#my doctor not two months ago told me not to do heat

[yeasty-boy]

Damn it just hit me that I have a two hour time difference between me and my home

[wastefulreverie]

“no one has brown eyes in amity park”

The DMV just outside of Amity Park was a small, red-bricked building with poor air conditioning and a waiting room full of broken chairs. Eva stood by the wall, stiff, waiting with her uncle for the results of her driver's permit test. After almost twenty minutes, the woman at the counter called her name and she followed her uncle with bated breath.

Oh God, what if she didn't pass? Then she would have to wait and take it again and she wouldn't be able to get her license when she turned sixteen and she'd be the last of the A-Listers to drive and—!

"You passed," the woman said. "You were one point from failing."

Her uncle clapped her on the back. "See, I told you it would be fine."

The woman at the counter began entering in more information into the computer, having her sign a few papers here and there. She paused on the question about organ donation—sending a pang through her heart. It hadn’t been more than three months since her mom passed. Died on the list for a new liver.

Her uncle’s eyes softened in understanding. “Eva, you don’t have to—”

“Yes,” she hissed. “Yes. I’ll do it.”

The rest of the questions were standard.

"Height?"

"Five-four."

"Weight?"

"One-hundred fifty."

"Eye color?"

"Brown."

The woman stopped typing and looked up from the screen. She met Eva’s gaze with her own light teal eyes.

"Pardon?"

"I have brown eyes?"

"What, so you wear colored contacts?"

"Uh, no. My natural eyes are brown. The most common eye color?"

The woman blinked a few times before turning back to the keyboard. She squinted at the screen, a little put off.

"How strange," she murmured. "Brown eyes."

Later, she left the DMV with a temporary paper driver's permit in her wallet. Her hair was frizzier than she'd like because of the heat and her pupils were constricted from the camera flash, almost lost to her caramel-colored irises.

—

Her uncle needed his eyes dilated. She couldn’t remember what for, but she was more than eager to get more experience behind the wheel.

She found a chair near the corner of the waiting room and settled down with her phone.

One of the optometrists walked through the waiting room and stopped in front of her. His brow furrowed in confusion.

Had something gone wrong with the dilation? How did someone mess that up?

“Um,” he said, “I couldn’t help but notice your eyes.”

She raised a brow. “Aren’t you an eye doctor?”

“Yes. Well, I mean—” he stopped “—I noticed your eye color. It’s peculiar. Is it real?”

“You’re asking if my brown eyes are real?” she said slowly. It wasn’t the first time she’d gotten a comment like that in Amity Park and it was starting to weird her out. No one in her old town had spared a second thought about her eyes. “Yeah. They’re real.”

He paled. “I’m sorry if that was a rude question. I just, I’ve been working here for almost two decades now. I don’t see many people with brown eyes.”

“How’s that? It’s the most common eye color.”

His lips formed a straight line. “Maybe outside. Amity Park is different, though. I had a patient eight—maybe nine—years ago. He moved here from Vermont. His eyes were brown too, the first time he came in for an appointment. I saw him a year after that, and his eyes had faded to hazel green.”

“And this was an adult?”

He nodded. “The strangest part was that he didn’t remember. Insisted his eyes had always been hazel green. Spooked out all of us.”

“I just moved here a few months ago,” she admitted, a little shaken. “That won’t happen to me, will it?”

The optometrist shrugged. “Stranger things have happened in Amity Park.”

His phone went off and he fumbled for it, swearing.

“I’m sorry, I have to take this.”

He ran out of the waiting room, giving Eva far more than she would like to think about.

—

On the morning of her sixteenth birthday, Eva’s uncle let her drive them both to the DMV. They got breakfast on the way there, sharing fast food breakfast sandwiches in the parking lot.

When it came to the actual driving test, she passed with flying colors. She adjusted her mirrors and her seat, buckled up, drove a circle around the DMV, checked her blind spot before she merged lanes, and showed the instructor she could parallel park.

When she went inside to officialize her license—her actual, full-fledged driver’s license!—the woman at the counter confirmed all her information. She’d gained an inch in the past half-year and she insisted she was still the same weight, even though she was a good five pounds heavier. Although, what confused her was her eye color.

She frowned at the “BRN” stamped on her permit.

“My eyes are green, though.”

The woman at the counter hummed. “Must be an error. I’ll change it.”

“Hm. Yeah,” Eva eyed her photo from her learner’s permit on the counter, bright green eyes and all, “don’t know how I didn’t notice it before.”

[insom-nom-nom-niatic]

Female reader x Troy Otto after he "died" the reader was the one who stabbed him after he got to grabby you her she stabs with his knife and ran off she the only doctor so she valuable to the group he would also like his knife back. Maybe after a couple month he finds her and I would like some choking but anything would good

SORRY IT TOOK FOREVER!!! I hope you enjoy it.

CHARACTERS: Troy Otto X Fem Reader (third person for some reason cause that's what happened)

WARNINGS: It's made for FTWD so you should know the basics. +SMUT (read at your own risk. I'm nobody's mom) +Choking +Somewhat past possible attempt at r**e but he didn't didn't and he'd have stopped.

“Turns out being stabbed a second time hurts more than the first.”

“Good. I meant for it to hurt.” Her voice cut through the air like his knife did as it cut through his muscle. Her features showed no sign of surrender or fear, only sincerity in her words as the torch flame flickered their shadows on the cement walls. 

Troy raised both hands in surrender, his eyes glancing down to the same knife once stained with his own blood and back into her eyes. His shoulders tensed under his black jacket as her knuckles faded to a paler color gripping the handle of the sharp blade tighter. She had no reason to trust Troy after the last meeting the two had, yet, looking at the man out of his element and with no one around to make him feel taller than he already was, there was a certain chord he hit somewhere in her stomach. She didn’t feel that she was in danger, rather and oddly the opposite.

“Maybe it hurt a bit more because of who it came from.” He stood still as a tree, looking back to the woman through his eyelashes subconsciously. He was here on a mission to bring her back, but seeing her now and the life she’s had since that day months ago made a pit in his stomach open and swallow his heart whole. 

It had been 6 months give or take since she fled. Fled into the cold, rainy night unsure of what terrors where beyond the small compound. But she had to go, at least that’s what her body told her to do in the moment, there was no turning back. It took about a month for her to miss what she had. A roof over head, food and water, and most of al the protection that one Mister Otto provided. 

Ever since day 1 of finding the group, back when there was only a few of them, she could always feel something different with Troy than with any of the other men or women. He looked at her different. Talked to her different. He acted, well, gentler with her than anyone else even as the group grew to more than a few dozen. He told her on multiple occasions how they all needed her… how he needed her. 

He said that same thing the night everything changed. 

“You didn’t listen and forced my hand, Troy. Do you think I like starving out here on my own? I couldn’t come back and deal with any possibilities of YOU.” 

Ouch. Troy felt her words like a punch in the jugular. His eyes couldn’t hide the wince of pain he felt as his blue and white orbs fell to the ground at her boots astrown with holes. He thought back to that night, a night that has haunted him since. The look in her eyes when he felt the searing heat of his own blade slicing his flesh open. The apprehension that was once in her eyes now flickered with rage as she looked directly into his one good eye, pulling the blade back with force and bolting out the door, leaving his howls of pain and his own anger behind her. 

She left him alone. A nightmare he had only ever shared with her. 

“I know,” Troy’s entire expression fell like the edges of his lips. Her grip on the blade loosened as he continued. 

“I have regretted that night since, regretted what I tried to do and-” his eyes caught ahold of hers, both stomachs dropping at the same time before he continued. “-not listening to you. All those times that I told you that the group needed you, I wasn’t lying. They need you more than they need me so if that’s what it takes then-” 

“You’re going to leave for me to come back?” She cut Troy off mid sentence, shocking them both. The grin pulling at the ends of his lips to her question secured the answer both knew, but Troy was honestly questioning if he would do as he said for her. 

“Is that really what you want, darling?”

“No, no, no, no. Don’t you call me that, Troy.”  His voice changed back to the Troy she knew, the Troy that made her so irritated and yet welcomed and needed. His little pet name she only ever heard him reserve for her. She hated how much she loved it, but now was not the time for his little mind games. 

“Look-” Troy lowered his hands, resting both comfortably on his hips with his head rolling back in a stretch before meeting her gaze again. “-I know where you’re at now so the option is to come back with me willingly now or I’ll carry you kicking and screaming and the walkers can pick us both off together then leaving the group without a doctor or a leader.” 

The look he gave was unfaultering even through his bluff. She knew Troy wouldn’t force her to accompany him if she didn’t want to, and looking around the small cement room she didn’t have many reasons to NOT want to go back. But she knew if she didn’t go now, he’d end up sending a large enough group to her coordinates that she’d have to leave. It was a decision of eating roadkill for another week or not, and the growing smirk on the brunette's face solidified the answer. 

“You’re not getting your knife back.” 

“Oh c’mon!” She returned the smirk, sliding the sharp, freezing blade into the back of her jeans whilst kicking dirt on the smoldering fire, dimming the light in the room to the single lantern behind the tall brunette. 

A pit in her stomach arose, looking back at the small dug out she called home for the last few months before carrying on behind the footsteps of Troy Otto.

Her nuisance.

Her monster.

Her torment.

Her protector.

And possibly, her savior.  

As night ran into day, both she and Troy’s speed wavered. His footsteps lagged with each step whilst her hands pulled her weight forward tree after tree, both too stubborn to say it was time for a rest. 

Suddenly, a low growl came from the ditch 5 feet from their left. One growl turned into 5 moans, turned into 10 grunts and so on. Both stopped in their steps, hearing the rumbling below the dirt embankment grow with each step they took. 

Sharing a glance, She pushed Troy’s shoulder towards the sound, egging him to go see what they are facing. 

Begrudgingly, Troy cautiously snuck to the edge of the embankment, peering over for a heartbeat or two before a few large footsteps brought him back to her. His hands resting on her upper arms, somehow soothing, while his eye searched the surroundings opposite from the sounds. 

“C’mon, this way,” Troy whispered into her ear before pulling one hand along behind his back. She didn’t pull away, didn’t even notice what he’d done until the cold recaptured her skin moments later. 

As the sun set on another night somehow still breathing, she watched as Troy set traps surrounding the small camp you both had made within only a few good minutes. He swore he would stay awake throughout the night, keeping watch, and yet he paced the perimeter around the small camp fire you’d made, placing leaves and anything that would alert to movement around. 

As he finally sat opposite of her, she couldn’t helo the smile that arose her lips. 

“What?” Troy asked, his cheeks heating from within. That look, the look he’d only ever felt from her made his stomach ache with a hunger he’d only felt a handful of times. He rose to his feet once more, turning to hide the flush he knew she’d be able to see on his skin. 

“Oh c’mon, Troy. Don’t be like that!” Her tone changed to playful and open, like she once was with  him. Glancing down at her shivering fingers, the realization set in. She hadn’t felt this way, hadn’t sounded like that, since she’d been in his company. And even then, it was only ever in HIS company. 

“Come sit. Please?” 

A large breath left Troy’s chest, battling his own heart and mind was something he was used to but having her here again made his whole body numb. He finally obliged, turning on a heel and padding his large footsteps ever softly on the dirt towards her. Looking around one more time for any signs of the deead, or worst any living, before taking a seat beside her. His nose once again thanking him for the fire light in the dense cold. 

“You saved my ass back there,” Her words were soft, sincere. “So thank you, I guess. If it was just me again I probably would have been toast.” 

“You would have been fine, I’m sure.” Troy played with the scar on the back of his left palm. His right thumb digging into the rough scales of skin, the heat she gave off next to him nearly matched that of the fires. It felt good, warm. Yet, he the uneasy feeling was unwavering. 

