#all sorts of ulcers

[goldkirk]

.

[asgardian--angels]

it's kind of funny to me, albeit very interesting, that I'm a very picky eater and yet have also become a locavore and something of a 'foodie' per se, I really enjoy food (and cooking!), and going to unique and sometimes upscale restaurants serving ~local ingredients~ and I really value a quality dining experience and learning the character of new places through their food. yet I got a 29 on that picky eater test lol

[kittlyns]

Samsung guy also had the audacity to tell me to "just make a new account" and I got so mad cuz like. my only hope of seeing any of my memories from the past 5 years of my life are connected to that one account, and it's not even a guarantee. But it's still a small hope and I'm not giving it up.

[girlscience]

wanting to be upset at someone but also rationalizing all of their actions because they have a huge smattering of trauma, emotional processing problems, adhd, and severe anxiety... sucks ass.

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Finally getting help (prt 9)

Masterpost

“So where’s the brother?” Jason asked as he followed Bruce down the hall. 

“He’s in Tim’s lab. It seems like they’ll be able to share it, which is good even with as big as this place is I don’t think we have room for two mad science labs,” Bruce said with dry humour, making Jason laugh in spite of himself.

“Tim must be thrilled to have a buddy huh?” He asked, still chuckling. No one in this family was stupid by any means, he often felt like the dumb one and objectively he knew he was still a fucking genius. But even with all of them being That smart no one could keep up with Tim’s innovative and scientific mind. 

“I think he might even learn a few things, which is a frightening concept. Danny asked for microwaves and toasters this morning so he could cannibalize them into anti-possession tech. The way that boy combines science and magic is going to give both me and Constantine ulcers.” 

Jason snorted, both at the joke and maybe a bit out of pleasure that someone was going to be giving Bruce a hard time. “Well if you need a babysitter don’t call me. I don’t want to deal with any of that,” he chuckled.

“Oh absolutely not, you would only feed into the chaos,” Bruce said quickly making Jason cackle, because he was right.

“Alright,” Bruce murmured to himself when they reached the closed door to the lab, it was almost lost in the banging inside but Jason heard it. Heard Bruce bracing himself for whatever was going to happen when Jason and Danny met.

He opened the door and across the room Jason saw who must be Danny. He was prime adoption bait with his black hair and blue eyes, but he was… absolutely beautiful, slight and elven, gently curved and wired with muscle. Jason froze, and it seemed so did Danny, staring at each other from across the room. Butterflies fluttered in Jason’s stomach, building till they didn’t feel like butterflies but something buzzing, trying to get out. He could hear the growl coming from his chest, not his throat.

Danny’s eyes swirled with green and he vaulted over the work table, abandoning the half finished tech he was working on to lunge at Jason. He collided with Jason with a snarl of his own, Jason growled and flipped Danny over his shoulder, the hall was a closed space so Danny twisted, running into the wall feet first and landing in a crouch. Jason twisted so he didn’t have his back to a wall anymore as Danny lunged at him again and Jason dodged, pushing off the wall to give himself momentum as he threw himself after Danny. 

Danny grabbed Jason’s arm and used his momentum to throw him over his hip, following him down to the ground, barely missing as Jason rolled away. He didn’t even think to draw a weapon, that wasn’t what this fight was about, they weren’t actually trying to hurt each other. Even as Jason punched down so hard he cracked the floor he somehow knew Danny would dodge, and wouldn’t get hurt. And Danny did, he got out of the way and lashed out in return, kicking Jason in the chest and sending him flying a few feet back giving Danny time to scramble back to his feet and chase after him.

This give and take carried them down the hall and to the landing by the stairs. Somewhere in the background Jason knew that someone was shouting at them to stop, and to be careful, but he wasn’t listening. He was too focussed on the growl emanating from Danny, and from himself which were starting to smooth out again, to feel less like desperate insects trying to escape and more like a cat’s purr, or some sort of song. They were reaching equilibrium, some sort of harmony. 

He didn’t realize how close they were to the stairs until Danny knocked him back again and this time when he stepped back he didn’t land on solid ground. The two of them tumbled down the stairs, rapidly switching who was on top as they fell. Jason could feel himself collecting bruises but he didn’t fucking care.

They came to a halt at the bottom of the stairs with Jason on top, his forearm pressed against Danny’s chest just below his throat. They were both breathing hard, staring at each other with wide blue-green eyes. The growling died down, lowering down into purrs harmonizing with each other as they caught their breath. Jason’s was lower and Danny’s a little higher, it was a hypnotic sound that made Jason feel… peaceful.

Danny moved first, reaching up slowly to touch Jason’s face, but before he could Jason realized what they had done and the position he was in. He had fought with Danny, and he was now pinning an abused teenager to the floor straddling his waist. This looked bad and now that he realized what was happening it Felt worse! He practically shot up off of Danny and was about to bolt before Danny grabbed his hand.

“Wait! Don’t go yet! Let me just, let me get you a specter-deflector so no one can possess you first okay?” Danny asked, sounding oddly desperate and even though Jason wanted to run he nodded.

Danny looked relieved and let go of Jason before suddenly flying up and through the floor above them. Jason blinked at the ceiling above him before looking around him. 

Oh dear, Bruce, Tim, Damian, and Jazz were all watching from the landing above. Damian looked like he wanted to kill Jason himself, Bruce looked disappointed, Tim impassive and Jazz looked… Excited? Why did she look happy?

Danny flew back down through the floor before anyone could think of what to say. “Okay! Here’s the specter-deflector,” He said, clicking something that looked like a watch into place around Jason’s wrist. “That’ll protect you, this is a blaster,” he said, handing Jason an odd sci-fi looking gun. “It’ll reload automatically from ambient ectoplasm, it works best against dead and undead but it can hurt humans too. And.. um, this is my number,” He said, blushing furiously as he handed Jason a slip of paper. “Please text me?”

When had Jason’s mouth gotten so dry?! He had to lick his lips before he answered, painfully aware of how hot his cheeks were and that he must be blushing too. He didn’t blush much, not since his death and resurrection, but he was absolutely blushing now, and he was still purring too if more softly now. He didn’t even know that he could purr, not really. “Ya, Yes, I’ll text you,” he promised before he fled the house. He would have to have some of Alfred’s lasagna later, just then he desperately needed to calm down and clear his head.

-----

Jazz was practically vibrating with excitement and as soon as the door had closed behind Jason she couldn’t contain it anymore. She squealed as she vaulted over the railing of the landing and landed in the foyer and sprinting over to Danny. “Danny what the heck! You have a crush?! I haven’t seen you that passionate in ages!” She enthused scooping Danny up under his arms and twirling him around.

“Jaaazz,” Danny complained even as he went kitten limp in her arms letting her hold him at arms length nearly a foot off the floor.

“I didn’t even know you liked boys! Why didn’t you tell me you like boys!?” Jazz demanded, shaking him a little.

“I didn’t really, I mean I always preferred girls. The only guy I ever really had a crush on was Dash and-” He cut off when Jazz made a disgusted face. “Exactly! That was never going to happen and he was an asshole so I didn’t want to talk about it!”

“Okay ya I understand- Wait you were making fun of me for having a thing for bad boys when your type is asshole meathead jocks!? Ohhh you’re never going to hear the end of this baby brother!”

“Oh my god No!” Danny groaned, finally squirming out of Jazz’s hold and dropping back to the ground stepping back. 

He turned towards the Wayne’s who had made their way down the stairs while the siblings were talking. “Is Jason an asshole?” He demands of Tim, he’s probably the fairest judge in Danny’s estimation.

“Absolutely,” Tim said promptly before realizing what he said and backtracking a little. “But I’m his brother, I'm supposed to say that. Jason’s heart is in the right place, he's a good guy, just kinda violent and a complete jerk,” Tim said. 

“Perfect,” Danny said his expression a little dreamy. 

“Why on earth would you have a crush on Todd?! You could do so much better!” Damian squawked indignantly, breaking the tension and making everyone besides Bruce laugh, and even he smiled just a little. 

“I want to say you did well Bruce, I know it was hard not to break up the fight but so? It was good for them, I hope it won’t be too hard on you if they do end up dating,” Jazz said, patting Bruce’s arm. 

He shifted from one foot to the other a little awkwardly but then shook his head. “No it won’t be, I mean it won’t be the first time, Barbra was as good as my daughter and she dated Dick, and Steph and Tim dated. It’s always a little awkward but I’d rather that than a Super,” He said, shooting Tim a look, he cleared his throat and looked away.

“Well good, we’ll see how this works out but really,” she turned back towards Danny. “This could be good! You’ve always been attracted to violent people but I don’t think that your ghost instincts realized that when Val was shooting at you it wasn’t bonding for her the same way it was for you,” she told him, her tone borderline accusatory.

Danny looked down and shifted from side to side, giving a little shrug. “I know, but she was a good girlfriend, when she wasn’t being Red Huntress and I wasn’t being Phantom. When we were just Danny and Val, it was good.”

