Mentioned this before but as much as I adore the medic Leo headcanon, my favorite type of it is when it’s basically just Leo knowing the most surface level of stuff and carrying around a super basic first-aid kit in his pack. So he knows how to use gauze, and he’s got a ton of Jupiter Jim branded bandaids, and if you really needed it then he can hit you up with some ibuprofen but other than that? Nothing.
But. I love the idea that that changes post-invasion.
They’re pretty sturdy, all of them, so they can take more than one beating and really only need a bandaid for the fun of it. But the invasion hit harder than ice packs and “lots of rest” would help with, and I can bet that a post being beaten to a pulp Leo would have a lot of time on his hands to reflect and, maybe, learn a thing or two as he waits to get better.
It’s nothing excessive, not at first, but he watches veterinary videos, and live surgeries, and other videos in that same realm (because the books are, uh, a bit too jargon-y for him) multiple times over. Just so he knows. Just in case he needs to know.
In his pack, there’s a first-aid kit. With the use of a mini portal for extra space, the kit has grown to include everything from scalpels to butterfly stitches to sutures to even fiberglass patches.
And obviously the Jupiter Jim brand bandaids stay too.
hey guys am i allowed to say on main that i dont like metadad . am i gonna get beaten up for saying this.
guys i think we all took the term found family too literally and now everythings flattened into a boring nuclear family. guys can we stop. hello . is anybody there
hot take: this doesn’t work for people with adhd (in my experience/from what i’ve heard from other people with adhd in my life). i recommend doing the easy/moderately difficult stuff first, that way you can convince yourself that it’s all going to be this easy and undemanding. then hyper-focus will kick in because your brain is like, “yeah, we can do this, we’ve got this.” then, before you know it, you’ve completed both the easy tasks and the hard tasks while hyperfocusing.
like, on a serious note, it’s always been easier for me to convince myself to get the most difficult tasks done when i’m already working/in the working frame of mind, not when i’m laying in bed or sitting on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through stuff on my phone, and struggling to start at all.
if the choice comes down to you not starting at all or starting with the easiest task first (which, for me, it often does), always, always pick starting with the easiest task first. sometimes you need a small victory, a little bit of an accomplishment, to give you the courage to take on bigger challenges.
In an ideal world, a cake shop that only sells niche flavoured cakes would do as well as a cake shop that sells popular flavoured cakes.
But this is not the world we live in unfortunately. So instead of dwelling on the comparison between your niche work and other people's popular work, it is best to try and focus on the love and passion you have for your stuff and the fans you gain overtime who enjoy seeing your creations :)
Don't be shy in constantly sharing your stuff on your platform because there will always be at least one new person who can be potentially interested in what you have to offer.
well this morning as I woke up from a 4 or so hour night of sleep i had the brilliant idea of trying to fight Gabriel in 3-2 on Violent while listening to a youtube video, with no in-game music, relatively low in-game master sound and without having actually beaten him (on Violent) after having spent over three hours and a half exclusively trying to kick his ass a few days ago.
so. uhm. yeah. drew how it felt (while also remaining as vague as i could as to not upset anyone lol)
this was both surprisingly hard but also relatively quick? in a weird sort of way? idk girl
screenshots below if you care lol
the 3h30 hour attempt proof (i quit at fucking 3 am my wrists were sore as fuck)
the one successful attempt (was surprisingly quicker than expected)
so uh. yea. laughed really loudly when i did beat him and when he called me an insignificant fuck again. 11/10 will do again.
i haven't played minecraft in years, but with the armadillo winning the vote, i think about how wolves don't really have much going on in terms of their utility. like anytime i tame a wolf, i end up just kinda keeping them sitting at home.
i think if mojang really does feel like wolves are deserving of armour, with the addition of armadillos, they really need to update wolves to be more useful as companion mobs, because personally... i never feel the urge to bring a wolf with me when im going out to do things, especially if it involves combat.
like, what do dogs do best? fetching stuff and digging, right? like i wish that i could just mill about with a wolf and they track a scent or something and start digging into the dirt and then proceed to bring you that item. like it could range from rarely digging up iron nuggets to digging up vegetables or whatever, yknow. combine the fetching stuff with combat and you wouldn't have to manually pick up stray arrows or items from mobs your wolf kills.
the only other thing i wish you could do with wolves is automate their health in some way, like give more utility to the bowl item so you can place it down for them to eat from so you don't have to constantly manage their health by looking at their tail. just minor quality of life stuff i guess.
idk, that's just my thoughts. i do like wolves in minecraft, they just feel rather lacking with the way some new mobs have so much going on, like the sniffer and allay and so on.