“You‘ve known that all this-” she gestured to their surroundings. “-This was never MY strong suit. I patch up the people that are good at this kind of thing. People like YOU.” 

She earned a chuckle from the brunette, his shoulders shaking slightly bringing his eyes back up to meet the fires dancing flames. 

“I suppose you always did do a pretty decent job at fixing me up.”

“DECENT?! Oh, I did a whole hell of a lot better than decent with the stitches in your bicep, or your calf, or your left, and don’t forget about the right pec. I bet you can’t even tell you ever were wounded.” 

“You didn’t do a very good job on my thigh-” Troy stopped after that one word. He shouldn’t have said it, he shouldn't have brought it up. Dead silence fell between the two, not even the crickets had the guts to make a sound. 

“I made sure to not hit your femoral vein if that’s any consolation.” Her voice was that of a mouse. So quiet that Troy wasn’t sure if he had merely imagined it. Until he glanced slowly in her direction, catching that look of shame she had only shown once or twice, making his frown shift. 

He wanted to give her a side eye, cautionary and intense, but he had decided to sit on her right which meant his side eye had to be a full look over for his good eye to catch the way she sucked in air through gritted teeth.

Smooth Troy, very smooth. 

He felt her weight shift a tad, looking over to see her body in a full shiver before trying to hide it again. He rolled his jacket off his broad shoulders, catching the back and draping the hefty coat around her. The look she gave him didn’t need words, as he gave a half smile and turned back towards the glowing flames. 

What seemed like hours had passed in silence, comfortable silence, before Troy felt her weight lean into his side. His head swiveled in her direction, his breath caught in his throat when he felt the closeness of their faces in the dimming light. 

She didn’t turn away this time when he gave into his impulse. His flesh melting with her own. He never fully understood how humans had the ability to somehow find their partner’s lips in the dark until that moment when everything seemed to click. 

Neither one was expecting this, rather the opposite. She was expecting to not live to see their group again and he’d figured she was going to end him with his own knife one night in his sleep. But as life has it, something in their fate changed. 

Feeling his warmth only inches from her, she caved. Pressing her weight into him in a full kiss, her eyes drifting closed taking in his lips, his scent, his touch. Both grasping for skin as they weaved their lips together, his tongue nudging at her bottom lip while his hands roamed her body.. 

A sudden pressure was released from her waste band. Cool air drifting over exposed skin as Troy’s lips curved against the pulse of her neck. His chest wavered with a deep chuckle as his head fell backwards with a toothy grin in a croak of laughter. 

“This is mine now,” Troy waved his knife in the air above the two, like a child finally getting back their favorite toy. “Well... again.”

Sitting back on her elbows, the woman shook her head slowly, unable to help the grin growing on her features. He was such a literal pain in the ass but when he was like this, when he wasn’t so serious and did that little giggle of his she couldn’t help but fall further down his rabbit hole. 

His eye caught hers again, shadows flickering in the movement of the flames at their feet as he curled one arm around her torso moving to hover over her form without ant loss of eye contact. He was afraid he’d see that fear in her irises again like the last time they were this close, but he caught submission, adoration, maybe some excitement instead. 

His body moved against hers, clothing against disheveled clothing causing friction against both their skin. She was sure he could feel the heat radiating through her body where his hips rolled against hers. His sweet moan filling her senses as his eye bore down on her. His eye grew dark, lustful, wanting more than just the friction of clothing. He wanted to warm her up in the cool dark night in more ways than just this. 

The small bite of her lip and a nod gave him all the leeway he needed. Not a second passed before his lips were suctioned back onto hers. His tongue forced its way through partially opened lips as his fingertips did the same to her waistband. She was in such a flurry she didn’t even realize where his hand had disappeared to until his lips traveled to her ear, whispering how wet she had become before a wave of heat ran up her spine, arching her back against his touch as his cold hand palmed her most sensitive bundle of nerves. 

Choking on air, she breathed deeply into the skin exposed on Troy’s neck above her. Her fingernails gripped the jean jacket covering his shoulders as he nipped little bites down her neck and onto her chest. His movements faltered as he glanced up, catching sight of the woman clenching her eyes closed, teeth gritted on her bottom lip sure to cause blood. Something about that aroused Troy further, quickening his hand free from her jeans and making short work at removing the slightly damp piece of clothing. 

Staring down at her form, Troy felt his member twitch, longing to be free from it’s confines. She wore a simple pair of blue panties that caressed her just right, barely covering her modesty from what he could see in the dimming fire light. Her thighs twitched under his gaze, her meat looking as delicious as the shy giggle that escaped her swollen lips. 

His gaze shifted up her body, taking note of every cut and bruise that covered it before locking gaze with her again. Her eyes had darkened as his did as he shrugged his light jacket off, throwing it towards a tree to their left. His white T-shirt following suit. 

From where she lay, she could see the bulge in Troy’s pants shiver with every movement she made beneath him. Her foot nudged his ass whilst he removed his shirt earning a throaty groan from the brunette between her legs. She scanned his body in the shadows, her gaze stopping on the last wound she cured. A large scar on his abdomen still ever present as a wave of his cries of pain fled like a stream through her ears. 

Troy saw the way her eyes changed, knowing she was occupied elsewhere in that pretty little mind. Clearing his throat, he regained her attention only to give her a little show taking off his jeans. He forgot she hadn’t seen the scar she herself gave him until the moment her eyes once again fell. Her fingers reached out, pulling her to sit in front of him as she ghosted her fingertips over the scaled skin. 

She sure did a good job leaving her mark. 

Troy gave her a moment, but no longer than that before his fingertips caressed her chin. His callouses rubbed her soft, cold skin raising her attention to look him in the eye. The smirk she was met with sent another shiver down her spine, this time accompanied by a hefty gulp and a new warmth dripping from her core. 

One hand dipped lower, finding her folds with ease, applying just enough pressure to earn a whimper from her as his other hand draped around her neck. With a catch in her breath, her eyes shot open with a smirk feeling his fingertips close around delicate skin. 

Her own fingers traced harder over the scales on his thigh but eventually gave in to his touch, leaning backward until her back once again met the cold, hard dirt. Her hands dug small scrapes through the pine needles cushioning around her. Troy’s grip on her throat didn’t relent as his other hand delved one digit, now warmed between the two, into her glistening core. With every pulse that clenched down on his finger, his own member reciprocated. 

The cold air around them was a welcomed element. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to resist her much longer as he rubbed his clothed cock on her inner thigh. 

He wanted her to need him. 

He waited for her to need him. 

He needed her to need him. 

As his name dripped from her lips, Troy couldn’t hold back any longer. He didn’t waste time undressing any further as he pulled his underwear down just enough to release his begging cock before replacing his finger with a much larger fulfillment. 

He watched as her eyes clenched shut, a single tear running from one corner of her eye glistening from the shallowly dancing flames. His grip on her neck released at the feeling of her nails raking down his bicep. Her touch melded with the sweet smell of her arousal and gasps of breaths, his thrusts unrelenting. Filling her to the brim over and over. Watching her face contort in ecstasy whilst he sucked in his bottom lip to keep from silent. The only thing he couldn’t muffle were the grunts and groans that escaped him and the sound of bet skin meeting wet skin with such force and need that would make even a nun blush. 

Troy felt her begin to spasm in an eruption of an orgasm. 

It was in her breathing. It was in her nails grazing his skin. It was in the way her body contracted around his cock. It was in the way she whispered sweet-nothings only he will ever know as she bit down on his shoulder, surely leaving yet another one of her marks on his skin. 

He knew he needed to pull out, his own release matching hers. But the way she felt, how she looked, the way she smelled and sounded filled his senses and all Troy could think about was painting those glorious, tight walls of her with his seed. It was a dangerous game they were playing, he knew that. 

And still he did as he pleased. 

His body fell atop hers. All strength leaving him in his release as he collapsed above her, limp dick still within her walls feeling every pulse her body made. 

Everything was silent, the world seemed to disappear as the two soaked up each others heat as the sweat balls rolled off each others skin and into the earth below. 

When the sun began to rise, shining brilliantly through the fog lifting from the tree tops, the pair shared a look. 

“We should get going I suppose. One more day to camp, right?”

Troy nodded silently, a small grin returning to his swollen lips as he chewed his tongue slightly. “I’ve been used to sleepless nights, but this one took a bit more out of me so keep it slow.” 

The woman giggled hopping to her feet and extending an open hand down to Troy, both fully knowing if he took it he'd pull them both down.

“Who knew you’d be such a little chatter box after intimacy, Mr. Otto. The sleeplessness wasn’t fully my fault I do recall.” 

Troy leaned his head back against the tree where both were once propped up on, a toothy smile adorn on his tired and satisfied face. His chest heaving with a silent laugh before shoeing her hand away with a grunt to his feet.   

[daidi-dragan-glas]

Gmornin Sunshines ☕☕

Sitting here waiting for time to go in for chemo infusion number 38, and figured I'd give an update for those that might be interested (plus I might tack on the weird dream I had last night 😜😂)

So, a month or so ago, my oncologist announced that I had maybe one or possibly two tumors left in my liver, but they are growing (almost doubling in size every month), but she thought I might be a candidate for a surgical intervention... So we set up the consults only to have the hepatic biliary (liver) surgeon tell me "..no, you have 5 to 7 tumors growing and not only are they spread all over you liver, but they are placed badly, so no, there's nothing we can do."... Was kind of a kick in the teeth, I had allowed myself to get quite excited to only be told nope.

So I started pushing the doctor even more than usual... "what else can we try, add to, fucking DO, to fight this?" And she finally said ok, the only other thing we might can do and send a letter and your records to the Mayo Clinic and see if they think there is something they can do, don't get your hopes up,, they will only take you on if they feel there's significant good they can do for you.

So, letter and records sent. And I got a call this past Friday evening on my way home from work. I have an appointment at the Mayo on July 16. 😁 (We will see what happens from there.)

...

So, the human body is an amazing machine, adapting constantly and trying it's best to keep you going... But I had a dream last night that all this chemo is essentially turning me into the quintessential human cockroach... Ya know, given the ability to survive the upcoming apocalyptic events we all seem to fear... My body is adapting to all the chemicals and poison being fed into it and making it such that I'll be able to breathe the nasty air and drink the poison water and enjoy the heat of the ration from the sun and the nuclear fallout, and I'll finally be able to enjoy peace and quiet since most of y'all will be gone! 😂🤣😂🤣😂🤣😂🤣😂🤣😂

[shotos-angelic-whore]

ONE

cw: cancer, swearing, bakugo has a mini panic attack, doctor talk (?), if I missed anything let me know

Staring at herself in the mirror, she repeats the words: you're beautiful, over and over; to try and convince herself to believe it.

"Hey," he says, leaning against the doorframe of the bathroom and knocking lightly on the door. "You shouldn't have to convince yourself that you're beautiful; you should already know that you are." He approaches her, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind and kissing her shoulder.

"I just haven't felt like it since shaving my head two months ago," she says, looking at him through the mirror.

"Well, I think you're beautiful—with or without hair," he smiles, kissing her cheek. “Plus, if you didn’t shave your head, it would’ve been more difficult for the surgeons.”

Her frown turns into a smile as his lips make contact with her cheek. "Thank you, Katsuki." she turns around in his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"I wanted to ask you something,” he says, looking down at her in awe.

"Ask away," she smiles.

"My class from UA has a ten year reunion coming up in about a month. And Kirishima is really pressing for me to attend. So I was wondering if you'd like to be my plus one?" he questions.

"And get to meet all your friends from high school, l'd love too!" she exclaims, placing a kiss on his lips.

"Good." he kisses back.

She pulls away from the embrace and jumps up and down in excitement. "This gives me an excuse to wear a fancy dress and a wig!”

“[Y/n], I’ve told you: I don’t have a problem being seen with you without a wig.” he says with sincerity.

