#medication log

[pittieandpoodle]

today Denver and i went to the vet and we’re officially starting behavior meds! specifically trazodone for specific situations (long car rides for the most part) and a course of fluoxetine every day. hopefully this will help her generalized anxiety and make it easier to do things like behavior modification training.

the vet also did a blood draw so we could run a full panel to make sure she’s healthy, and she took from Denver’s neck. the vet tech was holding her from behind and tilting her head up, and Denver made it about 80% of the way through with only some shocked stiffness and lip licking, and then she said “I Am Done” in the form of very quietly snapping at the tech 😅 so i held her for the last bit of the draw, which the doc took from her leg, and all i had to do was loosely cup her face. she still didn’t like it, and was curling her lips at me, but i guess she really trusts me because she didn’t do anything more.

and finally, the main reason we went today was because Denver has a chipped tooth and needs a dental, but the vet said the tooth isn’t bad and can wait a few months. so thank god, because i can’t afford a full dental right now 😂 (i would have made it work if she needed it like. next week. to be clear 😂)

anyway! a good vet visit. love that it’s a certified fear free clinic, and i love that our doctor was so willing to start medication right away. we won’t see a difference for a few weeks, just like with human SSRI’s, but i’m optimistic that this will be really helpful in the long run.

[creekfiend]

saw an MCAS specialist today and she was very good but unfortunately I have medical trauma so I am crying and shaking in bed an hour later lmao

[tf2-daily-doctor]

Day #17

[prince-liest]

A little bit of celebratory light in the current political climate: I'm working with a local endocrinologist who is versed in gender-affirming care as well as my local LGBTQ+ resource organization to start a quarterly pride clinic that I'm going to run with and staff with the aforementioned endocrinologist. I don't know yet how successful it will be, but we're in a really under-served area and a lot of the local federally qualified health centers are pulling back their gender affirming care offerings due to the recent federal policies so that they can retain their funding, which after speaking to my residency program directer he seems to believe is unlikely to affect us. So I'm going to be working with our program attendings and this endocrinologist to help refer more queer and especially trans patients to myself and one of my seniors who is also really involved in LGBTQ+ health goals for gender-affirming care.

The clinic itself is only going to be quarterly at this time (hopefully monthly in the future) due to the limitations of patient panel sizes and also residency scheduling, but we're hoping that we can also follow these patients in our actual primary clinic, since it will all be in the same building and part of the same system, and the endocrinologist has said she is willing to co-precept these patients (aka. have us forward her the notes and look over them to make sure the care plans are copacetic, as well as get curbsided by us when needed) when we work on hormone therapy in the primary care clinic. I think the main challenge is going to be 1) making sure we have the resources and access to a good multidisciplinary team (main points are mental health resources (gonna ask one of the psych program attendings, he is both openly queer and invested) and infectious disease specialist options that aren't going to result in bad experiences for the patients that we refer that way) and 2) making sure we have appropriate follow-up for patients, which I think on my end is just going to mean me telling our clinic coordinator, "Hey, if it's for this patient panel specifically, you can book me an extra patient per half-day for continuity."

We're also going to be doing internal-ish referral advertising through the LGBTQ+ org, as well as training through the organization and also just through research done by myself and my senior for our co-residents for things like cancer screening guidelines adjusted for risk factors we see in queer people (anal paps, three-site testing, when to screen for breast cancer in trans women, etc, etc). Waiting on my program director to talk to our clinic coordinator to see if there's any way for people to self-refer straight to the pride clinic (probably insurance-dependent) but otherwise it's just...happening.

I think my main wish is that I had more days to directly work with this endocrinology attending to pick her brain. She said she's game for any [redacted weekday] for the clinic once we get things going and I'm on my endocrinology rotation, but I'm mostly working with another endo and only see her twice this month due to her work schedule. She's a great teacher and next time I see her this month I'm going to see if she has time to give me a crash-course on HRT management that will help me synthesize the gender dysphoria treatment clinical practice guidelines I'm reading through from the Journal of Clinical Endocrinology and Metabolism. My PD actually specifically referred a trans patient to us to see that day because he knows I really want more experience with this (and, y'know, she's a great endo doc) so that will be the perfect opportunity.

Anyway! It's a great time to be working on offering more medical resources to LGBTQ patients.

