#I CAN THINK OF ANYTHING WHENEVER MY MEDS WEAR OFF

[doostyaudi]

I gotta stop taking showers at 1am chat i get the most insane drawing ideas

[iminlovebutimkeepinitlowkey]

Part 2 to rafe with a girlfriend who has chronic migraines. This is a little more self indulgent/ based on my experiences so if you’re not interested, don’t worry I have more writing coming soon!! Part 1!

He treats you like glass, and while it frustrates the hell out of you, you still appreciate it because he does it to protect you. He always has a snarky remark for when people tell you to “just drink water” or “go for a walk” because he has been by your side while you tried any and everything to help you, and drinking water and going for a walk doesn’t do shit.

The debilitating migraines only make Rafe even more protective over you. Yes, he can be a little overbearing once in a while, but it’s all coming from a good place. He doesn’t go as far as to limit what you can and can’t do, so he’ll let you do whatever you want while he sits with his worry. Whenever you’re out in the sun, he has a timer on his watch or phone to make sure you have a little snack and a good amount of water. And if you’re on the golf course with him all day, or you’ve been in the pool with friends, he’ll treat you to a cute smoothie or a fruity drink to carry around with you.

The hottest thing that he does is when he taps your lips for you to open your mouth and puts your meds on your tongue. He’ll pour water into your mouth and tip your head back for you too

While Rafe is not the most mentally stable person out there, he is soooooo understanding and caring when you’re feeling down from all the medication in your system. He’s at your side when your heart is racing and you can’t stop crying. He kisses your head and holds you tight, and he never gets upset if you snap or shut him out because he knows that feeling all to well from when he was going through withdrawals when he became sober. That feeling of the pain meds wearing off is so incredibly unsettling, and he’s there for you every step of the way.

He even supports your decision to cut out medication unless it’s an emergency due to that very reason. And while the unexplained sadness from the medication goes away, he still cares for you when you feel anxious and guilty for having a migraine.

He stays up almost the whole night filled with anxiety that you’ll wake up in just as much pain, if not more, as when you fell asleep. He’ll sit by your side and rub your head/ giving you head scratches for hours in end while you try to sleep the pain away. He doesn’t even think about stopping for a moment until he knows your fast asleep. He loves you too much to let you be in pain and not do anything about it

My Masterlists!!

[systemic-chaos]

i beg of you, please give us your nsfw franco headcanons 🥺

I'm bored at work and finally got my meds refilled, so here you go!! Everything is gonna go under the cut again because I don't want to subject anyone to horny Franco Barbi nonsense unknowingly

- First off, Franco is bisexual to me. I think he wants a daddy just as bad as he wants a mommy, since he barely had either one.

- He's also got so much internalized homophobia going on. Man feels horribly emasculated by liking men, which either results in being overly aggressive to other men to try to reclaim his feelings of masculinity (cough cough my easterman headcanons) or finding the act of being emasculated more erotic when it's from a guy. Take your pick depending on the guy!

- Canonically, he's got erectile dysfunction about anything that isn't humiliating. I also extend this to getting involuntary boners whenever he is humiliated, even if it's from someone he doesn't like. It's a sort of trauma response for him, since I don't think the whole stepmom situation was even remotely able to be consensual. I mean, he was like a teenager when that happened if I remember correctly, and teenagers can't consent to adults especially if they are in a position of power over them. All this to say, man's erections have a mind of their own separate from what Franco wants.

- Franco is HEAVILY into ageplay. The baby schitck is DEFINITELY sexual to him. At the same time, I think he finds it both comforting and arousing. It feels a deep gash in his psyche left by continual trauma to go back to a simpler time where he can be comfortable and warm. His favorite sex is when people indulge his fetishes about ageplay.

- Franco is NOT good at penatrative sex. He's a little too selfish in that regard, and I think he doesn't really know how to properly use his dick in that kind of way. He'll just frantically hump you a few times, then he's off like a rocket. Short refractory period if you make fun of him for it, though!

-On the other hand, he's GREAT at oral. Hello, oral fixation! He can happily suck dick or eat you out for hours without a break. It's like a bottle to him. He'll whine about not getting a turn, but he won't really mean it.

-He likes to be denied, up to a point. The humiliation of begging someone else for an orgasm is really nice, that is until it starts to hurt. He can and will throw tantrums about blue balls.

-Sex without humiliation is rare for Franco (since he puts too much stock in needing to get hard) but if you were to avoid humiliating him, he'd be both surprised and grateful. Degradation is sexy, but he values feeling like someone's special little guy who can do a good job pleasing them.

-He'd also be a diehard romantic to anyone who slept with him more than once voluntarily. I'm taking rose petals on the bed, candles everywhere, slow sensual music. Man wants very badly to be seductive and loving.

-If you humiliated him too intensely during sex, he might have a panic attack. He's prone to flashbacks about his father's beatings, and very rarely about his stepmother (since he mostly convinces himself that it was consensual with her). You could probably get him off even if he was panicking, but watch out; He'd definitely try to kill you after.

-He's a champion of aftercare and pillow talk. He's a cuddly little monster and he can be surprisingly considerate to others. He'd praise you to the moon and back, letting you know exactly how great you were to him. He'd also try to get you to take a bath with him. Baby loves baths.

Also random headcanon, but I think the man wears a onesie after sex and just zonk out with his binkie in his mouth. Just lights out for the lil guy.

Hope you enjoyed!! I might do more headcanons, both NSFW and otherwise, sometime!!! Mostly I'm thinking about Mother Gooseberry...

[prismatica-the-strange]

The End of The World as We Know It | What if We're Chasin' After Life by the Light of the Cherry on the Tip of My Lips?

Warnings: 18+, smut, soft smut, Loveday has a small anxiety attack at the welcome party

Cherry by Morningsider | Banner By @saradika-graphics | Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Daryl watches from outside as everyone gathers in Diana's house at the Welcome party, just about to give up on himself going in when he sees Loveday through the window.

Her hair's pulled back and she's wearing a black, short-sleeve dress. She looks nice, like she belongs here, but just as he's about to turn and leave he sees her smile falter, then her whole face goes oddly stiff.

She disappears from sight and stumbles out the front door a moment later. She pulls out her ipod she's been carrying since day one and has finally been able to charge, and puts her earbuds in. She braces herself on the rail, her eyes squeezing shut as she takes a deep breath.

He approaches her carefully, trying not to spook her. He's fully prepared to kick the ass of whoever made her freak out, but he can't help but crack a small smile when he hears her mumbling the chorus of Teenage Dirtbag.

"Hey," He lightly touches her shoulder when she doesn't hear him, quickly pulling back when she jumps and her head snaps up in his direction, "Jus' me."

"Daryl," She huffs as she pulls one earbud out. Her chest heaves and her hands shake, looking like a cornered animal, "I- how long have you-? When did...."

"Long enough, you alright?"

"I... I couldn't breathe in there," She admits, her nails digging into the white paint of the rail, "Fuck, Daryl, house parties! I couldn't go to them before, not even if it was just family! I wasn't-..."

She steps close to him and leans her forehead against his shoulder, gripping his vest, her voice frayed, "'m not made for this suburbia shit."

He knows the exact feeling.

He wraps his arms around her and feels her start to calm down.

"It's been so long since I've had to deal with social anxiety my body can't tell the difference between smalltalk and a room full'a walkers."

"You take yer meds?" He asks and she nods, "Didn't help?"

"Wouldn't be out here if they did..."

She pulls back, hands still tight on his vest as she takes another deep breath.

"Did you wanna go in?" She asks, not looking up at him, "I might be able to push through if I've got you there."

She looks up to see his troubled frown, "... Not really..."

"Oh, thank god," She breathes, head falling against the center of his chest for a moment, "Cause I seriously don't think I can go back in there."

"Yeah, 'd rather fight the room full'a walkers."

She snickers and looks up at him with a shaky smile, before looking confused, "Did you shower?"

He bristles a little, pushing her hand away when she touches his bangs, "Yeah, what of it?"

"Just feels like forever since I've seen your hair clean," She shrugs, "Looks soft... You wanna go back to the house?"

He nods, chewing his lip when she takes his hand and leads him down the porch steps.

She stumbles when they step off the curb into the street and she groans, "Fuckin' shoes. I go for looks over practicality one time..."

She bends down to unbuckle the straps of the heels and takes them off.

"Here," He holds out his hand to take them for her.

"Thanks."

She takes his hand again as they start down the road. Her free hand continues to shake until she wraps them both around his arm, leaning her head against his shoulder.

He doesn't say anything, letting her ground herself, but then she suddenly pulls away and hugs herself, "Sorry..."

"Fr' what?"

"Whenever I started clinging to my old boyfriend he'd get annoyed."

