#i don't remember taking medicine for it i think i was still too young for my parents to feel safe giving me anything other than

[dredshirtroberts]

fucking... ow.

[neoraso]

bf things with riize

shotaro:

is always your biggest cheerleader. listens to all your concerns and comforts you in the best way he can

loves meeting your friends and having you be close with his

is so excited to get to know you and learn everything he can about you - don't mind him he's just collecting data so he can love you even more ;>

is very much in it for the long haul with you- like he wouldn't be with you if he couldn't really see a future with you. he's pretty young and wouldn't really want to settle down until the future but he's planning on being with you as long as he can-often tells you this

wants to be the most positive, safe and uplifting person in your life. expect a lot of big hugs with back rubs, high fives where he intertwines your fingers ♡

eunseok:

he's pretty masculine but also very nonchalant about it. your man. takes care of things for you wordlessly, tucks you in, carries your bags etc.

pretends to be cocky/annoyed by your clinginess but literally becomes a "where's my hug at?" guy when he walks in the door. like if u don't at least give him a kiss hello he's like wth,,, is everything ok with my baby

will pretty much go along with whatever you want.. like if you want to watch a disney movie he'll be like i'm completely indifferent on what we watch but as long as it makes u happy

peels fruit for you and feeds it to you because he likes watching you eat.

so attentive. makes sure you're taking your medicine/vitamins, that you're sleeping well and making it to all your appointments, fulfilling all your responsibilities.

sungchan:

prefers to stay at your house over everything,, u gave him a key and he abuses the privilege- like you come home from work/school and he's just in ur bed .. sometimes even asleep and ur like ok sure??

idk how to explain ,, he's like that typical older guy like brother's best friend vibes just always playful, flirty, teasing but all out of love.

ur just his which he reminds you of daily .. "how's my baby," "my favorite girl doing ok?" "you know you're my angel right?"

loves to attack you with love. pushes you on the bed so he can lay all his weight on you (WILL fall asleep like this if you're not careful), tugs on your hair to get you to look at him , pokes or tickles you if he thinks you're not paying enough attention to him

in that vein, very protective of you. if someone is bothering you or just making life difficult he is ready and willing to throw hands. you can tell bc his jaw clenches and his nose flares just a bit until ur like,,sungchan it's really fine just annoying,,, and he's like mmhm sure (still rubs your arm and back to calm himself down..)

wonbin:

holds your hand as long as he can wherever yall go. like if he's saying goodbye :< waits until the door is about to smash his hand to let go of yours

once you get to the stage where he trusts you to share his worries with ..,,, u are locked in like u are 4lifers

teases his friends a lot but is literally putty in your hands like he will do anything for you and would never want you to question his affection for you

best listener . full eye contact (even if it makes you blush) usually playing with your fingers too. brings up things you've mentioned before and ur like,, how do you even remember this I don't even remember this

lowk needs reassurance and his heart gets so warm when you sincerely tell him how you feel and how much you love and appreciate him

seunghan:

finds anything remotely heart-shaped and points it out to you or texts you a picture.

you are literally his baby.,,, even if you're older, you are his baby. adores you, dotes on you, spoils you, feeds you, etc.

so affirming and validating whenever you rant to him. pets your hair and pouts "really baby? that sounds so frustrating but you're doing so well handling it. i'm here if you need me to fight someone :>" (has never fought anyone in his life)

hypeman hypeman hypeman. encourages you in everything you do and will show his support in forms of kisses, sweet words and texts

unlike sungchan he wont be so ,,... intrusive when he can't see you often but he does video call you as much as he can because he NEEDS to check on his lovely lover sweetie pie angel

sohee:

thinks all your quirks are so endearing and makes him fall even deeper for you

wants to learn your native language so bad so he can be closer to you and meet you halfway in communication

sooooo appreciates how you listen to him and his day, his worries, his dreams. wants to be there for you just as much ♡

i think he'd like to leave you little gifts even if it's like a post it note with a candy and a little encouraging message, or something bigger like shoes or a jacket or jewelry you've been eyeing

though he has so much energy, he also loves recharging at home with you, just snuggling and sharing little kisses and snacks.

anton:

appreciates how you never push him out of his comfort zone, grabs your hand as a silent ask for support.

loves to have fun with you ,, going out with you, watching and making silly tiktoks even just laying around and chilling with you makes him so happiiii

will hug you or backhug you and for some reason gets shy and shocked when you kiss him bc he's so cute

yall definitely started as besties ,, so you're already pretty close as a couple except now you get to kiss and stuff which he thinks is pretty great.

has 282922892 pics of you in his phone, printed , polaroids. he’s too shy to hang them up but he keeps one in his wallet and in his phone case to feel like you’re with him all the time :>

[ask-the-pioneer]

"I sure do! Watch this..."

"I can make explosive spears and throwables, just like my mom did. I can also propel myself in the air by whipping my tail very fast, which sets off the same flammable compound in my tail surface for an explosive boost. Very handy for movement, but also very loud… not great if you're trying to be stealthy. And yeah, my sibling could do that too, but he was always more interested in doing other things. An energetic but very scatterbrained kid that he was."

[She takes aim and throws the spear somewhere far away. It ignites and explodes with a loud dull bang that shakes the ground slightly]

"I can't do that too often, though. Maybe a handful of times in quick succession before my muscles tense up and burn as if scorched by flames. One time it got so bad that I lost consciousness and couldn't move for a couple of minutes after waking up. That was scary, and hurt like hell... since then I've been more careful. That said, I wonder if there are more slugcats with similar abilities to mine out there? I have not met that many scugs in my life to begin with, if I'm honest..."

"Of course I remember my family, how could I not! My sibling's name is… hmmm, right, let me explain this first. Slugcats have very good sense of smell. Usually, we know one another by our unique scents. They are incredibly complex, but can be written down as series of letters, if you map those symbols to the corresponding scent proteins and other chemical compounds. For example, my scent name would be:"

"Addmitely, this notation method is very over-engineered – a slugcat just knows you are you if they smell you. From what I learned, scugs don't really use a coherent writing system.. of any kind. I think the colonies may use pictograms? I uh, I've never been a part of a colony, so I'm missing a lot of info here. Still, what I wrote on the wall – I have used an Ancient script, which I roughly mapped to key compounds that make a scent. As you can see, it's incredibly long, it can also change over time, parts of it can be masked with non-organic aromas to hide your identity, so on and so forth. To simplify even further, these long strings of letters can be shortened to just the last three or two characters, and this is what scugs may choose to use to refer to one another. Here, my scent name is MGV."

"Then, there are names that resemble the form that the Ancients would use. It's considered more refined, and more common in big colonies where people adopt their preferable roles. Those names are viewed as a kind of «gift», because you receive it from your community. It's a symbol of how they see you, what you mean to them. Of course, my closest family was never a part of a colony… but my mom would still give me and my sibling those special names. I was named «Blue», which is the color of the sky above when it's not raining, and the color of clear water. My brother's name is «Bryn» after a very fragrant medicinal plant that relaxes your muscles when consumed. I always found it funny, as my brother was often the one getting in trouble and giving our mom heartaches."

[She pauses for a moment, thinking intensively]

"Hmm, I never thought of asking my mother about her name. I wonder if she had one? To me and it was always just «mom»…"

"My other parent? I never knew him. Must have left just before or right after my mom had me, because there is literally nothing I remember of him… or them… whoever they were."

[She takes some pearls out from her bag, and inspects them one by one just to keep her hands busy]

"Mom would never talk about him, as if he never existed. And I never questioned her, I was too young to understand and simply accepted everything at face value. It was just the way things were. Would I want to meet my other parent? Maybe, but I doubt it'd make a difference. What would I even say to them? «Thanks for abandoning mom and leaving her to fend for herself»? "

"I don't know. Maybe I'm too harsh. Maybe he was a hero who sacrificed themself to save my mother. That could explain why he was never seen or heard of again. But… I have no way of knowing for sure. It's the life I won't be getting back anyway."

// In the second drawing, I've used logographs from @ikayblythe's Standard Hegemonic Dialect

[evilminji]

You know what's my JAM?

Extremes being treated as the Serious Dangers they ARE, even when they aren't "oooh its a spooky Grey morality and BADness!" Extreme.

Like? No, people. ALL of them are bad. They are ALL face melting dangerous. The void may crush your soul, but look upon the Face Of GOD? Not gonna be having a fun time! Doesn't MATTER if he's a cool dude! Face melting!

We are creatures of BALANCE. Tiny, fragile, little motes of dust. That can only exsist in the careful, blended, dances of territories and powers that be. We squishy.

Ghosts? Less squishy.

Poor impulse control, too. Especially ones with Fenton genetics. ABSOLUTELY ones with Fenton genetics and a trauma based aversion to therapy. That one? Pretty hardy. Made pretty tough, what with being Fates third favorite chew toy. But? Still gets the Sads, you know? The slightly longer then just seasonal depression.

Would medicine and some therapy help? Oh like a dream!

If medicine WORKED on his Ectoplasmicly contaminated ass. And he TRUSTED therapists.

But... surely, Danny thinks, as he sits grossly in his Depression sweatpants and eats suspect pizza on the floor of his moldering shoebox of an apartment, there must be SOME way to address his Depression? He should... he should DO something about it. Take a break maybe. Look up some ghost doctors or something.

.....

Oooooooooor..... >.>

He could break out that OMENIOUS af, bound in suspect leather, Big Book Of Forbidden Knowledge(TM) that he got from Pariah's.... what, fourth? Fifth? Library? Fuck that Lair is huge. He's STILL cleaning it out and it's been over half a decade. He swears it spawns more floors just to mock him. Bastard. Don't know HOW a building can be a Bastard, but it sure found A WAY.

Anyway!

Book it is! *horrifying Eldritch light as he opens it* huh. Neat. Comes with its own visual effects. *another bite of suspect pizza* Funky.

And so! Danny, the depressed King Of The Zone... fucks of to go cheer himself up in the Fields Of Bliss(TM), an area of Absolute Bliss. Which! Sounds GREAT in theory, now don't it? Lovely even.

Remember that little comment about extremes?

You can ENTER those fields. But no one leaves. No one CAN. The deeper you go? The more doomed you become. Less will to do anything at all. Eat, talk, move. So much as think. Like ALL extreme "Goods", it sounds lovely, but the reality is no gentle little thing.

It's a glue trap.

But how could Danny have known? Honestly, who would have TAUGHT him? Textbooks can only go so far, after all. And placing blame will not rescue the young monarch.

I imagine it's one of his helpers that pieces together what's happened. Come for further clarification on WHERE exactly he wants certain statues moved. Only? Your Majesty? Your Majesty...? Where ever could he BE? Oh? He's left out some of his books. Well, I'll just assist by putting them away for-.....

Oh.

OH ANCIENTS, NO.

But! What can the poor man DO? Ghosts are Beings of Will, Emotion, and Obsession. Were it some sort of Holy Blade or Sentient Tree, you know, something INDIVIDUAL with a will they could FIGHT? Oh no problem. But an area of effect? Especially an EMOTIONAL area of effect!? Ooooooh, this is bad. The Zone can't AFFORD to lose ANOTHER King!

We JUST GOT THIS ONE!!!

Wait. He's heard that there's an organization for this! That loudly cursing fellow who got violently thrown back into the Zone. "Ruined his fun" and all that! Perfect! He'll just hire THEM!

Smashcut? To a nice, peaceful, everybody's screaming Justice League Meeting. John's cursing life, extremely hungover. Zatana still has three cracked ribs. Wonder Woman is enjoying the new sword she... liberated... mid battle. Truely stunning craftsmanship. When?

Knock Knock!

