#hopefully they don't make anyone else feel nauseous!!

[lazzarella]

Warich holding Klao back in the fight for reasons

[nobodybetterlookatme]

My boss said nobody is working tomorrow so she asked if I can come in anyway like 😭 I'm gonna die fr 😭

[literaila]

sick

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: satoru does not get the 'flu' that you have, or why you can't take megumi to the bookstore

warnings: symptoms of the flu, satoru is a bastard, cute kids

last part | next part

*

year two.

you:  can you take megumi to the bookstore? i can't make it 

"megumi wants me to ask you what you mean by 'i can't make it.'" 

your phone rings as soon as the message is sent, making you groan and roll over in bed. your palms are sweaty, and your body feels a bit like you got eaten alive. 

you probably shouldn't have answered, but honestly, how can you be expected to make smart decisions in this state?

you sigh into the phone. "it means that i can't make it, satoru." 

usually, his voice would make you smile but right now it just makes you want to die. and sleep for a couple... billion years, at least. 

"megumi wants me to ask what you mean by that?" satoru says again like you can't tell he's grinning. 

"just let me talk to him," you sigh, turning over on your side, which does nothing to ease the ache in your abdomen, by the way. you feel briefly nauseous like you might need the bowl you dragged under the covers, but it eases. you swallow bile. 

"what's wrong?" satoru asks, still teasing, and doesn't put megumi on the phone because he has never, not once in his life done anything without an argument. 

really, why do you put up with him?

"nothing." 

"well you just forgot that both of the kids are in school right now, like they are every day, so..." 

you close your eyes, pulling the covers up even higher. "oh. yeah." 

"did you get hurt, or something?" satoru asks, no concern evident in his voice, "going on another mission?" 

"no." 

satoru is silent, waiting. and you really truly do hate him. anyone else would just do you this favor. 

but not your best friend, no, he does nothing you ask. 

"i'm sick," you tell him, after a whole minute of silence. 

you can almost hear it as his brows furrow. "what?" 

"i have the flu or something," you cough into the receiver, hoping that it hurts his ear. 

"how?" 

"ugh," you groan, trying to rub the ache out of your jaw. "not all of us are immune to getting sick, you freak. will you take megumi to the bookstore for me? please?" 

"i don't think he wants to go with me." 

"satoru," you whine. 

"...and also i'm not allowed to enter the premises anymore." 

you sniff, wishing that you had more tissues, "what? since when?" 

"a couple weeks ago," he answers, nonchalantly. you can hear him moving around, probably wreaking havoc on the house you'll have to deep clean in a couple of days. 

not to mention your room. seriously, getting sick is the worst. 

"why?" 

"nuh uh," he says to you, very seriously. "that's between me and the children. they swore me to secrecy, and you're the one that's always going on and on about trust and how easily it's broken..." 

"you mean that you swore them to secrecy." 

"i bribed them," satoru agrees as if it's not an insane thing to say about your seven and eight-year-olds. 

"with what?!" 

"tsumiki took the offer of picking whatever takeout she wanted, and i think megumi was just glad i couldn't bring him anymore, the brat." 

you can hear his eyes roll, and the mention of the little boy's name reminds you of why you're having this discussion in the first place. 

"satoru... i really can't take him and i promised we'd go today," you groan into your pillow, voice feeling very sore. you shouldn't be talking to this insane man right now, you should be asleep. 

he pauses. "i can wear a disguise, i guess?" 

you groan again, hopefully, louder. "no, you're right about him not wanting to go with you." 

"rude." 

"i guess i'll just..." you attempt to sit up for the third time, feeling a bit dizzy as you do so. "i'll take some medicine and see if i feel better by the time they get out of school."

you're already mentally checking your medicine cabinet, not even sure if you have anything to help this ease by later in the afternoon. just some pain relief would be nice, but if you're contagious...

"what? no."

"well, you can't take him," you answer, still annoyed. 

"he doesn't need to go..." 

you hope that satoru can feel your scowl. "i promised." 

"he's a reasonable kid..." satoru says, clearly not remembering the brooding that happened the last time megumi had to re-read one of his books. "i think." 

you're silent. 

"look, i'll talk to him, okay?" he settles on, finally. "and i'll give him a couple hundred yen, it'll be fine. 

your mouth opens, and you cough, before, "no, satoru--" 

"get some rest," he exclaims, unpleasantly. 

"have him call me when you pick them up, satoru--" 

"don't die of the flu or anything." 

and then he's gone, and now you've got a headache, too. 

*

you think you might be dreaming when you open your front door.

the knocking had woken you up--you think--but with how long it took to walk from your room, into the hallway, and then the door, honestly, you might've fainted. or decided to take another nap against the wall. 

because once you open it, it feels like you've done this before.  

once again, three people are standing in front of you, two of them already arguing before you even take a step back to swing the door all the way open. 

the light hurts your head as you squint at the three of them. 

"it was my idea--" megumi is saying to satoru, grumpy, you know, from all day at school, and because he's talking to satoru.

"you're not taking all of the credit," satoru says back, "i bought everything." 

"'cause you're rich." 

"wow, so you're objectifying me?" 

"yes," megumi answers immediately, even though you doubt that he even knows what objectifying means (actually, you're pretty certain satoru doesn't even know). you cough, and it feels like something has died inside of you. 

the three of them turn towards you, tsumiki with a pleading look.

"it was my idea, okay?" megumi tells you before anyone else can say anything, and then he pulls tsumiki along with him as they move past you, through the door, into your apartment. 

yes, it's clear that satoru has raised them. 

"i said we should bring soup," tsumiki looks up at you, waiting for the praise she knows you'll give her. 

"our idea," megumi amends, easily. 

then they're out of your reach, going to sit on the very same couch they'd slept on a year ago, probably trying to escape satoru.

who you turn to, with a frown. his hair is so white it hurts to look at.

he points into your apartment, "those are devil spawn." 

you cough. "don't call them that." 

he raises a brow at you. probably at how soft your voice is, or the fact that you haven't hit him in the thirty seconds he's been standing there. 

it's a new record. 

"why are you here?" you rasp out, wiping some snot from your nose.

"no 'hello?'" 

"hello, satoru," your voice is retched, "why are you here?" 

"you look kinda rough, kid," 

you sniff, leaning against the doorjam. you could fall asleep here in an instant. "i'm sick, you jerk." 

"so this is sickness..." satoru says, intrigued, pretending to inspect you closely like you're some lab experiment. 

"i distinctly remember a cold that had you shaking on the floor of your dorm, begging shoko to heal you." 

satoru points a finger at you. "that was an uncurable illness." 

"and yet we're still stuck with you." 

satoru just smirks, pretending to be an angel he is not. 

you cough again and then sigh. it's cold with the door open. "are you just here to annoy me?"

"no," satoru shakes his head, giving you a ridiculous look, "well, i was telling megumi that you couldn't take him to the bookstore, cause of your disease or whatever," he ignores your weak protest, "and then i suggested that maybe we could see how you were feeling, bring you a little gift basket--" 

"no, he didn't!" megumi calls. 

satoru frowns. "devil. spawn." 

you snort, somehow amused at all of them, finally moving aside so he can walk through the door. 

satoru passes, suddenly brighter, but not before leaving an obnoxious kiss on your cheek--a resounding smack following. to which, you promptly wipe off. 

he frowns, and you push him so you can close the door. and then you trail into the kitchen, sitting down immediately before you fall. 

it's so embarrassing that just standing for too long has made you this lightheaded. 

satoru sets a bag on your kitchen counter and begins to unpack it. 

you try to see over his hands. "what did you bring me?" 

"you guys are so unappreciative," satoru tells you, pouting, "you only want me for my goods." 

"and the view," you answer, easily. "what'd you get?" 

megumi and tsumiki comes over to you, both of them giving you a short (megumi) and tight (tsumiki) hug. you've trained them well. 

"soup!" tsumiki tells you, grabbing the container from satoru's hands, despite his look. and then she walks over to your stove, looking in the cupboards for a pot to heat it in. 

because she's used to taking care of herself. they both are. 

"satoru," you nod to her, and he frowns, but reluctantly takes over, pushing tsumiki away from the stove. you're both familiar with this behavior from her. 

most days when you make dinner, tsumiki is trying to sneak into the kitchen, refusing to let you take care of it. 

she pouts a little now, but lets satoru handle the soup.

"gojo got you all of these," megumi tells you, bringing your eyes away from the other man, pushing a stack of pill bottles and medicine containers your way. "i don't think he knows what any of them are." 

"hey! that's a great selection," satoru pours the soup into a pot and sets it on the stove, returning to the counter with the three of you.

"this is a muscle relaxant," you tell him, frowning as you look at the packages--most of which are not for the flu. this is why he's not allowed to go to the store without you.

"well, your muscles need to relax, don't they?" satoru asks, dryly. "wish we could find some of those for your brain..." he mutters, afterward, and you throw the packet right at his face. 

"i found those little sour things you like," megumi continues, smirking just a moment at satoru. "they didn't have a big bag." 

"thanks, megs." 

"there's tissues, and chapstick if your lips get dry. and i picked out the cough drops because gojo wanted to get chocolate flavored or something--" 

"strawberry!" 

megumi rolls his eyes. 

tsumiki steps to your side again. "and we got flowers, but those are still in the car." 

"no, they're not," satoru suddenly has a bouquet of roses in his hands, almost covering his entire face. "they're right here." 

"when did you do that?" 

"when you guys were ridiculing my excellent taste," he pouts, white hair falling over his glasses. 

you laugh. 

"where's your vase?" he asks, going through every cupboard before finally listening to your answer. he settles on the other end of your kitchen, cutting and arranging the bouquet. 

tsumiki taps you. "are you feeling bad?" 

"just a little out of it, sweetie, don't worry." 

"did we get everything you need?" megumi chimes in, giving you a brief moment of eye contact before looking away. 

"yes. you guys did great, thank you both. you're very sweet." 

satoru ahems loudly. "and what about me?" 

"you could've done better." 

the kids both laugh and you push them into the living room, telling them to go sit down for a bit--knowing that satoru dragged them from school to the store to here without a break--and that you'll find a snack for them. 

and then you sigh, a bit nauseous from sitting up for so long. 

"do you need to lay down?" satoru peers at you, setting the bouquet on your table. "you look green." 

"thanks. how'd you learn to do that?" you gesture to the flowers which are arranged beautifully. honestly, you're surprised he didn't leave them on the counter for you to deal with. 

"i am a gentleman." 

"ha. no, seriously." 

"...i may, or may not have looked up what to bring someone who has the flu--and the flowers were extra, but!" he pauses as you laugh at him, resting your head against the cool counter. "i only had to do that because i don't get affected by stupid things like the flu or whatever you have." 

"of course," you whisper, closing your eyes. 

and then there's a hand on your forehead. "you're really warm." 

you press your head into his hand, which is also pleasantly cold. "yeah." 

"did you sleep all day?" 

you nod. 

"really? that's so lazy." 

you push him away, and he laughs, just loud enough for you to hear it. you open your eyes again when you hear him move away, watching him stir the soup on the stove. 

"you probably shouldn't have brought them here," you tell him, gesturing to the living room. "i don't want to get them sick." 

"they missed you," satoru shrugs. "you wouldn't want them to be sick alone." 

