#like…maybe i’m sore. maybe i’m uncomfortable. maybe i’m on my period or meds.

[aikuse]

that taiga fic was wonderful but I don’t like how he doesn’t seem to care if reader came or not. I know you said realistic but I feel like taiga would care if we came or not

no offense anon but i think u missed the actual point of that fic by at least a mile

[gothamite-rambler]

The batgirls on their periods (conclusion)

The batgirls on their period and how the boys handle them. My Aunt Flo is visiting this month and period woes should be told. All right, let’s do this thing!

Stephanie rested on the floor in the fetal position. She groaned from the intense cramps her period bestowed on her. Tim walked into the living room spotting her on the ground next to the couch.

Tim: Why are you on the floor?

Stephanie (uncomfortable): I attempted to readjust myself on the couch, and then I was on the ground. That's when the stomach cramps entered the mix and I am in too much cramp pain to want to get up. Why are these always so... intense?

Tim: You might have a medical condition related to the-

Stephanie (seething): I need you to stop doing what you usually do. I seriously don’t want to kick you in the crotch and mind you I’m at the level to do so.

Tim (not concerned): Sorry, it's hard turning it off. Um, do you... Do you need anything?

Stephanie (sardonic): For us to switch places and you go through this.

Tim shook his head with a frown.

Tim: Nah, I'm good.

Stephanie: It feels like an elephant is standing on top of my ovaries and… bouncing.

Tim: That is… oddly descriptive.

Stephanie chuckled raising her hand to talk with it.

Stephanie: Because it’s real, mon frère. At least I still have my humor.

She moaned in pain once more from the elephant bouncing pain.

Stephanie: I think this is it, Timothy. Leave me here to die. Tell my family I loved them and tell Kite-man not to attend my funeral. I’m serious, lock the doors if he tries to step foot at my burial service.

Tim rolled his eyes and helped his friend up.

Tim: At least lay on the couch.

Stephanie: Yes, I'll lay here and suffer.

Tim laid her on the couch and placed a pillow behind her head.

Tim: I can get you an ice or heating pack. That helped when I got kicked in the stomach.

Stephanie: Hmmm, bring me the warm one and Nutella and more carrots... And pain meds. The kind that will let me sleep like a baby.

Tim: Gotcha. Anything else?

Stephanie, raising her pointer finger spoke as if she was an old lady.

Stephanie (sounding like an old lady): Blanket, child. A fuzzy one.

Tim (sympathetic): You just rest. I will take care of you until your period ends. I'll also tell Bruce you're too... Sore is the word I want to use, yeah, too sore to go out tonight.

Stephanie: Thank you. You're the best.

Tim: I try to be.

---------------------------------------------

Dick Grayson got the angry side of the menstrual cycle. Something he dealt with since knowing Barbara and it was never a fun time. 

Barbara was not happy with her replacement cake. A vanilla and chocolate mixed cake that Dick bought at the grocery store.

Barbara: This isn't the same cake! It has vanilla in it! You bastard!

Barbara hurled the cake at Dick, hitting him squarely in the face with pinpoint accuracy. The cake quickly slid off, leaving behind a smattering of icing and crumbles clinging to his features. He inhaled sharply, his heavy breaths mingling with surprise.

Dick (mantra): Maintain peace. Maintain peace.

Barbara (crying): Why did you eat my cake? I needed it at this time!

Dick wiped cake out of his eyes, reminding himself he had to be calm when Barbara was going through PMDD during her time of the month.

Dick: Maybe you shouldn't have said I could eat the rest.

Barbara (shouting): You shouldn't have listened to me! I was naive back then!

Dick (losing his temper): It was… two days ago!

Barbara pouted then burst into more sobs, her makeup smearing and her glasses fogging from the tears.

Barbara (crying harder): You... YOU YELLED AT ME!

Dick (panicked): Don’t cry- How was I supposed to know your period was coming on?!

Barbara: You live with Bruce Wayne! The man tracks... everything! I thought you'd have the knowledge to do the same.

Dick (softly): I really don't. You seemed to fail at that too.

Barbara (angry): I was a few days off okay?! This is such shit! I’m tired and bloaty, and I can’t focus! I want to get to work, but my brain is foggy. Worst of all... you made me cry!

Barbara sobbed, her hands covering her face as her tears flowed. Dick let out a sigh and carefully approached her. He wrapped his arms around her, offering a comforting hug to reassure her that everything would be alright.

Dick: I know you're dealing with a tough week, and I really can't handle another sore foot. Why don't you take a break? Shut down this room for the night and give yourself some time to rest. I can swing by and pick up a big box of your favorite chocolates, along with a teddy bear you can use to vent your frustrations instead of taking it out on me. Just take some space until you’re ready to dive back into work and I'll try to do comms for the night.

Barbara (sniffling): That might actually help. I’m really sorry for yelling at you and running over your foot. The cake throwing was out of line too. I guess my PMDD makes me a bit harder to handle sometimes.

Dick (sarcastically): No really I couldn't tell.

Barbara: Can you not tell anyone I cried either?

Dick (smiling): I’d rather forget all of this happened, secrets safe with me.

---------------------------------------

Jason got lucky with the calmer side of the cycle, even though Cass is a bit shy about discussing it. Her birth father wasn’t really the type to take on the responsibility of raising a daughter properly. Bruce tried his best, but it was always a little awkward between them. At least Jason is a better person to take along to the local convenience store for menstrual supplies.

Cass walked over to Jason, carrying four different brand boxes of menstrual pads.

Cass: I couldn't figure out what to get so I picked each brand they had. I swear you think one brand will do its job and then… it doesn’t.

Jason shook his head, not wanting to dwell on what she meant. He closed his eyes, already regretting what he was about to say.

Jason: Never tell anyone this, but Artemis recommends the Playtex. Just get that so we can go.

Cass: Artemis suggested that? Okay, that’s the one to buy.

Cass handed Jason the Playtex box and then pushed the other brand boxes onto a store shelf.

Jason (blushing): All right, take this back please.

Cass giggled as she took the box back and tucked it under her arm.

Cass: I'm glad you took me to the store, you’re the best.

Cass tried to hug her brother, but he stepped aside.

Jason: Don't hug me in a convenience store as you're shopping for pads. I’m just as uncomfortable as you.

Cass (smiling): I'll give you that hug later. Oh if it's okay can you buy me a lot of caramel candies? I'm not a chocolate person honestly and these pads are expensive. 

Jason grabbed five bags without hesitation.

Jason: As long as I'm not paying for the...  Pads.

Cass: You so silly. You said Artemis has her own time of the month.

Jason (blushing): Yeah I don't- I don't help her out with that. Amazon women... not nice during that time. She screams at me if I talk to her during that pe- ti- situation. At least you're not as... Punchy as she is.

Cass: Yeah I'm pretty mellow during this time. Just bad cramps and feeling mushy.

Jason (sheepishly): That's... not mood swings. Good… for you. I think. This is my life right now.

Cass laughed, patting Jason on the arm.

Cass: Pretty much. I'm surprised you came in the store with me though.

Jason: I mean I wanted to help you out... because I care about you and I saw how nervous you were.

Cass sniffled with a smile.

Jason: Yeah I know I'm awesome. Let's check out. You go first.

Cass: I don't blame you.

---------------------------------------

Kate has been through her cycle enough times to be used to it. Her and Bruce were at Chili's (Not by Bruce's choice) and talk about menstrual cycles. Kate does all of the talking, Bruce is regretting ordering the burger.

Kate (chewing): I swear this one week is the bane of every woman who has to suffer through it. Blood coming out of that area, the aching and throbbing can be intense when my cramps start. It’s like someone is drilling a corkscrew into my uterus. The entire week is nothing but exhaustion, even walking is difficult. Then there’s the diarrhea and your breasts-

Bruce dropped his fork and slammed his fist on the table to silence his cousin. She let out a chuckle.

Bruce: Why are you telling me this while we're at a chain restaurant?

Kate laughed, taking another bite of her steak. 

Kate: You're my cousin and that gives me the right to gross you out. That and you have to know this by now. You have daughters.

Bruce: I'm starting to wish I had all boys.

Kate (mockingly): You boys are so sensitive about this stuff. How do you think we feel? 

Kate snatched a fry from Bruce's hand and popped it into her mouth. He had intended to eat that.

Bruce (monotone): You want the rest of my fries?

Kate: N- I’ll take a couple.

Kate grabbed a fist full of fries and plopped them on her plate.

Kate: Brucie, just support us like you do already and we won't cuss you out.

Bruce (doubtfully): Yes you will.

Kate: I’m lying you got me. You're doing a great job though, cuzzo.

Bruce (sweetly): I’m glad that I am.

Part 1

[nerdieforpedro]

Did you say Raspberry Beret or Tea?

Dieter Bravo x plus size female reader

This blog is 18+ MDNI

This fic is for general audiances.

Word Count: 777 (Go buy a lotto ticket! 😎)

Summary: You're having a horrible period day and Dieter makes it better. No raspberries were harmed in the making of this fic.

Warnings: mentions of periods, discomfort, fluff

Notes: Not beta-ed. I wrote it at work and tired out a moodboard I think. I'm playing around with them. I blame my uterus for this fic as today sucked while I worked. 😑

“Ugh….I roll and I roll and it does nothing.” Your oversized t-shirt rides up under your breasts which adds to your annoyance. You’re sweating and having chills at the same time. Sprawled across the bed, you’ve tried both of your sides, laying on your back which led you to curve it in pain and on your stomach, you had a few minutes or relief before another heat wave came and made it too hot to stay face down.

Sitting up at the side of the bed, your hair is lopsided and your silk bonnet is on the floor. You don’t remember taking it off or hearing it fall. “I took my Midol, I kept chugging water and peeing. I’m still sore, hot and cold…this sucks. What am I missing?!” You rub your palms on your thighs to try and take your mind off how uncomfortable you feel. The floor feels cool though, maybe you should lay on it. It is a beautiful dark hardwood floor, you can see your reflection in it. Your body has a sheen of moisture from your sweat. “Become one with the floor…” You whisper to yourself and then start feeling cold again from so much exposed skin. “My body hates me.”

“Honey Pot, you don’t look too good.” A voice that you’ve missed the last few days as he’s been out of town. Dieter stood in the doorway with a cup of coffee. You love your coffee with four creamers and sugars with some dashes of vanilla extract. “Do I need to call someone? You’re sweaty and you feel cool. That’s really weird.” He handed you the coffee and pecked your lips as you accepted it. His palm touched your forehead before traveling up to smooth down your hair which was sticking up. “You’re on the losing end of a fight huh?” You quickly finished the cup, warming your body from the inside out, then you were again overheated.

“You were so sweet with the coffee and you had to ruin it Dee. It’s one of my heavier days so it’s so much worse. My meds and usual positions aren’t working. It’s horrible. Fix me…” You whined, rather uncharacteristic for you as Dieter was used to you listening to his complaints. He sat next to you on the bed and put his arm around you, the fluffy fabric of his ever present gray robe tickled your neck. 

“Aww…my poor sweetheart. What do you need from me? Anything you want I can order?” He asked, you shook your head and sighed. Patting his thigh before intertwining your fingers with his.

“No. I finished the coffee. I think I should have my raspberry tea. That should help, and then play some music, maybe moving around will help instead of just rolling in the bed.”

“Raspberry I can do honey pot. I’ll go start it now!” Bravo jumped up excitedly and ran out of the room. You were surprised to see him that enthusiastic to make you tea. He always said you brewed it too strong. You placed your feet on the cool hardwood floor again and stood, letting the cold travel from your feet, your head flew back from some relief. Your body had once again decided to change temperatures on you.

“Oh god that feels good. I should have gotten up sooner.” You laughed at yourself for not hopping up sooner and walked toward the doorway that led to the living room. Music filled the room as Dieter had turned the Bluetooth speaker all the way up and was shaking his hips with his arms extending out. It looked like he may start doing some kicks any time. “Dieter, what are you doing? Did you make the tea?”

He continued to dance over to you and pulled you toward the center of the room, placing a hand on the small of your back and leading you around in a circle to the rhythm. “I don’t know why you wanted to listen to ‘Raspberry Beret’ but it’s always fun to listen to Prince. Personally, I would have picked ‘I wanna be your lover’ to dance to.”

You stared at Dieter’s bright face as the two of you danced, his face with the same half grin and smirk he normally had. Your head rolls back as you erupt with laughter, forgetting for a bit that your uterus has chosen violence this week. “Another fun one is ‘I would die 4 U’ you know you can’t hit those high notes Dee.”

The two of you continue to swing around the living room to the jovial sounds of ‘Raspberry Beret’ the tea forgotten over the melody.

Trash Panda Pals 🦝: @katw474 @readingiskeepingmegoing @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @megamindsecretlair @pamasaur @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @sp00kymulderr @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @titlee78

[tinkerbelle05]

Pavitr x reader

Readers having her period

Now let me take care of you, okay.

Characters: Pavitr x Fem!reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Summary: (Requested) Thanks for the reqs 🧡

Warnings: Period, Period Symptoms: cramps, bloating, vomiting, nausea.

