#but not sure how else i could have explained my symptoms to get them to understand

[iliveinprocrasti-nationn]

one thing abt being disabled/chronically ill that some people don’t get is that sometimes body maintenance that ensures you have the absolute minimum amount of function can also be something that takes away a lot of control and autonomy. you can argue till the cows come home that making those decisions to try and help yourself (or realistically to try to make sure things aren’t worse than they already are) is something that exhibits control and autonomy and stuff, but they can be so limiting in practice because they’re things that take up so much time but have to be done to do anything else

[cappurrccino]

google, how do I not be so so so so so scared of taking new medications that I make my whole situation worse before I even pick them up from the pharmacy

[ellievickstar]

Bloodied Bonds

A/N: This was...fun. I wanted to fit it all into one part but it was getting too long sooooo yeah.....have fun :)

Summary: When hanahaki disease festers in your lungs, how will your family help you while you hide it from your mate?

Pairing: Azriel x Reader, Rhysand x Sister!Reader

Warnings: Elain slander, dying

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

There they were again.

Azriel smiled at Elain with those eyes…those eyes. And in your soul you felt the bond writhe with pain and clench in your chest. You remained still as you immediately brought your eyes to look at the ground beneath you. This hurt. This really hurt. A part of you wanted to deny it, wanted to believe that Azriel would remain faithful to you always, that he would stay true to the mating bond, something he desperately used to want before we got together.

Now, you were not so sure.

“Sweetheart…,” Cassian said from behind me, startling. He knew what you was seeing, saw it in his own brother’s eyes. Azriel may have always been a mystery to everyone else outside the inner circle, but his eyes — his beautiful hazel eyes — showed you everything you needed to know.

“I’m fine,” You waved Cassian off, bringing down shields on the bond, shutting out his emotions, the pain from it, and shutting yourself in as a stray tear slipped down your face, “I’m really fine,” You repeated.

Truth to be told, Cassian did not know what to say to you. After you had defended Azriel since you were kids, brought him to you and Rhysand’s mother, convinced her to take him in. Cassian did not know what could come over Azriel to internally betray you in this way. However as you began coughing Cassian was alarmed when you raced towards the kitchen sink and coughed out flower petals, one after another.

“What the hell-” He started, moving to pull back your hair as he observed what you had coughed out. Blood and petals coated the sink and as you choked them out one by one, slowly calming down, you waved your hand magicking it away. And it was then it hit him.

You were dying.

“Explain. Now.” He demanded. Looking away you mumbled.

“A few weeks ago after I first realised he loved her, I started coughing up flowers and my tears, my tears turned a gold colour. I asked Madja what was wrong. It’s a soul disease called hanahaki, caused by the betrayal of the heart and unrequited love. The tears were caused by the same thing, a unique symptom that is because of my magic due to being the High Lord’s sister. She said the flowers in my lungs will continue to grow until it suffocates me and I die. The star tears are just a symptom that causes physical pain, she doesn’t know if there will be any repercussions from it,” That’s all you managed to ramble out before you doubled over and heaved again, blood dripping out of your gaping mouth as you choked and coughed on the flower petals making their way up your throat.

Cassian was at a loss of words, on one hand he wanted to be angry, angry at you for keeping this from him, for not telling him sooner so he could beat the crap out of Azriel. On the other hand he was…devastated. You had always been like a sister to him, since he first met you as a kindred and fierce spirit when you were seven years old. The three of them had been twenty and Cassian had fell to his knees before the little girl with such a bright spirit, who dared to scream in Devlon’s face when he said females belonged in the kitchen.

Cassian had sworn to protect you.

And now, against a disease he felt helpless.

“Is there a cure?” He asked.

“Madja said there were two ways, either Azriel proves that he still loves me, which we both know won’t happen when he won’t stay away from Elain for more than a few hours, or I could have the flowers cut from their roots and removed, it’s a risky procedure and even successful all my feelings towards Azriel will be removed entirely, given the mating bond, she thinks it will be stripped from my soul. I….I wanted to wait.”

“So you either have your emotions robbed from you, make Azriel realise he’s an idiot, or die?”

You nod.

“Tell Azriel,” “I can’t!” You hissed, “We both know I can’t. He loves her, Cassian, I can feel it, I can see it, everytime he looks at her it’s like she’s the one who hung the stars and moon while when he looks at me that light dies!” You bang your fist on the table.

You point to where Azriel and Elain was far out in the gardens. His shadows no where to be seen, both blissfully unaware of what was going on inside with you and Cassian.

“He acts like she’s the one who went through countless of interrogation, of torture, when she got captured by enemies. He acts like she was the one who protected Velaris with Rhysand when she went under the mountain to be taken advantage of, when Amarantha held me down and tried to force answers out of me,” You let out another pained cry as you slid to the ground, “I have done everything for him, been through hell and back with him. And even after everything he still wants her, still wants to be with her, still doesn’t want me.”

Cassian brought you closer to him as he sat next to you and let you cry on his shoulder.

You cried and cried, and cried until there was nothing left. Cried until you couldn’t cry.

And when you finally fell asleep from exhaustion, Cassian glanced out the house to the gardens where his brother trailed Elain, and Cassian made a decision.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

“You told my brother!?” You shrieked. Rhysand and Cassian was now sitting around you in Rhys’s study.

“You told Cassian before me?” Rhysand shot back. You rolled your eyes as you scoffed, “Oh please I didn’t tell him anything I was throwing up flowers in front of him, not much I could do except explain.”

Shaking his head, Rhys sighed as he glanced at Cassian and they both shared a look. Narrowing your eyes, the tendrils in your mind crept towards your brother and the general, and surprise coated your face when you realised they had shut you out.

“Let me remind you what I do is my choice.”

“Not when your life is at stake,” Rhysand retorted.

So he had decided something against your will already. Of course, your brother who wanted to help everyone, your brother who thought you were his responsibility, his burden to bear. Your brother who claimed to value your opinion oh so much but then never, not once, ever considered how you feel in anything that had to do with you.

“He doesn’t care. I haven’t even been actively hiding it from him, it’s just that he’s never around to notice,” You said bitterly, “Did you know he missed my birthday? You all did. Because usually he’s the one going around reminding everyone the week before. Did you know our anniversary passed and I had waited for him all day just to realise he was with her?” Stray tears slipped down your cheeks as you tried to hold them back.

Crying meant that you were weak.

And you hated being weak.

That was when Cassian spoke, “Have Madja remove the flowers.”

Rhysand shot a look at him.

“She won’t survive otherwise. Even as we discuss this now she is running out of time, Rhys. Azriel’s infatuation with Elain is unforgivable and at least this way we can save her. Their relationship might never be the same but if Azriel is truly in love with Elain as she feels, then it is possible this way everyone wins.”

“I don’t want the male who almost killed my sister in my court,” Rhys bit out.

“Convincing Azriel that what he is doing is wrong will take too long. Maybe we should have interfered when it first started but now it’s too late. We can still save her, really save her. Not their relationship but at least she’ll live,” “And live with a bond that will eventually diminish into nothing?” “Maybe it’s better that way.”

Glancing between Cassian and your brother, your own inner turmoil seemed to be playing out in front of you as they discussed everything that you had not been able to come to terms with yourself. A part of you could still hardly believe that Azriel would do something like this, hurt you in this way when he himself swore that he would be loyal for eternity.

Mates.

A sacred connection that determined your equal, your partner in everything.

But your parents were mates too…and that did not work out well. So maybe it was time for you to let your mate go.

However, as you opened your mouth to agree with Cassian, to agree that maybe the best option would be to remove the flowers directly, the consequences of your feelings being stolen be damned, a cough climbed up your throat.

And as you coughed out bloody petals onto Rhysand’s office floor….everything went dark.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

It had all happened quickly, too quickly for Rhysand’s liking.

One moment he was debating with Cassian how they would save his sister’s life, the next moment as she was about to say something and he watched in horror as blood came out instead of words. Her eyes drooped and he raced to catch her from hitting her head on the hard wooden floors, and as his ears started ringing, holding his sister’s lifeless body in his arms, as he watched golden tears stream out of her eyes, he noticed there was someone screaming.

And it was not until his throat hurt, until his own throat burned, that he realised he was the one screaming, crying out loud for his sister who’s body seemed as lifeless as the one he had lost all those years ago.

“Get Madja!” He roared at Cassian, “Get her NOW!”

Less that a minute went by when Morrigan and Feyre came into the room, Feyre let out a horrified gasp as Mor took in the scene, freezing as she realised her cousin, her best friend, her only companion during the times after Eris and Keir, was in Rhysand’s arms, still and lifeless even as blood trickled out of her mouth and gold spilled form her closed eyelids.

Madja came shortly after, and Y/N’s body was moved to a different room for Madja to work, Cassian explaining what happened and the illness in Y/N’s body that was causing this. Morrigan took a few steps back, before she crashed into the wall of the hallway and let out her own sob.

And for the first time after Rhysand and Y/N had returned from the mountain, Morrigan wept.

Two days passed, and Y/N did not wake.

Madja estimated that they would have to make a decision within the week whether they would tell Azriel, or cut the flowers out.

And in those two days Azriel did not come.

It was only after Rhysand had asked him to meet, told him about Y/N did Azriel finally realised he had not seen his mate in days. That he had not even spent more than fifteen minutes with her in the past few months.

It was only after Rhysand said that Y/N was dying, did Azriel reach down the now cold and empty bond, and realise he had shut her out. And when he let his walls down, experienced the agony, the pain, the grief she felt even in her unconscious state, did Azriel regret.

“Why didn’t she tell me…” Azriel whispered.

“Because she heard you when I told you to stay away from Elain. I looked into her mind and I realised the day her disease started she went to find you, and you had been in my office, yelling at me that the cauldron had made a mistake, that you wanted Elain,” Rhysand laughed coldly. Even Rhys in all his beauty, his eyes were now red from sobbing, his voice hoarse from how he had cried, and cried.

“Good job, Azriel,” Cassian said from the doorway, “You got what you wanted. Your bond will no longer exist once she awakes…that’s if she survives even.”

“No….I don’t,” Azriel muttered, “Rhysand…what conversation?” Rhysand furrowed his eyebrows, “Are you really playing this game with me now? My sister is DYING! AND YOU WANT TO PRETEND LIKE YOU FORGOT WHAT YOU SAID!?”

Azriel’s eyes looked back and forth between his brother’s….when did he…when did he even get here?

Where was his mate?

Why did it feel like something just cleared from his head?

That was when Elain stepped in, holding a mug and what looked to be tea.

“Azriel, i heard your distress, drink this it will make you feel better,” She said softly, but as Rhysand’s eyes narrowed on the mug, it was Cassian who snatched it out of her hands, brought it to his eyes and shattered it on the already ruined hard wood floors.

“That was not just tea.”

“I have no idea what you mean.”

And as Cassian lifted his head he declared, “As General of the Night court, I arrest you for illegal possession and use of aphrodisiacs. You are charged with attempted murder of the Princess of the Night Court. You are charged with manipulation and forced betrayal of the court’s spymaster,” And with a menacing grin Cassian said, “And you are charged because you bloody annoy me and you…what you have done today makes me want to rip you to shreds.”

A beat passed.

“That is….” Cassian continued as he glanced at Azriel, with each blink clarity seemed to return to the shadowsinger as he processed everything, as he remembered everything Elain made him do, as he remembered how he had hurt his mate, “That is if Azriel decides he doesn’t want to kill you first.”

