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charliemwrites · 5 months

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1fur1 Price part 2

(Sorry if this isn’t, like, spectacular. It’s been a minute since I wrote for this au)

The house is getting an upgrade. Two wolf dogs was a cozy situation, but manageable. The addition of a third, especially one as big as Konig, was pushing it. Like, really pushing it.

Now that Skipper has adopted himself into the family…

Not that you mind, of course. Skipper has been a bit of a blessing in furry disguise. You know that “Alpha Dog” dynamics aren’t an actual Thing with wolves, but if they were, you think Skipper would be it.

He must have some sort of shepherd in his blood because he wrangles the rest of the boys masterfully. They spend too long in the yard, he’s barking and nipping and rounding them up. Johnny’s being too insistent about “sharing” your food, he’s inserting himself between you two. Ghost and Johnny get rambunctious, he’ll tolerate it for a couple minutes but then he’s breaking it up with a grumble — especially if they’re acting up inside.

You appreciate the help.

It’s not that the boys don’t listen to you. They do! With almost perfect obedience. But it can still be overwhelming to keep an eye on everyone all the time.

“Oh darling, why is it always you?” you sigh, scratching at Konig’s chin. Receive a whine in return.

Your poor sensitive guy. Stepped on a bee in the yard, it seems. The vet cooed over him, gave him some meds, and now he’s all but collapsed in an anxiety-exhausted heap by the fireplace.

Johnny is pacing behind you, making upset noises and nosing at your elbow.

“I know you’re worried, bud,” you soothe over your shoulder. “He’s alright.”

You’re working a sock over Konig’s bandages so that he doesn’t pick at them. Johnny takes that as an invitation to insert himself into the mix, bumping into your shoulder hard. Your hand pushes into konig’s paw as you catch your balance and he yelps. The noise surprises you, scares you, hands jerking back.

Skipper is on him in an instant, teeth on his scruff and yanking him away from you and Konig. For once, Johnny resists, yelping and whining crying.

“Jesus, enough!” You raise your voice a bit to be heard over all the canine yelling. Get a hand in Skipper’s scruff and give him a shake. “Release.”

He does, though not without an indignant growl, twisting around to glare at you. You didn’t even know dogs could glare with so much indignation.

“What are you gonna do, bite me?” you challenge, hand still buried in his fur. “Grow up.”

You turn to Johnny, who’s making a great show of looking pathetic, tail down and ears back.

“Got to bed,” you instruct, pointing with your other hand to the cushion Ghost is on. Those two are thick as thieves, you’re sure Johnny will feel better after some cuddles. Sure enough, Johnny drags his feet over to ghost, who grumbles as he makes room for the other dog.

You let Skipper go, who makes a big scene of shaking off. But he doesn’t go making trouble with Johnny, so you let him be. Which leaves Konig, who isn’t making eye contact with anyone.

“You alright, baby boy?” you croon. He licks your offered hand.

You manage to finish getting the sock on in peace, dropping a kiss to the scar on his forehead.

“My little trooper, good boy,” you murmur.

With him settled, you sit back with a sigh. Skipper is sitting, looking mighty offended. You groan.

“I’m sorry, honey,” you offer, extending a hand to him. “I was just stressed and all that fussing freaked me out. I know you were just trying to help.”

A long, long look at your palm. And then he sighs and sets his chin in your hand. You waste no time scritching along his jaw, coaxing him closer until you can leave kisses all over his muzzle and forehead.

“Big strong boy,” you coo, grinning into his ears when you see his tail sweeping slowly back and forth. Like he doesn’t want you to notice. “Such a good helper. Thank you, handsome.”

Peace restored, you settle onto the couch until dinner time.

So yes, four wolf-hybrids is pushing it on space.

—

You’re being minded.

It would be funnier if your dog wasn’t better at taking care of you than you are.

“You must have been in service dog training or something,” you muse, accepting the pill bottle from Skipper’s mouth. “Someone wanted you to work.”

And work he does.

If it’s not helping you keep the boys in line, it’s patrolling the yard with Ghost. Or nudging you to eat at mealtimes. Or putting you to bed. Hes a busy boy, hardly ever settles on the couch with the rest at night for snuggle time.

And when you do strong arm him into it, his ears are perked at every little noise, ready to protect.

There’s also this. The bringing you meds. (You try not to think about how he managed to get into the cabinet. Maybe you left them out on the counter?) Or sometimes he picks up things you’ve dropped, like pens or keys or even your phone.

It’s sweet, but you worry he’s bored. When you do buy him enrichment toys though, he gives them a perfunctory sniff, then leaves them for one of the others. (Johnny in particular loves the treat puzzles.) So you figure he’s stimulated enough, considering bored dogs usually tear into anything and everything.

“You know I’m supposed to take care of you right?” You tease, patting his big, sturdy side. “I take care of everyone here. You’re my boys.”

Skipper snorts and sits down, watching you, eyes pinging between your face and the pills. You huff, amused despite yourself.

“Alright, alright! Rude mutt.”

A little “boof” — agreement or offense? You amuse yourself with anthropomorphizing his noises while you chug water with your meds.

“See? Done. Ta-da!” You say when they’re done.

Another “boof” and then he’s trotting off. Pauses to give you a significant look. You check the time. Right, it’s lunchtime. Best to take meds with food anyway.

“I’m coming,” you groan, shuffling after him.

All the dogs are waiting for you in the kitchen, big eyes and perked ears.

“Look at you lot,” you laugh, dropping a scratch to Ghost’s head as you pass. “What is this, an intervention. I’m not giving you guys enough peanut butter?”

Skipper ignores you, taking his usual place at the entrance to the kitchen. A good vantage point to keep an eye on you and the rest of the house. He only accepts a little bit of shared food after everyone else gets a bite. You hum as you consider all of them, crammed into your kitchen because they’re a clingy lot.

“Might be time for a move, guys,” you sigh. “Or maybe another story.”

You glance at the ceiling with dread. Either way, you’re not looking forward to it.

Main Story | Price pt.1 | Gaz

Masterlist

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #woof woof au #1fur1 #john price #Simon Riley #johnny mactavish #konig

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andhumanslovedstories · 5 months

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Hey so your post about pain management as a bedside nurse is so important to my own nursing practice that I've considered printing it out so I can have it to hand all the time. So thanks for that. Also, how do you deal with assignments that are busy enough that pain management is harder than it should be? I'm coming up on two years as a nurse and I feel like I take it personally when I am too busy to adequately manage my patients pain. I'm also coming from a newly unionized hospital where the ratios are still horrendous (I do 1:10 on med surg) and I'm hoping once we can enforce our staffing grids it'll be better but idk I'm burning out and I love my job so much and I really respect your nursing philosophy? I guess. Sorry for the word vomit it's been a crazy shift.

I've been trying to think of how to answer this since I got it. It's just such a horrendous ratio. With ten patients a shift, that's like six minutes an hour for each in a fantasy world where there's no charting and everything is exactly where you need it to be. I feel like I don't have great insight into this because the most med surg patients I've had assigned is five. Ten patients to one nurse is just a raw deal for everyone. Like christ no wonder you feel like you're burning out! I'll give you what thoughts I have and hopefully other people can chime in if they have suggestions. But that's such a hard patient load.

When I've been super swamped, I've found that's when being really explicit about your thinking with the patient helps. Like if I have to dash into a room and then dash back out, I'll make sure the board is updated with the next medication time and that the patient knows when the medication is going to kick in. I'll also provide call light parameters. I have a lot of success telling people, "the med should be doing something by 5:30. If I haven't checked in with you by then, and the pain is unchanged or barely changed, hit your call light and we'll try the next step. Also hit your call light if you feel any sudden change, like now you're nauseated or you have a headache or the type of pain changes or something just feels very wrong. Is there anything you need before I step out of the room?"

I like to be explicit about when to call me because I think there's two directions call light usage can go wrong: someone calls all the time, or someone never calls. With someone who calls all the time, I find that telling them when I'll be back and that I want them to call me if I'm not takes away some of that anxiety that can causes some people to call frequently. Often those patients are afraid that if they aren't on the call light, they're gonna get ignored.

