#just like. pain and symptom management i would really appreciate it

[fulgurbugs]

sorry this is gonna be a tmi and gross period post but idk what to do anymore so i’m gonna vent online

ok so my periods are famously inconsistent and unpredictable. most recently what ended up happening was i missed mine for like, months before it came back with a vengeance and i had one that lasted over a month long. this one was also extremely heavy towards the end, as well as like. idk how to describe this. very fleshy. chunky. however there were no cramps or pain associated with it, mostly just i was spending a fortune on pads and tampons (i had to double up to be safe) while this was ongoing i attempted to look for a gyno in my area, but i would only be able to get an appointment after i moved back to college with at minimum a few weeks wait. so i ended up not making an appointment because it was starting to wind down and i ended up getting super busy with school starting again. i still brought it up to my doctor before this and eventually had an appointment where i managed to sneak in on a weekend i could come home with my gp where she prescribed pill birth control which i started taking as directed not very long ago. but, a few days after i started taking it my period started again, extremely heavy, and this time, painful. it’s been about 4 days of extremely heavy blood flow and cramps, and i haven’t been able to focus on my school at all or go anywhere, i just want to lie in bed and rot. im bleeding through supers in under an hour, and i don’t know what to do. i’ve contacted my doctor and should hopefully hear back from her in a few days. but i’m so scared that something more is wrong or that this one will also last over a month like the last one.

do any other accursed uterus havers have a similar experience and any idea what’s wrong with me? or what i should do? if this one goes over a week i’m going to seek more urgent medical attention. i’ve heard suggested from people i know that it could potentially be endometriosis or a cyst so if anyone whos following me has some firsthand experience please let me know, im having a really rough time right now. sorry for the tmi and all but im so extremely uncomfortable and losing my mind and need help

[wosoamazing]

A Love Like This

Kyra Cooney-Cross x Williamson!R (Plus Leah, Lia and Steph)

Warnings: Migraine (symptoms similar to those of a MBA), ambulances, hospitals A/N: This is kind of like an introduction I guess, there will be a part 2 (and maybe some more parts) which will be fluffy and focus a lot more on R & Kyra. If you have any requests for this let me know.

“Kyra?” Leah asked confused, knowing you and Kyra were meant to be doing something that night. 

“Leah, um, sorry,” Kyra stumbled, fear evident in her voice.

“Is everything okay? What’s wrong?” Leah asked suddenly, more nervous, with the knowledge that your ‘secret’ girlfriend and you were spending time together, and the fear she could hear in Kyra’s voice she felt a wave of panic wash over her.

“Um, your sister and I might be dating and we were meant to be having a date night together and somethings wrong,” Kyra blurted out, before continuing at a slower pace, “and she-she, you need to come now, please,” Kyra said and your sister could hear the clear panic in her voice, which almost broke with her last word, the young Australian almost in tears.

“Okay, I’m coming now, are you at hers?” 

“Yes, please don’t hang up,”

“I’m not going to hang up, it’s okay, I just need you to take some deep breaths for me. Lia, Steph and I are just around the corner and everything is going to be okay,” Leah said as she tried to reassure the Aussie over the phone, “Can you tell me what happened?”

“I-I came over because we were going to have a movie night and she didn’t come when I knocked at the door and didn’t answer her phone and so I used the spare key to unlock the door and she was just sitting on the floor of her room leaning against the wall. I tried to talk to her but she winced when I did and she could barely talk.” Kyra rambled.

“Okay, she’s probably just having a really bad migraine. I promise you everything is going to be okay,”

-

“Bedroom,” Kyra choked out as the three older women walked through the door, Leah instantly going to find you whilst Steph went to Kyra, and Lia walked into the kitchen to find your medications in case you needed them.

You tightly shut your eyes as the door to your bedroom opened, the light somehow still managed to seep through your eyelids and caused your head to throb alongside the constant buzzing pain. You felt like you were spinning and your ears were ringing.

“Oh bubs,” Leah softly cooed, “tablets taken? All,” Leah asked, trying to keep her words to a minimum which you appreciated.

“Yeah,” you managed to choke out, barely being able to talk.

“Bubs, I think we need to take you to the hospital,” “Please,” you replied, voice cracking as you tried to suppress your cries, knowing they would make everything so much worse.

“I’ll be back okay,” she said before getting up and slipping out the door.

__________

“Lia, can you call 111 and ask them where we should take her? We're going to the hospital. I’m just going out to my car to grab her something quickly” your sister said before quickly rushing out to the car.

-

“Le, they’re sending an ambulance out, it’s on its way now,” Lia told the blonde as she walked back through the door, uncharacteristically out of breath.

“Okay,” Leah replied nervously before shaking her head in an effort to clear it, so she could return to you, knowing she needed to be fully calm and present for you.

__________

“Bubs, they’re sending an ambulance out, so we’re just going to wait here until they come okay. We’re going to fix this I promise. Do you want my hoodie to wear?” you nodded weakly and she helped you slip the hoodie over your head hoping she could bring some comfort to you, knowing how much you loved to wear her hoodies when you were sick or whenever she went away. You slumped your body against hers in hopes of it making you feel better, somehow.

Leah walked into the waiting room just as Kyra, Steph and Lia arrived, meeting up with them before they all took seats, Leah was originally sitting between Steph and Lia, the three of them talking, however Leah couldn’t help but glance at Kyra everynow and then, watching as the young girl chewed on the inside of her cheeks and fiddled with the sleeves of her hoodie, deciding to excuse herself from the conversation with Steoh and Lia to go sit next to the Aussie, who seemed to be in her own world, not noticing how Leah was now sitting next to her.

“Kyra,” Leah tried to say as softly as possible but it still didn’t help, Kyra looked up at her like a deer in the headlights before she burst into tears.

“I’m so sorry Leah, I shouldn’t have left her alone, what if- it could’ve gotten worse and-” “Hey, Ky, it’s okay, you did nothing wrong, you called me for help, and you were scared, and that’s okay,” Leah reassured the young Aussie as she wrapped her arm around the girl's shoulders.

_____

“If you would like one of you can go see her now,” the doctor said as he came out, Kyra looked at Leah expectantly, and leah just gave her a soft smile.

“You go,” she told your girlfriend.

“Really?” Kyra asked, surprised.

“Of course,” and with that Kyra was following the nurse back to see you like an energetic puppy.

“We’ve done both a CT and MRI and they are clear, her EEG is normal. She seems to have returned to her normal self after a round of high does pain meds and some antiemetics, we’re going to refer her to a neurologist, and you’re actually welcome to go see her now too, she just kept asking if she could see Kyra and so I thought to make her happy by sending Kyra in first,” The doctor told Leah and she nodded before standing up and following him.

You sat in the back of the car, in the middle seat, Kyra sitting next to you on one side and Steph on the other. Your head rested on Kyra’s shoulder as you dozed off, her arm wrapped around your waist. Leah couldn’t help but smile at you both as she looked at you through the rearview mirror whilst she drove you all home, the way you looked so comfortable in Kyra’s embrace and how Kyra kept looking up from her phone to check you were okay melted her heart. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t hesitant about you and Kyra at first, Kyra being known as the pest of the team, not knowing whether Kyra could be responsible enough to hold a relationship. But she was definitely proven wrong by Kyra over the past month and if today was anything to go by she was pretty confident you were in safe hands.

[andhumanslovedstories]

I’ve been struggling lately with the feeling that my job is pointless. Intellectually I know it is not—nursing is one of those professions where you get to be real smug about knowing the value of your work. But it’s still felt very pointless. Like I’ll start a shift thinking, “what am I even doing here,” and end it thinking, “what have I actually even done.” It’s been a ROUGH couple months.

But I had a really good shift last time I worked, which was good for the soul and also a very useful data point. I got to do pain management advocacy and symptom management, met a bunch of cool patients, did education for new nurses, and had several long heart to hearts, which the kind of midnight heart to hearts that I think are the most important part of night shift, all of that while being well staffed with very pleasant and appreciative patients and coworkers, and I was still like. Pretty depressed. I had a sense of satisfaction and moments of joy and meaning, but it turns out that one good shift did not cure the depression that has been latched on to me for the last few months like some kind of fucked up mental health leech. As I realized I was still depressed and that it was still interfering with my life even when everything was going well, the sense of peace washed over me was the best I’d felt in a while. Because I was like, okay! None of my usual stuff as worked! I have no excuse not to try something new to get my brain out of the shit ditch it’s slipped into.

So I’m applying for short-term disability. I’m worried I won’t get it, and I’m not sure what the next step is if I get rejected, but I feel so much better having decided to pursue it. It’s so much fuckin paperwork for sure, to a degree that’s overwhelming except that that the form could be a checkbox that says, “you want money?” and I’d be like “THIS IS TOO MUCH.” I’m totally not writing this post instead of finishing an email to my manager. I’m definitely not writing this post to avoid dealing with coordinating all my various care providers. I’m certainly not at every moment worried that I’m secretly faking all this so I can get three to nine weeks of a cool summer vacation.

I was thinking about how I almost flunked nursing school in my final semester because I turned in assignments late for a class with a “no late homework” policy. The professor said that this was reflective of real life, where if you miss deadlines you’re just fucked. I ended up appealing my grade and passing, because frankly it was a weak reason for making me repeat a final semester when there was no issues with my actual work or knowledge. During my appeal, I was like “I also think this policy is ableist. Harsh penalties for late work hurt students with health problems, especially chronic health problems when you aren’t asking for one week off due to the flu but instead for a general and never ending flexibility. I’m not trying to make an excuse but explain why this policy is a bad one. Disabled healthcare workers are an asset to healthcare.” I’m trying to remember my own argument as I pursue help. My depression and ADHD and eating disorder do help me be a better nurse, not because like depression gives you superpowers, but because I manage my chronic illnesses every day, in ways that range from hardly noticeable to life or death. Being kind to patients means being kind to myself, and vice versa.

I’m rambling. I really do not want to do this paperwork or send these emails. And I’m not sure if I deserve the leave I’m trying to take. But I miss being love with my job. I miss enjoying it. I wouldn’t judge someone else for going on medical leave, and my job doesn’t want me to burn out or quit. It almost feels like I have to be skeptical of applying for leave because no one else is. Everyone I’ve spoken to has been very supportive, including my manager. And considering how many unpaid days off I’ve had to take lately, disability leave would be an improvement over some of my recent paychecks. All in all, short-term disability makes sense and seems like a reasonable response to circumstances. But FUCK. I wish it required like 90 percent less documentation.

[niningtori]

violets are blue: a hanahaki au | oneshot

pairing(s): choi beomgyu x you, choi yeonjun x you

summary: you love beomgyu, your best friend, so much it makes you sick. literally. like, sick in the sense that your days are numbered as you try to fight off the hanahaki threatening to kill you every time he breaks your heart with his loving girlfriend, so you decide you'll try getting over him with the help of his girlfriend's friend, yeonjun.

genre: ANGST, melodrama, romance, hanahaki

warnings: lots of clichés, serious illnesses, and mentions of death

word count: 5.2k

notes: surprise! i didn't think i'd get this out just yet but here it is <3 please don't be mean (i'm fragile) and feedback is always appreciated!

it’s a bearable sort of pain, but it’s still painful, nonetheless. bearable is a very loose term, too, because you know if and when things continue as they are, you will no longer be able to write your symptoms off so casually. and as you lean over beomgyu’s toilet and watch purple petals stained with crimson red blood swirling down the drain, you know it won’t be long before your pain crosses from “bearable” to “hellish”. 

still, you manage to flush the evidence of your dying heart and take a good look at yourself in the mirror. your lips are nice and bloody, your makeup nice and smudged. you calmly take out the emergency mouthwash and makeup from your bag and get to work. after you’re finished tidying up, it’s almost like nothing ever happened. with a shaky smile and slightly reddened eyes, you leave his bathroom and prepare for the worst.

and the worst, it is. you just so happen to walk in to beomgyu’s living room while he plants a kiss on his girlfriend’s cheek as she giggles like mad. suddenly, your chest hurts even more than it already did and you find it hard to breathe. well, back to the bathroom you go.

-

you wish it were like the stories. you wish you could get some magical surgery to remove the flowers from your lungs — yes, even if it meant forgetting beomgyu. if you were a better person, you would say you’d rather die with your love than forget him; but as you’ve come to find out, you guess you’re not that selfless. actually, with the way things are now, you think it’d be better to forget. but unfortunately for you, there is no such solution in this world. 

as it stands, the only way for you to cure your illness is by finding another love, which you have been too stubborn to try, but as you die a little more and more every day, you realize you have to do something. beomgyu is getting more serious with his girlfriend with every passing day, and even before that, he never once looked at you like anything other than a best friend — which you thought was killing you at the time, in a figurative sense, but now it’s killing you in the most  literal of ways and you’re desperate. 

you want to tell yourself that beomgyu needs you, and maybe he does, but he does not need your love the way you need his. the proof of this sentiment being that one of you is, at present, dying for the love of the other, and it’s not him. 

-

it’s hard to hate beomgyu’s girlfriend when she’s so fucking nice, so you stopped trying to hate her long, long ago. in another life, you might even call each other friends. in this one, though, it’s a quiet sort of dance where you neither push nor pull her too hard. if she’s there, you greet her with a smile on your face. if she’s not, you don’t ask about her. it’s a delicate little charade, but one you play the part in flawlessly. beomgyu commends you for being “so cool” with her, but you have no other choice. if you veer too much in one direction or the other, you run the risk of losing him for good. 

so she is, understandably, very surprised when you wait for beomgyu to go to the bathroom before asking her if she has any single friends.

“oh my god, really? i thought you'd never ask!” she exclaims, and you paste on a smile so sweet it’s sickening.

turns out, she has a lot of friends, unlike you, and many of them are, in her words, handsome. she pulls up a picture of a few of them and your eye is caught by one in particular. 

“who’s that one?” you ask, pointing to a black-haired boy with an undercut. 

“that’s yeonjun,” she grins. “oh, i just knew you’d like him. you’re totally his type, too. he’s gonna freak when i set you two up.” 

“what’s going on?” beomgyu cuts, and your short-lived giddiness is shot in the head almost instantly.

“baby, you’ll never believe it. she’s interested in yeonjun,” she declares, still as excited as ever.

beomgyu turns to you with a look you can only describe as odd. you never talk about dating with him. like, ever. you don’t even seem interested in the idea to the point where he very earnestly sat you down one day and asked you if you were asexual, to which you spent a very arduous few hours awkwardly explaining that you are not. honestly? he didn’t really believe it at the time, but he’s beginning to now, if only because you seem so incredibly flustered at the moment. 

“really? that’s great,” he says after a slightly off-putting pause, but thankfully, nobody catches it. “you know, for a second there, i thought you were gonna be our future kids’ single wine aunt forever. i’m glad you’re finally putting yourself out there.” god, he hurts you, and he doesn't even mean to, but it hurts all the same. he’s spoken about marrying and having children with her, but to think that you fall into the “fun aunt” role in his future with her just makes you feel sick. you’d better pray that this shit with yeonjun goes well, because your lungs are starting to ache just as the thought.

