#get recovered from skin diseases

[babamarkdoctor]

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[housepixie]

moving every single piece of furniture in my apartment around because i am doing great in the head rn

[whispering-about-the-tmnt]

Some headcanons regarding TMNT physiology

Over the years, I have come up with some headcanons regarding how I believe the Ninja Turtles' bodies work. I thought that perhaps it might be nice to finally share them with all of you.

These don't apply to all the iterations, of course, but they are pretty well universal in my mind, and I tend to incorporate most of them into my fanfics.

The Turtles (like leatherback sea turtles, echidnas, and some dinosaurs) are mesotherms, meaning they are neither warm nor cold blooded. They are, instead, in a middle-ground: they internally generate heat, but not to a constant temperature. In the Turtles' case, they will shiver when cold, and their bodies will not shut down right away when the temperature dips too low, though they may lose some energy and find it hard to concentrate.

Unlike many other modern reptiles and amphibians, who have a three-chambered heart, the Turtles have four-chambered hearts (like mammals and dinosaurs) that are larger and stronger than average human hearts and located at the center of their chests.

While the average human blood capacity is around five liters, the Turtles have about seven. Much of the blood flows under the shell -- a remnant of their lives as ordinary turtles, whose own blood does so in order to warm them when they bask. This means that the Turtles could lose close to three liters of blood before dying, while a human would only be able to lose two.

Their blood is also highly efficient at clotting, but that also means that storing blood for transfusions is difficult, and so must be directly transfused from one turtle to another in emergency situations.

Owing to their extensive circulatory system, they also have a larger lung capacity than humans and more oxygen-rich blood, and so are able to hold their breath for extended periods of time without adverse effects. Other than this, the Turtles' respiratory system is very much like humans', utilizing a diaphragm to inflate and deflate their lungs.

Like regular turtles, they do not have ribs, but rather their carapaces and plastrons serve that purpose, and they have muscles under their shells that keep their internal organs right where they belong.

Also like regular turtles, their spines curve along the insides of their shells. A direct hit on the center of their shells, then, could cause damage to their spinal column and nervous system, but fortunately their vertebral shields offer a fair amount of protection, so it would take quite an impact.

The Turtles are highly resistant to most infections and diseases, which increases their immunological responses. They do not get sick easily, and they recover quickly.

While their scales are not apparent, they are integrated into their skin, making it tougher than human skin. It takes a very hard hit to raise a bruise, and it is difficult to cut through without a very sharp or pointed blade.

Their bones are similar to humans, but are more resistant to breaking. They also heal quicker and stronger if they are broken.

Their muscles are also very close to human-like, but they are stronger than an average human due to compensating for the extra weight they carry in their shells. Because of this, their ligaments and tendons are also tougher, and it is difficult for them to have a joint dislocated.

Their sense of smell is more acute than humans, but not to an extreme degree. They are also not as bothered by foul smells (though this has more to do with living in a sewer than their physiology).

Their eyes are a bit tougher and more resistant to damage than human eyes due to a protective membrane that covers them. They see a bit better than humans in dark places and underwater.

Their hearing is somewhat more attuned to lower frequencies than human hearing, and is not dependent on external ears but rather an internal auditory system (making direct damage to their hearing unlikely).

They are capable of being knocked unconscious, but it takes a significant impact. Permanent or lingering damage to their brains is unlikely due to their structure, and so they also do not tend to suffer the same side-effects that humans would in the same circumstances (nausea, memory loss, etc.).

Although their nutritional needs are similar to humans, they do not need to eat every day, and in fact can get by quite well without food for a week if necessary (though they won't enjoy it). When food is readily available, however, they will eat as much as possible to store up energy. Their metabolism does not slow down when they do not eat, so overexerting themselves when they haven't had any food for a while can burn them out suddenly.

Their sleep schedules are much like most diurnal animals, though they are able to stay awake for extended periods of time and can get by on little sleep, if necessary. There have been times when they have been awake for days on end, getting by on short one hour naps here and there. In general, though, they like to have a regular sleep/wake cycle.

Like other reptiles, the Turtles never stop growing throughout their lifetimes; however their growth is slow, topping off at about 1-2 inches every five years.

Does anyone have anything they would like to add to the list? I actually had fun compiling it!

[sabersandsnipers]

Drabbles: Reader is Sick or in Pain

Gortash

Enver Gortash considers himself a very busy man, but still finds himself wanting to spend every free moment he has at your side. And he feels anger. Anger at the fact that he can’t cure you instantly. Sure, there are spells to heal wounds and cure disease, but nothing for a simple cold. 

He’s in and out of your shared chambers throughout the day to check on you. He walks in after a particularly time consuming event only to find you buried under the covers, a cough bursting from you every minute or so. Your congested breathing causes his heart to ache. He wishes he could take the pain for you. 

He pulls back the covers a bit to take in your beautiful features. Your eyelashes flutter at the sudden brightness. He places his hand on your forehead. The warmth of them feels good against your skin, and you lean into his touch. 

He can’t help himself, he leans down and presses his lips to yours. Your hands find their way to his chest. He waits for the feel of your palms sliding over his skin, but instead you give him a slight push away. 

“No, you’ll get sick,” you say, eyes staring up at him. 

“I think I’ll live,” he responds, grinning. Then he climbs right into bed with you, robes and all. 

Astarion 

Astarion had all but forgotten what it was like to get ill. In all his two hundred years of living as a vampire, he had never gotten sick. It was perhaps the only perk of becoming such a creature. 

So when you fall ill, he delves into every book he can find on helping with fevers, flus, and everything inbetween. He also visited Shadowheart and Halsin, hoping they could help provide some remedies for you. 

The stomach flu is currently what has you in its clutches. Every hour, your stomach rolls and empties what little content is left. Astarion is right there by your side every time. He holds your hair back and uses his cold fingers to trace along your neck. 

Every time you get sick, your body flushes with heat. Sweat gathers on your forehead and your body shakes with fever. Astarion notices your struggle, and will pull you into his cool chest for relief. 

The feel of his cold skin against yours brings a sigh of relief from your lips. His chest is firm yet smooth, and grounds you against the pain you feel. And he’s more than happy to help you. He prays to whatever gods you believe in that you will recover soon. 

Halsin 

Your cycle is here earlier than its supposed to be, and it’s here in full force as well. The pain in your lower abdomen is blinding, radiating to your lower back and digging in its claws wherever it can. Curling up into a ball and applying heat when it’s available is the only relief you can find. 

Halsin paces in your shared tent, gathering whatever remedies he can to help you. Something you didn’t realize about Halsin until you shared a tent by the way, was that when in private, he’s always naked. Usually watching his massive frame do such gentle work has you craving his touch. But today, the pain takes over. 

“My heart, what has helped you the most with your pain?” he asks, leaning down to lightly brush a strand of hair out of your face. 

“Heat,” you respond, leaning into the warmth of his touch. 

He smiles. “I think I can help with that.” 

He scooches in behind you, pulling you back so you’re flush with his chest. One of his magnificently large hands snakes over your lower abdomen, pressing down so waves of warmth radiate towards the spasms and cramps that won’t leave you be. He’s not done yet either. He nudges a large, muscled thigh between your legs, right up against your core. The heat from him soothes the soreness you feel there. 

“Oh gods,” you sigh, moving your hips back to get as close to him as you can. 

Halsin groans. “Careful, little one. I need you to rest, and it’s hard to let that happen when you move like that.” He twitches against your bottom. 

You grin. Even in this condition, he still can’t help but find you irresistible. 

[hanasnx]

❝ mercury: retrograde. ❞

── batman x reader

MINORS DNI 18+ WORD COUNT: 2k SUMMARY: after your failed attempt to recover the last pieces of joker present in the victims of his diseased blood donation, you discover a mystery about the batman in both body and spirit. NOTES: during the events of batman: arkham knight, when harley quinn tries to reclaim the joker-ified victims from panessa studios. the reader is somewhat in the place of harley quinn WARNINGS: f!reader | explicit sexual content | implied creampie | unprotected sex | established relationship: enemies to lovers | size difference | slapping (m receiving) | previous relationship with joker is implied.

You stir at the feeling of strong grips handling your waist, the heavy haze of unconsciousness fading as you’re lifted from the ground. Memories gradually return with each inch gained, and your eyelids flutter open, the dull light stinging your gaze. The motion of you being punctually raised to your feet only to be thrown over the shoulder of none other than the BATMAN is jarring to say the very least. “Hey. Hey!” you interject when you come to, your mouth finally catching up with your brain as your stomach makes contact with his armored shoulder, and the wind is knocked from your lungs.

“Take Charisma back to the cells. I’ll catch up.” he orders the newest Boy Wonder. A man clad in red and green holds Johnny Charisma in a similar fashion to your position, mirroring you.

Robin nods, and sees himself out. “Don’t take too long.” he jests, and if you were paying more attention you would’ve rolled your eyes. Instead, you’re much too busy running your mouth with any kind of noise, kicking your feet, and banging your fists against the Bat’s lower back. With each blow, the cape bounces back to brush your angry hands, and in a brief fascination you clutch onto the foreign material with the intent to rip it. Of course, it doesn’t, and you consider the possibility of tearing into it with your teeth as you would duct tape. To calm your writhing legs, he straps an arm around your thighs, lumbering along with you on his shoulder as if you simply weren’t there. It’s dizzying being all the way up here, the Bat towers over most everyone… it’s that or all the blood that’s rushed to your head. He enters a different room than where Robin went, and momentarily you entertain the fact he seeks to interrogate you. But what could you possibly know that the Bat wants? It was always Joker with the big ideas. Now that he’s gone, you’ve been trying replace him as the Head Guy but it’s just not the same.

So you thrash. You move your body in any way you can think of, anything to loosen his vice-like grasp on you, but he is infallible. Taking you deeper into this abandoned set in Panessa Studios. “Put me down—! Hey! Are you listening to me? I said, put- me- down— Oh!” Your commands are interrupted by your own squeak of surprise as he unceremoniously drops you, landing on your feet with a bounce as your countenance shifts to one of endearing disbelief. You rally, skewing your features to convey indignity. “How dare you?” you scold, but it’s grossly performative. You raise your hand, punctuating your disdain for him with a sharp slap of admonishment to his cheek. It reverberates in this empty room, and his neck has craned from the force. Perhaps out of respect. You’ve seen this freak throw grown men across the room, you’re sure he feels nothing but a sting on his skin. So you give him another one, smacking him to pivot him to the other side.

“Touching a lady like that! You should know better! I’m wearing a skirt! Anyone could’ve seen! What would my men think of their boss if they’ve seen her panties? Huh? Do you have any idea what it takes to be a leader in this economy?” With each passing phrase, your voice heightens shriller, the emotion of the scene getting to you, but he is unaffected. Slowly, he faces you, opening his eyes to meet your vindictive gaze. “You—! You’re the one that killed him, if he were still alive I wouldn’t have to be in this mess—“ your tone cracks at the mention of the Joker, and a desperate sort of need takes you over. You throw yourself onto the statuesque vigilant who remains expressionless as you clutch onto whatever purchase his tight armor possesses, climbing up his chest to his collar.

Your instability is cause for your sudden shift in depression and wrath; one second you’re clinging onto him, shaking him (or more accurately, shaking yourself using him and his immovable body), and the next you’re pinching your features into a frown and weakly banging your fists against his chest for round two. They glance off, and he stares down at you. It takes you an inappropriate amount of time to question how long he’s been letting you do this to him, until he side-steps you. Comically, you fall forward from the loss of balance, the lack of his beam-like support causing you to stumble and clumsily regain your footing to round on him.

“Enough.” he commands, and his recognizably annoyed tone sets your lips into a thin line. “Tell me what you know.” Inviting himself into your space, this dark towering figure stoops to your level, forcing you to arch back as he imposes.

You audibly gulp, scanning his form. He notes that. That scares you. So you attempt to throw him off the trail, taking a step back so you have room to straighten, cross your arms, and stick your nose in the air. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you insist, and wiggle your shoulders, peeking at him through your closed eyes to gauge his reaction. You don’t have time to react before his huge glove has enclosed in the puffy fabric of your sleeve, yanking you back to him. Instinctively, you reach out, bracing against his chest so you won’t trip again. A furtive glance is paid to your hand’s position on his emblem, and when you meet his gaze he’s already looking at yours.

“You’re here for the patients. You think they’ve got the potential to replace him, don’t you?” Just like that, he ruins the moment with his big mouth.

You scowl, lifting yourself on your toes as if that’ll intimidate him. “They are him!”

“He’s dead!” The anger behind his words admits how resentful he is that you won’t deal with the Joker’s death.

“Because of you!”

“Don’t be stupid.” An alarming shift in his tone conveys an uncharacteristic smugness, one that creases your brow in bewilderment because of how likely the phrase sounded like Batman was about to laugh at you. “How long are you going to live in that fantasy?”

“I—” you begin, but a flash catches you off-guard. Untensing, you search his eyes for that flash again. A glint. A glimpse of that familiar viridian. You’ve looked into Batman’s eyes countless times, you know his irises are colored blue. But for one single second, you could’ve sworn you saw a little of J in there. As if you weren’t in control of your own body, you take a step forward. A great sense of relief overcoming you at the sight of green blooming faithfully in Batman’s eyes. “It’s you…” you muse in wonder, your gentle hands coming to cup his rough face, your fingertips grazing the helmet’s smooth material.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say you stunned the Bat. But he doesn’t let it last long, growling in offense as he uses your abused top to toss you against a prop wall. You clatter against the hollow wood, meagerly propped up by the 2x4s on the other side. His massive fist nails the surface right by your head, and you’re too in awe to flinch.

“Tell me what I want to know!” The Batman orders, and you know exactly what to tell him. You pounce on him, draping your body all over his armor as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Oh, I’ve missed you so much!” you exclaim. You had no idea a little taste of Joker blood had infiltrated the Big Bad Bat. Here he is, right in front of you again. Old feelings come flooding back as your lips peck at whatever is in reach, punctuated with audible “muahs.”

He recoils, but your grip only tightens, clinging onto him until he pries you off by his hands on your wrists.

