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live-laugh-loverpool · 1 year

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Four Nurses and A Patient

Tags: @millythegoat, @alissonbecksfan234, @moomin279, @rubybecker-rb2, @lfc-fanfiction

Luis Diaz woke up with a sore throat, runny nose and fever. His first fear was that he’d caught Covid, and that he’d spread it to all his teammates.

He tried to get out of bed, but his body wasn’t having it. His head flopped back against the mattress, he resorted to throwing a pillow at his bunkmate, Harvey Elliott.

“Oi, watch it, will ya! It’s early in the morning.” Elliott grasped Diaz's pillow, peering over the bed. “Hey, you don’t look so good, Lucho.”

A muffled groan was all Diaz managed.

“You must be sick, then.” Thank goodness that Elliott seemed to pick up on his predicament. While the British teenager was good at many things, empathy happened not to be one of them. He usually spoke before he read the room—if he bothered to read the room at all—and that was often what landed him in big trouble.

“What are your symptoms?” Elliott asked, scrambling down the ladder and landing with a concerned frown. He was still in his pajamas and barefoot.

Diaz tried to convey in as little words as possible how terrible he felt, but his sore throat wasn’t cooperating. He felt weak and sore in every cell in his body.

“I’ll get a Covid test,” Elliott said suddenly, quickly making his way out of the room. “And I’ll get the gaffer while I’m at it. This could be a disaster for quite a bit of the team.”

The Covid test returned negative, thankfully for the whole team. That didn’t stop Elliott fussing over Diaz, who was already injured, the whole morning.

“Yo odio sopa de pollo,” Diaz grumbled for the ninth time, trying to dodge the silver spoon in front of him. He’d been grumpy since they moved him from the communal bedroom to an individual room with one bed.

Elliott sighed, refusing to let up. “I know, but my nan always said it has lots of zinc. It’ll make you feel better.”

He slapped Diaz's butt, and the Colombian let out a yelp. Elliott reacted immediately, dumping the spoonful of soup into his mouth.

“Well, that’s one way to get it down his throat,” Milner commented from the doorway. He’d been assigned to watch over the two, with Klopp already having an overflowing to-do list for the day. “How about trying the non-violent way?”

“How about you actually help?” Elliott snapped, fluffing Diaz's pillows. “You’ve been standing there like an idiot for two hours. Shouldn’t you be productive?”

“I was asked to watch you, not to be productive.” Milner winced at the screeching sound of an off-key singer. “And how can I be productive? Joel’s teaching the youngsters’ choir lesson and Tyler’s singing soprano.”

Elliott glared at Milner. “Shut. Up.”

“Ever heard of respect for your elders?”

“Ever heard of kindness to children?”

“Ever heard of not talking back?”

“Ever heard of being nice?”

“Lads! Enough! You’re squabbling like petulant children,” Henderson scolded them. He nodded towards Diaz, who had his pillows wrapped around his ears. “Poor Lucho needs his rest.”

“What he needs,” said Elliott, opening a box and popping out three rosy candies, “is some of these throat lozenges. They have lots and lots of ascorbic acid.”

Milner frowned, glaring at the lozenges as if that would make them disappear. “What the hell is that stuff? Cough syrup?”

“Am I late?” Firmino chose that moment to stride in through the door, carrying what seemed to be a moderately heavy basket.

Elliott shook his head, setting aside the bowl of chicken soup. “There’s no late or early, Bobby. What’s in the package?”

“The boss told us all you were sick, Lucho,” said Firmino. He nestled the basket close to Diaz, ruffling the Colombian’s hair. “The other guys were so disappointed that they couldn’t come see you, because they could catch the flu. So we put together a gift basket.”

Diaz found enough strength to push himself to a sitting position and dissect the basket’s contents. Everything was in bright, cheerful colors, mainly red. Diaz decided to take the basket apart one by one.

He found a plush lilac Beanie Baby inside the basket, small enough to fit into the palm of his hand. Diaz smiled and snuggled up with the plush rabbit, leaning against the pillow.

Henderson had seen the Beanie Baby, and he instantly knew who’d put that in the basket. “Ali?”

Firmino nodded, flashing a grin. “You get an A, Hendo. We’ve all got something in there. Joel added some coconut candies, Mo put in a heating pad, even Kostas contributed something decent.”

“What a miracle,” Milner said without even moving.

Diaz frowned as he took out a CD, relaxing upon seeing it was Nana Mouskouri. “Kostas listens to this stuff?”

“Nana Mouskouri is Greek,” Firmino explained. “By the way Harvey, Cody added some vitamin supplements to the basket. There’s selenium, zinc, magnesium, manganese, iron, vitamin A…”

Elliott wasted no time in pouring out a dose of the pills, handing them to Diaz with a glass of water. “Take these, Lucho. They’ll make you feel better.”

Diaz groaned, stuffing his face into the pillow. “If I take any more pills now, I’m going to be sick.”

“You’re already sick,” Milner reminded him, not looking up from his magazine. “So you might as well stop the drama and take the pills, Lucho.”

“Cody thought of that,” said Firmino. “So he also included the same supplements in liquid format.”

“Your fever’s getting worse,” Henderson pointed out, taking the thermometer off Diaz's head. “We need some Tylenol to get it down. Could you do that for us, Bobby?”

“Yes, skipper!” Firmino saluted Henderson, waltzing out of the room.

“You’ve barely eaten anything all day, Lucho,” Elliott sighed. He gave up on trying to feed Diaz a plate of arepas, setting it aside with the ten other dishes he’d tried. Thank goodness Jennings understood the situation.

“Don’ wanna eat,” Diaz mumbled into his pillow, snuggling the Beanie Baby. “Sleeeeep.”

“I know. But you have to get some food into your body Luis, it’s been working to fight those viruses.” Henderson frowned, checking the thermometer. “And your fever’s only went down a little.”

“So it’s time to bring the secret weapon!” Firmino came in, carrying a whole armful of ice cream tubs. “Choose your flavor, Luchinho.”

Milner stared at the large amount of ice cream Firmino had just carried in. “How much ice cream did you just bring in?”

“Six tubs.” Firmino set the flavors out in front of Diaz, sitting on the edge of the bed. “How are you feeling, mano?”

“Like crap,” Diaz grumbled, flipping over to the other side. “What kind of devilish sickness is this?”

“Seems like you have a pretty bad case of the flu,” Firmino sympathized. “Now which flavor would you like? French vanilla, rocky road, chocolate, peanut butter or cookie dough?”

“You remembered our ice cream ceremony!” Elliott exclaimed. “Boy, did we get the boss mad.”

Despite himself, Diaz mustered a small smile. “I remember. Rocky road, please.”

Elliott slid into bed next to Diaz, turning on his phone. “Make that two.”

The next day, Diaz woke up feeling absolutely splendid. If Henderson hadn’t told him to take it easy for the next 24 hours, he’d get up and dance.

He was starving now. He was just about to leap out of bed, ready for the new day, when he heard a cough next to him.

Elliott.

“Ay, pobrecito,” Diaz sighed, ruffling Elliott’s hair. “You caught the flu from me.”

“Well, you know what this means,” said Firmino, who was already combing his hair for the day. “The Four Nurses are back in business!”

Milner hotfooted it for the door, completely forgetting that he was still in his pajamas. “Sorry lads, but I’m outta here.”

#james milner #roberto firmino #harvey elliott #jordan henderson #luis diaz #liverpool #liverpool fc #liverpool men #lfc #lfc players #football imagine #football fanfic #football #football blurb #soccer fanfiction by lynn #soccer fanfiction #soccer

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tmgstudios · 1 year

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I posted 6,187 times in 2022

That's 6,187 more posts than 2021!

789 posts created (13%)

5,398 posts reblogged (87%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@vvirokuns

@hal-mikkelson

@galaxdora

@syndercorpses

@finalgirlyuri

I tagged 6,106 of my posts in 2022

Only 1% of my posts had no tags

#reblog - 5,241 posts

#courtesy of ted - 789 posts

#serifcore - 341 posts

#bonemeal - 301 posts

#tedcore - 181 posts

#rattling bones - 160 posts

#shitposts - 158 posts

#courtesy of ben - 112 posts

#the homies - 103 posts

#ask game - 95 posts

Longest Tag: 136 characters

#but yeah every person who gets mad at a cc for queerbaiting is legally required to watch. literally any podcast produced by tmg studios.

