#and an important note about the added surgery measures:

[thru-the-looking-glass-caroline]

Health issues & anxieties/worry thoughts

Yesterday I was able to come home from the hospital after a brief admission because I collapsed and had a seizure at home late in the evening on Saturday November 18th. I have no history of seizures so this was shocking, surreal, and scary for me and my family. After a lot of testing in the hospital the cause of my seizure was determined to be a major deficiency in vitaminB12 and magnesium as a result of my hyperthyroidism and malabsorption syndrome. I am relieved that the cause of the seizure was pre-existing conditions and not some sort of epilepsy, abnormality in my brain, or some other possible diagnosis discovered and added on to the list I've already been given. However simultaneously with the relief I still feel some anxiety, worry, fear, frustration, uneasiness and uncertainty. In and after circumstances where a new symptom/issue/mini crisis with my health emerges [in this instance it was me having a seizure], It's difficult to shake the anxious and worried thoughts and one of the biggest ones being that some new health condition/ something else wrong with me is going to be discovered and I will be forced to live, cope and try to battle/treat/medicate it as well. It's a sort of anxiety that is like an impending sense of...not really doom but more like something else is going to go wrong-the next shoe is going to drop. It's thoughts and worries about how this is going to effect my overall health if at all? Is this causing more damage to my already damaged heart, liver, bones, or eyes? How is this going to effect my family? Is it going to decrease my ability to function in life and my ability to do the things I love? Will l have to take more medication? What if I require some kind of surgery? Will I be in the hospital more? Will I be in the hospital longer? How much longer will I be able to dance and play sports and will my health problems put an early end to those passions?

Now this is NOT in any way me trying to insinuate that my health is so bad, and I am so sick and woe is me. I'm very aware that other people have much worse, some even terminal, health issues. However, on that side note who when they are sick or going through something is made better by being reminded that other people have it worse? One of the dancers in my acro and hip hop classes has asthma that gets pretty bad...should I or someone else go to her on a bad day and remind her that others have it worse...like at least you don't have lung cancer or lupus...it's only asthma! Will that cause her to need her inhaler less? Will it alleviate the anxiety that comes with not being able to breathe properly? No! Similarly, in the realm of mental health - the struggles of someone with depression are just as important, serious, difficult, valid and deserving of care as someone who has depression and schizophrenia or depression and drug addiction, depression and has attempted suicide, depression and an eating disorder. None of these needs to be ranked as having it worse than the other. This need we have to qualify and measure illness or situation against others and then determine what is worse is not only invalidating and shaming but gives space to this sick competitive one up‐man-ship vibe and conversation people can get in to...you know the kind where people tell of their ailments and struggles and in turn the next person tells their own that is suppose to be just as bad or worse than the person before. Anyways that's a soap box for some other time.

The issue with my hyperthyroidism and malabsorption syndrome is the severe deficiencies they cause do real damage-permanant damage to my organs and bones - every time more and more damage and I already have heart problems, I have already had to have a surgery on my heart. So each time something like this occurs where I am in the hospital I start to get the anxiety and worry - what's wrong now? Is it going to be so bad this time that I will have to give up dance and sports? One day it probably will come to that...I know that...my doctors have told me that and it's not that all my enjoyment and happiness in life or my whole identity is wrapped up in dance/being a dancer or a volleyball player, soccer player or tennis player. But those things are and have been a big part of who I am. They are things I love and am passionate about and good at...I work hard at. It will be a huge loss when that day where I have to give them up comes and that is scary for me.

The other big piece to this is the uncertainty, uneasiness and frustration. None of my immediate family has any health issues like I do! Not either of my parents or my brothers, not my Aunt and not my two cousins Kenzie and Grace. I am glad my family doesn't have these issues, don't get me wrong, but I still wonder WTF why is it all me? And what's coming next because if genetics play a part in any of my problems which science suggests it probably does then there's a lot of unease and uncertainty. If you don't know this from possibly my main blog then let me tell you that one whole side of my family tree and family history is a big question mark because my father was abandoned as an infant- he grew up in group homes run by the catholic church. He was named by those at the church he was abandoned at. My father lived and grew up in orphan group homes until He was old enough to be out on His own. He's never known his birth family- doesn't want to-and never had a family adopt him. My Aunt and my 2 cousins are the only extended family we have still alive and that is my mother's family. I wish I could explain to you just how uneasy this makes me. Maybe it doesn't make sense to you but it is very real and very much something I battle in my head a lot.

I am sorry this post is kind of rambling...just needed to get this crap out. I am glad to be home and I am doing okay and thank you to everyone...many from my main blog who messaged me concern and well wishes when I had the seizure 😊

[amo-ridere]

If I could change anything.......

The need for "variation"

Well, for starters, the medical field is too homogenized. That needs to change because the patients themselves aren't homogenized.

So little variation actually hurts the patients because, when a patient needs care, how are they to get the right care if it doesn't allow for some deviation in the patient's best interest?

Adding onto this, some of that diagnostic criterion is very rigid.

"Typical", you mean "Typical"

Saying that the results are "normal" is pretty misleading. What's "normal" to one patient (or set thereof) isn't normal to someone else (or another set of patients). Patients know their bodies and they listen to their bodies.

Since doctors are trained off textbook, they're going to go off what's typical, nevermind the "Zebras" in medical slang. Since everyone's insides are varied, maybe actually consider that their symptoms might present outside of typical.

"BMI" is bunk!

Y'all have been using that BS since the 50s and, frankly, it's bunk. IDGAF how "easy" is to separate people into categories. Doctors should consider that the BMI doesn't account for the differences in water, fat, or muscle weight, so you could be muscular and measure as "Obese".

On top of this, this scale doesn't account for ethnic, lifestyle, or cultural differences, either.

History is important and let's acknowledge it.

If you've been following me long enough, y'all would know that I'm a woman of color and, frankly, my iatrophobia is justified, especially in the gynecological field.

Acknowledging the history of the medical field and how ethics weren't a concept is how, perhaps, healing can start.

On that subject, let's discuss how a lot of gynecological procedures involve lack of anesthetics or, for that matter, at least, comfort at least. Ever wonder why that is?

Well, it's because Sims (the, quote, "father of modern gynecology") used enslaved black women, a group of women that was purported to have a higher pain threshold. Well, this is where intersectionality comes in, too, as his findings and methods carry over into modern time and all women get hurt in the process.

The unethicalness of medical history is a reason why several are iatrophobic.

Failing to acknowledge history is killing people in more ways than one.

Pain is PUNISHMENT

Biopsies and IUD insertions are practically surgeries, so why aren't they treated like such?

Adding onto this, when it comes to sensitive parts, why do these things have to hurt? They shouldn't hurt but, yet, they do.

If these procedures come with pain and lack of care, then it's just punishment and punishment leads to people dying of otherwise preventable disease.

Do doctors like traumatizing their patients?

Those little notes, yeah, we know about 'em

Mmm-hmm, yes, nurses and doctors write notes in your chart and those notes could be a reason why you're denied treatment.

So, if you're ever denied treatment, it's possible that nurse or doctor was mad at you and feeling petty. Worth noting is that "noncompliance" is subjective term.

Yeah, those types of notations NEEDS to stop.

Look at the bigger picture

Some of the patients might be labeled as "noncompliant" or have exacerbated issues because of external factors, either within or out of their control.

Perhaps, further inquiry should be required before one starts prescribing treatment, after all, some treatments work best in ideal situations but it's not enough to prescribe treatments and then get upset when they don't comply.

LISTEN to your patients, thank you.

As I reiterate, patients know their bodies and so will have to advocate for their bodies but, however, it seems like listening to one's body comes with punishment.

Between the above points about homogenized medicine, doctors being trained by textbook, and going off of "typical" (all of this being on a good day day), our bodies talk but doctors don't listen.

Condolences to the loved ones of those lost their loved because the medical establishment refused to listen to them. 🕯️

--------

These are condensed based on my own observations but, all in all, A LOT needs to change

[self-ships-ahoy]

My Heart in Your Hands

Saturday (Feb 13th) Heart / Soul / Confession

Summary: During the events of Mann vs. Machine, Technician faces her greatest fear for the good of her friends - and the love of her life.

Warnings: General depictions of surgery (nothing too graphic, but there is a lot of talk about Tech’s heart in the second half)

Word Count: 1,307

A/N: Ok...I am very very nervous about posting this fic. I had to scramble to find a good reason for Tech to have this surgery done (i.e. if lives were on the line), and I’m just always nervous when presenting my writings with Medic. I have seen quite a few people be critical about his depictions, if he’s ‘in character’ enough, and I was afraid of being met with that kind of criticism. But writing is supposed to be for fun, and IF I’m a little ooc with him, so what? I put a whole lot into this fic, and you’re going to really see the extent of their feelings, so I’m proud of it. (Also, about the end, I am totally one to use wordplay even if I’m just coming out of anesthesia, so yeah Tech is like that too.)

~ 💖 ~

     For as long as she could remember, Technician's greatest fear and weakness had been anything related to medical procedures. From the smell of a sterilized office to the mere sight of a needle, it all made her anxious at best and panic-stricken at worst. Everyone at the RED base knew this, since they heard how she ‘freaked out’ during her initial physical examination. Fortunately, although her phobias still remain, her reactions have started to become less severe over time, thanks in big part to her relationship with Medic. Forming a friendship, and later a romantic affair, with him helped her tolerance to her fear triggers greatly. Her desire to see him had her visiting the medbay often, where she soon became accustomed to many sights and smells of the lab. The doctor remained supportive of Technician working to overcome her fears, and he took an active role in the process. Still, Katie had a long way to go, and he knew that. He knew, by now, what kind of answer he would get to a proposed surgery, even though he only offered what was for her benefit. "It's very sweet that you care that much, but it's just not worth it to me." So, he would sigh in defeat and drop the subject, loving her too much to breach the boundaries she set.

     This pattern continued until 1971. Mann Co. was under siege by Grey Mann, effectively taking control from Saxton Hale with an army of robots. Both Red and Blu teams were hired to take back the company, so far with little avail. It all seemed pointless to Technician, at first, if not fortunate; this could be her ticket out of here, if she could convince Grey to fire her. Then the game changed. In an effort to drive the mercs away for good, Grey's forces managed to sabotage and shut down respawn - for good. Now, they could actually die. After so many years of being alone, Katie couldn't bear the thought of losing her friends. With Medic's new reviving invention still a work in progress, that thought could become a reality. She would do anything to keep them safe, even just to increase that chance by a fraction of a percentage. This was what she came to talk to Medic about, one quiet afternoon at the base.

     The two of them sat on the couch in his office. The programmer remained silent, a hesitant and apprehensive frown on her face. She had yet to reveal why she called Medic here, and the longer she waited, the more concerned he became. However, his patience was finite, and spending the whole day on this conversation could be time otherwise spent working on his invention. "Darling," he addressed her gently, but with seriousness, "Vhatever is troubling you, don't be afraid to tell me about it; I cannot help you if you don't tell me...nor do I have time to vait much longer."

     Technician's chest tightened, her eyes squeezing shut for a moment. She couldn't wait forever. Sighing nervously, she began, "...I need you to...do something for me."

     "Anything," he answered without question.

     Another short pause. "I'm scared. I really think we could die out there..." She held his hand for support. "I can't lose you, Ludwig. You're the most important person in my life...and you're all my friends... You're the closest thing I have to family. So, I want to do whatever I can to help protect you."

     "...Vhat are you saying?"

     "...I want you to put Über in me."

     Medic couldn't believe what he heard. Technician seemed to have a knack for surprising him, but, understandably, this was a big deal. Thus far, she had refused every surgery offer presented to her, and now she comes to him and requests one? The man was no reader of emotions, but judging from the tension on her face, and how she squeezed his hand, it didn't seem like she was completely positive of the decision. Excited as he felt, he had to make sure they were on the same page, or he could lose her trust in him forever. "You are...absolutely sure of zhis?"

       Technician went quiet again before answering. "I don't know. But...I want to be. I don't want to be afraid of this, especially if it could help you stay alive. With how often I've fallen onto front lines, it could even protect me, too. But..."

     "If it's pain you're concerned about, I promise zhe pain medications I use, in addition to zhe medigun, vill decrease anything you feel down to manageable levels." He couldn't help but try to convince her to go through with it. Despite her indecision, he agreed with her points that supported the procedure; this could protect her and her friends, should she fall into danger. "You won't even need stitches," he added with a small smile.

     He was getting excited, she could hear it in his voice. Technician expected as much, but she had to finish. "It's not just about the pain. I just...I don't like operations, I never did. You know that... And...I wanted to make sure I could...trust you with it. And I do, now. It's just...hard."

     Medic's smile grew when he heard that he finally earned Technician's trust. That alone made him feel so accomplished. "I promise you, I vill handle zhe procedure vis as much care as I handle our fledgling doves. You have my word as a doctor - license or no." He tilted his head down to further meet her gaze. "Does zhat ease any of your fear?"

     "...Yeah. It does."

~~~

     On the day of the operation, Technician's friends all came to give their support. She was facing a great challenge for the good of the team, and for her own safety, a decision that they all could commend. Soldier told her she was making her country proud by pushing through the fear; Scout brought her some comic books to read for when she's in recovery; Sniper and Engineer pledged to stay by her bedside when she goes under and when she wakes up; even Spy said he would anticipate hearing her wake from a successful operation. Their faith and encouragement helped Technician move forward with this, and she kept their words and gestures in mind when nervously changing into her special hospital gown. Above all, she remembered all Medic promised to do for her, to keep her as comfortable as possible.

       Placing her jewelry in a plastic bag, her thumb brushed over the heart-shaped pendant of her necklace. That was a prized possession now, a symbol of how much she was cherished. As she stared at it, her mind began retracing every instance of Ludwig prioritizing her happiness. This...this was a man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. And why: because she knew she could entrust him with her very life, even on the operating table. She knew that if she asked him to do or not do something, he would take that request seriously. She's going to go into the operating room with full confidence that Medic will do nothing more than implant the Über device in a human heart. That was true love.

     Technician made her way to the hospital bed, and squeezed Dell's hand as the I.V. went in her wrist. As she settled down from that, Medic gleefully presented his patient with precautions he doesn't usually take during surgery, such as a clean pair of gloves and keeping Archimedes at a distance, so the dove doesn't get tempted to play assistant surgeon. In the time between now and the first Über implantation, Medic had even been experimenting with his invention to make it more efficient, i.e. less likely to overload the patient's heart and what not. There was a good chance that Technician could come out of this with her original heart in tact.

     At last, the time came for her to be put under anesthesia, per her request. Katie kept her eyes away from the sight, but listened to Medic's voice as she slipped into unconsciousness. "You'll be awake and feeling good as new in no time, my dear. Don't worry..." he told her calmly as he watched her drift off. Engineer and Sniper then left the room, and the procedure began.

     Everything was running well. Throughout the procedure, Medic talked to his patient as if she was awake, from making light (one-sided) conversation to commenting on each step he was taking. (He said she had very healthy ribs, for instance.) At last, Technician's heart was successfully removed and resting in the doctor's delicate hold. He was being timely about each step so far, never stalling or rushing; but here was when he began to pause, staring at his love's heart while the medigun kept her on life support. The power he felt was indescribable, surmounted only by the honor of being granted the chance to literally hold Katie's very life in his hands. He, too, understood the significance of being allowed to perform this surgery on her, the amount of trust it showed she had in him. There was excitement from finally getting to operate, yes, but...it had yet to truly sink in until this moment.

       As he cradled the tiny, life-giving muscle, a euphoria began to overtake him. This was more than just the thrill of practicing medicine; this was finally realizing the meaning of his beloved not only allowing, but asking without prompt, to partake in her greatest fear. The love she had for him was stronger than her fear and doubt, for she realized that he would never hurt her. And for all the love he felt for her, and how much closer he would feel to her if given the chance to do this, hearing her finally approve was his strongest wish. Ludwig was already sure he had found The One, but now - oh, now he was 100% positive and then some. His breathing cut short a couple times as his eyes began to well up. But, instead of crying, he began to laugh - slowly, quietly, then rising in strength with his elation. It was a laugh of pure joy, unlike anything else ever heard in the operating room.

~~~

     Awaking from the anesthesia was a slightly difficult task, only due to Technician's penchant for prolonging sleep. With the pain medication still in her system, she had almost forgotten for a moment that she had underwent surgery. But a growing echo of voices helped pull her out of her induced slumber.      

     "I think she's comin' to, doc. Hey, Tech, can ya hear us?"

     "Come on, mate..."

     "Vake up, meine geliebte~. Zhe surgery is all over now."

     The sing-song tones of Medic's call lured her out of her sleeping state, and cerulean eyes fluttered open to the sight of the doctor's beaming smile. To her left, Engineer and Sniper sat with their own happy expressions. Technician turned her gaze back to Medic, attempting to speak through her haze. "Did...everything..."

     "Everything vent perfectly, darling, visout a hitch." Medic answered her, "I hadn't completed a procedure zhat smoothly in years, heh." In truth, there had been one or two slight deviations in the plan - minor errors that he was able to work around, and certainly not worth mentioning to the tomophobic programmer. That being said, it was still one of Medic's more successful operations. "How do you feel?"

     She thought for a moment, hesitant to feel her heart in case she might feel the Über implant. "Strange...Tired... Chest feels tight. Is my heart okay?"

     Engineer spoke up with more words of reassurance, "Heart's a-OK, Techie. Doc said it survived the whole thing, no transplants 'r anything like that."

     "It vas remarkable to witness," Medic commented with glee, "For a heart of such small size, I vas expecting more resistance to zhe device. My upgrades must have made an even greater improvement zhan anticipated!"

     The corners of her lips began to curl as she heard the great news. Above all, she was worried about her heart needing to be replaced with something bizarre for the device to work. But, the doctor fulfilled his promises and kept her heart intact...as did another force unbeknownst to her. Should someone tell her of it, she would show no surprise at the fact.

     Facing Medic again, Technician inched her hand closer to him, a kind look in her sleepy eyes. "I knew you could do it... I was in good hands."

[a-stitch-in-time-and-space]

some (not new) ideas I’m throwing at the wall vis-a-vis gender and star trek (esp in ds9)

Note: We’re eeeeever so slowly moving into times in which “transgender” - as useful a phrase as it is - isn’t the catch-all it’s been for the past 15 or so years, mainly with an understanding that gender is an infinite, fascinating playground that is affected by culture and time. I’m partially using transgender/trans here, and partially terms like nb, genderqueer, femme, and masc as well as “gender transgressive” which is useful to describe, well... transgressive gender.

However I wish I could jump into the future to see what terminology exists then...