Elain let out a scoff, looking down at the spilled tea and broken pieces of ceramic in disgust, “Azriel loves me. Azriel should love me not that disgusting slut of a female, she might be a princess but she is-,” “Mine.” Azriel interrupted.

“She was mine before you interfered. She was mine before you made me break her.” Azriel turned, no doubt to go find Y/N.

“Start counting your days, Elain, because now they are numbered.”

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

Azriel taglist: @kemillyfreitas @going-through-shit @chessebookgirl

Part 2 here!!

Love, Ellie.

[mysunshinetemptress]

As long as you need

Leah Williamson x reader

Warnings: talks of periods, blood, endometriosis, just fluff, sorry it’s short. Got my period today and have been dying and so this was born

Periods where a natural occurrence for women globally, with each woman experiencing different things throughout their cycles, some suffered from hormone imbalances which caused them to gain acne or moody, some girls bloated during their cycle, some girls felt depressed, some got cramps and some girls had no symptoms but some girls also got all symptoms together or suffered really really bad cramps.

Leah suffered with cramps, not an uncommon symptom of periods but she suffered with them terribly even long before you both had met, she had opened up to you about them two months into your relationship talking to you about how one cycle she could be fine the next slight cramping but when she had a flare up boy did she crumble with pain and discomfort, you had thanked her for trusting you enough with this information before telling her you would be there for her no matter what and you had been there for whenever she needed. You had also been there in the doctors office holding her hand when they finally told her she had endometriosis, when the doctors had finally listened to her and told her that what she was going through wasn’t just her being dramatic like she so feared. You had sat reminding her how strong she was and how you would be there to support her through it all any flare up that came her way.

And today was a a bad flare up today was your four year anniversary and you had been excitingly planning a trip to a local castle to stay for a few nights basking in each other’s presence for a few nights before heading home to The Williamson’s weekly dinner. You had woken up in your excitement texting Leah happily wishing her a happy anniversary and that you would see her just before lunch when you planned to pick her up and drive to the castle. Getting ready for the day you waltzed around your apartment busting yourself with packing the last of the things you needed.

You checked your phone frowning when you noticed Leah had never texted you back earlier before deciding to call her to tell her you were on your way to get her. You began to worry as the phone kept ringing before panic began to seep in when it went to voicemail. You hung up the phone grabbing your things racing to the car to get to Leah’s unsure of what you where about to witness but the overwhelming feeling of wanting to make sure your girlfriend was ok pushed all the bad thoughts to the side.

You jumped out of the car before racing to her door and knocking not wanting to just barge in but after five minutes you pulled the key from your pocket and opened the door shouting into the house “Leah.” You didn’t hear anything as you placed the keys on the counter and began looking for her “Darling you here.” As you made your way down the hall you heard a hum coming from the en-suite in her bedroom “my lovely you ok.” You tried the door to find it locked “Le open the door.” You didn’t hear anything but the lock click bride opening the door to see Leah sitting on the bathroom floor spots of blood covered her pyjama bottoms and the floor before looking at your offaly pale girlfriend who was looking at you her eyes brimming with tears “hey pretty girl it’s ok.” Leah shook her head “I’m so sorry Y/n.” You shook your head as you looked around the bathroom “you have nothing to be sorry for my girl.” You crouched down grabbing her face “what do you need.” Leah looked at you as a tear raced down her cheek “you.” You smiled sadly at her “you have me, I’m here, I’m not going anywhere but do you need anything else.” Leah shook her head as you sat on the ground “I’m so sorry, I thought it was tomorrow and I didn’t think it was going to be bad but I just I woke up and it wouldn’t stop.” You pulled her into your chest “you don’t have to explain anything to me it’s ok, I don’t mind sitting here with you ok don’t be sorry you’re ok.” You continued to talk soothingly to the girl for hours often breaking when she had to puke from the pain but yet she still wouldn’t let you leave. An hour after the last wave you of sickness you could tell Leah was getting sleepy “let’s move you to the bed humm.” Leah didn’t put up a fight as you stood slowly pulling her up before placing her on the edge of the bath before leaving to get new PJs “you want to have a shower now or later.” Leah shook her head “shower later please.” You nodded kissing her head before asking for permission to lift her top “ok arms up.” You kissed her neck softly as you undressed her before pulling her into clean pjs and picking her up to head to the bed constantly reassuring her, Leah whined as you moved away “I’m just going to clean the bathroom and throw your pjs in the wash ok, I’ll be back.” Kissing her forehead again you began cleaning up before getting a hot water bottle and tablets for her and heading back into her room before climbing into the bed not caring about changing out of your leggings and jumper. Leah moved to lie on top of you resting her head in your neck kissing it softly “I love you.” You hummed playing with her hair “ I know, I love you too.” Leah snuggled closer “thank you for looking after me.” You sighed turning to kiss her forehead “I’ll happily look after you for the rest of forever.” You pulled her impossibly closer before closing your eyes smiling softly as Leah kissed you neck once more.

[furiousgoldfish]

When people hear stories about abuse, they often get fascinated and interested in the abuser, and the 'mystery' behind their behaviour. They'll want to analyze what happened to this person to make them act in such twisted and sadistic ways, and they want to find the past event or past abuse that would 'explain it all'. Abusers will also, very happily recount the past abuse whenever it's time to explain away their behaviour, so nobody could hold them accountable, because after all, they had had it rough! Of course they're now abusive, it's only natural.

Fascination with explaining away abuser's behaviour often leaves victim's situation forgotten and ignored. Victims are supposed to just 'get over it', not be so sensitive, and be careful to not turn into abusers themselves, because after all, being abused means you become an abuser, according to the abuser. Except it doesn't, and victims often don't end up abusing anyone else, especially not in the horrific ways they themselves have been abused. So we're having two opposing stories: one is told by the abuser, and it's easy, simple, explains everything away, and it says, abuse causes future abusers, I am the proof, I was abused and now I am like this. Victim's story goes: I was abused, and now I struggle to function, I have cptsd, I have flashbacks, nightmares, panic attacks, anxiety, eating disorder. I struggle with suicidal feelings and wishing I didn't exist. I feel like I'm not important at all in this world and like I have no community, no family, no home. Failure of everyone to help me while I was being abused caused me to feel like an outcast from society, someone who isn't a part of it, who doesn't matter. I would never do this to another person, I feel like a part of me was torn away into pieces and I struggle to put myself back together.

Now that story is complex, it implicates the society in failing to stop the abuse and making the victim's life worse, it showcases the actual consequences of abuse, which are not 'becoming evil', but feeling ultimately traumatized and damaged, struggling to find joy and happiness in life in the aftermath. Society doesn't want to hear that; it makes abuse into a problem that should collectively be dealt with, rather than pushing it all onto individuals who find themselves trapped in it and suffering. It's much easier to pretend that abuse just makes someone abusive, and for people who are abusive, we need to feel sorry for, because they were 'made to be like this', and for those abused, we just need to shame them and control them so they don't become abusive themselves.

There are abusers who have lived privileged lives, there are abusers who have been spoiled and rewarded for their acts of abuse. Most abusers don't show the symptoms of trauma nearly as bad as the victims of abuse do, they're most often just having the symptoms of 'I lash out my anger on those who cannot defend themselves' and 'everyone needs to feel sorry for me because I am having the roughest time on the planet'. Weird how the victims almost never develop these two symptoms! Victims will go and compare their situation to everyone who has it worse, and will struggle to express or direct anger at anything. 

So what is the actual source of abuse, if not past trauma? There's no study or statistics that can tell us that for sure, and abusers are careful to maintain their story and are not interested in being studied past what makes people feel bad for them. I would guess that it's a mix of entitlement, being in a position of power over someone vulnerable, never having to develop empathy or compassion, being rewarded continuously for acts of abuse, and social influence (admiring other abusers and wanting the power they have). A lot of social structures support and enable abuse of those who are at the very bottom of it, with very few protections against it. A lot of people believe it's their right to abuse someone if they have the power over that person, and gain power specifically for that cause. Abusers will have children and believe this is their property and they can do whatever they please with it, abuse being a part of it.

If we don't know where abuse comes from, how do we combat it? I don't believe in feeling sorry for the abusers or giving them endless attention, chances, excuses and rationalizations; instead I believe we should stand firm on the fact that abuse is inexcusable, and will have consequences, regardless of how it came into their behaviour. If abuse always had consequences, regardless of the history of the abuser, they would know they can't get away with it, that they can't later make everyone feel sorry for them and go on with their sob stories. Abuse would get them punished, not sympathized with.

I also believe the abuser's point of view should be decentralized; it should be victims who get to speak. It's easy for the abuser to show themselves in the positive light, minimizing the abuse, insisting the victim provoked or wanted it, that it wasn't that bad and it was done with 'best intentions'. But if we listened to victims, we would quickly understand that anyone who can do this to another person is monstrous, and should not be extended any sympathy. Abusers don't extend their sympathy to the victims when they abuse, so why should they expect to get it? Society should take abuse more seriously and put defenses into place, so abusers are not as easily able to put it behind closed doors. Resources for recognizing abuse, especially child abuse and intimate abuse, should be taught, spread and shared in society, so nobody would be able to convince another that suffering abuse is normal, or justified.

One of the biggest barriers to escaping abuse is victim confessing what's been happening to a trusted family member or a friend, and then this family member or a friend shaming and blaming them for it, instead of offering help and protection. It takes a lot of courage to even say something out loud, knowing the abuser would punish them for it, and then to be punished externally for speaking out, it's devastating. If abuse was taken seriously, and victims understood to be fault-free, but singled out, isolated and hurt in a way that nobody should be, and it was understood it's a societal responsibility to protect them against this, it would be easier to speak out, and get support. It often takes a society to help someone get free, because abusers are hell-bent on abusing once they start to, the victims need multiple barriers before abusers could get anywhere near them.

And why shouldn't we want that? If we know there are people in society such as children, young people, people without regular income, poor people, disabled people, compassionate people, marginalized people, people who struggle to recognize and flag down predators, shouldn't we want to make sure they're protected? That nothing bad happens to them, and they're free to live their lives safe from those who would do them continuous harm and make them want to die? We want our young, old, kind, vulnerable, sensitive, disabled, poor, compassionate and marginalized people safe and happy. There's no reason to throw them under the bus and leave them to suffer abuse.

[writingsonsaturn]

lucy taking care of sick reader!!!

lucy and r aren’t dating yet, but they aren’t just friends either. when r doesn’t come into work one day, and no one (besides grey) has heard from her, lucy goes straight to her house when she goes out on patrol. she stops in throughout the day after finding out that r is like beyond sick.

maybe a little scene where r lays her head in lucy’s lap and lucy run her hands through readers hairrrrrr oh my

lovesick - lucy chen

{ masterlist }

🪐: im still trying to find my writing style, so hopefully this is okay and fits what you wanted!! <3

word count: 982

content warning: sickness (flu like), just fluff

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

You woke up with a throbbing head and a clogged up nose. Originally, you thought you could power through it and suck it up long enough to finish a shift, but the moment you stood upright your world became disoriented. 

Doing your best to breath through the dizziness, you reached over for your phone to call into work. Grey practically pleaded with you to stay home when you mentioned you would come into work if you needed to, “you have more than enough sick days, use them and keep your ass out of my station.” You just sighed and agreed, saying your goodbyes when he wished you to get better soon.

Without much thought to it you passed back out on your warm comfy bed, hoping sleep would rid you of the constant pain your brain was forcing you to endure.

