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durrtydawg · 7 months

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hey gorl! idk how cereal you were about headcanons, but can i request something domestic? like what the uncharted boys are like when they're at home and not treasure hunting for once? (can be as clean/dirty as you like hehe)

Hey lovely! Thanks for waiting for so long, and sorry if this isn't what you had in mind, but I've spewed some domestic Sam headcanons into my notes that I think about too often. A lot of them are very random, so if you want something more specific, please let me know 👹❤️

I started writing Nate, too, but honestly, if you want some good Nate hcs, you should ask @nathandrakeisabottom bc she's gonna have them done to a T.

[Masterlist]

Without further ado,

Domestic Sam Drake Headcanons...

Sam likes to rotate his 'at-home wardrobe' between two pairs of ill-fitting jeans, raglan shirts, the odd henley, and a fuck tonne of minimalistic graphic tees with references that he has no clue about. Boots are abandoned for trainers. (- sneakers, for those who are anglo-challenged)

If it's cold-cold, he adds his trusty sherpa-plaid shirt combo.

If it's hot-hot, he opts for his slutty vests and perhaps some track shorts if he's feeling... frisky.

And fucking baseball caps. He wears them lots, and he wears them well. I do NOT make the rules.

Whenever the weather is good, Sam is outside working on his bike. Whether he's cleaning it, fixing it up, or just revving it for the attention, he'll be out there in aforementioned slutty little vest, cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth, tinkering away because he can't sit still for long at all.

When the weather isn't good, he's miserable. As soon as Winter rolls around, he contracts at least one cold a month, and whilst he gets surprisingly over dramatic about it, he also refuses to take any meds for it. Stubborn man.

Untidy- but never unclean. Being stuck in that grotty old prison for so long, it's clear that Sam wants nothing to remind him of his disgusting cell. He always cleans up after himself in terms of dirt and grime, BUT he's also become a bit of a hoarder, which also makes wherever he lives constantly untidy. Books, ugly little ornaments, and also clothes that he buys and never wears are scattered all over the place.

The idea of owning his own stuff remains seemingly overwhelming; he grows attached to whatever he gets his hands on because he's lived for so long without things of his own.

Continuing down the cleanliness route, Sam takes the longest showers you could imagine. The warmth? The privacy? They'll forever be luxuries to him that he wants to take complete advantage of.

Uses some sort of 250 in 1 body wash/shampoo/car brake fluid concoction, and is in complete refusal of the fact that he needs anything else... though once or twice his intrigue and thieving nature have gotten the better of him, and he's left the bathroom with an oddly feminine aroma that's dangerously similar to the scent of whatever it is his partner's using. Not that he'd ever use a girl's body wash.

Sam whistles around the house. A lot. Also sings quietly to himself throughout the day. He keeps it hushed, mostly, but for some reason, he thinks the shower is soundproof. Lucky for any cohabitors, he's got a pretty good set of pipes on him, and it's actually really sweet. ('We Didn't Start the Fire' by Billy Joel is one of his go-to's. He definitely brags about his ability to remember all of the words.)

He's a dab hand in the kitchen. Well. Sometimes. Sam's got a selection of about three dishes that he makes to Michelin star standard. Other than that he's fucking useless, which can be frustrating since he eats like an animal. Guys of his stature need fuel!

Many times has a frozen lasagna or a teaspoon that's been absentmindedly left in the microwave ended up almost burning the house down. Though, his mind is always in about six places at once, so you can't really blame the poor guy.

But those that he's good at? He's really good at. It's not often that he can be found in the kitchen with a tea towel strewn over his shoulder, four different pots and pans bubbling away on the stove, whilst he bops his head along to a crackly radio station, but when he is? You know you're in for a treat.

He can't scramble eggs for shit (he does it in the microwave and insists it tastes fine💀 it does not.) but can poach 'em good. Expect eggs benedict in the morning, or banana pancakes if you've got a sweet tooth. Not the type to eat brekkie? You are now.

Speaking of breakfast in bed:

Morning 👏 sex. Like... more than any other time of day. Sam wakes up with insane levels of energy in the morning, and the first two hours of his day are more productive than the other twenty-two combined. So if he's not out for a morning jog (eugh.) or busy finding out what recipe he wants to try out for breakfast, he's got it in you. End of. Perhaps you used to grumble about the time... but he's got a thing for your early-am laziness, and you've probably woken up with his head between your thighs more times than you can count. I suppose that feeds in to the somnoph1lia he's most definitely privy to.

That, of course, is not to say that he's exclusively into morning sex.

Is verrrry cuddly with partners when they're visiting or living together. Sam craves touch, so even if it's not a super committed relationship, lingering shoulder squeezes, resting his chin on your head whilst his arms are wrapped around your middle, and gentle strokes to the small of the back are staples- half the time he doesn't even realise he's doing them.

Overall, he’s one handsy bastard, and at his cockiest will take any opportunity he can to smack, squeeze, and even bite your ass if it's convenient enough, offering you nothing but a complacent grin when you try to snap at him. Best you save your moaning for the bedroom. He knows you love it.

Hear me out. He has a weird fascination with teleshopping channels. Not because he wants to buy any of it. Moreso because he enjoys criticising some of the ridiculous stuff they try to flog on there. With a mouthful of cereal, he'll be mocking whatever poor sod has a slot to sell their item, calling you to come and watch in hopes that you find it just as ludicrous as he does.

With TV in general, he has a very stereotypical 'dad' stance on it. Does the whole "what's this crap you're watching? Don't you wanna do something more productive with your day?", only to be glued to the screen within minutes, asking about characters and plot alike.

Unfortunately, this also includes Hallmark Christmas movies.

Sam loves loves LOVES 90's-00's british sitcoms (And no, that's not self-indulgent). I genuinely believe he would binge watch Father Ted and Peep Show happily, especially because he enjoys satire and absorbs the dry sense of humour like a happy sponge. He'd try to impress you with the accent too. Doesn't work.

Falls asleep on the sofa more than anywhere. Since he's often up at the crack of dawn, as soon as 5pm rolls around, he's yawning and 'resting his eyes'. That, and the fact that he finds it hard to get to sleep in bed unless he's totally fucked out. Something about being left alone with nothing but the view of the ceiling and his thoughts makes it difficult for him to switch off. Trauma, eh?

When he does sleep, though, he's precious. Definitely fidgets throughout the night, waking up all stiff because he's been in all sorts of weird positions. He doesn't snore... but he definitely mumbles in his sleep. And it's always nonsense.

Never plans a big groceries run. Sam's trips to the supermarket are solely made on an ad hoc basis, and every time he returns with something that definitely wasn't on the list, i.e. he'll go out to buy pasta but returns with a novelty kitchen timer shaped like a lemon, and a new wooden spoon because he doesn't like the turmeric stains on his current one.

