#maybe I miss them from from a prior lifetime

[theemeraldforestafterdark]

I can't actually do this without finding an exit and passing through said exit. The tiniest and broadest reminders nudge me into trigger territory. Which quickly become cumulative. And just plain tiring, too. This is supposed to be a crutch. To lean into, to feel better.

There was one time last autumn, where I'd had an relatively okay day and I just came online, and it felt effortless. How crazy, that it was just one day. Saying that though, I went on three trips last year and the week after each one, it felt so effortless being here too. Just riding on the coattails of being an actual person and breathing at my own pace. I know exactly what's wrong, and I can't fix it for the life of me.

[officialnostradamus]

“Bellara, my dear girl, whatever is the matter?” Emmrich asks, standing from his desk. Rook is still leaning against his desk, unconcerned to have been caught in a little flirtation. They are there for professional reasons, picking Emmrich’s brain about the magic of Solas’s dagger. It may have devolved. Emmrich is hardly complaining, but he is concerned by the way Belarra clutches the borrowed book to her chest. Her nails drum a rapid pattern against the cover and she looks up at him, mouth open as though to speak, before abruptly turning away. 

“Nothing!” She protests, shaking her head sharply. “I just - well, I borrowed this book. Without asking. Sorry. And I wanted to give it back and, well, here you are, with Rook.”

“Please don’t be worried about that,” Emmrich soothes, shoulders relaxing. He steps out to accept the return, pretending he doesn’t feel Rook’s gaze follow him. 

“Well, it’s not that I’m worried about,” Bellara corrects, admitting her worry before she realizes it. Her gaze jerks back up and Emmrich notices that her cheeks flush pink before she begins speaking again and it’s the fourth time she uses the word well. “I’m sorry! I - well, I mean. Oh…”

“Why are you apologizing? Is it damaged?” Emmrich asks, trying to gain control of the situation. 

“No! It isn’t. It’s fine. I’m fine, and I-” Bellara’s eyes are wide as she shakes her head again and then she looks past him, obviously finding Rook. 

“You seem real fine,” Rook says, teasing is second nature and Bellara’s pink flush becomes vibrant red. “Say it again and maybe I’ll believe you.” 

“Hi, Rook. Uhm, bye Rook. Bye Professor. I’ll see you both later.” It isn’t an answer and Bellara still looks like she may implode. “Oh, right! The book, here!” 

“Thank you.” Emmrich holds his hands out and Bellara drops it as though burned. So quickly he nearly misses the opportunity to catch it. The pages of the tome flutter and a few loose scraps slip free. Emmrich frowns. Perhaps it is damaged after all. 

“I’m sorry!” Belarra repeats, already backing out. “I didn’t mean to read it. It was just there and, you know - anyway.” She disappears before the dread can settle fully in Emmrich’s stomach. He notices first the book in his hand is one that, until he’d returned it to the shelf a day prior, had been atop his desk, and next that the pages on the floor don’t match the ones within. The parchment is too crisp, fresh, rather than worn with age.

“Bye, Bellara,” Rook calls, appearing behind Emmrich, curiosity unassuageable. “What do you think that was about?”

“Oh, dear,” Emmrich murmurs. “I think…” Then Rook is leaning down, picking the spilled parchment from the floor and Emmrich is too slow to stop it. The pages are new to them, despite the fact that the pages are entirely for them. “Wait, Rook - I can’t believe I placed a book back on the shelf with letters in them,” Emmrich chastises himself and Rook gawks at him. 

“That’s what you’re worried about? It’s just a letter, but she was so…” Rook trails off and their eyes fall to the pages as Emmrich reaches out, trying to retrieve them without making it an event but it’s too late. “They’re addressed to me.” Rook is peering at him from over the page and Emmrich sighs. 

“The letter is for you. I wrote it while you were in Minrathous but you returned before I could send it,” he admits. The words he wrote are earnest and wanton and he isn’t ashamed by them. Though they were definitely intended for a sole reader. “Surely she didn’t read the whole thing?”

“Let’s see,” Rook says, grinning as they begin to read. “Having spent a lifetime without your presence, it is an incredible wonder how it takes mere hours to feel the loss of you.”

“Well,” Emmrich begins, shifting. He isn’t ashamed of the words, but it is something different to have them read aloud by his lover. “She must have read that and stopped.” Rook looks up at him from beneath their lashes, expression mischievous.

“Not a chance,” they affirm. They’re still smirking when they return to the page but the expression slowly melts, softening. “The memory of your body bare beneath mine is a dichotomy of pleasures. Supple and lovely enough to sustain a man’s want for beauty into the next age; and yet so enticing I fear memory alone may drive me mad.” 

“I fear that may have been enough to cause such a reaction,” Emmrich interjects as they pause. “It’s-”

“Hush,” Rook interrupts.They’re reading silently now, skimming the page and Emmrich can’t help noticing how their lips part sweetly and their breath quickens. The letter is indiscrete. Missing Rook stirs something within Emmrich that spills onto the page, eager in ways he’s not felt in years.

“It is incredibly personal, I’m sorry I left it where it could be found,” Emmrich offers when the silence has gone on too long. It’s a surprise of its own when Rook is suddenly in his arms, hands on his chest and the back of his neck in that way they have. Almost as if they could climb him. 

“It’s beautiful,” Rook barely gets the words out before their mouth is on his. Their kiss is hungry, indulgent, and Emmrich forgets about the inciting context. He clutches Rook against his body, hands on their hips, pressing into the small of his back. When his fingers slip lower, cresting the curve of Rook’s rear, they make a soft sound but the second surprise is that the kiss breaks. Rook’s shoulders are trembling.

“Darling?” Emmrich asks, concern returning only until he realises Rook is laughing, their head dropped to his shoulder as the sounds bubbles out. “Pardon me?” 

“I’m sorry,” they gasp between giggles, “I just can’t believe Bellara knows about the mole on my ass, now.”

[lxffy]

Hello! Could i get a marco x reader fluff, where the reader is an assistant doctor or like night doctor and is burning themselves out but hides well til they pass out in front of marco and marco got super worried and he takes care of them and freaking out like a mother hen. And when they wake he hugs them and goes plz take care of yourself i only have one you in this lifetime

☂︎ nevermore !

pairing: marco x gn!reader

notes: first time writing for marco … hope I did him justice! also I never know what to call this kind of post… is it a fic? maybe? yes? no?

In only a few days, an unknown illness spread like wildfire throughout Sphinx, preying primarily on young children and the elderly. Marco had quickly deduced it had transferred from a trading ship that landed a few days prior but would have never guessed it would take your small town by storm.

— the first night

It was the first time in a while that the two of you had to pull an all-nighter to care for sick patients. But the two of you were in sync, tending to patients with the utmost care and taking the right measurements to avoid getting infected yourself.

“Marco, where’s the extra antibiotics?”

“Right here, doc!”

Despite being his assistant, he always jokingly referred to you as ‘doc’ when the two of you were working, but the small smile that appeared on his face meant he truly admired your hard work.

But as the night turned into day, the two of you realized that the curtains of this epidemic were not falling anytime soon.

— missed check-ins

Days passed, and you and Marco were overwhelmed with patients from left to right. There was barely any time to rest—you were missing meals to take naps that lasted minutes before springing back up to take care of the next patient. The last decent conversation you had with Marco felt like ages ago, and only time could tell when you’d have another quiet moment with him.

You and Marco had designated times to check in with each other, but with so many patients that needed immediate care, the check-ins became scribbles on post-it notes scattered in the office. During a brief passing, Marco noticed something slightly off with your demeanor.

“Y/n, if you need a break, take one. You’ve been running around since—,”

“It’s okay, Marco. Don’t worry about me—see?”

You smiled weakly, trying to force your eyelids from drooping so low. You knew you could use a break, and yet the influx of patients was too great to ignore. Your only option was to keep on moving.

Marco frowned, wishing he was able to take on the burden himself. Just before he was about to say something else, another patient had walked in with a yelp. His face was plastered with worry as he glanced back at you, and you simply gave a nod of approval before heading to the storage to pick up some more supplies. You didn't want him to worry about you when there were patients' lives on the line.

— his regret

The long days of the mysterious illness were finally coming to an end, and with the help of a temporary assistant, the burden of the entire epidemic had slightly been lifted off of your shoulders. But before you could get to your last patient, your movements slowed and suddenly your world turned black. The last thing you saw was a frantic Marco headed your way.

He was absolutely distraught. He noticed your unusual movements from the corner of his eye, dashing in your direction with unrivaled speed when he realized you were fainting. Marco was never one to show his emotions so blatantly, but your limp body in his arms had his worst nightmares turning into a reality.

“Y/n? Y/n!”

You were alive—thank fuck. But you were knocked out cold which meant anything could happen. He placed the back of his hand on your forehead—a fever. How could he have missed this? His worries earlier were spot on, but they somehow slipped past him.

Marco was quick to take action. The remaining patients could be taken care of by the temp, so he took the responsibility of nursing you back to health. Within minutes, he’d gathered your things and took you back to your home.

As you slept, he took care of you with quiet fervor. He was never gone for more than a few seconds at a time, making sure he was watching your every move. When he settled beside your bed after changing your clothes into something more comfortable, he did something quite uncharacteristic.

Marco closed his eyes as his calloused hands gently brought your hand to his lips, and he murmured,

“Y/n, please—please, wake up soon.”

And as if on command, your eyes slowly opened. His head was down as he silently prayed for your good health. You watched him quietly, unaware that he could be such a worrywart. It made you laugh, but just the slightest bit.

“I’m right here, Marco.”

He lifted his head with such force, you'd think something had yanked his head up. But the look in his eyes told you everything. He carefully pulled you toward his body, his arms wrapping around you so tight that you thought he was trying to merge the two of you into one.

“You’re the only one I have in this life, Y/n. Please, promise me that you’ll take care of yourself.”