Lucy checked her watch when she got in, thinking maybe you were just late or had been caught in some early morning traffic. As the time ticked away she decided maybe it would be best to text you, and when she didn't get an answer her thoughts ran around her head like an athlete competing in a race that would determine if they go farther into their season. 

She opted to check in on you when she was out on patrol, getting into her squad car and making you her first check up of the day, praying to whatever could hear her that you were there and okay.

Pulling up to your apartment she felt a ping in her chest, she wasn’t sure why she was so worried about you. You guys weren't exactly a couple, but the others would argue that you two were basically already married, you both would laugh it off and call the team crazy, still continuing the narrative that you two were just ‘friends”. 

Lucy knew better than that though, she knew you were the first person she called when she was having a rough night and needed a warm bed to share with someone, you were the first she told about good news, you are the only person she truly, and deeply loved with every living and beating part of her body.

She grabbed the key you had given her for the nights she needed someone, after the Rosalind situation you forced her to promise you that no matter the time of night or day she would come over whenever she needed to. Lucy wouldn’t say she now abused the fact she had a key to your place, but it was used more than her own key to her apartment at this point.

“Y/n?” Lucy called out, she heard the faint sound of a groan coming from your bedroom, alerting her of your presents. “Hey, are you oka-” Her words were paused by the sight of you, your skin was shining with sweat and you were cramped in a fetal position. “My love, what happened?” she quickly came over to you touching your forehead, flinching at how warm it felt compared to her skin.

You only groaned and rolled over, “i really don't feel good luce.”

You tried your best to explain all your symptoms, but your scratchy throat only allowed for so much irritation before you were in a coughing fit. Lucy rubbed your back gently, doing her best to coax you through your attack, “Here let’s get you out of this stuffy room, and on the couch, yeah?” she encouraged. You nodded leisurely and threw your arm over her shoulder, allowing her to help you to your living room.

Quickly, Lucy put anything and everything you could possibly need besides the toilet in arms reach. “Before I leave, do you need absolutely anything else, babe?”  you only smiled at her with droopy eyelids, “No, but i wish you didn’t need to leave” you pouted at her causing her to smile. 

“Call me or text me if you need me, I'll be here in an instant.”

And then she was gone, you continued to pout until her next check up with you during lunch. “Okay, love, i brought you some chicken noodle soup and some cough syrup” she set the soup in front of you with cold water and a pre-measured cap of medicine. “Thank you, love” you croaked out, “You don’t have to thank me” she replied while helping you get in an upright position so you could comfortably eat your food and take the disgusting medicine.

“I'll be back after my shift, and remember to call-” “call you if i need anything, i know, honey.” you finished her sentence, she left you with a quick kiss on your forehead.

After eating and forcing yourself to down the medicine you fell back asleep, you woke up a handful of times with the constant tossing and turning, and being too hot or too cold. You finally decided you had slept enough and reached for the tv remote, aimlessly flipping through channels.

You heard the door click and a smile began to grow on your face, “sorry i'm late! Traffic has been just awful today” Lucy explained, taking her shoes off and sitting her to-go bag on the counter. “It’s okay hon.” you looked at her as she sat down. 

“How are you feeling?” Lucy asked you, as you laid your head down on her lap looking up at her, “I've certainly been better” you joked. 

She reached her soft fingers to rake through your hair, massaging your scalp, aiding the headache that had been attacking your head all day long. “Well i'm here now, darling” she looked down at you, soothingly rubbing your forehead, lulling you to sleep. 

She gave herself an imaginary pat on the back at getting you to sleep so quickly, making a mental note that maybe when you get better she’ll finally take you on a long awaited date.

[mintsturniolo]

oh baby... pt. 1 (m.s)

bf!matt sturniolo x f!reader x bsf!nick sturniolo

a/n: okay so i'm getting bored of writing fluff. can someone give me some angst or smut ideas please 😭 anyways i'm actively working on requests. i also have never gone to an ultrasound so... yeah idk what happens or doesn't happen there.

summary: hailey finds out she's pregnant and is scared about how matt is going to react

Matt was worried about his girlfriend. She’d been acting different lately and no one could figure out why. While it was no surprise that Hailey had a sensitive stomach, the most random things had been making her sick recently. He was currently waiting for Hailey to come out of their room, which she’d been hiding in for the past thirty minutes now. Matt and Nick looked up as the bedroom door opened and Hailey emerged from the room. She looked stressed as she looked at the two of them. “Nick, can we talk?” she asked running her fingers through her hair.

Noticing the confused look on Matt’s face, Hailey went over and gently planted a kiss on his lips. Matt smiled and took her hand. “Are you okay? I’m worried.”

“I’m fine, Matty” Hailey replied as Matt kissed her back. “I’ll be back in a little bit.”

Hailey led Nick to the bathroom and turned when she saw him hesitate. “Nicky please. I need to show you something.”

Nick glanced down the hall before following Hailey into the bathroom. He closed the door behind him and raised an eyebrow. “Well? What’s going on?”

Hailey took a breath as she motioned towards the sink. Nick looked over and his eyes widened when he saw an unopened box of pregnancy tests on the counter. “Oh my God,” he whispered. “What? Hailey!”

“I’m freaking out Nick. Matt and I agree we weren’t ready. I’m scared how he’s going to react,” Hailey panicked. “I just have a feeling I am. Everything’s been off and it explains all my symptoms.”

Nick took a deep breath, knowing that freaking out wasn’t going to help his friend. “Okay. Take one right now. I’ll be in the living room. Call me when you’re done.”

Hailey nodded, too nervous to reply. She watched as Nick left the room, closing the door behind him. Hand shaking, she opened the box and pulled out one of the tests. She followed the instructions on the box and set the timer. After the longest few minutes of her life, Hailey looked at the test. She immediately felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. It was positive. She didn’t realize how long she had been staring at it until Nick knocked on the door. “Hailey? Are you okay?”

“Come in here,” Hailey stuttered.

Nick walked into the bathroom and frowned when he saw the fear in Hailey’s eyes. “Girl-” he started.

“It’s positive,” Hailey interrupted. “I’m going to take another one to be sure, but this one’s positive.”

“Okay,” Nick said, his tone slightly excited, but mostly nervous.

“Can you get Matt please,” Hailey requested.

Nick left the room and a couple moments later, Matt walked into the bathroom. He wrapped his arms around Hailey’s waist and planted a kiss on her cheek. “Are you okay? What were you and Nick talking about?”

Hailey reached past Matt and picked up the pregnancy test. Matt’s eyes widened when he saw it. He examined the results before looking at Hailey for confirmation. “That means it’s positive?” he asked, excitement creeping into his voice.

Hailey nodded, searching her boyfriend’s eyes to see if he was mad. “I’m going to be a dad?” Matt asked, clearly still processing the information.

“I need to take a second test to be sure, but yeah,” Hailey replied as Matt hugged her tighter. “Are you mad? I know we weren’t planning this…”

“I’m not mad. Are you kidding? I just learned that I’m going to be a dad with one of the most amazing girls in my life. I’m shocked but so happy,” Matt said, leaning in for a kiss. “Who else knows?”

“Just Nick. I told him to keep it quiet til we were ready to say anything,” Hailey replied as tears started to run down her cheeks. “I’m so glad you’re not mad.”

Matt gently wiped the tears off Hailey's face as he looked into her eyes.

*8 weeks later*

Matt and Hailey were still in shock that they were going to have a baby. They had announced it to Chris who immediately started referring to himself as uncle Chris. All of the boys had been even more protective of Hailey if that were possible. Matt couldn’t believe that he was currently driving Hailey to her first ultrasound. He parked and they made their way into the building. Hailey’s name was called and she could feel the excitement building. She was about to see her baby for the first time. She let out an excited squeal and grinned up at Matt. “Are you ready?”

“I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life,” Matt replied as he squeezed Hailey’s hand.

Hailey had never seen Matt so attentive. He was incredibly focused as the doctor explained everything that would occur at this appointment, never once letting go of Hailey’s hand. The lady finished setting up the equipment and began to apply the gel onto Hailey’s stomach. After a few moments the doctor smiled. “Okay If you look right here, that’s your baby.”

Hailey couldn’t stop looking at the screen in front of her. Their baby was so small. Tears filled her eyes as she turned to look at Matt. “Look Matty, that’s our baby.”

“I know,” Matt said, smiling more than Hailey had seen in a long time.

When the appointment was over, Matt led Hailey out the door. It was quiet as the two of them processed everything. The ride home was full of anticipation. Hailey was eager to show Nick and Chris the ultrasound photo they had. When they pulled into the driveway, Matt went to the other side of the car to let Hailey out. He leaned down and kissed her for what felt like the millionth time today. He gently placed a hand on Hailey’s stomach, just as the front door opened. “Well are you guys coming inside or not?” Chris asked eagerly.

Matt laughed as he let go of Hailey. “Yeah. We got something to show you.”

Taglist

@adirtylittleheart @sturniolo04 @yourenogoodforme

[cy-cyborg]

I've seen my new GP twice now, and omg I didn't realise how bad things were with my previous one until now. Like I knew it was bad, but having someone who actually listens and cares to contrast to makes the shitty treatment stand out so much more. Some of the highlights:

My memory isn't great, so my partner wrote out a full report of what had been happening with a list of symptoms and a timeline of the most recent events, as well as printed versions of whatever tests results we could get before we arrived. Id summerised it at the top because every doctor id been to never reads what i give them, even when its from other doctors, but he read all of it, and asked clarifying questions as he did to make sure we were on the same page.

He actually read what little bits of my medical history had access to (while I've never seen this doctor before, I attended this clinic as a child, which was when most of the stuff associated with my primary disability was happening, so he could see that) and agreed that there is almost certainly something chronic going on that he will gladly investigate once the immediate issue is dealt with.

The fact I was autistic came up at some point, and I explained that I'm not formally diagnosed. My current psychologist and one other has done all the testing they can and they were both very confident I am autistic, but we can't get the formal diagnosis without a review from a neuropsyc because of something in my history, and I don't have the money to do that. My autistic traits are in my medical files but they're incorrectly attributed to something else. He was incredibly understanding of that and told me not to stress about the diagnosis (unless i want to, in which case he said hed support me from his end if he can) and asked if I could get something from my psychologist to explain how this might effect my treatment (not noticing symptoms, not being able to articulate problems consistently etc) so he knows what additional support I might need in the clinic.

He admitted to not knowing things, and told me how he was going to go about fixing that gap in his knowledge before my next appointment. For example, He admitted to never having a trans patient before, but that he's going to do some research on his own time to learn what he needs to do to be a better Dr for me.

He asked me to get some scans from a previous hospital stay, and picked up that I was hesitant. mum was with me and explained my auditory processing issues and how it makes communicating via phone hard. he told me not to stress and said he can get the receptionist to do it with my concent.

A lot of these aren't big things, but they make the world of difference when you have a complex medical history and its so refreshing just to feel heard after all this

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Foresight (Daemon Targaryen x Reader) 

Summary: The only time modern reader actually uses her intuition and hits the nail right on the head. 

Warnings: I barely know by now. Smut. Fingering.  Oral sex (F receiving) Non-con/ Dub con. I mean, reader consents, but you have read this series. Pregnancy. 

A/N: And… It’s a wrap, folks! My first series. Think of this as the epilogue. As always, you can shout at me in my asks. 

Previous parts here.

There is a certain irony in this, you think. You were once someone of no importance in a world filled with millions of people. Then, you were a servant in the Middle Ages. Now, you are a Lady of a noble house, married to a Prince. 

Yet, it’s the first time you are held in such a way. A slightly longer chain than the one for your wrists connects your ankles together. Despite being in one of the highest positions a woman could be in these times, you have never had less freedom.  

