#(oof on the leg pain hope it gets better)

[kingkat12]

Would you ever write some mean!dom!Roman? Maybe where the reader uses a safe word and his whole demeanour softens 🥹 would be so cute!

mean dom Roman... as in the plain old Roman we all know and love? ahahah hell to the YES??? thank u so much for ur request, I loved writing this sm!! hope u like it hihi

safe word (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, piv sex, quite rough sex (gets better dw), foul language, humiliation kink ish?, cum-play, he's so mean oof

summary: sex with Roman can be pure heaven, but it can sometimes feel like he wants to put you through hell... has hell ever felt so good?

word count: 2,276

"I-- I can't keep going," I held Roman close to me, letting out a small yelp against his neck as my hips moved away from his, aching and overstimulated. 

Something was a little different about him today-- Roman usually gave me time to adjust to his length before completely ravaging me like this, but tonight was different. I had an inkling that it turned him on to hear me whimper beneath him like this, that he couldn't help but enjoy the way my walls fluttered around him in a mix of exhaustion and desperation. 

"Aw," Roman breathed, his hand in my hair tightening as he spoke against my ear; "Too bad. Don't care."

I let out a small cry, my nails digging into his broad back. I knew I had a habit of getting overstimulated rather quickly, but I swore that something was different, I was sure of it-- was it maybe the fact that we had a little fight this morning? Did Roman need to take his frustration out on me like this? There wasn't any time to think about it, but there was one thing I could be sure of; and that was that Roman loved pushing me beyond the point of tears, and loved the way my eyes glossed over as they met his, looking like a complete and utter mess.

I spotted his growing smirk before he leaned down to kiss my neck, and I couldn't help but whimper at the force he was slamming his hips into mine. My broken noises didn't get any softer when my warmth swallowed him completely, feeling his cock go deep to the hilt. "Rome--" I let my head roll back down against my pillow, my legs wrapping around him as he continued his harsh thrusts. I knew he was being too rough with me, but the feeling of being pounded like this nearly turned me mute.

And weirdly enough, a part of me enjoyed it. Knowing that Roman had this power over me, the ability to make me feel nothing but engulfed by him, somehow made the pain subside into a darker pleasure than I was used to. Something about it felt... satisfactory.

Roman gripped my waist, nipping at my jaw as he let out a laboured grunt. I squeezed my eyes shut, crying out at the multiple sensations coursing through my veins as he murmured pure filth against my skin. 

"Act like a brat and I'll treat you like a brat," Roman purred, biting down on my earlobe-- something told me he was enjoying himself a little extra tonight. 

"Am not," was all I managed to say, whimpering as he continuously drove himself deep into me. 

This was seemingly not the right thing to say-- Roman wasted no time roughly grabbing my cheeks in one hand, my lips parting as I stared up at him with eyes full of tears. "I'm sorry, what was that?" he asked, an apparent sadistic smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth.

I knew I would be in big trouble if I didn't stop going against him. "Sorry," My legs gave in to a quiver, wrapping around him even tighter as he let go of my cheeks. "Rome, please--" I didn't have time to finish my plea, letting out a loud whimper as he brought his hand down to press his palm against my lower abdomen, feeling himself rut into me. Roman let out a low, sinister laugh, clearly in awe at the sensation; I wanted nothing more than to hit him. But still, like a slave to the pleasure, I dug my nails further into his back instead, earning a rather lewd moan from him which usually was a rarity.

Roman's arms wrapped around my waist, moving me against him; despite how harsh he was being with me, I could at least find comfort in the closeness. My hard nipples brushed up against his chest, his lips pressing heated kisses against my body and mouth. Oh, the way he was holding me with complete and utter need-- if he hadn't been so harsh, I would've been floating around on cloud nine. "Please, Rome-- I really can't," 

With a grunt, Roman pulled his cock out only till the tip was left. I let out a sigh of relief; I had hope that he would maybe pull out, maybe take it easy on me, pity me, but I should've known better. It didn't take long before Roman drove himself back into me, my walls clenching around him as I cried out, hearing him let out a satisfied moan against my ear which had me shivering.  "What was that?" he hummed, his grip around my waist tightening, almost as a warning. An ominous laugh escaped him, the green of his eyes practically engulfing me as he spoke; "Oh, baby, look at you... Are you crying? You asked for it, you know that, right?"

I could only whimper, a wave of oddly satisfactory defeat washing over me. Something about the way he was taunting me was making my stomach flutter. It felt as though I was completely submerged in everything Roman--  the dizzying scent of his cologne that I inhaled through my nose, his lips against my mouth and throat every so often, and his tongue against mine. It eventually became hard to breathe, and my eyes glossed over once more as Roman's thrusts grew rougher, taking more liberties than he would usually dare to. 

"Try that again," he said, urging me on. It was obvious that Roman knew what I was trying to say, but he was being particularly mean today.

"I can't--" My words came out along with another cry, gripping onto him the same way he was gripping onto me. It felt as though today's session served as a reminder more than anything else; that I was his, no matter what, and that he would do as he pleased with me. Roman's rough thrusts grounded me, wordlessly telling me I belonged to him, and it made me feel as though he was diminishing my self-worth with every pump of his cock. It was starting to feel too rough, too raw; "Shit, wait, Rome--" I barely managed to get anything out without a stutter, burying my face against the bare skin of his broad shoulders.

Roman let out a laugh; "Aw, is someone getting sore?" 

I could only whimper as he dug himself into me repeatedly, my whole body aching, my hips squirming away from him again-- Roman responded by grabbing me rather harshly, holding me down. I knew he wasn't going to let me go without a proper fight, without me saying the word, and that made more tears pool in my eyes.

"A-Aah--" My hands flew down to grab the ones he had on my waist, arching my back against the bed as my body started to reject his thrusts. I felt myself squirm, groaning in a mix of pleasure and pain-- I knew that I had to go for my last resort, despite never having had use for it before. "Red!" I cried out, my nails digging into his skin, a sob building in my chest.

In an instant, Roman froze up, his grip around my body lifting within a second. He propped himself up on his elbows as his widening eyes met mine-- it seemed he had only now registered what he was truly doing to me. "Sorry," he tried, reaching for my face with wary movements, shifting on the bed. "Too much?"

Sniffling, a single tear rolled down my face as I nodded, leaving behind a wet spot on my pillow.

"Fuck, look at you," Roman whispered, gently grabbing at my jaw, hoping to ground me. "Your heart is beating so fast... Should I pull out?"

I let out a shaky breath, holding back any other tears. I had never actually had to use the safeword before, and this whole experience was beyond dizzying. How could Roman go from being someone so mean, callous, rough, and then suddenly go back to normal?

"Hey, talk to me," Roman's thumb stroked my cheek, another attempt at bringing me back. "What can I do for you?" 

Amid my daze, I was made aware of his cock still being inside me when it jerked upwards, throbbing involuntarily against my fluttering walls. Roman hissed, clearly conflicted between the feeling of pleasure and embarrassment; "Shit, sorry... It has a life of its own," 

Something about that made me giggle through my tears, a breathy laugh building in my chest. Seeing Roman like this, clearly out of his rough and mean state, made me ease up. The feeling of arousal was still coursing through my veins, burning in the tips of my fingers, aching between my legs-- I wasn't quite ready to stop. "If you promise to be gentle... I'd like to continue,"

With a relieved sigh, Roman leaned forward to press a sweet kiss against my forehead. "Of course," he whispered, nudging his nose against mine, his breath hot against my lips. "Let me make it up to you, hm?"

"Sounds good," I breathed, meeting his lips in a soft and open kiss, coming together like missing pieces of a puzzle, completely different from the way we had been kissing a minute ago. This felt so much better-- we were connected as one.

Roman pulled out of me, making sure to be careful. He grabbed my tear-stained pillow, placing it beneath my hips as he sat himself up on his knees. "I'll go easy on you, kid," he murmured, his thumb moving down to my clit, gathering my slick so that he could rub small, tight circles around it. "Gonna make you feel real good, okay?"

I let out a soft moan, my chest fluttering with warmth at his gentle touches. My eyes rounded out, meeting his with a newfound satisfaction and love. 

Roman gripped himself with his free hand, rubbing his tip against my aching sex, a grunt slipping past his kiss-swollen lips as he slid back into me, the wet sound of our reunion making goosebumps appear along my skin. This time, he made sure not to go all the way into me, finally giving me time to adjust to his length. 

Roman's thumb was still circling my clit with a toe-curling pressure as he found a nice, steady rhythm to keep at. From this position, I could watch as his usually styled hair fell in front of his green eyes, kissing his forehead as his lips parted in pleasure-- it was impossible to take my eyes off of him. 

Roman's gaze was glued to the image before him, letting out a shaky groan as his fingers went up and down my stomach, taking in the view. During moments like these, I really felt like the most beautiful creature on earth; what other explanation could there be for how he was looking at me right now? 

It didn't take long before I started to feel close-- we had been going on for so long that the softness of his demeanour had me closer to my climax much quicker than usual. Luckily, Roman knew me well enough to see the signs, recognizing the way my back arched, the way my hands reached for his. He intertwined our fingers with his free hand; "I have half the mind to keep you on the edge," he purred, a smirk reappearing on his lips.

I let out a broken whimper; "Please,"

"Please what?"

