#its been about an hour since it initially happened so ive calmed down a little bit but im still freaked out being alone like this

[vampirebiter]

so the property im house sitting at is like. pretty isolated and up a driveway that theres no possible way youre going to go all the way up on accident but a random unexpected car came up and didnt come back down as far as i could see so that is. very fun and not at all frightening ✌️

[blissfulsun]

could you pleasee do 70&76 with Jeff from the angst prompts? 💞

hello my darling!! I’m sorry this took a couple of days, but its lowkey my favourite thing Ive ever written???🥺 Hope u like it just as much, ily💓 I changed both the slightest to fit into the idea I had I hope u don’t mind!!

word count: 1,713

Pretty little fears // Jeff Wittek

Jeff Wittek was a name you knew all too well. Except it used to bring visions of playgrounds and games of hide & seek, later swapped in for nights of sneaking out and stolen liquor from your father's hidden cabinet. Now, the man standing across the living room resembled more of a stranger.

Yet you somehow noticed him, eyes still instantly drawn to his taller figure in any room, this one particularly overcrowded. Your attention shifts when the friends you came with suggest a move to the garden.

He's listening to Toddy's story, or rather trying to make sense of the drunken rambling when a familiar head of hair passes in the corner of his eyes. It can't be, he tries to convince himself, searching past surrouding faces netherless, hopeful of the outcome but you're already gone.

You keep missing each other like that most of the night, you intentionally and Jeff still unsure if longing for you has finally materialised into him imagining you there in person.

The two of you collide when David stumbles across your group of girlfriends and invites you guys to 'rate his hot and less hot friends for a video'. You have no reason to say no, unaware of his connection to your hometown friend, never one to care much about social media and its content.

You make eye contact the moment you pass the threshold into the kitchen where the vs is gathered, Jeff first to speak despite the initial shock. 'y/n/n?' Others quiten down around you, eager to understand the connection between the two of you.

‘Long time Wittek' he's slightly confused and hurt by the careless tone of your greeting, his own mind going a hundred miles an hour at simply having you in such close proximity again.

You're silently seething, body simultaneously hot with rage and cold with faked indifference. You remain that way as he closes the distance between you, stiff in his arms when Jeff pulls you into a tight embrace.

The two of you remain like that for a while, your body melting into his form without permission. When he pulls away eventually, it's only far enough to look down at your face and ask 'wanna head outside? We have some catchin' up to do'. You sigh and nod, all too knowing that he wouldn't really let you have the choice.

Jeff couldn't let you go now that you seemingly fell back into his life, his hands guiding you as if you were to get lost in the house you've been in for the better portion of the night, you let him have at least that.

As soon as the two of you are outside and in a less crowded area you step away, distancing yourself from him in spite of the puppy eyes he directs at you. 'Well?..' You ask, hands wrapping around your waist in an effort to appear stand offish, the effort noted but futile.

Jeff just thinks you look adorable trying to stay mad at him, the attempts always failing in the past: from the time he tripped and accidently fell into your pride and joy of a sandcastle at four to the days when he began to fall into the wrong crowd, showing up at your window past midnight, asking to stay the night in a broken voice you could never say no to.

That's what your relationship with Jeff was, you gave and gave and he took. It wasn't always the case, early formative years of your friendship spent in mutual affection. He would push, punch and kick the bullies and in return you would offer him half of your snacks.

Then it transitioned to fighting just about anyone, and for any reason, not just for you. Still, you would bandage up the cuts and bruises, gentle kisses healing his scars better than any ointment.

You were a team, is what both of you would say whenever questions arose, jealous girlfriends & boyfriends alike or your parents increasingly protective in light of his misbehaviours. Even his own mother, who really just wanted the best for him and you, unsure at one point if you could pull him back and if it was fair to put such pressure on a 17 year old girl. You couldn't, evidently.

Jeff continued to hang out with a crowd you refused to be around and then you left for college. He was upset at first, his fear of abandonment and simply missing you translating into weeks of radio silence until he showed up at your dorm, the two of you falling back into the friendship no one else could understand.

It was fine like that for a while and then he left for Miami, promising to stay safe and in touch, though less often than either of you would like. His seventh arrest was the final blow, you mostly unaware to the extent of his illegal activities and the number of times Jeff found himself behind bars. That last time was the worst, not only because he was sentenced to at least a couple of months but because his own mother finally informed you.

'Jeff? Seriously...' your anger snaps him out of reminiscing. You look far less eager to take a trip down memory lane, but if he's already taken up your time you might as well get some answers, you decide. 'Why?' you grit your teeth, continuing 'why did you abandon me?' It's a loaded question and you're terrified of it's outcome.

‘Darlin' Jeff tries, his hand reaching for your own but you stand your ground despite his softened expression. 'No. Enlighten me. How do you spend every day with someone, write and call for months and just...just lie until you had no choice but admit you were fuckin' dealing drugs Jeffrey.' You want to shout, holding back for the sake of not gathering yourself an audience.

Meanwhile he visibly flinches at the accusing tone of yours. After a couple of calming breaths you look up at his face and begin to feel small again, back to the little girl barely reaching his shoulders & always gripping at the sleeve of his jumper.

'That's not even the worst part...' your words are softer now, Jeff can't decide if that and the tears gathering in your eyes are worse than the angry dialogue. 'The worst part is that you never responded...to any of my letters. I drove hundred of miles as a broke ass student only to find out I was already written off your visitors list' you pause, looking up to the sky to gather yourself and prevent the waterworks begging to start.

He just watches you both in awe and undeniable pain, heart split between letting you go as to not relive the pain and bringing you into his arms, body aching for the familiar comfort no one else has ever been successful in replacing, not really. 'After everything we've been through?' The last question comes out broken.

'I'm sorry...' he scrambles to reword when he catches sight of the perplexed anger adorning your face. 'I...you were goin' places alright? You were always going to be someone great darlin'. I just slowed that down and then...the final arrest happened. And I...you didn't need to see me like that, behind bars. I would rather do it alone a million more times than to put you through that.'

Jeff can only hope his explanation comes across half as elegantly. It doesn't, he realises at your sudden outburst, 'That wasn't your choice to make! Fuck you.' The response draws some unwanted attention to the pair of you, his friends standing in a corner nearby and trying to work out your significance.

'Angel please...' Jeff decides to try an old method of calming you down, hand wrapping around the back of your neck under the cascading hair you let down for the night. Your mind is still focused on the erupting anger, but your body, it surrenders to the familiar hold, shoulders unwittingly losing tension and expression softening while he stares in your eyes.

'You weren't alone.' The softness with which you deliver your next response shocks you both. The thought continues at sight of his confusion, 'You didn't have to do it alone. We were a team, from the time we were barely four...' Jeff nods at that truth. 'I know...' he's not sure whether to continue, unsure if this was the right place or time but already in too deep with a single look into your glassy eyes.

‘I know but I loved you-' 'wha' your attempt at interruption and shocked expression is ignored. '-and I know you loved me too angel. That's why...I could never do that to you' The confession hangs in the air, but at least it's finally out there, Jeff thinks. Years of repressed emotions and regret spilling over in favour of gentle relief inside your childhood best friend.

You clear your throat, 'right..' the eye contact is broken as you force your body away from his hold. He's confused, heart dropping into his stomach in disappointment as you stiffly walk around him and back inside without another word.

Jeff takes the leap and catches up to you outside, short of breath from the chase. '-wait!! That's...that's it? ' he has to ask. You whip around to face him for the second time tonight.

‘Yes! That's fuckin' it you asshole. You single handedly ripped my heart out and disappeared from my life like it was the easiest thing in the world! Of course I have always loved you, you..you selfish arrogant little pri-' the rant was left unfinished, a soft pair of lips shutting you up.

Jeff had to kiss you. It's been all he's thought about since you stepped into the random kitchen a couple minutes ago, the need so intense and eerily reminscent of his teenage years and early adulthood, always left unfulfilled for your own sake.

This time...he's tired of denying himself the pleasure, years older and maybe wiser, unwilling to ever let you go again. 'm still mad at you..' you mumble when he finally has to pull away for some air. The laugh that escapes him both infuriates and enamores you further, 'I know darlin...but I love you too.'

[prurientpuddlejumper]

A Punchable Face That I Want to Kiss, Ch. 9

<- Chapter 8 || Sequel: A Lipless Face That I Want to Marry

Summary: The goddamned Red Dragon. 

2,384 words

The smell was what hit you first. It entered your nostrils, filled your lungs like smoke, and shivered down your spine. The charcoal of burned flesh. If not for the bitter mingling of burned hair and gasoline, it might have smelled like steak on the grill. The thought turned your stomach. You gave yourself a moment to get used to it, to calm your breathing, before pulling back the curtain.

It was shocking. Horrifying beyond anything you could have prepared for.

He lay unmoving in the hydrotherapy tub in the ICU, burned over ninety percent of his body. You knew it would be bad, but you thought you had already cried your eyes dry when you were first told what had happened, and you stood in the hospital waiting room for hours begging every receptionist and nurse to tell you if he was going to live.

When they finally let you see him, you knew you had to be brave. Breaking down would only make it harder on him. Whatever you do, don’t react.

“Hey there,” you greeted him cheerfully like nothing was wrong. Don’t react. Monitors beeped steadily, and a strong antiseptic smell overpowered the smell of burning. His eyes lifted sluggishly, unfocused. Don’t... Your head swam, and you had to squeeze your eyes shut with all your might to force back the tears biting behind the lids. It felt like the air had been knocked from your lungs, and it was all you could do not to fall to your knees crying.

“Hard… to look at… huh?” he croaked after a while. You gasped at the sound of it, so pained that he had given up on forming proper words halfway through the question and ended it with a grunt. His voice was as charred as his flesh.

There was no skin left. None, except a few patches below the waist, cooling in the tub in an effort to preserve them. His hair was singed off down to the muscle, and the red remains of his scalp were blackened, cracked open and oozing in places. White teeth stood out in sharp contrast in his lipless mouth, like a skull. His lips were gone. Ripped off his face even before being burned alive by a serial killer who thought he was a fucking William Blake painting. A serial killer Will Graham had thrown in Frederick’s path, just to see what would happen.

Little fly, Thy summer’s play My thoughtless hand Has brush’d away

You opened your eyes, surrendering to the tears that poured out unimpeded.

“I don’t know what to say,” you breathed, trying to collect your thoughts. You stepped up to the edge of tub and looked him directly in the eye, making a point of showing that his appearance wasn’t why you had to close your eyes. He had bigger things to worry about than what he looked like right now, but you were sure he was going to be acutely insecure about it. With his contact lens removed, his one dead eye completed the living-corpse effect, but you weren’t repulsed. “I was trying to think of something to say to you—something I could say that would make things better. Because I don’t want to ask a stupid question like ‘how are you feeling?’… or make cliché promises like it’s going to be OK. I tried to think of what I would want someone to say to me if I was the one lying there, but there’s nothing. Nothing I can say will magically make anything better, and I...”

The urge to hold him overwhelmed you. You wanted so badly to kiss him, but you couldn’t even touch him—not an inch of his scorched body—without hurting him more. Choked sobs broke through the tight constriction of your throat, and you gave up trying to speak, kneeling instead by the side of the water tank, your head leaning against its cold metal walls. It was all you could do, the closest you could get.

The last thing you wanted was to make him have to comfort you, but that was exactly what you did; Chilton started whispering sweet consolations to you, though every syllable was an effort, and without lips to press together he had great difficulty forming many sounds, and could no longer pronounce the letters b or p at all. You struggled to make out the words, but you understood the meaning behind them.

You just wanted to touch him again, and he felt the same way.

“Put your hand near mine,” he suggested, slow and raspy.

Carefully, you placed your palm down on the smooth white rim of the tub, avoiding medical tubing and wires, next to his. His wrist was restrained in a soft bandage to keep his arm from sliding off the edge and to keep the IV needles in place.

With painful effort, he stretched his fingers out. Even moving an inch hurt, the skin crisp and easily broken, but he gently touched the back of your hand. He released his muscles and let his hand relax on top of yours. A sigh of relief puffed from his chest. It was exhausting, but worth it.

You still wore your engagement ring, but his had to be cut off of him. A nurse had handed it back to you in pieces, the gold warped from the heat.

Chilton was furious with his situation. He was furious with Will Graham—his initial diagnosis of intelligent psychopath seemingly more accurate by the day. He was furious with Hannibal Lecter, with Jack Crawford, and with himself. Every part of his body screamed in pain the drugs could barely dull. He was grateful for one thing, however.

He was glad Dolarhyde had taken him in his car, and not at home. The goddamned Red Dragon. Francis Dolarhyde tortured him and killed two of his best bodyguards, but his modus operandi was murdering whole families. If Chilton had considered the risk, he would have never agreed to that interview. It was supposed to be publicity for his newest book, The Dragon Slayer. He pictured the headline: “Hero psychiatrist once again aids in the capture of serial killer.” If anything had happened to you, he wouldn’t have survived. He wouldn’t have wanted to.

God, he wished he could touch you. Wished you could comfort him. Wished he could feel anything besides pain. Would he ever kiss you again? Would whatever they could reconstruct of his face be something you would ever want to kiss? You stood by him through so much, but he could never ask you to walk through this hell with him.

  *****

Two familiar voices spoke in hushed whispers outside the thin curtain. No. The hairs on the back of your neck bristled like an angry dog. Those were not the people you wanted to see right now.

“He’s trashed. You ought to get ready for this,” said the deeper of the voices, as if you couldn’t hear him.

Will Graham and Jack Crawford pulled back the curtain divider and entered the room, and you immediately leaped to your feet and rounded on them. You'd been holding in a scream since you saw Frederick burned, and now you unleashed it on them in full force.

“You bastards. You fucking bastards!”

Will’s eyes fell on Chilton, and regarded him with a disturbed, yet wholly unsurprised expression, like someone who set a mouse trap and now had to deal with the bloated carcass.

“Frederick, it’s Will Graham,” he said, ignoring you. “I’m sorry this happened to you.”

He wasn’t.

“He knows who you are,” you hissed through bared teeth. You would have screamed at him, physically pushed him out of the room, but you heard Frederick rasping, tongue moving behind his teeth as he tried to talk, his eyes locked on Will. You stood aside and let him speak for himself.

“You… set me… up. You knew it… You put your hand on me in the picture… like a pet.”

Will translated his broken speech for Crawford, and asked if he saw anything in the Red Dragon’s lair.

A blind black woman.

“Reba,” Crawford said. “The Dragon said her name when he called Lecter.”

With a lead to follow, the pair turned to leave.

“That’s it? That’s all you came here for, huh? You get your answers? Was it worth it?” you laughed bitterly. “Why the hell didn’t you protect him?!” you roared at Crawford, snarling savagely. “You gave Will a SWAT team when both of them were in that fucking article! Why wasn’t anybody watching him?”

Crawford shifted uncomfortably, unable to show the guilt he deeply felt while there was still a killer to catch. “We believed that the Dragon would—”

“Yeah, you believed he’d target Will, right?” you interrupted. “Because that’s what Will told you? You are at best a criminally negligent idiot being led around by the nose by psychopaths, and at worst, you are complicit in enabling them!” The fierce tears streaming down your face warned him better than to argue. You turned your fury back to Will where it truly belonged. “You! Stay the hell away from us. If you come near him again, I swear I’ll—” you spat, but stopped your threat short. You wanted to rip him limb from limb. You did. But saying you’ll kill someone was more than empty words around people like this. And the truth was, you didn’t have that in you. Not like Will did.

So you let them walk out without taking any revenge, or even promising to.

As soon as the curtain swished shut behind them, you wanted to fall to your knees again, but your anger hadn’t yet burned itself out. You turned on Frederick. “Stop getting involved with them! You keep trying to swim with the sharks, but you’re not a shark, Frederick—you’re chum on the water!” Your chest heaved with emotion and your voice was too hoarse to continue without a fresh round of tears.

Chilton wouldn’t dignify that analogy with a response, but grumpily turned his head away to stare at the opposite wall. At least you imagined it was grumpily—he was unable to cross his arms over his chest with annoyance, or leer haughtily through his brow which was singed to the bone, or curl his torn-off lips into a scowl, or even produce an offended growl from his raw throat, and yet you could see him doing all of it clearly in your head.

He was still your Frederick. He hadn’t changed. He never did. No matter what horrific punishment he suffered for his hubris, he would pick himself back up and continue to stick his nose where it didn’t belong until the fates knocked him down again. You admired that most about him—surviving the worst odds again and again, and keeping his ego intact. It was what first made you fall for him, all those years ago.

It never was pity at all, was it? It was always his strength that drew you in.

“I don’t… want you to get hurt again,” you explained, calmer, softer, your voice a trembling mess. “It’s a miracle you survived this, and I…” You wondered how much more could his body take before there was nothing left to recover—before he was nothing but a mass of scar tissue and empty space where bones and organs once were. But you couldn’t tell him that. He had to focus on healing now, not long-term outcomes. “I don’t want to lose you.”

He survived, but with massive trauma. It had to all add up. His blind eye, lost facial bones and teeth, missing organs, and now the majority of skin would be scar tissue and grafts. How many medications and risks of complications were stacking up? How many years were taken off his life? If he went septic before the grafts were completed he could he still die here in the ICU. If he made it out, he might still never move without pain again.

His maxillary prosthetic would get sore after wearing it for too long, but the sagging of his cheek and eyelid without it was also uncomfortable. It was difficult for him to reach things above his head because of the way stretching pulled at his abdominal scar. And those were small compared to this.

What would his life be now?

“You don’t have to stay… out of loyalty,” he wheezed, sensing the way your eyes drifted over his broken body.

“It’s alright,” you smiled through tears, the salt getting in your mouth, “I cleared my schedule. I’ve got nowhere else to be but here.”

“You know… what I mean…”

“Are you suggesting we call off the engagement because you can’t fuck for awhile?”

He made an attempt at a laugh that sounded like choking, then fixed you with a desperate gaze. “This is… not what you signed up for...” He knew he would never be the man you had wanted to marry again. He couldn’t ask you to help him through a long recovery, to look at the nightmare he had become and pretend to still love him.

“How uncharacteristically selfless of you, Dr. Chilton,” you teased, “but I just told you I don’t want to lose you. Asshole.”

His one good eye searched your face through a layer of tears that clung to its surface, but you couldn’t tell if he was smiling or frowning.

There was so little left of his face that was recognizable, but around the gaping hole of teeth the cheeks were still Chilton’s cheeks, the shape of his nose still Chilton’s nose. His one good eye was still the color of water at Chesapeake Beach.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you, so the only thing you should worry about is living long enough to make that happen. I’m never going to leave you, however bad things get. I love you, dummy. Always.”

Slowly, he released a breath he’d been holding since he was fished out of that fountain. The side of his mouth that always tugged up into a crooked smile when he was winning twitched. A contented, charred noise hummed in his throat. “You thought of something to say… to make it… a little better.”

[lemonietrinket]

How Day6 would react to overhearing you admit your crush on him to one of the other members

AN: a request from anon. i feel ive treated this more seriously (and focused perhaps more on the confessions themselves, bc i interpreted ‘crush’ subconsciously as ‘having long-term-feelings for’) than you meant in your request but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

Sungjin

“hyuuun, i’m in love please make it stop.” “only way that’s going to happen is if you go tell him.” “...i hate you.”

sungjin... i picture is going to date to marry (or an equivalent if marriage is not for you, as though i get the vibe he’s quite traditional, for the right person he would be very easily convinced), so he takes crushes and confessions quite seriously

probably would feel bad for eavesdropping

then would feel happy that you felt the same way

but then more serious issue of now having to confess would take over

would spend a long time thinking of the best way to do it

would probably settle on a classic walk or cinema/theatre depending on what’s showing

would make damn sure he and you would be alone while confessing—so to save both parties from pressure and embarrassment should things go wrong 

also he’s quite a private guy and would want to let others know on his own and your terms

ngl probably wouldn’t admit he’d overheard you until like... a long time later

it would be under the initial reasoning that he would wait until you were stable so it wouldn’t have too big of an effect

but then he would forget

until it randomly came up in conversation 

like we may even be talking years here

maybe when you live in your own place, just the two of you, and you’re hanging out with him and younghyun who is just refusing to go home bc the food is too good at yours who brings it up 

“i don’t understand how it took so long for you two to get together, like even wonpil was starting to find yn’s pining sickening.”

and you would be salty, because “excuse me i hid my desperation very well!”

and sungjin would just immediately come to support you because he’s a loyal motherfucker and would begin, without thinking “she did, i didn’t know until i—”

that would be when he stops himself bc hes like oh shit i didn’t tell her and now two very curious sets of eyes are like staring at him and he’s 98% sure he can’t backtrack at all 

“when you what?”

and he would just sigh “when i overheard you telling younghyun that you liked me”

and there’d be a moment of silence, followed by laughter 

youngk would be confused, probably, having a surprisingly better recollection that you perhaps would “wait i remember that—how did it take you two months to work out what to do next?!”

and you end up just laughing harder, before noticing the the mix of emotions on sungjins face and reassure him “it doesn’t matter how long it took, we’re together now”

anyway overall sungjin is probably quite serious about it, but it will have a happy ending, you’ve just got to be patient lmao 

Jae

“dowoon, what do i do?” 

jae would be playful about it

after hearing you ask dowoon for advice since hes good friends with him he would be ecstatic, but would try and keep it lowkey

he’d hide out of sight of the doorway he’d passed by to have his little moment

and then he wouldn’t be able to stop smiling

his eyes would keep glancing to you for the rest of the day, even more than usual

but i think he would want to make things more official as soon as possible, as he doesn’t want to waste any time when he could do it sooner and be with you

and so he’d ask if you had a spare moment on the day or so, and take you some place quiet

not necessarily his room, more likely just outside the front door in the warm summer air

and ngl i think he would totally pull the “i think you know why i summoned you here today”

of course, yall have no idea, but you’re used to his occasional crackheadery—otherwise why would you crush on him so hard? “not a bit, but if its a trip to get snacks you don’t even have to ask, i’m in”

“well, that is a plan for later... depending on how this goes”

that’s the point where you would get confused and begin to wonder if something is up, but hel’l continue “i found out something really cool today yn.”

“really? was it the pin to brian’s credit card?”

he would laugh but shake his head, “nah even better” and that would give you the heads up that this was serious, and it would occur to you that he might have overheard something

but it becomes obvious when he follows with “a little bird... told me that someone, likes someone else, in our group. our friendship group.”

you briefly consider panicking, as the whole thing could still be construed as him not liking you back, but you put on a brave face and push through, “oh really? who?”

“that’s the problem, i don’t know, but i was wondering if you did.”

the chance was clear for anyone to see, and seeing the glimmer of hope, you seize it “well, i know someone who likes you... but i’m not sure if its mutual, so that might be why they haven’t said”

“if it’s who i think it is, then it definitely is... mutual” he would admit

and that would be the closest the two of you ever got to literally word-for-word confessing, because out of nerves neither of you would probably be able to admit it at the crux of the moment

however, like in all the movies idc if its cliche you would gravitate towards each other, and that would be the moment where you both recognised your feelings as well as shared your first kiss together

ok i’m going to stop before i combust 

anyway as for whether he’d admit he’d overheard you, he would probably be quite quick to the chase on that one too, probably right after the kiss and you’ve spoken about it a bit more, he’ll probably just say “i kind of accidentally overheard you telling dowoon, please don’t be mad at me”

but how could you be, you’d gotten what you wanted after all

in conclusion, jae is lighthearted about it and woudn’t waste any time

Younghyun

“wonpil did i tell you how much i love his eyes?” “hmmm... perhaps... but tell me again, to just to make sure.”

god bless wonpil his emotional support would be A+

right off the bat our youngk is a songwriter

he probably finds a lot of inspiration out of love

and so his feelings for you coalesce to create love songs that he may or may not use in the future

anyhow, it means that to cope with his feelings he’s probably half composed something small where he admits them 

with little intention of you probably ever hearing it at all

or at least, not without big chunks edited and names changed/cut

but when he overhears you rambling to wonpil who doesn’t mind the sappiness a characteristic you probably got off our brian anyway with his occasional borderline emo-ness

he’s grateful to his past-self for starting it, and realises that maybe its time to finish it

so it’ll take a week or so for him to finally confess

bc even though hes a bit of a flirt, i don’t see him wanting to tarnish love, since he owes it so much and its not fun to play with someone’s heart, especially not yours

so it might take him a little longer, and when he gets round to it, it’ll be perfect, just like you in his eyes

so prepare to be serenaded

yes, that sort of serenaded

in dim evening light, with the sun’s glow beginning to fade and make way for the stars, flickering like the candles laid out for you

again, that classical vibe won’t be missed on him

as for whether he’d tell you, probably only if you asked, but he would add that he’d been writing the song beforehand

he just may not admit to not planning on ever performing it

overall? when it comes to romantic flair, kang younghyun is king 

Wonpil

“sungjin, uh, do you know where wonpil is? i can’t—” “isn’t he at your hip?” “as much as i kind of wish he was, he kind of isn’t.”

wonpil, my lovely sweetheart

probably wouldn’t be able to stop himself from just

walking straight in when he accidentally overhears you to ask right there and then

like, you’re probably pestering talking to sungjin in the kitchen or another equally frequented place, so it was likely that someone was going to overhear anyway 

and maybe that was part of sungjins plan dont put it past him

but also it meant wonpil got further into the room the hunt for sustenance spurring him on, you know how it is before he caught onto what was being said, thus making it harder to back out

thus sungjin knew he’d overheard, but you with your back to the door were still clueless

and would’ve stayed that way had wonpil not continued and straight up asked or sungjin not said anything, which lets face it by this point he was really considering doing

he would be really excited about hearing that the feelings were mutual, and you were right there so what harm was really being done if he did just straight up waltz in?

as soon as you heard his small “you like me too?” you would whip around 

aaand that would be sungjin’s cue to leave

“do you mean that?”