Now it’s a new girl, delivering your food. No matter how hard you try, she never answers your questions about Mina or what is happening outside your rooms. You discover it is because she doesn’t have a tongue. And she is terrified of even looking at you, too. You wonder what Daemon has done to her. 

Was she born like that? Did another Lord punish her? Or worse. Did Daemon take her tongue? Trying to guess what happened to her is good entertainment. Unfortunately, you soon realize it frightens her too much when you speak to her. You wouldn’t want to cause her a heart attack, and so, you have to quit it. 

You feel like an asshole. But you are desperate for company, to get someone to speak to you. The hopelessness you first felt has started to feel much like realization. You are not leaving. You are stuck with Daemon. 

To keep your mind occupied, you try to remember as many details of the time you are living in. You start with the cutting of tongues as your inspiration. Someone did something similar in the show. You didn’t pay as much attention to the story as you would have if you had known it was going to become your life.  

But someone had. Surely. What was it, with Westeros, and the forceful taking of the organs? They cut hands, tongues, fingers, eyes. God. 

If you remembered something else, it could be useful. Unfortunately for you, you had been too fixated on how hot some people looked to follow subplots. The exercise is useless, but you start writing what you can remember on parchments and hiding them from your captor. 

You feel like you are going insane. The only thing you do is pace and read, pace and read, all day. Something is wrong with you. You feel strange, like you are wearing clothes a size too small. Uncomfortable. Cranky. Sensitive. Lonely. 

You read once, that human beings have more needs than just eat, sleep and shelter. Maslow’s hierarchy of needs. People need to own things, they need friends and intimacy, they need purpose. Otherwise, bad things happen. 

Oh, but what? Could all your symptoms be explained by it? If you had a phone, you could look it up. Hell, even if it was the sixties, you could search it in a book. Not in the Middle Ages. Or well, Westeros. 

You long for Daemon’s company. He comes every afternoon and sits near the fireplace. You talk to him because there is nothing else to do. From time to time, you repeat that you are not a dreamer. He laughs. 

“You wouldn’t be this perfect for me if you weren’t.”

He is very cultured, and interesting. It's something you are desperately attracted to. It’s not only that you are now in what it’s effectively solitary confinement, no. Deeper than that. Just like Rhea, Daemon is one of the few people in the Runestone that can read. His mind is more open, he is less superstitious. Talking to him makes you less lonely. 

There is no way you can rationalize it, though. What you are doing is wrong. It’s a betrayal to Rhea, to someone you loved more than you could ever love him. But you are weak, too broken down by grief and fear to oppose him.  

You need someone to tell you everything will be alright. And Daemon makes sure he is available for the job. He fights off your loneliness when you ask him to. 

Sometimes, Daemon sits next to you on the bed and talks about Valyrian history or traditions. His tone is soft, and calming. His face lights up when you show an interest in the topic or ask questions that prove you are following his monologue. It’s like seeing an entirely different man. 

Before, you would have resented being babied in the way you are. Daemon treats you as if you were a little girl, one he entertains with tales and praises when she is good. Now, you crave the comfort of it. 

You still bathe together. Daemon never touches you, though. Not after the night you tried to escape. Sometimes, he just looks at you. You sit there, basking on the freedom of being able to move without the cuffs. You are no longer embarrassed of your nakedness. 

The chains frightened you, at first. You are not stupid. You are married to him, in chains and in a room bare except for the bed. What else would you think, if not rape? But Daemon was smarter than that. Insidious. Slowly, he had been coaxing you to let him touch you. At first, you squirmed like your pants were on fire when his hands were on your skin. Then, you had slowly come to accept it as part of your routine. And lately, to crave it. 

He had been conditioning into it, you are sure. First, the offers to tend to your wounds, then, massages to your sore ankles and wrists. It was a merely chemical thing, you tried reassuring yourself. Your brain had come to associate endorphins with his touch, and so, like an addict, you sought more. 

But you knew, it was no long now before you weren’t able to resist him. It was not a thing of physical strength. He wasn’t going to grab you and force you down. No. It was more complex than that. 

Daemon had acquired himself a dreamer, according to him. He was not keen on alienating you, but seducing you. He intended for you to be the one to come to him. Worst thing? You were so touch starved, and so lonely, it was working. Stockholm syndrome, surely. 

The next chain would be a child. It was the obvious thing to do, to keep control over the Vale and you. You would never leave if you were pregnant. What would you do, in your world, with a child that could potentially tame dragons and whose legal existence you couldn’t prove? It would surely be too late for abortion, and most probably, time would have passed. How to explain your disappearance? 

And of course, there is the fact that your body is rioting against your brain. No matter the phase of your cycle, you are perpetually horny. The smallest of touches or looks make your mind spiral, you daydream about sex and feel the urge to jump Daemon’s bones almost daily. 

Maybe there is some truth to whatever they are serving you. The milk and wine are always laced with spices, to make you more agreeable to his advances. At first, you thought it was silly, but by your current state, they seem to be working. You are desperate to be able to masturbate. But bound hands are not particularly useful. Besides, you have an inkling that’s not really what you want. 

Every night before bed, Daemon takes the cuffs off and lets you walk around your room. You make small laps around the room, sometimes he tries teaching you the dances people do at feasts. Then, he gets you ready for bed. 

Daemon rubs salve into your wrists and ankles. You don't ask him, but you know it has to have some aphrodisiacs on it. When his hands touch your skin, it feels electric. You knew aphrodisiacs existed in your world, even if they were fickle and old wives tales. But in a world where there is magic and dragons? Why not? 

Even if not, the whole thing is an assault on your senses. The room filled with incense and candles, the baths, the soft silky clothes. The silence. Usually, when people are not busy enough, they get horny, right?

Perhaps it's the mirror. There is one placed in your room for baths, once you are not on suicide watch. You see yourself for the first time in months, and nearly don’t recognize your reflection. Your hair is longer, falling messily down your back. The sheer shifts you wear, specially tailored for you, make you look put together and sensual.

Collarbones exposed, accentuated hips, bare arms. Botticelli’s Venus comes to life. The image arouses you. You feel naughty in all the right ways, sexy, desirable. 

Each night, Daemon’s hands rub the salve slightly higher. You find yourself yearning for his touch, anticipating the moments you will get with him. He massages your calves. Your forearms. He kisses your shoulders. You mewl, desperate. But Daemon doesn't do anything. 

You share secrets like they are oozing out of your pores. Aemond's birth. Criston Cole and Rhaenyra fucked. Lucerys. Joffrey. Harwin Strong. Alicent and the rat looking man. Daemon dutifully repeats them to Viserys. 

Were you meant to feel this way? You had never expected it, not in a million years. It's like standing on the edge of a cliff. Any second now, and you could plummet down. But what a fall it would be. 

Tonight, he is on his knees. Despite being in a dominant position, sitting on the edge of the bed, you don't feel powerful. Daemon has a way of entering a room and just making anyone else fade into the background. He overpowers anyone easily, by sheer presence alone. 

Daemon grabs your ankle and gently rubs at it, spreading the salve. He has said he doesn't want you to scar, or hurt. But your newest cuffs have padded interiors, making this whole act pointless. Neither of you voices it. 

You shiver. His hands massage your calves. 

“Daemon.” The first mistake. You have never, not once, called out his name before. It comes out soft and whiny, in a sweet whisper. 

“Should I stop, dreamer?” He gives you a coy look, as his fingers go higher and higher. Ankle, calf, back of the knee. His hands are warm against your skin. Daemon seems to have a fascination with touching you. He cannot keep his hands to himself, no matter how hard he tries. 

You say nothing. Daemon kisses your ankle, then your leg. He mouths along your knee. You feel so aroused, you think you are about to pass out. You shouldn’t give in, you know, you know. But it’s the sweetest torture. 

He stops right above your knee, looking at you with mischievous eyes. You pant, looking at him like you are about to murder him if he dares deny you now. 

“My poor little dreamer, have I neglected you so?” Daemon smirks, and parts your legs, making room for himself. “Don’t worry, we will fix this right away.” 

“Stop it.” You mutter, but before you can start explaining to him why this is a bad idea, you feel a sharp sting on your thigh. You moan, feeling utterly confused. In your aroused state, the sting of the bite feels almost pleasant. 

“It doesn’t sound like you want me to stop.” Daemon soothes the hurt with his tongue. He looks hungry, pupils blown and hair mussed just so. “Besides, I have been very patient with you, have I not?” His fingers dig in more harshly. He is right, of course. He could have fucked you already if he wanted to. It's not like anyone would come to your defense. 

“You have.” You agree, shakily. His tongue draws little ribbons over your inner thigh. You cannot stop moaning, for some reason. And you are no stranger to sex, not as Daemon thinks. You were not a virgin when you got here. Despite knowing this screams of consent issues and that he is trying to manipulate you, you cannot help it. 

You wonder how Rhaenyra and Laena ever stood a chance, being mere girls when they met him. If everyone told you this was wrong, but the first time he touched you felt this pleasurable, would you believe it? 

No. You are more than enough proof of it. 

“I will make it good for you, little one.” He kisses higher, this time. Along the juncture where your leg meets your hip. “It's a kindness most wives don't get.” 

“I know, but…” You stop talking and melt into a sight when he rubs a finger over your labia, spreading the wetness there. You know if you keep talking, he will be able to hear exactly how much his touch is affecting you. 

“I just want to look at you. And kiss you a little.” Daemon says, and his tone leaves no room for argument. His hands rub soothingly along the outside of your thigh. “I won’t take your maidenhead… Yet.” 

Maidenhead. What’s that supposed to mean? You try to remember, certain that you have heard it before. Rhea mentioned it? Or was it the girls? Maidens. They called maidens women who were virgins. God. He thinks you are still a virgin. 

He won’t fuck you, tonight. You hope that his plans for just touching and kissing include an orgasm because you feel like you will go mad if you don’t come tonight. 

You could tell him the truth. But what would you gain? Daemon only believes what pleases him. You have told him time and time again that you are not a dreamer. You even tried telling him you were from the future. His words still ring in your ears. 

“A world where men and women are equal? And there are no Kings? Oh, my poor confused little thing. You have been reading too much again.” 

So telling him would be no use. He might believe it another attempt at getting him to let you go. Or he might actually believe you and try to eviscerate any previous lover of yours. Or gauge their eyes out. Perhaps cut a hand. That’s who Daemon is at his core. 

No, it’s better this way. Playing along will get him to be gentler, and he won’t even be able to tell the difference. 

“Won’t it hurt?” You ask, and it comes out just the right amount of shy to be believable. It’s easy, leaning on the lingering fear of the fact that this is Daemon you will be going to bed with. Your body reacts to him like it has never reacted to another lover before, yet you shouldn’t be doing this. He is skilled at it. Whoever he was fucking before, she has trained him well. 

But now that you have allowed yourself to think, your hesitance takes hold. This is wrong, in so many ways. You shouldn’t be doing this. Yet, you want him so much, you feel like you might burst into flames if you don’t get him right now. 

The lure of the forbidden, in all its glory. 

“Not tonight.” He kisses your inner thigh, open-mouthed. You tense in anticipation. Daemon can be giving when he wants to be. 

“I don’t want it to hurt.” You close your legs, trapping his hand between them. Your lower lip lightly sticks out, playing the part of the disgruntled little girl. 

 Daemon chuckles. One of his fingers rubs teasingly over your clit. Being a brat always seems to rile him up, and you feel smug at knowing him so well. 