“this is great,” she says, breaking you out of your trance. “how about this: we’ll go on a double date. that sounds fun, right?” 

“actually, i think i’d like to meet him on my own first, if that’s cool with you,” you say. the last thing you need is for the love of your life to be there on your first date with another man. what if things go wrong? or worse, what if things go right? beomgyu can’t be there for that. you can’t do that to poor yeonjun.

she looks disappointed at your words, but beomgyu cheers her up by pinching her cheeks and promising that you’ll all have plenty of chances to go out together if things go well. you try to smile, you really do, but you’re not sure if what comes out looks anything even remotely close to one. luckily, it seems like they’re too absorbed in each other to notice.

-

you haven’t talked much with yeonjun before tonight, opting to meet him in person to see if the chemistry is there before wasting any time with just “talking”. you simply don’t have the time to spare, and yeonjun seems equally as eager to meet you for reasons unknown. so now you sit all dolled up and glammed out at the back of a dimly lit restaurant as you wait to meet the boy you can only pray will save you. he must have no idea how much you need this. 

when you first see him, you’re taken aback by how handsome he is. you see beomgyu every day, and he’s the handsomest man in the world to you, but something about yeonjun is different. when he introduces himself and you get to know each other, his charisma charms you in a way you sincerely did not anticipate. he’s funny and goofy, which is just how you like them. you haven’t been on a date in god know’s how long, but you’re starting to think that maybe this previously incomprehensibly doomed situation may not be so inescapable after all. that is, until he’s taking you home.

it’s dark outside and he graciously gives you his jacket like the gentleman he is, and you’re walking notably close together on the sidewalk, bodies brushing each other every few steps when he tells you something that just might change your life.

“listen, i really had fun tonight,” he says nervously, and it’s like you can feel the rejection before he even says anything more.

“but to be honest with you, my intentions aren’t exactly pure.” your heart drops. does he just want to sleep with you or something? that wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, but it’s not what you need. you need to love someone and for that someone to love you back so you don’t get sick beyond salvation. the only way to get over beomgyu is by getting serious with someone else.

“then what do you want?” you question feebly. he stops walking and turns to look at you, placing his hands on your shoulders.

“i want to fall in love with you, and i want you to fall in love with me. i want us to be together forever. i need it, actually.” he says eerily seriously, and you’re confused for a few moments before it dawns on you. 

“you’re sick, aren’t you?” you ask, and his face hardens for a second before he nods.

“y-yeah, i'm sick. if you don't wanna see me again after this, i understand. i just —”

“it's okay. i am, too,” you say with a small, reassuring smile.

“you too?” he asks, eyes comically wide and pouty lips agape in an “o”. 

“yeah,” you tell him, and he’s quiet for a few moments before he laughs. it’s a cute, pretty little thing, and it makes you join him, too. 

“wow, maybe meeting each other was fate,” he says between giggles.

“maybe,” you reply. and for the first time in a long time, you think you might really make it out of this alive.

-

“and you won’t believe it, but he told me he spent the whole night with her!” beomgyu’s girlfriend says proudly. 

“... what?” he mumbles dazedly. 

“he said he went over to her place and stayed there all night, and on the first date, too!” she babbles. “now, he didn’t tell me what they did, but if i know yeonjun, i bet they —” 

“stop,” he cuts in. he doesn’t know why, but he feels that if he hears one more word about it, something will feel horribly wrong. it already does feel wrong, in a way, but he can’t quite put his finger on why. 

“why? aren’t you happy for them?” she asks confusedly. 

“i… i am. it’s just weird, y’know? she’s like… like a sister to me. nobody wants to hear about their sister’s private life,” he reasons, and she nods in response.

“i guess that makes sense,” she says. “but still, i’m so happy for them. especially him. he’s actually had a rough time, lately. i don’t know why, but he’s been acting kinda weird with me, so i —” 

“you’re here!” beomgyu says as you walk through his front door. he’s been expecting you. since your first date with yeonjun, he’s been eagerly texting you about it. you haven’t responded much, but he’s been chalking it up to how busy you must be with your new, well, whatever yeonjun is to you. he’s excited when he thinks about how he’ll get to see how you two interact with each other tonight since his girlfriend suggested you all hang out together, but part of him feels off about this entire situation. what he told her was the truth: it is weird to see you with someone, but maybe he’s just not used to it. you’ve never been openly attracted to anyone before, so it’s brand new territory to navigate. 

you greet him with a soft smile and not much else, which strikes him as odd, but yeonjun trails in after you, and all other thoughts go out of the window. 

“hey, man! nice to see you. it’s been a while,” he says, and yeonjun reciprocates the same excitement, going in for a side hug. 

beomgyu’s girlfriend goes in for a hug, too, and yeonjun freezes for a bit, but it goes unnoticed by everyone besides you. you look at him with as much reassurance and understanding as you can muster, and he replies with a grateful, shaky smile.

honestly, you weren’t terribly surprised when he told you that the object of his affections was the very person who holds the heart of the object of yours. she’s a bubbly, lively kind of girl, and it’s easy to fall in love with someone like that. if anything, it just makes you think that maybe yeonjun was right when he said meeting each other was fate.

the night is pretty fun, all things considered, and you find yourself not wanting to die while spending time with the loving couple, but that’s only because yeonjun is sitting next to you. when something particularly devastating happens, you grab each other’s hands and squeeze like you’re the other’s only lifeline. in a way, you kind of are. without him, you’d be on a one-way train to certain death, and without you, he’d be the same. 

things are pretty light, though, until beomgyu says he has an announcement to make.

“we’re moving in together!” his girlfriend cheerily cuts in before he can do the honors, and that’s enough to make any hard-earned progress go out the window. you feel your stomach churn and you’re finding it hard to breathe. you look very visibly ill, and while yeonjun is not doing much better, you definitely take it a lot harder.

“that’s amazing! i’m happy for you guys!” yeonjun chirps. 

“yeah. sorry, i think i need to go to the bathroom,” you mumble, and yeonjun concernedly looks at you before you subtly shake your head. in that brief look, you have an entire conversation. he asks if you’re alright and if you need him to come with you to spill your guts out, and you tell him you’re not, but you’d rather go alone.

while his girlfriend may not catch it, beomgyu certainly does. that odd, silent conversation that only yeonjun and you seem privy to. the fact that you two seem to have a level of understanding with words unspoken makes him feel suffocated, and there’s an unknown sharpness in his chest. 

he tries to join back in on the banter, but he can’t shake the uncanny feeling he has, so he excuses himself and follows you to the bathroom. 

now, he knows this is really fucking weird to do, so he almost doesn’t do it, but the sound of you retching makes him abandon all consideration of right and wrong. he presses his ear to the door and hears hushed sobs in between hacks, and it makes his eyes widen in horror and concern. 

he’s not sure how much time passes, but he hears the heartbreaking sounds die out, and then he hears the water run and you clearing your throat. he takes the cue to stop pressing against the door, and before long, you step out of the bathroom while looking perfectly put together. you flinch almost imperceptibly when you catch him right outside the door. 

“are you alright?!” he exclaims, but you just nod and begin to push past him, murmuring something about being fine, but that you and yeonjun need to leave because something came up. he didn’t even know you could move so fast, and he finds that he’s borderline chasing you to the living room where his girlfriend and yeonjun look up in surprise at the scene before them.

“do we need to leave?” yeonjun asks carefully.

“yeah,” you say shortly, and you’re booking it out of the door and onto the porch before beomgyu grabs your arm and spins you around to face him. his girlfriend hesitantly follows yeonjun outside and watches the entire ordeal as puzzle pieces begin to fit together in her mind.

“are you alright?!” he repeats, and you just face him with a withering, humbling look.

“i’m okay. i just don’t feel good tonight, but i’ll be alright. congratulations on everything, i’m sorry i can’t stay to celebrate.” and normally that would be enough to throw him off of your scent, but beomgyu remembers your muffled cries, and he won’t be swayed so easily. 

“what’s wrong? no bullshit. just tell me,” he demands in a way that is uncharacteristically solemn, but you can’t answer that. the only way to get him to forget about you is for you to distract him with the person he loves most.

“but your girlfriend —” 

“don't even start. what’s wrong?” he, well, asks isn’t even really the world, is it? there’s no room for negotiation in his tone. 

“i… i’m sick,” is all you can really say. 

“sick how? sick like you need me to take you home?” and he doesn’t really believe his own implication that it’s something so easily fixable, but he has to try. 

“i’m… i’m really sick. sick like i’m dying, sick,” you manage to croak out, and it’s everything he feared and more.

“what’s wrong?! do you need to go to the hospital?!” he panics, and you feel an overwhelming sense of dread. this is what you wanted to avoid because he can’t help you. nobody can. 

“baby?” the soft voice of his girlfriend pipes up from behind you. his gaze is torn away from you for just a moment, but that’s enough to make you ache.

“not now!” he snaps before turning his attention back to you, but it’s too late. you feel the sharp stems scratching at your lungs, causing a scorching sort of pain you can’t even put into words. slowly, you begin to cough — choke, really — and beomgyu is helpless to watch as you clutch your chest and hack up a mess of bloodied, tangled flowers. his eyes widen as he takes in the blood seeping from the corners of your mouth. 

“who?” he asks shakily as you finish coughing up the last of the petals, and you know he’s asking who your unrequited love is, but you don’t reply. you can’t reply. 

“who is it?” he asks again with more edge to his voice, but you still can’t muster up the courage to answer him. you could lie like you usually do, but you’re so tired, you just can’t anymore.

“baby?” his girlfriend repeats.

“what?!” he snaps, unable to help himself from losing his temper as he turns to look at her.

“it’s… it’s you,” is all she says, and his scowl drops and morphs into incredulity and dread.

“that's impossible,” he whispers, but one look at you and your twisted expression is enough to erase all doubt. “m-me? listen, you know i love you, but i —” 

“it's alright,” you coax, trying to placate him. even in your darkest moments, you're still putting his feelings first, and the thought alone is suffocating him. “i know. i really, really do. you don’t have to explain it to me.” and your “comforting” smile would be more convincing if it weren't stained red. 

“but you’re sick! you —” 

“i’ll be alright,” you whisper, and he’s at a loss for words at how calm you seem to be. how can you be so resigned? he looks at you — really, truly looks at you — for the first time in god knows how long, and he finally notices how different you are. your frame is lighter, your cheeks are more pronounced, and there are violet bags underneath your bloodshot eyes. how could he have missed so many signs? you’re dying, no way around it, and he was so busy playing house with his girlfriend, he had no idea just how much you were — are — suffering. it’s unforgivable, but he can tell you’ve forgiven him, anyway. how long have you been forgiving him? since the start of his current relationship? or even before that? 

“we should go,” yeonjun cuts in tentatively. you just tearily nod, and before beomgyu can say anything more, you’re in yeonjun’s car and driving away.

-

he calls and texts for days on end, but you don’t respond. at some point, he resolves to come see you in person. the way you looked the last time he saw you haunts him viciously. he just has to see you. he just has to be sure.

but when he shows up at your doorstep, you just look exhausted and even worse for wear. you don’t greet him, even, you just sigh and walk back to your bedroom before plopping down into the bed and looking at him with a look he can only describe as unreadable. 

“i just h-had to make sure you’re okay,” he stammers.

“i’m okay,” you reply gently. “i just need some time.” 

“b-but maybe if i —” 

“it won’t work. the only way out of this is for you to love me back, or for me to get over you. yeonjun is helping me, so it’s going to be alright, i think.”

“what if i —” 

“you can’t make yourself love me, beomgyu,” you say softly, the slightest tinge of a reprimand in your voice. 

“i… i can try,” he whimpers.

“yes, but i don't want you to. you have a girlfriend,” you patiently reply, but your seemingly unshakable patience just makes him more desperate.

“then what do you want me to do? i’m killing you!” he exclaims, and you wince as a sharp pain strikes your temples at the noise. he notices your response, and he just wants to die from the guilt.

“i don’t want you to do anything. that’s why i didn’t tell you.” how could you not want him to do anything? how could you possibly ask that of him? 

“h-how can you say that? how can you just expect me to watch you die?” he whines, tears spilling down his cheeks as he looks to you for a perfect solution that will never come.

“i’m alright,” you tell him again, but the way you wheeze afterwards suggests otherwise.

he goes to grab you, maybe to pat your back or maybe to hold you, he’s not really sure, but you feebly put your hand up to stop him before he gets too close. it’s an innocent gesture in and of itself, yet it somehow feels like you just smacked him across the face. 

“don’t touch me,” you say, but it’s more like a plea than anything else. “it’ll just hurt me more.” with that, your words devolve into a coughing fit and all he can do is watch as splatters of blood and stems stain the tissue you cough into. he never, not in a million years, thought that his touch would hurt you. it’s supposed to soothe you like nothing else. you know, the way your touch soothes him.

“i think you should go,” you suggest after your coughing has died down. he can see the aftermath of his mere presence etched into the tired lines on your face, and he feels less like a person and more like the scum of the earth. 

-

“what are you thinking about?” a sweet voice says, effectively pulling him out of his reverie. beomgyu is currently supposed to be cooking dinner with his girlfriend, but he’s spending more time spacing out than actually cooking the noodles he’s meant to be stirring.

“n-nothing,” he sputters, but her knit eyebrows and frown let him know he has to elaborate. still, he pretends he doesn’t notice her silent urging and returns to his task. 

he can feel her stare on him as he watches the pot, and it’s not very long before she sighs and says her next words.

“you’re thinking about her, aren’t you?” 

“what? n-no! i just —” 

“yes, you are.” and her tone isn’t accusatory, but it’s filled with a sense of knowing. “it’s normal to think about her, you know? she’s dying and —” 

“don’t say that! why would you say that?! she’s not going to die!” he yells, slamming down the fork he was using to stir and turning to face her. he’s visibly shaking with rage — which makes no sense given that he knows, she knows, and even you know that her words are true. 

“she’s going to die,” she repeats. “you need to accept that.”

“how can you expect me to accept that?! you two just expect me to be okay with her fucking dying! well, i’m not!” he cries, tears streaming down his face as his words get louder and louder. 

“... i think you need to take some time to cool down. i’ll stay with my parents, so do what you need to do. when you’re ready, just call me, okay?” she says, and he only sobers up after he hears the front door slam shut.

-

beomgyu stays in an odd sort of purgatory. he’s constantly torn between contacting you and leaving you alone like you so obviously want. he tells himself that you’re his best friend, so of course he wants to see you and comfort you, but it feels much deeper than that. like there’s something unsolved and untouched that he just needs to dig a little deeper to figure out, but as for what that something is, he can’t seem to quite grasp. 

with this in mind, he never, not in a million years, anticipated that you’d be here on his doorstep. but here you are. you look even worse than before, somehow, which he is surprised by seeing as how things with yeonjun seem to be going well if yeonjun’s instagram updates of the both of you mean anything at all. he invites you in and offers you a seat, but you refuse. 

