#my meds have kicked in and now I have a headache

[milo-is-rambling]

Weight talk tw I guess idk how to describe the post sorry im a little high

It’s so weird being around people who talk about weight problems (IOP) and like idk it brings up weird shit in my brain almost anxiety that I should feel bad about myself somehow like I’m doing this wrong being confident idk. Weird self doubt thing that happens when you’ve loved yourself (hmm. Rephrase. I don’t care about being fat. let’s say that.) and then you’re in a room full of people having a group discussion about how they avoid living their life in happy ways because they don’t want to become like you. But you love yourself. But everyone in your life since you were little has been dieting and talking about weight and specific numbers (someone was anxious about gaining seven pounds! SEVEN. If they saw my scale they would shit themselves. I put on seven pounds taking a big bong rip Jesus fucking Christ seven pounds. I wanted to rip my hair out.)

Next time weight issues come up in IOP I’m stepping out of the room. Like idk how to explain it cause it’s like not a trigger but I guess it is ? But it’s just so weird like the way I’m triggered makes me want to cry why does the world hate me for being fat what the fuck !!!!

[evilminji]

Okay, so maybe it's just me? Projecting my new Tea Phase?

Cause for med reasons, no more energy drinks, only Teeeeeeaaaaa~☆

But honestly? Now that I am an adult and ACTUALLY KNOW HOW TO MAKE IT? Really digging it! Am enjoying the Teas. Mmmmmmm~ leaf broth. I like the fruity ones.

So! IMAGINE~☆ If you will:

Danny. 14 and his parents are LOUD AS FUCK (CRASH BANG SMASH BANG WHIIII-) dispite it being, once again, a school night. This has been going one For Years. That STUPID fucking machine. All God damned hours. Crashes and bangs and powertools. Explosions.

When will it ever end!

He's... he's honestly used it.

Unknowingly? This is is a skill that will come in handy later. Living and functioning while sleep deprived. Healthy? Fuck no. But it's USEFUL. He IS the ten year old downing Monster drinks in the parking lot before school.

It makes him a jittery weirdo. Twitchy. Too much caffeine, not enough sleep, his parents either blew up or TOOK APART the washing machine AGAIN. He... he never stood a chance. It's a miracle the indoor plumbing hasn't been compromised yet... AGAIN.

His blood is more sugar, caffeine, and guarana or whatever those other things in the can are, then actual human blood. He doesn't CARE. He just needs too get decent grades, graduate, and become an astronaut. It's... it's FINE. This is normal. They're FINE.

(If they weren't... someone would have noticed, right? Would have DONE something. Cared. So it HAS to be fine. His family's just weird. It's FINE.)

But THEN...

The Accident.

And his biology CHANGES. Green goo, wrapped vicious and loving, around his very DNA. Like Kintsugi of the body and soul. In green, Green, GREEN. It... it's a lot. Everything changing all at once. Maybe that's why it takes him so long to notice.

Why he thinks "oh, I'm just tired cause I'm running more then usual. Fighting and flying. Doing ghost stuff."

When... when honestly? Some part of him always kinda KNEW. From the very moment he stumbled out of the portal. The aftershocks. The pain. Sam and Tucker crying, scrambling to help him up the stairs. Sam tearing her bag apart looking for her cramps medicine. Because... because pain medication is pain medication.

"It's gonna be okay, Danny. Please. Please god, just take it! I promise it's gonna be okay!"

How do you look your panicked, crying, strongest-person-you-know best friend in the eyes and tell her... you can FEEL it dissolving in your throat. Like the pills were dumped in a human shaped pot of acid. That... that the pain isn't changing... and you... you don't think it's going too.

When you're scared. Might be dying. And you can already tell they think it's their fault. W... when you're all just KIDS. And all you can think is... you can let them know how bad... how bad it hurts...

They'd never be able to live with that knowledge.

Yeah. Yeah, Sam. Thanks. T... The pills helped a lot. He feels better. You really saved the day. He lo... loves you guys so much.

...

.....

He thinks about that moment A LOT. About how much he realized and knew, before the denial kicked in. Before he got so... Tired. Fresh of all that energy. And? You'd think he realize. The mood swings. The irritability. The headaches that disappear the SECOND he goes ghost. That he's in caffeine withdrawal. But? Nope.

He kinda blames the constant ghost attacks for distracting him.

But see... Sam? Doesn't drink tea. Goes against her diet. Tucker was where he GOT his illicit borderline illegal energy drinks. And his sister? Big on flavored sparkling waters. Which are gross to him.

His PARENTS drink a thick tar they insist is coffee. It might be liquid fudge. Zone knows its nearly the same consistency. It's horrifying. No thanks, he wants to LIVE.

It's? Ironically? Mr. Lancer and his constant detentions, that help Danny realize somethings up. Because Mr. Lancer shares. If he makes a cup for himself, he'll make one for you. It's how he was raised. And, yeah, the after school detentions? Those were herbal blends. No caffeine.

But...

But they tasted nice. Were warm. The classroom was quiet and as frustrating as it was? The tea itself? Was always... the one exception to how shit the situation was. So Danny finally broke down and asked about it. Learned Mr. Lancer knew a? Surprisingly LOT about tea. Huh.

Then one day he gets SATURDAY detention. Oh joy!

Bright and early. One of the few times he could be trying, desperately, to be sleeping through his parents cacophony. Catching up on his desperately needed Zzz's. Here he is... getting a handed a new cup of different tea?

Breakfast blend? And a bagel..

N...none hostile breakfast? A quiet space to catch up on his homework? No Dash? Just... just a quiet classroom, some tea, and the sounds on a peaceful morning outside?

......oh.

It's the best time he's had in school in... God, in YEARS. He gets so MUCH done. For once can concentrate. And? Actually, now that he thinks about it? Feels... awake? Or at the very least, not as sleepy. And being a Fenton, whom to the LAST are a genius if eccentric family, it's pretty damn easy to put two and two together.

Tea.

He felt more awake after having Lancer's breakfast blend tea.

He obviously asks about it. Then, after detention is done. Calm packs up. Goes home. Drops his back in his room. Goes ghost. And SHOOTS for the Far Frozen with his phone and an energy drink. Because clearly he's missing something and it's time to ask.

The good doctors of the Frozen are... gently horrified. Clawed hands steeples infront of their mouths as they try to tactfully figure out how to word "Great One, WHAT THE FUCK!?!? Why would you DO THIS TO YOURSELF!?" Because that... is not professional. Breathe. In, out, in, out. We can do this.

They get the most patient and restrained of their elders to... CALMLY, very VERY Calmly, ask some medical questions. Listen. Without judgements! Because they are medical professionals. Who do NOT want to scream, forever, into the void. Certainly not. So Calm! (They are going to BURN THAT CAN IN-)

Which! Huh. Yeah, that explains the constant exhaustion. He was poisoning himself. Kinda. Not so much the GHOST but the human half. Putting to much strain and too much trace chemicals, minerals, and buckets of sugar. General "mmmm :/ Don't Like THAT ™" energy from the Goo causing it too try and constantly burning it all out of existence. Endlessly.

The more he put in, the more there was to burn. The more there was to burn, the more tired he became. The more tired he became... well, the more he put in. It was a slowly lethal starvation cycle. Big Yikes.

The TEA on the other hand? Those are leaves. The good recognizes leaves and water. Other various plants, dried or otherwise. It ignores them as "fine" until they reach a "problematic" threshold, apparently? So... *blank look at the doctor*

*sighs in medical professional*

Tea? Good. Satan Can of Halfa Poison? Bad. Please drink tea.

👍🏻👍🏻👍🏻

And it's like MAGIC. He's suddenly BACK, baby! Ha ha ha! Skulker you fuckin THOUGHT?! Oh it's 2am? Well SUPRISE bitch! He's bright eyed and bushy tailed! His grades are up AND he's beating you like a drum! He has ice breakers for old people discussions now!! The local Tea Shops have NEVER been so well protected.

He actually manages to graduate with not just decent grades? But GOOD ones.

And the second. The INSTANT. He is legally his own man? Has his important paperwork squirrelled away and the go bags safely WELL outside of Amity. It's time. He meets OUTSIDE the house, because he's not an idiot. He's been practicing his Clones and has them ready to grab his parents so he can get out of there alive. Jazz is on video call from Star city.

His parents... suspected. Not at first, but as goofy as they are? They aren't ACTUALLY idiots. They've been watching, going over old research. Trying, failing, to get in touch with the League to have THEIR team test their research. Peer review is critical after all. They... they had been so certain. Are still somewhat certain.

But their research doesn't exactly ACCOUNT for this "halfa" phenomenon. So, there is a very real chance they are missing something. The one thing the DO know? Danny is their son. Stuck in some eternal mortally wounded state or not, he is a hero. And they weren't there for him.

They can't change their beliefs on a dime. But they've clearly missed a great deal. And refuse to fall to academic bias. The very thing that got them LAUGHED AT for decades. Mocked and belittled. This is their life's work. By God they WILL find out the truth.

It's? Better then he could have hoped. Not perfect. But better.

He helps set up safeties and a security check point at the portal. Both sides. He's kinda a big deal these days, mom, dad. Ghost scientists eager to work with them. A whole TEAM under their command. It certain endears ghosts to them a whole lot more. Then?

Copy of the blue prints, go bag turned into normal bags, Danny's off to college.

Bounces from major to major. Nothing really capturing his interest. As he aged, he's need less sleep. Gotten stronger. Grown into his father's height and grandfathers build. Tucker keeps calling him a dorito. Danny retaliates with Ancient Egyptian Cyber/Pharoah Twink allegations. According to SAM they are both dumbasses.

She's not WRONG... but hey D:<

Eventually? A really niche botany seminar run by Pamela Isely catches the attention of Tucker, who forwards it to him n Sam. Nice ™. It's being held in her Murder Park! Cool! Obviously they have to go. So off to Gotham they go. And? When they get there? Sam is APPALLED.

She may HATE landlords as much as the next activist.... but LOOK at all these run down, foreclosed, rotting buildings! Beautiful gothic infrastructure! Those could be businesses or homes! Danny, busy with signing them up, makes the mistake of tuning her out as she rants in fury. She does this some times. Needs to vent. Uh huh, you're very right. You should contact somebody. I agree. Mmmhmmm.

Hey, Sam, Ms. Isely needs your-....

Sam?

Oh FUCK ™.

By the time the Seminar come around? Sam has violently kicked in the door of more then a feel reality offices. Owns QUITE a few buildings. Danny is sweating. She... she's doing the THING again. The "gimme your Ghost Crew, I KNOW you have a highly specific Ghost Crew, don't you DARE lie to me or I take your knee caps, Danny" stare.

>.> Sam you can't keep doin- *stare intensifies* Yes Ma'am. *Pulls out Fenton phone* and so? Here come the renovation crew. The ONLY honest building Crew in all of Gotham. They cut no corners. Can't be threatened. Gangs, villians, and even local government office try to arrange... accidents on the build sites.