Heads swivel. There... is a glowing green... accountant? Dandy? Dandy accountant. With an equally radioactive day glow green Actual Pirate's Chest Of Treasures, floating next to him. In the void of space; Just beyond the glass. What, the, fuuuuuu-

He seems to be under the impression they are some sort of Heroic mercenaries. And has come to request the retrieve-

"NNNNNOPE! Pariah can SHOVE it!" Snarls a suddenly very awake John Constantine, sitting up straight for the first time in hours. The rest of Dark grimly nod in agreement. Let the fucker rot. It's a kinder fate then he deserves.

No, no, NO! King PHANTOM! Pariah's SUCCESSOR by right of combat! They are not, and were never, allied in any way!

Well, all right then. Road trip to save a young idiot then.

@the-witchhunter @hdgnj @hypewinter @lolottes @mutable-manifestation @nerdpoe

[izvmimi]

cw: part of mafia au. serious injury mention and hospital talk.

you should have known better to get involved.

now you sit, twiddling your thumbs, in a stranger's room, exasperated with the fact that you've had to tell nurse after tech after physician that you do not in fact know the man who's asleep in the hospital bed in the room with you, that all you are is a (now-reluctant) Good Samaritan who's gotten in over their head.

but what do you do when a young man falls directly into your arms, nearly taking you down with him?

you sigh, and bring one of your knees to your chest. you should have left as soon as the ambulance arrived, but somehow an unnecessary sense of responsibility compelled you to jump into the back of the ambulance with him, and that same morbid curiosity has kept you here. now that hours have passed, it would feel pointless to leave. perhaps that's sunk cost fallacy, you think, but you watch the young man slumber and sigh. perhaps you'll see this through.

you stare at the clock, then glance back at him, wondering how long it will be until he wakes, and how you'll introduce yourself. does he remember that he passed out in your arms? should you call him by his name, the one you just learned today from the worn id stuffed in the bloody wallet in the pocket of his jacket? what exactly is the etiquette when someone wakes up from surgery and is not surrounded by loved ones but an overly involved passerby?

you're strangers and yet by chance, now you're in the most intimate of spaces. you sigh, and hope someone can rescue from this situation, but alas his phone has not yet rung. it's been hours.

you check your own phone. about an hour ago you sent a message through Instagram to the man who last texted, thankful that izuku is the type of person who records people by their first and last name. 'Bakugou Katsuki' has not yet answered. you wonder if he even is a good person to message, given that he didn't seem all that nice in the message - 'where the fuck are you at?!' you've also messaged another man named 'Shoto Todoroki' with no profile picture (hopefully the right one), and wished you had a way to contact 'Mom <3'.

your own mother would think you were silly for staying this long, but part of you thinks that you would hate to be alone in a situation like this.

he'd stumbled into that train station, needing help but unable to form the words. you were the first person to notice the blood soaking through his clothes. you don't know anything about medicine but you moved quickly, and now you're here.

perhaps you should be concerned about why exactly a person would be walking around with stab wounds to the belly, but the young man is soft-featured, appearing far too gentle, particularly in sleep, to hurt anyone. you remind yourself that looks can be deceiving. perhaps he is insane, after all he seemed to smile right before he passed out.

the image of his smile lingers on your brain. you check your phone again. no reply.

and then you hear him shift.

suddenly you feel so vulnerable, your face drowning in heat. why are you here? he's wrapped up in blankets but moves a little too exuberantly, like he didn't just come out of anesthesia, and you open your mouth to tell him to slow down but nothing comes out. he looks around, a weary squint as he scans the room, and then his eyes settle on you.

they widen, a bright, brilliant green.

"fuck."

his voice is both everything and nothing like you expect. this also is committed to memory, just like his smile, just like his big green eyes.

you blink a few times in confusion, but you don't say anything. he continues to look at you, really take you in along with the surroundings, as he moves his limbs, fingers then wrists then arms and shoulders, as though in routine. you suspect this isn't the first time he's been knocked unconscious.

he's still looking at you, and you're still trying to come up with something to say, your voice choking in your throat.

"i-, i can explain," you start, but he's not listening.

"no fucking way these assholes killed me," he whispers under his breath.

you frown, but he's now talking a mile a minute, looking at his hands, then at you, then back at his hands.

"i can't fucking believe this!"

his head is in his hands now, and you're suddenly experiencing a quiet meltdown as he mutters to himself, something about how his mom will be pissed, how his friends will be pissed, how he cannot believe he let himself slip. this goes on for a few more minutes, and you observe, unsure of what to do before you decide to interrupt.

you stand, and approach.

"um... you're not dead."

your hand settles on his shoulder and he tenses, and you quickly withdraw your hand. what are you doing? you think.

"you're not dead! i'm sorry, i know this must be really strange and actually i think i'll leave now," you trail off, embarrassed.

"wait no, don't go." he replies quickly. you stop in your tracks, and turn back to look at him, and really see him again - cleaned up and confused, bandages wrapped around his broad torso and for a moment you realize he's also cute, or rather boyishly handsome, and then you feel like a creep.

he takes your arm by the wrist first, and when you look terrified, he lets go, quickly, whispering a quick sorry.

"it's just that you looked like an angel."

your eyes widen.

"god, i should stop talking, shouldn't i?" he says, red flushing over a spray of freckles on both cheeks, yet another thing you're noticing for the first time. both of you are warm and uncomfortable - his phone rings finally, and you grab it and toss it gently in his direction before gathering all your things and stepping out.

your heart beats so fast you think it might burst, and you press your hands to your warmed cheeks.

an angel. is that what you stayed to hear?

you can hear someone yelling on the phone at him but try not to eavesdrop. you've trespassed enough.

but you think again about how you were this stranger's guardian angel for the rest of the night.

[foxgirlintestines]

The one piece of advice I can really give to younger trans girls is that you really need to embrace the parts about you that you actually liked pre-transition. There is often that crushing weight of gloom and self loathing that comes with severe dysphoria that tells you that everything about you is wrong, but that can just your mind being clouded with negative emotions, and it becomes harder to see the positives. In the end, though, you probably aren't going to become a perfect barbie doll, and that's ok, but striving to become something like that can drive you crazy.

When I first transitioned, I just wanted to be a girl, no ambiguity, just look like a stereotype. It was never really possible, I'm almost 6 and a half feet tall, and the women in my family are not thin, when I got on estrogen I gained weight fast, and it did not go to all the right places. I wallowed in bed a lot, and I just kind of kept getting worse. Oddly enough, it was getting into fetish content where less standard body types were lusted after more than regular anime proportion waifus where I started to see some of the more positive aspects of being amab. I was tall, strong, could be threatening and having a big squishy gut was actually quite attractive. I started to remember things about me when I was younger that I kind of pushed out of my mind. I was the "guy" who would run the mile in PE then casually walk along-side my friends and keep them company so that they didn't get teased, and one time I picked up my overweight friend and just carried her the last bit of the way because she was exhausted and the teacher couldn't really do anything about it because even as a young teenager I towered over him. In theater when there were heavy props to move I just lifted them up and tossed them around when we didn't have grip present. When we were out drinking in college, I was the "safety" who intimidated people so they would not try and take advantage of the drunk girls. I am big, and even if is not very feminine, I like that about me.

I changed my transition goals, I started working out again, not just cardio exercises to lose weight, but weightlifting, squats while holing a barbell, throwing around a medicine ball, and doing laps around my backyard while holding a ~150lb dead tree I ripped out of the ground while doing yardwork on my shoulder. I got healthier, I got happier, and much to my new endocrinologist's chagrin I've been gaining more weight, though now it's muscle. There are still plenty of things that I changed to be feminine, I wear my hair long, I wear girly clothes, often cute shirts with open tops that show off my large arms shoulders and cleavage, and mini-skirts. I put on make-up, lots of bold goth get-ups with heavy eyeliner black lipstick and glittery deep grey eyeshadow. Long painted nails, jewelry, hell sometimes a sparkly rhinestone tiara when I really want to ham it up, cute open toe heels when not wearing my big stompy boots, and of course the biggest one (pun intended) my massive boobs that I got the largest implants legal to be used in the US to make me busty as hell. I don't look like a barbie, and I no longer want to. I'm to the point that people often don't know whether to call me sir or ma'am, but the fact that people say sir or ma'am meekly like they are afraid of getting it wrong is way better gender confirmation than being called "lady."

I am happy now, well, at least happy with my body, there is plenty of shit in the world that still makes me depressed as hell. At least I no longer feel that dysphoria, and it makes those other things a bit more manageable. I think even if I did achieve my original transition goals, I would not be as happy with my body as I am now. You got to find that about yourself too, sometimes you will actually miss things about who you used to be, even if those times were overall worse.

As a silly little comparison, these two pictures of my fursona (which reflect my ideal body type) were made before and after I accepted the things about my body that I didn't want to change.

[arataki-neato]

Resident Vidyadhara lore nerd here, I'm typing this all out at 3 in the god damn morning so I might regret this but I wanted to give my take on something I feel like a lot of people might have misunderstood or misinterpreted:

Hatching rebirth is not a cosmetic thing, it's not simply amnesia, it's not a way for Vidyadhara to escape taking accountability for what they did in their past lives, and Dan Heng is not in denial for believing himself to be his own person, distinct from Dan Feng.

There's this document in the alchemy commission you find as part of a quest with a compendium of medicines, and one of those is a treatment that, when administered to young Vidyadhara, allows them to begin to recall their past lives. This is most likely how it's done for High Elders.

However, there's the added stipulation that administering this to someone else without their consent is a punishable offense.

The Vidyadhara have a way of negating the memory loss caused by hatching rebirth, but they don't want it. The process of hatching rebirth and the strict separation between past lives is not only culturally sacred to them, it's an important part of their life cycle. The fact that it's done to High Elders is pretty much a perversion, but it's apparently considered important for the survival of the species.

The reason why is that there's just simply an upper limit to how long someone can comfortably live a single life--Xianzhou natives become Mara struck after about 1000 years, and while there's no real knowledge of what causes it, the general consensus is that their memories accumulate and become too much for them. Hatching rebirth protects them from this, it's an opportunity to rest and renew, to heal from old scars and past traumas, and most importantly, a chance for a fresh start.

Believing themself to be a different person than they were in their past lives is not an attitude unique to Dan Heng, it's consistent with pretty much every Vidyadhara npc you can talk to.

(Chunfen, the reincarnation of a famous Vidyadhara opera singer named Ling Jie, uses Ling Jie's notes as a guide on how to live an exciting life, but still talks about her as if she were someone else who left them for her and not as if they were something she herself had written)

(Jinyu, the Vidyadhara woman whose rebirth cycle is so accelerated she basically becomes a new person every month, has had many short-lived yet passionate love affairs, but she never remembers them and never has any interest in trying to rekindle the relationship)

There's the Vidyadhara Cong, who by chance or fate has ended up falling in love with the same long-life Xianzhou woman in every one of his past reincarnations, which she found romantic at first, but she has grown old and tired and has had to try to let him down gently because she can't force herself to try to fall in love with him again.

There are Vidyadhara who are reluctant to let go of their memories and try to bring keepsakes with them, but the unfortunate fact of the matter is that most of the time, their future self does not attach the same emotional significance to it that they do, and it only ends up being a source of grief and a reminder of what they lost.

When Vidyadhara hatch out of their eggs, they are a child with no memories. Despite not being a true death, it is functionally no different than the death of the old self and the birth of a new one (and Dan Heng sees it this way, too, he even refers to it as his "birth")

And I think that Dan Heng is perfectly justified in not wanting anything to do with Dan Feng or anything related to his past life. All he knows is that ever since he was a child, he has been punished and abused and hunted and despised for something that, from his perspective, he didn't even do.

