#i have meds and yet. i don't know what the fuck is wrong
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Finally watched the first knives out and. I get it. It really is that good huh.
#also a fucking tragedy#like obvs all murder mysteries are tragic to a certain extent bc like. someone died.#but this one is like. literally greek tragedy. it was all so avoidable but only in retrospect#but also in the end so completely UNavoidable bc these characters' own natures is what dooms them#like. if Marta had been just SLIGHTLY worse at being a nurse. just a LITTLE less careful. (which Ransom wanted&expected)#she might not have noticed at all that she'd used the wrong meds. and not freaked out. and avoided disaster#similarly if Old Guy whose name idk how to spell had cared about Marta a little less (which EVERYONE expected&wanted)#he wouldn't have literally killed himself to protect her#and yet. AND YET. it wouldn't have been enough bc they'd have been doomed anyways bc a more careless nurse WOULD have killed Old Guy#like PEAK greek tragedy fatal flaw shit#also. unrelated but. where WAS Marta's family from everyone kept naming different countries but i cant remember if she ever says it herself#which is v on-brand for the point the movie was making with that in the first place obvs but i kinda feel bad that i don't know#also also the fucking. full-circle eventual payoff for that comment about not being able to tell a real knife from a prop?? priceless#the SECOND i heard it i knew it was important but i just couldn't figure out how the heck itd be relevant#esp since he then instantly demonstrated that HIS knife (aka the murder weapon) was real so i was like. ok so where's this prop knife then#but then it DID come back and it was great#anyways great movie glad i watched excited to watch the second one
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I'm just going to post the summary vent as I write things out
#I was a child She was an adult yet it's my fault for not coming to her when she wanted to spend time with me#lying about the fact that you wanted me and saying that my dad didn't#when he didn't want kids and didn't know if I belong to him? and also believed I would be better with anyone else#I'm sorry am I supposed to feel love towards you?#apologizing that you don't do hugs??? when I literally told you I didn't like hugs and you told me to get the fuck over it#also what the fuck have you ever done for me#her apology includes “You see a lot of things the wrong way”#at that point just flat out go I'm sorry it's your fault#“once you think something there's no changing how you think”#funny you can't give me a reason you hate your sister other than the fact that she's out to get you and always has been#She also has never forgiven anyone for anything#also I'm very open about the fact that I'm not very forgiving after a certain point at all#I literally sat down and told my parents to their face that their children do not have to respect them#And yet it's a fucking surprise that after being neglected I don't respect her?#also we have tried to explaining things to her and she'll agree that it makes sense and then circle back to her original argument#also it sounds like she thinks I'm upset about something about separating from my dad that she didn't really do#like we are way past the point of me caring about how sick you are from your meds#that is not even relevant#like oh you weren't around You don't know#I don't fucking care#we were complaining about her not having a job because she was living on her own could have a job and wanted us to support her entirely#and was also still having my dad support her until he killed himself#You could have had a job 19 years before that and refused because then you couldn't complain#And then to end it with I want things to be better between us#I told you months ago I don't want a relationship with you#I understand that you went back on all your words#I didn't#I meant what I fucking said
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You Can Run, but You Can’t Hide
Alpha!Natasha Romanoff x Omega!Reader
Natasha always knew the truth, but it wasn’t until a mission where she had you alone that she set her plan in motion. Come the end of the trip she planned to make your hers in the most natural way—claimed and bred. | WC: 1,440
Warnings: NC Themes (Discarding of hormone blockers) | Guns / Death (to Hydra)
Smut: Kotenok (R) | Penetration (P in V — Natasha has a penis) | Public (Over [a balcony railing]) | Choking | Breeding
Natasha watched the way you paced around the room, it'd been a weeks time since you'd arrived in this hotel. A mission that you were assigned on with Natasha, an Avenger first, Alpha second, but nonetheless an Alpha.
Which would be fine, since you were a beta, but with your medicine missing the truth was coming to light. The truth that the redhead was aware of from the second the lie left your lips, you were an omega; hers, waiting for what, she didn’t know, but she was over it.
———
That's why she took your stash of hormone blockers and poured them down the toilet on night one, at first she appreciated your concealment since she was busy. Missions were at an all time high last year when you joined Shield, but with the incoming fall of Hydra, as this mission is designed for such a thing, there was no longer a need for you to hide from predatory alpha's.
Natasha was here now, to make sure they all knew you were hers. Hers to claim, to wreck, to fill with her pups.
Her cock twitched when she got a whiff of your scent, it was dull from the prolonged use of drugs, but it was still clear enough for her to feel comforted by the soft swirls of cinnamon and vanilla. Then it soured as your body began to fight against the natural, debilitating heat that followed a sudden change, such as quitting your meds. Natasha was quick to croon from the other room, pumping out thick pheromones as she slowly entered the room. You looked up at her so pitifully.
"Oh kotenok," she coo'd, "You don't look too good, what's wrong beta? Are you going through a period?"
You whimpered, body trembling as your natural instincts made you throw yourself into her chest. "Alpha please." Natasha wrapped her arms around you, and held you close enough that you could feel her twitch through her pants. You cried and she smirked. “Oh, what a naughty girl, you’re no beta after all…”
Judging by her teasing tone, you understood that she knew, and with the way she gripped you, it was even more clear what had happened to your supply. You should be angry, but you were actually relieved. A single alpha like Natasha was rare to find, she was kind, soft when off the clock, and gorgeous in all facets. You’d almost poured the pills down the drain yourself every time you caught her staring at you after an event.
“I’m sorry, but please don’t pull away, I-I need you.”
"Are you gonna tell me why you've been hiding?"
"I-I wasn't ready to give up my life just yet, but fuck, I swear I'm ready now, if it's with you alpha, please."
"We have a mission," she reminded you, her eyes cast outside the window to catch movement of the enemy.
"Please!" You gripped her biceps, body shivering at the chiseled muscles that flexed beneath your fingers, if you didn't need her before, you sure did now. "Shit."
Natasha kept your body from falling with the buckle of your knees, her free hand reached for her long rifle and she took the both of you outside onto the balcony.
"I'll fuck you," she gave in with ease, and you purred softly at the good news. Then you felt her slipping your pants off and softly shrieked, "We're outside Natasha, anyone can see us." She chuckled, "Good observation."
Natasha continued to strip you while her other hand set her gun up on its stand, a bit of a multitasker.
"I can wait," you tried to stop her, but not really as you arched your bare ass into her dicks imprint, your body having a mind of its own, your heat was too strong. "Well, I don't want to detka, I've waited far too long."
Though you’d guessed it, you were shocked at the way she confirmed it without an ounce of shame. “Y-you knew?" Natasha gripped your hip, and brought your dripping entrance to her thick tip. "Of course I did, you can't hide from a super soldier's senses," her nose nuzzled over your neck and you whimpered at the hopeful promise of her claiming you. No longer were you worried about anyone seeing you two, the rest of the world faded away as she slipped herself inside.
Her hips stayed still, allowing your slick walls a moment to catch up with the stretch before she was lifting you off the ground. "Na-Natasha, what are..."
The redhead grunted as she lifted your body onto the railing by her grip around the nape of your neck, and you cried out in both fear and pleasure. It was muffled as she alluringly slid her hand around to squeeze your throat. The tip of her cock had slammed into your cervix just as you stared down at the far away ground, full of tiny silhouettes to remind you it was day time.
The railing shook as Natasha picked up a brutal pace, her face never lost its smirk as she felt your legs wrap around her backside, your heels painfully dug into her covered back. "Alpha, I-I'm not sure about..."
"You wanted to be filled Y/N," she taunted, "I said we had a mission, that means you'll take your pleasure while I do all of the work. Be thankful, not bratty."
"Sorry Alpha," you whimpered, and held on tighter.
"There's the leader," she pointlessly alerted you, who couldn't see anything other than her demise if she slips over the railing. Your walls were clenching so hard, hoping to instigate her knot so that you'd have a more secure base, but it was fruitless. Natasha's stamina was unworldly, and you were completely at her mercy here.
You heard a muffled shot go off over the sound of the railing squeaking beneath your moving body, then the gun was going off again. "Partner is down, two to go."
Natasha picked up her pace, and was rewarded with your filthy moans that were once muffled by your fear, and she knew she wouldn't last much longer. Which was fortunate for the both of you since she already shot another member, and was left with the other who had caught sight of the both of you. He was stuck in place, unable to comprehend that he was going to die by the hands of the Black Widow, who was railing her omega.
Natasha smirked, and finally gave into your cries to be upright. She grunted as your back pressed to her front and your slick, from your first orgasm, ran down her legs. "Last one detka, keep him distracted for me."
Your eyes locked on the others, the mans mouth was agape as he watched you get railed, it distracted him from the red dot that illuminated his forehead. He was clearly unaware of his fate as his eyes lost their life but you were aware of yours as her knot locked in place and her potent stream of cum filled you with a future.
"You are going to look so beautiful full of my pups," Natasha hoarsely groaned against your neck, her teeth barely scraped over your sensitive gland and you mewled, your walls milked her cock even more and her knot subsequently deflated after a minute of your persistence . “Fuck, I need to fill you again kotenok.”
Her strong hands held you by your hips as she carried you back into the hotel room. She laid you flat on the mattress, and pulled out of you, just long enough to flip you over and thrust right back inside of you. It was loud as your arousals rushed out, only to be sloshed all over the place as her cock entered you mid disposal.
