#food hypersensitivity

[eatingwellwithfoodallergies]

Hi there! My name is Amelia and I’m starting this page to document my experiences, recipes, and opinions relating to food allergies. I’d love to connect and exchange recipes with other who have similar allergies!

My allergies-

Nuts (besides almonds and coconut)

Fish (not shellfish or anchovies)

Milk

Egg

I also limit my consumption of red meats (doctor recommendation, tested positive for beef/pork allergy) and oat (suspected allergy). Many (but not all) of my recipes are vegan too!

[smaller-comfort]

We tend to mostly watch food shows in this household, and every time Iberico ham comes up in whatever show we're watching (Choped, Buzzfeed's Worth It, Master Chef, whatever)- I get a terrible flashback to the time @pissyeti came home from the cheese shop with an entire Iberico leg bone.

We made stock out of it, because what else are you going to do with a $99 leg bone? Except we threw it in a crock pot overnight; this was before we had an instantpot. It made the whole house smell like ham water.

The whole house just. Smacked of ham.

We ended up making the most amazing soup out of it (oranges, guajllo chiles, coffee, brisket), but my god. Imagine the dog-food qualities of prosciutto, intensified a thousandfold, permeating your clothes and skin. That inescapable porcine essence, suffusing your soul for days. An umami-bomb nightmare.

Anyway, Iberico itself is a strange thing- this is the wagyu of pigs, fed an exclusive diet of acorns- and the taste is distinctly lemony on top of the layered complexity of cured meat. Good shit; if you have access to buy it by the pound, try a slice or two.

Just- don't make stock in the crockpot unless you're prepared for the consequences.

[majorshatterandhare]

Something about The Littlest Libertine (the song) makes me feel about to cry and I don’t know why. Something nostalgic maybe? All kinds of music made me cry as a kid.

[mythicalcoolkid]

After too many years here I've final what hornets' nests I am not brave enough to kick

[oh-yes-i-did-not]

I am a fucking good boy, I deserve all the pats because I just ate piece of a small tree. I don’t know what you call it, exactly but broccoli I think. A green salad thing that looks like a tree. And I ate half of what looked like a whole, round bush. It felt hateful and bad and WRONG but I ate it. I know I can’t handle it but I also know I need to try things so I did. And I hated it. But I ated it.

So, for anyone asking if I’ve tried some arbitrary thing they think I need to be able to eat, YES. And I despised every moment of it.

[varietysky]

becoming more sensitive to food smells is making me want to punch walls, whyyyy am I like this now

[ciboriaadastra]

Spice is not an excuse btw. There are plenty of foods from nonwhite cultures that don't use strong spices.

One of my safe foods is literally shrimp paste (bagoong alamang) cooked in tomato sauce to make the salty taste almost negligible...put over rice. No spices. Just shrimp fermented in salt.

Another one of my safe foods is salted eggs (itlog na maalat) with tomatoes and rice. No spices. Just eggs left in a salt brine for a few weeks.

Fried rice doesn't even have anything wild in it and everybody makes that. Dumplings? Steamed buns? Egg rolls? Spring rolls? Fish patties? Pho? Sinigang?

Y'all are either liars or racists, take your pick.

We’re all fuckin autistic here why don’t you give me a better reason why you dislike all ethnic/“weird” food

[dropdeadbf]

society treats emotionally sensitive and/or mentally ill people the way they treat food sensitivities/aversions and dietary needs.

theres even this attitude that if you even simply dont like something or find 1 particular thing upsetting then you are being picky or overdramatic.

things bother people. sometimes its for a reason like a disorder, disease, or allergy. and sometimes its just because.

i think the way society is with how people eat food and what they can(t) or do(nt) eat really shines a light on the way people get weird abt the natural spectrum of human emotion, sensitivity, and processing all that.

[offensiveslur]

Ugh i hate that the cooking smell stays on my hair after i cooked something

[quietwingsinthesky]

I can taste everything all the time and it kind of stresses me out

[asmuchasidliketo]

Yes, and no.

Because I have the brain of a picky eater and it's COMPLICATED AS FUCK.

At home, I only tolerate flavored water (sugar-free lemon syrup is my friend)

However, I have a water bottle

Before leaving the house (for work or for going in the city) I fill my water bottle with tap water

As long as I'm outside of home, I love tap water

... well, I love the tap water of where I'm living right now. The tap water of where I was living before was yucky.

So, if you were following, at work, I drink tap water in my water bottle

... but only if I'm actually at my work station. The very second I'm not in it, the tap water that was the drink of gods turns blegh.

What about bottle water? Well, all my senses are pretty strong and believe it or not, minerals give taste to water. So I like some brands and hate others.

tl;dr: I drink plain water, unless I don't.

No shade on people who don't drink water/plain water; any hydration is good hydration.

