#first i was told to name all my diagnosis so i did and then when they were on poke number 3 for IV access

[xviruserrorx]

I will say one of the funniest parts of this last hospital stay was accidentally frazzling my nurses and doctors on accident

[kiefbowl]

I was reading an opinion piece on Kate Middleton's cancer diagnosis on CNN by Jamal Baig about the increasing rates of cancer in patients under 50. As far as 5 minutes of googling and JSTORing can lend me to believe, there's nothing illegitimate about Dr. Baig. However, I found this bit in his opinion interesting:

Now, I'm always dubious when reading anything that attributes a very broad generalized idea that changes in diets have caused an increased in cancer, because more often than not it's not pointing to an exploration of, say, increased pesticide use, but the author's personal bias against the quote unquote "unhealthy", especially those who are deemed "fat" by the medical industry.

That being said, I was curious what source he linked, half expecting it to lead to just another op-ed from some other doctor from who knows when, but I was pleasantly surprised! Written by a man named Michael Donaldson, it was an evidentiary review published in a scientific journal called "Nutrition and cancer: A review of the evidence for an anti-cancer diet."

Now I wasn't going to give the whole thing a read, but I stopped in each section, gave a quick skim to get a general vibe, moved on to the next section, etc. I was immediately suspicious that the very first line in the abstract was "It has been estimated that 30–40 percent of all cancers can be prevented by lifestyle and dietary measures alone" as that seems to be a bananas statistic to just posit, but it still had the air of scientific integrity, so I did my skim.

The first handful of sections had things that gave me some moments of pause, that this article was in fact another doctor simply cherry picking data to confirm his own biases, but nothing so egregious as to do a spit take. That comes in a few minutes. The first section that made really go hold the phone was when we got to his Flax Seed section.

Compare how he writes about Red Meat...:

(that's all he wrote, btw)

...with how he starts writing about Flax Seed:

Did I just enter a Flax Seed commercial? Does this guy work for BIG FLAX SEED? on and on he writes about Flax Seed, and I start getting a sense that perhaps this man has a Flax Seed Agenda. In any case, he eventually moves on and I quickly skim to get to the end (because it's boring among other things).

So, who exactly is Michael Donaldson?

Girl are you kidding me

The Hallelujah Acres Foundation is a FOR PROFIT company that sells a """biblical""" based diet program called the hallelujah diet and also sells supplements on said site.

Now, in case you forgot where I started with this, this was the link provided as a "source" to a legitimate doctor's claim in an op-ed about cancer that "at least part of the answer" of why cancer is increasing in under 50 patients are the "changes to nutrition and lifestyle that took hold in middle of the last century." Dr. Baig did not read this article, or if he did was not concerned that it was written by the employee of a company that profits from unscientific research it uses to sell supplements and diets. Which is worse, I don't know.

The point I'm making is that you absolutely need to be vigilant all the time. You need to understand that doctors can not only have biases, but agendas. Researchers can have biases and agendas. Scientists can have biases and agendas. And that magical thinking about real health issues that can affect your future can permeate the scientific community because weirdos write convincing enough evidence that support their already determined world view.

This kind of shit is the reason why women go into doctor offices complaining about pain in their abdomen and get told to go lose weight and come back in 6 months. This is why ideas like moralizing eating have huge effects on women's health and influence medical misogyny, and why it's a feminist issue.

[coexistentialism]

Finding Your Identities: Figuring Out Your Alters When Your Alters Aren't "Distinct" "People"

I have been wanting to make this post for a very long time now.

I have talked countless times on this blog about how a lot of the "how to figure out your alters" lists do not and cannot apply to me, or systems who may be like me, for a variety of reasons.

We do not have distinct senses of selves, we don't feel like our own distinct individuals, in any way whatsoever. There is no specific, unique, distinct "cue" or feeling or anything that tells me I've switched, or tells me that a specific, distinct alter is fronting who is different from any other alters. There is no specific, distinct THING that tells me "okay yeah that was very obviously and specifically and undeniably a different alter."

It's easy to deny you have alters when your alters are not distinct individuals who know they are their own unique, separate selves. It's easy to deny you have alters when it always feels like "you."

If you don't experience your alters as distinct 'entities' where you can obviously and distinctly refer to them as "that is (that specific alter) and that is not (these other alters)", it can be nearly impossible to figure out your alters at all.

This has been a horrible aspect of my denial since essentially the beginning. I mean, when everything online tells you that DID involves a distinct sense of "not me" to it, how can you know if you have it if it doesn't feel that way to you?

Now obviously I DO have that feeling of "not me"... It's just not described using those specific words. I was taking it all way too literally (thanks, autism NFKDSFDKJ).

It's more like "I don't really feel that way anymore" or "yeah I felt that way, but not anymore."

Or "I don't really relate to that anymore" or "I don't really like this as my identity anymore" or "I don't like this name anymore."

Or "this feels like someone else's life" (but more of a feeling, it's not like I just suddenly don't know anything in my life anymore. I know my girlfriend and love her still and I know I live in this house, etc.)

I'll feel like I am attending therapy because I have to, or I'll feel like I'm relaying information that I know factually, as if I was told a story of things that happened and I have to relay that information to someone else.

Or just generally a weird feeling that something is off.

And that's the thing - dissociation (for me personally) is less like "things aren't real" and "I'm not real" and more like just a vague feeling that something is OFF, and you don't know what, and you can't explain it.

I remember as a kid feeling like I'm the "only conscious being" or "feeling like I'm in an anime" or "acting out a dramatic scene in a movie." Now all three of those descriptions still fall under "feeling like things aren't real/etc." but I never interpreted it that way, because of how literally I take things, I didn't make the connection, because I never used the SPECIFIC wording of "feeling like I'm not real/feeling like the world isn't real/etc."

I straight-up told one of the first therapists I saw for a DID diagnosis that I "don't really dissociate at all" because I don't really experience the "nothing is real/I'm not real/etc."

This, too, brought me a lot of denial, because people only describe dissociation as "things don't feel real", "you don't feel real", "you feel like you're floating", "you're watching yourself", "you're watching the world through fog/glass", etc. And because I never really used those specific words to explain my feelings and experiences, I figured I wasn't really experiencing any dissociation, or at least just very rarely and mildly so.

That's a key thing here - the WORD CHOICES being used to describe alters, systems, CDD experiences, etc. don't really match up with my experiences at all. I take things extremely, extremely literally, and when everybody describes their alters and refers to them as distinct, different people, it's hard to feel like your experiences are the more common experience, especially when people around you might continue to reinforce that denial, by assuming you must not have alters, or you have a different disorder, etc., because you are "always awake and present no matter what alter is fronting", etc.

Your personal interpretation of your experiences matters a LOT when it comes to CDDs, figuring out if you have a CDD, and it also plays a large role into how your system might present/feel/look/what alters you have/etc.

For example, many people interpreted their alter experiences and switches as creating characters. That, then, might become a huge aspect of figuring out your alters - you might realize that many of the characters you've made (or all of them) through the years were actually alters. With that lens, you might, then, be able to have a lot of knowledge about your alters based off of that alone - those "characters" might have specific characteristics, lore, designs, etc. that you then realize were all a part of that alter.

You might also, then, find that each time you find yourself making a "new" "character", it's actually just a new alter forming/splitting (or perhaps them just finding out their own identity).

The way you personally interpret your experiences, your feelings, your life, memories, etc. all impact your alters and your system - the way your alters identify, the way it FEELS when alters front, the way your system presents, etc.

I grew up believing I was making things up and lying for seemingly no reason, for attention, because I liked being cool and special. Or that I was purposely acting out a fake, dramatic movie, just to add more drama.

In reality, I was experiencing alter switches and dissociation, but because I interpreted it in those ways, we now have a very difficult time trying to accept and believe that these are real feelings, real experiences, outside of my control, instead of me just saying things for attention and acting dramatic just because.

I also very much grew up feeling like "nothing ever sticks, so why bother taking anything seriously." Now, pretty much all of us still have this attitude, this feeling of "why bother coming up with a name, why bother taking (my feelings, etc.) seriously when it's just gonna go away and not come back."

I would feel confident in a decision or an identity or a name change and so on, only for me to change it the next day, or the next week, and so on.

This made things like questioning my gender identity and wanting to change my name extremely difficult and impossible because I could never be sure if it was going to actually STICK or just be a temporary, fleeting "phase." I became upset (and still become upset and distressed) every time everything turned out to just be a "phase" instead of a real, actual thing. I still have trouble with this. If I want to cut my hair or dye my hair or get new clothes, I will never be able to know for sure if I'll still like it in a different state. If I want a name change, I don't know if it'll be long-term or if I will change my mind the next day.

DID is more like this, and less like "I'm a totally different person with a distinctly different personality and a different name and I am not ("host")."

And if this is relatable to you, this post may very much help you figure out who your alters are.

A lot of things online that try to give suggestions and ideas for figuring out your alters in a way of "ask (your alters) these questions."

For me, I can't really do that, for a variety of different reasons - our dissociative barriers are too high, there's no inner world, and there's no kind of "distinct voices" that I "hear" speaking to me that are coming from a distinctly different "person." And since we as alters do not experience ourselves as distinct individuals where we just know who we are and know we are our own distinct individuals, it's less like asking my alters these questions, and more like asking MYSELF these questions. I want you keep that in mind going into this post.

When it comes to figuring out alters, what helps me is trying to keep track of patterns of changes in my behaviors, likes, dislikes, hobbies/interests, and more.

The following is a TEMPLATE of things you can ask yourself at different times, during different moods, modes, self-states - whatever you wanna call it.

I tried to make them as general as possible in order to hopefully make the questions apply to a general audience/a wide variety of people, instead of being too specific where they might not apply to most people.

You do not have to ask yourself all of these questions! If you don't know the answer to a question, and/or you don't want to answer a question, it can be important to write that down too! You can skip any questions or change them in any way you like.

If a question feels unhelpful to you, feel free to change it into something that might feel more helpful to you personally, and/or just remove it altogether.

Feel free to expand upon these questions! For example, if a question seems helpful to you, you might have further ideas to expand upon that question into further, more specific questions. I actually totally encourage other people to expand upon these questions and come up with more questions that could help others! Definitely share your thoughts in reblogs if you want.

I want to make it clear, first, that this post is NOT trying to make people OBSESS over this!!!! These questions are meant to help figure out alters, but don't obsess over it!

The purpose of these questions is to simply try and keep track of possible patterns of behaviors, etc., not to obsess over figuring out your alters, not to obsess over figuring out what alter you are, not to obsess over making sure your alters are "consistent all the time" or something. It doesn't matter about knowing "who" you are so much as it matters to let yourself exist as you are, at any given moment. It's to allow yourself to exist and see if there is a pattern of emotions, opinions, preferences, likes, dislikes, interests/hobbies, behaviors, and more that crop of every so often - this is what alters are for a lot of people. Like I said, it's less like "distinct, separate person" and more like a recurring pattern of the same/similar emotions/behaviors/traits/etc. that crop up every so often, oftentimes in response to things, such as topics that you may find triggering (for example: feeling like an angry wolf every time the topic of physical abuse comes up, or feeling like a scared child when you feel like someone said something upsetting), or even positive topics, such as feeling like you become a girl whenever the topic of fashion gets brought up, or feeling like you're 13 when the topic of a childhood beloved TV show comes up.

While "feeling like (xyz) in response to (xyz)" does not necessarily mean you have a CDD, this post is specifically about those experiences under the context of having a CDD. If you relate to anything I wrote in this post, it does not necessarily mean you have a CDD! Similarly, if you DON'T relate to anything in this post, it also doesn't mean you DON'T have a CDD! I am sharing this post with the assumption that the people reading it already know they have a CDD, and/or strongly suspect it.

Questions to ask myself for figuring out alters:

Month day, year. Time (or whatever way you want to write down the month/day/year/time).

What name(s) do I like?:

This doesn't have to be names of specific alters (by that I mean, you don't have to go through your list of alters with specific names to figure out if you like one of them). You can write a vague idea of what name/names you might like (such as "a name related to plants" or "a name that reminds me of the ocean"). You can write down multiple names. You can write down no name. You can write down that you're indifferent. Anything!

What pronouns do I like?:

Again, you can write down anything. If multiple sets of pronouns vibe, write that down! If nothing vibes, write it down! If you don't have any strong feelings/if you're indifferent, write that down too! If you don't know, write that down!

Are there any particular labels I feel drawn to/feel I identify with?:

It can be an LGBTQ+ label (bisexual, demiboy, aromantic, lesbian, etc.), or a label related to something else

What kind of color(s) am I drawn to?:

Darker colors? Pastel colors? Neon colors? Light colors? Etc.

What do I want to do? What would I do if I had the resources (time, money, 'skill', motivation, energy, etc.) (for example, maybe you wish you could play guitar, but you can’t play guitar, don’t have a guitar, etc.)?:

Similarly, is there anything that I might normally be interested in that I find myself no longer wanting to do?:

-- Listening to music: What songs? Am I singing along? What are the songs about? How do I feel about the music? Are there any songs I dislike? Any particular common genre/theme with the music I find myself liking right now?

-- Art: - What kind of art (Digital art? Doing makeup? Sculpting? Knitting? Painting? Woodworking? Photography? Any art counts.) - What is my art style like/what tools am I using? (If digital art, what program am I using? What brushes am I using? Etc. (Different alters might prefer to use different art programs and different art brushes!)) - What does the artwork depict? (Vent art? Are there themes of trauma? Dissociation? Fanart? Something else?)

-- Playing a game: - What game? - What am I doing in the game? Are there different game modes? If so, what mode am I playing? Is my character customizable, and if so, how does my character look? (Some alters might prefer to change the way the character looks to match how they might feel inside!) - Are there any games I don't currently care for?

-- Watching YouTube: - What is the topic of the video? (Is it about a hobby I like? A TV series? A video essay? Something else?)

-- Playing an instrument: - What instrument? - Am I trying to learn a specific song/songs? - Am I making my own music? Are there lyrics to go along with it? - If it’s a specific song (either writing your own, or trying to learn how to play a certain song on an instrument), what is it about? Any specific themes that stick out?

-- Writing: Poetry? Working on a book/short story? What is it about? What genre? (Romance? Non-fiction? Etc.) Is it fanfiction?

-- Reading: What am I reading? What is it about? What genre? (Romance? Non-fiction? Etc.) Is it fanfiction?

-- Something else…

What am I thinking about?

What am I talking about?

How am I feeling?

Did something trigger me to feel this certain way?

If something triggered me to feel a certain way, do I know the reason(s) why? (For example, if you encountered something that brings up trauma-related feelings, etc.)

You might describe your feelings in ways other than a simple “sad”, “mad”, or “happy.” You might be more specific, such as “I feel like white noise” or “I feel like a dog” or “I feel like an ocean.” This is completely valid and an important thing to keep note of as well. You can even write down that you feel tall, or you feel a different age, or you feel like a certain character.

There are many more questions that you could ask 'yourself' to get to know 'yourselves.' This list is not exhaustive, and like I said, you can simply you this template to bounce off ideas of what questions you, personally, would find most helpful!

I'd love to hear anybody's input, and I hope this post helps anyone. :] If not, feel free to share around anyway, if you want!

[ohtobeleah]

Was It Over? // Jake Seresin

-> Chapter Four: [Parental Guidance]

Summary: Jakes Mother simply cannot understand what he saw in you, your mother simply cannot comprehend why you left Jake.

Warnings: Sick!reader. Breast cancer diagnosis. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Angst, hospital & medical inaccuracies. SLOW BURN ROMANCE/ Inaccurate medical information. Relationship turmoil. Overbearing mothers.

Word Count: 4:1k

Author Note: Mothers…Especially boy mothers can just be the worst when they’re in LOVE with their sons.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

November 1st 

Bradley Bradshaw never thought he would be the person Jake Seresin called when he was in a situation and needed help, but here he was. Sitting in his Bronco outside the house of a woman he didn't know in the early hours of the morning watching Jake stumble down the small overgrown cobblestone path. The Halloween costume Rooster had seen Jake in early that night was long forgotten as the fighter pilot wore nothing but a pair of boxer briefs with his wallet and keys in the palms of his hands. 

Immediately as soon as Jake sat in the passenger's seat of Bradleys pride and joy, he could smell the liquor trying to expel itself from Jake pores. 

