#so they can get covered by my insurance cause i think if i can breath at like even 80% capacity my life would immensly change

[this-doesnt-endd]

I feel like my crown just shifted up oh my god

[koqabear]

hiii this is for the 2k event, i wanted to ask if u write hybrid!au cause yeonjun dressing up as nick wilde has got me feeling a little delusional. if u don’t completely ignore this but if u do, can i request fox yj and maybe bunny reader?

[2K Masterlist]

"Yeonjun is adamant that you’re a pretty, porcelain doll. You’re more than ready to shatter that idea and show him that you’re stronger than he thinks."

fox hybrid! yeonjun x bunny hybrid! reader // wc: 1.9K // genre: hybrid au, pwp. this is just straight filth im sorry. MDNI.

warnings dom!yeonjun, sub!mc, somnophilia (consensual), oral (f rec.) pet names (bunny, good girl), degrading, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, degrading, kitchen sex, manhandling, dacryphilia, begging, scratching, possessiveness, unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampies, aftercare kinda, girl idk i literally just dissociated when i wrote this i forget how exhausting this all is!!

Notes: the healthcare system is fucked even in fanfiction, you can’t escape. 

Every decision you’ve made throughout your relationship with Yeonjun has led to where you are now:

Face down, ass up, tears in your eyes and words muddled through the drool that spills through your lips. 

You’ve told him countless times that you’re not fragile; that the sweet, docile image he has of bunny hybrids is nothing but a sham, and that you can take anything he offers with a confident stride— and though he simply laughed in endearment and shook his head at your claims, you insisted. You insisted throughout all the sugary sweet times he made love to you, during all the moments where you felt his hands hesitate to hold you, as though he was afraid that putting pressure on your body would be enough to make you shatter. 

The words were tiring to both his and your ears at some point: the petulant whines asking for more, your pathetic attempts to try and take control and change the pace entirely— Yeonjun’s sharp, narrowed eyes that flickered at you in warning was the harshest thing you received from him— but judging by the shivers that flowed down your spine like water, your fluffy tail twitching in attention, you knew that your body only craved for more and your brain wouldn’t settle down until you got your way.

You could say that he warned you. He really did, technically, sitting you down for a serious talk about something you two never really discussed in detail. You watched with wide, slightly confused eyes as he explained to you that his heat was approaching, and that you definitely shouldn’t be around for it— when you perked up to interrupt, he merely shook his head to shut you down and continue his explanation. 

“I usually take medication, but my insurance no longer covers my usual prescription.” he told you, his ginger ears twitching in annoyance from the mere memory, “I’m taking a leave from work for it, and… I want to spend this time alone.”

“It gets intense… I don’t want to hurt you.”

A bruised ego and terribly confrontational personality was truly a god awful combination. Though you suppose it helped you for the better, considering that after a good argument with your ever-so loving and doting boyfriend, he finally gave up. 

You can remember the sight so vividly; his ruffled hair, the fluffy tail that whipped from side to side as he finally slumped back against the couch, out of breath and exhausted— his ears pinned against his head in defeat the moment he took a good look at you, in all your still fired up and energetic glory. 

He knew it was a losing battle the moment you cocked a challenging brow at him, as though begging for him to continue.

The word okay has never sounded better from your boyfriend's mouth. 

••••

That all leads you back to today. It’s been— oh, you really can’t remember. A day? Maybe two? You don’t think it matters at this point, since the only thing that fills your mind now is the feeling of being full, stuffed, and warm. 

Yeonjun gave you a chance to back out the second he opened the door for you. He spoke to you calmly, softly, nervously, watching you hop around his living room and throw your overnight bag on his couch, overjoyed to be taking such a monumental step forward in your relationship. You dismissed every slow, anxious sway of his tail as you ate dinner together, listening intently as he told you about how he’s gotten with his previous partners. 

It was too much for many of them. He gets aggressive. He gets insanely needy, it goes on for hours, even throughout the night. 

You prayed that he didn’t notice the pathetic clench of your thighs and slight arousal as he told you about his details, nodding sweetly when he asked if you were okay with doing the things he mentioned. 

You established a safeword, coddled him the moment you noticed his temperature beginning to rise, and gave him a gentle kiss on the forehead as you murmured your goodnights. 

About six hours passed when you first felt it; you’ve always been a light sleeper, so you were doomed the second your sensitive ears picked up on the sound of restless rustling behind you. You tried your best to ignore it, your drowsy mind eager to go back to sleep, but the white noise of sheets moving around was quickly accompanied by something else— breathy, desperate gasps.

“Bunny…” Yeonjun’s raspy whine was enough to have your ear twitching slightly; more rustling, and suddenly, a scorching heat hovers behind you. “Bunny, need… need you s’bad…”

His hands are heavy on your skin, almost scorching with the way he restlessly makes his way up your shirt, groping at your tits before they slide down your stomach, feeling you up all the way down before they stop at your thighs— without warning, he presses flat against you, a hand snaking beneath your body to wrap around your stomach and pull you flush into him. He was so hard, so needy that the very feeling of your soft ass pressing against him was enough to rip out a broken sob from him.

“Let me fuck you,” he murmured against the shell of your ear, words that slurred together showing that he was also half-awake, probably not too aware of his actions and the way he rutted into you helplessly, “C’mon bunny, lemme use you.” 

Your ass that pressed back into him and the sleepy whine that left you was enough for him.

You can only remember drifting in and out of consciousness that night; the sloppy, wet sounds of skin against skin and desperate grunts was nothing but white noise to you at that point— Yeonjun was glued to you for hours on end, fat cock thrusting harshly into your poor, abused cunt, filled with so much cum that it could only smear onto your inner thighs and his balls, leaving a mess you wouldn’t be able to clean anytime soon. 

When you woke up, you were on your back— your pussy was sore and a whine bubbled up uncontrollably from your throat, hips canting up and against Yeonjun’s face— your hands were shaky as you fisted the sheets, tears pricking your eyes as you listened to Yeonjun’s sweet nothings against your skin, leaving bites and kisses against your thighs as he promised you that he’d be quick, that he just needed to eat your sweet cunt— you’d get cleaned up nicely after. 

Yeonjun was a liar, of course— because none of his sweet promises included his burning desire to fuck you after you came, cleaning you up only to push his cock back in and fuck you right into the mattress; legs pressed against your stomach, wails leaving you as he plunged into you with abandon, frantic hands scratching down his back as you cried from the overstimulation— it only ended with him pressing deeply into you and emptying yet another load into your tired cunt. 

The semblance of normalcy that followed after didn’t last very long, either— yeah, getting carried to the shower and having him clean you up and scrub you down was nice, and sitting at the counter as you watched him make a quick breakfast was nice too, a heartwarming glimpse into a domestic future with him— but you were only able to get halfway through your meal before Yeonjun decided that he’d much rather bend you over the kitchen counter and have you there instead— moaning wantonly as he watched your trembling legs fail to keep up, buckling under his pace and forcing him to hold you up with his insane strength— and just when you thought he was getting tired, he simply flipped you on your back and laid you on the counter instead; he always did think you looked really pretty when you were totally fucked out, anyway. 

Maybe that’s when hours started blending together— he was sweet and caring when he needed to be, cleaning you up with a feather-like touch and kisses that warmed your heart— only to give you the whiplash of the century when his pupils dilated and the only thing he honed in on was you. 

You. You you you. 

His ears would press against his head and his tail would flicker dangerously, narrowed, focused eyes meeting your bleary ones with ease; you could only sit there and let him maneuver you however he liked, shivering and falling limp with each time he’d slide his cock into you, as though you finally felt complete. 

You looked so breathtaking to him— under him, over him, whatever position he suddenly found himself needing you in— teary eyes and swollen lips calling his name like a mantra, a prayer, a plea for him to use your body until he got his fill.

There was something so addicting about the way you trembled from the overstimulation, sobbing and writhing yet never saying your safe word. It had Yeonjun fascinated, the guilty part of his mind berating him for trying to see how far he could take things— yet, no matter what he did or what he said, you only seemed to beg for more, like you’d been waiting for this moment for ages.

“Take it, T-take it like a good toy,” Yeonjun hissed, fingers digging into your hips as his cock battered into you ruthlessly. You merely cried and moaned, cotton tail wiggling with every drag against your walls, the soft fur coated with dried cum, “said you could handle it, right? Stupid fucking bunny— nothing but a cumdump for me, hmm?”

Your squeals and chants of yes! Yes yes yes! only spur Yeonjun on even more— his body feels as though it’s on fire, bright hair sticking to his sweaty skin as he merely pushes himself further— you can practically feel his back hover over your own, able to tell that he’s close from his faltering pace and shaky breaths that fan across your skin. 

“Want me to breed you?” he asks, though there’s no need to ask anymore if the previous loads he’s dumped into you are any indication of your answer. Yet he still does, almost like instinct; it’s much more satisfying to hear you beg for it, anyway. 

And you do— your begging is so cute, how could he ever resist? Yeonjun’s nails might break your skin with how tightly he’s holding you, teeth digging into his pouty lip as he pumps himself into you, once, twice, then empties out everything he has to offer— your back arches and your hips move back to try and glue yourself to him, crying out his name in satisfaction as he fills you for the nth time of the night. 

The way you keen out, the sight of your ears that are pinned to your head along with your tail that shivers with satisfaction is like drugs to him; he’s hopelessly addicted to you, to all of you, from your stuffed cunt that continues to suck him in to your soft voice that whimpers out at every sensation you offer him.

Such a good girl, Yeonjun thinks to himself, butterfly kisses spanning along your sweaty skin, your barely conscious form curling into him for more, how did he get so lucky?

Even after he’s given you a moment to rest, laying down with you on top of him, you still cling onto him, sighing in content as you allow him to cockwarm you, already bracing yourself for the moment he feels himself needing you again. And as you both drift into a much needed nap, Yeonjun can only find himself thinking one thing. 

Thank god for you and your argumentative nature.

[jezabelle9299]

Broken Lungs S.R x FEM!Reader

CWs- Spoilers for season 5, depictions of asthma and use of a nebulizer, mentions of gunshot wounds, and health insurance not covering necessary medication.

Quick Infodump- Oxygen saturation levels should be 95-100%, lower than 93% should seek immediate help from a healthcare professional, and lower than 85% can cause severe damage to the brain because of a lack of oxygen.

Overture: Spencer is recovering from the knee surgery he needed after being shot in the field, when he sees a familiar face in the hospital being treated for an asthma attack.

A/N- This is based on my own experience with asthma, but it's different for everyone, so the relatability may vary with this one. But I was stuck at home all day because of an air quality alert so I did this instead of getting ready for the semester that starts in two weeks.

After one of his worst days in the field, Spencer ended the day in a hospital bed unable to walk. Hotch had been stabbed, and he had been shot. Both would be ok, and they were in separate hospitals to recover. The team alternated who would come to visit, and when. It usually took until the nurses kicked them out at the end of visiting hours, for them to actually leave. 

It’d been 2 days since his surgery, and the nurses had given him permission to walk around with his brace, on crutches. He’d never used them before, so he walked around the floor to the nurses’ station to get some more jell-o, and then around the hall back to his room. He allowed his curiosity (or nosiness) to get the better of him, occasionally glancing in at the people with their doors open, giving them a small smile or wave. Until he saw a familiar face. 

You’d worked for the FBI for a few years, working on the same floor as the BAU, but you weren’t in the field. You were sitting up in a hospital bed, playing solitaire in one hand, holding what looked like an oxygen mask to your face with the other. You looked up when you felt his eyes on you, and there he was, trapped in the doorway. You’d think you were hallucinating if not for the brace on his knee, and the crutches he was propping himself up on. He didn’t move from the threshold until you gave him a small wave, jumpstarting his movement into your room. 

You’d heard about Hotch’s incident, but you weren’t in the office yesterday, and since Spencer’s injury happened later in the day, you had no idea why he was here. You pulled the mask spraying (terrible tasting) medicine into your lungs from your face. You could stop for 30 seconds to see what he was here for. 

“Hey Spencer, what–um, what brings you here?” He hesitated, because you’d know since the 5th floor of the FBI building was the most gossip-ridden place he’d seen since high school. Yet he had no idea you’d be here. It’s not even as if you never talked, whenever he was in the office he’d stop by your desk to talk to you. He figured that you hadn’t gotten tired of him yet because he was gone a lot, although in reality you’d never tire of hearing his voice.

“I got shot in the knee, I’ll be fine, the real question is why are you here?” You’re sure it’s on government record, something Garcia could find in two minutes if she looked, but you still didn’t like talking about it. You knew it was stupid to be embarrassed of it, but you couldn’t help it. Every time it got brought up, you felt like the dorky character in a movie carting around their inhaler all the time, the butt of some cosmic joke. 

You preferred to think of it as an inconvenience more than anything. It didn’t come up often because you weren’t in the field, and when you needed to use an inhaler, you measured your breathing long enough to get to an empty bathroom or supply closet. You’d just blame the jitters that came after on too much coffee, and no one would ask any questions. This time, the inhaler wasn’t working, the next step in medication, a small machine similar to what you were supposed to be hooked up to now, wasn’t working either. So you drove to the ER feeling like you’d just run 10 miles, and they were making you stay 36 hours to give you stronger medication in intervals. 