–

We ask your questions so you don’t have to! Submit your questions to have them posted anonymously as polls.

[temis-de-leon]

Gn!MC with tactile hypersensitivity

Characters: Mammon, Asmodeus, Belphegor and Barbatos (x reader, separately; could be read as romantic or platonic)

Main Masterlist

Anon request: Hello! May I request maybe a Gn!reader who has oversensitivity to like textures with the demon brothers? Or the side dateables? Like certain fabrics with mess with them more and work the reader up? If they touch like rough textures they tend to scratch at the skin as it feels irritated. I don’t really know how to explain it as I suck with words but I have the problem a lot.

.

Mammon

Another reason for him to believe humans are weird and over-sensitive.

Not only you can’t stand too high or low temperatures, but also certain Devildom foods, books and critters; and now a 35% wool jumper?

He swears babysitting a child is easier than taking care of you and acts really mean about it, but everyone can tell it’s just his way of hiding how worried he is about you.

The first thing he notices is the fidgeting, although that would’ve been obvious even to a blind man. You squirm in your classroom seat, still unused to your brand-new uniform, and mindlessly scratch the skin under the collar and the seams until it’s red.

Mammon can only watch in a stupor as you kneel in front of the bathtub when you return home to soak the clothes in fabric softener.

But the jumper.

You jump at the contact, like it electrifies you, and then stare at it with undisguised discomfort, never touching It ever again.

That 60% polyester and 5% elastane are enough for him to swallow his pride and ignore his embarrassment, letting his affection for you show as time goes by.

The bond between you grows faster than anyone could’ve ever anticipated, so it’s not strange for you to find some of his belongings in your room. A spare charger, a toothbrush, his sunglasses case, a nail polish bottle… Small things.

However, not long passes until those small things evolve into something permanent with deeper intentions, like an unopened bottle of Devilish No. 5 or one of his beloved leather jackets.

It also doesn’t feel that weird anymore, now that you know him better, whenever he insists on you wearing the clothes he leaves there.

Not like you’re going to complain. Everything he has is of good quality, soft under your touch, and durable.

But don’t go babbling out that he’s doing this for you! He was just cleaning his wardrobe, that’s all!

Asmo

Going shopping with you feels like getting a gift wrapped in glitter and laced ribbons; he can’t get enough of it. And lately, it’s been even better than that because now you are the one asking him to go together.

He has nothing against your style, even if he would still modify it a little bit to perfectly match his, but he enjoys grabbing your arm and taking you to different stores, choosing a wild variety of items for you to try and, if you’re up to it, get out of your comfort zone.

That’s how he discovers your problem.

No matter what he chooses, you always consider it way longer than anyone else would ever do, including him; reading the tags to check the fabric’s materials and sometimes even not touching the item at all.

You tell him it’s because of the texture and how it feels to the touch, unpleasant and irritating, and while he doesn’t understand the sensation in its entirety, Asmo gets how certain types of clothes can cause aversion.

One of the most important things for him is feeling comfortable in what you are and what you’re wearing and no one in all the realms deserves that more than you, so he is already helping before being asked to.

As superficial as he seems sometimes, he is also extremely generous to the people he loves, and he happens to love you a gigantic ton.

Just tell him what type of fabric triggers you so he can avoid those while shopping; it’s like they don’t exist in the same world as you anymore.

Belphie

One moment he’s peacefully sleeping in the attic, his whole body sprawled over yours and an old blanket covering both, and the next he’s waking up alone and cold. The blanket is useless without you.

He thought you were mad at him, cue him trailing behind you with a confused and offended stare for the next few hours.

Why did you leave without telling him? Why did you leave at all, to begin with?

Oh, you’re not mad? Then come back!

You need to expressively tell him what the problem is or else he will drag you to bed again and pass out on top of or next to you.

Thankfully, his clothes are not the issue and he can still wear them comfortably while cuddling you at the same time. The blanket, however, is another story.

It’s been used for longer than you’ve probably been alive and the wool is pilled beyond recognition. Actually, it’s not until he decides to retire the blanket for your sake that he realizes the colour is also washed down to the point of looking like another thing completely.

Knowing that his previous blanket was so awful it made you scratch your own skin leaves an incredibly sour taste in his mouth.

In his defence, you could’ve said something sooner, but oh well.

Good riddance; it served good until it didn’t.

From then on you have complete freedom to use whatever feels more comfortable for you so you can keep sleeping together uninterrupted.

Besides his, yours and the attic’s bed, he has slept on the floor, the cabinets, tables, rugs and whatnot, so he isn’t really picky about what you’re choosing.

His priority is that you’re comfortable and satiated because as long as you’re there, he doesn’t need anything else.

Barbatos

Lo and behold, another festival has reached the Devildom.

How does anyone have the time to live their private life while dealing with school, (possibly) a job and the occasional event, you wonder?

Good question!

Anyway.