"Be nice," 

Roman chuckled, nodding to himself as he retreated his teases. He let go of my fingers to grab my hips, letting out a groan as my walls tightened around him; "Shit-- Okay, okay,"

Oh, I was so crazy about him. So, so in awe of Roman and everything that followed. Love-drunk words slipped past his lips as his thrusts pressed up against that special spot inside me, simultaneously keeping the tight pressure around my swollen clit, making me mewl out in desperation; "Close, fuck!--"

Roman let out a soft laugh as my fingers gripped his arm, digging into his skin as I clamped around him, wordlessly begging for my release. My heart pounded in my ears as he gave a few final thrusts, fucking me right into my orgasm; I writhed beneath him, a moaning mess, feeling satiated and complete. I bucked up against his hand, the post-coital overstimulation hitting me like a hard wave, letting out a few broken whimpers and silent pleas. 

It didn't take a lot of begging for Roman's cock to twitch with his orgasm, and he pulled out with haste, letting out a string of soft grunts as ropes of cum decorated my stomach. 

As our heavy breathing and panting filled the room, I reached out for Roman, who in turn lied down next to me, pressing a kiss against my cheek. I let out a relieved giggle, turning to connect our lips in a lazy, sweet kiss that had my whole body fluttering with warmth. Watching as Roman closed his eyes, sighing in exhaustion, my attention turned to the mess he had made on my stomach. 

My hand dipped down into the pool of cum forming on my lower abdomen, coaxing my finger with a sly smirk; I brought it up to his lips, leaving a streak of the slick on his lip.

Normally, Roman would wipe it off with a grimace and eventually laugh it off. 

However, today was different-- I had known it from the start. Roman leaned forward with a cheeky smirk, lazily connecting our lips, the taste of his cum lingering on my tongue throughout the remainder of the night.

I was sure he'd never admit to finding that hot, but I knew it. I was more sure of that than anything else.

[captain-dville]

*Jonny takes a breath and lets it out. A few gears. A few gears, he can do that...huh, he feels kind of woozy all of a sudden.*

"Okay. Okay... I can do that. Fuck, I forgot how much this hurt... gonna have to steal you something nice after this, putting up with all that... all that bullshit..."

*As he speaks he lays back down, gesturing with their joined hands; his movements and words getting sluggish as the new painkillers start their work.*

"Be gentle, 'kay? Fucking... trust you, dovebird, so be careful."

( @scientist-cognizi )

*So they were doing this.*

*There was no way around it: Jonny was terrified as he sat on the side of the wheel-out medical bed, watching @scientist-cognizi potter around getting set up. They'd done what they could to make the medical bay look less like a lab, though Jonny had been unhelpful in explaining why exactly - he'd thrown a bedsheet over the equipment they weren't using, and refused a medical gown in favour of just stripping down to his trousers.*

*He could hear the irregular tick - czztick - tick of his mechanical heart all too loudly in the quiet room. He squeezed @everybodys-favourite-gunner 's hand reflexively, hoping it wasn't too obvious how quiet he was being, or how his shoulders were trembling. Then he did the same to @drumbbot-brian's hand on his other side.*

*He saw Raphaella reach for a screwdriver, and tensed up - then he let his gaze flick over to Nastya where she was leaning against the wall, watching over everything, and felt his breathing steady just a little.*

[dandylovesturtles]

Decided to write a quick little something for @whumperless-whump-event Day 4: chronic pain/"I'm used to it."

featuring, of course, Sidelined Leo!

like I said before, since it's disability pride month I'd like to do a few things for the Sidelined AU, so hopefully I will find time for more as the days go. For now, I hope you enjoy this!

-----

Leo can tell it's going to be a bad day the moment he wakes up.

The pain in his arms and legs has grown from it's constant dull thrum to a more present burn, and there's a pinch between his eyes that tells him a headache is on the way. Really, he's not surprised; the last few days have been really good. He even went out on a mission two days ago, and did a little skateboarding yesterday. It stands to reason that his body has crashed out on him.

Sometimes he feels angry and bitter about it. Today, he just feels a sort of resigned acceptance. And that means maybe it won't be such a bad day after all.

He hits the button on the side of the bed so it bends him into a reclined position, then fumbles around on his side table until his hand lands on his pill organizer. He should probably text someone to bring him water, but it feels like a pain, so he dry swallows them one by one and just resolves not to mention doing that to Dad or Raph.

Then he finally blinks the sleep out of his eyes and looks around his room and... darn it, his chair isn't here. Where'd he even leave it...

His memory is a complete blank on that one, so he sighs and clears his throat.

"Hey, Shell-man?"

There's only a second of silence before Shelldon's voice echoes from who even knows where. Donnie rigged his new room with more electronics than Leo will ever know about.

"S'up bro?"

"You know where my chair is?" he asks, like Shelldon can't track it instantly.

"You left it in the arcade, dude," comes the answer. "Want me to wheel it over?"

Yeah, no way he's getting himself to the arcade today. "Sure, thanks, Shelly."

"No problem, dude!"

Leo lets his head flop back on his pillows while he wants for his chair to be delivered. He fumbles around for his phone this time and takes a look at his reminders.

6:00 PM: Concert with Mikester

"Crap," he mutters, closing his eyes. Right, that yokai hip-hop group Mikey wanted to go see. Leo had promised he'd go with him, but he doubts he'll be able to do it now.

It's not that big a deal. Raph or Donnie will probably go with him if Mikey makes big enough puppy eyes at them. It's just, Leo had been kinda excited about it, too...

The dark buzz that heralds his anxiety flares up, and he sucks in a deep breath and lets it out slow. He doesn't want this day to turn terrible. He needs to relax and accept the things he can't change, like April always says. Even when it sucks.

There's a whir of electronics that signals the arrival of his chair. Leo waits until it parks itself next to his bed, then he swings his legs over the bed and stands up just long enough to sit down in the chair again. Even that leaves him feeling a little winded, but he doubts his arms could have handled the transfer so he doesn't bother trying.

He wheels around his room until he finds his big comfy unicorn hoodie, then drives out into the rest of the lair, making his way up the ramp to the kitchen. He can smell breakfast cooking, and hear Raph's voice.

"Morning fam," he says as he comes in, trying to keep his voice upbeat even though he already feels tired.

"Morning Leo!" Mikey echoes, turning around with a whole plate of waffles. His smile falters a little when he sees the chair and the hoodie. "Oof. Flare up?"

"Yeah," he admits, steering his chair into the empty part of the kitchen table. Mikey sets the waffle plate down, and without having to be asked Raph starts fixing some for Leo, with blueberries on top.

It took work for them both to find the line between helping and babying, but they're better at this now. Leo doesn't mind Raph helping him out this way, especially because he'd rather not make a mess of the kitchen table.

"Mikey, can you grab my fat fork?"

"It has a name," says a tired voice behind him, and Leo smirks as Donnie comes around the side and makes for the coffee machine.

"I just used it. It's the fat fork."

"It's a GeniusBuilt Secure Grip Adjustable Fork-"

"I'm not saying all that."

Donnie huffs. Mikey snickers, swinging around him to deliver the fork with the thick grip to Leo. He has another set with a loop that can secure to his hand if he needs it, but this one is fine for now.

"Here!

"Thanks Angelo."

"Did you take your meds this morning?" Raph asks.

"Yes, Mom," says Leo, rolling his eyes as he cuts off a bite of waffle.

"Really? 'Cause Raph didn't hear you ask anyone to bring you water-"

"I had some leftover Gatorade in my room," Leo lies quickly.

"Uh-huh." Raph looks at him skeptically. "Leo, you know taking pills without water hurts your throat."

"Meh meh meh, you'll hurt your throat," Leo repeats in a mocking voice. Raph reaches over like he's going to cuff Leo on the head, then seems to rethink it and steals some of his blueberries instead. "Hey!"

"You are all so noisy already," comes Splinter's voice, and he finally comes into the room to join them, wearing the robe he slept in. He looks up at Leo in his chair. "Are you in pain, Blue?"

Leo hums an affirmative. "It's not that bad, though," he adds, because it's not. Comparatively.

Now it's his dad's turn to look skeptical. "Are you sure?"

Leo grimaces. "It's... a little worse than normal," he amends. "But I can handle it."

"Mmm..." Splinter walks off to get in his own seat. "Let us know if it gets worse."

"Yeah, yeah..."

The conversation moves on to other topics, up until Leo's wheelchair beeps at him. He groans, glancing down at the battery indicator, which is firmly in the red.

"You forgot to charge it, didn't you?" asks Donnie, looking amused.

"Shut up, I've been busy!" Leo snaps back.

"If you left it on the charger when you aren't using it then this wouldn't happen."

"Alright, anyone else have any criticisms for me today?" he says, except it comes out a shade too bitter and Donnie's grin falters.

Good job, Leon, way to be a dick. He winces, focusing again on his waffles. His arm is sore from the effort of eating and he wants to crawl back in bed and stay there, which is exactly the sort of attitude he's been trying to avoid.

"...I have the backup chair in the lab if you need it," says Donnie. A peace offering.

"Thanks," says Leo, returning it.

So after breakfast, Donnie helps him swap chairs. His main one is put on the charger and he wheels himself to the living room with the backup, then calls for Raph.

"Think you can help me get comfy, big guy?" he asks.

"Of course," says Raph with a grin. "What do you want?"

It's nice that he asks now, instead of assuming.

Leo directs him to help him onto the couch, then Raph gets him his fluffy blue blanket to cover him up. Even though he took his meds, he can feel the pain radiating at his hips and knees and he guesses he's going to need more later. He sets an alarm on his phone and settles in with a Jupiter Jim flick to fall asleep to.

He's not out yet when he hears the pad of feet, then feels the couch dip as Mikey sits next to him.

"Hey Leo," he says softly, and Leo gives a hum to let him know he's still awake. "You think... you're gonna feel up for the concert tonight?"

Oh right. Shoot. It had already slipped Leo's mind, and now he feels guilty all over again.

