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#like I really feel like the 'this has to last several days' order was made without considering that I ran out of what I normally eat
david-watts · 11 months
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my grandmother is upset with me because I had to order food for lunch partially for a reason I won’t get into but. her expectation that the remaining bread has to last for several days isn’t inclusive of three people. and I would rather get yelled at for daring to have a sandwich with vegetables in it rather than jam, which I hate anyway, than getting yelled at for being a pig for eating the bread. anyway complaints about that aside she’s pissed at me and prepared food for me anyway. without asking. because she’s mad. and I feel like it’s a trap. whatever move I make is going to result in yelling and considering that I can’t win and every outcome I can see is going to result in me wanting to kill myself and her feeling vindicated because she thinks she’s the victim. I hate it here
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watermelonlovershigh · 3 months
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another sickfic/period prompt.. living together as friends/housemates and H finds her on the floor in the night feeling really sick from her period and sits with her + helps her out 🥲 changes her sheets for her, rubs her back and just holds her on the floor with a blanket round them. she's absolutely mortified with no choice but to be accepting of his help and all he wants to do is make her feel a little better :(
Period Cramps Are No Fun {part 1.} (housemate!harry series)
AN: thank you for this request. it's not exactly as the request said but i hope it's close enough. and i normally don't write harry as anything other than y/n's lover but made an exception with this story. please share your feedback with me and let me know how you liked it. enjoy. xoxoxoxo
This story contains: small period leak, severe period cramping, puking due to period cramps, crying due to pain and embarrassment, mentions of sex toys, comfort, fluff
{ housemate!harry - friend!harry - softrry - any harry era - au!harry }
word count- 1,956
You wake up in the middle of the night with severe period cramps and when your housemate and friend Harry happens to wake up for a glass of water, he sees you on the bathroom floor crying and has no choice but to be by your side and comfort you.
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You were looking to be someones flatmate or housemate. You'd put offer after offer online and one day a guy named Harry accepted your offer. He had a pretty nice townhouse in London and from his brief description of himself, seemed to be an alright guy. You didn't want to move in with some lazy scumbag and you'd come to find Harry is the opposite of that.
He's probably the cleanest guy you've ever met. He enjoys keeping things organized and loves to keep the house smelling fresh with candles on every shelf and table. And you get along quite nicely. You'd even go as far to say over the six months of living in his townhouse that you've become friends.
Doing things friends do such as order take-out food together, watch movies on the couch, paint each others nails, share juicy details about your love lives (or lack thereof). Harry is a very fun guy to be around and if you're being honest with yourself, you'd say you've developed a slight crush on him. I mean how could you not? He has nearly all the characteristics of what every woman's ideal man would have. Physical characteristics and things through the actions he does.
Now even though you've became great friends over the six months of living here, there is still stuff you try to keep private. For instance, your periods. Harry's not dumb and obviously knows you get a period. Mainly from seeing your sanitary products under the bathroom sink or in the bin by the toilet. You don't try to keep your periods a secret, just private.
And though Harry knows you get periods, as do most females, he has yet to see the bad side of your periods. The periods that make you sob on the bathroom floor from the amount of pain your cramps are causing. The periods that make you nausous and throw up. Luckily those periods aren't a monthly thing but they do happen a few times a year for whatever reason and it sucks.
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Late last night as you and Harry were watching a movie on his sofa, you began to feel crampy in your lower stomach. You asked if he could pause the film while you went to the bathroom down the hall and he agreed. And that's when you realized your period had came and you'd leaked. It's not a bad leak but it's enough for you to need to change your underwear and your shorts. Which the shorts barely had any blood on them but still called for a fresh pair.
Once you got yourself situated, you returned to the living room where the first thing Harry commented on is your changed clothes. "Did you change your shorts or somethin'?"
Quickly, you answered, "Yeah, my period started and I kinda leaked. Okay, you can press play on the movie."
Harry nodded sympathetically but followed your orders. He would have said something else to try and comfort you but knew you prefered to keep your periods more private. He doesn't understand why though. All women get periods. It's not something you should be ashamed of and he wished you'd understand that.
Now it's four in the morning and you're woken up to what feels like the worst period cramps of your whole life. Fuck, you scream in your head, it's gonna be one of those months. The longer you lay in bed the more nausous you began to feel from how painful your cramps are and that leads to you stumbling out of bed and rushing to the bathroom down the hall.
After what felt like an eternity, you made it to the bathroom and literally crawled on the floor over to the toilet. Now that you're in the bathroom you feel less nauseous but the pain is still in full force. That's when the tears start flowing. With your back against the wall and your knees up to your chest, sobs roll out your body as you fight against the waves of your uterus contracting to release its lining.
Harry is a heavy sleeper and usually don't wake up unless someone outwardly calls his name or pushes him awake. What wakes him up right now though is a dry mouth and a craving for a glass of water. So he gets out of bed and heads to the kitchen. But before he can even make it to the kitchen, he hears what sounds like crying coming from the hall bathroom.
Rushing over to the bathroom door, the sight before him breaks his heart. You didn't have the strength to shut the door so from the hall, Harry sees you sobbing in front of the toilet, back against the wall, and a hand clutching your stomach. "Oh, Y/n," he steps inside, "what's the matter?"
You slowly lift your head and the first thought in your mind was you didn't want him to see you like this. This was too embarrassing and you were too vulnerable at the moment. "Harry, go. Don't look at me."
Taken back by your words, Harry retorts in concern, "Not until you tell me what's wrong. Are you sick? Why're cryin'?"
Realising it's no use to deny your housemates help in your condition, you answer through the pain and tears, "My.....my cramps are SO bad. It hurts so much, H...Harry. *sob* It's making me feel so sick."
Harry frowns sympathetically and kneels down beside you in just his boxer briefs, which is his usual sleep attire. He would have covered up a bit more if he'd known this is what he was going to be walking into on his trip for a glass of water. As soon as he kneels down, you get the real urge to puke.
You push yourself off the wall and hang your head over the toilet. A harsh dry heave leaves your mouth that makes him cringe but nothing more, yet. Harry quickly scoots behind you and collects your hair with one hand and runs his other hand over your back. He doesn't know if you want to be touched right now but knows that when he's getting sick he finds that if someone rubs on his back it makes him feel a little better.
"Shhh," Harry whispers gently, "it's okay. You're okay. I've got you." He patiently waits until your feel better or actually get sick. After a few more jarring dry heaves, you end up throwing up in the toilet. And though the act feels like hell and is gross, you hope it will also relive the sickness your belly feels due to your period cramps.
You slowly lift your head up, taking deep breaths, and start crying again. This time not from the pain but from embarrassment. Harry's quick to ask, "Hey, what is it, Y/n? The cramps again?"
A little more coherently then the last time you spoke, you answer, "No. Just embarrassed. I threw up in front of you." That has Harry throwing his head back with a laugh.
"Y/n, I don't give a single fuck about you throwing up in front of me. Everyone gets sick from time to time. Just want to make sure you're alright. I hate that your period cramps are causin' you so much pain."
While subconsciously rubbing circles in your lower tummy, you ask desperately in a near whispered voice, "H, can you please go get me some pain medicine. It's in my bedside table drawer in my bedroom. Once I have that I think I'll feel better. At least for a couple of hours."
"Of course." Harry agrees and gets up off the bathroom floor to head to your bedroom. Once inside, he walks straight to your bedside table and opens the drawer to find your bottle of pain medication. While rummaging through to find the bottle, Harry tries to ignore the assortment of sex toys you have in there; bullet vibrator, dildo, clit sucker. Shit, this is the wrong time for him to get all hot and flustered at the thought of you using those under his roof.
He finally finds the bottle of pills and heads back to the bathroom where you still are. Within the time it took him to grab your medicine, you've stood up off the floor, flushed the toilet of course, and now sit on a closed toilet seat. Harry opens the bottle and asks, "How many? One or Two or....?"
"Two please." Harry hands you two tablets and grabs a paper cup used for rinsing your mouths out by the sink and fills it up with tap water. You carefully grab the small cup from his hands and take the pills with urgency, just wanting to be out of pain as soon as possible.
Once that's over with, Harry annonces, "Well, I'll let you get cleaned up in here and I'll be out there waiting for you."
"Okay, thank you." you respond gratefully. Harry really is the best housemate you could have asked for. While he's gone, you change out your tampon and brush the taste of vomit from your mouth. Then you exit the hall bathroom, ready to try and get a few more hours of sleep.
As you step inside your bedroom, you're taken back. Harry has managed to change your sheets and duvet, claiming a fresh pair will help you relax and hopefully sleep better. He's also set an actual glass of water on your nightstand, as well as plugged in his heating pad for you to use. "Harry....... what's all this?"
Nervously, because he doesn't know if this is all too much to do to someone who is just his housemate and friend, Harry replies, "Um, just wanted to make sure you come back to a comfy room. Hopefully you'll get a few more hours of sleep. And if you get thirsty or need to take more medicine, there's a glass of water there. Then my old heating pad that you can use across your tummy to also help with your cramps. Hope it's not too much."
You turn around with a small smile on your face and reach out to hug him. He's startled at first but soon relaxes and hugs you back. You hug for a minute before you break away first and mutter your appreciation. "No, this is great, Harry. Not too much at all. Thank you for your kindness tonight. And thank you for putting up with me in the bathroom. I know that wasn't a pretty sight. So yeah, just, thank you so much."
Looking down at you, Harry gets the urge to kiss you, but instead, says, "Y/n, it's no big deal, really. I would have helped anyone in that situation. Just want you to feel better s'all. Now get back into bed and around ten I'll wake up and make us a brunch. Sound good?"
"Yeah, sounds perfect." You crawl back into your bed that now has fresh sheets and maneuver the heating pad over your tummy. The pain medicine has begun to work but your uterus is still quite achy. As Harry turns around and heads out your door, you yell out, "Night." even though it's five in the morning by now.
"Night, Y/n." Harry speaks as well before slipping back into his bed across the hall. Now laying in your separate beds, all you can think about is how much you would have loved if Harry was in your bed cuddling you. And all Harry can think about is how much he wishes you were in his bed, so he could cuddle you. Maybe one day that day will come. But for now, you're just silly housemates that's turned into friends.
(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)
(no more tags are allowed because i've hit my number limit. sorry : ( )
tag list: @one-sweet-gubler // @harryscherrysugar // @hsfanficsrecss // @lollypopsx // @harrycanyonmoonn // @itfeelslikemytherapisthatesme // @damnasstyles  // @mrsstylesharry // @softmullet  // @meetmyblondemuffins  // @thegirlnextdoorssister // @stanleystyles  // @haarrrys // @michellekstyles  // @skyangel57   // @the-gardener-31 // @lhharrylilpumpkin // @yousunshine-youtemptress // @clairestylessss  // @kissmyaxe140  // @goldenmelonsugar-hi // @kaitieskidmore97 // @florencepughily  // @alienorknight //@dancearoundthelivingroom  // @swiftmendeshoran
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My Masterlist Masterpost
Arguments and Confessions {part 2.} (housemate!harry series)
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mediumgayitalian · 2 months
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The best part of being his own camp counsellor is that he can wake up whenever the fuck he likes.
Nico’s a fan.
Because, however, his dumb ass made friends with the camp’s head medic, he doesn’t get to sleep in as often as he would like. He is instead often woken up before the clock strikes nine, which is a tragedy and one of the forty thousand reasons he is going to be present on Will’s judgement day. (The scales tip any which way on a regular basis, but as of last week, Will is going to hell. Unfortunate. Nico’ll still visit him, though. Bring him one half of a twizzler or something.) So when he wakes up, one lovely morning, mouth tasting like something rotted in it and sun well past halfway across the sky, he is capital-C Concerned.
What a horrible tragedy that is. Finally, for the first time in months, he was able to sleep in. And his first thought is not gratitude. Solace may indeed have to die — Nico was not this way before he started planting his annoying ass front and centre in Nico’s life. He’s quite fairly certain he used to be frightening and badass. Now Will orders him to drink milk for the sake of his calcium and he does. Gods.
“Morning,” he hedges, approaching the archery range, feeling marginally more alive than twenty minutes prior.
Kayla raises an amused eyebrow. “Dude, it’s, like, two.”
“Well fuck you, then.”
She smirks. “Aw, did baby not get his Sunshine fix of the day? Is that why he’s so grumpy?”
It really sucks that Will is so fond of his siblings. Nico wonders if Will would still like him if he knew how many times he daydreams of transporting Kayla onto the moon per day.
“As soon as I figure out which god would appreciate you as a sacrifice, you’re gone.”
“Yeah, right,” she snorts, turning away and lining up an arrow. She lets it fly, watching as it shaves a splinter off a hunk of wood fifty feet away. “You couldn’t get close enough to kick my ass before I’d skewer you, di Angelo.”
Remembering the warning arrow Kayla had shot through his shoulder last week, he wisely chooses not to press the matter any further. The power visibly goes to her head. Fuck.
“Just — tell me where Will is.”
“Why?” She strings another arrow. The grin on her face is a level of shit-eating that Nico has only before seen on a Stoll. She should spend less time around Julia, or else the camp is in for some serious trouble. “What are your intentions with my dear brother?”
Nico, on principle, refuses to answer that question. Kayla shrugs, finishing her shot and then turning around to stick her tongue out at him.
“No answer, no location! Find him yourself, loverboy. And remember that I am always watching.”
Stomping away, and ignoring the smile twitching at his lips — she is so annoying, truly, gods above he owes Bianca a thousand apologies for ever opening his mouth — he heads towards the infirmary. There are only six locations Will is at any given time, after all, except when he disappears for several hours randomly but Nico doesn’t know how to bring that up yet. As he approaches the infirmary, though, he hears it absolutely blasting with music, like genuinely shaking the ground a little bit, and knows exactly where to find him.
As he approaches the door, wincing at the door, he finds it closed. Odd — Will likes a breeze when he works. Even odder is the hastily-written sign pasted onto it:
ANNUAL CLEAN OUT DAY. IF YOU NEED ME, TOUGH SHIT. IF YOU NEED A BANDAID, TOUGH SHIT. IF YOU’RE BLEEDING OUT, CALL AN AMBULANCE AND PRAY. I AM BUSY.
(‘Busy’ is underlined three times.)