My Top Posts in 2022:

i am picking up loquacious seelie and shakijg him around i need your secrets you little manwhore. stop hiding them i need your lore

533 notes - Posted June 2, 2022

[long post, sorry, theres a tldr at the end but i really recommend reading the full thing if you can]

i really wish there was more like. narcolepsy awareness stuff in the world. that teaches people the actual symptoms and not just the stereotype. the amount of people i have talked to both online and in person about my experiences with narcolepsy who have been shocked at how much they related to my experiences is staggering.

narcolepsy is so under-diagnosed and also very often misdiagnosed as something else because so many people, even within the medical field, don’t know the actual symptoms of narcolepsy (i am not pulling this out of my ass, my sleep specialist has told me this several times. its a real issue that sleep specialists continue to battle to this day). up until relatively recently, the past 5-10 years or so, narcolepsy and other similar sleep disorders weren’t even considered real by a lot of the medical field!!

narcolepsy is not “falls asleep at random” disorder. narcolepsy is a disorder of sleep cycles, causing the brain to enter rem sleep much quicker and more frequently then it should.

this causes things like excessive daytime tiredness/chronic fatigue, extremely vivid dreams, sleep paralysis, hallucinations while waking up/falling asleep, and in the case of those with narcolepsy type-1, cataplexy (aka, while feeling intense emotions the brain will enter rem sleep while awake, causing muscles to lock up. this is where the “falls asleep at random” stereotype comes from, but the person experiencing it is not actually asleep, just unable to move their muscles. i can’t really speak more on this specific part of narcolepsy, since i have type-2, aka narcolepsy without cataplexy, this is just the basics i was told by my sleep doctors. EDIT: someone who experiences cataplexy has added their experiences in a reblog, if youd like to learn more please go take a look!!) [note: these are not the only symptoms of narcolepsy. not all people with narcolepsy will experience all of these symptoms, and everyone will experience them at different frequencies. for example, i only get sleep paralysis once every month or so, and my hallucinations tend to be limited to auditory] according to my sleep doctor, narcolepsy also has links to both adhd and chronic strep throat as a child (i have no idea how that last one works. but. thats what my doctor said and hey. she was right. i had chronic strep throat as a child and look at me now.) EDIT because i forgot to add: narcolepsy can not only co-exist with insomnia, but cause insomnia as well! excessive daytime tiredness --> more naps during the day --> harder time falling asleep at night

so yeah. i guess this is me doing awareness. if you relate to any of these symptoms, please talk to a sleep specialist if you’re able to. it might not be narcolepsy, but chances are it’s something, since none of these things are normal (to repeat, excessive daytime tiredness is not normal. that means there is something wrong). theres nothing wrong with asking a sleep specialist about narcolepsy and getting tested for it, even if you come back negative.

my dms and askbox are open anytime for any kind of questions about narcolepsy, the diagnostic process, treatments, etc. while i am not a doctor, i have learned a lot through my own experiences, talking with my sleep specialist, and also my own research, since i’m currently studying to hopefully make narcolepsy research my career! whether you are questioning having narcolepsy or not, you are not bothering me with questions, i promise, you asking will probably make my day

TLDR; narcolepsy is a very misunderstood and underdiagnosed sleep disorder, and i highly recommend everyone learn about what it actually is and what the symptoms actually are, and if you relate to any of them, talk to a sleep specialist

[other narcoleptics feel free to add on to this post with your own experiences(and also to message me i always want to talk to other narcoleptics ASJDKHJ), and non-narcoleptics please please feel free to reblog! i really want to start spreading awareness for this disorder, since again, severally under/misdiagnosed and most of the world is still under the impression that the narcolepsy stereotype is true]

598 notes - Posted October 1, 2022

literally not a single day goes by where i don’t think about this clip at least once

789 notes - Posted November 28, 2022

i just described an inanimate object as “brimming with autism” in my head. to myself. i am completely alone. there was no bit. just raw instinct. whats wrong with me.

1,040 notes - Posted September 4, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

1,331 notes - Posted March 10, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #not the entire narcolepsy post 💀💀💀#also god. sorry for anyone seeing that longest tag

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boy-blunder · 2 years

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Vent // Negative Discussion of Mental Illness // vague paranoid thoughts I don't know what to tag this as if anyone cares to read. I normally vent on twit but this felt more disconnected and private for whatever reason so apologies for the bad vibes

I've been so lucky to have the support system I have so I've never really felt this horrible sense of Otherness or like I'm maybe a liability or a difficult person to have nearby before but that's changing rapidly and it's, as I expected, not great!

It does make me sad to think people who are not as lucky as I am feel like this all the time. And in a way that makes me feel othered from that side of things too, like I don't deserve to have cruised by on the power of friendship or whatever when other people have felt this terrible about themselves the whole time so I can’t even reach out to other people who could relate because it feels cruel, like I deserve to finally feel like a spooky monster.

I very rarely feel like a capital F Freak because my loved ones are the kindest and most supportive people in the world. And as much as my reality is often terrifying and distorted I've always had comfort in knowing people around me are empathetic and understanding. My episodes are scary but I do have safety.

And I do know that life cannot be kind to me all the time and I in no way expect it to be but it's just so jarring to suddenly feel so isolated because of the way that my mind is broken. To think people out there would suddenly view me as scary or lesser first and as a person second if they suddenly found out that I’m a bit wacko in the head is horrible.

There's a big big chance that things are going to get worse for me. They are already, I'm currently experiencing new scary symptoms that are expected to come with time passing and I'm also preparing myself for a period of my old symptoms worsening as I adjust to new medications to help something else. That's scary enough on its own but now I'm also haunted by the idea that I'll become a Negative in life. Some kind of burden? I don't know. I just feel like I have an invisible sign on my head and if people can suddenly read it they'll immediately think the worst things of me. I'm paranoid enough as it is.

I've always been so open and honest with my struggles because feeling Not Alone saved me. Meeting other people with the same symptoms as me was my lifeline. I've always tried to be open because that's what made me feel "normal". And I suppose this is a problem with catering my own "safe space" or whatever. I'm completely unequipped to hear a very common take on people who have minds like mine which is apparently: Stay Away From Her.

I try so hard every day to fight my own battle in private and keep all the sharp terrifying things away from people around me so now I'm just shaken and tired.

Just be nice with your words. You really have absolutely no idea what people have going on and it's just so hard having to remember that I'm a walking horror movie to people or whatever. I want to believe that I am so many other things before I am crazy but it’s getting hard out here. I think I really might be Just Crazy.

#j's diary idk

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thebibliosphere · 2 years

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Hello! I also have pots and suspected mcas, since I have a wide variety of strange allergies, including sweet potato, lavendar, most face scrubs, and something in the tasty Aldi halloween gummies I bought that made my throat swell.

What are your most common allergies with mcas? I'm working on asking my new cardiologist, but figure this might be a good place to start until then.

Thanks!!

So with MCAS, it varies significantly from person to person, and what’s fine for one of us can cause anaphylaxis for others.

My worst reactions from foods come from high histamine foods due to my body’s inability to break down histamine in the gut. I can navigate this with a low histamine diet with a few higher histamine foods thrown in for nutritional value. My worst trigger foods are alcohol, red meat, and gluten. I also have severe allergies to synthetic-based pesticide residue and both synthetic and natural preservatives. My former allergist was shocked when he figured this out through blind testing but he also believed the data in front of him. Thankfully.

Strong scents, stress, and environmental triggers like pollen or most common household cleaners/chemicals are also bad triggers. I’ve literally caused myself to go into anaphylaxis from stress before. Hell, my own menstrual cycle triggers it, too.

But again, as I said, what’s a trigger for me might be fine for you. I’d advise talking to both an allergist and a dermatologist to figure out your reactions to make sure you don’t have any true allergies, vs. the mast cell overload ones, which are triggered by a different mechanism.

