#but there’s so much that like. does not know or care about the doctor at all

[captain-huggy-bear]

Morning Sickness

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of sex in the past, pregnancy, etc.

Summary: Quinn is getting increasingly worried about you as you're sick every morning and every evening, you're adamant that you're fine. Turns out you're right in a way.

Notes: Thanks to the person who sent this idea in :)

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)

Writing Masterlist

It starts around a month after your honeymoon. Every single morning Quinn wakes to the sound of you throwing up and every single night he holds your hair back as you're sick over the toilet.

You pass it off as a bad stomach bug or anxiety, something different every time but Quinn doesn't believe you nor does he like what's happening. He's had many health scares with you; the chest infection that led to you being hospitalised after you nearly passed out at work being a prime example. As a result, he knows better than to assume that when you say you're fine, you're actually fine. Instead he sits with a heavy buzz of anxiety in his chest, a fear that something is seriously wrong but not knowing what and not knowing how best to convince you to get a check up and see the doctor about it. You’re stubborn to a fault. 

It's another one of those evenings where he's happily curled around in bed, blankets tucked in around both of you. You're in his arms, back to his chest, legs twisted together so that any movement jars the other, but you're so used to it at this point that sleeping apart is more difficult and less restful than navigating the tangled mass of limbs that the two of you become each night.

When you try to slip out of his arms he's awake like a shot, blinking through bleary eyes while you push his arms off you so that you can get up. Quinn lets you go, an instant release but he's quick to follow, footsteps padding on the carpet after you towards the bright light of the bathroom. Never once considering rolling over and going back to sleep.

"You okay, baby?" You're leaning over the sink, taking deep breaths, cheeks puffing out as you try your very best to not be sick again, nausea roiling through you. You’re so fed up of being sick, it’s become a routine that’s led to you being careful about what foods you eat in the morning and evening, learning what is the worst to throw up and what’s the least offensive thing to throw up.

All you can do is shake your head frantically before you're rushing to the toilet, knees hitting the floor with a loud thud as you lean over the toilet bowl to be sick. Quinn winces at the sound of your knees impacting tile and he's beside you in an instant, hands reaching for your hair to pull it back and out of your face so you don't have to worry about throwing up in your own hair.

"Oh, baby...just let it out..." A warm, free hand landing on your back, rubbing soothing circles as he feels the way your body jerks with each bout of sickness, your muscles contracting and relaxing each time. 

You’re crying, he can hear it, the way you whimper and whine because this is the worst and you’re fed up with being so violently sick…It only increases his worry because this has been going on for too long and it just doesn’t seem to be getting any better. 

He stays beside you, holding your hair and rubbing your back until you’re no longer vomiting. When you stop, cheek resting against the toilet seat in exhaustion he’s up and reaching for a glass to fill with water for you.

“Here, baby, have some water…” You take a mouthful only to spit it out in the toilet in an attempt to get the taste of vomit from your mouth, before downing the whole glass. It doesn’t really help much.

“I hate this…” You groan out, feeling silly because it’s not even like you feel ill most of the time, you just keep getting these random bouts of sickness in the mornings and evenings. Quinn shouldn’t be as worried as you know he is…it’s probably all in your head, maybe you’ve created a Pavolvian response to the morning and night time where your body expects to be sick, so you are?

“I know, baby…” Quinn runs a hand over your hair, pushing a few strands out of your face and behind your ear, he’s gentle about it, long fingers gingerly caressing your skin like he’s worried you’ll break, “You need to visit a doctor, baby.”

“It’s probably nothing, Quinn…I’ve just eaten something or have some sort of bug or something…” You don’t want to go to the doctors, you’re certain this will blow over soon, that it’s nothing serious and you hate the idea of taking more time off for it even as your husband looks at you like you might be the most stubborn human being on earth. 

“For weeks?”

“Quinn…” You sigh out his name because you don’t want to argue, because you’re tired. All you want is to go back to bed, curl up in his arms and get what little sleep you can before you have to go to work in the morning.

He must see how tired you are because whatever fight he had seems to leave his body, shoulders slumping, head nodding to himself like he’s made a decision in his mind to put this down for the moment even if he wants to keep going, repeat himself until you give in.

“Okay…okay, let’s get you to bed at least…” He gives up arguing because you’re so tired and have to be up at 6am for work. It’s bad enough you're not feeling well, let alone that you have to still teach like this, adding exhaustion to the mix is just a bad idea. He’ll keep pushing until you go to the doctors, but right now? Right now he can see you're tired and sleep is probably better for you than arguing at 1am. 

Quinn helps you to your feet, your hands resting in his much larger ones while he pulls you up. He keeps both hands on your hips the whole time as the two of you waddle your way back to bed, there’s part of him that worries you might fall or faint on the way back to bed, hands firmly gripping you just in case. 

He curls around you once you're both back under the covers, almost protective like he’s trying to shield you from some unseen threat and you nestle back into him, resting your head on the arm underneath you. 

The early morning throw up session had you completely wiped hours later, it really shouldn’t have been a surprise that you felt dizzy as the day went on. Even more so because food was just not enticing you and you had skipped lunch when your sandwich made you feel queasy just looking at it. Each lesson felt harder and harder to teach and your last lesson of the day had your head reeling. It really shouldn’t have come as a surprise with how dizzy you felt, how lightheaded you were, that you fainted completely in front of your students. Thankfully, you had felt it coming on, having lowered yourself to the ground mere seconds before it happened.

To give them their dues, your students who could have used that as an opportunity to cause a mess, do whatever they wanted and generally cause chaos, actually tried to help. They were so concerned for you that they got another member of staff to come help, David, your favourite trouble making hockey fan, put his rolled up Canucks hoodie underneath your head and Stacy checked you were still breathing. The fainting spell didn’t last long, within a minute or so you were back to consciousness and trying to sit up, staff and students trying to force you to lay back down. 

It’s Laura, the English teacher next door, who grabs your phone and calls your emergency contact, Quinn…even as you protest and tell her not to bother him, that you’re fine. All your protests go ignored by the forty year old, who had become something of a mentor and parental figure during your time at the school.