[sethsclearwater]

Hey girl,, you've been going OFF on the smut lately and I honestly love it but imma be honest,I miss the fluff images😭 so I was wondering if you could write one where Paul is just being EXTRA protective and all with the reader after she gave birth? Just a lot of fluff and a super protective Paul,, love ya ��️❤️

"princess," paul let out a heavy sigh, quickly stepping over to you and gently pushing your shoulders back down onto the bed so you'd lay back down.

you let out a huff, crossing your arms over your chest as you looked up at your imprinter, "sue said you should be resting for at least a week," he explained, sitting down on the edge of the bed next to you and gently stroking his hand up and down your arm soothingly as he watched your disgruntled expression.

you sucked in a breath before responding, "i think i can go grab our baby paul," you said with a soft laugh, watching as he rolled his eyes but cracked a small smile at your comment nonetheless.

"i'll go grab him, yea? you should stay here," he suggested and you rolled your eyes again, already knowing there was no way he was letting you get up unless it was absolutely necessary.

you huffed but conceded, giving him a small nod which had him smiling as he leaned over to press a gentle kiss to your forehead before he was getting up to go grab your baby from his nursery.

within a few moments, paul returned carrying your baby who was quietly cooing up at his dad. you smiled as you saw the two of them, allowing paul to gently hand you your baby so you could cradle him while he came to sit down next to you in bed, "hi baby," you cooed, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his forehead, "i missed you," you added with a giggle, smiling when your baby just continued watching you in complete wonder.

"did such a good job," paul murmured after a moment when you curled into his side, referencing your labor the day prior. you let out a breathy laugh, shaking your head.

"doesn't feel like it," you responded, voice barely above a whisper but paul could easily hear the playful tone in your voice.

he rolled his eyes, pressing his lips to your hair, "promise you did such a good job," he reiterated, wrapping his arm around you so he could gently squeeze your hip, "even though you said you weren't gonna let me anywhere near you ever again," he added, both of you letting out laughs at the memory of you completely losing it on paul when you started pushing.

"did you take some more tylenol yet?" he asked softly after a moment of silence passed between the two of you. you hummed and nodded in response to him, "is it helping?" he asked, patiently waiting for you to respond as he watched you take in your baby who had quickly fallen asleep in your arms.

"not really," you murmured before peeking up at him, "still feel like i got hit by a bus," you added, both you and paul letting out quiet laughs at your comparison.

"'m sorry princess," paul murmured, pressing his lips to your temple for a moment, "you've got a lifetime supply of those padsicles in the freezer if you want another one," he added and you giggled, shaking your head.

"maybe in a little bit," you whispered, leaning up a bit to press a soft kiss to his lips, "thanks for taking care of me," you added and paul smiled a bit, cupping your jaw with his free hand as you two took in each other for a moment.

"nothing i'd rather be doing," he responded and you beamed up at him, pressing another soft kiss to his lips, happy to know you now had both your boys with you.

[sturnmeovr]

City of Love III - Matt Sturniolo

Requested by anon I II Parings - neighbor!Matt x fem!Reader Summary - Even though your confession leaves Matt uneasy, he still invites you to dinner at his place, that's only if you cook, of course. Warnings - strong language, fluff, W/c - 3208 A/n - Sorry for the wait, I was debating on continuing because part two didn't get that much love, but I really like the concept of City of Love 🥲 Not sure how many parts I'll be doing yet. Enjoy! Masterlist Top Liked - Pierced II Most Recent - Mama Request & Asks are always open

Opening the drapes, you were greeted by warm sunlight beaming through and lighting up the room. You made yourself useful this morning, going for a jog, and finishing your morning routine, even though you woke up around noon. The sequence of events from the night before made sleep almost impossible for you. You tossed and turned for a while, the image of Matt’s face engraved into your brain. Deciding to distract yourself, you stayed up late, unpacking the rest of your belongings, and blaring your go-to playlist throughout the house. The night ended with everything unpacked and you passed out on the fuzzy rug in your living room.

Not being able to shake the harsh feeling of Matt’s pained expression, going for a jog was your only escape so, that’s what you did as soon as you finished your breakfast. Little did you know, Matt and his brothers would be arriving at their house right as you’re ending your morning jog. Plastic bags wrapped around his fingers as he shuts the car door, his eyes land on you, quickly followed by his two look-a-like’s. You plaster an awkward smile on your face, waving, and jogging past them, not wanting to be held up by any more uncomfortable conversations. The AirPods in your ears and beads of sweat dripping down your face being the main indicator you weren’t up for chatting. You didn’t dare to look over your shoulder, entering your house, and heading straight for the shower. 

After opening almost every curtain in your house, letting in as much natural sunlight as possible, you go downstairs to your living room. The only tv you had was in the living room and your couches were still in shipment. You take a seat on your fuzzy rug, turn on your tv, and scroll through Netflix. Once you finally land on something that sparks your interest, your phone dings. Quickly selecting the movie and tapping your screen, you see it’s a text from Matt. 

A toothless smile pulls at your lips. Maybe Matt wasn’t thrown off by your confession like you thought he was. If roles were reversed, him telling you that he just got out of a serious relationship months prior, you would cut all ties right then and there. In all honesty, if your past relationship hadn’t ended so badly, you would still be in Seattle, in contact with him. You couldn’t blame Matt for how he felt about the recent revelation, but you certainly did blame yourself for letting it slip too soon. Something about Matt made you want more of him every time he left, and the last few nights you had been restraining yourself from walking next door to talk to him. Every conversation was light and easy-going, making you feel like you two had known each other for a lifetime. You weren’t much of a talker so feeling comfortable around him had you shook for words, leaving you wondering how much the bond meant to him. It meant the world to you. 

Even though you knew leaving Seattle was the right idea, you couldn’t help but feel homesick, missing your friends and family. Matt had a special way of making you forget about all of when he was around. You still made sure to keep in contact with your loved ones back in Seattle, nightly calls to your best friends and parenting showed them how much you really liked him. It had only been a week, and you couldn’t shut up about him

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You spend a couple hours at Target, picking up numerous things for your house, and ingredients for dinner. You decided on your classic ‘Marry Me Chicken’ - mainly because it was the first dish you were ever taught, and you had mastered it by now - you wanted to impress Matt and his brothers. First impressions were everything to you. Even if things might’ve been too far gone with Matt, you at least wanted to knock him off his feet with your cooking skills. 

Your arms stacked with plastic grocery bags; you stumble up to his front door. Struggling to get a hand up, the front door flies open, “Y/n! Matt, Y/n’s here!” One of Matt’s lookalike’s scoop bags out of your hands, you couldn’t tell if it was Nick or Chris, but you at least knew their names. You watch as he nods his head for you to follow him. Stepping into their house, you kick off your shoes out of respect even though he still has his on his feet. He yells, “Matt, get your ass in here!” just as Matt rushes around the corner, locking eyes with you. His face quickly turns a light shade of pink and a smile pulls at his lips, “hey.” 

You could’ve sworn his flustered expression was contagious by the way your face matches his almost immediately, but you try to play it off, forcing a toothless smile, "hi." 

Matt reaches for the grocery bags that are still weighing you down and his brother snorts at the interaction, “wow oh- kay.” His comment makes Matt’s face twist in embarrassment and irritation, “this is my brother, Nick.” Matt collects the rest of the groceries and sets them on the island, “the loud one.” 

“I think we’re all pretty loud Matt,” Nick shoots back sarcastically and turns his attention, “I prefer ‘the gay one’ in case you were wondering.” 

You let out a little giggle, “I’ll keep that in mind.” Making your way to the islands to help Matt unload the groceries. His gaze is stuck on you as he carelessly sets the tomatoes on the counter, only noticing they’re rolling off when it’s too late to catch them. “Matt!” you exclaim, a little too loud for your own liking, “you’re gonna bruise my tomatoes!” 

“Shit, sorry!” He quickly crouches down to pick them up before turning the knob on the sink and running them under cold water. You make your way to him, “sorry,” grabbing the tomatoes to inspect it, “a bruised tomato makes a shitty sauce.” After deciding it’s okay, you look up to see Matt’s eyes still glued on you, “I’ll be more careful next time.” 

You watch as he presses his lips in a thin line, attempting to hold back the grin that’s trying to break through. Matching his energy, you playfully furrow your eyebrows at him, “you should be. How am I gonna show off my killer cooking skills when you’re damaging the most important ingredient?” 

He cracks a smile, “you haven’t even told me what you were making yet. How am I supposed to know it’s the most important ingredient?” You let out a laugh, being able to go back and forth with him was something you loved. It’s like all the momentary awkwardness from the series of events the night before didn’t matter. It disappeared for the time being, but your intuition told you it’d be brought back up later in the night. 

“Marry me chicken,” you tell him. Matt raises an eyebrow, “it was the first recipe I learned,” you deadpan, not wanting him to get the wrong idea of the title. You didn’t make up the name for the recipe, and you had no idea if you were preparing this dinner as Matts friend or as his situationship that lives next door.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

“Okay, now the heavy cream,” you hold your hand out. Matt takes notion, handing you the carton of heavy whipping cream almost immediately., making you nod to him as a way of saying thank you. Matt had been a big help in the kitchen all night. He handed all the ingredients to you as you needed them, making small talk to keep you company while his brothers watched a movie in the living room. You step away from the stove, wiping your hands on a kitchen towel nearby, and leaning against the opposite counter from Matt. 

“So,” he stretches out, crossing his arms over his chest, “about last night.” You shift awkwardly, not wanting to bring the conversation up, but you knew it had to be done. Your intuition was dead on. At this point the topic was the elephant in the room, like a big boulder sitting in the middle of the kitchen that you and Matt had to constantly shuffle around. IYou watch as he clears his throat, his eyes darting from your lips to your eyes, “I asked too many questions.” You shake your head at him, “questions are good. I don’t mind,” you ramble like an idiot, mentally face palming yourself. Talking about your ex made you nervous, you didn’t want to say or do anything that made Matt distance himself. 