“it only feels right when you’re by my side, pillie.”

the words you would exchange would be in a soft flurry of emotion tbh, out of disbelief but excitement for the future

most likely ending with you embracing, foreheads resting against one another’s

fluff hours only in the house of pil, ok?

Dowoon

“jae, do you think dowoon will be free tomorrow?” “yea why?” “i want to take him to the cat cafe—” “oh my god is it happening?! is it really happening? are you finally going to tell him? plan ILU is underway?” “keep it down!” “oh god everybody stay calm, stay fucking calm—!”

my bean

my lovely bean

would feel guilty over accidentally eavesdropping, and this would reflect in his shyness later

however, he decides to run with the silver lining of having the chance to be prepared for tomorrow

and so he would not say a word and try and act natural

especially when you ask him if he wants to go out somewhere with you the next day

he’s not sure how he did, he tried to hide his ears as best he could but he was also well aware you knew him too well

when the next morning rolls around, he’s up early, getting ready in nice clothes that he hopes aren’t suspiciously too nice

and then he waits, trying to calm is nerves, before realising that maybe ignorance is bliss

when the time comes and you make your way to the cafe, he finds it difficult to act surprised, but also to try and keep his breath steady

finally, near the end, after asking if he had a good time and wanted to come back, you confess you liked him and it’s as if a weight lifts off his shoulders

he would kiss your cheek soon after, without much warning, out of relief and joy and nerves and a whole lot of else

and you’d probably pull him in for a proper kiss by his collar as soon as you’re sure he’s ok with it