In smaller print, under the all-caps monstrosity, is:
Unless you’re Nico, in which case disregard the previous sentiment. No, Cecil, this does NOT mean you.
The note is written again in Ancient Greek, Latin, Spanish, Portuguese, French, Mandarin, Italian, Polish, Korean, Morse Code, and another ten languages Nico can’t even name. Actually, wait — the top left is Klingon. And middle right note does not appear to be language, showing instead a poorly drawn stick figure in armour being shoved into a cannon and shot into the sun by another poorly drawn stick figure in a lab coat. Nico loves a man who’s multi-talented, indeed.
Hesitantly, Nico cracks open the door. He is immediately assaulted by a solid wall of sound, and then nearly bowled over by the enigma himself, William ‘I Can Restructure A Human Brain But Cannot Tie My Shoelaces’ Solace. He catches himself at the last second, and then barely manages to catch Will, grabbing him around the waist just before his head hits the floor.
“Nico!” he shouts over the music, smiling brightly. “Hi! You’re here!”
“I’m here.” He can physically feel his voice cracking, but luckily the music drowns it out. Hopefully. “Uh, what’re you doing?”
“Cleaning!” Will straightens up, although he stays within the circle of Nico’s arms. Nico tries real hard to keep his gaze firmly planted on his face and not on the hands he still has in his hips. “I do it once a year, kick everybody out and deep clean the place. Helps keep it fresh and minimize the bloodstains on the floor.”
“Ah. And the music…”
“It’s fun!” Will shouts. He gasps when the CD player skips and a new song comes on, heavy base and funky synths blasting so hard the window panes shake. “Oh my gods! I love this one!” He turns his bright grin at Nico full force, absolutely no holdbacks on the dimples or freckles, gods help him, and bows cheekily. “Can I have this dance, good sir?”
“It’s Britney Spears’ Outrageous,” Nico protests weakly.
“Yeah!”
…Very, very weakly.
“…Okay.”
Will whoops, grabbing his hands and spinning him around. Nico yelps, nearly tripping over a cot, but when he looks back up Will has his eyes closed and is shimmying not unlike a worm on a fish hook, and it’s so ridiculous that he can’t help but laugh. Will pries one eye open, grinning widely, and shimmies harder.
“You’re such a dweeb!”
“Join me in the dweebiness! Free yourself!”
Nico rolls his eyes fondly, squeezing Will’s hand, and lets himself get ridiculous. He’ll deny it if anyone asks, but it’s fun.
…And not just because Will is next to him, smile brighter than any star, dancing like a massive dork, hand clasped in his.
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wittlesissyb4by · 1 month
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Normalcy
"I'm so sorry! This…this never happens!!”
She drew her lips in a line and nodded, like she’d heard it a thousand times before, then went back to smacking her gum as she balled up the soggy diaper with practiced precision.
“No! I’m serious! I’m a grown man!! It’s not like I walk around pissing myself all the time!”
She scoffed, then shrugged. “Well you weren’t doing much walking—first of all—more like waddling. But you mean to tell me you never wet yourself? You’ve never wet a diaper before?”
“No…i…”
She inclined her head to the corner of the room, where a big sack of loaded diapers sat in a blue see-through bag.
“Okay…fine, I do. But only after a very long time period!! You don’t understand! My wife will leave me in them for the whole day!”
“I’ve only been here for an hour…”
“Yes but…” i wanted to tell her that was because my wife had made me drink three entire baby bottles of nasty fluids before she left. I tried to hold it. I really did. I didn’t want her little ‘babysitter’ to see me in a soggy diaper. In hindsight, i should have just let it all out with my wife and begged her to change me before she went off with that other dude. “It’s not a regular thing!”
“She told me you wet the bed.” The girl said, hardly even blinking as she taped my plump padding into a ball.
It was hard to explain that one away. Sure, there were several drunken nights where I’d blacked out and woken up with wet sheets in our marital bed. My wife was none too happy, but somehow those incidents kept happening even when I was sober, until she finally grew sick of it.
“So how long have you been in diapers?” The girl asked, setting my old one to the side and grabbing a fresh pamper. She asked it so casually, like it was a common point of conversation.
“3 months…” I said, unable to deny it anymore. “For the last two weeks it’s been 24/7. She…threw out all my underwear.”
The girl nodded as if nothing were out of the ordinary, tapping my thighs, apparently signaling for me to lift. I did so without incident, allowing her to slide the new diaper underneath.
“Do you make poo poo’s in them too?”
“No!” I said instinctively, but again she looked at me like a rugrat attempting an obvious lie.
“So if I go put your head in that bag, you won’t suffocate under a cloud of your own shit?”
Her words were cold, I had a feeling she’d do it too.
“Okay…fine. I do…”
“Do what?”
“P-poop…”
“Poop where?” She grinned, still smacking her gum, “I want you to tell me.”
I scrunched up my nose, feeling my cheeks flush with embarrassment. “I poop in the diapers.”
But she wasn’t satisfied, “now tell me wike a baybee!”
She couldn’t be serious, but when her face turned stern with impatience, it told me that she probably wasn’t someone I should cross.
“Uh…i…” I felt my voice growing smaller, higher, “I make poo poo’s in my pampies!!”
She smiled wide at that. “How do you poop?”
“I…what?” I asked, voice returning to normal.
“How do you do it? Do you crouch? Get down on hour haunches and make a pushy? Or have you learned to go in any position already? All the men I babysit have a different method. It’s adorable. One of them even has to sit on the potty in order to go!“
“I just…do it…I guess. I dunno?” Usually squatting, it came out surprisingly easy that way, but I didn’t want to tell her that, and she didn’t press further, just seemed intent on making me blush.
“Well…I don’t feel like changing a poopy diaper today. So you’re going to get the plug, okay?”
P-plug?
She reached into her diaper bag that she brought herself, and pulled out a rather large silicon buttplug.
“Oh…i dunno…” I said, squirming on top of the diaper splayed out beneath me. “My wife and I don’t really do butt stuff…”
But she just smiled and squirted some lube on it, painting the glob over it with her fingers. “It’s cute that you think you have a say in the matter.” She giggled, “legs up!”
Before I knew it, my ankles were in the air. It was like she had some sort of power over me that I couldn’t resist.
I winced as she pressed the plug to my hole, gently working it in and out, in and out. I had to bite my lip to keep the squeals (and moans?) in. It felt…surprisingly good.
By the time she’d worked it all the way in, there was a little puddle leaking out of my chastity cage. It had spread onto my belly button while my legs were in the air.
“Sorry…” I said as she grabbed a baby wipe to clean up the sticky mess I’d made.
"Don't worry about it.” She smiled, amused. “It's...normal..."
“Is it?” I asked, feeling a sense of relief.
“Sure.” She shrugged, but it came off sarcastic. “Well…not normal to be a grown man in diapers. To poop said diapers. Not normal to have your wife go off and hire a babysitter to change your diapers. And definitely not normal to have another man fuck your wife. But leaking a little cum through your chastity cage while getting a plug shoved up your ass?” She tossed the sticky wipe down into my open diaper, lifting the front so she could tape it on, “yea, I guess that’s pretty ‘normal’…”
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galacticnova3 · 1 year
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Since she has now flown off I am obligated to post the order of potato fairy extra large that I looked after for several days. Aka a gloriously chumby Polyphemus moth— the second one I’ve seen alive in over a decade— that decided to hang around our porch for most of its adult life. I saw the first live one on the same day, but he flew away when I tried to get close. But still, that’s a great sign that their population in my area is finally starting to recover! Anyways, here’s the wonderful big little creacher where I found her, which should probably make it clear as to why I moved her. Ants don’t mess around and I wasn’t gonna just leave her inches away from danger.
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I was pretty glad I did, as even after her wings were fully dried and extended and everything she couldn’t actually take off. See: her first “flight”.
Big fan of the loud impact PLAP sound, really added to the already very good demonstration of gravity. Worry not, she was totally fine afterwards. Here she is that night and the day after! Very cute and fuzzy, 1000/10.
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The next day I thought she had flown off, but then the day after that she was back on the porch! I could tell she was the same one because of her damaged antenna. She started laying eggs on the house and I realized that wasn’t going to be good for the caterpillars that might hatch, since it was a relatively long distance to any host plants even without including the vertical climb to reach branches of leaves. Since she clearly felt safe where she was, and I was also worried about ants and birds and possible insecticides, I ended up making a little “baby box” for her out of a thoroughly rinsed plastic container that initially held salted honey-roasted peanuts. I gave her a stick to hold on to which also gave her a route to climb out of the box if she wished, and provided various fresh oak leaves to lay her eggs on. Figured it would be a good setup because I could easily move it to a safe place once she was done, and keep an eye on the eggs until they hatched. I might even try to raise a few caterpillars if the eggs are fertile. However, during the process of me setting that whole deal up, she decided I looked like a good egg laying spot.
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You can see the “glue” that sticks the eggs to surfaces! It was cool to see up close: she’d lay an egg, wait for it to dry, and then lay the next right by it. She ended up sticking four on me before I was able to gently nudge her to the egg laying box. The stick was eventually deemed an acceptable substitute, and over night she… made an egg stalactite of sorts on it? Very weird, I think, I dunno; most of what I read online said their eggs would be laid in spread out clusters of two to three on suitable host plants. I know it wasn’t because she couldn’t get out, as when I went to check on her she had already made her way to the top of the stick and was hanging off of it outside the box. I didn’t think to take a picture of that as I needed to drive to college, but source: dude trust me. Here’s a picture of the egg sculpture I took when I got home.
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When I was done with that I went to move her off the porch where she had been staying safe for the last 5 or so days to the more wooded area of the yard, but she ended up flying off to the treetops on her own after I brought her into the open. I guess laying a bunch of eggs made her finally light enough to fly. Maybe she was feeling upset at me for not being able to pay child support and making her lay her eggs on a stick instead? Or she was just doing normal moth things or whatever. It was bittersweet to watch her go, but I’m glad she had the chance to soar the skies at least once before her time was up.
@onenicebugperday
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cheolhub · 10 months
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sar baby 😻 light of my life, HAPPY ONE YEAR! I COULD NOT BE MORE PROUD OF YOU!!
now business: can i have juyeon with the prompt “that really does make you hard. i can feel you pulsing inside me.” 👹
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6:10 p.m. — lee juyeon
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prompt. “that really does make you hard. i can feel you pulsing inside me.”
wc. 1.6k [srsly idk how to write a drabble under 1k]
warnings. switch!juyeon, switch!reader, needy juyeon, heavy praise, several uses of good boy, pet names [baby], unprotected sex, creampie, kinda messy sex? – MINORS DNI 18+
note. keir, my angel, my bff <# thank u so so much! u know i for sure would’ve deleted this account if you hadn’t been here to keep me grounded (as u always do.) i love u more than u will ever know & i will forever thank the universe for bringing u 2 me 🤬!! & THANK YEWWW FOR REQUESTING OUR BELOVED, SLUTTY JUYO! i hope u like it (not proofread bc u usually do that for me hahah)
⇢ ˗ˏˋ join the birthday bash!  ࿐ྂ
p.s. this is my first tbz work… plz be gentle 🫡
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you swear greed will be lee juyeon’s downfall. gluttonous and insatiable, the crazed, unhinged man cannot keep his hands off of you for the life of him. 
you think he’d die if he went a half day without touching you, kissing you, fucking you– that, or he’d die from the lack of attention.
it’s almost concerning. almost… sometimes, you can’t be bothered to care when it feels like you’re on cloud nine every time he puts his hands on you. 
but sometimes, you are bothered by it. 
“baby, i’m busy,” you mumble, typing away at your laptop. you’re hyper focused on the work document in front of you, the blue light straining your eyes. “just give me a little.”
he’s standing behind your chair with his arms crossed, a small pout etched into his lips. 
“you said you’d be done by 6? it’s 6:10…” he sulks and you crack a smile, spinning your chair around to look at your pouty boyfriend. 
you grin, “what, are you timing me now, juyeon?” 
he sighs dramatically, “‘course ‘m not, but you promised me you wouldn’t be working past 6.” 
“i have to get this spreadsheet done before tomorrow morning, baby. and i would’ve gotten it done this morning if a certain someone didn’t beg me to stay in bed with them.” you joke lightly, “do you want me to get fired or something?” 
the frown on his face deepens as the smile on yours spreads. “you know i don’t… i just miss you.” he sighs, dropping his arms by his sides. “feels like i haven’t seen you in hours. tired of you doing work when you can be doing other things worthy of your time. like me, for example.” 
you reach out, taking his hands into yours. “two. you lasted two hours, juyeon.”
“two hours too long.” he whines softly and you can’t help but find him so endearing. “baby, please, just… just take a break.”
he doesn’t wait for you to object, pulling you up to your feet and dragging you back into your bedroom and you groan, knowingly. you’re not getting that damn spreadsheet done until he’s fucked himself to sleep.
“you have to be quick, juyo. i wanna finish my work before it’s too late to order takeout.” you tell him as he tugs you, to which he mumbles a ‘yeah, yeah.’ it’s obvious he has no intention of acting in accordance with your wishes. 
because when you’re in your room, he pulls you in for a desperate kiss. he moans into your mouth as his hands squeeze your hips and pull you so you’re flush against his body. you feel his hard cock through the thin material of his shorts when he grinds into you. 
you pull back with a breathy giggle, “baby, how are you already hard?”
“i’ve been hard for an hour now.” he huffs, gripping you tighter. he lowers his voice till it’s just barely above a whisper, “kept thinkin’ ‘bout how… how you called me your good boy… and how you told me how good my cock made you feel. looked so pretty and you felt so fucking good, baby. wanna feel you around me again. need to.”
you let out a sharp breath, mind wandering back to the long hour he had your ankles resting on his shoulders this morning. your cunt pulses as you remember how he fucked you so nice and so deep while you brainlessly babbled out praise. most of it being incoherent comments about his perfect cock. 
curse lee juyeon and his dick for turning you on when it shouldn’t.
he groans, digging himself into your clothed tummy. “gonna let me fuck you, yeah?”
you moan softly, arousal probably soaking through your shorts with how wet you are. “as long as you’re quick, then you can, baby.”
he nods mindlessly, but he’s ignoring that request again. 
he leisurely shimmies your shorts and panties off and then his own shorts– he has on nothing underneath and you wish you could say you were surprised– before guiding you onto the bed. he towers over you, repeatedly slapping the head of his cock against your clit and laughing softly as you moan and jerk underneath him. 
you huff at his taunting, “stop that,”
he feigns innocence with a faux pout, “stop what?”
two can play at that game.