“You smell like a distillery and we have a HOP at 8am.” There was a very evident disdain for Jake's current state in Roosters' tone, Jake wasn’t drunk enough to miss that. “Why are you calling me in the middle of the night to pick you up anyway? What did you do this time to warrant getting kicked out?” Jake didn't respond right away as he kept his eyes staring blankly out the window, the two had only just recently been given new orders to remain in North Island permanently. But when he did speak up, Bradley's heart ached. 

“I accidentally said my wifes name while uh–yeah.” Jake didn't think he needed to explicitly tell his wingman that, during one of the first and what Jake would consider the last one night stand he’d engaged in during your separation, he’d called out your name. “Vanessa didn't really like that.” 

“Yeah, no shit.” Bradley agreed as he drove down the street. “That's rough dude.” Bradley knew of yours and Jake's separation, Jake had told him one night at the Hard Deck after he’d asked how the family was. The two hadn’t always been on good terms but Rooster liked to think you and him were close enough to send Christmas cards to. When Jake had told him you’d left? Bradley didn’t reach out—he assumed it was for the best all things considered. 

“Yeah—but you know what’s rougher?” Jake sighed as he let his head fall back against the headrest. 

“What’s that?” 

“Knowing your wife won’t ever believe you’ll change.” Bradley knew without even looking at Jake that between the mix of alcohol and his desire to win you back that the naval aviator sitting with slumped shoulders beside him was holding back tears. “And proving her right by sleeping with some badge bunny who looked an awful lot like her.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

Your home had never been so quiet with all three of your children gone. You stood in the foyer of the entryway just looking around at the mess that had been left behind. Forgotten toys yet to be put away, discarded shoes, dirty plates and cups. Pine needles that fallen from the faux Christmas tree that was essentially hanging on by its last thread. The reminisce of three young children that were allowed to be children inside the safety of their own home. 

As you wiped away the tears that you had let fall freely down from your puffy eyes, you made an effort to tidy up the house you’d be leaving in only a few short hours to leave for the hospital stay you had planned. Tiny shoes with no feet to fill, toys left unattended over the holidays simply to be replaced by newer shiner ones. 

Between now and new years while Jake had the kids in Texas your treatment plan would increase tenfold. You were scheduled for aggressive rounds of IV chemotherapy that you knew you’d have to stay in hospital for to go through, your body was barely tolerating the oral medication as it was. You were scheduled for a double mastectomy in your time at the hospital which would hopefully stop any cancerous cells from spreading to more lymph nodes and areas of your body that remained untouched. Did you have high hopes? Not particularly. But you were ready and willing to do just about anything the oncologist assigned to your particular case had recommended. 

It was going to be a rough stint, but hopefully by the time Jake returned with your children, you’d still be able to mask your diagnosis. How you were going to explain the symptoms like hair loss and suddenly having no breast tissue to Jake was something you had yet to come up with. 

But ‘New year, New me’ was looking like the best possible explanation. Maybe the new look would get him off your case a little when it came to working on your marital issues. 

As you put things back in their rightful places and tidy up, you felt your phone ringing in your back pocket. The call ID immediately made you want to cry even more than you already had been. 

“Hi mum—“ You cooed softly as you stood alone in your empty home. “I uh, I just got home.” 

“How was Jake?” Your mother asked as she drove over to yours, you could hear the difference in her voice because of the shitty ass bluetooth system she barely knew how to work properly. “Did the kids kick up a fuss?” 

“Jake was–” You would never be able to find the right words to describe your husband, well, ex-husband. “Jake was Jake mum you know how we are right now.” Your mother knew about your diagnosis. She had been the one who urged you to see a doctor after you told her you had found a rather large lump on your left breast. “And no, actually the kids were super excited to go with their dad for the holidays, I think they still don't really understand that I'm not gonna be there at all, maybe they just think I won't be there for a day or two, but uh–yeah, they were good.” 

“And how are you feeling?” It was surprisingly a rather hard question to answer as you sat down on the lounge. For the longest time you had always put your family first, made sure all their needs were met before your own. From your kids to your husband they always came first, but now? Now you had to focus on your health and put yourself first if you had any chance of getting through the next few weeks. 

“I threw up this morning–” It was your way of saying you werent travelling well at all. “After I slept with Jake–” You knew your mum would be shocked at your admission, so you closed your eyes and braced for it. The scolding, the “never sleep with an ex speech” But it never came. All that came was a sigh you couldn't tell was laced in disappointment or approval. 

“You need that man in your life darling, he's a good man, the two of you just need to work on your differences.” Your mother had always had a soft spot for Jake Seresin, for a few weeks after your initial breakup he stayed in her spare room. Jake loved your mother like his own and you knew that if you ever gave her a moment on the soap box, your mum would scream it to whoever would listen just how much you and Jake were made for one another. 

Which in your opinion was a little shitty. Jake had his own mum. You needed yours. 

“I know he's a good man mum, that's why I married him to begin with.” You sighed heavily as you laid on the lounge to ward off the dizzy spell that was threatening to throw you off balance. “But I haven't been his priority in a hell of a long time, and I owe it to myself to not go back to being a married single mother.” 

“Okay okay, well–” You knew your mum was only trying to help but it felt like the two of you had this very same conversation every time you spoke, it was like deja vu. “He won't wait around forever darling.” That fact you also knew, according to Jake himself her name was Violet or Vivian or Vanessa. Something that started with a V. Either way you knew very well that Jake wouldn’t wait around for you to take him back on his hands and knees begging. 

But at the end of the day you weren’t sure if you even wanted him to wait for you. Of course you loved Jake, with your whole heart. But right now nothing made sense to you, you were dying after all. 

“Trust me,” You rolled your eyes thinking about how Vanessa or Vicky or Veronica looked. If she looked anything like you or maybe completely different. If she had blue eyes you'd surmise that he probilby date her. “I know he won't, but he's not the priority right now, my health is.” 

“I'll be there in about an hour or two depending on traffic.” For a split second you wished it might take a little longer. Although you loved your mum dearly and appreciated everything she ever did for you, her favouritism towards your husband made your blood boil. 

“Okay, I might have a bit of a nap while I'm waiting for you, I'm feeling pretty shattered.” No word of a lie was spoken, you were exhausted to say the very least. Finally being alone and not having to be in constant caregiver mode for three young children truly had your body calling it quits. You needed sleep and so much of it. 

“I'll see you soon alright?” You mum spoke through the bluetooth that crackled and broke with the failing reception, but you heard her just barely. 

“Alright, bye mum.” You paused hesitantly as you let your eyes close “I love you.” It had been a while since you told anyone you loved them besides your kids, and for a second you wished it was Jake on the other end of the line. You did love him, probably more now than you ever had. Everything was just so messy, it wasn't fair. None of this was fair. 

“Bye Darling.” Your mum replied. “I love you too.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

“My babies!!” Janeen Seresin was in Jake's opinion, one of those women who never should have had kids, let alone four of them. Jake was the youngest of four Seresin children and the only boy. His father, Rodney, was a hard task master who no matter what Jake accomplished in his career or personal life, never seemed to be proud of the man he had become. 

“Hi Ma.” There was a pretty simple explanation for that, Jake never took a beating without getting a few punches in himself. He wasn't the kind of guy who you could beat into submission even as a teen. “Merry Christmas.” 

“Jacob oh my boy it's so good to see you.” Janeen took her youngest child in her arms in the threshold of the Sersein estate. Lavish gardens surrounded the old exposed red brick home that had been in the Seresin family for generations. Jake knew when his parents died it wasn't going to him, but to his eldest sister Julies. “Come in come in! You guys must be so tired after your flight.” 

Jake, despite being a fighter pilot who had flown some of the most suicidal missions, was a nervous flyer when he wasn’t in total control. Commercial flying wasn't something he typically enjoyed. It made him anxious at the best of times and whenever he added his children to the mix he was sure that the way his heart pounded inside his chest during takeoff was early signs of an underlying genetic heart condition he probably inherited from his father. 

“The kids are definitely a little tired, I think Sam's ears haven't really pooped either.” Jake cooed as he and his kids entered the house Jake grew up in, the overly eccentric, far too big, the annoyingly in your face house he knew you always hated. It always seemed to exemplify the two worlds you and Jake grew up in as children. 

“Grandma!” Lucy interrupted. “Mum said that Santa will know exactly where we are if we put out cookies and milk for him and carrots for his reindeer like we do at home.” Janeen chuckled at her granddaughter as Jake placed Sam on the ground to walk off with his brother to explore the mansion style home that was far bigger than the one they were used to. 

“Your mother would still have you doing those silly little things wouldn't she?” Jake bit his tongue as he watched his mother soothe a hand over his daughter's head. “Of course we can put out cookies and milk, but if I get ants you better be ready to clean them up little miss.” Lucy simply smiled and nodded in response, the dig had gone right over her six year old head. 

“God Ma you'd think you never had kids of your own before.” Jake argued in an attempt to remind his mum that his kids were only young. The magic of Christmas was important to you and him. “I'm sure Santa won't leave cookie crumbs all over the house.”  

“Santa isn't who I’m worried about making a mess–” Janeen tried to say the loud things quiet while around Jake's children, but the intent in her words was still as loud and as obnoxious as ever. “How is your mother Lulu? I’m sorry she won’t be joining us for Christmas and new years.” 

“She’s been sick the past few weeks.” Jake frowned at his mothers smile, she left little to the imagination about her opinion of you. “But she’s better now.” Jake wasn't so sure of the statement his daughter made, the way you were only on your knees this morning throwing up into the toilet bowl made him frown in response. Jake had this gut feeling he couldn’t get rid of it no matter how hard he tried not to think about it. Was something wrong with you? Like, more than just a long winded flu? Who even gets the flu for three weeks these days? 

“Oh I’m sure she is dear, right before her big trip away hey?” Ever since you and Jake separated, Janeen Seresin had been pushing for Jake to file for divorce and full custody. No one got to leave her perfect angel boy. In her eyes Jake could do no wrong, he was her angel, her precious baby boy that no woman could ever be good enough for. 

“Yeah! She’s going to the snow with a bunch of her friends Grandma.” Lucy replied, she didn’t understand her grandmother’s resentments just yet. That or it went right over the little girl's head, either way Jake was thankful for her innocence. 

“Oh I know your dads told me all about your mothers grand plans.” Janeen rolled her eyes pretty heavily at the idea you were off whoring yourself out on a ski trip out of the country while her son was tasked with looking after the three children you had with him. 

“Ma, drop it will you?” Jake urged. “She’s allowed to go away for the holidays, she’s pretty much had the kids all year.”

“And why is that?” Janeen retaliated as little Lucy walked off to find her brothers. Jake followed his mother into the dining room where festive decorations dressed the dining table. Perfectly set and prepared. A stark contrast to your old chipped four seater dining table that had soggy cheerios spilled on the top just this morning. Jake much preferred the cheerio-covered table to his mothers perfectly decorated one. 

Fuck, Jake thought to himself the more he looked around. His kids were about to mess this place up. He knew deep down that would bring you a little solace. You knew Janeen was sour on you. The idea of the kids making her life just a little more chaotic would normally make you chuckle.

“Because I live and work in North Island now, I don’t have the proper work schedule to take three kids on by myself.” That was the appropriate and only answer, but Jake knew his mother saw it differently. “I don't have to means to look after them myself–Y/n does, we both agreed on that when he split.” 

“She’s keeping those kids away from you sweetheart.” Jake couldn’t have rolled his eyes harder if he tried, he’d been home for all of what? five minutes and already his mum was disrespecting you. “You don’t see those kids nearly as much as you should and it’s her—“

“Don’t you think that’s more on me then it is on her?” Jake argued back. “Come on ma you know exactly why we separated, I wasn’t putting in what she was giving and it damn near killed her. The last thing she needs is a custody battle.” 

“What you ever saw in that woman I’ll never understand sweetheart.” Janeen cooed as she reached up to touch her son's cheek. “I always knew she was never good enough for my baby boy.” 

Jake wanted to argue, he really did, but it was Christmas and his entire family would soon be filling the Seresin estate. So Jake pressed his lips together and leaned in to press a kiss to the top of his mothers head. He didn’t want to ruin yet another family holiday. He didn’t want to be dubbed the family disappointment because of his separation. Although he knew that's exactly what he was. 

He just wanted to be loved. And at this point Jake was gonna take that love whenever the hell he could get it from. 

***~***~***~***~***~***~**

“Y/n–” At first you didn't respond, but as your mother shook you as you slept on the lounge and called your name a few more times, you finally woke up. “Y/n, babe jesus have you been asleep since we got off the phone.?” It took you a moment to come back into your body as you wiped the dry drool that had leaked from your mouth onto your cheek. The discombobulation was clearly evident to your mother as she stepped back a little to give you some space. 

“Yeah, I guess so.” You mumbled as you sat up. “I'm just really–” The all too familiar feeling of bile rising came hard and came quickly. “Oh god mum, get me a bucket!” The look of panic written in the tired lines on your face was enough for your mum to realise what was going on. 

“Oh shit hang on.” Your mother hurried into the laundry nearby and searched high and low for something you could use, but you decided soon thereafter that it was quicker if you booked it into the kitchen and puke right into the kitchen sink. “Y/n! Oh god are you alright darling?” 

For a single mother of two children, yourself and your older brother Carson, your mother did alright for the hand she was dealt. On the younger side, your mother always seemed a little ‘Childish’ in her nature and mannerisms. But she was your mum and you wouldn’t change her for anything. 

“I'm fine–I just–” You couldn't keep anything down to save your life right now, so when your body wanted to expel any form of bile it was just stomach acid and remnants of whatever you had most recently eaten. Your mother did her best to comfort you as you coughed and splatted your gagged in the kitchen sink for dear life, she could tell your body was weaker than it ever had been just from the way you trembled under her touch. 

It broke her heart to see you like this, so sick and fragile. You did well to hide it though, for what it was worth she thought you looked relatively healthy still. But it was still early on in your journey. 

“I'm so scared mum.” You cried out through gags as you stayed bent over the sink coughing and crying. This wasn’t fair, you had a family to think of, kids to watch grow, a husband to hopefully fall in love with all over again. How could whatever god was up there do this to you? Why did this happen? Why you? What had you done so wrong to deserve this untimely fate?

“It's okay I've got you baby.” Your mother cooed as she rubbed circles into your back with her open palm. “Im here, I’ve got you now, let's get you ready to go up to the hospital hey, you wanna take a shower or?” 

“Let me just brush my teeth–” You sighed as you spat into the sink to clear your throat. “I should ring Jake, make sure they got in safe.” 

“I'm sure they’re just fine, he’d call if there was a problem, let's just focus on you for once.” You didn't want to feel like you were neglecting your children but you already felt like you were. They were your entire world, putting yourself first just wasn't in your nature. But as you thought about calling, thought about just sending a text, you looked at your phone to see a missed call from Jake about twenty minutes prior and a few text to follow. 

:Lover: “Kids and I are here safe, ma’s on her fuck the ex campain already and dads nowhere to be seen.” 

:Lover: “Hope you're enjoying your kid free afternoon, safe flight tonight, text me when you get into Calgary.” 

You couldn't help but to smile as you pocketed your phone, you'd call Jake later once you were settled into your hospital room. Right now you just needed to finish packing, brush your teeth and get over to the hospital for your admission time. 

“He loves you so much.” Your mother reminded you as she followed you up to your room to help you finish packing. 

“I know he does.” You really weren't in the mood to be discussing the state of your marriage right now. “He deserves better, someone not riddled with cancer cells.” 

“Is that why you won't even consider the idea of getting back together?” Your mother was nearly flawed when you silently nodded in return. “Y/n, don't you dare–” Again, you didn't want to talk about it. Between Jake's mother not being your number one stan and your mother playing devil's advocate what seemed to be twenty four seven, you were just over everyone having an opinion. 

“Mum! He didn't care about me enough when I was healthy and happy and his wife! What makes you think he’ll care now that I’m literally dying!” You shouted as you threw a pair of extra soaks into your luggage bag. “It's not fair, none of this is, but I left him well before I got sick and me getting sick doesn't change the reason I left.” 

Your mother didn’t respond, all she did was stare at you worryingly from across your bedroom room in silence. It looked as if she was trying to figure something out, read your face, understand what was going on. Then, after a few short moments of silence she spoke. 

“Your father and I went through something very similar before he died.” Your parents had been divorced for three years before your dad died in an awfully unexpected car accident. It shattered your mum, you knew it did. “We never did get to a point where we could resolve our differences.” She explained softly as she walked over to help you pack the last few items. You let her help you fold some T-shirts, Jake's old T-shirts, as she spoke. “This past year watching you and Jake go around in circles about how much you both still love each other and how desperately he's willing to change in order to keep you is so infuriating because you, my baby girl, have already decided you're not worth loving because you’re unfortunately going through something I can't even begin to comprehend.” 