“Hi Quinn, sorry, it’s Laura from Y/N’s school?” You can’t quite tell what Quinn says on the other line, but you’re sure it’s along the lines of ‘what’s wrong?’ in a panicked tone because no one ever used your phone. You hate worrying him, he has so much on his shoulders already, so much weight there from the team, the season, his brothers…

“She’s fainted, do you think you could come get her? It’s the end of the school day anyway but I don’t think she should be driving home…thanks, Quinn.” 

You groan at her, tempted to tell her off for calling him against your wishes but you know she means well…you also know there’s absolutely no chance you’re getting away with avoiding the doctors now. In fact you wouldn’t be surprised if he drove you straight to the doctor's office after coming to get you…still, maybe you should see a doctor, what with throwing up all the time…and now fainting? 

Laura won’t even let you get up from your spot on the floor, packing your things away for you, getting your students to chill for the last 10 minutes of the day and waiting until Quinn arrives. You know she’s worried you’ll faint again, but it feels ridiculous, sitting on a cold, dirty classroom floor waiting for your husband to come get you.

“Hey, baby…” The way he stands in the doorway to your classroom when he finally arrives makes you want to cry. It’s like he’s scared you’re going to faint again, a sense of hesitancy and caution in his body language that you hate because Quinn is never like that around you. 

“Please don’t…don’t be scared of me, right now…” You feel like crying, wetness starting to fill your eyes and your voice coming out choked. You’re not even sure why you’re so emotional about him looking like that when Quinn’s always worried about you, it’s not a new development. He cares so he worries. 

“Hey, hey, I’m not scared of you…I’m worried, baby.” He’s crossing the space between you as quickly as possible, crouching down next to you with care, hands reaching for your face gently to rub his fingers across your cheeks to try and calm you down.

“I’m sorry…I don’t mean to be a bother…” Your eyes are so watery that Quinn’s face is a blurry mess, but even then you wouldn’t be able to mistake the serious set of his brow, the way his jaw clenches, how he always takes your concerns and worries seriously.

“Sweet girl, hey…you’re not a bother. You’re never a chore, okay? But I'm going to need you to accept that we need to go to the doctor's now, okay? I’ve already phoned them, they can see us in forty minutes.” You can’t really deny him, he’s been so patient with you, worried, but not pushing you to go to the doctors too much and you know he’s right…something’s not normal right now and you need to get checked out.

“Okay…” The smile he gives you is radiant, relief filled and bright like your answer is enough to make his day. It makes it worth it.

“Atta girl, right, let’s get you up off this floor, okay?” 

You nod at him, reaching for his outstretched hands and letting him grip yours tightly, your wedding rings gleaming and new under the fluorescence of the classroom lights. As Quinn stands he pulls you with him, helping you to your feet and holding you steady when you get a bit of a headrush from the sudden upright position.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, i’m good,” He doesn’t quite look like he believes you, “I promise, i’ll let you know if i’m not.”

He’s got an eye on you the entire way to his car, always watching in case you suddenly faint or trip or take a dive to the ground. You don’t, your dizzy spell has passed and now you just feel emotional and embarrassed about the whole thing. 

As is routine by now Quinn opens the car door for you and buckles your seatbelt, making sure it rests comfortably against you and isn’t digging into you at all. He goes a step further than normal though, reaching into the backseat to grab a blanket he keeps there for when you get cold, laying it over your lap and tucking it under your thighs like he’s worried you’ll get cold on the drive to the doctors. 

Quinn leans forward into the car, pressing a kiss to your forehead gently causing you to close your eyes, letting out a happy sigh. He lingers slightly, hand smoothing down some of your fly away hairs before he shuts the passenger side door and gets into the driver's seat. 

There’s a heavy silence that settles over the two of you while Quinn starts the drive to the doctor’s office. It’s a silence that screams that Quinn has things he wants to say, words he’s holding inside him right now and you wait patiently for him to break. 

It doesn’t take long, a few minutes pass before he’s watching you from the corner of his eye, “You need to start trusting me to handle knowing when something is wrong…” He sighs out at you, and you try not to cut him off, biting on your lip to force yourself to listen until he’s said what he needs to say. “I know you’re scared of being a burden and putting more stress on me, but, baby…I’m your husband. I need to know. I want to know. My job is to support you. I can’t do that if you’re not letting me in…” He reaches a hand across to squeeze your leg, an attempt to reassure you that he’s not mad, but that he wants you to trust him more and you get it…you do. You’ve been so reluctant to put any more stress on him, but here’s Quinn demanding that you do, telling you he wants to know when things aren’t quite right.

“I just…you have all this pressure on you and I don’t want to add to that.”

“Baby, the only stress you’re giving me is when you don’t let me help you…I need you to promise me you’re going to start relying on me more, please?” He can’t take it anymore. The way you try to hide how you’re doing, try to take all that onto yourself so that he doesn't get any of the pressure. You’re the only pressure he wants, fuck hockey, fuck the season, but he needs to know what’s wrong with you so he can fix it, so he can help you.

You reach for his hand on your leg, twisting your fingers in his and holding his hand tight, watching him glance at you out of the corner of his eye, focusing on the road for the most part. 

“I promise.” 

Quinn’s shoulders drop in relief, his need to support and protect you, to look after you already feeling better now that you’ve promised you’ll actually communicate with him properly. He loves you, but your fear of being a burden is his least favourite thing about you. He hates that people have made you feel like you have to minimise yourself, your problems. Hates that you’ve been trained to be so hyper independent and self reliant. 

“Have you taken a pregnancy test?”

You blink at the doctor like she’s insane because the thought hadn’t even crossed your mind that that was a possibility, that maybe you were pregnant.

“Uh, no…”

“Have you been using protection? Is it possible you’re pregnant?” You try to think back to your last period, late, try to think back to the last time Quinn and yourself had unprotected sex…your honeymoon. So over the moon, so giddy the two of you hadn’t really thought about it, forgoing the usual precautions because you were married now so it didn’t seem like such a big deal. 

