#and i said oh yes i do i have a bunch of symptoms and am in a lot of pain! and they said just drink a lot of water and call back next week

[shinysteph]

Cannot sleep because kidneys hurt so bad!!!

[blitheringbongus]

So I recently found a Drabble I made about this post I made about my AU of Mumbo

It’s about Mumbo and his husband dealing with Mumbo being a vampire <3

Tw: Bunch of mentions about God and a few about Blood Letting

Enjoy? Or not

„My dear, eternal life wasn’t intended for humans to be lived,“

The man, his love, had said. Rough and scarred hands gently cradling the fresh vampires head. „Not how God intended it to be, at last,“

„Then why am I like this? If not for God to have intended?“ His fragile frame had responded. He felt weak. His body struggled to pump blood through his veins, it was clumping together and ceasing as the days passed, and he was hungry, so hungry. How cruel God could be.

„My love,“ the human responded, Mumbo had forgotten his name, the memory was too old, but he’s never forgotten who this human was, and what he meant to him. „This,“ the human looked sorrowfully at Mumbos sickly face, at the deep purple, almost black, veins laying still, „Is because not a creature of God has touched you, but a creature of darkness. Of the night.“

He stroked his thumb gently over Mumbos cheek, wiping away a tear. „You’ve been diseased, my love, with forever life.“

The raven haired man- Creature? Monster? Shuddered.

If God truly was the creator of all, then they were cruel to create the night creatures. What kind God would do such a thing, if not to punish the wretched?

„I am wretched,“ „You aren’t,“

He looked the human in his eyes, and they held nothing but kindness and love and deep, deep sorrow. „You’re still my love, you’re still-„

Mumbos memory always faded whenever someone mentioned his previously owned name, it was frustrating.

„I won’t leave you, not until you’ve tasted the last breath of air on your living tongue,“ Mumbo had said back then, and he meant it.

„I don’t doubt it a second.“

And Mumbo knew this human was scared. Not of him, but of growing old with him. They had many talks, the following years.

The human, his human, was afraid of Mumbos sorrow, watching him growing old and grey, and Mumbo staying the same as the day he got diseased.

But the years they spent, they were good years.

They lived together in a cabin in the woods, having moved out of their Victorian town, there wasn’t a slither of a chance the people wouldn’t hunt him down and call him a nasty hag, a devils bride, so his love and he decided to leave as soon as the physical symptoms started appearing.

The two hunted together, and they cooked together, and Mumbo couldn’t eat the finished meals but he was always able to suck the blood out of the hunted prey.

They never hunted humans, not in a million years. It didn’t matter how many folk tales there were of vampires only hunting humans and nothing else, Mumbo could live off of the animal blood.

Though it kept him going, it wasn’t exactly healthy for him. It didn’t keep him full for long, and always kept him yearning and weak for the blood of another.

Deep down, he was still human. He may be classified as a vampire, but at the end of the day, he was simply diseased, not changed into a monster. It took him quite some time to realize, his lovers reassurances and gentle nature having helped a lot with it.

The two always talked about their issues together. Whenever something was bottling itself up, the other would notice and try to gently push one another to open up.

One of these things included Mumbos need for human blood. His love didn’t know about wether or not Mumbo could only thrive off of animal blood, but he certainly knew something was wrong, and his love was never if barely satisfied with his so called meals.

He gently pushed him to talk about it for months and months until Mumbo finally confessed.

„I have morals,“ „Yes?“ „I would never feed on a sentient being,“ „Oh,“ and Mumbo could see the cogs twist and turn in his lovers face. „Have you had urges?“

Mumbo shifted slightly under their shared bed sheets, it was night, and he was more hungry than ever.

„Too many.“

And Mumbo left it at that, he just needed to confess it.

„You could feed on me?“

Looking back, this was the most ballsy statement Mumbo has ever heard from anyone before. At least conscidering the context. Sure, he fed on a couple of the hermits nowadays to stay healthy and all, but that’s because they all knew just how much Mumbo could take before dizziness or anything set in.

Plus, if he ever went too far, they could always respawn! Not that Mumbo ever did go that far.

But the point is, research about blood letting and how much a vampire needs a day to stay healthy is readily accessible to the hermits and himself, so it was safe.

Back then? Not so much.

He and his love had no idea what was conscidered safe and what not, so the fact that he’d just offer letting Mumbo feed on him was the most trusting, romantic, and stupid decision he’s ever heard be made from anyone in his life time and following. And he loved him so much more for it.

„My dear,“ „My love?“ „I’m not sure if I should, I’m not sure if I could,“

[lovelyrocker]

Consequences Part Five(end)

RPF

Warnings: Talk of Cheating, STD, HIV, Angst, Language, Medical Setting, Shot/Injection

Characters: Timothee Chalamet, Reader

Pairings: Timothee Chalamet x Reader

Word Count: 1,795

Part Four

You were sitting in the familiar office again, the smell of antiseptic thick in the air. Timothee squeezed your hand between his as his leg bounced with anxiety. You squeezed his hand between your two and he looked over at you.

“It’s gonna be okay.” You tell him with an assuring smile.

He gives a tight lipped smile back to you. His brow was pulled together with concern as you watched him take a visible deep breath. He looks down at his hand sitting in your lap, wrapped between yours. You could feel the anxiousness through him.

“You-” He looks up to you, nibbling his lower lip. “You’ll love me the same?” He struggled to keep his eyes on yours. “Won’t you?”

“Oh Timmy!” You slip your hand behind his neck and pull him to you, his forehead resting on yours. “I am not going anywhere.” You press a kiss to his forehead. “If you have this, we will figure things out.” You lift your head, making sure he is looking at you. “They have made so many advancements in the medical field when it comes to HIV.” You reached, fixing his t-shirt collar that was bunched up. “I’ve done my research.” You tap the underneath of his chin. “Now, they can take your sperm and my egg and fertilize it, then implant it in my uterus and voila, baby Chalamet. No infection passed.”

“Really?” His face softened. “They can do that?! You won’t get infected? What about the baby?”

“They learned that the infection only gets passed through the mother. So I would have to have it to pass it to the baby. You can’t pass it to the baby that way.”

“So we can still have a family?!” His voice sounded so hopeful as he said this, your heart broke and swelled at the same time.

The door opened and you both looked up at the doctor as he walked in. Timothee’s hand gripped your hand tightly. You soothingly rubbed the back of his hand with your thumb. He swallowed hard as the doctor rounded his desk.

“Hello, Timothee. Y/N.” He gave a polite nod in your direction and you returned the gesture. He sits behind his desk and looks at Timothee, clearing his throat. “I have good news and bad news, Timothee.”

“O-okay.” He looks to you then  to the doctor as if making sure you were still there..

“But the bad news is actually good news.” The doctor continues, opening the folder in front of him.

“What? What do you mean?” You ask with the shake of your head.

The doctor looks at Timothee. “Tim, you don’t have HIV.”

The relief that went through Timothee was seen and heard with the exhale of the breath he was holding. Tears were filling his eyes as he looked at you.

“But,” The doctor spoke and you and Timothee looked back at him. “You do have syphilis.”

“What?!” You both say in unison.

“A pretty advanced case, actually.” The doctor added.

“I- I don’t understand.” Timothee shook his head. “Syphilis? I don't have any symptoms of syphilis.”

“As I said, yours is pretty advanced. You’ve had it for a while, so you wouldn’t have symptoms now. You have three stages of syphilis.” The doctor began to explain, you and Timothee listening carefully. “First stage symptom would have been enlarged lymph nodes near the groin. Small, painless sores on the skin, sometimes in the mouth or sore throat. Second stage, where you are, would be small, reddish-brown sores on the skin, sores in the mouth, vagina, or anus, fever, swollen lymph glands, weight loss, hair loss, headache and muscle aches, extreme tiredness.”

“So me being so worn down wasn’t from over working?” He asked the doctor.

“That didn’t help.” The doctor explained. “This explains your earlier results and your white blood cell counts as well.”

“So you are saying when I had sore throats and what I thought were ulcers in my mouth from too much spicy food, it was syphilis?”

“More likely than not, yes.” The doctor  answered bluntly.

“And he’s been having this for how long?” You ask, looking at the doctor in disbelief.

“Hard to say how long exactly, but like I said, he is in stage two of the infection so it's been awhile.”

“Like four years ago, maybe?” You ask again.

“With these levels,” The doctor nods. “And lack of symptoms, currently, yeah.” Timothee looks back at you with guilt all over his face knowing exactly when and who he contracted it from.. “You are lucky we caught this now.” The doctor continued. “In stage three of this infection, after so many years and prolonged infection you end up with organ damage and some people have died from this.”

“What do we do now?” You look to the doctor. “How do we find out if there is damage and how do we treat it? How do we get him healthy again?”

“Luckily,” The doctor stands, walking to the opposite side of his office. “Treatment is very simple.” He grabs a pair of white gloves, slipping them on. “One injection of long-acting Benzathine penicillin G, in your buttock will cure you.” The doctor Grabs a syringe and a vial of meds. “Do you want her to step out?”

“That’s it?” Timothee asks, turning in his chair to face the doctor. “One shot and I’m cured?”

“That’s it. You will have to hold off on unprotected sex for a few weeks, but yes.” The doctor smiles at Timothee. “That’s it.”

“Hell yes!” Timothee stands, unbuckling his belt and jeans.

You grimace when the doctor injects him, seeing the clear discomfort of his face. “You okay?”

“The burn in my ass cheek is worth it knowing I didn’t fuck up everything.” Timothee tells you with soft features and relief in his eyes.

“Make an appointment with the front desk to come back in a few weeks for recheck and again in three months to repeat blood tests.” The doctor tells Timothee before he walks out.

Timothee is quiet on the drive home. You can tell his butt is sore from the shot, which the doctor said was normal. You were making his favorite lasagna for dinner when he walked through the front door. “Hey, love.” You smiled up at him. “I was just about to text you and tell you dinner was in the oven.” You shut the oven.

Timothee walks over to you and grabs you by the waist, kissing you deeply. Your rear hits the counter as you place one hand on the counter top to catch yourself and the other on his face. He has not kissed you this intimately since the night he left to go to that after party.

You bring your other hand to his face as you let him kiss your lips hungrily. “Marry me.” He whispers over your lips.

“What?” You pull away.

He backs away with his brow pulled together in worry. “I mean- I-” He shoves his hands in his pocket. “Fuck, that wasn’t supposed to come out like that.” He pushes his hair from his face, turning around. He walks away a bit then turns back to you. You’re standing there in complete confusion and shock.

“Did you just ask me to marry you by mistake?”

“I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.” Timothee says as the frustration sinks into him deeper. “I- damn it. Okay, let me try this again.” He runs his hands across his face in agitation.

You grab his hands. “Baby,” He looks at you. “Breathe.” You watch him take a deep breath. “Okay now start from the beginning.” You push his hair from his face with a soft smile.

“I love you.” He says softly.

“I love you, too, baby.” You stroke his cheek.

“I don’t deserve you.”

“Tim-”

“No,” He takes your hands. “Listen.” He pulls you to the living room and sits you down on the couch. “Just listen, please.” You close your mouth and nod, letting him speak. “I don’t deserve you because I disrespected you and broke your heart when I cheated. I remember when we started dating you said the one thing you don’t forgive is cheating. That it was a deal breaker for you.” He took another breath. “And yet, you were gracious enough to forgive me. To give me another chance. A chance I don’t deserve. Then you stood by me through something that most would walk away from.” His eyes began to fill with tears but he blinked them away. “I know how much I’ve messed up and how much it took for you to keep loving me. I’m- i’m not blind to how I’ve hurt you. And for you to go through that hurt alone,” He shook his head. “I am so fucking sorry, baby.”

“I know, baby.” You gently stroke his cheek with your thumb. “I know you, Timmy. I know you well enough to know you made a mistake.”

“And I am so grateful for that love.” He takes your hand and kisses your palm. “It made me realize that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. That you are it for me. I thought I knew it before but now I have no doubt that you are meant to be my wife.” He looks you deep in the eyes as you try your damndest not to cry. “I’ve been looking at rings and trying to find the right time to ask. But when I walked in and saw you and- and kissed you it just-”

“Came out.” You finished with a chuckle. “You could never keep a secret, Timmy.” He laughed, looking at your hands in his. “This is as good a time as any.”

“What? To propose?” He gives a head tilt. “Without a ring?”

“No,” You chuckle. “To tell you I’m pregnant.”

“What?!” His eyes are huge.

“I- I uh- didn’t go to the doctor to get retested a few weeks ago. It was to verify a pregnancy.” You stand going to the drawer, pulling out an ultrasound picture.

Timothee takes the photos in his hand. “I- I don’t understand.”

“That night in Paris a few days before you found out.” You explain.

“You knew this whole time?” He looks up at you.

“No. I started feeling sick about two weeks ago. I thought my missed period was stress. I was too early to read in blood work. If I would have waited a week, it would have shown up.”

“So you are telling me that the quickie in the hotel room the night before the showcase?”

You nod with a giggle. “Yeah.” You push his hair from his face. “Not all consequences are bad.”

[the-s1lly-corner]

Hey man, its me again~

(If i may overwhelm you or anything just say so, i sometimes dont understand the limits of being too annoying)

So. Hehm. I got covid. And. I was sick for a few weeks but then yesterday it became very, very bad(i presume because of stress and overexaustion, as well as due to not taking care of myself properly..) to the point of not being able to hold a bottle. I felt kinda horrible, but until night that was only the start. I could only lay in bed, overheated, and ended up falling asleep midday and having hallucinations/nightmares at night. I woke up in tears after a supposedly silly goofy dream(caine×kinger (i just knew they were a couple) arguing, well, more like kinger being very, very mad for some reason and caine looking at him with his pathetic sad eyes while trying to argue back/explain himself. Also there was zooble looking all smug at The Camera like in Office in a way only an asshole weedsmoker would do, all relaxed. Oh also it was a Zombie Apocalypse au and kinger just had a big booty for no reason) and hyperventilating, it was horrifying for some reason(maybe because i love the guys... royalteeth<3). I was Very Delirious.(i am a bit better after finally being taken seriously and given medication after

Anyway i said all this only for you to know about the dream, i liked it very much in the end, yummy angst.

So i was wondering, maaay i please req a worried itward trying to force sick!reader to go to bed but they bluntly refuse because "I have WORK to do and people to TAKE CARE of! I don't care, am just.. a little under the weather, yes, but its nothing a warm tea later wont fix. So i need to- no, i am perfecty capeable-" <- said before falling over a coffe table half dressed, almost landing on Mr. Midnights fluffy butt. When they finally give in they're kinda clingy and a bit whiny("..do you still love me?"; *stumbles out of the room to get to itward who decided to get them some tea, scaring him shitless in the process* "can we hold hands? Please")

(The dream and other info has nothing to really do with the request and has no purpose but to tell you abt the silly scenario, you can just disregard it. Anyway i'm going to sleep good noight!!♡♡♡)

Itward x sick!stubborn!Reader!

IM SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LOKG TO GET TO THIS SOBS

That said I hope youre feeling better man :( sickness sucks!! I hate sickness!! Beats up the sickness!!!

Also I know I already said this when you checked your request status, but you're not overwhelming me or annoying me!! Get down with the silliness!!

Also look at this goofball, how he almost falls

Loser

(Gently holds)

I think that he would treat most sicknesses on the same level of seriousness; like sure he wouldn't panic if you had a simple fever or cold.. but he's going to be firm on you not overworking yourself

In fact its likely that he will bar you from chores and work for at least an entire day after all your symptoms die down

Very quickly notices that something is wrong with you. I mean itward looks over a bunch of kids and kids get sick all the time, so I think he can see the signs even before you're fully ill

Asks you if anything is wrong and offers to do some of your chores around the ship (and that's assuming he even assigned you any) as well as offer to run the errands you needed to do that day

Gentle but firm when talking to you and trying to keep you in bed

Like gently pushing you back into bed and covering you up in a blanket or two

"Yes yes, I know dear that you've got work to do... but please, I need you to rest... can you do that for me?" And other similar pleas

Hes making you soup when you wobble in and ask if hes mad at you; because his tone sounded a little stressed when he last talked to you

He cant even answer before you face plant onto the floor of the ship...

Immediately rushes to your side; which likely only takes about two steps for him thanks to his long legs.. scoops you up and just

In this gentle quiet voice reassures you that hes not angry. A little stressed out for you, but not angry

Key words, "for you", not "by you"

I would say for comic value he would tie you to bed, but I feel even itward wouldnt go down to those extremes (and this man can get a little silly. I mean he literally locked Fran in a room so he could make her a surprise birthday party. Itward can get a little intense, I think)

No instead I think he would just stick by your side to ensure you're actually resting

One of admin favorite tropes; character b is sick/very tired and in bed, character a who just put them to bed goes to leave only for b to grab their sleeve/hand/arm/whatever to stop them and just. "Plesse stay"

That happens with you two, I think

And most likely, if itward doesn't have anything super time sensitive or important to do, he will stay with you

Besides, hes a skeleton from another reality. What are the chances that a human sickness can spread to him?