“Oh, baby,” you croon, bending over to show him your cleavage as you wiggle it for him. “Why you gotta make me wait, huh? Didn’t you miss me too?” Your wrists, suspended in mid-air, make your arousal run impossibly deeper. Firmly enclosed in his big hands, restrained, you could jump out of your own skin. You tilt your head at him as he observes you, as unperturbed as ever, and you wonder if he’s fighting off the Joker-persona that takes over. “You know you want it…” you exhale, lusty and provocative. “I know you do. Whether you’re the Bat or the Joke I know you want me.” you test. Your tongue licks at the lipstick on your lips. “Don’t worry,” you whisper, desperate. “I won’t tell anyone.”

This is not the first time he’s been tempted by you, yet he finds it more difficult than the last to refuse you. He allows you to take a step closer. “Fuck it.” he says, and you squeal with delight as he scoops you up, pinning you back to the wall. You slam your lips to his, and he eagerly accepts you. The kind of kiss that’s fucking sloppy. Disgusting. As reserved and formal as he is in kissing you, you’re far too disorderly for that. All tongue, you thrust it out between your lips to shove it into his, enthusiastic in playing with his. Surprisingly, he accepts it but doesn’t match your energy as you tongue-fuck his mouth. You trace it over all the wrong places, giddy in the notion you know what the inside of Batman’s mouth feels like. You line it over his his teeth until you’re sure you could recreate his dental print from memory.

It all happens so fast. One second you’re making out, sucking on his tongue like it’s his cock, the next his utility belt is on the floor and his actual cock is rearranging your insides. He’s a lot bigger than your old boss.

“Fuck, fuck! Right there, right there!” you mewl your praises, wet pussy gratefully slurping up his every inch. It’s unfathomable how long you’ve gone without proper dick, and something about the way he’s bullying his way into you hits the spot. Everything from the angle of fucking you against this wall, to the gruff and animalistic exhales he expels with each thrust has your pretty eyes rolling into the back of your head. “Oh, my fucking God! Who knew you could fuck like this? If I’d’ve known you feel this good I would’ve hopped on your bat-cock years ago.” Mindless, stupid ramblings of a thankful whore, reeling from his thick fingers that leave bruises in the flesh of your thighs. He’s relatively quiet, letting you do the talking, perhaps he already regrets his decision to screw you but it’s too late now. Whatever implication this proves he’s not stopping to examine the morality of it, chasing his high and using your body to do it.

The familiar tremor in your thighs lets you know how close you really are, clawing at his armor. His hand cups your jaw, tucking your chin into the web of his thumb, pinching your cheeks together a bit as he adjusts you to look at him. “You wanna finish?” he asks through the grit in his teeth, and you nod furiously, stifled by his hold.

“Yes. Yes, baby, I wanna finish. I wanna cum.” you whine, seeking to please him.

“Promise to be good?”

A stinging thrill shoots up your spine originating from your sex. You had no idea he was into that kind of stuff, nor implementing it. You go crazy for it. Once again, you nod furiously. Whatever that definition entailed— to be good— you would do it. Anything for him. “I promise, I promise. I promise to be good, I promise.”

You find out later being good entails being thrown into a cell to await policy recovery. Oh, but it was fucking worth it.

[russellsppttemplates]

Let me love on you a little more (Charles Leclerc)

Sometimes, it felt like what you were doing was a drop in the immense ocean, but Charles always made you feel a little better when you had the chance to go home

Note: english is not my first language. I based this on the news and stories I heard from people on the front line! This is in no way romanticising or summing up what happened, much less downplaying it! I hold huge huge respect and gratitude for healthcare workers!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: Covid-19 pandemic and themes associated with reader being a front line worker as a doctor (mentions hospitals, tests, death)

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

"You can follow the purple line to the testing site we have here", you told the elderly woman.

"Is it going to hurt too much? My neighbour had to get tested to weeks ago when she visited her family and she said it's uncomfortable", she mused.

"It's a little itchy, I have to admit it, but it shouldn't hurt you, just a little bit uncomfortable, Mrs. Loire", you attempted to soothe her, your usual hand on the patients' arm now a strongly inadvisable way to comfort them.

"Thank you, Dr. Y/L/N", he said, her eyes letting you know that behind her mask there was a big smile on appreciation and gratitude.

Taking temperatures and checking flu like symptoms was not how you thought your medical career would pan out once you chose your speciality, but the new normal was this and you were working your best to do what you got into medicine to do in the first place, improve and save lives.

"How many people have you sent to the testing site?", your colleague Marina asked you when she noticed that for now, there were no walk-ins or ambulances with new patients.

"Just this morning, twenty-five", you sighed, "the closest I got to a potential non-Covid case was the kid that broke his arm, but Ortho swooped him right from me".

"Are you truly so disappointed about not being on an Orthopedics case?", she chuckled, "you hated everytime you had to be on that floor", she argued.

"I'd do anything that isn't watching people die because we don't have enough equipment or because we don't know enough about this disease to stop it", you let your frustrations out.

"We're going to win this, Y/N", Marina squeezed your shoulder, "you're usually the hopeful one on the service, but I can hope for the two of us today", she replied earnestly, "I'm going to have lunch now, do you want to go with me and sit on opposite tables so I can at least look at your face without a mask from a distance?".

"Let's go, I'm starving and I'm going up to the ward this afternoon", you raised your eyebrows, tidying up the station for whoever would cover the afternoon shift there.

As you walked to the area you had lunch in, you were happy to find the sun shinning outside on the green park area where you or the patients' family would take them to get fresh air when they were still admitted and recovering. It wasn't a thing now for obvious reasons, so you and Marina ended up in there keeping a safe distance while enjoying the feeling on the sun on your bare skin.

"Do you sometimes feel like you're losing all sense of time in there?", Marina nudged to the big building, "my mother's birthday was yesterday and I thought it was still a month away - she called me to say she had left a piece of cake for me by my door".

"Yesterday, Charles called me and told me he has going to wash my favourite hoodie of his and then wear it around the house so that by the time I came home it was nice and smelling the way I liked it. Then I reasoned with him that it wasn't this weekend because how could it be? Then I realised he was right", you took a spoonful from the tupperware.

"Are you spending the weekend at home?", Marina asked, smiling at how you seemed to finally be taking care of yourself.

You had been one of the doctors who didn't mind staying for longer in the hospital, reasoning that you didn't have kids and fortunately your family members didn't need assistance so you could cover more shifts and work as much to keep everything running smoothly. It caught up with you as it did with all your colleagues so you set specific times in your calendar where you would go home and, barring any catastrophic situation at the hospital, no one would call you for the days you spent home so you could fully relax with Charles.

"Yes, five days at home and then I'm back", you sighed, "and you? How is your little one doing?", you asked.

"My wife texted me an hour into my shift to say that Milo had a Skype call with his class and their teacher and he said his mama was in the hospital being a hero", she gave you a big smile and looked up to control the tears, "it's hard being away from them, but these little moments help", she added.

"Charles does streams with his friends, and apparently he's always mentioning me and the people on the chat have been very supportive - whenever he calls me he tells me that some fans recognise my voice and my name from the virtual appointments and that they've been here and treated by me, too", you blushed, "He's always hyping me up and I can't wait to be with him".

Stopping by the coffee machine, you both got another expresso shot before parting ways since Marina wasn't on the Covid ward for that shift.

"We've just intubated three more patients", the doctor finished her rounding up to you and the rest of the team that would take over for them, "beds five and six aren't looking good and we've alerted their family members already", he nudged.

Everyone knew what it meant when it came to calling the families, so you nodded, "hopefully they'll get here on time, have them page me downstairs when they arrive, please", you asked one of the interns before you excused yourself to put your personal protective equipment on.

"Is that you, Y/N?", one of the younger kids you had treated said as you got out of the room.

"Yes, it's me! You have a good eye, Arlo!", you smiled before noticing nurse Francesca pulling his wheelchair, "are you going home, sweet boy?", you gasped.

Arlo had been the first child you treated in the ward, only having seen adults up until that moment and it changed a switch in you. A small child struggling so much seemed to shake something inside you, and every time you called his parents with updates, you wished that you'd never have to make the dreaded call.

"I am, my lungs are all good and I'm not warm anymore!", he smiled, "I finally get to go home, my parents are downstairs waiting for me. Did you give Charles my thank you hug for the cap?", he asked.

When you noticed the little boy talking about the last Monaco GP and how he hoped one day he would be able to meet his favourite driver, Charles Leclerc, you couldn't find it in you to keep your relationship undisclosed. So, when you went home the last time, you asked Charles to sign one cap for you and told him to be ready for a FaceTime with the little boy. Arlo was the happiest you had seen him since he had been admitted, lighting up when he saw your boyfriend on the screen and giving him a few smiles despite his tired and sick state.

"I haven't been home yet, but I will give him the biggest hug at the end of the week!", you smiled, "I'm so happy for you, Arlo!", you gushed, making the gesture to blow him as kiss as he waved goodbye.

There were good stories, and even though they in no way erased the sad ones, they helped you carry on with the fight.

Laying on the on-call room after your shift, you took off your mask since no one else was allowed inside it other than you, doing your usual routine and setting your phone in the window sill.

"Hey, amour", Charles said on the phone, "how was your day?", he asked as he watched you towell dry your hair.

"Hey, mon coeur", you offered him a small smile, "I'm so tired I can't guarantee I won't fall asleep in a minute".

"It's okay, I won't mind. Did you get tested?", Charles asked as he seemed to be tucking himself to bed as well.

"Yes, another swab up my nose", you flashed him two thumbs up, "I'll have the results in the morning and hopefully I can get out of here for a few days and spend them with you and not quarantine in a hotel room", you crossed your fingers, "I don't have any symptoms, but still, you never know with this bastard".

"We'll spend it together, amour", he comforted, "I already have a lazy couple of days planned out for us", he smiled as you too tucked yourself on the oncall room bed.

"That sounds amazing", you closed your eyes briefly, "I can't wait to be with you", you yawned.

Charles knew better than to start anything important, just happy to see you were resting, safe and sound, making small talk to lull you to sleep before he ended the call.

After attending the virtual meeting so you could update the next team on how the service was running before you left, the results from test came back negative, which meant you could finally drive home.

Unlocking the door, you stepped inside as you heard commotion coming from the living room, "stay away while I put all of this in the cabinet", you warned Charles.

He was quick to go to the bedroom, getting his hoodie and a pair of shorts for you, "as much as I'd love to hold you all day looking like that", your boyfriend nodded to your figure in just underwear, "I think you'll be more cosy in these", he approached you as you finally let him touch you, his arms going around your waist and pulling your bodies closer, "I've missed you so much, Y/N", he whispered.

"I missed you so much, too", you pulled your face away from his chest before kissing his lips in a proper greeting.

Charles guided you to the living room after you got dressed in his clothes, stopping by the kitchen door to check if you had a proper breakfast to which you said yes, so he took you to the sofa, snuggling you two under the blanket as he put one of your favourite shows on the TV.

"I love you, Charles", you would say every now and again, completing the affectionate moments with a kiss or a squeeze.

During the afternoon, you and Charles ended up napping on the sofa, Charles waking up with you still fast asleep on his chest, making him kiss your forehead a couple of times and pull the blanket to cover you up.

"How long was I out for?", you rubbed your eyes two hours later, looking up to see your boyfriend's smile.

"A couple of hours, it looked like a really good nap", he kissed your nose.

"Yes, it was", you squeezed his body, "I'm really craving some carbonara for dinner, do you think we have what the recipe needs?", you questioned.

"We do - I did the food shop earlier this week and I got all of the supplies", he smiled, brushing your hairs away from your eyes and behind your ears, "do you want to get started on it?".

"Yes - I need to pee first, but I'll meet you in the kitchen", you winked, pecking his lips multiple times before getting up.

As he watched you walk to the bathroom, thoughts came flooding in.

This is what he wanted with you. Cosy intimacy that went beyond what happened in the bedroom. The domesticity that went beyond just spending time together and that shines through in the little moments of intertwined routines, special requests and little talks in the middle of the night about random existential questions.

Stepping into the kitchen, Charles gathered the ingredients, pots and pans before you stepped inside too, hugging his waist and nuzzling your face on his back, "you're so comfy, Charlie", you cooed before he turned around so he could face you, cupping your cheeks and rubbing them.

"And you're so gorgeous, mon coeur", he complimented, making you melt inside as you focused on the pads of his thumbs against your skin.

Slicing the guanciale, you removed the rind and cut the rest into small pieces while Charles grated the pecorino cheese and added the egg yolks to the same bowl, the pasta already cooking with the timer on the side.

Scrambling everything into the pot one last time before adding the pasta water a little bit at a time until it was spot on as you liked, making you serve it up in the plates and head back to the sofa.

"Haven't you had enough of the sofa?", you giggled as Charles let you sit before he placed the tray on your lap, doing the same with his own, "I know I haven't had the energy for much else, but maybe tomorrow we can go hike if you'd like", you suggested.

"I want to spend time with you, wherever you are - you're in the sofa, I'm in the sofa, you're in the kitchen, I'm in the kitchen, if you're in the bathroom, I'm in the bathroom", he stated like it was clear as water.

"Maybe not when I'm in the toilet, though, okay?", you squinted as he laughed at your antics.

Charles tidied up after the both of you, sending you to the ensuite bathroom for a bath he'd join you in as soon as he was done.

"You didn't get in?", Charles slumped his shoulders slightly as he saw you sprawled out on the bed.

"I was partially in a food coma, but also - I didn't want to get in alone and the water was a little too hot so I had to let it cool for a bit", you smiled, letting him pull you up and into the bathroom.

Stepping inside the bathroom, Charles grabbed your hips, "let me love on you a little bit more, mon coeur", he said as he pulled you to him, grabbing the hem of the hoodie you were wearing and taking it off of your torso, kissing the skin on your shoulders.

As he stopped his ministrations on your skin, you took the opportunity to take his t-shirt off while you shimmied your shorts and underwear, caressing his muscles before he also took the rest of his clothes off.

"Feels good", Charles dipped his fingers in the tub, getting in himself so he could help you sit between his legs and lay your back on his chest.

