#icu stay

[nautilusopus]

people in the tags of that post once again like "what do you mean i can't drive my car into oncoming traffic? look i've made a PERSONAL CHOICE to drive in whatever lane i like and i'm not forcing YOU to do it :) don't be a cop respect my decision"

[sweetdreamspootypie]

Also just got the text that my ward is partially locked down as a Covid ward again

Except a different ward has been the designated Covid ward for the last few months (so I've had less of a direct insight into numbers)

So either it's just us again

But that seems unlikely because if it was a planned designation as Covid ward they wouldn't have locked down that pod as that's the pod with a less powerful negative pressure ventilation system

Or it's overflow and thus the hospital Covid numbers have the entire other ward as designated Covid and now us as well

[ofcrossrcads]

oh

[thechaoticfanartist]

i once heard someone describe it as ‘pre-grief’. their pet was very elderly and didn’t have long left so they were experiencing that grieving-before-grieving a lot. giving the feeling a name like pre-grief made it easier to process and live with.

Pre-grief is probably a very fitting name for what I'm feeling. I still probably wouldn't want to call it that though because I don't want to think it'll happen, I'm just terrified it will.

[justalarryblog]

.

[undercover-bun-etc]

Realizing how screwed up the american public school system and it is fun.

[kittlyns]

It's always a little surreal for me when a parent commends me on being good or patient with their child cuz I'm quickly reminded that they have no idea the only group of people I'm truly comfortable around are kids

[burnheartmusic]

.

[je-suis-problematique]

We finally started reading this dark romance book we bought ages ago and I have some things that I want to say that are ironically not about the book at all but rather one of my partners because the book made me think of him. The book is about this girl who ends up fucking the grim reaper and while it isn't the best book ever it's written well enough for me to want to continue reading it and the grim reaper character – Letum – reminds me of Grael. Not in any direct way like his looks or his personality or anything but more simply because it's the grim fucking reaper and Grael is one canon plot point away from becoming his wraith self, Thresh. Honestly I SHOULD have been thinking of Thresh while reading this book but got Grael on the mind instead because when I imagined myself in the main protagonist's shoes, and pictured the events of the book happening to ME IRL, Letum translated into Grael for me. Don't know why or how else to explain it.

Anyway, Grael. My relationship with Grael started out a bit rocky because while I knew who Grael was and already admired him before he even formed, Grael had no idea who I was so there was a lot of wariness and mistrust on his part when we first met. He warmed up to me over time because I was so head over heels for him that I used every opportunity I got to spend time with him and he used to front/be co-conscious often so we interacted a lot. He got used to me and my antics and eventually even welcomed my very obvious feelings for him, albeit cautiously. We were still involved with our partner system at the time so receiving the go-ahead for me to properly date Grael was, uh, Difficult™, but when it finally happened we were both very excited to see where things will lead us. Grael is arguably the person I have the strongest bond with even if we don't live together.

We went through a lot together and I do mean fucking A LOT. He helped me handle a lot of Mainworld bullshit and I helped him sort his life out in the Otherworld, we were both there for each other at our lowest points, we were practically joined at the hip most of the time and aside from being romantic partners we also became each other's closest friend which I think is beautiful but the reason I am writing this post to begin with is to just. Say thank you to Grael for taking care of me this past year almost entirely on his own, while I was neck-deep in addiction.

I was the one fronting when we started using hard drugs therefore the decision to do so was 100% mine and I WILL hold myself accountable for it. I became frontlocked and, before the big detox that I went through, I experimented with a bunch of different drugs before settling on Fentanyl. I was already an addict before all that, I was abusing prescription drugs long before I touched MDMA or Cocaine and I used to have a drinking problem too, but eventually the high from the medication I was abusing wasn't enough anymore and I started using harder shit. The decision to start buying street drugs was made completely on a whim while already high on medicine and it was preceded by a rapid decline in my emotional and mental wellbeing. I attempted suicide three consecutive times in the span of two months before the drugs came. I was not okay and I only kept spiraling further down.

I don't remember much of that time anymore but from what I do remember, or more like.... From what I remember being told after the dust finally settled, my link to the Otherworld and the rest of the system was severed while I was busy using (which I did daily) and that translated into my Otherworld body slipping into a coma. Nobody could reach me on Main or wake me up in the Otherworld and a rift formed between me and the others that seemed unbridgeable at the time. Grael INSISTED on having my unconscious body be at his house (connected to life support and such just not in the hospital) and he tended to me himself around the clock. I have no memory of anything that he might have said to me back then since I couldn't really hear him or feel him but he said he'd keep me company, read to me, and play my favorite music. When I tell you this man is SO FINE.

So after months of being an intubated vegetable under Grael's care I decide to quit using drugs and detox IRL. I went through about a week of pure Hell on Earth, with the first 72 hours being the worst, but for some reason that grounded me back to reality well enough for me to finally be able to hear other alters again. IIRC the ones who kept me company after I returned home from the hospital were Jerome, Astarion, and Silco (I couldn't sleep from the immense discomfort after 72 hours of shaking, puking, and pain), maybe somebody else I am forgetting, and I could vaguely focus inwards again to see that I have awoken in the Otherworld too. Grael was the first person I saw and through tears he explained to me that I have been comatose and unreachable for weeks if not months. And I shit you not, after I regained my bearings enough to be able to hold a conversation, this motherfucker pulls out a brand new violin and says that he got it for me as a gift while I was out cold. I tell him I already own several violins and he goes, "this one's actually for me because I wanted you to teach me how to play so we can play together".

THIS MAN.

I retreated from the front soon after and didn't front again for a long time, Guts was the first one to take over. We managed to stay clean for two whole months following the detox but Zed dragged us back down again at some point and the others went back to using. Not me though. It took me a while to fully recover but I was serious about my decision to stay clean – I even got rid of my booze stash in the Otherworld and vowed never to touch any substances again. I'm not saying this makes me better than the others and that the others are somehow lesser for having a relapse, no. All I'm saying is that I changed my personal life around for the better after a year-long downward spiral, that's all. I straightened out all of my intimate relationships, worked on myself, worked on my subsystem, mended my relationship with my daughter and her father, figured out what I want to do with my life long-term, atoned for a lot of shit I did when I was at my worst. I've hurt people, you know. Many people. Some with malicious intent, others without meaning to, but I DID hurt them. I broke some cycles/patterns that I was perpetuating because of my trauma and apologized to those who deserved an apology from me. Not because I was expecting forgiveness but because it felt like it was the right thing to do.

And Grael? I started teaching him how to play violin like he wanted me to. I also started teaching him proper knife fighting and self-defense, and we had so much fun during our little training sessions. I fully integrated him into my life by encouraging him to mingle with my other partners and inviting him over to spend time with my daughter, too. He warmed up to her really fast. He even likes my dogs, kind of. When they don't jump on him or cover him with their drool. The biggest obstacle that we had to face as a couple during my recovery was Kovacs. When I finally got back up on my feet and decided I want to go back to work with Nightshade, Grael felt a bit.... sour that I'm keeping Kovacs on the team. Kovacs hurt him once, badly, and there was bad blood between them – but I didn't have it in me to kick Kovacs out despite all that. Even Kovacs himself said he'd leave if I told him to but I insisted that I wanted him to stay. Grael and I worked through the uncomfortable situation though and now he can even kind of tolerate Kovacs' presence without stabbing him on sight.

I wrote this whole post just to explain how much Grael means to me as a person. I couldn't ask for a better partner, the ONLY ONE who truly stayed by my side through thick and thin, even when he saw me at my worst, even when he saw how petty and malicious I can be, even when he saw me hurt people. Hurt myself. He stayed by my side through my depression, my PTSD, my personality disorders going out of control, my addiction taking over my life. He never left. He was always, ALWAYS there, even when I didn't know he was there or was too caught up in my own bullshit to acknowledge it. So. Thank you. From the bottom of my wretched soul,

Thank you.

– Chris

[froody]

There was a TikTok of an (American) woman who was documenting her husband’s ICU room and expressing displeasure with the state it was in, it was generally unclean with broken equipment, rust stains, clipped flooring, things that can make a medical environment unsafe. I opened the comments expecting people to be like “Wow, that’s scary. And a huge infection risk. ICU stays often cost patients upwards of $100k and not enough of that money is going to maintenance and cleaning.” But instead it was nurses being utterly vile to this woman. Not saying “You’re right, it’s terrible that we’re forced to do our jobs in unsafe, unclean and outdated environments.” they were telling her she was a prime example of why patients’ families were the worst part of their job.