He opens his eyes and tilts his head so he can see Mikey. "I don't think so. I'm sorry."

"You don't gotta apologize!" says Mikey quickly. "I'm sorry you're having a rough day."

"It's fine," says Leo. "I'm used to it."

"I'm still sorry," says Mikey firmly. He gets up, then comes over so he can give Leo a very awkward couch hug. "I wish you didn't have to hurt," he says, sincerely.

Leo leans into the hug. Feels the dark buzz of anxiety ebb away.

"Hey, it's alright. All you guys make it easier."

Mikey beams at that, bouncing back up. "Hey, I know," he says. "I'll get Donnie to help me set up a sweet livestream so you can see the concert from right here!"

They don't have to go to all that trouble for him. But Leo looks up at his little brother's shining smile and can't say no.

"That'd be really cool," he says, and Mikey claps his hands.

"Yes! Okay, I'll go get Dee and we'll get on it!"

He races away. Leo chuckles, curling up under his blanket.

Maybe it won't be such a bad day after all.

[tumtorture]

A slender fairy, his body as tall as a standing rat, smelled sugar and blueberries on the air and followed the sweet scents to a cottage. He flew through an open window and saw a blueberry pie cooling on the counter.

He wasn’t particularly hungry but he loved pie—especially stolen pie. He pulled back some of the crust and dipped an arm in. It tasted as delicious as it had smelled. He ate blueberries by the armfuls until his stomach began to feel heavy. The pie was too good to stop eating now. Who knew when he would get this chance again?

He continued to stuff his face, trying the lattice-work crust and deciding it was the best crust he had ever tasted. After a little while, a ripple of pain shivered through his now tightly-swollen tummy. He burped and rubbed his grumbling stomach, smearing a circle of blue goo around his bellybutton. His big, overfilled belly throbbed painfully. Rubbing didn’t help at all. In fact, it rather hurt.

“Oohh,” said the fairy. “I have a bad tummy ache.”

He decided he needed to go to his toadstool home and lie down until he felt better. He flapped his wings and barely lifted off the ground. Then he fell right back down, falling in a heap and jarring his belly on the countertop, knocking the wind out of him. He grabbed his aching stomach and hugged it hoping the pain would subside. It didn’t. It only throbbed worse from hitting the counter. A loud moan escaped him.

He didn’t understand why his wings didn’t work. He took a look at his achy belly, and the mystery was solved. It was huge! It jutted out from his lithe frame—a large, swollen mass. He looked like he had swallowed a whole walnut.

He groaned and rubbed his poor tummy. At least no one could see him like this.

The creak of hinges announced someone entering the cottage. The fairy tried to hide behind a large jar of jam, but his stomach was too big. He ran for a potted ivy, but he tripped and landed flat on his heavy, swollen belly. He rolled over, his face squenched up with suffering, hugging his stomach with both arms. A glass, like a round prison, fell over him.

“Ah-ha!” said a man with a long gray beard. “I’ve caught a thief!”

“Please,” said the fairy, “put me out in your garden. I’ll trouble you no more. I promise.” He winced at a particularly bad cramp. “Please, sir, I have a terrible tummy ache.”

The man put his head close to the glass. “That’s certainly a big, fat tummy.” He lifted the glass.

“Thank you. I have quite the tummy ache. If I just go—“

The man plucked the fairy up by his plump belly. The fairy screamed. The man’s big fingers rubbed the fairy’s distended stomach between them, back and forth.

Waves of pain crashed through the fairy’s stomach. Lights dazzled his eyes. “Oohh! My tummy! Stop! Please, stop!”

The man grinned. He pushed the fairy’s back against the wall. He uttered words the fairy recognized as magic but didn’t understand. His arms and legs splayed to the sides. Vines grew from within the wall and lashed around his wrists and ankles. Another wrapped around his throat. It wasn’t as tight as the other bonds, but it kept him posed upright. In the middle of it all, hung his engorged stomach.

Terror overtook the fairy. He squirmed against his bonds, but they held him fast. “Let me go!”

The man, apparently a wizard, chuckled. “I don’t like thieves. Or fairies, for that matter.”

He poked his big pointer finger in the fairy’s bellybutton. It felt like a punch in the gut. “Oof!” Pain rocked through the fairy’s belly. It shook in rippling waves of torture long after the finger disappeared. All he wanted to do was hold his achy stomach, but he couldn’t move.

The man thumped him right in his bellybutton. “Ungh!” The fairy moaned. He felt as if he’d been kicked in the stomach. “My tummy,” he managed breathlessly. If only he could curl into a ball and cradle his poor tummy.

“Awww. Do you have a stomach ache?”

The fairy whimpered. “Y-yes.”

“Oh. Well, you know what’s good for that? Blueberry pie!”

The fairy looked at the wizard in horror. “No. I can’t eat anymore.”

“If you eat until I tell you to stop, I’ll let you go. If you don’t, I’ll slap you between my hands and feed you to my hog.”

Tears welled in the fairy’s eyes. “I’ll eat,” he promised.

The wizard spooned a bite of pie into his mouth. The spoon was too big for him, so some of it stuck to his face. He ate as best he could. Forcing it down. Trying not to think about how full he already was.

The wizard whispered a spell—words the fairy didn’t recognize. A hunger took hold of him. He gobbled the pie from the spoon, licking his lips whenever the wizard pulled the spoon away to gather more.

Despite his ferocious hunger, his stomach ached and ached. He could barely stand it. His taut stomach’s skin pulled tighter and tighter as his belly swelled. Tremors of pain roiled through his overburdened guts.

“No,” he managed weakly. “My tummy can’t take anymore.” The pain finally outmatched his hunger.

The wizard pursed his lips. He mashed his pointer finger into the fairy’s hard stomach, denting it slightly. The fairy cried out in pain. The wizard gave a small harumph. “Looks like there’s more room to me.”

The fairy, despite his ravenous hunger, began to cry. His stomach hurt so much. He had never had such a terrible tummy ache in his life.

As he ate more and more, his stomach expanded further. It groaned and strained to digest all of the food. Each bite became more of a struggle. His stomach felt so heavy. His skin stretched tight around his distended belly. It wobbled painfully as he struggled to swallow.

The wizard pulled the spoon away and flicked his belly. A massive explosion of pain pulled a groan from deep inside the fairy. “Ungh.”His full stomach swung back and forth, sloshing. The fairy moaned in agony.

The wizard grinned. “Who knew something so small could get so big.”

When the fairy looked down at his stomach, it was unrecognizable. It looked like he had swallowed a chicken egg. It was bigger than the whole rest of his thin little body. A blueberry circle, like a target, marked the center, but there were also bright bruises where the wizard had picked him up. The dark marks around the blueberry stain were also bruises. A red blush revealed where the wizard had just flicked him. No wonder he hurt so much. His poor stomach was so traumatized.

The wizard cast another spell, and the hunger left the fairy. Now there was nothing left but pain. The wizard grabbed the fairy’s abused belly as if he were plucking a plum and said a spell that made the vines disappear. The fairy’s head swam, dizzy with pain.

The wizard carried the fairy to the counter and plopped him down on it. Immediately, the fairy curled up, as best as he could, around his distended, aching stomach. He held it, his hands unable to meet, unable to rub the throbbing middle of his huge belly. He moaned and rolled from side to side. “My tummy. Oohh. My tummy.”

The wizard laughed. “I think I’ll keep you here a while, maybe a few days, maybe a few weeks. I’m going to give you a bad tummy ache every day. Maybe then you’ll never steal again.” As the fairy whimpered, the wizard jabbed his exposed bellybutton with two fingers. His fingertips not only struck the fairy in his bellybutton, but above and below it, hitting the generous curve of the fairy’s belly.

The blow increased the suffering of that achy tummy, causing the fairy’s eyes to bulge with the intensity of his pain. Air puffed through his rounded lips. Lights flashed before his eyes. Darkness embraced him as he lost consciousness, the grumbling of his abused stomach following him into the dark.

[genderqueerdykes]

i know this isn't exactly what you usually talk about but i need to ask somewhere and you seem really safe and kind about stuff.

I'm struggling to work out if i 'count' as physically disabled - because like most of my problems (fatigue, joint pains, weakness) are Not That Bad™️ and most of them would probably get a lot better if not go away completely if i did things like eat better and sleep properly and exercise more but between the aforementioned fatigue and pain and the autism and the having a 9-5 job and so on it makes it practically impossible to do those things anyway. Like yeah my weak ass legs would probably be better if i did exercise but i dont have the time or the energy.

But then also Something Is Up like i had back pain at age 5 - that's not normal. Nobody ever diagnosed it as anything i just went to a chiro a few times and got some stretches i rarely did because a) i was a kid and b) the stretches either didnt do anything at all, or were literally impossible. Like there were a few that were completely trivial and i could do to the maximum extension of healthy joints unless i was otherwise injured, and others where i physically couldn't reach the starting position - not even always because of pain but just because my joints physically didnt move that far. (I try to do the ones i can still at least sometimes but i've forgotten the ones that were physically impossible) So like there has to be Something up - a 5 year old does not get back pain for lifestyle reasons.

Idk. this is getting ramble-y i think but i just don't know what i feel and I'm so shit scared of doctors (for no good reason, they're just very stressful environments) that i haven't ever brought any of it up as an adult and so there hasn't been any attempt to do anything about it anyway but also i'll probably just get told to stretch and exercise anyway and as discussed that isn't always an option.

I read a fair bit of physical disability stuff and i sometimes reblog or engage with it a little bit if it's like 'oof ouch my back' or whatever that i relate to really obviously, but idk if I'm allowed to be in those spaces more obviously or what i should do about any of it either.