i sense how on the contrary, when moon is in Zeph’s local group the members will all go ‘omg youre actually letting us do this’ or be surprised of her leniency with almost anything(or if she gets upset she wont be yelling her ass off and will try to remain calm), because of how Zeph would usually be so strict with em and they didnt expect better
see- first you gotta understand that the chancla doesn't really Hurt the iterators. while they definitely can feel through their puppets, those things are made to be sturdy (throw a normal or singularity bomb into Pebs' chamber,he's fine, i know he just doesn't have health but worldbuilding is worldbuilding so i guess a fully functional iterator is fine with blackhole into the head). it maybe stings for a sec but it's not worse than gettin pinched (also where did you get that she yells at em, she's only exclaimed so far i think. if you check how she handled Innocence, that's how she generally goes about it- no yellin for the sake of puttin 'em in place, she's just venting out her frustrations into the air)
the Point of the chancla is to get the target's unwavering attention so she can talk some sense into them WITHOUT using the senior privilege which is far more invading since it cuts straight through their systems and forces the juniors to stop everything to pay attention. these things are giant supercomputers! they are going to have a different perspective on what counts as "too much"/"too bad" than us humans! it isn't used to limit what they are doing unless the thing they are gon do is explicitly threatening to their safety, the limiting is what the Senior Privilege does!
in that lil comic with Pebs, Suns, Nish, Inn and her, she doesn't actually even hit Nish in the last panel, the chancla is only supposed to suddenly appear from behind next to his face n he gets startled + drama queen points. i've admitted in the tags of it that i gave up on the last page so i don't blame anyone for not gettin that since i haven't put enough effort into communicating it
with what she's doin back in her own group, she Needs to be this strict if she wants her plan of keeping everyone reliably long-term safe to work
and her groupmates would undeniably miss her. they love her! they don't want some lenient stranger without constant spice to her instead of their ramshackle beloved Azzie!!!!
Since them meeting at all is technically an AU i have 3 different ways that they do meet up. There's the one where Juniper ends up with the agency/adjacent to and ends up working with Reggie (have written a fic with this). The next one is Juniper surviving but basically going stealth and living as normal of a life as he can and ending up meeting Reggie through chance (most recent fic I've written). And then there's my personal favourite where Reginald "You're lucky my tracking skills are still up to snuff" Crane keeping himself busy after Phoenix was MIA and finding Juniper still alive (fic I want to write but haven't started mainly because it may end up multi chapter).
In terms of more AU canon bending taking them and putting them in a completely unrelated situation...I have a guilty pleasure Warrior Cats AU for IEYTD in general. Both JJ and Reggie have perfect warrior cats suffixes in their names already (Juniper and Crane) so they're called Junipersong (charcoal bengal) and Craneflight (tabby Norwegian forest cat). It's very silly but the amount of scenes I have in my mind for it...good lord...
#11. How was their first kiss like?
Augh my friend Imp wrote an absolutely excellent fic about it (tragically in the realm of unfinished Google docs) and I'm shaking their hand about it so hard. Basically Juniper kissing Reggie but he like wasn't ready/fully expecting it and Juniper absolutely panicking because he thinks he's misread every interaction between them both since they got closer. The second one is much sweeter though,,
Could you write a drabble for Mikoto and Shidou plus Blood? This request miiight be inspired by the fact that Mikoto mentions his body hurting a lot but doesn't seem to be receiving any medical treatment, either because Mahiru and Fuuta take priority or because there's no obvious cause, and therefore cure, to his pain...
👀👀👀 Thank you, this is such a good combo ough!! It's so interesting how much focus the others get when it comes to physical health, since Mikoto has clearly complained of his condition :( It looks like Milgram is trying to push the idea that he's completely oblivious to his alters, but I spun it where he's aware, just deep in denial. So have some Mikoto angst to get us hyped for Double!
Mikoto should be grateful. He was lucky. That’s what he kept repeating to himself. He had both of his eyes intact. Both his arms. He was strong enough to walk around freely. He wasn’t on the verge of death, or collapse. Thus, he should be grateful no one was offering him any help, because it meant he didn’t need it. He repeated it again. Maybe this time he would believe it.
With a groan, his body rolled out of bed. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d woken up actually feeling rested. Everything ached. His muscles tightened with soreness. His throat felt as raw as his knuckles, though he hadn’t been using either. He had no desire to lift his arms over his head, or twist around too much, so he didn’t change out of yesterday’s uniform. Maybe the belts and buckles had made it difficult to sleep. The theory wasn’t a convincing one, but dwelling on things like that had never gotten him anywhere.