Sundari = beauty

At first, Pavitr was kinda clueless about the whole thing. And you being parts embarrassed and parts prideful, you never let him in to see that side of you. So the most you’ll do is send him to the store and have him pick up some pads or tampons if you really need it. But he always has raspberry and black tea stocked and ready for when your period comes and you are craving it. He was really considerate like that.

And he always offered to do more for you even though he knew you’d say no. Like he’d offer to message your shoulders and lower back. To cook your meals and clean your house for you. It warmed your heart that he’d do all of that for you but you didn't need his help.

You were fine with planning. You cleaned your house the week before and you meal prepped things you know you can eat. You got any important work done and made sure no social plans happened during your period. You’ve been doing it this way for year and you were a pro at it.

That’s what you kept telling yourself as you laid on the ground, withering in pain. That you didn't need anyone’s help.

The cramps were getting too much and you couldn't keep down the pain meds either. And of course your heating pad had gone and disappeared on you as well.

Tears of frustration and pain swelled up in your eyes while you descend into further despair. Your phone was so tempting right now. It’d be so, so easy to grab it and dial Pavi’s number. But it'd be so hard to accept the help that’d come with it.

You couldn't explain the reason but being self-reliant is something so ingrained into who you are as a person. Maybe it's because you’ve been disappointed more times than you can count on your hand? Or maybe it's because you are naturally distrustful of strangers?

But Pavitr isn't a stranger.

He's the love of your life. He trusts you with his whole entire being and he showed you time and time again that a he's reliable person. Maybe you should call him. Despite your pounding heart and shaky hands you do so.

“Hey Sundari, how are you?” he greeted you, sounding cheerful.

“Hi Pavi, honestly I’m not doing too well. Can you please come over?” You asked him and waited with a baited breath for a response.

Immediately his tone changed to something more serious, “Of course I will come. Is there anything that you need?”

You listed off the things that you would like him to buy for you, pausing frequently when a particularly strong cramp hits you. And Pavitr listened to you with patience and understanding. God, that alone made you want to cry right then and there.

Within 30 minutes your front door opened revealing Pav holding a mountain of bags that you couldn’t help but gawk at. What you asked for wouldn’t even make up for half of what he was holding.

“Oh my, are you alright?” He questioned, with alarm in his voice. He dropped the bags carefully on the ground and rushed over to where you laid. “Do you want me to help you walk or carry you?”

“Carry please,” you respond. You closed your eyes a bit and just lent into his hold, he was warm and smelt good too.

A bit too warm but it was way better than the floor. Your back was starting to sore. He walked slowly to your bedroom and laid you on your bed carefully.

He sat at the edge of it and squeezed your arm lightly, “Are you cold or hot?”

You thought for a moment, feeling the air around you. Your legs were burning, it felt like everything was burning and on fire. “I’m really hot,” you muttered out.

He nodded his head, “I’ll find the remote and get you some water, okay? Are you hungry? Nauseous?”

Your stomach felt empty but you also felt really sick. The thought of food made your stomach twist and churn uncomfortably. You shake your head no.

Pavitr hums in response and brushes the sweat from your forehead. “Okay, I'll get a cold rag. Hang tight Sundari.”

He came back a few minutes later with some tea, a cold bottle of water, and a cold rag like he promised. Using the remote that he found, he turned on the AC and placed the cold rag on your burning skin.

“Okay, you rest up. I’ll cook and clean. Let me when you are ready to eat or need anything else.” He told you but a weak protest on your lips.

“Pavi, you don’t have to-.” You started to sit up in your bed, body feeling heavy and weakened from the lack of food.

He pushed you back gently, smile on his lips and twinkle in his eyes, “I don’t have to but I want to because I love you. Now let me take care of you, okay.”

Tags: @sodapopzs, @ellatienesuscosas, @justbeethings, @jam-skullz, @hoeboat101, @butterfi, @dreamxcollide, @sleepdeprivationis4coolkids, @itstooearly-its3am, @eight-cats-in-a-box, @maypersonne, @rosebunny, @midnight-the-shadow-wolf, @emgavi, @sawi-06, @niktwazny303, @nagi3seastorm, @ghostsimp000, @vixqn, @angelzira, @keawio, @nerdyparker616, @jell0buss-37, @mur-docs, @shibble, @somber-starz, @emgavi, @707xn, @cloudstrifefantatic, @yourtsahik, @im-jisoo-im-okay, @1uvvmi, @minimari415, @luci1fer, @centipider, @randomhoex, @universallypeanutpizzapersona, @baddiebehaviourxx, @m4rihrts, @laylasbunbunny, @andhdi68a, @avatarl0v3r, @spider-bren, @wraithlueintheirlittleworld, @ca1ist0, @liuralibrar

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[the-girl-with-hip-dysplasia]

Week 1 Post-Surgery Recap

RE: Right Hip Arthroscopy & Osteochondroplasty

Wow, I can’t believe it’s been a week since I got my surgery. (The week mark was 5/11. I'm just posting late lol). Just a week ago I was taking walks, going to work, and living life and now I’m on crutches and need help taking a shower and using the bathroom lol. But I’m only going to be down bad for a few weeks. It’s worth what I hope to gain after recovery.

For the next two weeks, I cannot bear much weight on the operated leg. I can only do toe touches/20lbs of body weight. My physical therapist said to imagine that I have an egg under my foot that I’m not supposed to crack. I am also not supposed to bend past 90 degrees at my hip nor externally or internally rotate my leg/hip. In two weeks I will have an appointment with my doctor to see if any of these limitations will be lifted. 

Here is a day-by-day snapshot of my first week.

Day 1 

received my CPM (Continuous Passive Motion) machine. Began using it. Felt discomfort so only used it for 2 hours. The purpose of the machine is to move your leg for you in order to reduce swelling, reduce joint stiffness, and reduce the amount of scar tissue.

nurse came to check my vitals and make sure I was taking my medications correctly

throat still sore

incision site still sore. A little inflamed. Iced it

hip joint felt pain free surprisingly. I thought maybe when the anesthesia/hospital meds wore off after 24hrs I would feel more pain in my hip, but my pain levels remained the same

Day 2

felt pretty much the same as yesterday. Inflammation around the incision site as to be expected. Continued to ice it.

used cpm machine for 4 full hours. A little discomfort, but less discomfort than yesterday

nurse came to change my non-waterproof bandage for a water-resistant bandage that is supposed to stay on for two weeks. I had drainage on the bandage after an hour which was concerning b/c the nurse said I shouldn’t have any drainage. But she said she may have aggravated the wound she had to pull off the hospital bandage that was stuck on my open wounds. I need to monitor my temperature report if the drainage gets bigger

Physical therapist came by to do an eval. He gave me a few light exercises to do and made sure I was walking, sitting, and using the bathroom correctly with my crutches Day 3

same as yesterday. Continued to ice incision area. Throat still sore. Gargled salt water for throat

less discomfort using cpm machine. Unable to do full 3-4 hours without a break mid-way

finally took a shower! Sat in my shower chair. The hip kit from the hospital came with a sponge with a long handle for the hard to reach places, but it didn’t scrub as well as I would’ve liked. So my mom washed the hard to reach areas for me

Day 4

throat feeling better, but voice still a little raspy

finally moved from my bed and sat in a chair for a few hours. It felt really good on my legs which were tight from being straight (well mainly my right leg). I had some inflammation from sitting up, but it went down after some icing and rest

PT cleared me to sleep on my side by putting my weight on my non-operated leg and using a pillow in between my legs to support my operated leg on top. I tried sleeping this way but it was a little uncomfortable on my operated hip. I’ll see how it feels as my hip continues to heal

Day 5

voice and throat finally back to normal

significantly less inflammation around incision site

sat in a chair for most of the day. Iced hip while I sat to prevent inflammation

laid on my side with support pillow for 10 min. A little discomfort in my operated hip

got my period. used period panties which was very easy compared to trying to maneuver my body to use pads, tampons, cup, etc.

Day 6

incision site feeling less sore. Just a little itchy. Only pain when I graze the area

able to do full 4 hours on cpm machine w/or breaks or discomfort

laid on my side with support pillow for 20 min. Still a little discomfort in my operated hip, but the discomfort seems to be subsiding (or maybe my anxiety around it is). I get nervous laying that way because it would aggravate my hip and cause a lot of pain if I laid like that for too long. So my body and brain is still carrying that nervousness

Day 7

I’ve reached an official week post-op!!!!

feeling the same as yesterday

inflammation feels completely gone near incision site

Overall the recovery this first week has felt really smooth. I thought I wasn't going to be able to sit up at all, yet here I am sitting in chairs (w/ pillow support of course)! I'm happy that my incision sites are no longer inflamed. I should be getting the stitches taken out next Friday. I'm hoping that as I continue to heal, my right hip will get less inflammed from sitting up. As of now I am continuing to take my meds, use my cpm machine, heat & ice, and do my PT workouts each day. So we shall see!

[vampcubus]

𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘-𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓

izuku midoriya x reader

⋆ ࣪. ❤︎ 𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘! nsfw, pro hero izuku, female reader, period sex, cockwarming, no set dynamics just soft and sensual sex, crying during sex, probably the softest smut i’ve ever written.

⋆ ࣪. ❤︎ 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉𝖘! 2.3k+

"Hey, honey! sorry ‘m so late! right as i was wrapping up patrol a villain appeared, and there weren’t any other pros around to round them up so i..." Izuku stopped hopping around on one foot to take off his shoes when he realized you weren't right there to greet him like you usually were. Not in the kitchen. Not on the couch. Maybe you were just relaxing in the other room? "Y/n?”

He hears a muffled, "I'm in here!" Come from the bedroom and he sighs, relieved. He finished kicking off his red shoes and lifted his mouth guard up and over his head to set aside for the next day. He unzipped his hero costume halfway to let himself breathe a little, his black tank top hugging his sore muscles. He tied the sleeves around his waist and made his way into the bedroom to greet you, curious as to what you were up to. Only for his smile to falter when he saw you curled up in bed with a water bottle wrapped with a towel clutched to your stomach. "What's wrong, angel? Are you not feeling well?" He asked worriedly, rushing to your side to check your temperature. You only groaned grabbing his hand and pressing it to your lips to kiss the back of it, though you looked annoyed you still attempted to be affectionate. "It's just that time of the month, been cramping like hell," You admitted without shame, you never did have to feel embarrassed after all. Izuku was anything if not understanding and considerate when it came to those times when you were really hating being a woman. 

Izuku's big green eyes glimmer with understanding before a warm smile graces his tired features. "I'm sorry, baby I must've forgotten. We usually know when yours is... ah, I've been working so much that I..." Izuku trailed off when you took his hand again, giving it a squeeze as you curled yourself into a more comfortable position. "I know I know, you're gonna say it's not my fault but I still feel bad when you're in pain." Izuku pouts and you only grin. "I forgot too, took pain killers about an hour ago," you yawned, shifting positions once more as your cramps returned. "D'you want me to warm that up for you before I jump in the shower?" Izuku offered, already beginning to strip down his hero costume into the thin tight clothing he wore underneath. You nodded and passed the bottle over to him, watching him disappear into the kitchen to fill it with hot water. Fifteen minutes pass before you hear the bathroom door open once more, snapping your drooping lids open. The still-warm water bottle soothed the ache of your abdomen, but you were in dire need of cuddles right now. Or rather, in need of Izuku. The moment he stepped into the room clad in just his boxers and a random T-shirt you were making grabby hands. He smiled sheepishly, hanging up the towel he'd been drying his hair with before obediently crawling into bed with you. He latched on immediately, spooning you from behind and tugging you against his body. You kept the hot water bottle pressed snugly against your abdomen, but didn't hesitate to fit your body into the shape of his, snuggling back against him with a content sigh. That is before a pained groan topples out afterward as another cramp twists your stomach in knots.

Izuku frowns. "Are you okay, baby?" He asks, briefly wondering if he should have grabbed you some pain medication or some of your snacks. Those always seemed to help you through these troubling times. "Should I go get you some more painkillers? Are you hungry?" "Hmm? no, stay." You sighed, cringing at the discomfort and icky feeling of blood leaking into the pad. "Jus’ uncomfortable, and I shouldn't take meds again so soon." "Is there anything I can do to help?"

