#and i am sure there was a trial and i am sure it was clinical but there's no insight into that trial's methodology

[shenyaanigans]

maaaan it's a weird vibe when a youtuber with the conceit that they're a licensed clinical therapist actively talks about how they don't accept sponsorships they don't put their full backing behind, and then that same youtuber accepts a supplement sponsorship repackaged as "bedtime hot chocolate"

[thenightfolknetwork]

The FUCKING CUPIDO missed his DAMN ARROW AND NOW MY BESTIE IS IN LOVE WITH ME

I am AROACE AND VERY HAPPY ABOUT NOT LIVING THIS SHITTY ROMCOM MOVIE

SEND HELP PLEASE THEY WANT TO

*GASP*

*whisper* hold hands under the moonlight!!!!!???!!!!!!

Oh for pity's sake. This is the reason we need proper licensing laws around this kind of activity. It's all very well to acknowledge the importance of cultural expression, but these things must be done responsibly! Every year, hundreds of people in the UK are victims of misfired Cupid's arrows, causing romantic chaos up and down the country.

It may be a comfort to know that any claims that Cupids' arrows cause “true love” are vastly exaggerated. For one thing, clinical trials have thoroughly disproven any claims that magical intervention can cause true love. One cannot wake a sleeping princess with a kiss from someone under the thrall of a love potion, after all.

At most, your friend is feeling a sort of giddy infatuation with you. If you were to respond in kind, and devote yourself to developing the relationship, then you might well come to develop real feelings for each other. But that would be true whether this unfortunate accident had taken place or not. After all, what is a relationship if not feelings given time and attention?

Fortunately, the opposite is also true. If your friend's feelings are left unacknowledged, they will dissipate in a matter of days. I recommend taking yourself off for a long weekend away, and leaving your friend to deal with their emotions by themselves.

Things may be a little awkward between the two of you upon your initial return. But it's important for both of you to remember that these feelings are not real, and are not founded in any real desires on your friend's part. Under ordinary circumstances, I'm sure they would never dream of infringing on your romantic boundaries in such a way.

[For more creaturely advice, check out Monstrous Agonies on your podcast platform of choice, or visit monstrousproductions.org for more info]

[dark-frosted-heart]

Roger Barel Main Route - Chapter 8

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. I’m doing this for archiving purposes and you can probably find a better translation out there.

Entrusted with an undercover mission for Crown, Roger and I headed to a village in the countryside.

We were about to unveil the true identity of the Spirit God who claimed to hold great power when— 

Roger: Did you never learn to let people finish talking while you were in your mama’s womb? Sure, treatment for tetanus isn’t widely available. But if you don’t have it, then you make it.

Spirit God: You can’t possibly…

Roger: As a former doctor, I can.

Spirit God: A…doctor? Lies. You’re just saying that to take my place…

Roger: …Shut it.

Roger cut the man’s ranting with a sharp yell.

Spirit God: …

Roger: While you’re so busy ranting, this little girl’s gonna…die.

The anger in his eyes gave me chills.

(That murderous intent is…incredible)

(...Ah, I see now. Roger’s furious)

(I’ve never seen Roger’s emotions be…laid so bare)

Child’s mom: ……her. Please just save her…!

A powerful cry shook the air.

Holding her dying daughter in her arms, the woman looked at Roger with pleading eyes.

—The man called the Spirit God had his hands bound with rope, and the villagers kept watch over him.

We were given a room where we started working on refining a treatment for tetanus.

Liam: Roger, I brought the drugs you asked for from the storehouse!

Roger: Perfect, thanks. We gotta get the lil’ girl comfortable. Hurry.

Kate: On it!

Roger removed his vest and started looking over the medicine collected.

(There’s not much I can do, but I want to help in any way I can)

Kate: I’ll sterilize the test tubes. You can use carbolic acid, right?

Roger: …O_O

(Huh? Was I wrong about carbolic acid…?)

Kate: Um…Roger?

Roger: I thought you were getting up to something at night. Turns out you were studying medicine.

A large hand ruffled my hair.

Kate: …

I felt like Ale receiving pets.

Despite that…I felt my heart beat a little faster.

Roger: You’ve saved me the trouble. Thanks, Kate.

Kate: No…it’s just some knowledge I crammed in my head. You’re still going to have to guide me.

Roger: Then I’m gonna make you do a lot of work.

(Why am I so happy…to receive praise from Roger?)

Somehow, my heart was beating differently than usual.

(No, no. Knowledge is a part of strength. I was just happy that I got a little stronger)

(...but)

—After selecting some drugs and running tests, a tetanus treatment was refined.

Roger: Alright…now we just need to run clinical trials and then we can give it to people.

(Doing clinical trials means…)

Kate: You’re going to test it on healthy bodies to study the effects.

Roger: That’s right. This time it’s to see if it’s safe to take.

Liam: I’ll do it, Roger. I’m healthy, but if anything happens, it’ll just be to me.

Liam raised his hand first and Roger gave a wry smile.

Roger: Liam. You think I’d just let you give in to your “bad habits”?

Liam: Ah…

Curiosity—that was Liam’s curse.

Roger: Too bad for you. I’m feeling thirsty.

With that said, Roger took the bottle of medicine in one gulp.

Kate and Liam: Eh!

After being stunned by Roger’s bold move, I came back to my senses.

Kate: Roger, what are we going to do if something happens to you!

Roger: It’s fine. My body’s stronger.

(Is it really okay…?)

I was feeling both confidence and doubt toward Roger.

But the man himself…

Roger: We’re gonna have to wait a bit for it to take effect. I’m gonna take a nap. Kate, wake me up in an hour.

With that said, he crashed on a bed— 

Kate: Huh, Roger?

Within a few seconds, he started snoring.

Kate: He…fell asleep…?

I blinked at how fast he fell asleep and Liam laughed.

Liam: Hehe, you couldn’t kill him if you tried. I’m going to check on the villagers. Kate, I’m leaving Roger in your care.

The door closed, leaving Roger and me in the room.

When I sat on the edge of the bed, Roger’s hand fell from his chest onto my lap.

(He’s really asleep…)

His gloved hand was large and bony.

I gently touched his fingers which laid vulnerable on my lap.

(This hand’s killed before)

(And it’s kept many people alive) 

The way Roger’s living, it's like he holds life and death in his hands—a terrible contradiction.

There’s no way a man as smart as him didn’t see that.

He’s an egoist with a rifle as if carrying the sin of killing, claimed to be a former doctor, and lived in darkness.

(...Roger, what are you trying to do with Crown?)

~~ Flashback ~~

Kate: What are you researching, Roger?

Roger: Cursed Ones—and how to rid the word of them.

~~ End flashback ~~

(Did he perhaps mean—)

I shook my head, trying to gather my thoughts.

(...No, let’s not jump to conclusions)

No matter how much I thought about it, I’d never reach the truth about Roger.

(At least, not with the way I am now…)

--

Roger woke up without any issues.

The tetanus drug was given to the infected girl and the villagers watched— 

The girl woke up just as the sun rose.

Roger: …Pulse is normal, no numbness in her limbs. Looks like the medicine did its job.

(Thank goodness…!)

Mother’s child: Thank you so much. You’re a god.

Roger: …Me, a god? Don’t make me laugh. I’m just an ordinary human as you can see. If I were a god, I would’ve rid the world of all its absurdities.

(...Roger?)

Cold eyes betrayed the warmth in his words.

But then  it disappeared in an instant.

