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justyourtypicalwriter · 3 months

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service dog au hcs because i cant be normal about them?? 👀

Kyle: 👻🫂💔🌟

Stan: 🎶👽💤😶

Kenny: 👻🎶🦾💔

Clyde: 💤🦾🥇😶

Butters: 👽💔💄😶

Cartman: 👻👽😺😶

Craig: 👻🦾🌟😶

Tweek: 👽🫂🍫😶

sorry its a lot 😭 if youd rather not do any feel free not to lmao

Oh my fucking god this took me way longer than it should have😭-

tw for slight talk of suicide

Kyle:

👻 - OOH OKAY. Now, I could get REALLY into this with a multitude of different things but the main one has got to be not having control. It’s why he hates being “sick” and hates the aspect of having a service dog for a while. He can’t control when he’ll have a P.O.T.S flare up, he can’t control when he’ll have a bad high or low, he can’t control his tolerance to taking food by mouth nor can he control if it’ll trigger a flashback of some sorts. Mainly, he can’t control where he is on the dependency scale. Kyle needs someone to be there for extra supervision, as much as Noble has benefited him. But at the same time, Kyle is a very stubborn, independent person. He doesn’t want some constant dependency on someone. He has no control over his physical or mental health so he craves control over other factors in life so he doesn’t feel like such an unstable mess.

🫂 - Picking someone for this one was tricky but I think I’m gonna talk about Kyle and Tweek’s relationship while I have this. I see Tweek and Kyle as staying kind of close after Tweek was in their group. They help each other out, especially after Tweek is placed with the Broflovski’s during their senior year. Kyle shows Tweek some distraction techniques he’s picked up on and Tweek works with Kyle to find innovative ways to help him slowly regain some of his independence.

💔 - Such bad emetophobia. It’s not really bad when he’s not the one vomiting though. The ARFID really fucks him over. There was a short period of time where he went on and off the nasal tube, I wanna say like every now and then from 11-13. He really thought he was getting better…he wasn’t. The summer of freshman year is when he really started going downhill at a rapid pace. Just the thought of eating could send him vomiting. Sometimes it’s only for a few minutes, sometimes it's an hour plus. It hurts, it makes him feel horrible and it happens so often. More often than not he’s shaking, hunched over the toilet bowl either fighting back or in tears. And the poor thing is left exhausted and feeling absolutely disgusting afterwards.

🌟 - This one’s a fun one too. He wants to travel, see the world you know? He’s been so coddled most of his life that he never got the proper chance to but he’s determined to make it happen.

Stan:

🎶 - https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3HoLXMmVuoMXPGbTHk7zvL?si=g9r63piOQz2thQKgmXJ3zg&pi=u-Kr5cAidHSeya (I’m jamming to this rn lmao)

👽 - I’m not sure if this counts as a quirk, I mean I kind of feel like it falls under a personality quirk but has a tendency to react emotionally to some things at times while at other times he could give less of a shit.

💤 - Sleep? WHERE?!? (but for some reason he sleeps perfectly fine when a certain redhead is nearby…*cough* fags *cough*)

😶 - This crusty ass emo wet cat looking bitch LOVES dance. Ballet in particular. He rocks gothic ballet routines but he’ll dance to anything. Just him and his fucking black point shoes. If it weren’t for the crippling depression he’d be unstoppable. And no one suspected that he dances until the kids are like thirteen when Stan was bored out of his mind while the gang was at Starks Pond and started doing a bunch of fun tricks to entertain himself. The rest of the groups standing there, jaws on the floor, minds blown because since when did Stanley fucking Marsh know how to do this.

Kenny:

👻 - Losing a loved one, whether it’s a family or friends. Kenny is immortal, he’s gonna keep coming back, but the others? Any health scare, accident, or attempt of someone worries him a lot. It’s why he always has his bag of shit, he’s so worried about losing someone.

🎶 - https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3lhm5rFXq1TXuMUKDiptuI?si=CY4XjCHAQr-fxXDHwQ4dlw&pi=u-E6jLyFZgTFam

🦾 - Muscular Dystrophy & Chronic Pain (live, laugh, love chronic pain Kenny)

💔 - Okay, okay this one’s more of the concept is angsty when you think of it, but Kenny himself could give less of a shit. Kenny in this au is relatively happy, I mean yeah being chronically ill sucks total ass but he’s chilling with it. The only thing is that Kenny kills himself a lot. He’s ever curious and loves to see what happens. He ends up hanging in Hell with Damien for a while before being sent back and before he knows it he’s wondering “hm, wonder if that’ll happen again-“

Clyde:

💤 - Clyde has a rocky sleep schedule. His health issues aren’t the reason for it though, it’s Fable. As mentioned in a previous post, she’s a little demon shit and has an ungodly amount of energy. Clyde finds this hysterical until it’s time to get up for school and he’s only slept like three hours.

🦾 - Clyde’s disability for the au is still being debated! Suggestions are currently open!

🥇 - I have a general headcanon that Clyde is really good at videography! Which, for all my Tyde girlies, falls into one of my general headcanons for Tolkien which is script writing. They make short films together and his biggest accomplishment is that one of their films won first place in their school's film contest.

😶 - He’ll play outside in the snow for HOURS. Even more now than when he was a kid since he’s got Fable. Clyde will just take her out for hours and they’ll have the time of their lives.

Butters:

👽 - Yet another personality quirk: Butters always has a ridiculous amount of enthusiasm for someone who’s been through so much shit in his life. He’s an optimist, it’s what draws people in.

💔 - Okay I just really love antagonizing his parents so so much. Haven is owner trained, Butters bought her himself when he was thirteen. When she was still a puppy something minor happens and Steven isn’t very happy about it so he fucking SELLS her. And Butters is so heartbroken. He only had this dog for a week and suddenly she’s just ripped away. It’s actually Cartman (for the most part) who helps him get her back.

💄 - I know this one’s really basic but I adore giving Butters his eye scar from ‘Fun With Weapons”. It’s very intimidating but Butters is just a silly, goofy guy.

😶 - Y’know those Instagram and Etsy shops that sell custom service dog gear? Butters is really into sewing and he runs one! Giving gifts has never been easier, he just makes them a new piece of gear.

Cartman:

👻 - As much as I love antagonizing Cartman, I love when he has a soft spot for the main four (+Butters) a lot more. So if anyone’s acting out of character it lowkey has him shook. And with good reason, the gang has trauma from finding Stan post suicide attempt. It baffled Cartman since Stan had been acting more than okay for the past week. The bastard cares for his friends although he’ll never fucking tell them so he’s been paying attention to behavior changes ever since, even if they’re minor.

👽 - I’m actually gonna go dive a little deeper into the heterochromia thing. So if my memory is serving me correctly, the eye comes from Kenny so it’s blue. But every so often it has a purplish hue to it for a short period of time. Oh so conveniently, our favorite little poor boy is freshly back from Hell and his eye color has shifted from blue to a freakishly violet shade.

😺 - Oooooh y’all really want me to yap about Dolly. Firstly, she’s so soft. Like her fur was already soft but being that Cartman takes such good care of her, her fur is probably as good as it can get. He’s so gentle with her and she absolutely adores him. As for the rest of the kids: she’s not overly eager to go up to them but she likes them. Except for Kyle she fucking HATES him.

😶 - Unfortunately Cartman is severely underdeveloped at the moment due to him being the most recent addition to the au so I literally don’t have anything else to say about him.

Craig:

👻 - I feel like all of these fears have been really angsty but Craig’s is just spiders. They creep him the fuck out. Also high school musical-

🦾 - Epilepsy!

🌟 - It’s really a matter of what he wants to do first. He doesn’t act like it but Craig is really ambitious. Working in something with space is always something he’s wished to do. But he’s also into music (a mix of Tweek and Stan’s fault) and wants to learn violin.

😶 - I love headcanoning that Craig has piercings so let’s jazz this up for the au a bit. In his late teen years he was (illegally) denied service at various piercing parlors because of Saturn. So he self teaches himself how to (semi) safely do piercings without being a professional and does them for his friends if they want.

Tweek:

👽 - Second physical quick of the ask but it’s freckles! I love giving Tweek freckles but the ones that are barely visible at any time that’s not summer. That’s when they come out.

🫂 - I already talked about his relationship with Kyle so let’s talk about Tweek and Clyde. I only just started playing around with their dynamic a few weeks ago while writing a bunch of Staig drabbles. It’s always really funny to me because you’ve got paranoid sarcasm meets hyperactive sensitivity.

🍫 - What a little stress baker! He can’t cook for shit but the boy sure can bake. And he like over bakes too. He doubles the recipe almost every time. It used to be easy to get rid of the extras, he’d just take them to the shop so they could be sold. But after the meth bust he’d basically ding-dong-ditch his friends and leave baskets of baked goods on their doorsteps.

😶 - Him, Kenny, Kyle, and Bebe all drove out of Colorado for the weekend when they were seventeen because they all needed a break. They stayed at an inn for the weekend and no one knew where they went. So yeah, they were having the time of their lives while everyone back home was losing their shit.

feel free to ask if you want elaborations!

#south park #service dog au #kyle broflovski #stan marsh #kenny mccormick #eric cartman #clyde donovan #butters stotch #craig tucker #tweek tweak #wip: butterfly verse

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farfromstrange · 1 year

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Hello ,

Can you do Matt x reader who had ed

(No pressure it just that need some support those time )

Tyyy

Hi, lovely! This was a very personal request for me to write because I, too, have struggled with an ED in the past (and it still flares up from time to time when my body changes). I'm so sorry you're going through this and I hope I could give you some comfort with this piece. I've tried my best to encapsulate how it feels to go through a bad episode, but obviously, it's different for everyone. Take care of yourself, darling, and don't be afraid to ask for help!

Smaller Than This | Matt Murdock x Reader

Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: You're going through a rough patch with your eating disorder and Matt notices it's getting bad again.

Warnings: TW: Eating Disorder, angst, self-loathing, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 1.3k

A/n: If this topic triggers you, please read with caution! I will start tagging people for all of my fics now, except for fics with trigger warnings just like this one. The form for my tag list is to be found on my profile!

The person staring back at you in the mirror is a stranger. Empty, that’s how you feel. It’s exhausting to see yourself like this all the time, worthless, imperfect, useless – it’s a pain that can’t be put into words because it runs deeper than just not being satisfied with how you look.

You’ve been fighting the monster in your head for years, and it got easier over time to tune it out, but now that you find yourself naked in front of the mirror in your bedroom, the voices start overlapping and every inch of your body turns into a wasteland.

Food is your worst enemy. What started with just a few calories soon turned into several meals that you would skip. But no matter how much weight you lose, you still find parts of yourself that could be smaller, that should be smaller. You want this endless cycle to end, but you are your own worst critic; you feel like everyone who looks at you is judging you. You can’t be loved when you look like this, you think, and so you try to change everything about yourself to fit in. You pretend to love yourself, but as soon as you’re alone, the downward spiral continues.

It’s rather easy to find excuses for why you’re not eating, and people keep telling you how nice it is that you’ve lost weight, which only makes you want to lose more because it’s working. You feel like it’s working. That you’re slowly killing yourself doesn’t mean anything anymore, you just want to be perfect like everyone else around you. You want to be like the girls he loved before – you want to be his type. You feel like you’re not, so you have to change, and you eat even less now that he’s seen you naked. You want to please him and it feels like you can’t. You just want to be smaller than this so you can move on, but it’s exhausting to pretend that you’re okay, and you struggle to keep your head above water. You’re drowning. The world is about to cave in on you, and you’re not strong enough to carry it all.

