#hopefully it's just a scare and she doesn't actually have cancer | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

localplaguenurse · 3 months

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Hey.

uwu

Thinking of doomed to die ver for the boys

I was thinking of cancer like as in either Jason or Oli got it, like sure it can be cured but there’s no guarantee it’ll be gone for good, it’ll most likely come back. So they would spend the last couple years,months, and days doing everything they always wanted to do together before the unavoidable happens.

Well Ivy, you're (hopefully) asleep rn as I'm answering so idk if you'll see the notif for this being answered first, or my discord messages.

I don't think I explicitly told you this, and I don't know if you put the pieces together yourself, but Oli's creator is @wretchedshade, who actually had cancer herself. She's beat it since, and she actually just got her bloodwork done again and she's still in the clear.

As such, I had her help in writing this out. This is all based on our instagram messages. I'm also going to put a "read more" here because while it won't get into the nitty gritty details, cancer is not fun. Actually got a little emotional typing it out rip-

Content warning: cancer and cancer treatments, referenced smoking and drug/alcohol usage, mentions of depression and suicide

Oli would more than likely develop lung cancer. He was a smoker for a while and he did start quitting around the time he and Jason got together, fully ditching the habit once the two brought Alice home. It's stage two cancer because Shade wants to be nice, so he'd be doing light chemo and taking medication. She wanted to make it stage three like hers was where he needs emergency surgery, heavy chemo, possible radiation.

Since it's the lungs though, which are delicate, he'd have to do chemo/radiation to shrink the cancer/tumors down before they have to actually go poking around in there and making the really hard decisions.

"And despite it all and the constant pain, nausea, breathing problems and losing his hair, Oli still has a smile on his face bc even though he's been told his chances are good, if something does go wrong he doesn't want his husband and daughter's last memory of him to be how much he suffered." - Shade

Jason would refuse to cry in front of Oli or Alice. He needs to be their support system. Alice is young, she doesn't fully understand why this is happening and is scared she's going to lose her papa, and Oli's the actual cancer patient. The cancer patient doesn't need to console the healthy man and tell him everything's going to be okay, because Jason's not the one with cancer. He saves his tears for when no one is around and for the day Oli gets cleared.

If it were Jason, it would more than likely be pancreatic cancer, possibly even leading to liver cancer. While his main and worst addiction was cocaine, he was also a really heavy drinker during his band days. Even in the years after leaving the band, he still struggled with alcohol and binge drinking every now and then whenever he had a really bad day.

Regardless of the stage of cancer and if he is/isn't going to make it, he's pulling out his "bucket list," something he whipped up back when he was a suicidal teenager who thought he was going to go out in a drug fueled blaze of glory like all the other rockstars he admired did. It's a dumb list of dumb shit, but he picks out a few activities that he thinks are still fun or doable, and he does them with his friends and family so that regardless of where he winds up, they'll think of the fun times before the shitty ones.

It would also be one of those instances where he actually talks to and tries to spend time with his dad. Hell, it might be enough that his dad finally stops being a bitter bastard and gives Jason's "nontraditional" family a chance. Jason got his spite and temper from someone, but even his dad knows this is not a time to be a bigot when his first and only child is sick.

He also doesn't want anyone making comments about his hair. No jokes, no remarks, no pointing out bald spots. Jason's favourite part of his appearance is his hair, and he was devastated hearing he'd lose it during his treatment. What lessens the sting is him and his daughter picking out chemo beanies and wigs for when he finally goes bald. It also helps to make Alice less worried about everything, and is a nice bonding experience during a really difficult situation.

Alice kind of exists in my head in a perpetual limbo of either baby or small kindergartener, maybe a teenager. I'm picturing her being 5-6, still really young. She's a sweet child and loves her dads dearly, so when they get a call about a fight at school, it turns out it's because she started hitting a kid that made a comment about whichever dad has cancer. Jason's "talk shit get hit" mentality is genetic. She felt bad because she doesn't like hitting people, but other than that she refused to apologize to the other kid.

#ask #ivy!#tw cancer #cancer #cancer mention #cw cancer #oc stuff

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itstremmy · 1 year

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It's been a while but thought maybe regular blog entries might be a fun thing. I've been using this tumblr literally for years, and before this one in particular I had another that worked in the exact same way: gifs to show off my mood, thoughts and vibes. Sometimes I'd write a little blurb. I still have access to that original tumblr, though I wish there was a way to merge them altogether as one.

Anyway, back to writing and keeping an active blog. Maybe it's cause I thought since no one would read this that I never really considered putting much effort into my "journal" like summaries of my days and experiences, and yet at the same time I felt like if someone were reading this that I'd be too self-conscious to be honest and say what really happened or how I actually felt.