Big porch dweller. Will idle away the hours smoking on his porch or balcony when he's exhausted all of his other options, and will draw little smiley faces on the railings with the burnt out end of the cigarette before throwing it away. Awh.

#sam drake #samuel drake #hehe asks #sam drake x reader #sam drake headcanons #uncharted

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skrs-cats · 5 months

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Loved mudclaws manga his interactions with clanmates and family members were so nice to see vs him in the main arc books we never got any of that just him being antagonistic oh man good luck it took me months to get through all the earlier books, i started at tpb and then went chronologically according to the events timeline on the wiki, it was fun but so time consuming, seeing snippets of the new books makes me feel like im missing out i wanna KNOW but i dont want to spoil myself too much se or novella set during pot3 when please erins i am BEGGING the only thing other than the arc books to happen during pot3 was a graystripe manga YEA i had to look on the wiki to find that i havent read all the bonus scenes i dont have the versions of the books with them and i forget to look them up most of the time lol, glad they stopped making them theyre a pain to find, i know it makes sense for jay and lion to not be as close anymore especially with lion having a family of his own but it bothered me that all these med cats who didnt even seem to like jay that much were the ones to help him, we didnt even get to see him tell lion about it </4 lion would have wanted to know about holly sometimes it feels like the authors dont like the characters 😭

i remember SPEEDING thru the books once i got my grubby lil hands on the pdfs, idk how long they all took to read but i think reading them so fast just made it all the more easy for me to muddle up details hkjhdskjfha if i ever get around to a reread i might just take my time on it. ALSO I FEEL YOU LOL. sometimes i go thru the wc tag and seeing people talk abt the new books gives me the same feelings HAJHAHA i just power thru it by drawing my po3 bastards (surprisingly effective) and go on w my day

as someone who's freshest memory of the recent arcs were snippets of the sibs Bonding and Caring for one another I REFUSEEE TO BELIEVE THAT JAY AND LION ARE NOT CLOSE ANYMORE IM DYING ON HIS HILL. the erins constantly play w my feelings like sometimes theyd drop these awfully sweet scenes of the two being affectionate w one another but then the bonus scene drops and im like... did u forget about lionblaze. wheres my MAN ToT i will also confess that my somewhat recent rediscovery of the bonus scene actually pushed me to make a comic where lion talks to leaf in starclan out of SPITE. but im working on it lol. IF THE ERINS WONT DO IT THEN I WILL

#ask #art

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dontfeeltoohot · 1 year

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Here to copy/paste the thought I texted you about 🤣 ~ KB

So y’know how like sometimes for tv shows or movies like actors will have to pretend to be sick or pretend to sneeze or whatever

Jamie’s doing a scene where he has to fake it. But JQ is acting opposite him and is actually sick and keeps fucking up the takes. And it’s like he’s gotta pretend to be well

Idk something about the star difference of JQ tryna keep his shot together while Jamie’s pretending to be sick and the the directors like “CUT” and they both immediately switch

“Christ, Joe,” Jamie frowns as the other man gives what can only be described as a miserably sick sounding sniffle. “Where’d you pick this bug up?”

“I don’t-snf! don’t kndow,” the younger man swipes at his nose, scrunching it up in the process.

“The irony of me being sick in the scene we’re shooting today,” the blonde tuts, pressing a large handed palm to the curly haired man’s just barely pink cheeks.

They’ve been filming all week for their upcoming movie. Cliche as it was, when Jamie’d heard his best friend was auditioning, well…he might have sent in a tape to the casting director. Three months later both he and Joe were getting calls that they’d nabbed the roles- lovers facing the harsh realities of being out in the 1990’s. It’s a smaller film made by a smaller crew, but they’re all banking on it heading to Sundance due to the theme.

The scene they’re filming today has Jamie in bed, ill and miserable while Joe takes care of him. The older of the two wishes it were the other way around, what with Joe looking like he could play his role perfectly. Both heading into hair and makeup, he can’t help but nod along when a few of the artists comment on how sick the man looks.

“I’m okay, really,” he assures, and Jamie snorts quietly from the other end of the long table.

“That’s why you sound like you’ve been yelling for hours and like you can’t breathe, of course, how silly of us.”

“It’s really n-not thahht bad,” Joe sniffles wetly, and Jamie can already see the crease between his eyebrows drawing, can see the man’s eyes start to flutter as he brings his hand up to his mouth and nose. “hh’IKTSHiew!”

“Bless y-“

“H’aeTSCHiew!”

“-ou.”

“snfsNF! Ugh, sorry, thank you love,” Joe directs towards his makeup artist for the day, Megan, as he drops his hand.

Jamie bites his lip and refrains from mother hen-ing Joseph about how he should sneeze into his arm or his shirt or something other than his hand. Instead, he tilts his face for better access, Lauren starting to work on making him appear paler.

It doesn’t take too terribly long for them to get on set and placed where they should be in the bedroom. Jamie’s in a matching set of striped red pajamas, a soft blue blanket draped around his shoulders. Joe’s in a white polo and black, unbuttoned, heavyweight shirt and jeans. He knows the other man wishes they could swap. Jamie lays against the bed, trying to get in the mindset of someone ill, trying to force himself to believe his throat’s sore, that his face feels too warm bc his body feels too cold.

Joseph is talking to Bryan, their director, coughing and sniffling the entire time. Jamie watches, knowing that soon he really will be coming down with something too. There’s no way to avoid the germs when they’re supposed to be cuddling and kissing. If Joe’s voice is too obvious, even with the meds and tea he’s been downing all morning, maybe they’ll wait a day or two.

The first three takes are mostly used for different blocking, camera angles and suggestions mostly towards Jamie about seeming a little more pouty. He cringes inwardly, always one to find pouty sick people annoying. They start up again.

“Darling, do we have more tea?” Jamie calls out, altering his voice well enough it sounds congested and like his throat’s sore. Joe pops his head into the room, leaning against the door frame.

“You’ve already finished your first?”

Jamie nods and lays his puppy dog face on thick. He goes to cough, but the other man beats him to it, letting out a shallow, barking cough that most of the crew winces at. Jamie itches to rub his back and whisper that he’ll be ok.

The next take, they get through seven seconds before Joe’s sneezing, trying to muffle it as best he can. Another take. Another cut. The cycle repeats itself, until they finally get further and further along.

“But I need you to warm me up, a blanket isn’t enough,” Jamie pouts, tugging on Joe’s shirt.

Joe chuckles, and the elder can see his eyes are bright with fever.

“Oh, well if you insist. You’re lucky you’re so charming when you’re so full of cold, or I’d be running for it,” Joe lays back and brings Jamie into his arms, while the taller of the two fake coughs into his arm, sniffling after. They kiss, and Jamie can feel the curly haired man’s nose twitch.

