#and some medical intervention. get that thing out of there safely

[vancilart]

mwa

[ms-demeanor]

fully understand and agree about reiki and prayer and herbs and the rest of that bullshit, but i'm a little confused as to how chiropractic care got lumped in with those

Chiropractors are quacks, full stop.

There is nothing that a chiropractor can do for you that a physical therapist couldn't do better or that a massage therapist wouldn't be able to assist with.

There are specific conditions that can cause joint subluxation, but unless you have one of them, your joints are probably perfectly fine where they are and if they are not that is something that would be better (and more safely) assessed by someone who is actually qualified to provide some variety of medical care (which chiropractors are not, they are licensed to provide chiropractic care, which is pseudoscience on your spine, which is a bad place to do pseudoscience). And if you do have those conditions you shouldn't let a chiropractor touch you with a ten foot pole because you are at even *more* risk of harm from spinal manipulation than the general population is.

When I was in college and didn't have health insurance and was working at a coffee shop I couldn't afford $150 out of pocket to go see a doctor, but I could afford $45 to see a chiropractor.

What the chiropractor didn't know - because she wasn't a doctor and didn't have the diagnostic tools for this kind of thing - was that I didn't have back pain because my spine was out of place, I had back pain because I had a bone tumor in my spine, and her adjustment fractured one of my lumbar vertebrae.

When I did get insurance I finally figured out what was wrong (after using a cane and dealing with excruciating back pain from my cracked spine I had to quit my job at the coffee shop because I couldn't reliable stand on shift) when I got an MRI. The pain was treated with muscle relaxants, oral steroids, and physical therapy, none of which would have broken my fucking back.

Chiropractic, even when practiced "competently" by an expert with the most modern and most rigorous scientific training available, is still more dangerous and less effective than other interventions. All of which is aside from the fact that there are a shitload of chiropractors out there who will claim to treat asthma and autism, which they can't do and are shitty for claiming to be able to do.

Top to bottom, all through its history, chiropractic is a scam that hurts more people than it helps and because of our fucked up medical care in the US specifically has been largely predatory on people who can't afford real treatment for their illnesses and injuries.

Also, if you are ever going to see a chiropractor - though i wish you wouldn't - never, ever, ever, EVER let them manipulate your neck. Chiropractic spinal manipulation of the neck can lead to severing the arteries in your neck, causing a stroke. This HAS killed people, and as long as chiropractors keep doing it, it will kill more people.

Fuck - and I cannot emphasize this enough - chiropractic.

[envysparkler]

au where the justice league is known and well established as Earth's official planetary defense system.  Batman was offered an invitation to join but he hissed at the idea of revealing his identity and said nope, you guys stay out of Gotham.  in return, the JL was like 'okay you can't leave Gotham then'.  for around a decade, Batman sticks to that rule, no real issues, but the JL gets bigger and bigger and it reaches a point that he knows, even with all his contingencies, he'll never be able to take them in a fight

Robin and Batman get into an argument because Robin wants to stretch his wings and Batman refuses to let him.  Robin leaves despite all of Batman's warnings and goes to NYC and cuts all contact.  a couple months later, there's a new hero who calls himself Nightwing who's on the JL.

Bruce freaks out and tries to call Dick, but Dick ignores all his calls.  Bruce ends up keeping tabs on him from afar, always worried.

fast forward to the new Robin.  this time, Bruce impresses from the beginning the importance of never leaving Gotham.  Jason agrees.  three years later, Jason leaves to Ethiopia, Batman follows, the Joker shows up.

it ends with JL intervention and a beaten Jason being taken away by Wonder Woman and the Joker taken away by the JL.  Bruce tries to infiltrate Themyscira, is caught, Diana snaps at him.  Bruce begs asks her to be able to speak to Jason.  Jason is visibly upset and doesn't want to talk to Bruce and tells him that Batman didn't save him and orders him to get out.  Bruce leaves, heartbroken.

a young boy observes a devastated Batman on the streets of Gotham and is determined to help him.  this time, Bruce impresses upon Tim the severity of the situation.  if he leaves Gotham the Justice League will get him.  Tim agrees to be very careful.  Damian shows up and for the first time in a long time, Bruce lets himself relax.

Bruce gets lost in time.  Tim has to leave Gotham to find the clues to help him, he stumbles upon the Titans who offer their help and a spot on their team.  once they find Bruce, Tim forces himself to leave with the Titans, knowing that at least Bruce and Damian will be safe.

Bruce is exhausted and hurt and upset.  he keeps losing children.

meanwhile, the JL is getting increasingly fed up about this brooding vigilante that treats his sidekicks as disposable and never once checks up on them after they leave his fold.  it's a giant miscommunication.

things come to a head when Bruce is forced to go to Metropolis to stop some alien threat or whatever.  Damian sneaks after him, despite express orders to stay, and when Bruce wakes up in a medical tent, Superman tells him that Damian is okay and he's staying with Superman's family.  Clark was not expecting Batman to go back to Gotham, stone-faced, without asking about or picking up his kid.

Bruce is heartbroken, he's lost four children and he just stays in the Cave and cries.  meanwhile Damian, with the Kents, is distressed by the abundance of people his father's warned him about.  he just wants to go home.

[copperbadge]

Hi Sam! I wanted to ask if you feel lately like you've been getting anything positive out of your therapy, because a lot of your initial thoughts about it kind of mirror mine. I'm very logical (except when I'm upset at myself) and very skeptical, so I feel like a therapist either isn't going to tell me anything new, or that I'm going to just disregard it because I can't trick myself into believing things that I just plain don't believe.

But I'm also starting to come to a realization, two years after my ADHD diagnosis and letting go (without therapy!) of most of the executive dysfunction-fueled self worth issues I was having, that I'm kind of Not Okay in other ways. I'm safe —going to work every day and doing my job so I won't lose my livelihood and have never had a self harm urge in my life— But I'm not really okay. I'm having major self esteem issues related to my personality separate from the executive dysfunction that are putting me in a bad place. I don't want to take antidepressants for reasons I won't go into but that means my other option is therapy and... I don't know if I'm a person that therapy will actually work on. I found a lot of validation in some of your perspectives, about affirmations being bullshit and "mindfulness" exercises feeling impossible and useless, about not having an inner monologue and how that might be causing issues with traditional methods. So I was just wondering, do you feel like therapy is working now that you've been in it longer?

I've wasted a lot of money on "elective" (and ultimately useless, back to square one) medical nonsense this year and I'm not eager to waste more, but I've also met my insurance deductible so it's the best time to try it if I'm going to.

I mean, it depends on the modality a little but I don't think trying basic talk therapy can hurt, as long as you find a decent therapist. And it's better to try it now when you're feeling Mostly Okay than waiting until you are Really Not Okay. But this entire paragraph comes with a lot of context so....

A lot of what I talked about in terms of struggling with mindfulness, etc. was less related to the therapy I am still in than it was to the DBT class I took at Therapist's suggestion. We were both aware that she was basically throwing stuff at the wall to see what stuck, and while it was an interesting class I don't think for me it was helpful. As you mention, I struggled with affirmations and visualization since neurologically I'm not really set up for those; I don't think they're objectively bullshit but I do think there's an assumption within the mental health industry that they will have function for everyone and that's simply untrue, and the expectation that it will is very damaging. I also struggled with the physical-intervention aspects (called TIPP usually) which didn't work at all for me and felt frankly like doctor-approved self harm. DBT can get very culty, which set off a ton of red flags for me -- possibly false flags, but they still waved real big.

And that's because I also have a lot of trust issues surrounding therapy. To the point where, the minute one of the people running the DBT class made actually quite gentle fun of me for asking a question he couldn't answer, I checked out on anything he said. We were learning about a DBT concept called Wise Mind and I asked, "If wise mind is an identifiable mental state, how do we know if we're in it?" and when he couldn't quite answer beyond "It's different for everyone" I said, "But if we know it's real there must be some kind of common denominator, a measurable data point," and he said "Well, Sam, you're not going to levitate" and the rest of the class laughed. Sorry bud, this is almost certainly an over-reaction, but I'm me and you lost me when you came at me instead of just admitting you didn't know. (Also it turns out I just live in Wise Mind like 80% of the time which is one reason I couldn't tell.)

But basic talk therapy outside of DBT is just...you talk at someone about your problems and come up with ways to try and solve them, which is a lot more straightforward and way less frustrating. You have to be an active participant, you have to both have a goal and be willing to discuss reaching it, but that goal can be as simple as just "figure out what my mental health goals should be" at first. You don't have to learn like, vocabulary for it.

The thing is, while I have seen some improvement in regulation issues, I also struggle with basic talk therapy. Most people, and this blew my mind, see measurable improvement in nine to eighteen therapy sessions. A lot of people don't go long-term, they just are having a moment and get help getting through the moment and then can disengage, with their therapist's approval.

I was in therapy consistently from the age of nine to eighteen and only stopped because I reached legal majority and physically refused to go.

Not one minute of those nine years did I want to be there. And, because none of the three therapists I saw across those years actually explained to me why I was there or how therapy worked, for me it felt like "Your punishment for having feelings is to speedrun every feeling you had this week in an hour, to a stranger." There was also what my current therapist believes to be some extremely unethical behavior going on, which didn't help.

So it has taken actually a lot of time to get to a place where I would even allow her to understand what help I need. I've been in therapy for about a year (generally weekly but there have been some gaps) and it has only recently gotten deeper than very basic interpersonal problem-solving.

Like, two weeks ago I told her, "I had a thought this week that I couldn't tell you about something I was doing because then you'd have material on me" (meaning blackmail material) "and that's a fucked-up thing to think." And once I'd actually identified it as fucked up I had zero issue telling her about it, wasn't even nervous as I did so. Who's she going to tell? She's literally legally constrained from telling.

I think well over half of what she does is either validate that whatever emotion I'm having is normal, affirm my reactions so I don't keep believing I behaved weirdly, or praise something I've done that was a positive act. Does this work? Not always, because I'm unfortunately very aware that it's part of her job to do those things. But yeah, sometimes. Even if you don't fully believe it, "Hey that was a really smart move" is nice to hear. Sometimes she helps me come up with a plan for stressful future events or (rarely) behavior modification, and sometimes she either provides me with research or points me towards research I can do on my own. We don't do meditation or affirmations or stuff like that.

Like, last week I brought up the fact that I hadn't really ever thought about how if I have a disability that causes emotional dysregulation and I got it from my parents, they also likely had undiagnosed emotional dysregulation when raising me. So she said I should look into research on children with emotionally dysregulated parents. I was pretty annoyed by what I found (the ONE TIME adults are the focus instead of the kids is the ONE TIME I needed to learn about the kids, really?) but it led to something that was both informative and upsetting, so we discussed that. And when I was stumped about how to move forward with the information, she suggested that my general coping mechanism of writing about it was probably a good plan.

(At which point I just silently advanced my powerpoint presentation to the next slide, where I had a series of quotes from the Shivadh novels where Michaelis, acting as a parent, repeatedly does the exact opposite of the upsetting thing, because I realized even before the meeting that it's an ongoing theme in my work whenever I deal with people being parents. It's a good thing she has a sense of humor and also that I do.)

So yeah. Going into therapy you have to be ready to reject a therapist if you don't like them or if they get weird and pushy, you have to be ready to be a self-advocate, but you are the client; it shouldn't be super difficult to find someone who can at least walk you through what you want from it and agree not to do the stuff you don't want, and if you want to stop going you just...stop going.

Good luck, in any case! I hope you get what you need, whether or not that ends up being therapy.

[wolfjackle-creates]

WIP Wednesday

Part 1, Part 2

This is more of Ghost!Robin haunting Jason. This might not've won the poll (if you haven't voted, it's the post right after this one on my blog. But you'll have to come out in numbers to win against the Dead on Main shippers!), but it will feature in both this week's WIP Wednesday and next, so y'all better be happy.

1,100 words

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“If he’s still in the area, you should invite him,” said Dick. “Alfred’s food is to die for.” Robin was hanging upside down next to Dick nodding solemnly.

Danny tried to stop himself, he really did. He even managed to keep from saying he’d been there done that, but he couldn’t keep from laughing so hard he couldn’t breathe.

From where he was bent over trying to catch his breath, he saw Dick do some sort of spin that ended with him sitting upright on the chair. “Um… Is he all right?”

“He’s fine,” Jazz insisted. “He just thinks he’s hilarious. He had an accident when he was younger with electricity and his heart stopped. But after a few months his condition stabilized and now he’s stronger than ever.”

Through his laughs, Danny gasped, “If— If I hadn’t died… Mom and Dad… And you never, Gotham.”

Jazz turned away from him and hid her face in Jason’s neck. Danny just got himself under control when he noticed her shoulders shaking slightly.

He lost it again, Jazz following just behind.