and then the fact he eavesdropped would be a secret that he would die with

~~~

Masterlist

[cirrius-akiyo]

KALEIDOSCOPE MIND

-Sequel to "Hold On (Let's Go Home)" & "Unpack the Baggage"-

____

Eddie has been told that the journey of recovery for his husband is a long one. Buck is still at various state of consciousness, drugged up to the point that he is befuddled in his wake or in and out of nightmare fueled doze.

They are still far from passing the crucial point in determining whether Buck will come out of this without deficit or not. Everyday is a waiting game for them.

Everytime Buck is awake, he will just simply look at Eddie as if he is trying to commit Eddie into his memory. Not a single word has come out from his mouth, just small smiles that have carved his lips and occasional hums. Eddie tries to convince himself that Buck needs the rest. That his brain has been injured and it will take some time to heal.

Eddie just want his husband back. They haven't really talk about the cursed night. Maybe it is his selfish desire to avoid anymore guilt and continue living on knowing that he might be the cause of his husband's death, but Eddie really despise the universe as much as himself for putting Buck in this state. He is so terrified to think that there's a possibility that Buck will die with the thought of Eddie's infidelity to be the last thing on his mind.

Their family and friends have come and go, providing neverending support and encouragement to both of them although he can feel like they are directed to him more than Buck. Carla has been bringing Chris from time to time, letting the boy to cuddle up with his Buck. Between the two of them, he feels like Chris is the pillar of strength that's supporting Eddie from crumbling down now that his foundation is currently fighting for his life in hospital bed.

Holding his husband limp hand in his grip, Eddie sometimes think that maybe...just maybe Buck doesn't want to wake up into this reality. That maybe Eddie had hurt him so bad that it pains him to wake up. Maybe Buck is happy to stay in the solace his mind had created.

"Lover of mine

Maybe we'll take some time

Kaleidoscope mind

Gets in the way

Hope and I pray

Darling, that you will stay

Butterfly lies

Chase them away

Hmm"

///

Eddie is at his side, thumbing the beautiful birthmark that he has comes to love while whispering soothing words into Buck's ears. Buck looks peaceful today and he's so beautiful like that despite the garish surrounding.

"I love you, Evan and I've missed you. I've missed you in our bed, in our home sweetheart." Eddie murmurs to the back of Buck's hand. The house seems like it has lose its colour. Chris had since been staying with Abuela or Carla and Eddie had went back only once to pack a bag for them.

The mind is a complicated thing, Eddie tries to ingrain the mantra into his belief. Buck is scheduled to be transferred out from ICU in day five post surgery. Today is day four of his stay.

Suddenly Buck's hand twitch in Eddie's hold, just like he had done sometimes before. Eddie is expecting to see another bout of Buck silently gazing at him while still swimming in the haze of sleep like he always do in his waking. What Eddie doesn't expect is for the hand to continue twitching and Buck's whole body suddenly jerking in an awful uncoordinated movement.

Seizure, his mind supplied. Buck is having a seizure. Eddie screams for help to the doctors outside while pleading for the twitching to stop. All the little progress Buck has made now might as well be useless.

Doctors and nurses come spilling into the room with one of them pushing Eddie out to the corridor. After a while, the heinous jerking stop and his husband is wheeled out of the room.

"Where are you taking him? Is he okay?" Eddie tries to follow through when a nurse stopped him from doing so.

"We'll do everything in our power to help him," the nurse said, not really a promise.

Just like that, Eddie is left alone again to wait. Unable to follow to where his husband is going.

"Dance around the living room

Lose me in the sight of you

I've seen the red, I've seen the blue

Take all of me

Lead to where your secrets are

Where we've been a thousand times

Swallow every single lie

Take all of me"

///

Buck had suffered another small ruptured aneurysm and now they are back to square one, maybe even backward. Now he is on ventilator again and just like that the timer restarts.

Eddie feels like they were hurdled back ten yards with every ten steps forward they took.

Their family and friends have come running when he told them the news, preparing for the worst.

Chris is a welcomed weight on his lap that is doing a great job at keeping Eddie grounded. While Eddie's one hand is keeping Chris steady on his thighs, the other is playing around Buck's wedding ring between his nimble fingers.

Both weight assuring his tired mind that Buck will come back from this. He must be...he should be because Eddie doesn't know what will happen to him and Chris if he doesn't. Shannon's death had been devastating but Buck... No, he will not let his mind spiraling down there.

Instead, Eddie let his memory drifts to the moment Buck had said yes. The twinkle of his eyes can easily light up the highest skyscraper there is. Eddie knew then that he had made among the best decision in his life at that exact instant. And the twinkles make their appearance again when Buck walked down the aisle with Bobby giving him away. But the twinkles were even brighter when the judge decreed Chris' adoption paper.

The twinkles never really stop. Buck keeps showing them in different ways. When he calls them for dinner. When Chris hums in delight with every bite. When Chris says his goodnight. When Eddie compliments Buck's new shirt or sweater. When Eddie says the 'I love you's.

What he would give in order to see those bright twinkles again.

"I'll never give you away

'Cause I've already made that mistake

If my name never fell off your lips again

I know it'd be such a shame

When I take a look at my life

And all of my crimes

You're the only thing that I think I got I right

I'll never give you away

'Cause I've already made

Already made that mistake"

///

"S'hurt." Buck whines into Eddie's soothing caress. He stubbornly shuts his eyes close with a hand, sluggishly trying to block whatever light flashing at him.

"I know sweetheart, but Dr. Stevenson needs to test your cognitive functions so they will know you're okay." Eddie tries to comfort his distressed husband. Light sensitivity is to be expected but it still hurt Eddie to see Buck constantly flinching in pain.

"Alright Evan, can you tell us your full name again?" Dr. Stevenson then proceed to ask.

Buck huff in annoyance. Why can't they leave him alone to sleep? He already told them his name yesterday. He's so tired, why can't they see that?

"Evan..." Buck tries. Huh. Weird. He should know his name. "Diaz...uh," Buck's face contorted in panic as he tries to jog his memory. "...Buck." He cries in frustration. He should remember his name. Why can't he remember his name?

"Hey, hey Evan. It's okay if you can't remember now. You'll get it right soon." Eddie calms his upset husband while Buck kept whimpering in anguish.

Despite the initial scares, Buck's prognosis has been quite promising. He's off the ventilator and has been moved out from the ICU relatively quick. It took him some time to properly speak and even longer to open his eyes without flinching.

Most of the times he will be asleep, passed out from exhaustion from doing simple cognitive exercises. He is still experiencing memory gap and fogginess but that is all to be expected. His motor function is also improving despite the mild numbness.

"Eddie, m'scared." His voice barely a whisper. Confusion lacing his whole face. His head feels heavy and the fatigue just doesn't seem to go away.

"Come here." Eddie slides into the hospital bed, wary of the wires and IV snaking around Buck. Buck automatically latched himself to Eddie's side while Eddie wipes some stray tears that are staining Buck's cheek away.

"Tired. Hurt." Buck sniffles brokenly, face nuzzling deeper into Eddie's neck.

"I know. I know. But you are doing so much better, sweetheart." Eddie gingerly tracing patters on Buck's back, feeling the warm puff of breath cradling his own neck.

Comfortable silence slowly stretched between them with Buck is finally at the edge of sleep. Eddie pulls Buck tighter into his embrace, anchoring Buck to his chest.

"Don'wanna forget you n'Chris," Buck mumbles, already half asleep.

It never gets easier to see your supposedly strong and healthy husband broke down in tears for not remembering his own name. At how he was defeated by his own mind.

"Lover of mine

I know you're colorblind

I watched the world fall from your eyes

Ooh

All my regrets

And things you can't forget

Light them all up

Kiss them goodbye"

///

After three weeks of camping at the hospital, Buck is finally home. Little by little, the colours are coming back to their little house.

Buck amazingly had come out relatively unscathed after two brain surgeries aside from frequent dizziness, mild exhaustion and occasional numbness.

Abuela has moved in with them temporarily despite Buck's protest, arguing that Carla is still going to be there from time to time and that he'll not be left alone for more than one hour at most. That Chris is also capable to call for help if anything (God forbids) happen.

Meanwhile, Eddie has returned back to work albeit reluctantly. Shifts, long or short are never the same without Buck sitting next to him in the rig or at dinner table. He was mulling over some chores when suddenly his phone pings with new notification. With Buck stuck at home, Eddie never lets his phone out of sight in case if emergency.

The content of the notification put a wide grin on his face. It was a shaky image of Buck sleeping on the couch while holding what seems like Eddie's t-shirt from last night. Which Eddie knows has been put into the laundry basket. Eddie can't really make out the details of Buck's features with the image being so blurry. Not that he'll tell Abuela that if he wants to keep receiving them in the future.

As for now, he has another six hours to go before he can go back to cuddle his awaiting husband.

///

The house is silent when Eddie returns with darkness washing over every corner, save for the night light coming from Chris' room.

Naturally, Eddie skips over to Chris' room first to check on his son and found him safely tucked in bed, deep in sleep. A soft smile cracked on his lips.

He then proceeds to check on Abuela who is residing in the guest room. Abuela is making a habit of leaving the bed room door cracked open a little, in case Buck or Chris need her.

Satisfied, Eddie slowly enters into his and Buck's bedroom, tip toeing on his feet as to avoid disrupting his sleeping husband. Instead, Eddie is met with an empty room. Confused, he checks the bathroom but only to find it unoccupied.

Worry starting to creep into his gut when the couch in the living room is also vacant. He double check to confirm Buck's jeep is still parked beside his truck.

Eddie is ready to tear down the house and even the street to find Buck when from the corner of his eyes, he can see the light in the backyard patio is on.

Lo and behold; there lies Buck, sleeping on the patio swing, snuggled between a thick blanket and fluffy pillow. The book he was reading long forgotten on the wooden deck. Eddie can't help from smiling.

Another side effect that come out from this is Buck's ability to fall asleep almost anywhere at anytime seems to be amplified.

He's lucky the night is not as chilly as usual or he'll get a nasty scolding from Abuela (and Carla, even Athena and Maddie, Hen included, oh and not to forget Bobby's disapproval and Chim's teasing) if he's able to get a cold cause he 'foolishly' slept outside instead in their warm bed.

Eddie steps forward to his husband, expertly avoiding any creaking wooden planks before kneeling in front of the slumbering man. He can't help himself but to stroke the soft curls casing Buck's face. Days without any products bring about the glorious wave of hair. Buck needs a haircut sooner than later, or he'll fuss over his hair being unmanageable.

"Evan." Eddie calls softly, trying to pull Buck out of his sleep.

"Hmm." Buck ends up snuggling even deeper under the cocoon.

"Let's go to bed, darling." Eddie coaxes.

"Don'wanna."

"I promise you, you'll regret it tomorrow." Eddie threatens passively.

"But it's so comf'able, Eddie." Buck whines, all bleary-eyed.

Eddie sighs, massaging the bridge of his nose. Buck can be stubborn if he wants to, no matter how adorable he might look doing it.

Gathering all of his might, Eddie scoops up Buck, still swaddled in his blanket. Surprisingly, no protest is coming out from his husband. Rather, Buck nestles his face into Eddie's chest while his hands embracing Eddie's neck like a koala. Eddie can't stop but to notice how much weight has Buck lost. They'll work on that later.

Eddie then cautiously deposit Buck onto their bed, fixing the blanket and fluffing his pillow. Just like that, Buck is off to his dream land again.

Buck is a constant ball of energy. Bright, bold and loud. Seeing him sleeping so much is disheartening even though Eddie knows he needs it.

Encassed in the deafening silence of the night, Eddie chest tightens whenever he thinks about how he almost lost this. Sense of dread envelopes him everytime he remembers how Buck almost slipped from his hold.

Pulling Buck tighter against his embrace, Eddie renews his wedding vows silently under his breath.

"Dance around the living room

Lose me in the sight of you

I've seen the red, I've seen the blue

Take all of me

Lead to where your secrets are

Where we've been a thousand times

Swallow every single lie

Take all of me"

///

They are in the kitchen, trying to decide on dinner now that Abuela has returned back to her house. Not before leaving lengthy strict instructions for both of them with quarter of them related to their 'rumpy-pumpy'. "That boy needs his rest, Edmundo." She had quipped before leaving.

Giving his husband a quick glance, Eddie feels like it's the time to address the elephant in the room.

"Evan, we haven't exactly talk about that night." Eddie starts, trying to fish out Buck's attention, whose face currently deep inside the freezer trying to formulate the course of dinner.

Buck closes the fridge and slowly turns to face Eddie, expressionless. Eddie can't help but to reminisce how Buck's face was frozen on that fateful night. Tingling sensation suddenly wash over his whole being.

"I know you were in pain, perhaps still are but...please tell me how can I make it up to you." Eddie continues when Buck remains silent. He then delicately pulls Buck waist towards him, embracing into the warmth.

After a beat, Buck lets out a deep breath, returning Eddie's hug and settling against his chest.

"I was angry at you Eddie, I'm not gonna lie." Buck starts. That got Eddie all wide eyed. He tries to loosen the hug, but Buck keeps him at his place.

"When I was under, I thought about how Ana could replace me in your and Chris' life." Buck whispers into the crook of Eddie's neck.

"How easy for her to fit it in. How easy for Chris to love her. How easy for you to love her. How she's able to give you a child or two if you want to. How perfect the picture will be. How easy I am to be forgotten." Buck forlornly confess. The ominous shadow of his mind is not some place inviting.

Eddie frowns with guilt and shame but as he tries to say something, he is quickly cut by Buck.

"But then, I woke up to your voice, your hands warm against mine. And when I am able to see, watching you sitting there beside me, all of my insecurities fly away. I know I must have look horrible but you still stay. Laying in the hospital bed is not exactly sexy, you know." Buck chuckles, tightening his hold against Eddie's strong back.

Eddie laughs lightly but it was hard to imagine how Buck must have felt at that time. Confused and in pain. Unable to control his body and mind.

Eddie then slowly moves his hand upwards to cup Buck's face, short stubble soft against his palms.  

Gazing into the baby blues, Eddie can see the uncertainty storming under the irises. Eddie tenderly brush the bottom of Buck's lips with his. "Evan, no matter what condition you'll be in the future, I promise you, I'll stay. I've made a mistake and I'm going to make it right by you if you let me." Another soft kiss lingers.

Eddie's fingers later find themselves cupping Buck's neck and Buck melts into the kiss. Before they know it, they keep kissing like their lives depend on it.

"I actually thought if I was killing you with my confession. Whether it was better if I just keep my mouth shut." Eddie admits a bit later, with their foreheads against each other fighting for a breather.

"Hey, don't do that to yourself. If anything, I'm partially to blame. I've been ignoring the signs, dismissing them as stress or lack of sleep." Buck tries to balm Eddie's guilt. "And it's better for the news to come out from your rather than hearing it from someone else." 

Nevertheless, Eddie still can't forget how limp his husband body was laying against him in the station's locker room. At how pale his husband has been. No matter how hard Eddie tried to rouse him, Buck's eyes had remained shut.

Easy silence washed over them, swaying together in a tight embrace to the mute music only they can hear. 

"Evan, I am sorry."

"I know."

Eddie paused. "No, seriously. I am so fucking sorry."

Buck smiles fondly. "And I seriously fucking know it."

"Just don't do it again." Buck parroted what Eddie had previously said to him with a sly grin. Oh God, the sexual tension back then had been overbearing. 

Just like that, Eddie feels like the axis of his world sets to right again, spinning gracefully. Not as halted or indented as before.

"I'll never give you away

'Cause I've already made that mistake

If my name never fell off your lips again

I know it'd be such a shame

When I take a look at my life

And all of my crimes

You're the only thing that I think I got I right

I'll never give you away

'Cause I've already made

Already made that mistake"

(Lover of Mine - 5 Seconds of Summer)

[bellasharifuddin]

The Day I Became a Mother

It’s been a while since I last post anything here, typing feels awkward as well. But this has always been a thing that I wanted to do since the day I’ve given birth, to document and blog about my pregnancy and my birth journey, so in 4-5 years to come when my memories fade, I can always come back to reminisce every detail that I keep here, like a memory capsule. 

The Day I Found Out I Was Pregnant. 

You know, when people say that when you have a strong intuition about something, trust your gut feeling, because it’s often true. Mirin and I have always talked about having kids, me wanting a baby so much within months after we got married, however, Mirin having second thoughts about it. We were both married for less than a year, sleeping on a toto without a mattress or a bed, living in the deep slum of Wangsa Maju area where the rats are larger than the cats. Hahaha. Naturally, given our circumstances, he’d want to take things slow. 

Fast forward to a couple of months, we went out for some steaks and karaoke on a weekend night. I told mirin to stop by Watsons, for me to buy a pregnancy test kit. Mirin didn’t question much, because occasionally I would randomly buy one, just for fun. But this time, I didnt just get one. I ended up buying three. Why? Because somehow, I had a strong feeling this time. I just felt... weird. It was a feeling that I can’t put it into words. 

We came home at midnight, I went to the bathroom too “pee on the stick”. Then I saw the first line... a few seconds later comes the second one. Oh my god. Okay. I knew Mirin was standing outside the toilet door, waiting. Eventually, I had to break the news to him. When I showed to Mirin, we both ended up hugging and crying. Was I happy? Was I in shock? Was I sad? Yes, a little bit of everything. Its funny that all you’ve wanted was a baby, then when it actually happens, suddenly you’re freaked out. Happy that its a blessing. Sad that it hits you without a warning. 

                                                      Pregnant!

When the morning sickness finally kicked in, I knew we couldn’t live in the current house. Its not the best place to raise a child. And the next-door neighbor was having major renovation that was super loud and noisy. After sleepless nights and searching for a new place, we eventually moved out. Bought our first bed, bought our first dining table, bought our first gas stove. A many of firsts. Soon we finally bought a baby cot from Ikea. We bought it too early. Although it was too early to put it up, but Mirin assembled it anyways. I could tell that he was excited. It was such a fun and exciting moment, for the both of us.

But those were the fun part. Like most pregnancies, the not so fun part about being pregnant was me being diagnosed with Pregnancy Hypertension during my 36th week of pregnancy. My blood pressure spiked up to 140/100 on two consecutive readings, and the next thing I know, that I’m sitting in an ambulance, on my way to Hospital Kuala Lumpur’s emergency building. 

                     At Hospital Kuala Lumpur. Waiting for an available bed

                  Mirin bought me the entire family mart food available xD

I spent 3 nights in their maternity wards, finally discharged after the doctor told me that I was clear to go. While I was in the hospital, it pains me to see new mothers struggling during the COVID19 pandemic. Throughout your stay, no visitations were allowed from anyone including your husband. If your baby cries or if you’re in pain, you’d have figure it out yourself. I remember praying to god while crying that I do not want to be induced there. The ward was stuffy and hot. There were too many people crammed in a room. It was hell. 

The Day That I Give Birth

One week after my discharge, we both went for my monthly checkup with my OBGYN at Pantai. Again, my doctor advised me to be induced tomorrow, since my blood pressure spiked again, and I was almost full term (38 weeks) so it was okay to go. She told me that “It’s best to get the baby out or else you boleh kena sawan” OMG Okay okay. So we packed our bags, ate sushi for dinner, slept soundly for the very last time, and headed to the hospital again at 9 am the next morning. 

                         Induction day. We definitely overpacked haha

       Arrived at the hospital lobby, did a mandatory swab test before entering

Appointment card. Booked and paid for the accommodations prior to checking in

I was told to change into my labor robe (I’m not too sure what it’s called), and waited. When my doctor finally arrived, she then began to insert some sort of a plastic strip deeeeeep into my cervix. Ouch, that hurts. Okay, so that’s how induction works eh? Then I was given antibiotics into my IV drip too, since I was GBS (Group-B Strep) Positive as well. 

                                Toilet selfie! Calm before the storm

After an hour, I felt the contraction. Initially it was uncomfortable, then it hurts like hell. The contractions felt like period pain but like a million times worse. Occasionally, Doctor Haslinda would come and check on my “bukaan”. Hours passed. 1cm... 2cm... 3cm.... when I finally said:

“Omg sakit sangat dah tak tahan, I want an epidural!“

Ok no, that was a lie. I initially didn’t want to take an epidural. I wanted to try and bear with the pain, but Mirin convinced me to take it, so after tossing and turning like a dying fish I finally said okay. 

The anesthesiologist came after what felt like an eternity, and asked me to sign a consent form. I’m not really sure what was written in that. Siapa je ada masa nak baca terms and conditions panjang panjang bila tengah contractions??? 

He told me to sit on the edge of the bed, while hugging a pillow. I remembered him injecting some numbing spray, then I felt the BIG NEEDLE poking through my spine. Then.. that was it. It was so fast. The entire process took only 5 mins. Was it painful as I thought it would be? No. Was it still scary tho? Yep hahaha.

Soon after, Dr Haslinda pecahkan air ketuban when I was 4cm dilated. It didnt hurt because I was on epidural, but I felt so much warm liquid flowing out non-stop. So bizarre. 

Once you’re on epidural, you’re basically bed-ridden. No bathroom trips anymore, my legs feel like jelly. Sometimes the nurse will come to empty my bladder with a catheter. When the epidural kicked in, I could finally sleep. I slept like a baby. I slept for hours. Painless. No more feeling like a dying fish. And so I thought.............

3am. I woke up with INTENSE CONTRACTION PAIN. Why is it so painful? I thought I’m on epidural? I called the nurse straight away. Turned out the epidural drug ran out. It was sooo stressful because the nurse that was on duty that night didn’t know how to topap balik the epidural drug into the machine. She called her colleague, then the colleague also tak tahu. Then both of them spent like forever to troubleshoot how to use the machine, sampai lastly kena call doctor tanya. YA ALLAH, rasa macam nak maki je. 

7am the next day. Bukaan baru 7-8cm. Doctor decided to use another form of induction to speed up the process. It’s called pitocin, and injected through my IV drip. Within MINUTES, I could feel very intense and painful contractions, that the epidural can’t even help. So throughout the remaining 7cm to 10cm, I felt every inch of real labor pain. I clenched Mirin’s hand. So tightly that I think it got bruised. A minute felt like an hour, and an hour felt like years. It was soo bad that my memory was so fuzzy. 

Finally, it was 10cm. Time to go. They put both of my legs up, macam gambar bawah ni haha: 

                                      Picture courtesy from Google

There were two nurses, one small cute Malay nurse, one pregnant Indian nurse, and my OBGYN, Dr Haslinda. I love them all, they were so supportive and nice to me throughout my labor process. My doctor taught me how to push correctly:

“Take a deeeeeeep breath then tahan, clench your fists, chin down and teran macam nak berak sekuat-kuat hati“

I was so determined to get the baby out. I just wanted the contraction pain to end. I did everything they told me to do. I hold on to Mirin’s hand, and PUSHHHHHHHEDDDDDD! I could hear Mirin saying “You’re doing great sayang!” After several pushes, and some sips of water breaks, the baby’s head is almost out. The head was the hardest to push. Besar! I literally felt like my down there was stretching to its limit. Once the head is out, I did another small push, and the rest of the baby’s body macam keluar instantly macam super slimy like that haha. 

Finally the baby is out! 8.26AM! The contractions stopped immediately. I instantly feel like I wasn’t pregnant anymore. The doctor then injected something on my thigh, then my uri just popped right out haha. My body felt so tired, but so so light. Lega, yay no longer pregnant haha. I ended up having second degree perineal tear without an episiotomy, and was stitched. I felt the benang, ngilu. I felt the needle pierced through my muscles too. But it didnt hurt so it wasn’t too bad. 

The baby gets cleaned up. Then soon all of the nurses left the labor room, it was just me, Mirin and our baby. Mirin picked her up, and azankan. Mirin started crying, I cried too. It was magical :’)

We did skin to skin and tried breastfeeding for the first time. As I look at her, hair was so thick. Her cute little fingers. Her beautiful face. She’s perfect. 

                            I slept for 5 hours straight after the labor

Thinking back, I have no idea how I managed to muster such courage to go through all these. Mirin even told me that during the active labor stage, when I was pushing, at one point I pushed so hard that my entire face turned blue. Talk about adrenaline.

Do I want to have another baby? Well, lets keep a rain check on that question for another few more years to come xD

[kk095]

Last Ride

Here's my latest story! @defibresuslover247 gave me the idea and @eyesfixedanddilated gave me a few pointers along the way. I hope everyone enjoys!

****

Brooke was a 22 year old with a full, busty figure, dirty blonde hair, and blue eyes. She was a southern girl, born and raised in eastern Tennessee. She was always a bit of a tomboy and enjoyed outdoor activities like hunting, fishing, and riding ATV's.

The night of the incident started off normally. Brooke’s older brother Mike had received a nice tax return that year and decided to splurge a little bit by purchasing a new ATV. Since he knew his younger sister was into riding ATV's, he invited her to try it out with him.

The two siblings went out into a vacant 20 acre lot on the outskirts of town. This particular plot of land had plenty of hills and open areas, so a lot of ATV enthusiasts in the area enjoyed riding there. When the 2 of them got there, Mike parked his blue Ford F150 along a dirt path about 50 yards or so from the road. Mike got the ATV out from the small trailer attached to the back of his truck and the riding began.

For the first hour or so, the 2 siblings were having fun in the outdoors. They were zipping up and down the hills, through the dirt paths, and had a few beers along the way. But as time went on, the drinking and lack of light once the sun set took its toll. While Brooke was riding the ATV by herself, she went was riding downhill at a high rate of speed, losing track of her speed. Her chest hits the handlebars before she goes flying off the vehicle. She lands hard on the ground, striking her head and left side of her face. While tumbling down the hill, the ATV rolls violently down the hill, stomping right over Brooke’s right femur before continuing on down. Brooke screamed at the top of her lungs, feeling her right femur snap like a twig and slightly protruding through her jeans. Brooke’s wild trip down the hill came to an abrupt stop when her left arm and ribcage smashed into the side of a tree.

“Holy shit… BROOKE?!” Mike shouted from the top of the hill after watching the event unfold in horror. “Brooke?! BROOKE?! You ok?!” Mike yells as he starts to run down the hill. At the bottom of the hill, Brooke was screaming out in agonizing pain. She could see a bone fragment penetrating through her jeans on her right thigh, and her left arm was badly broken. She felt a bit dizzy, and could the stinging from open cuts and blood on the left side of her face. Her left humerus, which broke the fall into the tree at the bottom of the hill, was swollen and had some obvious deformities. Brooke tried to get up, but she obviously couldn’t. She sat on the ground squirming and crying, begging her brother to help.

When Mike got to the bottom of the hill, he was taken aback by his sister’s injuries. He stood lorna deer in headlights for a few seconds before whipping out his cell phone to call 911. The call was transcribed as the following:

911 dispatcher: 911, what is your emergency?

Mike: I need an ambulance! My sister’s hurt real bad!

911 dispatcher: Sir, please remain calm. Can you tell me the location of your emergency?

Mike: we’re on that vacant lot off of highway 501 with all the hills and paths! You gotta hurry, I think she’s hurt bad!

911 dispatcher: alright sir, police and EMS are en route. Can you tell me what happened?

Mike: She flipped off the ATV and rolled down the hill. There’s a bone sticking out of her leg!

Due to the extent of her injuries, the 911 dispatcher instructed Mike to refrain from first aid and just stay with his sister to keep her calm. Since the vacant lot was outside of town, it was going to take the ambulance at least 10-15 minutes to arrive on scene. But with the amount of pain Brooke was experiencing, those 10-15 minutes would feel like an eternity.

When EMS arrived on scene, they found Brooke screaming and crying in agony and Mike panicking, feeling semi responsible since this was all his idea. The medics instructed Mike to step away and give them space to examine Brooke.

The medics noted a few injuries immediately: open right femur fracture, left humerus fracture, facial+head lacerations, and some bumps on her head. The medics placed a c-collar since a spinal cord injury was within the realm of possibilities. The medics then removed Brooke’s socks, shoes, and snipped off her jeans so they can reset the open femur fracture. Brooke winced in pain while the 2 medics wiggled the pants off after making a few cuts with trauma shears. Next, the medics reduced the open femur fracture, which cause Brooke to scream loudly in pain for a second. Once the bone was below the skin and somewhat in its ’s normal place, the laceration from the bone protrusion was bandaged up and the area was splinted off. The next order of business was to focus on the humerus injury. There was obvious swelling and deformity, consistent with a displaced oblique fracture within the humerus. The upper left arm was also reset and splinted, causing Brooke a great deal of pain. After the arm was treated, the medics quickly bandaged up some of the head lacerations and abrasions and began setting up 2 large bore IVs. After IV access was obtained, normal saline was hung, but the medics refrained from administering pain medications since alcohol was smelled on Brooke’s breath, and there were beer cans scattered across the ground just up the hill. Brooke’s top was then cut off, sparing her black bra and matching underwear. A 5 lead ECG with a portable heart monitor was set up to obtain readings for her vital signs. On scene, Brooke’s vitals were: BP 87/49, Pulse 121, o2 saturation 94%. Brooke was placed onto a backboard and taken over to a gurney, and taken into an ambulance.