"That sounds like a him problem," He grimaces, "You wanna hold on? Go right ahead."

He motions his arm toward her and she hesitates.

"You sure?"

"Wouldn't'a said it if I wasn't," He tugs her close again, "Now stop actin' like 'm gon' yell at'ya for bein' anxious."

She goes back to holding his arm and they start going again.

"We're together, right?" She looks up at him and he nods, looking straight ahead.

"Mh-hm."

"No, Daryl, I mean together to-"

"Knew what you meant," He assures her.

She smiles to herself, cheek squishing against his shoulder.

Diana had asked in her interview and she had given her a pretty lame "I think so," as a reply, since they'd never really discussed it before.

"Good."

He hums in agreement and leans over to rub his chin against the top of her head affectionately.

"There you are."

"What'cha doin' here?" Daryl asks, looking up from the bike he's trying to put together.

"Looking for you," Loveday pushes herself up to sit on the workbench behind him.

"Well, here I am," His eyebrows furrow as he adjusts something.

"Here you are..." She chuckles, "You've spent the last three days locked in this garage, think 'm goin' through withdrawal."

"Uh-huh..."

"Daryl?"

"Yeah?" He asks, attention still trained on the bike.

"Daryl," She tries again, a bit more firmly and he glances over at her.

"What?"

"Don't gotta sound so annoyed," She huffs, dropping back to her feet. She drapes herself across his shoulders, arms wrapping around his neck.

"Loveday," He mutters.

"Was just gonna ask ya 't kiss me."

His fingers freeze and he looks over at her, "You wan' me t' kiss you?"

"Could ask someone else, if you want," She teases and he chuckles breathily.

"Nah, c'mere," He cups her cheek and pulls her against his lips. It's one of the few proper kisses they've had, where both of them take part.

"Kiss me again," She gasps as soon as they break. He smiles and does as she says.

It doesn't take long before he stands, lips still moving against hers, her hands moving to hold his face as he backs her against the workbench. His bike is long forgotten when he lifts her onto the surface and slots himself between her legs.

One hand slides back to grip the back of his neck, the other tangling in his hair, and he tugs at her bottom lip with his teeth.

"Daryl!" She breathes.

"Yeah..." He kisses down her jaw and neck, pushing the shoulders of her cardigan down her arms. She gasps when he tugs her hips to meet his as he sucks at the junction of her neck and shoulder.

"D-Daryl," She tugs his head back by the hair and he looks up at her for just a second before finding her lips again, nicotine tongue delving into her mouth.

"Mm- Don't wanna fuck you in the neighbor's garage," She whines into the kiss and he pulls away, suddenly remembering where they are.

He hums in agreement and she squeals when he hefts her over his shoulder.

He throws open the garage door and carries her down the middle of the street toward their shared house, in full view of everyone out enjoying the day.

"The hell are you doing?" Carol snaps when he slams the door open.

He drops Loveday on her feet and she's immediately kissing him again, hands trying to push off his vest and unbutton his shirt at the same time.

"Gon' be upstairs fr' a bit," He calls back, peeling his vest off and tossing it on the railing before kicking off his boots, "Best not in'errupt."

"Won't be a problem," They hear her mutter when he picks her up again, not satisfied with the speed they're going up the stairs.

She loses her cardigan in the upstairs hall, and one of her converse just outside the door of their bedroom.

She lands heavily on the plush mattress, his hands quickly finding her face as he leans in again.

"So fuckin' pretty," He mumbles against her lips.

She finally manages to pry open his shirt and her hands wander his chest as he climbs onto the bed, pulling her beneath him.

He pulls back when she pushes him, and he watches her pull off her shirt and make quick work of her bra.

He cups her tits as soon as he sees them and she whimpers at their roughness.

"Fuck," He growls, dipping his head down to kiss her again, gently massaging them, "Yer so fuckin' soft."

One of his calloused hands drags down her body to hold her hip, pressing her down into the comforter.

He freezes against her lips when her hands slide back across his shoulders.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothin' I jus... It's nothin'."

"Daryl," She bumps her nose to his, "I've seen them. You don't have to hide from me."

He falters when her fingers graze one of his scars and she pulls away, wrapping her arms around his neck instead, "Sorry..."

"t's alright," He whispers, "Can hol' me howe'er you want."

"I love you, Daryl Dixon," She grins, leaning up to kiss him again, "So fucking much."

He can't believe she was asking him if they were together three days ago, all timid and unsure.

"Yeah, me too."

That seems to be enough for her and he's glad cause he can't just out and say it. He can't. But she knows. It's in the way he looks at her, the way he touches her. She can feel it all the way in her toes when he kisses her.

She wiggles her hips as she pushes down her pants and he starts working on his belt, tossing their jeans aside with his shirt.

His hands run down her body and back up before settling on her hips again, "Been wantin' to do this fr' a while."

"Just wanted to get in my pants?" She teases but he cuts her off with a mind-numbing kiss.

"Somethin' like that," He says against her lips, "Gon' have a hell of a time gettin' me outa 'em."

"So roma- hah! Romantic!" Her breath hitches when his fingers gently rub her through her underwear.

"Looks like you forgot somethin'."

"You're one t'talk," She hooks her finger of the waistband of his boxers and snaps the elastic against his hip, "Thought I'd leave ya somethin' to take off me- Hey!"

She looks at him with wide eyes when he tear the thin material apart.

"Daryl! You can't do that!" She scolds, laughing as he yanks them out from under her, "Where'm I gonna get new panties?"

"Don' need'em."

"I'm gonna!" She argues.

"I'll find you more, alright?" He pulls her into another kiss, "Firs' 'm gon' make you feel good."

They take their time, touching, groping, kissing. Getting a feel for the other's body, what makes her back arch, what makes him shudder.

By the time he starts pushing into her she's whimpering, one arm hooked under his arm, while she fists her hair with the other. He gasps at the feel of her, head falling in the crook of her neck.

"Loveday," He groans, his hips moving slowly.

He's not loud, but he's anything but quiet with every shift of their bodies pulling noises from deep in his chest.

One of his hands glides down her arm to slide his fingers between hers, moving their hands above her head.

Every second drags out into eternity as minutes tick by and sweat starts to shine on their skin.

"Hah- fuck!" He whines in her ear. He presses his forehead to hers, eyes shut tight as he huffs each breath, trying to stave off the feeling, "Shit."

His orgasm sneaks up quicker than he expects and hits him hard with a gravily moan of her name.

She runs her fingers through his hair while he catches his breath and comes back to reality.

"Shit," He mouths at her throat, chest still heaving, "Sorry, didn' mean t'..."

"Shh..." She shushes him with a kiss to his temple, "It's okay."

"No it ain't," He argues, "Le'me-"

"Daryl," She hooks her fingers under his chin and tilts her head up to look at her. She looks down at him warmly and kisses him softly, "It's okay."

"Is that a crock pot?" Carol asks when Loveday sets it on the counter.

"Yep!"

"What for? We already have one."

"I'm making dinner tonight. Gonna make a lot, to freeze."

"Loveday, it's two-thirty."

"Takes a while," She waves her out, "Now go find something else to do for a while."

"Someone order a deer?" Daryl calls, coming inside. She smiles back at him from where she's cutting potatoes, her hair tied back, "Where d'ya wan' it?"

She motions to the counter next to him, "Right there, if you wanna start cuttin' it up for me?"

"I ain't-"

"You're gonna leave me all alone in here?" She pouts. He stares at her for a moment before she breaks out in a grin, "Knife's on the counter. Wash your hands!"

"Yeah yeah."

They let her take a surplus of vegetables from storage because they were all about to turn, and this was the best use they could think of for them.

He moves to sit on the counter next to her as she puts half the meat seared into one of the slow cookers after searing it. There's music playing quietly across the kitchen.

"You done this before?" He asks, watching her make the gravy in the pan.

"Mhm," She whisks in a shot of steak sauce, "My mom taught me. It's pretty simple. Hand me that?"

He gives her the bottle and she pours a few heavy shakes of Worcestershire into the mix, "That's the secret ingredient. Wouldn't taste right without it."

"Smells good."

"It better," She chuckles, "Can make it with just about anything, too. Deer, beef, bear, you name it."

"Bear?"

"It's not my favorite, but it ain't bad either... What?"

"Nothin'," He shrugs, playing with his fingers.

"No, that was a look," She says, "What?"

"You jus'... Yer real pretty when you talk."

"Shut up," She rolls her eyes and tries to hide her blush by turning to get the rest of the meat.

"Nah, your face lights up and you get that smile. Yeah, that one," He points at her lips when she turns back to the stove, "Tha' smile always makes me wanna kiss ya."

"You gimme ten minutes and you can do all the kissin' you want," She grins over at him.