Well that's assuming it's a sickness from the third reality and/or one that cant jump species

But shhh

Itward pretty much becomes a mother hen and tries to prevent you from doing anything that may make your symptoms worse.. as well as caring for you via making you food, keeping you hydrated, and even carryout you around if your legs are too weak to support you

[sakurachan7734]

Happy little family

Chapter 2: sick boy

This will have synonyms and treatment of cancer which I just googled so let me know if I get any wrong 

5 years later

Tobor: what are you making mommy?

Kim: i’m making French toast sweetie 

Talus: can I have extra powdered sugar on mine?

Kim: yes sweetheart

Tobor: hay mommy I have been having very heavy night sweats and I have a weird lump on the back of my neck and I think I will throw up all the time and I started bleeding after I bumped my arm on something

Kim: oh really did you tell your mama?

Tobor: yea she took my temperature and I have a fever and called me out of school

Kim: so that’s why you’re still in your pajamas

Tobor: I thought mama would’ve already told you

Kim: ok I will talk to her once she gets home from work why don’t you get some rest? I will call you when breakfast is ready.

Tobor: ok mommy

A few hours later Kim calls Sally

Kim: hay are you on break right now? 

Sally: no what is it?

Kim: well tobor said that he isn’t feeling well and he has a lump on the back of his neck and he started bleeding after he bumped his arm and he feels like he’s gonna throw up and he’s having heavy night sweats 

Sally: he told me that too I’m a little worried that he has more then just a cold…..

Kim: Well what do you think he has?

Sally: well all the things he told us are symptoms of cancer…

Kim: what?! Isn’t that jumping to conclusions? 

Sally: yes I am aware that i’m gonna be jumping to something, but he hasn’t gotten better after a week he seems to be worse so I will talk to my boss and see if I can get a break for a doctors appointment for tobor

Kim: ok…..hopefully nothing is wrong with him

Sally: I hope so too…

The next day sally takes tobor to Linda for a check up

Tobor: why am I seeing grandma Linda?

Sally: oh for a cheek up you’ve been sick for a while and to get some test results back and we may need to scan you

Tobor: why?

Linda: to check to make sure nothing else is wrong with you

Tobor: ok….

Linda preform some test on tobor then leaves the room

Tobor: mama why are you crying?

Sally:* tearing up* oh you’re just very sick

Tobor: am I going to be ok?

Sally:* hugs tobor* yes you will be

Linda:* walks into the room holding some paper and crying* I have some…..very bad news tobor has cancer

Tobor: what’s that?

Sally:* starts crying and hugs tobor tightly* my baby!!

The next day

Tobor pov

I don’t know what’s going on but I’m in a hospital hooked up to a bunch of things I’m stirring something called chemo today or tomorrow my mommies and River won’t stop crying They brought me my dolly right now grandpa John is coming to visit and he’s bringing my favorite food

John:* walks in the room* hi buddy!

Tobor: hi grandpa!

John: I bought you and your dolly’s favorite food!

Tobor: thanks grandpa! Why couldn’t mommy’s come here?

John: they are both busy with work and your brother is at school

Tobor: ok how long am I going to be here for?

John: probably a few months up to a few years

Tobor: why? I’m just sick 

John: no….you are more than sick and have a really high chance of dying….

Tobor: what?! What’s wrong with me?

John: well…you have cancer….

Tobor: what’s that?

John: something that effects your body but their is no cure but there is treatment to get rid of it but in a lot of cases not a lot of people make it…

Tobor: will….i make it?

John: hopefully…..your mama doesn’t want to lose another family member….

Tobor: what?

John: nothing just eat your lunch

Tobor: ok grandpa

Linda: tobor are you ready for your treatment?

Tobor:* gets down from the bed* yes

Linda: ok follow me

Linda and tobor leave the room and Kim walks into the room

Kim: dad what’s wrong?

John: i told him….

Kim: why?!

John: I’m sorry but he wouldn’t stop asking and I didn’t want to keep telling him that he is just very sick

Kim:* under her breath* Calm down Kim it’s not that big of a deal

John: he went to go start chemo

Kim: good hopefully he will live

Meanwhile, with Linda and tobor

Tobor: how long do I need to take this?

Linda: until you are better you will be here every two or four days

Tobor: will this hurt?

Linda: you will feel tingling and burning numbness or pain but hopefully nothing too bad

Tobor: will I stay in the hospital?

Linda: yes until you are officially cancer free 

Tobor: ok what will happen if the medicine doesn’t work?

Linda: then….you may die

Tobor: I don’t wanna die!

Linda:* pats tobor on the head* don’t worry I will make sure that you will live

A few weeks later

Tobor: mama why is my hair falling out?

Sally: your medicine is making your hair fall out that’s why we should shave your head

Tobor: what do you mean my medicines making my hair fall out?

Sally: the waves of your medicine causes your hair to thin into it falls out and most people just end up cutting it all off

Tobor: ok…..where is mommy?

Sally: she is at practice

Tobor: practice for what?

Sally: mommy is a boxer and she has a big match in a few weeks

Tobor: I didn’t know mommy was a boxer

Sally: well she doesn’t do it as often because of you and your brother

Tobor: ok

Meanwhile with Kim

Boxing trainer: Kim you don’t have to do this you know you have a choice to fight you are pushing yourself to far

Kim: I know but isn’t the prize money about 20,000$? I could use that for tobors treatment

Boxing training: listen I get it but your going to pull something or end up in the hospital

Kim: I know but if it’s for my family I will do anything

Back with Sally and tobor

Tobor: why do you have to be out the house so often?

Sally; for my job

Tobor: what do you do?

Sally; I’m a scientist my job is demanding I had to convince my boss to let me see you for the day

Tobor: ohhh cool! What science do you do?

Sally: I work with a lot of dangerous chemicals to make something else that’s why I come home with a bunch of scars and burns

Tobor: ok mama where is talus?

Sally: At school he has some after school appointment today

Tobor: he won’t be able to visit?

Sally: no sorry he will visit tomorrow

Tobor: ok are you almost done?

Sally:* puts the scissors down and grabs a shaver* almost I have to shave your head now

Tobor: ok mama can I go play when you’re done?

Sally: yes but you have to wait for the playground to open at 7:00

Tobor: ok will mommy come visit?

Sally: maybe if she does it will be by the time you are asleep

Tobor: ok

Later at 10:46 at night

Talus: when will tobor be back?

Kim:* tucking talus in* no for a while

Talus: what does that mean?

Kim: he won’t be back for a few months or years treatment for what your brother can take a while

Talus: will tobor be ok?

Kim: well he has a very high chance of dying…..but hopefully he will be ok don’t think about it to much

Talus: ok good night mommy

End of chapter











[midnighteloquence]

watashi wa jisatsu shitaidesu

ignore whatever that means its a /nsrs

anyways! lets talk about why i no longer like friend d!

so im gonna split this rant into TWO PARTS!

Part A: things ive noticed myself/seen first hand

okay number one! they said that theyre diagnosed with bipolar, which THEY ARENT. first off, diagnosis are expensive asf no matter what youre trying to diagnose and im not being mean at all but just saying theyre on the free lunches plan soo, two diagnosis takes agessss and they just so happen to suddenly have one??

number two, theyll shit talk like everyone. i only started noticing recently that most of what comes out of their mouth is shit talk. and its fine if you have a lot to say about shitty people but then you immediately talk to them again as if you didnt just say you want to curb stomp them?? it gets confusing and ngl is really bitchy

number three! milked tf out of the fact that one of their friends said they might be autistic. which no. autism isnt something you should milk for attention!! and like the only symptoms they have are the depressive ones which USUALLY should lead you to believe that maybe you just have depression? idk im not a psychologist

on that note, they want to be a psychologist, yet doesnt understand why people act the way they do (like theyll shittalk people for things they cant fucking control) and also has rheir own problems? this would most likely be even more self destructive right? to have to solve others mental health before your own? idk im just thinking

also also they seem to care more about getting into relationships (AT THE AGE THEYRE AT) than grades which uh. yes i am literally on my knees yearning for a relationship but also at least im actually doing school and excelling academically ✌️

plus dont you gotta do good at school to be a psychologist?? thats like a really hard subject

Part B: things ive been told

this part is where it gets more blurry, since some isnt backed up (but most is dw!)

they dated C two years ago and used to do freaky shi to them at the back of the bus (make out, cuddle, touch thighs, etc), which a friend of ours i’ll call F saw first hand! um ew.

they trauma dumped on C first things first which uh

C and F would sit with each other a lot and talk alotttt because theyre both neurodivergent and nd people tend to go well and D got all pissy and like “me when my friends leave me out..” and so to shut them up (shut me up? by msi?) F told them that they might be autistic and they started milking tf out of it

told a bunch of people that C sa’d them which C did not! also told F that C’s sa story was fake and that C mentally and physically abused them (there are screenshot proof of D saying this btw!)

told people that im not autistic and that im faking it because im self diagnosed which THEY LITERALLY ARE + IVE DONE COUNTLESS HOURS OF RESEARCH ON AUTISM LEAVE ME ALONE

something ive noticed but isnt it weird that all their relationships lasted only a couple months? kinda says something

would manipulate people into taking their side by saying “oh dw its my fault not theirs!”

on that note their recent partner broke up with them AND GAVE A WHOLE ASS GOOGLE DOC ABOUT WHY WITH AMAZING EXPLANATIONS + SAYS A THOUSAND TIMES THAT IT ISNT THEIR FAULT, but C twisted it to make them the bad guy which tf he has the best moral compass of everyone ik stfu

jokes alot about substance abuse (which they do btw) but it just gets like “what am i supposed to say?”

ON THAT NOTE OF NOT KNOWING WHAT TO SAY they texted F that they tried killing themselves and F responded with an “oh” because tf are rhey supposed to say to that?? (F told me that they were literally crying when they saw that)

was a terrible friend to F, F noticed and cut off ties (good for them!! They have so much courage because i could legit never i love them for that 💪💪) and then they proceeded to send a lengthy apology which was all bs btw!

ive been told that they faked their trauma, substance abuse, and their eating disorders, but tbh im not sure if that’s true or not (considering ive seen texts theyve gotten from their mum about eating)

minor but they say theyre goth but dont even listen to the music which is the whole point! and also doesnt follow the political opinions of goth!

(did the same with punk, btw!)

not sure if true or if C said this to save their own ass but apparently D got C to shit talk me (i talked about in an earlier rant) which errr…

Secret Part C: small details

this section is in bullet points!

insulted F “jokingly” to the point they had huge gender dysphoria

thought F had a crush on their bf (at the time) when F’s literally a lesbian

not only a pathological liar but a inconsistent one!

okay this is kinda hypocritical but they follow sh blogs that show cvts

+ says the cuts are cute (which is something i dont do. i actually dont even follow them but from time to time i’ll scroll through and want to vomit /nav)

literally gave me a step by step tutorial on how to purge

not lying!

complained about their bf not kissing them in public (which is something you talk to your bf about not me! + boundaries fucking exist?)

very minor but alot of the stuff they like its mostly because it got popular on tt

will say shit like “ive only been catcalled like three times in this outfit!” which no ew + gave me a massive insecurity that im not pretty enough! choose your words wisely!

so to sum it all up theyre a terrible human being and im glad i dont talk to them anymore! thanks for reading this lengthy post!

[umnitsa]

Ok, this is gonna get beautifully weird but I do not care.

For I am a fangirl and an IT manager, I've been studying this shit (management and leadership) for 15 years and fuck, I love The Office. In the process of checking cameo (I'm brazilian, there isn't a service like that in brazil and it's an interesting product!), I found Andy Buckley's page.

David Wallace. Fuck, I loved that character. And that got me thinking 'why? Why do I have this reaction to my ADHD possibly autist brain getting suddenly reminded of him?'

I watched The Office many, many times. I feel tempted to start a rewatch right now. As I grew older and became an Agilist (basically a specialist in frameworks and methodologies, I help organizations become more efficient, for whatever it's worth...), anyway, as I became this management process improver, the show took a different turn. I started feeling for the management too, mostly David Wallace. Because while management in that series is a bunch of crazy people, David seemed honest to me. An honest manager, trying to do what he is paid for. Make decisions to improve profit for some asshole somewhere. I don't think any of this is fair, I just have to play the game and do my part, because I'm fascinated by my work. I'm fascinated by the people machine that is an organization. I work in a startup bank. We are trying to survive and I feel for those people's jobs. I want us all to survive and thrive in our careers. I don't like where the money goes, but I take infinite comfort in improving knowledge workers conditions (IT right now, but I worked in other industries).

We can be efficient and work in good conditions, I just need good honest managers. Good honest managers who understand we work with PEOPLE, and we should value them as the builders of wealth, treat them well. As well as it's possible. At least provide a healthy work environment. I can help it get better and make it a better place for everyone. I know I can. (I'm a socialist at heart, and as I watch The Last Of Us, I think Jackson is my utopia, but I'm a fucking IT manager in Brazil and in the case of fungus I would be fucking dead and my fictional self would never get the fabulous chance to see the glorious faces of Gabriel Luna and Pedro Pascal. Oh, Gabriel Luna's freckles and Pedro Pascal's big brown eyes... But I digress...)

(Yes, I feel compelled to refer to them in their complete artistic names. Like David Wallace.)

As I rewatch The Office, I feel for those people. And I feel for him, for some crazy reason. A friend of mine said all management in The Office are the asshole bosses, but I just think David Wallace was sincerely trying to make things happen in the healthiest way possible. He was sincere, as a manager, the best he could. I have always been in the operational level, and I thought I could never never get up in the ladder, but the more I worked, the more I realized I was just trying to mitigate the decisions of other people. The real key to change is going upwards.

So I took the step. I was going to help someone, somewhere.

And the moment I felt ready to take the step, the job landed on my lap. It is a good fit. Good people. Good team.

(The ADHD diagnosis and the real possibility I am autistic gave me the courage to take the step. Recognizing my symptoms gave me the understanding I could do my job, I could follow my fascination. I suddenly had the clarity of my challenges and I felt deep within I could make things BETTER and not worse for people. I don't know, I'm traumatized, I hate to be a burden)

It's on my shoulders now. I have to change this company, change this management, it's a good fit, a good team, I can relate to these people and I care for them. Deeply.

(I question those feelings all the time, because I often feel detached from the situation. Things seem so petty and when I consider the weight of personal ego and motivations for the people I work with, I am reminded of the complexity of my work and this world, and the complexity of an individual human being and I just want to die. It is so overwhelming. I am one person and I'm fucking weird. Am I chasing the impossible dream of a healthy work environment and am I going to die regretting the years of work I sold just to survive comfortably in this crazy place? The only truly valuable thing I have, my time in this world, sold to make a handful of people live a better life than mine. A life with less fear for losing the precious comfort they have. Fuck, I should have some comfort. Everybody should have comfort, or the certainty of survival with their basic needs met. But I digress.)

I am in the point I can make some change for some people, hopefully for better, I can convince those people, I can do things that make the environment better for the people to work with me.

But I am scared and intimidated. C-level people are rich people and honest to god (if it exists), I have a fuckload of privileges (I'm white), but I am read as a woman, and I am poor. To make it worse for those people, I'm fat, and I have been finding my empowering in comfort, so I wear the way I like (and there are a lot of colors), I'm comfortable in my clothes and in my body, finally.

I grew lower class. Mom was a secretary. She made me study. I loved studying what I loved, and I was good with it because I made interesting connections. You gave me a reason to love the subject, I would be fascinated by it. I have always loved literature, but I could only understand and remember all those facts and numbers by connecting literature, geography and history to make SENSE of it all. I do not understand humans in any way, collectively or individually, but I think we are all brilliant.

(now I know ADHD made school impossibly hard, but I believe the autism helped me find interesting solutions for my challenges. I was never able to stand college though, unfortunately. I do believe there is a wealth of knowledge there that I would love to be exposed to, but my brain can't take that environment, and I'm too old to put myself in more distress than necessary.)

So, yeah, I am weird to those neurotypical white rich men.

I'm intimidated. I'm scared. I'm suddenly very aware of all my perceived flaws, I can't TALK to those people. We don't have the same experiences, we don't have the same culture, and I don't fucking care for their culture, but they do.

I'm an honest manager with the understand I have to convince those people to behave better in the benefit of the collective. I need them to respect me and listen to me so I can help my fellow workers.

Don't get me wrong, I'm a worker. I'm closer to living in the streets than I should, considering the money I made for those people. But life is not fair and I am not gonna get into that wormhole.

So as I rewatch The Office through my career, I started thinking of honest managers. Of the people who are sincerely and honestly trying to do their jobs, make the better decisions for profit, with some empathy for their workers.

And I felt David Wallace was like me. Sincere.

And I know how Michael Scotts and Jen Levinsons can make this job HARDER. And it is worse when you have some empathy and try to do the best for the people who you work with and the company you work for. It is a weird job.

