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timothy-chamlet · 4 years

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the afterparty - t.c. fanfic

pair: timmy x female reader

warnings: unprotected sex, general smut

word count: 2.6k (2640)

a//n: ok er ive never written for timmy before so im nervous snsvsj but if you read it tell me what u think !! <3

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people often thought the two of you were dating. paparazzi tended to make it look that way through press. despite all the candid photos of you and timothée plastered in magazine spreads and floating around on blogs, he would tell people you weren't together. interviewers would ask, and time again he would put an end to the rumor by saying you weren't dating, you were just friends.

to be fair, you honestly couldn't even be mad at him. it was a good marketing tactic, at least. if all the girls knew he was single they'd still be invested in the persona of a young, attractive starlet that - despite his more than desirable qualities - is still single. genius. meanwhile you were being his best friend and his trophy for award shows.

it was growing on you though. you enjoyed walking red carpet events and going to extravagant parties and meeting big names in the industry. it was really a win-win for both of you.

another one of those win-win situations was tonight. the past three days had been crazy. hair appointments, nail appointments, dress fittings, photoshoots, brunches, and dinners. running each new day on an hour of sleep - maybe two if you were lucky. fueled by energy drinks and the promise of rest after the event. showing up to an awards ceremony on nothing more than a 20 minute nap and a double shot espresso. being timothée's showpiece was exhausting. but it was good for you.

you had just finished your last consultation for dress fittings and were on your way to your styling appointment. the dress would arrive shortly after you so everything was ready to go. things were set for timothée to meet you there in an hour or so, after his own styling.

currently you're getting your makeup done. a swarm of professionals all around you, handing products, giving directions, telling you how gorgeous you look, at least three hands on you at all times. after almost an hour all the disembodied hands move from your face to reveal the *almost* finished product. you still need your hair done, but your face was flawless. your skin was insanely smooth; not a pore in sight, your lids were a bronze shade, and your lips were a perfect nude.

a hair stylist soon steps into view, also admiring your makeup before diving into your hair. it was simple. a slicked back ponytail is all, careful not to draw away from your face and your dress.

the strong aroma of hairspray clouds you as you maneuver to step into your dress. stripped of your previous clothes, you step into your dress and a couple people help you pull it up. the woman attending to the supper in the back steps away for a moment, seeming to answer a question.

"what's his name?" she asks into her ear piece. "uh yes. she's in here with me. send him in."

she returns behind you and does up the zipper to your dress. to your surprise, you see timothée waltz in the room. dressed in a charcoal gray suit with a light lavender button up underneath. "y/n," he exhales, walking towards you. "you look breathtaking, ma chérie."

"you don't look too bad yourself, timmy," you say, stepping down from your pedestal to be almost eye level with him.

"is she done here?" he asks everyone around without taking his eyes off you.

one of the women there swoops in with a pair of shoes and says, "slip in to these and you're ready to go, darling."

you step into your shoes and link arms with timothée. "carriage awaits," he says as the two of you get escorted to the limo.

once inside you let out a deep breath you didn't know you were holding. "you okay?" he asks from beside you.

"yeah, just.. tired."

he chuckles and drops his head. "absolutely exhausted." you two had similarly scheduled days so he knows exactly how you feel. "don't worry, mon amour, i'll have you home in about 8 hours."

"i thought the awards show was only 4-"

"there's always the afterparty.."

you audibly groan and drop your head as timothée places a reassuring hand on your knee.

"we're here," he says with fake enthusiasm as the limo pulls up to the event. the past 45 minutes felt like hours as your head began to pound from the lack of sleep. yet, lucky you, 45 minutes in l.a. traffic was a miracle.

the two of you step out into the scene. flashing lights from camera flickers, the general buzz of the crowd, people you knew trying to get your attention, people timothée knew trying to get his attention. being the kind person he is, he doesn't shy away from fans calling his name. he walks over to give high fives, say hi, sign things, and really interact with the people that are so invested in his career. you look at him with a fond smile on your face as he greets people.

"timothéeeee," you both hear and turn around to match the loud booming voice to a face.

"armieee!!" he yells in response, hurrying over to hug his co-star.

you stand idly by as the two hug and catch up. fiddling with your ponytail and the skirt of your dress. until that same voice catches your attention.

"bring it in hot stuff!"

"hey, armie! how've you been, handsome?" you two had only met a handful of times, but it's like your souls clicked instantly. he had kept in touch since the first time you met and you guys had been pretty close ever since.

"oh i’m doing great. really. just excited for this evening. can't wait to see how many awards lil' tim brings in," armie ends with a light laugh before timothée chimes in.

"oh god no-"

a cheery voice interrupts the conversation.

"helloooo," armie's wife says in a sing-song voice and joins his side. "nice to see you again, y/n. and congrats timmy on your nominations."

you and timothée nod in response and utter small, nervous 'thank you's' before armie excuses the two of them, promising to catch up later.

"well, well, well- this is it, timmy." you say from your seat next to him. the host reads the nominees for best breakthrough of the year, and timothée's name is mixed in with so many other talented actors. he nervously puts his hand over yours. "you are absolutely amazing. everyone knows that. you're gonna get it." he looks at you and you pass him a reassuring smile.

"and the award for best breakthrough goes to… timothée chalamet!"

his head shoots up in shock. cameras pan around him and his baffled expression appears on huge screens behind the stage. he slowly stands from his seat and makes his way to the stage. making a beautiful speech, thanking almost everyone he's ever known. giving gratitude to everyone he's ever worked with, his parents, and his best friends. he comes off the stage and returns to his seat beside you. a year runs down his cheek, and you move to wipe it away, but he grabs your hand away from his cheek only to press his lips to your knuckles. "thank you for always believing in me."

"you're an amazing actor and an even better friend.

the night was nearing an end. people were saying their goodbyes and their 'see-you-soon's and going their separate ways. you and timothée walk out of the event, arms linked, with his hands tightly gripping his award. the smile never leaves his face. "i can't fucking believe that, y/n."

"you did it, timmy! all you and your hard work. lemme pick a nice spot on your shelf for it yeah?"

"i was thinking about sitting it on my dresser right above the drawer full of your shit you keep leaving at my house," he says with a barely visible smirk.

"oh, well if it's such a problem," you begin "i guess I'll just have to come get my 'shit' then?" you finish sarcastically.

"oh! how dare you?" he begins to shout, going on a tirade similar to that of hamlet; overly dramatic and mostly nonsensical. "leave them be! small, small remnants; reminders of thee." he trails off softly, dropping his head to your shoulder and bringing his other hand up to trail his fingertips down the side of your face.

you can't help but chuckle at this. "bravo timothée! amazing performance."

he straightens up before taking a bow and returning to his previous position on your shoulder. "do you wanna skip the afterparty?"

"and do what, tim? i thought you were gonna catch up with armie?"

"i dunno- go to my place?"

you nod your head, and timothée let's the driver know to just go to his house.

you get out of the car in front of his apartment, quickly thank the driver, and dash inside; excited to remove the day. "can i shower?" you ask quickly already making your way upstairs.

"oui, mon trèsor, make yourself at home. ill be up in a while." it was almost as if he had it scripted. a routine more or less. you'd ask to shower - despite him telling you almost each time you never had to ask - and go up stairs to do so; him trailing along about an hour later behind you.

you finish your shower earlier than planned so you decide to lay on his bed until he comes up. you let your freshly washed body relish in the textures of the cotton t-shirt and shorts you're wearing and the damp-cool feel of the comforter on his bed.

you're not left alone for long before he darts up the stairs and into his room, catching your attention. you watch as he walks around, dropping various articles of his clothing haphazardly on his floor. left in only his boxers.

"timmy?" you ask in a drawn out voice.

"hm?" he asks lowly in response; his eyes trained on you. you don't respond to his muffled question and instead watch as he comes to lean over the foot of the bed, by your legs. "i've been thinking," he continues, "a lot recently. about us.."

"us?-"

"about what the media thinks we are. what the people say. the blog posts, the tweets. i read it all… what do you think about it, y/n?" he ends with a light sigh, making drawing light swirls on your leg.

"i dunno really. i've never thought much about it," you say sitting up.

he moves up from his place in front of the bed, crawling up to sit to the right of your legs. knees drawn up to his chest, eyes meeting yours. he raises his hand so his fingertips ghost the curve of your cheek. "you never think about.. the possibility of us?" he pauses as his eyes drift from yours. hands falling to his lap as he scoots even closer to you. you sit stunned, not knowing how to answer as if it was some rhetoric instead of a simple question. filling the silence, he continues. "i think about how different things would be if we were together. what it would be like to hold you and kiss you and- can i kiss you?"

his voice wavers as his eyes meet yours yet again. with quick movements, he moves to straddle your legs, both hands resting lightly on either side of your face.

"can i kiss you?" he asks again, his face millimeters from yours.

you shake your head yes as your eyes fluttering closed, your lips brushing against his as you move.

he plants his lips firmly on yours. innocent at first, but the kiss quickly gets deeper. more desperate, his hands moving from the sides of your face to tangle in your hair, pulling your head back giving him access to your neck. his lips dance around the skin of your neck, being careful not to leave any marks. “is this okay?” he whispers, dragging his hands from your hair to the hem of your shirt.

you nod your head vigorously and he pulls your shirt up and over your head, throwing it to the floor with his clothes. you lean back and give timothee free reign of your chest and stomach. he makes his way from your neck down and across your chest. your hands rush to knot in his hair as he takes a nipple in his mouth, carefully flicking his tongue across the hardening bud before doing the same to the other.

"timmy.." you breathe out as he leaves your chest and explores lower. his eyes meet yours as his teeth come into contact with the flimsy waistband of your sleep shorts. "please," you whisper.

he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your shorts and pulls them down your legs; eyes going wide when he sees you have nothing underneath.

"so pretty," he whispers almost to himself as he throws your shorts in his floor with the rest of your guys' clothes. he runs his finger along your slit, collecting some of your wetness, tasting it. laying back down with your legs over his shoulders, he hooks his arms around your thighs to keep you in place. he runs his tongue along your folds and you arch your back in response. he sucks on your clit making you squirm and tangle your fingers tighter in his hair, pushing against his face, eager for more.

"tim-... timmy," you beg.

timothée kisses his way back up your body. "hm?" he hums softly beside your ear only for you to utter another weak 'please' in response.

"please… please what, mon amour?"

"baise moi.." you didn't know much french. you had picked up on a few of timothée's most used phrases, but this you hadn't learned from him, so it caught him off-guard. stuck in a moment of shock. hearing you say something so dirty in french felt so strangely intimate; you didn't have to ask him twice.

he slips his boxers, finally accompanying you in nakedness, and slips into you, moaning at the feeling of you around him.

"fuck.. timmy-" you groan as he picks up his pace. he coos sweet nothings into your ear while drilling into your core.

his head drops to your chest and the soft, sweet praises slowly turn into obscenities. "merde," he groans, picking up his pace even more. holding himself at arms length above you, he throws his head back; lips parted in pure bliss.

you lift one of your hands to trail down timothée's torso. you lazily drag your fingertips across his chest and down to his stomach. the pleasure building inside you, your hand finds its way to your clit. “timmy... fuck! ple- please don’t stop. fuuuuuck!”

“défaire pour moi, y/n.” you didn’t think french could ever drive you to orgasm, but when it came from timothé anything was possible. you convulse around him as your wave of pleasure washes over you. timothée reaching his own peak soon after, pulling out and emptying on your stomach. he quickly finds something to clean you up with before plopping down on the bed beside you. many silent moments pass - nothing but heavy breaths leaving either of you - before he speaks up. “you know,” he begins in a soft whisper, “i felt bad- like i was using you. just to go to events with me. i know you don’t really like them but-”

you cut him off and turn to face him. “i might hate going to those award shows, but they’re a little less bad with you around.”

he breaks into a wide smile and pulls you closer, putting his head on your stomach. "mon amour, je t'ai toujours aimé." you reach down to play with his curls and begin to drift off on your way to sleep.

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supernaturallyobsessedchic · 3 years

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Emergency! Part 3

Summary: A woman comes back from her trip from Asia but isn’t feeling the best. And is rushed to the hospital. Her symptoms are that of the flue, but worse than. The virus spreads throughout the hospital, Jack falls ill collapsing in the break room. Dean falls ill on a rescue, Cas having to rescue the original victim and his partner. The reader, having to sit by and wait and pray for her friends pull through. But turns out the original patient with the virus got better, now her body has the antibodies to fight the virus.

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean x Nurse!Reader

Word Count: 4,262

Warnings: Scary Situations, Language, Mild Angst, Fluff.

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Mobile Masterlist

a/n: I could use the corona virus or COVID-19 but decided to use the virus used in the Emergency! Episode of the same name. The virus being a strain of the Asian flu during a bad outbreak in the late 60’s. Also the drugs and measure mentioned are probably not accurate, I’m not a pharmacist.

a/n2: D.O.N = Director of Nursing, DOA = Dead on Arrival, BP = Blood Pressure, O2 Sat = Oxygen Saturation

“Dean,” Cas says, walking into the fire stations garage.

Dean was logging supplies in the squad truck when he heard Cas enter and got his attention.

“What’s up Cas?”

“When you started dating Y/N, when did you know she was the one?”

“What do you mean?”

“I really like Meg, and when she was taking care of me after that accident of mine I found that she and I have a lot in common and I want to know her more?”

“Well, Cas, it’s different for other people. Just ask Meg out. Talk to her, find out stuff about her that she likes, hates, and if you can find yourself still able to love her despite her flaws. Keep it going. Keep taking her out.”

“You make it sound so simple.”

“Nothing in life is simple man.”

Cas nods in agreement.

The alarm sounded in the station.

“Squad 51, someone sick. Respond. 226 south Jasper’s Avenue, cross street South Walker boulevard.”

“Back at it again.” Cas says.

“Let’s hit it.”

Dean getting into his usual spot in the squad, revving the engine to life and heading to the location.

When they arrived, another station had arrived originally.

Dean and Cas gathered their tools and headed into the residence.

“Chuck, what do you got?” Cas asked.

“Kelly McMeyers, 22, her dad said she was fine at breakfast.”

They followed Fireman Chuck through the house to the girl’s bedroom to find her on her bed, sweating, pale and in obvious discomfort and pain.

Dean placed a hand on her head.

“She’s burning up, Cas, get the thermometer.”

Cas did as told handing the thermometer to Dean.

Dean placed in the girls mouth, under her tongue. Cas handing him the blood pressure cuff.

Dean began checking her Blood pressure.

“Get the radio, we need to tell the hospital.” Dean orders.

Cas, pulls out the radio of it’s holster on his belt.

“Rampart, this is rescue 51. Rampart this is rescue five one.” Cas radios in.

It was a normal slow day at the hospital, y/n having finished her charting, getting reading for her lunch break.

“Rampart this is rescue 51,” she heard Cas’s voice over the radio. “Rampart this is rescue Five one.”

She picks up the hand piece to the hospital’s radio to respond.

“Go ahead 51.”

“Rampart we have a female, Kelly McMeyers, 22 years of age.” Cas transmits.

“BP is 129 over 80, O2 Saturation is…”

Dean places a hand over her chest, watching it rise and fall. Counting in his head. But scolding with the low number he came up with.

“Did you pack the pulse Oximeter?”

“I did.” Cas says, handing it to him.

“I got to double check before I give you the wrong number.”

Dean turned on the device, and placing it on her finger.

“Still reading low, O2 Sat, 85.” Dean says.

“O2 sat is 85. Temperature is coming up…”

Dean pulls out the thermometer.”

“105.” He reads.

“Temperature is 105.”

y/n was shocked she had a temperature that high.

“51, standby, a doctor will be with you shortly.”

“10-4.”

“I just don’t understand, she was fine at breakfast, it happened so suddenly.” The girl’s father expressed.

“Some of these things do happen rather quickly.”

“Could be the Asian Flu?” Chuck suggests. Playing with the girl’s pet monkey.

“Well, let’s not jump to any conclusions until a doctor can see her.” Cas says.

“Kelly, sweetheart, can you hear me?” Dean asks.

The girl nods groggily.

“She’s really drowsy.” Cas mentions.

“Kelly, are you in any pain at all?” Dean asks.

“My head hurts, my chest hurts too.” She whines.

“She threw up a bit before you got here Winchester.” Chuck mentions.

“51, this is doctor Singer.”

“Rampart, we have new information, patient is experiencing head and chest pain, she’s drowsy and vomited a few times before we arrived.”

“Alright, start IV, lidocaine, two milligrams. And just in case what she has is contagious keep contact with the patient to an absolute minimum.”

“10-4 Rampart.” Cas says.

“I’ll get the IV going, if you want to get the ambulance here Chuck.”

“Already ahead of you, they should be here by now.”

Sirens are heard in the distance, as if on cue.

“How about that timing?” Cas says.

“Alright, she’s set, lets get her to the hospital.” Dean says.

Just as more paramedics came in, Dean grabbed the equipment as Cas walked out with the patient.

Chuck still petting the monkey.

“I love monkeys, bet he’d be a cute pet to have.” He says.

“Yeah, but they’re not meant to be pets Chuck.”