Oh, god. What are you even doing? Are you seriously contemplating ways of manipulating him during sex? You shouldn't even be thinking of fucking him. It's disgusting. 

It’s not. Not when Daemon’s hands are on your thighs, not when his lips are on your skin. You are just too needy for it. Too many nights have passed since the last time you had been touched in such a way. 

His hands knead into your thighs. The touch is greedy, possessive. He makes a tsking sound, and rubs a tight little circle over your clit. 

“I’ll warm you up to it. Don’t worry.” 

“I don’t… We really shouldn’t…” You plead, weakly. You are trying hard not to succumb to the pleasure. 

“Why not?” He asks, pressing his finger over your hole and making you nearly sob in pure neediness. He is not entering, just threatening with it. Both holding you in place and feeling you flutter around him. 

Daemon waits for your response, but when you don’t answer as quickly as he hoped, he starts sucking a bruise on your inner thigh.

“Because it’s wrong! You killed Rhea. You have no morals. And… Besides, it’s not me. I don’t want it.” You try to scramble away, suddenly regaining your senses. It must be the oils. Or the food. Or whatever he puts into your wine. 

“Oh?” Daemon presses your hips down with an arm, and rubs around your clit again. He makes a show of taking his fingers away from you and admiring them in the light. Your arousal shines on them, sticky wet. “If you don’t want it, why are you dripping all over the bed? What is it, if not arousal?” 

“The oils! The incense!” You complain. His hand, soaked in your juices, comes to cup your face. 

“Oh, sweetling, no.” Daemon laughs. He presses his thumb on your lower lip. Despite your best judgment, you open up and taste yourself. “They are not meant to warm your blood. This is all you.” 

Your whole body feels hot with embarrassment. He has to be lying. It can't be. You can’t be this… This… No. No. He has to be lying. 

Daemon laughs even more at the face you make. He kisses your neck, then your collarbone. He pushes at the strands of your shift, kissing all over your breast. You feel too ashamed, still reeling at the realization that this is, in fact, all you, to push him off. You are the crazy woman who is begging to have sex with a killer. 

He takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking slightly. You moan, arching your back to offer more skin to kiss. Daemon does so, greedily. 

He kisses your sternum, then your belly. He bites at the curve of your waist, making you squeal. His lips go lower, kissing over your womb. Then, your mound. And finally, your labia. 

Daemon pulls your lips apart and gently nips your clit, taking it between his teeth. Despite how gentle he is being, you jolt. It’s too much stimulation at once, and it’s bordering on the painful. Yet, he shows he can read your body well, because he quickly recovers and chooses to kiss your clitoral hood instead.

You moan again, all high-pitched. The vibrations of his laughter feel very pleasant against your sex. 

“That's it. Melt into it, little dreamer.” Daemon says, before going back to eating you out. This time, he sucks slightly harder. You tense in his arms. You can feel the pleasure rising and rising. Never has a partner driven you this fast towards an orgasm. 

It's too much and too little. 

“I… More, please.” You plead, petting his hair. 

He gets up, and kisses you, for the first time in months. You sigh into his mouth. It's then that he pushes his finger inside of you. Immediately, you tighten and tense around him, all sense of embarrassment gone. 

“This was just what you needed, wasn’t it?” Daemon whispers in your ear, biting your earlobe before speaking again. You buck your hips, trying to get him to move his finger. He complies, making a come and hither motion. His other hand rubs circles on your clit. “Yes, you needed someone to show you who you really were. My needy little dragon.” 

You try to swallow down your scream, muffling it with your hand. The praise, mixed in with the raspy, hungry tone it's delivered in, makes your head swim. 

“Come on, don’t fight it.” Daemon encourages, and bends down to take your nipple inside his mouth. It's enough to send you over the edge. This time, you actually scream, tensing under him. White, hot, blinding pleasure. And he strokes you through it, making everything more intense. 

As you pant there, coming down from your high, it occurs to you to return the favor.  It had been one of the best orgasms of your life, you wouldn't mind pleasing him in exchange. Your mouth watered at the thought of what else he could do. 

You place a shaky hand on his thigh, but Daemon pushes it away, gently. 

“You will learn to please me too, Wife. In time. But not tonight.” Daemon kisses your cheek, sweetly. 

“When?”

“We have the rest of our lives to figure it out.” It’s then when it sinks in. Daemon is never planning to let you go. You start to cry. What have you done? 

Daemon sighs. He starts rubbing soothing circles on your back, as if you were a child.  That night, he stays. You fall asleep in his arms, warm and relaxed. For the first time in weeks, you do not dream of Rhea. 

A few months go by. The season changes, from warm summer to harsh winter. And just as the season changes, so do you. 

You wake in your chambers, the bed next to you cold. Your ankles hurt. 

You put on a light dress, and go in search for your husband. As you pass the servants and guards, they give you respectful nods and greetings. 

Daemon sits on the Iron Throne. Viserys’s health has been worsening, lately. He looks up at you, taking his eyes from the parchment he is reading. His eyes greedily trace your figure. 

“I swear you get more beautiful every day.” He says, as you let your dress pool at your ankles. 

“Everyday I look rounder, more like it.” You complain. At the door, the guards discretely look away. If you want to parade around naked, so be it. It’s up to them to avert their eyes, if they don’t want to lose them, Daemon has instructed. 

No one dares oppose him. Not anymore, with you by his side. Viserys’s reign might just go down as one of the bloodiest in history, with how hard the two of them have been working to rid the realm of any future enemy of Rhaenyra. 

He laughs. 

“You do not. You look like my dreamer.” 

You roll your eyes at him, cradling your belly. His breathing hitches, minutely. There is arousal in his expression, once again. The more obvious your pregnancy becomes, the more he wants you. Daemon likes how your body has changed, how there are stretch marks on previously smooth skin, how your breasts are fuller. 

“My ankles hurt. Make it better?” 

What was life before him? You can barely remember how you functioned before, having to make all the decisions and thinking. Trusting him is easier. Daemon loves you. He wants the best for you. 

You don't hate him as much as you thought. You might even love him back. No. You love the pleasure he gives you, you are hooked to it. You need him like a heroin addict needs her next fix. 

Before, you used to be a good person. You cared about others. Now, you care about yourself, the baby and him. In that order. 

You had plans. You had a future, a career. Now, you live the day. If you think too hard about tomorrow, you feel like you can't breathe. So you don't. It's easier, this way. 

Daemon likes you more like this. Not a little girl anymore, but a woman. One he molded into his perfect partner.  Strong, but never stronger than him. Smart, but not enough to escape him. And a little broken. Still with a bit of fire, still a little rebellious. But never trying to get away. 

He says you are more of a goddess than a woman. Special. Holy.  Before, your courses aligned with the moon, your pregnancy timed just right. The baby should be here just when spring turns to summer. What could you be, if not a little goddess? 

The mysteries of womanhood fascinate him. It’s made even worse with your knowledge of the future.  He seems to think all you know about pregnancy is part of your powers as a dreamer. Once, you made the mistake of telling him the baby could hear him. Daemon has never skipped a day of talking to them since. 

You barely think of Rhea, these days. Daemon keeps you away from Runestone and occupied with other matters. Matters that are much more pleasurable to think about than your past. 

“Come, Lady Wife.” 

And you do. 

You wear other kinds of chains now. 

[pineappleciders]

sp main 4 with a reader who has an eating disorder; platonic headcanons

includes: stan, kyle, cartman, and kenny

A/N: kyles and kennys look so much longer than the rest oops LOL, also the ed is restrictive n implied as anorexia but others could fit it too 🤫

stan marsh

he notices when you don't eat your lunch, and how you tend to leave after meals. he doesn't think it's weird though, acknowledging that it's normal to have something not agree with your stomach or just not being hungry.

but, it started to worry him a little as it became more frequent, and how you were losing weight rapidly

he probably doesn't ask about it at first, but sometimes he'll mention little things or try to subtly express concern

"do you not like your lunch? you can have my fries, if you want."

he might confront you about it, and assumes that there's something else going on in your life that's been affecting you. he figures that would explain the lethargy, the dizziness, and how pre-occupied you are.

he has no idea what an eating disorder is.

you have to explain it, and he probably does some research online about what your disorder is and it just kinda. clicks for him. like the puzzle pieces snap into place

he thinks of all the times you've shown symptoms and warning signs, and he feels like a complete asshole for ignoring them

he keeps it in mind afterwards. he'll offer you pieces of his lunch, and invite your family over for dinner. he also reminds you that he's there for you, whatever that means.

he tries to spend more time with you, sort of as a way to ease his mind that you're safe. and he has his mom make your favorite snacks when you two hang out!!

stan tries to be more mindful of his words, and takes other peoples mental health more into consideration. it's kind of a wake-up call to him

"damn, Y/N, you got sand in your vagina? you look awful."

"lay off, cartman."

"what?! i'm just saying! we were all thinking it!"

if you get really dizzy and nearly faint he gets really scared and immediately takes you to the school nurse. like he's very concerned that you're dying or something and falls asleep in the nurses office waiting for you to recover

he doesn't fully understand the disorder, but he still feels really bad about it!!!! he hopes that one day you'll have a better relationship with food. until then, he's happy to do everything he can to make it easier on you

kyle broflovski

he's probably a little ignorant of your symptoms at first, like he'll tell himself in his head that it's probably nothing.

in fact, he probably thinks you're sick. puking, not eating, always tired. he assumes it's just the common cold, and doesn't pry.

he can't help but worry though. bringing your own lunch with barely anything in it, never staying still, always drinking diet drinks. it was little things that added up and made him suspicious

he wants to mind his own business, but he figures he would be a bad friend if he just let you go through whatever you're going through on your own. he has to be there for his friends.

"Y/N? dude, can i talk to you? over here." kyle pulls you out of the hall into a secluded area.

"uhh, yeah, what's up?"

"uh, listen dude, are you sick or something? like, you haven't been eating any of your lunches, and to be honest... you look terrible."

"gee, thanks."

"ah, i didn't mean it like that. you look exhausted, i mean look at your eyebags! is.. is something wrong?"

you struggle to find words.

"yeah, no, i'm.. i've been fine. a cold, is all."

".. are you sure?"

"...yyyeah."

he keeps an eye on you after that, giving a worried look and furrowed brow when you refuse to eat, but you dismiss it every time.

he starts to research online about what could possibly be going on. not eating, always tired, low-energy, regurgitation...

he comes to the conclusion you might have an eating disorder, and he's honestly super lost on where to go from there. does he confront you about it? does he say nothing and leave you alone? is it any of his business?

he decides to start trying to ease his way into conversation by packing you a lunch one day. that way, you have to eat it!

he does little things like that, like following you to the bathroom after lunch or stopping you during laps around the school. it's... a little manipulative, trying to pressure you into cracking or stopping your bad habits. but, he really doesn't know how else to approach this.

once he talks to you about it, he tries his best to be emotionally available for you. he tries to keep his mouth shut and listen to you talk.

afterwards, he'll give you little pats on the shoulder as encouragement, or bring little chocolates from home for you in his lunchbox. he knows he isn't the best with stuff like this, so he tries to show his care by inviting you to play video games at his house.

to him, quality time can be one of the best ways to bond with someone. he's always inviting you to hang out or go out for dinner with his family!

eric cartman

"you gonna eat that?"

"like you need anymore food, fat-boy."

he's mainly confused on why you're acting so weird. it's sloppy joe day, dude. what the fuck are you doing staring at the wall??

most definitely takes the food you don't eat

"dude, Y/N, what crawled up your ass and died? you've been picking at your food all period."

