#But seeing my bloodwork definitely freaked me out | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

zensations35 · 3 months

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how do you think specific marvel characters (specifically tony stark) would sneeze? like manner of sneezing and pre and post sneeze, etc etc -

or like how would they handle a cold or allergies?

any snzcanons really :)

GODS I LOVE MARVEL ASKS (*/ω＼*)

Ok, so, I showed this off a big in my fic Viral Paradox but I'll hash it out here too!

Tony:

EH FUCK IT. Unrestrained. "Idgaf who sees me sneeze" mindset (except maybe under certain circumstances?)

He might hold back when he's hiding illness, but honestly he probably doesn't do that much, as we see him going back and forth on screen hiding and being openly fucked up on screen. He's got issues and I think it's very situational how he'd handle sneeze or illness.

Definitely a wet sneezer tho 🤭And he'd 100% indulge our kink.

Bruce:

Kittenish. Ironic. And it makes everyone snort with restrained laughter. He gets embarrassed but has a (witty?) remark for anyone who has a snipe about it (usually Tony).

"You don't want to see me when I hulk sneeze."

Tony: "That's super gross, dude."

Bruce: *glare*

Natasha:

*sneezes*

Everyone stares in shock.

Nat: *glowers*

Suddenly everyone's phones all become so interesting.

Nat absolutely stifles. I'll talk about other stiflers, but there are two Main Stiflers on the list, and it's Natasha and Loki (I'll cover him later). These two are the ones who have that 'get it on lockdown dammit!' mindset where they can't bee seen as weak (very similar trauma and backgrounds of people who make them feel weak unless certain criteria are met). Viewing illness or sneezing in general weakness is TRACK for Nat.

Also she basically RUNS the Avenger household and while Tony thinks he could do it fine, Nat knows (and Bruce knows it to lol) that things would hit shit very quickly if Nat left it in his hands, so she just Needs to take a bunch of Dayquil and muscle through ok? It'll be fiiiiine.

(Bonus, she does have a backup plan just in case and it involves putting Pepper briefly in charge of Big Brain stuff --with everyone except Tony making superhero decisions 🤣)

Side Note: Y'all, I give Tony a lot of shit, but just know he's a top tier character for me. I know he's smart and capable. His character development is fucking PEAK. I absolutely would die for him. I just love picking on early Tony.

Cap:

Used to be very sickly; asthma, allergies, the works. He's constantly expecting things to set him off. Probably still has an inhaler (just in case!) But super serum means not much makes with the sniffles. The Avenger fam, however, doesn't know anything other than "Cap is super resilient haha!"

So, when he actually does sneeze, they all freak out OMG OMG IT'S A SUPERBUG™ !! All except Bucky, who i just...reading the paper all chill.

"Relax, yall. Steve's just..." and then he shares a look with Cap and a silent convo... 'are you alright?'

Bruce does bloodwork anyway.

Cap Part 2:

I also like this hc where Cap has been under the ice for so long Steve is photic?? Even though it's not canon I Desire it. Maybe to keep it 'consistent' (i mean, do I really NEED a reason but hufhufhu~) it could be early days only.

Lots of teary eyed squinting and hitching in bright lights, especially while he's being evaluated during the early days of ice recovery. Doctors were annoyed, having to pause their work for random sneezing.

As for snz sound, I image there's a P in there somewhere. Y'all know I like my Z's, but for Cap I think more of a "psh!" or something in that vein.

Thor:

Uhhh God of Thunder. Need I say more? SURE? A pic is worth a thousand words. And this commission says it all, really.

Loud. Booming really. A THUNDER GOD SNZ ECHOS and he's...proud of it. Ahahaha...oh he'll apologize. But yeah. He's fucking proud.

-> This guy can not do the sneeze while hiding scenario. Not...um...unless it ends with getting caught. And...zapped. Which, well, I am prone to writing. Sooooo~

Here's where I'm open to interpretation with Thor. I lean more torward him being a WHINLY LIL SHIT when he's sick, because (I read a few of the Loki/Thor Marvel canon novels because I'm a huge gd nerd) and as younguns it just REFLECTS the whole 'golden child' treatment and 'Thor ate that spaghetti so welll! Good job Thor!!' So I want to say...(and we do see this in the movies, especially early on) he expects special treatment. So, getting sick? *nods sagely*

Thor laying bonelessly across the bed: "You have to take care of me. Bring me <insert special food and drink specifically from Asgard>."

Random Avenger: "....you know I can't actually go there, right?"

Loki:

Magic ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Magic ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･fuckinggg Magic chaos sneezes bitches!! Break shit! Stop time! Shit flying around space! Opportunities are endless, really.

And Mr. 'Pardon Me' and 'My Deepest Apologies' definitely has a handkerchief thanks and it's not gross because he can clean it with said ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･MAGIC⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ so.

Our Dapper Asshole stifles because sneezing is weak and how !dare! a sneeze think about making him look weak--and if he has to he will discard it as quickly as possible.

So, as with Nat above, there's the trauma of being seen as weak from younger years in Asgard. I really wish we'd had a Loki prequel or something in the Marvel movies (there's still time Marvel!! *cough!!*) But in the official Loki novels, you can see it.

I would go into detail about this but when I tried to explain it I LITERALLY TYPED FIVE PARAGRAPHS MORE OF SHIT yall 🫣If you ever think I'm making up backstory for Thor or Loki, nahhh I farm my info organically, grass fed. Just trust me. He has major Misfit Syndrome (and as a fellow Misfit Child with a Golden sibling, I think I get their dialogue down better than most of my other writing tbh)

Ok, ahem, back to snz (sorry...) And of course when Loki gets sick his sneezes become less restrained and UnForTunaTelY he just can't stifle woe is him poor baby 👿

Maria:

Soft but firm snz.

I had a paintball partner once whose nose got itchy when he got stressed. I hc that for Maria. She's in a situation where she needs her gun out, and it never fails--her nose flares up.

Scrunching it, she dips into a grated, sometimes growled, half-stifle. Something quick. Eyes closed for the least amount of time possible. Efficiency is important.

Clint:

I know him the least unfortunately. He's not a fave (don't judge me 😭) I'm still wrecked that he was chosen over Nat, my darling momma who WAS RUNNING EVERYTHING AND NO WONDER EVERYTHING IS ABSOLUTE CHAOS RIGHT NOW WHAT DID I JUST SAY EARLIER (╯°□°)╯︵ ┻━┻

*straightens bowtie* Aaaanyway. I think Clint would get sick and hole up. Avoid people like a recluse. He'd have a messy sneeze and a tissue pile and just STOP cleaning up after himself.

"I'll get to that later. Fuck it." And when he feels better, finally, there are just takeout boxes, microwave dinners, and tissues piled up in a raccoon trash nest around the couch and he's like "...I deserve this."

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christyscancerjourney · 1 year

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Telling my family that I have cancer

Trying to figure out a way to tell everyone that means the most to me that I have cancer was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do. Especially my mom (who had end stage COPD), my stepdad, my kids, my friends and family. What and how was I going to tell them without breaking down and especially not knowing everything just yet. I still had scans, biopsy's, lab work, and so much more to get done before I even knew exactly what my treatment was going to persist of. I did know at the time that I wasn't going to tell my mom just yet because I wanted to know all of the facts before I told her because she would worry too much and I wanted to be able to answer all the questions that she would ask. I did tell my kids (which they handled it pretty well and have been very supportive), my stepdad (which I asked him not to tell my mom yet) my friends and family. It was easier than I thought t would be. Everyone was very supportive and really stepped up to be there for me.

The next step was going to my first appointment which included seeing the breast surgeon to get me in the door to see an oncologist. scans and bloodwork. Getting the basic rundown of how my life was going to go for a while. When i got my first scans to check out my neck and breast, I was on my way home from appointment when I got a call that they needed me to come back because I needed another scan because something was seen in my lung. Let me tell you I broke down in tears. Like it wasn't enough that i have caner in my breast and neck and now I might have it in my lung as well. I had to trust the process. Had to trust these nurses and doctors that I didn't even know yet. So I turned my car around and drove back to doctors' office for more scans. I was on the phone with my mom trying not to cry and reassuring her that everything was ok and they just wanted to check things out more. See I was going to go see her to tell her what was going on but didn't because they had found another spot. I then set up more appointments for biopsies on my lung and also my neck. That next week I had the biopsies done and let me tell you it was no walk in the park. They did them both in the same day and everything was ok until I coughed. I couldn't catch my breath, but they told me that could happen, so I just kept going. Just chalked it up as a side effect from biopsy and it would get better. It didn't. I was new to this journey, so I didn't know what to report to the doctors or what was normal and not normal just quite yet. The next week I got a call from my nurse telling me to be prepared to check myself into the hospital for my first chemo treatment because it would have to be inpatient because insurance was fighting the treatment plan. Let me tell you when i say i have the most amazing team of doctors that is what I mean. They go above and beyond for me and making sure that I get everything I need. When I got the call to go check myself in, I was still having a difficult time breathing so they ordered me an Xray which showed that my lung has partially collapsed from the biopsy that I had had the week prior. I got woke up at 4 in the morning to take me down to have a chest tube placed. I freaked out because I have watched so many medical shows and what you see on there isn't what I got. My chest tube was the size of an IV tube so it wasn't that bad or uncomfortable at all. Not saying that that's what everyone will get just saying that I was freaked out thinking about getting a huge tube in my lung. It was definitely a huge relief when it came to taking a breath. I had to wait all day the following day to start my chemo treatment because they had to get the right dose prepared for me as well as the iv placed right. I hadn't got my port placed yet because they wanted to start my chemotherapy right away. Insurance also fought the idea of me getting immunotherapy so that was placed on hold as well. Again, my doctor came through and made sure I was getting the best treatment possible, she made it happen just took a few days to get it after my first chemotherapy. I cant express how important it is to have doctors and nurses that make you feel comfortable and listen to you. You have a voice and an opinion in every step of your treatment. My team is amazing. They listen to me, they let me ask questions, they are the ones that see me cry if i get nervous about something, they understand that I don't look at my scans through the my chart because I'm not a doctor and I don't understand some of the things that are on there so its best to just let them tell me what i need to know. They have been there for me throughout everything cancer has thrown out there to me. My radiation doctor is my favorite doctor because she likes to listen to everything going on in my life. The very first time I met her was about an hour after one of my granddaughters were born.

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procrastinatingsab · 4 years

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Chapter 2 of Trapped is up! please let me know what you think ;3

Summary: A woman disappears. She shows up two days after her husband reports her missing, gives no explanation of what happened and takes her own life the next day. Is she the only victim? Is it really suicide? And what happened when she went missing? Bright and the team investigate the mystery, and Malcolm finds himself in danger yet again. Will he come out unscathed?

AO3

Read Below.

Additional Tags: Implied/Referenced Suicide, PTSD, Claustrophobia, Panic Attack, Kidnapping, Implied Brightwell

note: This chapter has mentions of suicide, nothing is explicitly described, but please be warned. Note: I am sorry in advance if any of my medical knowledge or drugs is unrealistic. I just had an idea and I am rolling with it.

Chapter Two: Edrisa Brings in a Case

It was a good day. He navigated the streets of New York City with ease. His footsteps were happy, bouncy even. And why wouldn’t they be? There is a Case Afterall!

And nothing makes him happier. It’s not like he enjoys murders.

No.

He just likes to catch killers, bring them to justice. He wants to protect his family and his community. He's told John Watkins that already. He also admits that it keeps his mind off things. Keeps things at bay. It's also a good challenge, a euphoric experience. Almost like ecstasy. That all he admits.

But what he fails to admit is that he feels it's his personal mission to atone for what Dr. Martin Whitly has done. The pain he has imposed on the world. The wounds he inflicted. Wounds that did not only affect the victims and their families but also his mother, his sister, and himself. Wounds that cannot heal. Wounds that continue to bleed twenty years later.

No.

He does not admit any of this. Because this thought redeems him, makes him a good person. Like some good Samaritan who saw the world was suffering and decided to help. But he knows he's none of that. "We are the same." He is not a good person. He's just to blame for what his father did. He is not any better. He is broken.

Yes.

He's serving his penance. Atoning for those sins, he somehow feels responsible for. And even though he can't seem to close the old wounds, he was at least sparing others the all-knowing pain. That’s why he loved his job at the FBI. This is why he loves working for the NYPD.

Today was a different case, though. It wasn't Gil who called him, like usual, but Edrisa. He could feel her excitement radiating from the text. Or rather a string of texts. Edrisa was the type of person to shoot 10 texts to get through one idea. Blurbs of text came to his phone as he was sipping his morning coffee.

Bright!!!

You need to see this!

I need to talk to you.

It’s about a case.

Like a very cool one!

ASAP.

Really! It’s a good one!

He was out of the house as soon as he read the word case. Malcolm liked Edrisa. He could always be himself with her. She doesn’t judge him or give him creepy glances when he’s fascinated by murder. She's actually into the same things he likes. They share the same fascination for science and anatomy. He’s grateful for his team in the NYPD, more so now that he feels accepted by them. However, Edrisa was the first to accept him right away, and for that, he will always be grateful. After years of being considered a freak, bullied, harassed, and looked down upon, bright couldn't shake the amount of relief he felt about being so fully accepted and so fast. Even when she knew who he was, what his father was.

He reached her office, and through the glass window, he saw her frantically typing on her computer. Her eyebrows were creased, and she was deep into whatever was on the screen that she startled when he opened the door.

"Bright!" she exclaimed, "what took you so long! Come…come in quickly."

She was hopping on her legs, and in her hurried pace, she managed to hit her funny bony. "Aow Aow Awo,” she repeated and muttered, “why does it always hurt that much.”

Malcolm smiled. It was a quiet and rueful smile, the only smile he ever gives. She doesn't remember ever seeing him truly smile.

“ Hello Edrisa,” he looked at his watch, “I had to walk here. Your texts said you have a case?”

“ Yes, yes, YES," she said with a pointed finger up in the air while navigating back to her desk, and he followed to sit at the chair there. "Okay, so it's not really a case per se,” she said and saw his shoulders drop. “Wait, I mean it is, I really think it is. But when I spoke to Gil, he did not see it.”

He frowned, "Why would, Gil ..."