“Oh Danny,” She sighed and pulled him into a hug. “I know, but he has the same instincts as you, I’m rooting for you Danny.”

“Thanks Jazz,” Danny said softly, hugging her back.

“Welp, I’m heading back to the lab,” Tim said, obviously uncomfortable with the genuine emotions he made a break for it before he could get roped into any hugs.

Next

[sokosmic]

Astro Observations #8

📧 Scorpio placements love to probe people for information. This is actually something that comes very natural to them and is often an unconscious behavior. Often the Scorpio doesn't even have to do anything. People tend to reveal themselves willingly and unwillingly. This is the nature of Pluto. It naturally uncovers whatever is hidden. Planets in the 8th House can behave this way as well.

📧 The sign in your 3rd House can give clues about the type of work you may be involved in. Because a theme of the 3rd House includes short distance trips, such as your day-to-day commute, the sign ruling this house often goes hand-in-hand with your work. For instance, I have Leo in the 3H. Leo rules government (source: the rulership book by rex e. bills). I have worked in government for almost 20 yrs.

📧 Mutable Signs/Placements move on their own time. Even if they are punctual, their desire to do things when they want takes priority. It's the nature of scattered energy.

📧 Saturn in the 4th House can indicate karma with the mother or native's family. This placement often requires a lot of obligation to the mother/family . The native feels bound by the obligations and often wishes to escape, but may also feel a sense of duty and embrace their role as the glue in the family. Capricorn ruling the 4th House may also manifest this way.

📧 A 1st House Lilith may attract unsolicited sexual energy. These people have a very natural sex appeal that they may or may not be aware of. And it may not be because of what you would identify as things that are overtly sexy

📧 I've noticed a theme among women with Capricorn in 5th House or Ruler of the 10th in the 4th House is they are often stay at home mothers.

📧 People with Pluto square Mercury have a real tendency to try and tear you down with their words. This isn't always the case, but if threatened or feel they need to gain the upper hand in a conversation, they are very likely to lash out with viscous words. Mars square Mercury can behave similarly, but they are usually the folks that tend to cut others off in conversation.

📧 Cancer placements would much rather purchase you an item than to share that item of their own. It's not that they are necessarily stingy, they just like the security of knowing something belongs to them and exactly when they may need to replace it.

📧 Mars in Libra people can be big procrastinators because they have a tendency towards indecisiveness. These are people who sometimes ride the fence because Libra energy can see all sides.

📧 If you've ever had a terrible experience with a supervisor that goes overboard with micro-managing, it is very likely they are Pluto in Virgo generation. These folks thrive off of getting down to the details, and having some sort of control over outcomes, so nothing goes unnoticed...including EVERYTHING you do lol.

📧 People with Cancer in the 6th House or Aquarius Risings may be annoyingly anal, but in a kinda good way, about taking care of their coworkers or things in the workplace. They may tend to stress over things being out of place or generally keeping up with how things should be "taken care of" in the work environment. This stress can lead to gut and stomach issues, such as ulcers or indigestion. Their daily routines often involves them taking care of things to ensure security for themselves and others.

📧 My studies have shown that the North Node sign and placement, often correlates to the native's Life Path number!

📧 Pisces Mercury / Pisces 3rd House folks are some of the most difficult people [for me] to understand at times! Their minds and mode of communication can be very abstract, which isn't hard to follow (especially if you are Mutable/Mercurial like me), but at times it's like you think they are saying one thing, but their theory isn't translating into a relatable, concrete concept. And there's nothing wrong with that. Pisces Mercury people are HIGHLY creative and artistic. These are your fashionistas, makeup artists, musicians, and poets. They also make great actors.

📧 Moon in Gemini folks can be some of the best storytellers! They use lots of funny words and phrases to express their emotions through their stories. They often get a bad rap for switching up often, but to me, they have an impressive way of intertwining emotions and intellect. If I had to describe them in 2 words, it would be plot twist lol.

📧 Neptune in the 5th House can cause pregnancies to be elusive or deceptive in some form, such as false signs of pregnancy or having difficulty carrying pregnancies to term.

These are my observations and opinions. Take what resonates and leave what doesn't!

-So.Kosmic 👽💜💫

[tk-duveraun]

Idk I just really want SY overwhelmed with guilt for taking SJ's life and going through hell to bring him back ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

Maybe a no-system AU where SY has a full melt down on day one right all over YQY because *he didn't want this*. He didn't want to kill someone else just so he could have a second life.

MQF world be called in and suspect SJ just has a mental break or something, since that's far more likely than this soul usurpation, but YQY overrules him bc there's no way this is SJ no matter how addled

Bonus points if airplane DOES have a system and is sweating bullets throughout all of this.

Maybe LQG gets sent with SY to find whatever plot device while YQY keeps up appearances and LQG falls for this wet dog of a man who just bleeds self sacrifice.

Eventually they get back to the sect and SY is waiting while they prepare a ritual or whatever and goes "oh shit, wait, the protagonist???" And is like "hello, you're my child now. Liu-gege, help me raise my child"

SJ comes back, pissed, SY is a spiritual creature of some sort (Empty Blossom of Moonlit Purity? Withers instantly on contact with demonic qi). SJ is talked down from vengeance since SY did immediately try (and did manage) to save him.

SY just takes LBH with him to go live on BZ.

SJ and YQY have a knock down drag out fight about how dare YQY save his life this time. How stupid is he to bring back a critical weakness? SJ ends up injuring YQY pretty seriously (since he's not even trying to defend himself) and YQY confesses that SJ is with more than his own life and always has been.

(SJ now has no idea why Qige never saved him, still doesn't know about Xuansu, but there is some reconciliation)

(meanwhile poor Binghe is like "withers on contact? 🥺")

(if SY consumes the Sunlit Flower of Balance he loses that weakness, which he does, but then forgets to mention. So he goes traveling to observe demonic beasts and gives everyone stress ulcers)

[oppipopi]

fusions... again

It's time to add a hashtag

Plum

very homebody and not an adventurer at all

the social battery is quickly running out

does not get enough sleep (

very controlling, does not tolerate when something goes wrong according to his plan

caring, but shows it badly

loves loose gracefully flowing things

Ring

Pedant

looks and talks as if he is constantly flirting with you, but in reality nothing of the sort

very polite and well-mannered

(obviously it's from King)

Insinuating low voice

Coffee (yoink au)

6 fingers!!!!

prone to Self-admiration

married at work

will keep silent, but with What a face

he likes sweet pastries

the king of mini golf and billiards

SecRed

silly

good guy, but that won't stop him from kicking someone's ass

has poor control over his strength and isn't used to his size

it's useless to try to comb his hair

Peach

AAAAA WOMAN

business aunt

the best mom, loves to spoil her children and perhaps allows them too much

drinks a glass of wine every evening for peace of mind

super non-conflict, master of compromise (in fact, she makes you think that her ideas are your ideas)

if she had a workplace it would be filled with flowers

expensive perfume, as the meaning of life

only linen and cotton clothes

ChoReg

I'm not really a big fan of crackships, but these two… I'm obsessed with them

4 arms to kick someone's ass twice as effectively

the perfect fighter

an extremely strong sense of justice

can't stand weaklings who don't try to get stronger

Violet (tdl+purple)

thinks he's better than others

looks and talks like he's doing a huge favor

pubertal ulcer

wants to be the center of attention, but at a distance from others

secretly wants to be hugged and stroked and told how good and valuable he is

Dark Lily♀️ (tdl+orchid)

quiet, but very intrusive (always looming somewhere nearby and staring, trying to touch, but not daring)

can make a dark joke and get very upset because of it

loves children (maybe eats too…)

may seem shy, but don't be fooled

uncanny valley vibe

Orange (tsc+vic)

drawing - main fighting style

thinks that he has not inherited the powers of Second

hot-tempered, but knows how to express irritation in an environmentally friendly way

Lime (yellow+green)

the personification of the phrase "you're a capable boy, but lazy"

insanely talented and infinitely uninterested

lots of ideas, but too strict with himself to even try to implement them (why if it won't be perfect anyway?)

either indifferent and emotionless, or suffers from sharp changes in bright emotions

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 05

PREVIOUS

It might be objectively funnier if no one knows Fluent Freshman’s first name (even me because there’s some funny ideas but nothing as funny as “UNKNOWN” Smith) aside from Wymack.

Even the announcers just refer to him by his last name (maybe his first name is very foreign and hard to pronounce, maybe that’s why he got into foreign languages, maybe it’s so bland that the announcers just can’t his full name without yawning, maybe it’s just that someone else on the Foxes has the same first name so there’d be confusion, who knows) This only occasionally creates confusion because the Terrapins and the Ravens both have someone with the same last name as him.

Either way after one-two hit confidence crushing combo of the CVS girl knowing he has tummy trouble and the conversation with Neil where Neil asks about his stomach ulcers FF utilizes all of his years of learned behavior to fully fade into the background. Wallflower? No man I’m Wallpaper you cannot see me.” This has unintended consequences.

