#and all of next week is going to be worse because of it

[ivysangel]

imagine the sexual tension between you and college au!jason and y’all finally take care of it during a one-night stand at some random ass party and the TENSION ONLY GETS WORSE ⁉️ like first y’all were ignoring how bad y’all wanted to fuck each other and NOW you have to act like he wasn’t just devouring your pussy a few nights ago

-🦦

tutor!jason who your teacher sets you up to study with twice a week since he's acing the class. the first time you meet, it's in the library, and you almost sit down next to a different guy because jason doesn't look at all like the type to know the ins and outs of gothic lit. if he wasn't nose-deep in mary shelley's frankenstein you would've assumed he was a jock doing recon and looking for some pussy.

but he's not; he's actually really kind and smart and also really fucking hot. your tutoring sessions go on longer than scheduled because you spend more time staring at him than you should. you're actually kind of embarrassed about it until you catch him staring at you one day with a familiar look, one you'd given him many, many times when he wasn't looking.

from then on, things are pretty tense between you two, not in an angry kind of way, but more of an unprecedented level of horniness kind of way. and the growth of your friendship is temporarily stunted because of how badly you want to fuck each other.

but it all comes to a head at some dumb frat party. you're a little buzzed but still lucid enough to know that jason's out of place in this environment. he hates frats, hates the culture around it, hates the fact that he gets mistaken for one so often.

so why the fuck is he flirting with some random sorority girl who's trying way too hard to keep his attention. you're thinking to yourself, "he's not gonna fuck you." but you're not actually 100% sure about that, so you find your way over to him just in case.

his attention immediately shifts to you and little miss greek row makes herself sparse when she realizes his eyes are locked on you and only you.

you're making conversation, but it's kind of awkward; you were clearly green with envy over the prospect of him fucking someone else despite having no claim to him or his dick, and now you were just hitting him with a "sooooo fancy seeing you here!" and he's just looking at you; peering down at you with this look in his eyes that just so dark. unlike anything you've seen on his face before. and then he's finishing off his drink and asking if you want to go somewhere quieter.

ok, so boom. he's leading you up the stairs and into an empty room, and if either of you were sober or not blinded by an intense need to fuck the other, you probably wouldn't have hooked up on some frat guy's unwashed sheets.

and using "hook up" is generous because you're the only one that got anything out of it. he was pretty much hiking your dress up to eat you out before the door was fully closed, and he continued to stay there, between your legs, with his mouth sucking on your clit until someone knocked on the door and killed the vibe. #jasontoddcertifiedmunch

you thought the tension before was bad, but it gets so much worse. you start skipping your tutoring sessions, and the few you do show up to end early because you can barely look at him. you can't get the image of him licking his lips after eating you out out of your head, and it was beginning to drive you insane. 

he was also going insane, but for a different reason. while you were scared that it ruined your friendship, he was craving you more and more with each passing day, wondering where you'd be if you'd gone all the way. he was on the verge of knocking out the teeth of the asshole that interrupted you and shooting you a "u up?" text in the middle of the night.

[pleasantlycrazyworld]

Imagine a meet cute where Eddie is alone on a stormy night and he thinks someone is breaking in, but you’re just crawling under his trailer because there’s a stray animal under there and your rescuing it!!

Eddie usually didn't mind being alone in the trailer, being alone meant he had a sense of freedom to do whatever he wanted, but tonight is one of the nights he really wished Wayne was home. The news issued a severe thunderstorm warning that lasted from 2pm to 2am so Eddie made sure to have everything he needed prepared ahead of time. Pizza was on the table as was a few beers and all the movies he could ever want to watch was on the floor next to the couch. He settled in around 7pm and all was going as planned.

That was until 11pm rolled around. The storm was getting worse and there was so much noise surrounding the trailer that Eddie was starting to freak. As a trash can knocked over right outside of his window, Eddie finally decides to investigate. He puts on shoes and a sweatshirt and starts mumbling to himself about how stupid he is acting, "Why am I doing this? It could be a killer or some shit, what the fuck am I doing? Getting killed that's what you're doing Eddie my god." As he turned the corner he nearly screams as he runs into someone. He took a step back and realized that it was the newbie that just moved in the week prior.

He bite backs his scream and watches your movement. You lay on the ground and stretch your arm out as if you're trying to grab something that is under his trailer. "Oh sweetie come out please, it's okay I promise." He grows even more confused and curious as he watches you scoot to be closer to the side of trailer home. "It has to be scary out here all by yourself sweetie, I have some food you can have..." You call out trying to ease whatever is under the trailer.

He clears his throat and finally gets your attention. "Uh...What are you doing under my home?" He asks and if he looked any closer he would've been able to see your cheeks redden. "There's a baby possum...it's mother, well she didn't make it." You stand up, brushing off your jeans and start to explain more of the situation. "You know Susan? She lives like three trailers down I think, anyway she ended up hitting their mom and now it's alone and it has to be terrified! I mean look at this weather!" You started sniffling and Eddie couldn't tell if it was because you were crying over the situation or if it was because you were getting sick from being outside for so long. He really hoped it wasn't either, he'd hate for you to get sick but he also couldn't handle seeing someone so pretty and clearly so sweet cry.

"Look, I can try and help. I think I have some I don't know maybe some cat food? Would that help l think I have some, I know we have grapes..." You two finally agree on the grapes and about an hour later you finally rescued the baby possum from under the trailer. Eddie walked you and the baby that was just rescued to your trailer and you properly introduce yourselves. By the time you got to your front door the two of you seemed pretty smittened with one another and a date had been planned for the next night. Hopefully the storms would be passed by then and neither of you ended up with a nasty cold.

[morganski-19]

Chills Right to the Marrow Part 11

part 1, prev part

As fast as Eddie opens his eyes, he shuts them again. Falling back into the slow, deep breaths and constant heartbeats.

Something changed.

Wayne calls the nurse. They check off things on their charts, try to ask Eddie some questions. Like if he can move his hand, try to open his eyes again. Nothing happens. They say something about checking back every few hours.

He’s convinced that they don’t believe him. That they think he fabricated it all out of some hope filled delusion. Not like he’s been waiting here for days. Praying for his boy to wake up. Wishing in some miracle that he’d be able to smile again. All for it to be answered and taken away from him in a blink of his eyes.

But the nurse assures him that they believe him. Explain how most coma patients start to wake up with opening their eyes, moving their hands. How if he shows more movement while Wayne’s here, they’d like to know about it. Will be checking up on him more frequently, and in longer increments to try and document them.

It all sounds too good to be true. Like the last string of hope holding on to dear life. The only thing holding Wayne together. Tying him down so he doesn’t fall down and break.

He needs to get out of here for a while. Take a night for himself.

He drives around, burning gas traveling to an unknown location. Mindlessly following the paths he knows well. Drives past the trailer park three times, almost turning in. Only stopped by the construction signs blocking his path. Ends at the bar he would frequent on his nights off. Would get a beer to cool off after work. Try to forget about life for a while.

Forgetting sounds nice. Loosening the stress that knots in his shoulders. Be able to sleep restfully for a night. Refresh enough to walk back into that hospital room with a full basket of hope. All for it to slowly drain again.

It can’t drain this time.

Instead, Wayne brings himself to a gas station and counts the stray dollars and quarters in his glove box. Has just enough to buy himself a case of beer. Giving himself a limit so he doesn’t spend, or drink more than he can afford.

Sees Harrington and his brown-haired friend walk out of the video store they work at. Closing it up and heading to the diner down the road. Perfectly fine.

No matter how hard Wayne tries, the anger still points in Steve’s direction. For reasons he doesn’t even know anymore. More because it’s easy. They went through the same attack. Steve knows enough about Eddie from that week to have the answer Wayne craved.

But no one tells him anything. Continuously keeps secrets from him without good explanations. Makes this so much harder than it should be. Makes him down beer after beer, wanting to just make any of this easier.

Wayne wakes up the next morning with empty beer cans pressed into his side and a crick in his neck that won’t quit. Cracks his back in a way that just makes it worse. Cleans himself up, tries to wipe away the bags under his eyes. Scrub off the hospital and beer in the shower. Change into slightly cleaner clothes. Cursing himself for using his quarters for beer instead of the laundromat.

