#anyway here’s some more pain and suffering

[magics-neptunes-things]

Hugs vs Pain

Hi everyone!

I went to the dentist today and i'm hurt as hell, so here is a story about it with Ona 🤣

TW : Dentist.

“Ona, Princesa, I don’t want to go. Please don’t make me go, I’ll do anything I swear!”

“Baby stop” Ona laughs, rolling her eyes.

She gets out of the car and if you really considered the idea of running away from her and the building you’re facing, your girlfriend doesn’t let you the time to do it. She opens the door of her car and wait patiently that you get out too. Which you did while grumbling.

“Ona, please” you beg.

“No Babe. You literally had fever last week because of that, so you will go in this dental office to get those wisdom teeth removed.”

Under her beautiful smile and her brown doe eyes, Ona is really stubborn. She took an appointment for you when you always find an excuse not to do it and came with you today to be sure that you will be here. Both of you know that if she wasn’t with you, you wouldn’t be here.

Ona takes your hand and drag you with her. The receptionist hides a smile of amusement when she sees both of you. You are clinging to Ona’s hand like if life depends of it.

You almost jump when the dentist come to take you to her office and it’s at that time that Ona realizes that you’re not playing with her or exaggerate things. She knows that you are scared of dentist, you never hide this point to her. The look of horror that you throw her makes her feel bad, before remembering how much you were suffering last week when you admit that your teeth were hurting. Your pain lasts some days before you eventually talked about it to your girlfriend.

When she strokes your forehead, she realize that you had fever too.

“Can I come with you?” Ona asks your dentist softly.

After looking at you, the dentist nods and Ona jumps on her feet to follow you. On the chair, you close your eyes, not wanting to see anything that he will do to you. You are concentrated on Ona’s hand in yours, your girlfriend stroking lovingly your fingers.

The appointment last almost one hour and you almost faint a thousand times. You are feeling strange when you get up from the chair, your legs shaking. You let Ona drags you once again, following her to the desk of the receptionist and then to her car.

“Are you alright?” Ona asks before starting her car.

You grumble for any answer, your mouth still asleep and hurting too. You hate that feeling. Ona stops at the pharmacy near her building to buy some painkiller and antibiotic before you can finally find the comfort of her bed. You realize quickly that the lying position is awful for your pain though.

Ona quickly arranges the bed with her multitude of cushions, so that you can be comfortable sitting, before handing you a glass of water and a painkiller.

“Take this mi Amor” she says.

You sigh but take it anyway. The cold water makes you shiver, and not in a great way, but you hope that it will help you to feel better soon. After you swallow it, Ona takes you against her to cuddle and you let yourself go against her. You feel dizzy and close your eyes. You don’t need more than five minutes before falling asleep.

When you wake up after, you frown realizing that your girlfriend isn’t with you anymore. The place where she was is still hot, meaning that she’s not gone for too long, but she’s still not here. You sit on the bed and start to get up from the bed to look for her when Ona comes back in the room.

“Where are you going?” she asks.

“You weren’t here when I woke up” you pout.

Pushing you softly back against the cushion, Ona puts a trail next to you on the bed. You frown while looking at it, seeing a yogurt and a bowl soup. Nothing you really like, but it seems like Ona made the soup herself and you feel your heart fluttered at the idea.

“The dentist said nothing too hot or too cold, so I made a soup but it isn’t really hot. And the yogurt is out of the fridge for several minutes now.”

“Thank you, Oni.” you say with a grateful smile.

“You’re welcome” Ona smiles, sitting next to you again.

You struggle to eat properly to be honest, your mouth is always strange, and you are scared of hurting yourself a little more. Ona proposed to feed you, but you declined, thinking that this situation is already embarrassing enough for you.

When you are finish, Ona takes the trail to put it on her nightstand and takes you again in her arms. She kisses your hair before looking at you.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Very softly” you answer, just unable to refuse her a kiss.

Ona nods and is very careful not to touch your face when she puts her lips against yours.

Your still remember the first time Ona kissed you. It was after taking you home after a game. You already went to two dates before, and she never kissed you at that point. That day, when she walked you to your door, she doesn’t go for the usual kiss on your cheek, but she kissed you right on the lips.

You were so shocked that you didn’t react at first, making Ona believing that she totally misread the situation. She wasn’t, and you had to kiss her yourself to make her stop her repeated apologies in a Catalan way too fast for you.

“I’m sorry that you are in so much pain” Ona mumble against your skin when she kisses your forehead. “If I could, I would take it so you wouldn’t be hurt.”

“I’ll be ok with more cuddle” you mumble, taking one more painkiller with some water.

Like every other time it makes you feel sleepy again and you literally wrap yourself around Ona. You smile when you hear her giggles, hiding your face in the hollow of her neck.

“I love you so much.” you whisper, half asleep.

“I love you even more.”

You hum, not able to answer something else as the sleep takes you away. Ona holds you tenderly against her, gently stroking your back under your t-shirt with her fingertips. She holds you the time you are asleep and is still holding you protectively against her when you wake up.

“Here she is” Ona smiles when you stir, putting her phone on the mattress.

“Hola” you mumble, stroking her neck with your nose.

She shivers slightly and you smile when you realize it.

“Did you sleep well?”

“I always sleep well when I’m in your arms.”

“Painkiller make you all soft?” Ona laughs.

“Don’t make fun of me. I’m hurt” you pout.

Ona laughs again and you can’t do anything but smile. While doing it, you realize that the pain is less strong than before and that’s something to emphasize. Maybe tonight you will be able to eat something other than soup.

You stay like this for several minutes, enjoying Ona’s tender caresses on your body. You kiss her jaw several times, tracing her freckles with your lips.

“Thank you for taking so good care of me” you whisper.

“Always, mi Amor.”

#woso imagine #woso x reader #ona batlle #ona batlle imagine #ona batlle x reader

[abirddogmoment]

A lot about Mav's decline and a little about how it makes me look at Rory.

I didn't talk about it very much here, but Mav was really subtle in his signs of pain when he was declining from his spine injury. Some of the things that tipped me off were changes to his gait, lower tailset, slower movement, reluctance/slowness getting on or off furniture, and needing extra cuddling. These things could easily be brushed off as him being tired or him being disinterested, and it really made me doubt what I was seeing.