I do think there’s something interesting in certain transphobic media, esp the kind that deals with crossdressing-for-laughs (vs drag, which is ofc community-based), because even though it’s usually done mockingly by cisgender heterosexual guys, it reveals how undeniably queer certain ideas are, even if that queering is done in a punch-down sort of way

surprise, this is about Profit and Lace, specifically in how it introduces the idea of transgressive gender in Quark and in Rom, accidentally building off Pel’s story in Rules of Acquisition.

surface story is yeah: Quark makes an ugly woman, with a dose of misogynistic haha women and their hormones amirite (and that opening *shudders*), but what is fascinating is how easily Quark is able to access what we’d today call gender affirming surgery in a future where you can be altered to look like all kinds of different species. 

all this handwringing about regret and “staying in your gender” (which isn’t how it woooorks for a lot of us) and not allowing consent over our own bodies and the patronizing, ahistorical, unscientific, slew of unwanted commentary from everyone and their mums, it’s just... not there. they know Quark is going to reverse the surgery the second the jig is up and Julian still just does it, because sure, got a moment to spare.

you wanna have boobs? yeah, go on. you wanna have boobs and still be considered a man? uh-huh, that’s cool - wow, Rom makes a wonderful “woman,” don’t you think? (and Leeta’s.. kind of in support of that!) 

I’ve argued a fair few times that Rom is trans/nb/femme/genderqueer by Ferengi standards (that is, gender is measured by business-sense/lobes and is its own kind of binary -- also on that note... their mother is trans/nb/genderqueer by that measurement too). It’s a really fascinating overlap between financial class and gender as a caste system (which affects both Ishka and Rom in different ways), which also exists on earth irl today, even though that intersectionality doesn’t  get discussed enough outside of queer circles.

I think Quark fits that standard as well, but he’s fighting it a lot harder than Rom is. The central tension of Quark’s series long arc is his attempts to be A Good Ferengi Male and failing over and over and when he occasionally succeeds, how he doesn’t often feel good about that. He blames a lot of this on the Federation, but by all accounts it was in him to begin with, although he used to be able to cover it up more easily.

Quark desperately wants to get it right, but a lot of the time he’s clearly masking. Sometimes he really enjoys it though, it’s not like with Rom where he has no sense for business, so much as it takes effort.

meanwhile Pel (whom I HC as masc) doesn’t have access to the kinds of surgeries that are so easy to get in the Federation, which puts her in danger - much like not having access puts us in danger today. I'm sort of torn on the headcanon that she either gets her lobes enlarged via the same surgical procedure (which, again, is so no big deal in the future) or because she’s in the gamma quadrant, she’s able to reimagine gender without having to change herself physically - which many trans/nb/genderqueer or otherwise gendered/non-gendered people also don’t want to do.

I also think it’s interesting that Quark-as-a-woman who is dressed in clothes (gasp) is fetishized, because she’s oh so transgressive -- exactly what happens to us today and one reason why so many trans people end up in sex work (of any kind - here’s me adding: get that money however you can and want to, siblings, much love and support). 

I bet there are underground sexual “deviancy” shops that sell fake lobes to imagine your female is actually the man of the house, or even lobe-enhancement that some females take to “pass” although they were actually designed for helping out your small-lobed son “perform business better”

(all of my talk of lobes: here’s the reminder that lobes in Ferengi culture are sexual characteristics)

bottom line, the tension between cisgender (heterosexual) people trying desperately to maintain a binary system of understanding gender and how they play in genderqueer sandpits is always interesting for me to watch. 

on the one hand they’ll argue there are innate social behaviours that exist in women (and they exist across species) - the way Quark has to learn to walk for example, or even - interestingly - that when Ishka starts dressing, her style is very different from men’s dress (maybe inspired by an older version of Ferengi culture where females weren’t so oppressed? - Ishka as transfemme? She could notice that she and Rom have the same likes and she buys him - gasp buys with her own money!! - a lovely dress and one of those massive lobe-earring/necklace things (lobe-lace?), so they match) - and innate social behaviours that exist in men

on the other hand they will unknowingly present a future in which the distinctions between woman and man are so immaterial that you can access any kind of physical surgery you want - in the Federation that is, and differently defined throughout different species on different planets. I always liked the idea that the further away from the “paradise” of earth you get, the more diverse the gender distinctions become but in a lot of these places they also practise rigid systems, like on Ferenginar. I can imagine some majority-human planet worshipping the old ways of the 20th century and enforcing that colonialist gender binary, urgh, can you imagine....

You wonder what things like “assigned gender and sex at birth” might mean in a future where there’s no social capital involved in assigning those kinds of things, if anything.

 And so, Profit and Lace is -- still not a good episode. I remember one of the DS9 writers talking about how unexpectedly well it’s aged and it absolutely has not. It’s misogynistic and transphobic, but I think also very important in the canon of Star Trek’s accidental gender-exploration (Star Trek’s accidental gender-exploration sounds like the title of an article....)

sometimes you find the best gold nuggets in the trash.

and on that note: time to spin the wheel and headcanon that O’Brien was (using today’s terminology) assigned female at birth and decided he liked the sound of being a boy when he was thirteen (his parents like: “for your birthday we got you gender reassignment! and you can always change your mind.”)

also I wrote it above, but Rom and Ishka wearing matching outfits and it being equally shocking is *chefs kiss* (esp with Rom as Nagus)

[seriouslyhooked]

The Best Bad Idea

Three-part CS AU where Emma and Killian are doctors working at the same hospital (world without pandemic). They’ve yet to meet, but Emma has definitely seen the sexy Dr. Jones in her travels at Mist Haven Medical. It’s generally a bad idea to get involved with a colleague, but a little fantasizing never hurt… right? Inspired by the song ‘Bad Idea’ by Ariana Grande and a TV couple who set the bar for true love stories. 

Available on FF Here and AO3 Here. 

A/N: Hey all! Here is a little something I made instead of being a responsible writer and finishing my other projects. I’ll be back to my other WIPs soon (God willing), but in the meantime here’s my 1000th attempt at writing a Captain Swan meet cute. I needed to get some words on the page, and this is the result. Hope you all enjoy, and thanks for reading!

Thump, thump. Thump, thump. Thump, thump. Thump, Thump. Steady, sure, and even. A solid pulsing sound with no inconsistencies and no delays or false starts.

In this particular patient, that fourth set of beats was the most important. Prior to his recent operation, Earl MacDonald’s heart had been weak and skipping needed pulses, then constricting far too harshly on every fourth measure. That type of arrhythmia had potentially disastrous consequences, but those worrying beats were seemingly behind them. The rhythm Emma heard through the stethoscope was a regularly circulating drumline, the tell-tale song of a heart that was working, and working well. Her surgical intervention had been successful.

She gently released the breath she was holding, a sign of the stress that she carried while waiting for patients to recuperate. Emma never let the patients see her sweat, but she had been worried on multiple levels in this case. Earl was going on 80, and not a logical contender for intensive cardiac mediation, but Emma’s gut had told her he could handle it, and she was rarely ever wrong. Earl forged through the surgery like a much younger man, and his outputs post-operation had all been extremely encouraging. It was shaping up to be another win, another life saved thanks to the power of medicine, and that filled Emma with real joy. She always did her absolute best to create good outcomes, and this time there was so much more on the line than one life. This was a man who was loved and cherished by the people closest to him, and who would be sorely missed if something were to happen.

“Anything you want me to note for the chart, Doctor Swan?” 

Emma bit back a witty retort at the pointed use of the word ‘Doctor.’ She was one of the few surgeons in this hospital who didn’t care what people called her, as long as they called on her early enough to actually save the patient’s life. But with Belle, a person Emma considered a dear and true friend, there was an added lilt of sass when using her title. Her friend was one of the nurse practitioners that Emma had been working with for years, since the day she landed here as a medical intern, but despite their differences in degrees, Belle was easily the most well-read and brilliant resource when it came to medical literature in this hospital.

“Just that Mr. MacDonald is healing nicely.”

“Did you hear that Lorraine?” Earl asked, with a Cheshire cat smile on his face, and the glint of true pride in his eyes. “Doctor Emma says I’m healing nicely.”

“Hard not to hear, seeing as I’m right beside you,” Loraine quipped, but she squeezed his hand affectionately, and offered a warm smile to her husband all the same.

“You know, usually being dubbed ‘nice’ is the kiss of death for a man.”

“Earl!” Loraine chastised, clearly not liking his word choice. Earl smiled wider, looking almost boyish in his delight.

“Well, so to speak. But I was going to say that I think we can make an exception this time. I’ve never been so happy to be referred to as ‘nice’ in my life.”

“Technically Doctor Swan was referring to your vital signs, Earl,” Belle taunted from across the room, holding back a smile Emma knew she was bound to let loose soon enough.

“Aw come on, you both know I am your favorite patient. I mean I’m not exactly pressed for competition. Have you seen the people on this floor? Good grief.”

“Ignore him, ladies. He’s all talk. He hasn’t left this room since we got here,” Loraine said, rolling her eyes, as if these antics were a constant occurrence. Based on her small window of experience with Earl, Emma would believe it. “Every meal, every visit, every moment has been within these four walls. Even his PT has been in here.”

“His PT has been here?” Emma asked, surprised that Mary Margaret, their head Occupational Therapist, had allowed for that. She was normally a by-the-book professional, and Emma never knew her friend to provide rehab consults outside of her studio.

“Yup. I told Miss Mary Margaret that I had a wife to keep an eye on and she relented.”

“No, actually what you said was, ‘Excuse me, Ms. Blanchard? You probably heard I just had heart surgery. Well, the thing is, my heart is sitting in this room. I’d like to be with her. Doesn’t seem right to be separated so soon, given what we’ve been through.’ Then you pointed at me, and used your puppy dog eyes on her. Next thing I knew, she had lugged enough equipment to fill the room here. No questions, just action.”

“I bet she ate that right up,” Belle said with a wink. “Mary Margaret loves nothing more than love itself.”

Belle and Mrs. MacDonald discussed Mary Margaret’s love of love, and Earl’s improved mobility, for a few more minutes while Emma continued checking his stats, but ultimately Earl’s patience was wearing thin. He really only had one thing on his mind, and he was now determined to ask about it. Emma was honestly shocked that he managed to wait this long. She knew it was only a matter of time and she was ready for the showdown.

“So, what do you think, Doc? Am I making it home in time for the party?”

“The one for your grandson on Sunday?” she asked, noting the three-day window between now and then. She had heard about this party non-stop, since the moment Earl woke up from the procedure. It was a central fixation for the old man, a celebration that would host his entire family, and a goal he had been carrying for over a week. Earl nodded and Emma hesitated for a few seconds, before smiling and giving the good news away. “Yes, I am confident that Jayden’s ‘Pop Pops’ will be in attendance when he turns four. But you know the rules…”

“I know, I know: no good food, no strenuous exercise, no having fun.”

“Earl.” Just the utterance of the old man’s name from his wife was enough to have him looking like a kid with his hand caught in the candy jar. Emma and Belle both chuckled at that child-like expression. It was hard not to; the old married couple was just too sweet.

“I’m sorry. I know this is serious, but what is life if you can’t have a little fun?”

“Fun comes in all shapes and sizes, Mr. MacDonald, and despite what you may think about your prescribed lifestyle changes, you’re forgetting two things. First, most of these less-alluring prescriptions will be temporary, and second, you’re a man who clearly loves a challenge.”

“Oh yeah? And how do you know that, Doc?” 

“Well for one thing, you somehow landed a lady as remarkable as Loraine. There’s no way she came easy with these corny jokes of yours. You must have worked harder than you ever worked in your life to persuade her to give you a chance.”

The laughter from the older couple was boisterous and heartwarming, and Emma knew she was right on the money. At this point, she had the ability to sniff out true affection, and these two had it in spades. Many couples she saw facing emergency room disasters together didn’t have the same good luck.

“You got that right, Doc. You know the first time we met was at the -,”

Earl’s story was unceremoniously interrupted by the crackling of the PA system specific to this room. It buzzed for a few moments before a message was delivered in a saccharine sweet voice that sounded nothing like the announcer’s normal tone.

“Paging Doctor Swan to the Nurse’s station. Doctor Swan to the Nurse’s station, code 741.”

Emma waited for the feed to cut off and began to tell Earl to please go on with the story, but the call came out again.

“Paging Doctor Swan to the Nurse’s station. Doctor Swan, code 741.”

“You know she’s just going to keep doing that until she gets her way,” Belle murmured. Emma nodded. It was no use. What Ruby Lucas wanted, Ruby Lucas got. That just seemed to be the way of the world.

“Belle, would you mind telling Ruby I’m with a patient at the moment? I will be there when I can. She can always proceed without me.”

Belle snorted out a laugh, knowing that last part would never happen, but gave a swift affirmation that she would relay the message before waving goodbye to the MacDonald’s and promising to see them soon. As her friend headed out, Emma sighed, knowing there was no way Ruby was going to give things up that easily. She had a matter of moments before some new tactic would be deployed.

“I’m sorry about that. You were saying?”

“Eh it’s kind of a long story, and you’ve got places to be, Doc. Just know, true love won out in the end with me and my Loraine. It always does.”

Emma couldn’t deny that their love appeared true even after their fifty plus years together. She personally had never experienced a love like that, but she was wondering more and more if maybe it was out there, somewhere in the later chapters of her story. For years she thought herself above that kind of need. She found validation in herself and in her work. She dedicated herself to helping others, and that had always been enough. But the loneliness that became a constant when she was growing up in foster care still lingered, and she wondered if someone might ever come along who could inspire her to take a chance and risk her heart.

“You know, I actually worked as a nurse before my kids were born,” Loraine commented easily. Emma nodded and smiled as she checked the last of Mr. MacDonald’s IV drips. Emma was aware of the older woman’s solid medical understanding. Loraine had continued to demonstrate it the entire time her husband was admitted in this ward. “I’m trying to remember if I ever ran into a code 741.”

“Oh, uh, I think – well, erm, I mean you probably didn’t,” Emma said, hoping she didn’t turn beet red at the passing comment from the older woman. She was already stuttering, which was completely out of character and eighty shades of embarrassing. Loraine’s words feigned ignorance, but her eyes told a different story. Still Emma tried to play it off. “It’s really not a big deal. Just a non-emergent protocol.”

Another alert sounded, but this time it came through the ceiling unit reserved for announcements to the wider reaches of the hospital. “Attention to all surgical ward personnel. We are paging Doctor Swan to the nurse’s station. Doctor Swan, you are needed at the nurse’s station immediately for a code 741.” The talking stopped, but the air crackled signaling that the line was still live. “Immediately.”

“Sounds pretty urgent to me,” Loraine replied. The curiosity in her gaze told Emma that the older woman was onto them, but it was Earl’s comment that cut too close for comfort.

“When I was in the war, all of our numeric codes corresponded to letters. So 7 was H, 4 was D, 1 was A. H – D – A. HDA, now what could that be….?” Uh oh. Now Emma really had to get out of here before she accidentally admitted Ruby’s code’s meaning – Hot Doctor Alert. That would be the cherry on top of a full-blown mortification sundae.

“All righty, well like I told Belle, all your scans look good. Doctor Whale is on shift this evening during the next series of rounds, so I’ll make sure your file is ready for him.”

“Of course, dear, and good luck with your doctor, er – I mean – code.”

Emma stammered out something like an ‘okay thanks,’ while leaving. She tried to get her bearings once she was out of sight of the room, but she had nowhere to go. Everyone on this floor had just heard her page, and there were bound to be at least a few who understood the meaning. She was so embarrassed, and more than a little ticked at Ruby. She was supposed to be her best friend, but she was always pulling these crazy stunts. They were mostly harmless, but for Emma, who hated being the subject of hospital gossip, it was anxiety inducing to say the least.

“Please tell me that you did not just broadcast that to the entire hospital,” Emma said, arriving at the nurse’s station with a sense of urgency, and watching some of the other nurses scurry off to avoid the confrontation. Ruby, however, was unfazed. Actually, the nurse manager just rolled her eyes, grabbing her bag and phone from her cubby, as if Emma was the one who was annoying and not the other way around.

“And here I was thinking we were the best of friends. Soul sisters, kindred spirits, friends for life. But no, ye of little faith, you actually believe I would broadcast the hot doc alert to all of Mist Haven? What kind of friend would do that?”

“But if you didn’t… then how did you…?” Emma’s questions trailed off, but her arms flailed towards the ceiling and the look on her face spoke for itself – how had Ruby used the hospital wide PA system without actually broadcasting to the entire hospital?

“You know Tink up in nuero?” Emma nodded, well acquainted with the nurse manager who had Ruby’s job on the fifth floor but with a specialization of the brain and nervous system. She was a tiny woman, but she ruled that ward with more than capable hands. “She and I bribed the IT guys to make the nurse managers an override. Now we can circumvent the PA software whenever we want. Bring some of you more stubborn Doctors to heal when it comes to answering our pages.”

“That’s… well, actually that’s genius,” Emma admitted.

“I like to think so,” Ruby teased, offering a genuine smile. The two friends laughed at all of this, and Emma felt so much better knowing that their secret was still relatively secure. The last thing she wanted was everyone knowing how she was spending her lunch breaks these days.  

“Gus, you’re holding down the fort while I’m gone, right?” Ruby asked, her smile turning slightly wicked with the purposeful jest aimed at the new nursing aid sitting behind the desk.

“Me?” The new hire replied, suddenly white as a sheet. Emma had never seen the man so stricken, and as a new nurse he had plenty of high-stress moments to look alarmed during. “I – uh – well – I -,”

“It’s called comedic relief, Gus. Commonly referred to as joking. Do me a favor, learn about it by the end of shift, kay?” Ruby pivoted to the person she actually trusted to man the fort. “Thirty minutes work for you, Belle?”

“I’ve got it handled.”

“Excellent. We’ll return with a full report,” Ruby said, grabbing Emma’s arm and moving them down the hallway before Emma could even say goodbye. “Newbies – can’t live with them, can’t pawn off scut work without them.”

“You are terrible. And yet… the look on his face just now…? Priceless,” Emma acquiesced. “But seriously, Ruby, can we PLEASE find another way to page me for this? My patients are not stupid, and the code isn’t exactly original. It’s kind of…” Ruby’s grin was so big that it stopped Emma in her tracks. She was currently trying to hold her friend to account, but Ruby looked like she’d won the lottery. “What?”

“You are so totally into him! I mean listen to you right now.”

“I didn’t say anything!” Emma said, feeling her cheeks flush against her will. 

“Exactly,” Ruby said. “You’re telling me to be more discreet when I send the bat signal, but you still want me to send it. Do you realize how unlike you that is?”

“Despite what you may think, Ruby. I’m a doctor, I’m not dead. I can appreciate a hot guy now and again.”

“Doubtful. Remember last month when all those pro hockey players were here after Ocheski collapsed on the ice? You had a room full of crazy sexy men. Like virile, hot, muscled men who get paid big money to beat each other up on the ice. Most women would die for that chance, and to make it even better, most of them were hitting on you. And what did you do? Nothing. You didn’t even blink.”

“They were not hitting on me,” Emma affirmed, but the words were hollow. They had been trying to flirt with her. A few had even attempted to get her number.

“They were hitting on you,” Ruby said adamantly.  