(ow. my hands hurt from holding my phone to type all that. that's getting worse too. not sure what's up with that...)

hello there!

generally i'd say that if you're experiencing joint pain, especially right as you begin standing on your feet and weakness, there's a very good chance there's an underlying issue. that's enough to say that you're physically disabled, as it's impacting your ability to work, stand on your feet, and so on. it's up to an individual to decide whether or not they feel disabled by their aches, pains and so on

definitely try to avoid chiropractors moving forward- most of what they do is nebulously helpful at best and damaging at worst. if you are able to do so, seeing a rheumatologist, orthopedist, physical therapist or kinesiologist. you may be able to speak to a pain management specialist in your area if that's necessary. you can get referrals to these types of specialists and appointments through your doctor.

best of luck in figuring out what's going on. i would say it sounds like that's disabling for you. i hope you're able to get some help for that so you can have an easier time. take care for now, stay safe

[glitchy-npc]

Tenacity

Done as a discord prompt, Tegan and Ortega have an impromptu sparring session that goes...poorly. Sidestep era days, pre face reveal. 1,051 words.

The training mat is supposed to soften the blow and while it's better than concrete, it still hurts when Ortega’s throw lands you flat on your back. Maybe you shouldn't complain, it wasn’t hard enough to activate your pain gate and it would have been far more embarrassing if he caught you. You have an audience after all. Steel and Anathema watch from the sidelines, having paused their own workouts to watch your impromptu sparring session with Ortega. 

He had been the one who suggested it, with a cocky smile and a challenge that was impossible to say no to. You're starting to figure him out, how he likes to bait people, throw them off guard. A guard you put up once more after picking yourself up off the mat, ignoring his outstretched hand. You won’t let him coddle you, not with witnesses.

You watch his feet as he moves hoping they’ll telegraph his next move since the static hum of his mind reveals nothing. It's inconvenient, like fighting with a blindfold. Maybe you should have asked him to fight with one hand tied behind his back. But this is something you need to prove to yourself. That you're strong enough, good enough to run with the Rangers. 

You should have been watching his hands. His left hook catches you by surprise, cracking against your cheek bone and you know it will bruise because you feel your pain gate kick in, slowly muddling the sharp sting of the blow. It's a sensation you’re becoming increasinging used to. At least your mask hides the damage. As well as your expression. 

Ortega winces in sympathy. “Oof, I really thought you would have sidestepped that one.” A wink is all he offers by way of apology. Not that you would have accepted one. No one has ever apologized to you in your life, no reason the Marshal should, just because he’s friendly. 

Friendly when he's not trying to kick your ass in front of his coworkers. Focus. You need to get past that reach. No way you can slug it out with how much taller he is and there's nothing near you besides empty space that you could use to your advantage. Part of you wonders if Steel and Anathema are keeping their distance out of concern for stray lightning bolts. It's been known to happen. 

No, you’ve got to get him off his feet, on the ground. If you can get him into a lock you might be able to get him to tap out. 

You duck low under his raised guard and lock your arms around his torso. With your pain gate active you barely feel the body blow he gives you and you sacrifice your footing for the aid of gravity, sweeping your leg behind his dominant one, using your momentum to bring him off balance. He doesn’t fall like you wanted him to, rolling to diffuse the impact, but you’re still locked together. And what's worse, he's on top. But while your arms are pinned, so are his. He has the audacity to smile at you and you're sure it's not just your imagination that reads the suggestion in it. 

Ok. Time to fight dirty, your enemies would. You crack your forehead into his nose as hard as you can, your pain gate saving you from the worst of it, not so much for Ortega. 

He swears in Spanish but the surprise blow is enough of a distraction to roll him off of you. Not that he lets you get to your feet. 

He’s fast but then again you knew that. He grapples you down again. Longer reach, heavier body, what were you thinking? It's not long before he has you pinned, face down, one arm trapped beneath you, the other locked behind your back. You struggle despite it but your kicks find no purchase.

“Tap out!” The Marshal voice. Looks like he's not playing anymore. 

Drops of something wet and coppery smelling hit your mask. Blood? Did you break his nose? You’ll call that a victory even if your arm beneath you is shaking with the effort to get him off you. You push with every bit of your strength, trying not to think about how you’ll feel once your pain gate resets.

“I said tap out!” The pressure increases on the arm he has a hold of. You don’t feel the pain but there's a tightness in your shoulder that worries you. He could break your arm. 

Easily. 

“Fuck you!” It’s all you can think of to say as you feel your eyes sting. What made you think you could take on Charge of all people? He’s been in the hero game for years, there's a reason he was made the Marshal. And you? A runaway little cuckoo who was never made for combat. Small. Weak. Everything your blue-skinned siblings said you were. You squeeze your eyes shut hard, half to push back the tears, half to muster the very last ounce of strength you have.

You feel your bodies lift ever so slightly and then…

“Enough!” Suddenly all the pressure is gone as Steel drags the Marshal off of you and you quickly scramble to your feet. Anathema stands in front of you, close but not touching you as Steel stands in front of Ortega, barriers between you two. 

There's a strange look in Ortega’s eyes as blood flows freely from his nose, you’re not sure if you approached him now if he would hit you or hug you. 

“You should have yielded…” His voice is softer than it had been before, unsure, not a tone you’re used to hearing from him.

“I think we're done for today.” Steel says with a finality you can feel. Even if he’s an asshole, he’s at least good at keeping a cool head. He offers the Marshal a towel and suddenly the sight of his blood makes you nauseous. You need to get out of here. 

“Whatever.” Is all you offer by way of goodbye, turning on your heel to storm out of the training room.

“Sidestep, wait! We can-” Anathema’s voice calls out to you but you’re already out the door. You walk as fast as you can, it takes all your willpower not to run.

Nobody stops you.

[anony-man]

Chubformers drabble #149!

Character: Starscream (ES)

Word count: 1.3k

Frag G.H.O.S.T. and its claim of building a safer, friendlier world. Frag the operation to Unicron and back, and its gang of allies, too. Frag them, frag them all, and good riddance, as the humans would say.

Starscream knew a trap when he saw one, and in a place like that, he knew only bad things could follow. He knew the signs, the lures, the tantalizing offer of freedom and a taste of something better. He wasn’t a fool, no matter what Megatron seemed to think, and he certainly hadn’t just come online yesterday.

Though his spark still pounded and his helm still spun at the very thought of being trapped in that place again, the flier allowed himself a chance to rest and relax a little. It was hard to turn his processor off when it had worked itself up so badly, but things were over now, and with that in mind, he had slowly begun coming down from the terror of it all. The threat of impending danger and government officials spilling from the tree line was ever present in his racing processor, and he could already tell it would remain so for some time… still, Starscream also knew that he needed to calm himself down before something unpleasant followed.

Both Nova Storm and Skywarp slept fitfully nearby, the two fliers lying tangled together against the cool grass under the cover of a maple tree. Having exhausted themselves from the events of the day, they remained deep in recharge and blissfully unaware of the tizzy their third companion had worked himself into. Thank Primus, Starscream thought as he crouched close beside and reached into his subspace. He didn’t need them getting worked up, too.

With careful, quiet movements and bated breath, Starscream slid one cube after another from the extra space in his cockpit. Frag G.H.O.S.T. and its so-called promising operation, he thought to himself as he shoved cubes of fuel into the laps of the sleeping seekers and stacked a pile for himself to eat. He’d been to the other side by then and did not at all like what he had seen.

“Stay here,” he said to no one in particular, all while hoping that by some miracle the two snoozing seekers would somehow hear him. “Don’t get caught and don’t run off. I’ll be back in a few, all right?”

As expected, there was no reply. Starscream sighed and internally facepalmed at how motherly he’d become since reuniting with the two other bots, then rose to his pedes with his share of the fuel in his arms and crept off into the trees.

G.H.O.S.T. had been a cold, hard place for bots like him, and taking his fair share of fuel on his way out the door was only one way the vengeful seeker was looking to get back at the organization. As the sun set, and the day came to an end, he found his resolve weakening and his strength waning… and Primus, was he hungry.

Though waking his companions was something he was desperate to avoid, Starscream hadn’t managed to get very far away from their temporary setup before his trembling legs buckled underneath him. He hit the ground with a painful oof!, the impact sending cubes of energon he had precariously stacked flying in all different directions.

“Scrap,” he hissed under his breath as he rose to all fours and reached a trembling servo out to the nearest discarded cube. “Those idiots…—ugh.”

How pathetic this must have looked from an outside perspective, Starscream thought bitterly as he sat back on his aft and tore the lid free from the first cube. He was left high-wired and anxious, exhausted and starved, and it was all thanks to G.H.O.S.T. The poor seekers who’d fallen dead on their pedes from the strain of escaping weren’t much better off, and he was all the more angry because of it.

Frag G.H.O.S.T. and its filthy operation. Starscream wished desperately to one day have a better opportunity given for sweeter revenge, but right now, he was plenty satisfied with making it out of there alive. That and the weeks worth of fuel he’d managed to smuggle for him and his two companions, of course. G.H.O.S.T. may have gotten him first, but he was intent on getting the last laugh.

He would have never admitted it, but as he began to drink, Starscream almost felt relieved Nova Storm and Skywarp had passed out before getting to the fuel he’d stolen. He could only imagine what a sight he made as he sat there, guzzling cube after cube and suckling the residual fuel that dribbled down his chin off the tips of his fingers. G.H.O.S.T. had left him a wounded, starving animal, but Starscream was finally beginning to right this once again. His appetite was fierce, and his processor was a mess, but each cube of fuel he lifted to his lips and chugged down seemed to make his problems disappear.

