#i also had an appointment today with the person who does my meds

[ghostickle]

Never in my life have I had a doctor call me the right name AND pronouns especially without me having to talk to them first I’m so happy

[void-galaxy-shenanigans]

This is the second time our temp therapist cancelled on us.

For reference, the therapist we've been seeing was an intern who just graduated. December they did grad stuff & then had to reapply & do onboarding again. That means we had to see another intern in the meantime. We'll just use initials for privacy so let's call normal therapist K and temp therapist C.

C (she/her) is amazing at helping with depression, when she shows up. She has a lot of training on how depression is actually a trauma disorder and blew our mind when she changed our perspective on why depression does what it does. It's something one of our littles brought up in less sophisticated words. That's something for another post.

K (¿they/she? we're pretty sure & gonna ask when we get the chance) is amazing at helping us process trauma, and is extremely knowledgeable about ADHD and autism. They've been amazing at helping us realize when our disabilities are disabling us. They've also been very open to learning about D.I.D. to help us with it.

C was arranged to check in every week since mid December while K is unable to. The first check in was a phone call— totally fine, & they called us out 10mins in (“you laugh when you're uncomfortable or stressed. it's laugh or cry, ¿right?”). So we arranged an in person appointment (because the house we're in isn't safe so we prefer in person) & went to that one & it went well.

But the past 2 weeks C has called out sick, and we had to call and reschedule, but they're only available Wednesday & Thursday so we keep having to reschedule for Wed.

The problem with that is, we really really need therapy. Depression is at its worst in a while, and C-PTSD is back with a vengeance, and we're having relationship communication needs that we wanna run past a therapist, and...we just really need the fuckin appointments.

To be clear, I'm not angry at C for being sick. I'm upset because our therapy office *has other therapists*. They could assign someone else so we can get the help, and instead they called at 8am like ‘C is out of the office, call her office to reschedule’.

I decided to instead ask if K is back in the office & available. They were supposed to be available by early January. The front desk said they didn't know & sent me to the scheduling department, who didn't pick up. I left message to call me back.

Worst case scenario I have an appointment today to get medication (for ADHD & depression, hopefully) so I'll be physically in the office by 11am & can ask them then if K is back. But also. What the heck. :/

I was actually more worried it was the meds appointment being cancelled, which I had to schedule 2.5 months out. Therapy can be scheduled for the next week. But with the worry of not getting meds gone I'm still frustrated at the office for not being more considerate or helpful when I asked for other options.

I didn't get therapy just because; I really badly need it & not having an appointment every week is making me lose my mind. I have so much to unpack. It's not even that my routine is disrupted anymore. I just need someone professional to talk to before I explode, which was the point I got to before they assigned C (because 2 weeks without therapy does this to us; I'm overflowing and super not okay).

This is mostly just to get the swirling thoughts out of my system. I need to put it somewhere.

~Nico (he/they)

[gwydionmisha]

Personal: This Person Just Uncleaned My Apartment

I think I need to tell you about the Cleaner, because OMG, but for that you will need context on my pain/meds situation.

So less pain does not remotely equal no pain.  My hip joints were a mess Wednesday, and only a little better Thursday.  My shoulder joints, and thus my arms, started to go bad Thursday.  The fundamental things wrong with my body aren't fixable, but the new meds are doing a stellar job on what I think of as the secondary pain, IE: everything else not joint or tendon or in their immediate vicinity.  It is far more effective than the muscle relaxants I've been using for decades at this since it's hitting the nerves and not just the muscles.  It also adds to the tired.  So much to the tired.  Bonus: on the new dose, I get dizzy if I don't rest enough, and the heart palpitations hit longer and harder when they hit.

Dramatically better means for an extreme chronic pain/chronic illness perspective, not from a remotely healthy person's perspective, if you follow.  I was into about a month of unbearable torment when we tried the one pill dosage.  I'm still not sure my system can handle the two pills, and I plan to stick to this dose.  They are supposed to last eight hours, but I get an extra four hours of partial coverage per pill, and like I said the side effects are scaling up on me.

So right now my balance sucks, I'm exhausted, and my shoulder joints scream at me if I try to do anything remotely strenuous with them, you follow?

So far I've had four different cleaners turn up, two of them twice.  Three of those are hard and thorough workers.  One of those will not wear her mask.  I put up with it because I am wearing mine and turn on all the fans and I'm scared if I don't take her, no one will come.  (see five skipped cleaning appointments in a row).

Cleaning is a hard fucking job and they are underpaid, get no benefits, no set hours, and have to pay their own travel costs including for the ferry if they are coming from the reservation and that is a lot of gas.  I respect cleaners.  I've done it, after all, amoung the many shit jobs I had over the years.  I trust them to know what they are doing.  This has been the case in three instances.  Most of the conversation with those three cleaners has been things like: Where does this go?  Where is (whatever) kept?  What should i do next?  I refuse to micro manage.  In my experience, micro managing is dramatically less efficient and just insults the person doing the job.  I know I hated it, when I was the person being micro-managed.  This works great for Goth Millennial and for the other three cleaners on the other four occasions.

I'm sure you are sensing the big but here.

So the cleaner who came today, turned up the other time she was here high as a kite.  I don't mean a little buzzed, which is fairly normal in this town and this state.  Weed's been legal here for ages.  People with shitty service jobs occasionally come to work a schootch high.  It doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things if, say, your barista's a little buzzed.  I don't partake myself for a host of reasons, but most of my friends since... I'm going to say 1985, have/do.  A little high is no big deal.

Orbiting Pluto without a suit is.  She was way out of it girl at a party who's friends have to watch her like a hawk high.  She was barely coherent high.  She drove here.  O.o.  She drove home.  This terrifies me.  after some consultation with my friends including them seeing the mess she made and me acting out vignettes, our best guess is she must have dramatically misjudged an edible.  (It had to be vape or edible.  I would have smelled smoke.  Edible makes the most sense for both the degree of Jesus fuck high and the thinking she was fine when she left home, but waaaay not fine when she got here.  Surely she would have cancelled otherwise, right?).

So basically instead of my working away at the aggregate or tumblr queue programming or whatever, it was a lot like baby sitting a toddler who would not shut up, only the toddler would make more sense and the mess would have likely been confined to things in a toddler's reach.  I had to go around after she left and actually use the forbidden to me for safety reasons ladder to save a bunch of my cups and glasses from the accident I could see happening the second Squirrel opened a dish cupboard because he had jammed them in their so precariously that the door was the only thing preventing them falling.  Goth Millennial came the next day and had to take everything out and restack it.  I could live with the fitted sheet being inside out, so we left that for today.

I did not turn her in to the asshole agency because 1. worker solidarity.  I never went to work on a substance, but I've worked so, so many shit jobs and the Asshole Agency is terrible.  2. I was pretty sure it was a mistake involving an edible. 3. I was big on giving people another chance when I was teaching.  On fuck up shouldn't lat for ever unless that fuck up was malicious or really damaging to other people.

Well, fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice shame on me.

No, she was not noticeably high this time, though I couldn't rule a mild buzz out.  She also had a shamefaced and subdued demeanor that clearly told me she knew how badly she'd fucked up last time.  She said she'd signed up for me on purpose instead of her other option because I was really nice to her and my apartment was full of interesting things to look at while she cleaned.  My apartment is full of interesting things to look at and I suspect she liked me because I was consistently kind to her when she was a mess last time and hadn’t turned her in.   She really is sweet and nice and she is clearly trying her best but not remotely the sharpest tool in the shed.  Which can be fine.  I've known a lot of good workers over the years with significant developmental or accident related challenges and they did fine.  She wasn't in that category, but I realized she'd need extra supervision compared to the others.  I underestimated how much.

She did walk right up to Tavy and start petting him right away like last time which again confused and alarmed him.  Sure, Squirrel and I and a couple of the Millennials can do that because we are his particular friends, but he barely knows her and and she would NOT stop doing that last time no matter how many times I told her he was a biter and apt to maul when he was worked up.  I was so proud of him because he did not attack her the first three times, and honestly the forth time, I would have bitten her too in his place.  

Tavy was noticeably wary of her.  He did want to watch what she was doing, but he remembered her.  (By contrast, the other cleaners he'd watch from a distance for a while, and then follow around and in a couple cases, get me to pick him up so he could get a better look.  He really took to the GNC person who came once, and kept sniffing their legs).  He did let her pet him without biting her, and she was together enough to stop when I told her he was down, and leave him alone for the rest of the two hours when I said he was in a mood to hang out and watch but not interact.

I got her through the linen change okay and last time she was so high she forgot we had a dishwasher after she'd emptied it and it took her most of her shift except the linen change, but the dishes looked and smelled clean, so I set her to that and did not remotely supervise her enough.  This I did not discover until evening, but we'll get to that.

Then I set her to sweep and mop, which... Like I've worked a lot of restaurant jobs, often with people in a supported worker with severe intellectual challenges.  I've never seen one who'd been doing it for years who couldn't do it correctly.  She said she'd been doing this for several years.

Assuming makes an ass out of me, doesn't it?

Oh gods the mess she made!  I should have known it was too hard for her when she started prepping for mopping before sweeping.  So I told her to sweep first, which she did.  I told her to dump the water in the sink, not the tub, which turned out to be very, very lucky.  (The tub is the most expensive thing I own.  A city program that remodels for elderly and disabled people paid for it.  I will never be able to afford to fix or replace it.  There are super strict cleaning directions for a reason, because the mechanism is delicate.)  I told her to use the liquid all purpose cleaner under the sink.  I should have got it out and prepped the bucket myself, but bending hurts and I was exhausted and dizzy and my arm situation was deteriorating.  I should have done it anyway, because this is So.  Much.  Worse.

She used a ton of water.  Like way, way to much water in a way that suggested she did not wring the mop and/or she was dumping puddles out of the bucket.  It was a terrifying fall risk situation because this was the end of her shift and I really really needed to get ready for bed as soon as she left and forage delivery was late so I had to go drag it in, just as I'd given up and settled into bed.  So I'm dizzy with unreliable legs, using both hands and going careful back and forth over this swamp of a floor with a weird gritty, soapy texture.  Which is... not what you want in a cleaner for elderly and disabled people.  I could fall and end up in the hospital under those conditions.  And it;'s not like I could want a couple hours for it to dry.  There was no point in washing my feet in the bathroom, so I kept using wipes on them before getting into bed.

Then I woke up to pee and realized just how bad it really was.  *head desk*  My best guess is she used Ajax, which is stored under a bookshelf in the bathroom, not under the sink.  Like a TON of Ajax.  The kitchen sink and nearby counter was caked with it and the floor was tacky and gritty and full of muddy footprints.  I couldn't leave it like that.  I cleaned the sink.  I took the other mop with the disability friendly easy to wring it out attachment which had been to complicated for her head and wet mopped it all again, frequently rinsing and wringing it out, until my arms basically gave out and I had to wash up and take a nap.

It's still incredibly dirty.  I feel like crying, because I can't feel clean unless my feet are.  I've been skating around on damp towels, but though my hip joints are a lot better this evening, I wear out fast and it hurts quite a bit if I do it too much.  I hate leaving a terrible mess like this for the millennial, but I simply can't mop any more with these arms.  I'd have been so much better off giving her something else to do, but I couldn't think of anything else simple enough for her, and I know from last time she will not leave early no matter how much I tell her she can just clock out at the end of the hour.

At this point I was debating what to do.  I had settled on calling Monday and asking them to put her on my no list without giving a reason, because I simply can't go through this again.  It's too hard on my body and it's incredibly could seriously injure me dangerous.

Then I went to feed the Empress Livia and discovered something worse.

I'm medically fragile.  Amoung so many other things, I have an immune system that is far more interested in own goals than fighting pathogens.  I can and will catch anything you expose me too.  Anything.  I also have a dicey digestive system.  Anything I use to prepare food or eat or drink needs to be really fucking clean. We prewash for grease and stuck on food then run them through the washer to make sure the soap and anything else is off.  yes, I know this is bad for the environment as it uses extra water, but it’s a serious safety issue for me.

I was very, very clear on directions because I remembered last time.  “Wash the dishes and then put the in the dishwasher.  The dishes in there are dirty, so don’t put them away.  I will run the washer after you leave.”  Did she do that?  No.  Were the dishes cleaned and dried, which would be reasonably acceptable as an alternative?  No.  They were jammed in with the clean dishes, soaking wet and covered in soap bubbles six or seven hours after she left.  We'll have to go through all the pans tomorrow.  I pulled the pans and dishes I remembered were in the sink yesterday.  I have no way of guessing with the glasses and flatware and I don't know which things Squirrel put in there.  

I am exhausted and I hurt and I've been pushed way past the limit of what my body can handle in a day and I can't trust my dishes or the glass I'm drinking out of and I can't get the dirty Ajax grit off my feet.  I'm going to go take a bath, but my feet will be dirty again the second I touch the floor.

She's another poor person.  I feel like a class traitor just putting her on my no list, but she could theoretically kill an elderly person with her mopping, and I can't decide if I should say something, because anything I do will be a terrible option.

This person literally uncleaned my apartment.  I just....

Look, I know it’s a free service, but this is so very much worse than when they don’t send anyone.

[wyrdify]

This is not at anyone here. This is at the U.S. healthcare system, particularly as it relates to neurodivergent trans people. Rant below the cut.

So, back in April, I asked my med manager for a referral to get evaluated for autism. Said med manager does not do it herself since she doesn't do diagnoses, and neither does the facility she works at, so she referred me out. I was then told that the place will be in touch with me to get me scheduled, and this may take up to 6-12 months as they have a waiting list. But, I can check on that referral at any time by calling them. Cool.

More background information: I started taking Effexor more than a month ago (probably close to two months now) since Zoloft, my old anti-depressant, wasn't really working. I noticed that, on the 75 mg dose of Effexor, I sometimes experienced brain fog, muscle weakness, and other things I associated with my seizures. Effexor worked, but I felt it was also lowering my seizure threshold. Med manager, who prescribed the Effexor, told me to contact my neurologist about it since my neurologist handles my epilepsy. Fine. No problem. That usually isn't an issue.

I couldn't reach my neurologist. I called her office at least twice and had her medical assistant call me back, who promised me my neurologist would call me back. That never happened. So, I tried another method, which was MyChart. I sent a message to my neurologist there on July 6, and I never heard back. Nothing. I don't see her until the end of November, so now I need to try and basically move up my appointment just to get a basic question about a prescription answered. I schedule my appointments with her a year in advance, so I don't know how much luck I'll have there.

So, that's one fail of the U.S. Healthcare system. Let's move on to what happened yesterday and today.