You look at Quinn, the two of you sharing a look that says you’re both thinking back to your honeymoon, the two weeks of being absolutely feral for each other that you really didn’t think much about the consequences…well, you did, in a sense. Quinn had had a great time considering what you’d look like pregnant with his child, dirty talk filled with comments about getting you pregnant, but it had all been fantasies, silly in the moment dirty talk, neither of you had really considered (rather stupidly perhaps) that it might become a reality. You hadn’t thought…normally it wasn’t that easy for people and you’d always had concerns about fertility in your family in the past so why would it be that easy for you? 

“It’s…it’s possible.”

“Okay, I want you to go take this test and come back when you’re done. I think you might just be experiencing some really bad first trimester morning sickness.” You take the test offered to you, the little pee cup and pipette too, glad that she wasn’t expecting you to pee directly onto the stick…

“Do you want me to wait outside the door?” Quinn asks as you hesitantly get up, not really wanting to go alone, as silly as it was because all you were about to do was pee into a little cup and put some drops onto a pregnancy test, it wasn’t like you were going to do anything crazy. But, you’d never had to take a pregnancy test before, you’d never had to deal with the reality that you might be pregnant and even if it's with your literal husband it’s still kind of scary...

“Yes, please…” He’s reaching for your hand without any hesitation, guiding you out of the examination room and towards the toilets. 

You hesitate before entering, scared to find out the answer, unsure which you want to be true; that you’re pregnant or that there’s something else causing you to be sick and faint. You want kids, both of you have discussed it time and time again, but you always thought it would be planned, that the two of you would be actively trying when you got pregnant. 

“It’ll be okay, y’know? No matter what. If you’re not pregnant we’ll figure out what’s wrong and if you are? That’s a good thing, we wanted kids, baby.” Quinn can see you’re scared, the way you grip the test tighter, how you seem to stop breathing as you stare at the bathroom door. He’s trying to not get his hopes up, to temper some of the excitement he can feel because he really…fuck, he really hopes you’re pregnant, he’s so ready to be a dad, and it would be an added bonus to know you weren’t seriously ill, just dealing with the first trimester. 

“Yeah, just…wasn’t expecting it to potentially be this soon.”

“I know, baby, but it’ll be okay and mom’ll be over the moon.” You smile at the mention of Ellen, how excited she’ll be…heck Jack and Luke would be ecstatic to be uncles, suddenly things didn’t seem quite so scary when you considered the people around you, how supportive they would be.

“Yeah, she’ll probably scream down the phone…” If you’re pregnant goes unsaid but it’s there, the reality that maybe you’re both starting to get your hopes up for something that isn’t going to happen. 

“Okay…I can do this.”

“You’ve got this, baby…it’ll be okay,” He smiles at you one last time before you disappear into the bathroom.

Your hands shake the entire time you’re in there, completing the test and putting it on the side to wait. You pacing a hole into the floor, back and forth, back and forth as the time ticks down on your phone. In that time you start to get excited, nervous, but excited. The initial shock of potentially being pregnant disappearing in favour of thoughts about what it would be like to finally have your first child with Quinn…how he’d teach them to skate, how Luke and Jack would play with them at the lake house in the summer, how Ellen and Jim would be devoted grandparents, how you’d read them books every night and make your own Christmas traditions… Your nerves now centred on that possibility that you weren’t pregnant, that your hopes might be crushed.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look when the time was up, reaching for the door handle to Quinn pacing outside the door. His head shoots up the moment you open it.

“So?” Quinn looks so expectant, lips bitten and red from all his worrying, waiting for an answer. 

“I…I can’t look, can you check it for me?”

“Uh, yeah, course, baby.” You can tell he’s nervous too, but he steps inside the bathroom, locking it behind the two of you for privacy. You point to where the little, but no less life altering, test rests by the sink. 

You watch him walk over, watch the tension in his shoulders, how he looks at the little test, seems to read the marks, and then again, and again like he’s struggling to process it. You know the answer the moment his shoulders relax, the moment he turns to you with tears in his eyes and a wide smile, so wide across his face. He’s practically grinning, vibrant in the way he is after a won game or how he was at your wedding. The sort of vibrant that changes Quinn, his usually understated calmness wiped out in favour of pure unfiltered joy. 

“We’re…we’re having a baby…” Saying it feels unreal at first, that those two little lines can mean so much, that right now, in your tummy is your baby. The perfect mix of the two of you slowly growing into someone amazing, someone he’s so excited to meet. 

“Yeah?” You can feel your own excitement starting, hearing it is making it real, so fucking real. 

“Yeah, baby!” You’re crying, he’s crying, it’s a mess when you come together in a hug, his arms wrapping tightly around you and lifting you off the floor to spin you around. You’re both crying into each other when his mouth slants over yours for a kiss, one of his hands cupping the back of your head, the other resting gently over your throat.

It’s a kiss that feels monumental, deep and filled with love, so much love that the taste of the salt from your tears does nothing to deter either of you as you cling to each other. The scratch of Quinn’s beard, the silky smoothness of his hair in your fingers, the way you cling to each other, you’ve not felt that happy since your wedding day, since you both finally said I do. It feels like the world has shifted on its axis in the most spectacular of ways and all that worry, all that fear is gone, just like that. 

He’s so fucking relieved, that’s part of it. God, is he excited that you’re pregnant, that he’s going to be a dad, but part of the excitement is relief, that you’re okay, that you’re not seriously ill. You’re just pregnant, just dealing with morning sickness and all the changes associated with growing a baby. 

When you pull apart neither of you go very far, foreheads pressed together, noses nuzzling against each other. His hands still cradle you close to him, his breath warm against your lips.

“We’re going to be parents…you’re going to be a mom…” There’s something about him saying it that makes it feel more real because it feels almost out of body of an experience, to find out you're pregnant when you had no plans to be. 