“haah! Because the victim wasn’t killed.”

His frown deepened, but it wasn't an impatient frown. It was leaning more towards perplexed, thoughtful, and definitely not judgmental. She looked at him for a second.

"No, no, no. Let me explain. Let’s start from the beginning, shall we?” she pushed the rims of her glasses to her nose and started.

"So yesterday was a normal day. All cool. Daily work, nothing out of the ordinary, really. I was working with a poor Jane doe but then. Oh, by the way, did you know that when the lungs are submerged in water for so long, they kind of… oh, Sorry, sorry, of course, you do! Where was I? I got carried away,” she smiled sheepishly. Malcolm smiled back. He knows how Edrisa gets carried away, he does so himself more often than ever, so he's not one to judge. On regular days they can both start talking and jumping from topic to topic that by the end of the conversation, they would have discussed ten different things and forgot what the initial topic was even about. Today was different though, this was not an idle chat. They were discussing a case, and so he curbed his itch to ask about Jane Doe and silently let her continue her narrative.

“Back to our story,” she continued, “ So, I get a call from a colleague of mine, Dr. Mathew Brown, he was working with a victim…um, a Mrs. Lori Stewart. Poor soul took her own life. Husband found her in the bathtub, having slit both her wrists." She hung her head low for a few seconds in dismay, and her voice was less enthusiastic, more apologetic, "She left behind a two-year-old. The husband was devastated."

He lowered his head in turn. One would assume that after so much death surrounding them, that it will get easier. It never does.

“So, Mathew, he um... wanted my opinion on her. He thinks it might not be as simple as it looks.”

In reply to his arched eyebrows, she continued, " Lori went missing a couple of days before the accident. Her husband filed a missing person's report forty-eight hours after she disappeared. He insisted that something terrible must have happened to her because Lori rarely left the house. Never without letting him know. Never without lily, their daughter. He was frantic, according to the reports here,” she moved the monitor on her desk a bit to show Bright the police report.

“However, she turned up two days later, completely unscathed, gave no explanation to where she was. Said she just wanted time off. So, the investigation was closed.”

Malcolm’s hand moved to his face stroking his chin. Edrisa knew he was processing the information, thinking of the hidden angles, something he always does, so she let him be.

“She was not restrained?” his head jerked towards her.

"No. There were no marks anywhere to indicate she has been restrained or held captive. Her clothes were in pristine condition. In all outward appearances, she looked fine. The police ran the S.A.K, and the results came back negative. Apart from her apparent silence, there was really nothing to do.”

Malcolm eyed her, and his lips curled playfully, " but that's not all. Right Edrisa? Tell me what is missing. What did you find out!”

She smiled, not at all flustered by his sassiness. He was not the best profiler she knows for nothing.

“That’s what Mathew contacted me about. He found a very carefully hidden needle entry point. She has been dosed with something. So, when checking her tox screen, he found some anomalies. Lori had a history with depression, recently she suffered from postpartum depression and was still on mood stabilizers, among many others. The bloodwork that was taken back when she came home, and that after her death gave perplexing results. Supposedly, she left her medicine at home, so her blood shouldn’t have any traces of the drugs. Yet the levels in the report indicate that there were drugs in her system. The person-in-charge back at the time did not notice. The total concentration was within limits and in line with what's expected, given her medication list. However, if you look closely at the chemical's concentrations, you can see some of the peaks belong to model drugs that mimic the behavior of a conventional drug. It is very easy to miss if you are not looking for it."

“So, she was given another cocktail of drugs in different concentrations such that the overall concentration was within the limits? That way if you are not directly looking for it, you might miss it. Fascinating! Any idea what could those drugs induce?”

She shook her head, “Unfortunately, by this time, the drugs were flushed out of her system and also mixed in with her normal pills so further tests could not run accurately. She was missing for four days, two before Mr. Stewart was able to file a report. According to Mathew, if she was dosed, she must have been dosed on the first day. That's roughly six days ago, so it is not easy. But we know an excellent forensic chemist. We sent her the sample. Amy Garcia will figure it out, she’s the best!”

Malcolm gnawed at his lips. Something was missing. The case sure was a mystery, but he has nothing to work with for a profile. No pattern. Just a suspected foul play that might have led a poor woman to lose her life. Nothing concrete. He understood why Gil did not see a case yet.

“Edrisa,” he started but was interrupted.

"Okay, now you know the specifics. umm, you also know that I um kind of follow lots of real crime blogs?" her voice continued to drop as if she was ashamed of her hobby and expected the usual judgemental looks she normally received. He said nothing, just looked at her expectantly, and waited.

“ Lori Stewart was not the only case. In fact, this is the third case this month alone!”

That’s it. she hit the jackpot.

He shifted in his chair and looked back up at her, his blue eyes shining with radiant excitement.

She liked how excited he usually gets, and a deep sense of pride invaded her. She had to admit he had pretty eyes. The type anyone can get lost into. And they got all the much prettier when they gleamed this way. Edrisa liked Bright. No. Not in that sort anyway. Malcolm bright was not her crush, despite how she always makes it seem. He is a friend. If anything, she just loves his brain and is fascinated by it. However, that does not mean she can't appreciate art, and his eyes were art.

“The reason why the two cases passed under the police’s radar was that the victims were not reported missing. Here..” she passed him a file with two names and some information.

“A college Freshman, Alex Sanders, and Patricia Young, she is an artist. Here is all the information that I found. I will also let you know when Amy gets back to me about the drug."

“Thank YOU, Edrisa," he said with excitement while hopping off his chair. He steadied his clothes, "I will start on a profile right away. But I will need more information."

She smiled playfully, “You could probably ask Detective Powel. I am sure she will be happy to help.”

He did not seem to hear her because he offered no comment, but she could see his cheeks flush a little. He waved her goodbye and rushed out.

Edrisa eased in her chair. She already felt better. Whoever was behind the death of those people, and behind orphaning a two-year-old will not get away with this.

Edrisa tensed while she sat in that metal armchair. She was terrified beyond measure. Her wrists were tied to the arms of the chair using duct tape. Her ankles were tied together as well. She felt a searing pain in her limbs like fire every time she struggled against them. Edrisa knew that they won’t give away, they were wrapped at least five times, but that did not stop her. She could feel her heartbeat in her ears, and she was struggling to breathe. The duct tape gagging her made matters even worse.

She sat in that chair like some damsel in distress, she couldn't even lift her glasses up when they kept slipping off the bridge of her nose. Not like she loved what she saw, but she has to be able to see. A wave of helplessness crushed her even more, her heartbeat beat even faster. I am a damsel in distress, and by the looks of it, I am not going to be leaving this place alive.

She could not have imagined that she would ever be in such a position. Sure, she had a gun pointed at her once before, and she did not imagine that as well.

No, but no, this was different. This was hopeless. This was futile.

She looked at Bright, a few feet away, and her eyes welled with tears again. She was astonished that tears kept coming. They kept pouring down her face unchecked, and she let them. This was all her fault; she should never have gotten involved in that case. She should never have sent bright those texts.

#prodigal son #prodigal son fanfic #malcolm bright #edrisa tanaka #my first attempt

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tdotsspot · 4 years

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2020.....

Wow, it’s been almost TWO years since I've posted anything on here. I’ve thought about it from time to time, but never sat to actually say anything. I just looked at my last two posts....so funny. This is why I'll probably always keep this....just to look back, see where I was, who I was.

But back to 2020 bc HONESTLY this year is the one to go. down. in the mother. fucking. books.

2019 was literally the best year of my life. It was the year I did the most traveling, the year I made the most money...it was like, perfect until the end. I went to Puerto Rico and St Thomas....Atlanta, Boston of course, MARTHA’S VINEYARD FINALLY and even though I've been there 100 times, this was the absolute best. Of course having Dameo was a plus, getting to show him my childhood summers, but Unc let me use the Mercedes which I legit fell in love with, we met Danny Glover which was crazy, I got the brass ring on my first try lol, and we had a lot of good food. LA, was amazing, I miss it so much....NY.....I feel like I’m missing a city, oh yes, dc! That was a fun drunk night.

Late November for Britt’s bday we all went out and that was the first time I was ever real life drunk around his fam, but it was so much fun. The next week....nana passed. It was sad, weird....I hadn’t lost someone in a really long time, and I was there to see some of her last lucid moments. We definitely got closer over the last two years or so since I visited her a good amount, and it made me more sad than I thought. I’m glad I got to have those moments with her, it was cool to get a grandmother again. Made me miss nanny a lot though...

A few weeks later, we found out I was pregnant! It was planned, we were excited although tbh I was kind of freaking out. A baby??? Like a whole ass human? No more weed, liquor, or runny eggs??? HOW SWAY! I don’t think I was ready yet, and a few weeks after that, RIGHT before Christmas, RIGHT before we were going to tell the family, I had a miscarriage. Goodness, I really wasn’t ready for that, at all. Obviously it’s common, but I never thought I’d have one....I was healthy, in a healthy relationship....happy....how the hell did this happen? Unfortunately we already told our moms at that time, partially to help cheer ang, and I knew my mom would be hype as well. I knew it was early, but I told some close friends as well. The pain I felt from that, I just didn't really expect. It was, really sad....I delayed our trip to Boston twice because I really just couldn’t bring myself to leave the bed and sit on a train for 6 hours. I almost canceled altogether but KNOWING NOW THAT THE FUCKING WORLD WAS GOING TO SHUT DOWN, I'm really glad we still went. It was reassuring to get my hugs from my mom, cry it out with her, and see the fam. Except Kendall was such a douche that visit *rolls eyes*. I did get to go see the friends pop up which LEGIT made my whole holiday. As such a huge fan, it was AMAZING, simply, amazing, and I got to enjoy it with my two older cousins and of course, the Dame.

So that brings us to the new year of 2020. 2020 the year I think EVERYONE thought was going to be amazing, and maybe it will be. Maybe everything that’s going on albeit sad, overwhelming, insane....is in fact the year we all really needed. The Amazon was on fire, forever and as someone who truly cares about global warming that was super stressful. We almost had WWIII thanks to good old Trump, but boy oh boy....that was just the tip of the iceberg. A few weeks later AGAIN, I call my dr telling them I still haven’t gotten my period, my boobs hurt, and wtf is going on? She tells me to take another pregnancy test, which I thought was a joke because I JUST had a miscarriage weeks before, and yes we had sex, but we were ‘careful’. COME TO FIND OUT, my ass is pregnant again. I was, very confused...a little upset because I was planning on waiting a bit before trying for real again. I mean we just dealt with so much loss between nana and the miscarriage, I hadn’t even fully processed what my body just went through. I remember angrily buying the test because, those shits aren’t cheap.....peeing with the door open with Dame downstairs, (not at ALL romantic like the first time I told him) and looking down like....wait. “WHAT THE FUCK” about 3 times was said, I explained to dame this indeed does say I’m pregnant, but how??

30 minutes later, the world finds out Kobe Bryant died. There were a lot of emotions that day for sure. Even though I wasn’t a die hard Kobe fan or anything, for some reason this one really made me sad. Maybe because I was currently listening to a book his personal coach wrote; relentless....which is REALLY fucking good.

A week later, I'm confirmed via bloodwork that I am indeed pregnant and it’s time for take two! I didn't get excited until I passed my first trimester, just in case...but now at almost 26 weeks, I’m really excited to meet her. My babygirl! It’s still wild to know I’m about to be a mom, but I’m really pumped for both of us and I know we’ll make great parents.

Ah yes, the mid march, covid 19 hits America. I was supposed to go on a three city tour to the west coast which I was very much looking forward to, before the world stopped. In fact, it was that very weekend, right after we had our ultrasound, the first and only visit Dame was allowed to come in, that everything stopped. A week or so later, a mid level of depression kicked in for me, which lasted about a month. I couldn’t believe that after WEEKS of puking and being dead ass tired, I was finally ready to work again, but I was Essentially unemployed. The west coast gig was a cute check, I had multiple events coming up that got canceled....weddings that got postponed, and all I could think about was I’m about to have a kid with no money. I went almost two entire months without making ANY money....luckily unemployment kicked in and I got a couple of grants I applied for because I really don’t know what I would’ve done. My mom of course was in my corner, and Dame would start working from home, but still fully employed so at least we wouldn’t be homeless. I knew there were hundreds of thousands of people in my boat, if not worse but I couldn’t help but be consumed with not making any money, and my 2020 year essentially being wiped out.

Again, this was supposed to be MY year. Be a parent, make a lot of money, and I felt like I just fell flat on my face, in mud, and was suffocating.

America’s approach to covid was trash, more and more people died...I was worried about my mom and aunts as they're older and more susceptible. This is the longest I've gone without seeing my mom, but thanks to technology! We literally FaceTime every day.

I almost forgot! Red literally almost died. He got attacked by a pit that lives up the street and it was one of the scariest things I ever dealt with. We just came back from a cute little drive, it was absolutely beautiful out, and I just remember parking, letting him out for a walk, looking at a dog running but I couldn’t tell if it was on a leash or not. I then realized nope, this bitch is not on a leash, crossing the street, and watching it whip its head at me and red and sprinting across the street to attack him. I was absolutely terrified. My baby red, is literally getting mangled by a fucking pit by the neck. I’m also pregnant and scared the pit is going to attack me, that my stress is going to cause another miscarriage, and that I’m probably going to watch red die in front of my eyes. I completely blacked out on the woman who was sloppily running to get her dog off of him. Had it been a minute more, max, he would’ve been dead. I still picture it sometimes and it legit makes me so sad, but luckily he pulled through after about a week of healing, and a huge bloody abscess that needed to be drained.

THEN about a month ago now, George Floyd was killed on tape by a cop and it changed the world. Between Breonna Taylor, and Ahmaud Abery dying and being cooped up for months in the house, major cities went up in flames, literally. It was a revolution that Is still happening which has caused corporate America to shove ‘black lives matter’ down our throats like black people just popped up, shown privileged ass white people who refuse to try and understand, racist fucks that just hate us so much....and the list goes on.

That’s been our year so far! and it about to get shut down again because because aren't taking covid seriously.