Someone was saying “I’m confused” but someone else joined in their laughter. Danny looked up and saw it was Jason. And Robin. He liked them both already.

“Sorry, sorry,” gasped Danny once he had enough breath to do so. “Amity Parkers have a morbid sense of humor.”

“Tt, I hardly believe your heart stopping then medical intervention saving your life can count as you actually dying.” Damian had a sneer on his face and Danny already didn’t like him.

But rather than engage, he just shrugged. “It was close enough that the ghosts back home like me more’n most.” He wiped his eyes to get rid of the tears.

“I like you, kid. Great sense of humor.” Jason reached around Jazz to ruffle his hair; Danny swatted the hand away.

“Ghosts?” asked Cass.

“Yes, of course,” said Jazz. “Amity Park, the most haunted town in America.”

“Ghosts aren’t real,” argued Damian.

“Do you really need to play up the tourist gimmick even around friends?” added Tim.

“Tourist gimmick? We hate outsiders.” Danny didn’t even bother responding to the comment about ghosts not existing.

“Why do you dislike outsiders so much?” asked Bruce.

With a shrug, Jazz answered, “It’s hard to explain, but outsiders just don’t fit in in Amity.”

Danny let himself look at Robin who was sitting on the back of the couch behind Jason. “Jason might be an exception, though. Have you taken him home yet?”

“No, but I’ve been wanting to. Just… Jack and Maddie.” Jazz did take their betrayal so much harder than Danny had.

“Fair. Tell you what, give me a list of weeks you two can arrange to get off and I’ll make sure Mom and Dad are out of Amity for at least one of them.”

Jason leaned around Jazz to ask, “Why are you so sure I’d fit in in Amity?”

Obviously he couldn’t say it was because Jason was haunted and liminal, so all he said was, “Oh, you’ve got the vibes. You’ll understand it when you get there. Just… Listen to Jazz? It isn’t really safe if you try and do your own thing.”

Around them, various conversations developed and Danny let Jazz take over describing the places in Amity she wanted to show Jason. Instead, he watched Robin interact with the wider group.

The ghost kept trying to get the attention of someone, anyone, in the Wayne family. But his efforts focused on Bruce and Dick. He was clearly haunting Jason, though, and it feels like they might be sharing ectoplasm somehow.

Danny really wanted to pull out his Ecto-tracker, based off the Fenton Finder but far more sensitive and accurate. Instead, he just moved his bag closer to him.

“We can store that somewhere so you don’t have to carry it around with you,” offered Tim who must’ve seen the motion.

“Oh, that’s okay. Mr. Alfred already offered. I feel more comfortable having my bag with me.”

“What are you carrying around?” he asked.

“Bit of everything, to be honest. Laptop, PDA, chargers, first aid kit, granola bars, medicines, change of clothes, things I need for my job.”

Jason asked over Jazz’s head, “What is your job? Jazz never shares specifics, just that it keeps you too busy to visit or call very often.”

Robin was now staring at him with a grin and making amused trills. It took all of Danny’s self control to not snark at him.

“I do contract work.” It was his default answer on Earth. It was even sort-of true. If he squinted and tilted his head. Robin did not look impressed by his answer.

“I… Don’t know what that means,” admitted Jason. “What field do you work in?”

Danny waved a hand in the air. “Ancients, easier to ask what I don’t do! I build or repair things. I’m good at finding people. I help others get where they need to go. I’ve done babysitting before. I’m called in to deescalate or otherwise resolve conflicts. Basically, if someone needs assistance with something, I do it. Or I know someone who can.”

“Why do you swear by these ‘Ancients?’” asked Damian.

“It’s another ghost thing. But you don’t believe in ghosts, so I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Jazz swears by them, too,” added Jason.

Tim elbowed Damian who stood and actually pulled a knife on his brother. Not only was this kid liminal, he definitely had some ghostly instincts. “Woah, that’s enough, Damian!” ordered Dick as he positioned himself between the two.

Damian allowed Dick to take the blade, though he continued to glare at Tim. “Then tell Drake to not touch me again.”

Tim rolled his eyes and said, “Whatever,” as he moved closer to Danny and Jazz. To Danny, he asked, “So, what sort of things do you build?”

Danny decided Damian’s ghost instincts weren’t worth commenting on at the moment and just answered the question. “Oh, I can build anything.” Pulling out his PDA, he unlocked it and handed it to Tim. “My partner Tucker and I designed these. All the capabilities of a smartphone without the need for a cellular plan. Plus durable enough to survive being run over by a tank. And it gets service anywhere.”

Tim wasted no time in navigating the device’s capabilities. “What is this UI? I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Tucker designed it. He’s a genius with software. I’m the hardware guy.”

Tim asked more details on the specs of the PDA which Danny happily answered. The things he built with Tucker were always his favorite inventions.

Tag list!

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Part 4

@addie-lover-of-stories, @justwannabecat, @gin2212, @amercurio, @regonold, @overtherose, @readerzj, @sjrose1216, @echoednonny, @deeterzz, @blu-lilac, @number-one-jew, @rowanaway-fromthisbs, @vythika96, @tired-yet-awaken, @themirrorghost

I think that's everyone! Let me know and I'll add you.

[detectivehole]

hey detective how do i stop getting bored with everything i do? i can't seem to do anything anymore and it's messing with my head so badly

unfortunately anon this is a textbook symptom of depression, which can effect anyone any time. speaking from personal experience, you want to get the jump on this as soon as you can, and i advise speaking to someone you trust about this experience and seeking medical/professional intervention, as well as researching self help methods. that's all corny, i know, but they can work. depression isn't all sadness and melancholy, a lot or even all of it is unending boredom, and personally ive always found the boredom more agonizing then the sadness

or maybe it's not depression, but better safe than sorry

in the meantime, chasing little highs to keep things bearable is the best method imo, even if it's hard. some suggestions:

create a list of artsy/shitty movies to work through

smoke weed (avoid booze)

create a charcuterie board as fancy or as trashy as your heart desires (best done in conjunction with the weed)

force yourself to revisit something you were obsessed with as a child

take a weekend vacation to a city that's only an hour away

emulate some retro games

waste some disposable cash on a very specific, very out of character thrifted outfit, and wear it in public

play free online games with your friends

play free online games alone

go down a youtube rabbit hole

box dye your hair a color you think is ugly, to keep things interesting. if you hate it, you can dye it black or cut it off. it'll grow back probably

get really into one niche of music to the point where its obnoxious

look through one of the countless free archives online and start a personally curated collection (i like to go through gif cities and just download shit i like)

start a new side blog cataloging something no one cares about. like sidewalk plants, or clouds that look like clouds. squirrels you see

do all of these or none of them or whatever. it's up to you. just remember that nothing is a waste of time because the time is gonna pass anyway. if you do them, and still none of them interest you, you can at least say you did them, and that you were trying to dig yourself from out of this rut. plus they make good conversation pieces

getting through life when everything feels like nothing is about leaning into the absurd and forcing yourself to do things anyway- at least if everything's boring, you have no excuse not to try something new. worst it could be is... still boring. if it's bad at least that's an emotion to feel, and if it's good that's a win

[childofthewolvess]

Regarding your spiritual psychosis posts: How does intersectionalism come into play when discerning and getting support with spiritual psychosis (or any psychosis for that matter).

I've seen the kinds of people who say some delusions aren't that serious, use miscellaneous excuses for it, ect. Some of them are personal experiences said individuals have had- I've also fallen down the rabbit hole of questioning that kind of thing myself.

That being said- a main pattern I've noticed with people who say these kinds of things, is that more often than not they have been harmed by the psychiatry industry. PoC and chronically ill individuals, queer people, ect. People who live in conservative areas where there *aren't* many good options for mental health help. Hell most doctors I've met throughout my life have been very similar, I've been falsely diagnosed with things I don't have or out right had doctors refuse to treat me for one reason or another. Medical abuse, especially against minorities is a very real and common issue. Discrimination against non Christians and having diagnostic criteria ignored because they're non Christian is a real issue.

You say to seek medical assistance if you suspect you or someone you know is going through spiritual psychosis but how do you manage the fact that in a lot of cases, seeking help can actively harm someone? I ask this genuinely because I think a lot of what you say regarding spiritual psychosis is something to be taken seriously but I struggle to trust anyone who simply says "Just go see a Dr" without acknowledging the amount of harm that could come of that. Bad health care isn't a rarity it's the norm in so many places.

Hey Anon! Thanks for the good question! This is a whole other topic, and I appreciate you bringing it up.

I want to make it clear that I keep telling people that if they recognize signs, they need to seek medical assistance, because there is truly nothing else I can do in this case. The only other thing I can do in this case is to keep spreading awareness - but I’ve also been yelled at numerous times on here for “armchair diagnosing” with my posts and so I am forced to make it very clear that I am not out to diagnose people, and I’m not a medical professional who can diagnose.

I also want to emphasize that like any other medical condition, psychosis is dangerous. It is not just a belief or experience. It should be treated as such. Like depression or other psychiatric disorders, we can’t separate them medically from other medical conditions. If you have a broken leg, you need to get it treated eventually; if you have psychosis, you need to get it treated eventually. Like a broken leg can end up in infection and worsening health, psychosis can end up as a life-threatening dangerous condition. Someone with psychosis, no matter their identity, is an at-risk individual who needs to find safe medical assistance as soon as possible. While I understand that safe healthcare is tough, especially in the United States for us marginalized folks, this is why it’s important to know your safe medical resources in your area and available to you.

At the end of the day, letting the problem worsen because of bad experiences with psychiatric care due to being marginalized identity are going to be more harmful than finding a safe resource and seeking help. Trust me, I understand this at the very bottom of my heart. I was a kid with psychosis in a military family and almost died because I was not aware of the resources I could reach out to. I lived in rural Kansas at the time. As sad at it is, this is reality: the problem gets treated, or it doesn’t. I got lucky and found that I could trust my social worker at school, and my parents were forced to take me to psychiatric care. I wouldn’t have survived if the school district didn’t make it clear that I needed immediate medical intervention. Even if it may be harmful at first to an individual, in the long run, it’s critical that any kind of medical problem that presents a threat to you others needs to be treated.

Here’s the other thing: even in these tough situations, there’s not much else you can do other than to encourage folks to seek safe healthcare and medical attention. Otherwise, you may be encouraging the problem or causing someone to fear medical help.

As a chronically ill queer and trans individual, I have been harmed by the psychiatric industry, but I also know that it’s important to understand that knowing your resources and safe spaces are integral. It took me years (and a couple of moves across states) to find a safe psychiatrist and therapist as well as medical care. Between a help line in your area, to an online therapist or psychiatrist, or any kind of hotline. There are outlets to seek help, especially for marginalized folks in mental health care. And I know this from first-hand experience. You must know your safe resources.

In fact, I grew up in a military family, and for those of you that are unfamiliar, mental disability and awareness is non-existent in military culture because if you had a disability, you were discharged. If you were suffering mentally, you’d lose your job. This is a rampant problem in our homeless veterans in the US. This mentality extended from active duty members to their families. PTSD in veterans was, and still is, the only recognized military psychiatric medical care. I grew up in a family that had the mentality of “fix it yourself.” I couldn’t get my psychosis treated until I was diagnosed with OCD far after my family was retired from the military. I’m a severely autistic and ADHD adult who was never diagnosed as a child because of mistrust in psychiatric fields and it caused a whole minefield of other problems years down the line. I grew up in the south and the Bible Belt, where safe resources were nill to none - but there were still resources. In this era of the internet, it’s better to seek that assistance than let the problem worsen.

Know your safe sources and medical help. Research in your area doctors or clinics that specifically mention queer care and support for marginalized communities. In the age of the internet, finding a hotline or safe nurse line you know that you can call to is critical. Find trusted friends or loved ones who can reach out for you when you can’t do it yourself. Create a circle around you of medical assistance you can at least try to trust.

[bioethicists]

Your post about how the clinical process surrounding mental illness and addiction was really interesting!

