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#I've been getting sinus headaches too
myangelscrimson · 2 years
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At first I thought the weird smell in my nose was me coming down with something, but I think it's just from crying so much
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soaps-mohawk · 25 days
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Heyyyy ik ur are tired ,just wanted to ask if you will post a chapter this week ,get well soon
Honey, I am not "tired", I am sick.
Congestion, sinus pain, headache, fatigue, sure my sore throat went away last night but now I have a cough. I can't sleep because I don't want to use my cpap while sick, so I wake every hour either from not breathing or because I'm choking on sinus drainage. (And yes, I sleep at an angle and it still doesn't help any.)
I wrote 600 words of chapter 16 on Saturday when I was getting sick, and I have not touched it since then, nor have I even thought about touching it because I am now fully sick.
I gave y'all two chapters last week. Two. You have no idea how badly I was stressing about Chapter 15 and how close I was to giving up writing and I still got the chapter up for everyone on Sunday WHILE I HAD A FEVER.
Regardless of the extra bonus chapter everyone got, I still would say it's not likely you'll get a chapter this week because I AM SICK. I want to rest and sleep and try to get better because I have things in my real life that I need to do too that I haven't been able to because I've been sick. I'm not even thinking about this fic and updating it right now.
I am begging y'all to remember I am a real person with a real life behind this blog. I get busy, I get tired, I get sick. I do this as a hobby. I post here on tumblr for free. I pump out 7k word chapters every week, and in the case of last week, multiple times a week. It's hard. It takes a lot of work and dedication just to do this alone while I feel healthy and normal, much less everything else I do during the week.
On top of that, Friday is my birthday and I'd like to take that day to do what I want to do and celebrate the crisis of getting yet another year older.
So no, chances are, there's probably not going to be a chapter out this week. I want to rest and recover and even if I did try to pump out 7k words in the next two days, I'm not going to be happy with it. I'm not going to like it. It's not going to be up to par with the standard I've set with the rest of the chapters quality-wise and I'm going to be tearing myself up because I'll have felt like I cheated y'all trying to write while sick just for the sake of getting a chapter out this week.
Now that I've got myself all worked up, I'm going to go lay down and rest and maybe have some soup because I'm hungry and for the first time in days, it does not hurt to eat. So take one of the chapters from last week and consider that the update for this week.
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moonchildstyles · 1 year
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omg could you maybe write about asterry when y/n gets her period? I feel like he would be so sweet and caring 🥺
I’m just having hard days and want to know how does Aster!h take care of his baby when she’s on her period 😔😭
Can you please write aster y/n getting her periods for the first when she stays over Harry's and maybe she leaks on the bed and she's so embarrassed and Harry is just so soft and comforts and takes care of her and he goes to buy tampons and is just being the sweetest.
wordcount: 7k+
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"Y'sure you're alright, angel? There's not anything else I can do to help?" 
(Y/N) smiled at the sound of Harry's doting. He'd been fussing over her for hours at this point, ever since she told him she was beginning to feel sick with achey limbs and a headache brewing behind her eyes. He hated when she was ill more than she did, that much she could tell from the sympathetic twist of his features that followed her everywhere she went. 
"I promise I'm okay, H. Really. I think I just need to sleep it off, but thank you for asking." 
While she sunk into the fluff of bedding Harry had cocooned around her, his features stayed stuck in that creased and stern state as he took in her expression. "I don't want y'to get sick again, love," he murmured, his hand underneath the covers settling on her hip as he hovered over her. 
While she fell in love with the way he fussed over her so intently, she couldn't help the amused smile that touched at her lips. The sinus infection she'd just barely gotten over was enough to have him taking a couple of days off taking appointments at the shop and staying up at all hours of the night while she had coughing fits and couldn't breathe well enough to peacefully sleep. She wasn't sure he'd be able to survive another cold from her. 
"I'm going to be okay, Harry," she soothed him with a soft tone, pulling her hand out from the warm confines of the comforter he tucked her into to place her palm on his cheek, "I promise I'll be okay by the morning. I just need to sleep." 
Leaning into her hand, Harry turned his face to press his lips to her palm. The tip of his nose skimmed the pads of her fingers, eyes fluttering to a close with the fan of his lashes touching at the tops of his cheekbones. "Please wake me if y'need me," Harry requested, voice muffled against her skin. 
"I promise," she cooed, sleep creeping in as her eyes shuttered in a slow blink, "Will you please lay down with me now?" 
As if he could ever tell her no. 
He made quick work of settling onto the plush mattress beside her, sheets slipping around his shirtless body as he shuffled her into his arms. Curling around her, Harry cushioned her head onto his chest, just over a blooming rose tattooed on the skin. (Y/N)'s bare legs tangled with his own, fitting his thigh between hers as she soaked in his warmth. Though a hollow ache stunted the muscles over her stomach, his hold was enough to keep her from focusing on the sluggishness touching her limbs. 
"I've got you, angel," he crooned to her, pressing his lips to the top of her head, "Love you." 
"I love you, too," she murmured, her cheek smushing into his bare chest as a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. 
It didn't take long for (Y/N) to fall into her dreams, finding Harry there waiting for her.
—————
Waking with a start, (Y/N) couldn't determine if it was her tears or a cold sweat soaking her cheeks. Her breathing came in panicked puffs as she came back down to earth from the rocky dream that was rapidly escaping her memory, trying to make sense of how the pain she dreamt could feel so real.
Darting her gaze around her surroundings, she took in Harry's bedroom around her, the man himself a steady anchor under her cheek with the cage of his arms keeping her warm against him. Her thighs ached from how tightly she must have been clenching around him, the discomfort stretching well up into her abdomen with even her limbs growing sore. She was surprised she hadn't woken him with apparently how hard she had been seeking comfort in him through her dreamy haze. 
Fluttering her eyes closed, (Y/N) urged her brain to fill with lovely, flowery thoughts to hopefully ward off another round of the nightmare she'd just barely escaped from. Her breathing returned to normal the more she relaxed, recalling one of the sweet dates Harry had taken her on in the last week to keep her thoughts tranquil. 
Until she felt that familiar stabbing pain she thought she left behind in her dreams. 
Her lungs squeezed with a gasp, her legs aching and her arms tensing around Harry at the sudden burn in her abdomen. She couldn't think straight for a moment, only processing the searing that burned her tummy before it began to slowly ebb away. 
The moment she could process more than what had just stunted every brain process, she made a horrifying note of the uncomfortable slick she felt between her legs. With every pulsing aftershock in her abdomen, she swore the wetness grew. 
She started her period, no pants on, in Harry's bed with his thigh pushed between her own. She didn't need to look to know that she had made a mess all over the bedding and, most likely, him. 
Maybe it was the less than pleasant wakeup call she'd just endured, or the high of the hormones she was realizing had been plaguing her for the past few days, but (Y/N) couldn't help the tears that filled her eyes. She couldn't stay here, couldn't keep laying on him knowing that she was grossly ruining his bedding and staining her boyfriend's leg with something she should have been better prepared for. 
Trying her best to keep from jostling him and ruining his morning any further, (Y/N) slipped out of his arms as quickly as she could. Another jolting cramp took her attention as she swung her legs over the side of the bed, the tight pressure in her muscles pulling more tears to the line of her eyes. 
Standing with her socked feet to the cool hardwood floor in Harry's bedroom, the last thing (Y/N) wanted to do was look at the mess she'd made but she couldn't avoid it. She needed to know what exactly she was going to have to apologize and grovel at Harry's feet for. 
With the comforter pulled back, she got a look at the smudge of red that had sunk into the silken fabric of his sheets. The worst yet came in the way Harry's thigh had a dark patch of her blood displayed right on his thigh, the material of his green sweats now heavily stained right where she had been laying on him. 
Taking a deep breath, (Y/N) carefully tugged the duvet up his body, covering his bare chest she had been keeping warm for him. It was with robotic movements that she made her way to his bathroom, grabbing for her duffle bag as an afterthought before she had the door closed and locked behind her. 
In the harsh lighting of the bathroom, (Y/N) could see red stains along the hem of her borrowed top, the piece distorted with the help of the tears she hadn't realized were now slipping down her cheeks. She didn't even want to think about the state of her underwear or really examine just how sticky the inside of her thighs felt. 
When the pacing of her breathing became too rapid to be soothing, (Y/N) forced herself to brace her hands against the ledge of the counter, eyes closed while she concentrated on the sound of her heartbeat rushing through her ears. No matter how close she became to finding solace in the ensuite, another deep cramp would shake her back into the moment with embarrassment following very closely after when she recalled the vision of Harry's ruined bedding and clothes.
While this was far from the first period she'd had at Harry's house, she was always very strategic about how she handled herself when she knew she was going to be with him when she started. She had her cycle charted down to the day, especially with the help of her birth control pills and the tracking system she had in her calendar app. Her period was never something that came unexpectedly; never something she didn't have sanitary products at the ready for along with a mental note to keep track of how she was feeling so she could head home before Harry saw her experience the worst of it. 
It wasn't often she would have killer cramps like she was experiencing—the kind that could steal her vision and stunted any train of thought she had going—, but when she did she usually made a point to stay home or make an excuse to get out of Harry's hair before it got really bad. She didn't want to make him deal with her. That was the worst part, she decided with her eyes still closed in the middle of his bathroom.
Harry was going to know she didn't know how to take care of herself. He was going to know that she didn't know how to stay clean or handle herself when this wasn't something new. He was going to be so disgusted if she didn't try to take care of everything before he woke up. Maybe she could somehow move him out to the couch? Tell him something about Evie being sick on the bed so she could take care of the sheets? But then, she'd have to clean his sweats and she couldn't necessarily do that without getting questions as to why she was stripping him down...
(Y/N)'s mind raced as she frantically searched through her bag, needing to fix at least one part of her mess if she could manage it. Pulling out an extra set of clothing was the easiest thing for her mind to process, but then came the problem of trying to find an extra pad or tampon she swore she had stashed in the side pocket of her weekender with these kinds of scenarios in mind. 