“Yeah, I know. But, cute little guy, isn’t he?”

The monkey sat on his pole that stood in the room. And the monkey started walking over to Dean, walking on his shoulder, messing with his hat.

“Hey, stop,” he told the monkey while trying to shake him off gently.

The monkey got back on his pole as Dean walked out to the squad.

At the hospital, Y/N, Doctor Singer assisted in the patient, Kelly McMeyer, as Doctor Singer preformed a spinal tap.

Just as he pulled out the needle, gathering spinal fluid, Doctor Kline walks in.

“What’d you got Bobby?”

“Possible strain of the flu, her symptoms are consistent with that of the Asian flu, but the incubation period is too fast. Her symptoms came up quick, she was fine at breakfast.”

“Do we know where she’s been lately?”

“All over southeast Asia, Kelly and her friends were part of her church’s mission trip in assisting kids in orphanages, and adoption homes. Fixing them up, helping kids get adopted. And her dad took her camping when she got back. Took her to the Black Hills in South Dakota.” y/n explained.

“That opens us up to a whole array of fevers, and of course flus. China is always riddled with noval viruses we’ve never seen nor dealt with. And of course, there’s ones we’ve dealt with her, rocky mountain spotted fever, lymes disease, or even parasitic infections. Fungal infections that could have originated from her camping trip.” Jack explained.

“Did Kelly have any kind of protection on either trip?” Jack asked.

“Her dad made sure she packed, bug spray, tick spray, and they had nets around their camp to prevent nats and other flying insects from getting in the tents.” Y/N says.

“So, in which case, we’re back to, what did she catch when she was in China. Because chances of her getting anything on the camping trip are slim I’m guessing.”

“Her dad was pretty adamant that they were covered for their trip. He didn’t want anyone getting sick.”

Jack nods.

“Let’s get some blood work, see if we can’t find the answer in there.”

“You got it doctor.” y/n says, getting her hands sanitized, and ready to draw some blood.

“Dean, your shift was done an hour ago, go home!” His father ordered.

“Just finishing up the logs for the day.”

“Cas can finish it up for you, he at least goes home in an hour. Now go.”

“Yes sir, you sure you got this man?” Dean asks.

“Dean, I got it. Go home and rest. See you in two days.”

Dean handed Cas the papers for logging their day, what all happened, their end result. He grabbed the keys to his Impala and drove on home.

He could tell he was exhausted. At a stop light he had to really will himself to stay awake just a few more miles.

But as he got to another stop light, he knew he was too tired to be driving.

Y/N’s apartment wasn’t far. He moved lanes before her street came up and Dean drove to her apartment. Giving her a call to make sure she was either up or home.

“Hey Handsome, how was your day?” she asked.

He could hear the background of the hospital.

“Exhausting. Are you still at work?”

“Yeah, another late one. Why? Are you in the area?” she asked. Sounding concerned.

“I’m really exhausted, and I don’t think I’m gonna make it home. I was thinking on crashing at your place.”

“You can stay there Dean; my key is by my hanging plant. I think your clothes from last time are still there.”

“Thanks baby, where would I be without you?”

“Dead in a ditch because you’ve run yourself ragged, now hurry to my place and get to bed. I’ll home when I can.”

“Love you sweetheart.” He says with a tired smile, pulling into her apartment complex.

“Love you more Winchester, sleep well.” She says.

He parked his car near where she parked. Walking up tiredly up to her apartment he found her key easily.

He headed inside, placing the key back but also locking up behind him as he got himself settled.

She had since gotten a new apartment since the plane crash; sure she was farther away from the hospital, but she was closer to him by several blocks.

He had gotten out of the shower, feeling a little bit better, but he climbed into his side in her bed. Pulling the covers over him, and falling fast asleep once his head hit the pillow.

She had hurried with her charting, her replacement nurse coming in late. But at least she showed up.

She hurried to her car to get on home.

She saw Dean’s car parked next to her spot on the street. She parked her car right behind his.

She quietly entered the apartment. Leaving the lights off she navigated to her room seeing his sleeping form in her bed. Sound asleep.

She made her shower quick and simple, washing off the stress of the day and relaxing enough so she could fall easily asleep.

She climbs into bed beside him. He tossed, turning towards her, wrapping his arms around her.

Poor dude was exhausted. But Dean was no fool, he loved being the little spoon. Maybe too much. But when it was her, he didn’t care too much.

Days followed, and the original patient began to go downhill. Her fever wasn’t breaking.

Y/N had finished getting Kelly’s vitals, updated her chart. She headed back out to the nurses station when she saw an ambulance dropping off a new patient.

“What do we have?” she asked.

“Fireman, Chuck Shirley. Stricken with a fever, 104 temp, slightly elevated BP.” One of the paramedics informed.

“He was fine at lunch time.” His wife said behind the paramedics.

“Are you his wife?” Y/N asked.

“I am, my name’s Becky.”

“Okay, I’ll escort you to the waiting room. I’ll keep you informed of your husbands situation.” y/n told her.

Becky nodded, and she was lead to the waiting room. Y/N walked back into one of the exam rooms.

Hours passed as the doctors looked over Chuck, they learned one thing in common.

He responded to Kelly McMeyers.

“I want everyone who responded to get checked out. Clearly we are up against something contagious.” Jack orders.

“I’ll get right on it.” y/n says.

As the day wore on, Y/N had called all the stations that responded, the ambulance and even called up her boyfriend personally.

“Afternoon beautiful.” Dean answers.

“Hey babe, you responded on the Kelly McMeyers right?”

“I did, me and Cas both, why?”

“Chuck Shirley is sick with the same symptoms as Kelly, and Dr. Kline has ordered you two to come in and get checked out.”

“Is it really that bad?”

“Dean, Chuck looked bad. Come in, please.” She practically whined.

“Okay, I will. Don’t worry sweetheart. I have to come down for supplies anyway, I’ll bring Cas along.”

“Thank you. See you soon.”

Just as Dean and Cas left the hospital after giving their blood samples to be checked for any virus or uprising in white blood cell count. Questions rose to how and where the original patient got sick.

“Whatever this Kelly chick has must be bad.” Dean says as he drove back to the station.

“Must be, if she didn’t get while camping then where?” Cas asks.

For a beat there was a pause.

“The same place where she got her pet monkey.” Cas says.

“You really think that monkey is the carrier?” Dean asks, unsure.

“Think about it Dean. It’s always animals in other countries that carry all these scary viruses. Swine flu came from pigs. Avian flu came from birds. The Asian flu came from, well, Asia but it was ducks. What if, this monkey one of those viruses and was somehow able to transmit it overseas?” Cas explained.

“You should really be a doctor something, damn Cas.” Dean says, impressed with the information Cas was able to share.

“Also think of the movie Outbreak.”

“Dude, that wasn’t even a real virus.”

“No, but it was a real situation that can really happen. It’s the worst case scenario. But it was a monkey carrying a mutated version of the virus.”

“I think you’re onto something Cas.” Dean says, digging around in his pockets.

“Here, call my girlfriend, tell her what you told me.”

“Okay.” Cas says.

“Hello?”

“Y/N, it’s Cas, you got a minute?”

“How’s Dean?” she asked concerned right away.

“Oh, he’s fine, we were just talking about the victims. She brought home a pet monkey from China. And Chuck was playing with it.”

“That is actually something Cas, thanks. Is there anything else we need to know?”

“Not really, but just for the fact that this monkey might carry a virus that could kill Kelly and our friend.”

“And you’re spot on, on that. I’ll tell Jack and Bobby. Thanks Cas.”

At the hospital, the two doctors were at the nurses station when Cas called. Their attention on her when she seemed surprised with the information he given her.

“Cas of squad 51 just told me Kelly brought home a pet monkey from China. And that Chuck played with it.”

“That’s something, Bobby, get someone to go with Kelly’s dad back to his house. Get the monkey and bring the little guy in.”

“You got it Jack.”

Cas had handed Dean his phone back.

“You know, Cas,” he says.

Cas doesn’t say anything but has his attention.

“I kind of played with the monkey too.”

The next following day, Kelly was slowly getting better. But Chuck was taking a turn for the worse. His fever wasn’t breaking.

Jack goes into Kelly’s room to talk to her about her monkey.

A nurse was already in the room taking care of her.

“Abaddon why aren’t you wearing your mask?”

“Oh, sorry Doctor its just—”

“No excuses, you’re taking an unnecessary risk. Not only would you be putting your life at risk, you’re putting everyone else’s lives at risk as well.”

With that she put her mask over her mouth and nose.

“Kelly,” Jack says.

She opened her eyes slowly giving the doctor his attention.

“We got your pet down in the lab. Now, was he ever sick when you had him?”

“Yes, just after I bought him. He had a bad cold, and threw up a bit too.”

“Well in order to help the fireman, and you as well, we may have to put him down so we can perform an autopsy.”

“No, you can’t!” she cried. “I don’t know what I’d do without Oreo!”

“Kelly, it’s the only chance we have at saving lives.”

The tears that built up in the girls eyes fell. Jack took his gloved finger by her cheek, brushing away the tears that fell.

“If you’re right about that,” she swallows thickly. “Then you can take Oreo.”

“Could help you too Kelly.” Abaddon says.

“I know.”

Jack gave a sad smile through his mask.

He doffed off his PPE by the door and left her room to give the go ahead.

“Dean, we have a group of kids from Jefferson Elementary School to come in for a tour, can you help Gabe clean up the garage real quick.”

“Dad, I’m really exhausted, can you get Cas to do it?”

“It’s not like you to complain, come on now. He’s busy with the logs, come on it won’t take long.”

The alarm sounded.

“Never mind.” John says.

“Station 51, medical emergency. At the top of the Wells Fargo bank at 5535 Woodland Boulevard. Cross street Jackson Avenue.”

The men and women at station 51 jumped into action.

At the location they climbed up the stairs after they reached the max floor the elevator would allow to go.

“What happened?” John asked one of the men working on the roof.

“Jimmy was over the edge cleaning the windows and he let out a yell, and I saw him collapse. I tried getting him on this thing but it’s jammed.”

“We’ll get him, we’ll hoist one of my paramedics down to get a line on him and we’ll bring him up.” John assured.

“I’ll go.” Dean says.

“Why don’t we just swing the lift through a window?” Cas asks.

“There wouldn’t be a safe way to do it. Just, get me down to him. Drop a line for him and he’ll be up here before you can say Bobs your uncle.” Dean says.

“Just be careful man.” Cas says.

“I will dude.”

Dean has the ropes around him, his harness, Gabe, Michael and Raphael anchored his rope as they helped lower him down.

“Okay, more slack!” Dean shouts as he got closer to the victim.

He got safely on to the lift and began to work the rope around the victim so they could lift him up.

But Dean’s vision began to spin. His hands came up to hold the support of the lift.

“Dean, you okay!?” Cas shouts from the ledge.

“Yeah!”

Dean hurries to get the rope around the victim and tries to work on tying the knot.

His dizziness got worse, and worse. Just as he was about to ask for help, Dean passes out.

His body falling off of the lift, and hangs by his harness off of the ledge.

“Try lifting him up a bit!” Cas ordered.

The three brothers tried pulling the rope slightly.

Cas could see Dean wasn’t getting any higher.

“No, stop, he’s tangled. I’m gonna have to head down there.” Cas says.

He heads over to Charlie who handed him some rope, getting the lopes around him, and working his harness on.

Cas hurries over the ledge.

Gabe, Michael, and Raphael tied Dean’s rope to hold him steady as they lowered Cas down to the lift.

“More slack!” Cas ordered as he got closer.

Cas removed his work gloves to check the victims pulse.

“He’s in full cardiac arrest!” Cas shouts out, communicating.

Cas finishes what Dean had going. Connecting the loops around the victims arms and legs making a makeshift harness.

“Okay, lift him up!” Cas calls out.

The victim slowly rising as Gab, Michael and Raphael pulled the rope lifting the victim up.

“Dean, can you hear me man?” Cas asked, trying to lift Dean onto the lift.

He didn’t respond. He was out cold.

Cas furrowed his brow as he grew concerned for his friend.

“Okay, lift him up!” Cas ordered.

Cas seen the original victim made it over the ledge safely. And Dean began to slowly rise up to the top.

Once everyone was safely up, they got Cas up as well.

Cas helped with the cardiac victim while Charlie and the others assisted with Dean.

Y/N sat at the nurses station charting her days work about ready to head home when an ambulance and squad approached the door.

She quickly typed up her report, saving it and sending it to her Director, she went to assist the paramedics.

Her heart dropped when she saw one of the patients being wheeled in.

“Dean.”

“Patient one was DOA, heart attack. Dean has a fever of 104.” Cas says.

“Okay, there’s an exam room open, lets get him in there. I’ll page Dr. Singer.”

“Where’s Jack?” Cas asked.

“He’s sick too. He was about to treat Kelly and Chuck when he collapsed. His fever is 103 and climbing.”

“How is Chuck?”

“Not doing well. Let’s focus on Dean please.” Y/N said, keeping the tears of fear at bay.

Dean was all settled in a room later that night.

“Y/N.” Bobby says as he entered Dean’s room.

“Dr. Singer.”

“Your director doesn’t want you treating him. It’s against ethics.”

“I know. I’m off the clock.”

“Then what are you still doing here?”

“Oh, forgive me for staying by my boyfriend’s side.”

“Y/N, you’re D.O.N is on the other side of the this door. Relax.” He whispered.

“Bobby, I can’t think straight right now. I want to stay by his side, if that’s alright.”

“You can’t just stop everything because he’s sick. The CDC got back to us on the virus, you know this. It’s a strain of the Asian flu, a newer mutated strain. We have a drug we can use.”

She sighs, rubbing her face hard, trying to not get frustrated with herself.

“I know. I just want to know he’s going to be okay is all.”

“You love him. I know. But you have to still live life. Because that don’t stop. You got to keep going kid.”

She nods. “I’m guessing I can’t stay with him due to isolation protocol.”

“You got it. but once he’s better, you can.” She nods again.

“Please, keep me in the loop with him.”

“I’m sure Meg will. Cas was already on her case about him.”

She chuckles with a nod.

“Go home and rest. He’ll still be here tomorrow.”

She nods, leaving with a slump in her shoulders. Heading to her car. Driving quietly home.

It wasn’t until she got out of her shower, and laid in her empty bed did she let her walls come crumbling down.

A sob escaped from her, shaking her to her core.

“God, Dean. Please be okay.” She sobbed.

The next day, she heads into work trying to focus on her patients.

She learned from one of the over night nurses that Chuck passed away.

Her anxiety already being high enough with her boyfriend being sick with the same virus, but the same virus that killed a fireman.

She headed up to Dean’s room where Meg walked out. Sweating after being in her PPE for some period of time.

“How is he?” she asks.

“Not good. His fever is not even breaking. He had the first 100 Milligrams of Idoxuridine.”

“Has it been two hours?”

“Close, it’s been about an hour and fifty minutes since last dose.”

“Give him another dose of it. Same for Jack if he’s not getting better.”

“Sure thing, I’m sure Bobby will understand.”

Y/N nodded as Meg went back inside to give Dean another dose of the drug.

Y/N headed back to the nurses station to chart her first half of the shift when her D.O.N approached the desk.

“Y/N, I was told you were by Dean’s room yet again. This time on the clock.”

“Sorry Jody, I just—”

“It’s okay, really. Bobby can be a hard ass sometimes, and I know I can be too. But my husband gets sick really easily. And I’d do the same thing you’re doing.” She says.

“Thank you…” she hesitates.

“I have your replacement coming in so you can see him and be with him. Once Donna gets here, go to him.”

“Thank you, thank you.” She says, as tears rise to the surface.

“It’s not a problem.” Jody smiles.

Days pass as the doctors and nursing staff cared for Dean and Jack for the virus.

Y/N stayed day and night, her D.O.N giving her the week off on FMLA.

She had lost track of the days when she finally allowed herself to sleep.

Kelly was fully recovered and the doctors and nursing staff encouraged her to donate some blood so they can use her antibodies in her blood to donate to Dean and Jack so they have a fighting chance.

His fever finally broke, he was getting better. She could close her eyes and he’d still be there.

She woke that night to a hand on her head, playing with her hair.

She stirred awake to find Dean awake and well.

“Hey.” She says tiredly.

“Hey.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been hit by a truck.” He answers. “Babe, did you stay here all day?”

“Dean, it’s been a week. You’ve been out for a week.”

“Damn…but still, you’ve been here all week?”

“Yes. You scared me.” She says. Taking his hand and placing it on her cheek.

His thumb brushing against her cheekbone. Catching a tear that fell.

“Well I’m sorry for scaring you. But you’re worrying me, did you take care of yourself while you were here?”

“Not really. Haven’t been hungry. I’m not sick or anything.”

“I know, you’ve told me that you’ll get this way. Either in a good way, like an innocent way of binging your favorite show and forgot to eat. Or in a bad way, like this.”

“Let me get Meg and tell her you’re awake.”

Just as she says that, Meg comes walking in.

“Jack’s awake…oh Dean’s awake too.” She says.

“Yeah, he is.” Y/N Says tiredly.

“I’ll get Dr. Singer so we can see when you can go home. And get Y/N to a bed, she hasn’t slept much since she stayed here.”