Your body then thrashed at the harsh fill up and her canines dug into your scent gland, leaving behind her unbreakable mark as your core fluttered around her as you came again without much work. "Keep squeezing me just like that detka and we'll never be apart again."
"Good," you sighed softly, happiness clear in your eyes, "I was getting tired of being apart to begin with."
Natasha chuckled, and leaned in to chastely kiss your lips, "It was your choice to hide detka, I was waiting."
"I'm glad you grew impatient," you mused, then you nervously pressed a kiss to her neck, wet lips grazed over her scent gland. "Can I claim you too, Alpha?"
"Wait," she whispered, voice raspy as she began to pump in and out of you, "Wait for my knot detka..."
#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff smut#natasha romanoff fluff#natasha romanoff imagine#natasha romanoff fanfic#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff x you#natasha romanoff x y/n#natasha romanoff x fem!reader#natasha romanoff x female reader#natasha x reader#natasha x y/n#natasha x you#natasha x fem!reader#gxg
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"THIS IS BULLSHIT!" Clair screamed at her captain
"Crewmen you have not just assulted an injured coworker, you apreare to have threatened others into defending you. This matrer is over and done!" The captain responded coldly
" Assu- I WAS PREFIRMING CPR!"
" I do not care what kind of ritual that is, injured crewmembers are to be handled by the hospital staff alone and are most definetly not to be punched in the chest!"
"I DID NOT PUNCH HIM"
"Whitnesses say otherwise"
Clair took a big breath and sighed before co tinuing more calmly "Have you talked to Max yet? Or a human medical specialist for that matter?"
" Well you put our chief medical officer out of comission but don't worry, we will take the victims statement when they wake up, untill further notice you will be confined to-"
At that moment the doors burst open with several humans piling up on alien guards while a tall skinny man, who appeared to barely be standing hurried in the best he could.
"MAX!" Clair shouted in surprise "What are you doing here you should be resting!"
"And let you get fired for this, no way"
"ORDER" the captain roared! "What in the blazes is going on here? Crewman, I'll have you know that even if you were a victim of this attack I will not allow vigilante justice on my-"
"Oh can it you cretin!" Max said a she sat down
"Excuse me?" Was all the captain managed to say in response before Max continued
" You're excused. Now if you had half a brain you would have looked up what CPR was before aresting the person eho saved my fucking life! Some cretin left live wires uncovered and as I leaned agais the wrong wall I got Enough electricity to light up half of New York for a day running trough my body! What Clair did were chest compressions! She restarted my heart!"
"B-but she is not a trianed medical servicemen! And you had bruizes all over your body, not just electrical burns!" The captain stammered
" Yeah muscles spasm when they get shocked. I got flunged into the wall because of it, hence the bruises. And all human crewmates know basic CPR. It is required from any spacer to know first aid for at least 4 species." Max said
"I- I see. I ... apologize for my rash judgement crewmen."
" Am I not being arrested? " Clair asked
"No, you are not" the captin said with a look of shame
"Then I accept the apology ... now please help me drag this diva back to thw med bay before I actually knock him out" Clair said looking at Max
" Hey carefull Clair, maybe captain never heard of hyperbole"
#hfy#humans are space orcs#humans are space floridian#humans are space oddities#humans are space australians#humans are deathworlders#humans are weird#humans are space badgers
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Hi! (just a personal ask. Sorry if it's not okay to ask for advice out of nowhere but I wanted to see an outer perspective and didn't wanna ask my friends. No pressure to answer of course but I would love to hear your thoughts!)
Is it normal for me to feel overwhelmed about something I want? I am just starting med school and it's a lot but I am fighting. And in my culture, parents buy their daughters their like things?? (like towels and bed sheets and a fridge. Anything they can buy except the apartment basically) for marriage from a young age. But my mom just started recently. And when she first bought me something. The idea of getting married & being a doctor (both things I want) felt like too much I teared up. My mom said I was being spoilers I guess?? Like I was ruining a good moment? Of course it is not that serious since I wasn't outright crying, and I just laughed afterwards as I felt silly lol ,but It got me thinking if I was being that dramatic.
This honestly felt like the moment in the movie where the mom hugs her daughter and says something like "oh how much you've grown" . Her retort felt like it was out of the script.
If you find time to answer, please be extremely blunt. Because I know for a fact I have a tendency to exaggerate things.
You are not overreacting. You are not exagerrating things. And I'm going to tell you this, because I experience this, the tendency to downplay your own feelings and recollections of events very often comes from having other people do it to you first. People tell you your feelings are wrong, or stupid, or irrational, and you learn to listen to them instead of yourself.
It makes complete sense that coming up on a major cultural milestone would make you feel excited, or scared, or overwhelmed. It sounds like you came upon the first step of a very big change and the reality of it all hit you at once, which sounds completely normal and expected!
Fuck, *I* used to get that about moving houses, and YOU'RE expecting shit like marriage? Holy fuck! I'd be a complete mess! The fact that you're level-headed enough to ask questions and process your feelings and talk things through is impressive, because I think I'd be losing my mind.
Personal story, but when I turned 17, my mom asked me if I wanted to go to a restaurant to celebrate. When I told her that it sounded nice, but I'd rather have dinner at home with the family, she told me I was a selfish narcissist, and that I was so busy thinking of myself that I didn't consider that other people might have been excited to go out.
At the time, I thought she'd been harsh but ultimately correct.
Now, I see that she had decided what kind of perfect evening she had wanted, and had expected me to play the part in the movie she had written herself. It had never been about what I wanted at all- it had been about her personal desires and expectations.
And it's normal to feel frustrated about things that don't go the way we want or expect, but lashing out at others is not an appropriate way to handle those emotions.
The way we feel cannot be controlled like a machine. The way we feel is usually not a problem. The problem is what we do, and the choices we make based on those feelings.
Children throw tantrums and sat mean things because they haven't learned better yet. They don't have the practice or experience. Adults like your mother and mine should have that on lock, but often don't, especially if culture or tradition or social expectations tell them their actions are justified.
If I had to take take guess, I'd say it sounds like your mom gave you this gift with an idea in mind of how she wanted you to react. She probably wanted you to be grateful and praising and sweet, so she could fulfill the role she envisioned for herself, and when you deviated from that picture, she was disappointed. From that perspective, it would seem that she felt slighted, and that she was owed your gratitude, and you were at fault for withholding it.
This perspective makes sense, in an emotionally immature sort of way, but would completely overlook your feelings, which are just as important.
Your exact situation is not one I've been in before, but if I'm correct in my assumptions (which I may not be) then I'd suggest keeping an eye out for other instances of your perspective and feelings being minimized.
Are you often told you are behaving irrationally? That you're over-emotional? That you're self-centered or greedy or entitled? Are you told that you don't remember things or do things as you're told? That you see problems where there aren't any? That you male trouble where there is none? That certain conversations aren't worth having, or that "you're always like this"?
It sounds like you know that something is off. I'd encourage you to keep asking questions and follow your instincts. At the end of the day, your life is your own, no matter where it came from.
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So here's the thing about having a post break containment on tumblr: if you make a mistake in the original post, there's absolutely fucking nothing you can do about it.
The people reblogging once you realize your mistake aren't reblogging it from your blog. They're reblogging it from someone you never even knew existed. If you edit the original, it does not affect the copies already being passed around.
You can make an addition to the post with a correction! But here's the thing. Posts tend to break containment if they are tagged and people see it in the tags they follow. But reblogs don't appear in tags. Only original posts do. So your addition will only be reblogged by people who follow you, and it's pretty rare for a post with a correction added in a reblog to break containment in the same way as the original.
So you wind up getting a lot of reblogs with angry comments about how you're wrong (and that's if they're being polite - the less polite ones will attack you rather viciously, which is not something I would wish on anyone). And even if you didn't make a mistake, if there's something you didn't make clear enough for Tumblr Reading Comprehension™️, you'll wind up inundated with angry comments from people who missed the point, and it's too late to go back and adjust your wording to make it clearer.
(That's why I'm making a new post for this instead of responding to the comments I got on the post in question, by the way. I'm hoping some of the same people who spread around the original might spot this one in the tags and share it around as well.)
So what is this about? I recently made a post about how a friend was worried that I was addicted to my ADHD meds purely because I said I look forward to taking them and they bring me joy.
The purpose of that post was:
Something bringing you joy doesn't necessarily make it addictive. (For fuck's sake stop being afraid of pleasure.)
Even if something is addictive, that's not inherently harmful.
Don't be afraid to take your meds just because they might be addictive. If they help you more than they harm you, take them.
I also made a comment about how my ADHD meds aren't addictive anyway. This is the point people have been pouncing on me about. So allow me to explain where that assertion came from.
My psychiatrist, an ADHD specialist who manages my meds: I know you're nervous about addiction and tolerance to meds, but don't worry. If you have ADHD, methylphenidate is not physically addictive.
My GP, who I got a second opinion from out of nervousness: Yup, your psychiatrist is right. You don't need to be afraid to take these. Take them as directed and you will not form a physical dependence on them. If you notice them getting less effective with time, though, you can always just take a break from them to remove any tolerance.
Me, after a year and a half of taking these meds: Yup, no addiction here. I guess my doctors were right.