Mike begged and pleaded with EMS to ride in the ambulance with them, but they told him he couldn’t. “THAT’S MY FUCKIN SISTER! LET ME IN!” Mike shouted belligerently. One of the cops on scene offered a compromise: since he had too much to drink, they’d drive him to the hospital.

During the first part of transport, Brooke was a little short of breath, so an o2 mask with high flow oxygen was placed. The medic in the back of the ambulance lowered their stethoscope onto the girl’s chest and listened to her heart and lungs. “heart sounds good, but we’ve got diminished breath sounds on the left. Might be a tension pneumo.” The medic announced to the driver afterwards. The medic also noted that there was swelling and bruising on the side of her chest along her left ribcage, consistent with possible rib fractures or dislocation.

Over the following 10 minutes or so, Brooke’s condition changed a bit. Her GCS dropped to 10, and became a bit disoriented. Her systolic BP dropped into the upper 70s, and her heart rate was approaching the 130s. With this in mind, the medics became concerned about a potential head injury. The medics checked her pupils: right pupil was reactive, and the left pupil (injured size) had the early stages of dynamic oval pupil. Essentially, her left pupil had a slight oval, or almond shape. This is typically associated with eye trauma, optic nerve injuries, or brain bleeds originating from the back of the head. Since there wasn’t sufficient evidence of trauma to the eyes/optic nerve, it appeared a head injury was within the realm of possibilities. “Hey, what’s our ETA? GCS dropped to 10 and we’ve got a DOP in the left eye. She needs a head CT ASAP.” The medic in the back of the ambulance called out. “ETA 4 minutes. Hang in there…” the driver replied. The ambulance continued speeding down the road, sirens on full blast while Brooke continued to struggle in the back. She was squirming around and groaning in pain. “Miss, you gotta stay still for me, ok?” the medic said calmly, attempting to reason with brooke. Brooke began crying again while fidgeting around and kicking her healthy leg out. “Miss! You gotta stay calm!” the medic said more sternly, grabbing ahold of Brooke trying to hold her in place. Brooke quickly became inconsolable and demonstrated an altered mental status. “she’s definitely got a brain bleed or something…” the medic thought to themselves. Brooke needed to stay still due to her femur fracture, and because a spinal/neck injury hasn’t been ruled out. Since there was no getting through to Brooke, the medic decided to push a round of rocuronium. This medication is a strong muscle relaxer and paralytic agent, so it’s used as a chemical restraint when patients consume alcohol since alcohol doesn’t mix well with other agents commonly used.

Within 30 to 45 seconds, Brooke was knocked out by the medication. Since she was now unconscious, the medic decided to perform rapid sequence intubation on her for airway management. With a laryngoscope in 1 hand, the medic maneuvered a 7.0 ET tube into the girl’s airway. Once it was at the correct depth and place, the tube was secured with a blue tube holder, and an ambu bag was attached. For the remainder of the ambulance ride, Brooke remained hypotensive and tachycardic, and her GCS was still bouncing between 9 and 10.

Upon arrival at the ER, the medics gave the trauma team a brief rundown of Brooke’s condition as they wheeled her into an available trauma bay. Once in the room, Brooke was transferred onto the table and examination began. She was immediately started on blood transfusions- 1 unit A+ and 1 unit O- with 250 units of rhogam, 1 unit of platelets, and 1 unit of FFP. Multiple specialists were paged for consults, including: orthopedics, neurosurgery, and trauma surgery. While waiting on the specialist to arrive for their respective consultations, initial examination began. A FAST scan was performed first. The chest portion of the exam showed trace pericardial effusion, minor to moderate abdominal bruising but nothing potentially lethal, and the pelvic section came back clean. Multiple x-rays were then ordered: the x-ray of the arm confirmed displaced oblique humerus fracture, which would likely require surgical reduction with rods and pins. The chest x-ray showed 2 broken ribs and 1 dislocated rib on the left side of the thorax, along with bruising and swelling in the intercostal area. The chest x-ray also revealed a left sided tension pneumothorax with pleural effusion, which appeared to be caused from air escaping into the chest cavity, which pinched and pressed up against the lining of the lung. The next x-ray was of the femur fracture. The fracture was quite extensive, which required surgical reduction and many months of physical therapy in order to heal properly. The x-ray of Brooke’s head showed no evidence of a c-spine fracture, but there were some contusions on the skull and there didn’t appear to be any fractures; a head CT was still necessary to get a better understanding of her head injuries.

In the meantime, the trauma team decided to do what they could for her. The first order of business was to deal with the tension pneumothorax on the left side. The treatment for this was placing a chest tube in order to evacuate any air or blood. The procedure started after the area in between her ribs was sterilized. A 1 inch incision was made in the skin, followed by an additional one to cut through any fat and underlying tissue. Once a decent opening was created, a 36fr chest tube was placed into the incision area, and navigated deep into the pleural space. There was a small amount of blood drained from the tube, but a substantial amount of air exited the tube, allowing proper lung expansion once again.

Another concern arose in the coming minutes. The lower half of Brooke’s left leg was a bit discolored and cold. Her dorsalis pedis pulse was weak, so compartment syndrome was a legitimate issue here.

When orthopedics arrived, they wanted to set up pressure monitoring in the thigh to see if compartment syndrome was indeed taking place. But the orthopedic surgeon and neurosurgeon were in a bit of a disagreement. “if we don’t monitor her leg, she could lose it!” the orthopedic surgeon said. “well if we don’t get a head CT, she could die! I’d rather her lose her leg than her life!” the neurosurgeon replied smugly. The trauma surgeon offered a compromise: a fasciotomy in the emergency department. Typically, this is a procedure reserved for the operating room, but this was an emergent situation that required a quick decision. Everyone quickly got on board and the procedure was started in a moment’s notice.

Betadine was squirted on the right thigh and the bandage was removed from the splinted compound fracture. A scalpel was used to make 2 deep, long incisions in the thigh. Once the skin was incised, the underlying fat and tissue was cut out so proper bloodflow and blood drainage could take place. Her right calf and right foot immediately became a more normal complexion, and the dorsalis pedis pulse was stronger than it was just a minute or two ago. The freshly opened area was then irrigated with saline and prophylactic antibiotics to decrease the chance of infection, and the wound was somewhat closed with the shoelace suturing technique.

After the fasciotomy, Brooke’s blood pressure began to take a rapid nosedive. Vasopressors were pushed in an attempt to increase BP to a more stable level, and more blood products were hung. While trying to maintain BP, the young woman began to have a tonic-clonic seizure on the ER table. Brooke jerked and flopped erratically, biting down on the ET tube and grunting every few seconds. Her toes clenched up, wrinkling the soles of her size 8.5 feet. To combat the seizure, the trauma team acted quickly by injecting 1 dose of lorazepam intravenously in order to stop the convulsions. It was my like the tv shows where the medicine take immediate effect. In reality, it takes about 45 seconds for the meds to kick in. In those 45 seconds or so, Brooke’s twitchy, spasmodic movements slowed down incrementally until she finally settled down and stopped seizing.

After the seizure was controlled, Brooke was covered up and transported to radiology for a head CT. The GCS drop, altered mental status, DOP, and seizure were all associated with a brain bleed. Once in the CT scanner room, Brooke was transferred into the table and hooked up to a portable ventilator since nobody could be in the room with her during the scan. Prior to the scan, she was given another dose of vasopressors to keep her blood pressure semi stable since she was hypotensive. Pupil reactivity was checked before the scan as well- left pupil was sluggish and still oval shaped, and the right pupil was constricted.

The head CT took about 8 minute to complete. The results of the scan were interpreted quickly: there was a subdural hematoma in the left temporal lobe. The size of the bleed was definitely noteworthy, so the neurosurgeon wanted to drill a burr hole to alleviate the pressure in the cranium and then monitor Brooke with an intracranial pressure monitor to see if an additional surgery would be warranted.

Once the plan was made, Brooke was once again whisked away and back to the trauma bay for a quick burr hole and ICP monitor insertion. The procedure quickly commenced upon return to the ER. A portion of Brooke’s hair was shaved off on the left side and the pasty white skin was sterilized with a small amount of betadine. The neurosurgeon took a surgical drill and drilled 2 holes. The first one was made in the left temporal area to alleviate pressure and create immediate blood drainage. Thick, gooey blood oozed out of the small, circular hole in her skull after it was drilled. The coagulated blood was suctioned out, allowing proper release of the fresh blood from the active bleed. The 2nd hole was drilled in the left parietal area. The purpose of this 2nd hole was for insertion of an ICP monitor and to allow room for additional draining in the event the bleed worsened. After hole #2 was drilled, the ICP monitor was inserted and set up by the neurosurgeon, and a few small drainage tubes were inserted to help drain additional blood in an attempt to restore normal pressure within the skull. The next step of Brooke’s treatment was to take her to the OR for surgical reduction of both her femur fracture and humerus fracture.

Up in the OR, Brooke was hooked up 5o a ventilator and prepped for surgery. The anesthesiologist had some concerns about her blood pressure before surgery, so it was advised that trauma surgery would sit in on the surgery, and have neurosurgery on standby. With her BP still low, a repeat echocardiogram showed that the trace pericardial effusion had worsened in the past little while. Before the surgery started, the trauma surgeon performed an infrasternal pericardiocentesis. The quick procedure drained a decent amount of blood and slightly improved Brooke’s vitals, buying the surgical team enough time to work on the orthopedic injuries.

The orthopedic surgeon began with the humerus fracture. The original plan was to hold the bone in place with some plates and screws, but once the doctor got in there, they noticed damage to the proximal head of the humerus. When there’s damage to that portion of the bone, they have to replace it with a titanium joint that’s held in place with screws. Essentially, it’s like a hip replacement in your arm. It’s not a common situation, but it happens every so often, and the surgical team was prepared for that curveball. Part 2 of the orthopedic surgery was the femur repair. A long, thin metal rod was inserted into the femur after the medullary cavity of the bone was essentially scooped out. With the rod in place, the fractured portions of the bone were lined up and then held in place with small plates with titanium screws. Overall, the orthopedic portion of Brooke’s treatment went well, but since she was hemodynamically unstable and required monitoring for a head injury, she was sent off to the ICU for monitoring.

Brooke’s first few hours in the ICU were uneventful, but changes started to occur overnight. Around 3am, her blood pressure began to drop once again, along with an alternating QRS complex on the EKG. The ICU nurses decided to page a rapid response since the changes were concerning. When the trauma surgeon arrived, they pushed a round of vasopressors and hung 1 unit of FFP since there may be some residual bleeding and damage. The doctor’s next order was a repeat echocardiogram to monitor the progression of the pericardial effusion. The echo showed that Brooke was experiencing cardiac tamponade, so once again, an infrasternal pericardiocentesis was the way to go. The needle aspirated a combination of both clotted blood and fresh blood, but cardiovascular function slightly improved after the procedure. Brooke’s pupils were checked afterwards; they were sluggish but reactive, and the dynamic oval pupil was slowly going away. The ICP monitor was showing normalizing pressure in the skull, so it appeared the head injury was on a slow and steady course towards healing. The main concern was the chest injury at that point.

Approximately an hour later, Brooke began to struggle once again. Her blood pressure was still low and her chest tube output decreased. Upon further investigation, it was discovered that there was a blood clot lodged inside of her chest tube. Treatment for this is disconnecting the drainage portion of the chest tube and suctioning the lumen of the tube out until normal output returns. But when the tube drainage is disconnected in trauma patients (because a larger chest tube is required), you run the risk of re-aggravating the tension pneumothorax, so this has to be done rather quickly so excess air doesn’t get into the tube or the patient’s chest cavity.

With the trauma surgeon supervising, the drainage portion of the chest tube was disconnected. A suction tube was placed into the chest tube and the chunk of clotted blood about the size of a pea was slurped out, allowing normal flow and drainage to occur once again. But even after the chest tube was reconnected, Brooke’s blood pressure was still low. A 3rd echocardiogram was ordered, showing a sizable tamponade in the lateral portion of the pericardium. With this continuing to occur, and getting worse, the trauma surgeon decided to page cardiothoracic surgery and immediately take Brooke up to the OR for an exploratory thoracotomy and pericardial window.

While wheeling Brooke out of the ICU, her blood pressure suddenly became dangerously low. “shit, she’s gonna code. We need to get her up there ASAP!” the trauma surgeon blurted out with urgency. The ICU team wheeled Brooke through the corridors at full speed and into an available elevator. No more than a second after the elevator doors shut, Brooke became pulseless. The heart monitors showed pulseless electrical activity, so ACLS protocol promptly began. One nurse began pumping away at Brooke’s bare chest. The 22 year old's chest sunk deeply from the strength of each individual compression. Her chubby body and large, natural breast jiggled around a bit while another nurse injected epinephrine and atropine into one of the IV sites.

A nurse got on top of the gurney and began straddling the young woman, delivering strong, repetitive compressions. A few moments later, the elevator doors swung open and Brooke was wheeled out and into the main hallway of the OR floor. “whoa, what happened?” one of the nurses at the main nurses station asked, surprised to see an active code out in the open.

The team continued wheeling Brooke through the hall, compressions ongoing. Once in the correct operating room, the code was paused for a moment in order to transfer the woman onto the OR table. The monitors chirped loudly while Brooke’s limp body was transferred onto the table. Once on the table, CPR was restarted by one of the surgical nurses. “oh boy… what a mess. We’re gonna have to open her up ASAP. Get me a thoracotomy tray…” the head surgeon called out as they walked into the room. Since the heart monitors still showed PEA, CPR just went on. Redness and bruising started to form on the center of her chest in between both breasts due to all the hard compressions she was receiving. There was a popping sound that occurred during each individual compression since a few of her ribs became fractured or dislocated. The nurse that delivered compressions could feel Brooke’s cold, clammy skin through her gloves while everyone else in the room was scurrying around and barking orders at each other in what seemed like a moment of organized chaos.

While the surgical techs set up a thoracotomy tray, an OR nurse pushed the next round of intravenous meds since Brooke just crossed the 4 minute mark of the code. The meds didn’t have an immediate effect, but were able to convert Brooke to v-fib after approximately 45 seconds or so. With defib pads already attached to Brooke’s bare chest, they were charged to 200j and a shock was delivered. Brooke’s limp body jolted abruptly on the table in response to the quick dose of electricity. Since no change occurred, CPR resumed for several seconds until the defibrillator pads were recharged.

Seconds later, everyone backed away from the table and a 300j shock was delivered. Brooke’s back arched, forcing her chest up in the air, making her breasts bounce around. Shock #2 failed to convert Brooke from v-fib, so the surgeon took over and made the executive decision to open her chest via a left anterolateral thoracotomy.

Betadine was splashed across the left side of Brooke’s chest in a moment’s notice. With CPR ongoing just inches away, an incision was made in the 5th intercostal space. The cut began just to the left of Brooke’s sternum and extended laterally. The incision continued under her left breast, and ultimately came to a stop a few inches away from her left armpit. The next step was to separate and cut through the underlying tissue in order to create an opening for the rib spreader. This took about 15 or 20 seconds since it was done at a hurried pace. With that out of the way, the finochietto rib spreader was placed in the gaping cut, and the actual opening of the chest began. A cracking sound was heard regularly while the knobs were turned, forcing the 22 year old’s ribs apart.

The OR team was greeted by a rush of blood from the chest cavity upon cracking the chest. Suction was applied to the area and a 2nd chest tube was inserted for additional drainage. With the excess blood out of the way, a pericardiotomy was performed. A quick cut was made into the lining of the heart, which leaked a combination of fresh blood and coagulated blood. The incision in the pericardium was extended to deliver the heart more effectively, and a few small drains were placed into the incised portion of the pericardium for continuous tamponade drainage.

After these critical first few steps, external compressions were swapped out for internal massage. One of the doctors wrapped their hands around Brooke’s heart. They pushed hard and fast in an upwards motion with both their thumbs on the left ventricle in order to force blood through the aorta and out to the body. The doctor could feel Brooke’s heart twitching in their hands as they desperately attempted to reverse the dire situation.

V-fib still persisted after a cycle of internal compressions and another dose of meds, so the internal paddles were called for. The large, spoon shaped paddles were charged to 20j and placed directly against the desperate, spasming organ. After everyone backed away, the first internal shock was delivered. A dull, wet thump was heard, followed by her torso twitching a bit. Her heart fluttered for a second from the direct jolt of electricity, but it quickly returned to its erratic spasming from before. Internal compressions were resumed while a vascular clamp was placed on the descending aorta near the diaphragm. The purpose of this is to temporarily redirect bloodflow back to the heart, brain, and lungs since those organs are most essential. After the large vessel was clamped, the internal paddles were prepped once again, and placed around each side of the young woman’s heart. Shock #2 was a but stronger at 30 joules, causing more noticeable reaction. Brooke’s torso flopped slightly and her toes curled up, wrinkling the soles of her size 7.5 feet. This shock failed to correct the deadly arrhythmia, so resuscitation efforts went on. A cycle of internal massage was performed while the internal paddles were recharged to 40j. After the paddles were good to go, the third internal shock was delivered. The same dull thump as before filled the room for a moment while Brooke’s battered body twitched on the table. The monitors began chirping again, continuing to show v-fib.

The same cycle of internal compressions, shocking and meds continued again…and again…and again, but the OR team just couldn’t get their young patient’s heart to restart. Despite a 26 minute code, Brooke passed away in the OR, with her time of death being called at 5:02am. The monitors were switched off and the ambu bag was detached. Additional equipment such as the EKG electrodes and IVs were removed in the eerily silent OR. Brooke’s naked, battered body laid on the table. Her heart sat motionless in plain sight during the basic postmortem preparations. Eventually, the chest tubes were removed, the ICP monitor was taken out, and the chest was closed up. A cover was placed over Brooke’s body, and a toe tag was placed before sending her off to the hospital morgue, bringing a sad ending to the case.

[hongjoongslut]

VIP Access

a/n: this is my first attempt at this so im very sorry if it sucks :( 

Pairing: Boyfriend!Kim Hongjoong × Girlfriend!Reader

Word Count: 2.05k

Warnings: smut, choking, y/n having anxiety and getting a little insecure but hongjoong reassures her :)

enjoy!

Seeing how many fans Ateez attracted did not shock you. You usually stayed in the apartment due to your major social anxiety. This fansign was different, it was scheduled on your anniversary with the one and only Kim Hongjoong. "I know you have some bad anxiety but please baby? I'll make it up to you" he pleaded for you to go, ending with a wink. You let out a slight giggle before sighing heavily. "Okay honey, I'll go, but dont expec-" he immediately grabbed you and hugged you, lifting you off the ground. "Yes yes yes!!! Finally I can show everyone how truly amazing you are". He sets you down, noticing how red your face has turned. He just giggles and leaves to go shower. Tomorrow would be a big day, for both of you. 

"why does this signing have to be in the asscrack of dawn" you let out after grunting at his alarm. "Honey, it's at 10. Its 8:00 right now" he laughs at your sleepy state. "fine I'll get up now but I'm sleeping for the rest of the week after it's done" He shook your hand. "Deal, love".

It was not your event so you didnt have to dress very fancy. You did, however, want to look nice since this is a first time. 

"Babyyyy its 9:00, how far are you from being done?" he sang through the apartment. You walked out shortly after his little tune. You went with a nice short sleeve shirt that accentuated your chest, some black ripped jeans and your favorite black and white Vans. 

"How can you look so gorgeous wearing literally anything, y/n?" he walked towards you, smiling. "I'm the gorgeous one here? Look at yourself." He was wearing a stunning black suit with a sash over the front of it, very reminiscent of his Wonderland era. "I'm only wearing it since we just passed the year anniversary for the music video release, you know how I usually look when I go to these things." you smile and wrap your arms around his neck. "I love you no matter what you wear, but this is definitely a sexy look on you" he smirks and softly places his lips on yours. You move your hand to rub the back of his head, causing him to jump back. "you know where that gets you and we do not have the time to do all of that right now princess" you smirk. "I didn't do anything joongie. I was just caressing your head." Both of you knew what you were trying to do and surprisingly, he fell right into it. He smashed his lips onto yours, instantly colliding his tongue with yours. His hands held your hips tightly, likely leaving bruises. He breaks the moment, you whimpering at the loss of him. "c-can I try something y/n?? we've never done it before but I think you'll like it.." you tilt your head and slightly laugh. "joongie dont ever break a kiss for that. just do it, but if you hear our safe word then stop." you start the kiss this time, to gain the contact back and to see what he had planned. You could feel his right hand creep up from your hip, wrapping around your back to pull you closer, if that was possible. His hand rubbed your back for a moment before it sped to your throat. He applied no pressure yet, making sure you were okay with it. you smile into the kiss and moaned a little. The heat was stopped once again when his phone went off. "Shit, Mingi's here to pick us up." he walked with your hand entwined with his but pausing right before opening the front door. "but we will continue this later darling."

You have never seen so many people in one place before. Your heartbeat raced as you walked by all the screaming fans. Your body was on autopilot, just trying to find a quiet place to calm down. Once inside at their booth, you slightly calmed down. "I'm sorry our anniversary started out with a fansign, but this event ends at 12. After this, we can do whatever you want to do". he kissed your hand, rubbing the spot with his finger. 

It's been about an hour and a half and you haven't spoke much except when spoken to, whether by a fan or joongie. You can tell he was concerned about you but he didnt have enough time to help you entirely at the moment. He would squeeze your hand every once in a while, just to show he loves you. 

"Are you good y/n?" San asked after finishing one final picture with a fan. "Yes I'm okay San, I'm just very tired. I didnt get much sleep last night" he nodded and left to help clean up. The manager gave you and joongie permission to leave since it was a special day for you both. The ride home was loud and crazy. Mingi and Hongjoong laughing and smiling at everything they saw today. "baby, what's wrong? you've been off ever since they opened the doors. is it your anxiety?" 

You nod slightly and lean on his shoulder, not wanting to go into depth about it. he rubbed your shoulder until you guys arrived home. You both said your goodbyes to Mingi and walked into your safe space. "I know how your anxiety gets after big events so I will give you space, love. I'm gonna be in our room unfancing my appearance. Come find me or yell when you're ready" he kissed your head and left the living room.

You hated hiding stuff from him. It was your anxiety today, but for a different reason. you saw so many beautiful girls and you constantly questioned why he chose you. you weren't exactly in perfect shape, stretch marks covering your chest, stomach and thighs. He hasn't seen you like this often, but he did rarely catch it. Sometimes when you're walking and you're wearing jeans, you pull them up to hide some of your stomach. You had these thoughts everyday and it only got worse today. tears pricked your eyes, begging to be released. you gave in, letting them fall freely. you started sobbing, trying to keep as quiet as possible. you lay down on the couch and cry into the leather. you let out a loud sob, not realizing at first. Hongjoong ran into the room, grabbing your shoulders. you were so lost in pain, you didn't initially hear him. 

"Baby what's wrong? what happened? are you okay?" he is firing these questions at you and your mind finally breaks. you quickly sit up, staring at him through blurred vision. "you saw all of those girls, joongie! what's so special about me? im not talented like they are. im not in shape. i don't see why you chose me instead of one of the million girls you saw today!" your voice cracks and you crumble into his arms. "Y/n, why didn't you mention this sooner?" all you could reply was sobs. he sat with you, rubbing your back until your breathing evened out. "So you want to know why i chose you?" you nod lightly. "I first fell for your looks. You do not need to compare yourself to anyone's shape baby. I love you for you. Then I got to know you, I fell in love with your personality. Baby you're so amazing, everything you do makes me fall in love more." you look up and start smiling. He grabs your chin and kissed your forehead. "Another thing," he lowered his head to meet your eyes. "none of those girls have a pussy that can make me feel as good as yours does." your face turned a red shade. "no one in this world can make me weak in my knees just from wearing a shirt, jeans and Vans. you are everything I want, and much more than I deserve" he kissed you, not knowing the heat his words just caused. you broke the kiss to straddle him, not letting him ask anything before kissing him again. You held his cheeks, savoring each and every inch of his tongue. He pushed you away, catching his breath. "what was all that about baby?" you could start to feel his hard on through your jeans. "you wanna show me a reason not to be insecure? You said you'd make it up to me if I went and our little 'event' before the signing would be continued when we got home. But if you dont want to, that's fi-" his hand wrapped around your neck, adding pressure to it. "princess, ive been thinking about fucking you ever since you decided to tease me earlier." he then realized his hand was squeezing and pulled it away instantly. "im sorry baby are you okay i didnt realize I was doin-" you put your finger on his mouth. You stood to take off your jeans and shirt, letting him enjoy the view. "if you wanna show me I dont need to be insecure, then mark me. fuck me until i cannot remember how to speak. once again, if you dont hear that safe word, then keep going." he sat with his jaw dropped. he swiftly stood up to remove his tshirt and his boxers. you unclip your bra and take off your panties, throwing them away from you. he grabbed your hips and picked you up with no struggle. He carried you to your shared bedroom and set you on the sheets. he attacks your neck, making you moan right on contact. his free hand slips down to your pussy, feeling your juices leak around his fingertips. He lifts his hand and licks them clean. "so much already baby...god you taste so fucking good." his lips leave your neck to kiss your chest, leaving more hickeys. "all of this beauty...all for me." you moan as he attacks your nipple. "fuck that feels amazing.." he hums before giving the other fair treatment. he kissed slowly down your stomach, rubbing the sides. "one of my favorite parts of you.." you start to smile before it turns into a moan. he dives into your pussy, lapping inside of you and rubbing your sensitive nub. "fuck hongjoong, just fuck me already, please." he leaves a light kiss on your clit before kissing your lips roughly. he teases your entrance with his head, making you grunt impatiently. he enters you slowly, watching your head slowly lean back as he fills you. "fuck y/n, how are you still so tight..." he grunts as he slowly sets a pace. he fills you so perfectly, you could cum right there. "f-faster baby, pl-please" he rammed his hips into yours, hearing nothing but your screams and skin slapping. "see, nobody can sound as-as pretty as you do when you moan" you smile momentarily before grabbing his hand and placing it on your throat. "god I love you...i love you so fucking much" he squeezes your throat, a high pitch moan escaping at the sensation. "I'm s-so close joongi-e." he kisses you, swallowing your moans as they come out. "Also princess, remember no girl gets to be fucked so good by me, you have VIP access..." With that sentence, you saw stars, your juices coating his twitching cock. "fuck princess!" you feel your walls being painted with his cum. He pulls out, viewing your marked and fucked out figure.  He hands you a tshirt and clean underwear to change into while he goes to the kitchen. while he was gone, you walked up to your mirror, staring at your body. he walked behind you, hugging you tightly. "look how beautiful you look in my clothes...even after being fucked" he giggled and you let out a slight smile. "come on beauty, let's get to bed. i know you want to sleep in tomorrow." you jumped on the bed, laughing as hongjoong followed. "i promise baby, you'll always have me."

THE END

[onsgiftexchange]

A Kiss Full of Petals

Hiya, Thea (LavenRain96) is here with her present to her secret santa, Devin ( @devinthedragondraws )~! I hope you’ll like this! :D

To be honest, I never heard of this event until my own circle of friends mentioned it in Twitter and Discord. I initially didn’t want to join with how busy I am as of late, but I was like: “You know what? F*** it, let’s make someone happy.”. Thus, I joined. To my pleasant surprise, my secret santa likes reading angst with a happy ending, or something that makes their heart swoon. That, and they also like sweet confessions and something that the characters are recovering from. So with that in mind, I wrote a mini-fic about the Hanahaki Disease (ngl I want to write this AU for some time now, and I’m glad that I get to do so in this way) and I had so much fun writing this, even though I admit that it feels a bit rushed (I apologize ;;;;;).

But anyway, once again, this is for you, Devin. Please enjoy!

—

The smell of cleanliness was quite pungent to Mikaela’s nose, reminding him almost every day of where he was. The white walls, the fine sheets and the IV on his arm even contributed to this fact… and he hated it. It felt like he was hidden away from the world, quarantined in the hospital all for the sake of healing. However, with how serious his disease was getting, it was inevitable that he would end up in the very place he dreaded on staying.

That was just how the world works; the one where the sickness known as the Hanahaki Disease exist.