"..nothing."

he huffs and turns back to his tray, mumbling under his breath. "well, fine, be a dick."

if you were to ever pass out, he'd assume you didn't sleep enough or have like. heart issues or something. which wouldn't be that far off

he only really cares if it causes some sort of medical problem or something. like heart disease, fainting and hitting your bead. then atp it gets him a little nervous. mostly because he isn't prepared to rush anyone to the er anytime soon

it bugs him. like it gradually gets more and more under his skin how you're obviously starving yourself. yeah, he knows. and he wish he didn't, because it's so confusing to him

why???? what is the purpose??????

honestly might subtly try to talk to stan or kenny about it. not cuz he cares. definitely not

"have you noticed Y/N lately??"

"what about them?"

he sighs. "god, you really haven't noticed? they're totally ana-recks-it or whatever it's called. they hurl in the bathroom after lunch every day."

it's kind of hard for him to grasp his mind around,,,, so he chooses to ignore it. it still pisses him off though to no avail

he knows a bit about eating disorders from the internet and stuff, and that you're probably doing it out of insecurity or something. he really doesn't care about that part, but your habits gradually annoy him more and more

sometimes he'll just. push food to you at the lunch table. and when you ask why he's like huffing and reaches to take it back like "well damn i'll have it myself then"

he does get actually concerned if you get super light-headed or something. like if you stand up from your seat and fall back gripping your head he'll look at you from across the room all curious

and might take you to the nurse if nobody else will. maybe

kenny mccormick

yeah, he notices. he doesn't bring it up very often, how you don't eat a lot at lunch, mainly to save you any embarrassment.

he honestly just assumes you don't eat around him in particular out of sympathy. he thinks that you see his measly sandwich and apple and don't eat out of guilt. which he himself feels really bad about

tries to ask you what's wrong and ask if you don't want your food,, but tries not to make a big deal out of it

observes you a little closer, taking mental note of your weird little behaviors. going to the bathroom frequently, always walking, never quite seeming comfortable at your lunch table. he couldn't put his finger on it!

it was one day when you fainted and had to be sent to the nurses office that he pieced it together. he hadn't learned a lot about eating disorders, only a few bits and pieces off the web.

he felt guilty, for some reason. like he had failed you as a friend

i feel like if he were to confront you about it, he'd do it in a subtle way, not like an interrogation. he already feels like he's invading your privacy by mentioning it!!

he might bring it up while you're playing video games in your room. "mmph, mmmph? mm mm mmph mph mmphph? (hey, Y/N? can i ask you something?")

you pause the split-screen game you two were playing and look at him. "sure dude, go for it."

he looks around a little before his eyes land back on you. "mmphh.... mph mmphph mph mmph mph mmph mmphph mppphpm mmph mmmph. (so, i wanted to talk to you about something really important.")

you raise your eyebrow a little. "ookay."

he fidgets a little. "mph... mph mph mmphph? mmph.. mp mmph mph mphph mhp mmfmf mmphph mmphph. mmph mph? (well... are you okay? i've noticed you've been kinda distant lately. what's up?")

you feel your heart drop a bit, anxiety starting to swell. "uh.. i've been fine, i don't know what you're talking about."

his eyes look a little rejected, but he keeps trying. "mm.. mphm mph mphph mmf mm mph mph mmph mph. mp.. mp mph mmf mmf.. mphpmf mphhfm? mph mmmphph?(uh.. i'm just gonna say it. do.. do you have like.. eating problems? a disorder?")

he appreciates that you're talking to him about it, even if you're being honest or not.

he won't treat you differently afterwards. he'll give you a good pat on the back and a smile (you can only tell by the crinkle of his eyes), but he treats you the same.

he'll point out your funky mannerisms even less, and reminds you that you can talk to him. he isn't great at talking but he's great at listening!!!! also tries to be nicer to you. but he doesn't do it consciously, he just feels more of an urge to help you out and even protect you. specifically from cartman.

[russellsppttemplates]

You need some down time (Pierre Gasly)

You thought you had been able to adjust your routine to Pierre's calendar, but your body showed otherwise

Note: english is not my first language. This can also work as an alert for you (and for me too tbh) to take care of yourself and listen to your body. You should work on your dreams but also rest whenever you need ✨️ also, I feel like I can finally write about remote work without having flashbacks from my dissertation

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

my masterlist

Tw: reader's excessive tiredness (mentions some symptoms and taking pills for headaches)

"Then we are meeting Esteban there, we'll have to present a talk to the group of sponsors and then we have dinner", Pierre explained.

"And you're sure I can get there on time and not bother? I don't want to make a big entrance where everyone looks at me", you chuckled, "no, it's fine. They're waiting for you already, so you won't be a stranger", he smiled, "I'll just send you the ticket so you have it on your phone", your boyfriend added, hearing you fumble with a plastic medicine wrapper, "is everything alright?", he asked looking up from his phone to see you taking what looked like a paracetamol, "just a little headache, probably have been staring too long at the computer", you reasoned back, drinking some water from your bottle, "is that the bottle you filled this morning? If it is, you're not drinking much water either, and that's not good for you, mon ange", Pierre said pulling you gently so you could lay your head on his chest, "you know I've always been terrible at drinking water".

Like Pierre told you, the guy at the front of the event scanned your ticket, immediately seeing on the computer where he should be escorting you, already seeing a few familiar faces as you made your way to the high tables, seeing your boyfriend and his new teammate along with some of the members of the Alpine PR Team, "Hi everyone! So sorry I was late. The meeting went long and then the traffic here from the hotel was not easy either", you noted, standing next to Pierre, "you look lovely, Y/N, I'm glad you could join us at last", Esteban complimented.

"Thanks, Yuki!", you said, and to anyone else, they thought it was automatic, "sorry, Esteban", you apologised, laughing when the French driver laughed too.

The dinner turned out to be a nice and calm setting, contrasting with the excitement and buzz of the previous event, "do you want some dessert to share? I'm fancying something sweet but I don't think I can eat all of it", you mentioned to Pierre, looking around the menu and deciding on what you wanted to order.

Leaving the restaurant, you latched yourself to Pierre's arm, supporting yourself on him as you walked to the car he had driven there, "are you busy tomorrow?", he asked, "yes, the usual. But I think I'm going to clock in later, I think, a meeting has been pushed", you mumbled, yelping when you felt yourself stumble in your heels even though you know how to walk in them just fine, "nearly fell there, are you good?", your boyfriend asked, "it seems, yes. But I'm good".

.

The ring of your phone brought your attention from your laptop to the smaller device, seeing Pierre's mother contact appear for a video call.

"Hi, Pascale, how are you?", you asked, saving the changes you made to the document on your laptop before paying her you full attention, "I'm great, chérie. How have you been doing? I hope I'm not catching you at a bad time!", she nudged, "no, it's fine. Perks of working remotely, I don't need to worry about my boss breathing down my neck since I just need to meet the day's goals", you joked, looking at your planner, "and I'm nearly done for the day", you smiled.

Without your control, your hands trembled a little and you were unable to grasp your phone properly, leaving it to fall on the carpeted floor, "Y/N, is everything okay?", you heard Pascale say, "sorry, Pascale, my phone just slipped from my hands", you explained as you grabbed it, checking for any scratches and seeing none, "butter fingers, hm?", she giggled, bringing a small smile to your face, "more like sweaty fingers, I guess".

When Pierre arrived back from his event, he found you just the moment you shut the lid of your laptop, "Only finishing now, amour?", he asked, kissing the top of your head, "yes. Your mother also called me so I had a good break between my tasks", you noted, getting up and grabbing the remote control for the AC to turn it off since the room had cooled off enough, "now, what do we have for tonight?", you asked, "for a change, I don't have anything. Do you want to go explore the city or just sit here?", he wondered, "can we stay in, please? My head hurts a little, probably from being at the laptop all day", you mumbled, "room service and dim lighting it is then".

.

Finally, you were going home. It had been an intense couple of weeks and you were oozing forwards to spend some time with Pierre and his family without a tight schedule filled with events.

Arriving at the airport, Pierre was quick to get everything ready and you were waiting in line with the time perspective you had expected, greeting the crew and making your way inside the aircraft.

"Here, my love, you can hold my hand", you nudged, knowing that Pierre wasn't the biggest fan of flying, feeing him squeeze your palm.

"Hi, I'm so sorry to inform, but the flight will leave with a delay. The estimate is around forty five minutes", one of the flight attendants apologised, carrying on to inform the rest of the passengers.

"For Goodness sake", you mumbled, groaning slightly ad you felt Pierre squeeze your hand again, "I'll just text my dad that we'll arrive later", he mentioned, grabbing his phone and doing so. "Sorry, I know it's not the end of the world", you mumbled, letting your head rest on his shoulder and closing your eyes for a bit, "it's okay, hopefully soon they'll have some informations", Pierre offered, holding your hand in his and kissing the side of your head.

When you finally landed, you grabbed your bags and walked to the hall where you'd be meeting Jean, "I've never been so happy so see your father, I swear", you mumbled, walking up to the older Gasly man and allowing him to greet you and carry your bags to the car.

Walking up to the bedroom you'd be staying in, you managed to take your pyjamas out along with your toiletries bag, changing out of your clothes, washing your face and brushing your teeth before you met Pierre in bed, "I've been dreaming of this bed for the entire day", you groaned as you finally felt the fresh sheets on your legs, looking forward to cuddle Pierre for the night, "sleep tight, handsome, I love you", you offered, "Good night, mon ange, I love you too", he whispered before kissing your forehead one last time for the night.

Despite his usual routine and his sleep routine working like a clock, Pierre managed to sleep for a little bit longer than usual, opening his eyes to find you curled up on yourself and still facing him, making him brush some hairs away from your eyes and caress your cheek, admiring your features. Your skin was a little more faded than usual, and the circles under your eyes were darker, but hopefully this holiday would help you restore your energies. When you didn't wake up from his touches, he thought it was best to leave you to rest, getting up and tucking you further in, putting on a t-shirt and heading dowstairs to meet his family.

"Bonjour, dear, did you sleep well?", his mother greeted him, kissing his cheek as he poured himself a glass of water, "bonjour, yes, I did, and it seems Y/N is sleeping quite well, too. She's still in deep sleep", he noted, seeing his father arrive in the room.

"Bonjour everyone, I have fresh pastries and bread!", Jean announced, setting the paper bags on the table, "I have Y/N's favourites too, they were nearly running out but I managed to grab a few", he said, looking around for you, "she's still asleep. Although I'm not sure dreamland wins over these croissants", Pierre said, taking one straight from the bag and biting into it.

By now, Pierre started to get worried. Everytime he went upstairs to check on you, you were still sound asleep and not a sign that you'd wake up soon. "Is she coming down? I can warm up some of the croissants", Jean commented when his son came back, "thank you, but no need. She's still sleeping", Pierre murmured, sitting in the sofa next to his mother, "she must've been exhausted", she reasoned, "every time I called either of you, you were either about to fly somewhere or needing to be at some event, I even interrupted her a few times while she was working and you were off somewhere", she reasoned, "it wasn't easy on her, that's for sure".

The words resonated on Pierre's mind. It had been a couple of busy weeks, even he felt it. Travelling around so he could engage with the new team he was part of was as incredible as it was tiring, and having you there was the safe haven he needed whenever he felt a little lost. But had you been taking care of yourself for all of that time too? Was he the person you turned to when you needed to feel safe too?

