#but not sure how else i could have explained my symptoms to get them to understand
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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
#i have to sleep a lot. i’m at the point where functioning requires 8 hours of sleep if not more#I should probably be getting 10+ but i’m a student and i work so 8 is the minimum. but then also getting ready for bed is a whole process s#the whole thing can take 10-12 hours depending how much im sleeping. just to make sure i can do anything#that is time in my day i cannot use for anything else. it’s not ‘oh but i can push through it’ because i can’t without spending the next da#lightheaded and nauseous and vaguely dizzy and with such intense brain fog I can’t think with my fatigue so bad i genuinely don’t know how#get myself to work a lot of days. my abled peers don’t have to deal with this at all. they have unlimited study time if they want to#and yeah it is a choice i’m making that’s true i could just not do. except i would lose my job and fail out of college because i would not#be able to get to classes or do my homework or think. but being told ‘but you are making choices about your life’ when i have lost so much#of what i used to be able to do because i am spiralling down and continuing to get worse is so.#literally last year i would wake up at 6:30 and then go to school till 3 and then go to my internship until 10 and get home at 11 and be in#bed anywhere from midnight to two in the morning and then wake up the next day and do it all again. i graduated with a 3.9 gpa and made it#into my top college while dealing with my cancer symptoms and then the two surgeries about it#but now i lose half my day to just making sure i can get out of bed. i can’t go anywhere because my body is physically too exhausted#any extra time goes into doing homework or occasionally time to myself#not decimating my health by doing minimum body care responsibilities isn’t freeing. occasionally i have a good day which is freeing but tha#usually goes into just. other things outside class or work or eating. I don’t go do something for myself or go do something fun on good day#because I still can’t. good days just mean i don’t want to lie down on the pavement when i’m going somewhere#I just. I don’t magically have control over my life because i try to get enough sleep. i lose half my day to doing that and ultimately it’s#just a bodily function that would have to happen anyway#this is a vent post im just having a really hard time right now because it feels like im in exponential decline. it was nowhere near this#bad last semester. my grades are tanking and i have no free time because anything outside of sleep is either work or school#vent tw#yall can rb this just ignore my tags completely#disability#chronically ill#i keep trying to explain to people how pots works because that’s all logical but there’s no way to explain what it’s doing to my body or ho#i feel all the time. the last time i felt this bad was when i had a bad flu or immediately after surgeries because i don’t react well to#anesthesia and always come out of them feeling like shit. and now i just feel like this all the time and it’s only getting worse#I can’t even stay up late anymore because my body feels like it isn’t counting the sleep even if I get 8 hours#I can deal if I have a free day the day after but that just leaves Friday and Saturday nights and I usually still have to do homework
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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
#//juri speaks#feeling big “[7th guest ghost voice] i want my mommyyyyy” energy lately#even though i know she's of the opinion that i just need to eat more vegetables#i want an adultier adult to help me make decisions and help me be normal#and on god do i want someone who can help me articulate things to a doctor#bc i always leave feeling like they have not focused on what i thought was the larger problem#but not sure how else i could have explained my symptoms to get them to understand#and i have not one but TWO prescriptions im supposed to try for a few weeks#and i havent even gone to pick them up yet and ive been so anxious all day i wanna cry#(i also wanna cry bc i am super nauseous again today and could hardly eat any lunch#which was annoying bc it was kind of pricey and i thought safe food being non-dairy)#anyway. would anyone like to trade bodies with me for a while?#i would love to feel normal for a bit. not like a stressed rabbit.