[shedelulululu]

So I've been seeing some theories go around that Langdon is lying about the origin of his addiction, and I'm not saying that's not possible, but it doesn't seem likely with my reading of the show

1. The exact line is "I hurt my back. I told you that. Our own Dr. Hagan prescribed me some pain meds and muscle relaxants."

So he isn't making up this injury, it's something Robby knew about. Could he be lying about still self treating his own back pain? I guess, but idk if you've ever talked to people with chronic pain, especially from back injuries but they're no joke. I'd only wish back pain on my worst enemies.

2. This show seeks to address real world issues. They show us a medical student who is homeless. They show us COVID PTSD in medical workers. They show us violence against nurses. They show us the corporatization of the medical system. All of these are very real and prescient issues in our world and particularly in the US.

One of the most common 'origins' for substance abuse is being prescribed a medication for an injury or other medical condition. Initiation into opioid misuse has three primary sources - family members, personal prescriptions, or friends 1 (I'll address benzos next but let's assume initiation to prescription drug abuse is similar bc I can only give so much of my time to finding info on this topic for a tv show).

All of this to say, I think the show would be more interested in being grounded in this real world issue and bringing light to it and encouraging its audience to become empathetic to those with substance abuse disorder than pulling the rug from under us for drama.

3. If he has back pain why benzos? While yes you would not typically use benzos to treat back pain, it is not unheard of for (self) managing chronic pain. Motivation to use benzodiazepines includes reasons like a sleep aid (if he was using at home this could be a factor), muscle relaxation (this can help back pain and he was prescribed muscle relaxants alongside pain medication), and ability to function during use ("could an addict do what I do?" On benzos yes! Frank is smart, this would've been something he'd take into consideration) 2 .

[dandelion-wings]

listening to a podcast as I make breakfast this morning that referenced how lowering someone's body temperature can slow internal processes down enough to save them when you otherwise might not be able to, and immediately contemplating the scenario where Kaeya has to do exactly that to Jean

[roadkilllz]

M - Medic?

[pittieandpoodle]

sigh. we’re 2.5 weeks in to the anti-anxiety medication. she seems less stressed in the house and on walks, but she’s also lower energy and fussy about eating. it’s also been hot as shit and the wildfire smoke is rolling in, so that probably doesn’t help.

we’ve tried trazodone in the car twice, neither time went well. i actually think it made the car anxiety worse. today we drove an hour both ways for barnhunt practice. no trazodone, and she was panting super hard and fast within 5 mins (how it goes with traz, too). didn’t stop being anxious even to hunt the rats. panted all the way home (she used to have an easier time on the return journey). she also didn’t eat breakfast this morning.

i’m trying really hard to not feel like i made thr wrong choice, going on meds. we’re gonna stick it out to the end of the 8 week adjustment period, check in with the vet, see how it goes.

and of course keep up with daily exercise and enrichment and training. hopefully the puzzle pieces will fall into place soon. i’m gonna reach out to some trainer friends for help, maybe even set up sessions through my job with a coworker.

[frankensteincest]

still baffled by a post I saw complaining that there was too much pissing on house md. none of you can handle good media.

[funsizedshark]

im obsessed with the pitt as a concept because following every single hour in an ER shift is genius. the way they manage to show character growth even within the same day is incredible i love it

[ivanttakethis]

Tov’s Log - Entry 39

————————————————————

The days following Tov’s release from the hospital had gone smoothly.

Wren’s interview announcing that they were twins made waves in the media.

The press loved her and Dian’s debut as a couple.

And she had interviews and photo shoots lined up for the next few weeks.

But Tov knew better than to get comfortable.

She was just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

It dropped exactly a week later with a knock at the front door.

Cassio left the warm kettle for Tov to pour tea into each of their mugs and went to greet the unexpected visitor.

“Ah, Agent Irin.” She overhead them say from the foyer. “How can I help you?”

The hairs on the back of Tov’s neck stood on end.

What does the AREPH want now?

Is it about Lark?

Did they find out who killed him?

“I’m here to speak with you and Tov about that has come up.” Irin said.

A pause.

Then.

“Of course.” Cassio raised their voice, “Tov? Could you come to the door please?”

Tov took a deep breath, set the kettle down, and made her way to the foyer.

She came to stand slightly behind Cassio in the doorway. “Hello Agent Irin.”

The agent nodded once in greeting.

He wasn’t wearing his dark glasses like he had during her interrogation with Agent Pol.

Speaking of…

“Where’s your partner?” Tov asked.

