#migraines aren't my only problems

[another-sammelsurium]

I was seeing an orthopedist for acute joint pain. It was weird because i hadn't experienced this amount of general joint pain before, nevertheless to this extrem. I often have joint pain in specific joints (hip, wrist, ball of my foot,..) for a shortish amount of time due to overuse.

This had been going on for about two months, and it had gotten to the point i couldn't walk more than a few steps or stand without being in a ton of pain, and even while sitting/lying down i was on pain, so i was obviously concerned. I also have a family history of arthritis, rheumatism and gout, which i told the doctor about.

The docter suggested i change up my diet and exercice.

Excercice, when standing up was too much to handle, and i could barely walk.

Change up my diet without telling me what to change or even asking what my current diet is.

He send me home without pain medication or any other treatment plan. He didn't check for possible organic reasons either.

Now bare in mind that i am a 26 year old guy, i am not overweight and usually don't get comments like that about excercice and diet.

Now imagine being overweight. This will be the first thing doctors will blame your problems upon, regardless of the actual reason. (They often times don't even check for other reasons.)

This is ableism. This is medical neglect.

This happens every day.

ableism is being told "it's good to see you on your feet" by family members as you're forced to walk because your wheelchair didnt fit through the door

ableism is being scared about having a carer for the first time, but every internet search for what it's like are "what it's really like to be a carer" articles that paint disabled people as invalids without a say or entitled dickheads hurting nurses

ableism is being told "have you tried yoga?" "my friend said the alkaline diet cured her fibromyalgia" "of course you're in pain, you don't do any exercise"

ableism is that fucking marathon analogy. "if i want to run a marathon I have to train - at first one mile will hurt me, but eventually it'll be a breeze" grit your teeth through the pain, it'll get better.

what about when it hurts to type on your phonescreen? or it takes you 5 minutes to crawl to the bathroom? how long do I have to endure these things everyday before they get easy? it's been a year

ableism is telling your doctor over and over you can still move your legs, there is no nerve damage or loss of mobility, it just hurts so much you can't bear to move. and finding "possible nerve damage and loss of mobility" on every. single. file.

and this bullshit ignorance has come from not just family, but trained professionals - physiotherapists, occupational therapists, general practitioners, and neurologists

LISTEN TO ME, listen to us, please listen! stop talking, stop suggesting, just fucking listen

do this for your physically disabled friends because i promise you they aren't getting that from anyone else

as if the pain isn't exhausting enough, being constantly ignored, talked over, and misunderstood is torture

[genderkoolaid]

as someone with ARFID i really couldn't care less about the distinction between "picky eaters" and "genuine eating issues." if you are an asshole to someone you see as "just picky" i will never, ever trust you. i've lived through the trauma of being shamed and humiliated for my eating needs.

frankly i think a LOT of "picky eaters" have some kind of sensory problems– autistic or allistic– and shame is never useful. i don't fucking care how annoying you think we are. if you've never lived through the humiliation of being the only one not eating at a dinner table, or having to choke down something disgusting you already know you hate because other people insist you don't know your own body, or getting a hunger migraine in a house full of food because none of its edible to you? you don't understand how awful it is to have food issues.

whenever i see people draw this distinction between being "just a picky eater" and "having a real problem" all i think is, who does this serve? most people don't even know ARFID exists. there are so many undiagnosed autistics, or just people with a variety of issues that aren't officially diagnosed. why do we need a medical label in order to be treated with respect and compassion? why did i need to be diagnosed as autistic for my family to realize the abuse they put me through for years because of my eating habits?

it's such an easy habit for neglected groups to fall into– the idea that a medical diagnosis can save us. that by appealing to the medical/psychiatric industry, we can be protected from abuse and given basic respect and resources. but the truth is that it should never have come to this in the first place. dignity doesn't come from an abled doctor telling you that there's a medical reason for your symptoms. it comes from being a person. once you accept that you need a Good Reason to have your needs respected, you doom yourself to neglecting and abusing those who have your same struggles because they aren't lucky enough to access medical recognition.

tl;dr solidarity with all "picky eaters" stop guilting people for having varying food needs, if we make you irrationally angry that's YOUR problem not ours, and abolish "children's menus" & replace them with simple-food menus for people of all ages

[dawneternal]

now my head's splitting at the seams

✴︎ in the labyrinth of my pain, would you find me?

✴︎ Azriel x Valkyrie reader, platonic Cassian x reader

✴︎ Summary: you miss a few days of training, down with a bad migraine. It turns out Cassian has a few misconceptions about your condition and, possibly, about pain itself.

✴︎ Warnings: mentions of nausea and vomiting (no descriptions), pain, toxic positivity and ableism, internalized ableism, Cassian's a jerk in the first half. Also I'm so sorry for the tense changing back and forth 💀 I would definitely not call this one a masterpiece

✴︎ Word Count: 3.4k

AO3 Link / Writing Masterlist

✴︎ Notes: somehow writing out my feelings about having a migraine turned into something pretentious about pain and ableism. I think a lot about John Green's "pain is the opposite of language" and how much that's changed my perception of pain

Also listen I love Cassian and I have no problems with him but I had to pick someone to take my feelings out on I'm sorry 💛 also just want to acknowledge that everyone experiences migraines differently and it's not a topic I'm an expert on so I'm sorry if you don't feel well represented by this.

Tbh I could write several essays about the way pain and disability are handled in the acotar books but that's for another time.

Letting out a frustrated groan, you squeeze your eyes shut tighter and twist your knuckle into the pressure point at the base of your palm, chasing the momentary relief it'll give you from your nausea. It works for a minute, and you're considering making your way to the bathroom before another wave hits you when your bedroom door flies open.

"You're late," Cassian's voice bellows through the room and he doesn't see you wince. He strides into the room, footsteps booming across the floorboards, and he's left the door open behind him, letting a traitorous amount of light into your dark room. What good were black out curtains if your darkness was going to be invaded like this anyways?

"Oh my gods you've got to talk quieter," You curl tighter around yourself, head clutched in your hands.

"So you're hungover?" He stops near your bed, arms crossed as he towers over you.

"No, I have a migraine."

"Isn't that the same thing?"

You squint up at him, scowling, swallowing every bad word threatening to spill off your tongue. Though maybe he deserves it for coming into your room without asking.

"Please leave," You say quietly, all the venom you could usually imbue into your voice completely swallowed by your current condition.

"You've missed three days of training." He says by way of answering, definitely not following your request to lower his volume. "You can't coddle yourself like this."

His words punch the air from your lungs. Coddle? Something terrible is rising in your gut, along with the desperate thought that you can't deal with this right now.

"I'm not - this isn't - I don't think you understand how much it hurts." You scramble for words, cheeks heated from pain and anger.

"You've gotta push through it," He says, no hint of sympathy.

"Cassian please."

"I'm not leaving until you agree to come with me."

You don't have time to respond before you're running to the bathroom and throwing up whatever you'd managed to keep down last night, head throbbing with every movement.

Breathing hard, you lean back from the toilet and clutch your head in your hands. The silence rings in your ears and you aren't sure if Cassian is still there or if he finally took mercy on you and left, until his voice makes it's way to you, with just a hint of remorse in it -

"I'd better see you up there."

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

Cassian did not see you at training that morning, and you're assuming you've bruised his ego because the next day he doubles down.

The thing is, Rhysand knew of your condition. The other priestesses knew. It's only Cassian being out of the loop and if he understood what a migraine felt like, you're certain he wouldn't be dragging you up there. You were used to dealing with people who didn't understand, had worked hard to learn how to give yourself kindness no matter what other people said. But it's like he knew exactly what things to say, what buttons to press to undo all of that progress.

It was like he'd pulled off your armor, piece by piece, leaving you cold and exposed. Going back to that world where weakness was your given name and it hurt worse than stepping into the ring and fighting the pain. If you could prove him wrong, just make it through a couple of hours, you could return to your sanctuary of darkness. And at least then, you wouldn't hate yourself on top of everything else.

So you followed him up to the training ring, struggling to open your eyes all the way in the morning light, hunched over to make the pain down your shoulders and neck just a bit more bearable. You sway on your feet, but Cassian either doesn't notice or doesn't care.

When he moves aside, revealing your small, huddled frame trailing beside him, Gwyn gasps.

"Cassian!" She cries, her tone scathing, and the hint of smug triumph slips from his face. It disappears completely as Gwyn rushes to your side, folding you into her arms to block your eyes from the light. You groan into her shoulder and go limp in her arms, grateful for the support.

Azriel stands to the side, watching with narrowed eyes. His arms are crossed over his chest like Cassian's, but there is no determination or judgment in his posture or expression. There's angry, crackling flames as he watches the redheaded Valkyrie thread her fingers through your hair and murmur soft comfort.

"She missed training all this week," Cassian says, but he's not barking any more. He's feeling a little bit small underneath the glares that pin him where he stands.

"Yeah, we know," Gwyn says, and it's the closest she's gotten to snapping at him in the whole time they've known each other. She turns to you and her eyes soften. "Let's get you back to bed, love."

"No," You murmur, guilt and shame bringing your resolve to the surface once more. You gently push her away to stand on your own, raising your squinted eyes to meet Cassian's. "I can do it. I'll be fine."

She watches you take shaky steps to the nearest mat and begin stretching, body obviously stiff from a few days in bed. You're conscious of all the eyes on you, far too sympathetic for your liking. This is exactly what you hated.

"Are we starting or not?" You let out a stiff laugh, too aware that your words are lightly slurred. That is absolutely not helping the hangover accusations.

The other priestesses shuffle to get into place, bumping into each other as they move to find their positions. There was still a horrible silence, crackling with fierce anger, all rippling in Cassian's direction. He halfheartedly called a few orders, visibly uncomfortable with the energy in the ring.

And you tried. You tried hard. To move your body through the stretches like normal. But your muscles protested every move, threatening to lock back up, sending stabs of pain through your skull. It didn't take long for the nausea to take over, forcing you to the edge of the ring, doubled over and dry heaving.

"This is ridiculous," Gwyn scoffs before she's at your side again. "You're going to back to bed."

"I will not be weak," You growl at her, panting as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, "I am not lazy."

Gwyn's head snaps around to find Cassian, mouth dropped open in fury as she silently dares him to confirm that he may have suggested weakness to you.

"You're not and you know it," She says softly, hauling you up and leading you away from the training ring. “Don't do that to yourself.”

Cassian is feeling like he's surrounded by wolves, all the glares that are being sent his way. He understands by now that he's messed up, and in front of a group that may not be easily inclined to forgive him. He's sure every single one of them has experienced the disbelief that he foolishly shoved your way. For their pain, or for anything else.

He thought you would snap back to your normal self after a bit of warming up, shake off your symptoms with a bit of movement and sunshine. You were strong enough to, if you wanted to. He'd seen it before. He thought you just didn't want to.

