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#so i would have to find a whole new doctor and shit to change it
nebulouswaters · 1 year
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I'm havin a rough go at it folks
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serana666 · 2 months
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Getting on my soapbox about something I think is REALLY important for chronically ill ppl to think about.
Being undiagnosed and disabled is a terrible experience. You’re screaming into the medical void for ANYONE to please SEE YOU and help. You start thinking “is it just me? Could it just be in my head? What’s wrong with ME?”
And I’m here to tell you, it’s 👏🏻NOT YOU👏🏻 it’s THEM. (The doctors)
I have been through the grueling process of becoming totally disabled by chronic illness, without knowing what it could be. I picked up diagnosis’ along the way: RA, then lupus, then fibro. And I am LUCKY that my blood worked with me to show those things, not everyone is so lucky.
I kept thinking (foolishly buying into the narrative doctors try and sell you) that if I could just get a *serious* diagnosis I would finally be given access to the care I needed, that ALL disabled people need. That was never the case at any step in the process.
When I was diagnosed with RA and began having symptoms outside of it, that were completely debilitating my rheumatologist told me I just needed more exercise and activity. I told them specifically I had fatigue so strong that I was loosing the ability for basic functioning.
When I found a new rheumatologist and was diagnosed with lupus I thought my troubles were over. Then she started saying weird shit like “do you have a boyfriend? You’re so pretty!”
She found out I was a lesbian when I brought my girlfriend to my appointment to be my advocate. Her whole demeanor changed to me and I spent 6-8 months with her receiving no treatment. They kept saying “oh it’s the insurance” nope they sent me letters telling me this office was not following up.
So I moved to a blue state literally out of fear that I would die waiting on these bigoted doctors. I got a rhum in a blue state. I was diagnosed with secondary fibro. Again, I foolishly believed I would finally be in the clear. No, she still minimizes and blinks at me when I describe my pain.
Doctors are not our allies, even though they should be above all else. They find ANY excuse to minimize us. So if you are someone who is undiagnosed or with a diagnosis that is misunderstood/not taken seriously , they will milk that for all it’s worth. 👏🏻ITS NOT YOU👏🏻
I’ve seen people in disabled communities minimized for their race, their weight, their gender, their sexuality/queerness, their age, their diagnosis or the lack thereof, ITS NOT YOU!
You know your body, and the pain you feel BETTER than any doctor that has been trained to systemically ignore you!
Don’t let them tell you what your reality is. It’s such a knee jerk reaction for minorities to do this to themselves.
You deserve medical care that isn’t contingent on your doctors bias’. We NEED more empathy. Don’t let their disregard for your life leak into the love you NEED to give yourself. 💕
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txttletale · 9 months
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how would you recommend watching doctor who? there are so many different guys idk how it works.
so the thing about doctor who is that there's two shows -- classic who (1963-1989, doctors 1-7) and new who (2005-2023, doctors 9-14). due to a renumber of the seasons and a change in production company, i think it's fair to call the upcoming version of who (2023-??, doctors 15-??) its own, third show. the reason it's been able to run for so long is that when the show's lead actor, (william hartnell as the titular doctor) had to step down in 1966 due to failing health, they made up some sci-fi bullshit: the doctor's species can 'regenerate' instead of dying, instantly healing but changing their appearance and some of their personality. this means that every time a lead actor has walked away (or, in one unfortuante case, been fired) the show's just recast the doctor and moved on, often with notable changes in tone and format.
the easiest option if you don't want to backwatch anything is to start with this year's christmas special, the church on ruby road (2023). it's an obvious jumping on point to the series, introduces you to all the basic stuff (the doctor, the TARDIS, the fact that it's a silly sci-fi show about fighting weird rubber prop critters), and presumably sets up the upcoming season 1 of the disney-bad wolf version of the show that's gonna come out in may 2024.
if you do want to backwatch, you have to decide if you want to start with new who or classic who. i personally would recommend starting with new who, because there's less of it, it's got higher production values, and (imo this is the biggest obstacle to getting into classic who) it's paced in a way that makes much more sense to a modern TV viewer (self-contained 45-minute episodes). also once you're invested in the show, its main character, and some of its classic elements, you get to soyjak at the screen whenever you're watching classic who and you get to see the oirign of a monster you already recognize. you can also skip classic who entirely and never watch it, they don't bring up anything from it in the new series without giving it a new explanation, but if you do this you hate fun.
anyway, starting points for nuwho: the most obvious one is rose (2005). it's the pilot episode for the new show and imo it holds up brilliantly -- it introduces all the most basic concepts of the show, but ultimately it's really all about billie piper and cristopher eccleston's performances and they deliver. the special effects are gonna be pretty terrible for a while because it's early 2000s cg. there's no jumping on point like it for the whole of RTD's run of the show (imo, the best run of nuwho) so if you want to watch seasons 1-4 you've gotta start on rose.
another episode that's written as a jumping on-point is (heavy sigh) the eleventh hour (2011). as well as introducing matt smith's doctor and his companion amy, this also does the whole rigamarole of introducing the show's core elements, giving a nutshell recap of its history in the form of the doctor's rooftop speech, and also signal what the oncoming moffat era is going to be like (whimsical, full of complex time travel plots, way more misogynist). i'm biased -- i'm a hater, one of this episode's central plot conceits sucks real bad and i also hate the eleventh doctor's whole run. but it is meant to be a jumping on point.
there won't be another one of those in nuwho until the pilot (2017). this begins moffat's final season with which he made the odd but extremely welcome decision to jettison all his convoluted continuity shit from the last five seasons and refocus the show with the doctor being a professor at bristol university with a mysterious secret. i think season 10 is a hidden gem and if you find starting from rose daunting this is the next best place to pick up. capaldi's doctor is a delightful abrasive eccentric with a heart of gold at this point in his run & the stories are wall-to-wall bangers with only a couple misses.
finally, you could start on the woman who fell to earth (2018), the first episode to feature jodie whittaker's 13th doctor and head writer chris chibnall. i'd recommend this even less than the eleventh hour, because while i actually like it more, i think it's a much worse preview of what the upcoming era is going to be like than that one. if you watch the woman who fell to earth and keep watching from the start of whittaker's run on the show off the back of it, you're going to be severely disappointed as most of the more promising aspects of the episode get instantly abandoned.
so, summary, if you're starting with nuwho, there's five jumping on points, which i'd rank:
rose > the pilot > the church on ruby road > the eleventh hour > the woman who fell to earth
but i want to start with classic who because i'm a contrarian
alright. classic who also has a few jumping off points -- before i mentioned them, let me just talk about that format thing i mentioned earlier. classic who doesn't have self-contained episodes for the most part, but rather for most of its run told each of its episodic narratives across between two and seven 20-minute episodes. this leads to a lot of weird pacing, forced cliffhangers, and infamously a lot of filler shots of the doctor running up and down identical corridors. so obvsies i'm recommending entire stories here nad not individual episodes. that said, let's look at where you could jump on:
an unearthly child (1963). this is, like, the start of the show. that said i don't recommend it as a place to start (funnily enough), for a couple reasons. firstly, because of dreadful fucking archiving by the BBC, a lot of episodes from the show's first six seasons are straight up missing. some of them have been animated by the BBC from surviving audio recordings, but some of them are just straight up lost -- due to the format, this means there's very few full complete stories, which makes this whole era really hard to navigate. if you don't mind that and really want to start in the black and white era, i'd still recommend the tomb of the cybermen (1967) instead -- hartnell's portrayal of the doctor as a haughty, slightly impish old professor is great, but troughton basically defined the character's core traits for the next sixty years.
spearhead from space (1970) is a pretty big format upheaval for the show and so serves as a pretty great classic jumping-on point. it's the first episode to be in colour, and sets up a new status quo for the doctor as being trapped on earth and working for an elite paramlitary organization called UNIT that operates out of a ratty office. it's an interesting premise that the show gets some great stories out of. the special effects are bad in the best way. pertwee has instant charm in the role and it's all around a banger by classic standards.
if you want to jump right to the one all the boomers are nostalgic for, you can also start with robot (1974). i wouldn't recommend it, though--tom baker is electric in the role from the start, but the episode itself kind of assumes a lot of the context of the third doctor's setup and supporting cast which you're not gonna have.
i wouldn't recommend anyone start at any point during the fifth or sixth doctors runs because i want them to actually like the show, so i guess the last jumping on point i could really recommend after robot would be, like, dragonfire (1987), which heralds the show's short-lived renaissance with the seventh doctor and his best companion, ace. but although you'd be watching some of the absolute best the classic show ever gets, it feels like it would be a weird and disorienting place to start.
finally, you could watch tales of the tardis (2023), a limited series produced to celebrate the show's 60th anniversary. each episode follows the same format: through a vaguely handwaved Palace of Memories plot, two much-aged characters from the classic series meet up and fondly remember one of the adventures they shared. the bookends with the original actors are mostly shameless fanservice, but the episodes they're reminiscing about are superbly edited down into a much more watchable format -- it works as a good 'sample platter' for most eras of the show (although, weirdly, there wasn't anything from tom baker's run!) and i think it honestly wouldn't be a bad shout to just start from tales of the tardis and then keep watching from whichever of the stories featured in it you liked most. that all said, if you want to start with classic who, i'd rank these jumping on points as follows:
spearhead from space > tales of the tardis > tomb of the cybermen > dragonfire > robot > an unearthly child
all that shit said it's fundamentally a very episodic show with very few exceptions like trial of a time lord and whatever moffat was doing seasons 6-7 so in the end you can basically just start with any episode and more or less get some of the idea. have fun and make sure to do the most important job of a doctor who fan, update the tardis wiki page for penis whenever one is mentioned
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fatuismooches · 9 months
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omg i just read a bunch of your work and it’s all so good???? it’s so rare to find imagines fanfic writers that are so clearly passionate about their work and it’s so awesome anyways i have a request !! i absolutely love your frail reader stuff… my health is kinda shit too so it’s really nice to read !! could i ask for dottore trying to attach an IV or help them but they’re scared of needles? dottore realizing they’re not scared of *him* but of just . the needle . and also being really really sweet and gentle while checking everything like vitals and whatnot since being checked up by a doctor puts them on edge usually . BASICALLY i’d looove to see dottore being sweet while working with a patient as opposed to . how he usually is 😭
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Dottore is a man who finds himself fascinated by many things. Most obviously, his research. His experiments. The limits of a human being, the stars of this world, the truth of Teyvat. How far he could push himself and others to satiate his curiosity. 
And last but certainly not least, you, his darling.
…Who was now huddled in the corner of his lab, refusing to move. Why? Because it was time for you to receive your first shot. You had only recently woken up from sleeping for four hundred years, so he stuck to other forms of medicine rather than needles in the beginning. But it had gotten to the point where needle injections were necessary for your health. However, you certainly didn’t find this new information pleasing. 
You’d peek out, see him with that large pointy grin with a needle in hand, and then try to inch even closer to the wall as if you were trying to disappear into it as you whimpered. Now, Dottore finds you predictable and unpredictable at the same time. Predictable because being with you for centuries has certainly allowed his mind to adapt and memorize all of your little quirks and possible reactions. Unpredictable because there are always times he finds himself surprised and then mildly exasperated at your behavior. But that’s what he likes about you. You’re not a boring doll like his other test subjects.
But this reaction… once again, he supposes he expected it but he didn’t at the same time. Funnily enough, Dottore is no stranger to your little tantrums when it comes to taking care of your health. Some kind of bizarre reaction from you wasn’t out of the question because he remembers the first time you ran away from taking your medicine.
When you realized your life would consist of daily checkups, your body constantly being hooked up to a lot of different things you really didn’t understand, and a whole bunch of other changes, you thought you could do it. You really did. Sure, it wasn’t easy, and it was scary and confusing and you cried at how different you were now but, you were getting through every day and that was what mattered.
However, ironically, your greatest enemy in life became medicine.
You should be grateful really, to have Dottore as your doctor. Although he certainly wasn’t a doctor to his other “patients”, he most definitely was to you. And he was a terrific one - attentive beyond human capability (not even including his segments), skilled, knowledgeable, adaptable, and attractive was also a good bonus. Hell, if it were anyone else besides him, you’d long be dead.
But one thing you absolutely despise is his talent for making the hardest-to-swallow medicine known to mankind.
Dottore had given you lots of different types of medicine since you woke up, experimenting with which was the most efficient. Although he did study how other bodies reacted to it before it entered your own system, it really didn’t spare you any pain because you always ended up dreading it. It wasn’t fun, no, but you had accepted it as your routine. 
Pills weren’t fun, but at least they were a quick swallow after you finished hyping yourself up to drink it. And, they were small or medium-sized. No biggie, right? But then came one time when you were utterly tricked. When Dottore presented you with medicine that you could drink easily rather than a pill, you were ecstatic.  
The syrup medicine was a nice color and looked like it would taste fine! But no, you should have known that the Doctor was a deceiving son of a- you get the point. The medicine tasted absolutely horrible, violating your taste buds. You would have spat it out, but it was already almost down your throat. You were genuinely thankful that medicine ended up being unhelpful to you because you don’t think you could have managed to swallow that every day.
Despite how every time you moaned and whined about it, you would steel yourself and take it anyway because you didn’t want to make Dottore’s life any harder, with how diligently he was working on these medicines solely for your sake.
But at one point, you just couldn’t take it anymore. What caused you to snap?
A pill that Dottore presented to you, that looked big even on his large hand. He had looked at you expectantly, while you looked at him incredulously, as your lover then placed it in your hand and set the glass of water to the side for you.
Okay [Name], you’ve endured all these trials so far. Surely you can handle this? You took a deep breath, slowly working up the courage to swallow it as Dottore waited, curiously looking at you. With a burst of energy, you brought it to your mouth, intent on gulping it, but stopped last minute. Your bravery had left you, as you brought the pill back to the table again. There was no way, just no way that was going in your throat without getting stuck. Just the thought of it was making you feel sick and anxious.
“I’m not doing it.” Dottore sighed.
“We’ve been through this countless times, [Name],” he shook his head as he walked to his desk, prepared to gather some things to work on because he was familiar with your agonizing long waits of trying to force yourself to drink your medicine. “Either you take it yourself, or I will be more than happy to help you myself.” The methods Dottore takes to “help” you take your medicine can be left up to the imagination.
“You won’t need to help me… because I’m not drinking that!” In a flash, you had bolted out the door, leaving the doctor alone in the room, blinking and processing what just happened before he rubbed his temples. Never, not once have you run away from taking medicine. Yes, you whined and begged him to let you skip it, just for one day (which he never indulged you in) but in the end, you’d always give in to your fate. Dottore walked over and picked up the pill, examining it. Was it really that bad?
Well, no matter. You’ll end up taking it anyway. His harshness comes from a good place at least, it is for your own sake after all.
Although you did put up a good fight, you never really had any chance of escaping in the first place, considering your rather poor health and stamina (and this is Dottore after all, no one gets away from him). But you just needed to put off that blasted medicine for a while longer, which was why you found yourself in your current situation.
In a stand-off with Omega, who had come to collect you and bring you back to Prime’s office, so you could finally take the pill. Beta was there too, as he was supposed to be helping, but he looked to be amused by the whole thing. Pointy teeth showed through as he watched the whole show, hands in his pockets. 
The “show” in question was how you were hiding behind a random Fatui agent, using the poor man as a shield, his soul definitely having left his body by now. Every time the segment tried to come closer, you’d physically move the agent’s body to block him from you. And well, even they couldn’t just kill the man like that. It would be quite funny, were it not for the fact that Omega was beginning to grow impatient and mildly annoyed that the other Fatuis were watching this go down. Not to mention the back and forth you two were having about how important it was for you to take the pill, versus your numerous arguments as to why you weren’t. Beta was just there cackling at the older segment’s predicament. But then all of a sudden, Omega backed off with a smile, giving you a chance to escape once again. Yes, you turned around, ready to dash for it, and then ran right into a solid wall.
There Prime Dottore stood, looking down at you with an unamused expression, at this little cat and mouse game. He didn’t really want to show this level of affection to you in front of the other agents, but he had no choice but to grab you and pick you up in his arms so you couldn’t run away anymore.
The other Fatuis could only stare at the scene, you kicking and flailing your arms, vehemently repeating how you weren’t going to drink that blasted thing, and about how evil and cruel he was. Eventually, he was able to make you swallow the pill, with the help of his other segments holding you down.