I was sure Mav had something really wrong with him, but it was so hard to convince the vet of that. She said things like "are you sure you didn't just train him not to jump on the furniture?" and "sometimes dogs slow down as they age", meaning well but ultimately making things a lot harder for me. This, coupled with Mav's happiness at the vet and overall stoic personality, gaslit me into thinking I was imagining things. I googled things like "munchausen by proxy symptoms" because I needed to know if I was the real problem.

When Mav went for his OFA hips and elbow rads, I had them take spine rads as well, hoping it would answer my question and help find out what was wrong with him. When his rads came back normal, I cried. It was partly in relief that it wasn't something structural, but also partly desperation that I couldn't prove something was wrong.

I pushed my vet to refer Mav for a neuro consult. It took four months to get her to agree and then for the neuro clinic to schedule Mav in. In that time, I started tracking his decline with a special quality of life chart I made specifically for him. It showed a degeneration of his QOL, but I still thought maybe I was dramatizing things and imagining it.

When Mav went for his neuro consult, they took him back for tests for ten minutes, then came back and solemnly told me they were certain his problem was neurological. They then asked me if they could take him back and let their vet students do the (non-invasive) tests on him for practice because he was such a happy dog. Of course I said yes.

They told me he wasn't a good candidate for surgery. I could do an MRI, but it would be expensive and wouldn't add much besides a formal diagnosis. They recommended palliative care.

I sobbed while driving home. Part of it was relief that I finally knew I wasn't imagining things. Most of it was heartbreak.

I scrutinized Mav's final decline because I couldn't let him suffer. I had hard lines ("when he can't run" and "when the painkillers stop working") and he reached those, but he was still so happy. He still had so much joy in his life. I made the call anyway.

The day came. He trotted into the vet's office like he was meeting his best friend at a restaurant. The vet carried him back to get a port and he wagged his tail the whole time. He scarfed down an entire fistful of cookies.

It was still, without a single doubt, the right choice for Maverick. I have thought about it from every angle, torn apart every single decision, and there's nothing I would do differently if I could go back and do it all again.

Now Rory came to me with a weird gait. She came to me with occasional dorsal shivers (the skin thing horses do) and extremely occasionally bunny hops while running. Not enough for me to think there's something seriously wrong with her, but enough for me to send videos to her breeder. I tried to believe it was just a symptom of puppy uglies or that she just needed more time to grow gracefully.

I debated it for two months, but I finally took Rory for an assessment at a sports physio vet here in town. When I filled out the intake form, I made it clear that I could be concerned over nothing, that this could be a waste of $85 and an hour of our time.

She scheduled us in, did her hands on assessment, and found a knot in Rory's thigh. She gave us some stretches and we have a few more rechecks, but Rory should be totally fine and her gait should improved within the week. All the symptoms point towards a longterm overcompensation to reduce weight on her one leg.

I felt so stupid going into the sports vet today. I almost cancelled my appointment twice because I was sure I was imagining things. Even when she was examining Rory, I was preparing my apology for wasting her time.

Rory is going to feel better. She's going to get to grow up without the effects caused from an overcompensation from shifting her weight in a weird way. She probably would've been fine even without the appointment, but she's going to be even better now.

It's a whole lot of text to say something cliché like trust your instincts or don't overthink it, but it is what it is.

#dogblr #about mav #about aurora #tw sick dog #(mav not rory) #tw euthanasia #mav memories #if im missing a tw tag just let me know #anyway this post is mostly so i can go back later #the next time im doubting myself #and remember that my brain is mean to me and i can just....... trust...... my eyeballs......

[mdemn]

“me, sam, and paulie, we’re still real tight. we been through some tough times together.”

lighthousekeeping - jeanette winterson, — , can we hang on? - cold war kids, sam, tom, & paulie (circa. 1930s) - mafia definitive edition (dev. hangar 13), tumblr user starpeace, letter to ann davidow (mar. 16, 1951) - sylvia plath, the snail and the rosebush (trans. jean hersholt) - hans christian andersen

#its BOTHERING me that i can’t find the source of this second quote anymore #anyway here’s some more pain and suffering #mde #mde trio #mafia definitive edition #sam trapani #tommy angelo #paulie lombardo #quotes #web weaves #jeanette winterson #cold war kids #mafia trilogy #mafia video games #sylvia plath #hans christian andersen #parallels #sam/tommy/paulie #post: poetry

[ley-med]

One thing that's been on my professional bucket list is epidural anesthesia. Since it's a pretty rare occurrence in my hospital, I haven't got to do one yet. So knowing that today is the day, that I will have a case that requires EDA, I've spent yesterday afternoon watching videos and re-reading on the theory.

So naturally, the patient tells me she changed her mind and would rather face the pain of a hemicolectomy than to face her fear of epidural analgesia...

And it hurts because lady! please let me help you! please let me ease your pain! But of course her decision is her decision...

So yeah, it's still on my bucket list.

#medblr #look i know it's her body and i respect her decision #but apart from the fact that i really wanted to try it #i really wish patients know they didn't have to suffer trough the pain #like im literally here to kill the pain #please let me kill your pain #it's so hard watch my patients suffering knowing there's more to be done #anyway i got her a transabdominal plane block #and some morfin and stuff #so she was mostly pain free afterwards when i asked her #small victories

[laniidae-passerine]

Honestly I think Dean Highbottom has some shit to answer to as well. The mockery, the derision, the outright admittance that he was hoping Coriolanus would fail and the Snow family would continue to suffer. How someone who loathed the Games still treated a young man with cruelty because of the past, because of social divides that would be so easy to tear down. In the end, it wasn’t just Gaul who shaped Snow into the man he became. So bitter and hateful. So incapable of compassion and forgiveness. Just like his father. Just like his Dean.