“And I’ve told you, Katsuki: I don’t feel comfortable going places without a wig. I get weird looks and people tend to stare.” she pouts.

“If anyone gives you a hard time, I’ll blow them up,” he smiles at her.

“I’ll consider not wearing one,” she smiles in return. “But no promises,” she leans up and pecks his lips.

“I can deal with that,” he says as she pulls away and turns on the faucet in the tub, allowing the water to heat up before she starts getting undressed.

“Care to join me?” she smiles over her shoulder at her husband, knowing damn well he won’t say no.

“Of course!” he strips himself of his clothing, stepping into the tub of warm water and sitting down. She sits between his legs, her back against his chest. He places a kiss to the back of her shoulder blades, whispering a quiet ‘I love you’. To which she responds with: ‘I love you more’.

~~~~~

A week later, Katsuki returns home one night after patrol to find his wife passed out on the kitchen floor.

“[Y/N]!” He rushes to her side to see if she’s still breathing. He quickly calls an ambulance when he can’t get her to wake up. When the phone is picked up, he doesn’t give the receiver a chance to say anything before saying: “I got home to my wife passed out on the kitchen floor, I can’t get her to wake up!” His voice wavers as he pulls her head into his lap.

Feeling something wet and sticky on the scarf covering her head, he looks at his hand. Blood. “OK, breathe. What’s the address?” The lady questions.

He gives her the address and adds, “She hit her head pretty hard, she’s bleeding.” He can’t help the tears that fall free.

“Ok, there’s an ambulance on its way. What’s your name?” The lady says calmly.

“Katsuki Bakugo. My wife’s name is [Y/n].” He answers, looking at her face.

“Katsuki Baku-” the lady cuts herself off, but quickly regains composure after realizing Pro Hero Dynamight is calling because his wife passed out in the kitchen.

“Do you want to stay on the pho-” he hangs up, not wanting to deal with this phone lady being so calm.

He knows she has to be, but he can’t stand it. Paramedics rush into the house—Katsuki left it open—and quickly make their way to [Y/n]’s limp body.

“Sir, you need to let go of her so we can take care of her,” says the woman paramedic.

Katsuki looks up at her and nods. The paramedic gently takes [Y/n] out of Katsuki’s lap and gets her up and the gurney, checking vitals.

“Pulse is weak, but there.”

Another paramedic opens [Y/n]’s eyes and shines a light in them. “No response.”

The chatter amongst the rushing paramedics drown out as Katsuki stands in the kitchen staring at his hand covered in her blood. He’s had blood on his hands before; he is the number two Hero after all. But this was [Y/n]’s blood. His wife’s blood.

He suddenly finds himself struggling to breathe, the sound of his heartbeat behind his ears becoming too much. Everything becomes too much. The sirens of the ambulance and cop cars, the paramedics rushing around to help [Y/n], the lights in the kitchen, even the feeling of his clothes on his skin was too much.

“Sir,” the same paramedic from before looks into Katsuki’s eyes, waving her hand in front of his face. “Sir, it’s alright we’re gonna take care of her. Are you riding in the ambulance with her?” Katsuki only nods in response, not able to form words. “OK, come on,” she places a hand on his shoulder and leads him into ambulance, where [Y/n] is laying completely still on the gurney, a heart monitor beeping very slowly, and a male paramedic tending to her head wound.

Usually if someone other than [Y/n], or friends and family touches him, he’d pull away; but he can’t.

He steps up into the ambulance, sitting in the seat designated for the other person, and grabs his wife’s hand. Running his thumb over her wedding band, he whispers: “Stay with me, [Y/n], please.”

Once at the ER, the paramedics rush [Y/n] into the building.

“[Y/n] Bakugo. Female. 26 years old. Husband found her passed out on the kitchen floor when he got home. She’s got a wound on her head from the fall and her pulse is weak.” Says the male paramedic.

“OK, trauma room two.” Says a doctor, stopping Katsuki as he goes to follow. “I’m sorry, but you can’t go in there.”

Katsuki look at the doctor with tear filled eyes. “She had brain surgery two months ago. They took out her cancer.” He informs. “Please tell me it’s not back,” he pleads.

“It’s too soon to tell, we’ll get her to a CT and let you know. I’m Dr. Suzuki and I will personally keep you updated.” She nods. “Go ahead and make some calls to family and friends who you would want here, alright.” She says, following as the other doctors roll the bed [Y/n] is on out of the trauma room and into the main hospital.

copyright ©️ shotos-angelic-whore

masterlist • next

[dino-fart]

The Wendigo Forest | Chapter 1: We Meet Again

Summary | Preview | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Pairing: Strange Supreme X Female!Reader

Genre: Thriller, Action, Romance, Tragedy

A Sequel to Strawberry Blues

Summary: An old enemy of Doctor Strange has returned to the dimension where no magic or heroes exist. A dimension ripe for the picking. Nightmare soon discovers your connection to the dark Sorcerer Supreme. Will Nightmare finally get his revenge on Stephen? Will Stephen be able to make it in time to save you from the same fate that took his sister?

Based on the scrapped DSMOM concept provided by the awesome @luvsvpreme, here is the link to the post.

It had been two months since you last saw Stephen. Since that day, you couldn’t get him out of your head, you went out with your friends to festivals to see if you could find him. Unfortunately, you couldn’t spot him, so then you resorted to the internet. Your friend helped you look through different sites and ways to track him but with just his name and appearance, not much was found. You became nervous and sad that you were not able to find him until your friend suggested dating apps. 

You instantly began looking but couldn’t find him. Your friend nudged you further to at least go on a date, she told you that if you and Stephen were meant to be, the universe would find a way. So here you were on a Friday night, standing in front of the mirror. You put on a blue cocktail asymmetrical half-sleeve tulle dress. You checked yourself a few times, making different poses and trying to pick matching shoes. 

You finally settled for silver heels, and a silver clutch, and tied your hair in a half updo. You put your makeup on and put on red lipstick. The lipstick complimented the dress perfectly and you smiled at how you looked. You took a deep breath, headed out the door, and got into your car. Your date’s name was Kevin and he is a financial advisor and was super sweet during your text conversations. He chose a fancy restaurant and sent you a picture of his tuxedo. You were excited but you were nervous about how he would think about you. 

You stepped into the restaurant and found a booth table. The waiter set the menus down and got you a glass of water. You texted Kevin where you were and immediately looked up when you saw him come to the table. “Wow...You’re gorgeous.” Kevin smiled sweetly at you and sat across from you. 

“Thank you, you look good in a tux.” You smiled bashfully. 

The two of you began to talk about each other. You delved into your work and career. You stopped midway when you saw him yawn. “Sorry, long day at work.” Kevin apologized when he noticed your silence. 

“It’s okay, let’s talk about something else.” You smiled.

Kevin asked you about your hobbies and your love life. He liked hiking and loved sports, his most recent girlfriend was three months ago. When you asked why they break up, he stated she was too busy for him. That made you nervous. You told him about your hobbies and that it had been a while since your last relationship. “So what you’re super picky with your guys?” Kevin asked taking a sip of his champagne. 

“Shouldn’t everyone be picky?” You raised a brow.

“I mean, sure, but if you’re always picky, you’ll be alone.” 

“I guess...” 

“How many dates have you been on?” 

“Not many. Work is keeping me busy.” 

“I see...I hope it’s not rude to ask but...How far do you go on the first date?” Kevin eyed you, his gaze moving from your face to your breasts. 

You felt your cheeks heat up at his stare and shook your head, “Just a date. I like to take my time.” 

Kevin looked back at your face and nodded, “I respect that.” 

Did he though? You thought. “Excuse me, I’ll be right back.” You stood up and walked past the booth heading toward the bathroom. You sighed in frustration, this date was not going as expected. 

You made it to the bathroom and took a shaky deep breath and looked at yourself in the mirror. You saw tears beginning to form. 

Shit! 

You took another deep breath and took out a tissue to dab the tears away. You then texted your friend for advice on what to say to leave the date. She told you to stick it out and see if talking about sports might change the mood of the date. You rolled your eyes and decided to look up some opening sports conversation since you had no interest in it. You turned your phone off and out of the bathroom. 

When you came out of the bathroom and made your way to the booth. Along the way, you stopped and your eyes grew wide at what you saw. There was Kevin sitting at another table with a black-haired man, a blonde woman, and a brunette woman. He was laughing at their conversation and playing with the blonde woman’s hair. You pursed your lips in a thin line and stormed past the table, not wanting to cause a scene. 

But Kevin saw you and immediately got up and made his way back. You stopped when you got to your table and felt your heart skip a beat. At your table was a man in a tuxedo suit, you thought you’d never seen before. It was Stephen...Or maybe he looked like Stephen? You didn’t want to get too excited. The man looked up from the table and smiled sweetly. 

Yup. That was Stephen. 

“I’m so sorry for being late.” He said softly and you gave him a sad smile. He gestured for you to sit back in your spot and you did. You weren’t sure how to react or respond. Your heart was torn seeing him again. Your red lips parted to say something but you were interrupted when Kevin came to the table. 

“Hey sorry, she was a friend of mine...Oh...Guess you’re good, huh?” Kevin began to say then scoffed. 

“She is fine now, thank you.” Stephen glared at him. 

You looked down at the menu, trying to ignore everything. Stephen’s eyes flashed red as he stared at Kevin and Kevin didn’t say anything, he turned around and walked away. Stephen relaxed and looked back at you, his eyes only on you. “I’m so sorry...About...Disappearing.” 

“It’s okay.” You said, your voice cracked using all your strength not to cry, and hid your face in the menu. 

Stephen felt his heart ache to hear your voice crack and leaned over to gently pull the menu down. “Oh, darling...” He said seeing the tears in your eyes. 

“Sorry...Sorry, this night has just been...I don’t know...I’m sorry...I’m a mess.” You said over and over trying to stop the tears from falling. You set the menu down and stood up quickly. You rushed out of the restaurant, the tears not stopping.

 You made it to your car and opened your purse to find your keys. You felt hands on your shoulders and you were spun around. Your face was pulled to the person’s chest and arms were wrapped around you. “You’re not a mess. There is nothing to be sorry about.” The person said you quickly realized it was Stephen. You buried your face in his chest and sobbed softly. 

Stephen moved his hands to cup your face and his thumbs wiped your tears away, “Why don’t we go somewhere quiet and catch up, hm?” 

You nodded and pulled back to unlock your car. The two of you got in and you drove back to your house. 

You stepped into your home and kicked off your heels. Stephen stepped in right behind you and shut and locked your door. Stephen stepped toward you and pulled you close to him. He rested his hands on your hips and pressed his forehead against yours. “I missed you so much...” You said softly and moved your hands to gently cup his cheeks. 

“I’m so sorry darling,” Stephen whispered. 

You pulled back and gently pecked his cheek. Stephen turned his head to capture your lips in a slow and tender kiss. You kissed him back and wrapped your arms around his neck. Stephen pulled back slowly and smiled at you. “No more tears, I’m here now.” You nodded and smiled sweetly at him. He pulled you in for another deep kiss. 

You soon found yourself in your bedroom on the bed with your head resting on Stephen’s chest. You switched from your dress and makeup to a hoodie, sweatpants, and messy bun. Stephen had removed his tux jacket, and bow tie and rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt. His arms were wrapped around you and pressed kisses along your head. You closed your eyes and fell asleep. 

You two hadn’t caught up completely but right now you didn’t care. His scent, his words, and his affections comforted you. You fell into a deep sleep thanks to his magic. Stephen smiled softly, seeing your sleeping face. The hairs on the back of his neck raised and he turned around to see the tall being standing at the foot of the bed. 

“Watcher.” Stephen hissed. 

“Relax Strange...I am here to warn you.” The being said. 

“What now?” Stephen rolled his eyes. 

“About your affairs in this dimension. Don’t. Get comfortable. You will put her in danger.” The Watcher gestured to you. 

“Leave her alone.” Stephen held you tighter. 

“I’m just warning you, Stephen. I know your feelings for her are strong and I want you to be happy. But remember what happened in your own universe...And remember the lie you’re telling her.” The Watcher looked at the sorcerer. 

Stephen was quiet at that, he had no intention of revealing his identity to you. He stroked your hair back and gently pecked your forehead. 