"Them slow cookers better be damn slow cause I got more than that on my mind," He hops off the counter and his hands find her hips. She laughs when he buries his nose in her neck and nudges him affectionately. She says her hips to the music and he follows her, eyes closing as she hums along.

"Oh..." They both turn to see Carl freeze in the doorway, plate from his lunch in his hand. He bites back a smirk as he sets it in the sink, calling over his shoulder as he leaves, "Sorry for interrupting, don't burn down the house!"

Thankfully, Daryl has enough sense to let her finish cooking before dragging her up to their bed.

He pries open the buttons of her plaid shirt, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses down her chest and stomach to the band of her jeans then back up to her neck.

"So you like when I talk?" She teases and he hums against her throat, "Hah- should info dump more often then."

"Come'ere," She tugs him up to her lips, smiling when he melts into her.

He lavishes every inch of skin he can get to with kisses, bites, and desperate touches until her hips lift from the bed, aching for friction between her legs and he obliges.

He brings her over the edge twice with his mouth and fingers alone, dragging the experience out as long as he can before lining himself up with her.

She's enraptured by the feel of him, needing more, needing him. He feels her wrap her legs around him, grabbing at his neck, his back, his shoulders, whatever she can reach to keep him close, sighing his name.

"Tha's it," He groans, "'m right here. Ah- fuck... 'M right here."

He can't say it. Not yet. But he does. After all these months fighting for their lives together and being there for each other through everything, he loves her. He loves her like he's never loved anything before. He just... can't say it yet.

[marshmallowprotection]

My mystic messenger phases come and go ever since I was young, like 15 years old young. But I always loved saeran with all my heart.

Recently I got a disgnosis, an incurable disease I'll live with forever now, which crushes me. I was healthy one day, and doing poorly the next.

In these kinds of times, I visit your page. As I've done for years whenever a bad thing happens. I love reading the things you come up with and your beautiful headcanons and fics.

In my mind, it always feels like saeran is there with me, coming to the hospital with me, telling me to take my meds, hahaha.

I just wanted to let you know the impact your writing has on others. You are always the first blog i will come to when I need to read something to cheer me up ☺️ have a wonderful day, please. You are incredible.

Hey, Anon! I appreciate the love and care you've given me, and I just want you to know you're not alone. Chronic Illness can happen at any time, and while you may be grieving right now, I want you to know it will be okay. Grief is a cycle, and you will feel all five stages again and again, but please, don't lose hope in finding the peaceful stage again when you hit the vulnerable lows. You're allowed to fully grieve, to be angry, to be tired, and to be frustrated. But, you're also allowed to be happy, accepting, and at peace.

All those feelings can exist, either separately or at the same time, it's hard to explain but you'll know it when you feel it. I have many health conditions myself, and they've changed the way I have to live day by day. There are times when I'm upset and times when I feel at peace... and both of those feelings? Valid. There's no right or wrong way to let yourself experience these feelings. I hope nobody tells you otherwise.

It's taken me a long time to get to a place where I can recognize that, but I hope you'll take that to heart.

Now, for the uplifting part with Saeran! Saeran knows what it feels like to be sick. He spent his entire childhood always on the edge of life and death, and Saeyoung fought hard to make sure he had food to eat and occasionally, medication to stave off a cold before it had a chance to turn into pneumonia. It was exhausting, but he didn't know there was any other way to live because life dealt him a hard hand.

But, now that he's older, things may not be perfect, because his health is still worse for wear, but he's learning how to help himself. He's learning there's assistive devices to help him! There's all kinds of medication that can help his nausea, exhaustion, and allergies! There is a sense of hope he never had before, and while he knows that's not a perfect fix—it makes life feel tolerable, and sometimes, it does the most to make it feel enjoyable.

A little bit of medication, reasonable doctors, accessibility aids, and friends who care to listen when you need to be heard always makes a world of difference, doesn't it? Saeran will be there with you every step of the way and don't you dare doubt it. He's there, holding your hand, reminding you that you're strong, but it's okay to cry, too. You don't have to be the model sick person, you're allowed to be yourself and experience your emotions as they come.

"It's okay, my Love. Whenever you feel the sunlight kiss your cheeks as you walk into the hospital, that's me... reminding you to look up at the clouds before you do anything else. I want you to tell me what you see... no matter what it is. I'd like to think whatever you see is a sign of the day to come. Hahaha, do you want to know what I saw this morning? A cloud shaped like a heart, of course!"

[safety-pin-punk]

HEY KEY GUESS WHAT!!!

im finally level 3 (out of 4) in derby!!! i can play contact now (elbows are scary...i have bruises). and a couple of the coaches think I could possibly move up to level 4 before the end of the year.

also whenever i wear my patch jacket to derby training or games, my mother shows it off to other parents lol. shes totally out here having a proud parent moment about the gorgeous sewing project I started (the iron on patches are so hard to sew through but I refuse to iron them on).

(only downside to that is that I cant really put any political adjacent patches on my jacket because she'd probably murder me if she read anything she didn't like lol)

anyway hows it going?

-ghostie👻

GHOST!!!

That is so cool!!!! You are the only person I know who does derby and it is so fun to hear you talk about it! What are the different levels? What do they mean??

I feel that with the iron ons though, I refuse to do anything other than sew my patches on. (Consequently I dont add patches often because I hate sewing lol)

Life has been absolutely wack here. Not necessarily in a bad way but in a so much is happening way. I got tickets to see Foreigner and Slipknot later this year, I signed up to get a penpal, I'm looking into loans to buy a house, I have to help my sister move some furniture, and also I probably have pneumonia, but its *fine* I'm on a shit ton of meds for it and I'm almost done with them so I'm actually doing pretty okay now lmao

[only-mostlydead]

Hello. Today is my 30th birthday, and I am in bed recovering from surgery. To entertain myself, I wrote up a list of 30 things I'm glad I learned before I turned 30, and now I'm sharing it with you. Take what resonates, leave what doesn't.

30 Things I'm Glad I Learned Before I Turned 30

You can decline to be weighed at the doctor's office. Seriously. Unless they're dosing meds or need to report it to your insurance for something, you can say no thanks. And if they have to weigh you, you can request that they don't tell you the number.

Fed is better than not fed. There are days when my stomach won't tolerate anything except cheese puffs, so I eat the damn cheese puffs, without judgment. Feed yourself the best you can, and know that this will look different every day

Eventually, people will always tell you who they really are. Believe them the first time (this one comes from my mom).

Not living up to family expectations is very often a good thing. Your life needs to make you happy. You are your own person with no obligation to be what they want you to be.

Having a creative hobby that you're not "good" at is important. For me, it's watercolors. I do them because they bring me joy, not because I'm trying to be good at them. That's not to say that I don't love what I paint - I do. But there's no pressure for it to be anything other than fun.

Your job doesn't have to be fulfilling - it can just be a fundraiser for the things in your life that do bring you fulfillment.

Mental health is every bit as important as physical health. Don't neglect either.

When you have nothing to be sorry for, say thank you instead. Thank you for listening instead of sorry I bothered you, thank you for helping me instead of sorry I needed help. I'm not always good at this one.

Throw away the clothing with holes. You deserve clothing that doesn't have holes.

Your clothes are meant to fit you, not the other way around. Your body is the thing that carries you through your life. Clothes that don't fit are just scraps of fabric who aren't meeting their performance goals.

Everything is figure out-able. This one also comes from my mom.

Laziness doesn't really exist; it's almost always a response to something else (burnout, low self-esteem, etc).

Being your most authentic self is scary. It's also 100% worth it. Life has gotten better every time I've been even a tiny bit more myself.

There is no timetable for when you should hit certain milestones. You are not behind. You are on your own time.

Femininity means whatever I want it to mean, not what society tells me it means. Everything I do is feminine because I say it is, and no one can tell me otherwise.

Your job doesn't care about you. If you disappeared from the face of the earth, they would replace you immediately. You should bring them the same energy. You're the only one who will look out for you.

Use your PTO. Every damn second of it. When I started my current job, I was told that no one used all of their time off. I do. Every year.

Dieting literally does not work. Scientifically. Reading up on the Minnesota Starvation Experiment, Famine Response, and why BMI is literally sexist, racist bullshit changed my life.

Doctors might be experts in their respective fields, but they are not experts in what it's like to live in your body. Whenever possible, find one who makes you an active participant in your care plan.

Wear whatever the hell you want. Life is too short to worry what other people will think.

Live theatre, good meals, and beautiful tattoos are always worth the money.

Anger isn't inherently bad. Most of the time, it's your signal that something is wrong. This is the most impactful thing my therapist ever taught me as an ex-vangelical who grew up hearing that anger was a sin.

Don't put down the things that bring others joy. If they're not hurting you, themself, or anyone else, why waste your energy?