It’s not you who goes to Barbatos asking for help to design your costume; instead, he is the one sending you a message for permission to take your measurements. And who would reject such an offer from the royal butler?

Barely a couple of days later, you find yourself on top of a small platform in one of the guest rooms in the Demon Lord’s Castle while Barbatos kneels at your feet and holds a sewing tape in his hands.

He’s talking about the design, its colours and the length and you’re only thinking about fabrics, but would that be too much work for him? Of course, he lives to serve and he has made that abundantly clear on numerous occasions, but perhaps being too demanding was crossing a limit.

You couldn’t be more wrong.

He understands your struggle and acts very normal about it. Besides, he also wants you to be happy and comfortable and if he’s the one actively making that a reality, then it’ll be that much better.

Additionally, searching for more suitable fabrics means that you will both spend more time together, which Barbatos deeply appreciates.

In the end, not only will you look perfect in a costume he has made specifically for you, but he will also get to know more about who you are and what makes you you.

As insignificant as it may look, every single detail is very important to him.

.

.

Taglist: @ilovecandys2010 @ollieoven @kingofspadesdelusion @whimsybloom

[murdrdocs]

hobie x reader period sex headcanons (my drunk request just for u❤️)

almost a month later and im finally bleeding again so here we are

at first, it's not something he suggests because he's craving period sex. it's day two or three, the meds are taking care of your cramps, food is sitting well in your stomach, the heating pad on your back alleviates any weird period soreness, and you're able to comfortable make out with hobie without feeling gross or stopping for a strong wave of cramps.

like usual, making out isn't just making out. hands on your ass, bumping crotches, groans and moans swallowed. all of this quickly leading somewhere that has your thumbs twiddling behind hobie's head.

and when he starts kissing down your neck, you softly whimper, stopping him by grabbing onto the fabric of his tee and gently pulling him back. "'m on my period," gnawing on your bottom lip as you tell him, being greeted with a blank stare, then a shrug. "don't care. 's long as you don't either."

you care about the mess, but you know hobie's seen his fair share of large amounts of blood, usually covered in it himself, and hobie always makes you comfortable. so suddenly you're laid back on the bed, two towels and a blanket under you, a really old pillow beneath it all for your lower back, and hobie between your hips.

the hypersensitivity makes everything ten times better, if even possible. the pain in your nipples is enjoyable when hobie gently bites them. the soreness of your vulva makes hobie's thumb on your clit feel like heaven. the cramps in your lower abdomen barely matter when hobie's cock is pressing close to there, keeping your attention focusing on that pressure instead of the uncomfortable one.

hobie's usually filfthy mouth is replaced with his caring one instead, words meant to comfort you, to keep you confident and comfortable in the situation. "feels good, yeah? tell me how good it feels, babe. you good? yeah, you're okay. sensitive, eh? can feel how you're squeezing me. think we should do this more often."

he's holding your hand if needed, kissing all over your body, fucking you slower than he usually would, big hands massaging your thighs and tits and belly throughout the entire thing.

and you thought all the chat about period sex helping with cramps was just a myth, but afterwards, you feel so good and there's barely any discomfort and suddenly you're taking the best nap of your life cuddled up next to hobie, thankful that your boyfriend runs hot in moments like these.

[evilminji]

You know what? HAVE we tried Yoda's "younglings fix everything" tactic on Skywalker?

New SI-OC Time!

Smol, adorable, has a bug out bag and enough credits stashed for their life on the run! Already learned how to tie the hover prams together in like .001 seconds flat and (SUPER gently) toss the babies into um. Knows where the baby food is. Conveniently, has helped ORGANIZE said baby food. (Some of which was "organized" straight into bug out bags)

The whole works.

But like.....?

Better part of a cure? Is prevention you know? And the Tragedy Of Anikin Skywalker? Is that he WAS a GOOD MAN.

And she's standing there, with her Fully Grown ADULT SOUL, looking at this KID who thinks he's a man... this TEENAGER who's been GROOMED by a Sith Lord, a fully grown adult he TRUSTED in a position of power and authority over him, the FORMER SLAVE, and she just...?

How can she look upon his soul? So brightly burning with light and emotion and a sense of JUSTICE? A young man who CARES so much he can barely function some days. Who's heart's ambition is to Free The Slaves so NO ONE will ever again suffer as he and his mother did? Who looks at his partner like she's the most wonderful person to ever draw breathe?

So bright. So GOOD. Struggling and trying and fighting a battle he doesn't even know he's IN, against a Sith Lord he thinks is his FRIEND?

How can she look upon that young man... and just? Abandon him. Decide he's too much effort to save. To even TRY. That his fate is a forgone conclusion and he is destined to Fall. Such things are a CHOICE. And Anikin Skywalker? Has had precious few of those in his life. Between Duty and his youth, lives on the line and Master's that owned.