He makes his way to the hospital. Eating a shitty stale toaster pastry and hoping it’ll be enough. Knowing his upcoming paycheck will be mostly eaten up by all the other things before him. Walks into the room a little after eleven. A nurse asking Eddie question after question.

Eddie responding to almost every one of them. Opens his eyes when asked, then closes them again. Squeezes the nurse’s hand gently. Turns his head just slightly toward the light.

The hope basket overfills this time.

Dustin comes in the room a little after three. Bookbag thrown over his shoulder, ruffling through to find the book. Shocked still when he sees Eddie opening his eyes.

“He’s awake,” he says in disbelief. Tears starting to form in his eyes.

“Not quite.” Wayne gently corrects. “He still has a long way to go before he can respond, or even register what’s happenin’ around him. His body and mind are racing to get back in sync with each other.”

That’s what the nurses told him earlier. How he’s slowly getting there but isn’t all the way awake again. He’s there, and awake, but not all the way yet. It just all takes time.

“Can he hear me?”

Wayne looks at his boy, watching as his head turns ever so gently toward the two of them. “I think he might, yeah.”

Dustin leans forward, placing his hand over Eddie’s. Watched as his hand tenses at the touch. “Eddie,” his voice breaks. “It’s Dustin. You know, Henderson. I just wanted to say that you’re doing a great job. I hope you get better really soon. I’ve really missed you. And I’m sorry. You should have never been apart of this, I should have never dragged you into it the way I did. I wouldn’t have if I knew you would end up here.”

Wayne wants to know what this all means. What Eddie was dragged into. How this poor kid knew about it enough to drag anyone into anything. How dangerous this all really was.

But it isn’t the right time for these questions. Not for this kid to answer right now. He just sits back and listens to the next chapter of the book. Watches as Eddie responds to it. Is almost brought to tears with each time he opens his eyes to a part he likes. As Dustin stops just to make sure it’s true.

He follows Dustin out when he goes to leave. Sees how he runs up to Steve in the waiting room. Eyes closed and head resting on the wall.

“Steve, Eddie’s starting to wake up,” Dustin shares excitedly.

Steve picks his head off the wall enough for the visible relieved breath to show. “That’s-that’s really good, Dustin.”

He takes a pair of sunglasses out of his jacket pocket and slides them on. His head thunks back on the wall. Almost like he’s hungover. Face lost some color, voice sounding breathless.

“Are you ok?” Dustin asks.

Steve shakes his head gently. “Call your mom, can’t drive home.”

“Shit ok.” Dustin runs off to the nearest payphone. Pulling a few quarters out of his bag and dialing a number.

The brown-haired girl that Wayne should really know the name of comes down the hallway. Immediately knowing that something’s wrong with Steve and rushing over with a bottle of water. Asking him something before scolding about how he’s going to put himself back into a hospital bed.

Wayne’s not so sure this is just a hangover.

“How bad’s the pain?” The girls asks, pouring some of the water onto a tissue and pressing it against Steve’s head.

“Eight,” Steve exhales. Fighting like he’s about to puke.

The girl must realize this too, as she slings one of his arms over her shoulders and basically drags him to the bathrooms.

Wayne’s starting to realize that there’s a lot he doesn’t know. Made harsh judgements that might have not been deserved. He’s starting to realize that he wants to know what happened. To all of them. About all of them. Why this group of people know each other and how it all connects to Eddie.

He just has to start asking the questions.

tag list, let me know if you want to be added or removed: @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar,

@tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda,

@fandomsanddeath, @marismorar, @wonderland-girl143-blog, @glass-bottle03, @gutterflower77,

@here4thetrama, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @jaytriesstuff, @cryptid-system, @manda-panda-monium,

@resident-gay-bitch, @anaibis, @xxsutherlandxx, @forevermineliv, @mugloversonly,

@gregre369, @n0-1-important, @different-tale-student, @spectrum-spectre, @tartarusknight,

@devondepresso, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @cheertain, @anti-ozzie, @autumncrocusandladybug,

@greeniebean911, @cr0w-culture, @stillfullofshit, @connected-dots, @daisynotquake,

@morgannotlefay, @a-little-unsteddie, @dolphincliffs, @maskofmirrors, @me-and-my-sloth,

[tortillamastersblog]

♕ No Matter What - Part 7 | Lena Luthor ♕

Pairing: Lena Luthor x reader

Warnings: mentions of some shooting, throwing up, blood and death

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11

________________________________________________

I get up with shaking hands, watching Lena as she begins pacing.

“Who is he?” she snaps. “Your boyfriend?!”

I flinch and take a step back. Not only am I completely taken aback by her sudden lack of trust, I’m also fragile because of the reminder of what day it is tomorrow.

“Lena— What? No! He’s not my boyfriend,” I defend quietly, my voice wavering. I swallow to get rid of the growing lump in my throat, but it just makes it worse.

Lena whips around and stares me down with a harsh glare. “No? Then who is he and why did you try to hide it when his name popped up on your phone?”

I open my mouth to reply, but the words get stuck in my throat. What has gotten into her? She has no right to attack me like this. Not when I haven’t given her a single reason not to trust me.

Scoffing when I don’t answered, she aggressively runs a hand through her hair. “That’s what I thought. My God, I should have never listened to Sam. You’re just like everyone else. A lying, cheating—“

“He’s my brother!” I blurt out weakly, every word she just said breaking my heart. My knees are weak and it’s taking everything in me not to break down crying right now.

Lena pauses and raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “Nice try. You told me you don’t have any siblings. Honestly, I don’t know how I let this whole thing between us get this far.”

I feel my bottom lip tremble and avert my eyes to the ground. Why is she being so cruel? I clench my fists and work my jaw as Lena goes on berating me.

“And to make up a brother. . . You really are something else. You know, if it weren’t for your contract I’d fire you on the spot.”

A tear rolls down my cheek and I lift a trembling hand to wipe it away. I don’t say anything and just stare at the floor, waiting for Lena to continue.

She doesn’t go on however and when I dare to glance at her I find her watching me incredulously.

“Why are you cry—?”

“I am not making him up,” I say sternly which seems to surprise her. She opens her mouth to say something, but I cut her off again. “And I wasn’t lying when I said I don’t have any siblings because he’s dead.”

Lena’s eyes widen.

“It’s the anniversary of his death tomorrow and I was planning on leaving some flowers on his grave, hence the reminder. And I didn’t want you to see because I’m not ready to talk about what happened yet.” I grab my bag from next to the couch and sling it over my shoulder, too hurt to even acknowledge the regret on Lena’s face. “Now, I know you can’t fire me, but I can quit, so don’t worry. You’ll have my letter of resignation on your desk by tomorrow morning.“

“Y/N, that’s not what I— I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. . . Please don’t—“

I hold up a hand and shake my head with a stray tear rolling down my cheek. “No, don’t worry about it, Ms. Luthor. I should probably get going now if I am to accompany you to the office later.”

Lena looks close to tears as well now, but I don’t give her a chance to say anything else as I brush past her, leaving without turning back.

How everything could go this wrong this quickly is a mystery to me.

It makes my heart ache and part of me is screaming at me to turn back and forgive Lena for jumping to conclusions. The other part however, the one that is irreversibly hurt by what just happened, is telling me to leave, which is what I ultimately do.

Maybe Lena was right. Things shouldn’t have gone as far as they did between us. I am, after all, just her bodyguard.

A year ago– Somewhere overseas. . .

“Christ I’m sweating like a pig,” Noah grumbles, pulling at the collar of his uniform.

We’re standing outside in the blazing sun, guarding the locals as they unload the truck of supplies we brought them. It’s a day like any other and for weeks now nothing out of the ordinary has happened.

“Yeah? Well, stop fretting, you’re only making it worse,” I scold lightheartedly as I shift the gun in my arms. It is hot, yes, but Noah is being a baby about it.

Harper snickers beside me and Noah sends her a dirty look. “You two are unbelievable,” he says with an eye roll, however when he turns his attention back to the locals I see a faint smile on his lips.

Harper beams and shoves me playfully. I smile and return the gesture.