I wonder what your thoughts are about Housing First models and Common Grounds models? Because I feel like they speak directly to your points and provide the needs but also a structure that can be relied on if one wishes to change oneself.

my job as a research assistant is actually doing an evaluation of the benefits of a massive housing first project in boston! i am a fan of housing first particularly because i think everyone should be housed + the possibilities for life shrink dramatically the second somebody is unhoused, regardless of their substance use status. unhoused ppl are treated as less than human (sometimes less than animal tbh) in many spaces. i also have a personal investment because my brother overdosed in part because of the fact that he had been kicked out of his living situation for using + was forced to use with a depressed tolerance in a remote location. if he had been in a housing situation which was not contingent on sobriety, where others may have been present to narcan him or he would not have had the immense stress + trigger of dogshit menial labor jobs needed to pay the ridiculous, price gouging rents at sober living- i mean, i can't speculate, but it's something i do think about.

i think my hesitation with how it can be implemented is, again, the assumption that the end goal for everyone is recovery. my position is not "well some people can't recover" or "well some people can't recover until xyz is met" but "nobody is obligated to recover, ever, and recovery is a subjective concept which can be put to extremely reactionary uses. i want to reduce people's suffering and increase their possibilities for life."

i do think, based on my work, that it's really important for people who are using substances to have access to resources which facilitate their safety and happiness + a lot of them would probably choose either sobriety, MAT, or safer drug use habits if that was something which was easy for them to do. they often express genuinely felt desires to "get better" (in whatever way that means to them or whatever way they hope it means to me) but similar, competing desires to continue experiencing the benefits of their drug use, as well as avoiding the negatives of sobriety. while i chafe at the idea that all people's "true selves" want to recover (in the specific way that recovery is constructed by substance use treatment providers), i do think that most people want to suffer less. things like methadone/suboxone (or safe, legal, surveillance free supply!!!), medications provided on site, easily accessible, non judgemental medical treatment, etc can save lives.

it's important for ppl to be very skeptical of who is allocating/managing the resources for these interventions + their motivations. to be frank, i get scared about the future of the (admittedly imperfect) housing projects i work with because they are funded by the state of MA with the primary goal being to get ppl off the street, because housed members of the community were complaining about the encampments. the state very clearly wants to see that these projects 1) reduce the prevalence of visible homelessness and 2) reduce the rate of drug use among participants. my job is very explicitly to collect and produce data that indicates this + the questions i ask when i collect data are quite explicitly centered around figuring out if being housed makes ppl use less drugs. the point here is that the state absolutely can + will revoke the massive amounts of money it has allocated towards these programs if they don't see them as making people Stop Doing Drugs or Stop Wandering the Streets. this is why i think harm reduction responses should be grassroots responses originating within + for communities, as described in some of the chapters of Saving Our Own Lives. unfortunately, these communities rarely have the infrastructure or the resources to implement these projects, so they must rely on the state + all of its messy biopolitical motives

[musicfeedsmysoul12]

I've been thinking about Toga for a little bit, and how I just pity her, sure she's a psychotic murderer, but she didn't have to be, if her parents were more open to her quirk things could have been different, if she went to a reputable pro hero things could have been different, did she have some less than ideal tendencies before she went off the deep end? Yes, but with therapy they could have been lessened, and who knows she could have been a good underground hero or whatever she wanted to be, I understand what a lot of what the community says about her being able to change, but with everything she did it wasn't going to be overnight, while I'm a little sad about her fate at the end in a way it sorta fits, she finally found someone who truly sees her for what she wants to be, someone cute and deserving of love.

I’m about to break your heart: I don’t like Toga. At all. Yeah I can sympathize for her, abusive parents suck, but like… she is still a killer. She is aware what she does is wrong and does it anyway. No amount of ‘I want love’ can change that for me. Plus I think people forget that it’s not canon she needs blood to survive. Her fascination with blood is due to her Quirk yes- but it was also what led to her killing a bird. That highly suggests psychopathic/sociopathic tendencies. These people tend to ONLY focus on themselves and what they want rather then anyone else.

Yes therapy helps but its not just ‘a few months of sessions’ its years on end therapy. Its never ending. Its in and out of hospitals sometimes to see what helps depending on the person. Its possibly being on medication, its being a young adult changing therapists ten times.

Yeah she could have been saved. But she also had a body count within like a year. I find it really hard to understand how people downplay it or try to ignore her actions- much like how they do it with Bakugou. Because she's cute and fun they want her to be part of the hero course as ‘rehab’ and ‘look how awful these kids are shunning her aren't they despite the fact they just got attacked a week ago by her’.

I'm much more interested in unrepentative Toga because I find that more interesting then a ‘good’ Toga. More so since the various ways people redeem her just fail.

A few months of therapy and it’s all good! No? Toga needs YEARS of therapy. And to be honest? With her history- she would need at least two years incarceration in a psychiatric hospital.

She gets into a rehab program at UA and then makes best friends. Okay no, she is obsessed with Izuku and Ochako. You remove people like Toga from their obsessions for their safety.

She gets caught after her first kill, gets help and then joins the hero course! It would take so much longer for her therapy to be done.

Do I think if she was found before she started killing things would be different? Yes I do! I fully think she could have been a hero if she had early intervention. If a teacher got worried, if she had proper Quirk Counseling- list goes on. She would still have her tendencies but early childhood intervention helps with that stuff. She would still be in therapy and all but she would have excelled at heroics. Psychopaths and sociopaths do wonderful in the military and similar jobs for a reason. An underground hero like Toga working as a spy? She'd rock it.

But I also think she isn't safe for society after she starts killing. Maybe in like a decade after therapy and stuff she would be, but it takes a long time for that to happen. Een then, she may not be allowed out because she isn't insane in the way she doesn't know what she's doing. She does, she does it. She might be in prison for the rest of her life because of that.

And lets say she does get out- its probably in her best interests not to have contact with Ochako. The risk of her relapsing is to much.

Of course this is me taking a more realistic approach. You can handwave everything with Quirks, but for me its just… I can’t.

I’ve read really good LOV redemption fics. One of my fav authors here (who I bug all the time) likes Toga. I don’t mind reading them because they work/are fairly crackish so its not a big deal. (Others less so). I can see why people like her, even if I don’t understand the habit of downplaying her actions. I just don’t like her. To me, she's more interesting as a selfish and unrepentive villain.

That being said: I didn't hate her ending either. I think it does fit her, and if it had to happen I like how it unfolded. Ochako did see someone worthy of love, worthy of care. And I think it says a lot about Ochako. I love it. I truly do. I love also how Ochako champions helping others like Toga to prevent the same thing happening again.

It’s one of the things I like the most about the ending.

[bullet-prooflove]

Drinking Tonight: Sam Abrams x Reader

Tagging: @proceduralpassion @crazy4chickennuggets @callsignartemis @kmc1989 @cosmic-psychickitty @thebewingedjewelcat @annieradcliff

Sam thinks that you saved his life, but the truth is, he saved yours.

There was a night during the pandemic that you thought about ending it all. You looked at the wine bottle you had been drinking from and you thought about how simple it would be to just slip away.

Sam had been staying at the hotel that the hospital had taken over. There were too many unknown factors when it came to COVID-19, he had told you; he couldn’t stand the idea of you getting sick from something that he may have brought home with him. What had started as a couple of weeks had turned into months.

Your life had shrunk to the confines of your home. You delivered your counselling sessions over Zoom, client after client after client all vocalising their pain, their anxiety, their fears. As a mental health professional, you were supposed to have supervisions every eight weeks but those disappeared completely because the system was overwhelmed by the need to help individuals. Nobody could keep up with their workloads. People were slipping through the cracks, and you had no way of helping them, you started to self-medicate, a bottle of wine each night to take the edge off your own guilt.

You hadn’t realised how isolated you had become. You stopped answering Sam’s calls because you couldn’t face talking to him, he was out there on the front-line helping people, and you were just sticking band aids on wounds that needed serious interventions.

The night that Sam comes home, you’re drunk.

The thing is you don’t drink at home, the two of you have the occasional glass of wine but you don’t usually keep alcohol in the house. When he sees three wine bottles congregated alongside the recycle bin, he knows that there’s a problem.

It’s been three months since he’s actually been in your presence, and it kills him that it’s taken him this long to realise that you’re suffering. He finds you passed out on the couch, the TV on in the background. There’s mascara smeared under your eyes and a half-drunk glass of wine on the coffee table.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He says lightly shaking you. “Let’s get you to bed.”

When you wake up to see Sam’s concerned features in your field of vision, you think you’re dreaming. It’s when he gives you that kind smile, his fingertips brushing your hair back behind your ear that you realise he’s actually there.

For a second you feel elation and then the shame rushes in. Your gaze comes to rest on that half drunk glass of wine just sitting there on the coffee table and you feel something inside you break. You fall apart completely, tears running down your cheeks as Sam lowers himself onto the couch along side of you and gathers you up into his arms.

You can’t say how good it feels to be held again, to have the man you love wrap his arms around you, his lips kissing away the salt on your cheeks. Sam has always been a safe space for you, and you find yourself telling him exactly what’s been going on in your head. How messed up things have gotten, how out of control you feel, how some days it’s hard to get out of bed because there’s no joy in the world anymore. There’s just pain, this constant stream of agony eating away at you day after day.

Talking about it helps, Sam is the one person you can rely on moments like this. The only person you can allow yourself to show weakness to, because to your friends and family you’re the strong one. The one that can handle anything.

The two of you make a plan.

He’s going to take a little time off work; you try to protest but he won’t have it. You and Lucy are the most important people in his life, if you’re hurting, he is too.  He books you an appointment with his colleague Doctor Charles, it’s nearly impossible to get a slot with a mental health professional but he manages it.

The two of you fall into a routine, you’ve forgotten how it feels to wake up with him, to exist in the same space. You cook together, healthy stuff because Sam knows that diet can be important when you’re in crisis. He buys you a journal, a pretty A5 book with flowers embossed on the cover for you to write down your thoughts and feelings because he read somewhere that it makes them more manageable. It’s the act of doing this that inspires you to start writing a blog and before you know it, you’re inundated with people telling you how they identify with your posts and how you’re genuinely helping them get through the day.

“Why not write a book?” Sam suggests one night when the two of you are cuddled up on the couch. You’re watching the Bake Off and both of you are being extremely judgemental about the state of some of the confections. “You practically have all of the material.”

“I’ll think about it.” You tell him as his lips brush over your forehead.

It’s a year later that you publish your first book.

Love Sam? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[artsy-hobbitses]

Knowing about much of their relationship, what was Sides/Strongarm's first date like? Did they have pictures at the time (was it just Sides being flirty?) and more importantly, who kissed who first?

They actually wouldn’t be able to tell you in all frankness. It would depend on if you mean a date they were cognizant of or one where it was “oh yeah we did that didn’t we?” in hindsight.

Basically they’ve been sporadically, unofficially ‘dating’ before they’d ever figured were dating. They’d spar with each other very often, he’d get flirty and she’d snark back, he’d sneak off after his gym sessions with Sunny to see her on pretext of making sure she’s seen Ratchet because Wreckers can be kinda reckless when asking for medical care, yaknow? She usually asks him to try out her kitchen experiments, and he always says yes even when he knows from experience he’s going to regret this hours later (She reasons that he knows how to be honest without being an ass about it, he reasons that hey, he just wants front row seats to the miracle as it happens!)

They’re initially unwilling to admit they like each other more than friends and that they know more about each other than anyone else on the team—Strongarm thinks it’s insane to even think about this in the middle of a war and she’s not ready to admit that she’s actually scared of the idea of losing him (she has lost friends on the force prior to this) because he’s on the frontlines so she keeps herself safe she thinks, by being professional/holding him at a distance, while Sideswipe—who’s been seen as second best his entire life—likes her but genuinely thinks she can and will do better/that he’s just here until someone better comes along.

Whatever it is they have kind of stumbles and gets supercharged after Sunny leaves the Autobots and Sideswipe is the worst he’s mentally ever been (in realizing that the only family member who he figured gave a shit about him has more or less ‘abandoned’ him too, and he’s taking the heat for letting Sunny go), and he and Strongarm get into a shouting match when she attempts to care for/run an intervention on him because she can’t bear to see him like this. Sideswipe’s emotionally dense at times, but not THAT dense, and when he sees the shattered expression on Strongarm’s face when he asks her “WHY DO YOU CARE?!”, it hits him like a brick even without a verbal response from her (..Oh. OH.) but he fumbles with his words and she just high-tails it outta there. And he’s left thinking fucking shit fucking hell he pushed someone else away AGAIN what the absolute hell you moron WHY WOULD YOU YELL AT HER LIKE THAT?!

He’s absolutely ready to do a whole apology tour the next day—flowers, chocolates, the whole deal—and crashes into her midway of finding her. She’s as surprised as he is, but informs him that she managed to introduce the concept of a “Mental Health Day” to Prowl, so he’s got the day off from his deskwork penance duty. She’s also got something new for him to try, no not here—he hasn’t been outside in ages and the day is too good to spend moping inside.

Cue the single beat as he blinks at her— flowers and chocolates in hand—and she blinks at him—dressed up and a picnic basket in arm.

A very confused “…Is this like. A date?” from Sides, followed a deep breath and a shaky but very determined “Yes” from Strongarm.

The entire thing is pretty on-the-spot and clumsy—they decide to head to the beach, Strongarm almost falls flat on her face because the cute shoes she chose for this outing are not made to walk on the shoreline so she’s tromping around barefooted cursing the seagulls who have definitely sensed incoming snacks (Sides has her shoes) as they find a nice patch in the shade somewhere because it’s warmer than expected.

