would be smashed.

The scale of corporate crime is directly proportional to the scale of corporations themselves. Big companies aren't (necessarily) led by worse people, but even small sins committed by the very largest companies can affect millions of lives.

That's why antitrust is so key to fighting corporate crime. To make corporate crimes less harmful, we must keep companies from attaining harmful scale. Big companies aren't just too big to fail and too big to jail – they're also too big for peaceful coexistence with a society of laws.

The revival of antitrust enforcement is such a breath of fresh air, but it's also fighting headwinds. For one thing, there's 40 years of bad precedent from the nightmare years of pro-monopoly Reaganomics to overturn:

https://pluralistic.net/ApexPredator

It's not just precedents in the outcomes of trials, either. Trial procedure has also been remade to favor corporations, with judges helping companies stack the deck in their own favor. The biggest factor here is secrecy: blocking recording devices from courts, refusing to livestream the proceedings, allowing accused corporate criminals to clear the courtroom when their executives take the stand, and redacting or suppressing the exhibits:

https://prospect.org/power/2023-09-27-redacted-case-against-amazon/

When a corporation can hide evidence and testimony from the public and the press, it gains broad latitude to dispute critics, including government enforcers, based on evidence that no one is allowed to see, or, in many cases, even describe. Take Project Nessie, the program that the FTC claims Amazon used to compel third-party sellers to hike prices across many categories of goods:

https://www.wsj.com/business/retail/amazon-used-secret-project-nessie-algorithm-to-raise-prices-6c593706

Amazon told the press that the FTC has "grossly mischaracterize[d]" Project Nessie. The DoJ disagrees, but it can't say why, because the Project Nessie files it based its accusations on have been redacted, at Amazon's insistence. Rather than rebutting Amazon's claim, FTC spokesman Douglas Farrar could only say "We once again call on Amazon to move swiftly to remove the redactions and allow the American public to see the full scope of what we allege are their illegal monopolistic practices."

It's quite a devastating gambit: when critics and prosecutors make specific allegations about corporate crimes, the corporation gets to tell journalists, "No, that's wrong, but you're not allowed to see the reason we say it's wrong."

It's a way to work the refs, to get journalists – or their editors – to wreathe bold claims in endless hedging language, or to avoid reporting on the most shocking allegations altogether. This, in turn, keeps corporate trials out of the public eye, which reassures judges that they can defer to further corporate demands for opacity without facing an outcry.

That's a tactic that serves Google well. When the company was dragged into court by the DoJ Antitrust Division, it demanded – and received – a veil of secrecy that is especially ironic given the company's promise "to organize the world's information and make it universally accessible and useful":

https://usvgoogle.org/trial-update-9-22

While this veil has parted somewhat, it is still intact enough to allow the company to work the refs and kill disfavorable reporting from the trial. Last week, Megan Gray – ex-FTC, ex-DuckDuckGo – published an editorial in Wired reporting on her impression of an explosive moment in the Google trial:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/03/not-feeling-lucky/#fundamental-laws-of-economics

According to Gray, Google had run a program to mess with the "semantic matching" on queries, silently appending terms to users' searches that caused them to return more ads – and worse results. This generated more revenue for Google, at the expense of advertisers who got billed to serve ads that didn't even match user queries.

Google forcefully disputed this claim:

https://twitter.com/searchliaison/status/1709726778170786297

They contacted Gray's editors at Wired, but declined to release all the exhibits and testimony that Gray used to form her conclusions about Google's conduct; instead, they provided a subset of the relevant materials, which cast doubt on Gray's accusations.

Wired removed Gray's piece, with an unsigned notice that "WIRED editorial leadership has determined that the story does not meet our editorial standards. It has been removed":

https://www.wired.com/story/google-antitrust-lawsuit-search-results/

But Gray stands by her piece. She admits that she might have gotten some of the fine details wrong, but that these were not material to the overall point of her story, that Google manipulated search queries to serve more ads at the expense of the quality of the results:

https://twitter.com/megangrA/status/1711035354134794529

She says that the piece could and should have been amended to reflect these fine-grained corrections, but that in the absence of a full record of the testimony and exhibits, it was impossible for her to prove to her editors that her piece was substantively correct.