Irin grimaced. “Former partner.” He said. “She’s been placed on desk duty pending disciplinary action for multiple violations.”

“So she was harassing more people than just me.” Cassio hummed, pleased.

Tov frowned up at her guardian.

When did Agent Pol harass them?

Why didn’t they tell me?

“Unfortunately, yes. But I’m not here about that. This is regarding Tov’s recent medical diagnosis.”

They glanced at Tov, then back at Agent Irin, their expression giving nothing away. “Go on.”

“Alien Stage production has asked the AREPH carry out independent testing of Tov’s heart.” He said.

Cassio stiffened, narrowing their eyes, “For what purpose?”

“To verify that she is unable to compete in a possible rematch against Cirrus.”

The words hit Tov like a slap across the face.

A rematch?!

Agent Irin’s answer startled a laugh out of Cassio, “You can’t be serious.”

“Unfortunately I am.” Irin said. “It’s been requested that we take Tov in for testing immediately.”

“She hasn’t even eaten yet!”

“It’s better that she hasn’t. There’s no need to hold her for a fasting period prior to the test administration. Tov will return sooner.”

“Do I have a choice?” Tov asked, despite already knowing the answer.

The agent shook his head. At least he looked apologetic. “I’m afraid not.”

Of course not.

She and Cassio exchanged another glance. Despite her guardian’s placid expression, Tov could see the concern pinched between their brows.

They didn’t want to let her go.

But if either of them resisted, things would only get worse.

Cassio sighed reluctantly, “Very well, you may take her for testing.”

They stepped to the side and guided Tov forward, resting their hands on her shoulders.

“However,” Cassio’s tone turned icy. “If you don’t return Tov to me in the exact condition she leaves in, I will spend the rest of my life hunting you down.” They said, squeezing her shoulders. “And Aurusians live quite a long time.”

Tov suppressed a shiver.

She couldn’t recall a time where Cassio had ever sounded like that before.

Agent Irin’s face twitched ever so slightly. If Tov had blinked she would’ve missed it. “Understood.”

———

The rear windows of Agent Irin’s car were blacked out. As was the partition that separated the front and back seats.

Tov couldn’t see anything through the thick tint.

Ambient noise from outside the vehicle was nonexistent, too.

Not even the hum of the motor made it through whatever soundproofing there was in the cabin.

Her first conversation with Elias came to mind.

“If guards lack transparency, then the AREPH is completely opaque by comparison.” He’d said.

Opaque in every sense of the word it seemed.

Without any visual anchor, it was hard to tell how much time had passed or where exactly they were going.

Based on the lack of stopping and starting, and the gentle turns the car made around curves, Tov could only gather that they were somewhere far outside of the city.

Elias did say the facility location was classified…

After some time, Tov felt the car come to a slow stop.

The doors unlocked and Agent Irin opened the door to her right, “Follow me.”

They were parked in large, windowless structure made out of thick concrete slabs. It was filled with rows and rows of vehicles identical to the one Agent Irin drove.

Bright floodlights shined down from the high ceiling, harsh and unforgiving.

It reminded her of the underground tunnels of the Alien Stage complex.

Maybe they were underground.

There was no way to tell.

Tov trailed behind Agent Irin as he navigated the rows of cars toward a freight elevator.

There was a call box next to the elevator and a security camera positioned above the door.

Agent Irin pressed and held the button on the call box, “This is Agent Irin, Badge 1149, escorting Subject-020547.”

The light on the security camera changed from flashing yellow to red.

It stared down at Tov from its perch, unblinking.

She stared back.

The call box speaker crackled and a disembodied voice answered, “Copy, Agent Irin. Why is the pet-human detainee not restrained?”

Detainee?

They keep pet-human prisoners here?

How many? What did they do?

Tov cut her eyes over at the agent who kept his gaze straight ahead.

“She’s here for medical testing, not as a detainee.” He said. “The research team is expecting her today.”

“Hold for clearance.”

A few moments passed in silence.

Then a few more.

Tov decided to ask Agent Irin the question that had been on her mind since he arrived at Cassio’s house.

“Did you find out who poisoned Lark?”

The agent sighed.

Not a good sign.

“The agency’s investigation into Subject-012864’s death has been placed on hold indefinitely.” He said.

Probably because the perpetrator is dead by now. She thought.

It shouldn’t come as a surprise.

Even still… she had foolishly hoped for something.

“I see.”

The speaker crackled again, “All clear. Proceed to the medical ward.”