An anxious chuckle falls from his lips, “maybe I made some assumptions too soon,” he states before pinning his bottom lip between his teeth, “I really like you. I don’t want you to think I’m not into you for any reason.”

His words take you by surprise, and you open your mouth to speak, “finally being straightforward,” you poke at him. Matt being so to the point, telling you how he felt about the situation, was new. The little time you had known him, you always found yourself searching for answers without actually asking questions. Maybe it was because he was too interesting to you. He could tell you his whole life story, and you’d still want to know more. A smile creeps onto Matt’s face, “figured I’d try something new,” he jokes, keeping the same playful tone as you. The butterflies in your stomach dance and your face heats up a bright shade of red, “well I’m glad you told me 'cause I definitely thought you hated me after last night. I snapped on you, I’m sorry. I felt really bad afterwards.”

Matt scrunches his face, shaking his head, “don’t apologize. The attitude was on point,” he tells you, holding his fingers up to form an okay sign. You giggle, “you like ‘em a lil spicy, huh?” 

Matt snorts, letting a small laugh escape his lips, “only the kind of spice you have.” He lets his face contort, cringing from his own words, “sorry, that was too much,” making you burst into laughter. You double over holding your stomach, “no, that was cute - a little cheesy - but cute.” Your infectious laugh brings a bright smile too his face and he quickly joins in with you, “cheesy pick-up lines are a given with me, just to let you know.” 

“At least I’ll get a good laugh every day,” you coo back at him, running a hand through your hair before pushing yourself off the counter and approaching the stove that he’s standing next to. You stir the sauce gently and bring the spoon up to your mouth for a taste test, “yeah, I’m a chef. Let Gordon Ramsey know I’m coming for his spot!” you exclaim before taking another spoonful for Matt. Blowing on it a few times, you cup your hand under the spoon as you guide it to his lips. Matt locks his eyes on your, taking a slow slurp from the spoon. The intensity of his gaze makes you want to break eye contact and hide your face like the true shy girl you are, but his piercing blue orbs are too strong to let you look away, keeping you in a trance as your face lights up and goosebumps form on your arms. 

Your eyes widen a bit, but you quickly try to play it off, relaxing your face as you pull the spoon away. “Wow, that’s really good. Somebody needs to put you on top chef,” he jokes, clearly not picking up on the effect he had on you. Lust swirls around in your gut, making the words struggle to get out of your throat, “th-that good?” 

“Oh yea,” he confirms before plastering a kool aid like smile across his lips. “I’m really impressed. You're gonna have to cook for me more often,” he tells you, inching so close that you can feel his body heat radiating off you. It was clear by now Matt had a certain effect on you that nobody has ever had before. Little things like Matt holding eye contact or forcing proximity between you two made you wonder if he knew about the butterflies he placed in your stomach every time he spoke to you or accidentally brushed his arm against yours. You felt like a seventh grade girl obsessing over her first crush, except you were a grown woman crushing on the boy next door. 

Matt knew exactly what he was doing. Being the gentleman he truly was, half the time he didn’t act on his impulsive behaviors. If it was up to him, he’d have you all to himself, telling you how much he really cared about you. Matt felt the same way about you as you did about him. The past relationships and random hook ups you two had weren’t anything compared to this weeklong bond you formed. As pathetic as it sounds, the connection had Matt in a chokehold and you in a death grip, not letting either of you go, and only leaving you both wanting more each time one of you pull away.

After last night, he went home and talked to his brothers about you just like he had been doing every night since the first interaction. Matt was worried something fierce about you exposing the fact you were four months fresh from a three year long relationship. He feared your ex was still in the picture, that he would text you any moment and you’d be on your way back to Seattle. Nick and Chris feeding him comments along the lines of - “so what, man? Go get some ass. You haven’t been laid in months, it’s starting to scare me,” and “you barely even know the girl. Stop worrying about her ex,” but when his bothered expression didn’t budge from his face, his brothers quickly took notice, “holy shit! You like her?!” Chris teases him immediately and Nick balances it out by saying, “leave him alone, Chris. He barely likes anyone.”

If Matt was being completely honest, he was just waiting for the moment that provided the right space and opportunity to tell you - and show you - how he really felt. When you passed by him on your morning jog, he could feel the vibes were off. Unknowingly being in tune to your energy already, negativity was practically oozing out of you, and Matt took notice right away. The torn expression on your face mixed with beads of sweat dripping from your brow, Matt felt horrible for how he reacted the night before. He had to come up with a plan to get you in the same room as him again, and once he remembered how much you loved to cook, he decided to test the waters. Luckily for him, it was working out perfectly. 

“Just have to drain the pasta,” you announce before covering your hands in oven mitts and picking up the pot full of boiling hot penne noodles. Carefully taking a step back, your body comes to a halt as you crash into Matt, who didn’t take cue that you were moving with caution. The hot water splashes, coating your oven mitts, and you jut your body outward, hissing from the contact. Mentally praising yourself for using the mitts, your hands would be covered in burns if you hadn’t.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Matt blurts out before taking the hot pot from you, not caring if it was too hot to touch, and carelessly setting it on the counter. He quickly turns his attention back to you, pulling off the oven mitts, and inspecting your hands. “Are you okay? Sorry, I was just looking at you, wasn’t paying attention. It didn’t get you, did it?” he rambles, taking your hands and turning them every which way to make sure there were no visible burns. 

“No, no, I’m fine. Those are some thick oven mitts,” you joke trying to ease his panic. You thought it was cute how much the idea of you being hurt put him in a frenzy. “Are you sure?” his words laced with concern, and a worried look etched across his face, as he continues to inspect you. The warmth of his hands makes you suck in a sharp breath, nodding slowly, “promise.” 

Matt finally looks up at you, his eyes glancing towards your lips. He takes a step back, swallowing hard like he’s physically holding himself back from his next action. You watch as he leans over the stove, flipping the burner off you had thoughtlessly left on before taking a step closer to you. His hands snake around your waist, pulling you to him. The way your bodies fit together like two missing puzzle pieces makes a familiar weakness buckle at your knees. “I feel so bad,” he confesses. Matt sways side to side, gently rocking you with him as he plants a kiss on your forehead, “I’m really sorry.” 

You pull back from him slightly, only so you can show him your hands, “no burns. I’m all good,” you tell him honestly. The worriment still plastered on his face as you wrap your arms around his neck, gently rubbing a thumb along the nape of his neck. “You’re sure?” he presses his lips in a thin line, trying to fight off a smile that was pulling at his lips. Playfully furrowing your eyebrows at him, “only if you promise I walk out of here in one piece.” 

As much as Matt wanted to take you to his bedroom and leave you crawling out of his house, he knew it was the wrong thing to say. No promises. “Promise,” he lets his smile break through and yours follows soon after.

Matt lets his eyes explore, drifting from your eyes to your lips, and back up to your eyes again. You were fascinated by the meaning his held, they locked you in every time. His eyes were so blue, you felt like you were drowning every time he looked at you. You and Matt stay lost in time for a few seconds before you make your move, tiptoeing to press your lips to his. Not like other times when Matt would pull away rather quickly, letting his nerves get the best of him. Instead, he digs his fingers into your waist, pulling you so close that your body is pressed against his. He trails a hand up your arm until he's cupping the back of your neck, walking you backwards, the only thing to stop you is the edge of the countertop protruding into your back. 

The built up sexual tension has your tongues dancing together like two ballroom characters from a Disney movie. In a way, this was your real-life version of Beauty and The Beast - pressed up against Matt’s counter as his hands explored your body and his tongue inspected every inch of your mouth. You didn't know where you and Matt stood, you didn't know the title of your relationship you shared with him, but you knew you enjoyed every second spent with him and you didn't want it to end anytime soon.

🏷️ - @lvrsturniolo @unknvhx @m11rx @ribread03 @emely9274 @thepubeburgler @loveparqdise @frickin-bats @sweetshuga (If I'm missing anyone or if anyone wants added, just let me know! Also pls remember to turn your tags on if they aren't already!)

[utilitycaster]

The thing that I think gets me about Neve the most, and this is past the point where I personally am in the game, is that you can still romance her after you've chosen to prioritize Treviso (which you can't do for Lucanis if you do the reverse). The thing is, it makes sense. Neve judges you negatively for trusting her. There's a dialogue in the Shadow Dragons hideout where Tarquin (Shadow Dragons faction agent) gripes about The Viper (Shadow Dragons faction agent and leader) running background checks on him, before admitting he'd probably do the same. And the thing is, if you tell Tarquin that this seems reasonable he accepts it, but he seems irritated. Neve doesn't.

You meet Neve striking a pose, having frozen her assailants, needing none of your help. Neve does not, on the whole, ever seem to want your help until she begs you to save Minrathous. She approves of you taking her to interrupt the ritual, and seems to be entirely unbothered by the fact that it leaves her badly bruised - indeed, you have to actively choose to leave her behind later when you go looking for Bellara.

Neve loves Minrathous and Dock Town, which means she also hates them. She takes you there, if you do the companion quest, which you should. She invites you after Bellara fangirls out over some news pieces about her (Neve drily remarks they were hit pieces), to go pick up some leads and some serials Bellara wants. For all she's sarcastic, gruff, and even a little snide with Bellara (and with my playing of Rook, who is fairly direct and positive with the Veilguard companions) and doesn't believe a Tevinter serial would ever truly end happily if it were remotely realistic, she still wants to get those serials for her teammates. She's not here to make friends, though she's slowly doing so, but she also believes in working with your allies even when they're sunny and scatterbrained or bracingly positive and you're an exhausted, cynical detective.

Exhausted is I think the most salient point. Neve is fucking tired. She tells you she's lived in Dock Town her whole life, and she became a detective, taking on cases for people who weren't helped by the Templars (who, you learn in one of the core missions prior to your choice to save only one of Minrathous and Treviso, are corrupt all the way up to the top). After solving a missing person case successfully, with an implication that she freed a slave in the process, the Shadow Dragons recruited her, but she's been doing the same work she always done. And the Shadow Dragons, meanwhile, in addition to attempting, with limited success, to infiltrate the Magistrate and fight for abolitionism, also do a lot of work like Neve's: helping people on the street. Their basement is full of unhoused and hungry people with nowhere else to go.