Dumping out the entirety of her bag with the contents of her toiletry stash being torn apart, (Y/N) felt her breathing take on a scary pace once more when she couldn't find a single emergency product hidden among her things. She felt like she was back at her parents house, sitting on the floor in her bloody underwear trying to get a hold of herself before her mother found the stains in her bed or the fact she hadn't been smart enough to properly keep track of her cycle again. As much as she wished she could curl up in the shower, huddled away in a corner as if to hide from whatever would be awaiting her outside the door, just like she used to do, (Y/N) couldn't just let this all go knowing that this was Harry's things she was ruining. 
She did what she could with a wad of toilet paper being her only tool at the moment before she changed out of her borrowed shirt—cringing when she saw the inside of her thighs. Cracking the door open, she found Harry still fast asleep in bed, the covers pulled up to his chin now that she wasn't there to warm him. At least she had a little bit more time before she would have to deal with him. 
Evie followed at her feet, doing her best to trip (Y/N) up as she made her way to the laundry room, bundled t-shirt against her chest. She worked on autopilot as she pretreated the shirt, doing the best she could without breaking out the bleach to soak out the bloody stain at the bottom of the white top she'd borrowed from Harry. All the while her cramps weren't making it easy to plan her next steps, scrambling her brain the second she tried to figure out if she should clean up Harry or the bed first. How could she concentrate when she had to remind herself to breathe?
Picking at her nails as she shuffled back to the bedroom, her eyes puffy and lips swollen from how hard she was worrying them between her teeth, (Y/N) stopped in her tracks the second she saw Harry with his fluffy bedhead sitting up in bed. 
"Morning, lovebug," he crooned, voice rough from lingering sleep, "What are y'doing up? Y'never wake up before me." His words were said with a soft smile on his lips, the sliver of his lip ring wobbling as he wet his dry mouth. 
He didn't know yet. He hadn't seen the mess she made yet. But, he will. 
"Morning," she peeped, her voice wavering as she inched towards the bathroom with a lie fumbling through her head, "I-I'm just about to take a shower. I—um—had a bad dre-dream, so." 
Harry looked much more awake as he processed her words. "Oh, darling," he cooed, running a heavy hand through his hair, "Was the dream really that bad? You look all shaken up." 
She latched onto the out he gave her, nodding her head in jerky movements as she toed the threshold of the bathroom. "Yeah, it was really scary. I-I think taking a shower would make me feel better." 
(Y/N) felt guilty as she pressed into the bathroom, feeling like she was manipulating him knowing that he wouldn't ask any more questions the second she said the shower would make her feel better. 
"Okay," he relented with a small nod of his head, concern touching at the crease between his brows, "Since 'm awake, maybe we could shower together? I promise I'd distract y'from whatever your dream was about, angel." 
The idea of him fitting himself between her thighs made (Y/N) cringe at the moment, knowing the mess that she was going to have to scrub from her skin when she finally did manage to get under the running water. 
"No, no, that's okay," she swallowed, pasting a smile onto her face though the guilt ran rampant in her system when she saw his expression fall. "I promise I'll be done really quick, though.  I'm sorry, H." 
"Don't be sorry, darling," he shook his head with a small smile touching at his lips, "Jus' come back to me soon, yeah? Miss y'already—especially without m'good morning kiss." 
She gave him an absent nod of her head before holing herself up in the bathroom, the lock clicking into place behind her. The mess of her things was still splayed across the floor, clothing rumpled and her toiletries out of order. She knew she should at least start with getting her things together, tidying the space so she could think a little clearer, but the second she felt another tingling cramp brew in her stomach before shooting up her spine, she didn't have it in her to try. 
Sinking down to sit in the mess on the floor, her back to the door, (Y/N) couldn't cry anymore. She tucked her legs up against her chest, chin resting in the gap between the hills of her knees while she stared right at the fogged glass doors to the shower. Her eyes unfocused as she allowed the swirling of her mind to play out the worst scenario in her mind. 
Harry was going to get out of bed, realize there was something sticky on his leg. When he would look down at the red marring the material, the stain too far gone at this point to successfully soak out without ruining the integrity of his sweats. She could only imagine his disgust when he realized what it was, putting the pieces together as soon as he noted the matching blot on the sheets. Harry was patient with her at all times, she knew that, but there was only so far a person could be pushed. 
This could be his breaking point, (Y/N) worried. She was ruining his things, and making a mess all over his house. There was no way he could going to be alright with her hiding away from him either, instead of going to him and taking whatever scolding she knew she deserved. This was exactly why her mother was always so adamant about her keeping these matters away from her father; it was gross and nothing a man should have to deal with, especially if it's because she couldn't keep herself together. 
With her fingers tapping across her knee, something to keep her from further picking at the pink manicure painted over her nails, (Y/N) figured she should at least hop in the shower, if only to keep up the facade of her lie. The second she thought to stand, gather her toiletries and clean herself up, she couldn't find it in herself to make a move. Any second Harry would come looking for her, she was sure. Then she would have to explain herself and hope he didn't kick her out before she was able to clean his sheets. 
As if she had manifested it, a quiet knock sounded on the door, the wood vibrating behind her back. "(Y/N), love, are you alright?" 
Taking in a deep breath, (Y/N) gathered the courage to answer. He didn't sound mad at least. "Yeah, I'm okay. Sorry I'm taking so long." 
"'S alright, baby, don't need to be sorry," he murmured through the door, hesitance coating his words, "Are you sure you're okay?" 
"Yeah, just tired," she peeped, curling her hands into fists to keep from picking at her nails. Harry would be upset if he saw her nail polish any more chipped. 
A sigh could be heard from the other side of the door, heavy and defeated. "Nothing's wrong? At all? There's nothing y'wanted to tell me or ask me for?" 
Why wouldn't he just leave? Maybe if she had enough time, and he left the bedroom, she could sneak in and steal his sheets and soak them in the shower. That might work, right? He'd surely notice the sheets missing, but she could come up with some story, right? 
"No, I'm okay, Harry. I promise." She cringed as she spoke, feeling a wave of shame pump through her system knowing that she was using her promise against him. 
A beat passed, (Y/N) swearing she could feel his presence on the other side of the door despite the time that passed. She knew she was right the second she heard a soft thump against the door, as if he were matching her position on the other side of the wood. 
"So, y'wouldn't be upset over the sheets or anything? Or the shirt that's in the laundry right now, even though I know y'were wearing it when we went to sleep?" 
(Y/N) couldn't help the shaking sob that ripped from her throat at the mention of her actions. Hearing it all out loud hurt almost as bad at her cramps. The anxiety opened a pit in her stomach that felt like she was being sucked in from the inside out, her entire center of gravity being placed in her middle like she was going to disappear if she moved too suddenly. But, she wouldn't be lucky enough for that to really happen. 
"H-Harry," she peeped, the call of his name broken and quiet, "I'm so sorry. I-I'm so sorry." 
"Oh, angel," he cooed, tone a lot softer than she would have anticipated after hearing her admission of guilt. "Can I come in, baby?" 
She didn't make a move to unlock the door. She didn't know what she would do if she opened that door and he didn't look at her with his tender eyes and softened features she'd grown so accustomed to. 
"Please, (Y/N)?" 
But, it couldn't heart worse than hearing the defeat in his tone as he pleaded with her. 
With shaky legs, she stood to unlock the door before skittering off to sit at the edge of the tub stationed on the other end of the bathroom. That would at least give them some space if he saw her and a spark of anger ignited over how much of a mess she was acting. 
"You can come in," (Y/N) allowed, dropping her gaze to her hands that were bundled in her lap. On the brightside, with the distraction of her anxiety and the pending doom she felt over Harry witnessing her, she could barely make note of the cramps she vaguely felt bunching her abdomen. 
It was quiet, the way he slipped in, padding over the tiled floor before he surely paused at the sight of her belongings a heap on the floor. The sound of blood rushing through her system roared through (Y/N)'s ears, blocking out his advances until he was right in front of her. Harry, with his hair now tied back in a loose bun on the back of his neck, eyes scrubbed of sleep and a clean pair of sweats on his bottom half came into her line of sight. He crouched in front of her, warm hands settling on the cuffs of her knees while the gleaming green of his eyes fought to make contact with hers. 
"Angel?" he crooned, his voice a cushion for the runaway train of thought she lost control of.
"Y-Yeah?" Don't pick your nails, don't pick your nails, don't pick your nails. 
"Oh, baby, c'mere." 
That was all it took for her to clamor onto his lap, grateful at least for the extra layers of her sweats and the toilet paper she had utilized so she could settle over his thighs. The sobs she thought she was finished with made a vengeful comeback as she tucked her face into his throat, arms a shaking cage around his neck. She shielded herself as best she could, reveling in the calm before the storm she still couldn't convince herself she'd breezed past. There was no way he couldn't be at least a little angry with her, she knew that. 
But, all Harry did was run his hands in soothing circles along the planes of her back, blunt nails adding a calming clarity as they pressed in through the fabric of her top in the wake of his fingers. He pressed absent kisses to her shoulder, nose skimming along the neckline of her top as he cooed sweet nothings she wished she could hear. A steadying hand grasped her waist, occasionally running a small circuit over the dip. She was sure she didn't know just how soothing that was for her cramps, and she wasn't going to tell him in case he stopped. 
(Y/N) couldn't be sure just how long she sat wrapped in his arms, crying her heart out until he had successfully comforted her enough to get her breathing in check and tears to quit flowing. She indulged herself by giving him a soft kiss on the curve of his throat, a quiet thank you she didn't think she could properly articulate through her croaky voice even if she tried. 
"'S alright, baby," he crooned to her one last time before his hand on her back shifted to sift his fingers through the strands of hair on the back of her head. Using a gentle grip, he pulled her away from the home she made in his neck, giving the only solace she could find in the baby curls on the back of his neck that hadn't made it into the bun. 
Struggling to meet his eyes, (Y/N) settled with a view on his chest, noting the lines of ink needled into his skin. She hadn't noticed that budding rose before. 