It's not like what happened with Scaramouche, which I feel like a lot of people are probably comparing it too--If Dan Heng suddenly and with perfect clarity got back all of Dan Feng's memories, it would not make him Dan Feng. They still wouldn't be his memories, and they wouldn't supersede his current life--He would still just be Dan Heng, but with someone else's memories on top. He really is his own person, and he deserves to have his own life to live.

[sunflowervoltwentyeight]

Happy 28th! Here's my July 2023 fic rec, organized by word count, from longest to shortest. Enjoy!

I Found Love In You (And I Learned to Love Me Too) by CuckooTrooke / @larrydoinglaundry (166k)

After months of battling with his own demons, Louis goes back to get what he once left behind, but Harry's not sure if he showed up in time.

A journey of remorse, healing and love that's strong enough to break them down and build them back up again.

Sequel to 'love is a word, you gave it a name'.

Wild and Unruly by 100percentsassy, Gloria_Andrews / @100percentsassy, @gloriaandrews (123k)

Harry is a cowboy sitting on the biggest oil reservoir in Wyoming, and Louis is the paralegal assigned to pressure him into selling his land.

I Don't Wanna Face the Music by hereforh / @hereforh (95k)

Louis likes to think he's a pretty normal, typical lad. He likes spending nights at the pub with his mates, he loves football and is very close to his family. So when he moves to London for uni, he doesn’t think much will be different.

Until he makes these new friends who are nothing like his mates back home and change his life for the better - and this one boy who messes with his head from the get go and makes him question everything he has ever thought about himself.

(Take Me Home) Country Roads by Awriterwrites (86k)

“Sir, I can help you. Just let me — “ He tried moving closer but the eldest child blocked his way. He backed off, putting his hands out in a passive gesture. “I’m a physician. I can help,” he tried again.

The man shook his head vehemently, passing the cup back to his grandchild. “Tol’ ya. Don’t need ya.” All of the fire had gone out of his voice, leaving behind a frail, sick old man with barely any breath to talk.

“I have medicines...I could make you comfortable…” Louis’ voice was still small, but pleading.

“Mountain Mama cares for wha’s ailin’ me. Don’t need no fancy city doctors.”

Louis blinked at the man, still shaking from the coughing spell. Mountain — well, fuck. That backwoods, uneducated scam artist…

“Of course he is,” Louis said curtly. ***** OR a Northern Exposure AU featuring Louis as the big city doctor, Harry as a natural healer, Niall as a secretive barkeep, Liam and Zayn head over heels for each other but they don't know it and a lot of hurt, comfort and moonshine in between.

King of My Heart by wildestdreams / @thelavendrhaze (83k)

Harry shrugged, his shoulders brushing against Louis’. “I think since I was young, I craved that feeling, though. I didn’t always hate being a prince, but over time, certain aspects of it just bothered me so much. I remember being four years old and realising that every person in the world knew my name, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted that. I told my mum as much and she tried telling me that being a prince is not a punishment. That it was a privilege that I should be happy about it, but no one asked me if I was. But looking up at the sky, I remember that all of this will one day mean nothing, and neither will I. All the pressure will then disappear and I could just be.”

Louis stayed quiet, allowing Harry the space to open up because he knew Harry wasn’t looking for advice, but just someone to confide in. What he wished he could tell him was that in the short amount of time that he’d known the prince, in Louis’ eyes, he couldn’t be insignificant if he tried. He was brighter than every star up there in the sky. He was all Louis could look at and think about.

or A Red, White, and Royal Blue AU where Hollywood elite, Louis Tomlinson, finds himself falling for the closeted Prince of England.

These Bad Omens (I Look Right Through Them) by likelarry / @likelarryfics (82k)

How on earth does someone his parents' age look so damn hot? All of their other friends look... bland and boring.

But Louis, fucking hell. He's something out of Harry's wettest fucking dreams.

Where Louis is Harry's parents' friend and teaches at Harry's university. Harry can't resist getting a taste.

So Keep My Candle Bright by whisperdlullaby (78k)

Louis returns to his hometown after four years to find that the reverend’s son has done some growing up of his own.

Elephant Juice by stylinsoncity / @stylinsoncity (32k)

Harry doesn't understand boundaries. Louis doesn't mind at all.

[meandheraresoulmates]

Drunk-dazed — a dodgerfox fanfic

Fandom: The Artful Dodger (2023)

Warnings: none

Relationship: Jack "the Artful Dodger" Dawkins/ Belle Fox

Characters: Jack "the Artful Dodger" Dawkins, Belle Fox

Tags: Fluff / missing scene from 1x06 / canon compliant / kissing / lots of kissing / just a hint of smut / Jack centric / 3rd person narrator

Word count: 2.1k

Summary: Belle had the audacity to huff, «Of course not, don't be ridiculous. I dismissed the coachman a few blocks from here so that even if my parents suspect something, he won't tell a thing.» «That was quite smart of you» Jack admitted, relishing in the satisfied smile that made its way up Belle's face. «But how did you plan on returning?» For the first time since they met, Belle looked almost sheepish. «I was rather hoping that you'd walk me home» she muttered, not meeting his eyes. or, the missing scene we all were waiting for between 1x06 and 1x07

AO3

Jack Dawkins had been drunk before - hell, he was a sailor. They handed him his first pint long before he could call those sparse blonde hairs on his chin stubble. But no amount of alcohol in his system had ever come close to the feeling of Lady Belle's body pressed on his front, her lips on his and her scent filling his nostrils, leaving him lightheaded and weak in the knees.

It was almost pathetic, he thought in a fleeting moment of clarity before losing himself again in the intoxication that came from her closeness - the way Belle had manhandled him and pushed a bewildered Jack against that pillar. She was the inexperienced one - not that they had ever talked about experiences of that kind, he just knew that Milady had never been with a man like that before.

Yet here she was, soft mouth moving fervently against his, hands laced in his ruffled locks, not giving a care in the world about what anyone could see and think. She was facing the physical aspect of their newborn relationship the same way she took on surgery and everything medicine-related: head-on, confident, and daring, taking everything in her path as it belonged to her. Jack would be lying to himself if he didn't admit that it was her brilliance, her sharp mind and even sharper tongue that pulled him in like a moth to a flame, that lit a fire in his belly and gave him a sense of euphoria that 'till that moment only thievery had granted him.

He almost didn't recognize himself when a low hum escaped his throat. Belle was running her nails down his scalp, and it felt heavenly. Goosebumps erupted on his skin and he needed her close, closer than what was deemed sensitive outside a beaten-up tavern, even if sensibleness was thrown out the window the moment he put her mouth on hers. His hands sneaked around the heavy clock on her shoulders to latch on her waist and he pulled her flush to his chest; a gasp escaped her now swollen and moist lips and Jack was all too eager to swallow it, slanting his mouth on hers and grazing her lower lip with the tip of his tongue.

He moved one of his hands up between her shoulder blades while the other anchored Belle against him when he realized something - and before all blood left his head and went south, he forcibly tore himself from her wanting mouth.

«Belle» he gasped in the small space between their bodies, trying to put a bit of space between them. She was not having it, as the deep frown that had settled between her eyebrows foretold. She looked at him briefly, eyes going from his flushed checks to his parted mouth, before capturing the young doctor's lower lip between hers again.

For a moment Jack forgot why he stopped in the first place and resumed kissing her with renewed vigour until his hand, which was moving as if it had a mind of its own, crept up her back and brushed hot and smooth skin. Suddenly he remembered why he was trying to halt this madness and abruptly moved away, putting Belle at arm's distance but still keeping her close.

«Belle, » he said breathlessly while his chest heaved. «Are you not wearing a corset? »

She looked at him as if he had gone completely mad, chest going up and down while she tried to regain her breath. «Of course, I'm not wearing a corset, » she told him as it was the most obvious thing in the world. «Why would I wear one if I am in my nightgown? »

«Your night-» Jack's eyes were the size of saucers. He closed them, breathed in deeply, and lowered his hands so that they rested properly on her hips. When he blinked, he found Belle looking at him with an amused expression, her eyebrows raised. «So, » he said slowly, looking at her intently to gauge her reaction. «You're telling me that you have gone out, in the middle of a Friday night, in your nightgown, and» he looked down for a moment «slippers? »

Finally, it seemed that the reality of the situation dawned upon Belle. «Well, » she gulped, looking away while the apple of her checks began to flush. «It seems like I didn't think that far when I decided to go out and look for you. »

She was so adorable that Jack couldn't help a soft grin from spreading on his face. «Well, » he mimicked her, raising a hand to brush away a soft curl that had escaped her hairdo and had fallen onto her face. «It seems like you didn't think at all, Milady. »

Belle huffed, clearly annoyed but at a loss of words. Jack barked a laugh, a feeling almost like pride running through his veins: she had been so eager to see him that she hadn't thought it wasn't proper for a lady to go out dressed - or more exactly, undressed - like that. It was intoxicating, he thought while he nudged her nose with the tip of his, to know that he had that effect on her, almost like the one she had on him.

Belle scowled, annoyed, and stepped sideways to move away from him. Jack strengthened the grip on her hips - the proper, chivalry reason for that was that he didn't want her to feel embarrassed and exposed in front of the drunkards going in and out of the tavern. The most selfish and true desire was to savour the sensation of her warm, velvety skin, even through the thin fabric of her gown.

«I jest» he said softly, swiping a thumb across her cheek. Normally, he wouldn't have dared to touch her like that. However, he thought he could blame his tenderness on the alcohol. Just this once. «But you have to admit that it was careless of you. It is dangerous for a lady to go out at night, even more so in this state of undress. » His voice had reached a more serious tone in the last sentence.

Belle smirked and, getting on the tip of her toes, invaded Jack's personal space, bringing her face at a breath's distance from his. Something akin to butterflies fluttered in the doctor's stomach, or perhaps the contents of his intestines were fighting a civil war with all the liquor he had put in his system.

«How chivalrous of you, » her voice had a teasing edge, hands resting on his chest under the pretence of adjusting his jacket. «I didn't deem you a gentleman. »

«Then you poorly underestimate me, Milady» Jack answered in tow, enjoying this playful banter fully. «Also, it is not safe for anyone to be strolling around at this time of the night near Cat and Bagpipes. Usually at this wee hour, the patrons go from blind weasels that dance to...» he caught a movement from the corner of his eye. He swirled himself and Belle away from the pillar they were resting on before a poorly dressed man puked on their feet. «...to pesky badgers » he continued, unphased.

Belle on the other hand was trying very hard not to flinch. «Oh» was all she said. Jack laughed at her rare lack of eloquence. «Right. I think it is time you return to your chambers, milady. May I escort you to your carriage? » he offered her his arm.

She gladly took it, and together they made their way between passed-out men and equally drunk but still on their feet women. «I think now it is a good time to say that there is no carriage» she stated matter of factly. Jack almost snapped his neck upon hearing these words. «Wha- what do you mean there is no carriage? Did you come here all the way from Government House on foot? » he asked, in equal parts horrified and worried.

Belle had the audacity to huff, «Of course not, don't be ridiculous. I dismissed the coachman a few blocks from here, so even if my parents suspected something, he wouldn't tell a thing. »

«That was... quite smart of you» Jack admitted, relishing in the satisfied smile that made its way up Belle's face. «But how did you plan on returning? »

For the first time since they met, Belle looked almost sheepish. «I was rather hoping that you'd walk me home» she muttered, not meeting his eyes.