You cannot miss out on the things that are meant for you. If you miss it, it wasn't meant for you, and you should probably be grateful you missed it.

If I'm too much, go find less.

You are always responsible for your actions. Diagnoses, negative life experiences, and the like might explain bad behavior, but it doesn't excuse it. You are responsible for you.

Your feelings are always valid, but they are not always correct.

Go outside. Every day if you can. Even if it's for 30 seconds. Go get some fresh air on your face and look at a tree. If you can't make it outside, open a window, even just for a minute. Your brain will thank you.

You can leave. Hate the fitness class? Leave. Party too loud? Leave. Doctor not listening? L e a v e. As the famous tumblr post goes, if it sucks, hit da bricks!

You need nothing days. Days where you intentionally do absolutely nothing and feel zero guilt for that. Sit in bed, binge a Netflix show, eat some snacks, and don't think about all the things you're not doing. Let yourself rest, dammit.

[offmychest-official]

i am incomprehensibly angry today. my mother and her fucking republican boyfriend are out getting a dog and i cannot TELL you in writing how stupid of a decision this is.

we have a cat. i love him very much but he has some medical issues. he has a tendency to itch at his face, presumably due to the buildup on his chin and poor cleanup of his food dishes.

we are poor. we had to hold off his vet visits for about an entire year and a half because my mother didn't have the money. it was REALLY bad; he used to have a bunch of gashes near his eyes damn well constsntly because of how terrible and itchy he was all the time. we got him to the vet in early september and his meds have helped him. a lot!! hes okay now & all healed up.

but the vet visit was very very expensive and my mom could only afford it with some kind of vet card? idk but my point is vet visits are very expensive and we can't afford to take our cat there regularly.

and suddenly in comes my fucking mother off to get a puppy because idk her boyfriend wanted it So so bad because yeah? geniunely ridiculous.

she forgets to wash the cat's chin repeatedly, which is for his itchiness. the reason WHY he was sick was because my mother apparently never cleaned his food dish in the four years of taking care of him once. 2 of our previous cats were too obese to clean themselves properly, and our elderly cat had so much buildup on her bottom that when i think about it it makes me want to fucking throttle my mother. she adopted four cats on complete impulse, which led to us inevitably giving them away when no landlord wanted to deal with the wear and tear of having 4 cats. neither my mother or her shithead want to play with buddy for the required time and i can't do much about it because i'm at school all day and when i get home im exhausted and hungry. our cat is also fairly anxious and he DOES NOT like new things; he growls at the mailman and runs away whenever i come home from school.

and now, with all of these problems she wants to get a fucking PUPPY with our anxious adult cat? EXCUSE ME? EXCUSE ME???? Do you not see a flaw here. Is there not something wrong here. Hello. Can anyone hear me

she had the balls to act surprised when i had an immediate negative reaction to her announcing the dog to me in the car. ok. i don't get a say in it bc im her daughter. not like i live here or anything. nahhhh that'd be so crasy

im not even against the idea completely as long as i have my own space where the dog isn't allowed to go! i like dogs theyre silly! but my mother is the type to buy from backyard breeders because its a cheap animal. i doubt she even knows about FIP or bird flu or ANYTHING like that. that dog is not going to be fucking trained or socialized properly i know it in my BONES. and im not even sure she knows how to introduce the cat to the dog. where the hell is my cat going to stay while they get used to each other? my room has poisonous plants in it and the office is almost completely empty, i wouldn't want him staying in there for a long period of time. my cat can't stay in my room especially since i'm gone in the mornings and my mother works while i'm at school, so there's nobody to supervise him. he eats plants and the plants will make him sick/kill him possibly

do we even have enough money for a dog bed? dog toys? for it to be sterilized? enough time for it to play safely? time for it to walk outside? proper training? i bet you the answer is no. lmfao

this entire situation is just so fucking STUPID and irresponsible. i will admit that i do have a hand in this, and i'll try to rectify it more especially with my cat's chin wipe thing. but i have to deal with this fucking shit until i move out in 3 years. what happens to our cat when im gone? is he going to turn into another Lola? completely inable to manage himself because my mother is too distracted with the dog? will she get MORE dogs like she did with our cats?

im going to kill everyone in this HOUSE!!!!!!! FUCK ALL OF YOU SERIOUSLY AND FUCK YOU EVEN MORE FOR NOT TALKING TO ME ABOUT IT IN ANY DEPTH

.

[eldritch-nightmare]

i think im the first ask on this blog 👁️👁️ I THINK correct me if im wrong

if it’s not a problem could you do a matchup for me?? i’m a cis girl, 5”8, pansexual. i have autism + Tourette’s + adhd, and I play ukulele - im actually in college for music performance 🌝 i have light brown hair cut in layers w a fringe, plus I wear glasses,, also I’m a lil chubby. i practice Hellenic paganism, and i specifically work with Selene, as well as practicing witchcraft in general. my special interest is crystals and geology so i have quite a big crystal collection lol, and my current hyperfixation is mitski . im quite extroverted, even though my personality type is INTP, and my love language is gift giving!!

oh and - if it’s ok, I’d like to be 🌙 anon :)

you're the first ask, yes! and of course you can be 🌙 anon! i haven't done one of these in a while so i'm sorry if it's a bit. meh. but!

your matchup is... eyeless jack! he's a bit quiet and maybe even comes off as standoffish but trust me, once you two get closer, he'll be as open as a book when it comes to his thoughts and emotions. honestly, seeing that you work with witchcraft in general, jack might be a little wary around you in the beginning due to the whole 'sacrificed by a cult' thing he'll quickly realize that you aren't in any way similar to the people who sacrificed him. honestly, he'll probably be a little interested in witchcraft himself, though he most likely won't practice it like you do. he'll watch you take care of your altar to selene if you have one, and he's definitely the type to ask little questions here and there about your practices and beliefs if you're willing to answer them.

you're in college? so was he! at one point. he can't fully remember. but no matter, he has your schedule fully memorized so in case you ever forget something, he's basically a calendar there to remind you. he'll be willing to help out with any of your classes if you ever need the help. he will happily watch you practice the ukulele and whatever other instruments you may be required to play. between me and you, jack really just enjoys seeing you perform like... anything. he likes seeing you in your natural habitat.

rocks. he gives you rocks. he finds out that you like crystals and he sees your collection of crystals and he actively goes out of his way to study rocks that may potentially have crystals in them. he's not exactly the best at identifying crystals just yet but he's learning.

he thinks you're like... the most stunning person to ever exist, and while he's not the best with words, he'll show it through his actions.

considering his whole... nature of existence and whatnot, he can't exactly take you out on any romantic dates, but he'll find a way to make it work for the two of you. by some unknown reason, jack is really good at cooking, so he'll definitely make it a habit to make you a small snack or dinner whenever he's around.

he likes taking care of you, and it shows. if you catch a cold then he's right there by your side with medicine and warm soup. if you're feeling stressed because of assignments then he'll either help you out or he'll coax you into taking a break and he may or may not give you a massage if you're comfortable with that. if you want to sit him down and tell him about your newest hyperfixation then by all means, sit him down because he will listen and take in every detail you provide. if you're experiencing a sensory overload, then he's right there with whatever you need to help ground you. he's not a doctor but he was in med school before all of this happened so if he sees you injured with any type of cut, especially if it's bleeding, then he's already treating the wound. he's not the type to scold you for getting hurt, it's inevitable, but that doesn't mean he likes seeing you injured.

in short, he's in love with you and so long as you're fine with the whole cannibalism thing (because he simply cannot hide it, it's impossible) then you two would be good together!

[amihuman]

She'd always come in my room, 10 AM, "hi," she'd say.

"Get the fuck out of my room," I'd say.

She was looking to steal. Anything and everything she could get her hands on. She'd go through your clothes when you were in the shower, just to see if you left your wallet in your pants. In two years I lost a phone, two hoodies, an alarm clock, a power strip, a TV antenna, about 30 dollars in change, 10 DVDs, the list goes on and on. Thieves were everywhere.

If you were of the unlucky ones who had to send out their laundry to the laundry room, many times a week later you would see people wearing your clothes.

They gave us $30 per month, it was our share of the $1000 that we were given in social security. $30. Yes, $30.

At first, the cigarettes were free, if you took your meds in the morning, you would receive two tickets, and they could be used for two cigarettes. Don't get me started on cigarettes. Well fuck it. You were not allowed to hold your own cigarettes, and/or but especially a lighter. The cigarettes were labeled with your name and put into a cart which they would wheel out whenever the fuck they felt like it, or so it seemed. And, most important of all, you could only have one cigarette every 15 minutes. That rule hurt me most because I am a chain smoker, tried and true.