In its place was a cynical smile.

Roger: Humans can’t become gods, no matter how hard they try. That’ what makes them so interesting.

Spirit God: …Argh, shut up!

A yell interrupted the peace in the room and we all turned toward the source.

Kate: Huh, Spirit God?! I thought he was captured and kept under watch…

The sudden appearance of the Spirit God confused the villagers.

Man of the village: When did you get free?! Everyone, run.

The Spirit God, who seemed to have escaped on his own, had an ominous smile on his face as the room fell into chaos…

(He’s coming this way…)

I tried to run, but he jumped at me from behind.

Kate: Eek…!

Roger: Kate.

Roger, who was standing by the girl, tried to reach for me, but it was too late. I was captured by the Spirit God.

Liam: Kate…

Roger: …

Spirit God: If you don’t want this woman to be killed, forget everything you saw in this village! That way, I can live as a god again.

(What a mess…Still, he’s surprisingly strong.)

(...What do I do)

His arms wrapped around my neck, cutting off air.

In my desperation, I looked up and met Roger’s gaze.

Roger: …

While everyone else turned pale, Roger was the only one smiling.

(...Huh? Why are you smiling…at a time like this?)

“You’ll get stronger, right”—the amber color happily threw at me.

(T-this guy…!)

(But…)

It’s better to be amusement than to be looked down on for being useless.

(Calm down…and remember what you learned about self-defense from Roger)

~~ Flashback ~~

Roger: Step two, what to do when someone holds you.

Kate: Hey, wait. What should I do?

Roger: Hey, I told you that trying to force your way out’s gonna make it worse.

First, go limp, like a puppet that just got its strings cut.

~~ End flashback ~~

I calmed my mind and released all tension from my body as I exhaled.

Spirit God: …What the, you got heavy all of a sudden.

(Now.)

While the Spirit God was confused, I pushed his arms up from below.

Roger: Well done, Kate. Now keep leaning forward.

The moment I escaped the Spirit God’s hold, Roger took over.

Kate: …!

A powerful jab in the jaw knocked the Spirit God unconscious.

(His eyes rolled back. He’s completely out…)

Kate: A one-hit K.O…What’s with that brute strength?

Roger: I didn’t tell you? I’m a heavyweight boxing champ.

Wow…

Really?

You’re one heck of a guy +4 +4

Kate: Hmm… Wait! You’re just casually mentioning that you’re a heavyweight boxing champ?!

Roger: Haha, amazing, aren’t I?

(He’s not joking. He really is one heck of a guy…)

I would’ve loved to spend an hour or so asking him about boxing, but I had something else on my mind.

Kate: He’s not dead is he…?

I checked the Spirit God for a pulse.

Kate: Ah, he’s breathing…

Liam: He’s breathing, but won’t wake up for a while. Well, it’s for the best.

(He’s not dead, which is good for now…)

No matter how evil a person was, seeing them die before your eyes left a bad taste in your mouth.

Blonde child: …Mr. Glasses.

The girl seemed well enough to get out of bed and approached Roger.

Roger: Hm, what is it? Does it hurt anywhere?)

Blonde child: No. Um…Thank you…For making the pain go away. And…thank you miss and Mr. Pink…

Kate: I’m glad you’re feeling better.

Liam: Mr. Pink. How cute.

Roger: You’re welcome. This is the best reward I’ve gotten.

--

After waking up, the Spirit God admitted to all his crimes and was sent to the police.

Victor arrived later and told us that the village, which had closed itself to the public, would now open up with financial support from Her Majesty.

As for me—

After parting ways with Victor, who stayed to clean up the mess, and Liam, who volunteered to accompany him, Roger and I boarded the train back to London.

From outside the window, twilight dyed the sky.

Roger: Pfft, haha.

Roger, who sat across from me, suddenly burst into laughter.

Roger: The look on that guy’s face when you slipped out of his arms was a masterpiece.

(Thinking about it…)

A smile formed on my lips as I recalled the Spirit God’s dumbfounded expression.

Kate: Heh, hehe… Wait, why am I laughing. I thought I was about to die.

I glared at Roger, but he just smiled and propped himself up against the windowsill. 

Roger: Sorry, sorry. But the way you handled self-defense techniques honestly had me impressed. Not to mention you secretly studying medicine. So Kate, close your eyes.

Kate: …Don’t do anything weird, okay?

I closed my eyes after that warning.

…Then, I felt fingers touching my neck.

(Lace? It feels like a thin tie…but it’s nice to the touch)

Roger: You can open your eyes now.

Kate: …

I slowly opened my eyes.

Roger: …

Through the reflection of his amber eyes, I saw myself wearing a lovely choker.

Kate: This is…

Roger: A collar of course. You’ve now been promoted from dogsbody to pet. Congrats.

[harrypotterfuryroad]

What was your journey with all this? Did you at one point blindly agree and then learn new things that changed your mind (like I did) or were you skeptical from the start?

so i was never all in, but i had plenty of friends that were, and when it first started taking off in my social circles (2013ish) i tried my best to keep up with the lingo and be supportive. after all there's a lot of stuff i know i don't understand and who am i to discredit people's lived experiences? my degrees are all in biology so i never bought into the "humans can change sex actually" line, but if the wishful thinking made someone's life easier then sure fine i guess.

the cracks first started to show for me when nonbinary started popping up as a concept. broadly i understood what it was trying to do, but my two instant questions were "isn't everyone a little masculine and a little feminine?" and "if people are uncomfortable with being sorted into box A or box B, how does building box C help them?" i kept asking (out of genuine curiosity) and no one could give me an answer that made sense. obviously i could rattle off now about how this is because the whole thing is built on stereotypes but i was still trying to smile and nod my way through it at the time

my time in my phd program really solidified things for me for a couple reasons. like obv it overlapped with the general rise to prominence of all of this so it was kinda hard to miss, but also i was in an area with a really strong gay community so i got to see firsthand how it took root and grew from there. i saw a prominent local lesbian activist get ousted from my city's lgbt council for butting heads with a tim, and i saw the gradual shift from gay men being super comfortable playing around with the boundaries of dress and behavior to continuous questioning if someone is "one of the dolls" now because he wore a dress once

but also my phd was specifically about a lot of the issues that pop up in this whole debate, like social stress, adolescent development, sex differences in adulthood, and even a little bit about how social media is replacing normal social interaction but isn't meeting the same needs, so i'm watching all this happen while i'm reading papers from as early as the 70s that are basically predicting these exact patterns (then covid hit and amplified everything i was already seeing)

basically i just got more comfortable recognizing when someone is scientifically illiterate but really good at projecting confidence. i had a couple friends who were on lupron (for its on-label use, not as a puberty blocker) and each one had a terrible time, with really intolerable side effects. i looked into it more and it turns out these side effects are really common, which made me think this is a drug that made it through clinical trials but hadn't really taken off commercially so the company is trying to clean up its image or find a new market for it (something we were trained to notice in my phd program). then the drug started getting touted as safe and reversible for kids, and i just finally let myself feel comfortable getting angry about that. if you're saying this drug is safe, you're either lying or uninformed. lupron is the same story as viagra (where its more well-known use wasn't its initial intended use) but with all the leverage of the biggest social justice movement of the day, and it doesn't take much to recognize that without that clout there's no way to positively spin the junk data it's producing

other things i looked into more where the party line falls apart as soon as you screen out the spin: the trans murder rate, the trans suicide rate, prevalence and mechanisms of DSDs, the impact of adolescent testosterone levels on adult physical performance, neurological correlates of gender identity, and what a chromosome is

[splendsay]

COD Fic // Callsign: Sunshine // Chapter 10: Father's Daughter

hello hi yes more angsty hand holding in this chapter UR WELCOME I had to do a lil bit o' research for this one to make sure all my i's were dotted n' shit, so I am hopeful everything comes across in a way that tracks with reality as much as possible and it all makes sense and also that u love it and honestly if u don't that's really none of my business

Callsign: Sunshine // Chapter 10 // Father's Daughter

.................................................................. CWs: Explicit language, vague mentions of past trauma and recovery, descriptions of guns

Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, Reader (You), Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

Chapter Excerpt:

"You won't find it anywhere. It doesn't exist."