“No reason.” You didn’t know why you even bothered with that response. Neither did Spencer, tossing you an apathetic look. He knew how squeamish you got when attention was drawn to something that made you look vulnerable, which is why he let it slide every time you walked into a supply closet looking flushed and panicked, with a soundtrack accompanying every time you took a breath, only to come out 5 minutes later with no supplies. 

 “Ok, really? Why would you even try it, you’re hooked up to a nebulizer and your oxygen saturation is at 90. What happened?” He was using the tone he only ever broke out for interrogations and proving Morgan wrong, but you still wanted to minimize the attention drawn to this not so glamorous piece of your life. You wanted Spencer to see you as someone he could date, even someone he could love, so this was not ideal to the image you’d been trying to show at work. 

“I have gross broken lungs. It’s really no big deal.” He laughed, but there was minimal humor behind it. Like he couldn’t even fathom you thinking this was ‘no big deal’. 

“I would venture to say you being in the hospital because you were unable to breathe is a very big deal.” While you loved when Spencer got a little bit cocky, you decided it would be more fun to make the little vein in his forehead appear again. So you tossed a vague shrug.

“Well I’d say getting shot is a much bigger deal. So why don’t you sit down, eat your jello, and tell me what happened to you, while I finish this thing.” He couldn’t argue with that, because at the very least he wanted you to feel better and the medicine currently going to waste while you were talking was the only way to accomplish that, so he relented. 

He didn’t want to move your things to the floor, but they were occupying the only chair in the room, so he made himself comfortable at the foot of your bed. He always wanted to be closer to you anyway. Setting his crutches next to him and opening the small cup of jello he’d somehow been holding this whole time, he reiterated his answer from before. 

“I told you already, I got shot in the knee, went into surgery, and now other than having to use these crutches for a while, I’m fine. Just need to spend a little longer in recovery before I can go back home to minimize the risk of infection.” He took a bite of jell-o just as a show of finality, like there was nothing more to say. Like a gunshot wound was not a huge deal. 

The whirr of the machine started to slow down, the medicine sputtering instead of coming out in a steady steam, meaning you could finally be done. You set it on the table by the bed, right next to your abandoned game of solitaire, and as soon as you set it down Spencer’s attention was back on your wellbeing. 

“Ok your turn, what happened?” 

“I’ve had asthma since I was a kid, and I just got unlucky today. It’s always worse this time of year, and my inhaler wasn’t really doing anything for me. Our health insurance plan doesn’t cover the more expensive meds unless I’m in the hospital, so here I am, for the next 36 hours.” You made a point to turn your exasperated expression into a cheesy smile, hoping to convince him to stay for just a little while longer.  “But the bright side is that since you're here I don’t have to play solitaire anymore. That was getting old fast.” You grabbed the cards, giving them a quick shuffle.

“So what do you say Vegas, are you up for a round of poker?” You hoped that would distract him from fussing over you, and luckily it did. He was satisfied you were ok, and the last thing he wanted was to push you too far, and for you to ask him to leave. So he let the smile take over his face. 

“Always. But i'm not going to go easy on you just because of your- what did you call them- broken lungs?” That got a good laugh out of you. Admittedly wheezy, but still one of the most beautiful sounds in the world to him. 

“Gross, broken lungs. And I wouldn’t dream of it.” You dealt the cards, already knowing you’d lose. You didn’t even know how to play poker. But word around the office was that most of your coworkers wouldn’t play with him since he always won. But you didn’t mind, you mostly just wanted someone to hang out with, and you were overjoyed that person was Spencer. He won, of course. Only gloating a little bit at how badly he beat you, and while you were dealing the second round of cards, you couldn’t help but vocalize what had been in the back of your mind for a few minutes now. 

“Hey Spencer, could I ask you a favor?” He had a mix of worry and willingness to help all over his face. 

“Anything.”

“Could you–not tell anyone in the office? Just. You know how they are, they would make a fuss about the whole hospital thing and it’s just not necessary.” 

“Where do they think you’re going to be for the next day and a half?”

You looked down like a kid who just got caught in a lie. “I kind of told Hotch I had a cold.” Spencer just sighed in response. 

“I really do think you should let them fuss over you. You deserve it, and you know Penelope lives for that sort of thing.” That you couldn’t deny, no matter how much you disagreed with him saying you deserved to be cared for. 

“Please, Spencer?” 

“Alright, but they might walk past your room in the morning. Garcia said she was coming, and you know she’ll drag at least one person along with her.” 

“Noted. I’ll close the door in the morning. Thank you Spencer, seriously, it means a lot.” You put your hand over his and it felt like every thought he’d ever had was gone from his brain at your touch. He couldn’t believe his dumb luck at meeting someone like you. Just to be in your orbit, to see and know you, felt like it could only be accomplished by divine intervention. Selfishly, he wished that you’d be staying a little longer, so that you could both leave together. Even more selfishly, he wished that you would leave with him, and come to his apartment. There he could take care of you, make you feel special until he could finally convince you that you deserved it. Deserved everything. 

You moved your hand to start tapping it on your leg, and while Spencer knew the side effects of respiratory steroids, he couldn’t help the nagging feeling that something was wrong. That maybe he did something wrong. 

“Is there something on your mind?” 

“No, it’s just the jitters. I used to get them so bad when I was a kid, my parents would have to practically hold me down. It’s like I have the energy to run a mile, but I can’t actually do it. I’ll calm down in a bit, but I’m probably going to get really rambly first.” 

“I’d love to listen to you talk, and I love being on the other side of a ramble.” It was just then that a nurse came in to ask if you were feeling better, charting your vials,  reminding you that you need to take your next dose in 4 hours, and telling you that an orderly would be in to set it up then.

Just when she was getting ready to leave she turned her attention to Spencer. “I’m sorry, but I am going to need you to go back to your room Dr. Reid. You both need to get some rest.”

He reluctantly told her that he would and just as soon as he’d come in, he disappeared again. He gave you a wave when he was gathering his crutches, but no real goodbye. You of course waved back, but you couldn’t help but feel disappointed. You really liked him, and you thought maybe he really liked you too. And yet, he only gave you a wave. 

All of the adrenaline moving through you, getting you all worked up finally won out, and stupid as it may sound, tears started to prick the corners of your eyes. Just as you closed the door to your room to get some privacy while you cried, your phone started to ring, and you couldn’t help but think; What now? You answered it without looking, and on the other side of the line was the person you wanted to hear from the most. 

“So what did you want to talk about? I have all the time in the world.”

[hardstrawberrygardener]

HOUSE CALL

Tags: Zayne x reader, fluff, domestic, beginnings of a relationship?

Warnings: mentions of blood, reader gets a wittle hurt

Synopsis: So grocery shopping went a little crazy, nothing a little house call from your primary care physician can't fix.

Author's note: hiyah! First time writing and posting a complete fic, sorry for any mistakes, and uhhhhh Zayne is my pookie, what can I say?

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

The rain had gotten temperamental over the last hour, swinging from drizzle to torrential in a matter of minutes. On any other day this would have lulled you to sleep but the itch of the cuts on your ribs and the flecks of dried blood under your fingernails were a sensory nightmare.

You’d spent the last half hour just catching your breath on your now slightly blood-stained couch, recounting the incident that left you oh so pained and disgruntled.

A wanderer attack in the middle of your grocery shopping disrupted you mid deliberation on which snack to treat yourself to, and in the flurry of dodging claws and diverting the wanderer’s attention from terrified shoppers you slipped on the slick, just-mopped, floors, allowing the monster to graze you with its serrated pincers.

The pain was akin to the worst papercut you’d ever had, times a billion and as wide as a discount banana. It really hurt. And the oncoming migraine was really not ideal. The knocking in your head was becoming louder, too loud. Like, someone actually knocking on your door.

Begrudgingly you push yourself off the couch and walk, or really hobble to your front door; the source of the knocking. A confused peak through the peephole and your stomach drops, cause if there’s one thing worse than getting hurt, it’s your primary care physician catching you getting hurt.

“Hey...” You crack the door open, enough to show your face, which you hope didn’t look as bad as you felt. “I wasn’t expecting you here…”

He’s sporting the usual aloof look, scanning what he can see and deducing that you’re hiding the worst from him.

“Your wound will get infected if you don’t clean it.” Blunt and on the dot. As expected of the infallible Dr. Zayne.

He doesn’t wait for you to respond and pushes the door the rest of the way open. Too exhausted to deny it, you simply step aside and follow him to your kitchen like a little duckling.

He’s already pulled out a first-aid kit, the one he gifted you himself after the last late night house call. You walked in while he was washing his hands and he’s not looking at you when he tells you to sit.

You plant yourself on the closest chair and he brings a bowl filled with water and a rag soaking in it.

“Lift your shirt.”

“Is this covered under my insurance plan?”

“Unfortunately, this is out of your service, you’ll have to pay out of pocket.” He gets on his knees so he's eye level with your wound.

“Gasp! Can I afford this? Doctor, please I hav-” Your monologue was interrupted by a candy he had unwrapped and popped into your mouth. Mhmm strawberry flavored.

“The patient needs to behave.”

Given that he’s still bantering with you, the injury must not look that bad.

Any response you would have had is cut off by the sting and shock of the cold rag he’s gently wiping across your ribs.

Silence fills the air and in the calm it finally hits you.

“Wait, how did you know I got hurt?”

He doesn’t answer at first. Opting instead to search for a gauze and scissors to cut it to size.

“I didn't. It was a lucky guess.”

“Huh?”

“I heard news of a wanderer attack near your place. ”

“That doesn't necessarily mean I'd get hurt?”

His fingers ghost over your skin as he finishes taping the gauze. Your eyes follow the trail of his hands. Large and littered with scars from his time on the field. Hands that have saved so many lives. Lost in your thoughts you almost miss the next thing he says.

“-Take off your clothes.”

“Excuse me?!”

He sighs and gets off his knees, now towering over you. He looks down and you think you see just the smallest hint of amusement on his face, but you blink and it's gone.

“I said,” he pauses and leans in closer, “you're still in your bloody uniform, you need to take off your clothes.”

“Ah.” Your mouth is dry as you mentally reprimand yourself for assuming he had meant something else.

“Do you need me to carry you to your room?”

“Nope.”

And with that you are on your feet, scurrying over to your room. You're changed and in much comfier attire in no time. Meanwhile, Zayne has since been inspecting your fridge.

He closes the door and you can already hear the lecture he's about to give.

“Before you say anything, I was going to buy groceries, BUT, the wanderer sort of distracted me.”

He sighs and closes his eyes for a moment before pulling out his phone. Deft fingers tapping on the screen.

“The food will be here in 30 minutes, you should drink water and rest in the meanwhile.”

“Huh?”

He walks off to grab a glass and fills it with water before coming back to escort you to your couch. Instructing you to finish the drink. His eyes hone in on the blood stains and his brows furrow but he doesn’t say a word.

He walks back to the kitchen, dampens another rag, and squeezes a few drops of soap on top. Before you can stop him, he’s kneeling on one knee and making quick work of the stains and patting the spot dry.

“Zayne, you’re being so domestic. Do you do this for all your patients?”

He places the rag on your coffee table and turns to you, and for the first time you’re actually looking down on his face.

You stare, taking in his eyes, a shade of honey green that you could spend hours poring over, like an ever-shifting image of a galaxy. When did you get so poetic?

The rain’s pitter patter and the soft ambience of lamplight make this feel like a scene out of a movie, the yellow glow softening his sharp features. He reaches over and palms your cheek, his thumb gently rubbing over your cheekbones.

“Only for my most reckless patients.”

You can feel the rise of your chest, the fluttering of your heart, and swallow slowly; eyes wander all over his face.

It’s only now that you notice that his hair is a little damp. You inch closer and you catch his eyes lower to your lips. Time moves at that infuriatingly slow speed like you’re dreaming, and the- DING DONG!

Delivery. Mood shaken, and sudden realization of what was about to happen, you both stand and look away. Zayne beats you to the door and grabs the food from the clueless delivery guy as you try your best to not stare daggers at him.

You go to set the table for two, but Zayne interrupts you.

“I have to go soon.”

“What?” Your disappointment clear.

“I just got a message, there’s a patient under critical condition I ought to check on.”

He places the food on the table, and you grab his hand to stop him.

“Wait, you ordered the food, you should take it.”

“I ordered it for you.” He replies cooly.

“Zayne!”

You can see that he has no intention of taking any of it with him and admit defeat.

“Fine. But I’m taking you out to lunch tomorrow.”

He smiles and gently pats your head. “I look forward to it.”

You walk him over to your door and hand him an umbrella, the rain still pattering outside. He turns to you and gestures for you to come closer.

Confused you inch closer and lean into him. His hand finds its way back to your cheek and he places a quick soft kiss on your forehead.

“This will do for now.” He smirks and walks away before your brain is able to process what just happened.

“For now?!” You barely manage to yell at him before he rounds the corner and disappears down the hallway.

Mouth agape, you’re about to go running after him but are promptly reminded of your injured state by a sudden stab of pain.

“Zayne!” You’re not sure if he can hear you, but you don’t care. The fluttering in your heart has you almost floating as you giggle and close the door.

You grab your phone and shoot him a message.

You: You’re bad for my heart.

Zayne: Good thing I’m your doctor.