“Yeah…you’re going to be a dad…”

“Fuck, I love you…” Quinn kisses you again, soft but lingering as a hand comes down to rest against your belly, no sign yet of the bundle of cells that’s growing into a baby, “and I love this little bean too,”

“I love you too, you’re going to be so great, they’re going to love you.”

“They’re going to love us.”

[polgarawolf1]

Right. So this is one of the (too many to go into here) reasons why I actively dislike Brotherhood, because honestly, ex-weapons dealer ex-smuggler Dex really should be too canny/too knowledgable about the rest of the galaxy to fall for Palpatine's propaganda shill and the whole thing with Satine not knowing what's actually going on in the rest of the 'verse during the war just . . . doesn't hold up for me, at least not in the long run, given the people we know she knows and talks to (starting with Padmé, who is personally familiar with entirely too many of the atrocities actually being carried out by the Separatists and doubtlessly hears about an awful lot of the rest of them from Anakin and Ahsoka. Of course, this is also why the whole storyline with Mina Bonteri in SW: TCW shreds my poor little heart, because, you know, ditto. You cannot convince me that the reason why Dooku ends up killing Mina isn't because Padmé outright told her about several of those atrocities and Mina believed her enough to start to look into gathering evidence to present to the Separatist Senate so that Dooku would be removed from his position of power over them. The show makes it seem like it's because Mina's trying to push for peaceful talks as a means to end the war, but I truly and deeply believe it's at least as much because Dooku can sense that Mina no longer trusts him and he knows that Padmé probably spilled the beans about a lot of the sheer awfulness going on that's being actively kept from the majority of the Separatist Senators and their people).

FYI, this is also why I vacillate a lot on Satine's stance during the Clone Wars. On the one hand, yes, she's obviously the only one who gets that the game (the war) is rigged and, thus, that the only proper response is to refuse to engage (i.e., to not to play). On the other hand, we all know that she has to know (if only because of her non-Mandalorian friends, like Padmé and Obi-Wan and Ahsoka and . . . well, the list just goes on) that Mandalore isn't by a long shot the only system or people suffering and that the Separatists are amassing a list of war crimes longer than the spaces between the stars and that neutrality in the face is evil is NOT neutrality (or at least it's not just neutrality). It's complicity. It's tacit approval. It's a complete and utter failure of morality, of caring enough to do something, even if it's just to take a firm stance, one side or the other. It's bloody well choosing the side of the oppressor. And it's not just our own history that has taught us this: the history of the GFFA teaches us this, too, over and over and over again, which means she has no real excuse, at least not once she's learned more about what the war is truly like. The fact that she's right about the war being a rigged game does not save her from being a moral coward about refusing to involve herself and her people with the atrocities being committed during the Clone Wars.

So. I like Satine - or I like the idea of her, anyway. A society cannot survive on war and warriors alone. Logically speaking, there must also be doctors to patch the warriors up and farmers to keep them fed and weavers to keep them clothed and cobblers to keep them shod and merchants to help get necessites to those who need them and craftsmen to make people's homes and different craftsment to make the ships and different different craftsmen to make weapons and and and and - but I can't see her as a truly moral figure to look up to. In a way, Satine is portrayed as just as much as an extremist (if in the completely opposite direction) as Death Watch, and fanaticism (of any flavor) is just not an attractive look, folks. Plus, every time I think about her being the leader of the Council of Neutral Systems I get metaphoric hives, because it reminds me so much of the United States refusing again and again to openly get involved in two very massive and vitally important European wars until there was literally no other choice (especially that second one, and we still managed to frak things up by not addressing the whole Soviet/Stalin issue when we had the chance to do so and could've saved so many people in Eastern Europe so many years of agony and suffering and death). I like her, but she both exhausts me and disappoints me massively.

(There's also a massive missed opportunity for storytelling here, in rgards to what a strong Mandalore and the Jedi Order could have accomplished by working together, in opposition to both the war and the corruption of the Republic Senate, and it absolutely kills me. But that's a totally different lament for a completely different rant/post.)

FYI, Satine's an awful lot like Padmé Amidala for me, because these two otherwise strong and wonderful female characters ultimately both exhaust and disappoint me in regards to the (lack of) morality of their biggest decisions, even though Padmé's failure is selfishness (even though she clearly knows better) and Satine's failure amounts to a sort of moral cowardice that makes me want to grind my teeth.

Absolutely fascinating that Dex is the one to say that Satine’s push for neutrality isn’t going to help things.  The scene isn’t without sympathy for Satine, as well as it mostly elides the point of ignoring what the Separatists are already doing so you don’t really get a deep conversation about it, but Dex has been treated as a voice of wisdom in this book and, so far, it seems to be saying that neutrality in the face of evil isn’t going to help anyone. Obi-Wan’s defense of her is that, well, Mandalore is different because its entire history is based on warfare, it would undo all her hard work, but it ignores Dex��s point here–she’s not just speaking for Mandalore, she’s pushing other systems into neutrality. And we all remember what Nute Gunray (a leader of the Separatists) did on Naboo, they’re going to do the same.  That is what neutrality means to not fight back against. The scene doesn’t really go hard one way or the other, it even introduces that characters are often biased in what they say (Obi-Wan’s feelings for Satine mean he isn’t always as clear-headed as he should be), it’s a scene that just sort of is, it’s two characters expressing their points of view in a friendly discussion, but it really struck me that Dex blatantly said that her push for neutrality isn’t going to help things. (Personally, I think Satine’s point of view is really, really empathizable for someone whose life’s work is to drag Mandalore away from war, that they’re still so wounded from the centuries and centuries of war, that they probably couldn’t be dragged into this war and I can believe that she feels other systems shouldn’t be joining in because then, what happened to Mandalore, might happen to them, too.  She is intimately aware of the cost of war and has said “no more”, even if I disagree with her, because those innocent lives were still on the line, those planets were still being bombarded with bio-chemical weapons to kill them all, they were still being kidnapped and enslaved, as evil as war is, neutrality isn’t the answer when it’s destroying people.)