1. He has become undetectable which means that he is now, once again, hearing all sorts of relationship talk but now it’s not just between Captain Neil and Andrew Minyard and their surprisingly soft private life.

He is subjected to Nicky gushing to Erik in German. He has to listen to Kevin talk to someone named Jean in French (he only finds out later that they’re NOT dating but it sounds like date talk...though most of his experience is listening to Captain Neil and Andrew Minyard loving say they hate one another so maybe he has a bad pool of knowledge.) Matt, Aaron, Jack, and some of his other freshman players all speak in English but CHRIST he wishes it was in any language he doesn’t know. (If he hears Jack say ‘Yeah sure whatever Babe.’ one more time HE’S going to slap the asshole for being so dismissive to his girlfriend.)

2. He has become objectively better at being a defensive dealer because other teams just kind of don’t notice him and pass right to him. Kevin wants to study him on what about him makes him so adept at causing unforced errors in objectively better players. Fluent Freshman, having been yelled at by Kevin more than once, takes the moment Kevin’s eyes are diverted by Captain Neil saying something and just slides out of his seat into a different seat (Middle of the bus. The least noticeable section) and puts up his hoodie and pretends to sleep. (he does not. what if he drools? It’s already hard enough getting sleep in a room with two roomies. He got to campus earliest so that he could claim a top bunk so no one could see him even if heights make him nervous.)

3. Since he has become undetectable that means that Andrew Minyard and Captain Neil have a hard time detecting him. So he has not had to endure their silent judging company. He is sure that Andrew is waiting for him to slip and he’s also sure that Captain Neil thinks he’s stupid. No other freshman gets as much homework help from the Captain as he does. Still, he doesn’t have to sit in the silent knowledge that they both dislike him enough that they want him to know it. HIs ulcers are starting to get better and the girl at the CVS (He’d have to have a whole conversation to change where his prescription is filled and he’d rather die) didn’t even recognize him when he came in for a refill on his prescription or note that he was buying pepto bismol again.

HOWEVER

This means that Neil has come back with slumped shoulders and uneaten snacks the last five times he’s gone for his usual hangout. They are never planned hangouts it’s just that FF is always in the same 3 locations because there are only so many spots on campus where your back is completely secured and that weren’t so intimidating to go into (The library is terrifying. What if he sneezes???) and for the last two weeks Andrew has been unable to find FF outside of practice either.

(It has to be stated that FF is in the EXACT same spots as before but he is in stealth mode and therefore only visible if you are a mantis shrimp.)

Andrew Minyard does NOT like this. FF is THE singular tolerable teammate. Andrew likes the decompression time  he gets when him and FF sit in quiet and do their own things. FF never asks for his attention but occasionally offers him good german literature recommendations for every stage of literacy ever since Andrew had mentioned wanting to get better at the written language so he wouldn’t have to rely on Neil or Nicky when the Monsters vacationed there next summer. He doesn’t call people friend easily but FF is a friend.

So it’s incredibly irritating that for the last two weeks he’s been completely unable to grab that friend and ask what the hell is going on. The Foxes have histories and it wouldn’t be the first time a Freshman’s past caught up with them or that one of them had something set them back into old survival habits. It’d happened with Matt, it’d happened with Aaron and Andrew, it for SURE happened with Neil, Sheena’s coping mechanisms had been the bane of Andrew’s existence the year before, some of the other freshman had setbacks this year and a few players over the years have had to leave due to the very circumstances that gave them a home with the Foxes. Andrew had never really cared as long as his people were fine.

It’s just that Andrew actually kind of cares about this Freshman, he considers him as someone who could be one of his people.

Which is why Andrew will keep stalking the campus around FF’s preferred haunts until he grabs him.

Andrew catches him outside of stealth mode (He had been using a urinal that is NOT where you don’t want people to notice you) and grabs him by the scruff. “We’re taking a drive.” he says and FF just sort of goes limp and lets himself be dragged off.

He hopes that he can write his grandma a letter telling her how much her love and care over the years meant to him before Andrew kills him. He’d even take if Andrew would only let him write it in his own blood.

NEXT

Per your requests:

@i-have-three-feelings, @blep-23

[lorei-writes]

It feels like I've been missing a lot of stuff on here... And I've definitely been behind on a bunch of things I wanted to tend to... Well, I suppose I owe you a little update ^^"

To start with, I'm not in any sort of emergency or otherwise dangerous situation. As some of you may know, I live with several chronic health conditions. One of them is ulcerative colitis.

I've had a rather unlucky streak recently and went from one major stressful event (very bad for UC), through having my period (aggravating for UC), to... summer changing into fall (bad for UC). The gut aspect of things isn't the worst, but the illness itself has been wearing me down for some time now and I'm feeling the consequences of it. ^^" I'm mostly just dizzy and very tired. The more serious stuff is all within the range of expectations.

It may take me longer to get to everything, but I'll get there eventually. I hope you guys are doing well! Or at least better than this, haha.

Keep warm,

Lorei

[zenaidamacrouras1]

Writing Modern Steve Roger's Health Issues: A compendium

AKA How do Steve Rogers' MCU canon illnesses hold up in a modern setting?  

I am writing something that is SO NICHE and so NERDY I feel absolutely, positively deviant about it. Who knew you could have this much fun while eating a burrito and sitting in the sun on your back porch? 

OKAY! This one goes out to all of you writing modern AU's with a modern Steve Rogers. (There are literally dozens of us!). Let's go.

So, I find it somewhat problematic when people write disabled or otherwise medically complicated characters and are wishy-washy about the diagnosis they have. In real life, everyone I know with ongoing medical issues is a fucking expert on their exact shit. A great tumblr reference for disabled characters is Cripple Characters, but I also use reddit threads to read about people’s day to day experiences with different issues in their own words. If nothing else, just decide what your character has and take ten minutes and read through a basic website article about it. 

So let's walk through what modern Steve's medical history and diagnoses might be. If you feel like I missed any details or got things wrong, happy to have comments to that end.

We'll start with the list of “ailments,” going with the MCU canon and combining the images from the museum exhibit and screen shots of Steve’s enlistment forms:

Asthma

Scoliosis

Fallen arches

Partial deafness

Scarlet Fever, Rheumatic Fever

Heart arrhythmia

High blood pressure

Palpitation or pounding in heart

Easy fatigability

Stomach ulcers

Pernicious anemia

Nervous trouble of any sort

Sinusitis

Chronic or frequent colds

Caveat: I am not a doctor, but I am a person who enjoys reading medical journal articles about illnesses I do and don’t have. The human body is a fascinating and terrible place to live. Talk to me about your medical complications - I will always find them interesting. I love small talk about Crohn’s disease and/or extremely graphic details about the time you had surgery because one of your wrist bones was the wrong length. 

Sucks To Your Assmar: Asthma! How has asthma changed? 

Kids who have their asthma well managed at a young age are going to have less scarring and lung damage (this is called airway remodeling). Thus a modern kid will likely have less severe asthma than a kid born in Steve’s time. Further, allergy medicines got way better from the 1990s, so kids with allergy induced asthma would have had fewer attacks. Fewer attacks as kids = less severe asthma as they age. 

I would also note that asthma is highly connected to environmental issues. If Steve grew up in a house with cigarette smoke, cockroaches, rats, or mold present, as is fairly easy to imagine, especially without dehumidifiers in a swampy Brooklyn summer, those are environmental factors that would have made his asthma much worse. 

They are also all factors that kids today certainly face, depending on how you write your modern Steve’s childhood. While people today certainly can have very severe asthma, it’s also entirely possible that modern Steve’s relationship to his asthma is pretty chill and easy to manage. (My partner has relatively severe asthma with a lot of environmental triggers; modern allergy medicine was a big game changer.)

Let’s talk about scoliosis ~~

There are a lot of variations to how scoliosis impacts people. I have very minor scoliosis and it's barely a thing in my life. I’m not trying to speak for everyone, but for what it’s worth, there are professional athletes with spinal fusion. I used Kyra Condie as my justification for writing climbing coach post-spinal fusion small Steve Rogers in one fic. My younger brother and best friend in high school both had spinal fusions. 

In reality the athletic and physical abilities of people with spinal fusion vary pretty much exactly as much as people without spinal fusion, so you have a lot of leeway for how you decide to write a character with scoliosis. I recommend reddit threads to read about people talking about how their bodies felt before and after spinal fusion, or why they decided not to have the surgery, if you want to get a sense of how it might affect your character’s day to day life.

Wait, so how tall is modern small Steve Rogers? 

You can see in this article that gains in height post scoliosis corrective surgery/spinal fusion varies, but the mean was 27 mm (1 inch) and the maximum was 66 mm (2.5 inches). 

The more severe the curve in the spine, the more height gained with surgery. 