[yanderecrazysie]

hey, no hate if you deny this request, but au soulmate bakugou? Yes pls.

I don’t think I could ever deny a soulmate au XD

Part 2: here

Title: Soulmate Song

Pairings: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, soulmate AU, spoiler for Bakugou’s hero name, swearing

Summary: Your soulmate is not exactly what you pictured.

“Soulmates come by surprise

Bell curve it seems extremes arise

And those who beat the odds will call it fate”

-From “Soulmate Song” by Carson James Argenna

You weren’t one to look at tabloids, but even you had heard the rumors of how abrasive and rude the hero Dynamight was. You’re also sure the magazines had covered his soulmate mark. You wish now that you’d read at least one article on it, because then you wouldn’t be as taken by surprise as you were now.

You sat there on the dusty floor, coughing from the smoke in the air. The store your family owns was destroyed. Hopefully the insurance would cover it. 

Despite all the rumors surrounding Dynamight, he was undeniably a superhero at this moment. He was panting, shoulders heaving a little with each breath. The villains, however, are much worse for wear, lying knocked out on overturned shelves.

Somehow, the villains are the least worrying thing on your mind. The forefront thought on your mind is the mark on Dynamight’s left shoulder blade. A grenade with three small sparks around the top… oh so fitting for him. You shouldn’t be as surprised as you were that he was your match.

That’s right. Your own back bore the same mark. Bakugou Katsuki was your soulmate.

You didn’t exactly look your best. Your hair was blown in every direction, your clothes were covered in dust and soot, and you were sure your face was just as dirtied. But this could be your only chance to approach Dynamight, considering he was a famous person.

You got to your feet, swaying unsteadily. Dynamight’s back was to you and you weren’t sure how to get his attention.

“Excuse me, Dynamight?” Your voice came out as a squeak. He didn’t turn around.

Your hand reached out hesitantly and rested on the soulmate mark. For a moment, you admired the way it looked on his light skin, the next moment, he was spinning around, asking, “What the hell is wrong with you?”

You curled your hand into your chest, heat rising to your cheeks.

“We’re soulmates,” you whispered.

“What was that?” Dynamight didn’t seem all that interested in what you had to say, but at least he was listening.

“We’re soulmates!” You said, a little louder than intended.

The blond hero stared at you for a moment before a derisive laugh left his lips, “Yeah, right, I’ve heard that line before.”

“No, I’m serious,” you protested, “I have a tank top underneath my shirt, I can show-”

“Listen,” Dynamight said, “My soulmate is not going to be a little wimp. If I have a soulmate, she’s going to be a strong hero who can stand by my side and fight. Not someone like you who cowers on the floor like a stupid little bug.”

It felt like the life had been sucked out of you. Your stomach plummeted and then rose with the fury consuming your body. 

“Fuck you,” you spat, “I’d rather have no soulmate than be with you.”

“See, that’s a little more fiery,” Dynamight snickered.

You spun on your heel and stormed through the employee’s only entrance. The backroom was spared from the damage the villains and explosive hero had caused. 

You held back tears. Like every little girl, you had dreamed you’d meet your soulmate and live happily ever after. Even as an adult, you’d held out hope. 

But this guy? You weren’t lying when you said you’d rather have no soulmate at all.

You’d cry later, you were sure of that. But for now, anger was your primary emotion.

How dare he be an asshole? How dare he crush your dreams of being happy?

Why had the universe paired you with someone like him? Had mother nature run out of pairs to match up?

Well, forget him. You didn’t need him. There were plenty of people who lost their soulmates, surely you’d meet one of them. Or maybe you’d meet a guy whose soulmate was a total bitch and you could bond over how much the universe sucked.

You’d be fine.

—---------------------------------------------

A month had passed since that day, and Bakugou hadn’t given it a second thought. Just another crazy fan trying to get him to date them. He didn’t even care about finding his soulmate.

At least, he didn’t think he did. Not until now.

You’re playing in the waves, splashing your friend on the mostly-empty beach. He recognizes you not just by your face, but by the symbol on your shoulder blade. 

You weren’t lying.

He approached you eagerly, feeling the pull of fate dragging him closer. Sure, you weren’t the strong pro hero he was expecting, but you were solely and uniquely his.

You gave him a dirty look upon seeing him and loudly suggested to your friend that the two of you head further down the beach.

The message was clear. He got it.

He started to walk away, then stopped. Looked back at you. Felt that surge of possessiveness shoot up his spine.

You were weak. And, for the first time, he wasn’t seeing that in disgust, but in worry. You were completely unprotected, defenseless…

You needed him. And who was he to protest?

The universe wanted you together, after all.

[harrywavycurly]

Southern Comfort Part 8: How in Tarnation

Masterlist: here

CW: None

Tag List: @wedontknowherorhimorthem

A/N: Harry is full on in love but you just need him to say something because you don’t handle silence very well, enjoy✨

Harry was bending down to pick up a jar of raspberry jam when he felt something ram into his ankle causing him to lose his balance resulting in him bumping his head on the very same shelf he had just grabbed his jam from. He heard someone let out a very loud and in his opinion semi-dramatic gasp as he rubbed his head with his hand that wasn’t holding the jar and stood up straight. But before he could do anything he heard the sound of feet rushing over to him and then he felt hands on his back urging him to turn around so they could asses the damage they’d just caused.

“Oh my goodness I am so sorry.” Harry felt his whole body tense up as your voice hit his ears. “I swear I’ve never in my whole life even bumped into someone else’s buggy before and here I am just rammin into you like you’re a damn bumper car.” Your accent is thick as your words are rushed together while your eyes scan his face, Harry’s hand drops from his head making your eyes go wide. “Oh sweet baby Jesus lord have mercy.” Harry panics at your words as you half mumble them under your breath, he starts thinking maybe you recognize him but his fear is soon swept away as you reach up on your tiptoes so you can cup his cheeks with your hands and he instantly leans into your touch. You gently pull his face down towards you in an attempt to help you get a better look at where his head made contact with the shelf and you let out a huff when you see a small red bump.

“I’m-” he tries to introduce himself but you’re quick to cut him off.

“How did this happen?” Harry has to fight the urge to laugh at your question because to him it’s pretty obvious how it happened, but he’s still in shock that you’re actually standing right in front of him with your hands on his face so he just stays silent. “I hit you in the ankle how in tarnation did you manage to somehow hit your head?” He actually chuckles at your words this time but when you let go of his face he immediately feels the corners of his mouth drop into a frown at the loss of contact. “I’m first aid certified so just let me get a good look.” You take a step back from him and motion with your hands for him to sit down making him raise an eyebrow. “I need you to sit please since you’re just a smidge taller than me.” You explain with a sweet smile and Harry doesn’t hesitate as he plops down on the floor sitting cross legged and placing his hands and jar of jam in his lap.

“Lord okay let’s see can you tell me your name? I’m just trying to see if you have a concussion or something.” Harry knows he should say something but when he opens his mouth you just roll your eyes and shake your head and let out an annoyed groan at yourself. “I don’t know your name so how the hell would I be able to tell you if it’s right or not? Okay uh can you tell me the day of the week? That’s the same for everyone so I’ll be able to tell if you knocked yourself into yesterday or not.” You’re staring down at him with a warm smile on your face but you do have a slight hint of concern in your voice and he knows he should absolutely say something to help ease your mind but he just can’t seem to make his mouth move to form actual words.

“Oh maybe you don’t talk? That’s okay I’ll do enough of that for the both of us because I just don’t handle silence well and I’m sorry again for rammin my buggy into you like that but maybe if you have to go to the hospital or something my insurance will cover it? Is this considered a collision? I don’t know but you’re not bleeding so that’s always a good sign.” You take a step closer to him so you can get a better look at the bump on his head and he can’t help but take in how your accent seems to get thicker and thicker the more you ramble on, as does the speed of your words as they fly out of your mouth.

Harry finds it oddly amusing that when he’s sat on the floor his head comes up to your tummy, he doesn’t know why he wasn’t expecting you to be so small since your personality seems larger than life. He knows he needs to say something so you know who he is and also to help you relax because he can see a wrinkle of worry between your eyebrows. But for the life of him he just can’t seem to find the words so he just sits there and allows himself the opportunity to take in your appearance. You look like you just got off work because you’re wearing a shirt that has the name of a preschool on it and your hair is in a messy bun giving him a good view of the starfish earrings you’re wearing and he can’t help but smile at the sight of them because he knows you probably picked them to go with the theme of your class for the month. He’s never thought someone looked as adorable as you do in this very moment.

“Oh raspberry is a good choice.” Your voice brings his eyes back to yours and interrupts his thoughts as he follows your gaze to the jar in his hands. “I’m gonna feel around your little bump and I’m sorry if it hurts but I’m just checking for some things and don’t ask me what I’m checking for I’ll just know it if I feel it.” Harry just nods as your fingers gently press around his forehead. “Is that a mermaid on your forearm?” Harry looks down at his arm and then back up at you and he can’t help but feel his heartbeat quicken when he sees you smiling down at him. “I like mermaids too and oddly enough I’m a teacher and this month is all about-”

“Life at the beach.” He feels your fingers fall from his forehead as your eyes widen a bit as he finally finds himself able to speak to you. “Hi love.” He adds and his voice is lower than normal due to still partially being in shock but he watches as your eyes scan his face and then quickly roam his body as you take a small step backwards and he can practically see it all begin to click for you as your face lights up as you smile at him.

“Harry?” He just nods his head as you let out a laugh and he’s glad he’s already sitting because the sight of you standing in front of him laughing with your hand on your chest would’ve probably made him drop to the ground anyway because he was right, you do look absolutely beautiful when you laugh. “Well honeybuns if this ain’t fate then I don’t know what is.” Your hands fall to your hips as you just continue to smile at him.

“Do you think I’m concussed?” He asks making you roll your eyes at him while taking a step towards him so you can kneel down and it’s not until your eye level with him that he feels like he just got the wind knocked out of him because it’s not until then that he gets the full effect of your stare and he’s once again thankful for his spot on the floor.

“You’re fine sugar plum.” Is all you say before you stand back up and offer him your hand to help him up. “I don’t bite.” You tease as you wiggle your fingers at him until he finally reaches out and grabs your hand, taking a mental note of how small but soft it feels in his.

“If this is any indication of how you drive love then I think it’s safer if we just walk everywhere in the future.” You laugh as you help him stand up, but he doesn’t drop your hand and he doesn’t feel you trying to pull it away from him so he just continues to hold it.

“I mean honey who manages to hit their head from getting rammed in the ankle? That takes a special kinda talent and then there’s the whole bending down without checking your surroundings which is just proper grocery store manners.” Your eyes are taking in his appearance as you speak and Harry swears he’s never felt more self conscious in his entire life, he’s second guessing his choice of outfit which is just a casual pair of jeans and one of his worn out Rolling Stones shirt since he wanted to be comfortable in the studio which is where he was at a mere half hour ago.

“So that kinda makes this whole thing your fault sugar so this really doesn’t have anything to do with how I drive a buggy or a vehicle.” You add as your eyes stop when they meet his as you look up at him with a smirk and playful glint in your eyes before shooting him a little wink and he knows this is going to be the moment looking back that he tells people is when he fell in love with you but he just shakes his head in an attempt to bring him back to the moment at hand as he looks down at you.

“I forget that everything always comes back to being my fault.” He admits as he feels you pull your hand away from his so you can turn and walk back over to your cart.

“Oh honeybuns admitting to being forgetful is such a gentlemanly thing to do.” Even though he knows you’re teasing him he feels his cheeks get warm at your statement as you place your hands on the cart and raise an eyebrow at him. “Well come on sugar plum I’m not done with my list yet.” You walk past him after tossing a jar of the same raspberry jam he had in his hand into your cart. “I might need to borrow your height on the cereal aisle.” And with that he quickly catches up to you before you make it to the end of the aisle so he can walk behind you and he can’t help the grin that spreads over his face because not only are you actually real but you’re currently leading him around a supermarket, and if he’s being honest he can’t even really feel the pain in his ankle or head anymore.

[mxtantrights]

Can you Do a Dick Grayson x Fem! Reader, where the Reader ends up in the Batverse and both discover they're Soulmates and crisis erased the readers earth, plus family. They bond and starting to talk about everything, he's comforting her and offers her to move in. Both fall in love and marry two years after, reader is a Chinese-German girl

-

a/n: this has been in my drafts for a while and I'm so sorry about that. at first I was stuck because I wanted to write this but I didn't know how to write from the perspective of a Chinese-German reader. So I made the background neutral. I hope that's okay!

so I loved this request thank you so much for sending it in! I didn't focus on the Chinese-German aspect, and left it fairly neutral. As always you can imaging this how you want.

The last thing you remember is going to bed. Everything was fine-everything was normal. You had work in the morning, you had already ironed your clothes and were thinking about which place to go to for lunch. Everything was fine.

Then you woke up in someone else's bed. The sheets were silky black. And the furniture in the room didn't look anything like yours. You try to wrap your head around it-maybe you had a one night stand and forgot to go home?

But wouldn't you remember that?

You get up with a start and look down at your body. Clothes are still intact. No one night stand, you sigh in relief. You crawl out of the bed and look for the door.