Nothing. Nada. In fact, it turns out more dangerous for THEM then this crew of outsiders!

Wtf!

Then? After these two College age weirdos finish Poison Fuckin Ivys HIGHLY SUSPECT biology seminar? Manson fucks off to who knows where! Leaving what HAS to be "the muscle" behind. Cause I mean? Look, at the guy! He's huge! And what does he do?

Goes building to building. Rents them out to low income families. Honest, hard working shop keepers. And? Eventually decides to settle smack dab in the middle of Gotham, in the shadow of Wayne fuckin tower, spitting distance from the Space museum..... and open? A tea shop? The FUCK?

"The Zone".

In a weird shade of green. With little ghosts, wearing crowns, because and I quote "it's funny"? Certainly crazy enough for Gotham. But like, it's loud as FUCK here. Crowded. There are gas attacks and shit. It'll never las-....

It stays untouched for MONTHS.

Sometimes being the ONLY building near it to be untouched. Gas NEVER getting in. The damn place a BUNKER. And? Despite looking like it's two floors? It's three. You enter and your actually on the second floor. No one's even sure where the fuck the guy LIVES, since he never seems to leave.

Not only THAT. But it... it's like one of those old school apothecaries. Big ol bank of drawers. Guy'll mix up your blend for you right as you watch. Tea nuts are actually risking COMING to Gotham to try his stuff. Writing articles. Apparently he has some pretty rare shit in those drawers.

Some UNKNOWN shit, according to one guy on ViewTube.

There's this whole debate on if it's Ultra Super Rare or that means it's just super cheap knock off crap. Some of them he won't make for people, even if they ask. There's a rumor it's for Meta's with specific diets. Or alien blends. But no one can verify that. Cause like?

Anyone who tries to cause trouble?

Can't fucking FIND the place. And if you're already inside? You just... drop. Stone cold unconscious. It's definitely magic but no one knows if it's HIS or Manson's? You know? He won't talk. Gets annoyed when harrased.

Which off course!

Leaves Only ONE gentleman for the job. An elite special forces trained expert. Polite, dignified, enjoyer of fine Teas. Alfred "Why do you chucklefucks keep forgetting I was in the Queens Service and a Registered Badass" Pennyworth.

After all! He DOES have the days shopping to do.

@babbling-babull @the-witchhunter @hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @lolottes

[ssentimentals]

seventeen members as love tropes: yoon jeonghan

fake dating

'and if only you looked me in the eyes, you'd see the truth - i'm hopelessly in love with you'

jeonghan is cool about this. he goes through his checklist: suit? check. nice bouquet of flowers? check. car keys? check. his logic? gone since the moment he agreed to accompany you on this event as your 'boyfriend'. painkillers for a splitting headache you're going to have by the end of this night? check. his sanity? gone, long gone. in all honesty, jeonghan doesn't think he's ever been sane since the moment he realized his feelings for you. you know, the ones that are very fit for a 'boyfriend' type but don't really fit for a 'good friend' type. anyways, jeonghan is cool about this.

'i am insane,' he says out loud, looking at his reflection in the mirror. he looks good because of course he does, this event is important for you and he'd rather eat shit than fuck up anything for you. 'this is insane.'

he spends next twenty minutes on his way to your house by assuring himself that everything is going to go well. so what that just the thought of having his arm wrapped around your waist has him squealing like a five years old boy? that hearing you call him your boyfriend has goosebumps breaking out on his skin? that having an opportunity to take care of you in a more romantic, intimate way has him shaking a little? and so what that when you walk out looking gorgeous his heart stops for a second? he is cool. jeonghan is cool about this.

'you don't have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable,' you say, taking his hand when he opens the door for you. 'i'm so sorry for dragging you into this, hannie.'

'you owe me,' he jokes, throat tightening when you let him pull you closer. 'feel free to kick me in the balls if i say or do something wrong there.'

'noted!' you agree cheerily and god, he can just kiss you right here, right now. how is this not a crime for being so cute?! 'let's go then, my boyfriend.'

jeonghan's heart doesn't skip a beat at this because he is cool about this. and he tries his best to be there for you for the whole evening, turns on all of his charm to be liked by all the guests and poses prettily for all pics. your hand in his feels right, you leaning on his side for support feels right, him as your boyfriend feels right. you two fall into this 'fake couple' thing surprisingly easily, everything goes without a hitch - you glow, jeonghan stays right next to you and if anyone dares to tell him that it is not right, he'll commit murder.

'hannie, i never thought it'd be that easy with you!' you exclaim in his car, getting comfortable on the seat. your relaxed posture like you belong here, the way wind plays with your hair - jeonghan has trouble focusing on the road ahead. 'you are the perfect fake boyfriend, my friend.'

and that shouldn't hurt, right? only it does. a lot. jeonghan gulps, speeding through the streets. 'should i be offended that you thought i'd be anything less than perfect?' he asks, going to a familiar trope of jokes and laughs with you. 'you know me!'

'i know,' you agree, turning over to look at him properly. jeonghan notices how you frown a little and he points at the armrest. 'what?'

'painkillers are there,' he answers, watching you light up. 'you always forget to take them, silly. you know you get headaches from being exposed to loud voices for too long and yet i'm the one who always has your meds with me.'

you chuckle, grabbing water bottle from backseat. 'i know-i know! you are a life savior, hannie. really, you're so thoughtful, you'd make someone so happy one day.'

there it is. jeonghan thinks once, twice and- he's cool about this, remember? 'it can be you.' it's a red light, he stops and turns to you, calling out for all bravery he only has. 'that someone can be you. if you want.'

you don't say anything in the first tree minutes and jeonghan has half a mind to jump out of the car, but then you hiccup comically and bubble of tension bursts, making you both laugh. 'i-' you start and then shake your head in disbelief. 'wait, is this how am i getting my confession?'

jeonghan fears his heart will burst if he looks at you right now. instead, he grips the steering wheel tighter and mutters: 'you'll get a better confession if you tell me right now that you're going to accept it.'

'what a silly boy you are,' you say and it should be offensive, but you say it with so much fondness that he can't find this comment hurtful. 'of course i will accept it, hannie. you don't think i would've asked anyone else for this 'fake boyfriend' thing, right? i would've just gone alone.'

and it's -wonderful. sense of relief floods his system and hope bubbles in his stomach. 'i'm about to pull over and kiss you right now,' he announces, turning to look at you seriously. 'blink if you agree.'

you laugh and flowers in his chest bloom. 'i'm blinking twice just so you could be sure.'

jeonghan is very cool abut this situation, so he pulls over in the first corner and kisses you like a boyfriend would've kissed you. like he would've kissed you because he thinks title of 'boyfriend' is his for now and for ever.

a/n: squealing, kicking my feet. this is for all hannie stans, who are having hard time due to latest news. i'm here for you! 🫡 - nini

my other works are here

[mousedetective]

URGENT! Please Help A Homeless, Disabled & Mostly Queer Family Get Ready For Housing By Helping With Paying For Much-Needed Loans!

PAYPAL | AMAZON WISHLIST | KOFI | GOFUNDME

VENMO: @penaltywaltz | CASHAPP: $afteriwake23 | ZELLE: DM me for email address

4/29/24 - New Post

So some stuff has happened, some of the loans I listed before have been paid, and I missed a few things, so I'm making a new post!

So, we still haven't heard about Section 8, and while I'm grateful for the shelter housing and feeding us, there's been some pretty toxic activity on my floor and I'm at my wit's end. I'm not sleeping well, I have constant headaches from grinding my teeth, and my blood pressure (which is already high and I'm already on meds for it) keeps being high when I get it checked. So we need to get housing with or without the Section 8 voucher as soon as possible.

Now, I have a list of low-income apartments all over North County. While not ideal, we have also heard of a complex of studio apartments available for $1400 which give preferential treatment to shelter occupants. But the problem is that I not only have a bunch of payday loans to pay, but I also have a payment on a two-month loan, a five-month loan, a six-month loan, and a year-long loan that eat up my entire income until I at least pay off the first three. My mom only gets $1300 and my daughter isn't on disability yet. So we can't even afford the studio until October and we'll have been kicked out of the shelter long before then.

I can probably cover the remaining payday loans and this month's payment for the two-month loan and still pay for the storage units. But I need to pay off whatever I can on the other loans, and the longer I wait the more interest that compiles. So I need a lot more than I was asking for before and I need it quickly to cover at least all of this month's payments while I work on paying off the totals of the bigger loans.

This is the list of payments I need to make as it stands now:

$300 for my loan from Ace Cash Express (due by May 2nd)

$300 for my mom's loan from Ace Cash Express (due May 2nd)

$408 for my loan payment from Ascend Loans (due May 3rd)

$277 for my loan payment from Greenline Loans (due May 3rd)

$177 for my loan payment from Green Arrow Loans (due May 3rd)

$148 for my loan payment to Possible Loans (due May 3rd)

$148 for my mom's loan payment to Possible Loans (due May 3rd)

$321.80 for my mom's loan from Moneylion (due by May 15th)

$285 for my Moneytree loan (due by May 25th)

$285 for my mom's Moneytree loan (due by May 26th)

I can't make partial payments on any of these loans except the Moneylion loans my mom has. I need the full amount for the payment to pay it off early, and for the four non-payday loans, I can't make an early payment but if I can cover the payments in my bank account with donations I'm good.

The Ascend loan was for $1,000. The Greenline loan was for $500. The Green Arrow loan was for $400. The Possible loans are $300 each, coming out as two payments of $148 (one this May, one in June) per loan. So I'm going to set two goals: covering all of the above payments and then covering the bigger loans as a whole throughout the month of May.

I can't take much more of the toxicity at the shelter at the moment, though I have hopes some of it will subside if the most toxic resident on my floor leaves this week like he's threatening to, but yeah. We just need to get all this paid off and get into housing of our own, even if it's just a studio for now. I'm including the $35 I got from a GFM towards the current totals because I spent all the rest of the money I had and I still haven't gotten that donation in my account yet.

TOTAL GOAL: $47/$4850

IMMEDIATE GOAL: $47/$2650

Goal has been met! However, the car is acting up, so we have to take it to our mechanic tomorrow. I may still need some help.

[luckystarchild]

Today I was the Ambassador

I had a migraine and sat in my workplace's storage warehouse for a bit to rest, away from noise and in the dark. Glasses off, phone away, just sitting in a chair with my eyes closed in the quiet. I had taken medication that makes me quite loopy, and it had kicked in a little while prior.

Soon a dude I didn't recognize wandered into the warehouse to take a phone call. Loudly. And when he was done, he called out to me from like 50 feet away, "Sorry, I didn't see you there! Hope I'm not disturbing you!"

And I, politely, because I wasn't sure which of my colleagues this might be, and because I'm generally a friendly person who doesn't shy away from social interaction, replied, "It's all good. I have a migraine and am just resting in a quiet place."

To which he replied, "A migraine? What's that like?"