Matt isn’t stupid. When he realizes you’re skipping out on dinner with him and avoid his attempts to wrap his arms around your waist, he starts wondering if there’s something he did wrong. Did he take it too far? He’s not sure and he doesn’t quite understand, but when your cheeks start hollowing out and you get a lot more dizzy, unable to accomplish even the easiest tasks, he pays more attention, and it doesn’t take long for him to realize what’s happening.

His ears are sensitive to the changes in your body, your blood pressure dropping and your pulse growing more erratic every day. At first, he doesn’t want to admit it to himself because he cares so much, it hurts, and you sure would have told him if it was getting bad again – because you’ve told him before that there was a time when you were a teenager where you’ve struggled with food and your general self-image, but that you’re better now. A few months into your relationship though, he’s starting to realize that you might have lied to him, or that things have just taken a drastic turn for the worse. He’s not sure what it is, but he’d be damned to let you slip away. He doesn’t want to lose you.

That night, he comes home from work and asks you, “Have you eaten yet today?”

“Yes,” you say.

It’s a lie.

He gently guides you to sit down. “Are you sure?” He’s trying not to push you, but it doesn’t take much to break you in your current state.

“I’m not hungry,” you try again, but fighting with a human lie detector about whether or not you’re telling the truth is futile.

Matt tilts his head, listening to your heartbeat. Your body is screaming for help, but the voices in your head are forcing it to be quiet until you’ve run yourself into the ground.

“How long?” he asks.

The silence hangs heavy over you. Your breath hitches, your nails digging into your palms, and you try not to meet his eyes. You’re tired, and he’s caught you in your most vulnerable moment.

“Sweetheart, please. I can tell you’re not alright. I just want to know… no, I need to know how long you’ve been doing this to yourself.”

You whimper.

“You’re not alone.”

You explode, and the pain eats you alive. He holds you as you cry into his arms, your body so fragile in his arms. He strokes your back, and it takes him all of his strength not to cry with you.

“I don’t understand,” he whispers. “Why?”

That’s not something so easily explained. Why do you starve yourself? Why do you hate yourself? Why do you want to look like the models in the magazines? Why do you feel like you’re not enough for a man as beautiful as him? You want to say it’s because people have told you so as a child, and while that’s true, there is so much more to it that can’t be so easily explained. It’s like something is wrong inside of you and you have no control over it anymore. That something is holding the reins. You’re helpless. And that little demon has evolved. It has grown into the size of something much bigger than you, and it makes you wish you weren’t who you are, that you didn’t have to feel like this, and it makes you wish you were smaller than this so the demon could be smaller too. But you know that this is not how it works, your distorted view of the world just likes to think that it is. It’s a defense mechanism.

You shrug. “I just wish I was someone else,” you say.

Because you don’t feel good enough; because it would be so much easier not to be yourself.

Matt holds you close again, his lips close to your ear when he says, “But you’re perfect just the way you are.”

“Don–” you swallow thickly. “Don’t say that.”

Because you can’t believe it’s true. You want to, but your mind is telling you not to believe him because he’s wired to lie to you.

“It’s true.”

“No.”

“You’re perfect to me.”

But that’s not enough. It should be enough.

He sniffles. “You’re so perfect,” he whispers. “You’re the most beautiful person to me, inside and out.”

“How would you know?” Your voice is higher now because now you don’t understand.

“Because I can feel you, and what I feel is enough to tell me how beautiful you are.”

“That’s not enough, I–” you get choked up by a sob.

He nods slowly. “I know.”That he understands, and he’s starting to understand your situation now too. Your mind is fragile and the views that you have internalized aren’t easy to get rid of.

“You’re sick,” he says softly, “and that’s okay. So many people are. The thing with illness is that there’s a way to deal with it, to make sure you don’t have to suffer anymore. You’re not alone, not anymore. I just want to help you. Will you let me help you?”

He would do whatever you ask of him.

You wipe your cheeks. “I can’t–”

“Please?”

“I don’t know how.”

“You don’t have to know. I’ll help you figure it out.”

It’s a promise he would do anything in his power to keep.

You fall back into his arms, your chest heaving with heavy sobs, and he holds you through it because Matt is the kind of person that would never leave you, not even when things get hard.

And perhaps he is right. Perhaps you are truly perfect to him, and with a proper support system, you can manage to save yourself again. You’re not alone. As long as you have Matt, you will never be alone. Not ever, not again.

And it allows you to finally let your guard down and take the first step toward healing.

#tw: eating disorder #matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock angst #matt murdock x you #matt murdock fic #no y/n #reader insert #daredevil x reader #gender neutral reader #daredevil angst #daredevil fic #lizzi writes #request #matt murdock imagines #hurt/comfort

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roseflowerthorns · 2 months

Text

4lb down in 3 weeks ☺️👌

I'm just at such a good place atm with losing weight, I realised yesterday I haven't been depressed in a long while now! Just the same everyday pretty much, happy ☺️ last year I suffered with extremely bad mental health, so much so I self referred myself to therapy, it was due to my mother, lack of purpose, failing relationship, money problems, binge eating, ptsd, stress was triggering major flares with my sps, which was then affecting my mood even further. I was also binge eating soy (allergic) and dairy (intolerant) daily, which also affected my moods drastically.

But.. All this has changed, I cut my narc mother out, I got an amazing opportunity, I ended the relationship I was in, money wise financially I'm good, healed my relationship with food, and in turn becuase I've had no stress, I've had a lot less flare ups! I cut out soy completely, and now I carry extra strong lacto tablets everywhere haha :)

Being so depressed really affected my weight over the past few years, because I just stopped caring about myself entirely, but things got better, life gets better! This time last year I seriously didn't want to be here, waking up everyday tired, feeling worthless, dragging myself through everyday, the only thing keeping me going really was my toddler. I literally would just go to bed to shut off everyday as soon as I could, going through the motions of life.

Today I'm booking a milkshake making class for my toddler and me, energeric, happy listening to 80s music haha as I be everyday these days haha ☺️🥰

Which is why my weight doesn't phase me right now in a sense of, I know I will lose the weight ive gained, it isn't even a doubt in my head this year, because I'm happy. I don't even blame myself for gaining as much as I did, over the past few years. Depression will seriously kick your ass. I feel nothing but empathy for the past version of me, that woman went through hell and back over the years with everything that's happened 🙂‍↕️

But she's getting herself back now 🙂‍↕️😌☺️

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outsiderempire · 2 months

Text

Trying to pull myself out of a depressive episode by taking a walk in between thunderstorms around my neighborhood. At least the scenery is nice to look at.

This is just me ranting about why I’m depressed. Ignore if you want.

I am so fucking disappointed in myself right now. I have worked tirelessly to lose over 40 lbs in the last year (and I’m still like another 40 lbs away from my goal). This comes after I had lost a bunch of weight before the pandemic (which was the first time in my life I had any sort of confidence and actually liked the way I looked) then I gained it all back plus some during the pandemic. So, to jeopardize my progress as I have done in this past month is super triggering to me.

Between the whole car thing and a federal bill being passed that changed my pay frequency, I’m basically financially screwed right now. I also have an elderly cat with medical problems and I have my own medical problems hindering my ability to stay mobile and exercise but I can’t afford to see a doctor about any of it. I have gone to HUGE lengths to overhaul my ENTIRE diet in an attempt to lose weight, but more importantly, to get my IBS under control, then I just turn around and stuff my face with junk and fast food over the entire last month (after going HALF A YEAR without eating fast food! Thanks, eating disorder!). My other issue that is an on and off thing and I suspect to be piriformis syndrome has flared back up, also making it impossible to exercise which is always been a huge boost to my mental health. So, basically I feel like I’ve set myself back and now I’m struggling so hard to get back on track. I don’t even want to see my dietitian this month because I have zero good news to bring to her.

It just feels like everything is fucking against me right now and I’m like powerless to do anything. I now have to pick up a side hustle to help pay off debt so I can have some relief but that won’t come for a few more months. I live by myself and I’ve been taking care of myself just fucking fine. Then wham! Sick cat requiring thousands of dollars in vet visits, my pay frequency changing from monthly to biweekly (so most months of the year I’m now bringing in $200 LESS a month than before), and the cherry on top, a fucking tree falls on my car, forcing me to buy a new car I can’t afford cause used car prices are insane, and so now I have an extra loan payment AND my car insurance went up. I am not fucking kidding when I say that my budget is down to the fucking PENNY with no fucking wiggle room.

And I’m supposed to be able to adequately feed myself to maintain my healthy diet for weight loss and my gut health somehow and get the motivation up to exercise to keep myself active all while having a house to maintain, a sick cat to care for, and picking up a side hustle? How do I not manage to fall back into a depression through all of this bullshit? I am literally putting in my best effort, doing the most that I can possibly do, and it’s just not fucking enough. Like, what do you even do when you reach that point? Because I have no fucking clue, man. Life is such fucking bullshit.

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just-dreaming-marvel · 2 years

Text

Lessons In Love ~ 4

LESSONS IN LOVE MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,430ish

Summary: Padme and Anakin hatch a plan.

Notes: I ended up making it less angsty because you all don’t need to suffer as I do.

Due to a virtual meeting you had to attend, you found yourself at the school earlier than usual but thankfully Padme had to be there for the meeting as well. You and Padme were currently in your room, your computer playing the meeting that you were supposed to be listening to. Instead, Padme had just asked you to go out for drinks tonight.

“I don’t know, Padme,” you shook your head, weary of your friend’s offer. “What if I don’t feel good or if something happens that triggers a flare-up? I think I’m just going to stay at home.”

“Come on, Y/N, you need a break,” Padme responded. “It would just be out to a chill bar, not a club or anything too hardcore. We both—especially you—need to relax. It’s Friday. You can sleep the rest of the weekend.”

“I’ll think about it, alright? I need to see how today goes.”

Padme nodded. “So, is Obi-Wan bringing you lunch again today?”

You shrugged slightly. “He has for the past two days. I’d be surprised if it’s any different today.”

“Will you start believing that he likes you? Who would make lunches for someone they don’t have feelings for?”

You sighed. “It doesn’t matter if Obi-Wan has feelings for me or not, Padme. He’s here now but if we were to start something and he found out the truth about all my problems, he would leave like everyone else has.”

“Obi-Wan is different.”

“I always think that at the beginning too… but they’re all the same.”

~~~

“So, I was thinking that we could go out to drinks tonight,” Anakin said as he walked up to Obi-Wan in the faculty room.

“What?” Obi-Wan questioned as he placed the lunches for himself and you in the fridge.

“You, me, out at a bar. Boys night. What do you say?”

Obi-Wan thought for a moment, shutting the fridge door and turning around. Anakin’s eyes shone with mischief that Obi-Wan should be more worried about than he actually was. But he knew Anakin well enough to know that the mischief never came out of a place of hatred. It was always a place of love and trying to get Obi-Wan out of his normal routine.

“Sure,” Obi-Wan caved in, knowing that Anakin wasn’t going to let it go if he didn’t.

“Well, that was easier than I thought it would be,” Anakin admitted.

“Yeah, well, you caught me on a good day.”

“Oh yeah?” Anakin smirked, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned on one of the tables in the faculty room. “Let me guess, Y/N has something to do with your good day?”

“Perhaps.”

“You made her lunch again?”

“It’s something I can do to help ease her burden. She has a hard class and is clearly going through something in her personal life.”

“It’s also a way you can show her you care without actually manning up and telling her.”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan sighed. “Can we not do this right now? You can ring me out about my feelings over a drink tonight, alright?”

“I’ll definitely be taking you up on that.”

~~~

Unfortunately, you weren’t able to see Obi-Wan before lunch, which made you sadder than you thought it would. When lunch finally came around, you were tired because of your students. It hadn’t been too bad of a day, but it was still a struggle. Obi-Wan was basically ready and waiting at your door with the containers of food. You smiled at him as he shut the door after the last student headed out for recess.