Yesterday, I meet with my med manager to go over a few things. I bring a list with me because not only has it been about a month since I last saw her, but I wanted to get the ball rolling on a couple other things. I wanted to see if an evaluation for ADHD was separate from the one I was getting for autism, and I wanted to get a referral letter for top surgery. For those who've known me for a while, you've known I've lived with gender dysphoria since 2016-17. It's been a long time. I want to get that started now and not keep waiting around.

What she ended up telling me: an ADHD eval is part of the autism one I'm going to have since it's a full neuropsych eval. Okay, that makes sense. Cool. I move on to the next subject: top surgery. She tells me to go to a place in the city to talk to them about surgery. They don't do anything with top surgery. Yes, they do gender affirming healthcare, but I was specifically asking for a referral letter. I looked into what I needed for top surgery in my state before this appointment (not directly before, but days before). I need at least one letter from a mental health provider for it. Why did my med manager refer me to somewhere that doesn't do that and will likely just tell me to go back to her?

She said that she or my therapist, who works in the same facility, could write the letter, but still. STILL. She sent me to another place first. I am a trans person who doesn't need hormone therapy. I need top surgery. My gender dysphoria is well documented in their system. I checked. It became abundantly clear to me in that moment that she doesn't have many trans patients. At all. That facility in general probably doesn't considering the last med manager I had there was transphobic. Anyway.

Today: I called this morning to check on the status of my referral for the neuropsych eval. It turns out that they couldn't accept my referral because they don't have a specialist, so they sent it back for my PCP to handle (same facility as my med manager and my therapist). My med manager didn't see this at all. I'm not even sure she was looking at my chart to be honest. If she did, maybe she would've saw this and said, "Oh, I need to refer you to somewhere else or have your PCP do it." But no, I get to be back at square fucking one again. Because I couldn't ask my med manager to get that referral for a neuropsych exam. I had to go through my PCP to do it. Make it make sense.

I am so goddamn frustrated with this system. I'm just trying to take care of my health and be somewhat proactive about it, but I fucking can't. At this point, I don't know what to do. I might leave this facility all together and start over with a new PCP, new therapist, and new med manager. But, then I run the risk of not being in therapy for months, not seeing a med manager for months to a year, and not seeing a PCP for months to a year as well. And I'm in the middle of a med change too. Not only that, but I don't want to be a difficult patient or someone who just quits doctors or places willy-nilly. This is my third med manager, fourth therapist, and fourth PCP since I moved here nearly 10 years ago.

I don't know what to do. What the hell do I do? I want to cry, scream, rage. I hate this healthcare system so much.

[onlyherefortheshowmances]

TW/CW: Suicidal ideation (without intent currently).

TL/DR:  I am trying to find a doctor anywhere in the state of Pennsylvania that accepts UPMC for You (medicaid) and is willing to at least try solve to my medical mystery. Preferably a family doctor with connections to a rheumatologist and possibly neurology and/or pain management. One that will actually listen and not give up and actually care that I'm in acute pain. I feel like my own body is trying to kill me. I have for a month or more. 

I want every single blood test you can do on a person. Every possible imaging study you can do. A sleep study. Another Holter monitor. LITERRALLY EVERYTHING because I am so tired of 'try this, try this' I want to know for sure exactly what is causing this.

At this point I just need a single doctor to either tell me I'm dying (which is what it feels like is happening) or one to tell me what's actually wrong and causing all this and how we can actually treat it while dealing with the immediate pain.

I'm tired of going to ERs every week. I'm tired of doctor's who are more afraid of the DEA than they are of their patient's dying. Because I don't want to wake up with this pain tomorrow morning. I cannot live life like this. 

This pain and the fact that no one in the medical field (other than my PT) seems to care about it at all. This pain that my current PCP respond to "I want someone to actually figure out what's wrong with me." by saying "We don't know." as if it is not literally her job to figure that out. I went through the entire appointment saying "What about the pain I'm in right now?" And all that happened was she took me off Lyrica which had side effects I couldn't deal with and prescribed Savella instead and told me to come back in a week once I titrate up to the correct dosage. What about that week? I don't have enough meds from the ER to last until next Tuesday ma'am. I was there on Saturday and they are legally only allowed to prescribe 3 days work of narcotics. He did give me 10 days worth of flexeril for which I'm grateful, but that on its own isn't enough, and my PCP won't give me anything at all. I literally told her my previous family doc only checked my TSH level not T3 or T4 (thyroid hormones). Did she order the additional tests? Has she ordered any tests at all in fact? NO. And she keeps saying insomnia when I tell her I have to take the oxy and flexeril to be able to sleep through the night. THAT'S NOT INSOMNIA. THAT IS ME BEING IN SO MUCH PAIN THAT I CAN'T SLEEP. At my appointment today I told her that almost every morning when I wake up in excruciating pain, I wish I wouldn’t’ve woken up at all; that death feels like a better option and that that thought scared me as someone with a history of suicidal ideation and attempts, and she literally did not care an ounce.

My Rheumatologist keeps trying to give me prednisone which DOES NOT WORK! And says take 2 Aleve twice a day. If Aleve worked for my pain do you think I would have been to the emergency room FOUR times since March 16th? I wouldn't have requested to see you sooner if Aleve did anything.

Not one person has cared about my sudden onset fatigue spells that keep getting more frequent to the point I'm hesitant to drive very far unless absolutely necessary because one of these times I'm gonna actually pass out. That's probably what it'll take for the medical professionals to care. Me falling asleep while driving. I think this may be POTS, because I also get random bouts of 'benign' tachycardia at the most random times.

They just keep slapping labels on things instead of just actually checking or even asking me half the time. I'm about 80% sure I have EDS, but apparently the closest person that will even test let alone diagnose someone over the age of 18 is in Philadelphia and I'd need a referral from my Rheumatologist to see that person.

[word-scribbless]

Oh Baby Chapter 10

Wooo there’s a lot happening in this bad boy! And a lot of cute dad Gibbs moments! Enjoy! Thanks to the lovely @leroyjethrogibbsgirl for the brainstorming and writing sessions!

Masterlist | oh baby master list

—————

Since Amelia’s party the Gibbs family had been doing pretty well. They were still doing family counseling sessions, and Y/N and Gibbs had been going together as well. Y/N knew since gibbs wasn’t a talker, if they went together he’d get to hear strategies that they told Y/N to try and wouldn’t feel so alone.

Gibbs had even agreed to start a low dose of medication to help with his panic and episodes. Y/N was beyond proud of her husband and couldn’t believes the process he made. Sniper was also a big help, and the fact that his little girl loved snuggling up to him, which always calmed him down.

Y/N was feeling close to normal again until Gibbs got a call from Vance that had him seething. She set Amelia and Piper up with toys in her room and went in to check on Gibbs.

“Hey baby wh-“

“He’s out”

“What? Who?Y/N asked and then froze. “That maniac that tried to take our daughter is out?”

“Escaped during transport. Agents are coming here to guard the house, but I’m staying and working the case from here. Dinozzo’s got point at NCIS. I’m not leaving you girls.”

She hugged him tight, amazed that he was not running to the navy yard to make sure he can tackle the man himself.

It had been a solid week of fear for the Gibbs family. All three of them stayed hunkered in their home with police details around the perimeter. Y/n made sure to not scare Amelia by making it like a mini vacation but Gibbs could tell it was getting to her. And y/n could tell it was wearing Jethro down. She had even began to suspect that he had stopped taking his medication.

He was on edge, more so than normal, moody and a little snappy. Y/N also noticed that when she went to put her bottle of new meds away that Gibbs’ hadn’t been touched.

Y/N had woke up that morning, expecting her husband to already be up grumbling around like usual.

She was surprised when she walks downstairs to Jethro making breakfast. She smiled and kissed his cheek, scooping Amelia from her seat.

“Hey there my cuties! How are we doing?” She asked as she goes to put coffee on.

“Good just got up” Gibbs said as he kissed both girls.

“I can tell, no coffee yet.” She laughed and Amelia said.

“Poppa love coffee!”

“He sure does!” Y/N agreed.

“Coffee and my girls, all I need” He said with a smile.

As they sat down for their breakfast they suddenly heard a loud bang and yelling at the front door. Suddenly their door was knocked down and the man that had once again put them through hell was facing him.

“Where is my grand daughter!?” He screamed.

Gibbs grabbed his gun quickly from the safe and Pushed Y/N with Amelia in her arms behind him.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Gibbs yelled and moved further between his girls and the man.

“I’m here from my grand daughter!” He lunged forward and Y/N thought quickly throwing the freshly brewed coffee at him, giving her time to get Amelia out of the room and lock them both in the bathroom, calling 911.

By the time Y/N was off the phone, she heard a gun shot and huddled Ami closer to her until Jethro knocked on the door “it’s me it’s safe.”

He whispered and Y/N leaned enough to unlock the door while huddling Amelia close. Gibbs pushed in and scooped his girls in his arms.

“He’s gone” he said and kissed her head. “We’re safe.”

“Gone gone?” She asked.

He nodded “pulled a gun on me, officers saw it. It’s already been declared self defense... it’s over.”

She nodded and snuggled into him allowing Amelia to cling to them both as he continued to sooth them both.

“We need to head to NCiS to for debrief and report officially.”

“Bad man gone? We see my Ziva?”

“Yeah baby the bad man is gone and we’ll see your Ziva and uncles probie and Tony.”

“Yayyy daddy keep us safe”

“Always” Gibbs said as he snuggled her close.

The Gibbs family showed up and NCIS a little worse for wear. Y/N was holding onto Amelia pretty tight, she clung back around her neck even tighter and had her little hand around her dad’s finger as they walked.

Gibbs was very agitated and y/N could tell. He separated and went to debrief with the director.

Y/N and Amelia say and Gibb’s desk with Ziva and the rest of the team when Gibbs came out. “I’m done with this, you should have done more they heard Gibbs scream and slam the door, his flip phone bouncing off the floor.

“Gibbs” director Vance shouted as Y/N and Tony stood up to go after Gibbs and Amelia became crying.

“Jethro!” Y/N yelled as she and and Tony caught up to him as he reached the elevator.

“I’m fine!” He grunted.

“You’re not” Tony said

“You’re shaking” y/n pointed out and held his hand. He shook her off and gruffly said “I am fine.”

“Boss you’re not. You need to get yourself together.” Tony said

“For us, for me and your daughter” she said and Gibbs looked up to where Amelia was crying in ziva’s arms.

He sniffed and nodded his head taking Y/N’s hand.

“I scared her”

“We’re all scared, we need you. It’s okay if you’re scared but we need you.”

He nodded again and y/N started to pull him toward the desks

“will you hear us out? Let us help you? Please?” Y/N asked as he scooped Amelia from Ziva.

“Peas let us help poppa! We no want you be angy! Me and momma give you huggies and we all feel better!” She squeaked as she hugged him. “Get help for mealia poppa!” She said nuzzling into him and he could feel the last of his walls breaking down.

“I’m sorry I yelled baby! I’m so sorry.” He sniffled and held onto her and Y/N’s hand.

“It’s Otay poppa! Me and momma and da team help you!”

“That’s right boss we’re here” Ziva said and Tony and McGee nodded.

“Jethro” y/n whispered. “Needing help, needing medication or a counselor isn’t weak.”

“I know” he whispered. “You’re the strongest person I know I just, I shouldn’t need all that to protect you.”

“You don’t need that to protect us but you do need help to manage the anxiety of the situation. We all do. And most of all we need you. So please do whatever it takes to make sure we have that?”

He nodded and hugged his girls to him “anything for you both.”

“We can all go together tonight, I’ll call in an emergency appointment, please?”

Gibbs nodded and looked at his team.

“We’ll wrap this up and we’ll deliver dinner to your house tonight” ducky insists.

“Thank you all” Gibbs whispered as he and his girls got on the elevator.

“Thank you for sticking by me, I’m so sorry I scared you.” Gibbs said as he guided his girls towards the car.

“Poppa no scary” Amelia said “poppa saved us and was angry at scary guy!”

“Yup poppa is our hero!” Y/n said

“Momma was pretty brave today too, I taught you well but where’d that coffee trick come from.” He smiled.

“Needed to protect our baby bear” she chuckled and ticketed Amelia’s side.

Gibbs smiled whispering “I love you momma bear”

“And we’re both very glad we have you as the poppa bear to our momma and baby bear!”

Gibbs smiled and kissed Y/N before driving home.

About 2 weeks after the incident at the Gibbs home and the impromptu intervention, things were looking up for the Gibbs family. Gibbs, Y/N and Amelia had all been attending counseling, together and separately, whatever any of them needed.

Gibbs was getting back into the swing of taking his medication and finally feeling safer and more relaxed about Amelia not being right near him. There were tough days for all involved but they always had each other to lean on.

Lately when Gibbs was working on his boat the girls would sneak away to Amelias room to work on a “secret project” or “the -ecret propject” as Amelia called it. Gibbs played along and smiled after Y/N told him she promised she’d give his first mate back to help on his boat as soon as the project was finished.

Gibbs knew Father’s Day was coming up and couldn’t deny he was pretty excited for their “propject”. So he would take Sniper down the basement with him instead of his girls to keep him company.

While Gibbs and His puppy son were having bonding time with the boat, the girls were hard at work on a few very special gifts and Amelia (and Y/N had been having a very hard time keeping a secret. The night before Father’s Day Y/N wrapped up the gifts in brown butchers paper and had Amelia color all over it. She hid it away and smiled as she thought about his face when he would open it.

The next morning Y/N woke up bright and early somehow succeeding in waking up before her perpetually early husband. He didn’t stay sleeping long, when she moved to get up he rasped “morning baby”

She huffed and turned to kiss him. “Good morning handsome, but it’s Father’s Day so please either go back to sleep or just lay here and pretend we woke you up in like 15 minutes. “Yes ma’am” he smiled as she got and went to leave the room before popping her head back in. “And happy Father’s Day, thanks for doing this whole parenting thing with me.” She added, causing his face to break into a big smile.

She left the room and snuck into Amelias room, kissed her head.

“Hey baby” she said and watched her daughter sleepily open her eyes.

“Hi momma” she whispered and the. Promptly added “poppa?”

Y/N giggled and answered “it’s poppa day so we’re gonna bring him coffee in bed!”

“Yayyy!” She cheered

Y/N and Amelia prepared Gibbs coffee and presents and headed upstairs.

That snuck into his and Y/N’s room and “woke” him up by kissing his cheeks.

“Well hello there my beautiful girls, and boy” he said and kissed them both, patting sniper, who had followed them in, on the head.

“HAPPY POPPA DAY POPPA!” Amelia squealed as Gibbs set his coffee down to scoop her up!

“We has presents!”