So I am now doing this. Trying to find all the David Wallaces in my workplace. (so far, not sure there are any but I found Michael Scotts <3)

Art is an incredible thing. As I rewatch The Office I think of all the people I work with and I love them more in their complexities. Comedy is a beautiful thing (I am a comedian, at least I'm trying and people say I'm good. I'm not so sure, but I will accept their word). I feel so blessed I get to be alive and feel all those things. The enchantment I feel as I see a man (as complex as I am, with a whole life history) pretending to be another man (with his presumed complexities as a character) recorded for my entertainment, saying words written by other people (as complex as I am) with the objective of making other people laugh and feel pleasure, get sad and touched and happy. This is so... Glorious. That we get to be alive and touch each other through art, music, dance, TV, movies, literature. Each people involved with their own story, their complexities and quirks. And because of them we get to be here in this website gathering through fandom and fanfic, art made from people by other people (all complex, from everywhere), it is glorious and beautiful. I don't understand humans, but we sure do incredible, outstanding, impossible things.

Now I am saving money to get Andy Buckley's cameo. I think he earned some of my money for his part in making me feel all of this. Also, I could really use a pep talk from David Wallace.

I don't know how to play this game, I don't even understand what is happening. But I have to influence those people, so I can make my life slightly better and make life slightly better for someone.

It is so overwhelming. Reality is complex, I love those people because I recognize their complexity and their suffering, as petty as it seems to me... we are all people. And it feels terribly overwhelming. My survival depends on this and I can't seem to harvest my own talents in my benefit.

I just needed to say that. It is honest. I love this existence but I can't deal with it most of the time.

[purplekiwis]

OMG YES! Damaged goods blurb! Can you do a fluff one where one of them is sick with seasonal flu and the other has to take care of them, but they're being stubborn about it because that's just what they do and how they are 🤧

Okay, okay... here she is! It's a bit meh I think, but I hope you like it! 🥰

*

Harry is sick and grumpy, and Y/N takes care of him (from the Damaged Goods AU)

Harry feels miserable.

He’s worse than miserable, really,

because he has a cold… or is it the flu?! He has never known to spot the differences between the two, but he recognized all of the early signs, of course...

As per usual, it started with nothing but a sore throat one morning when he woke up, that ended up lingering throughout the whole day, then came a headache, and the tiredness, and the chills…

It wasn’t so unbearable at first… but the symptoms only kept getting worse and worse as the hours went by, to the point of leaving him with no choice but to skip his classes in favor of staying in bed… suffering.

The worst part about it? He wasn’t even suffering at home – where his mom could be taking her lips to his forehead every so often to see if he had a fever, and bringing him bowls of soup and fruit cubes on that same familiar bedtray that had accompanied him throughout all his periods of sickness.

Mom would also be making sure he stayed hydrated and took his medicine in time... which by the way, he wasn’t taking any. Logically speaking, Harry knew he should have gone to a pharmacy by now, to get something to make him feel better, but how? When he couldn't even muster the will to get up and go downstairs to fill the empty water bottle perched on his nightstand.

He couldn’t move.

Every single inch of his body hurt.

And now he was starting to get shivery under his bedclothes... for fucks sake.

If only he had Pepper, his spaniel mutt puppy, around to snuggle and keep his body cozy and warm like a hot water bag... then perhaps Harry would've been in a better mood. Yeah, definitely. Pepper would've let him bury his snotty face into its soft fur, and not even think to complain if its owner left a puddle of guck all over said fur.

But well, Pepper isn't there.

And being sick sucks.

Especially because Harry really wants some cuddles... and it hasn't been helping his case whatsoever that in this trying day of illness, his mind has done nothing but think of Y/N.

Pondering over what outfit she must have worn that day and what she might be up to while he’s laying there on his deathbed. He also wonders if she has noticed his absence, and if so… if she’s worried about him.

He huffs once he checks his phone again and realizes there are still no messages from her. She doesn’t have to check on him. He knows that, but he can't help that he likes to be cared for sometimes… and as it turns out illness has a tendency to turn him into a big, needy baby... who really wants to have Y/N taking care of him. It would be so good. She could play with his hair the way he likes, give him forehead kisses, hold his hand…

Harry sighs out loud. Her company would be even better than Pepper's, he believes... although Harry isn't so sure Y/N would enjoy having his snot on her as much as his trusty pup would, but that’s beside the point.

It’s even more beside the point because he knows she's not coming to see him.

She’s mad at him, he recalls now. Stupidly so, if he's allowed to think that - he did nothing wrong, after all. She asked him for a “brutally honest opinion” on a design work she was doing for one of her classes, and he simply gave her what she asked for, plain as that. But of course, then she didn’t like what he had to say and got sulky. Just girls being girls, he guesses…

Harry should've known better than to think that would stop her from coming to see him, though. His girl was a little box of surprises, after all... a true master in the art of keeping him on his toes.

She showed up only half an hour after she was done with her classes... softly knocking on his door before poking her head inside with a smile, only for her jaw to drop in shock at the absolute misery that oozed from his pores.

“Y/N…” His voice cracked sickly, almost comically. Harry could have laughed at it if he wasn't so utterly lethargic. “What- what are you doing here?”

“Well, what do you think?” The girl huffed, shutting the bedroom door behind her and heading towards the end of the bed to get a good look at him, hands on her hips. “Why didn't you tell me you were sick? Here I was, going about my day thinking you had slept in for being a bum, only to find out through your friends that you were unwell.”

Harry bit the inside of his cheek, trying to hide his downright amusement at her worried state. Y/N was worried about him? Well then, perhaps her irritation had passed and she had forgiven him… which meant maybe he’d get to have those cuddles he wanted so bad. “I thought you were mad at me?” He poked, eyebrows arching teasingly the best they could with the little energy the muscles on his face could muster.

“Well, I was and am now even more.” She punctuated. “But I still care, obviously. How am I supposed to leave you by yourself when you look like that?” She put down the bag she was holding at the edge of the bed and kneeled next to it on the floor.

“Look like what?” He frowned again. “All snotty and gross?”

“Precisely… and an awful lot like Rudolph the reindeer as well.” Y/N added, with a soft pat to the tip of his swollen, red nose.

Harry smiled at that, right before his eyes fell on the bag over his bed. “Did you go to the store to get those creepy sheet masks you wanted?”

“Huh?” She muttured confused, before noticing where he was looking at. “Oh no, um… these are just some things I got for you. Just vitamins and those gummies for when you have a sore throat, and also uh…” Y/N's cheeks went a little hot. “I got some chicken soup from the buffet restaurant as well, you know… the one next to the drug store. I thought it might do you good…”

“You went to get all that stuff for me?” Harry asked, Y/N hummed happily in confirmation, her eyes gleaming with tenderness. “Y/N... you shouldn't have. That shit is so expensive, and I'm fine, really. It's just a cold. You dont have to worry, let alone take care of me.”

“No offence, but I think I do.” The girl challenged his statement, picking up the halfway used toilet paper roll placed on his nightstand. “For a start, you shouldn’t even be using this to blow your nose. It’ll only irritate your skin and make it more sore.”

Harry rolled his eyes playfully. “That’s such a mum thing to say…” He grumbled in attempt to mask the fact that the secret big, needy baby in him was loving every single bit of the mom talk, and the same applies to when Y/N clicked her tongue chastisingly once he stubbornly snatched the roll off her hand and pulled out some more paper.

She took the chance that he had moved his arm to move a bit closer, sitting on the edge of the bed next to his pillow. “Is there anything else I can do to make you feel better?” She asked, lovingly running her digits through his unwashed curls. They felt a little waxy and knotty in her hands, but she didn’t mind it in the slightest. She just wanted to make him feel better in any way she could. So she kept playing with his hair, scratching at the roots and combing her fingers through his strands just the way she knew he reveled in - only breaking contact once she was almost certain that he had fallen asleep on her... However, as soon as Y/N began to pull her hand away to check her phone, Harry let out a whine and bumped his forehead against her wrist, in a silent request for her to keep going. “You're such a baby sometimes…” Y/N whispered, proceeding to fulfill his wish.

“Mhm... your baby.” He sighed happily.

Y/N smiled to herself at the state of pure bliss Harry was in. So utterly distracted by the slow puffy nature of his breaths, that she almost didnt notice that his droopy eyes had opened and were now fixed on her. He cleared his throat painfully. “Y/N... can I have one of those gummies you got? My throat hurts and I really want to try one.”

Y/N let out a tiny chuckle at the pleading tone he'd used, nodding as she got up to grab the bottle from the bag. She threw it at him playfully to catch midair, knowing that his reflexes were outstanding. “Ohh these seem nice. I love lemon and honey flavored shit.” He told her whilst inspecting the label.

“Yeah?” Y/N couldn’t help but to grin, feeling quite proud of herself for picking the right flavor. But her smile quickly melted into an expression of concern once she watched Harry crack open the bottle and carelessly throw a bunch of gummies into his mouth. “Harry! What are you- that’s not candy! You can’t eat them by the handful!”

“Oi, chill out… it’s just gummies. What wrong could it do?” He asked as he blithely chewed them. Words coming out garbled since he was speaking in between a mouthful.

“Oh, I don't know, perhaps there could be anesthetics in them... but who knows? It was just a thought.” Y/N ironized.

“Really?” He made a wry face similar to hers, inspecting the label closer. “Do you think we can get high on this shit?” He smirked, still chewing as he rolled the container around to check the ingredients in the back. “Cause I'm not gonna lie, that sounds like a pretty good afternoon plan to me...” He half joked, cracking the bottle open again and dropping a couple more gummies in his palm.

Y/N heaved at the suggestion. “I think it’s more likely that you get a terrible bellyache, and we end up in the ER...”

“You really think so?” Harry asked teasingly, taking another gummy to his mouth.

“Okay, that's enough. Give me that.” Y/N demanded, pushing for him to pass the container, but all he did was shake his head with a mischievous, defiant smirk. The girl rolled her eyes at him. “You know what? Fine.” She shrugged. “Eat as many as you want. Can't wait to watch you shit the bed once those anesthetics give you a loose bottom.”

He chuckled at the warning, amused. “If you’re so bothered, why don’t you come get them from me?” He questioned, but before he could prepare himself Y/N jumped on the bed to try and take the bottle away from his hands, what forced him to abruptly sit up and hold it over his head just so she couldn’t reach it from where she sat. “That was... real cute. Is that all you got, hm?”

Y/N huffed and crawled over his legs until she was practically on his lap. Seeing right through his facade once he happily handed off the gummies without putting up a fight and wrapped his arms around her middle to pull her in for a hug instead. “You must think you're so sly, don't you?” She mumbled in question, going back to petting his hair. “If you wanted a cuddle, you could’ve just said so… I don't mind your germs.”

“I was trying to behave to avoid getting you sick, actually…”

“Yeah right...” Y/N grumbled, dropping her head on his shoulder for a moment. “But I guess, since you've already passed me the germs and all... might as well just give me a kiss, no?” She proposed shyly, waiting for Harry to make the move. He did, pulling away slightly and placing his lips in hers softly. “Mm, more.” She pouted.

“Greedy.” He joshed, pecking the girl's lips again, and again... and once more for good measure. The damage was already done, after all... they might as well just keep doing it. “I feel disgusting, though. If I knew you were coming, I would’ve at least taken a shower and brushed my teeth. Can’t believe you still want to kiss me when I am like this.”

Y/N scratched at the frizzy hairs of his nape. “I promise you don't smell or look nearly as bad as you think you do… and you taste like lemon and honey so, that’s nice.” Harry distrustfully scrunched up his nose at her allegation, sniffing up some in the process before his digits rushed to grab some more toilet paper. He took it to his nose, blowing noisily. “Alright, snotty boy…” Y/N laughed, swiftly crawling off his lap. “How about I go downstairs to plate up our soup while you pick a movie for us to watch as we eat? It can be one of those “guy movies” and all, I promise I won't complain... today only, cause I'm giving you privilege for being sick.”

His eyes strayed towards you with interest, the lower half of his face still covered behind the poorly ripped toilet paper sheets. “I was actually thinking more like a musical or a pixar movie, maybe?”

“God, Harry.” Y/N gasped in awe. “I swear I've never felt more attracted to you in my life. Snot and everything.”

[forsworned]

Shinobu x female reader that is smaller than her and sleeps a lot?

Genre: fluff

Warnings: none

Categories: f/f

Relationships: shinobu kochō /reader

Word count: 515

a/n: heyyy so i'm gonna try to get thru a bunch of requests today cuz i got a handful last night,, also my requests are open, they will be open until i say otherwise. if they do happen to close it will say it in my bio and on my pinned post so don't be afraid to send some in! also again not ignoring anyone's request i am going in order bc that is the way i do things,, but yeah the point i am trying to make is reading some of the requests i have i feel an urgency to get thru them so you guys have something to put you at ease!

[Name] was quite small, smaller than Shinobu, and that was saying something. She often spent her time either wide awake or sleeping at 16 hours at a time. Her insomnia was the main culprit for this and Shinobu had tried her best to work on a remedy to help alleviate her symptoms. She wanted to create a drug that helped induce sleep for [name] so she could peacefully sleep at appropriate times. She always felt a pang of guilt when [name] would lay in her lap after not being able to sleep all night.

At the moment, Shinobu was in her study adding the finishing touches to her latest drug that she was hoping would be a sure thing to put [name] to sleep. A knock at her door had caught her attention, but her gaze never left her work.

"Come in." She called out as she scribed something in her journal. [name's] arms had swathed around her lover's waist and leaned her head against her dainty shoulder.

"Well, hello, [name]-chan." She smiled recognizing her lover's scent. It was light yet sweet, kind of like [name].

"Hello, what are you working on?"

"Your sleep remedy."

[name] sighed loudly and pinched Shinobu's waist causing her to jolt and shoo her hand away.

"I told you to stop wasting your time on that." Shinobu was the stubborn type. She would always figure out a way to cure something, especially if it were for [name] and her health. Shinobu turned around to place a finger on [name's] lips to hush her before she made her lover open her mouth.

"Say 'ah'."

"No, Shi--"

"Now." Her voice was commanding, yet soft. [name] didn't fight her, just obeyed and simply opened wide and "ah'd". Shinobu smiled as she placed the pill on her tongue and closed her mouth.

"Now swallow."

"That's what she said."

"[name]..." Shinobu glared at her with stern eyes. She was tired and even a little hangry. Usually, [name] would bring by food for her while she worked, but she had fallen into another lengthy sleep spell skipping that all together.

[name] swallowed the pill (yes, with no water) and felt a calming sensation as it passed through her esophagus.

"Oh, wow that was--"

"Soothing?" Shinobu had her usually smile on her face as she gazed at [name].

[name] nodded as she sat down feeling somewhat drowsy.

"The pill I gave you has a concoction of herbs that soothes you and induces sleep within a matter of moments."

“Well, it’s definitely working.”

Shining giggled as she walked over to where [name] was situated at and laid her limp arm over her shoulder.

“One, two, three.” And the pair were now standing up, well [name] was slumping over while Shinobu was supporting her weight. Struggling as she led [name] over to their shared and laid her gently on the futon.

[name] wasted no time falling asleep. She was out like a light, snoring away and Shinobu tucked her in. She smiled at her work. She was pleased with herself that she finally accomplished getting [name] a full nights rest.

[gh0st-patr0l]

ADHD in DSMP

So about a week back, I made a post about Karl Jacobs (a bit of a passive aggressive one, I’ll admit, but I think it was justified), complaining that a lot of the ‘criticism’ I see about Karl is actually rather insensitive towards his ADHD. I got a lot of responses to that post, and the most common sources of confusion I saw were:

People not understanding what I was saying they should avoid being judgmental of, or-

People who didn’t know that Karl had ADHD or didn’t understand which behaviors were caused by it.

First of all, Karl has confirmed that he has ADHD.

(NOTE: Yes, I know he said ADD. ADD and ADHD used to be categorized as separate disorders, but in the most recent edition of the DSM, it was decided that they are both simply subtypes of the same disorder- ADHD is the correct technical term. ADD is still sometimes used as shorthand by some practitioners to diagnose primarily-inattentive ADHD, but it's a bit outdated.)

Secondly, that original post made me realize that a lot of people who may be well-meaning may genuinely not fully understand ADHD and its symptoms as well as they want to or think they might. If you aren’t aware, Karl isn’t the only one in the DSMP with ADHD- to my understanding, both Technoblade and Dream have confirmed that they have it as well. So, I thought it would be helpful to put together a comprehensive crash-course on ADHD symptoms and how they effect people’s behavior!