We know Steve had scoliosis, we don’t know how severe it was (do we?). But if he was 5’4” without spinal fusion, and with all of his childhood fevers, and possible poor nutrition due to the Great Depression and untreated stomach ulcers, then it’s very reasonable that a modern Steve raised with proper nutrition and his gastrointestinal issues (see below!) properly treated and a spinal fusion could be easily 1-10 inches taller. 

I think it’s great if you want to write modern Small Steve as 5’4” - but I tend to write him as 5’7” or so. 

I think it is entirely likely that a modern Steve Rogers could end up being 6 feet tall given modern medical intervention and a healthy digestive system and adequate nutrition. As an example of how people with more or less the same genetics having different heights due to environmental factors, I know of one family of four brothers that immigrated from Italy in the 40s. Their height was 100% correlated to their age when they moved to the US/started having access to food: the oldest brother was around 5’4” and the youngest around 6 feet. The oldest was also a chain smoker and worked full time from around age 8, so you know, he was a fucking badass 5'4" Italian guy, if that's not clear.

What about fallen arches? 

Fun story, but I have fallen arches/flat feet and had a lot of foot pain as a kid, but I thought it was normal. I wear custom orthotics and/or birkenstocks and do exercises to strengthen my feet muscles and it's fine now as long as I remember to do the things I just mentioned. My dad had to have multiple surgeries on his feet, so I think it helped that they caught it earlier in me. 

Should I write modern non-serum Steve as deaf? 

Maybe! I think it’s lovely when people write characters with hearing issues. There are great blogs that cover ways to do that well (a good link, another one, and another one and I think this one on hearing aids is particularly good if you are trying to bring in subtle day to day routine differences a character that wears hearing aids may have. Another great option is, again, reddit, especially for questions around how sexual intimacy might vary in small ways that can be nice to bring in. (I am working on a fic with a seeing character whose ex is blind and also read a lot of couples first hand experience with sexual intimacy around that dynamic on reddit). 

But how likely is it that modern Steve would be deaf? 

I think that it’s reasonably likely that Steve’s hearing issues were a result of Scarlet Fever, which is a bacterial infection that can result in rheumatic fever, an inflammatory condition that develops in more severe cases of scarlet fever. 

Scarlet fever caused deafness - in fact, both Helen Keller and Thomas Edison had hearing loss due to scarlet fever infections. Further, sustained fevers of over 104 degrees can also cause hearing loss, so there is a reasonable chance that some other fever caused Steve’s hearing issues. 

Today, the kind of hearing loss caused by fevers and infections can usually be surgically repaired or never occur because we have better antibiotics and better medicines to treat fevers. However, I have a friend who has partial hearing loss and lots of other life long nervous system and fatigue issues due to complications from childhood chicken pox in the 80s (this vaccine came around in 1995).

I don’t know if it’s canon or fanfiction, but I often see Steve as having one bad ear. For what it’s worth, hearing loss in one ear is much less common than hearing loss in both ears. 

However, potential causes of hearing loss in one ear are infections that result in a high fever and some kind of head trauma, both of which are easy to imagine would have affected a Steve born in 1918, and while possible in a modern Steve, also easier to avoid. 

Heart Stuff: Heart arrhythmia, High blood pressure, Palpitation of pounding in heart, Easy fatigability

The aforementioned fevers that can cause hearing loss can also cause heart issues. I think it’s reasonably likely that Steve’s heart issues were from his fevers as a young kid, but I often write him with a congenital heart defect, because why not? 

These days, most of the time, such issues are detected at or before birth and fixed when the person is a baby, but there are plenty of heart issues that can require multiple heart surgeries at various points. Regardless, a modern Steve would most likely either have had access to corrective surgery or medication to manage these heart conditions. Which is not to say that he wouldn’t suffer mental and physical trauma from this medical complication. 

There are plenty of professional athletes you can find who have all of the above heart issues. And plenty of people with heart issues who have no interest in being professional athletes, so like, follow your bliss. 

Digestive System Stuff: Easy fatigability, Stomach ulcers, Pernicious anemia

I have easy fatigability under heart stuff too, because lots of shit can make you tired. 

My personal head canon is that Steve Rogers has celiac disease and/or lactose intolerance, it would cause all of the above. Both can also lead to poor growth - in fact falling off growth charts is one of the most common symptoms of celiac disease in children. 

While people have been aware of celiac disease since there were people, gluten wasn’t identified as the clear cause till the 50s. 

I typically write modern Steve with some kind of food allergy, and I think that addresses quite a few of his canon medical complications. 

Because so many causes of this category of symptoms are relatively easily solved with modern medical intervention/avoiding the problem, I would point folks towards Crohn’s disease if you are looking to write a modern character with medical issue that is more likely to be an ongoing source of similar medical complications today.

(Also, kids with Crohn’s are likely to have reduced height. I have a friend who has Crohn's whose 3 siblings are well over 6 feet and he is around 5'8" (so 4-6 inches aka 11+ cm shorter due to his severe childhood illness).)

Nervous trouble of any sort

Kids with medical complications and food allergies are much more likely to have anxiety. I’m so proud of all the kids making it through the day with anxiety. Luff you anxiety kids, I see you working twice as hard to be present as the non-anxious kids. Tough as hell. Give yourself a high five. I’m so damn proud of you.

Sinusitis and Frequent colds

I mean, god bless modern decongestants and allergy meds. Celiac disease and lactose intolerance can both cause sinus issues, so here is another one of Steve's ailments that can be "cured" through that diagnosis.

Other stuff

When you look at the above, you can see a lot of scenarios where modern era Steve, like many children/adults today, had multiple surgeries and serious and scary health complications as a child, but as an adult would appear as a relatively healthy able bodied person, with the possibility of even becoming a top athlete if he was so inclined.  It’s also likely that some issues like chronic fatigue etc, might linger into adulthood as relatively invisible illnesses that nonetheless affect his everyday. 

In some ways his character arc given the advances of modern medicine could mimic his arc due to the serum. 

Being medically complicated as a kid sucks. Even if you have surgeries to treat and/or learn how to live with things like Crohn’s and celiac and reduce flare ups, lingering mental health trauma can have an impact. 

Lastly and most importantly, I have a personal headcanon that young Steve Rogers of any era spent a lot of time sick in bed and staring into a mirror learning how to raise one eyebrow and perform other eyebrow gymnastics so he could more effectively sass his nurses. 

IN CONCLUSION:

I think it's actually reasonable for an author to say, "My modern Steve never had any fevers, and got his severe lactose intolerance diagnosed as a baby, and had good nutrition, had medications/clean environment that prevented his asthma."

So this Steve is 6 feet tall and healthy as long as he doesn't eat dairy and takes his daily zyrtec (cetirizine - it's an allergy med). The only medical issue he has from canon left is scoliosis, flat feet, and an astigmatism.

You can also choose to write a Steve with more complex medical issues, and there are lots of things that can be good and interesting and value about that. I think the main thing is to pick a diagnosis and write it realistically, hopefully this helps some with that!

[ohnoitstbskyen]

The Ulcerated Tree Spirit || Boss Designs of Elden Ring #6

The Tree Spirits are a recurring enemy in Elden Ring. You'll find them among the roots of Erdtrees, slithering their way through the thick brambles, and you will find them... disgusting, also, because they are inflamed and infested by god only knows what kind of disease, that has caused them to break out into ulcers and swellings.

While not the most lore-central bosses in the game, their names and presence among the roots of the all-important Erdtrees do imply that their appearance has some sort of meaning - if they are spirits OF the Erdtree, then surely their nature reveals something of the tree in turn? If if the spirits of the trees are so catastrophically ulcerated, so poisoned, so rotten, what exactly does that say about the trees themselves?

Of course, we don't have to assume the spirits are friends of the trees. Like most things in Elden Ring, they have a mythological inspiration behind them, which might imply different and rather interesting things about the relationship of these spirits to the trees whose roots they nest in.

[ssa-atlas-alvez]

And just because I love Laufey so much

Description: JJ and Cowboy hit a rough patch, the song is promise by Laufey (just in case you can't see it, Tumblr's being annoying for me)

Warnings: sadness :'), smoking

A/N: I'm just gonna leave this here... also thank for this, I've never heard this song before and am now obsessed! characters are a bit different to how I usually right them idk why it's just what happened lmao (also I'm hoping this tags everyone)

Taglist: @xweirdo101x@xdark-acadamiax@ara-a-bird@heidss@chubbyboyinflannel@pendragon-writes@migwayne@bigolgay@technikerin23@supercriminalbean@honestlycasualarcade@caffeine-mess@1s3v3n1@oddmiles@kevyeen@stealing-kneecaps@criminalskies@woodandwaxwings@wizardmon3@aphroditeslovr@ducks118@azeal-peal@13thdoctor-run@introvertpan84

JJ had been acting... Off all day. That was the only way you could think to word it. She just wasn't acting like herself and you had no clue. So, when Hotch sent you all back to the hotel for the rest of the night, once everyone had settled in their rooms, you left yours, gently knocking on her door.

When she opened it, she said nothing, simply moving to the side to let you in and close the door gently behind you. You looked at her, clearly concerned.