I would sneak in smokes in the crotch of my pants, along with a lighter, and I would always sneak cigarettes in the bathroom. The cleaning lady hated me. "You no smoke in bathroom!" She'd yell at me, I loved that she hated me so much, I figured the stress would help her die earlier.

People would shit in the stairwells. You'd be walking down the stairs and all of the sudden, well you get the idea. Sometimes they wouldn't clean it up for days, it looked and smelled awful.

The food was horrendous. My least favorite day was liver and onions, it tasted like dirty socks. My favorite day was chili dogs. How can you fuck up a chili dog.

I didn't have any friends in there, and I didn't want any. I just kept to myself.

When I first got there, I shared a room with three other people. We had curtains that we could pull closed, but no matter how you situated them, people could always see in. Masterbation was a nightmare, I was never alone. I think I jerked off maybe four times in two years.

One time, I said to myself: "I like to pretend this is my room when everyone's gone." As soon as I said it one of my roommates coughed. "Fuck, I'm never alone." Imagine being in a place where you are never alone, I mean, never.

They called it a nursing home, but it was an asylum. I'd kill myself before I went there again, sincerely. I mean it.

Come to think of it, I can't remember one happy moment in those two years at that place. Inside those walls, behind the barbed wire, it was bleak at least, hell at most.

[cripticmotherfucker]

Things nobody tells you when you get diagnosed with adrenal insufficiency so I'm gonna tell you:

Invest in a blood pressure monitor and a blood sugar checker. This has made it way easier for me to discern if I need to take more medication or not, or if I'm starting to go into an adrenal crisis. If my blood pressure and blood sugar are low, I know i need more Hydrocortisone. A thermometer is also a good thing to keep around.

Speaking of which, your blood sugar may be low in the morning until you take your meds. It's absolutely okay to start ur day with something sugary.

The time between waking up and taking ur meds is going to really suck. Cortisol used to wake you up, it won't anymore. Your meds will.

You absolutely should be put on omeprazole (other some other ppi) once you're put on Hydrocortisone. Otherwise the pills cause ur stomach to produce too much acid and it causes problems (I know... for reasons).

Avoid stress as much as possible. Avoid too much heat, people who are sick, too much exertion. Get enough sleep. Stay hydrated. Eat enough. Anything that can stress ur body out will cause you to need more cortisol (or in this case, hydrocortisone) to deal with it.

Do not. ReUse towels multiple times before washing them. Thank me later when you're not constantly dealing with skin infections (acne, boils, etc). Don't use other people's towels.

On that note, don't sit on directly on public toilet seats. Use the toilet seat protectors some places have and if they don't, use toilet paper to sit. This includes at your work. I get boils whenever I sit on a toilet that is used by too many people without doing this because my immune system is weakened.

Don't share drinks with other people. Your body can't fight off infections as easily, especially not once on Hydrocortisone.

You have to be cautious about being in large crowds. Wear a mask! And carry around hand sanitizer.

You might be infertile.

Use a nail brush to clean the sides and underneath parts of ur nails where dirt builds up. Be careful when trimming your nails. Again. Easily get infections. This will reduce that. Fingernail infections are like, my most frequent infection I get now. I've found releif with PRID salve from Hyland naturals (I'm not usually a natural remedies person, given the whole chronic illn3ss thing, but there's scientific evidence behind multiple of the ingredients in this). I also use hydrogen peroxide beforehand once they start draining (gross i know)

You probably should disinfect any wound you get, normal people don't need to use hibiclense, but I do. If I don't use it, it gets infected. Bacitracin is ur best friend.

You may need to invest in some decent non alcoholic mouthwash. I'll add my favourites here later (one of them is by natural dentist i think? My other fav is one sold at walmart in a solid green bottle). If you struggle with dry mouth biotene is a good option, it also has xylitol so thats a plus. Make sure you're taking care of your oral health. I've had a few oral infections just from minor irritation or accidents like biting my lip, having a good mouthwash has helped me reduce that.

Probiotics are a good idea if you can afford them. Kombucha and kefir are good if you can tolerate them. They have helped me fight off some infections.

DO NOT. TAKE ASHWAGHANDA. (Its in a surprising amount of stress receiving supplements, drinks, gummies, etc.)

There are three kinds of adrenal insufficiency. It's important to know which you have. Also. If you have GI issues or a family history of celiac. Get checked for celiac. Get your thyroid hormones checked as well if you haven't already.

I've had sommee success with Elderberry supplements, echinacea and goldenseal supplements, zinc, high dose vit c, vit d, oregano oil and also ginger and tumeric helping me while I've been sick. There's studies with evidence of these having a positive effect when fighting infection. I only take them short term or when I'm exposed to someone who is super sick (example, exposed to covid by accident). But talk to your doctor before you take anything, especially if ur on other medications.

Keep covid tests around. If you get covid, talk to your doctor right away, you may be able to get something like paxlovid. Which helped me a lot. (Though I personally wish the amount of time they prescribe it for was longer). The process is a little complicated but don't be afraid to ask for it. There's other options available too so, be sure to look into those. I may. Get around to linking information on those eventually lol.

Life isn't over just because you're sick. This all used to be so overwhelming to me but now its ingrained. You've got this!

[slowparts]

sometimes i forget that this is actually a blog i can write about my life on. crazy right. anyways. this will probably be the first of many bc shits getting fucking insane in the membrane.

tw medical, cancer maybe, some vast unnameable fear saturday

gabriel has multiple masses in his neck and lymph nodes that we found out about on tuesday. one is nearly two inches long. he’s been complaining about neck pain for months. he had a regular checkup last week, his doc correctly noted his enlarged lymph nodes and ordered an ultrasound, he went for that on monday. on Thursday the (marked urgent) orders for the ct scan of his major lymphatic system + biopsy of his neck finally got sent to the hospital for scheduling. they haven’t called us yet though so i’ll be ringing them in the morning.

and like. yeah. i’ve felt his neck and i can feel it in there. this sounds dumb but he’s always had a big fucking neck. he’s just built like that, with a jawline that can retreat into his neck at a moments notice. he loves making people laugh with it. and yeah under his beard it’s obviously there. and i realize i’ve been staring at it for weeks, months maybe. noting something was off but not putting together what. even if i had, he’s a round soft boy. i’d never say a fucking thing about his chins getting bigger bc i know he feels self conscious about it sometimes. like i couldn’t have known. he’s been attributing his neck pain to his incredibly long working hours lifting things and working the restaurant. he’s been in pain for months and we still don’t know anything about it. i do not want to pre-worry about hypotheticals when we don’t even know what it is. and honestly, most of the time i fully believe it. i can usually talk myself (and often him, too) through a wave of fear about the not knowing, and the waiting. right before i am trying to sleep is the hardest. i dont want to take any meds to help at this point bc i need to be up in about 4 hours and be at work an hour or two after that, but the fear is eating me alive right now. so im writing this to hopefully exorcise some of it, maybe wear my brain out just enough to crash.

it might not even be anything as bad as all that. but it could be, and that’s going to be the rock in my shoe until we know literally anything besides how big the masses are. which coupled with the months of his being in neck pain—he is fucking averse to ibuprofen so whenever he complains about aching and i offer meds he declines 75% of the time, so i always just assume it’s because. he is lifting shit all day at work and when he’s not lifting things he’s at a computer doing other work things. he’s an achy boy and i rub his shoulders and kiss him lots and love him with everything in me. anyway i just assumed it wasn’t anything major. —so the size of the masses + the amount of time he’s been in pain = I’m Really Fucking Concerned. and i can’t fucking do anything about it right now so i should just go to sleep. but when i put my phone down and close my eyes and try to sleep, im more aware of him next to me. and i love him being there. but my brain is making extremely unsolicited leaps and bounds from “oh, my partner is next to me in bed, i love sleeping next to him” to “what if he wasn’t next to me in bed and what if he never would be again because he died from this thing” which is like. literally THE most unhelpful thought to be having while you’re trying to sleep. So i’m gonna ride it out until sleep comes for me like a brick, or until my shift ends tomorrow.

i am so fucking scared. i don’t think i have ever felt fear like this before. everyone in my family who died of cancer died before i was born. i have only ever seen this play out at arms length. if i dwell on that fear, if i try to say what it is i’m afraid of (because for me, naming it is the first step to working through it), its like something primordial in my brain takes over. tangle of eels, oil spill dark and swallowing. no language for it yet.

when he had appendicitis and was in incredible amounts of pain, he described his pain on the 1-10 scale as a 3, maybe a 4. Granted that was nearly 9 years ago and he’s more aware of the fact that he as a man is allowed to be in pain and express it and treat it. so tonight he described the pain in his neck as a 7 that went down to a 5 with the ibuprofen. when he said 7 i had to stop myself from putting him in the car and taking him to the hospital right then. but it was already down to a 5. and he’s sleeping, and has been for a while now, so well at least wait until the morning.