“Really, not eating or sleeping.”

“She was worked up. who could blame her?” Meg asked.

“True.”

Meg left the room to get Bobby.

Dean not saying a word, pulls Y/N’s arm guiding her in the bed with him.

She happily got in, curling into his side.

He felt a residual tremble shudder through her body.

“Shh, I’m here baby. I’m not going anywhere.” He says.

Not even a tiny virus would tear up this team.

A/N: Did you enjoy? How are you liking it so far? Favorites yet? Feedback is fuel and much appreciated. :3

Dean Girls:

@pandazombie69, @luci-in-trenchcoats, @supernatural-jackles, @becs-bunker, @winchesters-favorite-girl, @jayankles, @jeaniespiehs20, @mlovesstories, @akshi8278, @flamencodiva, @anotherspnfanfic, @megzdoodle, @lyarr24

Copying and reposting someone else’s content is plagiarism and illegal. This work is property of supernaturallyobsessedchic. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher. An electronic reference link to the original posted work may be provided for purposes of promotion or assistance of publication by the readers discretion, if proper credits are given to the author in the re-post. 3/23/2021

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strangeradventuresofp · 4 years

Text

second thoughts (legolas x reader)

The Fellowship of the Ring - Part 5

masterlist

warnings: character death, fighting

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5

a/n: hi my lovelies! first of all im so sorry about how long this has taken me, ive been struggling with writers block since the last chapter so i apologise if this chapter is a bit crap but i actually really like it? im proud of myself lol a n y w a y it might be a little while before the chapters regarding the events of the two towers comes out as i need to plan etc etc but anyway i hope you guys enjoy this chapter! i love you guys so much, thanks for sticking with me<3

It had been days since you had set out from Lothlorien and no one’s spirits were above average. Frodo seemed wary; Sam worried for his master. Boromir did not speak much, even to you, which was very odd. Legolas kept to himself, more than usual. Gimli was particularly talkative, probably to fill the dreaded silence. Aragorn had nothing of importance to say. Merry and Pippin chatted back and forth quietly. And you, you did not know a single way to heighten their – and your – spirits, so you stayed silent instead.

You journeyed from Lothlorien on boats down the Great River, Anduin. Sam and Frodo rode with Aragorn, Merry and Pippin with Boromir and you with Legolas and Gimli. Honestly, you could not remember how long it had been since you had left, only that it seemed like a lifetime.

At one point, whilst sailing down the river, the sound of marching caught your attention, your head whipping to the left, finding nothing but trees and foliage. “What’s wrong, lassie?” Gimli asked, noticing that something that captured your focus.

“I thought I heard something beyond the trees.” You declared, shrugging when no one else heard anything. Suddenly though, Legolas faced the same trees, and the two you of shared an inquisitive look.

Eventually, the nine of you reached a place that you certainly recognised. You sat up in the boat, gently calling Aragorn’s name to the boat beside you, before pointing. His eyes lit up as they met the huge stone statues. He tapped Frodo on the shoulder gently.

“The Argonath. Long have I desired the look upon the Kings of old: my kin.” His lips turned up at the sides. You turned around to catch Boromir’s eye, a smile on your face, one which he returned incredulously.

It was not long after that that you reached your destination, a small rocky piece of land that led into a forest, not far north of a waterfall. Legolas docked the boat, hopping out and offering you a hand to help you out which you gladly took with a smile. The two of you turned to help out Gimli, but your eyes wondered as you began to heave the dwarf from your boat. Looking at Boromir, you could easily tell that something was wrong. Despite the sun shining and the elven cloaks, he shivered and closed his eyes, a regrettable look on his face. He hesitated to get out of the boat. You made your way over to him, offering him your hand just as Legolas had done for you a minute before. He looked up at you, flashing a very weak smile before he took your hand. Although he took your hand, he used his own weight to help himself out of the boat, landing in front of you. He seemed pale and gaunt, traits that were unusual to say about him. Casually looking around his frame to catch his eye, you could tell that his face was angled to gaze upon Frodo. A treacherous thought crossed your mind and your heart ached in your chest for a quick moment.

Not knowing how long you were going to be there; Aragorn built a fire with the help of Merry and Pippin. After an hour or so, you were reaching the camp again with Merry, placing down the wood that you had just collected. You scanned the area, your eyes widening in horror. Merry seemed to notice the very same thing that you did, the two of your turning to Aragorn.

“Where’s Frodo?” Merry asked. A wave of horror seemed to wash over the remainder of the members of the Fellowship, save one, for Boromir was not at the camp either.

“Oh, no.”

“What? Y/N, what is it?” Aragorn questioned, coming closer to you, urgent for information.

“Boromir was acting strange when we docked. He was pale. He—He wouldn’t take his eyes from Frodo. I didn’t think anything of it; I thought maybe the boat had made him ill. Forgive me, I—I should have said something.” You sniffled, a few tears pooling in your eyes and Aragorn shook his head, squeezing your hand gently.

“No, you did not know. Everyone split up; we must find them. Save from Y/N, come with me.” Nodding quickly at Aragorn’s words, you plucked your knives from the ground and ran with him.

It was difficult to tell how long you had been running to find them, for the adrenaline had consumed your entire body. You could hear the thudding of your feet on the floor, but you could no longer feel them. The beating of your heart seemed to resonate in your ears and fill your senses, and your breath heaved in your chest.

You stopped for a moment, Aragorn following your lead. Faintly, you heard a thump and a grunt, as if someone had fell. You led Aragorn towards the sound, the two of you coming to a stone structure. You walked around it, his feet seeming to echo as the sole of his boot came into contact with a rock wedged into the ground.

“Frodo?” He called out. The hobbit lay on the floor frantically turned around, his eyes scanning the two of you.

“It has taken Boromir.” Frodo declared, the statement drawing a gasp from your throat, a tear or two streaming down your face.

“Where is the Ring?” Aragorn moved towards the terrified hobbit.

“Stay away!” He yelled, running away from him.

“Frodo.” Aragorn opened his arms in submission. “I swore to protect you.”

“Can you protect me from yourself?” Frodo opened his hand, the Ring sitting on his palm. “Would you destroy it?” Aragorn moved closer to him, kneeling in front of him. You stayed a few steps behind. He closed Frodo’s hand around the Ring, pushing it to his chest.

“I would have gone with you to the end.” You joined Aragorn, kneeling before Frodo, an apologetic look on your face. He looked between the two of you. “Into the very fires of Mordor.”

“I know.” He nodded gently, turning to you. “Look after the others, especially Sam. He will not understand.”

You nodded, a soft smile on your lips. “I promise.” You leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. As you pulled back, you looked behind, your eyes widening as the sound of treading feet filled your ears. You looked at Aragorn.

“Go, Frodo.” He unsheathed his sword, and you your knives. Frodo pulled on the hilt of his sword, his eyes growing wider as it glowed blue. “Run, run!”

“Now, Frodo!” You urged, eyes hardening as you turned away from him, walking with Aragorn to meet the fast-approaching, large group of Orcs. He raised his sword. Your knuckles whitened as you firmed your grip on the hilts of your knives. The two of you shared a subtle smirk as they approached.

An Orc swung towards you, but you skilfully dodged before plunging one of your knives into its fleshy side. Another moved towards you before you sliced its throat, driving your free weapon into its chest before kicking it away from you. You saw another making its way towards Aragorn from behind, and so you reached forward to cut its throat and push it into the ground. A sword was swung over a head, but you caught it, countering it before sticking each of your weapons into each of its eyes.

The sound of colliding swords filled your senses as you and Aragorn continued to fight the mass number of Orcs. The leader, whose face was stained with the white hand of Saruman, was grunting in displeasure before he yelled with an angry, gruff voice.

“Find the halfling!” He repeated, almost seeming like a chant, and many of the Orcs fled in the same direction that Frodo had gone, and suddenly your heart filled anxiety. You had scarce noticed Aragorn’s disappearance until he appeared again, jumping from the top of the stone structure into a group of Orcs, shouting ‘Elendil’ as he made contact with him. You let out a small laugh whilst you continued to slay the Orcs coming forth. Aragorn still had not been given the chance to stand, countering attacks while he was lay flat on his back. When you tried to get close to him to allow him to get up, much to your surprise, Legolas and Gimli emerged through the stone.

“Aragorn, go!” Legolas shouted, stabbing an Orc in the face with an arrow before using it to shoot the one behind. Aragorn noticed that you were busy and ran. Gimli hacked at the forthcoming Orcs with his axe, swinging it brutally over his shoulders to slash off limbs and pieces of flesh. You continued to cut and stab expertly through the thick skin of your enemies, eventually making your way towards Aragorn.

A certain Orc took you by complete surprise, swinging with a closed fist which you merely dodged. Overwhelmed by the shock, the delay caused you to barely counter the Orcs attack, pushing the blade of your knife against the ragged blade of the sword. It let out a growl and you a yell, forcing it back with all of your strength. As you blinked, you felt a small rush of wind pass by your face. You looked back to the Orc, an arrow protruding out from its face as it fell lifelessly to the floor. You took a sharp breath, giving Legolas a thankful nod and smile as Aragorn pushed the final body to the floor.

Suddenly from the distance, a horn blew, very familiar. In that moment, your heart sank. A bubbling filled your stomach, an urge coursing through your veins. Aragorn looked at you, as did Gimli and Legolas.

“The Horn of Gondor.” Legolas confirmed and you swallowed thickly, sprinting to the sound with all of your might. Aragorn followed close behind, cutting down the Orcs that managed to pass you. The urge was so strong in overtaking your body, that any Orc you saw filled you with an unexplainable rage. They would be lucky to be killed by Aragorn instead. You slaughtered all that came close to you, your vision turning red when the horn sounded again. With a roar, you lunged and jabbed and thrusted your knives at as many Orcs as you could. Your breath heaved from your chest.

You looked back at the others. “Hurry!” It was impossible to miss the terrified urgency that wrapped itself around your words and suffocated them. Even you heard it. And it was true; you were terrified. Terrified that you would not get to him in time. Terrified that he had called for your help and you would not show. Terrified that after everything he had done for you, that you would not be able to save him. You ran.

You ran over a little hill and your heart stung, as if you had been stabbed right in it with a morgul-blade. There was Boromir on his knees, arrows wedged into his body with the Orc leader standing over him, drawing an arrow that pointing right into his face.

“NO!” You cried with an intense vigour. Tears pooled and poured down your face as you ran toward the Orc, tackling him into the dirt. As you both stood, you used both of your knives to counter his blade. Your eyes were dark though they were streaming with wetness. It rumbled menacingly in your face and you kicked it away from your body, cutting through many pieces of flesh before it threw its shield, winding you. As you caught your breath, it stepped towards you and you yelled, driving your knives deep into its shoulder and thigh. It kicked you to the ground with an annoyed grunt, swinging its sword over its head to crash into the ground beside you, for you rolled out of the way. You crawled through its legs, grabbing it from behind and slitting its throat deeply, slowly. It pushed you back to the floor, once again raising its sword. But as it did so, a blade stuck out through its neck and its head rolled off its shoulders into the dirt. Behind the body was Aragorn, who helped you up quickly. You had no time to thank him before you ran towards Boromir, falling to your knees by his side.

“They took the little ones.” Boromir struggled, his breath getting sharper in his throat.

“Hush, now. Do not move.” You sniffled, your lip quivering at the sight of his paled face and bleeding body.

“Frodo. Where is Frodo?”

“I let Frodo go.” Aragorn admitted, his own voice trembling as it exited his mouth.

“Then you did what I could not. I tried to take the Ring from him.”

“No, that was not you.” Boromir cupped your face as you spoke. A series of sobs forced their way from your chest. You took his glove from his hand, placing it back against your cheek and placing your hand over the top of his.

“Forgive me. I did not see. I have failed you all.” You shook your head at his words, tears pouring from your eyes like a monsoon, so much so that you could not even speak.

“No, Boromir. You fought bravely. You have kept your honour.” Aragorn moved to remove an arrow from his chest, but Boromir grabbed his hand.

“Leave it! It is over. The world of Men will fall, and all will come to darkness, and my city to ruin.”

“No. No, I’m going to fix you. You’ll be okay, you’ll see. It will be like you said, the tower guard will—will take up the call.” He closed his eyes for a brief moment before opening them again slightly. He gave you a knowing look and you shook your head, hugging his body, sobbing heavily into his shoulder.

“I do not know what strength is in my blood, but I swear to you, I will not let the White City fall. Nor our people fail.” Aragorn put his arm around you.

“Our people.” Boromir smiled.

“Our people.” You repeated, sniffling. Boromir stretched out his hand, and you gently placed his sword in it. He held it to his chest for a moment before pushing it to yours.

“I want you to have it, if you would take it. Something to remember me by.”

“How could I ever forget you?” You cupped his cheek, his eyes filling with tears when he looked at you.

“You—You make me so proud - the daughter I never had. Look after her” He turned his gaze to Aragorn. “I would have followed you, my brother. My captain. My King.” He managed a small smile before he let out a breath. His final breath.

Your head shook in disbelief, your eyes filling persistently with tears, your heart aching profusely. Every time you blinked multiple new streams of salt water trickled themselves down your face. You could hear the pat of every tear falling onto the leather of his shirt, pierced by the arrows that were wedged deep into his chest. Aragorn held you as you wailed, your chest heaving up and down as sobs forced themselves from your throat and chest. His arms were strong but comforting. Tears fell from his own eyes as he held you, rocking gently with you in his arms whilst you cried into his shoulder.

Legolas watched from a little while away, his brows turned upwards in sorrow, his own heart hurting at the sight of you. When his eyes fell on Boromir, he swallowed dryly, hardly knowing what to do or say. He decided to stay silent, ears filled with the sounds of your tears and sniffles, paired with Aragorn’s low, reassuring mutters into your ear. Amongst your cries he could hear soft shushing and a sniffle that did not come from your frame.

You had no idea what to do. It was not easy to comprehend that your companion, the man who took up the role to raise you was now gone from the world. Your heart hardly hurt anymore, instead just throbbing with an incredible numbness, emptiness being the only thing to fill the void that you felt in your chest. Cold spread throughout your body as you looked upon his paled face, fiercely bubbling in your stomach in a way that made you feel as though you could spit fire, consumed by rage and sorrow – fighting to the death inside you. But you could not think about that right now. Not with Aragorn cupping your face, firm but gentle, moving you to look at him.

“Look at me. Look at me, Y/N.” You took his instruction. “He died with honour. That is what matters. He is at peace.” You merely managed to nod your head, since a stabbing sensation radiated through it when you moved. A hand on your shoulder. You looked up with a sniffle, to find Gimli kneeling beside the two of you on the ground, his own eyes teary from the scene. You placed one of your hands over his, and he cupped your joined hands in his other, squeezing gently before letting go and rubbing your shoulder. He did not have to say anything.

Aragorn helped you stand, stepping back to allow you to take a breath, before returning to the task at hand. You knew it was more important, and the others knew that you knew that, too. You turned, facing the three that you had been with since Rivendell, ridding your face of all tears with the back of your hand, sniffing.

“I do not want to leave him here; I would very much like to send him down the river if there is time.” You offered, not getting your hopes up as time was growing shorter. It would not be long before the Orcs found nothing on Merry and Pippin’s bodies and discarded of them, the only way they knew how.

“Of course, there is time, mellon nin.” Aragorn reassured.

“Anything you need, lassie.” A small smile grew on Gimli’s face and you returned it as best as you could. Aragorn noticed the conflicted look on Legolas’ face, and asked Gimli to help him move Boromir’s body back to the shore, where you had left the boats. Once the two had moved away from you and Legolas, you looked up at him, not missing the look that was present on his face either.