If you’re not already on any antihistamines, a combination of h1 and h2 histamine blockers might be beneficial to your POTS. You can get them otc, but talk to your physician first!

An allergist may wish to run a blood tryptase test, but please know those things are horrifically inaccurate. My tests all come back negative every time. The most reliable tryptase test is the 24-hour urine sample one, but even that can come up negative if the sample is not kept on ice and tested quickly enough. It’s why many more knowledgeable doctors are now making a clinical diagnosis based on health history and response to mast cell stabilizers. Until testing improves, which it is as the disorder gains more interest, treatment of symptoms and pinpointing triggers to avoid are often the most helpful.

Anyway, I hope that helps. I have a lot more info ib my #MCAS tag too.

#chronic health tag #mcas

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scripttorture · 3 years

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One of the central characters in a fantasy story I'm writing has torture as part of her backstory. She was captured by an evil race, and one individual in particular put her through a "training" regime designed to turn her into a useful/trustworthy slave. Specifically the goals of the training were:

- destroy her sense of self / agency

- overwrite her ingrained response of healing herself when injured (she has magical healing powers)

- an affectionate or worshipful disposition towards her captors

- immediate obedience to any command

I feel like both physical and psychological torture / mental conditioning are probably appropriate, though I'm leaning away from including sexual abuse. I honestly don't know much about torture at all and the only things that come to mind as producing a result similar to what I'm looking for are the Game of Thrones torture sequence and the use of obdience collars in the Codex Alera book series. The latter is very interesting to me because it is a magical device that inflicts pain in reaction to disobedience but also inflicts pleasure to reward obedience.

I guess I'm just wondering if you have any advice for what kinds of methods would be good to include in a process designed to produce obedience, rather than torture for its own sake or to extract information, as well as if there are any common pitfalls I should try to avoid in writing about such a thing.

The training itself won't be in the book, but I need to be familiar with it for backstory purposes because later in the story this character encounters her torturer again, and is subjected to some further abuse before she finally overcomes her fear and kills him.

Alright well I’m going to be straight up with you: the scenario you’ve presented is a very common torture apologist trope. It’s incredibly unrealistic. And it’s unrealistic in ways that support torture by claiming it can be ‘useful’.

Which probably means that you’re new to the blog and haven’t heard me give this talk before. That’s OK, we all learn sometime and it’s not my intention to shame you for the fact you’re not as obsessed with this stuff as I am or couldn’t afford to shell out for the books.

Torture does not produce obedience. The best evidence we have right now suggests it encourages active resistance.

If you got a lot of your inspiration from Game of Thrones then frankly I’m not surprised you came up with apologia. The torture in that series is incredibly badly handled. And a big part of the point of running this blog is that most people are getting their information on torture from shows like that. Which happens because the research is inaccessible and hasn’t been popularised the way fictional tropes (sometimes fictional tropes literally started by torturers) have been popularised.

The important thing is what you choose to do now.

I’m going to break down the problems here and make some suggestions for what you could do instead.

Firstly: there is no torture or abuse that will guarantee obedience. Pain does not make people meek or compliant or willing to follow commands.

Torture survivors are not broken.

They are not ‘controlled’ by their torturers and the suggestion that they are is used in the real world to bar real survivors from treatment. It is also used to bar them from entering safe countries and to argue that they shouldn’t be allowed visas or passports.

The best statistics we have for any sort of compliance under torture come from analysis of historical French data where torture was used to try and force confessions (something we know torture can sometimes do).

The ‘success’ rate averaged at 10%. Under torture 90% of people will not comply long enough to sign their name.

Secondly: torture does not and can not ‘make’ a victim feel ‘worshipful’ towards their torturer. The suggestion is kind of like asking if someone can tap dance immediately after removing the bones from their legs.

Torturers have no control over a victim’s emotions. They have no control over their symptoms. They have no control over their beliefs.

And there is no such thing as a torture that can change someone’s mind in a way torturers can control.

Once again, this fictional trope is used by politicians and the media to justify marginalising real torture survivors.

I have read hundreds, possibly thousands, of accounts from torture survivors. I’ve read historic and modern accounts. I’ve read accounts from all sort of people from all over the globe. I have never seen a survivor say anything positive about their torturers. I have never seen anything close to toleration.

A lot of survivors are blisteringly angry at their torturers. A lot of them feel overwhelming levels of spite and some report literally putting themselves at risk of death in order to spite their torturers. And yes, a lot of them are afraid too. None of these emotions are mutually exclusive.

Affection is impossible. We are not wired that way.

Thirdly: I understand that ‘evil races’ are a long standing fantasy trope but it would be remiss of me if I didn’t mention the racism inherent in that idea. That some people are ‘born bad’.

I’d strongly suggest you look up the Black, Indian and First Nations people that I know are on this site critiquing these kinds of fantasy tropes. Because they will be able to explain it better then I can.

Fourthly: the term ‘psychological torture’ is a pretty common dog whistle for torture apologia.

Most of the time tortures that people dub ‘psychological’ are things with real, physical effects that lead to lasting injury and death. They just don’t tend to leave obvious external scars. I use Rejali’s term ‘clean torture’ for these techniques. Researchers distinguish them from scarring tortures because they are harder to detect and prove in court.

The majority of survivors today will have experienced clean torture. They will have no obvious physical scars. But they will still be disabled. They’re ‘just’ less likely to see any form of justice for it.

Fifthly: torture is a terrible training method because it decreases a person’s ability to learn.

Torture causes memory problems. It also often causes lasting physical injuries that make performing basic tasks more difficult. And it causes a lot of serious psychological problems which make performing basic tasks more difficult.

A trained person who was never tortured will always out perform someone whose training involved torture.

I probably sound quite angry here.

I write fantasy and I also write about torture a lot. But I can’t imagine that it’s just flavour for a fantasy world or some artefact of the past. Torture is a real, present threat in the country that I grew up in. If I was to return now I could, literally, be tortured and executed.

If you want to include torture in your world, in your story then you are committing to telling someone else’s story. You are representing an incredibly marginalised group of people and you are presenting that representation to a third group, one that has never had contact with real torture survivors.

Are you comfortable with the idea of telling your peers that survivors are still controlled by ‘the enemy’? That they’re passive? That they don’t have the capacity to make their own decisions?

Are you comfortable knowing that the popularity of this message keeps millions of genocide survivors in refugee camps, blocked from citizenship, aid and safety?

I understand feeling attached to a story and a character. And I understand that this information is hard to find. Hell I’m probably going to end up with the only English copy of one of the pivotal textbooks because I’m shelling out to get it translated.

You say you want to write a torture survivor. With respect I don’t think you know what a torture survivor looks like.

I think the most helpful, and kindest, thing I can do here is describe what torture does to people. Because I can’t tell you whether that’s something you want to write. I could try and rebuild this scenario for you (and if you decide you’re interested in that after reading all of this and all the links then I suggest looking through the blog tags for ICURE, torture as training, Black Widow and Overwatch.) But I think you need to decide whether you actually want to write a torture survivor first.

Here’s a post on the most common torture apologia tropes.

Here’s the post on the types of memory problems torture commonly causes. I strongly recommend picking at least one.

Remember that this would never go away. Improvement and recovery in torture survivors means learning to live with symptoms. The symptoms themselves are permanent.

It’s a hundred different alarms set up on their phone to try and make up for the forgetfulness that makes them miss appointments. It’s the little bottle of perfume in their pocket to bring themselves back to reality when they get intrusive memories at work.

Here’s a post on the other common symptoms.

You want something in the range of 3-5 of those, though more are likely if your character is held for years. Each of them should be severe. Every single symptom should have a large, negative, impact on the character’s daily life.

Do you know anyone with chronic pain? It warps their world. Work can become impossible. Basic household tasks like getting dressed, cooking, cleaning the dishes are done through gritted teeth or not at all. Hobbies and ‘fun’ activities dwindle as they struggle to find a way to do them that doesn’t hurt. Interaction with other people, even loved ones, can easily become barbed.