A small, firm hand lands on his arm and he finds himself looking down at Nesta. There's sympathy in her expression, but her eyes twinkle with the threat of a nasty bite if he dares to say anything stupid.

"She gets them after particularly bad flashbacks," Nesta says, "Or sometimes they're just random. Madja says there's no fix for the pain but darkness and sleep."

Cassian's stomach twists so terribly he thinks he might puke, too. In the midst of attempting to instill resilience, he's understanding that he knows nothing of this kind of pain. This is something different, something that cannot be conquered in the same way as emotional pain, as every day aches and injuries. You are a soldier in a battle he has no strategy for.

He may understand the concept of emotional resilience, of getting back up and into the training ring when you don't want to. But this is different.

The final blow, the thing that makes him want to cower and hide, is meeting his brother's eyes. Seeing the fire there transports him back in time, sending flashes of a smaller Azriel pushing himself too hard, determined to show the world that he'd never be less because of the damage to his hands. Fighting against words far too similar to the ones his own brother had spouted to you this morning, desperate to become strong enough that no one would ever doubt his pain and live.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

It was not a surprise that Cassian found himself in Rhysand's office later, confessing how thoroughly he'd fucked up, desperate for a little direction in how to fix this mess.

"It has to be their choice," Rhysand is saying, eyes meeting Cassian's over his glass.

Cassian's mouth opens and closes as he tries to conjure a response. He knows that. Of course he knows that. But apparently, his brain had not wrapped around how far that concept might go.

Cassian let out a grunt as he sat back in his chair, arms crossed. Rhysand knew he didn't have to push any further, he recognized the conflict in his brother's eyes. So he sat with him, quiet, while he processed.

"Do you want to know what it feels like?" He broke the since after a while, as the idea came to him.

"What?" Cassian blinked, startled from his thoughts.

"A migraine," Rhys explained, "Do you want to know what it feels like?"

Cassian frowned, studying his brother's expression for anything resembling amusement, but there was none. So he nods.

Not even a full second later, his skull is attacked with throbbing pain, deep in the base of his neck. He hadn't even noticed the fae lights before, but now they overwhelm him, causing a dull pain to surface behind his eyes. Nausea curled up his throat, threatening ruthlessly.

"Oh gods," He leaned forward and clutched his head in his hands, finding that his limbs trembled under his own weight.

"Do you push yourself when you feel like this?" Rhysand asked softly, not taunting. Prompting.

"I don't really ever feel like this," Cassian grumbled out.

"Hm," Rhysand mused, his brows drawing together. He'd experienced episodes like these often, under the mountain. He knew that Azriel struggled with them through his teenage years, like his brain still struggled to process his senses outside of a dark cell.

Deep in thought, he only remembered to ease up on Cassian's mind when his brother whimpered.

"Some say pain cannot truly be described with language," Rhys says, gaze somewhere else as Cassian gulps down air. "And that your pain is one of the few things that is truly yours, that you can never share. Even if you manage to describe it, it will never be felt by anyone else."

"I thought she was just hungover," Cassian says, but he's not defending himself. Rhysand knows.

"What if she was, though?" He tilts his head to the side, watching his brother carefully.

And that is the thing that had begun to unfurl within Cassian as he stood surrounded by the priestesses he'd wronged. He understood that having true control of your body meant that dictating how pain is handled had to be yours, too. He understood that pushing someone to deal with pain in his own way was a violation in and of itself. He had stepped into the world that you had carefully balanced and re-built around your condition and dared to tell you that you may have done it wrong.

"Will she get better?" He asks, thinking of the agony he'd just experienced for a few short minutes. The same one that you'd been experiencing for three days, now.

"It's hard to say," Rhysand shrugs, "Madja says she will likely experience these off and on for the rest of her life, but she may have some periods of remission."

He tilts his head at his brother again, "You know that a majority of the priestesses have an invisible disability of similar kinds, right? They won't get better. They will be in pain every day until they die."

Rhysand sighs, thinking of the hundreds - possibly thousands - of tins of salve that Azriel has gone through, numbing the pain of his nerve damage. Trembling hands hidden in black gloves, tucked into his body and away from the world. And that is the reason he's bothering telling Cassian of any of this. Otherwise, he might let him figure it out on his own.

"But the healers-" Cassian begins.

"Are there to help them cope with their emotional pain and trauma," Rhysand nods, "But some of them, a lot of them, were disabled as a result of what they went through and will never get better. Like Clotho.”

Oh.

It clicks in Cassian's mind, then. Who else Rhys meant. Who else Cassian had insulted. He had never barged into Azriel's room, insisting that he still train even when he could not flex his fingers without wincing, without trembling too hard to hold a glass of water. But he'd done it to you, in front of him. And that pinned his disbelief on Azriel all the same.

Azriel's pain, your pain, were enemies that neither of you could defeat. And here he was, shoving a sword into your hands, and insisting that you try.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

A soft knock sounds against your door, so quiet you almost don't hear it. You stare at it, wondering if you should pretend that you didn't. But then the knob turns slowly and it opens just a crack, and a soft voice is saying into the darkness,

"Hey, it's Azriel. Can I come in?"

Your breath catches in your throat, and you watch his shadows dancing back and forth through the thin wedge of light he's letting in.

"Sure," You say, moving quickly to smooth your rumpled clothes and tangled hair before he steps in. You're not exactly sure what he thinks of you after this morning.

He steps inside and closes the door behind him. His eyes seem to glow in the darkness, an amber-honey color, and somehow you can still see his shadows, like they're even darker than your room with no light.

"I just wanted to check on you," He says, crouching down beside your bed so you don't have to sit up.

"I'm okay," You say, still getting over the surprise of the Shadowsinger in your space. It's true, though, you suppose. You're used to all of your other symptoms by now, and your heart hurts worse than your head.

"He's an idiot sometimes," Azriel says, basically spits. A smile begins to spread on your face so he continues, “Like, sometimes he's just an asshole, straight up. But this time, believe it or not, I think he actually meant well and was just an idiot.”

“I know,” You give him a sad smile and all of the anger melts from his face.

“I think he went to buy flowers if that makes you feel any better,” He sighs. You know he's just as mad at Cassian as you are, maybe even more mad. But he still can't help vouching for him. It's definitely going to take more than flowers to forgive him, but it's a good start. You also appreciate that Azriel has bothered to warn you ahead of time, in case you wanted to avoid Cassian's apology.

“How are you feeling?” He asks, so quietly. And you wonder who else has earned this tenderness from him.

“It's not too bad right now,” you say truthfully, though you know that sitting up or going outside might be pushing your luck.

“Still hurts?”

“Yeah. Still hurts.”

He nods. “I can try something that helps me, sometimes.”

You search his eyes for a moment, then nod.

“Can I touch your face?” He asks, almost a whisper.

Your heart leaps into your throat and you fight to keep your face neutral as you nod again, no idea what he's planning to do with you.

Slowly, leaving enough time for you to stop him, he reaches out. He's not wearing gloves, like usual, and in the dark you can just barely make out the uneven silhouette of his dimpled, scarred hands.

His fingers land gently on your forehead, and he presses his thumb between your brows. Gently at first, and then harder, circling a tender point under your skin. It makes the pain in your head sharper, and you let out a hiss.

“I know,” He says, “Bear with me a minute.”

You close your eyes, biting back a whimper, but after a moment the pain begins to ease. He keeps going for a few minutes and you feel your whole body relax, pain free for the first time in days.

You don't realize how much you've leaned into his touch until he gently pulls away and you find your head falling forward with him.

“What is that?” You open your eyes and blink at him.

“A pressure point,” He grins, and it almost looks like he's blushing.

“That's magical,” you say. You hesitate for a moment, and then, “you can sit on the bed if you want.”

Azriel smiles and straightens, and you move your pillow to the side to make space for him. He slides off his boots and sits on the bed next to you, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. You place your pillow next to his lap and settle back into it.

“Thank you,” You say, your body feeling lighter than it has in days.

“Of course,” he says.

A silence settles, but it's not uncomfortable. There's something in it that you understand. He's just keeping you company. Here to sit with you in your pain.

It's easy to relax in his presence, between his calm aura and the pain relief he's offered you. And you find yourself spilling the question that's been circling though your mind since this morning.

“What if I can't fight, someday? What if I can't be a Valkyrie anymore?”

Azriel stills beside you. It's a long moment before he says anything. You're tense beside him, and it makes you flinch when he brings his hand so gently to rest on your head. Not moving, just resting.

“First,” He says, in the same soft voice, “You'll always be a Valkyrie. Because you cut the ribbon. Because you sisters will never let you go. And because I know for a fact that the Valkyries did not strip their warriors of their title if they became disabled by an illness or an injury.”

“Really?” You breathe.

“Mhm,” He hums in affirmation. You forget sometimes that he knows the Valkyries from more than history books.

“And second,” His voice drops lower, like he's sharing a secret with you. His hand moves, fingers slipping gingerly through your hair. And it makes you realize that he came here with his hands uncovered as an offer of solidarity. Combing his scarred fingers through your hair, he is offering you vulnerability, like recompense for what you bared this morning. A trade. A truce.

“If you cannot fight,” He continues, “Then you will show the world that a formidable woman can be made from more than fighting skills. You will still be - will always be - something incredible.”

Tears prickle at your eyes, form a lump in your throat. You reach up to grasp his hand, the only thank you that you can manage in the moment, and he lets you.

There's another silence, as he holds your hand in the dark.

“Who helps you?” You ask, turning to look up at him. He watches your eyebrows knit together, so serious, and he swallows a smile.

“What do you mean?” He says.

You bring one finger up to tap the space between his own eyebrows.

“With your pain? Who helps you like you helped me?”

“Um,” He shrugs, “Sometimes Rhys if he has time. Otherwise, no one.”

That's what you thought, but it still makes your heart twist in your chest. It takes a deep breath before you have the courage to say the next words out loud.

“You should tell me next time you're in pain. And I'll help.”

Azriel stares back at you, something bewildered in his eyes. Because he sees your suggestion for what it is. The same thing he offered you. A trade. A truce.

A beginning.

“Yes,” He whispers into the dark, and his hand closes around yours. “I will.”

[ohbo-ohno]

I REALLY wanna see Johnny get mad! Like white hot angry at reader. Don’t know what/how it happened but Johnny’s gonna make all of reader’s poor holes suffer🥺

Maybe Simon gets surprised and turned on by his pup’s newfound aggressiveness

3.6k pwp soap drabble 4 u (cw for referenced burning building, angry sex, some light mutual degradation/objectification, and voyeurism since ghost watches)

You fume silently, face hot with rage while you and Soap walk side by side behind Ghost down the base hallways. There's a tension at the base of your neck that you just know is going to become a migraine if you don't get some medicine soon, and your bones ache from going too long without sleep.