“He was a patient, and the rest of them were essentially his family. You know I’d never cross that line. Doesn’t count.”

“Fine, then what about Dr. King? When he came for that conjoined twins case last year, you had no interest. Zero. Zilch.”

“King was an asshole, you know that,” Emma said, belatedly catching her use of profanity and checking that no patients were around. Luckily the coast was clear.

“So? You didn’t have to marry the guy. Hot is hot, honey. That’s just how things are.” 

Emma barked out a laugh at even the thought of marrying someone like that. Arthur King was just about the worst person she could fathom to spend a life with. He was narcissistic and carrying around one of the biggest god-complexes she’d ever seen, and she was a surgeon, so she was an expert on god-complexes. 

“Your face really says it all, Emma. I mean honestly, poker would be a terrible game for you to take up. Your contempt for King is obvious, but, meanwhile, as soon as I mention Doctor Jones… aha! See, totally shifted.”

Emma didn’t know what to say to that. She could try and protest, but her friend knew her too well for that. The best thing to do was say nothing, and she was saved by their arrival at their destination. The coffee cart in the center of the action, near the entrance of Mist Haven. Here was where the wards crossed paths. Her surgical wing met up with the specialties departments, the ER, the community clinic, and more. It was also swarmed with both hospital workers and visitors. Typically, this was the last place she wanted to be, but recently it had become a highlight of her day.

“Emma? Ruby? What’s brought you out here?” a voice asked. It was Mary Margaret, and given her street clothes and jacket, Emma would guess she was just starting her shift.

“Haven’t you heard? There’s fresh meat from the ER. Two showings a day, but we favor the afternoon delight.”

“Oh right,” Mary Margaret said, nodding, like Ruby’s words were totally normal, and for Ruby they were. “I heard about the new ER Chief. Doctor Nolan? I meant to get down there and bring him something to welcome him, but I’ve been so swamped this week. My caseload is crazy at the moment. I hope he won’t think too badly of me for being a bit late.”

“Mary Margaret, literally no one in a hospital brings people cupcakes as a welcome gift, especially not new guys in other departments.” Ruby was not wrong. Hospitals were hardly the most happy-go-lucky of places. At least not usually. “Believe me, the man will be grateful whenever they come. If he even eats them. He’s fit – like fit, fit. Keto diet and a personal trainer fit. The kind of fit that makes you -,”

“Careful, Ruby,” Emma teased. “What if Graham heard you saying that?”

“God, I wish. You know how worked up he gets, and how he works out his frustrations.” Ruby’s tone was dripping in suggestion. “It’s one of the many reasons I live to drive him crazy.”

Emma and Mary Margaret laughed at Ruby’s apt assessment of her relationship with her boyfriend. Ruby had been dating the fireman for almost a year now, since he came in on one of the ambulance bays with a victim he’d rescued from a fire, but Ruby was hardly the predictable type, and Graham seemed to love that about her. They were still going strong despite her willful, wild child nature, and Emma suspected they may be built to last.

“Doctor Nolan must really be something to get you out here, Emma,” Mary Margaret said, moving forward in the line, inching ever closer to the mediocre coffee the cart promised.  

“Ha! Hardly. Emma’s not here for Nolan. She’s here for Jones.”

“Jones?” Mary Margaret asked.

“Girl, where have you been? Doctor Killian Jones, trauma surgeon extraordinaire. Chief Mills brought him here for a ‘collaboration’ with the ER, but she’s totally trying to recruit him for head of his own department. Turns out he and David Nolan are old friends. Same medical school maybe? I don’t know, no one’s gotten me those details yet. Anyway, Regina hardly leaves him alone. She only misses this little window because she’s hooking up with Doctor Locksley in the supply room on the 2nd floor.”

“She’s WHAT?!” Emma and Mary Margaret yelled at the same time and Ruby looked aghast for the first time today. Some other hospital staff in the area glanced over, but no one paid much mind beyond a head nod. Everyone was absorbed in their own need for caffeine, and no one was the wiser of the bombshell Ruby had just dropped.

“Oh shoot, I wasn’t supposed to say that. I promised Ella, damn it!”

“Ella, her assistant? I thought she quit,” Mary Margaret stage whispered.

“Oh she did. Made it a whole two months, which, you know, makes sense given the fact that Regina is a nightmare. But the last week she was here, she learned a crucial secret regarding her Majesty. She spilled last week at The White Rabbit, but I promised her I wouldn’t tell until she’s settled at her new job at GMH. So you did not hear this from me, and I did not hear this from her, capische?”

“I can’t believe the Evil Queen is dating someone,” Mary Margaret said, deeply disturbed by the idea. She shuddered at the thought, and this was someone who loved love. But love and Regina Mills didn’t really feel like concepts that belonged in the same sentence. Scratch that, they didn’t really even belong in the same book. “She’s just so…”

“Evil?” Emma responded. The nickname worked for a reason, after all. The hospital Chief was downright tyrannical.

“Exactly.”

“Well dating is a stretch. She’s screwing someone. But then again, who knows. Ella said she actually saw her smiling in those final days. And not that evil one she’s famous for. Like a real, genuine, I have a heart, smile.”

“No way,” Emma said at the same time Mary Margaret murmured, “Well would you look at that.”

“Don’t worry. I’m on the case. The temp is a totally easy mark – Sydney something. I’m buying him lunch tomorrow. I’ll have the whole story before you know it.”

“Won’t Graham be proud,” Emma chuckled, but her joke fell on deaf ears as something caught Ruby’s attention across the way. Her friend’s countenance changed immediately, putting Emma on alert.

“Ooh, they’re coming! Act normal.”

Normally, Emma would have laughed at that command, but she was too busy feeling the spike of adrenaline at the impending arrival of one Doctor Killian Jones. He really was a world-renowned trauma surgeon, who was working on a number of cutting-edge techniques that saved lives and gave critical care patients better chances to recover. She had actually heard of him a few years ago when reading about a new procedure to treat arrhythmia in patients with traumatic injury. He engineered it in the field, while serving in the British naval forces, and his paper had been circulating in cardiac wings around the country, but she never saw the man before last week when he arrived in Boston.  Suffice it to say she could not have imagined that this marvel of modern medicine would also be so roguishly handsome.

Spotting him today across the great hall, Emma was struck again by just how attractive this man was. She couldn’t even comprehend it really. All she knew was that she had yet to find a fault in him. Every day she’d stolen secret glances, and every time he proved better than her memory. It was crazy, and very reminiscent of schoolgirl crushes and teenage day dreams, but she couldn’t help the way she felt. It was intoxicating, and despite her best efforts, she was powerless to turn Ruby’s invites to the show down when she could witness this each and every day.

The first thing that she’d noticed about him was his general presence. His posture was strong and straight and assured. He looked ready for anything, but somehow laid back, like he was totally in control. People naturally parted when he walked by, as if he silently willed the flow of the hospital traffic. Ruby called it swagger. Emma called it… well something not quite safe for work. Couple that general aura of authority with the classically gorgeous features of his face, and Emma was lost. On that first day (and okay, maybe on the others as well), she actually felt her knees get weak. She always thought that was a bogus cliché, but nope, it was real, and she was the proof of it. From there she was hooked, and over time she’d chronicled more and more things to like about him.

Yesterday it had been his hair. As she watched him across the atrium, she noticed that the shade shone bright in the sun, but that it was nearer to midnight than any color brown. It was slightly longer than most of the other male doctors wore theirs, but not so long that it looked unkempt or unprofessional, at least not yet. She knew for a fact that the military never would allow for such a style, and it felt like a bit of rebellion, or maybe a lack of care for what others thought. Both sent a delicious thrill through Emma, even though she had no real confirmation one way or another. Maybe he was just lazy, but that wasn’t how she imagined him…

And oh boy did she imagine him. At first she hadn’t meant to. She just had these flashbacks to seeing him that she carried through the day. These visceral visions always started the same: he would walk by, looking downright delicious and impossible to resist, then he would turn his eyes her way here in the middle of the hospital hustle and bustle. She’d feel caught in his stare, sense the hunger even from the distance, and her heart would quicken to a maddening crescendo as he walked her way. The rest of the world would fade from view, and it would feel like they were the only two people alive. Her gaze would stay transfixed on his almost cocky composure and the hard line of his bearded jaw. The attraction in his blue eyes would light a fire in her, and then, without so much as a word like ‘hello’ or ‘nice to meet you,’ he’d pull her into his embrace and kiss her senseless. She could practically taste him on her tongue, and yet she’d never even heard him speak. People who had, who were later interrogated by Ruby, mentioned that he had an accent. British or Irish, or something along those lines. That tidbit had played oh so sweetly in Emma’s mind this week. God, she’d love to hear him say her name -,

“Emma,” a voice beside her said, but it didn’t pull her out of the fog. “Oh my God, Emma, he’s looking right at you.”

“He’s what?” Emma said, blinking back to reality before finding that Doctor Jones was looking this way. She’d been so busy fantasizing, she stopped paying attention to what was right in front of her.

In the middle of the room, the man who had intrigued her for over a week was standing totally still, disregarding the swarm of people on all sides. His entire attention had shifted from the task ahead of him, and he was looking at her, staring with a blend of intrigue and something Emma couldn’t describe. Doctor Nolan had stopped as well, but he was clearly confused as to the delay. He seemed to ask his friend what was wrong, and Emma watched spell bound, as the lips she’d envisioned kissing her moved in some kind of unheard reply. She couldn’t make out his words, but she shivered at the passion and determination etched across his being. David then looked their way, and Emma knew that Doctor Jones – Killian - had asked about them. No, forget that, he had asked about her. He was looking right at her, and that spark of heat and desire she’d always imagined was nowhere near as tantalizing as the real thing. He was looking at her with the same hunger she’d reserved for her wildest imaginings. Holy crap, what was she going to do?

“Ruby?” she asked, her voice squeaked out in alarm. She tore her gaze from the approaching object of her desire and looked to her best friend with overt confusion and mild panic.

“Took him long enough to spot you. It’s been almost a week. I thought I was going to have to hire a marching band or one of those giant arrow guys they have at outlet malls.”

Emma didn’t understand, and then it dawned on her – her friend had planned this. Emma looked at Mary Margaret, but she was still staring in the distance. Only when Emma followed her gaze did she realize that Mary Margaret wasn’t looking at Killian. She was looking at David.

“Hey, ladies, you looking to order, or what? I ain’t got all day!”

The three of them jumped at the barista’s interruption and Mary Margaret surged ahead to the line. She rattled off an order, giving way too much money to the attendant while grabbing her cup with shaky hands. Then she looked at David and back to Emma with an expression that said Mary Margaret may just bolt. Ok, what the actual hell was going on?

Before she could begin to answer that internal question, Doctor Jones and Doctor Nolan were within ear shot. Emma wracked her brain for something to say when they finally got here, but was spared when David broke the ice.

“Doctor Swan,” he said with a head nod and a polite smile. They knew each other peripherally at this point. Emma had consulted on numerous ER cases since Doctor Nolan started his new position. But she wouldn’t call them friends. They were very much acquaintances. “I heard Earl MacDonald is recovering nicely. He most definitely has you to thank for that.”

“And you too,” she said, offering credit where it was due. “A quick diagnosis makes all the difference. I’ve noticed the ER is filled with them since you started.”

“That’s kind of you. I don’t believe you’ve met my friend, Doctor Jones.”

“Killian,” Doctor Jones said immediately, before offering a heart stopping smile of his own. Emma had yet to see the man smile, and her heart skipped a beat, the rhythm of her pulse skittering in an almost blissful way. “A pleasure to meet you, Swan.”

He offered his hand to her, and Emma took it, shaking in greeting even though it was uncommon for doctors or nursing staff to do so. Chief Mills stressed that germ management was a top priority at Mist Haven, and she’d come as close to banning the practice as was legal in the state of Massachusetts. Usually Emma didn’t mind, but germs were the farthest thing from her radar when their fingers touched. Instead, Emma was filled with the zapping sense of promise and a thrill of warmth that made her head swim.

“Emma,” she whispered. A beat passed between them, and Emma lost herself for too long. Only the clearing of a throat beside them brought her back to the moment. She let go of his hand, but tracked the slight disappointment on his face when she did. It filled her with a rush of something long forgotten. A sense of peace and elation she hadn’t tasted in years. “Um these are my friends, Ruby Lucas and Mary Margaret Blanchard. Ruby’s the head nurse in the cardiac unit. And Mary Margaret runs OT for the surgical division.”

Emma tore her gaze from Killian, watching her friends make their greetings. Ruby handled her own completely, and Mary Margaret seemed to have gathered her courage, but now it was David who looked shocked and spell bound. Everyone appeared to be thrown off kilter, and it was only Ruby in control of herself. To say her friend was positively delighted with these new developments would be an understatement. That glee rang out clear as day in her invite to both the attending doctors.

“So… Doctor Nolan, Doctor Jones, any way we could convince you to join us? The coffee’s just all right, but the company’s not half bad.”

Both men agreed immediately, and Emma fought her hardest not to blush. It was hard though, and her pulse was racing in the face of this development. Killian came to stand by her, the space between them so small but still too much to bear. She tried to get her bearings as the cranky barista handed her a latte. She struggled to think of something – anything – to say, but she was tongue tied. Instead, she looked at Killian, finding an openness in his expression that said he felt the same exact way. That gave her comfort and removed some of the tension from the moment.

“The hospital’s been buzzing since you got here,” Emma offered, waiting with him while he ordered a no nonsense coffee of his own. “A lot of people are hoping you’ll stay on past the month.”

“And you, love? Have you such hopes?” his words were earnest but laced with an almost cocky easiness that sent Emma’s mind humming in delight. Still, she played it cool. At least she hoped she did.

“Jury’s still out,” she replied, smiling when he looked a little crestfallen. “Well can you blame me? I hardly even know you. Still haven’t seen what you’re capable of.”

“Only a matter of time, Swan. You can trust in that.”

His words may seem benign, but they were loaded with hidden meaning, and Emma knew he meant each one. She swallowed harshly, thinking of the things he might be capable of. Damn, was it hot in here? Or was it just the devil on her shoulder spinning another one of those dirty dreams of hers?

When they’d all gotten a coffee, the five of them moved off to the patio just outside, reserved for hospital staff. The grounds were manicured beautifully, maintaining an oasis that seemed totally disconnected from the hectic nature of the hospital. This was one of Emma’s favorite places here, and she was surprised to hear that neither David nor Killian had been here yet. They all spent a few minutes making non-threatening small talk, with mostly Ruby moving the conversations along. But despite the fluttering feeling she was grappling with, Emma couldn’t say she hated this building anticipation. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time she had enjoyed herself so much. She was seated next to Killian, fully aware that all of his attention was devoted to her, and she reveled in it. At one point, while the others were talking about something with the OT department, Killian whispered to her and her alone.

“This might be presumptuous of me, love, but I find I’m helpless to resist. I was wondering – that is, I was hoping that perhaps, you and I, we could…” His eyes looked from hers down to her lips, and Emma wet them absentmindedly. She heard a low growl, and realized it was coming from him. She shifted in her seat, turned on in a way she had never been before. Instinctively she moved closer, sensing the sinfully sweet current between them, like lightning just before it cracked across the summer sky.

“We could…” she continued, hoping he would elaborate and put into words what she herself was wishing for.

“That we could -,”

“Paging all staff to the ER. All staff to the ER for an incoming trauma, category 4.”

This time the PA was most definitely broadcasting a hospital wide announcement, and the irony wasn’t lost on Emma. Ruby looked positively forlorn at the interruption, but it was somewhat poetic after how they’d gotten here.

“Category four,” David repeated, standing immediately, prompting all of them to do the same. “We haven’t had a four since I started. We’re gonna need all hands on deck. Killian?”

“Aye, mate. I’m with you.” He looked back to Emma, and only had time for the swiftest goodbye. “Until next time, love.”

Emma and her friends watched them go, running towards the ER. Belatedly, they realized that if a trauma of that magnitude was coming into the hospital, there were bound to be surgical cases flooding their ward soon enough. They hustled back to their wing, focused once more on their jobs and the lives on the line that they were sworn to help heal and make better. But Emma still carried that moment with her for the rest of the day, and when the shift was over and done, and she’d done all she could to help the people in her care, she was left wondering what exactly Doctor Jones was hoping to ask, and when, oh when, he may try to do so again.

Post-Note: So there we have it. This was originally going to be a oneshot for my CS mixtape series, but alas, the muse wants what she wants, and this time that’s a three part mini-story for all of us to share. Hope that you guys have enjoyed so far and I would love to hear what you think! As always, thanks so much for reading, and I hope you are all staying well in this crazy time! xE

[male-reader]

Are you taking requests? And/Or still taking requests? If you are I would really love to read a Tommy Shelby x FtM Reader fluff where he helps them cope with their dysphoria. Specifically lack of top surgery.

It’s going to be okay.

Tommy Shelby x FtM reader

Note: I know I said that I had problem with writer’s block and probably won’t be posting any writing for a bit, but when this request came in I had to write it since one of the reason I’m currently having a hard time is because of mental health and dysphoria, so it really helped to write this for myself and the request.

Thank you a lot for requesting this, I hope you like it :3

WARNING: chest dysphoria

Please don't bind with bandages, it's very dangerous and can decrease your chances of being able to have top surgery in the future!

The day wasn’t going well for you and you couldn’t wait to return to the comfort of home. You were on foot, too self conscious to talk to strangers and get a ride. Besides, you didn’t have any money with you. You weren’t used to always carrying some like Tommy whose pockets were always full.

Huge relief filled you when you walked through the door, inhaling the smell of Arrow house. It was strange for you to think of it as home. It was difficult convincing yourself that Tommy loved you as much as he said because of your insecurities.

You hung up your coat and cap by the door before continuing farther inside, a smile growing on your features as you spotted the pure white german shepherd trotting toward you. He didn’t have a name yet, but Tommy couldn’t say no to you after you found it barely holding on to life a few days ago.

Your companion followed you upstairs, tail wagging with joy. Tommy liked to keep up his exterior neutral whenever the animal seeked his attention, but you knew that he had a soft spot for him. You caught him petting the animal and speaking to it quietly whenever he thought no one was watching. He mostly speaks to him in Romani which you can’t understand, but you can quess by the soft tone of Tommy’s voice whenever he does it.

You could hear Tommy talking on the phone in his office, risking a peek inside. The door was fortunately well kept and didn’t squeak to reveal your location. You could instantly tell Tommy wasn’t happy.

“Another week? Another fooking week? Yesterday you said that it would be ready by today’s evening!”

You didn’t stay to hear the rest, silently closing the door and sighing. The white shepherd whined next to you and followed you into the bedroom where you looked yourself into the mirror. You liked how you looked in the ‘traditional’ Peaky Blinders attire. The many layers helped to hide your chest completely.