The elevator shaft rumbled to life; metal on metal groaning as the mechanisms lurched into motion.

A dull roar echoed off the concrete walls as the car descended.

The heavy door opened wide, like the gaping maw of a wagyein ready to devour Tov whole.

The belly of the beast awaited.

There was no turning back now.

———

Before entering the research wing of the facility, Tov was forced to change out of her clothes and into a bodysuit provided through a slot in the wall of a small changing room.

The suit was white, long sleeved, and made out of a stretchy, mesh fabric.

Upon closer inspection, the material looked to be comprised of small, hexagonal patches sewn together.

It fit snug against her form and covered her feet, almost like a second skin.

She’d never felt a fabric anything like it before.

I wonder if Cassio knows about this…

Her guardian was probably worried sick.

Their tea from this morning was long cold by now too.

Tov sighed and gathered her things in the mesh bag she’d been given.

Agent Irin was waiting right outside the door when she came out of the room.

“I’ll hold onto your personal belongings until the end of the session.” He said, plucking the bag out of her hands and continuing down the hall. “This way please.”

“Uh, alright,” Tov muttered, once again trailing behind him. “Is there a reason why I had to change clothes?”

Irin slowed his strides for her to catch up, “It’s integral to the test. The suit tracks your four major vitals: blood pressure, body temperature, respiratory rate, and — most importantly — heart rate. It will allow the team to remotely monitor your condition throughout the process.”

“Will they need blood work from me?” She asked.

“Not that I know of. The agency already has access to your digital record, so the team will pull any results they may need from your recent hospital stay.”

Tov’s shoulders tensed.

“Do you have access to all of the Alien Stage contestants’ digital records?”

“Only those that are relevant to us.”

No further elaboration.

Okay, how long have I been “relevant” to the AREPH?

Agent Irin stopped at another elevator, sleek and modern instead of industrial, and pressed the top button.

He stepped aside to allow her to enter first.

As the elevator lift ascended, Tov thought back to when the AREPH may have requested her digital record.

Could it have happened after the cafeteria incident with Daiki and Himei?

No.

Before that.

When Agent Pol and Agent Irin came to Alien Stage to interrogate her.

After Lark died.

Maybe it was even further back.

Solei’s escape.

That was Tov’s first interaction with the AREPH, courtesy of Agent Pol.

They may have had access to her record this whole time.

They could’ve been watching her this whole time.

Tov always expected as much.

Agent Pol didn’t seem to buy her story that she knew nothing about Solei’s escape from Anakt Garden.

Now she knew for sure.

She was on the agency’s radar from the very beginning.

The elevator chimed and the doors slid open to the research department lobby.

Both the walls and the floor were concrete here too, but the floor was smooth and polished like tile.

The AREPH seal was etched in the center of the room.

Natural light poured in from somewhere up above them, through carved out shafts in the high ceiling.

Agent Irin led her down a series of concrete hallways lined with blacked out windows and heavy metal doors, so similar to each other it was hard to tell where one ended and another began.

All of the signage was in a segyein language Tov had seen before but was never taught how to read.

Likely intentional.

They came to a stop at the end of a wide hall.

Two doors stood side by side in front of them, each marked with a unique sign.

Agent Irin approached the door on the left and opened it. “This entrance is for subjects.” He said, stepping to the side.

A long, narrow corridor stretched out ahead to somewhere unseen; sterile and brightly lit, like a hospital.

One way glass lined the right wall, concealing the watchful gazes likely on the other side.

She looked over at the agent, curious, “Will be staying here then?”

“I’ll be in the observation room with the research team for the duration of the test.” Irin said, nodding toward the other door. “Once you’re inside, wait for further instructions over the intercom.”

Tov stepped over the threshold and Irin shut the door behind her.

The loud click of the lock looped in her mind with nothing else but the silence to fill it.

Wait.

Just wait.

A tone sounded nearby.

Then a voice.

“Subject-020547, can you hear me?”

“I can.” She answered.

“Good, then we can go ahead and get started. My name is Yakun, and I’ll be your anesthesiologist today.”

Anesthesiologist?

“You’ll be putting me under for the test?” Tov asked.

“We will! But not to worry, it’s only to keep your vitals at a steady rate. No invasive procedures involved.” Yakun said. “Please proceed to the testing chamber.”

She hesitated, only for a moment, before forging ahead.

The sooner she moved through the process, the sooner she could leave.