 “juyeon?” you jut your bottom lip out, “you wanna be my good boy, don’t you?” 
it’s like a flip switches on inside of him. he’s left breathless, nodding his head eagerly like a puppy, pulling his cock away from your clit.
“good. now fuck me and be quick. i’m not gonna tell you again.” you command, voice rigid and unforgiving. 
he doesn’t protest, he doesn’t complain, instead he obliges without an ounce of hesitation. he lines himself up with your entrance– where you clench around absolutely nothing– pushing the tip of his cock into you slowly. 
you inhale sharply, the air in your lungs fleeing quickly as you feel your walls stretch to accommodate his size. you have to tell your body to relax at the sudden invasion, unclenching so he can push himself in deeper. 
“baby,” he moans, throwing his head back. “you’re so fucking tight. oh, fuck–”
“j-just keep moving, juyo, i can take it.” you manage to tell him, voice cracking ever so slightly towards the end of your sentence. 
you whimper softly when he bottoms out. his cock fills you like no other and the thought has you clamping around him, walls molding to his shape just as they’re meant to. 
juyeon pulls out with a whine and pushes back into you slowly. you’re sure he’s doing it for his own sake. any faster and your poor, pent-up baby is going to cum embarrassingly quick. 
but you have other things you need to do, so this needs to go at your preferred pace.
“go faster, baby,” you say airly. 
he reluctantly speeds up, giving you deep, precise thrusts. he lodges his bottom lip between his perfectly straight teeth attempting to bite back the ridiculously needy sounds his body wants to expose. 
and you notice, letting out a giggly moan. “that’s it, baby. you’re such a good boy, aren’t you?” you coo at him.
juyeon gasps, releasing his lip so a broken moan can slip past them, his cock twitching uncontrollably inside of you. 
you hum in delight, “hmmm, that really does make you hard, huh?” you ask rhetorically. “i can feel you pulsing inside of me.”
and you can. he’s throbbing in between your walls like he’s about to bust inside of you and it’s filling you with the utmost joy. when you’d met juyeon forever and a year ago, you wouldn’t have thought he’d be so easy to reduce to a mess. you’re not complaining, though. not when he sounds so pretty cursing and moaning for you like a cute bitch in heat. 
“fuh-fuck, again– please, s-say it again.” he begs, eyes pleading and eyebrows knit together. 
you moan softly, willing to give him everything he wants. “cock feels so good. you’re fucking me so good, juyeon. you’re such a good boy.” you needily place your hand between your thighs, right above where his cock meets your messy cunt. your fingers quickly find your clit, rubbing at the swollen bud in tandem with his now-erratic thrusts. “my good boy.”
you clench around him as the words tumble out of your mouth and juyeon’s eyes nearly roll. he cries out needily, “close. ‘m close, baby–”
you rub your clit faster and squeeze him tighter, mewling out your reply. “cum for me, baby. cum inside me ‘n fill me up.”
he whines, pounding into your harder and harder before his thrusts cease and he’s pressed deep inside of you. his warm seed spills, coating your walls as he lets out a long, drawn out groan of pleasure. 
he wants to collapse, but he knows you haven’t gotten off. 
so before he can completely come down from his high, juyeon resumes his thrusts. you feel his release spill every time he pulls out of you and it’s messy. a sloppy, wet noise sounds every time his balls slap against your cum coated cunt. 
juyeon is surely overstimulated. you can tell by the babbles of him begging you to cum and the rolling of his eyes and the whimpers and mewls that are driving you absolutely feral underneath him. 
you don’t last much longer after that, body jolting as you feel the tightrope in the pit of your tummy snap. your walls envelope his cock into a tight hug as you completely release over him. you cry with his name dying on your tongue, the earth-shattering orgasm washing over you. 
he has to force himself to stop fucking you. tears brim in his eyes right before he collapses on top of you, his cock slipping out of your worn pussy. every nerve ending in his body feels like they’ve been electrified and he can’t help but twitch and pant on top of you. 
you grunt with his weight on you, “juyo, you okay?” you ask breathily. 
“mmm,” he moans in response. he’s fine.
you smile, running your hands through his hair. “you’re gonna let me go back to work now, right? i gave you your fix, so you should be good for at least another two hours. i should be done before then, though.”
he groans, “i dont want you to work.”
“i know you don’t–”
“so stay here with me.”
you huff, “how many times do i have to let you fuck me before you’ll let me work?”
he pulls up and smiles cheekily at you, eyes still a bit dazed. “maybe… three times. or four.”
you scoff, “you are such a piece of work.”
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© cheolhub — all rights reserved, please refrain from copying, reposting, modifying or translating my work on any platform.
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vanteguccir · 5 months
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destructive home | m. sturniolo
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Matt Sturniolo x reader
Summary: Where Matt helps Y/N get through an anxiety attack.
Requested?: Yes, on Wattpad.
Warning: Anxiety attack, panic attack, toxic home, toxic father, fighting between parents.
Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
Y/N closed her eyes tightly feeling her head spin from the loud voices coming from downstairs. Unfortunately, her parents fighting was nothing new, and even less so was her father starting the fight.
Y/N's father has always been the type of father who is physically present but emotionally absent, living in the same house as the girl since her birth, but never really playing the role of a kind and welcoming father.
Quite the contrary, her father has always been a very demanding and controlling man, Y/N having witnessed his first attack of stress when she was just a week old, when her mother cooked lunch for both of them, but couldn't bear to eat everything on her plate due to the exhaustion of being a first-time mother, and her father started a series of screams demanding that she eat all the food, after all "he pays the house bills and the food in the cupboard and refrigerator and didn't want to see anything being wasted", ignoring completely the scandalous crying of the little girl, who understood nothing at the time.
And it was exactly in an environment like this that Y/N grew up, learning that staying silent all the time at home prevented fights from reaching huge peaks, but suffering the consequences with the fights inside her head, which grew more and more. With all of this, the girl ended up developing panic attacks and severe anxiety, which she only discovered through a quick diagnosis from her school psychologist, as her father refused to pay for a consultation for her and her mother did not have enough money to do it.
Y/N grew up with constant fights outside and inside her head, experiencing the most bitter moments inside her own home, where she had to face her anxiety attacks alone on the floor of her room, muffling the loud sounds of her sobs with pillows.
But whoever was listening to her cry through all this time, listened to her prayers and sent an angel into her life. Y/N met Matt two years ago in a cafe in the city completely by accident, the barista at the cafe ended up getting confused with their orders and handed Matt's to Y/N and vice versa, the two only realizing it after the first sip.
And since then Y/N no longer had to face her fears alone, her refuge in difficult times stopped being her cold and lonely bed and became Matt, with whom she could lean on in all the sad and happy moments too, and the best thing being that she, having experience with herself, could help him with his own anxiety attacks, the two of them moving towards a better mental place together.
But despite the willpower to improve and all the effort, there were days when it became more difficult. Y/N had woken up that morning with a bitter taste in her mouth and a heavy head, feeling like something was going to happen, and she wasn't wrong.
The day went by with a heavy air, the girl staying at home all day since it was a Sunday and Matt spent the day filming with his brothers the podcast that would be posted the next day, and all the weight that lived in the walls of her house seemed to have been transferred to Y/N's back, she couldn't remember the last time she felt that, and the fact that she wouldn't see Matt that day only made it worse.
At the end of the day Y/N understood why she woke up with the heavy feeling. Her mother was cooking something in the kitchen for dinner that would be served soon, which the girl was sure she would just grab a plate and go up to her room to eat alone, but during the process of making the food, her mother let some glass escape from her hands, making a thunderous noise.
Y/N was startled by the sound, getting up and running downstairs without thinking, just worried about her mother and wanting to understand what had happened, but while the girl calmed her mother who seemed in shock over the broken plate, her mind began to scream danger.
Seconds later the sounds of heavy footsteps became present and it didn't take long for the male screams to be heard, her father releasing several curses along with insults towards her mother and, consequently, towards herself as well.
Y/N felt numb, her father's voice becoming a background sound as a buzzing settled in her head. The girl wasted no time and ran upstairs, all she wanted was to get away from the fight.
It didn't take much more than a minute and she found herself closing the door with a bang, throwing herself on the floor next to her bed and curling up in a fetal position, her throat making horrible sounds as she tried to draw in air, which never seemed to come enough.
Her heart was beating fast and her hands were shaking tirelessly.
In a moment of sanity, the girl crawled to the end of her bed to get her phone, thinking about the only one who could help her at the moment. Her fingers raced to the emergency contacts, seeing only one in the listing, Matt.
She quickly clicked it, putting it on speaker and dropping the phone on the floor.
"Hello my love, we're almost done here. I was thinking about calling you next, what do you think about... Y/N?" The boy answered with a smile in his voice, stopping talking when he noticed a sound like a strangulation in the background. "Y/N? Baby, please, what's going on?" He asked desperately, standing up quickly from his seat in the recording room on the other side of the phone, fully gaining his brothers' attention.
The girl couldn't respond, barely able to hear him properly, her mind just processing that she needed air, her eyes closed tightly as she felt as if her room was shrinking in size around herself.
"Baby stay with me, I'm coming, I'm coming. Stay with me..."
The male voice seemed to come and go in Y/N's ears, and what took less than 10 minutes seemed to take hours in her fragile mind. The sound of her bedroom window opening echoed through the room as Matt entered the pink-walled room after climbing the roof of the two-story house, already used to the action.
The boy quickly ran towards his girlfriend, throwing himself on the ground, kneeling next to her and hugging her tightly, trying to bring her mind back.
"I'm here, baby. I'm with you." He whispered incessantly against Y/N's ear, feeling her smaller body tremble against his. "Baby, I need you to take a deep breath for me. Stretch, come on." He spoke, helping her straighten her spine and stretching her legs, leaving her sitting in an L-shaped position. "Can you breathe through your nose for me?" Matt asked, watching carefully his girlfriend's face, feeling his heart tighten at her state, her lips trembling, her cheeks hot and rosy, her face tense and her eyebrows furrowed.
Y/N tried to do as requested, finally being able to identify her boyfriend's voice, but the action seemed to lead nowhere.
"Come on, my love, I know you can do it." He asked in a whisper, feeling his eyes burn with tears. Upon seeing Y/N's difficulty in fulfilling the request, he quickly approached and sealed her lips tightly, briefly remembering when the girl did the same to himself during one of his worst crises.
Y/N stood still, her hands still shaking and her heart beating hard, but her mind seemed to contain itself and the loud noise inside her fell silent.
The girl felt tears roll down her face, opening her eyes, her vision slowly getting used to everything after being in the dark for several minutes. She calmly pulled away from Matt, drawing a breath of air into her lungs, feeling relief at being able to do so.
Y/N looked at her boyfriend's face, seeing him smile in relief as tears rolled down his own eyes.
"Don't cry." She asked weakly, pulling him into a tight embrace, pressing her cheek against his, their tears mixing together.
Matt let out a tearful laugh, sniffling as he brought one of his hands to Y/N's hair, stroking the spot.
"I'm just glad you're okay."
"Thank you Matt." She thanked him, hearing him sigh happily. Y/N snuggled closer into Matt's arms, still not having the strength to get up from the floor and he didn't seem to want to do so yet either.
"I love you so much, my love." He whispered a few minutes later, kissing the top of her head. Matt slowly moved back after getting silence in response, looking at his girlfriend only to see her with her eyes closed and breathing lightly, sleep having taken over her weak body from the intense moment.
The sound of two knocks on the door made him look up, looking intently to the door and ready to protect his girl if necessary, but relief filled his heart when he saw that it was Y/N's mother.
The woman had her face between the door and the frame, ready to check if her daughter was okay after the mess in the kitchen, but her worried features were replaced by a soft smile when she saw her daughter and her boyfriend cradled together.
"Thank you." She whispered truthfully to Matt, earning a nod before carefully closing the door.
The mother walked towards her own room with a light heart, knowing that Matt would do anything to take care of and see her daughter well.
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gh0st-t0wn3 · 7 months
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Lmk ss edits + headcanons, Part 6 (Azure Lion, Peng, Yellowtusk)
(I originally made my own design of Azure and Yellowtusk but wasn't quite happy with how they turned out so I scrapped them, the designs for those two I used in these edits were made by @/erraday_ on twt, with a few minor changes, but Peng's design is my own :) )
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- He/Him
- Pansexual
- Snores so loud, it's insane, Yellowtusk once thought there was an earthquake
- Feels bad whenever he's steps on a ladybug, butterfly etc
- Gives everyone and everything giant bear hugs because he thinks if Yellowtusk can take it, so can everyone else (They cannot)
- Mei once gave him catnip as a joke and he went fucking feral, he's not allowed near catnip anymore
- His hair/fur is actually very soft and curly
- Thought he saw an old friend while out in public and hugged them, it was a stranger
- Wakes up Yellowtusk in the middle of the night to ask stupid questions
- The Brotherhood asked to hear his roar but he got really nervous last second and it ended up being really meek, they never let him forget it
- Coughed up a hairball once and Peng refuses to let him live it down
- Has eaten cat food before and would do it again
- Cannot do the splits and is too scared to try
- Gets really confused by modern slang, MK and Mei abuse the hell out of it because it's funny
- Whenever he's rough housing with people he accidentally hits a bit too hard
- Whenever he walks past anyone playing a game that involves a ball (football, basketball, netball, etc) he somehow always ends up getting hit in the head with it
- If he wasn't sealed away and got a chance to babysit Redson as a kid he wouldn't know what the fuck to do and would be really awkward cause he doesn't know how to interact with children, he'd be able to bond with Redson better when he becomes a teenager though
- No one gossips with him because he always ends up unintentionally outing someone about something
- Ate moldy food once by accident and freaked out, he was absolutely disgusted
- Hates horror movies but loves slashers
- Drinks mouthwash
- Smells like catnip (trust me guys)
- Love language is words of affirmation
- Has horrible bed head, his mane gets tangled really easily and he tosses around a lot at night so his mane takes hours to brush out
- Absolutely refuses to wear shoes, they hurt his feet (paws?)