“You do?” Gibbs asked with a smile as Y/N set them down for Amelia to give him.

“We worked really hard on these ones huh meals? We started a few months ago.” Y/N said as Gibbs began to open the larger package leaving out that they had actually started this project when they were in protective custody, to help them not miss him so much.

As he tore the paper he saw 2 scrap books and couldn’t help but smile as he flipped through the first one that said family.

There were over a dozen decorated pages with pictures of his family. Every group he’d ever called his family in fact. Old pictures of when he was a boy, pictures with Mike franks and dwayne pride from his early days of NCIS, pictures with Shannon and Kelly, pictures of his current NCIS team with hand written notes from each of his 3 agents and plenty of pictures of him, Amelia, and Y/N. On the back page was a picture Amelia had drawn (with Y/N’s help) of all the people in her family. Gibbs teared up when he saw it included a scribbled frame in stick figure Amelia’s hand labeled “Shannon and my sister Kelly”.

“Poppa you like it?” Amelia peeped as she climbed up to wipe his tears.

“I love it baby! Thank you so much. He said as he smiled at Y/N.

“Momma you said da other one would make poppa cry!” She giggled as she went to sit in her mom’s lap so her dad could look at the second book.

“All happy tears though” y/n clarified as she kissed her head.

Gibbs picked up the second book and quickly understood why Y/N would say he’d cry. One the front cover were bright stickered letters that said “Gibbs’ girls” and smaller silver font that said “a picture book of proof that you’re the best dad ever”

The tears came as he opened the first page and saw 2 pictures, one of Amelia and himself sanding his boat, and one of Kelly and him sanding a boat. With decorations and Y/N’s hand writing that said “2 girls lucky enough to be their dad’s ‘first mate’.

Gibbs looked up and pulled both his girls into a hug. “I love it” he whispered.

“We used pictures we knew you were okay with sharing with us and they are all copied. Originals are safe in their boxes.” Y/N explained.

“What could be better than a picture book of all of my girls huh?” He smiled as he turned to her page that proudly showcased photos of all 4 of his girls.

“We were hoping you’d tell us the stories of some of them” y/N said and Gibbs nodded as he began telling a story about riding horses with Kelly.

“Poppa one more!” Amelia peeped after his story.

“Another gift?” He asked an took the small box from her.

“Yup, this one we didn’t hand make, but it’s still special” y/N explained.

Gibbs opened the box to see a silver with a small silver tag holding a link of chain together, the tags had the initials K and A etched in it, and on the back that laid against his arm it said “#1 dad to Kelly and Amelia Gibbs”

He couldn’t even talk he was so loved by the gift.

“Thank you” he said as he tucked both of them under his arm.”

“We wanted you to know how lucky all your girls were and are to have you J” Y/N said with a kiss to his cheek as Amelia added “best poppa Eva”

“I don’t know what I ever did to deserve any of you.” He said as Y/N clasped the bracelet on. “But I am so lucky.”

The Gibbs’ spent that day enjoying and celebrating being a family, as well as visited and calls from each of the team to their ‘work dad’ and Y/N put it. Gibbs couldn’t have asked for a better ‘poppa day.”

——-//

@mac99martin @kittenlittle24 @viper-official @ilovemark1951 @theofficialzivadavid @averyhotchner @andreasworlsboring101 @diesinspanishbcimhispanic

[bigskydreaming]

I kinda wanna fucking scream, so here, have a offline bullshit rant post.

So I’ve literally been trying to get my stupid fucking meds for over a MONTH now at this point, which I’m sure you can all see like, my mood is just wooooonderful these days. Not an excuse, casual reminder that yeah you do gotta take care of your own space so if my mood is dragging anyone down, I’m totes on board with blocking or unfollowing or y’know, burning me in effigy or something. Okay maybe not that last part. But still. You get it. And its not even that like, I need mood stabilizers per se, lol, so shout out to the armchair diagnosticians helpfully peppering my inbox still in their quest to oh so slickly be like ‘hey you’re a hot mess, take your hot messness away from tumblr’ like lol, didn’t ask.....nah, its mostly the perpetual lack of sleep and chronic pain issues that I have zero distraction from when my specific combo of meds isn’t able to let me actually weaponize my ADHD properly and power through that. Its a whole thing. Whatever. Just go with it.

POINT IS. So I’ve been trying to do this for over a month now, first obstacle was even just getting the money together for my refill appointment which is a whopping $150, because I have to pay out of pocket for mental health stuff these days because I had to switch my insurance over to something that paid out more heavily for physical benefits like my jaw surgery.....and because of the pandemic, and how many psychiatrists in my area and that I could actually reach aren’t taking new patients during the pandemic since most of them are conducting business virtually still, like, I have barely any resources for seeking out and trying new psychiatrist offices in the meanwhile that might charge less and I’m kinda stuck with the one I have because the last thing I can afford is to have like, NO psychiatrist at the moment, y’know?

So first I had to have that to even BOOK the appointment, which took forever because rent and food are a joy to accrue when you can barely manage to function as an actual employee of the capitalist machine ahfsklhflkahflakf, but so then I did that and like, got an appointment put on the books for August 19th. That was the soonest they could fit me in back when I paid them for my appointment about a week and a half ago. No, two weeks ago now? Eh, time is fake. ANYWAY, so that wasn’t gonna work for me, so basically the entirety of last week was devoted to constantly calling and trying to check in every other hour to see if they had any sooner cancellations I could take, because for whatever fucking reason, they just ‘don’t do’ a cancellation list wherein they call the next person on the list once they have a cancellation. Whatever.

So finally got a cancellation slot with a virtual appointment last Saturday night at random as fuck 8:40. Okay cool. Most of my refills are fairly simple, no real changes, but two are controlled substances so like, they have to do their due diligence and go through the proper protocols before giving me another prescription to one or whatever. Fine. Okay.

So I call the CVS they sent the prescription for my ADHD med to, the very next morning. One of the controlled substances, and the key med to like....making me functional instead of a rambling disjointed whirlibird of a thought emitter. Problem is, that medication is on back order. Won’t be in until Tuesday. Ugh. Okay, fine. Nothing I can do about it, because while the specific provider I spoke to in order to GET my refill prescriptions was taking an appointment the night before, the actual offices that schedule appointments and connect patients through to their providers was closed for the weekend, so I couldn’t even ask for them to send the scrip somewhere else.

SO. I go back to the CVS on Monday, hoping that maybe it came in early because not like I can do much else in the meanwhile. Course its not there, but oh well. I toy with the idea of calling to ask my provider to send the scrip to a different pharmacy (only had it sent to this one cuz its within walking distance to me, and since I can’t drive for medical reasons and Uber’s are expensive as fuck, just for errands, like, even though walking is sooooo not fun for me physically, like it is what it is). I decide against it because here’s another fun fact about this controlled substance....for security reasons, pharmacies don’t have to tell people over the phone if they have it in stock or not. Like, they won’t just say no we don’t have it in stock - I mean, they WILL say that, but that doesn’t actually mean anything because that’s what most of them say about that particular medication no matter whether or not they DO, and then just cite security protocols, so you have to actually GO to the store in question to ask them and even get a real answer to whether or not they even HAVE it in stock to FILL a prescription if its sent over. And no, the provider won’t just send scrips into several different pharmacies at once and just be whichever has it in stock can fill it - because again, controlled substance.

SO. I decide its not worth it to try getting the scrip sent over somewhere else, because I’d have to at least waste money on an Uber to even travel to various pharmacies and even check if they CAN fill it sooner than this one, when at least this place will have it in tomorrow. Its just one more day at this point.

Except then I go back on Tuesday. Oh sorry, don’t know why that other person told you we’d have our order in today, our shipments of that medication don’t come in until Wednesdays.

So I go back Wednesday. Success! They have it in stock. I go to pay, pulling out my goodRx coupon that was just printed out that morning, specifically citing the price for CVS at Target. The pharmacy manager says sorry, we don’t honor that coupon here for controlled substances like this one. I say: record scratch? He’s like yeah, that’s at the discretion of individual pharmacies, and we don’t honor that price for this specific medication, because we don’t want to attract customers only coming here to get that medication filled for that price. (This pharmacy is right at the edge of Inglewood and Culver City, for anyone who is familiar with those neighborhoods. The implications are exactly as they appear to be). So I’m like, what’s the regular generic price? He quotes me something that’s $180 more than the coupon, and thus $180 more than I have since I was focused totally on getting THIS amount ASAP, so I could get these meds so I could do more work and make more money. You see the train of thought. I’m like well that’s awesome, I don’t have anything close to that. Hey. Weird question. Why did nobody I talked to the past three days in a row that I’ve walked into this store in person to request this refill, like, mention this little tidbit about not honoring this coupon so instead of waiting for a backorder that would do me no good, I could have been spending that time having my prescription transferred somewhere that WOULD honor it?

He’s like, well did you mention to any of them that you’d be using a goodRx coupon for this particular medication? I said, yup. He said, you sure? I said well the specific process each time was I came in, I asked if this medication was in, they said what’s your name and date of birth, I provided that info, they said are you paying out of pocket, we don’t have valid insurance info for this on file for you, I said yup paying out of pocket with a goodRx coupon, they said *clickety clack of the keyboard* nope, sorry, we won’t have this medicine in until Tuesday, I mean Wednesday. 

He’s like, well you must be misremembering or they would have told you at the time that we don’t take GoodRx coupons on this medication. I’m like, dude, it was you. It was literally you that I spoke to two of those three times, right here at the counter, in person. I’m gonna go ahead and trust my memory of those interactions and what was said there over yours since you don’t actually remember having talked to me two times in the last three days. He’s like, I gotta go help another customer. There is no other customer. I leave. Fun day for everyone.

So then I call around town to at least check which CVS will actually honor the coupon I have and the price that I can afford to pay it at. I don’t bother asking if they even have the medication in stock because I know its not guaranteed to be a CORRECT answer, but at least I can see who accepts this damn coupon. Also, reason I’m only trying big brand pharmacies instead of smaller, hole in the wall ones is because again, controlled substance, and I know from experience that the bigger brand pharmacies are at least more likely to have that med in stock whereas most smaller ones tend to run out very quickly as they usually only get enough for their existing/regular customers and a little extra.

I find a CVS five miles away - not walkable, gonna have to Uber. Call my psychiatrist office again to ask them to transfer the scrip, front office says they’ll send the request to my provider, who usually checks and fulfills such requests in 24-48 hours. I’m like okay cool, can I get a phone call to let me know when that happens, so at least I know when to check back to follow up if it hasn’t happened yet for whatever reason? They’re like no, the pharmacy will send you a text or call when they get the prescription sent over and you can take it from there with them. I’m like okay, but I’ve done this a bunch of times and know from experience the pharmacy does NOT in fact always call or text, so is there a certain time to follow up to inquire if the provider has already sent the scrip and the pharmacy SHOULD have it by now or if the delay is on the provider’s end? Front office is like yeah no. I’m like, swell.

So that was yesterday. I call the pharmacy (which I still don’t even know if they have the medication IN STOCK to fill the scrip even once they GET the scrip, and won’t until I can actually Uber out there, but one thing at a time at this point) at like 9 pm, they’re a 24 hour pharmacy, and they’re like nope, we got nothing (this is after spending an hour and a half on hold to even TALK to someone at the pharmacy). Called them again today at noon, still nada. Technically I have another 29 hours before the window in which the provider is supposed to send the refill scrip to this new location, before I can be like, okay so they still haven’t done it, can we send him a nudge or another request. The 24-48 hour window will only actually EXPIRE after their offices close on Friday meaning it’ll be Monday before I can even actually REACH someone again to ask them to send the scrip again, if the pharmacy hasn’t ACTUALLY gotten it by Friday night, and pessimistically, I’m not super inclined to assume that they will at this point. 

I’m antsy, irritable, hungry because I don’t even know for SURE sure if the new pharmacy will ACTUALLY honor the coupon or say no sorry we don’t do that here either, whoever told you that was wrong, or if they’ll even actually have it in stock versus I’ll have to have it sent somewhere else AGAIN, so I have to pinch every penny possible in order to ensure I have the most money possible once my prescription IS filled in case the price is more than I expected again or in case I have to take Ubers there or further than I expected or basically....shit happens that I don’t expect. And this is what I’m basically spending all my time doing instead of working, because trying to get work done in this state is like....the harder I try to make it happen, the less it actually gets done, so I try and prioritize this and its roadblock after roadblock dragging out and wasting my time, and like yeah, I can post and shit while I’m doing this aka sitting on hold or walking around town trying to get shit filled because its fine if I ramble incoherently along the way in posts, but actual WORK work requires like....fucking coherency and succinctness and not having to stop and start every five minutes to call someone else, and oh yeah, being able to power through migraine spikes. And just.

I’m very annoyed about anything and everything to do with this shit. The hoops you have to jump through to even get the stuff that like....actualizes your hoop jumping ability, is just....*gnashing of teeth*

Anyway. So that’s my offline bullshit rant. Yay. The end.

[depressedacadamia]

Drunken Dares

Prompt + paring: Tattoo Parlour au, ‘night’ + Solangelo 

A/N:  Hellooo- i had the choice between a tattoo parlour au or a flowershop au but I'm already writing a pjo flowershop au so I thought I'd spice it up with a tattoo parlour au! I kinda wanted there to be a part two becuase I wanted a bit of bonding between the two so maybe if i remember, that may happen? Anyway- enjoy  <3 from phi phi!

Read on A03         Writersmonth 2021       Masterlist

“Do I really have to do this?” Will groaned slightly. It was late at night and here Meg was, pushing him in a tattoo parlour.

“Yep!” She hummed as she pushed him forward.He tripped over his own foot as he flung through the double doors. He was about to continue reluctantly before realising the short minion who had forced him here was no longer by his side.

He turned around and frowned. “ Meg? Why aren’t you coming in?”

“I’m underage,” She hummed.

“You know you can just stand to the side?” Will asked, a slightly desperate undettone to his statement which Meg noticed. He was begging her not to leave him in the scary dark tattoo parlour which was full of buff, scary people.

“Sorry- but I must not break the law!”

“Last week you happily started trying to drive my car!” Will yelled at the glass doors. Alas, his yells were ignored as Meg blissfully ignored him as she continued her walk home, leaving William Andrew Solace in a tattoo parlour.

What was he meant to do?Walk up to the guy at the counter and tell him that he wanted a tattoo? He should have never gotten drunk and played truth or dare- he should have known that the first thing Leo would dare him would be to taint his beautiful freckled skin. The worst part ultimately was the fact that he had to get it on his chest.