Mikaela shrugged it off as a bluff at first with how fictitious the said disease was, especially with its low pathogenicity. But given his current circumstances as of late, he couldn’t deny that the disease was, in fact, real, and that he was feeling it in the most painful way imaginable.

He couldn’t speak properly—even something as simple as breathing proved to be an excruciating task for him without him coughing badly in return. Such things tend to put a strain on his throat that ruined his vocal chords and left a burning sensation that would take hours to calm down.

The flower petals that he spit out, though beautiful, didn’t do anything to lift his mood since the very sight of them clearly meant that he was near death’s door in each passing day. The thought of dying alone with this disease was something Mikaela couldn’t dream of imagining.

It must have been lonely to die like this, was the first thing that came to mind before his thoughts drifted to his childhood friend and crush, Yuuichirou.

Unfortunately, his thoughts were immediately halted as he suddenly felt a sudden surge from his throat, prompting him to cough harshly against his hand. It lasted for a few seconds, but for Mikaela, it felt like an eternity until his lungs slowly pave way to the tranquility from before. The hand on his mouth was shaking but it held firm— it was a simple way to try and soothe the after effect of his coughs. However, the fear of looking at the outcome of yet another violent episode of his disease also sustained him from moving his hand away.

The thick wetness and the soft, satin-like texture on his skin was something that Mikaela was already used to. It was so common to the point that it was embedded into his everyday life, but a part of himself was still in disbelief, still in denial that this was happening to him. His stubborn side persistently refused to acknowledge this. It wouldn’t just go and accept the fact that his love for Yuuichirou was slowly killing him. To do so would admittedly mean that loving the very man who had been with him through thick and thin was a mistake. A large, fatal mistake.

Mikaela knew better than to regard Yuuichioru as such. He may be flawed in some parts of himself, but that wasn’t enough to make Mikaela love him any less. To Mikaela, Yuuichirou was his everything. He was his best friend, his family, his confidant, his partner-in-crime…

… But why was loving him so damn painful?

Mikaela knew the answer to that well. It was a hard pill to swallow in a consistent pace, but for Yuuichirou’s sake, he gladly took it with a smile, even at the cost of his own happiness and health.

As long as Yuu-chan is happy, it’s enough, Mikaela reminded himself as he finally lowered his hand to reveal a streak of blood, and a small handful of red and white flower petals. The bloodied sight brought a heart-wrenching smile on Mikaela’s face before he sighed softly and aimlessly dropped the petals on the floor.

He felt a little sorry for giving his nurse some extra work to handle, but as of now, he didn’t care anymore. His hope to continue living with his most cherished person was starting to dwindle.

~ 0 ~

“I will not tolerate this behavior, Mika.” Krul stated firmly with her arms crossed as she looked at Mikaela with a frown, “I finally found a compatible lung donor for you, and I won’t waste this opportunity just because you refuse to let go of your feelings for Yuuichirou.”

Mikaela looked away in defiance, his brows furrowed with equal anger.

Krul sighed while she softened up just a bit, “Listen, I know that you like him, but Mika… Is he really worth dying for? You have a future ahead of you and it will surely hurt Yuuichirou if you die now. Haven’t you thought of that?”

“ I don’t care, ” Mikaela wrote on his mini white board Krul provided him with as a form of communication. “ I will not allow my lungs to be replaced by somebody else’s. ”

“Don’t be so stubborn. You know well what will happen if you don’t get operated soon.” Krul exasperated before she stood up from her seat, still frowning due to Mikaela’s lack of cooperation. “I’ll set up the appointment right away. Whether you like it or not, you’re going to have that surgery. We’ve waited long enough.”

Mikaela opened his mouth to voice a protest, having forgotten for a moment that his vocal chords were on the verge of being destroyed if he add anymore strain on them. However, whatever he wanted to say died in his throat when a knock was heard on his room door, pausing his thoughts.

“Hey, Mika…!” Yuuichirou greeted cheerfully with a wide grin as he opened the door. His smile faltered slightly upon seeing that Mikaela wasn’t alone in the room, and that there was tension in the atmosphere. He clearly knew right then and there that he entered at such a bad time.

“… Oh, um, hello to you too, Krul-san.” He awkwardly addressed with a respectful bow towards Krul. “Did I interrupt on something? If so, I could just—”

“—It’s quite alright, Yuu-kun.” Krul acknowledged with a small wave of her hand. “In fact, I was just about to leave. I’ve already said what I want to Mika very clearly regarding his operation.”

“Operation?” Yuuichirou repeated in confusion before his face lit up. “No way! You’ve found a donor?!”

“Yes, Mika is going to get his surgery soon. He’ll be cured in no time..” Krul confirmed but her words only made Mikaela angry. How dare she just brush off his feelings for Yuuichirou as if it was nothing but a burden on her shoulders? If Yuuichirou wasn’t in the room, Mikaela would likely throw a tantrum and be forcefully restrained on the bed until he calmed down.

“That’s great news, Mika. I’m so happy for you.” Yuuichirou cheered with a smile on his face, completely oblivious towards Mikaela’s dilemma. “It must really suck to be coughing almost every day. I mean, when was the last time you talked properly? Oh, and I really miss your voice. So with the surgery on the way, everything will be back to where it was.”

Hearing that, Mikaela didn’t know if he should cry or be offended with what Yuuichirou just said. Either way, it was heartbreaking to know that those words were coming out from his friend’s mouth, and it seemed that sadness won over his emotions as Mikaela was blinking away the tears that were trying to fall from his eyes.

Mikaela’s bravado from before slowly disappeared, replacing itself with sorrow as he took Yuuichirou’s enthusiasm for his recovery as a sign of rejection. An innocent one, and yet it stabbed deep like a knife in his heart.

But, still… Mikaela smiled, masking his hurting.

“ You’re right, Yuu-chan. ” Mikaela wrote down in his white board. His once straight and confident handwriting was now dissolved into something soft and shaky. “ Once my surgery is done, I can go to school again and be with you guys. I must have brought you a lot of trouble. ”

“Nah, don’t be sorry, Mika.” Yuuichirou shook his head in consideration before he took a seat on Mikaela’s bed, “As long as you’re well again after all these days, this is nothing. The Shinoa squad will continue to wait and support you until the very end.”

Mikaela couldn’t help but feel a tinge at that sentence. It wasn’t that he was ungrateful for his friends to worry about his health, but truth be told, the squad had nothing to do with his illness at all and Mikaela wished Yuuichirou would put them aside even for just a little bit. He knew that it was selfish to even think about that, but Yuuichirou had been his friend ever since they were kids. So, shouldn’t he have more priority over them?

No, don’t think that. This is enough. This is enough…

Mikaela encouraged himself that the attention he was receiving was already sufficient. There was no room to be greedy in a situation like this, especially when he was on the verge of dying. Any kind of attention, though brief and pitiful, was more than plenty. He could make do with that.

“Well then, I shall take my leave now that I have Mika’s consent on the operation. Take care of him in my stead, Yuu-kun.” Krul requested with care. Whether she was aware of how Yuuichirou’s words affected Mikaela or not, she didn’t show it and kept her expression unreadable.

“Sure thing, Krul-san.” Yuuichirou agreed with a nod before turning his attention back to Mikaela once Krul left. “Man, it’s been a long while since we’re alone like this, don’t you think?”

Mikaela smiled in nostalgia as he wrote down, “ I agree… ”

Yuuichirou chuckled in reply before he settled in a comfortable silence with Mikaela, staring down on his friend’s white board and his handwriting. Without a word, Yuuichirou reached a hand out and placed it a top of Mikaela’s, prompting the latter to look at him with a raised brow.

“Sorry for being sudden, but… I’m just happy.” Yuuichirou explained himself softly. His face showed nothing but a serene smile. “I wasn’t lying when I said I missed your voice. I may find it annoying sometimes with how you keep on nagging me to do stuff, but your voice is… I find it nice.”

… Huh?

Mikaela’s eyes rounded in surprise at Yuuichirou’s sudden confession. He liked his voice? Mikaela didn’t really see anything special with his voice. That was just how it was—ordinary and plain. For Yuuichirou to admit that he found his voice pleasant made Mikaela’s heart thump just a bit. It didn’t even help that there was an obvious blush on Yuuichirou’s cheeks after his confession.

“W-Well, you sing really good, so it’ll be a waste if you just let it wither away with this disease of yours. The kids in the orphanage will be sad.” Yuuichirou added on, but it only served to further heighten his embarrassment.

“ How about you, Yuu-chan? Will you be sad? ” Mikaela couldn’t help but write the question down out of curiosity.

“O-Of course, I’ll be sad. Don’t make me repeat myself, Mika. Geez…” Yuuichirou nearly shrieked with a frown and his face bloomed red like a tomato.

Mikaela chuckled at Yuuichirou’s reaction. The look on his face reminded him back in the days where Mikaela would often tease Yuuichirou just for the sake of getting on his nerves. Now that they were older, that teasing became one of his forms of endearment for Yuuichirou, and Mikaela would wonder from time to time if Yuuichirou even took notice of it.

“Anyway…” Yuuichirou’s voice cut through Mikaela’s thoughts. “Even though I’m happy that you’ll get a surgery and recover soon… I feel sorry for his person you have unrequited feelings with. I mean, you’re smart and handsome. Anyone would practically beg on their knees to date you, you know… That person must be lucky to have caught your eye.”

And that person happens to be you., was what Mikaela wanted to say but he held back out of fear that Yuuichirou might react badly at having another man like him that way. From what Mikaela understood as of late, Yuuichirou and Shinoa have a… thing for each other. The hints were subtle, but Mikaela could tell that Shinoa had a major crush on Yuuichirou. Yuuichirou, on the other hand, still kept treating her normally to the point that it was impossible to know if he liked her back or not.

But even if that was the case, that didn’t change the fact that Mikaela still chose to hide his feelings because he valued his friendship with Yuuichirou so much. He would rather risk his health than his relationship. But with how he was going to be removing his disease surgically, shouldn’t he make the most out of now? Mikaela could always tell Yuuichirou that he was joking in the end since Yuuichirou identified Mikaela to be a trickster at certain points in their lives.

It was a low move, but Mikaela was becoming desperate. He wanted to at least kiss Yuuichirou before his feelings for him were gone—forcefully and painfully taken away from him during surgery. He may not remember the kiss after the operation, but he at least told Yuuichirou how he felt albeit masked within a joke.

With an intake of breath, Mikaela then wrote down on his white board what he wanted to say, “ Hey, Yuu-chan. Before my operation, can I tell you something? ”

Yuuichirou read Mikaela’s message before he nodded, “Of course. What is it, Mika?”

Without writing anything back, Mikaela leaned close to Yuuichirou and planted a kiss on his cheek. His warm lips met soft skin briefly before he pulled back with one of his usual, teasing smiles—ready for Yuuichirou’s outburst.

However, Yuuichirou’s reaction was anything but what Mikaela expected. Yuuichirou was looking at him in surprise before it changed into a small frown. Mikaela blinked and waved his hands a bit to clearly tell that the kiss was nothing but a joke, but Yuuichirou clearly wasn’t buying it.

“… Shut up.”, were the words that left Yuuichirou’s mouth before he reached and grabbed Mikaela’s hospital gown before he leaned close and landed a kiss on Mikaela’s mouth, bruising it with how rough he was.

Mikaela jumped in shock and pushed Yuuichirou away for a bit to put some distance in between them. When they pulled apart, Mikaela noticed a flower petal hanging loosely on Yuuichirou’s lips—a blue rose petal that held the same shade as his own eyes. The sight of it rendered Mikaela speechless, and his silence only spurred a blush to grace Yuuichirou’s cheeks once again.

“Yeah, I have it too… because I thought you love someone else,” Yuuichirou confessed as he took the slightly wet flower petal on his lips. “It’s not as bad as yours, but… yeah…”

Yuuichirou looked away shyly, unable to say anything next now that he just outrightly admitted to like Mikaela that way. Fortunately for Yuuichirou, no words were needed to be said as Mikaela gently cupped his face and kissed him again. Unlike when Yuuichirou did it roughly and in a blinding rush, this one was full of passion and love—silently telling emotions that were kept hidden away for so long.

The taste of flowers in his mouth was unavoidable, and yet despite that, Mikaela felt so light that he could feel himself breathing freely.

“… Yuu-chan,” Mikaela rasped in a crooked voice, which surprised Yuuichirou.

“Mika, your voice… It’s back.”

“Oh…” Mikaela blinked in amazement upon realizing that his voice was back, even though it sounded a bit different now after all the pressure that disease gave it. Nevertheless, his eyes stained in unshed tears of joy. “My voice… Yuu-chan, it’s—”

Before Mikaela could say any more words, Yuuichirou claimed his lips again in a soulsearing kiss, effectively silencing him as words couldn’t express the happiness the other was feeling. Mikaela merely just closed his eyes in silent acceptance before he wrapped his arms around Yuuichirou and returned the kiss in full, allowing them to enjoy their intimate time together as they healed each other through a kiss that was full of petals.

[tikitm]

hiiii

ive been getting back into the writing groove by writing small drabbles and little one shots here and there - but @owo-uwu-begonethot gave me this prompt and i wrote a little something for it and it actually came out reall well !! its a 5 +1, but its not that long i swear.

i wasn’t sure if i should post it on AO3 so we’ll see 

enjoy ^^

5 Times Peter Asked For A Hug and 1 Time He Didn’t Have To

1. Tony Stark

“Sad” wasn’t a word one would usually use to describe Peter Parker.

Peter Parker was an optimistic, always-smiling kid who always went above and beyond for the people he loved - he was rarely upset. He was like a breath of fresh air to all the people in the compound because he would never, ever let a rainy day ruin the mood. A simply smile went a long way - Tony had noticed this with his time with Peter.

But sometimes he forgot that Peter was just a kid - a kid who had been through way too much for his age. A kid who needed comfort too.

And that fact hit Tony square in the face when the kid - his kid - walks into the living room with his eyes red-rimmed and tear tracks on his cheeks. Tony couldn’t do anything more than watch as Peter stumbled over to him, his head down and his breaths jumpy and shaky.

“...Kid?” Tony spoke cautiously, as if talking to a wild animal. He waited patiently for a response, watching as Peter wiped his eyes and looked up, but didn’t meet Tony’s eyes.

“C… can I please have a hug?” The teenager asked horsley, and Tony freezed up a bit.

He… never really ‘did’ hugs. Tony had never received a lot of hugs when he was a child, so he just grew up thinking that he didn’t really need to hug. Besides the occasional hugs from Pepper, he wouldn’t let anyone else hug him.

But…

Seeing Peter - the kid he had sworn to protect - crying and asking for something he wouldn’t normally ask for, and looking so upset…

Tony bit back a sigh and opened his arms, his heart cracking just a little bit as a choked sob made its way out of Peter’s throat. The teenager then tucked himself into Tony, wrapping his arms around the man as he hugged back.

“Damn, kid… you’re making me go soft.” Tony whispered jokingly, smiling a little when a small laugh sounded from Peter. After that, he went silent, nothing making noise aside from the small sniffles and sobs from the boy. Tony began to card his fingers through Peter’s hair, hoping it would bring some kind of comfort to him, and bit back a laugh when Peter seemed to melt into him more.

Tony would find out what was bothering him later. For now, he would just stay here like this, with his kid, giving Peter the comfort he needed.

And that was enough.

2. Steve Rogers

Steve found Peter in the training room at 3 in the morning, hitting a punching bag with all the force he could muster. From the distance, Steve thought he was just training (but why would he be up at this hour??), but as he got closer, he could see the tears that were running down Peter’s cheeks. With a small cry (of rage?? Sorrow?? Steve couldn’t tell.), Peter landed a hard blow on the punching bag and sent it flying across the room.

Peter heaved in breaths as he stood in the middle of the room, looking so impossibly small and sad. Steve couldn’t just stand there and do nothing, so he cleared his throat and stood a little straighter, calling out to the boy softly.

“Peter-” He stopped when Peter whipped his head around, clearly alarmed. “...hey. What are you doing up so late?” Steve managed to soften his voice a little more in an effort to calm Peter down - make him realize that he was in no immediate danger.

“Heh. Hi Mister Captain America Steve Rogers, sir.” Peter wiped his eyes in a vain attempt to hide the tears. “I just couldn’t sleep. I guess that’s why you’re down here, too?”

“...you’re right.” Steve smiled, albeit awkwardly and weakly, and moved to take a couple of steps forward. “But you’re a growing boy, you know. You need sleep.”

“...You sound like Tony.” Peter mumbled, and even though there was a smile on his face, it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Steve suppressed a small sigh and put his hand on Peter’s shoulder, internally wincing when the teenager flinched a tiny bit.

“...What’s bothering you, Peter?” Steve asked softly, not expecting the second wave of fresh tears that had suddenly washed over Peter. Peter sniffled, and the next words that came out of his mouth really caught Steve off-guard.

“...Can I please have a hug?” Peter whimpered, scrubbing at his face rather harshly.

Steve would be damned if he didn’t give this kid a hug.

And the fact that the boy was so small caught up to him when Peter got swallowing up by Steve’s arms, practically disappearing when he melted into the hug.

3. Natasha

Natasha didn’t exactly do… emotions.

(Well - that was one way to put it.)

Being trained and brought up as an assassin, Natasha was always taught that you had to suppress your feelings in order to get through a mission - nothing could stop you from getting to the goal that you set and that you had.

However, ever since moving in with the only family she’d ever had, she was beginning to open up more - she was beginning to learn how to express herself more.

And that all started with a little someone name Peter Parker who also happened to be a spider.

(That was the first thing he had said to her after he got over his initial shock - ‘hey! We’re both spiders! Isn’t that cool?!’)

Natasha had found the boy sniffling to himself in the kitchen as he grabbed a cup with shaking hands from the cabinet above him. The Black Widow found herself frowning as she walked into the kitchen casually, not really sure how to attack this problem, but determined to nonetheless.

“Hey, Parker.” She said lowly, and Peter jumped in surprise. He blinked, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

“O-oh! Hello, Miss Black Widow Natasha, m’am. Miss.” He said quickly, blinking rapidly as if to stop his tears from spilling over. She offered him a small smile and reached for a cup herself, trying to remain casual. Maybe if they just talked, he would feel better? Clint would just talk to her when she felt a bit… down. Maybe this would work for Peter?

“What drink are you going to get? I was thinking a cup of water for myself.” Natasha said, albeit awkwardly, walking over to the refrigerator to fill her cup.

“...I-I was actually just going to get some apple juice,” Peter replied from behind her, his voice all shaky and wobbly. Natasha frowned once more and turned around to face the teenager who wouldn’t even look her in the eye.

“...what’s the matter, Peter?”

There was a small period of silence where none of them said anything, the only noise being Natasha slowly putting her cup down on the counter. Should she have gone for the direct approach? That was a bad idea, it see-

“...Can I please have a hug, Miss Natasha?” Peter asked weakly, finally looking at her in the eyes.

A hug? Natasha wasn’t sure if she was the most qualified for a hug, but… when she looked at Peter, a surge of… protectiveness (??) swelled in her chest. He was always so… bright and happy. It was time for someone to make him feel safe.

So, she smiled. “Of course, Peter.”

She wrapped her arms around him gently, giving him room to step back if need be. After a couple of seconds of sniffles, she whispered quietly, “I got you, паук.”

And even thought Peter probably didn’t know what that meant, it made him cry even harder.

4. Bruce

Bruce had never met anyone who had been excited to see him for him and not the Hulk.

And yet, when he first met Peter Parker, the boy had almost thrown up with excitement.

Peter was a science nerd, it was obvious, and went on and on about how he had read all of Bruce’s lab reports and papers on every single research topic he did, and how he used them for multiple school assignments.

Peter was busy with school a lot (God knows how he kept up with both school and Spider-Man), which was why Bruce wasn’t very surprised when he found Peter on the floor of the labs with multiple papers scattered around him. What he was surprised about, though, was the constant flow of tears that made their way down Peter’s face.

“Peter!’ Bruce couldn’t stop himself before he exclaimed the boy’s name, causing Peter to whip around, his eyes wide and his lip quivering. Bruce realized his error almost immediately.

“O-oh, Doctor Banner, I’m sorry, I’ll get out of your hair right now I promise let me just pick up all of your papers-” Peter said, panicked as he scrambled to pick up all of his papers.

“No, no, no, Peter, don’t-” Bruce quickly made his way over to stop Peter, letting out a small sigh when he managed to stop the boy. “I’m fine with you staying here. But what’s the matter? Is it something in your homework?”

Peter shook his head and let all his papers fly to the floor, looking down at his feet. He opened his mouth, closed it again, shuddered and wrapped his arms around himself. “...Can I have a hug? Please?” He asked quickly, as if he was ashamed of of the question.

“...Of course, Peter.” Bruce didn’t even hesitate - Peter had shown such kindness to him. There was no way he was just going to leave Peter hanging to dry by himself.

Peter let out a small, soft sob and allowed himself to be enveloped in a hug from the Doctor, relaxing when Bruce began to shush him and rub his back.

“It’s okay… it’s okay…”

5. Clint

“Hey, Spider-Child, I’ve been looking all over for - you…” Clint’s cheery hop-in from the vents into the living room was stopped abruptly when he caught sight of the teenager, laying in the fetal position on the couch and crying silently.

Clint was at a loss. He wasn’t sure whether he should just turn like nothing ever happened (it would spare Parker the ‘embarrassment’ of having someone see him cry), or he could stay and try to comfort the boy.

The parent in him pushed the first option away immediately. He couldn’t abandon a crying child and leave them all alone - whenever there was someone crying, comforting had to be done, and Clint wasn’t about to just hightail it out of there to give Peter privacy.

They were a team - and team sticks together like glue.

Like a family.

“Oh, shhhhhooot, Parker.” Clint winced at himself - winced at how phony and awkward he sounded. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Hey Peter, bud - want to talk about it?” He sat on the edge of the couch, close enough so that he could see Peter, but far enough that if Peter wanted to sit up, or get up to leave, he could do so.

Peter remained silent, so Clint just kept on talking. “I know times can get tough, bud, but you have to come to talk to one of us when you do. We’re here for you. And I know it’s hard to adapt to that, but you really have to understand that. You can’t just bottle things up and hope they’ll go away - and we’ll talk to you. I’m always available! I’ll show you my secret place in the vents!” He lowered his voice at the last part, smiling when Peter gave a small, watery laugh. Clint’s smiled softened as he reached over and rested his hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Do you need anything?”

There was a small moment of silence before the question was asked: “Can I please have a hug?”

Without skipping a beat, Clint replied: “Of course, bud. Sit up, though. I don’t want to lay on you and crush you for a hug.”

(Clint was 99% sure Peter could hear the swell of happiness in his chest when Peter laughed in reply and allowed the archer’s arms to encircle him.)

+1. Thor

“Ah! If it isn’t the Man of Spiders!” Thor’s voice boomed and echoed through the hallway as electric eyes settled on the small figure walking down the hallway. This ‘small figure’ seemed to flinch a little bit, but Thor carried on, passing it off as the initial shock of hearing his loud voice. “Tell me, spiderling - how has your day been? Care to sit on the couch with me and watch The Show of Friends? Tony tells me that it is very funny!”

There was a small passing moment of silence, and Thor was about to repeat himself, but a small voice stopped him from doing so.

“...w-with all due respect, Mister Thor,” Peter’s voice sounded… weird. Like he was trying to hold back a sob. “No thank you. M-maybe another time?” The teenager still hadn’t turned around, much to Thor’s dismay.

And Thor knew that something was 100% wrong.

“...Talk to me, Man of Spiders. Perhaps we could chat about what ails you over a nice cup of tea or hot chocolate. Trust me, keeping things to yourself is never the answer!” Thor jogged so that he was right behind Peter with a bright grin on his face. There was another passing moment with absolute silence. Peter had not moven from his spot except for the small tremors that shook his shoulders. “Please, turn around so we can talk-”

With a heaving sigh (that sounded suspiciously like a sob), Peter turned around, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater. “N-no thank you, Mister Thor. I promise I’m fine, I just have something in my eye.”

Thor frowned. He wasn’t emotionally inept! The Man of Spiders was hurting! And he had to do something - such a precious child could not be upset! So, before thinking things through, Thor enveloped Peter in a hug that left him enough room to move away if he wanted to, but tight enough so that he could feel safe. If someone was crying, that meant they didn’t feel safe and was upset, right? Comfort was in order!

To Thor’s surprise, Peter began to laugh hysterically. Then, as he suspected, those laughs began to dissolve into small sobs, then Peter began to sob openly, clutching onto Thor’s shirt with his hands. Thor shushed him softly, reaching up to rub his back in small, slow circles.

“I have you, Peter. Everything is going to be okay. I promise.”

[dream-of-kpop]

House of memories PT. 1

Pairing: Kim mingyu X reader

Genre: Angst, some fluff I suppose

Warnings: None

Hey guys it’s me admin az as y’all know this is my first Fan fiction sorta so I would like feed back thank you hope you enjoy 💛

Also heads up the italics are flashbacks :) also it might be a tad bit confusing. MAYBE

You don’t know how long you’ve been sitting in the dark cold silence.

You don’t know how long you have been crying, dealing with this awful heartbreak.

Kim mingyu the love of your life was gone, he had left you. He was perfect for you and now you had no one. You layed down on the floor and just stared at the ceiling, bawling your eyes out.

You were walking home late at night admiring the view of the city when it had just started raining hard. “Why am I not surprised.” You sighed and put up your hoodie. You didn’t really mind the rain since you thought it was beautiful and entrancing and continued walking. After a few minutes the rain died down little by little yet you were soaked. An hour later you have arrived to your shared house with mingyu.

“Hey baby.” He walked over from the kitchen and proceeded to hug you. “Why are you wet? Oh god did you walk from work?” He asked you and you nodded and smiled.

“Why?” He asked, tilting his head to one side and chuckled.

“It was pretty outside plus it started raining I would’ve called you but I enjoyed it.” You smiled at him, removed your shoes and hoodie then gave him a hug back.

“Not surprised.” He laughed and looked down at you and gave you his killer smile.

‘Damn that smile’ you thought and wiped the fresh new tears pouring out of your eyes. You got up from the floor where you were laying down and opened the windows of your room and looked outside. That same view that you had shared with him.

“I hate this house.” You said, your voice wavering and walked away from the windows.

“Y/N! Happy birthday to you happy birthday to you happy birthday happy birthday happy birthday to you!” All of mingyus friends sang to you at your birthday and you enjoyed it. You tried no to cry at the thought that they had thrown you a surprise party at your apartment.

“Make a wish!” Soonyoung exclaimed and you smiled at him then looked at mingyu and he was smiling at you too.

“Go ahead beautiful.” He mouthed and your smile grew even larger. You blew out the candles and everyone applauded around you. You felt special that day because these were your friends who you never even thought they would remember your birthday.

“What did you wish for?” Everybody asked in unison which kind of scared you.

“What’s the point in me telling you guys if its my wish. You know you’re not supposed to share wishes right?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Why?” Seungkwan asked.

“Because if you do they might not come true.” You shrugged and smiled at him.

“Key word Might.” Mingyu said and you turned to him. He still had that smile on his face. That cunning smile.

“I’m still not telling you.” You smiled at him.

“Just tell us! There’s no harm in doing that plus it might still happen.” He said and the rest agreed. You sighed and were about to open your mouth to talk.

“Unless it’s something embarrassing.” Jun waves his eyebrows suggesting something. You hit him in the arm and you both laugh.

“It’s not it just-“ you looked away and started blushing. “I just want it to happen.” You murmured and they smiled.

“Tell us and it might happen you never know.” Mingyu states again and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes in a playful way.

“Okay okay,” you sighed in defeat “my wish was... to live with mingyu for the rest of my life.” You looked away and started blushing even more. All the boys around the table stared ‘oooing’ and you blushed even more.

Mingyu as well turned away and blushed but he just smiled and walked away. You looked up then looked at Wonwoo his best friend.

“Did I do something wrong?” You asked worry lacing your voice. He just shook his head and smiled at you. “Nope nothing wrong at all.” A few moments later mingyu appeared again and walked towards you holding a large rectangular jewelry box of a sort in hand. Your heart started beating at 127 mph and your mind racing with thoughts. ‘It’s too large to be engagement ring but too small to be a necklace.’ You thought. ‘What is it hejekdjd.’ You thought again. Mingyu stood next to you and smiled.

“Now y/n, Ive been thinking about this for a while and I figured I would ask you on your birthday.” He breathed in. “Your wish was to live with me for the rest of your life and mines is to be there for you forever and make you happy.” He opened the box there were a two sets of rings and keys. You started tearing up. “These are promise rings,” he puts the box down and takes your left hand “and I promise that I will put a beautiful engagement ring on this sooner or later I promise that I’ll make you the happiest person alive in the world no matter what it takes.” You we’re crying at this point, trying to dry your tears. He was about to slip on the ring when he nearly dropped it. Everyone chuckled while he muttered a quick sorry. He slipped on the the ring and kissed your hand then stood up. You looked at the ring and admired it it had your initials on the outside and it looked simple yet beautiful. You turned to him and cried once more. He lifted his hand and dried your tears then kissed you. It felt so right at that moment, you wished that you could pause it and savor it forever. “You’re so beautiful even when you cry.” He stayed and you laughed.

“How is that possible.” You laughed again and everyone around you smiled staring at both of you in awe. Seungkwan and Soonyoung both had tears in their eyes.