[Long post below the cut, sorry]

For the next ten minutes he stood over me asking questions. What's it feel like? How do you treat it? What causes it? Why do you get them? How bad does it hurt on a scale of 1-10? I reiterated several times I needed quiet, but the hint went untaken, and he kept asking questions. I still didn't recognize him, but I had my glasses off, so I thought perhaps this was someone new, and I felt I needed to be polite just in case.

Eventually, curiosity assuaged, he said, "You never know what a person's going through. For instance, you told me you had a migraine, and I could've walked away. But I didn't, and I came over here, and now I know all about migraines and how bad they are!"

Me: "Yep, that you do. That's empathy for you."

Him: "Yeah! I could've just told you to shake it off. Like I could've told you it's just a headache. But I didn't!"

I was pretty doped up on my migraine meds and therefore not feeling belligerent, nor particularly sharp, but even through that haze I recognized the multiple points of irony studding the conversation. Alas, I was too doped up to think clearly about how to end the interaction, and I just said something like, "People say that a lot to me, to be honest, and I'm glad you didn't."

Him: "People say that a lot? What do you mean?"

Me: "Well, pain is invisible. Some people don't believe me when I say I have a migraine and need to sit somewhere quiet and dark." (No reaction; nuts.) "Some people don't take a minute to empathize. They just tell me it can't be that bad."

Him: "That's terrible. People really say that to you?"

Me: "Yeah. My mother does every time I tell her I have one."

Him: "Oh wow. Do you have a good relationship with your mother?"

Me: "Oh. Uh. No."

Him: "Wow, really?"

Me: "Really. But I came out as queer a few years back though, so the migraines aren't the reason why."

Him: "What's that mean?"

Me: "Which part?"

Him: "That you came out as queer. What does 'queer' mean? How are you queer? Can you explain it?"

This is where I kind of came back to myself through the medication fog. That was a deeply personal question. Many of the questions had been. I only belatedly realized the level of prying happening (see again: medication) and it occurred to me I still wasn't sure who this person actually was. Did I even want to share this with this person? Blearily I put my glasses back on and looked at him. Really looked.

He was wearing a Trump hat. Blue. "Take America Back," it said. Not being the instantly recognizable red to which I am accustomed, and without the aid of my glasses, I hadn't recognized it for what it was.

I also realized I didn't know this guy. He was not a coworker. But my addlepated brain slowly pieced together that there were contractors in the building working on [some maintenance project or another], and this must be one of them.

Normally I would not reveal anything about my queer identity to a stranger in a Trump hat. People wearing them have chased me shouting threats and obscenities based on presumptions they made based on the cut of my hair and my style of clothing alone. Normally I wouldn't be caught dead revealing anything about my gender or sexuality to a stranger in a Trump hat. But here I was, already deep in it, and in an isolated place, and suffering from pain, and being stared at expectantly by someone whose nature and temperament were yet a mystery to me.

But.

Generally speaking, I can tell when someone is asking a genuinely curious question. It feels markedly different from someone asking a shit-heel question that will lead to eventual antagonism. And this guy was not acting like the latter. He looked at me frankly, and his body language was neutral, and while his questions were blunt, he hadn't raised his voice. So far, he hadn't actually been antagonistic. Just blunt, and insistent, and maybe a little tone-deaf.

So, perhaps against my better judgement, I said: "Well, in my case, both my gender and my sexuality inform my choice of the word 'queer' as a personal label. I'm bisexual and nonbinary. 'Queer' covers both gender and sexuality, and for me it feels comfortable to use as an umbrella term." Realizing I did not want to arm this person with a word he shouldn't have carte blanche to use, I added: "But some people in the LGBTQIA community don't like the word 'queer,' so I wouldn't use it to describe a person unless you know that's the term they prefer. The word was once used as a slur, but some of us have reclaimed it, and I'm one of those people."

Him: "OK." A beat. "What's 'nonbinary' mean?"

So I explained. And it took a long time, because (as I soon learned, and expected from the outset) he did not know the difference between sex and gender, nor that male/female are used to describe sex, and that man/woman and male/female are not actually interchangeable terms when discussing gender and sex. He didn't not know there was something called a gender binary, nor that anyone could exist outside it. He didn't know what 'cisgender' meant (he had never heard the term). He didn't know that your sexuality and you gender exist independently of each other. He didn't know the words he could use to describe himself, if he were so inclined.

There was... a lot to cover.

Me: "So, I'm to assume you are a cisgender man."

Him: "I don't know what that means."

Me: "It means you were assigned male at birth and told you were a boy by a doctor/your family, and as an adult, you identity as a man. The identity you were assigned and the one you feel fits you best is the same. It's never changed."

Him: "Yeah! That's right!"

Me: "May I assume you're heterosexual?"

Him: "What does that mean?"

Like I said: There was a lot to cover.

And cover it I did. I was patient. He had some trouble with the lingo, of course, since it was all so new. He got words mixed up, and I fear there were parts I didn't explain properly. I wasn't exactly prepared to have the discussion that day, and I was in pain besides. I spent the entire time on tenterhooks, carefully waiting for any hints of antagonism or mockery in case I needed to fish or cut bait.

No mockery came. He got a little frustrated, I think, when he messed up some words, but he never snapped, or argued, or tried to tell me I was wrong about any of it. He just seemed curious.

"But what does nonbinary feel like?" he wanted to know. "Does it feel weird? Do you walk around feeling weird all the time?"

Me: "Kind of, yeah! Ever since I was a little kid, I never felt like I belonged anywhere. I didn't feel comfortable around girls, or around boys. Neither label fit me."

And he listened as I relayed a few anecdotes illustrating how that felt. And when I mentioned that my parents never really understood me as a kid, his brow furrowed.

Him: "They didn't get it?"

Me: "No. My parents were cattle ranchers."

Wide eyes. WIDE eyes. And that reaction cemented a hunch that had been growing in me since we started talking.

I live in Texas. I grew up here. I know how people think, even the ones I disagree with. To me, this guy seemed the type who might vote a certain way due to the influence of those around him, but one who doesn't know much about politics or anything outside his family or in-group. The one whose family "always votes Republican" but has never actually bothered to look up how a tariff works—and I know the type. I know how to work with someone like that. You have to find in-roads to empathy with these folks. Speak their language. If no one has actually fed them damaging misinformation (and it did not appear that anyone had!), there's an opportunity there to do some good.

Thus, sensing we were at the point of terminology overload anyway, I changed tactics. It was time for emotion, and personal experience, and giving him a touch-point for empathy. He was from this state, and the reaction to my folks being cattle ranchers was telling. So I leaned into that, hard.

Me: "We lived in the middle of nowhere, and my folks don't get it at all. There was nothing in my upbringing to really influence this. We were Baptists, on a ranch, in Texas. I didn't know a single gay or transgender person, but here I am."

Him: "So your parents didn't know anything about it at all."

Me: "Nope."

Him: "It was all you, and from when you were a kid!"

Me: "Yeah! They were absolutely baffled when I started telling them I didn't feel like a boy or a girl. It was just how I felt, and they didn't understand for a second."

Him: "Wow. WOW. It really was just a part of you, huh?"

Me: "Yup."

Him: "It's just how you felt inside. Wow!"

I realize these transcriptions, if read looking for sarcasm, could seem disingenuous. But he sounded sincere. He sounded utterly, painfully sincere. He looked surprised, and baffled, but also rather excited. Like he'd learned something new and was happy about that.

We chatted about a few more subjects after that: he wanted to know what transgender means, and why transgender people feel the way they do, sometimes without having the language to accurately convey his questions. But I listened, and I tried my best to educate. I stressed that gender is something people feel, and it can be hard to understand, but that it's up to an individual to know who they are best. And he nodded along, and never once argued, and asked questions frequently along the way.

We get tired, though, all of us. I was tired, and even though he was still asking questions, I think he was reaching information fatigue as well. So eventually I walked back to something we'd discussed before that I thought he could feel good about. End on a happy note. That feeling would hopefully stick once we parted ways, and color the memory thereafter.

"Y'know, you mentioned empathy earlier," I said. "Walking in another person's shoes."

Him: "Yeah!"

Me: "I think it's OK to admit we don't always understand exactly what a person feels, or why they feel it. It's OK to say you don't really get it. But if someone is living their best life, and they're not hurting anyone, it seems like we should just let them live it. That's what we'd want for ourselves, right?

Him: "Yeah, I agree with that!"

Me: "Transgender people are less than 1% of the world's population, too. So when you see people getting really mad over transgender people, it's like...why are they so mad? We're just living our lives. Don't they have bigger issues to worry about?"

Him: "Oh yeah. Much bigger. You're right!"

The conversation ended after that; maybe a few more light remarks, but nothing worth noting. I invited him to ask more questions if he had them and if he saw me in the building again. He said he would, and he thanked me, and we parted ways.

I relayed the conversation to a friend not long later. They stared at me for a second before asking, "Why in the world didn't you just walk away?"

And the honest answer, at first, was that my migraine made thinking clearly too difficult! But once I focused up, I made the decision to continue the conversation.

My reason for staying will probably resonate with folks from various groups: I stayed because in that moment, I had become the Ambassador.

When encountering a person who seems to have never met anyone from your group, and they realize you are a part of that fabled minority, you are placed (whether consciously or unconsciously ) atop a pedestal. In that moment, you are not an individual. Like it or not, you have become the spokesperson, the mouthpiece, the Ambassador of your entire social group. Anything you say can and will be used against your entire social group by whoever has elected you the Ambassador. If you react poorly, or yell, or scream, that person may leave the interaction thinking everyone in your group will yell, or scream, or react poorly to them. If they deem you, the Ambassador, unreasonable or rude, they may think everyone in your group is unreasonable and rude. And they may carry that opinion with them into the world, and they may inflict that opinion onto someone else.

This is unfair, of course. It's awful. Because these questions are invasive, and personal, and uncomfortable. Reacting poorly would be totally reasonable when asked something so deeply personal. Boundaries are healthy, and if you don't feel safe enough to discuss your gender/sexuality with a stranger in a Trump hat, you should absolutely walk away. Your feelings come first.

I'm lucky, though. I have an accepting workplace, and people who love me exactly as I am, and a support system. My state is a terrible place for queer folks, but given the above, I have some insulation from the worst of it. I'm also gregarious, and I've had some training talking to people off the cuff. If there's anyone who can manage playing the role of Ambassador for the afternoon, it's me. I have the spoons, so to speak. I can be the Lorax for half an hour, and I can try (try!) to give the random dude in the warehouse a quick education on my community.

He's just one guy. But he may know others. And if you can get through to even one unlikely person, why not make the time to take that chance?

So that's what I did today. He might not remember the terms we discussed, or the finer details on gender expression, nor the difference between sex and gender. But I hope the man in the Trump hat remembers the queer person who spoke calmly, and treated him kindly, and didn't get upset when asked invasive personal questions. And maybe (just maybe), I hope in my optimistic little heart that if someone else in a Trump hat tells him transgender people are a scourge, he might remember me, the queer kid who wasn't indoctrinated and came from the same Texas roots he did, and say, "I dunno. They're just out there living their best lives. That's what we want for ourselves, right?"

