#//we're looking at new treatment options now so

[mortoinquieto]

//

[velvet-paradox]

Pornstar!König preview

"Hullo?" Your tired voice asked, flinging your other hand over your eyes. There was some shuffling and ruffling sounds, someone was shouting in the background and Rhiannon by Fleetwood Mac could be faintly heard through the chaos.

"This better be fucking important."

"Y/N! Oh thank fuck, I need a favor." It was Tammy, your agent sounding frantic as she cursed at someone nearby.

"Now?"

"Yes now! The new girl must've been nervous as shit to film because she showed up fucking trashed, we can't use her." Tammy huffed into the phone. "We're losing time and money!"

"What's that got to do with me, Tam?"

"An I.O.U. I swear I'll make it up to you if you can get your ass up and ready to film. I can get you a car in ten minutes." Tammy was good people, always put you first even if her brash tone and stony glare had others hightailing it out of her office. Sometimes they were crying; men and women.

"Who's shoot is it?" You asked with a huff as you sadly came to the conclusion that you were not going back to bed at 2:45AM. It was a Wednesday night for fucks sake!

"The Colonel." Tammy's voice flinched.

"Seriously?"

"Come on please Y/N, be sweet for me ok? I'll do your laundry for a week… no a month! Dry cleaning too, you name it you got it. Plus," you could hear the click of a lighter followed by a deep inhale, no doubt another cigarette burning between her chapped but painted lips. "I'll even give you a "$300 advance."

"You do know we're not on speaking terms, right?"

Tammy snorted. "What? Since when?"

"Since Going Down in the Valley! He really gave me an earful on how I should've done better and stretched my jaw before coming to set. So I told him in not so many words that I'm not one of his little soldiers that he can boss around. He didn't like that too much."

You said with a sigh, remembering the stern look he gave down his nose, over his entire head covering. His crossed over massive arms and tilted his head with a click of his teeth. He really didn't like it when you mirrored his posture.

"We'll figure it out when you get here, yeah? For me please, Y/N? You know your my best girl and honestly you're really the only one who can thoroughly handle him." Tammy swindled her way into your veins and answer.

It was tempting. A little too tempting as you weighed your options.

Rent was due, the fridge was a little lacking, you needed gas… She practically squealed with delight as you agreed to the offer, hanging up the phone to take a quick shower and grab your to-go bag before the car arrived.

….

Once on the set, or what was today's mansion and master bedroom of choice, Tammy had rushed up to you with a make-up bag and a flash-in-the-pan hug. She thrusted the two page script to your chest. After curling your lashes and sweeping on some gloss, you slipped into the slinky dress as you went over the obscure dialogue. It was something different.

Something soft and sweet. A couples anniversary, some heavy petting on the ride home, taunts of playfulness. Intrigue. Lust.

Not the rough stuff you were used to when it came to shooting with the Colonel.

Your strappy heels clicked along the freshly polished floors, boom mics and camera men moved around you like puffs of smoke, Tammy who was indeed smoking was frustrated with the lighting.

You paused when you saw him.

König was dressed in a nice and well tailored suit, the jacket held his bulky arms tightly, the button down was checkered and stretched to the very last thread. He looked good. Even though you were giving him the silent treatment as of late, you could appreciate fine art when you saw it.

Your body thrummed when König adjusted his signature face covering hood, messing with the hem before he turned around and saw you for the first time.

You opened your mouth to say something when the bigger, much bigger man spoke.

"Oh no. No no. Nein nein nein!" The Colonel threw up his hands and headed for the master bedroom door.

"Colonel, wait." Tammy shouted, tossing her cigarette into the sink with sizzle, chasing after him and touching his forearm.

"I am not doing a scene with her again." He stated and pointed down at the feather haired agent, he did give you another look though before tearing his arm out of her grip. "Not until she apologizes."

"Well nice to see you too, sir." You snorted and leaned against the built in vanity, fluffing your hair a bit more, fixing your necklace.

"Watch it!"

Tammy put her hands up between the pair of you, the frames of her glasses slipping down the slope of her button nose. You looked up at your co-star, with a head tilt of your own.

"Come on you two, what happened to your chemistry? You guys made us all fucking rich when we shot Tits For That! Can't you put whatever the hell you've got goin' on on the back burner to make some dough?" Tammy made the money gesture with her two fingers in your face. "Who doesn't like money? Think of how much fun we had shooting Bunker Bunny 7!"

"I refuse to work with such a petulant little brat like Velveteen." He huffed, the mask billowing slightly. "You're mature enough to get railed on film but not apologize? Make sense, bitte!"

"Oh, here we go." You sighed and rolled your eyes, truly one of the only things König couldn't stomach unless he was fucking the brat or sass out of someone.

"Can't you two please be adults?"

"So I gagged a little too hard, big deal?! You have women choking on that thing twice a week but oh no, I do it once and make it sloppy and suddenly I'm the only one being scolded." You snarked, a few of the crew members made a noise and moved out of view. König scoffed and Tammy put her head in her hands, thumbs going to ease the headache you two were throwing at her.

"I did not scold you. I tried to help you and you then spat on my boots remember? Real mature."

"Too bad."

"Children! Please, we're not getting any younger and we're losing time here. Can you both please just try and get along so we can get this done and go home."

"I was at home, remember?" You made a face and then apologized to Tam, it wasn't her fault.

No taglist as of yet; lemme know! :)

[smusherina]

yard work - chapter 3 (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her.

chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 4

"So, have you heard of the new girl?" Regina asked, twirling a lock of hair on her finger.

You were still sitting on the couch several hours later. It was beginning to get dark.

"Caty Heron or something?"

"Cady, yes. What do you think of her?" Regina bit her bottom lip, sucking it and chewing at it in her mouth. Back when you were younger, her mom would've chastised her. Mrs George was lax about a lot of things, but she could not stand fidgeting. Nowadays, though, you doubted she had the heart to say anything negative to her daughter.

"I..." You tilted your head, thinking. "I don't really think of her. We're in the same calc class and she seems smart. Talks to Aaron a lot."

"Does she?" Regina narrowed her eyes and huffed. "I thought so."

"What? Don't tell me you're still hung up on Aaron Samuels. C'mon." You scoffed. "That dude, pretty as he is-" You knocked at your head. "All fluff, no substance. Hollow."

"Oh, because you would know so much about guys." Regina crossed her arms and stared at you petulantly.

"Yes, I would. I'm practically one of them." You shrugged nonchalantly. "By the way, shouldn't you get home?"

Regina didn't answer and just looked at you. You looked back, unsure of what she was thinking. You glanced around, wondering if you'd missed something.

"You're still- I mean, you're... A lesbian." She said slowly as if it were a curse word.

You laughed before answering. "Yes, Regina, I am still a lesbian. Just like I told you I was back then." You frowned. "Is there, like, a problem?"

"No." She said simply, but it didn't seem particularly truthful. "You don't know about what happened with Janis, then?"

"No, I just know she had to switch schools. Why, was it something you did?"

"No." Again, didn't seem too truthful. "I don't have a problem with you being a lesbian."

Clearly, she was uncomfortable talking about it. Still, something was off. You were almost certain Regina had had something to do with Janis leaving. She was probably lying to you.

"You're not going home for dinner then." Better to drop it for now. It wouldn't do either of you any good to push her. "Will your dad be mad?"

"As if he even notices I'm gone," She rolled her eyes, settling more comfortably on the couch. "He's always on the phone."

"I have frozen pizzas we could pop in the oven."

"I'm not eating that processed shit. We're ordering in."

"Reg, I can't order takeout 'til dad sends me more money."

"I'm paying, dummy, don't even worry about it." She pushed off the couch and walked to the kitchen. You trailed after her. "Where are the menus?"

"There should be some in the cabinet over there."

The evening turned to night with you two on the couch, chatting and eating pizza. The TV was turned on eventually. Adult Swim was playing some anime about cowboys in space, but neither of you was really watching.

You'd missed her so much. You didn't like thinking about it much, but that was the truth. You'd missed her for even longer than the two years you'd been officially cut off from her life. She'd started pulling away long before the silent treatment began. You didn't like thinking about how much it had hurt, how you'd felt your world go bleak when she rejected you. You'd never been one for confrontation, that was Regina's job, so talking to her about the why and how of it all had never felt like an option.

You'd eventually gotten the hint. And now, after all this time, after she had left you so easily, you were letting her back in just as easily. As if you were back in that time, sitting in the sandbox peacefully making castles when she came up behind you, pulled at one of your pigtails, and demanded you share your buckets and shovel. You were helpless against her force.

There was probably something deeply unhealthy about your friendship. She was probably only coming back because it was convenient for her. She wasn't interested in making amends- hell, she probably didn't even think there was anything to amend, in the first place.

This had been the way you two had been since forever. Her ploughing through anybody in her way, you clinging to her as she went, just as much of a victim and a perpetrator.

The Regina you missed was the impression of a girl, braces on her teeth, grass stains on her sundress, and laughter on her lips. The Regina that perhaps, maybe, probably was still hidden somewhere in her, but at the same time was just not her. Who she was now, who you were now, were so utterly different from back then.