“You know, you could just leave a note on the container in the fridge for me to find,” you suggested. “You don’t have to spend half of your lunchtime waiting for it to be mine also before you eat.”

“I can do that if you’d really like,” Obi-Wan said as he walked over to the table the two of you usually sat at. “I just don’t like the thought of you eating alone.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest. Why was this man making your feelings grow for him more and more? It was impossible at this point not to just love him. Your heart longed to show him—tell him—how much you cared, but the barriers you had placed around your heart were too thick and tall.

“How has your day been?” Obi-Wan wondered as he began to pull the lids off of the containers.

“It hasn’t been too terrible,” you replied, sitting down.

“But clearly not that great.”

“And how do you know that?”

“The way you hold yourself, like you have the weight of the world on you.”

You were taken back that Obi-Wan could so easily tell that about you. “Aren’t you observant?”

“I hope you like lunch today. Made it, especially for you.”

Obi-Wan smirked as you rolled your eyes at him, with a small scoff falling from your turned-up lips. Something happened in that second as he purposefully tried to make you smile, he could see the tension in your body start to melt away. You may not have noticed but Obi-Wan easily did. He could read you better than you thought, which is why he could tell your hand was bugging you. The way you seemed to carefully grab the fork he had set out for you, not before you clenched and unclenched your hand. It was shaking slightly.

“Are you alright?” He asked, eyes flicking down to your hand for a brief moment.

You glanced down at your shaking hand and held the fork tighter to try and calm it down. “I’m fine,” you replied, quickly smiling at him. The way Obi-Wan’s brows pinched together, you knew he wasn’t believing you. “I’m just tired. Didn’t get enough sleep last night.”

“I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s fine.” You shrugged, taking a bite of the food. You almost moaned due to how delicious it was. It was quickly becoming clear to you that Obi-Wan was an amazing cook. “This is amazing, Obi. You are an incredible cook.”

Obi-Wan simply stared at you in a way that you couldn’t read. For some reason, his brain short-circuited when you called him ‘Obi’. It was a very simple thing, but you hadn’t ever just called him by the first part of his name. You quickly grew concerned by his response.

“Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan,” you called until he pulled himself out of whatever trance he seemed to be in. “Are you alright? Was it something I said?”

He quickly shook his head. “No, of course not,” he replied. His eyes found the clock behind you. “I’ve got to go.” Standing up, he grabbed the container he was eating from and his utensils.

“Oh, yeah, of course.” You deflated, not liking how off this all suddenly felt.

“Talk to you after school?”

You nodded, focusing on the food in front of you. Obi-Wan wished he could stay, he could feel the tension that had settled over the two of you. He sighed as he unwillingly left to go get his students.

The rest of the day wasn’t too terrible, but it also wasn’t the greatest. You quickly told Padme that you would go get a drink with her tonight before leaving the school without talking to Obi-Wan. He caught a glimpse of you leaving through his window and he sighed. He definitely needed a drink tonight.

~~~

You decided to dress yourself up a little bit, trying to help yourself feel good. Padme picked you up and drove the two of you to the bar. You both found a seat at the bar and ordered drinks as you chatted and complained about school.

“Let’s stop talking about work for a second,” you said as you set down an empty glass, having all too easily finished your drink. “Let’s talk about you and Anakin. How is that going?”

Padme began to blush as she got a dreamy look in her eye. “It’s going really well,” she responded.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Like he is so sweet and caring and kind. He’s a fighter, for what he believes in and for me.”

“That’s so good, Padme. I’m so happy for you.”

“You know, you do have someone who would happily do the same for you… make you happy and take care of you.”

You looked away, staying still for a long moment before speaking up. “Yes, I think… I think I’m beginning to see that but I can’t get my heart broken again.”

“You don’t know if you will. Obi-Wan is different.”

You gave her an unbelieving look. “They all start out different, even the best of them.”

“Y/N, they weren’t truly the best if they didn’t stay that way. You deserve someone who will love you and take care of you—in all your struggles. I think Obi-Wan could be that someone.”

You sighed. “I—“

“Well look who it is,” Anakin’s voice interrupted you.

You and Padme turned to see him and Obi-Wan making their way towards you. You gave Padme an unimpressed look, knowing that she had something to do with this, before looking back at Obi-Wan. He was clearly thrown off guard and not very pleased with this. Maybe he really didn’t care as much as Padme swore he did. You were grateful that the bar tender showed up and replaced your drink. You quickly picked it up.

“We didn’t know you two would be here,” Anakin continued.

“Sure you didn’t,” you muttered into your glass before taking a sip.

“Hello, Ani,” Padme smiled sweetly at her boyfriend.

“Hello,” he responded with a matching smile before kissing her lips briefly. He turned to face you after the pulled apart. “Nice to see you as well, Y/N.”

You pressed out a smile as you gave him a nod and lifted your glass. Turning back to Obi-Wan, you have him a nod as well.

“Obi-Wan,” you greeted.

“Hello, there,” Obi-Wan smiled.

Obi-Wan feared that he was giving you the wrong vibe. He had been slightly caught off guard upon seeing you at the bar. You were dressed so radiantly. He had only ever seen you in “work” attire. But there you sat at the bar, shinning like stardust that sparkled across the sky. Obi-Wan was honestly at a loss of words.

You noticed Anakin whispering something Padme before helping her off her bar stool. Obi-Wan and yourself immediately knew that they had a plan in place that they were completing.

“Where are you two going?” You asked.

“Oh, we’ll be back,” Anakin smirked.

Padme gave you an apologetic smile as Anakin pulled her away to the another side of the room. You shook your head as you took another sip. Obi-Wan glared at Anakin before taking Padme’s spot at the bar.

“Let me guess,” you began, “Anakin convinced you to come out for drinks tonight?”

Obi-Wan nodded. “Yes. And is it safe to assume that Padme did the same with you?”

“Oh yeah. This was clearly planned.”

“Knowing those two, oh yes.” Obi-Wan waved down the bar tender, ordered himself a drink, and then a reorder of yours. He turned his focus back to you as the bar tender out busy. “How was the rest of your day after lunch?”

“It was okay. Not too terrible.”

“That’s good.”

“How was yours?”

“Same. Not too terrible.”

“That’s good.”

You nodded as an awkward silence fell between the two of you. You were grateful when the bar tender pushed the drinks in front of you because yours had just ran out and you were going to need another if it was going to be this awkward.

“I feel the need to tell you how beautiful you look tonight,” Obi-Wan so easily told you. You almost choked on your drink as your head snapped to look at him with such surprise. “Like stardust, shinning around the room.”

“You don’t mean that,” you said quietly, looking away.

Obi-Wan watched as you almost shrunk into yourself. It made him wonder when the last time someone gave you a compliment for how you looked. In his eyes, you were always so beautiful and now he knew that he needed to vocalize it more.

“Why yes I do,” he said with such conviction.

He reached over and set a gentle hand upon your arm. Your eyes flicked from his hand to his eyes. The blue of his eyes were trying so hard to make sure that you could see the truth behind his words.

“Thank you,” you whispered sheepishly.

Obi-Wan gave you a soft smile as his thumb rubbed against your arm. “Of course, stardust.”

“Stardust? Is that supposed to be my nickname?”

“I can change it if you’d like. Or just not—not give you one.”

“No, it’s okay. I think that it can grow on me.”

~~~

It quickly began clear to the both of you that Anakin and Padme had left you. Though to two of you quickly didn’t care. It was fun, just enjoying your time drinking and talking with Obi-Wan. When the time came to go, Obi-Wan refused to let you call for a ride home and insisted on taking you home himself. He really didn’t need to convince you, you just enjoyed watching him be so insistent. Obi-Wan guided you to his car, opening the door for you and helping you in before getting into the drivers seat. You told him the address to your apartment, which he repeated in his head over and over again to try and memorize it.

After pulling up to your apartment, Obi-Wan raced around to open your door and walk you into your building.

“Thank you, Obi, for the ride,” you said as you arrived at your door.

“Of course,” Obi-Wan replied. “Anytime.”

The two of you stopped in front of your door. “I had fun tonight.”

“As did I.” The two of you stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to do next. Obi-Wan cleared his throat. “Well, I better be going.” He went to turn away.

“Wait.”

You placed your hand on his arm to stop him. An overwhelming amount of courage—most likely from the alcohol—came over you and you quickly placed your lips on top of Obi-Wan’s.

The kiss took Obi-Wan by surprise but he was quick to respond. His hands found your waist as yours stays on his arms. Sadly, nothing much happened in the kiss as you ended it almost as soon as you had started it.

“Goodnight, Obi,” you said, disappearing into your apartment.

“Goodnight, my stardust.”

next chapter >

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chronic-gastro-illness-culture · 8 months

Note

Ok this is legit the first place i see that is dedicated ro people with conditions like mine ? Makes me feel less alone .

now if venting is ok , i feel i am just getting worse again , my diagnosis has been so weird, rn what sounds to fit is ibs and chronic gastritis , i have been sick ever since i was around 5 , i have periods of time on which im ok then periods of time in which my heakth goes to shit , people shun me for having to just lay down and sleep most od the time on my worse days because the stomach pain is so terrible and unbearable.

people love to make my situation about themselves and yet i am not allpwed to tlak about what originated all my issues , i keep getting promises of how "this time around you'll get cured !!" But even my main doctor has said i will never be fully cured , and when i acknowledge that my family scolds me for being "a negativist" , its tiring , and i am just affected by this all over again bc i can tell i am already showing symptoms again :/ , srry if this is a lot , i have been holding most of this and bottling up for 19 years

its not a lot its the reality of living w a chronic illness

thats rlly rough to not have much of a support system n can definitely make things worse . stress is a major trigger for a lot of digestive disorders n getting stressed abt getting a flare up can compound the issue

unfortunately a lot ppl dont understand the chronic part of chronic illness . its not like a digestive disorder is a stomach bug or food poisoning or smth else that causes a temporary bout of digestive distress . its long lasting as in life long . its not fair for u to be judged as an abled bodied person when u have a chronic illness or chronic illnesses n it sux u gotta deal w that esp from family

i hope one day u will be able to surround ur self w a proper support system of ppl who give u understanding n compassion n dont pass judgment

this blog is always here for u if u need to vent

#anonymous #irritable bowel syndrome #gastritis #chronic gastritis #digestive disorders #chronic illness #stomach problems

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ollieofthebeholder · 9 months

Text

to find promise of peace (and the solace of rest): a TMA fanfic

<< Beginning < Prev || AO3 || My website

Chapter 79: August 2011

It’s been a cold, wet day all day, especially for August, but Daisy doesn’t mind. The clouds add to the darkness, and it’s convenient for her purposes. It also means there aren’t a lot of people about tonight, so she’s less likely to be observed. She doesn’t need any witnesses for what she’s planning to do.

Not that there’s anything wrong with it, she tells herself. It’s exactly what she always does, what she’s been trained to do. She caught wind of a monster. She tracked it, trailed it, sniffed out its current lair, and now she’s lying in wait for it. She’ll spring her trap, take it somewhere safe, and dispose of it. No muss, no fuss, no argument. Certainly no one to complain, no one to miss him—it. It’s what she always does. It’s hunting. Not even trophy hunting, not the kind rightly reviled and despised. This isn’t for sport. Granted, it’s not for food either, but it is vermin control.

Nice and simple. Nothing to be concerned about. Nothing to be nervous about. No reason to worry.