"yeah, but..." 

"i'm the worrier today," he interrupts, wrapping his hand around your wrist so he can pull you. "go lay down on the couch with them and i'll get your soup ready." 

"you'll burn it, you mean?" 

"as a punishment for all of the cruel things you say to me," and satoru smiles as he nudges the top of your head with his nose. 

his eyes are almost stern (almost, but not quite) as he watches you lay down on the couch, your hands gestured in defeat, and nods when you're settled in. 

when he walks away, you call, "bring us some water!" 

there's no response, but you know he'll do it. 

tsumiki just slightly nudges you with her hand and you smile, opening your arms for her to cuddle under. 

megumi doesn't do the same, but you don't fail to notice when he scooches just a little bit closer to you both, his thigh touching yours. 

your head still hurts and even the smell of the soup is making you a bit sick, but you'll deal with it as long as they're all here. 

*

you're arguing with satoru about dinner, several days later, when tsumiki and megumi sneeze at exactly the same time. 

it took a couple of days for you to recover, but now you're better than ever, happily fighting with satoru over the stupidest things and watching over both of the children for any defects that happened while you were out of sorts. 

they're mostly okay. 

but now the both of you look over to them, your eyes wide, satoru almost wincing. 

and then you look back to him, already scowling. 

"hey, it was just a sneeze," he tells you, quickly, already knowing what you're about to say. 

"i told you--" 

and then he sneezes, taking a step away from you. 

you groan, giving up on dinner. it looks like the next few days are going to be spent coddling all of your children. 

*

next part

[mj-iza-writer]

Trigger Warning... mentions of periods.

The vein of my existence. -MJ

"Um Master", Whumpee peaked in.

"What do you need?", Whumper didn't bother to look up from his computer work.

"My chores are all done, but my period just started is there anyway I could lay on the couch", Whumpee clutched their stomach, "I feel really nauseus and the cramps are really bad. I just threw up also."

Whumper looked up from his work, "that's fine, do you have everything you need?"

"Yes sir, I still have pads from last month", Whumpee sighed as they laid on the couch, "I was cleaning the bathroom floor when I felt really nauseated, then I threw up into the toilet. I finished cleaning and felt some cramps, so I checked myself."

Whumper nodded, "I was wondering when you would start. You've been acting weird the past few day."

"I have?", Whumpee looked up worriedly.

Whumper nodded, "nothing bad, just normal behavior for when you're about to start", Whumper grinned, "I know it's nothing you can control so I patiently deal with it."

"Oh sorry", Whumpee looked down.

"It's fine", Whumper looked back at the computer, "I've got a face time call coming in."

Whumpee nodded, knowing that meant to be quiet.

Whumpee listened to Whumper's meeting. They closed their eyes a few times before Whumper had finished.

Whumper closed the computer when the FaceTime was over.

"Are you going to sleep over there?", Whumper grinned.

"No just trying to find the awkward pose that alleviates the pain and nausea", Whumpee opened their eyes, "you turned off everything right? Even the camera?"

"Yes sir, mom, everything is off", Whumper sighed and looked over.

"You know it's amazing. I'm so nauseous, and yet I'm craving chocolate", Whumpee sighed, "why do I always crave chocolate?"

Whumper reached down the side of his seat and pulled out a few tiny chocolate bars.

He smiled as he chucked each one at Whumpee.

Whumpee sat up after the last one hit their face, "ouch", Whumpee sighed, then picked one to eat, "thanks."

"With the sacrifice of my chocolate, the beast has been fed", Whumper mocked.

Whumpee grinned, "I eat more of your chocolate than you do."

"Yeah, I know you sneak into my stash and help yourself", Whumper watched Whumpee eat the candy, "I should say try to sneak, because you don't do a good job at hiding it."

Whumpee giggled a little while opening it.

"Ow... oww", Whumpee grimaced.

"What happened?", Whumper frowned.

"I feel like I'm being stabbed in my abdomen and my pelvis. Then my hips feel like they're being pulled apart", Whumpee laid back down, "this sucks."

"Did you take anything for it?", Whumper sighed.

"No Master, I just finished my chores and came to you", Whumpee grunted, "hmmm, these cramps are coming on strong."

Whumper got up and went to the kitchen.

After a few minutes, he came back carrying some medicine and a cup of ginger alle.

"Take these", Whumper handed the medicine over, "hopefully that will reduce the pain. The ginger should help with your nausea."

Whumper left again... this time bringing back a heating pad. They plugged it in and handed it Whumpee.

After he felt Whumpee was set up properly, he went back to his computer.

"Thankyou Master", Whumpee looked up, "may I ask a question though?"

"That's fine."

"I guess two questions. How do you know what to give me to help? And, why are you so nice to me when I get my period?"

"Well, I had a mom and two sisters growing up. My mom always said, "those periods are one of the worst things a female has to go through. Some don't have it as bad as others, but it is difficult for anyone to go through. Take care of the ladies in your life and make sure you give them and easier time during their period week."

Whumper grinned, "though I'm sure my mom meant if I had a wife and daughters. Not a slave. My mom taught me how to help her and my sisters and what things they needed."

Whumpee nodded.

"Go ahead and rest, let me know if you need anything else", Whumper looked back at their computer, "I need to get back to work."

Whumpee nodded, "thankyou", they whispered.

"You're welcome", Whumper smiled.

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.

@villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived @sacredwrath @porschethemermaid @monarchthefirst

@generic-whumperz @bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13 @notpeppermint @cyborg0109

@idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots @whumpbump @everythingsscary @skittles-the-whumpee

@expressionless-fr @theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee @candleshopmenace @whumpanthems

@lavndvrr @ivymyers @starfields08000 @a-living-canvas @lumpofsand

@watermeezer @indigoviolet311 @whumpy-mountains @3-2-whump @risk606

[possibilistfanfiction]

Butch Bea with thoughts around top surgery? (if it's not a consideration for her/them totally no worries) would be interesting to hear Bea deciding and/or confiding in Ava abt it - your writing of feelings is always so good tysm

[ok if ppl don't want this in the butch bea canon then that's fine BUT if ppl do... this is sweet. i love this prompt]

//

you've seen beatrice come out of surgery before, but this is different. her eyes flutter open reluctantly, although she'd already woken up for the nurses before they let you come back to the pacu. you're sure she'll be nauseous, because anesthesia always makes her feel sick, but when she finally manages to look at you steadily, she smiles.

'hi baby,' you say, and you're in the same kind of sterile hospital as you have been before, when things have been bad, and scary, or hard. but this — this — is so, so beautiful.

'hello ava,' beatrice says, her voice rough from being intubated, hilariously formal for being so obviously high.

'how you feeling?'

'pretty good.'

'yeah?'

'a little sick to my stomach. but — everything went okay?'

you run a hand through her soft hair, kiss her forehead. 'it went really great.'

her smile breaks your heart a little: you know, now, more than anyone else in the world but her, how long she denied herself this peace.

'your surgeon said she'd be by soon, and you'll be able to see.' she leans into your hand with a sigh, and you rub your thumb along her cheekbone. 'you can rest while we wait for her.'

she's asleep almost immediately, her long lashes and her freckles and when she had brought top surgery up, months ago, with shaky hands, you had held her in your arms and held her jaw in your palm. 'there are very few things that could make me love you less,' you had told her. 'this will make me so proud of you, and so, so happy for you.' she had nodded and kissed you, salty, relieved tears down her cheeks. 'my only condition is that, if you feel like it, you wear shirts as rarely as possible at home. or out, i'm not opposed to that either.' and she had laughed and you're more sure, every single day, that the world isn't supposed to exist to harm or to hurt.

you hold her hand in yours, update your sisters and friends that bea is awake and fine and loopy, promise lilith that you'll send some good videos of her soon, and a few minutes later wake her when her surgeon knocks on the door.

'i can see?' she asks, excitement evident even through the fog of anesthesia, and you love her.

'we want to keep the padding and compression on for the most part,' her surgeon explains, but then she smiles. 'but yes, for a minute.'

bea nods and you help her sit up a little in bed. you're no stranger to surgical dressings and drains at this point, but you've always found them necessary at best, gross and painful at worst. but you watch beatrice get to look at the curved scars that span her chest, the bandages over her re-grafted nipples — you watch her entire face light up and her shoulders set and she grins and starts to cry. you look too, and she is so, so beautiful; you feel tears burn at your eyes too and then she looks at you and laughs.

her surgeon smiles too. 'your swelling well go down, and the drains will come out in about a week, hopefully.'

'it'll be even better?' she asks, disbelief and awe.

you squeeze the top of her hand, the deep reverence in her voice filling your whole body with unspeakable joy.

/

it takes a few weeks for her to be back on her feet, a few months until she gets to go surfing and to the dojo again. but you make sure she's comfortable and order all the food she wants; you wash her hair for her and empty her drains. you are no stranger to being cared for — by beatrice, with tenderness — and, when it's your turn, you realize, time and again, that there's love there that moves heaven and earth.

'ugh.' lilith rolls her eyes when bea walks out of the hall from your bedroom, joggers slung low on her hips, drying her hair. all of the swelling has gone down and her nipples have fully healed.

'hello, lilith,' bea says. 'so nice of you to drop in uninvited and then complain about brunch.'

'oh, i wasn't complaining about brunch. i like these pastries.' she waves the pistachio croissant she took off of your plate around for effect. 'i'm complaining because i feel like i'm going to have to see your abs for years now, all the time.'

'i'm so very sorry,' bea says, definitely not sorry at all. lilith has been in and out every few days to check up on bea, so it's all a very silly charade at this point.

'i am happy,' lilith says, taking a bite of the croissant and then continuing, her mouth full, just to bother bea, 'that you're doing so well. and feeling so happy in yourself.'

'thank you,' beatrice says, her strong back turned to you as she makes both of them tea very precisely. 'chew with your mouth closed, please.'

[impossiblyizzy]

Untitled Vampire Romcom | update #2

I finished reshuffling act 1!! It feels alot smoother now, but moving on to act 2 got me stuck again. I know most of the events I want to happen, but not necessarily where the characters should be emotionally (or geographically) for each event. I'm trying to balance the Romance plot with the Bad Guys plot - I don't want to fall into the Twilight trap and have all the external conflict appear in the third act of the story. But at the same time, I don't want the vampireness of the story to overshadow the romcomness of it.

[image description: a photo of a road in the Lake District leading into a cluster of pine trees. The sky is grey and cloudy. /end id]

If anyone else is interested in writing romance (or longer fanfics) I highly recomend Romancing the Beat by Gwen Hayes - it's an excellent breakdown of story structure for romance. I wrote down all the act 2 beats, plus all the plot events I know I want, and arranged them all to try and peice it together.

What really helped though was going on a sponaneous trip to the Lake District with my girlfriend - partly because I got to visit the setting of my book, and partly because the long car journeys gave me lots of time for reading and thinking. The themes of the story are definitely becoming clear to me - it's about indentity, belonging, and Secret Third Things.

Here's an extract from a scene where Jackie and Darrell talk about the taste of human blood (as you do).