- The type of person to cry over a movie about a dog getting lost and then finding its owner at the end
- Can somehow eat an entire goddamn buffet and not gain a single pound
- His face always scrunches up when he smiles
- Lost his balance on a hill and fell down like a tumbleweed once, Peng still brings it up
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- They/He (Canon, Peng uses They/Them in the show but is exclusively referred to w/ He/Him in the sets)
- Nonbinary (Canon)
- Starts squaking when he laughs too much
- If you throw a blanket over their head he'll immediately fall asleep
- "look behind you but don't make it obvious" Looks behind him in the most exaggerated, obvious way known to mankind
- Stole food from Wukong's private stash for several months when the Brotherhood was all still together, Wukong still doesn't know
- Wukong gave them cooked chicken once as a joke but he actually liked it
- Constantly argues with Wukong about Macaque not being able to hold his own, yes it got physical
- Their wings have a bunch of scars from the amount of weapons and shit they block with them. Has to consistently clean their wings in order to keep them from getting too damaged, yes this includes softening and preening his feathers
- If they weren't sealed away and got a chance to babysit Redson as a kid they would tape him to the wall like that one meme and call it a day
- Bit off a person's finger once just to see if they could
- Doesn't shop, just steals
- "I hate you so fucking much" as he's handing the person a gift
-  Tried to draw on Wukong's face once but got wacked with his tail
- Absolutely HATES beetroot, will actually gag if he smells it
- Kicks over kids sand castles at the beach
- Can't stand small buzzing sounds
- "I'm not that competitive" is that competitive
- Claims you can trust them with anything but will snitch the second they know it will benefit them
- Probably threatened to eat someone's baby once
- Goes to playgrounds to trip kids
- Smells like Lavender, it just feels right
- Love language is words of affirmation and acts of service
- Has tried sleeping upside down like a bat multiple times
- Hardcore wine aunt vibes
- Had a bunch of ducklings accidently imprinted to him and they followed Peng for hours
- You'd have to pin this bird down to get them to eat collyflower
- Jokingly pushed Azure off a cliff once then remembered they're the only member of the Camel Ridge Trio that can fly
- They have full on concerts at like 3 am, has woken up Azure on multiple occasions
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- He/Him
- AroAce
- Is the calmest one in the Brotherhood
- He uses Peng's head as an armrest sometimes
- He and DBK were actually quite close, he knew and accepted that DBK was in love with a celestial but was very surprised to see they ended up having a child
- Very poor eyesight but doesn't like wearing his glasses because Peng made a joke about them once saying he looked like a grandma
- Uses ":3" and ":D"
- Loves soap opera's
- Hates seafood
- Peng once tricked him into eating fish nuggets once and he still hasn't fully forgiven them
- If he wasn't sealed away and got a chance to babysit Redson as a kid he would definitely be the most responsible one, and probably Redson's favourite uncle
- Eats a snack then forgets he ate it and will bet frustrated when he can't find it
- The therapist of the Camel Ridge Trio, and probably of the whole Brotherhood in the past as well
- Was the only one who felt bad about imprisoning the Demon Bull Family since he and DBK were very close
- He also reprimanded Peng for when they pinned and scratched Redson with their claws after they left the Demon Bull Palace (he's the protective uncle, trust me guys)
- Hates getting hiccups, he despises the feeling and it gives him heartburn
- Wakes up at ungodly hours just to raid the fridge
- Heard a story about a bug crawling in someone's ear while they slept and has worn earplugs to bed ever since
- Loves apples
- Smells like Lilies
- Love language is gift giving
- Is really big on safety, would be the type of person to make sure everyone is wearing their seat belts before the car is even turned on
- Actually really good at cooking
- Makes the best chocolate chip pancakes ever
- Is the kind of person who assumes everyone tells eachother everything and accidently exposes someone because he thought everyone else knew about it already
- Always hears things wrong but doesn't wanna ask anyone to repeat themselves
- Has the most elegant ass handwriting you will ever see, somehow
- The peacemaker of the Brotherhood,  they all would've disbanded way sooner if it wasn't for him
- Uses his trunk as a snorkle when swimming or sleeping underwater (elephants actually do this irl, I just thought it was cute)
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writingseaslugs · 1 year
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Diasomnia: When They're Sick
Ahhhhhh finally! This dorm actually took the longest because I kept getting side tracked with other things. Took me two days to write it. I blame my friend, Em. We had write night and we couldn’t stop talking long enough for me to write these. I got midway through Lilia before giving up.
Disclaimer: All characters in this series are aged up. For more information about my version of this world and the type of reader you can expect, please click the “Au Information” below!
Request Information | Masterlist | Au Information
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Diasomnia: When They’re Sick
Fae sickness was something that was vastly different from the kind that humans experience. It’s normally stronger and makes the person infected feel like a zombie. Thankfully the virus doesn’t circulate too often, but when it does it comes through like a hurricane. All it takes is for one person to visit Briar Valley when it’s going around and then come back to the dorm and everyone who can get it is sick. Sadly this happened and to say that everyone was in the dorm was suffering was an understatement. Even the humans were getting sick from flu season…overall not the best time to be visiting Diasomnia.
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Malleus Draconia
Malleus hadn’t been sick in a hot minute…how long we’ll never know. It just never really happened to the Dragon Fae. So when he did come down with a surprise flu that was exclusive to Fae, it caused a bit of an uproar in Diasomnia. Most students were told to keep quiet about the situation, but it didn’t stop rumors from spreading as Malleus began missing some classes. Sebek was tense while going to school and Lilia, for the most part, also wasn’t attending classes so he could care of the prince.
Lilia is the one who actually shows up to your dorm room to inform you about Malleus’s condition. He isn’t very subtle about it either, in fact he was a bit over dramatic as to how bad off Malleus was. Now at this point, the worst of his illness is gone. Lilia wasn’t about to drag you in for that shit show that was the first few days of the fae flu, but he is dragging you in on the last few days in order to help Malleus feel better emotionally. Poor dragon boy has been stuck inside his room not being able to do much, and it caused him to be restless. The moment he sees you appear in his room his entire day has already brightened up.
Malleus has no issues taking medicine, though what he takes is certainly not something you’d be used to. The glowing liquid in the vial looks almost alien as you hand it over to him. There were several lined up, all labeled according to when he had to take them. It was odd seeing him chug the glowing liquid since it was still glowing in his neck as he took it, only to fade out when it got past the neck. Apparently it was special medicine made in Briar Valley that was specially made to help combat the flu.
Please do him a favor and make something for him to eat…please. Lilia has been in charge of bringing him his meals, so some of them have been unique. Granted, Lilia did try following the recipes this time around to make sure Malleus didn’t get worse from his cooking, but they can only help so much. Lilia can’t help but think “Maybe if I add this it’ll help him feel better faster.” which ended up in a vile concoction. So please bring him something good to eat so he can have a palate cleanser. He’ll probably be asking if you can stay until he’s better just so he doesn’t have to eat another of Lilia's specialty meals.
You’re going to be receiving random gifts at your home as soon as he’s better, along with several letters. Chivalry isn’t dead when it comes to the dragon fae, and he’s making it known that he appreciates what you’ve done. You’re never going to find out about the earlier stages of him being sick though, so don’t worry. That’s something that you probably will never see in your lifetime if he has anything to say about it.
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Lilia Vanrouge
Lilia is also someone who doesn’t get sick very often; the last time he did was before Malleus was even born. So to say he was shocked when he began feeling sickly was an understatement. He knew exactly what was going on too, he had the fae flu a few times in the past, and it’s a feeling you never forget. So he’s already getting medicine prepared and telling everyone that he’s going to be taking time away from classes for maybe a week or two.
Lilia originally wasn’t going to be dragging you into this, but when you found out from Malleus that Lilia was acting strange and isolating himself in his room, you were curious. Lilia was in his room, covered in tissues with a red nose and watery eyes, staring at the ceiling. He didn’t even notice you had come in, which says something. Of course he’s going to accept help even if it does pain him to let you see him like this, but he isn’t exactly able to do much himself at the moment.
Once he has you taking care of him, he’s going to be so happy and be far more of a big baby than he was earlier. He now has you to give him medicine and attention, and he’s living for it. He’s never actually had anyone taking care of him while he was sick, so this is new and pleasant for him. He’s going to be over the moon but also extra needy as he begs for an extra dose of medicine even though he had some like five minutes ago. You’re going to have to remind him to let it kick in, but he can’t help the whining. It’s so fun watching your facial expressions and despite being sick, he still needs to mess with you somehow.
This is the only time he might complain; and it’s not even for the reasons you think. He’ll take one bite of your food and comment he can’t taste anything, before asking for you to take him to the kitchen so he can add flavor. Don’t. Let. Him. Absolutely don’t let him even leave the room, he’s contagious and he’s aware, but he also really wants something with a strong taste so it’s a mix of emotions. Just let him know you’ll see what you can do and maybe grab something that’s…different to put into his meal next. It doesn't have to be good, it just has to be unique.
Once he’s better he is so hyped to be able to hang out with you again. He’s going to be jumping off the walls and thanking you for being such a good caretaker for the poor, old Bat. Silver, Malleus, and Sebek will also be thankful to you for helping Lilia, since he refused to let any of them see him while he was sick. He apparently didn’t even let Silver into the room, despite knowing he wouldn’t be able to catch whatever he had. Lilia didn’t want anyone to see him so weak and frail, but you guess since you came in unannounced he didn’t have much of a choice.
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Silver
Silver clearly can’t get a disease that targets fae, but that doesn't mean he can’t still get a cold. Falling asleep in random places can really ruin someone’s health, and Silver is no exception. He fell asleep outside and it got a bit too late, a little bit too cold. The next thing he knew he had a horrible cold and a raging headache that wouldn’t go away. So he did what was best and went to his room and tried to sleep it off without a second thought.
Silver in the past was always able to get over colds very fast, so Lilia never was too worried when he found out Silver was under the weather. You, on the other hand, were very concerned. If Silver just slept it off, then he might get better, but it was best to treat the cold as best you could. After all, colds could turn to pneumonia in the blink of an eye, and that can literally kill a human. Somehow this passed by Lilia’s knowledge so he never cared too much, but after you express this concern he goes full dad mode. He doesn't know much about treating humans though, so you’re the one leading the way. Thankfully Silver is too out of it to protest.
Silver will take whatever you give him judging by how he’s half asleep when you’re there. Whenever he’s sick he’s extra tired and literally can barely keep himself awake. It’s extremely concerning but Lilia swears it’s how he’s always been. Silver might be able to thank you while he’s half asleep, but that’s about it. Thankfully the taste doesn’t get to him while he’s in this state, so no worries about him spitting out the medicine or fighting due to the flavor.
This is the most challenging part about him being sick. Again…he can barely keep himself conscious. Just getting him to sit upright to have a meal is a struggle. You’re basically spoon feeding him as he begins dozing off every couple of seconds. You need to make sure he doesn’t drown in his soup. At one point, smelling salts actually do sound like a rather good idea to use on him. It’s going to take a solid hour for him to finish whatever meal you bring to him, but at least he’s eaten something. Normally when it’s just Lilia, he won’t eat until he’s all better. Small improvements are still improvements!
Silver hardly remembers being sick, but he does recall glimpses of you between his fever dreams. Once he’s back, he’ll be thanking you and asking if you’d like to go on a walk. It’s just his way of saying thanks. The walk is mainly so all the forest animals will run up and greet you guys, since they were all concerned once Silver was gone. The animals and Silver are very grateful for the efforts you put forward to assisting him in getting better. While he can’t promise he’ll be able to give the same care for you, he can at least say he’ll do his best if you ever fall ill.
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Sebek Zigvolt
Sebek, out of everyone, is the worst when it comes to denying he’s sick. He could literally pass out from exhaustion from his illness, and he’d get back up and apologize for his displays in front of Malleus. Lilia is the one telling Sebek he needs to rest, and the only way Sebek will is if Lilia reminds him that his illness is contagious and could make Malleus ill. So of course this leads Sebek to going to another extreme and barricading himself in his dorm room so that no germs can get out. This makes it hard for anyone but Lilia to get in to check on him.
He refuses to let a human help him; you have no idea what a fae illness is. How could you possibly help? Wait…Malleus personally asked you to come help nurse him back to help since you can’t catch whatever it is he has? Why of course, Lord Malleus is so generous and he needs his guard back as soon as possible, so it makes sense he’d send a servant to help him. Just remind him you aren’t a servant and you’re here because you care for him. He will get flustered but will do his best after he is finally open to you helping him out.
Medicine is something that he’s not super stoked on taking, but if Lilia bought it, then he’ll take it. He will give you the side eye if you stare at him while taking it and ask what’s so interesting about it. When he grimaces it’s a bit funny with how his face scrunches up and he quickly tries to conceal it. You caught it though, it was so obvious that he disliked the taste and it was oh so adorable.
He’s not super picky when it comes to the stuff he eats while sick, as long as Lilia hasn’t touched it. He might even comment that it tastes good for something a human managed to cook up. That’s him secretly saying that it tastes amazing and he loves it, he’s just not going to say all of that out loud. He does prefer it if the meals will help him get better faster though, so keep that in mind. He also wants a lot of protein to be in it so he doesn’t lose bulk, because he might still be trying to work out while sick. Smack him over the head and tell him to take a chill pill and relax. If need be, get Lilia to do it for you. He needs rest and it’s not something he’s good at.
Once he’s better he’ll thank you out of obligation, because Lilia literally won’t let him go without saying it. He might even be blushing but he’s going to have to add something to make it into a subtle insult. “You played a good nurse…well for a human at least.” at least it’s something. Just inform him that it wasn’t for free and the next time you’re sick, he’s the one giving you medicine and home cooked meals. He can’t even say he won’t. He can’t be indebted to a human, after all.
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sirfrogsworth · 8 months
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Last week was crazy.
I honestly can't believe all of it happened in the span of a week. Well, I guess it was more like 10 days. But it was another... Alot.
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It all started when I got my disability denial letter. I couldn't wait until I got into the house so I opened the envelope as I walked back from the mailbox. Once I saw the bad part I had an instant panic attack in my driveway.
I ran inside...
