#but it just gets worse the older I get and the more I feel like my time is up

[evanbi-ckley]

He feels like he’s being weighed down. Like he’s under water or a heavy blanket. His limbs are heavy, and he can’t get his eyes to open. There’s muffled sound nearby, but he can’t make out anything coherent. He’s also really warm. Uncomfortably so.

Is this what death is like? Is he in Hell? Or something Hell-adjacent? Were all the fire and brimstone idiots he refused to give the time of day actually right about something?

But then the heat is gone and there’s a cool breeze that skims across his skin.

Does he have skin? Do people feel their skin once they’re dead?

He’s still debating with himself as he gets pulled further under.

~***~

What is that annoying, repetitive sound? Did he change his alarm? Why the fuck can’t he turn it off?

~***~

It hurts.

Why does it hurt?

He can’t even tell what hurts, but something fucking hurts.

If he could just open his eyes and get up to take some ibuprofen.

Also his nose itches. Why can’t he fucking scra-

~***~

“Fucking bees.”

~***~

He’s warm again, but it’s not uncomfortable this time. 

He feels safe. And alive. 

He doesn’t feel as weighed down anymore.

It’s difficult, but he cracks his eyes open. He’s - in the hospital? That’s definitely a hospital ceiling and hospital lights and hospital machines beeping.

He turns his head to the left - slowly - and sees his arm is in a giant cast. That explains why he can’t lift it.

He turns his head to the right just as slowly. He’s surprised to see a head of curly hair lying next to his hip, a large hand in his own. 

When he flexes his hand, the curly head pops up immediately.

The man looks at him with bloodshot eyes that clearly haven’t seen sleep in days. He’s young - not alarmingly so but certainly younger than Tommy. The stubble on his jaw has gone far past 5 o’clock shadow and has entered the realm of beard, making him look slightly older. But who -?

“Tommy?” the man asks. His voice is low and raspy, possibly unused.

“Uh,” Tommy says. His own voice sounds even worse.

Without hesitation, the man turns - without letting go of Tommy’s hand - and pours a cup of water from the pitcher on the table next to the bed. Then he brings the cup up to Tommy’s mouth, a bendy straw pointing toward him.

Tommy drinks slowly, his mouth feeling like parchment that’s been left out in the sun too long. 

“Thanks,” he says.

The man sets the cup down and says, “Yeah, so um, h-how do you feel?”

He thinks for a bit, taking stock of himself.

“Sore. Numb in places. I assume they’ve got me on the good stuff?” The man nods, a cute smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. “But there’s also the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen sitting next to me, holding my hand. So all told, I’m doing pretty well.”

The tips of the man’s ears turn pink, and a cute blush spreads across his cheeks. Adorable.

“You don’t have to flirt so hard, Tommy. You should know by now, I’m a sure thing.”

Ah, so -

“So we’re,” Tommy gestures vaguely with his head, “together?”

“Uh,” the man laughs uncertainly, “for about six months now, yeah.”

“Oh.” Tommy’s eyebrows shoot up. “But you’re so…” He trails off, not really knowing where he was going with that.

“So…what?” the man prods.

“Take your pick,” Tommy says. “Young? Pretty? Out of my league?”

“Sweetheart.” The man says it like they’ve had this discussion before, but he’s smiling. “Don’t try to amnesia your way out of being with me. I called dibs forever after our second date.”

Tommy smiles lazily. “Dibs forever, huh?”

“Yep. You’re stuck with me.”

Humming as if he’s considering the pros and cons, Tommy finally says, “I guess I can live with that.”

The man’s smile is blinding. “Evan,” he says. “Evan Buckley. In case you forgot.”

It comes back to him then - a cruise ship rescue in the middle of a hurricane, a basketball game, a kiss, a first date that ended terribly, more dates that ended perfectly, slow dancing in the kitchen, long nights together that ended too soon. A call during a bad storm, total engine failure, glass and fear and rain and acceptance and trees and blue eyes and a smile like warm sunshine.

“Evan,” Tommy says, pulling him closer. “Baby.” He kisses him softly. “I love you more than anything. How could I forget?”

Evan has tears in his eyes and leans their foreheads together when he says, “Don’t ever do that again. I thought I lost you.”

“I’m so sorry, baby. I thought so, too. I thought I’d never get to see you again. I’m so sorry.”

The next kiss is wet with tears - Evan’s or his own, it doesn’t matter. They’re here, and they’re both okay, and they’re together. That’s all that matters.

“I love you, too, by the way,” Evan says once they pull apart. “Can’t believe you waited to tell me until after you almost died, but I’ll take it.”

“I’ll say it every day until I actually die, okay?” he says. He gets a smack to his good shoulder for his effort, but they’re smiling too hard for it to have any weight.