They’re almost done when Joe, who’s been fighting off an obvious fit, can’t tamper it down any further, and he presses his hands to his face. Jamie raises ever so slightly as Joe’s chest expands with air, then moves so he’s not completely against him.

“HIkSH’ew! EhhITSCHiew! snfsnf! ihiYKSh’uhew! aiGKTSch’EW!”

“Bless you,” Jamie murmurs, looking at the man worriedly.

“Cut! Okay, let’s take a few minutes to regroup…”

#my fic #jq #jcb #soft little thing

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manicgoblin · 5 months

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whole lotta new music courtesy of ru 🥹✨

love my friends so much fr. had a really warm and tender night. got home from work, cleaned my whole apartment cuz I was slacking the last half a week or so. listened to music and shared songs back and forth with ru. kinda half assed planned a trip to chile/stay with their aunt for the summer when their semester is up. Gotta get a passport by March so we can go. talked to my sister for a while, that was nice. He came over and we made dinner. he wanted yellow rice, so I got that goin, and he made us tuna steaks and a whole lotta veggies. we snuggled in bed and watched samurai champloo and she’s the man (i was super anxious from the gummy he offered me, but we made it thru LMAO) woke up this morning to a clean space and Tsuki giving us a good morning snuggle. gotta shower, do a couple dishes, and then head into work. todays going to be good. I got this.

as a side note…

this period has been killer on my mental health. I should really look into something for it at this point. with a solid routine and keeping up with my shit consistently for like 8 months now I can actually tell when it’s getting bad again, and it’s always the week before/during my period. the depression is so much worse. the brain fog. the pain. the hopelessness. the mood swings. the flashbacks and anxiety. my ptsd/bpd symptoms are there otherwise throughout the month but for those 1.5-2 weeks it’s hell, and it’s every. single. month. I’m exhausted. I know treating pmdd is learning what works, diet changes, managing a schedule so there’s less going on that triggers the mental health symptoms, and maybe antidepressants, but something’s gotta give. having to deal with this for the rest of my life is unimaginable. it’s not exactly gender dysphoria, but I am extremely dysphoric about my period now. my gender dysphoria is so much worse during these weeks. I hate my body and the way I present around this time of the month. I really do feel hysterical sometimes. like yes whoever said your uterus was in your throat, go take a day by the seaside and bring this vibrator and cocaine with you, WAS RIGHT lol. gotta go back in to see my docs soon and talk about reworking some med options. maybe a Wellbutrin rerun. and a new adhd test. finding out that my mother has it, and that that was my first diagnosis as a child has me like “yeah hello that was the problem the whole time and then y’all traumatized me and I got personality and trauma disorders” :/ I don’t think they’ll give me adhd meds with my history of drug use, but Wellbutrin might help again…idk. one step at a time. starting a course in Jan for this certificate, working two jobs, taking my permit test real soon now that they mailed me a new test date. everything is going to work itself out because I’m taking steps to get there. some days, some weeks are hard, but I haven’t let up in the face of that. I’m proud of myself. It hurts, I’m angry, I’m sad, I’m grief ridden still, but I’m also finding joy and I’m determined. I’ve gotten better. I have to see that. On the days when it’s dark, I have to remember how far I’ve come. How much I’ve done for myself, by myself. It’s been a long road, and it’s only getting longer, but damn it the scenery is beautiful for once, I can see the scenery for once. and isn’t that the point? picking wildflowers on your way? noticing the trees sway as you move past? pointing out the mushrooms on the side of the road, watching the ants crawl over a branch, sharing bread and fruit with your friends and holding hands while you walk? my body aches, my mind aches, but I’m not alone, and the trees are swaying with me. we’ve always been in synch. I’m being held by the earth everywhere I go. I’m holding myself. I’m holding my friends. I’m holding space for the trees around me. Things are okay, even when they’re not, even when they’re unbearable, things are okay. Life goes on. I keep getting older, so does the soil and the birds and the trees.

#personal #spotify

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dinosaurtsukki · 3 years

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dating the port mafia’s medic

a/n: basically headcanons of port mafia members dating one of the organization’s medics who happen to be you. i just thought this would be cute and i’m craving fluff. also these are,,, really long.

feat. akutagawa, chuuya, and odasaku

akutagawa ryuunosuke:

you were the doctor that mori specifically assigned to him to help with his lung condition

even though akutagawa was supposed to have regular, weekly sessions he’d only come in like,, twice a month and that was after you texted mori that he hasn’t been visiting you

akutagawa isn’t all too comfortable with the fact that he has to take off his shirt so that you could put him in an x-ray gown or when you need to listen to his breathing with a stethoscope

but you’re incredibly patient with him and also the pay is good so you persist

at one point during one of your sessions, akutagawa grumbles about having to come to the clinic when he just wants to live long enough to make dazai proud

and you’re like ‘is that so?’

“personally, i’d feel kind of sad if you had to die so early”

that kind of gets akutagawa thinking. he can tell by the way you said it that you had no ulterior motives behind it

akutagawa: but,,, i'm your most troublesome patient

you: oh my god you think you're troublesome ??

you start to rant abt all the patients you had to treat before who didn't believe in vaccines or got their elbows stuck in weird places

akutagawa finds your stories really entertaining so he ends up enjoying and willingly going to his sessions with you

after that first fight with atsushi, you ended up taking care of akutagawa and patching up his body

literal days of you just being at his bedside, worrying and hoping that he'll wake up and then you suddenly realize that maybe you have feelings for him

when akutagawa regains consciousness, he finds that he doesn't entirely hate the situation he's in because he gets to see you more often

he likes listening to more of your stories while you sit at his bedside. eventually he opens up with stories of his own (most of them are abt his missions so yeah)

akutagawa begins visiting your clinic more and one day he comes in even though he doesn't have a session and then agonizes over why the heck he did that

good guy senpai chuuya is basically all 'idk are you in love or something?'

to akutagawa it's utterly unacceptable and he hides his feelings for so long until you're the one who decides to confess to him

and to your surprise, he hesitantly asks if maybe you two would like to be in a relationship

you two are awkward about it at first. akutagawa doesn't really know if drinking tea at your clinic could be considered a 'date' but he does like these moments

both of you have pretty hectic schedules since m your patients are also mafia members and you have to be on-call all the time but akutagawa is really understanding

he likes seeing you in casual clothes but he also thinks you look good in a labcoat (he probably borrowed it when you were not looking to try it on)

because akutagawa has grown quite accustomed to your touch and initiates holding hands with you (in private ofc)

he's still not used to the idea of you taking care of him not just as a doctor but as his s/o but it makes a nice change for once

chuuya nakahara:

the first time he met you was after a mission when he was taking one of his subordinates to the emergency room of the infirmary

you were the doctor on-duty that night and the first time chuuya laid his eyes on you he was like 'damn'

who knew the mafia doctors were this hot amirite

ofc you were also kind of starstruck to see mafia executive chuuya nakahara in the emergency room but you had a job to do and a man was losing blood

you: what's his type?