Neve is tired because, I think, she doesn't really believe Minrathous will get much better in her lifetime. She tells you in her companion quest, as you eat street food on the docks, looking out into the ocean, that she treasures the small wins because that's what she gets. Whereas the Crows remember a free Treviso and fight for that, Neve, in particular, feels like she's just trying to keep things from getting worse, and maybe help a few people. She's cynical because dreaming big probably won't pan out and she knows it so she's not going to waste her time.

Her work is her life. Her gift is literally just more evidence. Harding, Lucanis, and Bellara all reminisce about friends and family, but Neve still hasn't yet. You get the sense that Rana, one of the few clean Templars with whom she works, is probably the person she'd put down as an emergency contact. She doesn't even really get along with Tarquin, though, to be fair, doesn't seem like anyone does. Her world is a network of people who are useful.

I'm going somewhere with this, and that's, unsurprisingly, to Critical Role Campaign 3, because after all that here's my thesis: Neve is what people want some of Bells Hells, but especially Ashton, to be.

I've seen defense of Ashton's abrasiveness because many leftists are abrasive people, and the thing is, that's not untrue, but they're abrasive because they're like Neve: they're doing endless difficult work with very little reward or thanks, and at most they get small wins.

What has Ashton done for their communities? The Nobodies and Krook House aren't feeding the hungry or fighting corruption; the former is a group of thieves with no particular cause and the latter a punk co-op house. What was Ashton doing for the people of Jrusar or Bassuras? I struggle to find anything tangible. There's a lot of talk and no action - punk aesthetics and a lot of talk about standing for the weak, but when do they actually do that? It's all very surface level, and so the defenses of Ashton must focus entirely on what and who they are (nb, disabled, punk, had a terrible childhood) and what they say but never, ever, what they do. It's posturing.

Neve? It's entirely what she does. She is, for what it's worth, disabled and queer (and played by a woman of color, though whether she's coded as such in-game probably requires an academic background in both the history of Thedas and the history of the real-world Black Sea region) but we don't know a damn thing about her childhood yet. We don't know if she's been hurt or heartbroken or abandoned until we, as Rook, have to decide whether to do that to her. And when we do? She takes her time (she's not back yet in my game) but in the end, she blames the actual root causes of the elven gods sending the dragon and blight, and the Venatori working with them and, as far as I know, gets back to work. As she always has.

[rebelliousstories]

Somebody Knows

Relationship: Spencer Reid x Reader

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Request: No

Warnings: Angst, Light Fluff, Mentions of Violence and Pregnancy

Word Count: 1,465

Main Masterlist: Here

Criminal Minds Masterlist: Here

Part One: Did You Know?// Part Two: I Know Now// Part Four: What We Know

Summary: As soon as he thinks he has her back, she is snatched away at the last second.

“I vow to fiercely love you in all your forms, now and forever. I promise to never forget that this is a once in a lifetime love.” Leo (The Vow)

Spencer tried to call his wife, and was sent to voicemail once more. The SUV pulled up to the women’s correctional facility and his heart began to race. All he wanted was to wrap his wife up in his arms and keep her there; and here he was being denied that privilege. All he could do was hope that she used the FBI part of her brain again, and kept the both of them alive.

It was dark in the trunk of the car. She could not see any light,but she could feel Diana behind her shaking. The duct tape on their mouths and hands made it difficult for her to comfort her mother-in-law, but that did not stop her from trying to provide some indication that she was alive.

However, her brain kept circling back to the “nurse” that had kidnapped them. Even with all her previous training, she was not immune to being put into a dangerous situation like this. The face of the young girl did not trigger any recognition in her, but maybe it did with someone else. Maybe Spencer would know, if he was ever allowed out of prison to help on the case.

The car that she was shoved into was stopped, and she could faintly smell gasoline. They had to be at a gas station of some sort. She did not know how long they had been stopped, but Diana was starting to wake up again and make some noise. Not too long afterwards, a gunshot was muffled through the lid of the trunk, and then bright lights. It was nighttime out, but the contrast between neon lights and the darkness of the trunk blinded her.

“Get out.” The girl in front of her demanded, pointing a gun at her. Cautiously, she struggled to pull herself up and out of the trunk. Apparently the girl with the gun thought that she was taking too long, and cocked the weapon with a demand to hurry up. In what she may have come to regret, Mrs. Reid tried to remove the gun from the woman’s hands. The struggle ended up on the ground, but she had yet to disengage the weapon. She had to give it to the girl; she knew what she was doing with that.

Before she could move, another gunshot rang out. This time that bang was loud, but the screams of pain from behind the duct tape were louder. A bullet was lodged inside her thigh. All she could hope for was that it missed the bones and artery. Her hair was pulled by a small fist to another vehicle where she was dumped unceremoniously. Diana followed shortly after, and she saw the flames encompass the previous car that she had spent time in.

After that, it was a blur. She did not know if it was the blood loss, adrenaline, or pure exhaustion. It was probably a mixture of all three. This was why she went into being a professor after the bureau. Her hands rubbed soothing circles on her stomach and thought back to when she found out.

She remembered it like it was yesterday. The day prior, she had watched her husband with desperate eyes being escorted out of the court room in handcuffs. Today, she was sitting in their shared bathroom while her mother-in-law slept in her bed, staring down at the little blue line in her hands.

It was a relief to know that their dream was coming true, but what would happen if Spencer lost his case? Could she raise a child alone, while having her career and taking care of his ailing mother? There were so many questions to be answered, but none of them would be answered. She just knew that if Spencer were here, he would be nervously rambling off facts as he tried to contain his excitement.

Making her way to the living room, she tucked herself upon their couch, and pulled a book to read. But she just sat there rereading the same page over and over again. Her brain was racing a million miles an hour until Diana came to her.

“What’s eating at you, kid?” Turning her head, the younger Reid let her mother-in-law sit down next to her as she shut the book.

“Just something I wish I was able to tell Spencer before he was left. But I’m hoping he’ll be back soon so I can.” It was better to go with whatever state of mind she was in right now, as confusing her would just lead to another problem for her to stress about.

“Well, whatever it is, you two will make the best decision you two can. Both of you are so smart, and very clever. You’ll have time to tell him when he gets back.” Diana patted her hand, before she got her own book out to read.

But there might not be another time to tell him. The blood loss from her leg meant that she had to be carried inside by some big man that she could not even remember the face of. Her brain was so foggy and was blurring constantly. There was some comfort in knowing that if she had clipped her femoral artery, she would be dead by now.

The sight of her husband’s team bursting through the door provided some comfort in her hazed mind. She could not process that there was something important going on with the woman who had kidnapped her and, was that Emily? Yeah, Emily was here. She would be okay. Someone ran over and checked her pulse while yelling for an ambulance. They patted her face to bring her focus back to them, and that is when she saw the comforting face of David Rossi right next to her.

“Hey, hey bella, you need to keep your eyes on me. We’re going to get you out of here and to the kid. Okay? But you have to stay awake.” The Italian pleaded, but she was starting to phase in and out once more.

“Rossi? Where’s Diana? Is she okay?” Those were her first questions, scratch that, her first words since this had all happened.

“She’s fine. She’s being checked out by the EMT. Which you also need, but you’re going to stay awake, stay with me, and stay here while they get ready for you so you can go home to Spencer.” Rossi held her hand in one of his, while the other rested gently on her face. Eventually, he did have to give way to the medics so they were able to do their work, but he was riding in the back of the ambulance the entire way to the hospital. She tried to keep her eyes open, but pain, exhaustion, and the loss of blood meant that her eyes eventually slipped shut despite everyone’s protests.

This night would forever go down as the night where she could not remember, but she couldn’t not forget. There were such large gaps of time missing, and still so many questions. By the time she came to, bright lights and a sterile smell greeted her. Her eyes were squinted in the blinding lights, but there was a warmth next to her that was difficult to explain. Looking to her right, she noticed that her tall, lanky husband was hunched over uncomfortably in the thinly cushioned chair next to her bed in the hospital.

Picking p her left hand, she twirled a curl on his head in a comforting gesture which caused the man to be woken. He looked to her with an impossibly wide smile, and held her hands in his. Pressing a kiss to them, Spencer looked deeply into her eyes.

“You’re here.” He whispered with gravel in his voice.

“You’re here.” Sounding equally as rough, the couple leaned in and just rested their heads against one another’s.

“Spence, I’ve gotta tell you something,” came her words. But the man just cut her off with a quiet shush.

“It’s alright. I figured it out. Plus the doctors told me. We can talk later. You need rest, okay?” He argued, leaning her back down where she laid. The husband and wife did not speak for a long while. They just sat in silence as the events of the last few hours weighed heavily on them. But they both knew that with the other, they could make it through.

Ngina Otiende said, “Marriage is meant to keep people together, not just when things are good, but particularly when they are not. That’s why we take marriage vows, not wishes.”

[trulyumai]

Personal Space? Never Heard Of Her!

Synopsis: You help the big boss (Jack), with every day tasks. He sees some forms missing from his desk and questions you. Jealousy ensues.

Pairing: Handsome Jack/You

Warnings: Murder (I mean it is Jack)

Available on AO3!

A/N: I know this is kind of a niche fandom, but Ive been obsessed with it recently! Enjoy the reading :)

“-Listen, listen, sweetheart, how many times do we have to go through this?” Jack's voice echoed through his office, you stood there just behind him with a frown marking your face. 

“Jack, I already said-” 

“Ah, ah, Mr. Jack pumpkin Mr,” Turning back to you he wiggled his long finger, tutting you lightly. 

“Mr. Jack,” You bit out, 

“The forms were already submitted. I told you the current marketers already came down for them. 