“What are the keys for?” You asked glancing at the keys while hugging him, burying your side of your face in his chest.

“It’s our new house.” He said excitement in his voice and you looked up.

“You didn’t! Oh my god Kim Mingyu!” You exclaimed and he nodded while laughing. You jumped in Happiness hugging him so tight you had thought you hurt him. Everyone started cheering and yelling in happiness. Minutes later the cheering had died down and you were tired.

“Soooooo,” Soonyoung stated “can we have cake now?” He asked and you smiled instantly. “Yep!” You said and proceeded to start cutting slices of cake, making sure to be careful of your ring. Mingyu passed the slices and everybody started eating the cake. You turned to mingyu and he hugged you. “Happy birthday love.” He kissed your cheek and you hugged him tighter. “This is the best birthday ever.” You whispered and smiled, calming down. “Thank you.”

You walked around the house. It was huge in all honesty the bedroom was huge, the living room was beautiful. Everything was amazing when you two had first moved in but now it’s too large for you. It was silent. You walked into the kitchen hoping to try and eat something. It was still dark but you knew where things were. You reached into the fridge and pulled out milk then went to a cabinet got a bowl and cereal. Your eyes were tired after all the crying and you honestly just wanted to sleep.

“So this is how heart break feels huh.” You hugffed and laughed pathetically to yourself. You look down at the counter your eyes filling with tears again. The tears ran down your face and you didn’t even bother wiping them off.

SO THAT WAS PART 1. I CUT THIS SHORT CUZ IM WORKING ON PART 2. Thanks for reading I’m sorry if it’s confusing or if it’s not good jebdkwjdbjd anyways I hope y’all like it have a great day :) 💛💛💛 if you guys have questions about it feel free to ask also feedback would be nice thanks!

-admin az

[snickerl]

Observations of a Labor Nurse

an x-files post-season 11 baby fic

tagging @today-in-fic

I've been a labor nurse for more than 30 years. I don’t know how many babies I've helped into this world, but I've seen my share of miracles and, fortunately to a lesser degree, tragedies in the delivery room. What I've been a witness to today is unparalleled though. I'm sitting in the locker room, already changed into my regular clothes after a long double shift, but I'm not ready to leave yet. My working day has been remarkable and it's running in front of my mind's eye once again on its own accord.

This early morning, at 4 a.m., a couple came in. She was obviously in labor, he obviously very nervous. So far, so familiar. The woman, a small redhead, let out a painful groan urging the man to utter the more than superfluous remark, "my wife is having a baby." This also was very familiar. It happens all the time that men turn into complete messes as soon as their wives have the first contraction. In this case, though, I sensed something other than the mere nervousness about the imminent delivery of a baby. I would find out later some of what this couple had been through until they made it to this point of their lives.

I ushered them into one of the examination rooms, made the woman prop her lower arms on the wall and relax her back. I pushed one of the trigger points in her lower back and she sighed in relief. Once the contraction was over, she turned around and smiled at me. "Jesus, that was a strong one. Thank you, that was very helpful," she uttered breathlessly.

"My name is Rose," I told her, "I am the labor nurse on call and will guide you through this. Together we will deliver your baby safely."

"My name is Dana Scully and this is Fox Mulder," she introduced themselves. And then I noticed it. Her age. She was past the usual age range I see in the delivery room. Not that I hadn't had mothers past 50, quite a few actually. It happens time and again that women believe once they hit perimenopause they don't have to care for birth control anymore and then they are utterly surprised, shocked mostly, when they find out they are pregnant at an age they rather think of having grandchildren than another baby of their own.

She handed me her maternity log and there it was recorded: she was 54. She looked younger, I would've put her in her early fifties, maybe even late forties. Her good physical condition helped her later on when it got really tough. An amniocentesis had been done at week 20, a common procedure for high-risk pregnancies such as hers. It hadn't shown any abnormalities. The frequent ultrasound scans were also recorded NAD. Her blood pressure had been a bit high during the last trimester, the iron content in her blood a bit low, but other than that, it had been a complication-free pregnancy.

"You're a medical doctor?" I asked when I saw what was written down as her profession.

"Pathologist," she winced as another contraction hit her. Her husband, who had been standing silently in the corner holding on to a duffel bag, dropped it unceremoniously and was at her side in the blink of an eye.

"Already another one, Scully?" he asked, trying but failing to keep his concern for her at bay.

"I'm fine, Mulder," she hissed between two deep inhales to breathe the pain away.

They called each other by their last names, one more interesting feature to add to the list. I should learn some more during the following hours, many more hours. I would work way past my scheduled shift because I didn't have the heart to leave them to another labor nurse in the middle of a delivery which had become prolonged and difficult at a certain point.

After a gynecologist had taken a look at her, she was still in the first dilation phase, the cervix dilated to three centimeters, I got them settled into our nicest room. After a series of strong contractions in quick succession labor slowed down significantly. At some point, I offered an ecbolic IV or an epidural which also sometimes helps initiate dilation, but she refused resolutely. "I want it as natural as possible. No medical intervention, only if it's for the baby. My body has been manipulated enough, I don’t want to be injected with anything I don't really need," she supplied.

"This might take a long time, Dana. You might be running on empty at some point if we don't accelerate labor a bit."

I had her age in mind and expected her to deteriorate quite quickly, but she would prove me wrong. She was an impressively hardy woman. She showed a high tolerance for pain and breathed herself through one contraction after another. Her husband with the peculiar first name, Fox, who didn't know what to do with himself when they first came in and was of no use, came to be a great help to her once he had settled himself behind her. He coached her through her breathing technique, they had obviously been to Lamaze class together, he uplifted her mood when she was about to lose her strength and determination, he massaged her back and dabbed her sweaty forehead with a cooling cloth.

They were a perfect team. I'd never seen anything like it before. I was used to women yelling at their husbands to leave them alone, to husbands not knowing what to do to help their wives, a pair so much in sync mesmerized me. Fox seemed to know exactly what Dana needed at each and every point in time. He either cheered her on or calmed her, he told her she was strong or to lean on him. He knew when to keep quiet or when to distract her with one of his weird stories. He even engaged her in banter at one point. I expected her to go wild, women in labor are usually not really susceptible to joking, but she just threw a witty remark back at him and a funny chit-chat arose between them which was quite entertaining, to be honest. I even had to suppress a laugh when she returned one of his quips with telling him her older brother had ample resources as a Navy officer to make him pay for knocking up his baby sister.

Dana was in such good hands, she didn't need me around all the time. So I left them alone but checked on them regularly. I had a look at the fetal monitor, listened to the baby's heartbeat, evaluated the progress of labor and Dana's physical condition. Everything was going well, albeit slowly. But slow didn't necessarily mean bad, so if she didn't want any medical relief, she wouldn't have to accept any. Then labor slowed down even more to a point where Dana didn't have any contractions for extended periods of time. When I popped my head into the room once again to offer oxytocics, exhaustion had taken its toll on her and she had fallen asleep with her back leaned against Fox's chest. He was gently stroking her damp hair with one hand, the other rested on her protruding belly, his fingers splayed out as if he wanted to protect the baby inside. For a man in his late-fifties, he was also very persistent. He had been slouched behind her for many hours now, his back must've ached terribly, his legs had to be asleep. I told him to take a break himself, to have a coffee at the cafeteria maybe, I would call for him as soon as she woke up, but he rejected out of hand.

"I'm not leaving her alone, Rose," he told me, "not for a second. I missed the delivery of our first child, you have to know. I owe her."

That was how I learned that they had a son named William who had just turned 18. I instantly knew something was wrong. The way Fox spoke about him, the way he pulled sleeping Dana a little closer let me surmise the boy wasn't waiting for them to bring home a new baby brother or sister. As much as I had become curious, I also noticed this man badly needed some caffeine, so I left it at that until I came back with two mugs of hot, strong, black coffee from the machine in the nurses' lounge. When I handed him his, I asked, "where is your son now?"

"We lost him. We lost him before he turned one," he answered flatly and confirmed my foreboding assumptions. He told me how they believed they couldn't have children, that Dana had been told she was barren. Her pregnancy had been a miracle, especially after an unsuccessful attempt at IVF. He didn't elaborate on what they lost him to; an illness, an accident, or if anything, a crime. It doesn’t matter anyway. Losing a child is the most brutal thing parents can experience in their lives. I happen to know first-hand.

"I'm sorry for your loss," I said to him. "I know what it feels like to lose a son. Mine was killed in a car accident. He had just gotten his license and was too fast on a slippery road. It happened 8 years ago and I still miss him every single day."

Fox looked at me, his eyes compassionate, and nodded. He understood, knew exactly what I meant. I sensed their story was different, that there was more to it than the mere loss. Why had he missed his son's birth? Why wouldn't he let go of Dana if only for ten minutes to grab himself something to drink? Why wouldn't Dana grant herself the relief medical technology offered her? He didn't want to talk about it and I didn't pry any further, it wasn't my business anyway. "Have you tried for another baby since then?" I asked instead.

"Well, we never really talked about having another one. The hole William left behind was so big, the wound so painful. Plus we had a lot of other things to deal with."

Fox spoke of how after years of being on the move they had finally settled down in hopes that the steadier lifestyle would make it easier to cope with the loss of their son, but that exactly the opposite had happened. That they had even been separated temporarily but had remained friends and work colleagues. The man was emotionally so on edge, I doubted he realized he was saying all of this aloud, but as the physician-patient-privilege also applies to labor nurses, I let him talk because I thought it was doing him good. So I also learned that they had only gotten back to an intimate relationship shortly before she had conceived the baby we were now waiting to come into this world.

"We never thought we would be granted a second miracle. An even bigger one. I mean at our age. Honestly, who thinks of propagation while making love in their fifties...mid to late fifties? I suppose we will be the oldest parents at the playground. People will mistake us for the kid's grandparents, for sure." He chuckled slightly and broke the spell of sadness with it. Fortunately so, I must say, as we were expecting something wonderful to happen which was the arrival of another one of God's creatures.

As if on cue, Dana stirred and instantly moaned. Labor had started anew and this time it proceeded fast. When I examined her after maybe five or six more contractions, the cervix was already dilated to eight centimeters. The transition phase had started. I expected another hour at longest before the baby would be born. Poor Dana was in constant pain as her body worked hard toward full dilation. The moment one contraction was fading, the next already started. I feared the baby could be in distress at some point because of the ongoing intense labor, so I cautiously mentioned the possibility of an emergency c-section.

I had anticipated some kind of resistance thinking back to Dana's brusque rejection of medical intervention earlier, but I most certainly had not expected the almost hysteric one I got. "No! Please, no!" she cried out, "I need to know the baby is mine. I can't be under full anesthesia when it's born, I simply can't! Please, Mulder, don't let them narcotize me!" Fox flinched when she grabbed his bicep and dug her nails into his flesh. "Scully, if the baby's life is in jeopardy, or yours, they might have to do it. I promise you I won't take my eyes off of you or the baby. I'll make sure the baby is ours. Trust me," he tried to reason.

I didn't understand what they both were so afraid of. Did they really believe babies were mixed-up in our hospital? I found myself forced to calm everyone. "I just wanted to point out that it's remotely possible we have to consider a c-section. We try our best for a natural childbirth but like your husband said, Dana, if your or your baby's lives are in danger, we have to act quickly. We won't risk losing either of you. Right now, everything looks fine, so just relax, okay? Nothing will happen to your baby."

Dana's answer was a guttural moan as another contraction hit her full force. I was relieved when my next examination showed a fully dilated cervix. The c-section wasn't up for debate anymore, Dana was ready to give birth. I called for a practitioner as she was already experiencing expulsing pains and had to work hard to resist the urge to push.

It didn't go quite as smooth as I had hoped. The baby's head wasn’t perfectly positioned in the birth canal, so whenever the urge to bear down faded and Dana stopped pushing, the head slid back again. But there was only so much power the poor woman had left after almost 18 hours of labor. The practitioner looked at me and mouthed 'episiotomy' but I shook my head. I pictured how Dana would jump off the bed at the view of someone approaching her with a scalpel even if it was with the best intention of helping the baby and her by widening the vaginal opening. The practitioner, fortunately, relied on my evaluation of the situation and tried a different technique. He positioned his flat hands on her belly where the baby's bum pressed against the uterus wall from the inside and pushed downward along with the next contraction to give the baby the decisive impetus on its way out. It didn't work on the first try although Dana was pushing so hard a bursting vein in her nose left her with blood splattered all over her chest. It wasn't a big deal, it happens all the time when mother's push too hard, but Fox got terrified and yelped in shock.

"Jesus, your nose, Scully! It's bleeding!" His voice was trembling and his hands shaking when he wiped the blood off her upper lip. I didn’t know where Dana took the presence of mind from, maybe it was her doctor's persona talking, but it was her instead of one of us who explained the completely harmless pathological phenomenon to him. "It's okay, Mulder, it's not what you think it is. The pressure went into my head instead of my womb, that's why some blood vessels burst in my nose. It's a harmless nosebleed, nothing elsssssssooooohh, there's another one."

Still wondering what her words exactly meant, I helped her lift her upper body off the bed and cheered her on to put all the strength she had left into bearing down, and this time the pressure went to the right place. The baby's head emerged and with the next final push, the body followed. The baby was out in the world. Dana sank back into the pillow, completely exhausted. Fox was cemented to his spot behind her and only stared at the bloody, smeary bundle between her legs. Like so many other fathers he was thunderstruck and speechless.

It was a girl. She seemed fine at first glance, cried the second I lifted her up. Usually, I clean the babies before I give them to the mothers. Just a little, to take away most of the blood and the goo, to make them look more comely, but with Dana, I departed from my usual MO. I had learned she was frantic about her baby's identity, so I wanted to give her the security she so desperately needed and placed her daughter on her chest right away.

"It's a girl, Dana. A beautiful girl. Well done," I said.

"Is she alright? Is she healthy?"

"The pediatrician will have a look at her later, but she seems pretty fine to me. Ten fingers, ten toes, and a strong chest." Of course, the baby stopped crying the moment she was placed on Dana's chest, as the familiar sound of her mother's heartbeat calmed her. The cute little thing even opened her eyes and blinked at her.

"Oh my god," Dana breathed, totally in awe. "Hello, little one," she welcomed her newborn daughter and gently cupped the tiny head with her hand. Fox observed the scene, still petrified and obviously unable to utter a single word. It came into my mind that he hadn't been there when their first child was born, so this was all new to him.

"Fox," I tried to pull him out of his trance, "would you like to cut the cord?"

"Uh, what?"

"The umbilical cord? There are no nerves, so cutting it is not painful. Would you like to do it? Your daughter doesn't need it anymore now that she's breathing on her own."

"My daughter. Right. The cord needs to be cut. Sure. I can do that."

What an adorable bundle of nerves he was. This hunky man so humble all of a sudden at the sight of the miracle of birth. His hand was trembling when I handed him the scissors. He hesitated, looked at Dana as if waiting for her confirmation that he could proceed. She eased his mind with the same amount of intuitive sensitivity as he had shown while she was in labor.

"The umbilical cord is made of something called Wharton's jelly, Mulder, not ordinary skin. There are no functional pain receptors present in it, so just go ahead and cut it, we won't feel any pain." She might be a pathologist, but she knew a hell of a lot of the anatomy of the living. This woman amazed me.

This couple amazed me.

This whole experience today was one of a kind. I'd seen a lot of beautiful moments in my delivery room, emotional, heart-wrenching moments full of happy tears and joyful sobs, but the way Dana and Fox gazed at their daughter and at each other, their faces so full of incredulity and disbelief, hit me to the core. There wasn't the usual crying and sobbing because of the hormone-overload released after hours of tension. It was ghost-like silent, everyone seemed to hold their breath, including myself. It seemed to be a huge moment for them like it is for every couple, but for them, it seemed to be so much more than just the arrival of a baby in their lives.

I started filling out the maternity log and the forms necessary for the authorities to create the birth certificate, and I usually mind my own business doing this, but in this case, I couldn't keep myself from listening to their conversation.

"This is really happening, Mulder, isn't it? We're not stuck in a joined hallucination like when we were on that case with the underground fungus?" Dana asked Fox in a hushed voice.

"No, Scully, far and wide no fungus. This is really happening. You...made it happen, only you. You carried this perfect little being in your womb for nine months, you nurtured and protected her, you brought her into this world in an unbelievable feat. I'm in total awe. You were amazing. I can't believe what childbirth demanded from you, what you went through to deliver her safely. You're my hero, Scully."

"Well, Mulder, it's not like you haven't played a part in this."

"Me? I only had a few minutes of fun, but you went through a high-risk pregnancy and so many hours of labor and bearing down pains that gave you a nosebleed."

"If I remember correctly, you lasted more than just a few minutes."

I had to smile at the sexual allusion and especially the mischievous grin tugging at Dana's mouth. I've always refused to believe that middle-aged couples had to abjure fun in bed just because they weren't wild twenty-somethings anymore.

"Yeah, maybe, but still, I'm one lucky sonofabitch," Fox replied and placed a gentle kiss on Dana's forehead, then on the tip of her nose, and eventually on her mouth. "God, I love you, Scully."

"I love you too, Mulder."

"This is perfect. She...is perfect."

"She is, isn't she?"

"She's got your beauty."

"Oh, come on, Mulder. How can you say that? Her face looks still squashed from being squeezed through the birth canal."

"It's already visible how beautiful she is. To a maven's eye."

"And you are a maven."

"When it comes to her mother's beauty, yes, I am indeed."

I was almost relieved to finally find them in a more than stereotype moment for new parents: totally awe-struck by their baby and totally devoted to each other. I groaned when their sweet intimacy was brutally disturbed by a short knock at the door and the appearance of the pediatrician. He nodded at me curtly, then bellowed insensitively, "how are things going, Rose? Any unusual incidents in here?"

"No, Doctor Miller. Natural childbirth of a girl at week 39 of a high risk but complication-free pregnancy. Slow, prolonged labor, normal expulsive phase, and vaginal delivery. Mother and child are both well," I summarized.

"Good, good," Doctor Miller, one of the most experienced pediatricians in our hospital, mumbled. "Congratulations Mr. and Mrs. ...umm," he looked at the name tag on Dana's bed, "...Scully. I'm Doctor Miller, the pediatrician on call."

He wasn't on call. I knew because I had checked the duty roster when I asked for running another shift to be able to stay with Dana for the birth of her baby. And he hadn't looked into the medical file apparently because he didn't know the mother's and the father's names weren't the same. Doctor Miller had rushed in unprepared, and I wondered if the medical director had purposely called for him on short notice because of Dana's age. He probably wanted to make sure nothing would be overlooked to prevent legal complications later on, no birth defect, no congenital deformity or illness. The minds of clinical administration personnel are used to think in economic terms rather than humanly compassionate. I sighed inwardly.

"I'm going to abduct your daughter now for her first medical check-up," he said, stretching his arms out in anticipation of Dana handing the baby over to him, but she had gasped at the word 'abduct' and did nothing of that sort. Instead, she pulled the girl closer to her chest. Her reaction to Doctor Miller's announcement fits in with her rejection of ecbolics, anesthesia, and a possible c-section earlier.

"You're going with her, Mulder. Don't let her out of eyesight, stay with her at all times. Make sure she isn't injected with something, that no blood is drawn from her and that she isn't mixed up." It's wasn’t a favor she asked of Fox, it was a command.

"Uh, this is not the common procedure around here, Mrs. Scully," Doctor Miller informed her. "You'll have your daughter back as soon as I'm done examining her."

"It's Doctor Scully, and I don’t care what the common procedure is. Either her father is going with her, or you have to perform the check-up here in this room where we can see you."

The pediatrician was clearly annoyed and not ready to give in. "May I ask for the reason of your mistrust?"

"No, you may not," Dana replied with steadfast determination and I felt I had to step in. The situation threatened to get out of hand, and Dana had just been delivered of a child. I pulled doctor Miller aside and whispered to him, "please, doctor, let her be. I don't know why she worries that much, but I think it has something to do with how they lost their first child. This woman has just given birth, she needs to rest and not to tense up. Can't you make an exception just this once? Please?"

"Hmf," he grumbled, "since when do patients decide about medical procedures? But in God's name, if it's so important to her." He turned around, looked at Fox and said,"okay, Mr. Scully, you can come with me." He moved to take the baby from Dana but Fox preempted him. He gently cradled the tiny bundle in his long arms and replied, "thank you for your understanding, Doctor Miller, we really appreciate it, but I'll carry her. And," he paused a short moment, "my name is Mulder, not Scully. Which you would know if you had cast a glance at my wife's admitting form before rushing in here and demanding to take our daughter away from us."

Doctor Miller had nothing to say to this. Leaving Fox's remark unanswered, probably because he felt caught, he turned around and rushed out of the room.

"I'll bring her back to you as fast as I can, Scully," Fox breathed into Dana's hair before he kissed her temple and followed the pediatrician into the hallway.

The door slid shut behind them and Dana sank back into the pillow. It was the sign for me to bring the whole thing to a close.

"Let's deliver the placenta, Dana, so you can enjoy your baby girl and rest when Fox is back with her."

I gently massaged my patient's abdomen to stimulate the placental separation and when I felt a light contraction under my fingertips I told her to push one last time. Afterward, I cleaned her up and put a fresh hospital gown on her, the opening on the front because as soon as the baby was back she would be put to her mother's breast.

"Have you decided on a name yet?" I asked to distract Dana as she became increasingly jittery the longer Fox and the baby were gone.

"Hetty," she answered lost in thought, "Hetty Melissa Samantha Mulder."

"The names have a special meaning to you and Fox, I assume?" It wasn't so difficult to get that from the way Dana had pronounced them, her voice thick and herself close to tears.

"Melissa was my sister's name, Samantha Mulder's."

"And they are both already..." I trailed off, afraid of the answer I would get.

"Gone. Yes."

"And Hetty?" I prayed to God that I would be spared hearing of another loss this pitiable couple had suffered from.

"The name Hetty is of African origin and means star. That's what she is, our little star."

I was relieved, and even more so when the door opened and Fox reentered the room, in his arms a bundle covered in a pink blanket, on his face, a wide smile.

"She passed every test with flying colors, Scully. She's perfectly healthy and the most beautiful baby of the entire neonatal ward."

He placed his daughter in her mother's outstretched arms and his smile got even wider gazing at them. This was what I wanted to see in my delivery room: the joy and love and awe and puzzlement at the wonder of a new life on this planet. The wonder soon made herself heard which was my cue to help Dana latch her on. "C'mere, sweetheart, mommy has something for you," I cooed at little Hetty as I peeled her out of Dana's embrace who then opened the front of the gown to expose one of her breasts. I placed the baby chest to chest with her mother, brought her upper lip in contact with the nipple and when she opened her mouth wide, I pushed her gently onto the breast. Hetty instinctively closed her mouth and instantly started sucking.

Dana had clearly done this before, she held the baby perfectly in front of herself with one arm and supported her breast with her free hand to make it easier for Hetty to drink. She was relaxed and enjoyed this special mother-child-moment. Fox had been watching the whole procedure in total awe, and when his daughter was sucking, slurping audibly, he voiced his amazement. "This is incredible. I have missed all this with William," he hiccuped. Dana cupped his face when she answered, "you're here now, Mulder, that's all that matters. You're a father."

"I'm a father," he repeated with a melancholy in his voice I couldn't quite understand. The conversation that followed left me absolutely confused. I wasn't eavesdropping, they just didn’t mind me hearing them, or they had completely forgotten I was there. It was impossible to not realize that they were talking about a crucial moment of their lives.

"Mulder, what I said on the dock-"

"It's okay, Scully, I made my peace with it."

"No, I was wrong, Mulder. I think I was trying to distance myself from him in order not to shatter into a million pieces right there. What Skinner told me...what I had to listen to...the idea in and of itself is so sick...what that nicotine-addicted piece of shit did to me...to us..."

"He's dead, Scully. I emptied my clip into him and threw him into the water. He can't harm us anymore."

I have to admit, at this point, the blood ran cold in my veins. And it didn't get better.

"You are William's father, Mulder. You loved him, you mourned him, you tracked him down to protect him. You would've given your life for him. You are a father in the best sense of the word. The Cigarette Smoking Man never was a father. Not to you, not to Jeffrey Spender, and most certainly not to William. I won't let him take our son away from us. William is ours. He's always been ours."

Fox hung on every word Dana uttered. One could literally observe how every single one soothed his battered soul.

"If he was telling the truth-" he started.

"He was not telling the truth!"

"The thought in and of itself is so monstrous, so disgusting and horrifying. We'd be half-brothers, Scully!" Fox disgorged the words like a cat disgorges a hairball.

"Mul-"

"And it gets even better," he continued undeterred, a sour chuckle now escaping his throat, "it'd mean that instead of carrying my child you carried-"

"Mulder, stop! I don’t want to hear it. The bastard was a liar through and through, he wasn't telling the truth. You are William's father. He is our son, and nobody tells me otherwise."

My ears were burning. I felt so uncomfortable hearing this, so utterly aghast, that I wished a hole was opening to swallow me. The words spoken didn’t make any sense to me, the subject matter they were talking about was so disturbing, so angst-inducing, I began to fathom where their paranoia concerning their newborn had been coming from.

"She's his sister," Fox murmured eventually. He had calmed down. His face, which had been strangely contorted for the time they had discussed Fox's fatherhood to their lost son, reflected the adoration for his wife and daughter again. He was a handsome man, one of the kinds that ages well. "Do you think he would've liked to have a sibling?" he asked her.

"He's alive, Mulder, I know he is."

"Another vision?"

Dana shook her head. "I just know."

"Will he come back to us? One day? Maybe to get to know his baby sister?"

"I don't know, I hope. Right now, he doesn't want to be found. That's why he let himself got shot."

"It was the second time he played that trick on us."

"Only that this time he retreated from us for the time being."

"I held him, Scully. For a short moment, he let me hug him. And he told you he knew you loved him. He isn't done with us. And he knows how to find us if he cares to. We have to leave it to him. There's nothing else we can do. All we can do is keep loving him."

It seemed Fox and Dana had lost themselves, as they were mingling the past and the present. One moment, they spoke of their son like he was gone, the next, it seemed he was still present in their lives. I asked myself how the birth of their baby daughter had brought all this to the surface. Maybe the birth of a new baby does this to parents, lets them strengthen the bond to their lost child as well as loosen it at the same time. I can't tell, I didn't have another after I had lost mine.

I got lost in my own thoughts for a moment, my heart heavy with my own grief, before I was catapulted back to the reality of the delivery room when I heard Fox yelp.

"It's okay, Mulder. She just spit up a bit of milk. Her stomach is tiny and I guess she enjoyed sucking and had a little too much. It's no big deal. She's going to spit on you countless times over the next weeks, believe me. You better get used it."

Thank God for experienced second-time mothers, I said to myself. To Dana, I said, "give her to me. I'll dress her in one of your onesies. I take it you brought some. Then, we'll get you settled into your room. I've got you a nice one with a v-"

"Oh, they're not staying," Fox interrupted me quite resolutely, "I'm taking them home as soon as Scully is cleared to leave."

"What? You had this planned as an outpatient birth?" Were you out of your mind, I wanted to add, and to my horror, Dana confirmed with a determined, "yes."

"Dana," I said to her as if to a child I wanted to convince it was important to eat all the veggies, "with all due respect, you've just given birth after 18 hours of labor at the age of 54. The fact that your high-risk pregnancy ran smoothly and without major complications doesn't necessarily mean your puerperium will. I highly recommend you and your daughter spend at least one night here for observation. Better two."

"Rose, I appreciate your concern, I really do. You've been a great help through this, but I'm a medical doctor, I can take care of myself from here."

"You're not supposed to take care of yourself, Dana," I almost shouted at her, "it's important for you to rest, both physically and emotionally."