“come on, sit down. you must be tired,” he urges, but you wave your hand. 

“i don’t need to stay here long,” you dismiss, and it hurts his heart. “i just need one thing from you, and i’ll be out of here.”

“you need something from me? sure, anything! w-what is it?” and he sounds so hopeful, so earnest. maybe there’s a way to undo what he’s done. maybe he can help you after all. no matter what it is, he knows he can do it.

“... i need you to reject me,” is all you say, but the words ring in his ears. reject you? how can he reject you when it looks like a breeze could knock you over?

“b-but why?” he stammers, and you sigh.

“i finally figured it out. i just need to hear you tell me that you don’t love me, then i think i’ll be able to fully let you go for good.” usually, you’d have a soft smile on your face in order to comfort him, but your face is blank except for your eyes, which seem more desperate than anything he’s ever seen. but your words confuse him.

“let me go for good?” 

“yeah. i think if i can just hear you say it, i won’t need to see you anymore. i won’t ask for anything else, i just need to hear it from you,” you say determinedly. but he’s stuck on “i won’t need to see you anymore”. what could you possibly mean by that? 

“what do you mean you won't need to see me anymore?” he asks, voice devoid of any ill intent, but filled with genuine confusion.

“i mean, yeonjun doesn’t like me seeing you for obvious reasons, but i told him that i think i’ll be okay after this.” his confusion turns into dread. things that were a mystery to him suddenly make perfect sense.

“i can’t,” he chokes out, and you’re visibly stunned before anger explodes inside of you. 

“you can’t? what the fuck do you mean you can’t? why can’t you?!” you seethe. you’ve done everything for beomgyu, you even almost paid the ultimate price for him just so you wouldn’t have to make him uncomfortable with your feelings. you’re quite literally dying because of him, and he can’t offer up a meager sentence for you?

“i… i can’t say it. please don’t make me say it,” he pleads. “i’ll do anything else — anything, i swear to god!”

“beomgyu, there is nothing else. this is the only way. i’m not asking you for much, just say it, then i’ll be okay.” but he can’t do what you ask of him. not when he’s realized what he just realized. 

“b-but i… i do love you. i’m sorry, i just didn’t realize it until just now, but i do. a-and if you’ll have me, i —” smack! and his pathetic speech is stopped by your hand meeting his cheek. 

“you are so fucking selfish,” you spit, voice low, but vibrating with rage. “more selfish than i will ever be able to understand.” 

“w-what do you —” 

“beomgyu, you have a girlfriend. a girlfriend who loves you. what about her? huh?” you ask, and his previous momentum falters, but you’re not even finished yet. 

“and if she gets sick, are you gonna leave me and tell her you want her instead? you can’t do that, beomgyu. i won’t accept that. i won’t accept your love just because you feel sorry for me,” you declare, voice cracking as thick, hot tears roll down your cheeks. he’s still speechless, so you somehow find it in yourself to continue.

“i’m not doing this with you right now. call your girlfriend, tell her you’re sorry, and tell her she doesn’t have to worry about me anymore. and even if i’m gone, don’t you dare tell her what you told me today, okay?” and it’s not really an ask as much as a demand. 

“i can’t do that,” he whispers, and you’re not sure if the ache in your heart comes from the briars encircling it or from how pained he looks.

“i know i’m selfish. i know i’m a bastard. but seeing you with yeonjun, or worse, not seeing you at all? that’ll fucking kill me. i just can’t do it. i don’t want to hurt her, but i don’t want to lie to her. or you. or myself,” he says shakily.

“what are you saying?” you ask. this is not how you anticipated things would go. 

“i’m saying that if you leave me, i’ll be sick,” he says shakily. “j-just the thought of that makes me…” and it’s a surprise to the both of you when he coughs like crazy, and it’s to the horror to the both of you when a pretty, blood-stained violet petal escapes his mouth.

“oh god,” you whisper. “you can’t do this.”

“i can’t help it!” he exclaims. “i didn’t know before, but it’s true. i just didn’t realize it. i’m just — i’m just sorry i didn’t realize it.” 

“beomgyu, it’s going to kill her,” you say, dread evident in your tone.

“i know,” he says tearily. “but it’s you. it’s always been you. we can’t change it.” 

“i can’t do this to her. it’s wrong,” is all you can say. 

“i can’t live without you, and you can’t live without me,” he replies. “w-whatever happens, can we please just figure it out together? i don’t think i can handle another day without you. i think it might really kill me.” he pushes your hair off of your sweaty forehead, and you know as you feel your heart lighten that you have no choice. if not for you, then for him. whatever happens with his girlfriend, you will try your damndest to make sure she doesn't have the same fate as the two of you. 

“okay?” he asks. 

“o-okay,” you tell him, because what else is there to say? 

notes pt. 2: lorddd i know this ending will be polarizing but what can we do... it is what it is :(

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[coca-lastic]

Here For You | F. Odair

Summary: Finnick takes care of you when you're on your period

Tw: Menstruation, insecurities, boyfriend!Finnick, stress

A/N: I'm sorry if the representation of menstruation in this story doesn't match your personal experience, normally my fics are created from thoughts I have myself. My first language is not English, so if there is an error I would appreciate it if you could tell me <3

Second day waking up in sheets completely stained with blood. Cursing yourself for not having put darker colored sheets, gray wasn't enough, it seemed.

Normally when you're on your period all you want to do is literally do nothing. You just get up, eat whatever you have in the refrigerator for breakfast, sleep or watch a movie until lunchtime arrives, order something to eat and continue watching series and movies while eating chocolate.

Definitely everything you wanted. But not today. Finnick had invited you for a morning walk for over a week. Apparently he bought you some gifts.

Finnick is too sweet to cancel his plans. So you started to get ready, starting with a hot shower to dull the pain, or at least that's what you wanted because it turned out to be completely useless.

Getting out of the shower you start dressing with the first thing you packed. Of course, you didn't expect to finish dressing, look in the mirror and completely beg for your reflection.

What was the point of showering and getting ready if the result would still be negative?

You hated thinking like that, inside you knew that it was part of the symptoms of menstruation but...what if it wasn't?

Maybe if you looked bad, maybe those clothes didn't flatter you, or maybe the makeup was too little and didn't cover all your imperfections.

How the fuck could you see your boyfriend looking so bad?

First of all, how the fuck would he want to see you looking like that?

Normally you would keep thinking about it, over and over again until you destroy yourself. But not today. It was probably already late, there was no time to overthink. So you decided to look for other clothes.

But there wasn't. There were no clothes that fit you well, there were no clothes that could make your body look like the body you want to have, there are no clothes that can cover those details that you hate so much.

Some tears began to leak from your eyes, you tried to hold them back. It wasn't time to cry. Not today.

But it was difficult, it was difficult to try to contain your thoughts when you always felt that even the smallest thing was against you.

When you finally found some pants that might fit you and tried to put them on, you realized that they were too big for you.

"I should eat more..."

"It should look better..."

No, not now, not today.

When you resumed your search for clothes you heard the doorbell ring in your house and all you wished was that it was a girl wearing something and not your boyfriend.

But no, because today everything was against you.

You walked towards the living room, wearing pants that were too big for you and the shirt from the first outfit, looking terrible.

You opened the door a crack, allowing only your face to be seen. And there he was. How did he manage to look so good at all times? He didn't have to wear many things to look perfect, he didn't have to cover up imperfections to be satisfied, he didn't have to search for almost half an hour until he could make him look handsome.

"Hi hon- hey, what's wrong? Are you okay?" His face changed in a single second, it went from one of his perfect, bright smiles to a worried face. Great, you couldn't even keep his happiness intact from him.

"Yeah...I'm fine" you said with your voice a little raspy and broken by the tears you had shed recently. "You're early, what a miracle"

"Honey, I'm 20 minutes late," Finnick commented, his worried face analyzing how little of your body was visible.

"Oh really?" When had time passed so quickly? Maybe when you were in the middle of your emotional crisis, but you didn't remember crying for so long... or maybe you did but you didn't want to admit it. "I'm sorry Finn, I'm not ready yet. Wait for me in the living room, I'll be ready in about 10 minutes" You opened the door a little more to allow him to enter. You were quite ashamed of how you currently looked so as soon as he entered your house you wanted to run to your room to continue with the shit you were doing.

But he grabbed your hand and made you turn to him "Hey love, what's wrong?" “He said in the most caring and loving voice possible, making you feel guilty.

"It's nothing Finnick, I was just a little stressed..."

"Love, if you want to stay home that's fine, and you don't have to keep the stress to yourself. You know I'm here for you when you need a shoulder to cry on." Stay at home? After Finnick has been planning this damn ride for like 2 weeks? Of course not.

"Finnick, I'm fine, and I don't need to cry, it's not that serious, let me go get dressed..."

"Love, your eyes are red and your makeup is a little smudged, don't lie to me. You know that I care about you and if you cry it's okay, it's normal, but don't hold back, talk to me"

"Finnick, I'm fine. I- I was just a little stressed, the walk is going to help me." Of course not, the walk has only caused more stress than menstruation normally brings.

"Honey...I won't bother if you want us to stay."

"Why the hell do you keep insisting so much on staying?! Let's go on the damn ride you've been wanting so much and that's it!" You said desperately, releasing yourself from his grip and walking quickly towards your room.

The tears returned to your eyes. You sat on the floor to continue looking for the right clothes in the mountain of things you had made on the floor. Now not only were you a mess, but your room too.

You rummaged through the clothes but there was nothing. Why the fuck wasn't there anything that made you look pretty?

The pain in your belly began to get stronger when you began to cry. You knew that stress would only make the pain worse, but it wasn't easy to stop it when you knew you had to do something quickly.

You brought your two hands to your belly when you had a very strong pain and simply let the few tears you had managed to contain come out. Tears were streaming down your face, you felt your makeup ruining more than it already was. Everything around you felt like a complete disaster, a cold, stressful mess.

"Love..." Finnick knelt next to you, since when had he been here?

In the middle of the cold environment around you, his arms surrounded you, giving you a comforting warmth, a warmth so beautiful and special. He rubbed the top of your back, giving you silent support. But that didn't stop the pain in your belly.

"Finn... It hurts so much" You whimpered as you put your head on his shoulder and wrapped your arms around his neck.

"What? What hurts you love?" He separated from you a little to examine your body in search of any bruises or cuts. His worried eyes analyzed you.

You didn't let him finish examining you perfectly, you didn't like him getting away, in fact he didn't even stop hugging you, but he walked away. So you pressed him against you again. "My belly...damn, I hate seeing a woman"

“Oh honey…” he continued rubbing his hands on your back. Your statement explained a lot of things and also gave him a clue as to what he could do to calm you down.

Finnick stood up while still hugging you. At the sudden movement you wrapped your legs around his torso. You looked like a koala, hugging him so tightly.

"Hold on tight, pretty girl." He started walking, so you braced your legs a little more around him. You couldn't see where he was going, but when you heard drops of water falling on the floor, you realized he brought you to the bathroom.

But he didn't bring you to take a shower. He grabbed the towel you normally use to dry your hands and dipped it in the hot water from the shower. Then he took you to bed and tried to lay you down, but you didn't want to let go, you were comfortable and after a morning full of stress and pain you didn't want to let go of the comfort.

"Come on love, the towel will help you"

You ignored him, you didn't really want to argue. He put you in a comfortable position and he put the hot towel on your stomach, helping to soothe the pain in a very satisfying way.

"Fucking god..." You sighed with a smile at the satisfaction of the pain subsiding.

"I'll make you some tea and bring you some pills, okay?"

"Finn...no, it's not necessary. Seriously, you wanted to go for a walk with me for days"

"Love, forget that stupid walk. I wanted to spend time with you, not time with the walk" He gave your nose a brief kiss and stood up "The walk was just an extra to the main goal" You followed his steps and tried to get up, but his hand on your arms didn't let you. "Hey, hey, what do you think you're doing?

"Finnick, the room and I are a mess, look at that mountain of clothes, I need to pick them up" He opened his mouth to protest but you interrupted him. "And look at my makeup, it will cause irritation if I don't take it off right now."

"You stay in bed, I'll do it. I can take off your makeup and, if you promise me you'll take off your makeup and stop thinking about the stupid walk, then I'll clean your room." He raised his pinky finger like a little child, hoping you would reciprocate his treatment.

He watched for a few seconds, considering how lucky he had been to find him. And the bad luck he had had in finding you.

"Ok... But I owe you something" you raised your pinky and wrapped it around his, causing him to laugh happily.

"Perfect. I'll bring the makeup remover, then I'll make the tea and bring the pill, ok?"

"Perfect"

He ran away like a child who wants to pour a glass of water from his mother in less than a minute. A few seconds later he came with everything he needed to remove the mess on my face. He did it gently, with a delicacy that I don't even use when removing my makeup.

"Ready, first task finished" And as a sign that he finished it, he gave you a brief weight on your lips before running away again, this time next to the towel that was on your belly previously, it was already cold so he decided to return. to warm it up.

On his next arrival he brought you the towel, the pill, a glass of water and another kiss to mark the completion of the task.

And for the last time he left, leaving you quite relaxed, but there were still traces of stress. The room was a mess and being alone in your room the thoughts didn't stop.

Until he arrives again, he is there with a cup of tea and some gift boxes.

"For my beautiful girl, he is the owner of my heart and the only person I clean the room for," he said, handing me the boxes and placing the cup on the table next to the bed. "These are the gifts I wanted to give you, but open them when I'm done cleaning, I want to see your reaction" and there it was, the kiss that declared the gift-giving completed. The kiss was a soft, loving, warm kiss. It made you feel complete, forget about those insecurities that wouldn't let you in peace and from the stress that was kept in your head.

After the kiss Finnick started to pick up the clothes. It took about half an hour to clean up your mess, but he did it. Meanwhile you only see it while you drink your tea. He knew how to make your tea, he knew how to make you happy, how to comfort you, how to cheer you up, he was so perfect.

And you just wish you were as perfect for him as he is for you.

"What's wrong love?"

"Oh, are you done cleaning?"

"Yes, my lady, is there anything else I can please you with?" He gave an acted bow, causing you to giggle lightly.

"No Finn, thank you, you've done enough" You said kissing him, to mark the last task completed.

"I guess now I can fulfill my goal of being with you" he lay down next to you, looking directly into your eyes, seeing you with love, with admiration, with affection. "You are so Beautiful".

And those words hit right in the center of your heart. They were such easy words to say, words that he said to you often, but now they have a different impact because after long hours of thinking of yourself as a total disaster, those words were simply gold to you.

"Are you sure about that? I...Finnick, I don't have a beautiful body. Today I tried to wear these damn pants and they are too big on me and this- this shirt makes me look bad, and- and I've cried like a little girl since that you arrived" Your tears accumulated in your eyes again and you just wanted to repress them there, so that they wouldn't come out.