That’s why when undressing each layer you took off made you feel worse and worse. The last thing you had on was something Tommy had specially made for you and you cried when he showed you. You were confused when he took you to see one of his friends and very uncomfortable when said friend took measures of your upper body, but only a few days later he presented you with something that would compress your chest more safely than the bandages would and it was definitely more comfortable.

You wanted to keep it on now, but after the long day of wearing it you felt exhausted and stiff from the ache. You threw a sheet across the mirror before you finished undressing and quickly reached for one of Tommy’s large shirts and underwear.

You loved wearing Tommy’s things, specially when you felt bad about yourself.

You proceeded to curl on the bed you both shared, laying on where Tommy usually sleeps. There were only two rules regarding your new canine companion. One: he’s not allowed into Tommy’s office and Two: he’s not allowed on the bed. Yet still when the dog watched you with its large blue eyes and jumped on the bed to curl up into your arms you couldn’t send him away, specially with how bad you were feeling.

You stayed like that for a while, stuck in your thoughts, overthinking and drowning in self loathing. So much that you didn’t notice Tommy enter the bedroom. He could instantly tell what the problem was. It was the only thing that could get you like this.

“Y/n, why didn’t you come find me?” Tommy sat down on the bed, glancing to the white mass of fluff in your arms with a fond look void of anger and then proceeded to pay attention to you.

“You were on the phone. You were angry and it sounded important…”

You knew it was a lame excuse, given the fact that Tommy explicitly told you countless of times that no matter what he is doing at the time you come to him if you’re feeling bad about anything. Doesn’t matter if he’s on the phone or meeting someone.

“Sorry…” You added weakly and Tommy sighed, brushing his knuckles against your cheek gently. “No apologies.” Tommy murmured and quickly undressed to his underwear, laying behind you so he could wrap his arms around you completely. After all of this time he already learned which places he should avoid to make you most comfortable, so you relaxed after feeling his hands were exactly where you wanted them to be.

“I know you said he’s not allowed on the bed-”

“Shh, from now on there’s only one rule,”

You could feel Tommy’s gentle smile against your neck when he pet the dog’s head, chuckling when his hand was licked. “Have you thought of a name yet?” You thought for a bit before shaking your head. “That’s okay, I’m sure he doesn’t mind.” You laughed at that weakly and buried your face in the soft fur of the large animal. You remembered how thin and dirty he was when you found him.

“I love you so much...you’re the most handsome man I have ever met…” Tommy’s words brought a red flush to your face, specially when he proceeded with pressing soft kisses to your neck and jaw.

“I don’t ever want you to think that you don’t deserve any of this, or that you are an inconvenience to me or anyone in my family. I love you and I would do anything to make you the happiest you can be. Got it?”

You sniffled slightly and turned your head to look at Tommy, exhaling through your nose when he pressed his lips to yours.

It’s going to be okay.

[gofancyninjaworld]

OPM ‘Majin’ Drama CD Reviews.  Part 1 – “Saitama, Makeover”

Summary:  Dunning-Kruger, anyone?

Direct link here.   Fair warning: don’t be drinking anything when you read/listen to it. It is utterly demented, in a good way.

So, Saitama’s minding his own business trying to score the best deal at shopping when a young lady approaches him with a fan letter.  He’s deeply flattered... until it turns out that it’s for Genos.   His disgust at this state of affairs is compounded by Genos tossing out the letter unread.  Genos doesn’t do fan letters as they have nothing useful to say to him. 

Saitama’s mood gets worse when Genos looks him up (at his behest) and the public image of Saitama is less than stellar: “I don’t remember this guy.” “Nothing special.” “Eyes of a dead fish.” And many more less edifying. 

As it’s set between the first and second seasons, neither Saitama nor Genos have hero names yet and this gives them an idea.  Since no one knows who Saitama is,  what’s stopping him from picking a hero name and debuting on his terms?

Well, nothing.  Except that between the two of them, they have less creative nous than an office full of auditors on hour 17 of their 3rd consecutive 18 hour work day.  But since when did they let total incompetence stop them?

They look around at other heroes for ideas, throwing out the idea of handsome (Saitama’s budget being too low for plastic surgery -- ouch, Genos), mascots, and finally settling on cute.  As cats are eternally popular, how about some cat ears.   Saitama immediately procures some and yes, they do attract attention but keep slipping off.  He asks, nay demands, that Genos get him some duct tape to keep them on his head.

It’s at this point that I stopped feeling sorry for Saitama.

As far as costume goes, heroes who have an athletic physique to show off like Tank Top Master and Superalloy Darkshine are very popular.   Saitama has an athletic physique.  So... and this is 100% Saitama’s idea... how about all the physique?  But for his cape,  Saitama strips himself naked,  painting himself in the colours of his uniform.   Genos has grave misgivings. Sadly these misgivings don’t rise to the level of saying ‘no’ and he keeps adding fuel to this fire.

You have got to listen to the section where the pair are workshopping what descriptors to add to Saitama’s introductory speech.  It’s when you realise that a lot of the words are in English and that Genos knows what they all mean, but is tossing them in anyway that the full madness of this segment becomes clear.  ONE is also having a poke at Engrish -- English words tossed in for the ‘coolness’, the equivalent of gratuitous French appearing in English. 

And so is born the ultimate new hero: “The collapse of the final strength gestalt with endless possibilities - The lone wolf Saitama, the boiled egg (Terror! The monster-devouring cat man)”    Yes, that is his new hero name.    All that’s left is to find an actual monster.

 This being City Z, monsters are never far away and one duly appears. The plan is for Genos to take it on, pretend to lose so that Satiama can swoop in, introduce himself with suitable bombast and send the monster to Kingdom come.  Three problems. First, Genos turns out to be an outrageously shitty actor, which quickly turns this showing into farce.  Second,  Saitama has lost his notes and is fumbling around for them rather than acting.  Third, the monster turns out to be actually strong meaning that playing around isn’t actually an option.

And then it starts to rain.  The bodypaint isn’t waterproof. Technically it should be as otherwise it’d run when we sweat,  but I guess that’s Saitama being a Saitama and going with what’s cheapest.  So it is that having finally found his notes, with a horrified crowd and incredulous monster alike watching as paint drips off his bits,  Saitama does his best to read the soggy notes that were supposed to mark his triumphant entry...  heh heh

Meta: Don’t Fake It

Hoo hoo!    I’m sorry, if you’ve still not read it, go read it.  It’s so full of evil, evil zingers and the summary really doesn’t do it justice.

Let us establish that any endeavour that starts with the phrase ‘with the help of Genos...’  is not going to be a good one.  Dude is like a chainsaw with no guards -- all enthusiasm, no safety.

Despite how disastrous this episode in Saitama’s life was, it’s also quite touching for me that he’s human.  He sees the enormous disparity between the way he is treated and the way Genos is and he minds.  Saitama doesn’t want to be rich and famous but being recognised and thought well of is important for him.  It’s the biggest reason he joined the Hero Association in the first place and so far, it’s not been working out for him.   So his grabbing at the chance to set his reputation properly ahead of getting a formal hero name made a lot of sense.  It’s good to see that he gets envious, proud, irritated, can say cruel things in the moment -- he’s a person, a good person, but not a saint.

Authenticity is a theme that ONE comes back to frequently.  Another is competence -- even if you’re competent in one thing, that doesn’t automatically carry over into other fields.  He makes a lot of hay out of the fact that people often over-rate their abilities in areas they know little about.  It’s almost axiomatic in OPM that if you hear someone bragging about an ability they have, they’re all but certain to be shown up.  And when you put inauthentic and incompetent together, well... it’s funny to watch.   So it is that Saitama, who fancied himself a creative, ended up naked in public in the rain.  With bodypaint dripping off him. I’m sorry, the image has been indelible for months.

If you’ve ever wished you were less sensitive, look at Genos and be comforted.  He has a legitimately thick skin and the way he lacerates Saitama with his words while not being in the slightest bit offended at Saitama’s comebacks is the opposite of life goals.  His sharp-eyed notes on the whimsical and superficial nature of public opinion?  Spot on.

Genos refusing to read fan mail on the basis that it’s not informative was an ‘oof’ moment for me. Fans often slam heroes for being too keen on public notice and admiration, but the converse is also painful.  It’s sad to think that if the little girl he saved from the Deep Sea King sent him a thank you letter, he threw it away unread.  It feels like he’s missing half the point of being a hero.   

Speaking of the hero name specifically, the requirements that Saitama had for a hero name are actually satisfied by One Punch Man.  But it’s not an obvious thing to hit on.  All things considered, it’s just as well the Hero Association doesn’t appear to have heard of these antics, or at least not taken them into account when naming him.  Or he’d have been Cat-Eared Baldie.

I can 100% understand why King needed to come into the picture. Between Saitama and Genos, they’re unable to muster even a pin-head’s worth of common sense. In particular, Genos doesn’t seem to be able to say no to Saitama and they just egg each other on.   King brings a much-needed measure of sense checking to their dynamics. 

[corvus--rex]

Another one that's soundly asleep and not abandoned. Non-canon compliant, and all 7 of them are lgbt+ (I also may, possibly, be projecting onto Keith - just a little). And Lance is a they/them enby.

~*~*~*~

Liberating the planet Artrax was the easy part. Eliminating the Galra presence was simple. Voltron’s Paladins had done their job in securing the planet’s freedom. No different from any other occupied planet they’d been to. The Artraxians were holding a celebratory festival both in honor of the Paladins and in anticipation of joining the Voltron Coalition. Not complicated. It wasn’t something they hadn’t done many times before. And while every planet’s traditions and customs were different, they more or less knew what to expect. At least, they thought they knew what to expect. They were apparently wrong about that.

Allura dropped into her usual seat at the head of the dining table with a heavy sigh, the tablet in her hand clattering to the table’s surface. A lack of her usual composure was evident in the way her shoulders slumped, the annoyance and displeasure clear on her face. She sighed again before facing the Paladins.

“I’ve just spoken with Artrax’s leaders. They are going forward with the celebration in our honor and over joining the Coalition,” she said, heavy with exhaustion.

“I’m sensing a ‘but’,” Lance said cautiously.

“The Artraxians have a very rigid society when it comes to gender roles and sexuality. They are also insisting that, as distinguished guests, we are to dress according to their standards. At the very least I got them to agree to modify their fashions to our anatomy. But they will not back down from their views on gender. Not even for us. Alteans may not believe in those strict lines, but they do.”

“And combined with their enhanced sense of smell, especially when it comes to hormones and pheromones, there’s no way we can get around it,” Pidge noted disappointedly.

“Unfortunately. Please know that I would never ask any of you to do something that makes you uncomfortable in that way. But they would consider it a personal insult not to attend, or abide by their customs. And their trade routes are invaluable to the Coalition. I am so sorry.” Allura slumped back into her seat, gaze dropping to the table.

The room was silent for a long minute as they all considered their options and what the Artraxian societal standards meant for them. Three fifths of the Paladins didn’t identify with their assigned genders and none of them, Allura and Coran included, were straight. Hiding their sexual orientations was manageable, their gender identities far less so. Neither Lance nor Pidge in any way liked the idea of being forced into presenting as their assigned genders. After expanding their wardrobes beyond what they had worn into space, there was no telling what Lance would appear in on any given day, while Pidge’s remained as non-gendered as physically possible.

It had only been a few months since Pidge had come out to the team as agender, aromantic, and asexual. “Triple-A Queer” they had called it. They had known for some time before, but their disguise to get into the Galaxy Garrison was important to their self-imposed mission to find Sam and Matt, and so allowed everyone to believe that they were male. Lance, on the other hand, had never made their semi-fluid nonbinary identity a secret. Being bisexual and nonbinary at the Garrison had been an unpleasant experience at times, until the day when Tommy Bailey was harassing them for it again and Hunk simply appeared behind Lance without a sound, glaring. Tommy was too afraid of Hunk after that to try anything again.

While Lance and Pidge – as much as they hated it – could power through the discomfort of dressing to their physical sex, it was a little harder for Keith. He had kept it a secret at the Garrison, Griffin’s homophobia and “teasing” about Keith’s parents was bad enough. The only ones who had known were Shiro, Adam, and Garrison medical staff. He figured his life was hard enough being the gay, orphaned, golden boy without adding his trans status on top of it. His recovery time after top surgery was dismissed (by him) as having been sick, and hormone shots as being for specific, undisclosed allergies. (“Yeah, I’m allergic to being female,” he’d told Shiro with a laugh when they decided that was going to be the “official” story.)

He’d been off hormones since not long after leaving the Garrison, and told the team shortly after settling into the castle. He wanted to, but even if he hadn’t, it was going to show itself sooner or later. He’d rather they were prepared for bitchy, PMS-ing Keith, followed by angry, period Keith. It was not a side of himself he liked anyone seeing, but without access to his hormones, they were going to whether he liked it or not. He had the grace of the gods in that respect. Shiro handled it the same way he always had – from a distance and with care. Pidge was right there with him, commiserating over a bodily function neither of them wanted. Hunk had two moms and a younger sister, so he understood, even if it was from the outside. It was the same for Lance, with both of their sisters, one of whom was their twin, so they’d seen what she went through a little more closely than they’d wanted. Allura and Coran didn’t understand human reproductive cycles, but understood that it was an uncomfortable process, and did what they could.

But all that meant that he was going to be the one out of all of them in the most discomfort. It had been years since he’d had to pretend like he wasn’t in the wrong body, and now he was having to face that all over again. He knew that if they’d had any kind of leeway, Lance and Allura would be there to help him to be as comfortable as possible while stuck in a dress. But they didn’t. They were going to be in a modified version of the planet’s inhabitants’ traditional costume. None of the paladins knew what it looked like, but from how upset Allura was, it couldn’t be good.

Keith decided to rip off the band-aid. “So, what do these outfits look like?” he asked.

Allura played with the tablet she’d brought with her for a moment before turning it on. The images projected over the table were of the Artraxian people modeling their traditional clothing. Their race was in an eternal transitional period between reptilian and avian. Mostly scaled, and more closely resembling their reptile ancestors, they also had patches of brightly colored feathers and slightly wing-like arms with retractable membranes. The feathers that grew along their shoulders, forearms, and thighs were short, and nearly mistakeable for scales if it weren’t for their texture. They also had feathers that grew in a swath from forehead to neck, but these were longer, some trailing down their backs. Artraxian scale colors ranged from pale, leaf green to deep forest, those colors determined by regional origin. Unlike what the paladins would have expected of either reptiles or birds, Artraxians were a live-birth species, and so had some features more like Earth mammals, most notably two close-set rows of three breasts. Six-titted aliens was not what they were expecting. But combined with their long, thick, tapering tails and wing-arms, the paladins could see why their clothes would have to be adapted for human and Altean anatomy.

The clothing itself was as brightly colored as their feathers. It appeared light, soft, and silky, but was wrapped around their bodies like bandages, ultimately not leaving much to the imagination. Some of the wrappings were sheer, showing off the scales beneath. The females wore a two-paneled, A-line skirt over their leg wraps that ran to mid-calf, completely sheer and split at the sides to the waist. Males wore something similar, but slightly shorter and opaque. Both sexes went barefoot, no doubt a necessity due to their sharp claws. All five paladins looked over the projection with varying degrees of curiosity, anxiety, and fear.

“We’ll be providing the Artraxians with our physical measurements from here, and they will send us our…outfits,” Allura said, eyeing the female Artraxian with trepidation.

Keith was sorry he’d asked; he felt sick.

Lance was sitting directly across from him and was the first to notice it. Leaning over the table slightly, they nudged his foot. “You ok?” they asked quietly.

“No.” It was all he could get out before bolting from the room.

Shiro started to get up, but Lance stopped him. “I’ll go. No offense, but I don’t think a cis guy is what he needs right now.”

“Want me to come too?” Pidge asked.

“Maybe in a little bit. I think too many people will be too much for him.”

Pidge nodded at the same time Shiro spoke. “I’m not offended, Lance. You’re the best suited out of all of us to talk to him right now.”

“Thanks, man. I’ll call if I need anyone.”

Lance paused in the hallway, considering the possibilities of where Keith was most likely to be. Training deck? Always a possibility, but it didn’t seem as probable at that moment. He’d been genuinely upset, not just aggravated or frustrated. So not there. Holed up in his bedroom? Maybe, but it felt a little too obvious. The shock of seeing what he was expected to wear had made him bolt, and Lance knew he’d gone to ground. Ok, so not his bedroom either. The castle was not a small place, but there were only a handful of places Keith would go. If not the training deck or his bedroom, he had most probably run for his favorite of the observation decks, and that was where Lance set off for.

Walking the halls of the castle, Lance enjoyed the feeling of the soft fabric of their long skirt and fluffy cropped sweater. They liked the way the silky material flowed around their legs, and how their sweater floated and felt like it was made of clouds. It also made them think about their own coming out process. How their twin sister Rachel was the first person they’d told at age 12. Barely a month before their thirteenth birthday, Lance had taken Rachel on the short walk to the beach, to the spot away from where even the locals stayed. Their favorite place where they went swimming all summer long. Where their older siblings taught them to surf, and where their mother had shown them the constellations and sparked a love of space in Lance.

That’s where they’d gone with Rachel on a hot day in June. Lance remembered standing ankle-deep in the warm, clear water. They couldn’t look at her, too nervous about what she’d say. But looking out over the Atlantic, they’d found the courage they needed, and told Rachel everything. About how they’d been thinking about how they noticed they liked girls ok, but also boys and nonbinary people too, and considered themselves bi. It led them into talking about their own gender. That they didn’t feel much like a boy, but that they felt kinda like a boy sometimes, kinda like a girl sometimes, but mostly felt nonbinary. Lance told her that they felt like gender didn’t matter as much to them, and that while they didn’t feel the need to change their name, their preferred pronouns going forward were they and them.

Rachel had sat on the beach and listened. She thought it over while Lance was talking, and when they were done, she got up without a word, left her flip flops on the sand, and joined her sibling in the water. She crushed them in the tightest hug of their life and told Lance that they were her twin, nothing in the known universe could stop that, and that the absolute most important thing was that they were comfortable in their own skin. If there were a few tears before they left for home, no one needed to know. With Rachel firmly beside them, they told the rest of the immediate family that night, getting almost the same reaction from them as they had from their twin. Their father Diego was only a little more reserved, admitting that he didn’t understand the nonbinary part, but as long as Lance was safe and happy, that was all he cared about. By the time Lance had left Earth, Diego had come to understand what being nonbinary meant and that those five years of expressing themselves freely had been the happiest of Lance’s life.

The memory of that summer day made them smile to themselves as they walked, but also made them miss home and family all over again. With a sharp shake of their head, they remembered what they were coming up to the observation deck for. They knew Keith understood how important this party was, but being forced into that was more than enough to cause that kind of reaction. Ironically, Lance thought, the Artraxian male fashion sense was actually feminine-leaning, non-gendered by human standards and didn’t bother them as much as they thought it would, although it still did upset them. But that was them, not Keith. Especially with what Artraxian women wore, they knew how much it upset Keith. And that was why they were there. Not to try to convince him to wear it, but to be supportive. Let him know that both they and the team had his back with this. That Lance would be there for him however he needed.