All thoughts about teasing her vanished from the young surgeon's mind. She was looking at him with those big, brown eyes of hers and reflected in them he could see a vulnerability that Belle had never shown before. Jack flashed her a small smile. «Then what are we waiting for? »

It wasn't that long of a walk from the suburb of Port Victory to Government House - two miles or even less. Still, it took them almost one hour to reach the back of the garden where Jack usually sneaked in. If somebody were to ask him why, he would answer that the shoes Lady Belle was wearing weren't suited for walking - but deep down they both knew it wasn't the truth. They wanted to savour the unique, peaceful stroll holding hands, pretending to be a typical couple in the early stages of courtship.

When they reached the bottom of the spiral staircase outside Belle's bedroom, Jack let go of her hand to help her climb and open the window shutters.

«Do you go all these lengths every time you come here when there is a perfectly functioning door? » Belle asked, making her way into the bedroom to light a candle.

Jack turned and was about to reply when the sight before him left him breathless. Under the candlelight, Belle looked ethereal - her hair had escaped the braid she had put them in to go to bed and was now framing her face like a halo. Her skin was golden, her eyes as deep as the oceans he had navigated all these years. She was the most beautiful woman Jack had ever seen, he thought, and she wanted him. She had kissed him. This mere notion made him euphoric.

«Jack? » Belle called, confused. His eyes snapped to her face, and in two long strides, he was in front of her. The surgeon took her face between his hands and sealed their lips together, a rough desperation he had never felt before cursing through his veins. Belle had just enough time to put the candle down before fisting the material of his shirt between her fingers and kissing him back with the same amount of passion.

Jack felt delirious and he knew that the alcohol had nothing to do with it. He wanted Belle as near as possible, to touch every inch of her skin, memorize and explore every nook and cranny of her body with his hands, eyes and lips. His mouth seemed to have a mind of its own as he moved away from her lips, trailing kisses down her jaw and along the soft skin of her neck.

It was only when a soft moan erupted from Belle's parting lips that Jack regained control of his actions. He forced himself to part from her skin and took a step away, putting some distance between their bodies. He was panting, and so was Belle. It took them a few minutes to catch their breath, and when they did, they were too embarrassed to look each other in the eye.

Reluctantly, Jack withdrew his hands from where they rested on Belle's waist. «So» he stammered, an uncharacteristic awkwardness slurring his words «I bid you goodnight. »

Belle nodded vigorously as if he had just uttered the most brilliant thing in the world. «Goodnight, Jack. »

He nodded back and turned around, making his way to the window. He already had a foot on the first step of the stairs when he turned, and found Belle looking at him from the same spot where he had left her - in her eyes, the same longing that was squeezing his chest and made each step feel like he was walking into the sea with rocks in his shoes. Jack's determination faded away and in just two swift steps, he found himself standing in front of her. He cradled her face between his hands and molded their lips together, tenderly, as if too much pressure could break her.

When they parted, Belle was already smiling, as was he. «Goodnight, lady Fox, » he whispered, brushing his nose against hers, basking in the smile she gifted him.

«Goodnight, dr. Dawkins, » she said softly.

Jack Dawkins had been drunk before. He enjoyed the feeling of a warm stomach, a buzzing head, and tingling skin, the way the world seemed to lose all its blunt edges, and people were more inclined to unfiltered happiness or unending sorrow as if the fumes made their restrictions disappear.

However, he would have given up alcohol forever if that meant he could see Belle's smile this close one last time.

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

...is anyone still here? hello fellow The Artful Dodger enthusiasts!! thank you for clicking on this story. this is my ode to the fantastic show and a gift to all of us who have loved it and are still waiting for a season 2. i can't believe my longest story is a brainrot about Jack Dawkins and Belle Fox but here we are, these two have all my heart and if we don't have a canon happy ending i will do something that will change the course of hulu's life forever. i hope you liked it and if you did i would love to hear your opinions and comments :") bye!!

[weshallc]

HAPPY 75th BIRTHDAY NHS

Call the Midwife Special AU FIC

HAPPYBIRTHDAY @ilovemushystuff I know you aren't 75! but I hope you enjoy this. Like the NHS you are so loved, appreciated, valued and vital to this community. But in a much better state than the NHS. ❤💌🎈🎁🎂

Thank you @fourteen-teacups for being the most patient person in the world. It felt like 75years since we started writing this. 🥰@roguesnitch yes you can adopt a donkey.

Disclaimer: Any resemblance to TV presenters living or dead are completely coincidental. Absoloutley. 😬

July 5th 2023, Aylward Care Home, Poplar.

“Come on Jack, do you want to have a wee sit in the garden? It's a lovely morning. Let’s fetch your cardi.” 

The tall man is stooped, no longer able to carry his previous imposing six foot stature. Bent by age and years of working his failing muscles and bones are always tired. He turns his head to look at the young fresh faced girl at his side. He likes this one. They are all nice, pleasant, some a little kinder than others. But they are busy, they have mouths to feed, medicines to dispense and bums to wash. This one she seems to have more time than others. Maybe it is because she has the gift of youth. She has time to play with. Jack’s time is running out. Time has started to tease him. Started to play cruel games. Time does not play fair. Time plays by its own rules.

A loud noise alerts Jack and he clings to the girl. She doesn't panic but steadies her friend. For a split second he is back in Derry, but only for a second.

“It’s only the telly Jack. In the day room, don’t worry. Someone’s put the sound up.”

An older woman appears in the corridor, older, but not as old as Jack. He thinks she has a  beautiful smile and a hint of a foreign accent. This one always makes him laugh. He asked her where she was from once and she said Hackney and then she roared with laughter. Jack laughed too; he didn't know why, it just feels good to laugh. But he never asked again.

“Who’s in the day room?”

“I’m not sure, I thought there was just one lady, but it can’t be. You take our Jack the Lad, here, into the garden while I go check it out, Amy.”

Amy. That's her name, sweet Amy. They wear name badges but the writing is too small.

“Thanks Flora.”

Ah yes, Flirty Flora. Now he remembers.

Amy returns to the day room, the telly is still too loud for her own comfort, but bearable. Flora is fiddling with the hearing aids in the ears of the only other occupant. She is being brushed away. Flora doesn't notice or if she does it doesn’t bother her,

“You want to hear, don't you? I’m too big to be a fly, you know. Can’t swat me away so easily.”

Amy smiles and sees what she thinks is a hint of what might be one in the resident resisting Flora’s ministrations.

“Who turned the sound up?” Amy asks as she looks around the otherwise empty room.

“No idea, I don’t think, my lady here, could reach the remote or figure out which button to press. It took me five minutes to guess how to turn it down again."

“Maybe Dangerous Dave is playing pranks again.”

“That’s what I thought but his daughter has taken him out today. It's Wednesday. If you ask me, that TV set is spooked. It’s always doing it.”

Flora completed her challenge of securing and tuning in the hearing aids, She gently takes hold of the arm that was flying into her face and asks if all is now comfortable and clear. She receives a slight nod in response, perceivable only because Flora knows what to look out for.

“Is this the right channel?” asks Amy.

“Yes, It’s 9 o'clock time for Lorraine.”

“I hope it isn’t that footballer’s missus again, right annoying she is.”

“You’re just jealous.”

“What give up this life of luxury for some sweaty millionaire, as if? The residents would miss me. You’d miss me.”

Flora smiles at Amy's protestations and thinks she may have detected another slight nod elsewhere.

A squeaky non descriptive tune pours out of the television and the screen is a vibrant mix of pink and white.

Three people sigh as Lorraine appears before them on screen.

Lorraine, a jolly looking white woman with dark shoulder length hair, who looks to be in her late fifties, fills the screen. She begins to talk to the camera. A Scottish lilt in her voice.

 “Good Morning everyone, how are you today? I hope you are all well. And if you are feeling well this morning, it might be in part to do with the focus of our show. That’s right we moved out of our cosy wee West London studio to venture east into Tower Hamlets.”

It becomes clear Lorraine is standing in front of an old building probably dated back to the late 1800s.

“The reason we find ourselves in Poplar this morning is to celebrate the 75th anniversary of the birth of the National Health Service. And what better way to do that, than in the Patrick Turner Health Hub that has provided primary care predating the formation of the NHS. In all that time it has been the working home of one family.”

The camera now pans out to reveal a Victorian building that has been extended and modernised over the centuries. Some additions are more historically sympathetic than others. Lorraine continues.

“There has been a Turner working here since the end of the Second World War. Including our very own medical expert and friend of the show, Dr Teddy Turner.”

A man of similar age to the presenter pops into view. He is tall, but doesn’t overshadow our host. His hair is dark but the light grey that highlights his unruly tresses may once have been blonde. He is smartly dressed in a dark tailored three piece suit, pink shirt and tie haphazardly adorned in medical equipment such as thermometers, stethoscopes and those things for looking in your eyes and ear.

 “Good Morning, Dr Turner.” 

“Good morning, Lorraine and welcome to Poplar.”

They chat in the tone of two old friends surprised to have bumped into each other at the doctor’s that morning.

“Well, it’s lovely to be here and the staff have made us very welcome. I’m sure the last thing they wanted on a busy Wednesday morning is a TV crew to contend with, but they've been really lovely.” 

“I think like everybody else involved in patient care we are only too glad to have the opportunity to celebrate 75 years of the National Health Service. And share a little bit of our part in that incredible history.”

“Well, shall we do just that very thing? After the break we will be venturing inside the Patrick Turner Health Hub. Where we will be meeting more Turners talking about the last 75 years of working within the NHS. We’ll be looking at some of the most significant changes over that time, with a family that has always been at the cutting edge, if you will please pardon my pun.”

Those who went to brew a cup of YorkshireTea during the intermission miss the NHS75 anniversary retro adverts for Radio Rentals, pink wafers and playtex girdles.

“Welcome back. As you can see we’ve moved into a sort of conference room. Is that right, Dr Teddy?”

“Yes, it's where we hold training days for our staff and the wider district. We also run information sessions for newly diagnosed diabetics, dementia support, mental health, stopping smoking, drug and alcohol advice. And of course women’s health, which here at Patrick Turner’s we specialise in.”

“Well, we are going to come on to that, but I see over here some lovely people. I would like you very much to introduce us to.”

The camera moves towards a group of people sat around a functional table with mugs in front of them of various sizes and designs.

“This is my big sister, Angela. She was a full time GP here for over thirty years and now runs a lot of our education programmes and Well Woman clinics. Her daughter Jools has taken over her mantle and also her office and is currently one of our full time GPs.”

A slim blonde woman who appears to be in her late 50s or early 60s becomes the camera operator's focus. Her hair is tied back from her face, which is thin and angular, but her blue eyes have a gleam and her lips are failing to hide a smirk. She carefully clutches a blue mug and seems to be holding it quite tensely at a deliberate angle. A few letters are revealed between her fingers UK, THE, IES.

“So she’s your niece. We might be able to catch a word with Dr Jools later, but she’s busy seeing patients right now. Is that right, Dr Teddy?”

“Yes, she is my niece. No-one does nepotism quite like the Turners.”

“Moving on.” Lorraine is starting to sound as if she is wondering who is running this show? “And who is this distinguished looking gentleman next to your lovely sister?”

“This gentleman also celebrates his 75th birthday this year. He's actually slightly older than the NHS. This is Sir Timothy Turner, Lorraine. Or as I refer to him Lord Buggerlugs.”

“That seems very unkind, but having a sibling myself it's relatable. I must also apologise to anyone offended by any inappropriate use of language so early in the morning. Regular viewers will know this is to be expected when Dr Teddy is my special guest.”

“I’m seeing a disapproving glance from the lady next to Sir Timothy and the main reason we are here today. Dr Teddy’s, Sir Timothy’s and Dr Angela’s mum is also here. Dr Teddy, please introduce us to this remarkable lady.”