Okay, that isn't true.
I walked very quickly inside...
Nope, still not true.
Okay, I walked at my personal top speed which is probably still slow for most people... but the point I'm trying to make is that I was attempting to hurry despite only saving myself about 3 seconds of travel time.
But the hurrying made me feel better, okay?
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Out of breath from my geriatric-style powerwalking, I called my lawyer's office immediately. And... he is on vacation. Won't be back until the next Thursday. I spent the entire weekend going through every panic state a body can feel. I go from angry to depressed to anxious to panicked to angry (again) to scared to more scared to extra more scared. Visions of homelessness danced in my head.
I can't sleep for over a day because my brain won't shut off. Finally my body gives out and I fall asleep on the couch watching random YouTube videos. But falling asleep on the couch is bad because I'm not hooked up to my CPAP machine. Then I finally do hook up my CPAP and my damned mask breaks. Thankfully it has happened before and I have a cool hot glue and duct tape solution. But it is hard to manage hot glue and tape when you haven't slept in days and your eyes will barely stay open. So a few burned fingers later, I am sleeping comfortably in my janky duct tape-laden CPAP mask.
Monday rolls around and I decide to go into problem solving mode. Problem solving is my superpower, so I was going to lean into that in an effort to reduce my anxiety. The denial letter said they had no records from before I was 22, so I put on my detective hat and began the hunt to prove I was sick before 2004. My aunt helped me dig through my mom's document drawer. I distinctly remember an essay I wrote to the disability people back when I first got sick. It was part of the paperwork they had me submit. It was a first hand account of my symptoms back in 2001. It also had an essay from my dad talking about how sick I was. I felt like if I could find that, the records surrounding it would all be related and from the same time period.
We go through the entire drawer and only find a few things that might be helpful. Then I realized my mom had a *second* drawer full of documents and my aunt was blocking it. So we start going through that and find a folder labeled "Ben's Disability Stuff." I would have never kept any of that stuff but my mom kept *everything* and it was all in chronological order.
She is still looking out for me.
And she may have kept me from being homeless.
We find the essay and records of my ECT treatments and the names of doctors and all kinds of evidence of my medical woes before 2004. And even if they won't accept it as direct evidence, I can use these documents to show doctors I was their patient. And my primary care doctor said he would be willing to talk to those past doctors to help me convince them to write a letter on my behalf. All they really have to say is they treated me for severe depression and fatigue. And because my mom kept a list of my prescriptions and my ECT treatments, I'm hoping that will be enough to convince them even if they don't remember treating me.
Wednesday I had my monthly checkup. And I got to peek at my main doctor's records from before 2004. It's all handwritten notes and a little hard to read (bad doctor handwriting is the most accurate stereotype in existence). But it clearly says I had depression and was undergoing ECT treatments. It even mentions one of the doctors I want to write me a letter. It's not a lot, but it is first hand, direct medical evidence from that time period. I think it will be very compelling to whoever reviews my case.
I also talked to the nurses/assistants in the office about copying my entire chart, and I thought we were on the same page, but as you will see later... we were not on the same page.
I exit the building and remember how far away I had parked. And once again I forgot to use my cane—even though I keep a spare in the car. The main lot was full and the disabled parking was occupied, so I had to park in the secondary lot. My legs were holding up so far, but it was already a lot of walking for me. Very slow walking.
His office is in the same complex as the hospital. Which is my next stop. It's the same hospital that I have been going to all of my life. And the hospital where both of my parents died.
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But I need vintage medical records and that is where they keep them.
Or so I thought.
I drive from the medical office parking lot to the hospital parking lot and only the spots farthest away are empty. And because of goddamn global warming, it is 90 fucking degrees in late September. I park, lock my car, grab my man purse, and start hoofing it to the hospital entrance. I'm so nervous about getting these records that I forgot my damn cane again.
My thoughts are basically, "What if they only keep 7 years of records like everyone else? What if the records from Christian Northwest aren't kept with the records from Christian Northeast? (Christian NW doesn't exist anymore.) What if they won't send them to my lawyer? What if it costs a thousand bucks? What if, what if, what if..."
I get to the front desk and ask the lady where the records department is. She gives me directions that my brain is only capable of half paying attention to. Then I realized I left the records release form from my lawyer in the car. So I walk another half mile in the heat to my car without my cane. And initially, my thought was, "Well, at least I can grab my cane once I get the form." But by the time I got to my car my thought was, "AHHHHHHHHH THAT WAS A LONG FUCKING WALK. KILL ME!"
And so I forgot my cane.
Again.
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I get back to the lobby and wave at the lady who gave me directions. I pretend like I remembered and confidently walk in the direction I recall her pointing to. I found the elevator. Thankfully this particular elevator only goes two places. Which seems like a waste of an elevator, but... whatever. I get off on the second floor and am met with a big sign with all the departments and little arrows next to them.
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(I'm sure you knew what I was talking about but I'm trying to break up this wall of text with images because I am a professional blogger person.)
I see "Medical Records" and a leftward arrow. I used my keen detective skills to surmise I should probably veer left.
I find myself at the beginning of the world's longest hallway.
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Without my cane.
And it is flooded with sterile florescent light and the walls are adorned with the world's most inoffensive art.
Here is a painting of a plant. Here is a painting of a bird. Here is a painting of a bird sitting on a plant. Wait, is that a... WATERFALL??
Suddenly Indiana Jones' voice shouts in my thoughts...
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So, if you had to guess, do you think the records department was...
A.) near the beginning of the hallway? B.) in the middle of the hallway? C.) beyond the world's longest hallway in the world's second longest hallway?
As I enter the world's second longest hallway, I notice the art is repeating itself. I've seen that bird sitting on a plant before. I worried I was going in circles, but it turns out they probably just bought the inoffensive art in bulk and weren't concerned about repeats. I get about halfway down the second longest hallway and see a big sign sticking out... "MEDICAL RECORDS."
Note to God: The real world needs a fast travel mode.
I was a big sweaty mess and my legs were like jello. I lumber through the door and find a young woman scrolling through her phone and probably wishing she was anywhere else. She was behind a huge partition with a plexiglass divider—probably still there from COVID days.
I mean, it's still COVID days. But no one is acting like it so I am just pretending it is all over like everyone else seems to.
She notices an out-of-breath Hagrid towering over her and apathetically inquires, "Can I help you?"
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I hold up a finger as I try to gain my composure and figure out exactly what I want to say. I usually rehearse this kind of thing beforehand but with all of the anxious thoughts spiraling through my brain, I totally forgot to do that.
"I need to ask questions about records." "What kind of questions?" "Well, how long are the records?" "I'm sorry?" "What year do they start?" "What year do you need?"
I'm suddenly realizing why I rehearse these things. So I take a moment and breathe deeply. I form the proper question in my mind.
"How far back do you keep medical records?" "30 years."
I shoot my hands up like I just scored a touchdown and say, "OH THANK GOD."
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She is very confused.
"30 years, oh my god. 30 years just saved my life."
She is still very confused.
"And do you have records from Christian Northwest?" "Yes, we have everything from all Christian hospitals."
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I try to give her a brief explanation of my situation and she cuts me off. "Fill out this form."
I look at the clipboard and it is a release form.
Do you remember way back when I walked an extra mile to and from the car to get a release form that my lawyer prepared? Well, turns out they have their own version of that and I walked all that way for nothing.
I finish the form and hand it to the bored, indifferent front desk lady. She tells me someone will be out in a moment. So I sit in the uncomfortable waiting chairs and try to rest a bit. A much tinier young woman walks to the front desk partition thingie and calls out my name. But due to her diminutive stature, she is completely obscured by a pillar and I have no idea where the voice is coming from. We do this little awkward dance on either side of the pillar, attempting to see each other, and finally we both end up on the same side. She starts looking over my form and seemed a little annoyed that I left a section blank. I wasn't sure what kind of records I needed and there was no box that said "everything everywhere all at once."
What I really wanted was any document with my name on it from the beginning of time.
But I was worried about asking for too much labor from this person so I started negotiating for some reason.
I was like, "Well, like, I really need like anything you have from before like 2004. And then maybe, like, some general records after 2004. Like, the pre-2004 records are super important. But, like, I also need to show I was sick all my adult life. So if there are like, summary records? Or, like, something?"
I couldn't stop saying like. I was turning into a Kardashian. Again, some rehearsal was probably warranted.
"I just don't want to be a burden and make you dig up all of my records. I mostly need my ECT records from 2001."
"What is ECT?"
"Shock therapy. It's for depression. I just need to show I was really sick before the age of 22."
"And who is this guy on the form?"
*ramble mode engaged*
"Oh, that is my disability attorney. You see, I'm trying to get a special kind of disability, but I need to prove I was sick before the age of 22. So anything like that before 2004 would be very helpful. But like, if you have less detailed records after 2004 that is good too. Because I may need to prove I've been sick my entire adult life."
*continued rambling until I notice she stopped paying attention*
She did not need to know all of this. And I was not answering the questions she needed answered. I was nervous and babbling and oversharing and I couldn't snap out of it. And I was really concerned if I asked for too much, she was going to be upset. But then she told me all of the records were in a warehouse and she would not actually be finding them for me. She just places an "order" for them. So this weird negotiation thing I was doing to keep her from being annoyed at me was pointless.
And I also realized... this is super important.
I yell at myself, "Ask for everything, stupid! Quit trying to get halfassed records because you're worried about inconveniencing someone."
Finally I just say, "I want every medical record you have from before I was 22 until now."
And she was like, "Sure."
Well... that was easy.
I thanked the tiny lady and the bored lady and exited back into the second longest hallway. My adrenaline was surging. I kept yelling, "30 YEARS!!" in my brain. I had to tell someone this amazing news. I had to tell them right that second or I might burst. So I grab my phone from my man purse and dial Katrina.
The thing is, I only call Katrina when something really bad happens. People don't make phone calls anymore. People text! So when she picked up the phone she answered with a very worried tone. As if somehow a third parent of mine died or something.
"THIRTY YEARS!!!!" "WHAT IS HAPPENING??" "They keep records for 30 years!" "OHHHHHHHHHH!!! That's amazing!"
She probably didn't hop for joy in real life, but in my mind I like to pretend she did. I start explaining everything that just happened and how they most likely have my ECT records and then I realize I am in the middle of the world's second longest hallway and I don't remember which direction leads back to the world's longest hallway. And because I am having unusual and extraordinarily good luck, a medical worker was walking by right at that moment.
"Which way back to the elevator?" "This way!" "Oh great! Thank you!" "Or that way. There are two elevators."
There is that normal luck I recognize.
I can feel the universe realigning itself. But that is okay, because...
THIRTY YEARS, BABY!
I talk to Katrina as I traverse the two longest hallways. Thankfully I was going in the correct direction and found the proper elevator. After a nice chat about various things including problematic 80s movies, we hung up and I decided to treat myself to a hospital cafeteria chicken quesadilla. They are surprisingly delicious and I ate them every single day while my dad was in hospice. Those quesadillas were a single bright spot during one of the hardest times of my life.
So I walk up to the grillmaster and look at the menu.
"Wait, where is the quesadilla?" "We stopped making those two weeks ago."
Universal realignment completed. Luck has returned to its original state.
A male nurse in front of me commiserated. "Yeah, man. I miss them too."
I walked back out to my car both happy and depressed. An odd combination of conflicted feelings. But my day was not over yet. I needed vaccines and groceries. Naturally, I went to the grocery store with the CVS. I got my dad his last booster there, so I was confident they could take care of me. I grab a shopping cart and pick up a few things on the way to the pharmacy. I get in line at the little vaccine check-in spot. The woman in front of me is getting her booster as well. Otherwise, the pharmacy is empty and the three employees are just scrolling through their phones.
After the previous booster seeker was taken care of, I tell the woman I need a booster and a flu vaccine.
"I can give the flu shot now and set an appointment for the booster." "You never required an appointment before." "We just started a few weeks ago." "Can I make an appointment for, like, now?" "No, sorry." "Do you have the booster in stock?" "Yes." "Do you have someone here qualified to give the booster?" "Yes." "Do you have any other appointments right now?" "No."
I tried very hard to keep my composure and remain polite.
"I am disabled. It is very hard for me to get out of the house. Returning another day would be very difficult. Can you please make an exception?"
"I can get you in tomorrow."
I probably should have asked for a manager at this point. But I had no energy for confrontation. She started preparing for me to get the flu shot, but I told her I was going somewhere else. My happy news was quickly being soured by weird rules that made no sense.
But I did see a cool robot.
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I got my groceries and loaded them into my car. Some were frozen items so I made sure to turn the A/C on full blast. I called another pharmacy. It was the one run by the Jamaican family who came out to the house to give my parents boosters during the height of COVID. I asked if they could do walk-in vaccinations without an appointment. And in that beautiful accent, they replied, "Sure, come on by. We'll take care of you."
Their shop is in Ferguson. Which I'm sure the news has convinced people is a constant warzone or something. But the main street, West Florrisant, is actually really neat in spots. A lot of small businesses catering to the Black community. There was a soul food place and an African hair braiding place and a Taco Bell. Okay, it wasn't all Black-themed shops, but the pharmacy was directly next to the "Wumzy African Attire" tailoring shop that was combined with the party planning store.
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And in the back was an African beauty supply depot.
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Three shops in one! Just a very efficient use of space.
And looking through the window of the tailoring shop was like a feast of colors for the eyes. I don't know how they get fabric so bright and colorful. Really beautiful patterns too. I tried not to look like a creep while staring inside so I just walked reeeeeally slow toward the pharmacy entrance.
I just wish people knew that side of Ferguson. It's a beautiful community that was really dragged through the mud by the national media.
I digress.
I walked into the pharmacy and it was long and skinny. They had a few shelves with over-the-counter health products. But the main area was pretty empty. I guess they want to make sure they can accommodate long lines without people having to wait outside. But their working area seemed really cramped. There were some awards on the wall and news articles. Apparently, they are very involved with vaccinating the local refugee community. Something you won't see at pointless appointment-having CVS. I just felt like I was in the right place even if my frozen items were thawing and my legs were buckling from constantly forgetting my cane in the car.