Now, before we go further, I want to address something- as I said earlier, I saw some people unsure of whether certain behaviors are ADHD or “just his personality”. I feel the need to point this out above the read more so people will see it. To answer this question, as someone with ADHD;

A lot of times, it’s both. ADHD is a neurodevelopmental disorder, meaning that it’s caused by the way your brain developed from birth. A lot of the symptoms and effects of ADHD are extremely influential towards the way we think, act, and behave, to the point where “symptoms” and “normal behavior” really don’t have a clean differentiation. This is why it’s technically classified as a ‘disorder’, instead of an illness. While certain aspects of it can require treatment, the condition itself as a whole is not something to be mitigated or eliminated- it’s a part of who we are as a person. This is also why sometimes, even if you don’t have ADHD, you’ll look at certain specific behaviors or experiences and go “Oh, but I do that too!”. A lot of ADHD ‘symptoms’ are just a bunch of normal traits or behaviors, but in combination with each other and some actually problematic aspects, form the appearance of the disorder.

So, what are you allowed to nitpick about it? Well, there’s no real ‘authority’ on this, and even if there was it certainly wouldn’t be me. But if you want my opinion? Nothing.

See, here’s the thing- what I was trying to say when I made that post was not that you can’t be critical of Karl. If you want to say something about his Actions, his Ideals, or the content he creates- sure, go for it, that’s fair. I will agree that there are some very valid and constructive points to be made. But when you post ‘criticism’ about the way he speaks, his interests or preoccupations, his personal behaviors? That’s not criticism. That’s just judging someone.

And you’re allowed to think that stuff! Nobody can control what annoys or bothers them. It doesn’t necessarily make you a bad person. But you don’t need to be vocal about it. You can keep your mean thoughts to yourself. And if you do make posts or communities or whatever about judging someone for things they can’t change about themselves, don’t call it “criticism” or try to morally justify it. It’s not productive or righteous, it’s just rude. Nothing else.

Anyway. Back to Education!

The following will be a descriptive list of visible ADHD behaviors, using Karl’s behavior as examples.

I feel the need to add a disclaimer here- I am not a mental health professional. However! I have ADHD myself, I have taken some psychology courses and done a Lot of research into this stuff, and I’m the daughter of a therapist with access to a DSM. While I’m not an expert, I’d like to think I’m fairly well versed and knowledgeable on at least ADHD. (That being said, if by chance anyone who Is a professional sees this post and notices mistakes, by all means let me know and I’ll fix it!!)

WHAT IS ADHD?

You’re here for the behaviors more than the science, so I’ll keep this short and sweet. ADHD is Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (Known in the past as Attention Deficit Disorder). Despite its name, the root problem of ADHD is not in the person’s ability to pay attention, but their brain’s capability to manage itself. In simple terms, people with ADHD have a lot less control over what their brain does and wants. This results in some behavioral differences along with some personal challenges, namely a difficulty with attentiveness and self-discipline.

Now, onto the symptoms!

ATTENTION

This is perhaps the most visible and pervasive of the ADHD symptoms, hence why it’s the namesake. Inattention is a lack of focus and an inability to stay present and occupied with certain tasks or thoughts.

Because ADHD impairs self-management of the brain, people with it have an extremely hard time directing themselves anywhere but where their brain instinctively wants to go. This results in inattentiveness and the easiness of distraction that is often mocked or stereotyped for people with ADHD.

Here are some examples of how Karl can sometimes display his inattentiveness;

When he has an idea that he seems passionate about, only to drop it or switch to something totally different without warning soon after (either forgetting or getting bored of his original idea).

When he sets out to do something like a build, works on it for a short amount of time, and then immediately gives up or gets someone else to do it.

When someone else is talking and he totally zones out. (NOTE: While I wont make a whole section for it because it’s not easily observable, maladaptive (constant and intrusive) daydreaming is a common ADHD symptom as well!)

It’s important to remember that the whole problem with ADHD is that we can’t control when or what we focus on. When someone with ADHD zones out during a conversation or activity, it doesn’t mean they’re doing it on purpose, and they likely don’t mean any offense! We often are trying our best to listen or participate, but our brain just wont cooperate.

However, inattention is not the only way ADHD effects our focus. There’s also what’s called hyperfocus or hyperfixation, which is when we are so absorbed into a single subject, task, or idea that it is extremely difficult to get us to think about or do anything else. This is usually because our brains have found something that is getting those satisfaction chemicals flowing, and it’s clinging to that with everything it’s got.

People with ADHD will often experience brief periods of hyperfocus. Think of how Karl talks about spending hours straight working on a build or project without eating or drinking, or how he’ll sit down to play a game with someone and end up going six hours without even noticing.

There are also hyperfixations, where someone with ADHD becomes extremely preoccupied with a certain subject, topic, etc. for a period of time. These can be short term- personally, my hyperfixation can sometimes change as quickly as a couple weeks at a time. However, it can also be long term. Karl has been obsessed with Survivor since the second grade- not to mention his memorabilia, rambling, and constant references to Kingdom Hearts.

HYPERACTIVITY/STIMMING

This is a BIG one for Karl. I should clarify; ‘stimming’ is not a technical term, and in professional situations these behaviors are just referred to as Hyperactivity. However, I personally like the term stimming much more and find it far more accurate to what the behaviors actually are, so I’ll be using that instead for this post.

If you’re not already familiar, ‘stimming’ (derived from ‘stimulation’) is an unofficial term used to describe consistent and abnormal patterns of physical and vocal behavior typically expressed by people with ADHD and ASD (Autism Spectrum Disorder). This includes things that people usually call fidgets or tics.

(NOTE: There are differences in how people with those two disorders stim. This post will explain stimming specifically from an ADHD perspective! ASD stimming is caused by very different factors and presents itself in much different ways. Do your own research if you’re curious!) 

There are two major observable forms of stimming- physical and vocal. Karl expresses both VERY often! I’ll use examples for each type;

Physical Stims: Flapping his hands/arms, jumping up and down when he’s excited, twisting around into odd positions in his chair, throwing, hitting, or tapping things, standing up and pacing around when he’s hyped up or laughing, twisting his rings, etc.

Vocal Stims: When he gets excited and repeats a certain phrase incessantly (Think any variation of “I’m popping off”), making certain repetitive noises while he’s focused on something or bored (”la la la”, the meow-noises, the weird heart-beat noise, etc.), singing or humming, tongue clicking.

It should be noted here that it’s pretty common for people with ADHD to get “stuck” on certain phrases or noises, and be unable to stop repeating them (reminiscent of echolalia, a symptom of ASD, but not the same thing). Think of how Karl might sometimes keep making a weird noise for an extended period of time even though it’s not that funny, or that one time he was physically struggling to keep himself from singing the Bakugan theme. These repetitions are completely impulsive and trust me, we usually know how annoying it is while we’re doing it, but we physically cannot stop.

ADHD stims are caused by the fact that the barrier between our brain and body is much weaker than a normal person’s. Because of this, most ADHD stims are actually very positive expressions of joy, excitement, or enthusiasm! Y’know how when you get excited, you feel like you wanna jump or dance? The ‘hyperactivity’ of ADHD is basically just that, but we don’t have the self-control to Not do it.

Stims can be caused by negative feelings like overstimulation, but in ADHD this is not nearly as common. Usually, the most negative reason we’ll stim is when we’re bored- in that case, our brain isn’t getting the Constant Stimulation that it naturally wants, so stimming is a way to make our own.

Whatever the cause, stimming is natural and impulsive. While different people experience it to varying degrees, those who regularly stim typically have little to no control over it. Suppressing stims is very hard and very frustrating to do.

Besides that, like I said- ADHD stims are often an expression of joy, excitement, or enthusiasm. They’re a beautiful thing that shouldn’t be seen as shameful or annoying!

BEHAVIORAL DIFFICULTIES

ADHD is a disorder which causes a lack of self-control. Naturally, this means that people with ADHD are inherently reckless, impulsive, and struggle with a lack of self-discipline that they cannot fix.

Of course, people with ADHD do still have some level of self-control, and they are still responsible for conscious, long-term behavioral patterns and decisions. However, in regards to most things, they are much, much less capable of controlling themselves than an average neurotypical person is.

These are some examples of how this will often present itself in Karl;

Excessive rambling, dragging on a joke or conversation when it could and should probably have been dropped, etc.

Speaking over or interrupting other people (NOTE: As someone with ADHD- THIS IS ALMOST ALWAYS UNINTENTIONAL. I know it can seem rude or annoying but I promise, 90% of the time if someone with ADHD talks over you, they either didn’t realize or physically couldn’t help it. Please try to be patient!)

Lack of awareness towards social cues (NOTE: Unlike ASD, in which the person is incapable of/has problems fully understanding social cues, ADHD results in a lack of awareness. For whatever reason, we’re often just not paying close enough attention to pick up on things like body language, tone of speech, and facial expression as well as we would normally.)

Indecisiveness and overthinking

Bluntness, lack of subtlety

Unintentional dismissiveness, accidentally ignoring things/people (NOTE: Again, this behavior is purely accidental. In this case, it’s usually just the person genuinely not hearing or processing things.)

Making noises, speaking, joking, etc. at inappropriate times

There’s probably more, but I think you get the idea by now. A lot of the time, behavior which results from ADHD can be seen as rude, lazy, dismissive, or otherwise intentionally harmful. In reality, we just aren’t wired to navigate common social interaction with grace.

In Karl’s case, he’s clearly an incredibly sweet, empathetic, and kind-hearted person, if the various close friends who have talked about him are to be believed. Just because he talks over people or makes a poorly timed joke, that doesn’t mean he meant any harm. 

I think that’s about it for how much I wanted to point out! You can do more research if you’re curious, but I feel like this post should be enough to tell you what to keep in mind and be understanding about when talking about/making judgements on Karl, and other people with ADHD.

[re-x]

So.. on that closing of 3x01

Her phone buzzes. It’s an Instagram DM from an anonymous account, it says, “You better watch out Devi, Paxton Hall Yoshida is not who you think he is.” 

Oh. Finally, a mystery. Or, is it? For this kind of interpersonal conflict to be worth the audience’s concern, the person behind this action has to be a character that is well-known to them. But who is it? Well, I don’t know for sure. I do know, however, that it may not take us that long to find out. I believe we’d be able to figure out who it was by watching the first episode of the new season. Of course, itt’s going to depend so much on the acting, and at the end of the day the performance is precisely what’s going to either foreshadow the identity of this individual or rule them out entirely.  

On the one hand, could it be someone completely unimportant, like, say, Zoe or Shira or one of those brainless characters? Yes it could. But then, why bother and who cares?

But on the other hand, wouldn’t it be more likely for the culprit to be someone far more important and closer to the center, like, I don’t know, Ben Gross? For better or worse (I think worse, but hey nobody’s asking me), the “love triangle” (again, I must acknowledge the sheer absurdity in our viewing a bunch of teenagers this way, but that’s on Mindy Kaling and Lang Fisher) will remain central to the show throughout its entire run (Fisher, 2021). So, what better way to continue this multi-season arc than to organically have Ben be an important factor (if not necessarily the cause) in whatever relationship shenanigans Devi will encounter this season?

Also, it’s FAQ time!

Q: “Ben loves Devi. He would never?” 

A: He’s 16 and hurting. He’s clearly not doing well. You’d be surprised. Children have done far worse under far less stressful life circumstances. Not defending it. I’d be happy to call this character out if he genuinely did something that was out of line. But as always, context is key. 

Q: But Jaren said Ben would never! So he tricked us?

A: First of all, it’s Mr. Jaren Lewison. Secondly, read again what he said: 

“Ben is also really emotionally intelligent. I think that you can see that he really does understand deep, complex emotions and situations that kind of drive those emotions. So I think if he sees Devi’s really happy, and while it may pain him, I think Ben would respect that. I don’t think that he’s going to come flying in if he sees Devi’s happy. I feel like that’s what his number one priority is, maybe even possibly over his own happiness. I don’t think that he’d go flying in there trying to disrupt everything if she’s genuinely happy, so I think that it will be a tough situation to navigate for Ben” 

We don’t yet know to what extent this anonymous message will disrupt everything re: the Daxton bliss, or whatever it is. In any case, ask yourself whether  Devi is really happy? Isn’t that the prerequisite from the above statement? If somehow Ben’s decided that she isn’t, all bets are off (within reason).

Q: I knew it. I knew this idiot Ben Gross was nothing but trouble!

A: Ok let’s simmer down a bit here. If you’ve never liked this character and have closed your mind to him, then nothing he’d ever do would ever be good enough. So why are you here? Find something else you like. 

Q: OMG he loooooveees her so much he wants only the best for her and wants to make sure she won’t be hurt!

A: Once again, let me remind you that he’s 16 and hurting. He’s clearly not doing well. Acting out (and this is a kind of acting out, if it did turn out to be Ben’s doing, which I believe it is) is only a symptom of something deeper. Do you honestly not think that everything that happened to this kid last season would not leave any lasting impact? Perhaps this is a clear manifestation of it. 

Concluding statement: 

I am about 90% certain this is Ben’s doing. I think it would give Mr. Jaren Lewison some really meaty stuff to work with (plus, they might even decide to spend sometime exploring things from his own point of view!) , and I’m kind of excited to see what the season has in store. 

[fatefulfaerie]

Requesting for Zelda taking care of Link when he's sick 👀👀 thanks!

Livin' On A Prayer

Five words and everything else faded. She felt dizzy, her ears were buzzing, and her eyes were going out of focus. The doctor continued to talk but his words were unheard as she stared blankly in shock.

He wouldn’t last the week

He wouldn’t last the week

He wouldn’t last the week.

She forgot that the words “worst case scenario” came before them, she forgot the doctor was still talking, she forgot her children were listening until a small hand tugged on her shirt. She was thrust back into the moment.

Zelda looked over to her son, his green eyes so unlike hers, filled with intrigue instead of sadness, oozing with an innocence she almost regretted giving him.

“What’s happening in a week, momma?” The three-year old asked.

Zelda moved her lips and yet struggled to find the words, looking at the doctor across from her desperately. Tears formed in her speechlessness.

“Elyjah,” the doctor beckoned. “Come here.”

The little boy tottered over, the doctor placing his large hands on either of the boy’s small shoulders.

“Take your sister and go up the hill to Purah’s lab.”

They boy turned his head back around to his mother, who couldn’t bear to look him in the eye. If he knew something was wrong, he didn’t say a word about it, looking back at the doctor.

“Your mom will come to get you both before supper,” the doctor continued. “Can you do that?”

Elyjah nodded, and before Zelda knew it, he had taken Wendie’s hand and was downstairs and out the door.

Zelda looked down at the way her hands wrung as the doctor waited patiently for her next question. He had told her everything he could, but knew that in these types of situations, things often needed repeating.

“Is…” Zelda tried, but her voice was weak, broken and shaky, unrehearsed and improper. “…I-Is there anything that can be done to cure him…before…”

She couldn’t even finish.

Luckily, she didn’t need to for the doctor to understand what she was asking.

“Like I said, all treatments would be experimental.” He said. “But you and I both know that we are out of miracles, fairies have no affect and all common elixirs do nothing to stop the symptoms. Pretty soon the fluid in his lungs won’t let him breathe, and there won’t be anything we can do except be thankful that the tough elixirs I gave to you and your children prevented the spread of the disease.”

Zelda nodded.

“The uhm…” she attempted. “The enduring elixir that you’ve been giving him…that manages the symptoms, it has tireless frogs and monster parts, right?”

“That’s right,” the doctor said with a nod. “And I am currently experimenting with energetic rhino beetles and restless crickets to create something a bit stronger, perhaps even a more permanent cure, but as I said there is no guarantee, and if nothing works you’ll be a widow within…”

The doctor stopped himself, bit his tongue and cursed his bluntness, especially, since the green eyes that looked at him burned with an angry grief.

“I apologize,” the doctor said, standing up. “I will return tomorrow to check up on him. May Hylia bless him and your family.”

Zelda knew he meant that as a parting of reassurance as she leaned back with a sigh in the chair she sat, hearing the doctor depart from the house as she thought of how very little Hylia had to do with any of it.

“Zelda,” Link’s voice croaked. It sounded terribly painful and Zelda looked over immediately at the sound that meant Link had woken up.

“Link,” she said, rushing over to her husband’s side and taking his hand. His head looked over to meet her eyes, that filled with love as much as his. His blonde hair was unbrushed and tangled, let loose from the blue elastic he had begun to wear less frequently ever since the incident in the caves.

It all seemed like a lifetime ago.

“What did the doctor say?” Link asked, his voice even more broken than Zelda’s, hoarse and crumbly. His breathing was loud too, as if Zelda could hear his lungs fighting to breathe the wild again.

“N-nothing,” Zelda lied. “Nothing. E-everything’s fine.”

Link rolled his head so that he looked up at the ceiling.

“That bad, huh?”

Zelda took a deep breath into her next words.

“He thinks you will be gone within the week,” she said, and she couldn’t help but glance at the small white rags near him, that were dotted with flem with hues ranging from yellow to white, and even a couple that showed he was coughing up blood. Zelda shook her head, meaning to voice that she would stop this from happening but her inhale turned into a sob. Zelda dove her head into Link’s chest and cried tears that hiccuped her shoulders, that prompted Link to rest his good hand on her head.