Though whatever misgivings they might have sort of dissipate as they take in the situation; There is some sand in the food by the time Strongarm takes it out, but Sideswipe can see that it’s his favorite dish which she made, and while the flowers are slightly crumpled and the chocolates are semi-melted in the heat, Strongarm can see that they’re her favorites as well.

And it’s this understanding that they have always tried for each other, even if their efforts aren’t perfect, that leads to a very serious conversation about what happened, right after Sideswipe kicks it off the apology tour with an audience of one (and several very intrigued seagulls).

She admits that yes, she cares for him—he really is all she has left of a life she left behind—but admittedly hasn’t been the best at showing it, and has been afraid of taking that next step/potentially losing someone else close to her on the field.

He admits he cares for her—she’s all he has of his old life now that Sunny has left—but didn’t know if she felt the same way given how their ‘relationship’ started out (him the scoundrel, her the paragon) and he had been alright with it, and his insecurities about being second in everyone’s life—apparently even for his brother—just boiled over in that moment.

He gets a gentle-firm arm punch before he can apologise again, as Strongarm goes into full Rumiko Takahashi Tsundere baakaaa you think I’d do all this for some idiot Second Best on my list really REALLY (Sideswipe: ALRIGHT ALRIGHT AM SHUTTING UP AND EATING NOW)

The dish is, for the first time, perfect, and Sides lets her know that and thanks her, and her silly muppet goofball grin/little shimmy of triumph get a good-natured laugh out of him (which in turn makes her smile even bigger since it’s the first time she’s heard him laugh in months)

There’s companionable silence as they muster up the courage to cuddle up against one another and hold hands to watch the clouds go by, and Sideswipe notes how fleeting everything good like this feels in the middle of a war, that she isn’t wrong—she’s slated to leave for a Wrecker mission tomorrow, and after everything that has happened, this could the last time they see each other.

Strongarm talks about how some of her few friends in the force would hold little moments like this like a talisman to get them through bad days on the field, gives him a peck on the cheek (first chaste kiss!) and tells him that she will come home, as long as there’s someone to come home to. (the idea that she sees him as ‘home’ hits Sideswipe for 100pts of emotional damage)

It’s their first ‘official’ date and a bit of a bumpy start, but he starts to get his mojo back (unironically, he would have that Homer Simpson DO IT FOR HER style board except w/things related to Strongarm) and they make it a point to chat every day, and she can see him getting better/he can see her being more emotionally open.

She gets her first ‘intimate’ kiss from Sides the moment she comes back banged up but in one piece, bluescreens for a few seconds due to uh, ✨mental overheating✨, and promptly goes back to collect seconds.

[ransiquack]

hey I'm the guy who (almost) tried to diy top surgery. here's the full story:

last year (conveniently around when I first became interested in reanimator) I was reaching a point of extreme desperation with my transition. for multiple reasons I cannot safely come out of the closet or pursue medical transition, and I had started looking for my own solutions as a means of keeping myself alive. for some reason, top surgery appeared to be the most feasible at the time (I was not in my right mind. obviously). and I'm not joking, I was fully planning on completing it. I now have extensive knowledge on local anesthesia and where you get that kind of thing, for example (which, btw, wouldn't have worked in diy for MULTIPLE reasons, something I didn't want to believe at the time). In that period I believed it was fully possible. definitely not safe, but possible. I'd started gathering supplies, and practicing the surgery on props after doing what studying I could online. there were definitely some aspects I was worried about even through my altered state (explaining to doctors at follow-up appointments that I had performed surgery on myself? removing drainage tubes? correct nipple preservation/placement? infections??) but I wasn't “snapped out of it” until the person I had asked to assist me during the procedure (REASONABLY, SANELY) said no, which finally had me question how stupid this was. it's pretty much guaranteed that I would have died, even with professional medical intervention post-surgery, IF I survived that to begin with. overall I'm VERY glad I didn't try it, although sometimes dysphoria makes it tempting.

so yeah, I almost herbert-wested myself. I feel like this says something about trans healthcare in america.

also I wasn't on drugs for any of this so you can kind of imagine where I was mentally to get there stone cold sober lmao

!!DO NOT PERFORM YOUR OWN SURGERIES. YOU WILL DIE!!

(I'm on anon so you can post this publicly if you want, see what the people think of my stupidity)

this is maybe the greatest story ive ever read for a lot of reasons, really glad you didn’t go through with it but the thought process, preparation and reasoning behind it all is so fascinating wowza chowza dude

it also totally says something very specific about U.S. healthcare bullcrappa

[eggcompany]

Filthy Sweet Part 1

Jamie shows up at Keeley's door sick, sweaty, and in the depths of his heat. She thought Roy would be mad that her ex was there and in such a state. But Roy was just an alpha... and he never got to indulge with an omega who trusted him like Jamie does. Keeley loves the way Jamie submits to her, it's fucking art when he gives up for Roy. Alpha and Omega... her boys. Roy loves taking care of omegas, Keeley loves watching her boys give up to their primal wants, and Jamie loves his Mommy and Alpha.

“Jamie? It’s past midnight and I thought you were past- oh my god what’s wrong with you?” Keely asked and pulled the man into her home once she caught a good look at him. His splotchy face, red rimmed eyes blown huge and black, his skin a sick color, the sweat rolling off of him in the cold air. His bleached hair stuck to his forehead where it escaped his headband. 

“‘M so fuckin’ sick” he said as he was dragged to the kitchen. He dropped as soon as Keeley let go of him, knees hitting the floor in a painful thud. The woman got next to him, rubbing his back, shushing him, looking at him with a confused bewildered face. Then she caught it. His soaked trackies.

“Oh Jamie… your heat?” She asked carefully. Jamie hated being in heat, electing to only do it when he was on the brink of medical intervention. His heats were always a bit… Violent and overwhelming. Something Keeley hated because as a beta she couldn’t truly give what Jamie wanted, and because she hated having to tie Jamie down to keep him from hurting himself which kind of ruined bondage. But that was then. 

“I don’t know why my fuckin pills ain’t workin. I took them this morning like like ‘m supposed to. I- I was out on a jog and to get snacks and and it fuckin hit me. I-I need- I can’t get home.” Jamie explained and rubbed his hands over his cramping lower stomach. 

His head already started feeling manic, full of wants and worries. He wanted to be home and he wanted to hide in the closet and ride his dildo till he passed out on the shitty pile of pillows he called a nest. He was worried about getting home or someone being at his house or someone stopping by or not having food in the fridge or eating too much and Roy being mad about his calories or his dildo not being enough or a million other things. 

“Okay, okay, I’ll um- I’ll get you some water” Keeley said and hurried to get a glass and fill it with nice cold water from the pitcher in the fridge. Jamie let out a squeaky whine, another set of cramps rolling through his hips and stomach. 

“If you- you could get me a pad, I can get an Uber. I-I needa go home. It’s- I’m sorry” Jamie apologized pitifully from where he was, looking up at the beta with a sorrowful expression, like a wet puppy. She handed him the water, holding onto it until she was sure his trembling hands had it. 

“When did you leave your house? It’s late, Jamie.” She asked, glancing up at the clock, nearly 1am. 

“I left at eight and-and I uh jogged out and I got a sandwich and then I-I … I don’t know. I dunno where I went.” Jamie said and stared off at the floor. It was like his head was steamed up glass, like he could kinda see but not really. He just knew he was tired and his pants were soggy and his insides were starving to be filled.  

“Jamie… that’s not safe, you know that.” Keeley said and pulled Jamie out of his head as it tried to wander toward what his primal parts wanted. 

“I fuckin know. I don’t know what I’m doing. My head’s all fucked.” Jamie said and rubbed a hand over his face, holding his head in his hand for a minute before drinking more of his water, it tasted sweet to him, like he wanted to go drink the whole pitcher. 

Keeley left, watching the man shakily sip at the water before she slipped into the bathroom looking for the extra large pads she had. They were emergency backups, really, they’d grown dusty in the back of the drawer she kept that stuff in. Knowing Jamie, he’d soak through one by the time he got back to his house. She remembered when she had to take him to clinic while he was in heat for a certain test, he’d soaked through two pads, his absorbent underwear, and his sweatpants. She grabbed two and hoped she could find one of his old plugs or something to help him stay dry-er. 

But he was panicked and confused and she was sure he’d still have to pay extra for ruining a car’s seat. 

“Keeley? The fucks at the door this late?” Roy asked as he made his way down the stairs. He was blinking, barely awake, scratching at his lower stomach. He was walking, stiffly making his way toward the kitchen where he had assumed his girlfriend was having a midnight snack or some shit. He knew the house well enough he didn’t really need to look where he was going, rubbing his eyes as he walked toward the bright lights. 

He was an alpha who was… well an alpha. He knew a little bit about omega’s, a little bit about betas, just about the same amount as any other alpha knew. Which was to say he never really noticed the way Jamie acted around him, toward him, or anything else that any other omega would have clocked as attraction. Jamie was a great footballer, and, as much as he hated to admit, a friend. It didn’t matter if he smelled like candy and warm caramel, he was… unattainable to say the least. 

And perhaps the best smelling thing he’d been close to in…a while. Especially as he stopped in the doorway to stare and the whimpering body kneeling sloppily on their tiled kitchen floor. Especially when his grey eyes shot up to catch the alpha standing there in nothing but a pair of boxer briefs, his knees slipping apart the moment he caught sight. 

“Roy don-” Keeley started as she hurried to stop her boyfriend from getting in Jamie’s range. It was already too late. 

“Alpha” Jamie sobbed as the cup of water he’d been nursing fell from his hand. His body swayed as his knees slipped as far apart as his sweatpants would allow. He crashed forward, like his strings had been cut, forehead to chest hitting the cold floor as his back dipped and his hips tilted so he was perfectly presenting his ass up in the air. 

He hiccuped out a sob, body burning up as the alpha’s scent caught his nose. His whole body trembling, hands trapped between his sternum and the floor in shaking fists. All his muscles wanted to relax, to be loose and soft for the alpha. 

“Woah, Jamie, are you fuckin dying or something?” Roy asked, looking between his player on the floor and his girlfriend. It took him staring down at the other man, taking in the way his knees were spread, face shoved into the tile, ass in soaked sweatpants up in the air. The alpha’s nose flared, eyes flashing a rosey red before simmering back brown. The scent drew him in, making him step closer without him even knowing his feet were moving. 

“Jamie.” Roy growled out and looked down at the omega sobbing against the floor. He just stared at him, almost the same stare he had back when they were on opposite teams. A stare that could drill a hole through pure steel. 

Keeley stepped her way quickly toward Jamie, trying to miss the broken glass now scattered on the floor, the cup had broken but not shattered. But even so there was much more glass between her and the omega than between Roy and him. 

“He just needs a pad so he can Uber home. He didn’t come by for me to help or anything.” Keeled explained, trying to make sure Roy understood Jamie was in a bad way and not trying to get her back or anything. She was about to pull Jamie’s shoulder so he was back up kneeling but Roy was already down on one knee, rubbing his back comfortingly. 

Jamie whined and melted into the floor, losing himself in the contact of a proper alpha. He hummed as Roy rubbed his hand from the top of his sweats up to his shoulders. Roy’s look melted from his face, turning from utter disdain to something… far softer. His eyebrows grew close together and he almost looked intrigued. Like a curious cat. 

“Roy, that's gonna make it worse, you just need to go back to bed. Go on, I’ll stay until his ride gets here.” Keeley said and shooed her boyfriend back, making the older man stand and back up a few feet. 

As soon as Roy stood up and stepped away, even with Keeley’s hands soothing him to sit up, Jamie let out the most horrible noise. It was a cross between a shriek and a begging word. He sobbed harder, crashing his head, that only raised a few inches, back into the floor with a sick thud. He sobbed harder, ignoring Keeley’s comforts and guidance, letting his head rise with each sob only to drop back down onto the floor. 

“Jamie! God, don’t do that. Your head.” Keeley said and wrestled with him just to turn his face so she could see the red spot where his forehead had collided with the tile. He was crying, grey eyes watery and face splotching red. 

“I’m so sorry, I should leave. I'm a bad ‘mega, I’m bad, I can’t, I'm-I’m sick” Jamie sobbed and instead of his hips wagging in the air like a proper position for a presenting omega, he sunk into the floor onto his side, knees dragging up to his chest. She could see how hard he was clenching his jaw, nearly being able to hear his teeth creaking with the pressure he was biting down with. 

The beta tried her best to sooth him down, doing everything he liked. She was rubbing his burning blush red ears, the soft ridges rolling under her thumb, and her other hand was rubbing up and down the center of his chest, feeling the dense muscle hiding under his shirt. 