#like yeah there were a lot of things questionable about Snow even before he was chosen as a mentor in the games #but like. damn. you didn’t even consider the idea he could be better than his father did you? #the way kindness could have unravelled some of the hate in Snow’s heart #listen to me tell you the horrible things your father did. listen to me tell you that you can be different. you are not the past. #the divides between us do not truly exist. look at the weapon in your hand. it is real. and it can do real damage #but if you never hate someone - if they never fool you into letting violence into your heart - they can never make you use it #it breaks my heart. how could you hate a ghost so much that you’d kill a child. I don’t know. but the Dean does. and so does Snow. #the cycles run and run until somebody stops. and burns some bread. and shares berries. and takes an arrow. and says no more. I love you #it is difficult. it could hurt me. it could be the very last thing I do. it may not even serve me well. but I love you. I love. always. #how pathetic hate makes you. how strong love makes you. like staring at the Dean and staring at characters like Haymitch #like two substance abusing men who know the system inside out. who are complicit. who are victims. both embittered and angry. #but one saw a child and decided to punish him for the past #and the other saw a child and decided - okay. it’s been 23 years. my heart hurts. I want to give in. I want to hate you. I want to not care. #I’m going to care anyway. I’m in so much pain. It’s killing me. I’m going to care anyway. about you both. it won’t be perfect. but I care. #and I’ll be here through hell. and I will fuck up. so fucking badly. because I’m still addicted and angry and god knows I have suffered. #god knows these hands are bloody and they always will be. but I will keep coming back. I will keep trying. I will still love. #and in the end I will write names in a book that belongs to you and I will find a little bit of peace in a house where the sun shines #and the geese make ridiculous noises in the yard. and love will have seen me through. #HAYMITCH YOU WILL ALWAYS BE FAMOUS I LOVE YOU MY IMPERFECT DARLING #dean highbottom #coriolanus snow #the hunger games #a ballad of songbirds and snakes #haymitch abernathy #thg #abosas #suzanne collins #SHE WILL ALWAYS BE FAMOUS

[jesterguy]

I have so many posts in drafts about Palestine and I still just don't even know what to say or where to start

#how do i talk about my extremely zionist early education #how do i talk about my birthright trip at age 13 and the impact it had on me as a jew and as a human on this planet #how do i talk about my childhood rabbi reaching out the kids i grew up with offering support for those mourning the loss of history #and also those mourning the lives of colonizers (who ultimately are jews seeking a safe space after hardship at the great expense of others #my fucking guts have been clenched for days i feel like a shell #my mom is more worried about sending my transfem sister to college on her own in the inner city now not bc she's trans but bc she's jewish. #not to mention i always say im 'raised jewish' not actually jewish bc im not! im not jewish ive bever had a conversion. #what fucking right do i have #all i know is my upbringing and my ability as an adult to unpack it. #and how many things that i was taught are WRONG #i didnt get a christian brainwashing a got a zionist brainwashing #anyways all this to say theres always a lot of regard for Palestinian suffering on here as there should be in these situations #but young jews have a fucking weight on them right now like you just would not believe #not that its equal to or greater than the trauma of being palestinian. but just that its not mentioned right now #thats all ive got to say. idk yall are welcome to ask me more about this i just had to spew some of it #might delete #cam talks #if it isnt clear im fully pro palestine and my goal isnt to be any sort of devils advocate here. im just in a very complicated sort of pain #if i posted that email from my middle school rabbi here he would be doxxed and hate crimed. #and you know. i dont like the guy. but the fact that i know thats what would happen tells you a lot.

[seventh-district]

i’m not like other girls, my “Rest” stats are a heart rate of 110bpm and a HRV of 14 fucking milliseconds. :)

#Seven’s Public Diary #vent #vent post #cw vent #cw vent post #cw health #cw heart #i’m so stressed :) i am soooo fucking stressed and my body is Suffering because of it #i want to just lay here and stare at the ceiling but. maybe a little venting will help #sighhhh wish [N]MbD Sun were here to obsessively fret over me #he can be mean about it idc. at least i’d have someone acknowledging how bad things are for me #sometimes i wonder when the last time was that my body Wasn’t in fight or flight to some degree #have i Ever actually relaxed #hhhhhhh c-ptsd is a bitch #anyways there’s so much to vent about but i’m. doing my best to be vague. i need to be more vague about things #a lot of stuff i can’t vent about anyways. it’s too personal #so instead i’m gonna complain abt how i haven’t been able to play Genshin or Star Rail for nearly a month now #and about how slowly my back is recovering. it’s like every time i re-injure/have a flare up. it heals.. worse. slower and lesser #i dunno how it’s ever gonna get better. truly better. maybe i’ll live with this forever #if being fat is the problem which is definitely partly is. then yeah i’m fucked #all of my problems just make each other worse and i don’t know where the way out of it all is #every time i think i’ve found it i’m wrong and i just make it all worse #anyways as soon as i figure out how to strengthen my core without breaking my back. it’s over for u bitches #‘u bitches’ being uh. all of the shit that needs doing that i cannot physically fucking do right now #i miss being able to sit down. and i’m Regretting de-converting my standing desk back to sitting bc now. i cannot use my PC #which means i can’t fucking do a some of my work or play my silly little gacha games and i’m mad abt it #i’m mad abt a lot more serious things too but again. can’t talk abt it so i’m gonna focus on trivial shit instead #anyways. sorry as always to everyone i haven’t spoken with lately. and in general. i’m so drained from the Everything that i just. can’t. #it shouldn’t be this hard for me to stay in touch w ppl but. it is. guess i’ll add that onto my list of things to be stressed about #i’m so tired of everything man. and i hate being so negative and mean when im stressed & in pain. makes me feel like im becoming my father

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

does anyone have tips for how to deal with the phenomenon of 'autistic need to sort and hypercategorize things, except that there are multiple different axes by which to sort them and you can't use them all at the same time, and the result is overwhelm and distress?'

i've learned that tagging systems help, at least, but sometimes they uh. sometimes they can only go so far

#whosebaby talks #whosebaby makes things #whosebaby does game dev #ttrpg tag #i first wrote up that nightmare of tags when i only had three or four hacks in progress lmfao #looking at it now there are some i think i could narrow down a bit but it still makes me itchy #and with how much bleed and overlap there tends to be with different hacks and systems #it can be really inconvenient and disruptive to separate them completely for ones that have multiple drafts and test run docs #the tagging system i use on here is pretty damn loose by my usual standards but keeping track of game dev in the way i do it #kind of needs a lot more careful distinction and along multiple axes #the alternative is pretty much just one big soup which works *okay* but can still be overwhelming and a hassle to keep up with #anyway this is not remotely the only thing this applies to and Suffering Squirtle especially when urge to sort physical objects #and it's also annoying when it's something harder to quantify like #'i'm genuinely really having fun with this test scene/campaign and want to continue it' vs 'ehn. don't mind not picking this one back up' #sighs #also yeah i have. i have a lot of balls in the air here lmao #this doesn't include the i think like 5-10 docs i made on gdrive before i switched to the notes app because the formatting sucked to use #and the above folders also don't include things like the divination stuff i've made #me with nerve damage that makes handling physical tarot cards painful; making a dice table instead: try and stop me asshole #is there a name for that tag

