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honeykawa · 4 years ago

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pairing: oikawa tooru x single parent! reader

genre: fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

word count: 4.8k

a/n: wow it’s been a hot minutes since ive posted but this is something ive been working on for a while. hope you enjoy!

Summary: Oikawa wanted nothing more than a happy life and when he met you he thought it was within his reach. The days he spent with you filled him with so much happiness, happiness he didn’t even know existed. The way you smiled, laughed and cried for him made him want to keep you all to himself. But he knew he couldn’t be so selfish.

“Y/n!” your nephew called out to you as he ran home from school. You picked up your adorable nephew and gave him a big hug.

“How was your day Kota?” You walked back to your home as Kota told you about his day at school. His face lit up as he spoke to you. It was only recently that he had begun to smile again since the passing of his mom, your sister, and had been placed in your care.

“Do you want to go to the volleyball program for kids your age today?” he nodded his head enthusiastically. “Then go get changed and we’ll go,” you smiled as he ran off to his room. As soon as he ran back out he was putting on his shoes to leave, “Let’s go y/n!”

He was basically dragging you at this point as he ran up the stairs to where the volleyball program was. “Kota please slow down! Someone might fall!” And as if on cue you tripped over your own feet but before you hit the ground you felt someone’s arms catch you.

“Are you okay?” You looked up to see a man with brunette hair and a gentle smile. He helped you back onto your feet as your nephew came over to you with teary eyes. “I��m so sorry y/n!” You quickly kneeled down to his height and patted his head, “Ahh it’s okay Kota! Look! I’m not injured anywhere so go ahead and go to your lessons!” He nodded his head and went off after you wiped his face.

After you made sure he was enjoying himself you turned to the man next to you and bowed, “Thank you so much! I’m sorry if I troubled you,” your words were frantic. “Don’t worry about it! Just be careful okay? Wouldn’t want you to worry Kota,” his words sounded playful but the concern was there.

You both started walking to where all the kids were playing, “Do you know Kota?” The way he casually said his name made you curious. “Oh, I’m one of the instructors here! My name’s Oikawa Tooru.” Your eyes widened at the name. “Oikawa Tooru? I thought you lived in Argentina?” You could have sworn that he played for the national team there. His hand scratched the back of his head and a light laugh left his mouth, “Aha well I recently moved back after another injury and now I help out here in my free time.” His story left a lot to be desired but you left it at that.

“Well in any case thank you for looking after Kota while he’s here! Ever since his mother passed he hasn’t really smiled but after attending this program it’s come back little by little,” he watched as your gaze settled on your little nephew, “I know I can’t ever replace my sister but if I can do anything to make him happy then I’ll gladly do it.” The words just fell out of your mouth as you spoke to him, “Sorry if that was too much! I have a tendency to overshare sometimes. I’ll let you get back to the kids now! I’m sure I’ve taken up too much of your time already. Thanks again!” Before he could even say anything you had already run away.

You came back a little later to pick your nephew up with groceries in hand. You didn’t realize how late it had gotten and rushed back only to see Oikawa and Kota still playing together even though everyone else had gone. A smile appeared on your face at the sight of them together. “Ah y/n!” Oikawa saw you and waved.

You walked towards the two of them and picked Kota up. “Thank you for watching him Oikawa! I lost track of time at the grocery store.” Kota was already asleep in your arms and you both chuckled.

“Must have been a long day for him.” Oikawa smiled as he ruffled Kota’s hair. “I’ll see you later y/n” he was about to turn and leave before you called out to him.

“Wait! Would you like to have dinner with us tonight? It’s the least I could do after you stayed with him,” the smile on your face made his heart speed up a bit. It couldn’t hurt to just have dinner, right? He nodded his head and followed you home.

“Here let me carry that,” he reached for the grocery bags in your hand and took them before you could object. “Oh, thank you!”

As soon as you two made it back to your apartment you set Kota down in his room. “You can just sit at the table and wait for it to be ready! I hope you don’t mind having curry. Do you like yours spicy or sweet?” You were so preoccupied placing everything out you didn’t even hear Oikawa behind you.

“Hmm let’s do sweet since Kota’s still young,” his breath tickled your ear causing you to jump. “Oh sorry y/n! I didn’t mean to scare you!” Even though he said that you could see the mischievous look on his face.

You rolled your eyes and went back to cooking, “Sweet it is then. Now, either sit back down or help me. Don’t just stand there.” you lightly smacked him with the back of your wooden spoon to which he just laughed. “Ok, ok. Just tell me what to do.”

Dinner was quickly ready and Kota came out of his room rubbing his eyes. “Why good Morning, Kota! C’mon, let’s wash your hands before we eat.” Oikawa’s eyes never left you as you took care of your nephew. You were so kind to him, it almost made him jealous. Would you also wish him a good morning after he wakes up? It was something he could only dream of.

“Oikawa why are you here?” Kota took a bite of his food as he asked his question, making it a bit hard to understand what he said. “I’m just here to play with Kota,” He patted Kota’s head to which his eyes lit up. “Really?! Can we play some more volleyball?”

You laughed at their little interaction which caught Oikawa’s attention. It was a sound that was soft and light on his ears, he wanted to hear it again. “Kota, there’s nowhere to play volleyball here so why don’t you show him your room after we eat instead?” Kota nodded his head and quickly finished his meal.

A little while later Kota fell asleep for the night after forcing Oikawa to play with him and now it was just you and Oikawa in the living room. You brought out a can of beer for him while you just drank some water.

“You’re not going to drink with me?” You shook your head and looked towards Kota’s room. “If something were to happen to him I need to be ready to act. But please, go ahead.” He opened the can and talked with you for a little bit.

After a couple of cans, he was definitely starting to feel a little tipsy. “You know, you’re a good parent. Kota might not be your kid but you treat him with such care and kindness. I was worried when I first met him that his home life wasn’t good since he was always quiet and never smiled but...after meeting you I can see that everything’s fine.” his eyes widened and he quickly covered his mouth. “I’m sorry, that was rude of me. My lips are a little loose right now.” He laid his head on the table with his shoulders slumped, a bit embarrassed of his sudden words. You just smiled and ran a hand through his hair, “Thank you Oikawa. You can sleep here if you want. Let me go get a few blankets and pillows for you.”

You set up the couch for him and helped him settle for the night. “Goodnight, sleep well,” but before you could leave he grabbed your wrist and pulled you onto the couch with him. “Sleep with me” he leaned down to give you a kiss but fell asleep before he could with you locked in his arms. You took a sigh and brushed some hair out from his face. Despite the happy-go-lucky attitude he had, you felt a sense of sadness whenever you looked at him.

The morning quickly came and Oikawa woke up before anyone else. He felt a weight against him and when he looked down his memories of last night suddenly came back to him. Of course, he was embarrassed by his actions but at the same time waking up next to you didn’t seem so bad.

He felt you starting to move around and saw your eyes flutter open, “Good morning, y/n~” He had a cheeky smile on his face that made your face feel as if it were on fire. You immediately shot up, “G-good morning, Oikawa.” You stood up and headed towards your bedroom to get ready for your day. You had to go to work in a little bit and needed to get Kota to school soon.

You quickly came out in work attire and made some breakfast for the three of you. Kota sat down at the table and ate quietly as you prepared some bentos for the day. “Okay, Kota! We have to go otherwise you’ll be late for school!”

You turned to Oikawa and handed him a bento as well. “I don’t know if you need to get to work too but here’s some lunch! See you later Oikawa!” You parted ways at the street and he couldn’t stop the smile from appearing on his face. You truly were a kind person.

A few days passed and Oikawa decided to stop by your apartment to return the bento box to you. Maybe he was acting on his own whims but he just wanted to see you again. “Oh, Oikawa! It’s pretty late but come in!”

You ushered him into your house and poured him a cup of tea. “So to what do I owe the honor?” He held up the bento box and handed it back to you.

“Just thought I’d return this. It was really good, I wouldn’t mind eating your food every day,” his eyes locked with yours and you could feel your face heating up from his blatant flirting. The look on your face made his breath hitch though. Just how cute could you get?

“You know, you should call me Tooru. We’re friends, right?” The more embarrassed you got the more he wanted to tease you. He wanted to see all of your expressions. “C’mon, say it!”

He leaned closer and closer to you as he kept trying to get you flustered. “T...Tooru,” he smiled at the sound of his name.

“See? Was that so hard?” He patted your head to which you just swatted it away. He knew when to stop and you might end up hating him if he went any further. So he drank the rest of his tea and then got up.

“Well, it’s been fun y/n but I’ll see you later.” He was about to leave before you stopped him.

You pulled on his shirt and gave him a quick kiss on his cheek before letting go. “Good night, Tooru” and with that, you closed your door leaving him there too shocked to even move.

Once he got a hold of himself he chuckled a bit as he walked home. He had always thought you were interesting but who knew you could catch him by surprise like that as well.

A couple of weeks went by and you’ve seen Oikawa a few times at volleyball lessons and you talked to him a bit every time. Your conversations with him, though short, were always meaningful. They were the highlight of Oikawa’s day and he couldn’t wait to see you again.

Sooner or later he and Kota had started playing together on the weekends because if there was even a slight chance that he’d see you again, then he’d take it. Plus Kota wasn’t bad company. Oikawa had always been fond of the kid, he saw the same loneliness in Kota that he had in himself.

Whenever you came to come pick Kota up you always greeted the both of them with a smile. With the way you looked at Oikawa anyone could tell that you liked the man. Soon enough, you two waved goodbye and left the park.

Kota wanted to leave it alone...and he did for a few days but the weird feeling he got when he saw you two together looking at each other like that made him want to know. So he finally asked you what’s been on his mind.

“Do you like Oikawa?” You and Kota were walking home together hand in hand. An unconscious smile appeared on your face and maybe you weren’t aware of it but Kota saw it. And it left an uneasy feeling in him again.

“I like him. He’s a good person, though I get the feeling he’s hiding something but I hope that he’ll be comfortable to let me see someday. Now c’mon, you don’t want to miss volleyball right?”

You dropped him off at practice and as Kota ran off to go to his friends, Oikawa came up to talk to you for a moment. Kota looked back at the two of you and the weird feeling from earlier came back to him. He didn’t know how to even explain how he felt other than...scared.

When you came back to pick him up he was still feeling weird. He didn’t like feeling like this. The next few days he couldn’t shake this feeling and he didn’t know what to do.

As time went on the gross feeling never left Kota and you noticed his change in behavior but thought that he would talk to you when he was ready. “Kota? Do you want dinner?” He just shook his head and went to his room. Odd.

You decided to call your parents and talk to them about it, “I don’t know what’s happening. He was just starting to smile again but he hasn’t in the past few days...I think something happened but he won’t talk about it. Maybe he’d be better off somewhere else.” Little did you know that he was listening and he felt like time just stopped around him.

The sudden noise of your front door slamming shut scared you. You said your goodbyes to your parents and went looking around. It was raining so maybe it was just the storm, “Kota?” You opened the door to his room only to see it was empty.

You immediately ran out of your apartment after noticing Kota’s shoes weren’t there anymore. “Kota?!” you called out his name as you ran, not knowing where he would even go. Tears were streaming down your face at the thought of something happening to him.

Suddenly you got a call on your phone from Oikawa, “Tooru I lost Kota I don’t know where he is or where he went!” your sobs could be heard through the cell phone and he could hear the hurt in your voice.

“Don’t worry, y/n. He’s with me at the park, the one where we have volleyball and he’s fine.” He heard you hang up the phone and in less than five minutes you were seen running towards the two of them.

Despite the ground being wet and hard, you slid onto your knees and took Kota into your arms, “Kota! I was so worried! Why would you run off like that?!” Kota pushed you away and wouldn’t meet your eyes. “Kota?”

Oikawa patted the kid’s head, “Don’t you think it’s time you told them? And you,” his eyes landed on you, “listen to what he says. He’s nervous and yelling won’t help right now.”

You watched as Kota looked up at you as he tried to say something but the words were struggling to leave his mouth. “Y/n please don’t get rid of me I promise to be good! I don’t want to be alone again!” He went in and hugged you, clinging to your clothes.

You held him as he cried, “Kota I love you so much I would never get rid of you!”

“But..but you said maybe it’d be better if I went somewhere else…” Did he overhear your conversation with your parents? You shook your head and held his face in your hands.

“Kota...that was because you seemed so sad again lately. I thought you didn’t like living with me so I thought that you’d might want to go somewhere else. But I would be so happy if you wanted to stay with me.” You kissed his tears away and picked him up as you stood. “Let’s go home, okay?” You then looked at Oikawa and gave him a smile and a slight bow before walking back home.

Once you thought Kota was asleep you called Oikawa, “What’s up y/n?”

You sat on your bed while you talked, “Just calling to thank you for today. I didn’t know what I would do if I lost him. So thank you for finding him.” He smiled listening to you speak.

“Don’t worry about it. Just be sure to keep talking to him. He’s quiet but...he’s holding a lot in.”

“You sound like you’re talking from experience.” You let out a breathy laugh but were met with silence on his end.

His eyes narrowed slightly before speaking his next words, “And what if I am?”

There was a brief silence between the two of you, “Then I’d let you know that it’s okay to lean on other people every once in a while. And that it’s okay to lean on me.”

His breathing was silent and you thought that maybe he had hung up. “Don’t be so serious y/n! I was only joking. Well, I have an early start tomorrow so I’m going to let you go. Good night, y/n.”

He hung up before you could even say goodbye back. Just when you thought you were having more than a surface-level moment, he goes back to playing around. You took a deep sigh, slightly hurt but also maybe you were overestimating your importance in his life.

“Y/n?” you looked over at your door to see Kota just barely poking his head in.

You just smiled at him and waved him in, “Can’t sleep?” He snuggled right up to you and shook his head no.

“I thought you sounded kind of sad so I came over.” The walls here must be really thin huh. But you just pulled him close and the both of you fell asleep together.

A few days later it was finally the weekend so Kota went to the park to see if Oikawa was there to play with him. Oikawa had been meeting up with the kid to watch him while he played. That scare really did a number on you so Oikawa thought the least he could do was watch him while you were busy.

After an hour or so of playing together Kota asked what’s been on his mind ever since you and he had that conversation about the tall setter a while back, “Oikawa why do you seem different when it’s just you and me?” Oikawa let out a small laugh as he bumped it back, “Different? Different how?”

Kota tossed it up while not holding anything back, “You just seem lonely around others but at the same time it doesn’t feel like you want to get to know them. But I feel like you don’t hide things around me”

Oikawa had never felt so called out before, especially by a seven-year-old. “I think y/n would still like you if you let them get to know you. I mean, I still like you,” Oikawa just shook his head and focused on keeping the ball up. “I’m not confident they would but thank you, Kota. I like you too.”

The two of them played for a bit longer before Oikawa asked Kota a question, “How would you feel if I took y/n from you?” the ball dropped onto the ground as Kota just stood there with a look of pure fear evident on his face. “No! Please don’t take them!” Oikawa almost regretted asking him the question, “I don’t want to lose y/n!” His heart shattered at his words and before he knew it Kota was being held tight in his arms, “Don’t worry Kota, I promise I won’t take them.”

Oikawa soon walked Kota back to your apartment once the sun started to set. Kota immediately ran to you as soon as he opened the door and you gave him a nice big hug, “Oh, welcome home!”

Welcome home. It was a simple greeting but he hadn’t heard it in years. The thought of you greeting him like that after a long day...it was something he could only long for. “You’re staying for dinner right, Tooru?”

How could he say no? Dinner went along just fine and soon enough Kota fell asleep in your lap as the three of you watched some cartoons with him. Oikawa’s eye never left you as you set Kota down in bed.

“Sorry ‘bout that. He always falls asleep at the most random times.” You flipped off the TV and went to get up to clean but was quickly pulled down onto the ground with Oikawa on top of you with both hands beside your head.

Your eyes locked with his, his clouded with a mixture of emotions. He wanted to take you and keep you only for himself. “I think they would still like you.” How he wanted to believe that was true.

He wanted your kindness and the soft and gentle feeling you gave him whenever you spoiled him but he also wanted to see you withering beneath him on the edge of tears. He leaned down and kissed you and you could feel the desperation in it. Both of you pulled away out of breath. He went to kiss you again but you stopped him before he could. “Tooru, Kota’s in the other room. We can’t do this here.”

It was brief but you saw a look of hurt run across his face. He got off of you and stood up. “Sorry, y/n. I’ll see you sometime!” He quickly put his usual smile back on his face before leaving out the front door not even stopping to look at you as he left.

Oikawa walked home drowning in his thoughts. What the fuck was wrong with him? For a brief second, he forgot about everything else like it was only you and him. But you had Kota and Kota needed you. But the smile you showed him...the laughter you had...he hated this feeling. The feeling of having something so close but just barely being out of his reach.

Once he got home he curled himself in his bed, still possessed by thoughts of you. ‘I want them. I want them. I want them so bad.’ He held his head between his hands, ‘I want to be loved by y/n.’

Kota’s crying face suddenly flashed through his mind, “Please don’t take them!” and he knew he had to stop. He couldn’t do that to that boy.

Oikawa didn’t come back to volleyball lessons after that. You hadn’t seen him in a little over a week and it was starting to scare you. Your change in behavior started to worry your nephew and he started to feel somewhat guilty.

Tears started to form in his eyes as you two sat at the table together, “Y/n.” He got out of his chair and came over to you to which you picked him up and sat him in your lap, “What’s wrong Kota?” The tears just wouldn’t stop coming out of his eyes as he tried to explain what was wrong.

“Oi-Oikawa and you aren’t talking, right? That’s why you’ve been so sad! Y/n doesn’t smile anymore and it’s my fault! I said something mean to him and said he couldn’t have you and now he’s angry...I’m sorry, y/n!”

Your heart ached at his words. You held him tight against you until he calmed down, “Shh Kota it’s okay. It’s not your fault, it’s not anyone’s fault, do you understand? Oikawa isn’t angry I promise you that. He knew you’d answer like that because he knows how much I love you.” His sniffles got quieter and quieter as you spoke. “I love you so much Kota but I also...like Oikawa too. Would it be okay if I fell in love with him?”

Kota nodded his head into your chest and got off of your lap, “Okay because I like Oikawa too. Please find him.” You ruffled his hair and kissed his forehead. “Thank you, Kota. Please know that this doesn’t mean I’ll love you any less, rather, my love for the both of you will be doubled.”

The next day when you went to drop off Kota at volleyball you talked to some of the other instructors there and they told you where Oikawa lived. You thanked them and went on your way hoping that it wasn’t too late.

You finally found his apartment and knocked on the door in front of you hoping that he’d answer it. The door slowly opened to reveal a disheveled Oikawa. “Y/n, What are you doing here?” His voice was cold and emotionless and his eyes seemed like they were just looking through you instead of at you. You could cry seeing him in this state. You couldn’t hold yourself back before lunging at him for a hug. But you weren’t met with a warm welcome.

“What, I kiss you once and you want me? You must be so easy huh. Bet you’d do it with anyone that showed you any amount of affection.” The words just...came out. It hurt him so much to say them but Kota...he couldn’t bear for Kota to cry because of him.

But you wouldn’t let go. “That’s not what you really think. I know it isn’t. I love Kota so much and I’ll always be praying for his happiness but I love you as well and want nothing more than for your happiness too. Please don’t think that I can’t love you both. You’re always holding back how you feel and your true self may be selfish and stubborn, but Oikawa is Oikawa through and through and I’ll always love every aspect of you. I know I don’t know everything about you but you don’t know everything about me either. I want to be with you and Kota does too! So will you please stay?”

You held onto him as if your life depended on it and slowly he raised his arms to hug you back. Tears streamed down his face and he held you as close to him as he could. “I’m sorry y/n. I’m so sorry. I love you too.”

You had told Oikawa that your parents had picked Kota from volleyball and he was staying at their house. “Is it really okay to send him off like that?” Oikawa couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty about making him feel like he needed to leave.

“Kota actually said he wanted to go visit them. When I said it was okay he refused to take no for an answer.” you chuckled at your nephew’s clumsiness. But he was a good kid and you loved him for it.

Oikawa came up behind you and snaked his arms around your waist, “He’s a sweet kid.” He kissed you tenderly and slowly you two made your way into your bedroom.

Every touch from you was like a drug leaving him only wanting more. That night was filled with nothing but gentle touches and soft kisses. And he absolutely couldn’t get enough of it. Enough of you. “I love you, y/n” he wiped the tears that left your eyes as you laid under him. You leaned into his touch and kissed his warm hand, “I love you too.”

The next day Oikawa went to go pick Kota up while you went to go get some groceries for dinner and Kota immediately clung to Oikawa’s leg upon seeing him, “I’m so sorry Oikawa! Please don’t leave again.” Oikawa picked him up and threw him into the air a bit to cheer him up. “Don’t worry Kota, it’s not your fault. Y/n talked some sense into me so I won’t be going anywhere.”

The two of them walked in the door and were welcomed by you, the person that they both loved the most, with a smile on your face.

“Welcome home you two!”

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clanoffetts · 4 years ago

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someday. | paz vizsla x fem!reader

chapter iv

masterlist

synopsis: Paz Vizsla finds himself stuck on Dantooine with a broken ship and no credits. Luckily, he finds you, a mechanic that will fix his ship for passage to Hosnian Prime. Over the course of your time together, a courtship blooms.

warnings/things to note: star wars swear words; reader has hints of PTSD that show up in this chapter, mentions of night terrors/nightmares and some alluding to depression; blatant lack of knowledge of ship mechanics; altering the canon timeline a little (my blog, my canon)

word count: 5.7k

note: i ended up moving a lot of Han and Leia stuff to the next chapter, so this one is a little shorter than I originally anticipated. still, I hope you enjoy!

Travels in hyperspace got very boring very quickly. The view out the windows was the same blue light, and there was no turning or swerving or other ships passing to break up the monotony. Sure, cuddling and holodramas were nice for a while but two days in, you were restless with boredom.

Paz, of course, was not restless. Occasionally he’d do some push-ups or pull-ups but you knew it was not the result of boredom.

“Kebiin’ika?” he asks, sitting down in the cockpit with you.

“Hmm?” You tear your eyes away from a book on your datapad to look at him.

“Wanna learn how to use one of these?” He pulls his vibroblade from his belt and holds it up. It looks very different from the one he gave you, there are no intricate markings on the one he holds.

“I think I’m going to be a slow learner,” you warn.

He laughs. “I’m patient.”

“I know,” you nod, remembering how he could just sit for a long time. “Alright. When am I learning?”

He gestures his arms out. “Right now. We can move the table and the couch.”

You agree, anxious to finally have something to do. You help him with the anchors on the round table and the booth-like seat around it, moving them up towards the cockpit. Paz carries the seat with ease, leaving you behind to grunt with the heavy metal table until he finally returns to help you, sliding it across the floor with one arm.

“Show off,” you huff, but he just chuckles.