This is HIS Soul. HIS future. And Palpatine is trying to chip away at his ability to think clearly. Trying to pressure and rush rush RUSH! So he chooses in fear and desperation, like the bad sell it is. Knowing he'll feel he's "too far gone" to back out. Letting him spiral. Ever tightening that noose.

But? Like... the man DOES want to be a dad. Have a family. The thought HAS to be there.

"I should practice taking care of Force Sensitive younglings..."

You know... in case he in Padme... I mean, he's not SUGGESTING anything! But, I mean? If she WANTED too? And he knows they're young and all... and it would complicate everything... but? But!

They'd be KIDS. His kids. HER kids. THEIR KIDS! A... a family. He can barely imagine it.

A problem though? Is how LOUD he is. He can't help it. No more then one can help their hair or eye color. Reminders to "remember his shields" are a great deal like hearing "your breathing is upsetting people. Kindly stop." Like? What do you want him to DO, exactly? Cease existing?

Yes, he COULD be shielding better. If you met him at WHERE HE IS. Not continued to try and make him conform to a mold he'll forever be too big to fit. He's not an IDIOT. He is AWARE that babies are hypersensitive to the Force, since they are so new and rely off it for basicly everything. He KNOWS he's overwhelming to even ADULTS sometimes.

Obi-Wan can handle him because HIS shields are basicly High Council levels. He could TEACH classes to knights and masters. Everyone else? They feel a bit... projected at. It's RUDE™. Very "getting all up in my personal space and shouting". you know?

Babies can't handle that!

That UPSETS babies! Younglings too, they just don't have the words for it.

Knight Skywalker is just "So Much". It's upsetting and alienating. Force Sensitives are basicly MADE to connect to each other. Are THE most social of their various personality types, races, and various cultures. It's just?? A "ducks trying to raise a swan" scenario.

Anikin has subtly different needs. Is gonna grow to be bigger then them. What works for THEM may very well be wildly unnatural for HIM and that's OKAY. Neither of them is wrong! The PROBLEM here? Is rigidity. Refusal to meet a youngling where they ARE, out of fear of change. Clinging to tradition rather then ADMIT to ignorance... thus? Never treating that ignorance with the healing hands of Knowledge, as is the Jedi WAY.

The Sith have been at work for a long, long time.

But OC does not have to play part in their games. Bow to their rules. To hell with tradition and fear. Paths upon paths that MAY, conceivably, lead to SOMEWHERE. Did you not SAY, Master Yoda? That the Future is always in motion? Attachments may lead to darkness, but they also lead to light. They LEAD to everything. Because they are part of being ALIVE.

OBSESSION and CONTROL are the Darkside. But mere Emotions are the flowing of tides.

She prescribes hugs.

An adorable youngling, herself of course, following Skywalker around the Temple like a duckling and flopping against him every chance she gets. Asking bright eyed youngling questions of her Super Cool Esteemed Knight Elder that he'll have to look up. Or look up WITH her. Sometimes indulgent listen to HER ramble about.

Or? If he's sand blasting the soul of everyone around him? Welp, time to brace for it! Once more into the breach! She is small and squishy. Warm, huggable, and filled with light. Can hum and hug his head. Smell like Baby. Itty bitty lil light and heart beat and body. Not a threat. Cares about him. Fellow Jedi. Safe safe safe.... calm...

Does she feel a bit... rubbed raw? Soul wise, afterwards? Fuck yeah. Ouch, her everything stings. But that's not his fault. AND! He's getting better.

QUICKLY.

Cause there's nothing QUITE like an adorable wittle baby child, whom you BLASTED IN THE SOUL FACE with abrasive anger-sand hard enough to probably scour them to the BONES, wincing but smiling up at you and asking if you feel better now... to make you just a LIL bit "fuck asking Master's, I'm gonna tear the Archives apart until I can solve this on my own" hysterical. Ha ha....

Oh Force he MAIMED A CHILD! (Soul bruised, at BEST. And not intentionally.) (THATS NOT BETTEEEEEER!!! *hysterics in Skywalker*) Padme! Put me down like THE ANIMAL I'VE BECOME! AaaaaaAAAAAAA-!!! (He says, showing up at a senators apartment, holding a youngling she's never met like a teddybear. The MAN SHE MARRIED, everybody! He's so lucky she loves him. Ffs Ani.)

But like?? Shielding? Leads to SO MUCH better emotional regulation and stability? Plus an immediately increase difficulty scale for Certain Sith Lord's.

Especially! If the technique Anikin has to use? Is OLD AS FUCK. Like... Pre-Rebulic old. Considered a wildly overly complex and exhausting way to Shield for most people who just don't have the midi-chlorians count to NEED it.

A case of "the side effect of THIS medicine can actually address THAT crippling symptom!? Huh." So Anikin? Starts? INTENTIONALLY Projecting. Yeah... wild right? After so long trying NOT too! He starts learning to? PROJECT a "bubble" into the Force around him.