The white tile flooring changed to metal grating as Tov neared the open chamber door.

Inside was a large, empty tank with glass windows.

It reminded Tov of her Anakt Garden class’s field trip to the aquarium.

Hundreds of alien fish species swam in huge tanks like this, filled with liquid methane and colorful vegetation.

The memory of her classmates’ awed faces was bittersweet now.

Another door to the chamber slid open and two humanoid segyein dressed in hazmat suits filed in.

They set about their tasks in silence, not paying Tov any mind.

A third segyein entered a few moments later and approached her.

“Hold out one hand, please.” They said.

The mask they wore muffled and distorted their voice.

Tov extended her right hand and the segyein placed a pair of wireless earbuds in her palm.

“The earbuds my colleague has given you will prevent the submersion liquid from getting into your ear canals. Go ahead and put them in.” Yakun said over the speaker.

So they are going to fill this tank up with something. She thought as she followed the instructions.

They were a snug fit, blocking out most of the sound around her.

“They’ll also allow me to give you further instructions.” She heard Yakun say from the earbuds. “My colleague also has a tablet with a selection of music for you to listen to as we put you under. Your choice, of course.”

A tablet was extended to her with a list of different music genres and instruments.

Tov’s eyes caught on one instrument in particular.

Her heart stuttered.

Before she could hesitate or talk herself out of it, Tov made her decision.

“Harp music?” Yakun hummed. “What a lovely choice. Such a beautiful instrument.”

She didn’t respond, instead choosing to focus on the gentle swell of the music.

The piece sounded vaguely familiar.

Maybe Tallis had played it during a talent show one year?

Yakun’s voice scattered her thoughts, “Stand on the small dais in the center of the chamber with your hands clasped together in front of you.”

Tov did as she was told.

Her hands were cuffed with a device similar to a pet-human collar, as were her feet.

Both sets of cuffs were anchored to the metal grates on the floor by long cords.

One of the segyein tied her braids together and weighed them down with something heavy.

A mask was placed over her nose and mouth.

The windows in the tank were one-way glass, allowing Tov to see her reflection.

Despite how much Season 39 had changed her, she didn’t look much different.

The dark circles under her eyes were more pronounced from her fitful attempts at sleeping.

She hadn’t put the silver clips back in her hair since they were taken out for Round 30.

Everything else was unchanged.

All of the damage was internal.

Emotional.

Psychological.

Invisible to the naked eye.

No one could tell anything was wrong when she was smiling for the cameras.

Once the segyein researchers left the chamber and sealed the doors shut, Yakun spoke again.

“Alright Tov, all of our preparations are complete. I’m going to administer the aerosolized sedative now.”

Tov relaxed her shoulders as best she could and nodded.

The sedative hissed as it entered her mask, filling her nose and mouth.

It smelled… like home?

Delicate. Slightly sweet and floral.

It smelled like the clematis flowers that grew in Anakt Garden.

Is Anakt Garden home?

Tov’s head started to feel light. Her eyelids grew heavy.

Fluid rushed into the chamber through vents near the floor. It was warm, like the touch of another human, with a blueish tint; more viscous than water.

“The submersion liquid is starting to fill the tank, but don’t panic. All I need you to do is take deep, steady breaths.” Yakun sounded further away than before.

She closed her eyes and steadied her breathing, letting the sound of the harp lull her to sleep.

In...

Tov breathed in.

...and out.

Tov breathed out.

In...

Tov breathed in.

...and out.

Tov breathed out.

In...

Tov breathed in.

...and out.

Tov breathed out.

“That’s perfect, Tov. Keep going.”

Keep going…

Keep going…

Keep going…

.

.

.

.

.

.

“Tov? Are you listening?”

————————————————————

First Tov log of 2025 and I already have her behind enemy lines…

But I really wanted her to end up at AREPH headquarters somehow and this was the best way to do it.

I drew heavy inspiration for the style/architecture of the AREPH building from The Oldest House, the setting of Remedy Entertainment’s game Control (my beloved). Specifically the Research Sector (references here and here).

Also! This is Tov’s 39th log entry!! 🥳

“39… like from season…” - @apple8ees

Consider this the beginning of a new arc for Tov! We’re just getting started!!

Lark belongs to @kamersona.

Daiki belongs to @daiki1k.

Himei, Tallis, Yakun, and the AREPH belong to @lookatmysillies.

Solei belongs to @solei-eclipse.