Starscream chugged one cube after another, his focus having moved solely to filling the ache in his gut. He was starved in the system, and stifled by their barriers, but now that he was free once again, he could do as he pleased—so he did. One cube became two, and two became three, and before he knew it, the stockpiled stash of energon stolen right from under their noses had become a pile of empty containers tossed aside and licked clean.

Some time had passed between falling to his knees amongst the trees and becoming engulfed in the raging hunger that drove him to eat and eat and eat, but when Starscream came back to his senses, it was to sticky fingers, slack-jawed panting breaths, and a bulging belly that curved beneath the glass of his cockpit.

Starscream closed his optics and grimaced, his callback to reality dawning slowly. As the ache in his belly gradually increased, leaving behind the bittersweet taste of stale energon rations handed out to all the ex-Cons such as himself, he forced his processor to slow its racing and took in a series of deep, steady intakes. The trees rustled against the wind, and somewhere in the distance he could hear the faint sounds of wildlife, but no signs of any curious or concerned seekers were to be found.

Good. They’d slept through most of the night and the appeasement of his ravenous appetite. He couldn’t ask for much more, really.

With his belly aching all the more by the second and the crash that followed an intense and stressful day like the one he had had, Starscream could feel his frame threatening to shut down on him. He was exhausted now, his bare needs having been met, and all he craved from here on out was a good bit of recharge in close proximity of the other seekers. He tried to stand, but his belly protested, a threatening gurgle emitting from its pit in response to his daring attempt at moving.

“Of course,” he muttered aloud, one servo falling back against the grass while the other circled the dome of strained, bloated mesh. “The one night I indulge again and it backfires. Why should I be surprised…”

Well, he supposed he’d at least gotten a chance to eat by now. Besides, Nova Storm and Skywarp weren’t far off; if something were to happen, he’d know.

Disregarding the fact that his stuffed tanks had already made the decision for him, Starscream slumped back against the grass with an audible huff. His optics were closing before he’d so much as folded his servos over his grumbling middle, and by the time he’d found a rhythm to awkwardly soothing his bellyache, he was already drifting off into recharge himself.

The clearing was a mess of empty cubes and a bloated, sleeping seeker, and that much would be found by Starscream’s two sleepy companions come morning. In the meantime, he was content to sleep through the worst of his bellyache… because after all, he didn’t have much of a choice.

[thezombieprostitute]

A Change is Coming

💐Send a whole bouquet!💐Write a surprise drabble or create a moodboard for them. 

This is an idea I had floating around and I don’t know if I’ll ever get to use it on a full fic so I will dress it up in daisies for you, dearest Zombie. Hoping it isn't too dark or bloody.

Warnings: Injury and Blood.

You never thought you’d be a runner. How often did you see those people in their short shorts and loose tanks, toned legs and sweaty foreheads, bouncing with their earbuds in, arms pumping, knees lifting. You could never be one of them... 

Well, now you are. It’s a change. A big change. One long-needed. One made out of fear and panic. 

You have to get healthier. You have to try. You’re starting to feel your age, really, you feel beyond it.  

You tried other things. Yoga was too slow and breathy. Weight-training a bit too heavy and too much. And the gym in general sent you running with sore muscles and no less self-esteem issues. 

Running. Rather, jogging. You’re starting off easy. A slow pace through the trail. You don’t need to worry about the gym bros and their judgment or the girls in their tight leggings filming for Tiktok. It’s just you and nature and oof, your knees! 

Two weeks now. That’s an achievement. Sort of. Two weeks but you gotta keep it up. No time to start patting yourself on the back until you see results. 

Your breath is harried and burning. Your fitbit buzzes at you, slow down. You ease up as you come up and incline. Your thighs are on fire. You wait until you reach another dip before you speed up again. Your heart pumps hotly and you feel that odd calm that comes at your peak. You feel almost good. You feel-- 

Something catches your ankle. Something you couldn’t see as you kept your eyes six feet ahead. At first, the pain doesn’t occur to you, not as you’re sent stumbling forward, crashing, arms flailing as you land on the leaf-strewn trail.  

You lay on your stomach, panting. You groan and roll over, sitting up as you spot the obstruction that tripped you up. A wire tied across the path. It can’t be a coincidence. It’s a trap. 

You look down at your ankle, the one that met the wire. You nearly scream as you see the gash and how your foot hangs to one side. Then you feel it. Your adrenaline courses but cannot numb the agony that creeps up from your injured leg. You hardly feel the scrapes all over your arms and knees as you stare at the torn flesh. 

You babble dumbly. What do you do? How do you get out of here? You’re too afraid to move. Oh god. What’s happened to you? Why you? 

Your hands shake as you hold them before you in shock. You hear a rustle of leaves and the wire slackens. You blink and stair as a man walks across the path, winding it up around his hand. He turns to face you as he unhooks it from the other side. 

He tuts as he comes closer, looming over you. He wears a hoodie and a beanie, a dark stubbly beard across his jaw and cheeks, his blue eyes the only bright thing about him. He tilts his head and squat before you as he examines your ankle with a suck of his teeth. 

“Yikes, that really did a number on you,” he comments, “won’t be walking this one off.” 

You whimper, terrified. He’s unfazed by the sight of your blood. In fact, he’s not bothered at all by the scene before him. By the way he holds the wire, you know he set it up. 

He looks you in the face and tilts his head, “you’re not the one I wanted...” he pulls the knapsack off his shoulder and tucks away the wire inside, “but you’ll do.” 

He swings the bag over his back and moves over you. You cower as he bends to hook his arms under yours. He braces you, the smell of the forest clinging to him. 

“Now, you wanna keep your weight off the right foot, so work with me,” he girds, “you’ll be better off if you do everything I say.” 

You shudder and suck in air as he makes you stand. Your toe hits the ground and jars your ankle. You yelp and cling to him out of instinct. 

“Keep that foot up, sweetheart,” he warns as he turns to stretch his arm across your back, “we got a long way to go.” 

Thanks so much for this, Roo! I really appreciate it!

Is it bad that my first thought is "he's selling me to Kemp!" 😅

Kemp has to back out of the chase for a while, too familiar to too many people. So he hires a few people to do his hunting for him. He doesn't care how they get the girls so long as the girls are alive and pretty.

So Curtis relies on his trapper skills. He finds his prey, gets her usual routine figured out, and sets his trap. But he catches you instead. Pretty enough, Curtis thinks. Can still get my payday.

The trek back to his truck is, of course, slow and painful. You vomit at least once from the pain. Sitting in the truck doesn't help much, either. At least he's got some medical supplies there and starts treating the ankle though you throw up again from the pain.

By the time you get to your destination much of the shock has worn off and the tears are flowing. He helps you limp inside. You know you should scream, try to fight, something, anything but with how casually he treats your pain you get the impression he could make it so much worse without care.

When you're sitting down again, your captor calls out for someone named Kemp. Kemp walks in, sees you and says, "I said 'pretty' girls, Curtis. I'm not buying this one."

"She's pretty enough for your clients. You can always sell her parts with someone else's photo."

"I have a reputation to keep amongst my clients. One hint that they're not getting what they ordered I could be ruined."

"Fine, just pay me half but you're keeping her."

Kemp considers you. "She does seem rather docile. Maybe I could find another use for her besides meat."

Should the story continue? 😆

[ladylooch]

Can you do one where you’re watching the game at home and he gets hurt and how you would react with either Nico or Timo

Oof.. this would be the worst! I picked Nico because I have another request I'm working on for Timo 😊

Word Count: 717

If you’re being honest, you’re having a hard time getting into the Devils game tonight. They’re currently in Ottawa playing the Senators, but something about this night has your mind elsewhere, even as your boyfriend controls the power play at the point. 

You blink, trying to reset your eyes after scrolling through TikTok for the previous fifteen minutes of the game. You toss your phone to the side, crossing your arms and watching as Nico accepts the puck from Jack.

“Come on, babe.” You murmur, pursing your lips as he shoots. “Ugh.” You groan, hearing the telltale clap of the puck off the glass. Nico skates towards the middle of the ice in the offensive zone. You glance down at your fingernail, realizing it has a small chip in it. You tug at the loose piece, then examine the rest of your finer nails. You’re definitely going to need a nail file to avoid snagging your nail on every article of clothing you have.

“Uh oh. Hischier is hurt.” The announcer’s concerned voice cuts through your thoughts.

You snap your gaze back to the ice, watching with millions of other people as your boyfriend skates off in obvious distress.

“No.” You whisper. The camera between the benches zooms in on him as he grimaces in pain. He is barely putting his weight on his right leg, holding his side gingerly. “Baby.” You wince, sitting up on the couch. The camera cuts back to the power play and you watch hopeful for another shot of Nico.

When you see him again, he has fallen off the bench and squirming in agony. Once he regains his footing, he doubles over in pain, leaning awkwardly to the left as the trainer speaks to him. Nico is tough. If he’s showing this kind of pain, it’s bad. Your breathing begins to shorten. Your vision narrows to only take in the TV even as your phone begins to buzz with incoming texts. Your hands dash through your hair, finger prints shoving forcefully into your scalp.

“Please be okay.” Your voice waivers as you speak alone to Nico through the TV. “I need you to be okay.”

They finally show the replay and you watch in horror as the Ottawa player forcefully cross checks Nico where he doesn’t have padding. It’s a hip… maybe a rib… and you feel yourself get violently angry at the image. Several swearwords flow from your mouth as you grab your phone, thinking about blasting off a social media post in disgust at the lack of call from the refs. Cooler winds prevail as you see Nico skating on the ice during the next TV timeout, ready to rejoin the game after taking a few shifts off. Instead, you navigate to messages, sending a text for him to call you as soon as he can.