I can only hope I read him right. I can only hope he was truly listening. But even if I was wrong in that, I'm still glad I took that chance. Big things have small beginnings, as they say, and it never hurts to be kind.

(The only lesson I didn't teach him was to be careful asking such invasive questions, but given this all started over a migraine, I don't think I would've had much luck on that front, anyway. Haha!)

[thatstonedwriter]

˚₊‧🍄[ Pain in the Ass ]🍃˚₊‧

◉ Synopsis; Billy Butcher comforts(?) you as you deal with chronic pain

◉ CW; swearing, chronic pain, mentions of self-medication, references to ableism, Butcher might be a bit OOC (sorry), implied romantic attraction

◉ A/n- I’m still nervous about writing scenarios/short fics but i wanted to try it out since I really like this prompt. Hopefully it turned out alright- enjoy!

You’d done your best- really you had. All morning, quotes from people who thought they knew better, your parents, your own fucking doctors- everybody saying it’s just “mind over matter”- echoing in your head. Classic platitudes you’ve heard since you were younger; people trying to relate, but instead, minimizing your pain.

“Oh yeah I get it- sometimes my stomach hurts, too.”

“Headaches suck but it could always be worse right?”

“You can’t let pain control you.”

“Fuck those stupid God damn- agh!”

Annoyed grumbles turn into a sharp gasp as another wave of pain shoots through your joints. This paired with the stomach/headache combo from this morning was really wearing you down.

And now you were reaching a point of desperation. The medicine you’d been prescribed proved itself useless against the pain today- and sure you could ask for some meds from Frenchie’s stash but… that option should be saved as a last resort. You could ask for help from Hughie, Kimiko or M.M. Surely one of them would be kind enough to pick up more of your prescription or grab you some heating pads- but then again, going out in public could put them at risk. You couldn’t ask them to put their lives in danger for something so trivial.

Never had it crossed your mind to ask Butcher for help. Worst case scenario, he kicks you out of the group for being weak- best case scenario? He says something ableist and leaves you to fend for yourself. No. You’re not dealing with that shit, especially not now.

A knock on the door to your little “bedroom” signaled that a higher power had other plans for you.

“Ya’alright in there, love?” Butcher’s voice, in any other scenario would have been a pleasant surprise- but in this moment of vulnerability? It was like hearing death bells toll.

“Yeah- yep- yep I’m good, thanks.” Your curt reply was not unusual to Butcher, but certainly not preferred. Slightly worrisome, even. You hadn’t come out all morning, and now you’re miffed with him? He hadn’t even done anything to piss you off! Today, at least.

He tries the doorknob, letting out a frustrated huff when it turns out to be locked.

"Trying to let yourself in? See, you're why God made locks."

"Come now, no need for the 'ostility-"

You rolled your eyes as Butcher began his usual spew of excuses, but one in particular caught your attention. It was near the end of his little monologue- softer, quieter, and spoken with a hint of uncertainty.

"and besides… can't have ya crappin' out on us, yeah?"

Even from in your room, you could hear the uncomfortable shuffling of a man unacquainted with emotional vulnerability.

"I'm not 'crapping out' on anyone," you scoff, wincing as more pain sears through your body. "But.. I could use some hel- hey!"

Before you could even finish your sentence, the door "magically" opened- and there Butcher stood, sly smirk on his face, lockpick in hand. He catches your gaze and shoves the pick back in his pocket.

"So then, what seems to be the problem, eh?"

God, it's going to sound so ridiculous when you say it out loud. Compared to what everyone's been through, saying "my tummy hurts" isn't really a matter of urgency.

But it's more than a stomach or headache on it's own. It's more than your joints occasionally aching and popping. It's been every goddamn day for as long as you could remember. Would it really be so wrong to ask for help?

“It’s just been.. pain. All day.”

“Is that all? A’right, where does it ‘urt?”

“…Everywhere. All the time.”

Your response caught Butcher off-guard. He’d been expecting some minor complaints, or even a sarcastic retort about what an ass he was being. The cocky, confident expression was replaced with one of concern as he caught a glimpse of the medications littering the nightstand. Surprisingly enough, they were all your own prescriptions. Probably not strong enough for whatever you were dealing with, Butcher reckons.

“You tried Frenchie’s stash?” he sighs, playful demeanor gone as he goes fishing in his pocket for cigarettes and a light.

“I’m.. saving that as a last resort.”

Butcher lets out a ‘hmph’ as he lights a cigarette, taking a long drag and blowing the smoke out the door.

“What d’ya need?”

“Sorry?”

He takes another drag, this time blowing the smoke out his nose. “Make me a list, I can grab what’cha need.”

It was hard to tell whether or not Butcher was annoyed with you. On one hand, you could appreciate the concern. On the other, it was almost certain Butcher was frustrated with this show of “weakness.” It took you a moment to find the right words- not necessarily wanting to decline the offer, but hesitant to voice your needs.

“You don’t need to grab anything. Meds aren’t helping today, and I can’t ask you to put yourself at risk. But if you’re offering… I wouldn’t mind some company…”

Uneasy silence smothered the room until Butcher finally sighed, dropping his cig on the floor and putting it out before walking into the room, taking long, slow steps. He grabs a nearby chair, loud scraping assaulting your ears as Butcher drags it to the side of your bed, plopping himself down and crossing his arms. More uncomfortable silence envelops the two of you until you decide to speak up.

"You don't have to be here if you don't want to, y'know."

"I know," Butcher mumbles. He glances at you out of the side of his eye, gaze softening as he watches you wince as yet another wave of pain rolls through your body.

Black spots invade your vision as the aching in your body worsens. You let out a low groan, hands gripping the sheets tightly as you wait for this wave to pass.

A larger, calloused hand covers one of yours, startling you enough to open your eyes. Through the black spots, you swore you could see Butcher's hand on yours, thumb rubbing your knuckles softly.

"You'll uh.. You'll be a'right."

You let out a weak laugh at the awkward, but sweet attempt at comfort.

With how little you'd expected from him, this gentle, caring side to Butcher was a welcome surprise. As the pain dissipates, your eyes begin to flutter closed.

"How about ya take it easy today. I'll tell the others not to bother ya, and I'll come back 'n keep ya company." Butcher's voice is soft- unexpectedly considerate.

Nodding weakly, you lean your head back, shifting against the pillows to get comfortable once again.

Butcher squeezes your hand, keeping a firm hold on you as you drift back to sleep.

[solivagant242]

losing you pt. 9

remus lupin x f!reader

warnings: strong angst, losing a relationship, blood, car accident

pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3 pt. 4 pt. 5 pt. 6 pt. 7 pt. 8 pt.10

amberly is used as the MC here since i used to write a lot of fanfics with her, but feel free to self-insert or use whatever name you’d like <3

________________________________________

Amberly can hear a persistent beeping in the corner of her ear. She tries to turn her head to avoid it, shut it out, but the steady pulse continues.

She cracks her eyes open and discovers very quickly that just that simple motion hurts, sending a jolt of white pain directly to her skull. Squeezing her eyes shut again, she bites her lip as a dull headache blossoms behind her ears. 

Something is holding her hand. It takes her a second to figure out which hand, which direction. Everything is hazy, disoriented, and her limbs feel like they’ve been wrapped in thick, heavy cotton.

She looks up, eyes squeezed mostly shut.

“Hey,” whispers Sirius. He looks a mess- his black hair is a disaster and his eyes look red and dry. “You feel ok?”

Amberly tries to speak but can only manage a harsh croak. Her throat feels like it’s coated with dust.

Sirius hands her a glass of water off the table and holds it for her while she drinks. It hurts to sit up, and some of the water trickles over her face. She swallows gratefully and manages a hoarse, “Fine.”

He runs a hand over his face. “Merlin, Amberly. I turn my back for one second and you get hit by a car?”

“I don’t remember,” says Amberly sleepily. She’s pretty sure that whatever meds are currently hooked to her arm are starting to kick in again. Her limbs feel heavy.

Sirius strokes her hair. “Get some sleep, okay?”

She doesn’t answer, having already slipped away into dreams.

Getting to his feet, Sirius heads to the waiting room. His eyes are dangerously bright and his jaw is clenched. 

Remus is sitting in the uncomfortable plastic chair with his head in his hands.

He was at home when he got the news. The unfamiliar number popping up on his phone, staring at in confusion before swiping it open.

And then the businesslike, entirely calm voice on the other side. 

“Mr. Lupin?”

On his feet, confusion and a strange, icy dread washing over him. “Yes?”

“Your girlfriend was hit by a car about an hour or so ago. One of her friends apparently brought her in; we found your emergency contact in her bag.”

Remus’ face drained of color and he could hear roaring in his ears, his body turning numb and useless. He didn’t realize he was on his knees on the floor till the polished tiles were three inches away from his nose. “Is she- is she alive?” He barely managed to gasp out the words, voice unrecognizable even to himself. 

Amberly, sweet Amberly, my love, I can’t lose you-

“Yes, she’s been stabilized. She does have a nasty concussion and a fractured arm, so we’re keeping her sedated for now.”

“I’m coming down”-

“You’re the biggest fucking idiot this side of the planet”- seethes Sirius, giving Remus a decidedly hard push to the chest. 

Remus doesn’t even resist. His mouth is dry, heart racing- “Is she okay?” Desperation seeps into his voice as it cracks at the edges. “Can I see her”-

“You’ve got lot of fucking nerve asking that,” spits the black-haired boy. “Do you even realize what you did to her? And now you come in here acting like oh, everything’s fine”-

“I didn’t say it was fine,” snaps Remus. His voice is decidedly cracking now, and he smears roughly at his eyes with his sleeve. “I know this is all my fault”-

“Damn right it was. How could you fucking do this to her?”

“I didn’t mean to”-

“The fuck you didn’t! You’ve been treating her like absolute shit, when she literally breaks her fucking back to help you and gets nothing at all in return! You fucking told her to her face that you didn’t want her, all because Mr. High-and-Mighty Lupin can’t handle needing help for once in his life!”

Remus bows his head as tears run down his face, knuckles clenched white around his coat. “Please, I know, I just want to see her”-

“Mr. Lupin?”

Both turn at the impassive voice, a tired-looking doctor with spectacles and a smudged clipboard framed in the door. 

If he’d heard their conversation, he didn’t let on. “She’s awake.”

“Is she asking for me?” A tiny bit of hope sparks in Remus’ chest-

The doctor’s shoulders tighten, back turned to them.

“No.”

[russellsppttemplates]

Hi, can i request a blurb about pierre where his gf suffers from chronic migraines? :( i need this in my life

Note: if you suffer from migraines, I hope you're feeling better!