Watching her face, illuminated blueish by the light from the TV, so much older but still soft and young, framed by naturally blonde hair but bleached a lighter shade, you made your peace. You were probably being way too dramatic about all this, but it felt like a big moment in your half-baked teenage brain. You would take her back every time. You would let her leave every time. You would stay in place while she explored the world, and if she deigned to come back, you'd be waiting.

"Hey, Reg," You said, quiet but not exactly a whisper.

"What?" She looked up at you, just bent over the coffee table grabbing another slice of pizza.

"I missed you." You said, so earnestly it sounded jarring to even your ears.

She scrunched up her nose. "'Cause I bought you pizza?"

"Yeah," You laughed. "That too."

If you hadn't been looking so closely, you might've missed the brief lapse in her armour. It was in the softening at the corners of her eyes, in the slackening of her face, the give in her spine. Something like affection, like she'd missed you too.

"You're a weirdo."

You only laughed more.

The moment passed and you continued eating and talking and watching TV. You must've fallen asleep at some point after Regina went to remove her makeup. Eventually, you couldn't tell when, you woke up to the sun shining through the blinds right into your eyes.

Shit. It was Monday. You pawed around yourself for your phone, flipped it open, and checked the time. Shit, indeed. You nudged Regina with your toe.

"Reg..." She didn't even stir. "Reg!" You pushed harder, causing her to groan and whine.

"What? Five... M're mins..." She mumbled into the cushion, curling up tighter.

"We're late for school, Reggie, c'mon we gotta go." You momentarily contemplated if it was worth even going in. Your dad would be busting a lung at the missed calc class anyway. But did you want to give him more reasons to yell at you? No, not really.

"I gotta go, c'mon." You moved towards her and really shook her.

"What?" She grumped at you. To be honest, it was really cute. She had dust around her eyes, sleep still lingering in her limbs. You'd touched her shoulder, covered by the knit blanket you'd given her last night, but you could feel how warm she was.

"School. It's Monday morning, sleepyhead."

It took no more than that for the reality to set in for her. Cursing up a storm and running around like a headless chicken, Regina tried gathering all her things that'd somehow ended up scattered around the night before. Her perfume was in the alcove by the front, her charger in the kitchen, hairbrush in the bathroom.

"Do you want a ride?" You asked before heading upstairs to change. Couldn't go to school in just Spiderman boxers.

"I have nothing to wear!" She screeched, glaring at you as if you'd caused this. She was the one who wanted to stay the night, jeez.

You held up your hands in surrender. "You can borrow some of my stuff."

"As if you have anything remotely fitting. You dress like a hobo." She said all that while climbing up the stairs past you, heading for your room. "A hobo with a liking to grunge music, nonetheless."

You walked after her, listening but not feeling the need to add anything. Once she got to your door and you went to follow, she whirled around.

"Uh, I'm gonna change." She sassed, though the intimidation was made less effective by the bareness of her face and the messiness of her hair. You smiled and gestured for her to go on.

"Be my guest." As if she needed the invitation.

To her credit, it didn't take long for her to pick something to wear, wash her face, and do her hair. In the meantime, you used the hallway bathroom to freshen up yourself. She stepped out wearing the same white tank top as the night before, over it a short-sleeve button-down in a glossy, satin black, and a black skirt she'd probably found at the very back of your closet. The button-down was neatly cinched around her waist and the skirt discreetly rolled up to be shorter than it really was.

The shirt was probably the nicest thing you owned. Something a relative had gotten you for your birthday. Versace or something like that.

"I'm going to have to go to school in sneakers, jorts." She pointed at you accusingly, leaning over threateningly where you sat on the floor. You looked up at her and just shrugged. What could you do?

She rolled her eyes and waved you away. You took the cue that it was your turn. You didn't bother closing the door behind you. Some wash jeans from the back of your desk seemed clean enough. You sniffed them just in case. Not too funky, but definitely not fresh. They'd have to do. You chucked the hoodie, sprayed on some deodorant, and replaced it with a short-sleeve flannel. You looked into the mirror and checked your hair was okay before grabbing your backpack.

"Okay, let's go." You turned to see Regina staring at you incredulously.

"That's it? That's your morning routine?" Leaning against the doorway, you couldn't help but notice she looked fantastic. It was a real talent of hers, looking so good all the time.

"Usually, I'd eat breakfast." You herded her out of the door. "Do you need to get your things?" She probably didn't have any of her school stuff.

"No, I didn't unpack my purse before coming here." She said, checking said bag as she did. "I'll do my makeup in the car, drive sensibly."

"Psh, as if you need to tell me. You're the speed demon, from what I've heard."

"There's nothing wrong with the way I drive, grandma."

"Until you get your license revoked, speedster."

Needless to say, Regina was not impressed by your 2001 Corolla. And though she complained the whole way to school, she still sat in the front seat, doing her makeup, there was no heat behind her words. You arrived in the middle of the third period. Nobody was out and about, much to Regina's relief. You parted ways with a wiggle of her fingers and a finger salute from you. You sat in the car for a moment, just breathing and thinking.

She didn't say thank you, didn't say she had a good time, didn't even bother pretending she'd enjoyed your company. It seemed like a relief she was finally getting away from you. Was that how she felt?

Now that your friendship had progressed beyond small talk while you worked and pleasantries over dinner, being ignored at school felt a lot more hurtful.

It was sobering, how she could goss and laugh with you on your couch and then act as if being seen with you in public was social suicide.

What made it feel even worse was that it was true. If Regina was seen hanging around you, god knows what the piranhas that were the student body would do. It would end with either or both of you ostracized or worse. Regina could bend minds and shift opinions like it was a superpower, but even she had her limits.

You got out of the car, locked it, and ambled towards Spanish class.

Notes:

Comment/reply to this post if you want to be added to the taglist.

Taglist: @autorasexy, @wedfan2, @unadulterated-moron, @modernsapphicism, @9unknown0, @sage-rose2000, @massive-honkas, @nattys-swiftie

[sunny-mercya]

Parents Regrets

02. Fever Nights

Previous | Next

Batfamily x Male Child Reader

Masterlist

Another sleepless night for the Wayne family. A whole week it was now, in which they hadn't got a single amount of sleep. Tired they were, irritated, cranky and grumpy—to put it nicely—on it's finest level.

And the sole cause for this was you.

You had gotten a fever, heaven above knows from where. One of the strong kinds, which a adult could sweat off but a child not.

And a way of telling, for children who are in delay of speaking, was throughout crying.

Jason sighed deeply through his nose. Rubbing his eyes—pressing his palms into them—pinching the bridge of his nose. He looked down at his baby brother, who squirmed around in whining, not crying anymore but still teary eyed, of not liking the warmth—even though the only thing your wearing are diapers and a oversized shirt.

Jason has come, after some months of destroying something in rage, to terms with it of having another sibling, a much younger one, again.

Taking the washcloth from your forehead, Jason picked you up. You were starting to get fussy again and before another hellish cry would erupt from your tiny vocals, Jason decided to carry you a bit around.

«You know I love you sunshine, but a little bit of sleep would be nice, for the both, all of us» said Jason, more to himself than you in the sense of your not able to understand and reply at all.

You weren't the healthiest one—I mean Tim was unhealthy too, but in contrast to Tim, who lacks sleeps, human decency and only drinks his coffee on a empty stomach—wasn't prone to get easily sick, like you do.

Doctor Liz, after many check ups, told them that you have a weak immun system and that there wasn't anything to do about it—expect for medication and treatment vacations.

Jason would've comment, that there was a way—the lazarus pit or some dark magic rituals, but Bruce has already warned him not to bring it up. He could understand it though, doing one of those options would equal lots of pain for you and if your tiny body and mind could handle it was another question.

~~~

It was 4AM and all Tim wanted was a good old big cup of coffee to drink and being interrupted by Jason and the little annoyance of a brother—who cries, screams and shits endless—wasn't part of his plan. Tim glares at them, grip around his cup tighten.

«Can't you keep that thing away from kitchen?»

«Now now Timber, don't be so rude. We're just wanna have some chocolate milk,»

«I swear if he gonna cry again, I will scream.»

Jason ignored Tim, rummaging through the cupboards and fridge with one hand and preparing you a bottle of lukewarm chocolate milk. Hopefully this time you're able to drink it and not vomiting it all out again.

Tim glanced from time to time up from his phone at Jason and you. Tim wouldn't say he hated you, it's just being constantly keep awake from your crying was taking a toll on him.

«I don't think your choco-milk addiction is good for [Name].» mumbles Tim, eyeing the chocolate milk in your bottle wearily.

«Pff, better than Coffee don'tcha think?»

«And what if he is lactose intolerant?»

Jasons amusing smile fall instantly when Tim has pointed out the possibility of it.

«Fuck.» Jason cursed out, thinking back to all the times you had a endless pooping after you drank your chocolate milk. He never thought milk was the reasons for it, thought you only had a very sensitive stomach.

Tim groaned loudly when you started crying again. Hiding his face into his crossed arms onto the counter and screamed.

~~~

Your fever still hadn't gone down. Sometimes it would a bit, but then would rise again and with Jason constantly having giving you milk, a new problem has rising up, which adds to your feverish state.