"I can do that best when I'm home," she replied so composedly and calmly, I almost believed her. Almost.

"But why not here where there's a medical staff at service at all times?"

"I need to keep them safe, Rose," Fox threw in eventually, "and it's easier for me to do that at our house."

"What makes you think they are not safe here?"

"My experience," he answered flatly and stole my thunder completely with it. What arguments could I have used to convince Fox to place his experience in the back seat? His bitter experience from what I got from their conversation. So I gave in. I didn't have any means to keep them anyway. They were free to leave the hospital at their own risk anytime, and if I understood them correctly, they assessed the risk higher if they stayed than if they left.

I looked intensely at Fox, while I gave him a list of dos and don'ts. "Make sure she lies down for at least the next 24 hours. No household duties whatsoever, no nappy change, no making coffee, no folding laundry, no nothing. You escort her to the bathroom and back. If you notice the slightest anomalies with either of them, like forehead sweat, pale skin, elevated temperature, you give us a call. If your wife suffers from persistent nausea or bleeding, you give us a call. Immediately. No matter what time of day or night. Are we clear?"

"Perfectly," he answered compliantly.

"I also happen to be a free-lance midwife, so I will come to your house the day after tomorrow to check on both of them. I have to make sure your daughter puts on some weight and that her navel heals well. I have to monitor the involution of your wife's uterus and whether breastfeeding goes well. I will drive a red Nissan, by the way, so don't shoot me when I'm pulling into your driveway." I simply couldn't bite back the sarcasm.

"Well, I can't promise you anything, Rose, because you know how it is, you can take the man out of the FBI, but you can't take the FBI out of the man.”

If he tried to sound intimidating, he failed miserably. He couldn't even keep the corners of his mouth from twitching. He had spoken about how he'd emptied a clip into a man; not into a man though, into a piece of shit, sonofabitch, pathological liar. I guess that was why it didn't really bother me. I simply brushed it aside and told him, "your insurance will charge you extra for midwife home visits."

He feigned to be shocked for a second, then smiled. "That's okay," he said in the smoothest of voices.

"Very well then," I huffed, "I'll fetch a doctor for a final examination. After that, I'll get the discharge papers ready and you can take them home."

I was already on my way out, stampeding toward the door when I felt Fox's hand on my shoulder. His voice was warm again, bereft of the rigidity of a few moments ago.

"Rose, please don't take this the wrong way. You've been wonderful. I know you volunteered to stay with Scully until the end. You've been nothing but a blessing. You're an amazing labor nurse and I promise I will make you coffee and welcome you to our house when you come to us for the home visit. As a matter of fact, I wouldn't want anybody but you to take care of my two most precious treasures."

My heart melted and my anger and incomprehension went phut. Once again, these two people impressed me. They voiced their sincere gratefulness, acknowledged my part in the drama of this birth, but also followed an unswerving way when it came to their very own interests. Fox simply acted like a mother bear taking care of her cubs. How could I have been mad at him? I showed him a smile. "Do you have a milk frother?"

"You bet. I can even offer you a variety of flavor shots. Hazelnut, vanilla, caramel."

"What are you? A trained barista?"

"No, just a coffee connoisseur who happily welcomes everyone to his house who appreciates a freshly brewed cup of coffee, because my better half here," he quirked an eyebrow in Dana's direction, "prefers organic green tea."

I had to chuckle when I saw Dana roll her eyes. They were really simply adorable.  

I fetched the gynecologist and pediatrician to examine Dana and Hetty. They were both perfectly well, so after another two or three hours, they would be free to go.

Now that I'm in the locker room, after I wrote the report about my shift, scheduled my home visit with the Mulder-Scully family, and changed out of my scrubs into my clothes, I have to say my long working day has been absolutely remarkable. Should I ever write a book about my experiences as a labor nurse, this day would get mentioned as one of the most interesting ones of my entire working life. Not so much because of the sequences of this delivery, it had more or less been a textbook example despite the mother's advanced age. It was this extraordinary parental couple who made it so special. I supposed, they not only made it through this together but through many other challenges life had thrown at them. I am really looking forward to walking a little way on their roads.

I'm on my way out and there they are, heading toward the main gate. Hetty is securely buckled up in the car seat Fox is carrying, cocooned in a hat, mittens and a warm blanket. His other arm is curled around Dana's waist, supporting her as well as keeping her close. I told him I would rely on him to make this ambulant birth thing work, that he was responsible for both his wife's and his daughter's well-being and what I'm seeing right now tells me my confidence in him is justified. He has them both under his wings and anyone with the intention to get at them has to get past him first.

Who wouldn't want to have a Fox Mulder in their lives?

[hellospunkiebrewster]

Rage - Part IV of Duty

Author’s note: Thank you all for your support and love and comments. They really give me the confidence to continue sharing my content. I’m forever grateful. If you’re new here here’s the previous parts of my Duty series:

Part I - Part II - Part III

Summary: As the official period of royal mourning begins, Riley and Eleanor get some much needed privacy to work their way through the effects of the attack on their family. They begin to piece it together, just the two of them. Friends reach out, but Riley withdraws, not ready to face even those she trusts the most at court.

Word count: 3448

Tags: @queencatherynerhys, @theroyalweisme, @boneandfur, @crayziimaginations, @hopefulmoonobject, @mfackenthal

I don’t own these characters or places, Pixelberry does.

“Ma’am,” Mara continued her brief of the morning’s schedule, “The princess and yourself will be leaving via car once Leo and his wife have been dropped at the airport to return to the United States. Your luggage has been loaded and everything is in place for a departure for Valtoria at noon.”

Riley enters the dining room used for informal meals as she had each day since guests arrived at the palace for Liam’s funeral. Taking her place next to an empty chair at the head of the table, left vacant as a respect to the fallen king, she’s flooded with memories of her and Liam at this very table, upon returning to Cordonia after clearing her name they’re telling his father and Regina to stand down. She drifts on from that memory and they’re at the same table and his hand is on her knee, sometimes wandering higher without the knowledge of their guests. She’s thrown from that memory and her back is pressed against the warm mahogany, dress falling from her shoulders, Liam leans over her peppering her collarbone with biting kisses. A maid walked in on them that time, and suddenly it was protocol to knock on every door before entering despite where the king and queen were supposed to be. Riley is snatched from these thoughts by laughter coming from all around the table.

Leo. Even days after the funeral she couldn’t escape him. She barely uttered more than two words to him each royal breakfast he sat in on since arriving. Riley knows her anger is perhaps misplaced, but she can’t shake it. After the first attack, he never visited or even attempted to call. When a suspicious envelope was delivered to the royal residence containing a white powder shortly after she gave birth to Ellie, radio silence from him. When bomb threats had been called to the library where she and Liam made an appearance to speak about her children’s literacy initiative, not even a message. He is telling a story to the table, his perfect teeth sparkling and eyes shining as he reaches the punch line. The guests all laugh with him, under his spell, the rogue, honey-tongued former heir to the throne.

Riley clears her throat and quietly and reaches for a scone. A hush falls over the table and Leo turns his gaze to her, his lips forming a thin line. The others continue their breakfasts, soon the only sounds in the room is the quiet clink of silverware on china. Riley takes her knife, scooping a dollop of apple butter from a small crystal bowl and spreading it over her scone.

“Good morning Riley,” Leo begins.

“It’s your Majesty,” she corrects quietly.

“Apologies, I’ve been away from the palace for quite some time,” he answers, “I was sharing with others some of Liam and my escapades, when we were younger and much more carefree.”

“By all means, don’t let me stop you,” she replies a sugary smile on her lips, adding under her breath, “You do exactly what you want regardless.” Leo doesn’t hear her addition and has already launched into another story to the delight of others at the table. She drops her knife to the side of her plate and rises, leaving the room quickly before anyone can object and most are too engrossed in Leo’s storytelling that they don’t notice. Maxwell follows her.

She leans against the wall of the hallway outside the dining room, sighing as she looks up at the ceiling, willing her tears to quell before she makes even more of a scene. Her cheeks are warm and she can feel the blood coursing in her veins, hot and angry.

“Uhm... Riley?” Maxwell approaches her tentatively. She closes her eyes, squeezing the tears away before glancing at him. In that time, he moves next to her, also leaning against the wall.

“Doesn’t he know this is all his fault?”

Maxwell looks at her, shell shocked at her question. It isn’t often that he’s rendered completely speechless and Riley exhales, leaning her head on his shoulder.

“Liam should still be here. I know everything would be different if Leo never abdicated, but Liam deserves to be here.”

Maxwell’s arm wraps around her back, his hand finding her waist tugging her closer. He’s warm and soft, comforting, against her side. “It’s easy to say that Riley, but without it, you wouldn’t be here. Ellie wouldn’t be here.”

“But isn’t that selfish thinking? I could’ve been content in New York, maybe I’d never have found what I had with Liam with someone. But he’d still be here, he’d be happy. He’d be… alive.”

“You don’t mean that.”

She sighs, “I don’t even know what to think anymore. I just know this isn’t going to be something I’m going to ever get over.”

“I don’t think any of us will. All we can do is be there for each other when we need each other to be.”

The door to the dining room opens and it’s Leo leaving with his wife. He sees Riley and Maxwell against the wall of the hallway and tells his wife to go ahead. Leo takes the few steps towards them and shakes Maxwell’s hand.

“Maxwell Beaumont, it’s been a pleasure. I only wish it was under happier circumstances.”

“You do realize this is your fault don’t you Leo,” the words escape her lips before she can stop them.

“Excuse me?” he looks at her, the smile fading from his eyes. His brow knots in confusion.

Riley figures she’s all in and continues, “You can’t tell me that the thought has never crossed your mind since it happened. Where would Liam be right now if you never abdicated, if you never shirked your duty to your country in favor of the life of a playboy?”

Leo shakes his head and exhales sharply. “We’re all hurting here, but the only ones to blame are the attackers… and maybe the royal guard. I mean come on,” he spits in response.

She narrows her eyes and hisses at him, “How could you possibly know what sort of damage you did to the people’s confidence in the crown by tossing it aside? By tossing your family and country aside?”

“You can’t be serious! The damage was done long before I ever abdicated!” Leo raises his voice.

Riley smiles despite herself and matches his tone, “And still you left, you left Liam behind to run away with some- some woman.”

“She has a name,” he is seething, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“You pulled Drake from college, and once he was in place you left, leaving your brother torn apart. You know he was never truly whole after the first attempt on his life. We were attacked in our own home, twice. Attacked outside of it, sent threats, and nothing. Silence from someone he so trusted and loved,” she’s ranting, Maxwell grabs her arm to try to calm her.

“Maxwell no, he needs to understand his actions had consequences, very real consequences.”

“You don’t think I realize that?” he roars, looking down, struggling to find words for what he wants to say. He opens his mouth to speak again, this time quiet, “I don’t- It’s something I’ll carry with myself forever,” he sighs. “I’ve got a plane to catch,” he utters, his usually shining eyes, sad and hurt. He turns on his heel and leaves in the direction his wife did.

Leo is out of their sight for a considerable amount of time and the two of them stand in the silence of the hallway. She can’t put her finger on why, but she feels better, the fog of rage has lifted. If she’s honest with herself, she feels a little sorry for attacking him like that. Maxwell finally speaks first.

“So that happened.”

--

The sweeping estate at Valtoria comes into view miles before they arrive at the house. Riley’s estate is located in a mountainous forest and as the car comes over the edge of a large ridge the house, a large wooden cabin can be seen in the valley below. The car winds its way down the side of the mountain, riding along the bank of a small lake. A pier juts into the water, coming visible as the car rounds the house headed to the garage. Riley lays her cheek against the cool window of the car, surveying the complete and total serenity that engulfs the estate.

They rarely got the opportunity in recent years to spend much time here, in the beginning they spent holidays but as things became more fraught in the country they had less time. There was legislation to pass, trade deals to negotiate, and damage to repair after the initial attacks on the palace and the orchards. In the last couple of years, things were starting to look up for the country and Riley was looking forward to being able to take holidays with Liam and Ellie again. It was a long few years, highlighted by the birth of their daughter. Liam poured every spare moment he had into her, always hungry for more time with her in the evenings. He’d rush home from his final meetings to feed her the last bottle of the day and rock her to sleep. Bathtime was the highlight of his evening. He even snuck out of bed at Eleanor’s tiniest cries, before Riley would be roused from her dreams to comfort her back to sleep. It was exhausting for him, but it was the type of work he enjoyed doing. He finally had what he desired after all this time, a family and a Cordonia that was on the upswing.

Riley feels the handle of her door click and she sits up as it’s opened for her. She steps out, grabbing a sleepy Ellie by her armpits and carrying her into the house.

The staff had done their best preparing the estate for her and Eleanor. She was sure everything in here had probably only hours ago been dust covered and smelled of stale shut-in air. The crisp mountain air wafted in through the sheer curtains, smelling of the evergreen trees around them. She took a half asleep Ellie to her room and tucked her in, the days drive was much harder on her as she gaped at the changing landscape outside of the car window. Her notebook was full of drawings of animals she saw or imagined seeing on their trip there.

Once Ellie was safely tucked in, Riley padded down to the living room and reached for a bottle of wine in a cabinet. She knew the bottle well, and immediately she was flooded with memories her and Liam had shared enjoying this same wine. Liam had insisted they buy cases of it, not only to serve at their wedding but to enjoy together whenever they pleased so they could remember all the happy times they enjoyed together. She greeted him with a glass of it the night he came home after she learned she was pregnant. Riley remembers him thanking her for the wine, one of his eyebrows raised in a question, wondering whether he forgot a special occasion for the first time. He swept her off her feet and spun her around when she passed him the pregnancy test.

They shared a bottle of this very wine on their anniversaries, on the night they learned Savannah and Bertrand were engaged, on the day they returned from the hospital with Ellie, and on the night their daughter turned one. Riley pours herself another glass of this same wine she’s enjoyed on many occasions hoping to feel that happiness and excitement once more. When the liquid fills her mouth, the flavor transports her, she can almost taste it on his lips on one of the many nights they spent together in this house before things got so all-consuming.

Her body relaxes into the supple leather of the couch and she inhales slowly feeling the tension of the past week begin to melt away. Riley was unsure if this is what healing felt like, because really, she didn’t feel any different. She felt a little less hollow, away from the intensity of the palace, and with that more sentimental and emotional. She was thankful for the privacy that the beginning of the official period of royal mourning afforded her and Ellie. It would allow them to connect and begin to repair their shattered hearts.

Riley sat in silence, sinking further into the cushions of the plush couch by the minute. She welcomed the hug her estate was giving her and drank her wine with her eyes close. When she finished her glass, she poured another, allowing the warmth of the alcohol in her belly to soothe her.

She didn’t plan on moving from the couch until she finished the bottle, allowing the memories of their life together to wash over her with each sip. Her stomach, however, forces her out of the warm cocoon of the brown leather couch and knitted blanket. Before rising from the couch, Riley is unaware just how much she was feeling the effects of the bottle of wine. She shuffles wobbly to the kitchen, opening and shutting cupboards at random looking for something to eat. She pulls out some bread and finds some cured meats and soft cheese in the refrigerator. She spreads the soft creamy cheese over the dark seedy bread before adding a generous helping of Cordonian cured sausage. She remembers Liam explaining that the pigs are fed a diet of strictly Cordonian Ruby apples and beer. As Riley wobbles back to her nest in the couch, she snorts at the idea of drunk pigs.

Her stomach appeased, Riley is free to finish her last glass of wine in her meditative state. Each sip brings her a new memory, a new story about him. She drifts to sleep, the warmth from the wine embracing her and lulling her to sleep.

Riley doesn’t even look at the time when she’s awoken by her phone buzzing. At first it’s Hana, then Maxwell, asking how she’s doing all alone up at Valtoria. She shoots them both messages back, that she’s feel better in the quiet, away from the prying eyes of the public and press before taking the last of the wine in a gulp.

Hana wants to visit, Maxwell asks if she wants someone there with her. She assures them she’s fine, that she is enjoying the solitude, for now. She and Eleanor must return to the palace in a week anyway, they just needed the time to themselves for now. Riley lays her head on the arm of the couch, feeling the cool leather warm against her cheek as she lays there. She reassures Hana again that she’s fine before she closes her eyes again.

Riley knows it’s late when a banging sound awakens her again. She squints against the light she left on in the room when she opens her eyes and feels the room spinning ever so slightly around her. Unsure if the banging was her head, or something else, she has to try twice to stand before she manages to stay upright. She knows it isn’t possible, but the floor shifts from side to side under her feet as she wanders around the house searching for the sound of the banging. Her eyes trained on the baseboard of the hallway to the front door, she stumbles towards the foyer, her feet cold on the stone entryway. Surely this was a dream, there wasn’t another living soul around for miles and if there was her security team would have apprehended them long before they arrived at the door.

The banging continues, sending sharp reverberations through her skull with each rap on the door. It’s dark outside, the front light left off when they arrived in the faint dusk light. She flicks on the light, still unable to make out the figure outside, her vision sliding in and out of focus. Riley isn’t sure if it was her eyes playing tricks on her because of the tiredness and alcohol, or that they had installed a textured glass on the sidelights. It had been so long she couldn’t remember. She rests her hand on the cool glass of the narrow windows to steady herself before fumbling with the locks on the door with her free hand. She manages the last one and swings the door open. Before she can see who it is, she straightens herself, the cold night air waking her up ever so slightly as the door opens.

A figure comes into a hazy focus on the doorstep as the sleep drains from her eyes.

“Drake?”

One hand is gripping the back of his neck and the other hangs at his side. His hair, normally tousled, looks messy and stiff like he hasn’t showered in a day or two. His eyes are tired and bloodshot, she guessed from lack of sleep. He studies her for a moment as she shifts from foot to foot trying to keep the floor from swaying under her like a ship tossed at sea. She grips the edge of the door, moving to the side to allow him to enter.

“What- Why- What’re you doing here?” she begins and starts her question over and over, fumbling for words in her state.

“I know you all need space, I know I should’ve respected your wishes, but I couldn’t stay in that goddamned capital city one more moment,” Drake turns to leave before he even finishes talking.

“This was a mistake, I’m sorry, I’ll go find somewhere else to stay.”

“Drake,” she begins wobbling again as the room shifts in the direction it spins. He pauses and turns to her.

“Don’t go Drake, you’ve come all this way,” she shivers, “And it’s cold please get your ass inside.”

He steps back into the door and she swings it closed, leaning against the heavy door to steady herself every moment it takes to lock it. She turns, still leaning on the door, the smooth wood keeping her upright and helping keep her grounded enough that the wobbling wasn’t going to make her throw up. She looks at him, one of the first genuine smiles she’s had in a long time creeps to her eyes. It’s barely there, but he notices.

A small laugh escapes her, “A couple pieces of work, aren’t we?” Her speech is stumbling and she can’t bear it any longer, her stomach lurches and she’s thrown forward. She finds the large vase where they keep the umbrellas and releases the remaining contents of her stomach.

“Shit,” she mutters before standing upright, her back finding the smooth wood of the door again. Drake regards her for a moment before reaching out to help her back down the hallway. When they’re in the living room he walks to the same cabinet she pulled her bottle of wine from and removes a crystal whiskey decanter. He pours himself a couple fingers of the amber liquor before sitting across from her on one of the large armchairs. He brings the bottle with him. Riley lays her head again on the armrest, watching Drake drain his first glass in one quick motion before refilling it and sipping it. They don’t speak for a while and just when Riley thinks she might fall asleep again Drake breaks the silence.

“I heard you gave Leo what’s for.”

She nods, not quite sure what to say. Riley knows she wasn’t at her best this morning and said things she didn’t entirely mean to him.

“Someone had to do it,” Drake grumbles bitterly.

He doesn’t speak again and Riley finds herself struggling to keep her eyes open. It had been a week since she had been able to sleep until sun up, often she was roused from sleep by Ellie having nightmares about her father and the bad people. Sometimes she couldn’t sleep because all she wanted was to feel his chest pressed against her back one more time, to feel his breath ruffling her hair. She gives in and lets sleep take her for the night.

--

Part V: Promises is here.

[suki-schiffer]

Information about gum graft

So I had a gingival (gum) graft done today and I have decided to makes this post in hopes that others will find it helpful. I found very little online about what the experience was like and it would have really calmed me down if I could have read about it beforehand. 

My situation:

Not everyone’s procedure will be the same. I had recession on one of my lower front teeth my dentist pointed this out to me right after I got my braces of and sent me to a periodontist (gum specialist) then. I found the woman very rude and having blood/injection/injury type phobia decided I was not going through with the graft and hoped that it just wouldn’t recede anymore.

Fast forward four years not only has the recession continued I am now experiencing pain (not sensitivity), some days it just feels weird some times it is tender and throbbing, decide that I need to get this graft done and start looking up periodontists (because I’m not going back to that rude bitch).

First piece of advice is to do your research, look for a periodontist who is well rated (esp for grafts). You do not have to commit after the consultation, do not let them make you feel like you have to, if you don’t like the individual find someone else. 

Price:

I saw a lot of people on the internet asking how much the procedure cost. For my one tooth it was 660$ (number$ denotes Canadian currency). I also had to pay 140$ for level 3 sedation (we will discuss sedation in a moment). Finally, it was 75$ for the initial consultation. Of course this will vary depending on how many teeth you have to get done, in how many sittings, and on individual office differences.

What a graft does and does not do:

If you are like me before the consultation I was under the impression that a gum graft would cover up the recession, the graft only prevents further recession by strengthening the remaining tissues and preventing it from thinning/receding. I was warned that sensitivity pain due to root exposure would not be corrected with a graft. Luckily I have not been having sensitivity and if you are there is a “cosmetic” procedure where they can pull a healthy gum back up over the root of the tooth (I don’t know what the name of it is). I was told that all other pain would stop after the procedure (and healing).

Sedation:

I can’t have blood work done without bursting out in tears so of course I needed to be sedated for this procedure. When I looked up this doctor online they only mentioned two types of sedation, oral and IV. During my consultation I was told there are five different levels (at this place at least).

Lvl 0: apparently the majority of people that have this procedure don’t need/get sedation of any kind, only localized anesthetic (numbing cream followed by injection into the gum and palate).

Lvl 1: The above + N2O (nitrous oxide/laughing gas) administered through a large tube that sort of fits over your nose.

Lvl 2: Weak pills in addition to the above

Lvl 3: Strong pills with lvl 0 and lvl 1. For me there were five pills in total, one was a Tylenol, two were anti-anxiety, two were the sedative. 

Lvl 4: IV sedative (apparently stronger than the pills) administered by an anesthesiologist. Originally I went in thinking I wanted the strongest level of sedation but then I found out the nurse only came once a week for a few hours (I imagine this is common as when alarmed I asked the previous perio, “Wait you want to do this to me while I’m CONSCIOUS!!!” I was told the had sedation appointments once a month). Since the day they did IV sedation happened to occur on the same day I have lecture and considering needles make me anxious I ended up opting not to have IV.  

Lvl 5: This is complete sedation, apparently for all the other levels while you might be quite out of it you are still conscious for this one you will be unconscious. This again involves an IV sedative administered by an anesthesiologist. They also need to stick a breathing tube down your throat if you are unconscious. 

IF YOU GET SEDATION YOU HAVE TO HAVE SOMEONE DRIVE YOU HOME! It isn’t a matter of just making sure you aren’t driving either, they won’t let you walk or bus.

I found out after the consultation (actually yesterday via voicemail reminding me of the appointment) that since I was getting sedation I could not eat or drink after midnight. Through my own research I can tell you that for N2O you cannot eat or drink two hours prior to its administration. Some other surgeons’ websites also stated not to eat/drink for 10 hours before, others said six hours. I imagine this no eating or drinking rule is to prevent vomiting and nausea but I did have to take the pills with water so I assume a few sips of water would not have had an adverse affect; however, since I do not know exactly what I took, or what you will take, best just follow whatever the doctor tells you. If I were doing it again during the consultation I would have asked if there I could eat or drink before the operation and if there were exceptions (e.g. is water okay?). 

Being anxious eating is one of the ways I get my body to calm down. Regularly I drink a fair bit of water but when I am anxious I become really dehydrated due to sweating and the speeding up of the digestive tract. I am also a person that has to eat breakfast in 20 minutes of waking up or my stomach will start to roil and I’ll feel nauseous and sometimes start dry heaving. In addition to all this I have medical conditions that require me to take medication (obviously with water and) with food at the same time everyday (so I do this when I get up) this dietary restriction messed up my medication schedule and I can tell you my joints are paying for it now. tl;dr if I had known I couldn’t eat or drink I probably would have chosen a sedation method that was less tedious.

The effects of lvl 3: So I had to arrive about 30 mins before the appointment to take the pills (apparently so that they are effective). After taking them I alternated between reading (to try to ease my anxiety) and pacing (to try to burn off anxious energy). Thirty minutes later the nurse comes out with a wheelchair and calls my name, I’m mid pace, I haven’t been looking at the time but it feels like only a few minutes have passed, it doesn’t feel like they have taken effect yet as I’m still shaking. I ask the nurse if I should feel anything she tells me she’ll take me to the room and I can lay down and I still have to have the gas so not to worry. Despite obviously being able to stand and walk fine she insists I sit in the chair, was very embarrassed when when my pant leg got caught in the foot rest and I tripped and fell into the thing almost knocking the poor nurse off her feet, this was definitely the most embarrassing thing that happened while I was “sedated”.  So if you are worried about spilling secrets, having no control over your body/mouth, and generally embarrassing yourself don’t worry I never felt like I had lost control. 

When we got to the room and I was in the chair they asked me to take my glasses off, I’m pretty blind so this was as good as putting a blindfold on me. They fitted me with the N2O tube, not really sure how it fit, there was no band around my head, it was a large ribbed tube and a black piece sat over my nose. The started the thing on what I assume was the low setting because when I asked the doctor when he came in if I should be feeling as aware as I was he said he could turn it up. I’m not sure if it was just the way this thing was structured or if there was a hole but even they noticed it was blowing gas into my left eye, the nurse moved it a bit and it wasn’t too bad but this continued throughout the procedure.

The procedure:

Rewinding a bit to after the nurse put the tube on me she applied numbing cream to my gum and palate. When the doctor came in he injected local anesthetic into my lower gum and the roof of my mouth where the tissue would be taken. The injection on the roof of my mouth was the most painful part of the whole procedure as after the prick it stung like hell for a good minute. About a minute later the doctor poked and prodded with something sharp to see if I could feel anything, the far side of my gum wasn’t completely numb so another injection. Tested again, numb, good to go. 

The reason I chose the office I did was because everyone was really nice. Unlike the dentist’s office these people knew that when they had sharp things in your mouth it isn’t smart to try to involve you in conversation. Instead the doctor and nurse had a conversation about the nurse’s weekend and something stupid her boyfriend got up too, the doctor only addressed me a few times asking me to open wider or angle my head. Since I was without glasses and laying more or less flat I saw next to none of the procedure, I only remember seeing some gauze and the thread as he was sewing me up (I was so numb I honestly can’t tell you if he was doing my palate or gum at that point). The sound of the N2O was loud enough that with the conversation and the noise outside I didn’t hear any scraping (that sound really sets me on edge at the dentist). Because the tube also covers your nose I didn’t smell blood/flesh either, another bonus. 