So here we are. Two doctors and my own personal experience have assured me that ADHD meds are not something to be afraid of. Yet I keep seeing people afraid to take their meds because they're afraid of dependence. So why don't I do a nice thing in this post of mine and reassure my fellow gremlin-brained tumblrs that their meds are perfectly safe to take!
And to be fair, I've gotten quite a few reblogs with tags and additions and comments saying thank you, I was afraid to take my meds, even though they help me, but now I'm reassured that I shouldn't be scared.
And I think that's a positive outcome.
On the other hand, I'm getting some very angry comments from some people who seem to think I'm attempting to spread a vicious, intentional lie claiming that people with ADHD are immune to stimulant addiction and that I'm going to do all kinds of harm, presumably on purpose, because there's nothing I enjoy more than ruining other people's lives! 🙌
I would assume that anyone who thought about this for more than three seconds would realize that's not the case, but this is tumblr.
I've gotten angry rants ranging from "this author you've never heard of wrote a book where he defined addiction as inherently harmful, and therefore you're harming people by saying being addicted to something is not inherently bad!" to "STOP SPREADING MISINFORMATION!!!" to "OP is making statements that are incompatible with reality!" and folks? I'm real fucking tired of it.
Is it possible that my doctors are wrong? Of course! Doctors get things wrong all the time, especially when it comes to stuff like ADHD! But yelling at me from across the internet and accusing me of lying is not helpful.
There is nothing I can do about the original post. I can reblog it with an addition clarifying that yes, everyone is capable of becoming psychologically dependent on basically anything in a way that would be considered addiction, and yes, that includes ADHD people and their meds.
To be clear, this does NOT contradict the intent of my original post: that ADHD meds are good, you should take them, medication making you feel good is nothing to fear, pleasure is not the same as addiction, addiction is not inherently dangerous, and according to my doctors, who are fallible human beings but my most trusted source of information as of the writing of that post, ADHD meds are not physically addictive - as in, your BODY will not become dependent on them to function. This is the definition of "addiction" I had in mind when I wrote that post - and I think in a lot of cases the thing upsetting people is that we don't even actually disagree on what we're trying to say, but there was a miscommunication in terms of what I actually meant.
If I could go back and edit that original post and have it change everywhere it's been reblogged, I absolutely would. I would clarify where my information was coming from and what definition of "addiction" I intended, and reiterate that even if something can cause physical dependence, that doesn't necessarily mean you shouldn't take it.
But I can't. That post is out there now and there's not a damn thing I can do about it.
Keep this in mind as you go forward in your tumblr journey, friends. If you come across a semi-popular post with a mistake in it, you can bet every bit of your ass that OP has heard about it many, many times already, probably in very impolite terms, and there is nothing they can do about the original post. Unless they're a massively popular blog, a reblog with an addition or correction will not be seen by the people spreading around the original.
And for fuck's sake, stop assuming ill intent on the part of people who say something incorrect online. There are people out there who intentionally spread misinformation, but those people are rare, and usually trying to get you to not vote democrat in US elections, not trying to encourage you to take your fucking meds. If you see a mistake, it's probably an honest one, and if you really want to correct it, be a decent fucking human being, be polite and kind, and try assuming good intentions on the part of the person who said it.
The person telling you to take your meds is not your fucking enemy.
Oh, and do me a favor and reblog this, please. I actually have very few followers so no one will see it if it doesn't get reblogged. Thank you.
#adhd#actually adhd#medication#ritalin#concerta#methylphenidate#addiction#misinformation#tumblr reading comprehension#stop being dicks to strangers online
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Can I request an angsty future Donnie x Reader where Reader returns to the base severely injured after a patrol goes wrong, they and Donnie are together but not fiances yet or anything like that, and then dies before Donnie gets there?
Sorry I just want heart murdering angst you don't gotta write this dudjfjj
Someone Fucking Loved Me
f!Donnie x gn!reader
Warnings: major injury, Donnie focused, angst, blood and death, swearing, non verbal Donnie, grief
A/N: *nodding* Yes. Yes... F!Donnie angst... My favorite. Yummy. The bold is Donnie using sign language. I didn't want to use '' " so you guys didn't get confused.
Leo didn't get to say much to Donnie. Barely able to say your name before he lost contact with his twin.
The base was loud, everyone wondering what was going on, wanting to help all the injured. He was in a hurry to get to you, sure he hadn't let Leo finish, but waiting for his blue brother to finish his statement would've wasted time and based on how Leo spoke it wasn't good.
"Move out of the fucking way!" He growled out, pushing and squeezing between people.
The crowd murmured your name, Donnie's heart racing. He had to get to you. He tried to squeeze by a bigger group, but they didn't budge. A few people saw him and moved aside though, he could feel tears forming. Fuck. He's crying and he knows if you see it you'll tease him. But at least you'll be okay.
He finally push past a group and into the med bay. It was bustling, people with their families, a few cloths over beds. Donnie heart ached, praying that you were okay. He made his way deeper into the med bay, seeing people being bandaged and taped up. His heart pounds in his ears as he got to the separate rooms. Donnie's eyes met Leo's and his heart shattered.
"No. No. No. No. No." Donnie murmurs softly, shaking his head aggressively.
Leo.
Leo was waiting for him. If it was Mikey or Raph he'd go in and tease you for managing to get hurt. He'd sit by your bed, telling you about his latest invention while you're being bandaged.
But Leo?
Donnie voice broke, unable to speak. Leo looked at his twin, his own heart breaking.
Leo meant nothing good.
"Donnie... I'm... So sorry..." He whispers, gently touching Donnie's arm. Donnie couldn't hear him, not showing any sign acknowledging Leo, his eyes glazed over.
Donnie stepped into your room, seeing the machines pulled away, your clothes soaked in blood. He stood and stared at the unfamiliar body on the bed.
This couldn't be you.
Just yesterday you were telling him what you'd do when you got back, that you couldn't wait to be buried in his arms again.
This can't be you.
This person Leo claimed to be you didn't have warmth in their skin. Their blood was too dark, their eyes too cold.
This wasn't you.
This couldn't possibly be the person Donnie was supposed to be with for the rest of his life.
No.
NO.
You just hadn't come back yet. You'd be home later tonight, entering his lab with an overly dramatic sigh, draping yourself over his shell.
You were too alive to be laying in this bed.
You were too warm to be this cold body.
You were too bright to be in this dark room.
Too kind, too perfect, too careful.
Too important.
Donnie hesitates, stepping closer, your hand hanging off the bed. He sees a glint of something shiny. His hands shake as he takes your hand, lifting it to his gaze.
Your ring. The one he made you.
Tears slowly fall, his gaze lifting to your face.
Your eyes still the color he remembered, but blank and cold.
Your nose with the same bridge he loved kissing, but splattered with blood.
Your lips, the ones he loved pressing his own to, now split and saturated.
His hand trembles as he cups your cheek, no words, no sound leaving his mouth. Donnie's eyes stay on your face, the face he loved waking up to, the one that displayed your smile so beautifully.
His thumb brushes your blood stained cheek, his eyes searching yours. As if he's hoping to find any sign of life, any sign of you.
He doesn't.
His thumb brushes over your cheekbone, silent sobs racking through his body. He leans down, pressing his forehead to yours, his tears falling onto your face.
Leo moves closer to his twin, gently placing his hand on Donnie's shell. Donnie turns quickly, shoving Leo away.
Your. Fault.
"Donnie... Please, I tried. They got in front of me." Leo explains, his own tears falling. Leo holds his hands up, taking a step away from Donnie to give him space.
You promised.
"I know. I know, Donnie. Believe me. I didn't want this... I never wanted this... Please, Dee..." Leo whispers, sniffing and wiping his tears. "I'm so sorry..."
Donnie ignored him, turning back to you.
⋆｡ ﾟ｡☁︎👾｡ ﾟ｡⋆
"You're so nasty!" You laughed, smushing your pillow over his face. Donnie laughs loudly, grabbing your waist, interrupting you as you tried to get dressed, and pulling you back into bed with him.
"Nasty? Nasty, my love?" He pins you under him, tickling your sides. "Am I not allowed to admire your perfect body?"
"Nasty and pervy. Gross." You squirm underneath him, playfully trying to push his hands away. He grins, squeezing your hips.
"My darling... Do you not also watch me change?" He teases, looking down at you, a playful glint in his eyes. Donnie leans down to whisper. "So... I believe that also makes you nasty."
⋆｡ ﾟ｡☁︎👾｡ ﾟ｡⋆
He wasn't sure how long he stayed there, feeling your soft cold cheeks. He wasn't sure how long he'd been crying, not sure how many kisses he'd pressed to your forehead.
But Raph came to get him.
The last thing Donnie wanted to do was leave, but Raph hugged him tight, carrying him out of the room. He had no energy to fight, no will to do anything but drift.
Donnie's cheeks stained with tears, his eyes felt distant as Raph tried to talk to him. Donnie just looked past his giant brother, not seeming to be there at all.
How could he possibly see a bright side, have faith in the Resistance, when his life was gone so quick? How could he move on when you were the only person he loved? When you were the only one who could get him to take a break?
How could you be gone?
You promised till death do you part - even before you two got married, but it had taken you before he had time to blink.
You promised that you'd always be there, but you're not anymore.
Someone fucking loved him.
Someone fucking wanted him.
Someone chose to live their life with him.
But that someone is gone.
That someone is cold.
That someone no longer breathes.
That someone he'll always be in love with.
That someone hell always be waiting for.