“Keeley… he should stay, he can stay, look at him” Roy said and looked down at her and she felt… God Jamie was just so fit and made such good sounds when he was in heat and Roy’s eyes not being a true alpha red yet but a warmer brown hue than normal, it all made Keeley’s own center hot. She couldn’t smell them, being a beta and all, but just looking at Jamie sob and roll toward her boyfriend just… It was getting into her own head.

Of course she’d thought about it before. She’d thought about when she was first with Jamie. When the omega would wake up soaking wet and begging her to lay across his back and shove a dildo into him, and when she asked he’d tell her about how he dreamed of Big Bad Roy Kent shoving him down on the pitch, pinning him in the showers, grabbing him just out in public. She’d of course thought it was hot, Jamie being a wet bitch under the alpha on the market? It was hot. 

And she’d thought of it much more recently when she caught Roy’s hand flying over his cock while watching game tapes or Jamie’s highlights. Or when Roy would grumble in his sleep in the nights before his rut, rumbling ‘ pretty boy, good Jamie, faster, good baby, so fuckin pretty’ . And of course when she asked he told her that yeah sometimes when he got around his rut that the pretty little thing would fill his head. It was normal, at least that’s what he told her. And she just thought it was hot. 

“Okay. Okay but you’ve gotta go to the bedroom so I can get him cleaned up. Bring me a shirt and… some of those fuzzy spa socks I have. His feet get cold when he’s like this. I need to get him cleaned up, in some dry underwear and damn I need to put a plug in him too he’s gonna leak all over the house.” Keeley explained and stood up so the alpha could kneel down next to Jamie. 

Roy started at his hands, rubbed them, catching their wrists together like they’d done a million times before. Scenting each other like they’d scent everyone else at the club. Except this time Roy let his hands and wrists drag across Jamie’s neck, rubbing across his scent glands and higher so he could rub his ears the same way Keeley had. 

Jamie was breathing deeply and calmed down as Roy caught Jamie’s face in his hands. He wanted to be closer to the alpha, pushing himself up on his hands so he was half kneeling, half on his hands and knees. His lips were slightly parted, eyes locked in with Roy’s. 

Roy hummed and pet away Jamie’s tears. The omega smelled fucking amazing. Sweet and warm and sort of like cut vegetables too. His skin was so smooth and soft and felt like heaven in Roy’s hands. And his hot breath and big blue eyes were doing something downright evil to Roy’s cock where it swelled in his underwear, giving a true valiant effort to try and get erect after having just had two full orgasms with Keeley a few hours prior.

“Jamie?” Keeley asked after savoring the pure beauty of her two boys savoring each other. Roy looking down at Jamie with want and Jamie up with adoration and need. 

“Alpha” Jamie breathed out and let his eyes shut, trusting Roy to see him in his heat unguarded. Showing utter submission and trust. He trusted Roy a thousand times over as a coach and friend, and now especially as an alpha. 

“Pretty boy… pretty ‘mega. Keeley he’s so soft…. Pretty baby” Roy said looking up with his eyes a rosy color, those eyes had looked down at Keeley so many times when she had to pull Roy through a rut. Rare times, but she’d only seen those eyes during his ruts. But now… simply touching an omega in heat was turning his brown eyes a maroon shade. 

“I know Roy. I know he’s soft. I know he’s pretty. Let him cuddle you for a while and then we can get him a ride home.” Keeley offered but she knew in the back of her mind Jamie was going to end up sleeping in their bed that night. 

“Let him stay the night. I’ll drive him home in the morning. Let him stay, he'll be okay.” Roy persuaded and Jamie sat up on his haunches, feet crossing under his butt. His eyes were blown, a thread of true omega gold nearly glowing.  

“Can’t sleep, too itchy” Jamie slurred out and looked between the two people he loved most. Keeley smiled and rubbed Jamie’s shoulder. His head lolled over, eyes staying on hers as she threaded her fingers through his sweaty hair a few times. 

“I’ll get you fixed in the bathroom and Roy can bring us some clothes and then make you some tea that’ll make you sleepy.” Keeley said and Jamie was nodding along with her.

She was his whole world right then. Mind too mushy to think for himself. Why would he need to when mommy and alpha were right there with him. He smiled at that. He loved them so much. And then he was standing and walking with her to the bathroom hand in hand like he was in a trance, dopey grin on his face. 

“Good boy” Keeley said quietly and closed the bathroom door behind him. And that… oh it melted him like butter. Jamie smiled stupidly, all pearly teeth and big round eyes. He loved being a good boy for mommy. He loved being a good boy. But then his smile fell and he looked at Keeley with a shy look. He hadn’t said it yet, the game only started when he asked for it. 

“Mommy’s boy” Jamie said quietly, asking more like it, asking for permission. 

It’s their game from forever ago. When Keeley had to calm him down or get him to shut up. When Keeley had to get him to come with her to the clinic so he didn’t fuck himself to death on his little fucking machine. When he was so far in his head Keeley thought he might get lost in there. It was their game. It was the only thing that could make sense when his head was all fucked. It helped him stay anchored when he was deep in his heats. Helped him know that even though he couldn’t smell an alpha, there was someone in charge, in control, to take care of him. 

Keeley looked at him considering. Is this okay? Is Roy going to be okay with it? Is any of this okay? Are they going to fuck? She’d love to see that, and that shook her from her own head. She’d love to see Roy fuck Jamie through their mattress. Or over the counter or in the shower or on the couch or on the floor like animals. And she looked back at Jamie where he had his sleeves pulled over his hands picking at it like he always did when he was nervous.

“Mommy’s special puppy. Just for a little while, Jamie.” Keeley finally said and Jamie smiled around the bit of cuff he had caught between his teeth. It was cute and only cuter when he leaned down to rub his cheek and forehead across her temple.

“Kay” is all he said. All he needed to say. He didn’t need to talk or anything else cause mommy was right there and she was gonna think for them both. 

Keeley knelt down, noticing how haphazardly Jamie’s trainers were tied and how his pants were completely untied. He always tied up his sweats. She just shook her head and looked up at Jamie who was smiling. He knew what she was doing. Mommy takes care of puppy and he just loved her and being her good boy. 

He lifted his foot once she untied his trainer’s laces. She pulled each shoe and sock off carefully, shoving his socks into his shoes before setting them aside, out of the way so he couldn’t trip over them later. She pulled his untied sweatpants down next, slipping them over his feet and tossing them into the sink. 

Jamie’s thighs all the way to his knees were soaked. Slick making his soft paper pale skin shiny and sticky. His tight briefs were doing nothing to keep any of it from rolling down his legs, the black fabric of them far over soaked. 

“Oh sweetheart, you’re soaked. Do you want to get a shower?” Keeley asked and gently touched the inside of his thigh, just above his knee. He jerked a little but held still, being good. Keeley smiled at him and pulled his briefs down, cringing a bit at the wet noise they made when they fell to the tile floor. 

Jamie shook his head, eyes getting watery. He sniffed once and Keeley hugged him, getting her hands under the fabric of his hoodie, working it up in the process.

“It’s okay, let’s just get these icky clothes off of you. Yeah lovely, let mommy see you.” She said as she pulled his hoodie and shirt up off of him, baring his blushing chest and wispy happy trail. Jamie kept his arms down obediently, not covering himself up like he wanted to. 

“I’m gross” the omega said as a few tears slipped down his cheeks. He looked down at himself. He felt gross and hot and cold and slimy. If he’d known his heat was coming on and he was gonna end up with someone, especially Keeley or Roy, he would’ve at least shaved if not went to get a wax. He hated not being perfect. He was the prettiest if he just had time to get perfect . 

Keeley shushed him and tilted his head away from his own body to back at her face. Jamie sniffed again, pout nearly comical on his soft pink lips.

“I want you to bend over the sink, I need to get you nice and clean. You wanna be nice and clean in mommy’s bed, yeah?” Keeley asked and Jamie nodded. He wanted whatever she wanted. 

He moved slowly as he made his way to stand in front of the large mirror. He looked between himself and Keeley’s eyes before he spread his feet and draped his chest over the cold countertop. He laid between the twin sinks. Center stage. 

Keeley couldn’t help but look. It was Jamie. You had to look. His thick thighs glistening with slick, his perfect round ass begging to be fucked and slapped. And when he tilted his hips, heels raising a bit off the floor, Keeley couldn’t help the throb that echoed between her own legs. Jamie was terribly pretty with his pink hole on display as a drop of slick rolled down his thigh, his cock and balls hanging sweetly soft under him, his smooth usually waxed skin perfect and pale with just the shadow of hair starting to show. 

“That’s a pretty bitch” Keeley said and Jamie smiled, hiding his face against the cold counter. He felt himself throb again, grateful for the counter keeping him on his feet, on display for his mommy. 

"Thanks" He said politely. He only let out longing sighs as Keeley wiped him clean with a cool cloth. She’d wet it beside his face, the cool water misting up from the sink feeling calming on his warm cheeks. 

He began panting against his arm which stayed obediently folded over the countertop. He couldn’t help the way his hips trembled or when he bucked up when Keeley ran the soft towel down his cock. He finally whined out, all desperate and calling, when Keeley pressed just hard enough on his hole that he felt his knees buckling, needing to hold onto the counter. 

"Want him so bad, mommy" He finally whispered as Keeley patted his legs dry from a few stray drops of water rolling down to his feet. She smiled at that, at how long it took for him to finally say it. How out of it he sounded. 

"I know that, baby, you've said that a lot before. Does he smell like you'd thought?" Keeley asked lowly as she looked under the sink at the organization tubs that had once been Jamie’s, stuck in the back and dusty now but clean inside. She never used under the sink, hadn’t thought to check there for his things when he was still moving his stuff out. 

"He smells like you guys had sex. And- and mud. He smells like- like wet rain an’ dirt. The pitch after a storm." Jamie explained and Keeley shook her head. Of course Roy smelled like football something. It also made her happy to know Jamie could explain it to her as something she knew. She could imagine that smell, that earthy scent. It fit Roy. 

"We had sex after dinner. You can still smell me on him?" She asked and finally found the small blue glass plug, bringing it up to wash it beside his face. It wasn’t very big, just enough to keep him from making a mess. He’d had a set of them, all about the same size, ‘ they’re not for sex, I just like the way they feel. Helps me sleep knowing I ain’t waking up in a puddle’ is what Jamie had said about them. 

"I can smell him on you. I can smell him now. Whole place sniffs like 'im" He whimpered and tried to keep the slick from leaking out of himself, failing but the attempt was there and Keeley could tell. She made a kissing noise and rewiped him with a dry towel before letting her hands splay over the wide expanse of his ass. He purred a bit, just one little rumble, as he tilted his hips back up to show off. His back arched just the right way, his body shifting into the position with natural ease. 

"You get so cute in heat. Ready?" Keeley asked and used one hand to grab and massage the plush muscle, the other held the slightly chilled plug against his hole. She watched as he shivered, goosebumps raising on his arms. He took one big breath and relaxed again, nodding into his arms. 

"Yes mommy." He replied, only letting out a satisfied sigh as the plug slid into him with no resistance. He hiccuped and grabbed onto the counter again, a warm swooping feeling in his belly nearly making him fall. His muscles made for holding onto a knot locked onto the toy, filling his brain with all those good chemicals that usually eluded him. 

Keeley stroked his back a few times, running her hand from shoulder down to his thighs. 

“In the shower, puppy, you’re gonna catch a cold.” She ordered and Jamie was moving shakily to get into the glass doored shower, turning on the water through muscle memory. She hopped up on the counter, watching him stand under the water as it warmed up, enjoying the show. 

-~-

Roy knocked before opening the door, now clothed in a t-shirt and joggers. He handed the shirt, one of his own heathered grey ones, and a pair of his own boxer briefs, thick cotton ones. He held the pair of teal socks in his own hands, holding them close to himself like he didn’t want Keeley to snatch them away. 

He pushed the door open more with his foot, right past Keeley, eyes locking onto Jamie. The younger man was leaning his forehead against the shower wall, letting the water splash against his back. His face was out, eyes caught on the alpha as he stood in the doorway. Jamie didn’t even think before he was sliding one leg forward to cover his cock and accentuate the dip of his back and the curve of his ass. He just kept his eyes dead on with Roy’s, even as the alpha looked him up and down slowly. 

Keeley looked between them, rolling her eyes before laughing when Roy had to grab the door jam, short nails digging into the frame for support. 

"You're both bad for each other. You, Mister Kent, need to go to bed or you'll be grouchy in the morning. And you, little boy, are supposed to be showering." She said and they both started arguing with her, over lapping each other.

"I was asleep until he-"

"I am showering he was-"

And then they were back locking eyes. Roy's warming back to the maroon color, Jamie's own simmering to a more yellow hue. Even with her nose she could feel the scent thickening the air. 

"You finish showering, put these on. Both of them. You" Keeley ordered Jamie, laying the clothes on the counter before poking Roy in the chest.