Cw: migraines and theyr symptoms, emergency room

Work mixed with travelling to enjoy the last few moments alone with Pierre before the season began, which brought you very little sleep triggered a massive migraine. Pierre found you in your shared bedroom with all the curtains closed and covers pulled around you, already assuming you hadn't been feeling that well since you asked him for some painkillers on his way home from his training session.

"Amour, what's wrong?", he said at his regular voice tone that, right now, seemed like he was screaming, the groan you let out concerning him even more as he approached you. Searching for his hand on the mattress, you spoke quietly, "I'm having a terrible migraine", you explained, Pierre weighing out your options and opting to get some flannels from the bathroom a little soaked in cold water and resting them on your head.

"Do you want some snuggles? I don't want to make it worse for you though", he whispered, "yes, please. Just let me lay on this side so it doesn't hurt as much", you whispered back, having managed to drink the tea he made for you and appreciating how his fingers kept running lightly through your hair, his kisses on your head attempting to help the pain.

When morning came around and you were bent over the toilet, pouring the little food you managed to keep down out and the meds didn't seem to be working, Pierre took matters into his own hands, "I've seen your migraines before and they're never this bad", he said.

"Call Dr. Martin, her contact is on my phone", you whispered, wiping your mouth while he went to call your doctor. Coming back to you, Mick laced your fingers in his, "Dr. Martin said that we should go to the ER, she's on call today and can see you", he said, earning a small nod from you as he helped you to the bedroom.

Sitting you on the bed, he helped you rid of your clothes, his touch delicate and soft as he helped you change out of your top and into one of his comfortable hoodies and one of your sweatpants, "all done, my love, c'mon now, gently", he said as he helped you make your way downstairs to the car and carefully drove to the hospital.

The admission was pretty quick and after checking you, you were prescribed a stronger medication and while you waited for it to kick in, Pierre was holding you against him, checking every now and again with you on how you were feeling, giving you your juice and encouragung you to drink a little bit, his lips not leaving your skin for long as he peppered little kisses where he could reach.

When you were back home and feeling a lot better, actually able to keep the homemade soup down, you were cuddling on the sofa, your smaller headache allowing the quiet lullaby of one of your boyfriend's playlists to actually soothe you as you tried to show him how thankful you were for him, "I love you and I only want you to feel good, I'd do whatever it takes to make you feel better", he whispered lovingly.

(Thank you for submitting an ask ✨️)

[andhumanslovedstories]

Hey so your post about pain management as a bedside nurse is so important to my own nursing practice that I've considered printing it out so I can have it to hand all the time. So thanks for that. Also, how do you deal with assignments that are busy enough that pain management is harder than it should be? I'm coming up on two years as a nurse and I feel like I take it personally when I am too busy to adequately manage my patients pain. I'm also coming from a newly unionized hospital where the ratios are still horrendous (I do 1:10 on med surg) and I'm hoping once we can enforce our staffing grids it'll be better but idk I'm burning out and I love my job so much and I really respect your nursing philosophy? I guess. Sorry for the word vomit it's been a crazy shift.

I've been trying to think of how to answer this since I got it. It's just such a horrendous ratio. With ten patients a shift, that's like six minutes an hour for each in a fantasy world where there's no charting and everything is exactly where you need it to be. I feel like I don't have great insight into this because the most med surg patients I've had assigned is five. Ten patients to one nurse is just a raw deal for everyone. Like christ no wonder you feel like you're burning out! I'll give you what thoughts I have and hopefully other people can chime in if they have suggestions. But that's such a hard patient load.

When I've been super swamped, I've found that's when being really explicit about your thinking with the patient helps. Like if I have to dash into a room and then dash back out, I'll make sure the board is updated with the next medication time and that the patient knows when the medication is going to kick in. I'll also provide call light parameters. I have a lot of success telling people, "the med should be doing something by 5:30. If I haven't checked in with you by then, and the pain is unchanged or barely changed, hit your call light and we'll try the next step. Also hit your call light if you feel any sudden change, like now you're nauseated or you have a headache or the type of pain changes or something just feels very wrong. Is there anything you need before I step out of the room?"

I like to be explicit about when to call me because I think there's two directions call light usage can go wrong: someone calls all the time, or someone never calls. With someone who calls all the time, I find that telling them when I'll be back and that I want them to call me if I'm not takes away some of that anxiety that can causes some people to call frequently. Often those patients are afraid that if they aren't on the call light, they're gonna get ignored.

For the other type of patient, the one that doesn't call, I want to make explicit that it's GOOD AND NORMAL TO CALL YOUR NURSE WHEN YOU HAVE SYMPTOMS. We've all had that patient at the end of shift who goes, "btw the gnawing pain in my leg is now a 10/10" and you're like "what gnawing pain sir?? you've literally never mentioned it before now?? I don't have any meds for that lemme page super quick????" These patients can get into pain crises easily because they don't ask for help until something is unbearable. In addition to pain crisis bad, it takes a lot more time to deal with something unbearable than it does to deal with something uncomfortable.

On that note, are you spending your very limited time efficiently? To me, that actually means spend more time talking with patients, at least up front. Manage expectations, make sure people know what to expect. Having conversations with patients that are like, "You just had surgery, it's not gonna happen that we get you completely painless. We want to get you to a manageable pain level that allows you to do whatever it is you most want to do this shift." (For me on nights, that's usually sleeping at least a little, but sometimes the realistic goal you make together is that you will feel at some point better than you feel right now.) "You have this medication scheduled, and you have this one available every X hours when your pain is severe. Is there anything you know that helps you deal with pain?"

Also establish if patients want to be woken up for certain prn medications or if they're sleeping, to let them sleep. With some patients, I will advise them to get woken up for pain medication because I know that they're going to need consistent control to avoid a crisis. (Crises take so much time!)

When I'm crunched for time, I'm fond of bringing in an ice pack and being like "if it works, great, if it doesn't, just take it off, either way here it is." Sometimes I'll do the same with a warm blanket. If I know my patient needs to take pills, I'll bring a cup of water with me into the room. If there's a basic prn like melatonin or tylenol that I think they might want, I'll pull them in advance. If the patient doesn't want them, I return them next time I'm in the med room. (Obviously, don't do this with controlled substances. It's super easy to forget to return them, and not returning opioids is one of those whoopsies people get fired over.)

Decision making takes time. Walking to go get stuff takes time. I want to save the time it takes to assess if the patient needs those things and then walk off to fetch them by just having the things already. If your tightest resource is time, be liberal with resources you can spare. If you're stuck with a patient, do you have anyone you can delegate a prn med pass to? Do you know how to do the absolute minimum charting you need to? Do you have flushes and alcohol wipes and whatever other most common things you need? And since you can't hoard time, if you've got some to spare, ask yourself if there is anything you can do now that will save you time later. If you have five free minutes now and an incontinent patient, getting them up to the bathroom now can save you from taking the time for incontinence care and a bed change later on when they've also sundowned and decide they hate everything but most of all you.

So much of this answer I realize is investing as much time upfront as you can, which I realize is so hard when you are so busy. It sucks immensely that prepping takes much less time than not being prepared does when you don't always have time to prep. Plus when you invest that time to pain plan with patients and do small preventative interventions, I think it also provides some psychological comfort that helps with pain. You're letting them know you're invested and you care and you have a plan, even if you don't have all the time you'd like. That can mean better pain control, which can mean needing to spend less time in that room overall, meaning you can save six whole minutes at some point and maybe even, if we're feeling crazy, get a chance to indulge in that greatest of indulgences: just a real leisurely on-shift piss.

[soaps-mohawk]

I imagine Simon has chronic headaches and the occasional migraine. He's just perpetually tense, the neck and head pain are a side effect of that.

Omega, after Simon stops wearing the mask 24/7, catches him sucking on ice cubes one day. His right eye, the one that's always a little more narrow than the other in the games, is almost fully closed, the other half-lidded. She pesters him until he admits that he's got a headache that's somehow so bad that he can feel it in his teeth and roof of his mouth. Pain meds hadn't touched it.

Cue Omega begging Kyle to take her to the store after she alerts Johnny to go take care of his alpha in her absence. They end up at the nearest Asda and Kyle, once he gets the full plan from Omega, tells her to go wild and not pay attention to prices. She grabs a tiny gift basket and stuffs it with different pain medicines, a few large ice packs, menthol cough drops to make cold water feel even colder to soothe the mouth pain, a card with a pun that's on par with his dad jokes. It just so happens to be around Halloween when the migraine attack happens - the little Grim Reaper plush keychain at the register ends up in the basket too.

She finds the keychain hanging from a thumbtack on his bulletin board a week later.

(Can you tell my migraine is kicking my ass?)

-🐰

I'm so sorry you have a migraine 😭 that's awful. Hopefully it gets better soon

I could see Simon with chronic headaches. He's probably gotten his share of head injuries and gets some awful chronic pain from them.

(I never noticed that about his eyes I'm about to make a deep dive staring at photos of him now)

Oh she absolutely would do that. It would be so sweet, her making a little care package for him. She'd throw in all kinds of things and make it super special. I love the grim reaper key chain so much. He'd secretly love it all and be so touched by it. Definitely hangs the key chain up and keeps the basket where he can see it so he can be reminded of what she did for him 🥺

It's too cute I just can't take it

[in1-nutshell]

Fearless Buddy got me thinking, how would MTMTE Megatron (and maybe Drift as well?) react to a Buddy who has been doing Martial Arts their whole life? Like, maybe they come across Buddy practicing some forms or they fight off an alien kidnapping attempt? Thanks and have a wonderful week!

Fearless has a particular set of skills and they are not afraid to use them.

Hope you enjoy!

Fearless Buddy doing martial arts with Megatron and Drift

SFW, Platonic, Mention of injury but nothing graphic, Human reader

MTMTE/LL

Fearless forgot to mention it.

But to be fair, they thought the bots already knew that they knew how to fight.

Years of martial arts certainly helped them get into this space program in the first place.

Granted, they couldn’t use their skills with the size they were or practice with any of the bots.

But then came that one fateful day some humanoid organic alien decided to board the ship and fight them.

Conveniently, Buddy was getting pent up from the amount of paperwork they were doing and needed a punching bag.

Oh, they were going to enjoy this.

Drift

Drift had received an alert about an unknown organic signature near Buddy’s location.

He quickly grabbed his swords and raced down the halls.

There was no telling what could have happened between the time he found the message and him getting there.

Drift turning the corner with his swords out.

“Buddy! Buddy where—”-- Drift

Drift seeing Buddy beating the ever-loving pits out of the slightly taller alien.

“Who’s the master here?!”--Buddy

The alien makes a painful gurgle.

Buddy starts kicking them harder.

“Wrong answer!”--Buddy

“… I can not begin to tell you what’s wrong with that statement.”--Drift

Buddy turning to see Drift.

“Hey Drift! Hold on a second.”--Buddy

Buddy slams their fist into the alien’s head knocking them out.

“Hey, what can I do for you?”--Buddy

Drift points at the alien.

“I was here for that and to save you. But clearly you have that figured out.”--Drift

Buddy puffs their chest a bit.