The hospital that charged my insurance $87k for a single endoscopy & colonoscopy performed on me was recently fined for having dirty equipment. If not on sanitation, if not on giving nurses and providers better wages, if not on updating the facility, where the hell did that money go? If nurses could band together to attack and criticize hospital administration and the American medical system in the way they band together to attack and criticize patients and advocates online, all of our lives could improve.

But of course it is easier to raise the sword against the vulnerable person dependent on your care, on the people often experiencing the worst day of their life when they are too frightened and in pain to treat you with courtesy. It’s easier to lash out at the patient inquiring about their medication after waiting two hours than to lash out at the people responsible for making you responsible for 30 patients at once.

I don’t think anyone blames nurses for hospital rooms being nasty. It’s not their job. It’s the job of custodial staff and maintenance. It’s the job of administration to fund those departments. It’s a problem at the top. If we could all look upwards instead of down when it comes to who we criticize and blame, we could make progress.

[kiki-strike]

(taking a shower) WELL i got dressed every day this week! unfortunately, the horrors are back

[the-winds-of-destiny-xxx]

.

[leahwllmsn]

next to you

leah williamson x reader

Just when you start to patch things up with your ex, an accident happens.

; angst, mentions of car accident & injuries

“Keira?”

“y/n.”

You become more alert when Keira speaks. She sounds like she has been crying, her voice is hoarse and you can tell the urgency behind it despite having only heard one word.

You’re scared to ask, but you brace yourself and hope that it’s nothing bad. “What’s wrong?”

It takes a few seconds for Keira to answer, all you can hear is her heavy breathing.

“It’s Leah.”

And you really wish Keira had stayed silent just a bit longer.

“What—Leah? What happened?”

Keira lets out a shaky exhale and you want to cry at the thought that something bad has happened to Leah.

“Just… meet me here, it’s uhm—I forgot the name of the hospital—”

“Hospital?” you immediately stand up, your hands going to the nearest wall to steady yourself. You hear commotion on the other end of the call and your heart starts to beat erratically in your chest.

What is happening?

“Keira?” you’re on the verge of tears. You two were fine last night. Leah was perfectly fine. “Keira, please say something.”

“y/n? I’ll text you in a bit. The doctors are here. I have to go.”

Keira’s voice is a faint sound that you can’t concentrate on anymore. The only thought going through your head is that something has happened to your…Leah and you have to get to the hospital as soon as possible.

—

The moment you read Keira’s texts, you hurriedly leave your apartment, all the while trying to reply to Keira as best as you can with shaking hands.

You don’t ask Keira anything else, just a simple ‘where are you’, and once Keira answered, you don’t hesitate to run all the way there because thank god, it’s only two blocks away from your place and you wonder just how long you spend going about your day thinking that everything is fine when Leah is fighting for her life a few blocks away—

No. You quickly rid yourself of the thoughts. Leah is fine.

You’ll show up at the hospital lobby, ask for a ‘Leah Williamson’ and they’ll tell you which room she’s in and you’ll see her there, sitting on the hospital bed, maybe a few bandages on her smooth skin, yet her dazzling smile plasters her face.

You’ll then chastise her for being so clumsy and reckless and you’ll give her a hug—because you spent the whole day together but not once were you brave enough to give Leah a big, tight hug when you knew she was expecting it as you parted ways at the end of the night

(You don’t want to think about the possibility of Leah not being able to hug you back.)

Yeah. Everything is going to be okay.

But once you arrive at the hospital and you ask the nurses for a ‘Leah Williamson’ and they tell you she is in the ICU, you feel the scenario you were watching in your head disappear just like that.

Leah isn’t fine. It’s not going to be okay. It’s far from that if Leah is in the intensive care unit and you feel dread taking over you, making every step towards Leah a grueling task.

You spot Keira first. She’s on the floor, leaning against the wall opposite to the doors where Leah is. Her face is pale, hugging her knees tightly as she rocks herself back and forth. You’ve never seen her like this. Keira is always full of composure, never wearing her heart on her sleeves.

But now you can see that Keira is afraid. She looks terrified and worst of all, Keira looks hopeless.

You force yourself to stay calm and not jump to conclusions. So what if Leah is placed in the ICU? So what if Keira’s face is so panic-stricken and pale and her eyes puffy from all the crying? It could all mean nothing.

For all you knew, Leah is seconds away from getting discharged and then you can have lunch together at this new restaurant that you want to bring Leah to because you know Leah will love it.

But then Keira looks up, her eyes meeting yours, it’s finally sinking in that it may be more serious than what you let yourself to believe.

The next thing you know, Keira is hugging you, sobbing silently into your chest. “She won’t wake up, y/n.”

No.

“I was supposed to pick her up, but she said she’d call an uber instead. I don’t know what happened, y/n, I really don’t. I got a phone call saying she was in a car accident—” you can feel Keira hugging you tighter. Or maybe it’s you who did, you don’t know anymore.

“I got here as soon as I could. She was already in the operating room when I got here, and uhm, she has injuries to her head and chest. I overheard them saying that she was bleeding from her chest when they brought her in. And I had to go earlier because the doctors went out. They said they had to stop the surgery because they said she needs time to recuperate or something, I don’t remember. I don’t really want to know the specifics. I just understood that they stopped the surgery in order to prevent her from bleeding to death on the operating table—”

You grimace and take a sharp intake of breath. It’s getting harder to listen to what Keira is saying.

And it seems like Keira understands how overwhelmed you are because she loosens her grip on you and steps back. “Sorry. That was too blunt,” she wipes away her tears and looks at you apologetically. “I also didn’t mean to bombard you with everything. I know it must be hard hearing all this.”

“It’s okay,” your voice is barely a whisper. You’re afraid you’ll burst into tears. “I need to know.”

Keira takes a deep breath before continuing. “They’re keeping her in the ICU for 24 hours. If she lives—if she’s stable enough, basically, they’ll operate on her again.”

“If she lives?”

Keira merely shrugs in response and you feel your eyes brimming with hot tears. You can’t lose Leah. Not like this.

“Can I—” you clear your throat. “Can I see her?”

“You can, but just… Brace yourself, I guess. She’s connected to a bunch of machines, and she has a ventilator on to help her breathe. It’s not a pretty sight.”

You nod slowly, trying to understand the severity of it all. “I just want to hold her hand. I can do that, right?”

“Yeah, you can,” Keira flashes you a smile. You can see the tears welling in her eyes. “Hold her hand as tight as you can, will you? Maybe she’ll come back to you.”

You blink away your own tears at that. How you wish that’s possible.

With one last look at Keira, you push the doors open.

The first thing you take a note of is, apart from the beeping and the hum of the machines, it’s eerily quiet. You walk slowly, not daring to lift your head up. Maybe you shouldn’t be here. Even Keira waited outside, that must be an indicator of how horrible being in this room must be.

But you decide that you should stop being a coward. Leah needs you. You aren’t going to run away again. So stopping at the foot of the hospital bed, you slowly lift your head up.

It doesn’t sink in at first. The figure on the bed looks so much like Leah, but she also doesn’t. You almost don’t recognize her with the tubes connected to her body and the bandages on her head. There were cuts as well as patches of purple and blue bruises all over her pale skin. One particular cut stood out, it’s on her left cheekbone and you’re sure Leah will complain about it if she’s awake.

You understand why Keira seems like she doesn’t want to step in the room.

You make your way to the side of the bed. You sit down on the chair and for a few seconds, you stay still. Everything is finally sinking in.

Leah is here in front of you, but at the same time, she’s not.

Leah is dying and you can’t do anything but sit next to her and hold her hand and wish that she will wake up. You try your best to ingrain to your memory what it feels like to have Leah’s hand in your grip.

And finally, a tear escapes your eyes. You blame it on the fact that Leah would always squeeze your hand back but this time it stays there, limpless.

“I know we just saw each other yesterday, but I miss you,” you chuckle through your tears that are now freely flowing down your cheeks. “I miss you, and your damn smile, and your stupid sarcastic remarks.”