"My love, don't be mad at me but that's one of the dumbest things I've heard this year. You- Honey I don't even know how to explain how beautiful you are. You don't even have to follow a beauty standard, you are the standard. Even crying you look like the most beautiful person on the entire fucking planet. And probably if I could read my thoughts every time I see you, you would never say things like that."

"But Finn I-"

"No buts, you're beautiful," He began to kiss every part of you, starting with your hands, then he got on top of you without crushing you, he moved the hot towel a little and kissed your belly, then he went up a little higher and kissed near your navel, then he went up to your breasts and, although he did not kiss them so as not to change the warm atmosphere, he passed his lips over the area, creating a ghost effect, he kissed your collarbone, he kissed your neck until he left a mark, he kissed your jaw, he kissed your nose, your ears, your eyes, your forehead, your head, and finally, your lips, he kissed them delicately, and with love. "Fuck, you saying you're not beautiful and me thinking how someone can just exploit the word beauty and be more than that."

"I love you so much Finnick" You said with cries of happiness, love and warmth escaping your eyes "I love you so much"

"I love you too, my love, more than I ever thought I could love." And with that he gave you a kiss on your lips, marking the end of the real task, making you happy. "The gifts, open them."

You got up a little to sit down and grabbed the 3 boxes, one of them was quite large, the other was a medium-sized box, maybe the size of a shoe wedge, and the third was quite small.

You started with the big one, seeing a lot of goodies inside. Chocolates, gummies, cookies. Everything he knew you liked

"Oh Finn, thank you very much. I'll probably eat all the chocolates today" you said looking at him mischievously like a little girl. He just imitated your position and he smiled at you.

You opened the second box, they were books. Your complete favorite damn saga, including the ones you haven't read. You looked at him surprised, your look said more than any thank you you could say. "Finnick, I love you, you're incredible" you said with impressive seriousness, making him laugh.

"Open the third one, it's the best"

You opened the third box, the smallest. And for a few seconds you were just left processing the information, with tears threatening to come out. With happiness overflowing from your heart. And for a moment you thought it was a dream, so you turned to Finnick, waiting for him to confirm or deny your suspicions.

"Will you marry me?"

And at that very moment you realized that nothing would make you happier than marrying him.

"Yes, oh my god, of course!" and you jumped into his arms crying and thinking that you were acting like a girl again.

Until you moved away so you could kiss him and you realized that he was just as happy as you, with teary eyes and a smile so beautiful that you kept it forever in your memory.

"Fuck, I was extremely nervous, I think my heart stopped for a moment" he said laughing more, staring into your eyes, eyes as teary as his own.

And you stuck your lips to his, swearing that you were going to be as perfect for him as he is for you and you were going to do everything he had done for you.

I literally improvised the marriage proposal so I don't know if it's shit or it turned out well, but I hope you enjoyed it <3

Finnick Odair watching Snow's death be like:

[jaskierx]

[CW for discussion of severe mental illness (PTSD) and suicide]

I want to add my perspective to the conversation about canyon people picking and choosing which disability rep is worth telling. It’s really offensive to me because I’m mentally disabled so it feels like these people are glossing over the mental illness rep in the show.

I hesitate because i do not want to seem like I’m chastising people for acknowledging the physical disability rep. OFMD has better physical disability rep than any show I’ve seen, while I’ve seen many shows with mentally ill characters. I also do not want to give credit where credit is not due, because ultimately these characters don’t have any diagnosed mental disabilities. However, I don’t think that that subtracts from the representation because 1)the show obviously takes place before many mental health diagnoses that we have now did,2) even if those diagnoses did exist, the crew would not be able to access them, and 3) I think the show is clearly trying to tell us that characters are suffering from PTSD, or at the very least struggling to process a traumatic event, they just don’t have the words to describe it as such.

Many characters exhibit what would today be classified as symptoms of a psychiatric disorder. In this fandom we often joke about that, especially Ed’s (which is more than okay), but I also want to appreciate the way that season 2 deals with the trauma of the kraken era. They freak out and have flashbacks over blindfolds and birthday cakes because of what they’ve been through. They have interpersonal conflicts due to differing ways of processing the trauma and not seeing eye to eye on each others own unique experience (Lucius and Pete come to mind). Lucius takes up smoking to cope with the pain. Ed dissociates (I think, because he doesn’t remember wanting to have a talent show) and is literally suicidal, first passively (“you mean curl up into a ball and die?”) and then actively (the whole storm thing). He also turns to using drugs to self medicate.

Anyway sorry for the novel I just wanted to add my perspective because this show means a lot to me as someone who’s mentally disabled and I want to know if anyone else with a mental disability feels the same/differently.

no don't apologise this is a really good point!

i've posted about it a few times and so has glam and several other people whose links i don't have to hand but the depiction of ed's mental illness and his suicidality is fucking spot on and the show absolutely deserves all the praise it gets for that

especially because it's quite possibly the first show i've ever seen that depicts suicidality in a way that manages to be accurate without being pitying and manages to be hopeful without romanticising the issue. the show brings ed to his lowest point and then shows him being helped to come back from that by people who love him. it tells us that there's always a way for things to get better and that you can get there by yourself but it's easier if you have help, and it tells us that this help is available because there is always going to be someone waiting for you even if you doubt that. it never shows ed as 'cured'. it never shows stede being angry with ed for his symptoms. when lucius suggests that ed might just be 'broken', stede very quickly shuts him down and the show makes it clear that the narrative is on stede's side here.

and all of this just doesn't get brought up by izzy stans. discussion of mental illness portrayal tends to be one of the following:

ignoring ed's arc altogether to focus on izzy's suicide attempt and his 'i want to go' line while he's on his deathbed (and in a massively different place to where he was in s2e2) and using this to pretend that the show's message is 'disabled queer people deserve to die' (yes unfortunately this is a take i have seen with my own two eyes)

writing ed's arc off as an example of 'magic dick' and using this to pretend that he was fine as soon as he got stede back

ignoring ed's arc completely and instead insisting that he's a violent serial killer and abuser with anger issues who traumatised the crew and will inevitably physically abuse stede and kill all their inn's customers

ignoring all portrayals of mental illness completely because they will deliberately downplay the disability of every other disabled character in order to centre izzy

the canyon will bend over backwards to centre izzy and to view the entire show through a lens where he is their longsuffering protagonist who can do no wrong and it's led them to ignore so much of what makes the show great

[petrichor-idyllic]

aaaa this might be a really lame request, but would it be possible for a minho x reader where she splits up with him when brenda and thomas go back and instead of brenda getting bitten by a crank it was the reader (maybe she got bitten saving brenda) and how he reacts to seeing her get ill / recover? 🥲 seeing an active tmr blog the delivers such good content in 2023 actually made me gasp so like even if you don’t write this, i will be actively reading anything you write!

Oooo I actually really like this idea, of course I'll write it :))

Also I appreciate your continued support, you guys are the best.

Inaccurate dialogue to the films because I'm too busy to watch the movies for reference, but you get the jist.

IN ADVANCE OF GRIEF

MASTERLIST | MINHO MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: See above. Fem! Reader x Minho. Movie based fic. You came up with Teresa.

WARNINGS: Inappropriate language, you nearly die (again)(there's becoming a theme with my Minho fics)(I'm really putting this man through it), the Flare works differently in the movie vers. and all we get are the visual symptoms so I'm making this shit up, WICKED being WCKD because movie.

This wasn't meant to happen.

You just went after Thomas when he ran after Brenda - you couldn't leave him alone with a stranger.

And look where your kindness has gotten you. Biten by a Crank.

You're not really sure how it happened, but when that psycho tried to attack Brenda, you were the one to dive to her rescue. It's a blur, but once that glass broke and Thomas managed to catch Brenda, and you narrowly avoided death- you didn't even notice the pain in your leg.

It's fine.

It's no big deal.

You're probably immune.

You were in the Maze, after all.

The memories of waking up with an unconscious Teresa next to you are only from a few days ago, but now it feels like an eternity.

Though, you thought you were all immune. And look what happened to Winston.

You managed to hide it from your companions, only checking the injury when they weren't looking. But Brenda seemed to catch onto something not being quite right.

You lose Thomas and Brenda in the daze of a party you accidentally got dragged into, though you're pretty sure you see them kiss, (and Brenda get rejected,) before your body hits the floor.

"Rise and shine, shank," Minho gently pushes you awake as your eyes flicker up to meet his. He smiles at you.

Minho.

Minho.

You don't really know when your feelings for him started, especially since you don't think you've ever actually stood still. But whilst Teresa was unconscious and you were having some kind of mental breakdown, Minho made time to make sure you were alright - even with his ventures into the Maze.

Newt had his hands full running the place with Alby out of commission and Gally was throwing a paddy because Thomas had achieved the impossible. So, Minho and the Medjacks were the only ones around to keep you sane.

Maybe if you arrived at a different point, things would be different.

But they're not.

Thomas and Brenda are already awake. Brenda is sitting in a chair, looking forlorn and anxiously glancing at you. Thomas is talking to Teresa, which is also a bitter sight for Brenda.

"What happened?" You grumble, pushing yourself up on your elbows. You've been lying on a pile of cushions on the floor.

"You got wasted at some Crank party, passed out - the klunk you took was stronger than Gally's special brew," he snickers, offering you a hand to pull yourself up. Your eyes flicker up to his face and you smile.

He yanks you up and you stumble slightly. "Woah, easy, girly," he chuckles, placing his hand on the small of your back, stabilising you.

Your head feels foggy from the drugs, but your main concern is the throbbing sensation in your ankle. It stings and pulses, like something is living under your skin.

Minho notices your hesitance as your stomach drops.

You're not immune.

If you were, your whole leg would feel like it's covered in cobwebs and on fire.

Shit. What do you do now?

You don't want to worry your friends, they have enough on their plate. And maybe your body will take more time to fight the infection. Maybe it's too soon to tell.

You're lying to yourself, but it's all you can do.

"Hey, you feeling okay?" You force yourself to smile at him.

"Yeah, yeah, just a bit shucked up - where are we?" You look around the room as Minho lets go of you. There's a man tied to a chair in the middle of the room as Jorge yells at him.

"We found Marcus," Minho says simply.

"That's Marcus?" You and Thomas say in unison.

It's the same guy that spiked you earlier.

You step forward, a jolt of pain slicing you in two, making your leg twist awkwardly and your stomach flip.

"Shuck-! Christ, (Y/N)," Minho jumps to catch you before you manage to catch yourself. "Are you sure you're good?"

"Y-yeah," you try to push out a chuckle, but it comes out as pained. "Think I twisted my ankle before - nothin' I can't handle."

Minho looks unsure, his eyes flickering to your leg and then back up to your face. He can't show how much he cares.

How much he wants to say fuck this and just figure out a way to survive in the Scorch with you. You were gone for one night and now something's wrong - he knows it's wrong but he can't quite put his finger on what.

He's tired of fighting, of running, of everything.

But he figured things would be alright because he had you now.

Brenda moves to let you sit down in the armchair. She's seen it before, and if it were her in your situation, she wouldn't want everyone knowing either. And you proceed to completely zone out.

Too many thoughts swarm your head. Minho. The Flare. The state of your immunity. Who this guy is and how the fuck you're going to actually find the Right Arm.

That's a lot of ground to cover.

So, obviously, you steal a car. Marcus' car, to be more precise.

Bastard deserved it.

You all squeeze in the car, and you're stuck between Minho and Aris. Normally, being this close to Minho would send your brain foggy and have you blushing, but your body is literally rotting from the inside out.

The sickness set in pretty early into the car ride. Then the sweating and fever followed. You're struggling to keep your head up, which is less than ideal when you're trying to act completely normal.

But at least you're not walking.

So, you're less than pleased when you have to stop due to a pile of cars in the road.

You try your best to keep going, but everything everyone's saying is like static in your ears. Everything hurts, and it's a good thing Minho is paying attention when the gunshots start.

He yanks you behind a car with him and Newt - and he's not the only one noticing your state as Newt looks at you.

"What's wrong with her?" Newt asks, like you're not even there despite the current circumstances of being shot at.

"I don't know." Minho says bluntly, eyes scanning you as you lean back against the vehicle.

"You don't think-"

"Slim it, Newt," Minho snaps, "I don't wanna think."

"I'm fine," you say, adjusting yourself. "Just shucked up my ankle, that's all."

"Come on, get up! Up!" You jump out of your skin at the voices of two girls breaking your static state.

Who apparently knows Aris.

Small world, I guess.

Sonya and Harriet lead you through the mountains, shoving you into another set of vehicles and leading you to the Right Arm base camp.

By this point, the world is a blur and direction doesn't matter to you. You're just absent mindedly stumbling in the direction of sound and blurred images of your friends.

You hear Minho say something, touching your wrist but you yank yourself away as it feels like you've been burnt.

Harriet and Sonya introduce you to Vince, whose name you don't even catch.

He gives some speech about checking for infection and how he doesn't trust you all.

And that's when your body caves in and you hit the floor.

"Shit! (Y/N)!" Minho snaps, diving forward to catch you. His knees hit the floor, pulling your upper half onto his lap. He moves strands of hair out of your face - your eyes are sunken, and your face is sweaty, your eyes involuntarily rolling back into their sockets repeatedly as you desperately try to regain soke kind of control.

His heart sinks into his stomach. He knew. He knew something was wrong, and he just let it slide because you said so. And now look at you, crumpled on the floor, unable to breathe. You're seriously ill, and he did nothing to help.

"What's wrong with her?" Vince asks as the Gladers swarm you.

"What's wrong?" Frypan asks. "Minho? What happened?"

"I-I, I don't know," Minho stutters out, "I don't know."

The Gladers repeat your name and the world spirals around you. You look up at the boy who's cradling you.

This is it. This is how you die.

Minho's looking at someone else, his blurred face trying to make sense of everything. You reach out, your fingers brushing against his face - which is easier said than done with the awkward angle and your weak arms.

"Thanks, Minho," you whisper as he looks down at you. "You were always my favourite."

"Shit!" Vince snaps, making Minho jump out of his skin. Vince has moved the piece of cloth from your ankle, revealing the bite in your leg. "She's infected!"

The crowd swarms away as Vince pulls a gun out. Minho tries to shield you, shouting something you can't make out.

He's yanked away by some Right Arm members, fanatically trying to break free.

The Gladers, along with Brenda and Jorge beg for your life.

"Please," Thomas begs, "we can do something- can't you help her?"

"Yeah, I can put her out of her misery," Vince points the gun at your dying body.

"No!" Minho screeches. "Don't! Please! Don't!"

"Stop!" An unfamiliar voice says. "Let him go! Now. What's going on here?"

A woman, Mary, walks over, forcing the men to let Minho free.

"She's infected - we can't help her." Vince explains.

"No, but he can," she smiles at the boy, "hello, Thomas."

Everyone is left confused, but Minho is too busy on the floor by your body again.