Your boyfriend brought his hands together and formed a shell shape with them, collecting water in them and wetting your shoulder blades, then letting it cascade down your neckline, boobs and tummy before he let his hands wander around to feel your body, hoping it would show you his love and appreciation for you.

After you got out, Charles rubbed your products on your face, giggling when you made little faces before you put on pyjamas, tucking into bed and cuddling his chest.

"You know I've missed you so much, but our bed feels heavenly right now", you chuckled, kissing his naked chest, "I love you, Charles", you mumbled before sleep took over you.

"I love you, beautiful girl, sleep tight", he whispered against your hair, kissing the top of your head before he rubbed your back.

Charles was woken up from your body moving a lot and the clammy feeling of your hand on his chest, looking for your face and noticing the crease on your forehead, "hey, amour", he gently shook you awake, "wake up for me, please, it's okay, you're okay", he urged as you opened your eyes wide as you took in where you were.

"I'm home, I'm home", you mumbled, taking deep breaths like Charles encouraged you to once you sat up, doing them with you a couple of times until you calmed down.

"You are, mon coeur, you are", Charles kissed your forehead when you rested your back against the headboard.

After standing there in silence while Charles played with your fingers on your lap, you were able to speak about it, "I hit five this week", you mumbled, "five people who have died on my watch since this thing started, five family members I've had to call to tell them their loved one didn't make it.

"And it's a small number when you compare it to other countries - so many colleagues are already on their one hundredth, but Monaco is so small", you reasoned, "I haven't had a number this high since I started at the hospital - in my regular service, I never lost five people".

"It's not your fault, amour - a virus is out there and you're working so hard to contain it", Charles pulled you to his chest, rubbing your arm up and down and kissing the side of your head, "the work you're doing with the testing site, making sure to slow the spread and ensuring everyone is as healthy as they can be - you're part of that, Y/N, and even though it doesn't seem like it, you're still winning, you're still beating the universe".

"I couldn't do it without you", you mused and Charles' scoff alerted you, "it's true, Charles! I would never be able to stay at the hospital for so long if you weren't supportive, if you weren't helping my parents and making sure they're doing okay when I can't do it! The way you support me and are there for me - the way your holding me like you always do", you snuggled further into him, "this helps me keep going - you do", you kissed his jaw, seeing his blushed cheeks in the dimly lit bedroom.

"We're a good team then", he accepted the compliment, kissing your temple again, "do you think you can go back to sleep or maybe we could have a chat, watch some TV, have a lazy makeout session", he wiggled his eyebrows.

"That last idea sounds great, I've missed that", you rolled over properly, taking his lips in yours as his hands roamed along your tummy.

[morallyinept]

Adrift With You - A Frankie Morales Series - Chapter 1

Summary: Heading away on a work re-location, Frankie embarks on a flight, but unbeknownst to him, his life is about to change forever. For starters, he will need to fight for it; harder than he's ever fought for anything else before.

Marooned on an isolated island in the middle of the ocean, still recovering from an addiction, his chances of survival are bleak; but he’s not alone on the island, and soon he’s running towards a different kind of life - a life with fellow survivor, Jude, fighting right beside him every step of the way.

And if they can both survive the island together, they can survive anything, right?

Pairing: Frankie Morales x OFC Jude

Chapter word count: 3.5k

SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

☝🏻See Series Masterlist for full smut warnings & triggers in this story. Chapters that contain smut or triggers will be highlighted in the chapter notes below. 👇🏻

Chapter notes: We meet Frankie and Jude. Setting up their stories. Mentions and descriptions of infidelity and drug use. Some very mild Frankie Spanish. Translations are provided.

Enjoy! 🖤

Prologue

One Month Prior...

It starts with heartbreak; the way all of our stories inevitably do. 

Not fictional stories, but our own real life stories. Man, that shit’s too real, too visceral. It’s like a disease and at some point in our lives - or several points if you’re unlucky enough, you poor bastard - it will infect and spread.

He’s trying to make sense of it all. Trying to figure out if he really is this guy that she so often accuses him of being; distant, unloving... absent. Trying to figure out if this is all life has to offer him now. Eternal uphill battles. Flashbacks. Scars that run deep in the trenches. Nightmares that break him out into cold sweats at night.

They always say that when your work life is going well, your personal life is going to shit. And it rings true right now. Francisco’s personal life has been teetering for so long and he’s unsure if he has the will to hang on to it any longer; out of harmony and sync, travelling a journey all of its own. 

His thoughts race like a never-ending storm; each one a torrential downpour of anxiety and just getting through each moment. One foot in front of the other, Frank. That’s what his sponsor says. But it’s akin to walking through drying concrete most of the time.

He stands in the doorway of their Floridian home, a small two-bit apartment not far from the beach, with peeling paint and scuffed tiles, that’s more cramped and suffocating as the days go on.

An apartment which he seems to be spending less and less time in, and realises something; something that strikes him hard across the greying fuzzy jaw with such a brute force sucker punch, it would knock that Standard Heating Oil cap right off of his crown of chocolate curls. 

He simply can’t do this anymore. Something has to change. 

And it’s somewhat of a relief to acknowledge finally, but the hard part isn’t over yet. Nor has it even begun. It’s there right in this moment on pause waiting for him to unravel it all; to take that tentative step off the proverbial ledge to change the stagnant quicksand of the status quo that he’s been stuck knee-deep in for an indeterminable amount of time.

He knows he’s let her down so many times. Fallen off the wagon when he promised over and over that he wouldn’t this time. That it would be different this time. That he doesn't need the coke anymore.

That he can get through it, if she just gives him one more chance. 

Francisco can hear her in the house somewhere; the sound of her yammering on the phone to a girlfriend and dissing him aplenty no doubt, and despite knowing he probably deserves it, it grates on his skin as it resonates with a sickly jab in the stomach. He has to put a stop to it now because it shouldn’t feel like this.

A relationship shouldn’t be hard fucking work, right?

He hasn’t got the strength anymore, or the will to fight. He has to pick his battles wisely these days. Remove anything that adds to his stressors, his triggers to reach for the baggies of white powder.

Step four, take personal inventory.

He doesn’t want to seethe or roar or resort to petty name calling or one-upmanship. He doesn’t want to get so angry that he’ll have to take his rage out on inanimate objects which she feels the need to decorate their home in dramatically. The mantra of less is more clearly doesn’t exist in her world as he looks about the place with rooting disdain.

She’s everywhere, like a damned parasite. 

Francisco tosses his keys loudly on the scuffed counter top and the murmuring upstairs ceases immediately. She knows he’s home. He braces himself, inserting a pod and flipping down the lid on the coffee maker; a cool spoon twiddling around his thick, dexterous fingers.

The shake is still prevalent in them and he breathes out slowly with his sponsor Eddie's voice inside of his head, find the root of your calm, Frank... but they still hold that subtle tremor. 

He’s absentmindedly checking his phone for non-existent messages from Benny over and over. He messaged him two days ago and still no response.

Growling, he tosses his phone on the counter and sniffs deeply as the creaking above him moves across the ceiling over his head. Delaying the inevitable and basking in those few calm moments before the storm of insults and verbal bitch slaps ensue.

It’s been so long since they merely talked like adults and didn’t yell at one another.

His long term partner Carla soon makes herself known to him; an anxious opus follows her with the steady pitter-patter of her shoeless feet on the stairs and the tinny jangle of the stack of silver bracelets around her wrist as she begins the search party for him. 

He makes it easy for her - no point in hiding or delaying the inevitable any further, is there?

“Estoy en la cocina,” (I'm in the kitchen) Francisco calls out in a gruff, Spanish tone. He doesn’t mean to be snappy, especially when she hasn’t done anything wrong. It’s his entire fault and she likes to remind him of that whenever she can.

“Qué pasa?” (What's up?) Carla greets, pausing in the doorway and regarding him like he’s a foreign invader in their home. 

“Hey.” He replies flatly through tight pink lips. 

The awkward lingering carries on for far longer than he would like. He tries to remember what it was like when they first met; what she was like. What the sunrise of her smile looks like because it’s been so fucking long since he’s basked and been burned by it.

Clinging onto any glimmer of affection that he felt back then for her to convince him to stay and work this out and put in some more effort, but it’s evident this can’t be saved anymore. Everything about her irritates him now; including everything he must have loved about her at one point.

“How was work? Missed you,” she looks at something just past his head; she never looks him in the eye when she tells him something heartfelt anymore. The same as she can never look him in the face when she lies to it either.

It’s hard to tell them apart now; they both contain the same emptiness about them. 

“Was fine. Busy.” Francisco simply nods once and the tension inside his gut unkinks itself, if but for a fleeting moment.

He turns to the coffee machine feeling sick, and watches as it pours out the brown, richly inviting aroma into the chipped mug which he probably won’t drink anyway. It’s all for show, just like everything else these days.

Strip it away though and what have you got? Absolutely fuck all...

“I need to tell you some-” Carla begins.

“I think we’re done.” He cuts across her; a quick knife to the gut before he’ll pull it out and wipe it free of her blood.

He stares across at the counter top with his back still to her; a cowardly response to not look her in the eye as he says it, he knows this. But it’s all he can offer her right now. 

She doesn’t respond straight away and he despises her for it. 

“I’ll go pack a case.” She breathes out eventually. Her voice is deflated, like a saggy balloon that’s being trampled on by drunken party goers at the end of a night of jubilant celebration.

Francisco hurls the spoon in his hand across the counter top, and she flinches at the clamour, stopping to look at him momentarily like he’s lost his damn mind. And perhaps he has; it’s so full of loud fuzz these days. 

“That’s it?” He questions with a thin line for his usually plump mouth and glowering brown eyes the colour of mud pools. 

“So you want me to fight for you now?” Carla asks languidly with no emotion in her face whatsoever.

It’s possible that she’s aged with the anxiety of it all. It’s like looking at a stranger’s face each time he sees her until one day she’ll be completely unfamiliar to him; a ghost just haunting the veins of his body and shitty apartment alike, merely somebody that he used to know and occasionally fuck. 

He doesn’t say anything whilst grinding down on his teeth. 

“I’ve been fighting for you - for us - for a long time, Frankie. Fat lot of good it’s been doing.” She remarks.

“Have you? It’s been sounding very much like constant whining, hermosa.”

“¡No seas un idiota ciego!” (Don't be a blind idiot!) She snaps.

“Fuck you!” Frankie seethes, stepping forward. “You’ve done nothing but blame me for…” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m tired of you secretly resenting me behind my back. At least do it to my fuckin' face for once.”

That was the crux of it, he was certain. Addiction is a costly price for everyone around you to pay. It’s been evident for a long time that Carla’s pockets have been running empty.

“I’ve always supported you.” She corrects, rolling her eyes. “But you’re too busy playing the martyr; you think you can do this on your own. How’s that working out for you?”

“You knew things were going to change when I started recovery-”

“But I didn’t think you would change with it!” Carla cuts back at him. “I don’t even know who the fuck you are anymore, do you?” 

Frankie runs his tongue around his teeth and sighs. This isn’t what he came for. 

“You’re never here! Even when you’re not working all the hours. I’m sick of being in this place alone whilst you go off and act like I don’t exist, leaving me to pick up the pieces. Waiting for you to call, to even bother to think to message me first. To see how I am or how I’m doing. It’s like I’m in the way; an inconvenience to you now.”

Frankie folds his tanned arms defiantly. 

“I’m not the one who changed, Frankie. You did.” Carla concludes.

She was right, he did change - he was engulfed, swallowed up and had just been keeping his head above water for a long time. Most days he didn’t have time for a decent shit, let alone focus on the things that really mattered to him the most.

They all got swept along with him, tossed simply in his back jeans pocket to sort out or call later and he wasn’t sure when or how he had let go of that control of being able to balance everything equally. Wasn’t sure how long he’d not noticed that it had all slipped away out of his big hands into a messy scatter at his feet. 

“I know things haven’t been good between us for a while.” Frankie confirms looking up at her from under the visor of his cap. 

“So what did you do to fix it, hmm?” She shakes her head defeated.

She isn’t even upset anymore. That time had long since been and gone when she’d spent many a lonely night crying into the pillows in their bed whilst he was AWOL doing God knows what with God knows who. All the worst case scenarios kept her company each night in place of his strong, reassuring arms. 

“You did what you always do; nothing. You just bury your head in the sand and run hoping it will all go away. And when it doesn’t, you cave. You turn to the coke. Drugs are more important than I am, more important than anyone you say you care about.” 

She’s bombarding him with emotional kryptonite. A hundred million little truths all with sharpened points, and he has no excuse for any of them to offer her, not really, as they pierce one by one and he bleeds out in front of her. Suffocating. Dying.

“You wonder why Benny doesn’t call anymore? Why hasn't Will come by? Hell, Santi can’t even bear to be on the same continent as you! And you can’t see it. Poor Frankie, woe is me. You’ve done this to yourself. And I’m done trying to carry you.”

He had pulled away, he had put his addiction first, above everything and everyone. Suddenly being sober for six months feels pointless, a useless feat that means nothing. He’d done it all, pushed them all away without even realising it. And she knew.

He was pretty sure she knew about the one time he had been unfaithful in the early days of his drowning too, but she was a trooper not to throw that up in his face now, although it was more than he deserved. 

“I’ll pick the rest of my stuff up later this week.” It was evident Carla was just done too. There was nothing left to fight for anymore between them. 

He scratched his elbow listlessly. “I won’t be here. I’ll be heading back up to New York in the morning; work’s got me on a service repair.” He reminded her. 

“I know. But then, why break the habit of a lifetime?”

Carla’s absence in the house around twenty minutes later left a harshly confronting moment of how life had just given him an epic kick in the balls.

But it was short lived when his phone rang; it was Eddie, his sponsor. 

Instead of answering it, Frankie simply watched it ring off, rapidly despising everything he was and had amalgamated to thus far in his bleak, shitty life.

At the same moment where Francisco Morales is standing like a lost boy inside his tiny, gloomy kitchen and trying to talk himself down from getting a much coveted fix, further north, approximately one thousand, one hundred and fifty-four miles away in New York City, Jude has just walked into utter carnage. 

It's been a trying time getting back home; her flight was delayed resulting from a crick in the neck from dozing on the hard terminal seats overnight, and the handle on her trusty camera equipment bag had finally snapped resulting in a broken lens.