"JJ, what's goin' on?"

"I can't do this anymore." She admitted softly, frowning at you. "I'm so sorry."

"Do what?"

"This," She said, motioning between you. "Us."

"As in, our relationship?"

"I'm sorry,"

You looked at her, giving her a small nod. "It's okay, I understand." You answered. She was going through a lot right now. You weren't going to argue it. If this is what she wanted, then it didn't matter what you wanted. It didn't matter that the idea of her not in your life made it hard to breathe. It didn't matter that she was the reason you woke up in the mornings. It didn't matter. Because this wasn't about you. It was about her.

"See you tomorrow," You gave her a somber smile and gently closed her hotel room door on your way out. Leaving you out in the hallway, on your own. You gave a small sigh as you walked back to your own room.

You kept to yourself the next day, not offering up as many suggestions - only when necessary. There was no spitballing with Morgan and Prentiss, no actively asking Reid statistics.

This hurt more than anything. It felt like there was a hole in your chest and nothing would make it go away.

Eventually, Hotch pulled you to one side, you were clearly struggling with something and if the way JJ was acting was any sort of indicator, something had happened between the two of you.

"What's going on?" He asked, you looked at him, giving him your most convincing smile.

"Nothing, I'm fine."

"No. You're not." He folded his arms as he spoke.

"It's nothing. I'll stop letting it affect my work sir," You muttered before walking back to the group, opening a file as you did so. No one really said anything after that.

Sixteen days. Sixteen long days. You hadn't spoken to her outside of work for sixteen days and it honestly felt like it was killing you slowly. In fact, you barely talked to her at work. You barely spoke to the team at all.

You found yourself stopping your usual weekend bake, when you felt anxious you couldn't find the motivation to bake - decided to just let it fester in the pit of your stomach. If it gave you an ulcer, it gave you an ulcer.

When JJ met and started dating Will, you started to hurt in a way you didn't even think was possible. Each breath felt like it was tearing your lungs apart. It was the last straw, in a way. You had held out for over two weeks, you had ignored how much you wanted a cigarette, you had made your way through five bags easy of sunflower seeds. But nothing was hitting those cravings.

It wasn't JJ's fault by any means. It was just how things were. You had slipped off the mentally well bandwagon and that had led to smoking again. It wasn't like this was the first time it had happened to you - and as much as you hated it admit it, it probably wasn't the last, either.

But this time was... different, in a way. You no longer cared that it wasn't good for you. You didn't want to stop. And that meant not letting your team find out. So you'd smoke at night, during breaks, when you went alone on coffee runs, whenever you could without the team realising. It did mean, however, that you always carried gum and mints to make sure they didn't find out. You knew they would eventually, you just really, really didn't want it to be any time soon. If the team had noticed a change in your behaviour, they hadn't said anything. At least to your face anyway.

You met Will a month after JJ told the team about him, when he joined JJ to one of Rossi's family dinner. You were on edge as soon as you got there, wanting nothing more than a cigarette. JJ had given the team a small 'heads up' (not looking at you at all as she did).

"I'm thinking of bringing Will to Rossi's tonight," She said, giving the rest of the team a shy smile. They all smile back, stating how excited they were to meet him. You said nothing, she didn't look at you anyway, so it didn't really seem like she was looking for a response from you.

What did feel like a kick in the gut was actually seeing the two of them together a week later. You had told yourself repeatedly that you weren't going to get involved, but when you saw him on his own, you were approaching.

"Hey, er, (Y/N), right?" You nodded.

"I'll keep this short and sweet," You said and you're speaking before you could process you were speaking.

"Listen, you hurt her, disrespect her, do anything that may even hurt her in the slightest - feelin's or otherwise - I will kill you." You said, stepping closer, "I get it, I ain't her man no more, that's fine. But she's deserves better than you, better than both of us. So you need to treat her like it, you hear me?"

Will stares at you for a moment before he gives a small nod. "Good. Now prove to her that you're worth her time. 'Cause as far as I'm concerned, you ain't."

And with that, you left, fishing in your coat pocket for the cigarettes and lighter. You moved through the garden until you made it to his front yard, you were quick and efficient. When you were finished, you let yourself back in, running it under the cold tap before stuffing it into your back pocket. Only to then realise you had forgotten gum.

Holding back a sigh, you poured yourself a drink, which you shot back and placed the empty glass in the sink. You made sure to walk with confidence back to the rest of the group, ignoring how they all glanced at you in concern.

You knew you smelt of smoke but couldn't find it in yourself to care. A small part of your brain found itself asking if they really cared or if their concern was performative. Sure, Hotch had asked you what was wrong, Morgan had joked about missing your cookies, Spencer had sat next to you on the jet - quietly telling you random facts, and Prentiss would give you small smiles. Garcia would hand you one of her small figurines at the start of each case - that you would return at the end of the case and switch out for a new one when the next one began.

But you knew if it came to it, if it was you or JJ that you didn't stand a chance. And you weren't mad about it, you understood. They had known her longer. It just stung.

At some point during the night, Rossi sighed and sat next to you. "You wanna talk about it?"

"'M fine," You muttered, taking a swig of the beer you don't even remember picking up.

"It doesn't look it." He replied, "And you smell of smoke. Cigarette smoke."

You take another sip of your drink before you turn to Rossi, "Listen, I don't care if you tell Hotch or whatever, fine. But don't tell JJ, okay? She doesn't need to feel like shit 'cause I can't get a hold of myself, a'right?"

Rossi nods, "Okay, kiddo," He said, "I'm here if you need to talk though,"

You give him a small nod. You'd rather just fester with your feelings but you didn't want Rossi to feel bad. He sighed once more, patting your leg gently as he stood.

"And you're staying here tonight. You don't normally drink and you look like you're a lightweight."

[2btheanswertothequestion]

Lesson/Plan

Kissing Lesson #2

(Lesson 1 | AO3)

Eddie has a problem with obsessiveness. If he finds something he likes, he holds onto it. Delves deep. Becomes an expert. Previously, his obsessions were regular things that anyone with a modicum of taste might enjoy. Fantasy books. Heavy metal. DnD, naturally. All tangible-ish and accessible to him. Currently, he's not so fortunate. Because his latest obsession?

Kissing.

More precisely, it's kissing Steve Harrington.

Yeah. 'Shoot for the moon,' they said. 'You might land among the stars,' they said. Only he boarded a spaceship and didn't notice until he was walking on the sun, somehow making it back to Earth without burning up. And now… now he can't stop thinking about how to make a repeat trip.

He truly has no idea how. Zero fucking clue is what he has.

He's never done this before, y'see; he doesn't know how to proceed. Is it off-putting in the wrong way if he went up to Steve, his good buddy, and told him the friendly French kiss they shared changed Eddie's life? And yes, Eddie has no frame of reference, but he's nevertheless certain that no one else will come close to what Steve did to him. Is he allowed to admit that? That his first kiss is bound to be the best he'll ever have unless Steve kisses him again?

Everything Eddie knows about the world tells him that, were he to do that, his next kiss would be with a fist. Although, everything he knew about the world got sort of turned upside down mere months ago. Not just regarding the existence of monsters and mind-raping lichs, but also telepathic teens, reanimated sheriffs, Russians, and jocks who are nice. And considering it was the aforementioned nice jock's idea to kiss in the first place…

So, yeah. Pardon him for being slightly confused about stuff. Especially since Steve doesn't seem to share the confusion. No, see, Steve's gone on like usual, to the point where Eddie might've convinced himself it was a dream if Robin hadn't given him knowing looks afterward. Which means Steve told her. That's fine. Eddie expected nothing else. He hasn't told anyone yet – needs to keep this close for a while longer, roll it between his palms to get a better feel – but it's good to know he could without upsetting Steve.

Then, the remaining question is: can he talk to Steve about it without upsetting him?

Only one way to find out.

The keyboard click-click-clicks as Steve helps a customer find a movie she's rented before but can't remember the name of. Eddie hangs at the side of the counter, waiting. His plan is foolproof: ask Steve while at work so, in the case of backfiring, he can flee, fake his death, and vanish forever before Steve clocks out. Unfortunately, Family Video is bizarrely busy this ordinary Wednesday, and Eddie's been passing time reading synopses of unshelved VHSes and trying not to get caught staring at Steve as he works.

At last, she leaves (the movie she wanted was Gremlins – who the fuck forgets Gremlins?), and Steve is free to also lean on the counter. It brings him into Eddie's space, close enough to speak softly and still be heard; close enough to kiss- No! Bad, Eddie! Talk first, then kiss (hopefully).

"Did you want something?" Steve asks. "Or are you hanging around for the view?"

If he only knew.

Dropping the VHS back in the pile, Eddie smiles like he's not developing stress ulcers at this moment.

"It's about what happened last week."

"What happened?"

"You know."

Eddie taps his own lips; Steve's eyes widen in understanding.