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#long tags sorry#rlly suspecting i have a specific disorder bc thats the closest thing ive ever seen that could explain whats wrong w me in a way that makes#sense but im also like. idk thats a disorder n am i. sick enough to qualify. also ive always been the type of person to assume i have somth#/self diagnose n i think ppl have this opinion on me that i do this overly.#which i dont blame them for its just im trying to find answers. my therapist has a very strange approach so she doesnt rlly tell me what#she thinks i have unless she thinks it would help#but in the case of this disorder (or whatever it is) i rlly need help for it so i think it might help to get diagnosed idk.#i dont wanna bring it up to her though. its so embarrassing#like. that sounds so stupid to say but its the kind of disorder where shed be like why would you ever think you have that. which idk im#assuming a lot since she was very nice about me bringing up the possibility of a CDD which she agreed i probs have#which was so embarrassing i split an alter over it actually.#but like anyway. for real this is kind of a disorder that nobody talks about bc of its nature i suppose or somth idk.#so i didnt consider it before + one of the symptoms is misunderstood so i didnt think i could have it but actually um.#im still thinking on it like im not rlly sure. i just want help so im describing to her whats wrong so she can help somehow#but its getting nowhere she has no idea on how to help me like.#last session she said are you still having feelings of alienation n i said yea that never leaves n shes like u wanna try n work on that n i#said actually lets focus on somth else (we started several sessions on somth specific actually) for now bc everytime we talk about it#it actually reinforces the feeling. n doesnt help and i feel rlly unhelpable about this n lost n idk what to do. n she was like ok#lorisys
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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.
#acotar#acotar fandom#acosf#azriel shadowsinger#a court of silver flames#a court of mist and fury#azriel#azriel x reader#azriel angst#azriel imagine#azriel acomaf#azriel acotar#azriel spymaster#rhysand#cassian#morrigan#feyre#elain
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Hi, I have some questions regarding confusion over a certain topic. First off, I have a character with a severe scarring on the upper right side of their body. I've heard in some tumblr ppsts that such appearance shouldn't be fetished. Then I stumbled across some posts, mentioning how the character can be described as 'pretty with it'.
For sure, I'm trying my best to normalize the looks. Because I have a love interest set up for them and while they don't mind the looks, I feel confused on how to convey their appreciation for the character's looks even with the scarring. They like the character as they are and stuff.
Sorry if this is a lot, I tend to get confused on how to handle such scenarios. And this sort of varying opinions is making me go '???'.
It's okay if you take your time to answer! Have a good day ahead of ya!
Hey!
"Fetishization of a disability" and "thinking that a disabled person is pretty" are two very different things. Despite the somewhat similar sound, they're not connected by much.
In the context of scars, fetishization would be what I would call the "Zuko situation" (yes, I love ATLA as much as the next guy, let me explain) - the scar isn't really a scar, it's more make-up than anything else. It's just the color that changes, it's all sharp edges and intricate shapes, the facial structure stays the exact same. There's no physical symptoms. Essentially, it's permanent body paint.
It fetishizes a disability by making it inaccurate, sometimes almost mystical. You don't see anyone fetishizing how real people with facial burns look like because they only like the idea of it. They don't care for us; they don't care for Face Equality or why we are offended by "villain with scar #32482". It's just a fun splotch of color to add to your OC when you're out of ideas.
Another aspect of fetishization is the "a scar is the worst thing in the whole world", the tragedy porn. It's using a disability for cheap drama. Again; it's inaccurate and exploitative. I don't see writers excited to depict my "coming to terms with my facial difference as a teenager, and eventually being proud of it" experience because where's the shock value and pity points? Fetishization, again, is about liking the idea of it, not the real thing.
Describing your character as beautiful, well, isn't any of that.
The point that I tried to make on that post was that a scar is often considered inherently ugly. That it's a stain on someone's beauty, that it would be better if it wasn't there.
"Brown beautiful eyes, thick facial hair, strong cheekbones - he managed to be irresistibly handsome even with that nasty scar going across his nose."
This sucks. It's as if the character's beauty and their disability are contradictory forces that have to fight each other. But in reality, scars and any other visible disabilities are neutral. If the character is pretty, their scar is pretty too. It's a part of them, so how could it not be?
"She was a cute girl; her pastel pink, thinly braided hair framed her face, defying gravity by curling towards her mouth. The burned skin on her lips shifted as she smiled, revealing a tooth gap. She played with her equally pink 'white' cane, holding it between the two fingers she had on her right hand, bopping it against the ground to the rhythm of the song."