Soap frowns. "What d'you mean?"

You stare at them -- these men you hardly know. They seem so earnest. You hate that. You hate that you only have one thing to offer them -- a measly supply of information relative to your crazed scientist father's end-of-life havoc-wreaking. 

You tighten your grip on Ghost's fingers, and he runs a comforting thumb along your pinky.

"Toward the end... My father...he got more and more erratic. His behaviors, his decisions. They didn't make sense. He wasn't himself."

Gaz leans forward on his elbows, nudging his bowl to the side. "In what way?"

"He stopped taking my calls--"

"Because you were discharged?"

You try not to feel the sting of that word on someone else's tongue, but it's hard. Even after all this time. 

"Partially, maybe," you ponder. "But he'd been deteriorating even before that. I'd thought he was just manic -- obsessed with the task at hand. That wasn't entirely out of the ordinary. But he was taking shortcuts he wouldn't normally. He told me one day that..." You trail off. The memory is like a bloodstain. 

"Dad...dad, slow down."

"It's the breakthrough of a century, Sunny," your father speaks to you through rough, choppy pants, as though he's got blades in his lungs. He's been chain-smoking again.

"This...this will be my legacy," he goes on. "Everything I've worked for, everything I've done. Nothing will top this. It's perfect -- it's the perfect specimen, I know it is."

"Dad, what about trials?"

"I don't fucking need trials! We'll go strai--"

"But, you're pre-clinical, you can't proceed on humans without testing the potential implicatio--"

"Who the fuck do you work for, the FDA? I don't have to do shit!"

"But the ethics of jumping straight to--"

Your father's voice is as cold as you've ever heard it when he cuts you off again. "Integrity without knowledge is weak and useless, Sunny. You know this."

There's a momentary, bitter pause as you digest his words. Words you know, words he's recited to you a hundred times. "Dad," you plead. "There's anoth--"

"Goodbye, Sunny."

The line goes dead.

The sensation of Ghost squeezing your knee again brings you back to the present.

..................................................................... Links to: Spotify Playlist Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10

.................................................................

"Integrity without knowledge is weak and useless, and knowledge without integrity is dangerous and dreadful." - Samuel Johnson (1709 - 1784), English Author, Poet, and Literary Critic and Writer

[arealphrooblem]

A Lost Cause Part 2

Synopsis: The trusted keeper of all the Heroes' secrets, Civilian's existence is kept a tightly guarded secret itself. So how did the villain find her? And how will she withstand the attempts of his scientist to break her open and discover those secrets himself?

CW: nonconsensual drugging, medical whump, medical experimentation, needles/IV insertion, mentions wounds from torture, torture recovery, captivity

The anticipation of what might happen each time he walked into the room was almost worse than actual torture. His words ran on a loop in her head as she dozed in and out of deep sleep.

I am dying to create the tools that will break you open.

But each time he visited, he did nothing but check vitals, change bandages, survey her progress, feed her. Slowly she worked her way up from broth to solid food, from sleeping most of the day to sleeping at night, from needing a catheter to walking to the bathroom herself once the bottoms of her feet were healed (and that was not a fun day, no sir).

The scientist refused to answer her questions outright unless she offered up answers of her own. Each day they ended in a stalemate, which he seemed to find amusing.

He refused even his name. Eventually she just started calling him the doctor, because he treated her like one. Despite her captivity, despite the ominous warning Vanderbilt gave her in the interrogation room, despite her overwhelming vulnerability, he treated her with polite and patient professionalism.

She tried to give him the same courtesy. Whatever his future plans were, he had given her the space and time to heal back to full strength. She would make sure he regretted that. But first she had to look cooperative and weak.

A few days after shedding both the catheter and the bandages on her feet and thighs, the doctor strolled in not with his usual stethoscope, but with a clipboard and a pen.

Her gut did not like that.

“Your recovery is chugging along quite spectacularly,” he said, clicking the pen. “Which means we are almost ready to start the clinical trials. Of course, before I give you anything, I will need you to answer a few questions about your medical and family history.”

“Clinical trials for what?” she asked, feeling like she swallowed a stone.

“For my experiments, of course,” he said, as if it were obvious. “Why did you think I’ve been helping you recover? Pity? The goodness of my heart?”

“What experiments?” she demanded.

“Oh I have several in mind for you. But first, a few questions.”

“Sure, of course,” she said, deeply scathing. “Let’s make it easier for you to torture me. I’ll jump right on that.”

“You should, if you want greater chances of survival. I need to know your allergies, cancer risks, medications you’ve been on, previous surgeries, or else I could accidentally kill you. You’re a very special experiment. I’d rather not lose you so soon to such a preventable cause.”

It made her blood run cold, the casual way he voiced her probable death, as if  he equated it with the disappointment of prematurely expired raspberries. An inconvenience, but there’s always more.

The worst part was that he had a point. What would be the purpose of her team rescuing her in a blaze of glory if she had died of anaphylactic shock?

So through gritted teeth, she answered all of his medically relevant questions. He wrote each down dutifully on his clipboard.

“And your name?” he asked finally.

She pursed her lips into a thin line and glared at him. He nodded.

“Not today, then. No worries. That will be the first thing you give me with the success of my first experiment.”

A knot formed in her stomach. “What’s the first experiment?” she couldn’t help but ask.

He smiled enigmatically. “You’ll find out when the time comes.”

She waited a few minutes after the door shut before she tip-toed to the window. The only thing she could see outside was a sheer cliff and water for miles. Probably the ocean, but she couldn’t open the window to tell. It was nailed shut.

Wherever she was, it looked far from civilization. Maybe that was why, after what had to be at least a month if not more, that her team hadn’t found her yet. They were city people. Superheros rarely had to venture into the rural countryside, let alone a place this remote.

Such reassurances did not cure the unease in the back of her mind that something didn’t add up.

Now that she had recovered, fatigue did not weigh her down so much and boredom began to creep in it’s place. The doctor offered her a handful of novels, mostly pulp scifi and dystopian literature. She read them and re-read them so often she could quote passages from each one. When the doctor finally appeared in her room with a small, rolling table of syringes and an IV needle, the jolt of adrenaline was almost euphoric in the face of the mind numbing monotony of her days.

“You seem eager for our first experiment,” the doctor said with a bemused quirk of his lips.

“Ecstatic,” she deadpanned, ignoring the jolt in her heart. “I can’t wait for you to kill me with whatever ungodly chemical is in that.”

He chuckled, pushing the cart next to her bed.  “You’re right in that God has nothing to do with what I create. But it is not my goal to kill you —  the opposite in fact. I try to limit risks as much as possible. There is only one you, after all.”

“Is that supposed to be reassuring?”

“Is it not?” It was almost comical how he blinked at her in innocent confusion.