"Oh, yeah." He nods, unbothered, as if this happens to him all the time. Shit, maybe it does. "Yeah?"

What Eddie's supposed to ask is if a repeat is in the cards. What actually emerges when he opens his mouth is, "Was that a good kiss?"

Look, he's working his way toward it, all right?

Steve scoffs. "Of course. I wouldn't let your first be bad."

"Right. Then I'll categorize it accordingly," Eddie says gravely; Steve lovingly rolls his eyes. "And… how did I do?"

"With the…?" Now Steve taps his lips (plush, pink, peh-lease get your mind out of the gutter, Eddie). "S'all right. Better than all right! It was good. You were responsive. But, uh, kinda passive."

Eddie, who's leaned in with interest in the feedback, recoils indignantly.

"Passive?"

"Uh huh. Most girls enjoy when you take charge. But some chicks like to call the shots and be dominant."

Eddie scowls. "I didn't mean to be passive. I wasn't sure what I was doing, or what you'd be doing."

"That's understandable. I didn't mind it. It was…" Steve smiles, eyes heavy-lidded in a way that doesn't make Eddie's stomach flip, nope, not at all. "...a nice surprise for you to be so pliable."

Passive. Pliable. Those words and 'Eddie Munson' do not go together! He's a man of action, a doer! And yet. For another kiss or two? Eddie could be putty, if that's what he needs to be.

"So, you don't go for dominant chicks then, huh?" he asks.

"I didn't say that. I'm fine with either. A good kiss from the right partner is… I mean, I'm flexible."

Shrugging, Steve then gathers the returned tapes in his arms and starts reshelving them. Eddie trails behind him.

"I seriously could do better, you know," he says.

"Hey, it's okay," Steve says without looking up from the movie in his hand. "You were good. With practice, you could be amazing."

Jackpot. The conversation is heading where Eddie wants it to. Now he just needs to give it one last push…

"'Practice'." Eddie snorts derisively. "With whom?"

He's about to lay down the final breadcrumb and say 'with you?', but Steve is quicker on the ball – looking over his shoulder, eyebrow raised, he says:

"I said it was lesson one, right? Kinda shitty of me if I don’t follow through with lesson two."

Eddie’s eyes might just pop out of his skull, they're bugging so hard.

"You- Really?" he squeaks.

Steve nods absent-mindedly, rearranging two VHSes that were ordered wrong on the shelf. "Why not? It's not like my recent dates have been mind-blowing – I'm not missing out by hanging with you instead. Honestly, I'd rather spend time with you anyway."

That sonofabitch. He can't say stuff like that. Not to a dude he 1) knows is queer, and 2) is offering to provide tonsil-cleaning for as a friendly favor. If Eddie didn't know he was straight, he'd assume…

Well. He shan't look down that hole, lest he falls in. Dwelling on impossible what-ifs will only depress him.

"So," Steve says, depositing the last tape. "Tonight?"

Kissing while sitting is different from kissing while standing.

Duh, right? But it's not something that even entered Eddie's mind until it happened. He can't begin to describe the differences, though, so don't ask him to – he's too preoccupied with memorizing the shape of Steve's molars.

They got into it immediately. He expected a degree of awkwardness when rolling up for his 'lesson', but Steve apparently doesn't do 'awkward' when it comes to making out. He just invited Eddie inside, told him to sit, and planted one on him the moment he got comfortable.

It's good because it's straight to the point, removes the weirdness and potential second-guessing. It's bad because the responsible voice in Eddie's head (which has Wayne's twang, if anyone's wondering) insists they must talk about it for real at some point. At the moment, Eddie ignores it – he's climbed into Steve's lap and is straddling his waist. He's not interrupting this for anything.

It begins uncertain, him hovering and his hands gripping Steve's shoulders. But as Steve's hands roam over Eddie's thighs and cup his ass, he figures it's time to stop thinking so fucking much and simply do. He lowers himself on shaky legs and grinds their hips together until Steve moans into his open mouth. Steve holds him closer, tighter, trapping the heat between them. The mansion is chilly, but Steve is warm and Eddie is sweating, damp spots growing in his pits and on his back. He's a wreck, just like last time, head spinning and heart racing, and he wants to ruin Steve the way he's being ruined. Give as good as he's getting.

Digging his fingers into Steve's hair – upper layer stiff with hairspray but softer underneath – and tugs. Steve makes a delicious noise; Eddie tugs again, and louder. Eddie pushes into him, curls their tongues, bites at Steve's lip, licks roughly when he groans, and starts over, all while tugging, grinding, tugging, grinding.

Steve breaks the kiss. His eyes narrow suspiciously.

"This is because I called you passive, isn't it?"

He doesn't specify what 'this' is. He doesn't need to. Eddie smirks in lieu of an answer; Steve huffs.

"You're a brat," he says.

"That's no way to talk to your student."

"This is no way to act with your teacher."

"You're not really a teacher. What are your credentials? Do you have a diploma?" Eddie gasps, melodramatic. "I bet you're not even licensed! You're more like a tutor. The smartest kid in class hired to ensure I don't fall even more behind."

"Oh, I'm hired?" Steve pulls Eddie flush to his chest, needing to crane his neck to look Eddie in the eye. "What's my salary?"

Eddie rises to his knees. He quite likes being taller than Steve. Likes those huge hazels looking up at him, pupils swallowing the irises.

"We'll discuss the financial details later," he says. "The point is, I'm your boss."

Steve rolls his eyes. Then he heaves them both aside, slamming onto the couch with him on top. Eddie squawks, his head nearly thumping into the armrest.

"Shit!" Steve says, panicked. He cradles the back of Eddie's head. "I'm sorry, did I hurt you?"

Eddie laughs. "I'm fine, dude."

Steve frowns, delicately prodding Eddie's skull as Eddie shakes, strings of giggles spilling out. It wasn't every day he almost got brained on Steve Harrington's luxurious white sofa while Steve Harrington laid on top of him.

Satisfied that Eddie's laughing fit wasn't due to head trauma, Steve's expression shifts from contrite to tender. He brushes stray locks off Eddie's face, the touch featherlike. As if he's handling something valuable.

It creates a lump in Eddie's throat that aches. This experience is alien. Wayne, bless him, while loving, isn't the gentle or sentimental type. In Hellfire they trade benign roughhousing and the occasional clap on the shoulder. Dustin is the cuddliest of them, but there's a difference between little-brotherly hugs and the sensual caress from a beautiful man, muscles flexing as he holds himself up in order not to crush you.

Eddie tilts his head up and looks at Steve, thinking Come on, please? Reading him like a book, Steve reattaches their lips; swallows Eddie's sigh.

These kisses are slower, lazier. They take their time exploring each other's tastes (Steve's is minty). His hand finds Eddie's, fingers splaying along each other before interlocking. Breaking the kiss with a smack, Steve then trails his mouth from Eddie's jaw, pausing to give extra attention to the scars, to the crook of his neck, nuzzling deep. It tickles – Eddie giggles and tries not to squirm, lest Steve stops.

"Is it always like this?" he asks, voice breathy.

"No, not always," Steve murmurs against his skin. "Only when… I'll tell you later, okay?"

Eddie hums in agreement. All his brain power is dedicated to keeping his dick in line, because as accommodating as Steve's been, even he must have a limit. He must. And Eddie's betting that limit is someone else's boner poking his leg. Steve's not making it easy for him – he nips at Eddie's earlobe, which is oh so good, then licks circles over Eddie's pulse point, which is even better, Jesus Christ.

Try as he might to avoid it, his instincts win: Eddie's hips buck, his groin rubbing against Steve's thigh, and the friction. It's delicious. Superior to what his hand or any pillow has ever provided. He could come just like this.

Steve flinches away with a gasp. His hair is unkempt where Eddie has run his fingers, mouth red and wet from the necking. Hazy eyes focus on the bulge in Eddie's jeans; he figures this is it.

"Oh, yeah," Steve says, as if he just remembered where he left his keys. "We can make this lesson two."

Sliding back, he unbuckles Eddie's belt. Eddie lies frozen, gawking as Steve deftly opens the cuffs and pulls the strap out of his belt loops. This can't be happening. He's hallucinating. He really did hit his head on the armrest and is stuck in a fucked up coma dream. His subconscious is taunting him.

He says, "W-wait, what-"

"You don't want that?"

Steve's eyes are huge; he's pushing out his bottom lip in an adorable pout. But why is he making such a perfect impression of a kicked puppy now?

Eddie splutters. "Do you? Are you okay with this?"

"Yes?" Steve says, the 'duh' at the end unspoken but still so loud. Except there should be no 'duh' in this situation. The only way this could logically happen is if Steve asked Eddie to jerk him. The wrong person's pants are coming off!

"You don't want me to, um, to you?"

Steve blinks rapidly, long lashes fluttering with surprise. "You've done it before?"

Eddie glares at him. Of course he hasn't! Not to someone else. But, "Have you?"

"No," Steve says evenly. "But I've had it done to me. I know how to do it. I'll demonstrate and then you can try if you want."