You grip Leah’s hand tighter.

“You’ll come back to me right, Leah? You have to.” you hope Leah is able to hear you. “I have so many stories to tell you, yesterday wasn’t enough for me. Did you know that I went back to London a few months ago? I didn’t tell you, obviously. We hadn’t talked in so long.

“Beth told me that you were scheduled to have a Ted Talk. You were brilliant. I mean, I’ve always known that, but seeing you up there in front of thousands of people… you were so eloquent and so damn brilliant. I could tell that your smile wasn’t as bright as before though. I blamed myself for taking your happiness away from you.”

You keep your gaze on the blonde’s face. Despite everything, Leah is still the most gorgeous person you have ever seen. “I’ll do anything to get you smiling again, you know that right? I’ll do anything, Lee, even if it means switching places with you. I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

—

two years ago

“y/n!” Leah shouted, not caring about all the heads that turned in her direction.

You stood still. From across the street, Leah could see you wiping away the tears that were flowing down your face. Leah wanted nothing more than to be the one doing that, to hug you close and tell you that everything will be okay.

But the moment Leah stepped forward, you quickly turned around to make your way back inside the building.

“y/n!” Leah shouted once more, though this time it sounded more like a plea.

Leah stepped into the street, but she had to immediately step back because of the cars that rushed by her. Her eyes darted around until they landed on the intersection and she ran towards it.

Leah repeatedly pushed the button on the traffic light pole, hoping it will allow her to cross faster, all the while keeping her eyes on the spot where you stood earlier.

At the back of her mind, she knew that she was too late. She knew you were already inside your friend’s apartment, somewhere Leah couldn’t get into because she didn’t have the access keys. But Leah wasn’t the type to give up that easily, so she had to try to do something.

Once the light changed and the cars stopped moving, Leah sprinted across the street, bumping into people and muttering rushed apologies.

She arrived at where you stood. She tried to catch her breath as she stared into the doors of the building that was tightly closed. From the window on the door, she could see mailboxes and an elevator that would take her to where you were.

But Leah couldn’t do anything but stand there helplessly. It killed her and she didn’t know that it could hurt this much to know that she was too late. She knew you wouldn’t want to see her anymore—you made that clear enough when you told her you were leaving the country to play football in Paris. You made it clear that you wanted to start fresh and that meant leaving Leah behind.

Leah placed her forehead on the door, letting out a heavy sigh and tried her best to not let anymore tears fall.

“y/n…” she muttered. “Why?” Leah knew you couldn’t hear her but she couldn’t help it; she let out everything she was feeling, including the tears that she tried so hard to suppress. “I love you. I’ll give up anything for you. Isn’t that enough?”

Leah wiped away her tears and walked away from the doors. She took a deep breath. She had to calm down, she had to if she wanted to think of ways to get you back.

But with every thought of you and every flash of your smile and your eyes and your laugh in her mind, Leah’s breath started getting heavier and heavier until she couldn’t handle it anymore and she let out a scream.

“Why?!” Leah looked up at the building. She screamed as loud as she could, hoping that you could hear her. “I hate you, y/n! I fucking hate you!”

Leah sobbed, clutching her chest. It hurt. It felt like there was a knife through her heart and that no matter how hard she tried, she wasn’t able to pull it out.

“I hate you… I hate you. I hate you.” Leah dropped to her knees, unable to stop crying. She knew no matter how much she said it, she would never mean those words.

Leah contemplated sitting there, in front of the apartment doors, waiting for you, because you had to come out sooner or later. But she decided against it. She already looked pathetic enough, and she wasn’t going to wait until someone finally recognized her and took pictures of her in her most pitiful state.

She was Leah Williamson and Leah Williamson didn’t cry on the side of the street, hair in a mess, eyes all puffy.

So Leah stood up and swallowed all her tears instead of letting them fall freely.

Leah was good at everything, she captained her country to the Euros championship, for fuck’s sake. Leah knew all the right things to say and she knew what shouldn’t be said out loud. Leah knew a lot of things and she had everything one would want in life.

She had the perfect house growing up. She had the best family, the perfect support system. And with her newfound fame, anything she wanted, she’d get and anything she got bored of, she could just throw without a second thought. There wasn’t anything she couldn’t have.

But walking back to her car that day, Leah felt like knowing the answers to everything and being able to have anything she wanted was useless. All the fame and fortune couldn’t get you back into her arms.

—

“Hey, have you eaten?”

Your head shoots up at the voice. You don’t realize you’ve fallen asleep.

“Yeah,” you reply, voice groggy from sleep. “I went to the cafeteria an hour ago.”

Keira smiles at you. You notice how she keeps on averting her eyes away from the hospital bed.

“Georgia’s here,” Keira informs you. “She was so confident about wanting to see Leah but I think the reality finally caught up to her.”

You lift an eyebrow in question.

“She’s outside, too scared of setting foot in the ICU,” Keira elaborates.

“You seem to be scared too earlier.”

“Yeah,” Keira trails off, standing next to you. Her eyes still aren’t landing on Leah’s figure. “I just feel so helpless. I hate feeling helpless.”

“Me too,” you sigh. “I’d like to think that me being here helps though.”

Keira hums. “I bet she appreciates it. She never would admit it, but she missed you a lot.”

“I missed her too.”

“Are you staying here tonight?” Keira asks.

“If that’s okay with you.”

“Of course,” Keira nods. You see the pain in her face when she finally does look at Leah. “I can’t stay in this room for too long. It feels suffocating. I don’t know how you do it.”

You shrug. “I want to spend every second with her. It does feel suffocating but it’s better than not being with her at all.”

Keira places a hand on your shoulder and gives it a squeeze. “Thank you. I’m sorry I can’t be here accompanying her too. I feel like I’m such a bad friend.”

“You’re not,” you immediately shake your head, your hand going to touch Keira’s. “Leah would understand.”

Keira’s eyes are shining with unshed tears, the sight amplifies the pain in your chest.

“I better go check on G.”

“Is she okay?”

Keira gives a small laugh. “She’s okay, just scared. Who isn’t though?”

“Yeah, I get it. It’s crazy to think that we might lose her,” your voice cracking as you voice your biggest fear out loud. “Do you… do you think she’ll make it?”

Keira stays quiet. You don’t think she’s going to answer until she lets out the biggest sigh. “I’d like to think so.”

“But?”

“Hm?”

“I just feel like there’s a ‘but’ somewhere in your sentence.”

Keira doesn’t answer this time, instead she averts her gaze away. You see her trying not to cry and you feel bad for bringing the topic up.

After a beat, you feel Keira squeeze your shoulder one more time before walking towards the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Once the door closes, you look back at Leah. “Are you ready for tomorrow, Lee?” You lean forward and brush strands of blonde hair away from Leah’s face. “You’re going to be strong for me, aren’t you?”

You take Leah’s limp hand in yours and kiss the back of it softly. “Maybe I should ask the nurses where I’ll be sleeping tonight. Although, I think I’m good here too. It’s just a bit cold. I’m sure you’re loving it though. Your apartment always felt like the north pole.”

Beep. Beep. Beep.

“Anyway, I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah? When you wake up… I’ll go wherever you go. I’d move back to London. We can travel the world together, just us two. How does that sound?”

Although there’s no answer and all you can hear is the beeping sound of the heart monitor, you feel hope blooming in your chest.

“We can go to Nashville, see that country music festival you’ve always wanted to go to. Even though you know how much I dislike country music, I’d suffer through it for you. Or… we can just stay at your apartment, here in London. I missed that place. We had so many good memories there. God, I’m so talkative today. Are you tired of hearing me speak? Maybe I should let you get some rest.”

You feel your heart getting lighter. You’re actually optimistic about things. It feels good to have hope.

“Goodnight, my Leah. I love you. I’ll see you real soon.”

—

three years ago

“Have you ever thought about what you would name your child?”

You looked away from the TV and to the blonde next to you. “That’s a random question.”

Leah shrugged, her hands finding yours, your intertwined hands resting between you on the sofa. “I’m just wondering. I think I want to name them after me.”

“Narcissistic much?” you teased, causing Leah to flick your forehead.

“Or Amanda,” Leah continued. “After mum.”

“Amanda is nice,” you nodded your head in thought. “I think I’d like to name mine Lily.”