She just glared at him in return, which he cheerfully ignored as he slipped the latex gloves on with a snap. He even hummed a little as he pulled open the packaging for the IV needle and the alcohol wipe.  

Meanwhile her gut churned and frothed in horrible anticipation. She had gone through literal torture but this scared her more. When knives or brands or electric cattle prods came out, at least she knew what they did. No one knew what would happen as a result of this experiment, not even him. At least the goal of torture was to keep you alive as long as possible. These experiments could kill her. These could be her last living moments.

Fear tainted her every breath but just as she did in the face of her torturers, she refused to let it show on her face. Instead she stared resolutely out the window, at the glint of the water in the sunlight.

“Deep breath,” he murmured just before she felt the sharp pain of the IV needle.

Her gaze darted to him, drawn like a magnet to the sight of him tapping the air bubbles from the syringe. Nausea roiled inside her.  She fought hard against the urge to rip the IV out before he could inject the serum. Instead, she could only watch in horrified resignation as it flowed through the IV drip.

“And now we wait,” he said, flashing her that polite smile, as if they were sitting in a doctor’s office.

He removed his dark tinted glasses and sat down at the love seat.

“We wait?” she cried. “Wait for what?”

The anticipation of the IV alone nearly drove her mad and now this?

He shrugged. “Ideally your mind should relax into an altered state where you forget you’re not supposed to keep your secrets and you tell me whatever information I desire. However, that didn’t work well back with Vanderbilt and I’m not expecting much success this time. I just want to see how you react to these sorts of chemicals.”

“So you’re just fucking around with my brain?”

“In a manner of speaking, I suppose.” He crossed his legs and tapped his thumbs on his knees, the picture of nonchalance. She never wanted to hit him so much.

“What if it does nothing? What if you failed?”

“Failure is just important data I didn’t have before. I’m not afraid of failure.”

You should be she thought bitterly.

But of course it wasn’t his life on the line.

When the effects hit her, it wasn’t nothing. All the muscles in her body locked up and spasmed. She could do nothing but writhe in the bed and scream. It felt worse than all her other torture combined.

By the time she finally blacked out, she couldn’t scream anymore.

[sergeantsporks]

Dadrius Week 2024 Day 7: Relax

“It hurts worse if you tense, you know. Relax.”

Hunter flinched. “Sorry.”

Amy gave him an amused look. “You’re fine. Are you sure you don’t want to be—”

“I spent enough time unconscious.”

“Alright, alright, as long as you’re sure you can hold still. I am numbing your arm, though.”

Hunter watched her unblinkingly while she poured a numbing potion on his shoulder, guiding it with magic to encircle his arm. She held it there until the potion turned from a light blue to a dark green, and Hunter’s arm seemed to turn into deadweight on his body.

Amy swabbed his arm, clucking her tongue while she cleaned out the wound. “You’re lucky this isn’t infected to high heaven—did you shovel dirt directly into your open wound?”

“No.” But being in a couple of explosions and being tossed around a collapsed building like a ragdoll probably hadn’t helped. He looked away. Whatever status his arm was under, Darius definitely had the worst of the two of them. Hunter had barely even seen him before a gaggle of healers had whisked him away. “I guess Darius and I are lucky Eda came after us so easily. We… might not have gotten here in time without her, you know.”

Amy chuckled. “Well, sure, I know. Who do you think sent her after you?”

Hunter had almost had a reply ready for her, but the last sentence seemed to take him out like a well-placed blow to the kneecaps, and instead, he gasped for a reply. “I—wha—you sent her after us?”

“Of course I did.”

“Why? How did you know we were in trouble?”

“I didn’t know you both were in trouble. But you missed your appointment this morning.”

“I—sorry?”

“You missed your appointment this morning.”

Hunter blinked. How had she gone from him missing his appointment to knowing she needed to call Eda in?

Amy must have noticed the confusion on his face, because she put the swab down, moving so that she could face Hunter directly. “The ex-head of the abomination coven brought you in with a wound obviously made by an abomination. And then you didn’t show for your follow-up appointment. I didn’t know the two of you been kidnapped, but I suspected something might be wrong. So I… got in contact with the most powerful witch I could think of.”

Her explanation slammed into Hunter’s brain, burning some strange new feeling in his head. She had worried Darius was hurting him on purpose. She’d thought about him beyond when he come in and out of her clinic. Amy—a complete stranger—had worried that someone was hurting him. She’d noticed something was wrong and had worried someone was hurting him. Even though she’d been completely wrong, and Darius hadn’t hurt him of his own free will, just the fact that she’d noticed made Hunter’s lungs seize up.

“Oh,” he managed to squeak, “Okay.”

Amy didn’t go back to his wound, instead fidgeting uncertainly. “Ah—is everything alright? He’s in the other room, probably still unconscious, and I won’t tell him a single word you say. But—you are safe?”

“Yes.”

The word fell out of Hunter’s mouth with absolute certainty. Even after the last couple of days, even after the mind control and the way Darius’ voice had been used to manipulate him, he still believed that. It had taken time to realize—months and months of trial and error on both he and Darius’ part. But even with a puppeted Darius, he felt safer than he had with Belos. At least he knew that Darius would make an effort to keep him from getting hurt.

“If you say so. But if you ever don’t feel safe… I guess I don’t know that I could do much against Mr. Deamonne if he decided to attack, hah, but don’t ever hesitate to come here and ask for help, okay? Even if I’m not here, one of my colleagues will be.”

Hunter nodded, looking away from her for the first time. A flush crept over his face and ears. Even though he didn’t believe for a minute that he’d need to come here if Darius did turn on him—in that incredibly unlikely event, he’d go to Camila first, and Eda after that—it was… nice… to have the option. To know there was somewhere to go if he needed it.

“Right, well, anyway. Hey—you seem to be doing a lot better today, energy-wise anyway, I think we can get this mostly healed, and then you’ll just need one more appointment.” Amy’s nose crinkled. “Partly for the arm, and partly for all your brand-new injuries. We can get rid of the sling, but if you try to lift anything heavier than a pillow, you’re going to mess it up again. Understood?”

“Understood. Um—Darius—is he going to be—”

“He’ll be alright. He’ll need more appointments, though. Bones are a beast to heal, even when there’s only one broken.” Amy shook her head. “Is there anyone else in your home? Between your injuries and his, I’m not sure the two of you should try to take on living by yourselves.”

“We can probably ask Eber to check in on us. Or Luz and Eda. Or—” Hunter’s spine stiffened. “Steve! Is he alright?! We left him tied to a tree; did anyone find him?!”

“Oh, yes. When Mr. The Hunstman tracked you two down, they found him first. He’s quite alright, if shaken.” Amy packed a fresh dressing into Hunter’s wound and wrapped new bandages around it. “Don’t get it wet. I’ll see you in two days, yes?”

“I’ll be there this time,” Hunter promised.

Darius already waited for him in the lobby, sitting in a wheelchair with a distinct air of dazed grouchiness about him. Hunter flinched. Plaster encased both his legs, and one of his arms. A dozen more bandages covered smaller cuts all over his face and unbroken arm.

“Hey,” Hunter mumbled, guilt tugging at his gut, “How, uh…”

“Terrible,” Darius mumbled, “I have to stay in this wretched chair until the healers say otherwise.”

Luz waved at Hunter from a lobby chair. “Hey! Are you two going to stay with us until you’re better?”