"You and me, talk." Keeley said as she shoved him out of the bathroom, keeping the door open behind them. She grabbed the hand that wasn’t strangling the soft socks, and pulled him into their bedroom down the hall. 

“Come on with it then.” She started as soon as the door was shut. Roy nuzzled at her temple, taking in strangled breaths, his teeth clenched. He let out a shaky sigh against her skin, not pulling away from her as he spoke. 

"He smells like fuckin caramel and popcorn and and fuckin... I wanna eat him. I love you Keeley. I really love you, I just... He smells so fuckin... can't help it." Roy growled out and stepped back, scrubbing his hands over his face. His dick was throbbing in his pants but he didn't feel the manic need to fuck, he just felt that crawling feeling in his hands to touch. 

"You'd never go behind my back to have sex with an omega. You don't even like omegas." She said and petted his bed head into a slightly more orderly way. Roy closed his eyes and leaned into her hand in his hair. 

"Never, Keeley, I'd never fucking do that. I just... he smells fuckin good and-" Roy started to bite out, his face screwing up like it hurt him to admit. His eyes creaked open, anger was heavy within them. Keeley smiled up at him and patted his hairy cheek. 

"If he wants, you can fuck him. I get to watch and you have to make me cum too. But you have my blessing to shag that dripping cunt he's got." Keeley said, rasping the last bit into Roy's neck. She felt the skin under her lips warm up with a pink blush. 

She pulled back to see Roy looking fuzzy eyed at the wall in front of him. He was still for a minute before nodding. He looked down at her, eye’s fuzzy but more focused, and nodded. 

"He doesn't nest, the suppressants he took as a kid didn't let him develop it, and he loves getting eaten out. Bet he'd love you're scruff on him, rubbing him all red" Keeley said sultry, scratching at his beard. She mouthed at his neck, letting some sensitive skin get caught between her teeth. 

“Fuck” He cursed his hands grabbed onto her hips, hands tensing each time she scraped her teeth over his scent gland. 

“Yeah? You wanna go dig the couch cushions and make a den? Huh, you wanna build a nice den for you and that sweet little omega? I know you do. I know you wanna make him dinner, brush his hair, you wanna climb in that fucking shower with him right now, don’t you? You can’t stop thinking about being so fucking good to him.” Keeley teased, lips teasing over his neck with each word. She was speaking the truth, he did want all of that. And she fucking knew it. 

“Fuck, yes, please?” Roy asked, hand reaching for her own, asking permission. His head was filling up with all the dreams he’d had of that omega. Of bending him over and eating him out or fingering him over his lap or spanking him when he was being a brat or taking his straight razor and shaving that stupid perfect jawline. 

“Yeah, just make sure to take your clothes off before you get in the shower. I don’t want you getting the floors soaked.” Keeley said and stepped back, watching her boyfriend tear his clothes off his body as he rushed toward the bathroom. 

Roy had always been a service alpha. Always wanting to do. Nothing made him feel better than making his mate happy. He loved it though, getting down on his knees in the shower and washing them gently, licking them clean, building a den somewhere soft and dark and quiet to mate in, feeding them by hand. It all made Roy hot in his pants and mushy in his head. 

And god Jamie would have never guessed. 

Not when Roy came into the bathroom already bare down to his skin, eyes warming to a deep red, cock thick and ready to fill Jamie past the brim. Jamie gasped and turned to grab the wall so Roy could just yank his plug out and fuck into him. But then Roy wasn’t slamming the shower door open but rather opening it slowly to run a hand from Jamie’s shoulder down to his ass, pulling his cheek apart to see the base of the plug. 

“Pretty baby, stand up.” Roy growled lowly, the words rolling their way into Jamie’s head, making his body obey without having to think at all. He stood up, water spraying across the back of his head. Roy petted at him for a moment, running both his hands down Jamie’s sides, squeezing his hips, squeezing down both his arms, and finally up to turn Jamie to face him. 

“Say I can have you or kick me out” Roy ordered, a breath away from Jamie, his lips nearly a ghost across the other man’s. Jamie whined, wanting to be under the alpha already, wanting to be good, needing to be alpha’s pretty little thing. 

“Speak, puppy, we need to make sure you want it. You wanna spend your heat with mommy and alpha?” Keeley said as she sat on the sink counter, turned so she could watch them. Jamie looked between them, eyes big and needy, glinting with a golden sparkle. 

“Daddy, fuck me. Wanna be good boy” Jamie finally whined out, mashing together the words he wanted. Roy smiled and brought their lips together, letting Jamie nip and suck at his lips, begging for more. He pulled back and Jamie pouted, wanting to get more of the alpha in any way he could, hands reaching for the hard cock brushing against his hip. 

“Hands off for now, puppy. Let daddy get you clean. Be good and wash your hair, you want to be nice and clean in daddy’s den, yeah?” Roy growled out and licked a line under the curve of Jamie’s jaw, savoring the taste of sweaty skin and the feeling of the slightest bit of 5 o'clock shadow. Jamie was nodding, eyes squeezing shut, hands blinding reaching to follow his orders. 

“Keeley?” Roy asked, looking over his shoulder at his girlfriend as he grabbed her shampoo, some pink bottle that cost a nauseating amount. Jamie was reaching for it but stopped to look up at Keeley. She smiled at them, both of them drunk off each other. 

“Make sure to wash around your ears, baby boy.” Keeley said and Jamie looked away, embarrassed. Roy looked at him, confused for a moment, before remembering how Keeley had been rubbing his ears in the kitchen. 

“Sensitive, huh? Sensitive all over right now, aren’t you? Every nerve on fire, isn’t that right?” Roy whispered against the side of Jamie’s head and dripped a bit of the soap into Jamie’s shaky hands, putting it back only to get down onto one knee under the omega.

Jamie stared at him, eye’s glimmering like molten gold, just watching to see what he was doing. Alpha’s were supposed to be… rougher. Taking. Less… gentle. It was kinda throwing Jamie for a loop seeing his alpha down on the floor of the shower. He couldn’t help but cock his head to the side in confusion as the alpha grabbed a pink loofah, coating it in vanilla scented body wash and gently start washing Jamie’s legs. 

The omega looked up at Keeley, eyebrows caught together, big blue again eyes looking to her for help. Keeley sighed, Jamie never took well to gentleness. Always wanting harder, rougher, ‘ just hurt me, do what you want to me, I can take it’ . 

“He’s a service Alpha. It’s making him happy, you wanna make alpha happy. You just need to do what you’re told, we’ll take care of you, puppy.” Keeley said gently, making sure Jamie understood what she was saying. His brain was moving at half speed. He nodded at the end before looking down at Roy. His dark hair getting all wet, turning to spilled oil on his head. 

“Happy? But…” Jamie mumbled and tried to look at Roy’s face. He couldn’t tell if the alpha was happy, he couldn’t see his dick. But then Roy was standing up, pulling him into a heated kiss, hands cradling Jamie’s jaw. The omega sighed and went jelly in Roy’s grasp, letting the alpha push his mouth open with his tongue, letting Roy taste him. 

“Wash your hair, let me clean you, and then I’m gonna take you back to our bed. I’m gonna get my mouth on that wet fucking cunt. You’re nearly spilling out around your plug. Gonna taste so good, all loose and dripping on my fucking tongue. Then when I get you good and settled, I’m gonna do the same thing to her, and you’re gonna watch. Aren’t you? Yeah you wanna fucking watch me make her cum.” Roy growled, low and rumbling in a way that had Jamie holding onto the alpha tightly, hole clenching up on the plug that was nearly overflowing with slick.

Jamie was nodding, lost in the image the alpha was painting. He loved getting eaten out, loved to get sloppy before a good knotting. He just needed to make alpha happy, finish alpha’s ritual. 

Most people had mating rituals. Certain clothes, foods, dances, movements, even just a certain way they make the bed. Jamie had his, sure, but he never really fed into them. He just… couldn’t. He could hear the voice in his head starting to pick at him, his father’s words drilled into his head. It doesn’t matter. They’re doing Roy’s ritual. Roy’s rather soft ritual. Jamie would have bet it was impact or physical stress but… a shower was good too. 

“Wash ma hair” Jamie mumbled and his hands found his hair, moving around clumsily to scrub the soap into his scalp. Roy hummed in approval before kneeling back to methodically scrub at the omega’s skin, indulging in the scent of his slick, inches from his face. It would have been sacrilegious not to lick across the pale swell of Jamie’s ass, letting his teeth graze across the tender flesh. 

Jamie whined, shifting around to get Roy’s mouth on him but Roy just stood up to keep washing. He was gentle with each stroke over the omega’s chest, cautious to be extra gentle over his nipples. Even then each time the loofah coasted across the puffy flesh, Jamie moaned out. 

Hair forgotten, clean enough to be tended to later, Roy left the actual cleaning behind to tease Jamie. He plastered himself across Jamie’s back, throbbing cock nestled between his asscheeks, plug warmed up but still a stark contrast to the soft plushness surrounding it. The omega let out an excited noise as he shifted his shoulders and back slightly against the hairy torso behind him. 

Jamie’s hands stayed obediently away from himself and he didn’t try to grab Roy’s cock but rather grasped loosely at the alpha’s wrists. Jamie’s head lolled back as Roy made nonsense paths from his collarbones down to his hip bones. Jamie just panted out, gasping when Roy’s rough palms caught on especially sensitive bits. 

“Pretty boy, show Keeley, show her how obedient you are. Show her you’re being a good boy.” Roy said quietly into Jamie’s ear, causing the omega to crack his eyes open. 

He caught sight of Keeley, hand snaked under her pajama pants, rubbing at herself lazily. Jamie sobbed, hands clenching up around Roy’s wrists. He caught her eyes, not knowing the alpha was looking at her with raw hunger in his maroon eyes over the omega’s shoulder. 

“What a sweet puppy. Words, how do you feel?” Keeley asked as Roy reached over, keeping one arm around his omega’s waist, to turn off the water. Jamie held onto that arm, head all desperate and uneven with all the gentleness. 

“More?” Jamie said, asking it rather, as kisses started to be scattered across the back of his neck and shoulders. Roy ran his hands across the plains of the omega’s stomach, waiting for Keeley to open the door and hand him a towel. 

“You want more? Daddy’s gonna get his face in your cunt in a minute. I’m surprised you’ve kept that plug in, that you haven’t got his cock down your throat. You’re being such a good boy.” Keeley said as she slid off the sink, pulling her hand from her pants. She quickly handed Roy a towel, a fluffy pink one. 

“Knot? When d’I get a knot?” Jamie asked in a slurred voice as Roy dried him off methodically, wiping the water away with quick ease, making sure to get everywhere dry. Keeley stood right outside the shower door, looking Jamie up and down, appraisingly. 

“Not going to knot you tonight, puppy, just going to get you to sleep. Clinic in the morning and then a knot.” Roy said calmly and quickly dried himself off. Jamie’s eyes grew wide, the simmering gold going dead back to grey in an instant. A light switch getting flicked off. 

“What? W-why? I promise I can take it, I’ll hold still and everything, I’ll be good.” Jamie said, looking between Keeley and Roy as the alpha dried his own hair. Keeley smiled, reaching out to calm the omega back down, he was so easy to rile himself up. 

“You’re doing so well, baby. We just want to make sure you’re alright. We care about you, we don’t wanna hurt you. You can’t have a knot tonight. You just need to get some sleep, let us worry about it. Okay, Jamie?” Keeley said and helped Jamie step out of the shower, but even then she could feel the tension getting worse in his muscles. His eyes looked back at Roy, confused why the alpha was hard but wouldn’t knot him.

Jamie’s head was too wooshy, too loose and foggy, all he wanted was a knot. The alpha of his actual dreams was right there , and he was hard and he smelled amazing and he was touching Jamie and taking care of him, just like a proper mate would. So why was Keeley saying no to a knot? 

That’s what flipped his mind. Keeley told him he couldn’t have a knot. Because Keeley was Roy’s mate. Roy wouldn’t knot him because he had Keeley. Jamie was just… just a bother. A toy to be played with and laughed at before tossing away to get back to their nice plain nice life. 

“Jamie!” He heard it in the back of his mind but didn’t care much as he pulled on his slimy cold sweatpants, walking as fast as he could while getting the wet cloth over his legs. He felt tears burning at his eyes even as he made it to the door and had his shirt half yanked on. He heard the thumping and banging of footsteps behind him which only made him run faster till his hand hit the doorknob. 

He shouldn’t have come here. He should have known better. He’s not one of those soft pretty omega’s, small and petite, with a soft body and desperate need to give their wholes lives to an alpha and be nothing more than a fuck doll housekeeper. He was too big, too muscly, he had a career, he wasn’t supposed to. He shouldn’t have shown up here. He shouldn’t have let it get this far. 