Mary explains how she knows Thomas, and that he can make you better again, even just for a little while.

"Get your girlfriend up," she says to Minho, "come on, we'll help her."

"She's not my girlfriend," Minho huffs, slipping his arms under yours and pulling you up, before picking you up bridle style.

Mary looks at him, smirking. "Are you sure?"

He looks at Thomas who simply shrugs.

They follow Mary into the medical tent, Minho lays you on the bed, taking a seat on the far side as he gently plays with your hand. She sets up her equipment and takes blood from Thomas.

"Minho's also from the Maze - couldn't you take his blood?" The boy asks.

Mary sighs. "Well, I'm sure you know by now that not everyone from the Mazes was immune. And I don't know the status of your friends. But I know you are because we used to work closely. Minho's blood might work, but I'm not willing to risk waiting."

It makes sense, and Minho doesn't care about that.

She injects your arm with the serum. She rubs Minho's shoulder. "She should be awake soon. We'll leave you be." She gives him a reassuring smile. "Come on, Thomas. Let's give them some space."

She walks out the tent, but Thomas lingers for a second.

"Did you know?" Minho asks. "Did you know she got bit?"

Thomas simply shakes his head. "No, but I think Brenda did. She didn't seem as shocked." Minho doesn't bother looking at his friend, he just stares at you. "She's gonna be alright, yanno."

"Yeah, but for how long? It doesn't last forever." (Little does he know)

Thomas settles into a silence before sucking in a deep breath. "You love her."

"What?" Minho snaps to finally look at his friend.

"You love her, don't you?"

Minho's jaw tightens, his eyelids fluttering. He opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out, so he rubs his face with his hands instead.

"You love Teresa," Minho retorts, taking the pressure off himself.

Thomas scoffs. "Yeah - but at least I can admit it."

Minho presses his lips into a thin line. He doesn't exactly like being called out like that.

Thomas exits the tent, leaving him with you.

He looks at you. "He's right, yanno," he mumbles to himself. "I do shuckin' love you. How shucked is that? I've known you for less than a week, and I..." He trails off, not really sure how to put it into words, even just to himself.

So, instead, he leans forward, placing a kiss to your forehead.

Though, he did not expect your eyes to be open when he pulled back. Your eyes flutter, looking up at him. You smile.

"Hi."

"Hey," he chuckles, sitting back in his seat. "You scared the klunk outta me, yanno that?"

"I didn't mean to." You groan, trying to sit up. Your body still feels messed up and groggy, but it's still a massive relief.

"Woah, hey," he shakes his head, pushing you back down. "Take it easy, shank. You nearly died today."

"Yeah, well, it's not like that's anything new."

He glares at you, and you chuckle.

"What did you mean earlier?" He asks after a brief pause.

"Hm?"

"You said I was your favourite," you cringe at that detail. "And you said thank you. For what?"

"For everything," you respond simply. "You looked out for me, so..."

"That wasn't anything special."

"It was to me."

You turn on your side, resting on your arm as you look at him. There's something behind Minho's expression that you can't quite read as be stares at you. It fades as quickly as it came though when he resorts back to his sarcastic ways.

"So, am I really your favourite? Because you seem to like Frypan's food a bit too much."

"What? Fry's cooking is good - you shanks just act too high-and-mighty to appreciate his hard work." Minho fiegns offence, dramatically gasping and putting his hand to his chest.

"Hm, I don't know, there's definitely some favouritism going on there-"

"Slim it," you snort, before dropping your gaze and suddenly becoming serious. "You're my favourite, Minho. You always have been."

He struggles to fight the smirk that crosses his face. "But, I guess I'm yours too, eh?" You grin. "Since you love me, and all."

Minho freezes completely, his face dropping. He blankly stares at you for a good few seconds.

"Ah, shuck," you burst out laughing as his face turns red, his hands coming to cover himself and his embarrassment. "So, you heard me..?"

"Yep, I heard."

"Right, yep, cool - shucking brilliant."

You smile. You've just had a near death experience, so an accidental love confession really isn't fazing you at all. Sitting up, it hurts but you don't care as you throw your legs over the side so you're sitting directly in front of him.

You pull his hands away from his face, taking them in your own. His eyes meet yours and you smile at him. Leaning in, you kiss him on the cheek.

"I love you, too," you mutter, almost into him as you only pull away a bit. He scoffs, and it looks like he's about to say something but his words fail him.

So, he decides to do something else instead. He presses his lips to yours and you immediately kiss him back.

It's short and sweet, and you're both smiling as you part.

"I'm so relieved you're okay," he mumbles.

"I'm always gonna be okay," you kiss the tip of his nose. "I've got you looking after me."

Another cute piece for my main boy.

Requests might be lacking for a bit since I'm away for the next few days but I'm gonna see what I can do.

I hope you enjoyed :))

[marchtothefuckingsea]

Nerve Pains - Lucifer

My Masterlist.

Word count: 2.2k Warnings:  Fibromyalgia flare-up. Symptoms can vary from person to person, this was just a little comfort fic for myself since i’ve been feeling really shitty lately lol

Summary:  Reader suffers from a bad Fibromyalgia flare-up. Usually, Castiel is there to help relieve their pain, but this time there's only one other angel in the bunker.

I sat at the library table in the bunker, letting out a strained sigh while flexing my hands and straightening my back. It did little, if anything, to ease the constant pain I had. My back and shoulders ached horribly, no matter what I did or what I took. Especially on days when it decided to flare up.

I shifted in my seat as a particularly sharp pain ran into my shoulder, holding back a groan.

I hated being forced to stay back on hunts like this. Sam and Dean knew that, but they also knew me well enough by now that I wouldn't admit it. They could tell when I was experiencing a flare up, and they usually told me that they needed someone to do research and report back to them while they went on the scene. I knew they were just making excuses, but it made me feel a little less guilty about it and I appreciated them for it.

Oftentimes though, it was frustrating more than anything else. Especially simple cases like the salt and burn they were on right now. They didn't need someone to 'stay back and do research' on something as common as a ghost, and I just had to admit defeat. Even they couldn't come up with an excuse this time.

With Sam and Dean gone, and Chuck off doing only Chuck knows what, Lucifer was the only other one in the bunker, but he was off sulking in another part of the bunker. No one had heard from Cas for over a week now, so we figured he was wrapped up in something heaven related; which was unfortunate for me because he was usually around to help relieve the pain on especially bad days like this.

Nobody knew why, not even Cas, but my chronic pain was something he couldn't heal. He could relieve the pain almost completely for an hour, sometimes several if it wasn't really bad, but never get rid of it completely. It even seemed sometimes that it was working less and less every time.

Even with a literal angel helping me, it was still just something I had to deal with.

All I wanted to do was curl up in my bed under a heated blanket and not come out until it was all over. This was one of my worst flare ups in months. Since Sam and Dean had left a day ago, I had already tried praying to Castiel several times. I usually didn't want to bother him, but I was desperate.

I slumped over the table with my head on my tingling arms. My entire body tensed up as another pain ran through me. I eyed the bottle of painkillers next to the lamp, but I knew I had probably already taken way more than I should have. Instead, I closed my eyes and tried to focus on my breathing.

I managed to relax until I heard undisguised footsteps enter the library. I raised my head to glare at the archangel in the doorway. "What do you want?"

"Just passing through, no need to be so hostile." He made a face and held his hands up in defense. He beelined for a certain shelf, and so I allowed myself to let my guard down partially. I returned my eyes back to the pages of the book I was reading, but had a hard time focusing on anything other than the pain.

The thought of asking Lucifer to heal me flitted into my mind but I immediately dismissed it. Maybe he would or maybe he wouldn't, but my pride wouldn't allow me that, even on my worst day.

I glanced up at him when he sat across from me, arching a brow. "What?"

"What?" Lucifer responded defensively. He flipped the book open and crossed his legs. I pinched the bridge of my nose briefly before returning back to my book. My leg bounced to distract me from the numb yet burning sensation that intensified in my feet and calves. I had found that keeping my limbs moving helped either distract me from the pain, or maybe it kept the blood flowing through them. I didn't know.

I sighed after I finished a chapter, releasing some tension from my muscles I didn't even know I had. I flexed my hand again before turning the page, watching Lucifer do the same out of the corner of my eye. Glancing at him curiously, I wondered why he seemed to want to just be in the room with someone else. Usually, it was him that left whenever one of the Winchesters or Chuck came into the room. On the other hand, now that I thought about it, that never seemed to apply to me. But he had never actively seeked my presence before. I averted my gaze back to the book.

Now that I knew he wasn't here just to cause trouble, I finally let myself relax. Unclenching my jaw, I took a deep breath that turned into a hiss when a feeling akin to being stabbed burned through my arm. I jerked, instinctively pulling my arm to my chest and cradling it. I tried to focus on my breathing as the after effects still burned through my nerves.

"What's wrong?" Lucifer asked, looking up from his book. I had completely forgotten about the angel's presence.

"Nothing." I replied through gritted teeth. I let go of my arm and tried my best to shake it off, but my hand still gripped the edge of my sleeve so hard that I could feel my fingernails through the fabric.

He straightened up in his chair, suddenly not so interested in his book anymore; which I realized was written in Enochian. Where did he even find that?

"You've been clenching and unclenching your hands for the past half hour." He began to count on his fingers.

"Bouncing your legs, flinching randomly, now this." He swept his hand towards me, making me self-consciously loosen my grip on my sleeve. "I could sense your misery as soon as I entered the room."

"I'm sure you've noticed me doing that before." I shrugged it off but frowned. I felt exposed. I didn't like feeling like that ever, let alone to the devil.

"Not constantly." He argued. "What's up with you?"

"Nothing." I growled. "Why do you care so much anyway?"

"I don't. I'm just tired of this whole," He made a disgusted face. "Aura around you. It's a real downer, y'know?"

"Then leave." I muttered. He pursed his lips, staring at me silently before he picked his book back up. I let out a sigh of relief and reached for mine. I stopped dead in my tracks when another sharp pain was triggered by the movement, this one even worse than the last. I uttered a low groan, practically panting as it traveled all the way from my fingertips to my shoulder. Everything seemed to ramp it up a notch at that moment.

"Tell me what's wrong." Lucifer demanded.

"It's nothing you can fix." I grunted, beginning to squeeze and massage my forearm with my other hand. It only helped a little.

"Let me." He reached for my arm and before I could pull away, his cool hands began to massage my arm. Against my will, my whole body almost instantly relaxed. Cold usually made the pain worse, but I had a feeling he was using his grace as well. For the first time ever, my pain was entirely gone .

When he released my arm, I was greeted back with open arms by the deep ache in my back and shoulders, a migraine, and the painfully familiar tingling sensation in my limbs. My body immediately tensed up again. I saw something flicker across his face when I cringed.

"Just a taste of what I can do. Though…" He trailed off, frowning. "You're right. I can't heal it."

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Cas already tried that."

"What is wrong with you?" His question wasn't meant to sound accusing; it was genuine.

"Fibromyalgia." I answered, massaging my own arm. He leaned across the table now, crossing his arms. He hummed in acknowledgement, looking down at the table and drumming his fingers.

His eyes darted back up to me when I unconsciously clenched my fist at another jab.

"May I?" He asked. I nodded wordlessly, holding my hand out to him. Instead, he stood from his chair and rounded the table to sit in a chair beside me. I unconsciously leaned away from him and his closeness. He placed his palm on my forehead and immediately the pain lessened.

"Thank you."

He hummed before asking, "How long does this usually last?"

I frowned and looked away. "A while." I didn't want to tell him that it only lasted a few hours at most, and that was on much better days. On days as painful as today it might last a couple of hours, if I was lucky.

"You've got to tell me so I know how long before we have to do this again."

"Don't worry about it." I mumbled. "The pills will kick in by the time this wears off."

He snatched the bottle before I could get to it. "I think you've had enough of those."

"Give it back."

"They're obviously not working. You're going to overdose."

"What do you care?"

"I helped you, didn't I?"

"So?"

"So? I care ." He pursed his lips after that, crossing his arms in front of his chest defensively and looking away.

"...A couple hours." I said in defeat. He glanced back at me. "On a good day it would probably last four, maybe five. On a bad day it would last a couple, if I'm lucky."

"And today's a bad day." It wasn't a question.

I shook my head. "Yes- No..I don't know. It's the worst I've had in a long time, if ever." I admitted.

"You're still bouncing your leg." He pointed out.

"It still kind of hurts."

Before I could react, he pressed his palm to my forehead again. This time, he kept it there until I began to pull away in confusion. "Wait."

Suddenly, the pain was completely gone again. When he pulled his hand away after several moments, his piercing eyes studied my face. I immediately felt it return, but it wasn't nearly as bad as before he had helped at all.

"As long as I'm touching you…" He muttered.

"Yeah, it was gone completely." I let out a breath I didn't know I had been holding in. "I think I'm going to try and get some sleep before this wears off."

Lucifer nodded, standing up and mirroring my actions. I stumbled a little bit, the room spinning. Probably from all the painkillers I had taken. "I'll check back in a couple hours."

"I'll come find you if I need to."

He frowned. "I promise?" I offered.

"Don't wait too long." He turned away. He sat back at the table in the same position as before, with his legs crossed and his thumb and index finger holding the book open. I gave him a final glance before I left the room and ventured down the hallway to my bedroom.

I was lucky I had another bottle of painkillers in my bedside drawer, and I downed a couple of them before collapsing onto the bed. I didn't plan on asking him for help again, no matter how bad it got. I had toughed it out before, and I could do it again.

Curling up under my heated blanket, I let out a small sigh of relief. What little bit of discomfort that remained was just about bearable.

-

I was woken up by a sharp pain between my shoulder blades and the middle of my back. I curled up on my side with a low whine. Even the light pressure of my sheets began to feel painful against my skin, and I started to kick them off. Every nerve ending in my body was nearly on fire.

"Lucifer." I groaned in a daze. I hoped it resembled a prayer enough for him to hear. My breath hitched in my throat at another agonizing jab. "Luci-"

I felt a cool hand on my forehead and the pain immediately stopped. I forced my eyes open and the archangel was sitting on the edge of my bed with unmasked concern on his face. "It hasn't even been two hours."

"Sorry." I mumbled.

"That's not what I meant." He said. "You shouldn't be alone."

"'m fine." Lucifer pulled his hand away. Even though he had used his grace to relieve my pain, without his constant touch it immediately came back, though it wasn't nearly as bad. He quickly made contact again, this time holding my hand gently in both of his, as if I would break.

"I think this is the worst it's ever been."

I felt the bed dip next to me, and then I felt him up against my side. I opened my eyes. "What are you-"

"You know what happens if I let go." He muttered. I did.

I leaned against him with a sigh. When I began to drift off, I felt Lucifer drape his arm across my middle.

"You don't have to stay if you don't want to." I told him tiredly.

"I want to."