“Go get your blade, mesh’la,” he commands. You turn and walk back towards your room, retrieving the blade from your bag where it was carefully wrapped in some fabric. You study it as you slowly walk back to the common area, taking note of the differences between yours and the one Paz had pulled from his belt earlier. The blade that was now yours had a beautiful handle made of some sort of dark stone, embellished with gold metal. The blade had intricate carvings on it as well, one you recognized from Paz’s armor as well as many you didn’t recognize. It seemed important, almost like an heirloom, why’d he give it to you?

You return back to the common area and find him just standing there, waiting. “You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” you reply.

He’s holding a wooden blade in his hand now, it’s dull and chipped in some places. “Don’t want to hurt you,” he explains. “You don’t have a body of beskar.”

“Right. But I don't want to hurt you either,” you say, though you didn’t think you could hurt him if he tried.

He knocks his knuckles on the chestplate. “Mesh’la, beskar is one of the strongest metals there is. Resistant even to the weapon of the Jedi.”

You were a little shocked, first at the mention of Jedi, and then that beskar could hold strong against the swords you’d heard of the Jedi carrying. You’d seen Luke Skywalker’s on his belt, but never seen it ignited. You knew Leia trained with him often and now had one of her own, but you never asked to see it. “Oh,” you say. “Then I guess I don’t have to worry about you.”

“Right,” he agreed. “Now, what do you know about fighting?”

You recalled your very brief ‘lessons’ back on the rebel base. “Shoot the guys in white.” He looked a little confused. “The stormtroopers,” you explain.

“Yeah, I picked up on that part,” he says. “That’s all they taught you?”

You nodded. “I was a mechanic, love, not a soldier.”

“Alright. Well, maybe that’s best,” he says. “No bad habits to unlearn.” You agreed with a nod. “Ok, first thing is your stance.”

He begins moving your body around, your arms and hips and feet, positioning you for the form he thought would be best for someone your size. He was murmuring things to himself but you had no clue what they meant. You also had no clue how you were supposed to get into this exact stance in the middle of a fight, but you let him do it anyway.

“And then you’d take the blade and jab me here,” he says, gesturing to his stomach. “Won’t work on a man in beskar, but most people won’t have beskar. Or any armor, for that matter.”

He continued showing you moves, small self defense ways to get out of bad situations. He made you run sequences with him, but they made you feel a little useless. Yeah, if he let you win you wouldn’t learn, but, Maker, a win was needed right about now. It’d been three hours, you were sweaty and defeated.

“I have a man in beskar,” you say, defeated yet again, laying on the floor. “So do I really need to be proficient with a blade? I’m obviously not doing well.”

He cocks his head at you, sitting down against the wall next to you. “Kebiin’ika, I won’t always be there. Besides, you are doing well.”

“I’m doing awful, Paz, don’t lie. I haven’t even gotten close to winning.”

“Because I’m a Mandalorian, mesh’la,” he tells you. “I’ve been training with a blade since I could hold one. You’ve been training with one for three hours, and I promise that you’re doing great.”

You hum out a thank you and then sit in silence for a moment. Your eyes wander back down to the blade vibrating in your hand, studying the markings. “Why’d you give me this one?” you ask. “The pretty one, I mean.”

“It was forged from some of my mother’s armor,” he says. “House Vizsla and Mandalore’s markings are on the blade. Armorer made it for me when I was fourteen, when I put my armor and helmet on for the first time.”

“Your mother’s armor?”

He nods. “They both died, my buire, when I was thirteen. Armor is passed down through families, this armor has been with us for as long as anyone can remember.” He doesn’t expand on his parents’ death, and you don’t pry. The wound still seems fresh, and you wouldn’t be surprised if that’s because he’s never had anyone to talk to. Mandos don’t seem like that type.

“And you trust me with it?”

“Of course I do,” he says. “Weapons are a part of my religion, mesh’la. A part of who I am, especially that blade. I wasn’t just giving you a blade.” You knew it had been a show of vulnerability, but not one so great, so full of trust.

You didn’t know what to say. What could you say? So you just leaned into him, ignoring the annoying press of his armor into your side, relieved at the coolness the metal provided.

You’re not sure how long you sat like that, lost in thought. Paz broke the silence, “We should probably eat and rest. We’ll be in the Hosnian system in ten hours.”

It set in as you watched Paz make soup for lunch that you’ll be seeing Leia soon. You hadn’t kept up with her life in the tabloids, that’s not what she would’ve wanted nor what you wanted. You wanted to know everything, to spend days in her house on Hosnian catching up. But you didn’t want to keep Paz from his home. And yet, you didn’t want to find out what would happen when you and Paz arrived back at his tribe, how they would react to you, an outsider.

As boring as it was, if you could stay in hyperspace forever you wouldn’t need to find out. But you wouldn’t be in hyperspace forever, and you will find out, but for now you push it out of your brain and focus on Paz as he brings soup over to the recently re-anchored table.

“Here you go, mesh’la,” he says, sitting the bowl down. “Mandalorian specialty.”

And it was special. Full of spices, ones you would’ve never put together, and vegetables, it was hearty. You slurped it up quickly, before excusing yourself to take a shower so Paz could eat as well.

The shower was nice after your sparring (if you could even call it that), the hot water felt great on your now sore muscles. You had a hunch that trying to move the table contributed to that just as much as the knife fighting.

“Paz?” You called as you exited the ‘fresher, now in pajamas. You weren’t too tired, but you knew it was important to make the transition from Yavin time to Hosnian time, and once you were cozy in bed, it wouldn’t be long before the tiredness set in.

“I’m coming!” He called back, and sure enough he appeared, holding something in his hand. “Made you this while I ate. Well, I altered it.”

He holds out a leather sheath that holds the vibroblade. It’s identical to the dark brown one that still sits on his belt, but this one has a shorter belt, and the leather fits the blade snugly. “Thank you, Paz,” your voice is breathy at the gesture.

“If you’re gonna fight someone with it, you’ve gotta have a way to carry it,” he says.

Before you realize it, you’re on tippy toes, placing a kiss to the cheek of his helmet. “It’s lovely, Paz, thank you.”

He slips past you into the ‘fresher for his turn in the shower as you admire the craftsmanship. Where he shortened the belt and tapered the sheath, the stitching got uneven, but you didn’t mind. The stitches were made with care, with kindness, with love.

As Paz stripped off his armor in the ‘fresher he felt heat rise up in his body. You’d kissed his helmet. He’d never seen anyone do that before. It was adorable and there was a small mark left on the cheek of his helmet by your lip balm. As the water heated in the shower, he stood and studied the mark of your lips.

You were settled on the bed when Paz emerged from the ‘fresher in his sleep clothes. He always looked strange with the helmet and none of his other armor on, but it was endearing. You had the sleep mask in hand, a precaution that Paz insisted you didn’t need, but one you took anyway. “You ready to sleep, mesh’la?”

“Yeah, I think so,” you say. “C’mon.” You pat the spot on the bed next to you. The cold of hyperspace is starting to create goosebumps on your skin, and Paz Vizsla is basically a furnace. He moves wordlessly to turn off the lights, watching as you slip the mask over your eyes. The click and hiss of the helmet sounded through the room, barely audible over the hum of the ship.

The bed dips down as he climbs in, sheets rustling as he settles himself. You lay on your side facing where he would be, but you weren’t sure how he was laying. Extending an arm, you tried to find him.

“Need something, kebiin’ika?” He asks as your hand lands on his stomach.

“Just looking for you,” you murmur. He gives you a little chuckle and places his hand over yours. His hand is large, and it engulfs your small one easily. “Night, Paz,” you whisper.

“Night, mesh’la.” His voice is a low rumble in your ears, and combined with the warmth he’s brought to the bed, sleep comes easily.

The chrono is cruel the next morning. You got enough sleep, sure, but it was cold when you got out of bed and stumbled into the cockpit where Paz sat. He swiveled around in his chair to look at you, still in your pajamas. “Good morning, mesh’la,” he greets. “We’ll be there in two hours. There’s some cereal in the kitchen, if you’d like it.”

You did like it, the sugary cereal didn’t seem like something Mandalorians would keep on hand, but you were glad they did. You excused yourself back to the bedroom, going through your things and picking out jeans and a t-shirt. For a brief moment you wondered if it was nice enough to meet with Leia, but you quickly dismissed the thought. Leia didn’t expect an ornate gown, you knew that.

You and Paz moved about the ship, preparing for the landing and preparing the ship to sit dormant in a hangar for at least a few days. Every so often, Paz’s gloved hand drifted to the side of his helmet, where your lips had pressed the night before. He watched as you folded your clothes in different ways so that they’d fit comfortably in your backpack. He watched as you bit your lip, studying the ship to make sure nothing you’d need had been left behind. The same lips that touched his helmet. The heat rose in him again, culminating in his face, making the helmet uncomfortable.

“Kebiin’ika,” Paz says to distract himself. “Where’s your vibroblade?”

“In the cockpit.”

“C’mon,” he says, gesturing you into the cockpit behind him. “Wanna see what it looks like on you.”

You shuffled into the cockpit behind him and he threaded the belt of the sheath through the belt loops of your jeans, fastening it around your waist. He takes a step back, looking at you with your new weapon.

“Very badass,” he says and you laugh, the both of you taking your seats.

Finally, the ship jolted out of hyperspace. The stars, the planet, and all the other ships in the system were a welcome change from the monotony of hyperspace. “Ready, kebiin’ika?”

“Born ready,” you reply, grinning at him. There’s a giddiness welling inside you, not only that you’d be seeing Leia but that you’d be in a huge city again, on a Core planet. The years spent in the Outer Rim were peaceful, but sometimes you just want to be surrounded by people.

You were cleared to land on a platform in the heart of the city, Korrie said Leia requested C-3PO be sent for you. Her way of making a joke, you figured. The workers of the hangar would take care of the ship once you’d landed, and you knew Paz was less than thrilled at handing his ship over into the hands of strangers.

“We’re guests of the princess,” you remind him before you disembark. “They won’t hurt your ship.”

“The princess doesn’t know you’ve brought a Mandalorian,” he retorts. If you could read minds you’d know he was terrified of ruining your trip to Hosnian Prime by simply being there.

But you couldn’t read minds. Instead, you weren’t really sure why that mattered, sure you’d heard of some bad feelings towards Mandos in the Outer Rim but you couldn’t see why that would carry over into the Core. But that didn’t matter at the moment, you needed to get off the ship and into the speeder with the droid.

You were the first to step out of the ship, the Mandalorian strangely meek behind you. Everyone in the hangar seemed to suck in a breath as the armored man stepped out behind you, all motion stopping momentarily as everyone took in the sight of a Mandalorian. It reminded you of when Paz first walked into town on Dantooine, the whole town halted for a moment.

“Miss! Miss!” A mechanical voice is calling across the hangar.

“We’re coming, Threepio, give us a second,” you say, pushing on through the oglers towards the golden droid at the mouth of the hangar. The speeder is state of the art, blue with no top, perfect for the kind weather of Hosnian Prime.

“I’m afraid I was only expecting one person,” C-3PO says as he ushers you two into the speeder. “Though I suppose it won’t affect anything.”

Paz looks at you, and you can only guess he’s rolling his eyes. “This is my Mandalorian friend, Threepio,” you say. “He brought me here.”

“Splendid.”

“How’s Artoo?”

The speeder pulled out of the hangar, exposing you to the breeze as you sped over the city. “Artoo is with Master Luke,” the droid began, continuing on in excruciating detail about how the astromech’s wiring is performing.

“That’s nice, Threepio,” you say finally, cutting him off halfway through his opinion on the best replacement for R2-D2’s outdated thrusters. “I think I’d like to enjoy the scenery for now. In silence.” You heard Paz exhale in relief next to you, the Mandalorian was close to losing his practiced patience with the droid. C-3PO had that effect on some people.

“Very well then. We will be arriving at the Organa estate in fifteen minutes.”

You looked out over what was now the less busy parts of the capital city, the further away from the new Senate building, the quieter things got. No wonder Leia liked to live so far out of the city. You found your mind drifting from the scenery to what Leia’s home may look like. Would it be in the typical, Alderaanian minimalism style? Or is she too much like you, pushing away reminders of home? But Alderaan was so much more to Leia than just home.

The speeder stopped on the steps of a fairly small place on the far outskirts of the city. It was a sleek white on the outside, boxy in shape like most of the homes you’d seen so far on the planet. Paz drew in a breath next to you as the two of you exited the speeder, C-3PO leading the way to the door.

Once inside, you knew Leia was not, in fact, like you. It was like you’d stepped back into a home on Alderaan. The art on the walls evoked Alderaanian style, the white furniture and gray accents were the tells of an Alderaanian decorator.

“Y/N!” Leia calls from a hallway at the back of the foyer. “And...another guest?” Leia’s hand went to her belt, you weren’t sure if she was searching for the safety of a blaster or her lightsaber, but neither was there.

You step forward, ahead of Paz. “This is my, uh, boyfriend, Leia.”

“Ma’am,” Paz said with a bow of his head, not sure if that was the right thing to say.

Apparently, it wasn’t, as C-3PO stepped forward. “It is ‘Your Highness’ upon the first address of the conversation. After that it can be ma’am, princess, or senator.”

“Oh,” Paz said. “Sorry, Your Highness.”

“No, no,” C-3PO started, but Leia cut him off.

“Hush, Threepio, it doesn’t matter,” she says, still eyeing Paz. “Leave us, Threepio.” The droid almost seemed like he would protest, but the look in Leia’s eyes told him not to, so he shuffled out of the foyer and deeper into the house.

Leia motioned for you to come to her, and you did, wrapping her into a hug. “I’ve missed you, you know.”

“I’ve missed you, too,” Leia said into your neck. “But why in the nine Corellian hells would you bring a bounty hunter into my home?”

You step back and look at her. “He’s not a bounty hunter-”

“Well,” Paz says from behind you. “Not right now, anyway. I only do it out of necessity for my people, ma’am.” You’re slightly taken aback, but take care not to show Leia. Not yet, anyway. It hit you that you’d never really inquired more about the work that had brought your Paz to Dantooine.

Leia looks torn. “You know what one of those Mandalorians did to Han. To me, to Luke.”

“Boba Fett?” Paz asks. He’d heard of the princess killing Jabba the Hutt. He’d known it was Fett’s work. Hell, there wasn’t anyone in the Outer Rim that didn’t know.

“You knew him?” Leia is growing hostile again and you aren’t sure what to do.

Paz shakes his head. “Fett had never even been to Mandalore. I can assure you my people are not like him.” Paz knew that was a bit of a lie, but he hated to screw up this reunion for you. “I’ll give you my weapons while I’m here, if that’s what you want.”

“No,” Leia says, her guard dropping. “I know you’re not a threat. Not to us anyway.” And then she looks at you, then back at Paz. “C’mon, I’ll show you to your room and you can put your stuff away.”

You follow her through the house, and you aren’t sure how to feel. It feels like Alderaan, the decor, the climate, even the smell somehow, and it’s welcoming for a moment until you remember that this isn’t Alderaan, and nothing will ever be Alderaan, no matter how well curated. But you trained your eyes on Leia, her hair wrapped in braids upon her head, a comfortable white sundress fluttering about her as she walked.

“Here you are,” she says, leading you into a brilliant room, furniture white, though some pieces tinted with blue. The bedspread is blue, the curtains are blue. All pale and deep shades, the room is calming. “Blue’s still your favorite right? Figured this would be right up your alley.”

“Yeah, blue’s still my favorite,” you smile. She’d remembered.

“I figured as much. Considering you chose a mountain of blue to be your boyfriend,” she quips, and you roll your eyes. Paz felt his face get hot under the helmet again. Boyfriend, boyfriend, boyfriend, he repeated in his head. “Oh, will you be needing a room, too?”

“No, ma’am, I don’t think so,” Paz tells her. “Unless kebiin’ika would like me too.”

You shook your head. “He’s with me,” you say as you toss your backpack onto the bed. “Paz, I’d bet you’d like some time without your helmet. Maybe Leia and I can go somewhere else to catch up?” Paz got the hint like you knew he would, and he nodded.

“Great,” Leia smiled, taking your hand and pulling you out of the room. “Through here,” she says, walking through what you assumed was the master bedroom into a study.

The study was cozy, full of actual paper books, and warm colored furniture as opposed to the stark white of the rest of the house. Han’s doing, you assumed. “Your home is gorgeous, Leia,” you tell her as you sit in one of the large chairs.

Leia drapes herself on one of the couches and her dress settles around her stomach, where her hands clasp atop it. She sees you staring at her belly and smiles. “I’m pregnant,” she says.

“Congratulations!” You exclaim, and she thanks you. “I swear that wasn’t there when I commed you a few days ago, though.”

She giggles. “My clothes are good at deception.”

“Taking notes from Amidala, I see,” you joke, and she laughs.

“I did actually ask for Rabé’s help. She was my Amidala’s wardrobe mistress,” Leia says. “But enough about me for now. Since when do you date Mandalorian bounty hunters? And why does he call you kebiin’ika? You don’t have a bounty on you-”

You laugh, cutting her off. “It’s a nickname, Leia, I promise I don’t have a bounty on my head. And, well, it’s a long story,” you say.

You’re not sure how long you sat there, telling Leia of your time on Dantooine, all the way up until the day that Paz came into town, and when you’d landed on Yavin, and when he’d given you the blade.

“You’re kidding! He gave you a vibroblade? Where is it?”

You pat your hip, and unsheath the blade. You move to sit next to Leia on the sofa, holding it out for her to see. “These markings on this part of the blade are his house markings,” you say, “And these are just Mandalorian, I think.”

“So, is it like an engagement ring?”

You shook your head. “No, no, I don’t think so. But from what I gather...Mandalorian courtships usually mean marriage.”

“You’re ready for that? You’ve known him, what? A week?”

You sighed. “No, I’m not ready. But I think I could be. Someday.”

“I hope so,” she says. “He makes you happy. A lot happier than the last time I saw you.”

“Leia...I just, I don’t think I can be involved anymore,” you say, the winds of the Naboo lake country gently whipping through your hair. “Now that we’re not fighting all the time, I’m thinking a lot more. About Alderaan, about everyone we’ve lost.”

Her hand was soft on your back. “I know it’s hard,” she said. “But if you take this position in the New Republic you can help so many people. And you can build a house that feels like home. Like Alderaan, just like Sabé made her home like Naboo.”

“I can’t Leia. I can’t make a fake Alderaan and pretend it’s ok. I won’t,” you say. “I have dreams of Alderaan that break me. Dreams of Yavin that break me. Dreams of kriffing Endor that break me. You’re asking me to break myself again for a kriffing committee.”

Leia’s cheek landed on your shoulder. The tears fell from your face now, and by the feeling of her cheek, she was crying, too. “No,” she whispers. “You can’t break. I need you, a lot of people do.”

“They’re going to have to learn to live without me for a while, I think.”

“But, whenever you’re ready, you’ll come find me, right?”

“It’s going to be a long time, Leia.”

“But you’ll still come find me. I don’t care if it’s four weeks or forty years, you could show up at my doorstep and I’ll hug you like I always have.”

“Yeah,” you said. “I am a lot happier. I worked through some things. Some things can’t be worked through, though.”

“Alderaan,” she murmurs, leaning into you. “I know. That’s why I love this room so much. It’s so Han, so Corellian, and so not Alderaan.”

“Didn’t take this as a smuggler’s style,” you joke.

She laughs a little, too. “He doesn’t have a style. I think this is Lando’s doing, Han just put his name on it.”

The room did seem to have Lando’s taste written all over it, though you could guess Lando would rather not have Corellian furniture in his house. Your eyes drifted back to Leia, her hand absent-mindedly stroking her stomach. “When’s the little one due?”

“Four months,” she said. “It’s a boy.”

“A boy with a name?”

“I’m thinking ‘Ben’,” she says. “After Ben Kenobi. Han was thinking ‘Bail’, but I don’t know. I like ‘Ben’.”

You smiled. “That’s a nice name,” you say. “Besides, a Skywalker needs a Jedi name.”

“Right,” she agrees.

She sits up to face you now. “Will you train him?”

“No,” she says. “I’ll let Luke do that, when he’s ready. And when little Ben is ready. It was never my destiny to become a true Jedi. That was always Luke.”

You smile at her. “You know Mandalorian armor is invincible against a lightsaber?”

“Beskar,” she says. “Yes. It’s very strong. I saw a staff made of beskar once, back on Alderaan when I was little. In a museum, I think.”

“That’s what Mando wears,” you catch yourself before you say his name, replacing it with the one-size-fits-all nickname.

She laughs. “Mando isn’t his name right? That’d be awfully unoriginal.”

“No,” you reply. “But Mandalorian religion, it’s...it’s interesting territory. I know his name, though.”

“What’s he look like?” She asks with girlish intrigue, the gossipy voice usually reserved for teenagers poking through.

“I don’t know. And even if I did, I couldn’t tell you.”

Her brow furrows. “You’ve basically agreed to marry him and you don’t know what he looks like?”

“Ok, first, I agreed to court him.”

“Same difference,” Leia interjects.

You roll your eyes playfully. “And, second, it’s against his creed to remove his helmet unless we’re married.”

“Oh, maker, I can’t believe you’re going to marry someone for just a kiss, not even dic-”

“Leia!” You cut her off. “Your son can hear you, you know. Through the Force or whatever.”

She lightly hits your arm. “Not how the Force works, dear. And you know I’m right.”

“You aren’t right, your highness,” the nickname annoys her to no end, and that’s exactly why you employed it. “He’s sweet to me, Leia. He even taught me how to fight with this thing yesterday.” You pat the vibroblade on your hip.

“Mandalorians must be patient. I remember when you tried to learn to shoot a blaster,” she smiled with nostalgia at the ‘lessons’ from Yavin IV. The marksmen gave up quickly on teaching the mechanics how to fight.

“Ok, I wasn’t that bad,” you tell her. “And my Mando says I’m doing very well with the knife, thank you very much.”

“Oh you’re in love,” Leia said. “I can see it in your eyes. Kriff, before long you might look like me!” She gestures to her pregnant belly. “Do the Mando babies pop out with the helmet on? That might be an issue.”

You let out an embarrassingly loud laugh at the thought. “Maker, Leia, you’re getting ahead of yourself.”

“Seriously, though,” she says, putting a hand on your knee. “I’m glad you’ve found him. I think he makes you glow.”

It was well past lunch time when the two of you ventured out of the study again. You’d barely scratched the surface with Leia, but the morning’s talking had already made you tired. “Threepio, we’re hungry,” Leia said as she led you into the kitchen. “Ah, Threepio, you sure you aren’t a mind reader?” The table was set for three, some kind of elegant sandwich and soup combo awaited you.

“Do we invite Mando? Since he can’t really eat with us?”

You nodded. “I’ll go get him, if that’s ok? Don't want him to get lonely or something.” You walked back out of the kitchen, picturing Paz sitting on the edge of the bed still as a statue.