“Absolutely not,” Darius muttered, and before Hunter could ask how the palistrom tree was, or bring up what Amy had said about needing help, abomination swirled around he and Darius, washing away into their familiar home.

Darius summoned an abomination, and it halfheartedly pushed him towards the stairs before collapsing. Darius groaned, his face peaky. “Ah. Should have guessed… Hm. Help me onto the couch? Well—wait—the healer said—”

Hunter slung Darius’ good arm over his shoulder and hauled him up, moving him quickly to the more comfortable seat before he could finish the reminder that Hunter shouldn’t lift anything heavy. Darius sank into the couch with a sigh.

“That’s better.”

“I’m sorry,” Hunter burst out.

“Hm? What for?”

He couldn’t be serious. “For this!” Hunter gestured at Darius. “You should have saved yourself! You should have teleported out of there!”

Darius leaned back. “I told you already. I’d rather save you. I may not be fond of this situation, but I’d be entirely less fond of the alternative, where I have to bury you.” His words came out snappish, and he closed his eyes. “Let’s just… try to take it easy, alright? We can talk about it later.”

Hunter’s stomach growled, and he flushed. A terrible time for an interruption. But a ghostly smile twitched across Darius’ face.

“It’s been a while since either of us have eaten, I think. Tell you what. Let’s order some food tonight. We can watch something on the crystal ball. Maybe even make some popcorn. Just… relax for a bit before we do anything else, alright? It’s been a terrible day for both of us."

Hunter sighed. He didn’t think the tension tying his shoulders in knots would go away any time soon, but he could try. For Darius.

Darius picked the food, but Hunter picked the crystal ball channel, and despite himself, he felt the guilt and anger and pain ebb away in the glowing blue light of the crystal ball, accompanied by a soothing voice talking about the natural eating habits of Slitherbeasts on the Knee, as compared to their more temperate cousins on the Toes.

Darius’ good arm dropped around his shoulder, and Hunter instinctively snuggled into his warmth, careful not to jostle him.

“I didn’t want to lose you.”

Hunter felt Darius’ chest reverberate with the words, and he sighed. “I know. I don’t want to lose you, either.”

Xxx

“I’m sorry for hurting you.” Darius’ hand fluttered over Hunter’s wounded arm. “When I came to in the forest and I knew it was you… I was furious.”

Hunter’s face tilted up, the light of the crystal ball flickering in his eyes. “At me?”

“No.” Darius thought about it for a moment and conceded, “Well, yes. But mostly at myself. I… well, I told you I was happy you’d saved me, but you shouldn’t have been there. That wasn’t true.”

Darius half-expected a snarky “which part?” in answer, but Hunter just kept watching him, quietly waiting for his next words.

“The truth is, I wasn’t happy you’d saved me. Because doing it hurt you. I hurt you. I thought I would always have one up on Belos in that way, but… and I know I couldn’t have stopped myself, I know I didn’t do it on purpose. You don’t have to tell me. But…” Darius chuckled. “You know, on the Day of Unity, we failed because of me. I could have wiped out every coven head and let Eda’s curse finish corrupting the draining spell. But doing so… it would have cost me Eber. In a moment where the entire world was on the line… I threw it all away for one of my friends. Even knowing that Eber would die in moments anyway from the spell, I had to postpone his death as long as I could, even if it killed everyone on the Isles.”

Darius shrugged as best he could with one arm. “I suppose I’m just trying to say, I’ve never been able to put the greater good above those I care about. I’m glad I was saved, but I was absolutely furious it was you who did it. A hundred others could have tried and failed to stop me, and I would not have felt as terribly injuring all of them as I did finding out I’d hurt you. Perhaps that makes me selfish, or a terrible person. Certainly I think it should make me reevaluate my position as a leader. But I believe at the least, it explains why I would save you, even at the cost of either of us escaping.”

Xxx

The same sort of feeling Hunter had experienced when Amy had worried Darius was hurting him returned. Of course by now he’d figured out that Darius cared about him. He’d figured out that Darius would do his best to protect him, that Darius wouldn’t hurt him if he could help it.

That was still a far cry from “I’d let the world burn if it meant I saved you.”

The thought of it burned a warm hole in Hunter’s chest. Maybe he was a terrible person for how good the sentiment made him feel. But still, he basked in that feeling, completely unable to speak until Darius cleared his throat.

“…Hunter?”

“Okay,” Hunter murmured quietly, “I understand.” He took a deep breath. “But Darius—I was angry, too. You hid something dangerous from me. If I’d known that you were still in danger of being possessed again, if I’d known your magic wasn’t working right, if I’d known that our sigils were activated—I went with you because I trusted you. Because I wanted to believe you weren’t going to leave me behind. If I’d known what was going on, you wouldn’t have had to make that choice to save me. If you’d told me why you were sending me away, I… well, I wouldn’t have liked it, but at least I wouldn’t have gone off with the titan trapper you the moment you showed up.”

Hunter looked up at Darius, desperate to make him understand, half certain he was about to destroy that warm feeling in his chest forever. “Belos attacking me never hurt half as bad as the lying. Not that you’re like him!” he assured Darius quickly, “I understand why you lied. I just thought you should know that it wasn’t the injuries that hurt. I’m used to it, and I knew they weren’t your fault. But knowing you were shutting me out, knowing you were lying to me? I know we haven’t always gotten along in the past, but I thought by now you knew you could trust me.”

Now it was Darius’ turn to sit in silence. The only indicator he wasn’t asleep was his hand absentmindedly brushing Hunter’s hair. Just when Hunter was starting to worry that he’d gone too far by comparing Darius to Belos in any way, the bigger man heaved a sigh. “Alright, Hunter. I understand. Next time—and I hope there never is a next time—I will do better to keep you in the loop.” He gently pushed Hunter’s head down, rubbing his knuckles against his hair. “But you need to stay at school when you’re supposed to and not go charging off into dangerous situations. You get to be a normal teenager now, go do that.”

“Fine, fine,” Hunter grumbled, but he didn’t shove Darius’ hand away, “But you have to take a break from being Trusted Leader of the World sometimes. Eda and Eber play hooky all the time, you should give it a shot.”

“Are we going to keep adding on conditions? Because I have dozens ready and waiting for you, little prince.” Darius leaned backwards, slinging his good arm over the edge of the couch. “Or, consider, we can leave it at that, relax, and find out more about slitherbeasts.”

Hunter fell back with him, letting Darius’ arm settle back around his shoulders. “No more conditions,” he agreed with a yawn, “sounds like the best plan to me.”

[icu-fetish]

Test subject Jane. Part 1.

After the surgery Jane was returned to her ICU room. There was no doubt that she would be in a coma for a long time. And when her vital signs noticeably worsened, she was immediately prepared for a long stay in intensive care.

Iris finished adjusting the new parameters of the ventilator and approached her boss. For several minutes they just looked at the patient connected to the ventilator. The doctor broke the silence.

"I see tears in your eyes. Iris, you shouldn't blame yourself for everything. In our work, such mistakes sometimes occur. However, our ultimate goal certainly justifies such risks."

Iris kept her eyes on the patient on the bed and answered in a trembling voice.

"All previous clinical trials of the drug were successful. I still don't know why such complications arose. The patient has been in a coma for more than a week. It is likely that she will stay in this state much longer. She needs artificial ventilation, so a tracheostomy was performed on the test subject."

The doctor looked at her colleague with obvious respect and spoke quietly.

"You did a great job. I am sure that you will find a solution and be able to stabilize the condition of the subject. I'm so glad you're no longer doing experiments on yourself."