There’s a long road ahead with recovery and therapy and stubbornness and frustration, but they’ve got this. They’ll get through it all. 

Together.

part 1

part 2

part 3

also now on ao3!

[wosoamazing]

The Descent

(Yes) I deleted my other Magda and Pernille fic, for no other reason than it was crap and this could replace it. I hope you like this fic, I did try to make it as accurate as possible in terms of the medical side of things however it may not be completely accurate. I am open to doing a part 2. 2k words Warnings: severe sickness, ambulances, hospitals/icu

You felt sick, your stomach churned and your whole body ached. Normally you would be fine sleeping in your own bed when you felt sick, but this felt different, you didn’t want to be alone, however as you stood in front of Leah’s door you hesitated, the game against chelsea was tomorrow and you didn’t want to ruin her sleep or make her sick, but the way your vision blurred quickly wiped away all of the hesitation and you gently knocked on her door.

“You’re all good to come in,” Leah called out.

“Um, c-can I sleep with you tonight?” you asked, barely audible as you avoid eye contact with her.

“Of course,” Leah replied, “do you feel sick?” she asked as she noticed your clammy skin and pale face.

“A bit,” you mumbled as you sat down on the bed.

“Okay, you get yourself comfy and I’m just going to grab some things, just in case,” you slightly nodded at her as you slipped under the covers, curling up into a ball. Leah would be lying if she said she wasn’t slightly concerned, you’d been living with her for 5 years now and you weren’t often affected by illnesses.

Whilst Leah was gone you’d subconsciously reached out for her hoodie that laid on the middle of her bed, so you could hug it, trying to find some comfort. She quickly returned with a bucket, several drinks, an ice pack, some medicine and a thermometer. 

“I’m just taking you temp quickly,” she whispered to you as she brushed some of your hair out of the way before placing the thermometer in your ear, frowning moments later, “38, you’ve got a temp, can you take these for me?” she said as she handed you your water bottle and two tablets, you did as she asked before rolling over.

“Try to sleep okay, but wake me if you need anything at all, even if just for a hug,” you nodded as your eyes slipped shut.

Leah turned off the lamp before grabbing her phone, quickly composing a message to your aunt.

To Magda: Hey, just a heads up Mini has a fever and she doesn’t look too good. I've given her some meds and she is sleeping in my bed (she asked) so I can keep an eye on her easily at least, but I doubt she’ll play tomorrow. I’ll still bring her to the game though and make sure she gets checked out by the medics. From Magda: Thank you Leah, let us know if you need any help.

Your parents died when you were a baby, and Magda became your guardian, it was only two years after she’d signed for Chelsea that you got offered a contract at Arsenal, which you took. An arrangement was made with the club that you’d live with Leah and some of the team 2 nights of the week and the rest with Magda. However as you got older and training got more intense you moved in with Leah permanently, but you still did see Magda and Pernille quite often.

It was only two hours later that you awoke to a wave of nausea washing over you, feeling worse than you ever had before, you tried to swallow the nausea however your attempts only made it worse and you knew you needed to sit up. Sitting up felt too hard, it shouldn’t have been that hard. You wanted to cry, pain had settled itself deep into every inch of your body.

“You okay?” Leah asked, as she noticed you had sat up.

You shook your head as you covered your mouth, Leah quickly placed the bucket in front of you before you started to heave violently into the bucket, your body swayed slightly and Leah quickly but carefully moved so she was sitting behind you, you inbetween her legs which your helping to keep your body steady as she rubbed her back. When you finally finished your body practically went limp as you collapsed back into her, your head lolling against her shoulder.

“Le, I don’t feel well,” you weakly breathed out, your heart racing as your whole body shivered, despite the heat radiating off you.

“I know, I’m sorry, I’m just going to check your temp again,” you hummed in reply, as she mumbled a daint ‘fuck’, the thermometer displaying 41.

“Think ’m gonna pass out,” you slurred as your body became even more heavy.

“No, you’re okay, just close your eyes and take some breaths,” Leah tried to reassure you, whilst remaining composed as she dialled 999.

-

“Can you tell me what's happened?” One of the paramedics asked as they started working on you.

“About 2 hours ago she said she was feeling sick and then just 15 minutes ago she woke up and threw up, and she was suddenly lethargic and her temp was 41 and so I called and since I called she’s thrown up twice more,” The paramedic nodded as she took over, checking your pulse and eyes.

“Okay, we’re just going to get you onto this stretcher and into our ambulance, so we can start some fluids and try cooling you down,” she said, but you could barely process what was happening, your head was spinning and you felt like you might die.

Leah sat at your head, watching as the paramedic and special care paramedic worked on you, she’d messaged Magda and Pernille after hanging up with 999 and told them what was happening. You drifted in and out of consciousness the whole way to the hospital, still however finding the conversation Leah was having with the paramedic about football calming.