“You’re naming your child after your cat?”

“After the flower, dummy,” you rolled your eyes. “You know they’re my favourite flowers.”

“What if you have a son instead of a daughter? Will you name it Streaky?”

You let go of Leah’s hand and gave the blonde’s shoulder a weak shove. “You’re making fun of me.”

“I’m not!” you heard Leah’s soft laughs, and the next thing you knew Leah was scooting closer, placing her arms around you. You felt a kiss on the side of your head and you immediately sighed in content.

“Streaky is cute though,” you pretended to be in thought, not really thinking of naming your son after your second cat.

“We are not naming our son Streaky,” Leah argued. “I was only joking!”

You raised an eyebrow at that. “Our son?”

“Mhmm.”

You looked at Leah. She had her attention back to the TV, some Netflix show was on, you couldn’t remember what you were watching anymore.

“Do you think our children will look like us?”

“Can we back up a second, babe,” you laughed. Your heart was doing somersaults. You two had never talked about kids before. “Our children?”

You saw the smirk on Leah’s face as she turned back to you. “Well we are together, aren’t we? Are you thinking of having children with other people, darling? I’m hurt.”

You shook your head at her ridiculousness. Ridiculous that she was able to talk about a serious topic with such ease and so full of confidence as if having children with you was something that was definitely going to happen.

You fell more in love with her if that was even possible. “I love you, Lee.”

“Amanda and Lily are cute names, aren’t they?”

“I just know they’re going to be stubborn and cocky, with egos as high as the Eiffel Tower. Just like their mother.”

Leah pulled away from the hug, her brows knitted. “Excuse me?”

“I’m kidding,” you grinned at the blonde before peppering kisses all over her face. “Even if I wasn’t, I would still love those parts of you.”

“Whatever.” Leah was trying her best to look annoyed but you could see the small smile on her lips.

“Are you getting tired of me already?” you pouted.

Leah immediately dropped her act and kissed away your pout. “No. Never.”

“Even if I just called you stubborn and cocky?”

“Yes,” Leah rolled her eyes. “As long as you don’t mind that about me.”

“I find it kinda hot actually.”

Leah pinched your nose at your statement, causing you to laugh. “What? I’m just telling the truth.”

Leah shook her head fondly at you. “I bet Amanda and Lily will have a thousand guys or girls lining up after them if they take after their mother’s flirting skills.”

“Oh, thank you,” you beamed at Leah. “I do have excellent flirting skills.”

“I was talking about me actually. Did you forget who made you blush 24/7?”

“Wipe that smug grin off your face, Williamsom.”

Leah hummed, placing a chaste kiss on your lips. “I’m so in love with you, y/n l/n.”

You couldn’t help the smile on your lips as you melted into the kiss and into Leah’s embrace. “Me too.”

“I can’t wait to meet Amanda and Lily Cathrine.”

You laughed at that. “Cathrine? We are not naming our daughter after you.”

“Pleaseee?”

You sighed, never able to say no when Leah gave you her puppy dog eyes. “Then it’s fair if Amanda has my middle name.”

Leah grinned at you. “You got yourself a deal, my love.”

—

Hour 1

You don’t notice when Keira and Georgia arrive. They are sitting next to you in the waiting room, you’re sure they’ve said something to you, but for now, you don't feel like talking to anyone.

You just need some time to regroup, to convince yourself that Leah will be fine and that the worry in your heart should calm down.

You will talk to Keira and Georgia later, you make a promise to yourself that you will.

Just not right now.

(Right now, you’re afraid that you’re actually going to lose Leah.)

Hour 2

“Georgia, stop fidgeting.”

“How can I? When we don’t know if she’ll make it.”

“Don’t say that. She will. Weren’t you the one who said that she’s strong? Of course she’ll make it.”

“She is. She’s strong. I’m just… I’m scared, Kei.”

“Yeah, well, so am I.”

Hour 4

“What’s taking them so long?”

“It’s only been 3 hours.”

You look up at the restless blonde. Georgia has been walking back and forth for the past hour, while Keira is sitting next to you, her knees bouncing up and down.

You haven’t uttered a single thing. The whole time you have just been watching them silently.

It’s sad, you think. They are so used to being a trio that without Leah, it all feels incomplete.

Georgia would say a thousand words per minute about what might happen and Keira would reassure her that everything would be fine. Then within the same hour, it would be Keira who was stressing out over Leah and Georgia was there to calm her down.

It’s another sad thing, you think. Despite it all, they have each other to lean on. You have no one.

The only person you wanted is lying in an operating bed as doctors try to keep her alive.

Hour 6

Returning from the bathroom, you see two men in scrubs having a conversation with Keira and Georgia.

“We’ve done everything we can,” you can hear one of them say. “Now we just have to wait for her to wake up.”

“When will she wake up?” It’s Georgia who asks.

You’re now standing next to her, your thoughts running everywhere now that you know the surgery is over.

“We cannot say,” the other doctor answers. “She’ll wake up when she’s ready.”

You tune out everything after that. You can faintly hear Keira asking more detailed questions about the recovery period, but how could you think about the recovery when Leah hasn’t even woken up? Who knows if she will even wake up.

At that thought, you immediately snap your head towards the two doctors and ask something that you aren’t sure you want the answer to. “Is there a possibility that she won’t ever wake up?”

It’s a long ten seconds before you have your answer.

You feel like you shouldn’t have asked.

“I’m afraid that the possibility is always there.”

Hour 7

There isn’t a lot of difference with Leah’s appearance since the last time you saw her this morning. Still beautiful, you’d argue. But aside from that, everything is still the same—Leah still has that cut on her left cheekbone, she still has that bandage on her head and her hand is still not squeezing your hand back.

The room is still cold and the sound of the machines is still the one accompanying you instead of Leah’s laughs.

“Since you just got out of surgery,” you speak, already used to not getting a reply. “You probably still want to rest some more, huh? You did a good job back there, love, you deserve to rest. But not for too long, okay? I’d miss you too much.

“I’ll be here when you wake up, Leah. Then you can tell me what you’ve been dreaming of all this time. I hope it’s nice, wherever you are.”

“Please wake up.”

Hour 10

“You can wake up anytime soon, Lee. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. I’ll follow you wherever you go, so you don’t have to be afraid of losing me anymore. As long as I have a say in it, you won’t lose me.”

Hour 12

“You should go home, mate,” Georgia says, her voice etched with worry. “Get freshen up.”

“Yeah,” Keira agrees. “We’ll stay here with her.”

“I’m good.”

You give them a tight-lipped smile and focus your attention back to Leah. There is no way that you’re leaving her.

“I’ll go with you,” Georgia offers. “Your place is near, right? It’ll be quick, it won’t even be an hour.”

“No thanks. I’m good right here.”

Hour 14

It seems like Georgia and Keira have very good persuading skills because the next thing you know, you’ve relented to go home—just to quickly shower and get a set of fresh clothes since you’re not sure how long you’re going to stay at the hospital.

You’re back at the hospital exactly half an hour later, your backpack over your shoulders and a fresh bouquet of roses in one hand.

You smile at the flowers you’re holding. You’re sure Leah will love it.

“Where’s Georgia?” you ask upon entering the room and seeing that Keira is alone.

You set your bag down and place the flowers on the table next to Leah. You bend down and place a kiss on Leah’s forehead.

“She went to get some food at the cafeteria,” Keira answers. “You should get something to eat too.”

You’re about to argue and say that you’re not hungry when your stomach betrays you and lets out a growl.

Keira laughs at you and you only smile sheepishly before stepping out of the room.

It’s easy to spot Georgia. She’s the only person who took up a table for six people all to herself.

“Hey,” you sit down in front of her. “What are you eating?”

“I have no idea..”

You give her a chuckle. “You don’t know what you ordered?”

Georgia shrugs, shoving her plate of food towards you. “It’s good though. We can share.”

You two eat in silence before a thought pops into your head and you look at her questioningly. “By the way, where is Amanda? Does she know what’s happened to Leah?”

“Yeah,” Georgia answers, mouth full of food. “She was visiting Jacob in Australia. They’re on the flight here.”

You hesitate for a few seconds before you decide to ask what’s on your mind. “Does Amanda hate me?”

Georgia raises her eyebrows at that. “You did break her daughter’s heart, mate.”