But people are soft. They don’t understand. They want results, they want safety, they want the vermin gone, but they don’t want to acknowledge what it takes to get to that point. So they make noises about brutality and due process and accountability, and they don’t admit that monsters don’t play by the rules, and if you play by the rules trying to catch them, they won’t be the ones getting caught.

So she has to be careful. She can’t be seen. Can’t give anyone the chance to complain. The chances of her getting in trouble with her superiors is pretty slim, they don’t question methods as long as she gets results, but if people make a fuss there might be…complications. For others if not for her. And her superiors don’t like messy.

Besides, this isn’t…technically sanctioned.

She stills suddenly, nostrils flaring. It’s not necessarily that she smells something, she wouldn’t describe it as smelling, but she senses something the way a hunter would, or a wolf on the prowl. A shift in the air, a movement in the metaphorical undergrowth, a looming sense of danger.

Her prey approaches.

Carefully, she shifts her stance from the energy-saving stance she’s been in, the one that enables her to stand, motionless, for as long as she needs to, waiting for the things she hunts, into one that’s poised on a hair trigger, ready to launch at a moment’s notice. She can’t get this one wrong. Something, some instinct, tells her she’s only going to get one shot at this. She has to make it count.

The door of the bar opens, and a figure steps out.

Patrons exiting this place have left in a number of ways—some hurriedly, phones jammed to their ear as they assured someone they hadn’t forgotten and are on their way; some jovially, laughing with friends or shouting cheerful farewells back into its interior; some angrily, stumbling and cursing or being aided by a shove or a boot from another patron or the bouncer. This figure, however, is different. It steps out, not with purpose, not with joviality, not with hesitance, not with defiance. It simply moves as though of course it should be in this space, where else would it be? It does not move as though it is trying to draw attention to itself, or avoid attention being drawn, in any way.

Yet Daisy recognizes the air of menace hanging about it. She senses the danger, the coiled threat of violence. She knows that it is not moving the way it is because it fears anything around it, or wants to make itself known as a threat. It knows it is a threat, and sees no reason to advertise that. It simply exists, and will hurt anything it chooses, for any reason. Not like her. This is no hunter.

Daisy, however, is.

She lunges forward. The timing is exactly right; the door to the bar is closed, the traffic light has just changed and drivers are honking at people in front of them who didn’t immediately floor the gas pedal, and the streetwalker working this stretch of sidewalk is chatting up a potential customer who might otherwise have walked past the alley and seen her. She brings the lead pipe in her right hand up, adds her left hand, and swings it with all her might to land on the figure’s head.

It doesn’t go down.

Instead, it stumbles, then looks up quickly, a familiar red light seeming to shine in his eyes—its eyes. She tells herself this isn’t him anymore, it’s just a monster, it’s—

It’s starting to get up. Daisy curses under her breath and brings the pipe down again—and again—and again, working against the clock, one eye on the traffic and the other on the door, she’s got to get this done before—

Oh, thank fuck, he—it—finally goes down. Daisy tosses the pipe aside and manages to catch him before he hits the ground, then drags him back down the alley to her waiting car. He’s heavy, but not any heavier than the ones she normally does this to, and she’s able to get him in the boot without too much trouble. She backs out of the alley and heads down the road.

It’s only as she hits the edge of the city that she realizes she’s back to thinking of what’s in the boot as him.

She rolls down the window to get some air, cold and damp though it is, even though it’s stopped raining, fucking finally. The wind ruffles her hair, freshly clipped and barely long enough to flutter in the breeze. The road hums under the tires and matches the thrum in her veins, singing a song of danger and chase and the hunt. For most people, this would be a wonderful moment except for the unconscious body in the boot. The mostly unconscious body, she amends as she hears a thump from the back as she goes around a corner. Either he’s, it’s waking up or its feet are just clattering around back there.

Either way, it adds to the experience. Anticipation curls and tightens in her gut, setting her heart thudding with excitement and pleasure. Usually she hates this part, stalls it as long as possible, because at this point it’s usually all but over—her prey captured and incapacitated, her challenge lessened, nothing left to do but end it with a bullet or a knife. She prefers the knife, it’s cleaner and quieter and more intimate. But this…this is different. Every instinct screams at her that the thing she has been hunting is still very much a danger, that the second she opens the back of the car it’s going to spring at her and she’ll still have to outwit it.

She hopes it runs.

She doesn’t think it will.

She drives and drives, the night getting older and the waning gibbous moon stalking her through the underbrush of the clouds, occasionally peering its face down on her battered, nondescript car as it wends its way towards the countryside. At last she turns off at what’s not so much a thruway as a gap in the trees and rattles her way along the dirt road, bumping and jostling, although not as much as she could; the car’s got damned good springs. The thumping in the back has long since stopped, but she doesn’t think it’s because the thing back there is asleep or unconscious or dead. She wouldn’t get that…lucky? No, lucky isn’t the right word; she doesn’t want it to be dead. Not yet. She’s still hoping to stretch the hunt out a little longer. The trouble is that the thing in the back is a kind of predator, too.

It’s not a predator, whispers a voice in the back of her mind, so soft as to almost be inaudible over the sound of the blood in her veins. It’s just a killer.

Daisy grunts. No problem, then. No finesse. She doesn’t have to track something that knows all the same tricks she does.

No, the voice agrees. You just have to kill something that doesn’t do anything else.

Get out of my head, she growls in the confines of her mind.

Her brain, quite inconsiderately, refuses to get out of her head, but it does at least shut up and let her get on with driving.

Finally, she pulls off the road just outside of a small clearing. There are a few people on the force who handle this sort of thing, and each of them have their favorite places; some of them overlap, and she knows where most of them are, but this one is just hers. She’s careful to keep it hidden, and she doesn’t think anyone knows what goes on here except her. Anyone living, anyway.

It’s got three advantages. The first is the cliff just on the other side of the last couple of trees, which is convenient when they try to run, because they never know it’s there and they always try to stop themselves and then she has them. The second is the soil itself; it’s light and sandy, drains well, and is easy to dig, but also packs nicely. The third is the trees themselves. Their roots break up the soil, and…well, Daisy has never forgotten the experiment her professor did in one of the classes she took to get her degree so she could be a cop (passion is all well and good, you can say the right things in any interview and pass all the physical tests, but when you’re a girl, even one that’s six foot even and twelve stone seven, you need something more than that to get past the fucking gatekeepers), the one where he laid a raw steak at the base of a tree and came back the next day to find it had been absorbed by the tree’s roots. Trees need nutrients, too, and there are good nutrients in a body.

These are very well-nourished trees.

Daisy shuts the car off and lets it settle until she can’t hear anything but the susurration of the wind in the beeches (she likes that word, more than murmur or rustle, it’s got a whole different feel that she secretly loves—there was a time she loved words more than the hunt, but it’s so long ago she can barely remember it), and then she gets out of the car and goes around to the back.

It’s still silent. She is aware that’s not a good thing.

For a moment, she stands, running through her options. The gun would probably be the smartest option—quick, clean, no chance for it to get away—but there’s a part of her that wants it to have that chance, that wants to chase it. Besides, this one…this one is more dangerous than most, and she’s afraid—no, not afraid, concerned, fear is for prey, not predator—that if she doesn’t kill it in one go, it will try to wrest the weapon away and turn it on her. A knife wound, or even a bludgeoning wound, she can probably explain away at the A&E. A bullet wound will result in an awkward conversation.

Something heavy and solid? She left the pipe back in the alley, but her tire iron is in the backseat (she’s not stupid, she doesn’t keep anything in the trunk that could be used as a weapon against her), so she can use that if she wants to beat it to death. After how long it took her to get it subdued, though, she doesn’t think that’s likely to work. And it’s awake—she can sense it, with a hunter’s instinct, even if it’s lying still and playing dead—which isn’t normal. Real life isn’t like in books and films; head injuries are nothing to mess around with, and if it’s not brain dead after the clubbing she gave it, let alone still unconscious, that’s definitely something to be concerned about.

So it has to be the knife. She has a few, including a really nice set of throwing knives she definitely didn’t take off of one of the bodies buried here, but usually she uses her trusty hunting knife. This time, however, she hesitates, then ducks back into the car and unlocks the hidden compartment in the center console. Inside is a genuine antique, a knife her grandfather brought back from the war. He said he took it off a dead soldier, but he was always real closed-mouth about the details, no matter how often young Daisy asked. It’s the one thing she claimed as her inheritance—there wasn’t much left after the fire anyway, but the knife was all she took in the end. She’s always been equal parts fascinated and repulsed by it, especially by the fact that, no matter how well she cleans it, it always seems to carry the faint coppery scent of old, old blood.

The voice in her head buzzes with a warning, but she ignores it and pulls the knife out. It feels cold and heavy in her hand. Gripping it tightly, ready to strike, she moves around to the back of the car, pops the lock, and throws the lid open.

She jumps back immediately as the thing in the boot launches itself at her. It hits the ground, rolls, and gets to its feet, standing in the same casual, insouciant, of course I belong here attitude as it came out of the bar with.

“Well, well, well,” it leers. “What do we have here?”

The voice is nothing like the one Daisy remembers…which isn’t that much of a surprise, actually. Not that the thing that’s taken over the body in front of her has altered it in any way, but the last time she saw the body in front of her, it wasn’t entirely done with puberty yet, either.

“Benchley,” she says coldly.

There’s no recognition in the amber eyes looking back at her. She’s not terribly surprised at that; puberty had its way with her as well, so even her closest friend she hadn’t spoken to since school wouldn’t have known her, and she doesn’t really expect this thing to know her either. But, and this is the part she hasn’t been prepared for, there’s not the vacant expression she remembers staring down at her from the stairs, either. There’s a person in there, just not a very nice one. Calvin Benchley hasn’t been taken over by a monster. He’s still human.

For just a minute, her resolve falters. Then Calvin’s eyes lock on the knife in her hand, with a gleam in them she really, really doesn’t like, and she knows two things.

One, Calvin Benchley cannot get his hand on this knife.

Two, Calvin Benchley cannot leave this clearing alive.

He lunges for her, hands outstretched like he wants to wrap them around her throat or shove her to the ground. She dodges to one side and slashes out at him. She misses, but only just; it catches the edge of his jacket and tears it. He hisses as if it’s burned him and pounces again. This time he’s aiming for the knife.

Daisy twists, stabs out, and this time she catches him in the shoulder. Blood wells on the tip of the knife, but he doesn’t cry out. The smell of the blood seems to excite him. He turns to her with a grin, and that expression is familiar. It’s the grin that still haunts her nightmares, the one she saw from the top of the stairs. The grin that promises that he not only wants to kill her, he wants it to hurt.

Fuck that. Daisy is not going to be the one that dies out here. And she won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her in pain.

“Come and get me, then,” she taunts, and backs away a few steps.

Calvin’s grin gets wider, crueler, darker. He twitches his ears in a way that almost hurts in its familiarity—she remembers him at nine years old, giving her that goofy, gap-toothed grin and wiggling his ears at her to make her laugh—does she even remember how to laugh like that anymore? Not important—but it seems to be because he’s…listening for something. Like he can hear something she can’t.

Except he can’t. Daisy’s hearing is keen to begin with, and at times like this—when she’s doing this dance with her prey—every sense is at its sharpest. She knows exactly what he’s hearing: the wind whistling along the edge of the cliff and the water surging against the rocks far below. He thinks he’s going to throw her over when she’s not expecting it, or chase her over it. He thinks she doesn’t know it’s there. He thinks he has the advantage.

She can use that.

Maybe.

He springs towards her again. She drops to the ground and somersaults away, then pops to her feet between a pair of trees. He doesn’t hesitate, merely bulls low and tries to rush her. She knows she won’t be able to pull that trick again, so instead she leaps into the air and stabs downward with the knife. Either he’s lower than she thinks or she jumps higher than she expects, because she misses, again, barely grazing the back of his head, which is…no longer bleeding.