And what is Eddie supposed to say to that? 'No, thank you'? Perhaps if he were a stronger man. Alas, he has smoker's lung and failed PE twice due to lack of attendance. He has the ability to muster strength for amp-carrying and little else.

He says, "O-okay."

Grinning victoriously, Steve pops the button on Eddie's jeans. Pulls everything down. Doesn't comment upon the X-Men print on the boxers. Regards Eddie's cock, at half-mast and growing, with a fiery resolve. He licks his lips.

Then he dives and takes the cock head in his mouth.

Eddie yelps when the warm wetness envelopes him. He'd flinch too, if Steve hadn't kept Eddie's legs and hips in place using his own weight. As it is, he can do nothing but gawk, mouth drying where it hangs open, as Steve bobs his head up and down Eddie's dick.

It feels wrong to watch. Like this isn't meant for Eddie, even if it directly involves him. He'd sooner shave off his hair than look away, though. This is the front-row seat to the show of his life; he doesn't give a fuck whether his name is on the ticket.

Steve goes slow and deep, hollowing his cheeks and swirling his tongue. Drool trickles from the corner of his mouth, gliding along the shaft.

Eddie's panting, chest heaving so fast his lungs barely have time to gather oxygen. The sweat is pouring, pooling by his neck and in his palm and on his forehead. His vision blurs and darkens; he blinks to clear it because he has to see this. Has to drink in every second because his gut is already tightening, balls drawing up.

Steve pulls off, gasping for breath, but quickly resumes, flattening his tongue and running it up and down Eddie's swollen cock, so ready to burst it's turning purple. Steve's eyes are molten gold when he catches Eddie's gaze. Sizzling and gorgeous; they make Eddie whimper. Steve smiles, lips shiny and cheeks flushed. Then he drags his tongue over the bulging vein on the underside of Eddie's cock, moaning in bliss.

Eddie comes, a high-pitched whine ripped from his throat. He sags into the couch cushions, boneless, too weak to watch Steve lap the sticky spunk off his softening dick, but perfectly able to feel it. So he lies, eyes closed, breathing and feeling, breathing and feeling.

When done cleaning, Steve crawls up the length of him to collapse half on top of Eddie, half wedged between him and the couch's backrest. His own erection bumps Eddie's hipbone.

Eddie slurs, "Hey, d'you wan' me to…?"

Steve chuckles and presses a kiss on Eddie’s jaw.

"Dude, you're so out of it. Give yourself a break first, and then we'll see. Maybe we'll do it next time."

"Okay," Eddie sighs.

He snuggles closer to Steve and his warmth. The living room lights are too bright and it reeks of sweat and come and a chill is settling on his dick since Steve didn't pull his pants back up. It's quiet, though, excepting Steve's soft breathing, and the way Steve is stroking Eddie's stomach is really nice.

He relaxes in Steve's embrace, thinking about next time.

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

No taglist this time; don't ask for one unless you want to vex me.

Lesson 3 (eventually)

[goodqueenaly]

@althaeaofficinalis reblogged your post “One aspect of Baelor’s reign that I find...”

A part of me, familiar with this level of religious zeal in both history and irl, wonders if perhaps Baelor's choices (still earnestly meant through his own zealousness and belief in his ecclesiastical kingship) didn't also serve to place the Faith by his own direction. By which I mean: the High Septons Baelor had divine revelations about were a) conveniently not septons at all and b) were in no way educated or mature enough to navigate the poltical or religious function of being High Septon in their own right, and so by necessity would have to rely on Baelor himself to maneuver through those political minefields. This isn't to say that Baelor didn't believe in his own proclamations (really that's up for debate, on a sliding scale of cynicism, but I'm inclined to believe he genuinely believed in his own visions) - more that hmmm isn't it crazy how his divinely inspired visions led him to candidates who would be wholly reliant on himself to lead the Faith?

It’s an interesting consideration, whether Baelor was being deliberately ambitious and/or calculating in his choices for these two successive High Septons. I do absolutely see Baelor as an ambitious person, and I certainly think Baelor was not interested in simply allowing the Faith to run the country while he entered de facto monastic retirement. Still, I tend to think that Baelor saw himself as almost in a way above the Faith - again, a sort of divine right of kings, where he was to some extent on a pedestal above the Faith, receiving the instructions of the gods directly and then transmitting them to both Faith and people. He wasn’t trying to run the Faith himself, necessarily, but rather he was going to transmit to the Faith how the gods had told him they wanted the Faith to be run

I could also see where Baelor’s goal may have been less about attempting to control the Faith himself via a convenient puppet (or two) and more about forcibly humbling the Most Devout, perhaps in line with his own zealous humility.  Rigorously ascetic himself, and certainly willing to chasten the haughty - demonstrated in that anecdote of the “proud Lord Belgrave” made to "wash the beggar's ulcerous feet" by the king - Baelor may have been disappointed in or distrustful of the Most Devout if he saw this body as too comfortable, too removed from what Baelor may have believed were the fundamentals of the Faith of the Seven. If Baelor saw himself as a divinely appointed king charged with shepherding his wayward subjects back to the Seven - and I think he did, given his attempts to (as he saw) correct public morals by banning sex work and burning risqué and “sorcerous” books - then there may have been no reason, in Baelor’s mind, not to extend that purification to the Most Devout.

In turn, perhaps Baelor saw the remedy outside the Most Devout as an institution, a solution apparently validated by the gods themselves. If Baelor sought the will of the Seven beyond the persons of the Most Devout, then there may have seemed no better symbol than the Smith supposedly incarnating himself in a common stonemason, and then the Seven supposedly zoomorphizing themselves to appear before a draper’s son. The Seven, so. Baelor may have seen it, were using the lowest of his subjects, those people whom Baelor himself had emptied his treasury to provide for, to present themselves in the world, perhaps not unlike how they had in the days of Hugor of the Hill. Their appearance, as the king may have seen it, did not simply confirm Baelor’s rightness in caring for the smallfolk, but also seemingly proved that only the meekest and lowliest in his realm would receive the favor of the Seven. Just as the gods had, Baelor may have believed, struck down the Targaryen dragons to punish the Targaryens for their heretical Exceptionalism, so perhaps the gods had removed their favor from the Most Devout and designated the successors of the High Septon among the common people in order to show that even those at the highest levels of the Faith could be chastened if they were not pure and humble enough, the way that these smallfolk were. 

If Baelor was thinking along these lines, then perhaps there is a comparison to be made to the ascension of the High Sparrow in ASOIAF. Like the stonemason Pate and the draper’s son, the High Sparrow was very obviously not a member of the Most Devout, and was like them almost certainly a commoner himself. If the election of the High Sparrow - when “the sparrows came pouring into the Great Sept with their leader on their shoulders and their axes in their hands” - was something of a “vox populi, vox Dei��� moment for the Most Devout (at least in terms of the election’s spiritual justification), Baelor I think may have seen the same in his choices for High Septon - the voice of the Seven spoken, supposedly literally, through the mouths of these, to borrow the High Sparrow’s turn of phrase, “humblest and most common of men”. Just as the High Sparrow - who himself seems to hold Baelor in high regard - set the Most Devout septon Raynard to scrubbing floors and confined his Most Devout brother Torbert to a penitent’s cell, so perhaps Baelor also saw his reign’s Most Devout as needing similar correcting from a humble source. If Baelor would not literally hand the members of the Most Devout a scrub brush and a bucket (although I could see him doing that too), he might, nevertheless, have felt it prudent to set above them a master (or two, consecutively) who was (and were) from the lowest levels of Westerosi society, the better to remind them of their abasement before the Seven.

(To continue my pastime of paralleling Baelor and brother Daeron, to see them as more alike than they might appear at first blush - perhaps we can draw a broad parallel between Daeron’s governance of Dorne following the Submission of Sunspear and Baelor’s choice of first Pate and then the draper’s son as High Septons. Daeron had received the ostensible fealty of the Prince of Dorne and his vassals at the Submission of Sunspear, but clearly he was not interested in leaving Dorne in the hands of the Dornish following (what he saw as) the completion of his Conquest; instead, according to Yandel, “Lord Lyonel Tyrell was given charge of Dorne after the Young Dragon returned in triumph to King's Landing”. Just as Daeron had set above his (would-be) new subjects a governor not of their own body, as a sign of the king’s favor toward one of the most fervent supporters of his war, so Baelor set above the Most Devout two High Septons not from their own number, chosen for the divine favor seemingly shown to Pate and the draper’s son. Too, just as Daeron’s choice may have been intended to humble the Dornish and bring them forcibly into the feudal structure of his realm - putting them under the rule of a Reachman, despite or rather because of the historical animosity between Dorne and the Reach - so I think Baelor’s choice was designed, at least in part, to humble the Most Devout to the physical and spiritual meekness Baelor himself emphasized and prized.) 