During the consultation I was told the procedure would be about 15 minutes, it felt like it was over much faster than that and the doctor must time himself or something because when he was finished and I told him that felt like under ten minutes he told me he had been in the room for 13 minutes and 20 seconds. Maybe the sedative took effect, but once he had started I was no longer afraid/anxious and like I said the whole thing flew by. After the procedure I did feel rather dizzy and accepted the wheelchair ride to the car without complaint so I’m assuming the medicine did have some effect (it might be worth noting though that I was so anxious I couldn’t sleep the night before and the night before that I was only able to sleep 3 hours so my lack of sleep may have amplified the effect). 

According to my mother, who was in the room with me, the doctor did not stitch the roof of my mouth only put a special plaster (band-aid) over it. After the doctor had left and the nurse was helping me get up and asking how I felt I noticed this thing and started gagging because of it, it felt like it was too far back and was triggering my gag reflex, she took a look and said it was the right size and secured properly. She also told me I only had to put up with it until it fell off which would likely be in no more than three days. 

The recovery (so far):

As mentioned above while in the office the plaster was setting off my gag reflex, quickly realized this only happened when I was talking or if I moved it around (this thing really felt like I had put a band aid in my mouth, it moved like fabric and I could even feel the quilted texture). The plaster has been the most unpleasant/painful thing thus far. 

After the procedure I was still starving and needed to have my morning meds, I had brought two muffins and my water and medication with me and ate/drank with no problem on the car ride home. Once home I was exhausted (I had barely slept in two days and might have still been feeling the effects of the sedative) I slept for five hours.  

The numbing had obviously worn off at this point and my mother was wondering how much pain I was in and if she should go to the store to get a blender and liquid foods so I could eat. Minus the plaster I felt fine, only a bit of tenderness around my tooth but I had experienced this before the procedure. During the consultation I was told solid foods were fine so long as they were soft and would not scratch the sites (they told me if I could squeeze it between my fingers and it mushed instead of broke it was okay to eat but a few people online said they could only have liquids because of the pain). To test out if I could eat solids or not I tried a few gummies (which was probably the only soft thing in the house) I had no problem chewing them with my molars and only had an issue when they touched/moved the plaster causing me to gag. 

My mom went out for food and I decided to take it easy, I studied a bit and watched tv, I got hungry but seeing as there was only hard foods (apples, cereal, kale, nuts, etc.) I made myself a tea. Other people complained that they had hot/cold sensitivity, hot tea was actually soothing. 

Once my mother was home I had a yogurt, again, perfectly fine. For dinner I had macaroni and cheese (from a box so no tough cheese or breadcrumbs), having not really had breakfast or lunch I managed a bowl and a half no problem. After dinner I realized that the plaster had likely fallen off and I had eaten it  (*facepalm* oops). There has been no bleeding and I feel much more relaxed without the plaster. 

This post has taken a lot longer to write than I anticipated and while I am a bit tired (likely due to lack of sleep) I still intend to do yoga later tonight. The only thing I have apprehension about is brushing my teeth before bed, I was told normal brushing is fine just not to brush the graft site. 

Other considerations:

From the limited information I could found online it seems like different doctors perform a gum graft differently and therefore there a different instructions. The first perio I went to said that they would have to make a retainer for me to that it covered the roof of my mouth so I didn’t tongue at the donor site. When I asked about it at this place they even admitted that was likely a money ploy as they would only use a plaster, stitches, or combination of the two depending on how much the area bled. 

In a youtube video from a British woman she said that she had been instructed to do salt water rinses whenever she ate, not to brush her teeth for a week and instead to gently swish some prescription liquid tooth paste. While I was offered prescription liquid tooth paste (I think it’s just fluoride) they told me it was a matter of preference and that so long as I didn’t brush the graft for a week I could do my regular dental routine. 

It sounded like some people had been prescribed special pain killers my doctor said to take Tylenol or Advil if there was any pain. I haven’t taken anything yet as nothing really hurts (it feels like my muscles are tender because I over did it at the gym, except in an odd spot, again I was feeling this tenderness before the appointment for a few weeks so it’s not something I feel I need pain killers for).

I know a lot of people on the internet ask about insurance that will all depend on your insurance company, even the periodontist office can’t tell you if the procedure will be covered and how much you will be reimbursed. 

I know the British woman mentioned previously said she had to get stitches out, personally that sounds horrible, when I asked my perio they assured me they used dissolvable stitches.

So far there has been no swelling.

At the previous perio I went to the woman said she would cut off the skin attaching my lower lip to my gums, this freaked me out and I didn’t understand why she had to do this and feared it would cause my lip to sag or minimize the control I had over my lower lip. This procedure is called a frenectomy and is necessary for grafts on the bottom front teeth to prevent lip movement from moving the graft/ripping the stitches (I originally thought it was an intense procedure in and of itself but they literally just make a single cut with the scalpel).

During the consultation I noticed that I found the building rather cold so I wore layers, putting on my jacket once we got to the office, I was already mentally uncomfortable, I didn’t want to add physical discomfort to that. I advise assessing the office on your first visit and dressing appropriately. 

Summary:

Price of graft: 800$ (including taxes and sedation)

Time from consultation to procedure:  15 days

Time procedure took: ~15 minutes (was at office for 45 minutes total)

Expected recovery time: 10 days (until I’m not supposed to feel anymore pain and can eat anything again)

Procedure prep: consultation, (apparently they need x-rays so you either get them there or have your dentist email them), no food/drink from midnight on before the graft

Post-op: only soft food (for ten days), don’t brush/poke/prod graft or donor site, follow up appointment in three weeks

Thing that caused the most anxiety: anticipating the procedure

Anxiety pre-procedure: 9/10 (I don’t like extremes but was tempted to rate this one a 10, I have never feared anything more in my life), anxiety during procedure: 4/10

Most painful thing during the procedure: local anesthesia to palate (burning sensation)

Most painful thing about recovery (thus far): gagging on the plaster

How much procedure has interfered with my day-to-day life (so far): 2/10

Overall pain: 1/10

Well that’s about everything I can think to cover thus far, will update later with how recovery proceeds. 

I hope that this post can help alleviate someone’s anxiety about this procedure, I know having this information would have made me felt a bit better and I know one of my co-workers is also supposed to get a graft and has be procrastinating because she too is terrified so I’m sure there are others out there that this can benefit.

On that note if I have missed something or you have any questions you want to ask my feel free to PM (DM? inbox? what do we even call it on this site?) me and I’ll try to answer your questions. 

UPDATE:

There was a plastic plaster under the cloth one that fell out the next morning when I was eating oatmeal, after it was gone the roof of my mouth felt as it had pre-surgery.

Most painful/difficult thing about recovery was washing my face and putting on makeup (because I had to touch my chin).

I quickly gave up on the soft food diet, I was eating pistachios three days after the surgery and binged on chips a week later. Realized early on that while hard foods were easy enough to manage I couldn’t bite food off with my front teeth so I couldn’t take sandwiches to class and had to eat pizza like an ostentatious person.

Turns out there was some kind of plaster over the graft site as well that was held in with dissolvable stitches except not all of them dissolved so it was hanging on by a thread and became very annoying to brush/eat/drink with. Doctor removed it at check up, seemed to be the cause of zombie mouth.

Zombie mouth. Seriously I was so self-conscious about how bad my breath smelt, I even woke myself up a few times. With the exception of the graft site I was brushing regularly and even using mouth wash but the smell did not abate until the plaster was removed.

Didn’t take any medication during the healing process, didn’t really have any pain unless I touched the area or tried to bite off food (and that was probably in my favour otherwise I might have gone something that ripped the stitches and caused the graft to fail).

I have one more post-op appointment in September but apparently everything is healing nicely and I’m allowed to eat normally and brush the area again. 

[stretchjournalemerson]

Contrails

By Anthony Manupelli

Part One: Peace

Had a talk with my old man,

Said help me understand.

He said, turn 68, you’ll renegotiate

Don’t stop this train

- John Mayer

A month before the crash, it all came back to me. I spent hours, upon hours in fear. I hadn’t given it any thought since I was a little kid. Aside from the good memories, such as watching the Curious George movie with my siblings on a warm summer morning in 2007, I remember panicking about it when I was all alone.

The night it changed; I was nine. It was long past my bedtime and I had school the next day. My stomach turned as my brain spiraled out of control. My make-shift room in the basement of my childhood home had been repurposed from a small office to an oversized bedroom that I so thrillingly shared with spiders, the dark, and my overwhelming thoughts. Despite the unnecessary amount of space I had, I felt so trapped. Coming off a hot streak of realizations, including my discovery of the fact that Santa wasn’t real, and that the WWE was staged, I took a deep dive into an abyss of analysis into what was real and what was fake. And then, the mother of all struggles occurred.

I was raised Catholic and didn’t think much of it for most of my early years. We honestly weren’t very committed churchgoers. My siblings and I would fight with our parents pretty often about attending church early on Sunday morning. We kind of all just accepted the fact that our mother wanted us to be Catholic. So, I never really delved deeper into a spiritual awakening, I just did as I was told. But time and time again, I discovered I shouldn’t simply accept the world that is placed in front of me and the fact that I will only find truth in life by constantly questioning my reality, I began to question my mother’s teachings. I froze. As if I was hit on the top of the head, my brain began buzzing, and I fell down a rabbit hole, a psychotic conundrum of thought. The topic of my panic: what happens when we die?

“What happens after this, what happens, what happens, what is happening to me”? I couldn’t stop. For the first time in my life, I was spiraling. My blood curled, I felt it in my face. I rolled into a ball and clenched my stomach to avoid spilling out its contents. I felt my fingers numb and my brain freeze. All of this, as if no other human being had gone through a spiritual crisis or could understand my confusion and panic.

I continuously asked, “what if…”, and it never ended. At nine, I was bargaining with myself to come to terms with something that no human had ever completely understood. My panic stirred so deep into the night, that I was met with my father’s questioning, the next morning, as he prepared for his day.

“What’s wrong Anthony, you’re freaking out. What happened?”

“It’s nothing, it’s nothing, Dad. I’m fine.” I figured if I didn’t say it out loud then it wouldn’t be true.

“No Anthony seriously, this stops right now. What’s wrong?”

I didn’t want to invite my poor father into this personal hell of my over analysis of the spacetime continuum. So, I simplified it to the catalyst of my fear and promptly begged,

“Dad, what really happens when we die?”

He paused. I never knew if he did so to make me feel understood and calm me down or to actually process the question. Regardless, he resolved.

“You’ll understand when you’re older.”

And instantly, I was relieved. I never understood why. But from that moment forward, I never feared death or thought about it again. At least not in the science-fiction, fantastical, terrifying way my brain had me pondering in those moments. Not once, did I waste an ounce of my time fearing death, not until much later.

Part Two: Body Separation

Upside down

Who's to say what's impossible and can't be found

I don't want this feeling to go away

Please don't go away

-Jack Johnson

I remember my dad’s face when I got the car. As I drove out of my driveway, alone, for the first time, he waved goodbye. And it was at that moment, I realized I was grown up. I wasn’t the kid he had calmed down years before. I had a new cast of characters in my life. Friends he didn’t know but they were the people I brought my concerns, dreams, and questions to. I became my own person without even realizing it. And he wasn’t waving goodbye to me. He was waving goodbye to the little kid he had known all the years prior. He was waving goodbye to my childhood.

But time marched on and I became incredibly fond of my car. I drove all the time. I mean all of the time. Every month of the year, everywhere my friends or I went. I was always the one driving and I loved it.

Massachusetts winters are pretty brutal and it's usually hard to find something to do. So my car became not only a vehicle of physical transportation but an escape from the freezing cold and lack of activity. That car brought me together with so many people. The sheer amount of people who had taken a ride in my car had become a running joke. It encapsulated my entire teenage experience; it brought me so far away from home yet together with so many people.

The summer returned and it was time for one of my childhood best friends to go to school. I was the last person to send them off as I dropped them off to their house after spending the entire night out in commemoration of our years together.

I remember returning home, alone, after the sunrise, devastated. It was one of the most painful goodbyes I’ve ever had to do. It was a goodbye, not a see you soon.

So, when my dad found me in my car, he comforted me and asked why I was so upset.

“My childhood’s over dad. I’m not a kid anymore, and I don’t know how and don’t want to be an adult”.

He paused again and gave me time to relax. We both knew I just needed to get some sleep.

“I never grew up. I’ve aged but we’re all still kids at heart” he offered.

Time marched on. And despite my initial doubt of my dad’s input, he was right. I had aged but I was still a little kid at heart. This became clear as I sat in my bed on a windy December night and began to panic again.

“What happens when we die”?

I hadn’t thought about that in nearly a decade. It hadn’t kept me awake, late at night, since I was nine. But here I was all grown up panicking in my top bunk in a new house, in a new room. The location, people, and time changed, but my fear remained the same.

Only this time, the fear sweltered unlike ever before. I found myself at a crossroads once again. However, my dad’s words and my logic would not comfort me. I needed something more.

But, after dwelling for over a month, I received my answer in the most unexpected scenario.

Part Three: Entering Darkness

Once in a while, when it’s good

It’ll feel like it should

And they’re all still around

And you’re still safe and sound

And you don’t miss a thing

‘Til you cry

When you’re driving away in the dark

-Also, John Mayer

The moments leading up to the crash were so normal, completely tranquil. I regret not paying attention to what song was playing; I was so focused on where I was going that I forgot to take-in where I was.

The road we were travelling down was a two-lane highway. Visibility was terrible, there were no streetlights the entire way as we drove through a road carved through the wilderness. The pine trees towered over the car, looming left to right; the moon casting their shadows onto the pavement. A light fog spilled onto the road perpetuating the gloominess of the scene.

I remember looking out the window and noticing a valley of dead trees. I wondered what had happened to them, all the way out there, alone. I had traveled that road before, many times. When I was younger, I never noticed the dead trees. I must have been enamored by the color of the other ones. But my attention no longer resided with what is. What once was seemed to be the solution to all my problems.

If I could just figure out why, then I’d feel safe again.

Why had all of this happened?

Why are we here?

Why me?

I became a full-time philosopher as a compulsion for my obsessive thoughts. To no avail, of course. None of it mattered anyway.

As I continued traveling down the road, I realized how comfortable I had become with it. The low visibility, the spooky trees, the moonlight, the life and death no longer stroking fear as I moved along.

I had traveled this road so many times before that I was as familiar with its features as I was myself.

So, it was in complete shock when I slowed down and took a left turn off the road only to be met with a blinding flash of white, followed by immediate darkness.

Part Four: Seeing the Light

The sun is going down

There's shadows all around

And I feel more than wine

We must do this again sometime

But I can't tell you when

But what a joy it's been

All that we have is now

- Jesse Winchester

…

My dad and I have a term for the situations life throws your way when you are doing one thing and then find yourself completely lost in an unexpected situation. We refer to this special place of confusion/limbo as “Claire’s Living Room”.

To provide an example of this phenomena without going into detail of its origins, I realized I was in Claire’s Living Room as I sat alone in a hospital bed, with an IV in my left arm, listening to the staff count down to the new year in the break room.

2020 was a tumultuous year, but I truly did not expect to be welcomed into 2021 by a man in a cloak in a blindingly bright room. That man, of course, being one of the nicest doctors I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. I just wish it had occurred under different circumstances.

They checked my vitals, all was well. Some slight bruising on my right ribs, but nothing that wouldn’t heal in a matter of days to weeks.

“Do you have any other concerns or questions for me?” He asked at just about two in the morning.

I couldn’t believe I was alive and okay. No one was seriously injured. No one had died. Yet, it felt like a part of me had been permanently altered. The crash was bad; really bad. Fortunately, both cars had done their job and protected every passenger. Everyone was wearing their seat belts and no other cars were there at the time of the accident. The street shut down for a short period of time to assist in the tow and clean up of both cars.

My memory of the aftermath begins with me already out of the car. I must have subconsciously exited the vehicle after getting hit with the airbags. The car was totaled. Immediately. Way gone. I remember watching the first officers and passersby see my car and look in disgust at how twisted it was. I was still out of it, so noticing other people looking shocked to see me standing on my feet brought tears to my eyes.

I wasn’t hurt, at least not physically. I went back into the wreck to find my phone. As more people began arriving at the scene, more strangers, cops, firemen, I began to panic. The situation was easily the most overwhelming experience of my life. And loud. I mean earth shatteringly loud. From the moment of impact, to the ringing in my ears, to the first responders, the sirens, the people.

But I couldn’t find my phone. I needed to call my parents and tell them to come to the scene. I needed them to know I was okay, to hear my voice before a police officer called them to inform them, I had been involved in an accident.

I was petrified that my parents would think I was dead.

After a few minutes of searching, I asked one of my friends to call my dad. My dad would explain to me later that my friend’s phone call sent him into panic. Apparently, he was sitting with my mom when he received the call. My friend was so shaken up that he could barely get the words out.

“Anthony, you need to get here.”

“What’s wrong? Where are you? Is everyone okay?” My dad immediately grabbed his things and waved my mom toward the garage.

“Down North Street, outside the state police barracks. We got into an accident, it’s really bad you just need to get here now”.

For about ten minutes, I had no way of communicating to my parents to let them know I was okay. For ten minutes, my parents feared the chance that I might have died. Something no parent should have to think about or go through. Certainly, something I would never have wished to have forced my parents to think about.

It was easily the most painful and anxiety inducing ten minutes of my life. Ten minutes of pure fear. And the people, more people, constantly more people. I had never seen so many people in one place in my entire life. The lights, the noise, the people.

My heart beat wildly, my brain froze once again, my stomach turned in my panic.

But when my parents arrived at the scene and I hugged them and told them I was okay, all my fear absolved.

I never understood how fast something as simple as seeing your family face to face could be taken away in the blink of an eye.

In a flash.

…

As I sat in that hospital bed, I realized I had the answer to my fears, crisis, and confusion all along.

In the face of death, all that matters is love. The only truth in life is found within. Love is the answer: all there ever was, is, and will be. And through love, life is eternal.

I’m not going to sit here and validate the specific hypothesis on near-death-experiences because I truly don’t know. What I will say is that the stages of life, growth, and change all coincide with the supposed course of a near-death-experience. And I don’t know that I would have found solace in my quest for answers if I hadn’t come that close to losing it all.

When I got a taste for nothing, I returned to find everything.

Part Five: Entering the Light

I've looked at life from both sides now

From win and lose and still somehow

It's life's illusions I recall

I really don't know life at all

-Joni Mitchell

Since I was a little kid, I’ve always loved contrails. People usually miss them and/or have no idea what I’m talking about when I use the term. Contrails are the clouds released by planes in the sky. The next time you’re outside, look up and I’m sure you’ll see one. I remember, during early quarantine, not seeing a single plane in the sky as if time had come to a halt. No contrails. Our inability to be with each other prevented their spirited existence within the sky.

When I was younger, I was amazed by them. I always felt like I was watching an artist paint massive strokes up in the sky. They’re beautiful, truly amazing things.

The next time I saw a plane leaving its mark in the sky, contrails had taken on a new meaning. Instead of the stroke of an artist, they are the mark of a lifetime; mysteriously appearing out of thin air, releasing a beautiful stride for all to see, and gradually fading to the stars.

Acknowledgements

I want to thank my family and anyone else that’s ever loved me into being. I love you.

[cherryblossomcrush]

kwon soonyoung (hoshi) | university au

This is just really long lil headcanon since I’ve not finished writing any of my wips or gotten close to completion, I’m really sorry :(

infatuated hoshi x oblivious and conflicted reader (ft wingman jihoon)

so,, hoshi is known to be a bright ray of sunshine that dances amazingly and,,, well,,,, a bit of an unorganised student

the reason being, is that he’s so passionate about dancing and dedicates most of his free time practicing his free time including sleeping a full 8 hours

whenever he has class scheduled in the morning he wakes up late, phone in hand and bag on his shoulder as he runs out of his dorm screaming his head off

he only just makes it in time for class and when he sits down, he sets up his phone to record the lesson and falls asleep immediately

you know of hoshi, and vice versa, through mutual friends

you’ve met before and talked a bit, but you aren’t what would be considered close friends even though you both share the same music class

and as it turns out, his reputation precedes him as you idolise him for his creative choreography, undeniable talent and outgoing personality

you have also always wanted to be friends with him,,, but deep down, you feel like you’d like to be a bit more than just friends

you happen to sit beside him by chance one day and see him go about his routine but,,,

halfway though the class you notice his phone is running low on battery

so being the kind person you are, you sacrifice your own phone’s battery to save hoshi’s grades

and as if a curse has been lifted, hoshi wakes up once class is done and packs up to leave

but before he can, you take your chance to speak up “you’re actually pretty smart”

and hoshi is like ?? what do you mean???

so you explain “oh, I just never thought to record lessons”

and he’s,, kinda embarrassed but also pretty bashful at someone calling him smart

meanwhile you realise that you have no means of sharing the rest of the video that you took for him so you abruptly ask “by the way, what’s your phone number?”

and hoshi just,,, he’s shook to say the least like how sudden yet smooth was that??

and you quickly realise from his expression that,, oh,,, oh no,,,,, this is a BIG misunderstanding

“I just wANTED TO KNOW BC YOUR PHONE RAN OUT OF BATTERY AND I TOOK A VIDEO FOR THE REST OF THE LESSON FOR YOU-” but you stop before you embarrass yourself any further

,,, and you two just stand there awkwardly in silence for a while,,,

“I-I have something really important that I need to attend to s-so,, uh you could ask jihoon for my number, sorry”

you don’t know why, but you can’t help but feel dejected as you let out a quiet sure and watch him go

“that boy,, is so dumb”

is the first thing jihoon says after you finish telling him about the whole ordeal

“he’s so careless and im sorry that you had to do this for him”

“no it’s okay, I just thought that we could be friends if I did this”

and jihoon is like “friends?? I thought you were-” until he realises that oh,,, OH i get it now

and you’re like whatwhatwhat

but all jihoon says is “nothing~” before he tells you where to find hoshi if you want his number

and,, you frown bc you don’t want to be rejected again,,, especially in person,,, TWICE

instead, you say goodbye to jihoon as you go back to your dorm to study

a few hours later, you get a text from jihoon saying “i need some help with writing lyrics for my song. go to the recording room, ill be there in a bit.”

it’s weird and unlike him, but you comply and make your way there and see jihoon smiling brightly

“hey, thanks for coming here on short notice, but could you going into the recording booth? I need to see if this sounds good with the melody”

you agree, entering the dark room and, low and behold, it’s a confused hoshi staring back at your equally confused face

“hoshi?”

“he locked me in here”

then you hear a little familiar laugh as the door closes behind the two of you with a click and jihoon talking through the mic

“hey nerds, talk to each other and confess or whatever and I’ll let you out”

and hoshi lets out an awkward laugh “so uh this is weird, I’m sorry about jihoon I had no idea that he’d do something like this”

you want to brush off the apology and make a joke but you’re curious, too curious about what jihoon meant “what did he mean by confess?”

hoshi’s laughter quietens down as he starts to fiddle with his shirt and a light blush appears on his cheeks

“w-well, I kinda have a thing for you. I really admire you and your musical talent,,, m-maybe I admire you a bit too much”

and you’re like “oh wow,, I don’t know what to say” bc you’ve admired him from afar for such a long time and you’re unsure about your feelings

and suddenly hoshi has felt the same?????

“its okay, please don’t feel pressured, you don’t have to say anything.” so you don’t and just sit there until you speak up again

“I really respect you and your talent, and I don’t want to confuse my feelings with that”

and hoshi,,,, hoshi lets out a soft defeated oh then says “so do you have feelings for me or?”

“I’m not entirely sure” and it’s silent again

jihoon thinks that he may have messed up big time and is about to get up to unlock the door when,,, “how about we go on a date? just to help confirm your feelings?”

at first you’re shocked, caught off guard at hoshi’s sudden proposal, but you consider it “ok, one date but please don’t get your hopes up”

hoshi is ecstatic and jihoon is pleased with himself, finally letting the two of you out

“don’t forget to exchange numbers!” and you don’t but only thanks to jihoon

that night, hoshi texts you the details of your date for next week and your heart jumps a bit at the thought

the next few days hoshi greets you with a smile, sits next to you and goes to sleep during class

you never notice it but he actually looks really,,, adorable,, even with drool coming out of his mouth

the night before your date with hoshi, you’re panicking and need jihoon to calm you down

“he’s whipped, fifty dollars he’d genuinely compliment if you showed up covered in blood. also, why are you so worried about how you look if you don’t like him that way?”

“I never said I didn’t return his feelings, I was just confused”

“but now you’re sure?” you dont respond and instead look through your clothing for an outfit to wear when your friend advises you to go for a dress and heels

but once you meet with hoshi, you feel overdressed when he leads you to an arcade

though he assures you saying “it’s fine and you look beautiful” and making you blush

as the date progresses, you begin to have fun and learn more about hoshi

“I like dancing a lot, but I want to write my own songs, in fact jihoon has been helping write lyrics”

“is that how he lured you into the recording studio?”

“pFt what? no,,,,,,,,, yeah it was”

hoshi lead you to his favourite game, and surprise, it’s ddr

but what hoshi doesn’t know is that you’re beast at ddr and beat the renowned dancer at his own game,,, quite literally

“I think I’m in love”

“shut it kwon, we’re here to fight to the death”

“,,,,,, through the language of LOVE AKA DANCING”

it’s all fun and games until the clock hits 9 pm and you realise that you have a song to finish composing within two days

so, gentleman hoshi drapes his jacket over your shoulders and escorts you home

the walk is silent, not awkward and tense like before, but,,, comforting

“ive always wanted to be a dancer, nothing else ever really came to mind whenever someone asked what I wanted to be” hoshi’s voice is soft as he speaks

“everyone has always said that it’s not realistic, that it’s too competitive, that I might get hurt,,,” you continue to listen, his voice becoming croaky

“I’ve been told that the dancing is the only thing I know how to do and even im not considered good enough no matter how much I practice,,,

you hold his hand and squeeze it in reassurance ”,,, or that I’m not smart enough for any normal job and that’s why I chose dancing as my major"

“at first i envied how smart and talented you were so I tried to compete against you secretly, but over time, I began to realise that you weren’t competition, but someone I looked up to”

“you were one of the main reasons why I continued to dance, because you motivated and gave me the courage and strength to continue, thank you”

you’re too shocked and flustered at the revelations to notice that you’ve arrived as you absentmindedly watch hoshi walk away

you could turn around and go to your room,,,,, or,,, you could chase after hoshi right now at this very moment

you choose the latter, running in heels to catch up to hoshi

“oh my god, are you ok-”

“I was wrong”

when those words leave your mouth, hoshi believes that he has never felt so confused about anything until he met you

“before I said I didn’t want to mix my adoration with artificially forced love but really,,, i confused liking you with idolising you because, well, you’re kwon soonyoung, super star dancer hoshi,,,, and im just me”

it’s your turn to be confused and surprised as hoshi takes your hand into his kisses you gently

and wow,,, WOW fireworks are going off in your head

“even if you or others view yourself as average, that would be far from the truth, and even if that was true,,, Id still love you the way you are”

this time, you initiate the kiss and both pull away with wide goofy grins

“does this mean we can go on more dates?”

“mhm, just remember that i rule at ddr, dance king”