He fucking loves someone.
#{fish answers•°}#rise of the tmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rottmnt#rise leo#rottmnt x reader#rise donnie#rise donatello#donnie hamato#donnie x reader#teenage mutant ninja turtles donnie#rottmnt donnie#donnie tmnt#future donatello#donatello x reader#donatello hamato#tmnt donatello#donatello#tmnt 2018#save rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#save rise of the tmnt#future donatello x reader#future donnie x reader#future donnie#save rottmnt#unpause rise of the tmnt#unpause rottmnt#unpause rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rottmnt donatello#rottmnt donnie x reader
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Ari- Baby is sick for the first time
Ari Levinson x best friend!reader (now fiancé)
New Parent Panic, a Bedrock and Blueprints tale
Warnings for protective!Ari, Ari not communicating, you doing the same, and then everyone gets their shit together and it's fluff. WC 2k
*Off in the distance an ol' timey man pops up: "An argument, you say? You wrote an argument?? How different from your usual!!" Ha-ha. Yeah. We get it. Ro's the same hoe as last year...
**I am not a mother. I know what would reasonably be categorized as zilch about babies. I have, however, seen this overwhelmed and guilty behavior from several of my peeps as they raise their youngins, so that's good enough for me. You're doing fine. I promise.
Sure, there was the rather severe diaper rash incident, and the time when nursing her turned your nipples into raw portals for a newly-discovered circle of hell, but nothing could have prepared you for this day.
Rachel was...meh this morning when Ari left for work. A little whiny, not sleeping well, but she's an infant; that's not new. Overall, she's actually been a very straight-forward baby.
And then you don't know what happened.
You napped very hard until noon (after only a moderately successful feeding) and by then Rach had a fever.
You called the nurses' hotline. You gave her the dose of baby meds. You're trying to keep her hydrated, at least, if she can't be happy right now. You just have to stay vigilant and wait it out.
But that's not easy.
She's crying and won't sleep, she'll barely eat, and you don't have a separate car. You only want to call Ari if it's to say "we need to take her to a doctor." You're not there yet.
So you do the shittiest feeling thing you can think of, the most painful thing, and you wait.
You don't sleep. You barely eat. You take Rachel's temperature like you are monitoring the possible meltdown of a nuclear reactor. One wiggle of a degree in the wrong direction, and that Bat Signal is going on.
I can do this, you tell yourself. I've wanted to be a mom for a long time, so I can do this.
Except you don't sleep and barely eat.
Ari arrives home precisely when he said he would, the exact number of minutes (after work shuts down for the day) that it takes to drive to the house, predictable, dependable, and utterly useless when he opens the door and asks "why is she crying?"
"Because she hates me," you blubber, holding her to your chest, arms cramped from cradling her for so many hours at this point.
"She need meds?"
Of course, I gave her the fucking meds.
"Hungry?"
No, asshole, I purposefully starved your fucking child for my own amusement.
"Calm down," Ari snips back. "I'm just trying to help."
Well then fucking help me!
By now, you likely look as if you're in a war zone: disheveled, manic, and possibly--definitely--hostile.
"Okay, okay, let me just take a piss and then I'll hold her."
"Yeah, of course. Whatever you want. Whatever you need." You turn your back to him before grumbling, "not like I haven't had to hold it all afternoon..."
Ari's still-booted feet land heavily beside you again. "Then I'll take her now," he grits through clenched teeth, "and you can use the bathroom."
"No. I already have her."
"Fine. I'll be right back."
"Take your time."
The way you lace the words with a sickly sweet melody has Ari spinning on a heel and staring at you through his long eyelashes, a tick in his jaw stopping him from saying something he might regret.
"Kid," he finally sighs, "just tell me what you want me to do, and I'll do it."
He runs a hand over his beard while he waits for your answer. A few seconds later, his hip juts out, arms akimbo, and he bites his bottom lip expectantly.
You just walk off toward your phone on the kitchen counter and call the nurse hotline back.
"I swear, woman," he mutters as you leave, but you're glad he can't hear you sniffle back a sob.
It should be reassuring that the nurse has no new advice for what to do. You're doing everything correctly. You're doing all you can. Don't worry. Keep checking her temp and giving her whatever fluids she'll take. That's all for now.
It doesn't feel like enough. It doesn't feel like all a mother can do.
Ari? Ari waltzes up to the fridge and cracks himself open a beer.
You don't even have words, only flaming hot vibes that will melt his face like a Spielberg movie--you have got to stop watching movie marathons during late-night breast-feeding--if you stare hard enough at his casual blue gaze.
"So," he begins, "you figure out what I gotta do?"
What had been steady whimpering from Rachel has amplified into wails that bring tears to both hers and your eyes.
They just fall down your cheeks, and you wipe them from your chin before they can fall onto your screaming child.
Ari's judging frown makes your stomach turn while he steps closer, bends at the knees, and takes his little girl in hand.
Less than a minute later, Rachel stops, and you just cannot fucking handle it. The only quiet moment you've had in six and a half hours he gets to enjoy moments after coming home.
That's not fair. Cure fucking cancer already, Levinson, and save us the goddamn grief!
The tears and the tired are choking you.
Ari tells you to go freshen up in the bathroom, but that is the most horribly wrong way to say anything to you, ever, in a moment like this.
You stomp out the front door, rip open the sliding back door of the SUV, and crawl onto the cab floor. Once the latch clicks behind you, face buried in the blanket kept on Rachel's car seat, you scream.
You whimper and you cry and you get your fucking time to be angry at all your feelings today because it's bullshit.
You didn't take your own temperature. You didn't get rest and drink plenty of fluids. You didn't take any medicine. All you keep going over in your mind is whether or not you were sick first. Did you have something you gave to your daughter? Is this your fault?
So the tears and the choking continue for...as long as they take.
You don't know how much time has passed before the car door is yanked open again. Thank the stars you are facing away. You can't look at Ari right now.
"Is she okay?" you ask with a watery voice.
His big, warm hand rubs across your back, making you sink further into the upholstery.
"Took a few ounces of a bottle and went down in her bunk."
Ari likes to call Rachel a part of his 'squad,' so he talks to your infant daughter like they're going on 'missions' to the store or getting a bottle from the 'mess.' Your bedroom has thus become the 'barracks.'
Sometimes, he holds her sitting up against his chest and uses her feet to 'march' the pair of them across the house.
Left. Left. Left right left.
And almost always, there's a giggle, too.
"Up you go, kid," Ari huffs, maneuvering you into his arms.
"No," you whine, so tired you can't tell what it is you don't want.
He just keeps saying, "I know. I know," until he's carried you inside.
Instead of taking you to the couch or the bed, Ari sits you both down in the front hall, balancing you on his lap while he loosens his boot laces and finally kicks the sturdy shoes off, placing them on the mat a couple feet away.
He presses his lips to your temple, rough beard gently scrubbing over your eyelid and cheek.
"How many times I gotta tell ya to call me?" he whispers. He doesn't expect to have this same argument again, not like this, but his point still stands. "You know, you're warm, too."
If it's another question, you don't answer that either. You change the subject.
"Did you take her temp?"
He nods, and the number he tells you is the same as it was thirty minutes ago, or rather, thirty minutes before he came home.
Ari squeezes you tighter. "You want to get into bed, and I'll bring your some juice and meds, huh? Meet you in there?"
"I'm a bad mom," you breathe.
"What?" He pulls away, smacking his head on the wall behind him. "What are you talking about?"
How are there more tears left in your body? You should be nothing but a shriveled husk at this rate.
"Bullshit," he practically seethes. "Don't you ever say that again."
"I shouldn't have--"
"Stop."
"--you were--"
"Stop it," he blurts, firm and serious.
"But I'm the one who wanted this, Ari!" Your most powerful voice only comes out as high whisper. "Me. I wanted kids. This whole time. I bitched about how Joanna's done, and I thought I could just--" you swing an arm out dramatically "--and I suck at it. Rach even likes you better!"
"No, kid. She was exhausted. I only got here at the right time."
"It's 'cause your comfy and you smell good--"
"--not sure about that--"
"--and she loves you," you bemoan.
Ari snorts out a laugh.
"She loves you, too. You're her mom." He tucks you in closer, soothing you with petting hands wherever he can reach. "I love you. So much. So, so much."
He finds your hand and the sapphire ring he put on it, spinning it gently on your finger. He hasn't gotten to make good on his promise. Planning a wedding, even a small one, with a newborn is almost impossible, but that seems to be part of the problem.
Anything to do with you or you two feels selfish when there's three. Guilt grips you when you stop to daydream about your big day because it's not about Rachel. She's the most important thing. She will trump you forever as the single most--
"Can I tell you a secret?" Ari's timbre rattles close to your ear. "You're my favorite."
You slump into his chest until your forehead braces his throat.
"Almost not fair, really," he drawls. "You've got a decade of brownie points, and she's managed to make me buy more pads for her than I've had to for y--"
You pinch at his side harshly, biting back a smile, the salt from dried tears on your lips flooding your mouth.
"Oh! And you can control your bladder for a whole day, which is downright impressive wh--hey now--" Ari scuttles on the floor to evade your attack on his ribs. "I'm just...being...honest," he chuckles.
"You're a jerk is what you are, old man."
He easily grabs both your arms and pins them together in front of him.