“He couldn't love me before mum.” You simply sighed in defeat, god it was like you were going around and around on a ferris wheel. “What makes you think this changes anything?” 

“That man has never stopped loving you Y/n, he just got a little lost, we all do.” 

“If you had a chance would you take dad back?” It was a question you'd never asked before purely because you were afraid the answer would be no. now? As you tried to navigate the best thing to do for yourself, you desperately hoped the answer would be yes. Perhaps then you wouldn't feel so torn about hating to love Jake Seresin and his ability to captivate your entire being. 

“Without a shadow of a doubt my dear.” You’d never seen your mother have to hold back tears so hard before in your life. She was watching her only daughter go through a battle she wouldn't wish on her worst enemy as well as trying to help you through your separation. Although sometimes unwarranted and unsolicited, she was still your mother. 

“Without a shadow of a doubt.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~**

Tags: @blindedbythelightt @starset21 @tayl0rhuynh @mamachasesmayhem @marvelogic @itsmytimetoodream @maverick-wingman @kodzukenmaaa @eternalsams @seitmai @nota-professional l @jessicab1991 91 @hardballoonlove @senawashere @lafrone @fanficfandomlove ve @withahappyrefrain @dizzybee03 @maisie-rebloging-blog @goldenseresinretriever @a-reader-and-a-writer @sunlightmurdock @shelbycillian @memoriesat30 @accioprocrastination @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @athenabarnes

[drchucktingle]

mr. dr. chuck, i'm a few months ago i told a doc of mine that i believe i'm on the spectrum (after yeeeears of considering all the reasons why i thought so) and she agreed with me. then i came to some conclusions about members of my family. then i started melting down and haven't really recovered.

i'm in my 30's, but my life feels like it's been the mistake-addled 24th year for over a decade. people, choices, wants, they feel like things that were silly blips and not of much substance. i'm tired and my body hurts, so it feels harder to get to things i need. doctors don't seem like they can be trusted because of all the other ways i show up in the world.

i'm worried about my life and my future, and it feels like my magic is gone (or that i can't touch it right now). do you have any words of wisdom for someone who found out this really big thing about themselves kind of late?

thank you.

hello buckaroo thank you for writing. first of all i will say MOST IMPORTANT thing to remember is that it is okay and valid to FEEL the way that you feel. your reaction to this news or any news really is not wrong. that does not mean you cant wish for another reaction or WORK TOWARDS another reaction, but in grand cosmic sense this is just your way. YOUR TROT IS VALID and we all have our own unique way. sometimes that path is an easy path with sunny days and smiles and a glorious view, and sometimes it is through the darkness of shadows or crawling through the old bog. we can PREFER one path over the other, but neither is WRONG.

when giving advice old chuck tries to not PROJECT what i think YOU should do because that is not really the point. this is your trot to trot and i do not think it is my place to act like some authority of your way. what chuck can do is tell you MY story of diagnosis and how it made ME feel and maybe you can take little pieces of that for yourself.

chuck learned of way on autism spectrum when i was in early twenties by doctor who said 'yes this is your way'. when i learned of my spectrum way my reaction was: wow this is very very cool i am so lucky because all of my heroes are autistic and now i am in this RADICAL CLUB. we are special and unique and DANG what a treat wish i could have a membership card in my wallet to show all my buds.

now obviously this is not everyones reaction, but as starting off point i wonder what it would have meant to my future if the news would have HIT ME IN A BAD WAY. if i would have felt let a dang robot alien who didnt belong. maybe id be swimmin through the bog ever since.

thing is I LIKE ROBOT ALIENS they are very cool. doctor did not MAKE me different, i was different already, our talks just popped a nice little name on it for me to take or leave. i took the name proudly because DATA from stars trek (certified robot alien) is exactly how i already felt and dang what a cool character and dang what a great life. so was DAVID BYRNE. so was every cool buckaroo artist that i liked. cowboys are OUTSIDER HEROES and that is how my autism makes me feel.

so like i said, i do not know about YOUR way, but MY WAY of hearing this news was heaps of joy and excitement. i will also say that it is very DIFFICULT to find this reaction later if your first leap is feeling in a sad way about it. so maybe if you want to trot back in your mind to those first few steps it would be helpful. maybe mentally trot to where you were pushed off a dang cliff and think "well was i pushed off a cliff or was i just told 'hey bud youve been floating this whole time?"'

because if youve been floating then DANG thats a lot of power. thats not falling. you can float up, you can float down, you can float side to side.

the next thing i will say AS AND ARTIST is that years of toiling and feeling aimless are NEVER actually aimless when it comes to creation. and to LIVE in a human body is to be an artist, because you are CONSTANTLY CREATING the future. when i am writing and i dont have an idea for my next book that can be frustrating, but it is also PART of the process. if i walk to the store to rustle up my mind, or wander around the park, or spend a whole WEEK feeling weird because of writers block THAT IS ALL PART OF MAKING GREAT ART. that is not wasted time. in other words, your years of toiling are not wasted time, that is just the process we all have when we are creating a future masterpiece.

[swissboyhisch]

New York Luck

Pairing: Mat Barzal x Reader

Summary: After a lovely holiday, your partner breaks up with you and so you turn to your only friend in the city.

Word Count: 1055

A/N: I'm not super happy with this. I feel like it's rushed but I want to put it out anyway.

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THE MASTERLIST JOIN THE TAGLIST HOCKEY DISCORD

Why is it that every time you come to New York, something bad happens. The last time you had gotten your shitty diagnosis. This time your current boyfriend and yourself had decided to go on a holiday to Hawaii for a week and of course, an hour after landing back in New York he decided to break your heart.

Something about not being ready for a relationship. Apparently. And here you were ready to tell him I love you on your holiday but held back because he was a little distant at night. That’s why you’re now standing in a Walmart; wearing a pair of sunglasses trying to find food.

Sadly you can’t even go home. In three days you have to have another surgery. A different one to the last time you were in New York. Now you’re stuck in the city, alone and crying your eyes out. Dealing with health issues and a break up. What a great combo. And to make things worse, you can’t even drink away your emotions!

Aisle by aisle, you grab chocolate, some cupcakes, cheese and crackers, a bit of everything. Oh and a bottle of coke, can’t forget it. That’s when you heard a familiar voice calling your name. You turned to where the voice came from. 

“Mat?”

One of the few people you knew in the city. Mat wasn’t a stranger to you. Quite the opposite actually. The pair of you grew up together then reconnected later on once he had been drafted. After a couple hook ups since the reunion, you two were close when you did meet up.

“Are you okay?” Mat questions, spying your reddened cheeks just under your glasses. 

“I uh… Yeah,” You tried to brush it off. Discreetly wiping the stray tears that dripped down your cheeks. “Just some personal stuff.”

The hockey player wasn’t buying it. He had known you long enough to see through your lies. Even if they were really bad like the one you just told. “Okay, what’s up? I know that’s a lie. You were literally just in Hawaii.”

“Stalking my insta?” You joke weakly.

“Gotta see what my favourite girl is up to.”

That made your heart hurt more. Here Mat was calling you that where as your ex could barely call you his girlfriend in front of his friends. God, you thought your relationship was great. Fuck. How could you be so blind. 

“Yeah we got back this morning and then he broke up with me an hour after we landed.”

Mat immediately brought you in for a hug. “Shit. He’s an asshole for that.”

“Doesn’t help I have surgery friday,” You add, sniffling.

“Another one?” Mat sighs. “He’s a coward for breaking up with you before that. It’s a dick move.”

You shrug off the comment. “I’d rather him do it now then drag it out. Now I can just focus on myself. Gonna get snacks and have a night in my hotel. Maybe get ice cream from the place next door.”

“Can I join?” Mat asked. 

“Are you sure?”

Matt agreed and the two of you finished grabbing snacks for the night and finished Mat’s shopping. He brought groceries for his apartment so the two created a plan. First, drop off Mat’s groceries to his apartment. Then head to your hotel to have a chill night. 

You two arrived back at your hotel, which was quite a fancy one since you and your partner had planned to stay there together. First, before retreating to your bedroom, you stopped by the ice cream place and got way too much. Enough that Mat’s nutritionist would cry at the thought of the hockey player consuming all that sugar. 

“This is nice.” The two of you walked into the nice hotel room. A modern style hotel room on the 9th floor. A king sized bed in the middle with the bathroom off to the left as you walked in. There was even a window with a blind in the shower. “Have you stayed here before?”

“Yeah, my ex worked nearby so I’d stay when I’d come to visit him,” You respond.

Mat grabbed the bag of snacks and put that on the counter, wrapped you in a hug and dragged you onto the bed. The smell of his cologne filled your senses. Despite your old hook up ways with Mat, the familiar scent still gave you butterflies.

“I wanna have a shower and get into my pyjamas,” You sighed, pulling away from Mat. You grabbed some clothes and went to go to the bathroom when a sulking sound came from the boy laying on your bed. When you looked at him, he was pulling the puppy's eyes. “What? Do you wanna join?”

“Please?” You giggled and agreed, leaving him to join you when he wished. “Thank youuuu!”

The bathroom was really modern. A large mirror in front of the sink and a huge shower with a rainfall head. Your favourite type of shower. After turning on the water to your preferred temperature, you stripped and got into the shower. The water felt calming as you stood under the stream. 

“Heya,” Mat mutters as he slips into the shower. 

You leaned into the hockey player as he wrapped his arms around you. This wasn’t the first time you had showered with him. But let’s just say usually, a simple shower wasn’t just that. 

“Are you okay?” Mat asks as you’re unusually quiet around him. That question just makes you break. A flood of emotions coming through. Mat was quick to pull you closer, tight against his naked body as you started to sob. “He’s an idiot.”

“What’s wrong with me?” You cried.

“Nothing. I promise you it’s him. He’s the worst person for doing this to you. He’s the problem.”

Once you had calmed down and the two of you had finished washing, you changed into your pyjamas and cuddled up on bed with a ton of snacks surrounding the pair of you. Mat had signed into his Disney. You allowed him to pick what the two of you would watch for the night. When you saw the intro it solidified the hidden feeling for him. It was your favourite show.

“Thanks for this,” You mutter to Mat.

The brunette kissed the top of your head. “Always.”

TAG LIST

@findapenny @mp0625 @hischierhaze @11zegras @lvrzegras @francesfarhadi @cixrosie @daisysthings

[upslapmeal]

Notes from the Taskmaster 16x10 recording

The last two episode recordings I went to, I meant to make comprehensive notes when I got home afterwards that I would be able to look back at and post when the episode aired. I did not, in fact, end up doing that. So this time I was determined to have lots of notes, and made them on the go in the breaks in recording. However. They were made in a rush and I never went back through them to pad them out (you'd really think I would have learned by now). So instead of just having to rely on my memory, I ended up with an almost coded list of words and phrases that it's taken me pretty much 2 weeks to sit down and decipher lol. So with that said:

the pre-episode Greg-Alex entertainment was Greg getting Alex to sing a song about a recent news story to the tune of a song suggested by the audience - in this case it was Trump's lawsuit (the one in May 2023 since there are...a few) to the tune of Wuthering Heights

Alex really went for the whole live thing, and was constantly referring to it throughout the episode

when the contestants came onstage, I obviously first saw Sam in his bright colours and blond hair

we were right on the back balcony and my first impression from that distance was that he kinda looked like Jamie Laing lol

Greg made a passing comment about how he's been dressing in grey but I was completely taken by surprise when the vt rolled and he looked completely different!

I had assumed he'd actually buzzed his hair and didn't realise it was a wig until the ep aired

Sue made comments throughout the episode about how Sam looked like Dahmer

Lucy's prize task story, unsurprisingly, went on for ages and included a whole story about the holiday they went on that I tragically cannot remember

I was so glad they didn't cut 'untaffled' because I looked through my notes before again before watching the episode and couldn't for the life of me remember what she'd said

Greg's said that his immediate response to naked Alex in the prize task was that he was 'smooth like an eel'

After Julian's prize task there was a discussion about how people wanted to be buried, and at one point (I wish I could remember the conversation leading up to this) either Greg or Alex said they would be buried 'together forever in the Victoria monument'

There was a whole long debate about whether Sam intended to use nature as part of his doughnut task, and whether the bird toppling Ms Doughnut to her death should be counted

Greg told Sam to 'convince me to give you 3 points'

Sam went on talking about how amazing nature is and how we're all connected and at one point said 'consider the statistics.....3000' (I'm 99% sure this is what he said and I didn't just forget the rest of the quote)

Julian's exercise name was absolutely not a one-off, to the point they started running a 'cunt count' for the episode

Sue talked about how she had recently had an ADHD diagnosis, and that she kept viewing tasks holistically rather than paying attention to the details. This was specifically in relation to the exercise where she just did the same thing 4 times

I'm not sure if we saw the full extended version of Hotel Taskmaster, but we definitely saw a cut that included more than the aired version (though tbh I think they do that for most tasks and I just noticed this one bc we got the extended version)

We got an 'I put it to you' from Greg that Alex-as-Qrs looked genuinely cool

Lucy described Alex as having 'tight metallic buns' which Greg later referred to as his 'robot arse'

I cannot stress how much of a breakdown Susan had in the studio about the forks and marbles - you get a glimpse in the episode but that was nothing!

Susan also took AGES to do her throw in the live task - she kept on being about to throw before being interrupted, or saying her arms were too short, or that she needed a wee, or having a fit of giggles, and the longer it went the worse it got lol

Greg and Alex also had a go at it, and Sue wanted another go without the pressure. Greg and Sue got the ball in but Alex didn't

Don't ask me to remember the context, but at one point during the record, Greg told a story about someone he knew (whose name he said he would tell the others backstage) who would have sex in a cow mask and would demand 'LOOK AT ME!!!'. Anyway that was referred back to a few times in the ep

When Sam was given the trophy he just stood near-motionless with it for what felt like ages before we got to the hugs and everything

And now we enter the magical world of ~what on earth was this note referring to~ where I just hope someone else who was there (@politicalprocrastinator how's your memory?) sees this and can fill me in on what I've forgotten:

At some point around the prize / first task I wrote 'correct dog guess'. Whose dog? What was being guessed? Absolutely no idea

At some point there was a joke about the 'former Prime Minister', I think the idea being that by the time the episode aired we'd inevitably have a new PM? but I honestly can't remember

Someone called someone else submissive in a way notable enough for me to have written 'submissive' as a one-word bullet point, but not notable enough for me to actually remember

And now three bullet points which I will present in their original form:

Birthday

Bum hole in back

Get in bath

[arlana-likes-to-write]

Second Chance - Chapter 4

Masterlist

Warning: mention of weight loss, reader lowkeye almost blacks out, mention of medication, Tony is a good dad

Relationships: Tony x daughter!reader, Yelena x reader

Word count: 2.5k

Goodness, you were nervous. Your leg would not stop bouncing. The only time you had this much anxiety was your first doctor’s appointment. Every sense then, you got used to going alone, holding the weight of whatever news you received on your shoulders alone. Why was it so hard being here with someone? You glanced at Tony through the corner of your eye. He seemed equally as nervous as you waited for a nurse to call you back. He was hiding it, focused on whatever he was looking at on his tablet. But he was stiff as if he was glued to the chair he sat in. And when the nurse called your name, you both jumped - lost in whatever world your mind was creating.

You followed the nurse to the back, stepping on the scale to get your weight before heading to a room. “How are you feeling, angel?” She asked as you sat in the chair next to the desk. Tony sat in the chair in the corner.

“I’m doing good, Pam,” you made a note to remember the name of every nurse at the office. They were all saints and on your gift-giving list for Christmas.

“Are you just saying that because your father is here?” She questioned as she took your temperature. “97.8.” She documented it on your chart. Next, she placed the blood pressure cuff on your arm. It was your least favorite part, you hated how tingly your arm felt. You gave her a sheepish smile.

“Just the normal fatigue and light-headedness,” you admitted, looking down at the pattern on the floor. She took off the cuff and shook your arm to regain the feeling.

“Blood pressure is normal,” she sat down at the computer. “You’ve lost some weight since your last appointment. Are you eating?”

“Yes Pam,” you sighed. “Food just tastes weird.” You loved Pam but every time she was your nurse you felt like you were being scolded like a little kid.