‘You’d think it would take some getting used to,’ he remarks, ‘but the moment you wake up as a vampire it’s all you can imagine wanting.’          ‘So you don’t miss real food?’ ‘No,’ he says. ‘Well, I have some fond memories of steak and kidney pie and the treacle puddings our cook used to make. But the thought of eating anything now makes me nauseous.’ And is it really so much to give up, to have what Darrell has? Now that I know what it feels like to fly, I want to do it again. I could leave the Lakes and never come back. I could soar over Europe, over the Atlantic, explore the mountains and valleys of North America. Darrell is studying me. ‘You’re a fascinating young woman, Jackie.’ Before I can say anything he sits up straight, tripping over his words in his haste to correct himself. ‘Young - young person. My apologies.’ ‘Don’t worry about it,’ I say. It hurts, actually. That this centuries-old vampire can do better than my own parents.

I feel like I'm in a better position to crack on with act 2 now. I'm still not one hundred percent clear on the order and setting of act 3, but at least it's easy to structure so hopefully?? I should get through the rest of the draft without getting too stuck??? Act 2 is definitely going to need some reshuffling in the edit, I know that already. And I need to give some thought to my settings and take some more time to explore the Lake District through my writing, because I do love it there. Although it doesn't help that I decided to write a book that mostly takes place at night.

tagging @feeisamarshmallow and @stellarinuschronicles :)

[timeoverload]

This whole day has been a shit show. I accomplished most of what I needed to get done thankfully. I did get help so that I could go eat and the eye coordinator helped me peel pack some stuff. I did the rest by myself.

There were 33 cases because there was an add-on. I forgot that a lot of them were specialty cases so that was stressful because I had so much to sterilize. I couldn't even use my station because there was too much shit piled up on it so I had to pull up another cart. I kept forgetting things because I had too much going on. The last 2 surgeries got done right at 5 so I decided to stay and clean up even though I'm not supposed to stay late. I didn't want to leave anyone else with a mess because my area in decontam was a disaster at the end of the day. I didn't leave until 5:30 since there was a lot to do.

I am so exhausted. I was getting dizzy and nauseous earlier because I had to move too fast. My leg is not working very well so that makes it really difficult to do anything. I am going to be sore tomorrow. I don't want to do anything right now. I need a back rub. I think I am going to go to bed early. Hopefully I feel better in the morning.

I hope everyone else has a great day tomorrow. 💖💖💖

[morroodle]

Towards the end of day 4 of top surgery recovery and figured I'd share how it's going. Idk if this can help anyone else but its at least going to help me. Prepare for out of order chaos

The pain isn't too bad! Like yea it hurts but I got used to it and I can take pain meds to help

Getting out of bed is a pain in the ass though. Going from laying down to sitting up is HARD (it's definitely not because I have no abs)

Speaking of pain: the drains. They don't hurt by themselves but when I shift wrong and they tug? Not fun. Not sure how to explain it but pinching isn't inaccurate

Drain fluid. Does not smell good. It's not a very strong smell and you get used to it pretty fast but it's still not fun

I also. Do not smell good. God I can't wait to shower

My mom spilled the drain fluid on me. Twice. Ew.

It's fuckn ITCHY. Always just below where I can reach through the bandages. I am going to kill someone.

Other itches are annoying too. They may not be covered by bandages but with such limited mobility it's annoying. I got a back scratcher but those don't help much when you can barely move your arms

I've probably been moving more than I'm supposed to

Love it when I move wrong and suddenly there's pain and a very suspicious warm feeling and I can't check to see what's wrong because of the bandages

Bendy straw my beloved <333 the $20 ninjago cup I got from legoland is finally making itself worth it

The first day I was incredibly nauseous. I could barely sit up for a few minutes, much less stand. Made eating dinner... not easy.

Day 2 I was feeling great! Even touched some grass!

Day 3 morning: nearly threw up when changing my shirt. I didn't but oh god it was not fun. I've never been nauseous like that before, I was hot inside but my skin was cold and my mom said the color very literally drained from my face. Made me stuck in a chair for like 20 minutes until I could stomach going back to bed.

I'm fine now (probably)

I've been enjoying being taken care of. I'm lucky enough to have a very good support system and I appreciate it. I also appreciate always getting my pic of food >:D

God I want a hug. I'm gonna get so squished once I'm healed and I fully accept my fate

Mentioning again my hatred for the drains. I was very scared of them going into this, I didn't like the idea of having tubes both in and out of my body. I don't really care about that now, I don't see it and I've gotten used to it, but god they are so annoying

I'm not nearly as tired as I was expecting! Sure I'm a bit sleeper than normal but it's really not that bad.

I'm bored

I wanna draw ;-; I havent had motivation or ideas for weeks but the moment it becomes inconvenient? Release the floodgates!

I haven't actually noticed the lack of boobs much yet. Maybe it's because they're still bandaged and I can't see or maybe it's because I live in my mastectomy pillow but I haven't really had a rush of emotions yet

It's kinda weird. I was expecting to feel so much but everything so far just feels so... normal? It's not normal but I've gotten used to it. Its like I'm waiting for my emotions to catch up

That being said there is one thing I've noticed and definitely felt things about. I had a pretty big chest and there used to be quite a dip between them and now there's just... nothing. It's flat. I'm sure this is just a fraction of what I'll feel when I get the bandages off for the first time but this tiny bit that I can see and feel right now is... wow. It's weird. God I can't wait for the rest of it

That's all I can think of for now, I'll keep yall updated on how things go from here and hopefully this can help someone! I know most of this has been complaining but I am not trying to discourage anyone from this, I've just only experienced the bad parts so far. I'm sure I'll make a similar post listing all the positives once I get there but for now things aren't very fun

[ciaossu-imagines]

Hello, hello, my lovelies. I'm about ready to head off to bed because I have to work early. For those wondering, my ask box is down to four asks (two fics to write and two match-up requests). I work straight out for the next four days in some pretty long and brutal shifts, so honestly I'm not going to have the chance to sit down and write much of these until Monday night, but by the end of next week, all the asks will be cleared out of the inbox, all dm's will be answered, and I'll be reopening the ask box, posting some prompts, and leaving on probably a three week to a month long sabbatical (will probably still pop in weekly to reply to dm's and chattering), after which I'll come back to answer all the asks I'll have hopefully received! I'll be using that time to work on a commission and some writing I'll be posting to my other blog and to AO3 (and yes, I will link it here on the blog for anyone interested).

Anyways, my lovelies, because I know I won't really have the chance to seriously write for a couple days, I'm letting the inbox chatter resume a little. Mostly because I had the most insane but sweet dream last night about marrying one of my fictional others. For those wondering why I call that insane, it's because the older I get, despite having been engaged twice before, the more sure I get that marriage isn't for me (on top of being someone who has extreme difficulty even living with someone else full time because it means I never get true alone time or the chance to really be authentically myself, I admit that while it's sweet to imagine and play out in fiction and daydreams, the idea of having to walk down the aisle at a wedding with everyone staring at me...the idea of realistically having to do that makes me so nauseous I can feel the bile in my throat). Anyways, it actually made me remember something kind of cringe from my earlier fandom days! Does anyone else remember that website where you could marry your favourite fictional characters? Because I sure as hell do and while the certificates have gotten lost in the ethers of the internet, I became a bigamist because I married several of my fictional others on that website, including Kusakabe and Skull, who last night's dream was about (and our wedding was insane and wonderful and included having our guests witness us having two tattoo artists work on tattooing our wedding bands on us at the same time).

So my question to all you lovelies! Did anyone else marry their fictional others on that website? Or has anyone thought out their weddings with their fictional others or crushes? And if so...please tell me about them!!! Please feel free to go on anon, or off anon, in the inbox, using as many messages as you need to send, and rant all about it. Or submit an long and lovely one using the submission feature! I would love to hear all the details! And for anyone worried about sharing because they're married to one of my fictional others, don't be! We're sibling spouses in that case, my loves, and that just means we're automatically besties and I support the fuck out of that marriage.

[oakedredwine]

Order :

Hello, I would like a Death Note L Lawliet & Light Yagami with a number 31 (isekai'd reader who's unreadable), long, and some angst and some fluff :]

Here you go :). I made it so you could read it like a story or one shots for each character! I also added Misa (you don't have to read that part, or it could be platonic). Hope you enjoy.

Intro

You were watching Death Note for the second time. It was late at night and you were wrapped up in a blanket on your bed while clenching a small part of the blanket with your fist as Light and L sat beside each other looking at their monitor screens. They had just entered the Kira task force building, and you were unbelievably tense because Light, aka Kira, had been sitting--no handcuffed--right beside L the entire time. You, admittedly, were cheering on both Kira and L depending on the situation, but this was one of the times that they both wholehearted infuriated you, though it was somewhat of a comedic relief. At this point in time, there was nothing with serious weight going on, just them in the task force building, working. The camera angles suddenly stopped changing, and as time went on, it seemed more and more like you were watching them on a live video. There were no more jump cuts to the future or internal monolog, just the sounds of keys being hit on a keyboard. The occasional glances between the two showed how tense they were, as well. You had been watching for quite some time, about to Google if this happened to anyone else, when one of the monitors beside them flickered oddly. Once the screen turned back on, a bright light refracted into your view as if hitting the camera you were watching from. Suddenly, you felt something pull you through the screen. Oddly enough, the screen wasn't solid, it felt more like a cold ray of light, like a polar opposite to the sun's rays. Once you were pulled though the screen to the otherside, you felt nauseous.

The nausea quickly subsided and you became aware of your surroundings. You were in the taskforce building, quickly you looked around to see that you had pulled Light and L to the ground after coming out of the monitor, their chain had gotten caught on you. Now was the part where you had to explain yourself, eventhough you couldn't, so you remained silent.

"What the hell?!" Light called out. You looked between the two, trying to formulate words, but soon got stuck in your own head.

What just happened to me? Does the Death Note still work on me? How am I supposed to explain this? Is this an isakai'd situation?

You almost gasped at the thought, but then L spoke up.

"This is quite the situation. Who are you?" L inquired with a much calmer and softer tone than Light. This made you roll around the idea of a fake name.

"Oh, yes. I'm sorry. I'm still quite startled myself, but I'm f/n." You quickly responded with the name of someone you knew back home. L seemed as if he was trying to analyze you.

"I presume you don't know what just happened either?" He asked as you stood up, fixing your hair and flattening your clothes to hopefully make it look like you weren't previously in your bed.

"Nope, I haven't got a clue." You said, slowly bringing yourself to look into his eyes. This made L wonder.

If they're lying, what merit is there in lying about not knowing what was going on? This obviously isn't a realistic scenario. It defies logic. It's not unlikely that this person wouldn't understand the situation. Even though I still cannot shake the feeling that they're not telling me something.

You noticed his stare and realized how odd it was to not hear his internal monologue. Light was already standing, glaring you down suspiciously, and L was still on the floor, both were lost in thought.

You outstretched a hand to L, and fluttered your fingers to catch his attention.

"Come on, we can figure this out at a desk or something. Not the floor." You smiled a little as he looked at your hand and you a couple of times before reluctantly accepting your aid.

Once you reached a table, and the 'mandatory' snacks were layed out, they began to ask questions.

"Where did you come from?" Light asks, likely curious about how this place was linked to where you came from. There was a small moment where you wanted to abuse your knowledge of the show and psych them out, but it would only make you suspicious, so you resisted the urge.