That’s when one of the locals approaches me. “We’ve finished unloading the truck. Thank you again for all your help.” He stretched out his hand and I shake it with a polite nod.

“You’re welcome. Is there anything else we can—?”

The sound of screeching breaks makes me whip my head around and my eyes widen at the sight of an old truck that has come to a stop in a cloud of dust.

Several men, armed with guns jump off the back of it and before I can call out any orders, they open fire on me and my squad.

“Get down!” I shout, pulling the local behind a stack of rice bags. “Miller, radio for help!”

Harper and Noah join me while the rest of the squad finds shelter behind our truck.

Bullets whiz past us everywhere and the panicked screams of the locals make my stomach flip.

Stay calm! I remind myself, gripping my gun until my knuckles are white. Panic will get you killed.

“Miller?” I shout again as I peak over the bags, returning some of the fire before ducking back down. “Miller, where are you? Jones? Martinez!”

There’s no answer and knowing what that means, I clench my jaw and force away the burning feeling behind my eyes.

“What do we do?” Harper shouts next to me as she reloads her gun. “We’re trapped.”

Miller was the only one in the squad with a radio because for weeks now everything’s been calm and some superiors decided the extra radios should go to the squad’s that actually fight the rebels, not the ones doing supply runs.

“There’s a radio in the truck!” I remember, but the chances of getting to it without being hit are slim to none.

I have to do something though, so I grab Noah by the collar and pull him closer so he can hear me over the gunfire. “You two, cover me!” I shout, ignoring the way his and Harper’s eyes widen in terror.

“No! You can’t—!” he begins to protests but I tighten my grip on his uniform which shuts him up.

“I can and I will! I’m your superior officer and I’m not losing anyone else today, you hear me?!”

Noah has tears in his eyes, but he nods nonetheless. I turn to Harper to find her with the same, horror filled eyes.

“Do you hear me?” I ask again, swallowing the fear that’s bubbling up in the back of my throat.

“Yes, Sergeant!” They reply in unison and I take a deep breath before counting down.

“Alright, on three. One, two, three!” I jump up, gun at the ready, and move to leap over the bags of rice.

As soon as I get to my feet though, I’m knocked back by something hitting my shoulder. I cry out in pain and fall back down, clutching at where I’ve been hit.

One of the rebels must have waited for one of us to show themselves…

“Y/N!” Harper screeches, pressing her hand down on my chest a little below my shoulder. “Fuck!”

The local who’s frozen in place, pales at the sight of my blood and throws up right in his lap and if it weren’t for our current circumstances I would have gagged at the sight.

This can’t be how it ends!

I grit my teeth and shove Harper’s hand away. “I’m fine. We have to try again. We need to get to that radio!”

I try to get a hold of my gun again but as soon as I move, a jolt of pain shoots through me and I fall back with a pained whimper.

It’s enough for Harper to press her hand against my shoulder again, pinning me down with a warning look. “You can’t do this. You’re losing to much blood. We’ll have to think of something else.”

I shake my head and fidget with the clasp of my helmet. It feels like the strap is strangling me, but I know better than to take it off.

“There’s no time, Harper! Just let me—!”

“I’ll do it.”

I turn my head to find Noah watching us with a blank stare. I’ve never seen him like this and I know whatever he’s thinking can’t be good.

“I’ll do it,” he says again and that’s when I realize what he means.

“You will do no such thing!” I say sternly as he goes to return some of the fire before ducking back down.

“But we need backup!” he argues and I watch as a bead of sweat drips from the tip of his nose.

It really is hot today, isn’t it?

“You’re not going out there, Private. That is an order!” I wince when Harper applies more pressure to my shoulder.

“I can’t just let you die!” Noah screams and he reloads his gun with newfound determination. “I’m going to get that radio and call for backup!”

I grab his arm and yank him back down just as he’s about to get up. “No, you are not! You’re staying right here. We’ll think of something else.”

Noah’s eyes meet mine and for a moment the gunfire around us is muted. He smiles apologetically and takes the hand I have on his arms into his own.

I’m sorry, he mouths and before I can stop him again he’s escaped my grasp.

“Noah!”

Present– National City. . .

After showering and getting ready for the day, I make my way back to Lena’s apartment building where I wait for her by the front desk after shoving my bike into the janitors closet.

Ann tries to strike up a conversation as soon as her eyes land on me, but when my replies come out somewhat clipped, she lets it go.

I honestly don’t know what I’m feeling right now. Earlier I was hurt and angry, but now I’m not really feeling anything.

I will do my job as professionally as I can and have my resignation letter on Lena’s desk by tomorrow morning, just like she wanted.

I am still worried about Lex coming after her, but she’s made it clear what she thinks of me and I can’t do my job if she doesn’t trust me.

When the elevator doors open and Lena steps out, her eyes dart around until they land on me. She relaxes visibly and approaches quickly with regret and worry written all over her face.

“Y/N, I’m sorry about earlier. I should have never said what I said and I don’t want you to—“

I shake my head and square my shoulders, trying my best to sound professional when I say, “Don’t apologize, Ms. Luthor. You don’t have to explain yourself to me. I’m just here to do my job.”

Lena deflates and she frowns sorrowfully. “Y/N, please. . . I didn’t mean—“

I check my watch and clear my throat, cutting her off once again. “We should get going if you don’t want to be late for your interview with Ms. Danvers.”

Lena’s bottom lip trembles and I have to dig my nails into the palm of my hand to stop myself from rushing forward to comfort her.

Her words cut unimaginably deep earlier and I can’t forgive her for it just yet. Or ever. I haven’t made my mind up about it yet because all I can think about is Noah and Harper who tried calling me again just before I got here.

“Alright then,” Lena gives in with a dejected sigh.

We go outside where Alfred is already waiting in the car. I open the rear–passenger door and wait until Lena gets in. Then I close it, ignoring the hurt in her eyes when I opt to sit in front with Alfred, rather than in the back with her like I normally do.

The interview with Kara had gone well, as far as I could tell when Lena hugged the blonde goodbye with a genuine smile. That smile, however, faded when her eyes met mine briefly and she quickly disappeared into her office again, leaving me outside with Jess who was busy at her computer.

And that’s where I’m still at right now, reading a news article on my phone while Lena’s in her office with Sam who decided to show up ten minutes ago.

Upon seeing me, she instantly knew something was wrong, but I just waved her off when I could feel Lena watching us from the doorway to her office.

She didn’t say anything but sent me a look that made it clear we were going to talk about what was going on as soon as we were alone.

“You did what?!”

Sam’s shriek makes me flinch and I can’t help but move a little closer to the closed office door. Jess isn’t at her desk because she went out to get coffee, so I don’t have to worry about getting caught eavesdropping.

“I know, I messed up pretty badly.” Lenas muffled voice sounds like she’s genuinely sorry and I know for a fact that they’re talking about what happened this morning.

“You think?” Sam retorts sarcastically. “God, Lena. . . What is wrong with you?“

“I don’t know, Sam!” Lena sounds desperate and it makes my heart ache involuntarily. “I just— I’ve been burned so many times before and Jack—“

“Y/N is not Jack though,” Sam cuts in and it’s quiet for a moment.

Then Lena mumbles what sounds like, “I know. . .” followed by a “What am I supposed to do now?”

I sigh and move away from the door again. What they’re talking about is none of my business even though they’re taking about me.

It also doesn’t help that I wouldn’t be able to answer that question myself. What could Lena possibly do to undo what she did this morning?

I honestly don’t know and before I can lend that question any more thought, my phone starts ringing.

I glance at the screen to see that it’s Harper again.

I roll my eyes with half a mind to decline the call, but then I think better of it and reluctantly answer with a strained, “What do you want, Harper?”

________________________________________________

I’m not all too happy with how this part turned out, but I’m not in the mood to rewrite it. Proofreading (like always) will be done over the course of the next couple of days.

Anyway, I just wanted to let you guys know that I love your comments and that I read every single one of them even though I don’t reply to all of them <3

Tag list: @nuianced-tck-enby @autorasexy

[halfmoth-halfman]

Leaving this blog.

With my mini-series finishing up soon, I've decided to leave this blog as well as my AO3 account once it’s finished. This is not a decision I've made lightly, but circumstances have left this a place where I no longer feel safe.