His call comes in after securing the win.

“Hi sweetheart.” He murmurs to you as you gasp his name in greeting. 

“Are you okay?” The words are strung together anxiously.

“I’m okay.”

“Nico, you better not be lying-“

“I don’t lie to you, babe. I’m okay. It just stung for a bit.” You let yourself feel relief for the first time. “I have a pretty nasty bruise though.”

“Already?”

“Yeah.” You can feel him shrug even without seeing him. He’s so calm and collected as always. “Might need a few kisses to help it heal…” He trails off. Your cheeks get warm and a buzz begins in your body at the thought of nursing him back to health with your mouth.

“As the captain’s girlfriend, I did vow to do whatever is necessary to help the team.” You quip at him, unable to stop the wide grin spreading your lips. Your heart still hurts a bit for the man who holds it in his hands 400 miles away.

“The team appreciates your sacrifice.” Nico snickers back. You hear the sound of pressure releasing through the speaker, signaling the bus is beginning to move. “Alright beautiful, I’m on my way home to you. I’ll see you soon.”

“Be safe. I love you.” You murmur to him.

“Love you. If you’re not awake when I get home, goodnight too.”

“I’ll be awake.” You promise him.

“Good girl.” He tells you before he ends the call. 

[thebardisabird]

If you haven't written it before; how do you think the boys (or boy of your choice) would deal with an s/o with really bad period cramps? Like they make the reader bed bound?

Istg I was DYING earlier.

Oof been there before, Anonym. Hope you're doing better. I've already done a period based one, but I can zero on in on the bed bound aspect. Like what would they do if you were curled up in bed from how bad the pain was. Under the cut cause it's just a smidge long:

Osomatsu is kinda clueless, not gonna lie. He's concerned of course because he doesn't want you to be in pain, but knowing next to nothing about the inner workings of female anatomy, he's almost like a deer in headlights making what you can only describes as his "yikes face". He's offering you things like money and alcohol to soothe you but you finally have to wearily point to the heating pad that's on your nearby desk. Once you finally start to feel a little better, you find Osomatsu teary-eyed at your bedside, half because he was frightened you were gonna die, half because he feels a little bad for not knowing what to do.

Karamatsu is a little more wise to the fact that you get periods and what that typically entails. However the first time you have period cramps this bad he panics, fearing that you might require medical attention somehow. He retrieves your heating pad and gently presses it on the lower part of your belly. In a nervous sweat he coaches you to breathe deeply while holding you close. You realize at some point he must have watched a Lamaze class and is conflating the two, but you don't hold it against him, because of course he means well. Plus the combination of heat and breathing allows your cramps to begin to dull, a sensation that allows for your relief giving way to a comforting cuddle session with Karamatsu in thanks.

Choromatsu is another panicked one, but his reason is because he can't get his head on straight. He's much more practical and does his research to make sure he's prepared should you need him - but in practice he's freaking out because he loves you and you're in pain and he starts thinking of all the things that could be wrong. Especially when you're moaning from how bad the period pains are keeping you doubled over. He has to take a second to collect himself before he can finally help you. A little pain reliever and some time he finally finds you sleeping, his shaking hands releasing the death grip on the doorway in relief.

Ichimatsu is actually prepared for this! I've said it before, but the cats in his neighborhood tell him what he needs to know. They hear your pained whimpering - and they alert him! Tell him what they've seen other people do to help with this specific kind of pain. When Ichimatsu approaches you, he gently moves you to the bathroom where a warm bath is running. Something to help melt down the intense pain you're feeling. It does actually bring you some relief! Ichimatsu wraps you up in a warmed up blanket once you decide you're done with your bath. You'll remain cuddled up until one of you needs to move.

Jyushimatsu's approach is far different. He doesn't exactly understand why you're hurting so badly, but he does understand how aching muscles work and that that's something stretching can help with. Seeing that you're bed bound from the pain, he offers to do the work for you. You're confused by what that means at first, but he snatches your ankles up and moves your legs to mimic you walking. It feels awkward to be manipulated this way, but you soon realize that the movement actually is dulling the pain you feel. With some time your thrumming body lulls to a manageable ache and your softened sigh gives Jyushimatsu the go ahead to let you rest. You fall into a much needed sleep.

Todomatsu is the other brother who is completely prepared. Having female friends clues him in to a thing or two about periods and all the trouble they can wreak on your body. He has it all: heating paid, pain relievers, even a small muscle roller that he's willing to use on you if you need him to. When the cramps get this bad, he's immediately at your side, with some water and medicine ready. You're actually impressed at how knowledgeable he is, but he just rolls his eyes at the compliment saying that he has a little more common sense than the average man and to be lucky it wasn't one of his dumb older brothers. In the same breath though, he expresses he's happy that you feel better when you finally do and was glad he could help you.

[cheerstotheelites-if]

Any ROs!

"I nearly lost my mind when I thought that I've lost you."

I had to think about real hard who to choose here, hence the delay 😭

~•~•~

I fall apart And when I fall apart I'm no one else's You own my heart You own my heart like no one else's

– Lvr Boy - awfultune

~•~•~

"Ah, shit." Eliseo grimaces as he shakes off some dirt from his clothes. To end the day with collapsing an old building to kill something would be something that only happens in movies. Unfortunately, Eliseo has a tendency to make those chaotic fantasies come true.

"Should've burnt the house." He grumbles to himself, spitting out some dust that got into his mouth with a disgusted look. Looking around, the expanse of the prairie under the dim moonlight, he stands alone. No matter where he turned, the grasslands are kind enough to wave at him in greeting.

...

Hope you got out safe.

...

Sighing, Eliseo stretches a bit with a small groan, before his arms fall slack beside him. He spins for a moment, stops at a random direction, then starts walking. No idea where he's going, but it's better than to stay out in the open.

It's quiet.

Only the grass being crunched under his feet and the rustle of small plants were the only noises. Save for the occasional night critter that passes by, nothing else made a noise. He reaches for his phone from his pocket, stopping in his tracks when he doesn't feel it. He pats his other pocket, throws his head back to the sky, and lets out a frustrated groan.

"Of course." He lets out an exasperated sigh and rubs his face. As he fumes out a healthy string of curse words, he starts walking again.

...

He doesn't know how long it's been since he started.

The moon's way higher up now, and his legs have been aching for a while now. His throat's dry and sweat coats his neck and back. His eyes are fighting to stay open despite his mind trying to shut everything down.

Gods, maybe he is gonna die in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. His moms will wonder if he's ran away and try to look for him, unaware that he's in a place neither of them went to. Everyone else he burnt his bridges with would probably be happy to know about his death. Zeph and Weylyn would be heartbroken, of course.

Then there's you.

...

He must be hallucinating from thinking about you so much in his fatigued state that he swears he just heard your voice calling out to him. It was faint at first, and he just ignored it as he continued walking.

Then it got louder.

And closer.

His ears perk up upon hearing rapidly approaching footsteps. Stopping in his tracks, he turns his head and—

An audible "OOF" escapes him as the air gets knocked out of him from the sudden hug he's tackled into. He falls back onto the grass, groaning in pain.

"What the fuck." Eliseo looks down, frowning, but halts upon meeting your tear stained eyes looking up at him.

"I nearly lost my mind when I thought I lost you." You sniffled, burying your face in his chest as you hug him tight.

A sigh of relief leaves Eliseo's lips as his head falls back to the ground. One of his hand reaches up and pats your back lazily in a soothing manner.

"I told you," he chuckles, "I'm a stubborn piece of shit."

"And an asshole for scaring me half to death." You added, voice a bit muffled.

"That too." Eliseo gazes up at the sky before him, stars twinkling in the colorful cosmos of beyond. "... I'm sorry for scaring you."

You shake your head and rest your cheek on his chest. "You're alive, Eliseo. That's what more important, really."

He nods, swallowing a lump that formed in his throat. "I guess so."

[polyamorouspunk]

So I had a kinda weird week

My parents decided to do a vacation week in my college town while I had lectures and it’s been kinda… uuuuh

I also had migraine two days this week (one actually today, it always gets better after sleep, food and some hefty ibuprofen) and my knees decided to act up

Consequently I actually used my walking cane on campus yesterday after lectures and today in front of people who know me 🫣 [emoji hiding behind hands]

Like, I got my cane early this year and since the semester break I started to actually carry it in my backpack everyday (I don’t need the space for my laptop this semester) but I’m still anxious and shy about using my cane on campus

I used to for my weekly shopping trips. Actually, I even made a surprised pikachu on the topic because “if I’m carrying my cane around anyway, I might as well use it even if my knees aren’t “that bad” because I don’t need to be in pain to use my mobility aid” was such a galaxy brain moment for me!

But it’s different to use my mobility aid in front of people who know me and I’m still worried someone will confront me and ask questions and then I’ll get called a faker because no doctor ever actually told me to get a mobility aid (I live in a country with mandatory health insurance and should actually go to the doctors about getting checked until they find what the fresh hell is up with my joints)

But, uuuuhh, you wanted a story of the day and here’s some anxiety vent 😬 [grimace emoji]

Oof yeah using mobility aid scary.

I live in America so it gets kind of frustrating when I say like “my job took the stools away because we ‘sit too much’ and now I have to stand to use the computer desk and it sucks as someone with a chronic pain condition” to have people out of the US be like ISNT THAT ILLEGAL or something because it’s like no actually most jobs force you to stand for hours on end, meanwhile other people are like “can’t you just get a doctor’s note that says you need to sit because you have chronic pain issues” and to be like “that’s such a slippery slope what if they start denying me hours or something” which considering my old manger also had chronic pain issues and worked full time so maybe not but I feel like people outside of the US don’t realize how fucked you can be playing games with being disabled in the US.