You knocked on the door. “Paz? It’s me. Can I come in?” It was a moment before he answered, and then you let yourself through the door. He was lounging on the floor against the bed, your datapad in hand. Not at all what you pictured.

“Hope you don’t mind,” he says, holding up the datapad. “Wanted to catch up on that show. I’ve been a little confused.”

You giggled a little at the thought of a big bad Mandalorian itching to watch a holodrama. “It’s alright, love. Would you want to come sit with Leia and I while we eat? I think she’d like to get to know you as much as she can.”

Paz wanted to say no. He wasn’t a social man, especially not after the tension between him and Leia from earlier, but he knew it meant something to you. So, he climbed up off the floor and followed you into the kitchen.

“Master Mandalorian,” C-3PO greeted as Paz walked into the dining area. “Uh, su cuy’gar. Olarom at yaim Organa-Solo.”

“I can speak Basic, droid,” Paz says as he sits down.

“What’d he say?” You and Leia asked in unison.

“He said ‘welcome to the Organa-Solo home’ in Mando’a,” Paz translates.

Leia turns to the droid. “Where the kriff did you learn Mando’a?”

“I am fluent in over-”

“Yeah, yeah,” Leia said, and waved him off. “I don't know how I forget that.”

You took a bite of the soup, not as good as the Mandalorian dish Paz had made, but it was delicious nonetheless.

“Mando,” Leia says between bites. “I assume you’re from Mandalore. Do you still live there?”

Paz shakes his head. “No, ma’am.”

Leia looks at you, and then you look at Paz, silently trying to let him know that it’s ok to open up to Leia. It was ok for you, just not for him. Not yet, anyway.

“Do you have any siblings?”

“Used to.”

“Not much of a talker,” Leia murmurs to you. “You met my friend on a job?”

He nods. “More or less. I was coming home from one. Had to stop for supplies.”

“You have a family in your Tribe?”

Paz nods. “The Tribe is my family. All of them. We care for eachother.”

The lunch went on like this, and it was a bit tiring. Leia would ask a question, she would get an answer that did not satisfy, and then ask another. You wished Paz would open up, but you understood. Maybe, with time, he would, and Leia would approve of him. You didn’t need Leia’s approval, but you wanted it. You wanted her to like him, she was very important to you, just as he was.

Once the bowls of soup were scraped clean and sandwiches were gone from two of the three plates, C-3PO informed Leia that she was needed at the Senate building.

“I’ll be back soon,” she said as she tied an overdress around her. “Help yourselves to anything, alright?” She kissed you on the cheek and went out the door.

“I’m sorry I’m not good company,” Paz says as soon as Leia leaves. “It’s not in my nature.”

You shake your head. “Nonsense. She understands, even though it may not seem like it.”

“I am trying,” he insists. “I just can’t answer those questions.”

You take his gloved hand into yours. “I know,” you say, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand. “I’ll explain more about Mandalorians to her when she gets back. And who knows? Maybe someday you’ll be an open book with her. Best friends with Princess Leia of Alderaan.”

He laughs. “Yeah, maybe,” he says, voice dripping with uncertainty.

It had been a long time until Leia returned home. You’d wandered around the living room for awhile while Paz ate his late lunch, and then the two of you sat on the couch and watched a holo. Paz felt like he was intruding, and told you so many times, but C-3PO consistently reminded the both of you to make yourselves at home.

“I have prepared a dinner for the two of you, if you would like it.”

“Thank you, Threepio,” you say from your place on the couch. Paz had shed his cuirass so you could cuddle into his chest.

He released you from his arms and said, “You go eat first, mesh’la.”

“We can eat together. Take it to the room and sit back to back,” you say. “Would that be alright, Threepio?”

“You might spill it,” Threepio says. “But I suppose it would be alright. I will bring the trays to the Blue Room.”

You nodded your thanks, Paz standing behind you. He picked his cuirass up off the floor and followed you to the bedroom.

“Where we sitting, kebiin’ika?”

“Floor might be best,” you reply.

He nodded, lowering himself onto the floor and you followed suit. C-3PO appeared with the food on trays, handing them to the two of you and shutting the door on his way out.

The familiar click and hiss met your ears and you saw the helmet hit the floor in your peripheral. The food was a pasta with some vegetables. “Looks good,” you say.

“Indeed,” Paz agrees, and you hear his fork begin to twist on the plate.

As you are, your mind returned to your conversation with Leia. Her asking if you were ready for marriage. Paz told you Mandalorian courtships were short, it was a throwaway comment and you knew that, but it still hung over you.

“Paz?”

“Hmm?”

“Are...” you stop for a moment, wondering if you should continue. You decided to. “Are we going to get married?”

You couldn’t see Paz almost choke on his food, but you heard it. Once he recovered from his coughing he said, “why are you asking, mesh’la?”

“You remember when you told me Mandalorian courtships don’t last long? And that usually Mandos who court get married...”

He sighs. “That’s what it means for a lot of Mandalorians. But you, my love, are not a Mandalorian. Our courtship means what you want it to mean.”

“But we might get married?” You weren’t sure how shaky your voice sounded to him, but you hoped it wasn’t much.

“Yeah,” he replies. “Someday, I hope.”

You smile at your plate. Both of you felt the hot flame of love consuming your bodies, rising to your faces. “Someday.”

tags! @remmysbounty @ladyjenny19 @shadowsoundeffects13

#paz vizsla x reader #paz vizla x reader #paz vizsla #paz vizla

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deancas-fanfiction · 4 years ago

Text

Hardest Part is Letting Go

Part 1/7

Pairing: Dean Winchester/Castiel

Summary: Upon his diagnosis of a terminal illness, Dean vows to spend the rest of his short life with Cas by his side, completing his bucket list while learning what it really means to live and love.

Also available on ao3.

Dean had never been a romantic – that was always Cas and his extravagant date planning. It was incredibly endearing, but Dean just wasn’t one of those people that cared about that kind of stuff. He loved it because Cas loved it. Funny how a terminal illness can change someone.

It was one year earlier, just after Dean’s thirtieth birthday. Recently he hadn’t been feeling well. His energy level was low, and the sweeping waves of nausea became all too familiar. While low energy wasn’t exactly uncommon for him, this was different. Dean barely had the energy to get out of bed. At first, Cas assumed it was some kind of flu, so they spent day in bed watching old western movies and eating soup. It was a few days later when Dean realized something wasn’t quite right. Along with the loss of energy, came the loss of appetite, and consistent headaches. Dean hid it well, though. After all, he didn’t want to worry Cas or Sam. So he pretended everything was fine for the next few weeks and almost convinced himself he was starting to feel better. He thought that with time it would eventually go away. However, it ws quite the contrary.

One morning Dean awoke at his worst with a sharp, hot pain in his head; it was by far the most excruciating thing he has ever experienced. Biting down on his pillow, he screamed. He screamed until his voice was hoarse, just trying to release some of the pressure in his head. His nails dug into the blankets, begging for the pain to end. Soon darkness took over his vision and he drifted into blissful unconsciousness, away from the pain.

The next time Dean woke up he was in a hospital, with an IV hooked to his right arm and an oxygen tube in his nose. The fluorescent lights were harsh, highlighting the deep bags under his eyes. At least the pain in his head had subdued. His vision became sharper as the flog from the drugs cleared. Dean looked around the room, noting the ‘get well soon’ balloons and cards that littered the room. To his left was a card with a scrawl so ineligible it could only be identified as Sam’s attempt at handwriting. But the thing that caught his attention was Cas, sitting in this stiff chair next to his bed, his head resting on his hands.

Dean shot up, suddenly alarmed as he remembered the events that led to him being here. He sat up, pulling at the IV, panic rising in his chest. His hate for hospitals was heightened and all he could focus on was getting out of here. But then Cas’s head shot up to the sounds of Dean rustling in bed. He scooted his chair closer to the bed, resting his hand on Dean’s.

Dean frowned as he observed his boyfriend’s face. His nose was runny, and his eyes were pink and swollen. He had been crying. It was enough to stop Dean’s frantic movements as his heart rate increased. Cas very rarely cries, and when he does it’s for good reason. Cas ignored Dean’s questioning look. With light touches, he brushed Dean’s matted hair out of his face. It was comforting, but if anything, it just worried Dean more.

An advanced terminal illness. That’s what the test results said.

Those four words ruined Dean and Cas’s life. Those four words unraveled years of plans the two had previously made, imagining they had all of the time in the world. Now he was told he would have two years if he was lucky. Dean’s doctors offered aggressive treatment to prolong the inevitable, but he denied it. He knows what that treatment does to patients. They’re violently ill, bed ridden, and spend most of their time imprisoned in hospitals. Dean wanted to spend the rest of his short life as himself, with Cas by his side.

It wasn’t something to easily become accustomed to. Cas was in denial in the beginning. He went about life as if nothing has changed, but at night he would hold onto Dean extra tight, with no intention of letting go. It went on like this for a few weeks, until Dean came home from visiting Sam for the weekend to find Cas sitting on the kitchen floor sobbing. Dean dropped his duffel bag and wrapped his arms around Cas. He held him close, kissing the top of his head, burying his nose into his boyfriend’s dark hair, memorizing his scent. His hand rubbed small circles on Cas’s back, knowing it comforts him. He nearly let out a humorless laugh at the thought that he was the one dying, but also the one doing the comforting. It was then that he realized Cas is the only that has to live without him. If it was Cas dying, Dean knew he’d be completely broken too.

After they both released the emotions they had been repressing, they actually felt a little better. Now that they accepted the inevitable, they could live each day to the fullest. Without further discussion, Dean and Cas quit their respective jobs to focus on living life in the now. Besides, that’s what emergency savings are for, right?

This brings Dean to where he is now. Sitting in the living room at three in the morning with a glass of bourbon, paper, and a pen. He could feel his health slowly deteriorating and he knew he was running out of time. Dean estimated he had about six months remaining. At night he’d close his eyes and be met with the image of a clock. It would start with the seconds slowly ticking by and then morph into something sinister. Suddenly it was a calendar, with pages tearing away and flying off until there was nothing left but blackness and silence. There was nothingness. He’d wake in a cold sweat, with the constant reminder of the inevitable looming over his head. Dean shook his head, shaking the dark thoughts. He took a sip of his drink before focusing back on the task at hand.

1. Have breakfast in bed

2. Stargaze until the sun rises

3. Kiss in the rain

4. Rent a beach house for the weekend

5. Watch Sam graduate from law school

6. Go on a road trip with a kickass playlist

7. Get married

8. Go skinny dipping

9. Die loved

Dean hadn’t realized he was crying until a tear his list, smudging some of his handwriting. There was still so much he wanted to do, so much more he wanted to see but deep down he knew he didn’t have the time for it. Hell, he didn’t=’t even know if he had time for his list. But he was going to try. He looked back at a few items on the list and managed a small smile, so much for not being a romantic.

Dean looked up when he heard some shuffling and the opening of a door. His eyes met a sleepy Cas, with his blue eyes bleary and hair ruffled more than usual. It was a sight he could never get sick of.

“Can’t sleep?” Cas asked quietly. Dean hummed in response, struggling to get his emotions in check. He hated this vulnerability that came with the diagnosis. Making this list made him even more emotional and he knew that crying in front of Cas would only make things harder.

“Me neither,” Cas sighed, joining Dean on the couch. He leaned into his side, curling in to soak in his body heat. “I can never sleep very long without you next to me.”

Dean smiled at that and kissed Cas on the temple. Cas sighed contentedly before frowning when he saw the list in Dean’s hand. “Is that your bucket list?”

“Yeah, I figured since we have some time, we should make the most of it, you know? And there’s a lot of things I’ll never get the chance to do, so I thought I’d make a list of the ones most important to me.”

Cas gingerly grabbed the list out of his hand and read through it, a sad smile on his face. “No backpacking across Europe?”

“I don’t think there’s time for a trip to Europe,” Dean mumbled. He and Cas had dreamed of backpacking across Europe since they were in college. They talked of romantic stops in Italy for the food, France for the champagne, Ireland for the Guinness and beautiful countryside, Scotland for the scotch, and so much more. Cas just nodded in response, swallowing the lump in his throat. He didn’t want to think about the concept of time at the moment.

“What do you want to do first?” Cas asked, his voice cracking.

“Right now, all I want to do is go to bed with you.”

“Alright, then let’s go to bed,” He replied, grabbing Dean’s hand and leading him into the bedroom with a sly smile on his face.

The next morning Dean awoke with another headache. He wasn’t surprised, it’s been happening a lot more often lately. He sat up and reached for the numerous pill bottles on the table next to the bed and took the numerous pills prescribed to him by his doctors to keep his symptoms under control. Forcing his legs out from under the warmth of the blankets, Dean got up to go see what Cas was doing. While Dean has always slept later than Cas, he usually lays in bed with him reading a book while waiting for Dean to wake. After all, Cas knows how much Dean hates waking up alone.

Just as Dean was crossing the door, he was met with Cas carrying a tray full of chocolate chip pancakes, eggs, a heaping pile of bacon and his usual cup of coffee.

“Cas…” Dean started, realizing what he was doing.

“Dean! You ruined it. To have breakfast in bed, you actually need to be in bed.” He pouted which caused Dean to laugh at his boyfriend. He quickly turned around and crawled back into their bed.

“We don’t have to do everything on the list right away, angel.” He retorted, pulling the warm blankets on his lap. His voice came across softer than the joking manner he intended. His gratefulness for Cas shone through his usual sarcastic façade. Cas chose to ignore the comment and set the tray on the middle of the bed, settling next to him. “But thank you,” Dean added, giving Cas a kiss on the lips.

Cas smiled, his blue eyes impossibly bright in the early afternoon light. Dean sighed, staring as he admired Cas’s beauty. His dark hair is tousled, sticking in all directions accompanied with the stubble that comes from not shaving for a few days. He’s dressed in one of Dean’s classic rock shirts and a pair of boxers, with the smell of coffee lingering on his breath. Dean smiles at him, bacon momentarily forgotten, only consumed by thoughts of Cas. When things get bad, he wants to remember this specific moment and how happy the two of them are. ‘When things get bad…’ Dean ended that train of thought and shook himself out of his daze, turning his attention to his delicious breakfast instead.

________

A/N: Hi friends! I’m so excited to post my first Dean/Cas fanfic! I’ve written for other fandoms before but I just can’t shake the finale so here’s my coping mechanism. This fic is finished, totaling at about 15,000 words. I plan to post either weekly or twice a week, depending on the reception this gets. Please let me know any feedback or submit any prompts!

#destiel #fanfiction #deancas #supernatural fanfiction #destiel fanfiction #destiel fanfic #angst #fluff #eventual character death #dean knows how to communicate his feelings for once #dean winchester #castiel #alternate universe #chaptered

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paulwalltran · 4 years ago

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Dungeons and Dragons Loneliness

Another interview with lofi music. Today was a pretty shitty day, alot on my mind. Here to unload.

Today’s mood: Fuck it all...

It’s a mad addiction, a horrendous one. It’s all I think about, it’s all I want to talk about. Or almost anything fantasy related. I’ve recently gotten a little closer with one of my co workers. Delerner Banks, everyone calls him Del. He’s always in the tunnel, and always brings warhammer books to read and do work (whatever it is he’s working on.) We talk about fantasy related things all the time, and sometimes we bounce ideas off each other, feeling out our thoughts of settings and lore. Talking to him about some fantasy before leaving work made me feel alot better. The loneliness inside has been eating at me.

I know it’s salt, I know its jealousy, that I’m mad at my friends. They been hanging out more without me, playing cards and shit. Its not a passion of mine, its fun sometimes, but its still not me. Its what they bond over, its what they do together, and that’s what theyre into. If I had to guess, they’re okay with Dungeons and Dragons, but even my best friend said that I take it too serious. Its fallen out of their favor, it eats up a lot of time, and they each have their version of what a fun campaign would be like. In me, I said to myself, “Fine, fuck it. I’ll have to assemble another crew to play with.” Tough situation then isn’t it? Wanting to play a social game that needs bodies, during an age where social gatherings are frowned upon, because they carry a potential to spread a virus... Still, this is what I want to do. I want a group of friends, who share the same passion I do. My current friends must think ill of me, they may just want to hang out. They think that if they come hang with me, I’ll want a game of DnD without a doubt. They just want to chill and kick it, they don’t want to roll dice. But ask me once and I’ll tell you yes twice, to playing DnD.

I love it with all my heart, all of the contents and materials are here, ready to play. No extra investments, no money needed to be spent, we can get going off of nothing like we did back then. A table top roleplaying game, we started with cardboard and lego figures, and just two books to share. But there was fun to be had, and a few heated sessions. But fun it was, the more we played the deeper i grew fond of the game. I’m even willing to experiment with other systems if I have someone to guide me. With cards, you gotta constantly update your arsenal to keep up with the meta, and let’s be real, not playing anything remotely close to meta isn’t as fun. Different formats allow different decks, and to keep current you gotta keep up. I dont have the fundings for it, I dont have the luck. I would rather buy a module that’ll last for years, versus a pack of cards. I have two books that have skyrocketed in value, cards go up and down like stocks. But thats the appeal I suppose, I don’t care for it though.

Back to the thing at hand, I’m in their group chat as they make plans. I can’t be there for all that. But fuck it, that’s all Im going to say. Fuck it, on repeat, until its engraved into my head. Pride is getting the best of me, I refused to be denied again. If it’s not something they want to do, so be it, I need to look out for me in the end. I must muster up the courage to start playing online again, the first one wasn’t bad, but it fell apart. I need to get the courage to be social, and get over the fear that everyone expects you to be a pro player. I’m scared going into this green still, roll20 isn’t my forte. But if I want to play DnD, this seems to be my only option. It may fulfill my wish, to find friends who are just as passionate as I. My other friends, they’re over on the other side. Its fine, it truly is, they have one another, and I need to be strong. I need to find the strength in this loneliness, even though its tearing me apart. My circle becomes smaller, thats just the way of the world. Adapt to survive, be formless like water...

Dungeons and Dragons, my greatest escape. I can be anybody, and do things I normally can’t. I can clobber up bad guys, indecent folk, and finesse my way out of punishment from the law. I can save a village, a town, a kingdom, when I can hardly save myself. I can fly, cast spells, break locks, imagination is my only limit. I can hoard and amass vast amounts of riches, I myself can even become a dragon. I don’t have to be me, although a bit of me resides in everyone I’ve made before. I can never truly separate myself, from those Ive breathed life into. For hours on end, I can go anywhere, do anything, I melt into the world thats placed before me.

Because the reality is that I’m practically shit, and nobody. The world is fucked up and jacked up and spiraling down the drain. I’m mentally fucked and my physicality is pretty much the same. I’m stuck in place when the world is demanding me to change. I lost with no real direction. No map in hand, no guide, and I’m scared out of my mind. I don’t know whether to trust the process or commit suicide. Im not sure where I’ll end up, if it’s good or bad. Im struggling, I’m suffering, and there seems to be no end. I could say I’m trying, but I would be lying, if I had to look at the brighter side. The positive things in life are so hard to identify. But my emotions are raw and hit hard, slamming against the walls in my skull. Demanding me to give them attention...and attention I give them, as they tear me up. Like being pulled at by the limbs, drawn and quartered is the method it seems like today. I was thinking that I couldn’t drink forever, my body would eventually reject. But what if I drank energy drinks on end, a heart attack to get me out of this place. I can down those all day long, so whats stopping me from taking that way out of it? Less grotesque and violent, it’ll probably be painful as hell. An organ seizing up, as the body ceases the function. I get said thinking about it sometimes, but one day, enough will be enough. But damn that lady...damn her for speaking those words... Tomorrow. If nothing is better by tomorrow, then do as you may. But sleep it off, tomorrow is another day.

It’s not verbatim, but its the gist. Just wait for tomorrow, and hopefully things will change. The choice is still mine to make, and something in me pushes me forward, keeps me going on. Sometimes I think about who I’m leaving behind, and maybe how much it’ll hurt. The evil darkness inside me says that they’ll get over it, they have to, and time doesn’t wait. I won’t be immortalized, I’ll simply end up a statistic. That maybe itll be a few years the sadness remains fresh, but wounds always heal. Discrediting my actual existence, and any form of relations. Like I wouldn’t have made any actual impressions, people don’t weep for me now. People kind of forget I exist already, what makes me think they won’t after I’m gone?

I think about my folks, my grandma, my girlfriend, my second family, and other close dear friends. I think about how many last will letters I would have to put out there, before I call for the curtains. Sometimes, I say I will start writing them, but they give me pause. I end up not wanting to leave this world, after pouring out my heart. Because I don’t want to leave any questions behind for people who matter, I want them to know how I felt before I passed. I want to leave with them apart of me, so they would never forget.

Still it doesn’t change, shit is rough as of lately, work has been eating me up. I feel like Im never hundred percent, and me back on gaming is making it worst. I’ve gotten back onto Elder Scrolls Skyrim, its been my virtual version of DnD. Waiting for the Outer World Expansion, so I can get addicted to that again. All I want to do is play Dungeons and Dragons, the question is how do I make that into a living? I think being a Matthew Mercer is one in a million, I don’t think I’m that great. I’m willing to learn, grow, evolve because it is my passion, but I’m always scared of making mistakes. To be one of the greater Dungeon Masters, to be THE Wizards of the Coast Dungeon Master, it may possibly be the dream. To eat, sleep, breathe, Dee en Dee. My obsession isn’t that crazy though, I’m still behind on the lore of creatures and settings, I haven’t studied at all. But with the right drive and motivation, I would, especially with something as real as a legit group.

Enthusiastic players, who show up every week, bi weekly, once every month even, to play this fantastic game. Group of chill folks who is willing to take the Dungeon Master Mantle with I get burned out and have the desire to be in the player seat. One of those is the driving force, they make me want to plan. They make me want to make the world, the style, everything in general better, with the constructive feedback. I mean it’s been so long as I was a player in a campaign until the end, I’m beginning to think paying for a Dungeon Master wouldn’t be so bad. Once a month? A couple of hours? I mean I’m thinking like seven USD per hour? Eight isn’t bad, but after that it becomes a questionable amount. It repeats in my head, “No DnD is better than Bad DnD”, this much is probably still true. I say still because I still might want at least one session with said game, so I can at least say it was the worst after having attempt it, rolling something. Ha ha, I kid myself, I’m lying because I know the rage would be all to real and caution is my game most of the time. But I mean, I just might have to start exploring the idea, I was definitely going to ask on FaceBook if any Roll20 games was recruiting a newbie.

Alas, today won’t be the last time I speak on the matter, Dungeons and Dragons haunt me everyday. I stare at minis, I stare at the upcoming books and modules, and I watch youtube where they tell RPG Horror Stories, Its become a huge part of my life, such as dancing once was. It almost links right into my earliest talents...writing. I love to write, just like I’m doing now. Im fairly decent at the writing game if I must say. Hey, real life failed Bard here, I should make one who always ends up playing big bro, and end up being friendzoned by all his interests. Im short, so Halfling is very true. Am I charismatic? Who knows, I can’t say for sure. But yes, I feel like this is what I need, a solid weekly game, maybe once every two weeks, hell, once every month would still be great. Something to look forward to the very least, in this life of routine and mundane. Something to look forward to for me, something that’s my own. Something I don’t need my closer friends to be apart of, since they’re not interested anyhow. I’m really talking shit because I’m hella salty, but at least I’m being upfront. Get it all out now, before the typing is done.