I think I'm passed that now. And today for whatever reason I felt like writing about the feelings I've had about my family back in Vegas. My mom, dad, and little brother are there, though, my father is close to passing away with terminal liver cancer. He was diagnosed and given months to live back in May of 2021... but he's yet to fall into that sweet sweet deep sleep, so I guess, yay? But for whatever reason I feel like I've been in a constant state of waiting ever since I found out he was soon going to die.

I've visited twice since the diagnosis and each time he's progressively looked worse. His already thinning hair turning fully grey, his body becoming what appears like a sack of skin hardly held together with thin bones that surprisingly are still carrying his weight. He doesn't walk much and when he does there's a constant threat that his knees will buckle, causing him to fall and possibly injure himself. Which makes it difficult for my mom to be away from him for too long as he'll try to make it to the restroom on his own --- the long trek of what might simply be 5 feet from his bed to the toilet. Even that short distance is enough to seem like one that might be his last.

One time while I was there my mom was talking to me in my brother's room, a good half of the house's distance away from my dad, and in the middle of our conversation we heard shouting. He had fallen. We rushed over. Despite him being very frail and light in weight it still was quite tough to pick up another adult human being. He held onto me, I got him back onto the bed without too much strain, but that moment it just felt as if he was hanging onto life by a thread.

He felt ashamed and the last memories of my dad being a strong-working painter who would take me on Saturdays to aide him on side-jobs to put up drywall, fix someone's plumbing, get on a roof and patch up some leak, those memories... slowly began to feel further and further away as I looked into his eyes and saw that particular man fade away.

I think because of this prolonged state of hism just refusing to die, I feel like I'm in some kind of limbo. That I feel despite the fact that I'll undoubtedly be taken over with sadness when the news comes my way that he passed away, that I know I'll be better for it. That my family will be better off without him, without the need to be at his beck and call. I feel for my mom since she's got no one around to help her and I'm so far away. And yet... there are times when I wish I could just escape to the support of my mother, when I'm feeling unsure, when I'm scared of the unpredictability of life, when I need help figuring out what to do. But because she's been so preoccupied for so long with her own health, my dad's diagnosis, and my brother's never-ending situation, I feel like I don't have the resource of a mom to drawn upon.

Hopefully once my dad says his goodbyes I too can move forward and see my family more often, that my mom will text more often, will send more photos and be more involved in my life. Maybe my brother won't feel as much pressure from the situation around my dad that he'll feel freer and want to talk and play games with me once again.

I don't know why I felt like writing this but on somedays I'll just be vacuuming or cleaning the apartment when I think about how they're doing, and I just wonder when things might return to some sort of normal again.

#blog #journal #writing

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boop-le-snoot · 3 years

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cupid carries a gun

masterlist • taglist & faq

dark!Bruce Banner x named!Reader. Rated R.

Dr. Banner is a serial killer known as the Doctor and Bailey has his soulmark. He escapes imprisonment and meets his soulmate. ~2,2k words. Serial killer fluff??

[no y/n, no 'you', no reader description, race/age/body type neutral, only first name]

This is more of a concept I wrote in an hour than an actual fic. I think it would make a good multi-chapter, but really, my hands are full now and I just needed to get this weird dream off my chest. Yes, I had a dream he was a serial killer and I was his soulmate 💀🖐🏻 I need to ease up on true crime shows istg...

St. John's was suffering a nasty collective psychosis. That would be the only logical explanation Bailey is willing to accept for the jittery, jerky way everybody is behaving. Some of it could be attributed to the armed guards roaming the halls and scaring the patients - but in America, a gun slung over the shoulder shouldn't invoke such a reaction from people.

Only select few know what these people are there for, anyways. Most hospital population is clueless, only vaguely perceiving the sense of dread those harbouring the knowledge seem to carry around. People are easily scared - the thought doesn't leave Bailey's head her whole shift.

She, however, knows exactly what is happening. She's good at her job, brilliant even, nerves made of purest steel and bedside manner perfectly compassionate and tender. It doesn't come as a surprise that she is the one that got chosen to handle the problematic, uncooperative patients.

The bar is high, and this time - neigh impossible. A man so dangerous, so volatile, it required the sheriff to dispatch their town's squadron of special forces - not that was anything but a slight setback for the Doctor. The halls of this hospital will be forever marred with their blood, will forever be haunted by the echoes of their screams abruptly cutting off with a wet squelch.

Bailey thought she'd done her part to protect the innocents. Her colleagues, young women just like her (they're not, Bailey's mind whispers), all safely locked away in a storage closet for the cops to find. There are no windows and He won't see or hear them... If they're smart.

There he is, the man everybody is savagely afraid of. He is everything and nothing she had imagined - Doctor Bruce Banner is on the shorter side, stocky and sickly pale in his hospital issue pajamas, the bluish tint to his skin contrasted by dark crimson stains of blood on the rancid green cotton of his clothes.