i know he’s scared too, and i truly do not want him to have to be thinking about my fucked up brain feelings in the insomnia hours on top of everything else right now. i will not be telling him about this bc i want to self soothe. its a great time for me to practice. tomorrow night with meds. bc tonight i genuinely don’t think im sleeping. the clock just keeps…. going. and i keep being here.

and the fuck of it all is i do not know. and we wont for days to come. and i just have to live with that and keep reminding myself that it might not be that bad, and that lymphoma has a really high survival rate if it is that, and at least we know about it now. and the hospital has the orders for the next steps and he or i will call tomorrow to see if we can get the ct scan + biopsy scheduled as soon as possible. and tomorrow night, instead of dreading bedtime and spiraling the second i put my phone down for the night, i will take one of my anxiety meds preemptively. if i took it now id be zonked by the time i have to be at work and i do better sleep-deprived and winging it utterly than i do sleep-deprived with benzodiazepines in my system. but tomorrow night i can plan better. and we will get through it.

i love him so much. i know i know i know he will be okay. i don’t need to worry about all that right now.

also somehow!!!! on top of ALL OF THIS!!!!!! my brain is somehow able to sustain a positively unhinged crush on a friend, who doesn’t use tumblr thank god. few truly safe spaces remain in this world for me to have a full on mental breakdown complete with insomnia and inexplicable horniness. sorry that’s more than you needed probably. no actually im not sorry it’s my blog. this is under a readmore. if you’re here you’re in it now.

i think i started writing this post like two hours ago. at least 90 minutes have elapsed. Anyways. i love you im kissing you on the forehead and thank you for reading this and being here with me in a way. i love you.

[cinquaintothequaint]

⚠️⚠️⚠️!!WARNING: DON'T TAKE PHYSICAL THERAPY!!⚠️⚠️⚠️

Or better yet, just not medicine..

I'm a first year that's taking BS in PT (Physical Therapy) and after one semester, why does it feel like I'm reaching the end? Am I dangling off a ledge? Because it sure as hell feels like it.

Now don't get me wrong, I chose this. I literally chant, "Pinili ko to, panindigan ko kase sayang naman!" (I chose this and I'll go through with it, it'll be a shame if I give up.) Whenever I'm about to tackle another side quest or stay up for another weekly

But what the hell is panindigan specifically? I translated it and numerous words came up:

That's.. a lot.. Filipino is a language that does a lot with context so stick with me here.

Within my first week, I've heard numerous students (friends and blockmates alike) just chant it like a mantra. It's a record that keeps on playing, constantly, on repeat, whatever, and forever until we die.

Okay, wait, it's too much to for me to say die but you get me?

It's like having to always run for the last stretch of a race or surviving the last 2 minutes of a viking ride, and just casually nodding, "Yeah I'll go for another." But wait. You're doing this forever? In the case of college, you're readying yourself to do this for life baby!

I'm someone that doesn't like making themself panic. In that first week, I was telling myself, "Pfft I'll be fine, just need to swerve here and there and I won't hit anything."

Oh if only the me on the 6th of September knew that it was so over.

My block and I shared the feeling of cold water being dumped on us when we got through our first Physiology lecture. And that won't be the only time!

Only the Lord (or the higher being you believe in) will know what will happen, and only them they did.

When I tell you that the median score for quizzes was a 5~10 out of 45, you can feel the despair from just reading it. This was a major! I had to step it up! My GOD I really did try!!

But learning medicine is learning a new language and chapter of my life altogether.

Yeah I'm bilingual, alam ko naman ung alpabeto ko. But in medicinal, you say, "I'm sorry, in the reference I read, the book said this." And frantically look for it because your pracs professor is wondering when the hell did spine of the scapula just become spine, and then you point to it, and they're just like, "Oh well you should've wrote the entire name." And the class bemoans their luck because the question asked, literal, what is this part of the scapula?

Real experience I had.

We didn't get the +1 point.

Being a med student in college makes your relatives smile in approval. You receive a responsibility the moment you start learning your anatomical terminology and how to differentiate up from superior. There's this pressure from expectations, the required GPA, your own self-esteem is WORKING against you, and my God we haven't talked about the minor subjects yet.

All of this starts accumulating, truly it does, and suddenly you can't go out anymore.

You're stuck there.

Studying.

What's it for? It's for the pre-lec, post-lec, and prelim next week.

So yeah, I got really really low scores in Physiology. I was feigning ignorance and hoping for the best and even got my rosary out to be holier than my parents' 6pm prayer.

I was on that ledge.

Again.. DON'T TAKE PHYSICAL THERAPY (or med in general)

If you don't like..

Wearing white uniforms

Reviewing when you're out and about

The heart-wrenching despair and anxiety every time you're reminded that you're a med student

Everything and everyone

Yourself, because why did you subject to the mental gymnastics?

Going through med subjects that start with the letter P

Debating whether or not to take med school (unless you're already in med school then you have my sympathy)

Feeling dumb all the time

The cost and time.

This list.

..

You're probably thinking I'm overreacting, and yes I'm aware. Too aware, and I'm too scared, too insecure, and too damn .. ugh..

...

Maybe when I say panindigan ko to, I just want a sign from God to strike me from behind and I can finally call it off.

I just want a clear answer that I wasn't cut out for this yk?

But, well shit, I kind of like.. what I'm doing.

My "don't like" list isn't permanent. My woes aren't permanent.

It could be, but I like to think it won't be.

Because at the end of the day, when I look at all that then to everything else that I want and wish to do, to achieve and to make something out of an incomplete me, then fuck, the physical therapy dream needs to forcefully kick me out before I can say bye-bye.

So yeah, if you don't mind or actually like something in the if you don't like list- you have a 10% chance of taking physical therapy or med in general.

This rant is over. Cut!

...

..

..

...

..

..

...

...

..

..

..

..

...

I forgot.

I passed by the way. I qualified for 2nd semester of my first year in BS-PT.

Uhm.. my last few thoughts, I think med students are masochists who are for the people and that's beautiful (I wanna be a part of that!). And also!

Panindigan ko kase.. gusto ko to ih!

(I'M SORRY THIS WAS WRITTEN SO LONG? HAVE A GREAT DAY AND YOU'RE DOING GREAT KEEP IT UP)

[bewitchingfanfiction]

MCYT (2022/2/19)

Sometimes Tubbo felt like a fish out of water.

Whenever his period rolled around, all he could do was flop helplessly in his bed while groaning in pain from shitty cramps that he doesn’t feel he should have in the first place.

Honestly, Tubbo wouldn’t wish cramps on anyone.

And what made it worse was the leech hovering outside of his bedroom constantly.

“Tubbo, I can’t help if I don’t know what’s wrong.” Ranboo called from the other side of the door.

“Good, I didn’t ask for your fucking help.” Tubbo grunted before ramming his face in a pillow.

He knew Ranboo meant well, but he just didn’t get it. He didn’t get how envious Tubbo felt whenever he looked at him, how Ranboo had what Tubbo would consider the perfect male body.

He was tall, had a proper amount of facial hair, a deep voice, and he didn’t have feminine curves.

God, what Tubbo would do to just thin up his thighs a little.

He heard Ranboo sigh softly before speaking again. “Tubbo, you’re obviously hurting…I really want to help you…just…if there’s anything I can do, let me know.”

‘Yeah, give me your body.’ Tubbo scoffed at his own thoughts.

A fresh wave of harsh cramps ran through and Tubbo cried out in pain as he held his lower stomach.

He knew he should take meds, but taking meds was like…accepting he had a period. It made it too real. As did wearing pads or goddamn tampons.

Admittedly lying in boxers and bedsheets covered with blood wasn’t exactly ideal, but Tubbo couldn’t bring himself to care.