Soap's somehow even stiffer beside you, the distance between you two small but intentional. Usually he's impossible to pry off of you, always brushing against you and looking for more physical contact, but since you landed he's kept at least half a foot between you two at all times.

Fine by you. You don't want him touching you right now anyway.

The silence is thick as Ghost leads you two to his room, his shoulders loose and relaxed.

He's got no reason to be tense, you suppose. He's not the one who had a massive disagreement on the field, who had to drag his squadmate back from a blazing fire and deal with his bitching instead of his thanks.

Just the memory of it makes you scowl.

Ghost leads the two of you into his room in rare silence, though it's only rare because usually you and Johnny would already be teasing or flirting at this point. But you don't bother now, not with your anger so fresh in your mind.

Ghost is the only one to get settled once Johnny closes the door behind you. You two stand on opposite sides of the doorframe, both too tense to do much but stew in your own righteous anger, and Ghost starts to get dressed down into something more comfortable.

He lets the two of you stay quiet until he's fully changed into a tank top and sweats, no boxers then sits on the bed with an overly loud sigh.

"You two even gonna look at each other?"

Your lip curls as you glance at Johnny from the corner of your eyes. "I have nothing to say to him."

"'S not what I asked."

Your cheek twitches and you bite your tongue, rolling a sharp canine over it. "Honestly, Simon, I don't even want to see him right now."

Johnny scoffs, loud in the otherwise quiet room, and nearly stomps to your side, leaning in front of you to try and force eye contact. "Oh, really? Ye can't even look at me, huh? Had no problem lookin' earlier, when you were draggin' me away from my goddamn mission."

You want to growl, you want to rake your nails down his face and scream about what a fool he is, what a jackass, and you want to make him remember.

Some of your ire must shine through in your expression, and Johnny mirrors it, eyes sparking as he straightens and stands diagonally from you, chest nearly brushing your shoulder.

"Dragging you away from your death, more like," you sneer.

"Wasn't your place," he bites back, moving forward enough that you can feel the heat of him even through all your layers. "You aren't my fuckin' CO and I'm not yours - wasn't any of your business how I chose to execute my orders."

"It is when you chose to do it in the most lethal way possible! Fuck, MacTavish, had you taken half a second and listened to me-"

"Oh, that's all it woulda taken? Just had to shut my pretty lips and listen to you, jump before you even say how high? Newsflash, lass, you don't get to make those decisions."

"And you do?"

"In this case? Yeah, you're fuckin' right I do. Price said drag the man out, alive, and that's what I was doing."

"You ran into a burning building!"

"Under orders from our CO!"

"You know damn well that's not what he meant, Sergeant, cut the shit. The orders were to bring him back alive, not kill yourself in the process!"

"That's the job, Sergeant. You do whatever it takes to fulfill your orders."

You're both panting as he snarls the words, nose to nose and eye to eye, teeth bared in rage that feels almost primal. His close brush with death, the way you'd had to tackle him to keep him from running after the damn target, leaves you raw and unsteady. Had you been any weaker, any less filled by adrenaline and panic and something deeply possessive, you know Soap would've thrown you off and gotten himself killed. You were hardly able to hold him down until the screaming stopped as it was.

You take as deep a breath as you can with your heart racing, and reach up to wrap the collar of Johnny's shirt tight in your fist, dragging him so close that your noses brush, hot breaths shared.

"You don't get to fucking leave me." You shoot a glance over Johnny's shoulder, to where Ghost sits comfortably against the headboard of your shared bed. "Leave us. I won't let you."

It's the last sentence that has him bristling, that ruins your chance of a settled argument.

The only person who lets Soap do anything is Ghost. The two of you listen to your Lieutenant with no questions, no doubt, no hesitations, but the same doesn't go for your fellow Sergeant. Since the 141 had formed, you and Soap have been fighting for dominance over one another, both of you determined to establish your control of the other like Ghost has for both of you.

The insinuation that you would let Soap do anything isn't something he'll let slide.

Hours later, fucked raw and sated, you can admit to yourself that the wording was slightly intentional. But now, with the fresh wound of Soap's close call with death still stinging in your subconscious, you only mean it as a way to push his anger to the level yours has been at for hours now.

"Let me?" He rumbles, muscles relaxing as he steps forward enough to press his chest to yours, head ducked low so all you can see is Johnny. "You don't let me do shit, lass. Couldn't stop me if you tried."

You can't help the way your lips quirk up into a humorless smile, your fist tightening in the fabric of his shirt. "Had a pretty easy time of it earlier, MacTavish. Had you pinned and writhing under me, like a bitch-"

Before you can finish your taunt, you find yourself pinned to the door, a mouth covering yours.

Johnny's teeth are sharp against your lips as he nips at you, leaving behind a sting and a throb. You dig your nails into his shoulders, raking them down his arms and rumbling in dissatisfaction when his clothes keep him from feeling anything.

You bite back as you push at the hem of his shirt, desperate to get your hands on him and make him hurt. You trace your fingers over his abs as you get his bottom lip between your teeth, pulling him down to your height and smirking at his glare.

You don't kiss so much as fight with lips instead of fists, there's no affection or softness between the two of you right now. You're nothing but your anger, but your desperation, and deep down your fear. You cling to Johnny with something verging on desperation, bite and scratch to make him feel even a bit of the pain you had at such a close call with death.

He leans almost his entire weight into yours to keep you pinned against the door, but you only have to shove at his shoulders a few times for him to get the hint and move backwards.

His lips never leave yours as you walk him back to the bed, his hands coming up to grip your thighs as he falls back and keeps you on top of him. You taste the slightest tang of iron as you shift your knees up next to his hips, squeezing his sides between your thighs and his tongue between your teeth.

"You gonna ride me?" He pants when you pull away for a breath of air, your hips working over the tent in his pants. "Think you're in charge, bonnie?"

You bare your teeth at him, grinding your core against the tent in his pants. “I’m not the one on my back, MacTavish.”

His smile is all teeth as he bucks his hips into yours, knocking you off balance so you’re forced to brace your hands on either side of his head. “I don’t need to be on top to keep you on a leash.”

It’s all too easy to hook your fingers in his throat mic - his collar. His pupils blow wide when you tug harshly enough to pull his head off the mattress, his hips following as he moans and grinds you down onto him with a bruising grip on your thighs.

“Down,” you smirk, leaning your weight back and forcing his hips to the bed, grinding your hips. “‘S my turn, Johnny. Gonna use you ‘til you’re wrung dry.”

His tongue darts out to wet his lips, then rests on his bottom lip instead of settling behind his teeth. You can’t resist the urge to lean down and lick over his lips, covering them in your own spit and groaning when he pulls you back into a proper kiss.

Despite your hand around his throat and your weight on top of his, you’re both equally in control as you strip the other. You can’t be bothered to wrestle his wrists to the bed, far preferring to let him paw your shirt and pants off while you tear the seams in his indecently tight shirt.

You only have the patience to get his pants to his knees, unwilling to help him kick them off for full mobility. Instead you grind yourself against his hard length, the soaked gusset of your underwear dragging wonderfully over both his cock and your clit.

You shift your hand on his neck so your palm is resting on his Adam’s apple, giving him just enough pressure to stay flattened to the bed.

He nearly growls when you push, the head of his cock getting caught in your panties and brushing the crease of your thigh. “Fuck, bonnie, get it on with.”

You blink down at him, cocking an unimpressed brow and shifting your hips so he slips between your folds, tucking your underwear to the side with your free hand. “You’re not in charge right now, MacTavish. I’m on top.”

“Only cause I’m lettin’ ya,” he pants, hips twitching as he tries to find your hole, tries to find a hole to sink into.

You lean down just far enough to bite the air in front of his nose, all feral rage and sexual frustration as you let yourself sit on his cock, holding him still beneath you. “You don’t let me do shit, I do whatever the fuck I want to. And right now, I want to ride you ‘til you stop fucking talking.”

You press your lips to his before he can bite back the response you see waiting on his tongue, letting your hips move in the way that feels best for you as you lick over his teeth.

Johnny’s always loved making out. When Ghost keeps him locked up, or he’s just not allowed to fuck you, he’ll happily spend hours with your lips glued together, dry humping each other and swapping spit. You can’t even count the number of times he’s come in his pants while thrusting against your hip or your side, driven over the edge by just a kiss.

You take advantage of that now, keeping one hand on his throat and the other circling the base of his throbbing cock so you can line yourself up above him. He’s far too distracted with your lips and tongue to remember he could tug you down on him at any moment, could flip the two of you with hardly any effort at all.

Despite the complete lack of prep, your body takes Johnny easily, the familiar stretch making you moan as you sink down onto him with one smooth movement. You blink open wet eyes just in time to see Johnny’s eyes nearly roll to the back of his head when your ass rests against him, his cock buried inside of you.

You don’t let yourself rest for long, though most days you love to just feel the weight of either of your boys inside of you. But that current of anger is still pulsing beneath your skin, and all the hot, sweat slick contact between you and Johnny only makes you feel more desperate.

Your pace is merciless, for both him and yourself. Your knees and thighs scream as you slam yourself to the base of Johnny’s cock, making sure you pull off nearly to the tip on every thrust. Without a hand around his throat, you’d have lost your balance on the first thrust.

Johnny’s pulse thunders against your fingers, so fast and so harsh that you swear you can ever see your fingertips twitching against his throat. His breaths are quick and erratic, and you can’t help but subconsciously match his breathing with your faces as close together as they are.

“So fucking good,” you moan, rolling your hips as you lift yourself off of him, dragging the head of his cock along your walls. Your voice cracks when he bucks his hips up, and you’re relieved that he’s already too blissed out to notice, lost in the tight vice of your cunt. 

“Yeah?” Johnny pants, tongue nearly lolling out of his mouth when you pull away fully. “Stuff you just right, yeah, lass?”

You bite your tongue against an agreement, some deep part of you that’s not quite drunk on pleasure yet unwilling to give Johnny that kindness. Instead you shift your weight, so that your hand is more cupping Johnny’s jaw and putting pressure on his head instead of his neck, letting you really push him down and get the proper leverage to fuck yourself on his cock. 

“Perfect fucking-” you shudder against the words, moan when he rubs just over your g-spot and repeating the same motion with your hips again and again. “Perfect fucking toy, so nice to ride.”

The sound Johnny makes is purely animalistic, torn between anger and desperation, something rough and low in his throat. You can feel the rumble of it through your hand and can’t help but moan in return, finally nearing your peak even as your legs continue to burn.

Neither of you speaks as you ride him, your head hanging low so you’re eye-level with his nipples and focused entirely on your own pleasure. The way your muscles scream at you only fills you with more need, more desperation, and the pain pushes you closer and closer to the edge. Your clit grinds just right over the rough patch of Soap’s pubic hair, soaking it in your juices and covering him in slick.