Because the pain makes everything more difficult. It means everything takes more energy, more effort. Which means that things fall by the wayside, whether that’s by a pile of mouldering dishes in the sink or snapping at a child. It means tears and the social judgement that follows them. It means the world narrowing as it gets harder to go out.

Do you see what I mean? Every part of life.

That’s an example for one symptom. You need to work out at least four. Then figure out how they interact. Then figure out what the character can do to make her life better.

With chronic pain that can mean painkillers but it’s always more then that. It’s re-learning how to do things; how to put on trousers without aggravating the bad knee, how to sew with one hand. It means learning to cut down on what they do and it means learning a new sort of flexibility; accepting that there are days when the pain is too much.

It can mean having the same conversation about disability over and over again. With family, with friends, with colleagues. ‘I can’t do that.’ ‘I can do that sometimes but not always.’ ‘That will hurt me.’ ‘I can’t use that chair.’ ‘I can’t get my arms that high above my shoulders.’ ‘I need help with this.’

And that sometimes means learning a kind of patience that is really barely held back rage. Or perhaps I’m projecting a little with this last one.

If you’ve never met a torture survivor, if you’ve never looked at a survivor’s work, then all this is difficult. You’re trying to imagine something from first principals with nothing to fall back on.

So let’s bring some survivors into the discussion here. Some reality.

Who’s listened to Fela? How about Bobi Wine?

Fela Kuti was the father of modern Afro beats music. He was tortured multiple times and during one attack, which destroyed his home, his mother was murdered by the military. When he got out of jail Fela marched her funeral procession past the biggest barracks in Nigeria’s biggest city. He wrote two songs about this attack and he doubled down on his opposition to the military government.

Fela’s music started causing riots.

You can read what I have to say about him here. You can listen to his music on youtube.

Here’s an interview with Bobi Wine, which was conducted shortly after he was tortured in Uganda. He talked about how he was determined to go back and continue fighting. Which he did. He even ran against the president.

I’ve also got a short piece on Searle who was a cartoonist captured by the Japanese during World War 2. His drawings of what happened in To the Kwai and Back are worth seeing. Especially if you want to write atrocities on this scale. They will show you the scale and how to focus on the small, human elements despite that overwhelming scale.

Alleg’s The Question is pretty much a must, it’s one of the most thorough accounts from the Franco-Algerian war.

Monroe’s A Darkling Plain is also a must, it’s a series of interviews with survivors of various different conflicts and atrocities. Some are torture survivors. Some are not. It is essential reading because it shows the variety in survivors as well as giving a sense of their lives beyond the symptoms.

Finally Amnesty International has literally hundreds of interviews and studies available for free online.

The most important decision for any story with regards to torture is whether it should be there at all.

So much of this topic is intimidating and so much of it is difficult to write. Not just in the ‘oh this is horribly effecting’ sense but in the ‘I have twelve things to juggle in this simple scene’ sense.

Ask yourself what torture adds to this character and this story. What does this backstory actually give this character?

Because if the point is to have her vulnerable and then ultimately triumphing violently over her attackers I don’t think you want a torture scenario. You could get the same thing from a bad guy trying to drug her and having the kidnapping fail when she fights him off, clumsy but effective nonetheless.

And she could still come out of something like that traumatised.

Right now I really don’t see this adding anything but torture apologia to your story.

Handling torture well in a story means accepting that it can’t be the same story without it. It means watching the characters and narrative warp under the weight of it. It means lasting effects, for all the characters and for the world itself.

I believe you are capable of writing that if you want to, pet. But this ain’t it.

Edit: I’m having trouble seeing the beginning of the answer here. Can anyone let me know if there are formatting issues again please? The first word in the htmal is ‘Alright’ but what I’m seeing on tumblr starts 8 paragraphs in.

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thedrarrylibrarian · 3 years

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Part of being The Drarry Librarian is making educational posts to help our fandom grow and thrive. Today I want to address a problem that isn’t specific to our fandom, but sadly to all fandoms: sending hatred and harassment, anonymously or not. I’m not naive enough to believe I can solve this problem with a post, but I certainly hope that it makes people think twice and provides some resources to anyone who has been harassed or received hate.

Sending negative and hateful messages never accomplishes what the sender hopes. It’s just bullying, plain and simple. And just like real life bullying, online bullying negatively impacts both mental and physical health. It causes anxiety and depression, which can manifest into physical symptoms such as headaches, stomachaches, high blood pressure and puts even young people at a higher risk for heart attacks and strokes. Especially in adolescents, cyberbullying directly contributes to self-harm and suicide ideation/attempts and even in some cases, suicide completion.

I wish that making someone who sends hate aware of the hurt that they caused would solve the problem, but I also know that when the goal is to silence the recipient, people who send hate often don’t care about hurting others. I want these people to remember that nothing fandom related is worth this and that they are in charge of curating their own fandom experiences.

YOU have the power to unfollow, filter certain tags, or even block someone. It’s never acceptable to harass someone or send them hate over a difference of opinion though.

If you receive hate, please know that you’re not alone - this person has probably harassed other people too. It’s not your fault and you don’t deserve it. Reach out to a friend for support, because even if it isn’t bothering you in the moment, it might come back to bother you later. Document the harassment through a screenshot for reporting purposes, then block and report the sender. Delete the messages from the comments or your inbox so you don’t have to see them anymore. It’s tempting to respond, but most of the time it simply gives the person what they desire: attention and the knowledge that they upset you. If you continue to be harassed, you can change your tumblr and AO3 account settings so that only registered users can comment or interact.

Remember, you are so much more than what the hate says you are. Sending hate says far more about the person who sent it than it says about you. No one deserves hate, and everyone has worth.

We’ve all got both light and dark inside us. What matters is the part we choose to act on…that’s who we really are. • Sirius Black

Resources:

The @wolfstarlibrarian’s Guides to Betaing and Commenting

International Suicide Hotlines

A special thank you to those who let me interview them in the process of making this post. I appreciated your time, insights, and perspectives and was honored that you trusted me with your stories.

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brockadoodles · 3 years

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surprises - n. mackinnon

AN: I completely forgot about this fic until @sportmodepetey asked me about writing for Nate and I remembered that I had!! So here is this, I promise it’s all fluff and softness and not my usual angst. I’m gonna tag @hockeyboysiguess too because she might yell at me for waking her up again with another fic. Also I think I promised an anon I would repost this forever ago and then I forgot sooo.. If you come back anon, here ya go!

Word Count: 5148

Warnings: Babies!!!

Your hands shook as you delicately picked up the test in your hands. Holding one end between your fingers, you glanced at your reflection in the bathroom mirror. Your eyes looked heavy, filled with worry and your hair was disheveled from how anxiously you had been running your hands through it the last three minutes.

If you had to guess, you would assume that most people your age would be scared of a positive pregnancy test, but you were feeling the opposite. Your heart was racing and you had an uneasy feeling in your stomach, trying to work up the courage to see the result.

Lately, Nathan would look at the results for you. He said it was his way of protecting you from the feeling of disappointment, a sentiment you appreciated, even if every result was still negative. They all had been negative for the last year and a half, why would the next one be any different?

No one prepared you for what it would be like to have trouble getting pregnant, it was never a thought that crossed your mind. When you and Nate got married, the idea of children wasn’t even on the radar. You were both young, he was in the prime of his career, it just didn’t make any sense to start trying at 25. Now that you both were 30, and it was becoming clear just how difficult it was, you were starting to regret not trying sooner.

It was hard not to feel like you were failing your husband, but your body just wasn’t cooperating. It wasn’t for the lack of trying, the two of you had sex all the time. You tracked your ovulation schedule, tried every superstitious trick, and yet each time that familiar wave of disappointment hit you as you’d see Nate’s face falter when looking at the pregnancy test. It was especially frustrating because doctors told you that everything was normal, and sometimes it just takes time to conceive naturally.

Nate never did anything to make you feel inadequate, he was always supportive of you. Holding you while you cried, reassuring you that you were always good enough, no matter what happened. But most importantly, he never lost faith in you, he constantly reminded you that growing a human is hard work, and maybe your body is just taking extra time to prepare. He was always so calm, genuinely believing that it would happen for the two of you when it was meant to happen. That’s why he tried as often as he could to bear the burden of looking at the test for you. If he could take away any sadness you were feeling, he would.