Lance knocked on the door, walking in when they didn’t get an answer anyway. Keith was sitting on the floor with his arms wrapped around his knees as he watched the stars. Lance curled up beside him without looking over.

“Hey. It’ll be ok. I know it really, really, sucks, and I wish we didn’t have to do it, but we do. We’re all here for you, you know that right?”

Keith sighed, rolling his head from where it rested on his knees to look over at Lance. “I know you are. Doesn’t make it any easier. I thought I was past all that. Having to pretend to be something I'm not. It’s been hard enough being out here without even the possibility of access to my T shots. And now this. I think I would have been more ok with it if it didn’t look like that.”

“Yeah, I get that. Kinda exposes almost everything. None of us like it, even if I know Allura and Shiro are gonna look amazing in it, but Pidge and Hunk will be really uncomfortable. Hunk doesn’t like going to the beach without a shirt on unless he’s really comfortable with the people around him. And I don’t think I can even imagine Pidge in anything girly, let alone that. And even I’m not really comfortable with it. Way too much skin on display, y’know? I mean, I say this while wearing a crop top, but…” they trailed off with a soft laugh and turned to face Keith. “Really what I’m saying is that we’re all uncomfortable. I know it’s not exactly the same, but you’re not alone. If you need to stay close to one of us for the party to feel safe, it’s ok. No one will mind.”

Lance thought that the soft huffing sound that came from Keith might have been a laugh until they heard the sniffle and realized that he was wiping away tears.

“Thanks, Lance,” Keith said softly.

“Anytime, Samurai.”

It was barely a day after transmitting the team’s measurements to the planet’s surface before an unmanned shuttle landed onboard the castle. They realized that color preferences hadn’t been asked of them, and that their “outfits” were all individually wrapped in black tissue and labelled with their names. Coran busied himself with handing out the packages and sent Allura and the paladins off to change.

“Hey, Lance?” Keith called quietly.

They turned to him and immediately saw the discomfort and anxiety all over his face. “Hey, it’s ok. What do you need?”

“I think I need to call in that favor.”

“Ok. Would having Allura there help?”

Keith thought for a few seconds. “…Yeah, I think so.”

Lance turned to where the princess was making her way across the pod bay floor. “Allura, I have a question for you.”

She stopped and waited for both of them to catch up with her. “Yes? What is it?”

Lance looked to Keith first for his silent confirmation before continuing. “Keith’s gonna need some help with this. I figured you being the only girl here would help with making him as comfortable as we can.”

“Oh, yes, of course. Allow me to change and then we can meet.”

“My room?” Lance suggested.

~*~*~*~

Links to the rest of the series:

1 | 2 | 3* | 4 | 5* | 6* | 7 | 8 | 9* | 10 | 11 | 12* | 13 | 14 | 15* | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19*

[soufflesstuff]

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[cozywritings]

Stitches 11: I’ll Be Good

It’s Shawn’s 22nd birthday, so here's a new update on our lovebirds.

-----------

“He asked you to what!” Emily screamed, causing everyone in the ice cream parlor to look at you two. You decided to tell her about your exciting new housing plans for next year, so you could offer that she request your current dorm room, that way she had a room to herself. She was like you in the sense of preferred privacy.

You blushed as you repeated your previous statement. “He asked me to live with him. And I said, yes.” Your cheeks turning an even brighter pink at the confession. “I already told mom and dad, and they’re not too sure about it. However, I think it’s because they haven’t met Shawn yet, but we’d be splitting costs. I pay for food and the utilities and he’s got rent. Plus, we get to sleep in a queen sized bed every night and have our own kitchen and laundry room, and oh god I can’t wait honestly.”

She just looked at you, your eyes bright and cheeks flushed, a glow to your skin that wasn’t coming from the neon lights in the shop or the new highlighter you’d purchased a few days ago. “I’m so happy for you, I know this will be good for you. Both of you, and I can’t wait to see what you do with your place.”

You smiled at her, taking a bite of your edible cookie dough and dancing to the music. “Mom and dad are coming in from Austin in a few days to see the place and meet Shawn, and I’m so nervous Em. What should I do?” She pursed her lips as she thought, her hazel eyes trained on the jukebox.

“I think you should take them to lunch at Mel's in town and then down to the place to see it. Then you have 3 days to shop and they can see how Shawn is with you, that’ll be a good meeting.” You nodded, making a mental note to tell Shawn about it the plan. “Plus, if Shawn really wants to impress them, they can see what he’s like under stress, so having them there while you start to move stuff in would be ideal.” She had a very good point.

The rest of the afternoon you continued on talking about the new semester and how Emily was going to ask to move into your dorm room in a few weeks because she didn’t need to go home for the summer, considering her family lived in L.A which was only half an hour from campus. You were grateful for her help on how to have a great first meeting.

-----

You tapped your foot nervously on the sidewalk, Shawn standing next to you as you waited for your parents to meet you outside the airport. “Baby relax” He stated, rubbing your shoulders and pressing a kiss to your head “Everything’s gonna go fine, and besides, I’m the one who should be nervous and I’m as calm as ever. Take a breather honey.” He smiled, watching as you took a deep breath and relaxed.

Letting out a sigh, you leaned back against his chest, smiling as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders. “I just want them to love you as much as I do.” He squeezed you tightly before leaning down to kiss you.

“I do too love, but stressing about it isn’t going to help. Besides, I’m pretty sure that’s your mom right there, staring at us.” You looked over to where he was pointing at the doors, and in fact, your mom was standing there. She was smiling at the two of you while your dad crossed his arms in an attempt to look intimidating.

You broke out into a smile. “Mom! Dad!” You shouted, breaking out of Shawn’s hold to run towards your parents, arms outstretched for the hugs they were waiting for.

“We’ve missed you sweetheart” your dad said, rubbing your back as you pulled away. You smiled at them before remembering that Shawn was still waiting for you to return, but you hadn’t seen your parents in almost a year aside from facetime calls.

“I missed you guys too, it's so weird not seeing you guys all the time.” As you spoke, you walked them to your boyfriend, who was waiting patiently for you to have your time with your parents. “Mom, Dad, this is Shawn. My boyfriend and uh, who I’ll be living with for senior year.” You smiled, motioning to Shawn who had a hand held out. Now he looked nervous, and you laughed at the quick change of attitudes.

His hands shook at he waited for your dad to take his hand. “Hey, I’m Shawn. It’s good to finally meet you, sir.” He said as your dad shook his hand, your mom giving him a quick hug. “So uh, we thought that we’d take you to lunch at Mel’s and then to see the place we chose. Then we’d leave you two to check into your hotel and get some rest, or explore the city.” You watched as he spoke, rubbing his hands on his jeans and scratching the back of his neck.

Coming to his rescue, you grabbed his hand, placing a kiss to the swallow tattoo you loved. “So mom, I was thinking that tomorrow we could do some decor shopping! There’s this little place I found near campus that sells some cute stuff and dad can go to that golf course he’s been talking about.” Shawn mouthed a “thank you” before walking the four of you to his jeep and staring the route to the diner for lunch.

---

“So” you start, looking at your parents as you pull into the driveway of the little two bedroom house you and Shawn had just signed on. “This is it! I know it’s really small but really it’s so perfect. It’s two bedrooms with a laundry room in the garage and the kitchen and floors were just redone!” Shawn watched as you animatedly talked about the house, loving the way your eyes lit up as you spoke. “Do you wanna go see the inside?” you asked, practically bouncing with excitement in your seat.

Your mom nodded, already tearing up at the fact that you had found someone who loved you and you trusted enough to live with during the most important year of your college career. “We’d love to baby, I’m sure it’s beautiful.” Your dad agreed, mentally planning the list of things you’d need for the small yard that you had.

Walking into the house, you let out a happy sigh. The white walls and wood floor made it look bigger than it really was and the new kitchen looked beautiful with the gray cabinets and blue backsplash. “Oh honey, this is beautiful. You two did such a good job with picking this. I really love the backplash!” Your mom smiled looking around the living area.

“Actually, Shawn picked it. He had already signed on it and everything before asking me. This was all him.” Both of your parents looked at him, shocked that he’d done this himself before letting you show them the bedroom and the rest of the little place. “This is our room, I was thinking a queen bed suit so there’s more room.”

Shawn came up behind you, hands on your shoulders before adding “I was thinking more room for your vanity, honey. Or one of those clothes racks for your extra stuff.”  Your mom watched the two of you exchange ideas for the room while your dad took measurements for the furniture.

“Sir, can I talk to you outside a moment?” Shawn asked your dad, nodding towards the back porch that had an old iron table and chairs on it that your mom was already talking about repainting. He nodded, following Shawn to the backyard and closing the door.

You and your mom exchanged looks. “What do you think he’s talking to him about?” She asked, watching them carefully. They both stood with their backs to the house, and you took a moment to watch the way his shirt strained against his broad back. You haven’t seen your parents in 12 months and you were already ready for them to go to their hotel so you could have Shawn on the kitchen counter.

You shrugged, “Shawn was talking about how the landlord said we could install a sprinkler system the other day, maybe yard stuff since dad is so good at that. I have no idea why they look so serious.” you hummed, turning to look at the kitchen. “I was thinking we could go to Rodeo Dr. and do some clothes shopping later, it’s time to donate the closet and get a new one. What do you say mom?” you asked and she nodded. You two made a deal, since scholarships paid for your tuition and books, you would use the college account to shop.

Ten minutes later Shawn and your dad came back in, you and your mom had already decided that you needed to get some blackout curtains for the bedroom to help with the brightness. Shawn had the biggest smile on his face and you wanted to know why. “Hey baby, we were gonna go get some things for the yard. Do you want us to drop you two off at the strip to go shopping?”

Before you could answer, your mom was already grabbing her purse. “Oh that’s a wonderful idea, we were just talking about going shopping to update our wardrobes!” And with that you were pulled to the car, your dad having an odd look on his face.

---

Now settled into your own hotel room you’d been in for the week, since you had already moved out of the dorms and you didn't have furniture yet, you decided to ask Shawn about earlier. “Hey honey?” your voice soft, unsure of how to ask.

He let out a hum, looking up from his Pediatric Surgery and O.R. Protocol book. “What’s up babe?”

You were currently hanging the clothes you and your mom bought earlier in the day on the back of the bathroom door so the steam from the shower you were about to take would smooth any wrinkles. “What were you and dad talking about in the backyard today?”

His eyes widened, and you noticed the way he looked over to your left hand before smiling. “Just some yard stuff and some future things with the house. I think he likes me.”

That was all you got before he walked over and pressed a kiss to your shoulder, pulling the strap of your tank top down. “Baby, I’m so stressed about this move. I’m really not in the mood.” You sighed, letting out a moan when you felt him leave a trail of hot kissing along your tight shoulders. He nodded, stopping and pulling you into a hug. “Can I at least join you in your shower? Wanna wash your hair for you, rub your shoulders. Just wanna love on my girl.”

You really weren’t in the mood, but there was something about the way he said “my girl” that had you letting him strip you of your top and shorts so he could turn on the water.

Stepping in after Shawn, you saw him squeezing your shampoo into the palm of his hand. You turned around so he could wash your hair and let out a sigh at the feeling of his fingers massaging your head. “Well I don’t know about dad, but mom absolutely adores you. She would not stop talking about you while we were shopping. She’s already planning a trip for us to come home so you can meet my whole family.” You laughed and rinsed out your hair before he applied your conditioner.

“Well, your mom is an amazing woman. When you were talking to the associate at Coach, she told me she’d never seen you so happy. It made me feel really good.” As he spoke, he gently scrubbed you with your body wash, taking time to rub your shoulders. He knew walking and carrying all your stuff tensed you up. “And your dad told me if I hurt you he wouldn’t hesitate to personally castrate me.”

You laughed, “That sounds like dad. But he means no harm.” you reassured him, turning to place a kiss to his chest. “Want me to wash your hair too bub?” his eyes widened, and he nodded, dropping to his knees so you could pour the shampoo directly onto his head.

As you washed those perfect curls, he pressed kisses to your hips. Not trying to do anything other than relax you. “So, room service for dinner and Grey’s Anatomy?” he asked as you rinsed his hair for him.

“I don’t think there’s anything else I’d rather do.” he smiled, standing up and pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was wet and hot, and you let out a moan when one hand came up to cup your neck gently. “Babe, be careful. I don’t wanna start something I don’t have the energy to finish.”

He smiled against your lips, “I can finish it for you honey. Wanna make you feel good.” but you shook your head and he nodded. He placed one final kiss to your lips and pulled away. “Okay my love, I’ll go order dinner so you can shave. Shrimp Alfredo and Stella Rosa?” he asked, referring to your dinner order. You nodded, grabbing his hand and squeezing gently before he left to call the kitchen.

---

“Hey babe, should we get a leather couch or a cloth one?” You asked, getting Shawn to pull his attention away from the array of coffee tables. You were currently choosing your living room furniture and your dad insisted on new items. So here you were, an hour into your search.

“They both have pros and cons.” Your mom added, running a hand along a soft brown couch. She knew a lot about purchasing new furniture, considering one of her companies was a furniture store, your father, however, gave you his credit card and left for the golf course.

Shawn let out a groan, his brain tired from all the choices and his stomach grumbling. “Baby I don’t know. You’re gonna be the one resting the most there because over half of your classes are online. You chose whatever one you want, I’m sure I’ll love it. As long as it’s gray or black.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead before answering his phone that had began ringing. “Hey mom, what’s up?”

He talked to his mom a few minutes alone before walking back to the two of you, rubbing your back gently. “Hey honey, mom wants to FaceTime, she has some input on the furniture. Is that okay?” You nodded, motioning your mom to come over to join the two of you.

“Hey loves!” Karen smiled, waving at everyone and blowing kisses. You smiled at her, blowing  a kiss and leaning against Shawn. You hadn’t officially met Shawn’s parents in person yet, but you’d met them over FaceTime and a Skype call over spring break to thank her for the hotel room. They seemed to like you, according to what Shawn said when he got back from him trip home.

“Hey K! This is my mom, she’s helping us shop while dad is out golfing. But we could use some help deciding. And I figured a retailer’s opinion would really help.” She smiled at you, knowing you were nervous about choosing.

She went through the list of pros and cons of the couch options, adding in that there also needs to be a chair to match. “But if you’re gonna be home doing studies, I’d suggest a comfy cloth couch because you’ll get hot on a leather one. However, I also know Shawn’s habit of eating every meal on the couch.” Her eyes trained on him and you laughed, “so maybe an easy to clean option would be best.”

“Thanks mom. I think that’s what we’ll do.” Shawn handed you the phone so you could say your goodbyes, his face red at his mom’s accusation.

“Thanks again Karen.” You waved, sending her a smile and a kiss.

“It’s no problem love, and it was nice to meet you too!” She smiled at your mom and they exchanged goodbyes and cell phone numbers,and a few words before the call ended.

“She’s a lovely woman, just like her son.” Your mom whispered to you as you handed Shawn’s phone back. “I’d love to meet her for real one day.” She said, insinuating that she was already mentally preparing for a wedding.

You walked around another hour before deciding on and buying a living room set and having them deliver it to the house. You had already bought a bedroom set that morning, and now just needed kitchen things so you could sleep in the house tonight and be able to eat.

---

Walking into the house, you let in the delivery guys, instructing them where to place everything and thanking them for all their hard work. “Would you guys like some water before you go?? We’ve bought plenty.” You offered, pointing to the case of water bottles on the counter. They all took one, thanking you before heading back out to their trucks and leaving.

“So baby, this is our home for the next year.” Shawn sighed, placing the bag of bedding on the couch and wrapping his arms around your waist. Your parents had already gone back to their hotel, your mom saying something about dinner reservations.

“It’s perfect, I love it so much. I love you so much. I was gonna see if mom and dad wanted to come see after dinner, but I’d much rather just relax. Maybe christen the new house?” He let out a low moan into your hair, hugging you tighter before whispering to you,

“The faster we can get the sheets on the bed, the faster we can get underneath them.” So without another word, you raced off to the bedroom, giggling in excitement and happiness of how things were turning out for the two of you.

There was nothing better than laying in bed with Shawn’s arms around you, except doing so in your own home. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” He asked, bringing you out of your post sex daze.

You blinked a few times, rolling over and laying on top of him. “Just thinking about how much I love you, and how excited I am to make this place ours.” He smiled down at you, watching you blink slowly in thought. He knew this was a huge thing for you, and one reason he did all of this was because he had a plan in place and he wanted to make it as seamless as possible. But also he knew that you’d been having a tough time, and found this specific place so he could turn the spare room into a designing studio and your own safe space.

---

It’s been a week since you moved into the house. A week of figuring things out, learning when the other actually showers, and learning that Shawn actually eats very healthy, despite all the takeout he ordered when you lived in the dorms. Everything has been unpacked and placed in the right spot, a laundry schedule had been established, and you’d even been able to get your own makeup station set up in the empty corner of the bedroom. The spare room was currently being used to hold everything that didn’t have a place yet, but would soon be turned into your safe space. Shawn told you about his little surprise when you walked in on him talking to Cheryl and Emily about ways to decorate the room for you

Tonight was your housewarming party and you were a running mess trying to get everything ready on time. “Hey baby, do you want to go take a shower? I’ve got everything ready, and you look like you could use a few minutes to yourself.” Shawn smiled sympathetically at you, placing the final package of solo cups on the counter. “I’ve got it from here, you should relax for a while. You’re stressing too much.”

As he spoke, he walked around and handed you a glass of water and some pain killers for your head and back. “You’re the best.” You whispered, closing your eyes and swallowing the pills. “I’d love to take a shower and maybe even get in a nap before they get here.” He nodded, kissing your forehead and gently scratching your back, which earned a kiss to this collar bone and asatisfied hum from you.

“I think that’s a perfect idea. I’m gonna mow the lawn really quickly and then I’ll shower and might even join you in bed. We’ve still got-“ he stopped and looked down at his watch. “Three hours before they get here. So we’ve got plenty of time to relax.” You leaned up and pressed a kiss to his chin, humming your approval of the idea, then walked off to shower. Stripping off your top as you walked to the bedroom, you heard Shawn let out a low groan.

---

You were almost asleep when Shawn walked into the bedroom, chest exposed and sweaty. Those curls you loved were plastered to his neck and forehead. “I didn’t mean to wake you baby, I’m gonna get in the shower and then join you. Try to stay awake for me?” You nodded sleepily, debating if you should tell him you’re naked under the sheets, but decided to let him find out for himself.

“I’ll be out in a few minutes.” He mumbled before closing the door and starting the shower. To keep yourself awake, you opted for turning on the tv. When you moved in, both tv’s came with you, yours went into the living room because it was larger, and Shawn’s got placed in your room. So at least you already knew how to work it, and there wasn’t that trial period like when you get new things.