It’s been a productive session, I may have to attribute it to Lofi it seems. The Lofi Hip Hop Radio on YouTube, also found on Spotify. Some tracks still strike me deep in the chest, giving me horrible flash backs and feeling in my chest. Others keep me going, forward, almost propelling. I’m currently training myself to be accustomed to the sounds, because I at first was very scared. That it would just transport me to a dark place and keep me there. I’ve been trying to confront my feelings more with this music, I think I felt better after last session like this. The more I faced myself, the better I became. Yes, I most definitely referenced Persona 4, another amazing and loved title because of the message it portrays. I always wondered what my shadow self would look like, and what they would say. But eh another time, I’m about to start rambling again. I have to conclude here, before I get off topic.

Until next time Tumblr...

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somethingjustsouthofbrilliance · 5 years ago

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Heartsick (chapter 3)

@tonystark5ever and I are back with a new chapter. Finally. Progress :D

Tagging a few folks here. If I forgot somebody, pls, let me know.

@i-fucking-love-the-avengers @random-fandom-stuffdom @keltainen13 @giulisetta @bad-days-and-beautiful-nights @ashleymarie1684 @itsafandomaddict @konoriart @swanheart69 @almhw85

Link to chapter 1 (masterlist)

---------------------------

Chapter Three

“Dr. Rhodes?”

A young voice, quiet and unsure, pulls his attention away from Stark’s retreating back, stopping short his intention to follow after the man.

He turns, frowning slightly at the skinny, curly-haired teen that stands behind him, fiddling nervously with the line of his IV pole.

“I’m… I’m… I’m Peter. Peter Parker.”

Rhodey feels his lips twitch into a smile despite his unpleasant mood. “Ah, yes, Mr. Parker. I had the pleasure of listening to you play just now.” He nods toward the room the teen has recently vacated. “Very impressive.” And it had been, the bit he’d heard.

His grin widens as the teen ducks his head at the praise, the tips of his ears flushing pink. Adorable, Rhodey thinks, amused, and feels the uncomfortable sting of anger at the idea of Tony Stark doing anything that might put the kid in harm’s way. “What can I do for you?”

“I...uh….” Peter starts fidgeting with the IV pole again; throws a hesitant glance at Rhodey’s face. “I heard your argument with Mr. Stark just now and…”

“I see.” His mood sours instantly; Tony Stark is the last thing he wants to talk about with this kid. He frowns, waiting for the boy to continue with whatever was on his mind.

“You need to get him to hire you back!”

The unexpected nature of the request and the heat of the conviction behind it bring him up short.

“What?”

“I… I mean….” Peter takes a step back, flustered, his gaze dropping back down to the floor. “Mr. Stark, he’s… he’s a really good guy. He… he takes care of everyone around him, but he doesn’t really… he doesn’t let others take care of him.” The kid looks up again, brown eyes intent. “And he needs to,” he insists heatedly. “Especially now. His heart-”

“You’re defending him…” Rhodey can’t quite hide the incredulity coloring his voice. “Even after what he’s done to you. Taking your place in line?” he adds at the puzzled expression on Peter’s face.

The teen’s expression darkens, his large brown eyes hardening in clear disapproval. “That was my decision,” he says mulishly. “Mine and my aunt’s. We came to Ms. Potts when we found out from Tony that things were getting worse. We made her agree not to tell him, as a matter of patient confidentiality. He was never supposed to find out about it.”

“Is that so?” Somehow Rhodey had assumed that Peter and his aunt had been kept in the dark. The fact the kid knew about it almost made it worse. “And why is that?”

“Because he never would have allowed it if he knew.” Peter shakes his head, heaving out a dejected sigh before he plops tiredly onto the nearby bench. “I just wanted to help him. I wanted… and now, because it’s me, because he knows it’s me, he won’t…” The teen trails off, eyes momentarily squeezed shut; wraps his fingers around the IV pole in a white-knuckled grip. When he looks up again, the desperate intensity of his stare nearly forces Rhodey to take a step back.

“I wouldn’t even have a place in line if it weren’t for Mr. Stark. He is the reason I have a chance to live, Dr. Rhodes! And I… I can’t be the reason he loses his!”

And that right there? Definitely not what Rhodey was expecting to hear. He frowns down at the earnest, wide-eyed gaze that meets his; bites his lip at the guilt-tinged despair he sees there.

“Alright, kid.” He knows he’s already given in; doubts there’s anyone alive out there who can stay strong in the face of these imploring puppy eyes. He just really hopes he doesn’t come to regret this later. “There’s a couple things I need to get straight, and I think you’re the one to help me.”

“What do you mean?”

“How about you tell me all about Tony Stark over a cup of hot cocoa, huh? Start with why you think you owe him your place on the organ recipient list.”

Peter watches him silently for a few moments, his expression wary. Nods, his curls flopping over his forehead. “Okay.”

***

They settle on a bench outside some ten minutes later, Peter cradling a cup of chocolate ice cream he opted for instead of hot cocoa. It’s nice and quiet out here, the air pleasant, tinged with a mild spring morning chill, and Rhodey finds himself relaxing just a bit, letting go of the angry tension he’d been carrying around since daybreak.

“Thanks Dr. Rhodes,” Peter speaks up beside him, poking hesitantly at the mound of chocolate in his cup. “Dr. Banner told me to try and beef up my calorie intake since I can’t eat much.”

“Well, I hope you enjoy it,” Rhodey responds, smiling encouragingly as the teen scoops up his first spoonful. Urges mildly, “Whenever you’re ready, Peter.” He doesn’t want to push the boy, but time isn’t exactly a luxury he has to waste.

Peter’s expression darkens, the second spoonful dropped half-heartedly back into the cup. “I’m… I’m not supposed to tell anyone about this. I could get in big trouble, but even worse Mr. Stark could get in big trouble. I had to sign some huge non-disclosure agreements, there were lawyers there and everything, it was crazy. If anyone ever found out I told you, then they could sue Mr. Stark and he could even go to jail.” He shoots Rhodey a slightly anxious, pleading look. “So… you… you won’t tell anyone, right Dr. Rhodes?”

“I won’t tell anyone,” Rhodey agrees, his curiosity piqued.

“No, no, I need-- you have to understand. No one can know.”

“Peter. I promise. On my word as a doctor, doctor-patient confidentiality, do no harm, Hippocratic oath. I won’t tell anyone.”

This seems finally enough to reassure Peter and he leans forward, a frown of worry on his face that speaks of a lot of fear and anxiety… more than he would expect for one so young. “Okay, well. It all happened about two years ago. The hospital was losing money, all the political stuff going on right? So they hired a consulting company to come and make it profitable again. You have to understand, there were talks of closing the doors.”

“Right,” Rhodey nods his understanding. He’s not surprised, even given the hospital’s reputation for excellent care; healthcare in general was facing a major crisis and there were systems all over the world taking the same kind of steps in order to keep their doors open.

“So the first thing they do is fire all the administrative people here,” Peter goes on, ice cream forgotten. “Let them go with severance only. I remember it a little bit because the nurses and doctors were in a huge uproar about it, it wasn’t pretty.”

“I’ll bet!”

“Well yeah. So they hire this new guy, Thaddeus Ross.”

Somehow Rhodey thinks the shudder that goes through Peter at the mention of that name has little to do with the morning chill.

“Ross… Yeah, I’ve heard of him. He did some great things for that hospital system in Orlando.”

Peter scoffs. “Wherever you heard about that, I’ll bet it didn’t mention a body count,” he counters darkly.

“No… it didn’t as a matter of fact.”

“Well, I can practically guarantee you that there was one. Because Ross doesn’t come in and fix things, he comes in and he cuts corners. First thing he did after firing the administrators was fire all the experienced nurses and techs. Forced some of the higher paid doctors into early retirement -- claimed their judgement would be called into question and their malpractice insurance would go up, that kind of thing.”

“Peter,” Rhodey cuts in, trying, rather unsuccessfully, to keep the skepticism from his voice, “even if that were true, how could you possibly know about it?”

“Because I’m one of the schmucks that almost got killed!”

“Oh…” He pulls back, stunned silent by the teen’s outburst. Motions for him to continue.

Peter nods grudgingly, huddles in on himself. “I was born with hypoplastic left heart syndrome and had, like, three surgeries when I was a baby and all that. I was doing good, real good, until a year ago I got bit by a spider. So like, not normally a big deal, but for me it was. I got super sick. But Dr. Banner… he’s my cardiologist, right? He found a treatment, and it seemed like a miracle because there was nothing anyone else could do. I mean… it was a miracle. Only the drug I was on was crazy expensive, like $20,000 a dose.”

Rhodey lets out a low whistle and Peter huffs angrily in response.

“I have to take it every three months for three years,” he says, nodding toward his IV bag. “Obviously, there was no way for us to afford it. Our insurance wouldn’t cover it because it’s technically not even approved by the FDA. So the hospital was writing it off. You know. They were using it as a charitable donation, which means it technically doesn’t cost them anything because they get the money back in tax credits and government payouts. Only...” Peter falters, a muscle in his jaw twitching. “Only they weren’t making money off it.” He gives a vicious stab at his now mostly-melted ice cream before hurling the cup into the garbage can with a bit more energy than was strictly necessary.

“Right.” Rhodey can already see where this is heading, and he feels his own fingers itch with the urge to curl into fists. Money. Of course. Of-fucking course! Everything always comes back to money. It was one of the reasons why he’d gone into medicine, to do something about this kind of thing, to do surgery for the right reasons and not to make a buck.

“Yeah! Right!!” The teen slaps his hand palm down on the bench, agitated. “I mean, can you believe I had the audacity to exist and want to live and not have a disease that the hospital could benefit from? Ross came through and he eliminated most of those programs. The ones that helped people.”

“Why don’t people know about it?” Rhodey interjects. “Why wasn’t any of this on the news?”

“Oh it was.” The sharp bitterness in the teen’s voice surprises Rhodey. For as broken, small, and sick as the kid appeared, he had clearly developed quite the backbone. “The headlines were ‘Local CEO Turns Failing Local Hospital into Model of Health Care Efficiency.’ He’s a jerk but he’s not an idiot! Dr. Banner did what he could but they were threatening his license. There were a couple of assault charges thrown around when Dr. Banner got really mad during a meeting and punched the guy. Satisfying, right? Except now he was suspended and I was getting sicker and sicker because no medicine. And this is the only pediatric cardiac hospital in three states that’s able to deal with my problems. We were looking at moving to Colorado but I was too sick and May, my aunt, had been out of work to take care of me so no money. I was…”

There’s a suspicious hitch in the teen’s voice, his breath coming a little harsh, a little fast. He shakes his head viciously, swipes irritably at his cheeks where thin trails of tears cut a path across anger-flushed skin.

“I was so tired,” he admits in a whisper, “I wished I could just die and get it over with!”

“Okay,” Rhodey exhales past the stunned horror of the teen’s admission, “okay.” Reaches out haltingly to put a soothing a hand on the kid’s trembling shoulder. “Do you… uh… do you need a break from this?”

“No.” It takes him a few moments, but Peter swallows down his emotions; manages to steady himself. “Sorry. It was just… it was hard. I hated it. I was sick and things were getting so much worse. It was hard to see these things taking their toll on May.”

Rhodey gives the boy’s shoulder one last squeeze before letting his hand fall away. “I imagine she must have been pretty upset.”

“Upset doesn’t even begin to describe it,” Peter scoffs. “She was furious. And she wasn’t taking it sitting down either. She was calling our legislators, trying to see about the legalities, but we weren’t having any luck. She tried to go after him directly, you know, suing him for medical malpractice. Failure to treat. Medical neglect.” He shrugs, exhaustion written into every line of his body.

“Like I said, it got ugly. And here I am… dying because my heart is failing, and I get sick on top of it and it’s looking like the end for me. They start talking about hospice and making me comfortable, but I’m in the ICU in the meantime…”

“What happened?” Rhodey prods cautiously, afraid to push too hard because the kid is a walking war wound and it feels like even the slightest amount of pressure could cause him to bleed out.

Peter blinks as though coming out of a trance, his expression softening, pale lips pulling into a small smile. “Tony Stark happened,” he murmurs, sounding simultaneously awed and fond. “He got admitted the same time as me, just on the adult side, and he was being monitored because he was on some weird drug that was giving him trouble, but he was not so sick as me. He bumped into May in the hallway one time, and they got to know each other a bit. They had a lot in common, you know? Going through all this. Tony, see, he wanted to help, he offered to pay for everything. And May, she was real thankful and she wanted to take him up on it, but the thing is? Ross could just turn around and do it again to some other kid and their family. May said if it happened again it was because of them not fighting so she wanted to keep pushing on.”

Rhodey shakes his head, a bit conflicted. On the one hand there’s an already familiar flare of annoyance at Tony Stark, whose answer to everything seems to be to throw money at it. Yet on the other - it was a hell of a thing for him to offer to do for someone he had just met.

He also can’t help but admire May Parker’s bravery and tenacity. To go up against the hospital with all of its money and its fancy lawyers all on her own? That took guts.

“One night, Ross himself comes by and says he has a court order to withdraw treatment on my case.”

Lost in thought, it takes Rhodey a moment to realize that the kid is talking again, and once the actual meaning of the words registers, he feels himself grow cold all over. “What??”

“Yeah.” Peter swallows hard several times, a bitter smile twisting his lips. “See… what he’s done is… he’s accused May of child abuse. For doing all these expensive treatments and prolonging my life. He got all these doctors to say that it wasn’t in my best interest, it was causing pain and suffering. He had all these records that showed it was harming me and wouldn’t save my life in the end and he said a third party should be asked to make medical decisions on my behalf. Basically, Ross made it so the government had medical decision-making power over my course of treatment.”

Rhodey sits back, stunned silent once again. He knows there are certain laws for that kind of thing, but they are meant to protect kids from abusive parents, who use medical diagnosis to harm their kids-- Munchausen by Proxy, that kind of thing. He can’t believe anyone would do what Peter’s describing. It’s… it’s... unconscionable!

“Ross and May get into a big fight, and May… she’s in tears, alright? I hadn’t seen her like that since my uncle died. She starts pleading with him. Promises to back down if Ross doesn’t withdraw treatment. Says she’ll stop the lawsuits and the push to get the laws changed - drop the whole thing just… just to keep me going.” Peter grits his teeth, his breath hitching once again. “Ross was in my room, see,” he continues, voice tight with barely controlled emotions. “He didn’t want anyone witnessing what he was doing, and he’s right in her face, laughing at her tears. And I’m… I’m just lying there like a rag doll, useless!”

Peter’s face screws up as if in pain, eyes squeezing shut, and Rhodey can’t help reaching for the teen once more; lays a gentle hand on his back. Peter nods in mute thanks; breathes, slow and deep, in an attempt to calm down, in and out, in and out.

“And then Mr. Stark walks into the room, out of nowhere,” he continues, hoarse, “with like three lawyers in tow. I don’t know who called him or how he got there so fast, I don’t know any of that. He’s just there, looking like a king even in a hospital gown, you know? The lawyers, they’re talking fast, serving Ross with all kinds of notices and cease and desist orders, and there’s even…”

Peter’s voice chokes up a little, and he fists his hands around the edge of the bench, white-knuckled fingers digging in.

“There’s even a restraining order, so he has to leave us alone. He can’t say anything to May or me, not ever again. And he never… he never does. Ross never has talked to us again. And I start getting my medicine. Because of how sick I got without the medicine, I was moved way up on the list, but then thanks to Mr. Stark, I’m okay now. I’m good to wait. It’s actually good for me to wait, to get stronger, let this medicine heal my body.”

He turns, his gaze boring into Rhodey, intent, pleading. “But Mr. Stark, he… Dr. Rhodes, he can’t wait anymore. He passes the rope again, he, maybe, won’t be around when a chance comes back up again. That’s why… that’s why we went to Ms. Potts about giving him my spot.”

Rhodey nods grimly, digesting that information. “What about Dr. Hammer?” he wants to know. “He did the surgery on Mr. Stark, didn’t he? How did that--”

He trails off, taken aback by the abrupt shift in the teen’s expression. Peter’s whole face darkens, lips twisting into an ugly, bitter grimace.

“Hammer’s a hack,” he spits out with such venom that it leaves Rhodey gaping at him in frank surprise. “He botched that surgery. On purpose probably, too, I’m willing to bet!”

“Come on, Peter…” Rhodey shakes his head in disbelief, because an accusation like that? It’s utterly ridiculous!

“Ross threatened Mr. Stark, did I tell you that?” the teen cuts in as though Rhodey hasn’t spoken. “When they were arguing in my room, when Mr. Stark told him to get out? Just before he left, he pinned Mr. Stark against the wall and he told him, told him Mr. Stark would regret doing this. And you know what the last thing he did before leaving the hospital for good?”

“He assigned Dr. Hammer to do the surgery,” Rhodey guesses, feeling a horrible numbness spread forth within his chest. “But… why?”

“Hammer’s a butcher,” Peter sneers, voice dark with resentment, “everyone knows that. He only ever got to be a surgeon thanks to his daddy’s money and Ross’s influence. He never should have… he never should have gone anywhere near Mr. Stark.”

“He… I heard the nurses talk after. Hammer ignored the warning on Mr. Stark’s chart; gave him a drug that should never have been combined with the medicine Mr. Stark was taking. Nearly killed him right on the operating table. It’s what… it’s what’s killing him now!”

The teen grits his teeth; drops his gaze to where his hands are clasped impossibly tight in his lap. “I visited him the day after his surgery. He looked… he… I’ve never seen him look so bad. Like… like death. And he was in pain. He was trying to hide it, but I could tell.” He looks up again, his face twisting in anguish. “He’s dying, Dr. Rhodes. And there’s no one who can help him but you. Miss Potts, she told me, she said you’re the best in the field. That’s why I told her to take my spot, so you could… so you could save him. And then I hear he fired you, Dr. Rhodes, and I don’t… I don’t know what to do.”

He looks at Rhodey with such raw, open worry that Rhodey wonders if he’s ever felt worse in his entire life, as if he’d kicked a puppy or pulled the wings off a butterfly. Killed a mockingbird, all that. Guilt and shame spread through his chest with hot prickles, as well as a burgeoning fear that he’d done something irrevocably foolish. He’d just thrown away the one chance he had to save someone… someone who is, despite what he’s been initially led to believe, utterly worth saving.

At the same time, he’s not sure how much he can rely on the opinion of a child, much less one so obviously emotionally compromised. There’s a chance that Stark had manipulated him, he hates to think it but it is a fact. People do... desperate things when they are desperate.

But Peter seems so damned earnest.

“Peter. I… I didn’t know any of that,” he manages finally -- as close to “I’m sorry” as he can get.

Peter nods gravely, brown eyes boring into Rhodey’s, dark, urgent. “I know, sir. I know. But… the thing is. Now you do. So what are you going to do about it?”

***

He doesn’t mean to eavesdrop, he really doesn’t. He went looking for Pepper after he dropped the Parker kid back in his room, and he will honestly blame his conversation with the teen - the conversation that left him so thoroughly shaken and off his game that he doesn’t become aware of his surroundings until he nearly collides with a group of interns that huddle in an oddly conspiratorial-looking clique in the middle of the hallway in front of Pepper’s office. It is only then that he snaps back to the here and now. It is only then that he becomes aware of the raised voices coming from behind the closed office door, and of the awkward glances the interns are throwing each other as they wait for Rhodey’s reaction.

“I refuse to allow it, Tony!” Pepper’s voice rages from behind closed doors, and Rhodey can see through the haphazardly open blinds as she paces angrily in her spacious office. “I can have you blue slipped!”

“A psychiatric hold, really?” Stark sounds peeved, his temper from earlier having escalated even further. “Don’t think I won’t sue you if you pull that crap, Potts! My lawyers are faster and smarter than your corporate lackeys. I’m not your hostage or your science experiment and you agreed, you agreed! I say when I’m done. And I’m done!”

“Well I take it back! You can’t do this! I won’t let you!”

Pepper is shouting now, her voice - a heart-rending mix of anger and despair, and Rhodey doesn’t even have to pretend not to overhear them now. Everyone in the vicinity can hear their argument, and the interns once again begin talking in low voices to each other, flicking awkward glances in the direction of the office.

Rhodey has had enough. Calling on his most authoritative tone, he shoos the interns back to work. Waits a few beats as he watches them disperse, chastised, and then marches determinedly toward the office, trying his best to ignore the angry rise of Stark’s voice.

His ears register an abrupt, almost choked-off cessation of Stark’s response just as his fingers curl around the door handle, followed by a clatter of office supplies being knocked off the desk and a heavy thud of a body hitting the ground. Alarmed now, he yanks open the door and freezes, just out of their line of sight, struck momentarily dumb by the scene that opens before him.

Stark sits on the floor, slumped gracelessly against the desk, his legs splayed out before him. His eyes are closed, ashen face pinched in pain, his trembling left hand tugging unsuccessfully at something inside the pocket of his pajama pants.

Pepper is kneeling before him, wide-eyed and almost as alarmingly pale as Stark himself, one hand resting on his rapidly heaving chest, the other gently pushing Stark’s hand out of the way to take out what the former has been so desperately trying to reach.

A bottle of pills.

Odd, Rhodey thinks, squinting as he tries to make out the label. Because he doesn’t remember seeing any mention of any specific pills in Stark’s chart. And yet...

“How many of these did you take? Tony? How many?” The undeniable urgency in Pepper’s voice cuts off his train of thought, and Rhodey notes the undisguised worry on his boss’s face.

“Three,” Stark huffs out, barely audible, eyes still stubbornly closed.

Pepper pulls back, lips pressed together into a thin white line, the bottle clasped tight within her trembling fingers.

“You know that's not safe,” she says finally, sounding like she’s pleading with Stark. “You know they're just supposed to give you time. They’re not a cure! Tony, these damage your heart if you take them too often, you know this! You know--”

“Yeah,” he cuts her off abruptly, pain-glazed brown eyes sliding open to stare back at her with tired defiance. “Yeah, I do know Pepper. I’m the one who helped develop the damn things. Mixing Palladium and Epinephrine, not in the usual bag of tricks. So yeah. I know.” He nods weakly to the bottle almost completely hidden within her crushing grip. “I need one now, though. Please.”

She watches him a heartbeat longer; sucks in a quick, shuddered breath. “Okay,” she concedes finally, carefully jiggling one out into her hand. “Okay, Tony, you win.”