Bruce bounced you on his leg, humming a melody and shushing you gently, trying to calm you down. Another sleepless night he guessed.

Bruce still doesn't what the reasons is for you feeling so unwell, besides the news of you being lactose intolerant. Maybe he should bring you into the hospital, Liz probably has some medication to help you. Then again Bruce wasn't sure if you would take this form of separation so greatly.

Just for a little bit, just for a little bit more they have to endure sleepless nights. You're recovery would just take a bit of time, nothing to fret.

Oh, but Bruce didn't know just how endless the nights would be go.

[esamastation]

Shizuroth, part twenty-one

Previous parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty

-

For the first time in what feels like a lifetime, Sephiroth sends out a text message.

After an evening and night spent meditating, reading and cultivating, figuring out the ins and outs of his hardened meridian system and going through the files Genesis had had delivered to him, Sephiroth's come to the conclusion that meditation isn't enough. He needs to condition his body properly, and that means forms, that means movements - that means he really misses easy access to all the collected cultivation manuals of Qing Jing Peak's impressive libraries.

Ultimately what it really means is that he needs more space than his single room apartment has.

"If we're banned from the training room, where can I go train?"

"Goddess beyond, Sephiroth, it's supposed to be your day off," Genesis replies and then, soon after, "Just go to the training room. Who could stop you?"

He's really not sure about training in front of people. "Is that really the only option?"

"Well, you could do what you always do and just take a mission."

Mission, like the dozen or so on his phone involving Wutai? Which had a lot of kill everyone and exterminate the opposition and leave no one alive!?

Yeah, okay. Training room it is, then!

After carefully selecting an outfit that would look reasonably in character for the future Big Bad while also being a bit more comfortable than three different things of leather. And he still pulls on the, now slightly better fitting, leather coat with its huge shoulder guards, too! He should look… more or less in character.

People still stare as he makes his way through floor 49, other SOLDIERs in their much more comfortable looking uniforms and not so comfortable looking helmets. There's a handful of them hanging around, sitting by the window or chatting, SOLDIER Seconds and Thirds waiting for assignments. There are some people in lab coats hanging around there too, just as a reminder of the true nature of the program.

Sephiroth had read about that too - everything Genesis had sent him about SOLDIER and the things he is supposed to already know. 

SOLDIER, as much as they are the elite warriors of Shinra, their OP human weapons in the war to conquer the planet… are also lab rats. They'd all signed up on it in order to get those enhancements, and now Shinra's Science Department can do… just about whatever they want with them!

They're constantly being tested for performance and given experimental training, treatments and gear to test out. Almost all Materia and medicine Shinra produces goes through SOLDIER field testing before going into mass production. Because it's better that it's a SOLDIER dealing with the fallout if the Materia blows up in his face or the medicine makes him projectile vomit. They can handle it!

Ah, corporate dystopia with minimal human rights. Fun stuff.

Sephiroth walks past them all, barely acknowledging them, and aims for the training room. Which… really seems more like a testing ground, now that there's actual personnel there.

There's no one in the training room itself - but there are two technicians in the observatory adjacent.

"S-Sephiroth!" a lab technician stutters as he enters  - the only way into the training room goes through the observatory, past all the monitoring equipment and computers. "What can we do for you?"

"I want to train," Sephiroth says in his best villain drawl, motioning to the training room with Masamune.

"Ah, that's - director Deusericus told us -"

Sephiroth narrows his eyes. "Oh, so I can't?"

The second lab tech elbows the first out of the way. "Of course you can, of course! Professor Hojo would be thrilled to have your training data," he assures, though the words are clearly aimed, very pointedly, at the other tech. "What kind of program settings would you like? We have a selection of new enemy AI and different environments - including numerous Wutai-inspired sequences!"

Sephiroth hesitates. That… could be interesting, actually. "Something from Wutai, with buildings - no enemies." That might give him a sense of what Wutai was like, culture-wise.

"... How are you going to train without enemies?"

Do SOLDIER not do forms? "Hmph," Sephiroth answers and turns to the training room, waving the electronic sliding door open. "Just start the simulation."

Seems like he got his villainous demanding attitude right, because they do. Seems like short and to the point is really the best way to hide a supposed amnesia!

Soon Sephiroth finds himself standing in a courtyard of what looks vaguely like some noble family's estate, feeling strangely like he's in a dream where everything is just a little bit off.

The simulation is… well, it kind of feels like a weird amusement park version of Asia, a mix of Japanese and Chinese aesthetics. The buildings have Japanese architecture for the most part, with bare unpainted wood and stone - but the roofs are all elaborate hip roofs. The written language, what little he can see of it, is in Mandarin, but the calligraphy style is very Japanese, very lyrical and artistic but without much form.

There's no bamboo in sight. Shame.

But at least the false environment makes it feel a little less like he's being watched - though he can still tell he is. Even with Sephiroth's burnt spiritual veins, he has pretty good senses.

Well, it's not like he hasn't trained with an audience before.

Unsheathing Masamune, Sephiroth holds the sheath in his off hand and takes a pose, breathing deeply in and concentrating. He still can't quite circulate his Qi, but he can sort it… flash it through himself in pulses, which lights up his meridian system and brings out the faults and snags therein.

Sephiroth is strong, hardy, seemingly endlessly durable. He's also fast, his overactive muscles easily going past the limitations of your usual normal human conditions. The issue is not quite his overall flexibility - but his… suppleness, maybe?

You need your veins to flex and contract for healthy circulation, and that's the same with energy. Thanks to the Mako treatments and the emphasis on stamina and strength, Sephiroth's whole system is just… hard. Every part of him is hardened to endure who knows what, and it gives his meridian system very little give. 

So that's what his form needs to focus on, increasing his meridian system's pliancy.  

All the while wondering if all SOLDIERs were working with these kinds of toughened meridians, Sephiroth pulses his energy and begins to move. Qing Jing Peak sword forms work well enough for him, it turns out - as spiritual cultivators, they also have to maintain certain spiritual flexibility, after all. He needs to adjust the forms to the sword he has, but that's not too difficult. A lot of spiritual swordsmen use sword glares to extend the shape and size of their cutting edge, so the forms already have some wiggle room.

Soon Sephiroth has a set of moves that work the best, making his pulses of energy work better and better, until his whole meridian system buzzes, active and alive. He can even feel the beginnings of activity in his frankly neglected dantians, as energy wooshes through him in waves. It feels… pretty great.

What he doesn't know is that on the outside it looks rather like Sephiroth just activated a Limit Break - by will alone.

-

Someone making waves, hehe

[thequeenskeep]

Self Care Tips 💄

Exude Wealth and Class

In the spirit of lightheartedness, I want to share some of the self-care habits I've developed that have helped me build discipline and routine. Oftentimes, when we speak so seriously about self-mastery it may become unrelatable. I know that we women pride ourselves on our dedication to looking and feeling like our best selves. This skill can be the stepping stone to new heights. Within numerology, the number one represents the self; the very first step to improvement begins with us. Hygiene reflects mental sharpness, wealth, class, and spiritual favor. Instead of denying yourself love because you look unconventional cultivate your look. Be unique. Be the representation you want to see in the world. Please research the tips I provide, as they may not be compatible with everyone.

Facial Massages. Wow oh wow. These have seriously changed my life. I do them to shape my face and help me relax. They increase blood flow and give your skin a youthful, buoyant look. I also massage my neck and shoulders; I really love to do this at night to help me destress.

Hair Steam Treatment. Whenever I moisturize or condition my hair I ensure that it is dripping wet. I apply whatever product I want to really absorb into my hair, then put on a shower cap or processing cap. I leave it on for an hour and the heat from my scalp steams the water infusing my hair with hydration. My hair is so soft every time I do this and gives me a break between steps.

Bathing. Seriously, if all you can afford is 20 minutes a week you will be thanking me. Bathing is an experience. Sitting in the tub, watching the bubbles glisten on your skin, the warmth and aromatics filling your senses, complete relaxation being submerged in nature's hug. A good bath will make you forget everything troubling for a true moment of bliss. When it feels like the world is crumbling down on you take a salt bath and pray.

Foot care. Now this is a big one. The soles of your feet are your connection to the divine feminine. Cleansing and renewing your feet is important for spiritual well-being. Make sure you also take care of your nails. Weekly manicures and biweekly pedicures will keep everything prim and proper.

Dry Brushing. OMGGG! I SWEAR by dry brushing my skin has never been more supple. I've used various forms of exfoliation and got the best results from dry brushing. I like to do a light chemical exfoliation to help renew the skin this, however, is optional.

Movement. I know we're having a great time ladies but this is my final tip. Move your body! Stagnant energy will spill over into everything you do. Stop rotting in bed. Go outside, do yoga, workout, dance, whatever you feel called to do even if it's just 5 minutes a day. If we want to see movement in our lives we need to move ourselves.

Beauty is a significant aspect of life if you'd like to read my thoughts on the power of beauty please refer to:

[sparkbeast20]

Silent Treatment

This one is going to be long

House of Lamentation (New) (8)

Leviathan: Please! I'm sorry MC!

Asmodeus: Darling please!

Beelzebub: We didn't know that it brought back bad memories.