The axe in his hands is held firmly but clumsily - Bailey's sure it wouldn't have been his weapon of choice should he had been given one. A choice. She swallowed the unease that spread all over her determination like mold, seeing his eyes, wild and crazy, land on the crook of her arm - where his mark laid, bright red and angry, as if it had been carved into her flesh mere days ago.

"Are you, perhaps, in need of a nurse, doctor Banner?" Bailey inquired softly, fingertips shaking, as the man crossed the space between them with short, powerful strides. The woman's stance widened, involuntary shivers running through her bones at the unexpected tenderness coming from him - Dr. Banner's palms gently wrapped around her arm, warm, chapped lips touching the angry, red soulmark near the crook of her elbow.

"It's been so long since I had a nurse," the man's mutter was barely audible. His eyes, the warmest brown she'd ever seen, met Bailey's wide, shining ones, for her to discover no trace of the madness she was told should be there. Bailey smiled.

As the hospital building grew smaller in the rear view mirror, so did Bailey's anxiety, paving way to excitement and muted curiosity. Her mother always had told that fate had a way of intervening when it was needed - and her mom had oftentimes taken up the role onto herself, moving them out of the state when Bailey's soulmark began to appear on dead people's bodies, burned or cut into skin as a signature. Bailey was not old enough to understand what it meant, back then, but she'd always been a clever girl.

With her first mobile device, she figured out why her mother strictly prohibited her from speaking about it, why her mother always kept a stash of large bandaids to cover it should Bailey be required to remove her long-sleeve shirt.

Only Bailey's physician knew. She'd expected terror, disgust - or even pity, but Dr. Strange always kept his mouth and eyes shut. As Bailey grew older, blossomed into a fine young woman, she thought she saw envy leak into his chiseled features - but Dr. Strange was as quiet and cynical as ever.

As long as nobody tried to separate them, it would be fine. A small smile stretched her plush lips, hand squeezing the one holding hers with giddiness creeping into her youthful features. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed an expression of curious tranquility on Dr. Banner's- Bruce's face as his eyes stayed firmly on the road as the radio crackled static in-between songs.

"Penny for your thoughts?" The man she'd grown to crave and fear, his salt and pepper curls bouncing with every pothole the car hit; his warm hand, larger than hers by a stretch, provided comfort she hadn't known she needed.

"Where to, doc?" The woman couldn't hold back the anticipation. She wanted to hold him, to be close - closer than her small, cramped cheap car allowed them to be.

"I have some friends waiting for me," the man announced, as if he hadn't spent the last five years in a maximum security prison. Not that it mattered to Bailey - but knowing there was no way back from this, Bruce's so-called friends became a point of doubt to the young woman. The doctor noticed it, his responding smile both dangerous and comforting, all sharp canines and moist lips. "You know them, baby. Dr. Strange is a colleague of mine and Tony Stark is a great friend."

Bailey's eyebrows rose, mild disbelief caught somewhere in her trachea as she attempted to clear her throat. Her family physician and the businessman rumoured to be the largest crime boss of their side of the pond. Suddenly, Strange's long glances and penetrating stares acquired a new meaning, a sense of indignation seeping into Bailey's newly found joy. "And he never said anything," the longing, the countless nights spent studying every publicly available material on Dr. Banner, the killer surgeon that terrorised the Tri-State area burned acrid in her chest.

"He told everything to me," Bruce's remark stung if only from the fact that he'd known about her all along. "Who, do you think, pushed for your transfer to St. John's?" Bruce's smile glinted a little wicked in the meager light of passing-by streetlights as the evening sun simmered down to a rest below the horizon. "I don't actually have cancer," the second remark was more optimistic, spoken hopefully, with another gentle squeeze to her hand.

Bailey puffed out a breath she didn't know she was holding. The puzzle pieces slowly started to arrange themselves, revealing a bigger picture than the one before. She wanted to be mad - mad at Stephen, for not saying anything; mad at Bruce, for getting himself caught years prior. And the anger at her own mother, for taking away her right to stand by her soulmate, for all the countless fights and nights spent locked up in her room.

Bailey had been treated like a monster as soon as he soulmark showed up - and after so much time spent trying to show she wasn't one, perhaps, it was time to face the truth. Perhaps, it was time to show them how much of a monster she could be, if they were so unhappy before.

Gravel flew under the wheels of Bailey's beaten up Toyota Corolla, sending little pebbles to bang noisily against the bumper and the stone flower beds surrounding the driveway to a large two-story mansion. Two cars stood in from of it with two men leaning each against their own vehicle.