Squinting at you he plopped down on his chair, it groaned in protest as his heeled dress shoes rested on the oak desk in front. 

“Careful with that tone. I just like my things organized, is that so bad? I didn't know those shit brains were already on the new prototype,” Idly swinging his pistol it twirled between the man's fingertips, it would have been quite impressive if you weren't already mildly annoyed. 

Crossing your arms, pivoting one hip to touch the table, you relaxed your face. Somewhat afraid of the man, you didn't want to piss him off this early in the day. 

Afterall, you didn't dare think just how many assistants had come before you, shot and maimed  in this very room before you desperately enough took the interview for this (once in a lifetime) job.

The man rambled on, about the new gun designs, “Dumb ass,” bandits and the citizen who unfortunately ran into him this morning. 

“-Filthy fucking guy, how could he not see me coming! I was gonna rip his eyes out but who am I- '' Pausing all his movements halted, until he slowly, oh so slowly faced towards your direction once more. 

With still movements you paused too, wearily eying the man before he finally spoke up. 

“Wait, wait. Hold on, hold on, back up.”

Backing up a step you gripped one wrist with your hand. 

“No not literally you fucking- Your sentence. The researchers?” Frowning you traced back to your prior conversation 

“Yes, sir. The um, Prototype? They came in early, asked, well, demanded the papers. Said it was urgent.”

Sitting up Jack put both his gloved hands on the desk, gripping the corners until you heard the crinkling of his leather gloves. 

“They came. In my office, and you let them in?” 

Oh no. 

“W-well sir, they said- they demanded me to! Said you gave them special permission, made me walk ahead of them to open the door, and an-” 

A single hand was lifted, halting you to stop the rambling. The glass windows behind him showed the business of the city. Skyscrapers cascaded around the office, the clouds invaded the unusually blue sky and you wanted to run- run and bury yourself between the shiny buildings and fluffy skies. 

“What were these, shall we say, gentlemans names, hm?”

Distracted by the plethora of people on the streets you didn't answer, didn't even notice the man get up from his chair and place himself in front of you until his big hand squeezed the meat around your face. “Answer, pumpkin.” 

“The names? Um, Mordecai- I think and maybe ah-” The grip worsened, with increased pressure you felt the creaking of your jaw, the tightness on your skin. 

“S-Steven! That's it, I'm sure!” 

Eyes darting back and forth between yours he let go, switching to put his arm around your waist. 

“See? Was that so hard! Good job, sweetheart, really, that must have exhausted you,” 

His fingers skirted across your form, until his fingers danced at the hem of the blouse you wore. They lifted it a tad and met the skin with a warm touch, lightly gliding his fingers up down and as he hummed in thought. 

“Pretty sure those are downstairs guys. Let's pay them a visit! See what they have to say about personal space,”

Dragging you along, he pressed the elevator before leaning down on you, putting the side of his head to rest on your own. 

With a cocky expression he noticed your nervous form. “Don't worry, sweetheart- you tell Ol’ Mr. Jack, which one did the demanding and this will all be over soon!” His hand twitched on the opposite side. 

“Maybe we can even get some brunch after, I'm starving.” 

Nodding your head you held back a wince. 

The morning just started and there were already three casualties. 

What a morning in Pandora.

[venture-through-the-mist]

Thoughts on The Lotus Eaters

As I’m sure is obvious, this will be discussing the Lotus Eaters quest in detail, so if you haven’t played it yet, I’d suggest skipping this post! I don’t want to spoil it for anyone (because even though it’s a short quest, I still think it benefits from being played with no prior knowledge of what it entails), so the full post will be below the cut.

Alright, I have SO many thoughts, so I’m going to try and keep this somewhat concise…ish. This is mostly just a bunch of rambles, so I apologize for any grammatical errors or if it’s hard to understand. I just kinda…wrote what came to my mind.

First off,

The Music: I briefly mentioned this in another post, but holy shit the music for this update is amazing. I mean, we all knew it would be, Warframe has a tendency to put out absolutely awesome songs, but oh my god. We get two more versions of what is one of my favorite songs in the game. The loading screen version of ‘This is What You Are’ has to be, by far, one of my favorite things I’ve heard from this game. I love the feel to it, like a combination of ‘old’ Warframe with ‘new’, 1999-era Warframe. I’ve had it playing on repeat almost all day because it’s so good.

Now, for the version of ‘This is What You Are’ that we actually get during the quest, the one that Lotus is singing to herself. I, admittedly, didn’t pay too much attention to it when I was actually playing the quest, at least not beyond “omg Lotus is singing, that’s awesome” (I was just too excited about the actual quest lol). However, when I listened to it again, I was fascinated by the subtle differences in how this version sounds compared to the ‘normal’ version of the song, or even to the new version in the loading screen. The singing is a lot more staccato, and the notes don’t flow into each other in the ways they normally would. It’s almost as if Lotus is having to concentrate more on what comes next (at least, that’s my interpretation), which makes sense given that we know that she’s singing in order to drown out the Indifference’s voice. Her singing also sounds a little sad, or maybe just lonely, to me. Her mind is filled with the Indifference trying to influence her, and she’s taken it upon herself to be a barrier (or as she says it, a “distraction”) between It and the Tenno. She’s secluded herself (again), and her tone of voice seems to reflect that.

Also, after the quest, if you go and talk to Daughter/Kaelli in the Necralisk, ‘Party of Your Lifetime’ plays now, instead of whatever song was playing before. I just think that’s neat (and also brings in some interesting ideas for 1999…what did our Drifter do?).

Moving on…

The Story: I had absolutely zero idea where the story was going to go from this update, but I was a bit worried about how they’d go about locking us into playing as the Drifter for 1999, since — although I 1000% agree with why the Drifter is definitely going to be the one going back in time — I’m definitely someone who would rather play as my Operator for my own lore reasons (and I can’t think of a reason that my Operator would let the Drifter do this instead of her). I was actually wondering if they’d actually lock us into the Drifter without giving us a choice, or if they just wouldn’t give us the option to do the romance stuff if we chose Operator (for obvious reasons…bc yk, they’re a child). But, I really enjoy the route they went down, how Lotus knows that the Drifter has to be the one this time, because if the Operator does, that might just be giving the Indifference exactly what it wants. She’s, once again, protecting her kids in the way she knows how, by taking them out of the conflict in any way she can.

But, I’m getting a bit ahead of myself, so let’s backtrack a bit and talk about how cool it is that we see the Operator and the Drifter interacting with Lotus at the same time. I may have missed something in the quests leading up to that, or this might just be something attributed to the Man in the Wall’s hijinks, or…something, but I thought that they couldn’t be in the same place at the same time/in the same ‘reality’. So, I was quite surprised (pleasantly, ofc) to see both of them. I really love the difference in the dialogue options when we initially talk to Lotus. The Operator is torn between wondering if Lotus is alright, and also being super worried about what the hell the noise is, in a way that makes me think they definitely suspect that the Indifference is meddling with things again (which makes sense, given that they’re actively in the Sanctum). Honestly, the Operator was probably waiting for something like this to happen. They know, or at least suspect, that Lotus saw the Man in the Wall after the battle with Ballas, it was only a matter of time before that became important. The Drifter, on the other hand, is more concerned with Lotus herself, warning her to be careful, reassuring her, but also wondering what she means by “It’s you”. Maybe the Drifter doesn’t really know the extent of the effects that the Indifference has on the System, maybe the Operator is just trying to protect Lotus in the only way they know how…get the perceived danger away from her first, ask questions later (I’ve noticed from their dialogue throughout the game that the Operator tends to have a bit of a sharper temper than the Drifter does…perhaps bc they’re younger). Either way, it’s nice that they have different responses to seeing Lotus and hearing the noise.

I chose the “Are you okay” and “What do you mean, ‘it’s you’?” dialogue options, and I absolutely loved that my Operator’s line was “This isn’t just a bad memory, it is? This is new”. This acknowledges, at least in my interpretation, that Lotus does have lingering emotions from everything that’s happened in the past (Ballas/The New War, Hunhow, etc). Once again, Warframe surprises me by remembering to make the trauma that a character has gone through actually relevant to the story even after we’ve dealt with the source of the problem. I probably shouldn’t be surprised at this, but most video games I’ve seen don’t tend to do that. Usually characters are…somewhat fine after experiencing something horrific, so it’s refreshing to see a different (more realistic, imo) take on it. This isn’t even the only time we see this in this quest/afterwards. Lotus outright confirms it herself (“I will not let it devour one instant of my pain. Not even Ballas. Not even the Jade Light.”), and in doing so, is also showing us how she’s dealt with the events of the prior storylines. She’s gone through a series of extremely traumatic events, and she still has those painful memories, but she’s not going to succumb to the Indifference, even if It promises to take that away. She’s been hurt, yes, but she is healing, and she’s finally in a place where she can actually do so as herself. That doesn’t mean it’s easy for her to ignore the voice that’s calling to her —the voice that only she can hear— but she’s determined to. I’m curious if the voice-lines after the quest are different if a player had chosen Margulis or Natah instead of Lotus after the New War, though.

I find it very interesting that Lotus calls the Drifter ‘my champion’. I just really enjoy the fact that she definitively sees the Operator and the Drifter as two separate people, as opposed to ‘her child’, and ‘her child but older’, because I feel like that fact could have certainly been a cause of a bit of discomfort and a learning curve for both her and the Drifter after the New War.

Now, onto the 1999 portion of the quest, which, even as short as it was, was quite interesting. It was really weird to be in the Mall again and not hear ‘Party of Your Lifetime’ playing or see other Tenno dancing around the stage (like how it was during TennoCon). It was quite eery, and I love it. Also, we got to see Kalymos again, so that’s a plus.

All in all, this quest answered a lot of my questions about how the game is going to transition to 1999 (and even answered questions that I didn’t know I had). However, I am slightly (read: very) concerned at the same time, mainly because of the line with Lotus saying “If I become something you do not recognize, do not mourn”. I feel like that’s potentially foreshadowing something…They don’t usually put lines like that in without reason. Maybe I’m just reading too far into that…but I suppose we’ll see when 1999 comes out.