But today, Nate wasn’t here. The Avalanche were on a week-long road trip in New York and he wasn’t due back for a couple of more days. You bit your lip, diverting your eyes away from the mirror and back down towards the white plastic stick resting in your right hand. You didn’t tell Nate, feeling like it wasn’t worth getting his hopes up only to let him down once again.

Your own hopes were high this time, something in your body just felt different. You had symptoms that you hadn’t experienced yet the other times you thought you were pregnant. You took a deep breath and finally shifted your gaze down to the test, eyeing it carefully.

Your stomach dropped seeing the word “pregnant” in the little results window of the test. You rubbed your eyes quickly and looked again, thinking maybe you were projecting your hopes and that your eyes were deceiving you. When you saw the same result, you quickly ripped open another test and went over to the toilet.

Those second three minutes were probably the most nerve wracking of your entire life. You had never had a positive pregnancy result, and after how long you had been trying it was hard to believe that it wasn’t some sort of fluke or false positive.

When the three minutes were up, you hastily grabbed the test, wasting no time to look at the result. When you read the word pregnant again, you looked back up at your reflection in the mirror. Your eyes were glassy with fresh tears, but you looked happier than you had been a few minutes prior. You took a slight step back from the sink, placing the test onto the marble countertop and placed a hand gently on your lower stomach, slowly rubbing your fingers across your skin.

It took every bit of willpower that you had to not spill the secret to Nate when he came home that week, but you knew that with how long you had both been waiting, that you wanted to confirm with the doctor before giving him the news. The many months of disappointment had caused you to guard your heart, and you couldn’t fathom sharing the news with Nate only to have it ripped apart from the both of you if it ended up not being true.

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A few nights later, you were tossing and turning, finding yourself unable to sleep. You looked over at Nate, unable to sleep. His back was facing you and his breaths were deep. His flight had gotten in late, him not getting back home until around 2:30am. When he leaned in to kiss your forehead softly before slipping into bed, you had been asleep. But when he wrapped his arm around you and rested his large hand on your stomach you woke up, suddenly worried that maybe he knew you were pregnant.

This was a ridiculous thought to have, Nate didn’t even know you had taken tests while he was gone, and he always pulled you close at night, but you couldn’t help but feel your anxiety levels rise.

“I know something’s bothering you.” You jumped at the sound of his voice, groggy and full of sleep. Before you spoke back, Nate turned himself to face you before running his hand over his face and up through his hair to wake himself up a bit. It was 5:47am but because it was still winter, the sky was pitch black outside.

“M’fine, baby, go back to sleep.” You tried to reason, reaching your hand up to rub his cheek, fingers gliding softly over the stubble that had grown in on his face. Nate relaxed into your touch and leaned down to press a slow kiss to your forehead before resting his head in the crook of your neck.

He peppered light kisses on your neck, humming out,

“Did something happen this week?”

“No.” You lied, using your hand to tilt his head back up, bringing your lips to his.

“Just missed you.” You added, deepening the kiss. It wasn’t a complete lie, you did miss him and now that he was home kissing you, you couldn’t help but press yourself closer into him, needing to feel his touch.

Soft moans filled the room as lazily dipped in and out of you. You felt your anxieties slipping away as each moment passed. What started as a means to distract Nate also became a release for you, and you fell back asleep feeling safe and content in his arms.

You woke up a few hours later to the smell of freshly brewed coffee filling the bedroom. You sat up and pulled your hair into a messy low bun before you leaned over the edge of the bed, slowly pulling yourself out of the covers and getting up. You stood up and pulled Nate’s shirt down over your body from where it had risen up earlier that morning. You subconsciously ran a hand over your abdomen, smiling to yourself before heading out the bedroom door and into the kitchen where Nate was sitting at the island, coffee cup in hand.

“Morning.” You said, coming up behind him and pressing a kiss to the back of his shoulder. You leaned around him to grab an apple from the fruit basket and took a bite into it. Nate turned his body slightly toward you, pulling you slightly so that you were facing him, standing between his legs.

“How was the trip?” You asked, smiling softly at him. His fingers pressed into your sides, pulling up the shirt that was draped over your body as he rubbed small, comforting circles into your hips.

“You watched all of the games.” He smirked up at you before pressing his lips to yours in a kiss.

“Mhm, yeah but I still like to know how your trip was.” You hummed out in between soft kisses. Nate tried to pull you closer and deepen the kiss but you felt your stomach lurch. The taste of coffee on his lips made you feel nauseous all of a sudden. You felt bile rising in your throat, threatening to come out and ruin the tender moment between you and your husband.

You pulled away quickly and Nate furrowed his brow at your sudden need to separate yourself from his touch.

“You alright?” He spoke.

“I, uh, I think my period just came.” You stumbled out, averting your eyes from his as you ran into your shared bathroom. You quickly turned on the shower to drown out the sounds of emptying your stomach. Once you felt a bit better, you stood up, flushing the toilet and washing your hands. You brushed your teeth and made a mental note to make a doctor’s appointment for as quickly as possible to 100% confirm your pregnancy. You still felt a bit nauseous, but a part of you was relieved to be feeling sick, as it was another sign that the home tests had been right. You didn’t want to keep the news from Nate for too long, just long enough to plan a special way to let him know he was going to be a dad.

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You sat in the driver’s seat of your car, holding the small ultrasound photo in your hands. The doctor had confirmed what you felt to be true, you were 13 weeks pregnant. Your doctor gave you a list of prenatal vitamins to pick up on your way home. The Avalanche had a big home game that night and you were eager to be there, not only to cheer on Nate but because you knew just how you wanted to tell him.

You stood next to Aleks, glancing down at her and Nikita’s daughter Sophie. She was wearing a small Avalanche jersey, Zadorav printed in white on the back. Your heart swelled at the sight, knowing that someday soon, your own child will be wearing their own little MacKinnon jersey.

“Do you think you can get Z to help me with something? He has to keep it a secret though.” You asked Aleks, taking a sip out of your water bottle. She eyed you suspiciously, looking from you to your drink. You felt nervous under her stare, knowing that she was technically going to be the first person you told the good news to.

“You’re pregnant.” She smirked, saying it bluntly. You choked a bit on your water before looking up at her in surprise. You quickly looked down to your stomach, which was covered with a loose fitting top. Your “wag” jacket that matched the other girls around you came out to cover the sides of your hips. There was no way she could have known based on your appearance, you weren’t far enough along for there to be signs.

“You’re drinking water, you never drink that here.” She smiled. You bit your lip, cursing yourself for having a strict pregame ritual of drinking a beer during warmups. You nodded at her, not wanting to say it outloud as Nate came skating up to where the two of you were standing. Your eyes focused on your husband, who was now balancing a puck on the end of his stick. He tossed it over the glass to you, winking at you as you caught it, a tradition he started after the first game he invited you back when you had just started dating.

You looked around, spotting a young boy who looked to be around 7 or 8, dressed head to toe in Avs gear standing just a few seats over from you. You leaned over and tapped his shoulder, smiling at him and offering the puck. Nate’s tradition was to give you a puck and yours was to pay it forward and give it to a fan in the crowd. More often than not you chose to give it to a kid, knowing just how much it probably meant to them to receive something from a player that they looked up to.

The little boy eagerly nodded at you and took the puck from your hands before turning toward who you assumed to be his dad.

“Wow, what do you say to the nice woman, bud?” The man said, smiling at you in thanks.

“Thank you!” the boy exclaimed, wrapping his small arms around your leg in a quick hug before looking up at you.

“You’re welcome.” You smiled, looking toward his father to get permission to hug the child back. He nodded at you, and you wrapped your arms quickly around the young boy. Nate watched the exchange from the blue line, passing a puck back and forth with Gabe. He couldn’t help but sigh in sadness. He wanted a baby so badly, and while he understood that it would happen when it was meant to, he always felt a touch of worry when he thought too hard about the what ifs. The moment passed as quickly as it came and he focussed his thoughts solely on the game ahead of him.