That’s going to be a fucking problem.

You think? The voice in her head whispers.

“Shut the fuck up,” Daisy mutters out loud. Calvin has managed to stumble to a halt before he slams headfirst into the tree, and he’s drawing himself up to his full height. He’s somehow still got a few inches on her, in both directions, and for just a second she wonders if she’s outclassed.

Then she shakes off the moment and tosses the knife into the air as Calvin rushes towards her. It rotates twice, then heads point-down towards Calvin. He slams into her, nearly taking the wind out of her entirely, but she manages to catch the knife by the hilt and drive it into Calvin’s back.

Contrary to what some people might think, she doesn’t actually enjoy killing. She doesn’t hate it, but she doesn’t get any kind of thrill out of it either. It’s just a chore, like brushing her teeth or doing her laundry or making her bed—the natural conclusion, some might say consequence, of an activity she does enjoy—eating, working out, sleeping. Hunts end in a kill. She’s not a fucking photographer. It’s just what happens.

But this—driving a trench knife through Calvin Benchley’s back, in the exact same spot where she bears the scar he gave her twenty years ago—this she enjoys.

He gurgles, and then goes still. His weight bears heavily against her legs and drives her to the ground, but she knows with a hunter’s instinct that he’s not getting up again. Ever. Calvin Benchley, or whatever he’s become, is dead.

For a few moments, Daisy remains on the ground with Calvin’s weight on her legs. Then she takes a deep breath, gets up, and extracts the knife from his back with a wet sucking noise. Methodically, she cleans the blade, getting every single drop of visible blood off, then slides it back into the sheath and locks it in her center console again.

Ignoring the voice in her head, which is murmuring that she should have left the blade where she found it—seriously, what is with her brain today—she extracts the shovel from under the backseat. Choosing the biggest, most aggressive looking tree, she starts digging, slowly and methodically, angling her shovel so it goes between the roots to give her better access. The rain’s made the soil a little heavier than usual, but nothing she can’t handle. Once she’s dug deep enough, shoved the body into it, and tamped the earth back into place, she goes back for the knife and makes a small, but deep, nick in the trunk, so she’ll remember which tree ate him.

She backs away from the tree, gets into the car, locks the knife away again, and reverses slowly out of the clearing, all without taking her eyes off the tree. Only when she gets to a place where she can no longer see it does she do a three-point turn, slam the car into gear, and peel out of there as fast as she can.

She’s never turning her back on that tree again. Never. Superstition or not, she doesn’t want to begin to imagine what it might do to her if she does.

Not with what it clutches beneath it.

#ollie writes fanfic #tma fanfic #to find promise of peace (and the solace of rest)#daisy tonner #police brutality #violence #murder #death #blood #burial #it's a pre-canon daisy-centric chapter what do you expect really

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nagiwritesthedevildom · 2 years

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How the Brothers help take care of a Chronically Ill MC

I figured my very first post should be something near and dear to me, and since I'm currently dealing with a particularly annoying flare-up from weather changes I feel this is a good starting point.

This is based on my own chronic illnesses(Fibromyalgia and )Chronic Fatigue mainly) and as such, may not be the same for you!

CW for: Chapter 16 spoilers, vomit(Mammon and Beel's parts), mentions of food, breakdowns, medication (specifically pills), burnout(specifically medical)

I also HC Asmo as using He/They pronouns, so their section uses both!

Lucifer

*This man is perfectly aware from the start of your chronic illness(es).

*But the name of a disease and actually seeing someone living with it are two very different things.

*if you need mobility aids, his first thought is how to implement ramps around the HOL and RAD within the next 24 hours.

*If you have an invisible illness ie: Fibromyalgia,Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, Crohn’s, RA, ME/CFS ect; I really wouldn’t expect his behavior to change much.

*Honestly, even if you have a visible Illness or disability I don’t think his attitude would change.

*You were chosen for the exchange program, and as such, you are expected to complete your tasks by any means needed.

*At least, that’s how he thinks up until you have your first major flare.

*I’m talking about the kind of flare-ups that leave you bedridden and barely able to talk level of flare-up.

*This triggers Lucifer’s Big Brother Instincts.

*Especially if it happens after you’ve already been in the Devildom for a while.

*Why did you wait until you were in pain to say something?

*Imagine having to explain how flare-ups work to him.

*Explaining to him how the pain scale and Spoon Theory work probably rocked this old man’s world.

*As soon as he finishes checking on you, he’s going to put more research into your illness(es).

*As the Avatar of Pride, Lucifer obviously prides himself (haha) on knowing everything he possibly can about his family, and you’re no exception.

*He starts paying attention to possible triggers and makes a list of them all.

*He also pays attention to things that help control the pain.

*Does heat or cold ease the pain? What stretches do you like to do? What areas do you tend to have the most pain?

*If you take medication, Lucifer is on top of it. He always makes sure you have enough, and will call in any refills you need at the end of the month.

*If you take them multiple times a day, he has alarms set to remind him to text( or on less-busy days call) you to remind you to take them.

*He’ll never hound you though. Lucifer trusts that between himself and his brothers, you’ll get enough reminders that you’ll have taken them.

*Lucifer probably also sets reminders to remind you to switch activities if you use Pacing strategies.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mammon

*Oh my boy

*My sweet sweet summer child

*I think Mammon absolutely has the potential to be the best caretaker out of his brothers.

*He picks up on the fact that you have pain pretty quickly seeing as he spends so much time with you.

*The first time he sees you limp into the dining room, he immediately jumps to the conclusion that you had some “fun” the night before and is torn between congratulating you and freaking out over the fact that you got freaky.

*Wait, what do you mean you slept weird and now the nerve in your hip is spasming????

*Are humans seriously that fragile???

*WAIT WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU HAVE CHRONIC PAIN!?

*He absolutely freaks out and overreacts.

*Please take a few minutes to explain to him the major points of your illness(es) to him.

*If you thought Lucifer paid close attention to your flare triggers, he has nothing on Mammon.

*He’s your first, and that means he needs to be on top of anything that could potentially be harmful to you

*Or so he says

*The truth is, Mammon just hates seeing you in pain.

*If stretching or light exercise is helpful to you, he’ll do your stretches with you.

*If you respond well to heat, he goes out and buys an abundance of heating pads. You swear there’s one in every room now.

*Cold helps? Half the freezer is now full of those gel icepacks so you can always have as many as you need.

*His bathroom smells like lidocaine patches now because he bought one box of every type he could find.

*Massages? He’ll never admit it under the threat of death, but he begged Asmo to teach him how to best rub tension and soreness away.

*If you take medication, he’ll “casually” remind you to take them before you guys leave the HOL everyday.

*If you forget them often(like me), this man will bring your pills to the table with him and makes sure you have a few bites of food before handing them over to you.

*The first major flare-up with Mammon is the moment he realizes just how fragile his human is.

*You had told him earlier you could feel a flare-up starting.

*He put you through some stretches and iced/used heat, but you still weren’t feeling better.

*He watches as one second you’re trying to get comfortable and in the next your face pales before your rushing to the bathroom as your breakfast comes back up.

*He holds your hair back(if it’s long enough) and rubs your back until you're done, before cleaning you up and getting you back into bed.

*When you can’t move for almost an hour afterward, just completely wiped out from the pain, he realizes just how serious your illness(es) can be.

*If this is how bad it can be with medicine and preventative measures, how bad was it before you got diagnosed?

*The thought honestly breaks his heart.

*If you really want to hurt him though, tell him how much you wish you could just be “normal” and not have to deal with all the complications of your illness(es)

*After you’ve recovered, Mammon doubles down on making sure you do everything you need to to keep yourself healthy while also letting you feel as much of a sense of normalcy as possible

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Leviathan

*As much as I love this Otaku I don’t think he’d be the best caretaker.

*What he does excel at is being your cheerleader.

*You’ve gone two weeks without a flare? That’s awesome!

*You took your meds on time? Well totally incidentally, he just got a dupe of a super rare drop in Mononoke Land, so how about he sends it to you in celebration!

*You’re having a bad day? That’s ok! Even Henry has moments of weakness, so don’t beat yourself up!

*While he normally likes the feeling of his sin on others, he hates it whenever Envy leaks off of you, because it happens whenever you don’t feel well.

*Are you jealous of Beel’s strength?? He’s OP, even for a demon, MC!

*He spent almost 2 whole days looking up a list of characters from different animes and games that have the same illness(es) as you, and offers to watch/ play them all with you whilst fighting off a tomato-red blush. (It’s almost like a D-D-date!!!)

*He’s not the one to go to if you need to remember to take your meds, or to do exercise with, but he’s great to have a Quiet Day with.

*If you need to stay home from a flare, Levi will spend the day in your room, playing mobile games, or catching up on anime as a quiet reassuring presence.

*He also picks up the terminology pretty fast, which I feel is pretty expected considering he knows LEET speak.

*”Yeah, they don’t have a lot of spoons today.”

*Speaking of Spoon theory, I feel like he’d resonate with the whole concept of it pretty well. He probably picks it up the fastest of the brothers.

*Levi becomes your personal Spoon Counter.

*Tell him how many you have in the morning, and he’ll keep track for you, so you don’t have to worry about over-doing it.

*Another brother that keeps a heat pad or ice pack on hand for you.

*I can see him buying a special comfy chair just for you when you tell him that sitting in things like beanbag chairs can trigger tension.

*If you're someone that likes Floor Time, he’ll make sure you have a super soft blanket and a bunch of comfy pillows to lean on and support yourself with as needed.

*The first time you have a really bad flare he honestly doesn’t know what to do, at least until you start sobbing, unable to handle the added stress of being bed-bound for the near future on top of your responsibilities in the exchange program

*You always listen to him, so from now on whenever medical-burnout hits or you have a particularly horrible flare, Levi becomes your personal soundboard.

*He may even hold your hand if you crave physical comfort

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Satan

*Has the most medically-minded approach

*At least, for a little while.

*He's probably at least heard of your illness(es) before in passing, if not read about them somewhere.

*As much as he'd hate to hear it, like Lucifer he spends an afternoon or two doing as much research as he can

*Be prepared for him to want to try every single " coping strategy" he can find.

*What do you mean you already tried this when you were diagnosed?

*He wasn't there so it doesn't count.

*He'll also put research into things like herbs or potions that could help alleviate any symptoms.

*Why is he cooking with so much turmeric and ginger??

*No particular reason- though apparently they can help with inflammation, did you know that, MC?

*The first flare up you have, he's honestly kind of the worst

*Satan will want you to try out all of these different coping strategies he found online

*He'll push and push until eventually you snap.

*Whether you scream until you turn red, break down into hysteric tears, or turn completely numb, that's the point he realizes he was treating you more as an experiment than a person.

*Satan leaves you alone for the rest of the day.

*He'll go to one of his brothers, and finally just ask what works for you, and how to help without being overbearing while you don't feel well.

*After that, the next flare goes much more smoothly.

*Satan will come in and either offer you a book you had been interested in, or offer to read to you if you're not up to reading.

*He'd absolutely have an album full of cute cats he's found, and will go through it with you because let's be honest

*Cute cats can heal any hurts

*He's another one that will set alert reminders for your medication, and shoot you a text if he's not around.

*I also feel like if you have any "as-needed" meds(inhalers, nausea meds, OTC pain meds, anxiety reducers, migraine pills), he'd probably carry some around for you just in case you run out or forget them.