You snorted, the vibrations rumbling against the hand draped over your belly, making the corners of his own lips twitch up. "Actually, I'm hella horny right now, but I doubt you can help me with that," You giggled, and his arms tighten around you. He bit down on his lip at your confession, feeling the slightest hint of arousal prickle under his flesh. He'd done some research a while back so he'd know how to handle your period effectively and read about increased levels of arousal during a woman's cycle. He also discovered that period sex wasn’t impossible, it's just that most didn't want to get messy. "Why not?" He asked, and your giggles were cut short. "Uh, y'know cus I'm bleeding outta my fuckin’-" You jest, but its cut short when he rolls his hips into yours, forcing a gasp your lips. You could faintly feel the outline of his hardening cock against you, and you bit your lip to contain a moan as your own hips pushed back against his. "What did you have in mind?" "Well, I read online that orgasms are supposed to numb the pain... and maybe I-I could um..." You heard his clothing being shifted around before the hot flesh of his dick pressed against the back of your thigh-making your entire body jerk. "Distract you a little?" "Oh, yes please~!" You chuckled, lifting a leg as an invitation to continue. "Anything for my angel." He grins sheepishly against your shoulder, sliding a hand between your thighs. With your current predicament, you should be more than wet enough to slide easily into. And so this time Izuku decides to skip the foreplay and give you what you really wanted. His fingers pull away your panties and the pad before his cock slides inside of you from behind. Izuku sucks in a breath before a guttural groan passes through his trembling lips as your walls squeeze around him rhythmically, almost welcomingly. You feel extra slick and a dull blush rises to his cheeks when he realizes why. 

That's right, you're bleeding. He closes his eyes, hand grasping your hips as his own slowly rut into yours. He's being so gentle and you appreciate the softness, after all, you're extremely sensitive in this state. "Mmm, feels good," you purr, and he smiles against your shoulder. "Move some?" He nods, holding in a whimper as he begins to thrust himself in and out of you. A pitched keen weasels its way out of your throat and you can’t help but tear up at the relief you feel after being filled. Izuku's scarred hand drifts over your stomach, rubbing soothing circles where he knew you were aching. 

His thrusts remain soft, but your obscene noises only rise in volume. "Honey, are you... are you doing okay? doesn't hurt, right?" He asks, brows furrowed as your winded, kicked-puppy-sounding noises continued. "Yeah, m'good just—hmmgn!—sensitive, it feels r-really good... k-keep things soft." 

Izuku throbs inside of you as you clutch at his arms wrapped around your belly, hips gyrating just slightly into his languid movements. He bites his lip, fighting back the urge to cry as he watches the love of his life writhe and sigh dreamily, so in love that it chokes him up a little. 

"You’re treating me so good, baby. I love you,” you sigh, and a sob wretches itself from his throat despite his best efforts.

Fat tears dribble from his emerald eyes as he presses himself flush against your back, face buried in the back of your neck. You hear him sniffle against your nape, and you smile, knowing you'd picked the right lover. Even during sex, he couldn't contain his utter gratitude to have you in his life, so much so that the affection he has for you all too easily bubbles over and spills out of him. "I love you too, love you s’much, mmmh! wanna make you feel good, always,” he whines, hips stuttering against yours.

Even though the slow pace is tortorous, and he aches for you, he’s careful with you. You don’t often let him dote on you, so he wants to make this last as long as possible.

You can’t help but appreciate the gentleness of Izuku, in everything he does for you. You closed your eyes, focused on the feeling of his cock filling you over and over again. The head bumped into your g-spot and you jerked, tightening around him suddenly. Izuku's thighs spasmed and he rewarded you with a deeper thrust, whimpering into your shoulder as your walls flexed and tugged at his shaft. His lips sucked dark marks into the flesh of your neck and shoulder, tongue soothing each bite. Izuku's hips sped just slightly, unable to handle the slower pace much longer as his orgasm approached. You moan out your appreciation, back arching against his chest as the tingles of bliss washed out any sort of pain you'd been feeling before. Frantically his hand slides over the soft skin of your stomach, fingers inching toward your clit to push you over. You catch his wrist. "T-too sensitive right now, 'zuku,” you pant, eyes shut tight in concentration, and his fingers intertwine with yours. "Sorry, honey. ‘m just not gonna... not gonna last much longer, ‘m sorry," Izuku shuddered, breath coming out in choppy short pants against your nape as he began to tremble. “you jus’ feel s’good and... mmmh!”

His words turn you into putty. Izuku always cared about your pleasure, often above his own and sometimes the quickest way to get you squirting was to go straight for your clit. "That's okay, ahh, 'm close too,” You mewled, feeling your eyes roll back into your head as you rapidly approached your peak. “cum for me, baby.” "Where, where?" You knew he was asking where you wanted him to cum, and you were quick to respond. "Inside, Izzy. Fill me up~" You moaned and Izuku's hips bucked, rewarding you with several desperate thrusts. The thought of filling you with his cum has Izuku's mind flooding with endorphins, his eyes squeezed themselves shut and his mouth fell open as he panted. You were practically singing out his praises to the heavens, begging, pleading, just crying out every little thing that came to mind. "Fuck–fuck baby, cum inside me!" That was all Izuku could take before he pulled you flush against his chest, burying himself as deep as possible as he spilled inside of your hot cunt. Sweet moans and strangled mewls filled your ears as he shook from the intensity of his orgasm, hips grinding against yours, providing you with enough friction to clamp down around him and tip over the edge yourself. You felt as if your skin was lit ablaze, your cramps dissolving in the face of white-hot ecstasy as wave after wave of pleasure overwhelmed you. Izuku whimpered as you squeezed around his softening cock, soft words of endearment helping you along as you slowly came down from your high. You felt your mind swimming in a pond of honey, everything seems slow and almost sickeningly sweet. It was like every bad feeling left you, and was replaced with an invigorating feeling of happiness. "Oh... god, hmm... that was amazmgnnn..." You sighed nonsensically, not bothering to make an effort to pronounce that last part. Izuku only chuckled, arms pulling you close as he cuddles you, pressing sweet kisses to your back and shoulders. "What was that, honey?" He laughed, and you only sighed out something even less coherent. You did your best to maneuver yourself around to face him without letting him slide out of you, too content with the feeling of being filled to let him go just yet. You snuggled up against his body, arms thrown over his neck as you playfully smothered him with your chest. You could feel his contagious giggles against your breasts, and he smirks up at you between your boobs. His strong, scarred arms wrap snugly around your waist, hips pressed flush against yours. At that point, you could feel your own blood caking both of your thighs, which was quite gross, but gross things are normal in a relationship and who really gives a shit at the end of the day? You can both shower in the morning and wash—or just toss the sheets entirely. "Do you feel better?" Izuku asked, eyes half-lidded and affectionate as they gaze up into yours. You nodded, curling your ankle around his knee to lay more comfortably. "Good." He kissed your nose and you grinned, sticking your tongue out to lick his own, giggling when his eyes crossed and his freckled cheeks flushed in surprise. "Do you wanna watch a movie or are you tired now?" "Mmmfgnn, if we watch a movie that means you have to pull out and I don't want you to so-" you paused to yawn, before continuing with sleepy after-sex clouded eyes. "Let's just got to sleep," "Are you sure you don't want me to warm up your water bottle?" Izuku asked, as doting as ever and so in tune with your comfort. Even if he himself would mourn the loss of your warmth wrapped so comfortably around his half-hard cock. "Don't need it, I have you." You slurred, eyes falling closed as sleep beckoned you. Izuku could only smile adoringly at your dozing face, craning his neck up to kiss your chin before snuggling his face against your chest to fall asleep himself. He hadn't realized how tired he was until now, he had been distracted though so it wasn't too much of a surprise that he had a sudden burst of energy when faced with the opportunity to please you. "G'night, Y/n..." "Ghmnnight, Igzhku..." Izuku couldn't help but laugh again at your total incoherency, though he could recognize some of the syllables of his name in the garbled speech you'd blessed him with. But that was good enough a response for him to close his eyes again and drift off with you.

[ncssian]

A Favor: Part Four

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: hey y'all. my new job has been draining the life out of me so i have very little energy left for writing, which is why these updates are taking so long. im still very passionate about this fic though, it just takes me more time to write :(

in other news, this chapter is saturated with descriptions of pain, both physical and emotional. i hated writing it but it was worth it.

***

Nesta, 14

Sometimes it all becomes too much. Feyre asking for help with homework and Elain begging for more money to go to the strip mall, and their dad ignoring them all as if they aren’t even there. Sometimes she wants to leave it all behind and pretend she isn’t anchored to three other people, wants to pretend she is a lone being in a lonely world.

When she needs to go away, she comes here.

Cherrywood House is quiet, as it always is this time of year. One of several expensive vacation homes in the Smokies, Cherrywood is Nesta’s favorite for a multitude of reasons— it’s empty for ten out of twelve months of the year, it’s the only house with a clear view of the nearby lake, and cherry blossoms bloom on trees out in the back every spring.

It’s early June, and she has a few more weeks left with the house until its owners return. The family that owns the place never leaves a trace of themselves behind when they leave each August, so Nesta returns the favor by never leaving hints of her inhabitance either.

She takes her worn Converse and socks off at the back porch and climbs in through the unlocked window barefoot. This is where she belongs. A ghost roaming the empty halls, with no one to care for and no one to care for her.

She makes her way upstairs to her preferred hideout spot: an airy bedroom with a bay window seat that looks out onto the cherry blossom trees outside. Cracking the window open to let the fragrance of flowers in, she settles into the bench seat with her book of the week and starts reading.

Absorbed in dreams of deep love and deeper kisses, Nesta doesn't notice the sun going down until she can barely make out the words on the page before her. Glancing up with sore eyes, she realizes she needs to leave soon if she doesn't want to take the wooded path back home in the dark.

“Damn,” she sighs, but she gets up and shuts the window firmly.

She keeps her nose in her book all the way down the hall and down the stairs, and doesn't sense anything off until a large shadow flashes in the corner of her eye. Her head whips up, and the face that greets her looks just as surprised as she is.

Nesta freezes.

“Um,” the guy says. He’s maybe a few years older than her, seventeen or eighteen, and tall with shaggy dark hair. The front door of the house is still cracked open behind him. “What the fuck?”

Nesta unfreezes. And then she runs.

All the way through the main hall and to the back door, while the boy’s shouts chase her through the house. “Hey, wait up!”

They weren't supposed to be here this early—

Her hand wraps around the back door handle and she flings it open, shoving through the second screen door and shooting right down the porch steps. Heavy steps behind her ignite a panic in her, and she gains a burst of speed.

“HEY!” he calls again. Soft grass becomes dirt and twigs beneath Nesta's feet, and she knows she's reached the tree line. Dark shadows fall over her as she darts into the safety of the woods.

Still standing on the back porch and waving a raggedy pair of Converse, Cassian tries calling for the girl one more time. “You forgot your shoes!”

Cassian wakes up at five in the morning to the sound of the house’s pipes creaking, a telltale sign that someone is using one of the faucets. Blinking his eyes open, he hears the distant sound of the shower running.

Who would get up in the freezing cold at this hour just to take a shower? He checks the time once more to make sure he isn't imagining things, and gets up to peek his head out of his bedroom. Sure enough, light leaks out from under the bathroom door.

Cassian walks up to the bathroom and listens closely for any sound beside running water. He knocks hesitantly. “Nesta?”

Her muffled voice calls back to him, but he can't make out a thing.

“Are you alright?” he asks. “How long have you been in there?”

There’s no response, and now he’s concerned. Raising his voice, he says, “I’m going to come in to hear you better, is that okay?”

A soft affirmative answers him, and he tries the doorknob. It’s already unlocked, which is odd, but he pokes his head into the steam-filled bathroom cautiously. “Nesta?”

From behind the curtain of the shower, a pale, tired face appears. She’s sitting on the floor of the tub, he realizes. “Hey,” she attempts a feeble smile at him.

Cassian fully enters the bathroom, the humidity dampening his skin. “Are you okay? When did you get up?”

“I’ve only been in here for an hour, maybe.” Her voice is weak enough that he has to move closer to hear her. “Don’t worry about your water bill. I’ll pay it, I swear.”

He shakes his head, confounded. “I don’t care about the water bill. You still haven’t told me if you’re okay.” He moves to crouch beside the bathtub, the opaque shower curtain the only barrier between them.

Nesta rolls her eyes, looking embarrassed. “It’s just cramps. I get really sick on my periods, and I would have warned you that they suck ass, but that would imply that my period could affect you. It doesn’t have to affect you— if you just leave me to myself for a few days, I won’t even be a bother.”

Cassian blinks, not really knowing where to start with that, so he just says, “But why the shower?”

Nesta shifts uncomfortably behind the curtain. “Sometimes hot water is the only thing that helps with the pain. I already tried getting out of the shower, but it hurt so bad— I had to go right back in. I’ll get out eventually, don’t worry.”

Cassian frowns. This all sounds incredibly worrying. “This is normal for you?”

She’s about to answer when her face pinches in a look of discomfort. “Cassian,” she says, strained.

He leans closer, wanting to help. “Yeah?”

“Get out.” She doesn't look like she has the energy to add anything else.

Cassian wants to defy Nesta and stay right there, but that would require arguing with her, and she clearly is no longer in the mood to hold up a conversation.

Reluctantly, he nods. “I’ll be right down the hall. Yell if you need anything.”

Nesta is already sinking lower into the tub, trying to get more fully under the burning hot spray. Her eyes drift closed and she hums in answer.

Cassian doesn't return to his room like he said he would, but heads downstairs instead. He spends a good ten minutes reading the drug labels of various painkillers from the medicine cabinet before carefully arranging a nonlethal cocktail of them on a tray. He adds a cold glass of water and various handpicked snacks before returning upstairs to set the tray by Nesta’s bedside, and turns the heat all the way up to combat the chill in her room, just in case.