chuuya: uh,, h/c hair, beautiful eyes, labcoat...

you: i mean... his blood type

chuuya's got it bad. after that night he couldn't stop thinking about that cute medic aka you

but he didn't even know what your shifts were so he LOOKS FOR YOUR CASE FILE IN THE RECORDS

it's like he's gonna commit a murder or something but no he's looking for information on you

the guy’s pretty impressed when he looks at your resume and definitely sees why you were hired to be a doctor at the mafia but that only makes him want to see you more

but questions is, how does he make it look like he was just ‘passing by the infirmary’ and not that he’s actively looking for you

tsundere boy is tsundere

because chuuya almost NEVER gets injured in fights and he’s got a reputation for that and now does he get himself injured on purpose just to see you?

well, the opportunity presents itself in the form of him and dazai fighting cthulhu aka lovecraft but we all know its cthulhu

chuuya wakes up on a hospital bed to you checking in on him and he almost falls off the bed in shock

but then after he gets his bearings he realizes what an IDEAL SITUATION THIS IS

although it’s kind of hard to flirt with someone when you’re in a hospital gown with an IV infusion stuck to his arm

nonetheless, he finally decides to ask you out after his last day of treatment and you’re shocked of course but agree

although your first date ends up being rain-checked because a patient comes in a new mission for chuuya comes up

actually almost all your dates get rain-checked until after a mission, chuuya decides to visit your clinic with a bouquet of flowers just when you get off your shift

chuuya: are... you free?

you: yeah. are... you free?

both of you are too tired for a fancy restaurant date so you two end up at a cozy bar to share a drink

chuuya loves listening to your stories and talking to you. he literally has his chin on his hands listening to how you made a makeshift tourniquet out of your labcoat while you were on the field

both of you are really busy people but chuuya likes to stop by your clinic once in a while

you always have fresh flowers on your table because chuuya brings them for you

sometimes he’ll come home to you already tired and passed out

oda sakunosuke:

the first time he met you was after a particularly rough mission and you were luckily there at the emergency room to treat him

this guy had a concussion and needed stitches asap but instead he was asking you to treat his companions first

you quickly treated him and let him rest and of course the first thing he asks when he wakes up is how everyone else is doing

your intrigued of course because you’ve never met a mafia member who was like him

the second time you met him, odasaku actually brought someone from the enemy faction along because he didn’t think that leaving him to die was the right choice

he didn’t know if you would treat them because you were loyal to the mafia but you also had your own moral code as a doctor to treat patients no matter who they were

odasaku stuck around the emergency room knowing that it was going to take you hours to treat the man and when you come out, you’re surprised to see him there with a cup of coffee

the two of you end up sitting in the hallway and talking about all sorts of things. you love listening to how odasaku stopped killing so that he can fulfill his dream of being a writer

he on the other hand loves hearing about how you went through the hell that was med school because you were dedicated to saving lives

maybe odasaku doesn’t mind getting injured so much because that means he gets to see you but also you can’t help but feel worried about him

one time, one of the odasaku’s adopted kids gets really sick and the first person he ends up calling is you because he has no idea what to do

to his relief, you show up right at the curry restaurant and are very much ready to help

odasaku admires how good you are with kids. even though they just met you, they’ve already taken a liking to your calm, sweet presence

you even pull out your stethoscope and let them take turns listening to each other’s heartbeats

until a kid walks up to oda to check his heartbeat and is like ‘uh,,, your heart is beating really fast’

cue all the kids singing “ODA LOVES Y/N, ODA LOVES Y/N”

you look up at oda and he doesn’t look away and now you know

after that day, oda asks if you would like to maybe have a drink with him or visit a cafe and you say that you would love to

odasaku loves to drop by your clinic because he’s such a caring boyfriend and he knows how stressed you are from your work

he even comes by in the morning to bring you your coffee and he memorizes your order

▸ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ◂

taglist (check out my post for details on being part of my taglist): @waitforitillwritemywayout @atsumu-brainrot @laure-chan @goodfoodxoxoxo @guardianangelswings @ah-kaashi

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whentherewerebicycles · 2 years

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my scruffy girl 😭 with some fluffy legs for jamila

sleep update: I slept nine hours last night and feel a little groggy but otherwise pretty good. new sleep med continues to be amazing at helping me fall asleep quickly and naturally—I take it 45-60 min before bedtime and by the time bedtime rolls around I physically can’t keep my eyes open anymore and am dozing off reading. I’m not sure it’s the best at helping me sleep deeply through the night but I’ve figured out some strategies for helping with that… I leave the closet light on so the dogs can get on and off the bed without waking me and then I wear an eye mask so the light doesn’t bother me. not a perfect solution but far fewer nighttime sleep interruptions! I do sometimes get morning-after groggy hangovers so I may try halving the dose for a week to see if that helps. but idk man even if sleep isn’t perfect it’s such an incredible weight off my shoulders to know that I’ll be able to fall asleep without any problems every night. I don’t think I realized how much anxiety and dread I’d built up around lying down and spending hours trying to fall asleep!! so I’ll take it I can absolutely live with the parts that aren’t perfect.

mmkay might as well also do some health-related thinking aloud. I’ve really slipped back into some unhealthy eating habits the last six months or so (although still so much better than before 2019!!) and I’d like to do a bit of a reset there. I think I might start rereading how not to die as a plant-based refresher and then, huge sigh, I do think I need to set aside some time on sundays to do all of my meal prep for the week. I want to eat more vegetables and I want to start bulk-preparing rice and grains so it’s easy to make quick meals during the week. but I think to do that I need to actually sit down and do some research on easy vegetarian meals that can be thrown together quickly on weeknights. and I also need to invest in some good heavy duty Tupperware… I feel like I am constantly buying Tupperware and I have NO idea where it all disappears to??

and then exercise… I’m good about walking about an hour every day but I’ve totally stopped running or skating and I only bike very casually around my neighborhood. weirdly I think it’s easier for me to exercise in the summer because my walk leaves me sooo sweaty and gross that I have to shower again anyway, so it’s mentally easier to just be like well ok I’ll walk and then tack on a run or a skate. but I think I might again sit down and do some actual planning around how I want to scale up activity. I’d like to do it VERY gradually, like building in a 10 min run at the end of a walk or building in a 20 min bike ride once a week in the mornings or something. I might also explore ways to attach it to writing out of the house, which is another habit I’d like to build… like maybe I bike somewhere 15 min away, write on my phone or iPad for a while, and then bike home. and agh I know I need to start building in light strength training sigh I’ve been saying that for years but throwing my back out a couple months back really drove home for me how weak my core and upper body are. idk I just gotta think about it. my parents are super into Pilates these days so maybe that’s an option to explore.

bleurgh okay what does the day hold! it’s really nice out right now but will be kinda hot later, so this would be an ideal time to get up and do something outside. my spring break writing project is going okay… I think the concept is working but I’m definitely out of the new project honeymoon phase and into the frustrating ‘aghh why is writing SO HARD’ phase. mmm okay. I will scroll for 10 min, then get up to shower so I can’t just lie in bed all day. then I will WRITE OUTSIDE and maybe leave my phone somewhere so I’m not distracted by mindless scrolling.