This, on the other hand, just states her disability as a part of her person. It's nothing weird or shocking, she's pretty, has a burn on her face, she's blind, she's missing some fingers, she's enjoying the music - it's almost boring when compared to the usual "scar introduction". There's no "even with her horribly burnt face", no "if only she wasn't scarred she would be beautiful", no "poor thing, lost her fingers in a horrific fire" - instead, she is beautiful, and she has scars, and she is having fun. That's it.
This is my best shot at explaining the difference between "fetishization" and "yeah they're pretty :-)" ft. my questionable writing - I hope this makes sense.
I definitely took my time to answer, sorry about that. Thank you for your ask,
mod Sasza
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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.
#awfc#leah williamson#woso#woso fanfics#woso one shot#woso imagine#leah williamson x y/n#leah williamson imagine#leah williamson x reader#leah williamson x you#woso x reader#woso community#woso soccer#woso couples#woso blurbs
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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.
#abusers#origins of abuse#how to end abuse#abuser excuses#psychological abuse#child abuse#emotional abuse
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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.
#reader insert#the rookie#lucy chen#lucy chen x reader#lucy chen imagine#lucy chen x fem!reader#wlw#sickfic#lucy chen supremacy
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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
#sturniolo x reader#fluff#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo x reader#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo fanfic
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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
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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.
#daemon targaryen x reader#daemon x y/n#daemon targaryen#daemon smut#daemon targaryen smut#daemon targeryen x reader#daemon targeryan#daemon x reader#daemon x you#daemon x oc#daemon targaryen x oc#daemon targaryen x female reader#hotd#hotd fanfic#asoif fanfic#asoiaf#asoif/got#divine intuition series
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Pain Relieving Hugs
Summary: Reader is AFAB but using they/them pronouns (most of fic is in 2nd person) and has really bad periods. Reader has been seeing Xilonen but it's not official yet. This fic is a bit personal to my sufferings with my period over the last few months.
Warnings: talks of periods, it gets detailed when describing how the cramps hurt, painkillers not working, symptoms associated with periods, atypical symptoms according to google but i deal with them every month so ???, swearing, R is insecure about having rough periods. Originally the pronouns were going to be she/they in the fic but wasn't sure how well that translates, so... I wrote this for me😅
Fic under the cut, don't repost my stuff on other platforms, i have ao3.
Originally you thought you had over-done it when helping Kinich with some deliveries. Maybe Ajaw had been right about you dragging him down, affecting his efficiency. At least over-doing it would explain why you felt so worn out when you tried to get out of bed the next day.
Maybe you had eaten something that didn't agree with you. Maybe that was the reason why you could feel cramps in your abdomen, front, back, sides... like you were being stabbed from all angles with sharp weapons that Xilonen had crafted. She could make anything anyone wanted as long as they filled out the form well enough for her to understand.
It wasn't food you ate, or just regular over-doing it working. It was your period's warning signs. Signs that you began to recognise before it was too late. Unfortunately, nobody else had recognised them. Not even the woman you were seeing, whose workshop you would often visit if she wasn't sunbathing up a tree or napping somewhere.
The stabbing pains weren't extinguished by any of your attempts for painkillers. You were trying to be careful, but the first few days were always hell, and your only other option was what Chuychu had suggested as a remedy. It was better than nothing, but you forgot to pick up the remedy she suggested.
"Well, fuck me I guess..." you grumbled, leaning your arms on the table to try and block out the aches. The world was getting fuzzy, but you needed to try eat something. You were usually at Xilonen's workshop by now, but walking hurt horridly, barely being able to focus on your surroundings.
The food you managed to find was tasteless, your stomach too busy cramping to want to digest any of it, and your tiredness made it even more bland. The shower you had taken before it all got worse was the only refuge, not getting too lightheaded this time at least.
Sobs tried to claw their way up your throat, but you choked them down with the closest glass of water in reach. The chalky taste almost choking you.
Enough was enough. Wobbling like a baby deer, you forced yourself to walk back to your room, curling up under the blankets, regardless of the thin layer of sweat coating your skin, or how cold your hands felt against you as you held yourself to try self-soothe.
///
Meanwhile, Xilonen was stuck in her workshop. Her attempt to wrap up everyone's commissions for the day had been usurped by the Pyro Archon. Her Archon had broken her sunglasses again and wanted a new pair as soon as possible.