Then he goes back to his room and waits. He tries to listen closely for the sound of the shower stopping, but he’s not used to being up this early on a Saturday, and his bed is so warm…

He falls asleep waiting.

***

Nesta stumbles out of the shower long after Cassian leaves her and downs a handful of pills without thinking too much about who left them for her. She already has an idea of how the next few days will go, and she just hopes Cassian will allow her the dignity to suffer through it alone.

She crawls into bed exhausted and shuts her eyes tight. The next time she opens them, sunlight is streaming weakly through the windows. Jarring pain lances through her abdomen, and she brings her legs all the way up to her chest and whimpers. From the edge of her consciousness, she notices the snack tray has been replaced with lunch— some leftover lasagna from the night before. Sneaking out her hand from her mountain of blankets, she goes for her phone. A text sent nearly an hour ago waits for her.

Cassian: please eat.

Nesta glares at the lasagna because she knows better. She might have spent this morning eyeing the bathroom tiles to determine if they were clean enough for her to curl up there and die, but she's not at a point to abandon her dignity just yet. The last thing her roiling nausea needs is solid food. Instead, she gathers the focus to text back Cassian: Leave me alone today.

It's only after she sends the message that she realizes it sounds harsh, but she can't bring herself to explain further or to soften her tone. Her pain always has a way of stripping her of any defenses and formalities and leaving only a primal creature behind.

Turning her phone off, she closes her eyes and inhales tightly through her nose. A wave of cramps that feels closer to what a brutal stabbing victim would feel like overtakes her, and— no, she has to get up.

During times like these, the bathroom is Nesta’s favorite place in the whole world. Cool tiles to rest her head on, hot water just a foot away, and a spacious tub if she ever feels like passing out. Heaven. Naturally, she escapes there first.

After maybe another hour of restless writhing and moving about, Nesta decides the suffering isn't worth it and hobbles downstairs in search of some Nyquil to knock her out. She’s got the medicine cabinet halfway open when a broad hand slams it back shut, and she turns to find Cassian standing behind her with a stern look. “You haven’t eaten anything all day. You can’t take meds on an empty stomach.”

Nesta wants to cry at the denial of pain relief, but she grips the counter behind her and manages a glare instead. “You can’t tell me what to do.”

“I will absolutely tell you not to wreck your liver, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

A desperate whine escapes her, and she can’t believe Cassian has to see her like this. Even worse, she sees sympathy soften his face as his hand slips off the cabinet next to her head. “I made soup,” he offers. “Can you have soup?”

Nesta hesitates. Her insides don’t hate the idea of soup. She nods.

***

Nesta insisted on avoiding Cassian for the rest of the day, and Cassian graciously eased off her back once he knew she’d eaten. He kindly pretended he didn’t hear her running back and forth from the bathroom all day because she couldn’t sit still, and only interrupted her once to make sure she took more Tylenol before bed.

Now, long after night has fallen, Nesta is truly alone. Her medicine either hasn’t kicked in yet or isn’t strong enough to do its job tonight. She can barely think straight, and this is when the most primal part of herself comes out.

Despite her age, despite everything, she still cries. She cries as if anyone would bother listening, physical pain intertwining with the pain and humiliation of being ignored. “Papa,” she calls into her pillow, again and again.

She hasn’t trusted her papa in years, and yet she still expects him to rescue her. She still waits for him to show up and make everything better.

A hot tear leaks from her eye, and the catharsis of it distracts from her cramps. She curls up into a ball and cries harder, as if she can weep out everything that’s wrong with her body.

A soft knock interrupts her helpless whimpers, and Nesta hears the door open a moment later. “Nesta? Were you calling for me?”

Somebody came. No one’s ever come for her before.

A sigh of relief escapes her, and she forgets to put her walls up. “I’m just—” she tries to say, “so tired.”

She hears Cassian come farther into the room and curse. “Fuck, it’s an icebox in here.”

A hand nudges at her mound of comforters, giving Nesta’s shoulder a shake. “You should’ve told me the heater wasn’t working. Are you okay?”

That question sets her on edge. “Do I look okay?” her voice cracks. She wants to cry even harder now that he’s here, for some reason.

“Obviously not,” he mutters. “You’re staying in my room tonight. Get up.”

Nesta groans and burrows further into her freezing cocoon of sheets. “Don’twannamove.”

“It’s either that or I’m carrying you. I’m good either way.”

Nesta finally cracks her eyes open, glad that Cassian is only a tear-blurred figure in the dark. She doesn’t want to read whatever is on his face right now. Gathering her heavy comforter around herself, she gets up and lets Cassian lead her down the hall to his room.

Toasty warmth hits her as soon as she’s inside, and she makes an exhausted sound and drops the comforter. In a blur, she’s tucked into Cassian’s bed, enveloped by his scent and his lingering body heat on the sheets. Under the dim lamplight, Cassian seems to finally take notice of the tear tracks on her face. Clicking his tongue in sympathy and concern, he rubs his thumb over the sensitive skin under Nesta’s eyes. Her whole body shudders under the gentle touch. Who knew just the pad of his finger could combat this inescapable agony?

“This isn’t normal,” he murmurs. “I’m taking you to a doctor as soon as this storm clears.”

If Nesta was in the right state of mind, she’d tell him absolutely not. However, she’s barely comprehending his words as it is, so she watches him click the lamp off in silence. Darkness fills the room, but she can hear him moving.

“I’ll be right back,” his voice rumbles, and then she’s alone again. More tears leak at the feeling of abandonment. She’s so sick of herself.

After what feels like an eternity but is only a few minutes, she hears Cassian return. The mattress dips behind her as he climbs under the blankets with her, and then Nesta feels something hot and dry being pressed to her side. A towel. “Does this help?” he murmurs, his voice surprisingly close to her ear.

Wordlessly, Nesta reaches down and takes his hand holding the hot towel, dragging it beneath the hem of her sweater so the heat burns against her bare skin. She sighs and allows her tensed body to sag, leaning back into the hard cradle of Cassian’s chest and arms.

In her ear, Cassian’s breathing has gone shallow. His hand slips from her side, only to find her back and start rubbing up and down.

Her eyes flutter shut.

“My mother was a Muslim immigrant from Algeria,” Cassian whispers out of nowhere. “And whenever I felt sick as a little kid, I would crawl into her lap and she would rub my back just like this, and say some prayers and blow on my face, and I would feel better.”

Nesta makes a weak sound of acknowledgment. That sounds nice, nicer than anything she ever knew growing up.

“I’m sorry I don’t know any prayers,” Cassian says. Then, Nesta feels a whoosh of breath tickle the side of her face. “Does that help?”

It feels weirdly good, and Nesta's shoulders start shaking. She doesn't know if she's holding in a laugh or a sob. Cassian’s hand stills on her back. “Nesta?”

A sharp wave of pain sets her straight. After she breathes through it, she tells him, “You don't need to pray. Just… keep talking to me.”

His hand resumes drawing circles on her back. “Alright.” And he whispers stories into her ear for the rest of the night, until she's fallen asleep and long afterward.

The next morning, Nesta is feeling much better. Cassian knows this because she’s sitting in the living room when he comes downstairs, straight-backed instead of hunched over in pain, and she’s regained the energy to glare at him.

Cassian’s relief at seeing Nesta okay hesitates at that glare. He slows on the bottom step. “How’re you feeling, sweetheart?”

“Don't call me that.”

He blinks, not sure what he did wrong. Before he can ask, Nesta says, “You didn't listen to me.”

“Excuse me?” He strolls deeper into the living area.

“I told you to leave me alone while I'm on my period, and you didn't listen. You dragged me to your room and made me spend the night with you.”

“You were crying for help,” Cassian says in disbelief. “What was I supposed to do? Ignore you?”

“Yes.” She looks even angrier. “It’s humiliating for me to have you see me like that. It's humiliating to have my own family see me like that.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way, but you’re—” He almost says overreacting, but some deep instinct tells him that word won’t fly well with Nesta. “You’re wrong,” he decides. “Whatever you think I’m thinking of you after last night, you’re wrong.” Cassian has no problem going into caretaker mode for Nesta; it's his natural state of being most of the time anyway. Besides, last night was… a new experience for him. For a multitude of reasons. “You can't tell me you go through that every month and have never had anybody take care of you.”

“I haven't, and for good reason,” Nesta seethes. “You had no right to see me like that.”

Cassian leans on the arm of a chair and crosses his arms, considering her. “Have you ever seen a doctor about your period?”

“That’s none of your business,” she snaps. Here is the Nesta that Feyre is always talking about: quick to anger and always on the defense, to the point that she comes off as unreasonable. Nothing like the helpless woman in tears from just the night before.

It brings out a rougher side of Cassian, one that wants to nip and bite at her boundaries instead of letting her be comfortable all the time. “That’s no way to talk to someone who stayed up all night to wait on you hand and foot, you know.”

“Don’t you dare hold that against me.” Nesta’s voice is dangerously cold.

“I’m not holding it against you. I’m taking you to a doctor.”

“No.”

“I already made an appointment.”

“Cancel it.” Her voice is brittle and she’s now trembling with restrained rage. Cassian doesn’t know if it’s because he’s refusing to give her a choice or if she just really doesn’t like doctors. Either way, it doesn’t change how Nesta ran out of bed at four this morning to puke her soup up. If it wasn’t for all this snow, he would have dragged her ass to the ER by now.

“I don’t have health insurance,” Nesta admits when she sees that Cassian won’t back down. “And I’ve made it this far without any cause for concern; there’s no reason to go.”

“Then I’ll pay for it,” he says simply. Her lack of care for her health astounds and angers Cassian at the same time. How is it that nobody, not even her family, has looked at this woman before and said You’re not okay, do you need help? How many times has she cried in pain with no one to listen?

Nesta has now stood up and is turning red in the face. “Absolutely not. Stop it.”

“Stop what?” Cassian smirks and straightens up.

“I’m not going to the doctor,” she barks. “Cancel the appointment.”

“No.”

“DO IT!”

In that moment, Cassian sees it. He sees how beneath the adult manner and adult words, the carefully crafted facade of cool, there is an explosive, tantrum-prone child. And he’s about to reveal her for good.

“It’s this Wednesday. I hope you don't mind skipping class.”

An enraged shriek shatters the air in the room, and before Cassian can even be shocked Nesta is verbally pouncing on him, yelling, “How fucking dare you, you complete shithead—”

“Nesta.”

“You have no right to— You’re so useless, this is why I didn't want to stay with you, this is why I never talked to you—”

“Nest—”

“You egomaniacal manipulative bastard— just because you let me stay in your house doesn’t mean you can tell me what to do—”

“Damn it Nesta, can you just shut up and LISTEN TO ME FOR ONCE!”

Nesta freezes and blinks, taken aback. Cassian immediately snaps his mouth shut, wondering if he’s finally crossed that line he’s been so cautiously toeing this whole time.

He watches her face closely, looking for signs of upset— or worse, fear. She only says, “Fine.”

He’s confused. “Fine, what?”

“Fine, I’ll go to the doctor’s.” Just like that, her fight is gone and the facade is back in place. She sets her jaw, but a hint of surprise and newfound discovery lingers in her eyes. “But I’m not letting you pay for it. It’ll have to come out of my own pocket.” She doesn't look happy about that part.

Cassian wants to argue her, but he knows how to pick and choose his battles. For now, he’s just baffled that he demanded Nesta to do something, and she listened.

He raised his voice at her. God, he yelled at her in anger and she only blinked in response, and now she’s listening to him. What kind of sick alien shit is this?

***

a/n: i love talking about these characters so if you ever get sick of waiting for part 5 just shoot me an ask and ill gladly discuss nessian with you

tagging: @ladywitchling @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @sensitiveillyrian @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx

[lihikainanea]

tiger napping at bill's house and she wakes up having started her period and shes so embarrassed and her cramps are terrible because she hasn't taken any pain meds but bill is so calm and understanding and helps clean her up, giving her a hot water bottle and does her tampon for her (bc you have made me obsessed with this idea 🥺)

Oh god this kink it is so strong and I am still SO ASHAMED.

Just a reminder that this is a JUDGMENT FREE ZONE. We are all safe here.

Look man, I don’t know if any of my lady friends out there have ever had the pleasure of starting a birth control pill. Whether it’s a start-from-scratch situation, or a change up situation where you were on one before but now you want to try a new one–but let me tell you, in my experience, it is absolute HELL ON EARTH. Get ready to gain 15lbs. Get ready to gain another 15lbs in just your bra, because your tatas will get huge. Get ready to be an emotional basket case. A total hormonal tornado. A HORMONADO, IF YOU WILL. But the most fun of all, is get ready to start your period literally any time, anywhere, completely unexpected for like, 6 months. Last year I had to switch to a pill with less estrogen and Jesus Christ, it was awful. I was either on my period for like 3 months straight at a time or it would just start RANDOMLY and it was a fucking cascade–and let’s keep in mind, too, that I am routinely on flights that last like, 16 hours. And that I train in martial arts, and our uniforms are white. Spontaneous crimson waves were literally my biggest fucking fear all of last year.