Dejectedly she hands the pill over to him; stretches to get a bottle of water from her desk, while he pops the pill into his mouth. Reaches out to support him as he drinks, washing down the pill. It takes another few minutes before he nods to her, shifting as though to get up, and she helps pull him to standing, careful, anxious, her hands lingering on his shoulder, as if unable or unwilling to let go.

“Please, Tony, please promise me you won’t take any more of these today,” she pleads, and there’s an uncharacteristically vulnerable note in her voice, one Rhodey has never heard before. “Just… just give me some time, I’ll sort this out somehow--”

Stark smiles in response, weary and almost apologetic. Leans in to place a soft kiss on her cheek.

“Okay. Time. Sure,” he agrees placatingly. “All I got is time, Pep, you can take all of it you need to.”

The words sound wrong somehow, coming out of his mouth, like their meaning is different, like Stark is saying goodbye. And Pepper must sense the same thing, for Rhodey sees her open her mouth in protest…

Stark shakes his head, presses a gentle finger against her lips, silencing her. “We both knew it was a long shot, Pep. Part of the journey is the end, all that; I've been on borrowed time, I'm not about to borrow any of Peter's. We knew this doctor was a hail mary and it didn't work out. Let me leave, Pep. Okay? Just for a little bit. I'll see you soon.”

Rhodey doesn’t stay to hear her response. Steps back outside, letting the door close softly behind him. Mere moments later the door creaks open again, and Stark walks out, shuffling slowly toward the elevators. Rhodey watches him go, wondering briefly if he should go after him and stop him. But there are things about him he still feels he needs to know, needs to understand. So after a moment of hesitation he turns on his heel and pushes his way back into Pepper’s office before he can change his mind once more.

***

He finds Pepper seated back at her desk, face buried in her hands, shoulders trembling ever so slightly. It’s an uncomfortable sight, to be sure, and he has half a mind to tuck tail and run, but she raises her head just then, a pair of tear-filled blue eyes pinning him firmly in place.

“Dr. Rhodes.” She straightens out, a professional mask slamming back into place. “What can I do for you?”

And he flinches despite himself. Because this is Pepper. He’s known her for years, been a close colleague of hers for years. And he has been “Jim” or “Rhodey” to her for nearly as long. But the look in her eyes now is cold as ice - the same look he’s seen her level at those who dared cross her, and he finds it frankly terrifying to be on the receiving end of it.

Though, to be fair, he supposes he deserves it.

“I… I formed an opinion about a man based on the word of someone I don’t respect as a surgeon and barely tolerate as a human being,” he begins carefully, stepping closer to her desk, gauging her reaction. “What I have seen until recently seemed to have confirmed that opinion for me. And yet…”

“And yet?” Pepper prods, blue eyes narrowing in silent warning.

“I can’t help feeling that I’ve missed something,” he admits. “A couple people pointed out to me that maybe I was wrong in my initial assessment. That… that I should get a second opinion.”

He takes a deep breath, trying his best not to fidget under her steely glare. Squares his jaw in quiet resolution.

“So this is me,” he finishes softly, spreading his arms out to the sides, “asking for that second opinion.”

TBC

#ironhusbands #ironhusbands au #tony stark #james rhodey rhodes #doctor/patient au #hurt/comfort #angst #pepper potts #peter parker #co-authored work #tonystark5ever #somethingjustsouthofbrilliance writes

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ghoulstars · 6 years ago

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im only posting this bc i desperately need to exorcise this thought somewhere bc it wont fucking leave me alone

those of you who know me personally or follow my instagram know about this but for those of you who dont: in a horrible turn of events, our plan to put down our geriatric yellow labrador retriever dixie was unfortunately and unexpectedly doubled today to having to put down our 3 year old engam bulldog, bean, as well

when we got him in mid december, 2015 he was barely out of puppyhood, we found him wandering around near the highway at our local gas station with a collar and no tag, trying to jump into two out-of-towner girls’ car. my stepdad intervened bc they couldnt take bean with them obviously, and brought him home instead.

we put up lost dog flyers everywhere all over our very small city, in an attempt to maybe see if someone would indeed come forward for their dog. we knew he wasnt just a stray because of his collar.

almost right off the bat, we were told by a woman who worked at the gas station that there was a man who lived in the trailer park just across the road, located behind the pancake diner. you can see it from the gas station parking lot. she told us that he had a lot of dogs that he typically kept chained up outside in poor conditions, and beat them regularly. to us? it seemed totally reasonable that that must’ve been where bean came from, given the fact he was a dog and we found him literally less than 50 feet away from where this fucking man lived.

no one came forward to claim bean. we kept those flyers up for months, we only put them up to begin with knowing he may have been thrown out by (or escaped from) this disgusting man just because there was the possibility that it wasn’t his dog, but someone else’s. as well as the potential for legal intervention if this fabled abuser found out we had technically stolen his dog (and full disclosure, fuck him for what he does, i hope all his dogs get stolen like they need to be, i myself was not fond of the idea of just giving the dog back to this creep if he was indeed the owner but i was only 16 at the time so there wasnt much i could do)

with no one claiming bean, after those months passed, we decided that he was ours now. flyers were taken down, we gave him his collar and nametag, to be real he’d already been named by us in the first few days we had him. he was going to be ours no matter what; my mother always told me its a rule that if you name a stray, and do it quick before anyone can object to keeping it, it’s yours now. that’s your pet, with it’s new name.

so we carried on with our lives, now having not just one dog, but two. it was a bit iffy with my stepfather keeping bean since we didnt technically need to manage two dogs at the time, but we still did it anyways because we loved him, the little bean man.

but here’s where my problem lies and this is why im writing this now: as time went on and we continued to have bean as our pet, some stuff about the original suggestion that he belonged to an abusive older man who lived in close proximity to where we found bean wasnt adding up

due to dixie’s failing body, she would sometimes lose control of her bowels inside the house, which was becoming unacceptable when she stayed in overnight. so, she stayed outside. she and bean bonded, so they stayed outside together too. (and for clarity here, i know what some of you might want to say, but we knew very early on that bulldogs do not do well with heat or isolation. we also know that dixie probably shouldve been put down years ago, but here’s the trouble: my stepfather would not let us euthanize her. she is his dog technically, and the thought hurt him so much that he would not agree to it for YEARS. dixie and bean were too attached to separate them for long periods of time like they would be if we kept bean inside mostly and her outside mostly; that would’ve been cruel in its own special way. we put pools out for bean and visited with both dogs for as much as we could outside, bathed them, put fans out for them in the summer. our only option to give bean the main love and care he needed was, and of course we had other reasons to do this, to put dixie down, which was where we thought we were finally going to be by tomorrow, but thats not what happened, as you can tell)

as to be expected, bean sometimes found his way inside, mostly by applying his american bulldog traits to memorizing when unfamiliar guests would come over and bolt in the house. he did this enough times and very recently we were letting him stay inside instead of taking him back out, and all of these experiences combined, we noticed something: bean was housebroken. he was out of practice with it, and did not know very well how to communicate that he needed to go outside to use the bathroom, but he did know what to do. he would run to the door if he had to go, not always making it, but still, he was housebroken. he only marked furniture once while inside, in his entire lifespan thus far. that was a red flag to us, but especially my mother, who realized this skill of beans directly contradicted the statement that he was probably kept outside, chained up, starved, and beaten by the trailer park guy. not to mention, bean came to us in nearly perfect condition to begin with, just skinny. no patches of fur gone, he was the opposite of skittish and aggressive, no bruises, nothing. just a loving, bouncy, stupid bulldog mix

this, im not sure if im correct about this, but it stands out enough to me that i feel its worth mentioning: bean is not a mutt of any kind, and his breed contradicts those types of breeds most people who abuse animals come to own; usually large breeds, breeds inaccurately known for aggression, and breeds used by abusers to make aggressive bc they know the fighting power of these dogs (pitbulls, american bulldogs, etc). bean is an engam bulldog (english/american mix), which is a very obscure mixed breed dog to begin with and especially obscure where i live, and as we all know english bulldogs are short, stout, fat little things that can basically do no harm whatsoever. they also have a history of inbreeding to look how they do. i know this man may have just seen ‘bulldog’ and snagged him thinking he’d be aggressive, but that does not sit right with me for two other reasons: bean’s conformation (body structure) and coloration. there is nothing about bean that suggests he was bred to be used for fighting, or that he’s a true mutt, or anything of the sort. his body type literally resembles that of show dogs, and his fur coloration is highly unusual because he’s blue. obviously not literally blue but the type of blue-grey you can find in animals, typically seen in cats. bean’s coloration is almost NEVER found in ANY breed of bulldog, it is INCREDIBLY rare that he looks like this. his condition in which we found him, his housebrokenness, his color and his body formation lead, in me and my family’s opinion, to an alternative opinion: he belonged to someone that got him because they wanted a dog as a pet, not to beat, and they either bred him themselves or bought him (probably from a pet store or breeder) for his color and conformation.

but why would they dump a dog this valuable? my mom said this to me earlier, sobbing after she returned from the vet today, and this is my whole reason for writing this insane fucking novel of a post: whoever dumped bean threw out a sick puppy, and on purpose.

bean hasnt been injured or contracted an unvaccinated illness or anything like that. he had been experiencing extreme stomach distension for the past month, whereas he was losing weight everywhere else on his body. he had also been vomiting. but he wasnt depressed, or lethargic. maybe his personality was a little off but not so much it was horribly noticeable, and at that, he was still eating regularly everyday. we came to the conclusion he had parasites, though ive always been terrified something more serious was going on (i dont get listened to though).

as it turns out, i was right. mom took him in today, the day before dixie was set to be put down, for his deworming pills. what she got instead was a diagnosis of possible lung cancer. his blood work was normal, which is unusual in animals with cancer, but he still had nodules on his lungs that highly resembled cancer. his heart was also severely enlarged due to heartworms, and his stomach was so distended because it was full of fluid and blood. they did send his blood off for labs, but even if his lungs were fine, he was going to die anyway (they got a second opinion from another practice and they also agree it was probably cancerous). he has a 15% survival rate for only the very first heartworm treatment, which will cost $500. nothing lives very long with an enlarged heart to begin with. we don’t have that money, and for a treatment that will definitely kill him? i dont even know why he has so much blood and fluid in his digestive tract. bean, a dog who is only 3 or 4 years old, has an enlarged heart, lung tumors and fluid/blood all in his abdomen. the vet was apparently stunned that a dog this young could have this many potentially (and one definitely) fatal health problem(s).

i now fully believe that whoever owned him before knew he had all these issues, or that he was going to develop them. i think it makes sense. i also think they’re cheap, cruel fucks who didnt want to shell out that much money to take care of him, or pay to take him to a shelter/sanctuary, and so what did they do? they did what many people these days very regularly do when their new pet has become undesirable: they fucking dumped him on the side of the road and booked it. took his nametag off and everything, to make him look like a stray. they left him for some well meaning, animal loving family like mine to find him, not know anything about these preexisting health issues, and assume he’s healthy enough; maybe just needs a few more vaccinations and a worm and flea treatment. he showed no signs of lung cancer or heart problems in all his life up until this past month, and he’s still so young. i will even go as far as to say that he himself may be severely inbred, which could be the cause of these health issues. given his specific posture and color, and that he’s a bulldog, it’d make sense. it seems like he came from some kind of breeder to begin with anyway.

so now that ive said that and got it all out of the way, i want to leave an open letter to the hypothetical cunt that did this to us and bean:

i hope god fucking strikes you down where you stand. i hope every single day of your miserable fucking life, you think about where he ended up, if he’s still alive, if anyone found him, if he ever got hit by a car or died alone of cancer and heart failure in a field somewhere. i hope you feel guilt for leaving him knowing he’d develop cancer and that he had heart worms, and knowing you did it BECAUSE of that. i hope you never fucking forget about the fact that you threw an INNOCENT LITTLE PUPPY out on the highway because you just didnt want to have anything to do with his illnesses, and i hope one day you find out what you did to us and this innocent little boy. he’s such a good fucking dog, he is so patient, kind, loving and gentle, and when he has bursts of energy to play he fucking goes, and now he has to die barely halfway through his lifespan because of your fucking negligence. he is laying outside on the porch right now, uncomfortable with fluids and blood backing up his intestines, coughing and huffing just to try and breathe. at the very least, if he were taken to the right shelter, he couldve been fucking cared for and given treatments to extend his life as much as possible, or at least given hospice care for however long he could live, which has now been shortened to 3 or 4 years. if you yourself knew this dog was inbred or you inbred him yourself, fuck you. i hope you get run over by a fucking truck. this breed can live from 12-16 years, that’s a LONG time for a dog like him, and you had to fucking ruin it all because of your own fucking preferences; you wanted the perfect dog. and you could’ve had him if you’d grown a fucking heart and actually gave a shit about animals beyond how they look aesthetically; as well, if you fucking actually gave a shit about your animals HEALTH and wanted to maintain it instead of apparently assuming he’d just be fine and healthy with all his vaccinations and that’d be the end of it. you do not deserve to own an animal if you dont even want to acknowledge it will sometimes need medical care, how fucking heartless are you? we never had enough money to take care of dixie’s failing health, and we always knew it’d be better to put her down, but my stepdad kept refusing. you had enough money to fucking breed or buy a blue show-quality engam bulldog and you still wouldnt fucking care for him after you found out what problems he had. fuck you. eat shit and die. i hope you never find peace from the guilt of knowing you fucking killed what became our dog because you’re selfish. my mother is physically sick with grief. i am physically sick with grief. i feel so bad that it’s as if i have the fucking flu. i was trying to talk with my mother about this situation earlier and i had to rush to leave because i felt like i was about to throw up if i didnt. everyone in this house has cried so much today it’s disgusting.

the only thing good about this is that bean came along for dixie when she needed him most, and became her helper and provider, giving her company and being a literal post to lean on for when she couldnt see where she was going. they’re going over the rainbow bridge tomorrow morning together, and in a way, this is probably the best outcome. at least bean wont have to grieve. dixie can see her old companion again (who died from a ruptured tumor in 2014) and bean can meet him, and they can all play and be together in that field in the sky.

my family will never have another dog again because of this pain this has caused us.

#personal #probably dont delete this #dont open this if youre sensitive to animal cruelty and death please #and vulgar descriptions of internal illness in dogs #and emetophobia #dont rb

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jonathan-nevermore-smith · 7 years ago

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Journal of a Recovering Dead Woman, Part 1

Three hours after incident: I am still not hungry, nor do I feel a need to rest or sleep. I remain as alert and active as ever. I almost wish I could go down to visit the training grounds, I feel a jog could help burn off some of this energy. This is a new feeling, wishing to be up and active. Before I had no issues remaining perfectly still for hours at a time. It was my default state of being. I could choose to exert myself, to shift my feet, my weight, to blink, to wiggle my fingers, but I chose to do it, I never had a desire to do so like I do now. This is not my choosing.

Three hours, thirty-four minutes after incident: Desire to jog or otherwise exert myself has calmed down somewhat. Still feel the need to be in motion, so I have set to tapping my foot against the floor. I wish I had something to do.

Three hours, thirty-four-and-a-half minutes after incident: Initiate mender scolded me for tapping my foot. It was annoying to him. Foot tapping has ceased, I am now following his suggestion that I twiddle my thumbs.

Three hours, thirty five minutes after incident: Same initiate has returned to ask why I am sitting in the infirmary when I appear uninjured. Per agreement with Caeliri and Elleynah, I explained that I was here under observation after an accident involving mind-control, though there was no cause for alarm. We spoke briefly about shadow magic and his experience healing the after-effects from it before he carried on with his duties. Surprisingly, I did not detect that he was uncomfortable through our conversation the way most living individuals usually are. Perhaps it is the healthier color to my skin?

Three hours, forty five minutes after incident: I have discovered the Initiate’s name is Jonathan. Not the same Jonathan as Initiate Callum, though I feel the two might get along. He is a half-blood, his father in Stormwind while his mother resides here in Quel’thelas. We spoke again briefly, his shift had just finished, and he politely brought me some water. Though I do not feel thirsty, nor does my throat feel dry, it is refreshing to partake of it. Before the incident my sense of taste was diminished severely, to the point where the strongest of flavors seemed weak against my tongue. Heat or the lack thereof was likewise difficult to determine. This no longer seems to be the case, though I have not partaken of food in order to thoroughly test this. I have made a request of the boy, to bring me part of a dish of his choice in the morning when he wakes.

Four hours, seventeen minutes after incident: I have attempted to write several letters explaining what happened to Feyrintha, but each and every one of them seem inadequate. I am not sure if she is still wounded by our recent argument, but I think this is something best handled in person.

On a separate note, I still feel no desire to eat, sleep or drink, nor do I feel a pressure in my abdomen as per Elleynah’s question. I am beginning to wonder if I have actually changed, or if all that I am feeling is only temporary. If it is meant to be a joke, I would prefer it to end sooner to I can grieve it’s loss sooner.

Five hours, twenty-four minutes after incident: I have consumed a dozen cups of water within the last hour, and feel no desire to urinate. The coldness of the water is something I never experienced in my previous state, and I still find it novel after consuming so much. More so than the poisons that I used to addle my mind. I may have found a favorite drink. Feyrintha will be disappointed it isn’t wine.

Six hours after incident: I have volunteered to sweep the infirmary during my stay. An initiate has rigged up the IV to be mobile as I fulfill the task. I still feel this need to be active and mobile; I hope this will help that feeling go away.

Six hours, twenty-two minutes after incident: It did not.

Seven hours, fifty-four minutes after incident: I am sorry, Caeliri, but I am stepping down to the training area to try and work off some of this energy. I have swept, mopped, chauffeured paperwork and assisted with sterilizing equipment. I have no desire to sleep and do not think I could if I wanted to. For the future, I will only be mentioning a need or desire to eat or sleep if it actually takes me. I do not believe it to be likely at this point, and so will stop wasting ink on it.

Seven hours, fifty-five minutes after incident: Or perhaps I will not be. This IV is still attached to me, and I do not think carrying it with me down to the training yard will be permitted, nor would it be conducive to an activity such as jogging. Perhaps I can convince an initiate to temporarily remove it from me.

Eight hours after incident: No such luck. The Oracle and Greenseer have disciplined them well.

Eight hours, six minutes after incident: I am going to attempt to enter one of my half-conscious states from before the incident. They were similar to sleeping, and allowed me to pass the time in a meditative, dream-like state. If I remain conscious much longer I will rip this IV from my hand in order to escape this place, and I do not wish to do that. I have always tried to be a model patient, and taking advantage of your bond with me to avoid punishment would be wrong. My next entry shall be when I “awake”, or if I fail to achieve it. Whichever comes first.

Eight hours, eight minutes after incident: I cannot wait for this IV to be pulled from my arm. I wish it were not night, that the infirmary was fuller and I could request a few books. Or have a visitor. Something.

Eight hours, ten minutes after incident: I am afraid of what Gloomweaver will think of me. Will she find me an abomination? Report my changes to the order we both owe loyalty too? Can I even remain a member of such an organization? Will they allow it? Might I find a place to reside elsewhere?

Eight hours, twelve minutes after incident: What will I even do anymore? If I cannot call upon my old powers, I am little more than someone exceptionally skilled with weapons. I do not even know if I am susceptible to the same weaknesses I was from before. Do I have to breathe? Do I need to have a pulse? I am doing both naturally but do I have to? Are my bones still made of metal? If so, what kind? Can I still control most of my functions? Everything appears to be working on it’s own without input from me. I have so, so many questions.

Eight hours, twelve-and-a-half minutes after incident, Addendum to the previous entry: In my questioning, I have found that I no longer feel the need to get up and move. I do not often make prayers to it, but Light Bless.

Eight hours, seventeen minutes after incident: I have been holding my breath for the past two minutes. Before starting my test I inquired with an Initiate as to how long it can usually be held before unconsciousness takes hold, with an average of three minutes before unconsciousness and five minutes before brain damage. I have asked this Initiate to standby and revive me if necessary.

Eight hours, twenty-two minutes after incident: I am still holding my breath.

Eight hours, twenty-seven minutes after incident: Whatever has happened to me, I do not understand it. In an effort to allow Initiate Maurel to return to his duties, I have stopped holding my breath. Immediately my body resumed the same pace it did before my tests. I feel no ill effects from this test, or at least none of the effects that Initiate Maurel said usually occur in living beings. According to him I should not be capable of functioning right now, yet I am thinking quite clearly and have enough coordination that my writing is no different than what it was ten minutes ago when I began.

Eight hours, forty minutes after incident: In a continuing effort to see what I am capable of, I have filched a scalpel from a drawer while no one was looking. Before I was able to freely manipulate the various parts of my body, forcing it to heal wounds immediately, control my blood, force organs that never worked to react with a semblance of their original intent and purpose. When I was stressed it happened subconsciously, a subtle indicator of my mood. Seeing as I can already hold my breath for long periods of time with no negative repercussions, I am going to attempt to see if I can do the same with other functions.

Eight hours, fifty-two minutes after incident: My experiments shall have to wait. Duskward Jadeleaf found me just as I was about to cut into myself. She has confiscated the scalpel, and after a scathing rebuke she has reminded me that I should strive to be a model patient. I...suppose I got carried away in my attempts to discover exactly what I am now. I have requested that she not write a report as I promised I would write the truth of the incident in this journal, which will end up in Caeliri’s hands and eventually in my own medical file once I make a copy (she is also watching me write this as I am writing it), however I do not believe she will do so. I do not feel bothered by this, as it is proper procedure and she is doing her duty, as I should do mine. In an effort to help me “sleep”, she has offered one of her teas from her homeland that is said to expedite the process. She does not know if it will affect me (I have not explained what happened to me and do not intend to until we know the full extent of what exactly has happened to me), but it has helped others twice my height and three times my weight, so I have hope. I suppose you shall know in the next few minutes if it has or not, as I will be making another entry if does not. I think I will need to get an actual journal for this, not just loose parchment stuffed together and loosely bound. It will be good to keep for the future, a recollection and documentation of my changes as they were happening. Perhaps it will help remind me how good I feel right now when I hit a low. Perhaps it will be used in future cases. Either way, for now, I am ending this entry. I love you, Caeliri.

@dorksworn @she-wants-the-d20 for mentions

#Siildore Frostlotus #Journal of a Recovering Dead Woman

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lebilliam · 7 years ago

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Hey sirmcartney asked me to do this

I’d rather be doing this over my school ish anyways :’)

Ask me some questions!

3 Fears: Ghosts :((( , fat insects , failing stuff

3 things I love: i fukin love talking to my friends and hanging out , listening to music that i havent heard in forever, and that post workout glow

2 turns on: i can send them memes :) , i can laugh and not give a heck with them

2 turns off: i cant send them memes :( , being mean to me (im sensitive af)

My best friend: zoo wee this is a hard one but id prob say logan or brian or adam or morgan or alex. take ur pick. (morgan and logan tbh)

Sexual orientation: str8

How tall am I: 5′9″ according to my ID

What do I miss right now: intimacy

Favourite color: orange!!!!!