The shop was run by the pharmacist and matriarch. Her son took my information. He looked about 18 and was a bit shy—but very kind and helpful. He directed me to this little partition they set up for vaccinations and they had a liquor bottle full of hand sanitizer. The label had a big "DO NOT DRINK" warning. I found a picture of the exact one on Google.
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I washed my hands and rolled up my sleeve. The pharmacist greeted me with my shots prepared. Some people have a sort of magic touch when it comes to giving shots. I'm not sure if it is a special technique or just lots of experience, but aside from a little pressure, I didn't even feel the needles going in. And my arm was only mildly sore despite the double shots.
I really wanted to thank her for sending someone to vaccinate my parents when no one else would. But I was really tired and chickened out. So I just thanked her and drove home.
I unloaded my groceries and collapsed on the couch. I could barely move at that point. Everything hurt.
But... 30 years.
I was feeling good the next day despite everything. My body hurt, but my brain was contented from my success. But there was more to do and everything was trending downhill. I called those doctors mentioned in my personal medical records. I knew it was a long shot, but I asked if they kept records from 2001. They did not. However, I thought the psychiatrist who did my ECT was dead. And it turns out he is just old-as-heck and still practicing. So even though he doesn't have records and probably doesn't remember me, I am hopeful he will write me a letter.
My other psychiatrist from back then is also still practicing. No records there either.
So far my phone anxiety wasn't getting the better of me. But I still had more calls to make and I could feel my brain starting to get melty.
My pocket knife doesn't open correctly and I couldn't get anyone to email me back from SpyderCo. So I called their office in Colorado and tried to get someone to talk to me. I got bounced to three different people and finally a guy told me that model is just hard to open. So that was pointless.
Melt. Melt. Melt.
And finally, I had to call the dreaded CPAP supply place.
It did not go well. At all.
You can read more about it at that link, but the short version is I got angrily sighed at for asking reasonable questions about what the hell "chart notes" are. And the lady refused to answer those questions for no reason I can fathom. She eventually brought me to tears and got angry at me for doing so. And it turned out the call was pointless as well.
Oh, and my lawyer was sick. Remember him? Vacation guy? Who skipped town at the exact moment I got my disability denial letter? Yeah, I had been waiting for 7 grueling, anxiety-filled days to speak with him and he gets sick the day he returns.
Brain is melty goo.
Hey, Universe! I think you are overcorrecting with that luck realignment. I appreciate the 30 years of records thing, but can you let me enjoy it a little?
Friday arrives and I still have calls to make. The CPAP lady really messed up my brain and so just dialing the numbers was freaking me out. But I decided to start with the worst first. I called the CPAP lady and she finally had her precious "chart notes" and put my order through. She was cheerful and helpful and I was confused but thankful.
I thought maybe things were looking up in my phone call adventures.
My next call was to my primary care doctor's office.
One thing you need to know about my doctor is he is a bit of a... hot mess. A very smart, capable doctor. He knows his stuff. I suspect he has an eidetic memory due to his instant recall of medication names and doses and things that happened 8 years ago and detailed descriptions of medical conditions he only heard about in school 40 years ago. Aside from that, he is kind and compassionate and he has my back no matter what.
But he is technologically stuck in the 80s. His personal life is a roller coaster of drama. He once hired his girlfriend of 2 months to work at the office and his regular staff secretly whispered "She's so awful" behind his back. (They broke up soon after.) He is disorganized and constantly running late. And he takes on tons of frustrating patients because they have nowhere else to go. I admire him for treating so many poor elderly folks without any family to take care of them, but you can tell it is extremely challenging at times and a lot of that labor is delegated to his staff.
His office manager is probably the only person on the planet who can tolerate him being a hot mess.
Unfortunately, she is also a hot mess in completely different ways.
She tries to speedrun through everything. It's probably because she has a million things to do and is trying to fit 12 hours of work into an 8 hour workday. I try to be sympathetic and understanding of that. But one of her methods for speeding things along is attempting to use her psychic powers. You will start telling her what you need and she will do this thing where she cuts you off and tries to predict said need.
"I need a prescription for..." "Your thyroid meds are due, right? I'll send it over to the pharmacy." "...insulin. But I have a question about..." "So thyroid and insulin? No problem. I'll send it over." "...increasing my dosage." "Wait, what's yer question, hon?" "Was it 50 units..." "No, it's says 100. Okay? I'll send it over. Take care." "...twice per day or 100 units once in the morning?"
Often her predictions are so bad that it actually takes a lot more time to correct her than it would if she had just let you finish speaking. And this is especially problematic for me because I rehearse everything I need to say and she constantly interrupts and so I have to end up improvising new things to say that I never accounted for. And I'm already anxious and not thinking clearly so I do a poor job of explaining my needs and it just ends up in disaster.
So I have a complicated situation. I need my entire written chart copied and sent to my lawyer. I know it is a lot of work for the office staff. They probably have to copy several hundred pages. But this is probably the most important evidence in my disability case. And my lawyer has already volunteered to pay the several hundred dollars it will cost. It's worth it because if my case goes well, I could get years of back pay.
I call and get the young woman whom I really like on his staff. She is very quiet and unassuming but secretly the star of the office. Like a ninja of competence. If you really need something done properly without mistakes, she is the best one to go to. But her job does not include handling the records, so she transfers me to the office nurse. The office nurse does not process new information well. You often have to explain things several times. And if she gives up trying to understand, she hands you off to the office manager.
The Final Boss, if you will. I was really hoping I could avoid that.
"Okay, so my lawyer needs all of my written records..."
"He needs to fax a form saying what he needs, okay honey?"
"He already faxed a release form asking for records and I brought in a new copy yesterday with all of his mailing information..."
"He didn't fax anything. He needs to tell us what he needs. I'm not seeing any form. Just tell him to call me."
"He is out sick today and he already faxed the form and I brought a second one just in case. I signed it and dated it and I watched Competence Ninja put it in my chart. It asks for everything..."
"Okay, I see it here. This doesn't look right. He needs to tell us what he needs us to send him."
"It says in the letter, 'to release any medical information, including medical records, written letters, treatment reports, testing results, or similar information.' Should it say something different?"
"I've been doing this 20 years and I've never seen anything like this. He needs to be more specific. I ain't sending him all that, hon."
"So, this is for my disability case. I already talked to the nurse about this. And I know it is a lot, but the doctor's records are the only direct evidence that I've been sick since 2001."
"So you just need something from 2001? Okay, the lawyer needs to fax something saying that."
"I need the entire handwritten chart copied and sent to the lawyer. We need a full record of my illness because..."
"This is ridiculous. You're lawyer is fucking lazy. I've never seen anything like this. And I'm worried he is not going to represent your interests."
"This is not a normal disability claim. If you'd allow me to explain I think you'd understand why I need..."
"Disability should already have all this. We shouldn't need to send this. This is fucking ridiculous and you need a new lawyer. You're going to lose your case with his lazy ass."
"This isn't normal disability. I need to prove that I've been sick for a long time and..."
"This is going to cost a fortune, you know? We charge 50 cents per page. You're going to be out hundreds of dollars."
"Okay, but I will be out thousands of dollars if I don't get this copied."
"Fuck it. I am going to copy this ONCE. No more after this. UNDERSTOOD?"
And... she hung up on me.
My heart was beating out of my chest with panic and my eyes were blurry with tears. And in that moment, I thought I had done something wrong. My doctor gave me his personal mobile number so I call him up with tears apparent in my voice. I explain what just happened and that I was really sorry and that I didn't mean to upset her. He told me she is "just like that sometimes" and I shouldn't take it to heart. They have a very serious deadline for something due that day and she was very upset and I was collateral damage. I asked him to apologize for me and he said there was no need. He said we'd work it all out on Monday when this deadline wasn't stressing everyone out.
It wasn't until I calmed down a bit that I realized I did absolutely nothing wrong. That she was just being a big jerk and taking her other problems out on me. And I was probably the one deserving of an apology. I also remembered this is not the first time she has blown up at me. She was the one who tried to make me get a ventilator instead of a proper CPAP machine years ago. She said, "My mom has one and it works fine." And I was like, "So if I travel I'm supposed to take 12 pounds of medical equipment instead of a 1 pound device that fits neatly into a backpack?"
I get why my doctor made excuses for her. She works very hard and puts up with him. He'd never be able to find anyone that would last a week doing that job. And I have a feeling he probably defended me after I called. I played what he said back in my brain and noticed a frustrated tone. Despite what he said, it seems clear he was pissed.
I can make amends and figure things out with her. That isn't an issue. But I am worried that between her and CPAP lady, all of the progress I've made trying to reduce my telephobia was erased. I really was getting better calling people. I used to need Katrina hanging out on Skype while I called anyone as moral support. And while it still helps, I've gotten a lot better at calling strangers on my own. But now, I'm not so sure.
I might ask if there is an office email address I can use from now on. If I can write out what I need there is no way to get interrupted. I can be clear and detailed and use my writing skills to communicate way better than my phone skills.
I don't know.
It was just a crappy way to end a stressful, exhausting week.
But it wasn't the end!
Friday evening my sick lawyer finally called. I had rehearsed all kinds of things I wanted to say to him. But it turns out, all of my emails already did most of the talking—proof that I write a great email. He was really impressed with all of my detective work. And he said if those records pan out, he is very optimistic about my case going forward. He also said that he was expecting a denial. And it was probably good that we got that out of the way quickly. And now we get to mount more of a defense, which is what lawyers are good at. We talked for about 20 minutes and came up with a battle plan. He explained the process going forward. But he mentioned one thing that worried me.
This could take a while.
A lot longer than I was expecting.
I explained that I currently have a runway until about June 2024. That's when the mortgage money runs out. However, my brother should be willing to release my inheritance in March. I hope. I have a hard time trusting anything my brother says anymore. But if he does, then I should have another year of mortgage payments. But I am definitely going to have a Plan B just in case my brother finds a new way to disrespect my father's wishes.
The lawyer said there is a quick thing and a long thing. The quick thing has a low chance of success. But it is worth trying. The long thing is a hearing with a Social Security lawyer. He said a lot of these lawyers are miserable and don't want to be there and don't really care. Which is a good thing because they'll just be like, "Fine, whatever." But it can take a long time to get a hearing due to backlogs.
So, as long as I can gather all the evidence and the hospital records have my ECT stuff, I think there is room for hope. A little hope. After years of chronic illness I know hope is sometimes dangerous. So I allot a tiny bit of hope to keep me going forward, but not enough hope to leave me devastated if things go tits up.
So... umm... I think that is the end of this novel of a post. I feel bad that I don't have a big climax or twist or cliffhanger. Should I add a big CGI dragon fight?
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Even though a more down-to-earth kung fu fight with my brother would be a more satisfying conclusion?
Or I could pull an M. Night Shyamalan and reveal that I've been dead for quite some time.
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This post is getting really long.
Why are you still reading this?
I am thankful that you are. I just needed to get all of that out. I hope I wrote it in a compelling way and you weren't bored.
I love you all.
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i've been having a couple of downer days recently, and i kept looking for a verse i haven't read thrice yet for some comfort, but you're age! gap verse has been a pleasant escape even though its not what i was looking for. you're writing never fails to make me feel better ari 💕💕
Here's how they met 💜
Bruce sighed. He was starting to hate talk show appearances, but at least this one had never been too bad. Angelique was chatty and fun but not grating. Her show ran as school let out. So grannies watched after their naps and kids watched getting off the bus. She ran a little something for everyone.
He assumed he was here for the grannies.
"I'm so sorry I'm late the shoot ran over and I couldn't get away."
The voice caught his attention. Not the fake starlet over dramatic gushing, but genuine distress. And he half turned to look. You looked like you came from a shoot. Straight off the pages of a glossy magazine.
"No worries, Miss Y/L/N we got your call in enough time. We'll just touch up your face and you'll be good to go," the manager greeting you, said.
Bruce smiled a little. Clearly, you were a frequent guest. You thanked him profusely and trotted off. Not needing to be told where to go. And as you go, there's several crew members you can greet by name. You've either been here a lot or worked with them before. Or both. But, it's endearing.
He turned back around listening to Angelique get her updates on where production was. "-And Y/N is in hair and makeup as we speak."
"Oh, bless her heart," Angelique said. "That's what I get calling her last minute." She turned to Bruce and held out her hand, "Are you ready?" she asked.
"As I'll ever be," he chuckled taking her hand, "You know these sorts of things aren't my forte. My oldest on the other hand-"
"Don't you worry about a thing," Angelique reassured him, patting the hand she was holding before letting it go. "Y/N is an old pro- Ah! speak of the devil!" She swooped over and kissed you on either cheek. "You look absolutely divine, is that one of yours?"
"You know it is," you tell her laughing, returning the gesture. "As if I could walk in and NOT wear my own design, you'd never let me live it down."
"So true. Darling," she said grabbing your hand and pulling you over to Bruce, "I want you to meet Bruce. You'll be on stage together today. You know it's charity week and I though it would be great to highlight all the work you do for school arts programs along side the Wayne foundation," she said.
"Hello," you tell him, holding out your hand.
"Pleased to meet you," he said, taking the hand you offered warmly. Giving you his most charming smile. You did look good. And he could tell they hadn't done much to your face or your hair. "I'm a big fan of your work," he commented.
Your smile didn't falter but your eyes narrowed slightly. And Bruce cringed internally Shit. She thinks I mean the Playboy spread, he thought. "Your last movie, the drama, especially. The range of emotion and the depth- It really was incredible."
"Thank you," you tell him. "It was challenging but I really enjoyed it."
Bruce felt his face heat when Angelique coughed and he remembered hearing that you had the ability to make someone feel like they were the only person in the room. He'd forgotten for just a second. In just that brief moment that he was waiting for an appearance. "It showed I uh- my kids made fun of me when I cried at the end-"
"Aww, Angelique gushed, "This is amazing. you guys keep up this chemistry. It'll go totally viral." She bounced on the balls of her feet and kissed your cheek again, "I'll have someone bring you a coffee, sweetie. You're going to start wilting soon."
And before you could say anything or Bruce could offer to go and get it for you himself, Angelique had bustled off to find and assistant to give marching orders to.
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lilyginnyblackv2 · 1 year
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Buddy Daddies - Episode 6 - Thought Post - SPOILERS!