For the other type of patient, the one that doesn't call, I want to make explicit that it's GOOD AND NORMAL TO CALL YOUR NURSE WHEN YOU HAVE SYMPTOMS. We've all had that patient at the end of shift who goes, "btw the gnawing pain in my leg is now a 10/10" and you're like "what gnawing pain sir?? you've literally never mentioned it before now?? I don't have any meds for that lemme page super quick????" These patients can get into pain crises easily because they don't ask for help until something is unbearable. In addition to pain crisis bad, it takes a lot more time to deal with something unbearable than it does to deal with something uncomfortable.

On that note, are you spending your very limited time efficiently? To me, that actually means spend more time talking with patients, at least up front. Manage expectations, make sure people know what to expect. Having conversations with patients that are like, "You just had surgery, it's not gonna happen that we get you completely painless. We want to get you to a manageable pain level that allows you to do whatever it is you most want to do this shift." (For me on nights, that's usually sleeping at least a little, but sometimes the realistic goal you make together is that you will feel at some point better than you feel right now.) "You have this medication scheduled, and you have this one available every X hours when your pain is severe. Is there anything you know that helps you deal with pain?"

Also establish if patients want to be woken up for certain prn medications or if they're sleeping, to let them sleep. With some patients, I will advise them to get woken up for pain medication because I know that they're going to need consistent control to avoid a crisis. (Crises take so much time!)

When I'm crunched for time, I'm fond of bringing in an ice pack and being like "if it works, great, if it doesn't, just take it off, either way here it is." Sometimes I'll do the same with a warm blanket. If I know my patient needs to take pills, I'll bring a cup of water with me into the room. If there's a basic prn like melatonin or tylenol that I think they might want, I'll pull them in advance. If the patient doesn't want them, I return them next time I'm in the med room. (Obviously, don't do this with controlled substances. It's super easy to forget to return them, and not returning opioids is one of those whoopsies people get fired over.)

Decision making takes time. Walking to go get stuff takes time. I want to save the time it takes to assess if the patient needs those things and then walk off to fetch them by just having the things already. If your tightest resource is time, be liberal with resources you can spare. If you're stuck with a patient, do you have anyone you can delegate a prn med pass to? Do you know how to do the absolute minimum charting you need to? Do you have flushes and alcohol wipes and whatever other most common things you need? And since you can't hoard time, if you've got some to spare, ask yourself if there is anything you can do now that will save you time later. If you have five free minutes now and an incontinent patient, getting them up to the bathroom now can save you from taking the time for incontinence care and a bed change later on when they've also sundowned and decide they hate everything but most of all you.

So much of this answer I realize is investing as much time upfront as you can, which I realize is so hard when you are so busy. It sucks immensely that prepping takes much less time than not being prepared does when you don't always have time to prep. Plus when you invest that time to pain plan with patients and do small preventative interventions, I think it also provides some psychological comfort that helps with pain. You're letting them know you're invested and you care and you have a plan, even if you don't have all the time you'd like. That can mean better pain control, which can mean needing to spend less time in that room overall, meaning you can save six whole minutes at some point and maybe even, if we're feeling crazy, get a chance to indulge in that greatest of indulgences: just a real leisurely on-shift piss.

#nursing tag #i hope this helps at all i know how much it sucks to end a shift like 'cool. i didn't help my patients. feel great about that.'#it sucks when you don't have enough time to take care of people because you have too many people to take care of #anyway also thank you re: pain post compliment. and also thank you re: getting to talk about pain mgmt again #marge simpson holding potato voice: i just think [nursing process and symptom management] is neat!

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the-s1lly-corner · 6 months

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Caine and kinger x reader with ADHD

Caine and Kinger x reader w/ ADHD

yahoo!! gonna knock out some requests today !! this is gonna be based off of my own experiences btw !! not much else i can think to put in this authors note so! ill just get on with it note from the future, little longer than i intended but thats mostly because admin started relating TOO much wuh-oh

CAINE:

caine is honestly really good about keeping you on track when theres a task at hand. i dont know about you, but i tend to wander about when im working on something; to check on something else repeatedly then coming back to what needs to be done and just go back and forth.(shit im even doing it now, the getting up and checking on things thing even though i know the thing is fine/complete) i like to think that caine would be pretty okay at making sure you get the thing you need/want to do done! i dont think theres meds in the digital world, i mean yeah sure you can ask for them but since theyre digital theyre not going to actually. do anything. but lets say in a hypothetical au where this all takes place in the real world and caine is a real person, he would make sure you take them consistently and on time. honestly this hc isnt really part of the ask but; i generally like to think that caine likes to follow routines and schedules as closely as he can... maybe its the ringmaster thing since hes tasked with keeping everything running but... shrugs

very supportive when you make a small mistake in something (like this is just a general thing, though) and isnt too obnoxious with trying to hold or regain your attention is something happens to the side and steals it away. very patient and polite with it, i think

last minute addition because it hit me like a sack of bricks. time blindness. fucking time blindness. you know how i mentioned that caine is good at keeping you on track? i think he would be good with helping you out with that, at least some of it. mostly logging your activities and him keeping an eye on the time (which he already does so its not like an extra habit he needs to pick up.. though if it werent he would pick it up in a heartbeat. literally anything for you, he loves you a lot)

KINGER:

honestly he might start to mimic your stims and fidgets! he doesnt mean to mock you, no i just think he would start to reflect your actions after spending most of his time around you to make sure you're okay! while caine keeps you on track, kinger is likely to go with you when you wander off to check/do something else. really unless its something time sensitive or really important is when hes going to start outwardly reassuring you that the other thing is fine. honestly, in an au with the real world i was originally going to say he would have a chance of forgetting to help remind you/ask if you took your meds (if you take them) but i think he would take stuff like that way too seriously to even DARE forget. like yeah sure you're not going to d1e if you forget to take them for a single day but still. he'd probably be like this with any meds tbh, so if you're prone to forgetting youll be fine as long as you have kinger around! gibes you pillows for fidget stuff, if you are feeling restless. or perhaps even goes on a walk with you around the circus grounds. like idk about yall, or if this is something completely unrelated, but my legs HURT when i sit too still. like down to the bone, if i dont get up every now and then its agony; sleeping is hell and on days its worse than others (like im talking sometimes i need to be in near constant movement) (also jerky arms and legs) (anyways)

also very polite with returning your attention to where it needs to be but honestly given that kinger himself is shown to space out at least twice in the pilot i think sometimes you guys both get side tracked and struggle to remember and/or get back into the flow of what you were originally doing

ponders

tldr; caine keeps you more on track with schedules whereas kinger embraces your flow a little more but both are respectful of things and dont really make you feel less than + remind you to take care of yourself

#tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #digital circus x reader #caine x reader #kinger x reader

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nothorses · 1 year

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As an atheist who frequently despairs at the way progressive tumblr talks about us, I've loved reading your recent posts on the subject. You've articulated some stuff that bugged me but I could never quite describe, like how people think of atheism as some broken remnant of christianity rather than a valid worldview on its own.

But there's one thing you've emphasized repeatedly that I just don't think I can agree with: the idea that other people being confidently convinced of their beliefs means that we should act less confident of ours. Yes, I recognize that most religious people are at least as confident in their faiths as I am in my non-belief. But people are confidently wrong all the time, about all kinds of stuff. When anti-vaxxers, flat earthers, climate change deniers, homeopaths, astrologers, or psychics are confidently wrong, we don't take it as a reminder to humble ourselves in the face of disagreement, especially when it comes time to make decisions based on the facts at issue. Sure, we usually don't preach about it to strangers, maybe we decide it's not worth losing a relationship over, maybe we don't bring it up at thanksgiving, but we don't throw our hands up and declare it a tie because both sides wrote down an answer.

Like, let's be clear, this is a question of fact, just like any pseudoscience or conspiracy theory. The supernatural does not exist. Humankind has spent the entirety of our species' history looking for it, we would all desperately like for any of it to be real, and if there was anything there to find, we would've found something by now.

So why does the fact that a lot of people are confidently wrong about that mean that the ones who aren't have to act less confident than everyone else?