Beelzebub: We're sorry

Beelzebub: 😥😥😥

67 (2) Beel's POV

Belphegor: Beel I don't know if I have the right to say something in chat right now.

Belphegor: I hate it, but I think it's best that you talk for the two of us right now.

House of Lamentation (New) (8)

Beelzebub: MC please.

Leviathan: Mammon say something!

Leviathan: Beg, cry. Anything!

Leviathan: They have a soft spot for you, so please do anything!

Asmodeus: Levi try calling them on computer!

25(2) Asmo's POV

Mammon: Shit! I tried their door, but they locked it with a spell!

Mammon: Keep talkin' while I try the window!

House of Lamentation (New) (8)

Satan: I understand that your angry, I would be too.

Satan: We made a mistake.

Satan's chat with you: Satan's POV

Satan: Kitten.

Satan: MC.

Satan: I... I don't feel your anger.

Satan: Please say something.

Satan: Yell from your room.

Satan: So I know that your angry!

House of Lamentation (New) (8)

Lucifer: This silent treatment has gone long enough.

Satan: SHUT THE FUCK UP LUCIFER!

Leviathan: You're just making things worse!!!

Beelzebub: Please Lucifer.

Asmodeus' chat with you: Asmo's POV

Asmodeus: I get it.

Asmodeus: Moving past from an old relationship is painful.

Asmodeus: I'm sorry that we brought back painful memories.

Asmodeus: You know that we'll never hurt you like that.

Asmodeus: And we don't see you like that!

Asmodeus: I understand that you needed space after what happened.

Asmodeus: But you been silent for 2 days.

Asmodeus: And none of us have seen or heard from you.

Asmodeus: MC...

Asmodeus: Please.

Asmodeus: It's torture and I'm getting scared

Asmodeus: It kills me when I don't hear anything from you.

Asmodeus: Please... Darling.

House of Lamentation (New) (8)

Beelzebub: MC.

Beelzebub: All of us just want to hear from you.

Beelzebub: Belphie is getting worried.

Beelzebub: He can't find his way into your dream.

Leviathan: Belphie is trying to do what?!?!

Satan: Belphegor.

Satan: I'm warning you.

Beelzebub: It's nothing like that!!!

Beelzebub: He just wanted to make sure that he can still sense MC's mind in the dreamscape.

Beelzebub: But he found out that MC lock their mind with a hex.

Beelzebub: He just wanted to know that there is still an option to communicate with MC.

Mammon's chat with you: Mammon's POV

Mammon: Babe, talk to me!!

Mammon: You locked your door and windows with a spell.

Mammon: Even your windows are blocked by the curtains that me and my crows can't look inside your room.

Mammon: Yeah! I had one of my crows keep an eye on ya.

Mammon: Cuz' I'm worried when did leave yer room after that stupid surprise party.

Mammon: Treasure, please

Mammon: I'm leaning on your window right now and I don't hear anything.

Where's My Money Levi's POV

Leviathan: Mammon!!!!

Mammon: Workin' on it!

12 (2) Lucifer's POV

Mammon: This is bad!!

Mammon: Lucifer!

Mammon: I need ya to come here and break this spell!!

Mammon: I can sense something in the room!!

Mammon: Lucifer!

Mammon: LUCIFER!?!?!

Tea Demons Lucifer's POV

Barbatos: Lucifer.

Barbatos: Whatever is happening in HOL, you need to step in.

Barbatos: I can sense someone teleporting from that area.

Lucifer: I know.

Lucifer's chat with you: Lucifer's POV

Lucifer: Love.

Lucifer: Whatever your planning.

Lucifer: Please. Reconsider.

Lucifer: You know that I'm here, and so as my brothers.

Lucifer: Diavolo, Barbatos, Simeon and Solomon.

Lucifer: But we can't help you, if you don't say something.

Lucifer: If you wanted space from this place for a couple of days, then I'll give you that.

Barbatos' chat with you: Barbatos' POV

Barbatos: Darling.

Barbatos: This silence from you is worrisome.

Barbatos: You know I can read you well and can tell that something is bothering you.

Barbatos: But this.

Barbatos: I can't read you at all.

Invocatio (3) Solomon's POV

Asmodeus: SOLOMON!!!

Asmodeus: Please!!!

Asmodeus: You can talk to them.

Asmodeus: I'm not ashamed to say that.

Asmodeus: You and MC haver this connection that we'll never have.

Barbatos: Solomon.

Barbatos: He's right.

Solomon's chat with you: Solomon's POV

Solomon: Well, it seem that you really have your ways to these demons that I couldn't have.

Solomon: 😅

Solomon: ...

Solomon: In all seriousness.

Solomon: You and I both know, that giving them the silent treatment and not showing your face to them is giving them ideas.

Solomon: Now, granted. Most of the time they always underestimate us for being human...

Solomon: More so you, because well. I'm Immortal.

Solomon: ...

Solomon: The one thing that we should've in common.

Solomon: The lingering threat of everything has an end for humans.

Solomon: But not me.

Solomon: So I doubt is to why Asmodeus and Barbatos think of that I can talk to you.

Solomon: Never the less, even if there is or isn't something that connect us.

Solomon: What I do understand is this.

Solomon: Traumatic event and loss stick with us.

Solomon: Even so far is to change how our way of thinking and behavior.

Solomon: I know that all too well.

Solomon: So, please.

Solomon: Share your pain with me. Love.

Simeon's chat with you: Simeon's POV

Simeon: MC.

Simeon: I haven't heard from you in a couple of days now.

Simeon: I manage to tell Luke that you're just not feeling well.

Simeon: However, that made things more complicated since he want to see you.

Simeon: If you read this, please send Luke a quick chat.

Simeon: Just to ease his worries. My Lamb

Diavolo's chat with you: Diavolo's POV

Diavolo: My dear?

Diavolo: Love?

Diavolo: MC?

Diavolo: If you read this. Please.

Diavolo: Let me know, if your feeling talk about what happened.

Diavolo: Is perfectly understandable if you need some space.

Diavolo: But it will ease our worries if heard something from you.

Diavolo: Just one sound.

Belphegor's chat with you: Belphie's POV

Belphegor: MC.

Belphegor: Please.

Belphegor: Say something. Anything!

Belphegor: 😥

Belphegor: I hate when you go quiet.

Belphegor: I hate it.

Belphegor: I reminds me too much about-

Belphegor: ...

Belphegor: MC, please. I just want to know that you're still there.

Beelzebub's chat with you: Beel's POV

Beelzebub: MC...

Beelzebub: MC...

Beelzebub: ...

Beelzebub: Don't be mad.

Leviathan's chat with you: Levi's POV

Leviathan: Henry?

Leviathan: Whatever you're thinking-

Leviathan: We don't see you any different!

Leviathan: We still love you!!

Leviathan: ...

Leviathan: I still love you.

After an Hour...

The Fantastic Three (3) Diavolo's POV

Barbatos: I want to inform the two of you that I sense someone leaving Devildom by teleportation from the House of Lamentation.

Barbatos: They're gone back.

Luke's chat with you: Luke's POV

MC: Hey Luke!

MC: Just to let you know that went back to the human world for a couple of weeks.

MC: Don't worry your silly little head.

MC: Its a family thing.

MC: I'll be back before you know it!

MC: Talk to you when I get back.

You and Me with the thing called Love (12) Your POV

MC: Hi.

MC: ...

MC: Sorry.

MC: For everything.

MC: For not replying.

MC: For not showing my face...

MC: For the Silent.

MC: I hated what they done to me.

MC: And what I have done to them.

MC: The pain I went through.

MC: And the guilt for my action.

MC: I was too much for me to go through again.

MC: And made me think...

MC: How I don't deserve any of you.

MC: How I hate that you don't see me as a broke person.

MC: ...

MC: But seeing all these chats...

MC: All these words...

MC: Is somewhat... Uplifting.

MC: When I was with them.

MC: They never once try and reach out when I get like this.

MC: No text, no coming to my house to see if I'm feeling alright.

MC: Nothing.

MC: ...

MC: And that. Gave me the impression that I was in the wrong and I was being dramatic.

MC: So. I caved in and push myself to apologies and say I was at fault.

MC: Since then, I always kneel and ask for forgiveness.

MC: ...

MC: It gotten to a point that I can't handle it and just snap.

MC: Like what I did at the surprise party.

MC: Especially when I didn't have a reason to snap!

MC: I just heard that stupid song and all I saw was red...

MC: And their face.

MC: I'm so sorry.

MC: I couldn't have the guts to face any of you, so I hid and stayed silent for these past two days.

MC: Until now I can't...

MC: Which is why I went back to the human world to cool down a bit.

MC: And if any of you are worried that I might do something reckless.

MC: Don't!

MC: I use this curse to connect my soul with a link to one of you.

MC: That way you'll know if my soul left my body.

MC: Sorry if I sound morbid, but I couldn't of way to say it less harsh?

MC: Then again, I think I can get a pass on having a dark sense of humor every now and then

MC: 😅

MC: Still, I think I okay chatting and calling you guys again.

MC: I just can't face any of you right now.

MC: Don't worry.

MC: I'll be back before any of you knows it.