[gatorbites-imagines]

I’m not picky just wanna be fussed over & cuddle

Peter Parker x sick male reader

Headcanons

You can imagine most Peters in this scenario, though I always write with comic spidey in mind. Aka, adult, own apartment, job, etc. but I don’t think it’s really mentioned in this. At first, I was gonna write about Trafalgar Law, but I feel like he would we way too much doctor, not enough cuddling.

Not that long, but I hope it’s enough.

I have a feeling Peter would realize before you that you were sick. Like, hed notice a change in your scent, your body temperature or how sluggish you would get.

Noticing early on wouldn’t stop a cold obviously, but he would start getting ready for it, most likely without thinking about it. He just catches himself gathering blankets and your favorite snacks that he knows you can stomach when sick.

Would he make a nest out of webs when you got sick? Maybe? It depends on how spidery we imagine this peter. I feel he would at least stick blankets and pillows together to make the most comfortable bed for you to lay in.

He would try to talk you out of going out or going anywhere when he notices you getting sick. But Peter is known for dating stubborn people, so it would shock nobody if you still went out, thinking you were fine, only for you to get really sick.

Hes never mad about it though, Peter loves you too much. He does tsk and crack a few jokes about it, how your neighborhood spider-nurse needs to take care of you.

Peter would patrol and work less when you are sick, or not patrol at all, depending on how bad it is. If crime is at the normal amount he might stay home anyways, just to spend time with you and make you feel seen and cared for.

I feel like his healing factor keeps Peter from catching common colds and fevers, so he doesn’t worry about kissing and cuddling you. He does joke about the kiss being extra germy, which you would have pushed him out of the bed for, if you weren’t so tired.

Peter likes you feed you when you are sick, since he thinks you should use all your energy to fight whatever sickness you have. He also just thinks it’s kinda romantic.

Peter is also the kind of guy who always worries if you’re drinking enough. He doesn’t just bring you water but all kinds of juices, gatorades, whatever you can think of. You always end up with like 10 different drinks by the bed “just in case you want something else babe”

Not having to worry about getting sick also means Peter will cuddle you. Having a very flexible spider boyfriend also means he can fit right around you inside whatever blanket nest you guys have made up.

His hugs are always so comfortable, since he’s got the strength to give you a good squeeze. Peter would spend this time massaging sore areas of your body, if you are fine with that.

The policy that kisses make it better lives through Peter, so your forehead gets a lot of kisses too.

He also keeps your hands inside his own or under his shirt if the fever makes your hands cold, to keep you warm. You always feel nice and toasty with Peter, there’s no way he’s letting his lover freeze.

Peter also never finds you off-putting or gross when you are sick. It’s just human nature to be sick, and honestly? Seeing you sick makes him love you more, since it means you trust him to be vulnerable around him.

So, peter might be somewhat clumsy and messy in the beginning setting it all up, panicking about getting you everything you need. But he’s a great nurse and cuddlebuddy. When he’s done all his research and gotten all the things though, it’s all cuddles and pampering.

Be careful or he’s gonna bathe you too and not let you lift a finger until you are all better again. Make sure to give him extra kisses to show you are thankful, even if he says its just what boyfriends are meant to do.

[alevolpe]

If Makoto and Ami are a baker and her doctor wife, what jobs do the other sailor scouts have?

Also what medical specialty is Dr. Mizuno in? (Dr. Kino? Who took whose last name?)

Oh, good question!

I see Usagi becoming a mangaka assistant! We've seen Usagi being quite the talented artist in canon, and she obviously loves reading manga, so I can pretty easily see her turning that into a career. That said, she might dip her toes a few times on making her own manga, but given the extremely strenous work hours, I don't see her publishing anything more than a pretty popular short series and a few one shots. She decides to stick mostly with assistant jobs.

I can easily see Rei just sticking to being a priestess at Hikawa Shrine. There's ups and downs about it, but I do believe she genuinely cares for the temple and keeping up its legacy after her grandfather's passing. Will it be her forever goal? Maybe not. Maybe later in life, she chooses to embark on a different path, perhaps being the singer she always dreamed of becoming.

Mina is all over the freaking place. This might be a bit of a controversial take, but I never really see her blowing up, as to say. She never becomes the biggest idol ever, like she always dreamed of, and that's not even from lack of trying. Some of her songs do go viral, but I just don't believe she's really cut for it at the end. She branches out and becomes a bit of a niche micro celebrity, mostly online, but makes the occasional radio and TV appearances. She mostly writes and performs her own songs and participates in popular radio broadcasts and podcasts. Still pays the bills, but won't cause her to get swarmed from just walking out in public.

Michiru has enough wealth and affluence to be able to live in luxury her whole life and the next 10+ generations to come without moving a single finger, but that's not what she wants. She just keeps on creating. Music, art, you name it. She just has an endless passion and appreciation for it. It makes her money, yes, but that's not her job really. She does it because she loves it.

Haruka.. I mean, Haruka lives in luxury as well. I think I said this before, but I see Haruka coming from an incredibly poor upbringing. She's basically as rich as she is because of Michiru and she's always very grateful and humble for her position. She doesn't become a race car driver (idk if people know how much you have to put into that career, it basically becomes your whole life and takes YEARS AND YEARS of training). I simply see her helping out her local garage shop regularly. When you're that rich, you can kind of do whatever you want, but Haruka's no slacker. She loves feeling useful and helping others.

Now, if you ask me personally, I see Ami being either a trauma surgeon or a brain surgeon. I know canonically she wants to be a pediatrician, but my Ami is a bit different. She's not nearly as apt with kids as her canon counterpart. Saeko before her being one of the most influential and renowned neurosurgeons in Japan.

Answering your last question.. I genuinely could swing either way. On one hand, Ami keeping her mother's last name (yes, it's her mother's, not her father's, idc) is very important, not only to her as her mother's daughter, but also as a form of respect and tradition to her family before her. Saeko, having kept her last name from her own father. It has become a bit of a status symbol in the medical and scientific fields, which Ami would only work to strengthen even further.