Perhaps the gods above saw Will’s freak out or perhaps Leo was simply being extra nice when he saw Will in the middle of the parlour looking so out of place it was painful but either way, the next thing Will knew, he was being taken by the wrist towards the counter by none other than Leonidas Valdez; the very bastard who had gotten him into this mess.

“I’m surprised you actually came,” Leo commented.

“Meg forced me,” Will grunted.

“So,” Leo sighed as he tapped at the cigarette in between his fingers, “ Do you know what you’re getting?”

“Uhh… no, not really., How does this work? You tell them what you want and then they stab at your body with a needle?”

Leo let out a small scoff which had smoke billowing out of his lips and nose as if he was a chimney. “ No, darling- they shave, sanitise and then they stab at your body with a needle.”

“That made me feel so much better.”

Ignoring the evident sarcasm, Leo simply smiled. “ You’re welcome, blondie.”

Wil, ruffling at his hair, mumbled, “Shut up.”

Leo, who was significantly enjoying teasing Will, was cut off by Piper- one of the last people Will expected to see at the tattoo parlor. But on a second look, the tattoos on her abdomen spiraling up to her breasts and arms made Will wonder why he never noticed them.

“Oh Will- you’re actually here?” Piper's surprised voice rang out.

“Unfortunately.”

“Well the artist is ready for you,” Piper ushered him towards the dark room, only illuminated by the UV lights.

Will visibly gulped. Leo and Piper couldn’t help but interlock eyes and snort a little- after all, it was simply adorable at how nervous this newbire was.

Will took small steps and the second he passed the door, it slammed shut.

What the fuck- do the doors here have a mind of their own?

“Come in- take a seat,” A voice commanded. Will, who didn’t really have any choice but to listen to what he was being told, fumbled around, trying to figure out where he was meant to be going. It seemed that Will, in his internal chaos, did not notice the tattoo artist's leg propped up to the side and therefore, when Will finally did notice the leg- it had been the hard way.

He tripped and the next thing he knew, his wrist had made a new best friend. Bruised and swollen, Will’s wrist heavily ached- forcing him to let out a small groan of pain.

“Fuck, are you okay?” the voice rang out. Will heard a relative amount of fumbling and heavy footsteps and suddenly the room was flooded with light.

The face that he was met with was not one he was expecting. The boy had mid length hair- while it wasn’t really long, it was flowing over the nape of his neck slightly and it looked like it really got in the way of his eyes. He watched as the boy seperated the pieces of hair covering his eyes, creating an effortless look.

His face radiated an emotion that Will couldn’t describe- sadness? Or was it simply the face of someone who was content with little?

“Are you okay?” The man asked. Will watched- he had never seen such dynamic expressions and the way this man's face morphed into an expression of concern had him wrapt with all.

Will could only nod stupidly, his hand still clutching at his bruised wrist.

“Dya mind if I have a look at that anyway?” The artist insisted as he grabbed a med kit and sat on his spinning chair before wheeling himself towards Will who now sat on the chair that he was originally appointed.

He gently cradled Will’s wrist between his fingers, turning it round and round. His face contorted between emotion of worry and concern.

“It’s okay,” Will re-assured . “ It’s not sprained or broken, just a bit of bruising and swelling. Should be gone by tomorrow morning.”

“You sure?”

“I’m a doctor.”

“Ah,” He smiled slightly. “ I shouldn’t question you, Dr..?”

“Solace- but Will is fine. How about you?”

“Nico- Now let's have a look at what you want huh?” He closed the notebook he had been creating designs in before Will walked in and pulled out a collection of the most popular designs so far.

“These are the trending ones currently but I can always pull out something else if you want. Or if you have your own design that you wanted, I can try with it,” Nico offered. He pulled out a cigarette and flicked his lighter.- once, twice and a third time before grunting and pulling out a different one. Will watched, hypnotized, as Nico lit the cigarette.

Nico looked up and caught Will staring and shyly asked. “ You don’t mind do you?”

“No… but you should try and refrain from smoking. It’s really, really bad for you and I say this as a doctor.”

“You’re the 4th person today who has said that.”

“I’m alarmed that you managed to smoke that many times today,” Will said with concern.

Ignoring what Will had said, Nico continued. “Anyway, have you chosen anything yet?”

Will let out a heavy breath. “ Ah, no. My friends kinda forced me here but nothing here really matches… me.”

“What about this flower? Or the skull? “

Will shrugged. “ I don't think I’d want those on my skin permanently”

Nico nodded and continued smoking, while Will flipped through the latest designs. Nothing seemed to catch his eye as much as something he could have sworn he saw earlier. It was a stylised sun tatoo- nothing necessarily special but it reminded him of his mum- and his home.

“Excuse me,” Wil started, causing Nico to put his cigarette down in the ashtray, “ I was just wondering if the designs in that were available?”

Will pointed to the notebook That Nico had closed earlier. He watched as Nico hesitated. His face seemed to be stuck between wanting to let Will sneak a peek but it also seemed to want to tell him to stop.

However, his hand simply made up his mind and shoved the book across the table in Will’s direction.

Daintily, with the utmost care, Will opened the first page and his eyes almost watered at the immense detail and beauty poured into these designs. It looked like the heart and soul of the artist had been etched into every little petal, every small ray and eventually after gaping at each page he found the design he had spotted earlier.

The sun wasn’t special but it held Will’s eyes so much that Nico told him, “ Close your mouth. You’re practically drooling.”

“This one,” Will pointed to the stylised sun, “ I want this one.”

Nico scanned his eyes over it before humming and nodding. He put out his cigarette and got up.

“Where d'ya want it?”

“Chest- left side,” Will blurted out. He didn’t know why he wanted it there- perhaps because he wanted the thing that reminded him of his mother to be as close to his heart as possible.

Nico nodded as he prepared everything. Then he turned to Will. “ You realise you’ll need to take off your shirt?”

Will blushed and looked away as he started unbuttoning the top of his shirt. Meg had dragged him out of the hospital as soon as his shift had ended and thrown him into the tattoo parlour and therefore he was still wearing a crisp white shirt.

“Do I need to take off the whole thing?”

Nico took a quick look at Will. The sight that met his eyes was surprising- he used to seeing the chest of his clients but for some reason the sight of a very attractive and intelligent young man before him was very different. He seemed to be looking away as a blush graced his cheeks and ears. His shirt was unbuttoned just enough for Nico to see Will’s muscled chest.

How did a doctor have enough time to work out like that?

“Uh... just a bit more, I don’t want the needle to catch on the side of your shirt.” Nico reiterated, even though he was lying.

“Okay, so now, I'm just going to clean the area and then I’ll trace the sketch before tattooing it on. Do you want red or black?”

“Uh- you can choose,” Will sighed, desperate to get it done and over with.

Nico nodded. He slipped on some gloves and wiped at Will’s chest with an antiseptic. Will flinched at the cold wipe and the soft touch of the artist before him .

“Sorry,” Will murmured, “ It’s cold.”

Nico simply nodded as he began sketching the outline of the tattoo. Will tipped his head back, unable to meet the eyes of Nico ro even look at what was happening. He could feel the tickly touch of the pen on his skin and the soft brush of Nico’s glove on his skin every once in a while.

“All done. Now for the painful part. You may feel like you’re getting stung by a bee a lot,” Nico warned. “Try not move a lot, it will make it harder for me.”

Will, who couldn’t formulate words at this point, simply nodded. “I’d let you squeeze my hand, but unfortunately- I need both,” Nico smiled as reassurance.

He heard the buzzing of the gun and braced himself. The needle poked and prodded as he expected and at times he did wish he had stolen some morphine from the hospital beforehand but all in all, he managed to get the tattoo without bursting into tears and without ruining hids tattoo.

“All done,'' Nico said as he covered the tattoo.

“When do I get to see it?” Will asked, curiously, happier that it was over.

“In a few days- it just needs to sink in.”

Wil sat there, unsure of what to do next. He had paid and was now just sitting in an empty room with his tattoo artist. Was he meant to just say goodbye? Wasn't that kind of harsh?

But Will realised, had this been anybody else or any other appointment- he wouldn't want to be staying for any extra time. Did he want to be friends with this guy? Maybe it was that- yes, it would be that. As someone who was socially awkward, Will knew that he liked hanging out with people; he simply wasn't very good at it

Just as he was going to ask for his number, Nico passed him a slip of paper. “ Here’s my number. Call me when you’re free.”

With that and a wink, Will was left in the empty tattoo room.

[peggyrose19]

Club Knocked Up

Um. Hello there. It’s been a minute *three months* hush you. But uh, here’s the next chapter of my Waitress AU. If you, like me, have forgotten everything that has already happened, you can find the first two chapters here. I make no promises on regular updates because, as we’ve discovered, I’m shit at those. So, as always, thank you so much for reading, and thank you for your endless patience. Characters belong to @lumosinlove. 

cw: food, pregnancy

Leo waited impatiently at the doctor’s office, a wrapped pie cradled in his lap. It had become a tradition, making a new special pie for his doctor anytime he saw her. This time was no different, despite the very different circumstances. 

He’d made the appointment a week ago. Something in him had known since then what was happening, but he had avoided thinking about it for as long as possible. He’d made the appointment on a whim, lying sick in the bathroom, fighting down another round of nausea, knowing it couldn’t possibly be normal. And so he’d called and booked an appointment with Dr. Perkins, his doctor since he was a baby. 

He didn’t want to be there. Leg bouncing up and down, he stared out the window at the sky, turning pink and orange as the sun set. He sighed. The doctor’s office was better than being at home, he supposed. 

“Leo Knut?” a nurse called, jolting him from his thoughts, and he stood quickly, following her back. Suzie, her name tag read. 

“How are you doing, honey?” she asked absentmindedly, checking something on the clipboard in her hands.

“Fine, thanks,” Leo replied politely. 

“Can you just take those shoes off for me?” she asked as they reached the alcove. Leo did as instructed and went to stand on the scale. He fought the urge to fidget as the nurse read the number and noted the number down in his chart.  

Next, he was ushered into a nearby chair and Suzie secured a blood pressure cuff around his upper arm. She read it quickly and lessened the pressure, slipping the cuff back into the basket it was in. 

“Follow me.” She led him to a nearby room and sat at the computer, typing a few things on the screen. Leo hoisted himself onto the table. As she continued typing, Leo surveyed the walls. Each room, he’d discovered, had different patterns painted on the walls. This one had a checkered pattern, in shades of green and blue. It was a little dizzying. 

“Okay honey, and what brings you in today?” Suzie asked, glancing up at him. 

“Um, well, I took a pregnancy test and it came back positive. I’d been feeling sick for a few days so uh, my friends made me. So, yeah. Now I’m here.” 

“Oh, well that’s exciting, congratulations!” Suzie said as her fingers clacked on the keys. 

“Thanks.” Leo ducked his head. 

“Alright, the doctor is gonna want to do another test, just to make sure.” Leo nodded absent-mindedly. “And if that also comes back positive, he’ll get you started on some prenatal meds and fill you in on everything you need to know, m’kay?” 

“Okay.” 

“Okay, the doctor will be with you in just a few, so sit tight.” 

Leo offered her a tight smile before she left, the door closing softly behind her. He sighed once it shut, slouching back onto the table. He did not want to be here. 

His mind wandered to the waiting room, with all the expecting mothers looking joyful and excited. He’d felt taunted sitting there earlier, by their smiles and their glow. They were all so happy, those women. They wanted their babies, probably had loving husbands at home, who would be there to support them and take care of them. They were probably loving and kind. 

A knock startled him from his thoughts. 

“Hi, Leo?” A young man said, opening the door. He had a white coat on, and held his hand under the sanitizer before taking a seat at the computer. 

“Hello,” Leo said nervously. He didn’t know this man. 

“Hi, I’m Dr. Lupin. It’s good to meet you.”

“Where’s Dr. Perkins?” 

“Oh, they didn’t tell you?” The doctor looked confused.

“No… tell me what?”

“Dr. Perkins retired. Yeah, just a few weeks ago. I’ve taken over her patients. I’m so sorry, I thought they got in touch with everyone.”

“Oh. It’s okay.” Leo studied the man in front of him, Dr. Lupin. He had sandy brown hair, stray curls falling in his eyes. He looked tall, fit. A thin scar ran from his left eyebrow to the line of his jaw. Leo didn’t want to know how he got that. 

“Alright, well, what seems to be the issue, what’s brought you in today?”

“I’m pregnant,” Leo blurted out, hastily looking away from the scar. 

“Oh?” He looked confused.

“Yeah, I’m uh, I’m trans. I don’t know if that’s marked in my chart, but… I am. Um, so. Yeah, I’m pregnant, according to the test I took this morning.”

“Oh, well congratulations!” Leo must’ve made a face because Dr. Lupin’s smile faded. “Not congratulations?” he corrected slowly. 

Leo sighed. “I don’t want this baby. It wasn’t planned. I- I don’t even know if I can support a child. But I’m keeping it. I’m keeping it and raising it to be a good person.” 

He’d decided on the busride over. He didn’t know if he could even raise a child, didn’t know how he was going to do it. But he also knew he couldn’t abort the baby. 

As a child he’d dreamed of being a parent. Even when he knew he would never be a girl, never be a mother, he knew he wanted to raise a child. He wanted to do for someone what his own mother had done for him. But somehow, somewhere along the way, he’d lost sight of that dream. Earl had ruined it maybe, or maybe life had done that. But it didn’t matter, because he was going to do it, and prove to the world it couldn’t beat him that easily. 

“Okay. Okay. Let’s get started, then.”

Dr. Lupin said a lot of things that Leo didn’t quite follow, about things to avoid and supplements to take. Leo didn’t really plan on taking any of them, didn’t have the money to afford them all. He also kept getting distracted by those slender hands brushing back stray curls. There was something oddly enticing about it. 

“Does that all make sense?” he said finally, and Leo snapped out of his daze. 

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Well, it’s all on your record, which you should have access to. And if you ever have any questions, feel free to call.” 

“Okay. Thank you.” 

Dr. Lupin nodded, and smiled.

“Wait!” Leo called out as he made to leave. “I um, I made this for you. Well, for Dr. Perkins. I always brought her a new pie when I came in for a visit. So uh, I guess it’s yours now.” Leo held out the wrapped pie, trying to hide his nerves. Carefully, Dr. Lupin took it. 

“Well that’s awfully kind of you. What flavor is it?”

“I call it Mermaid Marshmallow.”

“Well, thank you very much. I’m sure it’s delicious.” 

It was only once Dr. Lupin’s back had turned did Leo allow himself to smile.

[purselover2]

Title: Heart Watch

Chapter One

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Heart condition, medical condition, pregnancy issues, angst

Let me know if you want tagged.