“Protein powder and shakes,” she said. “And try small proteins throughout the day instead of three big meals.” You nodded.

“I’ll make sure she’s eating,” Tony said. “We all will.” You knew he meant that.

“Do you need any refills on your medications?” She asked. Your medical team had you on Zofran for nausea and a higher milligram of ibuprofen when your body ached. On the off chance, that ibuprofen wasn’t working you had muscle relaxers. But you didn’t like taking those. “Perfect. Dr. Carpenter will be right with you,” she said, standing up. “Take care of yourself, sweetheart, and call if you need anything.”

“I will,” you smiled. “Thank you.” Once she was gone, you stood up and sat on the exam table so you could lie down before Dr. Carpenter came in. You loved that man but boy he had a lot of energy.

“Hey,” you looked at Tony. “How are you?” He asked softly.

“Sleepy,” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes. He smiled.

“Well, we can go back to the tower and you can take a nap or we can go get lunch. Nurse Pam did say you need to eat,” you rolled your eyes and placed your arm over your forehead.

“I eat,” you said. Not enough but at least you were eating. You sighed. “Let’s go get lunch. Free food is good food.”

“Oh I’m paying now,” you smiled. Before he could come up with a clever retort the door opened.

“There she is,” Dr. Carpenter said, closing the door behind him. You sat up to meet the excited doctor. “How are you? Still kicking ass and taking names.” You smiled, rolling your eyes slightly as he gave you a quick hug instead of a handshake.

“Something like that,” you said. He turned his attention to Tony.

“And the man of the hour,” he extended his hand for Tony to take. The billionaire’s body shook by the intensity. “Dr. Lucas Carpenter,” he pulled up a chair to sit down closer to you and Tony. “When the nurses told me she didn’t come alone, I almost fell out of my chair. I’ve been telling this one to reach out to when we found out about her diagnosis but she’s as stubborn as her mother.”

“I’ve been beginning to notice,” you sighed, crossing your arms. They were talking about you as if you weren’t here. Dr. Carpenter laughed.

“I’ve been lucky to see this little firecracker grow up,” you saw Tony shift in his seat, the change went unnoticed by the doctor. “Somethings don’t change. So,” he crossed his right leg over his left and leaned back in the chair. “Have you told him everything?”

“Yes,” you said. Well, not everything but baby steps. “He and the other Avengers have been tested to see if they are a match.” The doctor smiled. You knew he was proud of you, you fought tooth and nail against him and the rest of your medical team to find a different way.

“If by chance we don’t find a match, what’s the next step?” Tony asked.

“Plan B,” you sighed.

“Plan B,” Dr. Carpenter repeated.

“What the hell is plan B?” The doctor grabbed a tablet and handed it to the billionaire. You knew it was your medical chart; blood work and other tests. It was a screen you’d stared at for a long time.

“Plan B is increasing her treatment,” he began. “Right now she is on a 3-week cycle- double dosage of chemo on week one, only one dose the following week, and then a week off.” Last week was your week woof, your double dose was tomorrow. “If we don’t find a match, she’ll have to get chemo every week and it be more intense.” Tony handed him back the tablet. You kept your eyes on the floor.

“What are the side effects of this Plan B?” He asked. The doctor sighed.

“Pretty much the same ones she’s experiencing now - nausea, fatigue, headache, and appetite loss but they could be more common and intense,” he explained. “It’s not even a guarantee it will work,” you stole a glance at Tony but he kept his face neutral. “However that is Plan B and we can’t get ahead of ourselves. We have to take it one step at a time, right?”

“Right,” you smiled. When you were younger, some kids were picking on you. You remember you sat in your room with your mom’s arms around you tight and you felt warm and safe. She said, ‘You never know how strong you are until being strong is your only choice.’ Back then you weren’t sure what she meant, you just wanted those kids to stop being mean. But now those words were one of the few things keeping you alive.

*

“Thank you,” you said to the waitress who placed your order down.

“Let me know if you need anything,” she said mostly to Tony. She fluttered her eyelashes and stuck her chest out. You cringed at the pathetic attempt at flirting with a married man no less. But Tony paid no attention to her, more focused on putting ketchup on his food. You cleared your throat. The sound caused Tony to look up at you and then to the waitress.

“Oh uh will do,” she smirked and walked away, taking his awkward rambling as a sign he found her attractive. You chuckled.

“She wanted to fuck you,” you said, taking a bite of your sandwich and you were grateful it tasted okay. It was his turn to cringe.

“Please never say that again,” you laughed, sipping on your water. “So this Dr. Carpenter, you like him?” You could feel the underlying jealousy behind every word. You knew he touched a nerve every time the doctor brought up your mom or the past in some way. You nodded.

“Yeah,” you said. “He’s been positive during this whole process despite how serious it is. But I did like your idea of him touching base with Dr. Cho just in case I get sick at the tower,” you added on quickly. You did believe it was a good idea, especially with how uncertain everything was. He smiled.

“Good but enough about doctors,” he whipped his hands on the napkin. “Tell me more about you. Any lucky ladies or men I have to worry about?” You felt your body warm up and looked away.

“Nope,” you said. “Single as a pringle.” He raised a questioning eyebrow at you. “I’m not talking about my sex life with you.”

“I don’t want to know about your sex life,” he deadpanned. “As long as you are practicing safe sex. I can get you condoms or-”

“Oh my god. Stop,” you cut him off. His smile grew.

“This is nothing to be embarrassed about. This is an important conversation to have.” Tony tried to drop the smile but he was failing miserably. You groaned, covering your face with your hands.

“I’m not having this conversation with you at a sandwich shop of all places,” he laughed, taking your hands off your face.

“Alright, alright,” he said. “I’ll drop it, for now.” You glared at him. “But I’m serious tell me about your life before all this, the stuff your mother didn’t mention in her letters.” You stared at him.

“You read them?”

“Of course. I haven’t finished all of them but I want to know what I missed.” Oh. The more time you spent with the billionaire he kept surprising you.

“Okay,” you smiled. “Yeah, I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

*

“I think that should be it, FRIDAY,” you said, crossing the last item off your list. You were in desperate need of groceries that weren’t going to upset your stomach, especially with your appointment tomorrow.

“Right away, Miss. Easton,” the AI said. “I’ll place the order and have them brought up to you when they arrive at the tower.” Perfect. The kitchen was put together, food was ordered, and your clothes were organized. Next on your list was to hang up some of your canvases. You swallowed an ibuprofen with a tall glass of water and ignored the ache in your bones. All you had to do was push through. You lifted a box onto the couch so it was easier to go through. Your mom always told you you had a spending problem. Whenever you traveled you bought something but you justified it by getting stuff from local artists or small businesses. Smiling, you put some pottery on a small bookshelf. Above the bookshelf, you wanted to hang up a three-piece art insulation that captured a pride of lions. You picked up a hammer and held a nail in your mouth when the room began to spin. “Shit,” you mumbled, resting your forehead on the wall.

“Miss. Easton,” the AI said. “I detect your blood pressure elevating. Should I alert the medical team?” You shook your head. That was a mistake. Black spots covered your vision and the nausea you were feeling only got worse.

“I’m good,” you managed to set the hammer and nail down before slumping to the ground. Your back was against the space on the wall and you grabbed onto the leg of the bookshelf. It grounded you and helped combat the room spinning. You whimpered and closed your eyes. Maybe you weren’t okay. You were just too stubborn to ask for help.

*

Yelena had a plan, all she had to do was unlock Kate’s door and plant the noise device. In a trade of Tony finishing it, she took the test to see if she was a bone marrow match. To be fair, she was going to take the test but why not kill two birds with one stone and ask for a small favor? “Miss. Belova,” FRIDAY said, causing her to stop in front of the archer’s door. “Miss. Easton requires your assistance.” Yelena looked towards your door and hesitated. With a sigh, she rushed over to your room. The door was unlocked and Yelena called out your name. Instead of you answering, the Black Widow heard a groan. You were sitting on the ground, head resting in your hands.

“Hey, Easton,” Yelena gently closed the door and knelt in front of you. “Hi, are you with me?” She whispered, rubbing her finger up and down your arm. It took a moment but you looked up at her, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Blondie,” you said. “What-what are you doing here?”

“Miss. Belova was the closest one to you,” the AI informed you. “I asked her to come check on you when I noticed you were in distress.” You sighed, resting your head back.

“Are you okay?” Yelena asked. “I can go get Stark or Pepper or-”

“I’m fine,” you cut off her nervous rambling. “I just,” you let out a shaky breath, and your eyes locked onto her green ones. “I-”

“What do you need from me?” Yelena found herself asking. The words tumbled past her lips without a second thought. But the way you looked at her made her heart skip.

“Can you sit with me?” You softly asked. “Just until the world stops spinning.” Yelena wordlessly sat down next to you, knees bent and she rested her forearms on top. She couldn’t help but look around your space. It was the same layout she had. Unlike the apartment she helped clean out, the place was a mess. There were boxes everywhere, newspapers on the floor, and very little stuff hung up on the wall. Yelena knew it was because you were still moving in and trying to make this bare space your new home. The Black Widow expected the place to be organized, all pristine and decorated. You seemed like that type of person.

“Your place is a mess,” Yelena said, breaking the silence. You gasped. “I’m serious,” she continued. “I can barely see the floor.”

“Oh shut up, Blondie,” you laughed. “It’s a work in progress.” Yelena hummed.

“If you say so,” you laughed again, hitting your shoulder against hers. She liked the sound of it. Oh, that was not good.

*

He was running the swaps he had available. There were a few that were on their way - the Barton’s in Iowa, Bruce in New Asgard, and Kate, America, and Rhodey were on their way back to the tower. But he had to know, it was killing him. As he waited for the tests, he paced the lap. He had to be a match, he could do this one thing for you. A ding sound pulled him out of his thoughts and he rushed over to his computer. Negative. Negative. Negative. That one word was all he saw. Until he saw something different. A positive. Someone was a match. His hands shook as he clicked on the profile. But the name made his stomach flip. Morgan. It was Morgan. How the hell was he going to tell you or Pepper?

_

taglist: @likemick,

[morimakesfanart]

Sindria's Prophet #37

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[AO3] [wattpad]

*CW-Long term affects of medical denial & child abuse, living with PTSD *Kink & toys mentioned

((I keep forgetting to tell you guys: Lyly is pronounced "lee-lee." It's short for their middle name, Llyn/Lynn (<-genderfluid affected spelling)))

~POV Mori~ I woke up gasping. I sat up and wrapped my arms around myself so I could tell the difference between actual physical touch and the phantoms left over from my night terror. My body wouldn't stop shaking; I needed Lyly's help. When I got out of bed I froze. Not only did my bed not have curtains, this wasn't my room. No. This was my room. Sinbad picked it out for me in the guest tower. I was in Sindria; in a whole different dimension. All of the adrenaline supporting me left and I sank to the floor. I was still trembling but I wasn't scared anymore. The people who hurt me couldn't reach me here. I had that dream because after spending the past month hyperfixated on the present, I had been triggered into remembering one of the worst parts of my past, so now I was remembering the rest too. 'Sorry, Lyly.' The safety I had gained in this world was invaluable. I couldn't imagine going home willing. Based on how little light was getting through the curtains it was still the middle of the night. I was drained from my dream, and my hips were still aching but it took a while for my mind to calm back down. Tomorrow and the distractions that came from it couldn't come soon enough.

--- "Alright now, Mx. Prophet," the doctor gave me my diagnosis. Sinbad had him sent first thing in the morning, and his arrival woke me up. "You need to rest for a few days. I'll have painkillers sent over to help with your hip pain, fever, and migraine." With his job done, he saw himself out. 'I can't miss the Morning Assembly! ...But-!' I knew the doctor was right deep down. I was in no condition to do much of anything. I was fine resting when I didn't have obligations, but I had a job now. If I was back home I would have had to give Lyly my keys so I couldn't leave. Five years just wasn't enough to fully rewrite my base instincts. Although, from the new memories I was gaining, the me back home was doing a bit better. Those new memories were why I was healed and practiced enough to stop myself even if a doctor hadn't told me to... especially since I had a fever. As long as both me's kept whatever this connection was then maybe we would also keep the benefits from both sides. --- ~POV Sharrkon~ Mori was the only person that missed the morning Assembly. Yamuraiha had a growing smile throughout the meetings, and now that it ended she mumbled something to Pisti. Shar groaned; he knew where this was going. "Yup." Pisti giggled. "I heard from a reliable source," probably 1 of her boyfriends, "that Mori's not 'sick'. Her hips were injured and her body over worked last night." The King refused to look at the gossips. His silence spoke volumes compared to the past month of him adamantly defending that there was nothing special between him and 'his Beautiful Prophet.' "Oh ho~! It finally happened after I left!" Hina slapped Sharrkan on the back with a laugh. "Looks like the 2 of us have to pay up! But I guess you lost the most, huh?" "Oh, no! I ain't paying nothing! Nothing happened!!" Shar had a hurt ego to nurse and he would not let them step on it harder. "Mori got hurt dancing. Our King had nothing to do with it!" Sharrkon felt a shiver run down his spine that made him hold his tongue. Hina looked to the others for confirmation. "Is that true?" Drakon answered him. "It's true. However, it's also true that Sin carried Mori all the way to their room from the festival." "Oh~? That's proof enough for me." Drakon, Ja'far, Yam, and Pisti agreed with their own comments. The man in question still refused to comment, so Hinahoho addressed him directly. "You're really not going to say anything, Sin? After all of that time, telling us how you don't want to get married?" "Fine. Fine." King Sinbad finally turned to them with his arms crossed. "It's simple really. You know I'm not the type to reveal my hand until I'm certain." Sinbad was smiling, but Shar knew instinctually the King was the threat that told him to stop talking. The giant laughed. "Is that so?" "I know you're aware this is a first for me." Sharkkon's wallet cried with him. He had lost 2 out of 3 bets. It was only a matter of time before he lost the 3rd.

---- ~POV Mori~ The Great Bell rang out. The morning Assembly was definitely over. There were several things I had wanted to do today, and I couldn't do any of them since I had to rest. I needed to meet with Queen Artemina before she left Sindria. I had to solidify our connection as allies, but she was set to leave in a day. As I wrote a letter to send her, the waves shifted. This was the right choice for me, and the future I wanted. The letter would need time to dry before I could send it. I got up from my chair and stopped. I didn't want to lay down again yet no matter how much my body needed it. 'Damnit! How much more of my life am I going to spend sick??' I groaned into my hands. I was born with a weak raspatory system, so I get sick multiple times a year and often end up bedridden. "I am allowed to rest even though I can sit up and walk. Pushing will only make it worse." My mom eventually stopped acknowledging when I would get sick due to the expense which is why I struggle to let myself rest as an adult. I made a point of putting the truth into words to fight her conditioning. I climbed back in bed even though I knew that meant I would be stuck with just my thoughts until I fell back asleep. This was the perfect opportunity to process everything that had happened with Sinbad, but I couldn't think about it at all. Being triggered, recognizing these new memories, and that night terror just made me think about home more -well the place I came from. Even when I was in my room there I often couldn't help but think 'I want to go home' because even though it was comfortable and familiar, I couldn't feel safe. My last therapist told me that as long as I stayed in that house full of reminders there was only a slim chance of me recovering from my CPTSD. If only I could have afforded to move out.

In the new memories I got, our dad finally agreed to reorganize all of the living spaces, so that me and Lyly weren't getting as many flashbacks anymore. Hell, he even apologized for everything and started acting like a real dad some of the time. The me that stayed home was able to persevere until an opening for change finally came. 'If they got Isekai now I wonder if they would want to go home?' The thought had never occurred to this me -just like it never did back when I was in in-patient. Although I was still worried about Lyly like I was then. I rolled over to pull out a scroll from the bedside dressers. When I was on the ship I had worked on all sorts of scrolls and one was a memoir of my life back home. One of the first things I did was draw the people important to me before I'll inevitably forget their faces. I unrolled the scroll. Lyly's face stared up at me from the page. As difficult as that place was to live in all of my loved ones were there. In this world there was no one that knew me, and I wasn't sure if I could let my self get that close to anyone here -especially Sinbad. He already knew how deep some of the scars on my heart are. I didn't want him to think any less of me, or use my pain against me. And even more than that, I was scared that the safety I had here would shatter if I made a wrong step. 'I thought I was doing better.' This world had treated me so well that I fell into a false sense of security. Not being surrounded by reminders of my traumas made me feel like I was somehow cured and could restart from scratch. But that's not how healing works... Being away from triggers just made it easier to avoid having an attack. It's only after feeling safe that we let ourselves feel the emotions that are unsafe to feel in the moment. A few tears fell down my cheeks. I placed the scroll on the bedside table and rolled back towards the middle of the bed. Surely it was okay for me to cry in a situation like this. I allowed myself the luxury even though the tears didn't last long. When I was young I cried just as often from joy as sadness. The abuse I experienced made it unsafe to cry at all, so I learned to cry silently until I eventually stopped crying altogether. Being in this world made me feel like it was okay again. Letting myself actually feel these emotions was an important step in the healing process. Beating myself up for getting triggered and relapsing wouldn't help at all. I needed to forgive myself.