First, we now know that it is May 27th, so Miri has been with Kazuki and Rei for about 5 months now. We are very squarely in the "several months later" time frame when the opening from Episode 1 would likely have occurred. (Since several is usually viewed as being between 4 - 7). I'm personally thinking that the opening bit from Episode 1 has likely already happened/passed, since Rei seems slightly (only slightly) more attentive, lol.
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It's also interesting that the bulletin about the school trip used 父兄 (fukei) instead of 保護者 (hogosha). Both can mean guardians, but 父兄 (fukei) is seen as a bit more outdated and not as all encompassing as 保護者 (hogosha), since fukei is made up of the kanji for "father" and "older brother." It makes me wonder if that little reminder was aimed specifically at Kazuki and Rei, lol.
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Also interesting that Kazuki used ママとも (mama-tomo) instead of ママたち (mama-tachi) or something similar when pluralizing and talking about "the other mothers" when saying "Of course, the other mothers all say the same about their kids." It implies that he sees himself in that group rather than outside of it.
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I really liked how the focus of this episode was in having a bit more faith in your children (and in how you've gone about raising them) and also how children can behave differently in a school setting than at home. Since I have definitely seen that before with kids when I worked as a teacher. I would mention how well behaved they were or mention something behavior-wise during Parent-Teacher Conferences, and the parents would be surprised, since it was different from their at home behavior.
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Taiga was interesting to me, especially because earlier in the episode Kazuki was mentions to Miri that she doesn't understand the difference between right and wrong yet, and many children her age are still learning that and really don't know (also, just realizing that this was said over an image of Rei, highlighting the fact that he is still kind of learning this as well). 
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I feel like that was Taiga. We learn later that he is a big Morio Kart fan, but he must have had the impression that the others weren't, so he might have acted out a bit in order to get their attention (the other girls). I had a boy, also named Taiga, who used to behave a bit similarly. He was a big fan of zombies, but none of the other kids were, so he acted out in order to get attention and fit in.
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The miscommunication between what actually happened (Miri accidentally hit his hand) vs. one of the caretakers thought a fight had occurred, is a very true and accurate thing as well. Young kids Miri's age can communicate their thoughts and feelings, but they may have a tough time communicating it properly still. 
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Like, Miri knew she didn't hit Taiga and that there hadn't been a fight, but she didn't know how to fully explain it to Kazuki, and likely a similar thing happened with the caretaker at the daycare. They eventually got it all straightened out though.
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I love, love, love that Rei was the one who read through the notebook at the end. And how he took Miri to school with little complaint. He really is wrapped right around Miri and Kazuki's fingers and will go at their pace, huh (like the lyrics of the OP). But, I also think it highlights the ways in which Rei is becoming more proactive too. He seems more engaged with being an actual parent.
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I can't really explain it well here either, but there is something subtle about the writing that really captures and shows how, with each passing episode, they are becoming more and more like a family. Rei and Kazuki's conversation in the car at the end of the episode felt like a very real conversation that parents would have at the end of the day. I felt they did a good job of making Miri and Taiga's friendship feel like a friendship too, and not any kind of 4 year old crush situation (regardless of what Kazuki's overactive imagination might think!)
Last week's episode introduced us to Kazuki's overactive imagination and his flaw of jumping to conclusions, but this week's episode showed how that could negatively impact Miri. I'm glad he has Rei to reel him in, though him imagining Miri as a delinquent girl made me laugh. Though, I am sincerely hoping that Miri turns out to be a lesbian otherwise Kazuki being so overprotective will turn into an issue in the future. Hopefully, Rei will be able to work on that with him over the years.
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The above image, of a teen Miri with a teen Taiga also reminds me of an incident when I was working at as a shadow trainer for an ALT at a junior high school in Kawasaki City in Kanagawa Prefecture. The school’s in that area don’t have a great reputation, so while the ALT I was training was teaching a class, I was outside the halls, just going for a little walk. Then I saw two of the students (a boy and a girl) go into the bathrooms together. They had made it clear previously that they were dating, so I just ended up turning around and going in the other direction, because I had zero desire to get involved in any of that - as ALTs you can’t discipline students). 
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Rei had some absolutely stellar comedic moments this episode from him asking Miri how the fight went and not caring about the violence (which makes sense given his upbringing). To Kazuki mentioning that Miri got their genes and Rei's reply of "Our what?" (Dude was 100% questioning his understanding of biology and genetics right then), to him adding the "paca" verbal tic at the end of one of his sentences, even after they were out of the mascot outfits, seems he got too in-character, lol. 
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His smug expression whenever Miri preferred him was also unexpected but great! 
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Oh, also! Before I forget, Miss Anna is a gem and she must have been so worried when she couldn’t find Miri and the others! Anyway, I hope the rest of the field trip was a breeze for her. <3
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celestiamour · 12 days
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May I request a flirty Edmund x flustered fem reader? Like the reader is trying to tend to his wounds after a battle or something but Edmund keeps distracting her by trying to show off and making teasing comments? And could it be a non-established relationship?
umm, I know you said requests were open (and you have the right to write what you want anyways) but if you don't want to do this then feel free to ignore this :))
anyways thank you! have a great day<3
ft. edmund pevensie x f! reader — the chronicles of narnia
╰₊✧ edmund flirting while you tend to his wounds┊0.7k words
contains: descriptions blood/injury & mentions of battle, ed is a cheesy menace, medical inaccuracies probably
➤ author's note: i made it a bit shorter than planned, but i hope it’s still okay and that you’ll enjoy!!
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“oh, god, edmund!” your concerned voice was a bit louder than it was supposed to be upon the sight of one of your beloved kings being brought into the medical tent, prompting you to quickly apologize to everyone in there before rushing to his side. the battle was already over and victory had been named for your kingdom of narnia, so several soldiers injured from the aftermath were being brought to you for recovery (thankfully, there weren’t so many that the youngest queen needed to go running around healing them with her elixir). “i was really hoping not to see any royalty today…”
he seemed a bit paler than usual from blood loss, but he weakly smiled at you rushing to his side, “edmund, huh? whatever happened to you insisting on calling me by my title?”
“is that really what you’re focusing on?” you immediately started removing his armor and cutting away at the fabric of his sleeve that obscured the damage for examination. it looked like an arrowhead got lodged in his arm and the wooden shaft got broken off at some point, needing to be removed in order for you to progress. “stay still and count to ten.”
“i don’t need to count to ten when the ten is right in front of— fuck!!” he almost bit his tongue in the middle of his compliment when you took the opportunity to take out the piece of metal with a pair of tongs, swiftly tossing it on a tray then applying pressure and working your magic as you were trained to.
“stop being so cheeky and let me get you cleaned up!” you huffed, trying to focus on your work instead of his flirtatious advances. it was no secret to anyone with eyes and ears that edmund fancied you and has been trying to woo you for quite some time now, but it seems that the only thing preventing you from being officially courted by him was your own denial of your feelings. even if the royal family made it clear that they would marry for love rather than status, you would still deny with everything in you that he always manages to make you falter without fail.
“a-at least if i die, the last sight i see will be the most beautiful girl in existence by my side,” he joked before hissing at the stinging sensation of you cleaning his wound. it was nowhere near the worst pain he felt or the closest he’s ever been to death, but he thought it would be funny to exaggerate the agony to get you to pay more attention to him as if it wasn’t already all on him.
“don’t say that! it’s not even bad enough to be that much of a bother, just remember to wash the wound with alcohol and change the bandages every day.”
“so i guess that means i’ll be seeing you every day since none of my servants are professionals like you are? i’m a king, you know, so it would only be expected to have the best of the best look after me!”
“… fine, i guess i’ll see you around this time for the next week for so until you’re fully healed…” his stupid smile made you get all hot and you turned around so that he couldn’t see your face for your reaction, but the very action told him everything that he needed to know.
“so do you think you could also help me up then walk be back to the palace to announce our victory and our relationship?”
“you hurt your arm, not your legs, so you don’t need my help to go back! also, we aren’t even a couple yet, there’s nothing to announce!”
“not a couple yet? so you admit that we will be someday?”
“oh, you’re insufferable!”
his cheeks ached a bit from all the smiles and laughter, able to ignore the pain like it was a mere paper cut thanks to the amusement teasing you has brought him. the day you’ll be his and he’ll be yours (although he always was yours) is close, he could feel it— and he’ll gladly milk this minor injury as much as he can if it means bringing that moment closer to him by spending more time with you.
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god-of-fandoms · 26 days
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Jay is so, so tired.
He’s only vaguely aware of his surroundings, but he can hear a lot of raised voices. It’s different from the usual jeers and laughter of the pirates, their mocking cries cutting into him almost as effectively as their blades. No, this feels more… more urgent, he supposes. People are calling out orders, their voices commanding and loud. Blearily, he wonders what they’re talking about.
“...Vitals are weak but stable for now…”
“...Needs an IV, stat!”
“...Several open wounds, possible concussion…”
He slowly realizes that he’s moving. Well, not him. He’s lying on something (a bed maybe? No, it’s hard and painful) that is seemingly being wheeled along at a very quick pace. A strange mask is covering his nose and mouth, air gently pushing its way into his lungs. He knows what this is, knows he’s used one before, but his mind is so foggy he can’t recall where or when or why. 
“... Going into shock?”
“...n’t tell, conscious but unresponsive…”
“...Fuck.”
Well, that at least he could understand.
Jay tries to move his head, but a bright flash of pain stops him. Everything fucking hurts, but that fact is barely news at this point. After all, since the beginning of his imprisonment on the Misfortune’s Keep there hasn’t been a day that’s gone by without gaining a new injury or two. (Or ten, when Nadakhan’s really mad.)
He does his best to mentally shake off the fog, trying to figure out what’s going on. He… doesn’t think he’s on the Misfortune anymore - if he was still there, there would be absolutely no lying down like he’s doing now. He’d probably be back in the Scrap N’ Tap arena or cleaning the deck or (FSM forbid) in Nadakhan’s quarters. The djinn is scarily determined to deny him any rest until he physically can’t function without it - no doubt part of his plan to make Jay give up and wish.
“... Bones healed incorrectly…”
“... Emergency surgery…”
“...ay! Jay! Is he ok?”
Now that he’s thinking, the events before his unconsciousness begin to trickle in. He remembers, with a minute jolt, the rescue attempt. How his heart had filled with relief and joy knowing that his friends did care, that they wanted to rescue him despite his lies. How that hope had faded into despair when they were recaptured, and how Cole had nearly been forced to walk the plank.
He remembers the fight, remembers the pure euphoria of his powers singing once again, without the vengestone cuffs made to suppress them. He remembers, with a wince, his friends’ decision to use their wishes to give the fight an edge, and how Nadakhan had twisted their commands into something unhelpful or dangerous. 
He remembers losing Kai and Cole to the djinnblade, the fear and sorrow as Lloyd used his last wish to help him get away. To escape, alongside…
NYA!
Jay thrashes suddenly, a reaction that seems to surprise the strangers wheeling him around. Their voices rise as they stop and try to restrain him, but that only increases his determination to move. 
“... wrong with him?”
“... hold him down…”
“...ould we use anesthesia?”
He feels hands pinning his arms and legs to the metal slab, and his panic only grows. No, he has to leave, has to find Nya, has to know that she’s ok-
He’s sobbing, he thinks, if the sudden dampness on his face has anything to say. He hears gasps as he thrashes harder, because he has to tell them, make them understand-
He manages to free one of his arms and rips off the mask. He has to tell them so they’ll let him go.
“Nya,” He cries out, his voice giving way at the end from dehydration and exhaustion. “H-have to find- find Nya, please, please…”
The voices are only getting louder as he pleads with them. His hand is once again pinned down and he screams, because he doesn’t have time for this when Nya is gone.
“Please! I need her, w-where is she, where where where-”
No one is listening to him, no one is letting him leave, and he’s quickly losing his strength. An IV slips under his skin, and whatever is in it makes his vision double. They’re drugging him, he realizes, so that he’ll calm down. 
The thought just makes him panic more.
“Nya!” He sobs, as he stops fighting the many hands holding him down because he’s so tired, so very tired, “Nya, where are you? Please...”
“Jay!”
The familiar voice calms him down before he even realizes. He sucks in a breath, tears running down his face long forgotten as he stops and listens, hoping, praying he wasn’t imagining it-
And then a figure is shoving past the strangers and leaning over his resting space. Her eyes are the first thing he recognizes, familiarity flooding him despite his exhaustion. He knows these eyes - the amount of times he’s caught himself staring into them out of the blue is honestly embarrassing. The rest of her details come pouring in immediately after, trickling into his mind like the tide. A mole just above her top lip. The small scar across her cheek from a throwing star. Cropped black hair, falling into her face amid her disarray. He knows these details. He knows this face. He knows this person.
Nya stares down at him, her eyes shining with tears. “Jay, I’m here. I’m here, you have to calm down for me, please.”
And Jay calms down. Maybe it’s the drugs entering his system, or the pain and fear and exhaustion that have been following him for months, or maybe it’s just because it’s Nya telling him to, but it’s suddenly so easy to stop thrashing and crying. He has no reason to do so anymore, after all - Nya is here and she’s alright.
“... doctors are here to help, I promise. They won’t hurt you but you need to be sedated so they can administer emergency surgery.”
Her eyes are so pretty, Jay notices drowsily. Looking into them gives him the same feeling as staring into the ocean from the Destiny’s Bounty. Like her element, Nya’s eyes have been a deep cyan ever since she mastered her abilities. His eyes are blue as well, but they’re nothing special. Nya’s are blue like the rolling waves, blue like the sea during a storm. 
“...gave me permission to be with you during surgery, you don’t have to worry about me leaving- Jay? Are you ok?”
He’s crying again, not like earlier. Before Nya arrived, he had been sobbing violently. Now, though, tears just trickle down his face as he looks into her eyes.
“Missed you,” He chokes out, and Nya’s face collapses. Her expression is a mix of sorrow and concern and, to his horror, guilt.
“I’m so sorry,” and FSM she sounds close to tears. “Jay, I’m so sorry I let this happen. We should have gone after you, but I convinced the others you’d be fine, and it’s all my fault-”
Shit, shit, shit, how could she say that? He’s the one who should be sorry, he should be begging for her forgiveness. She’s so wrong, so very very wrong, and he has to let her know.