As of now, I won't be deactivating this blog and will be leaving my fics up for anyone who'd still like to read them. I can't say this decision won't change later, but right now I feel that I've put too much work into this blog to simple delete it.

Below the cut is an explanation of why I'm making this decision, and what has been happening on this blog since the end of last year. It's not required to read or anything to understand the gist of this post; it's simply for my own peace of mind knowing that I spoke up about it. There will be topics that are possibly triggering such as harassment, threats, and racism so please mind the warnings and tags.

The mini-series is queued to finish next week, but there will be no more fic polls or wip wednesdays. I'll still be on here to make sure the queue does its job, and maybe post some stuff from my old drafts as a last bit of fun.

I'll have dms tentatively open for the next two-ish weeks for those who'd like to follow my new account, however I will not be answering anything from empty blogs. After that, asks and dms will be turned off, and I won't be coming back to this blog very often, if at all.

I cannot say thank you enough to the wonderful readers I've had and the amazing people I've met. I don't think I would've ever continued writing without your support and friendship. There's nothing I can do to show my appreciation for all of you.

Maybe we'll see each other again. If not, I hope your inspiration is always flowing, and 2024 treats you kindly.

Mothie 💜

Again, TW: rape/death threats, violent racism, repeated harassment, and mental health.

Back in November, I started getting rude, mean-spirited anons. It wasn't anything I was too bothered with because it didn't happen often and, honestly, my inbox gets flooded for a week or so anytime I post about certain topics. I blocked, deleted, reported and moved on thinking whoever it was would get bored and leave.

However, what started as a few rude anons calling me a bitch or stupid turned into a lot of anons being vile and racist which only worsened over the next few months.

I spoke about it in this post (link) near the end of November. In that post, I mentioned that those were the nicer asks and that was not an exaggeration. I have gotten my fair share of shitty anons as seen here (link) when I had to take a break from my blog because of said anons, but I have never gotten the amount of vitriol that I saw in these asks.

When I turned anon off, I started getting even worse messages from empty blogs that would either be blocked or deactivate within a week. When I turned my askbox off, I started getting hateful DMs. When I turned DMs off, it jumped from Tumblr to my other social medias which I had to private, completely avoid, or outright delete.

I got messages attacking my writing, calling me slurs, threatening to find me and rape or kill me, sending me explicit porn and rape videos while insulting my sexuality, and going into gross detail about how much people I interacted with hated me or how I would never be as good as them. I tried to power through it, pretending everything was fine while I pulled away from this blog, from writing, from friends that I loved and talked to every day. Everything about this blog, the fandoms I enjoyed, the people I talked to, made me so anxious because of these constant messages.

I took several breaks while dealing with this in therapy, repeatedly trying to come back and get comfortable on this blog, but within a few days of coming back the messages would start up again, either here or on any of my social medias I tried to unprivate, and I couldn't deal with it.

Only in the last week or two has it started to slow down and stop on a few of my other socials, which is the only reason I even feel comfortable making this post. However, in regards to this blog and my feelings toward it, the damage is done.

I don't think I can ever truly convey how isolating this has been. So many of these messages were about how I've spoken about my struggles as a black woman in fandom, how much of a burden it puts on the people who interact with me, how inferior I am to them and that I am everything that's wrong with fandom.

I felt scared and anxious to talk to anyone about this, especially people mentioned in those messages, out of fear that this harassment would jump to them. There are friendships that I stepped away from that I will never get back because of that. There are friends that I've felt like I was betraying by never telling them about what was happening because I felt too ashamed about letting this get to me.

I constantly worried that making a post like this would feel like, "Oh, Mothie's whining and trauma-dumping into the void about fandom racism again", that those messages would be right and it would force people to feel like they had to support me. Or worse, that people would agree and it would only make things worse. I've wrestled with so much guilt trying to decide to make this post and figure out what to do to make me trust myself again.

Ultimately, I don't think I was wrong for talking about my issues in fandom, and I don't think anything I've said has warranted this kind of harassment. I don’t know the who’s or why’s behind of this, but I've come to terms with the fact that I'll never really know. Truthfully, I'm not sure it even matters at this point. In the end, I think moving on from this blog entirely would be the best thing for me right now.

But, man, does it fucking suck.

This was the blog where I felt comfortable enough to start writing again, to start posting my fics. It's the blog where I met so many friends, got the courage to join new communities, found new hobbies, new music, new things to enjoy in life. It feels silly to say about a blog, but this was a place where I felt like I was able to carve out a space for myself. I put so much work into making it my own, and now the only thing I feel about it is anxious.

Hate messages and threats and racism have always been a part of fandom, and the internet as a whole. I’ve known since I started participating in fandom spaces that it was going to and continue to happen. I've known that I had to have a tough skin, especially if I ever spoke up about problems I faced because no one was going to have my back if I didn't have my own. I thought I had learned how to deal with it, and how to make a safe space for myself. But this goes beyond that. I did not deserve this. No one deserves this.

In some ways, it feels like admitting defeat, like I'm weak or hypocritical for not being as strong as I pretended I was and leaving. In other ways, it feels freeing to start over, and I'm choosing to view look at this optimistically even if it bittersweet. I don't want to let this scare me away from writing or from speaking about things that are important to me. All I can do now is say I'm so incredibly sorry to those I've hurt by stepping away or keeping this secret, and make sure I'm able to at least leave this blog on as happy a note as I can have.

[kimetsu-chan]

hi, so it says that all requests are closed, and I’m assuming that means emergency requests too..? Because it’s ‘ALL’

But when they open could you write a Muichiro comfort fic for me…? So basically what’s happening is that I’ve been feeling extremely suicidal, and depressed. I came out as a therian to my mom, she’s been very unsupportive and called me mentally unstable and not developed, a Therian/otherkin is a person who identifies as a non-human animal on a psychological or spiritual level based on animilastic urges and/or behaviours…. And I’ve just been having really bad dreams and thinking a lot about my past how my father abused and almost killed my mom, got her into a coma, and I would think of running away and thought it was my fault. My father sexually harassed me. I have anxiety, think I’m annoying, hate myself stuff like that.

so why I’m in need of a Muichiro comfort fic is bc every night I draw marks on my wrist ok, and so every night I try cutting it, each night trying to go deeper or hold down the knife longer…

so that’s why maybe when requests open I was wondering if you could write one for me…

Thankyou for reading this all… have a nice day☺️ and feel free to ignore me I’m used to it! <3

~Not Tonight~

A/N: first of all, I am incredibly sorry for the miscommunication, emergency requests are open, I should’ve conveyed that better. Secondly, I am extremely saddened to hear of what has happened to you :( it’s not something you should deal with. I hope that this could be the comfort you need, and I apologize if it is not on par with what you require right now. Please take care of yourself <3

TWs ⚠️: sh will be heavily implied in this fic, along with thoughts of suicide being mildly implied, please do not read if such topics are uncomfortable or triggering.

This takes place after he regains his memories

It was extremely odd, the way you wore the longest sleeves even in the hottest weather, it perplexed Muichiro.

He didn’t understand why, but then again, he had trouble understanding the purpose of most things.

At first, he didn’t pay much mind to it, maybe it was a sense of comfort? But he saw the way you were always on the edge of passing out from the heat, and how… unsettlingly empty your eyes were.

He watched as you trained, standing idly in the shade. He had been taking a water break and decided to watch you tiredly swing your training sword.

His chest tightened painfully, and he looked down at it with confusion. He immediately associated the uncomfortable feeling with looking at you in your exhausted state. Was he concerned? Surely no, you were a subordinate. But you were his subordinate, and he used that to justify why he was worried.

Muichiro kept a steady eye on you for the next week or so, the borderline painful feeling of concern popping up at least twice a day.

You looked exceptionally worse today, more so than normal. You had collapsed due to your body not being able to withstand the unbearable heat any longer. Of course, in a fit of worry, he rushed to your side, quickly checking for a concussion or any other injuries.

The boy frowned down at you as he held your head up, and that was the most expressive you’d seen him in a while.

“[Name], I told you this would happen, you need to dress appropriately for training..!”

He reached to roll your skin-tight sleeves up but was halted by a sharp “no” from you.