#daily processing

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ak8shi · 4 years

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Jobs that the HQ Boys would have in college

a/n: I’m tipsy and idk what this is.,,,,many thots head full

ATSUMU: oh my god… he would work at Lulu Lemon and also be a campus rep for the brand, he looks really good in the clothes ig,, 🙄his manager fucking hated him for the first month of working there because they put him on the floor thinking he would attract people with his athletic build and good looks but he was so judgmental towards the customers, they had to put him behind the cash register LMFAO😔😭, he’s still judgmental behind the counter about the colors people pick for things but he knows he has to stfu to keep the job.. when dudes check out and have anything longer than 5.5 inseam shorts he always mumbles under his breath about feeling bad for the dude’s girlfriend 💀

BOKUTO: ALSO a Lulu Lemon rep but more of a floor/customer service person lmfao, HE SELLS things like CRAZY, people just listen to him and his expertise when it comes to the apparel because he’s so enthusiastic about it and looks so good in it, he’s the type that has 5 million different random jobs here and there : I can see him working at the campus gym as an instructor or just someone who oversees the machine area, LMFAO he’s the one who organized recreational games and sometimes referees rec volleyball!! He loves it and people ask him for advice all the time. He also stands outside of hollister shirtless on Black Friday LAMAKISKSMS, He ALSO is sponsored by one of those companies that delivers snack packages directly to college dorms HE IS SO CUTE PLEASE

SUNA: He has a job at his college campus’ library! He literally loves it because he doesn’t really have to talk to anyone besides the elderly ladies who work with him and the occasional lost underclassman, and he can do his homework on the job. Girls go to the library that he works at specifically to stare at him, and the twins come in to annoy him often too (that’s the only way they would be in a library setting) GIRL he has to KICK them out for being so loud god. He also gets the occasional offer from the campus’ student ran fashion magazine to model but he’s too embarrassed and knows he would get absolutely CLOWNED if he accepted🥺. He also ubers on the weekends sometimes and he as a 5 rating because he’s hot and never makes weird conversation with his passengers

FUTAKUCHI: MAN he would work at the mall at one of those hair kiosks LMFAOO Listen, he’s honestly the perfect person for the job because he’s pushy, confident, and h*t… when people would usually object on getting their hair done by some random at the mall, they usually say yes to him because…. Its him ugh I hate him ALSO HE’S ONE OF THOSE SKETCHY PEOPLE ON FACEBOOK THAT SELLS SCAM BEAUTY PRODUCTS (“hey girly,” PLEASEMDMF)

OSAMU: He would work a typical bus boy job in college tbh, you usually have the start from the bottom in the restaurant business and he likes the fact that the hours are pretty flexible, and that he can show up hungover as fuck and still do an okay job. Occasionally his friends will pay him to cook a meal for them, or bake something that they can impress a girl with (sometimes he purposely burns the baked goods 😭LMFAMDM) Works late a lot of times and you can catch him downtown in the parking lot scarfing down his dinner at 2 am

SHIRABU: I have no idea why this one was so obvious to me but he 100% works at a Starbucks on campus lmao, his pre-med self is just always stressed and needs coffee to stay awake, and honestly he kind of enjoys being a cunt to all the students he encounters as an outlet for his frustration (sir…💀), He’s constantly screaming at Goshiki behind the counter, and he honestly doesn’t have the patience for any Karens or those girls who complain about their order because they ordered something they didn’t mean to. He’s genuine and friendly to his regulars though and if you tip he’ll put an extra shot of espresso in your order😙

KUROO: Also another obvious one for me, he’s giving me paid lab member by day, bar tender by night vibes from a million miles away. He honestly gets offered the job in the lab because of his grades and immense understanding of chemistry in his classes and labs, and he loves it!! God.. he’s really so nerdy and you can’t tell me this man doesn’t get published multiple times in academic papers bc he DOES! The lab is great and everything but he’s only there for a few hours per week, so he seeks out a nightlife job at a bar, let me tell you that’s where he cashes out,,, 🤑 like he gets tipped really well because he’s good at conversation while not being creepy, he’s HOT as FUCK, and he makes the drinks actually strong. Truly everyone and their mom’s favorite bartender !

ARAN: THIS MAN,,, he’s so photogenic and good looking there’s not doubt in my mind that he would be an influencer on campus (Atsumu really wishes he was him lmfao💀), he has ALL the sponsors and also a huge social media following. Fashion nova men, skincare brands, athletic programs, he has so many sponsors and basically most of his Instagram is payed placement , He also promotes a lot of campus merch and bars!! Like there are definitely pics of him popping bottles with his boys on his insta and he looks so good please😈

SEMI: he would work at a piercing or tattoo salon, and honestly it happens unintentionally ?? He went in for a tattoo and he was looking at the jewelry on display and was like??? this would be so cool to be able to pierce someone!! SO he apprenticed with a worker and had a lot of his friends who wanted piercings come in for practice, also he’s the type of dude that is great at calming/reassuring people who are nervous or anxious before getting a piercing or tat, loves to play his guitar quietly in the background when he’s not busy helping a client🥰 also volunteers at the animal shelter a few times a month bc he loves animals 🥺

SAKUSA: this one is making me laugh because he would definitely work a teleprompter job thinking it would be fine since he doesn’t have to touch or interact with anyone but he ends up hating it because of how rude the people are 💀😭 he somehow gets stuck with the most obnoxious and rude clients he really can’t take it, (the way he has to repeat himself forty times... no) he brings a huge thermos of coffee to the office when he has to work and he leaves with a huge headache every time

#GIRL WHAT IS THIS IM AKAKAKAJNSMSSSMNZ #haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagine #haikyu headcanons #atsumu x reader #osamu x reader #suna x you #kuroo x reader #bokuto x reader #semi x reader #take this shit while i attempt to finish this fic😔#sakusa x reader #shirabu x reader #ch

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antaradimensi · 2 years

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REACTIVE!