“Lorraine and viewers this is Sister Shelagh Turner, my, sorry, our mum. She came to Poplar in July 1948. It was the inception of the National Health Service. She arrived as a nurse and newly qualified midwife to work on the district with the nuns at Nonnatus House.” 

“I wonder if I could ask Sir Timothy to explain a wee bit of the history of Nonnatus House and its relevance in the East End of London.”

The camera focuses on a tall gentleman looking a good ten years older than his siblings. (They definitely appear to have been a good ten years). He is also dressed as smartly as his younger brother, but minus the novelty tie. Anyone who studied medicine in Edinburgh would recognise this tie’s pattern. He clears his throat and looks directly into the camera.

“Only if you cease referring to me as Sir Timothy. I accepted my knighthood from the late Queen in recognition of my rewarding career as a GP and as an advocate of the NHS and Public Health. I am now retired from medicine. I do continue to campaign for justice for those who through negligence contracted Hepatitis C and the HIV virus as a result of blood transfusions. Compensation has still not been fully distributed and no UK public body has ever admitted responsibility. Therefore, my job is not yet done. So therefore, I’m just Tim.”

“That’s so well said, Sir Tim. And that seems to be a thread that runs through the Turner family. Generation after generation. Your father, the late Dr Patrick Turner who this medical practice is named in memory of, was an early advocate for the families affected by Thalidomide. As you have so rightly reminded us, you have spoken up for all those affected by the 20th century Factor 8 scandal. Your sister, Dr Angela Turner is a voice many will be familiar with on Women’s Hour on Radio 4 sharing her wealth of knowledge on the menopause and postnatal trauma. And of course our own Dr Teddy brought clarity and evidence based truths to our viewers during the recent Covid pandemic.”

For the first time they all look less assured, even Dr Teddy is lost for words. He and Angela both look towards their older brother.

“We’ve all been inspired by our parents. Dad was a great believer in medicine's ability to heal after witnessing the return of the injured as a child in Liverpool from 1914. He was able to compare those times to the wider use of antibiotics which he witnessed as an army medic during WWII. As a GP working through the 60s he saw, thanks to vaccination, the demise of TB and Polio both of which had previously left their scars on our family. The Thalidomide scandal was a heavy blow to recover from, for a GP who only wanted to prevent and ease suffering. Fortunately he  married Shelagh, who loved and believed in him completely." He nods towards the lady sat next to him.

"Through her religious background she understood the way ahead isn’t always clear or certain, She always used to quote St. Julian of Norwich to us as children, ‘He did not say you would not be assailed, you will not be laboured, you will not be disquieted, but he did say you will not be overcome.’ My father was not a religious man, but I believe he drew strength through my mothers steadfast faith in God, and even more so from her faith in him.”

“Thank you Sir...Tim. Well, I think that’s given us all a lot to think about as we go to another wee break.” 

Viewers who want to adopt a donkey are infuriated by adverts for Babysham, tinned spam and a Tiny Tears doll. 

 “Welcome back to Lorraine in Poplar.”    

“So here I am, sitting next to the mother of these fine boys and the gorgeous Dr Angela, Sister Shelagh Turner.”

 “Greetings”

A small woman with steel grey hair pulled into a tidy bun sits between Tim and Angela. She wears a tailored navy jacket with a delicate gold pearl and ruby brooch on the lapel. She holds her mug less furtively than her daughter and viewers can clearly read the words If In Doubt Just Ask Mum.

“From what I’ve been told by your son you qualified as a midwife in 1948.”

 “I did.”

“Dr Teddy, your mother is Scottish!” Lorraine cries in surprise, because obviously she hadn’t introduced herself to her guest before the show. “I can see we are going to get along quite famously. Can you tell me the changes you have seen over the last 75 years?”

“Oh my dear, you may have to cancel one of those shows that follows this one, about relocating abroad or selling something you found in an attic, for me to tell my story.”

Viewers are frantically trying to work out how old Shelagh Turner is as this indomitable lady cooly answers every question. She brings a sense of calm to the temporary studio, in a building she has been familiar with most of her life. If at that moment anyone asked Alexa or Siri to show them the meaning of professional they would instantly produce a picture of Shelagh Turner. 

“My mother died when I was young. I nursed her through her affliction, as I would my father too. I didn’t want to be a greengrocer, like my family before me. All I had ever done since being a small child was nurse. I knew no other life. So after my father died at the end of the war I headed to London. They were crying out for nurses and that is who I am.”

“The greatest change I’ve seen besides the obvious advances in technology, is the reliance on single use plastic. Nothing was disposable in my day, including syringes and enema tubes. Everything had to be autoclaved and reused. But technology has to be the most significant advancement in the day-to-day practice of nursing care. We didn't have machines to do the work for us. If someone was receiving blood or intravenous fluids, through a drip you understand, we had to calculate the drip-rate in our heads or on paper. Then we had to count the drips in the reservoir every 15 minutes to ensure it wasn’t going too fast or too slow. There weren't any machines beeping to alert us to problems.”

Angela, who had been quiet up until this point,just watching the whole shebang with the same amusement of someone not at the top table observing a bridesmaid with a nosebleed, chose this moment to interject.

“I think a lot of current nurses would be happy to get rid of those infernal bleeps.”

“I’m sure you are right, dearest. When I first qualified, the only machinery I was familiar with was the iron lung used to treat Polio patients..."

Below the lens two hands brush against each other.

“I remember it well.....” He says.

“Too true, dearest. It may now be antiquated and look barbaric but we were glad of it during the Christmas of 1958.”

“Did you have Polio as a child, S...Tim?” 

“I did, Lorraine. As Mum said, I ended up in hospital over Christmas when I was ten-years-old. My parents had to cancel their wedding.”

“Oh no! Deary me.”

The presenter appears to be lost for words. This part was obviously not rehearsed. Guest co-presenter Dr Teddy is of no help as he has the countenance of the youngest child, who is always in bother, becoming aware that his big brother is finally going to get it.

“I suppose that wouldn’t be considered very shocking or unusual these days. But just for the sake of propriety, Timothy’s father, Patrick, was a widower. Timothy sadly lost his mother to cancer a couple of years earlier. Another dreadful disease we have made great strides in treating in the last 75 years.”

“You and Dr Turner worked with the Nonnatus nuns, I'm led to believe. They may not be known to our wider audience, but are still very much remembered with affection and gratitude in Poplar, am I right?”

“I hope so, I would like to believe so. The Order of St Raymond Nonnatus trained as nurses and midwives in Euston, arriving in Poplar in 1899. Once the NHS formed, the nuns worked alongside state trained nurses and pupil midwives, most of whom lived in the convent originally based in Leyland Street. They moved to Wick Street in 1959, where they stayed until the late 70s. The Turner practice was always closely linked to Nonnatus. Patrick, my husband, unusually for the time, had a special interest in women’s health. It wasn’t like today, women were just expected ‘to shut up and put up’ as Sister Evangelina used to say. She was a rather bold nun who was always a little ahead of her time and not afraid of telling it like it is, or was.” 

Shelagh pauses for a moment as if she is recalling something she chooses not to share. Angela, sensing her mother’s brief loss in concentration, picks up the thread.

“There were more home births in those days. Mum and Dad ran what we would now call a mother and baby unit, but they were known as maternity homes. We are actually sitting in what was once a four bedded ward. The rest of the rooms were divided up to house our phlebotomy service and provide extra clinic space. One of the labour rooms we still use for minor surgery. Most health centres provide a particular service these days so there isn’t a doubling up of specialities. Patients will know they may be sent to a different centre than their own GPs surgery for let’s say, diabetic advice, heart monitoring, eye checks and podiatry. At Patrick Turner’s Health Hub we have continued my parents’ work. Focusing primarily on women’s health, neonatal care and respiratory conditions, something my parents as ex-smokers were very keen to learn more about and educate their patients.” 

“Sister Shelagh, you were a smoker? I am shocked to hear this.” Lorraine looks horrified, she appears so wholesome.

“Oh, everyone smoked during the war years and into the 60s. It was even thought to be good for you at one time, or so the tobacco companies wanted us to believe.”

Dr Teddy suddenly realises he hasn’t spoken in over ten minutes and is getting paid for this.

“You didn’t smoke when you were a nun though, did you Mum? I blame Dad, he was a bad influence. Tim told me he remembers him smoking in clinic." Before his mother's glare alone ruins his blossoming media career, Lorraine interupts.

“A nun!? You were one of the sisters, Shelagh?”

“Yes, I was, when I first arrived at Nonnatus in 1948, but not when I left in 1958. Obviously.”

“Obviously.” Lorraine is looking at all Shelagh's children seated around her. “Your children are giving all your secrets away today, Shelagh. I think Dr Teddy might end up on the naughty step when he gets home.”

“It was a long time ago and I learned everything I know working with the Order, especially from my dearest friend, Sister Julienne. But the last sixty years have been the happiest and most fulfilling of my life. And the majority of  them have been spent working within and for the NHS. And that’s why I’m here with you today.”

“Nice deflection back to our main topic today, Shelagh. Are you after my job? The producer in my ear has just asked me to not let you leave before I book you in for another show... on your own without your lovely family. Oh! I see.. before the Daily Mail gets to you first for your story, he‘s added. Don’t think that will be happening anytime soon, looking at the expression on Shelagh’s face.”

“We are off for another break now, viewers.”

Viewers wanting to take out an over 55s life insurance policy securing themselves a free pen are now on the phone to the TV regulator Ofcom in protest to advertisements for Brylcreem, old Spice and the Dandy and Beano.

“Welcome back. So, we are going to end today’s NHS75 special with a lovely gift for the Turner family. It’s the least we can do after all this family has done for us over the last 75 years. This is a complete surprise for the Turners. Not all of the Turner children are here today. Tim, Anglela and Teddy’s sister, May, is also in the family firm. She chose to follow in her mother’s footsteps. No! She is not a nun. But the Chief Nursing Officer in a hospital based in Hong Kong. When did you last see May, Shelagh?”

“Oh, it was before Covid, she was due to come home Christmas 2020 and couldn’t and she's been so busy she hasn’t been able to reschedule. She’s so dedicated.”

“Wonder where she gets that from?” Tim and Ted say in unison.

“I don’t like flying now at my age. Angela went out there last year, didn’t you, dear? They’ve always been very close.”

“Look up at the big screen on the wall, Shelagh.You won’t see a video about vaccination or what to do if you are having a stroke. But, who is this?”

The numbers for the surgery disappear from the screen and are replaced by the bright smile of a Chinese woman wearing a white silk blouse, giggling and shouting “now” repeatedly.

“Hello Mum, Hello Fam! How are you all? And how is dear old Poplar?”

The East London room is full of forcefully expired air and cries of “May”.

“I'm going to leave you all to chat privately, in a moment. But can I just ask, May? You grew up in Poplar, do you have good memories?”

“Oh, yes. I came from Hong Kong in 1963 and couldn’t speak a word of English. Patrick and Shelagh fostered me and eventually my birth mum gave permission for them to adopt me. Mother Mildred brought me and some other children, who were orphaned or estranged from their parents, to start new lives. But I remember Poplar with so much love; the sisters, Fred, Vi and Reggie who ran the corner shop. Darling Aunt Trixie and Jonty, my friend Colette and her mother, Nancy. Then there was Pastor Robinson. Too many to name.. Nurse Crane and Miss Higgins mustn't forget them. And lots of girls called Alison. I actually thought all English girls were called Alison for a while. I even thought about changing my name to Alison. Everyone was so welcoming and helped me feel right at home. It was just a shame about Teddy really.”