"Yeah, but I'm your jerk. Your old man, kid. I'm yours, okay? You are not alone here. You don't have to know how to do everything by yourself." He lowers his voice as well as his face to yours. "And you mean just as much to me as that little girl in there. You hear me?"
There's a different lump of emotion lodged deep in your chest. You only nod because you can't speak.
He makes your foreheads meet.
"Please be okay. I could never do this without you. Any of it..."
That's when you realize what bothers you so much: Ari should need you to raise Rachel, but you never truly acknowledged you might need him to raise her, too.
This enormous weight of clutching every thread of life in your own two hands isn't real. You can share. You are meant to share your life with Ari. Ari is meant to share his life with you. Rachel shares life with you both, as she is meant to share with everyone around her. It's a lesson she has the opportunity to learn a lot younger than you, apparently.
He gets you to drink a whole bottle of water. He brings you some food and medicine while he handles some laundry and cleans out the day's bottles. He leads you with both hands to the bathroom, finally, and then gets you settled in bed.
As you fall asleep, you watch Ari take Rach's temperature again.
He lets out a silent cheer and holds his hand over her.
"High five?" he whispers. "No? It's fine. We'll work on that."
The last thing you see is Ari playfully lifting her from the basinet, sneaking out to the living room to enjoy a movie marathon, just for a little bit, snuggling together while he winds down for the night.
All that matters is she's safe and happy.
That, and of course, waking up in Ari's arms, listening to his slow breathing and Rachel's faster, baby huffs. You can handle anything because you made it through today and you have them.
[Ari's POV for this day]
[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]
@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn @late-to-the-party-81 @rogersbarber @yenzys-lucky-charm
#bedrock and blueprints#ro answers#ari levinson fanfiction#ari levinson x reader#ari levinson x you#ari levinson x female reader#ari levinson angst#ari levinson fluff
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i know a lot of people wanted izzy's death to be more meaningful in some way - that if he had to go, that he go out protecting ed, or even stede, or sacrificing himself for the crew. i guess i just want to throw my two cents in and say i loved it, that it wasn't like that. it was kind of stupid, kind of senseless. death is senseless. we so rarely get to see the whole fucking senselessness of it in media in a character we care about.
this one gets pretty personal so i'm gonna put it under a cut
my gran died at the end of july, super out of the blue, and it just didn't make any fucking sense. she was doing so good. the night before, she'd stayed up late, laughing and playing cards and eating blueberries with my mom. and then the next morning she dozed off after breakfast and just. never woke up again. and it was so hard that we didn't see it coming. when my mom called to tell me all i could say was what? what? what? it didn't make any sense, what she was saying. senseless. meaningless. one day there, one day gone.
i work in the legal system, and we see that senselessness a lot. a guy driving his car in the wrong place, wrong time, hit by a drunk driver, gone forever. a neighbor stepping out onto their porch while a fight is going on, someone draws a gun, gone forever. a friend steps between two strangers arguing, steps right into a knife he never saw, gone forever. a child getting a hold of dad's gun, gone forever. an addict chases a high, the dose is off or there's something else in it, gone forever. a dad getting frustrated with the baby, gone forever. a teenager thinking he could make it across the tracks before the train, gone forever. tomorrow i'm going into work to run a med mal case. the surgery went wrong. the nurses didn't notice the signs. gone forever. firearms discharge accidentally. an argument devolves into a fight. a deal goes bad. someone is stronger. faster. drunk. high. negligent. reckless. my work is a fucking parade of people who did nothing to deserve death and everything to deserve more, and yet. and yet.
they forgot to disarm ricky banes. izzy happened to be standing right behind him. gone forever.
that senselessness makes sense to me. i guess it mattered to me to see that play out on screen because that's what i see in real life. that ache is the ache i see in people's eyes when they file into court. in my mom's eyes at family dinner. sure, ofmd is just a tv show, and izzy hands is just a character, but that death reflected something to me that i see every single day in so many people.
i've seen a lot of people say izzy deserved better. so did that guy and that neighbor and that stranger and that addict and that child and that baby and that teenager and my gran.
but death is not about deserving. it doesn't care what someone deserved. it comes or it doesn't. when a creator/writer kills a character, they aren't necessarily saying that character deserved it. they're saying death comes for us all, and right now it comes for this person. that they made izzy's death kind of stupid and kind of senseless reflected reality for me and made me and the death i experience every day feel really seen. the questions it leaves in its wake that you'll never know the answers to.
why is sometimes one of those questions.
you don't have to like it. that's okay. i just wanted to say - just because it wasn't for you doesn't mean it wasn't for anyone. it meant a lot to me.
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High with my lover
Reader X Conrad Fisher
mostly fluff (Spicy fluff but still fluff) may or may not write a smutty part two
Reader and Conrad wake and bake.
-
-
It was a cool summer morning in cousins, you had been up all night tossing and turning thinking about Conrad.
So before sunrise you hurried down to the beach in your Pajamas and a jacket you found hanging up by the door.
As you near the end of the path, you notice a familiar tawny head of hair.
"Conrad what are you doing up so early?" You say with fake shock in. your tone.
He gives you a sassy look before responding
"I couldn't sleep"
you two really were like two peas in a pod.
"What's on your mind?" you ask softly
"its not important," he replies quickly.
You decide to leave it as there was a sense of seriousness in his tone, that softly told you to drop it.
You plop down next to him and silently sit in each others presence for a few minutes, before Conrad pulls out a joint and starts trying to light it.
"Dude it is 5:45 in the morning are you serious?"
"What its summer, It's not like I have anything better to do anyway." He defends himself
"Fair enough" you say and pull out a blunt of your own.
"What the fuck, since when did you start smoking y/n???"
"Pretty recently, it has the same effects as my anxiety meds without the horrible side effects." you shrug
He just stares at you for a minute as you light up and take a hit.
"Our moms are going to fucking murder me if we get caught." Conrad grumbles.
You just shrug once again and offer him a hit, he just chuckles and takes a long drag.
You can't help but stare as he exhales, there's something so sexy yet so wrong about watching your childhood best friend smoke.
"What, are you going to take a picture or something?" Conrad jokes
"Oh fuck off." you laugh and take the joint back.
Suddenly you get a brilliant idea. May it be the haze starting to wash over your mind? Maybe but brilliant none the less.
"Do you want to try something?" you ask
"Depends on what you have in mind..." He trails off
"Do you trust me?"
He just nods in response, his red eyes wide with anticipation.
You take a long drag from the blunt and Then kiss him while blowing the smoke into his mouth.
Conrad groans in appreciation and kisses you back, before exhaling through his nose.
"That was so fucking hot,"
He takes the blunt from between your fingers and does the same to you. He inhales the smoke and then grabs the back of your head and kisses you roughly while exhaling the smoke into your mouth as you had done to him seconds prior.
As you exhale the smoke he pulls you onto his lap.
"You know I think that was one of the best ideas you've ever had" he says in a raspy voice
You wrap your arms around his shoulders and rest your head in the crook of his neck to hide your blushing face.
"Don't get all shy now you started it Y/n." Conrad teases while pulling you back to look at you.
Your cheeks had gone vermillion at that point. You glance up into Conrads eyes and kiss him once more, this time he takes control and crawls over you, carefully laying your head down in the sand.
He gasps when you start to kiss his neck, and abruptly pulls back.
"Are you sure you're okay with this we don't have to do anything" Conrad states with a worried look in his eye.
" Believe me I want to, are you okay though?" You ask
He pulls back and sits next to you, "Okay promise not to laugh at me" He pleads
"Why would I laugh at you Conrad?" you say in a serious tone,
"Okay, this is sort of cheesy but I've wanted to do this for a really long time and well as hot as that was I want us both to be totally sober for this. I want to remember every single second of this"
you were too stunned to speak. Literally.
"Please say something you're freaking me out." Conrad says and pulls you closer.
"I feel the same way.. I love you Conrad.'
the two of you sit in comfortable silence and watch the sun rise the rest of the way before going back up to the house...
the end.. maybe. Let me know if you want a part two.
#conrad fisher#conrad x y/n#conrad x reader#tsitp#the summer i turned pretty#jeremiah fisher#conrad fisher x you#conrad fisher imagine#conrad fisher fanfic#team conrad#tsitp s2
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Tw for weight loss mention
The whole exercise will cure your disability thing is a fucking joke. Yes exercise is beneficial for your health, but only if you aren't already on shaky foundations. You need to be on a treatment plan that WORKS before going into the maintenance phase. You wouldn't do regular maintenance on a broken item, you'd work on getting it up and running first. And maybe it would even need specialized maintenance afterwards if it's especially fragile.
I have fibromyalgia and acute degenerative disc disease. My immune system attacks my nerves and discs in my spine are slowly calcifying and causing the bones to constrict and damage my nerves (i think thats how it works). I have days where it feels like my body is on fire from nerve pain and days where it feels like my spine is about to rip from my back. And days where I have both (like today!). I get numbness in my hands and feet. I have horrible migraines. I can no longer walk unaided more than maybe 5 minutes without severe pain. I have something wrong with my knees and hips but the doctors don't know what yet.
You'd think I live an obviously seditary lifestyle correct?
Hell no.
I walk aided on average 6 miles a day over difficult terrain OUTSIDE of regular activity almost everyday. My legs are muscular and strong. I get my heart rate up and a good sweat, like all the gym rats swear on. I am often doing physical labor such as weeding, digging, sample collecting, pruning trees etc.