About an hour and a half later, you woke up, cursing yourself as soon as you looked at the clock and scrambled out of bed so make yourself look presentable. Deciding that, for now, leggings and an oversized shirt would have to do, you made your way downstairs to greet everyone, "Good morning! I'm so sorry I overslept, I swear I didn't do it on purpose!", you apologised, seeing Pierre make his way to you so he could hug you a kiss your cheek, "hey, is everything alright?", he asked, holding your hand in his and pulling you to sit by the table, seeing his parents get started on what you figured was already lunch, "yes, I'm good. Let me help with that, please, Pascale. It's the least-", you attempted before being shushed by her.

"No need for that, chérie. But we do want to talk about how you are", she said softly, "you had us worried for a bit, I kept telling Pierre to check if you had a fever or something like that", she tried, knowing that you had already noticed where she was going.

Sighing, you placed your hands on top of the table fiddling wirh your fingers, "honestly? I feel a little rested, but not fully rested", you admitted, "it's been a lot these past couple of weeks. Work has been non stop, I have been covering some of my colleagues' vacation days, I feel like I'll need a few days to unwind even. The first thing I thought about when I woke up was that I was late for a meeting such is the habit to be in a squeeze of time", you gulped, "it has been a struggle, and I'm just grateful to finally have some down and off time", you finished, squeezing Pascale's hand that found yours on the cold surface.

"I know you don't need me to tell you this, but you need to take care of yourself, Y/N! You can't go around the day and sleep so little, we saw how busy you were!", she scolded still softly, meaning no harm and rather wanting to help you and make sure you took care of yourself and your well-being. "These days you're here, you're catching up on your sleep, eating good food, having some down time and taking care of yourself, I won't allow anything else under my roof!", Jean jokingly threatened, pointing his finger at you before smiling.

Pierre was looking like you expected him to. "Hey, no guilty frown, please!", you tapped your boyfriend's forehead, hoping to soften his expression, "you had your own things to worry about, and besides, it's also my doing because I didn't want to say anything", you admitted. "But still! I saw you were getting up earlier so you could meet me later, saw that you'd have quick lunches and how you felt more tired. I thought it was all jet lag and being busy, but it was more than that", he reasoned, tracing shapes on your hands, "it's all behind us now, okay?", you reassured, nuzzling your face in his neck when he pulled you into his embrace.

"Now, how about you two go enjoy some croissants outside? Despite the cold, it is a lovely sunny day outside. Just make sure you're warm enough, okay? I don't want anyone sick in this house!", Pascale announced, placing the food tray in the oven.

[autistic-katara]

ok i might get blocked by a couple ppl for saying this but the Jackson’s Diary fandom is seriously making me wanna become a proshipper out of spite (read the post before blocking me or whatever please)

like idk if u guys have checked the fandom tag on ao3 recently but theres been a bit of drama surrounding the fact that someone posted a smut-fic of Exer (an 18yo) and David (an almost 18yo, who was aged up A FEW MONTHS for the fic) and they were harassed into taking it down and making a fucking apology post ON AO3, THE PROBLEMATIC FANWORKS WEBSITE.

and this fic was tagged 100% correctly like it was very explicitly tagged as smut n stuff yet there were still a bunch of comments being like “uhm what did i just read 🤨” and when i made a comment defending the authors right to yk, not be harassed for making not even rlly problematic content someone who clearly would suffer withdrawal symptoms if they turned twitter off for too long started arguing with me abt how “erm ackhtually we should be allowed to comment harassment under ppls harmless and explicitly tagged fics cause theres no smut in this fandom and it shocked us” and u could just rlly tell they felt they were more righteous than God in their opinions and yeah so cut to tonight when i’m scrolling through the tag and i see a post titled “i’m so sorry” in which the author made a post basically being like “i’m so sorry for posting that ik it was disgusting it has been permanently deleted” which in the comments a few ppl were telling them that what happened sucked n stuff (myself included // judging by their reply they only did this to stop the harassment which yk, completely fair) and i went back to scrolling since i wanted an actual fic not fandom drama but like 2 posts down there was another post titled “please stop” or smthn like that where someone else made a post basically being like “guyssss can we please not write smut of these characters this fandom is so wholesome i dont wanna ruin it 🥺 anyways sorry this isnt a fic this just needed to be said lol” and like dude, my guy, WHAT THE FUCK?!

this is AO3, this is a fanwork archive that as far as i know was created (at least partially) due to the fact that ppl kept getting their “problematic” works taken down from other sites and the creators wanted to yk archive all fanworks. this is NOT a social media site where u can make callout posts abt how what someone else posted disturbed ur pure wholesome chaste scrolling by daring to uploaded something with *gasp* consensual sex between 2 consenting adults?! (or canonically 1 consenting adult and 1 consenting gonna-be-an-adult-in-a-few-months-but-isnt-much-younger-than-the-first-guy but u get the idea)

like guys, ao3 is not twitter. it is not tiktok, it is not tumblr, its not youtube, its not even wattpad. it is not a social media platform, it is a fanwork archive, specifically one that lets u post whatever kinda content u want (yes, even smthn depicting 2 consenting adult/almost adult participates that are in no way related having sex, ik its crazy what they allow online these days).

and look honestly the callout post wouldn’tve annoyed me this much if it was posted on yk an actual social media. like if it was posted on twitter or tiktok or on youtube as a video essay or even on here, like sure if i saw it id be annoyed that this fandom cant handle the tiniest bit of non-puritanicalism and fuck, maybe if it was on here id even drag myself into a pointless days-long argument that causes me suicidal levels of stress but on archive of our fucking own itself?! for the millionth time, IT IS NOT A SOCIAL MEDIA! u dont make posts like that that u want the rest of the fandom to read or whatever on there because its not that kinda website!

anyways yeah i hope i explained the situation ok, u might be able to check it out urself if u feel like it and yeah idk this whole thing just kinda felt like a wake-up call for me like yes i find incest and pedophilia disgusting OBVIOUSLY and i dont like ppl romanticising it in fiction but idk i’ve seen ppl talk abt toxic antis before and show screenshots of conversations where theyve acted super shitty but idk seeing this all unfold in person and having to argue with these hardcore antis just- i dont wanna be associated with these ppl, if these are what alotta antis r like i dont want anyone to assume i agree with them like at all, whether its other antis, proshippers, or ppl like me who have a super complicated opinion on it. like they harassed a person into taking down their smut and made call-out posts on ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN abt how they dont want their wholesome pure fandom corrupted by gross dirty irredeemable sex. and just yeah hope no mutuals i seriously care abt unmoot or even block me over this since ik a few of u r antis but yeah srry for this i just kinda seriously hate this fandom right now :)

also incase anyone is typing out a “kill yourself pedo” reply/rb rn; i turn 15 on Friday, i am 2+ years younger than ur innocent bb minor boy David and his definitely not already a legal adult boyfriend Exer so yk

[cheetahspy]

Ledger!Joker x Diabetic Reader Headcanons

Warnings: Medical stuff, needles/injections (it’s not very descriptive though), slight NSFW mention (labeled at the bottom)

A/N: Heya! I’ve never posted something like this before haha…Kinda new to it and very nervous so don’t judge me too harshly. I actually write quite often but rarely post it, however I really wanna start trying to put my work out there more. Keyword try. 

Anyway, fun fact about me, I have T1 diabetes. I haven't seen anything about that with J so I decided to make my own headcanons and such :) Sooooo here’s that lol…enjoy??

You had been diagnosed with T1 diabetes three years ago. You hated it. The needles, the upkeep, the blood, the appointments. It’s scary, a living nightmare for you.

You were still in your…adjusting phase, and didn’t like talking about your diabetes to anyone. Joker was no exception

So, naturally, J took matters into his own hands and did his own research, learning as much as he could about diabetes (without you knowing, of course). How it works, the high and low blood sugar levels, how to manage it, he even figured out how the insulin pump that you have operates. 

You were shocked the day he offered to change the infusion set for you and knowing how to do so. He ignored you when you asked him how he knew.

You were hesitant but quick to give in and let him inject the cannula into your stomach. He hugged you from behind as he did so; you melted into his touch and your fears were comforted. From that day on you opened up more and more about your medical life to J and allowed his help. 

He enjoys being the one to inject the cannula and dexcom, however he still forces you to do it yourself at times, as to make sure you aren’t getting too used to being dependent on someone else. You’re a strong and brave bunny, he wants to remind you of that. 

He will tease you about your dexcom and infusion sets, saying you must be part machine. 

“I’m uh, still convinced you’re a cyborg.” “J!!”

He also forces you to stay on a healthy diet and keeps track of your sugar intake carefully. He’s definitely not a hypocrite. He rarely lets you eat junk food, even though you’re allowed to and tried explaining that to him

“The doctors told me it’s okay if I eat sugar now and then, as long as I have the insulin for it. It’s the sugary drinks I need to avoid more.” 

J doesn’t buy it, nor does he trust your doctor's input. “Mmm. Nuh uh. Can’T have my little bunny go falling into a coma, hm?” You know he’s just concerned about you (even if he’d never outright admit it), so overtime you stopped arguing with him and avoided junk food to ease his mind. Just don’t let him catch you eating it behind his back.

J absentmindedly fidgets with your insulin tube. Rubbing along it, flicking it around, twirling it around his finger, even constantly feeling the cannula end of it against your stomach as if to reassure himself you that it’s still on and doing its job. Don’t worry, he’s only accidentally ripped it out once or twice, and he certainly makes it up to you when that happens. 

Having a low, but forgot sugar to combat it? Not to worry! Joker keeps a juice box or two in his suit juuuust for you. He’s even stacked packages of juices in your pantry so you’ll have plenty. (Don’t ask whether he bought or stole them, you already know the answer)

The low blood sugar episodes hit you hard, but you’ve found curling up on J’s lap and cuddling against his chest while sipping on juice is very comforting. He’ll stroke your hair and rub your back, holding you closer whenever you shake and cry.

“Shhhh sh sh sh. It’s nothin’ you haven’t beaten before. It’ll pass, angel.” 

You hate looking at your stomach and seeing the previous holes and scars from constant injections. J will run his thumb over them and kiss each of them to comfort you. 

Whenever you have a headache or any symptoms, J will immediately interrogate you about your blood sugar level

“Not every pain I get is caused by my diabetes.”

“Shuuuuush. What’re levels right now? Let me uh, lemme see your pum-p. Give. Right. Now.” 

If you’re low on insulin and the pharmacist is late to sending you new vials, J will meet with them personally to have a little chat. 

He’ll then come home and plop the bag of new vials theatrically down on the counter. “Tadaaaa! More insulin for my sweet little sugar cube.”

“Oh, thank you J! Wow, they gave me a lot this time…” 

NSFW:

During the ✨devils tango✨, J will occasionally rip the cannula out by accident. He’ll immediately put a pin in your lovemaking session to get you a new one. Even if you insist you could go an hour or two without it, he’s not taking any chances. After all, where’s the fun in sex if your partner is dying from a seizure??

“J, I promise it’s okay! We don’t have to sto-”

“Now now gumdrop. I know you’re, heh, eager for me, but my patient needs her medicine first.” 

You’re grateful you don’t have to deal with your disability alone anymore. Who knew the Clown Prince of Crime could be such a good caretaker?

[lastoneout]

Hey uh @ people with ME/CFS I got a question...

Everything I've read and heard about kinda seems to go hard on the idea that over-exerting yourself tends to lead to exhaustion that just never gets better at all no matter how long you rest after, and like I always assumed I didn't have it, because yeah overexerting myself tends to make me way more exhausted than is does other people and the exhaustion lasts like, a week or more sometimes, but it does eventually get better.