“Oh! That Turner sense of humour. I see it is intact over the miles. Angela is nodding her head in agreement with your remarks about your younger brother. I need to maybe have a few minutes chat with her in the Green Room after the show. You returned to Hong Kong, May, as a nurse. Can you tell us a wee bit about that?”

“Of course. As much as London will always be my home. I wanted to give something back to my place of birth. The reason Mother Mildred brought me to England was because there wasn’t provision for someone in my situation over here in the 1960s. I wanted to return and see what changes had been made and if I could contribute in any way. It also gave me a chance to meet my Chinese mother again and thank her for giving me the opportunities I had because of her sacrifices.”

“Did you get to spend much time with her, May?”

“Yes, I did. She passed away a few years ago. I got a chance to say goodbye and to be with her at the end of her life as she was at the beginning of mine.”

“That’s lovely May. I’m going to let you catch up with your family now. I’m sure your mum has a lot of questions for you to answer. Probably starting with when are you coming home? Thank you, May Turner.”

“And thank you to all my guests on this NHS 75th anniversary special. Thanks to all the Turners: Shelagh, Tim, Angela, May and our own Dr Teddy. I will be back tomorrow with more inane guests to chat with. Won’t be anywhere near as much fun as this, I promise you.”

The camera focuses on Dr Teddy Turner who is rubbing his right forefinger against his thumb.

"We will leave you with the words of the Health Secretary in 1948, Mr Nye Bevan."

"No society can call itself civilised if a sick person is denied medical aid because of lack of means."

As the credits roll the camera moves to on an outside wall. It focuses a well polished brass plaque on which three lines are written.

KENILWORTH ROW MATERNITY HOME AND SURGERY DR. P. TURNER

"Here, here!" Is followed by cheers and clapping.

“Well that was the best episode of Lorraine I've ever skived off to, with a cuppa, in all my working days.”

“Flora, we are not skiving, we are socialising with the residents and attending to their recreational and creative needs.”

“You do have a way with words, our Ames. You applied to tech to do those exams you need, yet? You know the ones to get into Uni to do your nursing.”

“No, I haven’t. Stop nagging me. I’m not good with exams, Flo, you know that.”

“You’re very good with people though, Amy. More than good. And the kindest person I’ve ever met.”

“Counts for nothing Flora, you have to be one of those clever buggers to be a nurse these days. I’m happy here with my Grans until Aldi or some other supermarket makes me a better offer I can’t refuse.”

“Well. I’m going to keep nagging. But in the meantime, I Wouldn’t say no to Dr Teddy checking out my auld ticker with his stethoscope, one day.”

“Oh Flora, you are crude. His niece is my doctor. She’s brilliant, she really helped me out with that little problem I had.”

“Well, I could have helped you out with that, Amy. Change your washing powder or tell that man of yours to dip it in Domestos bleach before he comes near you next time.”

“Flora, you're shocking......are you alright, love?”

Amy notices tears streaming down their companion’s face, but her eyes remain bright and clear.

The young carer dabs those tears, “Magic hankie cures all. As my gran used to say.”

“Poor old love, probably brought back memories. Talking about them Nonnatuns,” Flora added. “You alright Sister? I know where there is a nice piece of Victoria Sponge with your name on it. Amy here will put the kettle on.”

“How old do you think she is?”

“Dunno. No one seems to know. No one knows how long she’s been here. Dangerous Dave says she made a deal with God to look after the people of Poplar for all eternity.

“You know Dangerous Dave talks bollocks, right?”

“I’m just saying what I heard. So about Dr Teddy, do you think he's on Tinder?”

“He’s sixty-years-old, Flora. Get a grip.”

As they leave to put the kettle on and cut the cake. The sound coming from the televison set suddenly increases.

[fics4you]

This was a fic I chose to write after a friend of mine told me she wished there was more hunger games stuff.

Sickie: Peeta

Caretaker: Katniss

*set post hunger games when things are back to normal and they're married because I like fluff 😊*

Also spoiler alert!!!!

Katniss knew something was off with her husband but she couldn't quite place what. He had seemed off since breakfast, every morning, even since before they got married, he had made her breakfast, but this morning he hasn't even set foot in the kitchen. Not that Katniss cared that he didn't cook for her, she had no problem cooking for them, but she found the behavior strange.

On top of that, Peeta left the house without giving her a kiss goodbye before he left for work, which he had always done, every day without fail.

Peeta was sick, he knew he was sick, he never got sick. He didn't even know how to handle being sick, But the few things he did know:

1. Don't let Katniss know you're sick

2. Don't get Katniss sick

He figured that would be easy enough to do, so he became determined to just stay away from her to avoid getting her sick.

The whole day dragged on, Peeta was tired, achy and couldn't stop sneezing. He wished he had brought an extra handkerchief as the one he brought was unusable.

He trudged through the front door, "Peeta! You're home" Katniss came over to him and went to kiss him, Peeta took a step back, instantly hurt flooded Katnis's face. "Peeta, is everything -"

"heg-tch hgtchh" he stifled the sneezes, a habit he picked up during the games and still couldn't break, Katniss was concerned, she placed a hand on his shoulder, "Peeta, dear, remember what Prim said"

Katniss reminded her husband of what the young girl used to say, "you'll break your ears like that" Peeta nodded, "sorry, old habits die hard" Katniss nodded sadly, she brushed a strand of hair off of his face, only for her fingers to feel the heat radiating. "Peeta, I think you have a fever" Peeta nodded, "you can't get sick" he mumbled, before taking a step away from his wife, "het-chhu hktchhu eht-chhU etChu!" Katniss was happy he wasn't stifling the sneezes, but she was frustrated, why was her husband avoiding her, she didn't care if she got sick, she wanted to take care of him.

"Peeta, can you let me care for you?"

"no! I'm fine" he started to walk away,but got dizzy, causing him to stop and sit down on the couch. Katniss hurried over to him, "Peeta, I know I'm not Prim, but I can do some healer work. Please, let me care for you" Peeta was stubborn as always, but so was Katniss, and he knew that. And Peeta was too sick to try and fight his wife, "okay, but please don't get sick" Katniss kissed his forehead, "i won't" she left the room, coming back a moment later with a few herbs which she mixed water with to turn it into a solution, instructing her husband to drink it. He made a face at the taste, but swallowed it nonetheless.

Katniss took the dish into the kitchen and began preparing tea. She came back and sat next to her husband on the couch, "Peeta-"

"hutchu! Heh-tchu! Ehh-ktchu ktch-cHU"

"oh darling, bless you" she took the towel she had dried her hands on to clean his hands and his face, holding the towel to his nose she softly spoke "blow" Peeta was embarrassed, but did as she instructed, she kissed his temple, "I'll be right back" she went to their room and got a fresh handkerchief for her husband, returning to the couch and handing it to him, just in time for him to muffle two sneezes into it. "the medicine made my nose itch"

"I know dear, but it'll help in the long run" she explained, "why don't you head to bed, once the tea is done I'll bring it to you" Peeta nodded, he trudged upstairs with the handkerchief clasped in his hand, he got upstairs and removed his work clothes, putting on his comfortable pajamas and taking a robe he was given by Haymitch and wrapped it around him, the fever causing the poor sick man to have a chill.

True to her word, Katniss brought the tea to her husband, she settled next to him on the bed, whispering stories to him while he sipped his tea. Once he finished he lay down, head on her lap and arms around her, Katniss gently stroked his hair while he dozed off.

[galaxyregent]

Here we have Dagur's Family, his mother Iona and his sister Brenna as a child. As you can see Brenna and Dagur favor their mother. I imagine Oswald had red hair too, though faded from the years. All three of Oswald's children got his eyes. Heather got dark hair from her mother.

Iona was a fierce and well respected warrior of the tribe, coming for a prominent family. She came from a family where she had one brother (Harold/Herald) and two sisters.

When I picture Iona and Oswald's relationship, I dont picture one of deep love but practicality. Iona was a good match for the chief and she found fulfillment in bettering her tribe and assisting him in war. She was never the type to stand still. Even though they weren't in love, they respected each other deeply. There was never a whisper of infidelity on either party while Iona lived.

Iona loved her children fiercely, wanting only the best for them in the future. It was actually more from Iona than Oswald the children get their mental instability from. Iona was great at managing it, on the battlefield she always let loose. For those who don't know, Berserkers were a supposedly real type of warrior among vikings. They would drink some kind of medicine, likely a serious stimulant, and charge into the battle fields, destroying all in their wake. It was said in battle they couldn't even differentiate between friends and foes so even allies had to give them a wide berth.

Brenna and Dagur loved their mother in turn, but only Brenna remembers her with any clarity. Still, Dagur remembers the fierce-some warrior his mother was from stories and faint memories. In BB I always right Dagur having deep respect for women, which seems to be canon too. That was partly due to Brenna being a domineering presence when they were children. She forced him to do her chores a lot.

It's never been clear why Oswald became agreeable, but I have a theory in the BB universe. Brenna is older than Dagur, and when she was born, there were many talks about a potential spouse. Wars between the tribes make intermarriage difficult, so they were trying to think of a spouse on island. However it was difficult, the population of the Berserker tribe is pretty much all related, more or less, especially the more influential clans. Now, inbreeding was nowhere near as understood as it now, but people understand cause and effect. Blood being too close has long since a valid reason to dissolving marriages of aristocracy.

When tribes are at war, blood becomes concentrated leading to sickly babes and deformities. Oswald found that every potential, suitable partner for Brenna was too close in blood. Then he had an idea. Even though he was at war with other tribes, he respected their leaders as warriors and men. What if there was a way to conquer tribes without bloodshed? What about marriage?

Slowly he begins his journey and establishing peace with other tribes. Brenna is promised to young heir of Hysteria tribes, one of his chief rivals. This bring peace and boost of commerce and fresh blood into both tribes, alliance also helps with dragon problem.

Peace with the Hooligan tribe is equally important, so he's thrilled when Stoick has a daughter while he has a son. Considering the difficulties with Hiccup's birth and the slew of failed pregnancies prior to her it's unlikely Stoick would have another child. This is confirmed when Valka is taken and Stoick refuses to take another wife.

It's an added bonus because law would support Hiccup's right to inherit the chief mantle. In the beginning it looked difficult because Stoick wanted his girl to stay close and resolve the succession crisis by marrying her to his nephew, his next closest relation. Eventually, Oswald convinces him to marry Hiccup to Dagur.

This plan actually kind of works because four of his six grandchildren are chiefs in their own right; his three grandsons through Dagur and his granddaughter Silvi through Brenna. Each chief ruling over a powerful tribe.

Iona means both Dove and Island

Brenna means burning or torch, again referencing her hair

[272011]

The first meeting:Part 2 Su

When everyone has their story, of course Su also has his story of his first meeting with his first love.

Their meeting started at the supermarket in the middle of the night. A girl with white hair and purple eyes had just come out of the supermarket to buy some food for her house.

The girl didn't realize that there was a stranger who had sleeping medicine in his hand behind her, that person wanted to put the medicine in [Name]'s nose so that if [Name] was exposed to the smell of the medicine she could fall asleep for a few hours.

But it was stopped by a man who had been watching this stranger's movements from earlier, [Name] was shocked by what happened he didn't think this would happen to him

"Are you okay Miss?" Ask the young man who just saved [Name]

"y-yes, I'm fine" [Name] was still shocked by what happened to her, honestly she didn't expect this to happen to her

"You're still shocked, it's okay, I'll take care of everything."Those of you who don't know what to do can only nod because this is your first time experiencing this

The guy tied the criminal's hands with his red ribbon, whether it's possible or not, but just leave it all to him

When the man was just a few steps away from leaving with the criminal, [Name] called him

"Hey! what's your name?"