Anywho, another thing that I wasn’t expecting but am really glad that we got was the continued acknowledgement of Lotus/Natah/Margulis being a system. This happened not once, but twice (to my knowledge), and I think it’s really great that they didn’t just disregard the whole “I am not one” thing from The New War after we made our choice between the three of them. It’s really nice to see that that wasn’t just a one-off line, especially as we continue to get more and more moments where the game references them.

This is already way longer than it probably should be, but what can I say? I like well-written characters, and this game has so many of them. I’ve definitely forgotten some things that I’d wanted to put in this post, but ah well.

[intuitive-revelations]

Some notes on Tales of the TARDIS: The Pyramids of Mars (some finale trailer spoilers included)

We don't get as much interesting stuff in the framing device here, for obvious reasons, but there's still some stuff to talk about.

Surprised they still used the stock backgroud / TARDIS cgi for this Tales of the TARDIS episode. I would have thought they would have something new/more specific to the next episode.

I'm very interested in the decision to have Fifteen and Ruby here. Out of universe I get it, what with Elisabeth Sladen being gone, and who knows if Tom would have able/willing to do something with a different actor (and who would you bring in even if he were? Luke?). But the in-universe placement is interesting. I would have assumed it was just a framing device, but we know we're going to see the Memory TARDIS in the finale. I'm guessing there will be a scene with them in the Memory TARDIS where Fifteen briefly explains what Sutekh is, and the Tales of the TARDIS bookends will basically be a deleted scene that fits into that?

There's actually some evidence for this. As we zoom in, the TARDIS doors seem to be open, which might fit with those trailer scenes of the Doctor looking out at Earth, plus the one of him screaming. However, Mel was there in the trailer, so I'm guessing we're going to be in and out of the Memory TARDIS quite a bit next episode.

I noticed those subtle camera glances from Ncuti as he's talking about Four and Sarah Jane :)

People have already commented on it, but I like the anti-colonialist reframing of the story.

As for the omnibus story itself, the editing was generally good. I don't know the original serial enough to spot everything they did, but I did kinda miss the Victoria reference at the beginning.

Interesting decision to replace the Time Corridor effects with the modern Time Vortex. Kinda makes sense in some ways, plus probably helps explain how Sutekh ends up in the Void without needing other stories. Super missed opportunity not using the graphics from the Season promo photos though, which people pointed out as being very reminiscent of the time tunnel.

As someone always eager, usually in vain, for 'canon' to fit together, I'm super intrigued by the mention of Sutekh having "evolved into a Titan" since Pyramids. (Interestingly, the iPlayer titles capitalised this. I found it a bit interesting, since in the context of gods, it immediately bring to mind Greek mythology, but that would be an odd choice to combine with the Egyptian/Christian inspired Sutekh.)

(Actually small critique of the iPlayer subtitling. I don't really need accessibility features, but had them on as I didn't want to miss anything. The new Doctor Who content has made some big bounds with accessibility, with the BSL and audio description options, but I was a bit disappointed with some of the subtitling line changes from the actual spoken words, even if I get why some lines might have been changed for clarity from Four's meandering language. It had quite a big effect on the dialogue though, in some places. I can see what people on here mean when they advocate for accurate subtitling.)

Anyway, back to the evolution thing. I hope this might be explained or eluded to next episode, given the decision to re-air an episode with such a distinctly different Sutekh.

Between the time tunnel leading to the far future, plus the fact he originates from the Dark Times, maybe the idea of him being the 'oldest one' isn't as crazy as I thought? After all, beings like the Toymaker, if they are the 'Time Lords' of the previous universe, are presumably only around 14 billion years old in the present day, if their original species had lifespans similar to the current Time Lords.

That being said, Four says he 'lived for 7000 years'. No idea if that's about his lifetime up until this point, or how long the Doctor thinks Sutekh survived in the Time Tunnel. If the prior, it's possible it doesn't include his time imprisoned. If the latter, maybe that's how long he was stuck in the tunnel before he escaped to the Void, with his disappearance causing the Doctor to assume he died?

Meanwhile, maybe the "Mother/Father/Other" thing is more about taking that kind of role in providing understanding of N-Space to the Great Old Ones, like in the Titan Comics storyline, than an actual parental connection? I don't know, that one's going to both me if we don't get more information tonight...

The only other possibility, which admittedly I kind of like, is that Sutekh is somehow an incarnation of The Beast (in the same way the Doctor might be the Other/Red Guardian), who really is old enough to be such a thing. If so, maybe he's awakened to that power/knowledge since last we saw him?

[faneliansficaloh]

A Lifetime of Happiness

(Chapter 1) (Chapter 2) (Chapter 3) (Chapter 4) (Chapter 5)

This is Chapter 6

Notes

----------

18 November 1817

Dear Penelope,

We have a very small garden in the back of the house. There is a variety of plants in there but, seen as I am no botanist, I am not able to identify them all. I have been pressed by Oliver, though, as he seems to have a very keen interest in nature and wants to know the names for every living thing in the world, Amy just wants to know the names of the flowers. Sir Phillip is of course to blame for this interest, as he gifted them books with plant illustrations last year, which they seem to have re-discovered now.

It turns out we have a food garden. One of the trees produces an odd fruit, shaped like a pear but has a thick, rough skin. I am told that when it’s ripe the innards can be mashed into a type of paste that is supposed to be good, but I cannot fathom how such a thing can be edible at all. There are also potatoes, peppers and, of course, tomatoes.

You must see that I now shall endeavour to ensure we get the best crop of tomatoes possible, it is only right.

Yours, Colin.

1814 – A kind of fear.

The all important night of the ball had come and they were all gathered in the ballroom, exquisitely decorated with the most beautiful flowers, for it was expected to be the backdrop for the Viscount Bridgerton’s betrothal to his intended, since no proposal had been made in the previous days since the Sharmas had arrived. Clearly no effort or expense had been spared as it showed in every single, exquisite detail.

Colin was surveying the room, when his eyes found Penelope. She was standing next to Eloise, as expected, talking rather animatedly. He smiled – Eloise was probably complaining about something, and Penelope would gently tease her about it. He couldn’t stop noticing that Penelope looked rather pleasant in her pink dress.

He had always known Penelope was not entirely unappealing. Even though most of the time the way she dressed and wore her hair were odd choices that didn’t help advertise it, he had always thought there was something pleasing in her large blue eyes. But that night her hair was a little different, and the colour and cut of the dress made her look rather fetching. It was an odd, almost disturbing thought, so he averted his gaze immediately. She was his little sister’s friend, so he shouldn’t be going back to look at her again and noticing how she had distractedly bit her lip in a most alluring way. He took a sip from his drink and directed his full attention to his wife.

Sir Phillip arrived with the full determination of only making an appearance and returning home as soon as possible. He had used a carriage this time, he would not be detained again. He was not even sure why he had chosen to attend. He told himself, of course, that he was merely returning the attentions he received the night of the storm. Lady Bridgerton had been most gracious and it had been far too long ongoing that the Cranes kept slighting the Bridgerton’s invitations to what seemed to be an annual event. As Sir Phillip made his way into the ballroom, looking for one of the many faces he had been introduced to just days prior, he noticed the young ladies he had conversed with during dinner, so he walked in their direction.

Penelope noticed him and told Eloise “Looks like Sir Phillip decided to accept your mother’s invitation after all”

Eloise turned to look in the direction of Penelope’s nod “Oh no, no, why is he coming towards us?”

“Maybe he wants to ask you for a dance?” Penelope teased her friend, making her wince. “Oh, Eloise, you have to admit he is rather interesting. Odd mannered, perhaps, but interesting. And he has read the books you keep talking so much about, you may have a suitable partner for meaningful conversation, as you’ve so often put it”

“I hardly think a ballroom is the place to discuss such matters, Penelope” Eloise scoffed at the prospect.

“Good evening, Miss Featherington, Miss Bridgerton”

“Sir Phillip, good evening. I am glad you decided to join us” Penelope greeted him.

“I surprised myself, to be honest, but I thought I should not keep slighting Lady Bridgerton any longer, after all of the kindness I received the other night. It is however a much larger gathering that I expected and I am yet to find her to pay my respects”

“Well, she’s not far off, I’m sure” Said Eloise “She never is far from me at these things”

“Miss Featherington, is that Miss Thompson, I mean, Mrs Bridgerton, standing beside Mr. Bridgerton?” He asked Penelope, who had to stand on her toes and extend her neck a bit to see over the crowd to where he was indicating.

“It is, indeed” It might be best to keep Sir Phillip away from her. Where were the more social Bridgertons when you needed them? Eloise was certainly not to be depended on for a situation as this. But she did not have to wait for long, because just as Eloise had predicted, along came Lady Bridgerton with a potential suitor for Eloise in tow.

“Sir Phillip! I’m so delighted you decided to join us!”

“Lady Bridgerton, it is my honour. You have designed a most charming evening”

“Allow me to introduce you, Lord Morrison. This is my daughter Miss Eloise Bridgerton, Miss Penelope Featherington and Sir Phillip Crane”

“An honour to make your acquaintance, ladies. Crane, it’s good to see you after so long!”

“How do you do, Morrison” Sir Phillip was courteous but not very welcoming of the other man.

“Have you met before?” Asked Violet with a surprised smile.

“We coincided briefly at Cambridge” Sir Phillip clasped his hands behind his back and his posture stiffened, which Penelope noticed as a sign of discomfort with the other man.

“Miss Eloise, would you do me the honour?” Eloise clearly panicked but she had been trapped and reluctantly joined Lord Morrison for a dance.

Violet then smiled pleased and cast a significant glance at Sir Phillip, directing him to Penelope. She didn’t have to actually say anything.

“Miss Featherington, would you like to dance as well?”

“You don’t have to – I mean, of course!” She had tried to spare Sir Phillip additional discomfort as it was glaringly apparent he did not really wish to dance at all, but corrected herself after receiving a mortal glance from their hostess.