But they always say bad luck comes in threes...

It’s cruel; the blood pounding in her ears is resolute, the shaking of her hands as she tries in vain to steady them through the shock, anger and sheer indignation of it all, becomes more apparent as the seconds wear on.

There are clothes on the floor that aren’t hers, and the sinking feeling rises to the back of her throat as the squeaks from the mattress springs echo out of the bedroom and into her ear canal.

It’s a ghastly symphony of putrid sex, make no mistake, as she pushes the bedroom door open and is met with the horrific sight of her fiancé Nate, balls deep in some other woman she’s never seen before. 

It’s as if the ground has opened up, revealing a threatening, desolate chasm where once stood the solid ground of her convictions, but now she’s tumbling head first into the dark unknown pit.

The echoes of his infidelity reverberate through her; a haunting melody of pain and disillusionment that threaten to drown her in a rabid onslaught of tears. Jude has no words, instead a noise similar to a toad escapes her mouth and it’s that little croak that interrupts them both from their feral fuck. 

The woman squeals and tries to hide herself when she spots Jude frozen in dumbfoundment, but Jude’s already seen way too much - seen enough.

Nate finishing over her face wouldn’t improve her looks - that’s the one comforting thought cutting through the brewing red mist that she’ll remember later - but it’s a miniscule comfort that the woman he’s cheating on her with isn’t that attractive.

But then, there must be something about her that he likes or desires if he’s got her spread eagle in their bed, right? Something he must like more than Jude now, and it cuts too fucking deep.

He’s never tried that position with me before... It’s odd what your brain tells you in the moments of sheer panic and devastation. 

Jude backs out of the room, stumbling as her foot gets tangled in the woman’s wayward bra, and even that’s more pretty than anything she owns, as Nate tries to clumsily protest - to say that he's sorry.

How can you be sorry for fucking someone else whilst you tell another person to their face that you love them? That’s the epitome of stupid, surely.

But Jude has to get out, get away. She’s going to vomit, she’s so mad and hurt and angry that her skeleton is trying to rid itself of the binding skin that keeps it in place. But she swallows it down despite her heart thudding and her stomach lurching, ready to spew like Mount Etna.

She’s not sure how she doesn’t fall down the stairs as she jostles down them quickly.

Nate’s shouting after her; his hand cupping his traitorous, sticky dick as he follows her out the front door as she gets back into her car with no idea where she’s going to go. Autopilot is running the show and she’s just a passenger along for the confused ride. 

He bangs on the window and muffled words of ‘babe’ and ‘sorry’ filter through the white noise of her ears ringing. 

Jude reverses out the driveway fast; tires screeching, and knocks over the neighbour’s mailbox - they’ll understand.

She zooms away choking on hot tears that she refuses to let the cheating bastard have. 

Once at a safe distance, she pulls over and sobs into the steering wheel unable to see past the hot salt of her tears as they blind her vision. It’s the embodiment of ugly crying at its finest; snot laden and howling at the moon over the son-of-a-bitch who has well and truly stomped on her heart that never fucking learns. 

She shakes her head at her own imbued ignorance, realising that it’s never bliss. 

So many whys float around the air above her head and she has no answer to appease them as they grow in size and weight, crushing her skull into a mushy pulp. All she has is that vile image on repeat as she pushes open the bedroom door to be met with her worst nightmare.

And she lives in that moment over and over again, and has done on constant repeat since it happened, only mere minutes ago.

It’s man’s prerogative to be a massive dickhead, and Nate’s clearly the biggest one she knows right now.

The usual, steady rhythm of her heart is beating a little faster, ever since Nate had let the meaningless words spill out from his lips and dumped them into her lap, and now she’s floundering with what to do with them. A bit like having someone's baby passed to you despite your reluctance, and it won't stop screaming in your face.

Babe, I’m sorry!

Nate’s a piece of shit, but utterly gorgeous nonetheless. And that’s why she lets him chip away more pieces of her backbone. Why else would she tolerate this? He’s a flirt, she knew it the moment she'd entered into a relationship with him, but a harmless flirt can be different to someone who takes it up a notch.

Nate had simply ramped up his flirting to bedding plenty of women before, during and certainly after their relationship; she was certain there were more than he would ever let on - more than Jude probably ever caught him with. And she was an idiot to think he would ever change. They never change. 

I’m sorry babe, I couldn’t help it; her vagina was whispering to me. Yeah, of course it was, you fucking jerk.

Jude was also certain she’d leave him the first time he cheated on her, but we’re all full of good intentions, right? There’s this saying, better the Devil you know then the Devil you don’t...

But if that Devil is killing you, then what? 

It sucks to be alone; to be single in a world where you’re not meant to be a single. Humans are wired for love after all. But better to be alone and crying into your third glass of cheap grocery store wine whilst watching Bridget Jones on repeat than be cheated on by this no good, handsome piece of shit anymore. 

Why did I let myself get into this situation? Why didn’t I leave the first time? Why do I fucking love him so much? More killer whys take aim before they’re shot at her head. 

This is it. No more. I’m done. I can’t do this anymore.

But then images of Nate's face cut in through the swamping doubt about facing the world alone. Flooding with those bottle green eyes of his that would regard her when she said something funny and made everyone around her laugh; those lips that would perk up into a chirpy chuckle as he roared alongside them all at her sardonic quips and punch lines.

His smile was a disease; one glimpse at it and you would be infected too. That was it, it’s that fucking smile; women can’t help themselves by tripping over it and falling face first into his cock.

The way in which he would pull covert, weird and creepy faces at her whilst she’s trying to watch a movie together surges her mind; the thought of seeing him naked... Fuck! 

Jude looks down at her hand through the streaming tears and catches the sparkle of the small, moderately sized rock on her engagement finger.

In absolute disgust, she tears it from her digit, exits the car and throws it with all of her might as far as she can. 

The last she saw it, it was flying through the air, much like her heart and its tangle of ventricles, into the dank roadside shrubs, never to be seen again. 

To be continued...

SERIES MASTERLIST | PROLOGUE | NEXT CHAPTER

Thank you for taking the time to read my story; it really means so much to me. I'd love to know your thoughts, and I'd really appreciate a re-blog so others can enjoy this story too. Thank you so much 🖤

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Tagging everyone who asked to be tagged/commented on/re-blogged my initial teaser & prologue:

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[loveemagicpeace]

1st house & how you see yourself ☕️👸🏽

⭐️The planets in the 1st house represent your energy, how you present it to others, how you give it. How others see and perceive you. And how do you see yourself, how much do you put into yourself and your appearance. How important you are to yourself. People who do not have planets in the first house will not put as much emphasis on themselves and their appearance. They will invest more in other areas of life. Perhaps they will find it pointless to put a lot on themselves. At the same time, the ruling planet of the first house is also important. For example: Sagittarius rising with Venus in the 2nd house - you find your value through material things, money, luxury items, food, music.⭐️

☀️Sun in 1st house - these people emit a very positive and glowing energy. People can see you as someone who is fun, inspirational and has good energy. Maybe a person who knows how to motivate others. You perceive yourself as a strong and shining person. Having a strong sense of who they are because sun emits an abundant energy and makes them very resistant or easy to recover from diseases and difficult periods in their life. It gives them a strong sense of self, so they always feel important and work hard to become someone with great distinctions.

🌙Moon in 1st house- these people emit emotional energy, and will often show their emotions outwardly. You have an emotional attitude towards yourself and you will tend to dress according to how you feel. You have good intuition and are good at judging the situation. These natives need to always have their emotions stimulated and to express themselves freely if they are to be truly happy. You dress how you feel. Usually, you prefer something that is comfortable. You express how you feel with your style.

🌱Mercury in 1st house - you have more personalities and styles. You can change a lot about your personality and the way you look at things. You give a lot to small things and neutrality. Your personality can always change, so people can't quite rate you. You can appear in several colors, but only you know which color is truly yours. People see you as a person who is flexible and talkative. In terms of style, this person usually likes neutral colors or likes t-shirts or clothes that have small details.

💍Neptune in the 1st house - you have a rather dreamy, fairy-like, smooth energy. You emit an energy that can often be confusing for others, because you can present yourself to a very mysterious nature as a very beautiful fairy, but you have a mysterious nature behind you. Sometimes even untouchable. I would interpret this placement with the queen of cups or mermaid energy. You can quickly delve into a certain personality or develop it within yourself. You can radiate goddess energy with your style. You can have a lot of secret fans.

🌹Venus in 1st house - your energy is charming, beautiful. People always find you beautiful and attractive. You can have a lot of fans. You can present yourself as a person who may be unattainable or people find you as a person who can get everyone. You like to admire yourself and dress in elegant clothes. You always want to look nice and tidy. You know how to show your value and you are aware of how high your value is. You can be obsessed with always having new clothes or you really like trying new things on yourself and you usually like makeup. Or you are aiming for a very natural look. These people spend a lot on jewelry.

🪼Mars in 1st house- your energy is very strong, wild, fearless, daring. People may find you sexually attractive or very impulsive. Your style decisions are often sudden. Many times it is more fun for you to change something and surprise others with it. You spend a lot on sports or exercise, and through this you feel the best in your own skin. This energy is also many times more masculine. And these people often like to dress in more sporty clothes. But they can also dress very boldly.

🪴Saturn in the 1st house - your energy is calm, grounded, mature, responsible. You emit energy that is more stable and knows what it wants. People may see you as someone who will always act responsibly or follow the rules. It can also mean that you like a more business style. You take things more seriously than others. You put a lot on reputation and always look good. But these are people who never judge. They are people who do their own thing and do not look at others around them. Their approach will always be stronger or more pronounced.

🪷Uranus in the 1st house - your energy is unique. People fill up quickly. You have a special style and look that others don't have. Many times you wear clothes that others wouldn't wear or they don't think it would suit them so well. Meanwhile, this looks really good on you. You have your own vibe. But here is the other side of Uranus, which can manifest itself in a very strange way. Maybe people find you strange or a person they find difficult to understand. You can come forward too cleverly, or you want to emphasize your opinion too much.

🫧Jupiter in the 1st house - your energy is fiery, optimistic, spiritual. A lot of times people can see you as someone who is funny and has a lot of wisdom inside. They can see you as someone they can learn from. Your style is colorful and special. You really put a lot of effort into your appearance and always want to look good. These people buy a lot of clothes many times and like to change their style and try new styles. They like to change themselves and always add new accessories. People always notice you and notice your confident energy. Just by your entrance, the energy is visible and people notice you like that.

🌊Pluto in the 1st house - your energy is mysterious, quiet, deep. Many times people find you as a person who has a lot of secrets and a person who is very strong. People often admire your strength and how stable a person you are. They are the people who will really have a lot of problems and will keep everything inside. You will never show your weakness. You like clothes that are darker or bold. You also like clothes that nicely complement your figure.

-Rebekah💍🐚

[ravenelyx]

Apple Of My Eye - Sebastian Sallow

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x Fem!Reader

Word count: 1k

Warnings: Fluff, headaches, Sebastian is concerned in true Sebastian-fashion

Summary: You've been getting headaches for a while - far too long for Sebastian’s comfort, and he can't help but worry.

A/N: another indulgent work - enjoy <3

Masterlist

You can find the full fanfic on ao3 as well <3

Ominis' version

Sebastian was positively, utterly, completely freaking out.

Sitting on the couch in the Common Room, he stared at the fireplace musingly, his hand tapping rhythmically on the armrest. He was pretty sure Ominis was on the verge of grabbing that hand and severing it from his wrist if he didn't stop soon.

He didn't care.

The only thought swirling in his mind was her — and how, just a few minutes before they had parted ways, she had pressed two fingers on her forehead, wincing slightly.

Sebastian couldn't stand it anymore.

He had spent the past two weeks with her, studying together for their upcoming N.E.W.T.s, carrying her books around, soothing her with small kisses whenever she began to rub her tired eyes, and watching helplessly as she took painkillers after painkillers. He had tried to reason with her and tell her that taking so many potions everyday wouldn't be good for her health in the long run, but she wouldn't have it, insisting that she was fine. It broke his heart.

"Sebastian, if you don't mind, can you still your hand or have you suddenly caught that one muggle disease that won't let you stop moving?" He heard Ominis' sarcastic voice next to him, and it snapped him from his thoughts.

"Perhaps I did catch that," the brunet grunted back.

Sebastian's movements didn't cease as his friend dearly wished, and the blond only sighed tiredly, muttering a few curses under his breath as he stood up.

"Well then, I hope you recover soon," the boy snarked sarcastically and walked away.

Sebastian's eyes didn't move from the fireplace, his skin tingling with the impelling need to find her again and drag her to the bloody Hospital Wing to make her better. Whatever her problem was, he would find a solution to it, even if he had to swim to the moon and back for a mere hint.

"Screw it!" He suddenly muttered, jumping up and storming out of the Common Room, not caring that curfew was near and he would probably get them both into trouble.

"Come with me," he declared once he saw her, ignoring the usual good manners and, above all, saccharine talk he only reserved for her.

"Sebastian?" She asked, surprised at both his presence and his unusually harsh tone. "Is there something wrong?"

"Don't act like you don't know," he spat, and she flinched for a second, before registering the subtle, underlying worry in his tone.

"Is this about my headaches again?" She crossed her arms and shifted her weight on one leg. "I already told you, I'm fi–"

"Don't you dare," he interrupted, walking closer to her and placing his hands on her arms. Given his tone and the words he had just spoken, she had expected him to grab her and drag her to the Hospital Wing rather harshly. But his hands were soft, his touch gentle as he guided her closer to his body. "Tell me the truth. Why? Why do you get them so often?"

Her eyes softened at the distress in his gaze, and she lifted her hands to cup his cheeks.

"It's just my eyes, Sebastian. I… I think I've been studying too much, and my eyes are always tired," she sighed, tracing circles on his cheeks with her thumbs.

"But how do you know it's about your eyes? It could be something else," he retorted, shifting even closer, the concern unwavering in his eyes.

"I feel it. I recognise the pain," she explained. "It's directly behind my eyes, and it increases the more I use them."

"Then close them," he pointed out, and placed his palm on her eyes to cover them like a blindfold.