So that he'll only sense himself. So he can FOCUS on projecting and politely not project AT people. Kinda like elevator music where normally there is just nature noises. Very clearly artificially made? But not? "Every thought you have shouted at me" intrusive.

Kinda pleasant actually! Especially here on Coruscant. Where everything is so discordant and murky. Suddenly? There's this walking Air Filter/Lovely Ambiant Noise Machine walking around and???

Anikin has NEVER been so popular?? O:

Padme. Padme! The Crechelings FELL ASLEEP ON ME! Just?? Clambered RIGHT on up, dumped themselves in my lap, and fell asleep! Everyone wants to meditate near me! There were ARGUMENTS! Obi-Wan! OBI-WAN feel asleep on me the other day! Just?? Slumped over against my shoulder and started to CUDDLE!!! (/ T^T)/ hold me Padme! Everything is Beautiful and nothing hurts! I should have done this YEARS ago!

Also! Did you know it's Totally Cool for us to get married? We just have to get JEDI married! Wanna help me lie to the council? (Totally, you even got to ask?) O/ \O *highfive!*

Palpatine would HATE it. Fucking LOATH it. But the thing is? You can plan for actors on the stage, plan approximately for players to come, but? NO ONE can plan for a SI-OC. And even then? Any plan accounting for what children will do? Usually discounts how intelligent truely really are.

The Sith Did Not PLAN for "smart baby knows what you are up too and decides to stop you".

Because WHO WOULD PLAN FOR THAT?

Well....? Maybe don't be SUCH a dick? That the Actual Force Itself decides to fuck with your plans by introducing Chaotic elements? Ever thought of THAT??? Anyway... THAT is how the Big MEAN Sith Lord was unveiled targeting an INNOCENT and TOTALLY not provoking him, itty bitty child! Oh no! Anikin! Save meeeee! The scary bad man wants to HURT ME!

A CHILD! Who you gonna pick? Me, the crying lil girl you basicly adopted with your wife, or the man you THOUGHT was you friend... before he ATTACKED A CHILD! With a RED LIGHTSABER! And lightning! Someone's throwing around mention of SLAVE CHIPS and he's suggestinghe can "save you wife"!!!

Real CONVENIENT. Since Anikin's wife is both completely FINE and under the care of Jedi healers, yet he's been having MYSTERIOUS DREAMS about her DYING HORRIBLY. Dreams that Don't Feel Right. Like they DONT come from his head! So? How do YOU know about those dreams, HUH? SHEEV??

*Chosen One INTENSIFIES*

[myrthing]

Oh look, it's that thing what I'm not allowed to engage with because it just makes me upset and, and here I am engaging with it!

(The reason this upsets me so? There are plenty of reasons to criticise Sweden, but the way people react to this cultural difference has functionally been to accuse the whole country including me, specifically, of being subhuman sociopaths because we have/had different rules surrounding dinnertime.)

Anyway @wetwareproblem is right. I grew up with the understanding that mealtime was the end of playing at my friends' houses, and it was time to go home for my own dinner. Usually because the one who invited me to play was my friend, another child, who might not be aware of the dinner situation, such as what food was being cooked, whether that food could be stretched to accommodate a sudden guest, practical considerations.

That was what it was like when I was a kid. It was different when I got older, and my friends could be assumed to be allowed to make their own decisions. And their parents wouldn't worry about where they were, because they didn't come home for dinner.

"But my family was poor and we always—"

I'm glad for your ability to reach for some imagined moral superiority in the present, but poverty doesn't look the same for every family, and there were definitely times when my mum had to draw a quiet line about friends eating with us. Sure, I'm middle class and my mum's always been employed, so I've never had to live on macaroni for weeks because it was the only thing my mother could afford on welfare, but class isn't always so simple. I was raised by a single mother who worked in a profession that doesn't necessarily pay well. We always had less money than my peers, but no, I was never deprived of anything as a child, and it feels wrong to say we were poor. I do know mum budgeted and planned closely for what we ate in a month (because I started helping with meal planning when I was 13ish), and while there was some leeway to include guests, there wasn't a lot of it.

Anyway: this was just A Thing that happened when I was a kid. It wasn't malicious, it was just like... an expectation that your children's friends wouldn't eat dinner with you, because it was assumed they would go home to their family and eat their own dinner. Sometimes dinner schedules didn't line up (and to be fair, my family used to eat dinner really, really early*), and the friend waited in my room until I had eaten, before we continued to play until they had to go home to eat dinner. Or vice versa.

What I think it comes down is that there was an unwillingness to parent someone else's child, not because people don't care, but because it was seen as stepping on the other parents' toes. Some families get really strict about what their child is allowed to eat and that's even without taking allergies and intolerances into account.