Magda held Pernille’s hand tightly, as Pernille drove the both of them to the hospital. The swede could hear her heart beating in her chest as her worry for you increased with every minute. Her throat tightened as she felt the feeling of dread rise inside of her. What if this was something serious, what if she lost you too.

“What if she’s not okay, what if we’re too late,” 

“She’s strong, you know that, she will be okay,” Pernille replies as she squeezes Magda’s hand reassuringly.

Magda nodded, but she couldn’t deal with all the thoughts going through her brain. “What if this affects her career? She’s been working so hard, the world cup…” her words trailed off, the weight sitting on her chest only growing.

“Let’s not think about that right now, we just need to focus on getting her the help she needs,” Pernille replies and Magda nods and she swallows thickly.

The fluorescent lights in the ICU were harsh, illuminating the entire ward. The beeping of machines, the hushed voices and the tears from others only heightened Magda’s anxiety, they could see you slightly, through the glass doors of the ICU waiting room, the doors to your room were open and many nurses and doctors were working on your small and fragile body, the sight making Magda’s stomach churn.

“We’re here for her, and I’m here for you, you don’t have to be strong this time,” Pernille whispered as she squeezed Magda’s hand, knowing how hard it must be for her.

“Are they going to tell us anything? It’s been an hour,” Magda asked, trying to keep her tears from spilling over, she felt like she was teetering on the edge of a cliff, on the edge of just completely breaking down.

15 minutes later a doctor walked into the room, and sat down in front of them, his expression was serious but kind, “Magda, Pernille, so your daughter-” Magda didn’t hear anything else, the word ‘daughter’ hitting her like a wave, reminding her of exactly how she ended up with you as her daughter.

“Magsy,” Pernille said softly, the doctor having stopped, noticing Magda had zoned out, clearly very used to distressed families, “you’re okay,” Pernille continued, wrapping her arms around her nodding at the doctor to continue.

“She’s experiencing severe sepsis. We’ve started aggressive treatment but she will need to monitor her closely, we’re almost certain the cause is infection, we just can’t seem to pinpoint its location,”

“Can we see her? Sit with her?” Pernille asked as tears rolled down Magda’s cheeks.

“Of course, she has a feeding tube and oxygen mask currently, along with many monitors and pumps connected to her, so you just need to prepare yourself for that. Just make sure you keep your voices down,” Pernille nodded before they stood up to follow the doctor.

As they approached your bedside Magda felt the lump in her throat grow, she just wanted to be able to make everything better and she couldn’t.

“Älskling,” she whispered as she sat down in the chair beside your head, Pernille standing behind her with her hands on her shoulders, “we’re here, Älskling. We’re right here with you,” you stirred slightly, eyelids fluttering, and for a brief moment, Magda thought you might open your eyes. But they remained closed, and she felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes, she couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.

You stirred, the heaviness in your body was almost suffocating as you pried your eyelids open, only to be greeted by the harsh fluorescent lights, and the machines around you beeping. You squinted trying to focus on the figures hovering beside you.

“Älsking, can you hear me?” Magda’s voice was laced with concern, yet you could pick out the slight relief in her tone. You turned your head slightly and saw her, tears glistening in her eyes, which were puffy. You nodded, as your eyes slipped closed again, and Magda moved to hold your hand. She really wanted to just curl up in your bed with you, but that was frowned upon in the ICU.

-

It was a few hours later when you woke up again,  finally felt coherent enough to take in your surroundings, and realise you weren’t at ‘home’.

“Where…. Where am I?” you managed to croak out.

“You’re in the hospital, the ICU to be more specific, but you’re going to be okay,” Pernille whispered, both Magda and Leah asleep. You tried to reply but a wave of nausea rolled through you, forcing you to swallow your words back down, Pernille’s brow furrowed with concern, “Do you feel sick again? Do you want a bowl?”

“I-I’m okay,” you said as you shook your head.

“You’re a terrible liar, but I’ll believe you, just breathe through it,” Pernille said softly, just as a nurse walked in.

“Oh, I see we’re awake and more alert by the looks of it, I’m Linda, I’m just going to check your vitals and top you up on some medication, the doctors will do rounds soon, so if you’re happy to wait until then for information they’ll update you then” Linda said and you nodded.

“Are you all missing the game?” you asked Pernille and she nodded.

“The teams don’t know why though,” she replied and you sighed, “none of this is your fault, Chelsea will definitely win now though, with Arsenal missing it’s main centre back duo,” you rolled your eyes at her as both the nurse and her laughed.