She laughed and gently moved his hand away. "Look, I'll stop taking so many potions if that's what worries you–"

"But then you'll be in pain," he protested, interwining his fingers with hers. "I'm sure there is a way to kill two birds with one stone."

She bit the inside of her cheek, her eyes slightly twitching every now and then when the brightness of the torches around them felt overwhelming. He noticed and moved his body to shield her from the light.

"Sleep," she mumbled. "Going to sleep helps… but it has to be a deep sleep, not like a slumber, more like — from a nap upwards, in a scale of sleep…"

His eyes fleeted over her face and then moved to the ceiling, as if expecting the old stone to morph into a pyramid scheme of resting protocol.

"Then let's go to sleep."

"Wha–" she had no time to protest as he tightened his grip on her hand and began to guide her to his Common Room.

"Sebastian, wait–"

But it was no use: he walked all the way to the dungeons, making sure she would follow as his hand never left hers, and then through the door once they reached the entrance.

Her eyes widened once he aimed for the stairs of the boys' dormitory.

"Sebastian, I can't go in there, I–"

"You can and you will," he cut her words. "The stairs allow you to."

She bit her lip. "B-but–"

"You'll sleep. And I'll make sure of it," he pulled her closer, placing his palm on the small of her back once they reached the landing of his dorm and gently pushing her to the door, not stopping until they reached the bed.

He obviously gave her privacy as she changed — despite her having to wear his clothes to sleep as the suddenness of the situation made her completely unequipped — and then joined her once she was safe under the covers.

"Never hide from me again," he whispered, pressing two fingers on her forehead to rub soothing circles.

She only nodded, and he wrapped his arms around her, making sure she was comfortable as she rested her head in the curve of his shoulder.

He kept his touch light and soothing on her scalp and back until her breath evened and became soft and heavy.

"You'll feel so much better soon," he kissed her forehead, and joined her in sleep.

[ashcal99]

Collarbones : Jasper Whitlock Hale~

Prologue

"I can see your collarbones and baby I'm scared, Never thought I'd be so unprepared"

Summary: Camila Johnson was only 16 when she was diagnosed with leukemia. By the time she had turned 17, the doctors had tried everything to save her. Her family is close to giving up hope when they hear of a doctor who may be able to help her. The only problem is, he lives on the opposite side of the country. The small family soon decides to move to the small town in Washington, in efforts to prolong her life. In doing so, her life changes forever.

Warnings: Eventual smut (18+ only), mentions of death, depression, descriptions of disease and weight loss, general angst, slow burn

Words: 1.8k

A/N: Not sure how many parts this will be but yahhhh. Comment if I missed any warning or anything plz thnx.

Soundtrack

Series Masterlist

——————

January 22nd, 2005

Snow had always amazed Camila. The way that each flake was so diverse in size in shape. It was quite like people she had thought. All beautiful is their own unique way. As her eyes focused on a particularly tattered looking flake she thought that must be how she looked. Fragile and so ready to melt away from this world. Just teetering on the edge of existing.

She wasn't used to snow, had only seen it a couple of times in her entire life. You didn't get much snow in Orlando. None to be exact. But her world was going to be different now. Everything in her life had been uprooted because her body couldn't do the most simple thing in the world; live. The majority of the world's population had so much life to live, years to make mistakes and find their purpose, to find their happiness. She didn't get that privilege, however, not since she got sick.

So there she was, in the back seat of her mother's mini van staring at snow falling on her window for the past ten minutes. It had been just the year prior Camila had found that her body was failing her. Leukemia. A disease she had known little about before all of this. So many doctors, so many tests. She often wondered if this was all worth it. Moving their entire lives across the country for her health, when she most likely would never recover. Cancer was expensive and the odds of her survival weren't looking too good. She practically had one foot in the grave as it was. What was the point of dragging on another year of her life if it meant piling on medical debt?

She knew her parents would never see it this way, so she had always kept those thoughts to herself. In reality, she had come to term with dying not long after being diagnosed. It was too mentally exhausting dreading the inevitable.

Of course she had to put on a brave face for her mother and father. Dying was simple for the dead, you take your last breath and you're done, you're free. The real tragedy was with the people who were left to mourn the dead. To have someone you love so dearly be ripped away before your eyes, the pain was unimaginable.

So she endured the treatments, the testing, although she knew in the end, it wouldn't work. She would get another year at best. Most likely less. She had low expectations for her life now. She knew, as much as it hurt her to her core, she would never get to go to college, get drunk, get married. Her whole dream of a life had dissolved with her diagnosis.

Her parents seemed to think otherwise, hence the move. They had heard of a doctor in a small town in Washington. They had hoped that he could help. Naive wishes, but Camila wasn't about to take that away from them, no mater how much it hurt to see them waste so much money on her deteriorating health.

She could see it, her body starting to wither away. Her once curvy stature had began to whither away to skin and bone.  Her eyes, once bright and joyful had turned dull, filled with pain. In fact everything had turned dull, her eyes, her skin, hell, her life. She had a future before everything, and now she had nothing but a ticking clock on her life. Her bones constantly aches and she was always covered in bruises, sometimes it even hurt to breath.

A small sign blurred by her window, welcoming the small family to the town. Finally, signs of civilization were starting to appear as the drive further into town. They had been driving along empty road for what seemed like years, so she was relieved to see some life finally.

The van slowed to a stop in front of a house suddenly. The house was a small homey looking thing, painted a dull yellow. Ugly, but still cute in a weird way? They had to size down from their house previously, having so many medical bills to pay off. Luckily, they weren't a huge family. Just her mother and father besides herself.

Her parents had wanted more kids, having Camila at a young age, but after years of trying, they were met with no success. Who knows, maybe they would try more after Camila died. A second chance at being parents. She hoped they would, they were good parents. The best she could have ever asked for. She was truly lucky to have them.

Ignoring the aches in her joints, Camila stood slowly from her seat onto the cracked pavement of their new driveway. She circled around the car to meet her father at the trunk. They had left most of everything behind to make the move easier, deciding to buy cheap used furniture instead. "What can I help bring in?" Her voice croaked, groggy with fatigue.

"Nonsense, sweetheart. Your mother and I have got it." Her father tutted shooing the teen away. She huffed, laying her hand out in front of her.

Her father looked questionably at his daughter's palm. "Well, I at least need the keys. Don't I?" She laughed, rolling her eyes sarcastically. Receiving a low chuckle in response, he dropped a small silver key in her hand.

"This one can be your copy." He smiled down to her.

She made her way into small house, floorboards creaking beneath her feet as she walked into the family room. The house was only one story, this having been a selling point to her parents as their last house had been two floors. After being diagnosed, it had become too difficult for her to walk up the stairs to her bedroom on a daily basis. There were only two bedrooms in the house, the master, and her own room, so it was easy enough to avoid getting lost. She swung the door open to her own, the hinges whining in protest. 

It was small, but freshly cleaned. She could smell the faint scent of pinesol in the air. The wooden floors were bare except for full sized mattress that sat against the far left wall. Her mother had already made a deal with their realtor, making sure that she had acquired a bed before they got there, so Camila could go to sleep early like she often did as of late. 

Fatigue often riddled her withering body, but at that moment she was more alert than usual, ready to set her room up and decorate to her liking. She walked to the small window that sat to the right of the mattress and drew the thin white curtains back. The ground outside was stark white with snow and bare besides the trees that lined the edge of the forest. At least she got a nice view. 

Once her boxes were carried into her room for her, she began unpacking. She went through piles and piles of her clothing, most of it being many sizes too large. After losing so much weight, she had refused to go out and buy anything new. What was the use when the new clothes would stop fitting within a few months anyway? She did have to buy a few new items, like underwear and a few pairs of pants, but for the most part, she made the baggy shirts work and wore a belt when necessary. If anything, it would hide how unhealthily skinny she was becoming. 

Letting out an exasperated sigh, she finished hanging the remainder of her clothing in the cramped closet. She pushed the last few boxes aside, opening one to grab some clean bedding and a pillow. She struggled, bones starting to ache fervently and she stretched the last corner of the fitted sheet onto the mattress. She huffed as she threw the blankets and pillows in place and stepped back to look at the finished product. She shrugged, deciding that it looked comfortable enough.

She sluggishly pealed her clothing away from her body, exhaustion suddenly hitting her like a ton of bricks. Pulling on the old worn sweatpants and t-shirt she had set aside, she plopped down onto the plush mattress, already feeling her eyes droop with sleep. She decided she would push her shower off until morning, knowing it wouldn’t go well if she was so lethargic. The last thing she needed was to pass out in the middle of showering.

January 23rd, 2005

The warm stream of water poured over her fragile body, trailing down her thin frame. She let out a contented sigh, relishing in the comfort that it brought to her aching skin. She looked down at herself, taking the sight in. Her hands were becoming much bonier than before. Her old rings no longer fit her fingers, sliding and rotating anytime she tried to wear them. Her hip bones jutted out, no longer having a layer of fat to cover them.

She had used to be a little chubby, always wishing she could have a flat stomach. Now, she would do anything to get her old body back. It was odd how that worked. You really didn't appreciate what you had until you lost it.

Her thoughts were cut off, the once warm water turning to ice. Shit, she thought, jumping out and engulfing her rigid body in a fluffy towel. Guess the hot water ran out. She wrapped the towel snuggly around herself, walking swiftly to her room, locking the door behind her.

The sun peered through the crack in her curtains, leaving a beam of blinding light streaming through the mostly empty room. Rummaging through one of the boxes labeled with her name, she grabbed her hairdryer and plugged it into the outlet next to the one mirror she had brought from the move. She didn't like the way it made her hair frizzy, but she also didn't want to go to her first day of school with wet hair. She definitely didn’t need to get sick with a cold on top of everything else.

School. Forks High School. She didn't enjoy the fact that she would be entering halfway through her junior year, but she refused to let her parents keep her home any longer. She had begged them to let her go, her lack of a good immune system being the reason they had taken her out in the first place. She wanted to experience some kind of normal high school life before she died. She wanted friends again. So she had decided to try and conceal her sickness as long as possible. She didn't need people's sympathy, she'd gotten enough of that, she just wanted some sense of normalcy. Luckily, her hair hadn't started falling out from chemo yet, so for the time being she could act as if things were normal.

But in the end, it would be the farthest thing away from a normal high school experience.

Next Chapter

[babamarkdoctor]

Powerful Traditional Healer, Psychic Reader, Harboulist and Love Spell caster in  The demonic distress of bad luck, witchcraft, relationshipproblems, financial stress and spiritual illnesses end today! Want to Fix a BIG Problem? Battling with an Addiction? Need To Solve A Dispute? Suffering a Spiritual illness? Witchcraft Eating YOU Up? Bring Back Lost Love instantly Spice Up Fading Relationship Find a True Love Or Soulmate Break Up and Divorce Spells Bind Lover Not to Cheat Again Restore Happiness in Marriage Come To Me Wiccan SpellsDisclaimer: Please be advised tLike transparency and authenticity, I only do offer spiritual healing and spellcasting services for those in need of them. Are they required for everyone? Not.Will you receive value and insight even if you don’t want to take up my services? Absolutelyyes. All my services are spiritual and therefore the results might vary from person to person.Some people will see what’s possible, and know that working hand in hand with my spiritualpowers are just what they need to get results even faster. It’s completely up to you but I hopethat you’ll at least try one of my services, use them, and let the world know.

Powerful Traditional Healer, Psychic Reader, Harboulist and Love Spell caster in   Colmar, Haguenau, Mulhouse, Ribeauvillé, Strasbourg France, The demonic distress of bad luck, witchcraft, relationshipproblems, financial stress and spiritual illnesses end today! Want to Fix a BIG Problem? Battling with an Addiction? Need To Solve A Dispute? Suffering a Spiritual illness? Witchcraft Eating…

[maddascanbe-blog]

Miracu-class girls are done! It took less time than I initially anticipated, thank goodness. Let's talk re-write's and re-designs shall we?

Sabrina so freaking cute, give the girl her hat. It was probably a gift from Chloe. For her redesign I thought she would be the kind to dress in cute blouses and flowy skirts. She has tennis skirts in every color for every occasion. As for her re-write- anyone who saw how I changed Chloe probably will guess that their dynamic is drastically changes as well.

Sabrina met Chloe when they were in their tween years, Officer Roger having worked security for the Bourgeois on multiple occasions. One day he had to bring his daughter into work and Chloe found her wandering the halls. When a kidnapper tried to abduct Chloe, Sabrina sprayed him with pepper spray her father gave her and then kicked him in the dick for good measure. Chloe then declared that Sabrina should be her full-time body guard, and she technically is being paid to hang out with Chloe. But Sabrina would have done it with or without the money since Chloe is actually very endearing once you figure out how she works.

Alix is next! Alix's violently pink hair could not be ignored, so I kept it (albeit a little less saturated) Also she is in fact still short. Her outfits are probably all variations of sports gear unless she has an event to attend at the museum. I also tanned her up since I imagine she spends a lot of time outside, girl is sunburnt. She is actually a year ahead in history, having gotten too bored with junior level classes. So she's friends with some of the seniors too. I won't get into Bunnix anytime soon but- let's just say it's a lot more tragic than cannon would ever admit. The rabbit's powers are changing, and Alix still has to live with that.

On a lighter note, Juleka, as stunning as ever. Tall queen. She is a year behind since her lack of participation in classes ultimately tanked her grade in several subjects. Her band director was more then happy for her to stay an extra year though, since she is trained classically as well as electrically on the bass. She may not like talking, but she has little fear of performing when the music can do the talking. Her twin brother actually graduated early, and he's working now to help pay for the band the two want to start. Her design doesn't change much from her cannon one other than the fact I switched her ripped leggings for lace ones. I imagine she actually has many outfits in this color pallet, since Chat Noir quickly becomes her favorite hero.

Mylene, okay the change I made here is pretty obvious. I debated for a long time on whether or not I change her skin tone. And when I did the line art? Wasn't planning too. But changed my mind last second, since I thought it helped the color pallet more. This would imply she is mixed, with her dad looking pretty much the same as cannon. it's hard to tell her unless you look closely but I gave her freckles that just cover every inch of her. She is Sunkissed. He character isn't super different, she is still easily startled, but she knows what she believes and will fight for it no matter what.