“Legolas, you need not say—” Your words were interrupted by strong arms scooping you up, pulling you gently against a warm chest. He engulfed you into a hug, your body fitting so perfectly against his own. All you could do was wrap your hands around his built torso, sighing as you pressed your cheek against his chest, matching your breathing with his heartbeat. The two of you stayed there for a while in each other’s arms, an intimate gesture between a pair of friends for comfort and reassurance.

~~~

It had not been long when you and Aragorn pushed the boat containing Boromir’s body down the river. His shield was above his head, his hands laying on his stomach, gripping his sword. In the end, you decided that you would not take it. You did not need anything to remember him by, only the memories that you had shared over the years. Also, the balance was never right for you, a fact that he also knew. There was no way that you would be able to keep a long sword simply as a memento. He knew it as well as you did. If anyone ever found him, you wanted them to know that he died with honour – Captain of the White Tower of Gondor. On his chest, latched to his clothing, was a brooch; a gift that he had given to you one day. You pressed a kiss to his forehead before you grabbed one side of the boat, hauling and pushing it down stream with the help of Aragorn. Your eyes wetted at the sight of the boat nearing the river, but with a side hug from Aragorn, a smile from Gimli and Legolas’ presence, you knew you were going to be okay.

Suddenly, Legolas grabbed a spare boat, rushing it toward the water. “Hurry! Frodo and Sam have reached the Eastern Shore.” He looked back, eyes flickering between you and Aragorn, and then Gimli. Aragorn sighed, before both of you looked over to the Eastern Shore, where you could barely make out the shape of two hobbits beyond the trees and moving further. The four of you shared a knowing look. “You mean not to follow them.”

“Frodo’s fate is no longer in our hands.” Aragorn said plainly. A look crossed Legolas’ face that you could not quite distinguish.

“Then it has all been in vain. The Fellowship has failed.”

“No, Gimli.” You denied, a small smile creeping across your face when Aragorn stood up beside you, reaching over to grasp the shoulders of the dwarf and the elf.

“Not if we hold true to each other.” Gimli placed his hand over the ranger’s arm, nodding slightly. You gave Legolas a smile, squeezing his hand gently. “We will not Merry and Pippin to torment and death. Not while we have strength left.” He abruptly turned tail, beginning to walk away into the forest.

“Leave all that can be spared behind. We travel light. Let’s hunt some Orc.” As Aragorn continued to stride through the sparse foliage, you, Gimli and Legolas shared a look. A smirk grew on all of your faces, Gimli shouting in approval before running to Aragorn. Legolas took your hand in his with a smile, his bow in the other. You gripped at his hand in response. The two of you ran with each other, joining with the others before you begun to trek what would be a chase that would be counted a marvel among the three kindreds.

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incorrect-hunterx-quotes · 4 years

Text

Update and story time:

I thought I would pass along an update to you guys. My sickness did not start off great. It started on Monday morning and very rapidly progressed by Tuesday afternoon. I was unable to eat or drink anything for 3 days because my throat was incredibly swollen. I couldnt even swallow my own spit so I would wake up every 5 minutes gagging, so I eventually stopped sleeping.

I went to Urgent Care and they gave me the diagnosis of incredibly Enlarged Tonsils and they gave me antibiotics and steroids to take to treat it. (This was on Tuesday night). The next morning I woke up and I couldn't talk. That is how swollen my throat became. I was no longer able to take my pills because they were too big. I was able to breathe, but it was hard. After a brief consult with a doctor he said to take the steroids immediately and go from there. (The steroids were the size of a literal crumb and it was still a struggle). He also said if it didn't help to go to the ER to get an IV bag because it had already been 2 days without food or water. I spent the rest of Wednesday literally hoping the steroids would kick in and help...they did not.

That night at around 2am I decided I wouldn't sleep because I was scared of gagging every 20 seconds. I spent the next 4hrs just curled in a ball against my desk on the floor spitting in a trashcan and listening to music to keep calm. (I'm am a 25yo male, over 6'3 and decently built, not scared of anything beyond Spiders and Heights, and I was a nervous wreck)

The next morning (Thursday) I heard my mother wake up and I went to her and begged her to take me to the ER. They took me immediately and quickly got me hydrated with an IV bag. Immediately I felt the effect and it was like I just woke up. I had energy, And I actually had color returning to me. I had lost 7/8 lbs at this point because I couldnt eat or drink.

They kept me in the ER the rest of the day and they gave me a 2nd IV bag and different steroids and antibiotics injected directly into my IV line. Within an hour I could speak. It wasnt that my throat was magically opened, but the one word I was able to say on Wednesday had magically became full sentences on Thursday, even if it was really low volume compared to my usual speaking voice.

They took the Big C-test (negative) and a CAT Scan later on, and that's where things got scary (-er). The CAT scan revealed that just beyond the enlarged tonsils was a 4-inch abscess, which would possibly mean surgery to deal with.

While surgery was unclear, I would need to be transferred to a different hospital 20 minutes away where they were better equipped to deal with my situation. I finally arrived at like 3am (Froday morning) and get all checked in. I get the routine blood draw and vitals stuff and then get told to relax while the specialist finished with his other patients. About 4:30am this guy comes in and was like "we're gonna take care of this right now." And I'm like "....what?"

So he was explaining that he could drain part of the abscess and then let antibiotics and steroids do the rest of it. It sounded like a good plan. I was already in better hands and I was on my way back to normal strength. So we agreed.... and that's when I quickly learned to hate this guy.

I warned him I have an incredibly strong gag reflex, and he said it wouldn't be an issue. He'd put lidocaine (a numbing agent) on my throat and tongue and itd be fine (it wasnt).

So now here I am at almost 5am, after being awake for almost 25 hours at this point, lying on my back with a bright light on my face, 2 nurses and the doctor on all sides and not enough nerves in the world to stop from shaking like a chihuahua on a massage chair in an earthquake. And not just little nervous shaking. They were powerful shakes.

It took one touch and my gag reflex was active. I was gagging the entire time. I threw up. I was screaming and crying. I accidentally bit the main doctor guy because he tried to keep my teeth open for the needle (I refused to apologize). I had such powerful shakes that my mother needed to hold my legs. She hasn't seen me this scared in 20 years when I used to have nightmares every night. And that was only after ONE OF THE TWO drains that needed to be done. I wanted to cry more and vomit and die. I couldnt do that again. But he insisted. I asked if there was a different way. There was no way I could be conscious for this again. I already knew I'd have nightmares from that (and I did last night). But he said there wasnt. So the 2 nurses and my mother braced me as I lay on the bench crying, shaking and gagging, with blood spit and pus coming out of my mouth, while this doctor finished the other draining. It was agonizing. I haven't been this scared in over 15 years. I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemies. It is like I was in one of those horror movies where a doctor just tortures patients. I wanted to cry and cry.

They soon told me I would be admitted to stay the night and that they would keep me on steroids and antibiotics overnight while they waited for things to improve. I felt asleep after being awake for 28 hours that night. The only thing on my mind was when I would have to drain the rest of the abscess.

When the doctor came in the morning to discuss what was up with the rest of the treatment he basically said "why didnt he put you on morphine or something?" ...I was speechless. So when I brought it up to the next one she said the same thing. As did the next 3... I could've avoided that trauma instead of having to do it like that.

So I ended up not needed to get the remaining abscess drained. The antibiotics and steroids they have had hooked me up to all day has been taking care of it. WITHOUT THE NEED FOR TRAUMA2.0!!! By noon I was drinking water on my own, I was even speaking louder. By 6pm i ate my first solid food since Monday nights dinner (Friday). By 8 I was on the phone with my friends talking like nothing had changed.

So I've been recovering steadily and rapidly. I should be able to leave and go home by tomorrow night. And then I'll be back at 100% shortly after.

I just wanted to thank you guys for all your messages and words of support that I've been getting these last few days, and to take a few minutes to explain what I've been dealing with these last few days. I want to thank you guys from the bottom of my heart for everything you've said. Truly, you guys and gals in this community mean the world to me.

Once I'm home I'll take a little time to get settled and we'll keep going as if this little "unplanned vacation' never happened. Take care and much love to everyone!!!

#not a quote #long reads #health #update

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skzsauce01 · 4 years

Text

In Fair Verona︱Chapter 4

Synopsis: Jisung knows he is the Romeo to your Juliet. He could wax poetry about you all throughout rehearsal and even a little after. Except Hwang Hyunjin is the one playing Romeo in the school play, not him. Jisung is just another tech crew member that you don’t know, but he’s determined to win your heart... by any means necessary.

Warning: none... yet

Word Count: 1.8k

Pairing: fem!reader x Jisung; fem!reader x Hyunjin

updates every Wednesday and Sunday @ 11 PM PST︱chapter list

Things that, to hear them told, have made me tremble—

And I will do it without fear or doubt,

To live an unstained wife to my sweet love.

Jisung feels exactly as Juliet does in Act IV; he, too, would suffer in order for his love for you to remain pure. Venomous snakes, giant bears, and even being buried alive sound fairly doable. Seeing you with Hyunjin is a different story, however. He’s not even in Act IV, but he insists on watching you from backstage. Yugyeom and Ryujin seem to have taken a liking to him, and Jisung wants to shout that Hwang Hyunjin isn’t all that great.

He has no evidence of that, but he just feels it in his heart.

In the spare minute you’re not performing or playing a “dead” body on stage, you’re waiting in the wings with Hyunjin by your side, praising you for your acting. You beam at his compliments and say, “It’s all because we practiced in class today.”

Hyunjin shares a class with you, drama most likely. Fantastic. Absolutely amazing. Jisung only sees you at rehearsal, but you’re both always preoccupied with other things, so he doesn’t even get to be with you that long. He feels a twinge of envy, and it grows when you seemingly allow Hyunjin to playfully tug at the sash around your waist.

He abruptly turns to Changbin and asks, “When do you think dinner’s going to be?”

"I don't know. After this act?"

"How many scenes are there?"

He flips through his binder. "Five. And we’re on the second one. Are you hungry already?”

“Just asking. Thanks.”

“Sure.”

Only a short distance away, Hyunjin gently turns you around and ties the loose sash back into a neat bow. He’s slow and methodical, and Jisung knows he’s doing so on purpose. Anger flares throughout his body, and he stares daggers at the back of Hyunjin’s head. You don’t look bothered though. You play with your fingers while quietly thanking him. Ryujin is nearby; she could have done it, Jisung bitterly thinks.

You nearly miss your cue because of Hyunjin’s antics and are forced to run on stage. Jisung feels a smug grin forming from his vindication, so he quickly tucks his nose into the collar of his shirt, pretending to be cold from the air conditioning.

“Hey, Jisung, right?”

“Yes,” he replies, slowly drawing out the ‘e.’ What does Hyunjin want with him?

He sits down on the coffin beside Jisung. “Well, Y/N said you were a big Shakespeare fan, and I was wondering if you could give me some advice on how to portray Romeo. Ms. Park’s advice isn’t really helping me, so I thought maybe yours would. Since, you know, you like Shakespeare’s plays.”

“S-sure.”

Should he give him good advice? Bad? It’s probably going to be all bad since he doesn’t really like Romeo, let alone Romeo and Juliet.

“Thanks. I don’t really know how to play Romeo. It’s really hard to be him when I know that he’s just a dumb, horny teenager.”

Jisung thinks that’s exactly what Hyunjin is, but he digresses. “Just pretend to be maddeningly in love with Juliet. That’s, like, the entire plot.”

He sighs. “I can’t say those things to Y/N. I physically can’t. Every time I do, I get red and embarrassed. When she looks at me, it’s even worse. You know how Romeo says Juliet is the sun? That’s exactly what Y/N is.”

A strangled noise leaves Jisung’s mouth. To his horror, he knows exactly what Hyunjin is describing.

“You get me, right? There’s just something about her.”

He doesn’t say anything, just stares at you on stage. You’re worrying about the sleeping draught actually being poison, but even anguish looks pretty on you. His own anguish is the opposite. His head hurts, his heart is erratic, his foot repeatedly taps the floor. Hyunjin looks over at Jisung, waiting expectantly for an answer.

“Jisung?”

“I can’t help you,” he blurts out, not looking at him. “There’s— there’s nothing helpful I can tell you if you can’t say those lines.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s true,” he sighs. “Thanks anyway.”

Hyunjin finally leaves him alone, but Jisung can’t bring himself to watch you as closely. He always had an inkling of a feeling that Hyunjin was interested in you, but he could never tell if he was flirting or just being Hyunjin. Now that he knows the truth, Hyunjin looks different, and you kind of do too. You’re less bright, while Hyunjin’s turning into a muddy gray color.

The rest of Act IV goes swimmingly, with only some redos. Just like Changbin predicted, dinner break starts when the act ends. Jisung chooses to walk to the convenience store with Chan and Jeongin even though he brought food from home. He doesn’t want to face Hyunjin or you after what he just learned. Jeongin asks about why he isn’t working lights like usual, and he makes up some excuse about wanting to work on homework during rehearsal.

You’re the real reason why.

“But you don’t even do homework. Ryujin says you just space out and stare off in the distance,” he protests.

“Things didn’t go as planned,” he shrugs. “Does anyone like doing homework?”

At the convenience store, Jisung hesitates in front of the chip aisle, thinking back to when Hyunjin gave you a bag. It only takes a few seconds for him to decide before he snatches two off the rack.

Jisung finishes his dinner of rice balls on the walk back, but he doesn’t start on his chips. Is it strange that he wants to share chips with you, just like how you did with Hyunjin? The activity was so mundane, but Jisung feels like that part is missing from his relationship with you. All you and him talk about is theater, but he’s never going to be more than your theater buddy if theater is the only thing you two have in common.

After dinner, the final act begins, and Jisung is unusually worried about the kiss scene, despite knowing that you are too shy to kiss for now. He rotates between sitting down on the prop bench and getting up for water he isn’t thirsty for. Hyunjin, instead, skips over it, and Jisung can breathe again. When Juliet wakes up from the sleeping draught, you’re supposed to kiss him before stabbing yourself with the dagger. As he expected and hoped, you skip over that step as well. His breathing slows and returns to a more reasonable pace.

The act ends with the Capulet and Montague families making peace with each other and deciding to erect golden statues of their dead children to memorialize the tragedy. There’s a few cries of disbelief and astonishment in the comms at such a stupid conclusion, and Jisung is one of them. He hates this play so much. You’re the only tolerable thing about it.

Ms. Park makes you and Hyunjin go over the death scenes again and reminds you that she expects real kisses before opening night. You and Hyunjin turn similar shades of red, while Jisung goes pale at the thought. Like nothing happened, she requests all the actors come in the auditorium to practice the curtain call. All of the tech crew gets a round of applause and cheering from the actors after, and the comms are filled with tech’s own cheers.

Because it’s Friday, rehearsal ends an hour earlier than normal. Tech notes are shorter than usual, especially when Mr. Gi reveals that he wants to go home to watch his favorite show. Jisung receives some praise for improving throughout the week, but the floor crew overall still need to tidy up some of the blackouts. Once he moves on to lights, Jisung tunes them out and discreetly scrolls through your Instagram throughout the rest of notes. You look very pretty in white.

“Good job, guys, and have a good weekend.”

That’s their cue to go home. The actors are already lining down the auditorium aisles to hand their mics to Chan. Jisung spots you behind Capulet, discussing alternative death scenes with Hyunjin. You’re standing right in front of him, so you have to tilt your head far back in order to look at him while talking. Hyunjin mimes stabbing you, and you double over, clutching your stomach in pretend pain. He fakes horror and drinks from an invisible vial. It’s like the two of you are in your own bubble, and Jisung’s watching through a window.

He gets up and decides to wait in the classroom. As he walks back up onto the stage, he can hear you and Hyunjin dying from laughter. He hits the main curtain particularly hard while making his way backstage. He still wants to give you the bag of chips, but Hyunjin seems to be keeping you from him. The classroom is mostly empty, and people occasionally come in to get their belongings and leave. You finally come in, and you’re back in your normal clothes. He wonders how you’re not freezing in shorts, but that’s not important right now. Hyunjin is nowhere in sight.

“Hey,” he calls.

You brush your bangs to the side before looking in his direction. “Hey.”

“Any chance you’re hungry? I bought an extra bag by accident,” he says, holding up a bag of chips.

You laugh, and his heart rate increases. “A lot of our conversations seem to be about food. I’m getting food after, but thanks anyway.” When Jisung visibly deflates, you ask, “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he lies. He stacks the bag on top of the other bag and rests his hand on top. “I don’t wanna give it to Jeongin. He’s probably going to ask once he sees I have two.”

“You could just eat both bags.”

“Maybe. I might also end up in the hospital for sodium poisoning though.”

You laugh again, and he turns pink with pride. However, the universe must be against him because Hyunjin appears in the door frame. You greet him with significantly more enthusiasm. Hyunjin collects his belongings, and his right hand twirls a car key. Jisung’s mouth starts forming a frown, and it deepens when Hyunjin says to you, “You ready?”

“Yeah.” You sling your backpack over your shoulder and pick up your textbook from the table. “See you Monday, Jisung.”

He says, “See you,” too late once again. With a huff of annoyance, he grabs his things and follows you two to the parking lot while staying a safe distance behind. Your textbook is now in Hyunjin’s hand, and you’re scrolling through something on your phone. He realizes with a start that you are reading off frozen yogurt flavors. When Hyunjin asks which flavor you’re going to get, you select strawberry cheesecake.