“I know,” you sigh. The answer is obvious but it still manages to leave an ache in your chest. Amanda was once the closest thing you had to a mother. “I hope she doesn’t hate me too much.”

You hope Leah will wake up so you can make up for everything you did wrong.

Hour 17

Leah still hasn’t woken up.

You would be lying if you say you aren’t losing hope.

Hour 20

“Is it naive of me to still have this hope in my chest when hours had passed and there are still no signs of you waking up? I’m not stupid for waiting, right Lee? You know that I’ll wait for you forever, but please don’t take too long. It’ll hurt too much.”

Hour 23

Georgia and Keira decide to go home and promise to return in a few hours.

You don’t mind being alone with Leah—you would take any chance to be with her. But the silence is getting too loud and you feel like screaming.

Because why is Leah still unconscious? It has almost been a day, it doesn’t make sense to you that she isn’t awake yet.

Your head is throbbing. You can’t get an inch of sleep. How can you when the love of your life isn't waking up?

“The sun is shining so brightly, I wish you could see this. It’s nice and warm. Wake up, love.”

Hour 25

You don’t want to cry. You’re afraid that crying means you’re giving up on Leah and you will never do that.

Leah is going to be alright so there is no need for you to be sad and cry.

But Leah is still lying there unconscious and all the scenarios of her not waking up came rushing in, and it becomes really hard for you to hold in your cry.

So you let out a sob. It’s quiet at first. But the pain in your chest keeps on multiplying as each second passes and the thought of having to live without Leah’s smile is getting more and more vivid.

“Leah… I’m begging you. I’ll do anything. Why won’t you wake up? Is it better over there? That’s why you don’t want to come back here? To come back to me?”

It hurts. Everything hurts. You don’t want anything else, you just want your Leah back.

“I love you,” your vision is blurry with tears. Your cry is getting louder and louder but you don’t care. You wish it’s loud enough to wake Leah up. “I love you. Isn’t that enough? Please wake up. Lee… Why won’t you fucking wake up?”

Then it happens. It’s a whisper you would miss if your crying hasn’t stopped.

“Why… are you crying?”

You turn to the source of the voice.

“Leah?”

“I love… you too. Stop… crying.”

And you can’t describe what you’re feeling when you finally feel Leah squeeze your hand again.

(You can’t stop crying, even when Georgia and Keira finally return to find their best friend awake.

You can’t stop crying because you don’t want to go through this again and the thought of it being over is filling your body with relief and you don't know what to do but to cry.

Most of all, you can’t stop crying because Leah’s smile is the most precious thing in the world and you’re glad that you’re ble to see it again.)

—

a few days ago

You greeted Leah with a shy “hello” and a tiny wave. You still couldn’t believe that Leah actually agreed to meet up with you—a part of you still felt that you didn’t deserve this chance.

“So where are we going?” Leah spoke in an indifferent manner, which you expected. It would take some time to knock her walls back down but you were willing to be patient, however long it would take.

“The arcade,” you answered, gesturing for Leah to follow you.

Leah looked confused. “The arcade?”

(You started to walk side by side and you almost forgot that you weren't supposed to reach out and intertwine your hands).

“Yeah,” you smiled at her. You hoped Leah couldn’t tell how nervous you were. “We never ended up going,” you saw Leah’s features relaxed slightly as she realized what you meant. “You remember right? That time when I went to the arcade with Guro and you got jealous.”

Leah rolled her eyes, the scowl on her face made you smile wider. “I wasn’t jealous.”

“Sure you weren’t.”

“Do they have food at the arcade?”

You gave a small laugh at the change in subject. Leah always turned moody everytime you brought up your friendship with the Chelsea player. Mostly because she didn’t like that you were fraternizing with the enemy—her words. You loved provoking her every time.

“Yes, they do have some plain toast with butter for you. I checked.”

“I’m just hungry,” Leah replied back, her tone annoyed. “I haven’t had breakfast.”

“They have food,” you reassured her. “And tea.”

“Cool.”

Despite the short responses, Leah’s voice didn’t hold as much bitterness as you were expecting and you were grateful for that.

You walked in silence, you came up with some jokes every now and then, trying to get more smiles out of the blonde.

It wasn’t until your tenth attempt that Leah let out a short laugh.

You wore a proud smile the rest of the way.

—

“You know, you haven’t apologized for stealing my breakfast.”

Leah stopped walking and stared at you confused. “What?”

“When we first met,” you clarified. “You stole my breakfast.”

“I didn’t do such thing.” Leah rolled her eyes.

“You did.”

“Well, I don’t exactly remember something that happened decades ago now do I?” Leah scowled at you, forever annoyed whenever you brought it up. You continued walking side by side, no particular direction in mind. “But I always let you take my breakfast!”

“But I never really did fancy your plain food, Lee,” you smiled fondly at the memory. “Anyway, back to what I was saying, you haven’t apologized.”

“Even though I didn’t do anything wrong, I apologized to you every time you brought up this argument just to annoy me.”

“You didn’t.”

“Mate, I did.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Whatever! I always let you take my breakfast! Which went on for years, if I may add.”

“So?” Leah rolled her eyes again and you laughed. “Your eyes will fall off if you keep on rolling them at me.”

“It’s because you’re annoying.”

“But you’re smiling so I must be doing something right.”

It was funny how Leah immediately dropped her smile. “I wasn’t smiling.”

“You were.”

“No. Just spasms.”

You chuckled at Leah’s response. After hours spent at the arcade, you felt that Leah had started to loosen up. You could see it with the way Leah wasn’t acting like standing next to you was the worst thing in the world anymore. Leah started to talk more too, you didn’t have to start the conversation to get the blonde to say something, and you were glad because you really wanted to hear Leah speak—you badly missed the sound of her voice.

“Where are we going next?”

You tilted your head in thought. You didn’t know—your plan had only consisted of going to the arcade. You figured Leah would get tired of you by then and you would just head back, but Leah was still here, not looking like she wanted to leave.

You racked your brain of where you could take her next and when a thought came up you grinned. “I know a place.”

“What is it?”

“You’ll see.”

“Why don’t you just tell me?” Leah sounded impatient.

“You’re no fun,” you pouted. “The place reminds me of you, that’s all I’m saying.”

—

“Why does a florist remind you of me?”

“Because you smelled like roses,” you answered, picking up a single red rose. “You still do.”

“That’s ridiculous. I do not.”

You grinned up at her. “I was trying to be romantic.”

Leah scoffed, looking away. You smiled to yourself when you could see the faint blush on Leah’s cheeks.

“Flowers are very symbolic,” you continued. “You can express a lot of things with them. Sometimes you don’t even have to say anything because the flowers can speak for you. I think that’s amazing.” You looked at the colorful display of flowers in front of you. “This place reminds me of you because every time I come here, I think of everything I wanted to say to you but couldn’t.”

You could feel Leah’s gaze on you so you looked back and met Leah’s eyes. “Stop looking at me and look at the flowers. They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”

“Yeah.” Leah still hadn’t looked away so you were the first to break your eye contact. Leah’s gaze made you nervous.

“These are white tulips,” you pointed at the white flowers in a clear vase. “They can be used to seek forgiveness. I think about you a lot whenever I see one. These too,” you walked across the store to where a bouquet of purple flowers lay. “Purple hyacinth… ‘I’m sorry’, ‘please forgive me’...” you trailed off.

After a beat, you turned to Leah who was still staring at you intently.

“I’ve always thought of sending you some flowers, but I never had the courage to do it. I think a part of me is scared that you’ll end up throwing it away,” you took a deep breath and smiled. “I’ll do it today. I hope that’s okay with you.”

Leah didn’t reply, instead she took the single rose from your hand and brought it up to her nose, taking in its scent. “I love flowers,” she said, returning the rose to you. “And just so you know, if you did send me flowers, I don’t think I have it in me to throw them away.”

—

“Why red roses?”

“Aren’t they your favourite? I know you love white roses too, but I think the red ones are more fitting here.”

“How so?”

“Sometimes people have different interpretations of what a flower symbolizes, or their meaning might change over time… but this one stayed consistent. Everyone knows what red roses symbolize.”

“So what are you saying?”

“I’m not saying anything, Lee. I told you how symbolic flowers are, didn’t I? I’ll let them speak for me.”