“Be careful Stephen...” The Watcher then disappeared. 

Stephen brushed off the Watcher’s warning or tried to at least. His focus was on you and helping you sleep. Stephen rested his head on the pillow and stroked your hair softly as he closed his eyes. 

Meanwhile, a large black wolf appeared in an alleyway with red eyes. The canine raised his nose in the air and began to sniff. A growl escaped his lips and the animal bared his teeth. “Stephen Strange...” He growled. He had finally found the sorcerer’s scent. And after all these years...He can get his revenge. 

Tagging: @deepbatched, @vikingqueen28, @leonkennedyslefthand, @stewardofningishzida, @icytrickster17, @onlinecemetery, @marki-moo0, @absolute-not-original, @creamecafe, @scrubb, @nightingal3-tales, @alliethedaydreamer, @strangesthirdeye, @alexa-33, @zombiedixon89, @sunnsettee, @deliciousfestsalad, @kiaradaniell, @freyafriggafrey, @criticalroleobssedperson, @avengersfan25, @lunamoonbby, @androgynouspersonapricotfan, @foxcantswim, @namorkawaiiwife, @starkiller-queen, @kyuupidwrites, @luciamajer, @renatas10, @ayamenimthiriel, @gaiagurl05, @dipsylou, @pinkthick, @hansai, @andywinter16, @iambored24601, @3-cheese-tortellini, @cumbrbatchbenedict, @ironstrange1991, @aribas-stuff, @rianumochi, @vibaracal, @lordofthundersstuff, @princessdragon23, @stilinskiwinchester221B, @automaticcloudfart, @jekyllhydetrash, @sherl0ckholmes, @ilikedarkrai, @mavkaorlova, @blossom618, @320viada, @leins-stuff, @coldrunawaytastemaker, @nikstrange, @musicallover714, @dastard-bastard, @paperclippedmime, @luvsvpreme, @ironducke, @animeketsu-yander, @moonfighter1985, @cerene-ciderr, @xx-sonofabitch-xx, @lokiethar, @localmika, @byondtheveil, @wolfie-west, @doctorstrangeaskblog, @dreamxonxx, @tessieds, @starksbf, @lady-harvey, @thealleydog, @cemak

[marvel-stories33]

Bucky’s return - Bucky x enhanced!reader

*Credits to whoever created this gif*

Bucky Barnes x enhanced!reader

Summary: Bucky returns home from a long mission wounded. And the Reader is there to take care of him.

Warnings: Mentions of wounds

Author’s note:Hello!!!! my names is Ru and this is my first Fanfic I post here. It’s really short but I hope you enjoy it. All feedback is welcomed 💕 

P.D: English is not my first language

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It was late at night. My room was dark, the New York lights were the only thing illuminating the big room. Everything was calm and in peace except for me.

I’ve had been trying to fall sleep for the last two hours, but it had been impossible. I was  starting to accept my defeats when I heard a commotion outside, quickly I rose to my feet and made my way to the door to check what was all the noise about. As soon as I opened the door, I  crushed into Steve’s chest.

“Ouch… I’m sorry. You okay, Y/N?” Said Steve.

“Yeah, I’m fine. What’s all the noise about?” I asked

“Sam and Bucky are a few minutes away. I was about to get you. Come on.” 

My heart was beating fast as we ran down the corridor. I was so excited to see Bucky. Him and Sam had left about a month ago for a mission in Russia, originally the mission was only going to last for two weeks but because of complications they had to stay longer.

When we arrived at the Hangar, the Quinjet had already landed and the door was opening. Sam and Bucky stepped outside. Bucky had his arms around the other heroes shoulders while holding his right side with his hand.

“Hi, hon-“. He was cut by my bear hug. He let go of Sam and I felt his metal arm wrap around me.

“I missed you” I said, burying my face into his chest. After a few seconds, I pulled away and scanned him up and down for injuries. 

“What happened?” I said, while reaching for his side, I lifted his hand and saw a nasty gash.

“I’m okay, you should see the other guy” He said, to which I rolled my eyes. “One of the Hydra agents ambushed us and stabbed me, but I’ll live”

“Yeah, because you have me”said Sam chuckling

“I’m glad you were there, Sam, do you have any injuries?” I asked Sam

“Thank God for a second I thought you forgot my existence. No, I’m okay. Now go, you have your soldier all for you. Go play doctors or something” I gave him a look, but I smiled at him. He left Bucky’s side and went to talk with Steve.

As soon as he left I reached for Bucky’s arm and put it on my shoulder as we made our way to the elevator.

“I missed you too, doll” Said Bucky as we entered the elevator. He reached down and kissed the side of my face. I leaned my head on his shoulder while we went up.

The elevator ringed indicating that we were in our floor. We walked to our shared room.  

As soon as we entered I headed to the bathroom to grab a few towels and laid them  down on the bed.

“Take your shirt off and lay down” I told Bucky 

“Wow doll, you really missed me. Can get enough of me?” He smirked while pulling his shirt up.

“You wished. Come on, lay down” I said. 

I leaned down and examined Bucky’s injure.I grazed it with my finger and he whimpered.

“I’m sorry” I said, then I begin the process of getting into the zone in order to use my power. As soon as my hands started glowing I placed right on top of Bucky’s side and started the healing process,“This is going to take about 10 minutes”.  I told him.

“It’s alright, I love the view” He said while looking at me, I felt the heat rising to my cheeks. “What you been up to doll?”

“Not much, I did a lot of paperwork, I’ve been training and then I went home to check how everyone was doing.” I said while concentrating in the task at hand. “It’s starting to heal. Do you feel better?”

“Yes, I’m better now. Also helps that you are the nurse” He said before closing his eyes and resting for a bit.

———————————————————————————————————

“There, all done. It’s healed” I said as I washed off the sweat.Healing was so exhausting. As soon as he heard those words Bucky wasted no time in pulling me into his arms and embracing me. I returned the hug, he lifted my chin and crashed his lips into mine.

“I love you” He said as soon as we pulled apart from the kiss, still in each others arms.

“I love you too. How about we take a shower?” I said. He didn’t answer instead he carried me into the shower.

We entered the bathroom, and started undressing. We stared at each other while the water was heating up. “You are so beautiful” Said Bucky while stroking my arm. I looked at him and smiled. We entered the shower, and I started washing Bucky’s hair while he rested his head on my chest. His hands were resting on the sides of my hips, drawing random shapes. These were my favorite moments with Bucky, when he allowed himself to be vulnerable and letting someone take care of him. After I finished with his hair, he started washing my mine. Five minutes later we stepped out of the shower, and we started drying each other, as he was drying me off, he would place random kisses on my skin.

———————————————————————————————————

I was wearing only Bucky’s shirt and some panties when I entered the bed, ready to fall sleep in Bucky’s arms. He was shirtless and was wearing some basketball shorts. As soon as I entered, Bucky’s arms caged me. He kissed my neck.

“I missed this so much. It was really hard for my to sleep without you” I said while playing with his metal hand.

“I know it’s really hard for me to sleep without you either” He placed a kiss on my neck. We stayed silent for a few minutes.

“Bucky?”

“Mmmm”

“At what time do you have to get up tomorrow?”

“I have a briefing at eight, so I guess around seven.” He said

“Mmm” I thought for a second “I thought that maybe tomorrow we could go to the park and then have a picnic? What do you think?

“I would absolutely love too.”

“Perfect, it’s a date then” I said happily.

I shifted in Bucky’s arms and looked at him. 

We stared at each other for what felt like forever and then we crashed our lips together.

“I love you, Bucky”

“I love you too, Y/N”

“Now let’s get some sleep” I said, closing my eyes and laying on Bucky’s chest.

“ Yes, Doll” He said softly. 

[ficsforfundota]

Sam Winchester/Any Gender Reader/Dean Winchester -Omega Verse - Home Sick

—-

Sam and Dean paced as you whined in your sleep. You were their omega and you weren’t feeling well, it wasn’t heat, but it was something.

The three of you had been on the road for a month and a half. Sleeping in the impala and shitty motels.

“Sammy you’re the egg-head. What’s wrong with our mate?”

Sam shrugged as you cuddled into their flannels taking in their scent to ease your sickness. “I think (y/n) is just not feeling well.”

“I think we should get them to an omega specialist just to be sure, I know I usually hate doctors but I think we should.”

Sam bit his lip but nodded. Your papers while forged with fake names and addresses were fully up to date and they had marked you as theirs in various ways to ensure there was no chance the state could call you an unattended or unclaimed omega. Sam riffled through his satchel and pulled out the one thing they both found upsetting about omegan life.

Your collar.

Their names were etched onto the back, along with Bobby’s address, and your name was scrawled in fancy font across the front of the tag.

To them collars meant your choices were gone, that you belonged to them and didn’t get to be your own person. They had bonded you, you bore their bite marks across your scent glands and the junctions of your neck and shoulders. They had claimed you as theirs and they didn’t see a need for the collar unless you were in situations you had to be around general population, which was a lot in your line of work.

If you were being honest you’d gotten used to the collar, and it meant they owned you, but you obliged to their distaste of the collar and wore it when they bestowed it upon you.

In your sleeping state Sam got the collar around your neck. “Let’s go then.”

Dean nodded and started up Baby. You whined again in your sleep curling into yourself. Sam groaned seeing you look so sad.

They drove to the nearest Omega Hospital. Sam picked you up and carried you inside while Dean held the folder of your various omega files the many states required of you.

Undocumented omegas were illegal, and they refused to lose you to state laws. A demon or monster was better then that. As soon as you three entered the beta staff made their way towards your little family.

“What can we help you with?”

“Our omega, they’re not feeling well. Started a few days ago, got them pain pills, tried to knot to see if they just needed a fill, tried baths, massages. Sleep. They’re still acting off, we just wanted to see if the docs could figure anything out.” Sam replied laying you on a metal table. The paper crinkled as you were laid down.

“Names, and do you have their files?”

“I’m Sam Smith, this is my brother Dean Smith we share our omega. They’re name is (Y/N) Smith.

“Birth last name?”

“Winchester.” They lied.

The women nodded and jotted down information. Dean handed her the files and she began to look them over. All actual check ups, just with the fake last names for them and giving you theirs. Legally unmarried but with the bond marks you could take their last name.

Sam watched you curl into their flannels, that even in your sleeping state you refused to give up, he frowned when you whined.

“Room twelve, best if you both stay close. Clear to me they need your scent close.”

The two nodded, Sam picked you up once more and carried you towards the room. Laying you on a softer chair the paper still crinkling with any movement you made the boys waited with concern as you whined in your sleep.

The doctor stepped in and looked you over with a soft smile. “The names Dr. Strode but my friends call me Woody. What seems to be the matter?”

Sam explained what he told to the nurse once more. The doctor nodded and looked over your charts a few more times before he began to run the tests he could while you slept.

“What’s wrong doc?”

“See the funny thing is from what I can tell they’re fine, but answer me some questions.”

The boys nodded. “Anything.”

“How long have you three been bonded?”

“Eight years.” Sam replied quickly. “Courted for three.”

“When was their last heat?”

“A month ago.” Dean remarked with a glazed eye smile. “We helped (Y/N) through it.”

“Alright now, how’s their nesting been?”

“Well we travel a lot, (y/n) hasn’t really been able to have a regular nesting spot.”

“How long have you been traveling for?”

“This is the longest at one time, nearly a whole month. But we are used to traveling you don’t think that’s the problem do you?”

“If omegas can’t regularly nest they do get home sick. That may be it, or they’re just getting a common cold. Omegas are pretty hearty, they bounce back fast so you don’t often know they’re not feeling well till they get worse before they get better.” The two alphas nodded watching you roll slightly snuggling into their tops. “Now I see your omega is holding onto your clothes, have they been doing that for a long time?”

“Usually have something of ours on or with them, but at night (Y/N) sleeps with us. When our ‘mega does nest our clothes are usually a big part of it.”

“So it may be a nesting issue.”

“How do we remedy that when we are on long trips?”

“Designate the back seat for them to nest, or if you have a long term motel or hotel get two beds. One for (Y/N) to make a nest.” The softer turned around and grabbed a few pamphlets off the wall.

Traveling with omegas.

Nesting habits of omegas.

Ways to ensure omegas stay happy while missing home.

“These should help, read them over. Try to stop by home on occasion during your trips if you can or, if you know you can’t find a few things you can bring from home that are easy to travel with and allows them to get a sense of that security.”

The two alphas nodded. “Thank you.” Sam said picking you up happily kissing your sleeping frame. Dean shook the doctors hand and followed Sam out looking over the pamphlets.