The man turned to look at [Name] as the man smiled gently at [Name]

"My name is Su Miss, what about yours?"

"My name is [Name] Schariac, Su"

"Good, I will remember your name and your beautiful face, [Name]"

Su walked back to the police station to deal with this criminal, while [Name]'s side was blushing because of Su

'Why is my heart beating so fast?'

Next day

[Name] walked calmly as usual...but when she was in front of the gate, how shocked she was to see a young man who looked like the man last night who saved her

The man saw [Name] and he didn't expect that the girl he saved last night turned out to be at the same school as him

"[Name]? Turns out we're at the same school! Then let's be good friends, OK [Name]"

"Su, this is unexpected, okay, let's be good friends, Su"

You decided to walk together, while on the way you became the focus of the eyes of the people there because of your closeness

At the front of your class you saw Dr.Mei reading a book in her seat

'It seems Mei didn't realize I was walking with Su, that's good'

"Our classes are next to each other, that makes it easy for us to meet" Su smiled softly again at [Name], [Name] only blushed slightly and smiled sweetly at Su

"Yeah, maybe you want to eat together later?"

"Of course no problem, you will eat on the school roof ?"

"What? ah right!"

"Then I'll go to class first, Su." Su could only nod, seeing the white-haired hadith enter his class while smiling sweetly without fading

When [Name] wanted to sit next to Dr.Mei, Dr.Mei closed her book hard and looked at [Name] seriously.

"Mei, what's wrong? Did I do something wrong?" [Name] started to panic because of Dr.Mei's behavior that she had never seen before

"That guy, who is he?" Dr. Mei's slightly cold tone made [Name] tear up, could it be that Dr. Mei likes Su too? that's what [Name] is thinking now

"H-he's just my friend! he helped me last night! Mei is it possible that you like him too!?"

"Hah?"

"[Name]...do you like that guy?"

"I'm sorry, I will forget it and will continue to support you, so please don't separate from me!?" Okay [Name] has shed a few tears, she doesn't want to be separated from Dr. Mei because of a boy

"[Name]! why are you crying! I don't like that guy, I'm not interested, I also don't want to be separated from you......because you're just my friend [Name]..." Dr.Mei started to really panic Now, this was the first time he saw his only friend cry because of a misunderstanding

"What? So you don't like Su!?"

"No!"

A few minutes later [Name] had stopped crying because Dr.Mei had explained this misunderstanding, apparently Dr.Mei didn't want her best friend to be taken away.

"By the way, I heard you invited Su to take a break together, is that true?"

"Right, Mei don't mind?"

"It doesn't matter, the important thing is that you are happy"

"Yey!"

The bell rang when class was about to start, and the first lesson in [Name]'s class was Mathematics

During break time [Name] and Dr. Mei walked to the school roof to fulfill her promise with Su

"Sorry I'm late, Su!"

"It's okay [Name] I just arrived too" Su saw another person behind [Name], Su intended to ask but the girl introduced herself first.

"My name is Mei, friend of [Name] nice to meet you"

"My name is Su, I just became [Name]'s friend last night, please don't get me wrong."

"Don't worry, [Name] has explained everything."

"Su, it's okay, I brought Mei too, I feel sorry for her."

"It's okay [Name] I've heard about Mei too"

They became very close friends and were always together, Su also didn't realize from the start that he liked [Name] but when Kevin came as a new student Su already knew that this feeling was his first love, until they entered Month.

"Su, are you here?"

"What's wrong [Name]?"

"Mei said you wanted to talk so I came here"

As far as Su remembers, he didn't ask Dr. Mei to tell [Name] to talk to him, what happened?, but if this was the time Su wanted to be honest with [Name] if he liked the girl in front of him, [Name] became prettier after entering. Month with Dr.Mei so sometimes Su can't stand [Name]'s teasing

"Su?"

"[Name] I want to talk to you seriously"

"Yes"

"You've always been very beautiful, maybe this is a bit silly but when I'm with you I feel comfortable and safe by your side, you always make me not like the original me."

[Name] fell silent when she heard Su's unexpected words

"[Name] Schariac, you've probably heard this many times from other men"

"Do you want to be my girlfriend [Name]" Su is very confident now because [Name]'s movements are often a sign that she likes Su

"Of course! I like you too Su" [Name] didn't expect Su to like him too, he was very moved by this sudden statement

Su, who heard that, was also happy. It was true that he thought [Name] also liked him, but at that moment the sound of applause was heard, of course they knew who it was, none other than Elysia

"Elysia!"

"Hahaha congratulations you two! So when are you getting married?"

"Elysia, we just started dating!" Honestly, it wasn't [Name] but Su who blushed because of Elysia's words

.

.

.

The wind blew calmly, a young man known as Su sat leaning against a large tree holding a green leaf.

"Haa~ when can we meet, my dear [Name], I miss you" If anyone asks what happened the answer is [Name] went to another world to meet some of the Schariac family but unfortunately part of [Name]'s memory disappeared only memories - he still remembers the memories he experienced with the people he loves, of course, but he has forgotten the events that happened, he even forgot what it was like on the first day he was dating Su

End~

[dollyboned]

i hate having mcas.

that's it. i said it.

it's so tiring. i can't run, or go for long walks, or just sweat a little. i don't have enough strength for staying up for more than 20min, i can't eat some spices that i totally adore, and my spoons are usually so low. sometimes i simply don't want to get out of bed because im so tired but i have to do so anyway, and usually it happens when i know i'll have p.e. classes. i don't think i completed the two classes since the start of the academic year (february) without stopping and sitting and breathing heavily and feeling so itchy because i can't exercise too much or my histamine levels go high as the sky and being covered by sweat is like wearing a full costume made out of histamine, that im *specially* allergic to.

i see people running and jumping and simply walking under the sun and i feel like im missing something because im so young yet so limited. i should be able to be just fine if the climate changes, or if there's something spicy in the food, or if i need to walk a little, or if i just need to walk by a slightly inclined street, but im totally not able to be "just fine" and move on. my dad gets worried everytime we come back from school and i almost faint because of the exercise, and even though i try to explain how i feel, i know he still thinks that maybe it'd be better if i just exercised a little more to build up strength — and he's not the devil because he can't understand it as we only discovered my histamine intolerance this year because of some medical exams i made when i was 4 and my pediatrist never properly explained. i was 4 and now im 15 — it's basically 11 years being exposed to something im deeply allergic to and never understanding why i'd never get better from dermatitis and why i was so weak.

i feel fragile. my parents know i hate being seen as fragile and breakable and weak yet i can't take any longer. im constantly itching, my mind is always kinda numb, im always tired, my periods always hurt, i have constant migraines, my mood swings are worsening and on top of everything comes the game changer: im also neurodivergent. there's always going to exist someone that have the energy to do everything, and that's not me. socially im basically incapable of approaching people i find cool, the amount of work i've got to do to simply exist like a normal person is unbearable and yet i have to be responsible, good, well mannered, pretty, smart, cool, cute, role model, the best. i never learned to fail. i was always the smartest, the joyful, the responsible, the "i wish your grades were like her's" — i feel so bad to everyone who felt so little next to me because i never wanted anyone to live under a shadow of a version of me that i can't even recognize or remember anymore.

the little me would've looked at me with fear on her eyes and asked if we are failing for being so weak and so tired we can't even really care about learning something. are we really failing? i'm just so tired. i could do better if i wasn't constantly battling in order to only navigate my days without this haunting exhaustion taking me over, or if my head didn't hurt that bad, or if my emotional regulation was a little bit more effective, or if the sounds weren't so loud and the light so bright and people so confusing. i could do better if i wasn't restraining myself from eating something i love because i don't want an allergic reaction, or if i could just stim around, or if i could run around under the sun and laugh about it after. maybe if i had some adjustments my life would get so better. i don't want to run with anyone to feel like im part of something; i just want to feel okay with every aspect of myself, and maybe feeling okay is sitting down everytime i feel tired and taking medicine everytime there's an allergic reaction going on, not reducing myself to grades and stop wearing a damn mask in order to be liked.

i hate having mcas, i hate how my scoliosis correction surgery is never taken seriously when it comes to "it's painfully tiring to carry titanium inside me everyday", and i hate how misunderstood i am. i get it now: im not lazy, im simply chronically exposing myself to a lot of things and now my body is totally overloaded. i've been deeply sick for the past weeks and it's caused mainly by the overwhelming sensation of getting up, getting tired, being misunderstood and having everything to do when i don't have that energy to expend. i want to sleep, watch things about my favorite anime, write a little about it, allow myself to really rest for the first time in my life, eat healthy things that aren't like an allergy bomb inside my organism and i really, really, really want to get to live again, being understood and taken seriously, not ever being called lazy or nothing else. i just want to control what happens to myself and stop feeling on the verge of tears everytime i have to do something that requires movements and focus.

little me would be so sad we lost control over our own body to an allergy that could've been minimized before it ruined our life.

[awlimagines]

Hello! I‘m a big fan of your works but unfortunately I am extremely shy and can‘t muster up the courage to really comment or anything. I just wanna say I appreciate your stuff a lot, a wonderful life is one of my biggest comfort games and unfortunately I don‘t see as much content for it as I‘d wish there was, so seeing you write about it always brings a smile to my face :^)

Also while I can‘t say I wanna kiss him badly I‘m glad to see more Daryl appreciation, I love my best friend Daryl he deserves more appreciation LOL (we love weird freak men here)!

Sorry to drop off a request like this but if you‘re still taking rqs: Bachelorettes & Bachelors helping the farmer with painful period cramps? I know this kinda takes out the ambiguity of the farmer‘s assigned gender at birth sorry haha ^^“ (I myself suffer from painful cramps unfortunately hence I‘m a fan of this type of x Reader stuff haha)

Have a good day and keep on going, but remember to take breaks too from time to time (•w•)/

Sorry, it took me a while to get to this!! It made me really happy to see when I was feeling so sick though!! <3

Fortunately, I've never experienced period cramps to the point I couldn't function. I've been blessed that mine have always been relatively manageable without many issues. My husband is very supportive of anything I need (even if I just want something and not actually a need). Having said that, these might be pretty vague and light on details just because I don't have a ton of specific experience beyond friends who had conditions that made theirs terrible.

Also, I don't mind writing for a specific gender. It just seems fair, for the most part, to keep it as vague as possible so everyone can enjoy it. So, I keep it as gender-neutral as possible by default. Please, please send me any requests you have! I do my best to write the ones I receive and enjoy them greatly. :3

Anyway, enough rambling from me. Each bachelor/bachelorette is below the cut!

How They Help You with Painful Period Cramps

CELIA / CECILIA

She only vaguely understands the pain you feel. Cecilia was blessed with light periods devoid of cramps. But, what she lacks in experience, Ceci makes up for in sympathy. During your periods, Cecilia divides her time between working at Vesta’s farm and helping at yours. If you try to protest her working so much the young woman chides you about learning to accept help when needed. Ceci also quickly gets Vesta on board, and you join them for meals each time to limit your cooking. Both women offer you suggestions to help alleviate your pain.

CODY / GORDY

When Gordy encounters you curled in a ball, his first instinct is to fetch Dr. Hardy. You quickly explain that it’s unnecessary; this is a regular occurrence. The silent artist stares at you momentarily, absorbing your explanations before quietly excusing himself. While the thought of his abandoning you during such a time stings, you try to comfort yourself. You’re surprised when Gordy returns within a few hours and apologizes for taking your horse. He was in a rush and didn’t think to ask first. Gordy asks about pain medicine and a heating pad as he unloads various snacks and drinks from the Mineral Town General Store. He insists you tell him immediately if you need anything else.