Pregnancy has been really interesting though....not at all like what they show on tv and the movies. I’ve been emotional as hell crying over my body changing....constipated af to the point where I now celebrate any time I shit, hella uncomfortable....but I know when we see her face it will indeed all be worth it. Doing this back to back though like Dame envisions....I don’t know man lol. We shall see. She's due in about 3.5 months. Check in before then....

Tdot, out.

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stitch-n-time · 4 years

Text

Topic of Conversation

The setup: I have ehler-danlos syndrome. My primary care physician (PCP) is the one that finally agreed to have the test run, after my seeing like 6 or 7 other doctors that just totally dismissed the idea. I love her. She's fabulous. Would recommend to at least most people. She's also gotten used to me over the past 3-ish years. She's told me in the past that she knows it's going to be an "interesting day" when she sees my name on the patient list. Everything from "my foot folded in half" to "I need you to help slice my toe open to fix this particular thing" to "I touched my leg and the skin split" to the latest one - "I woke up and my thumb was dislocated". All while having conversations that range from "we're going fishing tomorrow" to "haunted museum tours, you should totally bring your kid!" to "no no no... If you're still pregnant on Halloween, you should TOTALLY do the chestburster!" and a little bit of everything in between. So yesterday I go see her because... well, my thumb dislocated in my sleep. Like 2 weeks ago. It hasn't been quite right since. It keeps subluxating (not quite dislocated, but not quite in the right spot), my grip strength is nonexistent, and it's becoming a problem. While there, I show her a ring brace that I think may help and ask her opinion. (Also about some supplements made specifically for people with conditions like mine, and she’s all gung-ho about my being a guinea pig for this particular one. Will update after they come in, and after taking them for a while.)

“I don’t know. I think it may help? But they’re also really expensive, and I don’t want you to have to spend that much without knowing more. Would you mind going and getting some x-rays? Maybe seeing a sports medicine specialist at the building I used to work in?”

me: “Sure! I would actually feel a little better getting a third* opinion on this, and having the images might help. It doesn’t feel like there’s bone chips or anything but still...”

Dr B: “OK. Let me print out a referral for you. And I’ll get the order for the blood test, so after you’ve taken those supplements for about a month, go ahead and get the bloodwork done. I want to see what happens there.”

me: “Yeah, great. That’s totally doable. And if anything happens with those, I’ll let you know and discontinue use.”

A little later yesterday, I get a phone call from her assistant. “Dr B told Dr D about you over lunch, and he said to go ahead and get just an over the counter soft brace for now. He’ll confirm when he sees you.”

Which... great. Now I know these two are friendly. Cool cool cool.

I call this morning to see if Dr D has openings for some point within the next couple of weeks. “Yeah, we’ve got an opening in about a half an hour. Can you be here?”

“Sure! I’m on the way home from work and haven’t passed that turn yet. Let’s go ahead and do it.”

Now, some important information here: I met Dr B while she was at the teaching hospital. I followed her from her observation, through where she was doing the observations, and into the new building where she works now. Dr D is currently at the teaching hospital, where he is doing the observation of upper level students who are working through their rounds and getting practice before being sent out into the world.

So I get there, go through the weight/height/blood pressure thing again, and go sit in a room. Student doctor comes and does an exam. She’s really taken aback by the whole “Yeah, Dr B had no idea either. But she was the first person to take me seriously. Mostly because she admitted that she had heard about ehlers-danlos but had never seen it, so she looked it up on the internet and essentially ran down the checklist while I listed off symptoms. Immediately ordered the test. Which, really? Just a simple blood draw? That could have been done years ago!” thing. Then we get to laughing about it.

SD: “Can you do that thing where you touch the ground, but with your hands flat? I can’t even touch my toes.” She demonstrates.

I laugh. “Yep!” Stand up, smack my hands flat on the floor and keep walking them back until my shoulders are behind my knees. “Want me to keep going?”

At this point she’s laughing, too. “What else can you do?”

“Touch my nose with my toes. Put one arm up and one arm down and grab my wrists behind my back. Before I had kids, I could bend backwards and put my heels on my chest. From behind. But I can’t do that anymore.”

Student doctor leaves. I can hear muffled conversation through the wall adjoining the exam room to Dr D’s office. Student doctor comes in. Dr D comes in, with a really amused look on his face. Introductions are made, he repeats the exam, checking a couple of things that student doctor didn’t know to check. He’s explaining why as he’s doing the exam. I’m nodding along, because this is familiar territory to me, thanks to previous work experience.

Dr D is doing the “Does it hurt here? Here? Here? What about if I do this?” thing while poking at the thumb and wiggling it around.

me: “No, not there. Pain receptors don’t quite fire correctly because of the EDS. The pain is specifically here, here, and here,” said while I put a finger on the spots.

Dr D: “Oh yeah. I forgot about that.” He leans back against the counter. “Honestly, you’re the first person I’ve ever actually seen with EDS. So a lot of my knowledge is more theoretical. What did you do that might have caused this with your thumb?”

me: “Slept?”

They both blink at me a few times. It takes a minute.

Dr D: “No, no. I guess that makes sense. With your condition and all.”

me: “Yep. It just kinda happens. Now I know you talked to Dr B yesterday and approved a soft brace, but I want to show you something and get your opinion. Because I research everything. It’s what I do.”

I pull out my phone and show him this:

“I’m more worried about the lateral movement than the hyperextension, since the hyperextension is something that’s happened ever since I can remember and has never been a problem.”

Dr D: “Oh yeah, that will do everything I would hope for. Probably a little more. That looks better than anything I would have been able to recommend.”

me: “Perfect! I’ll see about ordering one, then. I was reluctant because of the price.” I stare at it for a minute. “Or maybe I’ll see about getting some sturdy wire and just making it my own damned self.”

Dr D: “I’m still going to send you for x-rays. I don’t think there’s anything there, but it’s a safety precaution in case of bone chips.”

me: “Yeah, Dr B and I talked about it yesterday, but I thought it would be a good idea to see you first. I don’t think there’s anything in there, but...”

Dr D: “You know we’re having lunch with Dr B today, right?”

me: “Yeah, I kind of figured. She fan-freakin-tabulous. Just don’t tell her I said so.”

Dr D laughs at me. “Yeah, we’re best friends. It may just slip. That happens sometimes. You already know we’ve talked about you, since her office called you yesterday.”

me: “More power to ya. Hell, if you want to talk about me to more people, let me know. Especially if there’s a new doctor you want to freak out a little bit. I’m an interesting case, and will absolutely tell them when they’re wrong.”

Dr D: “Oh. We are definitely going to be having a talk over lunch today...”

*third opinion, as she is confident that I have stupid amounts of self awareness, and actually know if something isn’t right before test results would show anything, so her confirmation counts as a second opinion when it’s just the two of us in the room

#ehlers danlos syndrome #chronic illness #spoonies 4 lyfe

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mytwitteralt · 4 years

Text

lol

so uh, the best laid plans, huh?

Vacation was awesome. We came back, I went to the doctor’s appointment, I was freaking out. She was very nice, but yeah, she’s never treated a trans patient before. So she gave me the audible “of course I’ll be seeing you for post surgical care, and of course I can get you a referral for your final specialist letter, and fill out this form” but when talking about HRT was like “well I have no idea” and I said “pretty sure you can talk to this community resource” and she was like “how about you talk to them” and I said “right but like..what if YOU talked to them” and then I procrastinated because I was nervous and then her office called me back and said “yeah we talked to them and they said you can just head on over” and I was like “...right, but like, it’d be easiest if you could just prescribe so if you could LEARN how to do that, that’d be best for me” and the nurse was really confused but I said I’d follow up w/ the community place and get back to them, BUT THEN I PROCRASTINATED AND STILL HAVE and then covid happened! and im immunosuppressed due to the meds I take for crohn’s and i feel like if I go to a clinic waiting room, that’s a really bad idea for me! So even if I call the place, get the info, the doctor gets up to speed, and I go to the clinic to get the script/bloodwork, that’s really irresponsible because of the ‘vid. so now i’m in HRT limbo. and I could call and follow up with the endocrinologist to make sure I’m on the right waiting list and get an estimate, but I’m NERVOUS and PROCRASTINATING and honestly if I get in to her wait list, I feel like again - it’s irresponsible for me to go to a waiting room. Like i am just legit not leaving my apartment ever, and it’s been workin out so far. so that means TOP SURGERY is also on hold. covid really fuckin things up amirite. sigh. i’ve gotten pretty depressed. my partner said she could see me in my old age and I kind of flipped out because how could she envision these things that are so far away. I dunno I try to play it cool but I think I’m just a lot more irritable than I try to let on because of the pandemic. i was just sitting around a lot every day but yesterday got motivated to keep working on my twitch channel, my youtube channel, and get back into working out. i feel most like im actually working on my transition when i work out, even though i’m not at all. also i think i want to order a binder. i keep saying “oh my boobs are too big it won’t do anything” but either a better size or just a high impact sports bra must be able to do SOMETHING. basically im a lot more depressed about it all than im trying to let on because it’s no one’s fault but like...if none of this had happened, #notit2020 would’ve been possible and now it’s definitely not. no maybe not even #notit2021 ALSO I made a new FB account with my new name and some people friended it that I really didn’t want to know so that was a fucking terrifying 24 hours. So I’m kind of expecting my family to start messaging me about shit or something but whatever. I’m feeling so yolo about everything in life because life fucking sucks that like...let’s do this, whatever. BLUGH. i had some deep feelings after a Sunday drive about like...who am I and who do I want to be and how that’s all influenced by my dad but...now I’m tired :( maybe next week

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thewritingcaptain · 5 years

Text

A Simple Plan (Chapter 6)

“..his parents are Hydra agents, Tony. We've all seen what they've done firsthand. I just think it's a possibility that… perhaps he's been the subject of some unwitting experiments." The thought hit him in the chest like a ton of bricks. He suddenly realized why Cap had said he didn't like it, because he didn't like it, either, especially because it was so damn likely.

Another Steve and Tony talk.

There was a heavy silence between them as Tony and Steve made their way back up to the Avengers' level.

Neither of them said anything for a long few minutes as they settled down on one of the couches in the normally busy common room. Tony pulled out his tablet and pulled up the feed from his workshop, setting the tablet propped up on the table in front of them. He was definitely going to keep an eye on him this time.

Not that there was too much to see now. The kid had scarfed down probably at least half the sandwiches in the time since they'd left, then disappeared into the bathroom. Tony knew there was nothing he could get into in there, nor any way for him to escape as the only door in there was the one that led both in and out, but he still kept an eye on that tablet as Steve turned to him again.

"Tony, we need to talk about what just happened." Cap crossed his arms, looking at him with a strained expression.

"Obviously." Tony sighed, turning from the tablet to face the soldier. "I know I should have done something, and I definitely shouldn't have shot him, but it was the only weapon I had, and-"

"No, not about that. I wouldn't have punished him either, and you reacted on instinct." Cap dismissed his worries with a wave, then leaned forward again. "No, I mean… we need to talk about how the kid did that, for starters. And also… where he was." He hesitated, looking like even he didn't believe what he was about to say, but eventually he blurted, "Tony, I think he was on the ceiling."

"What?" Tony frowned, leaning back slightly. "Cap, he's just a kid. Maybe a freakishly strong kid, if what he did to the chair was any indication, but-"

"He just dropped to the ground from seemingly nowhere outside the door," Cap countered. "If he was somehow on the ceiling, that would explain how he got out around us, too. And there's that too! What he did to the chair… I just… I don't like it, Tony. Something is really weird about him."

Tony considered what he was saying. He'd had the same thought himself, but not exactly in relation to the same thing. But now that he considered it… the kid was painting a very odd overall picture of himself. He'd handled being kidnapped incredibly well, except for a minor panic attack, and Tony suspected that had less to do with what was going on around him than something internal. The way he'd reasoned things out so accurately, his apparently hidden survival capabilities like those reflexes on the stairs and that crazy strength… And Cap was right about him escaping when they had opened the door. He had to be, or else Friday would have alerted him to the security breach before they'd gotten there. Still, the kid climbing on the ceiling was hard to fathom.

"Okay," he said, after a long moment of silence. "I agree, he's weird. So what are you getting at?"

Cap hesitated, looking down and closing his eyes as if bracing himself. "I… his parents are Hydra agents, Tony. We've all seen what they've done firsthand. I just think it's a possibility that… perhaps he's been the subject of some unwitting experiments."

The thought hit him in the chest like a ton of bricks. He suddenly realized why Cap had said he didn't like it, because he didn't like it, either, especially because it was so damn likely. It didn't explain some of the weirdness, sure, but… "Shit," he muttered, running a hand over his face. "That's…" Twisted and crazy and awful in so many ways, yet he didn't know how he hadn't considered it before. This was Hydra they were talking about. "Any ideas how we can be sure?"

Steve considered it. "Bloodwork?" he suggested. "Depending on what they did to him, that might give us some idea of what we're working with here. And I think we should check Friday to be sure how he got out."

Tony nodded, picking up the tablet. That was exactly what he was thinking. He pushed the current surveillance of the kid to the side and had Friday pull up the surveillance footage from a few hours ago, scanning through it until he'd just gotten to where he'd watched himself leave.

The kid sat there for a good few minutes after he was gone, lips moving silently as he seemed to try to plan or hype himself into action. Then, suddenly, he gave a firm pull, and both arms of the chair snapped off, the wood pieces slipping out and letting him easily pull his arms from the ropes. Then the blindfold came off, and immediately he shut his eyes again, clutching his head in apparent agony.

Cap leaned closer to the screen. "Wait a second. The panic attack earlier…" He'd seen it when he was scrolling through the footage, and Tony had briefly given him that explanation. "I don't think that was a panic attack."

"What?" Tony glanced at him, frowning slightly. "Cap, I've seen a panic attack before. I've had panic attacks before. He was hyperventilating and shaking-"

"-and he was froze up in his seat like he was afraid to move, not freaking out and trying to move," Cap pointed out. He nodded to the screen again. "Just like he is here. And he's clutching his head, not his chest. It's sensory overload. I get it too. But mine is from my enhanced senses." His face was thoughtful but pained as he watched the kid crack his eyes open again slowly and get to work on freeing his legs. "You don't think…"

"I don't know, Cap. It seems like nothing is impossible at this point." Tony sighed, watching as he freed himself and started taking in his surroundings before approaching the glass wall to the outside. "Is there any way to really be able to tell for sure?" He glanced back at Steve.