“Says comfort food will also help, things that reminds the omega of home when we aren’t.” Dean muttered as he looked over the traveling pamphlet. “Our traveling can’t interfere with our love.”

“It never had before, probably just with the apocalypse and all security is better. I understand their struggling, and I feel it too. We just process it differently as alphas.”

Dean nodded leaning back to give you a kiss before he started the car back up again. He was just happy there wasn’t anything terribly wrong, they both loved you more then anything and you meant the world to them.

[talesofunlikelysapphicpairings]

Hozier's "Work Song" is so Doctor Superion coded, it might as well have been written for them. This is me trying to prove it.

The song was written from the perspective of a worker (someone who works for someone). Like a farmer, or a miner. From my understanding, this singing worker is struggling with life as taken from the 'pleading' and 'sentimental' connotations throughout the song. Maybe because of the working conditions or other situations, but this song is definitely from someone who is desperate to get their point across. They have understood that life is suffering, and suffering is the only constant in life; but with their beloved, it is a life worth living.

Putting this in the doctor superion context, I will exchange the worker with a soldier. Suzanne is a soldier who had been asked to lay her life down one too many times. This "Work Song" is her song for Jillian. (This is my opinion and I barely elaborate myself so stick with me.)

Here's Verse 1:

Boys workin' on empty

Is that the kinda way to face the burning heat?

I just think about my baby

I'm so full of love I could barely eat

There's nothing sweeter than my baby

I'd never want once from the cherry tree

'Cause my baby's sweet as can be

She give me toothaches just from kissin' me

The OCS had been given little to nothing during the war with Adriel. They had no clue who their allies were aside from themselves. They had no solid proof of who their enemies were, or clear vision what they were. They had no one to turn to, no one to ask for help. Yet, there was Michael. Then, Jillian.

They knew it was not ideal to face Adriel as small of a number as they have. Yet, they did "face the burning heat," as stated. Somehow, having one another was enough even though the 'boys' (them) worked with 'empty' (nothing). That included Jillian.

Again, this person for the soldier is more than enough. There is no need for a cherry, as sweet as it is, because the sweetness of her lover keeps her full. More than that, she gives her more even by doing little.

The Chorus can be taken as is.

When my time comes around

Lay me gently in the cold dark earth

No grave can hold my body down

I'll crawl home to her

This happened. When Suzanne was lying and Jillian was the only hold she has on the living, it might have been Ava who woke her up but we know Jillian is also one of the reasons she became alive. Fuck, Jillian was one of the reasons she stayed behind the first time (fuck the Arc), and on that second time (there was no need to stay). The chorus of the song is a testimony of the soldier's dedication and devotion to her love. And damn me if Suzanne does not have both for Jillian.

So, yes, it was Jillian who fretted over her medical apparatus to revive Suzanne. It was Jillian's hands who caressed Suzanne's hair and shoulder as they waited for the other warriors to come back. And it was probably Jillian who put Suzanne back to her feet to face the war once more.

Verse 2 goes like this:

Boys, when my baby found me

I was three days on a drunken sin

I woke with her walls around me

Nothin' in her room but an empty crib

And I was burnin' up a fever

I didn't care much how long I lived

But I swear I thought I dreamed her

She never asked me once about the wrong I did

When Jillian and Suzanne finally met (because the girls had probably told each of them about the other in some stories), the world is quite literally in shambles. As someone who served as a soldier of God and the Church for most of her life, Suzanne probably felt like questioning both. We already knew that she already questioned the Church, lost trust in it. But what of her faith to God? Years of obedience will make a soldier feel like she's sinning by merely questioning her King. Hence, the days of sins. When she found herself in Jillian's home and Jillian's walls, Suzanne was probably on her lowest days.

But here's the thing— it wasn't just Suzanne who was at her lowest. Jillian lost her son two months ago with no way of getting to him because she got burnt every time she tried. The only person who successfully got inside the Arc, Sister Lilith left her. Jillian found out about Kristian's betrayal. She had no idea of what was happening on Arq Tech. The Arc, her creation, was pulsating for unexplainable reasons making her feel like her mind was failing her. All of these meant that Jillian, too, had nothing left to and of her. Her room was nothing but an 'empty crib.'

Two women, both equating to none.

Yet, Suzanne stayed to 'protect the Arc.' In the midst of a war whose main action is in a cathedral filled with blind devotees praising a false God, Suzanne stayed to protect the Science side of things. This is the side of the coin she did not look at yet, she protected. Especially during the time of her doubting.

And when the people who invaded Jillian's home finally came, Suzanne's first question was not 'How do I secure the Arc?' or 'What is the best way to not let them get here?' — it was "How do I get you out?" As if Suzanne knows that the best way she can protect Jillian is when she's beside her. She did not care about anything else at first, not even for her life that she knew was always meant to be short.

It is sweet, wasn't it? Probably because Jillian is exactly what Suzanne had always needed, had always dreamed of. Someone whom she can be new to. Someone who did not know what she had done. Someone who will not question her worth. Because that was her agony her whole life— questioning herself why she was not God's champion anymore.

Here is the 3rd and last verse before the song ended with two Chorus.

My baby never fret none

About what my hands and my body done

If the Lord don't forgive me

I'd still have my baby and my babe would have me

When I was kissing on my baby

And she put her love down soft and sweet

In the low lamp light I was free

Heaven and hell were words to me

Jillian must have heard the shots. Numerous and loud as they were. As well as the body thudding on the ground when Suzanne disappeared. She must have also seen it on the surveillance cameras. Yet, when Suzanne came back upstairs, limping and tired now more than ever, Jillian was only relieved. Asking if Suzanne had stopped them. No questions of how it was done yet implied.

When Jillian had to point where the button meant to detonate the Arc by hand was, and she had no choice but to brace herself behind a desk and watch as Suzanne was killed; Suzanne's (supposedly) last words were still for her God. That she came to see her Lord. Waiting, and bracing herself with His judgement, whether she was worthy of His final kingdom or not, like she always does.

And when Suzanne was first revived, barely alive, she apologized for not being able to save the Arc. Yet, Jillian apologized for not saving Suzanne. Which drove Suzanne to these final statements of her truth. Her final confession of some sort. With her fear-stricken face on the frame, softly caressed by the hands of the woman she first thought to be blasphemous.

She told her (and Sister Beatrice and Sister Dora) about her resentment to God and Ava. How her shame blinded her, then she died. (Again.) Then she lived. (Again!)

Earlier, a cherry tree was mentioned in the first verse. It struck me as odd since there are a lot more popular trees/fruits other than cherry that are also sweet. It was probably because Hozier took the meaning of Cherry Blossom (different tree, I know; but almost the same name) in literature. Cherry Blossoms symbolizes beauty, transient, and impermanence of life. For the sake of this essay, I will take the last two meanings. Both of which Suzanne already knew that her life was meant to be short-lived. Although she was always ready to die, she cherished it as much as she could by protecting her girls, living up to her 'calling.' After everything, she survived.

Maybe a part of her thought, that if she would not be welcome in His final kingdom, she can have one here. If God will not have her, maybe someone here will. (I am pushing it, I know. No, I do not care.) If she will not be forgiven, taken, or ascended by the Lord, maybe someone here will. Maybe, Jillian will.

During that low light scene, when Suzanne was on Jillian's clothes and her hair was braided, she said they should give some prayer. But this one is different because it was not for some aloof Higher Being's guidance anymore. She wanted to say a prayer for the people they have lost. I think this is when she was finally free— of guilt, of her tether to Church, of her blindly saying a litany.

And when she was talking with Ava, although she said some more things about worthiness (it is hard to unlearn one's thoughts), she nevertheless gave her understanding and blessing. And when she sent them to the war one last time, Suzanne did not offer the word of God (or word of the Church). Instead, she said some words from some song of some band. The words of God and the Bible were just that to her— words. As important as other words are.

Then she stayed with Jillian. No matter if she did not need to, she stayed.

I do not know how to end this but let me put it this way— Suzanne might have lost her trust in the Church, but I'm sure she found another altar to serve. She must have found a new religion, and have a new kind of devotion. Still a soldier but for a new cost. Still a worker, but for a new cause.

[omegaplus]

# 4,461

August 9, 2018 Mixtape.

A few months ago, I asked to meet up with a goth-girl mutual named Holly, whom I was genuinely interested in, and she agreed. She later revealed that she enjoyed a night out by celebrating her boyfriend’s birthday. She outright lied to me and led me on with a smiling face. I was devastated. The hurt forever changed me, and I was hit with a brand-new era of anxiety, depression, and devaluation. I would never see or feel the same ever again.

I would experience feelings I never had before. Feelings so wild, intense, and vivid that I started seeing the fear and think of things I never thought possible. The ‘June Visions’, I called them. The past strikes and losses of the past unforgivably returned to assure me that I was feeling lesser-than. I’d arrive to work everyday unfocused, lost, worried, and saddened while still trying to justify and convince myself to have her around before the inevitable silence. Time around me moved forward as my mind was at a total standstill, endlessly processing why someone who seemed interested and wanting to meet up would take advantage of me. Plans of having a city contact and new experiences long overdue became null and void. I’d now carry the barbed-wire cross with me everywhere I go, with no volunteers wanting to take it off my back.

I wasn’t told that I’d be trapped, slaughtered, skinned, and hung up to be bled dry. Built up only to collapse. But the show must go on, they tell you. You keep fighting on the front-lines as the empty shells smoke hot and nestle near your heart. You can do the same with your daily deeds while fighting injured until you can’t fight anymore.

I haven’t seen my (Italian) Aunt Laura in ten years. After months of back-and-forth messaging, we both found a day and time to meet up in her neighborhood of Coney Island. I hopped off the ‘D’ line to Surf Avenue and walked through the amusement park and towards the shore. The rides split away from my peripherals as I was in awe of witnessing the infinite waters and flush hazy sunny skies past the thick shoreline in melting temperatures and humidity. It was an experience in the making. I didn’t know it when I was right in the center of it until I was on the outside looking in. The moment burned so bright that the day spent uniting with long-lost family would leave an impression on me.

A doctor’s appointment on a sweltering Thursday made for another day in the city. Since it was an early afternoon visit, I desired to do a photoshoot in Manhattan. I meant to cross off some specific landmarks from the list because something inside me for months was aching to do it. I take my kit and tripod with me for what would be a full day of urgency.

I board the Brentwood train heading west to Penn Station as always, this afternoon under the dull silver skies. I take a seat on the right-hand side of the car moving backwards. There are not many empty seats, so I take my backpack and rest it on my lap. Since I’m headed to Manhattan, I’ll send Holly a text and let her know I’ll be in Manhattan. A roll of chuck-a-luck, but the odds are against me. The sounds in my ear are playing one after another to create the day’s memories as I do my best to distract myself from a newfound pain that persists. My eyes are fixated on the motion blur of the receding buildings, steel structures, streets, shopping centers, trees, and graffiti all over. It wasn’t until the train riding through Woodside that I heard from Holly. “Have fun.” she texted. A passive message of indifference with no emotion or effort. Two words was all it took to show me that she didn’t care.