Once you find it, you pull it open. And right there waiting for you is the most gorgeous man you've ever seen. Blue eyes. Black hair. Pretty smile.

"Hi baby, I've got breakfast on the stove but I wanted to know if you wanna try the new creamer?" he asks.

You cock your head to the side. You understand every word he's saying, except one. Baby. Baby? Who was he calling baby? Was there someone else he was speaking to in the room? Were you in one of those invisible dreams?

All of a sudden his hand comes up and brushes your chin.

"Baby?" he asks again.

And it hits you then and there that he's talking to you! He's calling you baby! Your mind automatically think it's a dream. That you may have woken up but that was part of this dream. You were still sleeping.

Your only response is to hum. You watch as he glides into the bedroom, he says something about you being able to sleep through almost anything but somehow you were awake right now.

You don't feel like it.

This has to be a dream.

-

A week into this new life, you find out it is not dream. You keep going to sleep but waking up here. Here, in this world with Dick Grayson. Every night he comes home to you, kisses you on the cheek and says goodnight.

You've learned a lot about him while he's busy. When he's at work you look him up freely. Son of Bruce Wayne. Cop. Heartbreaker.

And you do your best to make all this information seem like old news to you. If you can't he'll see right through you.

There's also the fact that he comes in late at night or very early in morning. While you know what his official job is, you don't know what it is he does at night. What causes him to come home with bloody knuckles, cuts to the lip and fresh bruises.

You want to ask but you know that if you do, you'll give it all away. He'll know that this isn't your world. And you'll be out on the street with no way of helping yourself get back home.

So for a week you keep your questions to yourself.

Until you can't help it.

He comes in at two am in the morning. He's clinching his side and wincing with every step he takes. You get out of bed right then and there. You can't stand to see him in pain.

"Okay you have to tell me what's going on." you say.

Dick looks at you sweetly, "It's just a tough case baby. Don't worry."

"I don't think the department has great insurance to cover you getting beat up like this." you reply.

"This isn't that bad." he answers.

"Isn't that bad?! Dick you're barely breathing right now!"

He cocks his head to the side at your outburst. You curse yourself. If you didn't give yourself away this whole week, you just did it. He's a detective after all.

"You're not my girlfriend." he states.

You gulp, "I don't know what you mean."

"Don't lie to me. You've been different since that morning, you're not her." he explains.

You sigh and sit on the bed. With your head dropped to the floor you debate on the words to use. How exactly do you tell him that this isn't your world. That you come from a world where superheroes and vigilantes don't exist.

"I don't know how it happened. I went to sleep one night and then next thing I know I'm waking up on your silk sheets." you answer honestly.

There's a moment of silence. And then Dick grunts. You pick your head up to view him. He's pulling a jacket on over his clothes. You get up from the bed quickly.

"We need to talk to Bruce."

-

You're sitting in the dinning room. It's quiet except for the faint sound of voices coming from the other room. It's Dick and his father, and his brothers. They're all talking about you.

When you first got here, you were met with weary looks. Apparently they could all tell you didn't fit in here. But Dick hadn't caught it and he was the only person you talked to since you arrived.

You explained to them as best you could. And then Dick ushered you into the dinning room. They needed to deliberate the situation. Which meant they were talking about you in a whole other room like you were a problem to solve.

You wanted to go home badly. But you wanted to be a part of the process. What if they ended up sending you to another world? What if you got stuck there?

The door opens and you turn around to see who it is that's come to talk to you.

A man in a trench coat.

You don't recognize him. It makes you stand up from your seat.

"If you're gonna blast me to another world can we make sure it's the right one?" you ask, the words tumbling out of your mouth faster than you can think.

The man laughs, "I like this one."

This one?

You scoff, "This one has a name."

"Yeah, and apparently it's the same one as the woman of this world, but you're not her."

You notice the way he says it. Like he knows you. Or not you, her. The you of this world.

"You knew her?" you ask.

He nods his head, "She and I go back a bit. She'd want to come home."

"I want to go home too. I'd do anything." you admit.

"Good, because I need to look inside your mind."

You decide to not give him any backtalk. Why would you? You want to go home so badly. If you got a headache or a migraine from this you wouldn't care.

The man instructs you to lay on the table. Which freaks you out. But you try to not let your nervousness show. You do as he says and lay flat on the table. You shut your eyes.

He tells you to relax and that the process will be painless.

He lies.

Once you feel him in your mind, it feels like someone is scratching the inside of your head. It feels uncomfortable. And then when eh goes perusing into your memories it feels even worse.

As he gets to a week ago, you feel your skin getting hotter. Your breath shaky.

You can see it.

You go to bed. Everything is normal. Your alarm clock is set. Your clothes are laid out for the next day. All the lights are off. And you doze off.

Behind your eyelids you see it. How the darkness transforms into a blinding light. You open your eye at the last second but you can see nothing. Just a bright light, and how hot everything is against your skin.

You lurch off the table with a gasp.

In-between your distress your eyes catch people running into the room. Dick, his brothers and his father. Dick comes to your side and takes your hand into his.

"You're okay. Everything is fine." he tries soothing you.

You shake your head, "No it's not. None of this is okay."

You look over at the man who looked into your mind. He's looking at you with grim features. Nothing about what you saw was good, but looking at him makes you double sure.

"He clears his throat.

"She's from a crisis Earth. It got erased." he answers.

Crisis Earth? What does that mean? As you look at Dick you realize that it means something to the others in the room. Something bad, based on their faces.

-

It takes time to come to terms with the fact that you can't go home. It's explained to you over and over again but your brain doesn't let you believe it.

You walk around like a zombie for the first few weeks. Dick let's you take the spare room in his apartment. Sleeping in the same bed with him felt weird when you realized that you weren't leaving, and his you wasn't coming back anytime soon.

Constantine, the man who looked into your mind, told you that the mechanics of what happened were are. You came from one world to the next, and pushed the you of this world out. He didn't say if out meant that the other you was gone for good or just lost.

It makes you toss and turn at night. You feel like you're to blame for all of this. Even though you didn't do anything.

Sleep doesn't come easy to you.

One night you have a nightmare. You can picture it so clearly. That night when you went to bed and everything changed. How your skin felt like it was being burned. How you couldn't see anything but the bright hot light.

Dick has to wake you up. He grabs a hold of your shoulders and shakes you awake. You sob and sob. He consoles you the best he can knowing that you're not his. It's odd. It's unshakable. It's not right.

-

About six months in you have a job. You work enough hours to afford a place on your own. Which is what prompted you to get the job in the first place.

But as you're boxing up the few things you've collected since you're arrival, you find yourself not wanting to leave. Maybe it's because Dick is the only person who knows what you're going through. The only person to show you grace and help you out.

You do your best to power through it.

And when you finally get the last box tapped up, Dick comes bolting in your room. You had planned on leaving while he was at work, but that plan is thwarted.

"We're you just going to leave without saying goodbye?" he asks you bluntly.

You swipe your hands on the back of your pants.

"I know me being here is just a constant reminder of what you lost, I thought I'd save you the heartache." you answer sadly.

You pick up the box and move past him and to the other boxes that are pilled up next to the front door. He moves in sync with you. Living with him for six months meant that the two of you coexisted. You learned each other's routines, behaviors, habits.

Dick grabs the box from you before you can put it down yourself.

"I don't want you to leave." he says.

You look at him sharply.

"Dick, I can't thank you enough for all that you've done for me. But I can't stay here, it's not fair to you." you explain.

But you can see with the more words you speak, the more agitated he gets.

"Who said it's not fair? I didn't say that. Ask me what I think about this!" he replies.

You sigh, "You're not thinking straight. I have her face. You want her, not me."

Dick stops for a moment. He places his hands on his hips and gives you a look you can't read. You weren't good at reading him like he is you.

"I want you to stay. I don't want you to move. I don't want you out of my life, and it's not because I think you're her or that you're replacing her."

You look at him then. Confusion is all you have on your mind. Why would he want a constant reminder of what he lost around? Why would he want you to stay?

"I was supposed to sign the lease today."

"Please, please don't sign that lease. Please don't leave." Dick says.

[cbk1000]

So, just got home from my appointment with my new doc. I gave him the Cliff Notes version of all the issues I've been having for the last few months, and I forgot a copy of the initial iron panel that I had done, unfortunately (I meant to bring it and even left it on my computer so I would remember; how did that work for you, dumbass?) but I remembered my numbers, and as soon as I told him what the results were for my initial iron panel, he immediately said, 'That's low."

I KNOW. PLEASE TELL DR. CRAZY THAT.

Basically, he listened to everything I said, asked relevant questions, asked if I'd had my thyroid levels checked (because thyroid can definitely cause some of these problems), said if necessary in future if there are still issues, we can do a thyroid scan, but let's get an updated iron panel done to see where I'm at and if we can increase my dose, work on the iron deficiency, and then go from there. I asked about iron infusions to speed things up, and he said, "Yeah, definitely, we can see if we can get that covered for you if you want to do that." I said I know insurances are a pain when it comes to coverage and a lot of them won't pay unless your hemoglobin is low, and that I have a health savings account and am able and willing to pay out of pocket, and he was like, "Ok, good."

He also offered to refer me to a hematologist, and I said I had thought of asking my last doctor for that, but he was difficult to work with (understatement of the year) and that I figured an appointment with a hematologist would probably be pretty far out anyway, and I'd prefer to try and get in a lot sooner if possible for an infusion. He said, "Yeah, hematology is always backed up." I did say I had been in touch with a telehealth hematologist about possibly ordering an iron infusion, but thought it would probably be faster to go through a local doctor if it was possible to get it ordered through him, but that's at least an option; he was glad to hear I'd been in touch with a hematologist. He wants to see where I'm currently at with my iron panel (I haven't tested it for six weeks) and then figure out what the best course of treatment is based on my numbers. (If I'm at a certain level, an infusion wouldn't be safe, because I'd risk overload, but considering that in four weeks of supplementing, I went up nine points, and then in another four weeks, I went down a point, I'm gonna' be extremely shocked if he comes back like, "Yeah, your ferritin went up to 150, so we can't do an infusion right now."

He actually even brought up POTS and said some of my cardiac symptoms were similar, and I said, "Yeah, I had thought of that, but my heart rate isn't really consistent." He asked if I meant that it wasn't going up when I changed positions, and I said, "Well, it's been coming down as I've been supplementing, and I don't think it would do that if it were POTS. Also, my normal resting heart rate is in the 60s, and on bad days, just lying down in bed, not doing anything, my heart rate is in the 90s. It goes up higher the more I exert myself, obviously, but even lying down doing nothing it's a lot higher than my normal resting heart rate."

I told my previous doctor all of this, and he just ignored all of it and continued to blather on about how the shot had given me POTS.

Do you know what this doctor did? He said, "Oh, yeah, probably not POTS then. Also, if cardiology already checked you out and they didn't even mention it as a possibility, it's probably not."

He also asked if I had a history of iron deficiency anemia, and I said I hadn't had labwork done at the time so I didn't know what my iron levels were or if my hemoglobin was abnormal, but many years ago after a blood donation I started feeling really sick, had the high heart rate and shortness of breath and could barely get off the couch, and I was still living at home at the time, and my mom was a nurse and just put me on iron supplements and that resolved my symptoms, and that those cardiac problems seem to just be how my body responds to low iron.

And he just. Took that at face value. Like, ok, you have a history of this, then, let's work on getting it sorted out and then look at other possibilities if it doesn't all clear up with iron treatment.

So I'm getting my iron panel done Friday, and then we'll go from there with treatment options.

[mj-iza-writer]

Whumptober Day 31. The last one.

"I thought that I was getting better" / emptiness / setbacks / "Take it easy"

"Stop trying to get out of those shackles, you're going to hurt yourself", Villain slapped Whumpee's hands down.

"Then release me. You can't hold me here, I need to get back to Hero's team", Whumpee shook the shackles at Villain.

Villain frowned, "your 'team' doesn't want you, just trust me on that. It will all make sense soon... I hope."

Whumpee laughed, "trust you? How do I trust someone who has tried to kill me several times?"

"That was before I knew your team's secret regarding you", Villain paced, "I don't have everything straightened out yet, and your escape attempts are really starting to get on my nerves."

Whumpee frowned, "let me go."

"No, just sit still and behave", Villain sighed, "please."

Whumpee crossed their arms and pouted. They tugged on the shackles a bit more, but gave up.

"Um Villain?", Whumpee looked up a few minutes later.

"Ugh, what?", they groaned.

"Sorry", Whumpee looked down, "is there any rule against me sleeping, are you going to force me into sleep deprivation?"

"No, by all means, go to sleep. Maybe then I can have some silence to work", Villain threw a pillow at Whumpee.

"Ooph!"

"Sorry, I wasn't aiming for your face", Villain balled up a blanket and threw it.

The blanket opened up mid-air and fully covered Whumpee.

Later Whumpee woke up and realized Villain wasn't around. They had picked the locks to the shackles and had finally gotten them undone before falling asleep. They were happy Villain didn't check.

They snuck up the stairwell, careful to insure Villain wouldn't hear or see them. They finally were able to see the exit.

Whumpee ran for it, accidentally tripping an alarm.

Villain ran out of a room when the alarm sounded.

"Whumpee wait", they yelled as Whumpee escaped.