He ran his fingers once through his hair, combing out a bit of the mess. Looking in a mirror was the last thing he needed. He made his way to the dining hall.
The others trickled in for breakfast. His appetite, at least, hadn’t suffered. He hardly noticed the others giving him wide-eyed stares. What were they expecting? Of course he was looking worse for wear, given the circumstances. He ignored them, glad to focus on the hot meal before him.
A hand weighed heavy on his shoulder.
“Mikoto,” Shidou’s voice may have remained calm, but it was urgent. “Do you need some help?”
“Huh?” He shrugged his hand away, offering a weak smile. “I’m fine! Oh, I think Kazui was saving a seat for you over there, if you --”
“-- How about we go to my cell for a moment? Or yours, if that would be more comfortable.”
What was everyone’s problem this morning? Mikoto did his best to keep his voice pleasant. “Really, man, I’m good.”
Shidou’s expression remained unmoving. Very carefully, he informed him, “you’re bleeding. Pretty badly by the look of it. You’re coming with me.”
Mikoto blinked. He looked over his shoulder, following Shidou’s gaze. The back of his uniform was torn across the center. A significant splotch of blood seeped into the material, growing even larger as he shifted to see it.
“...Oh…”
Back in Shidou’s cell, sad to have left his breakfast plate behind, he slumped into a chair. Shidou gathered together some supplies. As always, he got right to the point. “What happened?”
“I… I’m not sure. I don’t remember anything from last night. I don’t remember most nights, recently. I know that sounds crazy, but…”
“It’s fine. I have definitely heard crazier.” He smiled, something gentle and reassuring. As usual, there was something hidden behind his eyes. It was as if he already knew what Mikoto was up to late at night that earned him so much soreness the following days. He didn’t offer an explanation, though. Mikoto didn’t press him for one.
He winced as he was helped out of his uniform. Removing his shirt revealed the mysterious gash. Shidou’s eyes widened at the array of scratches and scars. Some were fresh, but most originated long before Milgram. Though he didn’t ask, Mikoto answered.
“I’m pretty clumsy, huh?” Maybe this time he would believe it.
Shidou was kind enough to pretend to. “Here, allow me…”
Shidou got to work cleaning and dressing the injuries. Mikoto closed his eyes. Even though the disinfectant stung, and sometimes those gloved fingers pressed a little two hard, it felt nice to have things patched up.
“Is there anything else going on? Are you feeling pain anywhere else?”
Mikoto could have laughed. He didn’t. “I’m just sore. And my head’s been killing me, but I’m used to migraines. Perks of the verdict, I’m sure.”
Shidou hummed in thought.
“Thanks, by the way. I’ll try to be more careful.” Not that he had much choice in the matter, it seemed. But he’d do his best.
Shidou kept his face straight, but there were traces of pain in his voice. “I will too. I’m sorry, Mikoto. If I had known… I’ve been distracted lately, but I should have paid closer attention.”
“It’s fine,” he flashed a grin. “I know the others are pretty fucked up. And I’m not dying or anything. I’m lucky, you know?”
“I wouldn’t say so. Doctors don’t only treat the dying.”
Mikoto frowned.
It didn’t take much longer to finish treatment. Shidou gave him a few instructions about the bandages, then offered him a clean shirt. “You’re good to go. I’ll be checking in more often, now. I’ll see if I can find something for your head.”
“Thanks. Really.”
He returned Mikoto’s torn uniform. “You should talk to Es about getting a new one. Until then, you’ll want to clean this with --”
Mikoto waved a dismissive hand, heading out of the cell. “Don’t worry, I know how to wash blood out of my clothes. Er, that sounds bad. I’m just a clutz, yeah? The blood’s always been my own.”
Content Warning | Post-op wooziness, Henry being pliant and helpless, Fluff
---
This was about as routine a heart surgery as they came. The battery in Henry's ICD had run low, and so for the sixth time in his life he'd gone under to have it replaced. Both of them were familiar with the process, and they'd had more than a month to prepare. But it didn't stop Wesley from nearly melting with relief when he first laid eyes on him again. Exhausted and pale and drugged, but still aware and still in one piece.
Wes filled out the paperwork. Collected the post-op meds, thanked the nurses one last time. Then he took the handles of Henry's wheelchair, and started them toward home.
Wes had seen him like this a few times before, but it was never going to stop making his heart ache. Henry's eyes were glassy and vacant, watching the floor tiles go by without seeming to follow them. He was still holding his hospital pillow close to his chest, looking every bit like he'd crumble apart without it.