Needless to say, he did not listen, proclaiming your safety was far more important, so of course he saw. He found out, and you were worried if he’d be disgusted with you.

But when he looked in your eyes once more, his gaze was devoid of disgust or disappointment. His eyes stared at you with worry and guilt and confusion.

You could see it in his eyes, the silent ask of “why” of why you felt the need to do such things to yourself.

Without thinking, you provided a short explanation, you told him when you did it, why you did it, and how bad the thoughts were getting.

It only aided in the shattering of his heart.

How could he have been so oblivious…? Could he have provided help if he had noticed sooner?

No, there was no use in beating himself up for what he didn’t do, he needed to make sure that you stopped. He vowed to you that day, that he’d pay better attention, stay with you when you needed it, help you whenever you relapsed, and anything more you could possibly need.

As he spoke, his eyes began to tear up against his will. He held you closer, trying to appear strong for you because you needed the comfort.

He didn’t want to lose you, especially not to yourself, he needed you…. So with a shaky voice, he uttered a few words as he wrapped his arms around you.

“Not-… not tonight, please…”

A/N: I urge and encourage you to seek advise and help from a therapist if you have the comfort and means to do so, once again, I am so sorry for everything that has happened to you. I sincerely hope this can bring you even the slightest sliver of comfort, and I hope you recover from any and all thoughts quickly :( <3

No taglist for this fic

[rxttenfish]

Asking because I’m extremely curious about this, how did MonProm’s writing get different over time? I remember you saying that the lore and characters feel different, and that it's missing sincere character interactions, too. I know almost nothing about the lore and I’ve only seen a few people mention the characters, so I’d be interested in a rundown of what aspects you think got worse in the series

I wouldn’t mind a very long response since I’m not that active in the fandom, I need to catch up on what happened

sorry for taking so long to answer this! i kinda waffled on it for a long bit, mainly because i started doubting myself again, and whether or not this was me simply overreacting or being tinted by nostalgia or simply being extremely picky and choosy in what i like (the last of which is true, i seldom get into fandoms at all for this reason and stay away from most popular media, but i wasn't sure if it applied here). i've posted about it already, but i'm in the middle of a psychotic episode where i can't feel a lot of pleasure to begin with + most things i do experience ending up solidly in the "very bad" category, so as you can imagine, i really didn't want to mislead and check that i was actually in objective reality.

as it is, this is also when a lot more screenshots started to be posted in the monster prom tag, and that helped me bridge the gap back into returning to the games themselves and feel like i was making a more accurate judgement. if you're one of those people who have been posting screenshots, i sincerely thank you, and i appreciated seeing you in the tag greatly.

for those not in the know — i've been in the monster prom fandom since it first released, prior to even the first additional ending to be added (the "Punch the sun" ending, and i recall the minor fandom drama that happened at that time due to it). my impression of monster prom is very much influenced by this, as what got me into the first game was the fact that the characters genuinely seemed to care for each other and were friends with each other (not merely tolerating each other's presences nor dressing it up, they sincerely thought of each other as friends and were open about that fact), on top of the wide variety of small details and statements that, if taken at face value, could create compounding complexity in the lives of each and every character and had wider implications for their lives.

no, they were not necessarily explored nor even necessarily "real", with so many conflicting events and statements, but i liked this too, because it meant a wider flexibility in what you could imagine, helping to create a more tailored experience for everyone who thought about these characters. this was what i liked about the early fandom too. what was baseline "canon" was so vague and minimal that you could have wildly different interpretations of the same characters' histories and relationships with each other. you would have radically different perspectives on what the world itself looked like, what it was like, that there wasn't really any wrong answers so long as their personalities remained the same. this is where you got the old headcanon of polly and liam being childhood friends who knew each other as humans, or that the world of monster prom was post-apocalypse where humanity itself had gone extinct or only existed in tiny pockets, or my personal headcanon that both monster and human society existed right next to each other and had minimal crossover for petty cultural reasons. this was also prior zoe-as-ro, and there were wildly different interpretations of zoe's personality, with most going for a far more disquieting creepy-cute than the deep nerd we got.

this is why you get stuff like the timeloop theory, where everyone is repeating the same weeks leading up to prom over and over, and are perhaps vaguely aware of it but broadly unconcerned. this is also why it felt like the joke that, the characters were still in high school but were all fully legal adults with most in their 20's, best landed, because it was absurd and strange and didn't quite make sense, but the world itself was inherently absurd and semi-malleable to begin with. realistically, i felt like everyone understood it was making fun of the trope of having adults play teenagers in american sitcoms and wildly casting outside the age range, but for more in-universe explanations it wasn't any different from the way that you would have a large, dramatic ending in which everything changed, but then you'd restart and everyone would be right back at the beginning with nothing different, or even having conflicting events in the same run. it was a dream-logic that fit with the tropes and, thus, diagetically made sense.

to be clear, i don't mind canon having a set, well, canon on which it refers back to itself. i don't mind expanding that or including more things which are set in stone. but there was a perceivable shift in how the games handled this over time, becoming a lot more... bitter, it felt, towards all of these different branching ideas and concepts that, yeah, the people making them knew wouldn't necessarily be "canon" because "canon" already liked to contradict itself so much. most people weren't even sold on any one idea, and there was a much greater sense of enjoying and appreciating all the varying ideas people would come up with even if you personally didn't share them. making the characters be out of character was the real crime, because then it didn't diagetically make sense in the same way, didn't wholly fit.

(again, this is not to say fanon didn't happen and characters weren't smoothed down into a simplified personality that fit these varying fan-interpretations instead of the game itself. certainly damien love/lust was just as bad as it had ever been, and everyone loved to mangle his character into a more stereotypical "bad boy with a heart of hold" all the time. but it certainly felt less set-in-stone about it than it does now, with any deviation from the norm being considered strange and odd and even broadly shunned from the wider fandom.)

all of this is setup for establishing what the writing, lore, and characters felt like in the earlier days. the characters were the strongest part, with their relationships to each other being equally as important. the lore played it fast and loose and was far less interested in setting anything in concrete because that wasn't the important part. the lore wasn't the important part, which was what made it all the more intoxicating to think about, all the more fun to play with.

montrip is easily the biggest offender when it comes to setting everything in all-or-nothing terms and demanding absolutism from the world. broadly i blame the hitchhiker conversations for the worst of it, but i think ultimately the way they handled the entire premise of the game is where this problem stems from. it's not really an exploration in the same sense that you might explore the first game, discovering different perspectives and different people with different relationships to each other. it's an exploration in the sense of a sequel that over-explains the monster, that takes the most boring option out of all those that were possible and floating around and settles on something that was blatant, obvious, typically rejected not because of how novel it is but how trite and par for the course it is in the rest of the genre.

yeah, okay. humans know nothing about monsters and there's a "monster dimension" that exists separately from the human dimension. there's no crossover between the two of them. of course there's a big grand-scale fight between the eldritch powers that zoe used to be a part of, from which not only are slayers the main organization against them, but also the merkingdom has some horse in this race too. it's an urge to make things so universal in explaining them, in revealing connecting threads which unite everything that's ever happened in here, that makes the worldbuilding and lore immediately much more boring than it ever was before.

and it didn't have to be this way! nothing in the first game contradicts any of this too explicitly (see the above, the first game loves to contradict itself), and i would even be happy if this was basically canon but never stated or confirmed to be the big overarching everything going on underneath it all. i believe you should probably know these things about any world that you create and have them in the back of your mind. the difference is that you can know these things and keep them in mind, even focusing on things where its very relevant, and still not reveal them. this is why you have lore bibles, after all. every horror writer knows exactly how their monster works and the full underlying reason for everything that happens, but that doesn't mean the audience will see it or possess this same information too, and leaving it intentionally obscure will make far better stories.

which, this is bad enough, but it wouldn't be the breaking point for me if this was all there was.

but the worst thing of all has to be the slow decay of the very same characters that sold me on this world, this lore, this game in the first place. monster prom is nothing without the characters in it. it's a dating sim, it has nothing but characters to get you to play, and liking these characters are the entire reason anyone would pick up monster prom in the first place.