When Jisung is finally in his car, he turns up the volume on the radio and peels out of the parking lot, his hands gripping the steering wheel for dear life. In the passenger seat sits two bags of chips, unopened.

~ ad.gray

#stray kids #skz #han jisung #hwang hyunjin #stray kids han #stray kids hyunjin #stray kids au #theatre au #high school au #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids fanfiction #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz fanfic #stray kids x reader #slow burn #yandere #20200830

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suearthboundau · 4 years

Text

hey guys i know its been pretty quiet, so im posting to give u all a little update.

first of all, thank u for all the support and well-wishes. i really appreciate it in this difficult time.

secondly, ive been thinking about this story and how its delivered, and potentially there will be changes.

right now, i am posting this story as a comic 11 panels at a time. when i first started this blog, a comic was the format i chose (rather than fanfic) because i wanted to work on my drawing, i could easier match the show’s tone/storytelling style through visuals, i would be more likely to have a larger viewerbase, and because i already have a different “zircons on earth” au on ao3 with different characterisation/headcanons and didnt want confusion between the two.

when i first started, drawing an update was easy because i was so passionate about this project. i wouldnt even need a script sometimes because i had so many ideas, and i could get the sketches done in an hour and the digital done in another four. now, it takes me 4-5 hours just to do the script and sketches. i most likely have adhd, ive seen a doctor and im going to be tested soon, and when im not super passionate abt a project it can be completely impossible to focus on. sometimes ive had to split the sketching over two days because after a few hours of trying to work on it i could only get 3 panels done. its like i try to think and something blocks thoughts from forming, even though i usually know whatll happen in a page just figuring out how to script it is hard. after the sketching, the digital is another 4-5 hours, and while it was fun and quick-feeling once, now it’s something i really have to slog through, doing all the simplest panels first like im eating my potatoes before my brussel sprouts. the whole time i work, i feel stressed and frustrated and i want to be doing anything else. sometimes i end up staring at a wall for ten minutes because my brain is so unwilling to focus.

on top of that, a comic like mine moves at a glacial pace. if i keep posting 11 panels a week for a year from today, thatll be 612 panels. so far we’ve had over 100 and practically nothing has happened. it could take years to get through the whole story i had planned, and i dont want to work on this for years. when i started, i didnt realise my choices would make this such an undertaking. or i just assumed id always be passionate enough that it wouldnt feel like a chore.

an option ive considered is either partly or fully telling the story in writing instead. a single 2000 word chapter could bring six months worth of comic-told story, and take way less time. plus, im way way better at writing than drawing. however the problem is a single week’s update would take longer than drawing, because writing takes more effort and i hold myself to a higher standard with it. plus, writing gets less notes and noone will reblog it, and that mightnt seem like something i should care about but entertaining people is the only reason i keep working on this. so if i switched and my average notes dropped from 20 to 5 itd be disheartening.

another thought i had was just posting the dot-pointed story ideas i had and then ending the blog. the reasons i might do this:. im kind of losing my special interest in su. and my wrist issues keep recurring so i basically always am limited in how much i can write/draw each day, and i want to use my limited time to work on new story ideas im passionate to work on. also i have pretty bad depression to the point that i can really only set myself one big task every second day without feeling overwhelmed, and this blog can take up multiple of those slots since sometimes i have to split the work over 2-3 days. also, now that suf has been done for a while, the su fandom is less active and interaction is way down on my posts, indicating that i wont have an audience for much longer anyway. plus this is about the zircons and im pretty sure me and like 5 other ppl are the only ones posting/reblogging abt them anymore so theres no market for this idea. a reason i might not shut down the blog is that its personally disappointing to me to give up on a project i was once so excited to finish.

so yeah, let me know what u guys think.

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zrex-utau · 4 years

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Semi-hiatus

Hey guys! Sorry for this, but I'm gonna go on a bit of hiatus. I'll still be reblogging stuff and my inbox will still be open. However, I won't be drawing any serious art for awhile and at most just sketches and doodles if I do draw

I'm gonna try and add a "read more" to this post for those who do wanna know specifically why I'm going on hiatus. Just a slight tw though, it has to do with death and that sort of stuff. Just as a heads up

So, I've been on a semi-hiatus because a litter Dream (the dad) and Troublemaker (the mom) had passed away. Well, I was just about to think about getting back into full drawing, but then more stuff happened

Puffy (our 2nd pregnant cat) had her litter. We couldn't tell who the dad was due to them all looking like her, but we still assume it was Dream due to him constantly being around her and a few other things. Unfortunately.. she also had complications with her litter. As for Dream, he.. wasn't acting normal. His eyes were in different directions, he was limp when I picked him up, he wouldn't eat, he had breathing issues, and he didn't have the energy to do anything. We wanted to get him an emergency appointment last night, but it was just too much and we couldn't afford it; so, we had to wait till this morning. When we took him they said he was very dehydrated and had a gallbladder infection. They gave us medicine to deal with it and sent us off after getting some bloodwork done and giving him an IV

After I got home today, I left to go do something and decided to check up on him again a few hours later to see how he was doing and..... he had passed away... For anyone worried, the moms (Troublemaker and Puffy) and his brother Nightmare are all fine as far as we can tell

I kinda feel like I have to be transparent with some things because with stuff like possibly losing two litters of kittens (which we assume both were Dream's) and then also losing Dream himself... I'm not sure when I'll be posting art again. And I don't want people to assume me saying I'm going on a semi-hiatus means I'll just be gone 3-4 days, cause it's gonna be longer than that. Exactly how long? I don't know yet. Hopefully not too long. This will give me time to deal with the body and emotionally heal. I’ll still reblog and maybe post some doodles or sketches, but nothing serious for awhile. Love you guys

#death tw #tw death #mal chit chat #Sorry guys!!

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luckyspike · 5 years

Text

Eleventh Hour Admission - A Good Omens fanfiction

Hey guys remember when I talked about writing a hospital AU

i did it but no one is a doctor they’re all nurses

title refers to literally getting an admission during the eleventh hour of your shift, possibly a fate worse than death

CW: hospitals, medical procedures, automobile accidents, the joint commission

this will never be continued (probably) or posted to AO3, so enjoy it

Ari Fell liked it his job. That wasn’t sarcasm. He really, truly liked his job: he liked helping other people, he liked watching the sickest of the sick get well again and, when he couldn’t do that, he liked being there for them, trying to help them peacefully and painlessly move on. He liked meeting the families of his patients, he liked getting to know his patients when they could talk, and he liked that every day was a new day, something different and unknown and rife with opportunity to learn something new, or to help someone.

He liked his job, but he didn’t like 6am admissions.

Which, he had a feeling, was precisely why his ASCOM phone was going off at 5:55am. The caller ID informed him that it was Gabriel, the charge for tonight. He winced and the other nurse working the east pod with him tonight, Tracy, nodded sympathetically. He picked up the phone, and answered the call.

“Ari!” Yes. Yes, that was Gabriel. By the sound of it, he was in the cafeteria, likely having coffee with the other charges during their morning “bed meeting”. Ari had long since suspected that “bed meeting” was an excuse to get coffee and kvetch for the last hour of their shift, but he’d never really had the opportunity to find out, after he’d refused the offered charge position last year.

“Gabe.” He stared gloomily at the empty room before him. It had been empty all night, after he’d packed the last patient off to IMC to make room for a possible admit. He had known it was too good to be true, known with a sort of icy certainty that a quiet night would never last, and soon enough there would be some kind of admit rolling up. He’d hoped it wouldn’t be an hour before shift change but, well …

Maybe it would be an intubated pneumonia. Sedated, even. That would be nice.

“Got an ED trainwreck coming up. You heard them call that level 1 trauma, yeah?”

His heart dropped into his stomach, which dropped all the way to his Danskos. “Yes.”

“MVA, lady was flying and ran off the road into the orchard. Hit like three of the apple trees, Bee told me. Anyway, she’s a hot mess. I told them they could call report and bring her up any time.”

“I’ll need to stock the room -”

Gabriel ignored him. “I’d love to help get her settled but we’re gonna be in bed meeting until 6:30 and then I have to do the board for day shift, but I’m sure you and Tracy’ll have it in hand. Holler if you need anything!” The line went dead.

“What do you need?” Tracy asked, already half out of the pod, aimed toward the supply room. The supply room, Ari knew, where the housekeeper usually hung around this time of the morning, surreptitiously drinking instant-brew coffee behind the Pyxis.

Ari sighed. “A whole set-up. I don’t have report yet, but it’s a trauma. Probably need suction and the whole nine yards.” The ASCOM chirped again. “That’ll be report.”

“I’ll get some culture bottles and extra red tops as well.” He nodded to her as she vanished around the corner, and picked up the phone. “Ari Fell, ICU 4 East.”

“Ari!” He might have groaned. “It’s AJ!”

“Great. You’re calling report, I assume?”

“Well, yeah, but also I was just thinking I’m off for two days after this, and I don’t have any plans after my shift, was thinking about kegs and eggs at the place across the street. Care to join?”

“Somehow,” Ari said with rather more chill to his tone than usual, “I think I’ll be getting off my shift late.”

AJ laughed. “Oh, yeah. I’m bringing up the hot mess express.”

“Oh, boy.” He half-sighed, half-groaned. “I’m ready.”

“Right, patient’s still a Jane Doe but ID in her purse said Eve Smith, 22 years old, just waiting on family to confirm. Chaplain called her parents but no answer yet. Anyway, adult female, unrestrained driver in car-versus-tree MVA, GCS of 3 at the scene, flown here, went into SVT on the way but we’ve got her on amio now at 0.5mg/hr, pan-scan showed a left-sided pneumo -”

He rattled on, Ari jotting down notes as AJ moved through the systems. At least there was that: report from AJ was, usually, good, although he did like to linger on the gory details a little longer than necessary sometimes. If he was going to get a 6am admit, at least he’d have a good report to hand off to the next shift when he inevitably presented them with this hot disaster.

Tracy was back from the supply room, a suspicious damp spot on her scrub top. The navy blue shade hid the color of the spot, but if Ari had to guess, it would be the color of Svanka instant coffee. “Enough?” she asked, holding up two bags of supplies and a handful of lab tubes. He cupped a hand over the phone.

“Two straight poles and an IV pole,” he whispered. “And an EVD hookup for the monitor.”

“Gotcha.”

“Anyway,” AJ was saying, “she’s got a Foley, so you don’t have to worry about that, and, ah … Hm. Multiple lacerations and abrasions spread out all over, but no pressure wounds or anything otherwise. Right. Anything else you need?”

“Ah …” He looked at the report sheet, the notes about infusions and lines and testing left un-done, and shrugged. “You’re coming up with her, right?”

“Oh, yeah. It’ll be a miracle if she doesn’t crump on the way up. I’ll probably be bagging her when we get there.”

He grimaced. “Wonderful. I’ll have RT ready. Otherwise, uh … no, I think I should be alright. Whenever you’re ready, we’ve got the room stocked.”

“Okay.” A little distantly, as if he’d moved away from the receiver somewhat, he heard AJ call, “Hey, you ready Erica? Time to move!” And then, back into the phone. “See you in ten.”

Ari ended the call, placed a quick SOS to respiratory for a vent delivery, and tossed the ASCOM onto the desk. One last chance to check his other patient - a post-op heart cath they’d sent for access site observation overnight before planned discharge in the morning - and then he headed into the empty room, fussing around with the lines and waiting. The vent was there, already pre-programmed with the settings, blue screen glowing in the dark room as it waited. Tracy returned with the required equipment, and rolled a pole across the room, around the end of the bed, toward Ari.

“Disaster?”

“Complete train wreck.”

She patted his shoulder. “My two are primped and propped and ready for seven. I can help all you like, dear.” She was always nice like that, calling him ‘dear’. He supposed it made sense, given that Tracy was old enough to be his mother, but he had noticed she never used the term for anybody else. He’d never asked her about it, though, mostly because he was sort of afraid that if he pointed it out, she would stop.

“I think we just wait, now.”

“Fresh meat coming?” The gruff voice of the custodian drew their attention to the doorway. “I’m off duty at 6:30, so if you think I’ll be coming in here to clean up whatever mess you and those hideous interns make -”

“I’m sure your relief will have it well in-hand, Mr. S.” Tracy fluttered her eyelashes, and leaned across the bedside table, the front of her V-neck scrub top gaping open just enough to draw the housekeeper’s eyes. “You know, I was thinking of getting breakfast and coffee at The Pantry across the street after shift … been craving their waffles.” It was a statement, but it hung open like a question. Mr. S blushed a little.

“I … I’m a little hungry myself. Could go for a nice thick pat of scrapple.” He cleared his throat. At the far corner of the ICU, Ari heard the elevator - the direct-from-the-ED elevator - ding open, and the distant sound of alarms suffused through the early-morning bustle of the unit.

“Think they might have two seats at the breakfast bar?”

“Maybe.” He smiled a little, and then remembered himself and glowered. “If an educated woman’ll deign to eat with me, that is.”

“Mm, I think I might be able to bring myself to slum it this morning.” She waved a hand. “Here she comes, move over, there’s a love.”

And come she did, in a wail of alarms and machines and, Ari was both relieved and exasperated to see, AJ, who had, as long as Ari had known him, struggled with the concept of ‘reserved’. “Heyo, told you so!” AJ was, as promised, bagging the patient, his arm snaked between various lines and tubes, the critically-ill human attached to them almost so covered as to be invisible. “Ari.”

Ari looked at the lines, horrified, and then to AJ. “What happened?”

“Huh? Oh. She came back from radiology like this. Didn’t have time to untangle everything.”

“Nothing’s even labeled!” He waved his hands at the mess. “You’ve got fluids and pressors and is that blood? What’s going where?”

“Ah. All in the subclavian, I’d imagine.” The redhead added, with scathing sarcasm, “Pretty sure I didn’t hook anything up to the EVD. Got a slide board?”

Tracy had, and she and Ari tucked it under the unconscious young woman as AJ and Erica rolled her to the side. “Hang on, let me check her back while she’s there.” There were abrasions, and lacerations, too many to count or list as part of a specific area, and then, between her shoulder blades, was an apple blossom. He plucked it off. “Really, you couldn’t clean that off?”

“Had bigger fish to fry. You done?” AJ raised an eyebrow at him, visible of the rims of his dark-tinted glasses, and Ari nodded. AJ and Erica let the woman down. “On three -” She was light enough, and with four of them they had her slid into the ICU bed in one smooth motion, still piled with a tangled mess of lines and tubes.

“You really had to bring this mess up,” Ari griped, trying to decide where to start first. His eyes widened. “You left the EVD lying under her pillow!”

“It’s clamped!” AJ replied with an exasperated groan, gratefully flicking on the vent and plugging it into the ET tube.

Erica rolled her eyes. “You done here? I’ve got to get back to the department.”

“Be right behind you,” AJ said, waving the other nurse off. “I’m gonna help whiny here get organized.” He pulled the EVD from under the pillow, carefully threading the buritrol back through the other lines until the tubing lay neatly over the rest of the tangled mess. Carefully, he hung it on the straight pole, leveled it, and opened the clamp. Pink-tinged spinal fluid started to drip out. “Come on, hand me the cable, I’ll even hook it up for you.”

“How charitable,” Ari grumbled, tossing the cable behind the headboard and bouncing it off AJ’s shoulder. “Bastard.”

“Now, boys,” Tracy admonished from the foot of the bed, where she was busying herself with untangling the Foley and the SCDs*. “Let’s not argue.”

[* Are SCDs really that important in a fragile immediately post-trauma patient, you may ask. To which the answer is: only if the Joint Commission is there.]

“Oh, we’re just having a good time.” AJ was tracing the IV tubing containing the fluids down through the sheets. “Alright, so this is going to the peripheral, just untangle this -”

“You know,” Ari said, as he fiddled with the monitor and the arterial line, trying to check for level in spite of the level being, as always, conspicuously absent. “I’m sure you have patients back down in the department. You don’t have to help. I was just giving you a hard time.” He ended up seizing a length of blood pressure cuff tubing and eyeballing the line between the transducer and the phlebostatic axis.

“Well, what if I want to?” He snorted. “My only other patient down there is a kid with a head lac, and he’s on ice until the LET kicks in and we can do staples anyway. Which will be, fortunately, after shift change. He looks like a screamer.” He smirked at Ari, and passed the IV pump with all of the various central line tubing across the bed to him. “Never let it be said I’m not occasionally nice.”

“You’re not.”

“Hey.”

At the foot of the bed, Tracy shook her head, tapping in the vital signs as she did. “Did anyone page the fellow to let them know she’s arrived?”

“Not yet,” they replied, in unison. And then exchanged a look, very briefly, before Ari looked away to busy himself with setting the monitor alarm parameters and AJ became absorbed in scribbling labels for the IV tubing.

“I’ll do it, then.”

It was quiet for a minute while they worked, but after a time, Ari realized the white sheet atop the woman was clear, the lines were meticulously untangled and laid properly, with messily-written but legible labels. It would have done the Joint Commission proud.

“Think she still needed cultures,” AJ muttered, grabbing the bottles off of the counter. “Where do you keep the tourniquets up here?”

“Here.” He set to checking orders, with the black-clad invader from the ED pulled the first set of cultures on the first stick. Ari frowned, impressed. “Nice one.”

“Eh, you get good at ‘em when you have to get a line in anything.”

“Seriously,” Ari said, more quietly now, noting that for the most part, all of the ED orders had been cleaned up, taken care of, and signed off before the patient had arrived, “you can go. Really, I’m grateful, but I can handle it and you don’t have to -”