“So what do you need Z to do?” Your attention turned back to Aleks.

“Well I haven’t told Nate yet, I was hoping Z and the boys could help me.” You said, leaning in a bit closer to her so that the people around you couldn’t hear you. The last thing you needed was for the news to end up all over Twitter. Granted, Nate didn’t use Twitter but still.

Just as you mentioned him, Nikita came skating up to where the three of you were standing. He tapped the glass quickly in front of his daughter, before waving quickly at all of you and skating away. If there was anyone that would help, it would be him. He was so in love with his children, but also wild enough to want to participate in what you had planned.

A few days later you found yourself on a group FaceTime call with some of Nate’s teammates, laughing as they loudly spoke over each other about the plan you had come up with. You knew that you had to incorporate his teammates and hockey into the reveal, being as his team was one of the most important aspects of his life. You knew that he couldn’t wait to someday share that with his kids, bringing them to games and teaching them how to skate.

After JT and Tyson argued over whether Nate was going to cry or not, Gabe cut them off and grabbed your attention.

“Do you know what you’re having yet?” You looked at Gabe curiously, almost instantly thinking of a new task that the boys could all help you with.

“Actually I want you guys to tell us.” You spoke into the screen. This grabbed everyone’s attention.

“What can we do?” Tyson beamed at you.

“Well I have this envelope the doctor gave me, I was going to just open it with Nate but maybe you guys could come up with something to share the news with us.”

“Like a party?” Nikita jumped in. You would have felt nervous about it, but Z had done this before and you knew he wouldn’t do anything too crazy.

“Yes, you can throw a party if you want.” You smiled back at him.

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Nate turned his car on, blasting the heat. It was early, he was tired, and the last thing he wanted to be doing was heading to the rink for an obscenely early morning skate. Gabe had mentioned that everyone needed to be at the rink by 7 that morning, some sort of last minute meeting before practice. He was annoyed but he knew better than to question his captain. He reached down to shift the car into gear when he noticed a note taped to the gear shift. He recognized your handwriting immediately, smiling to himself as he picked the small piece of paper up.

Good morning my love, Snow is still falling, but warm things are coming. If you’re wondering what the next note consists of, When you get to the rink, check your right glove.

Nate reread the note a few times, unsure of what it meant. He quickly set it onto the passenger seat, reminding himself to look inside his gloves when he got to the arena like it said.

When Nate pulled into the parking garage he immediately felt confused. So far, his car was the only one he could see. He glanced at the clock on his phone before double checking that Gabe’s message actually said 7am. It was 6:45am and no one else was there. He was normally a bit early, but never the first one to practice. He shook his head, getting out of the car and grabbing the remainder of his gear from the trunk. Maybe everyone was as tired as he was and just was running a bit behind, he thought as he walked into the practice facility.

Nate took his time changing and putting on his padding, figuring that there was no reason to rush if he was the only one there so far. The note from the car completely slipped his mind. It wasn’t until he grabbed his gloves that he remembered to check inside for something. He felt around the inside of the glove before pulling out another small piece of paper with your handwriting on it.

Congrats, you found clue number two. Although it’s probably not clear what you have to do. You’re probably wondering why everyone is late, Forget about them and head to the place where we sat on our first date.

Nate read the note once more before setting it in his stall and heading out toward the rink. He smiled at the memory of your first date. By all standards, it should have been a disaster. Looking back he isn’t quite sure how he managed to get a second date out of it. He had planned brunch for the two of you, wanting to take you to a little whole in the wall cafe in downtown Denver. Instead, the coaches decided that after their last three losses, they needed an extra conditioning practice. Rather than cancel on you, he asked if you wanted to come watch practice and have lunch afterwards. Much to his surprise you said yes.

He had a terrible practice that day, and he thought for sure that his negative attitude toward his teammates would prevent you from ever wanting to see him again. Instead, after practice, the two of you sat in the stands for two hours just talking about anything and everything while some junior hockey team practiced in the background. You didn’t even express annoyance when some of the players came up to him to say hello after their practice, instead you smiled and listened as he interacted with the younger players.

He left the locker room and headed over to the bench where the two of you sat all of those years ago, he knew exactly where it was that you were sitting. Remembering the dark green sweater you had worn that day, and the scarf you had around your neck to keep warm while he practiced.

When he walked up toward the bench he saw another small note taped to it. He picked it up and opened it.

Welcome to clue number three, This one marks you being halfway done, but I’m just starting the fun. If you search through the practice pucks, you just might find the next one.

Nate was beginning to wonder what this whole scavenger hunt was leading to. You were not the type of person to be able to keep secrets when it came to surprises. If anyone was going to spill about a surprise, it would be you. You always said that you just got too excited to share whatever it was with whoever the person was that you couldn’t be trusted to keep any exciting secrets. He was curious as to how you managed to pull off some sort of prize for him.

Nate set his sticks and gloves down on the players bench and walked into the equipment area to grab the bag of practice pucks. He dumped the bag out and the pucks started sliding haphazardly across the ice. He knew it would be faster than trying to dig through the bag.

His eyes scanned the pucks, looking for a few moments before spotting one with paper sticking out underneath it. He stepped out onto the ice and skated over to where the puck was. He leaned down to pick it up, carefully taking the note off of the puck before skating back over to the boards to lean against them while reading the new clue.

Sorry you had to make that mess, but I promise it’ll be for the best. Don't forget to put the pucks away and then head back to where you always begin game day.

Nate slowly gathered his mess on the ice, stacking the pucks up then sliding them into the bags, before stepping off the ice and heading back toward the dressing room.

When Nate got back to his stall he was confused to see a small gift bag sitting on top of the bench. He looked quickly around the locker room to see if any of the other guys had shown up. It was definitely past time that Gabe said everyone had to be here, yet even Gabe himself hadn’t yet arrived for practice. He picked up the small grey bag and sat down on the bench.

He slowly pulled out the white and gold tissue paper that was stuffed in the top of the bag, setting it down next to him. He reached his hand down into the bag, instantly feeling something extremely soft on his fingers. He lifted the item out and furrowed his brows in confusion at it. He was holding a small stuffed animal version of Bernie, the Avalanche team mascot. He figured maybe the bag was meant for another teammate who had kids.

As Nate was putting the mini Bernie back in the bag, he noticed the back of Bernie’s jersey was different. Instead of “Bernie” printed in white, it said “MacKinnon” and just underneath the name was 29. He knew there must be another clue somewhere and he began to look around his stall for any piece of paper that might have come from you.

He spotted something next to his name plaque, and sure enough it was another folded up note from you.

Now that you’ve revealed all I had to hide, pack up your gear and head where you park your ride.

Nate shook his head, but obliged by what the note said, packing his gear back up quickly so that he could head back to what he hoped was the reveal of whatever grand scheme you were planning.

About 20 minutes later, he walked out to the parking garage and saw you leaning up against his car. You beamed up at him, pulling yourself away from the car and walking toward him.

There were butterflies in your stomach, not only were you about to share with your husband the news, you also were able to share that you knew the sex of the baby.

“Not that I didn’t love this little adventure, but what’s going on?”

“Well, Nate, I think you have to read your last clue.” You smiled, reaching into your back pocket and handing him the envelope. This was it, you thought. Nate was going to know in a matter of seconds, and you could barely contain the smile on your face.

Nate set his equipment bag down next to the car and then gently took the envelope out of your hand. You watched in suspense as he carefully opened it, pulling out the note and sonogram inside.

“Read it outloud.” You encouraged, giving him another wide smile.

“Congratulations the riddles are coming to an end, just know that you’ll have a lot of messages to send. Enjoy the next few months of us on standby, because baby MacKinnon will be making their debut this July.” Nate’s voice cracked at the end of the clue, he slid the small paper over and looked at the ultrasound now in his hand. His eyes welled up with tears and he quickly looked back up at you.

“You’re pregnant?” He spoke quietly, unsure of if this was all real or some horrible joke you were in on with the team. He didn’t think you would mess around with something this serious, but he also couldn’t believe what he was looking at.