"Great", Villain squeezed the bridge of their nose, "they got out, I have to wait for fifteen minutes while lockdown clears up, all the while they are getting away. Villain ran to their computer and logged in.

"Glad they didn't feel me put the tracking device on them while they slept", Villain watched the computer set up the tracking. They looked back at where Whumpee was sleeping, "of course you can pick locks", they sighed.

Whumpee had already gotten pretty far, they darted around a corner and leaned against a building to catch their breath.

Whumpee looked around, getting their barring.

"Hero should be off today. They will probably be at Headquarters", Whumpee started to walk, "wait until I tell them what happened. They will feel bad, not realizing I was kidnapped", Whumpee told themself.

Finally at Headquarters, Whumpee pressed the code to get in.

"Huh, maybe they did know I was kidnapped and had to change the code. Smart just in case I did give that information. I wouldn't have though, no matter the what."

"Whumpee is that you?", the speaker box on the side started.

"Oh hey Hero, yeah, I was captured by villain, but escaped", Whumpee grinned, "can I come in."

The door opened, and Whumpee entered.

Hero waited for them near the entrance, Whumpee could see a fake smile plastered on their face.

"Is everything okay?", Whumpee stopped.

"No, not really, I thought I got rid of you. You've caused me so many problems", Hero frowned.

"But I", Whumpee took a step back in shock, "what do you mean?"

"Heck Whumpee, you have no idea still? You are a bargaining chip in this city. You remember supervillain, they died two years ago? You are their child. The city forced you to forget through memory deletion and made me and the team keep you so the villains wouldn't turn you to their side. They would have an advantage if that happened", Hero started to walk to Whumpee.

Whumpee stepped back, "they were right."

Hero smiled, "I'm glad you know, now we can just put you in protective custody."

"No", Whumpee started to run.

Hero jumped forward and caught them, "I don't think so."

Whumpee turned and bit Hero, then ran when Hero pulled back.

"You little....", Hero yelled, "I'll get you, and when I do, you'll rot in jail in your parents' place.

Whumpee escaped and ran down the street. They found a hiding place behind a dumpster in an alley.

Whumpee pulled their knees to their chest, buried their face in their arms, and started to cry.

They sighed when the sky opened up, and it started to rain.

"How could I have been so stupid, I'm a pathetic pawn for this city. Just a throw away", Whumpee spoke out loud.

A sudden stop of rain made them look up, an umbrella was being hovered over them.

"Villain?", Whumpee sobbed, "how did you find me?"

"Tracking device", they smiled and knelt down, "I take it you found out the hard way."

Whumpee sighed and sadly nodded.

"I will say this once, and only once, but I told you so. I told you to wait and be patient, but no", Villain frowned, "Supervillain was my closet friend. You've unfortunately changed quite a bit to where I didn't recognize you at first, and I was doing a DNA test."

Whumpee looked down, "what now?"

"I would dishonor Supervillain if I didn't take care of their child. So if you'd like to come back with me to my base, and take an easy, you are welcome to do so", Villain smiled, "you can stay there as long as you need."

"Are you going to shackle me again", Whumpee grinned.

"Not unless you want me to, I'm still curious how you picked the lock", Villain stood and reached a hand down to help Whumpee up, "if you run away again that's on you, my base is your home so you can always come and go, but I'm not chasing you down again like this."

Whumpee took the hand and stood, "are you sure, Hero may target me now", Whumpee frowned.

"I count on it", Villain smiled as they started to go back to their base together, "Hero has a lot of things they've been hiding from the public, I can't wait to tear down those walls they've built. Once the public sees their precious Hero for who they really are, chaos will break free. The age of the villains will begin."

Whumpee stopped walking.

Villain turned and looked at them, "don't worry, you don't have to be involved if you don't want to be, you will have my protection to keep you safe."

"No, it's not that, this sounds so familiar. Like a dream", Whumpee frowned.

"It was Supervillain's plan, I'm only completing it for them. There is no way I would have come up with this on my own", Villain smiled, "your parent loved you by the way, that was the last thing they said when they died in my arms."

"How did they die? Hero says the government whiped my memory", Whumpee walked under the umbrella again.

"Hero and Superhero worked together to defeat them, it was an unfair fight", Villain started to lead them again, "your parent fought hard knowing you would be targeted. Superhero grabbed you before I could get to you. They definitely changed your appearance, I don't even want to know everything they did to you."

Villain looked around, "we should get back to base, we'll be safe there, let's hurry."

As Villain ushered Whumpee inside of the base, they looked back towards the street. They knew Hero was watching.

"What's wrong Villain?", Whumpee watched.

"Nothing, I thought I saw something", Villain took another look and saw Hero standing on the street, "just an imposter hiding under a cape", they grinned as they closed the door, and set the alarms.

"Hero is out there?", Whumpee took a few steps back.

"Yep", Villain turned to them, "no worries", some banging happened at the door, Villain pressed a button, "they aren't getting in. This base is indestructible."

"Whumpee come on, I'm sorry. Come back with me. I was having a hard day, and you caught me at a bad moment, I'm sorry. I should have never said that to you", Hero yelled, "I'll keep you safe, you don't know what you are doing."

Villain smiled, "they are realizing they made a mistake and told you too much, they want you back so they can erase your memory again."

The banging kept up.

"Well that's annoying", Villain pressed another button, "come here."

They watched a video feed of hero banging on the door, then a gun pointed at Hero. Hero jumped back and realized the gun was following them. They ran off after a few minutes of dodging bullets.

"Unfortunately I don't think you're leaving the base any time soon, they may wait for you to come out. We have to be smart about this", Villain watched Whumpee sit down, "you should lay low, and take it easy for a while."

Whumpee nodded.

Whumpee found Villain a bit later. They quietly walked closer.

"They're relentless", Whumpee heard a guard whisper to a different guard, while Villain worked nearby.

Whumpee caught Villain's eye.

"Hey, is everything alright?", Villain gave them their full attention.

"Yes thankyou, and thankyou for dinner", Whumpee looked at the monitors the guards were watching.

"Is-is that Superhero?", Whumpee watched as they attacked the base.

"Yep", Villain sighed less than amused, "they've been punching that spot for an hour now."

"They scare me, thay always have", Whumpee looked down, "whenever they came over to Headquarters I would hide in my room until they left."

Villain went over to the monitor and grabbed a mic.

"You're not getting in here. You can keep banging all you want, but your just wasting time. You know Supervillain built this base to protect their family and friends", Villain yelled.

"Give me back Whumpee or else", Superhero punched again.

Villain could see the blood oozing from Superhero's hand.

"Whumpee is back where they belong, safe from those who used them", Villain reached for a button, "if you don't stop punching that wall with your bloody fist, I'll paint the rest of that side with my guns."

Superhero looked down at their hand, "I will get them back, watch me."

Whumpee and Villain watched Superhero fly off.

Villain turned towards Whumpee, "are you okay?"

Whumpee nodded, shaken up at the thought of Superhero getting them.

"I won't let them", Villain seemed to read Whumpee's mind, "I lost my friend, I'm no going to fail them by losing their child. You trust me, right?"

"Yes", Whumpee turned to Villain, "I have some information I think might help."

"Great", Villain smiled, "let's get dessert and we can talk about it."

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all. @villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived @sacredwrath @porschethemermaid @monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz @bloodyandfrightened

[hellishere7980]

IMW Chapter 8

"Gabriel Agreste" "then she isn't exaggerating, Gabriel is the largest fashion company in France, once this gets out it will cause mass boycotts and the business will go under, lucky information about the shadowmoth situation hasn't left France's borders yet.." before the finance minister could continue Ladybug cut him off.

"Information about Shadowmoth won't leave Paris as long as the Miraculous are in use, Apart from the information block and other things you have in place, my predecessor thought it important to place an magic barrier over all of France to insure no one especially the Justice League or the villains they fight gain any information about what has been going on here but that barrier will fall soon after all the miraculouses are in my procession and I leave France with the miraculous. So if we act right we can negate the worst possible outcome of a finance crash" Opening up her and pulling several copies of her plan and all possible emergency/contingency plans. "this is my plan but in order to do this with minimum collateral damage to the people of Paris economy…"

The meeting went well into the night but after hearing out her plan they all agreed it gave Paris and France the best possibility to recover from the effects of Shadowmoth, with a few tweaks here and there from the ministers.

They would start by talking away Shadowmoth's allies without exposing their hands. Ladybug told them her former mouse would give them the in to take down the mayor and from there they can launch a 'public investigation' that will lead them to the police corruption and will be able to replace them with trusted people. Lila would lead them to Dupout (the foreign affairs minister will have a field day with her). As long as they do this right they can wipe out all of Gabriel's allies in a single final swipe.

Monday – Noon T-48 hours till emancipation.

After checking on the kwami's Marinette was able to finish her school work in record time, even for her. On the other side of the apartment, the kwami were more than ever convinced that Marinette had a great destiny ahead of her. Her natural ability to wield all the miraculouses of the mother box without harm, her natural gifts with magic, her instinct everything points to that one fact. Marinette was going to leave one hell of a mark in history.

Marinette sat looking up at her bedroom ceiling when a thought accrued to her, she had taken in 16 soon to be 19 pocket gods who were cosmic beings who she has all but legally adopted as family. God dammit it was genetic, she cursed Bruce.

Bruce in a board meeting. Achoo!

At midnight on the tallest tower in Paris… guess it

Marinette looked at the ring in her hand and thought how easy it was to take. Looking up she saw Plagg in the middle of an Kwami hug as the other Kwami's showed him around the apartment, Marinette's gaze never leaving the ring. Taking a deep breath and putting it on the ring, resizing itself on her right fourth finger as it turns into a stunning emerald and gold ring .

Marinette sat on her arm covering her eyes thinking about the events that had undertaken an hour ago.

1 hour ago

Ladybug, Bee and Shell (Basically Marinette transformed with Ladybug, Turtle, Mouse and Bee) stood on top of the Eiffel tower with the wind blowing strong.

Not even 10 minutes passed before chat arrived "hey Buggaboo, finally going to confess your feelings for this cat" said Chat Noir as he wrapped his arms around her waist as one of his hands wandered down lower to her butt.

"Something like that" replied Ladybug as she put her arms around his neck, tapping her index and middle fingers against his back. Chat turned his head to the side as his eye went wide and a smile lay apon his lips.

"about ti…" but before he could finish he frozen as he was coated in a dark yellow light as his muscles became stiff. Ladybug's arms unwrapped from his neck as the shelter went up. Her right hand tracing down his arms reaching and slipping off the black cat miraculous, as bee and Shell reappeared taking their place behind Ladybug near the edge of the tower.

Marinette looked up to Plagg as he moved over to sit on her shoulder "you ready for this Plagg?" "Yeah pigtails, I'm ready" Plagg gave Adrien the saddest look she had seen in years. Marinette stood there putting her hands on his head as she gathered and forced her magic out of her body to draw the magic circle Wayzz had shown her on the surface of the tower.

"I, Guardian of the Chinese mother box, holder of the Ladybug and chosen of Tikki, kwami of creation. Hereby revoke your right to wield the black cat miraculous, the ring of destruction. I curse you with memories of your time as Chat Noir and seal your ability to use a miraculous and to talk about them. This is my judgement as a guardian." Plagg continued "I Plagg, kwami of destruction, hereby acknowledge this judgement and agree to it." His words grew louder as he glowed. Adrien's body was enveloped in magic as his glowed.

Next Day

Everything went to plan and she was granted emancipation and legal independence. Tom and Sabine didn't stand a chance. They had called some of her old class to be character witnesses and had it back fire on the majorly.

The trail had begun a little after noon, Tom and Sabine's lawyer was running late because of traffic. Marinette's lawyer allowed them to go first and just like they thought they tried to impugn Marinette's character by calling 'character witnesses' otherwise known as her former classmates and 'friends', but when Marinette's lawyer objected speculations and asked for the to provide proof of their accusations they only replied with 'Lila said' this and that and Marinette's lawyer back down. The only other evidence they had was school reports from Dupout but they countered that with the reports Marinette herself filed against her bullies about the destroyed sketchbooks and notes, even if they weren't officially filed but with threatening Damocles with perjury he admitted Marinette had 'claimed' she was being bullied but there was no evidence. But when asked what evidence Lila provided for her 'claims' he could only reply with 'she had people to cooperate her side' but when it was pointed out the same people who vouched for Lila where the same people she had promised connections with people that could give them a jump start in their future careers their truthfulness on vouching for anything was brought into question.

But the final nail in the schools coffin was a signed statement from previous students who had their bullying reports buried because their bully had rich or influential parents.

After that, they turned their fangs towards Lila herself, after calling her to the stand and making sure she knew the price for lying under oath she kept lying. Her own lawyer showed a video from the Ladyblog and asked if it was true not releasing the smug grin Marinette's side sported when he did. When they got to cross-examine her it was a bloodbath. Clip after clip of interviews Lila had done for Alya and they presented again signed statements and even a few short videos of every celeb Lila claimed to know state they did not know a Lila Rossi and when shown the video said they would be pressing charges. And with that Tom and Sabines case fell apart. The only evidence they had that Marinette was a bad person was second hand accounts from people who had been lied to, and from said lair herself, it was even pointed out that most of her lies could be disproven with a simple google search and the fact that no one, not Marinette's classmate and so called friends or even her Parent had tried clearly showed their character and showed that Tom and Sabine shouldn't have the right to look after any child if they were so gullible.