You reach your peak with gasping breaths, nearly going cross-eyed as you use Johnny entirely for your own pleasure, using him as nothing more than something to hold yourself up on and a toy to ride. Your muscles go completely lax as your pleasure overwhelms you, leaving you slumped against his muscular chest as you ride out the orgasm with small rolls of your hips.

Johnny’s still rock hard inside of you as you come down, his grip on your thighs tight enough to bruise. Your hand has slipped from underneath his collar to the mattress next to his face, and you don’t have the energy to push yourself up and away, to deny him like you’d intended.

Your lungs feel too small as you try to take deep gasping breaths, only managing a few before your lungs start hitching. Johnny’s chest rises and falls quickly beneath your head, his heart pounding beneath your ear.

You don’t have time to brace yourself before you’re flipped onto your stomach, face down on the mattress.

One moment you’re floating in post-orgasmic bliss, letting your body clench down on Johnny and milk him, the next moment you’re on your knees with your back forced into a deep arch, that same cock pounding into you like a machine.

Your groan is bone deep when you finally lift your head enough to breathe, eyes rolled heavenward as your body tries its best to adjust to the harsh treatment.

“Show you a fucking toy,” Johnny snarls from over your shoulder, his voice sounding distant beneath the blood rushing through your ears. “Think ye can just treat me like fucking nothing, get yerself off then take a fucking nap? Nah, yer gonna take what ye fucking deserve.”

The thickening of Johnny’s accent has you gushing around him, your sensitive channel clenching down so hard that you’re surprised he can pull out at all. 

Johnny’s hand wraps in your hair when you try to let your head fall forward again, yanking you back with enough strength to leave you yowling at the strain on your neck.

“Don’t fucking hide,” he hisses, landing a sharp slap on the meat of your ass. “Think ye can just shove yer head in the sand? Let me fuckin’ hear you, lass, sing f’r me.”

“Fu-uck you,” you manage to groan, syllables interrupted on every thrust, your voice cracking. “You’re not- fuck, Johnny, don’t have to listen to you.”

You can practically hear the way he gnashes his teeth over your shoulder, can perfectly envision the angry snarl on his face at your lack of submission.

“Ye will. Gonna teach ye a fuckin’ lesson about yer place.”

You try your best to rear up, whipping your head over your shoulder to glare as best you can despite the grip on your hair. “My place? Who the hell  do you think- oh fuck, fuck, Johnny, you can’t- goddamnit-”

“Can’t even get a goddamn word out.” Even from your terrible angle you can see that his smile is mean. “Think ye can be in charge when ye can’t even finish a sentence? Fuckin’ fool.”

You nearly shriek when he shoves your head down to the mattress, clawing fruitlessly at anything in front of you. You only freeze when you feel flesh give way underneath your nails, the hard muscles of a thick thigh under your palm.

You can just barely angle your head enough to glance up and see Simon looking down at you, but you can’t manage to see anything past his general shape with the way Soap is trying to shove you inside the mattress.

Ghost’s hand comes to rest on your head, and when you lean into him he pushes Johnny’s fingers off.

“Watch it, pup,” he rumbles, and Johnny’s hips stutter behind you. “You’re already in trouble. Do you really wanna make it worse?”

Your self-righteous smirk is hidden in the sheets, but you can’t fully muffle your laugh when Johnny’s whines over your shoulder. The sound quickly morphs into a snarl, and he buries his teeth into your shoulder as his hips start to work again, the sound of his balls slapping against your soaked cunt obscene.

Johnny wraps his arms beneath your torso, hooking his hands on your shoulders so he can tug you into every thrust, moving his face up to nose at your throat. You feel covered by him, consumed by him, as he chases his own pleasure.

You don’t quite manage to get off before he empties himself inside you, but there’s a deep satisfaction in your bones that still lets you melt into him.

Johnny’s all heat and power at your back as he goes weak against you, and a small shove to his shoulder from Ghost has both of you resting on your sides, spooning with his cock still buried inside of you.

Your breaths sync with his quickly, matching the inhales and exhales you can feel against your neck and the rise and fall of his chest against your back.

Your eyes flutter shut, relaxing into the bed and Johnny’s arms. You know that you’ll have to Talk later, about what he’d done and how you’d responded. But you know it’ll be an easier conversation after Ghost’s punishment, when all of your consciousness has eased a bit.

“There ya go,” you hear Ghost say, followed by a soft stroke over your head. “Exhausted yourselves, huh? Silly pups.”

You hum and Johnny rumbles behind you, burying his face more fully in your throat. You feel Ghost’s other hand pet over his mohawk, his thumb brushing your cheekbone.

“I guess you can nap.” Ghost sighs, like he’s doing you both a great favor. “You’ll both need all your energy for your punishment, anyway. Breakin’ damn near every rule in the book just cause you got a little worked up. What am I gonna do with the two of you?”

You don’t have the energy to respond, and the best Johnny manages is a small and plaintive whine. Ghost chuckles from above you, and you feel him lay in front of you, his arms wrapping around Johnny’s back and tugging you both to him.

“Yeah, yeah,  I know. Just relax now, you’re alright.”

It’s easy to drift off, even if the heat is near suffocating and the stretch of Johnny’s cock verges on the edge of too much. You’re loose-limbed and sated, and Johnny’s safe beside you. There’s little else you could ever want, ever need, and you can’t be much more than grateful as you fall asleep between your men.

[anyaeras]

Extra Help || N.Romanoff

Paring || Profesor natasha x reader

Summary || The student and profesor have some unprofessional relationships. They both tend to enjoy the company of each other

Warnings || smut ,, top!Natasha ,, bottom!reader ,, AFAB!Reader ,, They/Them pronouns ,, Legal age gap ,, mention!wandnat ,, semi!public!sex ,, cunnalingus ,, strap!on ,, pet!names ,, praising ,, hair pulling if you squint.

A/N || I used a lot of Russian in this, I am a Russian speaker so work with me please.

Master list

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Up and at it, it's 11:30am which you would think would be a nice time to get up at, but not for the college student who just so happened to not get home till around 4am the "night" prior, y/n wasn't a party person, but they were a let's hang out with friends and forget about all the problems in the world kind of person which just leads them into parties.

Now very hungover, a little hungry and in a rush y/n was throwing on a quick fit, that was comfortable yet still appropriate for a college lecture, cleaning themself up, brushing through their hair, and throwing on a little bit of make up before grabbing there bag being out the dorm door by 11:50 to make it to their 12 o'clock Russian lecture.

Stumbling into the classroom a moment before the lecture would begin making direct eye contact with the Russian redhead who ran the class, now this wasn't the first time, Miss Romanoff and you had a special bond you could say, she was definitely a mentor...well and more.

Sitting in the same spot you have the whole semester. It was on the right side of the classroom nearing the front row relatively close to Romanoffs desk, you made quick eye contact, but the blaring migraine wasn't helping y/n learn anything they got to the point where they prompted to just put their head down and listen, they were pretty sure this wouldn't go over well with the older Russian, yet y/n got away with it for a hot second before feeling a tap on the shoulder, pulling them back to reality, causing them to look up seeing a taller women looking down at them with sharp green eyes, and the look alone was enough for y/n to sit up correctly in the seat.

«Stay after class милый» (sweetie) Natasha bent down to say that to you softly, already having given out the assignment, the class was distracted by the devices going through the digital worksheets, quickly picking up on this you nodded to what Natasha had said but quickly got it work so you didn't look out of place.

The lecture went on about verb conjugations for another hour, the Russian lecture would only meet two times a week, yet you seemed to be meeting with Natasha Romanoff, to which the class called миссис Романов (miss Romanov) to keep It more professional, yet the Russian professor had explained multiple times, she didn't enjoy being called miss as it was seen as calling her old in Russia, but it was hard to break the American school system habits these young adults had formed over many years of schooling.

The class went on, yet y/n was far distracted, more worried about being asked to stay after class rather then learning more Russian, she was sure Natasha maybe even her wife would be willing to tutor the younger learner.

Slowly students begin packing up their electronics and putting their notes back into their bags before heading out, yet y/n didn't move for at least 2 minutes, then even slower they managed to pack up their items into their bag, they aren't scared of Natasha they just enjoy playing games, if you know what I mean? Finally sitting up and making their way towards the front of the room where Natasha stood waiting, yet they didn't stay there long.

"I have some work to get done, I'd like to move to my office" the Russian stated before leading the younger one to her office, which was only a few doors away from the lecture hall, yet every step the professors heels clicked on the floor echoing through the clean university hallways.

Unlocking the door with the keycard which is usually sat around the Russians neck digitally unlocking the door before shutting the door behind the two of them and locking it with a click.

«Late night детка?» Natasha asked softly yet with strong demands behind her voice pressing for an answer.

"I just went out nothing much" y/n responded nonchalantly to the older women, knowing damn well you were getting over a hangover still, and really weren't feeling one of the lectures coming your way, knowing it would get back to Wanda making you have two upset hot women on your plate.

"Y/n I'm sure you didn't let anyone touch what's ours" Natasha asked, she trusted you, so did her wife, yet y/n is a college kid so it's always imported to check.

"Of course not! I would never disrespect you guys like that!" Y/n snapped back being shut off with a kiss from Natasha.

«so good for us Моя дорогой » (my dear) Natasha praised continuing to kiss the younger ones lips before moving down to their semi-exposed chest and neck leaving small love bites along the way.

"Now I need to get some work done, while I do that do you think you could be good for me милый?" It was more of an order as it came from the red heads mouth, soft yet stern, she reached for your wrist guiding you to her desk before pushing you under it, there was plenty of room for you, plus you were hidden, as the older professor sat down in her chair, moving closer you could now see directly up her skirt, where she had no panties, giving you easy access to her core.

Y/n knew what she wanted from them without the Russian even needing to be explicated about it, as the red head started to grade papers it was almost to much as she felt y/n's mouth get to work, eating her out with skill, and what can the older women say, she's who taught y/n how so she was aware of how well y/n was with their mouth.

Muffled moans came from Natasha who was trying to not be to loud, as the sounds of sex filled the room.

«Just like that детка» Natasha prompted as she wrapped her fingers into the younger ones hair, pulling y/n into her closer then they thought was even possible, as she reached her climax practically grinding on y/n's face, Natasha raised her hand to her mouth to muffle her scream as she finally let go onto y/n

Natasha moved back from her seat at her desk after a moment, pulling herself together, before helping y/n off their knees, and into her lap, quickly pulling y/n in for a deep kiss, which didn't brake until they both were desperate for air.

"So good for me I think you deserve a reward hmm?" Natasha stated with her smirk plastered on her face

The Russian stood up picking up y/n along the way moving them onto the desk they clean off prior, setting y/n down leaving them with a sloppy kiss before parting ways. Without a word Natasha stepped back walking over towards a file cabinet, which held more then files that was for sure, pulling on a specific handle, a box, which looked nothing out of the ordinary sat inside the cabinet. Both people in the room knew the truth about that box, as Natasha reached inside pulling out a faux cock and a harness, sliding it up getting the harness situated onto her hips.