*Also reminds you to check if you need anything refilled so you don't run out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Asmodeus

*Everyone saw this coming, but Self.Care.Queen(gender neutral)

*Asmo knows just about every technique to help ease tight muscles

*And They are not afraid to use them on you

*He will lay you down on his fluffy bed and rub all of your troubles away(non-sexual)

*Asmo has about 50 different scented massage oils and will let you choose every single time

*Similar to Satan, If you're into it or interested, they’ll look into naturopathic remedies that could help with inflammation and pain

*If you use Epsom salt or CBD oil-based lotions, he'll beg Solomon to get some from the Human Realm for you.

*Asmo absolutely finds you the cutest pill organizers.

*Whatever your style is, they somehow find ones that match it!

*Afterall, If it's part of your daily routine, it should look cute- just like you!

*Plus, it takes away some of the clinicalness of the situation, which is a win-win!

*Don't worry if you have mobility aids- they get the same treatment!

*He found the cutest stickers being advertised on Devilgram the other day, and thought they'd look great against whatever color your aid is!

*So let's get decorating!

*If you're having a flare-up, Asmo will be at your beck and call!

*As long as you don't need anything heavy lifted, Darling.

*They'll draw as many baths or showers as you ask

*They'll massage you every hour if you request it.

*His brothers can worry about the medical aspects, Asmo's priority is getting you comfortable again as quickly as possible!

*He may not be the best at noticing your warning signs, but with enough time he'll start to learn how to pace all-day shopping trips into multiple dates.

*They end up liking this more anyway because it means more time for just the two of you!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Beel

*My son

*My child 2.0

*Beel is absolutely the best at taking care of you!

*Your medication is either scentless, or very clearly smells unappetizing most likely, so Beel is never tempted to eat it.

*This turns him into the go-to for med management.

*If you're forgetful, Beel will hold onto your meds for the day, and drop them into your hands at the appropriate time along with a drink and a snack.

*I feel like Beel would also come up with names for your meds to try and take away some of the clinical aspect

*Pain meds are now known and “Ouch-byes”

*Nausea meds are called “No-pukes”

*Anxiety or mood stabilizers are “Sad-be-gones”

*He’s also the brother that sits with you while you refill your weekly pill boxes.

*It’s how to two of you came up with the names

*He also uses that time to make sure you restock any as-needed medications for the week. (I wish I had a Beel to do that for me…)

*Having a bad day?

*No need to walk, Beel is your personal chariot now.

*Another brother who does any stretching or exercise with you and Mammon every day.

*Imagine doing yoga with Beel and Mammon.

*Stunning.

*If Asmo or Mammon aren't available, he also gives great massages.

*His hands are always perfectly warm, and after a few minutes he always finds the perfect amount of pressure to ease and release your tensed muscles.

*He makes sure you have food handy on bad pain and flare days.

*Or if you're especially nauseous, he'll get you crackers or toast so you can at least try to get your meds down.

*Beel hates seeing you in pain, and is another brother that keeps a list of your triggers handy

*He can definitely go overboard though

*If stress is a trigger(which it often is with chronic pain diseases) he may develop a habit of guarding you a little too closely from other students or his brothers antics

*He'll try to pull you away from assignments the moment he thinks your getting stressed

*Definitely a brother you'll need to have a long conversation with regarding triggers and symptoms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Belphegor

*For all that I shit on Belphie for being a brat baby

*I think he’s another brother that would be pretty good at helping with some of the less-medical aspects of your care

*Obviously, he’d be a HUGE help at falling asleep or staying asleep at night.

*Just dont ask him to remember when you need to take your meds.

*Belphie can absolutely tell when you're getting close to triggering a flare-up and will force you to stop and take a break from whatever you're doing.

*Lucifer told you to do it?

*He’s already texting him and telling him you need a break, don’t worry and go lay down MC.

*While part of him genuinely just wants to keep you from being in pain

*I feel like another huge part of Belphie feels a lot of guilt whenever you have a flare.

*Seeing your pain contorted in pain not only reminds him of the Fall

*But also of what he did to you in the attic

*Everytime you wince and moan, he sees himself standing over your battered form again, just for a second.

*Or he’ll see one of his brothers, falling apart as they turned from beloved angels to demons

*The first major flare is horrible for him

*At first, because he’s been in the attic he doesn't know about all the aspects of your illness(es) and he thinks you’ve been cursed by someone

*He won’t believe his brothers if they tell him this happens to you sometimes

*He’ll only believe it once you tell him yourself, through teary eyes that this isn’t even the worst one you’ve had

*After that he’s the trigger-tracker supreme.

*It’s going to be significantly colder tomorrow, make sure you bring extra pain meds

*You’ve been sitting for three hours, time to stretch please.

*Like, he keeps track of your triggers almost better than you do

*He actually found one or two that you hadn’t been aware of.

*Also feel like he’d be shockingly good to take to Doctor's appointments??

*He’s also painfully blunt, and I think he’d tell your doctor if you were bullshitting about how much pain you’d been lately.

*If you're suffering medical burnout, he’ll make a nest for you both in the planetarium and steals every pillow he can find

*He’ll lay you down however you're most comfortable and just pet your head

*No words, no thoughts

*Just the two of you for as long as you need the quiet comfort of another person.

*If you fall asleep, he’ll make sure to adjust you to make sure you wake up comfortably

*He probably just ends up texting Beel and asking him to come get you into bed.

*He may be acting mature, but he’s still Baby.

#obey me #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me swd

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sullina · 2 years

Note

The Commandments shared a glance with each other. Up close enough to see him while hes awake they could see Meliodas was thin, too thin. With Zeldris and Gelda's prompting he finally moved, lifting a hand and slowly bringing a spoonful to his mouth, sniffing a but as if to check for poison. As if he expected it to be poisoned. He took a bite, placed his spoon back down, and resumed his position as a statue.

"Do... you like it?" Zeldris asked, worried when his brother didn't continue to eat. Meliodas nodded, still eyeing them warily, wondering what his angle was. If they were going to kill him, why bother asking if he liked the food!?

"You should have more than just one bite, Meliodas." Gelda spoke up, considerably more gentle towards Meloodas, afterall he had saved her life. She remembered how he had looked during that mission, the hidden pain and paranoia he had felt and how the sheer sight of a friendly face from the underworld had almost brought him to tears, something he'd tried to hide a d only her experience with his much more prickly brother allowed her to pick up on. Compared to then he looked... well, not better, but considerably less miserable now. She suspected that his sealing of her had less to do with a kindness to his brother and more to do with his own loneliness after 3000 years of isolation, especially so after the villagers' reaction to him.

The pit in the Commandments stomachs got heavier as they remembered what Melidoas had said. 3000 years... what happened to their once fearless leader to bring him to this state? Meliodas slowly ate his food, only answering in one or two sentences and thinking about his wording for each, it didn't take a genius or truth detector to tell he was lying by omission and hiding things. Considering the nature of their questions however, just general questions to try and break the ice with no malicious intent behind them and just trying to gage how he's been after all these years, the omissions statements more than concerned them.

"So how is Elizabeth these days?" Gloxinia asked, much to the other Commandments disgust and his and Drole's own curiosity. The others wanted to hear about Meliodas, not the Goddess bitch! Meliodas' reaction however... that caught their attention.

Meliodas' breath hitched as his hand spammed, knocking the bowl of stew over and spilling the hot broth all over himself, hearts beating fast at his mate unexpectedly being brought up and his face paled considerably. How was Elizabeth!? Didn't they already know!?

"Meliodas!?" Zeldris jumped, grabbing a table cloth to try and help his brother clean of the burning broth, blisters already forming and skin tinted red where he was splashed. Meliodas freaked, all but leaping from his chair with a bang and falling back, landing on his bad arm with a cry of pain in his haste to get away form Zeldris. Silence followed as Meliodas muttered expletives under his breath, trying to calm himself, the Commandments stunned by how quickly shit had hit the fan just at the mention of Elizabeth. Gloxinia's wings drooped, he truly hadn't meant any harm!

(My idea is this isn't Gloxinia asking Meliodas what happened to him this is him just trying to catch up to an old friend and ask about how his wife is doing and therefore not breaking his promise to Galand, he had know idea the topic was this triggering or even related at all)

Meliodas' arm hurt like a bitch and the fall made his other injuries flare up as well and he was reminded of how he could barely walk without help.

When he calmed down, Zeldris approached his brother again with the tablecloth, slowly this time as not to spook him again. "Are you okay, brother?"

"It's... really not that bad", Meliodas mumbled, just loud enough for Zeldris to hear, but the younger demon wiped the broth and food pieces off anyway, noting how stiff Meliodas was as he tried to subtly breathe through the pain.

"I'm sorry, Meliodas", Gloxinia apologized. "I had no idea it was a touchy subject for you. I didn't mean any harm. You don't have to answer."

Meliodas just nodded as he watched Zeldris take care of him, not letting his guard down with him this close. Considering their shared history, he wanted to believe the fairy when he said he meant no harm, but because he was also part of the commandments, he couldn't fully trust him either. Meliodas and Galand himself were the only ones in the room subject to the commandment of truth. The other commandments could lie to him all they wanted while he couldn't even tell a single white lie like saying he was fine when he felt like every single one of his hearts was being ripped apart over and over for the past 3000 years. It made for a real shitty power imbalance.

Zeldris helped Meliodas up again. "We should treat that before we keep eating, is that okay with you?"

#nnt #meliodas #nnt everyone knows au #sullina nnt

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lustastarte · 1 year

Text

♤good enough | jotahan♤

genre: angst (lots of it)/fluff

rohan believes he isn't good enough to catch jotaro's eye, so be begins changing himself

published: 2020

!transgender rohan! trigger warning: dysphoria/depression

written by request

Rohan sighed as he thumbed absent-mindlessly through his closet, looking for something decent to wear. Truth be told, his clothes were all very nice, but he didn't think they were nice enough to impress the man he was after. He knew he needed to pick something quick, before his anxiety got him, because it's much harder to breathe in a binder when you're convinced you can't breathe at all. He scanned his clothes a little longer before deciding on something simple. A turtleneck and ripped jeans wouldn't be enough, but that's all he could think of that wasn't over the top or similar to what he had been wearing for the past two weeks. He had bought new shoes, new jewelry, new clothes, new everything. He changed his makeup. He had begun changing his attitude, body language, and speech patterns. All for him to notice, but he never did. All for nothing.

Slipping out of his apartment, he glided across the road and into a small bakery for breakfast. After grabbing his food, he found a nice table in the back and began working on his latest manga. He was so invested he never noticed the man that walked in. Jotaro ordered his usual, but instead of leaving, he decided to get a table. While looking for the perfect spot, he spotted Rohan, so instead of taking up an extra table, he just slid into the chair in front of him. Surely he wouldn't mind.

Rohan looked up, and upon seeing Jotaro, he slammed his sketchbook shut and shoved his work items into his bag, pretending as if he hadn't been doing anything. "G- Uh, Good morning," he managed to stutter as his face deepened by forty shades.

"Morning," Jotaro returned. "Why did you put away your work?"

"Oh- That's- No reason! I was done..." Rohan had overheard Jotaro talking about his dislike for manga, so he had gotten an entirely different job, yet still worked for his publisher, only now publishing under a new name.

"I don't mind if you work on it, you know. I only sat here because I didn't want to take up another table."

Rohan's heart hit his stomach and pain flared up in his chest. Jotaro didn't want to sit with him.

"Oh... well, I-I think I should probably go."

"Why? You're not even halfway done with your food," Jotaro questioned suspiciously.

"I have... stuff to do. Plus, I wouldn't want to bother you any more, so I'll be off."

"But you-," Jotaro looked up at the younger man.

"Goodbye, Dr. Kujo."