Like last weekend I went shopping for my birthday and also to an art gallery, and then I did a few small errands, and I conserved my energy as best I could, resting often, using mobility aids, ect, but I had to spend Mon-Fri in bed doing basically nothing aside from watching youtube, listening to music, and playing tetris because that was all I had the physical and mental energy to do. And granted that was dragged out a little because I had to go to the ER on Wednesday due to a migraine that got triggered by all this(bcs overexerting myself almost always triggers a migraine) and on Tuesday I sat in the car while we took my cat to the vet for a quick nail trim, but aside from that I just rested and even though I am feeling a bit better today I'm still just SO fucking tired and I know I'm going to have to take it easy for a few days more just to be sure I'm okay.

Which like, idk doesn't sound normal, that's for fucking sure, but I do know that with enough rest eventually I will return to my normal, which isn't everyone else's normal but is still normal enough that I can make myself easy meals and sit at my desk and talk to people and make phone calls and run errands without it killing me too badly.

But like idk my doctors seem convinced that I don't have any kind of autoimmune condition(although they haven't actually ran any tests they just keep insisting I'm not showing the signs of one and to keep up with physical therapy even when I tell them that just going clothes shopping for a few hours puts me on bedrest for the next 2-3 days) but idk again this does NOT seem normal. I legit feel SICK sometimes when I push myself too hard, like I think I'm coming down with a cold or something but it never actually turns into one, I just have that "eugh" sick feeling for a day or two and then it goes away once I've rested enough(also for clarification I never get any real cold/illness symptoms like a temperature and I mask literally everywhere and this ONLY happens after exertion so I don't think I'm actually getting sick). I also don't usually feel rested when I sleep but I always chalked that up to the insomnia more than anything?? But it does happen even when I have a good night's sleep with no tossing and turning or nightmares...

Anyway if anyone who does have Chronic Fatigue Syndrome could maybe explain to me what it's like for them I would appreciate it because idk what else could possibly be going on with me but I am so fucking tired of my doctors acting like there is nothing wrong. It might not be ME/CFS, and I have been diagnosed with fibromyalgia so maybe this is all just that? So I also wouldn't mind if someone who has fibro can tell me if this is all just fibro stuff. But idk I just want to know for sure, you know? (If it helps in addition to the fibro I also have arthritis, hEDS, orthostatic Intollerance, and occipital neuralgia.)

[agent-barnes40]

Sick

13th Doctor & Reader (Platonic)

The Fam + Dan & Reader (Platonic)

The Doctor knows someone in Team TARDIS is sick, and she'll figure it out. She always does.

Sort of a sequel to Escape and yes, I'm pretty sure I have a cold. The ending is abrupt but with Escape, it was an abrupt ending as well.

TW: contagious illness talk

-

The Doctor knew someone was sick, she usually could tell. She is a Doctor after all, well not really a doctor but she could be one if she needed to and right now she really needed to be one. The TARDIS had alerted her that one of the humans on the ship was sick and she couldn't really figure out who, so she implemented a down week, where she could keep an eye on everyone.

Right now, Yaz and Ryan were doing their own things in their rooms while Dan and Graham were busy watching shows in the TARDIS theater room. You were curled up in your room, probably sleeping or reading in bed. The TARDIS always tracked where everyone was, including The Doctor.

The Doctor knocked on Yaz’s door, a subconscious tap of four, and she grimaced a small bit but smiled when Yaz tossed the door open. “Is the sick week almost over?”

“No, one of you guys are still sick and I was hoping it’d be over by now but it’s still sticking. I was just coming to check on you, see if you started having any symptoms.” The Doctor quickly explained, her hands moving quicker than her words were. She had pressed her hands against Yaz’s forehead and then stilled.

A loud sneeze echoed down the corridor and then a croaky voice echoed “Sorry.”

Yaz laughed softly. “Think we found your patient, Doc.”

The Doctor laughed as well, turning to look down the hallway. "You get settled back into whatever you were doing, Yaz. I'll take care of them."

Yaz laughed again, a whole new burst of noise. "Yeah, yeah, cause your The Doctor."

The Doctor never expected to see you around the corner, she had abandoned Yaz at her door so she could hunt down her patient. You had been bundled up in a blanket, one Graham had gotten you when The TARDIS had accidentally lost your blanket. The Doctor looked you over, barely giving you time to register who was touching you. Her hands were pressing on your forehead, and then checking your lymph nodes.

You smiled and just stared at her, leaning into her colder hands. "Hi Doc."

The Doctor smiled softly and looked at you fully. "How are you feeling?"

"Cold, and warm and hot, all at the same time." You mumbled and she nodded.

"Yeah, you have a cold. Lets get you back to your room. Don't want you spreading this around the TARDIS." The Doctor said, pulling her hands away and you whined softly.

The Doctor wrapped an arm around your waist, to help direct you to your room. "I was heading to the kitchen, I wanted to get food."

The Doctor nodded, and turned the two of you back around. "I'll bring you some soup, okay?"

You nodded and leaned on her. "Can you have anyone else make the soup? Your a bad cook."

She laughed softly and nodded. The Doctor turned to open your door after a while and led you inside. You had a tight grip on her as she led you to your bed, and got you sat down on it. Her hands immediately grabbing the top comforter to wrap it around you. "How's the body aches?"

"Horrendous. My spine literally feels like its been operated on. My shoulders hurt too." You complained and lied down as The Doctor pushed on your shoulders just a tiny bit to have you lie down.

"Can I can scan you? Make sure you don't have anything else going on aside from the cold." The Doctor asked, hands already moving to pull out her sonic from her jacket.

You nodded against the pillows, eyes closing as you listened to her start to scan you with the sonic.

"Hmm, looks like your running a low grade fever, somewhat dehydrated. Do you have a headache? Never mind. You can answer that later." The Doctor rambled for a minute and then leaned over you and tucked you in.

"Stay here. The TARDIS will absolutely alert me if you even think of getting up." The Doctor ordered and you opened your eyes to stare up at her.

"Of course, Doc. I'll always listen to you." You mumbled out and smiled at the grin that appeared on her face.

The Doctor pressed a kiss to her hand and then pressed her hand onto your forehead. "I'll be right back, okay kiddo?"

~

The Doctor was surprised to see Graham and Dan arguing over what soup was the best for a sick person and watched them from the door way for a minute. "You two are acting like two dad's right now."

Graham looked over, shaking his head softly. "Grace usually made Ryan soup when he didn't feel good, so I wanted to make the same one for the kid and well-"

"I'm forty-two! I'm not nearly old enough to be a dad!" Dan complained and The Doctor grinned.

"Old enough to be their dad. Graham, why don't you make Grace's soup recipe and Dan, you can help me find a tray." The Doctor delegated quickly, kneeling down to dig through a cabinet to find said tray.

"Why are we looking for a tray?" Dan asked, immediately kneeling next to her to help her.

"I don't want them to eat alone, so I'll go and eat with them." The Doctor said.

"We could all sit and eat together? Might help them feel a bit better, not being cooped up in a room with just you." Graham pointed out, starting on grabbing supplies for the soup.

"You all could get sick and its an Earth common cold. I don't want to have an entire ship of patients." The Doctor said, looking over at Graham.

Dan was still digging through the cupboard when Yaz entered the room. She leaned on the door frame as she watched the older people move around the kitchen. "Soup for dinner?"

Graham turned to look over at her. "Yeah, Grace used to make this for Ryan."

[avpdvoidspace]

Since you've mentioned a couple of times having comorbid OCPD, would you mind explaining more about the effect that disorder has on you? Out of every PD, it's the one I never find people talking about. Due to that, and the diagnostic criteria itself being (as ever) exasperatingly superficial and vague, It's hard to know where to even look for information about it..!

Sure. I agree that it's very difficult to find information about ocpd online. I guess I could categorize my experience with ocpd into three categories: things that are absolutely recognized symptoms of ocpd, things that overlap with other obsessive compulsive spectrum disorders (like things more traditionally thought of as OCD symptoms), and things that I have to assume come from ocpd because they seem to but I don't know if they're universal because I don't see other people talking about having ocpd. So in terms of things that are definitely ocpd experiences: I really don't feel safe or comfortable in situations I don't have at least some control over. I need to control my space, my food, who is around me, etc to feel safe. This also applies to my time and schedule. I get very agitated when it's interrupted, even if I don't show it. I tend to plan my day's activities pretty rigidly and it stresses me out when I'm not able to follow through. I also have very rigid ways I like to do things, and it stresses me out if I have to do something with someone else's method or if someone in my apartment does something differently to how I would do it, especially things like eating without washing hands first, not taking shoes off before coming in, etc. I try to keep this kind of thing in check because I don't want to be controlling or obnoxious, but it causes me a lot of stress internally. This has been very difficult when I've had a job and I'm being told to do things a particular way but it's not MY way. It's also difficult when I'm intentionally trying to push myself to try a different method for, say, drawing something. Even though I'm making the choice, I'm breaking my method and it feels extremely Wrong. The next category is overlap with other obsessive compulsive spectrum disorders. I definitely get intrusive thoughts and the anxiety inducing spiral of 'something bad will happen if I don't have the tv volume set to an odd number' and 'I feel compelled to make sure my foot touches to the floor in a very certain way right now for Reasons'. I also have health anxiety that gets worse if I try to engage in reassurance seeking behavior (but this only started after I got diagnosed with a chronic illness, so it could be a combination of ocpd and trauma). But you can apply the mechanics of health anxiety to other things that pop into my head to frighten me with no basis in reality that start the reassurance seeking/me becoming more convinced the terrible thing is true cycle. Then the third category, which is random things I think are ocpd but who knows because there aren't a lot of other people out there talking about their personal experiences with it: I like recording things. Every day, I write the weather conditions down in a notebook. I also have very rigid records of my drawing time and draw with a stopwatch going to make sure I'm keeping track and write everything in a notepad++ file like so

I get extremely stressed out if anything gets in the way of this process! You could say my life kind of revolves around this actually. I've actually drawn at least an hour a day for about a decade (knock on wood...), and I track it every day. In general, I have a lot of fun creating methods and systems to follow rigidly. It's like a game even. Maybe why I like playing games with a lot of organization/time management... Love giving myself a list of tasks and completing them. Speaking of games, I love Pokemon Legends Arceus because it is essentially a checklist simulator. Also, I experience something similar to special interests but maybe not exactly the same. I wouldn't say hyperfixations either because they're not fleeting. They're very enduring. I wish I could explain more about how they're unique from either special interests (in the autistic meaning of the phrase) and hyperfixations (like with ADHD), but it's kind of hard to explain without feeling like I'm explaining it poorly. And last, something that could go in either this category or the second because it's something I've heard people diagnosed with OCD talk about experiencing is I have a weird thing with my memory where my visual/auditory memory are weirdly strongly connected. So if I'm listening to something while drawing, if I listen to it again, I can 'see' what I was drawing at the time. If I look at the drawing, I'll remember the part of the audiobook or whatever I was listening to. It's to the point that if I was listening to an audiobook while playing a certain video game, hearing the audiobook again will make me crave playing the video game really intensely! It's like I can see exactly where I was in the game as if I was playing it right now. Anyway, I hope that was helpful. I tried to include everything I could think of. My life is very rigid, but I guess if there's one more thing I could say about that, it's that the rigidity excites me and feels like it lights up my brain with feel-good chemicals. I think having ocpd is like a combination of extreme anxiety and the ability to create fun engaging activities all by myself and with very few resources.