Despite the drowsiness now pushing him down, he shakily reaches out. Nya takes his hand, squeezing gently.
“Don’t blame you,” He murmurs, “Never did, please don’t cry…”
She sniffs gently before wiping her eyes with her free hand. “I’ll try not to,” she whispers. And it’s true, she doesn’t seem like she’s about to break down anymore, but she still looks sad and guilty and Jay would rather die right now than let that look be the last thing he sees before going under. The overhead lamps of the building they’re in (a hospital, he’s now fairly sure) form a crown of light around her head. Nya might be obviously exhausted, dirty, and injured from their fight on the Misfortune, but with the way her eyes shine and the halo surrounding her, she looks breathtaking. Almost like…
“Y’r like an angel,” he mumbles, stifling a yawn. He doesn’t know why out of everything he chose to tell her that - after all, she’s made it clear by now that she doesn’t feel the same way as him anymore. But it’s true, and he’d honestly say anything to make her less sad at this point.
Through his blurring vision, he’s able to make out the slightly bemused expression Nya gets. 
“...An angel? Why?”
“Saved me,” Jay slurs. He’s getting more and more exhausted by the minute but he shakes it off as much as he can to squeeze her hand and offer her a grin. (FSM, he hopes she’s not too put out by those missing teeth.) “Came back and rescued me. Y’r my guardian angel now.”
Nya sucks in a breath. “All of us wanted to save you, Jay. I’m not special.”
“Y’ are, though. N’dakhan wanted you, but y’ still came. Brave.”
His eyes are closing again, so he can’t see Nya’s expression anymore, but she squeezes his hand back. 
“‘M sorry for ev’rything. Y’re an amazing ninja. Fans… fans are stupid. I was stupid. S’rry.”
A wet chuckle from above him.
“Thank you, Jay. That… that means a lot.”
He wants to say more, but Nya’s talking again before he can.
“I think this conversation should wait until you’re not about to fall asleep,” she says, and Jay’s relieved to hear the tone of voice that she only gets when smiling, “but for now, you need to relax. You’re about to go into surgery.”
Now that she mentions it, the stretcher (it’s a stretcher, he remembers now) had stopped moving a little while ago. The strangers - no, doctors - are bustling around the room, preparing for an operation. The thought makes him a little queasy (he’s never liked surgery, and knowing how fucked up his body is right now this one’s definitely gonna be invasive) but he doesn’t feel as scared as he would usually. Not with Nya here.
His eyes are glued shut, and fighting off the sweet tug of sleep is no longer working. He whines and holds Nya’s hand tighter. 
“Don’t leave…” he whispers.
“I’m not going anywhere, Sparky.”
He sighs contentedly at that, releasing his death grip on her hand. A doctor comes up to the stretcher and talks lowly to Nya. He’s so tired that he can barely make out what’s being said, but the meaning is clear.
It’s time.
Nya leans down to put their heads close together. Wisps of her hair gently tickle at his face.
“Sleep, Jay. I’ll be here with you until you wake up again.”
It’s with the sedative running through his veins and the soft whisper in his ear that Jay finally succumbs to his exhaustion. 
He slips into unconsciousness thinking only of ocean blue eyes.
---
Yall this is unedited and not beta read but I'm so tired.
I'll probably try and fix any mistakes tomorrow but for now I have to sleep - gotta wake up early for even more exams :(
Nevertheless I hope you like this :D tell me what you guys think, I'd love to hear your thoughts
Have a lovely day!
-Lee :)
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kryptidkhaos · 1 year
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it feels like I just made this post, but poverty never stops being a hellish experience that continues to weigh on our shoulders, ahaha.
my family needs grocery money. like, really badly.
everyone in my household is malnourished and it's starting to massive toll on both our physical and emotional health. we're exhausted and foggy-headed constantly because we've been surviving off of pb&j sandwiches, rice, and potatoes. food prices have been skyrocketing in our town and according to several different budget planners i've run our household finances through, i should supposedly be spending more than we pay monthly in rent on our shithole apartment on our monthly groceries in order to comfortably feed four adults. i'm EXTREMELY lucky if i ever manage even half of that.
our qpr/housemate has been in the hospital for the last couple of days and is finally being discharged today. after having nothing but a clear liquid diet and then a few plates of soggy hospital cafeteria food, i would really love to feed them an actual meal tonight, but there's basically nothing in the cabinets/fridge and we have a total of $20 to our names that absolutely must be saved to put in our gas tank, so we can all get around for work.
i'm....exhausted. i'm too tired and hungry to feel much else right now.
please help us if you can.
p@ypal. me/chaosqueer
v3nmo: @chaosqueer
c@shapp: @chaosqueer
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meowmeowmeowmeow4x · 2 months
Text
Dark Blue Moon and the Suffering Sun Chapter 5
I hope ya'll enjoy :D please comment and reblog, it really helps out (i just want that juicy feedback babyyy)
Two pristine white suits stood in the doorway. The laboratory's glaring white light bared down from behind the two men, framing them in an uneasy, uncertain shadow. Despite being indoors, the agents wore cold sunglasses, and one would be forgiven for assuming they were permanent fixtures on their heads.
"Our deepest condolences, Mr Wayne." The so-called Agent K said. Bruce Wayne noted not the slightest hint of condolence or sympathy.
He considered himself an effortlessly logical person. Someone who got what needed to be done, done. Someone who push away fear and stress in order to chip through the walls and find a path to victory in any situation.
But now, as he stared at the pile of bloody and torn clothes laid on the examination table, a DNA test on the side showing MATCH in bold letters, Bruce found himself blanking for the first time in years.
The first time since Jason...
Damian's tracker had blinked its last only hours before, and Bruce hopped on the first boat he could procure and organised a search part, recruiting the help of the local and governmental siren hunters, not that he was not still suspicious, but man power was man power, and his son was on borrowed time.
Time that had to be paid back.
"We could not find a body, sir. Your son has likely been consumed by the sirens."
No body. None. And that was not for a lack of trying. Divers had scoured the ocean floor underneath vigilant patrols. Sonars echoed across the bay and surrounding reefs. Nothing, not hide or hair or even a bone.
Bruce needed to stay calm, to stay effortlessly logical. There was no way to confirm a death just by some bloody clothes and a lack of a body. He needed to find a way, the only way.
"Thank, gentlemen. I'm gonna need a moment alone. I'll be returning to my room." The crack in "Brucie's" voice was not fake.
When Bruce got back to his hotel room, its emptiness like poison to his eyes, he beelined to his laptop. There he opened the staticky and blurry video showing the moment of disaster.
Damian was on the boardwalk, taking a moment for himself to get away from the hustle and bustle of yet another vapid party. All he wanted out of this trip was to see the fish...
An explosion rocked the boardwalk, sending splinters flying. The camera blurred into static. All that could be made out was a hand grabbing onto Damian's foot and pulling him under. The feed cut out.
Bruce played the recording again, and again, and again. Just like he had been doing all day. It was so blurry he couldn't even identify the colour of the hand.
Each time, his heart broke a little more. A tear came closer and closer to tearing its way out behind the barrier he'd put around his heart. The barrier these damn kids have wormed through over time.
Bruce dialed the phone. It answered on the first ring. "Dick, gather the family. I have some bad news..."
Danny buckled the last belt in his collection around his tail. Funny thing about belts, is that they're still useful even if you aren't wearing pants. The Fenton waterproof torch, the Fenton Stinger, Fenton Lipstick Laser among several other greatest hits slotted neatly into the loops of his belts along his tail. All he needed was a jacket and he might have a biker aesthetic to rival Johnny's.
Damian had spent the past hour or so pacing back and forth, trying to get a hang of his fins and occasionally bumping into a wall. Kid was itching to go out, and had taken to waving the Fenton Anti-Creep Stick around at imaginary enemies, despite having complained about the "inelegance of such a crude weapon."
"You will know suffering." He muttered. "I will make you beg for deliverance." He scowled.
Maybe Danny should introduce him to Sam. He feels like they'd get on like a house on fire.
Damian clung to his shoulder again, little arms wrapped around his neck for purchase as he swam out the cave. The Anti-Creep stick sat comfortably in a holster wrapped round the kid's waist with a knot Danny had to retie six times because he was so small. It was mid afternoon and the sun bathed the reef in bright colours like a warm blanket.
"We should keep an eye out for any other weapons. Our current stock is not enough."
Danny snorted. "You sound like a serial killer talking like that, you know?"
"I am more dangerous than a serial killer." Damian huffed. Danny could feel the offence radiating off him. To think that a himbo like Bruce Wayne could spawn someone with this many sticks up his ass. "And more intimidating."
"Please threaten me more. I'm shaking in my non-existent boots."
Damian growled. A deep guttural sound that rumbled his chest and tickled Danny's scales. Well, it would've been deep if Damian weren't half Danny's size.
"Where is your map and compass? How are we to get to Panama without navigation equipment?"
"Relaaax! We don't need a map because I've got a little something called celestial navigation." See Sam and Tuck? His space obsession was useful in his siren life!
The smaller siren head sank and banged on Danny's. "It is broad daylight."
Danny grinned over his shoulder. "Yeah that was a joke."
Damian screeched.
Danny laughed as he surfaced and got himself some fresh air. Calm waters for miles around them. Slowly he kicked off the swim, building up speed. "Relaaaax. It doesn't take a genius to figure out we need to go south."
"The only reason I have allowed you to live is because you are my only way home."
"As if I couldn't literally sit on you and you'd be helpless."
"I should invite you to try!"
Thousands of miles of blue ocean stretched on in every direction Damian looked. Below the two of them, the ocean floor lay deep enough that all Damian could see was a blur. Just above, the surface of the water rippling from slow winds blazes past. Phantom's strength lets them cut through the water at breakneck pace. The water rushing past his ears and fins reminds him of flying with Jon, if only much thicker than air in the upper-atmosphere.
Light from above, and unending darkness below. It was the darkness that Damian focused on. Occasionally, a tingle spread down his back and through his tail, like a warning, only for nothing to be visible underneath. The first few times, he shivered from surprise. Then it just unnerved him.
He'd read about lateral lines on sharks and other fish before, as a curiosity. Never had he imagined he would come to possess one himself, and never that it would feel so natural that it was difficult to parse it out from all his other sensations. The idea of not feeling this new sensation felt foreign, and unnerving, even though this form was the foreign one.
He would never admit this to anyone, but he didn't know much longer he could deny the creeping feeling on his neck. For all Phantom appeared friendly, Damian knew nothing of his motivations, or even his true character. If Phantom decided he didn't want anything to do with Damian, then what? With no weapons save a measly baseball bat, no contact with the outside world, no armour, no legs, no support and no knowledge of how to survive, he would be good as shark meat.
Damian tightened his grip on Phantom's neck. He was supposed to be above fear, and yet why was his heart pounding so hard?
A series of fast clicking echoed from the distance. Damian jerked his head to the left. Through squinted eyes hie made out long slender forms swimming parallel, their tails undulating up and down.
"Are those dolphins?" Damian muttered.
Phantom turned to the same sight, and raised his eyebrows. "Huh, I guess they are-" Damian jerked Phantom to their direction.
"We must approach them immediately!"
Phantom's body almost tumbled out of his normal swimming rhythm from the shock. "What? What for?"
"We must! The only reason I agreed to come to Amity Island was to see the sea creatures."
"Dude, you know dolphins can be total assho-" But Damian was having none of it. To solidify his point, he clamped his teeth into Phantom's shoulder, focusing them on the part where bone jutted out. Even if they couldn't penetrate, the blunt force against bone would be very painful.
"YOUCH Alright alright alright alright can you please stop biting me!"
Phantom rerouted their course, and Damian chittered in satisfaction. "Excellent."
The dolphins were as beautiful and majestic as he could have ever imagined. It was a small pod, comprising of about five adults, all swimming together in stunning synchrony. Phantom swam at a cautious distance, close enough to admire but too far to touch. How he longed to pet a dolphin... Even Damian slapping him with his tail could only move him an inch closer.
"Dude, I've dealt with dolphins before, and they're literally the most evil beings on the planet, right next to toast and Vlad."
Damian huffed. If only he had a camera on him. To swim alongside dolphins at top speed, out in the wild... He was pretty sure he was drooling, or would have been.
He'd just have to commit the scene to memory, and paint it when he got home.
The thought of home made his fins droop a little.
He felt a finger poking at his cheek. "Hey Damian, you ok? Fine, I'll give like two inches, but that's it."
Damian snappes teeth at him. "I am perfectly fine. Just thinking."
Before Phantom could get closer, Damian saw one member of the pod swerve right for them. Instinctively, he ducked, only for the dolphin to somersault overhead, twirling three times before 'landing' right of them. Two more of its podmates followed suit as they danced in circles around them. One of them came so close he could even catch its scent. It smelled tangy, like freedom and excitement.
Seeing dolphins performing manoeuvres at aquariums was one thing, sitting in dries seats what felt like half a world away from the water, but here? Damian felt the water stolen from right out of his gills.
And the best part was rubbing it in to Phantom. "What was that you said while disparaging these beautiful creatures?"
"Dude, don't these guys smell weird to you?" Even now he was suspicious? The dolphins smelled perfectly fine.
"Not in the slightest. I believe you are just trying to save face."
"Dude, I've seen dolphins before. Plenty of them, but none of them smelled this.. familiar."
Then again, now that Phantom mentions it, those moves seemed just a bit too disciplined for a wild animal. Just a bit too measured...
Damian's hackles spiked up. They were surrounded.
"Phantom, get us out of-"
Deafening squeals blasted from every direction. The noise was so horrible Damian could barely see. His ear fins felt like cracked glass. His field of view was getting darker. They were sinking.
Phantom moved Damian so he was flat against his chest and curled up. The boys crash landed into the barren sea floor. Pain erupted from every surface as debris and particles tore scales and broke fins. Phantom's screaming mixed into the water with teal blood. He held onto Damian like a vice the entire time.
They finally came to a stop. Damian's head spun and spun and his ears rang. He dimly noted the criss-crossing ropes of a fishing net entrapping them. Above him, the blasted dolphins loomed over them in circles like they were sharks, and in the centre floated a man in a large metal suit, a metal suit sporting a malicious, leopardlike grin, a grin that for a moment he could not place, until his mind cleared.
That was the last thing he ever had ever seen as a human.
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