MC: ...

MC: Thanks.

MC: For still loving me even if I snapped like that.

MC: And that you don't think less of me.

MC: Seeing these chat made me realize.

MC: That I have something great in my life.

MC: And I ain't going to let that go.

MC: Believe that.

MC: See you all when I get back!

MC: Love you all

MC: 😚

[daydreamgoddess14]

Support System - Epilogue

CH1 | CH 2 | CH 3 | CH 4 | CH 5 | CH 6 | CH 7 | CH 8 | CH 9 | CH 10

MASTERLIST

Just a little ending continuation for you. That's all folks - we're definitely done now 😘 Under the cut so you don't get spoiled before reading Chapter 10!

Epilogue

You got back to Nelson Road from a Fab Four lunch where you’d celebrated the sign off of the AFC Richmond Women’s team. The new season was still only a couple of months in, but the change in jobs had so far been incredible. You needn't have worried about getting on with Keeley, or about Rebecca’s terrifying reputation. The four of you gelled perfectly together, and it only improved when you called in the coaching staff reinforcements. The ethos, philosophy and culture of the club had never been so ingrained in its leadership before and it had helped the club go from strength to strength. You’d stopped by the bakery on the way back to the stadium for a box of cupcakes for Ted, Coach Beard, Roy and Nate and left Rebecca at the foot of her stairs so you could carry on and deliver them.

“I’ll come too, see Ted.” She’d followed you through the changing room. You could hear the team in the gym, the coaches were all in the office except for Roy. 

“Oh. Hiya fellas, seen Roy? I texted him when I left Ola’s.” You looked around as if you were half expecting him to be hiding by his desk, but he wasn't around at all. 

"Haven't seen him in a hot minute, sorry." Ted had replied, eyes only for Rebecca. Nate had gone to check on the players in the gym, Beard had his head buried in his book. 

"Guess I'll leave these here then. Tell him to come and say hi when he turns up?" You asked Beard who tipped his hat. Your afternoon focused on branding opportunities for the women’s team, you’d had some logo ideas you wanted to run by a few people so took the chance to stretch your legs. You said hello to the team in the ticket office, looked in on the players in the gym, “Anyone seen Roy?”

“Nah, sorry!”

“He’s around here somewhere I think.”

“I thought I saw him in the boot room.”

“Not the boot room you melon, the treatment room.” As you received at least 14 different answers, you held up your hand,

“Never mind! Thanks boys.” You carried on up to Rebecca’s office where she was meeting with Sharon, “Sorry, am I interrupting?”

“Not at all, are they the logo options?” Rebecca held out a hand,

“Sure is, seen Roy?”

“I think he’s downstairs.” Sharon smiled.

“He’s got a meeting with me at 4.30 so he’ll be about somewhere.”

“I know, I’m getting Lexie today. Let me know what you think of those and we’ll catch up tomorrow. Bye both.” You left the office and went via your own office to get your things. In the carpark, Roy’s car had gone. Because of his late meeting with Rebecca, you’d gone in separately that morning. You swung into the school car park and waited at the main doors to be let in.

“Oh, I’m sorry - Lexie’s already left today? Phoebe’s uncle collected her?” You rolled your eyes, he’d forgotten about his meeting with Rebecca.

“Ok, not to worry, thanks!” You jumped back in the car and used the voice control to call him. There was no answer so you carried on to your house. You expected to see his car, but it wasn’t there. This was starting to get annoying. You hopped out of the car and went to put your key in the lock, but it wouldn’t fit. “What the fucking fuck is going on today?!” You looked through your key bundle but your house key wasn’t there, it had fallen off. Back in the car, you tried to work out whether he’d have taken Lexie back to the club for his meeting. He still didn’t answer the phone so you went straight to his house. His car was on the drive, you breathed a sigh of relief. The door was locked so you rang the bell and waited for Lexie to answer. Nothing. You rang the bell again. At your hip level, the letterbox flipped open,

“You need to use your key.” Lexie whispered.

“I don’t have a fucking key?” It had been on your to-do list for the last few weeks since you and Roy had talked about it. You already had a spare for your house and easily handed it over to him. You looked back down at your keys and saw a new, different key where your house key had been. The letterbox closed again, you slid the new key into the door handle and it clicked smoothly, the door opening. Just inside, Roy and Lexie were standing with a house shaped helium balloon and a little cake made in the shape of Roy’s house. Everything fell into place in your brain. “I do have a key.” You realised.

“If you want it?”

“Roy’s decorated my bedroom!” Lexie squealed, his hand clamped over her mouth gently,

“Oi! Don’t ruin it!” She giggled and swung herself around using his arm as leverage. You looked up at him,

“Not just a key?”

“I was thinking we could move in together? I never want to know a world without you both.” You couldn’t stop the tears even if you’d tried, you rushed into his arms.

“We’d love to.”

FIN

[letomills]

The "requests are paused until I'm done with the current ones" thing was wishful thinking (a bit like the closing statements in my last yt video 🤓) and I am once again thoroughly overwhelmed with everything.

Requests are firmly closed until further notice. I said yes to the FtM hairs for anon and the Tiggerypum tunics & iamliz13 alpha dresses for children & toddlers for the other anon (I did get the links you sent to the meshes), so I still intend to complete both.

A novel's worth of life updates under the cut (content warning for struggle with bipolar type 2, including questionable choices which should not be taken as advice).

Well over a year ago I shared that my mother was going through a really bad bipolar type 2 depression episode (looking back, mention of it in that post was very euphemistic, I must have been hopeful). The reason why I didn't give any updates after a while is that there is no satisfactory narrative that I could easily spin into words. She's not all better, she hasn't died or lost her mind for good, things have just been evolving at a snail's pace through a whole spectrum of very bleak colors. She's not fully hospitalized anymore, she lives at home with my brother and me, with day hospitalisation activities several times a week. The myriad psychiatrists that she's seen have not been able to find the "right" treatment for her, but hey, after lithium sent her into such a state of confusion that we thought she might stay mentally disabled for the rest of her life, at least now we know that's not an option. A couple days ago her psychiatrist prescribed a new antipsychotic to replace the one she'd been taking. She started the transition, and today confusion started showing its terrifying face again so she's not taking that pill tonight, or to be honest ever again unless her psychiatrist somehow manages to convince us otherwise (she'll report her symptoms and get counsel at the hospital tomorrow). Her cognition is already impaired, her short-term memory and ability to focus especially. She can't live alone, I keep and manage her pillboxes, make sure she's eating right and the stove is off, that sort of stuff. But at least, until the introduction of this new drug, she'd made considerable gains compared to when she was at her worst last winter. No way we're going back to that again.

On a more positive note, about a month and a half ago I started work at a grocery delivery place just up the street (yes that's what I'm doing with my degree in Mandarin and my master's in English-French translation studies). It's intense physically, kinda stressful, and not very well paid, but I think I like it and the people are very nice. What scares me is that my trial period ends in about 2 weeks and I'm not entirely sure that they'll want to keep me, considering I've made several mistakes and they don't seem to think that I work quite fast enough (I know I said the people were very nice, they are, that's just the job). They keep saying the work load is gonna get crazier starting in September. The way they're saying it may suggest that they do envision me as still working there in September, but maybe they're trying to push me to work faster now and if I can't prove that I'm able to they won't keep me? Well I'm already doing my best, even if sometimes I end up finding myself crying over clients' items because my brain isn't able to focus anymore and I'm messing up and wasting time.

Emotional control has been harder because I unilaterally made the decision to taper off my antidepressant. Now before you facepalm, let me flood you with all of my best questionable arguments: • I do have an appointment with my psychiatrist, the earliest date I could get was October 1st (and I may have to postpone, depending on my work hours that day which I don't know yet). • I was already on the lowest dose that you can be on. • I tapered off very slowly. • I recently talked about it with the nurse that I saw for the mandatory medical visit I had to go to because I got the new job (idk if you have that outside of France). Naturally she was alarmed that I'd been weaning myself off on my own and she convinced me to see my GP asap and not change my medication without at least his input (which yes, I know). • the reasons I did it despite knowing that it's inadvisable are: 1) obviously I haven't been feeling depressed for a while or I wouldn't have done it, 2) the amount of endorphin-producing physical exercise I get from the new job felt like it could maybe do the trick so it was worth a try, 3) seeing how much my mom's medication has messed up her cognition over the years is scary. She's been taking way higher doses of antidepressants than me, along with other stuff, over a way longer period of time, but still. I don't want to be on it if it's not strictly necessary, so I wanted to try off. • I'm still taking my antipsychotic religiously and have no intention to stop that (I can't anyway or I won't be able to sleep and I'll definitely lose the job).

My plan with the antidepressant was to space out the doses and eventually get off it entirely for several weeks before reassessing, but after seeing that nurse, I started upping again to one dose every other day. I will admit, I was having suicidal thoughts after several days off, and now it's gone. Maybe I should find having suicidal thoughts more alarming than I do, the nurse's phrasing when she asked if I did - something that could translate to "no suicidals thoughts, riiight?" - was a good reminder that suicidal thoughts are really bad to have oh no. Of course I said no, why would I want her to interfere (leave me to make decisions for my own self thank you). Anyway, the appointment with my GP is in two days. He's gonna be useless on psych stuff but I guess getting his unqualified, predictable input is the responsible thing to do in polite society. More relevantly, the nurse also told me to go see him because my blood pressure is a bit low, or at least it was at 9/6 when she saw me, so I need to have it retaken and see what's up with that if anything.