“Years of Martial Arts can do that Drift.”--Buddy

“… Do you mind teaching me some of those?”--Drift

“Sure! As soon as we put Grumpy here in custody and some proper hand wrappings, we’ll do it!”--Buddy

Somewhere on the Lost Light…

Ratchet looking up from his workstation.

“Ratchet?”—First Aid

“Something just happened, and I don’t like it. It feels like a headache coming my way.”--Ratchet

The pair make room in their schedules to practice some of the basics and to go over movements that are bot friendly.

Not all bots are flexible after all.

Drift has now incorporated some of these moves into his fighting style and it has indeed given Ratchet a headache from the accidental launching of rocks and equipment.

Megatron

Megatron is out the door once the readings of 5 larger organic lifeforms are right outside Fearless habsuite.

He is praying that he hasn’t gotten there too late, even comms in a small group of bots to come to Buddy’s location.

There was no telling what they were dealing with right now.

He turns the corner to see one of the aliens get thrown into the wall.

All their glory was Buddy fighting off the last alien with a peculiar looking fighting style.

He would have intervened if they hadn’t kicked them in the face and knocked them out.

Buddy pants a bit as the last alien falls down.

“That’s what you get you sorry son of—Megatron?”--Buddy

Megatron snaps out of it and rushes to Buddy’s side.

“Buddy, are you okay? What did—”--Megatron

“Woah, woah, Megs I’m fine. Nothing a little bit of fighting couldn’t handle.”--Buddy

“They were nearly double your height and you were outnumbered.”--Megatron

“But I won! Urgh…”--Buddy

Buddy sways a bit.

Megatron scoops them up in his servos.

“We are heading to the med bay now.”--Megatron

“The aliens…”--Buddy

“I have a group coming here to collect the fugitives. Med bay. Now.”--Megatron

It turned out that the adrenaline had just worn off and they were tired.

Megatron doesn’t want to leave Buddy’s sight.

They ask if they could stay with him for a bit.

Megatron is later seen in his co-captain chair with Buddy fast asleep on his lap with him absent mindedly petting them.

[mollycabot]

Alex Cabot X Reader Cold sucks

A/N got this idea cause I’ve got a cold that I can’t shake off, so here’s an Alex Cabot comfort one shot, also sorry it’s a short one I’m feeling very tried myself lol and want some sleep maybe we shall see 😂

Alex Cabot and Y/N usually get home around the same time most evenings however Alex got a text earlier on in the day from Y/N she home early but didn’t state why. So Alex decided after court to take her paperwork home so she can get out early.

Once she arrived at her and Y/N’s shared apartment she pushed open the door and walked straight to the kitchen and placed her files and briefcase on the kitchen island and then put her coat and shoes away.

Alex frowned as she walked into the living and not seeing Y/N who would usually be downstairs reading or playing the play station.

Alex decided to check the bedroom and found Y/N warped in a blanket and the bedside table litter with tissues. “Oh honey” Alex said quietly and went to wake Y/N Up with a gentle shake “Y/N my love I’m home” she said and Y/N rolled over to face her lover.

“Hey Lexi” Y/N said in a quiet voice who sounded like she was full of cold “you feeling ok my love?” Alex asked as Y/N shook her head “I think my cold has gone worse” Y/N said and Alex rubbed her back.

“Aww my poor baby you need anything?” Alex asked and Y/N spoke softly “yeh please could I have some more water and tissues please and something for my head it hurts” Y/N said and Alex nodded getting some bits from the kitchen.

One Alex collected the stuff she decided to put the flies in her office for an other day as now Y/N is her top priority.

“Here you go my love” Alex said placing the try on the bedside table and Y/N got up to grab it but then she was hit with a sneezing fit and couldn’t stop sneezing.

Once it eventually passed Alex rubbed Y/N’s back and told her to take a min and catch her breath and then handed over the water.

“Here baby got you some pain meds for your headache” Alex said handing them over to Y/N who took them with no complaints as she wanted some a relief.

“Thank you my love” Y/N said to Alex who gently kissed Y/N’s forehead and frowned “baby your burning up a little” Alex said getting up and getting a clod wash cloth to place on Y/N’s forehead. Once the meds kicked in and Y/N was more relaxed and felt like she could breathe a tiny bit better she started to get sleepy.

“Go to sleep love I’m just going to get myself ready for bed then I’ll come and join you” Alex said walking into the bathroom.

A little while later Alex came out and climbed into bed “feeling any better my love?” Alex asked and Y/N nodded “I’m now your here Lexi” Y/N said and snuggled into Alex who held her girlfriend close to her and kissed her head “I’m happy to be back and cuddling you to Y/N” Alex said quietly who also settled down to go to sleep and after a few cuddles they both where out like lights.

Next day Alex was the first to wake and she decided to leave Y/N to sleep a little while longer as she phoned the DA’s office and Y/N’s workplace to say she won’t be coming in and that Y/N won’t ether and that they need Casey to cover for her. And once Alex had done that she decided to make some chicken soup for Y/N.

After she was done making the soup she took it up to Y/N and helped her sit up “here sweetheart made you some chicken soup and got some more meds” Alex said helping her girlfriend to do so.

“Thanks love for taking such good care of me” Y/N said and later on as Y/N had lightened up and has some more energy Alex and Y/N were sat on the couch cuddle up with Y/N playing Minecraft and chilling with her head in Alex’s lap as Alex was going over some files and they both knew the day off will be a relaxing one even if Y/N was still sick.

[idontplaytrack]

✧ Mama Bear

Olivia Benson x teen daughter reader + younger brother Noah (ft. Amanda & Fin)

Warnings: fluff, slight descriptions of vomiting

In which, reader falls sick for the first time in a long time, driving Olivia into full on mama bear mode while having to juggle work and also making sure that Noah was taken care of

Olivia was making breakfast when she heard your usual morning alarm clock go off. However, when you didn’t turn it off like you usually would, she initially thought you just wanted to laze in bed for a little bit. Still ten minutes go by, you didn’t walk out and your alarm went off again. That caused alarms to go off in her head. Olivia turned the stove off and walked up to your room, knocking on the door.

“y/n, time to wake up, honey.” She opens the door after that, surprised to see your curtains closed and the blanket basically covering your head completely.

“No.” You mumbled into your pillow.

You never did this. “Honey, what’s wrong?” Her immediate reaction was honestly to worry, but she didn’t show it. Obviously. But it’s not like you could see her face.

“My head hurts so bad, Mom.” You croaked.

Now, the panic really set in. She hasn’t heard you admit you weren’t feeling well in at least 3 years. It was always an occasional cold or headache that you got, but this time around? You were really beaten down.

“Is sissy okay, mama?” Noah asked, Olivia turned her head to see him standing in your doorway.

“She’ll be okay, she’s just not feeling too good this morning. Give me a minute and I’ll bring you breakfast, okay, honey?”

“Okay.” The boy agreed quickly and left you and Olivia alone again.

“Baby, can you sit up for me please?” She requested, her hand rubbing your back comfortingly, “Is it just your head that hurts?”

“I don’t know.” You managed to tell her, your lower lip quivering, signalling to her that you were about to cry. Something she’s always knew about you- you cry easily when you’re ill. “My ears? I can’t- I can’t really hear that well on one side.”

“Oh, I think you have an ear infection, sweetheart.” Olivia realised, “Just- stay here and give me a minute to get Noah sorted.”

Olivia rushed back outside to give Noah his breakfast of pancakes and scrambled eggs then grabbed her phone to text Lucy to come over and keep an eye on Noah, then she texts Fin to tell him that she won’t be at work that morning, explaining why as well. He didn’t even need an explanation.

————

The doctor confirms Olivia’s suspicions of an ear infection. A double ear infection, an after effect of a cold which caused there to be fluid buildup in your inner ears and a bit of hearing loss — which thankfully, will resolve once the prescribed antibiotics kick in and run its full course. The doctor also gave you three days off of school in order to recuperate. But let’s face it, even if she didn’t, you would’ve stayed home anyway- even normal talking had you flinching. You couldn’t imagine spending a whole day in school feeling like this. Your head also felt like it was going to explode if people kept talking to you. It even hurt to open your mouth- so eating was the least of your worries currently. Finally, after a noisy drive, you were back home. Once the front door opened, Noah tackled you with a hug. “Hi, bubby.”

“Sorry you’re not feeling good.”

“Thanks, bub.” You ran a hand through his hair.

“y/n, go to your room and I’ll bring you a little something to eat before you take your meds, hm?”

“Okay.” You quietly agreed and walked into your room.

“So, what’d the doctor say?” Asked Lucy.

“Double ear infection, bit of a hearing loss in one ear but it’ll go away once the meds take effect.”

“That’s good. Do you want me to just keep an eye on her too so you can go to work? I know how much you hate missing work.”

Olivia chuckles, “Ah, I think a bit of time off would do me some good. I already told my squad I won’t be going in today.”

Lucy nodded.

“Yeah, so you can go if you want.” Olivia says.

“No, it’s okay. My day’s free. It’ll probably be better if I stay for a little longer, at least. Seeing that you probably need to take care of y/n.”

“Thank you.” Olivia smiled lightly, proceeding to go boil some water in the electric kettle in order to make you some oatmeal. She slathers a couple tablespoons of peanut butter onto the top of the oatmeal before bringing it to you on a tray, along with a cup of water.

The worst symptom was the unpredictable, sudden stabbing pains that you’d get that will literally bring tears to your eyes. “Okay, I need the painkillers.” You told your mother decisively.

“I’ll bring it for you now. But here’s some oatmeal so the meds won’t hurt your stomach, okay?”

“Thanks, Mom.”

Flashing you a smile, she leaves the room to retrieve your medications from the dining table. You fought through the ache and ate a few spoonful of the goop, though you actually really liked it…despite how unpleasant it may look. Your Mom knew exactly what you liked to eat and how you liked it.

“Here, take this for the pain and fever first. Eat a bit more oatmeal then take one of these antibiotics pills, okay?” She took them out for you, then she just sits there with you. You nodded wordlessly and just did as she told you to.

“Take the antibiotic pill with the oatmeal, honey.” She suggested- no, reminded you. “I know it’s hard for you to do it, but please?”

You whined.

“You need to take it, baby.” She cups your cheek, stroking it with her thumb, “Otherwise the pain will just get worse and we don’t want that.”

You held your breath and put the pill in your mouth, swiftly chasing it with a spoonful of oatmeal. You swallowed the whole mouthful before the chalky medicine could dissolve too much.

“That’s my girl.” Olivia smiled of relief, “Okay, you still want the oatmeal?”

“No, thanks.”

“Alright, I’ll take of that. You get some rest.”

————

When evening comes around, you were still asleep. You fell asleep a good four hours ago and only got woken up when you heard a new voice. Wait- it was one you recognised. Fin’s

“She’s in her room. Asleep.” You heard your Mom tell him.

“It’s okay, I just wanted to drop this off. Got her a little something to cheer her up.”