In the end, he had to ditch that pill because the struggle and tears you put up after that just weren’t worth it when there were better alternatives.
However, at least this time you didn’t run away. Instead, perhaps you thought holing up miserably in the corner would somehow make him sympathize with you and that he wouldn’t give you the needle. Unfortunately, you were incorrect. Dottore’s patients are to receive whatever treatment he deems necessary, even if it is you. Nevertheless, you are indeed a special patient. A special patient who receives special treatment, both medically and emotionally. So, it does make him feel a tiny bit sorry for you, seeing how scared you were. 
Though a part of him wonders, are you truly that afraid of a mere needle? Perhaps because he works with it every day, he cannot see how it could cause that much nervousness. Was it because of how he used it on others? Of course, you were no stranger to his less-than-ethical experiments on other people. But surely you knew that you wouldn’t be subjected to such conduct? Dottore ponders for a little while as you continue to crouch in fear. He wonders if he taught Zandy how to use the needle if that would make it less scary for you. But on second thought, you would probably get mad at him for trying to do that to his child segment.
But regardless of what either of you thought, you were getting that injection.
“[Name],” For once, his voice isn’t the normal tone that he takes on when you’re being difficult. So you lift your head and your eyes peek out from your knees as you pout at him. Dottore had set the needle to the side and walked closer to you, reaching his hand out to you, expecting you to get up and take it. With a sigh, you acquiesce and clasp your hand with his as he pulls you from the ground. Though you keep your eyes on the floor and your shoulders drooped, because you know that your fate is imminent. But Dottore tilts your chin so you’re forced to look up at him anyway.
“Why are you so insistent on acting like this?” Your partner questions.
“Because needles are scary,” you whine.
“But I am the one administering it. Nothing will happen.”
“Well, obviously I trust you,” you sigh in defeat. “I know you’d never hurt me. But that doesn’t make needles any less scary. And no matter what you say, I know I’ll still feel that prick of pain! I really don’t want it, Zandik!” You look up at him with pleading eyes. His fingers stroking your hair feels nice but it does little to relieve you of your anxiety. At that, Dottore merely stares for a few seconds before he pulls you to the operating table and helps you up. Well, at least you attempted to change his mind, you thought as you resigned yourself to the pain. You squeeze your eyes and tense your body, preparing for the inevitable prick, but instead, you feel hands slipping down your shirt and cool metal being pressed against your chest. Your eyes pop open as you turn to narrow your eyebrows at Dottore.
“What about the needle?”
“Forget about it. I will handle it another day,” Dottore waves off your concern, and all the stiffness in your body releases. Oh, you were so, so grateful. 
“Now breathe in for me,” Dottore requested. “And out. In. Out.” You did what he asked and he hummed as he recorded your heart rate or whatever he usually does, before moving to your back and repeating the same process. You liked how his hands felt on your body. They weren’t rough, uncharacteristically gentle even. Even though right now it was just professional procedures, it felt comforting. His hands always felt comforting.
Now that you think about it, although it sounds entirely untrue, Dottore was… the only doctor you had good experiences with. When you were a kid, you really didn’t like them. They usually… put you on edge. Unlike most children, the promise of candy did little to stop you from getting antsy during a check-up, and even the nicest doctors had their patience tested. But Dottore and the segments, well, despite their… tendencies, they did make you feel a lot better with your condition and all. It was really nice, to have people who wouldn’t give up on you or your health since you’ve been given up on in the past.
“I’ve heard that Alpha has been showing you the collection of Khaenri’ahn machines lately,” Dottore’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. He was fiddling with the variety of tools he used for the check-up.
“Hm? Oh yeah, we have!” Dottore moved to examine both ears as you spoke. “I mean, studying Teyvat’s new language all the time gets so boring. So I just make him show me the cool stuff during breaks!” Although Zandik’s fascination with the machines was much greater than yours in the Akademiya, his enthusiasm had rubbed off on you too and you found yourself intrigued as well. One thing that had never changed though, was his habit of dumping all his thoughts on you. Seriously, once you got Alpha talking, he wouldn’t stop until every detail of his research had been covered. It was cute. It reminded you of how Zandik used to do the same thing late at night.
“Is that so?” Dottore had moved to check your eye, shining the light at it.
“Mhm! You know, seeing all the things you know now, makes me think back to how much you searched for answers all those years ago. Pushing and pulling me all those places,” you smiled, thinking about how you were always dragged to all parts of Sumeru for him to quench his thirst by hopefully obtaining fruitful results from the expeditions. It was tiring, but good times. You wished you could go back. Dottore then tapped your lips and you opened your mouth as he briefly examined it before returning to his clipboard. For some reason, you feel as though this check-up is dragging on a lot more than usual, but you didn’t really question it because why would you question spending more time with your beloved?
“Yes, and you never failed to complain, did you? You grumbled more than you spoke about the data,” Dottore replied as he continued to do whatever other tests on you before he pulled up your sleeve to wrap the cuff around your arm to check your blood pressure. You rolled your eyes.
“You’re lying! I always engaged in conversation with our research,” you stuck your tongue out at him. “I always pulled my weight! Maybe you were too busy mumbling to yourself and spilling ink everywhere instead of listening to me.” Zandik had a habit of that. Getting too lost in his thoughts and leaving you to babble like an idiot when he wasn’t even paying attention. Dottore only chuckled as he continued to work, pumping the device. You didn’t even notice that he was also preparing a needle with his other hand, because you continued to ramble on.
“And you know what, you were always far worse. In the beginning, you were either talking about research all the time, or complaining about others, or complaining about me.” Just because Dottore was all suave and smooth and poised now didn’t mean you forgot about how much he was not anything of those things back then! The more you reminisced about it, the memories of being slightly infuriated by his attitude came rushing back. So much so that you didn’t register the cuff being swiftly removed from your arm, nor the feeling of Dottore adjusting your arm and the prick of something being injected into you. 
“And!! Pantalone always tells me how much you complain to him about not only the budget but also a wide variety of things! And Bina too, I’ve heard numerous stories of those poor agents falling victim to you, hmph,” you awaited a response but Dottore didn’t humor you like he usually did. So you turned to look at him, but instead, he was carefully placing a bandage on you. You blinked once at the sight, then at him, and then at the empty needle on the tray, the contents empty. It didn’t take long for your brain to process what happened.
“You… you tricked me! You said I wasn’t going to get the needle!” You fussed but Dottore only smirked, his sharp shark-like teeth on display.
“Yes, I did. But it doesn’t matter now, does it? Did you feel any pain?”
“Well…” He was right, you didn’t feel a thing. With all the conversation and his quick yet efficient fingers, the needle didn’t hurt. Ugh, so that was Dottore’s plan… getting you all riled up and distracted so he could finish the job. It was sneaky… but as you tenderly brushed the injection site that was a little sore, you were oddly touched… it was sweet. He didn’t need to go out of his way to do this. Really, another large pill situation could have happened.
“No, you didn’t,” Dottore finished the sentence for you before rolling down your sleeve and cleaning up the area. “There was no need for such drama in the first place. I told you that it would be fine.” You pouted at his bluntness. It was a bit mean, but he lived up to his word. You should have expected that. He always does, when it comes to you. “You have to stay here for a bit. I need to see if the shot will have any immediate adverse effects on you.”
“O-Okay,” you replied, still a bit dazed by how Dottore managed to do that. You wondered, just… how quick were his hands?? Then he placed a kiss on your lips, catching you off guard once again, but he pulled away before you could reciprocate. Ah, it was probably his way of saying ‘well done.’
“H-Hey, don’t just walk away! I deserve more kisses for the ordeal I just went through! Come back here!”
Dottore ended up giving you lots of kisses everywhere as he pinned you down on the operating table. If all check-ups ended like this one did, well, you’d look forward to them a lot more…
Bonus:
“Dottore?”
“Yes, [Name]?”
“Can you make them… gummy?”
“Make what gummy?” A few seconds of staring at you makes it click in his head. “No.”
“Please!!” Immediately you pull out your best pleading eyes with a pouting lip, having no shame in dropping to your knees and wrapping your arm around his leg in the tightest grip you could muster. “Please, if it were gummies instead of actual pills or needles, I’d never complain!” Dottore sighs, trying to shake you off but to no avail. It seems you’re dead set on this. 
“At least some of them, please, I’ll do anything.” By this point, your face is buried into his leg, all but begging for him to make medicine that is gummy. It was so ridiculous it would make him laugh, but the idea of him and his segments having to not go through the unthinkable in order for you to take your medicine is honestly quite appealing to the doctor.
“Alright,” he complies, which causes you to shoot up from the ground and grasp his hands with glee. “I will experiment to see what I can do.” You smile widely before thanking him profusely and kissing his cheeks and then his lips. Although he enjoys your affection, Dottore finds himself wondering if you’re okay yourself, because who gets this excited over gummies for medicine? And then he hears your next question.
“Can you make them different flavors too? And oh, gummy bear-shaped too! By the way, my favorite flavor is-”
“[Name].”
“I’m sorry.”
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payasita · 1 year
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Good job getting ADHD medication! I’m so proud of you :D
thanks so so much im very happy and so hopeful for the first time maybe ever but also it TOOK ME LIKE. A YEAR. A YEAR.
like yall for real?? for real. for real i have been diagnosed since i was like six. (funny story my teacher thought i was on the spectrum so my parents get me tested with the nodes and shit and according to mom, who loves this story, my neurologist did all that and talked to me and then just turned to my mom and went "she's not autistic. she just hates the other kids" but they DID find an adhd diagnosis in there so net win for all of us)
diagnosed since i was SIX. on stimulants until i turned 8, and you know why i got off em? my pediatrician retired. we could not find another who would take our low-income insurance. so i just had to rawdog The Rest Of My Fucking Life. diagnosed when i was six. legally neurodivergent for 20 slutty slutty angry years.
and it still took me like. a few months to get a psych appointment. a few weeks to reaffirm my diagnosis as an adult. a few more weeks for another appointment for meds. he doesnt Want to do meds first, because i must have been doing fine without them if its been two decades, right? i got a job and a car and everything. well gee fuckin shittickers Dr. Brain Guy, just WHAT was my alternative? would you prefer i be maladapted to the point of incapacitation; is that what it takes for someone to be considered? i cheated my way through school. every day after work i sit for an hour in my car because i dont have the executive function to stand up and walk the ten steps to my house. garbage just appears around me. i have three empty bags of hot chip and two cans of sprite on my desk as we speak, neither from today. at that point i hadnt had a debit card for six months because that would have required me to Drive To The Bank, a location that was new to me in this area, so i just did everything on credit. is this all normal? is this fine? am i GOOD, actually, Dr. WeirdBrain?
so we cordially agree that yes i should probably be medicated. i want to do a stimulant. he does not want to put me on a stimulant. "stimulants can mess with your heart," he says, "and you're young, you don't want heart problems." i say ok because i dont want to make him think im just looking for narcotics. even though i am. because they WORK. i agree to try some kind of antidepressant.
the antidepressant gives me tachycardia. i go to the emergency room after reading a heartbeat of, oh, 140 bpm, which is about like double what it normally is and juuuust below the You Are Having A Heart Attack threshold. i get to the ER and the doctor there is very obviously convinced i'm a local addict having some sort of episode. it is the most ironic experience i've had all year and i feel an abrupt and all consuming kinship with those birds in australia that will swoop you and peck at your face for seemingly no good reason.
so yeah, we narrow it down to the antidepressant. as it turns out, these particular meds are known to, semi-commonly, Mess With Your Heart. i have my next appointment with my psych and somehow refrain from pecking his eyes out. he puts me on a noreprinephrine inhibitor(iirc) that isnt actually FDA approved to treat ADHD specifically(i DEFINITELY rc) but it IS given to smokers to help them quit. i dont smoke. i may very well fucking start before this whole ordeal is at the point where someone listens to me
it obviously does a combined total of jack and shit, and the man waffles with this one because he has "had success" using it as treatment for other ADHD patients. he ups the dose. twice. three months on the smoker meds, which are also apparently notorious for destroying your appetite, but they didnt even do THAT. no change to the average amount of hot chip on my desk.
he wants to try quelbree after that. i finally tell him i'm tired of this shit and would like to have more than two hours of usable daylight to function before it all falls to uncontrollable youtube shorts binges and a daily experience i like to call The Weighted Nothings and i would very much like to PLEASE. TRY A STIMULANT.
he's been friendly enough with me over these past four or five or whatever months but at this he gets suddenly very very business-baseline. gives me the whole spiel about the north american shortage. gives me a spiel about how i absolutely cannot, under any circumstances, lose or sell this medication, because they will not refill it if i do. i am sitting here wondering if he he's telling the truth about having other ADHD patients at all like ever in his career, and also, am i nuts or should the "don't sell your prescription drugs" bit apply to EVERYTHING? i dont fuckin know man i just live here
he says he wants a urine test first. its scheduled for two weeks out. i take it.
"hey uh, your piss came back with cannabis in it" "well it'd be weirder if it didn't, we are in california and i am a kitchen manager" "you can't have weed if you want adderall" "fine i'll stop" "we'll schedule you another test in a month" "aight bet" it didnt go exactly like that but this is kind of what the vibe between us has devolved into by this point.
anyway i wait a month and get a good grade in piss. i get the meds prescribed. i go to fill out the prescription
all i really need to say to you are the words "prior authorization error" for most of you to get what happened next.
the psych isnt even aware. i wait another month for our next meeting, which was yesterday. i do not yell at him. he tells me to take it up with the pharmacy, and yell at them. i am going to yell at them.
so i go, and guess what, it actually went through a while ago! NO ONE TOLD ME OR DR. FEEL-BAD OVER HERE. but we can't fill it right now because its a controlled substance so come back in a few hours. hey it's ready where the hell are you? TAKE YOUR METH AND GET OUT
anyway i started it today, reorganized my pantry, and fixed the fire alarm in my hallway that's been chirping at me for a week. i no longer have to wear earplugs to bed.
and with my newfound executive function superpowers, i will be spraying my weed-free piss all over Reagan's grave.
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ohtobeleah · 8 months
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Was It Over? // Jake Seresin
-> Chapter Eleven: [The Man]
Summary: When Jake and Jensen go head to head over who means what yo you, things escalate to new heights, so much so that Jake lashes out and says something that may not be forgiven.
Warnings: Sick!reader. Breast cancer diagnosis. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Angst, hospital & medical inaccuracies. SLOW BURN ROMANCE/ Inaccurate medical information. Relationship turmoil. Mentions of religion. JEALOUS JAKE!
Word Count: 5.6K
Author Note: This chapter brings the total word count of this series to 50k....I cannot believe that an idea that began as a one-shot has turned into this. Thank you all so much for your support on this one. xxx
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There was a brief moment right before your shower where Jake was able to step out into the hall to call his sister Jasmine. He knew the call he was about to make was going to be neither short, nor pleasant. But he also knew that deep down, you weren’t mentally prepared to tell your children you were sick. But the pair of you had to start somewhere. And that somewhere was Jake’s sister. 
“What the FUCK is going on!” One single ring. One dial. That's how long it took Jake's sister to answer, hell, Jake thought it would have been sooner but he gave her a little good grace for potentially having to step out of whatever family dynamic she found herself in. “Mum said Y/n’s sick?” 
“Did she say it like that?” Jake replied unamused as he found an empty chair to sit on in the waiting room area down the hall. He didn't want to stray too far away from your room. Although he knew that you were with the nurses, he couldn't find it inside himself to leave. If Jake tried hard enough, he could still see your bed socks at the end of your hospital bed. 
“Uh–” Jasmine's apprehensive silence confirmed all Jake needed to know. “She may have said it with a little hope in her chest, mentioned the words dropped and dead in the same sentence of wishful thinking.” Jake couldn’t say he was surprised after the way Janeen had spoken so poorly about you directly to his face. He couldn't really imagine what she’d been saying to other members of the Seresin family. “But what's going on? I'm keeping an eye on the kids as much as I can but holy shit mum's just on a warpath–” 
Fuck: Jake knew leaving the kids behind was a bad idea on his behalf. The guilt of running off on his children in the middle of the night was beginning to eat him alive. The idea of lying to them about your condition only made that guilt harder to rationalise. 
“Okay, can you just promise me you won’t tell the kids?” Jake groaned into the phone. “Y/n doesn't want them to worry so she doesn't want to say too much.” 