The older women made her way back to the college kid sitting on her desk, swaying her hips along the way, eventually stopping between y/n's legs. Natasha tapped on y/n's pants as a way of asking for consent to remove their clothing getting eager nods from y/n, as they even helped Natasha strip them of their clothes before sitting back on top of her russian teachers desk.

«Hmm let's see, maybe you learned something in my class, tell my what you want На русском?» (In Russian) Natasha was playing with fire, now messing with y/n, she knew y/n tried in her class, she's known that ever since y/n started coming to Her wife, and herself for extra Russian help, which may have lead to more than 'russian help' yet, you could say their doing just fine in the class. Y/n had to think about it for a moment, their Russian wasn't fluent at all, so they knew this would be a struggle by they did know how to curse and how to say ''me'

«Черт возьми меня» (fuck me) slipped past y/n's lips as they hoped that would be enough to get Natasha just to fucking ruin her.

"Ahh so good for me, it seems you picked up some words I haven't gone over yet" the professor joked before lining up, she slipped the faux dick threw y/n's folds getting it slick before lining up, slowly sliding in, whispering sweet nothing while doing so, allowing y/n a moment to adjust to the size.

"Y-you can move" y/n managed to stutter out, it's not like y/n was a virgin it's just Natasha was rather large.

With y/n's okay, Natasha started to pull out before trusting back in, she moved slowly yet trusted back in hard causing y/n to Yelp with the first trust, a low groan came from y/n's mouth. Natasha started to pick up speed, groaning as she listened to y/n's moans fill her ears, she eventually started to rut into y/n's forcing y/n to use Natasha to stabilize themself enough while balancing on the office desk.

"Fuck nat!" Y/n yelled out as Natasha was quick to move one of her hands to cover y/n's mouth, in hopes to muffle the yell as they were both still in a place of profession. Natasha was well aware y/n was coming close to her climax, to which the Russian started to use her hand which you removed from y/n's mouth to stimulate their clit, which was enough to push y/n over the edge causing them to let out loud moan holding onto Natasha tightly as they let go, evidently collapsing on top of their professor after.

Natasha held y/n close for a moment helping her come down from her high, helping the younger one relax before pulling out and starting to clean up.

After Natasha had cleaned up her office, she went back to y/n giving them a soft kiss on their lips before helping them get re-dressed after she dressed herself of course.

Looking over at her phone Natasha saw a missed text from her wife, which read.

«Bring them home for dinner, you can share Моя любовь»

The message brought a smirk to Natasha's face, packing up her items before turning to y/n.

"Come on sweetie, the misses is waiting" was all Natasha said, and that was enough for y/n to gain her composure and follow behind the red head right out the door.

[lastoneout]

I don't really know exactly why I'm posting this, I guess I just want to share my joy, but y'all...the nerve block worked. My migraine went down a little over the night so I was only at like a 1.5-2 but I swear to god the second they were done EVERY SINGLE PART of my head stopped hurting. The only pain I'm feeling rn is at the injection site and a smidge in my jaw, but that's not a huge deal bcs I know the steroids take a long time to do their thing and I usually have pain around the injection site when they do this in my back, plus I did already suspect something like 10% of my migraines aren't entirely due to my neck, but like...it worked. It fucking worked.

I've been living with chronic migraines my entire life, and in the last five years, they've gotten so bad that I can't work and have to cancel streams and hangouts with friends all the time. I have migraines more days than I don't and I've never been able to find out what my trigger is aside from not sleeping well and eating lays potato chips(rip I miss them so much) or gluten or being on my period?? and on some days I'm in so much pain I can't even feed myself or shower. 8-10 is the norm, they don't go lower on their own, they NEVER go away on their own, no matter how much time I spend lying in bed in the dark with icepacks on my face. My migraine rescue meds don't always work, or they work for a day and then it comes back, and I seem to be fucking Immune(tm) to Excedrin and ibuprofen. All that together has legit been ruining my entire life.

And I am not even a little ashamed to admit that once they were done and asked how I felt I broke down sobbing in the exam room because it WORKED. Instantly. Years of pain and agony and no help from my doctors, of blaming a medical condition that treatment hasn't fixed, telling me to limit screen time and lose weight, forcing me to try 50 different medications none of which help, of spending long nights in the ER hoping they can fix me even though it's typically a 50/50 chance....and now it's over. I don't have to do that anymore. They fixed it. They fixed it.

I'm crying right now as I write this. I never thought this was possible. Like I believed that it was my neck and my doctors agreed, but I was so worried that this would all be for nothing, I didn't think it would work, I know most disabled people dream of finding the One Thing that's causing all their problems even though most of us never do, but I guess luck decided to smile on me this day, this is what's causing my problems and it's treatable. It's over. I found the path out of this hell and it was the right one. I don't even know what to do, what to say. I'm so happy I can't even be happy, all I can do is cry because the hardest part is over.

There's still work to be done, but the path is clear. And honestly @ any gods that are listening, please grant this to my fellow disabled people. They deserve to feel this, we all do.

[toniyx]

More Vox headcanons, because I'm absolutely suffering.

Vox x Reader Migraines Headcanons (Fluff)

So, I'm pretty sure I've already seen someone do this. But now I'm going to put my own take out there, being that I have a migraine right now.

This goes under the assumption that you and him are in a (relatively) stable relationship. Nothing crazy, but you aren't absurdly toxic and fighting all the time.

- It starts when, one day, you two are alone in his big office thing. Vox isn't aware of your migraines at this point; either you haven't told him to spare his feelings, or they just haven't come up yet. Regardless...

- You enter his room, bringing him his morning coffee. Now, his big evil lair is normally pleasantly dim to you, but now, it feels like every single LED is blinking at you for attention, or, more accurately, screaming in your face.

- You approach Vox with the intent to speak with him, but every step is really heavy, and you feel dizzy. Vox hears you enter, but turns back to look at you only when you've come closer.

- The moment he looks at you, you wince. His screen is so painfully bright, and it doesn't help when he starts talking.

- The two of you talk, and you're happy, despite the pain. Vox notices that something's up, but he doesn't comment until you hand him his mug and start clutching your head, trying to cover your eyes or look away subtly. He shuts up for a moment, squinting.

- "What's the matter, dear?" he asks - he sounds more confused than he does concerned, or perhaps a little upset. Has he done something wrong? Why aren't you looking at him? You've never done this before, and for some reason, it looks to him like you're in actual, physical pain from looking at him. That's gonna hurt his ego.

- But little does he know, that's the truth. You turn back a little and begin explaining it to him, looking rather guilty for not having explained it already.

- Vox is just a little offended that you thought he'd be upset if you told him, but figures that goes against his point, and doesn't tell you.

- Now, Vox is very work-oriented, not to mention very busy—he's going to have to get back to work soon enough, there's no doubt about that. But that doesn't mean he doesn't care.

- He turns you away, thanking you dismissively for bringing him his coffee.

- Later on though, in secret, he spares a little while to shower the internet for information on these—he'd never dealt with them personally, even while alive, and he didn't care enough about anyone else to have bothered looking them up before. But now, at last, he had a reason to look into them.

- He calls up a few doctors, pulls a few strings, and threatens a couple of employees to get to work, producing whatever they possibly can to help with your problem

- He surprises you with it all later in the day, once he gets off work. He brings you just about every possible remedy he's been able to find��medicine, earmuffs, caffeine, ice packs, even a blindfold!

- You're surprised by all of this effort—Vox doesn't seem like the type, does he? If you bring it up to him, he just plays it off coyly, telling you how he couldn't possibly just let his darling suffer like that. On the outside, he sounds like a smug bastard. On the inside, though, there's some truth to what he's saying.

- Eventually, the two of you end up hanging out. Vox would even go through the trouble of dimming his screen for you; in fact, he'd even shut it off entirely, just for you. He can still see you just fine due to the cameras inbuilt into his monitor; it's much preferable to having your pretty face look away from him in pain.

- You sleep peacefully that night next to Vox. He even massages your temples without asking. Vox isn't normally so smooth, but he finds success in it just thus once.

[quitealotofsodapop]

Pffft Baije's reaction

This whole time, he's had the image of some Savage monster, a party animal who causes problems on purpose, and it turns out Wukong was just a huge nerd! He'd thought that even if he had to go on their stupid journey with a savage monster, at least Wukong knows how to party! Baije wants his money back.

Tripitaka, meanwhile, is both confused and kind of fascinated. He hadn't known much about his most troubled student, not even why he had chosen to return after he initially escaped (turned out it was to briefly visit home and make sure Luzhen was OK, and then let him know that he was going on the journey. Wukong made a promise and he keeps his promises) so he can't help but be curious about Wukong's previously unknown siblings.

The only one to suspect it was Ao Lie, actually. Not because of his fancy nose or anything... he's just got a bunch of siblings himself, so he knows how to recognize the signs. That and it had been Luzhen and Wukong both who actually went to get Ringu Jingu Bang. Luzhen had been the one to break all the weapons, claiming they aren't suitable for his brother and then demand a proper kingly outfit for him that isnt just leaves, while Wukong had been with Ao Guang's wife and been the one Ringu Jingu Bang had called for. The reports had just gotten mixed up and made it seem like there was only one monkey. Ao Guang villager goes on record after the misunderstanding is cleared up, to say that while he doesn't really like either, he much prefers dealing with the elder twin. That younger sibling is just too wolds for his tastes. Wukong is also the one to want to go to Sinodhi's school, the but nerd.

I love the idea that the immortality pill incident was just an accident, and Wukong had thought they were painkillers. The show made it seem like they were only three to begin with, and I would be lying. I'd j never take three pills when I had the worst of my migraines, so it's reasonable to think Wukong may have done so on accident. Lao Tzu honestly has no leg to stand on when it comes to being angry since he never labeled them, left then out in the open, and hadn't bothered to let anyone know he wasn't going to be in. Wukong had taken one look around, saw Lao Tzu wasn't in, and thought that he could use his own alchemy training to properly dose himself without realizing the pills he took were NOT ibuprofen after he immediately noticed the facts.

Prev.

+from @booksfromthestars

Bajie is disbelieving and disappointed all at once. He thought he was going to be travelling with a party-animal, not a lightweight who'd rather read medical books and paint!

Tripitaka is an only child, so he doesn't really understand the habits one forms when you grow up with another person occupying your personal space. Things he considers selfish on the surface turn out to just to be a habit from living where your sibling is liable to steal the peach you were just eating. He is pleasantly surprised by Wukong keeping his promise and returning to resume the Journey after checking in on his little brother - Triptaka had assumed he was lying, and was too slow to warn Wukong not to put his hat back on. Wukong is *furious* when he feels something magical tighten around his skull. Tripitaka is still super guilty about that one.