"Will y'look at me, lovebug?" Harry requested, his fingers on the back of her head massaging he scalp. As much as she didn't want to, she knew he deserved at least that much from her. It was hesitant, the way she lifted her head and made contact with his softened eyes. She couldn't help but to search for any signs of a changing tide. "Hi, you," Harry cooed to her, voice barely a whisper. 
A shaky smile made its way on her lips. "Hi." 
Her eyes fell closed as he craned his neck, pressing a tender kiss to the full of her cheek, lips lingering. "Y'okay to talk to me now? Or do y'need a little bit longer?" 
"I'm okay," she lied. 
The careful smile that molded his features was enough to have (Y/N) soothed while she waited for his reaction now that he wasn't prioritizing taking care of her. "What happened this morning, baby? Did y'really have a bad dream, or was it something else?" 
"I really did have a bad dream," she peeped, finding flecks of blue and gold in the heady green of his eyes, "But, when I woke up I realized I made a mess, so I..." 
(Y/N) didn't know how to finish her sentence, allowing the unfinished sentiment to hang in the air while she dropped her gaze from Harry's. This was too embarrassing for her already, she didn't know if she could handle explaining it all to him. 
"So, y'got up to clean up?" Harry prodded, keeping his steady hand on her waist. (Y/N)'s response came in the form of a soft nod. "Okay, I understand. But, why did y'hide from me, baby? I would have helped you, you know that." 
Her gaze grew watery at his offer. He shouldn't have to worry about cleaning up after her like that. She shouldn't have messed up, forgot what day it was. This was her responsibility. 
"You don't need to do that," she whispered with a shake of her head, "I'm sorry I didn't take care of myself. I ruined your things." 
"Darling," Harry pressed, dropping his head to somehow wiggle his way into her line of sight, "What are y'talking about? Y'didn't ruin anything." 
"Yes, I did, Harry," she cemented in as stern of a voice she could muster with a waver, "I st-stained your clothes and ruined y-your sheets. I was too stupid to pay attention and n-now you have to take care of this even thought its my fault. I'm so sorry." 
Harry didn't bother to soothe her with any cooed words then, catching onto the fact she wouldn't hear a single syllable with the way her heartrate kicked up. Instead, he tucked her back into his chest, face in his neck as he rocked her where he sat on the bathroom floor. He only spoke when he sushed every attempt she made at apologizing. 
Once she came down for the second time in his arms, he chanced another pull of her hair to get her back into his line of sight. "Y'alright?" 
Her hum of confirmation didn't sound very convincing even to her own ears. 
She watched as Harry sighed, probably thinking the same thing as he shifted his hold on her hair to cradle her cheek on his palm. "Is that why y'were hiding from me, baby? Were y'worried I was going to be mad?" 
The childish nod she gave him felt fitting given the fact she could barely speak without sending herself into a crying fit. 
"Oh, angel," he crooned before pressing a delicate kiss to the corner of her mouth, "I could never be mad at y'for something like this, do you understand me? None of this is your fault, I know that. I know y'didn't mean to do any of that, okay? I'm sorry y'felt like y'had to clean up all by yourself." 
"But—" 
"No," he sternly cut her off, features still molded with soft edges and rounded corners, "I'm not mad, and there's no reason y'need to be mad at yourself either. It happens, baby, and there's nothing to be upset about. Y'can't control this kind of thing, and I want y'to understand that I would never expect that from you. Y'shouldn't either." 
"I made everything dirty, though," she peeped, her voice a hair away from cracking had she spoken any louder, "I ruined y—" 
"You didn't ruin anything, okay? We can wash the sheets, and I've already got our clothes in the machine. Nothing is ruined or broken, okay? 'M only worried about you now." 
Taking in a deep breath, (Y/N) put in the effort to match his gaze. "Promise?" 
"Promise what, lovebug?" 
"Promise you're not mad?" 
The quiet curve of his lips that further softened the planes of his features had (Y/N)'s heart calming. He wouldn't be able to fake that. "I promise you 'm not mad, darling. I cross my heart, swear on Evie, everything. 'M not even a little mad, just worried." 
Harry would never, ever swear on Evie if he didn't mean it. 
"Thank you," she whispered before closing around him in a hug, wilting into his chest as her eyes fluttered closed, this time with relieved tears in her eyes. 
"I love you so much," he murmured into her shoulder, dropping an accompanying kiss to drive home the sentiment. 
(Y/N) finally felt her features relax as she let a smile tug at her lips. She could stop clenching her teeth now, something she hadn't even realized she'd been doing. "I love you too, Harry. So, so, so much." 
Silence settled over the bathroom as (Y/N) wrapped her head around her reality and stopped letting her anxieties twist it otherwise. Everything was alright, Harry had promised. 
"Do y'want to go back to sleep? I still need to wash the sheets but we can have a sleepover in the living room, if y'want?" Harry finally asked after a few minutes, breaking the quiet of the room.
She wrinkled her nose at the idea of going back to sleep feeling as dirty as she did. She still needed to wash her thighs and change into a new pair of panties now that she could think clearly. Toilet paper would have to do for now until she could make it to the store for proper products, but she could work with that. "I want to shower. I feel gross." 
A breathy laugh fell from Harry's lips as he reluctantly pulled his arms around her, only to help her stand up with him. His legs were wobbling as he stood to the full of his height, surely the cold tiles he knelt on having made him go stiff. "Alright. While y'take a shower, I'll go to the shop, okay? I can grab some things for you and when 'm back we'll take a nap. That sound good?" 
"That sounds really good, Harry, thank you." Looking up at him she gave him a watery smile, eyes still puffy and skin still warm from her earlier sobs. 
Harry gave her his own lopsided smile before giving her a small kiss to the tip of her nose. Letting go of her hand, he made it his job to start cleaning up the mess of her things on the floor, collecting her toiletries onto the counter so she could do what she needed with them while she bathed. "Anything specific y'want from the shop?" 
"No, no, just... pads and stuff," she peeped out, not able to meet his eyes at her request. While he proved to be much more mature and not crazy about these circumstances, she still wasn't used to even acknowledging she had a period to anyone other than Sarah. 
"Got it," he beamed, settling her special shampoo and conditioner on the counter alongside her favorite body lotion, "Take your time while 'm gone alright? Relax a little, and then when I'm home I'll take care of you." 
(Y/N) could only manage a soft nod her head. If she tried to speak she feared she would burst into tears again. 
God, she loved him.
—————
"I grabbed a couple of different ones since I wasn't sure what y'liked. Anything that y'don't use we can jus' keep here, though, yeah?" 
(Y/N) watched as he emptied his grocery bags with a glass of water in her hands, swallowing down the medicine Harry had dosed out to aid in her cramps. Her hair was damp against the back of her neck, the tendrils slowly drying after the calming shower she spent the better part of an hour taking. She indulged in the extra time Harry encouraged her to take, scrubbing with her favorite exfoliants and conditioning her hair with the sweetest smelling cream in the bunch. Every soap, balm, and lotion she swept across her skin helped her feel more and more like herself—like this morning had happened years ago instead of only hours. By the time she finally pried herself from the steamy bathroom, dressed in a set of Harry's clothes he sat out for her along with the proper products to help with her period, she felt worlds better despite the cramps still racking her system. 
Harry had been waiting for her out in the living room when she emerged fully dressed and had her hair braided back while it dried. He had jumped to his feet when he saw her, hands on his hips as he scanned over her as if to check for injuries in his absence. Once he was soothed, he had her taking her medicine before leading her to the kitchen where the rest of his grocery bags were laid out, a crease in his brow as he began unloading them. 
"Y'can also take some back to your place, too, if y'need them," he mused, pulling out package after package, "I jus' don't want y'to have to go without for any reason ever again, love. Did I do alright, though? The one I left for y'was alright?" 
Though she was a little shy at his line of question, she still felt her heart skip a beat over how hard he was trying. "It's perfect, H. Thank you." 
A soft smile took his features, getting him to slow down before reaching for the next bag in the bunch. Out he pulled a bundled pair of pajamas, the fabric fleecy and warm, dyed a soft pink hue. "I got y'these, too," he murmured, offering her the set as he laid them out on the counter for her to look at, "I figured y'would want to wear something familiar after getting out of the shower, but y'can change into these if y'want. They were the softest they had and when I saw them in pink I knew I had to get them for you." 
(Y/N) let out a breathy laugh at his words, trailing her fingers over the softened material that she really might change into later. He had been right, though, she decided. She was happy to be wrapped in Harry's clothes and his scent after the whirlwind of a morning she was having. 
"Fuck, I probably did a little too much now that 'm looking at it all," Harry murmured, amusement touching his features as he pulled out a small pink frog plush from the same bag, "but, I got this for you, too. Seeing y'so upset this morning really got me, love, I just wanted to get y'anything I thought might make y'smile. 'M sorry." 
"No, no, no," she shook her head, hurriedly grabbing for the plush to look at the smiling features and blushing cheeks on the frog, "I love him, H. Thank you. You're making me feel so much better." 
Just as she had hoped, she could see the way his worry shifted and melted from his shoulders, his features settling into something much more tranquil at her reassurances. 
"Yeah?" he pressed, dimples deep in his cheeks as he looked up at her from where he was folding his tote shopping bags to be put away until next time, "I also got y'that soup y'like. The miso one with the soy sauce flavoring even though I know you're just going to add your own anyway."
"Oh my gosh, you found some?!" (Y/N) chirped in her spot, bouncing on the balls of her feet, "They've been out the last, like, three times I've gone to the store!" 
Suddenly, his smile turned a bit sheepish at the corners as he dropped his gaze to where he was folding the final remaining bag. "I—uh—I went to three different shops. That's why I jus' got home a few minutes ago." 
"Harry," her voice came out like a pouted whine as she canted her head, "Are you serious?" 
"I jus' wanted to find it for you, angel, that's all. Don't need to get all pouty on me, okay?" 
Despite his request, she didn't care before she was rounding the counter with the glass of water being pushed off to the side. Fitting herself against his chest, (Y/N) squeezed him as much as she could muster, wanting him to feel how much she loved and appreciated every moment with him—especially these ones. 