[pepprs]

like…. UGH!!!!!!!!! girl help im in the water. girl help i cannot ASK for help i cannot communicate my needs i cannot translate myself a) at all but especially b) when there is no trust and… there is no trust. the trust was aready going extremely downhill and then it shattered and i am angry and hurt about it every day and i am still not over it. and this email i have to reply to has been making me upset for 2 days straight that’s why i haven’t replied i wanted it to happen but i don’t want to be a WIMP but i don’t see any way to make this work without admitting / revealing that i am one. about to swan dive into a vat of toxic sludge god bless 🙏🏻💞

#purrs #not abt anyone / anything here btw this is just….. puts my head in my hands. UGH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #yes i desperatey want to be independent and normal yes i am terrified of independence and normalcy i do not see a problem with this <3. yes #i want to redacted no i will not ask for it or assert my needs yes i Iwill always and forever let you walk all over me instead of with me be #becusss yes i feel like you will hate me if you get to know me yes these shoes are made for walking… ON EGGSHELLS!!!! 🤑💃🏻🤑💃🏻🤑💃🏻🤑 #delete later #hmmmm maybe i will reply on saturday and just think abt this some more and chalk it up to a busy week which it has been. but ummmmm pain and #suffering like. lol. the MORTIFYING ordeal of being perceived for what i am. of asking to be known. when i don’t know…. redacted. LOL ! #also literally it is so fucking sad im making this post in 2022. it’s so sad. like how did we get here. i am asking soooo fucking genuinely. #and also bashing my head against the wall at 2.5x speed. btw. if you [subject of this post] even care </3 #anyways *says im going to stop posting abt personal things* *immediately does it 10x more egregiously* i am normal i am i am iam i am 💁🏻‍♀️

[femme-malewife]

😶‍🌫️hm.

#im trying so hard to distract myself #im blasting music in my ears to the point i might end up with tinnitus one day #im replaying some of my favorite songs #im playing my comfort songs #but im ngl im still a bit nervous #the urge to just grab my pocket knife and just. slit my wrist open where a major artery is or smthin or down a bunch of pills is SO strong #im tired of living. im tired of suffering everyday and being too scared to message anyone abt it bc i hate bothering people #not to mention when i finally DO have the guts to msg someone theyre already going through sht and i dont wanna put more on them #its not the first and it wont be the last time that i have the urge to just fuckign kill myself but. #i genuinely just dont see the point in me living. #people on here only see the brighter sides of me bc i only post the best of my days usually #but ive been in an abusive relationship. i have religious trauma. i have trauma from when i was a child that gave me ptsd. #i have serious depression. and i cant even take anti depressants because im on seizure meds. #life has always been nothing but shit and im sick of trying to be positive for everyone only to be called all sorts of names and abandoned #idk. maybe dying really wont be so bad. maybe it wont be painful. i dont know. i really dont. #im typing everything here bc i dont want to post this openly and ik 99.9% of people dont read my tags anyway so its...a nice way of venting #i think.

[curly-cottage-girl]

Thank you for the advice! <3 It’s nice to hear from someone else who has gone through it (even if in my case I don’t believe it to be anxiety. I sat through two IOP groups for anxiety and am still waking up with chest pain). I am getting a barium swallow tomorrow to check GI but it’s been really frustrating all along. I really appreciate you answering me. It feels very isolating and alienating dealing with chest pain for so long and not knowing what to do about it. I’m so glad that you are in a better place now! Really happy for you! I hope someday I can live without chest pain again too

Thank you anon! I’m glad you are continuing to seek treatment and answers. You deserve to feel better.

(Actually now that you mention it, there was a specific stressful point in my life several years ago where I would have the sharpest chest pain in between sleeping and waking up. It would lessen somewhat when I was fully awake, but I remember it being there right as I was starting to gain consciousness. Idk man, the mind/body connection is weird, and it took a long time for me to even start to tackle it. But I hope that you can find and heal whatever is causing yours! Just remember that you are definitely not alone with this <3)

#non cardiac chest pain #asks #also I deffffff get the feeling alone and helpless in the face of mysterious pain #for me it was more the decade of stomach issues and numerous doctors tests that all revealed nothing #but there’s something so uniquely horrible about being in pain that you have no idea what it is or why it’s here or when it will come next #you just have to suffer and hope that one day you’ll have some kind of knowledge and agency over it #ughh #anyway anon. I hope you feel better real soon

[neverendingford]

.

#tag talk #watched “it follows” and I shouldn't have. didn't know it was horror going in but after a few minutes I did and I should have stopped #I'm apparently still not 100% past self-terrifying as a form of self harm. I knew I shouldn't have and I kept watching anyway #you know. most people don't know what terror is. they know fear. they know worry. they know anxiety. #terror is something different. I wish I could describe it but you really only know it when you have felt it. #that freezing up of your body. I guess some people get terror in different ways though. I freeze. others fight or flight. I just freeze. #that sense of helpless anticipation as you experience the certainty that the object of your terror is approaching. inevitably. #why fight it? you fucking can't. no matter what you do it'll always get you. it's stronger. more powerful. #hmmm. csa moment oops. I am tempted to make a joke here but I don't want to deflect from my issues. #I have trauma and I wish I didn't. I have hurt that I don't even consciously remember but my body does. #I do not have emotional trauma in the way that people have survivors guilt and feeling like it was their fault. any of those surface emotion #not calling it shallow. but like. it's like when you don't look at the needle and you don't even notice the skin prick but you feel it #you feel it hit your vein and you feel that deep body response that Something Is Not Right. #like when I got my wisdom teeth pulled and I elected to not go under for it so I was numbed but conscious for it. #part way through my body started uncontrollably shaking (well. sort of controlled. I'm good at that). #I didn't feel the pain. I wasn't afraid. but my body was feeling objective physical trauma and I had the response anyway. #I don't remember really. I don't have the surface level pain responses to the trauma. #but deep down my body knows something is wrong and I can't stop my bones from shaking even though I don't feel the pain. #hmmm. I should talk to my next therapist about this. #Lear chased off our last therapist when I was having my dissociative week after watching The Hunt. #which. tbh good riddance she was not equipped to handle us in the slightest. and we're talking to our friend/gf(?) again which is really nic #she and Lear had a few solid conversations too. which was funky cause before he snapped he didn't want anything to do with her #but we kinda had a moment where he realized he's just as fucked up as I am just differently. #anyone reading these tag talks might remember so I won't go over it again. #anyway. I'm not sleeping tonight. I think I should start taking the full pill instead of just the half. but it's just suppressing symptoms #I'm acting up because of my inner state. or maybe my inner state is tumultuous because of my outer condition? idfk #either way I'm suffering over here #not a sui risk but damn #I'm gonna finish patching the pair of pants I've been not working on for the past months