“I know. But this is really selfish for me.” He tore the tip of the index finger off the fresh pair of gloves he’d donned, the better to palpate a vein in the opposite arm, where the splint would allow. “Don’t wanna eat breakfast alone.”

Ari stared at him for a minute. Blinked. “Seriously?”

“Well, yeah,” AJ replied, tone flippant. “I think it counts as alcoholism if you drink alone too much. Have to keep up the facade of being a normal, healthy, functional adult.” He winked at Ari over the rim of his glasses. “You know how it goes, choir-boy.”

“I -” he glanced into the hallway, where Tracy and Mr. S were chatting. Mr. S had clocked out - was it past 6:30 already? And Tracy had her ASCOM in hand, although by the looks of it she hadn’t yet called. If she waited much longer, the fellow wouldn’t arrive with new orders until after shift change. He could have laughed. What an angel. “Yeah. Yeah, I do. You want to get a pitcher?”

Aj laughed, although he was watching intently as the second bottle filled. “You know, I have two days off coming up - what the hell? Let’s do it.”

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #good omens fanfic #human au #crowley #aziraphale #hospital au #i did it i did the thing #i wish i didn't enjoy fanfiction so much

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reeree1500 · 5 years

Text

The Return- Part Three

Okay y'all so here it is!! Part 3 of the Return series!!! Ivar and reader relationship developmentttttt💕 Hope you guys like itttt :) Lemme know if you guys wanna be tagged too. And don't kill meeeee pleaseee 😂

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 part 8 part 9 Part 10

Taglist: @yanii-the-hippie @oceans-daughter-3 @peaceisadirtyword @laketaj24 @amy8220 @cutegyrl927 @camatsuru @cindy-exo @cainismyname @affection-rabbit

Disclaimer: My sucky writing again. Bad grammar and spelling😂 Character death. And bad plot in general.

Your POV

Excitement. Thats all I could say I was feeling at the moment. To finally be back in Kattegat with my family was something I never thought would have happened again. After my father’s grand announcement of my return, the room overflowed with happiness. People were coming up to me, asking me where I had been for the past 6 years and how I had survived. Obviously, I tried to answer everyone’s questions to the best of my ability without giving too much information. For I still didn't know, the true reason as to why I had to leave or who wanted me gone.

The happiness in the hall however did not last very long. Aslaug, the woman who was questioning Bjorn earlier that night. Was actually my father’s wife. “Im sorry? She's your what now?!?!” Aslaug screams of sorrow over my existence could probably be heard all the way in Frankia. My father however, seemed to have very little interest in her reactions at all. He had cast her to the side as if she meant nothing to him. During the course of the next few hours neither my father nor Bjorn left my side. It was as if they thought something would occur to me if I was out of their side for more than a second. “Father, if it is alright with you I would like to go outside for some fresh air.” I tell him, whilst grasping his hand to truly catch his attention. Cupping my face he says “My sweet little girl, you may do anything you please. However, I would prefer that you do not stray too far from here, as I have just gotten you back. And I would not be able to handle losing you again.” With that he gives me a kiss on my forehead and sends me on my way.

However, I can still feel the overbearing presence of my older brother. “Bjorn, you know Im not gonna run away, if thats what you're afraid of.” I tell him whilst stepping outside. “Im not afraid of you running away. Im afraid of something happening to you (y/n). Plus worrying about you is my job, always has been.” Leaning on one of the wooden beams, I cant help but to stare up at the sky and hold my cross between my fingers. Thinking to myself how different life would have been if I had not left. “ Im only a few steps away shout if anything happens. Okay?” “Okay! And Bjorn... I love you.” At that Bjorn kisses my forehead and walks back inside.

Unbeknownst to me, a certain dark haired man was lurking in the shadows. “Awwww, If I had a heart I would think that was probably the sweetest reunion Ive ever seen.” Turning to the sound of that familiar voice, I see Ivar leaning on his crutch making his way towards me. “I never thought that I would have a sister. And a Christian one at that.” The way that his eyes scan over my body makes me feel a certain way that I cannot quite describe. And the way that his features are outlined by the moonlight really gives a sense of how handsome he is. “Wait, are you implying that...”

“Well, if all Christians are as slow as you I don't think we’ll have a problem conquering them.” A smirk is displayed on his face, while his eyes show a hint of deviance in them. “Why do you think that Bjorn and Ubbe look so much alike (y/n)?” “Or the fact that we all share similar traits like our eyes?” As Ivar continues to talk down to me as if I were a child, I start to connect the dots. Why it was that Bjorn and Ubbe look alike. The way that they all seem to share the same traits as my father. The four young men that Bjorn introduced me too, are actually my brothers.

With wide eyes I come to the realization that...“You’re my brother.” “Took you long enough.” At that Ivar seems to crack what looks like a genuine smile. “You know, I always thought that I was the youngest, but now that I'm not...” The genuine smile I had probably imagined was now a devious one. “ Now, baby sister. Why don't you and I go and sit down by those steps down there. And you can tell big brother Ivar, what you've been up to all this time?” Without being able to answer, Ivar grabs my hands and takes me towards the steps. Why do I feel like this night is just getting started...

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Ivar POV

Needless to say all of us were in shock to learn that (y/n) was our sister. Especially Hvitserk, who had not only been enchanted by her beauty, but was already planning how he would take her from Bjorn. I however, knew something was up the minute I saw her in the great hall. She had no scars whatsoever on her body, meaning she wasn't a shield-maiden. And absolutely no callouses on her fingers from when she took the ale, meaning she definitely wasn't a thrall. And Bjorn wouldn't cheat on Torvi, unless he wants his balls cut off. Something intrigued me about her instantly. It was if she had been sent to me by the Gods, her sharp tongue reminded me of mine. The way that she stood up for my mother not even knowing that she had caused Lagertha and Ragnar to break up amazed me. The way she handled herself with grace and dignity was exactly what I wanted. No, what I need for in a wife.

“Ivar, are you okay? You've been staring at me for the past 5 mins without saying a word.” (y/n) places her hand on my knee to draw my attention whilst looking straight into my eyes. “As a matter of fact, Im trying to piece together, how we’re the same age, and we never met before you left.” As she goes to lift her hand from my knee, something instinctively goes over me and I grab her and hold it were it was. The initial shock she and I both had at my actions soon subsided. She let her hand rest under mine. As if we had done this countless times before, our fingers intertwined and they in my eyes fit perfectly. I could see the inner turmoil inside her, on whether these small affectionate moments between us were something that was so wrong, but that felt so right.

It was not just moments ago that I had found out she was indeed my sister. Blood of my blood. But somehow, something in me told me that we were meant to be. I felt safe and strangely loved by this person in front of me, whom I have never met before. “You know Ivar, we lived on a farm. I was 100% certain that I would be a farm girl for the rest of my life. I was content with knowing that I would spend my life tending to the animals and my family. But, this is just too much.” Looking down at where our once intertwined hands were. I see that she is now staring at the ground playing with the ends of her long braided hair. “Why? Because you feel as if you're not good enough? Look at me for Odin’s sake! Im a cripple!” At that moment our eyes connected and I saw a reflection of myself in her. A scared child who was deprived of a normal childhood. Seeking for acceptance and love from anyone.

“(Y/n), come inside father wishes to speak to you.” Bjorn says coming out from the great hall ale in hand. Clearly drunk as well. “Sure thing, I’ll be there in a second.” As she goes to stand up (y/n) turns to me and kisses me on the cheek. “Thank you for the pep talk, big brother.”

I knew that I could not be the only one feeling this way. She had to have been feeling the same about me. And I will go to the ends of the world and face the God’s themselves if they think that for a second I will not make her mine.

Your POV

What had I just done! I kissed him whether it be on the cheek or not. I kissed Ivar. My brother. Oh lord, forgive me for these sinful thoughts are consuming me. The intense feeling I got from us holding hands and from when he stared into my eyes. I had felt at home. Felt safe, felt something that I should only be feeling for the man I should marry. Not my brother! As I enter the great hall, all eyes turn on me. Remembering what I had just talked to Ivar about, I keep my head up. I shouldn't be ashamed, or feel as if I'm less than I am.

As I make my way to my father through the crowd once he spots me his eyes light up immediately. Sitting on his thrown he extends his hand and makes me sit on the throne beside his. “My beautiful daughter are you feeling alright now?” He says to me a little louder as if to make sure that people know not to mess with me. “Y..yes father Im feeling much better.” I murmur to him. At that moment my eyes trail off as if to find something that would take me out of this position right now. I have never been one to be the centre of attention. And as much as I wanna believe in myself that I can be a good princess to my people, at the moment that is not going to happen. As I scan the room my eyes land on Hvitserk. He’s eating a piece of chicken las if it were his last meal ever. I cannot help, but to laugh at him and that when he notices. He flashes a smile that could certainly melt any lady’s heart. Without realizing I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and bit my lip. Biting my lip when Im nervous is something Ive always done.

However, what did not realize was Ivar eyeing me from behind him. At that I stop and stare at the ground. As the hours go by, finally the last person leaves the great hall. Leaving only my father and brothers with me. “Sooooo, where is (y/n) supposed to sleep, father?” Asks Ubbe. Coming from behind me Hvitserk puts his arm around my shoulders bringing me closer to his body. “She can sleep with me! I don't mind sharing my bed with her.” At this Ivar scoffs. “Of course you wouldn't, you wouldn’t mind sharing your bed with anything that has a pulse.” I tilt my head trying to figure out whatever he means by that. And all that can be heard is the snickering of my father.

“I was thinking that perhaps I could sleep with Bjorn. You know since we used to share a room when we were little...” I say wishing that what I feel most comfortable with could be taken into account. “I don't know about that one baby sis, you'd have to ask Torvi. She defiantly doesn't like sharing thats for sure.” as Ivar says this he smirks at me while taking bite out of his apple. “Who’s Torvi?” “Wait! Bjorn didn't tell you? He's married.”

At that moment a scream was heard throughout the town.

“Oh My God, Mira!!!!” at that moment I shot out of Hvitserk’s arms and ran as fast as I could. How could I have been so stupid that I left my friend by herself in an unknown place. Seeing the people gathered around Bjorn's cabin only made my heart more nervous. Pushing my way past the crowd I make it up the steps in one piece. But what I saw would forever haunt me. There on the floor lied my once best friend and most trusted subject Mira. And on her back was carved the death rune. All I remember is hitting the floor and watching a pair of worried and frantic electric blue eyes.

#vikings #vikings fandom #vikings fanfiction #vikings history channel #vikings ivar #ivar lothbrok #ivar's heathen army #ivar x reader #ivar #bjorn lothbrok #bjorn ironside #bjorn x reader #hvitserk #hvitserk x reader #ragnarsdottir #ragnar lothbrok #ragnar x lagertha #ask to tag

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lost-incident-kid · 4 years

Text

Happy Birthday Miyu Sugisaki (for tommorow) might do some art for her idk

———

Edit: ah heck! Ive had this queued for months, but i forgot to actually do the art haha, i’ll get something done overnight so it might be rushed and look like trash, it might look reasonably ok. Who knows at this point. I dont trust the sleepy version of myself to create anything good but hey, theyv created some stuff that wasn’t horrifying before :/

Ok, starting here i legit just start live-blogging myself staying up alnight drawing. Ignore me. I didnt know where else to say it. I’ll delete it later.

Edit 2: this isnt gonna be done. Like frick, i just spent 6 hours on miyu’s fricking hairstyle, thats all done and even shaded and looking fabulous but ive only got a rough lineart for litterally everything else. This might not be done, but if it is then her hair is gonna be a fuckign masterpiece (i hope). Im writing this edit at 1:42am, and im gonna go to bed somewhere between 4 and 5, lets go! Hell yeah! I might do this! Perhaps! Im gonna try! 3-4 sprint time! Yeah!

Edit 3: frick, im failing to do this, miserably. Its 3:03am and i got distracted playing mobile games and didn’t get anything done. My existence is futile, existentially im a waste and I should not exist. The atoms within me deserve to be part of something better. Sorry. I’m a f*ck up and unless I get my sh*t together in the next like 5 mins (unlikely) then this aint gonna be finished.

Edit 4: ok, meltdown like 20% over. Its 3:52am, I think the issue then was the face. Faces r hard bruh, they suck do draw. They a festive lil ho ho ho. I was drawing everything too high up on the face cuz my dumb *ss forgot to draw the line thingys on the face or even look at a reference image for proportions. Ive done it now amd life is now a bit more on track. Might get this done if I continue work in the morning.

Edit 4.5: nothin much (hence the .5), its 4:14am, just downed 4 cups o tea for caffeine and sugar (all the coffee we got is decaf lol). I’m gonna get this sh*t done! Ive litterally only coloured down to the face, neck and the hair but still.... I’m gonna get it done anyway! I dont care about going to bed between 4-5 anymore! I’m getting this done!

Edit 5: its less than ten mins later (4:22am) and im taking a quick 20m break to watch youtube while I wait for the caffeine to kick in because im too braindead to continue right now. Like what art style am i even trying? Idk... its really fricking complex tho. Lowkey pretty tho, like if i finish this im gonna be so proud of it like it looks great. But its taking forever and im need break.

Edit 6: ok we back. Its 4:41am, caffeine has not really kicked in but i cant permit myself any more time anyway. Back to drawning.

Edit 7: holy frick, new episode of the vrains dub came out. Man... im leaving vrains fanart to watch the vrains dub. Am I obsessed? Is this hyperfixation? Probably? Either way, its 4:50am and im going to go watch the new episode. I’ll come back to this when im done.

Edit 8: HOLY FRICK GUYS! THE DRAWING APP IM USING KEEPS CRASHING AND SAYS ITS STILL THERE BUT WONT LET ME CONTINUE AND KICKING ME OFF THE APP?!?! ITS 5:06AM AND THE PANIC ATTAC IS BACC! The new episode of the dub isnt completely out yet, im watching that version on yt where its just smol clips of it. Not all the clips r up yet. I was just going on it while waiting for the next clips to go up and thats when the app did the thing and life got 280% sucky-er.

Edit: 8.5 wahoot it stopped kicking me off the app and it let me continue. Its 5:12am and we are FINALLY continuing.

Edit 9: its 5:36 Im tired sleep time I’ll finis thos in the morning goodbye yall have a greatt day

Edit 10: ok, so im a failure. We live in the timeline that god abandoned. I cannot sleep. I shall get more cups of tea, watch yt until the caffeine actually kicks in, and then continue. Its 6:03 right now, I shall be back. Perhaps half an hour?

Edit 10.5: its 6:11am. Not much has happened, just a slight change of plans. Ik its irrelevant but im liveblogging so i gotta say, my eye hurts so im gonna stop looking at screens. Perhaps gonna try to sleep again, if not then i’ll put read a book, redo my makeup (it smudgey) or straight up just listen to music and stare into the void. Litterally anything other than look at my laptop/phone. Peace out homies, i’ll be back at some point before 7 probably (unless i do go to sleep).

Edit 11: Its 6:41am, my eye hurts. Ive been staring into the darkness and listening to various fallout boy songs. Now i feel edgy. Its been half an hour, so im gonna continue drawing. Caffeine and sugar has worn off again so im tired and unmotivated but yno what, it is what it is. Aint life nifty, i gotta get this done.

Edit 12: 6:52 everything burns im in pain my eye is on frickign fire and it looks bloodshot but now also weird azz headache that i never got one like this before so im gonna turn off all lights cuz that seems to make it marginally better am i dying probably idk either way im not gonna continue for multiple hours it is stare into the void time and stare into the void time alone ok this should be the last update

Edit 13: It is 3:16pm, didn’t continue liveblogging cuz i got one heck of a migrane. Im back and well... Happy birthday Miyu for today! I’m still gonna try to get this god forsaken art done, but holy shit what is that art style i did. Its genuinely nothing like anything ive done before, I don’t remember doing any of the colouring but apparently I did and it looks better than anything ive done before and idk if non-fricked up me can replicate it. I’m starting to wonder if i got bored and just copied it or something, like idk how i did it. Look at it

The grey is the lineart I remember doing but man tHE FRICKIGN HAIR like i couldnt have created that, could I? I can see why it was taking so long yesterday like holy shit man that stuff takes time yno

#long post

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misssarahlouise · 5 years

Text

6 months of radio silences...

6 months radio silents...

I had my Laser Ablation Surgery on February 21 2019. Me and my mom woke up early to get to the hospital. 5:45AM is when they would like you to be there, you get into a gown, get “fun” I IV (I’m used to it). I first talk to the neurosurgeon(s), the anesthesiologist, I get marked on my ear on the correct side of my brain that will have the surgery…ablating. This would be my 7th time doing this…at this point I'm not scared of having any surgery. So skip ahead to the OR, I’m relaxed most likely due to some medication, Dr. Spencer does a pre surgery pep talk speech, my favorite. The anesthesiologist said time to go to sleep and I went to sleep. A really long nap, 13 hour nap. They didn’t finish until 8 pm I was told.

They told me the week before when I signed the paperwork for the surgery said lots of things might happen, walk..clumsy...I could deal. Me, my sister And My mom all knew the risk Involved. But when I woke up I had complications that we had never thought I could have or would have foreseen.

Not in a million years. It’s like my brain deleted 50-70% memory. I only recognized a few people: Dr. Spencer (Neurosurgeon), Dr. Chiang(Neurosurgeon), Dr. Farooque(Neurologist), Louise(My Mom), and Spencer(My Dog). It felt like everything else was deleted. Gone. I was so Incredibly sad and Utterly confused. They did tests, with numbers, pictures, I had to draw a clock… And obviously I failed Miserably, which made me more sad and more confused. I didn't understand what was happening to me.