-

After a while, four doctors entered the room, all of them holding tablets, “Good to see you awake,” one of the said, his tone professional yet warm, “you’re responding well to treatment, but we need to keep you here for observation a bit longer, at least until it’s clear the infection is going away or we find the source,” he continued speaking but you zoned out, not wanting to hear more, it was starting to dawn on you that this was a lot more serious than it seemed to be at the start. You wanted to play again, you wanted to ask if you would be able to play again. But you knew getting healthy was a priority. Not everyone makes it out of the ICU, you knew that.

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Eddie is in the middle of his biggest campaign yet, meanwhile you're sick and while out for errands you end up running into your ex.

Slight Dom vibes from Eddie. Older Eddie x reader (Eddie is 42, reader is late twenties) protective Eddie. 18+

❤️

"The campaign is the biggest one I've planned yet and all the guys are excited for it. I'll be m.i.a for a little while so try and behave while I'm gone" you sprawl across his bed and love the way his eyes darken at the sight of your naked body.

"I guess. It's more fun when I misbehave though" you reply impishly and that makes Eddie smirk just a little bit.

Sweetheart are you going to be good for me or not?" Eddie asks patiently while you pout and settle back on the bed.

"Maybe" you shrug and Eddie shakes his head torn between adoration for you and exasperation. He leans down to kiss you, loses himself in the sensation for a moment or two.

He can't get enough of kissing you, he can't get enough of feeling your body pressed against his and watching you come undone. He can't get enough of spending time with you and being with him.

He's never felt like this before until you, just so full of love and adoration. For the first time in his life he's actually considering postponing a campaign but eventually the little nagging voice inside of his head (that sounds suspiciously like Dustin) forces him out the door.

"If you need anything then you call me, okay princess?" you nod along but he knows you would never interrupt a campaign, "I mean if baby anything at all" he's still hesitant to leave but you practically push him out the door.

"Go or we all know Dustin will be here in seconds if You're even a little bit late" he scoffs but knows you're not wrong. The little butthead would send the cavalry.

With I love yous exchanged he's then out of the door and on his way to the campaign.

❤️

You were planning to hit the bookstore in town and then heading to Family Video for a movie to watch while Eddie was gone.

His campaigns were meticulously planned out and you knew this session could last most of the afternoon and some of the night.

It was so hot to watch Eddie when he was so passionate about things he loved and you had even sat in on a campaign or two, made up a character and genuinely enjoyed playing with Eddie and his friends.

Truly it would have been nice to join him today but you had been feeling out of sorts since last night and Eddie refused to get you any more sick, he had gently ordered you to rest up as much as possible and call him on the landline the minute you felt worse.

It took long enough to even get him out of the door to even go to campaign so there was no way you were interrupting him after he had spent so much time on it, you had your movies, medicine and a new book, along with soup and hot cocoa. You would be fine.

The fresh air helped and it was always lovely to see Hawkins in the fall, the gorgeous oranges, rust and golden hues of the trees, the chill in the air and Halloween decorations dotted around the town.

Your peace ends up interrupted by a very unwelcome figure. Your ex. Alastair.

"Has the freak left you all alone today?" You ignore Alastair and walk past him. God what did you see in that asshole? It was only a couple of months but you should have seen that he was a douchebag from the start.

Thankfully you had dumped him and moved on. You had found Eddie who treated you like a queen, who adored you and loved you so much.

"I'm talking to you. Stupid bitch" Alastair snarls and he grabs your arm. The violent tug makes you lose your balance and you stumble.

"Let of me" you snap and his face turns puce but before he can do anything else someone blocks him from your view.

"Clear off dickhead" its Steve and he's glaring at Alastair whose face drains of colour.

"You know I'm glad it's that freak who has you now. At some point he will get sick of your bullshit as well" he snarls and walks away.

You're teary and just want to go home. The glow of your perfect morning with Eddie is long gone.

"You okay?" Steve asks kindly and you nod still feeling shaky. You're furious that Alastair has ruined your day and gotten under your skin again, tears of fury blur your vision and Steve softens.

"Come on. I'll walk you home"

❤️

When you head back to Eddie's trailer your head is pounding and Alastair's words play on your mind. It was no good giving that assholes opinions the time of day, the thing is he always managed to say things that got under your skin or that he knew would hurt the most.

It was hard to ignore him and even though you shake up you still refuse to call Eddie. In all honesty you were nervous to say anything about this. He was so protective of you that you worried he would actually knock Alastair out for grabbing you like that.

You didn't want Eddie in trouble so you resolved to keep quiet. Though if Alastair came near you again you were absolutely kicking him in his tiny little balls.

...

You had been strangely quiet since Eddie had arrived back home, usually you were slightly mischievous, chatty and would tell him all about your day. He told you all about the campaign and how well it had gone, you seemed genuinely excited but there was still something bugging you that Eddie couldn't figure out.

Were you still feeling sick?

"Eddie, do you get sick of me sometimes?" the question hangs in the air and Eddie gapes, what? Where the fuck was this coming from?