"My bedroom. I was about to sleep." You answered concisely, feeling like you were in a very important interview, but as more questions were asked, it felt more like an interrogation.

"What's your full name?" This question startled you to the point you didn't quite catch who asked it. It made you question whether Light could gain anything by killing you.

"My name is f/n l/n." You combined the fake first name with your real last name, therefore if they choose to call you by your last name, you'd still respond quite easily.

"Can I ask a few questions now?" You wanted to divert from their load-bearing questions. They nodded.

"What's your name, the two of you, I mean? And why are you cuffed together?" You asked, pointing to their cuffs. You listened to their answers despite already knowing why. Then, you brought up a question to yourself:

Should I tell them I'm from a different world?

You already knew how the anime ended, and some events that happened around this time, but it was risky either way.

"Okay, this is my last question. Where do we go from here? I don't think I'm getting back through that screen, and I can tell that I'm quite far away from home, since the times are different." They both looked at you, and you looked between them.

"Might I propose that I stay here and aid in research on Kira? I know quite a bit about him." You said, holding back the urge to fidget.

"Him?" Light and L ask in sync. You wanted to bite your tongue, but you dicided to make it up on the spot.

"Well, I have a theory. There's a few Kiras in the world, one's bound to be male." You proposed the idea of doing research with them again, and Light was the first one to accept. Once he did, you almost choked on air.

He's definitely trying to kill me.

"If Light is fine with it, I guess I am too." L muttered. You smiled at them. In that moment, Matsuda came down the stairs humming and stopped to ask who you were.

"Oh, they're a guest. Here, temporarily, to solve the Kira case." L said.

You nodded and began to set up a workspace. Almost as soon as you started working, you felt your energy draining. It had already been past midnight when you were isakai'd, and over 30 minutes have passed since the interrogation was done. You rubbed your eyes.

"You're tired, yes? You mentioned the times were different and you were trying to sleep before. There are rooms upstairs if you'd like to sleep now." L told you. You smiled at him before spinning around in your chair. Once it made a complete turn-around, you hopped up waving.

"Thanks. I'll be back down in a couple of hours." You said.

"Take as much time as you need." Light said before you headed up the stairs. You looked at the top of the stairs, no cameras. You didn't see any monitors viewing the top of the stairs while you were working, either.

You pulled out your phone to see if you could send and received messages though this world, but you couldn't. Pocketing the phone, you continued to a room.

L. Lawliet

After getting some rest, you began to work again, typing away, looking up census data for the numbers of inmates who died, times of the killings, etc. etc. Anything to make it seem like you were doing diligent work. You noticed L staring at you, likely analyzing to see if he believed you were Kira. He couldn't analyze you though; you and the situation at hand were just too bizarre.

You slowly looked over to him, and smiled, "Can't focus?" He didn't respond. You sighed, still smiling.

"I know. I'm just so charming." You looked over this time to see that he finally snapped out of his thoughts.

"Yes, if you believe so." He said, returning to research. You chuckled a bit. You began to work as well, but noticed that every few seconds L was staring off into space.

"Hey, L. Why not take a quick break. It might help you focus. Just 5 minutes, what do you say?" He turned to you, looking to the various numbers on his screen before turning back to you.

"That may increase my productivity. I guess I will take a break." He said, though he seemed to continue thinking about working while taking a break.

"It's not a break if your thinking about work, L." You said, standing up.

"Here," you said, holding a hand out again, just like when you were first pulled here. He took it with less hesitation this time.

"What do you plan on doing?" He asked. You answered his question with one of your own.

"Do you know how to waltz?" You saw as he shook his head.

"Can't say that I do." You pulled him to a clear area.

"Good, then this'll take your mind off of work." You put his hand on your hip, and his other interlocked with your hand. He seemed to be flustered.

"Now, follow my steps. Like this: 1, 2, 3." You counted a rhythm, and he followed. You broke out into a smile again.

"Your doing great, now were going to shift, so turn on this step and sweep your left leg..." You made sure to move slow so he could follow easily.

"Great job, let's add some of this..." You gently pulled him close to you, then his hand above his head. He paused, almost stiff. Your faces were close, but you didn't let the warmth of your face direct your actions.

"Spin, darlin'." You said a wider smile blooming onto your face. He spins drawing outward, and then you reel him inward as he slows from spinning. You move your hand onto the small of his back.

"Careful." You said in a way that sparked amorous feelings in-between the two of you. You then leaned over, as you dipped him towards the floor.

"See? You weren't worried about work." You said, pulling him up to stand again. He hummed.

"You, l/n, are quite bold." He said, wondering to his desk once more.

"I don't know what you mean by that." You said, pretending to be oblivious, to which L could not determine if you were or not.

Light Yagami

You headed towards the kitchen for a hot drink, and crossed paths with light along the way. In this lighting, he seemed even more handsome.

Calm down, he murders people. Don't be dumb. He sees you as a target as well.

As if sensing your tension, he spoke in a calm tone.

"Hey, f/n. How are you doing with this new work and all?" He smiled. You were trying to determine if this was mindless chit-chat or a scheme to find out more about you.

"Oh, was it too informal to use your first name? My apologies." He said, a hand over his chest, which you know is sort of a signature stance for him.

"Oh, it's quite alright. Infact, I prefer you to use my first name." You really wanted him to use your fake name over your actual last name, it gave you chills.

He looked at you, eyes widened a little, as if he were taken aback, slightly. He hadn't realized that you had another reason for having a preference for your first name, he just presumed you were flirting. You took a small sip of your drink, licking it from your lips afterward.

"Oh." You said, suddenly grabbing his attention. You set your drink on the table and walked towards him. You brought a hand to his face tracing a thumb over his lips, his breath hitched.

"Stay still." You said, focused. You swiped your thumb over his bottom lip again, wiping away the whipped cream from a coffee. He noticed.

You idiot! They were just cleaning your face, don't get the wrong idea.

"There." You huffed out, wiping your hand with a napkin.

"I finally got it. You werent being very still in the beginning." You chuckled. He looked at you, bewildered.

Do they not understand what they just did? Maybe they're trying to psych me out. Or maybe they're just oblivious.

"Well, I've got to go back to work. See ya, Light." You walked away, with Light still unable to grasp the situation.

Misa Misa

It wasn't long before the anime began to progress as it normally would, only you were in the picture now. In this moment, you were face-to-face with Misa.

This is bad. Can she see my name right now? She'll know I'm lying.

But Misa, herself, was conflicted. At first, worried you'd take Light away from her.

"F/n? Well, how about we become friends?" She asked, in a hyper tone. You nodded. Light and L seemed to watch, worried. Light and L were worried that Misa might wisk you away from them.

"Sure." You said, voice wavering as she pulled you down town.

"Come on, let's go out!" She pulled you into multiple shops, making you carry her stuff, choose wich outfit is cuter, and test out makeup. You walked out, sighing heavily.

That's not really my thing, but it was fun.

You heard laughter from two figures in front of you. You looked up to see Light and L laughing at you, not in the rude way, but in the lighthearted chuckle kind of way.

"Misa did that too you?" Light laughed with a clear smile.

"You look tired." L said with a faint chuckle and a wide smile.

You huffed, "Hey! We had fun! didn't we, Misa?"

Misa looked at you, taking in the view. You held stacks of boxes, multiple bags, and makeup was smudged on your arms and faintly on your face--all a result of Misa's shenanigans. She laughed as well.

"We had so much fun!" Misa yelled, hugging you bybthe waist, shouting with joy. You couldn't help but laugh at her chaotic energy. You lost balance and you both fell to the ground, Misa hovering over you.

"S-sorry, Misa." You said so with a stutter.

"It's okay f/n! Let's go home now and relax." Misa stood up, offering her hand. You smiled, taking it.

"Thanks Misa, for being me friend." You said, a pensive smile on your face.

She looked back at you, "Hey. Thanks for being a good friend." She said, returning your smile with a kiss on the cheek. You blushed red.

That's my first kiss.

"Okay, you both done?" Light asked. You could sense a hint of jealousy, but he quickly covered it with a gentle smile.

"Yes, its getting quite dark." L mention, looking at the sun setting below the horizon behind you and Misa.

"Okay, let me check the time" You said, checking your phone. The cool light of the phone screen refracted into your eyes, it felt familiar, and contrasted the sun's warm and golden light behind you. You swallowed, hard.

TW::SLIGHT ANGST!

"Hey, guys..." You called for them. They both looked at you, awaiting further explanation, but before you could answer, you were pulled back into the screen. It niped at you, giving you cold chills. They looked worried, like they'd miss you.

Once you were pulled through the other side, you saw how defeated the three looked without you. You tried to push yourself back through, tapping, pinching, and shaking your phone. Nothing worked, though. Instead, they slowly faded into the background, and their internal monologue returned. They quickly forgot you and continued the anime.

Lingering feelings of unsettled nerves twisted your stomach.

How could cupid be so cruel?

(I hope you don't mind the song lyric at the end, I thought it was fitting).

[auncyen]

"It's okay. I, uh, I've been told how I look right now."

You immediately felt a pit open up in your stomach. They hadn't seen for themself how they looked? There was no way this could be Body Craft, then, at least not the way you knew it. No one in their right mind would Body Craft themselves without being able to track the process. But 'right now' implied there had been a Change. Odile had caught that too, her expression torn between wariness and alarm.

"I... don't think this is Body Craft?" the stranger continued, their voice pitching upward with uncertainty. "I didn't Craft myself. Can Body Craft... fix..." They trailed off for a few seconds, only finishing their question with a single word pitched so high it sounded like they'd had to squeeze it out: "me?"

Oh crab, oh crab oh crab oh crab. 'Person who'd had extreme Body Craft used on them without their consent' was way outside the possibilities you'd considered for the stranger. Just the idea of it was terrifying. Who would do that? Who could do something like that?

...The King? Had the King done it, made them look like the stars he loved? But why? No, more importantly, you could believe the King might have been able to do such extreme Body Craft--his own body had been an example of it, and he could use Time Craft when that should have been impossible--but how did you help this person now?

"Neither of us are experts in Body Craft," Odile said, stepping in when you struggled for words. "Someone at the House might be able to help you better."

...Right. Right, Odile had the right idea. You had to keep calm if you were going to help this person. You didn't have to have all the answers right away. It was just. All the lectures and readings you'd had to do about the potential complications of Body Craft (safe as long as you were being careful! and if you weren't, Change) before being allowed to start even the smallest of changes made you feel nauseous at the idea of such a drastic transformation being forced on anyone. You took a breath and squared your shoulders, forcing a reassuring smile on your face. You had no idea when the stranger might decide to face you, after all. "We could take you to the House, if you want?" Hopefully there was something that could be done with Body Craft, and even not, surely the House could help with their situation somehow. "If you're worried about villagers bothering you--"

"Forget it," the stranger said. "I can't go back to that blinding House."

...What? Underneath the crackling, their voice--

M'dame rarely touched anyone, but now she put a hand on your shoulder. Without thinking, you'd started moving to circle the tree yourself. "Isabeau," she said quietly. "You heard that too, didn't you? 'Blinding?'" Her eyes were trying to bore through the tree trunk. She raised her voice to talk to the stranger again.