“Jake–” Jasmine's voice changed, the serious nature of the conversation at hand was beginning to shine through with ease. “She's alright, isn't she?” Jasmine asked as Jake let his elbows rest on top of his thighs. This whole situation, the newly found world of which you were living in was begging to give Jake the head spins. Keeping up was exhausting, but this wasn't about Jake now was it. “This is Y/n we’re talking about, she has to be alright.”
Unbeknownst to you, Jake had been reading all your files, all your reports, everything and anything he could get his hands on about your diagnosis. After all, he had been named your emergency contact not long after showing up. He’d made a convincing case. Jake knew a lot about your current situation. He knew the odds, chances, risks and possibilities. 
“She's been diagnosed with Stage three A, triple positive grade three invasive doctoral carcinoma.” Jake explained to his sister who on the other end of the call, sat watching his youngest try to eat the sand from the sandpit Jake himself used to shit in as a child. “The oral chemo they had her started on caused a stroke, apparently it's a common side effect, to me they shouldn't be pumping people full of that crap if its gonna cause a fucking stroke forty percent of the time.” 
Jake knew the silence on the other end of the line was due to an overload of information getting caught in his sister's cerebellum. It was a lot to take in, hell Jake still hadn’t really been given an opportunity to take it all in. since he found out he’d been go go go. He knew an impending moment of weakness mixed with overall exhaustion was coming. When that moment would come he wasn't sure. 
“You’re lying–” Was all Jasmine said. Jake wished more than anything he could say he was. 
“Fucked up thing to lie about Jas–” Jake responded softly as he listened to the hustle and bustle of the hospital wing his sat in. “She hadn’t been feeling well for a few months, Doctors say it's aggressive, feeds off her hormones and stuff.” Jake didn't understand a lot of it, but he was trying his best to navigate a field he wasn't an excerpt in. “She's in for a preventative double mastectomy on Christmas Eve. It would've been earlier but the strokes kinda set her back a few days.” 
“Jake– I don't believe you, the kids–what about the kids, what do I tell them?” Jasmine couldn't comprehend the devastation this would cause on the already struggling family dynamic. You and Jake were meant to be, everyone knew that. But this whole separation, the miscommunication and overall fractures within your marriage were all major contributing factors as to why love just couldn’t be enough.
“Don't tell them anything, please, for the love of God Jas don't tell them anything, I just–” Jake let out a sigh of frustration as he ran his hand free hand through his hair. God he needed a haircut. “We just need a little time to process what's going on and Y/n–she's been doing this for too long on her own, I can’t keep letting her down so just, take a moment to breathe for me.” 
“Holy fuck you aren’t kidding about any of this are you?” Jasmine with all her good graces and problematic marital issues of her own, looked over at where her husband sat with hers and Jake's father. The sight was enough to send a shiver down her spine. The man who raised her was not someone who Jasmine ever wanted her brother to become. Losing your wife to such a disease that was as unforgiving as it was inhumane could potentially be an origin story bubbling under the surface of Jake's skin. 
“Jake–You don't get to turn into dad if this ends anything less than Y/n walking away from this cancer free Jake, your kids deserve to have a dad that won't treat them like burdens and mistakes.” 
***~***~***~***~***~***~**
“Watch your step alright?” Our skulls are designed to cushion our brains. Our rib cages are specifically moulded to guard our hearts. The human body is built to protect our most vulnerable parts. At least, that’s how it’s supposed to work. 
The way in which Jake helped to guide you out of the bathroom with his hand pressed firmly against the small of your back made your heart skip a beat. You held tightly onto his forearm with one hand and in the other? Was your IV poll, still pumping you full of antibiotics and fluids. 
“I got it.” You tried to focus on just putting one foot in front of the other. That's what this whole thing was about right? This battle, this fight. It was all about putting one foot in front of the other. With Jake by your side, albeit with some underlying resentment still to be discussed, you felt as though those steps, small but meaningful in their own right, were made with intent and purpose to keep fighting. “Shit the air-con feels so weird on my head.” You chuckled to yourself as Jake shut the bathroom door behind the both of you. 
“Yeah holy shit it's like–” As Jake's eyeline faltered from you to the figure standing over near the door, his heart sunk into his stomach. His face turned to stone as the green in his eyes, usually an emerald colour, darkened to something more pine-like. The half finished sentence that left your husband's mouth and tailed off into complete and utter silence was what got your attention the most. It wasn't like Jake to not say what was on his mind. 
“What's up?” As you turned your head slowly, you saw the man who had been nothing but a pillar of support for you to lean on since your diagnosis. It was the man who had kept you above water when you felt like you’d been drowning in a sea of unprecedented mortality. “Jensen–” The shock and excitement in your tone was something Jake couldn't miss no matter how much he wanted to. “You came?” 
Jake made no attempt to move as you shuffled forward, he stood still with his heart hammering inside his chest. He stood completely still as his thoughts carried him away into a world where nothing made sense to anyone. Into a world where he didn't have you, a world where for the last year he’d tasted of that very misery and hated every last second of it. 
“I uh–” Jensen held out the bouquet of sweet peas, peonies and pansies he’d brought for you. The overwhelming colours and signature scents captivated the entire room with their freshness. “I wanted to stop by, see how you were doing, hope I'm not intruding?” 
The body tends to adapt quickly to new circumstances and pressures it’s put under. It knows how to protect itself. But it can’t close off completely, or well—we’re not really living are we? Biology tends to override our fears, so we leave the door open, just a little…hoping like hell that it's worth the risk. 
“Oh no, no we just finished up some DIY haircuts.” You beamed, the smile that ignited across your face was a smile Jake hadn't seen in years. A smile so pure and full of love that it couldn't ever be faked. “Jake, this is Jensen.” You introduced the two men who had played significant roles in your life, having no clue that they had both already met one another in the hall. “We met at the doctors office, as unfortunate as that sounds, it's been really nice to have someone who just, knows.” Jake slowly but surely aided you over to your bed before he made his way over to where Jensen stood watching idly. Assessing the situation unfolding before him. “Jensen convinced me to go to a few of those CCA meetings, although not my cup of tea–it's nice to know that that support system is there.” 
Jake eyed Jensen and his bouquet of flowers off as he stepped closer and closer with a look Jensen couldn't quite read in his pine green eyes. The betrayal of love often has boundaries that people end up living with for the rest of their lives. For Jake, his betrayal and the consequences of his emotional ineptitude inside his marriage was starting to play out right before his very eyes. 
He saw the potential that there was in fact another man. And oh boy did he hate it. 
“And Jensen, this is Jake, my husband.” Jensen took subtle notice of the way you introduced Jake to him as your husband, not your ex-husband like you'd been referring to him as since the two of you first met. Something had changed, Jensen could sense it. But for as much as Jensen could sense the chemistry between you and Jake, Jake could see the way your eyes lit up with overjoyous surprise when you realised that the flowers Jensen held in his hand were in fact for you. “Are those, are those for me?” 
“Oh–yeah.” Jensen beamed as he walked a little further into your room. “I thought they might bring a little light into your room but it seems that you have it pretty well decorated.” It was the small nod to the Christmas lights that hung around your room that made you smile even brighter as Jake made his way back over and helped you into bed. You could tell there was tension brewing just from his quietness alone. “And the new haircut suits you, good thing you don't have a weird ass head huh?”
“Hey Jarred–” Jake interrupted before you had a chance to reply, the way he intentionally called Jensen by a different name rubbed you the wrong way. The frown that cast itself across your face left little to Jake's imagination, but as he made sure you were as comfortable as could be in your bed, he kept going. “Nows, probably not a good time–” 
Jensen looked around your room carefully, he knew the system well and what times were more common than not for nurses to do their daily rounds and check-ins. He knew that by the looks of things you had just showered and were probably settling in for the afternoon. If Jensen was correct in his assumption as he looked back towards where Jake stood at your bedside, he would assume that he couldn't have picked a better time to drop by. 
“Seems like a pretty good time to me man, besides, why don't we let Y/n here make that call.” Jensen replied calmly as he went about finding a place for your flowers to go. Jensen could have played the safe card, he could have chosen to be the bigger person and not mention it, but he didn't really have a hell of alot to lose. After all, he was a dead man walking. What was the harm in stirring the pot a little where he still could. “Honestly, I didn't expect you to be here if I'm being completely honest.” Jensen smirked as he turned back to face Jake. You felt like your heart was about to explode right through your chest as you looked back and forth between the two men who had seemingly gotten into a mines bigger than yours contest on either side of your bedside. “Didn't think you knew your wife was sick–” 
The silence was deafening as Jake thought about all the ways he could kill a man in one single motion. The rage he felt inside his chest was red hot jealousy. Jensen could practically see the steam spewing out of Jake's years. 
“What my wife decides to share with me has nothing to do with you–” Jake growled, you could just see the way he was grinding his teeth. Jake's jawline had never seemed more profound. His knuckles were almost entirely white as he leaned against the railing of your hospital bed. Lowered down for convenience of getting in and out. 
“It does when I’ve been the one listening to how much she wishes you loved her the same way she loves you.” Jensen shrugged. “Come on man, don't play this game, don't pretend that I don't know what been going on–” 
“Enough!” You couldn't have shouted it slider if you tried. “Both of you, my god we’re all supposed to be adults here?” You sighed as you looked at Jake and then over to Jensen. Something was off with him, this wasn't the Jensen you knew. He seemed off, very off. “Can you two just back up, let's start over.” However, it was a plea that fell on deaf ears.
Remember that impending moment of weakness mixed with overall exhaustion Jake mentioned earlier? Yeah– about that. Guess it was coming around the corner sooner rather than later. 
“Nah–” Jake shook his head as he let out a sigh. This was bullshit, you really had him fooled. He really did think that there was a possibility here that maybe, just maybe, the two of you could fix what he had unintentionally broken while focusing on your health. “Nah, I'm not gonna put up with this dickhead.” Jake hissed as unclenched his hands from the railing on your bed. “I'm gonna go get a coffee, try not to catch each other's cancer cells while I'm gone.” 
“Jake, don't leave!” You begged as you sat up a little straighter in your bed. “Please—“ The panic that followed was something otherworldly as you watched Jake round out of the hospital room that had become your home away from home. “Please!” 
Jensen was if anything, enraged. He hadn’t helped the situation but he never would have left your side after making a remark so thickly lacquered with jealousy. He didn't think Jake would react the way he did, so quick to make assumptions. The small gift Jensen still held in his hand was quickly placed on your bedside table. 
“I’ll go talk to him—“ Jensen pressed his lips together as he let his hand fall gently to your shoulder. “My fault, I shouldn't have said what I did, I'm sorry.” Jensen didn't pretend to not see how upset you truly were. He understood what it was like to feel the weight of the world crushing your spirit. “He didn't mean what he said Y/n.” 
“He did–” You sighed as you wiped away your tears. “He asked me when he came to take the kids to his mum's house if I was seeing anyone–” 
Ah, Jensen thought to himself as he stood by your bedside and listened. 
“He wants to get back together, fix what's broken, change.” You sighed as you looked over to the open door that Jake hadn't long before walked out of. “He probably thinks you're more than a friend.” In another life, perhaps Jensen could have been more than just a good friend. In another universe somewhere he hoped that maybe you never had this unforgiving disease. But this wasn't another reality, this was right now. 
“All the more reason to fight for his girl.” Jensen cooed as he leaned in to kiss the top of your now very smooth head. “I'll go talk to your husband.”��
You caught onto the not so subtle subtlety of the way Jensen teased that title. Husband. Jake Seresin was still very much your husband. He was the very definition of a man who was supposed to be at your side through thick and thin. But right now? You were doubting his ability to fully comprehend what was happening to you. Jake’s focus shouldn’t have been on Jensen and who he was to you. But yet you couldn’t not defend him. 
“He’s not a bad guy, he’s really not—“ There was an awkward silence that lingered in the room as Jensen chose to take in what you’d said. “This is all just so much for him to take in.” 
“You don’t need to explain your relationship to me.” Jensen wanted to say that if Jake was such an alright guy, then you wouldn’t have left. He wanted to remind you of all the conversations the two of you had had over the past few months. All the times you’d cried about the man who didn’t value your time, your energy, your love. “But a woman like you should never have to beg a man to stay.” 
“I left him.” You felt the need to remind the man who stood at your bedside with an ora surrounding him you didn’t recognise. “I stopped begging him to love me a long time ago and you know that.” 
Jensen could have thrown the fact you just called out after Jake back in your face, that you’d begged your husband not to leave. But he wasn’t that mean. He was just looking out for you. Someone had to. Someone had to make sure this Jake guy had his priorities in check and that you were at the very top of that list where you belonged. 
“I know—“ Jensen pressed his lips together into a fine line. “But that guy just walked out the second things got a little more complicated, what’s gonna stop him from throwing in the towel if your health declines more than it already has?” Jensen shrugged his shoulders like he wasn’t being nasty. It was his version of tough love. 
“I’m sorry—“ You scoffed as your face contorted into that of a frown mixed with frustration. “Are you, are you testing Jake?” 
“Cancer is one of the world's most leading causes of divorce.” Jensen added like it was a statistic you should have known. He knew you knew it. “I just wanted to see how well he handled a little external pressure.” 
“You’re—“ Before you could finish your sentence, Jensen was smiling down at you from ear to ear. 
“A menace, I know, but I’m a menace that only has your best interest at heart.” Jensen explained as he sat down beside you for only a brief moment. “Your fight isn’t with Jake right now, he shouldn’t be fighting you or anyone else in your life that may come and go.” 
“Jensen—“ You knew Jensen hadn’t been well, but he hadn’t explicitly told you how bad it was. There was something in his eyes though, the way he looked at you like he was looking at you for the last time that had you worried. “What’s going on with you?” 
“I’m just making sure if you’re letting that man back into your life that he’s gonna stick around when things don’t go the way he wants them to.” Jensen smiled softly as he picked up your hand to bring towards his lips. He left a fleeting kiss upon the palm of your hand and let out a sigh he wasn’t aware he was holding in. “I’ll go track down your sook of a husband, make sure he’s aware that you’re hopelessly devoted or whatever you wanna call it.” 
“Please be nice—“ You pleaded gently as Jensen stood from your bedside. “Please.” 
“Anything for you Y/n.” Jensen replied, he knew that this would be the last time he ever saw you apart from in his own version of heaven. “Anything for you.” 
***~***~***~***~***~***~*
Jake Seresin had never been a fan of hospitals. That mentality first started when he broke his leg in kindergarten and needed a full cast, but it grew with him well into adulthood. Jake had never liked hospitals, even when all three of his children were born he still hated them. Not even the love he had for his children could override the hate he felt towards the sterile environment that gave far too many infections to people to be considered ‘normal’ 
“Seresin.” But Jake had never hated hospitals more than he did the second he heard his last name being called from just a short distance down the hall. Called by a man who Jake would happily like to never see again. “The hell is your problem?” Jake caught the sight of the man who’d brought you flowers coming right towards him with a fire burning in his eyes. The man you had kept somewhat a secret from Jake. Much like your diagnosis. 
“My problem is asking me what my problem is.” Jake groaned as he took a sip of his shitty ass hospital coffee. “Don’t you and my wife have things to talk about?” Jake asked as he took a few steps away from where Jensen had stopped in his tracks. “Things I’m not privy to as it seems? Like her health or new love life?” 
“You don’t even know who I am to your wife!” Jensen barked loud enough to have Jake stopping in the middle of the hall. The six foot something aviator turned slowly on his heels to give the almost matching in height bald dude the time of day he seemed to crave. “But I know all about you, because I’ve been there for Y/n while you’ve been busy playing part time parent across the country.” Jensen had nothing to lose, he was just a dying man who had no time left to cherish. 
Jake wasn’t about to stand here and take this. He didn’t need some guy who’d stepped into your life to tell him what to do. You were the mother of Jake’s children, you’d always be that to him regardless if he could fix what he broke. 
“Get out of my face before you need a plastics consult.” Jake growled through gritted teeth all the while Jensen grinned. He was standing his ground as Jake continued on his defensive. “Because so help me god, you may feel like god right now with your self-righteous heart and knight in shining armour attitude, but you sure as hell won’t feel all high and mighty when you meet him.” 
Jensen didn't want to fight with your husband, but he did want to make it known that time was forever fleeting, and if Jake kept going the way he was there would be no time left to fix what he broke. You needed someone to be there for you, Jake had to be that person. 