So like, look. Maybe Bill and tiger had a conversation one day–both of them always used condoms with previous partners because maybe tiger never really had a steady partner so condoms were a MUST, and maybe Bill always used them with his partners because he just felt a little better having double protection or maybe his partner insisted on it, who knows. Either way, once they start boinking on the regular, maybe they talk about it. Except they talk about it in true Bill and tiger fashion, which means one day over breakfast tiger just blurts out that she’s going to start taking an anti-baby pill that week so he doesn’t have to keep wrappin’ it before he’s tappin’ it and Bill just like, chokes on his orange juice. And once it’s out of his nostrils, once she’s gone back to reading the comics in the paper, he clears his throat and gently squeezes her feet–which are, of course, in his lap.

“Tiger are you sure?” he asks, “Aren’t they kind of…hard on your body?”

“I want to,” she shrugs, “For a lot of reasons.”

“If I’m the main reason, kid, I’m fine however we decide to…do it,” he stammers. And he’s turning a little pink and it’s adorable, “I don’t mind uh…I don’t mind wearing condoms.”

She smiles softly at him.

“I know,” she says, “And thank you. But it would be nice to also be more…regular. There’s a bunch of reasons, Bill. And I just want to.”

“Okay,” he returns her soft smile, “If you’re sure.”

And like, part of me wants to believe that he accompanies tiger to the doctor because she’s terrified of doctors. And while he obviously doesn’t go into the exam room with her, this mental image of Bill all folded in two in a tiny plastic chair, surrounded by pregnant ladies and posters of uteruses and these physical reconstructions of vaginas and vulvas just gets me cackling. He’s so uncomfortable.

ALRIGHT SO. Here we are. So tiger gets the pill, and she starts the pill. And it is hell on Earth. She’s bloated. Her tatas are sore. Literally nothing fits anymore–including her bras, which Bill needs to bite his fist and leave the room every time she changes and he just sees her swollen breasts spilling over the top of her bra. He wants to nose dive into her chest, but he knows she’s uncomfortable and feeling anything less than sexy.

But more than that her cycle is just…havoc. It is unpredictable. It happens any time, anywhere. He’s had to take her home smack in the middle of a dinner party at a nice restaurant when she’s emerged from the bathroom with a panicked look in her eye. He’s had to take his sweater off and wrap it around her waist, bring her to his car as she just cries because she’s mortified. And Bill feels just a tad responsible and a tad guilty, because he still thinks she’s doing this in large part for him. And he really, really feels for her because not only is her cycle unpredictable, but it’s also just a lot more painful than it usually is–which was already a lot. She’s doubled over in pain on the couch, she has trouble eating, she doesn’t want to move, she always gets a migraine. It’s awful for the poor thing.

And Bill just…god, Good Dude Bill. He makes it impossible to be embarrassed around, even when tiger is so fucking mortified. Because it’s inevitable–sometimes it starts in her sleep, and Bill has to gently shake her awake. And she just cries, because she’s in pain but she’s also just so embarrassed but all Bill tries to do is soothe her, comfort her, coax her into a hot shower while he changes the sheets and gets another hot water bottle ready for her. He’ll cuddle her on the couch when she just can’t move from it, wrapping around her and rubbing her stomach gently. And he really just does his best to try and take care of her–makes her lots of hot tea. Makes sure she eats as much as she feels up to eating. Helps her manage the pain a bit with some meds, and when it gets real bad, he runs the best bubble baths and he’ll just sit there in it with her for hours.

And I mean like, look. I don’t know how it happens. But I want it to happen, and I am now at the point where I’ll just FIGHT ANYONE WHO DARES JUDGE ME ABOUT IT. 

But maybe her body is kind of stabilizing a bit after a few months, so they think they’re in the clear. But she’s been complaining of a nagging backache for most of the day, a bit of a headache, and she seems rather oblivious that those are some signs she’s about to get her period and Bill is just looking at her with a quirked brow wondering how the hell someone could be so oblivious about their own body. In any case, he’s a little more aware than she is–but he knows better than to say anything.

But sure enough that night as they’re sleeping, he’s curled around her. And I kind of low key love this idea of a little alarm bell that goes off in his brain sometimes that he needs to check on Little Human. So he wakes up, and sure enough–he feels it. That wetness, all over the front of his boxers. He sighs, raises up a little to check on her–but she’s knocked out cold still, which is probably a good sign. It means she’s not in pain. 

He eases away from her slowly, goes to get a washcloth from the bathroom and some of her supplies. And when he crawls back to bed, he eases her onto her back and starts to pull her panties off. She stirs a little.

“It’s okay,” he whispers to her, and she settles a bit. He pulls her panties slowly down her legs and off, reaching to move her thighs a little further apart. She stirs again, shifts a little and grumbles. He presses a light kiss on her lips.

“What’re you doing?” she mumbles, and it’s sleepy and she’s not even half awake.

“Cleaning you up,” he says, “Stay still.”

And like, here’s the thing. Tiger is still in that floaty state, right? And god I hope none of you have ever had this happen to you, but ever fall asleep first at a slumber party, and then everyone pulls pranks on you? Because I have. I deadass fell asleep once and woke up in the MIDDLE of my friends writing on my face with a Sharpie, and I asked them what they were doing. And they told me they were writing on my face. And I was in that in-between stage, so I legit just said “awesome have fun” and went back to sleep.

Tiger’s halfway between sleep and rational consciousness, and she’s asking questions but not really registering the answers or at the very least, not getting panicked about them. Which is good.

“Why?” she asks, but she doesn’t move and her eyes are still closed. Bill hesitates, runs his hands softly over her stomach and she purrs a little.

“You got your period, kid,” he decides on honesty. And her brows furrow a little at that, and she makes as if she’s going to sit up.

“Oh,” she says, “Oh god.”

And she’s starting to wake up fully, but if he can just keep her relaxed enough, it’ll all be fine. He pushes down on her stomach a little harder, kisses her softly again.

“Relax, tiger. I’ve got you,” he says, “Go back to sleep.”

And he waits until she settles again, before grabbing the warm washcloth and cleaning her up. When he’s done he tosses it into the laundry bin before he grabs the tampon–which he unwrapped in the bathroom, so it wouldn’t make any noise because Bill’s a smart dude–and he puts a soothing hand on her stomach, scratching lightly as he just gently put it in for her. He tosses the rest into the trash, pulling the blankets back up and curling around her. And tiger is registering what’s happening, but she’s so goddamn tired and she’s just so comfy and feeling so fucking safe and well taken care of with him that she just lets it happen. Because it’s the middle of the fucking night, but he’s got those big warm hands running all over her and he’s cooing softly at her and just telling her that he’ll take care of her and she thinks that yes, yes that sounds perfect.

And you know what? You’d be a goddamn fool if you don’t think for a second that Bill is also humming with those good caretaker vibes, helping her, giving her what she needs, taking care of her. He tucks her into his chest and he’s feeling mighty good about himself, too.

But like, look, the next day? When tiger realizes exactly what happened? Oh god. She’s mortified. And Bill knows, because she tries to avoid him from the minute she wakes up.  She’s skittish, nervous, she leaves the room as soon as he comes in and it doesn’t take long for him to corner her and get all up in her space.

“Tiger,” he says as he bends to catch her gaze. She closes her eyes immediately. “Out with it.”

“Out with what?”

“You know what,” he accuses.

“Bill, who does that?” she snaps and her cheeks are turning bright red, “God it’s just so…so….so weird and gross.”

“Me, I do that,” he tells her as he tilts her chin up, “And it’s not weird or gross, so shut up.”

“Bill, you literally put a–”

“I know what I did,” he interrupts, “And it wasn’t the first time I’ve done it. It won’t be the last, either. I told you kid, one of my ex’s was really into that sort of thing.”

Tiger finally meets his gaze as her features contort into a look of disgust, her lip curled. Bill rolls his eyes.

“Tiger, look. I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable,” he says earnestly, but Bill knows. He knows she’s embarrassed, but he also knows that she didn’t stop him last night.

“But if it didn’t…” he continues, and he bends to take her face in his hands as his eyes sweep over her, “If it didn’t, then that’s also not something you should be embarrassed about, either.”

Tiger is turning progressively more purple. And she reaches up and fiddles awkwardly with the neckline of his shirt.

“It’s weird,” she mutters. And she sounds an awful lot like she’s trying to convince herself. Bill waits, lets the silence hang until she meets his eyes–which are nothing but kind, honest, not an ounce of judgment anywhere.

“Did you like it?” he smiles warmly at her. She huffs, tries to take a step back but he still has her face in his hands. He kisses her softly, reassuringly, but he doesn’t let her get away.

“Did you?” he asks again.

“Bill,” she whines, but he looks at her expectantly, “I didn’t….I didn’t hate it. Alright? I didn’t hate it.”

He still has the same lopsided, soft grin on his face.

“I….like it when you take care of me,” she admits. She’s rewarded with another soft kiss.

“And I like taking care of you,” he says. He wraps his arms around her, squeezing her tight to his chest. She sighs.

“Want lunch?” she asks, both because she’s desperate to diffuse an awkward situation and desperate to change the subject.

“Sure,” he chuckles, and he breaks away from her. 

“Then get out of my kitchen, it’ll be ready in a few minutes,” she says. He winks as he turns to walk away but before leaving completely, he turns back to her.

“Oh, and tiger?” he says, and she meets his gaze, “When it comes to you? Nothing is ever off the table. I don’t care how weird you think it is–I’m down. Remember that, kid.”

[superrobotmonkeyteamramblingsgo]

Cradle Grove

Summary: Sprx, Otto, Nova and the birth of their children. A/N: Look, sometimes when your dealing with a bout of depression and being overworked at your job, you cope by writing fluff about your OT3 having children. And at this point the Spottova twins AU is my default for when I need fluff.  Warnings for depiction of pregnancy and birth. 

Nova paced along her bedroom floor.  

She switched to it after spending the last fifteen minutes tossing and turning and ultimately being unsuccessful in finding a way to be comfortable in bed.  

Otto and Sprx were still in their bed, looking at her worryingly from their piles of blankets and pillows. “You sure you don’t want to try resting again?” Otto asked, as Sprx nodded his head in agreement.  

Nova shook her head as she kept her pace. “Nah, I don’t want to sit down. Moving is at least a bit more comfortable.” She winced and rubbed her belly.

The kids kicking up a storm again?” Sprx asked, his tone far more relax than his tense posture suggested.  

Otto wasn’t as bad, but he looked just as ready to grab her and bolt to the med bay any moment. “Or are you having one of those ‘practice’ contractions again?” 

“Kind of a bit of both,” She rubbed again at her bulging belly, “They’re not exactly kicking, but it’s so cramped that any bit of movement is gonna hit me,” She looked down at her big belly, which really wasn’t that big. It was obvious that she gained weight, but the bump was rather moderate considering that carried twins. Or at least that was how it seemed compared to humans, who often looked like they stuck a ball under their shirt, even when carrying just one baby  

Really, humans made pregnancy way more complicated then it needed to be. Nova didn’t even have to deal with morning sickness! Made Nova glad she was a monkey.  

And being a monkey, she wanted fresh air and trees.  

“I’m going for a walk,” She said turning towards their bedroom door, “You guys want to come with me?”

Sprx rolled his eyes as he hopped out of bed “Like you have to ask.”  

“Want to go to the usual place?” Otto added as he followed. “I got the buggy all ready.”  

It had been like this the past few nights, resorting to night-time walks when she couldn’t sleep. Her mates adjusted accordingly, with Otto happy to use his specially-made, non-moon buggy as a means of transport for them to get past the city limits.  

Nova also knew that they had an emergency bag in the vehicle, just in case they needed in while they were out.  

The buggy had been ‘theirs’ long before these night trips began, not exclusive to the rest of the team but used by them enough that their scent permeated the vehicle. Like most of Otto’s buggies, the top was a convertible and open now, allowing Nova to feel the wind as Sprx drove. She breathed deep, taking in the mixed scents of her mates and the night air. Her stomach still twitched with movement, a low throbbing of what she couldn’t even call pain, not yet though it will get there, and easily ignored as she arched into the breeze and enjoyed the open sky.  

The first night it took her a while to finally figure out where she wanted to go, but in hindsight it was so obvious.  It was the outskirts, the forested area where once upon a time Chiro found the Super Robot.  

Without the Super Robot, which stayed at its docking station in Shuggazoom, the areas was an unassuming forested area with an indent in the grass that still marked where the Super Robot once stood. It was weird to think that for years they were sleeping here while the rest of Shuggazoom continued to thrive in their absence.

Once the buggy slowed down, before Sprx even got it to completely stop, Nova leaped out, followed by a concerned Otto as Sprx finished parking.  