Dian belongs to @imperfectnothing.

Cirrus belongs to @cirrusoftheclouds.

Tagging: @nottoonedin @alien-til-i-stage @chevalperd @apriciticreveries @neverforgetyou @verdantlights @billwasnot @starry-skiez @4listr @friedclownshrimp @awaggaa (hi everyone 👋)

[kirby-the-gorb]

[tf2vnthingy]

Devlog 1 - Names, References and Revisions

Today's agenda: The name of the game!

What should I name the game? Give me all of your wackiest suggestions and I'll make a poll to see which does best! Just anything that you'd like to see in a TF2 vn. (If anyone could possibly, maybe, want to volunteer in helping/proofreading the current drafts, that'd be awesome!!)

Story

As I write this, I am currently within the 3rd draft/revision of the beginning of the game. I'm a bit conflicted on how to start it. I'm jumping between this being a one week experience for the MC to show how short Ms Pauling's vacation is OR the idea that this is the last week of the internship and you're on your way to say goodbye.

The middlest parts are the easiest to write as they're rather independent from each other. The endings are already fully conceptualized but that's classified, no matter how much I wanna info dump about it!!

Designs/Art

My friend is currently helping out with the project! He's going to be in charge of the backgrounds and other assets in exchange for me helping with his commissions lol! For now, I've been drawing sketches of poses and figuring out which poses work best through reference gathering.

These would work for Sniper and Spy, maybe.

Coding

This part is the trickiest since I don't have my laptop with me for another week or so. But, for now, I'm learning through basic python tutorials and implementing a lot of the script in Twinery.org to keep track of the branching paths. I do intend on using Ren'py for development.

This is mostly a bunch of dialogue because I refuse to write actual lengthy descriptions for a DRAFT...... (shush, I barely even started)

[rosainta]

Team Fortress 2: 12 Flash Fiction Excerpts

('ms pauling' by makani on DeviantArt: https://www.deviantart.com/makani/art/ms-pauling-208768568)

(Author's Notes (A/N) at the end. For now, enjoy these slices of TF2 writing cake, baked with the batter of my mind!) * * *

1 "The Runner's a Fool."

[Written 10-3-2024]

Scout’s heart was bursting as he ran through the underbrush.

He didn’t look back; he couldn’t. Not after what he saw. If he had known sooner, he might not have spent so much energy trying to woo her...

Maybe he wouldn’t have made such a fool of himself.

2 "Player of The Heart."

[Written 10-3-2024]

“Fine, one more time”, he grumbled.

Pauling gleamed as she turned to the tape player. Changing the song to something more romantic, she hummed along and placed herself into his arms. They began to sway with the music.

Sniper felt his heart racing, but his thoughts raced quicker.

He wondered: would the one he really loved be into this too?

3 "Long Overdue."

[Written 10-3-2024]

Spy knew what he had to do.

He sat down next to the crying boy, gently putting a hand on his back. “Screw off!” the younger yelled, pushing him away.

Seeing him like this broke him; it did every time. But he took a deep breath and said what he should have all those years ago:

“I am sorry, Scout.”

4 "What Happens if You Feed the Machine? (Or In This Case, Water It?)"

[Written 10-3-2024]

“Yer no fun, lad!”

“Come on now, you know how I’ve been goin’ dry...”

“What’s one bottle a’ scrumpy goin’ to do to you?”

“Well, let’s see here. How many eyeballs o’ yours do my teleporters teleport per use?”

“Er, one.”

“Well, expect that to be one less the next time ‘round, pardner.”

He chuckled, and in an instant, he gulped it all down.

5 "Soldier's Solace."

[Written 11-3-2024]

Soldier stared at the grand moon from the roof of the base.

After the day’s fighting and bread teleporting, the other mercenaries were off to bed. But Soldier remained, smiling contentedly from under his helmet without another care in the world.

Somehow, he knew that right then and for as long as he dreamed, everything would be alright.

6 "Буквы говорят о любви."

[Written 12-3-2024]

If Heavy learned one thing in all his years of studying Russian literature, it was that writing wasn’t something you did; it was something you became.

So, picking up the ink pen, he let his hand go and embodied with all he had what meant most to him.

“It is time I tell you, Doktor.”

7 "Like The Warmth of a Fireplace."

[Written 13-3-2024]

Pyro looked at Engineer as a child does a Mall Santa, clapping. “Huddah, huddah!”