The shorter figure was well-dressed, suit obviously bespoke and expensive, sunglasses reflecting the headlights of her Toyota even from a distance away. The taller figure stood out with familiarity, a lit cigarette freely dangling between the finger of his gesturing hand - Dr. Strange and his long, sculpted legs, Bailey could recognise even from a mile away.

Bruce parked, killing the engine and exiting the car with a free, lopsided grin carelessly thrown in Bailey's direction. Fumbling with the lock of her seatbelt, the woman's eyes latched onto the figure of her soulmate eagerly embracing the shorter man, their reunion evidently long-awaited and happy. Stephen's coarse laugh penetrated the interior of the car as the wacky passenger side seatbelt finally let Bailey free.

Three pairs of eyes bore into her body still wearing the scrubs from the hospital - one laughing, Strange was amused; one curious - none other than Tony Stark and his shameless smirk had made an appearance at their first getaway destination; and Bruce, looking so damn proud and lovesick. The grin tugged at Bailey's lips as the presence of the other men barely registered in her elevetaed emotional state.

"Damn, Brucie-bear, lucky you," Tony Stark wolf-whistled, clapping the doctor on the shoulder and receiving a fond eyeroll in return. Those two really were good friends. "Well, I won't hold you two back from getting to know each other better," Stark wiggled his eyebrows salaciously. "We can talk business tomorrow," with that, Stark waltzed over to Bailey, snatching the keys to her car out of her hands with a quick flick of his wrist. "Can't have a car allegedly containing a runaway prisoner on my property, now can I? Don't worry, babycakes, my people will take care of it. Bruce is family. You better treat him well, or else," the river of words flowed from Tony's mouth, causing the surprised Bailey to simply freeze in place and withstand his rambling, surrounded by the smell of whiskey and Stark's expensive cologne.

Despite his easy tone and the relaxed demeanor, Bailey knew a dangerous man when saw one. Tony Stark was not to be fucked with. "Yeah," she mumbled, scampering for the trunk to take out the duffle bag she carried around everywhere - just in case. Just in case her serial-killing, incarcerated-for-life soulmate would somehow found his way to her.

Tony looked at the spectacle with amusement. "You won't need your ID, sweetheart. All of that is going to be taken care of, don't worry your pretty little head about it."

"Duly noted," Bailey couldn't help the annoyed frown at Tony's frivolousness. Her government ID was the last thing on her mind. She wasn't stupid, she knew her mother would go to the cops as soon as she saw the news. "I have my own business to attend to. Might need a hand," the realization came with the dull thud of the trunk being slammed shut.

Tony's eyebrows rose; Bruce approached her with caution, wrapping an arm around her waist from behind. "Is it urgent?"

"Her mother knows about their connection," Strange piped up, glowing ember of the cigarette flying somewhere over the car. The sound of a lighter followed immediately, another dot of shiny red standing out in the twilight. "Don't worry, Bailey, she's detained and sedated for the time being," he offered with a crooked smirk, nearly no trace of the quiet man who bandaged her boo-boos when she was a child.

"You planned this," Bailey observed, fighting the dread crawling up her spine. The realization - she will never step back, will never be able to escape this life - set in. She was unprepared, having acted on a whim, prepared to live on the run but not within an arm's reach of her previous life yet unable to resume it.

"A long time ago," Strange nodded. "You always were a clever girl, Bailey. It is delightful to finally you where you belong," he smiled at Bruce in earnest.

Bailey wondered what else was going on in the sleepy town of hers. What kind of atrocities were committed daily under her nose, by the very people she knew and trusted. There was so much evil in this world.

But not Bruce. He could never be evil, even as he cut the hearts out of the men that had been treating those around them as objects. Bruce merely made them what they should've been; the greed, the infidelity - what use did those men have for their hearts? The Doctor was merciful and true: he never caused his patients undue pain and always, always left them in a state they were true to themselves. It wasn't his fault so many of his patients were heartless beasts for men.

Those clever hands, the same hands that brought the world at his feet, brought Bailey at his - voluntarily so. Their bodies hot, impatient for each other, with their blood singing a song of lust and longing, both of them hidden from the world by the heavy velvet curtains of Tony's estate - it was hellfire in heaven.

No amount of time too long as Bruce's teeth closed around Bailey's jugular, sinking into the flesh tenderly, all the while her nails penetrated the skin of his back; both drew blood, content to drown in it and wash their sins away with it. Heaven and Hell were merely words for the two, anyway.

Bruce Banner taglist:

@couldntbedamned @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @mostly-marvel-musings @persephonehemingway @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites @pilloclock @sapphicnoodle69

#dark!bruce banner #bruce banner x reader #dark!bruce banner x reader #tw serial killers #what is this even asdfgk #my followers: FORGIVE ME #please #this is so undercooked 😭😭😭

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