Do I have a crush: ;)

Favourite place: currently ive been digging the imagination room

What am I listening to right now: affection // Cigarettes After Sex

Shoe size: it varies on the brand but normally 9.5 or 10? idk im bad

Eye color: brown

Hair color: black

Meaning behind my URL: its bc i wanted a recognizable alias that i could use across platforms

Favourite song: i always say liztomania by phoenix

Favourite band: Maroon 5 fanboy here but ive been a fan of Cigarettes after Sex for a while now

How I feel right now: STRESSED and ANGERY

Someone I love: myself (kinda)

My current relationship status:

My relationship with my parents: we dont really talk that much but good i think?

Favourite season: oof i like the heat but im gonna say winter bc i get to be emo and i can go walk on fresh snow

Tattoos and piercing i have: none atm

Tattoos and piercing i want: hmmm idk if i want anything big but i always thought the track shoe/wing thing would be nice

The reasons I joined Tumblr: all my friends had it so i thought i would be cool if i made one

Do I ever get “good morning” or “good night ” texts?: i have gotten some before and i appreciate them

Have I ever kissed the last person you texted?: the last person i texted? surprisingly no

How long does it take me to get ready in the morning?: depends if i shower but i can get going in ~4-5 minutes

Have you shaved your legs in the past three days?: nope!

Where am I right now?: imagination room!

Do I like my music loud or at a reasonable level? hell yea who doesnt

Do I live with my Mom and Dad? not atm im chillin #dormlife

Am I excited for anything?: excited for the weekend

Do I have someone of the opposite sex I can tell everything to? hell to the yea of course

How often do I wear a fake smile?: everytime i feel weird around people idk usually i wouldnt say i smile that much unless im gooning

If I could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be?: I believe that the world will introduce me to people when i need it (lame answer: idk anyone but maybe like my friends’ friends)

What do I think about most? this week it’s been the french essay i had to write but overall i think about being appreciated

Do I prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it? id be on both sides if i could but if i had to pick one id totally be in front

What was the last lie I told? oh haha i dont know (but i do know)

Do I perfer talking on the phone or video chatting online? PHONE CALLS

Do I believe in ghosts? How about aliens? Hell yea what else am i supposed to be afraid of. aliens are super cool man of course i think theyre real

Do I believe in magic? NOPE! but theres been some crazy magic tricks where i almost believe but then i see the “how it’s done” video for it

Do I believe in luck? hell yea of course! why would it not exist?

What’s the weather like right now? ughgh it’s disappointingly hot

What was the last book I’ve read? Huis Clos by Jean Paul Sartre (i had to read it for class but it really is a great work of art)

Do I have any nicknames? B, Lil B(ones i have heard the most) Billiam, Broletariate Biu (my mom calls me that), (billy bear is an old one and i dont know why they ever used it in the first place), goomph, toad, frog, ugly ass, nerd, dork, dingus

Do I spend money or save it? i spend it haha kms i really need to save more efficiently

Can I touch my nose with a tounge?: nope just tried and looked like a fool

Favourite animal? oof i want to say dogs but thats basic but dogs are so loving like i dont get it how do they do it

What was I doing last night at 12 AM?: i was up and i was emo. jk i was hanging out and watching bad Freshman xxl cyphers

What’s a song that always makes me happy when I hear it? Get Low by lil Jon or Faded (the remix) or change your mind by the killers. im gonna go ahead and say that change your mind gets my shit hyped UP

What is my favorite word? satiation

My top 5 blogs on tumblr: idk if im going to be honest i dont really use tumblr that much for personal blogs but i do love foodporn, til, ruined childhood

If the whole world were listening to me right now, what would I say? love each other.

Do I have any relatives in jail? i dont think so? oh jk theyre not really a relative but they’re a close family friend’s relative

What is my current desktop picture? FUKIN FUNCTIONAL GROUPS THAT I DONT EVER KNOW OFF THE TOP OF MY HEAD EVEN THOUGH THERES A TEST IN 10.25 HOURS

Had sex? ye

Bought condoms? ye

Gotten pregnant? cant really say that i have :p

Have I ever kissed somebody in the rain? yes

Had job? yep! summer job at the zoo which was cool af

Smoked weed? once or twice

Smoked cigarettes? never.nope.disgusting

Drank alcohol? yes

Am I a vegetarian/vegan? i tried being vegetarian for a bit but then i wasnt eating enough red meat

Been overweight? as a kid i feel like i was overly big but now that i think about it i dont think i was fat

Been underweight? definitely

Gotten my heart broken? homeboy who hasnt?

Been to prom? yeep

Been in airplane? yeep

Learned another language? heck yes! english kek and im in the process of learning french. i tried learning lithuanian after a life changing experience.

Wore make up? surprisingly no

Dyed my hair? nope! i dont want to bleach my hair

Had a surgery? uhhh does laser surgery count? bc ive had 3 so far and i might have more

Met someone famous? every time i walk by a mirror ;) jk i met the senator of WA and the mayor of Tacoma a couple times

Stalked someone on a social network? pfft hell yes

Been fishing? yep! it’s always an experience

Been rejected by a crush? rip me yes

What do I want for birthday? i want to have a nice get together with friends where we do stuff that i dont have to pay for (but i dont think thats how life works anymore)

Do I like my handwriting? I love it in pen and when i hit my ecrivain stride, but otherwise when my hands get sweaty its just a fkin mess

Where do I want to live when older? i’ve always said paris, but zaragoza spain wouldnt be too bad!

Have I ever got caught sneaking out or doing anything bad? yea boi

What I’m really bad at: believing in myself

What my greatest achievments are: i was a smart kid in elementary! i got some awards for getting good grades and i went to a competitive thing for piano once and i placed a couple times in some random races ive run

The meanest thing somebody has ever said to me: oof i dont want to really relive that experience

What I’d do if I won in a lottery: id ask /r/personalfinance

What do I like about myself: id like to think im gaining/losing healthy weight

My closest Tumblr friend: on tumblr?? idk i said i dont really use tumblr for friends but i’d probably say memequeen or sirmccartney

Any question you’d like? when am i going to meet up with my RA? no one knows idk i forgot about our meeting and hes really cool about rescheduling so i might do it this saturday

Are you outgoing or shy? it really depends on how im feeling but id like to think im pretty outgoing!

What kind of people are you attracted to? NICE FRIENDly people who can laugh. laughing is important to me

Do you think you’ll be in a relationship two months from now? personally i think yes

Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable? nope!

Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with? @thoseloverseyes most def

What does the most recent text that you sent say? “haha and then what ;)” jk it says” thank”

What are your 5 favorite songs right now? boy oh boy am i not ready for this question. Id think “this love, maroon 5″, humble (its a bop), “the air that i breathe, “open - rhye”, and rollin by calvin harris or this house by japaense breakfast idk the last one always changes

Do you like it when people play with your hair? i had a weird experience once but idk i think im willing to let other people touch my hair? not a fan

Do you think there is life on other planets?of course. this topic is not up for debate. just bc our defition of life has not been found that does not mean that there is not life in other places where we are either 1) not looking or 2) life that we cant recognize due to our weird weird obsession with water like life does not have to use water as a conduit for essential functions

well that was fun and id say it took some time. it def got me feeling better about life. 7.8/10 i would do it again but im sweaty af from this hot ass room

peace!

#personal

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sickficlover · 8 years ago

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Could you do a sick izaya with a really high fever?

Two fics in one day! I must be on a roll ^.^

Anyway, here is Izaya with a fever for you. I chose Celty and Shinra as caretakers this time, but Shizuo is in it, too. I hope you like it!

***

Izaya didn’t feel too great. He was just coming from a meeting with Shiki and had actually wanted to mess around in Ikebukuro for a bit, but he then on his way back he started to feel a bit woozy. Not quite dizzy yet, but sluggish and unfocused, making him reconsider.

His first thought had been that he had been poisoned, but he dismissed that idea quickly. He didn’t drink or eat anything someone else gave him as a rule and with his alert senses he would have noticed a needle being stuck into his or something. Also he was far too valuable an informant to Shiki and everybody knew it and didn’t want to get on the yakuza’s wrong side.

No, it was probably just exhaustion. He hadn’t gotten much sleep recently, due to work.

Izaya had just resolved to simply go back to his apartment when he heard the familiar noise of a street sign being ripped off behind him.

“IIIIIIzaaaayaaa-kuuun!” an only too familiar voice roared behind him. “Didn’t I tell you not to show yourself in Ikebukuro again?”

He turned around. Shizuo stood behind him, swinging a street sign over his head and clearly pissed off. He couldn’t help but smile at this magnificent sight. No matter what, he had to play with the blonde right now.

“Maaa, maaa, Shizu-chan!” he exclaimed in a cheery sing-song voice which he knew would put Shizuo even more on edge. “Did you have a bad day? You really should think about other ways to relax after work! Have you thought about Yoga? Or Tai-chi?”

The blonde let out a single, guttural growl and charged towards Izaya, lashing out with his makeshift weapon. Izaya couldn’t help but laugh, as he avoided the blondes attack by gracefully stepping aside. Well, not as graceful as usual, since his body’s response was a little slower than normal as he noticed with some annoyance. But it was enough to avoid being hit.

“I don’t think that this kind of agitation is good for your blood pressure, Shizu-chan,” Izaya teased the blonde with a smirk. With one hand he reached into his pocket slowly to, took his beloved knife and hid it in his sleeve. He would probably need it soon.

“IIIIzaaayaaa-kuuun!” Shizuo snarled, his face twisting into an angry grin. “Stop running away, you damn flea, let me finally beat the shit out of you!”

Izaya grinned and dodged another of the blonde’s attacks by diving to the side and with the same movement slashed his knife across Shizuo’s upper arm, effectively ripping open the other’s shirt and drawing a bit of blood.

“I got those clothes from my brother!” the bartender growled, voice dangerously low.

Izaya turned around immediately and could almost see Shizuo’s eyes turning red from rage. It was time to start the real chase. The next time the blonde came at him he turned around and darted off down the street. He didn’t have to turn around to see if he was being followed; the street signs, trash cans and vending machines crashing all around him were proof enough.

He was two streets from Russia Sushi when something changed. He suddenly felt a lightheaded and his vision went black for a split second. He stopped immediately to avoid running into someone. How uncool would that have been?

Of course in that exact moment of slight distraction he was hit in the back by something heavy. Next he knew he was lying on the ground, a trash can rolling around next to him. Well, it could have been worse. He got up slowly, coughing involuntarily. Luckily the blonde hadn’t reached him yet (just how far could that monster throw? He really had to look into that), so he could avoid being punched into a pulp for the moment. But even he realised now, that he couldn’t continue like that today. His head was swimming, the noises around him seemed to be somehow muffled and he felt a lot more exhausted than he should have been after this relatively short chase.

He took a deep breath. There was one thing that usually worked. The question was if he could make it there in his state.

Izaya didn’t have much time to think; the crashes behind him got progressively louder, as did the angry voice of the one causing them. The raven sighed. He didn’t really have a choice.

He started running again, trying to ignore his laboured breathing and his dizziness. It seemed to take an eternity to reach the Sushi shop. But he was lucky: Simon was standing in front of it, trying to hand flyers out to passersby.

“Oh, Izaya,” Simon exclaimed when he saw him. “Come, eat sushi! It’s good!”

Izaya ignored him and darted past the dark skinned Russian. The next moment he heard a loud thump. He didn’t need to turn around to know that Simon had caught one of Shizuo’s projectiles.

“Shizuo! Fighting is no good!” he heard a second later. “Come eat sushi! Sushi is good!”

Izaya smiled, feeling really worn out now, and made his way into a more or less secluded alley in order to catch his breath.

The moment he was in safety ‘though, his legs started to wobble beneath him and black spots appeared in front of his eyes. He stumbled against a wall and slid down into a sitting position.

“Huh,” he chuckled to himself. “I really over did it this time, didn’t I?”

Of course there was no answer. The raven haired informant shivered and pulled his fur rimmed jacket closer around himself. Why was it so cold all of a sudden?

His eyes slipped shut. He really was exhausted. A few minutes of rest couldn’t hurt.

***

Celty had had a rather peaceful day so far, with relatively normal jobs and no problems. So she was in a very good mood when she made her way back to her and Shinra’s shared flat.

But suddenly, shortly after passing Russia Sushi, she felt shooter give an attentive lurch beneath her.

“What’s wrong, boy?” she thought. If she could’ve, she would have frowned. He just guided her to a little alley nearby. On first sight, there was nothing unusual about it, just a few trash cans standing around. But then she noticed a dark figure huddled against one of the walls.

She approached it cautiously. On getting closer she immediately recognised Izaya’s signature jacket. The dark haired young man was half lying, half sitting against the wall, head rolled to one side.

Celty kneeled down beside him. Izaya might not be one of her favourite persons, but he was still one of Shinra’s oldest friends (not that Shinra had that many friends). The informant didn’t seem injured; at least there was no blood anywhere.

She gently shook his shoulder, trying to get him to wake up and tell her what was wrong. But Izaya just let out what sounded like a pained groan and turned away from her without opening his eyes.

If Celty had had a face, her initial frown would have deepened by now. She put a hand to the other’s chin and carefully turned his head in her direction. Izaya was pale under normal circumstances, but now his face was white as a sheet, save for a light red hue covering his cheeks. It was only now that she noticed that his whole body was shaking slightly.

The dullahan hastily took off one of her biker gloves and put her bare hand to the dark haired man’s forehead. If she had a voice, she would have winced from the heat under her fingers. She was by no means an expert on human physiology as her fiancé was, but she was fairly certain, that Izaya’s temperature shouldn’t be that high.

She put her glove back, slung one of the limp man’s arms around her neck and got up. Carefully she carried him towards Shooter and willed her horse mentally to change into a motorcycle with a side car. Once the informant was placed into the small seat and sufficiently secured, Celty started off in the direction of her flat. Shinra would know what to do.

***

The first thing Izaya noticed when regaining consciousness was a pounding headache behind his closed eyes. He suppressed a groan and slowly opened them.

He could barely make out his surroundings at first; everything seemed to turn around him. Then he heard a voice, calling his name and his eyes focused on a figure leaning over him. Shinra.

“You’re awake,” the doctor said with this weird smile on his face. “Good. Don’t try to move just yet, you have quite the fever. Also you’re dehydrated, you really should take better care of yourself!”

Izaya shut his eyes again with a small sigh. “How did I get here?” he asked, unable to raise his voice above a soft whisper.

“Celty found you passed out in somewhere from what I understood,” the cheery voice of the underground doctor answered. “She was rather agitated when the two of you arrived.”

Izaya heard him get up and return a few seconds later. The next moment he felt a gentle hand snaking under his head and lifting it up. He opened his eyes again with some effort only to see a glass of water brought to his mouth by the doctor.

“You really need to take some fluids,” the Shinra stated. “I have to put you on an IV otherwise.”

The informant didn’t feel like letting the other put a needle in his arm, so he opened his mouth obediently and sipped at the water. He managed a few small gulps before he was thrown into a coughing fit.

He felt his head being laid down and turned on his other side, still coughing. Each cough was sending a sharp pang of pain through his head and when he finally managed to calm down he felt tears burn in the corner of his eyes. Being sick really sucked.

Izaya turned to his back again, eyes closed. All he wanted right now was to sleep. Suddenly he felt a cool cloth pressed to his forehead. It was… pleasant, helping a little with his headache.

“You really don’t feel good, do you?” Shinra asked in a hushed voice. Izaya just moaned. “And still you let yourself be chased through half of Ikebukuro by Shizuo.” Shinra chuckled and Izaya could vividly imagine him shaking his head. He didn’t have to ask where the doctor had learned that from. Things like that spread like fire in ‘bukuro.

“You really have no idea how to take care of yourself,” Shinra stated then. “Think you can handle some medicine? It’s all fluids, ‘though I’m afraid they taste terrible.” Izaya just nodded the best he could and opened his mouth, eyes still closed.

He couldn’t suppress a shudder when Shinra poured the first dose of foul tasting liquid into him, but he didn’t protest. The fever seemed to have sapped all his energy.

“Hah, I really like you better like this!” Shinra exclaimed when he was done. “All weak and cute!”

“Shut it,” Izaya whispered without real venom in his voice. “ ‘m tired…”

“Then try to sleep a bit,” the doctor said in a more serious tone. “You’ll probably feel better when you wake up.”

Izaya just nodded weakly and then willed his body to relax.

“Thanks Shinra,” he breathed before drifting off. He didn’t even hear the soft reply anymore.

“That’s what friends are for.”

#durarara!!#sickfic #fever #dizziness #collapsing #hurt/comfort #orihara izaya #celty sturlson #kishitani shinra

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thepalegoldmoon · 8 years ago

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Answers

so i was asked to answer all of these so here i gooooooo!!!!~… kms… ;u;

— 1. Who was the last person you held hands with?

uhhhhmmm i dont really hold hands cause i over heat and the get clammy easily, so the last person i “held hands”/ linked arms with was actually at Anime Boston with this rad dude Jay, we were cosplaying Keith and Lance from Voltron. it was a good day, but we were tired as fuck.

2. Are you outgoing or shy?

kinda both depends on the situation and who im around tbh

3. Who are you looking forward to seeing?

in general or like famous??? uhhhmmm, if we’re going in general tbh me rad ass mate Jay cause why wouldnt I be looking forward to seeing this kid??? hes literally the best thing or person to see ever, duh! and if were going famous??? uhhhmmm music wise either Panic! At The Disco, TOP, orrrrr maybe a tie between some one from the Hamilton, or Heahters musicals.

4. Are you easy to get along with?

again depends on the situation and people. over all id say yeah in some way.

5. If you were drunk would the person you like take care of you?

uhmmm idk because we’d both probably be shit faced and tumbling over each other screaming, incoherently and laughing our asses off. While simultaneously getting into 20 different fights over cheese, bread, and cats. Then crying about video games and anime. probably in the midst of this we’d be laughing and patting each other’s back telling each other how good of a bro the other is an how we’re gonna take over the world by the sheer brute force of dogs and cats

6. What kind of people are you attracted to?

uhhhhmmm i dont really have a type but there’s a guy i like alot whos my dream guy tbh, and to me hes perfect in alot and pretty much every single way. ºuº

7. Do you think you’ll be in a relationship two months from now?

probably not but its nice to hope and dream c:

8. Who from the opposite gender is on your mind?

either rn my friend Casey cause shes in spain this week for vacation or my childhood bestfriend Liz cause her birthday just pasted on april 7th and i havent seen her in years.

9. Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable?

depends on who im with and what exactly kinda stuff were talking about. but im always awkard af with everything so im always uncomftorble.

10. Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with?

mi boi Jay!!~ we tend to get into deep conversation alot. i enjoy it alot tbh hahaha.

11. What does the most recent text that you sent say?

(when i got to this quesion)

WE WILL BE TRASH GODS!!!~

12. What are your 5 favorite songs right now?

UHMMM pass cause honestly the whole entirety of Heathers and Hamilton pretty much.

13. Do you like it when people play with your hair?

OMFG HELL YEAH I DO!!!!!!!~

14. Do you believe in luck and miracles?

yeah man thats always been something i believe in because i have the most terrible luck but i like to believe miracles have happened in my life.

15. What good thing happened this summer?

i started the change in my social life and i got a really rad friend through the beginning phase of it!

16. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again?

uhmmm ive only done pecks cause im fucking looser so that was Jay, so hell yeah i would man hahaha! (hes got a kissable face its nice alright, i swear im not this fucking awkward XD) ((and bro i know youll end up reading this. i love ya man!! i hope this isnt too bad lol~))

17. Do you think there is life on other planets?

fuck yeah i do bro. i wanna befriend at least one of them tbh.

18. Do you still talk to your first crush?

not really cause the kid left after 5th grade and i never saw him again,

19. Do you like bubble baths?

fuck yes.

20. Do you like your neighbors?

i dont really talk to them haha.

21. What are you bad habits?

i have alot, talking to much and fighting HARD during a fight, and having the worst timing for smart ass comments, and trying to change things i cant change too much. theres more but thats a good few.

22. Where would you like to travel?

everywhere and anywhere tbh

23. Do you have trust issues?

a bit ive more developed them because of shitty people

24. Favorite part of your daily routine?

either shower or the part where i come home and either draw, eat, play video games, get to text my boi, or where i get to sleep.

25. What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with?

my nose, the corners of my mouth or my big toes.

26. What do you do when you wake up?

text my friend good morning or get up and play with my mouse for a few minutes

27. Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker?

i enjoy my skin tone but i wish i could tan ith out burning although, ive always wanted to either be albino or see what its like to be darker.

28. Who are you most comfortable around?

either Jay, or my friend Casey

29. Have any of your ex’s told you they regret breaking up?

nope because i dont talk to them XD

30. Do you ever want to get married?

at some point maybe haha

31. Is your hair long enough for a pony tail?

almost but the sides and some of my bangs are just a teeny bit off from making it :u:

32. Which celebrities would you have a threesome with?

uhmm not really any tbh theyre all to much older than me

33. Spell your name with your chin.

alyxx/ nyxx

34. Do you play sports? What sports?

ew no but i like swimming and to go on walks for fun

35. Would you rather live without TV or music?

thats hard cause i need both for background noise

36. Have you ever liked someone and never told them?

not really, i dont think so

37. What do you say during awkward silences?

something really stupid and half the time really provocative

38. Describe your dream girl/guy?

ahhhh hahaha well i dont really know because the guy im crushing on is my dream guy js. and if i were to try and describe him id butcher the amazing and astounding beauty of the real person to be honest

39. What are your favorite stores to shop in?

ahhhh idk, lush?? and anything with food tbh

40. What do you want to do after high school?

die, or move to salem WITCHever comes first -u0 lol (bad pun i know i know)

41. Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance?

i belive in ALOT of chances tbh

42. If your being extremely quiet what does it mean?

either im tired, extremely sad/depressed, overthinking/ thinking, focusing, thinking how to reply something or im REALLY fucking pissed off at you for something.

43. Do you smile at strangers?

REALLY FUCKING AWKWARDLY AND IN REALLY FUCKING AWKWARD SITUATIONS

44. Trip to outer space or bottom of the ocean?

UHHHHHH BOTH!!!!!~ TF?

45. What makes you get out of bed in the morning?

THE INPENDING FEAR AND DOOM OF CRIPPLING ANXIETY IF I MISS THE BUS OR if im hanging out wiht someone that day the motivation of not being alone in my room with myself for the whole day or so hahaha, or a con/ meet up which applies to friends.

46. What are you paranoid about?

AAAHAHAHAHAHA IS THAT EVEN A QUESTION???? fucking everything…

47. Have you ever been high?

yes

48. Have you ever been drunk?

buzzed not drunk

49. Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about?

uhhh i dont think so im not really very secretive. maybe like PERSONAL shit but no

50. What was the colour of the last hoodie you wore?

Grey

51. Ever wished you were someone else?

a few times

52. One thing you wish you could change about yourself?

uhmmm either eye color and nose Physically.and personality wise i wish i wasnt so stubborn tbh.