WELL, this is my "second time" with Covid. The first time was November 2020 (without any symptoms) I.M.O this variant spread faster and easier to others if we were once infected. It is still a deadly virus however people already had their second dose of vaccine so the impact on their health isn't that so damaging (still for some people isn't so take care of yourself well!)

My antigen test result is reactive on Wednesday meanwhile I still not doing the PCR test because today is day five since my reactive antigen test (plan to do it next Tuesday) the symptoms is still bad tho and I only have one chance to get free PCR test from the government (yea my office will not pay for it like in 2020, now they provide antigen only)

I got my second dose in September last year, Astra Zeneca, and looking forward to getting a booster vaccine. Please be vaccinated y'all, this is so important not only for yourself but your loved ones around. IT WORKS.

Transportation industry which I'm working at I admit it just hard to do work from home because sometimes we need to have direct contact with customers however it doesn't mean it is not possible (with if) somehow I really disappointed with the management about this spread prevention. The employee already asked to work from home 50% since last week but the management said the Omicron symptoms aren't deadly since we all got vaccinated (proved that last year 5 employees died with Delta variant and since it happened work from home 50% begin for 2 months) now since half of the employees already infected with Omicron, the management will do Work From Home 50% for the rest of employees (that still healthy). I mean, this is stupid why do they just do it now??? 3 out of 4 people in my team including me are infected and due to this 50% three days a week starting from next Monday no one will work from the office because only one person stay healthy. Isn't it better if this company did WFO since the first case so at least 2 employees will attend daily? LOL

Well, enough for the rant.

When I said this virus is worse (IMO) is because no matter how well I protected myself and my family to not getting infected now they are in less than 5 days people in this house infected even they all got the second dose.

Here are my 5 days RECAP:

I coughing since the second week of December, I thought it was because I was stressed with my workload at the office, the cough get better and worse but never over. The antigen test still shows negative results until February 3rd so I'm not panicking. On February 9th my senior back from 2 days' leave because she was feeling unwell and did an antigen test on Wed. The result is reactive and since I sit next to her I took the test too and it shows one line after 15 minutes (negative) but 2 lines after 35 minutes (reactive) I immediately leave the office. I'm not feeling anything that day besides cough and tired because need to back up her tasks when she left.

February 10th: FEVER at night, coughing (worse) still need to work, not taking nap, but it is okay because it kinda "refreshed" myself to work at home after months isn't. The "euphoria" IDK if this dedication, I love this job, or combination of ADHD and my manic phase so I forgot to took any meds and I was supposed to rest (my boss only said I have to bring my computer from the office to keep working, LOL like I don't spend my money to make my job easier since *buy a laptop 2 years ago, buy a new phone* no get well soon stuff just keep working she said. I will not die because of this virus and keep working *maybe in her opinion*) I have a cold at the end of the day.

February 11th: Still need to WORK! MAN, it's just hard! working fully at home, the internet speed at my office is sucks when I remoted it from here. I finished working at 11PM; feeling dizzy all day, heavy coughing, overwhelmed, hard to sit for hours, and still don't have time to have a nap even the meds cause drowsiness.

February 12th: Woke up in the morning at 6AM in hurry to open my laptop and start to WORK AGAIN because of calls from the operational team. Finished working at 9PM still not taking a nap and yet still begin to sleep at 11PM because I need to cheer myself with journaling stuff. Coughing, still feeling dizzy (but better now I can sit straight for hours) mood on this day mostly angry, back pain, have a cold.

TODAY! February 13th: Feeling better, maybe it is because today is Sunday and no one contact me since no working hours. I can rest write to cheer up myself, wake up earlier before my morning alarm, feed my cats, play with them, they said being happy is important for good immune. Yet I finally have time for taking care of myself.

Conclusion: This virus shares similar symptoms with common "feeling unwell" (I guess it is because the vaccine works) but it takes more time than usual (when we get sick) for us to recover.

I plan to take an antigen test tomorrow if the result is negative I'll continue to the PCR test a day after. Once the result is out, I'll give it to HRD and get back to work normally.

TAKE A REST! Stay safe❤️

#omicron #corona positive #omicron variant

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emilx311 · 3 years

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Life Update

Hey all, so I pretty much vanished off the internet for the past few months (whoops sorry about that) but things have been crazy irl! Here’s a bit of a summary for those who were wondering what happened to me:

So, for context sake a few fun facts about me. I work as a night auditor at a hotel and have done so since August 2019, I graduated Uni with a degree in Justice Studies in 2018, and I have several minor but chronic health issues that lead to me being very low energy-ie having less spoons than a normal person and needing more sleep.

Aside from the issues already inherent with 2020′s....everything we had several more personal issues at my (I say my because I work there) motel. Mainly around staffing, and especially around night audit staffing.

Since I was hired we’ve gone through 5 or 6 other night auditors (I think? maybe more). And they often.....quit with barely any notice. So, being our only consistent night auditor I’ve been called in last minute several times over the past year leading to 6 or even 7 day weeks. (Not Fun!)

Even when we have had another trained night auditor with us they often also do day shifts since we only need them for 2 nights a week. Turn over for day-shift people has been barely lower than turn over for night shift, which has led to them having to be called in last minute to cover day shifts when people left which means I also had to be called in last minute to cover the night shifts they were no longer able to do, leading to us all working 6 or even 7 day weeks (Super Not Fun!)

In summary: I’ve worked more overtime days than I have had vacation days in this last year. Heck, the last time I tried to go on vacation for like 5 days I got called in every other day and my boss (our regional manager) paid me double for the shifts I worked and refused to touch my vacation pay because even he acknowledged that was in no way a real vacation at that point (this was at the beginning of September btw...)

This was all compounded when our general manager (gm) left in late July. Her reason for leaving was super fair since she got a better job offer, similar pay to what she was making, less work since she would no longer have to do all the duties our boss should have been doing but was instead pushing off unto her. Super sad to see her go but wished her the best (still miss her) :(

This left our under manager (gsm) and me as the main people in the hotel (ie those who have been there the longest, only the gsm and housekeepers had been there longer than I had at that point-and I had not even reached my 1 year yet). Which, not super great, but the other people we had were okay so we would manage. So the gsm and I held things together and started basically running the hotel (shout out to the gsm here because I love her and she is actually like 5 years younger than me but has accomplished so much more, I am in constant awe of her tbh). Our boss (who is....kind of dumb sometimes) realized this. We became his golden girls (he plays favorites hard).