Being called a faker if I ever used a mobility aid would be the least of my concerns, I would be worried it would hurt my chances of getting jobs, hours, housing by myself, etc.

I DO wish that when I was having a bad day a cane would help but unfortunately both of my legs hurt equally so I would need something like a rollator or a wheelchair. My best friend offered to mail me a rollator (bless her) but I said no I didn’t want her to have to go through the hassle.

I’m lucky that I’m on meds that negate my chronic pain but I forgot to take them last night and I woke up in debilitating pain.

The idea of having a cool looking mobility aid is fun though! But hell yeah doesn’t hurt to carry it around with you. Beat the shit out of people with it. Defense weapon if needed.

Oof about your parents vacationing in your college town.

I’m sorry about your migraines, I hope that they go away soon.

[bugbyte]

Personal, terrible body updates, general venting (it’s a CW and a blog title!)

Had another round of PT today, oof. We are into working on my arms and shoulders finally. My hands have improved significantly since starting all this, which is great, but the rest of my body is having a rougher go with it. It’s interesting to be able to pinpoint the really bad parts of my joints, and also observe how the rest of my body has been compensating to make up for the deficit. Also watching while the physio pokes part of my shoulder and the complete opposite side of my body reacts to try and carry it is pretty wild. Biology and physiology are amazing and frustrating all at once! But boy did I ever need the world’s longest nap after that today.

At the moment we’re going with “it’s probably some flavor of Ehlers-Danlos syndrome, with something else like POTS mixed in for extra spice,” so that’s. Ehh. But at least it’s a direction. Still, a heap of tests in my future as we find out how far the rabbit hole goes down. I get to talk to someone about the potential POTS aspect tomorrow, which has me anxious and also hopeful because at least information gives me the power to do something about any of this. It’s worrying because it’s heart related stuff, but also it seems like the kind of thing that can be managed so at least there’s that. I’ve been using my aging Apple Watch to keep tabs with the Heartwatch app for a few weeks and the data is pretty stunning. Highly recommend that if you’re in a situation like mine where you’re just looking for patterns, it’s about $5, or Tachymon which is free but a little more limited.

On the plus side, to help out with my lower body, I’m getting some sweet knee braces, which I am super excited about. Practically robot legs! Being able to walk places with confidence my legs won’t fall apart under me! Wow! It’s gonna be great. I’ve had a really bad time over the past year with mobility, so I’m really hoping this helps a bit. I’ve got plans to start going on short Pokémon Go walks when the weather warms up as a physical therapy supplement. It’s wild to me that like 10 years ago I was able to just push through this kind of pain and run a marathon, because I just assumed this is how everyone always felt doing physical activity and that was why marathons are considered hard. (It isn’t and, it isn’t.) I doubt I’ll ever be able to do that again, but maybe I can handle like a 5k or something someday.

Since my hands have been better, I’ve been getting in some comic work lately and it feels really good. I’m pretty excited about the pages I’m currently on and just. Really happy about making art, and liking the art I’m making. I’m close to having a second page totally done and I’ve got a good start on a third. I’m going to try and get at least 5 pages done before I commit to uploading, so I’ve got some buffer room, but the more I can get done, the better. I’ve spent hours on the current one and I can no longer tell if it’s due to my process or just being out of practice while my hands were improving. Either way, progress.

Anyway, just blabbing about health stuff because I’m anxious and it makes me feel better, and also I can look at this later when I’m not feeling great and recognize that it isn’t like that all the time. And comic updates stuff, because I want to draw so bad, and maybe people are interested in why I’ve been so slow. I feel kind of weird talking about it, but also nobody talks about this stuff plainly and we probably should. Oh well.

[new-royston-cursebreakers]

Find the Word

Thank you for the tag, @eli-writes-sometimes! Find its post here.

My words are pain, protect, and perform. I'll tag @dogmomwrites, @gummybugg, and @writersandpoetsunited for the words quite, rebel, and song.

From The Curse of New Royston:

pain

A shadow looms over them. Cricket turns to see the empty face of Gio’s palm reaching toward them. Eneas pushes Cricket back, reaches in his windbreaker, and vaults forward. There’s a flash of silver—Gio’s hand darts away. “Come on!” Eneas screams, tugging Cricket away with his free hand, the other clutching a bloodied razor blade. Feeling a numbness creep up his legs, Cricket follows along, stumbling as Eneas drags him toward the door. He dares a glance back; Gio sits grasping his hand, face twisted in pain. He opens his squinted eyes just enough to catch a glimpse of them before they get away. The malice etched in his gaze sends Cricket’s heart pounding again.

protect

Cricket starts to stride over to Fletcher’s position. Still slightly bitter that his idea didn’t pan out, Gio takes another swipe at Cricket, this time smacking him right in the side. Cricket lets out a muffled ‘oof’ as Gio’s fingers wrap around him, lifting him up. But before Gio can blink, Cricket’s slid his way out from his grasp, twisting and contorting his body to get through his fingers and jumping down to the mattress again. “Not gonna get me that easy,” he teases. “C’mon, Fletcher. Pick me up!” While Gio’s still embarrassed that he couldn’t do something as simple as catch a bracket-one person, he’s at least thankful that Cricket’s got the reflexes needed to protect himself, just in case anything goes wrong.

perform

Not to mention the figure himself! If Gio’s not worrying about the computer, he’s worrying about who exactly that was, why he was watching him—he’s got enough to be worried about with the world’s eyes on him, with the constant expectation to perform, to be at his best, he doesn’t need some creep stalking him as well! That’s assuming the figure was even real—it could just be a hallucination brought on by all the water in his brain. He hopes that’s the case, seeing as his parents won’t do anything about it either way; better a fake danger than a real one.

[monaisme]

Sicktember: Day 24

#24- Tales From the Waiting Room

It was supposed to be a quick run-in. She’d brought Stella at the emergency room reception desk her favourite iced coffee and hoped that she could call in a favour, see a doctor, and hopefully confirm that she’d only tweaked a muscle in her right shoulder blade and not done something worse.

The Parker household could not afford for this to be anything other than that.

Seeing as Parker luck was a real thing, even if by marriage, it only made sense that moments after Stella gave May a conspiratorial wink and nod and directed her toward the not too full waiting area for ‘just a sec,’ the first ambulance arrived.

May sat back with a sigh, and then winced. This was not how she’d planned to spend her day. She had been looking forward to a sip n’ bitch session with Pepper while Peter and Tony messed around in the lab that evening, and had a blissfully plan free day otherwise. Yes, it hurt to move certain ways, and yes, the pain was a little much when she inhaled too deeply, but still. She was convinced that she only needed to do the whole heat-rest repeat thing and would everything would eventually sort itself out.

But then Peter saw her breath catch as she tried to pull her coffee mug from the cupboard earlier that morning and the muscle had hurt just right.

It was over for her once he’d pulled out those big brown eyes and then May was grabbing her insurance card and purse and heading out the door toward Mount Sinai- Queens.

What else could she have done? Those eyes should be registered with the FBI or something.

So with nothing to fill her time with but her phone or people watching, May made what she hoped to be the smart choice. It would serve no one for her to screw up her neck by staring at her phone for who knows how long, so staring out the windows to the sidewalk and patient entrance it was. Besides, she spent half her workday looking at screens so the appeal had been lost a long time ago. At least it seemed to be an average sort of day, thank goodness. Patient traffic didn’t seem too excessive, people were coming in, and people were leaving, which meant things were moving well, and nothing May could see from her seat screamed imminent ‘code blue’... even with the ambulance that just pulled into the emergency vehicle bay—

—Which meant that May had just jinxed herself, as demonstrated by the yellow cab screeching to a halt in front of the building to drop someone off for care. The sliding doors to the ER opened wide, and a pale, middle-aged woman clutching a sandwich baggy full of ice with one hand while pressing her other dishtowel-wrapped hand to her stomach rushed in—or maybe staggered in was a better way to put it?

Oof. Either way, May was getting the impression that she shouldn’t be here.

Then May saw it, way sooner than any of the other staffers did, and so she stood, then called out, “Clive!” to the veteran security guard manning the security desk just beyond the entrance. Clive had been at Mount Sinai Queens for as long as May had for a reason. She yelled, “Chair! Quick!”And pointed to the line of wheelchairs set alongside his desk and then the woman in need using her left arm. She watched as Clive put the pieces together in a split second and rushed to help the woman into a wheelchair before her legs gave out completely and her visit became something even more expensive.

With a hasty nod of thanks to May for the save, Clive turned his attention to the Lisa, the triage nurse who had finally come out from behind her own desk to help them. May didn’t think too much of Lisa on the best of days—no one needed the bathroom that much or to be on the phone for ‘emergencies’— and she guessed that Clive felt the same as he brushed Lisa’s ‘helping’ hands away from the wheelchair, and took over pushing the poor woman and her mystery body part back through the security doors to the treatment area.

If she’d have been on shift, May would’ve bet real money that Lisa had been on her phone again, but at least there was Clive, and he would forever remain a rock star in May’s eyes.

May sat back down then, adjusted the purse at her side, and prepared to resume her *fingers crossed* short wait when the relatively well dressed woman seated across from her cleared her throat.

“Shit.” May swore to herself under her breath as the sound made her realize her oversight. She fumbled through her purse and pulled out a fresh mask then smiled politely to the woman opposite as she put it on.

The woman rolled her eyes but moved past what she obviously felt was a personal slight, and broke the silence with an inquiry, “The security guard. He knows you?”