"I love you," she murmured, the words earnestly made against his chest. 
Harry didn't even hesitate before he was gathering her in his own arms, dropping his head to press a kiss to the crown of hers. His breath ruffled the slowly drying hairs right on top with his nose skimming the strands. 
"I know, baby." 
—————
Harry hovered over (Y/N) with his lips pursed in a tight line, brows knitted in the middle. "Your cramps are still that bad, love? Are y'sure y'want to eat?" 
"Yeah, I'll be alright," she muttered, letting out the deep breath she'd been holding during the lingering wave of pain through her abdomen, "I just need to get through until I can take more medicine." 
Sighing, he checked the time on his phone. "That's not for another hour. Are y'sure y'want to eat? I don't want you to feel sick." 
"I don't feel nauseous or anything, though, really." The second she had shared just how intense her cramps could become if she hadn't prepared for them—just as was the case today—, he'd been worried about whether or not she felt sick at every turn. "Eating will help, H." 
Though he heaved a sigh, it seemed that was all the convincing it took for him to relent. Twin bowls of miso soup were laid out on the coffee table before them, Harry having insisted they have a 'picnic' in the living room so she could stay with her heating pad, heaps of blankets, and plush frog on the couch. Just as promised, he brought along a bottle of chilled soy sauce from the fridge, knowing just how much she liked to add the real deal instead of the powdered packet that came along with her favorite miso soup mix. 
"Thanks, honey," she smiled up at him, watching as the murmured pet name had the desired effect on him. She was never one for pet names, the feeling odd when she would rather call her love by his name, but she knew he would understand just how much she appreciated his efforts if she tacked on the sentiment.
"'M your honey?" he asked, a blush rising to tint his cheeks and touch at the tip of his nose, "What's that for?" 
"No reason," she said in between spoonfuls of soup, bits of tofu and seaweed leaves swirling through the broth, "Just wanted to call you that." 
Harry didn't make any comments in response, only tucking her into his side and pressing a delicate kiss to the side of her head. He didn't bother to unwind his arm even as he started eating, keeping that steadying hold on her waist with his fingertips overlapping onto the heating pad pressed to her tummy. 
"We can watch some of your shore show, if y'want," Harry offered in a mumble, pretending as if he wasn't as entertained with her reality t.v. choices as she knew he was.
"Really?!" she bubbled, bouncing in her spot though she was careful to keep from spilling her food, "I still need to show you the second season. That will show you why I love the show so much, I promise. Everyone fights at least twice during the whole season." 
"Is that so?" he hummed, nodding his head with an amused tilt to his lips, "And, we like when they fight?" 
"Of course," she said with a 'duh' attitude leaking into her tone, "They're all stupid, but the ones that we really don't like lose every time." 
"Alright," he relented, passing along the remote to her so she could pull up the show, "But, you'll have to pause it when I need to get y'some medicine. I don't want to miss any of this if 's so important." 
She didn't have it in her to argue with him while he was being so sweet. 
"Okay, honey." 
"Angel, stop, you're making me blush. Put on your little show, and hush." 
—————
Harry's face lit up when (Y/N) exited the bathroom clad in the soft pink pj's he'd brought home for her today. She still had his hoodie covering her torso, but the fleecy bottoms were snug over her freshly exfoliated legs. 
"You're wearing 'em! Are they as soft as I thought they would be?" Harry beamed as she made her way to the bed, her spot vacant and waiting for her aside from her new froggy plush laid against her pillow. 
"They're really soft, H," she cemented, crawling into bed bedside him with her hair fluffed and free from the braid she twisted it back in earlier. "We need to go back and get you a pair." 
"Yeah? You think so?" he asked, wrapping her in his arms as she settled against his chest, covered pulled up and tucked to her chin. 
"Mhm," she hummed with a smile as she angled herself to look up at him wither her cheek smushed into his bare chest. 
He was tired, that much she could tell from the soft set of his features and the touch of darkness gathering under his eyes. She knew he hadn't napped with her when she fell asleep on the couch, but she hadn't realized just how badly he may have needed it. But, she knew he wouldn't have settled even if she pleaded. He was much too occupied with ensuring her heating pad was stuck to her tummy and she was drinking w enough fluids to make up for what she was missing out on with her cycle. 
Maybe, she thought, she could use a bit of his exhaustion to her advantage and convince him to sleep in with her tomorrow. And, if she lucked out and got up before him, she could treat him to some breakfast.
"What?" he asked, interrupting her admiring. Harry's own smile was saddled with a pair of deep dimples on the apples of his cheeks, lips softened and pink to match the color blushing the tip of his nose. 
"Nothing," she hummed, feeling a little silly to be caught starting as if she had made any attempts to hide it. "Just wanted to tell you that I love you, and thank you for today. It really means a lot." 
"Darling," he crooned to her, petting his hand through her hair, "Don't need to thank me for any of that, okay? I don't know where y'got the idea that I was going to be upset with you, but I need y'to know hat I didn't do anything special today. I took care of you because I love you and 's the right thing to do, okay?" 
"But, it's special to me, H," she insisted, voice a whisper in the quiet of his bedroom, "I would never expect anyone to do that for me, and I just—I don't know. It just really means a lot to me and made me love you even more." 
Harry shifted under her, using the hand he had petting her hair back to pull her face to his. Pressing his lips to hers, he made use of the gentle contact to get his own point across. he loved her and would do this for her no matter what, because he wasn't stupid and wasn't insane enough to be upset with her over something out of her control. She shouldn't expect anything less than this treatment because it was what she deserved. 
"Today made me love y'more, too," he murmured against her kiss, a slight nudge of his nose against hers pulling a smile from her lips. 
"Really?"
"Mhm," he hummed, pulling away just enough to match her gaze. "Y'make me feel needed, like y'want me around even if 'm only doing things you're more than capable of doing for yourself. I like knowing that y'want me to do it anyway—that y'trust me." 
Brushing a gentle hand over the height of his cheekbone, fingertips tracing over the planes of his face in a delicate touch, (Y/N) felt her emotions take ahold of her once more. "Because I do need you," she whispered, voice wavering as she tried to keep her tears at bay, "You make me feel wanted." 
Touching his forehead to hers as best he could while still getting a view of her pretty eyes, Harry allowed a lazy smile to touch his features. "We make a good team then, don't we?" 
Her smile wavered at his crooned words. "The best." 
Harry couldn't stop smiling, even when he kissed her until she fell asleep. 
—————
its finally here ahhhh!! thank you sm for reading and sorry for any mistakes! if u have any questions or requests of your own please snd them in!
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amarguerite · 2 days
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I saw your post about the tropification of fiction and it's something I've been thinking about recently too so I hope you don't mind my throwing in my two cents. My personal theory about it is that it's a consequence of a broader shift where stories are written "to" a trope the way fanfic tends to be but without a canon that it's transformative of/a reflection on. In the sense that it gives a reader who understands the tropes/norms of a genre a very clear idea of what they're in for narratively speaking in the same way someone can broadly get what a "coffeeshop au" will encompass even for vastly different source material.
My guess is that it's probably a result of the way a lot of marketing for books is done on social media where it's a lot more efficient to say a story is "enemies to lovers!" rather than actually explaining which of the endless permutations of that it is, which then incentivises writing to whatever expectations readers have of that trope which enforces those expectations and so on and so forth.
It's why so many of the popular on tiktok etc. books end up feeling so samey, to me at least, because a lot of the way stories are put together rely on gesturing to those trends above even like, narrative coherence in some cases haha.
Anyway, I hope that you feel better soon!
This is a fascinating take— the social media wordcount is, I think, a crucial factor in play.
And thanks! I could do without this sinus headache lol
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frodo-with-glasses · 7 months
Text
The Ring and Invisibility
Indulge me for a second as I contemplate this little piece of Ring Lore that I've often overlooked: "And if [a mortal] often uses the Ring to make himself invisible, he fades: he becomes in the end invisible permanently, and walks in the twilight under the eye of the Dark Power that rules the Rings."
I've read a fair bit of debate, on this site and others, about just what the Ring's powers are and what it can do. Some claim that the Ring just enhances the "power" that its bearer already has; for instance, the reason it makes hobbits invisible is because they're already nearly undetectable to the Big Folk—the book is rather coy about whether or not this is a "magical" ability, because of course the hobbits wouldn't consider it magical if it's normal to them—and the Ring merely amplifies this power. By this logic, the movies making Isildur turn invisible when he put the Ring on is actually an error, because the race of Man doesn't naturally have the "power" of being undetectable.
However! In this paragraph, Gandalf isn't talking about a Hobbit, but a mortal (as opposed to the Elven smiths who first forged the Great Rings). He isn't even talking about the One Ring specifically, but one of the Great Rings in general. To me, this implies that anyone who possesses any Ring of Power can use it to "make himself invisible", with the catch 22 being that this is especially perilous for mortals because they're not strong enough to deal with Prolonged Exposure to Invisibility Spells.
(To back up the point, we have this passage from later in the chapter: "For Isildur was marching north along the east banks of the River, and near the Gladden Fields he was waylaid by the Orcs of the Mountains, and almost all his folk were slain. He leaped into the waters, but the Ring slipped from his finger as he swam, and then the Orcs saw him and killed him with arrows." This would imply that the orcs didn't see him until the Ring fell off; which suggests to me that Isildur was, in fact, invisible.)
This adds to the side effect we're already well familiar with: the "stretching". To an immortal elf, continuing to exist indefinitely would be no problem. They were doing that anyway. But it's terribly strenuous on mortals, whose bodies have a shelf life. Likewise, the peril of turning invisible too many times seems to only apply to mortals; perhaps an elf could use a Great Ring to turn invisible as often as they want and suffer no ill side effects.
(Sort of like how most people can eat as much cheese as they want no problem, while I can only have a little bit of dairy or I'll risk a major sinus headache. But that's neither here nor there.)