Mavuika had gone from shouting outside of her workshop for her, to trying to discuss intricate details that were unnecessary for anything but the paperwork Xilonen required regular customers to fill out. Things for the Archon were a little different however... Mavuika loved to talk through her ideas, how the shape could be altered a bit, the frame bridge of the sunglasses could be adjusted a little... fine, fine, fine. On the condition that the archon didn't ruin them two days later. Or the bike that was constantly being revised and took her three months to build...
"Where's your personal peacemaker anyway?" Mavuika enquired playfully, a smirk on her lips as she glanced around the workshop, wondering if Xilonen had hidden you somewhere.
"Uh, what? My personal what-now? Oh, because they stopped us arguing last time?" Xilonen frowned, recalling you had said she would see you tomorrow, yesterday, which was today, "honestly, I have no idea. They're usually here by now."
"Are they now?" Mavuika raised an eyebrow, smirking until Xilonen huffed.
"Do you want your sunglasses fixing or not, Mavuika? Because teasing me about my- the person I'm seeing isn't helping."
"You two aren't official yet?" Mavuika's curiosity spoke for itself, even as Xilonen distracted herself by looking at blueprints, the furnace, anything but to tell her archon about her relationship. "What happened?"
"They just thought that they overdid it yesterday when they were helping Kinich. Ajaw can be too much with them too. They'd usually be here by now..." Xilonen confessed, not usually one to want her stress to eat away at her. Maybe it was different with her when it came to you.
"How much work do you have left today?"
"Besides your sunglasses, nothing that can't be done tomorrow." Taking one glance at her comissioned work, she sighed, giving Mavuika a pointed look.
"Fine... go check on your lover. Ask them out and I'll forgive you for delaying my sunglasses until tomorrow."
"You're lucky you're the Archon." Xilonen gave rolled her eyes at Mavuika's teasing teasing, heading out of her workshop and making a beeline for where you lived.
///
The curtains of your house were still shut, and the delivery of fruit and vegetables that she could only assume was from Ifa was untouched on your doorstep.
Her knuckles against the door produced no sign of life, and kicking your door in wasn't exactly the greatest plan... but she could make you a new door, if she needed to.
Scouring her surroundings, Xilonen spotted the plants on your porch, unlike her own, they were budding with life. Nudging each pot carefully, she eventually found the key to your front door.
An empty glass and a plate covered in crumbs laid in the kitchen, abandoned. From what she could tell, the chair had fallen back from someone standing up, but there was no sign of you so far.
She knew where you slept, she had been there a few times, but you two had only made out a few times there. Never any further, especially when there was a lack of official titles for the relationship so far.
The door stood ajar, the curtains closed, and a blanket was half on the floor. Xilonen couldn't help the sigh that escaped her lips, spotting you curled up under another blanket, fast asleep.
Her footsteps quiet on the floor, Xilonen gently stroked your face, smiling as you began to stir with a whine.
"Mm... Xilonen?" your eyes barely opened, looking up at her tiredly as a tired smile crossed your face.
"How are you feeling?" the geo vision holder enquired, her hand resting on your forehead, noticing how warm you felt, "are you sick? Your forehead feels warm."
"No. I, ugh, I feel like a blood bath... and like my insides are being churned up in a bread mixer." You immediately grimaced, trying to hide under the blanket but any and all movements felt like you were being stabbed in the abdomen. "Sorry, that's so... too much information. You can go, I'll be fine."
"Is it usually this bad?" Xilonen shook her head, sitting on the edge of the bed to coax you out of the blanket.
"Usual painkiller remedies stopped working. Forgot to pick up a new one to try out... I'm sorry, this is all really gross. I didn't want you to see me like this." You fought back tears of frustration, trying to fight back the thoughts in your head, telling you that you had ruined everything. You really liked Xilonen, but being reduced to this once a month? You didn't blame her if she wanted to leave and not come back.
"Hey, it's okay. You're not gross, you just have really bad periods, onesleave you in bed all day." Xilonen replied, stroking your face as you looked at her with watery eyes.