"Of course not sweetheart. Why would you ever think that?" You shake your head and cuddle up close to him. He held you tightly, trying to soothe away what was worrying you. What happened from this morning to now?

"No reason, I just wondered that's all" he frowns and holds you closer to him, determined to let you know how much you mean to him.

"I love you sweetheart. I could never get sick of you. Please never think like that because it will never happen" the words seem to relax you but Eddie is still suspicious about why those thoughts were even on your mind.

He's determined to find out and he doesn't have to wait very long.

❤️

Steve visits that afternoon and Eddie's worries deepen when he asks if you're okay after yesterday.

"What happened yesterday?" he knew there was something that was bothering you. He should have pressed a little bit more last night but he knew you would tell him in time. He's anxious now that it's something really bad.

It must be judging from your question last night, something had put those thoughts on your mind and now he was closer to finding out what.

Steve frowns. "Did she not tell you that dickhead of an ex was hounding her?" Eddie freezes and shakes his head.

"Shit no, she looked like she wanted to tell me something all night but kept closing up. I should have known it would be something to do with him" he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath to control his anger.

Not that he was angry at you, no way. However he was angry at your ex and his inability to leave you alone. Anytime Alastair saw you it caused him to act like a complete dick, he's pretty sure the guy must naturally be an ass or he didn't like the fact that you dumped his ass.

Either way Eddie wasn't going to let the little fucker away with hurting you. He thanks Steve for telling him and for being there for you, even though he wishes he could have been there himself.

He doubts very much your ex would have said anything when he was around and was one of those people who liked to get their targets on their own.

Once Steve leaves you arrive back home shortly after, you kiss his cheek and take your bag full of groceries into the kitchen.

Eddie follows you and wraps his arms around your waist while trailing soft kisses over your neck.

"Hey princess, Steve came over today to ask how you were after yesterday" you stiffen for a few seconds but relax when he soothes you.

"That was sweet of him. I guess he told you what happened with Alastair? I've been meaning to tell you, it's just trying to find the right words but yeah he was his usual self and he grabbed me..." You turn to him but he's extremely quiet.

You must notice the dangerous glint in his eyes because you cup his cheek and reassure him that you're fine and everything is okay.

Eddie holds you close and kisses you, he's fuming that your ex dared put his hands on you and you quietly tell him the rest of what happened and by the end of it he's pissed.

"I love you so much sweetheart, so fucking much and if that asshole bothers you again then I swear I'll knock his teeth out" he seethes and you shake your head not wanting that to happen.

"I love you Eddie and I don't want you in trouble for that asshole" you rest your head on his chest and he strokes your hair.

"Oh I won't get into shit but he might" he mutters and plans to have a word with your shitty ex. There was no way that douchebag was getting away with hurting you.

"Eddie" you warn him and sigh when you get one of his charming smiles in return.

"I promise you princess that I won't harm a hair on his head even if he deserves it" Eddie vows and you nod believing him. Whatever he had planned though would likely be something Alastair would never forget.

...

Funnily enough Alistair doesn't bother you again and when you ask Eddie about it he simply says they had a little chat.

Knowing how protective Eddie is you can just imagine how that went. It must have been something that got through to him because in the rare times you did see Alistair out and about in town, his eyes would widen and he'd rush away clutching his privates and letting out a squeal.

"Eddie what the hell did you do?" you ask torn between amusement and exasperation.

"I just told him to leave my girl alone or he'd maybe be an appendage less" he shrugs innocently. "No one tries to hurt you and gets away with it" he kisses your forehead and you stifle a smile as the two of you head back home.

❤️

[balkanradfem]

Okay so I know I just hit you all with the controversial chestnut poll, but I have some new development in life that I want to complain about, and in order for me to complain about it, I need to give you the context.

I don't particularly want to give you the context. You're going to diagnose me with female socialization, and some of you will feel the urge to click the anonymous ask button and tell me off. Today I need you to fight that urge! I am feeling insecure, I am feeling lost, I'm not certain in my choices, I've acted without thinking, and got myself into a situation I can't control. So please don't be mean to me. I deserve to complain on the internet and not be called out, alright?

So this is the story of how I accidentally became a live-in caretaker for an injured, elderly woman. It's temporary! She'll get better, hopefully.

I worked for her occasionally, and she's always been kind to me. She would give me a little jar of jam sometimes, and I love little jars of jam, it's a way to win my heart. A few days ago, she called me in a panic, telling me she fell, and she needs my help. I came over, and found out she broke her arm in two places, and one of her rib is broken. She fell unconscious, after being dizzy all day, and fell on a big metal lantern, breaking it. She was now in so much pain she couldn't get up by herself, dress herself, or do any kind of household tasks. She went to the ER, got her arm wrapped up, and was trying to get a pain injection. I helped her get trough the day, and promised to come early next morning, to help her up from the bed.