I’m also reminded a little bit - I know, it me - of the seventh novel in The Accursed Kings, The King Without a Kingdom. The narrator of the story is Cardinal Hélie de Talleyrand, a very high-ranking and aristocratic French prelate. During the novel, the cardinal describes the three papal elections at which he, the cardinal, was eligible to be elected pope but always somehow missed the tiara. The election which clearly bothers him most is that of 1352, following the death of Pope Clement VI. Cardinal Talleyrand moans that during the 1352 conclave, “my impediment was … the fact that I was too princely … [t]oo grand seigneur, too extravagant”, and notes that “[t]here are occasions when the Church is seized with a sudden passion for humility, for modesty”. According to Cardinal Talleyrand, his fellow cardinals “wanted a man of the people … a simple soul, a humble being, a plain one”. While the cardinal, somewhat self-satisfied, remembers that he was “barely able to prevent their electing Jean Birel, a holy man – oh! most certainly, a holy man – but who hasn’t an ounce of a mind suited for government”, he concludes that he “managed to have Étienne Aubert proclaimed Pope, he who was born to poverty”. 

[annemiek19]

Ulcer - Jay Halstead

Your husband Jay Halstead has never been one to complain about anything. No matter how much pain he was in, you never heard him about it. The whole day Jay had been acting off, and you had a feeling that something was going on, but he was a grown man. If there was something wrong, he knew he could talk to you. You saw him sneaking off to the break room, while working on a case. You watched him as you saw him gripping his side. That’s it. You stood up from your desk and made your way over to Jay. You shut the door behind to you give you some sort of privacy. “Jay, what’s going on?”

He was leaning against the counter of the kitchen top. with on hand, his other hand still on the side of his stomach. “Nothing, I’m fine.” 

“Look at me and say that again.”

Jay slowly turned around, he was still leaning against the counter. He looks you right in the eye and said, “Y/N, I am fine.” 

But you could see he was lying. You could see the pain in his eyes. “You’re a stubborn idiot, you know that? You can’t to me, Halstead. I can see that you’re in pain. So you either say what is bothering you or-.”

Before you could finish your sentence Jay rushed over to the trash can and puked up blood. 

“Jay, that’s blood. What the hell is going on?” You helped him to one of the chairs. He sat down with a load groan. 

“I don’t know. My side has been killing me the entire day. I thought it was nothing.”

“Clearly it isn’t. Let’s go see your brother.”

Jay sighed, but he stood up. You quickly let Voight know what was going on before rushing to the hospital. 

In the car you called Will. 

“Will, I am coming to Med with Jay. He said his side has been bothering him all day and he just threw up blood.”

“Jezus. Okay, I will let Maggie know that you’re coming and get Crocket down here. Any other symptoms?”

You look at Jay. 

“Nausea, a little light headed,” Jay groans. 

“I also don’t think he ate anything today, Will.”

“Okay, we’ll wait for you at the parking lot. We’ll figure this out, Y/N.”

“Thanks Will. We’re pulling up in about two minutes.”

You hang up the phone. You quickly shoot a look at Jay. All the color has drained from his face now. God, you hate seeing him like this. 

Arriving at the hospital, Will is already waiting for you with a wheelchair. For once, Jay didn’t protest. 

Will hurried into the ED. “I’ll come find you when you can see him, okay? He’s in good hands,” Will said as he and a nurse helped Jay on a bed. 

“I know. Thanks, Will.” You looked at Jay before you made your way to the living room. You sat down and sighed. It wasn’t your first time in this waiting room, while Jay was in the ED, but every time it sucked just as much. All you could do was wait and you hated it.

“Y/N?” you looked up and saw Matt Casey from Firehouse 51 standing in front of you. 

“Hey, what are you doing here?” You stood up and hugged him. 

“Gallo got injured and we came to check on him. What are you doing here?” Matt asked. 

“Eh…” you let out a breath. You tried your best not to cry and be strong, like always, but seeing your friend here just made it a lot harder. 

“Everything okay?” Matt asked worried. 

You shook your head as you sat down. “It’s Jay… He threw up blood and has this pain in his side. He’ll probably be okay, but it just sucks you know? It’s not the first time im here, and probably not the last time, but I hate this. Waiting and doing nothing, not knowing how he’s doing.”

Matt sat down next to you. “He’s in good hands, Y/N.”

“I know… but still. It’s like he’s always the one getting hurt. Sometimes I just wish it was me, you know?”

“I can imagine, but then Jay would be thinking the exact same.”

“Probably. That man is just as stubborn has hell. Are all guys like that?”

Matt laughed. “Most of us are, yeah. We just don’t like to complain.”

“Idiots.”

Matt laughed again. 

“Is Gallo okay?”

“Yeah, just a few scratches. Look, I’ve go to have the station, but I’m a call away, you know that.”

“Thanks, Matt.”

“Any time. Let me know how he is doing okay?”

“Will do.”

You and Matt say goodbye just as Will walks into the waiting room. 

“How is he?” you ask standing up. 

“He has an ulcer,” Will says and suggest to sit down again. 

“An ulcer?”

“Yeah. Basically it’s a break on the skin, in the lining of an organ, or on the surface of a tissue.”

“Isn’t that caused by stress?”

“It could be. In Jay’s case I would probably say yes. He has to take some antibiotics for two weeks and take it easy. So no work for him for at least a week.”

“And then he’ll be fine? After those two weeks of antibiotics?”

“He has to come in again, but he’s likely going to be fine.”

“So we can go home?”

Will nods. “Yes, please. Take him home. He is being a pain in my ass.”

“Aren’t I always?”

You look up and see Jay looking at you with a smile. 

“He is on some pain meds right now, hence the happy smile,” Will says. 

“Thanks, Will.”

“No problem. Just keep him home this week, okay? Plenty of rest.”

“You’re no fun,” Jay sighs. 

You chuckle as you stand up from the chair and wrap your arm around Jay. “I’m glad you’re doing okay.”

“I’m always going to be fine,” Jay says as he kisses the top of your head as you make it back to the car. 

You roll your eyes. “Until you are not. Just please let’s stay out the ED this month. Just no more getting hurt or I will be getting an ulcer.” You get into the driver side of the car. 

“At least you’re driving now.”

“As if that makes up for you getting hurt,” you snort.

“Are you mad at me?”

“No… maybe a little. It’s more frustrated. You keep getting hurt and I am so done with it.”

“I'v only been to the ED twice this month.”

“Three if you include today, and that’s the bigger stuff. You had four times when you ignore the advice of a trained medic and just went home instead of the hospital. Jay, you are going to end up dead one day and I…” You couldn’t even finish your sentence. You park the truck in the parking garage of your building and get out the car as fast as you can. 

“I won’t. I’ve never been hurt that bad.” Jay steps out of the car.

You turned around. “Until you are!” You yell at him. “You don’t know how bad is going to be next time, and don’t say there won’t be, because I know you, Jay. There is going to be a next time. And one day, I am going to get a call that you didn’t make it. One day, you are going to get hurt so bad, that nobody can help you.”

“That’s not true, Y/N.”

“Oh, really? How do you know? You’re always the one getting hurt Jay. For the 10 years we have been on the job, I have seen Kevin in the hospital once, Adam I can’t even remember, Kim has been here once, I think I had to go to the hospital three times. How many times do you think you have been there?”

“What’s your point?”

“I think you have been there at least 5 times in a year. Whether it was a small cut or a freaking bullet hole. You have to stop getting hurt. Because what about me, huh? What about me when you leave? Have you ever thought how it makes me feel to be in that waiting room every time? What about me?” Tears roll down your face. “Have you ever thought what it is like for me? How it feels for me when you get wheeled into the ED, again and again? You’re not the only one getting hurt if you get shot again. I have to watch you in pain. I have to wait in that damn room, hoping that they will come out and say you made it and that you are going to be fine. But you don’t know how slowly the clock ticks when you’re waiting for those words. You don’t know how much it hurts sitting there, knowing that the love of your life might not come back.” A loud sob leaves your mouth. You step away from Jay and turn around. 

“Y/N…”

You hold up your hand. Hopefully Jay gets the hint to leave you alone for a few seconds. One day this fight, or discussion or whatever you want to call it was coming, you both probably knew it. You just didn’t expect so many emotions to come out. You take a deep breath before you turn back around. Jay is watching you with tears in his eyes well. 

“I love you, Jay. I love you so much, but you can’t keep doing this. You can’t keep getting hurt.”

“I love you, and I’m sorry, for all the pain that I have caused you. But all I am trying to do is protect you, make sure that you walk away without a scratch. Because I can’t loose you.”

“I can’t lose you. Just promise me one thing, because I want to go to bed right now and watch a movie.”

“Whatever it is, I promise you.”

“Just be more careful. I know this wasn’t the last time, but I can’t keep doing this. It’s part of the job, I know and I understand, but you don’t always have to be the hero, okay? At the end of the day, we both need to go home without a pitstop at the hospital.”

Jay slightly chuckles. “I promise I will be more careful.”

“Good. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Jay says before he kisses you.