"Why can't you return to the House? Did someone there hurt you?" M'dame's voice stayed level for the most part. You doubted the stranger could tell how upset she was, unable to see the tightness in her face. "If it was the King, I'll make any oath you want to assure you he's dead. If it was someone else..."

It had to be the King, though. No way a Housemaiden could do this--but you caught your shock and held it back. You didn't even know the House of Dormont that well, only Mirabelle. And while you were lucky to be a Defender of Vaugarde in relatively peaceful times, aspiring monarch aside, your training had covered cases where Sadnesses were caused by twisted family ties or authorities abusing the trust placed in them. The idea was upsetting, but you couldn't rule it out until you heard more.

Though you were confused about one thing. No one in Dormont or the House had reported a missing person. Even if there'd been abuse being covered up, why hadn't this person's absence been noticed?

"No, I believe you, Odile," the stranger said. "And I wasn't hurt by a Housemaiden, if that's what you're thinking. It's just...I can't explain. It's too hard to explain." Their voice suddenly picked up with energy. "Teehee, it's such a tall tale it scrapes the sky! You'd wonder why you bothered listening to a silly star to begin with! Besides, all you need me to do is leave so people can have their Favor Tree again, right? Fine by me! I've been meaning to leave this dinky town for what seems forever! Check back tomorrow and all you'll see is my meteor trail!"

Odile spoke bluntly over the giggling: "You've been here for days. Either you don't want to leave, or you're finding that difficult as well."

The stranger's laughter died out as quickly as a smothered fire. Odile glanced at you with barely restrained frustration before she tried again.

"Try us. Tell us what happened to you. Time Craft was supposed to be impossible and yet we've all seen proof of it, so we'll keep an open mind."

"Please?" you asked, when the silence on the other side of the Tree continued. "We'd really like to help, if we can."

"Even though I'm a strange star?"

"You're a person as well, aren't you?" Odile asked.

There was uneasy breathing on the other side of the Tree. "...I wonder." There was silence, and then a soft crackle, as if they were clearing their throat... or maybe swallowing their nerves? "Would you believe the King's Curse wasn't the only instance of Time Craft in Dormont?"

"Someone else was using Time Craft?" you ask. Odile's book had drifted from being held high near her chest, ready to be used for combat, to being held comfortably low by her waist in polite neutrality. Now it flipped open to a section you knew just from where it lay in the book: the observations and theories she'd made about the King's Curse and Time Craft as you traveled.

"So...to you, I've only been at this Tree a few days, right? Well, I've been here for months. And I've been in Dormont for...years? It's... it's been. So long."

They drifted into silence. You both waited to give them a moment, but finally Odile broke the quiet with a prompt: "You've been here at the Favor Tree for months? Continuously?"

"Oh, yes! Don't need to fill or empty yourself when you're a star. So I stayed right here."

"But no one saw you until the last week," you said slowly, thinking. "Because of the Time Craft?"

"Mhm! Because what was months for me was just a little over a day for nearly everyone else. Bravo, Isa--ah!"

They cut off with a gasp. "You okay?" you ask.

"Yes. ...Yes."

There was something very odd about their demeanor. They seemed genuinely scared, but they kept switching to casual, flippant even, and you knew part of that had to be a front to downplay their fear, but...

They were quick to use both your name and Odile's. They knew about Bonnie, they cared about Bonnie and Mira.

'Blinding.' The accent that was just barely audible under the crackling.

But Sif--

But Time Craft? But, impossible things had been happening in Vaugarde for months?

No, no. You didn't want to muddy this with your mixed-up feelings. "How does your Time Craft work?"

That set the stranger off into another round of giggling. "If it was my Time Craft I would've ended it all a lot sooner!"

They kept giggling. You were getting the strong impression that it was not good when they giggled. It made you think of an overheating teapot. "S, sorry? Was it the King's, then?"

"Ha! Ha ha! No, I don't think so," the stranger said in between giggles. "You see, how it worked was, the Saviors made their way through the House. They reached the King." The giggling was done. "Well, sometimes they didn't. Sometimes they died to Sadnesses, or an idiot got crushed by a rock or used a crest in the wrong place and trapped them in the House. But sometimes they did make it to the King, and the King slew them all. Then the Saviors made their way through the House again."

There was a pause as the stranger let their words sink in. Distantly, you registered that they were calling at least one of you an idiot, which wasn't very nice, but you were a little too preoccupied with the more horrific implications of what they were saying. A time loop where everyone kept dying?

...Sif--

Sif had been saying that he kept failing. Had been saying he let Bonbon get hurt. Unkind things that didn't make sense to say, unless, maybe--

the way they'd been so strong that day, how they'd founds keys and known where to go next when even Mira was hesitating--

if Sif had been looping in time, how did this person fit in? Except, maybe, please--

"So if it was the King, he was a blinding idiot to keep looping back when he'd already won," the maybe-not-stranger said at last. "...Finally. Eventually. He lost once. But--"

You couldn't contain that wild hope anymore. "Sif?"

They stopped speaking immediately. They didn't say anything.

Your heart felt like it was cracking all over again, and your voice wasn't doing much better when you tried to explain yourself. "S-sorry. I just--you sound like them. Stupid of me." They didn't even sound that much alike. You knew where Sif was: at the highest floor of the House, frozen.

On the other side of the tree, you heard static crackling in regular intervals. The same rhythm as a slow breath. Your heart hurt all over again.

And then, a small, scared whisper: "Isa--"

SO WHEN I STARTED Sif having a bad King fight and then freezing (which lead to Isa and Mira being sad), I'd. kind of wondered where that left Loop, and that's like the one part I wanted to get to, even if I don't plan on writing past that.

Loop is...not doing that great. I'm still figuring out how exactly this conversation would go (Odile wasn't planned at first LOL) but yeah there's a lot of "UM":

You got better. You got to leave the infirmary, though they still wanted you to stay in the House itself for a bit, just in case something happened, rather than being all the way out in the clocktower. You didn't mind, because you felt you needed to be here.

Sif wasn't getting better. They were still frozen on the highest floor of the House. You started helping M'dame with the research she was doing in the library, including the secret library after Euphrasie entrusted her with the knowledge. She raised an eyebrow when you started skimming through tomes and summarizing the chapters aloud to judge if you should give it a closer look, put it back on the shelf, or put it in the 'maybe' pile--only tangentially relevant to healing Craft or Time Craft, but sometimes writers do go on illuminating tangents. "I, uh, used to be a huge nerd," you muttered, because it didn't feel like the time to hide your smarts when Siffrin needed a cure.

Odile looked surprised for a few seconds. "Interesting. I'd wondered."

"You'd…wondered?"

"You're the only man I've ever heard sound smarter with three drinks in him. I'm curious, but it's fine if you don't want to talk about it. We've business right now, anyway."

You did indeed have business. Unfortunately, it was a bust; none of the books you found had an insight into healing a powerful Time Craft curse that M'dame or Mira hadn't already considered. Mira looked increasingly tired and miserable by the day, and at the end of the week Bonbon came in the House to visit Sif and came down yelling because someone had left flowers at his frozen form and that wasn't right, it wasn't right, because Frin was going to unfreeze and be greeted by dead flowers and that would suck, and if someone had left them flowers the way you would at a grave that was even worse because Frin wasn't dead. Bonbon was very clearly more worked up at the idea of Sif being considered 'dead' than Sif waking up to see dead flowers, but you promised them that yeah! You'd tell everyone to wait to give Sif flowers until they were able to appreciate them again. Because of course Sif was going to be able to appreciate flowers again.

You didn't want to think about the other possibility any more than Bonnie did.

The four of you were all stuck in a painful limbo. The Housemaidens and townspeople didn't seem to know if they should treat you as heroes to be celebrated or glass vases ready to shatter, and as much as you tried to smile you felt increasingly brittle. It was kind of a relief when a new issue popped up: there was a stranger at the Favor Tree.

So, strangers usually weren't a problem. Most strangers are nice! Accepting the change that strangers may bring is a key part of the Change faith!

…Most strangers, even if they had different ways of dress and custom, still looked…well. People weren't sure if the stranger was even human? According to the scattered descriptions, they had a human-shaped body, but the skin was like the night sky stuck over the House when it was frozen, and on top of the body was not a head, but a spiky orb radiating light. Some people were scared the stranger might not be a person at all, but some new kind of Sadness left over from Vaugarde's ordeal, or even the King's creation, since…well, yeah. He'd pinned the night sky over the House while he was controlling it. And he'd had stars on his armor. And the night-sky stranger was lurking at the tree, hiding, which unnerved people once they noticed the new and unusual presence. One of the kids had gotten bold enough (he'd been dared) to approach the tree anyway, trying to call out the stranger to talk, and had gotten frightened by an inhuman voice snapping at him to go away. So. Even if this was a human stranger who'd done extreme Body Craft beyond what anyone in Dormont knew to be possible, they were a rude human stranger who'd decided to take over a town's Favor Tree.

…That was the best case scenario. At worst, they were something created by the King.

You decided that as an ex-Defender you were probably the most qualified to have a talk with the stranger and try to figure out who (or what) they were, why they'd taken over the Favor Tree, if there was an alternate arrangement you could work out… or to take them on if they proved hostile.

M'dame decided you were under no circumstances to do this alone, regardless of how well you'd been feeling lately, so she was accompanying you to the Tree. Which you had no complaints with! M'dame was good backup. You got to the base of the tree, standing under its crown. You didn't see anything yet, but the small handful of townspeople who'd seen the stranger had said they'd always ducked behind the tree or had already been hiding behind it, allowing only glimpses of them. They must have already hidden. "Hello, stranger?" you called. "I'm Isabeau, a Defender from Jouvente. Well…ex-Defender, but, um! My colleague and I would like to talk with you?"

"So now we're colleagues?" Odile murmured to you, smirking even as she scrutinized the tree ahead of you.

"Well!" You lower your voice, flustered. "That's how I was used to approaching people on the job."

"I'm teasing, Isabeau."

You know, you know. It still flustered you.

…Although the lack of response was quickly growing more concerning. "Stranger?" you called. "Are you there? Can you talk?"

Still nothing, except for the faint sound of grass being stepped on, like someone was shifting their weight. Odile huffed. "You go right around the tree, I'll go left--"

"Go away!"

You jumped at the voice. The kid's description really hadn't done it justice, mostly because it was inhuman, crackling in a way you'd never expect from a human throat. But after the brief shock, you moved to stop Odile from going around the tree. "M'dame, wait."

"What?"

"I think they're scared." The way the kid had described it, the voice had been threatening, but the kid had probably already been scared himself. Underneath the strange crackling, the intonation, the way the pitch had wavered… it sounded like the stranger was panicking. You didn't want to make that worse; you might force a confrontation where none was needed. "Listen," you said, raising your voice again. "You don't have to come out right now if you don't want to, but we still need to talk. Okay?"

"…Fine."

"First things first, are you all right?"

"That's your first concern?" The crackling voice was tight, almost sarcastic.

"Um, yeah?" It was now. "Look, people have been getting worried about you hiding out here, but… it's not like you've been trying to scare anyone, right? You've been keeping to yourself."

"I didn't mean to scare that kid. I haven't scared anyone else, unless people are scared of beautiful stars!"

So the stranger…didn't consider themself a person, but a star? Like in the sky?