And finally, Rose! The lovely Rosey! The flower child! Her nonspecific illness still definitely happened, but I like to think she has actually recovered. I do not know enough about most chronic illnesses to make any sort of specification on what she has so nameless headache disease it is! She struggled a lot as a kid, but now she's planning to start a non-profit to help kids who are going through hard times of their own. She definitely still has her down days, the fact that she nearly died so young is not something she is quick to forget. But she will do whatever she can to give other people hope, sinee she knows all too well what it feels like to be hopeless.

As for her design, she had a bucket of pink upturned on her. She did have to have her hair shaved as an affect of her illness but now it's growing back faster than ever. She gets it cut every time it gets past a certain length to donate it.

Luka is next!

[i-amusemyself]

PSA: Covid Effects and Complications

Alright fekkers this is how we’re doing public health announcements now that society is collapsing :))

This isn’t a post to tell you to avoid it, but to ask you to read the headings and make sure you make an informed decision if you wanna go out and get infected. If you do take risks, remember to avoid very young/old/pregnant/unwell/vulnerable people, test regularly and wear a mask (yes, they work).

Covid is Not Just A Respiratory Illness

COVID-19 routinely affects organs throughout the body, not just the respiratory system, including the brain, heart, liver, GI tract, endocrine system and skin (Gupta et al., 2020)

Covid can be seen as a blood clotting disorder masquerading as a respiratory illness. (Janardhan et al., 2020)

Covid Causes Brain Damage

Mild Covid infection shows significant orbitofrontal cortical atrophy (shrinking of parts of the brain) and cognitive decline (Crunfli et al., 2022)

Mild COVID-19 infection can cause impaired neurogenesis (nervous tissue growth), myelin and oligodendrocyte (nerve insulation) loss and increased neurotoxic molecules around the central nervous system (Fernández-Castañeda et al., 2022 *preprint)

MRIs of 401 patients done before and after Covid infection showed reduction in global brain size, grey matter loss (orbitofrontal cortex and parahippocampal gyrus) and cognitive decline. (Douaud et al., 2022)

COVID increases the risk of neurodegenerative disorders- Alzheimer’s disease risk is 3.5x increased; Parkinson’s disease risk is 2.6x increased; ischaemic stroke risk is 2.7x increased and intracerebral haemorrhage (bleeding in the brain) risk is 4.8x increased. (Zarifkar et al., 2022)

Risks of cognitive deficit, dementia, psychotic disorders, and epilepsy or seizures are increased for at least 2 years following Covid infection. (Taquet et al., 2022)

In 25% of mild Covid cases, visuocontructive cognitive deficits are seen, associated with changes in brain structure and metabolism. (de Paula et al., 2022)

Hospitalised Covid patients cognitive loss is similar on average to that sustained with 20 years ageing, and equivalent to losing 10 IQ points. (Hampshire et al., 2022)

People reportedly recovered from Covid show decreased intelligence and significant cognitive deficits. (Hampshire et al., 2021)

Covid Causes Alzheimer’s-like Pathology and Accelerates Existing Alzheimer’s Disease

Covid invades cognitive centers of the brain and induces Alzheimer’s-like neuropathology (Shen et al., 2022)

Covid is associated with accelerated progression of Alzheimer’s disease (aaic.alz.org) 

Covid produces proteins that form cytotoxic aggregates which damage neuronal cells, which parallels Alzheimer’s disease mechanism (Charnley et al., 2022)

COVID increases the risk of neurodegenerative disorders- Alzheimer’s disease risk is 3.5x increased; Parkinson’s disease risk is 2.6x increased; ischaemic stroke risk is 2.7x increased and intracerebral haemorrhage (bleeding in the brain) risk is 4.8x increased. (Zarifkar et al., 2022)

Risks of cognitive deficit, dementia, psychotic disorders, and epilepsy or seizures are increased for at least 2 years following Covid infection. (Taquet et al., 2022)

Covid Causes Kidney Damage

Mild Covid infection is associated with increased risk of kidney damage (Bowe et al., 2021)

Covid infection triples risk of End Stage Kidney Disease, requiring dialysis or kidney transplant (Bowe et al., 2021)

Covid Causes Diabetes

Covid patients have a 40% increased risk of being diagnosed with diabetes after first infection (Xie et al., 2022)

Covid infection is associated with an 81% increase in Diabetes incidence for 12+ weeks following infection (Rezel-Potts et al., 2022)

Mild Covid infections increase risk of Type 2 Diabetes development (Rathmann et al., 2022)

Covid infection leads to an average of 42% increased risk of Type 1 Diabetes across all ages. Risk increases most in pediatric patients- by 584%. (Quedan et al., 2022)

Covid Causes Cardiovascular Illness

Covid infection, even when mild, substantially increases risk of cardiovascular illness up to at least 1 year later (Xie et al., 2022)

Capillary density (how many small blood vessels are present) is reduced by 41% in sufferers of Long Covid 18 months after Covid infection (Osiaevi et al., 2022)

Acute Covid infection results in 6x increase in cardiovascular diagnosis; 11x increase in pulmonary embolism (blood clot in lung); 6x increase in atrial arrhythmias (abnormal heartbeat); 5x increase in venous thromboses (blood clot in vein). (Rezel-Potts et al., 2022)

A spike protein found on Covid-19 virus particles uses the body’s immune response to damage and inflame heart muscle cells. (heart.org)

People with Covid exhibited increased risks and 12-month burdens of incident cardiovascular diseases, including cerebrovascular disorders, dysrhythmias, inflammatory heart disease, ischemic heart disease, heart failure, thromboembolic disease and other cardiac disorders. Risk were evident even in those without prior cardiovascular disease. (Xie et al., 2022)

Risk of stroke more than doubles even with mild or asymptomatic Covid infection. Median time of stroke is 2 months after Covid diagnosis. (Tu et al., 2021)

Covid infection increases heart attack risk by 3-8x and stroke risk by 3-6x (Katsoularis et al., 2021)

Covid infection increases risk of deep vein thrombosis, pulmonary embolism and bleeding in the months following acute illness (Katsoularis et al., 2022)

Long Covid is associated with presence of microclots throughout the body. (Pretorius et al., 2021)

Long Covid patients may face an increased risk of abnormal blood clotting. (uclh.nhs.uk)

Covid Accelerates Biological Ageing

Accelerated biological ageing is seen in Covid infection (Cao et al., 2022)

Covid Damages the Immune System

Covid causes T-cell exhaustion, meaning the immune system is less able to fight off pathogens (Loretelli et al., 2021)

Previous infection with earlier SARS2 strains can lead to impaired immune responses to Omicron (Reynolds et al., 2022)

Covid infects and kills T-lymphocytes (key cells of the immune system), causing low T-lymphocyte counts 1(Guan et al., 2020), 2(Shen et al., 2022)

Long Covid patients show reactivation of latent Epstein-Barr (can cause MS) and Varicella Zoster (can cause shingles and Ramsey Hunt syndrome) viruses (Klein et al., 2022 *preprint)

2.8% of Long Covid patients reported Varicella Zoster Virus reactivation, leading to shingles, following Covid infection. Primary risk factors for VZV reactivation are age and immunodeficiency. (Davis et al., 2021)

Covid infection causes immunodefiency in recovered patients by downregulating a specific protein on B Cells (a type of immune cell). (Jing et al., 2021)

Covid Causes the Body to Attack Itself (Autoimmunity)

Covid causes production of autoantibodies which target the immune system, vascular cells, coagulation factors and platelets, connective tissue, and organ systems, including lung, the central nervous system compartment, skin, gastrointestinal tract and other tissues. (Wang et al., 2021)

Asymptomatic Covid infection can lead to severe Ulcerative Colitis (an inflammatory bowel disease). (Mora et al., 2022)

Mild Covid infection can produce significant levels of autoantibodies for 7+ months. (Bhadelia et al., 2021)

Covid infection precedes new appearance of autoimmune and inflammatory diseases. (Galleoti and Bayry, 2020)

Covid infection linked to development of vasculitis, arthritis, lupus and sarcoidosis. (Gracia-Ramos et al., 2021)

Autoantibodies linked to Lupus, Rheumatoid Arthritis, Guillain-Barré syndrome, immune thrombocytopaenia and autoimmune haemolytic anaemia found in patients following Covid infection. (Moody et al., 2021)

In a group of non-hospitalised healthcare workers with Covid, 54% tested positive for autoantibodies- these targeted skin, smooth muscle, neutrophils (a type of white blood cell of the immune system) and gastric parietal cells (cells in the gut). (Richter et al., 2021)

Covid May Affect Both Male and Female Fertility

COVID-19 virus can be found and continues to replicate in the testes even after death (Costa et al., 2022 *preprint)

COVID-19 infects the testes and damages spermatogenesis (sperm production) (Ma et al., 2020)

Covid virus particles found in penis tissue of men infected 6-8 months earlier, who later experienced erectile dysfunction (Kresch et al., 2021)

Study shows total sperm number lower in men infected with Covid at 3 month follow up (Best et al., 2021)

Testes of Covid patients show significant seminiferous tubular injury and reduced Leydig cells- cells that produce testosterone. (Yang et al., 2020)

11 of 26 (42%) men with mild/moderate Covid infection showed incidental (asymptomatic) epididymitis on Doppler ultrasound - a condition that can cause infertility (Carneiro et al., 2021)

A case of premature ovarian failure due to Covid infection (Madaan et al., 2021)

Another case of premature ovarian insufficiency in a 34-year-old following Covid infection (Wilkins and Al-Inizi, 2021)

Ovarian injury, including declined ovarian reserve and reproductive endocrine disorder, can be observed in a study of women in China infected with Covid. (Ding et al., 2021)

Study finds men who had seemingly fully recovered from Covid infection developed decreased sperm count and motility and abnormally shaped sperm. (Ghosh et al., 2022)

Covid Causes Erectile Dysfunction

Covid virus particles found in penis tissue of men infected 6-8 months earlier, who later experienced erectile dysfunction (Kresch et al., 2021)

A Long Covid survey found 15% of men reported sexual dysfunction and 3% reported a decrease in genital size. (Davis et al., 2021)

Prevalence of erectile dysfunction 3x as common in men after Covid infection (28% vs 9% in controls) (Sansone et al., 2021)

Prevalence of erectile dysfunction in Thai men reported as 65% following Covid infection (Harirugsa et al., 2021)

Another study showing risk of erectile dysfunction triples following Covid infection. (Katz et al., 2021)

Study finds that Covid infection leads to 6-fold increased risk of erectile dysfunction, which worsens men’s mental health. (Hsieh et al., 2022)

Covid Causes Autonomic Nervous System Dysfunction

30% of 4000 Long Covid patients met the criteria for a diagnosis of Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome, a type of dysautonomia (Davis et al., 2021)

Dysautonomia (autonomic nervous system dysfunction) may be responsible for fatigue and hypoxia in Long Covid patients. (Barizien et al., 2021)

Covid infection frequently causes abnormalities in autonomic nervous system tests, as well as worsening pre-existing dysfunction. Abnormalities included orthostatic intolerance, fainting, heachaches, burning pains, excessive sweating and lightheadedness. (Shouman et al., 2021)

67% of Long Covid patients have moderate-to-severe autonomic dysfunction, regardless of severity of initial Covid infection. (Larsen et al., 2022 *preprint)

Covid infection could result in gastric dysmotility and paralysis (stomach and intestines become unable to move food through). (Coles et al., 2022)

Covid Can Seriously Harm Children

SARS2 causes increased hospital admissions, mortality rate and absolute numbers of deaths in children, compared to Influenza (Shein et al., 2022)

Asymptomatic infection in children can lead to a serious, multiorgan hyperinflammatory syndrome (Riphagen et al., 2020)

An epidemic of hepatitis in healthy children could be linked to previous COVID-19 infection (science.org)

Pulmonary dysfunction persists even in children considered to be recovered from Covid (Heiss et al., 2022 *preprint)

Covid leads to a 3x increased risk of psychotic disorders in children (Taquet et al., 2022)

Children are twice as likely to develop epilepsy or seizures following Covid infection, compared to following other respiratory infections (Taquet et al., 2022)

Children are at an increased risk of epilepsy, encephalitis, nerve, nerve root and plexus disorders up to at least 2 years after Covid infection (Taquet et al., 2022)

Intracranial (brain) bacterial infections have increased during the Covid pandemic, occuring during or just after Covid infection. One Michigan children’s hospital reports a 236% increase. (Khuon et al., 2022)

235,000 children in England have Long Covid symptoms lasting 12+ weeks that affect their daily life (ONS.gov.uk)

21% of Year 13 pupils missed 4+ weeks of school due to Covid for the 21/22 academic year in England (suttontrust.com)

Children and teens who’ve had Covid are at greater risk for blood clots, heart problems, kidney failure, and Type 1 diabetes (Kompaniyets et al., 2022)

5.2 million children have lost a parent or caregiver to Covid infection. (Unwin et al., 2022)

Covid infection leads to an average of 42% increased risk of Type 1 Diabetes across all ages. Risk increases most in pediatric patients- by 584%. (Quedan et al., 2022)

Covid Can Endanger Pregnancy and the Growing Baby

Covid infection during pregnancy increases risk of preterm delivery (Edlow et al., 2022)

Covid infection at delivery increases risk of stillbirth (DeSisto et al., 2021)

Covid infection during pregnancy increases risk of neurodevelopmental disorder diagnosis in babies by 2.17x during first year of life (Edlow et al., 2022)

Risk of severe Covid infection is higher in pregnant women. (Rad et al., 2021)

Newborns born to mothers who had recovered from Covid 10+ weeks prior to birth show viral mRNA and proteins in their stool and signs of intestinal inflammation. (Jin et al., 2022)

Covid infection destroys the placenta, starving the baby of oxygen, resulting in increased risks of stillbirth and neonatal deaths. (Schwartz et al., 2022)

Covid Can Lead to Development of New Allergies

Mast cell activation syndrome (MCAS) may be triggered by Covid infection, resulting in new allergies and risk of anaphylaxis. (Afrin et al., 2020)