A/N: This fic goes along with my others where the reader has a heart condition. They are:

Part One: Heart Revelation

https://purselover2.tumblr.com/post/640745865074638848/thank-you-everyone-for-the-love

Part Two: Heart Meds 101

https://purselover2.tumblr.com/post/640444840661991424/title-heart-meds-101-pairing-bucky-barnes-x

Heart Watch

“So y/n, how have you been feeling? Any issues with your heart or any episodes?” Doctor Cho asked.

“Feeling good. No issues at all. Actually feeling pretty good.” You reply. You knew these checkups were necessary but you always dreaded them. Worried that they might find something else or that a test would come back abnormal.

“Sweet, that’s good to hear. Well the blood work came back good and your heart sounds strong. This is one of the best exams you’ve had. Any idea what’s different this time around?” She joked knowing exactly what the difference was.

“Don’t know doc, might have something to do a certain super soldier who won’t stop reminding me every day, twice a day to take my meds.” You said. Ever since you’d told Bucky about your heart condition, he’d taken it upon himself to learn everything he could about the conditions. He’d already learned all about your medications and researched the signs to look for in case you had another episode. He reminded you of your meds every 12 hours either in person or via text. If wasn’t able to text, he’d have Friday contact you. It was sweet, you knew it was, but sometimes you felt smothered.

“Sounds romantic. He cares.” She replies.

“He just better be glad he’s cute.” You get up and start getting dressed. “So doc, I wanted to ask you something. What do you think about me having a baby?” You couldn’t look at her. You knew the answer but asked anyway.

“I think you better be joking. Y/n, you know that’s not a good idea. You know that birthing a baby would be extremely hard on your heart and potential fatal. I want you to put that notion out of your mind. There are other options to be a mother.” She explained.

“I know. I just wanted to check and see if anything had changed. You know modern medicine and advances and all.” You said trying to hide the disappointment.

“Hey, its okay. When the time comes that you want a baby we’ll figure it out.” She patted you on the shoulder. “I’ll leave you to get dressed and I’ll see you at the party tonight?”

“I’ll be there. Thanks.” You tried your best to smile and not show the pain in your heart. Not a physical pain, but the pain of knowing you’d never have a baby of your own. You and Bucky hadn’t talked about kids but you knew he loved him and figured that at some point the topic would come up.

Later that night you were getting ready for Morgan’s birthday party. You had been looking forward to it all week. Morgan was adorable and she adored you. You both loved Barbies and fashion and you had at last one pretend fashion show a month when you watched her so Tony and Pepper could go out.

“Hey baby.” Bucky called from the living room. He had just gotten back from a mission.

“In the bedroom!” You answered.

“Oh my god baby are you a sight for sore eyes.” He entered the room and came over and kissed you. “I’d give you a proper hello and hug but I need a shower in a bad way. Give me a few and I’ll be ready and we’ll go to the party together okay?”

“Sounds good. I’ll finish getting ready and make sure all her presents are ready.” You said as you grabbed your most confortable heels. Morgan was expecting everyone to come dressed like they were in a fashion show, so you weren’t going to disappoint. You heard the shower turn on and decided you’d help Bucky out and lay out his clothes for the party. Once that was done, you made your way into the living room and gathered up all the presents and put them into a stack so that Bucky could carry them.

Bucky entered the room and you smiled. “Well hello there handsome.”

“Well hello there gorgeous.” He made his way over to you. “How about giving me a proper hello now?”

Making your way into his arms, you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him.

“How did your appointment go today?” He asked holding you tight.

“Good. My labs were all good, my heart sounded really good. She actually said that this was the best visit I’d had, maybe in forever.” You answered.

“Baby! Thats wonderful.” He pulled your face up for another kiss. “That makes me so happy. I was worried, but this is great.”

“Yeah, no getting the big head but she thinks maybe that I’m taking my meds on a regular basis, could have something to do with it.” You smile.

“Oh yeah?” Bucky couldn’t keep the smile off his face. “Speaking of which, I have a present for you.”

“I love presents!” You exclaimed.

“I know my girl does. I had Tony and Bruce help me make something special just for you.” Reaching into his backpack on the couch he pulled out a square box and handed it to you.

Taking the box, you sit down on the couch and open the lid. Inside is a watch. Not just any watch, this watch looked dressy, but also like it had AI behind it.

“Its beautiful.” You looked up at Bucky and he sits down next to you.

“It monitors your heart rate and transmits the data back to the app on your phone. It will also take an EKG and do all your other vitals. And it might also remind you to take your medicine.” He laughed at the last part.

You were touched you really were, he cared so much for you. You pulled him over to you and kissed him. “I love it. Thank you for always making sure I’m okay and taken care of.” You knew that an Apple Watch would have done the same thing, but you figured this was an Apple Watch on steroids.

“You’re welcome baby. Gotta make sure my best girl stays healthy.” He took the watch and placed it on your arm. “There. Oh here’s the other one.” He hands you a second box.

“Another watch?” You asked wondering why there were two.

“Yeah.”

“Why do I need two?” You opened the box to find the same exact watch just with a different band.

“Well you’ll have to have one to wear while the other is charging.” Bucky explained.

“Baby, it won’t take the long for it to charge. A few minutes without the watch won’t hurt anything.” You explained.

“I know, but with two we won’t have to worry about what if something happens in those few minutes.”

“You mean, you won’t have to worry.” You laughed.

Bucky started to pout and you felt bad about teasing him. “I’m sorry baby. It’s so thoughtful of you. Thank you. I promise to always have one of them on.” You kissed him.

“Thank you baby. Now let’s go spoil Miss Morgan with all these presents.” He stood and picked up the packages and you opened the door.

You both made your way down the hallway not knowing that tonight would be the start of the hardest and most difficult time of your relationship.

[ittakesrain]

A weekly recap of sorts…? I have to gather my thoughts before therapy on Monday so let’s go ✌🏻

I saw a TikTok about the executive functions and it was cool to learn about other adhd things, so I did some internet-scrolling and found a few cool things to think about. My cousins been having lots of trouble sleeping, so I was also inclined to look into the neurochemicals involved in sleep. I love learning about that stuff. I love learning period, but school totally tucked that up for me. Speaking of which, a sentence I said this week, possibly twice: normal things in my life have weirdly traumatized me; school was traumatic for me not because I was bullied or whatever but because the hustle culture and overachieving bullshit, enmeshed with my weird personality and the general way that I just am, pushed me over the edge. And now I get a yucky feeling just thinking about going to school. Similarly, working in customer service and getting belittled and abused by a literal onslaught of assholes on the daily? Traumatizing. I’m not sure if it’s okay to use that word, I don’t want to take anything away from those who actually have ptsd or pretend like I comprehend that experience. But it’s been something on I’ve thought lately. I’ve been trying to pay attention to my energy levels, or moods, or both (?) or whatever. I’m trying to find patterns. Life is patterns for everyone, I assume (I’m thinking how math surrounds us, and it can be really beautiful if someone’s there to explain it lol. & I’m thinking sacred geometry if you believe in that sort of stuff). But it’s important for me to notice and keep track of my patterns. It helps me. So why wouldn’t I take a tiny bit longer to track the stuff? Haven’t come to any conclusions yet, still don’t know why I lose steam midway through the day. I’m assuming it’s that my adderall wears off. I took it three hours later today and I’m still going strong, soooo. // I’ve been doing Wordle every day and I like what it does for my brain. I’ve also been playing a game on my phone which is actually just math drills. Again, it makes my brain feel good…? Or helps me feel good about myself? Accomplished? Idk haha. I had bad luck with doctors appointments again, which is super fricken annoying as always. I just want to see my rheumatologist, get more meds, and talk about a weird skin thing that could be related to my arthritis. I’m so bad with calling offices because whoever answers the phone on the other end of the line is always angry and doesn’t wanna talk to me haha and I obv don’t blame them but like it makes me stressed. Lol.

[gwydionmisha]

Personal: New GenZ Friend Arrived Safe

I had to stay up for a Thursday morning appointment to meet my new Doctor.  He seems nice and we vibe okay so far.  We just focused on blood work today.  I'm going to go back once a month for the next three months to focus on one area each since my case file is basically the collected works of Thomas Aquinas in size and even with my beloved previous GP's help, no one can get up to speed all at once.  It turned out we'd missed a test a couple of weeks ago and I needed an extra vial taken today.  All of this took the whole morning for obvious reasons.

Which would have been fine except a very nice addition to the friemnd group was arriving today and the ride to go pick them up fell through.  Techie Millenial called me and rightly so, so we went to pick them up.  This is the person who visted around last Diwali and fitted in right away.  Seriously, they are a delight and weren't safe in their state any more.  Trans Overground railroad got them out and they have an apartment with a roomate I am told is cool lined up and are staying with Tecie and Art millenial for a week until they can move into new the new digs.

The problem is the pain situation has been escalating to the point where Extreme pain wakes me and then i have to figure out how to roll over with only 2/3rds of my body working and the "I just got run over by a bus" level pain involved in shifting positions, which does not make for restful sleep.  This is the kind of pain able bodied people would be in the hospital for, but here I am at home trying to shuffle around and somehow feed myself and beasts.  (hospital would be no good.  I don't want a drug seeking note in my file and the kind of medication this would require would make me trip balls.  It's a big risk, because people in my family with this reaction to opiods also respond this way to anti-psychotics.  I've never tried them, but you get someone with extreme paranoia, another side effect of the opiod reaction, who is having an obvious psychotic break, they are apt to give them anti-psychotics, which is a viscious circle.  It was lucky they summoned me to the east Coast my Mother's second to last time in the ICU or they would have shipped her to a psch ward instead of tapering her meds, at which point she was fine except for the whole lungs failing thing.  New doctor wouldn't know to stop them and they might not listen to Techie Millenial who is Officially in Charge if I can't speak for myself.  Note to self: Next month explain my weird inherited response to opiods to New Doctor).  Before you start suggesting things, trust me, I've tried all the mitigation I can reasonably do.  What I really need is accupuncture which I can't afford.  Instead i just have to endure thisand keep chipping away until i'm back to my usual pain scale 6-7 which is a functional level of pain.  This in not.

Bonus points?  My right front break started to grind while I was taking Techie and new GenZ back to their place.  I have no money except the gas money they slipped me and an emergancy tener for meds.  (I have my food OTC left and no EBT even.)  I've scheduled with honest Mechanic for May 1st.  I can already see next month's bill money draining away, but that is a next month problem.  Sigh.

Today would have been a great day to order delivery food.  Instead I stood weeping in the kitchen because there was an electrical issue and the air fryer wouldn't work.  (Squirrel solved it).

I am so glad we got GenZ out of that hell state though. They never knew how tense and constantly braced for attack they were until they came here.  I know that feeling.  My whole body used to relax whenever I crossed the Rockies and the PNW has felt like home since I first stepped off the train all those decade ago.

[rum-and-shattered-dreams]

A rant of personal experiences and trying to do something positive with them:

Okay so procrastination is a huge thing in ADHD. Same with memory issues. (Not that these are always present and maybe some people experience both without being ADHD).

So. Here’s an experience I’m just now (at almost 40) realizing was a thing:

Imagine a huge essay/report/project requiring a lot of research and several sources was due in a few weeks. The advice was always to break it down, take notes, and make an outline. It made perfect sense. And maybe it does help some or even most people.

But for some, like me, it was still impossibly overwhelming and breaking it down was worse. The project was often boring (especially if I had to ignore a hyperfixation to work on it) and even if it wasn’t, it still felt like A LOT when my brain was full of TV static and my memory was shit.

It takes a ton of repetition for me to even temporarily remember something and even then, it will likely be gone again in a few days. UNLESS I learn by actually doing something or figuring it out for myself. And my brain gaslights itself like “do I remember that right? No that can’t be right. Let me look it up for the 100th time to make sure.” And I’m WAY more likely to remember concepts or physical processes but completely forget the terms for them or names of things or important dates EVEN FOR MY HYPERFIXATIONS, damnit... Like, I can do a bunch of crafty stuff and even remember some common terms and items but not the less common fabrics or stitch types or tool names. (Yet somehow I could remember the exact location of hundreds of thousands of items of inventory at my craft store job... even if I didn’t know what they were called. But I stocked them and had physical contact with them so I could picture where they were.) The number one overwhelming thing for me about trying to be a pro at anything is trying to remember terms so it sounds like I know what I’m talking about.

Anyway...

Without acknowledging that, I ended up wasting time by trying to schedule research/work in small chunks because every time I stopped then tried to start again, I wouldn’t remember what I did or looked at last time. (Can I also add that this is why being interrupted is infuriating for me? It probably seems irrational to other people but it’s so hard to get focused on something and now my train of thought is derailed, passengers are dead and injured, and it’s going to take who knows how long to revive the survivors?) And maybe that wasn’t so bad the first time because I’d only have to reread one page of notes. But then it would happen a few more times and my focus would be blurred and I’d repeated myself multiple times in the notes and they’d become a mess and look horrible which was distracting and I’d feel overwhelmed by having to reread and now rewrite several pages and focus would be even worse because I did remember some bits and blanked out while looking at those then stay blanked out then I’d have to reread again to catch the parts I didn’t remember.

But.

If I waited until the last minute, when the consequence/reward system overrode how overwhelming or boring the project was, I could burn through it because I was in constant contact with the material and it was all currently on my mind and I could skip writing notes and an outline and go straight to a fairly decent flow-state draft then keep going through revisions and editing all without forgetting WTF I’d researched. And it would be done in so so so much less time with a lot less effort and frustration.

And...

AND

And then there’s the schedule thing and why it DOES NOT WORK for me. If I schedule doing something (or even if someone suddenly wants me to do something right now) and my brain is like, “nah sorry, just static right now,” there’s absolutely nothing I can do to make it work and I’m just going to get frustrated and tired and depressed and discouraged. But if I keep a loose list of things that need to get done and indicate which are priorities, I can look at it and say “yeah. This one seems doable right now.” No I’m not going to get up and vacuum that spot of cat litter at this exact moment but it’s a good idea to do it soon so I’ll add vacuum to the list and probably get it done later the same day. If the cat throws up, that is an immediate priority so I will get up and make sure they’re okay and clean it because my brain does actually recognize things like that as super important. If a bill arrives in the mail, I’ll stop and pay it right away because I know I don’t have to think/worry about it again if I do. But what sucks about that is that society wants and often understandably needs people to work on a schedule. And I just... can’t.