DARYL

At first, you feel annoyed with the scientist as he rambles off the biology behind your pain. You soon realize the lecture is helping to keep Daryl calm as he assesses the situation and how to assist you best. Beyond some measly chocolate he had on hand, he is not much help the first time. Daryl makes up for this the second time and is prepared with various remedies that might help you feel better. Before long, he has your cycle memorized better than you and is always ready with the things that help you best. He doesn’t offer much help with your cattle but rambles ideas about a watering system to reduce your work for crops.

FLORA

Despite your pain, you find yourself more concerned about Flora. You were explaining how terrible your pain was through gritted teeth when Flora agreed. You couldn’t help but blink in shock at the archeologist. She said she felt the same during her period but just focused on work and tried her best to ignore it. Flora seemed surprised when you offered suggestions and shared your resources to help her. She doesn’t want to take from you. This soon becomes the most extensive argument of your relationship before you both eventually agree on a system to support each other. Flora dotes on you and consistently makes sure you have everything you need while you gently remind her it's okay to take breaks and take care of herself as well.

GUSTAFA

It hit unexpectedly when you were spending time with Gustafa at his yurt. Even through the pain, you felt embarrassed and stuttered out an apology, planning an exit to your farm. The musician caught on quickly to your pain and offered supplies. You were shocked to find the man so well prepared, and he explained that having female friends and keeping extra became a habit to try and help. Gustafa steps outside to give you privacy. He soon offers to have you stay, and he can fetch you anything you might need from home. Regardless of your decision, Gustafa is supportive. He admits to being a bit hopeless in the kitchen but does his best to wait on you hand and foot. He insists on handling any errands you need to be done and hovers if you want to do farmwork in case he’s needed.

LUMINA

You quickly learn that the life of the rich is different from what you expected. At the first mention of your intense period pains, Lumina has already arranged a meeting with Dr. Hardy to guarantee there are no medical causes of your pain. Lumina also insists on you staying at the manor under her care, and with Aunt Romana as backup, it doesn’t give you much choice. They both casually tell you Sebastian will tend to the farm with Takakura until you recover. It isn’t until you explain the guilt of putting more work on the butler makes you feel worse that she relents. Instead, Lumina focuses on learning your favorite dishes and bringing them to you throughout each period. She also masters the art of getting you to accept expensive remedies.

MARLIN / MATTHEW

Despite living with two women, you can tell Matthew is uncomfortable talking about your period. It doesn’t stop him from assisting however he can. Like Cecilia, he does more work to help you at the farm during your periods. While he seems most comfortable helping with the physical labor, Matthew does his best to cook meals for you. He’ll also mumble out suggestions to try and help with the pain. When you discover Matthew has been asking other female residents on your behalf, his face turns red like a tomato. He avoids looking at you as he grumbles about it not being a big deal if anything helped you.

MUFFY / MOLLY

Molly experiences cramps, though she admits they’re not quite as painful as yours. She shares remedies and methods to help from the vast social network of her city friends. You weren’t thrilled with her idea of spa days when Molly first arrived at your farmhouse. The blonde gently bullied you into giving them a try with an adorable pout. They quickly grew on you as you sank into the hot springs and relaxed with Molly. The worst days of your period soon become filled with the hot springs, good food and drinks from the cafe, and plenty of conversation with Molly. While your pain may not be gone, her support and company help make it more bearable.

NAMI

You both slowly realize there are times you never see each other. It turns out Nami suffers similarly to you and essentially just holes up at the inn as she becomes irritable. You tentatively offer suggestions for the things that help with your pain. A sigh of relief escapes you as Nami returns the gesture with her solutions. You’re surprised when you drag out from your bed during one to find Nami at your door. She offers to share the homecooked food the doting Lou made. Nami and you soon have a system alternating between the farm and the inn. You both find comfort in knowing someone else understands your pain and struggles and can provide support.

ROCK

Rock has the best intentions, but you can tell he never paid attention to sex education in school. The blonde surfer understands almost nothing about periods. You're annoyed at his appalled look when you have to explain the menstrual cycle and the source of your pain. The feeling doesn’t linger long when he calls asking if you prefer lemon or lime at the store for your products. You can’t help but laugh as you hear a female worker lecturing him in the background. Rock has to be gently reminded not to eat all your snacks, but he always comes around with new movies from your favorite genre to watch while you cuddle together.

[harryforvogue]

Part Two | Chapter Seventeen: Your Husband, Harry

The Western Front, Infirmary Station 12, France

October 1918

I'm in pain. I can't open my eyes. It's loud around me, but I can't open my mouth to tell the noises to stop.

A nurse comes by me and slowly lifts my eyelid. She peers down at me and clicks her tongue. I feel weight on my forehead and pain spreads through me as if she's touched an open wound and my neck erupts in flames. A shout rings through my ears. "Hold him down!"

The burning sensation falls down to my legs and arms where people grab me and hold me down as the nurse has instructed.

"Harry, listen to me," a different voice murmurs in my ear. It's the company's lieutenant. "Harry, can you hear me? I know it's hurting, but you have to listen to me. Squeeze my hand if you hear me."

Hot tears rush down my cheeks, leaving streaks of lava. I think I squeezed his hand.

"Good," he says calmly. "You're not dying, you hear me? You have a fever and possibly an infection on the wound on your face. That is all. You are not dying. We have given you medicine and we're waiting for it to start working. You're safe."

I'm not safe. I know how these infirmary cots look like, standing alone to the side of the trenches. I am not safe.

"I know you're scared, but you will be okay. We're almost at the end, you hear me? You'll be home soon."

Home. The thought relaxes me. I imagine Annaliese waiting for me at the station. I haven't written to her in weeks. "My wife..." I whisper, trying to open my eyes. There's a cloth over them now but I don't know when it was placed there.

"Your wife is waiting for you. And she'll be there. You need to calm down and not fight the nurses when they come to help you, got it? They are here for you. You can't fight them anymore."

I don't remember fighting them. These past few days have been confusing and painful. I don't know anything.

"I'm going to leave you, but when you're ready, I want you to write a letter to your wife and I will send it to her. You want to write to her, don't you?"

"Yes."

"Good. Get some rest and I'll be here in two days. That's two days, you hear me? Good."

I hear the clicks of his boots as he walks away and then the restraints on my body are gone. My skin feels as if it's melting and the cloth on my face is drenched with tears and sweat. A nurse removes it and places another cloth on my eyes.

"I'm sorry," I tell the nurse quietly.

She doesn't reply, tightening the cloth around my forehead. But as she's leaving, she squeezes my shoulder gently, just to let me know she heard me. When she departs from my bed, I'm alone, in the dark, and scared. I have nothing to do but fall asleep.

***

I am sitting up next week. The nurse brings a mirror over to me and shows me my face again. I can't look at it. The blood isn't stopping and it drips onto my eye as soon as the nurse removes the cloth to redress me. I push the mirror away and ask the nurse to take it from me.

The lieutenant is back again for the third time since I've arrived. He talks with the doctors and nurses around me before walking to me. Since my eye is covered, I have to squint to look at him.

"How are you feeling?" he asks me. He looks tired, but there's a light in his eyes that makes me think about what he said last week. We're almost at the end.

"Am I blind?" I ask him quietly. "Did it go through my eye?"

The lieutenant raises his eyebrows and removes his hat. He's just as young as I am. "Of course not. Harry, you have your full sight. It's just your forehead and eyebrow."

Pain runs wild in my chest. I take a deep breath desperately. "I can see?"

"Yes, of course."

"So I'll return back to the Front?"

The lieutenant hesitates. "I'm not certain yet. The risk of infection is still high. Your fever is low, but I'm still not sure if we should be sending you back. If you lived here or in England, I could send you for a quick leave, but getting you to America and back is too long of a time. Unless you'd want to visit your mother."

"I can't let her look at me like this. She'd die, sir."

"I know. So, let's keep you here for now."

"But if we're attacked, sir?"

He hesitates again as if he's unsure whether or not to trust me with his news. "Harry, we think the war is ending soon. It's been quiet and we've regained all the lines we lost and more. I think it's over."

"Over?" I wait for the happy feeling to pass through me. I don't feel anything at this news.

"Over. We're going home. It'll take you weeks to get home, Harry, but you'll get there in one piece. Did you write that letter for your wife?"

I glance at the side table, a paper resting under my red book. "I don't want to send it."

"Well give it here and let me read it."

My face flushes. "No. I, uh, think I'll keep it for myself."

The lieutenant nods slowly. "And you're sure you don't want to give it to your wife?"

"I don't know. I'm...I'm ashamed. I told her I'd be okay. I think if I told her what's happened and how I've felt these past few days, she'll murder me with her bare hands."

He laughs a bit. "Oh, she's that kind of a woman. Are you scared of her?"

"Of course," I answer, making him laugh some more. "She told me not to get hurt. Said if I did, she'd come here herself and knock some sense into me."

"Oh, Lord. What a wife. Sounds like she really wishes the best for you. How long have you been married?"

I look down at my hands, tears suddenly sting my eyes. "We're barely married. Got drafted only a few months after we came to America."

"No need to worry about that anymore. She'll be there waiting for you."

He stands up and puts his hat on. "I will visit again later. We're almost there, Harry." He glances at the door. "You have visitors."

As the lieutenant leaves, three members of my company arrive, crowding around my bed. Lance, Jerry, and Nedjem look at me for a long time. Nedjem finally says, "You look pathetic." Everyone bursts into laughter and I can't help but smile.

"Thanks, asshole."

***

The candle beside my bed is the last one to be blown out. With the remaining light, I reach for the letter and open it, reading through it.

Annaliese,

It's me. You told me not to get hurt, yet I did. Please don't hate me.

I haven't written in a long time. I wish I had a good reason, but I can't even blame it on this injury because I've refused to write for weeks now. Everyone else writes and I pretend I do too, but the truth is: I have nothing to say anymore.

I'm scared, not only for my life, but for who I am now. I look at myself in the mirror and I feel hatred at what I see. I know nothing.

When I return, I'm going to disappoint. I don't look the same. I don't act the same. You won't recognize who you've married and the worst part is that I can't help it or do anything about it. I am slowly accepting the person I've become even though he frightens the hell out of me. And he'll frighten you.

Last week, it was too quiet. One of the lieutenants told us that by nightfall, we'd have captured the trench, but it was all a set up. I was on the defense line with my gun, but the enemy was already on the move. It happened all so fast. The night was lit up with fire and shells. One of them fell near me.

I don't know if I'm blind. I'm scared to ask. I wish you were here and then hate myself for wishing that because you would be terrified of me.

I'm scared of coming home now. I was eager before, but everything has been different these past few weeks. I'm worried I will come home and ruin the life we've created.

I think it's best if I keep a distance from you when I come home. We can discuss our marriage in greater length then, but I don't know how to think about it right now. You are good and everything I am not. I would be selfish to come home and sleep in your bed and eat the food you cook and accept your kisses. How would I be any better than my father? Am I my father now, Annaliese?

I don't know what to do. I lay here in my cot all day and sleep. Sometimes I'll have a visitor. The nurses and doctors are very nice, but they don't hold conversations as they're very busy. I don't know what to do. I can't stay here or come home. I want to run away, Annaliese. But where would I go? And would you go with me? Nothing makes sense anymore.

The war is ending, people have been saying. I hope so. I don't know how much longer I could do this. Please don't hate me. I could tolerate anyone's rightful hatred towards me, expect yours, even though I know that I deserve it. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

Your husband,

Harry

I blow the candle out and lay down. The night is frighteningly quiet. I want to cry and scream and throw a tantrum like a child. All I can do is wait for morning to come and do all this again.