[mistiell]

If you’re doing requests and it’s not too much trouble what about Astarion and getting patched up and taken care of by mc

Here you go babes <33 (Also, if he's a little out of character, I apoligize, I really did try my best lol) WC: 1k

---

“Ow! Gods, could you at least try to be gentle?” Astarion hisses at the sting of the salve you’ve concocted, startling you into jerking the cloth you’re using away.

You huff and drop your hands into your lap, brows furrowed in very clear annoyance, “I am trying. If you’d stop squirming, it wouldn’t hurt so much.”

“Well, if it didn’t hurt so much, I wouldn’t be squirming, would I?” He quips. You roll your eyes.

Taking his wrist ever so gently, you turn it so you can see the gash on his forearm, fingers deft and kind even despite his whining. He’s being difficult; unreasonable. You’d be justified in being cruel with him.

You’re careful not to press so hard as you swipe the cloth over the jagged edge of his wound, blood seeping into the fabric and staining the off-white linen a dark crimson. Mouth quirked down, your face is drawn tight with a frustration he’s never seen on you before.

He hates it.

The fabric catches with a jolt of pain and he flinches more than he would normally, startling you away again.

You tut at him, stern, “Astarion.”

Sighing, he returns his arm to you wordlessly and glances away with a small, “Sorry.”

“You should have been more careful.” You chastise as you press the cloth against his wound; firm, but not harsh. Never harsh.

He scoffs, rolls his eyes, “So you're saying this is my fault.”

He wasn’t being serious, but it seems you take it as such. Your nose scrunches, and for a split second, you look properly upset with him. He’s expecting you to snap at him, maybe shout and finally leave him to tend to his wounds alone as he usually would.

You don’t. Instead, you take a breath and sigh, looking rather disappointed.

“You know that’s not what I meant. Contrary to what you may believe, I do actually care about you and your wellbeing.” Your voice is void of any sort of humour as you look back at his arm. Swapping the soiled cloth for a smaller, cleaner one, you fold it in half and press it to his arm, not sparing him a glance as you instruct him, “Hold this.”

He does as you’ve asked, and a stifling silence engulfs his tent. As you rifle through some healing supplies, he tries to come up with a way to get you talking again.

“Why-,” His voice doesn’t come out right and he clears his throat to fix it. It comes out wrong anyway, “Why are you helping me? This wouldn’t have been the first time I’ve dressed a wound on my own, you know.”

“That doesn’t mean you should have to.” You reply as you begin securing the cloth to his arm with bandages, “No one deserves to suffer alone.”

The sentiment makes his stomach twist. “No one?” He huffs a wry puff of laughter, “Not even someone like Cazador?”

Your face contorts in abhorrence, “I meant good people don’t deserve to suffer alone. That bastard deserves every bit of suffering he has coming to him.”

He barely even registers the second part of what you’ve said, too busy reeling from the first.

Good people don’t deserve to suffer alone.

Good people.

“You... think I’m good?” He asks far too softly.

Finally looking back up at him, you look utterly confused as you nod, “Of course I do.”

He opens his mouth only to find he’s seemingly lost his voice. His gaze flits over just about every inch of your face, searching for any sign that you’re lying; a glance away, a twitch of your mouth. Anything.

He doesn’t find one. His heart sinks and sings simultaneously and suddenly, he can barely breathe.

“Why?” He murmurs. Part of him thinks he’s not equipped to cope with your answer.

There’s a moment where you just... look at him. He’d say staring, but he doesn’t think that’s quite what this is. What you’re doing would be better described as seeing him; all of him. His heart, his soul. Everything.

“Good people can do bad things and still be good, Astarion. And being good doesn’t always mean being a saint.” Your voice is kind; tender. Maybe a little joking towards the end. He guesses you’ve seen the apprehension on his face when your hands slide down his arm to cradle his own. Dipping to catch his gaze, your own is suddenly serious; unwavering, “What happened to you, the things you did. None of that was your fault. You told me what Cazador did to you when you disobeyed him. I’d be just as terrible to deem you a monster for going along with it knowing what would have happened to you if you didn’t.”

Your words strike him like a hard blow to the chest. Perhaps he’s not all that concerned with being a good person, but he’s never truly wanted to be evil, either.

Eyes stinging, he lets out a shaky breath through his nose as he cups the nape of your neck to guide your forehead to his lips. He lingers there for a moment before he wraps his arms around you and pulls you in tight, mumbling against your hairline, “Thank you.”

Snaking your arms around his waist, you squeeze him just as fiercely, “Of course, my love.”

The laugh that escapes him comes out too watery for his liking, but he finds he doesn’t mind quite as much when its only you around to hear, “‘My love’? Isn’t that my line?”

You snort, and he feels you smile against his collar, “Perhaps.” “You do know that reusing material that isn’t yours is in poor taste, don’t you, darling?”

“Hush.” You pull back smiling, shaking your head as you ask in faux exasperation, “Now, will you please let me finish bandaging this?”

He follows your gaze to his arm and huffs dramatically, “I suppose.” “Oh, you suppose, do you?” You sass as you take hold of his wrist again, careful not to wrap the bandages too tight, “Do you also suppose you’ll sit still for me this time?”

“I do.” He grins.

And he does.

#astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x mc #hurt/comfort

[counterpunches]

source

Caption:

[[@else: I suppose it's time to tell my abortion story. Of the abortion that didn't happen, that led to me.

A lot of anti-abortion people put words & thoughts into the mouths of the unborn.