Eventually I got names of people that I knew are people that came into the room and then I forgot them again oh, but I was trying. My boyfriend's last name is Gibson, like the guitar, no relation. I forgot his name too, I knew I had a boyfriend oh, but I didn't remember his name, it had something to do with the guitar, so I called him guitar guy. Eventually I remembered his name, and I kept saying his name again and again and again. And eventually it stuck. I've been with Chris for eight years now and the fact that I had forgotten his name that tore me to shreds.

I couldn't believe that my brain had done that to me. Nurses and other doctors came in with flashcards and asked me what it was and I knew what the things in the cards were in my brain but I tried talking and nothing would come out or I stuttered. It was so irritating, I tried again. they came back the next day and the next day. Eventually I got more and more right some were similar were not correct but it was close. I said binoculars instead of glasses. It turns out I had partial aphasia. Do not ask Siri because it's depressing as hell, Google it, but even then it's still depressing as hell. Anyways eventually I was discharged.

Me and my mother went to Staples and got flashcards for the ABCs and 123. And we did it again and again and again and again. In the beginning I could only say three cards at most. I could say d for duck an R for ruble(Like Russian currency), and Ruble was not on the card it was a ring. So obviously I had a long way to go. Eventually I got all the cards. I still have trouble with numbers. I still change the she to he in sentences. Obviously I had to re-learn my ABCs so my texting and so forth was horrible so I took a vacation from all of my technology, thank God for emojis I did not know what I'd do without them!

Week after I got out of the hospital they sent me to Kessler Rehabilitation. I went from 1-4pm, Monday, Wednesday and Friday, it was tiring. I would do three types of therapies. At 4:30pm it’s nap time! 4-5 hour naps, can you blame me? My brain and body were shot. Sometimes I slur (a lot), and by the end of the day I just really don't want to talk because my brain is tired and it just wants to sleep cuz it's been working all day and it's tired.

On May 6th, I had my first cluster in months. Seizure free for 2-1/2 months. I was walking perfectly and talking pretty well. And that cluster set me back it felt like months. That's when my neurologist, neurosurgeon, me and my mom decided we are going to go to plan B.

I am going to go and have a neuropace implanted in my head. Yes, I know more brain surgery. I can't remember how many brain surgeries I’ve had? I've really lost count.

Anyway, on July 23rd, 2019 I had the neuropace implanted on the right side of my skull by Dr. Gerard At Yale New Haven Hospital in New Haven Connecticut where I've had all my brain surgeries. I was so scared I would wake up and have partial aphasia once again(might), I would have the pain in my arms which I always have having anesthesia for hours every time does that to me. I know I had to do the surgery we've tried everything else I've tried every other drug this is really my last ditch effort, so I prayed right before I fell asleep.

7 hours later I woke up from the anesthesia and I started talking. I didn't have any slurring or any problems. I just wouldn't stop talking I was so happy. I was so happy I almost started crying. The only thing is my head hurt but then again I had brain surgery.

_____________________________

At this time, at least I can walk straight, not look like a drunk which I did right after my surgery in February, talk monetary well most days unless I have a migraine then all bets are off. All in all I think I'm doing pretty well. Today I am still going to Kessler for Speech Therapy twice a week. It’s a huge. I still have trouble by the end of the day but my brain is tired. My brain is tired, worn out. Can you blame is? Four brain surgeries in one year.

Edited by Louise & Sarah Harris

#seizures #epilepsy #Laser Ablation Surgery #speech therapy #Expressive aphasia #more surgery #Dr. Gerard #Yale New Haven Hospital #Dr. Dennis Spencer

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derpyslurpy-da-derp-master · 5 years

Note

All the personal asks plz

Alrighty then!

1. Any scars?

Mhm, pretty much all the scars I have are burns. One is from burning the side of my arm on an iron my mom had standing upright that I brushed against trying to reach something on the counter behind it and I’ve got one or two other scars from my culinary class on my hands from trying to put a tray in the oven and bumping it on the rungs above the ones I was putting it on. I burnt my hand day one of actually cooking. Yes I’m a disaster.

2. Self harmed?

Absolutely not. One, I’m too scared of pain, and two, I have uh… An unpleasant history involving someone else threatening self harm to make me do what they wanted, so… It’s a really sore spot for me.

3. Crush?

I honestly have no idea.

4. Kissed anyone?

Nope

5. Coke or Pepsi?

Neither they make me physically ill

6. Someone you hate?

There’s a LOT of assholes at my school but the person I hate the most is probably my dad for reasons.

7. Best Friends?

Mhm! I’ve got a handful on this site but my IRL best friend is @theansweris-a. She doesn’t really get on tumblr anymore but if you’re reading this I love you friendo and have a good day! :D

8. Have you ever done alcohol or drugs?

hahaha fuCK NO. I’d rather not get addicted to something that can and will kill me and throw my money at people to sustain it. If someone offered me either I’d probably flip them off whilst slowly backing up and getting tf out of there because NO.

9. What’s your dream job?

Author/Illustrator with some VA work and Video Game directing on the side.

10. Ever been in love?

I have. It was with someone I didn’t have a chance with and who would be an absolutely awful lover to me since we weren’t compatible emotion-wise so I let it go. It was hard, but I did it.

11. Last time you cried?

Last Sunday trying to explain to my mom why our preacher and the church we go to has completely fallen out of my favor for it’s very loud blatant ‘LGBT people are bad abortion is evil insert other white conservative stuff here’ ‘cause she doesn’t know I’m LGBT+ (and it’s going to stay that way) and I was trying to explain to her why I would never say invite my LGBT friends to church because they would be mercilessly persecuted by people who call themselves followers of God then spit in his eye by doing the exact opposite of everything he’s asked of them. Yes I still feel really strongly about this.

12. Favorite color?

Cyan!

13. Height?

How coincidence, I just got it measured today! 5′6, FINALLY OFFICIALLY TALLER THEN MY MOM MUHAHAHAHAHA

14. Birthday?

November 17th!

15. Eye color?

Milk chocolately-brown

16. Hair color?

Dark brown

17. What do you love?

this is so open ended hjkfjfjkhgkjh okay then I love girls, video games, anime, writing, drawing, reading, and animals.

18. Obsession?

My top 3 in order of obsession; Kill La Kill, RWBY, and Kingdom Hearts.

19. If you had one wish, what would it be?

For every single illness, disease, syndrome, disorder, and so on to have a cure. From Cancer to Asthma. Both because I have so many incurable diseases/disorders and because I know there are people out there who have things so much worse than me in that department.

20. Do you love someone?

I love all my mutals, friends, and most of my family including extended family.

21. Kiss or hug?

I’ve never been kissed so I don’t know anything about how that would be so I’d say hug because I love hugs!

22. Nicknames people call you?

Derpy, Slurpy, D-Slur, Resident Cinnamon Roll (That’s my actual nickname on a Revue Starlight discord)

23. Favorite song?

this is like asking me to pick my favorite child uhhhhh… This Life Is Mine by Jeff Williams, it just means a lot to me.

24. Favorite band?

i know no bands by name

25. Worst thing that has ever happened to you?

….Okay, uh, this is gonna be really hard to decide because a LOT of bad things have happened to me. I’ll go with the more physical choice because I’d rather not dump too much of my emotional baggage onto yall. One time I was being prepped for surgery and they needed to get the IV in. (for the record I’m shaking pretty badly right now from thinking about this) They had to stab my arm with what they called a ‘Bee sting’ (it wasn’t a bee sting it goes almost down to the bone) that had numbing stuff in it and they were trying to find a vein they could put my IV in but they couldn’t find one (okay now i’m typing really fast so I don’t have to think about this for long) and they kept stabbing my arm over and over again. The thing is I have a serious phobia of needles that sends me into panic attacks, I’ll go lightheaded I’ll lose my hearing and so on. So I was trying to put a brave face on despite my parents not even being there but they would. not. stop. They didn’t give me a break. It was one stab then another then another then another. I was having a full blown panic attack, I was almost crying. Then they seemed to get it. They left me for a bit and my parents came in. My arm started swelling. They HADNT got it. My arm was being filled with whatever my IV was. They came back in with the beesting. They started stabbing me again but on the other arm. I couldn’t keep a brave face anymore after thinking they were finally done. I started to cry and sob and the panic attack I had that day was the single worst I have ever had. It got worse. They missed a vein entirely and instead hit a bundle of nerves. My hand started involuntarily twitching as pain unlike any I’ve ever felt before or until now wracked my arm. I had actual trauma from this, the night after the surgery I kept feeling ghost pains of the stabs in my arms, I had to sleep on my stomach with my arms wrapped around my front just to make them go away. I’m still extremely traumatized of this to this day. I never want to have surgery again. I never want an IV again.

Okay that got away from me there I’m sorry I kinda was having a panic attack while writing that. Anyways moving on.

26. Best thing that has ever happened to you?

This is gonna sound cheesy but meeting @theansweris-a. She’s the sweetest and kindest person I have ever met in my entire life and I feel so incredibly lucky to call her my friend, though knowing her she’ll see this and reply with ‘No U’ because we always end up in a shouting match of ‘YOU ARE A WONDERFUL HUMAN BEING’ ‘NO YOU’RE A WONDERFUL HUMAN BEING’

27. Something you would change about yourself?

I definitely would lose weight. Not because of societies bullshit but because I legitimately want to lose weight so I can actually get strong and build up some muscle, I WANT TO BE ABLE TO OPEN GATORADE BOTTLES GODDAMNIT

28. Ever dated someone?

Nope, I’m closeted and have no interest in even pretending I’m straight by dating a guy, I mean I know some genuinely nice guys (all of them dorks) but they’re all just my friends though they are massive goofballs and I love them very much. (Entirely platonically)

29. Worst mistake?

I… Don’t think you guys wanna know that. It’s nothing bad its just depressing and I don’t wanna be more depressing then I already have been.

30. Watch the movie or read the book?

Depends on which is better, like I’d rather watch the Chronicles of Narnia than read the books because the books are honestly terrible but I’d rather read Percy Jackson than watch the movie because the movies are incredibly unfaithful to the books.

31. Ever had a heartbreak?

Yeah…

32. Favorite show?

Kill La Kill!

33. Best day of your life?

My cheesiness never ceases but the first time I actually hung out with @theansweris-a IRL at the mall. I remember being SO excited for it but also nervous that how easily we talk to each other wouldn’t translate into real life and I remember spotting her walking up and practically shouting her name before running up and giving her a big ol’ hug whilst crying happy tears (I know i’m sappy shut up) and then when we were let loose to walk around we quickly discovered that we clicked almost immediately and incredibly well it was just the best thing ever. Like, in that one day alone we spent six hours in that mall just chatting and buying stuff and having fun and we left the mall with like three different inside jokes despite it being our first time meeting in person since we first met. Hi my name is Derpy and I’m a big ol’ sap.

34. Any talents?

I’m pretty good at writing, I can type really fast, and I can play the harmonica.

35. Do you wish you could ever start over?

Absolutely not. Things are the way they are for a reason, and even though I’ve been through a LOT it’s because of all that that I’m the person I am today and I wouldn’t trade that for the world.

36. Any bad habits?

Yeah, I’m a nail biter.

37. Ever had a near death experience?

Yes actually, when I was 3 or 4 we took a plane to California to visit some relatives and I almost walked out of the air hatch one the way out, I remember this vividly even though it was a long time ago. If it wasn’t for the flight attendant grabbing me before I fell out, I wouldn’t be here today.

38. Someone I can tell anything to?

@theansweris-a and @my-words-are-light, they’re both really good listeners and have helped me through a lot of stuff.

39. Ever lost a loved one?

My Great Grandpa Ritch died shortly after I was born, there’s a lot of pictures of him smiling and holding me while in a hospital bed and hooked up to oxygen.

40. Do you believe in love?

Oh absolutely, 100%. I mean if you know me you already know that I have just ABSURD amounts of love in my heart and I genuinely believe that it exists.

41. Someone you hate/Dislike?

Wasn’t this already a question?

42. Are you okay?

Mostly, yeah. I have some stuff to work on but I’m honestly at the best i’ve ever been!

43. Relationship status?

I’m a Single Pringle

#Ask #Original

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philipsrose-blog · 5 years

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Crazy 8 (Part 2)

When you reach the point where you slam the crazy fucking 8 life gets dark in a real hurry. It's like everything and one become subjects and suspects of insanity, mind fucking at its best.

Christian and I seemed to hit it off pretty good. We both slammed right away and got busy. I remember he couldn't fucking believe that I could slam a fucking crazy 8 and he wanted to try it but I made him wait, promising that I would admin him a ball that night or the next morning. What a fucking nightmare of a mother fucker that turned out to be. But we had some really great fun too.

It was Christian that worked that first colossal toy into me. But first I finally got to fist someone and it was beyond kinky amazing. God! when I was elbow deep and I twisted my arm he clamped up around me and we both shot all over the place.

But that night when I kept my promise he got totally psycho and I had to summon Philip to remove the problem and smash his equipment. I mean, there were pieces of it flying all over the fucking place. And you know, I actually felt bad for him until I found an ounce of Philip's private stock in his hoody. I mean, oh my God! That's fucking ghetto. You're invited over to party with an endless supply and you try to steal the host's private stock? Who the fuck does that? Needless to say, he was no longer a member of the grand Slammerz gang.

Now, there was a guy Philip had chatted on line witb. Joe Conway. Philip texts me that he had paid one of his best customers, this Joe Conway is outside and that I should just unlock the door and let him in because he wanted to party with me. I was so fucking sure it was gonna be some fat bastard, like Red. So I got dressed and started watching porn on my computer, ignoring the fat fuck. But then I looked up and the fucking Leo Biggie the twink fucking porn God was in our fucking living room. I could not believe is and quickly clicked on one of his videos I had downloaded. And oh my fucking God it was him.

When I jumped up to go in the living room he was standing there watching me with his classic grin.

A few minutes later he was admining me a huge slam. I have to tell you, that guy fucked me like I ain't never been fucked before. He showed me positions that my Philip and I would enjoy for a long time. He understood what no one else could when I opened up to him. And when Philip finally arrived it was one of the few times we had an actual threesome in our own bed.

To this day Leo Biggie and I still speak at least once a week. He turned out to be a friend that I could reach out to under the worst of circumstances, just to vent to.

But looking back the memories sometimes hurt. Philip and I began to argue. We were drifting apart.

I was going through almost 2 ounces a week between myself and my hookups and Philip was worried. I was out of fucking control. My mental health was in ruins and I was down to 129 pounds. I was dying right in front of him and it was killing him. The breaking point came when I was slamming 8 balls 3 times a day.. I had been awake for 11 days.

Lying on the bed expecting a slam I suddenly felt tired. "I just gave you 2 milagrams of adivan." Jesus fucking Christ! He had called my mother who in turn called the paramedics.Then suddenly I was asleep. And when I woke up 4 days later Philip was there with the nurse in the hospital holding me. He had cleaned me as I went to the bathroom in my sleep and had even awakened me to hydrate and feed me. I had no recollection of it at all. But I could see how worried he was. Then he asked me the unimaginable. "Will you marry me?" I was in total shock and I was screaming yes in my heart. But I knew I was using way too much to make a presentable bride for my Philip. He said he really wanted me to cut back. So, I agreed to slow down.

I still slammed it by the ball. But I cut back from every day to 3 times a week. And I did because, as they say, nothing lasts forever. But that didn't last for long because, again, as they say, nothing fucking lasts forever.

There was this one stray that I invited over, Sippie. He was another one that I hit it off with. And surprisingly he had no desire to do a crazy 8 with me. "Hell no! That would kill my pretty ass!" God I was glad to hear that. Finally someone who had a little common sense. Not that I didn't have any.

But after a while Sippie asked me if I could rinse off in the shower. It was so fucking embarrassing. I jumped up and headed straight in, not even letting the water get warm. Then, a few minutes later I heard it, the front door closing. I knew he'd left and I just rinsed off and dried myself off. But then, when I got out of the fucking bathroom I couldn't believe it. Philip's bottom draw was a little open and the brick he was selling that night was fucking gone. Immediately I jumped on the computer and shot a message to Sippie warning him who's product he had stolen.

"Yeah right! You're insane! What fucking guy would fuck your ugly ass, you nasty mother fucker!" His words wounded my soul. They cut deep like a fucking knife. And when I got up and looked at myself in the mirror,I knew it was the truth.

I ended up having to summon Philip and let him know exactly what had happened. He kept telling not to cry about it. He would find the guy and get his shit back. But then I told him that I wasn't gonna marry him and that I knew I was too ugly and way too fat for him and I hung up the phone and threw myself on the bed to have one of those epic cries that you never forget and soon after I fell asleep.

"Babe, what the fuck is happening? Don't you know what you mean to me?" I rolled over to see Philip. His eyes were beet red and his face was soaked with tears. But I was already convinced. I rolled over and told him what Sippie had told me and suddenly he was gone.

A few hours later he was back, looking as if something happened. But, most importantly, he was holding the fucking brick. "I wanna show you something." He held his cell phone in front of me and began playing a video. It was Sippie and Philip. A third person was holding the camera. Sippie was sitting on one of those redwood picnic benches in a wooded area with fucking duct tape over eyes. My Philip was standing in front of him in his underwear with an aluminum bat in his right hand.

"That's my fiance! Who the fuck do you think you are? I happen to love him and now he doesn't wanna marry me!"

Suddenly,the bat came crashing down on Sippie's head and he fell backwards letting out this blood curdling scream. And when Philip jumped over the fucking bench and hit him again he screamed again. Then, after like a minute of hitting Sippie with the bat the voice from behind the camera says "Uh. Bro you can stop. He's dead." And Philip turned to his right, looked at the camera, put the bloody bat on his shoulder and smiled.