Frodo's conversation with Galadriel will delve more deeply into the clairvoyant and controlling powers of the Ring, so I'll table that discussion until we reach Lothlorien. But as a writer myself—who's trying to build her own fictional world and magic system—I find it's a fun and useful exercise to pluck a single rule out of the magic system and think about the logical extremes and plot possibilities that can come out of it. The invisibility rule is a fantastic example; there are so many different ways you could play with it, if the story had allowed for it.
Could the old elven smiths make themselves invisible with their Rings? Would they suffer the same compounding side effects, or not? Can Galadriel make herself invisible? Can Gandalf? For the One Ring, just putting it on will turn anyone but Tom Bombadil invisible; if that power is accessible to Galadriel and Gandalf, I'd have to assume they have the power to toggle it on and off, because they're wearing their Rings all the time. If being more easily detected by the Enemy when invisible wasn't such a problem, how might that ability have been used to their advantage in the story?
How many times does a mortal have to turn himself invisible to get stuck that way? Is the change gradual, or sudden? Even with all the times Gollum used the Ring, he still was very visible; Gandalf calls him "thin and tough", as if stubbornness alone overcame the fading effects. Frodo is more than once described as being "slightly translucent" or "like a clear glass", but that probably has more to do with the wound he received on Weathertop than it has anything to do with the Ring. Obviously the Ringwraiths are the final product of this hideous process—existing, but having no visible form or shape—but what do the in-between stages look like? Can you imagine what the story would be like if the invisibility laid hold of its victims sooner, and Gollum was partially invisible?? It's simultaneously cool and horrifying. And to think Frodo himself was almost a wraith, a ghost, an apparition, shuffling formlessly around the halls of Bag End...chills, man. Chills.
Obviously I don't claim to be an expert on this topic. I'm no Tolkien scholar, just an enthusiastic fan. So if any truly eggheaded Tolkien nerds out there would care to share their insight in the notes, please do so! I'm always eager to learn more. And if I misunderstood the Professor's choice of words here, feel free to correct me. This line just caught my eye, and I figured it'd be fun to dig into it.
I don't know how to end this essay. Uh. Don't do rings, kids. Your face will get stuck that way.
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muertawrites · 2 years
Text
Tequila Sunrise (Eddie Munson x Reader) [18+]
Summary: You get drunk with your best friend after his gig, and the only evidence you have of anything that happened after you blacked out is a stack of Polaroids you find in his dresser the next morning.
Warnings: tequila, naked Eddie, explicit descriptions of s*xual acts, anxiety, scrambled eggs (sorry vegans)
Word Count: 2k
Author's Note: inspired by / accompaniment to this photo edit by @eddieonfilm. it's an unofficial collab but a beautiful one. this might be my favorite fic i've posted. characters are aged up bc i am also aged up. also whenever i censor s*x in my descriptions i always imagine myself saying it like miranda hart. just. very awkward and tall and british. trying to be decent for bbc standards and practices.
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(edit by eddieonfilm. original by @zerlinity )
The first thing that hits you is the pain. It's achy, throbbing, like a sinus infection conjured up by the devil himself. You roll over, groaning at the way your head feels like it's filled with bricks.
Something heavy shifts around your waist - a grip you don't notice until it tightens. Someone else's skin against yours.
Your eyes shoot open. You're not asleep on the pull out couch in Eddie's living room like you remember agreeing to last night. You're in his bed. And you think you might be naked.
Panic overrides your growing hangover and you sit straight up, trying to remember something, anything, from the previous evening. It was late when the gig ended, and Eddie didn't like the idea of you taking the long train ride back to your apartment alone - he offered to let you stay at his instead, which you did. You got slices of pizza from the place downstairs; came up and ate them with a couple beers. You were both already tipsy, and Eddie kept teasing you about what a lightweight you are.
And of course you opened your big stupid mouth and bet him you could drink him under the table.
That's when the tequila came out. That's where your memory ends.
To your relief, you look down and find your torso covered by a faded black t-shirt. You're horrified all over again when when you realize it's ridden up over your waist, everything south of it exposed. Your panties are on the floor beside the bed.
There's a sharp intake of breath beside you, followed by the rustling of sheets and a dip in the mattress. You look over and see that Eddie is also awake, shirtless, and now laying on his back, staring up at the ceiling. After a moment he side eyes you, not moving his head but meeting his lovely brown irises with yours. Despite yourselves, you smirk at each other.
"You look like shit," Eddie comments.
"I feel like shit," you reply.
He chuckles, running his large palm down his face.
"Yeah... me too."
His hand finds your back, rubbing it gently as you lean over with your face in your palm, trying to ride a wave of pain that crashes at the inside of your skull. You wonder how he can be so calm. Casual about something so intimate.
"... Did we fuck?" he wonders.
You let out a heavy sigh, the question making your headache that much worse.
"If we did you weren't very good at it," you remark. "I'm not sore at all."
The pillow he'd been laying on smacks against the side of your head. You shriek, and Eddie grins despite the grimace that pinches his brows.
"Not so loud," he groans. "I feel like I've got a knife between my eyes."
"Shoulda thought of that before you brought out the tequila."
"I'm not the instigator here, tuts."
He sits up and nestles his chin into the crook of your neck, giving you an impish smile.
"I think you lost your little drinking game."
You plant your hand over his face and shove him off you. He chuckles as he flops back down onto the mattress.
Tugging your t-shirt (which you now realize is actually Eddie's) down so you don't reveal anything more than you want him to see with sober eyes, you crawl off the mattress, intent on finding anything with caffeine you possibly can in his kitchen. You pause when something on his dresser catches your eye.
A Polaroid.
A Polaroid of your tits.
You snatch it up, staring at it in horror. What's even worse is that there's more of them, scattered across the cigarette-burned wood and stained carpet below. You sift through them, thankful at least for the fact that they aren't just of you. Many of them are of Eddie - holding a lighter to the cig between his lips, head flung back as he takes a shot, tongue hanging out and middle fingers up, mid-laugh.
His bare torso spread out on his sheets as he smirks up at you.
His hand gripping the small of your back while he tugs at the waistband of your panties with his teeth.
His head between your legs, lips pressed to the inside of your thigh.
You jolt when Eddie's arms curl around your middle, a gesture much more involved than what your relationship (or at least your relationship before the night previous) entails. He plucks one of the photos out of your hand, letting out a little cackle.
"Damn, looks like we did fuck last night," he muses.
His expression suddenly drops, going from amused to grim in less than a second. You catch the change in the mirror and whip around to face him.
"What?"
He swallows heavily, like his throat is full of sand.
"I, uh... We didn't... I... I don't have condoms."
You blink.
"... What?"
You smack at his chest, focusing on the slap of his skin against your palms so you don't faint.
"You're in a band!" you shout. "Why don't you have fucking condoms, Eddie?!"
"You've met my band!" he yells back at you. "We're fucking dorks! You really think we're all getting pussy 24/7? Women terrify me! And I don't want a fucking STD!"
"THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE CONDOMS!"
You slump back against the dresser, any bit of humor you could possibly find in having been drunkenly railed by your best friend completely vaporized. You're not on birth control, and as far as you know, your reproductive bits work exactly as they're supposed to - possibly even better than they're supposed to, since you've been ovulating for the past week and, subsequently, hornier than usual. Unless Eddie got a vasectomy he hasn't mentioned, there's no way you're not harboring a little stowaway.
"Hey."
The warmth of Eddie's palms settling against your cheeks snaps you out of your downward spiral. He gently tilts your head up so you meet his eye, his panicked demeanor replaced by the soft, calm side of him you've only seen a handful of times. It's enough to send the tears stinging your waterline spilling over onto your cheeks.
"No way in hell I'm letting you have a kid, least of all my fucking kid. There's a pharmacy on the corner. We'll walk down together, get you some Plan B - that I'll pay for - and have breakfast at the diner next block over. Yeah?"
You nod, sniffling and wiping at your now blotchy, tear-stained face.
"Yeah," you agree. "Yeah... yeah, okay. Yeah."
The journey to the pharmacy is silent, but not uncomfortable. Eddie walks with his arm linked in yours, keeping you pressed to his side as if trying to shield you from prying eyes; he doesn't leave you alone, either, a hand always at the small of your back or locked around your shoulders.
As you make your way out of the contraceptive aisle, he tosses a few pregnancy tests and boxes of condoms into your basket, "just as a precaution". The woman who rings you up takes one look at the scandalous haul and tsks, fixing you with a shaming, disdainful glare.
"Something wrong?" Eddie quips. He wraps an arm around you, tucking you behind him ever so slightly so you're out of the woman's eyeline.
"No," she responds through tight lips. "Sixty-two eighty, please."
At the diner, Eddie asks for a booth in the corner, away from the counter and the front door. You unwrap the medication and take it as instructed, swallowing it down with a cup of weak, slightly burnt coffee. The heavy, greasy plate of hash browns and eggs you're served stills your spinning headache, grounding you along with the feel of Eddie's hand on your thigh.
"How you feeling?" he asks once you return to his apartment.
You nod, too shy to meet his gaze.
"Better," you tell him. "... Thank you."
Eddie lets out a heavy sigh, taking the few steps forward he needs to reach you and wrapping you in a tight, tender hug. You don't hesitate to return it, your hands gripping at the thin fabric covering his back.
"I got you," he murmurs into your hair. "It's gonna be okay."
You can't bring yourself to leave him, so you spend the rest of the day on his couch, watching reruns of The Mary Tyler Moore Show and listening to him strum nervously at his guitar. Around dinner time, he offers to pick you up a pizza to share, which you say you'll pay for to thank him. He doesn't let you.
While he's gone, you take a quick shower, washing away the remnants of last night's debauchery. You step out of the bathroom to find him reclined on the sofa, legs kicked up on the coffee table, cigarette dangling between his lips as he sorts through the Polaroids that were left on his dresser. A box of fresh pizza lays open on the kitchen counter; three slices are missing, and there's a paper plate and napkin waiting for you (you're not sure Eddie even owns any actual dishes).
"You should quit smoking if you're gonna be a dad," you tease him in a deadpan, joining him on the couch with dinner in hand.