53. Favourite makeup brand?

lush is the closest thing to makeup i use hunny

54. Favourite store?

lush

55. Favourite blog?

@thedevilandhisfiddleofgold c;

56. Favourite colour?

Blue

57. Favourite food?

uhmmm theres too many to list, all?? except spicy

58. Last thing you ate?

a cracker with nutella on it

59. First thing you ate this morning?

a cinnamon powdered sugar doughnut

60. Ever won a competition? For what?

nope

61. Been suspended/expelled? For what?

Suspending, accused of stealing shitty locker wallpaper panels. THAT I ACCTUALLY FUCKING HADNT ;U;

62. Been arrested? For what?

nope

63. Ever been in love?

YES ;-;

64. Tell us the story of your first kiss?

never fucking had one kiddies sorry no story time for this one

65. Are you hungry right now?

kinda i want chips

66. Do you like your tumblr friends more than your real friends?

uhm my only tumblr friends are friends in real life so not really because how do you like someone more on tumblr than you like them in real life??? not like its impossible its just odd.

67. Facebook or Twitter?

neither tbh, i only use my facebook for my work schedule

68. Twitter or Tumblr?

TUMBLR

69. Are you watching tv right now?

yes i started 13 reasons why

70. Names of your bestfriends?

jay, casey, liz (ranked most to least interaction and tbh who ive talked to most recently, those other two loosers never text me)

71. Craving something? What?

chips, cookies, FOOD, and love, BUT MOSTLY FOOD RN

72. What colour are your towels?

we have mostly white and black towels but theyre all just multicolored

72. How many pillows do you sleep with?

(im also counting my stuffed animals as pillows)

at least 11 tbh

73. Do you sleep with stuffed animals?

(refer to last question)

74. How many stuffed animals do you think you have?

75. Favourite animal?

wolf, fox, raven, snowleopard, cat, snake (i cant choose)

76. What colour is your underwear?

black like my soul bitch

77. Chocolate or Vanilla?

vanilla

78. Favourite ice cream flavour?

birthday cake or cotton candy/ bubblegum

79. What colour shirt are you wearing?

black

80. What colour pants?

dark grey

81. Favourite tv show?

uhmmmm Voltron or steven universe

82. Favourite movie?

heathers and the crow

83. Mean Girls or Mean Girls 2?

Mean Girls

84. Mean Girls or 21 Jump Street?

havent seen the second one (refer to previous question)

85. Favourite character from Mean Girls?

the lebanese chick and the gay guy that were friends with lindsay lohan’s character

86. Favourite character from Finding Nemo?

thats a hard question cause i love them all ;-;

87. First person you talked to today?

Jay (and caiden???) i sent a message to a group chat right after i woke up, i was pointed at Jay but theyre both in that chat

88. Last person you talked to today?

same chat

89. Name a person you hate?

ahha ahhahaha hahahaha, mmmmm theres alot

90. Name a person you love?

Jay, Casey, my pets

91. Is there anyone you want to punch in the face right now?

better question… is there not????

92. In a fight with someone?

i dont think so but im aboutabe casue they wont give me times on if theyre coming tomorrow or not ;-;

93. How many sweatpants do you have?

2 and a pair of sweat pants i made into shorts

94. How many sweaters/hoodies do you have?

hehehe at least 6 or 7. tbh my attack on titan one has been issing for a while and it makes me sad

95. Last movie you watched?

heathers, im not saying the technical last one cause it was gross as fuck and doe not count as a movie to me

96. Favourite actress?

ehhh hellena bonham carter

97. Favourite actor?

johnny depp

98. Do you tan a lot?

not really cause i burn and im afraid of getting skin cancer

99. Have any pets?

2 guinea PIGS and a mouse

100. How are you feeling?

alright kinda missing my friends and also kind anxious

101. Do you type fast?

depends on my mood, what im typing on, and about

102. Do you regret anything from your past?

so.. many… things…

103. Can you spell well?

fairly decently i think, average nothing over the top but i try haha

104. Do you miss anyone from your past?

ehhh Liz and my friend Julia from Germany she was cool.

105. Ever been to a bonfire party?

nope

106. Ever broken someone’s heart?

there was a girl named shannon who was all over me and head over heels for me, she mightve been a taurus. she tried to use some serious mental shit to try and get me to stay. i told her to seek professional help and not me.

107. Have you ever been on a horse?

nope

108. What should you be doing?

a 10 page paper and finishing final fantasy, and getting more loot boxes in overwatch

109. Is something irritating you right now?

not really knowing what to do with my senior paper, shop friends, being alone, and not having enough hours in the day and always being fucking tired.

110. Have you ever liked someone so much it hurt?

yes, i do right now, tbh, but its cool

111. Do you have trust issues?

this was already asked. slightly it depends on the person

112. Who was the last person you cried in front of?

no one, mentally and close to physiccally jay and caiden, but im always mentally crying. i dont physically cry if i do youre special, im not that soft.

113. What was your childhood nickname?

Ash

114. Have you ever been out of your province/state?

i was born in pittsburgh, pa. i lived in townsend, ma and i just recently moved to pepperrel, ma.

115. Do you play the Wii?

not any more

116. Are you listening to music right now?

not really

117. Do you like chicken noodle soup?

yes

118. Do you like Chinese food?

YAS

119. Favourite book?

how to make the perfect boy?? (its something like that) i also really enjoyed mrs. perigrines home for peculiar children.

120. Are you afraid of the dark?

im afraid of what might be in it

121. Are you mean?

i can be

122. Is cheating ever okay?

ew not wtf

123. Can you keep white shoes clean?

probably not

124. Do you believe in love at first sight?

kinda but only to an extent

125. Do you believe in true love?

again kinda but only to an extent tbh

126. Are you currently bored?

a bit

127. What makes you happy?

chilling with jay, playing wiht my animal or sleeping

128. Would you change your name?

i want to, im trying to get Alyxx as my name hahah but i have a genius way to keep ASH

129. What your zodiac sign?

GEMINI BIATCH!!!!~

130. Do you like subway?

yeah its alright

131. Your bestfriend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do?

uhhhh hahah i already dated my childhood bestfriend. Liz was chill but id kindly turn her down

132. Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with?

already answered this up top, but Jay

133. Favourite lyrics right now?

hmmmm i have too many tbh, id love to put one here but i cant think of a good one atm sorry my dudes

134. Can you count to one million?

maybe but im to lazy to fam

135. Dumbest lie you ever told?

hahaha ive told too many to put those down

136. Do you sleep with your doors open or closed?

CLOSED OMFG NO #TRIGGERED

137. How tall are you?

5′5.25″ ( THAT QUARTER IS IMPORTANT ;u;, believe it or not i had=ve alot of friends that are taller than me)

138. Curly or Straight hair?

wavy-ish

139. Brunette or Blonde?

i myself am a “brunette”

140. Summer or Winter?

kinda both

141. Night or Day?

ehh more night but i enjoy both

142. Favourite month?

either, October, November, December, and i actually am not a fan of my birth month may haha

143. Are you a vegetarian?

nope but ive thought about becoming one to cleanse and to get in better shape kinda reasons

144. Dark, milk or white chocolate?

milk and white

145. Tea or Coffee?

both

146. Was today a good day?

ehhh kinda

147. Mars or Snickers?

snickers but i wanna try a mars bar

148. What’s your favourite quote?

hahah either

“ another fucking heather! -sighs- Our love is god let’s go get a slushie!”

-JD “Heathers”

( i relate most to the heather part tbh)

“ill hook ‘em…” “..and ill cook ‘em!”

-Roadhog and Junkrat “Overwatch”

( YEAH I KNOW IM TRASH BUT ITS A PRECIOUS QUOTE BETWEEN TO REALLY GOOD BEST MATES OKAY!!!??)

149. Do you believe in ghosts?

WHOLE HEARTEDLY, IVE SEEN THEM, IVE FELT THEM, IVE HEARD THEM, TALKED TO THEM, I RESPECT THE SHIT OUT OF THEM AND THEY ARE KINDA SLIGHTLY TERRIFYING BUT I LOVE THEM!

150. Get the closest book next to you, open it to page 42, what’s the first line on that page?

“WOW MAGNUS, you’re probably thinking. That was… stupid!”

Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard

#my asks #non anon

2 notes · View notes

forebodingowl · 4 years ago

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i really need to get back to writing in here. i dont think i have for an entire month, or at least 3 weeks! every thing has been going okay. i mostly do art or set up streaming stuff on my computer at daytime, and then i read comics and go to sleep. still doing self care. slacking a little bit on it so i need to bring exfoliation back to my daily skin care routine. got almost all my furniture set up now except for my vanity. i can finally put my clothes in the dresser instead of searching through the box. things have been good. i see asa every week. i love him and he is so kind and patient with me and does so much for me. i did a blue diamond makeup test and it came out BEAUTIFUL , i am so proud of it. i also have been making tik toks sometimes and they’re kind of funny, so i like that about me too recently haha. i have like 0 summer clothes and no a/c so i’ve been sweating my fucking ass off. i ordered a bunch of summer clothes off Romwe and i’m waiting for those to ship, they probably wont be here till first of july. and i’m hoping to have an a/c in a week. its going to be in the 90s this weekend tho so i’m just gonna have to suffer through that.

i havent worked out or eaten healthy in a couple weeks. i’ve been eating wayyyyy too much take out and i need to chill with that. i need to save money. my grandpa ken said he’s sending a $500 check to me in the mail so i’m going to use that for the a/c. so random from him because i havent seen him in a long time. i’m going to go back to writing in this every night and morning because it super helped keep me on track. i’ll post my to do list for tomorrow right after i finish this journal. i have to finish cleaning my room tonight and finish filling my dresser with clothes (the dresser asa built and put up for me). i’ve been drawing some fanart of dotflow, a horror game asa showed me, and for a music video Ashnikko and Grimes did together for their song Cry. I loved the early 2000s CgI graphics of it and the little plot about revenge and grief. i’m drawing a scene from it with her floating in 0G in her gundam space ship while crying, and he tears are floating up., i want to make it a gif of the tears going up and maybe move the body up and down so it looks like it’s floating. i am trying to go to bed earlier these days and i am pretty tired tonight from the heat and not much sleep with asa so i thinkk i’m going to rest well, and i’m going to take some sleeping meds to make sure of it.

UGHHHHH i love asa so much he is so GOOD TO MEEEE, i am so so so damn lucky to know him. i want to be better to him so i got him a bunch of gifts off etsy to make him a nice little present. i am sooooo excited because i ordered a bunch of stuff that has to do with his favorite games and stuff. i think he is really really really gonna like it. hmmm. my grandma blocked me on facebook because i dont support police and i do support BLM.

oh thats something new that happened since last time. the BLM protests after the killing of George Floyd. Protests not just here in America, but all over the world. It’s so beautiful i could cry right now thinking about it. people are shouting to defund the police, and to charge police with their unprovoked killings of black people. i want all of that. i want people to get better and i want black people to feel safe and loved. i’m crying lol. it’s just so fucking sad. it’s soooooo sad. i really hope we can start a revolution. i hope this just doesnt fizzle out when people get tired. its hard work.

on top of that, coronavirus is still a thing here thats still killing people and spreading. apparently even if you heal from it, it leaves your body wrecked for the rest of your life. young healthy people who recovered from it now have asthma and extreme exhaustion among other things. this one young healthy girl had to have a double lung transplant, it ruined her lungs so bad. she could have died. i dont understand why the world is like this. i’m sooooo fucking sad. i dont understand why we cant all work to make a society that takes care of everyone and makes sure everyone lives happy comfortable peaceful lives. why is there so much evil? the point of society is to work together to make each other happy. to take care of each other. why havent we ever been able to do that? hasnt the cruelty gone on long enough? i hope i live to see some sort of change. but who knows with the way global warming is doing too, and politicians not taking it seriously and allowing huge corporations to continue polluting the earth. capitalism ruined everything and the money machine is evil and greedy.

i dont want to leave this on too sad of a note. i lov e my friends and hold them dear to my heart. they are my family and all i think about all of the time. i know i am doing good and i am safe and i thank my lucky stars for all the good in my life. i am such a lucky lucky girl. ive been feeling so happy. oh shit i forgot to reschedule with my psychiatrist lmao, i’ll set an alarm to do that and to call my grandpa tomorrow.

i love you sabrina. you deserve all of the love that you receive. everyone loves you because you are such a caring gentle soul, you are so funny and creative and full of life. you are so full of fun and you are clever and adventurous. theres so much good in you and people see that and are drawn to you. take care of yourself beautiful. love yourself. you can do anything. <3

#journal

0 notes

cami1822 · 7 years ago

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The 4am shift was always Jays favourite shift at tastebuds, the cute cafe that none of the so called ‘cool’ people went to when there was a Starbucks. It was a open and airy cafe, with floor to ceiling windows at the front of the building, and worn, wood panels on the rest of the walls. Fairy lights were strung along one wall and pictures were tangled in the string lights, just pictures of frequent costomers and the cafe throughout its years. Retro lightbulbs hung from the ceiling, scattered throughout the rest of the cafe. The chalk boards behind the counter were brand new because the others had gotten used so frequently that the dust had become one with the boards. Jay always had loved the cafe ever since she came here as a kid with her grandma for afternoon tea. She loved the squashy arm chairs and the dark wooden tables. She loved the small, vertical garden near the entrance, and eating the mint leaves off of it. She loved that it could be airy in the summer and cozy in the winter without anything changing. Jay loved the oversized chipped mugs and the extra nutmeg that she always found in her coffee. Now, at 17 she could finally work here. Her favourite spot was in the corner by the window, with the vertical garden behind her and the window beside her, so she could see everything and the plants tickled the back of her neck. Beside the garden was a bookshelf. it wasn’t that big, but big enough that it took her a year and a half to finally get though. Jay was behind the counter, adding ‘hot chocolate’ in stick like writing to the chalkboard since the weather had reached its mid point in autumn when she stepped back and knocked a mug off of the edge of the sink. She swatted at it in mid air twice until it finally slipped from her clumsy grasp and hit the birch floor with a ‘plonk’, thankfully not smashing. She groaned in relief, and clasped its handle with her pinkie, scooping it up and into the sink. No one was in the cafe ever at 4am and thats why she liked it the most. She could sit in her corner with a good book, and a free coffee, and she got paid for it. Usually it was quiet like that until 6 to 6:30, when the first early risers trudged in, folding their collars back down and whisking off toques. Jay also loved to watch the sunrise, she loved to watch it set the cafe of fire like everything was glowing a soft golden. The sunrise was always perfect because the the cafe windows faced directly towards it, and the small brick cones across the street were short so it didnt block the sun. At this time in the year the sun rose at around 5:45 which gave Jay lots of time for her to read in her favourite light setting. She never flicked on the main lights until 6, instead turning on the fairy lights and basking in the soft glow of them with a book and blanket. ‘This stuff sounds stupid’. Jay always thought to her self whenever she did this, or dwelled upon the fact that she count be more content in the moments she spent in the cafe at that time. But Jay always felt like the cafe was her own little palace. She felt like the cafe was a book, and every time she was in it, she was rereading it and finding tiny bits of information she had missed before, and rereading her favourite parts. No one could read the book like she could, maybe because sometimes she felt like she wrote it. Jay had hopped onto the counter and was obsorbed in a new book she had just gotten when she heard the heavy door being pushed open, a the dented christmas bell tinkle. Jay spun around, a little too fast, loosing her balance and almost falling off of the counter. Once she had composed herself again she looked up to see a tall lanky guy with chattering teeth and big black frammed classes sliding down a thin nose. His hands were deep in his pockets and he was trying to smile sheepishly thought his noisy teeth. I raised my eyebrows, and nodded to the chalk board. “I just added hot chocolate to the menu, want some?” She asked. He nodded and bit his lip to stop the chattering. “More like need some, thanks.” Jay slipped off the counter and started to make the hot coco. “So, why are you here at 4 in the morning?” She asked, heating up milk. “same reason you are.” He seated himself in Jays corner after a carful selection, and jay didnt know weather to be proud of irritated. “To make money?” Jay smiled. He studdied her for a minute before replying. “Well no, im here to, to be _here.” _Jay raised her eyebrows again and started to shake to can of whipped cream. “Obviously, someone our age would not work to 4am shift here unless they really wanted to.” Thats when Jay realized that he was around the same age as her, and also not wearing any jackted but a too big worn out hoodie. “And how do you know I wasn’t a fill in for someone else?” I asked him another question. “Because if you were you wouldn’t have asked me why I was here genuinely unless you were checking me out, which you weren't.” Jay could tell she had an amused look on her face and the guy smiled at her when she sat the steamy mug down in front of him. “Whats you're-” “Sawyer” He cut me off with a grin (the chattering had stopped) “I swear im not this cocky all the time.” I laughed slightly and sat down in the chair across from him. “Nah I can tell, your a real teddy bear inside aren't you sawyer.” Sawyer grimaced slightly, scrunching up his nose. “I wouldnt go that far.” “awe you just proved it.” Jay bit her lip and watched as he shook tiny water droplets out of his dark hair. “You're not the only one who can read people.” She smiled as he tilted his head to the side and raised an eyebrow. “So give me a reason why you're here, of why you want to be here.” Sawyer licked his lips and curled his fingers around the mug taking a sip. “Wow this is good! what did you put in it? Was it-” “Nutmeg.” she finished. “It tastes like Christmas.” He beamed down at the drink. Jay laughed and shook her head slightly. “Thats the point. You still haven't given me a reason.” “Why can't a guy just go to a nice cafe without getting questioned about it?” He asked taking another sip and peering at Jay over the brim of his mug. “because you're right, no one our age wants to be up at this time at night, unless theyre at a party.” He sighed into his hot coco, sending rippled across the surface. “You are not going to give up on this are you.” Jay shook her head slightly and looked down at her lap surprised to see that she had brought her book over without even realising it. She traced the new spine with her index finger waiting for Sawyer to say something. She had started to space out when sawyer gasped. “What?” Jays voice was slightly scratchy because of the lack of use and alarmed tone. “That. Is my favourite book.” He was looking at it hungrily, with his lip between his teeth and hands tight around his mug. “Jules Vern hey?” Jay asked thankful that he appreciated it. “Journey to the centre of the earth. Its genius. I love it.” He grinned up at jay half of his face in the shadows becuase of the fairy lights. He looked like a mad man. “Just got it yesterday for the shelf.” Jay pointed over to the bookshelf and sawyer got up, still sipping on his drink to look at it. “You like reading?” Sawyer asked, running his hands along the spines of the books. “I love it. Mostly just fantasy and sci-fi, but I like a good horror book to.” “Huh. It sucks, books are going out of fashion, and people just don't like them anymore when you can watch tv.” “I know, barely any of my friends read and whenever I pull out a book they dont seem to get it. They always ask me why I read for fun...” Jay trailed off and gazed out the window, tucking her feet underneath her. When she looked back sawyer was sitting back in his chair squinting at her. “The reason im here is because I was at a party. My friend dragged me out and I was there til about one just reading with the cat curled up on my lap. I got kicked out by some drunk collage student. He actually kicked me.” Sawyer rolled up his jeans to reveal a deep gnash on his shin, and Jay scrunched up her nose and went to get the first aid kit (it was usually there for herself when she smashed a glass and cut herself, but there was always that one customer). “I dont think he meant to but he said I was ‘to much of a boring character’ to be at a party, so I left. My friend was still at the party, already drunk so I started to walk home, but...I kind of got lost. Anyway I found my way back into town and I realized id never been to this part of it, with the cobble streets and alleyways, you know what im talking about right?” Jay nodded. “Well I walked around here for like 2 hours and its so beautiful. I can't believe I've never been here. It looks like Rome almost. Everything was just quiet and I was the only one out. I dont know, its weird to see a town that is usually really busy all quiet and dark. SO now im here. Does that answer your question?” “So you’ve never been to the older part of town?” Jay questioned, awestruck. “Nope.” “Well I can tell you one thing, its way cooler then the new parts with the big buildings and tall condos. Also the people are more fun here, no offence, but you must be filthy rich to have never been here.” Jay spoke a tiny bit louder then she had before, unzipped the first aid kit at the table. Sawyer had an amused smile on his face and tried not to laugh. “Actually, I just moved here 3 months ago, and we are probably living in one of the worst apartments in town.” “Oh. Shit.” Jay whispered. “sorry about that whole thing, ive kinda had bad experiences with the richer people...” “but....” Sawyer edged her on. “My grandma just recently died, and she had a lot more money then she should have living down here. I inherited it all, so I guess I can't really be talked.” Jay spilled some peroxide on sawyers cut and he hissed. “Oh hush you’re fine.” Jay rolled her eyes. “Im sorry about your grandma, you were close?” Jay nodded, and started to gingerly wrap gauze around his leg. The two were quiet as she finished up. “You didnt have to do that.” Sawyer said in a low voice. “Actually, if a customer has an open wound in the shop, I have to clean he or she up because it is not sanitary for the food and it could disturb other customers.” Jay smiled slyly as she went to put away the kit. “Oh so im not special then.” Sawyer mumbled with false disapointment laced in his voice. “Nah its just the rules I'm following. You want some more?” Jay pointed to the empty mug and had already started to make it before he could answer. Sawyer got up and leaned against the counter with a sleepy smile plastered on his face. “Do you always work this shift?” “Nah just when I dont have school the next day.” Jay Handed him another cup and started to make one for herself. “So what books do you like?” She asked, tucking a strand of hair that came loose from her pony tail behind her ear. “Science fiction all the way. I guess I read some fantasy, but for the science aspect of it.” “Do ya like Harry Potter or lord of the rings at all?” “I mean ive read all of them but none of them could be real, so theyre not my favourite.” “Then why do you read books?” “What?” He tilted his head to the left. “People usually read books to escape, or to travel into a different reality. If you dont like books that can't be real, why do you read?” “For knowledge. I read to know things. To learn new things, but I guess your right in a way. I mean yeah, thats part of it. I guess I never thought of it that way but now...” He trailed off and looked slightly confused. “I think thats exactly why I read. I always do it when im stressed or upset.” His eyes were wide and he had a half smile on his face. “well now I feel stupid.” Sawyer muttered looking down at his hot coco a smal lsmile still in place. Jay laughed. “Dont, you’re not the one who works the night shifts just because you like it here more then your own home.” “Tough home life?” Sawyer looked up “Yes. No. Not really sometimes its great sometimes its not. I just like it here. Especially when its quiet.” Sawyer nodded, licking whipped cream off of his finger. “Is this your music?” He jerked his head up, indicating to the soft jazz music sounded from them. Jay blushed and bit her lip. “Yeah, I don’t usually listen to jazz, but I made a playlist for the cafe. I dont know I thought it was nice.” “Its great actually, you have nice taste in jazz.” “Ha. Thanks most people don’t appreciate how much better it can make a room feel, music I mean.” Jay let them back over to her corner, this time taking her seat back, forcing him to raise his eye brows and sit in the seat across from her. “Sawyer there is something you should know.” All of a sudden Jays face went very serious and sawyers smile slid off his face. “This seat right here, with the mint behind me and the window beside me, this is my seat.” Jay grinned and plucked a mint leaf off of the garden wall, and slipped it into her mouth. Sawyer started to laugh but was cut off suddenly by a blinding light. “Whoa...” Sawyer shielded his eyes and looked out the window to see the marvellous sunrise taking action. Jay closed her eyes and let the warm glow wash over her like she had swum up to the top of the ocean and had broken its subtle surface for the first time. Sawyer lowered his arm and blinked a few times. Everything had turned golden in the cafe, and he watched the dust particles dance in the sunbeams. He wondered briefly why the sun didnt always cast this glow on everything. He looked at Jay, who still had her eyes closed, and started to grin stupidly. Jay opened her eyes a moment later, to see sawyer staring at her. “What? Whats wrong?” “Are you bliss?” He asked drunkly, with a ridiculous smile. Jay scrunched up her face and chucked the balled up napkin she had at him. He tried to duck but it ended up hitting him in the forehead and falling into the last of his hot coco. “Shut up.” She muttered. “You really love it here.” “Yeah, its like my panic room. I have everything I will ever need right here.” “Hey I still don’t know your name.” He pipped. “Oh yeah, its Jay.” “Nice to meet you Jay.” “You too sawyer.” “Whats with the mint leaves?” Sawyer asked stoping her halfway from slipping another into her mouth. “try one.” She passed him the leaf and he raised his eyebrows in uncertainty. Jay rolled her eyes.”Just do it you wimp its a leaf, its not gonna bite you back.” Sawyer glared at her but couldnt keep a smiled from coming across his face. “It tastes sweeter then I thought.” He said after eating it. “Thats because I grow them, and I grow them with amazing talent and spectacular care.” This time sawyer rolled his eyes. “Does that mean you like to cook too?” He asked. Jay started to giggle. “If i ever try to cook anything but grilled cheese again, I will definitely burn the town down. Plus its grimy, you have to clean after, even if you dont even make it to the final product because you keep eating the ingredients separately.Its a waste of my time.” Sawyer laughed but then put n a fake face of seriousness. “Cooking is a science.Baking is an even better science. I can't believe you, you make drinks right? You should love it.” “Drinks are different. I know exactly what everyone likes by just the way they say hello, even if I dont know them. Drinks are someones personality. Food is just food.” “I bet I could change your mind on that.” Sawyer muttered slightly distracted. “And hows that?” “I could cook you a meal at my house say 7ish?” Sawyer didnt really know what he was saying, but when he realized it, his eyes widened and he whipped around to see Jay looking at him with a half smile on her face and her head tilted to the side. She had pulled her legs up criss cross and her strawberry red hair was coming out of her pony tail at the front and framing her face perfectly (It was just grown out of bangs). Sawyer licked his lips nervously. Jay let out a short breathy laugh and then leaned forward, tugging sawyer towards her by the neck of his hoodie. She pressed her lips against his softly, they were chapped and tasted of mint and chocolate and sawyer melted into her, reaching up to touch her chin just slightly. He had closed his eyes leaning in, and he opened them just halfway, to look at her freckles and her closed eyes through his glasses. He smiled on her lips and so did she. Thats when he heard a word Christmas bell go and the gruff huffs of a man. “What does a guy have to do to get a drink around here?” The man asked. Jay fell out of her seat. She clumsy stood up, flushed, and then bent down to whisper ‘triple shot americano with whipped cream’ into his ear. For a minute he was confused. “morning sir what can I get you today?” Sawyer turned around to watch Jay serve the man. “So you're the barista here? Maybe you should be waiting tables instead of making out with your boyfriend.” Sawyer looked around at the spotless tables and empty chairs, enternally screaming. “Im very sorry I will keep that in mind.” Jay still had a smile fixed on her face. “Ill get a triple shot americano with whip.” Sawyers jaw dropped and Jay grinned to herself as she started to make the drink. A few moments later Jay passed the man his drink as he payed but the man didn't move. “Are-are those rainbow sprinkles?” He stuttered, his eyes flipped from the drink to Jay. “Yup, just a touch I thought id add.” All of a sudden the mans face split into a toothy grin. “Thank you miss.” He croaked. “Have a nice day sir.” She smiled again. And the man put a 5 dollar bill in the tip jar. Once he left, Jay sat back down with sawyer. “Thats how its done Sawyer. I earn money by making peoples day and its a talent few have.” Jay had a smitten air around her and sawyer grinned. This time sawyer pulled her in for a kiss, and she let out a gasp of surprise. Then he scribbled down his address on a napkin, paid for his drinks, and put 6 dollars in the tip jar, just to one up the man. “You didnt really just do that. Tell me, I'm not going to date a guy who is that petty.” Jay crossed her arms. “Shut up Jay I'm a big teddy bear inside.” And with that sawyer left the cafe and Jay, who had never felt like her own little panic room could do anything more for her. *** a lot of spelling errors and run on sentences but hey, to my 2 followers out there what did you think