Jotaro furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, watching the short, paper-thin man power walk himself out of the shop and back to his house. What the hell is going on with him today...? Jotaro sipped on his flat white as he gazed out of the window at Rohan's blind-obscured, curtain-veiled windows. Maybe he just had a bad day yesterday... although, somehow, Jotaro couldn't shake the creeping feeling he did something, and wasn't so completely sure that Rohan's sudden secrecy and coldness wasn't his fault. He only started acting weird after the older man sat down with him. The scientist shrugged, finishing his drink and guiding himself to Josuke's house to help him and Okuyasu with homework.

Rohan found himself just inside his doorway, breaking down as if he hadn't just cried himself to sleep. I'm so stupid, why did I ever think he wanted anything to do with me? I'm not even a real man... he probably thinks I'm a disgusting freak. I'll never be good enough for him. He tried to change into more comfortable clothes, but ended up staring unwillingly at the foreign, unwanted mounds of fat on his chest. The teenagers tried to reassure him before, telling him they're just like pecks. But they weren't like a man's pecks. Rohan was skinny, and fairly muscle definition-less for a man, so he wouldn't have pecks without some muscle. His were taunting and heavy, paired with the emptiness he felt between his thighs. With tears streaming down his stubble-covered face, he ran from his room, leaving the large wall mirror glittering, his retreating form glinting with unintentional malice. He was disconnected from himself, from his identity as a whole, distressed at the thought of being stuck in the body he was currently in. He knew it was no one's fault, as everyone gladly used his pronouns and name, he just couldn't see past the things he despised about himself.

The next day, Rohan found himself in the little shop again, wearing a nice outfit and reading a book on the deep sea. He didn't care much for the ocean, but he knew Jotaro did, and that's all that mattered. Jotaro walked in, ordered his flat white, and instead of sitting with Rohan, he sat across the room. The last thing he wanted was to upset him again like the day before. The older man felt the stare of someone else on his neck, specifically Rohan, but he wasn't sure if it was a longing stare or death stare. Jotaro turned to look, only to be greeted with an empty table and half-eaten muffin. That's when he stood, pushing himself away from the table and leaving the shop, scalding flat white still in hand. He jogged across the street, narrowly avoiding cars, and banged on Rohan's door.

"Who is it?"

"It's me. Let me in." Jotaro got no response. "Rohan, it's Jotaro. Let me in," he waited a moment, hoping for a response from the man hiding inside. "Let me in or I come in on my own."

He heard footsteps nearing, metal being fumbled with, and... the sound of both a deadbolt and chain lock being locked. Without a second thought, Jotaro let Star Platinum unlock the locks, and swung the door open to find a sobbing Rohan curled up on the couch in a large hoodie and flannel sleep pants.

"Get o-out."

"Rohan, wh-?"

"Get. Out." Rohan snapped his head up to look at the older man, eyes bloodshot and face blotchy with color.

"I'm not leaving."

"I didn't ask. Get the hell out of my house," the younger commanded, voice raised and eyes threateningly dark.

"No. I'm not leaving until you tell me what the fuck has gotten into you."

Rohan growled. "Why would I tell you what's going on? You don't care anyway!"

Jotaro stayed silent, eyeing the upset artist.

"That's what I thought," the younger's voice was lowered, yet still full of the pain it held earlier. "Leave. Leave right now."

"Rohan-"

"Leave."

"No! I'm not going anywhere! You can't just keep doing this to yourself and expect us not to notice! Do you think I'm fucking stupid? Just because I'm not a social person does not mean I don't watch how people act. I know you've been changing yourself. Why?"

Rohan shook his head, attempting to deny it. "No, you're wrong-!"

"No, I'm not." Jotaro moved closer, closing the door behind him. "When I first met you, you dressed stylishly, designer clothes and everything. You were a great manga artist, and liked to be with your friends, even if they bothered you. Now, you wear simple clothes, work at a fucking restaurant, and don't ever leave the house for anything other than work! What the absolute hell has gotten into you?"

"Nothing! Now would you leave me alone?!"

Jotaro growled, setting his drink down and pointing a finger at Rohan. "Drop the act. I don't give a damn if it'll hurt your pride, tell me what the fuck is wrong with you!"

Tears welled up in Rohan's eyes as he hid his face. "Fine! You wanna know what's wrong? You wanna know what's fucking wrong with me? The fact that I'll never be good enough for you!" He stopped to take in a shaky, two-layered breath. "Are you fucking happy now?!"

"Good enough for me?! When have I ever said you weren't good enough?! I willingly talk to you and call you a friend, that alone should tell you that you're enough for me!"

The younger man slapped the couch cushion. "No! I don't want to be your fucking friend, Jotaro!"

"Then why are you so obsessed with being 'good enough' for me? Why else would you have to set a standard so high for yourself?"

Rohan's voice dropped in volume again. "Because I want to be yours, not be your friend... I'm tired of trying to win you over, only to get no reaction in return," he scoffed gently. "I mean, I don't even know why I'm so hung up over it. If you even like guys, you'd probably want a real one, anyway."

The scientist's jaw dropped open in frustration. "You're fucking stupid, you know that? You've always been a real man to me. I don't give a flying fuck or shit about what you have in your pants, Rohan! It never crossed my mind! You have to wear a binder? Okay, cool! Doesn't make a difference to me!"

"But-"

"But nothing. There's no difference between us except for our physical forms. And you should know I don't care about that anyway. Even if I wasn't asexual, it wouldn't matter. If you're a man, you're a man. You could wear makeup and a dress, without your binder, and still be a man!"

The artist began to cry again, chest filling with the same pain it had many times before. Jotaro sat down on the couch next to him, stiffly putting his arms out. He wasn't a big hugger, or a good one to be completely honest, but he thought Rohan could use one. The younger looked up at him, a little stunned, before leaning into the older man, sinking into his chest and letting his emotions crash over him. Jotaro held onto him tightly, breathing in a deep, steady rhythm that he hoped Rohan would pick up on.

"You'll always be enough for me... for everyone. If you aren't enough for someone, they aren't worth your time," Jotaro comforted him, speaking in nearly a whisper. "Please believe me..."

"Al-Always?"

"Always."

#jotahan #jotaro x rohan #trans rohan #dysphoria is a bitch #jjba #jjba fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #angst #personal experience

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theutiarchives · 2 years

Text

12 MONTHS

Topics: Bladder; Fulguration; Cervix/HPV current status; Gut and stool test results; Adenomyosis/period pains; Tinnitus/Vertigo;

BLADDER: 365 days after fulguration, I had an infection - a karmic joke to celebrate? After fulguration I had (an expected!) infection when the scab came off, and that was it. I did experience a few false alarms this year, shedding and other discomforts, and surely felt the ups and downs during the healing phase. But this was different, I can say this was my “first” infection after fulguration. However, being almost 10 months free of any, and being able to have intercourse without triggering a new infection - because now dmannose is also able to prevent one (e coli was my main post coital bug) - is an *amazing* result for me. This infection wasn’t triggered by sex but rather from a temporary gut dysbiosis (crap food&a brownie)... and next day my bladder was angry. I instantly knew it was infection. Not a false alarm. I panicked, but before reaching for any abx, I decided to see if I responded to dmannose, and very luckily, I did. It was e.coli.. if it were enterococcus(also usual for me), it would have been a lot trickier. My e.coli type clearly changed, as I didn’t respond to dmannose before fulguration and now I do? Still puzzled. By the 3rd day of taking 2g of dmannose in a small cup of water every 2h most symptoms disappeared, but the infection was still there.. I could feel it wanting to come back every few hours, so I jumped to my herbals and took tons of teas and the did several liquid plant extracts, plus high dose Lipossomal vit C, etc. And that resolved the rest. In 7 days I was 98% ok. I couldn’t believe it! No abx!

FULGURATION: Despite my overall improvement this last year, I’m honestly not convinced at all fulguration alone did the trick. It was potentially a helping step, amongst many others I took - and some were far harder than taking any pills or supplements. As many of you know I’ve changed a lot of things in my life, from stress management to diet to exploring daily herbals and other antimicrobials for years now, especially since 2020 although I technically started exploring non-abx options before. In 2021 I started to reduce the number of flares, so it was starting to pay off, but it was a year heavily marked with oral prednisone (corticosteroids) for months (I started them in 2020). My face was painfully deformed by a type of Angioedema that was triggered by abx, and then the prednisone itself made me have even more infections - a loop from hell. Also dealt with chronic Candida. Further diet changes and other things were needed (Yeast post). But as that went away, I continued to support my gut (=immune system) to the best of my abilities, and I avoided abx as much as possible, before and after fulguration. Spent 9 months on total without intercourse, 6 of them after fulguration, so I wouldn’t risk any infection while healing. I ate a *very* clean diet, tons of varied veggies, day in and day out, rain or shine, alongside daily teas and other herbals/supplements; the diet changed over time, I adapted it as my gut managed to digest things that it couldn’t at first (fiber) and for the first few months. Abx truly recked my gut, especially the cephalosporins for the past few years, but an overall 11year history of *very* frequent abx can’t be ignored. I also took my fair share of abx as a child. And I was born cesarean (less immunity) and was breastfed for little time. There are no miracles. It will take time to go back to my former “gut self” (or rather, a better gut self…) although I’m much better now. I didn’t take any abx this year so far: This alone, feels surreal. Responding to dmannose also feels surreal. Avoiding acute flares after intercourse, is ..beyond surreal, can’t even put in words. Like it’s not happening to me - but it is! It’s the first time in my truly “adult” life (I’m 36!) that I *could* have intercourse with relative peace. But…

HPV: One of the biggest challenges I’m still facing is my cervix (previous posts). I have downgraded my lesions from CIN1 to ASCUS, and from 3high risk strains I’m now down to 1. However my cervical pains haven’t decreased much and intercourse is very limited and adapted to what I can cope - which is little to be honest. Had I supported my immune system from the get go with the antivirals that allowed me to *now* downgrade the severity of the infection, and I probably wouldn’t be in this predicament. Especially because persistent high risk HPV with cervical pains is not a good combo at all to have, and my grandmother died precisely of this. So, I have C history here in direct family. But I was a mess with my bladder and side effects from antibiotics so I didn’t focus on HPV as I should back in 2020. Worrisome also because I’m almost 37 and haven’t become a mother (but that’s another layer of impact all this has).

GUT: As for my gut I got my comprehensive stool test results back and the diversity range is good although it has room to improve. And no large colon dysbiosis at all. Excellent butyrate levels, etc. (See Gut posts). Still have Kleb overgrowth and little Lactobacillus, so there’s work to be done. Note that just back in December I had my gut in shambles, blood in feces, white mucus, yellow runny stools and overall foul smell with multiple runs to the bathroom daily - and I didn’t take a single Lactobacillus or Bifidum probiotic to get this result now. I can’t, they give me SIBO symptoms and bladder infections (little did I knew…). So, no "gut supplements" at all actually, although I’ve tried. I had to go with food and food only to try to start to reverse years of abx damage - although now I know it’s not enough: So where are my IBS symptoms stemming from? Another test was done: SIBO breath test. It came back with very high Hydrogen dominant SIBO. I was sort of shocked to be honest - because apart from the very negative reaction to probiotics, I don’t have (anymore, and for many many months now) any bloating, digestive discomfort, or major gas. Or any, gas, to be honest. But there it is: it’s SIBO. So my “gut issue” stems from the small intestine. Many with my levels have a lot of symptoms- but I don’t, hence it took me ages to do this test. Actually took me ages to find someone who would prescribe both tests…

But it was a very valuable piece of information. The only thing that has been worrisome is my weight loss. I’m prone to IBS-D, or SIBO-D / Hydrogen dominant and this is many times (although there are exceptions) associated with progressive weight loss no matter how many calories one eats, and now I’m very underweight. Malabsorption is an issue as a lot of nutrients aren’t being absorbed and vitamin/mineral deficiencies are to be expected with time. Some I already have, common with SIBO sufferers: iron deficiency. My B12 is plummeting, folate levels dropped.