“I won’t let this happen, Link,” Zelda said, her voice muffled. “I can’t, I…I-I’ll work day and night to find something…something that’s enough to cure…”

Her sobbing stopped her words, Link gently petting the hair on her head as he stared at the ceiling of their Hateno home.

He wasn’t ready to die, and he wasn’t ready to accept it either.

With his other arm he clutched her, hugged her, melted into her.

“You’ll find it,” he said. “And even if you don’t, it’s okay. This isn’t on you.”

Zelda retreated from the embrace, sniffling away her tears with no concern for wiping them away.

“You feel warm,” she said, taking the wet rag off his forehead. Link looked over to see her standing up. “I’ll replace this. Do you need anything else? Are you hungry? Thirsty? I should bring you water regardless.” She was on the verge of more tears but she steadily ignored it. “And food, I’ll make you a bunch of dishes you like. One of them is bound to be appetizing.”

“Zelda--”

“Then of course I’ll get back to researching a cure,” Zelda continued. “I’ll have the kids spend the night at Purah’s because it will be a long night for sure. Of course you need your rest.”

“Zelda,” Link asserted, squeezing her hand. He continued slowly, “you do too.”

Zelda shook her head, denying his insistence and pulling his wrist away so that his fingers let go of her hand.

“Not until you are better,” Zelda said, almost angry. Not angry at Link, but at the world, at her luck. It was one thing to be tortured by Calamity Ganon for 117 years, and then to find themselves in a true battle with him that separated them between earth and sky, but to get through all that for it to end here? She couldn’t fathom it.

She descended the stairs before Link could disagree, and spent the night pouring over every book, every journal, whether hers or Link’s, every spare footnote, and anything they could have forgotten.

When the sun rose the next day, blanketing her in a warm, golden glow, the entire kitchen table was covered in books and notes. And yet the one she used as her pillow was a very old journal, from Link’s first venture around Hyrule after emerging from the shrine of resurrection.

Although Zelda was sound asleep, the words “Medicinal Molduga” seemed to have been circled before she conked out. Whether it was because she let herself sleep or because she simply was overtaken by fatigue, the doctor had no idea, treading into their Hateno home after knocking and hearing no response.

“Miss,” he said shaking her shoulder. “Miss I think we’ve done it, Miss.”

“What?” Zelda said as her eyes fluttered open, her head slowly lifting from where it gave her a great creak in the neck. She looked over.

“Doctor Grey,” she said with narrow, tired eyes that tried to block out the sunlight. “What are you doing here?”

“I did it,” he said excitedly, almost too excitedly for so early in the morning. He sat down at a nearby chair. “I figured it out. A procedure that can safely drain the fluid from his lungs. All I needed was something to kill the infection afterwards and…I think you just figured it out.”

“I did what?” Zelda said, obviously still half-awake, her eyes closing and opening lethargically.

“See right here,” the doctor said. “You circled Molduga. I never thought to use that as medicine before but the way their stomach acids are constructed might just work as an antibacterial agent. It’s so obvious.”

“I don’t remember doing that at all,” Zelda said, shaking her head, looking at the old journal before it actually came together in her head. “Wait, are...are you telling me…”

The doctor nodded.

“Yes,” he said. “There’s a chance. Do you have any Molduga guts here?”

“Oh, of course,” Zelda said, standing up quickly and shuffling through drawers desperately and haphazardly. “We always have something of everything.”

In the last drawer she saw it, their salvation, some green goop she once thought nothing of. She smiled, she cried, and after she sent the doctor along with the guts the prepare for the procedure, she woke up Link and kissed him, kissed him like she did when they reunited for good, when they married, when they had their children, and every other milestone after that, whether small or big.

And later that day, when the procedure was successful and his symptoms were fading, she kissed him like that again. She could breathe a breath of relief when Link proved to have the strength to sit up and truly kiss her back for the first time in a month.

Instances where I've done something similar to your prompt because that was probably disappointing:

A Tender Moment

Honesty Part 6/7

Enraptured

[kylorengarbagedump]

Defy Your Authority: Chapter 4

Read on AO3. Part 3 here. Part 5 here.

Summary: David Rose voice: Oh, my god!

Words: 3200

Warnings: dude

Characters: Kylo Ren x Reader

A/N: First: Thank you to @bastila-ren and @elmidol for their beta-kindness.

I'M ALIVE. I got super burned out at my job, took 5 weeks of FMLA, got incredibly depressed, but now I'm back! Very thankfully, my COVID symptoms were extremely mild. Thank you very very much for your well-wishes and your concerns.

I wish I could express enough apology for my lack of activity, but hopefully uploading a chapter is thanks enough. You all have been so supportive and kind to me. I am SO thankful and appreciative of everything y'all offer me!

(as a side note: I know some people do not like dude, that it throws them out. I am very sorry, but in the politest way possible: I am not going to stop using it. I like it too much.)

I also hope you enjoyed the chapter! God I wonder what's going to happen next chapter. I just don't know.

Love you all so much <3

“Piece of shit.”

Growling, you tugged out another panel from the silencer’s dash. At this point, about a dozen slats of buttons boxed you into the pilot’s seat, crowding you in the cockpit. All of them looked flawless upon inspection, and this new one was no exception. Wires were attached and the circuits were complete, every switch was grounded. You’d gone over a handful of systems already, trapped in this cockpit for hours. The silencer’s refusal to function made no sense. There had to be something you were missing. 

The memory of smoke and flames licked at the perimeter of your mind. Yeah, there was a lot you were missing.

Pain burrowed, opened a well in your chest, and you shook your head, rubbing your tired face. There wasn’t time to think about anything else. Sitting forward, you started reattaching the panels to the console. You needed to focus on this.  Even though the answer to where you’d go and what you would do once you were finished remained nebulous. Even though you were now apparently unknown and unloved by almost everyone in the universe, including the one man you’d waited on for months. 

You caught a sigh in your chest, exhaling into your palms, shutting out the urge to cry. Crying right now was a waste of time. You still had about fifty systems to check, and you’d only read through about half of Kylo’s post-flight novella. Swallowing, you grabbed your datapad from the seat and flipped to the report, forcing yourself through the urge to skim.

It wasn’t like you weren’t interested. Normally this sort of thing was like a buffet for your freakish little brain. But you kept tasting embers on your tongue. Kept seeing your crew--completely unarmed, helpless fuel outpost workers--drowning in destruction. Kept hearing Hux’s voice: Multiple Resistance fighters… Heat gripped your neck, clogged your throat. Multiple fighters for a tiny station. Multiple fighters against three soft, fleshy bodies.

The First Order was not your creed; just your employer. The machine of war had always been an inconvenience to the prestige of working on elite starfighters. You knew that the loss of three cogs was nothing to that machine. In the past, it’d been nothing to you too. But you’d never eaten meals or laughed with or supported those lost cogs when they’d cried. This loss wasn’t just to war. This loss was horrifically and uniquely yours. 

“Stop.” You shook your head, tossing your datapad back on the seat. You’d finish putting the console back together, then you’d figure out what to do next.

Jaw tight, you grabbed another panel, and your grip slipped. The sharp edge sliced your palm where the wood had lanced you earlier.

“Fuck!” You dropped it and clutched your hand, seething while you tried to squeeze away the agony. Everything from your fingers to your wrist throbbed, and your chin quaked, tears burning your sight. “Fuck! Fuck!” Snarling, you kicked the panels at your feet. “Fuck!”

The thin cut felt like a sobbing gash. You tore off your jacket and wrapped the sleeve around your palm, wincing when you tightened it to the wound. 

“Stupid fucking panels!” you growled, kicking the panels again. “Stupid fucking ship, stupid fucking Kylo, stupid fucking Resistance!” The final kick dented a panel, popped off a shiny button. “Gods!”

You covered your face in your jacket and screamed until your throat crackled, until your lungs were dry. Head spinning, you drew in a breath and screamed again, stomping the floor until dizziness dropped you into the pilot’s chair. Warmth glowed at your cheeks, leaked down your back. Tremors rippled to your toes as you took in a long, steadying breath, exhaling in reluctant relief. 

You considered sitting there forever. But it only took two seconds for you to remember how Kylo also sat in this chair thinking of and dealing with everything that wasn’t you before you grunted and climbed out of the cockpit. 

The rest of the hangar seemed wholly unconcerned or otherwise ignorant to your tantrum. Wiping your eyes, you hopped to the ground, wagging off the lingering fury in your limbs. Maybe you just needed a walk. You cleared your throat and kept your hand clutched to your chest, the whispering ache pulsing in rhythm with your heart.

In all the hours you’d been in the cockpit, the Steadfast had continued to orbit Orinda. Xi-class shuttles whirled beyond the hangar entrance--probably staffed with crew collecting reconnaissance from whatever the Resistance left behind from the attack. Your feet carried you to the fuzzy blue edge of the magnetic shield’s barrier, meters from vacant space. A quiet hum resonated from its perimeter through your soles. 

You gazed into the galaxy. Orinda was a glimmering grain of sand, adrift in the celestial trenches. A fuel outpost turned graveyard. An acceptable casualty of the Resistance. Another home where you couldn’t return. That whispering ache rumbled to a hiss and cast itself over your skin, raking it over with misery, with exhaustion. Your chin quivered. The only place you could think to sleep was the silencer. Eyes falling to the floor, you turned back to the hangar.

“My quarters.”

You squealed and jumped, clapping your hands to your chest. Feet away stood Kylo Ren.

“Shit!” you said, exhaling in relief. “How the hell do you do that?” When he said nothing, you continued, “Like, sneak up on me like that.” 

“You’re not perceptive.”

You frowned. “Okay, well…” He wasn’t wrong. You sighed, shrugged. “Anyway.”

Kylo stepped forward, assessing you in your tank top, scrutinizing the tourniquet you’d made of your jacket. “Your hand.” 

“It’s fine,” you said, holding it behind your back. “Your quarters?”

His stare lingered on your exposed shoulders, on your neck. “Stay,” he said. “Until the silencer is repaired.”

“That could be as early as next cycle.” 

“Given your skill, yes.”

It was difficult to look in his direction. Every worn nerve screamed for his touch. “And then what?”

“You’ll depart to another station.”

You tried to flush the pain from your voice. “So,” you said, “you want me to stay with you through, like, one cycle, and then leave.” You looked to the ceiling in faux-consideration. “Cool. I think I’ll pass.” 

Kylo’s eye twitched. He moved closer, tone icy. “You have nowhere to sleep,” he said. “I…” He paused. His tongue rolled in his mouth. “You mean to tell me you prefer the silencer.”

“Well,” you replied, “I’ve never fucked the silencer. I never told the silencer how I felt about it. The silencer has never treated me like a stranger who just walked off the plains of Lothal.” You tapped your chin. “So, yeah, I prefer the silencer.”

He grit his teeth. “You’re no stranger.”

“Sure could’ve fooled me!” A couple of heads turned in your direction.

“Quiet,” he hissed. “It apparently takes very little for you to be fooled.”

“Excuse me?” you replied. “Run that by me again, Supreme Leader?”

“Now your hearing fails you.”

“This is great.” You offered a false smile. “This conversation is going really well.”

Kylo snarled, shoulders bunching with restraint. “You speak this way and then question why you’re unwelcome,” he replied. “Deaf and foolish.”

“Oh!” A frustrated laugh escaped. “Okay, then. Talk to you later, Your Excellency. I need a nap before I keep trying to fix your dumbass ship.”

Shaking your head, you folded your arms over your chest and stormed past him, anger blurring your vision. Stupid fucking asshole--

You made it three steps before a warm leather glove grabbed your shoulder, and you stalled, goosebumps shooting to your hands. Kylo spun you, your face inches from his, your breath fleeing and forgetting to return. His lips trembled, his jaw tightened, his gaze boring into you before it met the floor, seeking to stare anywhere else. The pressure of his fingers was firm, then floating. And then he swallowed, grip crushing your shoulder, his eyes finding you again. 

No one else in the hangar would’ve known, looking at him. But this Kylo Ren was familiar to you. 

This Kylo Ren was terrified.

“I don’t…” His voice was a feather in the air. “You are…” He averted his attention, stiffening. “You have a home.”

Your chest swelled. Water stung your eyes. “I do?”

“Yes,” he replied, utterly sincere. “But not here. Not now.”

Hairline fractures crept into your heart.

“Kylo.” Your composure cracked. All of you wanted to melt, to disintegrate into his being and know each word trapped on his tongue. There was a reason you could not find him, that he would not unfold himself to you. “Please. Why do you want me gone so badly?”

His lips parted, as if he were about to speak--and he paused. He drew in a breath through his nose. “Complications,” he replied. “Factors you do not understand.”

You stepped closer, throat tight. His breath brushed your nose. “Tell me, then.”

Kylo huffed, shifting on his feet--and his face froze. His limbs locked, muscles taut. His gaze widened, fixated on something over your shoulder. Air leaked from him, like time was slowing to a close. You blinked, looked behind you. But nothing was there. 

Frowning, you cleared your throat. “Kylo?” He didn’t even acknowledge you. “You’re really just going to leave it like that?” 

His pupils were pinpricks.

It wasn’t like you were heartless. You knew that he was attempting wasn’t easy. But what you were feeling wasn’t a sail on a skiff either. You didn’t just deserve more. You needed it.

“Okay,” you said, backing out of his hold. “This was nice. But I have a TIE fighter to repair. So.” He didn’t respond. Didn’t even move. “Whatever.”

You turned--Kylo’s focus flicked to you. His mouth dropped, like there were words he wanted to and couldn’t speak. Instead, he remained silent, fury simmering in his gaze while you pivoted away. You didn’t say anything either. You didn’t think you had to.

When you arrived at the silencer, you clambered into the cockpit, like it was a hole you could hide in until he disappeared. Shame, stubbornness, or surrender--you imagined one of these was responsible for why he didn’t pursue you, but you didn’t care. This ship repair would be your parting gift to him, and you could take off, probably spending the rest of your life wondering how you’d managed to fuck up your affair with the galaxy’s most ineligible bachelor.

Loose panels still swarmed the pilot’s chair. You sighed and put on your jacket, settling in and throwing your feet on the dash. Your hand thumped with irritation as you closed your eyes.

Just a couple of hours. That’s all you needed. Then you’d keep working like the foolish little--

Clank.

You yelped, flinching in your seat. 

Clank.

Heart fluttering, you scanned the cockpit before realizing the noise came from outside the ship.

Clank.

It was behind you. Someone was messing with the refuel port. Or the solar lines. You couldn’t tell. Grumbling, you scrambled out of the chair and hoisted yourself up the escape. If they were fucking up this stupid ship even further--

Clankclankclank.

“Hey!” You popped your head free. “Will you...”

For a split second, you’d thought Kylo had decided to rip the solar line access open and tear into his own power supply. But then your vision focused. The man crouched over the ship was a different intimidating masked man dressed only in black. Your stomach twisted. It was the one from the Buzzard. The one who’d shoulder-checked you.

“Kuruk.”

His head whipped in your direction, the talons of his predator’s gaze gouging your chest. He pulled his hands free of the solar lines, his gloves greasy with reactant.

“Lieutenant.” 

Previously you’d thought absolutely no one but Hux could spit that word with that degree of acidity. But if Hux spat it like acid, then Kuruk hocked it--dragged it up through his throat and sputtered it like necrotic phlegm. 

You crawled onto the dorsal plane with the coordinated majesty of a blurrg, trying not to heave  and ruin any level of authority you might have tricked him into thinking you maintained. When you’d made it to both feet, you straightened, as if you did this all the time, and moved toward him.

“What are you doing?” 

“Repairing a starfighter.”

You snorted. “Really,” you replied. “Tearing out a power supply is repairing?”

Kuruk jerked his arm, wrenching free another line, spewing collector dust into the air. “Closer to repairing than sleeping in the cockpit.”

Heat rushed your spine, swathed your neck. “Yeah, well…” You examined him, watching as he cocked his head to avoid the blinders attached to his helmet. “At least I can see properly when I work on a ship.” 

“Magnification’s built into the visor.”

More heat, this time crackling in your cheeks, drying your tongue. “Look,” you said, “this is my job. I don’t need amateurs screwing it up for me.”

He paused, turned his gaze on you again. “Amateurs?”

You shrugged. “In comparison, yeah, probably.”

Kuruk leaned on his heels, wiping his gloves on his jacket. “I don’t think so.”

“Uh, I do.” This man looked like a weapon. Not an engineer. “What experience do you have?”

“It’s called the Night Buzzard,” he replied. “You might be familiar with it.”

You paused, brow raising. “You…” It was impossible to restrain your laughter. But he didn’t move. “You’re kidding. Right? That’s a joke.”

Kuruk’s hands tensed.

“Dude, that ship’s the ugliest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” you replied. “Did you modify it with a boiled chokeroot?”

His head tilted. He rose to stand, so controlled he looked to be fighting gravity. “I can do more work with a boiled chokeroot than you can do with an entire Star Destroyer’s worth of resources,” he drawled. “Lieu. Tenant.” 