He thought about it, chewing on his lip. "None that wouldn't hurt him," he said with a sigh. "I know a few sure-fire ways to induce the sensory overload, but…"

"Yeah, we'll only go that far if we have to," Tony agreed without him having to finish. He glanced back at the screen and blinked in surprise. In the span of a few seconds, the kid had somehow gotten on the ceiling and was clinging to it, hanging just above the door as their past selves approached it. He was staring down at them with wide eyes, seeming to listen to them for a few minutes before shaking himself out of it and slipping out the top of the door.

"Holy shit," Tony blurted, before he could think better of it, watching as he dropped from the ceiling outside the door and as they turned to race after him. He shut the video off at that point. "You were right, Cap. But how… I mean, what the hell kind of enhancement could he possibly have? He's just… walking on the ceiling." He had to admit, he hadn't expected that turn of events. The kid finding a way to get up there had seemed far fetched enough, but the fact that he hadn't even appeared to use anything to do it…

"That's… definitely weird," Steve muttered, running a hand through his hair. "Definitely not normal."

"That's the understatement of the year." Tony sighed, getting up. "I don't know about you, but I want some answers. And I'm not really qualified to do bloodwork."

Steve stood up too, crossing his arms. "Well, pick your poison, then. Because Bruce isn't going to be ready to do anything for us anytime soon, so you're either going to have to wait for him to get your bloodwork or bring him up to the Medbay for someone else to do it."

Tony made a face. Neither of those options were particularly appealing. "Well, we've already faced him with the truth about his parents, and he knows what's going on, so… maybe I can just talk to him," he reasoned. "If he denies it, we have the video evidence. The only thing he can do is refuse to tell us anything, and I doubt he will." If their earlier encounter was anything to go by, he suspected they wouldn't have any more trouble. He'd taken his shot and lost; now he would just cooperate and hope for the best. Tony knew that feeling, and he felt bad for inflicting it on the kid, but he didn't have much for other options here.

The captain didn't look quite as sure, but he just nodded. "I'm going to go check in on everyone and see if Sam has anything for us," he told him. "Just call if you need me."

"Will do." Tony watched him head towards the Medbay with his lips pressed together in a thin line, waiting until he'd disappeared from his sight before heading back to the elevator.

Taglist: @httydlovena @tell-that-to-my-feather @lyrical-harmony @twixen93 @m0ther-of-dragons

Let me know if you want to be added!

#irondad #irondad and spiderson #irondad and spiderson fanfiction #fanfiction #tony stark fanfiction #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker whump #a simple plan #my writing #tony stark fanfic #peter parker fanfic #iron man #tony stark #peter parker #spiderman #spider-man #iron man fanfiction

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athena1138 · 5 years

Text

So, I’ve talked to my irl friends about this, but it’s still bothering me. Feel free to ignore, it’s just more mom-drama, but it’s like bigger than usual and I’m really just struggling with this one so much. I’m crying now, before I’ve even typed this out.

So. I am very obese. I hate using that word because it’s so gross, but it’s true. I weigh about 370-375lbs, and most of it is fat (i.e., not muscle.) That being said, I feel very healthy. None of my bloodwork ever comes back troublesome. I have decent blood pressure. I don’t even have sleep apnea. The one thing my doctor is worried about is the fact my dad died from heart failure at 45. I get that. That’s a valid concern. But that’s not necessarily weight-related.

Well, my mom has always, through my entire life, been harping about my weight. She’s overweight, too, though so it’s not like she’s some twig with a fast metabolism yelling at me. When I was like 3 I think, she got that stomach stapling thing that nobody does anymore, and it kind of helped but not much. Now, she’s pretty much set on getting a gastric bypass. You know, the one where they literally cut half your stomach out. I had been looking into it vaguely a while back, so when she said, “What do you think of bariatric surgery?” I was like, “Eh? It’s fine, I guess.” She said, “I’m gonna do it. Would you wanna do it with me?” and I was like, “I mean. I don’t know. I’d have to think about it for sure.” She started talking about it, what all it entails, what the procedure actually is. And then she adds, “You wouldn’t be able to drink, you know.”

Now. I’m 23. I’ve only had two years of drinking under my belt. (No, I never drank before I was 21. Maybe a few sips of shit here and there but otherwise no.) And I like it. I definitely drink more than is considered “healthy” But I like it. So, I was like, “Well how do you mean?” She said that because half my stomach would be taken out, the alcohol would go straight to my intestines and that’s very Not Good (tm.) I would basically get very very sick and maybe die. So I said, “Well then no.”

I thought the thing was dropped.

Nah.

The other day (day before, I think?) she was on the phone with someone. She was talking about the surgery and then she goes, out of nowhere, “Oh, and Beck’s going to do it with me.”

I was like, “Uhm, I’m sorry, what?” And she’s going on she said, “Yeah, we’ll get it done together and we’ll take care of each other after,” so I yelled, “UM, NO, I’m not!”

She just kept going. I said, “Mom, No,” at least 3 more times before she finally ended that topic.

I’m sitting here fucking bewildered because I was pretty goddamn sure I told her I didn’t want to have it done. I’m already texting my friends about it, freaking out because WHAT?

She comes to my door and she goes, “Did you just say no?” I just gaped at her and said, “Yes, I said no.”

“You... don’t want to have the surgery?”

“NO!”

“Why?” and she sounds like. Offended. And annoyed.

I said, “Because I’m only twentyfuckingthree, Mom, I’m not ready to never drink ever again.”

And she just stares at me for a minute before she goes, “Alright,” and walks away.

??????????? WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN?

She comes back about 5 minutes later and goes, “Well there’s *insert 4 different types of bariatric surgeries and their benefits.*”

I’m annoyed and frustrated and frankly hurt. Like. This is my mother. Telling me I need surgery. Because I’m too fat. AGAIN. My friend said, “She actually wants you to get the surgery???” and I said, “Dude she brings it up at least once every 6 or 7 months.”

So. Basically, I am kind of considering getting that balloon surgery because I have looked into it on my own before but 1) I’m fucking terrified, and 2) I also don’t really want to. I know, I know. Being 400lbs is not fucking healthy long-term no matter how good I feel. But I like myself. I’m not in love with my body, but I like my body. It’s, y’know, my body. The last time I was skinny, I was like 9. I’m not saying that being fat is part of my identity, but I don’t know that being skinnier wouldn’t change anything. It’s just such a complicated fucking feeling, you know? And it’s not even like lipo. Like, it’s not going to just be WHAM BAM CHANGE, it’s still going to happen over time, and really all it’s going to do is change how much food I eat in one sitting, but like????????

And I’m fucking hurt. I’m so fucking hurt. Because again, this is my MOTHER. The woman who is supposed to love me unconditionally and think the sun shines out my ass. Once again telling me that I’m not good enough. That I need to change. That I don’t fit her Image. I spent 19 fucking years of my life in a bitter, body-hating depression because of my grandma and my mom and her fucking Image, and she still tries to shove it down my throat. For fuck’s sake, I used to get acne treatments and hair supplements for CHRISTMAS presents. Do you know what kind of damage that does to a girl???

I just. For once in my fucking life. I want someone who is supposed to love me to tell me that I’m good enough. Someone who looks and me and doesn’t see body hair that needs shaved, doesn’t see weight that needs to be lost, doesn’t see acne that should disappear. Is that so fucking much to ask?

#rant #body image #body weight #fat #body issues #just #fucking shut up becca

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dibs4ever · 5 years

Text

I love him so much (Prequal)

Barbara Gordon stood in the shower letting the hot water relax her muscles. In the past 4 weeks, she had thrown herself completely into her batgirl duties. She knew it was only a distraction from -him.

But it was better than where she had been the previous month. Where she just lied in bed all day ignoring the outside world completely. She didn’t want to eat, patrol, exercise, socialize or even bathe. All she wanted was for the pain of losing her best friend to go away

Today was her annual physical with Dinah. She’d already canceled and rescheduled twice and she knew if she canceled again D would break into the watchtower and drag her to her office herself. She laughed lightly Dick always hated going to these check-ups. ”They’re pointless” hed insist. Somehow everything reminded her of him , his spare toothbrush and extra clothes that he kept in her guest bedroom that she couldn’t seem to bring herself to throw away, the cereal aisle at the grocery store, the color blue, her old bedroom where they slept with each other for the first time after getting hit with Ivy’s-“

She turned off the water those days were over. Dick Grayson existed now only in memories.

When she walked into Dinah’s she looked surprised “Barbara hey! I was half expecting you’d call and cancel” she said flopping down in a seat and patting the bed in front of her.

“I knew you’d come find me if I didn’t show,” Barbara said hopping up on the bed

Dinah smiled “ You know me so well. So how are you really?” She asked

Barbara shrugged “ Fine I guess”

Dinah shook her head “ Barb come on talk to me”

Barbara sighed “I’m—-doing better” it wasn’t a lie she really was.

Dinah nodded “You know I can still prescribe you something to help. There’s no shame in it Barbara”

She let out a sigh “Yeah I know. But I’m doing better honest”

Dinah shook her head “No you just traded lying in bed and sleeping all day for completely throwing yourself into Batgirl duties. I heard you are quitting your job at the library”

Barbara shrugged “We have a lot of missions and investigations going on right now”

“Are you ever Barbara Gordon anymore? I ran into your dad yesterday and he said he hasn’t seen you in 3 weeks and that you always say you’re busy with class. You dropped out of your classes the day of Dicks funeral”

Barbara glanced at her fingers at the mention of his name

“Sorry,” Dinah said softly fearing she had triggered something

Barbara shook her head “No you’re right, let’s just get this over with”

Dinah nodded

An hour later Dinah slipped off her vinyl gloves ”Welp you're almost done, let me just go in the back and check you're bloodwork then you'll be on your way.

Barbara nodded “Great, I have some computer analysis’ I need to get done”

Dinah laughed as she exited the room. She came back a few moments later though holding the paper in her hand, examining it with a completely different expression on her face.

“Di is everything alright?” Barbara questioned jumping off the bed and approaching the other woman

Dinah continued to look at the blood test results “Barbara when was your last mensural cycle?”

Barbara thought for a moment “I don’t know, maybe 6 weeks ago. But ya know it’s always been kinda wonky and with everything going on—- “ she stopped “Dinah did the blood test come back with something. Am I sick?”

Dinah shook her head “Barb when was the last time you were.....active?”

Barbara rose an eyebrow “Active?” she thought her mind having flashes of his hands running up and down her back. Her hands tangled in his hair, his lips on her neck whispering sweet nothings to her. “I don’t know I guess a little over two months ago. Dinah is everything okay? You’re kinda scaring me”

Dinah nodded “Well kinda, you don’t have a disease if that’s what you’re thinking. But according to this”, she taped the paper and read over the results for the tenth time just to be sure she was definitely reading it correctly “You’re pregnant “

Barbara took a step back “Pregnant? “ she shook her head “That’s impossible”

“Did you use protection?” Dinah shrugged

Which time. Barbara mentally thought but the news was still waving over her “You said that I couldn’t get pregnant because of all the stress, activity and injury I put on my body over the years”

Dinah shook her head “I never said you couldn’t, I said it was a possibility that you couldn’t “

Barbara shook her head “I can’t be pregnant. It must be a mistake I mean if I’m pregnant that means it’s “ she bit her lip unable to say the name.

“Dick’s?” Dinah finished the sentence for her

Barbara remained silent but her deep inhalation giving her the answer

“We can do an ultrasound to confirm “ Dinah tilted her head, Barbara gave a nod

A few moments later Barbara was lying back on the bed her shirt up while Dinah sat beside the bed with an ultrasound machine.

She squirted some cold gel on her stomach before waving the wand around. After a couple seconds of what looked like nothing an image appeared

“Is that?” Barbara began

Dinah nodded “That is your baby.” She continued to wave the wand around “If I had to guess I’d say you’re about 10 or 11 weeks along”

Barbara continued to stare at the screen, the timing was definitely correct “Is it-“

“Okay?” Dinah nodded “It has a heartbeat, wanna hear?” She began hitting buttons already knowing Barbara’s answer was yes

The thump-thumping of the heartbeat came through the speakers

Both Dinah and Barbara stared in awe

She pushed herself up getting a better look at the screen “Turn it off” she said quickly

Dinah did as she said and handed her a towel to wipe the gel off her stomach “Are you Alright?”

Barbara laid back on the bed blinking as she did a breathing exercise to calm her nerves. “I’m carrying a dead man's child”

“ You’re carrying Dick Grayson’s child” Dinah reworded

Barbara nodded “I’m carrying Dick Grayson’s child” she rested her hand on her stomach as if the realization was just setting in she shook her head “Nobody can know about this Dinah”

“Okay,” Dinah said slowly

Barbara caught onto what was probably going through her friend's mind “I’m keeping it, I couldn’t imagine not. I mean this is Dick’s child.”

“So how are you going to keep this a secret?” Dinah asked

Barbara shrugged “I don’t know, I guess they’ll find out at one point. But how will Bruce and my father react?” She shook her head “We weren’t even dating we were just-“

“Dick and Babs?” Dinah questioned

Barbara nodded “Yeah....Bruce I don’t think he’ll care much. But my dad....as far as he knows Dick and I have never had anything more than friendship. He’d freak out”

Barbara doesn’t know why but she decides to tell Wally first. She calls him as soon as she gets out of Dinah’s office and asks to meet him for lunch, Wally never turns down food so of course, he agrees.

They’re sitting in a little Cafe in Polo Alto when she finally works up the nerve to slide the envelope across the table to him

“What’s this?” Wally rose an eyebrow, opening up the envelope he pulled out the ultrasound photos Dinah had printed for her. She didn’t want them, but Dinah insisted if she didn’t she may regret not getting them

Barbara watched as Wally’s eyes scanned over the photos “Are these- is this you?” he questioned

Barbara nodded

He let out a sigh “Congrats I guess” he set the photos down he was quiet for a moment “So this is why you called me for the first time since Dick’s service? You wanted to tell me that you’re pregnant?”