You groggily sat up in your bed then stood up, dragging yourself on your feet to the bathroom. Randomly shivering, now that you were away from the warmth of your sheets and blanket. You hurriedly washed your face with the cleanser to rid it of the greasy feeling. When you made your way out to the living room, he was still there, playing with Noah.

“Oh, you’re up.” Olivia realises.

“Yup.” You forced a smile.

“Hey.” Fin greeted you.

“Hi Fin. Thanks for the uh…thing you got me.” You said.

“No problem. It’s just a little something.” He shrugs.

“Mom, where- where’s my water bottle? I can’t find it. I thought I had it in my room.”

“Ah, I just washed and refilled it for you. It’s in the fridge.” Olivia recalls. While you drank some of that cold water to hydrate, Fin was chatting with your Mom- Telling her she didn’t have to worry about work. But you all knew her and knew that as much as she was a loving mother, she also loved her job and would be working all day if life allowed her to.

“Just go back to work tomorrow.” You pretty sure you slurred.

The adults glanced at you, slightly amused. “You heard her.” Fin says.

“Are you sure?” Oliva asks.

“I’ll just be clingy tonight, then I’m pretty sure I’ll feel a bit better tomorrow- better enough to not be clingy.” You shrugged, sitting at the table, gripping onto your cold, olive coloured Nalgene with both hands. Noah laughs. You did too.

Your gaze falls on the box of chocolate on the table in front of you. Your fingers reached out to peel off the clear plastic wrap. “Ooh, can I have one? Please, sissy?”

“Sure, Noah.” You cleared your throat, chuckling. “Here, pick one.”

“Yay!” He cheered, jumping off the couch and running over to you to take a look at the selection.

“Fin, you really shouldn’t have.” Olivia says.

“Can’t stop me. Or Carisi and Rollins who are on their way with dinner.” He shrugs.

“Oh, my God.” Liv inhales. “You can’t be serious.”

“Do I look like I wanna mess with you right now?” He squinted, “Look, I got one grandkid, the squad’s kids are like my own, too. Just let me spoil ‘em once in awhile.”

“Once in awhile? You get her a box of chocolates and some chips every month.”

Fin laughs, “We all need a little treat.”

As if on cue, there was a string of knocks on the door, making you jump and seethe in pain. Noah looks at you worriedly for a moment. “I’m okay, bubs. Just my ears being a little sore.”

He nodded, quickly more interested in the box of chocolates once again. Liv got up to answer the door, giving you a squeeze on the shoulder when she walked by you.

“Sorry, I should’ve given them the heads up to not knock.” Fin said.

“It’s- it’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

————

Unexpectedly, your stomach felt heavy after dinner. Like it just did not feel right. But, everyone else seemed right as rain. You deduced that it must’ve been a side effect of the antibiotics. By then, Fin and Carisi had left, Noah was sitting with Olivia and Amanda when you got up from your seat on the couch, leaving Amanda alone chatting with your Mom. You quietly retreated to your bedroom, and sat on your bed, wishing for the sickening feeling to pass.

You hear the creaking of your door, causing you to look up. Amanda leans on the doorframe asking if you were okay. “Uh, not really?”

“Do you need me to get your mom?”

“I don’t- think so. Just the antibiotics making me feel a little, ugh.” You took in a sharp breath, then a sip of water- slowly. “Oh, God.” You jerked, scrambling to your bathroom. A very worried Amanda trails after you. The little bit of food you had for dinner spills out from your mouth, leaving an extremely uncomfortable burning sensation in your throat. You felt a hand on your back, and the blonde’s voice assuring you at you were okay. Seconds later, another voice- your Mom’s.

“She’s alright. The antibiotics upset her stomach.” Amanda says. “You ready to get back into bed?”

You nodded, “I want to- uh, rinse my mouth.”

“Okay, easy, easy. You got it.” Amanda held onto you while you hear your Mom fluffing your pillows then she leaves, and returns. You hear the sound of a plastic trash can hit your floor.

Amanda helps you back into bed, your Mom pulls the blanket up to cover you properly. “Thanks.” You smiled, now feeling a tad embarrassed about what’d just happened.

“Don’t mention it,” The blonde smiled, “Feel better soon, hun. I’m gonna get goin’, Liv. I’ll see you back at work soon,”

“Alright. Good night, Amanda.”

You watched her leave, then your gaze pans over to your Mom. “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine- go back to work tomorrow.”

“Okay, okay.” Olivia agrees, “I’m gonna leave your door open, so if anything- I can probably hear you better, alright?”

“Alright.” You shrugged.

She presses a kiss to the crown of your head,“Good night, sweet girl.”

[corpsebasil]

Spidey -> Ethan Landry Parte Uno

In which the web slinging superhero is closer than you think.

(Sorry I just LOVE this idea I can’t)

You groaned as you entered your apartment, dropping your cheer bag on the counter as you moved into the kitchen. It’d a long day at school—longer than normal—and you were exhausted. So you kicked off your cheer shoes and pulled your headache-inducing ponytail free, running your hands through your hair to massage your scalp.

Tara texted, making sure you got home, and you replied quickly.

Tare Bear 💜

Tara: hey girl, make it?

Y/N: yeah. about to eat another boring salad.

Tara: couch was on our ass today, what the hell? apparently she said we all need to lose five pounds before the game in two weeks

Y/N: I’m already swamped with homework wtf

Y/N: gym in the morning?

Tara: yeah, I’ll pick you up at five

You turned off your phone and grumbled to yourself, making your way towards your room. The siren song of ranch was loud but, if coach was serious, you’d do the boring alternative of a little bit of olive oil and lemon juice. As you made it into your room you yelped as a fist hit the window, knocking aggressively.

“What the hell…” you mumbled, opening up your window to glare at Spider-Man. “I was just about to drown my sorrows with a gallon of water. What do you want?”

“I sprained my wrist.” The spandex-wearing hero explained, already sneaking into your bedroom as you gave him space. “Help me out, doc?”

“Cant you go to a real doctor?” You asked, rolling your eyes as you moved to your dresser where you kept your medical supplies. As a third year med student, and a good keeper of secrets, you’d been tending to Spider-Man’s various injuries since freshmen year.

“But you’re so much nicer. And no, I cant.”

“What about Stark?” You asked, fishing out a bottle of Advil. “Doesn’t he have some sort of fancy doctor to help out Avengers?” You wiggled your eyebrows, glancing over as Spider-Man plopped onto your bed.

“Not an Avenger.” He mumbled, rolling his wrist around. You couldn’t see his face—had never seen it—but you were sure he was wincing. “Hey, nice uniform. Had fun with your pompons?”

“Yeah I know you like my uniform.” You scoffed, moving over. It was true, your short skirt and tight top did wonders for your figure. “Wish coach liked it. She’s saying we all need to lose five pounds before the game.”

“But you—I mean, you look great you—I mean your body is..” he trailed off, embarrassed, and your smile turned feline. “I just mean you look good. And stuff.”

“How sweet.” You laughed lightly, passing him the Advil. “I’ll get you some ice. You can take the meds while Im in the kitchen.”

You left the room, moving to grab your ice pack as you worked. It was strange, honestly. He’d been seeing you for a while now, your interactions friendly if not a bit flirtatious, but you still didn’t know anything about him. And weirdly enough, you wanted to. It wasn’t that you liked him or anything, but…

You went back to the bedroom, covering your eyes comically as you pretended to feel around.

“Covered up, Spidey?” You asked, fighting back a laugh when his chuckle filled the space between you.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

You uncovered your eyes and moved forward, offering the ice-pack. When he took it, his covered fingers met your own, the smooth fabric of the suit cool against your skin. You fought a suddenly sharp inhale and backed up, gesturing to the window.

“Well, um. Goodnight.” You said, smiling a tad bit awkwardly. “Gotta go make myself a pile of lettuce. See you around.”

“Wait—” he stood up suddenly and you blinked. “I mean—want to…do something? Like watch a movie or—?”

“Spidey.” You laughed, raising an eyebrow. “Superhero,” you started, pointing to him. “civilian.” You added, pointing to yourself. “Isn’t that like..against protocol?”

“No one’s gonna know.” He protested, moving a step forward. “Come on, aren’t we friends, Y/N?”

You stared, looking at his towering, muscular form. And you suddenly felt a twinge of disappointment. Or was it longing?

“I’m just your free medic.” You said, turning your back to him. “See you later!”

It was quiet for a moment so you glanced over your shoulder.

He was gone.

-

You were stretching when Ethan, Chad’s roommate and your nerdy friend, jogged up to you. He looked slightly sweaty and out of breath, like he’d run all the way from his late night Econ class to meet you at the football field. You raised your brows, wiping the dirt off your skirt as you stood, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

“Hey, E.” You greeted, scanning him up and down with your eyes. He’d agreed to drive you home after practice, claiming it was too dangerous to walk alone. Chad had already taken Tara home, so you were stuck with Ethan. “Run all the way here? Getting your laps in?”

“Yeah. I mean—no. Not all the way.”

“Sure you didn’t.” You laughed, looping your arm through his as you walked off the field, leading him towards the parking lot. “My valiant rescuer. What will I ever do to thank you?”

“Wanna get food?” He asked, raising his brows. “We can study for the test while we wait.”

“Yeah I—” you frowned. “I cant. Sorry. Sticking to salads and protein shakes right now, E.”

“Come on. You’re gorgeous. You’re coach is an idiot.” He told you, not really realizing what he’d said, but your brows knit.

“Did Tara tell you?” You asked, confused, and his cheeks reddened.

“Yeah I mean. Chad was talking about it. Saying Tara was pissed.”

“Rightfully so. We’re skinny enough as it is.” You complained, frowning as you made your way to his car. Then you paused, smiling a bit wickedly. “You think I’m gorgeous?”

Ethan was flustered, but smiled shyly as he opened the passenger door for you.

“Obviously.” He mumbled, brown eyes on yours, and you grinned.

“Awww, E.” You cooed, reaching up to pinch his cheek before you climbed into the car.

Later, clad in an oversized shirt, you sat next to Ethan on the couch, laughing. He was gagging dramatically, his own shake in front of him half-drank before he’d requested a sip of your own. Yours was with water, instead of milk, and was the vegan protein powder you kept in your pantry. He’d allowed you to convince him to drink a chocolate whey, not wanting to order the burger he’d wanted and have you suffer alone.

“God this is awful.” He griped, and you laughed loudly at his twisted up expression. “God how do you drink this?”

“Anything for cheer.” You giggled, and he rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, you and your pompoms.” He mumbled, and you poked him in the side.

“You like my pompoms.”

“You know I do.” He shot back, turning to look at you, and your heart stuttered. Then he glanced away, looking a bit nervous, before looking back. “I like you, Y/N.” He admitted, and you raised a brow, even as you blushed.

“I should hope so. We’re friends, after all.”

“I mean more.” He added, looking away awkwardly at your silence. “It’s fine if you don’t.”