[feeblescholarmyass]

I Hope Winter Feels Like a Heated Blanket and a Kiss on the Forehead (Alternatively: Seasonal Depression)

inspired by this post by @/cowgirlrising

tags: Dazai x Reader, Dazai has seasonal depression, depression symptoms, 2nd pov, reader comforts Dazai

a/n: I did way to much research to understand how electric fireplaces work for a 900 word fic, worked through burnout for that one sweet anon who asked for more Dazai x reader content. here you go, and thank you for appreciating my work!

He knew winter only as bleak, cold, and empty. On winter days, the loneliness stings a little more, the hunger aches a little more, and the heart longs a little more. It longs for the past, it longs for a future that is impossible. It longs for people long gone, it longs for a source of comfort amidst the blizzard of time that breaths against the neck of its victims. It longs for a hand to pull him out of the snowdrift. It longs for warmth.

He knew how to ignore the ache well. Loneliness was no stranger. Hunger was a constant companion. The heart had no place to feel ever more acutely just because the days were shorter and the nights were colder.

There was no cure for what ailed him. Even the temporary fixes started losing their edge after time. Everything always returned to cold. It was the cycle of life, really. We are all born to die. He had accepted that long ago.

Winter stained everything gray-blue; the color seeped into everything that it touched. Every sense in his body dulled to that same drabby color. Nothing tasted strong enough, nothing looked bright enough, nothing sounded loud enough. Nothing could warm the ice that coated his bones. Even the winter sakura blossoms didn't smell as strong as they should.

He sat miserably one your floor, fully aware that he *should* move and grab something to keep him warm, but he simply couldn't manage to get up. The effort it would take seemed insurmountable to him. So he continued being miserable and cold and empty. There was no point in warmth.

The sound of the door opening registered long after it reached his ears. He almost sat up to make sure it was you (it always was, but he liked to be sure), but didn't have the energy.

He was numb. Too numb to jump up and wrap his arms around you enthusiastically, like he normally would. His bones were frozen in place and his heart was covered in frost, slowing his heartbeat to almost non-existent.

He heard when you called out his name, but he couldn't muster a response. A small, awful part of him hoped you would turn around and leave him to die of the cold. That way he wouldn't have to worry about the way he knew your touch would burn. The pitiful look you would give him would sear him from the inside out, and that sounded more painful than hypothermia to his frigid mind.

Your voice calling out his name echoed in his mind. It sounded the same as someone whispering in a vast cave. Though quiet, the vibrations bounced against each and every crevice of his mind, both full and empty at the same time.

“Osamu,” You called out. Ah, my name. It's my name being called, he realized after a moment. They are looking for me.

He thought about rising, but even the thought of the effort it would take to sit up and smile at you drained all that was left in his body.

Oh, just leave me to wither and die, he begged in his mind. I'm ready to freeze over.

He closed his eyes, unwilling to see the inevitable pity he despised fill your eyes. The thought of being pitied made him wish the ice would spread faster.

“It's freezing in here,” you commented. He listened to your footsteps move from the door to the fireplace in front of him. He heard the click of the gas starting, and then the thrum of heat as the sparks caught fire.

He heard you stand and pause, finally seeing him. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter. Don't look at me, don't look at me, don't look at me.

The fire hurt. His fingers and toes burned from the sudden rise in temperature. His cheeks stung and goosebumps covered his skin. What was worse, he just knew you were looking at him with that sad expression he hated so much. Someone as stunning as you should never be sad, it was unbecoming of such loveliness.

The couch cushions shifted behind his head. You gently pulled him into your lap, allowing him to rest his cheek against your thighs. Normally he would have been ecstatic, but now he felt more embarrassed. You knew, and it was humiliating. He shouldn't be acting so pathetic, especially not in front of his dear partner.

Oh, but the feeling of you pulling your fingers through his hair and gently combing out the knots, massaging his scalp gently was so nice. This is why he loved you; you always knew exactly what he needed.

“How about I make something nice for dinner and we can watch movies together tonight? Keep your mind distracted and body warm. Does that sound nice?” You asked. Just the thought made him want to sob. Yes, that sounded amazing.

He nodded, pressing his face into your skin, feeling his control seep back into his body. Winter’s icy tendrils were losing their grip on him. They never really lost their grip, but he had more wiggle room again. He had the space to feel almost himself again when he was with you.

“I love you,” he whispered. You smiled down at him and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“I love you, too. Now how about we get up and you help me start peeling the potatoes?”

reblogs and/or comments are much appreciated!

by @feeblescholarmyass on tumblr

[doberbutts]

Thank you for talking about the “able to get to the door but unable to stay inside” thing re:stimulation. My issues are less severe than yours were (creates chronic fatigue instead of severe meltdowns) but it’s kinda the first time I’ve heard anyone discuss them as a legitimate disabling barrier. I still have this “if I just try hard enough” mentality that I’m trying to overcome, and it helps to have someone else go “no, this is a real problem.”

Honestly the brain injury really opened my eyes because I do have ADD and had childhood epilepsy (been seizure-free since I was 8 tho) so we were somewhat conscious about sensory stuff but a lot of it was like. Okay every once in a while you will touch something that is Bad Texture and you will scrub your skin raw about it for the next couple of hours. Annoying repeating sounds fade into the background for you but God Forbid anyone talks while you're concentrating because now they've ruined everything. You'd rather starve than put Tastes Bad into your mouth and have gone to bed with hunger pains many times as a result. etc etc etc for me it wasn't so disabling but largely that was due to my mom knowing how to manage my symptoms and teaching me from a very young age how to cope.

And then with the seizures my major warning sign was a colossal headache that refused to go away which was a sign to go lay down somewhere quiet and dark for a few hours until it passed or else a lightning storm would happen in my skull :D

But the brain injury... that really upset everything. Which is commonly reported, when I was finally able to speak I told my neurologist that I felt like a completely different person and not in a good way and he said that most TBI survivors have said this.

Honestly the best way I can describe it is that. Hmm. Imagine... your TV is too loud. When I say too loud I mean like. It hurts to be in the same room as the TV, it's bordering on the edge of so loud that it makes you physically take a step back. When the TBI first happened, that was any and every stimulus to my senses. My clothes touching my skin was Too Loud. Tasting my food was Too Loud. The ambient light coming from my window was Too Loud. And so on and so forth. Because there was an actual damaged piece of my brain, it was really struggling to parse any more information than "oh, no, ow, make that stop".

I wore blacked out glasses inside because I couldn't stand to keep my eyes open otherwise. I would ask my roommates to whisper several rooms down if they were going to talk to each other or on the phone because even just hearing their footsteps was like someone was taking a hammer to my forehead. I was usually naked because the feel of my shirt against my back would set me off. There's a lot I can't remember from that time but I remember being so frustrated as I hid under my covers from the light and the ambient noise of living with a bunch of people and their pets that "trying harder" and "pushing through" honestly just made everything worse.

It's a lot better now. It'll be 5 years in July. But every once in a while something will still set me off and I will be back in that place, frustrated with myself as I feel my brain hurtling towards a Very Loud Meltdown that I cannot get to stop.

I just don't appreciate being told that it's somehow lesser because my legs work. Especially considering TBIs are so common, and they happen so fast. All it takes is one good knock on the head and then you'll be just like me.

[trashbag-baby666]

Everyone’s going to have to deal with my brain rot but here’s some Brady/Ham HC’s <3 likes and reblogs highly appreciated!!!

MOTA Masterlist!

•Hambone grew up with just him and his mom. His father dipped when he was too young to remember. Although he tries to make half assed appearances.

•A true mommas boy!

•He fr has abandonment/rejection issues because of his father…

•He also has an extensive amount of anger issues. Especially when he was kid.

•He would get into fights at the playground…that’s how he ended up with the gold teeth…

•He literally pushed Brady off of the monkey bars at recess on his first day and broke his arm.

•The next day he sat next to Brady at lunch and signed his cast.

•“why are you signing my cast when you’re the one who made me need it?”

• “signing my work, duh”

•Best friends from that day on.

•Hams got fucked up teeth okay? He’s had braces through most of middle school and all of high school.

•When he gets his braces tightened Brady brings him soft food for the couple days of pain.

•He has an orange cat named Garfield

•internalized homophobia…that’s all I gotta say…

•Ham tends to pent up his emotions and just not talk about them.

•His coping technique? Showing up at Brady’s at ungodly hours of the night to have sex with him.

•Now for Brady he grew up in a house of all women. he has two moms and three little sisters. He’s a little girly pop, okay?

•Brady is a rich boy but it’s kinda on the down low. His family lives in the same neighborhood as the Clevens if that tells you anything.

•Brady has OCD and Ham really is the first one to notice that all these symptoms have been growing and piling.

•Ham urges him to tell his moms about it because it got to a point where he couldn’t manage and suppress it anymore.

•After he’s diagnosed it was hard for awhile because he felt so weak about it. He made Hambone promise not to tell anyone about it.

•He’s on a cocktail of SSRI’s and it took five ever to find the right mixture for him.

•Brady’s true passion in life is to become a fashion designer. He always dresses himself well and accessorizes with lots of gold jewelry.

•He makes Hambone model the clothes he makes.

•See, their relationship is highly complicated…Gale is the only one who knows the extent of their mess of a situationship. (Gale and Brady work together at a local grocery store.)

•Ham is lowkey kinda toxic to Brady for a hot moment…his communication skills are shit and he doesn’t know how to manage his emotions.

•There’s one night that curved their relationship I’ll def be writing about later…

•When Ham finally comes to his senses about his feelings he flat out asks Brady out while they’re cuddling together.

•"brady will you be my boyfriend."

•"yeah of course dumbass, aren't i already at this point? idiot.”

•They sealed the deal with a kiss.

•They kept their relationship private for months until Prom rolled around.

•They rolled up to the function in matching cheetah print blazers Brady made them and cool sunglasses.

•When Bubbles comes over to take their picture for the year book. Brady grabs Ham by the lapels of the blazer and smashes his lips into his.

•Bubbles literally goes 😮 behind the camera and pushes the shutter button.

•Bubbles runs to tell Croz.

•Croz goes and tells John.

• John rushes over to Gale and literally out loud goes “Did you know Ham and Brady were dating!?”

•Gale smirks because he already knew.

-

-

Brought to you by me, @ihearteugeneroe , and @mangokitkats

[zeke-in-devildom]

Dissonance - Chapter 26: Wrathful Hearts

The relief was almost immediate. Zeke felt his shoulders sag slightly the moment the cool Devildom night air hit him, releasing a tension even he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He could still hear the pounding music inside the club, but mercifully his body no longer felt like it vibrated through every one of his frayed nerve endings. The throbbing behind his eyes even subsided into a dull ache. 

It wasn’t a complete respite, however. Taking a deep breath of fresh air caused a twinge of pain in his chest, and before thinking about it Zeke had raised a hand to rub tenderly at the phantom wound that had not yet been sustained. How could possible futures cause him actual pain? Before coming to the Devildom his abilities had certainly caused him plenty of issues, but never like this. All his difficulties had been regulated firmly to his own mind and  the ignorance of the non-magical and mundane aspects of human society. He did not like these new developments.

There had to be a way to control this better.

“Are you alright? Does it hurt?” Satan’s concerned voice reminded him that he needed to keep his head firmly in the here and now. Zeke let his eyes flutter closed, brow furrowing as he brought his focus sharply to the present and away from distant futures that might never come. He used the warmth of the arm around his waist, holding him protectively, to anchor himself to what was real. 

“I’m okay. It’s just the stress of midterms, deadlines, and being outed. I’m exhausted.” All reasonable excuses and all true enough, but Zeke didn’t want to deal with the visions or try to explain them or how they were evolving. A part of him did consider telling Satan just to spite Barbatos and the butler’s warning to keep them to himself. The more reasonable part of him knew that there was no reason to stress or sadden the brothers with something they couldn’t actually help change or control. He would figure this out on his own.

“Excessive stress can cause many troubling symptoms in humans. If your stress has reached a level that you’re in physical pain perhaps we need to find a way to address that. As much as I hate to ask Lucifer for anything, I’m sure he could arrange for your school workload to be reduced if it is causing your physical health to deteriorate.” It was sweet, how attentive and worried Satan could get. 

“It’s fine, Satan. Midterms are over, my publisher has the final draft of my next book, and we can’t really change that everyone knows who I am now. I’m sure I’ll feel better if I just get a little rest.” He had only managed to get one halfway decent night of sleep since before midterms started, and that had only been thanks to Belphie’s intervention.

“Then I will make sure my idiotic brothers don’t bother you with their inane nonsense over the weekend.” It was adorable how very serious Satan could get, and he could appreciate the Avatar of Wrath’s sentiments. The brothers did tend to try to drag him everywhere and include him in everything all of the time. Zeke honestly appreciated that too. Satan himself had taken him to plenty of museums and art galleries since he had arrived. Still, being pulled in so many directions constantly was exhausting.

“My hero.” Zeke let a satisfied smile tug the corners of his mouth upwards as he watched the Avatar of Wrath’s cheeks flush a pretty shade of pink. 

“You’re too cheeky for a human.” Satan huffed, but his hand stayed against Zeke’s lower back as he guided the way back towards the House of Lamentation. For his part, Zeke was more than happy to walk in silence, close enough to feel the heat radiating off the demon beside him. Despite what he had said to Asmo in the club, he couldn’t help but gravitate towards Satan even if he knew it was foolish. Just getting to be this close to him would have to be enough, that was what he told himself, but deep down he knew that was a blatant lie.

He tried to distract himself by observing his surroundings. The lesser demons on the street gave a wide berth to the pair, none wanting to provoke the ire of Satan. Zeke could see the hunger radiating off many of them, they would gladly rip him to pieces in a heartbeat if he wasn’t with one of the brothers. It was a sober reminder that he was a sheep among wolves, helpless without one of his guardians. Except those guardians were also wolves. Every logical thing told him that he didn’t belong here.

Too bad the heart rarely listened to logic. All the visions of the future suggested that he would die sooner rather than later. Even if he lived to be old, it was nothing to them. Why did his gut tell him he was exactly where he was supposed to be when all the evidence was to the contrary? 

Zeke sighed and turned his attention away from the streets and up towards the Devildom sky. He could see the stars so clearly here, there was too much light pollution in the city he lived to actually see the stars in the human world. They reached the gates of the House of Lamentation. There was something particularly enchanting about the Devildom moon. It was hauntingly beautiful. He stopped walking so that he could stare up at it, feeling Satan stop beside him.

“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?” The words left him without his consent, but he couldn’t find it in him to be upset about it either. Did Satan even know the significance of the words? Zeke could tell that the demon had fixed that intense emerald gaze on him, as he did so often when they were together, but he didn’t turn to look at him. He could imagine Levi absolutely losing it if he’d heard it. The otaku would have had a full-on nerd out, if he didn’t blue screen. That was actually an amusing thought. Except that was not something he would have ever said to Levi. Or any of the others for that matter. 

The silence stretched between them. 