"People are, in fact, a bit wary of strange stars after the King," Odile pointed out, which! 100% true!! But not something to point out right now!

The stranger immediately got upset, the crackling in their voice sharpening. "So, what, the King has a monopoly on stars now? Isn't he dead? It's not like you beat him with the power of friendship. Oh, King, I'm sure there's a reason you're doing this! We don't have to fight!" The stranger scoffed. "I know that didn't happen."

"The King is dead," Odile confirmed. "You didn't know?"

"You think I can just walk into town and ask questions looking like this?"

You and Odile looked at each other. Some of the tightness left Odile's posture. "They're acting scared," she said, and you knew from that word choice she hadn't ruled out yet the possibility that it was only an act. But she was willing to give the benefit of the doubt for now. "Isabeau, you're better at this, you talk to them."

…Well. Hm. They didn't seem all right, but they also hadn't answered straight when you asked about that. Maybe they weren't ready to talk about themself yet. "If you've got any other questions, we can try answering?" you offered. "I'm Isabeau, he/him, and M'dame Odile uses she/her."

"…They/them for me."

Odile arched an eyebrow. "But no name?"

"No, my turn for questions!" the strange voice said, but then it fell silent for a moment. Were they still scared, or struggling to think of any? You folded your arms and waited, not wanting to rush them. "You're…two of the Saviors. Is, um, the Housemaiden--Housemaiden Mirabelle okay?"

The question made Odile frown. "Why do you ask?"

"It's a little strange that you came out here to talk to me without her, if you thought I might have anything to do with the King. Not that I do!" the voice said quickly. "Good riddance."

"Three-on-one would be pretty intimidating," you point out. That's exactly the reasoning you would have told Mira if she'd asked to come along, too… but the truth is, she didn't know you were out here. Even though her long quest was done, the stress hadn't disappeared, and Siffrin's condition wasn't helping anyone. You hadn't wanted to toss more on her plate. "We were hoping for a nice talk! Anyway, she's fine." Burnt out, but time would surely help.

Time, and Siffrin getting better.

"And the kid traveling with you? They're fine too?"

They knew about Bonnie? "They're fine too. We kept them away from the fighting."

"I know, but--" The voice stopped abruptly.

"You know?" That…was kind of odd, especially with how quickly they'd shut up, like they hadn't meant to let it slip. You'd reassured more than a couple people that Bonnie didn't actually fight with you, was only tagging along with your group because even if they weren't old enough to fight they were old enough to decide where they wanted to be and they'd made it very clear they'd chase after the group if they were left behind. So the star could have learned that secondhand, but that seemed unlikely if they were afraid to approach people with their appearance. Along with the slip, it made you wonder… "Did you, um. Did we meet you before the Body Craft? …Is that Body Craft?" You cringed a little. "Sorry, I don't mean to be rude, but--"

"It's okay. I, uh, I've been told how I look right now."

You immediately felt a pit open up in your stomach. They hadn't seen for themself how they looked? There was no way this could be Body Craft, then, at least not the way you knew it. No one in their right mind would Body Craft themselves without being able to track the process. But 'right now' implied there had been a Change. Odile had caught that too, her expression torn between wariness and alarm.

[gloryofluv]

Outfoxed: A Not So Happy Accident

I was going to create a headcanon for this prompt. However, it sounds waaaaay too much fun not to write as a fic. So, as per usual, Rena decided she was going to make herself known and now demands an introduction to her story.

F!MC x Multi

Rated: Mature

Summary: Rena was evaluating her place. Not among demons, or angels, or even magic. No, she was evaluating her place with herself. How not to be helpless for a human in a Devildom that never seemed to just have one regular day.

So, on her path to such a journey of self-discovery, she entrusted the neighborhood ancient sorcerer. (BTW He hates it when you call him ancient and Rena does to get a rise out of him!) How does one simple thing as evaluating her demon pacts cause this mess?

She's now... well, she's now a demon. Who knows how long? Who even knows why??? Well, this was going to be something her and Solomon work on. On top of all the newness of being a demon and learning that rules definitely don't stay the same despite your species or the temporary state of affairs.

The Incident:

Through the course of time through the Devildom, there was really no other human as reliable as Solomon. The sorcerer may have been an odd one, but he certainly knew magic. The pair were sitting in his room just as it was, every other Saturday.

Today was vital for Rena mostly due to the fact that Solomon was going to do some experiments with her demonic pacts. This was quite a bit of trust she was placing on the sorcerer—a milestone for her.

The woman shifted and scratched her nails through her auburn hair before twirling a lengthy lock around her fingertips while reading. It seemed quite intricate what he wanted to do. Testing the actual property of how attuned her pacts were with her magic.

“It’s all a process, I assure you,” Solomon hummed as he slowly stirred a spoon in the small cauldron.

“Sol, it’s not that I don’t trust you,” she murmured.

“But you don’t,” Solomon sighed. “I promise this won’t hurt you. We can’t get into the actual foundation of ritualistic magic if you don’t understand the capacity for your pacts.”

Rena shifted in her yoga pants and pulled down her green t-shirt before sighing. “No, I get that part. I understand the fundamentals of what the incantation is. I also see that it requires the subject to be completely willing. What happens if I don’t know if I am?”

Solomon twitched his nose as his ashen eyes met her form. “Are you? Rena, this is important. If you have any doubts, we shouldn’t do this. I’ve been instructing you for the entire week on what this experiment will do.”

“No, no, it’s fine. I’m one-hundred percent consenting to this,” Rena voiced with a single nod.

“You’re not just doing this to appease me, are you?” He questioned and set down the spoon on the table.

She shook her head. “No.”

“Excellent, then there’s no problem,” Solomon smiled and pointed to the chair. “Bring the book; the mixture is ready. Remember, it will help enlighten the passive magic from the pacts. You told the brothers about a possible tingle, correct?”

She scooped up the volume and agreed. “I also let them know that it’s just me tapping into that magic. A check-up.”

“Perfect,” he murmured and grabbed the ladle.

Rena ran her hands over her neck as she sat down. The book was peeled open to the page, and Solomon was scooping the solution into a goblet. Why a goblet? Why couldn’t the sorcerer use an ordinary glass? Magic was always so ancient, and it made the young woman’s lip curl as she observed. Such an old and foreign concept that was endearing after his several years of life.

Solomon tilted his head and offered it to her. “What has you amused?”

“You, Sol. You always amuse me,” she replied before taking the silver to her lips.

It tasted like rancid mugwort with a shot of whiskey. The liquid heated over Rena’s tongue and slid down her throat with a bite she wasn’t prepared for. The coughing that followed the serving of this solution didn’t startle the sorcerer, nor did he invade her space. All Solomon did was offer a glass of water.

Rena gulped it down and released a groan while scrunching her nose. “Why can’t we ever drink a cocktail or an ale? Why does it always taste like something similar to sewage?”

“Well, I never claimed anything I brew tastes wonderful, Rena,” he chuckled and thumbed the pages in front of her. “We should begin immediately.”

She breathed in and rolled her neck. “Okay.”

Solomon took his thumb and spoke the incantation before pressing it to her forehead. The tingling through her fingers and toes was as he described—even the quickening of her heartbeat as it pattered in her chest. However, there was something else that he didn’t note.

A sharp tug at her navel made her feel nauseous and caused the muscles in Rena’s abdomen to twitch. She started to count backward from one-hundred as a way to cope with the discomfort, but the longer she attempted to ignore it, the sharper it became.

She wanted to stop. This didn’t feel right. This wasn’t what he told her. Rena lost her tranquil concentration as Solomon finished the incantation. His finger pulled from her skin right before the woman launched to the ground and stifled a sound that neared agony.

“Rena, what’s wrong,” Solomon huffed as he slid to the floor next to her.

Her mouth and fingertips felt on fire as her breath caught in her throat. “I’m burning,” she cried as tears welled in her eyes.

“What?” he snapped. “Everything was accurate. What do you mean? Rena, tell me what’s hurting!”

She howled and raised to her knees, running her hands over her face. Her whole body felt like it was boiling in a giant vat of oil. “Solomon!” she screamed and saw white race through her eyes.

Just for the record. One does not simply grow extra limbs or oddities in a snap. It’s a horrible process of your magical composition changing, and those oddities in question come from inside to the surface. Horns. A shift in ears. A tail. It all has to grow from somewhere.

Clothing tears, whether that be from the subject or the growths. The skin bleeds from the oddities. The restructuring of one form to another is a difficult and painful process, but once it’s done, the person in question flops to the ground unceremoniously. Rena had this experience first hand and wouldn’t wish it on her most loathsome enemy.

“Fuck,” she hissed through panting and tears.

“Solomon, oh my, what happened?” Simeon’s voice entered the room.

“I, honestly, Simeon, it was. I don’t know how this could have happened!” Solomon’s voice sounded coarse and the furthest away from his usual calm demeanor.

A cool hand touched her bare back. “Rena, are you alright?”

She caught her breath and dug her sharp nails into the wooden floor. “I think, I need water,” she croaked.

Shuffling and then the hand traveled to her shoulder. “Let’s get you sat up, but be careful.”

Be careful? Rena was assisted in sitting and winced. Her eyes felt sensitive to the light in the room. It seemed so dim earlier, but now everything glared with color. “What happened?”

Solomon offered her the glass and scowled. “Rena, this wasn’t supposed to happen. I don’t fully comprehend what caused it.”

She brought the glass to her lips, and something tickled her leg, causing her to jump. A matted pillow? Rena reached out and tugged the item, causing a sharp pain to run up her spine. The glass fell from her hand and splashed water everywhere near her.

“What the,” she huffed, and the matted pillow flicked and curled over her lap. “I have a fucking tail!” she cried.

Simeon ducked down, and his brow was tight. “Yes, you do. You also have a new set of sensitive ears, so don’t hurt them quite yet,” he murmured.

She narrowed her eyes and snarled at Solomon. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” he huffed and gestured to her. “I explained everything to the fullest this week. This was supposed to be routine. It wasn’t supposed to turn you into…” he trailed off.

Rena jolted from her seat on the floor and paced over to the mirror he had on the wall. Oh, for the love of fucking demons… “I’m a,” she breathed as her breath became shallow.

“A fox,” Simeon sighed.

“A demon,” Solomon corrected him. “She is a demon.”

Rena wiped the blood from her forehead and scowled. The horns curled sweetly in a small curve around her eyes. The large matted ears. Lifting her sweat-coated hair, she noted her human-like ears were missing. How the hell was she going to explain this to anyone .

“Lucifer, we have a bit of a situation,” Simeon’s voice bounced in the room. “Solomon and I are bringing Rena home immediately, and I suggest you meet us there.”

“This is temporary, right?” Rena asked.

Solomon appeared behind her reflection. “I think so? I have to do some research on how this was even possible.”

Rena grimaced and scrubbed her sensitive eyes. “This is going to be a shitshow.”

“Likely, but let’s just hope Lucifer doesn’t flay me before I find a cure to your new conflict.”

“Hopefully,” Rena grumbled and covered her bra with folded arms. “Can you help me get some clothing? I don’t really want to walk around like this.”

Simeon cleared his throat. “I have a sweater that might cover the tear in your leggings as well as keep you modest, Rena. I’ll be right back, and we’ll leave.”