My arrival in Manhattan started off by arriving at Penn Station in hazy grayscale skies and steady sticky Eighties’ heat. As soon as my check-up was over, I bolted out and took the N/R/W line south to Bryant Park and the American Radiator / Standard Building. I had an interest in seeing the structure ever since Chris Stewart used it for the album cover, and over time became a huge fan. I’d had no idea if the clouds would give way to more clarity, but by the time I stood at the park’s northwestern corner, I’d see them dissipate and stream out to make way for sharper, bluer skies. The park was densely occupied. Foreign families took pictures of their modelesque daughters posing in front of the crowds. The females in indie-rock fashion would sit by themselves under the shade to read their New York Times-recommended bestsellers or the bookshelves lined on the outer edge of the park. I’d take my time, an hour’s worth, to take a multitude of shots facing south at the park’s entrance. I sat down and had a row of saltines stashed in my backpack to satiate my appetite, then called my other Italian aunt Theresa to tell her I was enjoying myself. In reality, I wasn’t.

From there I’d take the 1/2/3 line down to Tribeca and arrive only a few blocks away from the new 1 World Trade Center / Freedom Tower. There was no trace of clouds by then. Just the ever-present blue skies and the shearing sun looking over me. I set up my kit and tripod on the corner of Broadway and Leonard St. facing south and started snapping my ideas away. Natural light, low light, filtered, non-filtered, color mode, telephoto, wide-angle depth. I’d zoom in to the maximum to see the trade center’s metal framing, windows, and antennas in any which way I could, then pull back to capture the vast landscape of Tribeca’s city streets. But it wasn’t enough. I walk a few blocks east over West St. And 9A to the Hudson River, all along Rockefeller Park and Pier 25 to take closer shots of the Freedom Tower. I’m surrounded by strenuous activity all on the mini-golf courses, volleyball courts, children’s playgrounds, and tricks on the skate park. Two hours pass since arriving here, and I sit down to face the water to call my sister to say that I made it safe and sound.

I reversed course on the 1/2/3 line heading up north for my last destination: Times Square. I walk up from the underground stop and I see the multi-million-dollar high-resolution advertisements towering over me. The older digital photos of my visit there in New Year’s Eve 2007 were a factor in me returning. I snap the aesthetics like no tomorrow. My penchant for Helvetica and subway aesthetic were the first targets; synonymous with New York transit shining bright and aesthetically pleasing. The bright dazzling arrays of electronic signs, neons, storefronts, and marquees of all shapes, sizes, colors, and ages. Everything was fair game to me; all while avoiding the infinite stream of passers-by. Me versus mammoth Manhattan’s hustle-and-bustle.

The sun was setting for all of ninety minutes taking photos there, ushering in the day’s conclusion. The mix of Manhattan’s Eighties heat, roasted sulphur and steel had me exhausted, bent, and expired by sundown. I did all what I could’ve done today. I walked back down leaving Times Square carrying the cross to Penn Station and 33rd Street to take the train back home.

Everywhere I went that day, I realize: she’s here. She’s right here - and yet so far away from me.

I enter Penn Station and walk into the station’s department store which was depressing. Old, outdated aesthetics. The shelves were running on empty and I look around for clearance sweets and discounted snacks to tide me over for the hour-long ride. The location was going out of business. No half-off water. It’s Summer. Don’t even dare to be kind or show any mercy for thirst. I roam around in the lobby for an hour before the ticket booths and the large display of destinations and times, waiting to jump on the first indication of what track my train arrives. The Brentwood line finally arrives, and I run with the passengers-slash-school of fish who look to compete for the seat of their choice.

I had a lot of thinking to do; as if I haven’t already in the past two months. I paid a hefty price for pursuing someone, and all I got was collateral damage that will never be fully cleaned up. I tried to negotiate with myself in doing the right thing by hanging in there and still be friends with her, but odds are I’ll never see her. I will continue to place my bets and pay - and pay - and pay - and pay. I’ll pay at a sunken cost to torture myself by foolishly believing that she’ll reach out to me again because who knows what could happen.

And after I step off the train, I’ll be thinking on the drive home. I’ll be thinking what I could’ve had and lost out on. I’ll be thinking what I might have possibly done wrong, what I did or didn’t do, or what I didn’t have enough of for her to do this to me. I’ll be thinking about the wasted time needlessly thrown away. I’ll be thinking about this every night I go to sleep, when I get out of bed, and when I’m at work struggling to balance customers’ childish mentality and entitled attitudes with the whirlwind concoction of loneliness, depression, and every loss coming back; paid in full to haunt me until the day I die.

Those two words would be the very last I’d hear of her.

Viet Cong / Preoccupations “Disarray”

Lower Dens “Ondine”

Black Marble “A Great Design”

Hot Flash Heat Wave “Glo Ride”

Odd Couple “What Kings Do”

Oldbills “Tablecloth”

Holydrug Couple, The “I’ll Only Say This”

Negative Gemini “Bad Baby”

Refreshers “How Bout U?”

Secret Circle “Tube Socks”

Eyedress: "1990" (ft. Pyramid Vritra)

6lack “Prblms”

Oldbills “Salsa Verde”

LaMont Johnson Aces

Uniform & The Body “In My Skin”

Water From Your Eyes “We’re Set Up”

Beat Detectives “Call It What You Want (Segment One)”

End Of A Year / Self Defense Family “Self-Immolation Family”

Ice Age “Under The Sun”

Daughters “Satan In The Wait”

Nothing “Blue Line Baby”

Sean Price “STFU Pt. 2”

Tislatin Onzar 3=2+1

Nothing “Zero Day”

Prison Religion “007”

Big Boss, The motion picture soundtrack “The Killing Fight”

Oldbills “Black Ice”

Eyedress “High Street Drive”

Tanya Tagaq f. Shad “Centre”

Ta-Ra “L’il Bit”

Sweet Valley “Sentimental Trash”

Wati Heru X Kashaka “BKWYA”

All These Fingers “Puerta Vallarta”

Body Without Organs “Osiris Rises”

Underworld & Iggy Pop “Bells And Circles”

Alt-J “Story 4 Sleeplessly Embracing” (clipping. RMX)

Moor Mother “Washington Park”

Erick Arc Elliott “Breaking”

Rolling Blackouts Coastal Fever “An Air Conditioned Man”

Cansei De Ser Sexy “Girlfriend”

Flastbush Zombies “The Results Are In”

Miss Red “Come Again”

Prison Religion “Glass”

Happy Meals / Free Love “Pushing Too Hard”

Erick Arc Elliott “Fifteen Minutes”

Palm “Dog Milk”

Oldbills “Weekendluv”

Cellars “Real Good Day”

Addison Groove “Footcrab” (DJ Rashad & DJ Spinn RMX)

Charles Manson Lie

Water From Your Eyes “That’s The Girl”

Miss Red “Dagga”

Chvrches “Never Say Die”

Nine Inch Nails “The Background World”

Oh No “Banger”

Curren$y f. The Game & Prodigy “The Type”

CASisDEAD “Leon Best”

Diseno Corbusier “Meta Metalic”

Beat Detectives“ (Undiscernable) Repetition Heavy Traffic: New NYC Vibe 2”

[glass-expanse]

Praise God from Whom all blessings flow!

I've been 19 for a week and a day now and everything is going so much better than it was before.

All of May and June, I was deep in the trenches of depression and suicidal ideation. My 19th birthday, the evil voices were abruptly and miraculously gone. I had spent the day before stressed over scheduling an wanting to die and I broke down and just sobbed to God and told Him I couldn't fight for my life anymore and that He would have to fight for me. Just like Psalm 40 says, He heard my cry for help, He brought me up from the desolate pit, He took me out of the muddy clay, and now He is being faithful to set my feet on a rock, making my steps secure. I certainly wasn't good at waiting patiently, but His mercy is more than my failings!

By His grace, I have taken on the challenge to get back into the Word. I started studying Psalm 103 today and it's every reminder that I needed for the past several months. My relationship with God, while still weak after battling depression, hasn't had the chance to be strengthened like this in months.

A little over a year ago, I got sicker than I have ever been in my whole life. I had Covid and Heatstroke at the same time. I started manifesting symptoms of Covid on my 18th birthday-- I was extremely exhausted and blamed it on stress and the hard job I had splitting myself between camp riding lessons, farm riding lessons, trail rides, camp events, and my camp cabin. Sunday I came to the staff meeting at 0 energy level. Monday I was so depressed and felt so ill that I had to skip catching. I slept through breakfast. It was supposed to rain, but instead the entire farm was choked by a thick glistening haze of humidity. Because of the rain prediction, I had on a long sleeve (light colored) shirt.

I was so weak I couldn't project my voice and had to thrust my assistant into the thick of learning how to explain concepts in the order I gave them to him. Water cups came and I sank to me knees. I had to get through my trail ride-- it was my first chance to ride a horse I'd had my eye on for so long. 17 hands tall. 5 years old. I trust him with my life. Because I white knuckled that saddle horn for dear life, praying I wouldn't pass out. I was too week to even telephone directions for a crooked saddle up the line.

Halfway through, I feel like I need a sub. Call my assistant who is leading. He says hang in there, we're almost back. I cling to consciousness. One of my best friends sees that I'm pale and out of it, springs off the manure spreader tractor, fixes my student's saddle, and leads me in by the reins.

After a chiropractor appointment I guzzled water and powerade all afternoon and talk to my fellow on the phone. I didn't feel any better by dinner so I went to the nurse. Fever. Sick. I drive home in a daze and lie in bed for the next week, too weak to even stand in the shower.

For this past year, I have suffered from fatigue, heat sensitivity, and as time went on, serious pain in every single major joint and bone of my body save my skull. Shoulders, elbows, wrists, forearms, upper arms, back, hips, femurs, knees, shins, ankles, feet, hands... You name it, any physical activity made it hurt.

I couldn't do anything I loved to do. I couldn't even work a 16 hour workweek without being totally sapped each day. things only seemed to get worse, especially as warm weather returned. I had finally given up after two weeks of a diet that only made things worse.

And then, I took a course of iv*rm*ctin. Just a children's course. During the course, I still had pain... But after... It was gone! Praise God! The first improvement I had seen in a year of taking tests, seeing doctors, taking supplements, changing diets, trying rest, trying working, trying everything short of steroids. Finally, finally! I have improved!

And today, today has been so exciting! I spent 2+ hours in direct sunlight... carried two water buckets... cut and arranged not one but TWO full size bouquets... picked berries... measured and remeasured a 60x48 area... mucked out the chicken coop a bit... planked for 30 seconds... and walked a ton. And then, after that, I didn't go inside! I stayed on the porch in part sun part shade until 6:00 or so just talking with company we had over! Staying outside in 90 degree heat! Me! Indefinitely! With no issue!

I'm sore... but in my muscles. I'm tired... but I don't feel the endless black maw of fatigue. And the sun burned my face and arms but it didn't feel like it was hitting me like a mallet anymore. I'm still working on water intake, but. This. Is. Phenomenal. Praise God for His healing!

What's next? Well, I'm praying over my plans. What I would like to do is this. Help instruct camp lessons for the final month of camp. Then after that get a job at a flower shop as the working students return to school. And while I do that, continue to build back into riding and instructing by forging a connection with a new barn where I can be mentored as an instructor. Then this fall, attend a CHA clinic to become an officially certified instructor. And someday soon as I grow in these areas, find myself a couple roommates and buy myself a project horse to expand my marketable skills.

How can you be praying? Well, my largest request would be for patience. I have been so impatient for the past year. I know I tend to be impatient with my body, my abilities, and my goals. So while I can taste the future now, I know thag I still have to be gentle with my body as it returns to being a properly usable meatsuit lol. Also wisdom, that I would know the difference between creating my own doors and going through open ones. For humility, that I may submit my heart, mind, life, plans, and freedom fully to God. That He would make His will for my life clear and that I would have the humility to accept that. For boldness, that I would seek out wise counsel rather than avoiding it out of fear.

Blessed be the name of the Lord... the trials of the past year are yielding fruit, driving me closer to God, helping me support others... This is only the beginning. Even if my health stays here forever, even if it gets worse again, I know God still has a purpose for me and that He's not done with me yet. He can do anything. His will shall come through in my life, He'll make sure of it. I may not know for certain what the next step is, but I know that God is there and I have to take the responsibility to learn His Word so that I may discern the path ahead.

Jesus loves me so much. He gave mercy to Peter, who denied Him thrice over. He has given mercy to me. No matter how far I wander, I know I am in the hand of the most high God of heaven and earth, and I know that nothing can take me away from that, not even myself! My hope is in the sanctified of Christ, that I will continue to grow closer to God despite any setbacks.

Soli Deo Gloria

[angelic-apple]