And so yes, I have a ton of CC plans as always, I am positively drowning. Beside the two requests I mentioned above the cut, one of which I need to do a lot of learning for, I picked up work on Celestialspritz's beta Vincent skins and started converting afbodykimono for the usual roaster of breasted body shapes, like I did with afbodyqipao here and would like to do with more Happy Holiday Stuff outfits in the future. Although I told myself that I would stick to the body shapes that I've already done stuff for, I now also want to make a set of clothes for Lady Apple. I also have an idea about a set of scrawny body shapes for TU-EU inspired by Mrs Crumplebottom's body shape. I know Melodie9's slim family exists but to be honest those shapes creep me out and I want to see if I can do something less uncanny (it may end up looking too similar to the Androgyny body shapes, or to Faerie Gal, or it may not pan out at all, so don't hold your breath). I also want to do a ton of hairs in FakeBlood's palette + Naberius (tbh I'm still not 100% sure if I like Timebomb or Naberius more for my aliens, I need to figure that out once and for all). And of course I want to do more FtM & MtF hair conversions once I know how to do it well enough. There's a billion smaller projects I'd like to insert in between those, outfit conversions for one or a couple body shapes, repurposing of older meshes, a set of nude "outfits" for all the body shapes I do, etc.

[valkyrieandstrangeridingaragorn]

Okey, it's very concerning even from Peggy Carter fans self that in what if that Peggy immediately recognize Bucky just looking his eyes....

I think MCU want said that Peggy is 'more close' to Bucky or more awesome than Steve because how easy she can recognize him rather than Steve his bestfriend/his brother. Didn't they realize that they basically made PC becoming very sus and she not look 'heroic' at all?

What I get in what of they intended made PC look more awesome than Steve but somehow it make her look arrogant and annoying and worst of all they made other characters keep praised her like Melina Markov (Natasha 'fake' mom) and so on.

Ugh can MCU make other characters not praised other characters to make them look awsome, prove it and showing it to us that they are awsome

Now we in era of claimed it and not showing it

I think they got carried away In What If. They wanted to show her as this capable woman who can recognize Bucky by his eyes only and with his mask on, but they didn't realize that in doing so there are only two options: either she was close to him before Hydra or she had heard about the Winter Soldiers. MCU canon tells us the former is not the case since she couldn't care less about him, so we're left with the latter, which is proved later by Howard's line when he confirms he had heard the rumours.

After S1 of What If we had a bunch of articles saying she was a better Captain than Steve. I don't know if those people realize that the shield is not what made Steve a hero, but then again taking into account Marvel's treatment of Steve post-CW, maybe they don't understand that themselves.

I don't see why Melina would idolize someone like Saint Maggy anyway. Being a hero is not only a matter of power, it's about taking action when something goes wrong, whether it impacts you personally or not. It's Steve's "If I see a situation pointed south, I can't ignore it." Saint Margaret did nothing about the red room, she did nothing to help Bucky after he worked with them, they were content with "hearing rumours" and doing nothing about it. What's heroic about that?

When the characters are well written, they don't need those around them to praise their every move and existence. The audience is captivated by their actions and their words enough to not need a guiding hand telling us to love them. This is what Marvel is failing at in these new phases. In the past they would focus on the characters and let the audience decide who got a big fanbase and who didn't. Now they're trying to push certain characters forward and telling us we have to love them, and that's not how it works.

[do-it-for-the-fandom]

Friday

August 31st, 2012.

Beckett placed her hand on Castle's knee and pressed down firmly.

The incessant bouncing stopped.

"When?" she asked.

Dr. Kendi Abebe sat behind a large, wooden desk. In front of him was Castle's medical file. Just the sight of it made Beckett's mouth dry and her body feel heavy, like someone had dropped a concrete slab in her lap and expected her to sit there as if it weren't slowly crushing her. But Castle had long checked out, muttering something about this being karma for a life well lived and bouncing his leg so rapidly she was sure the friction of his calf against the fabric armchair was sure to start a fire. Someone had to be mentally present and it was looking like that someone was going to be her.

"As soon as possible," Dr. Abebe informed her. "The sooner we get the necessary imaging done, the sooner we can form a plan."

"Plan?" Castle asked absent-mindedly.

"For treatment," the doctor clarified.

"Can't you just cut it out?"

"Surgery is an option, yes," Dr. Abebe said for the second time. "But first we need to get an idea of what we're working with. An MRI will give us a visual of the tumour. We'll be able to see how big it is and if it has started to spread."

Castle sighed. "Right. You said that, I'm sorry."

Beckett squeezed his knee; a silent show of support.

"It's okay, Richard," the doc assured him. "I can go over your options as many times as you need. And I have plenty of reading materials to send you home with, too, so don't think you have to commit it all to memory right now. It's a lot to absorb."

Castle shook his head. "I just- How do I tell my daughter? You know, she's just started College and is excited to discover this brand new world." He turned to look at Beckett. "I don't want to ruin her freshman year."

The tremor in his voice shattered her defences and she had to blink away the tears that stung her eyes.

"Castle, I know you're worried about Alexis but we're going to figure out how to tell her, okay? And she's going to be fine, you're not ruining anything." She ran her fingers through his hair and offered him a small smile, the best one she could muster in the moment. "You know she's going to have questions, though, right?"

Castle laughed as sad laugh.

"She's going to want all the details because- because she's smart," she continued. "Knowledge is power, right? The more we know, the better. She's going to have a million questions and she's going to want you to answer them."

"So, right now I need to focus," Castle surmised.

"Just do what you can," she encouraged. "We'll figure the rest out later."

[spoopydooblr]

The Ken and Stella pregnancy blurb was so good could you write one where they find out that she’s pregnant?

ive been thinking about this scenario a lot and i cant really decide how i want this to go . . .

i think a year or so after they get married (stella is like 30ish) they start to really do their research and find the best fertility clinic in the city. its been almost 20 years since kendall and rava struggled to get pregnant, but still, he's not feeling optimistic.

stella gets a clean bill of health from the doctor, but ken isn't so lucky. just as he suspected, he was the problem. again.

was it the drugs? he was clean now, but he used so much...could he have ruined his chances forever?

stella assures him that it'll be okay, but she never went through what he had to 20 years ago.

they decide on a couple of treatments. they're both taking shots every day and pills at night and its exhausting. most of the meds go to kendall, but stella has to take some too, just in case.

they begin with intrauterine insemination, which is pretty simple and painless, but stella gets her period two weeks later. its hard on both of them, but especially kendall because he knows it's him, not her.

next they try ivf, which is a lot more complicated and expensive (not that money is an issue). now they both have to do injections and stella goes in for her egg retrieval.

the egg retrieval goes better than expected and they're left with 10. ken's sample has some relatively viable sperm so they pull the trigger and try to make some embryos.

the waiting is by-far the worst part, because deep down kendall knows there's no way those embryos are going to get made with his shitty sperm. he's right, unfortunately, and they're back to square one with zero embryos and ten now-frozen eggs.

kendall suggests a donor, like they did with iverson. stella's heartbroken, but they start to look into other options.

because they have the best doctors, however, they get into a trial for a new drug that increases sperm count and viability. stella is thrilled and insists kendall try it, but it's another injection and he's not super happy about it. nothing has ever worked for him, why now?

it's nice to have a break from more intense treatments, so they agree and kendall marks his torso up with injection pricks again.

three months later, ken and stella are enjoying some time off from surgery and tiny, microscopic cells that control their lives. kendall's in new york for the week, working on some financials for their production company (i imagine them making something rival to waystar and completely taking over the media scene), and stella is holding it down in los angeles, or at least trying to.

it's flu season and she's been to so many fancy parties in the last few weeks, stella is sick as a dog. she's a little worried, but the nausea, vomiting and headaches are typical for the flu, right?

she also chalks her late period up to stress. but it's been at least a few weeks...

the day before kendall is supposed to come home, stella drives herself to the hospital after she can't stop throwing up.

"when did the symptoms start?" the doctor asks.

"a week ago, i think, but ive been feeling kind of off for a while."

"and there's no chance you're pregnant? when was your last period?"

stella's heart skips a beat.

"um, i'm not sure. we're trying, uh, but it's been unsuccessful. my period is really irregular and i've been stressed so--" she trails off. "we've been trying for a couple of years."

"and are you taking medication?"

"i did, but it's not really..." she thinks for a bit. "it's not a uterus issue, it's my husband."

"and what is he taking?"

she tells the doctor about the new medication kendall is taking. "it's only been three months, so we're still hopeful. or at least i am."

"i've heard some great things about that new drug. it's really changing people's lives." the doctor smiles, turning away from stella and writing something down. "i'm going to order some tests, but i think you're fine."

------------------

kendall, obviously, sprints to his jet when stella tells him she's sick. she insists she's fine, but wants him to come home as soon as he can, which stresses him out to no avail.

he bursts through the door four hours later, finding stella reading a magazine on the couch.