Nova took a moment to feel the grass and dirt between her toes, the smell of the earth, and the sight of the night sky between the canopies of leaves. Maybe that is why she gravitated towards here. A primal, instinctive part of her wanted to return to the area of her origin. The Alchemist’s lab was too far away and in too dangerous of a place. But here was where the Hyperforce under Mandarin ended and their family with Chiro began.  

So it is fitting that here would be where the next stage of their family would begin.  

Nova leaned against a tree, illuminated by the light of the full moon that shined through the foliage above, and groaned as the contractions began again.  

Sprx’s head popped to attention from the driver’s seat in the buggy “You’re in labor!”  

“Then we need to get back to the Super Robot and get Gibson!” Otto was ready to jump back into the buggy, but Nova reached out, grabbing his wrist to stop him, though there was no way for her to also reach Sprx.

“No, I want to give birth here, with just the three of us. We started this together so we can do this together!” Nova tinged with guilt as she saw how worried and scared they look. The original plan was for her to give birth in the Super Robot, with the rest of the team on standby, but it was only within the past couple of days she had begun feeling this urge to give birth here.  

“But what if-” Otto began, but she cut him off.  

“I know you’re worried that something is going to go wrong, but we’re prepared for this. We’ve done our research and I know you guys have a kit in the buggy for this. If something does go wrong the rest of the team can get here quick, but everything my body is telling me that everything will be okay.”  

“But-” Her two mates begin at the same time, but the shaking of her head is enough to silence them.  

“Please, just trust me and my instincts.”  

Otto looks over to Sprx, an entire conversation going between them with just their eyes. Then Sprx sided, jumping out of the buggy with their emergency bag in hand. “Alright, if this is what you want.”

“But we’re getting the others at first sign of trouble,” Otto added, shifting so that he could hug her, the gentle grip of a hug he long since adapt so he wouldn’t squish her belly.  

Nova smiled, giving Otto a thankful nudge with her forehead. Then she winced, arching her back in his arms and moving her hands to try to press on her back.

“Is it really painful?” Otto asked, eyes wide as Sprx momentenly paused as he was going through their pack.  

“Not really, it’s more of a pressure at this point. Not painful, more uncomfortable than anything.”  

Sprx finished unpacking the last of the equipment and blankets (most of them hand-stitched by Otto when he went through this own ‘nesting’ period) before squeezing behind her and the tree she was leaning against. His hands began massaging the part of her back her hand tried to reach, kneading it like it was dough. “How’s this?”  

Nova moaned, this time out of relief. “It feels wonderful.” With her hands now free, she gripped onto Otto, who weaved his arms around hers in turn. He rubbed his hands up and down her arms, worried about the chill in the air affecting her.  

“I’m not actually that cold,” She admitted, despite the temperature of the night. But the contractions, as mild as they were now, kept her warm enough. “I am thirsty though.”  

Otto nodded, and reached for the small cooler, one specifically built for this, from this pile of things. Among the research he and Sprx did in preparation for this was some tips taken from human deliveries, like the use of ice chips. He popped one into Nova’s mouth, who hummed as she sucked on it.

Are you also hungry?” They had some snacks and rations among their supplies, the former for taste and the latter more for dense nutrition content.  

“No,” Nova crunched and swallowed the last bit of the ice, then turned to give Sprx a smile even as she disrupted him. “And my back’s feeling fine now. I actually kind of want to walk for a bit.”  

So she began pacing again, this time among the forest with her mates following her like ducklings. Sometimes the pressure would become too much again, so Sprx would resume his massage while Otto was always ready with the ice chips. In between, she began fussing with the spot in the grove by the tree, the area she choose to give birth at. She began arranging the towels they brought along into a nest of sorts, which Otto and Sprx helped her with. Then things would resume, with them alternating between walks, massages, and ice chips.

They stayed like that with only the moon and stars as company, until there was a change, the pressure actually giving way to pain as there was a shifting in her body. It was jarring enough to prompt a sudden hiss from her, which her mates reacted to as if she was screaming bloody murder.

“It’s fine, I’m fine.” She looked down, where a trail of liquid flowed down her legs onto the towel nest, “But it's time for me to push,” She settled into a squat, hand grabbing onto Otto’s arms for support. Sprx was still behind her, his hands quickly finding their place on her back again, rubbing it tentatively at first before continuing once she didn’t protest.  

Now the pressure gave way to an urge to push and with it there was pain with each contraction. But Nova found that she didn’t mind it, especially compared to what she had been through. It was more akin to the soreness of overstretched muscles after a workout, a kind of productive pain that would result in a new life. 

It was far better than the pain she endured during the war.  

So Nova pushed, moaning and then reassuring her boys that she was fine, this was normal and just when she buried most of their fears and worries, she dug them back up by letting out a sudden and loud gasp.

But this time she was smiling with eyes full of awe-struck stars. One of her hands let go of Otto’s arms and reached behind as she exclaimed “I can feel the head.”

Sprx had been keeping his eyes target-locked on the back of Nova’s helmet, more focused on her breaths and sounds to really look down there. But now he did, and there was a tiny monkey head that she had maneuvered her hand to touch.  

He would never admit it, but in truth Sprx was one of the more squeamish members of the team, probably only outdone by Gibson in that area (who still couldn’t deal with bugs, even after all this time). He learned to work with it, since the Hyperforce had the unfortunate tendency to deal with disgusting things, and one technique was preparing. It was so much easier to deal with slime and goop when you anticipated. He and Otto educated themselves on what would happen during the birth, and while there were no cases of robot monkey births they compensated by watching whatever records of regular monkey births they could find.

But more than that was the unparalleled love and joy Sprx felt as he looked at the tiny head. Because here was the baby they spent so long preparing, waiting, and anticipating and now they were finally here. It was just like when they first saw the babies on the ultrasound, or felt them kicking for the first time. They knew, of course, that the babies were real but it was instances like these the reality of it washed over them again.  

Sprx gathered his wits, pulling reluctantly away from taking in his child’s appearance, to grab one of the softest blankets and place his open arms under them. “I’ll catch them.”  

Nova receded her arm, returning her hold to Otto’s as she grunted, bore down, and pushed, and then the little monkey slide into Sprx’s waiting hands.  

Sprx still remembered the nightmare they had about the Alchemist and the lab they saw, with their baby selves in the tubs. But the baby monkey he was holding seemed so much smaller and delicate, being swallowed by the blanket as he tried to clean and warm her.  

“Otto, come look at your daughter,” Sprx choked out through tearing eyes as he held the bundle. “She’s amazing!’

“Our daughter,” Otto corrected, because even from looking over Nova’s shoulders he could see the little face poking out from her swaddle. As fine and thin as her hair was, it was still unmistakably green once cleaned.

(There was a fear, a lingering doubt that once the babies were born and their actual parentage deduced, that it disrupt the dynamics of their relationship.)  

Otto reached for a hemostat to clamp down on the umbilical cord. “Wanna cut the cord, Daddy?”  

Sprx, eyes still specked with tears, nodded and then cut it, taking another moment to make sure the baby was still comfortable in her bundle. She fussed a bit, but quieted once she was swaddled up against his chest, her black button of eyes staring up at him.  

“Let me see her,” Nova said, letting go of Otto so he could step out of the way for Sprx and taking his spot behind her. As excited as she was to meet her daughter, she reigned it in as she ever gently and carefully took her from Sprx. “Look at you! We’ve been waiting so long for you to join us!” She cooed as she peppered her forehead with kisses (and ignoring the urge to lick her clean – some instincts were better off not being followed). 

Nova wanted to hold her daughter longer, but the twinge of another contraction reminded her that she wasn’t done yet. “Now Daddy’s gonna hold you,” She handed the bundle to Sprx, groaning as she pushed. “And in a moment your brother or sister is going to join us.”

“You got this Otto?” Sprx asked, seeing his green mate grabbing a blanket and positioning himself to catch the next baby.

“Yeah, I’ll get the baby, I can even see the head!” He said, a bit too cheerful. It was a good thing Sprx and Nova were too busy with everything going on to pick up how forced his tone was, or how he was biting at his lips.

Were baby monkeys suppose to look so bloodied? There didn’t seem to be an increase in blood and most of the fluids staying relatively clear. Everything else was going so well, and Nova did say to trust her and her instincts, and right now his instincts weren’t screaming at him that something was wrong. So he stayed quiet as the younger twin fell into his awaiting blanket. He immediately began rubbing it clean, feeling better as she squeaked in protest at his movement, showing no problems with breathing or her heart.

“Oh,” He immediately smiled, his voice full of genuine joy again as he also began tearing up, because everything was alright. “Sprx, come and look at your daughter.” Because the baby monkey in his hands stayed red, no matter how much she was cleaned.

Sprx looked shocked at he saw his other daughter, but the he smiled and he kissed Otto’s check as he managed a free hand to grab another hemostat to clamp off the cord like Otto did for him. “And now I think it is your turn to cut the cord, Daddy.”

Otto took his turn, and once they were disconnected, Nova fell to her knees among her nest of blankets, panting but smiling and being so happy. Her boys, as entrapped as they were in their newborn children, still remembered she was there. She didn’t have to ask before they placed the twins in her arms, each one still so small despite the blankets they were wrapped in that she could easily hold one in each arm.

“My girls, my beautiful girls,” She made sure her younger, red child was kissed just as much as her older twin had been. “It’s so good to finally meet you! I’m your Mommy and these are you Daddies!” She smiled at her boys, a smile as bright as the sun that began raising over the horizon. “See, I told you everything would be okay!”

Sprx chuckled as he sat next to her. “Yeah, you were right!”

“And you were amazing!” Otto hugged her, being so careful about the babies in her arms. “Thank you Nova!”

“And thank you, for staying by my side.” Nova closed her eyes, taking a moment to appreciate the babies in her arms, and the arms around her. She had her boys and her girls and all was right in the world

There were still things to do. The afterbirth would still need to be delivered and dealt with, and Nova would prefer to try to nurse the girls before they left to return to the Super Robot. And then there would be the rest of the team to introduce their new nieces to.

But for now, in that grove, the new family of five was simply content to take a moment to just be.

[pllandcompany]

Out Loud (Part Two)

Summary: Hospital!AU. The aftermath.

Warnings: talk of gun violence/injuries, mention of blood, mention of medical procedures, life or death situations, mention of anxiety, depression and past suicidal thoughts, mention of past addiction and drug use, flashbacks/PTSD symptoms

Pairings: QPP Moxiety and budding romantic Logince

Tagged: @ziallwarrior @thefallendog @jakesmolbean @a-ghosts @band-be-boss-blog @thecatchat @flyingfreeyt @apologieslogan

Notes: The cliffhanger meets its resolution! (I know, I was evil for that, I’m kind of sorry.) I figured the boys have been tortured enough; let’s let them heal…mostly. The end does get a little intense. Also, I made use of a certain slow-voiced short character....wink wink! As always, please heed the warnings and enjoy!

Roman shifted uncomfortably in the chair across from the therapist’s desk. His bruised ribs were still sore from the surgery to remove the small piece of metal that threatened to take his life. He shifted again, welcoming the pain that came with each movement.

It was a reminder that he won. A reminder that he was still alive.

“Dr. Courtland? Are you all right?” Roman shook his head, the voice jolting him out of his thoughts. “Of course, Nate. I’m here, I’m with you.”

The psychiatrist smiled gently at his colleague. “Now, Dr. Courtland, I know we know each other but you know that here I’m Dr. Christopher,” he intoned in that slow, gentle baritone that seemed to instantly put anyone at ease.

“But that’s such a mouthful,” Roman joked blandly. His affect had been intensely dulled as of late but that didn’t seem to off put the friendly therapist. “Well,” he began, “I suppose we can drop the formality for now. This is our third session. I’m glad you chose to come back in.”

“I’m a neurologist. Of course I value the importance of mental health. And we as a hospital went through a highly traumatic experience so it’s important to talk about how we’re feeling. I fully respect that, Nate.”

Dr. Christopher nodded, slow and thoughtful. “And how are you feeling, Roman? Are you respecting your emotions?”

Roman paused, the question catching him off guard. “I’m definitely feeling. Can’t speak on exactly what judgments I’m making on those feelings though.”

“And what do you feel?”

“Surprised, honestly. After getting the green light here, I was expecting to be antsy about getting fully cleared for surgery but I’m perfectly willing to wait for my physical.” Nate scribbled down a quick note before looking up. “Right, yes, that's the last step for you. Anything else?”

“I’m worried about Logan. Uh, Dr. Taylor, I mean.”

“I understand that you two have been seeing each other lately.” Roman tensed again, wincing when his ribs screamed at him. “Don’t worry, Roman. Patient-doctor confidentiality, remember?”

Roman allowed his features to fall into a gentle smile. “Yeah, we…we have. It’s part of why I’ve kept coming back even after you cleared me. I hoped that if he saw me healing in every sense of the word he’d be…motivated to do the same.”

“Do you think he’s not healing?

“He’s certainly not talking about it! To me, to anyone.”

“Well, he’s not known to be overly public about much of anything. Maybe he’s just the type that heals privately?”