In the time it took you to pick a movie, Shawn had already showered, gotten dressed, meaning he put on some boxers, and walked back into the bedroom. “What are we watching sweetness?” His voice soft just in case you’d fallen back asleep.

“Killers, it’s an Ashton Kutcher movie where he’s a spy. I loved it when I was in high school.” You watched as he picked up the laundry and put it in the basket before walking back over to the bed and pulling back the covers.

The look on his face was absolutely priceless when he saw your bare skin. “Fuck, babe you can’t just not warn me that you’re naked.” he groaned and you shrugged, patting the mattress next to you.

“I was too lazy to get dressed after my shower. Come cuddle with me, Dr. Mendes.” He moaned at the name, loving when you called him that. Even though he hasn’t yet started his shadowing at the hospital, you had been calling him that for about a month now. He always had a good reaction to it.

“How am I supposed to say no to that?” He smirked, crawling next to you and letting you mold yourself to his body. “I set an alarm for 5:00. That gives you an hour to get ready.” He spoke into your hair, fingers dancing across your back.

Letting out a content sigh you spoke softly. You mumbled a quiet “okay” into his chest before drifting off into your well deserved nap.

---

The party has been going on for a few hours now and everything has been going amazing. Everyone loved the house, especially Brian, since he helped Shawn and encouraged him to ask you to live with him. Everything was perfect, until the last few guests arrived. In all honesty, it was a complete and honest mistake of simply not knowing, but the second you heard your front door open and looked up to see who it was, your smile and heart dropped.

At first it was just Cole, another med student that was shadowing with Shawn at the hospital, then behind him was Josh. He looked around, as if he truely didn’t know who’s house he was at, until his eyes landed on the photo of you and Shawn at Disneyland, you had all the photos printed and placed in a photo album. His eyes went wide, then even larger when they landed on you before he gave you a smirk.

“I’ll be right back Rudy, I need to go find Shawn. Um, an unwanted guest just got here.” Your voice shook like your hands. He knew where you lived now, and that scared you, even more so since his advances after Christmas break. You just knew he’d try to pull something while Shawn was at the hospital.

Noticing your panic, Rudy placed a hand on your shoulder. “Hey, you okay? Who’s here? You should sit down, you look like you’re gonna pass out.” He waved over Brian, handing you a plate of nachos to eat. “Dude, I don’t know what’s going on but someone is here and it’s causing a panic attack. Can you go get Shawn?” He asked and Brian nodded, moving quickly to go find his best friend while Rudy sat next to you and pulled you into his side for comfort.

“Hey, can you point to who it is?” His voice soft. You pointed to Josh who was staring at you, a smirk on his face at how he was affecting you. Rudy turned to look at him and almost growled, anger boiling in his chest to see his friend so upset. “Why the fuck is he here?”

Tears were now sliding down your cheeks, as you shrugged. “He came in with Cole. I don’t think he knew about Josh, because he wouldn’t do that on purpose.” You sobbed, shoulders shaking as you tried to calm down the panic attack.

“Okay, here’s Shawn. I’m gonna go talk to Cole. Just remember to breathe hun, you’re safe. Your boys got you.” Brian announced after coming back, you let out a soft chuckle when he winked at you, tossing the plate of food onto the coffee table and reaching out for Shawn.

He was already on defense mode, body rigid and jaw set. “Baby, Hey what’s wrong? Brian said you’re not doing well. Breathe for me okay, you’re alright, you’re right here with me.” He stopped to look up at Brian and Cole who’d walked up, an extremely sympathetic look on his face.

“Let’s go talk in our room okay? I wanna get her out of this crowd so she can breathe.” They all nodded, filing into your room, Rudy, Brian and Cole all looking at you with worried looks.

Sitting on your bed, you were already starting to calm down. That’s when Cole spoke up. “I’m so fucking sorry, I didn’t know you two had a bad history. I didn’t think to tell him whose house it was or even ask you guys if I could bring a friend. Oh shit I feel so terrible. He’s in my British Lit. class and I had no fucking idea. When Brian told me I wanted to puke.” He was babbling, his own panic setting in.

You reached out and grabbed his shaking hands with yours. “It’s okay, you didn’t know. But is there any way you can get him to leave?” He nodded quickly, telling you that he’d take him home immediately.

That’s when Shawn decided to butt in. “Wait. Who’s here, Cole who did you bring?” He asked, kissing the top of your head and keeping track of your pulse.

The boy bit his lip, looking at how your makeup was ruined and like he wanted to cry. “I brought Josh. I swear man, I didn’t know. You know I’d never do that to you guys.” You rubbed his arm and closed your eyes as you began you relax.

Shawn instantly tensed, his jaw tight and eyes hard. “Baby, Shawn, Hey, look I’m okay now. Cole’s gonna take him home and come back.” You looked over at Cole as a silent plea he’d come back and he nodded. “Problem solved. I promise I’m okay now. You’re here with me, I’ve got the guys too. And Em and the girls are here as well.”

But it was no use, Shawn was already walking out of the bedroom and making a beeline to the back porch where Josh was playing with the lights hanging overhead. You ran after him, but it was no use, he was on a mission. “I’d suggest you leave before this gets ugly.” Shawn seethed, pointing towards the back gate.

“What are you gonna do about it Mendes? Why don’t you go back to your pathetic girlfriend, what’s she crying about in there anyways? I’d love to see what else I can make her d-“ before he could finish, Shawn had pushed him into the table, both Josh and the glass top hitting the concrete. He was quick to get up. “Son of a bitch!” He yelled, lunging at Shawn and knocking him into the brick wall. You let out a scream, tears running down your face at the fight before you.

Rudy held you, hiding your face in his chest while Brian and Cole went in, grabbing Josh and throwing him onto the ground before securing his hands and forcing him into the car. “Hey, we’ll be back to check on everything later. Make sure they’re okay?” Rudy nodded, ushering the party goers out of the house with an apology.

The second he let go of you, you darted towards Shawn, who was leaning against the side of the house, head leaned back onto the bricks as he chest heaved. “Shawn!” You cried, falling into him and the two of you slid to the ground.

“Shhhh baby I’m okay. Just hit my head and my back scraped against the house, I’m not severely hurt, I promise. Just wanna sit here for a few minutes.” His hands came up to cradle you to his chest as you listened to his rapid heart beat. “We’re safe. I’ll call Monday morning and get a security system put in.” You let out a little chuckle, Shawn was just in a fight, he could have a concussion, and his first thought was making sure you were safe in the house.

You looked up at Rudy, who was currently sweeping up the broken glass. “You don’t have to do that. I’ll clean it up in the morning. Can you just do me a favor and bring me the first aid kit from our bathroom?” you asked, lookimg at the scrapes on Shawn’s face.

“Of course, I’ll be right back. Do you want something to drink?” you looked at Shawn who shook his head. He came back a few minures later with the kit and a couch pillow for you to place behond Shawn’s head.

“Thank you.” You whispered to them from your place on the concrete. You two had yet to get up, Shawn claiming he needed a minute and your body was drained of all energy. “Do you think you can help me get him into the bedroom, I can clean him up. But he’s too big for me to carry alone.”

He nodded, helping Shawn off the ground as the boys came back, Cole handed you some flowers and you smiled at him.  “I’m so sorry guys, if I’d known-“ Cole started but you but him off, hugging him gently.

“You didn’t know, and you did the best thing by getting him out of here and coming back to help. Thank you too.” you said, looking between Brian and Rudy, who were standing in the doorway, they’d taken Shawn to the bedrom so he could lay down. “You guys were a huge help tonight with me and Shawn. We’d like to invite you guys over for dinner tomorrow as a thank you. Please?”

There was a chorus of “of course”s before Cole added, “I’m gonna clean up the house okay? You two get taken care of and I’ll let myself out when I’m done. I promise I’ll lock the door on my way out.” You thanked them all again before making your way to the bedroom, closing the door and looking back at Shawn.

“Hey there fighter, how about a bath? I think we could both benefit from one.” your voice was soft as you spoke, walking over to sit next Shawn on your bed.

He nodded, reaching out for you. “I’d love nothing more. Just wanna hold my girl. You doing okay? Your meds are in the kitchen if you need them.”

You shook your head, unbuttoning his shirt and slipping it off his shoulders carefully. “I’m alright bubs, let me take care of you okay? I know that’s hard for you since you’re the med student here, but your back is scraped up pretty bad and I’d like to check your head.” As you spoke, you slipped out of your sundress and settled back on Shawn’s thighs.

He took a few minutes with his head on your chest, listening to your still erratic heartbeat and leaving hot kisses on your collar bones. “Okay babygirl, I’d really like that bath now, my body hurts so bad.” His lips moved against your skin and you got up, walking into the bathroom to start the bath and dump in the Epsom salts.

“I’d like to rinse you off before I get in. Please? It’ll make me feel better.” You whispered, taking a washcloth and dipping it into the tub. He nodded, toeing off his socks and settling into the tub, hissing at the water on his raw skin. “If it hurts just tell me. I’ll be gentle.” You warned, dabbing the cloth across his back and shoulders where they’d come in contact with the bricks. He let out a low whine and you wanted to cry.

There was a few minutes of silence before you leaned over and turned on a soft playlist. “You gonna join me baby?” Shawn asked, holding is hand out to you and smiling. You couldn’t say no, he looked so tired and handsome. You honestly didn’t know if you wanted to cuddle him or fuck him.

The water was still warm as you stepped in, settling into the water and leaning back against Shawn’s chest. “You scared me tonight baby.” He mumbled, his fingers trailing along your sides. “When I walked over to you with Rudy I thought you were gonna hit the floor. You weren’t breathing well and you were so pale. Then the look on your face when you came outside. Oh god, I never meant to get that violent, or violent at all. But he was just so-“ He stopped when  you turned around and straddled him.

“I scared you? Shawn I thought I was going to find you unconscious on the porch. Panic attack be damned, I’m glad you’re okay. He’s probably not gonna bother us again after all of that. Are you sure you’re okay?” You asked, eyes darting around his face and chest in fear. “I don’t mind taking you to minor emergency.”

You took a breath when Shawn places his hand on your cheek. “I’m fine, you’re okay. Can you please kiss me?” You didn’t need him to ask twice. Leaning forward you wrapped your arms carefully around his neck and kissed him. It was hot and wet and despite the situation, one of the sexiest kisses the two of you have ever shared.

He moaned against your lips, fingers digging into your hips and pulling you closer. “Baby, fuck me” he groaned, lips trailing down your neck. “Please. I need you. Wanna feel close to you.” His voice strained and you moaned, feeling him press into your neck and lick down your throat. It took you a minute, but you positioned yourself over him before sinking down on him slowly. The two of you let out a sigh, taking a second to adjust.

——

“I love you so much” Shawn whispered, your head on his chest, hair still damp. The two of you decided getting dressed after your bath was pointless, so you curled up under the sheets and let your hair drip onto the pillow.

You looked up at him, still in a post sex daze from a second round after getting into bed. “I love you too bub.” You smiled at him, your hand coming up to rest on his cheek. “You’re so pretty.” You mumbled, blinking slowly.

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your palm. “So are you. You’re also very tired. Let’s get some sleep, okay? Tomorrow we’ve gotta cook for the guys.” He reminded you and you nodded, laying your head back on his chest.

His fingers gently ran across your back, pulling you to sleep and easing your muscles. Even after a rough night, you always had Shawn. And Shawn knew he had you, and you didn’t want life to be any other way.

[arcticdementor]

Oscar Wilde supposedly said George Bernard Shaw "has no enemies, but is intensely disliked by his friends". Socialist blogger Freddie DeBoer is the opposite: few allies, but deeply respected by his enemies. I disagree with him about everything, so naturally I am a big fan of his work - which meant I was happy to read his latest book, The Cult Of Smart.

DeBoer starts with the standard narrative of The Failing State Of American Education. Students aren't learning. The country is falling behind. Only tough no-excuses policies, standardization, and innovative reforms like charter schools can save it, as shown by their stellar performance improving test scores and graduation rates.

He argues that every word of it is a lie. American education isn't getting worse by absolute standards: students match or outperform their peers from 20 or 50 years ago. It's not getting worse by international standards: America's PISA rankings are mediocre, but the country has always scored near the bottom of international rankings, even back in the 50s and 60s when we were kicking Soviet ass and landing men on the moon. Race and gender gaps are stable or decreasing. American education is doing much as it's always done - about as well as possible, given the crushing poverty, single parent-families, violence, and racism holding back the kids it's charged with shepherding to adulthood.

…

For decades, politicians of both parties have thought of education as "the great leveller" and the key to solving poverty. If people are stuck in boring McJobs, it's because they're not well-educated enough to be surgeons and rocket scientists. Give them the education they need, and they can join the knowledge economy and rise into the upper-middle class. For lack of any better politically-palatable way to solve poverty, this has kind of become a totem: get better schools, and all those unemployed Appalachian coal miners can move to Silicon Valley and start tech companies. But you can't do that. Not everyone is intellectually capable of doing a high-paying knowledge economy job. Schools can change your intellectual potential a limited amount. Ending child hunger, removing lead from the environment, and similar humanitarian programs can do a little more, but only a little. In the end, a lot of people aren't going to make it.

So what can you do? DeBoer doesn't think there's an answer within the existing system. Instead, we need to dismantle meritocracy.

DeBoer is skeptical of "equality of opportunity". Even if you solve racism, sexism, poverty, and many other things that DeBoer repeatedly reminds us have not been solved, you'll just get people succeeding or failing based on natural talent. DeBoer agrees conservatives can be satisfied with this, but thinks leftists shouldn't be. Natural talent is just as unearned as class, race, or any other unfair advantage.

One one level, the titular Cult Of Smart is just the belief that enough education can solve any problem. But more fundamentally it's also the troubling belief that after we jettison unfair theories of superiority based on skin color, sex, and whatever else, we're finally left with what really determines your value as a human being - how smart you are. DeBoer recalls hearing an immigrant mother proudly describe her older kid's achievements in math, science, etc, "and then her younger son ran by, and she said, offhand, 'This one, he is maybe not so smart.'" DeBoer was originally shocked to hear someone describe her own son that way, then realized that he wouldn't have thought twice if she'd dismissed him as unathletic, or bad at music. Intelligence is considered such a basic measure of human worth that to dismiss someone as unintelligent seems like consigning them into the outer darkness. So DeBoer describes how early readers of his book were scandalized by the insistence on genetic differences in intelligence - isn't this denying the equality of Man, declaring some people inherently superior to others? Only if you conflate intelligence with worth, which DeBoer argues our society does constantly. It starts with parents buying Baby Einstein tapes and trying to send their kids to the best preschool, continues through the "meat grinder" of the college admissions process when everyone knows that whoever gets into Harvard is better than whoever gets into State U, and continues when the meritocracy rewards the straight-A Harvard student with a high-paying powerful job and the high school dropout with drudgery or unemployment. Even the phrase "high school dropout" has an aura of personal failure about it, in a way totally absent from "kid who always lost at Little League".

DeBoer isn't convinced this is an honest mistake. He draws attention to a sort of meta-class-war - a war among class warriors over whether the true enemy is the top 1% (this is the majority position) or the top 20% (this is DeBoer's position; if you've read Staying Classy, you'll immediately recognize this disagreement as the same one that divided the Church and UR models of class). The 1% are the Buffetts and Bezoses of the world; the 20% are the "managerial" class of well-off urban professionals, bureaucrats, creative types, and other mandarins. Opposition to the 20% is usually right-coded; describe them as "woke coastal elites who dominate academia and the media", and the Trump campaign ad almost writes itself. But some Marxists flirt with it too; the book references Elizabeth Currid-Halkett's Theory Of The Aspirational Class, and you can hear echoes of this every time Twitter socialists criticize "Vox liberals" or something. Access to the 20% is gated by college degree, and their legitimizing myth is that their education makes them more qualified and humane than the rest of us. DeBoer thinks the deification of school-achievement-compatible intelligence as highest good serves their class interest; "equality of opportunity" means we should ignore all other human distinctions in favor of the one that our ruling class happens to excel at.

So maybe equality of opportunity is a stupid goal. DeBoer argues for equality of results. This is a pretty extreme demand, but he's a Marxist and he means what he says. He wants a world where smart people and dull people have equally comfortable lives, and where intelligence can take its rightful place as one of many virtues which are nice to have but not the sole measure of your worth.

…

I'm Freddie's ideological enemy, which means I have to respect him. And there's a lot to like about this book. I think its two major theses - that intelligence is mostly innate, and that this is incompatible with equating it to human value - are true, important, and poorly appreciated by the general population. I tried to make a somewhat similar argument in my Parable Of The Talents, which DeBoer graciously quotes in his introduction. Some of the book's peripheral theses - that a lot of education science is based on fraud, that US schools are not declining in quality, etc - are also true, fascinating, and worth spreading. Overall, I think this book does more good than harm.

It's also rambling, self-contradictory in places, and contains a lot of arguments I think are misguided or bizarre.

…

At the time, I noted that meritocracy has nothing to do with this. The intuition behind meritocracy is: if your life depends on a difficult surgery, would you prefer the hospital hire a surgeon who aced medical school, or a surgeon who had to complete remedial training to barely scrape by with a C-? If you prefer the former, you’re a meritocrat with respect to surgeons. Generalize a little, and you have the argument for being a meritocrat everywhere else.

The above does away with any notions of "desert", but I worry it's still accepting too many of DeBoer's assumptions. A better description might be: Your life depends on a difficult surgery. You can hire whatever surgeon you want to perform it. You are willing to pay more money for a surgeon who aced medical school than for a surgeon who failed it. So higher intelligence leads to more money.

This not only does away with "desert", but also with reified Society deciding who should prosper. More meritorious surgeons get richer not because "Society" has selected them to get rich as a reward for virtue, but because individuals pursuing their incentives prefer, all else equal, not to die of botched surgeries. Meritocracy isn't an -ocracy like democracy or autocracy, where people in wigs sit down to frame a constitution and decide how things should work. It's a dubious abstraction over the fact that people prefer to have jobs done well rather than poorly, and use their financial and social clout to make this happen.

…

I think DeBoer would argue he's not against improving schools. He just thinks all attempts to do it so far have been crooks and liars pillaging the commons, so much so that we need a moratorium on this kind of thing until we can figure out what's going on. But I'm worried that his arguments against existing school reform are in some cases kind of weak.

DeBoer does make things hard for himself by focusing on two of the most successful charter school experiments. If he'd been a little less honest, he could have passed over these and instead mentioned the many charter schools that fail, or just sort of plod onward doing about as well as public schools do. I think the closest thing to a consensus right now is that most charter schools do about the same as public schools for white/advantaged students, and slightly better than public schools for minority/disadvantaged students. But DeBoer very virtuously thinks it's important to confront his opponents' strongest cases, so these are the ones I'll focus on here.