--- One day of rest should be enough, right? It's not like I still had a fever. I didn't want to stay in my room and make an even worse impression. My hips would hurt a little if I over worked them, but that would just act as a limiter. ((<<= This person is in denial))

I got dressed after breakfast, but as soon as I grabbed the doorknob I froze. "Yeah, no." I was not in the mood to see Sinbad in person yet, and I would have to if I left my room. As soon as I took Queen Sinbad's choker back off I felt a wave of relief. It had given me so much dopamine and serotonin when it was part of a fantasy, but now it was a reminder of my fears. How could I mark myself with it when I couldn't feel safe in my own desires? Wearing it felt like a lie. I definitely wouldn't be able to wear it for a while.

'Guess I haven't completely lost my sense of self-preservation.' Besides, I hadn't actually had time to do most of the things I like doing to relax since I got to this world. Going out in this state would be worse than not going out. Another day off as I recover from the stress had to be reasonable.

But what options did I have to relax?

Everyone else was busy with work at this time of day, so I could masturbate without having to worry about being interrupted. But my toybox didn't isekai with me; I only have my hands, and some ribbons for mild shibari. Sinbad said I could make requests, but there was no way in hell I was letting him find about this, let alone use his money for my sex toys. I'll figure out where to get some after payday. The night terror was still fresh in my memory anyway.

Video games, comics, and anime were obviously out of the question. Printing still isn't big enough for fiction to be popular to write -that's part of why Sinbad's Adventure story was such a huge success. I had 3 cats back home, but I can't exactly adopt a new pet while sick. I do sing a lot to relieve stress, but it would be embarrassing to be overheard without knowing. 'Note to self: get carpets to hang up to dampen the sound.' There were places I could go that would be harder to be heard but leaving wasn't an option until I was better. That only left me: writing and drawing.

'Working on Fate scrolls it is!'

The flow of ink was good for my brain. It did more than help calm me; it gave me more perspective but it couldn't give me true answers. 'I wish we could just go back to how things were before that night. How am I supposed to know when I will be ready to see Sinbad again?' He isn't any of the people that hurt me, so why can't I just like him without being afraid of betrayal?

Were Sinbad's actions manipulation, or earnest? Could I trust the safety I felt around him? It was definitely a combination of how he treated me, what I knew from reading his Fate, and how familiar I was with being around those types of manipulation. But there was something strange. When I looked for signs of his manipulation in how he dealt with me, or any expected fallout, nothing came from it. In fact, everything kept ending in my favor. The cycle I was expecting was coming from me, not Sinbad. The waves swirled as I finally let myself think about it.

What was he actually going to say when I cut him off? Even if it was what I thought, would I be able to believe him? Even if I didn't have relationship trauma I don't think I could trust him romantically after reading his Fate. He claimed he wasn't playing the flirting game, but that could have been manipulation. Was it my heart or pride that would be hurt more if he was lying? I couldn't tell yet.

I was lonely. Both in general, and in this world. There was no one that knew me here. And I was too scared to trust the person getting closest to my heart. Even though I didn't want to be seen like this, I didn't actually want to be alone; I just couldn't shake the fear of rejection or punishment I thought was inevitable. I left my windows open just in case. ---

~POV Sinbad~ The King sat on the edge of Mori's bed. He had been unable to visit the first time she was sick. Now that he understood his own feelings he couldn't stay away unless he was on the other side of the world. The only reason he didn't visit the first day was because he knew she needed space away from him. The waves had been trying to guide him here for a while though. Who was he to deny them? No one answered the door when he knocked or called out. The silence and waves worried him. The last report said her current fever was mild, but it could have spiked since then. Mori developed an extremely high fever on the ship several hours after everyone saw she was unwell. He entered without permission only to find his Beautiful Prophet was sleeping peacefully. He had gotten to see her; that would have to be enough. Mori turned her head in her sleep and her bangs fell onto her eye lashes. Sinbad leaned over to move her hair out of the way. He tried to keep his touch light to not wake her, but her eyes fluttered open. Unfocused eyes watched him. "Sin..?" The sound of their voice was a relief. It didn't sound strained at all, only weak from sleep.

"How are you feeling?" They weren't anywhere near as bad as last time. "~*yawn* Better now that I'm awake." "Oh? Did you have a bad dream?" They watched him as what he asked slowly processed in their newly conscious state. "Yeah, I did. Thank you for waking me." "Anytime." Sinbad returned their weak smile with his own. "I guess that's why it wasn't just my waves leading me here." He hesitated. "Mori, what do you think about moving into the Purple Leo Tower? It will be easier to care for you when you get sick. You'll be safer there. And your waves could reach me faster." The same fear from the other night started seeping into their expression. "I'm fine here." But he wasn't fine. "Besides, it will be harder when I have to move out of the Palace." For a moment he forgot how to breathe. "Why would you have to move out?" Why would she ever think she had to leave?? "Would you really be okay with me staying after my visions run out?" The King couldn't stop his hand from reaching to caress their cheek, but he was able to hold back from making contact. "Of course." Mori's brow creased farther and they glanced at his hand. "What about after I share all the knowledge I have from my world? I wasn't an engineer. I only know the basics." Sinbad's heart dropped. From the beginning Mori had been marketing herself as a resource, and he had only ever responded positively. Yet another way he'd messed up without even realizing it. "Of course, I'll still want you by my side." The more he was able to peer into Mori's heart the more worried he got. "You are a person, not a resource. You do know that, don't you?" Mori closed their eyes and leaned their head towards his hand; he took that as permission. Their cheek didn't feel feverish. They spoke flatly about their emotions like they did the night of the Announcement. "I know that logically, but I struggle with knowing how to act if I'm not helping someone." They brought a hand up to his. "I really do like helping people, but sometimes it feels like that's all I am. It's what I had to do to survive since I was little." Ah. He could understand that thought process. Sinbad had been a caregiver for his mother and village from a very young age, and went straight from that to king's candidate. There was very little time in his life when he wasn't working towards helping someone. Drinking, and philandering became his break from that -although he would hopefully be narrowing that last point to one person soon. "You seemed to do just fine at the festival." So fine that he couldn't deny his feelings anymore. "Huh? -Oh. Yeah. I guess I did." Her expression softened into a genuine smile. "It was probably going around the festival that got me sick though." It was mainly stress according to the doctors' report. Mori closed her eyes with a yawn. "I'll have to keep more distance between me and the citizens next time. I didn't realize I was so interesting." "You're incredibly interesting." They let out a quiet chuckle. "If you say so." Sinbad watched and felt as they turned their face into his palm, and sighed. Mori relaxed more into his hand with each breath as if his scent and touch were comforting. It bubbled up desires he knew he shouldn't act upon with a sick or unconscious person and yet he couldn't make himself leave either. He took a moment to ground himself but it did little good. He couldn't bring himself to leave until after Mori let go of his hand. To think another person would have this much power over him. "You really are amazing." There was absolutely no way he'd ever allow anyone else to see this side of them. Mori would be moved to the Purple Leo Tower in time, and would just have to learn through experience that he had no intentions of letting them go. ---

~POV Mori~ I woke up to the Great Bell the next morning. Sinbad being here was not a dream. I had just been too groggy to question the situation. What was the point of staying home, if he was going to visit me in person?

On the plus side, seeing Sinbad while I wasn't stuck in my trauma brain helped break the cycle of questions. Sinbad might be stubborn but through his whole life he is shown being someone fully willing to change his mind when given enough information. At this point in the story he is someone with conviction who says his truth directly -even if he often speaks in a manipulative way. So when he said he's chosen a new path, he meant it -even if I don't know what that means yet. And when he is shown seducing women, the idea of moving any of them into the Purple Leo Tower would never be considered, let alone offered -even in private. And yet he offered that to me.

Sinbad was changing and I'd never be able to accept how if I stayed cooped up in my room. To understand myself, and Sinbad I needed to spend more time around him. My rest was over. I didn't need to jump all the way in at once. I'd see him at the morning Assemblies, swap pleasantries, and part ways until the next day. 'Slow and steady.' --- ~POV Sinbad~ Was this how Hina and Drakon felt when they looked at their wives before they got together? Just seeing Mori enter the halls of the White Capricorn Tower made his heart swell. And hearing their voice? Well, he was starting to understand why Ja'far had been so upset with him since they returned from Balbadd. Even seeing Mori dressed androgynously didn't shake his feelings -though it was a bit jarring after how they dressed for the Announcement. It just cemented that what he felt wasn't simply based on how Mori presented. They were undeniably the most beautiful person in the world to him now.

After going through more options than necessary, the first thing the Dungeon Capturer managed to say to Mori was, "I'm happy to see you're feeling better."

"Yes. And thank you for visiting me while I was resting." Mori's smile made him feel at peace. Seeing them up close confirmed that they cut their bangs some. "But never enter my room without explicit permission again." Their sharper tone pierced him repeatedly with each sentence. "That includes the bird by the way. If my curtains are closed or I don't answer the door: don't enter my room."

He wore a smile to ease their anger. "Of course. It won't happen again."

Even as Mori accepted his response and left, the King couldn't get his heart to stop racing. Why did there have to be so many large risks of ruining his chances when he already knew she liked him from reading his Fate?

--- ~POV Mori~

As soon as the Assembly was over, I fled to the Black Libra Tower. 'He said he was happy I was better! AND he didn't say anything about about my change of gender expression!' Sinbad said all of two words directly to me and I started short circuiting. I remembered that he offered to move me to his tower -the one he sleeps in???- and immediately went on the defensive. I was not as ready as I thought!! I was going to need my favorite hyperfixation to survive the rollercoaster I was trapped on. And if it didn't exits yet, then I was going to reinvent it myself! It would be relatively easy to make a printing press since this fanfic was in English instead of whichever Arabic language was the region's canonical one, or Japanese like the series was originated in. Both require significantly more characters than English, and some kanji can be too intricate to make with this world's current level of technology. Speaking of which, this world had stamps and seals so this next level of printing shouldn't be too crazy of a change. I took some print making classes in high school and college, so I got to use a few different scale printing presses. I knew enough to draft prototypes. I excelled at typography in college too -so well that the department head signed off on me skipping a few courses so I could get to the high level stuff faster. The typography was digital, but I still learned enough to draft prototypes of stamps and such. ('A shame I couldn't afford higher than an Associates Degrees.) Since I was working on a table in the middle of one of the libraries, people came up to ask me about what I was doing. I gave a brief summary to the latest onlooker, before I pointed to the examples I was drafting. "I see." His voice was familiar but I was too focused to register it. The person moved around the table to read the part I had finished this morning. He made a few sounds of recognition as he read. "Won't spelling out each word every time be a hassle?" "Well, yeah. It's better to have most words premade. And full lines of text can be fused together to make reprinting more issues easier and faster." He pointed to a spot on the parchment. "Ah- that's what this part is then." My eyes were drawn to the glint of his rings. Every cell in my body remade itself as my brain finally acknowledged who was talking to me. "That is convenient." Sinbad's voice was unmistakable now that I was paying attention. I prayed to every God I knew of that my emotions didn't show in my actions or voice. "This might be a new technology here, but you won't have to completely reinvent the wheel thanks to my 'visions.'" I had to focus on my breathing to keep my heart rate down. I was able to keep the conversation moving, but I wasn't sure I would remember it well. I was more focused on not looking like an idiot. We had exchanged greetings at the morning assembly but this was the first time I was talking to him fully sober in days. His polite gestures and this conversation made my heart swell, but he wasn't flirting; he was just existing while being attractive. 'Why did I have to start thinking it could be mutual??? I can't even enjoy it like this!' If anything starts there's going to be an end.

--- ~POV Sinbad~ Sinbad didn't have a 'real' reason for visiting Mori in Black Libra Tower on their first day back, but, as King, there was no one who would question him. Although, Ja'far would come to get him if he's away from his responsibilities for too long. He arrived a bit after lunch to find Mori sitting at a table in the middle of the library where anyone could and did come talk to them. The proof being that they didn't beat an eye at his questions. In fact, it sounded like they had explained about this stamp system multiple times. Mori needed their own office in the tower. He'd make sure they got one asap. As interesting as this new technology was, Sinbad kept finding himself staring at his Beautiful Prophet more. It was hard enough to focus at his own desk -let alone when Mori was right in front of him. Sinbad had heard that acknowledging the feeling makes it stronger, but he wasn't expecting this. Mori tensed for a moment before scooting their chair away from him. He had been leaning closer to them without realizing, and they moved away. How was this the same person that fell asleep holding his hand the previous day? Were they just too tired back then to remember what was going on? Did they think it was a dream? He definitely shouldn't flirt with them while they were this uncomfortable to be around him. Would they even be willing to hold his arm while they walked together? He didn't think so. Sinbad took a moment to ground. Even if Mori had turned into a feral cat or wild rabbit around him, the way they watched him when they thought he wasn't looking was a sign that they wouldn't mind being tamed by him. They had enjoyed his company before; he just needed to remind them of that. The only question was if he could regain Mori's trust before he had to leave for the Kou Empire.

((OMGOSH I did not expect this to take this long. At least a month of that gap was from back-to-back illness too, so it took even longer. My digestive track turned off for 24 hours and took 48 to fully come back online. While I was in recovery I caught a really bad upper raspatory infection that gave me a 103F fever for a week. So of course my period hit me like a freight train a week later. Somehow I was ill the weeks around the holidays and not on them, but it was a still a super rough couple of weeks. I'm better now :D which is why I was able to have the energy to write.

I processed a lot of my emotions while working on these chapters. They're all things I already knew, but consolidating them like this helped me see more of the places they were affecting me, and cement in my head that it is okay to move forward. :D

This arc is 3 chapters long including this one. Since I do have the next 2 written already, I just need to refine them and make the art, so there shouldn't be as long as a break for the next chapter. Like this chapter, they will have scenes of Mori processing their emotions. I needed a lot of time to edit them down a ton since there's obviously things I don't intend to post on the internet, and I want the story to feel good to read chapter to chapter. I've already got the next arc started too. It's a lot of character confrontations that became discarded drafts of earlier arcs, but definitely need to happen now. Since I have those drafts as a basis, I hope to get that arc ready before I finish posting this one. I have another DeadEnd chapter to post, and a few one shots I almost have ready. I've been posting wips and art for for them on patreon, but I won't be posting them here until I have full chapters ready U-U))

[fics-n-stuff]

"I love you, dads"

Pairing: Eddie Munson × Steve Harrington (but not really, this is more a story about them and their daughter (and son))

Summary: Sophia can't bring herself to call her adoptive parents, Steve and Eddie, "dad" for a long time. Same universe / continuation of The Interview (and the year and a half to follow)

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: I asked you guys to give me prompts for rockstar!Eddie teacher!Steve pt2 back in November and none of you gave me anything so this is what you get because it's all I could think of. It's been sitting in my drafts for a while because I don't love it and was hoping to think of something better. Next time you ask someone for a pt2 and they ask for prompts to use, SEND PROMPTS!!

Sophia didn't call Steve and Eddie "dad" for a long time. The dad that she'd had for the first eleven years of her life was wrapped around her heart, tangling the word up in complicated emotions. She wasn't sure that she ever wanted to see that dad again, but it felt wrong to give his title to somebody else.

Steve and Eddie didn't mind. They never pushed or questioned it. When she had asked, one day when she was fourteen, if it upset them that she always addressed them by name, they had both smiled and told her that they didn't mind at all.

"Do you mean it when you say you love us?" Steve had asked.

"Of course. Of course I love you guys." She replied.

"Then it doesn't matter what you call us. We're family and we love each other and that's all that matters." He said. Sophia had tried to hold back her tears, but when Eddie snatched her to his chest for a tight hug she couldn't stop the few that slipped out.