I'm not saying this to make other disabled people feel bad or prove that they can do anything if they just tried harder. This is an extremely painful lifestyle I've chosen that takes a lot of lifestyle management AND BOUNDARIES to keep up with the work. I also have an extremely forgiving boss who is also physically disabled and knows what I'm going through (deciding between your passion and your health and having to do so each and every day) No one should ever be expected to do what I do. I'm not even sure if I should be doing this myself.
This is to prove that exercise? Has not cured me. My muscles are strong but still hurt as if they're broken and I have to take more breaks than my coworker. I am constantly getting out of breath and I flare up regularly if I'm not careful. I am in excellent physical condition outside of my disabilities. I go to different doctors several times a month to get checked out.
I previously went through a diet program and lost a lot of weight (basically starving myself and got off my depression meds which cause weight gain but are also the only ones that work) and guess what? That didn't do shit either!!! I still felt horrible!!! I've since gained back the weight anyway after switching to focusing on adding more nutrient dense foods than taking stuff away from my diet (also muscle weighs more than fat, and fat helps cushion my aching joints and spine).
The muscle doesn't do shit for my disabilities outside of maybe some stability. Exercising everyday doesn't make the pain go away. Without my medications and aids and nutrition plans and steroid injections and spinal adjustments and physical therapy (that takes my fibro and spine into account) and alternative work methods I WOULD NOT BE ABLE TO DO WHAT I DO. Exercise alone is like trying to make a car run with no oil. Yes it'll go but it'll get more and more damaged till it can't and will need its entire engine replaced!
And yet I see new doctors and they look at me and the first thing out of their mouths is do I exercise? I should try doing a little every day :) and then i fucking blow their minds when I tell them about my job. No longer can they use that fucking cop out on me. I've been through this rodeo. Ive tried their suggestions. If you are in pain and nothing is helping? Exercise ain't going to do SHIT. You need to get to a point where you can move without severe pain first (if that's even possible). Then and only then should you consider implementing regular exercise if you can. Also weight loss talk is a red flag and a cop out. They made me lose 50+ lbs before they would look into the reasons behind my pain. Weight loss did nothing for me and exacerbated my pain.
I am living proof that all that shit is a lie and a cop out. That is the point of this post. I cannot believe people with serious medical conditions are being forced to put their bodies through extreme duress just to be believed. You are not disabled because of laziness or because you sit a lot. Plenty of people live seditary lifestyles and do not live in constant excruciating pain (they may develop disabilities later in life due to this however, and should be doing preventative exercises to maintain their health)
Please, share my story with doctors. Use me as an example. I am proof that "exercise first treat later" does not work. I should not have had to wait years to have my pain validated. I'd rather hundreds of fakers get (what? A blood test? An MRI?) than one chronically ill person get told to try yoga and go away by a doctor.
#wrenfea.exe#doctors and nurses dont fucking clown on this post#anything you say needs to be backed up by sources with apa citation thrown in for good measure#this is my personal experience dont tell me im exaggerating or just havent tried hard enough#i will kick you with my horse legs and then go lie down for 4 hours#bedbound people i am sending you so much love and will probably be joining you in a few years#chronic disability#chronic pain#spoonie#fibromyalgia#disability#chronic illness#from the field#physically disabled#this also applies to neurodivergent and mentally ill people but pls don't derail#this is mainly about physical disabilities#you are welcome to make your own post and reference mine if you want @ me and ill reblog it#sometimes im like oh i cant be disabled bc i do all this stuff im a faker inflatrating the community#and then i have days like today where i cannot leave my bed#i am so pissed off that people with long covid and ME have to go through that fucking exercise rehabilitation program#that actively makes their mitochondria worse#you wouldnt start using a vase without fixing the cracks first#the water will spill out and the flower will die#degenerative disc disease
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Being sick || [John Price x reader]
Note: I loved John and the reader's chemistry in Four so here you go. This is the result of me suffering from goddamn covid myself.
Price hated to wake up without you by his side, especially when he was at home. After your date night on the previous day, he thought you could spend the morning in bed together, enjoying your short alone time. But when he woke up and turned to your side, he found the empty spot where you'd been when he fell asleep.
So he put on a shirt and began his short trip around the house to see where you were. In a matter of minutes he found you in the living room downstairs, cozily tucked under a fluffy blanket on the couch and reading a book in the silence the neighborhood provided so early in the morning.
"Lucas is with my parents and you don't use this opportunity to get some extra sleep?" he asked with a smile when he entered the room.
"I don't feel too well," you replied hoarsely as you closed the book and looked up at him. "I didn't want to wake you up with my coughing."
A worried expression replaced the loving smile the moment he heard you talk. "What's wrong?" He kneeled on the couch next to you and quickly checked your temperature by putting the back of his hand on your forehead. "Okay, you have a fever, you're going back to bed," he instructed before putting away the book and the blanket then reaching out to help you up.
But you pushed his hand away and stubbornly said, "I'm fine."
"You're not," Price told you when you started coughing. "Come on, I'll make you tea and bring something to bring down the fever along with a covid test."
"John."
Shaking his head, he simply scooped you up and began to walk towards the stairs with you. "This is not an argument you can win," he said with a know-it-all smirk.
"Ugh, fine."
"I hate it when you're being this difficult."
"I just can't be sick."
"You absolutely can." When you reached the bedroom and he gently lowered you on the bed, he sat down next to you and swept your hair out of your face. "Look, I can take care of you and myself just fine, and I'll ask my parents if Lucas can stay with them for a few more days."
Rolling your eyes, you looked at the ceiling. "I never said you can't take care of me," you murmured.
"You didn't have to," he informed you with a smile before he leaned down to kiss you on the lips.
"Hey, you're gonna catch whatever it is," you warned as you pushed him away.
Laughing, he stood up and held up his hands. "We live in the same house, I slept next to you last night, so I think I'd catch it eventually anyway. But fine, I'll give you space."
Ten minutes later Price returned with a tray in his hand that he settled on the bed next to you then sat down. "I'll put the tea on the nightstand because it's still hot. Here's a glass of water and some meds for the fever," he went on, giving you both. "And it's a good thing I stocked up because here's a covid test kit and a pill for your throat too."
"Doomsday prepper," you joked with a smile before taking the pill.
"All right," he began once he took the half empty glass from you and put it on the nightstand next to the steaming mug of tea. "Let's do the test. I brought myself one too so we'll see," he said, opening the boxes and neatly placing each item in front of you and himself.
Watching him with an amused smile, you leaned back against the headboard. "I can use a test, you know, I'm not dying yet."
"But I want you to rest."
At this point you gave up and decided not to force him. Price was glad you made this decision because he was too worried to deal with that. About ten minutes later you were both just sitting there on the bed, holding hands as you watched the two test panels.
It was you who broke the silence with your coughing fits every now and then until you said, "I was happier when it was my pregnancy test that became positive."
"Well, we're fucked. Let's hope I get away with it without symptoms so I can help you more," Price told you then began to collect the remains of the kit on the tray.
If there was one thing everyone knew about Price, it was probably how much he adored you since the day you met on a mission seven years ago. He was smitten, he knew that. Kate and Kyle often teased him about this, especially when they overheard parts of his conversations with you.
So now that you were sick, he was ready to spend the next few days taking care of you, just like you'd do if the roles were reversed. Once he took the tray back to the kitchen, he made himself a coffee then returned to the bedroom to lie down next to you.
With his legs pulled up, he dialed his mother's number and put it on speaker so you could also hear it. "Hi, Mom," he greeted her. "Look, can you get Lucas and yourselves a covid test?" His mother was surprised to hear it and her surprise disappeared the moment she put the pieces together. "Yeah, both of ours were positive so I just want to know if he's okay," he explained and his mother promised to do what he wanted. "Okay, thanks, Mom."
"Can we talk to him?" you asked worriedly, but she immediately explained that your father-in-law took him to the playground that morning. "Oh, okay."
"Call us if you know anything, okay?" Price asked then ended the call after a positive response. "I hope he didn't catch it," he said.
You watched him with an amused smile on your lips and he had no idea what it was for. "I love it when you're like this," you suddenly told him.
"Like what?"
Laughing, you reached out to take his hand. "When you turn on your worried-dad mode."
"Is that so?" he asked then leaned over to kiss you.
"Mmm-hmm. Like when I was attending a meeting in the HQ a few months back and you sent me tons of messages about taking him to a doctor because he had a mild fever."
Price laughed. "I freaked out."
"Yeah, I could--" you began but started coughing mid-sentence, "tell." When you could finally finish the sentence, you moved a bit to rest your head on his chest. "Thank you for taking care of us."
He couldn't help but look down at you with a big smile. Not because he was proud of himself, that was the bare minimum he could do as a husband and father. No. The reason behind the smile was how emotional you always got when you were sick or injured. It was cute and he loved it.
Later in the day--after finding out your son and his parents were all in the clear--he brought you another round of tea and meds, but this time he put some chocolate on the tray for you as well. "Liverpool's playing tonight," he stated as he sat next to you and sipped from his own tea.
"I know," you replied with a smile.
"You think you're gonna be okay while I'm watching it?"
With a cute little laugh you reached out to put your hand on his arm. "I'll be fine. I'm not dying. Maybe I'll watch it with you," you added after some thinking.
Raising your hand to his lips, Price said, "You should sleep, your fever's still not down."
"I'll be fine, John," you assured him.