But I’m trying to take this knowledge and apply it, trying to accept that this is how I function. I function based on a system of priorities that get done in order of “absolutely must be done right this second, whether for my own reasons or outside reasons, even if I need to drop other things” to “this is what I CAN do right now.” Not something pre-scheduled. If I need to leave something to the last minute then I’m just going to accept that that’s how it’s going to be and that’s okay. Then I can free up energy and space to do other things in the meantime rather than worry and be anxious and beat myself up because I should be doing the thing and end up hating things I like doing because they’re not what I should be doing and now there’s a negative association with them. No. Screw that. If all I can do today is play a video game then fine. Gonna enjoy it. Because I now know for a fact, from years of experience, that I will do the important things. They just need to wait until I’m capable of doing them. And... if I let myself stop worrying about old WIPs... They get done eventually too. It might take a few years but as long as I don’t actually decide not to do them, they will get done.

All that said... I still want to look into meds because it would be nice to have more of an ability to focus more regularly. I just need to clear up some other medical stuff first and I’ve got appointments already set up for that.

One more thing... I f$&#ing hate the attitude teachers have about doodling in class. It was literally the only way I could focus during lectures and remember anything they were talking about. I could look at what I drew and remember what was being said while I drew it. F$&% every teacher who took away my notebooks or yelled at me for it. Without it, I’d zone out completely. And THANK YOU to the art history teacher and biology teachers I had who not only understood but encouraged it and actually helped me direct it toward the subject matter by suggesting drawing thumbnails of the art or cell structure or anatomy.

[katblu42]

I have tossed up whether or not to post this, but I've decided to just go ahead and see how it lands. It is very personal to me, and I'm posting it because today is 2 years since I had to say goodbye.

This is basically a rambling vent that came out after the most traumatic period of my life so far. I needed to write it all down, chronicle it and get it out of my head, and the original destination for it was (my other) fandom.

It is more detailed than the story I posted earlier in the week, but it requires all the same warnings for some pretty unpleasant stuff. Please take heed before continuing.

Warnings for Death Illness Hospital Cancer (Medical) Drugs Medical Procedures CPR

Deep breath Late in 2018 my husband, S, began complaining of a sore throat. He's the kind of male who won't go to the doctor unless he is literally dying. He finally went to his GP in January and was told there was an issue that needed more investigating. He was supposed to go back to the GP in 2 weeks, but we were on holidays then, so he ended up not going back until mid March. GP sent him to a specialist, but the earliest appointment was early April. Consultation, camera down the throat and $400 later the specialist says Cancer - two of them, one in the mouth, one in the throat. Next appointment is the biopsy. By now S has lost almost 20kg because he struggles to eat (and because apparently Cancer can do that to a person anyway). Now there are appointments at the local hospital with the Radiation Therapy Dr, the specialist in Chemotherapy and a dental team (who wanted to take all his back teeth out at first, but changed their minds when they saw where the mouth cancer was, and how hard it was for S to open his mouth wide). During all this I'm still juggling work commitments as we are building up to one of our busiest periods, which covers pretty much the entire month of May. I'm sharing appointment chauffeuring duties with his Dad. It is decided that due to S's weight loss and difficulty eating it is advisable to put a feeding tube (that they call a peg) in his stomach. This is basically a precaution in case he can no longer swallow anything at some point during early treatment. Surgery after Chemotherapy begins will be difficult to recover from. As it turns out the peg is never actually used for feeding S. The first cycle of Chemotherapy begins on Wednesday 8th May. The plan was to do at least 2, probably 3 cycles of Chemo and then begin combination Radiotherapy/Chemo. At first things seem to be going okay. Three medications are administered as part of the Chemo - 2 are done on the Wednesday at the Cancer Clinic, and the third he has to carry around with him for 5 days, returning on Sunday to have the rig removed once that one is done. The peg starts leaking during these 5 days. He is given advice over the phone not to worry about the leak - but I wonder about that advice. I can't be with S all day - work is busy, and he's a grown up who can ask for help if he needs it. Only he's the kind of male who will not make a fuss if he's feeling "not okay". By Tuesday (14th May) S is not feeling much like "eating" - which consists of swallowing soft stuff like milkshakes, jelly (jello), custard and the like - and I basically have to force him to go for a walk around the block with me, just to keep him from lying on the couch all day. (Tuesday is my regular day off). He seems okay, in the "so-so" sense rather than the "fine" sense. He's not particularly nauseous, just a bit Blah. Wednesday - while I'm at work - S stays home all day, which is unusual for him. He is a social butterfly who can't resist going across the road to the Bowling Club just to sit with his mates for a bit. The peg is still leaking, and he feels tired and a bit yuck. By now I have asked him a few times if I should be calling the hospital for advice and he says no - doesn't want to make a fuss. I don't stress too much because he has an appointment at the hospital on Thursday - it's with a Social Worker, but I know that he will be at the hospital, where they will ask him how he's feeling, and if they think he needs something they will take care of him. Thursday comes and he doesn't want to get out of bed. I go to work, telling him to make sure he gets to his appointment, even if he doesn't feel like going. His Dad calls me at lunch time and tells me S didn't go to the appointment. He got in the car, they got down the road, then S told his Dad to just take him home. His Dad tells me S doesn't look good, he thinks S should be in hospital and I wonder why he didn't take S straight there if he was that worried. I get home just after 5pm and S is in bed feeling miserable. I don't get much of a good look at him - the room is dark - but he talks

to me. He's not feeling nauseous, not throwing up, but also not eating or moving much. Over the next few hours he's up and down to the toilet at least once an hour. I ask if he has diarrhoea, because if he does I should take him to hospital. He says no, "not much is coming out". It's after 10pm, Thursday 16th May, when he calls out to me from the bathroom. Something about the way he calls out makes me get straight up to see what's wrong - normally I yell back "what's wrong?" or "just a minute", but this time I think I had an instinct that said something was wrong. I find him sitting on the toilet, slumped forward with his head between his knees. He can talk to me at this point, but I have to help him sit up - he really can't move - and his skin is quite yellow (which alarms me). By the time I have him sitting upright he's not talking to me any more, his eyes are only half open and not blinking and he can't squeeze my hand. I run and get my phone and call an ambulance. Now his breathing is laboured, and as the emergency call taker is asking me to "say now every time he takes a breath" his gasps are getting further apart. I have to get him clumsily onto the floor of our tiny, narrow bathroom and give him chest compressions. 2 ambulances are on their way. Minutes later I have 4 ambulance crew members working on my husband in our tiny bathroom, and I have no idea what is going on. By midnight S is in emergency at the local hospital, and I'm in a private waiting room, alone. I call my Mum - I've already called his Dad on my way to the hospital in my car (they didn't take me in the ambulance). It's about 12:30 when a doctor comes to talk to me. Infection. Kidneys and liver struggling. Blood pressure through the floor. No white blood cells. This is by no means good. By the time I get to see him in Emergency I have my Mum and his Dad with me. S is basically in an induced coma and about to be moved up to ICU. It's about 1:30am. Once he's moved to ICU we wait in another waiting room for more news. A surgical consultant comes and sees us - I think it's nearly 3am - she says surgery is not an option. The infection is in his digestive system. There is no clear area to surgically remove, and his system is so weak it would not take well to surgery anyway. S's Dad leaves soon after that. This is hard for him. It was only 3 years ago that he was here in this very ward with his wife. This is where she passed away after an infection she just could not fight. He tells me "don't let them put him down" - I guess because he had to make that decision for his wife/S's Mum. I think it's after 6:30am when I decide to go to the intercom and buzz the nurses station to find out what's going on. They let us in to see him. All they can tell us is that they are throwing every kind of medical support they can at him in the hope they can help him fight off the infection - blood products, meds to raise the blood pressure, antibiotics. He's been ventilated through a tube in his mouth since the ambulance. They have to run a heating vent to raise his body temperature. They let me into the room, but I see no point in holding his hand or anything - he is unconscious, he won't know I'm there. We go home. I had about 3 hours sleep. By the time I could crawl into bed it was about 8am. By 11am people are starting to text me asking what's going on, checking if I'm okay. I had managed to text my boss about needing to call an ambulance while I was in the emergency waiting room. He's now replied to say I don't need to be at work today, but in the back of my mind is the fact that I have a show to work on, starting on Sunday - we are so busy that there will be no one else who can replace me on this show. (And we had a Federal Election on Saturday as well, so I was going to have to fit voting in around visiting S). At some point on this day a doctor calls me to get permission to administer a drug to S. This drug is not approved for use in Australia, but it is approved in the US. As a result they will have to ship it in from interstate, because there is not much

stock in the country, and I have to sign my permission for them to use it. It is a reversal drug for the 5 day chemo medication. It works best if administered soon after the chemo treatment - we are already past the ideal timeframe, but it is our best shot at helping S. S is unconscious and fighting for the next couple of days, and I'm half dreading that call that says things have taken a turn for the worse, come now! Instead, I see him for a short period each day, but he doesn't know I'm there. And I keep doing the work I have to do - at least this show is close to home for me, and close to the hospital. He is being supported by the blood pressure medication (Noradrenaline) which they are slowly able to reduce in dose, his temperature is stabilising, and the chemo reversal drug has had some positive effect. His white cell count is coming up - probably with the help of the blood products he's been given. By Tuesday 21st May S is awake and aware, and they have been able to remove the ventilator tube. The Physio is concerned about how weak he is - movement in his arms and legs is limited. He is breathing on his own, but it's hard work because his muscles are weak. His lips and mouth have been bleeding a bit around where the tube was. Still, we are seeing slow, small improvements and hoping for the best. On Friday they have to re-insert the breathing tube - he is too weak to maintain his breathing without assistance. This is a set-back, and comes with a warning that the breathing tube can't stay in his mouth/throat for too long, because it can cause all kinds of complications, especially in his compromised state. They tell me that without marked improvement soon they may have to perform a tracheotomy and insert the ventilator there. By this stage they have moved from nasogastric feeding to Parenteral nutrition (intravenously). The peg is still leaking. I'm now getting into a rhythm visiting S when I can for as long as I can around my work hours, and answering enquiries about his health and well wishes from family and friends on both my phone and his. I no longer have rehearsals every night, and the weekend's performances go pretty well. I know he's still critical, but he's stable and despite the set back S seems to be on a path of slight improvement again. The next set-back comes in the form of a flare up of the infection. The gut is still very inflamed - particularly the bowel. More blood products, more antibiotics, Noradrenaline dosage increased again. There is a mention that he probably has a slow internal bleed somewhere. Clotting is a problem - the bleeding in his lips and mouth is evidence of this too. Before I go to my Friday show I have to sign the permission for them to perform the tracheotomy - they've decided it needs to be done, and an emergency surgical team will do it but it could be a day or two before the operation actually goes ahead. Through this entire week S has been awake and aware, communicating with me as best he can around the breathing tube and the bleeding lips, which are scabby and sore. He is still very much alive mentally, still able to laugh at our corny jokes and request the music be turned up! Being in ICU he's not allowed flowers of gifts or anything, but they did allow me to take in a little blue tooth speaker so he could have the radio on all day. I see him as early as visiting hours allow on Saturday 1st June - his 42nd birthday. I have 2 shows on this day, and won't be able to see him again until Sunday. I leave the hospital soon after his Dad and brother arrive for a visit, around 11:30. Around 12:30, while I'm running sound checks for the matinee show, I get a phone call asking me for permission to do the tracheotomy. At first this confuses me - they have permission already. Apparently they are now doing it in ICU, not in the emergency theatre or wherever. He was more drowsy on the Sunday, after the tracheotomy, but still essentially in the same condition - stable. I cried off sick for work on Monday and spent a bit more time with him - I knew I had to be at work on

Tuesday for a morning staff meeting. The hospital social worker called me before I went to visit S, wanting to arrange a "family meeting" for this week some time. At first we settled on Friday morning, but later they asked me if we could arrange a time earlier in the week. After re-arranging my work schedule we agreed on 3pm Tuesday, even though S's Dad would not be able to be there anymore. Then I arrived for my Monday visit with S. We had the radio on - S likes to have music playing, even when he's falling asleep - and the announcers were talking about the State of Origin (a Rugby League series of 3 matches between rival state teams, New South Wales and Queensland). I told him I'd make sure we put the radio on the right station on Wednesday night so he could listen. Suddenly the most important thing in the world for him was finding a way to be able watch the game! I told him I'd find a way. Tuesday comes and I get through my staff meeting and a few other things on my now half day before running back to the hospital for this family meeting. It turns out this is just me, S, his ICU team, his oncology team and the social working re-capping what S has been through so far, and then scaring me (and more so S) by saying out loud the words "Palliative care". Essentially they are telling us we are out of further options. He is being given everything possible to assist recovery - the blood pressure meds are now at a low dose, but they still have to support his blood pressure, he is still on a ventilator to assist his breathing, the infection is still not improving, but it has not got worse, they have run out of different antibiotics to throw at the infection, it still seems the bleed is present, the scabs on his lips are still apt to bleed more than they should if they are disturbed. If his organs start to fail there will be nothing they can do - surgery will more than likely not be an option, and one failure will lead to another until his heart, then brain will go and that will be it. So, if we start to see organ failure palliative care becomes the only option. This is the point at which I am in disbelief. He can't be that bad. He is still totally alive mentally. How can we be discussing "making him comfortable until he dies"? And S is even more disbelieving and scared than me at those words. Yes S has looked better, yes he has spent over 2 and a half weeks in ICU, yes he has a lot more hard fighting to do if he's ever going to beat this, but his brain is fine, he is completely aware of where he is and what's going on around him - just a bit inclined to tire quickly. I stay with him longer than I intend to that night because he starts to complain of stomach pain. It gets worse. Really bad. They give him morphine. He says it doesn't help. His breaths start hitching, like something is stabbing him or something. He finally gives me the description "like hiccoughs, but sore". I can see how swollen his stomach is - fluid retention. And he is also complaining that he wants to lie on his side. We have to wait ages for the right number of people to be available to turn him on his side, to a more comfortable position. But his stomach is still giving him intense pain and whatever spasms are causing the breath hitches and grimaces. I have to leave him like that - in pain, but with the nurse on duty doing whatever he can to ease the discomfort, administering Morphine whenever possible - visiting hours are over and I'm asked to leave. On my way to work on Wednesday morning (5th June) I get a call from the head doctor in S's ICU team. He wants to know what time I can be there today - S has had major abdominal pain since last night (I know, I was there!), and they are investigating the cause, but it looks like the kidneys are failing. He tells me he will update me via text when he knows more, I tell him I will get there as soon as I can after work. I get no texts all day. I get to the hospital around 4:45pm - armed with the all important iPad mini for him to watch the State of Origin game on (yes, that is still a priority for S! God