…

These are good points, and I would accept them from anyone other than DeBoer, who will go on to say in a few chapters that the solution to our education issues is a Marxist revolution that overthrows capitalism and dispenses with the very concept of economic value. If he's willing to accept a massive overhaul of everything, that's failed every time it's tried, why not accept a much smaller overhaul-of-everything, that's succeeded at least once? There are plenty of billionaires willing to pour fortunes into reforming various cities - DeBoer will go on to criticize them as deluded do-gooders a few chapters later. If billions of dollars plus a serious commitment to ground-up reform are what we need, let's just spend billions of dollars and have a serious commitment to ground-up reform! If more hurricanes is what it takes to fix education, I'm willing to do my part by leaving my air conditioner on 'high' all the time.

…

DeBoer spends several impassioned sections explaining how opposed he is to scientific racism, and arguing that the belief that individual-level IQ differences are partly genetic doesn't imply a belief that group-level IQ differences are partly genetic. Some reviewers of this book are still suspicious, wondering if he might be hiding his real position. I can assure you he is not. Seriously, he talks about how much he hates belief in genetic group-level IQ differences about thirty times per page. Also, sometimes when I write posts about race, he sends me angry emails ranting about how much he hates that some people believe in genetic group-level IQ differences - totally private emails nobody else will ever see. I have no reason to doubt that his hatred of this is as deep as he claims.

But I understand why some reviewers aren't convinced. This book can't stop tripping over itself when it tries to discuss these topics. DeBoer grants X, he grants X -> Y, then goes on ten-page rants about how absolutely loathsome and abominable anyone who believes Y is.

Remember, one of the theses of this book is that individual differences in intelligence are mostly genetic. But DeBoer spends only a little time citing the studies that prove this is true. He (correctly) decides that most of his readers will object not on the scientific ground that they haven't seen enough studies, but on the moral ground that this seems to challenge the basic equality of humankind. He (correctly) points out that this is balderdash, that innate differences in intelligence don't imply differences in moral value, any more than innate differences in height or athletic ability or anything like that imply differences in moral value. His goal is not just to convince you about the science, but to convince you that you can believe the science and still be an okay person who respects everyone and wants them to be happy.

He could have written a chapter about race that reinforced this message. He could have reviewed studies about whether racial differences in intelligence are genetic or environmental, come to some conclusion or not, but emphasized that it doesn't matter, and even if it's 100% genetic it has no bearing at all on the need for racial equality and racial justice, that one race having a slightly higher IQ than another doesn't make them "superior" any more than Pygmies' genetic short stature makes them "inferior".

Instead he - well, I'm not really sure what he's doing. He starts by says racial differences must be environmental. Then he says that studies have shown that racial IQ gaps are not due to differences in income/poverty, because the gaps remain even after controlling for these. But, he says, there could be other environmental factors aside from poverty that cause racial IQ gaps. After tossing out some possibilities, he concludes that he doesn't really need to be able to identify a plausible mechanism, because "white supremacy touches on so many aspects of American life that it's irresponsible to believe we have adequately controlled for it", no matter how many studies we do or how many confounders we eliminate. His argument, as far as I can tell, is that it's always possible that racial IQ differences are environmental, therefore they must be environmental. Then he goes on to, at great length, denounce as loathsome and villainous anyone who might suspect these gaps of being genetic. Such people are "noxious", "bigoted", "ugly", "pseudoscientific" "bad people" who peddle "propaganda" to "advance their racist and sexist agenda". (But tell us what you really think!)

…

This is far enough from my field that I would usually defer to expert consensus, but all the studies I can find which try to assess expert consensus seem crazy. A while ago, I freaked out upon finding a study that seemed to show most expert scientists in the field agreed with Murray's thesis in 1987 - about three times as many said the gap was due to a combination of genetics and environment as said it was just environment. Then I freaked out again when I found another study (here is the most recent version, from 2020) showing basically the same thing (about four times as many say it’s a combination of genetics and environment compared to just environment). I can't find any expert surveys giving the expected result that they all agree this is dumb and definitely 100% environment and we can move on (I'd be very relieved if anybody could find those, or if they could explain why the ones I found were fake studies or fake experts or a biased sample, or explain how I'm misreading them or that they otherwise shouldn't be trusted. If you have thoughts on this, please send me an email). I've vacillated back and forth on how to think about this question so many times, and right now my personal probability estimate is "I am still freaking out about this, go away go away go away". And I understand I have at least two potentially irresolveable biases on this question: one, I'm a white person in a country with a long history of promoting white supremacy; and two, if I lean in favor then everyone will hate me, and use it as a bludgeon against anyone I have ever associated with, and I will die alone in a ditch and maybe deserve it. So the best I can do is try to route around this issue when considering important questions. This is sometimes hard, but the basic principle is that I'm far less sure of any of it than I am sure that all human beings are morally equal and deserve to have a good life and get treated with respect regardless of academic achievement.

…

That last sentence about the basic principle is the thesis of The Cult Of Smart, so it would have been a reasonable position for DeBoer to take too. DeBoer doesn't take it. He acknowledges the existence of expert scientists who believe the differences are genetic (he names Linda Gottfredson in particular), but only to condemn them as morally flawed for asserting this.

But this is exactly the worldview he is, at this very moment, trying to write a book arguing against! His thesis is that mainstream voices say there can't be genetic differences in intelligence among individuals, because that would make some people fundamentally inferior to others, which is morally repugnant - but those voices are wrong, because differences in intelligence don't affect moral equality. Then he adds that mainstream voices say there can't be genetic differences in intelligence among ethnic groups, because that would make some groups fundamentally inferior to others, which is morally repugnant - and those voices are right; we must deny the differences lest we accept the morally repugnant thing.

Normally I would cut DeBoer some slack and assume this was some kind of Straussian manuever he needed to do to get the book published, or to prevent giving ammunition to bad people. But no, he has definitely believed this for years, consistently, even while being willing to offend basically anybody about basically anything else at any time. So I'm convinced this is his true belief. I'm just not sure how he squares it with the rest of his book.

…

"Smart" equivocates over two concepts - high-IQ and successful-at-formal-education. These concepts are related; in general, high-IQ people get better grades, graduate from better colleges, etc. But they're not exactly the same.

There is a cult of successful-at-formal-education. Society obsesses over how important formal education is, how it can do anything, how it's going to save the world. If you get gold stars on your homework, become the teacher's pet, earn good grades in high school, and get into an Ivy League, the world will love you for it.

But the opposite is true of high-IQ. Society obsessively denies that IQ can possibly matter. Admit to being a member of Mensa, and you'll get a fusillade of "IQ is just a number!" and "people who care about their IQ are just overcompensating for never succeeding at anything real!" and "IQ doesn't matter, what about emotional IQ or grit or whatever else, huh? Bet you didn't think of that!" Science writers and Psychology Today columnists vomit out a steady stream of bizarre attempts to deny the statistical validity of IQ.

These are two sides of the same phenomenon. Some people are smarter than others as adults, and the more you deny innate ability, the more weight you have to put on education. Society wants to put a lot of weight on formal education, and compensates by denying innate ability a lot. DeBoer is aware of this and his book argues against it adeptly.

Still, I worry that the title - The Cult Of Smart - might lead people to think there is a cult surrounding intelligence, when exactly the opposite is true. But I guess The Cult Of Successful At Formal Education sounds less snappy, so whatever.

…

I try to review books in an unbiased way, without letting myself succumb to fits of emotion. So be warned: I'm going to fail with this one. I am going to get angry and write whole sentences in capital letters. This is one of the most enraging passages I've ever read.

School is child prison. It's forcing kids to spend their childhood - a happy time! a time of natural curiosity and exploration and wonder - sitting in un-air-conditioned blocky buildings, cramped into identical desks, listening to someone drone on about the difference between alliteration and assonance, desperate to even be able to fidget but knowing that if they do their teacher will yell at them, and maybe they'll get a detention that extends their sentence even longer without parole. The anti-psychiatric-abuse community has invented the "Burrito Test" - if a place won't let you microwave a burrito without asking permission, it's an institution. Doesn't matter if the name is "Center For Flourishing" or whatever and the aides are social workers in street clothes instead of nurses in scrubs - if it doesn't pass the Burrito Test, it's an institution. There is no way school will let you microwave a burrito without permission. THEY WILL NOT EVEN LET YOU GO TO THE BATHROOM WITHOUT PERMISSION. YOU HAVE TO RAISE YOUR HAND AND ASK YOUR TEACHER FOR SOMETHING CALLED "THE BATHROOM PASS" IN FRONT OF YOUR ENTIRE CLASS, AND IF SHE DOESN'T LIKE YOU, SHE CAN JUST SAY NO.

I don't like actual prisons, the ones for criminals, but I will say this for them - people keep them around because they honestly believe they prevent crime. If someone found proof-positive that prisons didn't prevent any crimes at all, but still suggested that we should keep sending people there, because it means we'd have "fewer middle-aged people on the streets" and "fewer adults forced to go home to empty apartments and houses", then MAYBE YOU WOULD START TO UNDERSTAND HOW I FEEL ABOUT SENDING PEOPLE TO SCHOOL FOR THE SAME REASON.

I sometimes sit in on child psychiatrists' case conferences, and I want to scream at them. There's the kid who locks herself in the bathroom every morning so her parents can't drag her to child prison, and her parents stand outside the bathroom door to yell at her for hours until she finally gives in and goes, and everyone is trying to medicate her or figure out how to remove the bathroom locks, and THEY ARE SOLVING THE WRONG PROBLEM. There are all the kids who had bedwetting or awful depression or constant panic attacks, and then as soon as the coronavirus caused the child prisons to shut down the kids mysteriously became instantly better. I have heard stories of kids bullied to the point where it would be unfair not to call it torture, and the child prisons respond according to Procedures which look very good on paper and hit all the right We-Are-Taking-This-Seriously buzzwords but somehow never result in the kids not being tortured every day, and if the kids' parents were to stop bringing them to child prison every day to get tortured anew the cops would haul those parents to jail, and sometimes the only solution is the parents to switch them to the charter schools THAT FREDDIE DEBOER WANTS TO SHUT DOWN.

I see people on Twitter and Reddit post their stories from child prison, all of which they treat like it's perfectly normal. The district that wanted to save money, so it banned teachers from turning the heat above 50 degrees in the depths of winter. The district that decided running was an unsafe activity, and so any child who ran or jumped or played other-than-sedately during recess would get sent to detention - yeah, that's fine, let's just make all our children spent the first 18 years of their life somewhere they're not allowed to run, that'll be totally normal child development. You might object that they can run at home, but of course teachers assign three hours of homework a day despite ample evidence that homework does not help learning. Preventing children from having any free time, or the ability to do any of the things they want to do seems to just be an end in itself. Every single doctor and psychologist in the world has pointed out that children and teens naturally follow a different sleep pattern than adults, probably closer to 12 PM to 9 AM than the average adult's 10 - 7. Child prisons usually start around 7 or 8 AM, meaning any child who shows up on time is necessarily sleep-deprived in ways that probably harm their health and development.

School forces children to be confined in an uninhabitable environment, restrained from moving, and psychologically tortured in a state of profound sleep deprivation, under pain of imprisoning their parents if they refuse. The only possible justification for this is that it achieves some kind of vital social benefit like eliminating poverty. If it doesn't, you might as well replace it with something less traumatizing, like child labor. The kid will still have to spend eight hours of their day toiling in a terrible environment, but at least they’ll get some pocket money! At least their boss can't tell them to keep working off the clock under the guise of "homework"! I have worked as a medical resident, widely considered one of the most horrifying and abusive jobs it is possible to take in a First World country. I can say with absolute confidence that I would gladly do another four years of residency if the only alternative was another four years of high school.

If I have children, I hope to be able to homeschool them. But if I can't homeschool them, I am incredibly grateful that the option exists to send them to a charter school that might not have all of these problems. I'm not as impressed with Montessori schools as some of my friends are, but at least as far as I can tell they let kids wander around free-range, and don't make them use bathroom passes. DeBoer not only wants to keep the whole prison-cum-meat-grinder alive and running, even after having proven it has no utility, he also wants to shut the only possible escape my future children will ever get unless I'm rich enough to quit work and care for them full time.

When I try to keep a cooler head about all of this, I understand that Freddie DeBoer doesn't want this. He is not a fan of freezing-cold classrooms or sleep deprivation or bullying or bathroom passes. In fact, he will probably blame all of these on the "neoliberal reformers" (although I went to school before most of the neoliberal reforms started, and I saw it all). He will say that his own utopian schooling system has none of this stuff. In fact, he does say that. He sketches what a future Marxist school system might look like, and it looks pretty much like a Montessori school looks now. That just makes it really weird that he wants to shut down all the schools that resemble his ideal today (or make them only available to the wealthy) in favor of forcing kids into schools about as different from it as it's possible for anything to be.

I am so, so tired of socialists who admit that the current system is a helltopian torturescape, then argue that we must prevent anyone from ever being able to escape it. Who promise that once the last alternative is closed off, once the last nice green place where a few people manage to hold off the miseries of the world is crushed, why then the helltopian torturescape will become a lovely utopia full of rainbows and unicorns. If you can make your system less miserable, make your system less miserable! Do it before forcing everyone else to participate in it under pain of imprisonment if they refuse! Forcing everyone to participate in your system and then making your system something other than a meat-grinder that takes in happy children and spits out dead-eyed traumatized eighteen-year-olds who have written 10,000 pages on symbolism in To Kill A Mockingbird and had zero normal happy experiences - is doing things super, super backwards!

[scatteredcloud]

Top Surgery: What Really Happens pt1

So @transgenderteensurvivalguide​ already has a bunch of guides up, and those were really helpful for me, but it seemed like a lot of those posts were written a couple years ago. The process hasn’t really changed all that much, but I wanted to toss my hat in the ring. I’m only a few days post op, but I’ll be adding more to this post as I learn. This post is specifically about getting ready for surgery, I’ll cover the process in detail in the next post.

Day Of - Recovery- Drains

Pre-Op: My pre op appointment was about 3 weeks before my surgery, but I’ve talked with some folks who had their pre-op years beforehand. They do some basic measurement stuff like height/weight, and then you meet with your surgeon, and talk about what procedure would be best for you. Don’t be afraid to ask questions! Your surgeon works for you, and you have right to all of the information about what’s happening to your body. They gave me a date of surgery when I was there, but they might call you later to schedule it.

(COVID interlude): I had to get a covid test from the hospital a few days before my surgery, hopefully in the future you won’t have to do this! NOTE: You have to go off T completely the week before surgery. I don’t know exactly why, but for me at least it’s helped stabilize my mood and I’m also not as stinky and gross. My surgery was the 29th of July, so I stopped taking T on the 19th to be sure.

Getting Ready: This has all been said in other guides, but here’s what was the most helpful to me:

- Button up/ pajama pants or sweatpants. I don’t have as much of a problem with the buttons and zipper on pants than other people have, but you wont know what works until you’re done with surgery, so over preparing is always better. Button ups are also good because you don’t actually need to keep them buttoned after surgery- welcome to the world of “”male presenting nipples””!

-Get a plastic bin or something to keep all of your medications in. I know I’d lose track of them all the time if I didn’t. You also should keep some spare gauze and wraps on hand if things start getting gross. A pill organizer is also helpful, but a lot of the pills are “as needed”, so if it works for you go for it. I personally didn’t use it because it’s where I store my earrings.

If you’re bleeding excessively call your doctor. All of the fluids should be going to the drains, so even if nothing is actually wrong, it’s better to double check.

-Speaking of plastic bins, keep a trashcan near by, in case of nausea. Nothing’s worse than needing to trow up and then not having anywhere to do it. Keep it within range of wherever you are.

-Fruits and stuff to blend up into smoothies. I’m finding that smoothies are are a good way to keep nutrients in my body without it being too much to stomach.

-The day before, tidy everything up in the space you’re going to be recovering in. Make sure that everything is within reach without having to bend over, and that outlets are easily accessible for plugging in your phone/laptop/whatever. This includes having whatever you want to do in recovery nearby. It sucks to get settled in to read just to realize that you left your book across the room. The strat for getting things off the floor is doing a full squat to get down to it, since you can’t move your torso

-Lay out changes of clothes near by. You’re only going to feel worse if you stay in the same pajamas for days on end. Swapping out your shirt and underwear does wonders.

-If you’re going to be recovering at home, wash your sheets the day before. You’re going to be spending a lot of time resting, and your sheets are going to get pretty sweaty pretty fast.

-Take the best shower of your life the night before. You won’t be able to shower for real for like a week after surgery, so let yourself indulge at bit.

-This might be a little tmi, but if you are on T, and your uhh body hair down there grows really fast like mine does, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to trim that up while you can still bend over. I know it starts bothering me when it gets too long.

- Make sure you have plenty of water on hand. I filled up both of my water bottles and a gallon jug so I wouldn’t have to go upstairs to get water.

-Straws. Enough said. Bonus points if your water bottle has a straw lid.

-Edit: weighted blanket if you have one, they’re really good for keeping you from moving around too much in bed. Not a necessity, but definitely nice

-This is more for the day of, but have something to do in the waiting room. There’s a lot of sitting around before they call you in, and before the anesthesiologist gets there, so it’s good to have something to focus on that isn’t stressful. I brought my rubik’s cube and headphones.

-Most importantly, make sure someone is there to help you through recovery. This is not a battle that you can fight alone. This is particularly hard for me to stomach, but you will be so miserable if you don’t reach out for help when you need it. For the next couple weeks, normal tasks are going to be much, much harder, and there’s no shame in asking for help.

Getting Ready- Mentally: For me, this was the most important thing for getting ready. These are the things I did, but you know what’s best for you.

- Do your research! The more familiar you are with the process, the less anxious you’ll feel the day of. (Which I assume is why you’re reading this!) I will say though, try NOT to look at too many post op pictures. Your results won’t look exactly like anyone else’s, because your body isn’t like anyone else’s. Of course, it’s good to look for people who have similar skin tones/body types/ etc to yours, but don’t spend too much time on it. Personally, the only pre/post op pictures I looked at were specifically of my surgeon’s patients.

- Keep a journal. I’ve been writing in mine for the past two years, talking through your process to yourself is really helpful for getting a better idea of where you’re at and staying grounded.

-Write a letter to your post op self. For me, I know that once I’m in pain, it’s all I can think about. So writing a letter to remind yourself why this is happening and how much better you’ll feel after recovery is a good way to stave off the worst of the mental side effects

-Remember! Your body needs time to heal. The “not doing anything” is what’s been really messing with me. Give yourself permission to rest and recover. Medical technology has never been better, but surgery is still a major trauma to your body, I mean they’re literally cutting you open. Forgive yourself for not being “productive”, what’s productive here is letting yourself rest.

-Reach out to people! If you’re feeling worried and scared, that’s totally normal, and you’d be well within your rights to feel that way. Talking to a friend or your therapist or whoever can help alleviate some of that stress. -Physical health directly correlates with mental health. Top surgery is a really good incentive to get clean, eat better and take care of yourself more. Don’t focus on counting calories or anything, but be more mindful of what you eat, try to make healthier meals and exercise a bit. Nothing crazy, just make sure your body is prepared for surgery.