It was that thought that had him pushing himself out into the cold night, one bare foot meeting the cold concrete and Keeley’s front step. That was until a single word had him turning around, teary eyes glaring with nothing less than anger and hatred. 

“Omega” Roy growled out, towel wrapped around his waist, he was standing there in the doorway, eye’s dead serious. Jamie just looked at him, right in his eyes, as difficult as that was. He wanted Roy to know he was serious. He was a grown man, he could see where he was or wasn’t wanted. 

“You don’t want me, you can’t keep me, I don’t wanna be a toy. I’m going home.” Jamie said, eyes falling down, arms crossing, other foot coming down next to his other one in a childish stomp. He just stared down, fighting every urge in his body to do as alpha says, to just be a good boy and stay. He just… he wasn’t… he wasn’t supposed to be in Roy’s bed with Keeley. He wasn’t supposed to whimper and purr his way into his coach's den and expect to be given what he wants. He wasn’t supposed to have a heat right now and he hated being in heat and and- 

“Baby, come back in the house. You’re not a toy, you’re a good boy. Good omega, come back inside.” Roy guided as Jamie stood quietly at first but then broke down sobbing. The alpha gathered him up, wrapping his arms around Jamie’s hiccuping body, pulling him away from any prying eyes and back in enough for Keeley to shut and lock the door. Jamie just held on, hands holding onto the warm damp skin under him. 

“I hate being in heat, I’m an ugly boy, I’m a pansy, I’m not strong enough.” Jamie said, words chopped up with sobs and hiccups. Roy held onto him, nuzzling across the omega’s ears, shushing him. Keeley shook her head when she met Roy’s eyes. 

‘ James?’ Roy mouthed at her, having been witness to the elder Tartt’s fit throwing tantrums and violent rage, how he’d spit venom at his own son. Keeley nodded, pity readable on her face. Roy just gritted his teeth, anger burning through him hotter than it ever had before. It had to be the scent that radiated off of Jamie, shame, fear, something similar to old milk and hot tar. It made Roy want to go kill everything that ever made Jamie sad. But when Jamie let out another sob, all that melted away and he just wanted to make his omega feel better. 

“You’re a good boy Jamie, a pretty boy, a soft sweet omega, mommy’s sweet puppy, yeah? You’re so strong, you took your medicine like a good boy, you found mommy when you needed her, that was so good. So brave and strong.” Keeley praised quietly as she ran her hand up and down his back. Jamie hiccuped and kept sobbing, holding onto Roy for dear life. 

“I’m a bad dog. I’m bad.” Jamie sobbed, knees buckling so Roy had to keep him up on his feet, Keeley supporting him by hugging his back. Roy shushed him, lips against his sensitive ears. 

“Do you want me to make you a good dog?” Roy asked simply, Keeley was about to shoot him a look but Jamie was nodding, wiggling his way out of their arms to kneel at Roy’s feet. His hands fell reverently onto Roy’s knees, eyes looking up like the alpha had just saved him from execution, scent changing from fear and shame to something that had Roy grinning. 

“Please, daddy, make me good. I wanna be good, help me.” Jamie begged and Roy ran a hand under his jaw like he was actually considering it. His tear filled eyes and kiss plump lips, it was the picture of sin and Roy just needed to get a good look at it for a moment. 

“You like when I give you rules, instructions. It’s what makes you the best player I’ve ever seen.” Roy said, the praise making Jamie gasp and sit up straighter, hands sliding higher on Roy’s legs, fingertips slipping under the towel. 

“You don’t argue with me because I know better than you, isn’t that right?” Roy asked, pushing his fingers into the wet hair sticking to the omega’s temple. Jamie leaned into the contact nodding, letting his eyes slip shut. Stupid brain saying stupid stuff. Didn’t matter what he thought, mattered what Roy said. 

“What was that, puppy?” Roy asked when Jamie’s lips moved but no sound came out. Keeley leaned down next to Jamie’s face, but not hearing any words, just seeing his lips shape words. 

“Speak.” Keeley said, voice dipping demandingly. Jamie’s eyes fluttered open, lips pitching up into a smile. 

“‘m a stupid boy. Mommy, alpha, not stupid. Don’ needa think.” Jamie slurred out, mouth pulling into a real smile, toothy and bright. Keeley shook her head and pet his hair, looking at Roy as he stood half drunk off Jamie’s scent and submission. 

“He’s a fucking disaster. I’m gonna make him scream.” Roy said, red boiling up into his eyes, as he ran his thumb across the omega’s plush bottom lip. Keeley nodded, leaning in to press a kiss to Roy’s lips. 

He was more riled up than he let on, especially as he shoved his tongue into her mouth, using his left hand to drag her in and press the kiss that much deeper. She let him, let him ravage her mouth for a moment before she put a hand on his bare chest and pushed a slight bit, signaling for him to back off. Which he did reluctantly, only to look down and notice the shaking air around them. 

“You’re purring so loud Jamie, never heard you so loud.” Keeley said, smiling, and put a hand on the back of his neck, feeling as his whole body rattled with the loud rumbling. Roy grabbed under the younger man’s arms, lifting him to his feet. Roy caught his lips and… oh Keeley wasn’t ready for that. 

She wasn’t ready to see the way they locked together like puzzle pieces. The way Roy’s hands slipped the shirt and pants off Jamie so deftly the omega didn’t even notice, the way Jamie’s hands splayed across the alpha’s back to feel each and every muscle there, and definitely not for the way Roy’s own chest gave a half purr, just a rattle. She’d never heard Roy purr. Never. She’d never heard Jamie purr like this. 

It nearly made her feel left out until Jamie was grabbing for her, to pull her in for a sloppy, wet kiss. Wet from his tears and drool, messy and hungry. 

“Bedroom. Now.” Roy said in a way that left no room for arguments, even from Keeley. Jamie was wobbly on his legs as they slowly got covered in stray drops of slick that slipped past the plug, but Roy was far too ramped up to care for consequences so he simply picked the omega up. 

Carrying him front-to-front, hands under Jamie’s plush ass, Roy hauled him up the stairs like his knee was ten years younger. Jamie, of course, was grinning ear to ear because his daddy carried him like a little princess. The omega wrapped his legs around Roy’s hips, feeling the hard line of cock pressing against his own soft shaft, he also held on with his arms around Roy’s shoulders, loving the way the muscles there felt under his shower warm skin. 

Keeley followed them, both utterly turned on by the show of strength and because she was a little nervous Roy’s knee would give out half way up. She also couldn’t help but watch the act play out in front of her. Yes she loved bossing Jamie around, she loved seeing Roy all dominant, she loved them both and wanted to play with them both, sure. But seeing the two of them be in their utter sexual element with each other? It was… art. It was beautiful and messy and natural and it made her feel kind of honored to be able to watch. She’d still get an orgasm out of it, but that could come later. 

Roy dropped Jamie onto the bed, throwing the towel that had been covering him away. Jamie immediately started reaching for what he really wanted, hands reaching toward Roy’s hard cock where it hung heavy between his hairy thighs. 

“Hands off. Present like a good bitch, pretty baby.” Roy ordered as he knelt up onto the bed, watching Jamie move into the presenting position. Each movement, each chiseled muscle, moved like water under his skin in a graceful fluid motion. He easily rolled onto his belly, dragging his knees up to create a stark angle of his back. Ass raising up, thick thighs spreading, back dipping deeply, as his chest stayed down on the bed. He reached his arms out in front of him, grabbing the headboard, face stuck down into the bedding. 

“You can’t breathe like that, you’ll hurt your shoulders.” Keeley corrected and pulled at Jamie’s elbows, making him draw them back so his forehead rested against his forearms. Jamie just whined and rolled his eyes. He didn’t need to breathe. He needed a fucking. 

And he absolutely wasn’t getting it because soon the rough drag of Roy’s scruff was rubbing across his ass, a hot wet line being branded into his skin as the alpha licked a stripe across his plush skin leading to the warmed end of the plug. Jamie cried out, grabbing the soft bedding below him. 

“You said you could hold still. Show me you can be a good boy.” Roy said as he laid down behind Jamie, pulling his hips down a bit. Jamie bit into the bed as he breathed in deep, waiting for whatever was next. Keeley sat beside Jamie’s head, one hand finding his hair, the other reaching under the waistband of her pajama bottoms. 

Roy nuzzled the inside of Jamie’s thigh, causing the boy to cry out again as his skin grew red from the alpha’s stubble. He was marking Jamie. And that just made the omega moan out that much louder as Roy pulled the plug out of Jamie. 

Jamie shivered as Roy’s breath washed over his exposed hole. He knew he was leaking, knew his thighs were trembling, but all he could think about was how alpha’s hands held him down. Owned him. 

“That’s fucking stunning. What a pretty bitch” Roy growled out as he stared down at the meal laid before him. He breathed in the pure scent, eyes rolled back in his head before he dove in.

Jamie’s skin was smooth and he tasted so sweet, the soft little hairs that covered him held in that sweet scent. Roy moaned out as his tongue easily slipped into the omega after only giving a few long licks. He felt drunk. His hands grabbed at Jamie, his waist, his thick thighs, his unbelievably soft ass. He couldn’t help but shove his face closer, needing more of the caramel sweet slick that was flowing from the omega. He was in his own world. 

And Jamie was so out of it. He couldn’t tell whether or not he was screaming, moaning, or just had his mouth open. He’d never felt so good . Roy’s tongue was fucking into him, licking up all the slick that spilled out, sucking on his rim, scruff rubbing his sensitive skin raw, hands grabbing and holding him down. It felt so good, he tried his best to stay still but he couldn’t help try and push back against Roy’s face. Keeley’s nails scratched and rain lines across his scalp. He was surrounded by nothing but feeling. The feeling of the sheets and blankets below him rubbing against his chest and his overly sensitive cock were pushing him closer and closer to cumming. 

Keeley was enjoying the show more than she thought she would. Fingers rubbing quick circles over her clit, occasionally rolling down through the slick mess that was drenching her underwear. She couldn’t decide what was better to look at, Roy’s growling desperate way he ate Jamie out, or Jamie’s blissed out face as he cried out and moaned, all shook up with a thunderous purr. She could feel Roy moving the mattress as he rubbed himself against the mattress without meaning to, and Jamie holding onto the sheets for dear life. It was art. It was exactly what both boys needed, what they wanted, what they craved . And it was fucking hot. 

“Gonna- fuck please - alpha- mommy - cum gotta cum” Jamie struggled out between the ‘ ah ah ah’ s that were overtaking his every breath. He was crying again, turning his head to look up at Keeley. His face was wrecked, tears, blush, and eyes a shimmering golden color.

Keeley nodded, bottom lip caught in her teeth, she was almost there herself. A few more quick tight circles and she was gasping into her own orgasm, nails dragging across Jamie’s scalp as she grabbed up his hair. She rode out her orgasm watching as Jamie shoved back against Roy’s face, hips bucking chaotically until he was screaming out. 

Roy grabbed Jamie’s hips, working the boy through his orgasm. He kept licking inside Jamie until he was sobbing from overstimulation. Even then Roy only pulled back to lick up everything that had escaped him, running his tongue gently over Jamie’s hole and down to lick at his small soft balls. 

Jamie was panting, dizzy and happy, smile plastered to his face. Keeley was running her fingers through his hair with her still shaky hand. He didn’t know nor care about anything. Alpha was happy and mommy was happy and he was happy and everything was perfect. 

“Fuck.” is all Roy said as he knelt up, hand finding his throbbing cock. He moved so he was over Jamie, just nearly touching the sleepy omega. He growled out as he came, hand flying over his cock as he painted Jamie’s back and ass with ropes of cum. Not as much as if he hadn’t come a few hours before, but enough that Jamie would smell like him for days. 

Jamie giggled, looking over his shoulder at Roy who was panting, forehead resting against the omega’s shoulder blade. 

“You ate me out” Jamie said in a dazed way, giggling as he relaxed against the bed. Keeley broke out in a laugh too. She had her head thrown back catching her breath but the omega’s little giggles pulled her back to the present. 

“Your face is so much worse than when you do me.” She said and reached over to the bedside, forgoing the tissues to grab the pack of wet wipes from the drawer. 

Roy was blushing, he felt good but he didn’t mean to get so… wild. He was just so overcome with need … that didn’t happen often anymore. Keeley reached forward and began cleaning his face, scrubbing lightly at his stubble. 

“You did such a good job. I’ve never heard him purr like that before. He’s so happy. You made that sweet omega so happy. He feels so good because of you, Roy.” Keeley whispered as he noticed Roy begin to get into his own head. Roy just looked at her as he wiped off his hand. He nosed at her cheek till she faced him, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. 

“Thank you. Do you want me to, um… do you the same?” Roy asked, needing to get an orgasm out of her soon so he could crash back to bed. Keeley shook her head and put a clean wipe in his hand and wiped off Jamie’s back. 