So you lived online for nearly a decade getting radicalized by a hate group that colonized radfem. You get that all women forward gains by radfem were in the trans inclusive era right? And nothing but wasting time/money/resources has come out of terf radfem since? Well aside from an ever growing right political lean and alliances. I mean 7 years you can't have been in the terf bubble the whole time.

This is a long one so TL;DR at the end!

TW; self harm & suicide mentions

1) I've always been in hyper-progressive leftist spaces until less than 6 months ago and spent my entire isolation thinking I was trans. I wore a binder so much I now have rib and back pains regularly and my boobs sag. I presented myself as a man fully, and it made me so depressed I relapsed back to selfharm, something I had managed to keep at bay for almost two years and was very proud of because it was Hard. The more masc I presented the worse it got, because I looked more and more like a stranger to myself and I mistook that as dysphoria and spiraled even more. I can't wear comfortable t-shirts outside anymore in the heat because people will see my scars which is triggering to me. My self harm destroyed family relationships permanently. I cried a lot and was so miserable I had set plans to kill myself with booze and meds. If my country didn't have such strick firearm laws I would've just gotten a gun though.

I thought I was trans because I was a semi gnc woman with severe body dysmorphia who felt like a person rather than a stereotypical woman, and being a woman was meant to be a specific feeling I did not have. And every time I questioned myself and if transness was right for me I got bombed with affirmations that "being unsure is normal, you don't need xyz to be trans anyway, if you question your gender at all it probably means you aren't cis!" etc.

After I entered recovery and began to be around normal people in real life I quickly realized I was not a man and dropped the label quickly. I felt better as a result and I've been clean off self harm for over two years now. I love myself and my anatomy, something I wanted to cut off from myself so bad I wanted to die.

But when I finally stopped and told my friends I was wrong and that I'm a woman after all, I only had one friend who said "Okay!". The rest avoided it and continued to use he/they pronouns for me and refused to use my birthname instead of my trans name until recently. I felt rejected by people who had been my lifeline for years and like I had betrayed my peers.

Despite this I think being trans is a real thing. Some people do need to transition. I know many and they have done so and I am happy for them. I do not want transitioning to be inaccessible or eradicated.

I think trans healthcare should be improved actually. It needs to be able to handle more patients than it does now. It's cruel to make people wait for years for healthcare and then not be offered proper help but to be processed in and out in as few sessions as possible that are also months apart. Trans treatment should include long-term therapy, multiple appointments, screenings and regular check-ins during transition. This is not gatekeeping btw. I am unable to gatekeep anyone because I am not a doctor. Plus Idk why it's such a sin to wish proper healthcare for a group of people. Hormones are not a magical medicine and transitioning will not fix the other mental health issues you may have, only ease the load of constant stress coming in and that's only if transitioning is actually right for you. Taking someone's claims of their mental health at face value is not always helpful nor good for them. I've been at both ends, so i know it's a hard pill to swallow though.

2) I don't understand your need to mush feminism, lgb- and trans activism together into a single group. Women, ssa and trans folk all have very specific needs that do not intertwine a lot of the times. It's not exclusionary to want to keep the movements separate so each one can focus on what they need instead of pushing everyone together causing constant infighting about what goals to pursue. Nothing will change without active, large scale group efforts and any attempt for anyone to organise right now gets torn apart from the inside because of topic-unrelated disagreements. Which then again makes it easier for right leaning people to organise without a lash back and push discriminatory legislations forward while we're too busy arguing amongst ourselves. It also creates an unwelcoming environment for those who might want to join our movements, which kind of pales in the comparison to political groups on the right who often lovebomb you and seem overly welcoming so it's easier for them to gain more members.

You can be gay, a feminist and trans, still belong in all three groups and practice activism to better the lives of all these minorities separately.

That being said collaborative efforts should be made to improve the quality of life for all, but primary focus of each activist group should still remain issues affecting the specific minority the group is made for. I say this because in the current climate trans rights activism expects unconditional support from every other minority group with little to no help in return from what I've seen, but instead constantly inserting themselves in discussions for other minority rights conversations as well and expect to be patted on the back for it :/

3) I'm not trans exclusionary. I just believe in radical feminism ideologies and think bio sex is real and that I am oppressed for it. The current gender narrative has personally hurt me and due to radblr I was able to meet many other women who experienced the same thing and I feel refreshed because I can actually be myself here and say what I think.

A group of women disagreeing with you online =/= hateful systematic oppression. Blame the rich old white men running the world for that one like the rest of us.

TL;DR - I thought I was trans for a long time, I am a radfem because the current gender ideology hurt me personally. I still think being trans is real and think trans healthcare should be improved. I don't think wanting to keep specific political movements for specific minorities is exclusionary, it's keeping goals clear and making it easier to organise instead of constant infighting, which makes it easier for right wingers to organise and recruit more members im return. You can belong in multiple minorities and activist groups without having to join them all together.

[hollenka99]

Highlights of my time getting surgery under general anaesthetic because yesterday was A Day for me:

There was just something inherently funny about my nurse, anaesthetist and surgeon all trying to speak to me one after the other then getting abandoned by everyone for 3 hours.

Won't say the day surgery name for privacy reasons but it sounds like 'half 11' so when I tried to tell my mum on Wednesday that 'oh btw we are now going to [Day Centre] for 8' it started an impromptu comedy routine that Abbott and Costello would be proud of.

While waiting to be called onto the ward, Mum kept trying to tell me all the gory details about getting the anaesthetic since she's seen it countless times as an interpreter, at which point I told her 'can you Not?'

Like obviously there were other patients to tend to and the doctors have their jobs to do but the '15 minutes of activity vs hours of nothing' is kinda funny in retrospect.

My mum complimented the anaesthetist on his prominent hand veins.

The nurse and I were talking about being certain about those mandatory pregnancy tests coming back negative and she told me about how one of her patients had just finished her period, therefore understandably believing there was no way she'd conceived, yet happened to get a positive test back. So uh congratulations to that woman then? Or my condolences idk.

Compression socks. Just compression socks. Bastards to put on but I now want more of my socks to have grips on the soles.

That high stakes pee because you don't want to get a bad grade in being a patient.

There was an amendment to my procedure because my condition deteriorated since my pre-assessment 10 months ago. As such, I was made to sign consent on these changes.

This in itself wouldn't be an issue if my surgeon didn't make me sign in a cluttered patch of his notes on the side of the page. This unconventional location would have Consequences multiple times throughout the day because none of my other care providers could find my signature.

When I finally got wheeled to the operating theatre, my porter got chatting with another porter about a recent match our local team played while I lay there like🧍‍♀️or I guess more like 🛌.

To be fair to him, it only lasted a couple minutes and he apologised as soon as we got moving again but I was still going 'uhhh...' in my head.

I know it's standard procedure but it will never not be funny to me that to find a vein, you have to slap the shit out of someone's hand while another person has a death grip on the arm.

Two things I remember from this part is being told what the scientific name for the elbow pit is (immediately forgot it) and being told I should take up powerlifting for a couple years so my veins wouldn't stay hidden.

I was kinda hoping that I'd recall passing out/feeling the drugs kick in but all I do remember is wishing someone would fix the oxygen mask that had moved up my face to an awkward position then gradually waking up elsewhere.

I never thought a presumably plastic tube would leave a woody aftertaste.

They also put a towel around my head in the recovery room for some reason? I don't think I was at risk of losing a ton of body heat through my head so who knows what that was about because I can't think of any other potential reason.

My body started acting like it wanted to kin a Victorian who dramatically realises they have tuberculosis as soon as I fully regained consciousness which was Fun. Thankfully no blood was involved, just tons of coughing.

"Why do you keep saying 24? It's the 11th today." "You're 24, aren't you?" "...Oh."

I sat there for an hour, not because of any issues I had but instead because literally every computer was capable of showing my discharge papers except the one by my bed.

And then when the lady looking after me finally tried another computer, my already prolonged stay was delayed further by there seemingly being no porters available for nearly 30 minutes.

Spent the hour fidgeting with my pulse monitor in a way that wouldn't get me in trouble and getting constantly annoyed at them activating my blood pressure cuff every few minutes.

I was completely useless at drinking water through a straw because my lips were swollen. How I managed to actually drink anything during that first hour of being awake is a miracle.

Not much happened after I finally got brought back to my mum downstairs. It was mostly hanging around, wishing they'd let me start the process of preparing to go home already.

Mum expressed surprise at how quickly I ate my yoghurt but my response was along the lines of "Shh, just because I can't feel the hunger at the moment doesn't mean I haven't eaten in around 20 hours. Let me have this."

If I had a nickel for every time I got complimented on how my blood was clotting-

When it came to removing the cannula, I was expecting it to hurt but honestly, I didn't feel the needle leave which was a nice surprise.

Also sidenote but, while I'm certainly not disputing that dehydration was one of the main causes of my borderline headache, you sure can't rule out 'getting bright lights shone in my face' playing its part in that.

What did hurt though was all the tape getting peeled off. Because ouch. At least when Mum ripped off my shoulder nodes as I got changed into my regular clothes, it was instant and only lasted a second.

Speaking of nodes, we both missed the one on the side of my torso which I didn't discover until about 5 hours after returning home. Didn't feel it at all until my hand happened to brush past it.

Got worried some kind of liquid was leaking from it because I couldn't figure out whether the glue just felt weird or not.

Generally just chilled for the evening then stayed awake way past what I would normally call a night.

Oh yeah and I learnt about OJ Simpson's death on the ride home which was Something.

[slayerchick303]

I'm so angry, and I just need to scream into the void for a moment.

Last year/the beginning of this year, I was in the hospital for 5 months after falling out of my wheelchair, causing me to break several bones and tear muscles. It was not a big deal at all. I only told 2 friends while in the hospital (3 if you include my apartment complex).

Forty-eight hours before being released from the hospital, I was told by my complex that a maintenance person had destroyed my apartment by flooding it when I asked them to make sure my heater was on so the pipes didn't freeze. Because my heat was on during the flooding, my apartment and all my belongings were consumed with mold, and I couldn't return. The complex moved me and boxes of my few remaining belongings to a non-wheelchair accessible unit while they de-molded and partially refurbished my wheelchair accessible unit. It was supposed to take a few weeks, but wound up taking months.

To make matters worse, my 18 year old wheelchair kept dying. They don't even make the parts to fix it anymore, and the company said I wasn't to leave the apartment under any circumstances as my wheels were about to break off due to rust.

I was essentially a prisoner in an apartment I couldn't access most of, with only an air mattress, some boxes, and a non-functional TV for MONTHS.

I'm finally back in my half-fixed wheelchair accessible unit. I have a bed now thanks to the generosity of my aunt (the only family member of mine I have contact with), and a working TV on the floor admist a sea of boxes. I also got a new functional wheelchair a few days ago!