“I can die happy.” Zeke felt his heart stutter as Satan’s normally smooth voice came out hushed and a little breathless. Of course Satan would know. Also leave it to Satan to give the most direct response possible. He liked that about him. Even if Zeke couldn’t read auras, he knew that the fourth born was not one to mince his words when it came to his feelings, unlike some of his other brothers. 

A warm hand brushed against his, Zeke finally turning to look at Satan as their fingers intertwined. He was surprised to see the familiar curling black horns of Satan’s demon form. Those green eyes were gleaming, full of starlight as they gazed at him with the softest, most adoring look - one he had thought only reserved for all the stray cats that the demon loved to feed. When something hard and cold curled loosely around his waist Zeke didn’t have to glance down to know that it was Satan’s armor plated tail.

“I’m only human.” They were being illogical. Satan had no good reason to care for him this much.

“I don’t care.” Zeke felt his heart flutter traitorously in his chest as Satan raised his free hand to cup his face tenderly.

“I’m not going to be here very long.” This could never last.

“All the more reason to take advantage of the time we have.” Zeke closed his eyes as he felt Satan press their foreheads together gently, careful of his horns. 

“Fuck it.” The moment he felt Satan’s lips brush against his, the entirety of the three realms faded away. The kiss was perfect. It was tender and sensual, Satan’s lips were warm and surprisingly soft, and they slotted against his like they were made to be there. 

Zeke really was only human, how could he possibly resist the temptation of a demon? Whatever the future might be, right now all he wanted was to be with Satan. Maybe that was selfish when he knew it could only end in tragedy, but he desperately wanted to be selfish this time.

The world came rushing back when the kiss finally ended, Zeke wasn’t sure if it had been a few seconds or a few minutes, but they were both breathing heavily. It was good to know the demon was as affected as he was. He enjoyed how flushed Satan’s handsome face was, and how his pupils were blown wide with desire. There was a sense of pride there, he, a lowly human, had the Avatar of Wrath wanting him.

“Make a pact with me.” The words flew from Zeke’s mouth, like the confession it felt so right that he couldn’t control his own voice. All of the brothers had offered him their pacts, all but Satan, but it was Satan’s he wanted most of all.

Rather than words, his demon responded by moving his hand from Zeke’s jaw to grasp the back of his neck and forcefully pull him back into another, deeper kiss. A low growl rumbled through Satan’s chest, which Zeke was now pressed flush against as his mouth opened, their tongues tangling together. One of his hands had found its way into blond hair, twisting the messy strands between his fingers and giving gentle tugs as he tried to pull Satan impossibly closer.

A shock of infernal magic wove around them, he could feel the now familiar tingle racing across his tongue, his piercing clacking briefly against a sharp fang as a faint coppery taste blended with the tang of demonus that lingered on Satan’s tongue. He felt taloned fingers dig just a little harder into his neck, and realized that the Avatar of Wrath was squeezing over Lucifer’s mark. His heart ached as he realized the jealousy and insecurity that Satan was feeling as Lucifer’s mark had been placed first. Zeke bit the demon’s bottom lip to distract him, which must have worked because the grip on his neck loosened immediately.

Bracing himself for the next part he wondered for only a moment where Satan’s pact mark would etch itself into his flesh. The sudden burning sensation over his heart seemed so obvious in retrospect. That was the only fitting place for the mark of Wrath to sit. He broke the kiss so that he could bury his face against the side of Satan’s neck, sagging against his beautiful demon as the infernal magic dispersed, seemingly taking most of his energy with it. Forging the pacts was always so draining.

Strong arms wrapped around him, holding him close for the time being, both just basking in the afterglow of the kiss and the new pact. Zeke didn’t know exactly how long they stood there, but eventually he felt Satan pull away. He missed how warm he was, but not for long, because suddenly his feet were off the ground as Satan picked him up, cradling him like a princess from one of the demon’s cheesy romance novels. If it was anyone else he’d have been indignant about being carried, but he was feeling just tired and sappy enough to allow it. 

They ended up curled up on one of the library sofas in front of the fireplace, Zeke sprawled out on Satan’s chest while the demon quietly read aloud, holding the book with one hand and gently running the other through Zeke’s hair soothingly until they both eventually fell asleep.

[amour-de-tous]

🎶 It's that time of year 🎶

Where I make a fundraising plea that, hopefully, I will someday not need to make. Short of it: My SSI disability decision is ~ongoing~. The judge gave me the option of applying for another hearing to introduce new medical evidence (have had several new doctors visits/tests), which she would grant "if she did not intend to rule fully favourable". She granted the new hearing, which means she planned to deny (again). So still waiting on SSI. Still unemployed (since early 2019) with no way to make any income at all. Had a fall in early October that exacerbated existing medical conditions and seems to have precipitated some new ones (new types of pain in my ribs and stomach that have not gone away) and is making even menial tasks like showering, making food, and even just sitting up almost impossible for the last few months. I have spent a lot of time unable to leave my bed. My mother and caretaker had a very scary medical event happen in early December that incapacitated her for a while and made things like laundry not even able to be done for some time. It was a cancer scare and it was extremely stressful (the tests have come back clear but she is still experiencing symptoms). There have been so many medical expenses for me lately, just to try and manage pain (hundreds and hundreds spent on CBD, sleep aids, accessibility aids, masks so I can at least attempt to be safe at necessary medical appointments, the list goes on and on). Even groceries are more expensive because with my immunocompromised status we still can't go into a store, and curbside is more expensive and charges fees. My whole Dental Situation is ongoing; my implant is in but I need one more oral surgery and then the actual tooth. That will be at least $2k yet, and I will cross that bridge when I schedule that (it was supposed to happen in July, but I flared so hard I couldn't get out of bed so that did not happen). All of this to say: friends, if you can send me anything, I would greatly appreciate it. I know I keep saying "this year was really hard", but by talos this year was really hard. :\ Hoping that, someday soon, I can be the one helping other folks out again. As always, please use friends and family so paypal doesn't take fees out. Writing it without the . because tumblr hates links: paypal DOT me/CNMsmiles

[megalony]

Look at us- Part 4

Here is the next part in this new Henry Cavill series, I hope everyone will like it, feedback is always appreciated.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez-blog @jonesyaddiction @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me  @hellsdragon @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh @onceuponadetectivedemigod @ceres27 @avyannadawn @dreaming-about-fanfictions @afro-hispwriter​  

Masterlist

Summary: After losing a baby a few months ago, (Y/n) is still suffering horrible back pains that she needs strong painkillers to manage. But she has to be okay and in control to look after her family and she knows she is relying too much on pills to gain back her life and control.

Enjoy.

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

What should he do?

An inner turmoil broke out in Henry's chest when he looked down at his wife next to him. This was the longest he'd known her sleep for in months. Since her back started to ache, (Y/n) hadn't been sleeping through the night and sometimes, Henry woke up and had to scout round the house until he found her asleep in the armchair downstairs. But he knew (Y/n) had fallen asleep not long after Brodie went to bed and it was almost half past eight in the morning and she was still spark out.

A big part of Henry wanted to leave (Y/n) and see just how long she would sleep for. It would do her a world of good to sleep properly and hopefully she would feel better whenever she woke up. But the other part of him wanted to wake her now so she didn't sleep too much and feel all the worse for it. She might be drowsy if she continued to sleep for much longer and he didn't want her to feel worse or sick or make her back go stiff from too much laying down.

Reaching out his hand, Henry brushed his fingers through (Y/n)'s hair, tucking a strand behind her ear and trailing his fingertips along her shoulder and down her exposed chest.

"Baby... I'm just off to take the kids to school, are you feeling okay?"

A soft hum vibrated against (Y/n)'s lips when she felt a pair of lips kissing her shoulder which slowly moved until they were peppering against her neck, making a shiver run down her back and a flush to creep onto her skin.

(Y/n) had just enough energy inside her to move her arms and hook them around Henry's neck so she could pull him closer to her until he had to lean down and plant his hands beside her head to stop from laying on top of her completely. Henry chuckled softly and kissed the corner of her mouth, smiling at how she clung to him despite being more than half asleep.

"I won't be long, are you gonna wake up a little for me when I get back, hm?" Henry kissed her soft lips before he slowly slipped his head underneath her arms to free himself.

(Y/n) barely felt him kissing her temple and when he left the room, she couldn't bring herself to wake up even though he'd asked so sweetly. Another half an hour escaped her while she slept before her body finally felt like it was able to wake up.

Everything kept circling and spinning around her when she tried to sit herself up and each joint creaked and snapped back into place when (Y/n) sat up and leaned against the headboard. She couldn't remember the last time she slept so deeply and peacefully without at least one twinge of pain waking her up early in the morning.

Over the course of this week, (Y/n) had been sleeping better and better but that was the first night where she truly slept properly and without pain and she knew exactly the reason why.

Tramadol.

After taking one too many at Amy's birthday party, (Y/n) had tried to stop taking them, she really did. But within two days of having none at all, she was feeling the withdrawal symptoms. She was shaking, going dizzy, feeling like she was going to be sick or pass out every few minutes, it had been horrible.

But she realised something, if she took a few tablets in the early evening, they made her feel drowsy enough to fall asleep and stay in a deep sleep. (Y/n) woke up feeling groggy and drugged for the first hour or so but then she was fine. And no one- mainly Henry, didn't worry or see her feeling sick or drowsy or collapsing because of the pills. Taking them at night took away all the tell-tale signs and symptoms of being on them, they were hidden behind her sleeping eyes.

(Y/n) knew it wasn't exactly healthy or good in the long term but she couldn't think long term, she had to think short term, the here and now. And right now, her back was causing severe agony that she had to control somehow and the tablets were the only thing that took even the slightest edge off.

When she got out of bed, (Y/n) trudged to the wardrobe and grabbed the closest things she could, wincing when she straightened up and felt her back click into place.

For a brief moment when she took off her shirt, her eyes couldn't help but glance in the full-length mirror opposite her.

The reflection (Y/n) was faced with didn't feel like her, somehow. When she was pregnant, her reflection had made her smile. (Y/n) liked the way her body changed to make room for a new life and she knew that Henry openly loved how she looked when she was pregnant. She had only been nearly six months when Lilah was born and her stomach didn't look to have changed that much, she only had a small bump and within a week of losing Lilah, it near enough deflated again.

Maybe her reflection wouldn't bother her so much if she had Lilah resting in her arms. Maybe (Y/n) could of smiled at herself if Lilah was in the next room asleep in her cot. She might have felt like her body had done as it should, as she willed it to do, if Lilah was here.

But she wasn't here and (Y/n)'s body had felt broken every day since giving birth to a sleeping baby.

A few stray tears coated (Y/n)'s cheeks while she pressed her hands to her tummy. She wished she was pregnant again, (Y/n) would give anything to rewind time and be connected to Lilah again, to try and push through and actually give birth to a healthy little girl.

If she was being honest, (Y/n) would still give anything to be pregnant right now without having to rewind time. If having another baby would repair the hole in her heart and make her arms feel full and content and would somehow stop the agonising pain in her back, (Y/n) would have a baby in a heartbeat.

She wanted a baby.

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

She needed them, she really, really, needed them. (Y/n) arched her back until it was as curved as it could possibly be and rested her head on her forearms that were crossed together on the kitchen counter. Her back strained and ached and tears welled in her eyes that she tried to push away.

With a deep breath, she raked her trembling hands through her bag, trying to find the little white box of pills. She had tried taking them just at night to get her to sleep and this morning she hadn't felt too bad but now, it was unbearable. (Y/n) needed to have the tablets now or she was going to explode.

A gasp escaped her lips when she felt a strong pair of arms encase around her lower waist. She could feel the way Henry restrained himself, his arms were a little loose around her and he didn't pull her back into his chest like he normally would, he was trying not to hurt her because he could see the pain she was in. His lips against the back of her neck momentairely made the pain fade away and a small slither of euphoria crept in for a few seconds.

"Everything okay, baby?" Henry kept his face nuzzled in the crook of (Y/n)'s neck and he breathed in her scent and her skin tickled his nose from how close he pressed his face to her neck.

If she wasn't in so much pain he would have spun her around and picked her up to sit on his hips but he didn't want to hurt her.

(Y/n) nodded and hummed a small noise but her hands were shaking so much she could barely pop out two tablets from the sachet. She should have paid more attention, if she did she would have noticed Henry had stopped kissing her neck and was looking over her shoulder instead.

"What're you taking?" Henry's tone of voice showed he wasn't looking for an answer, his voice was gruff and rugged and it made (Y/n)'s knees go weak, right until he took the box out her hand.

His chin nuzzled into the crook of her neck and shoulder and he could feel how it made his wife shiver but when he took the box of tablets from her trembling hands, his chest tightened.

What was she doing with tramadol? This prescription should have run out over a week ago and he hadn't seen (Y/n) take any of these this week, well, at least he didn't think he had. Six months was a long time to be taking something like this and Henry knew well enough to know they were addictive tablets which was why he had been relieved (Y/n) stopped taking them. They took the edge off but they didn't take away her pain fully so he didn't see the point in her having them anyway.

"Sweetheart..." There was something so deep and possessive in his voice that would have been sexy if (Y/n) didn't know what he was about to say next. "You told me you stopped taking these."

Moving his hands down to her hips, he spun (Y/n) around until she was facing him and his big arms stretched out beside her, caging her to his chest like a predator cornering his prey. When (Y/n) wouldn't look up to meet his eyes, he gently held her chin and tilted her head up so their eyes met.

"I just got them last week in case I needed them and I do... Henry, it's agony." (Y/n) could feel the tears falling from her eyes as she spoke. She did truly get them in case she needed them, but deep down, (Y/n) had known she would need them. She couldn't try and wean off them when the pain would only come back with vengence.

"Okay, let's see,"

For a brief moment, (Y/n) thought he was going to look at her back in case she had some kind of bruising or lump or something, but he reached behind her and grabbed the box of tramadol instead.

"Last week? How many have you been taking the box is nearly empty!"

(Y/n) couldn't help but wince when Henry's voice changed, it grew deeper but harsher at the same time in a way he didn't usually use around or with her. "I just, I-" What was she supposed to say? (Y/n) had taken one or two extra here and there when the pain was immensely difficult to handle. She took a few at night to get her to sleep and it was working, for the past few days she'd only taken them at night because during the day she had felt a bit better.

"Is this why you've been sleeping so much?"

"Yes, but I haven't been taking them during the day anymore, I take a few at night and it makes the pain stop and I can actually sleep. Henry I needed to take something, I can't keep waking up at two in the morning or sleeping on the sofa or in the armchair."

"Don't you see how dangerous that is?"

"It's not-"

Henry dragged his hand through his curls before scraping his fingers over his chin and jaw. He didn't want to get angry with (Y/n) because it was clear she didn't see this from his perspective or think it was bad. Shouting and arguing wasn't going to help either of them.

"If you overdose on these pills, you could go unconscious and if that happens at night, I'm not gonna know. You could be sick, choke, have breathing trouble and I'd be asleep baby and that's dangerous."