Well, I'm one that was recommended to stay unborn, who got born, and here's what I say.

My mother found our very early in her pregnancy that there was an extremely high risk to her if she continued.

Terminating the pregnancy was floated by one of the doctors. It would have been legal due to the risk to her, but heavily stigmatized.

Her family was deeply Catholic. She was deeply Catholic.

She did not terminate. The risk became a reality.

So I'm here, and she's not.

I'm glad to be here.

It is hard to put into words the gratitude you feel to a mother who sacrificed herself entirely for you, and I'm not going to try here.

Because I'm also very angry.

Without in any way taking away from the courage and selflessness with which she bore her situation and which she showed in all aspects of her life

I don't believe she ever really felt like she had a true choice.

The stigma, the religious dogma, the judgement - everything she'd ever known - told her she could not save her own life.

Her parents would have, however sadly, believed she'd go to hell. Her family and friends and community would have judged her.

Everyone she'd ever loved believed it was wrong. And so she believed it was wrong.

Needlessly.

I don't know what choice she would have made if it had been a true choice.

Maybe she would have chosen me anyway. Maybe she would have chosen to stay for her two already-existing children and for all those who loved her so deeply.

But she should have had a real, true choice.

Would I trade being here for that?

In a heartbeat. Without hesitation.

My siblings could have grown up with their mother.

My grandparents could have seen their beloved daughter live out her beautiful life, instead of mourning her every day until their deaths.

Her brothers and sisters would not still thirty years later feel the pain of losing the sistre they loved so much.

She could have continued to bring the light to the world that she had always brought, that I have heard so much about.

My father perhaps would not have descended into the grief & guilt that destroyed him, our relationship with him, the innocence of our childhoods.

Now, I think about how my young nieces & nephews will grow up without her, without the kind of grandmother I had. That pains me too.

I grew up in the devastation of her death.

I've watched the consequences of it play out for thirty years.

I can see what might have been differently if she'd had a true choice and it snatches my breath away, to see the suffering that didn't have to be for the ones I love most.

I know that it is not my family, but it is also profoundly difficult to know that it is because of me.

Or to be more exact, because the world did not allow my mother her right to a true choice, and my being here is perhaps a result of that.

It's not a burden I'd wish on anyone

I wish that I could have told her. It's okay. Stay. Live. Be happy.

I wish I could know that she knew that that was more than ok.

Don't I want to be here? Don't I want to be alive, aren't I glad to live??

Now that I'm here, sure. But had I never been, what would I have lost? Nothing.

You can't miss what you never had. Can't lose anything when you never existed.

There's no pain or loss in not existing.

I didn't exist then, to want anything. I didn't exist to hope or wish or fear anything.

I didn't exist back then. Not me. There was a possibility. An idea, a hope maybe. Some cells, a process in her body. Not me, any more than a sperm was me or an egg was me.

*I" didn't become until much later. Til I was born.

My mother wouldn't have taken anything from me or cause me any pain by living for herself, because I didn't exist to lose anything.

There was so much pain, so much loss in losing her. Loss that will ripple down generations.

So I will say to my dying breath, as the person who only lives because she didn't abort, that whatever she thought or chose or did not chose, she should have had a real choice to abort.

That she should have felt that aborting me was valid and good a choice as not.

Everyone should feel that, and have real access to enact that choice without obstruction or shame or question.

Whether it is their actual life at risk, or not. A forced pregnancy can be the death of many things, not just the end of ther person's life.

Having me took away from the world everything that my mother could have given it.

Forcing someone to have a child against their will can take away what that person could be and bring if they had their choice, whether they live through the pregnancy or not.

Most of all it takes away their right - their inalienable right - to choose how they live their life in their own body.

A non-person, a hypothetical future event, the birth of someone who doesn't exist yet, doesn't have that right.

Other people, who claim to speak for the unborn do not have that right.

We all lose so much by it. It can cause such pain and suffering, for child-bearers, for children, for everyone.

Do not pretend to speak for the unborn.

Do not pretend to speak for the children born against their mother's will.

Do not pretend that you care for them while you hide misogyny behind dogma.

My mother deserved her right to a real choice.

Everyone does. Unconditionally.

As the child who could have been aborted, I tell you - to oppose that right, let alone work to criminalize it, is unforgivable.

I'd like to emphasize because I didn't say it loud enough in the original thread:

There doesn't need to be a tragic story or a threat to life to make abortion ok.

It can be simply because you don't want to have a child. That's all. You still have the right to a choice.

I told my sad story because:

a) it is important to me to counter the rhetoric of anti-choice folks, that claims that if the unborn could speak they would be anti-choice

b) forced pregnancies can really f*ck up lives in many ways and that needs to be recognized.

But:

There shouldn't have to be a tale of woe to justify bodily autonomy.

It's a right. An absolute right. It should be protected by law.

That's it. That's all.

Last thingL I want this point to be heard, but I don't particularly want to deal with blowing up on twitter.

I will probably lock my account down at some point, but I would like this still to be shared. Maybe use an unroll app and share from there if you would like to.]]

#abortion #tw abortion #pro-choice #pro choice

[thewritetofreespeech]

Could I request Astarion and his s/o getting into a sass competition where Astarion ends up confessing to her by accident and now he's all flustered?

Astarion x Reader

“Can’t you go any faster?”

“I’m not exactly as well versed into taking these off as I am in putting them on, darling.” Astarion quipped at you as he fiddled with the lock on your cuffs.

Being somewhat of an anti-hero liaisons these days, the group had been pinched on some trumped up but completely true & legal charges of petty theft and larceny. Your options were fight, flight, or get arrested when confronted by the guards and charges. And since you couldn’t fight a whole city’s worth of Iron Fists, and running also seemed unplausible as you’d have to come back to the city sometime, you decided to take you lumps and went to jail. Luckily, where there’s a will there’s a way. Or in this case: a vampire with a lockpick up his sleeve.

“Why did you wait to do me last anyway? Just to see me suffer?”

“Well,” Astarion cooed, “it does have a certain visual appeal.”

You clicked your teeth and rolled your eyes. “Could you just hurry up? I’m starting to lose the feeling in my hands. All the blood is rushing out of them.”

“Oh, well, we wouldn’t want that.”

“Well, if you want my blood again, you should be more sympathetic to my pain.” You told him. Sighing heavily as one arm was free and Astarion moved on to the other one.