love him!!). I'm told S has been taken for a scan and I need to come back in about an hour. So, when I return and he's back from the scan, I get the iPad hooked in to the Wifi and open the app he needs. Then I have to have the conference with the doctor. His kidneys have failed. Fluid is building up in his stomach. They want my permission to put a drain directly in his belly to ease the pressure. I give it. I have to wait outside while they get this done. There is a brief discussion about surgery - but that would literally be futile. Again we have the conversation about palliative care. This is the beginning of the end. His body is shutting down. S can't fathom this. He says the words that still break my heart, pointing to his head to indicate his mind he mouths "I'm still alive". He has so much to say, but we can't understand him through the scabs on his lips and his inability to make any real sounds. We try to get him to write things down, but his hands are really too weak. The doctor has asked if he wants to have the pain medication increased so he can slip away peacefully. The sentence he writes is "I just want to see how I go" - he wants so badly to keep fighting. He doesn't want to die. Once the doctor is sure he is comfortable for now he leaves us to watch the game - no S has not forgotten the game! He does not administer the pain medication, but he gives the authorisation for its use once S requests it. And although I had not planned to stay and watch the game (which starts around the time visiting hours end), I do. They let me stay. He nods off a bit during the second half, but I know how much seeing it means to him, so I rouse him for the good bits, and make sure he sees the end - a good result for him, a come-from-behind win for his team. I say my goodnight and leave S to get some sleep. I have told my boss how dire things are, and he has told me I have leave starting now for as long as I need. I get a call around 9:30 on Thursday morning asking me what time I will be getting to the hospital. Apparently S has been asking for me. I had a couple of things to do before I could get there, so I arrive just after 11:30am. S is not as awake and aware as he was last night. They have started giving him the pain medication (Fentanyl) the doctor was talking about, and it has affected S's ability to focus, and therefore communicate. He has apparently been asking what's going on - last night he knew the story, now he's unclear. I wish they had held off on administering the drug. I would have liked to speak to my clear headed husband today. His kidneys have failed, the liver is failing. We are out of options. His Dad and brother are in and out today - we are kind of rotating our breaks until early afternoon. A Palliative Care consultant, and the social worker and the nurse looking after S want to have a meeting with me, and it takes me longer than it should to realise that this meeting is for me to give the final word on the beginning of the end. They are focusing on making sure I am okay with what's about to happen. Making sure I know that I have the final say, and once I give the go ahead they will stop all meds that aren't making him comfortable - the Fentanyl dose will increase, but the feeding, the antibiotics and finally the Noradrenaline will be stopped. It will then be a matter of minutes or hours before he is gone. I know they are trying to be helpful, but having them ask if I'm okay, having them tell me how strong I have been for him and how much of an advocate for him I have been is only making my heart break more. That afternoon, his brother, sister-in-law and their 4 kids, my brother and sister-in-law and 2 of their kids all come in to say their farewells. The Fentanyl dose has already been increased, so S knows they are there, but he is so drowsy it's hard for him to open his eyes. His sister-in-law wants to stay with me. She doesn't seem to understand I need to be alone with S for this. But, at last she gives me space. I'm the one who has to give the green light. It's really hard to do, but I know we

are out of options. As soon as they stop the blood pressure medication (Noradrenaline), S opens his eyes and looks at me. He is as focused as I have seen him all day, his grip on my hand is desperately strong, and I explain to him one final time what is happening, tell him I love him, tell him I'm sorry things turned out this way, sorry for all the things we had planned that we won't get to do together, and tell him it's time to stop fighting and just let go. I try to tell him not to worry about anything or anyone, that it's okay to go. I hope he understands. It must be about 40 minutes before he is unconscious. They stop the ventilator. I turn off the radio - he can't hear it anymore, and he and I have different taste in music! I know he can't feel it anymore, but I won't let go of his hand until he's gone. He holds on for over an hour without the ventilator. Then there are no more breaths. I know he's gone. His hand is already much cooler than it was an hour or so ago. I am a widow. It has happened so fast. It feels strange, but I don't think the full weight has hit me yet. I am bursting into tears at random moments. I am thinking of stupid things like "what am I going to do with all these Fruit Loops - he eats those, not me!", instead of dwelling on the hard things like having a funeral to arrange, and dealing with all the people who keep wanting to do things for me, or stay with me.

That was two years ago now. In excess of 300 people came to his funeral service - a testament to how many friends he made, how many lives he brightened just that little bit with his generous spirit and ever-present smile. Of course, I still miss him. I still have my teary moments. I still struggle with guilt. But I remember his smile, his laugh, the way he would sing along to the music and make up his own words (often to make the song about us), his spontaneous dancing and all the love!

[tra-sh]

Mine to Hold (Bucky Barnes ABO)

Bucky comes back from Wakanda and you feel different around him. What's your solution? Avoid him until it goes away. This doesn't go over well with him.

Sometimes, on days like today, you find yourself staring out over your surroundings and wondering: how exactly did you get here? When people you where you work, you would answer “Stark Industries,” and nothing more. When those same people inquired who you work for, they would receive a tight-lipped smile, and perhaps a “Tony Stark,” laced with sarcasm. After all, how could you explain to the public that you worked for the Avengers? It was much easier and less exasperating to give a little white lie. You couldn’t even begin to imagine the hoards of fans who would follow you to work or try to convince you to slip them a photo of a sleeping Thor.

You'd long forgotten how you had ended up in this position, but you couldn’t imagine working anywhere else. You spent most of your time working with Dr. Banner, helping in the lab, and performing first aid on missions. Of course, you'd needed combat training, which the team was more than happy to provide. You had been afraid when you presented as an Omega a few years back, but nothing changed in the tower dynamic. No one treated you as if you were a fragile little doll, ready to break with the slightest touch.

You felt as though you were going against your biology and stepping out of the pack mentality-- and hell if it wasn’t thrilling. However, the doting and motherly nature of the Omega would often rear its head in regards to your team. The longer you worked with everyone, the more protective you felt over them. You would flit about nervously if one of them was on a dangerous mission, and launch a frenzy of panicked questions while checking them for injuries upon their return. It wasn’t too bad with the Alphas (Natasha, Steve, and Thor), but you couldn’t stop yourself from worrying over Clint and Bruce (Betas), and Tony who was the only other Omega in the tower. When Peter Parker began to visit, You'd guarded him almost immediately. You would coo over him and dote on the boy, and he would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it. Peter had yet to emerge into a class, but You secretly hoped he would be an Omega like you and Tony. The tower was constantly full of competing Alpha pheromones and it was very overwhelming at times.

Yes, it was times like these where you looked at your current life and smile. You felt so at home here, and the Avengers were nothing more than family to you.

You walk into the living room and laugh softly at the group that had congregated in front of the TV. Tony was showing Thor the movie Wall-E, and the others had most likely filed in one by one and sat down. There were also times when you felt like a glorified babysitter. You step down into the living room, heels clicking against the hardwood floor. In addition to working the med-bay on missions, you often helped Pepper with the more official side of Stark Industries. You couldn't help but feel bad for the overworked Beta and assisted her as often as you could. She'd learned rather quickly that Tony listened to you more than her anyways.

“Tony?” You ask quietly. You rest your hand on his shoulder to get his attention.

Tony’s head lulls back, his eyes still trained on the cartoon robot in front of him. You roll your eyes and snort.

“You have a meeting today at 6:00? New York Times interview, remember?”

Tony made a strangled heave as if signaling to you that he didn’t want to go. “I know you don’t want to, but this is the one we’ve rescheduled three times already,” you point out. Tony groans as his head falls back to hit the couch. “Can’t they find some other superhero to interview? How about Ant-man? He has nothing better to do,” Tony offered. You shake your head and sigh. “I’m absolutely telling Henry you said that, and they specifically want to do an article on Iron man,” you remind him.

Tony was about to protest when F.R.I.D.A.Y interrupts. “Sir? James Barnes is at the entrance.” You can't help the fluttering in your stomach as you resist the urge to look at the elevator. Bucky is back?

Tony shot up off the couch grinning ear to ear. “Oh darn! I forgot our dear little soldier's mission ended this week! Guess we’ll have to cancel that appointment?” He feigned disappointment, shooting you a pleading look. You glare at him but eventually give in with a sigh. “You can explain to Pepper why I’m canceling. I’m not taking the fall for this one,” you mutter and pull out your phone. Tony cheered as he sauntered out of the room, presumably to greet the new guest. You hold your phone up to your ear and crane your neck as subtly as you can manage to try to catch a glimpse of the winter soldier. "Hello?" Pepper's voice carries through the speaker, catching you off guard.

"Oh! Hey, Pepper, sorry if I'm interrupting," you apologize quickly. "Not at all. Is something going on?" Pepper asks. You don't usually call her unless there's bad news coming. You spare a glance over to the elevators. "Yes, I'm afraid Tony is very adamant about not going to the New York Times interview today," you explain. Pepper makes a strangled sort of noise over the phone. Uh oh, she's really pissed. "And why exactly does Tony not want to go this time?" Pepper asks, trying to mask the edge to her tone.

Before you can answer, Tony strolls back into the living room with a very shy brunette in tow. Nat and Steve are the first to welcome him back. You feel your throat clench as you stare at him. To say Bucky was an attractive man would be a deplorable understatement. While his body language was very closed off and introverted, he dripped Alpha pheromones. Stupid Omega brain, you think to yourself. You and Bucky were fairly good friends, you'd say. You two would sit in comfortable silence with each other when he wasn't on missions, reading books or making small talk. You knew Bucky was put off by the social ranks, and you were scared for a while that he would avoid you after you presented an Omega. But your relationship stayed fairly stable much to your delight.

When Bucky's scent filled your nostrils and you felt a soothing calm wash over you. He smells like freshly ground coffee, cinnamon, and something earthy- like sage or myrrh. As embarrassing as it was to admit, his smell made you feel grounded and safe. "Hello?" Pepper wondered. 

"Right! Sorry, Pepper, actually Tony is here now if you'd like to speak with him," you offer, turning back towards him. Tony blanched and began to shake his head vigorously. You grin deviously at him before thrusting the phone in his hand. "You're the worst- Hey Pepper!" Tony quickly switches to his charming personality, making a beeline out of the living room so no one can hear her yell at him.

You laugh and turn around to look back in the living room. Bucky turns to look at you and gives you a gentle smile, making your stomach perform flips. He lumbers over to where you stand, looking down. "Hey, doll," he greets quietly. You can't help the smile that ghosts across your lips as you stare up at him. Were his eyes always that blue? You try to shake the thought from your mind. "Hi, Buck," you reply. "How was your mission?" You ask quickly, trying to maintain the conversation. Was it always this hard for you to talk to him? "Not too bad," he mumbles. "Shuri says hi."

You perk up at this and beam at him. "You saw her? How is she? Is everyone doing okay?" You can't stop the ramblings as they spill from your lips. Bucky laughs and you feel a hot blush creep up your neck. "Too much?" You ask cautiously. He shakes his head and rests a hand on your shoulder. "Just enough," he says. Your stomach clenches as you look at him. His peaceful smile, the way your skin tingles under his grip. You felt strange and it was beginning to poke and prod at your fight or flight response. "I have to go help Doctor Banner," you say quickly before excusing yourself from the room. Your heart was beating fast and your face felt hot. What was happening to you? Bucky watched you leave, a frown tugging at his lips.

"So, are you going to tell me what's wrong?" Bruce asks after a while.

Your head snaps up and you stare at him. "What?" You ask dumbly. He scoffs and places his coffee mug down on a nearby desk. "You reek," he points out. You flush and realize he's right; you're putting out distress pheromones. You sigh and move to sit down on the small lounge chair Tony had brought into the lab. Bruce often worked well into the night, so the lab also functioned as a living space.

"Bucky's back," you say hesitantly.

Bruce sits next to you quietly, urging you to continue. "It feels different," you tell him. "Like, before I could ignore his scent and everything and be close you know? But now it's like my brain wants me to jump his bones," you prattle off, your face growing redder with each confession. Bruce listens patiently, waiting for you to finish. "Well, it sounds to me like you've chosen Barnes as a potential mate," he says. You feel your body go rigid as you stare at your friend in shock.

"What?"

Bruce leans back on the couch, deep in thought. "Sometimes Omegas will seek out and choose a mate out of a group of Alphas," he explains. "It's not uncommon, although today you don't really see Omegas taking the initiative. Your body is trying to claim Bucky."

You shoot up from the couch, stumbling away from Bruce as he speaks. "No, no no-- I can't claim Bucky!" You shrill. Bruce sighs and walks over to you. He puts his hands on your shoulders in an attempt to calm you down. Betas weren't as commanding as Alphas, but his presence still helped to decrease your heart rate. "I'm afraid it's not up to you," Bruce says quietly. "Your brain chose Bucky and it's not going to let go of him unless the Alpha rejects the claim."

Your body shivers at the idea of Bucky rejecting you. Why does it make you so sad? Despair rolls off you in waves, making Bruce flinch. "I'm sorry, kiddo," he adds. "Is there something you can do? Raise the dose of my suppressants?" You ask hopefully. Bruce sighs, dropping his hands. "That's too dangerous. It could make you miss your heat for a prolonged amount of time, which would only make matters worse," he explains. You look at the ground and feel your eyes sting with unwelcome tears.

What were you supposed to do now?

Over the next few days, you fall into a carefully planned routine. You've discovered that if you only see Bucky in short bursts of time, it's easier for you to suppress the Omega instincts. You sit with him and talk to him for a few moments at a time, before finding some excuse to leave. Although you try to convince yourself it's the right thing to do, it gets progressively harder and harder for you to leave.

Everyone in the tower has noticed your behavior; especially Bucky. He saw through your excuses almost immediately, and it made his stomach sink. He couldn't help the ill-placed thought that you no longer wanted to be around him. He was the only one in the tower that you would avoid and he didn't like it. He almost growled when he saw you train with Sam instead of him. Since when were you so close to Sam?

Bucky didn't realize he was sitting on the couch pouting until Steve came over. "Jesus, Buck," Steve said. "It reeks in here." Bucky's lips pulled into a snarl as he glared at Steve. The blonde super soldier raised a brow at his friend's actions. Since when did Bucky act like this? "You're acting like a lovesick pup," Steve points out. Bucky grumbles something under his breath, looking away.

Why was he acting like this? He wasn't even sure. Bucky feels so on edge like the slightest movement will set him off. It's unfamiliar to him, and he hates it. "I know," he sighs after a moment. "I don't know why." Bucky looks up to Steve with an exasperated expression. Steve hums quietly and sits on the chair across from the winter soldier. "It wouldn't have anything to do with the Omega you're so close with, would it?" Bucky's grip on his metal arm tightens.