“Okay, one more, just for you.”

The technician took a deep breath and began to strum on the old guitar, his low voice singing a song of pink skies. Pyro swayed to the beat in bliss.

And, with every hum, the two grew closer.

8 "A Smile Means A Million Words, That Is Until You Speak."

[Written 14-3-2024]

Scout liked sketching.

While words weren’t his forte, art allowed him to express what he felt but could never say. He licked his lips, furrowed his eyebrows, and furiously scratched at the page with a pencil. Every detail, every form-- they had to be perfect.

When he was done, he proudly smiled at his creation.

And it smiled back.

BONUS!

As he admired his creation, he didn’t notice Sniper approaching him.

“And just what are you scribblin' off today, mate?”

Scout snapped around, flustered. He wasn't expecting company, and especially not from him.

“A-ah, hey, Snipes!", he blurted out. "It's nothing, really. Just another drawing of Spy screwin’ those... stupid French bread swords, whatever ya' call 'em.”

As he stammered an excuse, his face slowly turning red, he didn’t realize that his creation's rough, sketched face-- a picture of the marksman himself!-- was peaking through the corner of the sketchbook in the crook of his arm. Sniper paused for a moment as he stared at the work in awe, its own happily gazing back at him. Then, snapping out of his trance, he wordlessly turned back to smile at the younger man.

“You’ve got some talent, kid," he said, softly. "Please, don’t waste it.”

Then, quick as he came, he ambled away.

Scout was left standing, bewildered, and admittedly a bit confused, and he slowly turned back to look back at his drawing.

He traced the rough face of the man, looking wistfully with a tinge of giddiness in his eyes.

“If only you knew...", he whispered to himself without thinking. "Maybe then I could draw you like one of my French girls.”

Then, upon realizing the stupidity of his own remark (and of its disgusting, Spy-related... Frenchness), he immediately gagged.

“Ew, crap, no!”

Somewhere in the distance, Spy instinctively rolled his eyes.

9 "I Feel Olive!"

[Written 15-3-2024]

Medic pinched his nose, a low groan rumbling from him.

"What is wrong, Doktor? You seem stressed", Heavy asked, concernedly lifting his nose from his book.

Medic turned to him, tired eyes smiling weakly. "Ah, it iz nothing. Just... ze dull, useless legal documents. You know, as per usual."

"Well, if it makes Medic feel any better, Heavy ran out of olive for sandvich, so eating it was practically useless! I could not even digest it without big frown", he said, frowning in turn.

He grumbled, continuing, "What Heavy means to say is... you are not alone in your troubles."

Medic paused for a bit, before laughing and grinning back at the giant. He was grateful for this goofy big old man.

"Oh, you alvays know what to say, Heavy. Come on, let us escape this prison of an office and find you that olive. I am getting quite hungry and ze papers can wait, after all!"

10 "Off-Target."

[Written 29-3-2024]

Scout's mind just. couldn't. think.

His head was jumbled, a puzzle with the pieces too lost in the messy maze of his brain ever to solve. He wished he could crack open his skull like he did the BLUs on the field; maybe that would knock some sense into him.

He really needed to focus. Sniper always did.

So, why couldn't he?

11 "Our Paths Shall Cross Again."

[Written 4-4-2024]

It pained him to see her like this.

So, for the first time in his life, he put his pride aside and took one last glance at the sleeping lady before leaving the room.

Scout wished he could stay all night and marvel at her familiar, sheer beauty, even as she slept so frail. But he knew what she needed most was not him, but help.

Who knew what she went through those 2 years?

He resigned himself to the couch, closing his eyes. His affections for Miss Pauling would have to wait, as they always did, but he was fine with that.

She was safe, and that’s what mattered most to him.

12 "Guess Who's Up For Surgery?"

[Written 6-4-2024]

Medic was practically laughing with joy! Or, in his peculiar case, cackling maniacally.

Ah, it was of no matter— the doctor was filled to the brim with inspiration! So many projects to start and bodies to stitch; oh, what a wonderful feeling!

Heavy smiled as he watched the doctor go about his merry way.

Sure, when he was in this mood, that likely meant imminent danger for all those around him (they’d be his newest experiment, no doubt), but seeing him happy always made Heavy’s heart feel a little lighter.

So, as the doctor bounced up to him with his newest rambling, he didn’t protest!