Your eyes were also glossing over with tears, feeling an unprecedented amount of joy. You nodded quickly at your husband, taking another step towards him.

“You’re really pregnant?” He asked again, this time with more conviction.

“Yes, Nate. We’re having a baby.” You cried happily, wiping a couple of tears that had begun to cascade down your own cheeks. Nate wasted no time grabbing you and pulling you into a hug.

“I can’t believe this, we’re really having a baby?” He asked one more time, pulling the two of you apart just enough to press one hand flush against your stomach. You nodded in response and leaned up to kiss him.

“Wait there’s another surprise.” You smiled, pecking him on the lips one more time before gesturing to his car.

“I’m not sure anything can top this one.” He replied, quickly looking around for your car before adding,

“Wait how did you get here?”

“Aleks dropped me off, I wanted to be able to drive home with you.” You answered nonchalantly, making a move to open up the passenger side of the car.

The ride home was quiet, Nate drove carefully, with one hand rubbing softly against your thigh. You watched the snow covered buildings pass by you as he continued down the route back to your home.

You were nervous as he pulled onto the street that you lived on, immediately recognizing some of the cars parked sporadically near the house. Nate looked around as he slowly pulled into the driveway.

“Why does it look like the team decided to have practice at the house?” He smirked at you, knowing there obviously was something going on.

“I don’t know, let’s go find out.” You teased, knowing fully why they were all there. You didn’t know what their plan was, but you did hand over your keys that morning to Aleks after she dropped you off, heading back to help the boys with the surprise.

When you walked into your house, you couldn’t believe all of the work the team had managed to pull off in the short amount of time that you’d been gone. There were pastel streamers and balloons draped carefully around the living and dining room. The dining table had an arrangement of fruits and breakfast type pastries for everyone. And out back you could see a set up of a goal covered in white balloons. You jokingly wondered which one of them logged onto Pinterest to get all of these ideas.

Nate looked around in awe. He felt like he was in a dream, one that he was desperate to not wake up from. The two of you had been trying for so long that he hadn’t really allowed himself to think of what it would feel like to have it happen. Having his team there to take part in the celebrations was an added bonus.

“Nate dogg, come outside you need to shoot some pucks.” Gabe slapped a hand on your husband’s back, nodding toward the net that was set up out back.

“Wait, do you know what we’re having?” He quickly turned to you, setting his cup of coffee down on the table near where you were standing. You shook your head slightly, motioning toward the rest of his teammates that were all starting to head out to the backyard.

“No, this is all them.” You smiled, grabbing his hand and leading him outside.

Nate stepped up toward the goal, grabbing his stick from EJ, who was dressed up in the most embarrassing outfit anyone could have imagined. He stood tall, wearing a bonnet over his head and what appeared to be a giant diaper costume that you’d probably find in the clearance section at a Halloween store because it was so ugly.

“Oh my god, what are you wearing?” Nate shook his head at his teammate.

“I lost a bet to Graves.” He rolled his eyes, glancing over at Ryan and shaking his head. “Doesn’t matter, shoot the damn puck.” He added, pushing Nate slightly toward the goal.

Nate fired back a shot, instantly breaking a couple of balloons, silver confetti flying everywhere. He realized quickly that he needed to start shooting to pop all of the balloons, shaking his head at his teammates' knock off best shooter competition idea.

When the puck went flying into the last balloon, pink and purple confetti started flying everywhere. Nate felt like he was moving in slow motion, dropping the stick and running to grab you. He could hear the cheers from everyone around him but all that mattered was you.

He picked you up, twirling you around quickly before gently setting you down. You reached your hand up to wipe the tears from under his eyes, smiling widely knowing that you were having a baby girl. You always knew Nate wanted a girl, believing he would be the best “girl dad” so you knew this moment was extra special for him.

The two of you stood close for a few moments, ignoring the commotion happening around you and savouring the moment.

“You owe me $50, I told you he would cry.” Tyson argued with JT

“I single tear doesn’t count, idiot.” JT shot back.

You laughed at the two boys, leaning your head into Nate’s chest and looking at the scene around you. It may have taken a long time to get here, but you couldn’t be more excited for the family you were creating, knowing that your baby girl was going to be loved by so many.

#bye i love that gif #nathan mackinnon #nathan mackinnon x reader #nathan mackinnon imagine #nathan mackinnon fic #avs imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fic

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vtforpedro · 3 years

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medical update and stuff. trigger warnings in tags I’m extremely frustrated. it’s been 15 months of frustration lol so so so sick of doctors, so sick of living through this. I am tired and getting no relief you might remember, but I was given a ‘possible’ IIH diagnosis in October. we’ve been treating it like it is IIH, which means everything has always been real etc etc and the treatment is weight loss. started my ‘better eating habits’ on nov 1st. then I immediately had the thing with my chemo pill packing on a ton of excess fluid, worsening my head to the point of ER and calling my neurosurgeon, getting taken off my chemo pill, and it wasn’t until mid-december that I actually started to see any fucking weight loss cause of that my pcp told me 5lbs a month. so I’ve been right on track with that despite wishing I could lose 10 a month but that’d be starving myself so lol I’ve lost 15lbs but now something exciting is happening again!! I am retaining fluid and I have NO idea why. which means my head is now as bad as it was last summer when everything was at its worse. constant all day long, pills barely doing anything for me, vision issues, pain issues. it feels like something broke in the base of my skull/neck because I get the scariest sensations there. it’s horrible. no human being should have to live this way and I do it every single day, numerous times a day anyway I had to go to the ER last thursday A G A I N because a doctor sent me. my pupils were noticeably two different sizes. I’d noticed three days beforehand and convinced myself I was imagining it cause it wasn’t a huge difference. finally took a picture and no, def not the same size and my eye looked like it was going inward? anyway, called my pcp, they had me come in that day, he saw it from a foot and a half away, sat back, and said I need you to go to the ER, you need your brain looked at. so again, I’ve been seeing this for three days while my head has been 10/10 extreme due to pressure in it. I get there and have to wait a while but less than two hours later when they finally looked at me? gone. pupils back to normal. doctor talking down to me like I was just an anxious mess and not that another dr sent me cause he saw what I did lol and his notes were in my chart. so, wasted visit and they put a covid patient 15ft from me and intubated them, so get to remember what that sounds like forever and ever (covid patients are supposed to be separated from other ER patients). now I’m doing a 10 day quarantine while I am so severely disabled I cannot bend over to take care of my cats food/litter/etc and it’s why my mom half lives with me but she can’t right now :) getting a covid test in three hours and it’s been eight days with nothing but head issues + fluid retention so hoping it’s negative the fluid retention I had before was a side effect of my chemo pill. I don’t know why this is happening. I should be 17lbs down now and I’ve actually gained weight despite being on the same diet that lost me the 15. I’m back to 13lbs down. this makes me feel like I might be carrying 4lbs of water weight. let me break this down because yesterday a PA told me my symptoms were too ‘ambiguous’ to say if fluid retention is happening or not - fluid retention from the chemo pill was ALL felt in my stomach. it was distended and bloated like I’d eaten at a buffet every single day - head got massively worse, enough to go to the er, doc and I agreed the fluid retention causing me to fluctuate between 15lbs was making the IIH worse - not urinating often despite drinking a normal amount - got on a diuretic, seven days later the weight was gone, head was better, started losing weight this is what I’m experiencing now - fluid retention that is causing my stomach to feel very bloated and look/feel distended - head has gotten massively worse, enough to send me to the ER - should be losing weight, have actually gained weight on a low fat, low calorie diet - the only difference this time is that I am dehydrating myself (yes I know, bad, but it is literally saving my life) because I experimented one day with half my water intake and my head was miles better. still experiencing a terrible head episode once or twice a day but it’s not 10/10 constantly - and the second difference is despite not drinking enough water, I am actually urinating more often and it’s a lot more clear than it should be, the color I expect when I’m hydrating well I consider this ^^^^^ to be a good case of why I think I have fluid retention but being told my symptoms were ‘ambiguous’ and throwing me to my neurosurgeon instead is HNNNNG (esp because diuretics are known to help IIH symptoms FOR THIS EXACT REASON) I have VERY recently had my sugars checked a few times, glucose is normal. VERY recently had an abdominal CT, also normal. it’s not diabetes, it’s not something happening in my abdomen. they hear abdomen vs legs swelling and think it’s GI because doctors never fucking listen and actively put their patients in danger but o h w e l l, I guess anyway as it’s been for 15 months, I am stuck between a rock and a hard place. I go this way and experience agony, I go that way and experience agony I need extra hydration for weight loss, leukemia, being obese. I need less hydration because it worsens IIH to the point of 10/10 I want to die (which makes me heavily and actively suicidal. doctors see I take anti-depressants and assume idk I’m being dramatic but no, it’s really this fucking bad. I would rather die that moment than keep feeling what’s happening in my head) there’s like no middle ground and my body and these doctors are making it impossible to figure this shit out. my mom had to come over at 1:45 AM last night (hasn’t had to rush here since april 2020 cause that’s just how bad it is) because I lost my balance twice and was lucky I had something to catch onto or I would’ve been on the ground (neuro symptoms which could be IIH, could be chiari, could be stroke) and my speech got SUPER bad almost immediately. scared the hell out of me, I have never in my life lost balance that badly before things are going downhill and I would’ve thought losing weight they’d start improving but when has my body ever made this easy lol meeting a new neurologist on monday who works in the same building with my neurosurgeon. I’ve been avoiding them cause every single one of them told me I was just anxious despite specific physical movements causing an episode lmao but hopefully this guy is better and he has access to all of my neurosurgeon’s notes and stuff. I can’t keep dehydrating myself but at the same time I can’t let my head get so bad I make a farewell note for my mom, you know? it’s just been really bad and I don’t know how to get people to listen to me. I have a 99% diagnosis and they still don’t take me as seriously as they should. this has ruined my quality of life and they would have you believe that doctors take that seriously but they do not neurosurgeon wants me to see an ophthalmologist again cause of my vision issues and to check for specific things that relate to IIH. he wants another MRI done in early may cause it’s been a year since my last one by then (actually a month later, my last one was in april, but I’m curious if the neurologist will order one sooner) to check to see if anything has worsened so yeah living in absolute hell again and don’t know if I can just get a simple one week diuretic to get this fluid out of my body. what the FUCK else can it be when I’ve experienced this exact thing twice!! before. it happened to a much, much lesser degree the first time I got on the chemo pill. but the same shit :) hanging on by the thinnest thread guys and 15 months of feeling like I’m going to die almost every single day through that has destroyed my psyche. destroyed me as a person. I don’t know what to do anymore sorry this is all a lot of Bad™ but it’s been a lot of bad for 15 months. if I can keep going, I hope one day to be able to give an update of improvement love you all