The hair on your nape stuck straight, your pulse leapt to the ceiling. But the knowledge that Kylo was within thinking distance abated your fear. 

“Might wanna get one then.” You grinned. “You’re not making much progress here without it.”

He stared, filthy fingers furling into fists--and then relaxed, the tension sloughing like reactor slime from his frame. Silent, he returned to a squat, rending more lines from their channels. For some reason, a tiny, irreverent part of you was disappointed. 

No, that was a lie. You knew why you were disappointed. But this man wasn’t the one you wanted to be taunting into a wild sexual rage. Exhaling, you crossed your arms. 

“It’s still my job,” you said.

“And I’ve been told that once it’s done, you’ll be gone.”

“What?” You gawked. “What the fuck? You, too? I didn’t even do anything to you!”

“Debatable.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re mad because your Master didn’t want you to disrespect an officer.”

“No.” Kuruk’s attention snapped to you. “You’re loud.”

Blood drained from your face. “I’m…”

Moments blinked in your memory like a holodrama. Like how you’d spent the entire time aboard the Buzzard thinking about Kylo slamming you against the dashboard and breaking your pussy open. How you’d mentally undressed him, verbally taunted him, physically ached for him. How you’d blazed with hatred for him and stoked it with longing. And how you’d just noted that you were desperate to wind him into a state of frenzied lust so he’d wreck you entirely.

“Oh, fuck.” You glanced at the hangar’s entrance and wondered how quickly you could hurl yourself into the vacuum of space. Speaking of hurling… “Oh, fuck.”

You couldn’t spare Kuruk another glance. With shaking hands, you fumbled your way to the ground, steadying yourself on your weakening knees. There was no way you were going to spend another minute on this ship trying to fix a starfighter while getting thought-eavesdropped by multiple men, one of whom seemed hell-bent on doing your job for you anyway. 

All you needed to do was find General Hux and get him to reassign you to another station. You’d figure the rest out later when you had time to process your myriad of losses and crippling rejection. You held your breath the entire trek to the command center, only releasing when the doors opened and you spied Hux at the head of the room, briefing someone on something you didn’t care about. 

Wiping your forehead, you trudged over to him. Hux’s gaze darted between you and the other officer, his brow furrowing as you approached.

“A moment,” he said to the man. “Can I help you, Lieutenant?”

Yeah, it definitely sounded worse out of Kuruk’s mouth. “Can I get a new station? I, uh, I need a new station.” The officer peered at you in horror. You coughed, standing at attention. “General. Requesting a new assignment, sir.”

Hux’s lips pursed, his eyes narrowed. “The silencer is already repaired?”

“Uh, no. No, sir, it’s not.” You stared at your shoes. “Still requesting a new assignment. I believe my work here is complete.”

A pause hung in the air. Hux observed you like you were a recently apprehended criminal. He sighed. 

“Dismissed, Captain.” He waited for the man to depart before turning to you. “What do you mean, your work here is complete?”

It was hard to find the appropriate words. “I mean. Uh. Permission to speak freely, sir?”

“No.”

You groaned. “Okay.” A long breath, flooding your lungs with air. “Well. My services are no longer required. My presence is redundant. I cannot return to Orinda. I’m requesting another station.” You exhaled. “Sir.”

Hux’s pink face pinched together. “Something happened with Ren.”

Warmth flushed your neck. “Uh, no--”

“Lieutenant,” he said, like the words were thorns on his tongue, “I unfortunately believe your insight and skill may still be of use to the First Order.” 

“Sir?”

“The TIE project has been approved. You may be just the person to manage it.” 

You balked. “Oh, I don’t know if that’s a good idea--”

“No?” Sharp green eyes pierced you into silence. “I thought you might leap at the opportunity, considering how cruelly the Resistance slaughtered your staff.”

Your heart clenched, your chest speared with pain. Better TIE units wouldn’t save them. But you could at least ensure their loss wouldn’t be in vain. Though you’d never supervised an undertaking of that scale before, the excitement of a challenge glittered in the distance. Glittered, then dimmed under a brooding, Kylo Ren-shaped shadow.

“Well…”

Hux glanced away, gazing through the thick panes of transparisteel, as if offering you any more praise would blind him. “Go to the Supreme Leader. Inform him of my plans.” He offered a slight shrug. “If he disagrees, then so be it. We’ll find you a new station.” The thought was left unfinished--he seemed very confident Kylo would not disagree.

Too bad you disagreed with him. “Yes, sir,” you replied. “I understand. Where might I find the Supreme Leader?”

Hux frowned. “Am I his keeper, Lieutenant?” 

A brief, blissful image of your fist connecting with his chin flashed through your mind. You shook it away.

“No,” you said. “No, sir. I’ll find him. Thank you.”

He nodded. “Dismissed.”

Shooting him a glare, you pivoted on your heel, marching out of the command center. All you needed to do was find where Kylo Ren might be by searching the entirety of this huge Star Destroyer. That would be easy.

[thetravelerwrites]

Dr. Mael Halvorg (Part 3) Lemon

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Male Part-Fae/Female Part-Fae Additional Tags: Exophilia, Monster Boyfriend, Fae, Naga, Reader Insert, Genetics Content Warnings: Children, Pregnancy, Incubation, Oviposition, Egg Laying, Birth, Surgery, Male Infertility Words: 4029

Dr. Halvorg learns what could be causing his infertility and makes arrangements to try and correct it. He and the reader become closer, and the reader attempts to do something to help him feel less lonely and unfulfilled. Please reblog and leave feedback!

The Traveler's Masterlist

Halvorg went in for the tests that same week, returning afterwards subdued and blushing slightly. You assumed he’d never given a… sample… before.

“How’d it go?” You asked him.

He rubbed his neck bashfully. “It was… thorough.”

You snickered. “At least it wasn’t a biopsy after an abnormal pap smear. Those are traumatic.”

He looked aghast. “I can only imagine.”

“Did they say when the results would be in?”

He shook his head. “No, they’re supposed to call me when they come back. Could be a week or so.”

You patted his arm softly. “How are you feeling?”

He sighed heavily. “Worried. This could change my life or confirm my worst fear. Either way, I’m… well, to be honest, I’m a little scared.”

“I understand,” You replied. “Well, no, I don’t. My family is disgustingly fertile. If I ever tried to get pregnant, I’m sure it wouldn’t take me long.” You looked up at him with sympathy. “But I do feel for you.”

“I appreciate that,” He said solemnly. He looked at you curiously. “If I might ask, how old are you?”

“I’ll be one hundred and seventy four years in August,” You said.

“And you’ve never considered having children in that time?” He asked.

“Not really. I figured I had enough nieces and nephews that I didn’t think it was necessary. I mean, I’m not against the idea of having children, I’ve just been career oriented for most of my life and never really settled down in any place for very long. I’ve never been married, never had any serious relationships, never dating with the intent on finding ‘the one.’ I figured if I wanted that, it would come in time and I would let it happen naturally and there was no need to rush it. Does that make sense?”

“It does,” He said. “That’s how I used to be for a good three centuries. It wasn’t until I did marry and tried to make a family and failed, again and again, that I sort of became… obsessed.”

“How many times have you been married?”

“Thirty times, I believe.”

“Were they all human?”

“Most of them were,” He said. “There were a couple of tieflings, a half-orc woman, a faun, a selkie, and a dryad. I stayed with them all until the end of their lives, except the last one who left me. I’m nothing if not devoted.” He cocked his head. “Well, I divorced the dryad. She wasn’t happy that I couldn’t conceive children and berated me for it.”

“Oh, jeez, what a bitch,” You said, frowning.

He snorted. “I may have used similar language at the time.”

“I can’t imagine you calling someone a bitch,” You said, side-eyeing him.

“I was a different man in my youth,” He said, smiling. “I’ve got some papers to file. I’ll see you later.”

You waved him off, watching him walk briskly and frowned. He’d lost so much, been disappointed so often, given up on the things he wanted for himself to help others. He was using what he had to give others what he wanted, and as noble a pursuit as that was, it was also rather sad. And what if he got the news he was dreading the most. He’d be devastated.

Was there anything you could do to make him feel better? Was there something you could give him that would make him feel less… incomplete? The only time he seemed genuinely happy was when he was with the children. What else could give him the same joy?

The boy. It came to you suddenly. What about the boy he thought was his son? The one he raised until his mother left with him? Could you find him? Was he alive?

At lunchtime, you sat down with Amai in the cafeteria.

“Can I ask a favor of you?” You asked.

“Sure, what is it?” She responded, sipping her coffee. She always craved coffee when she was incubating and downed gallons of it after laying.

“The boy Halvorg raised, what was his name?”

“Robert, I think?” She said. “I can ask Yenuno, he knows.”

“What year was he born?”

“Uhhh… 1901 or around there.”

“What was his mother’s name?”

“Martha--why are you asking about this?”

You sighed. “I want to find Halvorg’s son. He may be dead now, but I have to try. Halvorg is so unhappy, he’s just gotten really good at hiding it. I want to give him some kind of closure.”

Amai winced in sympathy. “Yeah, I know what you mean. Spending all these years around him, I can see how much he’s hurting, even if he tries to mask it.” She sighed. “I have some contacts at the census archives and I can make some inquiries. I’ll check the lineages websites and find as many records as I can.” Amai snorted. “Maybe he’ll be less uptight.”

“Amai!” You retorted.

“Sorry, sorry!” Amai held her hands up. “I’m sorry, it’s a reflex by now, sorry. This is serious. I’ll look into it.”

“Thank you,” You said with a warning tone. “This is serious.”

“I know,” Amai said, her face more solemn. “I’ll do what I can.”

“Thank you,” You repeated. “I’m sorry to put more work on you, though.”

She tsked at you. “Please, I always take maternity leave during Yenuno’s time incubating. I generally have nothing to do but keep the big guy company while he’s stuck in one place. It’ll give me something to do.”

Halvorg got the call a few days later and informed you of the appointment time. You offered to drive him, and he gratefully accepted.

“Are you alright?” You asked him.

He took a deep breath and blew it out through pursed lips. “I don’t know. This is either a new beginning or the end of the road. I don’t know how to feel.”

“I’ll be with you, no matter what,” You told him.

He grimaced in a failed attempt to smile. “Thank you.”

The two of you sat in the waiting room for a moment before being called back into an exam room. He sat there in his chair and fidgeted nervously. You put your hand on his and held it. He looked up at you with fear in his eyes and didn’t shake you off.

The doctor knocked on the door and let himself in. Halvorg straightened up, releasing your hand.

“Alright, Dr. Halvorg,” He said, sitting at the table. “We Have your results back. Blood and urine came back normal, and there’s nothing abnormal on your x-rays.” He flipped on the computer screen on the desk in front of him and pulled up Halvorg’s file. “However, there was abnormalities in your sperm sample and the MRI.”

“What type of abnormalities?”

“Well, first of all, your semen sample didn’t have any sperm in it.”

Halvorg looked confused. “What?”

“It’s a condition known as Azoospermia. It’s basically when there’s a blockage somewhere that’s trapping the sperm, which is why there weren’t any little swimmers in your sample.” The doctor clicked on one of the tabs and opened an MRI of Halvorg’s pelvic area and pointed out the anomalies. “The MRI confirms it. There doesn’t appear to be a connection between your epididymus and your vas diferens, and without that connection, the sperm is completely blocked. There’s also a blockage from your testes to the urethra. You appear to have been born with all of these blockages.”

“How does that happen?”

“As to that,” The doctor said, looking at the paperwork he came in with. “Your genetics test came back, and it appears that you have a mutation of Cystic Fibrosis. Thankfully, with this mutation, there are no other typical symptoms of Cystic Fibrosis besides the infertility.”

“Can it be corrected?” Halvorg asked anxiously.

“Yes, microsurgery can correct it. Before we do that, we’ll need to take a sample directly from the testicle with a needle to see if you’re producing sperm at all and look at the count. If we determine that the general sperm production is not the problem, then we’ll proceed with surgery.”

Halvorg sat in a stunned silence, gripping his knees tightly.

“So… it’s possible that I could have children?” He asked.

“There is a possibility,” The doctor said. “We would have to wait until after the surgery and take another sample. I don’t want to get your hopes up too soon, the sperm count could be low, they could be abnormal. There are a bunch of things that could go wrong.”

“But there’s a chance?” Halvorg asked, his eyes as wide and vulnerable as a puppy.

“There’s a chance,” The doctor replied.

As the two of you left the clinic and headed to your car, before you could get to your door, Halvorg gently took your arm, swung you around, took your face in his hands, and kissed you full on the mouth. You made a sound of surprise, but you didn’t push him away.

He lingered for a moment or two before breaking away and saying, “I’m sorry, I know that was extremely unprofessional and probably unwanted, but I don’t know how to thank you. I owe you so much, I can’t begin to express how grateful I am.” He gulped and looked at you earnestly, breathing out a shaky breath. “Do you remember when you asked me to dinner?”

“Yeah?” You asked, confused but intrigued by the sudden softening of his prickly exterior.

“Does the offer still stand?”

You smiled at him slowly and took his hands. They were trembling. This was the first time in a century he’d asked a woman out, after all.

“Yeah,” You replied, stepping closer so that your body lightly brushed his. “Yeah, it does.”

He smiled wide and kissed you again.

Maël went in the next day to have a sample taken, and was thrilled to learn that he did have a decent amount of sperm production. He scheduled the surgery immediately. The recovery time would be at least six weeks, and it was advised that he didn’t try to have sexual relations for another two weeks after that. Plenty of time to feel out your new blooming relationship and get more comfortable with each other.

Thankfully, you had a week to actually go on a few dates before he went under the knife. He took you to Dunmountain on a weekend trip to the museum and the opera. It was the first time you’d done anything like this recreationally in a really long time, and you loved every second of it.

Even though you were sharing a hotel room and a bed, he didn’t attempt to be intimate with you, and you didn’t push him. It had been a century since he last took a woman to bed, and you imagined he felt a little nervous about it.

You didn’t go out of your way to tell people that you were together, but it wasn’t a big secret either. Yenuno and Amai were overjoyed for the two of you. Maël had told Yenuno and Amai about the surgery, but he claimed it was a hernia. You weren’t sure if he would tell them the whole truth. Not unless he got the results he wanted.

By the time he healed completely, it would be about time for the eggs to hatch. Yenuno was already restless and it had only been a month.

You drove Maël to the surgical clinic on the day of his surgery, sat with him in pre-op while he waited nervously and just talked him through his anxiety, holding his hand when they put the IV in. They gave him some medicine to help calm his nerves, and he began to grow sleepy. You stroked his head and watched his eyes fluttered closed. They wheeled him into surgery while he was still snoozing.

The procedure didn’t take very long, only about an hour, and you waited to be called back. A nurse came to retrieve you and took you to his room.

He lay there in bed, drifting in and out.

“Hey, sweetie,” You said, rubbing his arm. “How are we feeling?”

“Sore and thirsty,” He croaked.

You picked up the cup with water in it the nurse had provided and helped him take a sip.

“I’m not surprised you’re sore,” You remarked, setting the cup back down. “A whole bunch of people fondled your balls for an hour.”

He wheezed a laugh. You loved it when he laughed. It changed his whole face. “Did they say when they’d release me?”

“As soon as you can pee on your own, they’ll let you out of here. They said there would be swelling so it might be a while before you’re able to do it, though. I’ll wait.”

He held his hand out for yours and you took it.

“I feel like all I do these days is thank you,” He said. “I wish I could do as much for you as you’ve done for me.”

“You don’t have to do anything for me,” You said. “I’m a strong, independent woman who don’t need no man. But I’ll keep you around. You’re cute.”

He breathed another laugh through his nose. “I’m glad. I’ve become rather fond of you.”

You kissed his knuckles. “Likewise.”

He managed to relieve himself right after dinnertime, and was declared clear to go home. You drove him back to the facility and helped him to bed. He was asleep before you left his apartment.

Heading back into your own apartment for the night and sat heavily on your couch. God, you needed to do laundry. It had been a chaotic few weeks.

You started picking up clothes that were strewn haphazardly over furniture, and while picking up a pair of jeans, a small book fell out.

Oh. Right. Maël’s research notes. You’d meant to give it back. Well, Maël was going to be recovering in bed for a few days and likely sleeping most of that time. You could give it back when he was back on his feet. You placed it in the drawer of your nightstand, stared at it for a minute, and went on to start laundry.

And promptly forgot about it for a second time.

Maël slowly healed, though he walked a little stiffly for a few weeks and was careful when sitting. He was a little more irritable than normal, but you imagined he was trying to adjust and was also still worried about whether or not the surgery had worked. He wouldn’t know for another several weeks.

The children kept bringing him flowers they found in the forest to cheer him up, which always seemed to lift his spirits. You spent the evenings with him, talking and cuddling and kissing. You felt like a teenager again, and you hadn’t been a teenager in over one hundred and fifty years.

You were starting to regret the timing of the surgery, though. Sometimes the making out would get pretty hot and heavy, and you had to force yourselves to stop for fear of injuring him.