Guanyin doesn't regret the circlet one bit - it's mostly an insurance for Luzhen rather than Wukong to behave himself.

Ao Lie is the younger of three brothers + a sister, so he can identify a fellow sibling from a mile away. The way Wukong protects his favourite foods when sitting with others, but also goes out of his way to pick up at least one piece of the others' faves while he's foraging. That's a sibling habit built upon mutual sharing and theft of each other's food (source; sibling). He also notices how Wukong acts around children they encounter, and it reminds him so much of his big brothers.

I love the imagery of Ao Guang's palace being broken into by two whole little monkeys. XD Well technically Luzhen broke in, Wukong politely asked at the door if the Dragon King or Queen could spare a weapon so that they could defend their people. Wukong's calmer/more respectful attitude endears him to Ao Guang and the Queen, though Luzhen still does bully the other dragons into giving his big bro full battle armour. The dragons accommodate these demands from a mix of fear (Wukong is a strong little monkey and his brother is unhinged) and amusement - they're all brothers too, and think it's sweet that Luzhen only wants the Best for his big bro. Guang wouldn't invite Luzhen into his house again though XD

Wukong is the brother who went to college while Luzhen stayed home. XD

Wukong took two pills thinking that they were painkillers, only to realise when he sobered up Immediately what they truly were. The third pill he pocketed and gave to Luzhen since whatever was about to happen, he didn't want his brother to not have a layer of immortality to him. Lao Tzu was still pissed, but to be fair he canonically doesn't label his stuff good (both in Jttw and LMK), and the "Makes You Immortal/Invulnerable Pills" look an *awful* lot like his patented Hangover cure so popular with the celestial soldiers.

Wukong took the full blame for the Havoc, no matter how much Luzhen tried to plead that it was mostly his doing - but the celestial host had assumed that Luzhen had been the one trying to cover for his older brother/was just a clever clone.

Luzhen screamed as his brother was dragged to the Furnace and the flames from the crucible fell upon their Island. He didn't have time to try and save him or the rest of the Brotherhood while their kingdom was burning to ashes - he had to protect their people.

Macaque never blamed Luzhen for his choice, the younger monkey was suffering enough knowing that his older brother was hurting. But Luzhen certainly roared in Macaque's face when him and Wukong had their fight under the Mountain. Depending on how things go, Macaque might take Luzhen's words to heart and return to Wukong's arms to apologize. Whether or not Wukong will be as forgiving is to be seen.

[a-little-revolution]

Totally feel free to let me know if this has already been discussed already! But , in your personal opinion, do you think the dwarfism pride flag should have more contrasting colors? I love that there's finally a flag to represent the community and it looks great, but from far away it might just read as a single block of green.

The only reason i even mention it is because i remember that some edits were made to the original disability pride flag as well once it was pointed out that the zigzag pattern could be serizure/migraine inducing. Which was easy to do since the creator of that particular flag was on tumblr.

Do you know if the dwarfism pride flag creator uses tumblr as well?

Or do you think that maybe its lack of contrast (therefore lessened visibility from far aware or to low-sighted folks) isnt really a problem? I wasn't even sure if it was really an issue or not lol, but I figure i'd ask your opinion just for the heck of it.

Hello! For those who aren't familiar, the dwarfism pride flag (design by Jon Morato and Margo Drew) is as shown above, and more information on the flag can be found here!

Photo Description: the dwarfism pride flag hanging vertically over a plain white background. It includes multiple shades of lime green and yellow blocks in varying sizes put together to make a sort of brick-like pattern.

(Note that the following is only my own personal opinion of the flag, and not in any way a critique or offence against the creators!)

I do agree that I would enjoy the flag more if there were more contrasting colours, and that it would be more visually accessible if there were. I would also love to see a triangle of the disability pride flag incorporated in it, similar to the inclusive LGBTQIA+ flag. Additionally, I worry that the colour green representing dwarfism has the potential to reminding folks of leprechauns.

All this to say, though, I really enjoy having a dwarfism pride flag come into popularity! For a long time it was only the ribbon - which left me with an odd feeling since often ribbons are associated with conditions that we're aiming to cure (like cancer or other illnesses). I hope that our flag continues to grow and evolve as our community does!

[hischierswhore]

you're the problem

pairing: Mason Mount x Reader

TW: asshole!Mason // cursing // verbal arguments // if i missed anything, please let me know

A/N: listened to "blame's on me" by Alexander Stewart on repeat while writing this. apologies in advance !!

"I'm fucking stressed, Y/n, and you're not making it any better!" Mason shouted as you sat on one of the kitchen stools, holding your head in your hands in attempt to ease your growing migraine.

"I can't fucking do this anymore" You mumbled to yourself as your made your way up the stairs and to your bedroom, locking the door once you were inside. You heard Mason shout "Just run away from your problems like you always do".

You brought your knees to your chest as you sobbed on your bedroom floor. How could he be so insensitive and so self-centered when all you did was show him the love & support he craved so desperately?

This had been going on for the past month. You arriving home from work and immediately being put in a screaming match with your boyfriend of 2 years, though it was more of him screaming at you and you just becoming his personal punching bag.

You tried your hardest to stay. You tried to stay for him, to help him change and better himself, but it seems as though every night he goes back to his old ways. You understood he was frustrated with himself because of his performance lately, but that shouldn't be any reason for him to take it out on you.

"Why do I even bother?" You asked yourself as you cried again, tears rolling down your cheeks as you hugged your legs tightly to your chest as some form of protection. You stayed like this for a few moments before opting to grab your suitcase and leave.

You knew if you stayed you'd only cry harder. You opened the door to hear Mason speaking to someone downstairs. You assumed it was Ben or Declan, but you didn't care. Nothing he said or did could change your mind to make you stay. You'd given up, you were done.

You carried your suitcase down the stairs, immediately causing Mason to turn his attention to you.

"I'll call you back" Mason spoke into the phone before ending the call and placing it on the counter. You tried to rush down the stairs and make your way to the front door without having to interact with him, but it seems as though an extremely heavy suitcase filled to the brim with everything you'd ever left at his house wasn't the easiest thing to carry down a flight of stairs.

"Where are you going?" Mason questioned when you finally reached the first floor.

"As far away from you as possible" You spoke dryly, not wanting to interact with him at this moment.

"My love, I'm sorry for-" Mason spoke but was interrupted by you.

"Save it, Mason. You do this shit all the time. You get frustrated because you're not performing well on the pitch and then you verbally take your frustration and anger out on me, and I'm fucking sick of it. I've tried to help you, Mason. I really have, but I've gotten to the point where I'm tired of being your personal punching bag. I'm just done" Tears stained your face once more as you voiced your frustrations to him.

"I didn't know you felt that way"

"Because you're too busy worrying about everything else in your life but me! Not once have you asked me if I'm okay since this whole thing started, Mason. I've lost all hope in this" You said as you gestured between the two of you.

"Look at me, Mason" He looked straight at you as you spoke.

"This isn't the man I fell in love with. This isn't you" Mason's eyes began to fill with tears as reality was setting in; he was losing you.

"For the longest time, I've been blaming myself for things that aren't my fault, and I'm only now realizing that it's you. You're the problem, Mason. It's your fault" You grabbed your suitcase and dragged it towards the front door, leaving Mason frozen in shock at what was happening. With your hand on the door handle, you turned around one last time.

"I hope you resolve whatever the hell is going on with you. Goodbye, Mason" Mason was still in shock at the foot of the stairs. Your words echoed through his mind as you left his house.

You packed your suitcase in the back of your car and drove back to your apartment. Your mind wandered throughout the car ride, trying to come up with different scenarios that could possibly cause Mason to change. He may say or do something that will pull you back to him, but as the drive came to an end, you realized there was nothing he could do to bring you back into his life.

A voice deep within you wished there was, but as much as you wanted to believe in him, you couldn't. You had to let go and move on.

As soon as you arrived home, you jumped in the shower, ignoring your reflection staring back at you with nothing but longing in its eyes. No amount of water washing over your body would make those emotions disappear.

-

You laid across your bed with a blanket wrapped around you, wishing things would just go back to the way they used to be. You missed the loving & affectionate Mason, the one you'd fallen in love with. But those days were gone. Those days were long gone.

Mason had broken your heart. It didn't matter how many people you loved, you could never love another person like you loved him. That realization sent you spiraling into the darkest place you'd ever been in. Your brain couldn't think straight. The sudden loss of everything you thought you'd had all along destroyed you.

You began crying uncontrollably, clutching onto your pillow as if it were all that was keeping you alive. The moment you closed your eyes, your memories flooded your mind and that was enough to drive you into a state of despair. You let yourself drown in the memories.

You cried until you couldn't breathe. You cried until your throat hurt so bad it made you nauseous.

Everything had led you here. Everything you loved and cherished. Every happy memory you'd built up with Mason that seemed so easy and effortless until it had all disappeared. All your dreams seemed futile and unreachable after the events that took place earlier today.

-

Mason couldn't even fathom the pain you were in. The pain you were in because of him and his actions. He never realized what he was putting you through. He attempted to reach out, but it was no use; you'd blocked him on every platform there was. You wanted him out of your life, completely out of your life.

How could he possibly understand the type of grief he'd caused you? How could he comprehend the depths of sadness you were feeling right now?

He'd broken you and now he wanted nothing more than to fix everything he had done. To hold you close and tell you he was sorry. But he couldn't apologize for the mistakes he'd made; he hadn't been there for you during all of it. He hadn't held you while you sobbed or comforted you after one of your many arguments.

He'd lost you for good.

[macgyvermedical]

Howdy! Sorry if I sound too rude, but why would you share around the toxic and letal dose of drugs around on the internet? Paracetamol overdose is very common in suicide attempts, I see a case everyday in the ER and even the "lighter" cases requires at least 48h in a hospital. The antidote has important adverse effects, it's not something that will be used unless the medical team deems it absolutely necessary.

I understand why you feel it's important to share the info around, but it WILL be abused. Absolute numbers aren't supposed to be aired like that. Even when discussing a case with a doctor, I avoid mentioning the specific toxic dose — only if the patient has reached it or not.

Please, be careful about divulging unnecessary toxicological information. Even with medical intervention, not every suicide attempt has a happy ending.

The referenced PSA was aimed at preventing unintentional overdose injury and death by providing accurate information on the narrowness of the window between a therapeutic dose and a toxic one.

Unintentional overdose is a serious problem in the chronic pain community (prescription and OTC pain meds often have acetaminophen in them, in many places without obvious labeling), as well as one for people who don’t frequently use OTC pain/cold/allergy/migraine/period relief products (who may not think to check if two different brands of medication contain the same product).

You can find many reblogs and tags on that post that provide accurate information on the drawn-out pain and misery that acetaminophen overdose causes. While I wish I had addressed that in the original post, my main goal was to provide accurate information to prevent people from messing up their liver by thinking that surely the dose written on the bottle was less than the maximum safe dose (true with ibuprofen, diphenhydramine, and many more, not true with acetaminophen).