Because Jensen couldn’t be that guy for you anymore, he had no fight left to give you. He had no fight left in himself. 
“You know I sympathise with you Jake, I do, it must be hard being the guy who broke your own marriage to a woman who loves so fiercely and so much.” Jensen started as he let his elbows rest atop his sweatpants clad knees. “And now having to deal with the fact that said wife is dying must be a lot to work through.” 
Jake remained speechless as his eyes lingered down to the man who was almost out of breath from his walk through the halls. He held his half drunk coffee cup in his hand with enough rage coursing through his veins that Jake was actually surprised he hadn’t crushed the flimsy cardboard vessel. 
“But you know what the worst part of all that is? Is that your priority isn’t your wife, or fixing your marriage—“ Jensen continued on. “No, it’s on the guy who your wife chose to confide in when you were nowhere to be found.” 
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jake replied with a hiss in his tone that mimicked the deadliest of snakes. “I couldn’t give a shit who you are to her or what you want, because she’s my fucking wife—mine!” 
“And yet here you are arguing that point with me in the hall when you could be at her bedside appreciating all the small moments you’ll be lucky to look back on one day.” Jensen grew more heated as Jake took a few strides his way, towering over where Jensen sat. “You threw a fit the second I stepped into that room without using any critical thinking skills you aviators claim to have in the heat of the moment.” 
“She told me she wasn’t seeing anyone! Come to find out that that’s—“ Jake didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence before Jensen intervened that train of thought. 
“She’s not! You’re wife fucking love’s you!! She kept her prognosis from you because she was so scared you didn’t love her back enough to fucking care! And you’re hung up on the idea she’s seeing someone? Me!?” Jensen scoffed as he stood, the few strides he took towards Jake were made with intent behind every single one. Enough to have Jake stumbling back every so slightly. “Here’s a concept for you man.” Jensen pressed his index finger into Jake’s sternum. “Maybe, just maybe, if I was sleeping with your wife, she’d remember her worth.” 
“You really don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jake sighed, there was no way he was entertaining this delusion any more than he already had. “I think you should leave.” The idea of you being with another man sent Jake into a blind rage of jealousy that saw no reason. But at the end of the day, he was the one who walked out on you. He’d strayed too far from your hospital room and couldn’t see your bed socks anymore. 
Fuck….
“Maybe, maybe I should—“ Jensen agreed. “And hell I don’t even know you at all, but from what I’ve managed to piece together? it’s that you're a crap husband who doesn’t have the emotional capacity to handle the fact his wife could lose this battle.” Jensen retaliated with a stone cold expression. “But something I do know is that no amount of prayer or candles or begging will reverse time, so put your ego side and focus on the fact your wife needs you now more than ever before and if you leave her side the way you did today ever again, trust me when I say you’ll regret it every day of your life.” 
“Y/n isn’t dying—“ Much like Jensen was taking his fear of the unknown out on Jake, Jake was just about ready to let loose on the guy who was picking apart his very character. Sure, Jake recognised he wasn’t the best husband, but he also knew you weren’t dying. Not right now, not while he wasn’t by your side. 
“I wasn’t either, but as it turns out we all have an expiry date.” Jensen replied. The atmosphere and energy surrounding the two men who were going head to head suddenly shifted. “Some sooner than others, but we all have one, and when yours is up yours is up and there ain't nothing you can do you extend it.” 
“You’re—“ Jake couldn’t bring himself to say it. 
“A walking corpse.” Jensen finished the sentence he knew Jake was trying to speak into existence. Although he didn’t care to beat around the bush. “So trust me when I tell you that wishful thinking does shit when your body decides it’s had enough.” 
“Does Y/n know?” Jake's first worry was how this news, how this detrimental turn of events, would affect you. His heart forgot how to beat inside his chest when he watched Jensen shake his head in response. 
“She needs to focus on her own journey, and before I go I need to make sure she has a support system because for a while there I was all she seemed to have.” Jensen explained. There it was, the truth of the matter. 
Jake saw it clear as day, the care, the worry, the intention to make sure you had someone there for you because Jensen wasn’t going to be there anymore. You may not have slept with the guy standing before Jake but if Jake knew anything, it was the look of a man who was unequivocally in love with you. He saw his own reflection of Jensen's eyes. 
“Go back, apologies, and you fix your marriage man because that woman? That electrifying woman who sees the good in everything doesn’t deserve to go through this alone—and you turning your back on her the second someone made things a little difficult for you isn’t a good representation of the husband she deserves.” 
“You love her, don’t you?” Jake asked as he took a second to truly take in Jensens whole argument. The world seemed to go on around them, with doctors and nurses carrying out their daily duties and rounds. Family members walking to and from rooms visiting loved ones. But for Jake and Jensen? The world stopped when it came to you. “You’re in love with my wife, say it.” Jake couldn’t hide the pain in his voice. “Tell me you love her, then this all makes sense.” 
“Maybe—“ Jensen tried to play his love for you down into something that was just a social construct. “Maybe I love her, but I don’t get a chance to explore that, you do though.” Jensen was truly trying to hide the pain in his eyes, but Jake could see it all too easily. Jensen knew that. “So if not for yourself, for her, pull your head out of your ass man—“
“I never stopped loving her though.” Jake sighed out in frustration as he sat down on one of the plastic hospital chairs that lined the hallway. Jensen followed soon after, both men decided that the heat of the argument was settling into something more valuable. “I just—I lost sight of what I had.” 
“That’s just not a good enough excuse.” Jensen replied as he let his head fall back against the wall. “Listen, I don’t plan on coming back after I leave today.” 
Jake didn’t respond, he simply waited for Jensen to explain. But the explanation never came and Jake never pressed. If anything he was kind of relieved in a selfish way. 
“If you truly want to fix what’s broken, if you really want to fight for her and be by her side when she needs you the most, you’ll get up and you’ll go back in there and you’ll be the guy who gets to hold her like no one else does.” Jensen pauses momentarily before he continued on. “Because there’s better guys out there Jake, and she shouldn’t have to settle for one who doesn’t appreciate what’s right under his damn nose.” 
“Is this your way of telling me you’re a better man than me?” Jake asked cautiously, a part of him didn’t want the answer to be yes. But Jake needed to know what the man sitting beside him truly thought. You saw something good inside him, inside both of them.
“I’m not a better man than you Jake—“ Jensen sighed as he stood from his chair. It was getting late, he had said his peace, he had put the fear for a dying man inside Jake Seresin. There wasn’t much more Jensen could contribute to your life besides what he had already given. 
The body tends to adapt quickly to new circumstances and pressures it’s put under. It knows how to protect itself. But it can’t close off completely, or well—we’re not really living are we? Biology tends to override our fears, so we leave the door open, just a little…hoping like hell that it's worth the risk. But for Jensen….He was ready to close the door and lock it shut. 
“I’m just a man who’s run out of time and has nothing left to lose.”
***~***~***~***~***~***~
Tags: @blindedbythelightt @starset21 @tayl0rhuynh @mamachasesmayhem @marvelogic @itsmytimetoodream @maverick-wingman @kodzukenmaaa @eternalsams @seitmai @nota-professional @jessicab1991 @hardballoonlove @senawashere @fanficfandomlove @withahappyrefrain @dizzybee03 @maisie-rebloging-blog
@goldenseresinretriever @a-reader-and-a-writer @sunlightmurdock @shelbycillian @memoriesat30 @accioprocrastination @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @athenabarnes @eternallyvenus @emma8895eb @kmc1989
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ftmwifey · 20 days
Note
All I’m saying is that if you found yourself suddenly gaining weight, I think it would take you a long time to realize that while you were sleeping I fucked you full of cum.
Maybe your boobs growing bigger and bigger as the months went by would tip you off, or maybe it would be the way your hips expand, your bone structure changing to give you a defined pear shape, your growing appetite and weight gain might do it, as you find yourself craving more and more, face softening, curves growing, every part of you getting softer and softer until no matter what you do some part of you is always jiggling.
Of course, your pregnant belly would be the main show, getting heavier and heavier until you become out of breath even trying to stand up. Your stomach becomes a constant reminder of your womb, slowly but surely forcing you into an undignified waddle as the months pass by. It becomes the first thing people look at when they see you, showing off just how thoroughly you got fucked.
You would have to buy new clothes, your men’s shirts now stretch around your tits and show off your bulging stomach, while the jeans you can still squeeze yourself into suction themselves to your ass and thighs, all while jamming their seams into your pussy. None of the men’s clothes fit the way you want, and eventually none of them fit at all, finally forcing you to accept the truth and buy maternity wear. Thin, flowy, low cut necklines that show off your swollen tits and womb, with stretchy pants that highlight all of your most feminine features. 
When you finally do give birth you’ll be a curvy milf. With tits the size of your head and hips larger than your shoulders. In the delivery room the doctors and nurses will call you she without a second though, the idea that you could be anything other than a woman would be laughable. After a long and humiliating birth you’ll be marked as the mother on the birth certificate, father unknown.
And after the babies have been delivered your body has already been transformed to make way for your new life as a mother. Saggy belly, leaky tits, and thighs that rub together when you walk are only the tip of the iceberg. Your face has a soft femininity to it, with full cheeks and a developing double chin, your arms are weak, and strain the sleeves of any shirts you wear, your ass hangs behind you and when you sit down you can feel your thighs spread against the chair. 
No one will be able to confuse you for a man ever again, no matter what you try to do. 
Oh well, guess I’ll just have to wait and see.
holy shit reading this makes me so ready to be bred! i tots want a huge jiggling milf body and take care of a ton of babies! id be the sluttiest mom in the grocery store, no one would ever believe i wanted to be a guy or even looked like one! id love my massive jugs that every man that ever talks to me would try and “accidentally” touch them. while i’m trying to talk to them they’d be staring at my tits the whole time, as a girl i don’t have any opinions anyways 🥰
please send more of these anons! i love reading them~ 💕
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steddieas-shegoes · 1 year
Note
For the requests: heard of hearing and/or partially blind Steve + his parents realizing. Maybe they come home & see how their house has changed to be more accessible for Steve? Or something like that.
HONESTLY THIS ONE HURTED. But as usual, you provide the quality shit!!!! Poor Steve, but also if it ain't hurt/comfort, then did I even write it? Everyone loves Steve. Except his parents. His parents suck. But everyone else? Angels. Hope you love it darling!!! - Mickala ❤️
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Concussions were a bitch.
Multiple concussions in a three year period were a bitch.
But the worst part was when he noticed he couldn’t hear out of his left ear. Robin had been talking to him at work on his left side, whispering about some customer that was walking down every single aisle as if they didn’t know what movies were out, and he didn’t even notice until she switched sides halfway through a sentence.
He pretended it was fine, that he’d heard her the whole time, but then she asked him a question he couldn’t answer. She walked to his left side and said something, and when he shook his head, she bit her lip, fighting back tears.
“It’s okay, Robs. I can still hear out of the other one,” Steve said to comfort her, but also to comfort himself.
If he lost it in one ear, he could lose it in the other, and then what?
She tried to convince him to get a hearing aid, but he didn’t think he needed one.
“Your parents sent you money for medical expenses, use it for this!”
But he couldn’t.
And then he started getting blurry vision in both eyes. The left was rapidly growing worse, and Dustin noticed.
“Dude, you’re squinting. Do you have a migraine? You could’ve had Eddie drive me.”
“Nah, just tired. Trying to focus.”
Part of that was true. The squinting helped him focus a little, but he knew he had to do something about it.
So he sat down with Robin and came up with a plan.
He hated every fucking second of it.
“You get a scan first, we need to know if this is gonna keep getting worse or what permanent damage is there. You get glasses-“
“I might not need-“
“You get glasses. Then you get fitted for a hearing aid.”
“Yes ma’am,” Steve rolled his eyes.
But looking back, he was grateful Robin made him do it.
The doctors had been amazed he was able to talk with the damage done.
“Will I lose my ability to talk?” He asked, realizing that not being able to hear, see, and talk was too much for him to deal with.
“I think we can work through some physical therapy type exercises to make sure that doesn’t happen. I’m glad you came in now and not a few years from now.”
Robin never said ‘I told you so,’ probably sensing that Steve wasn’t coping well with the news.
They told him he would most likely lose all hearing over the years, and his vision would progressively get worse, though it would most likely plateau and he wouldn’t lose it completely.
They said he needed to do vocal exercises every day, brain exercises as often as possible, and to come back the moment he recognized any change in his speech.
So he lived with the anxiety of not being able to communicate with anyone he loved every second of every day.
Dustin, Will, Mike, and Max had done research for weeks, finding things they could do to help him live in his house alone. Sure, they were there often, almost enough to be considered roommates, but that wouldn’t always be the case.
They would all grow up and leave.
Max had lost her own vision after Vecna, only able to see light and sometimes movement, but never any detail.
The day he got his glasses, she threatened him with murder if he didn’t wear them.
“The more you strain your eyes, the worse they’ll get. Wear the glasses. I’m sure you look just as cute as always.”
He didn’t have anything to say to that, but he didn’t want to piss Max off, so he wore them all day every day.
Dustin had found a way to wire the doorbell to the lights in the whole house, so if it rang, and somehow Steve couldn’t hear, he’d see the lights flash three times from any room he was in.
He’d done something similar with the walkie, so Steve would know if someone was trying to communicate with him.
Will figured out a light system for the phone, where it flashed with green while it rang and red if he missed a call that went to their voicemail.
It only worked if he was in the kitchen, living room, or his bedroom and paying attention, but the thought behind it made him want to cry.
He got debilitating migraines frequently, which left him bedbound, unable to even get up to use the bathroom on his own sometimes.
They figured out a signal for his walkie that he could push the button in a sort of Morse code to make sure someone knew he needed help.
If he couldn’t get to his walkie for some reason, Dustin programmed buttons on all the phones: *1 called Robin, *2 called Eddie, and *3 called Dustin.
All of his meds were moved to the drawer by his bed, with a reminder note in every room of his house, just in case he forgot.
Which was apparently another thing he had to worry about: his memory.
The doctors seemed to think he would be okay if he stayed active and healthy otherwise, and definitely needed to avoid another concussion, but they did say he could notice some issues as he got older.
Mike looked up what vitamins he needed to help boost his memory and vision, and increased his iron intake to hopefully stave off some of the migraines before they even started. He put the instructions with his medication reminders all over the house.
But what surprised him most was what happened when his parents came home early on a random Thursday morning.
He was dealing with a bit of a migraine hangover, the day before being a blur of calling for help, reaching for his meds, and Eddie arriving to make sure he stayed hydrated and made it to the bathroom as needed.
Eddie was still here, in fact.
So when he heard them banging around downstairs, his eyes flew open and he looked at a still sleeping, very shirtless Eddie next to him in his bed.
Nothing happened obviously. Eddie just ran hot.
But his parents had already been questioning him a lot about not having a girlfriend in a while and hanging out with “queers” like those two things alone could make him gay.
And if they saw Eddie like this, they would make assumptions.
Assumptions that would get him kicked out of the house that everyone just worked so hard to make accessible for him.
So he got up as quickly, but quietly as he could, ignoring the buzz in his ear where his hearing aid was loose from sleeping in it. He wasn’t technically supposed to, but he didn’t like anyone touching his head on migraine days so it stayed in.
Eddie didn’t budge, and he hoped he stayed that way while he tried to keep his parents busy.
Then the lights flashed and he heard the distant high pitched ring of the doorbell.
“What the hell?” His father asked as Steve ran down the stairs.
“Steven?” His mother asked as he flew past them and made it to the front door.
“Steve!” Dustin yelled excitedly as Steve glared at him.
“Dustin, not now.”
“Why? I saw Eddie’s van, so I figured-“
“Who is at the door, Steven?”
Steve closed his eyes and heard Dustin mumble ‘shit’, before he turned around to face his parents.
His glasses were dirty, but he could see that the looks on their faces were not impressed.
“Since when do you wear glasses?” His mom asked.
“Is that a hearing aid?” His dad added.
“Dustin, I’ll call you later.”
“Answer the questions.”
“I started wearing glasses and the hearing aid after a few concussions that caused a lot of damage.”
“What’s going on with the lights? Do they always flicker like that?”
Steve hadn’t really expected them to care much about him, but it still hurt a little how quickly they became concerned about the house instead of him.