"You came here during your work hours?"
"Well, you got me out of listening to Mavuika's sunglasses specifications again. Plus, I was worried about you. She noticed, and said her sunglasses could wait, so I made my way here." Xilonen explained, shuffling down to lay on the bed with you after removing her vision necklace so you'd both be more comfortable.
Burying your face in her chest, you held onto Xilonen to absorb her comfort, feeling her arms around you, holding you close. A soft rumble underneath you led to your eyes flickering, burying your face further into Xilonen as she purred, snuggling her face into the crown of your head.
"Do you want me to make you some food? It might help you feel better..." Xilonen proposed after a while, feeling you let out a soft sigh against her skin, "I brought in the fruit and vegetables that Ifa left on your doorstep."
"Okay, but can we stay like this a bit longer? You're hot, and you smell really nice." You sneakily moved your head up to press a kiss to her jaw, unable to reach her cheek.
"Oh, uh, thank you, sweetheart." Xilonen flustered, trying to fight against how her tail swept side to side, displaying how happy she was feeling.
"Was that too much?" you asked after a while, your eyes fluttering open to try gauge how Xilonen felt at your affection.
"No, no, it was fine, I like you a lot so, I'm not opposed to this. Especially these naps, it was about time for me to have one anyway. So having one with you, my- having one with you, is nice." Xilonen corrected herself quickly, a small smile creeping onto your face, but slightly moving yourself wiped it away with a pained grimace. Your body just had to remind you of your cramping.
"You can call me what you want, as long as it's not derogatory. Moving hurts, can we stay like this a bit longer?" your request was granted, as Xilonen answered by snuggling you closer, closing her eyes to go back to sleep. She'd like to call you hers, she thinks. But that conversation can wait a little longer, since it's time for a nap...
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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.
#south park#sp x reader#south park x reader#sp fandom#stan marsh x reader#kyle broflovski x reader#eric cartman x reader#kenny mccormick x reader#platonic south park x reader#platonic sp x reader#sp headcanons#pineappleciders
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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.
#pierre gasly imagine#pierre gasly × reader#pierre gasly fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#pierre gasly fluff
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Can't sleep. Time for me to elaborate on this
Notes:
-This is a copy and pasted ramble from discord with some tweaks now that I'm further into the game. This was originally written when I have only just started the third semester arc, and even now, I haven't finished the game. So no spoilers in the reposts or comments please :(! If you want a good idea of where I am, then I've only just started the actual change of heart mission
-The characters discussed in this ramble are high schoolers and below the age of 20. I don't know how old they are in strikers or in any other spin off, and I do not plan on playing them. So please do not leave any gross comments about them, I will only block you. (If you're familiar with my rgu rambles then this isn't anything like them,, I'm just annoying and scaring away half the fandom)
-Warning for a lot of ableism in the school system and beyond
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Ok so its like. How ableism in school effects people in different ways and how to cope with it. This is semi headcanony? I don't know how bonkers of a statement it is? Basically its like Ryuji being mentally + physically disabled and constantly trying to fight for the best. Makoto is mentally disabled and masks for adults approval and just accepts how things are. Sumire could VERY easily be read as physically disabled I don't think I need to explain it that much. Neither of the phantom thieves fit into society in some way or another but with those three its a much more of a like. They will never fit in kind of thing.
Something that stands out to me the most is how Makoto is the only one who understands Ryujis "dumb moments".
(Sorry for the weird combination of video and screenshots. Tumblr is weird)
I don't reallyyyyyyyyyyy read it as "Makoto is smarter than everyone else which is how she even begins to get him". Its more like she actually understands. She gets it.
Like lets be for eel. Makoto was basically pressured into working super hard. Theres no way she struggles with it that is only and simply in the "everyone wants me to appeal to their expectations" way.
She is smart but I feel like her studying hard is something she forces herself to do with the weight of ableism on her shoulders, which only makes it harder. I'm not sure if I'm making sense???? but Ryuji and Makoto can easily be read as having adhd. Ryuji as the typical LOL RANDOM 🤪 boy that inconveniences everyone whos actually really tired and struggling really badly and working as hard as he can. Makoto can be read as "oh, no, she isn't disabled :). She acts normal" when she really is and it pushed to the limits and can't fight against it and create a better school experience for herself because of how everyone just denies it.