I feel like intentional overdose is a different matter, and requires a very different type of post, and I tagged appropriately for those wishing to avoid overdose related triggers.

[fluidstatick]

"For more information join my discord"

listen, every time i've joined a discord i've ended up with less information. It gives me a migraine.

Incoming cranky essay about the declining availability of information --

"discord is great though, just curate your settings so it's less overwhelming, it's not hard" - that's cute. the settings are so opaque i can barely set my username and flair, let alone adjust the ui without falling into a shitty youtube tutorial wormhole first. 'what is up you g-' shut up and show me which tickbox i need to untick before i chew off my own eyelids.

i'm begging y'all to create dedicated forums for your stuff that aren't full of in-joke hashtags and nested threads that don't actually begin or end at the origin of any given conversation.

'but that's what reddit is for.' apparently not? subreddits are where you go to 1. argue, 2. make esoteric inside jokes, 3. talk down to people that are confused, 4. answer one (1) question while omitting several crucial details.

'google is free, old man.' searching google (and duckduckgo, ecosia, startpage, brave, quant, gibiru, swisscows, neocities, all of em, i'm tired) points me to 1. amazon, 2. ebay, and 3. reddit; reddit throws a dogwhistled slur at me and tells me that google is free, if one more person tells me to do my own research and I end up with a discord invite i'm going to hack into their minecraft world and obliterate everything with tnt and lava

Curse of Knowledge, (n) : The cognitive bias that prevents people from understanding the perspective of those who do not have as much information as them.

This ↑ shit has worked its way into every corner of the internet and shows no sign of self correcting. Making information freely available is crucial to the endurance of literacy, independent thought, creative problem solving, and general resilience. Put the lore for your Creative Thingy in a format that won't decay, self delete, or be obfuscated by unrelated noise. Don't leave anything out because it's "obvious", or in the hope of giving your audience a mystery to play with. Encyclopedias aren't supposed to be escape rooms or crossword puzzles. Guidebooks aren't escape rooms full of shiny trinkets.

Information is not entertainment.

Information is not entertainment.

Information. Is Not. Entertainment.

Step away from the bloated four minute youtube intros. Put down the expired discord invites, the wiki stubs, the dead links to ebooks on defunct store pages, the reddit threads full of [deleted], the endless parade of abandoned dropbox links.

Write your shit down in a safe place. If it's digital, make multiple backups - post it on discord if you must, but convert it to as many file types as you can fit it into: pdf and epub, zip and jpg and rtf. Stick all your backups on an external hard drive, so when [chat client] and [wiki client] and [filesharing site] and [cloud storage] and [archive site] and [social media platform] die, you have your shit and you can still share it.

I said When, because there is no If. I was around when you could still read microfiche of 19th century documents at almost every library in America. I remember searching for books in card files, learning to cross reference an encyclopedia to a history book, and installing Encarta 2000 on my dad's desktop computer so I could check it against the article I'd photocopied out of my school's 1996 Encyclopedia Britanica. I vividly recall when Livejournal was a baby, and everyone swore up and down that Geocities and Angelfire blog rings would outlive it. I then watched Livejournal, Diaryland, DiaryX, Xanga, Digg, Soup.io, Yahoo, Scribble, Vox, Posterous, and dozens of other platforms collapse like wet paper. The internet is supposedly a digital library of Alexandria, and it sort of is, but only in the sense that it's perpetually burning down.

Don't rely on Internet megaplatforms for your information. We saw what happened to Facebook, Twitter, and all the others. FOSTA/SESTA isn't just a scary acronym. Capitalism and the march of time will devour Tumblr and Discord, Tiktok and A03 and YouTube.

In the meantime, quit being coy with what you know, and quit treating people with questions like they're trying to steal from you.

[why-is-thinking-so-hard]

more superhero cadina au

this time its regina, once again it gets long, but this time because I got distracted while researching sharks and decided to add so many shark facts

⚠️spoilers for mean girls as always⚠️

I feel like vampire regina has been done a lot and I wanted to try something different so after throwing some stuff around with my friend, we've come to the conclusion of: siren!regina.

I wanted her to have an influential power over people like she does in canon, but, like I said, I didn't want to make her a vampire. this also removes the immortality problem.

general regina superhero cadina au details:

so, regina is a siren from a family of sirens on her dads side, Kylie exists in this au and is also a siren, her mother is not a siren(clearly). she has the classic hypnotizing siren voice, shriek, water breathing, human/mermaid physiology(especially when she touches water, so like she has internal fish stuff all the time but when she wants to have external fish stuff/touches water she can get it h2o style), and manipulation of water

in her h2o mermaid form, Reginas fishform is shark. shark regina. because of apex predator and also because I like sharks and I wants regina to have electroreceptors which sharks do have but we can leave that for a different essay/post

false actually, I cannot keep my mouth shut when ive learned new things and as I said above, I spent an entire afternoon researching sharks. I know that the point of her powers in this au is that she's a siren, but part of that is the whole mermaid physiology bit, so hear we go: ive decided regina would be a bull shark because I realized that if she was a shark, she would need to be near saltwater so she wouldn't fucking die UNLESS her shark part was euryhaline, which bull sharks are, and they've actually been spotted as far as Illinois when going up the Mississippi.

bite force of 5,914 newtons, jaws aren't attached to the cranium so imagine the shenanigans regina pulls to freak people out by moving her jaw in weird ass ways and snatching food without moving her head. sharks have multiple rows of teeth and regularly shed and replace their teeth with no rhyme or reason, so regina will randomly lose teeth with the new ones just immediately popping right up behind it, sometimes she spit them at people who annoy her(Gretchen secretly collects them). her scales reduce drag when swimming so when rubbed the wrong way they're extremely rough so she can literally rub people the wrong way. shark siren form regina is 13ft long. less fun, when food is scarce, sharks can slow their digestion, regina would do this when her mother makes comments about her body. bull sharks are more likely to bite humans than most sharks. extremely good sense of smell, like some sharks can smell one part per million of blood in water and they can determine the direction of a smell the way we can with sound and they're more attracted to the chemicals in the intestines of many species and shark hearing is extremely sharp and they can hear prey from miles away(their hearing sensitivity is in the range of 20 to 1000 Hz), so I can only imagine the migraines regina gets from being around teenagers,

night vision, nictating membrane, sharks have the greatest electrical sensitivity of any animal as they have electroreceptor organs numbering in the thousands that allow them to sense the electromagnetic field of their prey as well as orient and navigate using the magnetic field of the earth and the ocean currents moving within it and creating electrical fields, lateral line tactile sensory system allows sharks to detect changes in water speed and pressure nearby and frequencies in the range of 25 to 50 Hz and lets them distinguish the currents around them, obstacles in their periphery, and struggling prey out of view.

im not sure how some of those would help regina, maybe they help her rule the school, they'd definitely help in superhero situations, but they'd definitely end up with her being hella overstimulated at school and might be why she's so frustrated with people all the time. I get that. anyway, sharks that need to continuously swim in order to breathe do something called sleep swimming, in order for them to actually get some sleep, its their spinal cord that controls the action, not their brain, seeing as regina would be able to breathe like a human and not need to constantly move she wouldn't need to do this, but I think she would have this habit of sleep walking and sometimes she does end up in the pool and sleep swims.

while she's not proud of it because it was prompted by her mothers comments, regina has used her siren powers to curate her popularity at school but no one knows she's a siren so they dont realize that

recurring h2o jokes with regina getting pelted with water and running off screaming "DONT LOOK AT ME" while you hear the h2o theme play faintly in the distance along with a splash will happen be warned. like. the homecoming scene where she gets the water sprayed on her is the same, she does the hair flip and everything and then. realizes. so she runs off screaming DONT LOOK AT ME and in the distance you can hear the h2o theme playing faintly

Regina's "janitor caught cady with a mouse in her mouth" was back in middle school, she, janis, Gretchen, and Karen went to the aquarium and she got distracted at one tank because she was listening to fish gossip and then later they went to the dolphin show and regina had to be forcibly removed from the premises after she started picking a fight with one of the dolphins(it called her 3 different slurs and insulted her clothing) and is no longer allowed at the Chicago aquarium. luckily her mother has a friend that was able to keep, "middle schooler has mad beef with dolphin," out of the headlines.

is regina a superhero herself before cady shows up in Evanston? yes actually. I did think about making her a villain but I want to have faith in regina having even a a molecule of a soul before cady shows up, she does have a younger sister after all and how can regina not have a soul when even my older sister does? just usual sisters giving each other, shit you know, I love her tho 🫶

I may have just written miraculous ladybug minus the bullshit love triangle, so um, there's that... but it's a superHERO cadina au and I wanted them to both be heroes.

Reginas dad runs some shady shit, ive yet to figure out exactly what it is, but the point is it's shady enough that even regina takes issue with it and decides to do something about it(little does she know, her dad is not directly involved in what happened to cadys dad but he has connections and that's how cady eventually gets involved with regina). so she adopts the hero persona of shark girl, it was gonna be a placeholder until I came up with the lore that she was inspired by the classic movie shark boy and lava girl, so as shark girl she fucks with her dads criminal shit and if she's extra pissed off, she will beat people within an inch of their life because she's not a saint. she focuses mainly on her dads business, feels guilty when she watches the news and sees things she could've easily stopped and maybe she helps where she can if she has time but she doesn't make a habit of it, not til cady comes around.

this got extremely long because of the shark facts, which I hope you enjoyed, so um, have some all over the place hcs as a reward for making it this far, even though these make it even longer

because sharks are hunted not only for their fins and meat, but also for the oil in their livers(not exactly a fun fact, but a true one nonetheless), I think regina would joke about just how much her liver would go for on the black market

regina has tried to break back into the aquarium to kill that dolphin, she had the sense to do it with her shark girl suit on so the "shark girl has major beef with Chicago aquarium dolphin" headline did make it to print this time

bull sharks will also hunt birds and terrestrial animals they can get too, as they are opportunistic feeders, so I can see cady and regina going after birds and small animals together while their friends regret not bringing leashes

regina tells cady she's a siren by asking, "would you still love me if I was a fish?" on a random Tuesday morning

I just know that bitch reenacts little mermaid any chance she gets

if you read this far, thank you for indulging all of. this. you've probably just learned more about sharks than you ever thought you would. and I did this for fun. anyway, so these posts were just to get the basic details of their powers out there, the next post should be getting into where the actual canon starts. keep reading, dont, either way, I will be writing more of this and I think the spidey au will be separate from this one. goodnight, y'all

[quendiviner]

25 & 26!!

THANK YOUUU <3

prompt writing ask game: senseless & how dare (you)

summary: small little meeting conversation between a project manager and his three head researches who just absolutely hate the manager's ideas.