There is a strong link between any gut dysbiosis and bladder - I’m very much in this category I believe. So if I want to remain infection free I have to tackle this. I’ve had one period in the past that I remained infection free for quite a while, and then it all returned and with a vengeance. So I’m not resting this time thinking this is a solved issue. Regardless, SIBO is an entire new journey in itself, a quite tricky issue to solve, but it has to be done or my health will continue to deteriorate. And I already feel underweight and fragile enough as it is, with little energy to spend each day.

And I will lastly say this. I know antibiotics save lives, and are very much needed for many. But all the damage I’m dealing now stems from them. And it is no joke. Treatments will be expensive, take a lot of time, patience and effort. My body, my immune system truly was shot. I’m bones and skin. Hair falling in clumps. Had vertigo, tinnitus, angioedemas, dysbiosis, super painful periods, inflamed cervix, persistent viral infection, deficiencies. All in the last 2years. SIBO was there already and I just didn’t know, and now just got way worse. I never thought this could happen to me. Antibiotics came with a very high price to pay long term - for me. I just wanted a worry free (health wise) thirties, but here I am, dealing with the damage they left.

PERIOD PAINS: One "interesting" thing happened also that same month I did the gut test - but I also wasn’t surprised. My Adeno /period pains came back with a vengeance. One single week of deviation from my usually clean diet managed to set my IBS(SIBO-D!) off again for 3 weeks and as a result my reproductive health suffered. It’s all connected we all know that. So, months and months of work to improve my pains - I was already 60% better just with diet alone, although it took me almost a year of clean diet to get there and start noticing consistent results - and one single week was enough to send me back to square zero. Thankfully it was just that one cycle and the next one I managed to keep my gut in “shape”, my diet clean (always with a lot of daily work on my part), and so my period pains reduced again significantly the next cycle I had. Of note, I also had another Vertigo/Tinnitus attack that only lasted 1 day thankfully, this same cycle. Coincidence? I don't think so.

(as an European non-English native please feel free to correct me) Take care 🌿

#uti #recurrent uti #chronic uti #bladderfulguration #bladder problems #bladder infection #interstitial cystitis #hpv infection #adenomyosis

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alienaiver · 1 month

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Hi Nohr, I hope I'm not being rude for asking but I read you have ARFID? What is it like for you? I think I may have it but Im afraid of 'self diagnosing' and being judged 😖

hiii sweetheart! ✨ youre not being rude at all, im very open about my issues and stuff, so ill be happy to talk to u about it !! (if u also wanna rant or open up abt ur situation more privately u can go off anon (if ur comfortable) and ill reply privately or thru dm's <3)

and yep, ive had arfid my entire life. its been different things that have been safe foods at different periods of my life !!

im putting the rest under a read more bcos i go into detail of my current restricted diet and stuff, so if that triggers anyone, they wont be forced to see it !! its also just a bit long lmao

rn its Very bad and the only things i can get thru my mouth is crushed corn flakes, gummy bears, a specific ice cream and on/off cucumbers. like ive eaten nothing else since sunday and very little of either. anything else i try makes me gag, nauseous or can even give me meltdowns if forced to eat. im dizzy all the time rn and very frustrated about it 🙂‍↕️ its also sooo embarrassing because like ??? my dude those safe foods are literally candy? and im afraid i seem like i just do it to eat candy but its not and i feel so ashamed 😭

i AM hungry tho; i feel the hunger and the low blood sugar, so i try to eat, get clammy and/or triggered and then thats that. cant try again until ive regulated back to a calm state of mind and feel ready to try again.

i also react strongly to my roomie's food/the smell. i have to go into another room if they eat anything with a strong scent, or sit in the opposite end of the living room. luckily, theyre VERY understanding of it so they dont get offended!!!

as i said im going thru a kind of extreme phase right now, but in my usual day-to-day life theres still tons of food i can eat. when im stressed, have my period, big decisions or other life crisis my food selection instantly limits themselves.

but like normally i have at least 10-12 different safe food meals, besides my 2-3 comfort foods and am usually more willing to try new stuff and comfortable exploring new things.

my current arfid flare-up started during early summer where i started repeating the same three meals (like last year when i lived off of onigiri and ramen) ill go to great lengths to prepare and make the food that is safe but as soon as its unsafe, i dont go thru the trouble anymore; thats usually my first warning sign. i repeat few meals and feel safe eating less and less varieties.

for me its not about calories or weight restrictions; its 100% sensory input. im not afraid of having adverse reactions like allergies, i just physically LOATHE the food in my mouth, it grows as i chew it and it instantly triggers my gag reflex.

theres little else to do about it but go thru it as best as i am able, drink lots of water and then supplement with shakes of fruit and protein powder. usually my arfid is a symptom of distress, which means i have to fix the underlying issue before it goes back to normal.

you should never fear self-diagnosing in any capacity, because the only thing an 'official' diagnosis is important for is a) treatment accessibility and b) inner understanding and comfort in knowing youre not alone. in a lot of countries, assessments like these cost so much with no insurance, so theres no shame in learning and figuring out yourself.

even if you end up not 'qualifying' for an arfid diagnosis, it does nOT take away your issues around food or the validity in your search for solutions !!!!

i wish no one would get judged for any 'quirky' eating habits but i think its something - depending on what youre able to eat - you may need to face daily or weekly. i have a very understanding circle of people around me, and ive been struggling with eating since i was a kid, so many people in my circle are also just. used to it. they worry and in the past theyve tried to force me to eat by taking me to restaurants that didnt have my safe foods to entice me to eat differently which is ALWAYS humiliating (they dont do it anymore). theyve since learned that taking it into consideration is way easier for everyone, and will make for a more positive experience if they want me included in the eating part of anything social.

a way to handle it is to practice how to respond to judgy comments, and figuring out what you want to get out of those. are you interested in educating them about arfid and why it is hard for you? maybe learn and remember some facts or offer some sources to send that they can read, and that youre happy to explain your experiences (if you are). maybe youre just looking to appease the situation and make your eating a non-topic? then shut it down 'nicely' with a smile and a laugh like 'yea, i definitelt am picky ahaha'. it can feel a bit like shooting yourself down choosing that road, but if its people u know you dont want to have the discussion with/will make it uncomfortable or youre just not that interested in opening up to them, you can shut it down like that. for me, practicing a few formulated replies in case anyone comments on it, have made it way less anxiety inducing for me to join in social gatherings and feel less blindsided !! (and if i have to go out to eat somewhere new i check the menu online beforehand!)

my twin has pretty hardcore arfid too and when we were kids, a little worse than me, so in some aspects ive never really been alone with my issues or felt completely ashamed because she was going through the same thing, which in my case, was lucky. i wasnt the odd one out or the weird kid (we were the weird twins tho lmao but we had each other !!!) but im sure finding community in facebook groups or even here (with me or others) can also really help on the shame around being so picky. let me know if you have any more questions or wanna talk about ur experiences, im genuinely genuinely always up for a chat and here for anyone who needs it !!! 🥰🧡

#nohr.talks #lovenote: anonymous 🥰✨#thank u for trusting me and coming to me !!!!! im hugging you ill always be there <3333333 #this is also okay to rb if anyone wants to. arfid is very stigmatised so if itd help anyone im comfortable w that

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meditating-dog-lover · 3 months

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Skin as of now

So my skin is looking pretty decent thankfully. No flareups, no redness, some minor cuts, and a lot of old inflamed spots are clearing up (wrist, neck, and earlobes). My wrist completely cleared up, neck has a dry patch that's not inflamed anymore, left earlobe is fine, and right earlobe is also healing (tiny bit of itchiness and flakiness but nothing concerning). My mouth is also better.

My hands are still dry and have some cuts, but no real signs of bumpiness, inflammation, or ooziness. It's so much better. I believed the steroids/protopic did help reduce the inflammation externally, and the gut supplements helped internally. So this combination got rid of some inflamed spots (which I hope never come back). Thankfully I'm not experiencing a lot of random itchiness like I did in the middle of the week at night for the past 3 consecutive weeks. I'm confident that things are getting better.

I did experience some itchiness on my hands this morning in the car when I applied sunscreen and rubbed my hands together to spread it. I did itch and rub, but it wasn't too bad and the feeling went away soon. But I don't expect my hands to be in perfect shape now, I just expect the inflammation to be better, and it's a lot better compared to May. It's at a point where my skin looks better overall, but the inflammation isn't gone and do experience itchiness and flaring which can make my skin look worse temporarily. But when it heals, it looks better than it did the week before.

So 3 things to consider as root causes of eczema: (1) nutritional deficiencies (vitamin D, omega 3 fatty acids, and zinc), (2) gut imbalances/dysbiosis and dysfunction (staph overgrowth), and (3) food intolerances and food/environmental allergies. For (1) I've switched to a fish oil supplement which can help with my omega deficiency. For (2) I'm still on a gut healing protocol and will see how to continue with that based on what my doctor suggests after I complete my treatment plan. For (3) I'm cutting out eggs and I'm going to do an allergy test soon (I really want to do one because I think it will be extremely helpful).

This evening I experienced some itchiness on my face (not eczema) and some on my legs and a tiny bit on my hands (not a full blown flareup and my hand skin looks clear which means the itch didn't trigger any eczema symptoms). Recently, I do experience this whenever eating some bread (ex: Panera) and I had a homemade sandwich with Ezekiel bread. This does not always happen, but it does here and there. I had Panera at work today and had no issues, it's just something that happens occasionally and more often quite recently Again I will be doing an allergy test. It's mostly my nose that's quite itchy. But it's not severe nor debilitating, it just kind of coincides with an allergy itch. Like I said doing an allergy test can be worth it because allergies can trigger eczema and I can get a full picture of my root causes outside of nutritional deficiencies, genetics, and gut issues. I'm also willing to get allergy shots to alleviate any symptoms if I do test positive for allergies.

But an itchy nose and legs aren't that bad. I'd rather deal with this than an eczema flareup. As I said my mouth, ears, neck, and wrist are a lot better. My hands look less inflamed too, just some dryness and cuts and occasional itchiness. I'll see how things get throughout this week. And I'll be continuing with my supplements and excluding eggs. I'll be doing an allergy test soon and I'll see how to proceed from there (any foods to avoid and if allergy shots can help). Environmental triggers can make eczema worse and that's a bit out of my control unlike food. So I think allergy shots can come in handy if needed.

I do expect to take the vitamin D and omega 3 longterm, the gut supplements I'll ask my doctor (who recommend to keep the antimicrobials if I get any future flareups in order to kill any residual pathogenic bacteria), and I'll see if eggs are still inflammatory in my case and will have the results of my allergy test (food and environmental) and can see how to work around these. I'll still have my steroids and tacrolimus for emergencies if they do come up (I hope they don't but I'm not going to discard my anti-inflammatory medication because that would be a very dumb thing to do on my part) as well as my anti-histamine (if doctor recommends them for allergies). Like I said I have elevated IgE and eosinophils based on my bloodwork, which is a sign I'm having an allergic reaction which can be responsible for my eczema. The next step is to get to the bottom of this and do some allergy testing. On the brightside if I have all this under control, then I doubt I'm ever going to deal with any severe inflammatory episodes of eczema. Thank goodness, this year was absolute hell.

In the worst case possible, I'll have my antimicrobials, antiinflammatory ointment, allergy test results, and access to a functional medicine doctor (reaching out to one was the smartest thing I've done this year).

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leopoldainter · 4 months

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