From there it was a simple case of presenting proof of neglect and abuse. Showing bakery's payroll record and CCTV records to prove that they didn't pay Marinette for the hours she worked (both baking and manning the till) and that they had her working at least 3 hours after school everyday till closing even during exams season, meaning she only had from 6 to 9 to study for exams before having to get up at 3-4 to start the morning prep before heading to school.

Marinette had even tracked down some past part timers they used to have before Marinette was old enough to 'take over' their duties. With the final nail being the emails with the mayor, Tom and Sabines reputation was completely destroyed and the judge ruled in Marinette's favour after they showed the judge that Miss Gamora Luscinia, P.A. to MDC was willing to adopt Marinette (thank god fake identities and people who do that for bribes as well as illusions) The judge was satisfied that Miss Gamora Luscinia was mature and responsible enough to look after Miss Marinette.

Thank kwami that after a week after my emancipation my records were sealed after Tom and Sabine tried to expose who my biological father is, and I was able to convince the judge to seal both my record but even the emancipation trial record a secret for my safety, after all Bruce Wayne's kids are often kidnapped and he has already signed over his rights. And the best part? You ask? He doesn't even know it! IN YOUR FACE! You 'I-have-12-backup-plans-in-any-case'.

[sumloonpoetry]

Pierrot

The pressure is too much

It feels like a wave

I get turnt up

Just to ignore the graves

Found my bottle locked up

Inside of a cave

With no light

So I brought a knife

To cut open the gates

Can't express the notions with a verse

Just let these puddles ripple the words

Hope the reflection don't refract the hurt

I had to jump—always think of myself first

Said I love you to my sister before I hit the curb

Can't say that I'll miss many more

Nothing else was left for me on this Earth

Was feeling heft

On my chest

Way before the debt

There were ghosts on my breath

You could see them closing in

Every night I see faces blotted red

That doesn't even cover other hues

Like the cold when it grips that shade of blue

Winter is a bitch of a mistress that plays fools

Like when the shelter closes its doors on you

Yeah I'm kinda lit, but what else is there to do?

Yeah I have some strikes on my sheet

But that dude swiped my only pair of shoes!

Now it's just the wind and me

My backpack and the street

That's the fear that locked me into this 7-3

That doesn't even let me see

My own friends funeral service

This life really ain't worth it

We can all catch a stray bullet

I know nothing is perfect

My old man painted that surface

But the cracks are surfacing

I don't really need insurance

Cause this is all a tightrope act

This is a circus

[p-artsypants]

Paint it Black (16) Sharing

Ao3 | FF.net

Black sat on the couch, criss-cross applesauce, with his hands in his lap. He hadn’t bothered to put on his shirt, and merely laid it on the couch next to him. 

A few moments passed in silence as Bruce tried to determine where to begin. 

“What do you remember about your parents?” He finally asked. 

“Um…” Black tapped his chin thoughtfully, his eyes screwed shut tight and his lips pursed. “I dunno.” 

“Really think. You can take the photo out to look at it if that helps.” 

He removed the photo from his pocket, which fortunately had a plastic sleeve over it to keep it safe during his manic episodes. He placed it on the table and then leaned forward, chin in his hands to study it. 

The other Titans tried to get a closer look as well. From their perspective, it was a husband and wife in matching shirts. The wife was blonde, while the husband had black hair like Robin. 

“My daddy…is really strong. He…used to throw me in the air.” 

Bruce nodded. “Good. What about your mom?”

“She is…really pretty, and sings a lot.”

At this point, Alfred returned with the item Bruce requested. A child’s stuffed elephant. Well loved and worn. He handed it to Bruce, who held it out to Black. 

“Do you know what this is?”

Black’s eyes widened as he took the toy like it was precious treasure. “Zitka…” 

“Where’d you get it?”

“My daddy gave it to me. I named it after my friend—” he gasped and stood abruptly. “I remember now! We’re circus performers! The Flying Graysons!” His voice changed. As Black, his voice was more child-like, like a cartoon character. But now it deepened and sounded almost like Robin. “We perform at Haly’s Circus, and we’re the headline act! I remember our car! And where the dressing tent was set up and how we did the rigging! I remember all of it! We can go! I know where we can find them!” 

Bruce took a deep breath, bracing for what was about to happen. “What happened in Gotham?”

Black frowned. “I…I’m not sure.” 

“Close your eyes and think.” 

Black obeyed, hugging the elephant to his chest. 

“You saw a man talking to Mr. Haly, right?” Bruce prompted. 

Black nodded. “Yeah…yeah, I see it. He was kinda ugly and scary and was telling Mr. Haly about insurance, but Mr. Haly just yelled at him. I saw him again later that night…leaving the tent.” 

Bruce didn’t prompt him anymore, just bit his thumb anxiously. 

The Titans watched Black pace back and forth, a scene playing out in his head. 

It was then that Bruce was finally able to see the tattoo covering his back. He clenched his teeth in anger, but said nothing. 

“I told my dad that I saw him earlier, threatening Mr. Haly, but he told me not to worry about it. So I didn’t. I trust him. So we went to perform as usual, and I had to wait for my cue—” he halted mid step, his eyes blew open wide. “The rope.” He turned towards his friends, but didn’t look at them. Instead, it seemed like he was looking right through them. “I saw it fray and—” 

The Titans then witnessed the horrific sight of their friend become absolutely unraveled. Grief built up and flowed out as he screamed, wailed, howled, and fell to his knees, weeping. He slammed his fists against the table, utterly overwhelmed with anguish. “MOMMY! DADDY!” he shrieked as the tears just kept coming. 

Bruce knelt at his side. “I’m sorry, Dick.” 

Black lashed out, grabbing Bruce by the collar and shaking. “Why the hell would you make me remember that!? Did you think I’d be happier knowing they’re gone?!” 

Bruce, only mildly disturbed, covered Black’s hands with his own. “It’s been ten years. It doesn’t do anyone any good letting you believe that didn’t happen. I know it’s painful—”

“You don’t know anything! All you do is cause me pain! All you want to do is hurt me! Just like the Masters!” 

Bruce squeezed his hands tighter, making him look up. “I saw my parents die too,” he snapped. “And I saw your parents die, Dick. I was there that day.”  

“I’m not Dick!” He screamed. “Why can't everyone just see me for who I am?! MY NAME IS BLACK! Like darkness! Darkness is eternal, uncatchable, unlimited, and invincible! Black can do anything! Black can do everything Dick can't! Everything he couldn't!”

“Pretending to be someone you're not isn’t going to bring your parents back.” 

Black pried his fingers off of Bruce and fell back onto his butt. With tear soaked cheeks, he looked around the room, meeting the sympathetic gaze of all his friends. His eyes were wide and glassy, full of fear and uncertainty. He clearly had no idea what he was supposed to do. In a small voice, he turned back to Bruce and said, “can I at least have my medicine back now?” 

Bruce shook his head. “Not yet. Do you remember what I said earlier? We’re making an antidote so that you won’t need the medicine anymore. Won’t that be nice? Not having to pay attention to when you took your meds? Not having to be afraid of feeling that pain?” 

Black held out his hands in front of him, studying them. His brows furrowed, as if the calluses hid a secret message he was trying to decode. “What’s wrong with me?” He asked it like he wanted a diagnosis.

“Why don’t you tell us?” Bruce asked. “We can’t begin to understand until we know what you went through.” 

“Oh no…no I can’t…I can’t talk about that…” He began to get emotional again. “You don’t want to hear about it.” 

“I do, actually. And I think talking about it will help. Whatever you can share.” 

Black looked unsure, and hunched his shoulders. He rolled up to be on the balls of his feet, and placed a hand on the table, ready to bolt. 

Instead, Starfire took the initiative to scoop him off the floor and placed him on the couch next to her. She rested an arm around his shoulder and pet his hair. “There there, dear friend. You may share safely now.” 

Black swallowed thickly, and did not relax, but he didn’t seem prepared to bolt. 

“I…can’t remember.” 

“You’ve repressed a lot of that, which is understandable,” Bruce placed a hand on his knee. But, what can you remember? What are your first memories?” 

“It…smelled bad.” He began. “It was dark and dirty. There was another boy there, but he didn’t say anything, or move much. Just laid on that bed all still.” 

The others recoiled slightly as they understood what he was saying. 

“Then sometimes, there was another boy. He talked to me and tried to keep me from hurting myself. He was kinda a bully.” 

“What did this boy look like?” Starfire asked. 

“I dunno. Never saw him. I only heard his voice.”

“Like through a speaker?”

“Nah, in my noggin’. Sometimes I still hear him. It’s like this little voice that’s like, ‘eeuuu don’t eat that, you don’t know where it’s been’. He’s kind of annoying and persistent, but I think he’s keeping me alive.” 

Bruce sucked in a breath. “That’s your conscience. Robin’s conscience. That’s your guide. Once we make the antidote for you, it will become a lot easier for you to behave normally.” 

He seemed to clam up then, twining his fingers together into a tight knot. “That’s all I got,” he said firmly.

“So why don’t you try to relax? The fentanyl will run its course through your system, and then the pain will come. We’ll try to make you comfortable, and once we think it’s out of your system, we’ll take a blood test. Then we’ll get you a new dose and keep you dosed until you don’t need it anymore.” He reached out and touched his shoulder. “Think you can handle that?” 

“No, but you said I don’t have a choice.” 

Bruce just gave him a little pat, not having any words of comfort. 

“Perhaps,” said Starfire. “At any point you do remember what happened while you were being held captive, you could tell me in private? It is sometimes hard to divulge things openly and honestly.” 

“I’ll think about it,” said Black. “I kinda feel like the proverbial rug was pulled out from under my proverbial feet. If you know what I proverbial mean.” 

“Not even slightly.” 

“Things will begin to make sense soon,” Bruce assured. “Just try to stay calm.” 

“Perhaps some lunch will ease you?” Alfred asked, standing. 

“Ooo! La-gas-na! It’s spaghetti in cake form!” 

—

They were able to keep him occupied for several hours. They watched Robin’s favorite movies, told him stories of their villains. Some went over better than others.  

As the day went on, they all witnessed the major veins on his body turn darker and more visible. As night came, he became more agitated and snippy. He whined and moaned as he moved around, but seemed to be trying to ignore it for everyone else’s sake. 

Then it was time for bed. 

“Come and get me when it becomes too painful,” Bruce instructed. “Then we’ll check your levels and see if we can take a test.” 

Black didn’t look convinced, but begrudgingly agreed. 

Starfire stayed up late. In the last few months, peaceful sleep hadn’t been guaranteed or expected. So she sat up reading to clear her head. 

What was she reading? A psychology book, provided by Raven. At first, Starfire had hoped it would give her enough information that she could be helpful in diagnosing her friend. But the more she read, the more lost she became. The human mind was complex and strange, capable of bizarre changes from seemingly simple affects. 

But the book was still interesting and just boring enough to make her sleepy. 

A knock at the door grabbed her attention immediately. 

“Yes?” 

“It’s me,” said Black’s voice. “Are ya decent?” 

“Yes Black. You may enter.” 

The door slid open, and he stood in the entry for a moment, wringing his hands. His hair was a mess and he looked worse than he had all day. 

“What brings you here at this hour?” 

“I…couldn’t sleep,” he answered, haltingly. “The pain is getting worse. So I was walking the halls. I saw your light on…” 

“I understand. Would you like to come in and talk?” 

“Are you busy?” 

She closed the book and shook her head. “No. I was only reading to clear my thoughts. I would not turn down your company.” 

He shuffled inside, glancing around the room. He had been in here once before, as Black, though he would never tell her that. 

“You can sit, if you’d like.” She patted the mattress. 

He did so, and brought his legs up so that he could rest his arms on his knees. “You said, earlier, if I wanted to talk about what happened, I could come to you.” 

“Yes, that offer still stands.” 

“I lied earlier. I remember all of it. The very beginning is hazy, but things become clearer after a certain point. The medicine makes it easy for me to block it out, but without it…” 

“I will listen to whatever you are willing to share, if you do not mind if I take notes?” 

“Are you gonna tell Bunny Man?” 

“Only the things that I think he needs to know. I can keep secrets as well.” 

He didn’t ask her permission to recline, just assumed the position of a patient in a therapy session, lying on a couch, hands folded over his stomach. 

Starfire retrieved her notebook she had been using with the psychology textbook. 

As far as she had seen, Black lacked the capacity to be serious in most situations. He was either goofing around, or violently unpredictable. So when he started speaking, his voice deeper than usual and tone focused, she almost thought Robin was at the helm. He took a deep breath and said, “have you ever heard of Tartarus?” 

“…that is…of the Greek Myth?” 

“Yes. It’s a deep abyss that is used as a dungeon for the wicked. I can only assume that’s where I was born. It might have been Hell, but I was under the belief that Hell had fire. This place was cold. Sometimes cold enough to see your breath. It’s a kind of cold that makes you numb after a while. You think about snuggling up to the people around you, but then you think about who they are, and you decide against it.” While he said this, his face remained eerily calm.