---

Aleena twirled her pen in her hand. "Any idea why Samuel invited us to another little meeting?"

Erin shrugged. "Nope, I was kinda dragged here by my assistant. Toby, you've got any idea?"

Tobias raised its head from the table. "Uh, what?" After Erin repeated what they were had said before, it shook its head. "No, and honestly don't care about this whole thing. I asked him if I could take the rest of the day off because of my migraine and he told me to fuck off."

"Well, aren't you having a nice day today," Aleena reached for a water bottle and poured more water into its glass. "Here's some water for emotional support."

Tobias groaned and reached for the glass, holding it in its hand for a moment and then slowly pressed it against own forehead.

"Cheer up, maybe he'll let us go after he complains some more about us not supporting him."

The meeting room's door opened and Samuel walked in, a slightly annoyed expression on his face. He walked inside, closed the door and dusted off his jacket's shoulders.

"I heard some whispers around the office that you three," he glanced at the three head researchers, all three of whom just simply stared at him with confused faces, "have been complaining about some things I have decided on during the meeting. Would you tell me why?"

The researches looked at each other, slightly shrugging.

Samuel sighed. "How about I choose one of you to actually answer my question, then? Dr. Katz, would you like to say what exactly do you want me to do?"

Tobias shifted in its chair, leaning back and crossing its arms. "'Want'? Well, the only thing I actually want right now is to have my wife kiss me senseless just so I can forget all the bullshit you're trying to pull."

Aleena snorted with laughter and Erin covered their mouth to hide their wide smile.

Samuel sighed, again, and said with as neutral face expression as he could, "You think you're funny, huh?"

"I do think so, yes, thanks for asking."

"I don't agree."

Aleena chuckled. "That's your problem."

"Here's some food for thought, Samuel," Erin started, "We don't agree with you, give you our opinion based on our knowledge, and you still go do everything your way. You expect us to be completely fine with that? Hell, you chose us to your project, which means you should probably, I don't know, listen to us?"

"Some of you weren't chosen by me," he glanced at Toby, "And besides, you signed the contracts and they clearly state that I have the last word."

"Our contracts don't say we need to agree with your unethical ideas, either."

Samuel rolled his eyes. "What's unethical in wanting to move the process a bit faster? The quicker we finish the quicker we get our profits-"

"Are you fucking serious?" Tobias rose up and leaned on the table, "How dare you put some fucking money above human lives that could be lost due to your recklessness and idiotic need for more money?"

"I'm pretty sure everyone knows that working for a corporation usually means a 'money first, human lives for ads only' policy, but I guess some public sector researcher may not be aware of that. You're free to go back, too."

"You can't be fucking serious."

"Now, now," Aleena rose up and walked to Samuel, "As you can see, all three of us are against you. Complain to the steering group as much as you want, but I doubt any of us will do what you say. I suggest that you think about this, sleep on this and come back with new thoughts."

Samuel looked her in the eyes, "I suggest the same to you three, too. I am not backing down." He turned to the other two researchers. "We're done for today." He opened the door and left the room.

"So, what do we do now?" Erin asked, closing her journal.

Aleena shrugged. "I think we should just tell our teams to continue working the way we have been working."

Erin nodded. "Yep. And maybe contact some people in the steering group or whatever. What do you think, Toby? Who do you think we should contact?"

"The news outlets."

"Don't you think that's a bit...too much?"

"No," Tobias leaned back on its chair and covered his face, "Internal affairs are another option, though."

Aleena shook her head. "It's not that bad, yet. We could still change his mind, I think."

"Whatever. I'm going home."

---

taglist (reply/dm/ask in tags to be added or removed):

@spaceratprodigy @elvves @dekarios @aeducanthaig @edgepunk

@dickytwister @hiddenbeks @terendelev @tuntau @babylon5

@claudiawolf @velocitic

[punsmaster69]

29/OCT/20XX

"Thanks for coming over, Sans."

"no big deal. what's wrong with the-"

"...oh."

today i was woken up by a swarm of texts and calls by undyne. that isn't unusual in itself, but she said something was broken with her tv.

—

"i'm up i'm up"

"stop spamming me"

"Please come fix tv."

"alphys not willing to fix it or what"

"She's not here, and I KNOW you aren't doing jack shit right now."

"you're not wrong"

"why so urgent?"

"We're supposed to watch a movie tonight but we can't do that if she's fixing the TV instead!!"

"what did you do to it, anyway?"

she started typing, but stopped and didn't respond further.

"ok"

"be over in a sec"

—

"jeez, you really did a number on this thing."

"You can still fix it, right?"

"maybe."

"RIGHT??"

"probably."

"let's take it to her workshop."

the bulbs buzzed as i turned them on. white light illuminated the room's walls, covered in random manuals and posters. a gutted phone sat in the middle of the workspace, along with some random pieces and bits. undyne swept everything to the side, clearing space for the tv.

——

"Alphys, darling-"

"Oh. You're not Alphys."

"nope."

mettaton leaned over to see what i was doing.

"..Ah, yes. The poor television..."

"Undyne threw a controller at it in a fit of rage."

"over what?"

"My skills were too much for her to bear.."

"Resulting in this unfortunate casualty."

"...that's what i figured."

"anyways, alphys is out right now."

"...Right."

"Since you're here, you'll test a new product of mine, won't you?"

suddenly i felt sick, and hoped it wasn't going to be anything food-related.

to my relief, he only pulled out a shiny pen.

"It's brand new, it's fabulous, it's: MTT Brand Pen Number Three (Now With More Glitter)!!"

"Try it out, will you?"

[A glittery pink ink glob sits on the page. There are lines in the ink, like it was supposed to be something..]

"...might need a bit of workshopping."

he ignored me.

"Ooh! How fabulous!"

he shook the pen. glitter leaked onto his hand.

"Stunning! It's absolutely overflowing with the essence of Mettaton...!!"

"sure."

"A glowing review already!"

"Thank you for participating in product testing, Sans-darling. As thanks, you can keep this one as your very own!"

"..great."

and just like that, he was gone.

....maybe papyrus'll want this.

——

she powered on the tv.

everything looked normal.

"Nice! Thanks for the help on short notice, Sans."

"no problem, but..."

"don't throw anything else at it, alright?"

"I won't!"

"...."

"Maybe I'll stay off of it until Alphys gets back."

"probably for the best."

"i'm gonna get going."

"Wait, can I ask you something?"

"what's up?"

"..Are you doing okay?"

"why do you ask?"

"You were super sick, like, just last week. And now you're acting perfectly normal again, as if nothing even happened."

"Are you really okay?"

"......."

headaches aren't really noteworthy.

probably from the harsh fluorescent lights in alphys' workshop anyway.

"yeah."

"i'm good."

"If it turns out you're lying.."

"I'm gonna kick you into next YEAR, got it?!"

"..Once you're healthy again."

"ok. got it."

"seeya, undyne."

"Seeya, nerd."

——

"WHY DO YOU HAVE A PILLOW ON YOUR FACE?"

"blocking out the light."

"WHAT? I CAN'T HEAR YOU."

he lifted the pillow up.

"blocking out the light."

"DO YOU HAVE A MIGRAINE AGAIN?"

"..IS IT A NORMAL ONE?"

"pretty sure."

"OPEN YOUR EYES, PLEASE."

"...OKAY. SEEMS FINE."

paps put the pillow back down and turned off the light.

he took my water bottle and shook it, seeing how much there was.

then he pulled my blanket over me better.

deeming everything acceptable, he sat down with me.

"oh, right."

"mettaton gave me a glitter pen. it's in a bag in my left jacket pocket over there, if you want it instead."

sifting through my coat pocket (and removing a handful of condiment packets,) he pulled out the pen excitedly.

"fair warning, it leaks."

"DO YOU HAVE ANY PAPER IN YOUR POCKETS THAT I CAN TEST IT WITH?"

"uhh.. my journal, i guess."

[A glittery line starts, and stops in a glob. It starts again, forming messy pink words.]

"HELLO! THIS IS A SENTENCE, TO TEST A PEN. AND HERE IS A HEART, TO TEST A PEN!"

[Arrow pointing to a glitter heart. The page ends here.]

[The next page sticks to the last one, but manages to come apart without tearing. Little shapes and doodles in pink coat the page. They start out splotchy, but improve as they go on.]

[Nothing was written further by Sans.]

[sysmedsaresexist]

Can I add something anonymously about that post where you responded to someone saying they don't have a CDD because they feel like their systemhood is "the only condition [they] have NOT disabling [them]"? And this isn't like at the OP of that but just to bring this thought to people's attention, because I said practically the same thing when I got my DID assessment results.

Depending on what those other conditions are, if you haven't been assessed by someone with adequate experience in dissociative disorders (and maybe OP has, but that's why I say this isn't at OP specifically), it's hard to know that those conditions aren't caused or worsened by system-related stuff. There are a lot of ways that DID/OSDD can cause functional impairment that isn't directly and clearly related to switching or time loss.

I used to think my ADHD is much worse than it actually is, because I thought THAT was the reason for "losing track of time" so much, being so forgetful, suddenly feeling like I couldn't do something I normally can, "spacing out" all the time, suddenly saying things I hadn't realized I was about to say, etc. My ADHD contributes to those things of course, but it isn't the sole cause. That's functional impairment from DID, too.

People with DID/OSDD often can also meet criteria for PTSD (always, I think?), depression (almost always, afaik), anxiety, and oftentimes a variety of other disorders -- and whether a therapist diagnoses those things alongside DID/OSDD or chooses not to diagnose them because the symptoms are "better explained by" being considered part of DID/OSDD, there are a lot of ways those symptoms will interact with DID/OSDD, if someone has that. From symptom holders and emotion holders as an obvious example, to just having things affecting different alters differently. Having passive influence from a suicidal alter that gives you those thoughts is functional impairment. Nightmares disrupting your sleep on a regular basis is functional impairment.

I know it's also common for us to have somatic symptoms, too, especially headaches and migraines. Having to miss work because of migraines is functional impairment.

And it can also be less obvious things like related to work, school, socializing, or even a lot of emotional distress. Avoiding friends when certain alters are fronting because they feel uncomfortable having to pretend to be the host is functional impairment. Having a panic attack about going to work because you're expected to be competent in something but an alter is fronting who isn't as familiar with it is functional impairment. Consistently thinking you're worthless because you can't get a consistent sense of who you are as a person is functional impairment.

Sorry for the rambling, I'm just really passionate about this. I don't view my alters themselves as a "problem" or "impairment" at all -- they're the ones who help me get through the day despite all the stuff we deal with, so I'm really grateful for them actually -- but we developed in the way we did specifically because of DID, and our DID does impact us a lot, just... not in the ways people might expect? And if people can relate to that, I want those people to get the help they need, not just say "oh, but the problems aren't caused by my system."

^^^

I absolutely relate

I love this, thank you