On the other hand, Kino has endless value to Makoto. In many ways, it's the most meaningful and everlasting memento left by her parents. It's a promise. A promise to stay true to herself, to be kind and to be brave, like her parents always taught her. It would be hard for her to let go of it, but it's a struggle that would die at her lips forever. She would never voice it to Ami. There's some problems that Mako will always just choose to deal with by herself.

All that said, I personally tend to default to Ami keeping her last name, Dr. Mizuno.

[fmhobeus]

house and you as pill/smoke buddies is on my brain rn mhmmm...

it probably starts when he catches you on the roof, blunt in hand, sighing into the void. your lab coat is abandoned on the sill. hard day at the hospital, child patient. couldn't save them. you know this is a high stress job, emotionally draining and you've never been good at coping. so there you are. some diazepam you swallowed down thirty minutes prior already in your system. must've kicked in already. house see's you and he's instantly intrigued by the arch of your back and the curve of your hips. perfect in those tight pencil skirts you wear. he doesn't know you but he's dying to figure out.

"i think you've stolen my spot." he clambers up to you. he's surprised you hadn't turned when you heard the cane. were you so deep in thought? you turn to look at him. register him. disheveled looking older man, 5 o'clock shadow, piercing blue eyes... and so you're type. you try to recall who he is. definitely a physician from the absence of a lab coat. is this the infamous...

"dr. house," he states. obviously the speed of your reaction, or lack thereof had intrigued him. your pupils were dilated and your breathing was irregular... though you might attribute that to present company "and you should not be this high while still in the hospital."

you breathe out the smoke you inhaled with a slight smirk. it makes him smirk too. you turn your back to the view and face him and subsequently eye his frame. he returns the favor, a lot less suggestively then you were. but of course he can't hold you to it, the way your eyes flutter is mostly because of the weed. heavy, intoxicating eyes. something tells you he doesn't mind it.

"don't tell. i'll leave in a minute and you can have your space back" you say.

"i said you stole my spot... who says you have to give it back?"

you smile and scoot over, tilting your head slightly gesturing him to join you. he pops two vicodin innocuously but you notice.

"damn, you swallow your pills dry? you're a sociopath" you giggle.

"i thought you as a doctor would be careful throwing around serious medical terms like that" he says, feigning an accusation. there's something about the intensity of eye contact you're holding. you've just met the guy and there's wayyy too much sexual tension in the air.

"not in the psychiatric department so no one can hold me to it," you say, blowing smoke in another direction. some part of house wanted you to blow the smoke right at him, not breaking the mutual eyefucking going on at the moment.

"how else did you get the lorazepam you've taken?" he asks, a sly tone like he has you all figured out. this was just a question to get you to spill the beans about your department. god you made him so curious. rarely had he seen a hot young doctor brazenly smoking after, presumably, taking a little something something. one so open to converse with an old man whose in her business.

you chuckle at his self assuredness.

"wanna take another guess?"

house uses this to shamelessly eye you. you're well put together, great sense of fashion. nice proportions. your body, not the outfits... he'd prefer you without them surely. no tremor. no injury, so no usual pain medication. you let out a heavy sigh and house darts his eyes towards your chest. great rack, he thinks, almost like he's going to put it in this mental patient report he's creating.

"hmmm, haloperidol? you don't strike me as the psychosis type though... valium wouldn't give you selective hearing. diazepam?"

"you know your anxiety medication, doc," you smile. he sighs abashedly. god he's hot. something about that rasp in his voice, good god, paired with the vanity radiating off his skin... it does something to you. you finally introduce yourself, partially because you need him to call you by your name in the same raspy, smug tone.

"pediatric pulmonology..." he puts a hand to his chin, scratching his stubble as if contemplating something serious, "it's always the childcare specialists trying to overdose on the hospital terrace. dont blame you, if i had to deal with those parasites i'd want to kill myself too."

you shoot him a look. your sure you dont need to tell him the stakes of the job, the weight on your soul when a child with an obvious chronic and fatal condition comes into intensive care. the cruel hand fate plays on a mere baby. "kids are a product of their environment." you put plainly. you look away into the distance. "and i'm not trying to kill myself. not yet anyway." he stops prodding, obviously he's ticked you in some way.

"are you trying to kill yourself? doctor house?" you stare at him now, and then move your eyes to the almost empty bottle of vicodin.

"oh, i'm an addict. an addict whose due for a refill." he puts the bottle at eye level, as if examining a test tube. you can't help but give a defeated smile at his bluntness. you stare off into space again. a hollow silence follows. you don't dare look at house once.

"you mind if i take a hit"

his question catches you off guard. there's an earnest in his blue eyes. almost as if involuntarily, almost hypnotized, you hand him the joint. your fingers brush as if on purpose. your breath hitches again. and house notices, coloring his eyes a different shade of vain. he puts the blunt to his lips, your eyes follow his every move with heed. the pink of his lips soon emit the familiar smoke. he looks you right in the eyes as he blows it onto your face. you bask in the smoke letting it cloud you. cloud your judgement for a split second as you lean forward. for a kiss? maybe but

house puts the blunt to your lips this time, dragging his thumb across your bottom lip. you look up at him through your lashes, eyes blown out wide. he's so tall, even with his cane. he lets you intake the smoke for a second longer than you like, maintaining the intense gaze on you. there's a kick in your stomach. maybe it's something. maybe it's nothing. maybe you're just high. but you swear you've never been wetter.

[undeadslayerr]

I think I get what you mean. I guess since I don't really experience transphobia in the way that people would attack me on the street for looking gnc or trans, I'd rather assume transphobia is less pervasive. This example you gave makes me really understand the whole point better.

those who stay silent are complicit in transphobia, even if they gender us correctly and are generally polite to us.

I guess since most people just don't have much of an opinion about trans issues at all, I'd assume they aren't transphobic. You're right that it may be the opposite.

Society itself is definitely transphobic, and is for sure constructed in a misogynistic and transphobic way. And because of it, I agree that a lot of people are definitely made to be transphobic. But I'm of the opinion that if detached from that influence, most people wouldn't really mind anyone trans. I guess that doesn't make them not transphobic per se.