“No need, already came. You two were so hot. You definitely have to do that again, after we get him to the clinic and get him settled.” Keeley said and laid back down beside Jamie once the omega was wiped off and clean. 

Roy finished cleaning himself off before laying down beside Jamie. He didn’t know if he should touch the now sleeping omega or not but it was out of his hands soon enough. Jamie was a cuddle bug regularly, he was practically an octopus during his heat. Head lying on Roy’s shoulder, arm laying across the alpha’s hairy chest, fingers caught up in the thick chest hairs there, leg thrown over Roy’s own. It was bliss. 

He was fast asleep when Keeley got up to clean and sweep up the broken glass in the kitchen. And when she got her phone from the charger to snap just a few quick pics of her boys. 

She just wanted a memento in case there wasn’t a next time. But that was unlikely. 

[sonickedtrowel]

binary solar system

Another one-shot chapter!  the prompt here is.... is I wrote pregnant River and young babies/kids with these guys when I had absolutely no idea what I was talking about and I'm sure if I went back and read it after having 2 babies my soul would cringe out of my body. So instead let me just present you with this, a scene from Darillium which hopefully resonates more with those of you out there who have reproduced. 12/River ao3 link

“What the hell even is a round ligament?” River asked, unceremoniously flinging a pamphlet from the obstetrician’s office over the arm of the sofa and onto the floor.

“Er,” the Doctor carefully began, “I think it’s—”

“I know what it is,” she snapped, which, honestly, he should have seen coming.  “I know because it simulates me being stabbed in the abdomen eighty three fucking thousand times a day.  Round ligament.  Fucking bastard traitor.”

There were a lot of things about humanoid pregnancy that were significantly improved upon by living in a sufficiently advanced society with decent modern medicine.  Safe, well-tested anti-nausea medications.  Effective preventive treatments for life-threatening complications like pre-eclampsia.  The highest quality of monitoring and interventions available for any foetal developmental concerns.  Advanced surgical techniques and augmented healing technologies that made the dangerous and unpredictable old-fashioned mode of childbirth a thing of the past— evolution truly had dropped the ball on that one.  

But there were some things that remained, as River succinctly pronounced, “total shit.”

“Why don’t you lie down for a bit, dear?” the Doctor suggested.  “I’ll start dinner, you get some rest.  Doc—”

“I swear to god,” she interrupted, “if you say ‘Doctor’s orders,’ you can kiss this face goodbye, because I will shoot you in it.  And if the next one’s hot I won’t even feel bad.”

“Fair enough,” he replied, valiantly struggling to choke down a laugh, because he felt fairly sure that would not go over well at the moment.  

“Anyway,” River lamented, “resting is the problem.  Obviously I need all the rest I can get, but I can’t get any because when I lie down there’s a, a bowling ball, just— rolling all around in there, bouncing off my round ligament whenever I try to move a half an inch— oh, but if I don’t keep flipping sides like I’m being cooked on a spit I’ll throw out a hip!  And the stupid app said they’re only the size of a, a— what is it this week?”

“Rhodocrosian dwarf leek,” the Doctor supplied helpfully.

“Which is fucking meaningless, by the way, because the proportions are not even remotely comparable— but the point is,” she stressed, stopping mid-pantomime, “whichever way you measure a spring onion, or whatever, it should not be big enough to be smashing my ligaments!”

“I think it’s supposed to get better soon,” said the Doctor, crouching in front of the sofa and laying his hand ever-so-carefully over the upper curve of the tiny swell in River’s belly, avoiding the bastard traitor.  “Remember Dr. Kiril said something about touching the abdominal wall?  Not as much rolling around once the bowling ball’s out of room.”

“To be replaced with something even more dreadful, no doubt.”

“I’m sorry, dear.  You’ve definitely got the worse end of this deal.”

“And to think, we spent all that time trying to make this happen,” she sighed.  “I’ve been so spoilt, always being a bit superhuman.  Healing quickly, never having to feel my age or the little inconveniences and indignities it normally brings.  Making a baby sounds so magical and romantic in the abstract but it’s all been so… biological.  All the scans, all the hormone testing— do you know how long I’ve been pissing in little plastic cups?  Three years, Doctor.  Every month: ovulation tests, pregnancy tests, then start all over again.  So much hope tied up in such an unappealing ritual.  Like making a little advent calendar of urine.”  He failed to suppress his laugh at that, but River smiled, wearily.  “At least I only have to do it at appointments now.  There’s not a shred of dignity left to me in this entire business.  And what a way to spend what’s meant to be our longest honeymoon.  It’s all terribly unsexy.”

“Well, there were quite a few sexy parts, as I recall.”

“If you don’t mind being on a very strict schedule.”

“I didn’t mind.”

“Doctor,” River said solemnly, and he took her hand, as he knew well now when she was bravely preparing to say something important, against many decades of instinct to bury it instead.  “Have we just… thrown the biggest spanner you could possibly imagine into everything?”

“Well… yeah, maybe, a bit,” he replied— there was, of course, no use pretending otherwise.  “But in a good way.”

“But, it’s— it is completely mad, isn’t it?  We’re so happy in our life, let’s blow it up on purpose.  I couldn’t fathom loving another person like I love you, but instead of just enjoying that incredible, rare, precious thing, we’ll make a new person from scratch!  Who are we to make a person?  Why does anyone ever do something so obviously insane?”

The Doctor laughed softly, stood, and settled carefully down beside River on the sofa, giving her room to gingerly rearrange herself against him.  

“It’s just so hard to imagine what it will really be like,” she mumbled into his shoulder.  “It’s— it’s like moving the stars.  Adding a second sun to a solar system.  Everything’s going to change, and it can’t all be for the better.  When there’s more light, some things will burn.”

“Well, you’re not wrong about any of that,” he said, carefully draping his arm around her and threading his fingers through hers.  “But we do have a pretty extensive record of doing completely mad things.  It’s our speciality, really.  And, you know… it is very normal to have doubts about such a huge change.”  He pressed a kiss to her temple and she curled a little more into his side, her breath hitching as she winced with the movement.  “It’s a leap of faith with a very long way to the landing.  You’ve got to get through a lot of wild thoughts on the way down.  And thank you.  For telling me how you’re feeling.”

“Well, I appreciate you not pointing out that I sound like I’ve completely lost my mind.  I have actually noticed.”

“Nah,” he scoffed.  “You just sound like you’re… growing a new sun.  You’re handling it magnificently.”

“How are you so bloody calm about it, by the way?” she grumbled.

“Oh, don’t worry, dear, I’m an absolute mess.  This is what we call triage.  You just carry on and I won’t have to pay any attention to me— doing me a favour, really.”

“Mm.  Sounds healthy.”

“I think, in this specific case, it’s sort of the natural order of things.”

“And you know, of course I’m worried but… I don’t actually have any doubts.  I don’t even know this person yet, and they’re making my life an enormous pain in ways I’d never imagined, and I don’t regret it one bit.  Isn’t that strange?”

“Well, not so strange.  Love is like that.  No one ever said it made sense.”

“What, no ‘biological imperative’ talk?  No human hormones hijacking my brain?  Suddenly when it’s our little foetus it’s all mushy stuff?”

“River Song, let me tell you something very important right now.  It was a hard lesson to learn, but ever since you came into my life, it’s all been mushy stuff.”  She laughed, and turned her head to kiss him, the tension tangibly melting out of her shoulders as her lips lingered against his.

“Oh,” she moaned, “I would really, really love you to take me to bed, if I could move at all without the stabbing.”

“How about I do take you to bed, get you all set up with your pillows and wedges and noodles and whatnot, and we can see how the bastard traitor is feeling later.”

“Okay,” she sighed.  “Oh!  Oh, there it goes— put your hand right here!”  She grabbed his hand and pressed it very firmly to her stomach, which was alarming considering how she seemed not to be able to do anything without incurring the round ligament’s wrath, but then—

“Oh!”  The Doctor could feel the sort of grin taking over his face that River teased would make him look like the Grinch, if he weren’t so pretty.  (He wasn’t so sure about ‘pretty’ as an appropriate adjective for this face, but had decided not to object.)  “Hello, there,” he said softly.

“You really felt it this time?” she asked, beaming back at him as she pressed her hand down over his.

“Yeah, just a teeny tiny little… poke.  A little hand?  Little foot?”

“My bet’s on little elbow,” she said, cradling the tiny curve of her belly.  “I’m sure a half-developed leek with pointy elbows and no body fat would look fairly ghastly, but… they certainly are sweet from this angle, aren’t they?”

“Yeah,” the Doctor agreed, though it came out with a gravelly waver to it.  “The sweetest.  Well, easy for me to say; I’m not getting poked.”

“I think that’s my favourite part, actually.  Like they’re saying hello.  Then it’s not some big unimaginable unknown we’re waiting for, it’s… just this little one right here.  Already keeping me company.”

“So maybe there is a little magic left in the process?”

“I guess so.”  River smiled with the sort of Christmas-morning delight he’d hoped would fill every moment of their night on Darillium, and the Doctor thought having two suns in his life seemed like the perfect number.

[vizthedatum]

CW: vent post that includes mention of abuse and suicidal ideation (I’m having flashbacks and nightmares)

—

I can’t sleep. The more I’m safer and the more I actually realize how much better off I am, the more my brain comes online. Which means, I can access my memories and feel them.

I’m feeling all of it lately.

My period came in earlier today, and I also had therapy.

I am full on sobbing now… again.

In the fall/winter of 2022, I was teetering between giving up everything and trying to survive.

I’m sobbing because (and some of my close friends, my last three therapists, and my psychiatrist know this) if I hadn’t left my ex-spouse when I did (reluctantly and with the help of my friends), I would have absolutely killed myself.

I thought my life was over. I tried my best, this was the best it was ever going to get, and I was going to alienate all my friends, the people I was in love with, my family, and everyone else… to try to be with them and then eventually end it all.

Sometimes I felt like that’s what they wanted.

I remember the last week I was with them - they yelled and said so many hateful things to me, almost drove me out our home by inching me towards the door… after they were done, I retreated upstairs to the bathroom while they called their mom to complain about me. They were worried I was going to abuse my medication and wanted to take it away. Their mom told me they couldn’t take away my medication.

I mean, yeah, the level of psychosis and control and insecurity has gotten out of control. I felt so unsafe all the time. I was in a complete state of dysregulation myself - pleasure seeking and holding down my emotions while trying to figure out my next steps.

My whole body had a reaction. I was in autoimmune shock most of the time.

I couldn’t function when I was with them without self-medicating and being on so many psychiatric medications.

I loved them.

I felt so selfish wanting to end it all. I had another partner!!! I loved so many other people. How could I leave when I had begged my brother for the past decade to not kill himself?! How could I dare??

They wanted me to isolate for 30 days when I was last with them. They didn’t see me as a person at that point - they hurled contradictory statements.

I tried to be considerate of their mental health but they were painting me out to be the one who needed help and intervention… when I was having a reaction to them.

I loved them with all that I had.

And I loved other people who were letting me just be me - and a part of me resented that.

I hated who I was because it felt like my very being was the thing my ex-spouse couldn’t stand.

—

I’m crying less now. After writing all that.

I don’t hate myself now, and while life is still hard… it’s not like that. I don’t have someone actively hating and demeaning me.

And I have left so many old friends and flames who even hinted at disrespecting me.

I’ve been protecting myself. Hard.

It’s just that… I’m safe now and I don’t need to protect myself that hard anymore.

I’m letting go and integrating all at the same time. It’s painful because I realize how bad it was but how good it is now and how good it can be.

But I’m still heartbroken - I always will be. I’m heartbroken because I was so close to ending it all after all that I had survived (worse things than that relationship). I’m heartbroken because I’d have left and not told the person I loved that I loved them (and I guess I never did anyway because I was immature and knew it would end our friendship).

I’m heartbroken because I lost that person… my best friend, the supposed love of my life, and spouse… to save myself.

[jerseyclown]

I work at a store known for their "beauty supplies" and something I have learned that the most popular remedies usually include rice water, castor oil, and rosemary oil.

Another potential option is hair supplements (folic acid, biotin, etc) or seeking out actual medical intervention in the form of like hair implants or some type of medicated product that I am sure exists.

You mentioned this hairloss is caused by testosterone and I think it is safe to assume this is probably genetic. When people go through any kind of hormonal change, hair changes very easily and there isn't always a way to fix or revert that change without damage to the hair itself or not being able to actually change it. I have seen people put in the effort for several years snd slowly get somewhere but you gotta be in it for the long haul. So yeah, tl;dr there are 100% things that can be done for hair loss but it's a lot of time and experimentation

I hope this was at least some kind of help or is able to steer you in the right direction 💘

tysm for your help and advice! i rly appreciate it