Theres also Sae actively trying to make sure Makoto gets the recognition she deserves. Yes, this is because Makoto is a girl in a world where men control everything. But I personally feel like theres also this intersectionality of misogyny and ableism, which only means Makoto has to work even harder and has more weight on her shoulders.
Additionally, adhd is already ignored when it comes to girls having it, because to society, its mainly a boys thing where they jump up and down and run everywhere. Girls aren't thought to have adhd because not only do they have to mask harder to be taken seriously, but also because society ignores other symptoms and just views them as normal or not as much of an inconvenience to them personally and not to the person who actually has the disability.
You can also VERY EASILY add the idea of Makoto being japanese into all of the intersectionality stuff. Mental disorders are even HARDER to get diagnosed when you're colored,, and nobody cares until its too late. East asian readers who live/have lived in east asia are completely free to add on to this and correct me, as I don't know what it would be like when the mass majority of people you're surrounded by everyday are the same race as you, as you wouldn't have to deal with stereotypes or the system being against you (unless I am wrong :<!), but I still feel like this is DEFINITELY worth mentioning
I'm not physically disabled (I suppose? Saying this because of depression aches but they likely don't count) so I can't really be as personal about Ryujis leg and Sumires,,,,,, everything. I feel like Sumire could be read as having an invisible disability thats not taken seriously. Something something internalized ableism something something the school being so hard on her is making everything worse something something chasing to be someone else when in the end it'll never work.
Even with Sumire becoming Kasumi just because she can't imagine living as "her murderer", theres something about living as someone with different privileges and expectations than you. Theres something about not being able to be "as good" as them, especially when everyone thinks you are them. Theres something about having to struggle with something that no one can see. "This is Kasumi, not Sumire. So why is she failing so much?"
Theres also something about Ryujis "perfect world" being focused on his leg healing. Yes, hes a part of the track team again. But they aren't really the focus. Think of characters like Sumires dad, Mika, and Shibusawa. They have character portraits/sprites. While this doesn't 100% mean that they're important, it does make you remember them better. It establishes their personalities better and they're mentioned quite a bit.
Meanwhile, the side characters in Ryujis social links are just known as, well, "the track team" and "the coaches". They do have names, but, please be honest with yourself, do you remember them? And they don't have actual sprites either. Just typical modules.
Meanwhile, when you go up and talk to Ryuji, Akira/Ren/The Protagonist doesn't ask about the team or anything. Its about Ryujis leg (and also how they met I guess which is quite romantic but thats not relevant). And its normal to wish your disability wasn't there at all. I wish so everyday. Its a very common experience, especially when your disability is a roadblock to achieving your dreams.
It kind of makes me think of Maruki as........kind of ableist? At least in the context of this headcanon. Because all he is doing is encouraging Sumire and Ryuji to conform into an identity that they'll never truly be, which only hurts them more in the end.
(If any physically disabled readers than to add onto this or correct something then feel free to! I'd love to hear it :3)
Basically what I'm saying is that these three specifically should come together and kiss. And snuggle. Maybe make out a little. Maybe burn down shujin. I came up with a ship name for them (niijimoyoshizawa) but as you can see, its ass. So theres that.
Even if you don't end up shipping them,, then I hope you imagine them being sweet friends to each other,, or that I've gave you a different perspective on their arcs
#persona#persona 5#persona 5 royal#p5#p5r#p5 royal#makoto niijima#ryuji sakamoto#sumire yoshizawa#makoto nijima#kasumi yoshizawa#p5 spoilers#p5r spoilers#p5 royal spoilers#rambles#disabled headcanon#makoto x ryuji x sumire#if you notice any typos no you don't
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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
#jackson’s diary#jacksons diary#ao3#proshipping#dexer#fandom discourse#will probably regret making this post by tmrw morning but yk thats future me’s problem#again hopefully i explained this ok i’m pretty sure it was quite rambly
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