Mast cell activation symptoms are increased in Long Covid (Weinstock et al., 2021)

Covid Worsens Mental and Psychological Health

Covid diagnosis associated with increased risk of mental health diagnosis and neurocognitive decline (Xie et al., 2022)

Risks of cognitive deficit, dementia, psychotic disorders, and epilepsy or seizures are increased for at least 2 years following Covid infection. (Taquet et al., 2022)

Covid Reinfection is Common and Increasingly Detrimental to Health

Reinfection with Covid increases risk of hospitalization, death and long covid by more each time 1(Al-Aly et al., 2022 *preprint), 2(World Health Organisation)

Covid reinfections are common. Mean time between 1st and 2nd infection is 79 days, and between 2nd and 3rd infection is 65 days. (Al-Aly et al., 2022 *preprint)

Covid reinfection is possible as soon as 19 days after initial infection. (Ren et al., 2022)

Long Covid is Common, Serious and Potentially Disabling

1 in 5 (20-30%) develop a new health condition following Covid infection (Bull-Otterson et al. 2022)

Just below 1 in 10 (9.3%) triple vaccinated people are not recovered 4-8 weeks after Omicron infection in the UK (ONS.gov.uk)

1 in 7 (14%) of 11-18 year olds have symptoms 15 weeks after COVID-19 infection (Stephenson et al., 2021)

Long Covid causes disability and unemployment (theguardian.com)

Two million days of healthcare staff absences were lost to Long Covid during the first 18 months of the pandemic in England (the guardian.com)

On average, healthcare staff absent with Long Covid are off for more than 80 days in England (theguardian.com)

A US Long Covid group reports that 44% of those affected are out of work (longhauler-advocacy.org)

235,000 children in England have Long Covid symptoms lasting 12+ weeks that affect their daily life (ONS.gov.uk)

21% of Year 13 pupils missed 4+ weeks of school due to Covid for the 21/22 academic year in England (suttontrust.com)

The proportion of people unemployed and not seeking work due to Long Covid has doubled in the past year in the UK (theguardian.com)

Long Covid survey of nearly 4000 finds 45% required a reduced work schedule and 22% could not work due to illness (Davis et al., 2021)

88% of Long Covid sufferers experience cognitive dysfunction and memory problems (Davis et al., 2021)

80,000 people estimated to have left employment due to Long Covid by March 2022 in UK (Reuschke and Houston, 2022)

2.9 million people of working age in the UK have had, or currently have, Long Covid (Reuschke and Houston, 2022)

Long Covid has over 200 symptoms spanning 10 organ systems. (Davis et al., 2021)

Graph via @davidsteadson on Twitter

Vaccination Does Not Fully Prevent Long Covid

16% of Covid infections lead to Long Covid after 3 vaccinations (Azzolini et al., 2022)

Just below 1 in 10 (9.3%) triple vaccinated people are not recovered 4-8 weeks after Omicron infection in the UK (ONS.gov.uk)

Vaccination only reduces risk of Long Covid by 15%. (Al-Aly et al., 2022)

Covid Persists in the Body after Initial Infection

Covid can persist throughout the body and brain even following mild/asymptomatic infections, for at least 230 days (Chertow et al., 2021 *preprint)

COVID-19 can persist within the gut for at least 7 months after infection 1(Gaebler et al., 2021), 2(Natarajan et al., 2022)

Residual COVID-19 virus has been found in the appendix and breast tissue, 175- and 462-days post-infection, respectively (Goh et al., 2022 *preprint)

COVID-19 virus can persist in the eyes after initial infection (Armstrong et al., 2021)

COVID-19 virus can be found and continues to replicate in the testes even after death (Costa et al., 2022 *preprint)

Covid virus particles found in penis tissue of men infected 6-8 months earlier, who later experienced erectile dysfunction (Kresch et al., 2021)

Viral Persistence Can Cause Serious Illness Many Years Later

We do not know the long term effects of Covid Infection and Persistence.

Persistent Hepatitis C infection increases risk of Hepatocellular carcinoma (liver cancer) (Mitchell et al., 2015)

Persistent Human Papillomavirus (HPV) infection causes cervical cancer (Sudenga et al., 2013)

Persistent HIV infection leads to immunodeficiency and AIDS (Pauza, 1988)

Persistence of Epstein Barr Virus (EBV) can cause development of multiple sclerosis (Ruprecht, 2020)

Persistence of varicella zoster virus (VZV), which causes chickenpox, can result in shingles and Ramsey Hunt Syndrome (Gershon et al., 2015)

These effects of Covid are not easy to learn about, but it is essential that people know the risks. This is not fearmongering- it is not “what if”s and “maybe”s- these are events that are happening right now, around the world.

[jeankluv]

Safe and sound || Trafalgar Law x reader

Paring: Trafalgar Law x reader

Words: 1k

Summary: Just imagine that while fighting the Blackbeard pirates, you have an encounter with Doc Q and knowing how important you are for your captain, he uses his devil fruit on you, giving you the Amber Lead Syndrome.

Warnings: angst, fluff, spoilers for the manga of one piece, happy ending

When Law saw the white spots appear on your skin, he stood there, petrified, scared and remembering what you were going to suffer if he didn’t act with time.

It was almost impossible for the Heart Pirates to defeat the Blackbeard pirates, so Law told them to retire as soon as possible. He took you away, as fast and as far as he could, you needed to be treated immediately or else… he closed his eyes, no he couldn’t lost you, not the same way as he lost his parents and Lami, he had to save you, he was a skilled doctor and he knew about the disease, he could do it.

You held tightly into Law, you were feeling so weak and everything was starting to fade away, it seemed like your eyes couldn’t stay open.

“Law…” You said, almost as a whisper, you didn’t know if he actually heard you.

You heard him calling you, telling you to stay awake until he was able to have surgery and take away whatever you have in your body. You were really trying to stay away, like he said, but your whole body was giving up.

Law rushed as fast as he could to the Polar Tang, the crew was already getting ready to escape. Once in the submarine, he told Bepo to take his place because he was going to be in the operation room. He trusted his crew enough to know that they were going to be able to escape everyone in one piece.

He closed the door behind him and put you on the operation table, trying not to break you, you looked so fragile in that moment. He created a room to start with the operation, just the way he did all those years ago with his body.

Hours passed by and Law was still in the operations room taking all the Amber Lead out of your body. The crew was already far away from the Blackbeard pirates, so now the crew was patiently waiting for his captain to come out and give them some good news. Law left the room, tired after spending hours treating but fortunately all the Amber Lead was out of your body and now you only needed to rest.

“Captain!” Bepo approached him and asked him how you were. Law simply said you needed rest to fully recover.

“Are any of you injured?” The captain asked, looking at the polar bear.

“No captain! But you should treat your injuries!”

Law looked at himself for the first time and he saw the traces of dried blood on his clothes, he just nodded and treated his injuries. He silently cursed himself as he did so, how could he have let his guard down like he did? Such a fruit was a doctor's worst nightmare. He nearly lost you and the entire crew for not being more careful.

Once his injuries were treated he went back to the room where you were resting, he sat beside and held your hand. You looked so peaceful, all the pain was finally gone and he couldn’t be happier. Law started to feel his emotions breaking out, it’s been years since he cried but now all those emotions were coming out because just like in the past he almost lost another dear person to him.

“Don’t cry…” You opened your eyes and smiled at him. Law looked at you, with relief and your name came out his mouth like a whisper. “What happened to me?” You asked him.

“That… that Blackbeard crew member infected you with a deadly disease…” He paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. “But I… I took it out, you are okay, you are safe.” He said and rested his forehead on the joined hands of both.

“Thank you Law.” You ran your fingers through his hair. “You are the best doctor, so I’m sure you knew how to handle it.”

He stayed silent, he never spoke about his life before meeting the Donquixote family, you only knew he lost his parents and sister but you didn’t know how they died, he never talked about them, or about his hometown and even less about the real reason why Corazon risked so much.

“It was my fault…” You tried to speak but Law kept talking, without looking at you. “I don’t know how they knew about the Amber Lead, but they knew that would break me. It was my fault.” He kept repeating.

“Law it’s not your fault. Stop blaming yourself, please.” You tried to console him.

“There is something you should know. Something about my past before the Donquixote family, the reason behind Corazon helping me…” He looked at your eyes, those golden eyes you love so much.

Law started talking about his parents, his little sister Lami and about her hometown, Flevance. Something on your brain clicked in your head, you heard about Flevance before, it was a city in the North Blue, a city that was destroyed by a deadly disease. Law told you everything, how her sister got sick, how their parents never stop searching for a cure and how the world government killed everyone and how he hid under the dead bodies of his classmates. He then told you how Corazon, did everything to find a cure for him, until he found the Op Op no mi and how the same night, he thought he was going to be able to start living happily with Corazon, he lost the only person he had. You held him close to you, Law was starting to shake and you were starting to tear up.

“I’m so sorry…” You whispered. “You were so brave and strong.”

“When they infected you with it… I thought, I thought everything was going to happen again… I thought I was going to lose you the same way I did with them.”

“But you didn’t Law, you took care of me, you protected me, saved me.” You said kissing his head. “Thank you for telling me this.”

“I will always protect you. I will keep you safe and sound, always.” He held you close to him.

You both stayed there holding each other, letting the hours pass and just listening to each other's breath and heart beats. Until you both fell asleep.

[arlana-likes-to-write]

Second Chance - Chapter 6

Masterlist

Warning: mention of death, sickness, mention of the Red Room trauma, lots and lots of teasing, self-doubt, Yelena needs a hug

Word Count: 3.1k

Relationships: Yelena x reader, Natasha x reader (platonic), Wanda x reader (platonic)

Note: a lot of this chapter is based on my own personal experience with the disease. As I've learned chemotherapy effects everyone very differently. The type of chemo the reader is on is based on her type of cancer but the treatment plan may not be 100% accurate.

“Come on,” you said, peeling the skin off the banana as you followed Natasha and Wanda from the training room to the common area. The duo just completed training sessions and you wanted them to go on a small adventure with you. You could go alone but that wasn’t fun. “It will be a quick trip to Central Park,” you threw the banana peel into the trash.

“I don’t think the words quick and Central Park can be in the same sentence,” Natasha mumbled, filling a glass of water.

“Besides,” Wanda said. “Shouldn’t you be taking it easy?” You huffed angrily and chewed on the last piece of your banana. “You’ve had a busy morning,” she added quickly. But you needed to have a busy morning before the steroids left your system and the aftermath was not pretty. So, you woke up and made blueberry waffles with vanilla protein powder and a side of fruit. You played fairy princesses with Morgan, sat with Tony in his lap to learn about his arc reactors, and listened on a conference call with Pepper. You needed to keep your mind and body moving. All you wanted to do was see Central Park in the winter and take pictures so you could draw them later. You loved the seasons; fall was your favorite. The colors, the crisp air, and everything apple flavored.

“Please,” you pleaded. “I don’t want to go alone.” The duo looked at each other, having a silent conversation.

“What are you whining about, Easton?” The blonde appeared and grabbed an orange from the counter top.

“First, rude. I wasn’t whining,” she chuckled. The smell of citrus began to fill the air as she peeled the orange. “Second, I want to go to Central Park but no one will go with me.” Okay, maybe you whining a little bit.

“I’ll go with you,”

“Sestra,” Natasha warned but she waved her off.

“Are you serious?” You questioned.

“Yeah,” the blonde shrugged. “I have nothing going on and Kate, America, and Peter aren’t going to be back until tonight.” Ooh. That was exciting. You couldn’t wait to meet the other people that lived on your floor.

“Amazing. I’ll go get ready.” Walking around New York in March wearing shorts and a T-shirt was not going to cut it. You took off in the direction of your floor. Faintly hearing Wanda calling after you to dress warm.

*

Yelena watched you run off towards the elevator, acting like an excited child who was let loose in a candy store. She figured you and Peter would get along well. “Ouch,” she said as Natasha hit her on the back of the head when the metal doors closed. “That hurt.” A pout formed on her lips. “What was that for?”

“She needs to take it easy,” the redhead said. Yelena rolled her eyes.

“You are acting like we are about to climb Mount Everest. She will be fine. I’ll keep an eye on her,” she threw the pieces of the skin from her orange away. “I read that it’s good to keep cancer patients moving if they have the energy for it.” It was like she said something in a language that Wanda or her sister didn’t understand. She looked at both of them. “Did I say something wrong?” Wanda recovered quickly.

“No,” she rushed out. Yelena raised an eyebrow in question. “It’s just,” her voice trailed off. “You researched on how to help her.”

“Yeah,” the blonde simply said. “I figured she would be here for a while so why not figure out ways to help,” she wasn’t sure if she liked the way Natasha was looking at her. It was soft. “You guys are acting weird. I’m going to get ready.”

‘It was normal, completely normal,’ that was the mantra Yelena repeated in her head. Someone that was living in her home was sick so of course she looked up how to help them. It meant nothing. Right?

*

“For you,” you handed the blonde a hot chocolate you bought from a pop-up stand next to the park. She took it with a smile that didn’t quite reach her green eyes. During the entire drive to Central Park, she was quiet as if she was a million miles away, lost in her world. You wanted to ask if she was okay but the Black Widow didn’t seem like the sharing type.

“So,” she said. “Where to?” You shrugged, sipping on the sweet drink. It wasn’t abnormally cold. The weather app said the high was 52 and the low was 36, right now it was 49 but you loved hot chocolate. It would be summer, a high of 92, and still, you craved the sugary drink.

“Not sure. I just want to walk around and take pictures.” She nodded and you ventured into Central Park with the Black Widow by your side. Few words were exchanged but the silence wasn’t awkward. Normally, you were the type of person who hated it when it was quiet. But you found the silence to be calm and peaceful. She let you take pictures of whatever you wanted, not huffing when you stopped for the millionth time. You even snapped a quick picture of her when a cute German shepherd puppy walked over to her. It perfectly captured the way her face lit up.

Soon the ache in your bones began to rear its ugly head and you were getting tired. Maybe you should have listened to Wanda and Natasha. The blonde knew there was a change. You started to slow down and you weren’t taking as many pictures. “Why don’t we sit down at the bench before we head back?”