“I’d be inclined to agree with you but he also won’t let anyone clear him for surgery. He just hides in the skills lab all day until his shift is done, maybe he’ll come out for a consult.” Roman sounded slightly panicked now. The astute therapist quickly sensed his distress and signaled him to breathe which Roman complied with willingly. Non-verbal communication of self-care seemed to work best with the neurosurgeon as verbal orders occasionally made him feel patronized. Nate had learned this the hard way in session one and since then they developed a system of sorts that helped Roman to manage his rapidly shifting emotions. Taking his cue from Roman, Nate continued to speak. “I understand your concern. And yes, it does worry me that he’s refusing to operate but as hard as it is, you have to focus on you even when someone you love is hurting. Heal yourself first then you can help him. So I’ll ask again: How are you feeling?”

Roman swallowed thickly, nerves coiling in his belly. He couldn’t avoid the question now, it was too direct. He cleared his throat and shifted once again, the pain jolting through him like lightning. “How do I feel, Nate? I…I’m terrified…all of the time. Someone moves too fast next to me and I jump out my skin. Yesterday, Virgil dropped a chart and I hit the floor. I walk into a patient’s room and if I see their family there, my heart starts pounding out of my chest because I’m afraid to make even the slightest mistake in front of them lest they suddenly pull out a gun. I am a surgeon, I am supposed to be composed and-and strong and dependable but lately I am just…scared. So tell me, Nate,” he leaned in glaring at the therapist, “how do I fix that?” Nate leaned in, clasping both hands in front of him, a sign that he was considering his words carefully.

“It takes time but the first step to healing? You name it. You call the demon by its name. And Roman? You just did that.”

Roman slowly sat back, his glare fading into something much gentler, a fragile and silent hope blossoming in his heart for the first time in weeks.

****

“Virgil Davidson? Patton Parker?” The two doctors’ heads swiveled around in unison, causing Dr. Christopher to chuckle. They walked in hands intertwined, a symbol of both their combined trust and trepidation of this upcoming session. Nate gestured for the two to sit which they did while still conjoined, an action unmissed by the observant doctor. “Well, doctors, it’s good to see you both here.”

Patton chimed in first. “Um, not that I’m complaining but why are we both here? Virgil wouldn’t say much about it.”

Nate smiled reassuringly. “May I?” he asked, indicating towards Virgil who nodded, slow and small. “Well, Dr. Parker, in our last session Dr. Davidson expressed that there is something he’s wanted to ask you for a while but he hasn’t known how to articulate it. I suggested he bring you here to a safe space where we could work through any potential issues that arose.”

Patton turned to look at Virgil, concern and hurt etched into his brow. “Virgil…you know you can talk to me about anything. Not that I mind being here but you don’t have to bring me to therapy to confront me.”

“Is there something you’re concerned would come up in therapy? Something you may not want to confront?” Nate read between the lines of Patton’s reassurance like a book. Patton froze momentarily before breaking into a brilliant grin. “No, of course not! I’m an open book, Dr. Chris.” Nate nodded his face impassive while he notated the stilted manner of Patton’s speech. “Dr. Davidson, whenever you’re ready.”

Virgil took several calming breaths before he actually opened his mouth. “Pat…I wanted to ask you…if you were okay after…you know, after everything that’s happened.” Patton scrunched up his face in confusion. “Of course I am, Virge. You know that. You see me every day.”

“I know but…I’m worried. We haven’t slept with the light off since-“

“I know, Virgil.” Patton sounded suddenly defensive. Nate noted that he had dropped Virgil’s hand. “You know where I was.”

“I do, Patton. But…do you know who you are?”

“What? Virgil, you’re not making sense.” Patton was shaking his leg now, a rare signal of anxiety creeping in.

“Just hear me out, Pat. You delivered a baby by the light of a cellphone. You developed a system of silent communication on the fly. You calmed a panicking resident and saved the lives of everyone in that room. By all accounts, you are a hero. But the way you’ve been acting when you think no one’s looking…it makes me wonder if you think anything of yourself at all.”

The bouncing ceased to a halt. “I…I don’t know what to say, Virgil. I’m sorry.”

Virgil shook his head forcefully. “You don’t have to apologize. Just listen. You told me something afterwards. When that…man banged on the door to your room, you said that there was a point where you thought you would have to give yourself up.”

“Stop it, I don’t want to talk about that.”​ Virgil looked over at Nate in panic but the therapist simply nodded calmly to keep going. He then grounded himself once more and started again. "Pat, just hear me out, please. I only bring it up because I'm scared of how easily you could even consider giving up your life. I mean, did you even think of me?"

Patton's head turned back to the younger man on a swivel. "How could you say something like that? Of course I thought of you. Every second I thought of you. It would not have been an easy choice to make."

"But before-"

"That's not what this is about." Patton turned to Dr. Chris who seemed to be asking a silent question. "Dr. Chris, Virgil is referencing my first couple of years in med school. I struggled with depression and had some...scary thoughts. Never attempted anything and with help, I pulled myself out of it. That dark period...shaped me into the doctor that I am today. It made me value human life so much more, including my own. So no, Virgil, on this one, you're wrong. It's not that."

"Then what is it, Pat?!" The words exploded out of him before he could refine into something gentler. "I mean...I know it's something. You've held me together these past few weeks, sat with me through countless nightmares and anxiety attacks. But anytime I try to do the same for you or talk about what happened, you shut down and pretend that everything is fine when it's not. So please, talk to me. Why are you running from this?"

"Because I don't know how to do this, Virgil!" Patton shouted.

"Do what, Pat?"

"Any of this! I mean, depression I get but this...this fear? This anger, I do not understand how to deal with it at all." Nate perked up at the last thing Patton said. "Talk to me about the anger, Dr. Parker. Tell me the truth of what you're feeling."

There was a long, pregnant pause before the fetal surgeon started again, his voice raising with every word he spoke. "I...am angry for Melody! This was her first child, one she finally got to have after years of sacrificing her desires for her career. It was supposed to be one of the best times of her life but instead she now has this permanent and horrifying memory. I'm angry that her baby was born into violence when they should have been born into a world that's safe for them. I'm angry that some...person with an axe to grind decided to take the lives of thirteen of our friends and colleagues and leave the rest of us terrified for our lives! I'm angry that I'm so scared that I can't sleep without the lights on, that Virgil can't make it through the night without a nightmare, that Roman got shot and almost died, that Logan...I just...I hate what that man has done to our family! I hate him! And I hate myself for becoming the kind of person that hates people but I do and it makes me sick so I don't talk about it. I'm supposed to be grateful. I'm supposed appreciate human life but his life? The shooter? Well...I'm glad he's dead." Patton looked physically ill at that last admission. He turned to Virgil with a look of defeat on his face. "There. I said it. Happy now?"

Virgil sighed, actually looking relieved. He cuddled Patton's cheekbone with his hand and wiped his thumb across his lower eyelid. "Oh thank God," he breathed, "you're finally crying." Patton blinked a few times before he realized the magnitude of what he'd been holding in and finally chose to let go. Nate quickly conjured a box of tissues from the desk behind him and waited for the two doctors to compose themselves. "Damn it Virge," Patton chuckled through his tears, "you're brilliant, you know that?" Virgil shifted uncomfortably. It didn't go unnoticed by Patton. "Honey...were we maybe projecting when you said I didn't think much of myself?" Silence. "Virgil..you helped save Roman as much as Logan did, you know. You kept him alive and safe until he got there. You're a hero too."

"But if I had been able to help him more, Logan wouldn't have had to come at all and he wouldn't have had to go through-"

"Stop." Patton cradled Virgil's face in his hands. "What happened to Logan is not your fault. It is that man's fault. You did nothing wrong. You did everything you could and Roman is so grateful to you for it. You are good, Virge. You're so good. Believe me when I say that, okay?" Virgil nodded, blinking his own tears. Nate chuckled, drawing the attention of both doctors. "Well, you two are so good together, it seems like you hardly need me."

That day, both doctors walked with yellow slips marked with a "cleared" stamp.

****

In hindsight, maybe directly after a shooting wasn't the best time to start a relationship. Roman hadn't been able to resist the raven-haired surgeon who had been by his side since he operated on him, hoping beyond hope for him to wake up. When his eyes finally met with Logan's gaze of tearful relief, the sight broke Roman's defenses down and he'd ended up confessing the depth of his feelings right then and there. He would never forget Logan's earnest reply before the soft, passionate kiss they'd shared: "I don't ever want to be without you." It was the romantic's ultimate dream fulfilled, a beautiful moment born out of such unspeakable tragedy.

Such a shame that honeymoons always have to end.

Roman hadn't anticipated just how unspeakable their shared tragedy had become for his lover. He walked into the foyer of Logan's apartment, greeted by the same heavy silence that had prevailed over these past few weeks. "Logan?" He entered the bedroom to find the cardiologist still under his comforter with his back towards the door, obviously not having moved in quite some time. "You didn't go into work today." A statement, not a question. "I had no consults today. Didn't see much of a point." The monotone response only served to sink Roman's heart further. He sat on the opposite side of the bed from Logan, fighting the urge to deflate and join him. No, he would not sink into the encroaching darkness. He was going to help pull Logan out of it. "I had my physical today. I'm officially fully cleared for surgery.

Silence. Overwhelming silence.

Roman cleared his throat, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm scared to operate too. But we have to try. It's who we are."

"Thirteen people." It was barely audible but Roman caught it instantly. "Logan..."

"Thirteen people are dead because of the last time I operated."

"The last time you operated, one person lived." Roman was fighting back anger now; it wasn't fair for Logan to hurt like this. To hurt so much he couldn't see the good anymore. "You are not a killer. The man who shot those people is the murderer, not you."

"His name," Logan said listlessly, shifting to get up and walk to the bathroom, "is David Bacall." The door closed with such a finality that Roman barely fought the urge to scream. Instead, he sat there helpless, choking on the thickness of his inability to help console his partner. "I'll make us dinner," he said to no one in particular, leaving the room just as empty as he felt inside.

Once Logan entered the bathroom, he braced himself on the sink as the flashbacks began. He looked in the mirror at hollow eyes and sunken cheeks that morphed into the stone faced features of David Bacall in the background, a cold metal gun so close to his face his eyes crossed slightly to focus on the end of it.

"Mr. Bacall. You don't have to do this."

"I didn't want to do this. I came here for two people, not over a dozen. But it was brought to my attention that your beloved Chief Thomas was away on conference and I got...angry."

"Killing people doesn't solve anything. It doesn't help the anger. And it doesn't bring your wife back."

"YOU WOULD KNOW, WOULDN'T YOU?!" He shook the gun wildly, sending Logan's body into internal convulsions from the fear. His face didn't betray him, though, he remained visibly calm and collected. He had to if he had any shot of diffusing the situation. "I am not a killer," he whispered, "I am a doctor. I work to save lives, not end them."

"Oh really? And I quote. '33 year old Lauren Bacall came into Sanders-Stokes Memorial presenting with cardiac symptoms due to a complication from a heart defect. Protocol indicated a long but mostly effective procedure which I initially determined as the surgical plan. However, the chief of surgery took an interest in the case. Upon further research, he found a new protocol being tested at Baylor for the same defect. Recovery and operating times were shorter but the procedure was more complex and risky. The chief strongly recommended that I do the new procedure as he believed it was in favor of the patient. I agreed and adjusted my plan accordingly. Unfortunately, upon attempting the new protocol, the patient became unstable and subsquently died from cardiac failure.' That's exactly what you said at the deposition. And those sharks sided with you. But that's not the whole story, is it? You didn't tell them how you had reservations about the surgery, how you and Chief Thomas fought in your office over it."

"You shouldn't have overheard that."

"Admit it, Dr. Taylor. You didn't want to do the procedure."

"I agreed-"

"Against your better judgment, you chose to the procedure that killed my wife! And now you're responsible for all of this! Admit it! You did this! ADMIT IT! NOW!"

"I am not responsible-"

"YES! YOU ARE! YOU HAD A CHOICE AND YOU CHOSE WRONG! ADMIT IT!"

Logan couldn't find the words over the deafening sound of the safety clicking. Bacall's hands shook violently and Logan couldn't tell if it was from fear or determination. The tears choking his tone indicated both.

"You...killed my wife. Your hands...murdered her."

"No," Logan said weakly. "Her heart was too weak. She could have died regardless of what I did-"

"DON'T YOU DARE BLAME HER FOR THIS! YOU KILLED HER!" Bacall panted, breaths rushing from his lips like an angry dragon. Tears and sweat mixed together and ran down his face. He was unraveling; Logan knew it was any minute now before he snapped completely. Without warning, Bacall's face twisted into a sinister sneer, a look that unnerved Logan to his core. "Dr. Taylor...do you know else you've killed?"

"I have not killed anyone-"

"The thirteen people that were shot here today. You wanna know how you killed them? You see, the day my wife died...I died too. I stopped living. I stopped breathing. I became a shell and the only thing I could focus on was making things right. I had one mission: evening the score. Taking out the people responsible for the death of the best thing that ever happened to me. But there were so many...obstacles and I was so...angry because I couldn't find either one of you...until now. And now I have you right where I want you." Bacall calmly lifted the gun that was wildly gesticulating seconds prior, his grip steady and his aim true. Logan closed his eyes, acceptance breaking his heart into pieces. "So this...this is for Lauren."