One night after you’d been dating for just under two months, he was kissing your neck and began to unbutton your shirt. You stopped him.

“You haven’t been cleared for intercourse, have you?” You asked him.

“No, not yet,” He said, breathing heavily and biting his lip. His white-blonde hair was out of it’s normal clean braid and falling around his face. “But I can do something for you.” His hand drifted down your abdomen and between your thighs.

“Oh,” You said, smiling a little. “Are you sure?”

He slipped his hand into your panties and stroked you, and your breath caught in your throat.

“I haven’t done it in a while,” He said, trailing open-mouthed kisses down your stomach. “But I think I still know how to do this.”

He got up from the couch and pulled you by your legs gently so that you were laying flat, pushing up your skirt and pulling off your panties. He knelt back down on the couch, yanking off his tie and unbuttoning his shirt. He slowly spread your legs and pushed your knees upward. He started kissing and sucking the inside of your thigh while circling your bud with his thumb. You moaned and lay back into the cushions, giving over to the sensations.

As he kissed his way toward the apex, he slipped his middle finger inside you and thrust it gently in and out. You whimpered and gripped the couch, your hips grinding against his hand.

“Maël, please,” You breathed.

He growled low in his throat, sending a shockwave through your spine.

“Since you said please,” He whispered teasingly, and pressed his tongue to your clit. Your toes curled at the contact and you grabbed a handful of his hair.

“Oh god,” You whispered. “Maël.”

He placed his whole mouth over you, licking and sucking, adding another finger inside you. He certainly did remember how to do this.

“Fuck!” You said through gritted teeth, followed up by a shuddering moan, raising your head to watch him. He looked up at you through his long lashes and doubled his efforts, sucking your labia into his mouth and pulling, adding a third finger. “Fuck, I’m so close.”

Still sucking, he grinned up at you and quirked an eyebrow. He withdrew his fingers and used his hands to push your knees into your chest to open you up wider. You grabbed his head with both hands and rocked your clit against his tongue.

You came as though hit by a bus, loud and violent. Your butt lifted off of the couch as you pulsed in ecstasy, screaming. You hoped the walls of his apartment were soundproof. You couldn’t believe that he’d made you come in under a minute.

“How? How did you do that?” You wheezed.

He chuckled darkly. “I was married thirty times, darling. If I don’t know what I’m doing by now, I shouldn’t be dating at all.”

You just sort of laid there like a starfish while you got your breath back and cooled down. Maël went to fetch you some water and a snack. Eventually, you found your underwear and put it back on. Once your heart rate had slowed, he pulled you into his lap and kissed you slowly until you fell asleep. The next morning, you woke up next to him in his bed. You were tucked up under his arm and he was sleeping peacefully, a small smile on his face.

Suddenly, both of your cellphones buzzed at once. Maël snorted awake and untangled himself from you, picking up his phone, looking at it, and jumping out of bed.

“What’s wrong?”

“The eggs are hatching!” He exclaimed hastily, pulling clothes out of drawers and putting them on hurriedly. You threw your clothes on and joined Maël’s mad dash for the door.

When you got to the receiving area, the kids were milling around inside, instructed to stay away from the cottage until the babies were born, but they were craning their necks to see what was happening.

Amai was in the shelter with Yenuno and several members of the hatching team, looking into the circle of his tail. She looked up and saw the two of you running up and shouted: “Hurry! They’re almost out!”

You and Maël darted up the ramp and looked down into the coil. All three of the eggs were cracked open and little arms and tails were poking out.

“Vitals?” Maël asked, donning a surgeon’s paper outfit and instructing you to do the same.

“Vitals are elevated but within acceptable range,” One of the nurses said.

“Good,” Maël said. “Alright, we just have to stand back. They’ll do most of the work.

Amai and Yenuno were watching the eggs hatch with awe on their faces. You supposed watching this never got old for them. You wondered if they would miss this now that they decided to stop laying.

Slowly, the little wiggling figures freed themselves from their shells and were crawling around on their hands, looking up at their parents. Maël used that distraction to examine them.

“No way…” He said in a hushed tone. “I don’t believe it.”

“What?” Amai asked a little shrilly. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Maël said, grinning up at her. “They’re all girls.”

“What?!” Yenuno and Amai said in unison, looking at their new little ones.

From what Maël had told you, the ratio of male to female births of Blue Gill Nagas was disproportionately skewed in favor of males. One in twenty eggs contained a female. Having an entire clutch of females was extremely rare.

Yenuno and Amai cried with joy and excitement. They’d been hoping to have at least one more little girl. To get three in one go was overwhelming.

Maël supervised the clean up process, and when they were ready, Yenuno and Amai brought the three baby girls out and introduced them to their siblings. You watched on the ramp with Maël, smiling, and took his hand. He squeezed yours in return. Looking up at his face, you could see he was crying, too.

This is what Maël wanted. He wanted to be the first to say hello to his own child, to be the first to hold them, to be the first to tell them he loved them. He wanted to kiss their brow and dance with them when they were crying and sing them to sleep at night. To get on the floor and play with them and put bandaids on their knees when they scraped them. He was desperate to experience that again, like he had with his son.

After the hatching, Maël went to file the new birth paperwork and Amai and Yenuno and their children were spending the next few days together. That left you with nothing to do.

Back in your apartment, you lay in your bed, thinking about that morning over and over. The babies busting out of their shells, the look of joy on their parents’ faces, the mix of happiness and pain on Maël’s.

You sat up to get your lip balm from your night table, and again found the book. You really ought to give it back. You’d been absent-minded about this for too long.

You opened it, flipping through pages until you landed on the date you first arrived at the facility. Intrigued, you read it.

“Amai’s friend finally made it today. It was exciting to meet her; I’ve been following her career for so long. She’s done so much for the non-human community. Amai didn’t tell me how breathtakingly beautiful she was. My heart stopped when I saw her out of the window. I haven’t felt attraction like this in centuries.”

Oh. Oh god. This was his personal diary. You knew you should stop reading it, but couldn’t. You had no idea he’d felt this way.

“I think I’m flirting with her, but I’m not trying to. I can’t help it. She’s funny and intelligent and everything I love in a woman. She’s gorgeous. I don’t know what to do. I’m trying so hard to stay professional, but I can seem to stop smiling around her.”

The next entry was the day you asked him to dinner.

“She asked me out on a date tonight. It was so hard to say no, but there’s no point, is there? She won’t want me if she knows I can’t have children. She’ll either leave me or mock me. There’s no point. I’ll avoid her. That’s all I can do. It’s best if I don’t get closer to her. Even friendship is dangerous. I’m already half in love with her, and I don’t think I could take it if we started a relationship and she ended up pitying me or disgusted. I can’t do it again.”

There were no more mentions of you in the book after that. You didn’t realize you were crying until the tears hit the page.

It was then that you made a decision.

You took out your phone and dialed your gynecologist’s office. “Hi, Grace, I’d like to schedule a consultation with the doctor about canceling my next birth control injection.”

Since my work is no longer searchable, please do me a favor and reblog this story if you enjoyed it. Help me reach a wider audience! To help me continue creating, please consider buying me a Kofi, becoming a Patron, or donating directly to my PayPal!

Thanks for reading!

My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

[subbing-for-clones]

The Alpha and The Omega Part 1

Alpha!Maul x Omega!Reader     

Word Count: 4.5k

Summary: A Jedi Padawan prepares for her trials to become a knight but learns something new about herself that leads to her having to leave the order. With a fear of the large galaxy and a new, unexpected companion she has to learn to live with herself and how to survive an unforgiving environment.

WARNINGS: fear, going into heat (no sex), nudity. A/B/O dynamics

A/N: Maul is not actually in this chapter. He shows up in the next just so everyone is aware. This chapter establishes what my version of an alpha and omega are. No y/n

NEXT         MASTERLIST

       You had never been so hungry in your life. Master Plo Koon, Master Qui Gon Jinn and your fellow padawan Obi Wan all watched you in various levels of amazement and bewilderment as you worked on your third helping of whatever kind of stew the cafeteria had prepared. Your master however, was chuckling under his de-oxygenator.

“Are you alright little one?” Qui Gon asked with a brow quirked. If you paid attention, you’d have guessed he was more impressed than his horrified padawan at the immense amount of food you were consuming. You couldn’t pause between each spoonful long enough to answer him so your master spoke.

“For the last few days, she’s been utterly insatiable.”

“Are you quite sure you don’t have a parasite or something?” Obi Wan asked with a concerned frown. Your only response was shooting him a glaring look before continuing to eat ravenously. Clearing your bowl, you stood and went to drop off your empty dish with the rest of the dirty dishes followed by your friend.

“I am starting to become concerned for my padawan. At first I assumed that the rise in her nerves were caused by her upcoming trials for her knighthood but I’m not so sure.”

“What else is going on with her?” Qui Gon eyed you as you left the cafeteria followed by Obi Wan, no doubt to continue your studies.

“She’s always struggled with controlling some of her stronger emotions but she has made immense improvements over the years under my tutelage. However, the last few days it almost seems like she’s reverted back. She’s not outward with them in the least but I can sense them through our bond. She’s incredibly quick to anger and sadness specifically.”

Qui Gon furrowed his brows and sat pensively for a moment before asking, “you don’t think she could be pregnant, do you?”

“No, that’s not an option. She hasn’t left the temple in months except for her training mission on Hoth and it was just the two of us. Over the last few months, she has been fervently preparing for her trials bouncing back and forth between the archives, the meditation gardens and sparing with various willing masters. Even if she did find the time, with how emotional she’s been I would’ve sensed something but I don’t think she even has any idea what’s going on.”

“Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help. I’ve always liked her and appreciated her friendship with my padawan. Have the healers take a look at her if you can convince her to let them.”

“Yes, that might be a good idea.”

      You had in fact spent the remainder of the evening in the archives with your long-time friend Obi Wan attempting to study while dodging his various inquiries to your condition. At the end of the night, you fought the urge to slam the doors behind you while you urged him for the hundredth time that you were fine. Walking back to your sparse room in the living quarters you realized that you were in fact not fine. You had never felt anything but safe living here at the temple, surrounded by your peers and masters. Now though, a sense of dread formed in the pit of your stomach. You hadn’t the slightest clue as to why. Yes, your trials were approaching in the following months but you felt completely prepared for them.

    Your skin felt hot under your robes and the second you entered your private quarters you stripped out of them, hopping through a quick cold shower. It only granted you a temporary relief and by the time you left the ‘fresher you were burning up and feeling way too exposed, even within the confines of your small room. You watched your hands pull the mattress off of its rails and onto the floor. Gathering up all of your spare blankets and robes you had, you bunched up a makeshift perimeter along the edges before climbing into the center and curling up, not bothering to dress before-hand.

    Rest did not come to you that night. You woke frequently in cold shakes and waves of fear despite your best efforts to push them away, panic always on the edges of your mind and intense cramping in your abdomen.

      The following morning when you had not come down for your first meal Master Plo reached out to you through the force, when he sensed your terror, he practically ran back to the living quarters, banging on your door. When you only answered with chocked whimpers, he unlocked the door with the force and drew his lightsaber. His initial worry was sated momentarily finding that you were alone but was quickly replaced when he saw the state you were it.

    You lay in the center of your clumsily made ‘nest’ naked and covered in a thin sheet of sweat shivering violently. The only sounds that left you were terrified, incoherent mumbles, eyes widened in alarm.

“M- master… help me. I -… I don’t know what.. what’s happening,” you sobbed.

Plo removed his large brown cloak and quickly covered you with it. When you were properly concealed, he lifted you in his arms and rushed to the healers. Utterly confused by your state.

       Hours of examinations and blood tests did nothing to sate your unease but did well to expand it. You had begged your master to stay by your side, clutching onto the one person you felt remotely safe around. He only left when one of the healers came to your bedside and beckoned him away with a worried look in her eye. It took several attempts to assure you that he would be right back, utter panic setting in once again once he left but you could feel the waves of tranquility he sent you through the force.

“What do her blood reports show?” he asked with his arms crossed.

“Well master that’s where it gets kind of tricky. She seems to be exhibiting symptoms of a heat cycle.”

“But, humans don’t go through heat cycles. Wait, do they?” Plo asked.

“No, they don’t. I tested her for exposure to various strains of the sex pollen but they all came up negative. To ease her pain, I gave her a dose of a common suppressant that some of our resident Jedi use to help their own cycles but it didn’t take. That led me to perform a genome test.”

“And did you find anything?”

“Yes, she has the Omega gene.”

“Oh… Oh. Well, that is, unfortunate...”

“She’s terrified and feeling exposed. I wanted to tell you first so you could decide if she should hear it from you or me. She seems to feel safest with you.”

Plo thought for a moment, “I think I should tell her.”

 “What the fuck is an Omega gene?!” you were still shaking, trying to fight off the arousal that had taken root in your belly that swirled with your fright.

“It is an uncommon genome; its sole purpose is to ensure survival of a species. Most commonly men develop the Alpha and women the Omega although there are records of it being the other way around. Almost every species in the galaxy has at least a few Alphas and Omegas.”

“And the suppressants didn’t work because..?”

“Because it is stronger than a common heat cycle. It is a mutation that developed not just to ensure frequent breeding but survival of a species on a grand scale.”

You broke out into uncontrollable sobs; when your master tried to soothe you with a touch to your shoulder you jumped and growled at him, surprising you both before falling back into your distress.

      Over the following weeks you could feel the change in your peers’ attitude towards you. They would snicker if you passed by and taunt you silently behind your back. You could feel the unease the masters felt when you came into close proximity. Even Master Qui Gon was hesitant around you. You did however still have Obi Wan. Still the loyal friend he had always been.

    It took more searching than you thought but with his help you were able to find information cataloged by only one author.

“Did you really build a nest?” he asked, void of any judgement, looking over your shoulder at the writings.

“Yes, I did,” you said without taking your eyes off of the tome. “It says here that its genetic and pops up every few generations…”

“Your birth mother probably had no idea.”

“No, I don’t suppose she did. It says here I have scent glands? On my neck, my wrists, between my breasts and on my hips..” Obi wan leaned in and gave you an undignified sniff, you smacked him away.

“I can’t smell anything, just that minty shampoo you like so much.”

“That’s because you’re not an Alpha bantha brains,” you flustered.

“You don’t need to be rude about it,” he chuckled, “I’m just trying to lighten the mood here. You’ve been so sad since you found out. What, your heat will come once every few months right? It can’t be that bad.”

“It really is terrible; you have no idea. It’s not even the heat that I’m worried about.”

“Well, what has you so worked up then?”

“It says here that being an Omega is dangerous, the Alphas are often times violent and that they can smell me long before they see me… I’m safe here at the temple but what if they kick me out of the Order?”

“You’re not going to be kicked out.”

“I very well could be!” you pushed yourself out from behind the desk and huffed, “being a Jedi means no attachments, be one with the force, calm and collected, rational and compassionate. I am none of those things when the heat comes and no suppressants can stop it. What if it’s enough to pull me to the dark side? What if the council decides I am too big of a risk to everyone here to keep me around? Needs of the many always outweigh the needs of the few.”

      Sure enough, it was less than a week before the council called you to stand before them. The room was silent, the faces that painted the members was grave. You could tell that whatever decision they came to was a long argued one. It was the look on your Master’s face that made a sadness ring through your heart.

“Do you know why we called you here?” Master Windu asked.

You inhaled deeply and sighed, “I think I have an idea..”

“Please understand padawan that if we had known you were an Omega, we wouldn’t have recruited you to the Order. We simply can’t have an Omega or an Alpha within our ranks.”

“I…I think I understand Master.”

“Understand how you feel, we do.” The Grandmaster said with a grave tone and a nod.

“Forgive me Master but, no, you don’t. With reason or not, I have had my birth family cast me out into your care because I was force sensitive and now, my second family does the same because of a gene I carry.” Your eyes flashed angrily. Abandoned again because of what you were. “I will gather my things and be gone before nightfall,” you turned on your heel and strode out of the council chambers, leaving the heavy sighs behind you as you fought tears.

    When you finally reached your quarters the dam broke. Fat tears and wailing sobs poured out of you while your heart bled. Fear, pain, self-disgust all swirling in your mind. You had no idea what you were going to do, where you were going to go. You barely heard the knock against your door while you tried to wipe the salty wetness from your eyes. When you composed yourself as much as you could you opened the door to your Master and Obi Wan, both looking solemn.

“May we come it?” your master asked. Standing aside you allowed them entrance. “I voted no. I don’t think the council is making the right choice in this matter.”

“Thank you Master but the result is the same, with all due respect,” you pushed past him and starting shoving your sparse belongings into a travel bag pausing only when your friend stood in your way.

“I-I’m going to miss you..” he looked down at his feet.

“Oh Obi,” fresh tears wet your lashes. “I’m going to miss you to,” you pulled him into a tight hug. “I know you still have a few more years before your trials but; you’re going to make a wonderful knight.” His only response was to hug you tighter.