and the first game pulls this off extremely well. it's all in the tagline: be your worst self. they are, indeed, all terrible people. yes, even that character that you just thought of right now. they all have points in the game where they commit atrocities, where they kill or hurt people, where they do inexcusable things that could not be ignored in a more serious setting.

but that's the point. i think there's something very powerful in creating a character who not only do you love and love their personality and the way they interact with the world, but who also are inapologetically terrible, and to have the humor and the charisma be so good that you don't get bogged down in the "this is awful". likewise, it never feels the urge to really go out of its way to justify what's going on. this is not to say theres no discussion of if someone "deserved it", but usually there's still the sense that the joke is on them, that this is still an extreme reaction specifically for comedy and not necessarily something that can be justified. you can have damien set leonard on fire and have it feel earned, without prompting the needed reaction of what it's actually like to watch someone burn to death.

this is what sets the prank masterz ending apart from the rest of the game, and really establishes it as the first real "bad ending". because nothing that you do or happens in the prank masterz ending is any different from anything else that happens in any other run. you summon evil beings from other dimensions as a throwaway gag on how visiting one location raises your stats. you kill other people and damn them to terrible fates. you watch as body horror happens. the only difference is that, in the prank masterz ending, the laugh track doesn't play.

the rest of the game and the writing echoes this philosophy, this careful interplay of tropes that keeps everything tongue in cheek and yet sincere enough to make sure emotional beats still land when they're needed. the characters feel true to themselves and their own emotions, even when the world is extreme and excessive, when everything else runs on comedy logic.

this is also what i noticed failing first as time went on.

like i said, fanon has always existed and there's always been very specific ideas as to what characters are like in the same way fanon always flattens down characters into the same tropes over and over. scott is stupid and innocent and doesn't know what sex is. damien is violent and hot and too cool for anyone else. miranda is the idiot girl character. repeat over and over and over until you get sick of it.

but it's been an issue as time has crept on that canon has started to approach fanon and began to merge with it. now, scott is so innocent that he can't even curse. polly starts being mean to her friends and saying things that would be very hurtful to hear. the merkingdom isn't really super evil and fucked up, it's just miranda that's like that. they become simpler, easier to digest, streamlined for social media posts and mass-sharing. they become less and less subversions of existing tropes and moreso just another example of them, something else to add to the collection, not their own individual stories.

even further from this, what more complex traits they had are now stated and not shown. polly is stated to be smart and clever in a way that her party girl persona doesn't imply and to be sincerely rather down to earth with the people she cares about, but we seldom ever see this anymore unless its the game specifically trying to make a point about it, in which case it won't let her do anything that implies cleverness and moreso will just outline it in the narration. vera is stated to care for people in a very genuine and heartfelt way, but seldom will get a chance to do so, and every opportunity for her to do so to their faces is missed while she will just outright state it later. it does not feel consistent, it does not feel like any of these are intended reads of their actions. it feels like the devs have something they want to do but no idea on how to actually do so. and forget it if you want these traits to manifest in small ways that show up in unrelated moments and scenes.

the dialogue becomes harder and harder to tell between each speaker, if you are just looking at what's said and not at the pictures attached to it. the characters' distinct voices have been eroded away, so that they speak more and more like each other, relaying the same terms and ideas in the same words. perspective becomes a suggestion, instead of a must.

this is something that started back in monster camp too, as all of the endings in that game felt ultimately the same as every other ending. it's very hard to place or define the full reason why, why there feels like there's no emotional stakes nor investment, why everything feels moreso like selecting different coats of paint and trying to find all the different ending pictures rather than being interested in exploring the characters as characters.

stranger yet, the series that started with the tagline of "be your worst self" has experienced a kind of... softening, for lack of a better word? what i mentioned about being able to handle the balance between terrible people who do terrible things and the light tone of the game starts to change, as abruptly the same characters who were down with violent murder in the first game start to lose their nerve, acting more and more on more typical morality. it's one of those things that feels like it's starting to damage the tone, as abruptly it's not as absurd as it used to be, demands less suspension of disbelief which could buffer and support the rest of the setting on it. there's even a part in one of the endings in montrip which involves current-polly and current-scott looking back on their monprom selves and reacting in horror at how violent and careless their pranks are, in a way that fundamentally felt like it was undercutting and disparaging all the things that felt fun and made monprom what it was.

which is odd, really, because more and more i feel like the characters in these games like each other less and less. the friendships and genuine enjoyment of each others company that brought me to this game in the first place has gone. now they don't mention each other as much, don't care for each other's feelings and reactions as much, aren't as willing to support each other. they are more and more found on their own, relied on their own, seem to seek out contact and interaction with their own friends less and less. it feels like they're all separating out into their own worlds, but also feels like they wouldn't willingly want to interact with each other if they weren't already forced together by some other outside contrivance.

if anything, i'd compare it to every other dating sim out there, where you, the player, are the most important person in these characters' lives, and they only feel ambivalent or antagonistic towards every other character. which, again, is not why i picked up monster prom or why i liked it so much in the first place.

and it's because of this that it feels like the current state of the series has to focus on its increasingly weak worldbuilding and lore, trying to form a more serious foundation without character relationships being so tightly bound together, without the characters themselves being more developed and rich, without an aspect of absurd humor to rely on.

more and more i've noticed monprom has to rely on referencing other series to make itself funny and create humor, which, again, it's always done. it was just easier to ignore back then, if you didn't know what was being referenced, because there was always more going on in the exact same scene to bolster it and give context clues as to the setup and punchline at play. it feels like the current games are much more dependent on you knowing pop culture references in order to have any fun with it, and i'm someone who, again, is very picky in what i like or what i'll seek out. i'm not interested in a stream of references about other things that i would much rather be doing than playing through a game that feels like it hates that i like it at all, when i could, again, just be engaging with the thing that takes itself seriously and knows what it wants.

[cbk1000]

So, I have another crazy story about the clinic where I used to work; this time as a patient instead of an employee. Under a cut because it's very long.

So back when I first got really sick, I was in the hospital a few times primarily for really high heart rate. I work out a lot and my normal resting heart rate is in the 60s; back in February I suddenly started getting palpitations, and my heart rate was going up to like 140 bpm just standing at my bathroom sink washing my face. I wore a seven day monitor at one point and my highest recorded heart rate on that was 157 bpm--just shuffling like a zombie around the house. I was also super weak and just felt overall like death.

Hospital runs a bunch of labs and imaging tests and can't find anything that would explain it. The last doc I saw said there was a bright spot on my echocardiogram monitor that could just be flashback from the monitor, but taken with some of my symptoms, he felt OK with a presumptive diagnosis of pericarditis (inflammation of the sac around your heart), especially as the treatment is just high dose ibuprofen for a week, nothing invasive or drastic. I need to follow up with a cardiologist, but I don't have a primary care physician who can refer me to the heart clinic. I had just turned in new patient paperwork at a local clinic so I contacted them to see if I could get in, but they said it would likely be a month before I could be scheduled with anyone.

In the meantime, the ibuprofen isn't working and my condition is getting worse. I have my next period, and after a couple of heavy days, I get even weaker, my heart rate goes even higher, and I get really dizzy all the time. I also am now short of breath just rolling over in bed. I legit feel like I'm dying. Because my symptoms get worse after blood loss, it suddenly pops into my head that about 17 years ago after a blood donation I got really sick, and all my symptoms that I can remember having at the time are the same, especially the cardiac issues. I took iron back then and that resolved it. I started wondering if my iron was low, did a bunch of research into iron deficiency without anemia, and realized every single symptom, including ones I had been having for a while prior to the heart issues (terrible fatigue, brain fog, headaches, sleep disruptions, restless legs at night) could be from low iron.

So I need to get labs done, and also I do still need a referral to make sure my heart is ok. I can't get in with anyone, so out of desperation, I go back to my old clinic because I know they'll get me in quickly. They schedule me an appointment for the next day with a doc who is going to turn out to be batshit crazy.

I go to my appointment with my presumptive diagnosis of pericarditis, and the doctor asks if I had the Covid shot. I tell him yes, but my last booster was in 2021, so not relevant here.