It's not that we need to be "less confident" in our beliefs; I have seen people argue that you can't prove a negative or whatever, there's stuff we don't understand yet, so we can't actually claim atheism is Definitely Correct. and like. I fundamentally disagree with that, actually. it's not something I want to get in arguments on tumblr about (can you fucking imagine) but I think the logical conclusion of "you can't prove a negative" is not "therefore, anything you can't prove isn't true is equally as valid". it's that demanding people to prove a negative is unreasonable, and the onus of proof in fact falls on the people claiming a positive.

this is also how things work when someone on tumblr claims I'm a sex freak who hates women and is also a TERF: it's not my responsibility to prove that whatever unhinged accusations some rando on the internet comes up with aren't true. it's their responsibility to prove that they are.

but here's the thing: it's not about who's right, here. that doesn't actually matter.

there are two things you need to consider here:

1. How likely this person is to listen to you

2. Whether the thing they believe actually has a notable impact on anyone else.

Anti-vaxxers believe something that directly and adversely impacts other people. Climate change deniers also do. Flat-earthers conceivably could be harmless, but the roots and execution of that ideology lead to a lot of harmful, antisemitic conspiracy theories that do harm to real life people.

But like, I don't care if Cindy from class thinks astrology is real. I don't actually have to worry about that unless she starts trying to discriminate against people based on their star signs (looking at you, white queer 20-somethings looking for roommates in Seattle).

I don't care if my mom thinks teatree oil is gonna help her... idk, whatever she thinks teatree oil does. She also takes the meds she needs and sees a doctor about stuff, and the addition of teatree oil isn't hurting her. I worry even less about adult strangers making medical decisions for themselves; that's their business, and their choice. I'll take issue with it if they deprive anyone else of necessary medical care on that basis.

#1 is harder to consider, I think. A lot of us want it to be the case that others will listen to us, and a lot of us want to believe that if our arguments are good enough and we're good enough at it, we can get through to anyone.

That's a fantasy. A very silly, very egotistical fantasy likely to drive you to frustration, and ultimately to isolation. The fact of the matter is that it's rarely about you; people decide to listen or not, and there's nothing you can do about it if they decide not to listen. Pushing the issue doesn't change that.

When people accuse me of unhinged shit on tumblr, I don't take it upon myself to prove a negative. I might address those claims in some way, and remind people to get proof of the positive first, but only if it gets to be enough of an issue that I feel I need to. Ultimately, I know the people making those claims don't care, and aren't listening; the only reason I address them at all is if they have an adverse impact on me or others.

People who believe in things we don't believe exist... well, first, they often do believe they have proof. That's just not a basis you're gonna win an argument about that on. And, also, they have no intention of listening to you- and that's fine. As long as their beliefs aren't causing them to hurt others, nobody needs to worry about it. And if they do, we can worry about the impact and the things directly relating to it instead of trying to convince every religious person with flaws to just stop being religious.

Some atheists are assholes because of what they believe. That's not a fact we can ignore, either.

At the end of the day, the goal is just to share space with others. We don't need everyone to agree with us, we don't need everyone to believe the same things, and it's a good idea, in fact, to look at those other beliefs/religions/etc. and see value in them- the value they add to the lives of those who are a part of them, and the value they add to others' through those people.

At a certain point, it doesn't matter if something is Objectively True. Oftentimes we don't know, or can't know- but that doesn't matter either. The obsession with objective truth is very much a white Western one, and it's done a lot of harm to people- entire cultures, even.

You can't be an econ major looking at this through the lens of hard numbers; you need to factor in human life, compassion, and context. It's not about who's right; it's about being a good person.

#atheism

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bloggedanon · 9 months

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TOY COMMISSIONS ARE OPEN. DM IF INTERESTED, OR IF YOU JUST WANT TO DONATE.

Alright, listen up, folks.

My hours have been reduced to nothing for months now on account of disabilities I'm trying to get treated for, I got a med bill I wasn't expectin' in the mail, and now I'm woefully far from bein' able to pay for my upcoming psychiatrist appointment, which I have to pay for by the 24th of this month. This one is really important because there's a strong probablility this one will be the one to prescribe me some meds that just might enable me to be able to acually take care of myself (read: actually function at all) for the first time in my life. I'm prolly gonna need like $300 to cover the appointment. I ain't askin' y'all to help me for free, however.

I can sew together little pillow monster things. They have zipper mouths and button eyes. They're hand-sewn, from a pet-free home.

This is my oldest (and smallest) example. about 7" wide and tall. The ones I'm proposing to sell will be about 9" wide and tall.

Here are the buttons and (9) zippers I have available for this endeavor. (Sorry about the lighting.) Note the loops on the zipper pulls for easier zipping.

Uhh, those are soda can pull tabs in the corner. Ignore that, I'm procrastinating on working on a project.

In terms of fabric, I have fleece and flannel of various colors. 'S all preshrunk in a washer and dryer, but I don't have a good way to showcase or store fabric other than shoving it all into one plastic bag. That aside, here's the flannel I have:

(Dark blue, light blue, teal, white, space [small amount], and scales [purple, blue, and green scales, small amount])

And here's the fleece:

(Purple, red, orange, and black [small amount])

Note how I have more of some colors in one material or another than in others. This means certain body surface colors may not be possible due to material limitations. I have a whole bunch of thread colors, and just an overall abundance of thread tho 👍

These are custom made to order, and the production is paid in advance. You can do custom colors (body, front vs back color, the color of the inside of the mouth, whether or not you want it to have a tongue, number / color of eyes) and you can POTENTIALLY do other customizations. (Want it to have a ridge on its back like a cartoon dinosaur? Want me to give it horns? Want me to try to figure out how tassles work? Want it to have floppy, doofy, cow-lookin' ears? [I recommend fleece for these kinds of additions, trust me on this one.]) Shape alterations mmmmaayyyyy be possible, but that's pretty dubious. Bear in mind that any customizations / additions will likely drive priduction time wayyy up, and there are things I might not be able to do.

Shipping will be paid seperately, and at the time of shipping. I can't really afford to cover shipping, but also I have no earthly idea how to calculate shipping. I have a tiny scale at home now that I can use to weigh the finished product, but that's about it. These are gonna have to be personally taken to the post office, which means a lot of walking. I dunno, we'll figure it out.

This is all being said and shown in the interest of maximum transparency with this stuff. You will recieve update images with progress on your little monster dude, and you're gonna have to give feedback on the button placements and angles before I sew 'em on so that way I know I've got the look you want on it.

Payments are done over Paypal.

Base price: $35 USD + shipping

Comm slots open: 9

Customizations and additions will add to the price, but the extent to which it happens is (sort of) negotiable. Most customizations are going to be (sort of) experimental on my end, and hand sewing takes forever, especially when you have "everything magically is really hard and takes too long" disease.

If I hit my goal, I'll stop accepting donations. If all 9 commission slots are taken, I will update this post with a good ol'-fashioned pinned reblog and close commissions AND donations. Note that I can only work on one pillow monster at a time, and that it's on a first-come-first-serve basis. If I'm working on one and you want to commission one, I'll let you know and ask if you wanna wait for it. You'll get a number (1-9) to signify whose order I need to do next.

In the meantime, I need to go pop out and sell some blood plasma, probably. 🤡

#commisions open #comms #commisions #toy commissions #mutual aid #(?)#long post

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satans-helper · 6 months

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Reaching for Stardust - Part XIV

Read Looking for Space here / Playlists / Read RFS on Wattpad

Word Count: ~3000

Warnings: sexy time ;)

---

Indeed Josh was desperate–though thankfully not literally dying–to get home. With the green light from his doctor given that his heart rate improved and the antibiotics were in full swing, I gathered him into my car and we headed back to the apartment where his brothers still were. My tires crunched over salt and leftover snow as we drove into the monochromatic gray of our little world, the heat blasting over both of us but really so high just to keep Josh warm. He looked better–warm color had returned to his face and he actually appeared to be pretty well-rested despite not having slept in his own bed.

“You’re feeling better?” I asked when we hit a red light.

“Yes, mama. Certainly better,” Josh told me, then sniffed a little. “Thanks for doing all of this.”

“Anything for you.” I reached over to squeeze his knee. “I’m so glad you’re on the mend. I don’t want to bring you to the hospital ever again. Not for an illness, anyway.”

“I’ll do my best. What about you? I don’t want you to get sick either.”

“So far, so good.” I hit the gas again. “Maybe the universe knows both of us can’t be sick at the same time. But the boys are gonna stay today and tonight to help out and keep us company. They were coming up Thursday anyway. Might as well stick around now, right?”