Next day I found her in tears in her bed, unable to get up, desperate to go to the bathroom. It became clear she needed 24/7 assistance, and she asked me if I would move in until she got better. I said yes without thinking, because I was at this point, severely concerned, and wanted to do anything to help her out.

So this is all not so bad, right, I'm being normal, it's normal to offer help to an injured elderly woman who is nice, but there's a catch. She doesn't live alone. She lives with her older husband. Who is also disabled and can't help her at all. So in order to help her out.. I had to move into a place where a male lives. That is the worst part of this.

I'm still in the first few days of living like this, and my own life had to fall to the background. I can't go foraging for chestnuts every day, I can't go to my garden as much, I'm still going to work, just from her place. I'm overwhelmed and struggling to get used to the new situation. I'm not used to being around people at all, and now I'm forced to socialize almost all day. Caring for someone comes fairly natural! I'm already so in sync with her, she can just look in the certain direction and I know what she wants me to do. I've figured out where everything is in her kitchen, closet, and basement. She's pleased that I know how to do basic household tasks, and am willing to do it in her way. And she's nice, she's telling me things like 'thank you' and 'what would I do without you', which feels good. But I am very exhausted and sleep deprived, she wakes me up at 1am, and then 5am again, and I'm unable to fall back asleep in a room I lack familiarity with. I miss my room.

She and her husband said they were going to pay me, and in my natural ways, I said something like 'no you don't need to' which I feel like everyone will get mad at me for, but they did insist they would pay me anyway. I as usual lack the sense to care about money – someone's arm is broken, that's way more serious issue to me!

Alright so now to the part of the post I wanted to write, a fun poll where you guess, what has her awful husband done by this point :) go ahead and guess!

You have one day to guess! Which one of these scenarios happened in the first few days of his wife breaking three bones in her body. I'll tell you the correct option tomorrow!

[sixerstanley]

Hi!! Do you have any opinions or headcanons for young Stans?

hi anon!!!

how young are we talking here? i cant think of a lot off the top of my head but here's a few!

i really think that out of the two of them, stan was more of the outwardly sensitive one? at least when they were p young. but i think him being outwardly emotional would make his punishments a lot worse (ahem. would make FILBRICK a lot worse towards him) so that's why as he grew older and his father put him through boxing, he tried to embrace "being tough" as much as he could. which is why in the future and even as a teen, he tried to put on the tough guy act--it was one of the few things about himself that he actually respected, was actually PROUD of. That he can fight out of any situation, that he can go up against something and not back down.

Even though stan IS tough in a lot of ways--i do think this is all kind of a...not a ruse per se, but exaggerated by a lot. as we all know, stan has a very soft center, so i think he tries to hide that a lot of the time, to not be seen as "weak" like how his father saw him

Ford on the other hand, i think...he gets teased so much growing up he kinda learns to repress any emotion about it and bury it deep down. Hide it, like how he hides his hands. This probably makes him seem like the more level-headed twin, but i would say that my headcanon is that ford actually admired how...extra stanley was. how he put his heart on his sleeve, how he was very open and expressive about what he was feeling, unlike him. I think once he's back from the portal, he definitely notices a difference. he sees how stan is much more willing to hide how he feels about something than actually talk about it. And yeah, he's never been the talkative type either, but ford MISSES how stan was so...open about everything. Now its all covered by a tough guy act.

Lastly, im a HUGE sucker for pining. My fav type of stancest is when they haven't done ANYTHING not even as TEENS but they have felt that way all their lives, just never acted on it until they're old men. i can see them having a crush on each other as teens, and even having horny dreams or whatever, but i think before either of them can work up the nerve to do something, the college fair incident happens.

welp. that was a lot more than i thought kjdsfnjkdfs hope you enjoyed my rambles!! also if you have any more questions feel free to hit me up <3

[the-cat-demon]

NOBODY'S SOLDIER IS SOOOO AZIRAPHALE CODED YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW

ok ok so. bare with me, this is entirely my rotted brain being full of the brainrot but i HAVE A POINT HEAR ME OUT

Ok so. hear me out. S3 Aziraphale, trying to keep of appearances, pretending to work on bringing Armageddon 2, while working on his own plan in the background

Running with bulls / Working my miracles / Holding my world together with a boot string

He's trying to execute his plan to stop Armageddon 2 all by himself, without Crowley's help (they're not talking...) scrambling to keep all of it together.

Living the dream / Benzos and gasoline / Coffee and blue light screens till the morning

He's doing twice the work, both what the Metatron tells him to do and his own plans.

If I tell you this is drowning / You tell me I'm walking on water

If he were to tell the Archangels (or anyone, really) how stressful and heavy this all is, they'd say he's lucky to be in the position he is, that he should be grateful.