“They’re a visual aid so if I’m not wearing my hearing aid or my hearing gets worse, I’ll know when the doorbell rings.”
“Is that really necessary?”
“Yeah, it is,” Eddie said from the stairs, luckily not shirtless.
“Who the hell are you?” Steve’s dad didn’t waste time with pleasantries, he never did unless someone had something to offer him.
“I’m Eddie. Steve’s friend.”
“His friend?” Steve’s mom was hesitant to be obvious about what she meant, but everyone could understand where she was going with the questioning.
“Yeah, or would you prefer if we were boyfriends?”
Steve couldn’t help the snort he let out.
Eddie wasn’t the type to hide himself away, but he wouldn’t purposely make Steve’s life harder.
“Is there a reason you’re here?”
“I was taking care of him yesterday. It got late so I stayed.”
“Take care of him?” His mother turned back towards him. “Are you sick?”
“I get migraines.”
“We all get migraines, Steven,” his father said as he crossed his arms.
“But we all don’t get the kind that leave us crying and throwing up for hours on end because we can’t even see straight, do we, Richard?” Eddie asked as he walked closer to them.
“I don’t know who you think you are-“
“I told you, I’m Eddie. And as far as I’m concerned, I, and quite a few other people in town, are quite good at taking care of Steve. Unlike his parents.”
“Steve’s a grown man-“
“Yeah, now. But where were you when he wasn’t and got the concussions that caused this?”
Steve could feel his head pulsing, and he knew his migraine would be back at full force if he didn’t rest.
He took his hearing aid out for a bit of relief, the volume of his father and Eddie arguing going down considerably.
He massaged his neck the best he could, knowing that the release of some tension would at least keep the pain at bay until this could be over.
Then, he saw the phone start flashing green.
“What is going on with the phone?”
His mother directed the question at him, but Eddie stopped berating his father long enough to answer her.
“It’s so Steve knows it’s ringing if he happens to have his hearing aid out like he does now. In case no one is here with him and someone needs to reach him.”
“That explains not answering our calls.”
“I think that could just be that you don’t call at all.”
Eddie moved closer to Steve.
“Go upstairs, Stevie,” he said quietly into his right ear. “I can handle them.”
Steve was too tired, too frustrated, too borderline on a migraine to fight.
He walked upstairs, ignoring his father’s protests, his mother’s pleas, and Eddie standing in front of them both raising his voice to be heard.
Everything felt blurry as he removed his glasses and rubbed at his eyes when he made it up the stairs.
His room was dark still, the blackout curtains still drawn closed, lights off, like Eddie had suspected it might be a bad day again.
His pills were on the table, a cup of water next to them. He set his glasses down and took them, trusting that Eddie followed the instructions perfectly.
He always did.
He always took such good care of him.
He came at the drop of a hat, even if Robin was already here. He brought Steve’s favorite soda, insisted it helped with migraines even though it probably didn’t. He massaged the spot on Steve’s neck that always held the most tension, pulled him close until he fell asleep on the couch or in the bed, always on his chest.
He’d been learning and teaching everyone sign language too.
Steve had started learning immediately, and so did Robin, but Eddie had insisted on it too, and started teaching the kids. He’d been showing Max one sign at a time, putting her fingers and hands into the movement so she knew how to do it.
And Steve didn’t think he could love Eddie more.
But he figured if Eddie was interested in him, he would have made a move already.
He could very distantly hear Eddie’s voice saying something, but he wasn’t sure what. With his hearing aid out, he usually couldn’t hear anything downstairs from his room.
He closed his eyes, settling under the blankets so he could try to do what Eddie wanted him to.
He drifted in and out, tired, but not quite enough to fall asleep all the way.
At some point, Eddie had made it back to the room and got in bed, his hand running through Steve’s hair gently.
“Eds?”
“It’s alright, Stevie. Your parents are gone. They won’t be back again for a while.”
“Mkay.”
He let himself drift again, safe with Eddie there.
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pathetichimbos · 11 months
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Ok actually I've been in love with your toughts about Thomas, YOU'RE AN AMAZING WRITER!!!
Btw, I can't stop thinking about how this man deserved a childhood friend that would eventually become his lover, someone that decided to treat him like an human being once and discovered he's just really sweet boy and not a monster.
Do you think that would change anything about how Thomas behaves in the future?
Oh, this is something I have thought about, I could write a whole fic on the AU, but let's not bite off more than we can chew and put that idea to the side for a future project. Please bear in mind that this post may seem lesser than my others and more rushed, that was quite literally because I had to continuously stop myself from writing endless drabbles on this idea.
But, I digress. Let's dive into the factual and realistic results of giving Thomas a childhood friend.
So, as we know, Thomas has had a lot of health issues from birth, and the Hewitt family did their best to get him the medical help he needed, taking him to doctors up until he was about thirteen or fourteen.
We also know that Thomas has been bullied for most of his life, and was isolated from his peers and community at a young age.
And we know that Thomas is some flavor of neuordivergent, so if we add all of these things together, we get a school record full of absences, low grades, and detentions from fights he didn't start, because we all know that in small southern towns, teachers really don't give a shit who starts the fight, they care about who's family has the better reputation.
So, he's in an out of school from the get go, has a bad reputation with all his teachers (and going into every new grade because teachers talk), and struggles with learning in the traditional way.
This starts tons of rumors about him.
They float all around the school, everyone knows who Thomas is, and no one in particular likes him.
But! Let's back up here, and take it back to, oh, I don't know, first, second grade? Around that time frame.
Thomas is still a little dude, being harassed and bullied by his peers and generally not having a fun time.
But, this time around, we'll drop another little dude in there. (that's you!)
And this little dude (non-gender term) doesn't particularly care about Thomas' deformities and disabilities. Who would?
So, you start hanging out with him. And Thomas, (who we all know thrives on positive attention), is confused, but not unwelcoming.
I don't think he'd be really clingy right of the bat, but give it a school year (maybe two if he's out of school a lot that particular year), and he's going to be a lot more comfortable with you, and that's what's going to lead to that clinginess.
Especially if you're nonchalant about grabbing his hand or touching him in general, because, remember, most people are afraid to even come near him, so the fact that you don't care and are willing to just casually touch him, is a huge thing in his eyes, and as he gets older, he's going to want more.
So, we'll skip ahead a bit until y'all are 10-12ish, and at this point, you're Thomas' best friend. Everyone knows you two hang out, the Hewitts love you, and it leads to a bit more isolation on your end, because no one wants to be friends with the freak, let alone the freaks weird best friend. (and yes, you're weird, I know you are because you're listening to me rant about leatherface /affectionate <3)
But, this also opens Thomas up to people a bit more, as the few people that do talk to you, eventually talk to him, maybe not go as far as to be his friends, but enough to be friendly.
Of course, some people are fake, and they'll ditch the both of you the moment the 'popular' kids find out they talk to you.
And other people don't, it's middle school, life in general sucks. Y'all are just trying to survive your way to highschool.
Now, if we assume you help tutor Thomas and you help keep him out of trouble (i.e. a large tree limb tends to deter bullies), we can assume his grades will go up, which will probably get his teachers off his back. All of these things are good. Thomas has a real friend, and not everyone treats him like a monster. His grades are better. His family is proud of him.
But Thomas still has mental health issues. And just like he hid them from his family, he hides them from you as well. His peers and community may have shunned and isolated him, but he also shuns and isolates himself from his family and friends, so I believe that despite being clingy and wanting to be around you a lot, if he hits a depressive episode, he's going to isolate from everyone.
That's what leads to his self mutlilation.
He slices the skin off his cheeks in an attempt to "fix" his deformities, believing that if he just gets rid of them, his disease will go away.
...But it doesn't. And he doesn't get to see you for a long time, a worried and frightened Luda Mae keeping her baby locked away and protected from the world while he heals.
That's when Thomas stops speaking. The healing wounds and eventual scars make it harder for him to speak, making anything more than a mutter or whisper painful for him.
This is when he finally drops out of school. It's a small southern town in the early 1950s, so there's no fight to stop him, after all, he's expected to help his family run the farm.
When he finally sees you again, he's worried you'll have changed your mind about him, and even though you haven't done anything wrong, it takes time for him to trust you again, his own self doubt ruining his confidence in your friendship.
But, after that, you're pretty much inseparable again. Everyone in town knows that if they see one of you, the other isn't far behind. Thomas still struggles a lot on his own during this time, and I don't believe he'd be capable of loving himself enough at this point to love you, or at least, I don't think he'd believe you actually like him, and for the sake of this post, we'll keep it that way.
Thomas spends a lot of time at his house at this point, so you spend a lot of time after school there with him. His house is practically your house. Luda Mae, Charlie, and Monty all know that once school lets out you're headed over, and they set an extra plate at dinner for you. (They don't know how Thomas could be so possibly blind to your affection towards him, but other than Charlie's stray comments encouraging Thomas to 'give it a shot', they mind their business)
Once Thomas gets a job at the slaughterhouse, and you get your own job in town, you'll often walk to the slaughterhouse after work to meet Thomas just finishing his shift, and the two of you will walk together until you have to separate to go to your own house.
It breaks people's minds seeing how soft Thomas is with you, their own preconceived ideas about the man leaving them baffled when he's gentle and caring to his friend.
It's about his early to mid twenties, when people start looking at you as more than just his friend, and as someone to actually chase and date, that Thomas finally snaps.
You don't know what comes over your best friend, but he becomes extremely affection and protective of you, no one can approach you in a flirtatious way without Thomas following close behind, simply standing behind you as a warning for them to move on.
But he doesn't actually try to date you. He's still torn by his own poor self esteem. It drives you insane.
You'll have to confront him, and give him an ultimatum. You can't keep playing this game, where he refuses to let you out of his sight but runs away every time you try to make a move.
He caves, obviously, not willing to lose you in any capacity, but your relationship is slow and careful, working at his pace as he learns to accept himself and your love for him, which takes a very long time.
He's not comfortable with any PDA, just barely letting you hold his hand when you meet him after work.
"But we've always held hands." You point out, and he looks away with a shrug.
It's different now.
But, let's step away from the drabble territory. I've already had to rewrite this post like five times now.
Over the years, Thomas becomes more and more comfortable with your relationship, and you have to teach him practically everything. He genuinely doesn't know anything going into this. And I mean anything.
As the town starts to die, and your family decides to leave, the Hewitts welcome you with open arms, but Luda Mae moves you into the guest room. After all, you're not married.
That doesn't stop you from sneaking into his room at night though.
But, despite the implication I just made, I don't think Thomas would be ready for actual sex until marriage. He's still a traditional man, just the way his mother raised him.
But, again, not my main point. Stick with me, I'm wrapping it up now.
All in all, I don't think Thomas would be that much different. A little more self confidence and self esteem, sure, but he'll still be Thomas. When the factory shuts down, he'll still snap, and he'll still kill the supervisor. He'll still start preparing human meat like he's asked. But other than feeling a bit more comfortable in his own skin and mind, he wouldn't be much different. He's still our same old Tommy.
Ok, that's all for now. Thanks for sending in the ask love <3
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kitthepurplepotato · 10 months
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Chapter 13 - You are my Number One.
Summary: Katsuki is more freaked out about Y/N’s appointment than Y/N herself.
Warning: Swear words, nothing too cheeky this time!
First Chapter Master List
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It’s 5AM in the fucking morning but Katsuki is already freaking out.
He’s not worried. He has no reason to be; he’s not a fucking doctor but he knows there is no way Y/N’s appointment will bear anything but good news; she’s healthy and full of energy, her movements are back to normal even without the meds, so really, there is no reason for him to be a big ball of anxiety right now.
No reason.
But… he still can’t stop spiraling about the ‘what if’s.
What if she only looks fine and after a few tests the doctor decides to put her back on the meds? His woman is strong, the strongest person in the world but she would break down to hear that after all the work she’s done to get better.
What if the doctor tells him to wait another year before she goes back to actual hero work? Again, she would loose her shit. She would probably burn the whole hospital down out of frustration. Katsuki is not a big fan of rescue missions and it’s also way too fucking early for that shit. He does miss the adrenaline of being on the field but he definitely does not miss the smell of burnt flesh and he might be the number two hero, but he definitely can’t save more than 3000 people in one go, especially as at least half of them are disabled and incapable of running.
“Woman.” Katsuki shakes his still sleeping girlfriend with a manic face. “Whatever happens today you can NOT burn the hospital down.” He yells with a serious face but his woman only snorts at him.
“The fuck, Katsuki?” She laughs and oh god, he absolutely fucking loves her sleepy little laugh. “Why are you the one freaking out? You look I just went into labor.” Honestly, Katsuki wishes that was the case. Even though, now that he said that, Y/N would probably burn the hospital down due to her frustration from being in so much pain for so long. Okay, no kids for Katsuki then. It’s a small sacrifice for the greater good. “What the fuck are you muttering about?” She giggles at him so Katsuki decides to change the topic by pushing a big cup of coffee into his girlfriend’s hands. It works every time. Nothing is more important than a morning coffee. Not even mass murder. Good.
Katsuki feels like he’s about to throw up. His face must be really pale as the Menace looks at him with worry etched into her features.
“We need to leave in twenty minutes, hurry up.” Katsuki makes a hard turn and stomps towards his dresser to find something normal. What do people wear to hospitals at all? His usual attire in a hospital usually consist of a hero suit soaked through with his own blood. Or ridiculously oversized trousers and a hoodie three times the size of him topped up with a cap and a face mask or at least that’s what he used to wear when he was forced to go to therapy.
This time, Katsuki wants to look… well… proper. He’s not going there alone, he’s going with his partner, his future wife (probably?!), the woman he’s so fucking proud of; he wants her to be proud of him too. It’s stupid, he knows, but somehow, it feels like this is important; this is the first time they attend an important appointment together. This is the first time he’s going to be seen as Y/N’s boyfriend. Katsuki feels like he’s about meet her parents or some shit.
“You don’t need to come with me, I’ll be fine alone.” She mutters, but that’s the last thing Katsuki wants to do.
“Do I fucking look like I’m capable of sitting on my ass right now, you idiot?” Katsuki lashes out. “I want to be there, I want to hold your hand and shit. I want to… fuck, I want to be there with you. I want to share the burden. You see, I’m already freaking out so you don’t have to. You can just giggle and be fucking adorable while I shit my pants. I’m perfectly fine with that.”
“Katsuki, you don’t make any sense but… thank you?” She giggles again and Katsuki swears he would be able to survive without water and food and get his nutrients from Y/N’s laughter instead. He’s so fucking fucked, isn’t he?
“Put some clothes on and let’s go.” Katsuki takes a plain black T-shirt and some tight jeans out of his dresser and makes a beeline to the bathroom. “If you don’t have proper clothing on by the time I come back you are going to the hospital in your pajamas.” Katsuki threatens but it doesn’t have an edge.
“Roger that, boss!” Y/N salutes before Katsuki slams the bedroom door aggressively.
~•💥•~
“Keep your eyes on the road, Kats, I won’t disappear.” You smile at your boyfriend who’s absolutely freaking the shit out right now, for no reason at all. It’s a little bit endearing.
You always knew he cares so much more than he’s willing to admit; he’s secretly a big softie for all his friends, even though he does nothing but yell at them all the time, but this is the first time Katsuki feels safe enough to actually show his affectionate side to anyone else and it makes you so fucking proud to be on the receptive side of it even if it’s a tiny bit annoying.
You don’t want to know how has Katsuki felt when you were gone for a day of this is how he reacts to a doctor’s appointment. Maybe you should thank Todoroki and Midoriya for keeping him alive while you were away back then.
“Technically…” Katsuki is about to give you shit and go all nerd on you, but you don’t let him finish.
“Technically, I can disappear, yes, but it doesn’t matter if you stare at me or not, I can literally do that anyway.” You retort scoldingly.
“Sorry, I’m just really fucking worried.” Katsuki sighs, his eyes finally back on the road. You sigh and move your your hand to caress the blond’s thigh, drawing soothing circles on his jeans to calm him down.
“You have no reason to be. It’s over, Katsuki. I’m over it and I know I won this fight, I just need a stupid paper from the doctor that makes it official. I trust my gut and my gut tells me I’m good. Don’t you trust me, KitKat?”
Katsuki visibly shakes at the new nickname you just gave him; thank god you two were waiting for the light to turn green, otherwise he would’ve caused an accident by stepping on the brake so suddenly.