“I’m fine,” you weren’t sure if you said that to reassure her or yourself.

“Well I’m not, you dragged me all around this park and I need a break. So we are sitting,” you knew what she was doing, making it appear that she needed a break so you wouldn’t have to admit it. There was a nagging voice in your head for you to call her out on it or tell her you weren’t weak. Instead, you followed her to the bench. A small sigh of relief escaped your lips when you sat down. The bench was facing a family, two mothers were watching their daughters being chased by a dog. There was enough snow on the ground that made for a soft landing when one of the girls fell. You glanced at the Russian, who was watching the same scene you were. Again there was a far-off look in her eyes. You knew to an extent the horrors she, Natasha, and hundreds of girls went through. It was part of the files that Natasha leaked. You spent hours and hours combing through everything. The blonde looked away and became interested in the rings she was wearing.

“How are your hands not cold?” You asked breaking the silence.

“I’m Russian. I don’t get cold,” you rolled your eyes.

“That was awful,” you watched as she fought the smile that crept onto her face. You leaned back on the bench, your arms stretched on the back of the seat. You wondered why people hated winter. Maybe it was due to the sun not being out. The way life seemed to slow down and the snowy landscapes looked sterile and lifeless. The vegetation changed too. The lush green, yellow, and red leaves that once covered the trees were gone - left empty branches and leaving trees that looked like skeletons. Those people saw winter as death.

But you saw it as a rest, a white sheet for a new start. A time for nature to do some maintenance. Death was final, you knew it better than anyone. Winter was moving, only less subtle. With spring around the corner, there was a rebirth and everyone enjoyed all of winter’s handwork. “What are you thinking about?” She asked. When you looked at her, she was already staring at you.

“Death actually,” her expression didn’t falter but her green eyes gave her away. She wasn’t expecting that. “I think about it a lot nowadays. Where do you think we go after this? Will we see the pearly white gates?” Yelena chuckled, looking forward. You didn’t miss the bitterness in her voice.

“I don’t think there is a heaven or hell,” she admitted. “I just hope whatever is next is kinder.”

“For you or everyone?” You asked. She was quiet again as she thought about your question. You were a little afraid you overstepped but the blonde sighed.

“A select people,” she said. “I want the afterlife to be kind to those who didn’t get a kind life this time around. They deserve a second chance.” You noticed she left herself out of that, not believing she deserved a happy ending in this life or the next.

“Do you want to head back to the tower?” There was a chill running down your spine and you weren’t sure if it was from the cold air or the conversation. Wordlessly, she stood up and offered her hand for assistance. You took it and stopped the gasp that almost left your lips. She was right. Even through your gloved hand, you felt her warmth. For a split second, you wondered what it would be like to have her skin against yours. Immediately, you chased that thought away. Your friend deserved a second chance at love, life, and happiness due to how cruel the world was to her. That second chance couldn’t be with you.

*

You were not hungry as you sat at the counter top while everyone was at the table. Wanda made a soup, you were pretty sure it was squash but the smell and the little you had was making your stomach twist. Huffing, you pushed the bowl away and ate some of the crackers the witch gave you. “You okay, kid?” Steve asked, getting his second bowl. Right now you envied the super soldier serum that ran through his veins.

“Yeah,” you forced a smile. “Just not hungry.” He frowned at that. “I’m gonna take this to my room if anyone asks where I went, okay?”

“Of course, if you need anything let me know,” you nodded, too tired to give him. A verbal response, and took the barely touched soup to your room.

You placed it in your fridge and made a beeline to the couch. God, you hated feeling like this. All the energy you once had was slowly leaving and exhaustion plus an ache in your bones was replacing it. Turning on a movie you’ve seen before and pulling a blanket over your body, you were quick to fall asleep.

“Miss. Easton,” Friday’s voice woke you up. It took a second for you to register where you were and who was talking to you. Once your brain wasn’t clouded with sleep you hummed. “Miss. Belova is at your door. It appears that Miss. Bishop, Miss. Chavez and Mr. Parker have returned from their mission.” You nodded, sitting up and listening to your bones crack.

“Tell her she can come in,” the door opened and you glanced at it. Your place hasn’t changed much since the last time she was here. The plan was to finish unpacking after this week of treatment, with some help from the team. “Hey Belova,” you remembered the AI calling her that when she came to help you. The blonde rolled her eyes at the use of her last name. “What’s up?”

“We are having a small get-together,” she said. “I wanted to see if you wanted to join. Buttt,” she sat down next to you. “You kind of look like shit.” You gasped.

“Wow, you really know how to make a girl feel special,” you punched her arm, not hard enough but she faked that it did. But her question was still left unanswered, did you want to join them? A part of you wanted to hang out with people around your age. However, you weren’t sure how fun you were going to be.

“If you aren’t feeling up to it, you can meet them tomorrow,” her voice was softer. It made you look at her. There was something in her green eyes but it was gone too quick for you to decode. Maybe you imagined it.

“No, it’s okay,” you sighed. “Just give me a second.” It was a little more than a second as you went into your bathroom. The cold water you splashed on your face worked to wake you up. You brushed your teeth, put deodorant on, and placed the beanie on your head. When you returned, the blonde was still sitting on the couch. “You coming?” You asked. She got up quickly and walked over to the door to open it. You were used to the quiet. Every time you stepped out of your room, there was no one else around. This time it was different. There was music playing softly and laughter, a lot of it. It made you smile.

“Hey idiots,” the blonde called out. The group turned to look at you and one of them fumbled with his phone to turn down the music. “This is Y/n, Stark’s kid. That’s Kate, America, and Peter; they live on this floor. MJ and Ned like to think they live here.” You giggled as the girl with long curly hair rolled her eyes and flipped the Black Widow off.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Kate said. The group was sitting on the floor with their backs resting on the couch; beers and a deck of cards on the floor. Kate’s arm was around America’s shoulder and she gestured to the empty spot next to her with the beer she was drinking. You took the silent confirmation to join the circle. The Black Widow sat down next to you and accepted a beer from Ned. He offered you one but you declined. You weren’t much of a drinker per-diagnosis and mixing alcohol and cancer treatment wasn’t ideal. Plus, there was no way MJ, Peter, and Ned were legal but if one of them was risking their life to keep the world safe, drinking wasn’t bad.

“So,” Peter said, taking the deck of cards from the middle and began to shuffle them. “How’s living in the tower?”

“Good,” you answered. “Everyone has been nice. Just,” you paused. “It’s a little weird.”

“Weird?” America questioned. “How so?” You saw the Black Widow shift next to you, putting her knee up and resting her arm on top.

“Yeah,” you shrugged. “I guess I’ve gotten used to being alone.” You had friends, some of whom you considered family. But once your mom died, you preferred being alone.

“Well,” MJ said, slowly. “I’ve learned that here it’s impossible to be alone.”

*

Yelena knew you were getting tired. She saw it on the way you curled up under the blanket Ned got for you. You stayed quiet during the conversation and opted out of the silly games Peter wanted to play. Soon the Black Widow felt your head fall against her shoulder and your body curled up against hers, no doubt trying to steal some of her warmth. Just by sitting next to you, Yelena could feel how cold you were.

Deep down, she thanked all her years of training as she was able to keep her body from jumping. Her face rained static, trying not to portray the way her heart was beating in her chest. The heat that was threatening to grow across her cheeks. Kate let out a low whistle. “Looks like someone has a new cuddle buddy,” the archer teased. The blonde sent daggers with her to her friend.

“Awe stop babe,” America said, playfully hitting her girlfriend on the chest. “We are witnessing little Lena’s heart grow three sizes.” The group tried to stop themselves from laughing which ended up in Peter snorting. Yelena felt her ears turning a slight pink from being the center of the teasing, something she wasn’t used to. It was payback from the constant teasing she started when America and Kate refused to accept their feelings for one another. But her jaw clenched.

“If any of you, suki (bitches), wake her up. I will kill you.” She threatened but her friends didn’t take her threat seriously. They simply rolled their eyes and continued with the conversation. Yelena knew you were tired when she walked into your room. There was a selfish reason that she asked you to join them when she knew you needed rest. She enjoyed her time at the park, more than she thought she would. When you didn’t join the team for dinner, she wanted to spend a little more time with you. Because you were friends. Friends that liked to spend time together. Just friends.

It was a mistake though. Alone she could mask the way her body reacted to you. There was no hiding it in front of them. This group had a unique way to break down every wall she learned how to put up.

A soft groan left her lips and the conversation around you stopped. Your eyes fluttered open and Yelena saw the confusion in your eyes morph to realization then panic. “Shit,” you said, scrambling away from her and creating a healthy amount of distance between you and her. Yelena had to stop the frown forming on her face. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“It’s okay,” she reassured you and it was. However, she was a tad worried that you could hear her heart pounding. “I guess you needed the sleep.” You nodded, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “Thank you for this,” you said to the group. “We’ll have to do this again.”

“Totally,” Peter smiled as you stood up.

“Welcome to the floor,” America added. A chorus of good nights followed you to your room. The Black Widow couldn’t help but watch you walk away. Kate chuckled.

“You got it bad, Belova.” The Russian took a pillow from the couch and threw it at the archer. Unfortunately, Kate caught the pillow, stuck her tongue out at her, and placed the pillow behind her head.

“Don’t listen to her,” America smiled. “Besides, she’s got it just as bad.” Yelena almost choked on the beer she was drinking. There was no way. You had more important things to worry about than deal with whatever Yelena was feeling. Besides, who would want her? She was a monster, a killer, someone undeserving of love and a happy ending.

_

Taglist: @likemick, @averagetmblrusser, @@wandaromamoff69,

[isa-ah]

so heres my pitch for what happens before dimple shows up in the icmhwau:

teruki and mob are hanging out in the middle of one of black vinegars soccer fields. its after school and the sky is heavy and grey, but it hasnt started to rain just yet. mob snuck a milk carton on his way out so he could come see one of the stray cats that sometimes wander onto the school grounds. this one he knows from sitting by for terukis soccer practice over the last few months.

while hes bent down, making soft sounds and petting it, teruki is standing behind him, hands jammed in his pockets and sneering bc he doesnt do. exactly great. not being the center of attention. hes tapping his toe and waiting for mob to get it over with so they can go when theres this big crack of thunder overhead and the cat goes skittering off toward the trees- just as the sky opens up and theres one of those heavy late spring downpours.

teruki is taken offguard, bracing for the rain, when he realizes hes still stood there dry. mobs got a hand up, having thrown a barrier over them reflexively, and humming his disappointment. he stands, dusting his knees off, and when he turns around teruki tries to look like he hasnt just been standing there watching the whole time.

"can we go now?" rude. but no more rude than he usually is, so mob doesnt really mind. he hums his affirmation but pauses, and then shakes his head. teruki frowns and turns fully toward him in response.

mob kinda stands there, hands flexing and unflexing cause hes really not good at putting things into words in this au. it drags on long enough that teruki is just starting to pull away with a scoff when he is stopped cold like he took a stone to the head.

"teru."

that gets his attention in a big way that makes his stomach roil. mobs never addressed him like this before- maybe a soft hanazawa-kun when he needed to, but the nickname cuts straight to the core and he is on guard immediately.

"i.. was thinking."

and now he is feeling outright defensive. a thousand scenarios playing out right like is mob sick of this? is this going to be bad news? is he trying to sugar coat it? and then, worst case scenario; mob steps forward, and starts to reach for him. his hands are small and bruised, little scars and bandages wrapped around his fingers. teruki put those there, and it feels like an intimacy too sacred and mortifying to be broached.

so teruki panics.

"DONT TOUCH ME!" slapping his hands aside. "you just laid hands on that disgusting vermin, its probably diseased."

and mob stands there looking so shocked teruki feels a thrill of success. derailed. whatever was about to happen has been successfully derailed. he preens, starting to turn to pull the lead before mob can recover, but mob speaks before he can get very far.

"cats are actually very good at grooming." tone flat, dry. it gets under terukis skin. mob never objects.

"yeah right. like im going to hear about hygiene from a brute like you." baseless, and mean, the kind of cutting comment he throws around easy but it seems to catch mob off guard this time.

hes frowning, brows turned down and his hair ruffled by a wind that cant reach them through his barrier. teruki sneers and mob shoves him, hands splayed into his ribs in frustrated defiance. teruki scoffs and pushes him tumbling back onto his ass, standing over him.

& its just instinct tbh, at this point, learned experience from watching teruki get backed into corners with his mouth, when mob mutters, "youre mean." and when teruki looks surprised, he continues. "youre a very mean person."

which teruki is taken aback by. "oh, as if! you dont have a high horse, not when youre just some commoner who happens to listen to instruction better than the rest of them. like you havent picked plenty of your own fights, too." that sort of thing. "its embarrassing that youd even try to come after me when youre just some- some nobody."

& its clearly reaching its mark bc as teruki talks, mobs curling his fingers into the grass and bits of dirt and torn blades are starting to curl up into the stagnant, humid air around them. his hairs started to lift and he looks unhappy.

"oh dont look so surprised. you knew what this was. and beyond that- you dont scare me, kageyama. i could kick your ass and still-"

hes cut off by this dizzying woosh, this spike of energy that makes his head spin, and the vertigo only intensifies as he looks around and realizes the barrier is gone; its not that the rain isnt landing on them, its that the rain isnt landing at all.

mob was definitely not radiating unadulterated power like this last time. he may have.. miscalculated his approach.

& you can imagine it from there. teruki panics and lashes out first, which pushes mob over the edge and suddenly theyre fighting and its UGLY. it makes their initial fight look like a joke. it makes the soccer field look like a battleground. it knocks teru half conscious, held by the throat in mobs sweaty, burning grip with blood dripping into his eyes when hes got an abrupt sense of nausea and something eye piercingly green shoots out his nose with an unceremonious, "oh jesus, kid."

im not like, a writer, but you get the idea. fill it in to be better than i could do it LOLOL mob tried to finally put into words, somewhat, what he feels about teruki, which made teruki FREAK because he doesnt know how to be vulnerable like that, he lashes out at mob, mob lashes out back, the autistic immovable object vs the unstoppable adhd force leading into an rsd death spiral. messy. awful. mob knocks the snot (dimple) out of him lololol