"stell!" he says, running towards her.

"hey baby." she hugs him, bringing him down to the couch with her. stella presses her lips to his, but kendall is confused.

"aren't you sick?" he pulls away.

her face breaks into a huge smile. "about that..." stella gets up from the couch and walks to the kitchen.

kendall looks at her quizzically, as she comes back with a piece of paper in her hands.

"i have something to show you." she says, holding the paper close to her.

"okay..." kendall smiles at her, utterly confused.

stella carefully sits next to him on the couch. "here."

kendall recognizes the picture immediately. he used to frame them when rava was pregnant with iverson.

"what is this?" he holds up the ultrasound. it's too good to be true, right? tears prick his eyes.

stella is crying already, and takes his hand. "that's inside of me."

he looks down at the black and white photo again. a fuzzy, bean-looking object sits, next to another, smaller object. he's speechless for the first time in his life.

"what is that?" he whispers, pointing to the smaller object on the page.

stella looks at him, and he really can't read her for once.

"this surprise comes with another surprise." she laughs.

kendall's crying, but he takes another look. "is that..."

"yeah."

"two?" he smiles wide.

"i'm pregnant." she finally says, putting her hands on his cheeks. "baby, we're having twins."

they both burst out into crying giggles, hugging. kendall kisses her all over, stopping at her stomach. it's still pretty flat, but he knows her body so well he swears he can see a tiny bump growing.

THIS WAS SO FUN AND LOVELY TO WRITE I LOVE THEM AND I HOPE U DO TOO

[arithecreatorsstuff]

Things You Should Never Say To a Chronic Illness Survivor

This is a list of things that are just not cool to say to anybody with a chronic condition. I have fibromyalgia, which is a very complicated way of saying everything hurts, and no one knows why. I've heard most of this crap first hand. Seriously, y'all know this stuff doesn't help, knock it off.

"You don't look sick." Uh, yeah. Invisible illness doesn't outwardly advertise. While we may not look sick, you look like an ass saying that. 0/10, please stop.

"You're too young to be sick." You say that to a pediatric cancer patient? No? Then realize sickness can hit at any age. Another 0/10, stop it.

"It can't be that bad, you're always smiling." Here's the thing... most of us in this hellboat do not, surprisingly, like to be seen when we're not on our game, and we honestly want to just die. Unless you, like a certain very fictional SCP Foundation Doctor, can swap bodies at will, you have no freaking clue how anyone else feels. -10/10, say it again and we can and will find someone to smack the stupid out of you on our behalf.

"Are you still sick/are you better yet/you still haven't recovered yet?" Uh, yeah. Chronic illness doesn't just vanish. Supremely unhelpful, hurtful, and the next person who asks me this personally will find out I can still bitchslap with the best of them. -11/10, delete this query from your vocabulary.

"You can't always be in this much pain." No, some days are even WORSE. And the stress from dealing with unbelievers stings as much as our illnesses. Again, spend an hour in our bodies, you'll sing a new tune. -9/10, if you don't know, don't judge.

"You're just miserable." No shit, asshole. We're in pain all the time. If we complain, 9 times out of 10, we're not bullshitting you. Trust us. If we don't complain, it still hurts. For some of us it even hurts more to complain all the time. -20/10, say this one more time, we dare you.

"Have you tried (insert treatment/supplement/exercise here)?" Uh, probably. But not everything works for everybody. And some exercises just make it worse. 0/10, stop it.

"You just need therapy." While therapy helps deal with the condition, it WILL NOT FIX A GODSDAMNED CHEMICAL IMBALANCE/PHYSICAL DEFORMITY IN YOUR BRAIN BY ITSELF. You wouldn't say this to a person with a brain tumor, quit saying it to us. -11/10, do your research and learn something.

"Try to reduce stress." Uh... my body is the PRIMARY SOURCE of my stress, as it decided it hates me. So, unless you got a spare meatsuit behind your desk, this is just useless. -20/10, quit it.

"I know how you feel." No, no you do not, not unless you're trapped in your own circle of this particular hell. -25/10, this WILL result in me punching the offender if I hear this one more damn time.

"You're faking it/Fibromyalgia doesn't exist/you're just trying to get attention." Yeah, because being in CONSTANT UNBEARABLE AGONY 24/7/365 is just soo much fun. Look, no one really believed in radiation before the Curies, but it exists, and can be proven. Unlike the so-called intelligence of the idiot saying this. -30/10, if you think this, would you kindly stay the fuck away from us, as you're just a fool.

"You'll feel better after a good sleep." Assuming our bodies even let us, which is rare. And for me at least, I think the last good sleep I had was getting my gallbladder out, not that it helped. 0/10, just shove it.

"You'll feel worse in a few years." Really? Cause I legit want to die now. -1000/10, if you get the urge to say this, punch yourself in the eye and save us the trouble.

"Try (insert whatever diet here), it'll help." Not always an option on a fixed income, my dudes.

"There are people worse off than you." This pisses me off on two levels. One, comparing traumas/illnesses doesn't do much. Two, this is true for almost everybody. -250/10, mean, rude, and simply unhelpful.

"Everybody feels like that." ALL THE TIME? No? Then stfu. -1000/10, again, feel the urge to say this, punch yourself in the eye and save us the trouble.

"You're no fun anymore." Neither is our illness. -10/10.

"Why can't you just snap out of it?" DID YOU REALLY FUCKING THINK WE HAVEN'T TRIED THAT, YOU IDIOT? Chronic illness does not work like that AT ALL. -2000/10, never say this.

"Have you tried losing/gaining weight?" It makes very little difference. -10/10, shut up and mind your business instead of our waistlines.

"You're not really trying to get better." Yes, yes we are. And this doesn't do anything but anger us. The very notion we like being this way implies just how dumb people can be. -1000/10, just stop this crap.

[halloweenrazorcandii]

Monster - Dodie. @anonbinaryweirdo Zephyrine scene.

"Well this ends bad then. I knew it would. We knew it would, So we won't eat our words, 'Cause they don't taste good." Zephyrine has always had a feeling, a funny feeling. That her marriage and seemingly monogamous love for the funny, prepped demon father, King of Hell, she thought she would last lifetimes with. Whatever a lifetime in hell is, anyway. As soon as the dreaded Lilith had shown to their door, there's been a sinking boat in her vixen senses she hadn't noticed until she felt she needed to slam herself as far away from her husband as possible. Their son growing fond of the former Queen of Hell, she felt she couldn't drag him away. She'd see them post pictures having fun on Sinstagram, going to hells luxury firey lakes, having fun. Lilith cooking her former husband dinner, happily serving Zephyrine's child, along with Lucifers she'd grown fond of. Like a family. No matter the tears and fears that had grown to the fox breed, no matter how many times she'd tear the fur from her tail or tug on her horns in agony upon just the thought of missing her life, she'd never gotten the audacity to let herself back in. "Look, I know that I've seen this before. High and mighty, at the top of your list, Adoring every move, and now my rank is sinking. But we're both guilty of black or white thinking. And through my red eyes, you look pale. All of your scars, Now look more like scales." 7 Months. 7 months without her family. During these times she'd confided in her loved friend, Angel Dust, a pornographical actor. He'd undergone some unfair treatment at his studio, since he'd "worked" there. Despite her not confirming the spiders own theories of her new behavior, she'd still appreciated his comfort. Though she felt she couldn't even find the feeling to appreciate. When Angel had come to the hotel with a black eye and slumped figure, Zephyrine had enough. She, one night, had strided to his studio, owned by infamous overlord Valentino. She had striken a deal with the overlord for Angel Dust's time of abuse to be replaced by her. She became popular by the viewers fast, Valentino using her body for all sorts of entertainment. She'd started appearing on bigger screens, deemed the audience. She hadn't enjoyed this. Not a bit. "I'm guessing that I've grown horns, I guess I'm human no more I can tell I've rotted in your brain. Oh how easily passion twists, You think I'm a crazy bitch. A thousand words are left unsaid, 'Cause no one listens to the dead. So maybe I will talk to you the only way I know how to. I've said my speech, through sharpened teeth." While at work, Valentino commands a new form of entertainment. Muzzling. The device is set on her, her fur sleek, she'd already been worn and used. The notice of the muzzle instantly clicks with the vixen, and she doesn't like it. At all. Her performance being shown on a big screen, just outside Lucifers tower, for all to see. All, to see. The crowd around the screen eminent. Zephyrine begins to growl. Her sharp fox canines peaking from her dirtied lips. Her claws hooking on anything they can find, and after being kicked by Val to "calm down", she goes batshit. From worker to worker anyone in her way, mauled. In desperate attempts to take off the Muzzle, she panics, scurrying around the studio, already breaking the chain attached to it. While the scene displayed on live hell camera, from the Voxtech Horns channel, it just so happened the King of Hell was looking out his window as his worst nightmare shone upon to the entirety of the Pride ring. It was almost as if the violence in the porn was being taunted. Was this planned? Lucifer began to shake. After failed, desperate attempts to subdue the rabid animal let loose in their studio, an employee, a likely familiar one at that, resorts to last option. Click. . . . Boom. The silence rattled all of Hell. Lucifer turnt away, only to find two of his sons, frozen in place, eyes locked to the device.