It was important for Iris to hear these words from a more experienced colleague. She looked gratefully at the doctor and confidently answered.

“Thank you, Dr. Cohen. I will not let you down."

The doctors left the room together, leaving the comatose patient alone.

[stevenbasic]

Growing into the Job, Post 351: That was Then, This is Now, p3 (Gianna Interlude)

Jesus Christ look at this place. I can’t believe what a fucking mess it is. When was the last time I cleaned? The thing is I just don’t care anymore. My life was once neat and orderly but it all started slowly falling apart the moment I got put on this project. I really can’t fucking believe it. What’s happening to me?!? I used to be a smart, driven chick, headed for great things. Now…it’s like I can barely think straight! All I can think about is him. It’s like my brains are now all in my tits…which, to be honest, should make me a fucking genius.

I’ve been with Evolution for a few years now. I was hired onto the Quality Control team, and now I’m a Project Manager. The gig looked good, originally, they sounded serious. Well, they are serious. They’re fucking really serious. They seriously have made my life suck.

Okay, so it seemed great: I got to try out this new Product they wanted to push out. They made me the clinical coordinator, but I also got to be a study subject myself. It sounded so fucking awesome. This shit was going to make me a fucking queen, after all this went down. They were using it, in these trials, for like politicians, and CEOs, women of influence, girls who were in important positions. To make approval easier they presented it to the FDA as an OTC (over the counter, of course), non-Rx (nonprescription, duh) supplement which is like a joke, because it’s a fucking bioweapon. They had the right people in the right places and they somehow got it through, approved for OTC. But in the end it’s not going to be available for just anybody. It was going to make women they choose - like me, if it worked - better. Better at what they do. Better at meeting their challenges. Better at what they need to be to help us fucking win.

I don’t totally understand all the science, but I understand some of it (and all the witchy stuff I only half-believe). I do know that it’s next-level shit and totally sketchy from a safety-profile standpoint. It was all to help ‘the movement' though, and blah blah blah, of course I’m all for that, who isn’t? So, yeah, I’d take the trial. It sounded great. And it’d make me better at my job; that’s why they wanted me on it in the first place.

It was just some shots, and I knew that if this panned out I’d be, like, ascending. Like I’d heard others have, like the chicks I’d seen in the clinics. When all this is said and done I’d get my own team with the company, fuckloads of salary, and a promotion up and out of this bogus job.

They just need to wait with me, they said. They need me to run this clinical trial, but not affect it. So I can’t show up in person. I can’t have my influence change what’s going on in there. In fact, they wanted to keep me isolated and out of the offices so I didn’t affect anyone there, or out in public. Like, I can’t even see my own family. They’re still all back East so it doesn’t really matter. I don’t really want to see them anyway.

So I’ve basically been in quarantine, alone, for like, months now. Sure it sounded great at first - I get to work from home, and I get to set my own schedule. I get everything delivered, you know, food and whatever. I don’t have to deal with any of the fuckwads out there in the world. But I’m so fucking bored. Months of this. Months, while life goes on in the outside world. The elections and all that? I just ended up celebrating here by my own fucking self.

I mean, yeah, I’m working for a good cause. But jesus, look the fuck at me now! I was always a busty girl, but I’ve gone from a double-E to an - I dunno, double-G - to whatever the hell I am now. Fucking huge is what it is.

Why? Because the dude, this doctor likes…no, loves…no, worships tits. Because women with big tits get him to do what they want, I guess. Sound familiar? That’s fucking men in general, but I need this specific one to do what I tell him to. My only interaction with the guy is, like, here and there on video conference calls, and all he sees of me is like from the waist up. So, my ass is still my plain old ass, but now my tits are like a porn star’s. And they keep getting bigger! And that’s not the worst of it! Now he’s all I freakin’ think about! I feel like a goddamn braindead lovesick bimbo mommygirlfriend sometimes and-

Gah!

I mean, I know I’m no different than other girls. Women everywhere want this sort of thing now. A shorter boyfriend, a weaker guy, a dependent husband, all vulni- or whatnot. The shorter, weaker and more dependent the better. We all want them to need us for money and safety, for warmth and nutrition. For everything. It’s just fucking sexy. We’d love to be able - if we could - to pick them up like children, like infants, hold them in our hands or haha nnnngh stick them down our dresses and hide them in our tits. Honestly we all want our men to be like little embryos. If we could shove them up into our wombs, we fucking would. It’s, like, nobody’s really talking about it out in the open, but it’s normal now, to feel this way. We’re all looking for short, weak, totally and utterly dependent men.

But, fuck, this product has got me. I don’t want it to be just anyone. I want it to be HIM. I think it’s because I don’t see any other guys It’s imprinted him on me. And since my pheromones can’t get to him he doesn’t feel the same He’s like enamored/suckled onto this Melissa person and it fucking burns my hooch to think about. Jealousy is not a good color on me, well on anyone I realize, but I can’t fucking help it I want him to nnnnnnngh fucking shrink for me so I can shove him into my tits, up my cunt, into my bra. I want to make him just stick to me and I’ll fucknig absorbbbb him ahhhhhggg 

fuck.

Get your shit together, Gianna. You’ve got a job to do. Back to work…

…but just imagine.

===============================================

Want to know how the ‘Product' got past the FDA? Read 'Seeking Approval', available on my Patreon.

And thank you thank you RiF for the pro-bono editorial work on this one. 

[strqyr]

Tbh of all the stories in Fairytales of Remnant, I think The Infinite Man is the most fascinating one bc it's such a good read into Oz's belief system (old and new), what he's asking for now, and overall character. Granted, all of the stories are, I believe, good reads into Ozpins character, cause the whole book seems to be one big character study, but The Infinite Man is so INTERESTING.

I think it's set before Oz found out Salem is unkillable and thus before he gave up on his task. And that's really interesting bc you kinda get an insight into how he thought during this time period, seemingly only doing it because it would allow him to rest and that it was the 'only thing' he was here for, aka the only thing he's worth without Salem (It's mentioned that they will "make way for the final judgement" and that, as their message spread through Remnant, "This was what he was here for, he thought. Perhaps, in the end, he would be able to rest." <- probably lying to himself, he wasn't here for the task, he was here for Salem. Without her, what is he worth?).

Also the Circle is repeatedly stated to be a mistake he made, and if he was Still working towards his task, I'm pretty sure he'd say it was his greatest achievement, not a huge mistake. Also, he acknowledges that his task isn't what people want by including in that it (at least likely) WASN'T Salem who sent people to kill him ("Did someone send you to kill me?" He asked through gritted teeth. "Your mere existence makes you a target.").

And. I just. Gestures wildly at this: "I can't help what you've heard about me." The man shot the woman a pointed look. "But in my experience, Gods are far less than the stories told about them. I assure you, I am no God, and I don't want to fight you."

ALSO loudly gestures at "Some people still worship Gods, while others insist we must be our own salvation. But the world doesn't work in absolutes, so why can't it be both?". Oz knows the world isn't black or white, he knows Gods are fallible and imperfect, and he knows humanity can accomplish great things and replace the Gods with their own creations and ingenuity [gestures at The Gift of the Moon as well as The Infinite Man].

Also. Points at Ozpins notes at the end of The Infinite Man. He's pretty blatantly asking for forgiveness, for hurting Salem and for getting people killed during his old crusade. He's trying to say that he doesn't believe in that anymore, that he knows he did wrong; he had good intentions, but he was a fool and still got people hurt.