“The council has allocated a small fund for you young one. Because of the nature of your departure and the fact that you never broke the code or did anything wrong…” Master Plo held out a large purse filled with credits, “I hope it’s enough to get you settled somewhere until you can find something to do..” you took the purse and wrapped your arms around your Master’s waist.

    Thanking him silently for everything. For raising you, teaching you everything you knew and again for advocating for you. You gathered your one personal item aside from your clothes, a holo-pic Obi Wan had taken of you and your Master standing on a cliff overlooking the water on Naboo. At the time he said he took it because you looked like a knight with your straight back and hands clasped behind your back, mirroring Plo perfectly. You thought him silly at the time but now; you felt grateful.

      Months later you found yourself waitressing in a dirty little cantina on one of the lower levels of the city. The credits given to you were enough to pay for a dingy little studio apartment and the owner of the cantina owed Qui Gon a favor for some reason. Giving you a job made them even. You were drifting through your new life. Every night you would show up in your too tight, too short uniform and serve various drunkards and bounty hunters. Every morning you would stumble your way back to your new home utterly exhausted. When your heat hit your boss was understanding enough to give you time off so you could cry and feel the terrible pain and loneliness in peace.

    A few days after your last heat, the third one you had ever experienced; you were back to work. It was a pretty slow night. The atmosphere was surprisingly calm in the run-down little bar. You heard the door creak open while you were in the kitchen grabbing an order for a young starry eyed Rodian obviously new to the city. You looked around the kitchen smelling something strange, something incredibly strong, smokey and musky. It only got stronger when you dropped off the plate. Your eyes met the new customer’s, a lone Duro looked up at you from under the lip of a worn wide brimmed hat. A smile grew across his face as you approached cautiously.

“Hey there little lady. Where’s your Alpha?”

    A serious trepidation squeezed your insides as you realized exactly what it was you were smelling. The man in front of you was an Alpha. There was no doubt about it, if he could smell you, it was true. Your feet moved faster than your brain and carried you out of the bar, ignoring your boss’s bellowing. You pounded into the duracrete until you reached your little room. Opening the door as quickly as you could with trembling fingers you slunk into a shadowy corner. Tears pricked in the corners of your eyes as the cool night breeze drifted through the window.

    Window. As soon as you thought the thought his scent flowed through it, he followed right behind, slinging his lithe body through the opening. Standing silhouetted in the flickering streetlights, you backed up until you hit the door. His long leather trench coat fluttered around his calves. You could hardly process how he lifted his palms up to you and tried to calm you down.

“What in the seven hells’ the matter with you ‘mega?” you lifted your hand and force pulled your light saber into your grasp and ignited the blue blade.

“Whoa whoa whoa there little lady. Calm down I’m not gonna hurt you.. been a while since I seen another one a us. Outside Corellia at least.” His voice was smooth with a rasp to it, his eyes glowed bright red in the low lighting, your saber casting a blue glow over the room.

“Never seen a Jedi ‘mega before,” he started.

“I’m no longer a Jedi,” you spat. It was the first thing you could say to the Alpha before you.

“You gotta calm down girl. I told you I’m not gonna hurt you,” he was inching closer to you.

“What do you want with me?” you tightened your grip and clenched your teeth, causing him to halt again on the stained floor.

“Where’s your Alpha? I can’t smell him.”

“You’re the first one I’ve met.”

“Listen I wanna help. Obviously if you’re here the Jedi gave you the boot. I’m gonna go out on a limb here, they found out when the suppressors didn work on ya.”

You sheathed your blade and lowered your head in sorrow.

“How long you been on your own?”

“A few months,” you looked up and wished you were back in the temple. You missed the gardens, you missed the archives, you missed your friend.. The Duro eyed you carefully like he could read your history just from your face before he scrunched his eyes up in confusion.

“Diddn they even tell you shit or did they just give you a pat and ‘good luck’?”

Your lack of a response was response enough; he sighed and muttered curses under his breath.

“Listen, most of us Alphas aren’t dangerous. We’re leaders, protectors. Omegas aren’t weak, you’re our second in command so to speak.” Your eyes widened at him. “I wanna help you.. I kinda feel like I have to. My mate would’ve if she was still around…” his eyes dimmed, “some of the Alphas can be shitty but it’s the others you gotta worry about. Slavers like buying your kind up and sellin em to the highest bidder. Sometimes they got a paid Alpha to sniff you out, some of em got hounds that can pick out your scent. If you stay here, you’re sittin pretty an ripe for their pickin.”

“What happened to your Omega?” your voice was quiet and cautious. You didn’t know if you could trust him or not but if he found you, others would be able to soon too.

“Trandoshans… I was off on a hunt; left her at home. Thought it was too dangerous for her to come with… I tried to find her, looked everywhere, called in every favor, went broke on bribes… never found her.”

Some primal, instinctual part of your heart broke for him. You had no idea what it was like to have a mate but you thought you’d rather die than lose yours and the look on his face confirmed that, he would too.

“Look, take it or not but this is me reaching my hand out. Tryin to make sure that what happened to her, doesn’t happen to you. Bounty huntings lucrative if you nab the right contracts. I can get you set up… the moving around ‘s safer than sitting still.”

    You thought for a few minutes, pondering the information this man dumped on you all at once. Your Jedi brain told you not to trust him; that this guy was bad news, but you weren’t a Jedi anymore. They were the reason you were sitting here trying to decide if you could trust him or not. So, you listened to your Omega gut and it told you to go with him; and that’s what you did.

      You spent a year with Cad Bane and if you were being honest, it was the best year of your life. He introduced you to the Bounty Hunters Guild by the name ‘Mega. Told you if they found out you were a former Jedi you wouldn’t get contracts so you went with it. There was even a whole house of the guild that was dedicated to Alphas and Omegas a secret little society that you had been welcomed into. He taught you how to use a blaster, damn well too. Your light saber was a hidden last resort to use only if you were about to be killed and you left no survivors. The two of you galivanted across the galaxy bringing in dangerous, high paying bounties.

    He taught you about the sub culture of the Alphas and the Omegas and helped explain some of the odd tendencies you showed but didn’t understand. He was respectful during your heat and let you wait it out locked in the cabin while he slept in the cockpit. Occasionally you’d ask him to put a hand on the back of your neck to cool you down. His cold-blooded hands were the perfect ice pack for your fevered skin.

    Not once did he ever try to scent you. To say he was friendly though would’ve been a lie. You had a companionable silence most of the time. You could count the times you made him smile on one hand. Most of which were when you got extra rough with a difficult quarry. The only other time was when some guy tried to hit on you in a cantina while you and Bane celebrated the largest reward you had ever gotten. You pressed the barrel of your blaster into his balls so hard, without even looking at him, he cried. Life was… good. Life was actually good. After the costs of resupply and fuel he gave you half of whatever was left over.

    That’s how you got to where you were now. On Corellia in a ship yard looking to buy your own transport. Bane had introduced you to the Guild Master on this planet, long having gained membership with him as a sponsor and you got yourself a few of your own pucks. He stood beside you now as you tossed the credits to the seller and loaded up your new; well new to you, ship.

“Better than my first ship that’s for damn sure,” Bane said as he walked around it. It wasn’t large, it wasn’t small either, but it had a kitchenette, a cabin and a carbon-freezing chamber in the small cargo bay below deck. “That freezers gonna let you pick up a few bounties at a time,” he noted, leaning against the doorframe of the cabin, watching you put away your clothes and setting up the holo-pic of you and Plo by the large bed.    

“That’s the plan. Move around as much as possible. Get rich on these dumbasses,” you moved to toss the pucks into your bag.

“Listen ‘Meg,” he straightened up, clenched his jaw and looked at the floor, “it was shitty goin for me for a long time. It’s gonna get shitty again and stay that way for the rest of my life but; well, you made it less shitty,” he was visibly uncomfortable.

“Don’t go getting all warm blooded on me now Bane,” you shot him a sad smile. You had to move on. He wasn’t your Alpha and you weren’t his Omega. You didn’t really think you would find a mate of your own but you could feel it through the force; as much as you relieved some of his stress, you made him miss his mate.

“Don’t get your hopes up sweetheart, I like you but not that much,” he smirked, “you got my commlink channel set up in there right?” his thumb pointed to the cockpit.

“Yeah I got it.”

“Don’t hesitate if you get in over your head kid. I mean it ‘Meg, don’t be so proud you go and get yourself killed.”

“I won’t, I promise Bane.”

“Good,” he walked over to you and for a second you thought he was actually going to hug you; what he did was a bigger shock. He took his hat off and placed it on your head. Your eyes widened to saucers and you looked at him almost confused. A grin cracked your lips when he pulled a new, bigger one out of no where and shrugged his shoulders.

“I like this one better anyway,” he turned to leave the hull but not before rasping out a “see you around ‘Meg, give em all seven hells out there,” over his shoulder.

You made your way to the cockpit, pulling Bane’s hat down tighter on your head and running your finger across the brim; watching him leave the shipyard through the view port with one last swish of his coat. You were sad to watch that gun slinging bastard go but thanked the maker he found you, thanked the maker that you followed him that night.

    You ran through your preflight checklist and started her up ‘The Wolf.’ You liked the way it sounded. Pulling up into the atmosphere and punching in the coordinates for Lothal, the highest priced bounty in your current collection. You pulled back the lever, shooting you into hyperspace. You made your way back to your cabin and picked up the holo-pic of you and your master. You wondered what he was doing right now. If he had taken in a new padawan. You hoped he had; he was a wonderful master; the best you could’ve asked for. You wondered if he thought about you as much as you thought about him. You smiled, probably. He always had trouble not forming attachments. You set the picture back down and pulled another one out of your bag. You had tried to keep it a secret from Bane but you were sure he knew about it.

    It was from the night you almost took off the nuts of the guy who tried flirting with you. You had bought a round for everyone in the small cantina out of your own pocket, you were so excited about taking down the biggest quarry the two of you had seen to date. Several beings of different species all raised a glass of various liquors in your honor while Bane faced the bar not looking at you, the smallest smirk on his face below the rim of the hat you were wearing now. The smile you had on in this picture might be the biggest you’ve ever made. You set it down next to the one of you and Plo and compared the two, hardly believing you were the same person. You weren’t, but they were both you.

    You kicked your boots off and plopped down on the bed, arms crossed behind your head and the hat tilted over your eyes. This was it; this was living.

[watchyourbluesturngolden]

the exact opposite of weak

This is a story entirely based on my experience with a chronic illness. Everyone’s experience is different, and everyone’s experience is valid. 

Here is the link to the Cleveland Clinic’s page about POTS, just in case you want some more information :)

also yes, there is another mention of grey’s anatomy in this, there will probably be lots more, because that show is one of two things keeping me alive rn, I think you can guess who the other one is

word count: 1.3k

warnings: fainting and chronic illness

in your opinion, POTS is the worst chronic illness. Of course, you may be biased. Especially since it happens to be the one you suffer from. But really, it is pretty bad. 

You were one of the luckier ones who could still live a mostly normal life. You had been diagnosed when you were still a teenager, so you'd mostly figured out how to deal with it.

For you, it caused headaches, stomach pain, rapid heart rate, poor circulation, and heat intolerance (meaning you couldn't have too hot of a shower without your heart feeling like it was going to jump out of your chest).

Despite all this, you hadn't told Harry yet. You kept your symptoms under control well with a few medications and a lot of self care. You didn't want to burden him or make him think you were weak. So, you just didn't tell him. The longer your relationship went on, the more you worried about what you would say and how he would react.

You had been together for just over a year when you decided to tell him. You just felt bad keeping it from him any longer, so you made up your mind. Now all you had to do was figure out how. How were you supposed to tell the love of your life that you had a chronic illness you had just neglected to tell him about?

The opportunity arose sooner than you expected. It was the middle of winter, so you didn't have the summer heat to worry about. You did, however, have the shower to worry about. Since your circulation wasn't great, you always had freezing feet and hands. On days like this where you were just chilled to the bone, you wanted nothing more than to turn the water as hot as you could stand and bask in the steam.

So, you did just that. You stepped into the burning hot water, sighing as it washed over your cold limbs.

You noticed how bad you felt pretty quickly. Your head spun and you were overcome with nausea when you reached up to grab the shampoo. You quickly leaned against the wall, the cool tile soothing your skin. Soon you were shivering again, so you stepped back into the stream. After a few minutes, you started to feel worse. You turned the temperature cooler, but it didn't seem to help. Black spots started to cloud your vision like they did every time you stood up. You knew this was a bad sign.

You could feel your heart smashing against your ribcage and put a finger against your neck. Your pulse was so fast you could barely count it. It was getting harder to breathe as your heart seemed to speed up, even after you stepped out from under the water.

You stepped out of the shower, promptly laying on the floor with your legs propped up against the vanity. You pulled a towel over you before calling for Harry.

You heard his quick footsteps in the hall before he knocked.

"Y/N? Are you ok? did you forget a towel?"

"No- can you come in here?"

Harry opened the door, peeking his head inside. His brow furrowed when he saw you laying on the floor, legs up on the sink, with your fingers on your neck.

"Uh... what're we doing?"

His confusion was obvious, but he wasted no time getting down on the floor and laying next to you.

"Everything... everything alright?"

  "Can I see your watch?"

"Uh, sure," Harry said, sticking out his arm to you.

You grabbed his arm, focusing your eyes on the second hand ticking around. After a minute, you dropped his arm, sucking in a deep breath.

"Y/N,  what's... what're you doing? Are you ok?"

"I'm fine, my heart is just beating really fast and I don't feel well at all," you said, closing your eyes.

"How fast is really fast?" He asked, reaching over to feel your wrist. "Woah, you meant, like, really fast," his eyes widened as he counted her pulse.

"Y/N, your heart rate is over 200. I'm not a doctor, but you've made me watch enough Grey's Anatomy to know that's not good," He said eyeing you nervously.

  "No, it's ok, I just had the shower water too hot," You reassured him, keeping your eyes closed.

"Uh, again, not a doctor, but I don't think hot water is supposed to make your heart beat this fast."  

Oh boy. Here it was. Time for you to explain.

"Maybe not for most people, Harry, but for me, it's-" You tried to move your legs and sit up, but as soon as you did, your vision started going dark.

"Nope, back down, can't do that yet," You sighed, sinking back down.

He laid back down beside you, his fingers still on your wrist. After a few more minutes, you finally felt like you could get up.

Harry stood first, holding out his hand to help you. You got to your feet and instantly knew it was a mistake. Harry looked at your glassy eyes with concern before you went limp. He let out a surprised sound, catching you and lowering you back to the floor.

Your towel had nearly slipped off, so he readjusted it to keep you covered. Then he just sat there with your head in his lap, stroking your hair and watching the seconds tick by on his watch. After a few minutes, he started to get worried. He patted your cheek gently.

"Y/N, wake up," he spoke softly, still cushioning your head.

Your eyes snapped open and you tried to sit up. Harry held his hand on your shoulder, keeping you down.

"Woah, don't try and move yet. You scared me there," He said, smiling.

You looked up at him, then around at the bathroom. You closed your eyes, sighing again.

"I passed out, didn't I. Did I hit my head?"

"Of course not, I have excellent reflexes," Harry scoffed, pretending to be offended.

"Right, sorry," you laughed. "Sorry I scared you, that doesn't happen very often anymore."

"What do you mean, anymore?" Harry asked, confused.

"Ok, here it goes," You mumbled under your breath. "So... I have this condition, it's called POTS. That stands for postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome."

You could see the gears turning in Harry's head, trying to figure out what this meant.

"So, when you stand...?"

"My heart rate increases a lot, yeah. A lot more than it's supposed to. It's been better for a long time since I found the right medicine, but I still have bad days. The other day when I got up from the couch, remember how I almost fell? Yeah, this is why. I told you I just tripped, but I checked my pulse when I got to the kitchen and it was at 150. When it goes up that fast, it makes my vision black out and I feel like I'm about to faint."

"Does it happen every time you shower?"

"No, but it does get a lot worse with hot water. POTS causes poor circulation, and a whole bunch of other things, but anyway that's why my feet are always freezing. I like hot showers because I'm usually cold, but they make me feel terrible. I just must've had it a little too hot today, which is why... we're... sitting on the floor right now," You said, blushing and looking away from him.

"Hey," Harry said gently. "it's nothing to be embarrassed about, Y/N. I just wish you'd told me."

Y/N tried to sit up again, but Harry's hand was still pressed against her shoulder. "I swear, this time I'm ok," She smiled.

Harry eyed her suspiciously before helping her sir up against the wall.

"I know, I should have told you. I just didn't want you to think I was... weak or something," Y/N said, looking at her lap.

"Weak? Y/N, you just told me your heart tries to kill you every time you stand or take a hot shower, and that’s just your  everyday life. That's kind of... the exact opposite of weak, I'd say."

"Well, it definitely doesn't try to kill me," You laughed. "But yeah, I guess I am pretty strong for dealing with this, huh?"

"Absolutely, you are," He smiled. "Now, tell me everything about this, so I can know how to make you feel better."