She referred to them as her dads when talking to other people sometimes. At school, everyone knew that she was Mr Harrington's daughter, though she had kept her original name after the adoption. She said "my dads" when she talked about her home life with friends, or "my dad" when she was talking to someone new and didn't feel in the mood to have to explain who Eddie or Steve were if she referred to them by name. If anyone asked her "is that your dad?" she just said yes and didn't bother with the nuance. She knew, in her heart, that Steve and Eddie were her dads, she just couldn't call them that.

Darcey called Steve and Eddie dad. It made Sophia feel guilty sometimes. She had been with them for three and a half years when the eight year old boy had joined the household. Darcey was sweet and had been hopping from foster home to foster home since he was four. He didn't have the same complicated feelings about calling Steve and Eddie "dad" as Sophia did, and he started doing it only a few months after his adoption was finalised.

"Just because Darcey calls me and Steve dad doesn't mean that you have to." Eddie had told her, having noticed her guilt and pulled her aside one day. "We know it's complicated for you, and if you never called us dad that would be fine with us. You know that, right?"

"Yeah, I know, it's just… if Darcey can say it after less than a year and I can't say it after almost four then… I don't know, it feels like a problem with me. Like, do I not love you guys as much as he does?"

"Oh, pumpkin, that's not something you ever have to worry about." Eddie comforted, brushing a hand over her cheek before wrapping a hand around her shoulders and tucking her into his side. "We know you love us, a simple word doesn't change that. When you call for me and you say Eddie, and when Darcey calls for me and he says dad, I answer the same way because you're both my kids and I don't care what you call me. Well, as long as you don't call me anything mean." He finished with a joke, and Sophia chuckled.

"Thanks, Eddie." She mumbled with a slight smile.

"Anytime, Soph. Come on, let's get a snack."

Eddie was on tour when Darcey got his autism diagnosis. Steve and Eddie had both been pretty sure that he was on the spectrum since back when they were fostering him, before even filing for adoption. Neither of them said it but they had suspicions that that was likely a big reason that he had bounced between homes so much. Steve was particularly frustrated he hadn't been tested before he came to them because from the stories that Darcey told of previous foster families it was clear that his needs hadn't been accommodated in those homes.

Sophia was good with her brother. She was protective of him, but not in a way that stopped him from making his own decisions. She liked helping him with his homework, the two of them sitting together at the kitchen table in the afternoons, and she often caught Steve looking on at them fondly as he cooked dinner. 

When Sophia was sixteen and Darcey was ten, they spent summer vacation bouncing around Europe following Eddie as Corroded Coffin went on tour. Darcey had hyperfixated on films and cinema in general and had started making his own little movies, so Sophia found herself starring in a series of short films throughout the vacation. Darcey filmed a lot of home videos too, and at the end of the vacation they had all sat down in the living room to watch the memories that he had captured.

Sophia struggled with her college applications. There was no use turning to Eddie, he never even thought about applying to college, so she had gone to Steve. He had grimaced and groaned.

"You know, I don't think I'm gonna be the best help with that." He'd said. "My applications were horrible, it's a wonder I got accepted anywhere."

He had instead called in reinforcements in the form of Aunt Nancy, who worked through Sophia's applications with her, encouraging her ambitions. Steve and Eddie had thrown her a party when she was accepted into her top choice college. Steve even baked a cake and everything.

It was Eddie who took her shopping for a prom dress. They spent hours shopping, Sophia trying dresses on and stepping out to get Eddie's feedback. He was surprisingly involved and enthusiastic with the whole process, and when she found the dress that she wanted he had grinned wide and planted a kiss on her forehead. When prom night came, he and Steve had spent so long taking photos that Sophia was worried that the limo her and her friends had hired together would actually leave without her.

When the time came for Sophia to start college, Steve and Eddie insisted that the whole family go to drop her off. They helped her move into her dorm and got a nice lunch together. Darcey helped her arrange all her trinkets on her desk in a way that he deemed acceptable, and Steve tacked all of the photos that she had printed out on the wall neatly. Eddie didn't do much but talk, but that made it feel more normal.

"Alright, well, I guess you really are all grown up." Steve said, looking over the room one more time as they got ready to leave. "Don't be one of those people that never changes their sheets, okay? You have three sets of bedding, you changed them every two weeks."

"Okay, Steve. I'll change them every two weeks." Sophia chuckled.

"We're gonna call you all the time. You're not even gonna miss us." Eddie smiled.

"You'll be home for Thanksgiving, right?" Darcey questioned, and Sophia nodded.

"Absolutely I'll be home for Thanksgiving. You think I'm gonna miss Steve's Thanksgiving dinner? No way!" She replied, pulling her little brother into a hug. "You can't get rid of me that easily."

"Promise?"

"Promise. And hey, if you get stuck on your homework just text me, yeah?"

"Okay."

"Good." She smiled.

Darcey shuffled aside and Sophia looked up at Steve and Eddie, who were both smiling at her with such immense pride in their eyes. She flung an arm over each of their shoulders, pulling them close as they both hugged her back.

"Thank you so much for coming to drop me off." 

"Don't sweat it, kiddo." Eddie said.

"We wouldn't have had it any other way." Steve added. "We love you, Soph."

"I love you too, dads." She muttered, and she felt it. Neither of them said anything, but both Eddie and Steve held her just a little bit tighter. 

"We're always just a phone call away." Steve smiled when they pulled away from the hug, eyes shining with unshed tears as he gently cupped Sophia's cheek in his hand. She nodded in acknowledgment, holding back tears of her own.

"We'll call when we get home." Eddie said. "See you at Thanksgiving, pumpkin."

"See you at Thanksgiving." She echoed.

Her family left, sending her off on the next chapter of her life with all the faith in the world that she could accomplish whatever she set her mind to. They hopped back into the car for the drive home, Steve behind the wheel, but didn't start driving right away.

"What's on your mind, sweetheart?" Eddie asked softly.

"We did that." Steve replied quietly. "We raised that wonderful, cleverl girl in there." 

"Yes we did, Stevie."

"She called us dads." He squeaked, a couple of tears finally falling as he smiled. Eddie smiled back, wiped away Steve's tears and kissed him on the nose.

"Yes she did." He nodded. "Because that's what we are."

"Dad, why are you crying?" Darcey asked from the backseat, taking off one side of his headphones and looking up from the video he had been watching.

"No reason, honey." Steve replied and sniffed quietly. "I'm just proud of your sister is all. Happy tears."

"Okay." Darcey nodded and went back to his video. Steve wiped at his eyes and took a deep breath, finally starting the engine.

"You're a good dad." Eddie commented.

"You too." Steve replied. He started the car and pulled out of their parking spot. "I'm proud of us as well."

[fe-fictions]

Do you have any baby fluff with Felix left? I miss him so much 😭

(How about Felix finding out that he's gonna have a baby??? That's a good one!!! U V U)

“It’s true, Byleth. You’re with child.” 

Mercedes’ words were filled with all the delight that you were currently incapable of showing. You were so shocked by your diagnosis, you could hardly believe it was true.

You were pregnant with Felix Hugo Fraldarius’ very own child. You were going to be the mother of his child...he was gonna be a Papa.

And now, you were tasked with informing him of the news. That in and of itself was horrifying (but in a good way), because while you wanted to blurt it out, you wanted more than anything to do it in a proper, appropriate way. Namely, you wanted to do something cute.

When Annette had announced her pregnancy, she had gleefully told you the story of how she had surprised her husband with a little bag of hints, like a baby’s bonnet and little shoes, and after a little while he put two and two together and was overjoyed.

Ingrid hadn’t been quite so cutesy with hers, but did come up with a unique way of telling her husband he’d be a father by telling him in the form of a riddle. 

It was certainly cute, Annette had assured her, and she wished she had thought of it.

Mercedes had yet to be blessed with a child, but she already had a plan for how she’d tell her husband. She would tell him that he had some baking to do, and wanted him to check the oven and make sure it was empty. 

He would find a single bun sitting on the grate, and sure enough, he would realize that it was a ‘bun in the oven’ and voila! She would announce the pregnancy that way.

Dorothea knew how to get under her husband’s skin, doing it in a teasing way as she typically did with all things. She told you with a giggle that she’d given her husband a leave of absence note, signed by the most prestigious doctor in the entire kingdom.

He had been confused, a bit concerned, and then he realized that she was indeed pregnant once he re-read the letter for the third time at Dorothea’s impatient insistence.

All of those were cute ideas, you had told them during an afternoon tea together, but you weren’t sure which one you wanted to do.

Felix was a fairly intense and serious individual, and as far as you knew, he didn’t have much interest in riddles or metaphors or play on word type things...yet you wanted to do all of those things just to see how he’d respond.

The girls’ reactions? All of them wanted you to do theirs and tell them which was successful.

Why not? You had said with a soft chuckle. It couldn’t psosibly hurt anything to try and tell Felix you were with child in a creative little way.

So you hatched your first plan.

Annette’s idea of giving him gifts.

“Welcome back, my love.” You greeted your husband as he came into the room, looking positively exhausted and ready to collapse on the spot. His hair was mussed from running his hands through it, and his clothes were slightly disheveled from all his fidgeting.

You knew Seteth must have trapped him in a full day of meetings. 

“That rat minister of yours scheduled all my meetings for today.” Felix grumbled, confirming your suspicions. “Why give me the option to push them back if I’m going to have to take them all on at the same time?”

“It might be due to the fact that you always postpone council meetings or discussions with village representatives the moment you get a request.”

“Everyone does that.”

“But not everyone pushes them back months at a time.” You pointed out, to which he rolled his eyes and scoffed. 

“Whatever. He shouldn’t schedule them like this just to spite me. He’s a cruel man.”

“He’s strict.” You hummed as he fell onto the bed beside you, burying his face in your chest with a tired, frustrated sigh. “You don’t have to give him such a hard time, you know.”

“He doesn’t have to be such a-”

“Felix.”

“...Pain.” Felix grumbled, knowing full well you preferred he dial down the profanity in the church, private quarters or not. When he wasn’t in a sacred place, i.e. your shared home, it was free range on language. This was just one of those times he had to behave himself.

As if he wasn’t frustrated enough, already. 

“If it makes you feel any better, I have a gift for you.” He lifted his head some at your words, though his bleary eyes made it quite clear he was half-asleep, already. You reached over the bed and picked up the bag, holding it up for him to take. “You should open it, now.”

“Sure.” He bit back a yawn, running his hand through his hair again before he took it and tore into it. He didn’t look at you when he spoke again, pulling out the tissue paper. “By the way...how did your appointment with the clerics go? Did Mercedes figure out why you were feeling sick the last few days?”

“She said I’m going to be okay.”  You said dismissively, “But there are more specific answers in the bag.”

“You just said you’d be okay, so there’s nothing else I need to worry about. I trust you.” He told you in earnest, as if it was something that needed to be proved. You smiled at him with a sense of pride. He really was the sweetest man when he wasn’t hiding behind a wall of callous and wariness. “Now let’s...let’s get into this...box...bag...thing.”

“Don’t fall asleep.”

“Please. I’m not even a...a little tired.” He yawned, shooting you a glare when you frowned at him. “I’m fine.”

He pulled out the first object; it was a dagger. A tiny sword, you thought, would be perfectly appropriate. 

Since you couldn’t exactly leave the monastery grounds to go baby clothes shopping on such short notice (Seteth would have a fit, you did what you could with what you had.

“Is this a new knife?” He held it in his hand, feeling its weight with a satisfied hum. “This is good. I’ll use this in every fight.” 

“It’s not a knife, it’s a small sword.” You corrected him. He yawned.

“By...that’s literally what a knife is.”

“No, that’s not-”

“What else is in here…” You gently took the knife from his hands, when he held it out, returning to the bag. “Is this a sugar spoon…?”

“Yes. Because it’s smaller than a normal spoon.” You explained with a little smile, pleased with your own cleverness. You turned around to set the knife on your bedside table, “See, it’s almost like it’s a baby spoon, and…”

You paused when you turned back, finding Felix fast asleep with one hand in the bag that was lopsided on his chest.

You stared at him in disbelief; the man was still in his full armor and dress. Even his coat and gloves and boots...you couldn’t fathom how he found that comfortable.

“I suppose if you’re tired enough.” You whispered to yourself, biting back your little grin. You took the gift bag and set it aside, carefully removing his clothes until he was down to his socks, tunic and trousers. It was close enough to pajamas, and was plenty more comfortable.

“Goodnight.” You whispered with a kiss to his forehead, untying the ribbon in his hair and freeing the mussed ponytail from his stress habit. You’d have to coerce him into letting you brush it out tomorrow morning.

By then, you hoped, you’d be able to put together your next attempt to tell him the news.

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

You sent for Felix in the middle of the afternoon the next day; one of the few, short times between meetings you both had. 

The messenger told you he’d be available in about an hour, which was plenty of time. You got to work preparing the dough with Ashe’s help, plannigng on making a proper bun to put in the oven. That way you wouldn’t waste bread, and you’d have a nice loaf to share with your husband and anyone else who wanted to have some.

It would be a little while before everyone started filtering in for their lunch, which you hadn’t calculated for. The same time you scheduled with Felix was the universal lunch break that most staff received in the monastery, right alongside the students.

You had called him to come  a bit before things got crowded, but the bodies were starting to filter in and clutter the mess hall, and you and Ashe both were running out of room in the kitchen area to so much as open the oven door.

“This is getting to be overwhelming, Professor.” Ashe said worriedly, “Perhaps we should remove ourselves so the cooks have more space to feed the students.”

“I think we should, but it’s almost done. I will stay here a little longer, if you’d rather leave.”

“But I wouldn’t want to leave you alone if-”

“Whoa, is that the Archbishop?? Is she cooking?!”

“O-oh my gosh, the Archbishop made our lunch, today!! We’re truly blessed!” “No way, I wanna see!” 

Within the span of about five seconds, the hectic mess hall went from somewhat organized chaos to borderline hysteria. Students clambered all over each other, trying to get a look at the Archbishop allegedly cooking their food. 

You stood there, dumbfounded, as Ashe tried to make a path for you both to get out. It wouldn’t do for the Archbishop to be harmed, let alone if Seteth found out about it. He’d have a conniption fit just based off you being in the mess hall, alone.

In a blur of noisy excitement Ashe managed to get you out of the place, the both of you nearly stumbling out and onto the pavement.

“Byleth?” Felix’s voice hit your ears and you looked up, seeing him striding up to the two of you with a curious expression. “What’s going on? It sounds like those brats are having a riot.”

“They seemed to think that the Professor...cooked their meal today. Really, we were just baking something.” Ashe explained between pants of breath, his efforts to escape with your lives having been quite taxing.

Felix quirked an eyebrow. “What kind of idiot would think the Archbishop spent hours of her day cooking food for them? Kids these days are so entitled...and weird.”

“Indeed.”

“So what were you baking?”

“Bread,” You answered quickly, “But we left it for the students. They needed it more than we did.”

“What a waste- I would tear through a whole loaf of your bread any day.” Felix said with a borderline sulking tone. You smiled, giving his hand a little squeeze.

“I’ll make more for you, later.”

While you were understandably disappointed about your initial plans going to waste, you were always happy to see that bashful blush heat up Felix’s cheeks.

You would take the positives with the negatives. In this case, the good definitely outweighed the bad.

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

You had one more plan to put into action, and your friends were getting more anxious than you were.

You made absolutely sure to write the letter in language that couldn’t have been more clear, without mentioning the pregnancy directly.

Felix was an intelligent person- he could be oblivious sometimes, and like all humans, made dumb decisions...but even he could understand what this letter meant.

There was no time to waste, so you quickly had Mercedes sign it to give the paper a convincing “doctor’s note” appearance. She asked why you didn’t just let her write it, but you hadn’t the time to answer.

Felix had another meeting in fifteen minutes, and crossing the monastery would eat up half of that time.

You weren’t going to let anyone risk this- you were going to tell him one way or another.

And this letter was the last cute way you could do it without just blurting it out.

So you rushed across the monastery with haste, your hair billowing behind you as you searched for your husband. It was Felix who spotted you first, the beautiful whirlwind his wife had become catching his eye in the otherwise peaceful courtyard.

“Byleth?” His expression darkened when he saw how urgent you looked, mistaking it for worry. “What is it, what’s happened?”

“Something’s come up, Felix-” You made it to your husband’s side in a matter of moments, breathless and rather out of character, considering how out of sorts you looked. “It’s nothing bad.”