I'm gonna go on a more personal tangent now to explain my perspective a bit more. You don't have to read it if you dgaf lol, it really doesn't matter much.

For example, I had a doctor appointment very recently. I outed myself as trans to the doctor. Basically the situation was:

I was there under my deadname to make everything medical easier. During the medical exam she noticed excessive body hair and asked if I'm under a doctor's care regarding any hormone imbalances, since it looks like I could have excessive testosterone. I sheepishly explained that it's intended, because I'm trans and taking testosterone.

She wasn't grossed out or rude or anything. She asked for my chosen name and referred to me by it. She switched my pronouns when she was speaking halfway through the visit. She congratulated me, said I look masculine and HRT is clearly working, and said she's happy people today can be who they wanna be.

At first she had trouble referring to me by the correct pronouns, but she corrected herself very quickly. I bet she must have some transphobic worldviews. Maybe she was, at some point, transphobic to someone else. But I don't think any of that is malicious. I think she doesn't want to be transphobic. Maybe even as much as me, who's actually a part of the trans community. I think she's uneducated and clueless about the stuff that just doesn't affect her as much.

And I think, because of that, I'd rather just not assume transphobia. I think I'll still approach people with the mindset of "not transphobic until proven otherwise", just for my own peace of mind I guess. I feel like people who are not transphobic can be educated, while transphobes don't even hear you out.

I think you're right though, in the way that transphobia is much more varied and prevalent than just physical violence in the streets. And a lot of people, including myself, can still hold transphobic worldviews they were taught, and just overall be transphobic, even if unintended. I think the problem I have with this, is how unclear it really all is in practice. Sexism, racism, transphobia and homophobia often intersect, not mentioning the fact that some people are just bigots for sport. At what point does being uneducated stop and being malicious start?

Overall it's a complex issue and I appreciate the explanation!! I know, despite the fact that I'm trans, I don't really know everything about trans issues, so I see a lot of value in dialogues like this. :))

why do people assume celebrities are not transphobic by default? we live in a deeply transphobic world. many of the "basic facts about the world" we are taught as children are fully transphobic lies. i don't get why, when people like a celebrity, they write a little fictional biography in their head about how they're probably not transphobic (despite the fact that, mathematically, most people totally transphobic, especially people of class celebrities belong to). like why? why just assume that people in this deeply transphobic world are progressive trans allies by default without any kind of evidence?

[zayneslilsis]

💉 doctor zayne <3 reader 🍰

♡ warnings: mdni, pervy zayne, underage fem reader, grooming, light medical kink.

“Don’t worry, dear. I will make sure you are perfectly healthy. Trust me, okay?” 

Doctor Zayne who treats you with the utmost care. Always complimenting you, calling you a precious girl, petting your thigh when you take your shots without crying, and always picking out a lollipop flavor for you. 

( He always watches how your tongue circles the sweet treat with the most impure thoughts.)

Visit after visit, he starts to get bold with you. Touching you without his latex gloves on or sending you out the door to your mom after pressing a kiss to the top of your head. They’re precious secrets that make your young cunny ache. Sometimes your kiddie mind hopes he could kiss your cheek or your lips for once but you keep that to yourself.

“And what about when I touch … Here? How does that feel, dear?”

The first time he starts to touch you he begins with your chest. Developing nicely for your age but your chest is just only beginning to blossom. Nipples sensitive to the touch. Every little grope from his large hands makes you whine and claw at his lab coat.

Zayne puts you on his lap where your back is on his chest. He’s firm but gentle. Your tiny frame could be swallowed up by him but he treats you with care. He loves you so much that it takes a lot of effort to not force his adult cock in your puffy cunny.

( You don’t tell him that you can feel something big and hard under your butt. )

Young girls like you shouldn’t let older men like him touch their breasts but you don’t care. Your back is arched, little heart beating fast, moaning his name, and your hips desperately humping him. Zayne is grinding on your ass chasing after the warmth of your princess parts.

You cum from your nipples being groped. There’s a hotness underneath you. Cum from your puffy cunny and Zayne’s cun trapped under his pants.

He kisses you and tells you that you did so, so, so good. You blush and think you love him.

“Let’s keep this between me and you, okay?”“Okay, Doctor Zayne~”

Like the gentleman he is, Doctor Zayne cleans you up and gets you a clean change of panties. You don’t know that he keeps your stained pair in his back pocket.

Shyly, you press a kiss to his lips while sitting on the examination table. His cock twitches back to life in his pants. He kisses you back and has to make himself stop before he takes your virginity.

Zayne is sweet with you. He makes you comfortable and happy and makes you feel loved. So much so that it doesn’t even cross your mind that you were molested by your doctor. Zaynie is too nice to you to be one of those icky perverts.

( The second you’re out the door he rewatches the recording on his phone. He had recorded the entire time and jerked off to the footage while sniffing your cum stained panties. He moans your name. )

[spliqi]

higuchi thoughts of the day: as much as i love the idea of her having some devastatingly destructive ability… her having a healing/support ability would explain so much of her character. like. her high ranking in the mafia despite (as far as we know) not being extraordinarily strong. her assignment to akutagawa + his resentment of her + her being so overprotective of him. the irl author’s connection to mori and yosano. dw about it

[aq2003]

ten

[pigeonentity]

i keep thinking about them in terms of for and against each other: thirteen's against, twelve's for, eleven i think would be against, ten's for, and i haven't watched anything before him (yeah ikk im getting to it soon. watched it w my parents the first time so its on them) so i can't speak beyond that. dhawan's against, missy's for, and simm's against. like they've all got at least a little of both but they have a general direction

twissy worked out because they both cared about each other. missy came to help the doctor when he thought he was going to die, the doctor... locked her up, but he did have good intentions. i dont think we can say spydoc worked out, but i think since they both hated each other it went smoother than it could have. and tensimm was fucking doomed (neither of them want the same thing. they want each other to be different people)

twelvesimm, which was overshadowed by twissy but still deserves a mention, i think is similar to tensimm but with time could have had a higher chance of success, since 12, i think, might have responded more to him rather than trying to push him into someone who wanted to be better. tbh it might depend on the doctor's mood that day, im a little uncertain about this one but at the very least its a vaguely more functional tensimm

thrissy would break me. thrissy would be the anti-tensimm. missy shows up, still an enemy but also always, willingly and knowingly, a friend, and this time it's the doctor who says no. who tells her to fuck off, less distrust than expected and more loathing. they fight until missy realises it's not their usual games, and the doctor's gone too far stopping her. i mean come on her master tried to have her and her companions killed but it's not like he actually did it-- but she turned him over to the fucking nazis before she even knew he destroyed gallifrey, and missy killed osgood just after the doctor offered to have her as a companion, how would 13 take that?