"She's avoiding me," Bucky mutters. Steve looks away, his eyes scanning the living room for any unwanted ears. He's noticed your new attitude towards Bucky, but Steve wasn't as naive. He knew mating behavior when he saw it, considering how Tony had acted before they claimed one another. "Have you tried asking her?" Steve wonders. Bucky scoffs and his grip gets tighter. "She won't stay long enough for me to try," he growls. The more he thinks about you and Sam the angrier he gets. Steve smells the anger and tries to suppress his Alpha instinct to fight. He clears his throat, looking at Bucky. "Buck, you need to talk to her. You can't just sit here and stink up the place. You're not the only Alpha in the tower," Steve reminds him. He gets up and leaves the living room quickly, trying to clear his head. Bucky sighs, looking down at his feet.

How would he talk to you if you wouldn't stick around long enough to get a word in?

Bucky stands outside your door, hesitating. He's been in here before, sure. But that was before you'd started avoiding him. He debates turning around and leaving. The last thing Bucky wanted was to fuel your hatred toward him. He felt something in his chest tighten at that thought. Did you hate him? He pushed the thought away and steeled his mind, trying to focus through the Alpha thoughts telling him to find you and take what's his. He knocked softly at the door and waited. No response came, making Bucky frown. Were you still in the gym? He chewed his lip nervously. Were you with Sam?

Bucky felt a possessive surge in his brain at the thought of you training with Sam for over two hours. He pushed his way into the room and looked around. His eyes fell on the bed and he froze.

He stared at the nest of fluffed pillows and clothing on your bed, placed in such a way that there was a little divot in the middle for you to curl up in. He felt something snap in his brain as he looked at the nest with white-hot anger.

Whose clothes had you taken? Who were you nesting with?

He stormed closer to the bed until a familiar scent hit him like a wall. He blinked, staring at the mound of pillows before him. Were those... his? He stared at a familiar pair of sweatpants and a balled-up t-shirt. Did you bring his clothes into your nest? Your safe space? This realization made Bucky's chest flutter. His scent was all over the pillows and sheets, and it made his pride soar. You wanted him in your safe place; he was comforting to you. Bucky couldn't help the smug grin that danced across his lips. Well, now he knew you didn't hate him at least. But why would you avoid him? Bucky decided at that moment that he needed to talk with you- whether you wanted to or not.

Bucky paced around the tower, brows knit together in concern. No one had seen you for a few hours. Where had you gone? Did you leave because of him? To make matters worse, you weren't answering your phone.

Bucky glanced around anxiously. He debated running around the city to look for you, but where would he even start? F.R.I.D.A.Y didn't even know your location. Why was no one else panicking? The elevator in the middle of the floor dinged and Bucky immediately looked up. You walked into the tower looking down at your phone in shock. '23 missed calls from Jon Snow'. You felt your face grow hot as you try to ignore the fluttering in your chest. Why did Bucky call you 23 times? He never used his phone unless it was for emergencies. You look up and freeze in your spot. Bucky is standing in front of the elevator, staring at you like a man in the desert would an oasis. You felt your knees grow weak at the desperation in his gaze. "Bucky?"

He's about to question you when an unpleasant smell wafts through his nose. You shrink back at the anger that settles on his features. Was he upset with you?

Bucky glares at your neck, where the unfamiliar smell is coming from. Why did you smell like an Alpha? Had someone scented you? It didn't smell like anyone he knew and it made his blood boil. "Who did it?" Bucky growls after a pause. Your brows knit together in confusion. Who did what? You wrack your brain for what he could be upset about when suddenly it clicks in your mind. "Bucky, it was--" Before you can finish your sentence, Bucky whisks you away to the sleeping quarters. A started noise leaves your lips as he heaves you over one shoulder effortlessly.

Bucky carries you swiftly into his room, dropping you on the bed like a rag doll. "Bucky," you begin again only to be interrupted by the Alpha crawling over you. He pins you down to the bed and brings his head to your neck. You shudder and present your scent gland to him almost immediately. Bucky preens at this and happily marks you. He does it over and over until your own smell is barely a whisper. You know you're practically dripping in Bucky's scent, and something in your brain sighs happily as if to say, 'more!'

He seems satisfied with his work and looks up to your flushed face. You can't help the purr that slips out of you as you look at the proud Alpha above you. Your body feels light and airy as if you're floating. A languid smile drifts across your lips as you stare at Bucky. He sits up, dragging you forward so you rest on his lap. "My 'mega," he mutters under his breath. You preen at the claim, nuzzling your nose against his cheek.

"If you've gotten that out of your system, can I explain now?" Bucky nods begrudgingly, making you chuckle. You lean forward and place a soft kiss on his forehead. "I was with Pepper at a meeting for a new Stark Industries internship program," you begin. "One of the interns was nervous and accidentally scented while I was next to him."

Bucky frowned. If you were with Pepper, why didn't anyone tell him? "Who knew you left?" Bucky asks, rubbing his chin on your shoulder absentmindedly. "I told Tony," you say, pausing to think. "Tony and Steve."

Bucky curses under his breath. This was probably Steve's way of making him talk to her. You look at him, your heart swelling in your chest. Had he been worried? Why did that make you so happy? Bucky pulls away and you whine at the loss of his warmth. "We need to talk," Bucky says finally. You feel a rush of dread pool in your stomach but you manage to nod.

"You've been avoiding me." You look away and bite your lip. You knew he would notice eventually, but it still made you nervous. "I know," you whisper. You feel guilt settle in the pit of your stomach and you sigh. You should have told him sooner but you were just too afraid of what he'd say.

"I saw your nest," Bucky adds.

Your face flushes as you look at him in shock. "You did?" You squeak. Bucky nods, looking you in your eyes. "Why were you avoiding me?" He asks. You look down and sigh softly. "I, um," you fumble over your words as you try to think. "I might have-- unknowingly-- claimed you?" You say awkwardly. Bucky feels his stomach flip at your confession. "Did you not want to?" Bucky whispers. "No! I do!" You say quickly, before realizing your words. Your face turns pink as Bucky raises a brow at you. "I know you weren't exactly thrilled about the classes, and I was afraid you'd reject me," you murmur. "Oh, doll," Bucky sighs, leaning forward. He places a kiss on your cheek and you feel his stubble scratch against your skin. "I was worried that you wouldn't like me as an Alpha," he admits. "I didn't want you to think I was just some knot-head looking for a rut." You're quick to shake your head and look up at him with a reassuring smile. "Bucky, I could never think that about you," you say quietly.

He hums in appreciation and peppers your face with light kisses. Your chest flutters at the affection and you turn your head to nuzzle his face with your own. A pleasant silence falls over the room, and you swear you can hear your heartbeat pounding away. Bucky's arms tighten around your frame, holding you close. You reach up timidly and rest your palms on his chest. A small smile ghosts over your lips when you feel his heartbeat speed up at your touch. Bucky leans down and places a gentle kiss on your shoulder, closing his eyes. "Mine," he whispers.

You feel your chest swell with pride and you can't help the grin that takes over your features. You plant a loving kiss against his hair and wrap your arms tightly around his shoulders.

"Yours."

[doof-doofblog]

"It's Not Yours!"

Tuesday 4th May 2021

Hello again everyone and good morning! I'm up bright and early today to make sure I get this post up! So in the previous post I recalled everything I had caught up on, and Monday's episode ended on a bit of a cliff-hanger. Now Callum has revealed everything to Ben, are they going to be able to move on from this?! I'm really looking forward to finding out, so without further ado, lets focus on the episode!

The first thing I'm going to mention of course is Ben & Callum! Ben appears to be seething after learning the truth about Callum's betrayal to his family. Even though we all know that Callum was blackmailed into going behind the Mitchell's back, he tries his absolute best to explain himself to Ben. But the one thing that Ben wants to know is who was behind it, as he slams the dining room table in anger he demands Callum tells him truth. Realising he's going to have to come clean, Callum admits that it was Thompson who was behind everything. Ben begins to panic, asking him what he actually knows or what he's been told. But Callum swears that Thompson knows nothing and he hasn't told them anything.

As things escalate, Callum tries to persuade Ben that if they still love each other they can both get through anything together, but for Ben there seems to be no way back from this. He can't seem to fathom that he's been sharing his bed with someone who has betrayed his family and basically become a grass. Later on, as Ben takes some time to breathe and digest what he's just learnt, he take a visit to his Mum's. Kathy can see that Ben isn't looking in the best of moods considering he's due to be married soon. As Ben makes a slight comment stating that she shouldn't have bothered collecting the wedding rings, Kathy sits beside her son and demands an explanation. Ben doesn't really tell her very much, only that Callum has lied to him about something, but Kathy finds that hard to believe and questions whether her own son is has played a guilty part in any way. She actually gives her son some good advice - Callum is the best thing that's ever happened to him, if he loves him he needs to sort things out before their wedding!

As Ben listens to his Mum, he returns to the Mitchell household where Callum is anxiously waiting for him. But this time, there is no raised voices and no arguing, Ben is more quiet this time. In my opinion, it looks as if Ben blames himself for the way Callum has become. He recalls that when they first met, Callum was sweet and honest and terrible liar, but since he's been with him, Ben seems to think that he's somehow turned his fiancé into something he's not. Callum shakes his head, not believing a word that's coming out of Ben's mouth. Ben still voices his concern of not being good enough for Callum, claiming that at some point in the future he will hurt Callum, possibly more than once - not that he'll ever mean to but at some point, Callum will end up hurt. Callum refuses to listen to his partner and asks him straight out whether he loves him or not. Even though Ben admits that he does love Callum, he announces that regardless of that - there isn't going to be a wedding! Could this really be the end of Ballum? Will Ben be able to forgive his partner and actually end up marrying the one person he truly loves?!

--

The next thing I have to mention is Isaac, we saw that he flushed his medication down the drain - are things slowly taking a turn for Isaac now he's off his medication? Whilst he's sat in the Cafe, he seems to be staring at the missing poster of Bailey - but suddenly he begins to rip down every poster he finds as he realises that they've missed a digit on the phone number. Everyone seems shocked by this action, especially Lola. Even though Isaac explains why he's ripped down the posters, it looks as if Lola questions whether ripping them down was the best idea? He could've simply taken them down without ripping them or just simply penned in the missing digit?

As Keegan and Bernie continue searching the streets for Bailey, Keegan is saddened to see one of their posters ripped. Bernie tries to console Keegan by explaining that it could've been immature kids. But as they go off on their separate ways, Keegan witnesses Isaac ripping down more posters. As anger boils up inside him he rushes after him and confronts him about why he's ripping down their posters. Once again Isaac notifies him that he was doing them a favour because they missed a digit. As Keegan checks over the poster he realises his mistake, his anger evaporates and turns into worry, speculating that people might've been trying to call trying to notify them that Bailey had been seen or even found. As Keegan apologises for his outburst, Isaac is completely understanding saying that he would've reacted exactly the same way.

However as the day goes on, Lola decides to pay her boyfriend a visit, only as she walks in she can see that he's looked like he's not slept and is completely obsessed over finding Bailey. Could these small signs be the sign of a breakdown for Isaac? Lola pleads that her boyfriends gets some rest otherwise his meds won't work. However as soon as she mentions his medication, Isaac goes cold and she can see that he's hiding something from her. He realises that he can't keep this secret from her and informs her that he's stop taking his medication, but he's feeling fine! Lola seems shocked to hear this news and questions whether it's the right thing to do, to make sure that Isaac will be okay without his medication, she makes him promise to inform his doctor about coming off his meds. But even though Isaac promises, I've got the feeling that he has no intention about informing his doctor or even his parents that he's flushed his medication.

Meanwhile as the Taylor's are still fretting about Bailey, Jack decides to inform them that another way of getting the word out there about Bailey's disappearance would be to do a TV appeal. Even though Karen agrees to do it, Mitch doesn't feel that it'll make much difference and hides himself away whilst Karen tries to come up with a speech. Will Bailey be found safe and well?!

--

Now the last thing I have to mention of course is the Carter's. As Nancy prepares to open up the gym with Sharon and Zack, Frankie pays her visit trying to inform her half-sister that she completely understands Linda's worry, but also acknowledges that she's on Nancy's side. At the end of the day it's her body and she can do what she wants, she just wants to be the supportive sister. This act of kindness seems to really touch Nancy, she thanks her half-sister and invites her to take part in a trial run of the electric bike. This is the moment where I think Nancy realises that she'll always have a sister there to support her - which I found really sweet!

Only, without Nancy's knowledge, her Mum has gone behind her back and gone to the clinic and cancelled her appointment. Linda of course only thinks she's doing right by her daughter, but she needs to understand that it's not her body, she can't control Nancy's life. Only as Linda tries to explain herself to the doctor, she becomes a little light-headed and has to take a rest. As the doctor offers to check her over to make sure she's okay, Linda seems to realise what is actually happening to her - she seems to think she might be pregnant!

Returning back to the gym whilst Nancy and Frankie enjoy some sisterly bonding, Nancy receives a call and it looks as if it's not the best news. As everyone comes together back at the Vic, Nancy is raging with anger and explaining the phone call she has had to her Dad, she's learnt that her Mum has actually gone behind her back and cancelled her appointment. As Linda enters she tries to explain that she was only thinking of her daughter, but Nancy is furious, shouting at her Mum that she's the one who actually shouldn't be allowed kids! As Nancy walks out leaving Linda and Mick alone - Mick is also shocked to hear what his wife has done and claims that if it's something that Nancy really wants, hopefully she'll be able to rebook her operation.

Linda admits that all her life all she's tried to do was be the best Mum and support her children, but then she states "Maybe I'll get it right next time!" - Mick looks a bit confused and asks what she means by "Next time". But the pin suddenly drops and Mick realises that Linda is informing him that she's pregnant with her fifth child. Mick is completely over the moon, the look on his face is pure joy as he states that this is what the family has needed for a long time, a fresh start and a new little one in the family is just what they need, he joyously even thinks that Ollie would love having a little friend around, but then Linda drops the bombshell that she's actually in fact 5 months pregnant - if the dates add up correctly, it might mean that Mick isn't the father of the baby, and she could actually be pregnant with Max's child!

Oooh gosh!!! This is going to cause more sadness between Mick and Linda isn't it? Will she decide to keep the baby? Will Mick be able to stand by her if she's carrying someone else's child? We know that Kellie Bright is also pregnant herself and will be going on maternity leave at some point in the near future, but what could be her temporary exit story? I've got the feeling that maybe this could be it? Could this pregnancy come between the couple and will she feel the need to leave for a little while? Who knows? What do you guys think? I'd love to hear your thoughts and opinions on the recent episode! Thank you all for reading! I am so happy to be back and I can't wait to post up again very soon! Enjoy the rest of your day folks! Love you all xXx