Solomon turned Rena toward him and took a cool cloth to her face, wiping away the clotted blood. “I will work tirelessly on this, I promise.”

“I know, Sol,” she sighed.

So. She was a demon for however long. What the fuck was that going to be like? How the hell was she going to cope with this new experience? One thing was positive; Lucifer was going to be furious. Great.

[mental-health-advice]

hey, i need some advice. a few months ago, i made a friend online. we sped through the stages of friendship in a few days, but i had an underlying anxious feeling the whole time. looking back, it was probably because he was very clingy (i felt like i had to be there for him 24/7) and rude to me. he would call me dumb or stupid as a joke, but they still hurt my feelings, and he made sexual comments about me that made me really uncomfortable. i wanted to ask him to stop, but i didn't have any other friends in my life and i was scared of losing him, even though i was somewhat aware that he wasn't good for me.

r eally soon after we started talking, he told me he liked me romantically. i did not feel the same way, but i was so scared of making him upset i had that i lied to him and convinced myself i did. i felt constantly sick after that, and soon i told him that i was wrong and i didn't feel the same way. he was understandably upset, it made talking to him even more uncomfortable for me.

i was still feeling really anxious all the time as a result of talking to him, and i told him that i was going to stop being so active online to focus on other things, as i had been neglecting nearly everything in my life to be there for him. he was upset about that too and would send messages like "i miss you" and "i wish we could talk more" that made me feel guilty when i was doing anything other than talking to him. i told him that, but he didn't stop.

i wished i had never become his friend and wanted to cut him off completely. i wasn't sleeping much and was feeling horrible this whole time, and really wanted to just disappear and be forgotten. eventually, i decided to just do it, and i blocked him and deleted any accounts that he could contact me on and haven't heard from him since.

i had hoped that i could just forget about it and move on, i feel like i'm overreacting when i have panic attacks over this. i feel like i was the problem, and like i was making a big deal out of nothing because he was well-intentioned. i hate the idea that he knows i exist and might mention me to other people. i overshared a lot while we were still talking and he knows way more about me than i'm comfortable with, and i'm paranoid he might share that information with people, even if i'd never find out about it and he couldn't effectively link it to me as he only knows my first name. we also video called a few times, and the idea that he could have pictures of my face really upsets me.

i feel like i shouldn't care, but i worry that i made him sad, and that by disappearing i impacted his mental health. i'm not sure if i made the right decision. talking to him wasn't good for me, i know that, but he wasn't mean all the time. we had fun together at some points, but i think overall it was a negative experience for me, but a positive one for him, as i was so desperate for approval that i would basically do anything he wanted and completely formed my schedule around him.

i'm really caught up in what i feel like i should have done. i think the right thing to do would have been to tell him some of these things before disappearing, but i wasn't really thinking sensibly at the time and instead panicked and disappeared. i've seen a lot of posts about how ghosting someone is terrible and never the right thing to do, which just makes me feel even worse.

i don't have anyone to talk to about this, my parents have specifically told me to never make friends online and i don't have any close friends in real life. even if i did have someone to talk to, i'd be embarrassed about it because i got myself into this situation in the first place and handled it horribly, and it's a dumb thing to be so worked up about.

in general, i don't know how to handle my feelings about the situation and feel better again. i know i can't live life constantly upset about something that happened several months ago, with someone who lives thousands of miles away who i'll hopefully never hear from again, but i don't know how to stop.

i feel so anxious that i am in a lot of physical pain and feel really nauseous. i can't sleep, and am exhausted to the point that i can't do anything. i've tried everything i know, regulated breathing, grounding exercises, distracting myself with things i like, etc but nothing has worked. i made a lot of bad decisions and i don't know how to move on from them.

Hey lovely,

Making friends online can be wonderful, but I’ve also had the experience that it can become quite dependent and therefore not healthy anymore. As with any other friendship, online friendships can go both ways!

It sounds like your friendship turned unhealthy. Having to be there for someone 24/7 isn’t healthy and isn’t good for the friendship, or for you! And jokes like that are only hurtful and not funny whatsoever. I’m sorry that you didn’t feel like you could stand up for yourself at that time. You definitely deserved to have stood up, but I really do understand why you didn’t feel like you could.

I think it’s really good that you eventually told him you weren’t romantically interested in him. It might have upset him, but it had to come out eventually and the sooner the better. It wasn’t fair on either of you to have kept things going. So well done!

I also think it’s really good that you tried to set a boundary by telling him that you wouldn’t be online as much anymore. That’s honestly a great step. He should have respected that boundary and shouldn’t have made you feel bad about it.

And I think you made a good call in blocking him and deleting those accounts. Like I said, your friendship sounds like it wasn’t healthy and setting boundaries hadn’t helped before, so this was a good next step to take.

I don’t think you’re overreacting at all! This was a difficult time for you and it’s bound to have its effects on you. But please take it from me: you weren’t the problem! From what you’ve outlined, he was very clingy and dependent and that can take its toll on a friendship.

Unfortunately you can’t change him knowing you and knowing information about you. I think that’s something that will take some time getting used to, but I believe you can get there! Since it is affecting you a lot, I do think it would be helpful to speak to a counsellor or other mental health professional about.

You are not responsible for his mental health. Maybe it upset him, you don’t know that. But in the end, you are your first priority. Staying in this friendship would have hurt you, and that is not okay and should be prevented! You need to take care of yourself first and foremost.

Did you find it helpful to type this out and write to us? I can imagine that it might have felt like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. Maybe you could try something like this more often? It doesn’t have to be an ask to us, but can also be a journal entry, or something you write down and then tear up or burn. Whatever feels best for you!

I hope this helped. Let us know if there’s anything else we can be of help with.

Sometimes what seems impossible, is just hard. Love Pauline

[bump-of-whump]

I know you said you don't write for Voltron, but could you give us some sick hcs like you did for YOI?

Sure, why not?

Sick VLD headcanons under the cut. I tried to differentiate them from the other ones I’ve seen floating around, but any similarities are innocently lifted rather than intentionally stolen. 🤒😷😴

Lance

As a sickie:

• Actually has a pretty sturdy immune system. He’s kind of cocky about it though. Like, there isn’t much of an effort on his part to avoid germs because he’s so confident he can resist them. This is why on the infrequent occasions he does get sick, it tends to sneak up on him. 

• Mildly dramatic. He won’t start writing up a will or anything, but if he comes down with something, he’s not subtle about it. The type to sprawl out on a cold floor (tile, linoleum, the metal on the castle, etc) if he’s feeling feverish. Will not move once he’s down, everybody just has to walk around him.

• It was easier for him to deal with getting sick on Earth. On Earth he could use it to his advantage to skip class or get extra attention from his family. In space it’s more difficult for him, first of all because of the additional responsibilities, but also because it feeds his insecurity. He doesn’t want to be the weak leak on a mission. That said, it becomes a boasting point if he manages to do well anyway. He might brag about shooting down sentries while being infected with “alien plague” and that sort of thing.

• Keeps a cough now and then. He could be mostly over a cold for like a week and still have a lingering cough. This worries the others, but is the kind of thing that clears up eventually. Usually, anyway.

As a caretaker:

• Actually awesome. The guy has superb emotional intelligence, man. He can tell when someone doesn’t feel good and he just wants to make them feel better. Very attentive to sick friends, even if they’re cranky. The first person to ask if you need to sit down, or offer a glass of water.

• Pretty good at cheering people up, really. Promises whoever’s sick that they’re gonna get over it, tries to keep them focused on the positive but doesn’t push too hard to force it either. Being sick is a bummer and he empathizes.

• Won’t shove medicine down anyone’s throat, but isn’t really a pushover about it either. If the patient doesn’t take it, that’s on them when it takes longer to get better. He tried.

Pidge

As a sickie:  

• Pitiful. Poor thing gets hit really hard by germs. She isn’t dramatic but it’s always painfully obvious when she’s coming down with something. She’s so quiet that it gives everybody this uneasy sense of wrong and she’s mopey too. Not whiny, really, but just…sad. Like a puppy that lost its favorite toy. She’s so pale the second she runs a fever, she’s red as a tomato.

• Only picks at food. Like, she will try to eat. She isn’t the kind of sickie to swear off on food. Logically she knows it’s important to get in the nutrients, but once the food is in front of her, she can’t actually force herself to swallow. She just stirs the soup until it’s cold. Uses her fork to scrape faces into the toast without nibbling past the crust.

• Because of her allergies, she’s pretty used to being stuffed up and the congestion of colds and like is a familiar state to slug through. But stomach bugs pulverize her. If she pukes her guts up for three days, she’s still feeling like a bear clawed through her stomach three days later. It’s just that sore.

• Performs like a compliant, obedient zombie. If her team is like yeah, okay you need to go to bed right now, she does so without protest. Or if it’s the opposite and it’s like, sorry you’re sick but this mission can’t wait, she just as easily goes along with it.

As a caretaker:

• She tries her best, but she gets overwhelmed by difficult patients. If a cranky sickie is yelling at her, she’ll probably throw a box of tissues at their head or something. Or if a delirious one starts wandering or rambling, she’s gonna freak out. Does a lot better with docile patients.

• Stays up late to watch over whoever isn’t feeling good, whether they gave her grief or not.

• Assuming it’s just a cold and the sickie isn’t suffering too bad, she’ll test alien remedies out on them. Particularly Olkarion ones because she’s fond of their culture.

Keith

As a sickie:

• He won’t acknowledge that he’s sick until he has to. He ignores silent symptoms, like various aches and sore throats. Once it’s past that point and he’s audibly/visibly ill, he’ll take some aspirin and go to bed early but not much more than that. Tries to lone wolf it as much as possible, even if he appreciates that his friends want to help.

• Used to get awful ear infections as a kid. Painful, dizzying, high fever kind. Bore it stoically even then. It would take passing out in class for authority figures to notice like, hey, this kid is sick. To date, when something’s coming on, he’ll usually feel it in his ears first. That uncomfortable pressure behind the eardrums and whatnot.

• Is the embodiment of that popular whump trope. Yeah, you know the one. The character that gets sick and proceeds to push themselves to the point of collapse? That’s Keith.

As a caretaker:

• Competent but a quiet worrier. Always double checks labels to make sure he’s giving whoever the right medicine and the right dosage of said medicine.  

• Hangs around with the infected rather than periodically checking on them, never particularly concerned about catching the bug. Always lets his patient pick the tv/movie since they don’t feel well, whether or not it’s anything he finds interesting.

• Observant, probably the first to notice when someone else is getting sick. And then he’s hypocritical, because he’ll call them out on it despite being the type to hide it when he’s ill himself.

Hunk

As a sickie:

• Um, mean. Or at the very least, grouchy and testy. Company grates on him when he’s sick and is definitely not appreciated. He’s the type to hibernate like an animal to sleep something nasty off, and anybody hovering around is in the way of that regardless of good intentions.

• Handles stomach bugs gracefully, if grumpily. Constant motion sickness and anxiety means he’s nauseous half the time anyway. He does better with them than regular flus or colds because pushing through nausea is basically normalcy.

• Gets knocked off his feet by any ailment with muscle fatigue. General weakness takes a lot out of him. He’s a huge dude packing major bodily strength so he feels it super hard when it just depletes in the wake of a bad flu or something.