My life is over. I fucking know it. Based on what events take place today tomorrow night not cone. I'm not going to appear in court on October 9th. I'm going to let Iv

an win. The son of a bitch beat me, my only crime being that I loved him and he never loved me. In the end you'll ass know what plays out. I'm no longer the only one involved on my end.

Oh my God you look great! I've never seen this side of you. "Well, I'm afraid to let people see me like this." But , what's wrong? Why are you crying? " I Burst out uncontrollably and he wrapped his arms around me? "Rose, where's Sally Pickles? What happened to Sally Pickles? " My knees buckled and he helped me to a bench.

Sitting there in High Bridge Park, I poured out my pain and he listened and wiped my tears away. And then he laid my head in his lap and I fell asleep.

Can you walk on the outside please as we walked along the trail. I'm safe when you're with me, like when you walk the outside I know you care. The other guy didn't care. Yeah, that fuckin guy kept saying, "Hey, I have no problem doing this for you. And any time you wanna come over and earn some of this I'd love to have ya. His name was Stephen and he was beautiful.

We had met at a Crystal Meth Anonymous meeting. A kind friend who can sometimes be incredibly tough, but with a kind heart had bought him there. From the beginning we were very attracted to each other.

We ended up sharing the night, an amazing night.

When I began to sob again he darted behind me and covered my eyes with his beautiful hands. "Trust me" he whispered in my ear and kissed it softy. Then he stopped me and turned me to my right. Telling me, "I want you to find strength and hope in this. Open your eyes."

It was fucking amazing! We were standing in the middle of High Bridge looking at the Manhattan skyline, lit up in all its glory. Nothing any person has ever done has meant so much to me!

And I won't lie and say that we we went back to his apartment to make love. Plain and simple, we went there to fuck, to fuck hard! And I have to say, It was the best sex I had had in fucking years! He slammed a gram and then slammed me a gram. "Surprise!" Oh my! It was a crazy fucking 8!

With every thrust waves of insanity and pleasure poured over me to the point where it was almost frightening! And I put on quite the show for him!

A week later the bitch, Tina, she took him. She's taking everything and everyone from me. I'm in fucking ruins!

My life is over. I fucking know it. Based on what events take place today, tomorrow I'm not going to appear in court I'm going to let Ivan win.

The son of a bitch beat me, my only crime being that I loved him and forbade him from knowing the bitch, Tina. But he never loved and left me that he might be with her, the bitch, Tina. In the end you'll know what plays out. I'm no longer the only one involved on my end.

It's almost queer how those that Ivan loathed, especially the social worker from The Door now run his life. Of a truth, I honestly believe that mother fucker was the same guy Ivan told me he made movies having sex with under aged boys with!

It's as though enemies, demons of the bitch, Tina, are working behind sober side of reality to pull me closer to her, closer to my end, closer to my Philip. It's all a clear blur in the night.

I'm the pitch, Ivan is Philip and he Ivan. All has become Ivan and I have become consumed to the point of my end in him.

I loved him and he took my life.

I have always been more of a believer in Old Testament rather than new.

With that in mind I may murder a man who seems to have disappeared with my shit, today, the shit I was going to use to fucking kill myself to escape this fucking torture!

This clueless dick head better come up with my shit or he is going to catch a beating today. I swear to mother fucking God I will hurt this mother fucker. I can't take this fucking pain Terry. Please come through with my shit! You mother fucker! Even my own fucking mother is not trying to stop me!

I have a mother unlike any mother ever to walk the earth. Knowing how I suffer she has agreed to let me go, the absolutely fucking hardest sacrifice a mother can make. Thus it should be known; For she loves me so that she has taken on the insufferable, that I might find peace in the sky with my Philip, his final words to me penned when we are together again we will dance across the sky with the clouds beneath our feet.

I don't really want to fucking die. But by the time this is read it may be in the best interests of many, rather than my personal need to be gone. "The needs of the many outweighing the need of this one." And don't think me very fucking noble about that! I have never had the fucking stomach for the violence that I know that I'm fucking capable of. I mean, Jesus fucking Christ I know how to build bombs, PIES so well you would be looking at them swearing they're not real.

But I have only one thing left in this life, my word. I took an oath on August 29th, 2002, never to use the tools this government taught me against this country. And for four reasons I will not break the oath 1, though he may hate me, an oath is before God, almighty, 2, my mother, 3, my dad, 4, I just don't have it in me to hurt people.

In closing this chapter:

My dearest Ivan

I truly and unconditionally love you and I am sorry that you could not love me. I take full responsibility for that.

I want you to know that what I enjoyed most about being your wife was serving you breakfast in bed and your love for blueberry pancakes. I wish I would have made them for you every fucking day.

I'm not sure if Philip will be waiting for me. If he is not I will wait for you and serve you breakfast in bed for all eternity if you want.

I never meant for you to be hurt. But the morning you answered your phone and said "Fuck off sicko" I knew you had found someone else and I began to die again, just as I did the day I watched you walk away from our meeting with Gustavo.

I knew in my heart you had given up on our love. I knew I would die that night and I did. For 2 minutes and 11 seconds I had peace away from the worst pain I have ever had to endure.

When they revived me the trauma doctor told me to find something more than what I was hurting over to fight for. I fought to stay alive for you because the moment you looked in my eyes at the alter I knew that I could never love anyone other than you again.

I knew you had given up on our love. But less than a week ago I found out that you never actually loved me.

Miss Gomez told me. She told me how the day you spoke with her and her supervisor privately you told them that you didn't love me and only needed benefits. She told me how you asked if you could get benefits on your own when you leave me.

You never planned on staying. But I still love and forgive you. And I want you to know something that may teach you a lesson in compassion and forgiveness. Sally Pickles has been stolen.

Because you could not turn the other cheek and have mercy on me the way I did when you showed up at my shelter I got arrested and the church where Tony used to work stole my Sally Pickles!

This is why I am taking my life. She was the only light left in my word but now she is gone, the light is gone, my hope is gone.

I want to let you know that I treated myself to a trip to The West Side Club and that I was so sad to hear that fored been there and that you were so high they almost had to dial 911

Please Ivan! I love you! Get help! Oh my God,I van! Don't be me! Don't become me!

In closing, thank you for the time we had. I shall remain faithful to only you.

I am and shall forever be your Rose

It's hard when you love someone and wanna fucking spend eternity with them as loathing mother fuckers do any and every God fucking dammed thing they can to ruin what they wish they had! At times realty can be just as evil of a mother fucker!

Lying there alone I begged God to find a way, And then, after a night of doubt, my Philip spoke

Do I wanna be with you forever? No one yes. I mean, you're slamming 8 balls all day and it scares me. It scares the fucking shit outta me. I've never seen any shit like this! You're driving me deeper behind the mask.

You know you're my Rose Petals and I love you and yes I wanna be you. But I need you to prove that I'm not your party ticket."

To prove his point in an almost cruel way, Philip his himself from me that afternoon. He left no note. He did not say goodbye. He left only 1 brick and then he was just gone.

Dear Vincent.

There comes a time in every woman's life when she must act for herself.

Joey has ruined out little family so I am taking your sister, Nina and abandoning you guys. I know you will go on to college and be fine. And I hope your father finally figures out what to do with your brother.

I have left you your bank book so you have a little nest egg

Love always your mom.

I was the one who found the note.

3 years later my boyfriend Brian took his life without saying goodbye.

5 years after that my boyfriend Stephen was shot in the head and killed. I never got to say goodbye.

15 years later my boyfriend John moved out while I was at work, never saying goodbye.

My dad was murdered by my stepmother years later. There was no goodbye.

Now Philip is gone, taken away from me .

After that I began slamming a even more crazy 8s a day.But then the eviction notice came. So I moved back to New York City.

Philip and I rekindled our love in September of 2018. And he actually asked me to marry him. But I said no, afraid of losing him and knowing that pain again. But eventually I said yes, on February 14th of 2019. But he took his life after learning that he had been indicted on February 19th.

Now I have lost Ivan and Sally Pickles. It's just too fucking much. I can't take this fucking pain.

My plan was to do a suicide slam this past Monday night. But this dirt bag mother fucking Terry stole my shit. So now I will have to rob a fucking bank so I can carry out my plan.

My friends are all telling me that has God hasn't turned his fucking back on me. Are they fucking blind?

I will keep writhing and may even film my suicide slam. It'll be an amazing show. I put on quite the show. Or at least I hope I still can.

If not I hope to at least make it interesting enough to captivate at least a few. I mean, hey, I used to put on a good show, quite a show!

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sangriatimes · 5 years

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Nintendo Switch saves Valentines Day

Can you believe that we are almost half-way done with January? Maybe it’s just me and the countless hours I put into reviewing the latest titles for the Nintendo Switch...which is our focus point that can change the tide if you hit a hard spot this V-Day. Maybe you don’t have enough money for that dinner, movie and gift. Maybe you thought that restaurant you made a reservation at is more expensive than you though. Maybe you just started a new relationship but you still have some awkward silences that seem to kill the mood. Whatever the situation may be a Nintendo Switch can get you to second base and home plate...trust me.

So let’s look at some of the titles for switch that are great to play with that special someone. (Games are listed in no particular order; games are not based on “)sales”; Games are mainly hidden gems)

1. Monopoly | 9.5 out of 10

Hear me out. I was one that grew up playing the original board game with my family and the overall appeal of the game was astounding, but I lost interest when I got older and noticed how long it takes to make everyone go bankrupt. ...but this is something...otherworldly. The first awesome thing you will notice when you pick up this title is the use of the Joy-Con controllers to shake the dice and throw them. Though this is still the same mechanic in spirit as its predecessor but with the newly animated boards populated by Mii’s and watching a living city grow as you play and add properties adds an entirely new respect for Money Bags. Our team lost track of time having so much fun with this one and before we knew it, we had seen 5 hours pass. (No one wants to play Monopoly for that long.)

2. Uno | 8.5 out of 10

Uno is another one of those games I grew up playing with family. When I purchased the game, I was expecting some sort of controller mechanic similar to Monopoly’s dice...but with cards instead...but I was let down. None the less, going into this, I didn’t even know that there were so many ways to play Uno besides the normal rules. Once again, I was amazed at how much more fun this was than the physical cards themselves. Rules like “Stacking. Where Player 1 can play a “Blue Draw 2″ card and Player 2 can counter play a “Draw 2″ card as well. ...but if Player 3 doesn’t possess a “Draw 2″ card, Player 3 then has to pick all 4 cards from the previous turns” was so exciting to try and there are many other ways to customize rules and play styles.

3. Super Smash Bros | 9.0 out of 10

I really don’t need to go into detail about this one. My only issue with the Smash series is I would really enjoy a multiplayer adventure mode or campaign. I was quite pleased with the full roster of characters though. Disclaimer: Make sure your partner isn’t a sore loser. We all know about SSB’s steep learning curve for beginners. “Don’t be a butt...”

4. Diablo 3 | 9.0 out of 10

I remember having this title on my old PS4 and being able to enjoy it on my PS Vita while I was in a relationship with someone who liked the game as much as I and we would both take our Vita’s to the restroom with us so we could keep the experience going. This title can definitely be used to understand the mindset your partner has by the way they customize their character and the actions they take in response to events. It’s a top-down action-adventure-role-playing-hack-n-slash (inhale.) It is a port of it’s original released on PS3 & 360...the price tag is still $59.99. That’s a deal breaker in my book.

5. NES Emulator | 7.5 out of 10

I honestly chose this one because of how many gamers I know and how 89% of them are males. This is something for those who don’t game to get their feet wet. The emulator is free on the eShop for a 7-day trial but comes with a subscription cost after. Pretty inexpensive for the titles they have. Legend of Zelda, Super Mario Bros, Metroid, and many more. It even comes with special versions of some of the games which gives the player the experience of playing with Game Genie cheats.

6. 99 Vidas | 7.0 out of 10

Your probably thinking, “ Why is this even listed?” Well, just in case that partner your with doesn’t dig the 8-bit look or the low-res adventures of the NES Emulator and desires a little more action and has a fetish for Streets of Rage and Beat ‘em Up’s. Simply. The available characters are cool enough to get players to find a favorite out of them. ...so...that’s good!

7. Oh Sir...The Hollywood Roast | 8.3 out of 10

After seeing the Samuel Jackson clone named “Bad MotherHugger” who’s personality is totally canon, I had to dig deeper. If you didn’t play the prequel, you don’t need to. I honestly only used the first title to learn how to play. In this installment, you and a co-star face off on a movie set where your scenario is to insult the other the worst. It plays like a fighting game, complete with health bars, special insults, tag team insults and so much more. For the price it is, I was expecting something way less entertaining. Oh, and one point or another you will joke against a Deadpool copy...a less funnier Deadpool but funny enough.

Consider this the American version of The Office.

8. Oh Sir...The Insult Simulator | 7.8 out of 10

Obviously, this is the European version of The Office. I won’t say this is better than the sequel and I can’t say it’s worse either but I will say “I am an American...” What this game does is teach you how to layer your jokes and how lay the foundation for repetition in your topics to create combo’ s. I like to let the opponent bombard me with little weak jokes and build a super mean and super long insult that grants victory for only one joke. I call it, “The Kamehameha Effect!”

9. No More Heroes: Travis Strikes Back

The third installment to the series hits the eShop and retailers in a few days and I am super excited to get my copy. If you aren’t familiar with the series, let me fill you in:

Travis Touchdown is the protagonist of all three games. In NMH1 we find Travis at his lowest moment in life. Jobless, hopeless and drunk, he runs into a mysterious woman who offers him employment with a sketchy syndicate group he knows nothing about. Luckily he had lost all his money by winning a bid at an online auction for a Beam Katana, his main choice of weaponry. Not long after, you find out you were hired as an assassin in a shady game by her higher-ups. Travis takes the job after being promised some passionate TLC if he can take out all 10 of the already top ranking assassins all over the world. Travis is a pretty simple guy. He likes mecha anime, luchador wrestling, old school video games, porn, sex, and sleeping on the toilet.

In NMH2, Travis finds out that after becoming the #1 ranking assassin in Santa Cruise, he finds out that he actually has hundreds of more assassins in a new ranking system where Travis is the lowest ranking.

This time around, Travis is joined by the father of one the assassins he killed in NMH1, and the co-op option is something that would have been outstanding to have in NMH2 but none the less the developers always deliver great content in their titles and this one will not disappoint. Couples will enjoy the kinky nature of the series for sure. It has been proven many times.

10. Broforce | 9.5 out of 10

Every wanted to play Super Mario Bros on NES but with guns? Ever want to change Mario for, let’s say...any huge action movie star from the 80′s, 90′s, 00′s? Ever wanted it to be a co-op experience with up to 4 players with local and online co-op? As a mercenary for the USA, you are sent to 3rd world contries to liberate them from the evil control of Satan and his hell spawn. Before that, you will have to fight through waves of kamikaze soldiers, war dogs, giant helicoptors, aliens (...from the movie “Aliens”) and much more. Along the way, you will recruit an entire cast of badasses. From Rambo to Robocop, you will find Chuck Norris, Neo, Blade, Bruce Willis, Terminator, Preditor, Machette, Michelle Rodrigez, The Bride (Kill Bill) & so many more including Mortal Kombats Raiden.

Very easy to pick up, very hard to put down.

11. Nidhogg 2 | 8.0 out of 10

2D-Side Scrolling Fighter. You start of with a sword. When you die, you respawn with a dagger. When you die, you respawn with a bow and arrow. Die again and respawn with an ax. Die again and respawn with your fist. This cycle will continue until you our your opponent makes it to the opposing end of the map. Maps are relatively small and consist of about 2 to 3 different frames. Sounds easy on paper right?

Tons of laughs to be had!

12. Tales Of Vesperia

If your looking for an in-depth RPG you both can play while she sits between your legs and you both focus on the Switch screen laying in front of you: this is for you two. The co-op system usually only functions when you enter battle. Player 1 will always be the one running around the world map but this is still fine if you keep an open-mind and communicate on decisions that impact the story and more. (Keep track of your own money.)

side-note: All Tales games are co-op in this sense, even the Super Nintendo picks.

13. Harvest Moon: Light of Hope

I’ve been a Harvest Moon fan since Super Nintendo and got my first copy on the N64. I know a lot of people see this game and hate the thought of a farming simulator but unlike it’s counterpart with the same name-sake; Harvest Moon is so much more. This can easily tame the craving for an adventure-rpg-dating sim with a very rich story and characters that actually grow on you. I have not had the chance to play this particular version yet, but I saw it was multiplayer and that sold me. If you want to try a good yet cheaper version, Harvest Moon: Back to Nature is by far, one of the best, next to Harvest Moon 64.

So there you have it, our picks of love for your love to love with their love! Honestly...I don’ t celebrate Valentines Day (poly-gang), but I love exposing partners to new things that they can enjoy together.

OUT!

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