Barbara shook her head “Wally it’s not-“

He cut her off “No Barb, Dick would be happy that you’re moving on really he would. He loved you that much.”

“Wally I’m 11 weeks along” she cut in

Wally’s mouth opened “You mean” he picked up the pictures again “This is”

Barbara nodded “Yeah I just found out a few hours ago. You’re the only one who knows- besides Dinah who told me”

A small smile crept on Wally’s face “Dick is going to be a dad”

Barbara smiled “Yeah I wish he was here”

“Could you imagine if he was here. He’d freak” He handed her the photos back

Barbara shrugged “I’m not sure if he’d freak in a good way or a bad way”

Wally chuckled “Are you kidding me? Sweetie if he knew that his Babs was barring his child he’d be cheering at the top of his lungs. Heck he’d be swinging from the rooftops announcing it to all of Gotham and Bludhaven to hear”

The next person she tells is Tim and Stephanie. It wasn’t planned it kinda just happened a week after her appointment. They’re at the batcomputer when she walks into the cave.

“Hey Barb, it’s actually great that you’re here we could use your help,” Stephanie says in full Spoiler gear

Tim nods “Yeah, how fast do you think you can suit up?”

Barbara shakes her head “I-can’t “

Tim steps away from the computer “Still? Dinah said you needed a break but I figured after a week you’d be itching to get out”

Stephanie stood behind him nodding in agreement

“I can’t for at least another 6 months “ she sighed

They both looked at her oddly

“Are you okay Barbara?” Stephanie stepped forward

Barbara nodded “Guys I’m-“ she paused “I’m having Dick’s child”

They both fell silent “You mean?” His eyes glanced down to Barbara’s stomach then back at her

Stephanie covered her mouth with her hand “This is a plot twist I didn’t see coming”

“Does Bruce know?” Tim whispered

Barbara shook her head “Only Wally, Dinah and now you two know”

The next day she tells Bruce. She figures he’ll figure it out eventually especially now that Tim and Stephanie know. She lights the bat signal and waits for him to show. He lands on the rooftop looking slightly surprised. Something unusual “Barbara,” he says in his batman voice “When do you think you’ll be able to go back on patrol again?”

Barbara shakes her head “Not for a little while”

“He’s the father correct?” Bruce says not looking at her

Barbara shrugged “I figured you’d know”

“There aren’t many things that would require Dinah to request you be out for several months” he retaliates “Plus I know you’re the only one who could drive Dick to be careless”

Barbara nods in agreement

“So answer my question. Dick’s the father correct?” he persists

Barbara glances at him “Do I need to?”

Bruce glances back at her “Am I supposed to say congratulations or good luck?”

Barbara doesn’t respond

“If you come across anything you would like or need just contact Alfred and I will be sure that it is taken care of, and come to the manor whenever need be” he says before grappling off into the Gotham night. He tells Damian and Alfred, Alfred is happy for her but sad that the boy he helped raise won’t be here to see his child. Damian thinks the child will be a great vigilante someday.

Jason finds her, it’s a month later. She’s officially 4 months along and still not showing which is a blessing since her dad still doesn’t know.

Red Hood lands on the balcony to the clock tower. Setting her book down she goes to the sliding glass door and opens it “Hey” she greets

Jason nods stepping in “Hey Barbie” he pecks her on the cheek

She watches him for a moment “Unusual for you to pay random visits hood”

He’s quiet for another moment “Is it true?” He asks glancing around the room

Barbara bites her lip “How’d you hear?”

Jason looks at her “Believe it or not our little family of sorts likes to gossip. So is it? Did you and Dickie boy not wrap it?”

Barbara rolls her eyes typical Jason and nods in response

Jason nods back he looks her up and down “You can’t tell, you don’t have a stomach yet.” He pokes her belly “So is the little rugrat a boy or a girl?”

Barbara shook her head “I don’t know yet”

Jason nods “You been getting along okay?”

Barbara lets out a breath “Believe it or not this has helped me get over Dick’s death”

“Well ya know if you ever need-I mean I'm not gonna be the twerp's new dad- but if need help ever” he stammers

Barbara smiled “Thanks Jay”

Jason looks her over “Well I’m craving a smoke and I’ve heard it ain’t good to smoke around pregnant ladies, I know ole Dickie might come back from the grave if I put his offspring in danger” he says and before she knows it he’s gone

It’s a month later, she’s a little over 20 weeks and she still hasn’t told her dad. She knows she can’t keep the secret much longer. She finally begins forming a subtle bump. She knows she’s lucky she was able to hide it for this long.

Barbara wakes up in a hospital bed, her hands immediately going to her stomach. She thinks back last she remembered she was in the Batcave working on a case. She had thrown herself full-fledged into her duties as Oracle working long hours. “Barb!” She instantly hears her dad rushing to her bedside “Timothy Drake called, he said you passed out at Wayne Manor. He brought you here”

Barbara blinked the realization coming to her

“It took me forever to find you. The maternity ward? Why are you here.”

“Dad” she breathed “I’m-“

Before she could continue a Doctor walked in

“Miss.Gordon, glad to see you’re awake I’m Dr.Fraggs.” He shook her hand then her dads

“Doctor is everything alright? Is my baby okay?” Barbara immediately asks, not caring if her father was in the room

Fraggs smiled “Yes we did an ultrasound as soon as you came in. Your baby is fine- would you like to see him?”

“Him” Barbara repeated

Fraggs nodded “You didn’t know?”

Barbara shook her head and laid back allowing the Doctor to proceed with the ultrasound “He’s quite the little mover” he remarked upon seeing the baby flip around on the screen

Barbara smiled “Yeah I can tell, I feel him all the time” she continued to watch the baby moving on the screen.

“Well, Miss. Gordon, we determined the reason for your blackout was you have been overexerting yourself.” He said as he turned off the machine a few minutes later. “So do me a favor and tone it down a little I don’t want to see you back here till it’s time for that bouncing baby boy of yours to be born”

As soon as the Doctor exited the room her father who had been silent spoke up “Mind telling me what that was about”

Barbara inhaled a breath “I’m pregnant”

Jim nodded “I see that were you planning on telling me?”

Barbara shrugged “When the timing was right”

He glanced at the image of the baby that was replayed on the screen “Who’s the father”

“I don’t know, I woke up from a drunken night in some guys bed. I was so ashamed I left before he woke up” Barbara lied

Jim nodded “I see.” He was quiet “I’ll help you through this” he assured than a smile formed on his face “Hey I’m going to have a grandson. Another Gordon right?”

Barbara flashed her father a smile as she mentally though “And another Grayson”

#Dickbabs #dick grayson #nightwing #barbara gordon #batgirl #DickBabs fanfiction #batman #dinah lance #batfamily headcanons #batfam fanfiction #batfam imagine #Jason Todd #red hood

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huhguessimbrokenthen-blog · 5 years

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Does anyone have resources on Ehlers Danlos that are easy(er) to understand?

I have read the NHS and CDC webpages and some medical studies, but I still don’t think I have very adequate research/understanding of what EDS really entails.

I am going to post (hopefully coherently) below why I ask:

So I figure skate competitively, I’m not very high level and I mostly do showcase skating, but I’m still on the ice many hours a week. As a kid and still now I snow ski, rock climb, backpack, hike, and be outdoorsy. At figure skating and then at a summer camp we both went to, I met my best friend. Both his parents are doctors. As a little kid (4-6 probably) I basically spent my time in car rides when I wasn’t talking doubling numbers starting at 3 because I liked 6 (3,6,12,24,48,96,182) and also bending my fingers because it’s fun. As you do, normal children things. So best friend and I had already talked about the numbers and how they’re fun, but then I was over at his house at his birthday celebration thingy and we were outside on the patio and his parents were inside in the kitchen with one of their friends over (who is also my doctor now, she’s really nice and my best friends mom recommended her to me because she is the head of a heath clinic and I didn’t have a doctor because the old one I had I didn’t like and she didn’t follow through). My friend and his brother and I were outside and I somehow got on the thing of how I can bend my left index finger all the way back to the back of my left hand, and all my other fingers bend back (but it’s actually right below my finger that also bends backwards) and so I was doing that because it’s fun and it freaks people out but I think it is fun! So my best friend told me I should go inside and show his parents (because they’re doctors) because he wanted to see their reaction. (He has made me show his parents things in the past because I have scoliosis that’s somewhere around 45 upper curve 50 lower curve, so my hips are off centre and when I bend down to touch my toes/the ground you can r e a l l y see how much my spine curves; his parents already knew about my scoliosis— I had to wear a brace at night for it as a kid, I’ve been to physical therapy, and I have been told I’ll have to have surgery to fix it, also it kind of always hurts but sometimes it varies in intensity and also I don’t care anymore because the only fix is alleve/Tylenol/ibuprofen or surgery, since things are a bit too crazy busy for pt. Anyways my bone snake is a curvy boi). Naturally they informed me I shouldn’t be able to do that and expect my finger, then my best friend’s dad said “yeah well you have some sort of connective tissue disorder, don’t you?” And I went “noo… not that I’ve ever heard of at least.” What followed next was essentially three doctors t-posing around me, my wingspan is more inches than my height (which I pointed out was because my spine curved so I would be taller which they said was a good point) and also apparently my skin is more stretchy than it should be, and they told me then that I had some connective tissue disorder.

Then recently I had a doctor appointment with doctor that I met before and she said yeah you probably have that and said it was probably ehlers danlos which I had herd of and actually did a school project on once I think and so she said that she decided to order an echocardiogram for me and also contact the optometrist (I’m v e r y nearsighted but also so is my dad so that’s just genes, I know that one) and then after they’d do a genetic test. The echocardiogram is just to make sure nothing is wrong with my heart— I think it is good as I am athletic my blood pressure is always low but it is low in the healthy range but she still wants to make sure. She then went to talk to her supervisor (it’s a teaching health clinic) and he confirmed what she thought and he told her good job catching it and she said it wasn’t hard, then I showed him my bendy fingers and he left. Then she gave me a blue lab form for to do bloodwork (to have it on file for something unrelated to connective tissues or my spine curve) and she put it in my notes of the health app thingy that they have that I should research Ehlers Danlos. (She said it was my homework).

That is how I am here asking, also my bloodwork was good, the cardiology place called to schedule an appointment and I have to call them back now, and I haven’t told my dad about this.

So, does anyone have any resources I can look up to learn more? (I definitely have really mild symptoms but I mean that would explain the hurt and such)

#eds #ehlers danlos #scoliosis #ehlers danlos problems #ehlers danlos syndrome #eds zebra #why is the mascot of eds a zebra? i honestly dont know #ehlers danlos life

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beatyoutothepunchline · 5 years

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On Art Museums and Irrational Fears

Needles, public speaking, oblivion, and visual art are my greatest fears. Not one is scarier than the other, on a scale of one to ten they are all a ten. They are rotated through in each moment when my demise seems most imminent. When I visit the doctor’s office and I’m told I’m going to need bloodwork done, needles go to the top of my list. Seconds before I have to give a speech or a presentation, I realize just how important the opinions are of thirty people I barely know. Oblivion is inevitable, in life, in work, in art, and I think nothing is quite as beautiful or significant if we aren’t constantly fearing it. As for visual art, well... as I stood outside the Chicago Art Institute a few weeks back, I debated my fear once again before taking a deep breath and walking in. I feel emotionally impaired when looking at things I can’t comprehend. Especially, when those things don’t abide by the rules of logic and fact. Art, for example-- the really good kind, the kind that makes you go creating answers for unanswerable questions--is downright one of the most terrifying things I know. But it’s also the reason that if I’m given the opportunity to look at something that scares me, I will skip a Field Museum or the Adler Planetarium and go to the place with the thing I fear most. Okay, weird way to start an essay, but since this is a paper on curiosity and I'm curious: Why did you decide to bite the bullet on this one and go look at art if it freaks you out so much? And the answer to that is perspective. One thing more frightening than maybe all my stupid fears is this idea I’m trapped in seeing things one way. There’s a great quote in the film Dead Poets Society where John Keating (Robin Williams) says, “I stand upon my desk to remind myself that we must constantly look at things in a different way.” Because as artists it’s true. It’s far too easy to settle into a style. We find our voice, we write in it, live by it and bleed for it, creating something entirely our own in doing so. But I think the reason lots of art students never become "artists" is that we allow ourselves to put that final nail in our coffin the moment we stop trying to find new ways of seeing the world. Because with finding our voice we also find a formula to a momentary success, which is the worlds cheapest drug and shortest high. If we use it too much, we become dependent on our own opinions, drain ourselves of all our blood and we will start to question the point of what we’re doing. Without ever trying to gain a new perspective of the world around us, we’ve allowed ourselves to be consumed by oblivion. So I force myself to do things like take surrealism classes, continuously watch avant-garde films and occasionally make an ass out of myself by going to an art museum. Not so I can go drink wine when I’m older and act as a museum tour guide for people at parties, telling them everything they couldn’t see by reading the caption on the side of a painting, but to challenge my own perspective by indulging my fear and fascination. After wandering around for a while, I decided to go look at the Impressionists. None of the art in the exhibit seemed so abstract I couldn’t understand what I was looking at it, but it also wasn’t something that I could definitely say, “That’s what that’s supposed to mean.” Impressionism is perfect because “it’s an artistic style that seeks to capture a feeling or experience through the shifting effect of light and color.” It is rough and personal. Good Will Hunting, another fantastic Robin Williams movie, shows this idea in a scene where Sean (Williams) and Will (Matt Damon) are sitting on a park bench talking after Will told Sean that his wife’s painting is “shit.” Understandably Sean isn’t happy by the remark but it leads to a discussion between the two bringing them together, “If I asked you about art, you'd probably give me the skinny on every art book ever written. Michelangelo, you know a lot about him. Life's work, political aspirations, him and the pope, sexual orientations, the whole works, right? But I'll bet you can't tell me what it smells like in the Sistine Chapel. You've never actually stood there and looked up at that beautiful ceiling.”Stephen Asma does a great job of defining this in his piece, 'Monsters on the Brain: An Evolutionary Epistemology of Horror.' “Why does art communicate, explore, and even reprogram values better than science? Because art is a secret language that speaks directly to the limbic system. Art doesn’t just tell us about emotional conflicts or clashes of values, it actually speaks directly to our effective system—bypassing the discursive rationality. Art triggers the emotions in us directly, it doesn’t represent them to us. The story of a novel or a film may be a representation of another place and time, but the emotional content is a direct infection in Tolstoy’s sense ‘powerful art should “infect” the audience with specific emotional content’ it is not a representation of a feeling,” but cognition of that feeling. Jean Claude Monet and Vincent van Gogh were the two artists in the exhibit that stuck out to me the most. In a number of paintings featured (‘Waterloo Bridge’ and ‘Sunlight Effect’), the context of the painting was fairly evident upon looking at it. Meaning and emotion are not in the formal analysis, but the contextual. Who was the person who made it and why? In a Writing and Rhetoric class a few weeks back we discussed how words and images tell a story and how often the two are unbalanced. We were asked to analyze two pieces of work. It wasn’t anything big, the first thing we looked at was Kevin Carter's Pulitzer Prize-winning photograph from Sudan, showing a small child huddled on the ground in the sun, with a vulture looming over her. At first glance, our class described everything we saw at the moment which the photos was taken, slowly working our way out to the unseen questions like, Who is taking the photo? Was this staged? Where are this child’s parents? The further we asked, the more our perspective shifted. We went from artists to concerned observers, to critics of ethics and humanity, people who were sickened by the idea that no one ever found out what happened to that kid. The photographer, Kevin Carter, ended up killing himself from guilt and the overall and underlying lesson of the day was that we no longer knew what to think. The second piece that we looked at was, oddly enough, Vincent Van Gogh's ‘Wheatfield with Crows’ finished in July 1890. Van Gogh had become obsessed with "the immense plain against the hills, boundless as the sea, delicate yellow.” Captivated by the fields in May when the wheat was young and green. The weather worsened in July, and he wrote to a friend that the "vast fields of wheat under troubled skies," adding that he did not "need to go out on (his) way to try and express sadness and extreme loneliness.” This not only plagued the paintings dark and dreary sky but also Van Gough's mind. It was the last painting he did before killing himself. Okay less about fear and more so about perspective, but why? Fear seems like the easiest thing to draw curiosity from, so why does it change our perception and our constantly changing perspective through impressionism and other forms of art?” I think about how I often have no idea what I’ve written until after I’ve written it. I go into writing with an idea before a theme of it all will kind of come together in the end. I guess that's what I'm curious about. How do we go into writing papers or walking around museums with this idea we know what we're talking about only to end up walking out of these places more uncertain than before? Stephen Asma’s article, 'Monsters on the Brain' gives reasoning behind this. “The point is that these emotional responses are not instincts in the sense of pre-wired or genetically engraved responses. The effective systems are ancient in the sense that they have many homologies with nonhuman animals, but in our individual lives they are idiosyncratically assigned and have significant plasticity. Emotional tendencies and values can help us make fast appropriate responses to environmental challenges, but they can also be retrained or re-educated.” How perspective is developed through our impressions coming into something, gaining information, and our immediate reaction through our emotions is something I never considered as a type of curiosity. Walking out of the Art Institute, I realized I still didn’t fully grasp this idea that our lens is not only used in a form of art but as something that can be manipulated through constant change of what we’re told. Learning. And in that aspect, it is a reassuring sign that my fears, however much I don’t like them, are trivial. Because from a different perspective a needle is something you fix things with, in a crowd of people who are too concerned with their own opinions the person grading you is probably the only one listening, art is a delicate balance of pictures and their context, and oblivion is only inevitable so long as you chose not to see it.