“What’s with you and your stupid nicknames?” Katsuki mutters with the most adorable pout on his flushed little face.
“I can’t help it, you are so fucking cute.” You giggle and Katsuki is about to explode out of embarrassment when a loud honk coming from behind startles you both; the light turned green and you didn’t realize. Oh fuck.
“You are insufferable.” Katsuki mutters in front of himself and the rest of the ride is silent. You know your boyfriend well enough to know that nothing will calm him down right now anyway, so you just let him mutter to himself for the rest of the journey.
For your surprise, Katsuki intertwines his fingers with yours right when you stand by his side after the ride. His hold is downright painful, but you decide to not speak up about it; Katsuki clearly needs this right now and seeing him so stressed about something that doesn’t even affect him in any way makes you realize how important you are for him. Bakugou Katsuki can’t seem to stop surprising you these days, in a good way.
“Hello.” Katsuki mutters at the entrance; it looks like it literally pains him to be nice to someone else for once, but he does it anyway. Why? You have no fucking idea. Katsuki looks at the amused lady at the front desk with a constipated face. “Appointment. For Y/N.” Katsuki mutters again, his face red as a tomato. You don’t have the heart to tell him that he doesn’t need to do this at all as everyone knows your face by now.
“End of the hallway, right side, 235. Good luck!” The lady gives you a thumbs up and you can barely smile back as Katsuki is already pulling you towards the fore-mentioned door. He knock three times aggressively and the door opens; the nurse’s face pales at the sight of the number two hero towering against her at 6AM in the fucking morning.
“Ahh, Y/N! Come on in, your guest can wait in the waiting room until we finish!” The nurse gives Katsuki a forced smile, already knowing there’s gonna be drama.
“I’m not a fucking guest, I’m her boyfriend! I took care of her fucking ass this whole week! I should be allowed to come in!” Katsuki almost yells at the poor nurse, but his voice gets quieter as he finishes his sentence. Fuck, he’s trying so hard.
“Sir, I understand but we need your girlfriend’s full attention. We need to do some tests as well today. Please, take a seat outside.” She points at the bench on the hallway. “Would you like some tea, or some coffee? We have some pastries as well if you are hungry!”
Wow, you do get a different treatment when you are the number two hero in the country.
“Do I look like I need caffeine, woman?” Katsuki mutters under his nose, his hands still in yours. “Just fucking… go…” the blond mutters, slowly letting you free from his grasp.
“I’ll be fine. I love you.” You hug your boyfriend tightly, hoping he can feel how grateful you are for everything. The nurse steps back into the office and leaves the door open for you to come in when you are ready. You didn’t miss the tiny fond smile on her face as she left.
“You are invincible. Whatever fucking happens today… you are… you are my number one.” Katsuki’s head is about to explode. Your heart skips a beat.
“I’m the luckiest fucking bitch to walk this Earth. Fuck, Katsuki.” You can’t stop yourself from jumping on him and kissing him fiercely in the middle of the thankfully empty hallway like your life depends on it. It takes him a few seconds to reciprocate but when he does it gets even harder to let him go; he kisses you with the same fervor, his touches hot and full of desire. He pulls away rather abruptly, takes a few deep breaths then he finally speaks up:
“Go before I devour you in the middle of this stupid hallway that smells like cheap bleach.”
“I’ll be out before you know it.” You smile and leave a last, lingering kiss on the blond’s lips before you close the door on his cute, anxious face. You’ve never been into the whole marriage thing but you kinda want to elope with him right here, right now.
“Let’s get this over with.” You sigh as you sit down in front of your doctor, who can’t hide his amused face as he takes in your red lips and disheveled hair.
“I really want to tell you off for coming to my office looking like that but I’m actually quite impressed. So who’s the lucky guy?” The doctor smirks at you; your cheeks flush, making you look like a ripe tomato but he only laughs at that.
“See it for yourself after we are done here, sir.”
This is it. This is fucking it.
Oh shit, you haven’t been anxious at all before but now it kicks you in the face as you take in your doctors office, the white walls and all the equipment he’s about to use on you.
“Whatever happens, you are my number one.” Katsuki’s words play in your head like a mantra as your body slowly lets go of all the tension that suddenly appeared out of nowhere.
It doesn’t matter what the doctor says; it might sound super cheesy but even if you can never be a hero again, having Katsuki by your side, saving people for the both of you is more than enough for you.
So this is what people call “love”. It’s so powerful it changes even the strongest, most determined people.
You can’t help but giggle to yourself from your own silly thoughts.
You really are the luckiest person in the world, aren’t you?
… Next chapter!
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
Potato ramble:
- This story is about end in a few chapters. I gave this a lot of thought and I realized I don’t need to write down every single idea I had for this one otherwise this story will never end and I have so many other stories in my head I want to share with you all, so I made the executive decision to try to finish this in 5 chapters (you guys know me though, that will be 10 lol).
- My plan is to finish this one, take a bit of a break and continue posting only the Deku one for a few weeks then come back with the Kirishima spin-off and then later with a new Katsuki x Reader series. I already have a few chapters ready for both but I’m trying to aim for having almost the whole thing written out before I start posting to not overwhelm myself but I might change my mind about that as I really enjoy to hear your thoughts and add some things you want to see and I absolutely love to listen to your feedback and make the next chapters more enjoyable. It’s hard to be an adult, I just wanna write and read your comments 24/7 😂
- Ah, also! I got over excited and I already have edited the header for the Kirishima spin-off! I hope you like it!
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Yes, there is a typo in it, I’ll sort that out later shut up 😂
- I hope you guys had a lovely week and sorry for being so late; I got some bad news from the doctors and it messed up my head a little bit, I also did several extremely early shifts in a row and was dead tired in the afternoon so I had a hard time writing this week. Next week will be even worse so yeah… sorry in advance 😂
TL: @sixxze @iwannahaveaprettyaesthetic @hanatsuki-hime @cloroxisadelectabletreat @cheesenmax @coffeent @smolsleepybat @therealpotatobish @qardasngan @canarystwin @unofficialmuilover @nanamomo1 @mikestuffffs @p4ndawrites @yao-ai
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I'm not gonna find this tweet because quite frankly I don't feel like going on Twitter
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Aside from the fact that this tweet is classist, not everyone can afford lasik, and lasik has been known to cause issues with your eyes, and it's a temporary solution (your eyes will worsen as you get older anyways).
This tweet really ignores how much the optometrist industry is just in general a really shitty and gaslighting industry for people that have issues beyond just astigmatism and vision issues.
And you're probably thinking "Like that's only a small fraction of people. What about everyone else?" That's kind of the fucking issue. I've had shit vision my ENTIRE life. Literally. Was so fucking blind when I was born that it caused long lasting damage in the nerves in my eyes.
Which means I've been to a lot of optometrists, and if you have any vision problems beyond what's seen as "common" (near sighted or near sighted with an astigmatism) they don't know shit.
And I could go into shit like how none of the optometrists thought to point out that I probably don't have depth perception until I was 23. But that's a niche issue regarding a disability I have due to my vision being so shit when I was so young.
Let's go into an issue that's less common. My prescription was +5.00 or worse my entire life. Plus I have an astigmatism. And a lot of contact companies don't make prescriptions for such severe farsightedness with an astigmatism. (They make prescriptions for -5.00, but not +5.00)
Every time I go to the doctor they're like OH MY GAWDS YOUR CONTACT BRAND IS SO BAD ITS LIKE YOUR EYES ARE SUFFOCATONG I MUST GET YOU A NEW ONE. And every single year I'm like "Trust me. You don't have any options in my prescription." And every time they're like OAH MAH GODS THEY MAKE ME EVERY YEAR LET MEH CHECK.
I'm like "Sure. Whatever."
Guess what? Last I actually checked 7 brands carry my prescription in monthly. A few carry my prescription in contacts that need to be changed every 2 weeks. But none of them carry my prescription in contacts that need to be changed every week or every day. (Which is apparently better or something. Idk.)
Why the fuck would I trust the doctors that gaslight me every year about what contacts I can use to suggest surgery for my eyes?
And that's not even getting into the very weird specific issues I have with my vision that eye doctors just.... shrug off... like they legit just ignore it. Like no matter what prescription they put me in I can always tell my vision doesn't match up to my peers even though I technically test 20/20.
(I know about the whole relax your eyes when you test thing. I literally tell my optometrist "Yo. Like this shit so blurry." And they just tell me that this is the best they can correct me to. Just try to focus my eyes more. This this isn't fucking normal.)
Idk. Ableds (derogatory) need to stop demanding disabled people get their shit fixed and instead ask "What the fuck is wrong with the system that these disabled people don't trust it to fix their shit?"
(Not everyone that wears glasses considers themselves disabled. If you don't consider yourself disabled, good for you. But my vision literally can't be fixed to match my peers, so... not to mention glasses can cost people hundreds of dollars and if your vision is shit enough the weight of the lenses can seriously wear and tear on your frames and your face.)
-fae
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shieldofiron · 1 year
Text
You Never Can Tell
This fic is inspired by my Sims Harringrove family, and is a celebration of my 1000 follower count (now it’s more than 1000 but shh act like I had this ready on time.) Omegaverse with Mpreg (With a Twist), Omega Steve and Alpha Billy, SUPER FLUFFY. Also on AO3 here.
Steve didn’t believe he was really going to do this. As if to punctuate the thought, the baby kicked in his stomach, and he instinctively covered his stomach with his hand.
Hargrove couldn’t meet his eye, silently adding a new pillowcase to one of his pillows, but his eyes darted to Steve’s stomach. He’d been trying not to stare, which Steve appreciated, but some things couldn’t be helped.
“Thanks for doing this,” Steve said, trying to keep his voice steady while the baby kicked the shit out of his ribs.
“Don’t mention it,” Billy said gruffly, tossing the pillow onto the thin mattress, “Least I can do.”
That wasn’t true. Billy could do a lot less. Steve had been couchsurfing for weeks, trying to find something more permanent than being hidden in Nancy’s basement, subsisting on pop tarts and whatever Jonathan could spare from dinner.
The situation with his parents had been slowly deteriorating ever since he had to tell them that the alpha was attending university and Steve didn’t want to tell her. Besides, he didn’t really have any attachment to her, and Steve wasn’t looking to turn this into some sort of shotgun mating.
When he’d told his father that he wasn’t interested in repeating his parent’s mistakes and mating the first person that had knocked him up, everything had gone from bad to worse.
Steve thought they would get over it. They thought he would eventually freak and give the baby away or get an abortion. And before it got really bad and they damaged everything forever, Steve had decided to move out.
It wasn’t like they really knew him. At least not all the parts of him. They were practically ghosts to each other, rattling around in a big house, not a family at all. They didn’t understand why Steve wanted this, even if it was hard. They didn’t understand wanting a family, or they wouldn’t have made just a facsimile of one.
And they weren’t interested in having an unmated pregnant omega around, even if he was their son. So it was a surprise that Billy Hargrove was interested. At all.
The alpha had changed since the whole disaster at Starcourt. They all had. But Billy Hargrove going from polite nods in the grocery store to offering to room with Steve and giving up his bedroom for a baby… that hadn’t been on Steve’s bingo card for this year at all.
The next best offer was staying at the Byers, but between El and Hopper, the house was getting fuller by the minute. 
Billy plucked Steve’s pregnancy pillow from his arms and laid it out over the center of the bed, “There. It’ll be just like a sleepover.”
“Yeah. Every night.”
Billy laughed, “Just the three of us.”
Steve’s hand fell back to his stomach instinctively.
“You, me, and old reliable here,” Billy patted the pillow, “Unless she has a name.”
Steve huffed out a little laugh, “Not yet.”
Billy eyed the fat pink thing, “Looks like a Dorothy to me.”
Steve smiled, “I think she’s more of a Blanche.”
Billy grinned, sliding a hand along the pillow, “Oh really? My kinda girl.”
“You’re really cool with this? I can sleep on the floor until I get a cot.”
Billy’s scent flared with displeasure, igniting the room quickly and then dissipating, “I’m not making a pregnant dude sleep on the fucking floor. No way.”
Steve was too afraid to ask if Billy would sleep on the floor. He thought Max had mentioned something about a bad back, the doctors having to fuse or nail the lower vertebrae of Billy’s spine.
And besides… it wasn’t like Billy was going to make a move on him or something. There had been a time in high school where Steve had thought maybe, but…
In the dark, trying to get comfortable around his pregnancy pillow, with Billy pumping out calming alpha hormones, that time seemed all too real.
Not that Steve was looking for an alpha. He had a lot on his mind. He’d gone from spending his pitiful paychecks liberally, on treats for Dustin and expensive hair products, to counting his pennies to buy a crib and make up his half of the rent. In the dark, Steve tugged on his too long hair where it curled over his collar.
“Does the baby have a name yet?” Billy’s voice wasn’t quite a whisper, but it wasn’t nearly near his normal speaking voice. The sound skittered across Steve’s skin, painting his cheeks pink.
Steve tugged the pregnancy pillow closer, trying to arrange it so that his stomach was comfortable. This was weird, right? Or is the weirdest part that he didn’t feel all that weird about it.
“I was thinking if it’s a girl… I like Tessa,” Steve mumbled, “And if it’s a boy, maybe like, Ben? Or Benjamin. I dunno.”
“Sounds nice,” Billy did that half whisper thing again.
———————————
Steve had to delay getting the cot because Billy found a deal on a crib, they just had to drive to the next town to get it. Then Billy pointed out that a cot probably wouldn’t be good for Steve’s back and besides, they had a good thing going with Dorothy/Blanche between them. And didn’t it make the most sense for Steve to get stuff for the baby first?
Steve had to admit, he was getting more and more used to this one bed thing. They’d officially moved it into the dining room after Billy built the crib in one afternoon while Steve was at work.
And it got less awkward as time went on. Both the bed thing and the roommate thing. They angled the tv so that they could see it from the bed, and went to sleep watching old movies that Steve brought back from Family Video and reruns and shit, curled around the pregnancy pillow. Steve spent a lot of time readying for the baby in their new room, tucking newly cleaned onesies into the thrift store dresser that they’d found and Billy had kindly painted for him.
Billy was always making too much for dinner because he was used to cooking for his whole family, so there was often more than enough for Steve, and anyone else who came over too. Even Dustin had grudgingly admitted that Billy was a good cook after Billy had made the whole party spaghetti. He’d made fast friends with Robin, and sometimes Steve would go to bed while they chattered away for hours in the kitchen, only waking when Billy slid in next to him, murmuring quiet goodnights.
Some people still found it weird.
“When is he gonna get his own bed?” Max was trying to be quiet, but apparently that didn’t run in either hers or Billy’s family.
Steve balanced the groceries on his hip and shut the door gently behind him, leaning back and stretching out his sore back.
“I dunno, Max, it’s fine,” Billy said back, the alpha’s voice pitched low like a warning growl.
“I just think-”
“Max, lay off, okay,” Billy huffed. “It’s Harrington’s decision. And we haven’t had any problems yet.”
“But it’s not fair, I can’t believe you’re letting it happen.”
Steve frowned, not sure what she meant by that.
“It’ll be fine, Max, you’ll see.”
Max had stalked out, making an indignant noise when she saw Steve at the door, grabbing her skateboard with a huff, and walking out of the apartment.
“What was that all about?” Steve crept around to the kitchen.
“Ah, nothing. She’s just sixteen,” Billy was leaning over a large pot on the stove. “You know. Sixteen year old girl shit.”
Steve didn’t know. He had no idea, actually.
“How does stew sound? I thought Max was staying, so I made too much,” Billy’s shoulders were tensed close to his body.
“Billy,” Steve sighed, resting a hand on his belly, “Maybe… maybe we should revisit me getting the twin bed for the nursery. Besides, I’m getting up like ten times a night to pee. That can’t be good for your sleep…”
“If that’s what you want,” Billy shrugged, “Taste this, let me know if it needs salt.”
Steve carefully lowered himself down into one of the dining tables and obligingly opened his mouth. Billy brought over the wooden spoon laden with stew, that he blew on carefully before feeding it to Steve.
“‘S fine,” Steve mumbled, though he couldn’t say he’d really tasted it.
Billy really was a great alpha, took care of Steve so much. He was close to ending his apprenticeship at the mechanic’s shop, and he was making good money. He wasn’t blowing it on stuff either. He was responsible, and caring.