He chuckles, tossing a photo of your tongue licking at the head of his cock onto the table. You hate that the sight is so... appealing to you. That you're a little disappointed you don't remember doing it. That you kind of want to do it again.
"Maybe if I'm lucky it'll stop my balls from working," he mumbles.
His hands stop shuffling as he looks at the photo currently in them. He removes the cig from his mouth, exhaling long and slow; contemplative. You lean over to see what's caught his attention.
To your surprise, it's a picture of your face. You're pressed into the pillow on the right side of his bed, eyes lidded, lips curled into a blissful smile, hair knotted with traces of his fingers having run through them and yanked at your scalp. You're clearly fucked out. But you're also... gazing at him. Seeing him. Giving him the kind of heart eyes you only ever do when you're sure he's not looking.
"I remember why I took this one," Eddie says. "I thought... I thought you looked really pretty. My heart felt like it was gonna... fuckin' explode or something. I was wicked happy I finally had you in my bed and that you were gonna fall asleep next to me and... I wanted to keep that moment."
"... Finally?"
His eyes snap up, clearly shocked that he said that exact word out loud. For a moment he says nothing. For a moment you're unsure what the hell there is to say.
But then you're throwing yourself onto him, latching your arms around his neck and trapping his waist between your thighs, holding him like he's the last thing you're ever going to touch. He hugs you back, burying his face in your shoulder, his hands reaching up under your shirt to stroke loving patterns along your back.
"I love you, Eddie Munson," you whisper into his neck.
"I love you," he breathes. "God... I fucking love you. So fucking much."
BONUS:
you and eddie lean over the sink in his apartment, staring at the overturned pregnancy test inside it.
"ready?" you ask.
he nods.
you flip it over.
one pink line.
eddie shrieks - literally shrieks - with relief and lifts you into his arms, spinning you until you're dizzy.
"oh thank god," he gasps, repeatedly kissing your cheek. "ohhhhhh thank god thank god thank god. i'm gonna celebrate by fucking you dumb."
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🌹💀get your eddie fix💀🌹
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rynwritesstuff · 2 years
Note
reader taking care of a sick!eddie with "how are you still standing?", "you should be in bed.", and placing a soft kiss on their forhead from the hurt/comfort and yearn prompts?
Yes, yes, yes. I loooove hurt/comfort stuff, it's my absolute favorite trope.
Eddie Munson x Reader
Warnings: None really, just some fluffiness, oh and Eddie gives reader a mixtape
Reader takes care of Eddie when he doesn't show up to school - Oneshot
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"Eddie?" you call, walking into his trailer with a bag full of stuff for him.
There comes a coughing fit from his bedroom, and you head down the hall after closing and re-locking the front door.
You sigh when you see him. He's up and rummaging around in his cassette tape box. You put your hands on your hips.
"You should be in bed, Munson."
He looks up at you as if you've just said the most offensive thing he's ever heard, and you smile.
"C'mon, let's go," you say, clapping your hands. Eddie smiles, getting to his feet, his right hand behind his back.
"I--" he begins to cough, and it lasts a good five seconds, "I-I made you something."
He hands you a mixtape, then, and you smile softly as you take it.
"Eddie--"
"Shush, shush, you can thank me later," he teases. You grab his shirt and yank him forward. He stumbles, and when his body presses against yours, you become fully aware of how warm he is.
Your eyebrows furrow. You press your hand against his forehead.
"Jesus, how are you still standing?" you ask. "Feels like you're dying."
"Can I get a kiss before I go, then?" he asks, putting his hands on your hips.
You roll your eyes playfully as your cheeks warm up. Such a flirt.
"You're lucky you're cute," you say as you lean up to press a gentle kiss to his forehead.
"I meant a real kiss."
"Not right now. Sorry, baby. I don't wanna catch whatever you've got."
Eddie pouts and pulls you closer. He grumbles to himself, then presses his face against your shoulder.
"I feel so shitty, sweetheart," he mutters. You rub his back.
"I know you do. I'm sorry, loverboy. I brought you some stuff, though. It might help bring the fever down."
Eddie nods but doesn't move. You chuckle softly.
"Can you go lay down, please? And take your jeans off so you can get comfortable?"
Eddie's too tired to make a "you want me to take my pants off?" joke, so he does as you tell him and lies down with a soft groan.
"I've got medicine, water, ginger ale, crackers, soup . . ." you say, rummaging through the bag. "Oh, and popsicles."
"Popsicles sound gr--" Eddie begins to cough, and you begin to tear open the medicine package.
"I got the severe sinus and headache crap," you say, pulling the pills out. "I'm glad I did 'cause you're sounding kinda stuffy."
You open the water for him and hand it to him as he stops coughing. He takes it.
"Mm. Everything is wrong with me," he says before swallowing the pills.
"Sore throat, headache, coughing, runny nose . . ."
You sit down on the bed beside him and he reaches for your hand.
"Did you go to the doctor?" you ask. Eddie shakes his head. You glare at him. "Then what the hell have you been doing all day?"
"Sleeping and making you that mixtape."
"Oh my god, Munson, you're killin' me."
Eddie gives you a charming, boyish smile, and you sigh.
"I'm taking you tomorrow after school if you don't feel any better, okay?"
Eddie nods.
"Yes, ma'am."
You cuddle up against him and press a kiss to his t-shirt clad chest.
"I love you. Do you want soup now or later?"
"Later. Wanna nap with you."
"Mm. As you wish, handsome."
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soupandspoonies · 2 months
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Hi there, this is my first post on my blog and my first time really blogging on Tumblr so I need a little bit of practice, but I wanted to introduce myself!
I'll be going by Soup or K on my blog, my pronouns are they/them, and I am a chronically ill individual. I have been struggling with my illnesses since I was 10 (going on 9 years now), and I am still working to get a diagnosis for everything I have going on.
As of now, I am diagnosed with daily chronic headaches, POTS, and inappropriate sinus tachycardia. I am hoping to receive a diagnosis for gastro issues as well as joint problems. My conditions cause a lot of fatigue and pain for me and as a university student I have to work extra hard to maintain grades etc.
I think the purpose of me starting this blog is mostly for myself. I have spent a lot of time in therapy, trying things like CBT to help me manage both the pain and the feelings that come along with being chronically ill and disabled. I struggle to talk to people about things because I always run the risk of people losing respect for me or looking down on me, thinking I'm too weak to keep up. I've wanted to find like people so I can talk about my struggles and maybe through this I can help others with their struggles as well!
I am working on a journal where I intend to detail my journey with doctors and hospitals, what I have lost through this and what I have gained. It may take me a bit to write it all but it will be in entries by year (9 years is a lot of time to cover), so I plan to write smaller posts and try to find similar blogs so maybe I can find a bit of a community. If anyone wanted to ask questions or start a conversation, I am very open! Thanks for reading :)
Soup
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boringkate · 3 months
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penis pill talk since it just came up *snickers* do you get sinus headaches after taking them. Cialis and Viagra do for usually the next day if you do have any recommendations or is it something to adjust too.
Viagra definitely always gives me a headache (and like fucks with my vision and barely works, but YMMV). Cialis can too, but I feel like either I've adjusted to it or the dose I'm taking is reasonable enough (taking a full tablet instead of half of one can make me more likely to get hit with one) because it hasn't been an issue for me lately.
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thediktatortot · 8 months
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So I'm sick as a dog and I'm on antibiotics for the next week or so, so I'm gonna be online for a few days. Love you guys! I'm gonna clear out my drafts i've been working on and put them in the Queue (been doing it a little already).
It sucks to be sick TT_TT I rarely get sick-sick so this is like, a total bummer. I'm also somewhat allergic to most antibiotics so the Amoxacillin is causing me to have really bad night sweats and then I get really cold randomly. I've been hydrating which helps, but it doesn't go away completely.
But, I'd rather have the night sweats then deal with a sinus infection more than I have too. I'm sore and achey though so that's not fun, and my eyes hurt from the pressure so I can't do too much of anything without getting a headache.
Love you guys! hope you all have been having fun, causing mayhem and being little gremlins without me!
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momo-de-avis · 5 months
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I'm usually very lenient with doctors cause I have a lot of respect for them but I am also very suspicious bc growing up the person that practically raised me was a doctor and after he died i did not trust any doctor whatsoever until adolescence, but like. I'm back to being suspicious of these people cause I went to the doctor about my allergies. Got tested. Not allergic to anything. A lifetime being told I have Rhinitis or whatever it's called and apparently nope. Okay. It's my stomach, it turns out. And we only find this out because the doctor says "well, this is strange because you dont have reflux" to which I responded "I actually do have reflux occasionally" to which she replied "oh then that must be it!" To which my only reaction was "but you never asked anything about reflux I never mentioned it cause I didn't think it was relevant" and like she was a very nice lady but I studied art history, I can analyse a painting and identify the time period of a church, I'm not qualified to figure out that my stomach issues have any relation with my NOSE when I didn't even understand I had stomach issues to begin with so just ask all the questions you should ask, don't expect me to guess. I will answer them. I'm actually too honest when it comes to doctors. I am incredibly open with them about the fact that I smoke and except an anesthesiologist once, literally everyone answered "but that's not relevant" which okay. I thought it was. It's now three months later, I've been following the directions of the medication admittedly except one which is not a medication is a sinus cleaning that gives me a headache and I find it impossible to do it at 7.30 am when I wake up so I do it once a day instead of twice but that shouldn't be a huge issue. Nothing has changed and now I have yet again all the symptoms of rhinitis again. And the antihistamines she prescribed when she thought it was allergies still work when i take them in sos situations. So now I'm suspicious. I'm getting fed up with this. Been going to the doctor in the private sector and paying for this shit bc I have insurance, which apparently sucks ass cause they still want to charge me 10 THOUSAND euros to remove a cyst and treat my endometriosis which lol (whole other can of worms I'm dealing with tomorrow) but really we're all better off in the goddamn public healthcare system. I'm finally feeling like I'm a client and not a patient. Anyway I can't sleep and I have to wake up at 6.30 tomorrow.