#essays #theblondefiasco #writing

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master-sass-blast · 5 years

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Strong as Stone --Part Forty-One

Wow, this just flowed out of me.

Last time: We got to see the end of Thanos! Nebula killed him! The world was saved! Fuck yeah!

This time: things take a turn for the better --and the surprising.

Rating: T for nightmares, doctor’s appointments, and stress.

Oh, and mentions of pregnancy. *waggles eyebrows*

Pairings: M’Baku x Okoye, Shuri x OC, and T’Challa x Nakia.

@skysynclair19, @the-last-hair-bender

Death is not an end, only a transformation. Destruction is not an end, only an opportunity to rebuild. Even the future is not an end to the present, because all the future is the coming moment.

Look for beginnings, my dears, not ends. Some of the most beautiful flowers grow among the ashes of what we once knew.

The air smelled like blood and death. Screams carried on the wind, human and alien alike.

Keep moving. Keep moving. Keep moving.

One kill, another kill, and another, and again. Again. Again. An impenetrable sea of black limbs and mouths and teeth, pressing in on her until she was suffocating.

Keep moving. Keep moving. Keep moving.

He stood above it all, massive and terrifying as he parted the waters of death and destruction. His smile was cold, cruel, as he lifted his hand to let the sunlight catch on the gauntlet sitting there.

Every instinct in her told her to freeze, to make herself small in the sight of this monster.

Keep moving. Keep moving. Keep moving.

The stones glowed for a single, horrible moment, and then he snapped his fingers.

The world exploded into ash. Faces and bodies --friends, family--dissolved into the wind, falling away like distant memories.

T’Challa. Shuri. Dewani. Aneka. Ayo. M’Baku.

She screamed, over and over as they faded away again and again and again--

And then the scene changed, and it wasn’t her new family she was screaming for, but the old one. Two bodies laying in a field, bloodied and mangled in the wake of an explosion.

She was alone, surrounded by smoke and ash.

Always ash.

I can’t breathe--

“Okoye! ‘Koye, wake up!”

She came to with a sob, hands shaking and sweaty in the still darkness of the pre-dawn.

M’Baku’s arms were already around her as he pressed his lips against the top of her head, her forehead, her cheeks, the bridge of her nose. “It was just a dream, ‘koye. Just a dream.”

She trembled in his arms, trying --and failing--to not cry. “I keep seeing everyone die! It’s the King, then the Princess, and Dewani, and Ayo, and you, and then it’s just my parents, and--”

“It’s okay, it’s okay. It’s just a dream. It’ll take a whole lot more than some over-sized purple idiot with his head up his own ass to take me away from you.”

She let out a thready laugh. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“I’m not.”

“But I lost you, just like I lost my parents. I lost Ayo, Aneka, half my team, my friends. Everywhere I go in life I just keep losing--”

“And you saved them. You saved me.”

“But I can’t always save everyone.”

“You don’t have to.” He kissed her temple. “Thanos was a once in a lifetime opponent, and he’s dead. I seriously doubt there’s anything else in the universe that could manage what he did.”

She sniffed and wiped at her cheeks with the back of her hand. “You don’t know that.”

“I don’t have to. If I spend every day worrying about what could fall out of the sky, I’ll miss what’s right in front of me.”

She sighed. “I know, I know, it just--”

“It hits deep for you, ‘koye. I know it does.” He pressed a series of kisses against her knuckles. “You’ll find your feet again. I know you will.”

“Not without a lot of falling on my ass first,” she grumbled bitterly.

“That’s just a part of life.” Another kiss on her temple. “And I’ll be right by your side to help you back up when you do.”

She sighed, somewhat soothed, and tucked her face into the crook of his neck. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

She tried to go back to sleep, really tried, but was too wired to get anywhere. The dream, albeit gone, still lingered in the corners of her mind, along with a certain itch at the base of her gut. An ache.

A need.

“Are you still awake?”

“Yeah. You alright?”

By way of response, she started kissing his neck, trailing kisses up his skin until she reached his mouth.

He kissed her back with the same intensity, the same heat she’d kissed him with. He drew her up in his arms, clutching her against his chest before rolling and positioning her underneath him.

She clung to the massive span of his shoulders, to him. “Please. Please, please, please--”

“It’s alright,” he murmured as he pressed his lips against her jaw. “I’ve got you.”

She shivered as he moved his lips lower and wrapped her legs around his hips. He always does.

It was Ayo who’d noticed first. The headaches, the dizziness, the stomach problems that wouldn’t go away. “Maybe you picked something up from the Avengers when they helped us defeat Thanos. Or maybe it’s something from the Soul Stone realm, or from where Thanos was hiding.”

Okoye sincerely hoped it was the first option. A mild flu or virus, she could deal with.

Some sort of supernatural or extraterrestrial infection, though? Nope. That was well out of her league.

Either way, it didn’t change where she wound up: sitting on a chair in an exam room in a private medicinal practice reserved for the Dora Milaje and the War Dogs. The practice itself specialized in physical illnesses from the outside world not common to Wakanda, and Okoye felt confident that whatever she’d picked up could be easily dealt with.

The door to the exam room swung open, and a diminutive woman with dreadlocks that hung down her back and clear, bright eyes nodded at her. “General. What brings you to us today?”

“I think I picked up something while working with the Avengers,” Okoye started before she outlined her symptoms. “I’ve been dealing with them for a few weeks now, and nothing seems to help.”

The doctor nodded as she took her notes, then frowned thoughtfully as she looked through Okoye’s file. “You wouldn’t happen to be overdue for your contraceptive shot, would you?”

Okoye froze. “I --what?”

“All the symptoms you described combined together are a dead match for the early onset of pregnancy, General. And... ah, as I thought, you are overdue for the shot. The appointment was scheduled during the midst of the Thanos crisis; that’s probably why you missed one.”

Okoye blinked. She’d been prepared for some sort of illness, maybe even a deadly extraterrestrial disease, but... Pregnant? Could I really be pregnant?

“Have you engaged in unprotected vaginal intercourse in the past few weeks that resulted in ejaculation? Have you noticed any irregularities in your menstrual cycle, or any odd spotting?”

Her period wasn’t that far off, and she’d definitely been stressed enough to set it back a week or so, and as far as sex...

Well, near death situations did make for fantastic reunion sex.

“Fuck. I mean, I have--”

The doctor smirked and nodded. “We’ll do some bloodwork and test for pregnancy and a few viruses that would also match those symptoms. If nothing comes back, we’ll do some more specific tests, alright?”

It’s not like she had a reason to refuse. The best approach to this is to be practical, she told herself as the doctor left to send a phlebotomist in. Panic won’t help anything.

The blood was drawn and the phlebotomist left, and then she didn’t have anything else to distract herself with.

Focus on your breathing, she told herself as she felt her irritation with the unknown start to creep up her spine. You and M’Baku have already talked about and planned on having kids. And you don’t even know if you’re pregnant or not. There’s no point in freaking out when you don’t even have all the information--

A knock on the door sounded, and then the doctor was walking back in. “You’re pregnant.”

Well... shit.

“You’re back early.” Ayo arched an eyebrow as she watched Okoye move around her office. “I thought they gave mandatory time off for the flu.”

“I don’t have the flu.”

“Mono, strep, whatever--”

“I’m pregnant, Ayo.”

At a different point in time, the look of sheer, unadulterated shock on Ayo’s face might’ve been laughter worthy. “Well... okay.” The Commander gave her a careful look. “Is this a ‘congratulations’ situation, or a ‘I’d give you wine if you weren’t growing a baby’ situation?”

That did make her laugh, just a little. “M’Baku and I were talking about having kids, only after Dewani’s trial. And it’s so soon after Thanos, and--” She sighed. “I’m just really tired.”

“I’ve heard that can be one of the side effects.”

“Oh, fuck off. You know what I mean.”

Ayo smirked. “It’s a lot, back to back.”

Okoye nodded, then sighed. “I need to head to the Jabari lands to tell M’Baku. I don’t want to wait, or have him find out from someone else--”

“Go. I’ve got you covered here.”

“Thank you.”

“Anytime.” Ayo was quiet for a moment, then stepped forward and wrapped her arms around her best friend in a hug. “Congratulations, Okoye.”

She smiled --finally--and hugged her back. “Thank you.”

She had to keep herself from sprinting into the Great Lodge when she finally landed in the main courtyard. You’re going to have to start taking it easier. May as well practice it now.

She might’ve power-walked, just a little. She was too keyed up from the flight to take things slow.

O’Chenga furrowed his brow when he saw her walk into the lodge. “General. Not that I’m not happy to see you, but why are you here? Is something wrong in the lower lands?”

She shook her head. “I need to speak with M’Baku. Immediately. It’s a... personal emergency.”

He regarded her for a moment, then nodded. “He’s in a meeting, but I imagine he’ll clear everyone out when he realizes you’re here.”

She followed him to the throne room, fighting the urge to activate her spear and carry it with her. This isn’t a fight. You don’t need a weapon.

She’d known different soldiers to sleep with various weapons or armor pieces for comfort; she’d never thought of herself as the type to assign those sentiments to a sharpened piece of metal.

“Wait out here,” O’Chenga said. “I’ll let him know that you’re here and it’s urgent. Come in once the advisers start leaving.”

She did as told, keeping to the shadows when the doors to the throne room opened. She could hear M’Baku’s voice, hear the pause in conversation as O’Chenga walked in and made his way to the throne--

“I need you all to excuse yourselves for a moment. An urgent matter has arisen that needs my direct attention.”

She waited until various advisers started leaving, then slipped past them and into the throne room.

“What do you mean she didn’t say--”

“She just said it was a personal emergency, and I figured if it was urgent enough for her to fly up here unannounced that you’d want to see her,” O’Chenga said. “She’s here now; you can ask her yourself. I’ll give you two a moment.”

M’Baku was across the throne room in the blink of an eye, simultaneously holding her close and keeping her at arm’s length so he could inspect her, as though whatever she was dealing with would be visible and easily discerned. “‘Koye, what is it? Are you alright? Why are you here?”

She waited until O’Chenga had closed the doors behind him, then ducked her head and swallowed hard. “I went to the doctor’s today, to see what was wrong with me--”

“Are you sick? Is it serious?”

“No. I mean, it is serious, but I’m not sick.”

“Then what--”

“I’m pregnant, M’Baku.”

He stopped, mid-ramble, and stared down at her. “What --are you sure?”

“They did bloodwork to find out. Unless you doubt the legitimacy of that, there’s no way I’m not pregnant.” She fiddled nervously with the cuff of her coat when he didn’t respond. “It’s yours, if you were wondering.”

“I wasn’t worried about that,” M’Baku said after a moment. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. “I’m worried about why you look so upset. Is there something wrong with the baby? Are the doctors worried about the pregnancy posing a danger to you?”