“That’s good that they spent the night.”

“It helped. As soon as I got home without you, it felt intolerable.”

Josh let out a dry laugh. “I love you.”

I looked at him for a moment before I had to make a turn. “I love you more.”

In my peripheral vision, I could see Josh stare out the window at the snowy streets and say, “Impossible.”

Back home we were greeted by loud, excited jeers of triumph over Josh’s road to recovery as well as a few bags of sick staples–more soup and broth, more Gatorade, a package of those little boxes of fruit juice, some zinc, cough drops and a big box of Rocket Pops, which Josh immediately tore into. He plopped himself down on the couch with the Rocket Pop in his mouth while Jake sat down next to him, Sam paced the living room while monologuing about how disgusting hospitals were and Danny helped me put everything away.

“You sure you guys wanna crash here again?” I asked him while he shoved the box of popsicles next to our other half-empty box of popsicles. “Don’t get me wrong–I love it. But I bet it feels pretty cramped. You should all be sleeping in beds.”

“We’ve agreed to stay here tonight,” Danny told me, balling up one of the empty plastic bags. “After that we’re gonna go back home.”

“Aw. Sam will miss you.”

“We live like, three blocks away from each other,” Danny replied with a little laugh. “So do you think Josh will be able to go to Thanksgiving?”

“I don’t know. Guess we’ll see.” I lifted a can of chicken noodle soup. “For now, this will have to do.”

Jake ended up playing nurse more than I did–he spent the entire day doting on his twin, making sure he was taking his meds, feeding him, keeping him hydrated and comfortable. That gave me a chance to catch up on work, though Sam and Danny were distracting in their own right no matter what I did to try and carve out my own space. It was nice though, the coming together of everyone again for a prolonged period of time in a home base, even if that had been instigated by Josh getting sick. What mattered was that he was fully on the mend and we were all spending time together, and I found myself no longer thinking about death but rather thinking about how it might be possible to have this all the time. A commune was always sort of a joke idea, but couldn’t it be real? Why couldn’t we be tied together like one big, happy family? The boys had had that for many years. I was a newer addition. I wanted it to stay like that. I was pretty sure they all did too. Being apart made no sense and I got caught up in this fantasy while I tried to stay tied to my computer screen. Ultimately, no other place in the world felt as good as home did.

Things winded down even further after we all watched a movie. Jake, Danny and Sam took their respective couch and sleeping bag beds in the living room while I got some long-awaited alone time with Josh, who seemed absolutely delighted to be back in our bed. He snuggled back against the pillows in a clean set of pajamas–the fleece set patterned with puppies in Santa hats that I’d bought him two Christmases prior–looking cherubic and adorable and more healthy than he had at the hospital.

Then he wiggled ferociously, hips shimmying on the mattress with an abundance of suppressed energy that finally could resurface. I smirked, standing in front of our dresser with my own pair of clean pajama pants waiting in my hands, and asked, “What’s up, buttercup?”

“I feel,” Josh began, bringing one hand down to his crotch. He grabbed himself, groping in a very uncharacteristic way that completely captured my attention. “Pent up.”

“Yeah, I bet,” I said, my attention drifting from changing my clothes to getting Josh out of his. “It’s been days since you…got off. Right?”

Josh nodded, palming himself through those silly fleece pants. It was one of those times where his almost innocent-seeming, unfathomably adorable nature butted up against the more robust biological male sex drive; how fascinating it was to see the mingling of those sides as often as I did.

“Yeah. Days,” he said. “I think I need some help.”

I stepped over to the side of the bed, bending down to pet back the curls that had fallen down past his ears. His hair was growing out just a little bit. I secretly wished he’d let it all grow out completely and return to the wild, messy free set of long, sunkissed curls that I just loved running my fingers through. He looked up at me with the softest eyes, the dark, shiny irises reflecting the dim night table lamp, and I thought back briefly to the bachelorette party.

“I have an idea,” I told him, already retreating to grab one of the gift bags that was still sitting in the corner of our bedroom. One peek inside allowed me to see that bottle of edible body oil–raspberry-vanilla flavored. Questionable, but certainly worth trying. With that now in my hand, I swiveled to face Josh again: “You should get naked.”

Josh gave me his best puppy dog eyes. “No foreplay?”

I shook the bottle, the wet, gloopy sound making him perk up. “This is all foreplay, baby.” Before I got ahead of myself, I paused. “I should get a towel.”

I slipped out of the bedroom to the hall to grab one of our least desirable towels from the linen closet, then peered further down the hall to check on the boys–Danny and Sam were chatting, the TV blinking in front of them, and Jake was lounging beneath one of our extra throw blankets, the book in front of his face illuminated by the end table lamp. We were all basking in different lights tonight, I thought as I crept back to the bedroom, but I thought my Starshine was by far the brightest.

But he could also be the loudest. I grabbed the little fan from our closet and set it up on the dresser next to the humidifier for some extra white noise, pointing it away from the bed, and motioned for Josh to move to the side so I could lay the towel down. He got up entirely and stripped down to nothing, and I watched, soaking him up with my eyes. True aging hadn’t exactly hit either of us yet–sure, a few new, at first odd-looking lines had grown into our faces, our tolerance for certain foods had changed, hair grew differently–more slowly, it seemed–metabolism slowed down just a touch. More than anything, I could see that some of his juvenile, boyish looks had developed. But true aging was far off, I felt, and it was even further away for Josh, who continued to embody such youth and vitality despite getting older that it sometimes felt as though getting old would never touch him.

Again, I thought as I dropped to my knees in front of him while he laid back on the bed, almost like he was immortal. That’s a big part of why him being in the hospital was so scary–because until that moment, Josh had seemed completely, totally untouched and eternal.

I almost asked if he really felt up for a “full release,” but he was already hard and looking very eager, thighs spread and his erection firmly pressed against his belly. But I did remind him of one thing after I squeezed a bit of the oil into my hands: “You’ll need a shower after this. This stuff feels sort of sticky.”

“That’s okay,” he said, voice still a little hoarse but still an improvement from a few days prior. He laid back, propped up on his elbows, watching while I brought my hands to his calves. When my hands slid up to his thighs, he laid back flat, stretching his arms up over his head. “Nice and slow seems right. I’m beat.”

“I bet you are.” I broke contact to get more oil–it smelled okay, like the artificial raspberry I was used to from candy and a touch of sugary-sweet fake vanilla, but I was still a bit apprehensive about the taste. I worked my hands around his thighs, massaging gently and intentionally ignoring his most sensitive part; his quads were strong, perpetually taut, and his inner thighs were delightfully soft, his skin pliable as I worked my hands over them. I leaned forward to lick–mostly to try the taste, really, which ended up being a primarily bitter, fake fruit flavor. It made me pause for a second, which Josh noticed, looking down curiously. I slid my tongue between my teeth, making a sour face, but the after-taste was actually less unpleasant.

“How is it?” he asked, still keeping his hands behind his head. I wasn’t sure everyone got to see it in action, but there were plenty of instances in which Josh could exhibit impressive patience.

“Not terrible?” I replied, then finally wrapped my hand around his cock, hot and hard within my palm, and Josh laid his head back down. The oil did serve as a solid lubricant, I could give it all the credit there–the slide was slick and easy but I went slow, massaging his thigh and up to his hip with my other slippery hand. I ran my thumb over the little slant of bone, fingers splayed over his side, then back down and around to squeeze his ass as best I could. It didn’t take much effort until Josh was whimpering–a little too loudly. I squeezed a little harder in warning and said, “Best to be quiet, babe. They’re not asleep out there.”

“I’m too pent up!” Josh replied in a frenzied yet hushed huff, thrashing his arms. The whole thing made me laugh but I slid my hand back to his inner thigh, massaging again, and he stilled with a silent nod, pressing his lips together tight. So I carried on, petting his leg and up to his side while I stroked him, studying the slight curves of his body and the heat that was radiating from everywhere. Thankfully, however, it wasn’t a fever anymore. It was pure arousal, all those hormones festering for too long in that beautiful form.

“You’re still the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” I told him with complete intention, my eyes grazing from his tense neck down to the quivering belly. “Even when you have pneumonia.”