It was an addictive drug, when Henry had taken it he had to gradually reduce them to stop taking them. If (Y/n) stopped now after such a long time on them, she would be in withdrawal and it would make her sick and ill and her pain would be horrid.

But if she was taking too many tablets at night she could overdose and if that made her fall unconscious, Henry wouldn't know about it. She could be sick and choke and an overdose could affect her lungs and if it happened at night Henry was less likely to know or be able to help because he would be asleep. He understood she was taking them to control her pain and he knew she wasn't sleeping but she couldn't do this again.

"Sweetheart, look at me." Henry held her chin between his thumb and finger again and tilted her head up until their eyes met. "I need you to listen to me now. If you take just two extra pills, that's an overdose and it's dangerous. We need to talk to your doctor and slowly wean you off them so you don't go into withdrawal. You can't keep taking these forever and I don't want you on them if this is gonna happen again. Please talk to the doctor, we can get you some other pills, something better that will actually work for you. Please."

He didn't want to put his foot down but what else could he do?

(Y/n) couldn't keep taking them anymore, not if she needed to overdose to get any sense of pain relief, that wasn't how they worked. They could slowly get (Y/n) off them and put her on something different and stronger that would work better. She could have slow releasing capsuled painkillers that worked for a longer period of time so she didn't have to take so many each day.

Anything was better than tramadol if it clearly wasn't working.

"Okay." (Y/n) knew he was right and she knew Henry was only looking out for her because he loved her, but he had to understand that she couldn't cope with this ongoing pain any more.

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

(Y/n) wished water was pain medicine, that each drop of water that cascaded down onto her skin would somehow soak into her body and evict the pain she was feeling. She would stay in the bath or shower for twenty hours a day if it would take away the pain she was feeling.

She must have been in the shower for nearly half an hour now and at first, it had felt so soothing and calming to her burning, prickling skin. It had felt lovely to soak under the water and lean against the shower wall and let the steam surround her and make her feel better. It made her breathe deeply and the blistering pain started to simmer down.

But now, as she stood hunched over with both hands braced on the wall, all (Y/n) wanted to do was disappear.

Tears mingled in with the shower water and drenched down her already sodden face. Her lower back was throbbing like a hammer was repeatedly hitting against her spine and her stomach was churning and aching and she wanted to be sick. Sliding her hands down the wall, (Y/n) slowly lowered herself down until she was kneeling on the floor of the shower with the water hitting her lower back. Oh, she was going to be sick in a minute.

"Mummy, I'm coming in, I need the toilet." Ella slowly opened the door before she pottered in and headed over to the toilet, passing the shower that she could barely see through due to the steam.

When she was finished, she couldn't help but pad over to the shower in the corner of the room next to the bath. She didn't usually get a shower, the last time Ella had one, she had made a mess and managed to drench Henry from head to toe. So he restricted her to the bathtub from now on. She approached the sliding door and started to squiggle her finger against the steam, making a few patterns on the glass.

"Sweetie, will you go and get daddy for me please?"

"Okay," There was clear confusion in Ella's voice, she didn't see why (Y/n) wanted Henry in here when she was in the shower, but the little girl trotted off on her task.

Moving around, (Y/n) sat down and pulled her knees up to her stomach, willing herself not to be sick yet because she didn't have any energy to scuttle to the toilet and she really didn't want to be sick in the shower.

Her body jolted when the shower door opened and when her eyes locked with Henry's and she saw his big gentle giant smile, her chest seemed to burst. A small sob bubbled past her lips and her soaking wet arms reached out towards him.

(Y/n) didn't want to be a burden and deep down she knew she wasn't. Whenever Henry was under the weather or seriously ill, (Y/n) was always sat by his side. She brushed his hair from his eyes when he was sick, made sure he managed to eat and drink and keep up his strength and if he was feeling down she would hold him until he started to feel better. But she hated it when she couldn't do anything but sit and cry and wait for him to come to her rescue.

"Oh, babygirl."

Henry turned off the shower before he wrapped his arms around (Y/n) and slowly pulled her out of the shower. He walked over to the toilet and sat (Y/n) down just in time for her to lean over the sink and throw up.

He didn't say anything, he raked his fingers through her hair and gathered it up in his hands, putting it into a messy bun to be out of her way before he wrapped a towel around her shoulders.

When she finished, (Y/n) opened her eyes wide enough to watch Henry bend down between her legs and wrap his arms around her thighs with his hands resting on her bum. His lips pressed to her inner thigh despite trickles of water glistening on every inch of her skin and he leaned his cheek on her upper leg, smiling up at her adoringly.

"I don't feel good." (Y/n) knew it was obvious that she didn't feel well, she surely looked like Hell and she'd just thrown up in the sink but here was Henry, looking up at her like she was the most beautiful thing in the world.

"I know, but I'm gonna take care of you."

[fangirlingfromdownunder]

Fleeting Comfort

Summary - Part 9 in the Comfort series

Pairing - Dean Winchester x Reader, Reader x Sam (platonic)

Warnings - angst, mentions of pregnancy

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

A/N - G’day guys, I know you guys are desperate to find out the results. Sorry, for making you wait, but I promise you’ll find out today! I hope you enjoy!

You and Dean walk into the clinic hand-in-hand with a comforting sense of deja vu falling over you. As you take a seat in the waiting room you lean over to place a feather-light kiss on Dean’s cheek. 

“Are we really ready for this?”

“Honestly? Probably not. But we’ll figure it out. I’m here for you, every step of the way.”

“Thanks, Dean.”

He wraps an arm around you pulling you close until the doctor calls your name. Even when you stand, Dean doesn’t remove his arm. You sit in the doctor’s office as she brings up the test result files on the computer and prints them out. 

“Good morning, how are you both today?”

“Anxious to find out what that paper says?” Dean says.

“Of course, of course. Well, I won’t keep you waiting any longer; congratulations the blood test came back positive. You’re pregnant.”

You’re completely speechless as you look at Dean, squeezing his hand in yours in an attempt to ground yourself and convince yourself that it’s all real.

“Going by what we discussed last time as well as the hCG levels in your test I’d say you’re approximately six weeks along. We generally send for the first ultrasound around eight or nine weeks, so we can get that all booked for you today.”

"Could we do one earlier?” you ask.

“We can do one today for you if you’d like, but there likely won’t be too much development to see yet. At this stage it will still be an embryo, over the next few weeks it will develop into a fetus and then you’ll actually be able to see some more defining babylike features.”

“I understand. We can wait a few weeks then,” you say. 

“We’ll get that all booked for you before you leave then. Do you have any other questions? Anything else you’d like to know?”

“Just any advice you can give us would be great. Honestly, I never expected to be in this position, Doc. So, just anything you can tell us. What can I do to help my beautiful fiance here through this? What should she be doing?” Dean asks.

“Of course. Well, honestly dad this is a job that only mom can do,” she says looking at you. “The best you can do is just support her and let her tell you what she needs. And don’t hold back on him; pregnancy is highly rewarding but you have already seen the tip of how painful and draining it can be, so make use of your slave here. Don’t let him get off too easy,” she adds, winking at you. “As for other advice, you said you’re managing your first-trimester symptoms well so that’s the biggest thing. Staying away from any foods that trigger you, especially limiting your caffeine intake, and cutting out alcohol. Other than that, and this is in no way meant to scare you but in the first 12 weeks, you are at the highest risk of miscarriage. Now, it’s unlikely that anything will happen but it’s best to just take things easy and be aware of any abnormal changes or vaginal bleeding. Light exercise is fine, as is intercourse but avoid anything that might cause trauma to your abdomen and try to keep your stress levels low. As your pregnancy continues we can discuss birthing options and vitamins and such, but for now, just keep doing what you’re doing. And I’ll see you in a few weeks for the ultrasound.”

“Thanks, Doc. We really appreciate it,” Dean says.

“I wish you both all the best in this new chapter of your lives. I’ll see you in a few weeks.”

You and Dean slowly stand up and make your way back out to reception to pay the bill and book the ultrasound.

On your way home you continue the tradition of picking up baked goods, except this time you decide to get a little something to celebrate and let Sammy in on the news – even though you know he already suspects it, you want to confirm it. But without ordering in advance you have to pick from what’s in the window, so you end up buying a single-tier chocolate cake and a ‘Baby on Board’ plastic decal to stick on top. 

When you return to the bunker, Sam sits at the war table behind a stack of lore books and his laptop. You place the cake on the table where there’s space and insert the decal. 

“I know there’s been a lot of strong feelings around here recently and a lack of communication. I promise that that is going to stop today. And it’s going to start with this cake,” you state.

Sam looks up and takes in the words on the cake. “So, we’re finally discussing this now? You finally took a test? Dean knows?”

“I took two, and yes it’s been confirmed with the doctor with Dean present. Your suspicions were right and you were right about Dean’s reaction; he’s been nothing but supportive, and maybe a little overcautious, but can you blame him? How many other hunters do you know of that actually get to have this reality?” you say as Dean joins you, placing three plates, forks and a knife beside the cake.

Sam nods. “Congratulations you two, seriously! I am really happy for you. And Dean, I’m sorry about this morn-”

“This here,” Dean says gesturing at the cake, “is the only chick-flick moment. My girl here is the only one that gets those. So, that is in the past, we’re good.”

Sam nods as you cut and serve the cake. You and Sam dig in quietly, while Dean mumbles how pie is still better.

“Who’s carrying this baby?” you ask teasingly. 

“Oh, uh…This cake is delicious,” Dean quickly adds.

“That’s what I thought.” You smile and shake your head at him. You love light, happy moments like this, they don’t come as often as you’d like with the life you share. There is usually some monster to kill or an apocalypse to fight. But with your little surprise miracle on the way you hope that your lives will change soon. You know Dean would love to live an apple pie life with you, but you also know that he’ll always be a hunter – it’s all he’s ever known.

Dean stands and comes over to take your empty plate and the cake to the kitchen, but first, he leans down to kiss your head. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

“Just the future…us…the possibilities, the realities.”

“One step at a time, remember. We’re going to figure all of this out together,” he lifts your left hand to his lips kissing your ring, “I made a promise and I intend to keep it.”

You nod slowly as you take a book from Sam’s pile, “I need a distraction, what are we researching?”

Desperate to avoid dreaded research, Dean quickly gathers the dishes and cake and makes his way to the kitchen. 

“Don’t you have more important things to think about, like the nursery or baby names or…”

“Sam, I have eight months to think about that. And I wouldn’t even know where to start with any of that. So please, just let me focus on something that I actually can do.”

“Alright. Well, I’m trying to find out more information about the demon tablet. If you’re gonna bring my niece or nephew into this world in eight months then we’re on a deadline to banish them back to hell and if we can send the angels back to heaven at the same time then that’s even better.”

“Maybe once we do that, you can also go out and find yourself a lady and have your own family. But what are the chances we really pull this off, Sam?”

“The three of us and Bobby, we can handle anything. And now, we’re more motivated than ever. Speaking of, have you and Dean told Bobby yet?”

“Not yet. This still feels like a bad idea. How can I bring a child into a world full of demons and douchebag angels? And if I tell many people and they find out…they’ll try and take it, just because it has Winchester blood running through its veins. Maybe I should have asked the doctor if it’s too late to consider abortion…”

“No way. I can see how badly you both want this, we’ll work it out. You and Dean are strong, you can do this.”

“By keeping it we’re being selfish. As a mother, it’s my job to protect my child and do what’s best and I can’t do that. So, I shouldn’t be having one. It can never be tortured or hurt if it’s never born…”

As the words leave your lips you hear heavy footsteps retreating followed by a door slamming. You turn around quickly.

“I told you, you both want this baby. I see your fears, but you can’t make a decision like this alone or out of fear. And for the record, I think it would be the wrong decision; you and Dean will figure this out, and you’ll be great parents.”

You nod before getting up to chase after your fiance. You knock softly on the door of your shared bedroom. When you don’t get a response you open it slowly. 

“Dean, honey, we need to talk about what you heard…what I said.”

“What’s there to talk about? You sound like you’ve already talked it all through with Sam. Besides, you’ve said it yourself, we were drunk when we conceived it was an accident and it never should have happened.”

“I haven’t talked everything through with Sam...”

“You do, I heard him earlier, ‘You finally took a test? Dean knows?’ How long has he known? You told me he didn’t know? You would barely let me bring it up, but you have no problem discussing it all with him?”

“It’s not what you think. He suspected since the proposal. He put the idea in my head. But I always denied it! I came clean with you first! I took the test with you! I love you, Dean!” 

“And the thought of aborting our baby…you never mentioned that to me but you talk to Sam? I get it’s your body, your choice and wherever, but I just thought we were a team…So, what is it? Is it because he’s smarter? Or is it just that you don’t want to discuss this with me?”

You walk closer to where Dean’s sitting on the floor next to the bed and kneel beside him. You reach for his hand but he jerks away. Your eyes fill with tears. “It’s none of that. You’ve been so excited and happy, and I love seeing you like that. I didn’t want to ruin that with my fears or thoughts.”

“So, you’d rather abort the baby and rip my heart out that way instead? I don’t think I’ve ever asked much of you, but please you need to talk to me! This! This is exactly why I always kept myself shut off! I always told knew this was a bad idea!”

“This?”

“Us! A long-term relationship! One-night stands can’t hurt you; there are no expectations. No secrets. No heartbreak.”

“Dean…please. Don’t say that. Can we talk about this please?”

“Now you wanna talk? No. Do what you want with the baby, you always know best,” Dean says coldly as he stands up.

“Please, Dean. Don’t do this! Don’t walk out on us!”

“I love you, and I always will. But I need some time,” he says as he walks out shutting the door behind him.

A loud sob escapes your body as you collapse on the floor in tears. You wrap your arms around your stomach protectively.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

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[eversailedinafirefly]

hey there uterus-burdened folks, i’m in need of some advice??

went in to my gyno for a pretty standard IUD replacement and because I was having some v unpleasant cyst symptoms (not entirely abnormal) i asked him to poke around up there with his ultrasound a lil longer. turns out, ya girl has a blocked fallopian tube and is getting fast-tracked to an endo diagnosis and a potential laparoscopy

except not that fast, bc it’s the Netherlands and healthcare is cheap and pretty good but decidedly not fast. and in the mean time I’m just in more and more pain (especially in the mornings) and my stomach is all out of whack and bloated and eating is harder than I’d like it to be. plus like, the crushing mental realization that something about my body is fundamentally wrong again*, the girl who fuckin hates medical procedures now gets another metric shit ton on my plate, and this shit will have a decided impact on the future i’m trying to build with a beloved partner. ya know, little things.

so anyway, if anyone has any advice on just short term pain and symptom management for this, it would be really helpful. I’m just tired of dealing with my body and if anyone can make me hate it less rn I’d appreciate it ❤️

*ya girl ALSO has MS because if there is a god they decided to fuck my life in particular