* * *

Author's Notes: Over the past weeks, I've been working on being more spontaneous in my writing—no planning, just writing with the flow! And what better way to do that than to write flash fiction about my favourite fandom? (Plus, I have been practically absent here (post-wise) for, what, months? So why not use this as an excuse to share them with you? Ehehe... Okay, let's forget I said anything; moving on!) Flash fiction, with its creative liberties and curt nature, is an excellent medium (not forgetting to mention the fact it's a disgracefully UNDERRATED form of media!) that inspires me to write because it sort of... brutally invalidates any excuse of author's block I have... since it is literally spilling the words from your conscience into text WITHOUT the worry of length (ah! My greatest enemies...). Plus, it is... sort of, maybe, kinda addicting because it's just so freakishly simple, and the more you do it, the more productive you'll be and feel! Isn't that wonderful? (It could even be a drug! Er, well, a good one... wait, is there even a thing as a good drug? Ah- nevermind.) Anyway, if you're struggling with author's block, I'd heavily recommend trying it. Of course, it may not work for everyone (and I am not here to legally endorse this like a paid sponsor!) but it's still worth a shot if you haven't yet already. And hey, if it doesn't, you can feel free to blame me for the waste of time! Don't worry, I won't mind. Before we go on, I have to take this moment now to thank the one sweet old woman (whom I've unfortunately forgotten the name of) who first taught me about it a few years back during a summer writing course. She taught me much about what I know and love today, so I owe this and much of my writing happiness and technique to her! Thank you, lady. May you continue to write on!! Anyhow, to give you more context, these are all excerpts taken from a private account (but not a secret one! It's out there... somewhere...) of mine, edited for quality purposes and also because a few of the original excerpts bugged me due to their... well, innate cringiness. Hopefully, there's less of it now, but I wouldn't count on my eradicating it as it seems that cringe is just a part of my habitual writing style (I am sorry to disappoint, unnamed woman from the course... I have failed you). I hope that at least is is bearable enough for you to read. However, if not, I offer you my greatest condolences. If you'd like some bleach for your eyes, I have that too. You can also tell by the number of Speeding Bullet and Red Oktoberfest excerpts that I was... in quite the shipping mood for some of them. So, if that doesn't bug you, feel free to indulge yourselves in these characters as I obsessively have over the course of writing these!! It would be my pleasure to offer that liberty to you (and perhaps, shamelessly to myself as well, ahaha..), so please, go ahead. Anyway, that's all of the random blurbs I have to ramble on about today. Thank you for reading- or skimming, at the very least- and please have a marvellous day, pally~!

~ Rosain Quivan

[pepsicoughdrops]

yeeaahh whatever closes my eyes

(he/it)

(click for better quality/individuals under cut)

[artificise]

"Becoming a member of the High Court instructs its acolytes in many fields," Artificer spoke, the blue holographic screen projected from her wristband tearing every so often with pixelated hiccups; coaxing a small hum from the woman as she typed. The illuminated keyboard accenting the hologram let out soft beeping sounds with every type; clearly another document that she would put either into the backlog to finish later. "I'm well equipped for medical checkups, as Seeker is currently below."

"You remember the basics, yes?" the Artificer spoke, voice characteristically flat as the display disappeared, but carrying a certain warmth and gentleness with each word spoken- better to talk him through it step by step rather than rush it and possibly scare him; considering the power he retained in his body, such an incident would be nothing short of catastrophic.

As Viend took a few moments to think, elongated clawed fingers tapping against smooth hollow metal before he hummed, the woman let out a relieved exhale. "I promise you that the procedures haven't changed much since the days of the Contact Light- though, I would like to be more thorough to understand your bodily composition after your.. unfortunate, affliction. If you feel uncomfortable at any point, do not hesitate to let me know."

"【Mm.」"

"Then, we should start slow."

Opening a drawer and retrieving a stethoscope-like device, the Artificer connected the auxiliary to her helmet port before placing the flat side upon Viend's chest; pale brows etching underneath her visage at the lack of sound; further gliding across his chest; ridged and scarred in places where his armor had welded to his flesh and become one with his form, only proved a further lack of results in her search.

"Are.. you breathing, at all?"

"『...can??t. Lungs- don'?t wor??k.】"

"...Interesting.."

The subtle sounds of shifting were clear, showing that her medical device had not broken, and yet.. the repetitive deep thump of a consistent heartbeat remained ever elusive, and any sign of breathing was absent.

Within his chest cavity was.. nothing, but silence.