“You don’t get to talk if I can’t,” Josh replied, abs tightening while his cock twitched in my hand.

I laughed softly. “Fine, fine.” I brought my face lower while I pushed one of his legs to the side a bit. “Fair’s fair, I guess,” I added before I pressed my mouth to his inner thigh, beginning with a kiss, carrying on with a long lick and ending with a bite. With Josh holding back another whimper that I could see caught in his throat, I decided to go all in, swiping my tongue up his length while I gently squeezed his balls.

It still caught me by surprise how abruptly he came. I pulled back just in time to let Josh’s abdomen catch a bit of the release, the rest caught in my fist while I kept pumping him and, throughout it, he was biting his lip to keep himself as quiet as possible. His fists clenched the sheets until his knuckles were white, every muscle in his body visibly tightening and then contracting. He thrashed a bit to tell me no more, so I released him and wiped my hand on the towel beneath him.

I sat by his side, placing my cleaner hand atop his chest. “You should really breathe, though. For the sake of your lungs.” His heartbeat was strong, though–I could feel it beneath my palm.

Josh let out a long breath through his nose, then covered his mouth with his arm to cough a bit. “Sorry,” he said, sounding more spent than he did earlier, but in a good way. “Wow. Alright, darling, I definitely needed that.” He looked down at himself and groaned. “But now I do need to hop in the shower again and I really don’t feel like moving.”

“If I could carry you, I totally would,” I told him, bending down to give him a long kiss, sickness be damned. “Want me to run you a bath?”

Josh’s hand gently clasped the back of my head, keeping me pinned in front of his face. “Only if you take the bath with me.”

I suddenly remembered the three other people in our apartment. “Maybe we should just make it a quick shower,” I said to Josh, looking behind myself at the bedroom door. “We’re not the only ones here tonight.”

Josh huffed dramatically. “They can hold their piss for a little while.” He rolled out from beneath me and got on his feet, taking the dirty towel and tossing it into our laundry basket, then planted his hands on his hips as he stood in front of the door. “Come on, love.”

I relented and, in the bath, I leaned back against the tub and held Josh between my legs. “I hate to say it, but you might need to skip Thanksgiving this year,” I told him as I rubbed soap beneath his armpits. “Do you think your parents will be really upset?”

“They completely expected me to miss it. My mom cried more than you did.”

“Well, I’m not surprised. It’s gotta be hard to see her baby in the hospital, even if you’ve been there like a hundred times before.”

“Not a hundred.”

“Close enough. Too many times.” I ran one hand up to the back of his neck, massaging a little, and gave him the reminder of, “You’re not allowed to go back to the hospital ever again.”

Josh laughed, turning his head to look over his shoulder at me. “What if I need to?”

“You won’t. This was enough for a lifetime.” I plunged my hands down in front of him before bringing the soapy water up to his chest, running them over his pecs and shoulders; he hummed contently and I moved my touch beneath his arms. The scrubbing motion of my fingers and palms made him start to laugh and wiggle, water splashing around us. I put my chin on his shoulder, turning to nibble at his ear: “Ticklish?”

Through more uncontrollable laughter, Josh said, “Yes, you know this!” He wiggled some more, slippery hands flying to my wrists. “Play nice.”

“But I love hearing you laugh like that,” I told him, although I did, after another second, cease the torment. I nuzzled into his neck, closing my eyes. “Even though I’m sure the boys have a very clear idea of what we’re doing now.”

“Spooning in the bath? They’re imaginations could never,” Josh said, flicking water away from himself to let it splash against the tiled wall. “So, doll–what’s next on our list for the wedding? I have to admit I haven’t been thinking about it much these past few days.”

I resumed rubbing his shoulders and up to the nape of his neck. “Me either. That’s been weirdly kind of nice. But I think we’re settled for a while. We finalized the cake order so that’s good to go. Everything else is set.”

“Except the ‘couple’s shower,’” Josh reminded me, tilting his head back to try and meet my eyes.

“Yes, that. I’m glad we’re not just doing a bridal shower. So lame,” I said with a chuckle, twirling a damp curl between my fingers. “Not everything has to be so separate and weird. I need you there for that for sure.”

A brisk knock on the door made us both turn our heads. “Hey, lovebirds,” Sam called out. “Danny’s gotta piss so can you wrap up whatever it is you’re doing in there?”

“He can’t ask us himself, Sammy?” Josh asked with a laugh.

“He’s shy,” I reminded him, patting his shoulder. “Okay. Let’s get up.”

---

Tagging: @sparrowofrhiannon @starbuggie @lightsofthe-living-gvf @sanguinebats @gvfrry @clairesjointshurt @bizzielisteningtogreta @jjwasneverhere

If you'd like to be tagged in any of my fics, you can go here or DM me :)

#greta van fleet #gvf #josh kiszka #josh gvf #josh kiszka x reader #gvf fan fiction #jake kiszka #jake gvf #sam kiszka #sam gvf #danny wagner #danny gvf #rfs

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bluejaysandblackbats · 3 months

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Traveler's Guide to Yesterday

Fandom: DC Comics, Flashfam, Flash Rogues

Summary: Owen is stranded in his present (a time he's never been to) while traveling through the past in search of his soul mate. He needs a con artist's help to repair his timepiece and return to the past.

Chapters: 1/?

Characters: Owen Mercer, Axel Walker, Leonard Snart, Meloni Thawne, Evan McCulloch, Mark Mardon

Relationships: Owen Mercer/Axel Walker

Additional Tags: Time Travel AU, No Powers AU, Dysfunctional Family, Boys in Love, True Love, Soulmate, Con Artists, Strangers to Lovers, Partners in Crime, Romance, Amputee Axel Walker, Not Actually Unrequited Love

Chapter One: Med Pod

I woke up in a battered med pod, which meant something had gone horribly wrong. I pressed my hand against the glass, knocking it until I heard whirring from outside the machine. The incubation fluid spilled onto the floor, making a gelatinous noise as it hit the pavement. I shivered as the cool air blew against my skin. Someone removed the breathing apparatus, and I gasped, taking in the sour taste of their oxygen. I spilled out of the machine, naked and exhausted. I couldn't see. The med pod temporarily blinded me, but I could feel and hear everything around me. "I thought you fixed the drain in the old med pod," a man asked. His voice was deep and cold. Almost detached from his present state of affairs.

"I was gonna get to it but couldn't find the right parts. Couldn't make the pieces either... Not without boiling the gestation gel and the occupants inside. Get him a towel. He's probably freezing half to death," a younger, sardonic voice commanded.

"Don't get sharp with me, Kid... And his belongings better be accounted for when he's ready to leave," the older man warned. I felt a warm, rough fabric wrap around my bare skin, and I couldn't speak to tell him thank you. The words were lost on my tongue as my heart beat quickly. "Don't worry, Kid. Your senses'll come back in a few days or so... Old machine's busted," the older man reassured.

"Give him this before he gets sick," the younger voice warned.

I felt a gloved hand slip under my chin, tilting my head upward. "Open your mouth," the older man ordered gently. I obeyed and was immediately met with the taste of orange and corn syrup. It was a disgustingly viscous fluid that made me want to puke the second I tasted it, and the older man must've sensed that because he squeezed my nostrils shut. "Swallow... Swallow." He used the same tone a parent would for a difficult child.

"He couldn't spit that up if he tried, Len," the younger one reassured him.

"Just to be safe, I'll wait until he's got it down... All the stuff we found in this old med bay, and we couldn't scavenge some of the good meds," Len complained, "Axel, all this stuff is pond sludge."

"Pond sludge that saved his life. You're the one who wanted to keep the time fugitive," Axel muttered. Len let go of my nose, and I gasped for air.

"What makes you think he's a time fugitive? He might be somebody important," Len replied in my defense.

They were both right. I was a fugitive, but not necessarily a time fugitive. I had a bad habit of looking for love in all the wrong places. Having dalliances with men in times where it was outlawed. This last time, I thought it'd be it. I thought I'd found the one. Charming. Bookish. Blonde. Rich. He was perfect, and we got along pretty well for a few months. That was until the maid caught us, and he turned on me. His father fired a shot at me. That was the last thing I remembered. Pain. He betrayed me as if I was only a simple pleasure of the flesh. I could've understood it had he not convinced me otherwise. Had he not snuck into my bed at night to whisper poems in my ear or indulge in the smoke from my mouth while I smoked. He loved me... And that made his betrayal all the more raw.