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lifeinstereo-blog1 · 8 years ago

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My Second Cochlear Implant Surgery.

I recently had my second CI surgery almost two weeks ago. Obviously, with all surgeries, planning is required. I had to go through a whole process before the surgery, I just couldn’t go to my surgeon and say “Hey, I want another cochlear implant” and then be approved for it on the spot and go in to surgery. It doesn’t work like that.

Back a few years ago during a routine-check-up with my audiologist, at the end of the visit, he pulled out a box that had a dummy model of a new processor called the Naida CI. He showed this to me and my dad and brought up the idea of me possibly getting a second cochlear implant. The Naida was a lot lighter and thinner than the processor I was using, the Harmony. My audiologist talked about the different colors and features and programs and it all seemed pretty snazzy. I left that day thinking that it was cool, and talked with my dad about possibly getting my left ear implanted. I talked with my mom about it too. However, at the time, things were busy and we didn’t take the idea of implanting me seriously. This happened a few times over the years. Eventually, I was able to drag my mom to the audiologist with my dad and I so she (and also my dad and I) could ask more questions about that process as well as re-implanting (that’s for waaayyy later, if need be.) me. After that, appointments were made for further evaluation.

After that, I can’t remember the exact order of appointments, but I saw my audiologist and my ENT (ear, nose and throat, or otolaryngologist, for you science nerds) doctor. At my audiologist’s appointment, I was subject to hearing tests as part of determining my candidacy. I was internally groaning at the thought of taking more hearing tests—I get so frustrated when I can’t get everything right. But it turns out that it was the easiest thing ever since it was an unaided (code for no cochlear implant on) test. They took off my CI and I’m not sure exactly what they played, words, sentences, or pitches since I’m deaf as a post without it on. Then, they gave me hearing aids and I assume they cranked them up as high as possible and did a pitch test. I just sat there, knowing I wouldn’t have to raise my hand if I heard a sound. My audiologist knew it too, so the both of us just went through it for formalities and proof for the insurance company. However, something funny happened. The hearing aids and the sound booth’s speakers together must have been so loud that for certain pitches I could actually feel my eardrums vibrating but couldn’t hear anything. That had never happened before.

At my ENT appointment (their office is on the same floor where audiology is, just that it’s off to the left where audiology is off to the right. Handy to have them both in one place.) I met up with my ENT doctor for a cochlear implant consultation. It had been years since I saw him, which was for my tonsils. Before that, I had seen him for my first cochlear implant surgery since he was the surgeon. Questions were asked about my general health, medications I take, vitals were taken, etc. My ears and throat were checked. My doctor sat down and told me a few things. He started off with the fact that the second implant was not going to be like the first. It most likely would not perform at the level my right one was at even though the left one would be cutting-edge technology, due to the amount of time my left auditory nerve and brain had gone without stimulation. My right side had gone over 2 years without stimulation before I was implanted, but then got implanted and used for 16 years. The left side had nothing for 18 years. Even with newer materials, design, and processing strategies, the new implant’s performance would not match or exceed my old one. My doctor also told me that I could get a wide range of results. I could get the best potential out of it (this potential would still not match my old implant) or I could get very little potential. It was essentially gambling, but with the expectation that the benefits would be better than the risks, since my doctor was willing to do the surgery. I understood this. I agreed that I still wanted to go ahead and do the CT scans. An appointment was made for a CT scan of my temporal bones.

One of the images from my CT scan appointment. This is just a general image of the skull, the structure that was of most interest in the scan was my left cochlea. Images showed that my left cochlea was clear and of normal anatomy. the bright white structure in the scan above is actually my right cochlear implant. It is a magnet, receiver coil, and small computer encased in a ceramic shell that looks like a square with a rounded side. The electrode array is visible. It is light gray and almost blends in with the large gray area but is still noticeable. For those of you curious about the bright white line where my teeth are, it’s my bonded retainer that I got after my braces were removed!

Since my cochlea was good to go, requests for a cochlear implant surgery and cochlear implant were sent to my insurance company. After a while, they approved it and my surgery was set for early August since I was excited and wanted it ASAP. However, the date ended up being too close to the start of college for me, so I decided to push it back to late December, when I’d be home for over a month for winter break. I’d have plenty of time to heal. (In hindsight, I’m extremely glad I made the change. There was no way I could’ve gone through orientation in the state that I was in after surgery! Orientation was hot, busy as hell, and there was SO much walking.) That proved to be a little sticky with the insurance company since during that time my insurance was also renewed, but it was done and the December surgery would be covered. My first semester of college kept me busy so I didn’t have much anxiety or thoughts about the surgery.

However, there was a time during the summer before I started college where I was very unsure about my decision to get a second cochlear implant. I had been doing fine with my right implant, and I had begun to really identify as a Deaf person and feel like part of the Deaf community (short explanation: deaf is used for the medical view of deafness, and Deaf is used in reference to the culture) and was worried about how others would view me if I got another cochlear implant. I feared that they would think I wanted to become more “hearing”, that I didn’t cherish the culture or want to be part of it. There is a small section of the Deaf community that are very against cochlear implants for a number of reasons, but that is for another potential post in the future. But, that wasn’t the case. I still call myself d/Deaf even with my cochlear implant on. My CI is not a cure—I take it off and I’m instantly deaf. With it on, I’m essentially hard of hearing. I still sign with it on. I know personally that the CI doesn’t make any difference in me being part of the Deaf community. I was just afraid of how others would see it though. Me being me, I made a list of pros and cons of getting the implant. I talked to some of my friends who were hearing, deaf with cochlear implants, and very strongly Deaf (they rejected cochlear implants and hearing aids for their self). All of them supported me, regardless of what decision I made. That made me feel better that the people I knew had no objection to me getting another cochlear implant. At that point I was like 98% sure I was going to get it. When I was at RIT (my college) I saw a huge variety of d/Deaf/HoH people using a wide range of assistive equipment. I had captioning and interpreters. I had the most access in my life. It was nothing like I had back at home. This made me kind of waver in my decision to have a second implant because there was just so much support I could get. I hesitated during the fall months and reevaluated the pros and cons. I locked in my decision one hundred percent in early December. I was going ahead with the implant.

I had pre-op a week before my surgery, where my height, weight and vitals were taken for anesthesia reasons. The general instructions for surgery were given to me via a pamphlet. I had to stop eating at midnight the night before surgery. I could have clear fluids up to four hours before. No makeup or jewelry could be worn that day. My surgeon specifically requested I have my hair pulled up so shaving it would be easier. I asked more questions like what specific electrode array that would be used, how much hair would be shaved, if I was going to be fully intubated or not, if the magnet position would be symmetrical with the other one, if they were going to use a facial nerve monitor, etc. I left feeling good about my surgery. I knew not to psych myself out. It was just surgery, I’d seen countless CI surgery videos on YouTube. It would be like closing my eyes and then opening them and the surgery would be done before I knew it. Plus, I trusted my surgeon. He had done my first CI and it went smoothly, so I already had a foundation of trust with him. This time around I (not my parents) was able to personally judge his character and trustworthiness. He passed—he is a really sweet guy who definitely knows his stuff, and is someone I might ask to shadow someday!

The day of surgery I woke up at around 7:45 AM and got comfy clothes on. My family left the house around 8:30 since we had to be there at 9:45. My dad drove me, my sister, mom and aunt to the outpatient surgery center. We sat for a few minutes before I was called in. Once again, my height and weight were taken. An urine sample was also taken (since y’know, that’s required for all females who are capable of reproducing) and I was led to my room. I changed into a hospital gown and got into the bed. The nurse was really sweet and got me heated blankets since I’m pretty much perpetually cold. It took two tries to get the IV in but that was no biggie. During the end of the IV insertion, my surgeon came and talked with me while the nurse was poking around trying to get a vein to pop up. It was a nice distraction. I remember this conversation I had with him:

“What did you have for breakfast?” he said.

I was very confused as to why he asked that question because its obvious that I didn’t have anything, since that’s required for surgery and that’s pretty common sense for a surgeon and for me, too.

“Uh...Nothing?”

“Good. That was a trick question.”

Then I got why he asked it. I laughed. He left the room to go prepare for the surgery.

The IV was in and the nurse gave me some fluids. I could feel the cold liquid running up my arm. It was so weird. I could feel it run up to my shoulder before I could feel nothing as it warmed up and went into my heart and the rest of my body. At some point, a nurse came in and said that my surgeon was running ahead of schedule so my surgery would actually be sooner than expected. I talked with my parents for a few minutes and then met the circulating nurse that would be in the OR with the surgeon, then met the anesthesiologist. The anesthesiologist said he would be back soon to give me some medicine to relax me before they wheeled me in to the OR. I talked with my parents some more and then took off my CI and gave it to them to hold during my surgery. My glasses were already in a leather pouch the nurse had given me and was put with my clothes. Then a nurse popped in and said everything was ready for me. The anesthesiologist stuck to his word and was back to give me the “happy juice”. He did that and I felt fine for like three seconds and it started hitting me. My mom and dad kissed my forehead and sent me off. At that point things started to get foggy. I clearly remember my dad saying goodbye and my mom’s goodbye was a little hazy. Then, I only remember being wheeled down the hall and the doors of the sterile corridor opening and having a feeling of “OH SHIT THIS IS ACTUALLY HAPPENING”. Actually, a few hours after surgery, a random image of a square blue label that said “OR 5″ on it popped up in my head as well. That’s all I remember.

The next thing I know, I’m opening my eyes and I’m back in the same room I was in before. Only this time, I felt pressure around my head and a little pain inside my ear. I look over and see a cup on a little table. I pick it up and drink it. It’s apple juice.

“How’d you know I wanted apple juice?” I ask my mom. I was thinking either she just knew me really well or the nurse read my mind or something.

“You asked for it.”, Mom says.

“Oh. This stuff (the drugs they knocked me out with) is GOOD!”

My sister later told me that when I initially woke up 20 minutes after they wheeled me back in from the OR, I started coughing because they had removed the tubing from my throat (I did not have a complete tracheal intubation, they had put something in that only went down to my vocal cords, I cannot for the life of me remember the specific name my surgeon gave for the equipment in pre-op) and my mom and sister had started freaking out because I couldn’t cough. Coughing, sneezing and blowing my nose were banned because that messes with the air pressure in the ears. So, the nurse asked me what I wanted and got me apple juice to help alleviate the coughing. After that I must’ve passed out again and then came to and finally started drinking it or was awake but the medicine gave me amnesia. My mom told me that I kept repeating sentences 5-6 times, particularly whining about not being able to see the OR. I remember complaining about that around two times. I had been curious to see the OR because I had shadowed a few surgeons before and got to see different ORs so I was curious to see what this one looked like since they all vary a bit.

The nurse came back in and asked me if I was feeling nauseous or anything a few times. I said no, but my stomach did feel weird, like it was full or something. She gave me a little container in case I did vomit. I was going to object because I knew my body, but I told her better safe than sorry. She then asked me if I was in any pain. I said a bit, but it was nothing too bad. The inside of my ear hurt and felt like there was some pressure and throbbing. I was given some Dilaudid and that helped quite a bit. She said my vitals looked great and that I could go whenever I wanted. I just wanted to lay in my warm bed and chill for a bit. My dad went to start the car to warm it up so I had more time to relax. Eventually it was time to go. I changed back into my comfy clothes and walked slowly to the wheelchair. My legs felt a little weak, but still capable of walking. I was wheeled to the car and got in. My prescriptions for antibiotics and pain medicine were picked up and we left for home. I just rested in the car, trying to fall asleep but I couldn't.

This is the cochlear implant that I was implanted with. It is the Advanced Bionics HiRes 90K with the Mid-Scala electrode array. It is a clear silicone oval with two circles side by side in it. The circle on the left is a silver “O” that is the computer chip. The circle on the right is the receiver coil with the magnet in the center of the circle that the receiver coil creates. At the side of the silver “O” is the wire that curls into the tiny electrode array which is inserted into the cochlea. Looks VERY different from my other cochlear implant, huh? It’s amazing how much technology can change in 16 years.

My sister took a pic of me knocked out cold. I am laying in a hospital bed with multiple white blankets over me. My head is turned to the side, showing the mastoid dressing I am wearing (it is a pressure bandage made of gauze and cotton packing to keep swelling down and everything intact). My brown hair is pulled up into a ponytail so everything is neat and not falling down around the gauze. I am wearing a nasal cannula that is supplying oxygen.

After surgery I had to take medications. I was given Cephalexin, an antibiotic that I had to take three times a day for five days, and Hydrocodone (basically codeine) with Tylenol in it. There were times I considered taking the Hydrocodone but didn’t want to risk upsetting my stomach and vomiting and messing up my ear because even burping hurt the first night or two. I burped a lot when I was home after surgery. I believe that was from the air that was flowing from the tubing into my lungs, but some had flowed into my esophagus and down into my stomach, thus explaining why my stomach had felt weird and kind of full after surgery and why I was burping so much. Sleeping was a little hard, since I am mainly a side sleeper, so I was limited to sleeping on my right side or on my belly. I also kept my head elevated using a few pillows so it would help with the swelling. For pain and swelling I took Aleve for the first two or three days, then for the last 2/3 days I switched over to generic ibuprofen. I had some swelling on the second and third day around my temple and eye. On the fourth day (New Year’s Day!) I had some slight bruising around my eye.Most of the time the pain was very manageable, it was just the pressure that the stupid mastoid dressing was putting on the cartilage of my ear and it was hurting it. On the fourth day or so I had enough of it so I took a cotton ball and wedged it between the dressing and my ear. Relief. I was told to wear the mastoid dressing for at least five days. The ENT nurse told me to try to keep it on until post-op but I just could not wait until it was off because it was becoming itchier and itchier as my incision healed. Finally, I took it off late on the fifth day. It felt so good but also weird to have it off because I had actually gotten used to having it on. I actually went to the mall and the grocery store with it on. People stared but it was fine with me. I didn’t really give a flying flip. I kept the surgical tape over the incision after I removed the dressing though.

A day after I took off the dressing. There was a little bit of old blood on it but nothing concerning. I was surprised that amount of hair was shaved off since I was expecting a little less to be shaved. But it’s okay. At least it’s not half of my head like it was the first time around, The tip of my ear and a patch of skin above it was numb (currently, they still are numb but they’re slowly regaining feeling I think?) In the picture my hair is obviously messy because I didn’t want to mess with my pony tail and pull on the skin. The nurse had made the pony tail because before I went in to the OR it was more to the back of my head but then after surgery it was on the crown of my head and loose, obviously to protect the skin from any unnecessary pressure that may delay or complicate healing. You can see the side of my head and on the skin in front of my ear there is a purple spot from the marking pen that my surgeon used to mark the side where I was getting the implant (so many people kept asking and checking that it was the left side! They wanted to avoid accidentally opening up my right side by all means.) The tape is yellow (I hope it came that way, if it was originally white, then ew) and is in a bent line behind my ear. I am laying down on a bed, facedown so it was easier to take the picture. This was taken on January 3, 2017.

On the fourth I had post-op. I wasn’t sure what my surgeon used to close up, skin glue, absorbable sutures, or the old-fashioned typical sutures? A resident did most of the check-up and removed the tape. My surgeon had used the typical sutures so they needed to be removed. I was nervous that the suture removal would hurt, but the resident told me that it shouldn’t and would only feel weird with some pressure. She was right, and it was only towards the end that I felt any kind of pain, but it was very tolerable, like 1/10 on the pain scale. The skin around the incision and the inside of my ear were examined and the side of my head palpated for any air leaks. Everything was good, only that my skin around the incision was quite dry so putting antibiotic ointment on it was recommended to help with that. I asked how my surgery went, and my surgeon said that everything went smoothly and it took about 3 hours. I also asked him if we were in the fifth OR room and as soon as I asked that his face lit up because I had remembered. I explained to him my flashback after the surgery and how I wasn’t sure if I was right or just seeing things because I was hopped up on drugs. After post-op I was given the okay to wash my hair. I just couldn't scrub the incision vigorously or submerge my left ear underwater. I was extremely happy to take a shower and wash my hair because it had been over a week since I had last washed it and my hair was getting pretty cringeworthy.

My dad took this picture of the side of my head after the tape was removed. You can clearly see at least five dots in a somewhat straight line about two inches back from the incision. When I took off the dressing I noticed this and was curious what they were. I knew they were scabs, and thought maybe it was from a head clamp or something, but I knew that wasn’t it because head clamps are used for neurosurgery and not cochlear implant surgeries. I asked what made these scabs at post-op and the resident said they were from staples. Staples were used to secure the medical drapery and hair around the surgical site. The incision is kind of an S shape but more like a curved line. The sutures were tied up using one continuous black thread. This suture technique is called a running locked suture—it is good for wounds under some tension, specifically those on the skull and postauricular sulcus (the groove right behind the ear). The background is a desk with drawers in a doctor’s office.

After the sutures were removed. This picture is basically the same as the previous picture, except that the sutures are gone and the area around the incision is red from irritation due to pulling out the stitches. The skin around the incision is noticeably dry.

Another picture of the side of my head. My hair is pulled up into a high bun. As you can see the hair on the shaved section is growing back. Most of the dots have disappeared, there are only three left in a line behind the incision. The incision is mostly normal with red marks from the thread pushing into my skin perpendicular to the incision, like railroad tracks. This picture was taken on January 5, 2017.

Another picture of the incision. My hair is pulled back into a low side bun with a strand rolled and pinned back to exposed the shaved area. The shaved hair is ever so slightly longer. The incision is still in it’s slightly S shape with no redness. I am wearing a dark green plaid shirt with a collar. The background is my bathroom, with the wall painted a light blue and a green curtain with white flowers all over it to the left. This picture was taken on January 8th, 2017.

So there it is, my entire surgery process from when I first started thinking about it to pretty much almost today all summed up in one post! I will try to take more pictures as time goes on so you can see how the incision is healing up. I’m sure it will heal up great. My other one did, I actually never realized I had a scar from my first CI surgery up until a few years ago!

Ashley

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