“Don’t you threaten me. Besides, if you won’t give me what I want, I’ll just move on to some other lucky companion in our camp.”

“Ha! Like anyone else would have you.”

Astarion frowned. “I’ll have you know that there are plenty of people who would welcome my teeth at their necks. Hundreds. Thousands!”

“Yeah. One blood obsessed drow and…who was the other one you tricked again?” You pulled at the shackles, which jiggled the irons and knocked the lockpick free, but unbroken. The vampire growled at you.

“I tricked you easy enough, didn’t I?”

“Only because I took pity on you.”

“Pity?!”

“Yeah.” You told him. “That poor, sad, puppy dog ‘please feed me’ look was just something I couldn’t say no to.”

Astarion growled again. “That is not how it happened. Besides, if you didn’t like it you wouldn’t keep asking for more.”

“Oh sure. Blame the victim.”

“You are not a victim!” He snapped at you. He seemed a little wounded by that one. Maybe you went a little too far. “Gods.” He cursed under his breath with a frown. “You are lucky I love you so much, otherwise I would just leave you here, chained up, and never bite you again. No matter how much you begged me.”

The lock finally snapped open and your arm fell to the side. You lifted it to rub your wrist but were uncharacteristically silent.

“Would it have been too much to expect a thank you??”

“Did you just say you love me?”

Astarion froze for a moment. A little wide eyed at your question. He seemed to be racking his brain for a moment. Trying to remember the conversation before an ‘Oh. Shit.’ expression came over his face. “What? Oh, that. Figure of speech darling, of course.” He let out a single nervous cough after that and a rushed, “let’s go meet up with the other.” Before he turned on his heels and made a speedy exit.

You rub your wrist one more time as a soft, shy smile came to your lips behind his back. You follow after him and meet up with the others. Waiting just outside the prison for the two of you, as apparently just around the corner was enough of an escape from the mighty Iron Fist.

“Ah! I just love this fresh air.” You exclaim, followed by more comments on how dusty & dank your cell had been, but really just watching Astarion’s shoulders tense.

You spent the rest of the day subversively tormenting Astarion. Making comments on how much you loved the weather, or loved a dress in a window. How much you loved dinner that night. How much you loved getting a good night’s rest that night.

By the time everyone had gone off to their respective tents for the evening, Astarion had apparently had enough and slunk up to yours. “I know what you’re doing. Now stop it!” He hissed.

“But I thought you’d love it.”

“Stop it!” He hissed again. If he could right now, he would blush. You were tempted to let him feed on you for a moment to get the full effect. “I mean it! How would you like it if I threw every verbal misstep in your face? I don’t keep bringing up the time you said Ibis instead of Ignis, now do I??”

It was pretty funny when that bird showed up.

“So, are you upset that you said it and I’m teasing of you, or are you upset that you didn’t mean it and I keep bringing it up?” You honestly didn’t know which answer would be worse at this point. You felt bad you had wounded his pride to the point that he came to talk to you. But you also don’t think you could take it if he told you that he didn’t love you.

Astarion just stood there for a moment, thinking, before he sighed and waved you off. “Just…knock it off ok. I’ve had quite enough today. I’m going to get some sleep and I’ll see you in the morning.”

He turned to walk away and just before he fell out of ear shot you called to him. “Hey Astarion,” he looked back over his shoulder at you, “I love that you could come and talk to me about this.”

He huffed, but you could see the corners of his mouth struggling to keep down. “Oh shut up.”

#;ask and ye shall receive (request answers) #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion bg3 #astarion ancunin #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate #tav #baldur's gate #baldurs gate imagine #baldurs gate scenarios #bg3 imagine #bg3 scenarios

[stevie-petey]

oh, you didn't know?

“I was told there’d be cookies.” Dustin interrupted, flashing Steve another smug grin that made the teen want to shove him into a snowbank.  “Yeah, for her.” Steve pointed at you. “Not for you.”

Summary: steve is pathetically in love with you and for some reason the universe hates him and continues to pray on his downfall. typical.

Rating: general, some swearing

Warnings: swearing, fem!reader, use of y/n

Words: 1.6k

Before you swing in: happy valentines day my loves <333 youre all my valentines, i didnt make the rules. anyways, pls enjoy this cute cheesy fic. dont ask how i thought of this: i simply do not know. however, its pathetic!loverboy!steve and i think we ALL deserve that today smh.

-

Steve has never had the best timing. 

When he first manned up to ask you out, it had coincidentally been the same day your childhood dog died. 

There he had been, flowers in hand and a proud smile on his face when he knocked on your front door, completely taken aback when you answered with tears streaming down your face. 

Immediately, Steve’s smile had dropped and he quickly pulled you close to inspect for any injuries or pain. “Y/N? What happened, is everything okay?”

“My dog died.” You wailed, even more tears spilling over. 

“Oh my god–”

“He… He didn’t suffer. He was old and–” You had sniffed, looking so small and frail in your heartbreak, before spotting the flowers in Steve’s hand. You gasped. “H–How did you know?”

Steve had been confused for a moment, but when he followed your gaze to the flowers that were originally meant to be “please be my girlfriend” flowers, his heart dropped. 

Well fuck. 

“Yes…” He cleared his throat. “I, uh. Had a hunch?”

You threw your arms around Steve, the flowers then crushed between you two, but he hadn't paid any attention to them as he wrapped his arms tightly around you. After a few seconds, you placed your lips by his ear and whispered, “You’re the sweetest.”

The sincerity in your voice had made Steve want to vomit. 

He hadn’t had a hunch that your childhood dog would die that day, but what else was he supposed to say? Hey, sorry your dog died, do you want to kiss now? Absolutely not. 

Steve is many things, and oftentimes he is an idiot, but he isn’t that much of an idiot.

So, instead of asking you to be his girlfriend, Steve had instead spent the next three hours at your house as he consoled you and watched your favorite movie to cheer you up. While it hadn’t been his ideal outcome, Steve had still been happy to simply spend time with you. Besides, you had needed him at that moment, so of course Steve was right there by your side. 

Life moved on, a few weeks passed, and eventually Steve decided to try again. 

You had no more animals to possibly lose, Christmas was approaching, and Steve was determined that this time he’d be able to ask you out. 