Well boy howdy was I wrong. He launches into a whole-ass rant about how bad the shots are, how many people have been injured by them, tells me I, a formerly very healthy, athletic woman, now have heart issues due to the shot, etc. etc. I say, 'Ok, but would the shot really randomly cause me issues three years later when I was perfectly fine after I got it?' (The answer is no.) Doc stays the course in blaming the shot. I have paperwork I need filled out for medical leave from my job, and he PUTS ON MY PAPERWORK THAT I HAVE TO TURN IN that my cardiac issues came on and progressed after the shot (three YEARS after, you DUMBASS) and that his impression is post vaccine injury. I feel too badly to do much more than sway on the exam table and occasionally interject that I had the shot three years ago and I don't think that's the problem. The majority of my appointment is him ranting about the shots. Whatever, I'm desperate, give me my fucking referral to the cardiologist and order my iron panel.

I get labs done and sure enough, my iron is low. I start supplementing and shortly afterwards get a call from the cardiac clinic; I lucked out and got in just a few days after my referral was sent to them because someone canceled their appointment last minute. I see an ARNP at my first visit and she says the echo I had done at the hospital looks fine to her, but they'll do a seven day monitor, a repeat echocardiogram, and have me follow up with the cardiologist just to make sure they don't miss anything.

So they do this, and in the meantime, after a couple of weeks on iron supplements, I start slowly but steadily feeling a bit better. My fatigue and brain fog that I was having every day improve significantly after only a week on supplements. My dizziness goes away. I feel a tiny bit stronger every day and now can sit up longer and start holding conversations with people. It's slow but steady progress for about three weeks: and then I get my period again. It doesn't knock me back to square one, but I definitely take a couple of steps back in my recovery. It's a little lighter this time, though, which is a good sign.

I follow up with the cardiologist. He says actually my heart is in really good shape; no signs of pericarditis or anything wrong with it; my high heart rate isn't due to a cardiac issue. Cool. I didn't think so at this point, but good to hear I don't have heart issues.

So I go back to follow up with my doc and plan to ask to really focus on the iron issue since the cardiologist confirmed my heart is fine. I have come a long ways but am still mostly bedridden; it is very slow to get your levels up on iron supplementation, and every time I get my period, it sets me back a little. Maybe some low dose iron infusions would help boost my levels so my recovery doesn't go backwards on account of me bleeding for a week every few weeks.

Doc comes in the room. He is clearly Not Happy cardiology did not confirm his conspiracy theories about the shot injuring me. I tell him about the symptoms I have seen improve and even resolve after about six weeks on iron supplements, and how I think most if not all of my problems are from low iron. He pretty much completely ignores this. He asks me if my fatigue and brain fog have improved. I say, yes, they were some of the first symptoms to improve after I started taking iron. He does not even acknowledge I have spoken. He tells me he thinks I have a combination of chronic fatigue syndrome and POTS (postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome) caused by the shot. I remind him I just told him my fatigue had improved a lot since starting iron. And my heart rate is coming down too and not spiking as much, my issue is that every period after I've been improving, I suddenly get a little worse again. He ignores this. He tells me he is going to refer me to the neurologist to check for chronic fatigue and POTS. Ok, whatever, I'm pretty sure I don't have those things, but fine, have another specialist tell you you're wrong.

After about eight weeks on supplements, I really feel like I'm starting to turn a corner. I don't feel normal, but my heart rate has come down quite a bit, I can stand and walk around a lot longer without feeling like I'm going to pass out, and I feel the closest to normal that I have been in months.

And then I get my period again and my heart rate goes back up. I'm super frustrated at this point because I was So Close to being a functioning human again, so I decide to push for a low dose iron infusion. I just want to boost my levels high enough to get me over this hump so every period doesn't set me back right as I feel like I'm coming back to life. I've read lots of papers on iron deficiency without anemia (meaning your hemoglobin is normal) and decide to make an appointment armed with one paper in particular which was written by a doctor who has been treating iron deficiency for decades, and which lays out really comprehensively the numbers at which patients should be considered deficient based on their labs and symptoms, what numbers you should shoot for when treating the iron deficiency (I am higher now but still quite a ways away from the goal), and also lists a bunch of symptoms women in particular have reported that have resolved with iron treatment. I highlight all the symptoms on the list that I have had, as well as other sections particularly relevant to my specific case. (Spoiler alert: I did not even give him the paper.)

So I go to my appointment and he asks if I've heard from the neurologist yet. I say no, I'm sure it will be a while (there's only one in town, and I'm sure it takes a long time to get in). In the meantime, I really want to focus on getting my iron levels up. I lay everything out: all the improvements I've seen, how my period keeps setting me back, and how I want to try just a low 100mg infusion to boost me up so I don't take two steps back every time I get my period. He tells me I have chronic fatigue and POTS as a result of the Evil Shot. I tell him, once again, that my fatigue has greatly improved on iron supplements. He does not even acknowledge I have spoken. He tells me a local doctor is being PERSECUTED and PROSECUTED for prescribing Ivermectin for Covid. Ok, that doesn't relate to my personal medical issues that we are here to discuss, and also, Ivermectin is not approved for the treatment of Covid. I ask him again if I can get a low dose infusion. I understand insurance probably won't cover it, that's fine, I can pay out of pocket, I just need him to order it. He tells me he personally takes Ivermectin. Good for you. Again, not related to my medical issues that I am here to dicuss.

I mention that I have had restless legs at night for a long time, because I know this at least is commonly associated with low iron, maybe that will get his attention; nope. He totally ignores me again. I even try blaming the shot for low iron (sorry, Covid vaccine, sometimes you have to take one for the team). I say I have read Covid and maybe even the shot can deplete your iron; maybe the shot did this to my iron. No dice. (Mr. Jenn did applaud me for trying when I told him about it, though.)

He starts in about my POTS again. I say, ok, but POTS is a postural issue, right? He says, yes! I say, ok, then if I have an issue where my nervous system doesn't regulate my blood flow properly when I change from sitting to standing, why is my resting heart rate way higher than normal when I'm just lying in bed doing nothing, and why has my heart rate been coming down and is not spiking like it was after several weeks on iron supplements until I get my period? I'm not sure that fits with POTS.

He again does not even acknowledge I've spoken.

I ask again for an infusion to help boost me up so I'm not set back every period. He says as long as I'm menstruating it will set me back. Yes, I am aware I will lose more iron on my period, what I am asking is that while I am in ACTIVE CLINICAL IRON DEFICIENCY can we please do something to speed up getting my levels high enough so every time I bleed it doesn't knock me down again. He asks if I have considered a hysterectomy or uterine ablation for the bleeding (you know, invasive surgeries, instead of talking about birth control pills, which he didn't even mention). I said that was kind of extreme and I didn't want to consider that right now. I ask him about the infusion again. He says it's not a concern. I say, yeah, it is, I am having debilitating symptoms that have left me bedridden for three months. I need to get back to my life and my job. He tells me Congress is investigating the shots and it will come out how bad they are, but a lot of people won't believe it. I say, well, that's Congress' business, can I please have an infusion. He tells me insurance won't cover it. I say I know, I already mentioned that earlier (while you were ignoring me in favor of ranting about a vaccine I had three years ago), I have a health savings account, I can pay out of pocket. He tells me he's pretty sure I have chronic fatigue and POTS but we'll see what the neurologist says. I need to call and see if I can get in more quickly with the neurologist. I say, ok, in the meantime, since realistically it could take months for me to get in with the neurologist, can I PLEASE HAVE A FUCKING INFUSION. He tells me if I want one I will have to badger another doctor into it. (I can't remember the exact word he used, but the way he worded it made it sound like I was trying to bully him. No, you jackass, I am asking for an extremely common, low risk medical treatment for issues that have left me unable to work or leave my house for anything other than doctor's appointments for THREE MONTHS.)

So I left incredibly frustrated, needless to say.

Next day Mr. Jenn goes to his appointment at the clinic I initially tried to get into to follow up on labs he had done for an annual physical, and his doctor tells him his cholesterol is slightly high, but not enough to be concerned, he just needs to watch his saturated fats and red meat intake. Mr. Jenn tells him we've actually temporarily increased our red meat intake because of my health issues. He then mentions all of the issues I've been having, my lab results, and how I've improved a lot on supplements, but keep getting set back by my period. His doctors goes, 'Have you guys looked into infusions for her? You should try that.'