“You look like someone declared war.” Felix replied, unconvinced. You shook your head as you presented him the letter, nearly shoving it into his hands. “Byleth, what-”

“Just read it.” You insisted, watching him the entire time as he started to look over the letter’s contents.

“Sir Felix Hugo Fraldarius, I regret to inform you that Archbishop Byleth Eisner Fraldarius will no longer be able to attend to her duties as the Church Head. This is due to a sudden and life-altering change in her life which will dramatically change yours and hers.”

Felix paused, looking up at you and searching for some sort of explanation. You ushered him to continue, the meeting just about to start.

“The condition that has befallen Archbishop Byleth will result in her being unavailable to complete her duties until it ends in roughly seven months.” Felix stopped reading altogether, his brow furrowed so deeply he looked as though he were seriously concerned.

Borderline afraid.

“Seven months? And then wh- your duties end??” He shook his head, face pale. “Byleth, w-what does this...are you ill?”

“What? No, I-”

“Oh Goddess.” He stumbled backwards, as if his knees were about to give out. He shook his head as if in disbelief, a trembling hand coming to his mouth as the letter fell to the ground. “Byleth, are you dying?”

“Of course I’m n-”

“This can’t be real. To Hells with this, it can’t be true!! I’m not-” He ran his hands through his hair, eyes becoming misty with an agitation and a fear that you were stunned to see. Felix was on the verge of panic. “You can’t just spring this on me and tell me I’ve only got seven months left with you, I- t-this can’t be true! I can’t accept that!”

“Felix, let me speak for one-”

“No!” He cut you off, grabbing your wrist and marching you back to towards the infirmary. “Mercedes signed off on it, right? Mercedes knows what’s going on- she’ll have answers! I’ll get them even if I have to force it out of her- I’m not taking a death diagnosis lying down! Not my wife!” He growled, and you didn’t know what to think. 

You were being dragged up the stares where Felix unceremoniously burst into the cleric’s office, revealing Mercedes attempting to enjoy a cup of tea.

“Hello, Fe-”

“Byleth’s dying?”

The tea cup clattered. 

“What!?”

“What do you mean, ‘What’?? You wrote the letter that said she’s dying! She’s only got seven months left before everything ends? That’s a load of horse shit! There’s gotta be something you haven’t tried, something you haven’t researched right- there are treatments for all sorts of things- white magic that cures the most toxic poisons!! There can’t be something so deadly that nothing can save her when you haven’t even tried, yet!”

Mercedes just stared at him, completely lost in the conversation, and trying to deal with the mess of tea that was spilled over her documents.

The ruckus Felix had created was leading to a bit of a crowd gathering outisde the doors, and you thought that it was time to bring Felix down.

You quickly closed the doors behind you, pulling yourself from Felix’s grasp. He turned back to stop you, but you weren’t going to let him tug you along, again.

“Felix, back up for a second.”

“I can’t stop, you’ve only got seven months before we’re out of time! The sooner we jump on this, the better!”

“Byleth, what is he talking about?”

“That letter I had you sign.” You told her, “It was the same announcement like the one that Dorothea did.”

A look of realization dawned on her face. “Oh, no.”

“Yes.”

“What did you write that has him so riled up?”

“I just wrote it the clearest way I knew how- I told him that I wouldn’t be able to perform my duties as Archbishop because of my condition, and they would have to end in seven months.”

“Oh, Professor… You should’ve just told him.” Mercedes giggled, hiding it behind her hand when Felix became increasingly more frustrated.

“Should’ve told me what?!” He demanded, “If someone doesn’t start telling me what in the Hells is going on, I’m gonna seriously-”

“Darling,” You took his shaking hands in yours, gently drawing his eyes to yours, “I’m with child.”

Felix’s hands grew tight around yours, grabbing you in a vice grip, before they suddenly went limp.

His whole body did, actually. 

His face went slack, eyes growing wide as the words slowly made their way through his system.

“You’re….?”

“Expecting.” You finished it for him, his voice suddenly quiet and detached. The anger had dissipated in a split second. Mercedes watched with interest.

“We’re e-expect...you’re….”

“I found out a little over a week ago. According to Mercedes, I’m two months along. Once I reach nine months, I will have to relinquish my duties as the Archbishop so I can take care of the baby.”

“The baby.” He repeated, as if he hadn’t quite wrapped his head around the concept quite yet. You just smiled at him, watching the gears try and turn in his head as he started piecing together the truth of the situation. 

You were going to have his child, and you were going to make him the happiest man alive- somehow, you’d managed to find another way to do that outside of marrying him.

Felix could hardly speak.

Instead, completely ignoring Mercedes giggling at him, he said nothing else and wrapped pulled you into a tight hug, embracing you with all his might as he finally came to terms with this new information.

He was going to be a daddy, and you were going to be a mommy. The mother to his child. You did that.

It was all he could do not to kiss you senseless, and more still to try not to let himself cry and subject himself to your teasing.

Though he ended up getting an earful of it anyways, since Mercedes witnessed the whole thing. 

Though once he got to proudly announce that you were going to have a (his) baby to the rest of the Lions, he didn’t mind the teasing at all.

He was just too happy.

[buntsuki]

Hello! My name is Autumn, I go by Bun, and this is Groot! He’s my emotional support dog, he’s been by my side since he was old enough to come home! He is truly my other half, and dog soulmate. He is incredibly intelligent, with a deep and understanding soul. He’s the most unique and special creature I have ever had to pleasure of being around.

I’m a 24 year old, disabled/chronically ill woman. When Groot was younger he would lay along me in bed every night, and most of the day. Especially during my extreme endometriosis symptoms, and the hip injection hormone treatment I was finally able to have after years.

Groot started out as our family dog, he is a member of the family. A family friend rescued a dog on the side of the road while on a cross country road trip! When she found out the shelters would just put her down, she kept the dog…and surprise the dog, Missy, was pregnant! My aunt helped with the birthing of the puppies…and that’s how he came into our lives!

My parents went to visit the puppies since they wanted one. Groot first went up to my dad, and after my dad picked him up Groot started licking his face and trying to eat his beard! After my dad put him down on the floor and told my mom he liked this one…Groot went over to my mom. She was sitting on the floor, and Groot climbed up on her lap, laid on her leg and went to sleep. He chose us! We named him Groot because he was just always in the background doing his own thing, dragging water bowls around as a puppy while the other ones went wild playing!

Once Groot came home, he bonded with me the most, hiding behind me from my siblings, and laying with me for comfort. Our first night with him, we weren’t sure if he even knew what stairs were since he didn’t have them where he was born. Well low and behold that night he goes BOLTING up the stairs! He couldn’t get back down, but he’s always been a powerhouse!

Over the years Groot and I got closer, and he has become my baby. He also completely adores my fiancée, he is also her baby! He is the sweetest, deepest soul I have ever met.

At the end of August he started getting sick..well kinda. His only symptom was swollen Lymph Nodes on his neck. We called the vet, they told us to monitor it and wait a few days, it could just be a virus. So we did, the nodes changed shape and size, but didn’t go away. So we called again, got an appointment, went in, and they suspected an infection, possibly an abscess. He was given antibiotics and told to monitor. The lymph nodes went down, but again not away.

We called back, and they referred us to the specialized hospital. It was a long day, Groot got sedated, biopsies, scans, bloodwork etc. he was out on Prednisone for the time being as well as a precaution. A few days later we got the call. They found cancer cells in all the sampled lymph nodes.

We were of course devastated, but Groot is in group A for best remission odds! He didn’t have sick symptoms when diagnosed, as well as it being Type B cells instead of Type T cells. We consulted the oncologist, went over options etc. and decided on the strongest treatment. Groot is young, otherwise healthy, and has great odds for a long remission!

After his first Chemotherapy dose he went into full remission! He still needs his full treatment course, but this is such a positive start! He is still in remission, and still responding so positively to the chemo! It’s a little adventure for him, he doesn’t even know anything is wrong, as it should be!

When we were informed of his diagnosis, the woman who called told us about her dog. He was diagnosed at age five, with large cell lymphoma, b-cells. He did the strongest treatment and now he is 2 years out from his chemotherapy, and completely cancer free! Since she works there she has easier access and pricing for scans, so she does them every 3 months, full body. Not a single cancer cell! She said he did lose his hair though! With the updated chemotherapy for animals the odds are so much better, they’ve come a long way! The statistics are just so bad because…it’s expensive.

They do not make it easy, it is heart wrenching. I’ve been in a position before where we’ve had to give up an animal since we couldn’t afford the hospital bill and care. I feel for everyone who has gone through this and not been able to afford chemo. I completely understand and it is entirely different not being able to afford it, vs just not wanting to spend the money!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aside from the stress, and emotional ups and downs experiencing this with Groot, I am financially devastated. You cannot insure a pet with a pre-condition, much like how insurance companies don’t like covering humans with pre-existing conditions. No insurance will accept an already diagnosed pet unless the pet is CURED without treatments for 180 days. Then that also falls into what their definition of cured means.

I have been emptying my life savings (saved everything from first my job, then unemployment, and the stimulus checks), I am unable to work due to Covid with my ITP (blood disorder), as well as Endometriosis, fibromyalgia, and suspected degenerative arthritis (my mom has it, it runs in our family, and I have the symptoms of it). I have also been selling my personal belongings, and doing discounted art commissions. I don’t even get to go out often, and whenever I do it’s in a N95 mask with limited crowds!

We have been applying to all the foundations that help with vet bills, but they are OVERWHELMED, have strict requirements, limited donation amounts, and extremely long waitlists. We’ve still been applying, but I’m not relying on them getting back to us…

My mom, who is also disabled, got a $1700 loan to help! It went straight to the vet, my fiancée took from her savings as well. We are both applying for and looking into loans and vet bill credit cards. This is just so hard, he had a nearly $5000 overnight hospital stay (it ended up being due to chemotherapy and steroid reactions, he’s finished the steroids now, and they’re dialing back the chemo type that caused it).

After that hospital bill I am wiped out and terrified. All the money I had earned, fundraised, was given by friends and family, it all ended up going to that hospital bill. Now I still need to pay the rest of his chemo! I need at least another $5,000 which I know is a lot! But this is a life, and this is a once in a lifetime chance where I can BUY MORE TIME with him! He isn’t suffering, no pains, and aside from the hospital stay due to raised liver enzymes he hasn’t had any chemo symptoms either!

I am so incredibly proud of him, and how brave and strong he is!

Any thoughts, well wishes, prayers, shared, donations, purchases, commissions and everything else are so incredibly appreciated! I truly don’t want to ask for money, for help, I wish I could just do this all on my own. We know in hindsight now about insurance, this is a learning experience for sure, but that doesn’t mean I’m just going to give up on Groot! He is here now and thriving and I want to give him the best life that he deserves! Thank you for reading❤️

Commissions are open, all types, can find me on other socials under BunTsuki as well! Any help means the world to me, and I swear when I’m better off I will pay it forward!

[maryellencarter]

yo tunglr how goest it

so! things keep Happening. i am like "i should make a post" and then things happen and i would need a whole additional post

so uh. where to start. i was in minnesota. i did not like minnesota. the social services are pretty damn solid but i did not know anybody except john and it was looking like a three year wait to get into housing, and i had to park a mile and a half away from the shelter because clearly letting homeless people park their cars next to the homeless shelter encourages them to remain homeless or something :P

and i have been trying for ten years to get back to the east coast, to the only place where i know more than one person in meatspace in the entire world. and then my tax refund came out to be Enough that i could afford to go to there. so i was like fuck it i will go to there

(can i afford to exist on the east coast? probably not. but i can't afford to exist anywhere that allows trans people. may as well be not affording to exist in a place where i have some sort of a network.)

so first i went to leia's and got a bunch of my stuff. mainly electronics and knitting. and then i came to here. i had arranged with a friend to use her address to receive mail and do laundry and shower and all those fun things you cannot do in a car. also i acquired some car-camping gadgets that plug into my car's cigarette lighter, such as an electric blanket.

(i even found out that my car has a 15amp cigarette lighter circuit like a semi truck, instead of a 10amp circuit like most passenger cars, so i can use a trucker's cookbox to heat up food! very exciting. still don't have an electric kettle but i saw a hopeful looking one at a truckstop, i'm just trying to pinch my pennies.)

anyway SO! got to friend's house. things went well for 2 nights. i successfully tested riding the metro and did not get the motion sickness. this was excellent news as i had to quit my last job in this area due to inability to arrive on time as i kept having to hop off metro and let my tummy settle

then friend's husband decided actually the plan that we thought had been cleared with him was Not okay, because he had managed to hear a totally different plan that only existed inside his head. (he does this. he has not managed to grasp that friend is against the palestinian genocide. they are both jewish so this is. a topic of regular conversation let us say)

so. i have been put up in a hotel for a week. very cozy. i just figured out how to use the coffee maker to make hot water for instant mashed potatoes. the week is running out but i have been looking into options.

so yesterday of course my phone had to go and fucking brick itself. (i think it was yesterday. time has been. somewhat. look i don't have a phone okay i can't exactly look at the date every five seconds as normal)

phone repair place gave me a free diagnosis, which was, the battery swoll up just enough to pop the back slightly open (it is not a phone that is supposed to open) and let water in and now the motherboard is ruined. it cannot be fixed

thank fuck i had picked up my electronics at leia's, thus i was able to communicate via ipad and laptop that this Had Happened. navigation is being *really goddamn hard* because i have to memorize directions from my wifi-only ipad before going out, and then somehow correlate them with very bad interstate signage (the only way i survived getting back from the phone repair place is that i'd been to an aldi in the same shopping center while my phone still worked)

i mean i could take transit but have you ever tried to take transit without a phone when transit maps are digital only

any fucking way. so then i went to the department of food stamps and all that stuff, to ask about assistance. the department told me i would have to be a resident in the county for nine months before i could even get into a shelter. also i got shuffled between several desks that were supposed to help me applicate for food stamps and medicaid before my name just... fell off the big monitor that showed all the people waiting and where they should go.

so my friend mara who is well connected in the local activism community began making Noises and we emailed a bunch of people. there is a place (nondenominational even! in minnesota you had your choice of the catholics, the "union gospel mission", or the sally army) that does free hot meals and helping applicate for shit and sometimes has charities come to give away free phones and so forth. sounds very much like the big central shelter and help center i was at in minnesota, except crucially not catholic.

(the catholics are better to deal with than the folks who require you to attend services in order to receive help. but they're still very... catholic about it.)

anyway that place says i can park there and not get towed, which is my largest concern. i have not actually gone to there yet because i did not feel like driving that far from my hotel with no gmaps until i have to. but it sounds extremely promising. i have some other emails to follow up on too but today i went and got one of my roughly-annual migraines so i was flat on my back in a dark room all day.