When you saw the small smile on Leah’s lips, you knew that everything would be okay.

You couldn’t wait to spend the rest of your life making it up to her.

—

sorry for any medical inaccuracies:)

I don’t really like this but oh well, hope it’s decent enough 🫶🏼

[hipstergecko]

Waking Up.

Hey so remember that DPxDC prompt I wrote awhile back? I've been writing it! Here's a brand new chunk.

Ghost in a Box: Danny experiences extreme sensory deprivation after getting trapped in a coffin like box his parents invented. His box is opened on the JL watchtower after being found in an underground bunker. Humans can't do sensory deprivation for too long. Apparently neither can Danny.

Original Ghost in a Box prompt here.

----

Black bat was waiting. She was quite good at waiting. Sometimes on a mission you had to be patient. Still and silent. Waiting.

The boy that had come out of the box had been in the intensive care unit for days. He had been dehydrated and was terribly emaciated. He had been starving. How long had he been in the box?

They couldn’t ask him until he woke up. So she had been waiting.

Cass sighed and walked silently down the hall to the ICU. After they had gotten the boy into the medical wing, she’d gotten the whole “that was incredibly dangerous” spiel from her dad Batman. He was proud of her though. She could tell. It spoke through the lines of his shoulders and the tilt of his head. The softness of his hands. Hopefully that softness would be given to the boy from the box.

There had been multiple debriefs and meetings to discuss how to proceed with the boy. The majority of heroes were loath to continue opening boxes. What if they were full of creatures much like the boy? Capable of so much damage and danger. They didn’t even know what he was.

The documents they had uncovered called the boy a ghost. But after checking his vital signs, they found he had a pulse. He had a heart, breath, and blood. He was human.

But he was in the box. So he wasn’t. The members of Justice league dark had been contacted and were due to arrive any day now. They had been on assignment somewhere else. Cass hadn’t bothered to find out where they’d been.

None of that mattered anyway.

What had mattered, truly, was that the boy from the box was afraid. Afraid and unable to communicate. And Cass understood him. He was terrified and desperate. And Cass saw him beyond the horrors.

He was a child and he needed help.

So he was hers now. No matter what anyone else said. She reached out to him first and he was her new brother/son/child. Bruce would have to deal with it.

She had stayed on the watchtower, with Bruce’s blessing, since the box had been opened. She barely left the boy’s side much to Bruce’s chagrin. He was not pleased with the possibility of her being in danger. But Tim had pointed out that she was plenty dangerous herself.

She loved her brothers.

She stayed on the watchtower all the time now. Staying with the boy and only leaving the observation room to shower and eat on her own. The doctors had insisted, gently, that she should take some time to herself after those first few days. So she does. Today she took a hot shower and attended a few meetings to keep up as to what they planned to do with her new brother. She also got to spend some time with Spoiler who had just so happened to be on the watchtower that day (she sent a thank you message to Tim over the family chat).

She looked through the observational window, a frown hidden behind her mask. The boy was hooked up to various machines to monitor his vitals. His eyes were still covered and the headphones were still firmly on his head. He looked so small and frail against the bed linens. There wasn’t much more they could do until the JLD members arrived.

The doctors inside the room were gently cleaning the boy. Running a warm soft wipe down his arms and legs, checking his vital signs, laying a warm blanket over him for comfort. She watched impassively at first, then with intense interest as some of the monitors showed brain activity.

Signs of waking. Her new brother was waking up.

She was the first one in the room when the boy jerked awake with a gasp.

---------

Consciousness.

Discomfort.

Gravity.

The air tastes funny. His arm itches. His legs feel heavy.

Weird.

Danny floated on the edge of wakefulness. Or at least what he thought was consciousness. It was hard to tell anymore. Everything was a cycle of dreaming and waking, or was it dreaming and dreaming? It was hard to find reality. Nothing changed except the hallucinations his mind conjured. And even his mind had started to get things wrong.

He couldn’t trust his memories anymore. He couldn’t remember what life was like. If he saw his mother in the box with him, he couldn’t make out the details of her face. Or His father’s laugh. Or his sister’s hair. Everything was fuzzy. Distant. Faded from his memories.

Did he even have a family? Was that something he made up?

He couldn’t remember.

How long had he been in here? He’d stopped counting the days when his eyes ceased to glow. Recycled ectoplasm was good at sustaining a ghost, but not good at feeding a ghost. And him being only a few years dead, he was still developing powers. Well he would be if he wasn’t essentially being purposefully stunted in this stupid box.

What a stupid box. Can’t even sit up in it. It was more like a coffin than a box. It would figure that he finally got put in a coffin. Specially since he died all the way but not quite once already. How lame. Someone somewhere was probably laughing about this.

What was he thinking about? Oh yeah. His eyes stopped glowing. Made it harder to see what was real. He couldn’t see the shadows of his real hands and the lack of them on the images his mind conjured. It was hard to tell the difference. If he could even tell the difference anymore.

He probably couldn’t tell at all anymore really.

He floated beyond consciousness for a moment more, resisting the press upon his mind to wake. Better to sleep. After all, there wasn’t anyone coming to get him. The whispers were silent when he wasn’t in his mind. The voices stopped. The hands didn’t pull at his mouth and eyes. It was the only chance at peace he got.

Something touched him.

Weird.

Wait…

Something, no, someone was touching him. Moving his itchy arm. He felt hands on his legs, moving them under the heaviness.

The hands were touching him.

Danny jolted to full consciousness with a gasp. He violently jerked away from the hands and scrambled back. They’d never moved him before! They’d only tried to! He had always fought them off! They were just hallucinations!! His mind only thought he was being touched!! What happened?! How?! WHY?!

His breath came in larger gasps of air as he spiraled into panic. The hands, glowing and green, decayed and skeletal reached out of the darkness. Whispered words filled his ears, static and chiming all at once. He flailed out at them frantically, touching nothing. He whimpered. They weren’t real they weren’t real they weren’t real.

One of the hands grabbed his arm.

He cried out at the contact. The weak and raspy sound pulling painfully from this throat as he lashed out at the hand and fell back. The ectoplasm felt firm and plush beneath him.

Wait, was that really ectoplasm? Was this real?

Somehow in his retreat, he reached an edge. He slipped.

He fell.

He hit a hard surface and felt the air whoosh from his lungs. He choked on the strange air and grasped blindly around himself. There was no ectoplasm, nothing swishing around him as he moved. He struggled to breathe and reached frantically out to his sides.

There were no walls.

No walls, no ceiling, no swishing stale ectoplasm.

What…

He… he wasn’t in the box.

This couldn’t be real.

He scrambled back along what he felt was the floor until he hit something hard. A wall? He didn’t care. This wasn’t real, but it felt real enough to use as an anchor, so at the wall he stayed.

Danny grasped at his arms. Nails dug into muscle, piercing the skin and drawing ectoplasm. He felt the pain and it grounded him. He was real. He was still real. His breathing was still harsh, the panic still real. The hands still reaching for him weren’t real. The floor and wall weren’t real. He was just trapped in another hallucination.

He just needed to calm down and wait until he came out of it naturally or hurt himself into reality. Either way he would still be in the box.

Abandoned in the box.

He dragged his nails down his arms, leaving behind gashes that wept. He wasn’t concerned though. His ghost form would heal fast enough that it wouldn’t make a difference. All he needed was to stop seeing things that weren’t real. He’d shed enough tears over illusions of his friends and family. Been through enough terrors and memories to doubt his mind. He knew he was in the box. Once he found the box again he could try to go back to sleep.

He’d lost the will to do anything more what felt like a lifetime ago. All he had left to his obsession was protection. Self protection. Survival. Keep his human half alive. By staying a ghost and surviving the horrors of his mind.

It was all he had left.

He ran his hands up his arms to start tearing at his skin again and found… wetness? He hadn’t healed yet? He lifted a hand to his face and licked the wetness on his fingers.

Copper tang. The faintest taste of ectoplasm.

It tasted like… blood?

Danny’s heart stopped in his chest. Wrong. His heart stuttered in his chest and he scrabbled at his neck. He fingers found his pulse.

Oh no.

He had a pulse. He was human again!

The darkness surrounding him was suddenly suffocating, pulling at his breath and stealing his rational thought. He was real, but he was going to die. Humans can’t survive as long as he had without food and water and air! He couldn’t keep control of his ghost form and his human half was going to die! He had to change back or he would fail at doing the only thing he had left!!