In a way, it's pretty typical Swedish conflict avoidance? Feeding another kid might make their family feel insulted, as if we're suggesting they're poor and can't afford to feed their own children! or it's to avoid conflicts about parenting, such as "how dare you feed my child tacos on a Tuesday, that's weekend food?"

Also, thank fucking god I didn't have to eat dinner with my friends' families. They ate gross stuff! Like macaroni with ketchup and storebought meatballs! Or ugnsgratinerad falukorv, which was bad enough when I was forced to eat it at home! Or falukorv anything, frankly. (I'm sure I had friends who felt similarly about our food, because we sure are fish A LOT.)

The family not inviting someone for breakfast after a sleepover were absolutely insane rude people, though.

*We ate very early dinners because I went to bed at about seven in the evening—eight at the absolute latest—until I was twelve. I wasn't forced to, I simply had (and still have...) an extremely high need for sleep.

I hate how white people invented the we don’t owe each other anything mindset

[so-long-soldier-writes]

One of Those Days

poly!mikaelsons x reader | request

summary: between the constant fighting and city clamor, you're overstimulated from the minute you wake up. you try to isolate until you feel better, but sometimes, that only makes things worse. luckily, your loving vampire partners are always there for you.

tags: sensory issues, mental health, overstimulation, arguing, mild emotional hurt / comfort

word count: ~2.6k

a/n: requested by @asexualaromosafezone - i am SO SORRY this took me literal months to complete. a couple days ago, i suddenly remembered i never filled it and finished it asap. i hope you like it, and again, so many apologies!

Sometimes, you wake up, and can immediately tell it’ll be a hard day. The sun has barely risen, yet there’s already a million noises coming through your window. Chatters of people having their morning walks, car horns from those too impatient to let them cross, the distant clang of a dropped pot, and-

“REBEKAHHH!”

-Klaus, yelling for his sister. At seven in the morning. 

“What the bloody hell are you shouting for?! I’m right here!”

You sigh, glad that mystery solved quickly.

There’s probably a few more minutes until your alarm rings, so instead of getting up a little earlier, you opt to enjoy your last minutes of peace. Though you soon realize that’s impossible, given your circumstances. On top of the city sounds, there’s a bird right outside your window, and when you try to turn away from it, the tag on your blanket itches the inside of your thigh. 

“Ugh!” You toss the blanket off. 

Your alarm sounds not a second later. 

With a slap to your phone and then another to your forehead, you decide to just get ready for the day. Luckily, not much is planned. Marcel still has control over the city, and with you being human, your Mikaelson hosts don’t want you outside at all. 

See, you live with the family of original vampires. You used to be a Mystic Falls’ resident, but then after developing a close connection with the siblings, decided to move to New Orleans with them and get a fresh start. You were tired of the small town life, and while the big city can be overwhelming at times, you’ll never get sick of the culture it has to offer. Besides, living with the most powerful family makes you happier than you ever believed you could be. 

As much as you love them, though, they can be a pain. Like when Klaus can’t find his sister, but forgets a whisper would summon her just as effectively. Instead, he has to wake up the whole quarter, and inconvenience you with a headache. When you reach the dining room that day, you slump your head on the table. 

“Everything alright, darling?” Kol’s voice floats over your head, making you aware of his presence. 

“Tired.”

“Is your bed comfortable enough? Do you need more blankets?”

You haven’t been in the city long, and his consideration warms your heart. 

“Oh, I’m okay. I’m very comfy. Just haven’t gotten used to the city yet.”

“Ah, I understand.”

His attention drifts to his sister. You busy yourself with a plate of food and ignore how tired you feel. When Elijah sits beside you, you offer a smile, but don’t say anything. The man, polite as ever, does the same. Though while two of the siblings are quiet, the other two aren’t. Klaus and Rebekah are still on the same topic from earlier. They bounce off each other quickly, childish banter turning into an argument.

You try to eat in peace and ignore them, but it’s difficult. And it doesn’t help that you’ve been feeling down lately, anyway. It’s rather unexplainable, the way you feel. Some days you’d rather stay in bed all day than face the world. Your whole body could be begging for you to get up and get things done, but you just can’t. No matter how hard you fight your own mind, sometimes there’s no winning the raging war. 

To make matters worse, you’re always hypersensitive when you find yourself in these low moods. Every little thing is overstimulating and there’s no pause button. This morning, you didn’t even get a chance to wake up before the sounds started. (Thanks, Klaus.) You roll your eyes in your head, annoyed. 

“Hey.” A poke to your shoulder startles you, making you jump. “You okay?” 

“Ooh, you caught me off guard.”

“Sorry,” Kol smiles, “you in deep thought, or rolling your eyes at Klaus’ statement?”

“Uh…” You bite your lip. You were rolling your eyes about Klaus, but missed whatever statement it was that he just made. “What did he say?”