Henry winced as they went over the threshold, knuckles going white on the pillow. Wes was even more careful about the next little bump, and then they were out to the lane where the valet was waiting with the Audi. The sound of traffic going by, the murmur of other waiting patients, the smell of heat and asphalt hit like a wave.
Henry seemed to stir a little, recognizing his car. And then he started looking around, brows furrowed until he found what he was looking for. Wesley.
"Hey," Wes said gently. He leaned down and locked the wheels on either side, making eye contact with one of the nurses and nodding for them to come over. He squatted down next to Henry, giving his arm a squeeze. "We're gonna help you into your seat. Then we're headed home to rest, okay?"
Henry's eyes were on him, blinking too slowly as he tried to focus. But eventually he inclined his head in what was probably a nod, and turned his eyes back to the car as if figuring out how to try to get in there.
Wes almost didn't catch it when Henry shifted his weight forward in an attempt to stand, only to nearly collapse into the car door. "Hey- hey—not yet." He caught him, and the other nurse jogged over to close the distance. They each took Henry under his arm, steadying him. "Let us do the work. Just put your foot here....and the other....there you go. Now on three. One, two..."
They hefted him the rest of the way out of the chair, and helped him transfer to the car. Wes caught his head just before it hit the roof, and let out a breath of relief as Henry sunk down into the seat. It took a few more moments of helping him adjust his legs and get buckled. Wes made sure he was able to keep the pillow between his seat belt and the incision site, and Henry went back to hugging it just as closely as before.
Wes thanked the nurse, then closed the passenger door. Once they were both in the silence and familiarity of the Audi, Henry's eyelids drooped. He looked exhausted, and his breathing was coming slow and a little labored. Wes buckled in, then reached over to give his leg a squeeze. He got a little sound of acknowledgement. He knew he was there.
The drive home was a quiet one. He took a longer route home, one that would avoid as many stops signs and potholes as possible to avoid jostling Henry any more than necessary. And when they finally pulled up to the steps of their rowhouse, Wes let the car idle for another minute as he coaxed Henry back to awareness.
"I'm gonna come around to get you. And we're going to take the steps really slow, alright? It doesn't matter how long it takes to get us there."
Henry made a mumble that sounded like an acknowledgement. They'd talked about this before his surgery, and somewhere in there he still knew the plan. Handrail on one side, Wes on the other. Slow and steady.
Wes gave a nod, and then came around to open his door. He helped him unbuckle, and murmured, "We're gonna leave the pillow here for now, but I promise I'll give it back when we're inside." He still saw Henry hold it even tighter for a moment, before that little bit of resistance caught up with common sense. He let Wes take it, fingers still clinging loosely as it was pulled away. The longing on Henry's face made his heart ache, but he knew it would be forgotten by the time he got it back.
Getting him to his feet was no small feat. Getting him to the base of the steps wasn't either. Henry wasn't exactly a light man, especially when he was swaying as they went. He kept tripping on his own shoes as though he couldn't remember quite how to place them. But with Wes' help they made it to the hand rail, and from there Henry finally seemed to remember his balance.
There were only ten steps up to the door, and every one of them was taken carefully and clumsily. Wes helped him lean up against the doorway as he got it unlocked, feeling Henry's whole frame trembling with exhaustion against his side.
And then they were home. He tossed the keys onto the counter, and helped Henry up the last step. Henry started hanging back just inside the doorway, looking down at his feet. It took Wes a moment to realize he was trying to toe off his shoes.
The sight tugged at him. Even drugged halfway to hell, routine was still such a powerful thing.
"It's alright, love. Let's get you sitting first. I'll help you out of them once we're in the bedroom."
"...mm?"
"Yeah. Promise it'll make it a lot easier."
He coaxed him along. They went past the couch and to the bedroom, where blankets and pillows and water were already set up and waiting. He eased Henry down onto the bed, and bent over to help him pull off his shoes.
He was gentle getting him undressed. Careful to make sure he didn't try to lift his arms, steadying him when he started to sway. He helped him settle back against the pillows. Henry's skin was clammy to the touch, but he still leaned into him when Wes pressed a kiss to his forehead. "I'm gonna be right back. I just need to go get the rest of our things."
Henry was almost asleep again by the time he returned. He roused him just enough to offer him his pillow. And when he saw it, the look of relief on his face said everything. He curled around it like a long lost friend, tucking his knees up and burying his cheek against it with a sigh. It didn't seem to matter that he was surrounded by other, arguably much better pillows. This was the only one he had eyes for.
Wes sat down beside him and combed fingers back through his hair. And with that, in moments, Henry was asleep.