He agreed. You were his lucky charm after all. The team couldn't lose if you were watching the game with him. So after you finished your drinks, he accompanied you downstairs, making sure you were okay on the way, then he tucked you in carefully with the blanket you left there in the morning.
#call of duty#john price x reader#john price#captain price x reader#captain price#captain john price#captain john price x reader#modern warfare ii#modern warfare
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How is my pharmacy running out of my ADHD meds a thing that can happen? Like, this shit is on a schedule. My doctor set it up. Ya'll work for the same organization. You know for a fact that Foone B. Turing is gonna want 60 Adderall every thirty days unless they die or change meds.
And if they change meds, it would be ordered by their doctor, WHO WORKS FOR YOU. You would know immediately that you no longer need those pills. You can be forgiven if it turns out I died, but that just means there should be some extra pills left over.
Is it an unexpected rush on pills? Maybe 10,000 people are getting freshly prescribed Adderall this month, and you ran out. That's fine I guess but you'd think the "new Adderall prescriptions" rate is relatively flat. You estimate from previous months and figure out how many people on average get newly prescribed, and then make sure to order enough for both your existing prescriptions and the new prescriptions.
And this isn't like regular retail, where you have to just guess and estimate how many people will want milk or shoes or a nintendo switch this month, and if you get it wrong, you lose money. You are selling something that's tightly regulated. if some rando walks in and asks for it, you can (and are legally required to) tell them "no. go away and get a prescription first".
And as for repeat customers? You literally have a list of their names, how often they buy the thing, and how long it has been since they last bought the thing. You have to, to keep track of prescriptions. It should be trivially easy to estimate how many of a given pill you'll need per week, with incredible accuracy. Most retail establishments would kill to have this kind of information on their customer's buying habits!
This is basically the most easy it is possible for running a retail establishment to be.
And you don't really have competition! Sure, the customer could ask for their prescription to be taken to a different pharmacy, but you're an HMO. 99% of customers are just going to get prescriptions from your own pharmacies. Your only real competition is internal: are they going to fill the prescription as pharmacy A, or pharmacy B?
And remember, you're an HMO: YOU KNOW WHERE THEY LIVE.
How often is someone living in town X going to randomly decide to get their meds from a pharmacy 200 miles away? pretty rarely! So you know vaguely which pharmacies they might go to, and you can even look over the past orders and make up a decent estimate as to which pharmacies they attend.
Your only real sources of uncertainty are new prescriptions, people dying/changing insurance, and people just forgetting to fill their prescription/going off their meds without talking to their doctor. This should be almost trivial to handle.
AND YET
I order my meds on monday. I go in on tuesday. They're out of my meds, completely. They say they'll get them in wednesday.
I go in on thursday. They have 1/6th of my dose available. Will I accept that for now? YEAH I GUESS BUT MAN WHAT THE FUCK HOW ARE YOU FAILING AT RETAIL THIS HARD?
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this as a prime example of what is wrong with simblr (and tumblr in general). this ask was sent to me within like less than a day of that post about cf going up, while I was away for the weekend and not at pc for days. I did not even see the post until right before I got this ask. yall are so damn terminally online that you lost the gd plot and cannot comprehend someone not keeping their finger on the dying pulse of the performative activism headquarters of the internet. and you definitely can't comprehend waiting for complete info or maybe just a full day before starting some reactionary bs. just peeking in here since yesterday i see that simblr is yet again so hyped up on smelling its own farts that it's turned an issue of genocide into yet another dick measuring contest of who can reblog more posts than one another the fastest so they can look more empathetic and better than anyone else. and call themselves "real activists" for being able to click the reblog button. not to mention the usual spamming anons to random people minding their own business. yall are weird as fuck and need to get a firm grip on some grass. stop making the horrific suffering of others about yourselves for once.
that being said, let me get serious for the people on here that are actually normal. for those that don't know by now, this anon seems to be referencing this post about cf, which talks about overwolf (the company that owns curseforge) donating to the IDF. But I also found this tweet by OOP made after that post that explains they have since received DMs from Overwolf stating that they have shifted their relief efforts to aiding victims that have lost their homes from the Hamas terrorist attacks exclusively and do not fund the IDF. this is a much better cause as the victims of terrorism definitely deserve to be helped, and it makes sense they would do this as an Israeli company. The DMs also clarify that it is donation based and nothing uploaded to cf (cc/mods) contributes to this effort whatsoever. As well as Overwolf/Curseforge revenue in general. So simply using curseforge does not mean that you fund or endorse genocide. OOP calls their new efforts commendable in that tweet but I am still looking into and keeping an eye on this matter since, as we know, more information could come out later that contradicts this. And since I have been away im still catching up on everything that has been posted relating to cf.
here are the pics for those that may not have Twitter. do I still support a boycott for those that want to? oh, absolutely. I know that many will still want to boycott regardless, and I'll be working to add alt links to my cc uploads as soon as possible (the ones that don't already have them) for those that don't want to use it. However, everyone I've seen wanting to boycott seems to want to do it because a) they believe overwolf is funding the IDF (apparently is not true) b) they believe having their uploads on cf or downloading from there will fund the IDF (apparently is not true) or c) overwolf itself is an Israeli company (is definitely true). therefore based on the new info we now have some may decide not to boycott after all or will still do so, it is a personal decision. will I be deleting my account there? for now, no.
to be completely honest, I'm in a really bad place financially right now, and while it isn't much, the little bit I get from cf downloads has been exclusively going towards my meds and dr appointment bills. I don't have the option right now to turn down the small amount of added income when I am currently living day to day, especially with the updated knowledge that simply having cc uploaded there does not contribute to their donation efforts in any way. I do not paywall my cc and never will and I do not ask for donations myself, so my options are somewhat limited. although I do not make cc with the aim of getting paid, I ultimately wouldn't be able to justify the sheer amount of time I spend on it if it wasn't helping me with my medical bills currently, as I am already caregiving with the majority of my time. I'm not reliant on cc making or cf to live, and I never want that to be the case god forbid, but in full transparency it is helping me with my healthcare expenses atm and I cannot afford to neglect my health anymore than I have. especially since, as established earlier, using cf does not contribute to the IDF in the first place. so I personally do not judge anyone that continues to use cf for this reason.
also, for the record so there is no confusion on my personal views, I fully support the freedom of Palestine and condemn genocide first and foremost, as well as terrorism and antisemitism. The current situation in Gaza is abhorrent and I encourage all my followers to not only reblog posts, but educate yourselves on the situation and bring it irl as you are able. Speak with the people you love as well as those you are acquainted with and bring this to this to their attention (if you feel safe to). Attend protests if you can. If you cannot, make the calls and emails to your representatives, sign petitions, and donate as you are able. I have been seeing that even spreading Palestinian culture among your loved ones and peers is helpful. So even if you are in a bad place mentally, that may be an option to spread the positive message of the Palestinian people in your everyday life. I'll be reblogging the posts I already did earlier and some new ones too so you can find those updated links. I will be tagging it with palestine so that it can be found easily on my page.
In addition, be kind. To others and yourself. Try to see the full damn picture instead of a snapshot. What someone posts on tumblr of all places does not reflect an entire person's being, or their efforts, or their heart. Yelling your head off on this dying website does not equal activism, and running your mental health into the ground taking on the weight of the world doesn't give you any more control over the issues we face- I learned that the hard fucking way, believe me. By all means share as much as you like, every bit helps (especially if you have a lot of followers), but keep in mind that it certainly doesn't make you better than anyone else. I know it's extremely difficult to feel helpless and you want to feel like you're doing something, but just make sure you're doing the right things for the right reasons. Please do not fucking attack random people for not responding within one business day of the latest info coming out. And take time away from all this shit to breathe. You can't help anyone if you're fucked up yourself. especially for those of us that already face discrimination and bigotry every day irl, I know it is exhausting. Remember to also care for yourselves through all this.
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Nooooo... I want my wip done dammit. But anyway my mind got hijacked by a sci-fi au, so. Here we go again I guess, have some sci-fi settings for the LU boys🫠🫠
Feel free to use any or all of this setting for yourself, if anyone is interested. Credits appreciated tho not needed.
General background
The Links came from different time period due to the unavoidable time delay and time wrap in intergalactic travel (think Ender's Game and how all the ships arrived at the same time despite spanning decades in departure). Up to recent times where instant wrap becomes a thing, at least.
The Links, and maybe the Zeldas too, may or may not have came from a common clone source (think Dances On The Snow style cloning, gee I love that novel)
There's a war involving a certain holder of the force of power, at some point.
I actually have no idea what the Links gathered for, something something evil shadows, I guess?
Is time travel a thing? I don't know. Depends on if they fucked with the spacetime continuum hard enough (they have). Though I refuse to melt my brain again for any inevitable paradox situations so for now let's pretend they haven't.
The Links
Sky was a well decorated pilot for the Hylian air force, back when air force is still it's own division. He is the furthest back in terms of time period, being one of the test pilot on board project Skyloft, the very first large scale long distance warp jump in Hylian history. Very skilled pilot, despite the outdated training. Fi is helping a lot with his retraining. His jet is simply named Crimson.
Four is a engineer from the Picori system. At one point got himself into a freak accident involving a cloning station and a lunatic scientist. Extremely quick learner and good at solve technical problems (it's like working fourth times the normal speed, you know:)
Time is humble ranch hand, or so he claims. He's not entirely wrong, but before he become said ranch hand, he has a complicated history with the Hylian council and the intelligence community. Specialized in mech suits, heavy hitter.