“That he was on his way to have a little chat with Marcel. That will go swimmingly.”

“Oh.” You snort and decide to joke. “Both.”

Kol grins at you, but then, thankfully, leaves you alone again. 

After breakfast, you retreat back into your room, not in the mood to face the day. If Klaus is really going to start shit with Marcel, it’ll be an intense day. You’ve never met the current king of the French Quarter, but Elijah’s told stories. Marcel and the family used to be close, but then, like all their other relationships, ties ended drastically. 

“But not with you, of course,” he had promised. “You’re our girl.”

You were skeptical for a moment. Who wouldn’t be, knowing the Mikaelsons? But then Klaus approached you from behind with a kiss to your hair and confirmed his brother’s words,

“As long as we have your loyalty, you’ll always have ours.”

You could see the truth in his statement. Everyone who ended up on their bad side had betrayed them in some way. So, as long as you didn’t repeat others’ mistakes; as long as you kept your trust in the family, you would be considered family. And ever since the day you first grew close, you have been their family. 

You’re close with all of the siblings. Elijah, first, when you couldn’t take your eyes off him at Damon’s dinner party. Then Rebekah, and then Kol, when he undaggered. Even Finn, before his untimely death - thanks to Matt, your good friend now worst enemy. Klaus took the longest to trust you, and you can’t blame him for having trust issues, but once he realized how much his siblings adored you, he was quick to accept your place with them. 

Now, the five of you live together, nine hundred miles from your hometown. It’s certainly a change, but every day with them is an adventure.

Like today, you suddenly think, overhearing Elijah’s footsteps in the hallway. Today has definitely been one of those days. 

“Y/N?” He stops outside your door.

“Mhm?”

“Can I come in?”

“Sure.”

Elijah opens the door, but doesn’t fully enter your room. He looks you up and down before smiling. “I just thought you seemed sad earlier and wanted to check on you. Is everything okay?”

“Oh!” You put on a brave face to mask the tiredness you feel internally. “Yeah, I’m just out of sorts today. It’s nothing.”

“Are you sure? Because if someone’s bothering you, that’s something we can take care of.”

“No, no, I promise. It’s all just me. Just having a day.”

“You’re positive?” He asks for confirmation again.

“Have I ever lied to you, ‘Lijah?”

He looks down at his shoes, embarrassed. “No, you haven’t. I apologize for doubting you.”

“It’s okay,” you step closer to him, resting against the door frame. “No need to apologize. But I swear, I just… woke up on the wrong side of the bed or something. New Orleans is a loud city. I’m still adjusting.”

“Okay. Well, call if you need anything. Even the smallest thing.”

“I will.”

“Oh, and be careful in the off-chance that Marcel storms in here. There’s a fight brewing in the quarter.”

“I’ll keep an eye out.”

“Better yet, stay inside for the day. So you’re not in harm’s way at all.”

“Okay, ‘Lijah.”

He smiles at you, then kisses your hand. “Now, I need to neutralize my brother. But I needed to make sure our girl was okay first.”

“She’s okay. Go deal with him.”

Elijah straightens his collar before speeding off to no doubt defend his brother in a fight. You love Klaus, but man, does he get angry. And then from anger, comes pure rage, then absolute chaos. Once situations escalate that far, the whole block better hide if they want to keep their hearts in their chest. 

You sigh, thinking of the carnage that may come. You’re not sure you can deal with his anger issues today, especially not coupled with those of Marcel. Of all the days they have to fight, it’s the one that you might snap, too, if he raises his voice one more time. 

Suddenly, your bed looks like the perfect oasis away from the mess behind your door. A good pillow over the ears might prevent an impending meltdown. You crawl into it at once and let your body melt into the mattress. 

You hadn’t lied to Elijah, though you hadn’t given him the full truth, either. Yes, you are, in general, okay. Not necessarily today, but at that moment, you were. Also yes, you’re not feeling great today, partly because of all the city noise. And, finally, yes, most of it is just you and your body not in the mood to be awake. Though Klaus is contributing, just a little bit, to your mental distress today. Elijah would understand, of course, but then he’d have a talk with his brother about it, and you really didn’t want to burden either of them in that way, so you put on a smile and didn’t mention it. You’d bet Elijah knows the full truth, and knows why you won’t admit it, but he respects you if you don’t want to talk about it. That’s one of the reasons you love him so much. 

You get a couple hours of rest until your slumber is interrupted by a new knock on your door. It’s not soft, like Elijah’s, so it must be one of the younger two. 

“Oh no,” you mutter, wondering what it must be now.

“Y/N?” Rebekah’s voice comes from the other side. “Are you awake?”

“I am now.” 

She opens the door as you reply. “Oh what the bloody hell are you still doing in bed?”

“Sleeping.”

“Obviously! Come watch a movie with Kol and I! We’d love your company.”