If he moved from his spot in bed, it would all be too real for him.

~~~

“I don’t know what to do, he’s completely shut me out.” Ranboo explained, eyes filled with worry behind his glasses. He was on video call with Tommy.

Tommy frowned; eyebrows furrowed in thought. “Did something happen?”

“I-I don’t know!” Ranboo admitted. “He’s been a bit on edge for a few days, but I don’t remember anything specific happening.”

Something seemed to click in Tommy’s mind, and he sighed heavily. “Oh…Ranboo has Tubbo been eating strangely?”

Ranboo blinked, trying to think back to the previous days. “I mean, not really. I guess he’s a bit stingier. We were watching TV and he suddenly turned to me and said if I tried to take any of the popcorn, he’d tear out my nerves.”

Tommy snorted. “Yeah, he’s on his period.”

“Oh.” Ranboo’s eyes widened. “Oh…”

“Yeah, oh.” Tommy huffed. “Shit, I usually come over to help him but I’m supposed to join a big live stream event with Wilbur and the others in like 15 minutes.”

Ranboo twiddled his thumbs. “I-Is there anything I can do? I-I know I don’t really get it but…I wanna help.”

Tommy was about to speak, only for his phone to chime. He groaned. “Dammit, look I gotta go, Wilbur is having a pre-stream crisis. Alright um…ah, call Dream, he can walk you through what to do. Good luck, give Tubbo my best!”

“Wait-“ Tommy hung up.

Ranboo sighed heavily and grabbed his phone, dialing Dream’s number.

A few moments later, he answered. “Ranboo? What’s wrong?” He sounded tired.

“Oh shoot, time difference. Sorry.” Ranboo told him guiltily.

Dream chuckled. “It’s fine, I was up talking to George anyways. What’s going on?”

“So um, T-Tubbo’s on his period? And I wanna help and I don’t know what to do and Tommy’s unavailable and Tubbo won’t even talk to me and-“ He rambled.

“Easy, easy.” Dream cut him off. “I get it. Alright, I’ll help you. First, take a breath.”

Ranboo breathed in and out to calm down, and Dream continued. “First I want you to gather some stuff…”

~~~

Tubbo nearly threw something at the door when Ranboo knocked. “WOULD YOU LEAVE ME ALONE!?” He all but roared, wincing in pain as he struggled to get a full breath. How long had he been wearing his binder?

“Um…are you decent?”

Tubbo raised an eyebrow. “Uh, yeah?”

Ranboo opened his door and Tubbo jumped in alarm.

“What the fuck!? I didn’t say come in!” He hissed, rushing to cover the bloody sheets.

Ranboo looked at him apologetically, he was carrying a tray of stuff in his hands. “Sorry but…Dream insisted I just barge in. Um…here.” He held out the tray.

“…What?” Tubbo asked helplessly, looking at the tray with confusion.

Ranboo set the tray down in front of him, and Tubbo’s eyes widened.

The tray had a cup of green tea, some medication, a bar of chocolate, a pair of clean underwear, some pads, one of Ranboo’s shirts, and a hot water bottle.

“I um…I know you’re…on your period.” Ranboo admitted gently. Tubbo winced a little at the word. “I wanted to help so I called Tommy but he had to go to a live stream so he had me called Dream and um…this stuff should help.”

Tubbo scowled, crossing his arms and looking away from him. “I don’t want help. I just want to be left alone.”

“I can’t do that.” Ranboo told him softly. “Dream said you’re in pain and…and I don’t want you to be. Please let me help? I’ll owe you.”

Tubbo reluctantly looked his way, and then sighed heavily. “You owe me big.” He snatched the meds and tea and forced it down before he could think about it too much.

Though Tubbo couldn’t see his face, he could tell joy and relief were radiating off of Ranboo. “Thank you. Um…here, go change and put a pad on. I’ll change the bedding.”

“Oh god, no- I cannot let you do that, it’s fucking gross-“ Tubbo started.

Ranboo placed a hand on his arm to comfort him. “Yeah, maybe it is. But for me, that’s all it is. For you, it’s world ending. So let me help keep your world alive.”

Tubbo’s bottom lip wobbled, and he slowly leaned forward to hug Ranboo. “Thank you…” He choked out in a whisper.

Hugging him back tightly, Ranboo sighed a little in content. “Alright seriously go change, Dream said to make sure you take off the binder too.”