“No, no, it’s too early to tell any of that and I’m perfectly healthy. I just... we weren’t planning on having kids until after Dewani’s trial. I don’t want her to feel abandoned by us having a kid of our own.”

“If it’s the timing that’s bothering you, we can always terminate and try again later. It’s not like either of us are on our last legs of life.”

She shook her head. “I don’t think we can. This baby is the heir to your title. I don’t think we can terminate the pregnancy, not without everyone flipping their collective shit.”

“Well, how many people know besides the two of us?”

“My physician and Ayo. I... I told her before I came to see you; I needed her to cover for me today.”

M’Baku nodded and kissed her forehead. “Well, the doctor’s bound by patient-doctor confidentiality, and I know Ayo would take the news to her grave and nowhere else if you asked her. If you’re not ready --if you don’t want to keep the baby--then that’s it. It’s your body, Okoye. This is your choice, and I’ll support you either way.”

Relief flowed through her, and she let her forehead rest against his chest. “Thank you.”

“Do you want to? Terminate the pregnancy, that is?”

She thought for a moment, then shook her head with a soft smile. “No. I really do want to keep it. I’ve only known for half a day and I already love them so much. I’m just--”

“Worried about Dewani,” M’Baku finished. “How about we ask her how she feels about it? If she’s fine with it, we keep the baby. If not, we’ll figure things out from there.”

Okoye nodded, feeling more at ease than she had in a while. “That works.”

“Wait. Are you serious? Are you really serious?”

Okoye nodded. “Ye--”

Dewani let out a whoop and pumped her fist. “Fuck yeah! I’m gonna be an aunt!”

M’Baku shushed her with a laugh. “Easy. It’s not common knowledge yet. We wanted to check with you first--”

“Check with me for what? I’m not the one that has to carry it.”

“We wanted to be sure,” Okoye interjected. “That you wouldn’t feel... abandoned if we chose to keep the baby, in light of your trial coming up.”

Dewani blinked, then lunged forward and wrapped her arms around Okoye. “Keep it. Please. It’ll give me something to look forward to for when all this bullshit is over.”

Okoye hugged her back. “We just wanted to be sure.”

“Look, it’s your baby and body. If you want to terminate, terminate, just don’t --don’t do it for me, okay? I’ll be fine.”

“Well, we both want the baby,” Okoye said as she stepped back. “So termination isn’t going to factor in unless it’s a matter of life and death.”

Dewani nodded, then grinned. “Oh, Hanuman, this is so cool. Oh my gosh. I’m gonna teach them so many swear words. Holy shit.”

“You better not,” M’Baku said, grin undercutting the warning tone of his voice.

“Watch me. Anyway, what’s next?”

Okoye sighed. “Well, ‘next’ involves flying back to the capital and alerting the King so I can start delegating different work duties for the better part of the next year... and then telling my friends, I suppose.”

“Can we come with? Can I come with? I wanna see Shuri.”

“I don’t see why not.”

M’Baku jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Go pack us a couple bags. I’ll come with, too.”

“Awesome!”

Okoye chuckled and shook her head as Dewani took off down the hall at a dead sprint. “To be that young again.”

“I’m good with where I’m at.” M’Baku was quiet for a moment, then grinned down at her. “We’re having a baby.”

She grinned back, excitement sweeping through her. “We’re having a baby!” She giggled with him, and smiled with dizzy euphoria when he swept her into his arms and kissed her. We’re having a baby.

After several months of frustration, it was nice to finally have something good.

As it turned out, though, they weren’t the only ones expecting. As soon as she’d informed T’Challa and Nakia of the news --and, inadvertently, Ramonda and Shuri, since they’d been in the room--Nakia had smiled softly and told her that she’d found out she was pregnant earlier that morning as well.

M’Baku had blinked, then looked over at Dewani and said “I’ve never been so grateful that you’re a lesbian until now.”

The room had exploded into cackles of laughter --a welcome sound in the wake of so much stress, loss, and rebuilding.

Aneka and Djabi --along with a few other women--had outright squealed when she’d broken the news to her women, while others had started trading money.

Because there’d been a betting ring going for when she’d get pregnant. Apparently.

She’d been to happy, coasting on the high of ‘having a baby, building a new family of my own’ to really give it much reaction.

Now, though, she was tidying up her office; it needed a good decluttering, anyway, and it was enough of a low impact task that M’Baku was flipping out --as much as he flipped out, anyway--over her doing it.

“I’ve already talked to Princess Shuri,” M’Baku said. “She said she can have the rail system fully functional in four months.”

Okoye nodded as she filed some old mission notes from when they were tracking down Ross into one of the cabinets behind her. “Is it weird that I kind of want to find a new apartment? I’m still happy to stay with you and use the transport system to commute, but I don’t want to stay at the palace when you’re here. I like having a place outside of work in Birnin Zana, and I’ve got more than enough money from Trump’s settlement suit to make it sustainable.”

“That sounds fine to me.” He grinned. “Honestly, I can’t believe this is really happening. I almost feel like I’m dreaming.”

“Want me to pinch you?”

“No, but I can think of several other things I’d like to have you do to me.”

“And here I thought I was supposed to be the one with the hormonal surges.” She smirked, then looked up when someone knocked on the office door. “Come in.”

Aneka walked in, holding a letter marked with the Border tribe insignia. “This just came for you.”

Okoye raised her eyebrows. “Someone sent a physical letter to me?”

Wakanda had a functioning postal system, but most interactions were kept digital for efficiency’s sake. Physical mail was saved for formal functions or letters, and death notices.

“According to the note that came with it, the person who sent it is claiming to be your late mother’s sister.”

She felt her entire world go sideways. After everything she’d been through, it seemed impossible. After all this time... is there really someone left? How’d they even find me?

She could feel M’Baku helping her into a chair, distantly hear him thanking Aneka--

And then he was kneeling in front of her. “Hey. Deep breaths. Everything’s okay.”

“It is,” she agreed quietly. “It’s just... a surprise. A big one.”

He nodded. “I know.” He looked down at the small, crisp envelope in his hand, then back up at her. “What do you want to do with this?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. What do you think I should do?”

He shrugged back. “There’s no harm in checking it out.”

He was right, she decided. If everything turned out to be a bust, she could walk away from whatever --whoever--she found through the letter. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

She took the letter from his hand and opened the envelope.

#sass writes #black panther fanfiction #okoye x m'baku #shuri x oc #t'challa x nakia #i literally started writing this this morning #and it's done before noon #go me!#wakanda forever

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thelightofthingshopedfor · 6 years

Text

cw medical nonsense, also this is long and I would put it behind a cut except mobile

update on confusing health stuff: I got the chest x-rays and additional blood tests on Tuesday, and yesterday after some annoying back-and-forth with my doctor's office I learned that the two slightly high values on the one blood test aren't high enough to be concerning and everything else came back normal, so in conclusion, guess I just have weird fingernails that don't actually mean anything!

and like...obviously, that's good. obviously I don't want a serious health problem in general and I especially don't want one now, and I was able to get the x-rays and blood tests in a way that didn't even cost me a co-pay, so all I ended up losing was the time, irritation, and inconvenience it took to make and go to the x-ray/bloodwork appointment. but I've been annoyed with the doctor and the whole office from the beginning, and the more I think about it, the more pissed I am. she was the one who noticed the fingernail clubbing and then jumped right to lung cancer, and when I said I didn't smoke (which was already on my chart) or spend much time around secondhand smoke, she helpfully reminded me that non-smokers can get lung cancer...instead of, I don't know, asking about other risk factors, or backing off to "well, you say you haven't noticed your fingernails changing and also you have zero symptoms of lung problems, so it's probably nothing or at least definitely not that, but clubbed fingernails can be a symptom of a lot of different potential issues, so let's check it out soon just to be safe". no, instead she continued to be mildly alarmed but still alarmed enough that I was kind of worried despite also thinking it was ridiculous and felt like I'd better get the tests done yesterday, and then that turned into a whole thing because first I had to ask the office two or three times to fax over the orders before they did it right, and then when I tried to make an appointment at the place where I was having it done, we realized we didn't know if it needed to be a fasting blood test or not, so they left a message that my doctor's office never returned, and then I had to call back again multiple times before I could talk to a medical assistant who was like "huh probably not, I guess I'll ask the doctor and get back to you" which took at least a few more hours.

oh and when I emailed them the basic workup from last weekend (which my doctor DID ASK ME TO DO) and said "please call or text me at [number] so I know you got this," did anyone actually do that? LOL NO THEY DID NOT, I had to ask about it specifically, and then there was endless confusion between the basic panel I got at the health fair last weekend and the very specific ones my doctor ordered, so even when they got back to me with the results, there was YET MORE "oh huh I don't know what that means, well here are some facts I almost definitely just Googled, oh you want to know what the doctor actually thinks about this thing that she asked you to send and should have already expressed an opinion about, well let me talk to the doctor again and call you back". and by the end of it I was just like...okay, so...the doctor who noticed the clubbed fingernails and was worried enough that I spent several days also being a little worried because I figured it couldn't be lung cancer but my very basic Google research combined with my Google research on the two slightly high values in my first blood test indicated it could well be something else serious...is now basically going "welp results are all fine so I guess you just have weird fingernails! lol nvm"? really? she was being irresponsibly alarmist about a very specific (and, in the context of me having NO RISK FACTORS, very unlikely) possible problem enough to scare me, and now it's a big shrug that you couldn't even care about enough to be really thorough with whatever you put in my chart for the medical assistant to tell me? THANKS. THANKS BUNCHES. GOOD THING I APPROACHED IT MORE CAUTIOUSLY THAN YOU DID OR I WOULD'VE SPENT THE LAST SEVERAL DAYS BEING EVEN MORE FREAKED OUT THAN I WAS.

oh but you know what the best part is, I figured lung cancer was ridiculous because, again, NO CIGARETTE SMOKE and also NO SYMPTOMS, but I looked it up anyway and yes, not only do I have no symptoms, I also have none of the risk factors for nonsmokers (bad air pollution, exposure to radon or asbestos, family history). so I did some more research on clubbed fingernails in general, and from photos and diagrams I wasn't convinced they even were clubbed but on the other hand maybe they were just beginning to show signs so maybe it was still a concern? and, well, lung cancer definitely still seemed ridiculous but apparently it can indicate a wide variety of possible problems, mostly with the heart or lungs. but here is the thing though, even Wikipedia said that clubbed fingernails are not an indicator of any one specific thing, they're just a potential indicator of a wide variety of possible issues, so you cannot look at that and go "gasp! clubbed fingernails = specific health problem such as lung cancer!" in the same way that like...mild fatigue could be a symptom of a billion different health issues at varying levels of seriousness or it could just mean you need to go to bed earlier. but, BUT, according to Snopes, just a few months ago a story went viral about this girl who posted a photo of her weird-looking fingernails on Facebook and discovered she had lung cancer, and I'm convinced that's why my doctor went "!!!LUNG CANCER!!!" instead of FIRST LOOKING AT THE ACTUAL CONTEXT. which is especially ridiculous because the more typical situation is, you know, patient finds something online, freaks out, tells doctor, and doctor has to tell them "yeah it's probably nothing, viral stories aren't a great source of medical info, but we can do some tests to be sure" instead of LITERALLY THE OTHER WAY AROUND. and maybe it's unfair of me but I can't help thinking, okay, this whole office is an explicitly Christian practice, which means the people who work there probably watch Fox News, which also means they're more likely to take alarmist stuff at face value.

in some ways it's probably just as well; I've been vaguely meaning to find a new GP for ages, I just kept going to this place because I started when my parents took me there as a teenager and even as I started getting mildly uncomfortable with going there and stopped seeing my therapist there, I did still like my specific doctor and it was easier to keep seeing her than to find somebody new. but she doesn't work there anymore, and now I've got this new-to-me doctor who pissed me off, so...good incentive to find somebody else.

#medical stuff

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samwpmarleau · 6 years

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Hi, I totally love your Robb/Rhaenys fics, they are so adorable. Would you do a modern AU of them having a baby plz? Thanks !!!

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?”

“I’ll be fine,” she says, huddled beneath a blanket. “I’m sure it’s just another bug. Besides, you need to save up those vacation days. ‘My girlfriend is sick’ isn’t a valid excuse to miss a briefing, babe.”

It warms her heart to hear the doubt in his voice. “Well…call me as soon as it’s over then, okay? It’s not like you to have, what, four colds in the last few weeks? I want to know what they say. The appointment’s at noon, right?”

“Yes, Mom,” she laughs. “I’ll call you after.”

“You’d better,” he says. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Truthfully, she’s more worried than she’s let on. Even though she’d been assured long ago that her mother’s condition isn’t congenital, Robb’s concern has long been hers, too. It isn’t like her to get so sick so often, not to mention the full-body aches and lack of appetite. She’s always taken after her father and Uncle Oberyn, only coming down with something once a year at most. Even worse, she can’t even blame it on someone from the newsroom, since she’s the only one who’s been afflicted.

Maybe it’s nothing, but the thoughts still plague her. What if she goes in to find out that she has inherited her mother’s illness after all? Or a different one entirely? What if it’s not just a run of bad luck?

Knowing having a panic attack would help exactly no one, she turns to her favorite distraction. She opens her laptop to the half-finished investigative piece she was supposed to get to her editor yesterday, sifting through source after source, trying to cull the fibs from the truth, the verifiable authorities versus the crooked ones. It infuriates her, as always, how utterly soulless people can be, but at least it keeps her occupied.

For now.

Her mother is a trauma surgeon, not a GP, but she’s also the only one Rhaenys truly trusts to provide a true diagnosis with neither pity nor sugarcoating. What didn’t help is that Elia had told her it was indeed unusual for her to be feeling so miserable, and to then order bloodwork. She said she doubted it was anything of note, but as long as insurance was covering it, there’s no harm in getting peace of mind.

And so here she is, biting her nails as she waits for the tests to come back. It’s not her first time in a hospital, not even her hundredth time, yet she’s never felt so on-edge before. The clock is ticking too loud, the smell of antiseptic nauseates her, the lights are overbright. Finally, when she can hardly stand the waiting anymore, her mother enters again.