Twilight is the actual rancher, being Time's adopted son. However he got himself involved in a series of abduction and trafficking cases, and somehow ended up in some human experiment. Straight up not having a good time tbh. Though he broke himself out and took down the rig before Time got invited to the carnage, which is good because there's at least something left of the offenders. Good at mech suits and piloting jets, but specialized in hand to hand. Hand to claw? Hand to fang?
Warriors was an army captain on board of Artemis' flagship. Though he specialized more on the strategic planning than the daily management, hence why Wind is the unofficial captain of the ship now. Comes across as snobby at first because damn non of this gang have any training or discipline? Mech fighter, heavy hitter. Good with jet piloting too, just don't comes with his own jet. Copilot with Sky if needed.
Wind ran with Tetra's crew before whatever leads to him joining the chain, so a privateer. Though he prefers pirate, just sounds that much cooler. He comes with his own jet, the Red Lion. Talented pilot, very good at scouting. Surprisingly the most experienced in managing the staff on board since it's similar scale as Tetra's.
Legend is, well he'll say he's a merchant. Hauling and selling perfectly legal merchandise. The Federals disagree, but they're mistaken. His private jet, Sir Raven, is not technically armed, but the 'merchandise' on board is varied and certainly useful in hostile situations. Very skilled at navigating and bullshitting the feds and fighting with his custom weaponry. Kind of a weapons expert too.
Hyrule may or may not have been one of the perfectly legal merchandise that required Legend's shipping service at some point. And may or may not have led to Legend gaining yet another wanted poster somewhere, somehow. Works miracles with the med unit, and like Legend is great with the unusual weapons that they rig up.
Wild is a cyborg, multi talented but especially appreciated for working miracles with the food assembly thingie. Despite being the only one on board that don't need edible material to survive. Technically the owner of the ship, and technically is part of the ship too. Take care of the daily management with Wind.
The ships
The ship they're currently aboard is the Master Ship Zero very original I know, Fi is the ship's Ai. Though the three jets in the hull each have their own system. The master ship is not really meant for a crew of only 9, but between the Fours and some creative problem solving, they managed pretty well. (Or maybe the Links didn't came alone, so there are more crew, like Malon Ravio and idk, somebody else.)
Wind's Red Lion is the smallest and lightest jet. Single pilot, speedy and stealthy, but very little fire power.
Sky's Crimson is a antique very traditional fighter jet, though it's is under heavy modification to suit the need of the current situation. For a fighter is on the small side, but comes with heavy fire power.
Legend's Sir Raven is a modified commercial jet, packs a surprising punch. But overall focused on camouflage shielding and speed. The largest jet among the three, actually. At least the largest hull. Can fit the whole chain inside if need must, but cannot provide sustainable life support for more than three people.
#yet another au#linked universe#lu sky#lu four#lu time#lu twilight#lu warriors#lu wind#lu legend#lu hyrule#lu wild#lu chain#lu au#lu
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For day 1 of Scoteng Week! I did write it on day 1 but I needed to gather courage to post
I attempted to write Scotland's accent. I'm sorry.
Prompt: Anger from worry / Inconvenient Attraction
Summary: A dialogue-only fic about a sexventure gone wrong between the lads, but it all comes out okay in the end. ♡
—
“Hold still ye fucken weapon. Almost… almost– uh-oh.”
“Uh-oh? What do you mean uh-oh?”
“It slipped again. I don't think this is workin, Arthur–”
“Shut it. Shut your mouth right now and get your fingers back in there and FIX this.”
“I’ve been trying! It’s not moving.”
“It will move! It will move!!!”
“I cannae even SEE it anymore…”
“It’s because you keep shoving it back in with your sausage fingers!! Give it a minute!”
“A minute? I’ve been four fingers deep in yer ass for near an hour and a half!”
"So you’re giving up already. After all you have done to me.”
“After all I've done to ye? Was I the one who came home from the sin shops with a new dildo in MY sustainable canvas shopping bag? Was I the one who laid a towel down on the sofa next to my fuckpal as he was TRYING to watch the footie, stripped down to my skin, stuck my bony chicken legs into the air, and said, in the exact tone of an exhausted cross-town bus driver, 'Turn off the telly and put your back to the plow, beast'?"
“You’re mocking me in my time of crisis. You have inflicted this hell upon me and I’m going to DIE like this and my tombstone will have YOUR FACE ETCHED UPON IT because you will have KILLED ME with your SAUSAGE FINGERS and MOCKED me on my DEATHBED-”
“Ye said ye wanted to stay on the sofa… didye want me to move you to the bed?”
“NO! When this is over you’re going to be sleeping on this couch for the rest of your LIFE, you giant OX-”
“So yer lying on my deathbed then.”
“I can’t believe this. I'm going to die because of your perversions and you're refusing to take my suffering seriously–”
“MY perversions??? That's rich. That's rich!”
"What? You're the one who got so enthusiastic about sticking it to me that the flared base slipped in!”
"YOU SHOULDNAE BOUGHT ONE WITH SUCH WEE BOLLOCKS! USELESS!"
"IT WAS ON SALE! NO ONE ASKED YOU TO GET THAT ENTHUSIASTIC!"
“YE WERE INTO IT!!! YE WERE INTO IT!!!”
“AND NOW IT’S IN ME AND WE’RE BOTH FUCKED!”
"CALM DOWN AND STOP CLENCHING-"
"DON’T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN!! I'M CALM! I'M UNCLENCHED!"
“JUST BREATHE!"
"YOU BREATHE! IT'S PRACTICALLY POKING ME IN MY LUNG!"
"OKAY!! Okay. Okay. Arthur… I think it might be time to consider alternative options.”
“We are NOT going to the A&E.”
“Oh, agreed.”
“Wh- you wouldn’t take me to the A&E?”
“I would! Do ye wanna go? Let’s fucken go!”
“No! You know ours is a teaching hospital! I REFUSE to have a gaggle of med students gather around my deathbed and stare into the depths of my fundament with their greasy, judgy, born post-2000 faces! YOU'RE the one who INSISTED on basting me like a Sunday roast-”
“Ye said ya LIKED the slipperiness of the new lube!!"
"-and now look where your decisions have brought us."
"We're getting off track. Arthur, listen to me. There's one thing we haven't tried yet."
"OH and you were saving it for a rainy day? A special occasion? The diamond jubilee?"
"I got up to four in you."
"I'm WELL AWARE-"
"What if. Five."
"..."
"Now hear me out-"
"Your hands are the size of garden trowels-"
"-I could get a better grip-"
"-and you want to rummage around in me and pluck it out like the last crisp in the bag? I've SEEN the poor crisp bags after you're done having your way with them-"
"-pull it right out, and then we'll worry nae more about it."
"-shredded! Like a fox went through the bins!"
"It's either this or the med students."
"..."
"..."
"You'll go slow."
"Slow as ye please."
"And you'll stop when I say."
"Aye, the very moment."
"Christ alive. Fine. Fine. Get in me."
"Alrigh', let me lube up–"
"TO YOUR FOREARM?"
"I've been staring into your asshole for almost two hours. I'm doin what I gotta do here. Alright, I'm goin in."
"FUCKING HELL don't START with four!"
"It's fine, look, they slid right in. There we go. And, breathe in-"
"Ugh–"
"Alrigh', just hold it there, keep breathing, you're doing so well–"
"Hah…hah… huff…"
"That's it. That's it. I'm gonna tuck my thumb in now, just keep breathing–"
"Christ–!"
"Don' tense up on me now! Easy, easy, let me in– oh."
"Alasdair…"
"Oh, sweetheart, I'm in ye. I'm all in. I can feel your heartbeat around me. Yer holding me so tight, yer burning up inside…"
"Wha… the fuck– are you getting hard right now?"
"I cannae help it, you're so open and soft and clenching so tight on me, maybe don't do tha'–"
"BECAUSE YOUR HAND IS UP MY ASS! Let me put my hand up your ass and see if you clench, you insufferable bastard!'
"God, I love ye."
"Wha...did you seriously– HOW DARE THE FIRST TIME YOU SAY THAT BE WHEN YOUR HAND IS UP MY ASS! I demand a do-over!!!"
"Every day, sweetheart, as much as ye like. Just a little deeper, let me in…
"Haa… haa…"
"Oh- I've found the end of it! Hold on now, you're doing so well, don't clench– I got it… I got it, hold on!"
"Guh- BE GENTLE!!"
"Sorry, sorry. Ok. Ok I've got a good grip. Gonnae gently draw it out. Breathe in–"
"Hah, hah… ha-ah!"
"Here it comes, breathe–"
"Alasdair– GAH!"
"It's out! It's out!"
"Haah…"
"I don't see any blood, I think yer alright. You're still open a little–"
"Dont look… -hic- don't– -sniff-"
"It's alright. It's alright. Just let it out. C'mere, lemme hold ye."
"-Sniff- No, you don't have to…"
"Ow, fuck, fucken elbows like scythes– there."
"I hate you."
"It's alright. I love ye."
"I…love you, too. Unfortunately."
"My condolences."
♡ The End ♡
#my fic#scoteng week 2024#scoteng#hws england#hws scotland#I'll polish this up and post to ao3 at some point#for now it's a Tumblr exclusive
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