As a caretaker:

• Very gentle. Conscious of germs, but uses sanitizer discreetly so as not to offend the ill.

• Obviously the first person to whip up some soup and comfort food. Also sneaks vitamins into his friends’ food if it seems like there’s something going around.

• Surprisingly calm when it comes to dealing with delirious patients. Yeah, on the inside it’s freaking him out, but he realizes it’s important to remain outwardly chill to provide as much comfort as he can and hopefully get them to relax. You can’t get a delirious person to relax if you’re obviously losing your shit.

Shiro

As a sickie:

Languishes when he comes down with anything respiratory. I think most peeps pretty much take it as canon that Shiro has a deviated septum because of his facial scar and I am included in this. Even the sniffles fucking wreak this guy.

He tries to keep it together because he’s a leader, downplaying illnesses even if they’re bringing on nosebleeds and migraines. He’ll keep it up as long as he can, unless it gets bad enough that his poor state becomes a liability for the team. He’ll take a step back at that point, begrudgingly accepting that he’s too sick to function. When it reaches this point, it is immensely frustrating for him.

Laying in bed makes him restless and sometimes a little snappy. It gives him too much time to think, with nothing to distract him from being sick. Nothing to distract him from those intrusive thoughts that stem from his trauma. He won’t ask the others to hang around his bedside because it feels like burdening them, but secretly prefers company if only to keep away the silence.

Impatient. Antsy about the speed of recovery, always worries that he won’t recover fast enough even if he’s only a day or two into a cold. Overexerts himself at the first sign of recovery and pushes himself too hard too fast, which could very well land him right back in bed.

As a caretaker:

Silently reluctant. You would never know it because he does such a good job of encouraging the sickie to get better and piling extra blankets on their bed, with reassuring shoulder pats and soothing smiles. But because illnesses hit him so hard, he’s internally nervous about contagion.

He feels guilty for thinking of the other paladins as biohazards when they’re sick. Obviously it’s not their fault. Nonetheless, he is painfully cognizant of the fact that when they get the sniffles, he’s likely to end up battling a serious sinus infection. It’s not fair but it is what it is.

While he goes against his better instincts and actively plays nurse anyway, he is always washing. Vigorously scrubs his natural hand until the skin is flaky and cracked, maybe even bleeding. Cleans his prosthetic one with strong antiseptic wipes, over and over and over. If he can sneak in a hot shower or two, he absolutely will.

Allura

As a sickie:

Out of it. Really weird and spacey. There’s no having a conversation with her. She’s that person that gets delirious even running a low grade fever and the next thing you know, she’s organizing the items in the fridge by color even though she can barely stand.

The kind of patient who will agree go to bed, but wants to work while she’s in bed rather than actually resting. She draws out battle strategies while she’s all laid up, but because of the aforementioned delirium, they usually aren’t good ones. Once she’s recovered, she either revises them or tosses them out entirely. 

•Sensitive to noises and sounds, particularly sounds. The team takes care to speak in low tones around her when she’s sick. She gets headaches and body aches rather easily, and hot baths are her preferred method to relieve the latter, whether or not she’s feverish.

As a caretaker:

Mostly confused. Her team is primarily composed of Earthlings and they don’t come with health manuals.

She isn’t particularly nurturing but she certainly means well. Might throw a patient with chills into a bath hot enough to boil lobsters, or force fed them a few gallons of soup.

•The one aspect of care taking she’s genuinely good at is companionship. Being sick is boring and Allura is great at telling stories. Her voice is also very soft and mellow and serves as a soothing lullaby to any sickie having trouble going to sleep.

Bonus Matt and Romelle because I’m already this far.

Matt

As a sickie:

Susceptible to chills. He can never get warm enough when he’s sick. He layers up big time, fuzzy socks, thick scarf, sweaters over long sleeve shirts, big ol’ blanket over his shoulders.

 Is not particularly cleanly. That blanket over his shoulders? Yeah, it’s also his giant tissue. It’s full of boogers and spittle and he is too sick to care.

 Drinks a ton of hot tea. It’s the only time he drinks hot tea in fact, when he’s healthy, he prefers iced tea. But when he’s sick, the teapot is always on. sweetens with honey to help his throat.

As a caretaker:

Indulgent, particularly if it’s Pidge who’s not feeling well. Whether you’re Pidge or not, you’re getting candy.

Bundles patients up in blanket burritos, whether they have the chills or not. Somethings this works out great. Sometimes the blanket burritos are too tight to escape.

Pretty good at keeping track of symptoms and the way they fluctuate over the course of an illness.

Romelle.

As a sickie

 Complains a lot. Overshares all of her symptoms, no matter what she’s come down with or how gross others might find it.

Needy. She doesn’t necessarily require taking care of, per se, but she does not want to be alone.

Will not stay in bed. It’s too boring and all her sheets are soaked in sweat and sticky, so how is she supposed to sleep anyway?

As a caretaker:

Simultaneously attentive and an asshole. She will spoon feed a sickie soup but make fun of them for being snotty and gross in between every sip.

Will undertake all the chores of the ill and then tell them she does a better job anyway. Once they’re back on their feet, she should show them how to do things right.

Loves pointing out all the ways an illness can get worse and goes into graphic detail with a cheery smile on her face.

Grooms her patients if they’re not feeling up to doing it themselves with a genuine tenderness. Brushes their hair, wipes them down with clean cloths, doesn’t make a big deal out of helping them change clothes. She’s just a total mixed bag.

[possibilistfanfiction]

prompt literally anything footy au

[teeny tiny ch5 teaser]

//

group stage, game 1

'hello,' you say, answering your phone the second coach superion calls. you leave your hotel in ten minutes, so you had scheduled it precisely, to be able to hopefully talk to ava before you leave.

her face is slightly pixelated on screen, but you don't care. 'hello, beatrice,' she says. 'ava is just waking up from a nap, so i thought i'd call and then hand it off.'

'yes,' you say, relieved that, so far, it seems like your meticulously crafted spreadsheet has been working: ava has yet to be left alone at the hospital, and when you have talked — between training and recovery and team meals for you; scans and pain meds and physical therapy and a lot of naps for her — there had always been someone to help hold the phone, to situate her favorite blanket you'd had michael get from your house. to love and comfort her: not as well as you would, not like you desperately yearn to do, but enough so that she knows she's not alone. she's cared for, deeply, and always.

'she had a good day,' coach superion says. 'i think she's just a little worn out. plus, she wanted to nap so she'd be awake for your game.'

'okay. well, that's positive overall.'

'the doctors say she's doing really well. they want to transfer her to the rehab facility soon.'

you ache again: you aren't there. you can't sit with ava in the ambulance; you can't hold her hand; you can't sleep overnight in her new room, just so that she wakes up to someone familiar. to someone she loves. 'i knew she would,' you say around the lump in your throat.

coach superion smiles gently. 'dr. reya will call you tomorrow, she said, to go over all the details. but let me get ava for you, yes? i knew you leave soon.'

you wait, as patiently as possible, for coach superion to go into ava's room and your heart constricts and then releases when you see her in her bed, sitting up slightly with a few pillows propped up behind her, the big back brace they'd put her in still and uncomfortable-looking but doing its important job. her hair is greasy, pulled back into a bun — you make a note that, next time, you should have chanel come in a day earlier to wash it for her; you'll have to shift around some things in the schedule but you know you can make it work — and she looks exhausted, but when mother superion holds the phone up for her, she smiles bravely.'

'hey, susperstar,' she says. 'ready to kick some ass today? set the tone for a masterclass world cup?'

there's no one else around: it's not an interview; there's no need to be modest because ava never has been — about you, especially, and her utmost trust and faith in your as a player, a captain, a person. 'i want three assists,' you admit, and she grins.

'that's my girl.' she laughs and there's a part of you that heals. 'you would want an assist hat trick instead of goals.'

it's fond. you shrug. 'start the tournament off the way i want to finish it, right?'

'fuck yeah,' ava says. 'if you score a goal at any point, though, do a little celebration for me or something, okay? just for the gay drama, if nothing else.'

you roll your eyes, but, 'okay, i will.'

'amazing.'

'i have to go soon.' you frown. 'but coach superion told me you had a good day so far? they feel like you can move to rehab soon?'

'yeah,' ava says. 'i sat up in a chair today for, like, a whole minute.'

you don't care, at all, whether ava is paralyzed, completely or partially; you don't care if she plays football again: you love her; you love her. but you know her goal is to get back on the pitch if she can, so you smile. 'that's incredible, darling.'

she shrugs. 'not quite like you, but it's something. and my hands worked well enough for me to cut a whole steak.'

finally, for the first time in days, you laugh. 'who brought you a steak? for lunch?'

she grins. 'yasmine. isn't it all on your little schedule?'

'well, yes, but not what anyone is bringing.'

'sure, sure. but, anyway, i finally don't feel nauseous, and she asked what i wanted, so, you know. go big or go home, right? and, bea, that steak fucked, okay? took me a little time to cut it but i did it, and it was so good. so worth it.'

'i'm really proud of you,' you say, aching to reach out and touch her. you would if you could.

she blushes. 'i think that's my line, right now.' she sighs. 'okay, go be the best in the world. i'll be watching, so, you know, if you could wipe sweat off your face with the bottom of your jersey when a camera is on you or something, that would make my day.'

you laugh. 'how about i send you a... quality picture... afterward?'

she groans. 'yes please. i need to increase the abs spank bank for when i finally get cleared to masturbate again.'

coach superion clears her throat and ava glances behind the camera.

'my bad,' she says, then looks back at you. 'but seriously, please do.'

'bye, ava.'

she laughs. 'bye, bea. can't wait to see your abs later, one way or another.'

you roll your eyes. 'i love you.'

'yeah, i love you too.'

and, well, if you notch four assists, just to show off a little, and send ava a mirror selfie in just your sports bra and compression shorts — you are certainly starting the tournament exactly how you want to finish it.

[fieryophelia]

If I'm quiet for a while, it's just that I'm in a lot of pain right now from a minor facial surgery I had last week.

I hurt near the incision, almost feels like in my chin. I feel like I was punched hard and it hurts even when I'm not touching it. The throbbing triggers headaches too even though I'm trying to relax and avoid clenching my jaw.

The only pain med that I can access that even touches the pain (ibuprofen) is horrible on my stomach and causes stomach pain and nausea and vomiting, if I don't ration it. And the pain by itself makes me nauseous anyways. So hopefully this is good for the diet.

I'm trying to go without the ibuprofen to save it for when I need it most, like leaving the house and bedtime. I tried to make myself sleep most of the weekend. It passed the time but didn't help my life otherwise.

Doing my best to work today, glad that I'm home so I can go owwww when I need to without having to explain how puny I feel. Or dress in anything but fuzzy pajama pants.

I'm not looking for anything from anyone other than to vent to the Tumblr void. I don't want my mom to worry if I vented anywhere else. I wish I had someone to cuddle with who would make soup for me and watch shows with.

The pain will pass. I see the doctor for follow-up tomorrow. But I'm just too owwww right now for social media. Or life. And with my chronic pain history, if I'm complaining about pain it's at least a 6 or 7.

I hope y'all are feeling well. Never wish pain on anyone.

wat u feel u can heal