I must've lost my senses because I woke up crying. This time, I was clothed in a fabric I'd never felt before. It was strange, yet comforting. I felt the pillows around me and soughed relief. "How long has it been since you stepped foot in your own time?" Axel asked.

Time sickness. It happened whenever time travelers made a drastic jump forward. I was experiencing my memories in real time while blacking out in my present. It was a lot like hallucinating, except the moments were real. It was the mind's way of skipping like a scratched CD.

I reached for Axel in the dark, and he squeezed my hand. His hand was smooth, artificially warm. Not like a glove. I let my fingers travel to his wrist, and he pulled away. "Do you want something to eat?" Axel asked. I nodded. I still couldn't speak. He opened a container, and I could smell the savory aroma of seafood. "It's all we have right now until I can get money for the repairs I did on the shop down the street."

He placed the cup and fork in my hands, and I bit into it, screwing up my face. "Squid's the only cheap meat we can get here now... Especially in this area," Axel explained. The texture was strange, but I couldn't see it. So, I ate.

But eating made me remember. Maine in nineteen-seventy-seven. I worked in a restaurant on the shore, and he was a regular customer. I tried to shake myself free from the time, but I was too deep into the memory. I could taste the clam bake and blueberry pie. I knew he wasn't the one but ignored all the signs. I slept on his boat, kicking myself in the morning for falling into bed with him again. He was wrong, but he felt so good.

Someone punched me, and I woke up. I shook my head, still in the dark. "It's two to this bed, buddy. Try to have a memory that doesn't make me wanna take a green med pac," Axel complained. I ran a hand over my face, embarrassed and flushed from my memory. I turned on my side and tried to sleep. "You must've jumped two hundred years forward when you got shot..."

My breath caught, and I started choking. Shot. It never once occurred to me that I got hit. Axel rubbed my back until I relaxed. Fever. The time sickness shifted, and I was no longer in and out of consciousness. I'd reached the physical illness phase. Unlike most illnesses, time sickness had to run its course. There wasn't a cure for it. That's why time travelers rarely returned to their own times. The jump was enough to have a man bedridden for weeks. I shivered and violently trembled as Axel threw blankets over me. There was nothing else he could do. It had to run its course.

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trans4hire · 5 months

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Since 2023 is coming to a close I thought I'd write out a little something to document where I'm at in my journey with being Trans as well as HRT.

So I started taking Estrogen and T-Blockers on June 7th 2023 (I couldve started a little earlier but I had cold feet for like a month)

For the first few months I really didn't notice alot. The two major changes I noticed was that my boobs were more sensitive (kinda like a bruise, where it doesn't hurt normally but if you press on it then it really hurts) and some very light tissue development underneath. The other change was that my libido had straight up died, I was a masturbate at least once a day on average kinda person and I was going weeks without it now. For a short bit there I actually thought I might've been Ace because I seriously had zero desire at all.

One side effect I didn't notice until a friend on the same meds told me about it was that I was peeing alot, which you'll see plenty of memes about, it's the Spironactolone, I hate it. I feel like a pregnant person, pee when I get somewhere and pee before I leave it's nuts.

Nowadays I'm starting to see some more changes, my boobs are a little more sensitive around the nipples, not a whole lot but before my nipples were nearly nervedead I swear. I dont cry super easily but I do cry on occasion and considering before I would go literal years without crying it's a step in the right direction.

My libido has also levelled out, I'm not super horny all the time but I'm more like every few days just for my health kinda attitude. It's also getting a little difficult to maintain erections without stimulation, I can get one no problem but if I stop stimulating it then it's gone pretty quick. I did also hear about nerve remapping and pressing a finger or a vibrator in the place right below your balls (taint I think some people call it? Perineum is the official word I believe) and I gave a light press there the other day and felt, something? Idk but I'm gonna try it out sometime.

My boobs are definitely growing and changing but sadly it's not very obvious since I kind of had boobs before, that's years of stress eating during middle school and high school for you 🙃

As for myself and my own personal journey, I felt for years now that I wanted to be Nonbinary, and that I fell firmly outside the gender binary. And I don't know what it was, but a little over a month ago I had a massive mental breakdown and during that time realized I wanted to be a girl, kinda, like 85% girl. Like I can still fantasize about like the "MLM" fantasy, like I'm the only male cheerleader and my boyfriend is the captain of the football team and he gets some guff for it but like low-key they're just jealous of how supportive I am of him and how in love we are and how happy we make each other (see what I mean? Still got some of that in my head)

I still haven't settled on any new labels since this is very new to me and I want to take my time and explore some options, there's new stuff all the time and you may find something that clicks big time.

So 2024 is looking up for me, gonna start trying out girlmode with some help (I literally have no idea what I'm doing) probably gonna pick out a new name cause while I like Raven I want something more fem.

Think that's about it, if I forgot anything I'll just reblog this with any additions but if it's been awhile I'll just make a new post. Love all you little Queers in my phone and I can't wait to see more of you all in 2024 💜

#transfem #mtf #amab #lgbt #trans4hire #trans #me #queer #hrt #estrogen

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tonysaintborgi · 1 year

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Hmm yeah I'm pretty sure local honey doesn't help with allergies, but I am friends with a beekeeper and he keeps me stocked with honey so I'm eating it all the time anyway!

I'm like out if medicine too which sucks. I had to take some severe cold meds in addition to my allergy meds cause I'm out of my normal stuff

no no it totally works cuz like if ur eating honey every day you're in better spirits which helps ur body ................. . don't tell me otherwise i need an excuse to go to the local market LMAO

shit's fuckin awful tho right like i wish the human body got a grip lmfao king you've lived through X many years and the floating tree cum has never actually hurt u can u get over urself already?? but then our immune system is like AAAAH HOLY SHIT THERE'S POLLEN OH FUCK TELL MY WIFE I LOVE HER CUZ WE'RE NOT GONNA SURVIVE about it

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horce-divorce · 10 months

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3 entire days of calling every shelter from Traverse City to Indiana and being told there's nowhere to leave my boyfriend's cats, and it's once again other queers who come to our rescue... We have to take the cats about 4 hours away, but they will be safe and with someone we know and trust.

I have to take care of a few things at home this weekend (very important kids bday party, getting my phone replaced, making sure the car is working) before we take the cats. We're gonna try to go grab what we can of Bel's things from the basement and pawn or donate the rest. On Monday I'll start calling housing commissions again about places we can apply for, and start looking for other ways to make money. There's a festival up here soon, maybe I can get some under the table work, but also I'm thinking it's probably officially time to make an Onlyfans...

Then we need to stealthify the car and make it more habitable for the 2 of us. Like right now it's fine to camp in but long-term it needs a lot. We're sleeping on horrible flat bed rolls that hurt my back and joints, so I need a foam pad for the car. And we desperately need a fan for ventilation, as well as shades for the windows and more screens for ventilation as well.

Considering the very real possibility that we may not be housed again by winter, we need to be ready to stealth camp wherever we can find a place to park. We've talked about traveling or going south for the winter, or even jumping btwn friends homes and staying a few weeks at a time. But in any case the #1 thing we will need in addition to our meds is gas. We will be absolutely and utterly fucked without gas bc we are in Bumfuck Nowhere with no other way out.

I feel selfish for saying I'm less scared about being homeless than the last time... I know what this means. I've already been chronically unhoused for 10 years, I'm used to the packing up and going. Bel just lost everything. His home, his pets, his family, his childhood belongings, years worth of art and gifts and sentimental things, his support system. He feels like HE is going to die, and rapidly swinging from feeling like he should bc he's worthless, to being like "I am more powerful than God and I will live out of spite!!!" I don't know how much he's actually processed yet since it's all so fresh.

But I am so much more functional on his behalf than I was for just me. Losing myself seems like par for the course, who cares. The stakes are much higher if Bel is the one getting lost. I can't let that happen. I may not be able to house us or protect him in a way that matters, but whatever it takes, I will NOT leave him all alone. I wish so much that someone had been there with me the first time.