He started hyperventilating and desperately grabbed at his ghost core. An immediate searing pain shot through his chest. The sound he made was akin to someone tearing paper and he fell over on his side. He began trembling all over.

That hurt so bad. That hurt so bad.

He couldn’t think. He could breathe but that just brought him closer to death. Tears welled from his eyes and caught on something just beyond his eyelashes, turning the blackness somehow darker. He was going to die and the recycled ecto had failed and he was going to die and the static wouldn’t stop and the hands wouldn’t let him go and he was going to die alone and forgotten he was going to die again nopleasenopleasenotagain-

Something touched his hands.

Danny jerked back and away, nausea surging up his throat. He pushed himself up only to vomit stomach acid. The only thing in his system. It burned as it came and went. His stomach clenched so hard that he curled over on himself. His muscles shook with strain as he hyperventilated. He couldn’t get enough air. He couldn’t see. Couldn’t hear. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move…

Something touched him again. A gentle pressure on his back. Warm and soft.

He tensed beyond what he thought he was able. Rigid, but shaking in fear. He had no thoughts beyond the sheer terror of what he thought was unreality becoming reality.

Moments passed. And nothing happened.

The pressure on his back stayed. It did not grasp at him like the hands did. It remained gentle and soft. A warmth. It was different. It was scary.

It felt nice.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Danny’s breathing calmed. Slowly, he felt things around him. He felt the blood trickling down his arms. The cold floor under his legs. The soft, long shirt on his body didn’t close in the back or reach down past his knees. He was warmer than the floor which was strange, but made sense. He was human again. He couldn’t even remember the last time he turned back human. It was his greatest fear. To turn human in the box and die alone and small in the dark enclosed space.

But he wasn’t dying. He was breathing. The air was fresh. It tasted strange. His hands fluttered along the wounds on his arms. He felt pain and knew it was real. And the pressure on his back felt real.

Did… did someone open the box?

Hope hit him so hard that he began to cry softly. He couldn’t let himself hope, but he couldn’t deny it. Not when this all seemed so real. His crying grew harder. Harsh stuttering breaths that he couldn’t even hear. Which was kind of odd. Why couldn’t he hear himself? Did he still have ears? He slowly reached up and felt where his ears should be. There was something covering them. A hard plastic thing that went up over his head. Slowly his hands moved in front of his face. He found his nose and his mouth. They were still there. Then he touched the places where his eyes should be. He felt cloth.

His eyes and ears were covered?

Another hand touched his own and he jolted. It was as gentle and warm as the other hand. He could finally hear his ragged cries as the hand took his gently and intertwined the fingers. A gentle squeeze had the tears coming hard and fast. From fear or hope? There was no telling. A sheer outpouring of emotion.

Someone had opened the box.

And they were holding his hand.

He desperately hoped this was real.

----------

That's it for now! Honestly I'm just writing snippets of story beats and then stringing them together when the anxiety has quieted. I have an AO3 account now, but I'm still posting everything here first!

Nyeeeh keep an eye out for more I guess.

[httpsserene]

𝐡𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐟𝟏 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥

𝘂𝗽𝗹𝗼𝗮𝗱 𝟱: 𝗹𝗲𝘄𝗶𝘀 𝗵𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗹𝘁𝗼𝗻 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 | 𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝗲𝘅 & 𝗰𝗼𝗰𝗸𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗴

📖𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: your husband comes home to his monaco apartment after achieving p2 in spain. from the texts you sent him before he boarded his flight, he expected you to be awake when he arrived. however, you’ve fallen asleep–but that’s not a problem. he’ll sneak into bed right next to you and catch a few extra hours of sleep. you’ll commemorate the podium come morning. 📖𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ only. explicit. vaginal sex. lingerie. marriage. unsafe sex. no pull-out. tender sex. slow and sensual. cockwarming. intimacy. no beta we get disqualified like lewis and charles. not dirty? husband/wife kink (if that’s a thing). more soft. sickeningly sweet (ig). 📖𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 1k words. 📖𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: lewis hamilton x fem!black!reader 📖𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: oneshot. 📖𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸: icu • coco jones

𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: needed something to soothe the soul after the austin gp disqualifications. this is at the same time the least kinky thing i’ve written so far and the most kinky thing ever. because love feels filthier to write, idk if that makes sense. it’s on the shorter side because i ditched the preamble in order to finish this in time lol, but i dedicate this to my twin @saintwrld :) (it reminds me of her renaissance series :p y'all should check it out @saintslewis) and i hope everyone enjoys it !!!!

do you want to be added to my general taglist? or my f1 kinktober taglist? send me an ask!

cross-posted on my ao3, htppsss

to see what kinktober uploads have already been completed or to see what's coming next check my f1 kinktober masterlist ! for all of my works see my general masterlist!

lewis sighs tiredly as he lies down in bed next to you. the mercedes driver turns on his side facing you, and laughs quietly. your bonnet, of course, has grown a pair of legs and climbed its way off your head and is sleeping on the pillow next to you—your braids fanned out on the pillow underneath you unprotected. lewis carefully wrangles the bonnet back on you and smiles adoringly when he notices that you're wearing the matching bonnet he got you almost nine years ago. and to feel how the matching bonnets makes his heart stutter after spending a decade of his life with you, two of those years being married; he knows being married to you is one of the best decisions he’s ever made. 

he tugs you, his wife, closer; cooing out loud when he notices that you’re clad in one of his tommy hilfiger hoodies, tucking your head under his chin, arms wrapping around you tightly, and legs intertwining comfortably. you hum against his chest, nuzzling deeper into his bare skin, and a faint smile lingers on your lips, and unconscious reaction to having your husband home again. lewis throws his head back groaning, he can’t wake you up now. you had spammed his phone with texts before his flight, promising that he’d get a “surprise” when he got home, for doing so well this weekend—and he doesn’t have the heart to wake you up just so he can fuck you. well, he thinks, he can just get a couple hours of sleep in and then he’ll wake you up and enjoy whatever gift you’ve decided to bless him with and he drifts into sleep.

when lewis wakes up again, the first thing he notices is that he’s slept for way more than a couple hours. the noon sun has brightened the room immensely, and he’s shocked that he managed to stay asleep for so long with how the sun is shining directly on his face. he shifts onto his back, groaning at the soreness left from racing, and glances down at you to see if your still sleeping, and chokes on his breath. his hoodie is rucked up your waist from sleep, exposing your black lace panties, and when he shifts to get a better view of your ass, his body jostles yours and reveals the silver shift of glitter in the fabric. 

“fuck,” lewis murmurs, he’s always been weak for you dressing in his team colors. one of his tattooed hands takes a generous squeeze of your ass, and he wonders if you're wearing the matching top. his grip on your ass may have become a smidge too tight at that thought, because you softly gasp awake. lewis watches as you squirm against him softly, face twisted in confusion, before you make eye contact with him, and you relax. 

you smile sweetly, your left hand rising to rest on his cheek, “welcome home, champ.” lewis laughs at your half-asleep tone, nuzzling his face into your hand, before turning to press a kiss at the ring he put on your finger. “it was only a second-place finisher, love. no need to call me ‘champ.’”

frowning at him, you scoff, “you are still a seven-time world champion, are you not?” lewis concedes to your point; he’s not interested in being scolded by you today—he’s more concerned with unwrapping the present you got him. he hums and noses at your chin before he captures your lips in a dizzying kiss. your lips are languid against each other, there’s no rush in rediscovering the crevices within your mouths. lewis ignores how your teeth tug at his bottom lip, urging him to speed up—he only deepens the kiss, not quickening his pace, coercing you to melt under his passion. 

he pulls away, enjoying how your gaze has transformed from sleep-hazy to lust-hazy. “mmm, is my ‘surprise’ the panties and matching bra you have under my hoodie?” lewis asks you. you nod your head gently, scooting back and pulling the hoodie up to reveal the matching silver-glitter covered black bralette. he moans at the sight of you; perky breasts and nipples hard underneath the lace, your eyes half-lidded in arousal. his hands reach out to grasp at your chest, thumbs dragging over your nipples, causing a shaky moan to fall from your lips at the friction. you reach to pull the hoodie off but lewis grunts in dissent, “nah, keep it on for me. just make sure it stays up, love.”