And Steve was here, sleeping in his bed, taking up the space that would eventually be taken by Billy’s true omega. It couldn’t have been easy for Billy, it would be hard to find someone to date with a random pregnant guy in his bed, eating all his leftovers.
Billy turned to his stew, dancing a little to the old Chuck Berry song on the radio. He lowered the heat and turned the radio up, spinning around and pulling Steve to his feet.
“Billy, I think-”
Billy wrapped one warm arm around Steve’s waist, taking the other hand in his.
“Just dance, pretty boy.”
It was a little awkward with Steve’s belly between them, but Billy spun him around, laughing a little, like whatever argument he’d had with Max didn’t matter. He pulled Steve close, filling Steve’s senses with his cool salty ocean scent and a hint of cigarettes and motor oil that made him a little dizzy. But it wasn’t the pregnancy. No, Steve couldn’t lie to himself that much.
That night in bed, Steve couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t that he wasn’t comfortable. Billy’s bed really was heavenly, soft and plush. He’d admitted to Steve once that this was the first thing he splurged on when he moved out on his own with his money from Starcourt. Not only because he needed it for his back, but because his dad had apparently piled all of Billy’s shit on his old mattress and lit it on fire before skipping town.
And that was a part of the problem. What was Steve meant to do with all of the stuff he knew about Billy? All the small things that Steve had stored up, like a squirrel for the winter. It was all instinct, not something he meant to do. But somehow he started to think of Billy as…
Steve rolled over and watched Billy. His mouth was open, tongue lolling out slightly and drool dripping from his mouth down his cheek into his pillow and rumpled curls.
Maybe Billy wasn’t always the kindest of alphas. He was prone to black moods, withdrawing, sulking in the shower or curling up for long naps. His stories about his childhood made the reason evident enough, but still. He was crass, often loud and made more dirty jokes than a retired sailor.
He apparently didn’t know how to portion a meal, though Steve had a sneaking suspicion that he did. He just wanted Steve to be fed. He built a crib for the baby, gave up half of his bed, working his whole life around a child that he didn’t even know, had no ties to.
And there was the knot of the issue. When Steve had a baby here, with Billy around… it would be like… sort of felt like…
Billy snuffled and rolled closer, throwing a hand over the pregnancy pillow. It grazed Steve’s belly softly, and the baby rolled, moving towards Billy’s warmth.
Steve worried himself to sleep, vowing that in the morning they would have to talk, work something out. Because he was pretty sure if he stayed here much longer he was going to fall in love with Billy, and that could only end badly.
Because Billy was… too good for this. Too good for this situation, too good for Steve, who couldn’t even take care of his own pup, and didn’t know how to budget, hardly knew how to cook…
Steve had fully resolved to cut things off and move out in the morning. He needed to stand on his own two feet. He needed to leave before he…
Steve woke up and at first, he thought something was wrong with him. The only thing he had looked forward to while being pregnant was not having his heat. But he woke up cramping, slick between his thighs.
His eyes snapped open, “B-Billy, I think the baby…”
Billy wasn’t there.
Steve carefully got to his feet. These were probably contractions. He was probably just an idiot.
There was light coming from the bathroom. With every step, it hurt a little worse. It really felt like a heat, not like the doctor or all the books had said labor would.
He knocked softly, “Billy.”
“Go away, Harrington.”
Steve frowned. He thought he wasn’t Harrington anymore. It hurt worse than he imagined it would but he tried to push it aside.
“Billy, I think I’m having contractions,” Steve leaned against the door.
Billy groaned beyond the door, “God fucking… of course… I wanted to be there, Steve. I was really excited to see the baby. But you’ll have to get someone else to drive you.”
“Why?”
“I’m having my fucking rut, I s-shouldn’t leave the bathroom.”
Steve leaned against the door, “Oh.”
“I’m sorry,” Billy said softly.
“No, I… that makes more sense actually…”
“What?”
“I thought I was in heat at first. I’m probably just… y’know…”
“Right.” Billy’s voice was clipped off sharply at the end.
“I could…” Steve’s heart rose. Just a little. In any other circumstance he was pretty sure Billy would turn him down but in a rut… maybe…
“Oh, no,” Billy said swiftly. “No, it’s okay. You go back to bed.”
Steve rested his forehead against the door, and Billy whimpered inside.
“Billy,” Steve mumbled.
“Steve,” Billy groaned, “Go back to bed. I might try to leave, take a drive. Clear my head.”
Steve was pretty sure Billy meant he would go to do something else, but it was nice of him to pretend, for Steve’s sake. And he got the picture, really he did.
Steve crawled back into bed, holding his pregnancy pillow close as he listened for Billy to leave. He pretended he wasn’t crying, like Billy pretended that he was just going to take a drive and not to go find another, better omega to spend his rut with. Just like Steve pretended that didn’t hurt, and that he wasn’t already in love.
Later in the morning, Steve woke up alone for the first time in weeks. He got up and made some toast, even though he didn’t feel much like eating it. He didn’t have a shift today which was a shame, he could have really used some distraction.
Instead, he just wandered around the apartment, picking things up and putting them down. Turning the tv on and off. Going through the baby clothes again, the ones that he’d cleaned and folded with Billy. He sat on the edge of Billy’s bed that he’d increasingly started to think of as their bed, and had leftover stew. The baby was kicking like crazy, and without Billy’s low singing to soothe the baby, Steve didn’t know what to do. Even his baby loved Billy more than him.
The whole thing was making him feel rather pathetic, actually. So when Lucas rang the bell at four, Steve couldn’t blame himself for leaping for it.
“Bi- Oh, hey, man,” Steve bit his lip. Of course Billy wouldn’t ring the bell at his own house. He felt like an idiot.
“Hey,” Lucas smiled, holding out a covered dish. “My mom made some extra casserole, she asked me to bring this over on my way to Mike’s.”
Steve blinked at him, “Does everyone in this whole town know I can’t cook?”
“No,” Lucas didn’t lower his hands, “She really made extra. She told me.”
Steve frowned, but eyed up the container. Whatever it was, it smelled good. Cheesy and potato-y, not like the super healthy crap his mom used to make when he lived at home.
“Okay,” Steve took it, “Fine. Thanks.”
“No problem…” Lucas waved, “Well. See you, Steve.”
Steve came back into the kitchen and frowned, staring at the innocent container. Lucas and Billy weren’t the best of friends, but they’d slowly started to make their peace, even hanging out a few times. It was weird of Lucas not to mention Billy, or to just bring enough for one.
His suspicions were confirmed the next day at work.
Robin came back from lunch, her eyes trained on the floor, “Hey, uh, my mom packed too much in my lunch so I left it out back there.”
“What?”
“My mom made me too much,” Robin noded, sort of weirdly. “I left it out for you, if you don’t want to go to the chinese place.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Because you’re my friend,” Robin bit her lip, “And my mom made too much.”
“Your mom made too much of the same peanut butter, no jelly sandwich, with one apple that you’ve eaten since you were eight?”
Robin’s eyes danced to the Romance section, “Yeah.”
“Spill it, Buckley.”
“I can’t!” She cried.
“Oh, can’t you,” Steve rolled his eyes, “Come on. What’s the deal?”
She gnawed her lip, “So… Nancy called me last night and asked me, y’know, as a favor, to bring an extra sandwich.”
“Nancy called-” Steve wrinkled his nose.
“Well, I guess… Billy’s been holed up at Susan’s, he asked Max and your little brigade of tiny dorks to keep you fed,” Robin frowned, “So Mike thought he’d ask Nancy who asked me. So it’s not like…. A big deal…”
“Not a big deal,” Steve threw up his hands, “Why doesn’t everyone just take an ad out in the paper. Jesus, I knew Billy thought I was pathetic, but-”
“Billy doesn’t think you’re pathetic, dingus,” She rolled her eyes.
“Yes, he does. The other night I even asked him to share his rut with me, because… wait. How would you know what Billy thinks of me?”
Her eyes were still caught mid roll when she froze, cringing.
“What do you know, Buckley,” Steve pressed.
“I mean, I don’t know anything for sure,” She hemmed, sliding around the counter and tugging on her jaunty tie.
“But you know something, don’t you?”
“I don’t know anything,” She sighed, “But… Steve… come on.”
“What?”
“You haven’t spoken to the guy in what, a few years-”
“We waved. Sometimes.”
“And then he comes up out of the woodwork to take you to his small one bedroom apartment,” She smirked, but her eyes got starry. Starry like Doctor Zhivago-y. “And he’s building the crib and taking you to doctor’s appointments, and cooking you food because he knows you can’t cook.”
“I really want to know who told him I can’t cook,” Steve pouted.
“I did,” She took him by the arms, “But the point, Steve, is that he spent his rut locked in a bedroom at his stepmom’s trailer, or did you miss that part?”
Steve twisted a little, ready to deny it.
“And why are you so interested anyway,” Robin smiled. “He’s just free food, right?”
“Billy isn’t just free food,” Steve snapped back.
“Okay. Then what is he?”
“He’s… nice to me. Puts on bad movies and dances with me in the kitchen and drives too fast and…” Steve frowned. “He does stuff for the baby but also there’s other stuff too. It’s like I’m not pregnant or… no… like he’s cool just hanging out with me. And me being pregnant, the baby… that’s all just cool with him. Like he likes… even that part of me.”
Robin nodded, “Yes. And how do you feel about that?”
“I really… I fucking miss him, Robin,” Steve doesn’t immediately recognize the feeling, but the baby kicks like he finally hit the buzzer.
“Yes,” Robin nodded, “Now, when he comes out of rut, I don’t want to hear anything about how you’re a bad omega or some shit. Go get your man.”
Steve intended to. The only thing was it turned out to be slightly harder to get your man when you started to have contractions near the end of your shift. Steve had heard that the first time giving birth there was plenty of time, but that really didn’t seem to be the case. All too soon, it got out of hand. He called and left a message at Susan’s, hoping maybe Billy might be able to hear it if he wasn’t banging some other omega across the mattress. And Robin insisted that she could drive him with her learner’s permit, but the drive to the hospital had also taken about two decades off of his life.
It shouldn’t matter that Billy wasn’t there. He wasn’t really the baby’s dad. Robin was there, helping him fill out the forms. And the contractions weren’t really that bad, except for sometimes when they were. Steve gripped the plasticky waiting room chair, trying to breathe through the pain while Robin hurried through the questions.
When he finally got in a room it turned out his regular doctor, who had been seeing him for months, was off for the day after a marathon cesarean surgery. And would Steve mind if they call another doctor in?
He minded. He minded quite a bit but he was terrified to say it, so he just shut up and got on the bed when they told him. Robin was out of her mind a little, but she was holding his hand and telling him to breathe through it.
“You can go, I got this,” Steve told her.
“As if,” Robin sniffed, “This is best friend privilege. I’m overruling you.”
“Rob-”
“Motion carried,” A voice cut in.
They both turned towards the door. Billy was sweating like he’d run there from the trailer, but it was probably just his rut. He sagged against the door.
“You came,” Steve breathed.
“Best friend privilege. Gets you out of all sorts of tight jams,” Billy smiled, “Also I called the Doc before I drove in. She’s gonna hook me up with some rut calming injections.”
“You called her? B-but she’s supposed to be off until Monday-”
“Funny, she didn’t mention that,” Billy shrugged, “Now, how are you doing, pretty boy?”
Steve’s eyes did not have permission to fill with tears but they did anyway.
“Pretty boy?”
“Steve?” Robin whispered, “Is it… is something wrong?”
“No, I-” Steve swiped at his eyes and immediately broke into a sob.
“Oh,” Robin looked between them, “Let me give you all a moment alone.”
Billy was still hanging onto the door when Robin dashed out, “What’s wrong? Steve?”
“I didn’t have time to plan,” Steve tried to still his voice but there was still more than a little bit of a wail at the end.
“Plan what? Are you missing something? Your hospital bag, I can drive out right fucking now and get-”
“No. Billy, why did you ask me to move in?”
Billy blinked, “To help you out. Steve, I don’t understand, what do you need to plan?”
“How to tell you that I’m in love with you.”
It took Steve a moment to be able to suck in a breath and look up. Billy was staggering towards the bed, his scent heavy with rut, his mouth open. It reminded Steve a little of how Billy looked when he slept, his mouth open, cheeks soft and pink.
“What?”
“I know that’s… God, probably the last thing you wanted when you offered to let me stay,” Steve whispered, “But, Billy, I-”
“It’s all I could hope for,” Billy was leaning on the edge of the bed, his eyes wide with shock.
“What?”
“Everyone told me it was crazy. I mean it was crazy, because there was every chance you’d hate me, loathe living with me-” Billy broke off, shaking his head a little. “But I’ve been hopelessly in love with you, Steve. For years. Tried to deny it, lie about it…”
“Billy,” Steve whispered, “Why did you ask me to move in?”
“You needed help and I’m… I’m in love with you. I had to offer. When you love someone you offer to help them.”
“And you don’t care? About the baby?”
“What about the baby?”
“That it’s not yours.”
“It’s not mine?” Billy gasped incredulously, and then his face split into a grin. “No. I don’t care about that.”
“You really-”
“Love you. Yes, I do Steve. And you-”
“Love you,” Steve broke off with a gasp, grabbing out and holding onto the guard rail on his bed with white knuckles, “Shit.”
Billy reached out and took his hand, “Sorry, sweetheart. Worst timing ever.”
“Just,” Steve gritted out between his teeth, “When this is all over, kiss me?”
“When this is all over, you’ll have a baby, and the kiss of your life,” Billy held Steve’s hand tightly to his chest. “Promise.”
And just a few hours later, with baby Ben in a tiny bassinet next to the bed and Robin asleep in the visitors chair, Billy curled around Steve on the tiny hospital bed, and after wiping the happy tears from Steve’s eyes with his thumbs, Billy did just that.
Billy’s lips were soft and when he pulled back, pressing small kisses to the corner of Steve’s mouth, the whimper he made was soft too.
“You’re amazing,” Billy whispered, “That was… incredible.”
“Yeah?” Steve’s eyes squeezed out a few tears, “I feel pretty incredible.”
“Good,” Billy rubbed his thumbs across Steve’s cheeks.
“You’re really okay with…” Steve sucked in a breath when Billy’s breath ghosted over his lips again. “All of this?”
“All of this is all I want,” Billy kissed him, slipping his tongue inside and just stroking softly at the sensitive inside of Steve’s lips.
“How are Oma and Papa,” A nurse breezed in, clipboard in hand.
“I-”
“We’re good,” Steve interrupted. “Feeling pretty incredible, actually.”
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themultifandomgal · 1 year
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Hey sweetheart =)
I LOVE your wonderful writing and wanted to thank you for making me happy with your stories. Such a safe place is so important to escape the cruel reality sometimes. I have a request for you and really hope you're up for writing it. Please let me know if you like it. It's a protective Kelly Severide x fem! Oc or reader fic. Kelly has a new neighbor and he's instantly taken aback from this young beautiful woman. Unfortunately she suffers from a heart failure and because of that she's often dizzy and nauseous (maybe Kelly finds her one day nearly passed out on her doorstep and since that day they're getting closer. Worried Kelly... I'm desperate for it :D) after a while she gets to know the whole firehouse which instantly loves the shy girl. She even helps Herman with the Bookkeeping of Molly's. Kelly and the whole team always has an eye on her and helps when she's feeling miserable because auf her heart disease. Her life could be perfect, when there wasn't danger lurking around the corner. She's running from her stalking ex and he seemed to find her. Harassing her with messages and calls on her phone. Her friends from 51 notice her change, the jumpiness and her pale appearance but she brushes it off. One day at Kelly's (they are definitely growing closer even shared a kiss) he "accidentally" reads a text message (because he got suspicious days ago because her mobile is constantly getting messages) from her stalker, but Kelly assumes that she's seeing another man. He confronts her and says some nasty things totally in shock she can't defend herself and he kicks her out. Super dizzy she because of the stress and her alleviated heart rate she stumbles in her apartment, nearly in panic that she lost Kelly. The next day Herman worries that she's more than one hour late, because she wanted to help him at Molly's with the books. He calls Kelly and Kelly, even brooding and full of anger he checks on her. She doesn't opens the door and worried sick he uses his spare keys (he finds her on her bathroom floor on the brink of unconsciousness. She was there the whole night throwing up. With a racing heart and struggling with breathlessness he brings her in his apartment, calling Will in panic....)