Anyway that's just the latest rundown for anyone invested. If I made a little Amazon wishlist w some of the stuff we need for the car, do yall suppose anyone would help us w those items? I think it's worth a shot, I may poke at that today.

Ugh

#me #prsnl

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dasheal · 5 months

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Day One of Many- phone addiction

I'm going to use this as a little diary since no one really follows me anyway, but maybe another 23-ish young adult can relate. This year I am turning shit around. First things first, lose the phone addition. It wastes sooooo much of my time it's awful to think about. I think the internet is wonderful in some aspects, but its so easy to get sucked into watching mindless content for hours on end. That's my main issue anyway.

It's currently 6pm and even though I mediated heavily with w**d and some extra(prescribed) meds, I'm still kinda tweaking. Just anxious and bored, mind racing. I cleaned a lot today! Rearranged my room.

Though, I can't decide how far to take it... I haven't used my PlayStation or switch today either, and obviously looking at my phone as little as possible. I was going crazy with the silence though, and decided to allow myself to listen to music. I want this to maybe make me bored and push me towards hobbies I've always dreamed of enjoying. I literally have a ukulele that was given to me randomly and for years I've brought it with me... every year I've moved I've taken this fucker along saying I'll learn, and enjoy some easy songs since I enjoy music and singing. For the last four years, five different homes. Anyway, its TIME! Others stuff likes walking more, reading more blah blah blah. Next goal slash starting slow is to slow down on the mary jane. No need to be dependent on anything, even if it does help anxiety. After a long break I can decide whats best for me, and maybe be able to piss clean and get a good paying job. Be a first fr :')

If anyone actually read this then thanks but otherwise, just gonna shout out myself in the future. You got this girlfriend lets connect with ourselves and the earth and other people.

and literally just be positive, this shit is all in your head and you are in control if you decide to be. queen

-Miso

#phone addiction

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gqteach · 1 year

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It’s been many minutes, but again, I didn’t forget this blog existed, it’s just that life is full of things that I need to do and a side-hobby blog often gets discarded in favor of more essential to-dos.

But it’s summer! Hurray! I have survived two whole years of teaching.

My Principal did talk to my co-teacher but it was determined that things weren’t gonna work out, so they swapped in a different co-teacher. In addition to gendering me correctly, this man and I were like...significantly more on the same page in terms of education philosophy. I cannot express how much weight was lifted off my shoulders when they made that change. They even made it before the semester ended, which was wild - I was going to agree to tough it out for another month - but I certainly can’t complain, even if it did start some gossip I didn’t want anything to do with.

I say as if there’s any gossip I ever want something to do with.

I ended up taking over the GSA full time in March! The two teachers who led it before me had to step back for personal reasons, so I stepped from third leader to first with the help of another staff member (the only other person in the building who used they/them pronouns too, which was cool). We had a fun time, watched some Queer Eye, hung out, played Happy Little Dinosaurs. It was a good opportunity. Unfortunately, the two of us were not rehired for next year, so it’ll go back to my predecessors.

Brief aside: if you’re unfamiliar with how it works, basically teachers without tenure (in Chicago Public Schools) are employed on year-to-year contracts and at the end of the year they decide whether they want to renew your contract.

They didn’t want me for next year, so I’m on the hunt for a new job. I’m going to miss the community, but hopefully the next school will be a better fit for me in terms of personality/philosophy. I’m bad at politics and I can bend, but only so far, so trying to get me to enforce rules I think are useless and a waste of time is just gonna end badly for all of us. (Especially me, but that’s a power thing.) On the bright side, they hired a nonbinary English teacher, so the kids will still have some

The advising committee has done some amazing stuff gathering students from across the city and building community for Queer students. I’m hoping next year we can work more on policy (and finally get those gender neutral bathroom signs sorted) but there’s not a thing that we do that feels like a waste. I really wish I’d had this when I was a kiddo, but it’s so good to be part of it now.

I caught COVID a second time that seems to have decided to have an evil baby with my allergies and I haven’t been able to breathe properly through my nose since I caught it in January, but allergy meds have been coming in handy. I’ve been off Adderall for a couple months because I haven’t found a new psychiatrist, and that’s an adventure. Chronic Pain/Fatigue is at normal, but summer & sleep are helping. My personal life is kind of in shambles but c’est la vie. Just grab a roll of FlexTape and a prayer.

That’s all I can think of at the moment in terms of worthwhile updates, but I’ll try to actually post over the summer about some of the teaching teachers I’ll be doing. Until next time, I hope life treats you gently.

(06/26/2023)

#Transgender #nonbinary #nonbinary teacher #trans teacher #genderqueer #Queer

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onlyherefortheshowmances · 1 year

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TW/CW: Suicidal ideation (without intent currently).

TL/DR: I am trying to find a doctor anywhere in the state of Pennsylvania that accepts UPMC for You (medicaid) and is willing to at least try solve to my medical mystery. Preferably a family doctor with connections to a rheumatologist and possibly neurology and/or pain management. One that will actually listen and not give up and actually care that I'm in acute pain. I feel like my own body is trying to kill me. I have for a month or more.

I want every single blood test you can do on a person. Every possible imaging study you can do. A sleep study. Another Holter monitor. LITERRALLY EVERYTHING because I am so tired of 'try this, try this' I want to know for sure exactly what is causing this.

At this point I just need a single doctor to either tell me I'm dying (which is what it feels like is happening) or one to tell me what's actually wrong and causing all this and how we can actually treat it while dealing with the immediate pain.

I'm tired of going to ERs every week. I'm tired of doctor's who are more afraid of the DEA than they are of their patient's dying. Because I don't want to wake up with this pain tomorrow morning. I cannot live life like this.

This pain and the fact that no one in the medical field (other than my PT) seems to care about it at all. This pain that my current PCP respond to "I want someone to actually figure out what's wrong with me." by saying "We don't know." as if it is not literally her job to figure that out. I went through the entire appointment saying "What about the pain I'm in right now?" And all that happened was she took me off Lyrica which had side effects I couldn't deal with and prescribed Savella instead and told me to come back in a week once I titrate up to the correct dosage. What about that week? I don't have enough meds from the ER to last until next Tuesday ma'am. I was there on Saturday and they are legally only allowed to prescribe 3 days work of narcotics. He did give me 10 days worth of flexeril for which I'm grateful, but that on its own isn't enough, and my PCP won't give me anything at all. I literally told her my previous family doc only checked my TSH level not T3 or T4 (thyroid hormones). Did she order the additional tests? Has she ordered any tests at all in fact? NO. And she keeps saying insomnia when I tell her I have to take the oxy and flexeril to be able to sleep through the night. THAT'S NOT INSOMNIA. THAT IS ME BEING IN SO MUCH PAIN THAT I CAN'T SLEEP. At my appointment today I told her that almost every morning when I wake up in excruciating pain, I wish I wouldn’t’ve woken up at all; that death feels like a better option and that that thought scared me as someone with a history of suicidal ideation and attempts, and she literally did not care an ounce.

My Rheumatologist keeps trying to give me prednisone which DOES NOT WORK! And says take 2 Aleve twice a day. If Aleve worked for my pain do you think I would have been to the emergency room FOUR times since March 16th? I wouldn't have requested to see you sooner if Aleve did anything.

Not one person has cared about my sudden onset fatigue spells that keep getting more frequent to the point I'm hesitant to drive very far unless absolutely necessary because one of these times I'm gonna actually pass out. That's probably what it'll take for the medical professionals to care. Me falling asleep while driving. I think this may be POTS, because I also get random bouts of 'benign' tachycardia at the most random times.

They just keep slapping labels on things instead of just actually checking or even asking me half the time. I'm about 80% sure I have EDS, but apparently the closest person that will even test let alone diagnose someone over the age of 18 is in Philadelphia and I'd need a referral from my Rheumatologist to see that person.