After buying you some chocolate and planning a fort building night on Christmas Eve, Steve had been sure that the night would go perfectly. There was a beautiful rose pendant bracelet sitting atop of his dresser in his room, wrapped and ready for you to open. 

Steve’s plan was foolproof. 

Build a fort, watch a cheesy Christmas movie, bake some cookies and drink hot chocolate, and then boom: Steve would ask you to be his girlfriend. 

However, Steve really should’ve known better. 

His parents had left that day and he had spent the entire time cleaning the house and preparing all the snacks before your arrival. At six on the dot, his doorbell rang and Steve eagerly ran over to answer the door. 

There, standing on his front doorstep, had been you with a smug looking Dustin Henderson.

“What’s the kid doing here?” Steve had asked, all his hope now coming crashing down upon him. 

You winced. “I know we made plans, I’m so sorry, but his mom asked me to babysit him and she offered me the rest of the money I need for your Christmas gift and–”

“I was told there’d be cookies.” Dustin interrupted, flashing Steve another smug grin that made the teen want to shove him into a snowbank. 

“Yeah, for her.” Steve pointed at you. “Not for you.”

“Stevie, I promise I’ll make it up to you later.” You groaned at him, and Steve knew you hated disappointing him. “Can we please just come inside? It’s cold and I was really excited for the fort.”

There are many times when Steve wonders just how he manages to get himself into obscure situations. That night, when he had Dustin Henderson wedged between you and him underneath a super romantic and cute fort that he had spent hours building, had been one of those times where Steve questioned his entire life. 

At that point, Steve was starting to wonder if he’d ever manage to ask you out in the first place. 

A few more weeks passed after that and you were still his best friend and nothing had changed between you two, but now Steve found himself constantly biting his tongue around you. He was so fucking in love with you, he had been for years, but after two failed attempts of confessing his feelings: it was becoming impossible to hold them in. 

Then, late January, your birthday came along. 

This time, Steve was sure that he had it all figured out.

You had wanted to grab some dinner at the local diner you loved, and Steve thought that a small, toned down proposal to date would be perfect. He’d give you your birthday gift (a matching set of earrings for the rose bracelet you now wore every day), he’d order you the strawberry shortcake you adored, and when you weren’t looking, Steve would ask the waitress to write “happy birthday, my love” on the cake. 

Steve was a goddamn romantic genius, honestly. 

Except that isn’t what happened. 

What actually ended up happening was the waitress somehow hearing “my love” as “Milo” and Steve had wanted to bash his fucking skull in. 

“Who’s ‘Milo’?” You had asked once the cake came out, confusion evident on your face. 

Steve, now used to nothing ever working out in his favor, had simply sighed and said, “Who knows, man. Just eat your cake.”

You had giggled, and the sound was enough to cheer Steve up a bit. Sure, it was looking more and more like the world didn’t want you with him, but at least he got to hear your laugh and admire the way your eyes shined whenever you looked at him. 

Now, a few weeks later, it’s Valentine’s Day and Steve is terrified that he will somehow set your house on fire with his horrible luck. 

He has spent the last two months trying to ask you out. Now, on the day of love itself, Steve is almost too terrified to even approach you. At the rate he’s going, if he tries to ask you out again, he’ll end up telling you he hates you or something. 

He’s miserable. 

Which is how he finds himself once again outside your door, except there’s no flowers in his hands, and he knocks. 

You guys haven’t made any plans tonight, but it’s Valentine’s Day and Steve is so in love with you that it hurts. 

The second his knuckles leave the door, you swing the door wide open and jump into his arms. “Stevie!”

Surprised by such an affectionate reaction, Steve almost falls into the bushes in front of your house. “Woah, hey!”

He steadies the two of you and you simply squeeze him tighter and giggle. You’re in an exceptionally good mood, almost too good of a mood, and Steve’s hands are sweating. He hadn’t exactly come here with a game plan in mind. 

“Happy to see me, I take it?” He mumbles into your ear. 

“Duh,” you press a kiss to his cheek. “It’s Valentine’s Day, why wouldn’t I be excited to see my boyfriend?”

This time, Steve actually does fall into the bush behind him. 

“Oh my god,” you run over and quickly try to help the boy up, but Steve is staring up at the night sky, overcome with pure shock and fear. “Stevie? Steve!”

Steve lays there, motionless as you continue to tug at his jacket. “How long have I been your boyfriend, Y/N?”

At his question, you stop tugging and look at him, confused. “I don’t know, honestly. How long has it been since the fourth of July?”

“The fourth?” Steve sputters. “Y/N, it’s Valentine’s Day and I’m just now finding out you’re my girlfriend?”

“Oh, you didn’t know?”

“No!” Steve finally scrambles out of the bushes and grabs your face with his hands. He feels insane, his hands are shaking a bit as he holds onto you. “When did this happen?”

You scrunch your eyebrows together. “On the fourth. We saw the fireworks, cuddled on the picnic blanket you stole from your mom, you grabbed my hand, and then told me you never wanted this to end. I just… I assumed you meant our relationship?”

Steve blinks. “You… You are the love of my life, Y/N L/N.”

“Well, I’d hope so–” Suddenly Steve’s lips are against yours and he’s kissing you with everything he has within him. All those months of pining after you, all the times he’s failed in asking you to be his, and this entire time you had somehow been his all along. 

God, he is so stupidly in love with you. 

He nips at your bottom lip and you make a sound that’s so soft and sweet in the back of your throat that has Steve’s head spinning. He nips again, revels in the breathy sigh you release against his lips, and Steve’s hand tugs harshly against your waist. 

The kiss is perfect and everything he’s ever dreamed of. 

Then, a thought occurs to Steve. 

“Wait a minute,” he breaks the kiss and your love drunk expression almost makes him groan. He tells himself to focus, even though it’s incredibly difficult to do so. “If we’ve been supposedly dating since July, didn’t you wonder why I hadn’t kissed you yet?”

“Oh, I just thought you were shy.” You shrug, as if it’s no big deal. Then, with a teasing smile, you add, “And I guess I love you too.”

Steve decides, then and there, that you will be the death of him.

And he couldn’t be any happier as he pulls you in again for another bruising kiss. 

Afterall, Steve has about seven months to make up for lost time. 

-

⌑ writing masterlist

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x fem #stranger things #m's writing #fluff #valentines day #enjoyyyyyy <3 #mans just wants a gf #bless him