A shot rang out in the air and Logan felt something warm spray across his face. He couldn't bear to open his eyes and see the damage Bacall had inflicted. Instead he sensed desperately for the blinding pain at the point of entry. Maybe he didn't fatally wound him, maybe he could get to Virgil...the pain never came. Was he already...no, that's his heartbeat, he's still alive. But why?

"Sir. Sir, are you all right?" Who was that? "Sir, are you hurt? We have to evacuate this part of the building, can you walk or do you need assistance?" Police. He was surrounded by police. He was alive. But why? And who's blood...? He slowly opened his eyes. Bacall's.

"Sir, can you walk? We have to move." Logan stammered before he finally found his voice. "N-no, I can't leave! My coworker is very hurt and I'm the only surgeon on the unit who can save him!"

"You know where he is? I'll escort you to him." Logan nodded and began running in the direction towards Roman, trying to shut out the sight of Bacall's lifeless body as he stepped over the growing pool of blood...

He blinked twice and was back in the bathroom. He touched his face, expecting his fingers to come away bloody. Instead, he found tears that turned into quiet, painful sobs, suppressing the sound with sternum-crushing force. The guilt swiftly stole his voice while the never-ending questions pounded against his brain, demanding answers. Why did he survive? Why didn't Bacall just shoot him? Why didn't he just do the other procedure? Why did he let the chief talk him into the risky surgery? Thirteen people would maybe still be alive if he had any sort of a spine and defended his plan. Thirteen people are dead because of him. He was responsible, he was guilty, guilty, guilty, guilty-

He couldn't take it anymore.

Frantically, Logan swung open the bottom cabinet and searched at the back of his cleaning supplies, finally producing a bottle of pills. He stared at the medicine for a indefinite amount of time, the inner debate growing inside his brain. Sacrificing years of sobriety for temporary relief from pain wasn't worth it. It wouldn't solve anything. He knew this all too well.

It didn't stop him from pouring three pills onto his hand and swallowing them whole.

[donutthief10]

sorry folks but this is a long one.

I feel like this may not be the most appropriate place to just blurt out feelings and stuff, especially something this personal, but i don’t want to discuss it with my counselor just yet because i’m still afraid about crying in front of her. And I just want someone to hear what I say, because stuffing it in is so exhausting. and talking about it out loud makes me super sad. And I’m def on my period right now so I can feel the extra emotions.

But today some of my girls asked about my ethnic background, and it was super difficult to explain it to them. Every group, I always explain that I’m adopted, because I either share pics of my family or discuss my family background, and I feel they get confused when they see me, an Asian girl, with white parents. I am very surprised that they don’t know what the word adoption is. I guess I just assume that everyone knows what that means. It’s difficult to explain to them and I realized they were having a really hard time understanding, even when they looked up a translated word in Japanese.

But as I grow up, I never thought I would be so aware about being adopted. I feel so odd and left out, at least in the area I’ve grown up in. I am always jealous of seeing families that all look similar, or hearing my friends be told “omg you look so much like your father/mother” or if I see my friend’s sibling, I can see special features that are on both. It makes me feel sad that I don’t know my birth parents, and I feel even more… lonely knowing nothing about why they just left me in front of the hospital, like what I’ve always been told growing up. And oh man, when I tell other people that, like classmates or new friends, they say, “oh, that’s really sad.” It just always hits me for a moment and I agree and go, “yeah, it is.” And it’s just such an awkward, short, quiet moment. It always hurts on the inside, but I try not to let it get to me. But it always comes around later, and I think about it. It hurts a lot. It makes me think, why? What was wrong with me? Was it the single child rule? Were they that poor during the time I was born that they just couldn’t take care of me? Was I a burden? Did they not want me? It gets me running around in circles in my head and then I just get mad that I don’t know. I remember growing up always asking about it, “was I really just DROPPED off in front of the hospital? You’re sure? They’re sure?”. Hoping I’d get a different answer. And as I got older I realized just how sad I got each time I got the same answer. It sits in my stomach more and I never got to express how I feel about it. Even all Asian families I get jealous of. Because I don’t have that. Even my old ra housemate, she is of mixed race, her mom is white and her dad is Asian, and I’m super jealous. I don’t have any Asian family. Not that I know of. WHAT IF THEY’RE ALL DEAD?! She even freaking made a weird fetish-like story about me and my adoption and it made me so uncomfortable. In THAT moment, it just made me feel WORSE about my adoption. Fresh off the boat, for example. I’ve always thought that show looks super funny and it’s nice seeing Asian actors on tv, but I get jealous because they are still a family of all Asians. Family reunions are weird because everyone around me is white, and I still feel out of place somehow. I stick out like a sore thumb in family photos. I get so paranoid when I go out to stores with my mom or my dad. What do strangers think of me? Do they feel bad for me? Like oh, her parents must not have loved her to just toss her out and dump her in front of a hospital.  I don’t know if I’m being psycho, but these are my true thoughts every single time I go out. What about friends? do they think I’m weird? Do my friend’s family think I’m weird? (super off topic but growing up I’ve always felt my friend’s grandma thought differently of me, because I’m Asian. She acted strange around me. I don’t know how I knew when I was little, but I could just feel it in my bones. I was always nervous around her, but granted it didn’t help that I was also jealous that my friend had a grandma in town that always doted on her and I didn’t have anyone like that. But back to the main focus…). Do people ACTUALLY think differently when they see a PoC with white parents? Or am I just overthinking? I also remember feeling super weird in elementary school because it was literally JUST me and a teacher that was Asian, and kids teased me about that. I felt insecure and embarrassed when mr. cong would make me be included in the Chinese New Year events the school held, going to class with a traditional Chinese dress made me embarrassed. I felt like kids were just staring at me and being judgmental. It breaks my heart to hear that I would tell my mom, “no more! I don’t want to do this Chinese stuff anymore!” because I feel it just shows how embarrassed I really am to stand out so much in a place where most of the people were white. It felt so uncomfortable and lonely.

So yeah, adoption has been super��� touchy as I’ve grown up and it makes me feel more insecure about it. I wish I wasn’t, but I am. And I don’t want to sound like a baby or stupid either, but I can’t tell if I’m allowed to feel this way or not. I used to play and go to special Chinese events with the other children that were in my adoption group, but everyone just lost connection and I have no clue what the other kids are doing. Last I saw any of them was when I was maybe a young elementary student.

ok well.. this is really all i have on my mind right now. i felt like i just needed to get this off my chest because when the girls were saying thank you and good night to me, i almost cried so :)

if anyone is out there that has... idk, wise words or wants to share their experience, go ahead. or idk, just tell me it’s ok to feel this way. or don’t, maybe this is all for nothing and i’m completely overreacting. whatevs! i’m done talking for now. i feel better, i need to take meds and go to sleep. but first math :(

[endowarrior877]

Endometriosis in the bowel.

Endometriosis can also be found in your bowel and bladder, although I'll be focusing more on the bowel since that's a big problem area for me. These types of endometriosis are the most commonly misdiagnosed. It's easy to see why as most of the symptoms are the same as many other bowel, bladder, gastric and reproductive conditions, so most people are diagnosed or considered to have these types of endo, after all other tests and treatments have came back negative. This more than likely will mean most woman will wait longer for a true diagnosis because they have to rule out various other things too.

Most woman will find that they will be diagnosed as having IBS or other bowel conditions and treated for that first. The difference between IBS and endometriosis in the bowel is that the symptoms can change as you go through your monthly menstrual cycle where as IBS usually stays the same all the time. IBS can also a symptom of endometriosis so it can be hard getting a proper diagnosis.

You may be prescribed laxatives and fiber supplements if your doctor thinks you have IBS. In some cases like mines, fiber gel and laxatives make my cramps a lot worse and the best way to help my bowels stay healthy and moving is by drinking loads of water and eating loads of fruit, vegetables and soluble fiber.

Typical symptoms of endometriosis in the bowel are:

* Constipation

* Diarrhea

* Pain when opening bowels

* Pain during sex

* Rectal pain

* Rectal bleeding

* Cramping in the abdomen

* Nausea and vomiting

* Difficulties in emptying the bowel or feeling like you are not completely empty

If endometriosis effects the small intestine or the ileum then pain might be felt on the right side and can sometimes be identical to acute appendicitis. Constipation is also common and something I struggle with. It doesn't matter what i do or what laxatives I take sometimes it can be days between each painful bowel movement. Some people won't have all the symptoms on the list and some will have all. I have experienced everything on the list and most of the symptoms are still on going to this day.

If you're concerned about any of these symptoms you should always speak to your doctor. To diagnose endometriosis in the bowel a laparoscopy and proctoscopy should be done. Tests may also be carried out to rule out bowel obstruction which I've had plenty of and they've always said I'm not impacted. To treat endometriosis in the bowels then it must be cut out from the root. If the endometriosis is deep infiltrating and has penetrated the bowel wall, in most cases a portion of the bowel will be removed.

So how does this effect me? I'm pretty sure my symptoms are due to having endometriosis in the bowel. Yesterday was a good day for me pain wise. It was grandpas last day with us and the plan was to go with him to the bus stop and see him off. I woke up and did my new, stay still for 15 mins until i felt the pain was okay and then I got up. I took some meds and got on with the rest of the morning. It was good, I didn't have to go through the usual morning brutality and it was looking like I would make it out after all. I wanted to see hubby's dad off. So I was in a pretty good mood. My bowels didn't open all day and I don't think they moved much to be honest but that was good because it meant less pain too! I'd deal with those consequences later.

I should have known that if I don't move my bowels the next day might be a bit iffy. I woke up, lay still and eventually got up and had some cramping so got a bath. I got out the bath and carried on with the day slowly hurting and then made me and teeny some lunch. I got the sharp shooting painful message telling me to go to the toilet so off I speed walked to the loo. The pains were creeping and intensifying and i sat down to do what I needed to do. The whole process of opening my bowels is just horrid and painful. Once the pain starts to come I know I need to quickly finish what I'm doing and go and lay on the bed, sofa or floor until it eases off, which is anyone guess as to when it will stop. I've been out shopping with the kids on a couple of occasions and this has happened and I've just had to lay on dirty disabled toilet floors clutching my tummy until the pain eases up enough to let us run to a taxi and get home to the bath. It's soul destroying when that happens. So I stay in doors where things like that can't and won't ever happen.

The one thing I want most is to be able to open my bowels without being in the worst imaginable pain. I wouldn't wish this pain on anyone, not even my worst enemy! I'm not so bad now but I went through a stage of being absolutely petrified with the thought of doing the toilet. Now I've accepted this is how it's going to be for the time being. I can't stop it so I've had to learn how to cope with it.

Today was no different and as I sat on the toilet, the sweat started dripping off my head and I was feeling like I was on fire, it feels like someone is twisting all of my insides into a tight knot and trying to focus on the task at hand is nearly impossible. All i want to do is stop the pain, anything to try and stop this god awful pain. I try to finish quickly and then I can go and get in the bath until the pain killers kick in again.

When I started to go to the GP about this I would always have my tummy examined and one thing that was always noted by a few different doctors, was that there were some protruding lumps on my left and right sides which they thought were always backed up stool. It was now suspected that I had a possible bowel obstruction and i was prescribed laxatives and stool softeners but even drinking 8 sachets a day didn't move the weird lumps. Even after my bowel prep for one of my colonoscopies I still had them, I never agreed that they were just backed up stool.

So currently I can only move my bowels when I get the sharp shooting pains and then I know it's go time. Gas doesn't just come out naturally anymore and i have to push that out which is sore and uncomfortable. Pretty much every time I move my bowels I have to take some form of pain killer and/or get a bath. If this happens when I'm out and about then I'm in a lot of trouble. No matter what I do with my diet it doesn't help. The only thing that does help is not going to the toilet and that isn't possible. This has effected my mental health so much because it is just sheer madness that anyone should have to suffer this much pain and discomfort when they trying to do something that is so natural to us all. One thing that is strange, is that during my period I have less pain when opening my bowels, and less mucus. I know that means something, I'm just not sure what.

This particular flare I'm having just now has lasted about 3 hours and was triggered when i opened my bowels. This will happen every time. I have an MRI scan next week and I can't speak to my specialist until the day after so all I can do is check in with the GP maybe, and wait until I can update the specialist. I was advised by my new GP to contact the specialist if my symptoms are persistent and very painful so tried to call the other day and I couldn't get a telephone/face to face appointment to my disappointment.

So now the flare has been tamed, I'll fix myself once again, take a deep breath and go wake teeny from her nap and give her a big cuddle. It's not too late so if we go to the shops shortly I can make something tasty for dinner. It's funny how you just dust yourself off and carry on with life as if nothing ever happened. It's horrible living in fear of my bowels and maybe one day I'll be able to go to the toilet like everyone else. Now that would be nice.

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