(at least the migraine had the decency to hit while i have a room and a bed and darkness all available. very polite of it. this has not been the case any time in the past six months and it has been a worry)

anyway i can't friggin get my lifeline provider (aka free government phone service for teh poors) to log me in on their website to look for a new phone without them being able to text my old phone, even though they offer me email verification and then just don't load the next page, so there is a solid nonzero chance i may lose this phone number. my contacts *should* be backed up to my gmail if i can get another android phone though.

so. uh. let's see. a new smartphone and service would run me close to $200 minimum. (i've been checking on a cheap service i had before becoming eligible for lifeline, which i was happy with. their very cheapest smartphone is like $114 on sale and their cheapest from a brand i've ever heard of, which i would strongly prefer, is a motorola running about $140 on sale. it's giant and clunky with a badly placed fingerprint reader but "able to get cellular service and run google maps therefrom" is my main priority right now.)

i have about $200 of my tax refund left in the bank. also i still need to buy gas. and some more food soon, i'm about down to canned chili (very edible cold in tortillas) and instant mashed potatoes (can make with cold water but they are significantly less delicious that way). and probably some other things i'm forgetting, and i haven't even started looking into the emissions test or my maryland ID and license plates. which i also wanted to budget about $200 for in case i have to pay excise tax for moving states like i did in minnesota (i don't know if i was supposed to or if the dmv fucked up). i forgot to ask if the one place does gas cards but i need to.

anyway i have to be out of my hotel room saturday morning so i am planning to spend tomorrow packing my shit back up and hauling it mostly down to my car. also i need another bath at some point. too much has been happening

sleeping in a bed has been very nice though. hadn't done that since august. i can sleep in my car and it's mostly comfortable but i'm fat and my steering wheel does not respect that

anyway. um. until more things explode i guess that is my update? jesus murphy. it's holy week and you can friggin tell. really bringing my catholic out. tomorrow is good friday and i definitely expect something more to explode. hell, my micro sd card was making noises about being corrupted and i was going to transfer stuff off it onto a new one via my computer and i haven't even started that yet because i've been so frazzled. it better not die along with jesus tomorrow, it's got all my music on it

[violentviolette]

i think i have aspd or traits . but i dont wanna go to a psych and be like " btw here are my symptoms ive never told u about before , have fun ! ( insert the entire ASPD criteria here ) . sorry " because that makes me look bad & i appear the opposite ( passive , fearful , not aggressive ) , & dont want to appear as a threat and i most definitely dont want them to think im manipulating them when im not ( like for example when im just telling them my symptoms regarding other conditions ) . and i dont want to admit to committing crimes incase they report me or i have to go through a security clearance for job reasons and they go thru my stuff . anyways as far as anyones concerned i seem nice but weird but not the type of person to have those kinds of symptoms , and i want it to keep my Good Girl(tm) image . but also . i dont want to start having legal issues , become dependent on substances , pursue any illegal occupation , etc since it would suck to get caught and im only 21 so i keep trying my best to avoid it everytime i almost continue with it , but i need help bad lol . any idea of what i should or can do ? anything helps

okay real talk but literally do exactly the opposite of everything ur doing and also get out of ur own head and stop overanalyzing every thought u have to find justifications for not doing the very simple basic first step towards what u know is the right thing to do but just dont want to because being vulnerable feels yucky and ur scared

i say this with genuine compassion and no judgement because i *absolutely* did and still sometimes do the same thing but unfortunately the only way to get urself out of that cycle is to get over urself and touch grass (encouragingly) so that u just Do The Thing u know u need to do

being open and honest with a therapist about ur thoughts and feelings is the only way to get any actual positive growth or help out of it. u cant fix what u dont talk about and keeping it all to urself will only drive u more and more insane. staying cooped up inside ur own mind without telling other ppl what ur thinking out loud creates a feedback loop of crazy. u gotta hear urself talk to another person sometimes to actually really *hear* urself, u know? ur brain is where the crazy is and u cant stay there alone and expect it to work out and get better. u have to talk it out and be confronted and challenged with other viewpoints to realize where urs are disordered if u look for reasons not to do something u will absolutely find them, and while i could offer rebuttels to a lot of ur concerns, things like how ur medical records and psych details are not that detailed. u doing illegal behavior like stealing or doing drugs is not something that gets listed on those and falls under patient confidentiality. the only thing that gets documented is the official diagnoses name which most therapists are going to be very reluctant to hardline diagnose someone with aspd (and even then it only gets logged with that practice and submitted to ur insurance only if ur seeking care like meds or hospital stays or get incarcerated. otherwise, if u dont tell someone "i saw dr.x at yclinic from 2019-2022, then they have no way of knowing or finding out what that dr wrote on their internal records/notes. there is no centralized database of "medical history" outside of ur insurance company and specific practices internal networks) individual symptoms like "illegal activity" do not get listed and unless ur planning on enrolling in the military or working for the feds no job is looking more deeply than that into ur history unless u personally volunteer it. what comes up when specific companies do background checks with a medical history is ur insurance records. ur insurance only knows what gets submitted to them specifically, if ur therapist doesnt file paperwork with ur insurance to list aspd as a diagnosis they are looking for ur insurance to pay them to treat u for specifically (instead of more generalized things like "depression" "anxiety" or just "mental health care" ect, which they have to get ur permission to do) then there's no paper trail of what u two talk about in that office or how ur "good girl" image is legitimately worthless garbage and will grant u absolutely nothing in life and clinging to it in the false hope that other ppls perceptions of u will change who u actually are and make u happy is only gonna lead u to looking at ur shitty unhappy life in 5 years and being filled with nothing but regret and anger and wanting to kill urself or that while u cant know or control how ur therapist sees u or reacts to the things u share with them, u can control who they are. if u fuck up with this therapist or it takes a turn u dont like or they start treating u badly, u can very much just get another one. u can request a different person at the same clinic for any reaosn or u could switch clinics entirely. most insurance in the us is taken by more than 1 provider in an area and there are almost always multiple practices that take the local insurance. and even then, if u wanna drive 45mins to see a therapist a town over cause u burned a bridge with this one u can do that. ur not beholden to a single person, u can get dozens and dozens of opinions. ive had over 15 different therapists in my life. if u fuck up with one u can always get another

but all those rebuttals dont really matter because if u want to, i have no doubt u could find counter points to all those points. i know i could if i tried. so really it just comes down to the simple question of are u going to keep standing in ur own way or are u going to cut the bullshit and take it seriously and do the hard thing because u know its what u need to do? ur young still, uve got so much time, dont waste more of it waiting for the perfect solution or situation because it will never exist. do it now, do it messy, do it scared, fuck it up and get it wrong a bunch, and then try again and again until it works

[itsgivingfaggot]

Thinking about the time I went to this group therapy thing for a diagnosis I had gotten a couple months prior. But It started half a year before i got my name (& gender marker) legally changed. So I had to give the organization my deadname when signing up. This wasnt too much of a big deal, they used my actual name in therapy, my pronouns, didnt out me in the group or anything, things were fine.

Now after nearly completing the whole year of group therapy I overhead one of the women running it talking about a seperate group that sounded perfect for me, that they didn't seem to advertise in their flyers etc so I never had heard about it. So I decided to approach her after one of the last sessions and ask her about it. She seemed excited about me joining it but told me she would need to do a pre interview first. We set an appointment for maybe 2 weeks later.

Now, in the most vague terms, this was a group For Very Traumatized people. I show up to the sort of "interview" a little nervous, expecting questions abt my biography, effects of trauma I'm dealing with, how I'm coping with them, blabla. She basically opens up with "so I asked the other group members about a Man joining them, and when one of them expressed that she wouldn't be comfortable with it, I explained your situation to her!" With a big smile on her face. My "situation". She outed me to this random group of people I had never even met before. This group was not once meant to be a womens space. She simply should've given everyone the option to decide if they were comfortable with this. That's all. Not fucking outing me. For the woman who wasnt comfortable with me as a cis man? Sucks for her. But that doesnt mean this worker gets to potentially endanger me for that womans comfort. But of course she did.

So that's over. Can we finally get to the interview? Of course. However she opens up with "oh you know, I've just been super interested in how things were for you growing up. If you could tell me about that." I go "with the. Abuse?" She doesnt react. "....The autism?" "Oh, no no! The trans thing!"... I sit there a little confused. I give a short one or two sentence answer thinking we will move on to the actual topic of this group. But no. She keeps digging. What about your family? Did you have ~the surgery~ yet? How was school? What about your partners? What about your extended family? What about-

And i was unable to tell her to stop. I answered everything as vaguely as possible. But as a trans person you're always seen as fucking representative of every other trans person. You're not an individual you're either a walking advertisement for corruption or a fascinating oddity of a mystical group to disect and test and observe. If I had told her it's none of her business what's in my pants, it's not actually important to this group how my uncles reacted to me coming out? No I dont want to tell you in great detail the effects of testosterone on my body? Etc. Maybe she'd make a mental note of "trannies = rude and combative. Secretive. Dont want their ~allies~ to be educated about their experiences (why?!)" and I dont wanna be responsible for that in a setting where that person holds so much influence over someone's access to mental health care. So I mumbled my way through it.

In the end the "interview" for a fucking trauma group was 30 minutes of me being increasingly uncomfortable by being prodded over being trans, and roughly 5 minutes of her telling me about some rules in the group and asking a single question about how to best handle me when past trauma gets triggered. I ended up not joining anyways for mostly (!) unrelated reasons. But like. What the fuck was that. I dont understand how some cis people who are interested in trans experiences wont just like. Watch a fucking documentary. Read a book. Theres people who make it their lives mission to share their experiences. That Does Not Mean every random trans person you meet will wanna do the same.

Also again dont fucking out people without their consent. I cant believe we still have to say this oh my god

[granulesofsand]

False-Positive and Imitated DID

🗝️🏷️ invalidation/fake-claiming, mentions of trauma and RAMCOA. We will transcribe the tables in an edit if anyone asks

Do we all know that study with the six women? Where the researchers undiagnosed them via mass testing and then asked them all about their systems so they could find out the differences between ‘Imitated’ DID and ‘genuine’ DID.

Same study, different formats

I’ve always hated that study. That’s a popular opinion in my system. Because they took these people aside and had them talk only to turn around and tell them they didn’t count. Even if they were right — which I have my doubts — they pulled apart what these people said while they were describing their own internal experience to get ‘themes’ of false-positive DID.

They say this study is part of a larger project with 86 total participants — only 7 of which were qualified as ‘genuine DID’. They had a big sample of people with elevated levels of dissociation about identity alteration, and only 7 of them had DID.

They measures they used were fine, they did lead with vagueness of definitions and underdiagnosis of DID, but then they had nearly as many false-positives in this one sample as the total of DID diagnoses in the whole thing???

And it just gets ickier from there on. Their big themes were

Believing they had DID

Describing identity confusion and conflicting self-states as dissociative

Changing clinical presentation as they learn

Talking too much about their self-states

Don’t like being told they don’t have DID

And those were what they went with. Not ‘lack of apparent trauma’ or ‘lack of amnesia’, which would change the concept of traumagenic DID as we know it, not even ‘confusion of medical terms’ — all of which they listed as subpoints.

Theme One

The first one, ‘endorsement and identification with the diagnosis’: they looked at media like books and YouTube videos. Four had been told they had DID, the other two were diagnosed with mood disorders and found it while branching out their reading.

Most people in the age range (22-42) at the time of finish and publish (2020 and 2021) would turn to the internet about a diagnosis they identified with. They had a lack of recall for aggression and anything to do with strong negative emotions (almost like dissociative people), but often none for daily life. Sounds like P-DID or OSDD-1!

Theme Two

Which leads to the second theme, ‘using the notion of dissociative parts to justify identity confusion and conflicting ego-states’. Two of these people described actual insiders with autonomy and the ability to step into control. One was more along the lines of OSDD-1a or just DID, the other somewhere between that and Immersive Daydreaming. Another three leaned closer to non-complex Dissociative Disorders with other diagnoses, and one they didn’t quote anywhere I can find.

If Mary didn’t meet the criteria for DID, it wouldn’t be ‘imitated’ DID. It would be OSDD-1, which is basically the same thing but something is off. Same with Dominique; if she couldn’t qualify for DID, she should probably still be treated for disordered plurality — she literally struggles with named self-states, give her some IFS at least.

Theme Three

Theme three has two names. They imply different things. The section is titled ‘exploring personal experiences via the lens of dissociation’. The women read up on the disorder and expanded their vocabulary, sometimes misusing new words.

Victoria realizes she is some flavor of dissociative. Dominique doesn’t get identity alteration but aligns herselves with co-consciousness. Karina notes other self-states’ memories as different when they share with her. Mary has flashbacks — the researchers also have this insistence that alter communication be auditory, and that’s just not super common.

Theme Four

The fourth also has two names; the subtitle is ‘talking about DID attracts attention’. They decide all these headmates are metaphors, though the headmates disagree.

Mary’s alters talk to their husband and therapist. Karina’s friend describes her as plural and she has a vlog for her alters. Katie wanted to write about her plurality and gain recognition for her lived experience. They’re not ashamed as the researchers think they ought to be, so they shan’t be diagnosed.

Theme Five

This last one is ‘ruling out DID leads to disappointment and anger’. As if they didn’t interview these people about their supposedly DID systems. It goes back to the shame, and their reactions were not utter joy.

Katia says she would rather have a diagnosis, and that she would answer differently if asked a few years ago. Mary mentioned her younger selves felt neglected and disbelieved. Karina said they didn’t give her a differential diagnosis, then later sent them videos asking them to reconsider. Victoria was apparently happy enough, but she also wanted to know what was happening.

Discussion

Papers usually have a section interpreting their results and their inadequacies. They did not find themselves inadequate. Some of it was true, others made me pity their lack of understanding.

No intrusions of trauma material; atypical but not reason to refuse treatment. Somatoform symptoms don’t count as severe if they’re aggravated, I guess. Voices as primarily auditory came from a study claiming high levels of auditory hallucinations with DID.

They have a whole thing about switching — they did it during interviews and said so, but continued to use first person pronouns for actions prior to the switch. They said DID patients tend to be flightier with new people, then didn’t consider that their patients might be flighty — or inexperienced — in a different way.

Below the cut is a list of ‘red flags’ with our experience for each one. There are brief mentions of programming and RAMCOA.

There was only amnesia for emotional distress (wonder why). The women missed the word ‘flashback’ as also referring to positive memories of foreign origin. And then there’s this monstrosity:

I’m going to use our system as an example.

We were referred to our current therapist to confirm our CDD after returning from inpatient; we had experienced our first episode of co-consciousness during PHP. (Everymany knows you’re only valid if a stranger who may or may not believe in DID exists brings up your inner experience first)

The first time someone sincerely told us they thought we were plural, we brushed it off as forgetfulness and adolescence. Our current therapist let us know we did have blackouts, which qualified us for DID. We did the clinical evals before we approached our old therapist or our PHP therapist. (And they can only bring it up after they have you fill out packets and answer interviews)

We learned about DID because of the friend who noticed we had it. They were an alter is a DID system. Both of us learned about the diagnosis further from textbooks, studies, and internet sites. (In fact, you shouldn’t even know DID exists beyond maybe popular movies)

We didn’t start with jargon. We picked it up slowly, lots of PluralPedia, and only use it when it’s too difficult to describe ourselves; lack of language, too many words, therapist looks confused. But you’re telling me ‘parts’ is too technical?

We’re all over the board with this one. Before therapy, we would overshare and then shut down. I’ve had to work a lot on my self-image and realizing that having caused doesn’t mean I am harm. Others in my system have had a similar path; I made a mistake vs I am a mistake. And that’s also tied to trauma and re-traumatization, so systems or alters without that experience might not feel that shame or learn to cope with avoidance.

If somebody I didn’t recognize came up to me and told me I bit them, I would say that was not me. I did not bite them, I do not bite at all, and I would be perfectly fine with blaming that on an alter. Because it was. Some of us pretend to be one another or lie, but it’s not because we secretly don’t have DID.

What kind of evidence proves flashbacks? That sounds like they want a brain scan or to watch you relive trauma. We use a cane for possibly somatoform symptoms and have programming, but who knows what counts.

If they asked like that, I would’ve sat there quietly. Some littlies say there were ‘angels’ voices they heard externally when they were around, and we talk to each other with words most times. Again, they really want those auditory hallucinations.

Y’all, if your amnesia never or no longer affects non-negative events, this must mean no system. Our subsystems don’t always have amnesia for daily life, and we’ve gotten pretty good at sharing information and memories. We worked on that, but only because our system had amnesia there. You don’t need alter-to-alter amnesia at all for DID, let alone for neutral-to-positive stimuli. And here, too, evidence required.

We took the scenic route in explaining our symptoms and answering questions about them, weaving and losing trains of thought. The first person we went to (our PHP therapist) never asked at all, and we told him everything — only to be shot down as ‘not having trauma’ (like we’d admit to that for a fourteen hour stay).

We did not announce it with that guy, but we were Not Subtle. He triggered one of our gatekeepers with the trauma comment, and that guy stayed in front with maybe one other alter — neither of whom were the person who usually went.

Our goal has always been to make our system ours, and we don’t want to be anything else. We have a lot of skills that singlets never will, and we have relationships and other benefits that are important to us. We can read and listen to two separate pieces of media, hold conversations amongst ourselves, practice skills while a thousand other alters do the same. There are awesome things about plurality, and it’s okay to enjoy them. We also run a blog, in case you couldn’t tell.

I know we have DID. We know we have DID. It was extra scary when that PHP guy said we didn’t, and then it was disappointing when we had to leave our good therapist for a stranger. If a clinician we weren’t comfortable with tried it now, we would probably laugh and have a go at them. I don’t care if it really isn’t DID, but nobody is telling me we aren’t a system.

We hit damn near every ‘red flag’ they offered. Our system is classic, overt, even RAMCOA survivors like the examples m psych students get to understand ‘ah, this is Dissociative Identity Disorder’.

There is a range of systems that fit DID, even more that have CDDs, and even more who are plural. The diagnoses are supposed to help you, and if they aren’t, you don’t need to bother with them. Work on being authentic and free and safe and whatever else you might have set as a goal. You’re more than a code in a book.