#pennsylvania #medicaid #medical care #help #doctors #Rheumatoid Arthritis #Fibromyalgia #osteoarthritis #POTS #EDS #so tired #just so so tired #lancaster pa #philadelphia #pittsburgh #harrisburg #anywhere in PA #I do not care how far the drive is

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flatstarcarcosa · 2 years

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You've mentioned it a lot, but did you ever explain how Felix ends up owning a bar in your canon? I'm curious :)

SO. for starters i just got off work and am typing this while trying to eat in the 45-65 minute span i'm gonna have between 'eat food, take meds' and 'pass the fuck out', if anything is disjointed that's why

but anyway so

it comes initially from me being like. what the fuck would felix even DO anyway, because he's absolutely not the 'sit at home all day doing nothing every day even if he has a good reason (the new disabilities)' type.

when he gets medically cleared, and by that i mean his doctors are like 'congrats you don't have to come here multiple times a month, see you in six months' as well as being informed he's basically back to as 'normal' a level as they can get him, it kind of. begins snowballing a little, into a place i don't like.

i joke about 'heehee, soup' but luck, the armor lock, and his armor itself are the only reasons he lived. and that living still involved a 6 week medically induced coma, and another month actually IN the hospital before they sent him home.

and they didn't want to send him home, they wanted to send him to an SNF for more-involved therapy and he just straight up refused and fucked off AMA with my promise to his team i would at least do what i could, which would damn sure be better than whatever he'd do alone.

so by the time we roll around to him being at a point of getting antsy and wanting to do something with himself, it's been a while since chorus. he still thinks that despite everything, things ain't as bad as it could be, he's worked his way back, he just has to brush off the rust and get back to it.

and then while he's learning to shoot again, because yes, in addition to having to learn how walk and get dressed and hold a fucking toothbrush again, he had to learn how to use a fucking gun, he realizes that like...........

maybe he's not getting back to anything.

he needs a (mostly) permanent stiff brace on his knee, and will forever. if he's planning on using his fucking leg for longer than an hour, he's got to have it. stiff ones aren't like the little sleeves you slip on and can hide under a pant leg, and i imagine even in the far-future canon, there's not that many changes made to 'em. you don't redesign something that works, right?

he gets to a point where he finds out he's also going to need to need a moderate dose of painkillers basically forever, and all of the issues keeping them legally comes with, because having your bones put back together and a lot of them replaced with fucking metal might keep you from being paralyzed but it's gonna hurt.

when he's learning to shoot again, he finds a new problem. his doctors had mentioned at one point it could be an issue, but because it hadn't been, he jumped to assuming that meant it wouldn't be, and the problem is that repeated motions put too much stress on the joints and the tendons in his hands and arms and the end result is a tremor.

you can't fucking shoot if you can't hold a gun still, and keeping his hands in the same positions while target shooting are enough to make the tremor act up after a bit. the same with trying to use knives.

and so we slip back into a second period of turmoil, because this is somehow like when we came home the first time, after reach, but also it's not. it's not the same at all, and he says that at least that time everything was actually fine.

it was fine because he could just pick back up with whatever he wanted but he can't do that now because he's spent too long only being good at one fucking thing and now he can't fucking do that fucking thing

"so what the FUCK am i supposed to do until i fucking die, since you and sam couldn't leave it alone on chorus?!"

it's probably, maybe, the first time since the whole thing that i actually step away and go stay with @dadbodsandbots and sam for a bit. (depending on the timeline, and i still haven't nailed down the details bc i would end up hyperfixating on the medical side of it wrt his recovery, but, mason might be a baby now??)

i leave not because i don't care but because i don't know what to do, or say. i'm not going to give him false positives just to keep the good vibes, and i'm not going to remotely imply he doesn't deserve to be angry and maybe losing a little bit (more?) of his mind about it, but from my perspective it's like

he did it to him fucking self.

this whole thing is just him, finally, for once, actually experiencing the consequences of his own goddamn bullshit, and while i'm not cruel enough to tell him that, i don't think i need too. i think he knows. he knows, and that's part of what makes him so goddamn mad about it.

i think maybe he shows up after a couple days, having at least asked sam if it was okay first before showing up, and it ends up being the first time the four of us are actually around each other.

we've seen each other, a little. sam stopped by once, not long after felix was up and walking again at home, and i could do a whole fucking post just about THAT from sam's perspective tbh. (POV: you feel the need to check in on your former partners/friends despite everything and you've had this mental image built up in your brain for a very, very, long time about the one that was basically gaslighting and emotionally abusing you where he's a looming threatening monster that twisted you into becoming the same and then he answers the door on fucking crutches with one leg still mostly held up with visible fucking braces and rods attached down the outside of it, and while the man was never Jacked in his build he looks so fucking gaunt that if someone said he was a walking corpse you wouldn't doubt it. your world view is thrown ass over end, for the second time within as many years.)

i think it's the first time sam begins to ponder the fact that again, despite everything, the four of us are also the only other people in the whole fucking galaxy that know exactly what happened and why we all ended up the way we did and where we did and how, and that for whatever that may be worth,

it's got to be worth something.

i think when we come back home again after that, felix has had time to stew in his anger after i left, and then chew on his anger coming after me, and then finally let it abate enough to see what it left behind while we're there.

and he says, "what the fuck do normal people even do for jobs, anyway?"

we're not hurting for money or anything. my penchant for never spending more than we needed to, his penchant for always finding new ways to add to the checks, and both of us likely having maybe-dubiously-legal investments over the years means that technically we're fine.

it's not about the money, which is something else that feels weird for him, when so much was for so long, but it's looped back to what i opened with: felix isn't the 'sit around at home all day and do nothing' type.

i end up being the one spouting off bartending. one of the things for combating the nerve issues and the tremors is actually walking the fine line of retraining his fine-motor control without over-exerting it. when we empty out the storage locker we've been paying on for well over a decade, he finds his old guitar and picks up playing again.

his doctor comments that it's a really good idea, actually, so good he's bummed he didn't think of it himself, because of guitar playing involving dexterity and use of the hands without them being stuck in the same positions for too long.

it sounds silly, but he picks up a bit of juggling, too. not like, circus level shit, but just the repeated motions of throwing things and tracking them and catching them and rinsing and repeating.

basically he ends up doing a lot of mostly-mindless stuff that involves keeping his hands and arms in use, with bonus points being anything he can kind of do while doing something else. (if you're like, omg does felix have fidget spinners the answer is no, but he does have other stim toys, but also, if you call them that he will throw it at you, tremors be damned.)

and so i'm like.

bartending.

you can still be around people and shit talk them, it'll be a good environment that isn't something lifeless and soul sucking, you'll get ample use of your hands, and as an added treat, "you get to control people when you tell them no more booze."

"and if they get mad about it, i might still get to stab people sometimes, too," he adds, cheerfully.

he ends up just working in some little dive when none of the clubs in the area hire him. we can't like, outright accuse anyone with no proof but we're pretty sure it's because the clubs are run by snobs that would rather close down early every night for lack of staff than have a bartender with a leg brace.

the owner of the dive is probably some ex UNSC guy himself, the type that doesn't think it's something to hide while not making it everyone else's business. the type of guy that can tell felix's made-up timeline and events he gives for how he got injured ain't really jiving, but thinks at the end of the day that a man's business is his own and he doesn't owe anyone explanations about it.

i think the bar has a high turnover because lots of people get hired thinking it's going to be something other than what it is, and they think the owner is a dick (he's just old, gruff, and low on patience) and felix is one of the few people that sticks it out. i think he has a relationship with The Owner based on friendly animosity.

("you have me closing alone every night leading up to memorial day, are you a fucking sadist? are you trying to fucking kill me?"

"we're already dyin' a day at a time kid."

"well, can you please do yours faster so i can piss on your grave and find a new job?" )

it means that after a handful years, when The Owner is packing it in and retiring, before he sells the building to a realtor, he asks felix if he'd be interested in buying the bar.

claims that the realtor just wants to bulldoze the building to put in condos, and he'd rather die in the bar in the middle of a shift than let that happen, but then he offers felix a lower price than what he'd get for the condos, and felix can't help but feel that's by design.

so he says fuck it, why not? might be nice ~*~*being his own boss~*~*~ again.

#txt.txt #but also #others: samcat #should i expand on The Owner and give him like a name or something?#probably.#do i want to given How I Am About Gruff Old Men? no #but also: he's the anti-sarge in the fact that he's not full of insanity and smooth brains like sarge is #they'd still weirdly probably get along though? in the sense that sarge would go on a rant about something #and The Owner is shooting the shit along with him and then as soon as he walks away he's telling felix like #'that guys fucking insane and an idiot i understand why you wanted to kill him'#ship: save me some sunshine

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