And while May wanted more than anything to roll her eyes and tell her to mind her own damned business, this was May’s place of employment and as such, she was a representative- blah- blah- blah, and she braced herself instead. She knew exactly where this was headed, so she simply answered, “He does.”    

The woman’s gaze sharpened, seeming to assess May as she sat before her, “I’m trying to figure out if you’re office staff, a nurse, or something else. I hoped I could tell by looking at your hands but that’s only made it all the more unclear.”

May couldn’t help but look down at them before cringing inwardly. Her fingernails were clean, trimmed and filed short and, yes, the Sally Hansen nail polish was starting to chip, but only a bit, and she’d have gotten that dealt with today if she hadn’t done whatever she’d done to her stupid shoulder.  

May sighed and folded her hands together into her lap, then tamped down a bit of a cough.

Maybe she’d have to take Pepper up on that offer of mani/pedis one of these days, after all. 

“Wonderful! You see my point, then—you could be custodial staff for all I know, and wouldn’t that be embarrassing for me?”

May’s jaw dropped in disbelief at the gall of this woman. She glanced toward the still empty desk where Clive had been sat, but she could only assume things had taken a turn once they’d gone to the back and she was on her own. She exhaled slowly to calm herself, then replied, “At this exact moment, I’m just a woman waiting to see a doctor, ma’am, so if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to, um... yeah.” May got up, collected her purse, and moved over to a row of chairs closer to the triage desk.

Notification of another incoming ambulance carrying two gunshot victims was easier to hear from where she was sitting now, and so May closed her eyes, and sighed small enough to not aggravate her damned shoulder blade again. She was definitely feeling the weight of the day already and could only try to mentally prepare herself for what she should have known was going to be a long wait.

She ignored the rustling sound across from her.

“That wasn’t very polite, you know?” The woman had moved seats, determined to continue her unwanted conversation. “I was simply asking because I’ve already been waiting for three hours and only hoped you could help me instead. That’s what you do, right? Help people?”

May’s eyes snapped open and tried moving her neck from side to side, wondering if she just did some stretches, would things improve enough that she could justify leaving without being seen? –And wondering if this woman would ever take the hint.

“Well?” The woman pushed for a reply.

It hadn’t even been fifteen minutes, and she was so close to calling it done—except she knew that Peter would never forgive her.

And so May endured. “I’m sure that everyone else here feels like they’ve waited too long, too. I’m afraid it wouldn’t be fair to—”

“It’s not even a big deal!” The woman cut May off. “I’m certain I’ve got some wax build up in one of my ears and it’s driving me mad. It would only take a minute for you to do that flushing thing that you nurses do, right?”

May simply blinked as she tried to process the ridiculousness of this woman behaviour. Really? “I’m sure your primary care provider could get you in and have that taken care of without you needing to waste—” What May wanted to say was ‘precious medical resources and man hours with something so NOT urgent, but instead she continued, “your time.”

“But if you help me, I don’t have to waste anymore of my time, see?” Was this woman really so clueless?

Another one of May’s coworkers came into the waiting room from the back with a chart in hand. “Claire Westerfield,” she called out to the room at large. May hoped, but knew there was no way this woman was going to be called in to be seen any time in the next six to eight hours with the variety of actual injuries and illnesses present in the ER.

An older woman got up from her seat with the help of a dishevelled young man—maybe her son? It was a slow trek, but eventually they made their way to the treatment area and disappeared through the doors.

Lucky.

The woman huffed in annoyance. “I bet they don’t even have insurance.”

“And I bet that’s none of your business.” May snapped back. The ER was an harassment-free zone. There were even notices on the wall—and May’s patience was running thin.

“You say that like someone who cares... and yet, here we still sit.”

May crossed her arms, grunted in pain as the muscle pulled, and breathed through it—but said nothing.

Sometimes silence made the most impact.

The main entrance doors slid open again, a rush of people came in from the street, and still, Clive and Lisa were missing in action. Stella, who had long since finished her iced coffee, stepped out from behind her desk and took over.

The woman huffed even louder, “At this rate, I’m never going to get seen.”

May wished she could take a deeper breath. This woman was getting her heart rate up.

A crackle sounded from nearby.

Shit.

Another ambulance was incoming.

Oblivious, the woman went on. “Nurses don’t get paid that much, do they?” She contemplated her next words then rifled through her purse. “I think I have a few hundred dollars in my wallet. Is that what it will take for this to get done?” She pulled the wallet from her purse before May could protest, not that it stopped her.

“Ma’am!” May hissed. “I’m being as polite as I can be. Please put that away—and stop it! This is enough.” May hissed. “If you can’t leave me alone, I’ll report you to security and have someone escort you out.”

“You can’t deny me medical care!”

“Then behave like you’re here for it and not getting your car from the valet! Now, if you’ve developed new symptoms that could impact your potential treatment, or if your existing symptoms have worsened, you are more than welcome to head back over to the triage desk.” She cast a quick glance toward the desk and Stella doing her best to do her job quickly and efficiently. “Then wait for the nurse to get to you, and tell her all about it. She’s more than capable of assisting you.”

May, once again, grabbed her purse and moved to sit a few rows away—or at least intended to—

—Except that the woman hissed out a barely audible, “Bitch,” and her leg shot out, tangling into May’s legs before obviously correcting her positioning in her seat. She called out a faux-shocked, “Oh!” and made no effort to hide her malicious grin.

May knew there was no way she could catch herself, not that she had the time to try. She’s only tried to make herself small to mitigate the damage. She cried out in pain as her right side slammed into the floor, knocking the wind out of her. Her desperate gasps turned to coughs as she tried to catch her breath.

Thank goodness there were still good people in the world. If she’d had the ability to focus on more than getting oxygen into her lungs, she’d have seen the cluster of other waiting room occupants standing up and calling for help... and security.

It felt like forever for May, but within moments, Clive was at her side, along with another newer security guard, though he disappeared from her sight almost immediately.

And all May could think was that she was making a scene.

May tried to get up, still trying to get her breathing under control, but Clive placed a restraining hand on her shoulder to keep her on the floor. “You know the protocol, May,” He explained calmly, even though she knew this. “Stay still till we can get someone come out to assess you. I know it sucks, but...” Clive glanced up and smiled. “I guess your coffee bribe worked after all,” he chuckled. “Lucky you! Personalized service!”

Stella’s face popped into view across from his. “You know,” she crouched down low, placing herself in front of May and blocking her view of some sort of scuffle going on towards her feet. “The coffee was more than enough to do the trick, hun. You didn’t need to do all of this—” Stella winked teasingly.

May smiled as she coughed, finally feeling like she could manage to speak. “Points for effort,” she grunted out and shifted slowly to position herself to stand.

“Hey! You know better than to do that!” Stella chastised as she tried to stop her.

But May glared. “And you know I’m not an idiot. Now let me get up.”

Stella raised her hands in surrender. “Fine, but will you at least let me get you a wheelchair for now? Thanks to Manhattan Barbie over there, you’ve just been bumped to the front of the line.”

“Wha-?” May looked twisted a little to see what was going on.

And what a sight it was. Clive’s co-worker, who was obviously newer and less adept at the art of zip tie wrangling, was struggling to get Madam Earwax under control while Clive looked on from his place beside May with amusement.

May looked up at Stella, confused. “What happened?”

Stella snapped right into nurse mode with May’s inquiry. “Did you hit your head, May? Does it feel tender anywhere?” Stella started palpating May’s scalp.

May swatted her hands away, getting more than a little frustrated by her prone position on the floor. “No! Stop it! I didn’t hit anything! I’m—” May stopped speaking for a moment as her lungs spasmed again. “I’m fine,” she finally reiterated. “I just don’t know what happened?”

“What happened is the woman who had apparently been hassling you?” Stella formed the beginning of her statement as a question, then waited for May to confirm with a quick head nod before continuing, “Well, she decided that you weren’t getting away with whatever you did to her, and intentionally put out a leg to trip you.”

May’s eyes widened in shock, “Are you serious? That cow tripped me?”

Stella nodded, “Yup, so Harry is restraining her—or trying, I guess? – until the police get here, so you don’t need to worry about her bothering you again.”

Another crackle sounded, and all May could think was that the hospital really needed to invest in some clearer sounding technology... and damn, another ambulance.

Stella recognized the face, “You don’t need to concern yourself with that, love. If you can believe it, Lisa’s finally gotten off her phone and decided to do her job, so we’re going to get you up into the wheelchair she’s bringing over here and we’re going to get you into the back. I’m pretty sure you’re going to be dealing with one of the interns for now, but if you promise to bring me another coffee the next time we’re both in, I’ll make sure it’s that really good looking one with the accent, deal?”

May choked out a quiet laugh, “Deal.”

[skiplo-wave]

In the past four years, I have not tested positive once for COVID-19. But they treated me like I had if someone in my household came down with it and tested positive. Apparently some people can't test positive.

Well, this year for the first time I tested positive. It felt like a really bad cold. I got sick with it in June. I ended up having to go to the hospital because my chest felt tight like it did when I get bronchitis. I get medicine and a inhaler. Get sent home. I start getting better. I relapsed in July and went back to the hospital. I remember having really bad pain in my back, but mostly down my spine. I was there a lot longer and too the point I needed physical therapy. I lost all strength in my legs. They are still not 100% but I can walk. My ankles feel weird sometimes like they are numb. I had to get me high-top shoes to strengthen them. I still get pain in my spine. But my doctor said that sometimes COVID-19 can cause polio-like symptoms. I am vaccinated too. I haven't got the newest one. They don't want me taking it yet. I have to be better for so many weeks before taking it and because I relapsed once, they want to make sure I am not going to do it again.

:(

Oof

Hope you get better soon