#medical #medical trauma #tw suicidal thoughts #personal #long post

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thevoidismyhome2000 · 3 years

Text

Falsified Delusions - A list of Facts about the World

(Some of these facts are subject to change, and the list isn’t comprehensive. I’m sure I’ll be adding new facts and such as we go on)

I’ll tag everyone involved/whoever is interested!

@dulceringo, @09shell-sea09, @zu-is-here, @kotikaleo, @help-im-a-gay-fish, @yuriyuruandyuraart, and whoever else wants to know this stuff!

Some facts about Falsified Delusions:

Nightmare (We know him as either False Dream or Delusion Nightmare):

- Hates being called Boss

- Refuses to be called anything but Beacon

- Killer, Cross, and Horror are followers who've been hooked onto his positivity

- Delusion Nightmare likes to bring his hooked followers to Dream like a cat likes to bring its prey to its owner.

- Our dear little winged boy ate the positive apple so he could be loved just like how Dream is loved. He (unlike Shattered Dream) did not eat the apple to understand Dream or show Dream he understood. He did it purely so he could be as loved as Dream.

- Only Dream has a pass on calling Delusion Nightmare Beacon, but only because Delusion Nightmare only answers to "Brother" from Dream

- If he met Shattered Dream, SD Dream (SwapDream), and DS Dream (DreamSwap), they'd have a range of reactions: Shattered Dream dislikes (though Hates could be a good word too) Delusion Nightmare. SD Dream hates(?) Delusion Nightmare. DS Dream absolutely whole-heartedly loves Delusion Nightmare (DS Dream calls him False Dream and is the only one besides regular Dream to get away with not calling Delusion Nightmare Beacon) and is confused on why Dream doesn't support his brother's mission.

- His positivity is like a drug, with relapses and overdosing and withdrawal symptoms (withdrawal symptoms are worse the longer you are under the positivity and the more times you relapse after getting clean). I won't be descriptive but let's just say Nightmare's positivity is really really addicting, to the point where some may not be able to live without it.

- Accidentally became king of the multiverse through spreading his positivity.

- I like Kotikaleo's headcanon that Delusion Nightmare chose to emulate Dream's current outfit with his looks, so yeah, that is a thing, lol

Dream (I don't think we've come up with any nicknames for him)

- I like Kotikaleo's headcanon that Dream doesn't like what Delusion Nightmare is doing.

- Dream has a very close relationship to Ink and Blue, and the two are willing to help him try to maintain balance how ever they can.

- Dream carries around a negative apple from the tree of Feelings

Error (Depends on the incarnation: FGOD, Canon, and Mama):

FGOD Error:

- FGOD Error avoids Delusion Nightmare like the plague and actually helps Dream out quite a bit with balancing things.

- In this, FGOD Error and the 'Good' Sanses have a far closer ??? relationship compared to the original iteration (Thank you Harrish6!)

- Nothing else really changes, lol.

Canon Error:

- Canon Error gets in Dream's way, a lot.

- But also fights Delusion Nightmare equally.

- He's mostly just a loose cannon that Dream doesn't fully know what to make of.

Mama Error:

- Mama Error is 100% on Delusion Nightmare's side and is probably the most loyal to Delusion Nightmare's cause (Many children to adopt who are all happy as peaches)

- Dream is unsettled by Mama Error.

- Mama Error tries to smother Dream and adopt him as well (But Dream can run really well!)

Ink....remains his chaotic gremlin self with some self-control (he stops making pure negative AUs because Delusion targets those AUs to gain really loyal simps followers)

Blue:

- Closest to Dream

- Often helps keep pacifist and neutral AUs safe from Delusion Nightmare (even helping out negative ones before Delusion Nightmare can get there if possible)

- Knows Dream carries a negative apple and knows why.

- Honestly a little chaotic but well-meaning for Dream.

The Gang:

Killer:

- Was the first recruited by Delusion Nightmare

- His soul is now Primarily Gold and Red

- Still a flirt, but a little more strict about things (no one with a weapon is allowed within 15 feet of Beacon or so help Killer, someone is gonna be in a body bag!)

Horror:

- Was the second one recruited

- The chef of the crew (not a single tea leaf or fruit enters the castle that doesn't first go through Horror, for Beacon's protection)

- Pretty chill.

- Allows Beacon to make his own tea and stuff (but Horror is hovering there anyways, making sure the wonderful Beacon doesn't burn himself!)

Cross:

- Third to be recruited.

- The most possessive of Beacon.

- Beacon loves how dependent Cross is on him

- Cross is also the most bodyguard secret service of the bunch. Literally willing to take arrows, paint, and literal bullets for Beacon. (Beacon cut himself with a knife and Cross ran from the training grounds all the way to the kitchen on the other side of the estate to check on Beacon)

~~~~~~~

Feel free to offer your own ideas about these guys (some of these are negotiable, some are not: Delusion Nightmare being called Beacon by everyone except Dream (and DS Dream maybe) is nonnegotiable. The positivity Delusion Nightmare produces being a drug is nonnegotiable. And The reason Delusion Nightmare ate the apple is nonnegotiable. Everything else pretty much can be shuffled around to suit whatever.

Also, it seems like we are gonna get an askblog up and running for Falsified Delusion/Falsified Delusions, so keep an eye out, I’ll be posting an update with a link to the blog when it’s up!

#Falsified Delusion #Falsified Delusions #my writing #headcanons? Can they be called headcanons if you are the progentior of the AU?

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