“So, I take it you and Lord Morrison are not friends?” She asked once they were on the dance floor.

“Oh, absolutely not. In fact, I should warn you to stay away from him, Miss Featherington. I cannot disclose my reasons, but I hope you can trust me, even if we haven’t been acquainted for long”

“I assure you I am in no danger, Sir Phillip, but I appreciate your concern” She found it endearing that he would think it necessary to warn her, as if Lord Morrison – or anyone – would ever set their sights on her.

“I see you are very discerning” Did he really think it was a matter of her choosing to stay away from the man and not the other way around? Did he really think her attractive enough? “but what about your friend?” He said, trying to see the other couple.

“I will relay your warning as soon as I have an opportunity... but I don’t think it will be necessary at all” She said as she saw Eloise abruptly leaving the man in the middle of the dance floor, causing a scene.

Violet seemed rattled over the incident, so Colin went to her, with Marina following close behind him. He was worried for his sister as he saw her leave the ballroom “Is Eloise alright?”

“Yes. I just seem to have miscalculated” Violet’s face was still red as Eloise had clearly upset her, which Colin could not tolerate.

“I’ll go talk to her” He moved towards the stairs to go after his sister, but his mother stopped him.

“Let her be, I think she wants to be alone right now. I do not want her to feel under attack”

“Very well.” He decided he would stay near his mother in the meantime, but would have to talk to Eloise later. He loved his sister, but she had a tendency to overlook the needs and feelings of others, her own emotions barrelling through everyone else’s.

“Who was that man, that Eloise was dancing with?” asked Marina “I couldn’t see him, he got away so quickly”

“Lord Morrison” answered Violet, still mortified

“Oh! I’m glad for her, then” Violet’s eyes opened wide

“What do you mean, dear?”

“He’s not a good man, Lady Bridgerton. One of the maids at Romney Hall” Marina gave her a significant look and knew no more needed to be said.

“Good heavens! That explains why Sir Phillip was not pleased to see him” She looked around as if trying to make sure the man was gone for good.

“Sir Phillip is here?” Colin was equally surprised as his wife.

“Yes, he is. He is dancing with Penelope now as a matter of fact” This seemed to shift her mood almost immediately, but his Mother’s pleased and almost mischievous smile did not sit well with him.

“Wonderful!” Said Marina, rather sarcastically. “Now we’ll truly never get rid of him”

“It is just one dance, you exaggerate” Colin noted.

“Hmm We’ll see” Violet declared.

“I’ve danced with her many times, it doesn’t mean anything” Violet stiffened almost imperceptibly upon hearing that.

“But you’re a married man. He is not” Marina was almost laughing.

“Oh dear!” Violet whispered with a little nervous laugh and almost imperceptibly rolled her eyes and made a quick but graceful exit after muttering “Excuse me”. It was almost painful how oblivious all her children were in matters of the heart.

“He is not looking to marry anytime soon, he told me as much” He said, trying to put the matter to rest.

“Perhaps that may change, what if he falls in love?” Marina insisted.

He felt oddly disturbed, a kind of fear crept inside him, at the prospect of Sir Phillip falling in love with Penelope “You are right, he might.” He couldn’t find a single reason why he wouldn’t. Penelope was, after all, very loveable.

Chapter 7

[caffeinefafnir]

TL;dr: how a simple hobby keeps me from collapsing (bc we really don't pay enough attention to mental health as a society)

So earlier this year I was writting a fanfic and that's been like, the only anchor to sanity I've had for a long while. I started out on a whim one night and spewed out around 10 pages in one night. I've started at 11pm and stayed up till 5am writting. It's been such a fucking nasty year (bc all the shit started last November actually) where I've been struggling with family issues, health issues, being unemployed and struggling financially, and then the feeling of being left behind when my partner got a job and I didn't, and a lage etc. Suddenly in May I got posessed by this supernatural impulse to write a fanfic after what felt like a lifetime (around 13 years). Days turned into months, one draft became 5 separate stories abt the same characters, I discovered what whump was thus rediscovering something I was really adept to without even realizing it, followed closely several challenges althougth never pressured myself to participate (bc deadlines and I don't get along) and on top of that I started a completely new story of a genre I had never dreamt of exploring before.

Around June I was writting a super emotional scene of my side fanfic. My fave character had attempted suicide and failed, and it was a super heavy scene where she talked about this with a friend in the most nonchalant way (at first) and he was completely shocked and devastated. I was writting this at a cafe, my favorite one, and had to make a real effort to keep a straigth face while typing out bc I tend to act out the feelings as I describe them and my eyes were getting all red and wattery. But everything was fine and I got the full scene toghether. And... I felt so incredibly lighter and happier after that.

I've been trying to find an explanation for it since then. I've been battling depression since a long time now, 10 years, but I hadn't felt suicidal since a long long time ago. But I know too damn well the feeling of the symptoms of depression going away, and BOY what I felt was like a MIRACLE! The floating sensation? Just knowing everything is going to be better? Damn I missed that. I had felt it before a few times in prior years when something significantly good happened, when I went regularly to therapy, etc.

The weirdest part is that things weren't even particularly bad at that point, and even when they were the absollute worst around February I hadn't seriously thought about suicide not even once. It was more like homicidal rage at that point haha, but nothing about harming myself. I keep thinking about it ever since, how optimistic I was for the next month or so before my mood got worse due to environmental reasons. And I still went to that part over and over again to correct, add details and overall finishing the rest of the fic but this proved to be a difficult feat since I never could get myself into the same mood again.

And I'm like... what?? Why did this particular scene caused that blissful effect on me? I've never ever been in that exact situation, surely I fantasized about it (we all do at some point) and I know I'm far from cured of the depression for I still feel some of the indicators of its presence, but the change in me since I wrote those pages was explosive and intoxicating. Maybe I was channeling everything through my blorbo in ways I didn't knew I could, maybe it's just the fact that she got listened at without judging or being accused of faking it/being a failure/blowing it out of proportion, maybe bc she was feeling as lonely and unseen as I currently feel to the point you can disappear for days and nobody would notice (or at least that's what you tell to yourself)

I'm worried that if I tell all this to my therapist she'll institutionalize me haha. For real. I dunno what they normally do in these cases lol. Also I don't want to tell her yet that I write fanficiton since I´m not ready to explain an Xgen-er what is it and why my generation hype so much abt it

[likesunsetorange]

thought i'd share the snippet from this post! i think if I share the context of what part of the fic this scene would be from it might spoil the fic? but i also feel like we talked a lot about the plot, and the overall romcom-esque vibes of the fic make it a bit predictable overall LOL so you might honestly be able to guess what happens next tbh! but anyways, hope y'all enjoy this little snippet!

Adrenaline floods through him, his legs restless beneath him, only resulting in him further squirming on his barstool. His lips purse around a glass straw, anything to distract him for the time being; sips of a strawberry probiotic drink Mikasa forced him to buy pleasantly flood his tastebuds as he tries to ward off the energy within him. His fingers drum against the cool marble of the counter, phone in hand, staring at every single one of his unanswered text messages. 

bestieeeee it’s study day I know you missed me just a bit (we saw each other the other day) 3:08 PM

won’t be late for once I promise we’re meeting up today right? or my place ;) kidding lol, but anyways 7 sharp, whatever we decide to do lol just lmk 3:09 PM

mikasaaa 4:46 PM

? 5:46 PM

I know you told me you used to hate me and all but I thought we were at least friends now so you don’t really have to ignore me all day maybe you’re catching up on all that missed sleep or something idk but either way, I’ll call you here in a bit don’t ignore my calls 6:22 PM

wait…. is THEEEE mikasa ackerman gonna be late for the first time ever?  oh this is gonna be great so so so great 6:25 PM

It’s not often Eren is given even an inkling of a chance to feel smug about anything—Mikasa would never allow for it. With her snarky remarks, no-nonsense attitude, and little room in their schedule for mischief of any kind, Eren has never even allowed thoughts of any kind to cross his mind. But today, she’s given him more than an ample opportunity to finally cash in his bragging rights. 

Maybe she’s right that he’s a bit childish, that he takes his teasing a bit too far sometimes, and he probably is a bit aloof—a word he’d never been described before as prior to meeting Mikasa—but in this instance, he thinks he’s allowed this one indulgence of diablerie. And he knows that, in part, he does it a bit to get a rise out of her, watching the way her cheeks puff up, crimson spreading across the porcelain of her cheeks, her brows furrowing the same way every time, just before she finally rolls her eyes, huffing out an exasperated, “Eren.” 

The corner of his lip quirks up at the thought, unable to resist the chuckle that escapes him. He ponders the potential quips he can greet her with once he calls, determining which would be worthy enough of this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Maybe keep it simple and be blunt— “You’re late.” Maybe even greet her with something using the millions of inside jokes they’ve acquired over the semester. Or maybe because he’s Eren, and she’s Mikasa, he’ll settle for something out of the park completely, leaving the both of them a blushing mess like always.

It's almost unbecoming of him, how, despite her (almost borderline obnoxious) penchant for color-coded schedules, ever-loving desire to boss him around, and sometimes snappy attitude, his mind is constantly consumed by her. Because despite all these seemingly disagreeable qualities about Mikasa, they’re the same exact things that transfix him about her. It’s her dedication and work ethic that made Eren notice Mikasa to begin with, and even if it manifests in… peculiar ways, it’s something that he’s always admired about her.