Edit: it was TEN THOUSAND euros, not ten. If it was 10 I'd have my insides all rearranged for what I care
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robinruns · 9 months
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Deciding on meals for the week ahead is so hard, but I have decided I'm going to have spaghetti for dinner on Wednesday because that would have been my Dad's 70th birthday. Might get some ice cream too. I should make a big post asking for donations to my fundraiser, but that will require some emotional vulnerability and I've gotta be in the right mindset for that. Which is not right now.
I was considering running my long run this morning but it's still muggy as fuck and I'm currently waiting for my sinus headache meds to kick in fully. I'll probably just go to the gym to cross train. If I do 3 miles plus some kind of cross training, and then do my long run tomorrow, I'll be 100% back on track with my training plan 🙌🏻 I really don't wanna be playing catch up again so it's been motivating.
I've got We Built This City by Starship stuck in my head and I have no idea why.
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icepixie · 2 months
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To sum up, I now have:
Weird-ass maybe migraine headache thing that's been going on for two months;
MRSA sinus infection that's been going on for god knows how long, at least two years, with slightly more than a year of attempts to treat it;
A tooth that today started to hurt/swell in that "cracked/infected and will need to be pulled" way I know too damn well. (And of course every dentist in town closes Fridays, though at least mine sent in a prescription.)*
About to be on THREE different antibiotics for all this once the dental one gets filled.
Can I please just rip my head off my body and throw it in the sea? A boiling tar pit? MOUNT DOOM??
*Could this be the cause of the headache thing? Who the hell knows anymore. I've never known a bad lower jaw tooth to make my forehead hurt, but my body lives to subvert expectations.
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straightupsickfics · 2 years
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I have an OFMD promt for you if you're interested! I love the way you write them! Lucius @Ed abt Stede, "That man spoils you rotten."
oh this is sooo cute for them pls <3 stede really will spoil him!
****
Ed wakes up alone in bed, which is unusual for a two reasons. First, he doesn't quite remember getting in bed, and two, he never wakes up alone. Stede is always beside him, reading or sipping his tea or kissing Ed's cheek or —
Well, anyway, Stede is decidedly not beside him. In fact, the right side of the bed is entirely made up, which means Stede hadn't been there at all just yet.
"Oh, look who decided to join us," a voice says from the other side of the room. "You look amazing like that, by the way."
Waking up to Lucius instead of Stede is not Ed's idea of a good morning, if he's being honest, but given the way the light is coming through the window beside him, it looks more like late afternoon than morning, anyway.
"Mm? Lucius...? Where's Stede?" Ed sits up too quickly, his vision going bleary and unfocused and the congestion in his head shifting enough that it brings the last few days back in vivid memory. He has some kind of bug...cold... sinus shit, which was all too soon joined by some of the worst headaches he'd ever had. And Ed had had his fair share, given all the drinking and hangovers over the years.
"He's off making sure Roach gets your soup just right," Lucius informs him, looking up from his notebook and smiling a little. "He left me here to make sure you're alright and to track any new developments. So far I've written down 'absolutely ungodly snoring' but not much else."'
"Fuck off," Ed groans. He feels a little better than he had earlier, but he's definitely still sick. His head feels heavy with congestion, he can hardly breathe through his nose, and he's vaguely aware that he's going to sneeze in a minute or two.
"Just reporting the facts, Captain," Lucius says primly. "Stede should be back soon, though, thank god. Not that I haven't loved this."
Ed sneezes once...twice...three times in response, aiming them down at the many blankets Stede had piled around him, too exhausted and out of sorts to do much else.
“eh-hH–httSCHssh’ooh! Chiiishhhew! ehh… etCHishh!"
He sniffles a few times, eyes and nose streaming after his little rush of sneezes.
"Attractive," Lucius teases.
"Snf! SNF! I don't remember note-taking needing a minute by minute commentary, mate. Tell Stede I don't snf! dneed soup I just ndeed..." Ed trails off, because all he really needs is Stede and the realization makes his breath catch in his throat.
"You can tell him that, but then you'll make his face to that horrible pinched up sad thing, and trust me no one wants to be the one to do that. Plus, that man spoils you rotten, why ruin it for him? Or yourself, for that matter."
This, too, gives Ed pause. Stede truly does take the best care of him, in general, but especially these last few days. Aside from this latest soup endeavor, Ed reckons Stede's hardly left his side the entire time he's been sick. The thought makes him warm all over, but it also makes him miss Stede something fierce.
"Yeah, s'pose you're right about that," Ed says quietly. His head throbs and he knows it's a matter of minutes before he's sneezing again, but at least he knows Stede will be back soon, and he can count on him not to narrate every fucking moment of this fucking cold.
"That's been known to happen, yes," Lucius smirks.
He looks back at his notebook and Ed lets himself burrow back down into the blankets Stede had covered him with. The only thing that would be better right now is if Stede himself were here beside him instead of — no doubt — torturing Roach to ensure the soup was done up the right way.
Ed's smiling to himself at that thought when the door creaks open and then shuts again.
"Oh, thank god," Lucius says, already springing to his feet and talking rapidly, faster than Ed's cold-addled brain can comprehend.
"You're a star, Lucius," Stede says, and when Ed looks up, Lucius is high-tailing it out of their quarters, leaving just him and Stede and a steaming tray full of mugs and bowls and spoons. If Ed had any sense of smell left, he'd bet it all smelled amazing.
"And how's the patient?" Stede asks warmly, setting the tray down and pressing the back of his hand to Ed's forehead. "You gave me a little bit of a scare there, Edward. I was afraid to leave you alone, you seemed to be in so much pain."
He's looking at Ed with so much fondness and genuine care that it makes a lump rise in Ed's throat.
Stede presses his fingertips to Ed's scalp, massaging lightly, like it's nothing at all. Ed lets out an involuntary groan at the touch, feeling some of the tension leave his body. His headache was already on its way out, but a few more moments of this and he'd be asleep all over again, and that wouldn't do either, not when Stede had gone to so much effort for the soup.
"S'nice," Ed says, fighting to keep his eyes open. "Y'really didn't have to do all this."
"Oh! Nonsense. No one likes to be sick. Let me fuss a bit," Stede says, as if he isn't already doing just that.
Lucius' words ring in Ed's ears. That man spoils you rotten.
He really isn't wrong.
"Yeah, alright, mate," Ed says quietly. He looks up at Stede and smiles, thankful beyond belief that the same man who would let one of his crew lose teeth to scurvy would drop everything to make Ed Teach soup. "But you'll have to have some too. Misery loves company and all that, eh?"
Stede sits beside him on the bed, smiling when Ed lets his head rest on his shoulder for just a moment.
"Ah, well, you know I always love your company, Ed."
Ed's stomach flips. Definitely, definitely spoiled by Stede Bonnet.
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annunnaki7 · 1 year
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ARE DISSABLED PEOPLE LAZY? COULD REALLY DO BETTER IF THEY TRIED HARDER? This is an example of an average bad week, like 6/10 bad on mental health and 5/10 on the physical level. Oh yea it gets so much worst! Read this and tell me how I could have improved.  
MAY 2023 
Sat 29.04.23 
-Asthma bad all night. I coughed myself awake so often I didn't get any deep sleep. 
-Fibromyalgia not happy about this, and is flaring up on its way to STOPPING FLARING up instead! 🤬 Joy! So now going to pee has extra general pain added to it. 
- Allergies & Sinus bad. My nose runs non stop. Used 1/2 roll of toilet paper blowing my nose just today. And no, I don't like waisting things. Throwing meds at it. 
-Managed to work with my carer, sorting paperwork. I can't help with much else anymore. I don't have the hand strength to cut a carrot. That's annoying as taking away from my autonomy. 
Sun 30.04.23
- Allergies & Sinus still bad with non stop daily headaches, with migraine sometimes.
-Fibromyralgia flare. Pain feels like I feel down badement cement stairs or  when I had major surgery on day 3 with 5 days hospital stay. I'm in too much pain to eat. Exhaustion worst than Covid & Pneumonia! 
-Asthma bad. I have to rest for 1 minute every 10-15 meters I walk. Going to the loo takes 5 breaks.
- Urinary incontinence dissability related not happy about so many breaks to get TO the loo. I need buy more trousers! (I used 3 in one day twice this week)
- I'm in so much exhaustion & pain I can't even face watching TV. Strong painkillers increased. I'm not happy. I was hoping to decrease them this week! 
Mon 01.05.23 
-Migraine. 
-Sinus inflamed for past 4 weeks. Related to but not only cause of migraine. I'm a migraine sufferer.
-Fibromyalgia medium flare. Hands hurt as well as eveywere else. A plate is heavy to lift. I can't stab potatoes to zap them in microwave by myself. 
-Hayfever slightly improving.
-If I didn't have a carer coming to help me with a wash, I don't know how I would cope.She helped more today. She's so nice. People don't appreciate them enough.
-Concerned how I'll make hospital appointment of Thursday. And got builders in tomorrow. 
Tuesday 02.05.23
-Migraine at night. 
-All body pain bad. Been worst before though. 
-Builders poped in to say they'll be back tomorrow. And no neither owner nor estate agents told them about all the work needing doing. 
- This is in fact my comparativly, the "best day" to date. I can't sit in a chair re pain. And I have a high pain threshold. Had major surgery and got up by myself the next day when everyone else did on the 3rd day with help. Nurses said it was shocking to see me trot - carefully -  about.
- Hospital appointment of tomorrow changed for latter on. It's not a vital one. 
-District Nurse popped in to assess if I need to worry re swealing in legs. I'll have to go to the specialist clinic after all. 
-Blood Pressure still high & Pulse going nuts. Say hi to all types of allergies as a possible cause! I take the strongest anti histamin, plus 6 over the counter allergy tablets daily. Yep, the specialist doctors advised that. It stop skin for literally falling off and other horror stories! 
Wed 03.05.23 
-Vomited blood all night (5hrs of hurling on off) from ulcer, blood clots included! Yuck! 3rd time in 1 month.