“I hate that guy.” Tubbo deadpanned and grabbed the clothes off the tray before leaving to go to the bathroom.

~~~

“Not that I’m complaining, but why did you give me one of your shirts?” Tubbo asked curiously as he came back into the bedroom, taking note of the fresh sheets.

Ranboo rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Dream said it might help to wear a shirt that’s too big for you, help with not wearing the binder and stuff…”

Tubbo pouted a little, a little annoyed at how much Dream knew. “Seriously fuck that guy.”

Chuckling a little, Ranboo pointed to the bed. “Lay down, there’s a hot water bottle calling your name.”

“Yessir.” Tubbo gave a salute and lied down, sighing in content as he set the water bottle on his lower stomach.

Ranboo smiled. “I thought we could keep watching the office.” He explained, setting up the laptop before sitting down in a chair he had set up next to Tubbo’s bed.

This made Tubbo smile slightly. “You’re staying?”

“Until you throw me out.” Ranboo joked. “Please don’t though.”

“Give me that chocolate, big man.” Tubbo demanded with a grin, poining to the chocolate bar.

Ranboo tossed it to him and turned on the show. Tubbo felt a swell of love in his chest.

He really did have the greatest friends.

[7-wonders]

Sick Day

Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x gn!Reader

Summary: You're sick, and the absolute last thing that you want is for an overprotective King of Dreams to find out. Of course, you should know by now that it's impossible to keep anything from Morpheus, and when it comes to you, there's nothing that he won't do to make sure that you're safe and well.

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: I've been sick the past couple days and wrote an entirely self-indulgent sick fic. Yes, I am a full-on simp for this anthropomorphic personification. Fight me. No use of pronouns or Y/n in this :)

You’re sick.

You had tried to deny it when you felt a tickle in your throat days ago, one that wouldn’t go away no matter how much water you drank. Allergies, you thought. There was no way you were getting sick, because you’re far too busy lately to actually get sick.

When you woke up yesterday with your head feeling like it was stuffed full of cotton, you still tried to brush it off as nothing more than a mere nuisance. And it was just a nuisance, until the day dragged on longer and you started to feel worse and worse until all that you wanted to do was just go home. You were freezing even though you were wearing a heavy coat, your limbs ached, and the exhaustion that clouded your senses made everything feel slow and jerky. You had left work early, which is something that you almost never do, and had fallen into bed upon returning home with the hopes of sleeping this bug off.

Unfortunately, the fever that you’re dealing with makes it impossible for you to actually rest. You hover on the precipice of sleep and waking, reality seeming to melt around you when you think that you’re finally asleep. There are times where you’re sure that you’ve slept for days, only to check the dimmed light of your phone and see that it’s been merely an hour. This sickness is really trying to make you miserable, then; you can’t even escape into dreams to see your own Dream, your Morpheus.

At some point, there’s a tapping on your window that brings you back to full awareness. You wish you could say that it wakes you up, but you can’t. You groan, blearily pushing your bedroom curtains open to see what it is disturbing you. After wincing from the sunlight and having to wait for your vision to clear, you make eye contact with a large, black raven sitting on the windowsill. You were wondering when Matthew would finally come looking for you, considering you haven’t left your bedroom since yesterday. Morpheus is nothing if not overly protective of you and your safety, which means frequent visits to the Waking by his raven.

Fumbling with the latches on your window, you finally unlock them and push the window open to allow Matthew to hop in. Early on in your relationship with Morpheus, you had taken the screens out of your windows to allow Matthew easy entrance whenever he was tasked with coming to check in on you. Once he’s in safely and you close the window behind him, you fall back against your pillows, the exertion too much for your weakened body.

“Hi, Matthew,” you mumble, looking over at him.

“You look rough, kiddo. I don’t need hands to know that you’ve got a fever.”

“Thanks,” you say bitterly.

“I was wondering why you hadn’t left your home for a day. Guess I got my answer.” He hops closer to you, and you have to turn your head so you don’t sneeze all over him. “One nice thing about being a raven now is that I don’t have to deal with getting sick.”

“Just keep rubbing it in, why don’t you.”

“Sorry,” Matthew apologizes. You wave him off, letting him know you’re not actually offended at his actions. “Do you need anything? There’s not a lot I can help you with, but I can do some things.”

“I’m okay, I’ve got the essentials.” Gesturing towards your nightstand, you name it off, “Water, meds, thermometer, crackers in case I finally get hungry.”

“Okay, if you’re sure.” Matthew doesn’t sound like he’s too assured by you, but if you say that you don’t need anything, he’s not going to try and force you to name something you need.

You lay in silence for a bit, your fingers lightly petting along Matthew’s silky feathers as you near that almost-sleep you’ve been in and out of for almost a day. When a thought actually forms in your foggy brain, you force your eyes open again. “Matthew?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t tell Morpheus I’m sick, okay?”

His body stiffens beneath your fingers. “Are…you sure?”

“He’s gonna freak out, because he doesn’t understand how mortal illnesses work. I’m gonna be fine, I just need to rest.”

If you weren’t sick, you’d probably remember that Morpheus has the ability to see through Matthew’s eyes, and thus it’s only a matter of time until he finds out. In fact, Matthew can literally feel the King of Dreams in the back of his mind right now. But since Matthew’s a good friend and he doesn’t want you to work yourself up when you’re already not feeling well, he just nods. “Okay, I won’t tell him.”

You smile and pat his head. “Thanks.”

“Hey, I gotta get going. Think you can open up the window for me before you doze off?”

You do as he asks, bidding him farewell before closing and locking the window. Pulling the covers up over your head, you burrow into the pillows and hope that you can finally get some rest…your lungs, of course, choose that moment to spasm and make you cough harshly. Groaning miserably, you mentally count the hours and sigh when you realize that you have to wait another four hours before you can take another dose of cold medicine.

It’s impossible for you to determine how much time has passed between when Matthew leaves and when a cold hand sneaks under your blankets to rest on your cheek. It feels so blissfully cool that you lean into it before remembering that you live alone and there shouldn’t be anybody touching your cheek. Tossing the blankets off of you, you try to ready yourself for a fight until you make eye contact with Morpheus, who looks like he’s teetering between chastising you and fussing over you. 

Logically, it makes sense that he would be the one here. But considering you’re sick, running on no good sleep, and have some heavy cold medicine in your system, logic has basically abandoned you.

“Hi,” you say guiltily, like a child with their hand caught in the cookie jar. “Matthew snitched?”

“No, Matthew did not…’snitch’.” You giggle at how odd the word sounds coming from Morpheus’s prim and proper vocabulary. “I wish he would have, though. You’re ill.”

“It’s just a flu bug.” You sneeze harshly. “I may look like I’m dying, and I may feel like I’m dying, but I promise I’m not dying.”

“It does not matter that you’re not dying. You’re unwell, and I wish you would have called upon me when you realized you were feeling poorly.”

“Why?”

Morpheus looks affronted. “So that I can take care of you, of course.”

“You have more important things to do than take care of a sick human.”

He removes his shoes, knowing how much you hate when he sits on your non-magical furniture while wearing shoes, and places his coat on the chair in your room before sitting next to you on the bed. You shuffle over to allow him room, feeling too tired to even bother to sit up. Instead, you look up at him as he begins to trace his fingers over the planes of your face. “You are not just a sick human. You are my sick human, and nothing is more important to me than you.”

If you weren’t already flushed from the fever, your skin would be blazing hot from the sweet words that just came from Morpheus. He can make the most mundane sentence sound like a line of poetry, and there’s something about the fact that this all-powerful king is shirking his responsibilities so he can sit in your normal, Waking bedroom with you that makes you feel extremely, undeservedly special.

“Will you let me take care of you, then?”

You nod, shoulders shaking as you try to hold back a cough. “There’s not much you can do for me, though. I really just have to wait it out.”

“Then I shall wait it out with you.”

You laugh again. “I love whenever you say modern verbiage. Sounds so funny.”

He hums, which is basically his version of a laugh, so you’ll count it as a win. Your eyes begin to close against your will as you quickly lose the small amount of energy you had gathered. When Morpheus pulls you into his arms and against his chest, you snuggle into his embrace before you remember that you’re sick and begin to push at him.

“Wait, no,” you say, “‘m gonna get you sick.”

Morpheus stares at you like you’ve lost your mind. Considering how hazy everything is, it’s not really that far off. “My beloved, I am Endless. I do not get sick.”

“...Oh.” You feel stupid for not realizing that. Obviously an immortal being who's been around for longer than you can even fathom doesn’t get struck down by the flu. Morpheus, for his part, doesn’t say anything. Instead, he just continues to hold you.

“You need not worry about anything beyond resting and recovering. I will handle everything else.”

Begrudgingly, you nod. The longer that you’re within Morpheus’s embrace, the more tired you seem to get. It wouldn’t surprise you if he were using some of his powers to actually get you to sleep; if it wasn’t Matthew that had alerted him that you were sick, it was probably the fact that you hadn’t properly been in the Dreaming for over a day now.

Before his power does fully send you to the Dreaming, you clutch just a bit tighter onto his shoulder to keep yourself tethered to the Waking. You look up at him through eyes that can only open halfway due to how heavy they are. “Love you, Morpheus.”

You think you see him smile as well before your eyes shut again and you allow yourself to be pulled to the Dreaming. “I love you as well, my starshine.”

In the safety of Morpheus’s arms, you finally have a restful, dreamless sleep; a sleep free of pain and sickness, a sleep that allows you to heal. Despite your concerns, Morpheus is more than content to simply sit with you and ensure that you remain safe, protected, and well. He would never lie to you, but especially not when he said that you are the most important thing to him.

[possibilistfanfiction]

For a prompt: Butch Bea being soft and tender when Ava needs some extra TLC for whatever reason!

'ughhhhhhh,' you say, as dramatic as possible, while you flop back onto bed. you do your best to flop on top of beatrice, your favorite place, you think with a smirk.

she puts her book down and runs a finger up and down your spine, featherlight, unbothered by your head on her chest and your hips against yours.

'do you feel any better?'

'no,' you groan.

'not even a little?'

'fine,' you say, 'maybe. maybe a little.'

she rests her hand in your hair, playing with the strands softly. you squirm around until you can see her face. she has on her glasses, sage green acetate, mostly round frames, that she'd gotten a few months ago when you had seen her squinting at everything in the distance and pestered her until she went to the optometrist. she came home grumpy and with some trial contacts that had been a fucking saga to get in her eyes the first few times, but she'd gotten the hang of it and wears them out most of the time, but she wears her glasses at home, especially when she's working on her computer. they're fucking adorable and you tell her that, over and over again, because you want her to know but also because the little blush beneath her freckles kills you every time.

'whenever you feel like releasing me, i'll go get you your cold meds.'

'i can't breathe,' you groan. it's not true, but your nose is stuffy and your throat hurts and you have a headache; you'd felt sick the day before but it had gotten worse overnight, and hadn't gotten all that much better with the hot, steamy shower bea had suggested. you tuck your snotty nose into her neck and she just brings her arms around you, unfazed. 'this is so stupid. what good is the halo if it can't heal me from a measly little cold that's ruining my life?'

'i'm sorry you're not feeling better, ava.'

to be fair, you have pretty significant chronic pain and issues with mobility, and it's been a journey — of your own, and with bea — to sort through your feelings around disability, and care, and being cared for. but a cold is easy; everyone gets colds, and beatrice is happy to help you. she's always happy to help you — quiet and competent and so cute, in a cutoff tank and boxers. eventually, you roll off of her and pout, still in a thick robe.

'do you want anything for breakfast? i can make your favorites, or something gentler, if you're not too hungry. i think the meds won't be great on an empty stomach.'

'maybe just some scrambled eggs.' you put your hand on her hip, the v that sits beneath the waistband of her boxers. 'and toast?'

'we have muffins, from the bakery, that i picked up yesterday, if you'd rather that? but i'll make whatever.'

'fuck yeah, muffins.'

she laughs and kisses your forehead, tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. 'okay. i can bring it up if you'd rather.'

'i'll come down.'

'are you sure? i don't mind.'

'i know,' you say, and you do: beatrice loves you all the time, in the smallest of moments, in the gentlest of ways. she listens, when you want to do things on your own, even on days where your pain is significant and your mobility is extremely limited. when you do ask for her help, she just nods and does whatever you need without any pity, without any anger. with love, with love, with love. 'hey.'

she tugs on some joggers and then runs a hand through her hair, messy from sleep, and your heart swells. she was worth it, you think — dying and saving the world and coming back from hell — she was so worth it. 'hmm?'

'i love you. i love you so much.'

her smile is tender, just for you, sunbathed. 'i love you too.' she takes a few soft steps toward you and kisses you gently.

'i'm gonna get you sick.'

'i don't get sick.'

you roll your eyes. 'well, i'll take care of you in a few days when you do.'

she laughs and kisses you again, then sits on the edge of the bed and pulls purple socks into her feet. when you had first come back to life, you had been blown away by the biggest things: the ocean, the stars. you still are, all the time, but now — the curve of her spine under her shirt, the pull of the strong muscles in her arms, the way she presses her thumbs into her arches before she pulls on each sock — you're blown away by how wonder is stored in the stitching; wonder is stored in the lifelines of her hands that you trace while you get coffee near your house, or the way she lets you clean up her neckline between haircuts, or the champagne you share some nights, just because you're alive, and together, and that's enough. joy is not meant to be a crumb, you remember — and your joy is stitched everywhere with her. your joy is infinite.

beatrice makes you breakfast and you eat it curled on the couch; she brings you cold medicine and it makes you feel high as fuck; you walk into a wall trying to bring your empty plate to the dishwasher. bea just laughs and leads you by the shoulders back to the couch; she brings you a mug of tea and you only manage a few sips before you start to fall asleep, your head in her lap.

a few days later she has the sniffles and the a fever in the middle of the night, and you make her soup and tea and hold her, even when she sneezes all over you.