“There were 20 of us originally, though I only remember about 15. We had no names. Only numbers. I was number 8. I’m sure some boys tried to introduce themselves, but the Masters were quick to chastise. We weren’t people. We weren’t anything. There would be no mercy or kindness, nobody cared about each other. We were all enemies.” 

Starfire scribbled this all down, eyes only flicking to the paper momentarily as she wanted Black to feel like he was receiving her full attention. 

“They had us wear these short, thin shirts that tied in the back. Everyone’s asses were hanging out. Most of the day, they put us in a room with three beds, and we had to fight for them. One guy had his eye poked out in the chaos. Then other nights they put us in a tight space that was even colder than the normal room, and we had to huddle together to stay warm. One time I woke up and nudged the guy next to me...but he was dead. Frozen to death. Other guys lost fingers and toes on those nights.”

Starfire swallowed thickly, a pang to the heart. 

“They marched us to a bathroom once a day. They stripped us and tied chains to our feet and put bags over our heads…then we walked blindly for a long time. Then we were told to do our business, still with the bags on and chained to each other. There was only one bathroom break, so if you had to go, it was then that you did it. Otherwise you had to hold it or crap in the corner. We collected filth on our feet and legs and everything smelled. But after a while…we kind of got used to it. Then new smells would emerge. Smells of rot and infection. 

“They humiliated us...called us names, made us feel like animals. They worked us too, made us carry weights for long periods of time, and made us hold our hands over our heads for hours. With the shirts we wore, raising your arms exposed everything. And they’d take the time to emasculate us. They would beat us for punishment, and chastise us verbally…using profanity that would make a sailor blush. They pointed out our flaws and made us feel weak and useless. I have scars on my scars from them. Then if you said anything wrong, you were put into solitary confinement, The Hole. Then they beat the other prisoners outside of The Hole, and you could hear their screams of pain…the other boys hit the door and shouted out profanity and said how much they hated whoever was in the hole for getting them in trouble.”

“Were you ever put in the hole?”

“Everyone was. I was doing pushups and singing Amazing Grace, when one of my Masters asked me why I was being so obedient. I told him I was obedient by nature, and he called me a liar…then he threw me in The Hole for four days.”

“Four days?!” Starfire was familiar with solitary confinement. Four days was a long time, even for her. 

“It was almost three, but my freedom depended on the other prisoners. The Masters said if everyone was willing to give up their blankets, I would be let out.”

“How many sacrificed?”

“None.”

It wasn’t all that surprising, but still sad. 

“There was one boy…he barricaded himself in the corner, using the bed, and he shouted and screamed and raved like a madman. Something about needing a doctor…So the Masters let him out and we all thought he was being set free. But when that door swung closed…we heard a gunshot and that was it.

“Like I said, the early days are the haziest. I’m sure there were whole days I don’t remember. But then…things got worse. It turned into real torture instead of abuse. One at a time, they would take a boy from the room and hours later, return with a bloody remnant of a shambling body. Some never came back.” 

Starfire watched as he raised his hand, seemingly scrutinizing the webbed surface. “I got taken twice. Both times I remember some things clearly, and some of it is completely blacked out.” 

He fell silent. 

“What happened?” She pried gently. 

“I don’t think I want to say it out loud.” 

Starfire took his hand. Very patiently and tenderly, she explained, “before I came to Earth, I was a prisoner on a slave ship of the Gordianians. Before that, I spent many months being experimented on by the Psions. If anyone can understand what it was like for you, I believe it is me.” 

He looked at her, lips pulled into a grimace. “What if you had it worse and I…I had this transformation that you didn’t?” 

“We all deal with trauma differently. I will not judge what you went through compared to myself. Just understand that I can handle whatever you may say. I may seem rather soft, but I am not.” 

He nodded and turned his head back to look at the ceiling. “I guess you are pretty tough. I like that about you, Starfire. Tough, with a soft facade.” 

She smiled a little. The compliment sounded like one of Robin’s. 

“I don’t know what the purpose of that chair was. Maybe they just wanted to cause pain? Or maybe there was something more to it? They found the perfect ways to cause pain. They cut just deep enough to hit all the nerves, and poured acid and alcohol into the wounds. They hammered needles under my nails and poured hot oil on my genitals. 

“I lost my voice screaming both times. The water was scarce and smelled like rotten eggs when they actually allowed us some.” 

Starfire silently wiped the tears from her face. She could handle what he was saying, but her heart was big and she empathized far too much. 

“One of the Masters laughed through it all. The other was silent. The laughing man had pure white skin and this horrible, evil smile. He thought my suffering was funny. The more I cried, the more joy he felt. I remember glancing down and seeing my naked body covered in blood, and asking for him to kill me. He just danced and clapped his hands with glee.” 

“That must have been the Joker,” Starfire guessed. “Batman said he was responsible for this.” 

Black seemed to mull this information over as he ran his tongue over his teeth. “Yeah,” he croaked. “That sounds familiar.” 

“What else do you remember?” She pried gently, hoping to maybe redirect him and keep him from shutting down.

“There was the food.” He acknowledged. “We started out on bread and water...and then over time they gave us meat. Just meat, no vegetables or even bread. It was boiled, but tasted like pork…and they let us eat as much as we wanted. I distinctly remember one boy eating so much that he puked…” Black swallowed deeply. “Then someone freaked out, because they realized they were chewing on a finger. And then we all found out that the boys who had died had not been buried…but we were eating them…”

Starfire covered her mouth in sickness. She had witnessed such things on the Gordianian ship. But to see one alien species eat another was not all that odd. But for one human to eat another? 

“Some cried. Others made themselves vomit. I just curled up in a corner and decided I would never eat again.”

“I understand your decision to not eat processed meat quite clearly now.” She tried to speak softly, but her voice held an edge. One belonging to someone with revenge on the mind.

Black brought his hands up to his face. “They injected us with poison.” He continued. “I don’t know what it was, but it glowed green in the syringe and we could see it in our veins. It burned. I swear that’s how all of this happened. They shot us up three times daily. It had different effects on each of us. One boy dropped dead. Another started eating himself…bit the skin clear off his arm. Most of them, though, just vomited blood and died.”

Starfire watched in amazement as Black relayed his story with no emotion on his face. As for her, she was white-knuckling a pillow, trying to keep her anger in check.

“Sometimes at night, if I listened just hard enough…I could hear singing. I think it came from my own mind, my subconscious. But it was the most wonderful thing I had heard in the world.”

She had always known Robin enjoyed listening to music. It wasn’t uncommon for the boombox in the ops room to be on when he was around. Even when he was in his office doing research, orchestral music could faintly be heard, likely to fill the silence. 

With some sort of music often playing around him, it wasn’t hard to imagine he’d subconsciously sing to comfort himself. 

She noted this observation and theory down on her notepad and then looked to Black to ask him further questions…only to find him already asleep. 

It was a little flattering, seeing that talking to her relaxed him so much that he fell asleep. 

With a smile, she draped a blanket over him. As she got close, she got a whiff of his deodorant. He smelled like Robin again, and not the foul stench of death and rot. He smelled clean, with a hint of a musky spice. The scent of hair gel was missing though. 

She contemplated going to sleep in his room, or even the Ops room, but in the end, she decided to stay. Shyly, she scooted closer to him so she could feel a bit of his body heat. 

He mumbled in his sleep and shifted, bringing his leg over to touch hers. 

She blushed wildly. 

Eventually, she calmed down enough to feel sleep coming for her as well. Her eyes were heavy and despite the horrors he had shared with her, she felt rather at ease and soon drifted off to sleep, forehead lightly resting against his arm.

[persephoneandherhades]

I cant emphasize this enough. IF YOU THINK AT ALL EVER THAT YOU MIGHT MAYBE HAVE SLEEP APNEA, GET TESTED.

I have been dealing with sleep issues for so many years, at least since my early teens. I legitimately thought it was just depression fucking with me. And yeah depression played its part. However as i found out several months ago, it was far from the only reason. I snore, all night and very loudly. Someone told me that if you snore really loudly you might have sleep apnea so i talked to my doctor about it. I wasnt totally convinced so we did a take home pulseox monitor test to see if my readings over night might indicate if it was possible. It was very much possible. I am now convinced so i agree to an overnight sleep study in the hospital. the whole shabang. They put electrodes or whatever all over my body and i slept. I got up, checked out. They said ur doc will be in touch with your results and sent me on my way.

In my personal experience, nothing in the medical world works quickly unless death is on the line and sometimes not even then. So i was more than a little surprised and concerned when i got a call from the sleep doctor's office affiliated with the hospital i was tested at only a few hours later. They scheduled me an appointment to come in and discuss next steps and the appointment was so soon, i knew they squeezed me in because no doctors in my area have availability that quickly. I go to the appointment and im very nervous and this very concerned woman started explaining more about sleep apnea and my results.

The average adult stops breathing 3-5 times a night. I stopped breathing 117 times in 1 HOUR.

Do you know what its like to be told you are basically fighting for your life in your sleep every night? Its TERRIFYING. This poor woman was horrified on my behalf and ordered a cpap machine for me. Unfortunately due to the supply chain issues, cpap machines had months long wait list. So when i was laid off work a month later causing me to loose my health insurance, i wasnt even close to getting a machine. So i get a new job and wait the 3 months to get insurance and start the process of finding doctors that my new insurance will cover. So now 5 months after my sleep study i am sitting in another sleep doctors office. I hand this man the papers detailing my sleep study and watch the blood drain from his face while he reads.

If you have never scared a doctor before I wouldn't recommend it.

This poor man sees that i have been waiting to get a cpap machine for 5 months and puts in the order for one. While he is putting in the order he is trying very hard to be casual while asking me questions that boil down to how the fuck do function normally? How can you drive a car without falling asleep at the wheel? I then have to admit that i have been compensating for extreme exhaustion since i was a teenager so its all very normal for me now. I thank him for his time and go about my day.

This doctor let me know that the wait for a cpap now is about 3 weeks so im already happy, like that is sooo much shorter than it was 5 months ago. He says the home health equipment office will call me when my machine comes in.

I got the call from the home health office that same day. Turns out i horrified that sleep doctor so much that he put a rush on my cpap order so i got bumped to the front of the list. I had my machine 2 days later.

I have had this thing for 3 weeks now and i cant describe how amazing i feel. I am used to waking up at least a dozen times a night, now its only once or twice. Im used to having trouble keeping my eyes open long enough to turn off my alarm clock in the morning and i am used to making myself keep moving so i dont instantly fall back asleep. Now i am awake and alert when my alarm goes off. I dont wake up already exhausted anymore. I learned early in my driving life that i have to listen to audiobooks in the car to keep my mind engaged enough to not start to fall asleep at the wheel. For the first time in years i was able to just listen to music in the car and not start nodding off. I haven't needed to take a nap after work even once.

I have been told that i might not notice changes until after the first month with the machine so i am so excited about what else might change because of this machine. I cried actual tears the other day because of it.

It has already changed my day to day life significantly. The machine is so small for the miracle it has already given me. I cant even hear it when its on. I have a fan on at night and the machine is quieter than my fan.

Getting tested is so so worth it. The benefit to your life could be so significant.

I have other things that i need to take care of for my health but taking care of this one has made it easier to work on the others.

If you think you might have it, get tested.

[hinny-canons]

@corneliaavenue-ao3 ‘s Several Sunlit Daylights

Evermore: no body, no crime (feat. HAIM)

Ginny came back from her dinner with her friend Este. Harry was just sitting in the living of their new house, reading a book that Ginny told him to read. Or forced him, he wasn’t sure. He heard the door open went to the entrance.

“Hey,” he greeted her with a kiss. “How was it?”

“It was fine,” she said, looking rather worried.

Harry furrowed his brows. “What’s wrong?”

Ginny took a deep breath. “Este’s been worried about some stuff.”

“Like what?”

“She think her husband is cheating on her.”

Harry blinked. “What?” Harry had met the guy before. He seemed very nice and treated Este well. He was shocked.

“She said she looked through their joint account, some Muggle bank thing, and found jewellery that wasn’t hers. And he comes back home with his hair a mess and even his shirt was once untied.”

“Oh, it smells like infidelity.”

Ginny nodded. “I think we should help her. We have to do something, she looks stressed.”

Harry agreed with her and Ginny told him some things that definitely screamed cheater. There wasn’t any doubt, he thinks they have to call him out.

I think he did it, but I just can’t prove it.

The next week, when Ginny called Este to meet up again, she didn’t pick up. Ginny got very worried and told Harry. She saw that Harry also looked confused.

“Do you think something happened?” Ginny asked anxiously.

“I hope not.”

Ginny then got the news from Este’s ‘husband’ that she was missing and Ginny’s heart shattered. She got see a glint in her husband’s eye that wasn’t tears or worry. There was just nothing.

This irked Ginny more than she cared to admit.

One day she was walking past his house and saw his car had some brand new tires. However, that wasn’t the only thing she noticed when she saw his bedroom window was open and she could see a girl that was definitely not Este.

Ginny’s heart stopped and she felt her anger rising. She hurried back home to Harry.

She burst through the door and Harry jumped.

“He did it! Este’s husband did it! I saw him with another girl!”

Harry stood up straight. “We have to do something, Ginny.”

“We just need to prove it.”

I think he did it, but I just can’t prove it.