-Day Migraine following as haven't been able to drink much 
-Im past normal exhausted as part of Fibromyalgia. It feels like I did a 14hr shift and haven't slep the next 2 nights. (Yes, I've done that in the past. Joy of nursing & midwifery whilst having dissabilities)
- Spoke to GP, meds increased. I don't want another endoscopy. Don't see what else it will tell us. It's costly to the NHS, I'm going to be in so much pain for at least 2 weeks after due to dissability, not the test. Urinary incontinence will be a pain. I'm not even for resuscitation (DNR) anyways. 
-Not hungry. Disordered eating means it will kick in if I can't eat at all today. Gods even cake don't sound appealing!
- Builders back. Same thing, back tomorrow instead. But now they got the list of job. 
-District Nurse decided I need compression stockings! My severe eczema might not like the extra heat in summer! & Scratchy material.
-Migraine afternoon - nightime.
-Did eat eventually. Yea me! 
Thursday 04.05.23
-Food helped with migraine & dissorted eating. 
- Pain and extreme exhaustion same. I can't hold a plate of food.
- Severe anxiety started in afternoon after flat owner demanding I get the garden clean that night. Message was passed to me by builder at around 4.40pm. to be done by tomorrow morning. Oh yea, I'm dissabled with poor balance, walks some 15-20 meter with 2 stick, uses wheelchair otherwise. And it would get dark even if I miraculously find someone for, ... work that's not urgent! And oh yes, there's no place to eat at the kitchen table due to building work. Like that's not a priority after builders leave rather than garden. Also. Thunder and rain so bad, I though thunder had struck nearby. 
-Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (C-PTSD) few times last night (originates from past child abuse) but attacks due to the way the flat owner and estates agent treats me.
Friday 05.05.23
-Irritable Bowel Syndrome (IBS) exacerbated since around 2am started with the stress.
- Headaches back
- Severe anxiety rising progressively
- C-PTSD flash back early morning. Good thing I know how to manage it.
- I ate with carer, yea! Well she made me eat. 
Saturday 06.05.23
-Anxiety still high
-C-PTSD same high during day, not typical of abuse. Definitely flat owner & Estates Agent related.
Sunday 07.05.23
- Actively managing the mental health side of things. 
- Bad Heaches day time 
- Friend brought me yummy KFC. Could only eat a tiny bit. Oh great, that's Dissordered Eating not happy with all the stress!
- Migrainy headach lasted 2-3 hrs. Resolved with management.
-Asthma attack in evening for over 2hrs. Was so rough couldn't do lung capacity measurement until finally calmed down. 
- I won't be able to finish my KFC now. I'm pissed off. I'm so tired of juggling several deseases. It wouldn't be so bad of people acted like human being. 
So. Do you still think I'm leisurely lying around having a relaxing time as a dissabled person?
Did you realise that it takes managing one thing after another everyday? 
So everyone can do better of they "really wanted"? I really wanted to not loose my mortgage and dog. It's my dog I missed the most, not even one of my things. From a Midwife I became homeless. From working 16hrs or work followed by Union Rep work (IE talking to staff, not official meetings before you quote the law) I'm now not able to eat independently at times, or wash alone now. I'm still acting?  Have a good, lazy life? You want to swap? 
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sheliesshattered · 7 months
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Dragon Con 2023 Retrospective
We've been home from Dragon Con for two weeks as of today -- but we've spent most of that time recovering from a particularly nasty Con Crud™. I tested negative for covid, but Jack tested positive and we had the same symptoms, so eh I figure I finally actually caught it, after several rounds of head colds that tested negative.
I always get some level of Con Crud and/or spoonie post-event exhaustion, so I was prepared to feel pretty awful for a week or two at least. The fever and sinus headache was a bit novel this year, but as I'm getting over this infection I'm actually feeling okay-ish. Hopefully my energy will continue to return over the next few weeks (I've got a big day of walking planned for the end of October!) but otherwise I might actually be feeling better now than I have two weeks post Dragon Con (or post Wasteland Weekend) in previous years.
And unlike previous years, I got through the whole con and the trip home without feeling sick at all. A little dehydrated at times (the wait for airport security at ATL was the worst honestly), and my body taking the trouble to remind me how much stretching in the evening helps me, but nothing worse than that.
I've had Dragon Cons in past years when I was too wiped out to even leave the hotel room by Sunday evening, but this year I spent Sunday evening standing around and socializing at the Doctor Who Ball, and didn't hate myself for it later. A combination of being in better physical condition now in general, and pacing myself (and Jack needing to pace too), and staying on top of vitamins and electrolytes and water all really seemed to help.
We got home on the Monday of Labor Day weekend, and then Tuesday morning I was feeling well enough to go grocery shopping on my own and make corn chowder from scratch when I got back. I was tired, but not too bad, honestly. Buuut by that evening I had a sore throat, then by Wednesday morning both Jack and I woke up with a fever. The rest of the week continued more or less like that, with a lot of lying around on the couch and watching movies and tv shows, lol.
Despite feeling like death, we did spend some time talking about what went well at Dragon Con 2023, what we'd want to do again and what we'd want to do differently. I really enjoyed the House of the Dragon photo meetup on Saturday, and wearing my Rhaenyra cosplay in general. I even ended up wishing that I'd carved out time to go to the Game of Thrones/ASOIAF photo meetup in the same costume, just to have more time in that dress and hanging out with that fandom.
There's something that I really enjoy about working hard for months on end to make something screen-accurate from a fandom that is active but also fairly focused. I recognized every costume worn at the HotD meetup, knew which character wore it in which episode, etc. Everyone I talked with at that meetup knew exactly which dress I was wearing, which character I was, and noticed the details I spent so much time working on -- just as I did theirs. There's a wonderful camaraderie and bonding in appreciating each other's hard work to achieve screen accurate reproductions of well-known and visually compelling costumes.
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Between that meetup and late night drinking shenanigans while wearing my Rhaenyra cosplay, I really felt like I achieved my peak Dragon Con experience this year while wearing that costume.
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By contrast, while I did have fun wearing my Harley Quinn Taylor Swift mashup cosplay, I didn't have nearly as much fun as I did as Rhaenyra. I got some nice compliments from complete strangers who saw the shirt and got the mashup concept, and I had one funny in-character interaction with a Joker cosplayer, but by the evening I was ready to switch back to being Rhaenyra.
The Harley mashup was clever, but not people-stopping-to-take-pictures clever, and honestly there are just a lot of Harleys running around the con. And her canon is a lot more scattered than HotD/GoT canon, and costumes are much more commercially available, so there wasn't nearly the same level of bonding over hand-making the costumes.
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The Swifties meetup was fun, and exchanging the beaded friendship bracelets I made was a good experience -- but honestly I had more fun handing out the few Rhaenyra ones I made than I did exchanging the Swiftie ones. I don't regret making the Harley Quinn Taylor Swift mashup, but it did really help clarify my priorities for future Dragon Cons.
So Harley Quinn was fun, but won't be repeated, I don't think. But because I'd worn Rhaenyra's red dress so late into the evening on Friday, I hadn't had a chance to wear my punk!Rhaenyra original concept yet, so on Saturday night when I wanted to switch back to Rhaenyra for awhile, I got to break that one out for late night parties and shenanigans (and also Dairy Queen).
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Sunday was lower-key by comparison. Quite a few Doctor Who cosplayers looked right at my Oswin and didn't seem to recognize it, which seems to be par for the course for mainstream Whovians when it comes to Clara's era. That said, just when I was starting to get snarky about that (quietly, only to Jack), a Sixth Doctor cosplayer complimented my Oswin, which made the whole thing feel worth it.
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And then when I switched to my MOTOE Clara cosplay for the evening hours, there were a few more people who clearly recognized the costume -- including one woman who gasped and yelled 'Clara!!' at me as we were passing each other in heavy Marriott crowds. I didn't get a chance to do more than gasp in surprise at her excitement, but the cycling of the Marriott crowd being what it is, we eventually passed each other again, and I ran off through the crowd to catch her that time. We chatted for a bit and I gave her the beaded bracelet reading 'Don't Stop Me Now' that I made for exactly that situation, lol. We ended up hanging out at the Doctor Who Ball, but her excitement over the MOTOE cosplay really made my night.
The Doctor Who Ball had a costume contest (that wasn't real well organized, but sounds like it will be a more official thing in future years, because it was such a popular event) that I entered on a lark. The announcement of the winners in particular wasn't well done, I missed it completely because I was talking with people, but I went and asked afterwards and found out that I'd done well and (according to the woman running the contest, who immediately asked to take a picture with me) apparently I only lost the Companion category to a Wilf cosplayer who was spot-on, and tugging on everyone's heartstrings. I don't know how close the vote really was, but her enthusiasm for my cosplay felt like such a gift.
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I haven't felt like going to GallifreyOne in recent years, since I've felt so much on the outside of the Doctor Who fandom (between the hate focused on Clara's era and my own dislike of the most recent era), but the Doctor Who Ball was a great time to talk with like-minded Whovians, and to remember why I love this corner of the fandom in general.
I think MOTOE Clara will probably make an appearance at future Dragon Cons, and Oswin met the original purpose of being a comfortable easy-to-wear cosplay for during the day, so in all likelihood that one will come back too (after just a little bit of repair work on the belt).
The red silk Rhaenyra gown held up well, much better than I feared it would. I maaay need to handwash it, but I washed the fabric with shampoo before I sewed it, so theoretically it can be handwashed again, if it really needs it. I need to replace the shoes, but that's already in progress. At this point I'm planning to bring Rhaenyra's Red Dress back to Dragon Con 2024 (and maybe even to something else in between, like Wonder Con?). Quite possibly punk!Rhaenyra too.
I think season 2 of HotD will air before next Dragon Con, or at least start before the end of August. There's every possibility that there will be new costumes from s2 that I'll want to make -- but either way, I know now that I want to lean into cosplay from fandoms like HotD/GoT, and focus less on fandoms like Harley Quinn.
I've already started thinking about and planning cosplays for next year, but this is already way too long, so I'll post an update about that tomorrow...
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