I could bring fire from the mountain / You tell me it feels a little colder When he uses Heaven's time and resources to do actual "good things" and help people, they just scold him for not following the plan.

And I don't wanna choose between being a salesman or a soldier

The only options he has are to be on Heaven's side (until he was promoted, a soldier) or Hell's (the demons tempt humans to sin, like salesmen)

Just let me look a little older / Let me step a little bolder

He puts on a facade, trying to look more like a leader figure the Metatron wants him to look like.

(Don't wanna) Choose between being a butcher or a pauper

Same as the first line of the chorus.

Honey, I'm taking no orders / I'm gonna be nobody’s soldier

Self explanatory.

Sick to my skin / Watching thе news again

With every update on how the Armageddon 2 plans are coming along, he feels worse and worse.

Whatever you choosе you lose out in the long run

Regardless of which side you're on, it won't end well.

The paint on the walls / Come down like a waterfall / The goal I was aiming for was the wrong one

Hopefully at some point he will realise that he shouldn't be trying to fix the system. It's working exactly as intended. The best option is to get rid of it entirely.

I know this is brainrotted as fuck BUT I'M RIGHT

[egophiliac]

Since book 7 part 5 (the part where we meet Meleanor/Maleanor 👀) is coming to EN this month, i would love to see your take on lilia’s proposal to meleanor! i mean they were like little kids right? it couldn’t have been that serious…i think the only reason she even brought it up again is because she could tell lilia still genuinely loved her…(even if he didn’t realize it himself?) but, oh well! Let’s think about silly childhood shenanigans to numb the pain! ^_^ (orz)

oh shit?! get ready for a doozy guys, it's comiiiiiing ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

I chickened out of posting the whole thing (look, I get VERY carried away when it comes to these wacky kids and their Tragedy), but I do believe that it probably ended with Lilia getting embarrassed and just shoving the first thing he sees into his mouth to try and cover for it.

(we're just lucky it wasn't a frog this time)

[tinystepsforward]

ngl it makes me want to die a little bit that it's so often trans people who feel that sex is mutable but oppression is always-forever based on asab in ways that allow them to demand that information from other trans people. like it feels fucking bad. it feels bad when it's people holding up someone who posts a lot of selfies as transition goals to a degree they have to clarify what they have or haven't done or what "direction" they're going in, it feels worse when people are out there like "caster semenya is not tma" or whatever the fuck. i am, as always, not a trans woman, but here's a sentiment echoed by many of the trans women around me who log the fuck off, quoted directly from one: "people who draw a clear line where they say that semenya or khelif are tme and then call me tma are just calling me male at this point".

like i get it. i really do. we seek community and shared experiences, and we feel betrayed when people have less in common with us than we thought they did. [*more on this later.] but that's not those people's faults and my god in the case i'm seeing play out on twitter rn this poor person did absolutely nothing to intentionally mislead people, just posted pictures of their actual kid self. who looks a lot like i did, because shockingly enough "we can always tell" doesn't fucking work for trans people either!

on the one hand i move in intersex circles which are unapologetically welcoming in cis "dyadic" people with pcos, because it serves nobody to draw a clear line where mutilation or genetics or some ineffable childhood suffering are what make somebody intersex, especially when most of us (esp in places like nz) have never been karyotyped and are being treated for symptoms without a pinned-down cause anyway. the more of us there are the stronger we are, the more pressure we can exert on a medical profession which doesn't like to consider how common outliers are, how uneasy sex is at all. and then on the other hand there's dyadic trans people on the internet who've yelled me out of spaces because a couple of traumatised incarcerated trans women i worked with as a prison abolitionist assumed i was also a trans woman and i didn't immediately tell them my entire csa-involved history of being sexed in varying ways as an infant and child and/or exactly how big my phallus was at birth or where in my junk config my urethra lives so they could decide i was tme or whatever.

returning to the * for a related but not identical thought: i think presuming shared experiences leads to some fucked shit in general! "oh we all had a radfem phase" or "oh we all were channers" no we fucking weren't and it's particularly obnoxious when me & mine are trying to build trans community locally to organise and resist the growing wave of far-right backlash against our existence, and there's just white people in there on a spectrum from "straight up being antisemitic and trying to get the n-word pass" through "handwringing about how they need to make space for people who aren't politically correct" to "handwringing about how brown people are right to be mad at them but doing shit fuckall". and then the other fucking brown people in the space are on some identity politics shit where they're like "trans joy inherently excludes those of us who could get deported" or "big city white queers are killing us by being visible instead of going stealth bc it stirs up the discourse" or whatever the fuck i've heard pulled out this year. there's a bunch of reasons i primarily organise outside of trans spaces and that's one of them. i've never felt more alone in spaces where people claim we're all the same than being left as the brownest moderator or organiser in a space full of people to whom "this is a safe trans space" apparently means they get to abdicate all other responsibilities not to lapse into presumed shared patterns that are fucking racist or otherwise alienating. i've never felt more alone than surrounded by exclusively trans people who sort people into boxes and assume everyone in those boxes has the transition goals they have. like i was on cypro until it disagreed with me to the point of endocrine crisis and now i'm on t and at both those points people were so fucking presumptive or entitled to my reasons or journey or personal relationship w my body