Will she reveal her secret, are they come clean with theit feelings for each other? Incoming happy end 🙏🥺
Sorry for this long shit. Couldn't hold my horses. HOPEFULLY it's a content you would like to write about. I'm a sucker for sick fics and protective Kelly with angst, drama and fluff.
Well, send you my best wishes ❤️
Kelly Severide- I’m Here To Stay Pt1
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Sorry this took so long for me to write but I hope you enjoyed this one as much as I enjoyed writing it!
Kelly Severide gets ready to leave the firehouse  after a long day at work
"Spoken to the new neighbour yet?" Capp smiles wiggling his eyebrows throwing his bag over his shoulder
"Shut up" Kelly crosses his arms
"So that's a no then. Well you never know you might be lucky to tonight"
For the last 2 weeks now Kelly has been giving his new neighbour a small wave and smile, but has yet to introduce himself to her. He finds her rather attractive, but what's weird is normally Kelly has no problem going up to a pretty girl, but YN? YN seems different, there's something about her that makes Kelly loose all of his words. Once his co-workers found this out a week ago, they have done nothing but torture him.
Now YN wasn't unaware of how attractive her neighbour is. He was her type to a tea, but seeing him coming home in his firemen uniform made her shy, to shy to go up and say hi. Not only that but why would she want to bother her new neighbour with her illness? She's already talking to doctors at Chicago med about having a heart valve replacement. Capp was right. That evening Kelly saw YN sat with her head in her hands. He slowly makes his way over to the woman
"Hi, erm are you ok?" YN looks up at Kelly
"Oh erm yeah don't worry. Just had a dizzy spell don't worry"
"Let me help you inside"
"Oh no don't worry I'm fine" YN slowly gets up but starts to sway
"Yeah your not right. Let me help you" giving in YN gives Kelly her keys. He guides her into her house and into the living room and sits her down "let me get you a drink. Where do you keep your glasses?"
"Cupboard above the bread bin, but you really don't need to...." before YN can finish her sentence Kelly has left the room and making his way to the kitchen. He soon returns with a glass full of juice "found some orange squash, thought you could do with a bit of sugar"
"Thank you" YN takes the glass off Kelly
"We've not formally met one another yet. I'm Kelly by the way"
"I'm YN" YN and Kelly shake hands. YN then takes a large gulp of her juice and starts to feel better
"How are you feeling now?" Kelly asks, concern still laced in his voice
"Much better thank you"
That evening the pair spent many hours talking and getting to know one another. A friendship quickly blossomed between the two. After a week Kelly couldn't stop talking about his beautiful, kind and funny neighbour. The rest of the firehouse all knew that his friendship was blossoming into more, even if the pair couldn't yet see it.
YN actually told Kelly about her heart condition fairly early on in their friendship, having this feeling that she can just trust him. Kelly of course has to make sure his new friend is ok, he will text her everyday asking how she is, and now YN will message Kelly by her own accord if she's struggling that day.
Kelly sits at the table with a plate full of food in front of him when he gets a text off YN letting him know she isn't feeling very well today. Kelly sighs putting his sandwich down
"What's up with your face?" Leslie asks sitting opposite Kelly
"Just YN isn't feeling very well today"
"You care a lot about her don't you?"
"We're friends"
"Hmm keep telling yourself that Severide. You care like how a boyfriend would care. Why don't you go and pick her up. Bring her here for the day. That way you can stop worrying about her"
"You think Chief would allow that?" Kelly raises a brow at his best friend who shrugs
"Go ask him" and so Kelly does just that.
At first Boden laughs thinking Kelly was joking, but once he realises how serious he's being, Boden can't do anything but say yes letting YN spend the day at the firehouse, especially after Kelly told him that YN has a heart condition.
That day was spent with YN in Kelly's office, catching up on last nights sleep and Kelly looking after her. Over time YN got closer to Kelly telling him everything about her. About her ex who was to clingy (like obsessive) and how she's trying to stay hidden from him. Of course Kelly took this as his role to keep her safe and look after her.
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clingylilhoneybee · 3 days
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Hey yall, I just wanted to pop in here and try to utilize my platform to bring awareness to a few things while I talk about taking a break on posting personal content of my body.
TLDR: I’m taking a break on posting new content for a currently undetermined amount of time due to a recent diagnosis of PCOS and my body adjusting as i have started to begin treatment
If you’ve been around a while, y’all know that I went through a restrictive eating disorder as a teenager and struggled to recover in an environment where I was seen as “starting to get bigger” at the time of buying a size 4 dress for a school dress. That period of recovery then coincided with starting college, leaving that family environment and a number of other things that led to me gaining a significant amount of weight, but ultimately translated to me being at a healthy weight for myself.
However, despite multiple lifestyle changes (in directions that would logically lead to more or less weight gain), I continued to gain in the realm of 10-15 pounds a year during every year of adulthood, in a way that I described as “making total sense until it didn’t”. This went on at the same time as my periods being out of whack, which I originally attributed to birth control, and chronic fatigue that I could always find an excuse for, especially as someone who was a student in higher education until these last two years.
It wasn’t until about a year ago that I became aware that a notable amount of women in my family had PCOS, and that nearly all the bigger women in my family were not just “lazy and can’t stick to a diet” like I was led to believe my whole life. Thus started the journey of the last few months for me.
After stopping hormonal birth control and ruling that out as an explanation for my symptoms about 2 years ago, I’ve been working with my doctor and recently settled on a PCOS diagnosis. During my bloodwork, I was found to have significant insulin resistance, which is likely responsible for my body gaining such a notable about of weight. Because of this diagnosis and the bloodwork, I was started on medication to manage my symptoms, which also has the side effect of weight loss. During the last 2ish months, I’ve seen a total change in my symptoms. Regular periods, massive increase in energy levels, and also a notable weight change.
As someone who has spent years working through body neutrality and separating weight from moral value, it’s been fuckin hard. I’ve had to work through emotions of my weight gain being the result of illness, and the grief of fatphobia in my family being a direct cause of me not being diagnosed earlier. It’s so hard to reconcile that my weight loss is good, not because I’m smaller but because it’s treating a symptom of a chronic condition I didn’t even knew I had. There’s also many PCOS spaces that emphasize the moral value of weight loss and spend a lot of time shitting on their bodies before treatment, and tend to focus solely on how their treatment has changed their size, and not much else. On top of that, there’s some level of guilt in being on one of the “skinny meds” (and possibly being on the oh so popular glp-1 meds in the near future) feeling like a betrayal to the body positivity movement I’ve found community in, and a “cheating” method of weight loss to the broader society who treats weight loss as a discipline based skill. Add on the comments from SO many people about my body changing and it’s been hard to work through all the emotions and settle into a point where I’m comfortable with my body.
This has also led to me being even stronger in my boundaries around my size being fetishized. While I was always uncomfortable as someone in recovery, and as someone who never wants my attractiveness linked to my size, it’s also been so frustrating and emotional to see a body that has come from neglect and unnecessary struggle being fetishized for the physical manifestation of that struggle.
So overall I’ve only posted 2 new posts since I’ve started this medication, with only one actually showing a significant amount of my body (any others have been old, reposted content). I’ve always promised myself to never post what I am uncomfortable with, just to keep up popularity and get positive attention so I fully expect this trend to keep up as I become more comfortable with the way that my body is changing. I know that’s what many of you follow me for, and I figured I’d give an explanation that includes bringing awareness to a chronically under-diagnosed condition and giving a place for me to talk through the struggles in my journey so far
I hope yall stick around while this blog is primarily reblogs for the foreseeable future, but if not please take this as your awareness post for PCOS, which, even with a massive lack of information in the medical community leading to crazy amounts of under-diagnosis, is estimated to affect as many as 1 in 5 people with ovaries
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chiyeko-kurea · 1 month
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white girl rant
mc tavish scottish accent i hate mini doorways i can’t see if someones comin in until they’re in the middle of my room like jeez stop giving me anxiety i love when i wake up and my dog is on my bed. i know it’s because im the only one who allows her to sleep on my bed but i like to think that in the middle of the night her brain just thought of me and went ‘i wanna go sleep next to her’ i know it’s not the case she’s just bored of sleeping on the hard floor yet she always falls alseep in my sister’s bedroom she prefers to go there just to be beside her oh my god the only thing that makes her finally go in my room is discomfort. but when she wakes up she asks for cuddles and to be pet a bit and i like to imagine she’s my dog only and she’s mine and she gets me and she’s not my freaking dad’s favorite daughter. and she prefers my dad he made me so upset today i cried and i felt ashamed and like a loser because i asked him several times to sign me up to a tennis class to try it out and he did and then i panicked so much i couldn’t do it because i dont want to be alone with a man but then it was gonna be a woman days later so i said yay but the days flew by and i realized to matter who i can never find what to say and im awkward and ugly and my whole lower face skin is peeling away and my teeth are fucked up and my chin skin is flayed raw and bright bloody red and i have acne and dark circles and an embarrassing smile and i can’t play tennis for shit. for. shit. so i acted all moody teenager and i thought my dad was gonna be like you know what it’s fine if you dont wanna do it i don’t get why you changed your mind but that’s okay i’ll just cancel it. he didn’t. he was aggressive and mean and purposely shamed me in front of the family and reminded very loudly the price even though he didn’t even paid yet and my sister had to go for me and i sat there watching her be so extraverted and comfortable with a stranger when i know i wouldn’t have been able to say a word that didn’t sounded weird and wanting to cry every second and burst in tears and my dad was so so mean and usually he gets me, and my sister saved me and went i got home i burst into tears in my room and he just wanted me to try a new thing and i just wanted to cut cut cut and why on earth am i this fucking awkward loser with my earphones in and too big black hoodie like im some kind of pseudo rebellious annoying emo kid i just want to be pretty and funny and shine like why do i the worse part is i kind of really wanted to try tennis. and i think i would’ve been good. i think would not have made a total fool of myself thing is whatever i do i am a fool anyway, i am a fool for even thinking for one day of my goddamn life i could have not ruined everything. my dad looked at me weirdly the rest of the evening and i wanted to yell maybe im reminding you of your loser son you lost to drugs no shocker we get along i also want to lose myself and you saw my scars you know there’s something wrong with me and there’s something wrong with him and with you and with all of us and wherever your blood is. i like my dad, he’s a good father but at the end of the day he’s a man, and not a better one than the others. if i have good grades and a pretty face let me tell you there is NOTHING you can complain of me. i am working on my appearance to be prettier to not embarrass you anymore but one day you will have nothing to complain about and i will do whatever i want and you will try to say what changed and i will say it’s not of your business anymore you can introduce me to anyone and say yes she’s my daughter she is clever pretty she has friends she reads and she jogs and i will be perfect and i will throw plates at your head and i will be the worse and no one will know. montgommery forever and ever and ever and i will blow up and i will become a doctor and have a boyfriend and you will say we used to laugh and i will say you were there but somehow the moments when i NEEDED you to understand me you didn’t. you got me but never got me. i cant stop seeing you as a man no matter how fathe
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eclecticqueennerd · 1 year
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Confessions
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Y/N Ending
Staring at Homelander’s corpse, breathing ragged, you felt a hand touch your shoulder. You turn around and see Butcher standing next to you. How is this possible? Homelander beat him within an inch of his life, at the very least he should be comatose. You see the rolled-up sleeve and track marks.
“Come on, let’s leave before others find out what happened.” Butcher goes to grab your hand and you snatch them away.
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“Y/n I aint fuckin around. You just dusted Vought’s pride and joy and they’re gonna be lookin for ya. We need to leave while we can.”
“I’m not going anywhere with a liar!”
“Wha?”
“Your arm.” Butcher looks down, “You just shot up Temp-V after you promised you wouldn’t. How can I trust you if you can’t even keep your promises?”
“What else was I supposed to do y/n I was dying! We can talk about this later.”
“We’re not talking about anything later. Bye Butcher.” You begin to walk away from Butcher but then he grabs your arm.
“You don’t get to walk away from me.”
“Is there a problem here?” Ben now at your side. You step away from both men, Butchers eyes narrow.
“Mind your fucking business you supe cunt.”
“Anything with y/n is my business. How many times do I have to remind you, she’s, my girl.”
“She aint your girl she’s mine.”
“I’m no one’s girl!” The two men break the stare off and look at you. “This whole time I’ve been helping you fight Vought and fight Payback; I never got a chance to be what it’s like to be by myself. I never got to grieve for my poor husband.” You start crying. Butcher reaches out for you. “No! Don’t touch me. I’m done with this superhero shit.” You leave before the two of them get a chance to change your mind.
*
You find out that Grace was in the hospital, and you rushed to be by her side. Homelander never killed her but the attack left her paralyzed. In hopes to repay her for all her kindness, you become her caretaker. You helped her with daily activities, bathing, dressing, cooking, and cleaning.
“You know y/n you don’t have to do this.” Grace would always tell you in the beginning.
“I know I don’t have to do it; I want to. I want to repay all the kindness you showed me.” Grace helped you find a therapist to work out the shit you went through and how to develop copeing skills for when your PTSD arose its ugly head. Winding down one evening, the two of you were sitting in the living room watching the news when you got a strong urge to vomit. You ran to the bathroom did so. Confused, you walked back to the living room and Grace gave you a look.
“You, okay?”
“Yeah, something must not have agreed with my stomach, I just puked.” Graces attention fell back towards the tv.
“Hmm.”
The following morning, you felt like garbage. You made multiple trips to the bathroom, either to vomit or dry heave. You also noticed that your breasts were more tender than they have been, which isn’t normal. Weird…
“Y/n, have you thought about taking a pregnancy test?” Grace asked once you sat down at the breakfast table with a glass of tepid water.
“I don’t see the point in that, I can’t get pregnant after getting my tubes tied.”
“Theres always a small chance of getting pregnant y/n, the doctor explained that when you were still drugged, which I think he should’ve waited. Did you use protection when you shacked up with Butcher?” Oh shit. You made a doctor’s appointment.
*
“I’m afraid Grace is right y/n, test results came back positive, we tested both your blood and urine. We can perform an ultrasound to determine how far along you are, but basing off your symptoms and the timeline you gave us, we estimate you at approximately 6-8 weeks. We also feel like with your accelerated healing powers, it caused the tubes to grow back together. If it weren’t for you having the abilities you have, the surgery may have been more successful.”
Your heart sank into your stomach. You can’t be pregnant, it wasn’t possible. Reading your expression, the doctor adds,
“We can arrange for… a procedure to take place in a few days’ time if you didn’t want to keep it.” Several minutes of silence befell the room as you mulled over your thoughts.
“I’ll keep it.”
*
Grace’s family heard what happened to her and they arrived at her home to care for her. Even though Grace wanted you to stay, you felt unwelcome by her family. You decided to find an apartment in the city. Packing up the final boxes into the van, you give Grace a hug and bid farewell.
“Make sure you call me when you get there. Send me your schedule for your appointments and I’ll be there for you.”
“Thanks Grace.”
*Third trimester*
Arriving back to your apartment after a long day of being on your feet, you notice a small daisy on your doormat. This event occurred the same day every week since you moved back to the city. You always look around the hallway to see any figures and like usual, no one. You pick up the flower and make your way into the apartment and set it on the counter. Then, strong contractions began in your abdomen and lower back, water trickled down your legs. You pull out your phone,
“Grace, It’s time.”
*4 years later*
You moved to a small town just outside the city. The apartment complex wasn’t awful, it was close enough for you to make the trip into the city but far enough from all the stressors of city life. What prompted the move was the weekly flower delivery made you feel uneasy and watched. You and your daughter, who you named Lyla, always went out for ice cream on Wednesdays at the mom-and-pop ice cream parlor. Walking up to the second floor of the apartment building ice creams in hand, you reach your door and unlock it. The two of you enter the apartment and while you kicked off your shoes, you noticed a familiar pair of boots. Before you could react,
“Mommy? Who’s that?” you look up to where your daughter was pointing. There standing in front of you, was the man you left all those years ago in Vought’s lab. He still looked the same, beard maintained, brown hair a little longer now, his tall frame still holds the same confidence, face appeared more weathered than before.
“Hey.” He spoke. Lyla must’ve noticed the look on your face. She began tugging at your sleeve, showing her nerves. You break eye contact with him and look at your daughter, who serves as the daily reminder of the steamy nights you shared with the man in front of you.
“It’s okay honey. That’s your daddy.”
The end
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