It is at that point that someone above our boss’s level in the company (he’s in charge locally, but we do belong to a large corporation, ah capitalism) hired disaster #1 as our first new gm. Disaster #1 was creepily cheerful and utterly dismayed to find out his job actually involved him doing work! Like working at the front desk during his shifts and doing manager stuff instead of it just being him sitting in the back looking important and giving us encouragement occasionally. He payed no attention to his training. He did very little of his basic work let alone the manager stuff. He took credit and praised “the team” whenever something went right and pushed blame off him unto everyone else as hard as he could when something went wrong (I once pointed out he forgot to do something and he legit said to me “can you prove it was me?” I said “yes” very firmly.)

Now, as the auditor my job is to spot, point out, and fix errors. He hated coming in to to work after me because I spotted and pointed out everything he missed or did incorrectly. At first just because I happened to notice them. Then it became personal, he cornered me one morning at shift change and told me that he dreaded coming in to work after me because I was always so critical, and he had so much to do during his shifts other than just front desk stuff (he did not, most of the “manager” stuff he was even trained in doing at this point he shoved off unto the gsm) he then disparaged the gsm. I was done, I was pissed (you do not say mean things about my gsm, nope, not okay, I will cut and slab you*) and kind of hurt (why are you taking my corrections as personal attacks? Why are you saying I’m mean for doing my job?) So, if he wanted to make it personal I decided to make it personal and made it my mission to find and point out everything he did wrong, no more overlooking small things as I had been. The pressure of actually having to work made him quit (shocking, not!).

It was also around this time that I signed up for an LSAT prep course. Because I hate myself and now that I’ve been working for a couple years and have some money saved up I want to follow through on my plan to get either a Law Degree or a Masters Degree and so am working on taking the LSAT and applying to law schools. No, studying has not been going well, time and energy have also been preventing that.

Fast forward a couple months and 2 of our best employees went on holiday (one they had scheduled months before). It’s the start of January, they will be gone for two months. In that time our boss had hired our next gm, idiot #2. Just as these two leave the other front desk person we’d been training quits with no notice. We are short staffed....again (yay more 6 and 7 day weeks, ack). To fill in this gap our boss brings in idiot #3 from one of the other 2 hotels in the area our company owns.

Idiot #2 is semi okay, he is not manager material, even months after he was hired to be gm he does not have the training and is basically just a front desk agent. He is bad about doing things himself unless you specifically direct him to with very clear instructions, but he can do the minimum (although he failed the coffee test. After idiot #1 I wrote out very, VERY specific instructions for how to clean our coffee station....he is not able to follow them. The gsm and I joked about the coffee test after I first wrote the instructions, that someone actually failed it....we despair). So, he does not think ahead, do any extra, or solve many problems but at least he rarely creates problems.

This brings us to idiot #3. I do not know what goes on in his head (very little likely) but man oh man. Some examples: the time he-after being asked like 4 times-actually sign off on the checklist after cleaning the laundry room (as everyone is supposed to once a shift) but did so in sharpie instead of one of the many dry-erase markers left around the front desk for no other reason than the clearly laminated sign off sheet. Or the time he decided on his own to give someone a satisfaction refund, far larger than it should have been (which only managers and those with special permission can do in any of the hotels, so he should know better but somehow....)

We have a book for front desk to write messages on about issues for the next people. Usually we have a note or two on any given day. Pretty much every day he worked it was full and even going onto the next page. Idk how, it’s like he touched something and issues sprung up. and Guess who got to be the one to fix all of them (woooo).

For the past few weeks I have had 2 days a week where the only people who worked were me and idiots #2 and #3. It’s been horrible. In addition, my days off were changed for these months so I haven’t been able to meet my one bubble inclusive friend to vent like we usually do once a week, because that time no longer fit in my schedule. I have been living in exhaustive hell for the past couple months, and even before that as I tried to lighten the gsm’s load as much as I could as she took on a lot of the gm stuff. My house is a mess, tbh my life is a mess because work has left me so tired and stressed that I basically get home, shower, collapse onto bed, read a bit, sleep, wake-up, find some sort of food, get ready for work, go to work, and repeat. Even on my days off I’m sleeping 75% of the time and resting to try and shore up my spoons (of which I already have fewer than most people) to get through the work week.

tl;dr Due to ridiculousness I ended up unofficially co-running a hotel and it’s sucked up so much of my energy that all my free time is pretty much spent sleeping just to ensure I’m able to get through my work weeks semi-functionally. Everything about my life has been a mess, to the point where I’m legit not sure how I’ve been keeping myself fed, clean, on meds and just generally....alive.

#personal #emi says #life update #about my 2020 and early 2021 #it's been hell #and not for the usual reasons #no #I'm not okay #but that's fine #that's pretty normal at this point tbh

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the-hopeless-haze · 4 years

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Someone Who, Like it Or Not, Will Want You to Share a Little a Lot

BEING ALIVE Chapter 9

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

A/N: This is my submission for @thatesqcrush kink bingo square praise!kink. Also this chapter went a lot different than I originally planned but it just hit me like a ton of bricks so I hope it’s clear what I’m going for. IDK time to flip the script a little! Also if you saw this posted and disappear it’s because tumblr hates me ok sorry

Content Warning: Smut (ahah) and vague mentions of past abuse (if you’ve been reading the story you know)

Word Count: 5k (sorry lol)

(also how did I never see this gif before fuck me)

“I got you something,” Rafael says. You’re in his office for a lunch break, making sure he eats the salad you’d made for him. Sometimes he still hates you. When you try and shove lettuce down his throat, well, that’s one of those times. But he knows it’s for his own good, like most things you do with him in mind.

“Ooh, we’re doing birthday gifts already?“ you ask, kissing his cheek. "I figured I’d see you later… you’re coming to the restaurant, right? I really don’t think Sonny knows what ‘surprise’ means, but hey. It’s nice of him and the squad.”

“Yes. I know all about it. He hasn’t left me alone for the past two weeks.”

“Nice to know someone cares about me,” you tease, and Rafael rolls his eyes.

“Well, anyway, I figured I’d see you at lunch today, so I brought this one thing with me. I wanted you to wear it tonight. Don’t worry, cariño, you have plenty of other gifts waiting for you at my place.”

“I told you not to go all out. I’m only turning 26. 35 is the next big one.”

He raises an eyebrow at you. “35? I thought it was 30?”

"No. I think 30 will be just another one. Everyone makes it a big deal because it ends in a 0, but I don’t think it is. 35 is where the line is crossed. That’s when you’re officially middle-aged,” you say, grinning a little.

“Jesus, so what am I? Ancient?”

“No. You’re still middle-aged,” you giggle. “You’re getting there, though.”

“Mm. Right. Remind me why I spent money on you again?”