But his breathing hitched a fraction when you took his face in your hand and made him look at you, scanning those gorgeous eyes of his for any hint of reluctance. When there was none you leaned forward, your own heart rate increasing as you pressed your mouth softly against his.

Okay, it was hardly a kiss. Only so much so that you could acknowledge the graze of his mouth against your own—could feel the curve and slope of his lips. But then he was jumping, yanking away, as one of the loudest ringtones you’d ever heard went off.

Even you startled, and you began to laugh before seeing the panicked look on his face.

“E? You okay—?”

“I gotta go. I’m sorry!” He said, expression hardening as he bolted to his feet and practically tore out of your apartment.

So you sat there feeling slightly dumb, your lips still tingling from the kiss.

-

Later, hours later, you were bored, watching Tombraider for the billionth time on your laptop.

Tare Bear 💜

Y/N: I kissed Ethan

Y/N: well, kind of

Tara: WHAT

Y/N: we were having fun and then I kissed him and he just left ??? Like did I do something wrong ??

Tara: you’re the hottest girl in school . Maybe he just panicked ??

You began typing again but froze when you heard the familiar knocks at your window, and you sighed loudly. You moved over and opened it up, giving Spider-Man a weighted stare.

“Not now, Web Boy. I’m going through a crisis.”

“I got cut!” He protested, grabbing the window with insane strength to stop you from pushing it down. “Come on, Y/N.”

You stared at those eyes, those white eyes of the mask, and rolled your own.

“Fine. Fine. I’m getting a glass of wine, want anything?”

“No thanks.” The hero said brightly, crawling inside when you moved away. You got your glass of wine before coming back and scoffing, staring at the cut he was so worried about.

“That is a paper-cut, Spidey. A paper cut.”

“What if it’s infected?” He asked, pouting, and you folded.

“Jesus, you’re going to be the death of me.” You grumbled, taking a large gulp before moving to your dresser to get anti-biotic salve and a bandaid. He’d taken the glove off on his right hand and was flexing his fingers over and over. “Speaking of death, I’m going to kill a boy. Maybe you could turn a blind eye from your hero shit and let me get away with it.”

“What?” He asked, voice cautious as you moved closer. “What…boy?”

“This guy he—“ you paused, sighing dramatically. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this. Give me your hand.”

“Wait, I wanna know.” He protested, holding his hand up high out of reach. The man was tall, for Christ’s sake.

“Seriously? Is this what we do now? Gossip about our love lives?” You smirked, fighting down the desire to tell him. You’d known him for a long time, now. Surely it wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen. “Are we braiding each other’s hair next? Pillow fighting?”

“We can pillow fight but I might take your eye out by accident.” When you opened your mouth to argue he pushed his hand down into your own, and the sudden warmth and smoothness of his skin startled you. “Tell me about this guy. Maybe I can help.”

You stared at him for a moment, your cheeks flushing a bit as you glanced down at the hand in your own. Your thumb grazed his knuckles involuntarily before you blinked, clearing your head and turning his fingers up so you could see them.

“Well..” you started, cleaning his finger off with a wet rag as you spoke. Truly he was such a baby. He used to only come to you for big things and now you were treating paper-cuts? “He’s kind of dorky, but I like that. He treats me like a human being and not just a piece of ass like a lot of frat guys do to cheerleaders.” You continued, wiping on some salve. “But…tonight I..” you swallowed, blinking down at his hand as you opened up a bandaid and smoothed it down. “I think I fucked up.”

“How?” Spider-Man asked, and he sounded slightly out of breath. You looked up at his face.

“I kissed him. Sort of. And then he just ran like—he literally could not get out of here fast enough.”

“Maybe he had to go somewhere?” Spidey offered, and didn’t let your hand go when you moved to set his free. “I don’t know I just think any guy would be stupid to run away from you.”

“Sure you do.”

“I do. Why do you think I keep coming back?”

You stared down at him, at the superhero you’d been tending to for so long, and something in you shifted. You moved towards him, your knees brushing his own where he sat on your bed. Your eyes were soft and filled with…Spider-Man didn’t know….but you looked so pretty and he…

“Is that why you come?” You asked, biting your bottom lip. “Because you…”

You reached out, touching his arm carefully, well aware the physical boundaries between you had never been crossed like this. And when you set your hands on his shoulders, he didn’t protest. If anything he leaned into your touch, both of your breaths catching when you braved going further and climbed onto his lap, settling yourself against him.

The latex was surprisingly smooth and warm against your bare legs, his hands immediately finding your waist to hold you still.

“Y/N.” He breathed, masked face so close to your own. “You know why I come back.” He said, and you could’ve sworn your heart skipped a beat. “I come back for you.”

You smiled softly at that, your hands sliding up his neck. But when your thumbs hooked under his mask and began to cautiously slide it up, he grabbed onto your wrists. You shot him a questioning look.

“Not—not yet.” He told you, and you frowned. You must’ve been losing your damn touch, because—

But then he was moving closer, hands finding your neck as his masked-mouth met yours, the foreign sensation strange but not at all unenjoyable. You could feel the shape of him, feel his warmth pressed against you, and it felt…familiar. Right. You made a soft noise and he gripped your hips tighter, your eyes pulling back to meet his.

“I wanna kiss you for real.” You murmured, running a thumb over his lips through the suit, and he shook his head.

“Not yet. Please. Give me time.”

You nodded, allowing him to slip his arms around your waist as he pulled you into him, your head resting in the crook of his neck as he breathed. You could’ve sworn he mumbled something but you ignored it, too busy allowing the masked hero to press your entire body against his.

Afterwards, what felt like minutes, he ran a hand through your hair and pulled you away.

“I have to go.” He said, sounded regretful. “I’ll see you again soon. I promise.”

“Okay.” You whispered, wishing you could see even a glimpse of his face, but understanding. “Okay. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” He repeated as you moved off him, but not before planting one last kiss against your head. He dove out the window and swung off into the night, doing an elaborate flip you knew he thought would impress you.

It did.

HELLLOOOO WHATBDONYOU GUYS THINK?

[quiram]

Guess who is finally having self control :33

I'm barely in the 24th hour of f4st (I'm trying to f4st as many days as possible) and I already feel like I'm going to faint when I stand up LMAO my body can't stand anything, rookie (got too unaccustomed since my b1ng3 34t1ng started in my forced recovery lol)

Day 1: 11/08

The 15 come from 3g of instant coffee (11), a zero coke (1), and from a green tea (3) hehe :3

Day 2: 11/09

Update of my fast! Today I felt super dizzy, wanting to v0mit and headaches, but now I feel a little better lolol, and didn’t got caught

My hands are shaking

The 2 come from a pepsi kick (I'm using the same example of zero coke macros lol) :3

Day 3: 11/10

Omg I feel especially annoyed today, my friends and classmates don't stop messaging me to pass them info about hw and projects or any other shi, they give me a strong headache fr

And I lost 1.6kg!

-zero sugar apple soda (3)

-chamomile tea (2)

Day 4: 11/11

At first my impulses to eat were strong, but I looked in the mirror and ironically my hunger went away LMAO, AND ALMOST 100HR!!

- 3 gums (10) weighted in micrograms :3

- 2 bottles of zero coke (2)

Day 5: 11/12

I was going to take my meds but I feel like I'm going to get nauseous and I don't even have the energy to do it lmao

- 2 gums (7)

- apple soda zero sugar (2)

[kiiwiigii]

Night-Time Reading

Alec x Fem!Reader

Summary: You are having a rough day managing your POTS/CFS. All you want to do is relax and Alec is there to help.

Warnings:

Fluff! Nothing but tooth rotting fluff.

Word Count: 400+

Requested?: Yes!

So I'm going through a really rough time, I'm disabled (pots and CFS) and my cfs is acting up badly cause school started and I've been so busy I haven't had a break period, constantly walking and running and being busy. now I have a three day weekend so my body is letting myself feel the consequences of pushing myself too far, so I was wondering if I could suggest some comfort? Alec with a mate that either has cfs or just has some symptoms and just him keeping them as comfortable as possible while they're in pain Common symptoms (including the ones I'm going through) - joint pain (I can barely go up stairs and walk -extreme temp fluctuations (really hot to really cold quickly) -brain fog (brain is foggy. I'm too weak to open a bottle of coke so I left it open and while talking I tipped it over and forgot it was open) -migraines/headaches -sore throat -trembling -really tired but can't fall asleep and/or sleeps for a really long time Thank you for listening 🫶🏼 -🦊

A/N: Hey nonny! I am so, so sorry it has taken me this long to write this. Honestly, I was (and still am I suppose) intimidated to write this, simply because these illnesses are not something I am not even remotely familiar with. But I also want to thank you because it's a good writing exercise for me. I'm also sorry that you're having such a rough time. I can't even imagine. So here's a fic, just for you, darling. I hope you're feeling better.

Another A/N: So the wonderful and amazing @alecvolturi did an amazing edit of Alec reading the first bit of The Hobbit. Please give it a listen as you read. It's PERFECT.

Miserable.

I was fucking miserable.

It began just by sitting up. I could feel the migraine building, and I was already in the throws of a hot flash. It didn't help that the pain in my joints was flaring up again.

It was 3 a.m. and I was already this close to crying. I couldn't remember the last time that I had a proper nights sleep. I just wanted one day, one day where I didn't have to be in pain or worry that any movement I made would set off a whole other series of symptoms, all of which almost all of them were painful.

"Darling?" Alec was next to me, his cold hands running over my heated skin, trailing goosebumps behind in his wake.

His hands were a sweet, cool balm on my flushed skin. It gave me a little relief. I leaned into him, enjoying the cold. His lips pressed to my forehead.

"Scale of 1 to 10?"

"7 to 8." I mumbled.

One would think with how long that I've lived with this disease that I would have a high pain tolerance. That couldn't be further from the truth. I could already feel a few tears slipping from beneath my lashes. I just wanted something to make the pain go away.

I whined as Alec disappeared, only to reappear with my meds and a bottle of water a moment later.

"Here, drink." He handed me the pills and water, and I took them gratefully. He pulled the comforter from the floor where I had kicked it off, bundling it back up on the bed for us to lay down on. He then grabbed my phone, pulling up my favorite playlist, the one he made for me to help me calm down when I felt like shit. The music started flowing through the speaker near my bed at a low volume.

"What book, darling?" His eyes were already scanning my bookshelves.

"Uhm…" I blinked back at him slowly, trying to process what he said.

"How about The Hobbit?"

"Perfect." I rasped with a small smile.

He was next to me again in a flash, his back against the headboard as he pulled me gently to him, a pillow already ready in his lap.

"In the hole in the ground, there lived a Hobbit." His voice lilted over me, and I felt myself begin to relax as his hands gently ran through my hair and along my neck.

The fine mist that signaled the use of his gift began to unfurl from his fingers and I felt myself begin to numb. The first time he had done this it had been disconcerting, but now I welcomed it with relish. A small reprieve from the pain. I smiled to myself, letting my eyes slip closed as I listened.

Then finally, sleep came for me.

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