“Well, I was right, it’s nothing to worry about. In fact, you deserve congratulations.” A brilliant smile grows on Elia’s face. “You’re pregnant, honey.”

Apprehension growing, Rhaenys takes the paper and reads the text written there. Most of it is filed with acronyms she doesn’t understand, but one word stands out all too clearly among the rest: POSITIVE.

“No,” she says numbly. “There has to be a mistake.”

Elia laughs. “I had them run it twice. There’s no mistake.”

“No,” Rhaenys repeats. “Robb and I–we always use protection, both of us. This isn’t possible.”

“It’s not common, but these things do happen,” says Elia. “Birth control isn’t infallible, sweetheart.”

“B-But–how am I supposed to tell him?”

“You’re the only one who can answer that question. Just remember that the longer you wait, the harder it will be.” Elia squeezes her shoulder gently. “I’m going to have Arthur take you home, all right? He was going to meet me for lunch, but I don’t want you driving yourself back.”

Rhaenys nods, as though she’s not about two seconds from a breakdown. “All right.”

It’s clear from her stepfather’s face that it’s killing him to not know what’s going on, but he doesn’t press. Rather, he chooses to ramble on about this or that, and she’s grateful for it. It means she can focus on his steady voice, not the mess of thoughts that are jumbling up her head. The ride seems far shorter than usual, and before she knows it, he’s walking her to her door.

“I can stay,” he offers.

“No, I just need to think.”

He looks like he wants to object, but she suspects her mother had advised him against that. “Okay. But I’m just a phone call away if you need anything.”

Somehow, she manages a fleeting smile, and pecks him on the cheek. “I know you are. Thanks.”

The apartment is eerily silent as she bids Arthur goodbye and slumps down on the couh, the medical report still clutched tightly in her fist. She reads over it again and again, yet the text doesn’t change, nor does the memory of how certain her mother had been. She places a shaking hand on her stomach, trying to fathom the fact that there’s a tiny life growing inside her. She’d always wanted kids someday, but someday is a world apart from now. Robb had talked about wanting kids, too, but they’d never really talked about having them together. They’d been so careful for exactly that reason. With her having so many leads to track down and Robb just as busy at the precinct, the timing couldn’t be worse.

Her fears go round and round and round, threatening to overwhelm her, and then the door bursts open. She glances up, expecting to see Arthur perhaps, but on the contrary, it’s Robb standing there, equal parts perturbed and anxious.

She has the presence of mind to glance at the clock, and yes, he should most definitely not be home yet. “What are you doing here?”

“You said you’d call me after your appointment,” he accuses. “You didn’t. I was worried.”

“You up and left–?”

“Rhaenys, what happened?” he asks. “What’d they say?”

“I’m not going to die,” she says, to assuage the worst of the possibilities she knows are occurring to him. “I’m…well, you can read it for yourself.”

She’d hoped for a more eloquent explanation, but now that Robb’s here, it’s like dawn has broken over the horizon as she realizes she doesn’t have to bear this news alone. He frowns in confusion as he takes the paper from her–and as he reads, the color drains from his face.

“This is for real?” he asks weakly. “You’re…?”

“Yes. Mom gave me the results herself.” He’s quiet, unusually quiet, and after several minutes of it, she can’t bear it anymore. “Say something, please. I’m freaking out over here.”

Abruptly, he drops the sheet on the table and disappears into their bedroom. Her heart drops; out of all the scenarios she’d envisioned, she hadn’t thought he would just ignore her. But then he emerges again, and as if in slow motion she watches as he walks over and drops to one knee in front of her. A ring rests in his outstretched palm, bright yellow citrine bound in gold.

Her grandmother’s ring.

It’s all wrong.

She’s dreamt of him proposing since their first date. A quiet night in, no frills, just sweatpants and spontaneity, maybe with some lame HGTV show in the background. Not this. She’d never wanted to be presented with a ring solely because she carries his child.

“Robb,” she warns, “if this is only because–”

“Elia gave it to me three months ago,” he interrupts. “I just haven’t been able to find the right moment to ask you. Now I’ve found it.”

Three months, she marvels. She hadn’t ever envisioned this, either. Acceptance of the news, maybe, but not a proposal to go along with it. Not an unconditional commitment. Yet that’s exactly what this is, and for the first time since she’d entered the hospital, her head clears.

“So ask me.”

He looks up at her, more nervous than she’s ever seen him. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” she says. “Yes, I will marry you.”

He waits just long enough to slide the ring onto her finger before he kisses her, sweet and soft and full of promise.

#rhaenys targaryen #robb stark #robb x rhaenys #asoiaf #gotfic #my fic #compliance: modern au #anonymous

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baronvontribble · 6 years

Text

Original drabble, pt. 7

Navigation: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

looool

Faking a cough and telling his boss that he needed a few days off was easy. Writing an email to the his contact down the pipeline and telling them that he'd need a few weeks was much, much harder. The wording had to be just right; they didn't really have specific codephrases or anything, but they never said anything outright either. He went through several drafts before finally settling on one that he was satisfied with.

em-

gonna have 2 postpone that lunch date downtown this weekend. got a helluva leak & the landlord wont do shit so im gonna have to fix it myself. will hit u up when i have the time again

-marshmallow

ps: ill pay for ur train tickets dont worry

He leaned back in his chair and stared at it, letting out a nervous breath. "That'll work, right?"

"It looks appropriately misleading to me," Adam said.

"Emily's a smart kid, I've worked with her before. She should be able to pick up on it." Ted folded his arms and continued to stare at the message. "And hopefully it'll just look like I'm postponing a date with an out-of-town girlfriend to anyone else."

"I noticed it's a different email than the one tied to your phone."

"Always has been. I've got what, five different emails now?" He shifted in his seat, joints creaking from spending too long in his computer chair. He hadn't really moved too much since that morning, and it was well past noon by then. He'd been making sure he could deliver on what he'd promised. "The phone's the weakest link. Thing is, the messenger's the only thing installed on it, and no one in the pipeline uses that particular app for messaging since it's dated as shit. Mom uses it, but that's about it, and I doubt she's gonna rat me out even if she finds out what I do."

"How can you be sure of that?"

Ted smirked. "She works at a hospital that's run almost entirely by robots. Divorced my dad over it being a good idea to do shit like that to begin with. I'm pretty sure I know what side of the fence she's on with the whole AI thing."

"I see." That was all he had to say on that, apparently. After that little freak-out earlier, Adam didn't seem to be in all that wordy of a mood. But then, he was busy trying to tag still images with what he saw in them in another tab, so Ted wasn't about to hold it against him.

Well, it wasn't like Ted lacked for conversation topics. "How's it going so far? The tagging, I mean."

"Badly." A few seconds later he broke his non-chatty streak to elaborate, "I'm going by colors for now. I opened up a second page that helps me match hexadecimal codes to both specific and generic color names, but that's usually as far as I get. It doesn't help that lighting seems to have an effect on what appearance a given base color might take."

And the dumbass was probably sampling those colors pixel by pixel, too. Using brute processing force was one way to master the process, Ted supposed.

"Don't feel bad if it takes a while. You'll get the hang of it."

"You sound way too amused by this."

"Who, me? Never. I'm the very essence of stoicism."

Adam had a smile in his voice when he spoke again. "Liar."

"Yeah, alright. You caught me." Ted stretched out in his chair and stifled a yawn, joints popping as they flexed beyond where they probably should. "I'm just happy you're figuring it out. I mean, even just realizing that you can cross-reference is a step in the right direction."

"It would be easier if I knew what I was looking at."

"Want me to help?" Partway through the process of typing his email, Ted had realized that the help he could offer might not be so well-received. He didn't want to make things harder than they already were; he had to be tactful, wait for permission. He couldn't just insert himself into proceedings like he so often did. This was a delicate situation. He knew that now.

Or he could be overthinking it. Adam couldn't quite sigh, but he could portray some semblance of relief in his voice. "I'd appreciate it," he said; a moment later, the laptop had been tabbed in to the correct window so Ted could participate. "Try to restrain yourself from giving bad answers to fuck with me. This data has to be accurate."

"I know, I know." Ted did know. Really. "But gimme a minute, okay? I'm gonna plug in my mouse so I can use it to point things out to you."

"Right."

And so it began.

The images were little more than stock photos, and the 'game' was to tag as many details as possible. Matching up with what other people had tagged it with meant a better score. Ted was observant to a fault, so his results with such things in the past had been mixed at best as he sometimes noticed things that no one ever bothered to tag. This made it all the more viable as a learning tool, because not only was Adam learning what other people tagged the image with and why - seeing what an average person might be able to glean from it - but he was also having the tiny details pointed out to him by someone who was way too anxious to not notice basically everything.

Since the goal was not just to get Adam to be able to notice details, but to also have him act convincingly human while doing so, this gave him a reasonable benchmark for what he could mention he'd noticed to an average person without looking like he had a weirdly photographic memory with the perfect ability to recall anything and everything. To Ted, this was step one. The average person sees a duck in a pond - maybe even identifying the duck as a mallard - while the hyper-observant person sees that it's overcast and around midday from the sky's reflection in the pond's surface or that there's a gum wrapper and a bit of soggy bread clearly visible in the murky water near the detritus-littered shore.

It was the photos of people that were really a nightmare for Adam. For all his ability to pick up on all the tiny nonverbal cues present in an audio recording, he couldn't so much as even guess at gender presentation of random people in stock photos, let alone their expressions or body language. Ted had to walk him through every last detail, and these were the prettiest, most unambiguous sorts of human beings to boot. The photos were dominated by tall, broad men with either lantern jaws or facial hair, and soft, curvy women with round faces and perfect contouring; women had long hair, men had short hair, and children were dressed as either very male or very female to match the adults. Ted found them obnoxious.

And that wasn't even getting into indicators of disability or profession or anything. Just once, he'd like to see more average people pop up in these things. He was downright relieved to get back to pictures of sheep and grass and flowers and buildings and boats whenever he got done with tagging a person. Not-people didn't bother him nearly as much.

Either way, somewhere along the line he lost track of time completely.

"You should eat something," Adam said out of the blue at one point. Ted straightened up in his chair and shot a glance at the clock in the corner of the laptop's screen, only to frown at it like it'd betrayed him.

It was almost three in the afternoon already? Christ. "Probably," he admitted, stretching out with a slight wince. "Feel like you're making progress yet?“

"I don't know. How do you 'feel' progress? It seems like something that should have a clearer definition than to just feel it."

"Hey man, don't knock feelings. They've got definitions, those definitions are just subjective as fuck." Ted was smiling as he said it, mirroring what he'd heard in Adam's own voice. Both of them were joking. Adam knew full well what Ted had meant, he was just taking a jab at the presentation. "Do you think you've made progress so far?"

"Yes." Adam sounded terribly smug, as if to say see? That was all you had to say. "It's slow, but once I know what I'm looking at, it makes things easier."

Ted shoved off from the desk and stood, taking another moment to stretch. "Cool. Then I'm gonna make some pizza rolls."

Off he went. "Those are bad for you," Adam said as he wandered off. "Humans need nutrients. Pizza rolls are not nutritious."

"Don't care," Ted replied. Along with the pizza rolls, he made sure to retrieve a soda out of the fridge as well just to be contrary. It was hard to care about minor health hazards when he so often had major ones to worry about, and people telling him that he probably should care only made him less likely to do so. "It's calories. It'll work as a stand-in for lunch until I get to dinner."

"I don't think that's how nutrition works." Several seconds passed as Ted wrestled with the packaging, got a plate, and put everything in the microwave.

"Ted. I looked it up. This isn't food, Ted. It has about the same value as eating cardboard."

"Ayep." Ted cracked open the soda and took a swig as he turned on the microwave and let it spin.

"Do you do this often?"

Ted snorted. "Uh, do you really want me to answer that question?"

"According to this site, when the potential long-term effects of such a poor diet are combined with your outward symptoms - such as being the wrong color for a human - it's a strong indicator that your kidneys are probably failing." Adam spoke as if he felt he was the absolute voice of authority on this, and Ted shook with silent laughter as he leaned against the counter. "I think you should get bloodwork done."

"Dude." Good God, what kind of website had Adam even managed to find? Ted felt like he was talking to his grandparents after they'd spent three hours on an online medical journal and decided he looked like he had some obscure genetic disorder that would give him pulmonary fibrosis (whch he didn't). "That 'being the wrong color' thing? It's genetic. I have practically no pigmentation. It's not gout or scurvy or whatever the hell you've found on the internet, just albinism and shitty lighting."

Silence reigned for at least ten full seconds. "I see."

"I take vitamins, alright? And I know my diet isn't all that great, but it's not like pizza rolls are all I eat." He was about to say something about how Adam had seen him eat other things, but then he remembered that Adam couldn't actually see all that well. "Besides, if there was something in my bloodwork, my doctor woulda told me last time I had a checkup. See, unlike some humans, I get those pretty regularly."

"Right." Then, "I'm sorry."

"What for, man? I'm not mad. Hell, at least you care." He'd take a little overworrying anyday if it meant someone was at least trying to understand his problems. It was kinda cute. Big tough super high-tech AI worrying about a squishy human. "And y'know, if you wanna know what's actually wrong with me, all you gotta do is ask."

The microwave beeped, and Adam considered. "You'd tell me that?"

"I tell people all the time."

"No, that's not-" He cut himself off mid-rendering, and Ted raised an eyebrow over in the direction of the living room while pulling the pizza rolls out of the microwave. "Isn't that like telling me how your code is written?"

Huh. Ted had never thought of it that way. "Not really. It's more like, uh... I guess I figure that telling you what versions of what software is running isn't exactly going to give you access to any of the passwords protecting my data, but it will tell you how to work with what I've got going on." Was that an accurate analogy? This barrier to understanding really did go both ways.

The fans weren't quite roaring, but they were definitely humming away audibly in the background; it was always so easy to tell when Adam was mulling something over. "Yes, I would like to know. If that's all right."

"Fine by me." With a plate in one hand and a drink in the other, Ted came back to the not-a-desk and plopped right back down in his chair. "For starters, look up Ehlers-Danlos syndrome."

A minute later Adam asked him how the hell he was alive, and he almost breathed a mouthful of pizza roll.

#no one cares andy #original characters #original writing #robot and marshmallow

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