Sorry I'm clinically insane over Ozpin. I'm gonna turn this into a post

honestly i have nothing to add to this, gotta just appreciate how the whole idea behind the fairy tale book is oz not only making a collection of fairytales that's included in the curriculum of the academies, but getting some of his friends / colleagues to record some of them as well, and then the whole thing is just. oz telling on himself in multitude of ways lmao love that for him ✌

even in the introduction of the book he's like "i have discovered in this lifelong pursuit that if you wish to fully appreciate a story, you should consider its source and attempt to unravel and understand the storyteller's intentions. why did they tell this story? why now? yes, stories may be shared for entertainment alone; however, they also can disguise lessons, moral guidance, important historic records, moon-shattering revelations—and even dire warnings of hidden dangers in the world and difficult trials yet to come." <- dude's literally telling everyone to bring an extra oxygen supply because we're going Deep with this one!!

[beatrixstonehill2]

"Look at how big my titties are getting.... so full of milk! I look like a regular breeding cow already. It's so wonderful seeing my pretty little boobs start to get so heavy and swollen. Pregnancy is amazingly fun! I was a bit worried when my doctor said he signed me up for this! I mean, I've been living as a girl for a little while now and my transition has been going super well. But as soon as I turned 18 he was like, "Emily, now that you're old enough I think you're ready to start carrying a few kids, don't you?" I was like "Uhhhh, sure?" And he had me sign all these wavers, despite me not 100% knowing what I was getting myself into!

Soooo, apparently I was entered into a trial to be continually impregnated on high doses of fertility drugs for a decade. My paperwork says that 'the patient's uterus is expected to produce a minimum of 100 kids in that time.' The minimum!? Ummmm...... wow. But I'm not too surprised. I'm only like six months along and I look huge. It's definitely making playing field hockey a lot more challenging, but as expected we are college girls now so over half of us are pregnant anyway. So I guess it's not a huge deal but when the other girls check me or tackle me I feel like my belly's gonna pop like a balloon, which would be fun to see, I suppose.... Hasn't happened yet though!

So, not only was I forcibly entered into this clinical breeding trial or whatever but I realized the procedure was pretty quick.... I asked my surgeon and I'm not going on Rocket, so I'm not giving birth urethrally, and they didn't hook my birth canal up anywhere, so I won't be giving birth anally like a lot of trans girls..... I decided to ask if they intended to do a new surgery and they said no. So I asked how am I giving birth? The people running the trial said a small device is hooked to my womb, when my babies are ready it'll emit a signal, telling them where I am.....

Guys, get this: I won't know when it's going off. They said they only perform the retrieval between 9-5 Mon-Fri. So I'll be at school or out, going about my day and they'll come by. Allegedly they'll have me take off my clothes wherever I am, they'll smear my belly with numbing cream, and..... perform a C-Section no matter where I am. College? A crowded mall? A movie theater? I'll have no choice, they'll just rip off my clothes, prep me, and open my belly like it's a casual, minor test they're performing, like drawing blood or weighing me or something. Then they'll take my babies to the usual government-owned civilian living centers all these babies are raised at by all these government-appointed breeders who manage to make it to thirty. I might end up being a full-time mom like that one day, if I'm lucky and I don't pop! So.... I have public C-Sections to look forward to! Wonder if it happens even if some random guy is fucking me as I try to go about my day? Wouldn't surprise me one bit.....

Guess I'm still glad I transitioned, even if being forced to have a uterus and pump out babies like a factory was not how I envisioned my twenties. No big deal, I guess. I love having this huge belly, and guys and girls go crazy about it! They go even crazier when they see I have a nice, thick cock between my legs, too.... I feel like it's getting even bigger lately, maybe it's just getting swollen because I jerk off so often? And every other person I run into gives it a few healthy tugs when they reach up my skirt or dresses..... Mmmmm, speaking of which I think I'm gonna put on a cute tiny dress and go out clubbing tonight. My poor pregnant body is just begging to be pounded by twenty or thirty cocks..... I'm sure my professors will understand if I'm late to class tomorrow!"

[thejaded0nes]

Chapter Two: Questionnaire

First | Last | Next

She looks at the doctor, a clear suspicion in her tone, “What are the side effects?” murmurs erupt as the makeshift convention begins to bicker. Quick to cut in, Dr Aceilia clears her throat and asks in response, “How do you mean?”

“You claim this to be some sort of miracle drug, capable of so much. Have there been any human clinical trials?” Her tone was one of annoyance at the perceived obviousness of her questions.

Aceilia cocks an eyebrow, “Not on any substantial level, not yet. Just a few case studies. Part of this talk's purpose is to see if anyone here would be interested in being a part of said trials.”

She scoffs, “How am I supposed to put my trust in that?” years of distrust begin boiling to the surface, “How can you stand up here and claim to have to fix all, after all the hoops I’ve had to jump through.” The tears were beginning to well. Aceilia was taken aback, she hadn’t expected to hit such a raw nerve.

“I think I may know how you feel,” she started slowly, “Believe me I’m more than familiar with the hoops we are required to jump through.” her own voice began to waver, “But please believe me when I say I do not plan to gate keep.” She clicked a button on the remote and the house lights went up. “I will be honest, there was Dr. Avie, my colleague. She’s one case we’re still trying to understand.”

“I’m sorry?” she flinched, partially because of the light, mostly aforementioned colleague, “What happened with Dr. Avie?”

“We honestly don’t quite know, at first things were as expected then her changes became more… abstract.” She shook her head, “We’re not even sure we could consider it a side effect, before we lost contact she wrote us a paper detailing how the sera-mones knew her better then herself.” tears began to well, “she said she was happy, happier than she’s ever been and I want to believe her, but I need to know for sure.”

The doctor wiped her face dry. “That’s why I brought you all here today, I would like to run trials in an attempt to understand the effects of this more thoroughly. If this can be a breakthrough for our community, then perhaps it's alright I lost a friend.” Her demeanor had all but dropped, whatever collected facade long since made way to an abject honesty. “If you would like to be a part of these trials please, collect a sheet on your way out, fill it in and send it back. We’ll send a journal for you to record your transition, and a dose of sera-mones of course.” She turned and left the stage, gesturing weakly at the table by the exit.

As the small group left, and a smaller group still collected papers from the table, the girl that asked the last question was left in the auditorium. She had been staring at the area where the doctor once stood, still processing all the information she had been given. Was she serious with the potential? Could this be the advancement in gender affirming care she claimed? What happened to Dr. Avie, and why did it not seem to worry her as much as she felt it should? All the questions and more began to roll in her head as she picked up the sheet and began to fill it in.

Name: Zoe Caelire

[demilypyro]

Okay since everyone is deciding to say "I'm not in optometry but-" I AM in optometry (optometry technician to be specific) and can give some advice about contact lenses.

First off, RCL (aka hard contact lenses) are only given out nowadays if you have SEVERE astigmatism. Idk what your prescription is, of course, but technology has come a very far way. Especially since you're an adult and your eyes aren't changing shape as much, it's much easier to fit you, and we can make custom lenses.

Additionally, I have never, not once, heard an optometrist say that contact lenses cover up oxygen to the eye because it's not true. Soft contact lenses (the type most people wear) are gas permeable, which is why we can measure eye pressure with them in.