“An actual movie, or the public display of violence happening outside in the quarter?”

“We haven’t decided yet!” She grabs your hand. “Come on!”

You yawn. “I’m gonna pass today, I’m not up for it.”

“Awh, Y/N! It won’t be as fun without you!”

“I have a headache, Bex,” you fib. 

“Do you want some blood for that?”

“Does that even work like that?”

She shrugs, “not sure.”

You cuddle into your pillow. “Another time, okay?”

The girl smiles, then leans forward to kiss your head. “Okay. If you change your mind, come find us.”

“I will. Thank you.”

“Dinner’s at seven. Will you be there?”

“Yeah,” you promise, “I should be better by then.”

You are not, in fact, better by then. If anything, your foul mood progressed into an actual headache within thirty minutes of Rebekah leaving. Shouts throughout the city managed to penetrate the thin glass of your windows, and you could hear almost everything as Klaus heckled the current king. For hours, it went on, until the sun went down and they assumedly put it off for another day. By seven o’clock, you were able to sneak in another nap, but you still felt way overstimulated from the day’s events. 

Not to mention the fact that you spent all day in bed. Sometimes, you’re overstimulated by too much going on, but today you partly did it to yourself by hiding away all day. The guilt of avoiding everyone weighs on your chest. Rebekah had invited you to a movie; Elijah went out of his way to check up on you, and you had more or less dismissed them both. A bitter taste sits in your mouth when you think about it. Water doesn’t wash it out.

Hopefully dinner will. 

For the first ten minutes, the night passes peacefully. Most of the conversation is focused between the meal and the movie the two had watched. The events of the day, seemingly, are left in the past.

But then, of course, Kol has to make a comment on something he overheard that he thought was funny. And that set Klaus off into a spewing of anger. He’s pissed at Marcel, but now, also, at Kol for bringing it up. Elijah puts his face in his hands, and Rebekah sends both a huge eye roll. 

What was a moment of much-appreciated silence is now a yelling match. After five minutes, you reach your breaking point. 

“Why do you feel the need to comment on that, Kol? It was so insignificant, but you’ve felt the need to bring it up, and now I’m reminded of how much Marcel has done to piss me off!”

“I didn’t mean to make you upset, bloody hell! I thought it was funny!”

“It wasn’t funny to me when he was spitting in my face! I-”

“Oh my god! Are you ever not arguing?!” You suddenly shout. 

The table goes silent and all eyes are on you. A needle could be dropped and it would be heard across the quarter. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologize quickly, embarrassed.

“Love,” Elijah puts a hand on your shoulder, “are you alright?”

At his touch, you flinch. He retracts his hand quickly, but doesn’t move his body away from its proximity to yours. 

Klaus, although upset at the interruption, notices this and calms a little. “Everything okay, Y/N?”

“I’m fine. It’s nothing.”

“That little outburst didn’t sound like nothing.”

“I’m just stressed.”

“Darling, what’s got you all upset? Tell us and we’ll sort it out now.”

“It’s no one, Kol, I’m just not feeling well.”

“Still have a headache, sweetheart?” Rebekah asks. 

“You have a headache?” Klaus butts in. 

The assortment of questions makes you drop your head. It nearly hits the table, but Elijah grabs your frame before you can fall. Tears form in your eyes, visibly. 

“I’m just really overstimulated today. I woke up weird and this city is loud, and then there was all the fighting all day long, and then I hid in my room all day, but then I felt bad about hiding, and now I’m making you all worried because I can’t get my shit under control!”

“And that’s your fault, how?” Elijah asks, “you cannot blame yourself for the way you feel.”

“But I need to handle my emotions better. I’m sorry.”

“No apologies necessary, love,” Klaus adds, “I certainly haven’t helped, fighting with children all day.”

“Niklaus,” Elijah warns, but Klaus doesn’t argue with him this time. 

“I should’ve stayed with you when you said you had a headache.”

“Don’t blame yourself either, Bex. It’s not your fault.”

“But we could’ve cuddled,” she frowns.

“It’s okay. I got a nap, and it helped a little. I just need to get used to my life being different now. None of you are at fault.”

“Nor are you,” the eldest reminds, “it’s been quite a day for us all.”

Kol clears his throat, “say, after dinner, if you feel up to it, we could all watch a movie and cuddle around you? I think some comfort is much needed.”

“Sure,” you agree, “but I might fall asleep during it.”

“That’s quite alright,” he smiles. He then stands up to hug you, but when his arms wrap around your neck, you freeze.

“Not yet, please. I’m still a bit stressed.”

He gives you a wink. “Of course, darling. Let me know when you’re ready.”

Klaus flicks his napkin across the table. He’s folded it into the shape of a heart. “We love you. You know that, right?”

You take the heart, kiss it, and put it in your pocket. “I do. I love you all, too. Thanks for understanding.”