[sabaramonds]

if anyone is wondering if im going to do an analysis of double & mikoto i uhhh need to find more stuff to read in english about psychiatric care and dissociative disorder patients in japan but given what ive found so far im like. well this is what i expected from milgram ill be honest having read the voice drama tl and watched the mv 8573485 times (omg hanae natsukis vocals) i do have a few thoughts. mentions of CSA and childhood abuse below as well as medical abuse - mikoto2 ("john" LMFAOOOO) claims he was born from mikotos workplace stress and implies that mikoto did not have DID prior to that; DID is only developed in childhood, but its common to live your life without knowing about it until adulthood (the average age at diagnosis is 29-35 years as of a 2007 paper on sciencedirect i just double checked; according to a 2009 piece from the national library of medicine, the average patient for a diagnosis is a woman of about 30 years old and a retroactive view of the patients medical history and symptoms tend to reveal a lifetime of DID symptoms) so basically im saying that its equally possible deco and yamanaka are unaware of this or mikoto2 is lying his ass off because why would he want to tell some amnesiac teenage prison warden btw the reason i exist is because mikoto was abused as a child. why do you think our mom divorced our dad. even if es likely researched it themself and is probably aware of the statistical likelihood that mikoto experienced long term childhood abuse, why would mikoto2 say it...especially if that abuse was sexual in nature - according to this video recorded by a japanese man (a recovering hikkikomori who experienced forced hospitalization in the past), the 2017 statistics for mental hospital inpatients was that there were 280,000 patients at the time, and 170,000 of those were hospitalized for over a year. 90,000 had been in hospital care for more than 5 years and 26,000 had been in care for 20 years. he also references that most psychiatric care facilities are private in nature, not government-run, so they prioritize the amount of patients they receive in a short period of time because it earns them more profits (another video i watched compared this practice to a mcdonalds burger vs a proper restaurant; make more at a cheaper cost). likewise, long term care facilities dont want to let their patients go easily, because even if families or the patient cant afford to cover the cost, insurance or the government social security system will cover it. a combination of the psychiatric business as its run and the broader cultural attitude towards mental health (in some cases, families do not want their shame to be public, and actively do not want their mentally ill relative to be released from the hospital; if this is the case, its more likely for a patient to be forcibly hospitalized long term without anyone outside to advocate for their release) so im kind of like. hm. (see saw motion with my hand) as far as rep goes i think its kinda middling, especially because mikoto2 is the Alter Who Kills People For Some Reason trope, which always sucks and basically every journal, article, or vlog ive looked into from people with DID has said "god please stop with the murder alter trope please please", but considering the source material i think its...well, its honestly better than what i was expecting. but milgram is designed to be abstract to a certain extent and were still missing information, so who knows. maybe yamanaka and deco have something else up their sleeve regarding mikoto. but yeah i couldnt find anything specifically regarding patients with DID (or related disorders) but i did only poke around for like 2 hours in the middle of the night soooo ill come back to it and that concludes my findings on this topic for today. stay tuned for my next mikoto fic installment or whatever

[humbledragon669]

Self-indulgent intro

OK, here goes… TL;DR summary of why I’m about to do what I’m about to do:

Watched Good Omens Season 1 years ago.

Watched both seasons of Good Omens a few months after the release of Season 2. Brainrot affliction commences.

First fanfic written after being kept awake by the nagging question of what might happen to an angel if they committed a deadly sin (link to fanfic is here).

Joined Tumblr after finding a couple of really interesting meta-theories. And GIF sets…

Second fic written after being kept awake by the singular image of yellow eyes in a darkened alley (that one turned into 15000 words – link here).

Multiple ideas for other supplementary fics now crowding my brain after completing the second fic.

“Research” required for the supplementary fic ideas, including an analysis of each episode and the book.

In summary, I will be using Tumblr as a platform to sum up my ideas and thoughts on the research process, followed up with the links to the fics themselves as a) an attempt to satisfy the incessant brainrot caused by whatever crack it is that Neil et al injected into this show and b) something to do to pass the time before Season 3 comes out, which quite frankly feels like a lifetime away right now.

I will caveat this whole process with a few of points:

“Restraint” was only my second ever fanfic that I wrote (the first wasn’t even about Good Omens, but Our Flag Means Death), and “Dangerous Liaisons” my second.

I had never written for pleasure prior to discovering these shows and never thought it was something that I could even do. I am afflicted with a delightful combination that so many other fanfic authors seem to have – imposter syndrome, low self-esteem in my work, and a craving for my work to be liked to the point of having over-achiever syndrome.

My episode write-ups are not intended to be full in-depth analyses.  Sure, there will be some subtextual investigation going on, and yes, I did watch some parts of some episodes on a frame-by-frame basis to catch some of micro-expressions.  I have not gone into minute detail like colour representation, though I am aware that some people have and have some interesting theories on that basis.  Let’s just say I’m not there… yet.  Maybe after my fics are done and I still have months to go until S3 release.

I am a hetero cisgender woman and whilst I support the LGBTQI+ community wholly, I do not feel that my life experiences qualify me to make any sort of statements about what this show means to that community.  As such, I have sought to keep my write-ups and stories as neutral as possible and have made no changes to the pronouns or genders of the characters from what the show and book have provided. (Side note, I wasn’t even sure whether to put this point in and am worried that it will cause someone offence. I welcome alternative or opposing points of view, please let me know if this particular point is in any way offensive or ignorant.)

Some of the write up content will be analytical, other parts may be more of a more note-taking nature. There’s no intended formal structure to them at this point in time!

Lastly, I am not a Dr. Who fan. I am aware that Omens is littered with references to the Dr. Who franchise – the likelihood is that I will have missed them unless they are blatantly obvious (hello SID RAT).

Thanks for reading!�� Work will now commence on the episode write up for S1E1 – “In the Beginning”.  I would love to hear from you if you think there might be something I’ve missed or misinterpreted, or if you feel like there’s more to be said, or even just to say hello!  I’d love it some of my fics were to get a few more reads – go gently with me on the criticism there, I’m still very new to the whole thing!

EDIT: I started the first episode write up and quickly discovered that one blog post per episode might have been a little ambitious! I'm going to try and break it down into time periods within episodes instead. once I have a couple under my belt, I'll start a master post.

[flyonthewallmedstudent]

Disseminated Strongyloides and Hyperinfection

If you've ever rotated through any type of rotation that involves an immunocompromised host, your boss will have obsessed over the same few bugs. Including the parasite strongyloides. Aka threadworm.

They will never forget it, nor will they let you. They all seem to have that one case of disseminated disease that got missed and ended badly. Of all the bugs in the world to screen prior to starting significant immunosuppression, this is one of them, along side HIV, viral hepatitis and TB.

It's endemic to tropical environments in the developing world.

The concern is hyperinfection and disseminated disease in the case of the immunocompromised, in which case the mortality is 90%.

Hence the universal acceptance of screening for it in serology (I.e. IgG) in patients about to be immunocompromised on long term or high dose steroids. I.e. solid organ transplants, BMTs, rheumatology patients needing strong long term immunosuppression etc.

image source: NEJM, Case report ssx: rash and diarrhoea after starting steroids for malignant spinal cord compression (common practice), preceded by intermittent eosinophilia (the WCCs that are directed against parasites etc.)

The how: As part of it's infective lifestyle, the larva penetrate the skin, and via skin & the mucosal layers, it enters the blood stream, travels to the right heart and into the lungs. As the host coughs, they swallow the larvae and it enters the GI. Does that sound completely skin crawling and eerie?

Clinical manifestations: Pulmonary - eosinophilic pneumonitis (the WCCs directed at parasites increase and are the sources of inflammation in the lungs), alveolar bleeding from larval damage (yikes). On CT imaging, essentially you just see ground glass changes - non specific findings of inflammation (which can be caused by a huge array of things, of which, disseminated strongyloides would actually be the last on your list if you're not in an endemic area...). classic presentation in any GG inflammation is SOB, sometimes cough.

GI: larvae mature, embed into the intestinal mucosa and produce eggs. The eggs perpetuate the lifecycle and the host gets diarrhoea, abdominal pain etc.

Skin - rash, from dissemination of the larvae but also at the penetration site (may go unnoticed).

So then what's hyperinfection? T cell mediated immunity is suppressed in immunosuppression either by broadly suppresive steroids (dexamethasone, prednisolone etc.) Or transplant patients on therapy directed at the T cells, in order to prevent them rejecting their organs (maybe I'm still doing this, I'll make a blog on rejection).

Hyperinflation...wait.. hyperinflation..freudian slip but equally bad.

I mean hyperinfection results from the immune system leaving the worms to proliferate unchecked. "Excessive" worms are seen in usual affected organs - skin, lungs and gut. So expect an excess in clinical presentation, bloody diarrhoea, weight loss, malabsorption etc.

Disseminated disease occurs when it spreads outside the 'usual' routes of skin, lungs, gut and the numbers lead to catastrophic damage. Respiratory failure, AKI, shock, DIC, meningitis. Can spread widely to liver, heart, etc.

As added flavour, it can also lead to gut bugs causing bacteraemia. E.g. Ecoli, strep bovis (so look for malignancy as well as Strongyloides).

Given how devastating severe disease is, it's common practice for any immunocompromised host with eosinophilia and who's traveled to the subtropics/tropics to be screened. I've seen some really paranoid ones will send off serology on seeing eosinophilia.

As the bug can autoinfect a host, expect it to be there for a lifetime once infected.

Chronic/mild forms of the disease present as well, chronic GI symptoms (heart burn, anorexia, reflux, abdo pain, diarrhoea) and is often mistaken for IBD. Hence the importance of scopes and biopsies given therapy for IBD is immunosuppression.

investigations: easy pick up on biopsy if scoped or bronch'd. otherwise, serology. Suspect it on seeing eosinophilia. Stool mCS also an option. in chronic disease - mildly elevated eosinophilia and elevated IgE

Treatment of strongyloides vs hyperinfection: ivermectin or albendazole. Ivermectin is so infamous now post pandemic.

Issues: serology can take time to return, if in doubt, I've see some consultants/attendings empirically treat with ivermectin because the risk of mortality in hyperinfection is so high. But only in cases where patients are from or travelled to endemic areas. It's considered low risk if they have done neither.

Sources (will always aim for free ones)

Gastroenterology & Hepatology Journal 2011

NEJM Case report

BMJ Case reports

CDC

Give me a shout if you've treated this!