Also, no, I have never seen someone have to work up to contacts in prescription. Not a thing, and it would be extremely expensive both for the doctor and patient for them to keep refracting and fitting you. A good optometrist will do as follows: you get an exam, they give you a starter prescription. They order you a singular pack of trial lenses- not a whole year, one pair- and see how they fit. Either the optometrist or a contact lens technician has a short appointment with you where they teach you how to put them in, take them out, and care for them. 1-3 weeks later you come in again to report how they feel. If you like them, you buy a supply. If you don't, they order you a new brand. At least at my clinic, we charge a $90 flat fee and we'll order as many trials as is needed until we find one at no extra cost. Make sure you know their policies first.

Contact lenses are not this terrifying thing your commenters are making it to be, and any good optometrist will be able to at least check if you're able to wear them.

Sweet, thanks for the info

[five-thousand-loaves-of-bread]

questions i want everyone who say “all ABA is abusive” to know how to answer—especially non ABA survivors:

to be fair! i 100% agree ABA can be very abusive. sure some of the field have changed many throughout the years, but much of the field has not. what each clinic bill under “ABA” may be vastly different, some may not even be ABA!

but i think there is more nuance to “all ABA is abusive and every parent who put child in ABA is abusive” conversation.

i believe you have to understand something to critique it.

these questions are largely targeted towards non ABA survivors because i see a lot of non ABA survivors regurgitating things from other non ABA survivors. these questions may be triggering for ABA survivors who have trauma from ABA.

i encourage non ABA survivors to use own words to answer these questions if possible.

so here goes:

1. what is ABA? what are its fundamental principles, and how it concretely achieve that?

for example, what are discrete trial training? what are naturalistic learning? give example of how that can look like between an ABA therapist & the receiver.

2. who is ABA targeted at?

because while autistics are targeted, there is often specific population of autistics. who are they? and ABA is also given to more than autistics. who are they?

3. what is abusive about ABA / how can ABA be abusive? can you name multiple reasons?

4. can you give concrete examples of that?

for example, the common saying ABA promotes masking. what does that look like between an ABA therapist & receiver?

5. can any ABA be done without that? if yes, what will that ABA look like? if no, why not?

6. goals of ABA, goals set for the ABA receiver. can they ever be beneficial? we’re talking solely about goals, we are setting side the methods to achieve those goals later.

if yes, what are some examples? if no, why not?

for example, masking again. the ability to mask, learning how to mask. for a white person? for a Black person? for other BIPOC?

7. can ABA (or anything!) be both beneficial and harmful? life changing and abusive? why or why not?

8. in current state of world,

because we can talk about “in an ideal world” all we want, but reality is ABA is happening right now, families are struggling right now.

8 a. what are some alternatives to ABA? are these resources as readily available as ABA?

think insurance coverage, governmental recognition, school coverage, clinician availability, cost, single parent status, location (esp rural areas and other less discussed countries), other marginalized identities

think… “levels of dysfunction” for lack of a better word. like a child with frequent violent destructive meltdowns. a child with violent “behaviors.”

if a parent put their child in these alternative services and not ABA, does the government recognize these alternative services as “intervention?” will child protective services or equivalent?

8 b. do these resources focus on the same/similar areas as ABA? idk how to phrase this question but hear me out. some ABA focuses on developing life skills & adaptive functioning skills (what are them?). do these services work on them, for example?

9. in a better world, what can be alternatives to ABA?

10. how may ABA look different for different populations? how may ABA expectations differ for different populations?

how may societal expectations differ for different populations? how may consequences of not fitting in the societal expectations differ for different populations?

a level 1 autistic? a level 3 autistic? a high support needs person who can’t independently do basic ADLs, who don’t understand safety? a nonspeaking person? someone with “problematic behaviors”? someone with motor troubles? a non autistic person with other developmental disabilities? someone with an intellectual disability or global developmental delay? kids? adults? BIPOC?

11. add on bc i suddenly remembered and am too lazy to re number the entire thing, are ABA and early intervention the same/similar or different things? explain. explain beyond target age groups, focus on what each service do.

who are eligible for early intervention? can you receive that without a diagnosis?

edit to add, 12. can ABA be reformed? why or why not?

finally, 13. have you ever talked to an ABA survivor about ABA? directly in a 1 on 1 conversation? group setting? or saw content by said ABA survivor about ABA? have you intentionally seeker out content by ABA survivors on ABA?

here are just questions on top of my head. i am sure i missed many.

again, these questions are not to convince you all ABA are actually not abusive (bc uh, i don’t believe that either), but to add nuance to “ABA = abuse” conversation so we can be better activists.

here is a post i wrote about bringing nuance to ABA

[ireton]

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DISCLAIMER: Please do your own research and come to your own conclusions.

When you tell someone a medicine for dogs cured your cancer, you better be ready for some skeptics, but Joe Tippens says it saved his life, and the lives of others.

Now, even cancer researchers are open to the possibility it might be true."My stomach, my neck, my liver, my pancreas, my bladder, my bones -- it was everywhere," Tippens said. Tippens said he was told to go home, call hospice and say his goodbyes two years ago. The doctors were unanimous, he was going to die of small cell lung cancer.

"Once that kind of cancer goes that far afield, the odds of survival are less than 1 percent, and median life expectancy is three months," Tippens said. Tippens said he went from 220 pounds to 110. "I was a skeleton with skin hanging off of it," he said. "It was difficult."

But that was January of 2017. Today, Tippens is very much alive and what he credits for his survival has doctors scratching their heads, and the rest of us raising eyebrows. "About half the people think I'm just crazy," he said. "And about half the people want to know more and dig deeper."

Tippens said he received a tip from a veterinarian, of all people. And in his desperation, he turned from people medicine to dog medicine. Specifically, something you give your dog when it has worms. "The truth is stranger than fiction, you know?" Tippens said, laughing. Just three months later, Tippens says, his cancer was gone.

"I'm usually skeptical, and I was and maybe still am about this one," said Stephen Prescott, president of the Oklahoma Medical Research Foundation. "But there's interesting background to this." Cancer researchers like Prescott are skeptical, but they also are not dismissing this anti-parasitic's potential. He says Tippens is not the first person to potentially benefit, and not the last.

"Scientists and many credible places have done work on this for years," Prescott said. But was it the de-wormer, or was it something else? Tippens took the dog medicine with daily vitamin E supplements and CBD oil. He was also taking an experimental cancer-fighting drug. But Tippens says out of the 1,100 patients on that clinical trial, he was the only one cleared of cancer.

Tippens says he was saved by the dog de-wormer and he plans to take it for the rest of his life. "My insurance company spent $1.2 million on me with traditional means before I switched to a $5 a week medicine that actually saved me," he said. Prescott says he's now working with Tippens to organize a case study.

"We're going to do it and see if we can confirm, in a very rigorous and clinical sort of way, that these patients had that kind of response," Prescott said. As for Tippens: "I've got over 40 success stories other than me," he said. He's sharing his story on an online blog that has been read more than 100,000 times. Most of the feedback is positive, or curious.

Some accuse Tippens of giving cancer patients false hope. "Oh, how do I answer that?" he sighed. "I mean, if I've saved one other person other than me, it's worth it to me." All we know for sure is that Tippens is alive. In time, perhaps we'll also know if this medicine made for man's best friend might also be man's newest cancer cure.

[spoopydooblr]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

stella's heart skips a beat.

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

"and are you taking medication?"

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

"and what is he taking?"

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

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

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

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

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

"stell!" he says, running towards her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"yeah."

"two?" he smiles wide.

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

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

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