11missy (elmissy? elemissy? mileven? no.) would run similarly, but if we're going with her using her same plan that she used on 12... he would take the army. he would take the army, however little he trusted her. i can see it going a few ways-- she leaves or he kills her or he locks her up somewhere because he's the doctor and she's the master and that's what he does, she comes back and suggests conquering the universe together or something, he says no and they fight, he says yes because he excuses murder if it aligns with what he wants, or if he likes the person enough (look at who he married!!) and they murder across the universe and we have canon thoschei until a companion saves the universe from them or river gets jealous

11dhawan would be AMAZING they have VERY similar energy and it would be SO much fun but also-- parallels? you could do so many little parallels with that? we see them spin the same way at the same time and they hate each other but one comments on something walking down a hallway and the other comes by and says the same thing and ughhh who do i pay to make this happen??

12dhawan has a special place in my hearts and i cant completely say why i just need them to meet. i need to be there when the master shows the doctor the timeless child and he cant accept it. idk if he'd be able to go the "there's more of me!" way out that 13 did, but he might be able to half do it, in that he realises he can overload the system but they break out of there through spite. i need to be there when the doctor says that ofc burning gallifrey is wrong, but he sides with the master. they lied to us. they lied to both of us. i need to see the master's anger, because he's being forgiven again. but he's not forgiving him, it's more that he understands, or like what he said to clara-- do you really think i care for you so little that betraying me could make a difference?-- and the master doesn't know what to do with that. he is so close to being better. but he doesn't want to be. so he burns himself up

10missy would work BUT i think 10 might take the army and theyd be less functional than twissy

I FORGOT THE ONES AFTER 13 skipping 14 bc he blurs into 10 for me even though they're different, but 15 would be for and he and missy would both hurtle into "this is MY queer friends to enemies to whatever the fuck we are and i can be as weird and dramatic about it as i like" not only are they both for but they're both on the exact same level as to what their relationship is and they're so fucking weird about it it's brilliant. varies a bit depending on who missy kills but i think there's a lot of chaotic potential there

but also if the master starts being too dramatic he would just tell them to shut up. which would also be brilliant

ANYWAY if anybody writes about any of these versions PLEASE tag me i need to read about them. pigeonentity on here and ao3. please

to me thoschei is one of those dress up games where i get to mix and match different items of clothing (versions of the doctor and the master) to create stunning outfits (tragic relationship dynamics)

[spiralmode]

wait im rewatching saw 2004 and as a germaphobe one of the cruelest things i had to watch adam endure was dig around in that toilet ("find anything?" "no solids!" 🤢) anyway so he had just taken out the play me tape out of a ziploc bag and that stuck with me because I was like okay that's something he could use idk for what but for something, and so then that toilet scene happens and im like yelling at my screen adam!!! no!!!!!!!!! use the ziploc bag as a glove ahhhhhhh !! but he just went right in there with only one small moment of hesitation

[quietwingsinthesky]

the last unicorn post from earlier has me thinking about the master. that yana is still in there, you know? is still someone he was, if even for a brief flash across the life of a time lord. there’s no way to unlive that life. there are ways to twist it later, sure, to make utopia into hell on earth. but the life was lived. in much the same way that the doctor can remember, can feel, the love he held onto as john smith even as that life is ripped out of his hands. the doctor choose denial and then grief and then to shutter it all away. and so john smith died, and so professor yana died, and the doctor and the master live on. the doctor has done this before, and he lives in orbit around humanity, trying to keep the best parts of them and hold them deep enough to take root (which he can pretend he gets to choose, as a time lord. as a human, it all floods in and can’t be dug back out.) but what about the master, right?

to borrow a turn of phrase: i think there are two time lords left in the universe, and they both learned how to regret.

[laniidae-passerine]

see I am very disjointed from a lot of nine/ten fandom discourse because I genuinely believe that in a different world where space boy was not to be seen, had an older Rose gone to the hospital and bumped into a certain Doctor Jones by a vending machine or as she was taking Rose’s vitals, she would have instantly hit it off with Martha. and probably flirted with her a little on accident and then on purpose when Martha flirted back

[ficoandleo]

[Please convince your violent husband to use the sensory deprivation tanks at Darkwick General instead of committing crimes against his own body. I've already wrangled permissions for him to use them freely, he just needs to show up.]

@ask-doctor-isami

He starts to type 'He's not my husband' but concludes that it's besides the point and a waste of time to say. He knows who he means.

He hasn't done anything abnormally dangerous since then, but if I think he's acting strange again I'll see what I can do

Not that that BTH listens to me. But he might consider it more if I suggest it

On the other hand the more I think about it the more I don't know if leaving him alone with nothing but his thoughts is a good idea

He flies off the handle at random. He might just feel worse in there

Maybe he'll tell me why he doesn't like the idea at least

[therewithinthestars]

my brain feels fucking fried idont understand whats wrong anymore i dont know what to do

[perfektblau]

If 🔪 all those politicians, ceos, and those who perpetuate the nightmare American healthcare system that only exists to prey and profit off from human lives would stop it, I'd do it even if it means cutting down half of my lifespan or going to purgatory. If it means people won't have to suffer anymore, I would.