I reviewed the limited evidence that Google permitted to be released and I find her defense compelling. Perhaps you don't. But the only way we can factually resolve this dispute is for Google to release the materials that they claim will exonerate them. And they won't, though this is fully within their power.

I've seen this playbook before. During the early months of the pandemic, a billionaire who owned a notorious cyberwarfare company used UK libel threats to erase this fact from the internet – including my own reporting – on the grounds that the underlying research made small, non-material errors in characterizing a hellishly complex financial Rube Goldberg machine that was, in my opinion, deliberately designed to confuse investigators.

Like the corporate crimes revealed in the Panama Papers and Paradise Papers, the gambit is complicated, but it's not sophisticated:

Make everything as complicated as possible;

Make everything as secret as possible;

Dismiss any accusations by claiming errors in the account of the deliberately complex arrangements, which can't be rectified because the relevant materials are a secret.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/09/working-the-refs/#but-id-have-to-kill-you

My next novel is The Lost Cause, a hopeful novel of the climate emergency. Amazon won't sell the audiobook, so I made my own and I'm pre-selling it on Kickstarter!

Image: Jason Rosenberg (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/underpants/12069086054/

CC BY https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

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Japanexperterna.se (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/japanexperterna/15251188384/

CC BY-SA 2.0: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/

[reasonsforhope]

"In a highly-anticipated world-first, the Texas Heart Institute has successfully implanted an artificial titanium heart that uses the same technology as bullet trains to pump blood mechanically throughout the body.

Called the Total Artificial Heart (TAH), the feat is seen as a major step in keeping people alive for longer and longer periods while they wait for heart transplants.

Texas Heart partnered with the medical tech company BiVACOR to create the TAH. It’s a titanium-constructed biventricular rotary blood pump with a single moving part that utilizes a magnetically levitated rotor that pumps the blood and replaces both ventricles of a failing heart.

The benefit of using magnetic levitation is that none of the moving parts ever scrape or slide against each other, reducing friction, and dramatically increasing the longevity of the device. But what’s really cool is the TAH can pump blood at a rate of 12 liters per minute, enough to allow an adult male to engage in exercise.

The first-in-human clinical study, overseen closely by the FDA, aims to evaluate the safety and performance of the BiVACOR TAH as a bridge-to-transplant solution for patients with severe bi or univentricular heart failure. Following this first implantation completed at Baylor St. Luke’s Medical Center in the Texas Medical Center, four additional patients are to be enrolled in the study.

“The Texas Heart Institute is enthused about the groundbreaking first implantation of BiVACOR’s TAH. With heart failure remaining a leading cause of mortality globally, the BiVACOR TAH offers a beacon of hope for countless patients awaiting a heart transplant,” said Dr. Joseph Rogers, President and Chief Executive Officer of The Texas Heart Institute and National Principal Investigator on the research.

“We are proud to be at the forefront of this medical breakthrough, working alongside the dedicated teams at BiVACOR, Baylor College of Medicine, and Baylor St. Luke’s Medical Center to transform the future of heart failure therapy for this vulnerable population.”

Heart failure is a global epidemic affecting at least 26 million people worldwide, 6.2 million adults in the US, and is increasing in prevalence. Heart transplantations are reserved for those with severe heart failure and are limited to fewer than 6,000 procedures per year globally. Consequently, the US National Institutes of Health estimated that up to 100,000 patients could immediately benefit from mechanical alternatives.

The successful implantation of BiVACOR’s TAH highlights the potential of innovative technologies to address critical challenges in cardiac care, such as long transplantation waitlists.

“This achievement would not have been possible without the courage of our first patient and their family, the dedication of our team, and our expert collaborators at The Texas Heart Institute,” said Daniel Timms, founder and CTO of BiVACOR."

-Article via Good News Network, August 1, 2024. Video via 7News Australia, July 26, 2024.