I didn't speak to my family for several years. It wasn't a decision I took lightly. On recommendation from my doctor (who has known every member of my family personally for 35 years), I severed ties when it became clear they would never change, care about my wellbeing, or take responsibility for their abuse. I'd always kept an open line of dialog with the kids in my family, but not the adults. I didn't attend family gatherings or answer messages from the parents.

Two years ago, that changed when one of my nephews contacted me, saying his mother (one of my sisters) was in the ICU with a brain aneurysm. She had 5 children and was only 44. I wasn't about to tell my niblings that I wouldn't be there for them when they wanted me because the people my age and older in the family were awful (which most of them actively knew themselves). I spent days in the hospital with all of them and eventually attended my sister's memorial when she died 4 days later. All of them commented on how I seemed so much happier in the years since they'd seen me. I wanted to be like, "Yeah, keeping you all out of my life has stopped me from being miserable and suicidal. Do you get why I cut ties with you now?" I separated from the family again, but I would cordially decline invitations, as opposed to all of them being blocked. The family agreed to give me more space and stuck to it. My mother said she would back off, but never did. She did that every time I asked for space (which is part of what led to me cutting ties with my family in the first place).

I say all that to give context to why I'm angry now.

My brother-in-law contacted me to invite me to Easter dinner. I had already said I was spending Christmas with my bestie when, in fact, I was in the hospital. I declined Easter, citing my wheelchair issues and being told not to leave my apartment (which was actually true!). I felt bad saying no, because my nephew had told me my brother-in-law's mother was dying and they all were sad about it. I wanted to be there to support them. My brother-in-law said they'd all stop by my place with food instead of me coming to them. That couldn't happen. I wasn't in my apartment. I was in a temporary place with nothing but an air mattress, boxes, and a TV that may as well have been a statue for all it did.

I was forced to explain what was going on to him. After he promised not to tell anyone, I told him I was kind of homeless, had no belongings, had been in the hospital for 5 months, and was imprisoned in this place because of my broken wheelchair. I said that I truly couldn't come to them and they couldn't come to me, but that I was truly sorry because I knew his mother was not doing well.

He's wealthy and offered to help replace my destroyed belongings. I immediately said no because I knew that agreeing to take money from anyone in my family would come with the caveat to be a part of everything again. It would be an obligation. There was no chance I was going to willingly be beholden to any of them. I declined his offer, but again said my sincere condolences on his mother. He hung up on me. I'm not joking.

That was obviously a while back. Today is my mother's birthday, and like the past 6 years, I haven't reached out to her. My mother is the biggest culprit in the abusive dynamic of my family. Any time you talk to her, she uses it as a toehold to manipulate herself into your life again. This isn't just me. MULTIPLE people have cut my mother out of their lives. She just texted me as an obvious attempt to start a conversation where she can act like she was checking up on me, then switch to how I'm ruining her life and am a terrible person for not acknowledging her birthday.

How does all of that relate to why I'm angry now? The reason I dumped all this info is because my mother's text made it very plain that my brother-in-law told her everything. He promised he wouldn't tell anyone, yet he did. He did always seem pretty vindictive, but it's not as if I did anything for him to be mad at me about. In fact, it was the opposite. I was speaking to him. I didn't have his number blocked anymore. I gave him an honest explanation for my absence. I offered my sincere condolences on his mother. I can't help wondering if he was like this all the years I wasn't speaking to them, but he just didn't have any dirt on me to spill then, and he did now.

My mom is a drama factory all on her own. She can make a huge issue out of absolutely nothing. She once refused to eat Thanksgiving dinner because she had brought Cool Whip, and people at dinner preferred actual whipped cream, so they elected to use an already opened spray can of whipped cream instead of what my mom brought. She was so mad that she stood in the kitchen alone for half an hour, and when she finally came back to the table, she refused to eat. This was not atypical behavior for my mother.

I'm trying to be generous, so I'll say that my brother-in-law spilled my secrets out of pettiness or to direct my mother's attention away from himself rather than a desire to actually be malicious. That being said, this is going to open a whole new can of worms from my mother.

My text notification sound for my family members has been Hal Sparks saying, "F*ck off!" since I unblocked their numbers 2 years ago after my sister's death. I don't think I'll be hearing that sound anymore because I'm likely going to have to fully block all their numbers after this again.

I know this was TLDR, but thanks for letting me explode.

[keywestlou]

WHY FEWER CITIZENS’ VOICE COMPLAINTS…..PEOPLE HAPPIER OR HAVE JUST GIVEN UP?

WHY FEWER CITIZENS’ VOICE COMPLAINTS…..PEOPLE HAPPIER OR HAVE JUST GIVEN UP? - https://keywestlou.com/why-fewer-citizens-voice-complaints-people-happier-or-have-just-given-up/  Key Westers have enjoyed the Citizens' Voice in the Key West Citizen as far back as can be remembered. The peoples' complaint section. The Citizens' Voice has diminished in length. By roughly one third. Why? People are not more happy today than 10 years ago. If anything, more unhappy. Can it be the Citizens' readers have just given up? Have they come to believe no one listens? That theirs is a voice in wilderness? That no one cares? Decided to get up and out yesterday. I had a craving for lobster bisque. The kind made at Hogfish. Sat at the bar. My order simple. A bowl of lobster bisque and extra crackers. I was not disappointed. Delicious! The bartender introduced herself. Julia. She asked if I was Lou. Turns out she worked at the Casa Marina 20 years ago. Remembered giving me foot massages and manicures. Great memory! I did not recall her. Apologized. She noted I still got manicures. I told her of my foot massage friday. Nice person. Sat next to 2 fishermen. We ended up discussing Tom Brady. Bobby Mongelli walked by. Stopped to say hello. I congratulated him on the sale of Geiger Key. He explained the sale was an emotional one for him. More than 20 years ago he bought a shack that only sold cheap beer and turned it into the success it is today. Chief is a juvenile green sea turtle. He was rescued off Cudjoe Key in January. He was a mess. A heavy load of fibropapilloma tumors. He was immediately taken to the Marathon Turtle Hospital. Kind hands brought him to recovery. Chief has undergone a whole blood transfusion, tumor removal surgeries, an eye tumor removal, received broad spectrum antibodies, fluids, vitamins, and a healthy diet of greens and mixed seafood. Chief is going home this morning at 10 am. He is being released to the ocean at Sombrero Beach in Marathon. A crowd of 100-200 is expected to see him off. Close to 2 months with my feet and ankles. Swelling and pain like you would not believe. Two doctors. Water and potassium pills at their limit. Relief minimal. I decided to do a bit of self help. Went to the internet. Ordered 6 pairs of compression socks. Different brands. They all claim they are the one! Only one pair arrived thus far. Yesterday at 2. Ankle length. Put the pair on immediately. Wore them till 9 when I went to bed. Left ankle skinny skinny. The bad right one 95 percent reduced. From larger than a softball to next to nothing in a matter of hours. I also received Krill Oil yesterday. Took two pills with dinner. The claim is in 1-4 days swelling will be gone. This morning right ankle thin thin. After 2 months! I suspected the right ankle would get bigger as today progressed. It has. I understand why. My first 4-5 hours each morning are spent seated at the desk writing this blog. Automatic ankle size would increase. Gets bigger swiftly. I have been at the blog 3 hours and it is already the size of half a soft ball. I am not unhappy. Dr. Louis is making progress. Two days ago I wrote how Switzerland had taken the bull by the horns and passed legislation limiting use of heating gas under penalty of fines and jail time. Yesterday a viral poster began circulating on Swiss social media telling citizens to "rat out" neighbors heating their homes above the new legal limits. The Swiss government immediately issued a statement advising it had nothing to do with the viral poster and to ignore it. The government is conducting an investigation to determine its source. Sound familiar? Things like that occur in the U.S. also. Perverted troublemakers exist worldwide. The Ukraine is on a winning streak. Ukraine has driven Russian troops in northeastern Kharkiv to the Russian border itself. President Zelensky describes the situation: "The enemy is panicking." New York Times reporter Maggie Haberman in a forthcoming book writes of Trump telling his aides that following defeat he was "never leaving the White House.....I'm just not going to leave." The book soon to be published is titled "Confidence Man: The Making of Donald Trump and the Breaking of America." Enjoy your day!

[nataliesnews]

Subject: the doctor at Nofim and yes!! this is all about me    9.8.2022

From: natanyag@gmail.com Sent: Tuesday, August 9, 2022 5:17 PM To: natanyag@gmail.com Subject: the doctor at Nofim and yes!! this is all about me

 Since the Corona I have really not being feeling well.

  Besides the Corona I think I have not felt well for the last two months.

  I still have  no appetite , all the other things that my proper doctor told me to day and that his 82 year old mother is complaining about . But it is at least two weeks that I have not only been tired but exhausted and feeling that everything is just too much for me. I thought I had an infection in my bladder and also had tests taken here. The nurse never sent the sample as she said that the doctor had not authorized it. Why I do not know as the doctor was in the clinic when I complained. All she had to do was pass it on to her.  I was feeling better but the last days were bad. I hung on as I had made an appointment to see my proper doctor at the clinic. I also noticed that the doctor here at Nofim had not called me in after the results of all my tests came in. This made me really lose confidence in them. Which I had already began to feel when I fell and the nurse refused to come in. At the time I complained and it was dealt with immediately.

  I went to Rene and Jeff overnight and was a lousy guest as the next day I kept on falling asleep.  I came home the next night really feeling lousy. The appointment this morning was for eight. First of all he sent me to do another sample and it seems  I have pretty heavy infection and of course he gave me antibiotics. But then what confirmed my opinion of the doctor here was that my family doctor asked me why all the tests he had asked for had not been done and also that certain medicines had to be changed as I had been taking too heavy dosages.

 Rene sent me home with a food package but I will keep the brisket for when I again have an appetite. I am going out this evening with Irit and Fay and would cancel but I ready did that two weeks ago. We are basically going out for Fay so I will have to get the energy

 I have asked today  to speak to the head of the medical committee here. I do not want to complain but just that they should be aware of that is happening here.

 I have not been back to the Kupat choliem Clinic since I moved into Nofim but that was because I really needed nothing more from them than tests and first aid. But in future I will stick to the old doctor whom I do trust. 

 I have started a course at a water therapy at the Teddy Stadium which is so expensive. But since the Corona and also with this extreme heat my leg has seized up completely. I have started exercising again at Nofim….unless they decide here once more to close everything down…and found that it did help. But I really was getting worried that if I let this continue I would have less and less mobility. Unfortunately I do not have insurance for this as it is unbelievably expensive. I always wonder about insurance as some people say that you go on paying year after year without using it , it is not worthwhile in the long run. I had thought just to go once or  twice to learn more physio which I could do on my own but even in this first lesson I saw she was doing things with me which I had never done before. So I will stick with it. I am not travelling so will pretend I am

 Besides that I went for a deep massage….painful as all hell. Li El said to me that I am her oldest patient and I am in a better state than many others. But while I lie there, I find myself thinking that I am paying for this. I can tell her to stop. But I just moan away!!! And last night I slept and woke up feeling as if my leg was more normal than it had been in a long time.

 So I spoke to the head of the Committee today and she said that I am not the first to bring this up and that they would discuss it at the next meeting. I hope they will solve the problem as they did the last time. I wonder how long it is for the doctor to go on pension.

 Natalie