Good thing Harry and Ginny are trained to handle bad guys. They have their wands on them and their cloaks ready with every spell in their mind.

Good thing they’ve cleaned enough houses to know how to cover up a scene.

Good thing Este’s sister’s gonna swear she was with us. She’s in on it.

Good thing his mistress took out a big life insurance policy.

They enter his house stealthily, quietly, trying not to cause much disturbance. They stayed close to each other and went upstairs to their bedroom where Little Mister Cheater was staying.

He yelled when he saw them with wands out and anger on their faces.

“Don’t yell, no one can hear you,” Ginny said, annoyed. “So bloody loud.” Harry chuckled at her.

“What are you doing in my house!?” He asked, scared.

“To avenge our best friend,” Harry started. “Este.” All the colour drained from his face.

“By killing you,” Ginny smiled. Harry couldn’t help but grin at her. She was dangerous.

The Cheater started breathing heavily. “Ugh, please don’t freak out this is gonna take longer.” Ginny said sitting on the bed.

“We still have to torture you.” Harry shot a spell at him which made him fall to the ground in pain.

“Nice one, darling,” Ginny said, getting up. “My turn.” She pointed her wand at him and came closer and shot another one.

He lie there, squirming in pain, begging for mercy, all that boring stuff. “Someone needs to shut you up,” Harry said.

“Ooh, can I?” Ginny asked.

“Of course,” Harry said, putting his hand under her chin. Her turned to the Cheater on the floor. “My gorgeous wife over here is gonna finish you off. Have fun in hell.”

Ginny laughed and pointed the wand at him again. “Bye-bye,” she waved and then he was gone.

Once they were back in the house, Harry turned to Ginny. “You’re so dangerous. Smiling while torturing someone.”

“He deserved it,” she said.

“He did. Not to mention you looked beautiful today.” He got closer to her.

Ginny laughed. “I bet you like how dangerous I am.”

“Oh, I do.”

Kiss after kiss after kiss. Este’s avenged, her husband’s finally dead and his mistress is being blamed for it.

Perfect.

She thinks I did it, but she just can’t prove it.

[seahorse-dad-in-training]

The Newborn Stage

People often talk about how the newborn stage was "so easy" but I really have to disagree with that! The Newborn stage is a lot of work and is a time where you're drastically changing your schedule and honestly not getting a lot of sleep. It also can include when post partum anxiety and depression can be at its highest.

Now, this isn't meant to scare anyone! What I'm gonna talk about is my realistic experience without romanticizing any of it.

The Newborn stage has been the hardest on me so far, even with kiddo teething now and being clingy as a result, the newborn stage was unbelievably difficult for me personally.

In this stage, you have to feed your baby every 2-3 hours (which can be more frequent if a baby has certain health conditions but this is the average). Babies do not typically sleep through the night at this stage, so sleep is difficult to achieve. The first few weeks rendered me not able to sleep at all, to the point I was having auditory hallucinations. I had awful post partum anxiety. My baby had severe acid reflux and they'd stop breathing and freak out, causing me to freak out as a result. Now we later learned my baby has a milk allergy which was causing the severe reflux, so it isn't a problem anymore.

Between battling with insurance to get them covered, my doctor's office trying to tell me I'd have to pay for my child to be seen (not true! Newborns in my area are supposed to have billing go to a specific thing before insurance starts to work), the reflux, healing, and PP issues, it was hectic!

The thing I didn't keep in mind though, was that it's TEMPORARY! I had a very hard time focusing on the fact that this stage is temporary. It's hard when they don't do much other than cry, eat, poop, and sleep. Of course those skin to skin snuggles definitely helps get through it, though.

Don't feel like a bad parent if you're struggling through this stage.

I gave up on pumping very early on into this...I needed to rest, I needed to sleep, and my breasts being very large compared to before was giving me dysphoria on top of it all. I switched to formula by the second or third week.

No matter how much you think you're prepared as a first time parent, it's definitely difficult. But it's so so so worth it!! Because within the next few months you're going to have a baby that genuinely smiles at you, that stares at you intently, that wants to start interacting with people and objects 💜 they start to roll over and lift their head. It gradually feels more and more fulfilling.

[daddywarbats]

So heart attacks and cardiac bullshit can feel vastly different for everyone and also, for extra giggles, not always the same on the next go around.

Since Cardiac Bullshit happens to happen with frequency, not present as "typical" (read: probably defined by a study that wasn't sufficiently diverse in gender or ethnicity) and usually comes attached to a stubborn patient in my house, I've taken a take no prisoners approach.

Ask yourself these questions:

Is it different than normal aches and pains?

Is it bad enough that you are worried?

Are you worried enough that you think it needs to be checked out?

A yes to these is a fucking get on the horn and call for a ride to the hospital. It’s not a “wait and see” kind of situation - every minute you wait and see is more damage. Grab your phone, a charger, your ID and Insurance card* - do not take a shower or have a snack, ain’t nobody got time for that. The paramedics do not care of you look presentable. I can guarantee they’ve seen people covered in feces and urine, so you'll be fine with day old hair.

Do not drive yourself. Do not have someone else drive you. If you crash and bottom out in a car, it will be BAD. Trust me, you do not want to have someone doing CPR on you in the backseat of a car - it is traumatizing for everyone involved.** You don’t want to be waiting for the paramedics to find you.

And yeah even if the hospital is five minutes down the road and it’s 2 am. The ambulance is safest and doubly so if you’re sitting there with an atypical presentation, like “this is a bad flu” (except it’s not and your body just is going apeshit trying to figure out how to handle a cardiac event).

You can catch a heart attack before it goes totally catastrophic - they throw warning signs (you may notice you just don’t feel right first or you’re more tired from simple things that don’t normally make you tired). And ideally you want to catch it early - early is good, early is less damage to you. It can be the difference between a trip to the cardiac cath lab and them cracking your chest open.

This also applies to other cardiac bullshit, like pericardial effusion, wherein your heart is basically being choked on fluid flooding it’s safety casing. It definitely doesn’t always present as pain in your chest or like heart attack symptoms. It may do some horseshit called “referred pain” and set off nerves in your jaw, shoulder, or light up your clavicle like a giant straw goat. It will not be normal pain: it will be like a cattle prod. A lot of times, your first warning sign is not being able to breathe right or being uncomfortable unless you’re sitting up or lying on your right side.

Neat trick, though, about pericardial effusion: you lie flat on your back on your bed or the floor. If you roll to your right and the pain lessens, but returns or worsens when you roll back to flat on your back or roll to the left, you likely have gunk in your pericardium. Rolling to the right actually causes the fluid to slosh off your heart, which is why you feel some relief. If this is going on? Get thee to a fucking hospital posthaste, cause you are in Serious Trouble.

Anyway, general rule: if you are remotely suspicious, get that shit checked out!

Half the time, you know in your gut when something is Not Right or Not Normal. Trust that instinct. Get it checked. Be the squeaky wheel.

Could it be nothing? Sure!

Do you want to take the chance it’s not? No.

* If you're chronically ill and prone to Weird Health Problems, it's also a good idea to pre-pack a Go Bag with things like an extra charger, a comfort favorite book or two, at least one change of underwear and comfy soft pants. This bag is your hospitalization buddy and you can just pick it up and go without worrying about having to pack anything. It takes that load off your brain. The simple joy of comfy pants is something that will make you feel marginally more human in a situation where you generally feel like twice run over roadkill.

** Yes, there is a story there. Being lost in the middle of nowhere with no cell service and someone whose heart keeps stopping is awful. -10/10 do not recommend, all of us except the patient in question are still working it out in therapy, twenty years after the fact.

A nurse has heart attack and describes what she felt like when having one

I am an ER nurse and this is the best description of this event that I have ever heard. 

 FEMALE HEART ATTACKS 

 I was aware that female heart attacks are different, but this is description is so incredibly visceral that I feel like I have an entire new understanding of what it feels like to be living the symptoms on the inside. Women rarely have the same dramatic symptoms that men have… you know, the sudden stabbing pain in the chest, the cold sweat, grabbing the chest & dropping to the floor the we see in movies. Here is the story of one woman’s experience with a heart attack: 

 "I had a heart attack at about 10:30 PM with NO prior exertion, NO prior emotional trauma that one would suspect might have brought it on. I was sitting all snugly & warm on a cold evening, with my purring cat in my lap, reading an interesting story my friend had sent me, and actually thinking, ‘A-A-h, this is the life, all cozy and warm in my soft, cushy Lazy Boy with my feet propped up. A moment later, I felt that awful sensation of indigestion, when you’ve been in a hurry and grabbed a bite of sandwich and washed it down with a dash of water, and that hurried bite seems to feel like you’ve swallowed a golf ball going down the esophagus in slow motion and it is most uncomfortable. You realize you shouldn’t have gulped it down so fast and needed to chew it more thoroughly and this time drink a glass of water to hasten its progress down to the stomach. This was my initial sensation–the only trouble was that I hadn’t taken a bite of anything since about 5:00 p.m. 

After it seemed to subside, the next sensation was like little squeezing motions that seemed to be racing up my SPINE (hind-sight, it was probably my aorta spasms), gaining speed as they continued racing up and under my sternum (breast bone, where one presses rhythmically when administering CPR). This fascinating process continued on into my throat and branched out into both jaws. ‘AHA!! NOW I stopped puzzling about what was happening – we all have read and/or heard about pain in the jaws being one of the signals of an MI happening, haven’t we? I said aloud to myself and the cat, Dear God, I think I’m having a heart attack! I lowered the foot rest dumping the cat from my lap, started to take a step and fell on the floor instead. I thought to myself, If this is a heart attack, I shouldn’t be walking into the next room where the phone is or anywhere else… but, on the other hand, if I don’t, nobody will know that I need help, and if I wait any longer I may not be able to get up in a moment. 

I pulled myself up with the arms of the chair, walked slowly into the next room and dialed the Paramedics… I told her I thought I was having a heart attack due to the pressure building under the sternum and radiating into my jaws. I didn’t feel hysterical or afraid, just stating the facts. She said she was sending the Paramedics over immediately, asked if the front door was near to me, and if so, to un-bolt the door and then lie down on the floor where they could see me when they came in. I unlocked the door and then laid down on the floor as instructed and lost consciousness, as I don’t remember the medics coming in, their examination, lifting me onto a gurney or getting me into their ambulance, or hearing the call they made to St. Jude ER on the way, but I did briefly awaken when we arrived and saw that the radiologist was already there in his surgical blues and cap, helping the medics pull my stretcher out of the ambulance. He was bending over me asking questions (probably something like ‘Have you taken any medications?’) but I couldn’t make my mind interpret what he was saying, or form an answer, and nodded off again, not waking up until the Cardiologist and partner had already threaded the teeny angiogram balloon up my femoral artery into the aorta and into my heart where they installed 2 side by side stints to hold open my right coronary artery. 

I know it sounds like all my thinking and actions at home must have taken at least 20-30 minutes before calling the paramedics, but actually it took perhaps 4-5 minutes before the call, and both the fire station and St Jude are only minutes away from my home, and my Cardiologist was already to go to the OR in his scrubs and get going on restarting my heart (which had stopped somewhere between my arrival and the procedure) and installing the stents. Why have I written all of this to you with so much detail? Because I want all of you who are so important in my life to know what I learned first hand. 

1. Be aware that something very different is happening in your body, not the usual men’s symptoms but inexplicable things happening (until my sternum and jaws got into the act). It is said that many more women than men die of their first (and last) MI because they didn’t know they were having one and commonly mistake it as indigestion, take some Maalox or other anti-heartburn preparation and go to bed, hoping they’ll feel better in the morning when they wake up… which doesn’t happen. My female friends, your symptoms might not be exactly like mine, so I advise you to call the Paramedics if ANYTHING is unpleasantly happening that you’ve not felt before. It is better to have a ‘false alarm’ visitation than to risk your life guessing what it might be! 2. Note that I said ‘Call the Paramedics.’ And if you can take an aspirin. Ladies, TIME IS OF THE ESSENCE! Do NOT try to drive yourself to the ER - you are a hazard to others on the road. Do NOT have your panicked husband who will be speeding and looking anxiously at what’s happening with you instead of the road. Do NOT call your doctor – he doesn’t know where you live and if it’s at night you won’t reach him anyway, and if it’s daytime, his assistants (or answering service) will tell you to call the Paramedics. He doesn’t carry the equipment in his car that you need to be saved! The Paramedics do, principally OXYGEN that you need ASAP. Your Dr. will be notified later. 3. Don’t assume it couldn’t be a heart attack because you have a normal cholesterol count. Research has discovered that a cholesterol elevated reading is rarely the cause of an MI (unless it’s unbelievably high and/or accompanied by high blood pressure). MIs are usually caused by long-term stress and inflammation in the body, which dumps all sorts of deadly hormones into your system to sludge things up in there. Pain in the jaw can wake you from a sound sleep. Let’s be careful and be aware. The more we know the better chance we could survive to tell the tale.“

Reblog, repost, Facebook, tweet, pin, email, morse code, fucking carrier pigeon this to save a life! I wish I knew who the author was. I’m definitely not the OP, actually think it might be an old chain email or even letter from back in the day. The version I saw floating around Facebook ended with “my cardiologist says mail this to 10 friends, maybe you’ll save one!” And knew this was way too interesting not to pass on.