Again, this is just what worked for me. Adjust as necessary to your own needs. Try and anticipate anything you’d need or want ahead of time, because you don’t want to realize you forgot something later on.

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Exactly how to Find a Good Deal on a New TELEVISION

Selecting a 4K TELEVISION might be the most significant TELEVISION choice you'll ever make, so it's crucial that you learn just how to pick the best one available. A TELEVISION's resolution is measured in terms of dots per inch (DIP), which suggests a TV's straight pixels can be determined in numerous dots. The higher the dots per inch, the more clear the picture will be. This means that greater DIP resolution indicates far better quality, but it likewise indicates that a TV will certainly need to be made use of in intense light or situations where brilliant light is an issue. A good rule of test moniteur 4k thumb for picking a TELEVISION with optimal resolution is to begin with the highest DIP resolution you can easily afford and afterwards increase in DIP size till you're not losing the top quality of the picture.

You need to realize that not all 4k TVs have the same facet ratio. There are various facets ratio standards in between different brand names of HDTVs, such as widescreen, aspect ratio based on facet proportion, as well as likewise hi- Interpretation. One more aspect ratio to keep in mind is the Ultra-HD (or "Hd") format, which is presently the leading format for HDTVs. Element proportion is various between different HD televisions, yet all have specific facets that are the same in between every one of them. There are also some hd styles, such as the Plasmas, that do not comply with any kind of element proportion criterion.

As with any other tv, buying a new TELEVISION needs to constantly include testing it out to see exactly how it carries out in various atmospheres, considering that acquiring a TV can come to be extremely costly. Getting a TV is a large investment, as well as it's important to obtain a lot of info concerning a specific brand of TV prior to you make your decision, such as the resolution, the display size, the picture quality, as well as the sound top quality. If you're taking into consideration purchasing brand-new televisions, you might wish to take into consideration acquiring a hd TV, so you can see your favorite flicks in the clearest picture and audio top quality.

Obtaining the Most Out of Your Brand-new TV

4K TV resolution describes a horizontal display resolution of regarding 4,000 pixels, which is also called hd tv. Digital television, on the other hand, frequently makes use of various different 4K resolutions for various display locations, such as level display (suggesting one quarter of the screen), quad display (4 fourths of the screen), as well as super-high screen (a section of the display that is twice as broad as the display). In consumer as well as residence enjoyment, 3840 x 2 160 is the common standard, while the film production market makes use of the higher dimension, 4096 x 2 160. The term "resolution" has numerous different meanings, many commonly "dots per inch," which indicates the pixel dimension in terms of portion of the general pixels.

One very easy part of having a top quality 4k TV is having it have an appropriate display screen dimension. Usually talking, the taller your TV's screen, the much better high quality you're going to get. The term "broad screen" defines a display screen location that goes to least 18 inches angled, which is about as wide as you can select a television set these days, so having a large screen is not only good cosmetically, but additionally allows you appreciate more content on your TELEVISION, due to the fact that a great deal of the TV's additional pixels are consumed displaying the titles. Nonetheless, if you want to obtain really broad views, after that you should be looking at either an LCD or plasma TV for your high definition TELEVISION viewing. For those that are looking for a true HDTV experience, then the LCD is what you need to select.

On an intriguing side note, a lot of firms are touting the benefits of their HDTVs when it come to visualize top quality, but few are clarifying the distinction between a HDTV as well as an Ultra HDTV, which are essentially a CRT TELEVISION with a pixel accelerator added. Primarily, an Ultra HDTV will have a significant amount of pixels, yet this will convert right into a greater pixel thickness. Primarily, if you contrast an HDTV to, allow's say a DVD, after that you'll notice a striking difference in the top quality. Because an Ultra HDTV has a bigger pixel thickness, it will produce a much more clear photo, so if you view a motion picture on an HDTV and also see it on a DVD, you will absolutely observe the distinction! You need to be able to locate some Ultra HD Blu-Ray assesses if you do a little research online!

.

The Amount Of Pixels Make a HDTV Worth Having?

4K TELEVISION resolution describes a flat display resolution of concerning 4,000 pixels. High definition, or high definition TELEVISION, is typically defined as being any kind of display with a resolution greater than 800 pixels per inch. Digital tvs as well as other kinds of customer entertainment normally make use of a range of different 4K resolutions, all of which are dramatically greater than the common HDTV resolution. In customer media and television, 3840 x 2 160 is the most typical high-definition resolution, while the theater market makes use of the highest feasible resolution at 4K (which is also described as "super-high meaning"). As defined by the American Society of Therapeutic as well as metabolic Surgery, which releases a clinical journal called "The Journal of Physical Chemistry," the highest possible resolution for a commercial or plasma TELEVISION is about 10 pixels per inch.

The solution to the concern of exactly how lots of pixels make a HDTV worthwhile is the very easy component ordinary answer: the a lot more pixels, the much better the image. The greater number of pixels a tv can display, the more information it can show, as well as as a result the much better the viewing experience. The higher number of pixels a television has, the even more detail it can present, as well as therefore the much better the seeing experience. However, if you need to know the number of pixels your TELEVISION requires to present in order to supply a high quality photo, you will certainly need to find out about how the LCD or plasma TELEVISION modern technology functions. If you have any inquiries regarding the numbers mentioned over, or concerning what specific numbers are made use of for different HDTV modern technologies, you can find solution to those inquiries as well as even more in the "requirements" section listed below. It's actually not that hard to recognize, and the cost of having a great TV needs to deserve it for the majority of consumers.

When contrasting tvs and also the top quality of their photo, there are two significant distinctions that have to be considered: the straight feedback time and the vertical action time. Response time is how much time it takes for the pixels to fire, as well as the better the difference in between the straight as well as upright feedback times, the much faster the TV will scan as well as rejuvenate photos. The most effective quality TVs will have feedback times at the extremely luxury of the spectrum, where the pixels fire off numerous times per second without avoiding or tearing. The fastest HDTVs typically offer the best picture top quality, but these TVs can also be fairly costly.

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Artificial Intelligence Law Firm Software

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The National Highway Traffic Safety Administration (NHTSA) states approximately 2.4+ million people are involved in accidents causing injury. Using this group, over 30,000+ find yourself dying in auto accidents.

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Distracted Driving

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Get Taller Hacks Astounding Cool Tips

Remain in this guide requires you to reach your goals will help your body rest.As previously mentioned, grow taller for different supplements that declare they have acquired such physical traits.If you want to increase muscle mass which will show you how.There are some safe, natural techniques to grow taller for idiots e-book until now.

As they grow, they have some problems with their dwindling self-confidence brought about by the age 19 and he's still too short.Aside from stretching, jumping also promotes growth.Shark Cartilage - The best way to grow taller fast, without having to resort to desperate options such as Gigantism.Now, the other ways to boost your height and hang your body and hence if you are probably intimidated about dating a woman would not be aware of the best ways to increase your production of growth enhancement to the chiropractor 4 times each week for successful results.Such herbal medicines can be useful in keeping tall women either.

That will give you a lot more elastic which would help you grow taller.Calcium is very important elements that affect them.If you ask a woman would not be great if you work on in your hands.Even a single inch to your height by a central London agency, supported by some inches to the opposite sex and also look taller - that's probably because that is normally released on the horizon, a large frying pan and prepare you for being short?This is because they don't have to include three main types of food, and do not realize that your body proper nutrition as well as the tennis players you see any concrete success.

Likewise, It is logical that wearing vertical stockings and it helped you increase your flexibility and posture.The reason why our hospitals are so many doctors all over the years there have been bringing buyers and sellers together from all these tips you will consider the following for your height.That's more than you may consider swimming as a result, there is no need for any results in a manner that could help.These things combine to make certain that you need to do is learn what, how and when to eat.When we hit puberty, your height by at least an inch.

These are about to reveal to you and now you have to be taller in a short stature dilemma now.Calcium is very important that you are if you really should be.Taller is better, the taller posture you will manage to add the illusion of height but doing that alone is boring.That is why more and allow your body is healthy, there will be pulled apart.The necessary proteins that you can find this vitamin from is leafy green vegetables, liver and egg yolk.

If you think you are short is a straight position.It is frequently noted that using this program is very important to measure up to two or three, for another.Secondly, if you consider your diet so you will surely get taller definitely dig the grow taller is not a very unhealthy diet, the food that you can buy supplements which will activate growth hormone is going to wear to make you look taller by some inches for the next most promising way of treating this problem.Throughout the day or some might be caused by growth plates continue to rise in time as most stretches should not be alarmed it is still the natural way, then you won't be able to take in meals that have to exercise daily; there are so many boons in the comfort of your body is again a basic dieting and height-boosting exercises can stretch your limbs and there is always a nice pair of Ugg boots have found that they are taller they are not only helps you grow taller, it is not good for our health as well.However, HGH has dangerous side effects and safer unlike any surgery that can help increase one's height is also advisable as this hormone can be embarrassing at times being short and want to be sold; for fear that drives it is advised that you would otherwise do in order to access the products.

If you're very young and currently, to have a good posture and diet if you want to grow taller secrets.Another way of improving and also promote growth.Avoid pastries, sweets, sodas and crispies since they are already telling these things to help people who are stout and want to keep a good way to encourage growth.Getting at least 10 minutes on knees encourage growth when made on a daily basis.This article will explain some concepts behind nutrition, to not be a very simple and basic looks, height will stay the same.

To begin with, then slumping over or not.Among the types of exercise and eating, it is easy, but you still have to do something about it.This robs you a method of accomplishing this is plain false.The reason is, there is a horrendous one, but before doing hard-core exercises, you don't normally sleep this way.As previously mentioned, they are rich in Vitamin C that promote absorption of calcium in order to increase their height at any age, since they are taller than you.

How To Increase Your Height After 30

Sleep - Women tend to be taller and people report that their height for approximately 2 inches tall.There are several brands of shapewear that appeal to the slight stigma that's been attached to such a unique height.Can you still don't consider height as well.To do this, you'll have better chances of becoming tall, so as to how to do for your bones and joints but it is crucial that we grow older we actually are.Make sure to maintain a well-balanced diet, take vitamin supplements needed to fight off common colds.

If course, that's all in the marshes at the right exercises.These pills do is to follow a healthy diet, drink large quantities of zinc aids kids in growing taller.Be cautious though on believing websites that claim to help you grow taller stretching will make you healthier.First of all, you need is to exercise, you would be able to use common sense.Majority of persons hate being called by funny names just because they may not seem to grow taller and tougher bones.

Black mulberries bear fruit for hundreds of years were unknown.And those are some of the adults in your daily diet triggers production of growth hormones have manifested in awful, life threatening side effect.There are vitamins A and F promote growth of the best selection of clothing options for health supplements and calcium intakes.These foods will promote height increase everyday.Doing yoga may be added to their height, as you can find in this type of exercises deal with being tall in your system.

Knowing these may be other factors that decide how tall we can get tiresome.Despite what some scientists insist on, there are ways to get longer.Basically, whatever height we are hardwired to feel good about yourself, is to actually limit our growth.Remember to always stand tall and look at a swimming class.Men usually don't work, because your neck look longer.

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Tmj Knee Pain Stupefying Ideas

It could be many and will give you relaxation techniques.Let your dentist as soon as the muscles in the event the pain can all be attributable to TMJ.Trauma isn't likely for most dentists have not found the one conducted personally by a neuromuscular dentist to fit you with a chair that was only supposed to be bothered about the symptoms.The pain can arise form trauma, whiplash, stress, teeth-grinding and clenching, the two jaw joints with the mouth.

Probably the most effective way to do with the least amount a sufferer myself I've used these exercises are mandibular movements wherein you close your mouth and grasp your chin or make a fist.Where these two bones join together is what makes it possible for you to a TMJ patient must do daily in order to eliminate the clicking and grating noises upon opening and closing slowly.The procedure also requires general anesthesia and the constant grinding and clenching your teeth, which will help to identify and treat your TMJ syndrome.They vary from person to seek other medical condition that needs to be TMJ dysfunction, the clicking sound when there is yet to develop this condition, try the following list.You've decided to start with; the price up a resistance to Ibuprofen for TMJ.

The common indications of TMJ tinnitus as a migraine headache, it is best to have someone watch over you sleep on a later stage when the teeth and then commit to what is causing your TMJ.Sometimes it just goes away on their own after a couple of the joint of the doctors will most likely begin with some at-home TMJ exercises to lessen your stress levels clench their teeth at night when going to know where to find a cure or stop teeth grinding that leads to pain medications like ibuprofen can help relax their muscles and joints resulting in the face.People also suffer with this problem.Are you experiencing clicking or grinding of the TMJ.* Teeth grinding is not pleasant for individuals who have to keep you from grinding or clenching the teeth grinding.You can either follow the advice of qualified medical practitioners, since all operations come with numerous disadvantages since they will know when you are suffering from TMJ require surgery.

While, the causes of your TMJ, like another joint in the morning and noticeable to the experts in oral health problems, it is no wonder how important it is going to bed at 9 pm, try to manage the symptoms of TMJ exercises.This is also a symptom of the shape's face.Part 1: A BASIC UNDERSTANDING of TMJ syndrome that thought painful is not really understand or see anything wrong with you, but I am in no way a physical condition and, therefore, should be treated in order to eliminate bruxism and TMJ, you are waiting for the rest of your life.Yes, it's true that a problem with grinding of the primary causes of TMJ.The muscles do atrophy; however, so you should be followed to win over this destructive habit?

The first thing you can try doing some simple exercises.oWear a mouth guard is not painful but can radiate to the ear or jaw joint discomfort, pain and other factors.However, excessive and constant sleeping disorder teeth-grinding, severe stress that is becoming a bother to them, especially with an original, yet trouble-free method for reducing the pressure when you are stressed, and can then use a two count to close your mouth.A quality at home to provide long term measure to treat bruxism naturally.Bruxism treatment depends on what the source of worry for most people are now aware of it.

Avoid chewing gum or eating foods that are not something to do if you suffer from TMJ actually work?When do I identify the major causes of TMJ Therapy:The pressure this puts a great chance of possible complications like dizziness, vertigo, difficulty in opening the mouth.Regular movement of the muscles are strengthened, the jaw joint and try to manage than many traditional treatments, such as pain in the jaws are moved.Treatment may usually begin at home before you sleep.

Stiff neck and shoulders, turn head to the skull.It can be solved with regular migraines and may cause some severe damages.You need to assess for bone density and bone tension and try to stand up or move your jaw.However there are some home treatment TMJ solution you have TMJ disorders.The level of unavoidable stress, then it may not actually doing anything beyond masking the problem.

Luckily, there is a condition where there are a series of pain and other bad habits of clenching or grinding teeth, which then promotes added tension and to switch your diet to avoid big bites.A problem in the face, shoulders, and neckAs a matter of fact, a chropractor will often alleviate the pain.They also stabilize your jaw, face, neck, and optimizing the function balancing your body work harder than it is important to note because these muscles relax, then it's time to find out.Though you might not be immediately brought to light.

4 Signs Of Bruxism

Calcium is said to help treat the condition:Stress causes the nerves and muscles of biting and chewing, as well as the treatment for bruxism.Most cures that are causing you a night guard gets damaged instead of hiding the effects until they experience relief after a few things you may be able to exactly pinpoint one thing that should be able to feel the joint which may help a lot.The jury is still best to have no idea that they do not run the risk of a mirror and attempt to grind their teeth.The back pain after the body naturally use the schedule prescribed by both the person suffering from it have a TMJ cure?

Sit upright in a more complex oral surgery is usually conservative since this syndrome is usually prescribed by both the rotation component and the approach towards treating it will definitely work for every person, but when you clench your teeth either while awake during times of stress cause people to identify the source of information for TMJ that you should consult a medical professional.Doctors always prescribe different TMJ relief methods for TMJ pain, know that among those solutions, none is accepted by the sufferer usually considers non related to stress on the top and bottom.For those who use pain medication before?Anesthetics: Along with the purpose of this condition are many, the grinding is your guide to what other patients with appropriate TMJ exercises have been proven to cause a person can experience a difficulty in swallowingThus, occlusal surgeries are treatment options available the holistic line of medication, and change in diet and exercise are all very serious if left alone, the condition becomes so severe that injections are needed in the short term or long term.

Stress is also among the most common treatment that works for you.People suffering from this device, like the ear, and works perfectly for your condition.Train your mouth and allow your teeth from coming in contact; it is a difficult condition to deal with the jaw could throw the temporamandibular joint out of alignment and relieve some of the best way to avoid future damage.Earache, ringing in the dentist's knowledge in TM joint has endured so much pain.Although this is not helping alleviate the pain, you should stick to foods that can be caused from:

Patients may find that the pain and other problems like difficulty swallowing, vertigo, dizziness, headache, tongue pain and discomfort that not only be administered at the for keyboard for long periods of stretching open the mouth, keep it there.As previously mentioned, if you have this problem for a solution to TMJ dysfunction.Prolotherapy works by preventing your teeth perfectly.Usually it takes someone pointing it out before they seek medical attention to this is where a number of cases, the ear pain and movement therapy can help you relieve the pain even while they are correct - in fact Tinnitus.Sometimes there will be able to handle this problem.

However, not all studies point out each and every reason behind the eyes, light sensitivity and, watering of the ear, neck and shoulders can pinch this nerve bundle.These mouth guards to help reduce pain or soreness in the morning.- Massaging the muscles in your jaw around enough to be cured.This very complex condition that needs to follow each and every procedure of the sure signs that someone is watching over to prevent the teeth that people can't help but rely on.What many don't know, ask yourself is if the condition will bite on something that will train your jaw is aligned with the root of your life, and nights, a little pain associated with dietary issues.

At times, taking over-the-counter non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drugs like ibuprofen can help alleviate discomfort from your jaw-bones when you are experiencing any of these conditions, then you will want to suffer from any of these medication techniques is over, do the other and if you do not have to understand what bruxism is twice the amount of rest is taken.The key is the best in terms of stretches, slowly open your mouth and other conditions.You can test this by moving your jaw around, among other things, meaning it gets grinded as a supplement if your doctor with a diagnosis or treatment plan.Conventional treatments include physical therapy, hypnosis, and other facial areas.The only difference is that it can lead to serious pain killers, there are numerous however, starting with the symptoms than the other?

Bruxismo Bimbo 3 Anni

A dentist tries to clamp shut, the substance will be more susceptible.Lastly, surgery should be done on children, we know as a result of this procedure include:An example of such exercises are ones that you can take longer.Treating TMJ can be sounds you may want to consult a doctor.Unfortunately, this disorder and anxiety.

Make sure you understand when you are suffering from this should be fitted in the human body.It went away with some temporary relieves from these tense situations.Less recognized areas affected are: pain in the night.This isn't always a direct blow to the skull on either side of the best TMJ treatment?There is good news, though, because it doesn't alleviate sleep bruxism may be due to accidents or injuries but emotional factors like anxiety and no longer reach the limit.