[i-am-thornqueen]

Give me a moment to scream into the void, okay?

I have managed a small triumph after being spitting mad for a whole week.

Drug-related pharmacist rant below.

There are a few drugs in this world that carry the label "do not fuck with me" and I happen to specialize in one of the areas of medicine with a gigantic 'do not fuck with me' drug: clozapine.

It's an antipsychotic, and it is more or less one of the biggest guns we have for treatment-resistant schizophrenia. But it is also a drug that needs to be treated with respect. It can do its job, and it can do it really fucking well, but there are trade-offs that require close monitoring in the beginning because if you don't, there are consequences.

This drug means so much business that when you start it, you have to be registered with a monitoring network of the brand of clozapine that you are started on. In the beginning, you need to be monitored for things like myocarditis (inflammation of the heart muscle, can be fatal), ileus (intestines stop moving, can be fatal), agranulocytosis (white blood cells basically disappear, can be fatal), among a host of other things.

It SOUNDS terrifying, I know, but the risks are low and we monitor patients to ensure that the moment it looks like anything is happening, we intervene IMMEDIATELY.

So imagine my ever-loving shock when I get a heads-up from my hospital that a clozapine patient's been admitted and they're not registered to any monitoring network. I called ALL of them. No one has eyes on this patient. I call the community pharmacy and find out they have failed to do their bare minimum due diligence of making sure the patient is registered and monitored.

Come to find the prescriber is not a psychiatrist, just a generalist.

We are not treating for treatment-resistant schizophrenia or any other severe condition which would necessitate the use of a big gun drug that requires massive amounts of monitoring.

No.

We're treating dementia-related agitation.

Dementia. Related. Agitation.

Who the FUCK prescribes clozapine - CLOZAPINE - for dementia-related agitation????????????????? You guys didn't even try anything before that??????????? There are so many things you could have done before you resorted to the nuclear option!!!!! Literally, you could have tried ANYTHING. There is TONS of information available for non-pharmacologic and pharmacologic recommendations to address agitation before you resort to clozapine, of all drugs. Literally, clozapine has an increased mortality risk in patients with dementia-related psychosis, so like, you have to think real long and hard before choosing this one.

But this random-ass doctor with no specialization in psychiatric medicine went 'nope, fuck it, common sense out the window' and reached for clozapine before he tried anything else.

And then the pharmacy went 'yeah, sure, that's completely normal' and started dispensing the med without making sure the patient was registered and appropriately monitored.

And now they're my patient.

So for a week, I've been trying to get this poor old patient sorted out with any semblance of sense to his medications and monitoring. Community pharmacy been giving me the run around. Prescribing doc is AWOL. The doctors in my hospital understand that you need to treat this drug with the respect that it deserves, so they've been wary to touch it.

Step by fucking step, I've been making headway. First, got the blood work ordered so I could prove to myself and god that SOMEONE was going to do the blood work. Got the drug placed on hold because, come to find, the spouse hasn't even been giving the clozapine as prescribed and was giving such a low, low, low dose that it probably wasn't even having any therapeutic effect - which, unfortunately, means nothing when myocarditis and agranulocytosis are not dose-related conditions. They just fucking happen.

And THEN when a new doctor tried to restart the med, I intervened and went to bat for this patient. Like, NO, you are NOT giving them the nuclear option antipsychotic at such a low dose it will have no effect but will put them at risk for every terrible thing under the sun. It's for AGITATION for god's sake, and the patient isn't even agitated!

So it goes back on hold.

Now, today, I do all my follow-ups and find the community pharmacy fucked off again. The monitoring networks still have not heard of this patient. I decide I'm making a call on this. Enough is enough. Patient has not had the drug in over a week. It's basically gone from his system. There is no sign of agitation to the degree that they require chemical restraints. They got dementia, that's it. Can be addressed in a more reasonable manner.

Call up the doc. Plead my case. He agrees with my assessment, orders clozapine to be discontinued, HALLELUJAH, he'll monitor for agitation and treat with a more appropriate drug, like QUETIAPINE (still not a fave, but gold-plated next to clozapine in this instance). Doc PROMISES to make it clear on the discharge that clozapine was discontinued.

I breathe a sigh of relief I've been holding for a week.

I have accomplished one (1) thing today, and it was worth it.

Moral of the story is: don't fuck with clozapine in my town and let me find out about it. I will hunt your pharmacy down, your doctor down, your family down, your monitoring network down, and I will chew through a fucking brick wall to make sure you stay SAFE and ALIVE.

[trans-axolotl]

I'm facing 6 months of compulsory treatment right now. How did you survive?

💜anon, I so deeply wish that this was not something that either of us have been forced to survive. I'll share what kept me going and I hope that some of it can resonate with you.

First: Always remember that no matter what they try to tell you, what ways they try to dehumanize you, what ways they try to convince you that you are inherently wrong, or broken, or need to be saved from yourself--you are always the expert on what it is like to live in your body and brain, and you always have the right to define your own narrative and truth and experience. there were many times while forcibly hospitalized where there was nothing I could do to actually change the things that were happening to me because I had no power. all I could do in those moments was hold onto the truth that I knew I didn't deserve this and that even if no one was listening, I believed myself and I was bearing witness to the fucked up things that were happening and that someday, i wouldn't be so incredibly trapped.

secondly: do whatever the hell you need to survive without judging yourself for whatever you need to do to get through it. you do not have to be a "good patient"--you can be a "terrible patient" and that doesn't mean you're a bad person. during these last 4 months I was instituionalized, there was times that it was too hard to process the fucked up power structures and everyday violations because I couldn't process it while it was still actively happening to me. some days i needed to shut down and pretend that I was fine with everything happening and follow the rules and not let myself feel any rage or dream of what it was going to be like when i got out. other times, especially when i was younger, the only way i survived was by breaking rules, being a terrible patient, and demanding my autonomy in whatever way was accessible to me. sometimes that looked like destroying my room, swearing at staff, self harming because that was the only thing i had any fucking control over at all. and letting go of judgment for what I had to do to survive helped me get through it. knowing that I had so very few options and was doing the best I could to feel like a person and that as much as they wanted to make me feel like shit for it, I was not a bad person for needing to feel human.

thirdly: know your rights and if possible, have a person on the outside who knows your rights and can advocate for you on the phone. knowing your rights doesn't always mean much because hospitals and psychs still sort of break the law anyway, but knowing what your rights are about how many times you see your treatment team a week, how long they can commit you, what the rules are about forced medication and forced antipsychotics, what the rules are about restraints, visiting--all of that can help you advocate for yourself and recognize when the people in power are lying to you.

fourthly: there still will be moments of joy, even while instituionalized, and holding onto those and keeping them close helped me more than any of the treatment I received ever did. for me, becoming close to the other patients was incredibly healing. not always easy when we're all in crisis and don't have tons of emotional regulation, but listening to others stories, goofing around and rolling down the hallway together, making fun of nurses--the bonds I have with the people i was instituionalized with were truly lifesaving and taught me so much about what it means to love and take care of people. if you can, reach out to the other patients and get to know each other and how to share space with each other. it helps more than i can say. other moments of joy to hold onto--art, whether a million coloring sheets or graffiting onto the hospital walls, the moments you look out the window and see the weather changing, sneaking in vapes, little things like getting new bedsheets or if there's chocolate ice cream or learning how to do a handstand. even amongst everything, there will still be joy + love, and letting myself have that saved me.

fifth: depends on the rules of the place you can go to what is considered contraband or not, but bring comfort items, lists of phone numbers of people you want to stay in contact with, a journal, fluffy blanket, stuffed animals, art supplies, candy, comfy clothes, anything that brings you some peace. it really helped me to do a journal entry every day so that I could have some record of what was actually happening so that I wouldn't forget when I looked back later. that made me feel more grounded and secure.

sixth: Embrace whatever healing you can find in there. this doesn't have to be the bullshit you hear in group therapy or ridiculous worksheets, but if the shit you hear in group therapy works, then by all means embrace it. if embracing your rage helps, hold onto it. if other patients coping skills resonate with you, use them. it is incredibly fucking hard to heal while being instituionalized and there is absolutely no shame if you don't feel like you're getting better, but it's okay to find those moments of healing despite it all and fight for yourself and fight for building a better life in whatever way that means for you.

overall just know that whatever you are feeling--rage, sadness, pain, relief, fear, panic, grief--you are allowed to feel all of it and feel it as deeply as you need. you are not alone in this. I am so sorry that you are facing the threat of compulsory treatment right now, and know that I believe that you will survive this. depends on the rules so I don't know if you'll have your phone while you're in treatment or not, but feel free to come back, ask for advice, complain as much as you want because it can really fucking suck. know that you are allowed to take up space, you are allowed to exist as a full person with wants, opinions, and desires, and that you are allowed to be struggling, wanting support, and that you never deserve to be locked up and be treated as anything less than the beautifully complex and worthy person that you are.

followers who have faced forced psych treatment before, if you have any words of encouragment or suggestions for anon, please add on <3