I DID BUT MY DOCTOR IS CRAZY.

Mr. Jenn explains that I had asked for an infusion and my doctor refused. His doctor gives him a weird look and wants to know why. Mr. Jenn explains it's because he's super set on it being chronic fatigue and POTS and won't consider anything else even though my 'chronic fatigue' and 'POTS' symptoms have both improved on iron supplements. The doctor again gives him a weird look and asks why he's stuck on those diagnoses and won't consider iron deficiency.

Because he's crazy, good sir.

Mr. Jenn's doctor then suggests we see if I can self-refer for an infusion and just pay out of pocket, but you need a doctor's order even if you're not going through insurance, so the next day when the clinic opens, I call, explain I tried to establish care there earlier so they have my new patient paperwork, but that I needed an urgent referral, and had to go somewhere else because they were a month out, but I really (REALLY) want to change doctors, is <Mr. Jenn's doc> taking new patients? He is not, but they'll put in a note with one of the ARNPs accepting new patients to see if they're willing to schedule me.

However, I know the new manager of the clinic (actually an old coworker from the crazy clinic that I'm friendly with), so the other day I texted her, briefly explained the situation, and she asked which doctor I wanted to see and said she'll talk to him when he's back from the long holiday weekend and see if he would be willing to see me. She will let me know later this week (he's not back in till Wednesday). So fingers crossed I can get in with a non-lunatic soon.

[neurolady]

My current obsession is "Where is Crowley’s mind at!"

I know disaster puppy and all, he's definitely a mess (both of them are), but how is that gonna manifest!

Aziraphale's is going to suck it up! He's going to have to! He's just been marched into the lion's den and forced to leave his sheild on Earth. He probably won't have much space to process before being chucked into Heaven's machinations. His process is going to be about holding it together while trying to figure out what Heaven is up to? And as far as him understanding Crowley's decision, I don't think he has as far to go as Crowley does in understanding his!

Crowley, on the other hand, has got space to wallow. I mean, REALLY, just get all up in his feelings! There really is nothing keeping him afloat right now. We've seen him wallow before, but this might actually be worse. Of course, he was devastated when he thought Aziraphale was dead. That, however, definitely wasn't Aziraphale's choice. In Crowley's mind right now, Aziraphale chose Heaven over him. With the final outcome, pretty much the same (at least he likely believes there's a chance), he might never see Aziraphale again.

He's hit the trifecta Homeless, Jobless, Loveless! God has slammed him into rock bottom and is grinding his face in the dirt for fun!! As of right now, Crowley is that classic, nothing more to lose character. I'm fascinated with where Neil and John (and Terry from above) chose to have him start S3 emotionally. I guess it depends on how much time is going to have passed - days, weeks, months, or even years 😬. And where in the universe is he physically - London (Soho), somewhere else but still Earth, off Earth (Alpha Centurai) or Hell.

Here's what I'm hoping -

We need a meltdown of epic proportions!! It'd be great to see David break out those big emotional ("and I would like to spend...hmmmh"💔) acting chops here. BUT I'm thinking more GO comedy meltdown. London/UK wide blackout! Takes out a newly repaired Big Ben as he erupts driving past in Bentley! Demand outstrips supply for alcohol in the Soho/London area, causing the economy to crash or brawling on the streets! Something comically absurd and big enough that it might just get Hell's attention.... see where I'm going?!

But after his meltdown(s) and obligatory self-destructive period, because of course there will be! There's not a chance there won't be. We mere mortals fall to pieces after relationships of measly months fall apart, we are talking 6000 years here!! BUT after this, I want to see the nameless fallen angel, who redefined himself as Crawly, who redefined himself as Crowley and then finally as Anthony J Crowley show that same level of resilience. I want him to figure out what 'his side' now means to him, even if he can only be an 'us' in memory (because may be at this point he still belives Aziraphale is lost to him for ever). I want him to decide why he wants to be on Earth for himself, so that he wants to protect it just as much as Aziraphale, not just BECAUSE of Aziraphale. So he understands why Aziraphale could and would never be happy if they had just left Earth to Armageddon and run off together. Perhaps this is all facilitated by him being on the run from Heaven, trying to get rid of him before Aziraphale finds out. Encountering the kindness of strangers. Rediscovering the demon who designed the M25, who was an infamous bootlegger in WW2 or a Black Knight in medieval times. Because let's face it by S2, it looks as though he's abandoned all that and just settled into "married" life.

But he can't be on the run forever realises his best protection is Hell and Anthony J, the cunning demon that he is, approaches them. Convinces them he's sick of Earth, done with backstabbing angels for good and (not actually a complete lie) knows all about Heaven's plan for the next Armageddon. Hugely comical meltdown (I like the idea of Big Ben burning 😂), plus maybe a few mishaps here and there to protect himself along the way, means they lap it all up! Crowley, however, by now, having recovered himself mostly (he'll never be totally whole without his yang), has realised the best way back to Aziraphale is also through Hell, giving him even more hope. As a by-product, maybe a realisation that Aziraphale was never rejecting him, but trying to protect him in the only way he knew how. Now we have double agent Duke Of Hell Crowley, but he actually wants to protect Earth and humanity for himself as well as so he and Aziraphale can make their home here properly (*cough* *cough* the South Downs enters the chat - you never know maybe discovered a nice little retreat while on the run).

Kick off S3, or may be we're a few episodes in already?!

I'll embrace my masochism, I don't think it would be at all true to them or him if he just bounced back, so I want to see that grief from him. A comical meltdown is a must for me, personally. But I think a note of seriousness within there would be beautiful. We are, after all, in David Tennant's safe hands. My main point is that I would be hugely disappointed if that is all we see. Crowley just drunk in Bentley doing nothing until Aziraphale turns up to drag him out of his stuppor. He's SO much better than that!

As a bonus to Duke of Hell Crowley, Aziraphale will know none of this having been kept completely in the dark by Heaven. So that when Hell proudly announces their newest Duke is Crowley, he is rapt with anxiety that he's pushed him over the edge and lost him forever! Until their first meeting, negotiations between Heaven and Hell about how they will ensure Armageddon actually gets going this time. Midway through, Aziraphale in a total panic at this point, Crowley casually growls at one of his minions to "get outside and stop that blasted Nightingale from singing outside the window, it's too bloody distracting", before continuing with the plan to start a nuclear winter.

[soldierofjoy]

(Vent)

Theres no worse fucking feeling in the world than dropping your phone and pressing buttons while you try to catch it and looking at the screen in horror because you fucked something up

Like you called somebody or tagged them or blocked them or something. It just makes anxiety shoot to the fucking moon

[chiricat]

cosplay

[puppyeared]

its so hard to watch time pass when things like careers and assignments exist. what do you mean im supposed to take that seriously

[veryinnovative]

Mermaid Reggie would have such pretty scales

the prettiest ones like u can't imagine especially when they catch the light and shimmer like this iridescent sheen on newly harvested pearls. his near-opalescent skin and dewy lashes and big, sea-creature-thing eyes that blink up at james curiously when he carefully approaches the bathtub to give regulus his daily serving of fresh fish

i think regulus should have this otherworldly beauty to him that will have anyone at his beck and call but i also think that mayhaps james should have a drop of older siren blood or whatever the witchcraft fuck that makes him just immune enough to do things like grip regulus by the chin and firmly tell him 'no' when he tries bite james' hand off with his sharp jagged marine predator teeth

anyways pretty mermaid/merman reggie but also if he gets pissed off his eyes blacken and his hands shapeshift into claws and he hisses and pretty much morphs into the most vicious goldfish pet u can imagine. will calm down if james gets in the tub with him and just gives him a proper smooch

[tj-crochets]

So it turns out if I make this pattern with actual canvas instead of what I thought was canvas (it’s duck cloth) it’s a softer, more “reusable grocery bag” kind of bag and less of a tote?

This one is for my grandma! I think I’m making them for pretty much everyone on my list for the holidays this year

[milkweedman]

if at some point the nausea could go away at least long enough for me to catch my breath that would be nice

[countess-of-edessa]

“are the girls going to help you make pierogis?” well no one else is fucking gonna are they? no one else in this house has functional fucking hands apparently