literally just submitted on (and was invited to consult on) the nz law commission's review of the human rights act and like. it's straight up fucked how many nz trans people fully do not comprehend that any "sex assigned at birth" type definitions fundamentally exclude migrants who have no way of proving it and many intersex people who happen to have been reassigned later or many times or never assigned at all as a baby. we can't make law with this shit and that's why we have to have symmetrical protections for all genders/sexes/expressions/presentations, bc naming and defining a protected class here often leaves the people who already are left out from those shared experiences of marginalisation out in the cold when they face violence

[cerise-on-top]

Hello :3 and it’s completely okay if not of course but could you do a Kate laswell x chubby s/o, your work is amazing btw :)

Hello! Thank you! Don't worry, I've written about Farah with a chubby reader before, so I can do Laswell as well :-)

Laswell with a Chubby!S/O

As long as you’re healthy and doing just fine, Laswell really couldn’t care less about what you look like, so she really doesn’t mind you being chubby. In fact, to her it’s a  sign that you’re eating well enough. However, she will sometimes make sure that you don’t gain too much weight by eating too much sugar or other things that are unhealthy for you. Something along the lines of diabetes can be fatal very easily, and she really doesn’t wanna lose you to something that could have been prevented. She won’t always go out of her way to make sure you don’t eat a lot of sugar, she won’t monitor what you eat either, but she will make you aware and wants you to be careful. I know this could cause some disagreements among the two of you, but she just really wants you to be well. However, that doesn’t mean she wants you to change, not in the slightest, she loves you as you are. As long as you’re healthy you can do what you want.

Laswell isn’t a very physically affectionate person in general, so she won’t really do much in regards to hugging or cuddling you and using you as a pillow. Sure, she’ll give you the occasional hug and squeeze you a bit, but she knows there’s a chance you might be insecure about being chubby so she won’t go out of her way to make you aware of your being chubby too much. You’re beautiful in her eyes either way, it doesn’t matter to her how chubby you are.

If you ever feel down in the dumps about it, she’ll reassure you that you’re lovely as you are, that you don’t need to lose weight in order to be the prettiest person she’s ever seen. And she really does mean it. Again, she won’t be too touchy with you, but she’ll use her words to convince you that you’re worth so much more than you believe, that all those people hating on you are simply too insecure about themselves to see just how great you are. Laswell loves you and it shows through her actions and her words. However, she will support you if you do decide to lose weight. Might sometimes allow you to have a cheat day or two, though.

[envolvenuances]

and I think child modelling should be illegal I'm not even joking

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

Interesting. Don’t necessarily think I’m autistic but I have more going on than just ADHD and I’m not sure what that is.

[icewindandboringhorror]

There's always a slight yearning in the back of my mind wishing I had been born in the right place, time, family situation, income level, etc. to have just lived in one single house for my entire life. Imagine being born in a place that still suits you, even through all of your personal evolutions and etc. The idea of deep familiarity with an area because you've lived and explored it for 40+ years, being encased in a web of memories and connections. Being able to clean out your old childhood bedroom and find personal artifacts, to dig in the yard and remember. I know those lives can still be plenty imperfect, but there's just something so seemingly solid and stable and Grounding about it that I sometimes wish I could have.. (At least from my outside perspective as someone who's moved around a bit geographically and even within the same area, never lives in the same house/ apartment /etc. for more than a few years usually.) Like... having a place that is printed upon, fully your own, rather than chronically a visitor, every thought of a space always tempered with the notion that one day soon you'll have to pack it all up again, etc. There's something peaceful about the permanence.

[bunnihearted]

🐰🩹❤️‍🩹

[luck-of-the-drawings]

THE BOYS ARE BACK IN TOWN (TO GET SPLATTERED) OOH MYSTERY! PANIC! DRAMA! EMOTIONS!! LOTS N LOTS OF MEAT, SCARES, AND DICK-OUT FUN! BLOOD IN THE BAYOU HAS GOT IT ALL BABY!!!

blood in the bayou would make SUUUCh a great campy horror movie, its real in my heart, so real.....

[tpup]

she told me i remind her of her ex, and that makes her feel protective of me. she tilted her head like a curious dog when she said that.

i wasn't sure how to word a prying question about it. i said I feel guilty when people do things for me because i don't have something to give in return. she said that was a strange way for me to have responded.

[chaseprice]

,