“ohmygod,” you giggle quietly, “you can just say you’re obsessed with fucking me in your clothes.”

lewis rolls his eyes at you, “okay: i’m obsessed with fucking you in my clothes. i love the way you smell like me after, i love the way your smell lingers when i wear them after you, i love the way you look in my clothes; if i could choose, i wish you’d only ever wear my clothes and have pretty lingerie underneath them all the time.”

you stare at him wide-eyed, not expecting him to flip your teasing words in that manner, maybe that’s why your panties suddenly feel a little wet. you bite your lip, trying to think of a way to regain the upper hand, and lewis clocks your eyes brightening.

“i fingered myself open for you last night. i’m sure you could still slip in, if you’re up for it.”

lewis chuckles, half-crazed, and murmurs, “if i’m up for it? promise me, if i ever say no to having sex with you that you’ll take me to see a doctor?”

you hum, hand shifting to rub at the nape of his neck, “i promise, baby. can you fuck me now—i fell asleep waiting for you last night.”

lewis quickly gets to work positioning your body. he spins you around to your side, your back pressed against his chest, and spreads your thighs open with his knee. you moan at his easy manhandling, and press your ass back to grind against the tent in his boxers. he encourages the movement of your hips, even directing the grind for a few beats before he halts your motions. his hand slips in between the two of you, and tugs his dick out. he pulls your panties to the side and slowly slips into you. your mouth drops open in a silent moan, overwhelmed by the stretch from his dick spreading you open. lewis sighs deeply as he bottoms out within you, and kisses you on the shoulder. he stays still, allowing you the time you need to adjust. you shift your hips gently, testing the feel, and hum in assent.

lewis moves his hand to find yours, and locks them over your navel, using them to pull you as close to his body as he can. he whispers softly, “can we take it nice and slow today? i want to make love to you today.”you hum, and it shifts to a whine as his hips gently rock into yours, and whimper out, “it’s your present—can use it however you want.” 

lewis keeps the motion of hips slow and controlled, pulling out halfway before sinking in as deep as he can reach. it’s stunning how you can feel every bit of love lewis puts into his thrusts, seeping into you. he continues to pepper kisses on your neck and shoulder, and slips his other arm underneath you, and moving your body slowly so you twist back further, exposing your chest to him again. the hoodie remains bunched under your armpits, and lewis tugs the bralette down underneath your chest, causing your breasts to spill out lewdly over the top. his hand rests over your chest, not groping in any manner, just holding you close, feeling how your heartbeat speeds up from his movements.

in the decade you’ve been in a relationship with lewis, you’ve had some life-changing sex. but, for some reason, the slow and sensual sex has to be your favorite. it feels restorative, like he’s breathing life back into your body, with every deep thrust he’s showing you how much he loves you. and he’s not afraid to say it either.

“i love you, so much—you’re so good to me—my wonderful wife—all for me—all mine—i’ll make you feel so good, love—forever, yeah—you and me, like this—i win everything for you—“

you rock back against him, always weak when he can help but run his mouth, and start rambling back to him, mouth loose from the pleasure he continues to give to you, “my oh! my husband—only you for me, yeah?” he moans into your neck, he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to you calling him your husband. 

there’s no telling how long the two of you are wrapped together, neither you are in any rush to reach a climax—you both crave the intimacy sex like this provides, especially after he’s been away. your orgasms crest over your bodies slowly but they’re more satisfying than any other release you could get from rough sex. lewis continues to grind his dick in you as deep as he can, not making any motion to pull out, and ignores the building sensitivity he’s feeling. 

lewis smiles at the blissed out look on your face, and watches how you struggle to open your eyes; he’s been fucking you back to sleep this whole time—that would explain why your rambles disappeared as you got closer to your peak. he tugs the hoodie back down over your chest, and one-handedly drags the duvet to cover your bodies, not wanting you to get cold. “hey, love,” he calls softly, “do you want me to pull out and clean you up?” you shake your head, and turn back onto your side fully, pressing you back to his chest again, and you start to doze off. lewis rubs at your waist gently, soothing you further into sleep—he’s never going to say no to having you keep his dick warm. 

lewis carefully reaches towards the nightstand and grabs his phone, and quickly sets an hour alarm. he won’t let himself be fooled by the call of sleep and let the whole day fly by, like he did last night—he’d rather not be awoken by his angry wife screaming about uti’s and whatnot. he’ll just bathe in the afterglow while you sleep soundly; he just wants to look after you a little longer.

taglist: @lorarri @soph1644 @jaydensluv @fanboyluvr@nissaimmortal @redgonerogue @hollie911 @saintwrld @buendiabebeta @butterfly-lover @lana-d3l-rey @dylan1721 @spicybagel14 @dhhdhsiavdhaj @miahgonzalez16 @jjaekin @dkbj14 @f1lover55 @f1lov3r @mindless-rock @biancathecool @barnestatic @sweetpiccolo-blog @my-ylenia @zaynzierulez @reblog-princess-blog @lovingaphroditesworld @katekipshidze @darleneslane

© httpsserene 2023

[ms-demeanor]

So Large Bastard went into the hospital for transplant evaluation on February 13th 2021 and that was one of the major peaks of covid and basically we dropped him off at the hospital and that was it; nobody was allowed to visit him or see him and they pretty much immediately implanted a pump in his shoulder that made it painful and difficult for him to use the phone. At that point the message we were getting was "either he'll qualify for a transplant and you'll see him again when he is released after the transplant (and the waitlist, and the surgery, and the recovery) or we'll allow you to visit him when he's dying OR he won't qualify for transplant and we'll provide his end of life care and we'll allow you to visit him when he's dying" and on like February 16th, before we knew if he'd qualify for a transplant, I got a call from the hospital saying they were putting him on a heart/lung bypass machine because the pump they'd implanted in his shoulder and the pump they'd implanted in his heart weren't doing enough (both are designed to pump blood through about six feet of human, not through about seven feet of human, so they needed a much larger external pump). They asked me if I approved this procedure because he was kind of out of it, and held the phone up to him so I could ask him if he wanted this and say goodbye - I didn't know if that was goodbye until he got woken up by the doctors after stabilizing, or goodbye until he got approved for a transplant, or goodbye until he didn't get approved for a transplant and they'd take him off the machine to say goodbye for real if they couldn't keep him alive any longer.

And then they hung up the phone and I sat at my desk and stared at my computer and went back to work because literally what the hell else could I do? I couldn't drive to the hospital, I couldn't anxiously wait to see if the doctor would come out and tell me the machine had stabilized him. They said they'd call me in three hours with an update. So I took some orders and placed some calls and responded very politely to emails until I got off the clock at 5:30.

I had texted one of Large Bastard's friends who I'd been calling a lot and asked if we could meet up so I could explain what was going on so he could pass that info on to their radio nerd club. We were meeting up in the parking lot of an ihop because it was an easy outdoor location to describe to him when I wasn't actually capable of processing things like "addresses" or "street names" and I drove over to the ihop and at the red light for the left turn to go into the parking lot I fucking lost it. Like. I don't do the "hysterical crying" thing often but when I do, boy do I. I was in my truck with the windows rolled up and music on and I was sobbing so hard that it shook the truck and the crying was audible from outside the car.

I know it was audible from outside the car because a homeless man came up to my window and knocked and when I rolled the window down he told me "you're okay girl, you got this, it's gonna be alright" and I kind of nodded at him and sobbed at him and waved at him as he kept crossing the street and my light changed and I turned into the parking lot.

By the time my friend got there I had calmed down and stopped crying and through the entire rest of the process I never lost it in quite the same way; they took Large Bastard off the lung bypass part of the machine a day later and he was awake when they approved him for the transplant list, and a few days after that they started allowing a single, masked, socially distanced family member to start visiting patients in the transplant ICU for two hours a day, so I was able to come see him and he immediately said "look I have abs" and pulled his gown aside to show me that he'd lost so much weight as his body tried to eat itself to stay alive that he did, in fact, have an eight pack. And we laughed about it. It was uphill from there. It was never as hard for me as it was in the few hours after that phone call.

And in those few hours there was one dude who happened to be walking by who was kind enough to try to offer comfort to a complete stranger and I think about him all the time.