“Because…” you drawl, pulling him in by his tie to press your lips to his. And oh, it’s a mesmerizing kiss, like most of them are: one of your hands moves to the back of his head, pulling him in ever closer, and you’re slipping your tongue in his mouth, the acidic tinge of the vinaigrette you had been eating just the jolt he needed to get him to grasp for you. His hands slip under your shirt, earning a gasp from you, but Rafael remembers he’s in his office and the shades aren’t drawn and keeps his hands on your waist. You’re not close enough; you’re never close enough. “That’s why. Right?”

“Right. I forgot,” he snickers, pecking your lips. “Do you want your present or not?”

“Of course, honey.”

So he gets up and pulls out a jewelry box from his desk drawer, taking a deep breath, unsure of why he was so nervous. He smiles awkwardly, walking back over to the table and handing it to you.

“Open it, cariño.”

You do, your hands shaking a little as you unlatch the box, revealing a simple, delicate gold chain with an emerald pendant attached to it. You don’t say anything, your eyes watering as you look up at him.

“Do you not like it?” he asks, cursing himself. He should’ve asked you to pick something else out.

“Rafael, I can’t accept this. How much money was this? I can’t…”

“It doesn’t matter. I bought it for you, and I want you to have it. Do you like it, (y/n)?”

“I love it, Rafael, but it’s too much… I told you not to spend too much.”

Who was counting? He wasn’t above sharing his wealth that he’d worked to accrue. It was nice to be able to give, sometimes, and that was the expectation, wasn’t it? It was your birthday, he was your boyfriend, and he would be damned if he was outdone by anyone on the squad tonight.

"Just let me give this to you. Please,” he says. “And don’t cry.” God, you were always crying. Too much. You were an emotional person, and internalized everything, good or bad. He’d have to talk you out of ways you put yourself down frequently, but lately he’s been finding it hard to be bothered by it, because you’d smile after he smoothed out the knots in your mind, and kiss him like you meant it. “Stand up. Let me put it on.”

“Okay,” you whisper, nodding and getting up. “This is the nicest thing…anyone’s ever bought for me. Don’t think I don’t want it, Rafael, I do, but it’s… I was shocked at first. I don’t want to put you out.”

"Shh,” he says, taking the necklace out of the box and pushing your hair aside. He kisses the back of your neck, placing the necklace on your skin and clasping the hook.

“I like the pendant,” you say, fingering it between your pointer finger and thumb. “It reminds me of your eyes. Thank you so much.”

“I’m glad you like it. I’m not in the habit of buying jewelry, really. I never had anyone to buy anything for, so I didn’t know…”

“You have good taste,” you say, turning around and smiling, but then your face falls a little. “But… Rafael… how long?”

“How long what?”

“How long did you live like that? Alone? I mean, after Yelina, did you ever get that close again?”

He sighs, leaning against the table. He doesn’t want to divulge this, but at the same time he feels like he has to share. “There was a man. I was… 35,” he chuckles mirthlessly. “But we didn’t work out. Guess I didn’t get the memo that that’s when I was supposed to have my shit together. And I just… I just gave up after that. I had flings, but never got that close again.”

"Honey, you know I didn’t mean it like that. I was only joking about the middle-age thing—“

Rafael waves his hand dismissively. “It’s fine, (y/n).”

“You sure?”

“Mm,” he says, putting an arm around your shoulder.

“Eight years is a long time, though.”

"It is… and if I ever seem distant, I don’t mean to be. I’m just used to being alone.”

“I don’t want you to ever get used to that again, honey,” you say, leaning against the table next to him. “You get used to me being here. Soy tuyo y… eres mio.”

He kisses you then, urgently. God, you were going to start talking to him in Spanish now? Even if all you knew was elementary level, he was a goner.

He doesn’t have much time to dwell on that thought, because Carisi’s knocking on the door. “Sorry to interrupt, Counselor, but I need to borrow the birthday girl,” he says, smiling brightly in that annoying way he always did. “We need her more than you right now.”

"What happened? I told Olivia an hour,” you ask, taking Rafael’s hand in your own as he pulls away from your mouth.

“Yeah, well, you know you can ask for an hour… but that doesn’t mean you’re gonna get it. She told me to come pick you up. We got a lead, and if you wanna get out by dinner…”

You roll your eyes at Sonny, then glance at Rafael. "Looks like I have to cut this short. Bye, honey,” you say, kissing him. “Make sure you eat your salad.”

“Yeah, Barba. Gotta get those greens in,” Carisi chuckles as you both give him a look. “What? It’s cute that you worry about his health. My ma, she’s always on my father about taking his meds, and she cooks for him, makes sure he goes for walks.”

“Well, I can’t have Rafael dying on me,” you say, putting on your coat. “I’d miss him too much.” You flash Rafael a smile, heading out with Carisi’s arm around your shoulder.

Sometimes he still feels a pang in his chest when he sees you with Carisi. Things seemed so easy between the two of you, so simple, like you’d been friends for decades as opposed to the months Carisi had been on the SVU. And Carisi was still annoying, God, the man never shut up about anything, and his off-color comments were more than eyebrow-raising at times. In some ways, Carisi was your work-husband, and Rafael supposes that’s to be expected. Partners got close, maybe even closer than some legal marriages.

Another reason why it was a sham. Right? Just because you didn’t have a ring on your finger or his last name didn’t mean you weren’t close to him.

But you could always be closer. Too close for comfort. Wake up next to him every day, brush your teeth in the bathroom next to him while he shaves, argue with him about not taking the trash out on time or something equally mundane. Sounds like hell. Sounds like monotony. Sounds like settling, maybe more on your part than his.

Because who would be able to marry you and call that settling?

Aside from the fact that marriage was always a risk for settling - because what are the odds you pick the right stranger off the streets of New York to bind yourself to for the rest of your life? Another hundred people were always getting off trains, getting on buses, leaving crowded streets to catch planes into or out of this city.

Rafael, though, he was always staying in the same place.

And, even though it may be insignificant in the grand scheme of things, the fact remains that somewhere on some paper in that precinct, your name is next to Carisi’s, billing you as partners. There was no such record of you and Rafael anywhere, not even a Facebook status. And that? From a legal standpoint, if one wanted to be crude, you two were nothing more than friends who fucked. Even if you did live together (which you didn’t) common law marriage wasn’t legal in New York.

So. Legally, if you went down that convoluted path, maybe you were closer to Carisi.

Rafael isn’t sure what to think about that. He’s over the jealousy; it’s been long enough now that he trusts you not to do anything stupid, and as much as Rafael hates to admit it he believes Carisi’s too set in his morals to even look at you suggestively. But it’s still something to think about, isn’t it?

——

“You look gorgeous,” Rafael whispers in your ear, helping you zip up your dress. You did; clad in a crushed velvet emerald long-sleeve number - yet another thing Rafael shelled out money for - and there’s a sense of pride in seeing it match perfectly with the necklace he’d gifted you earlier. “But I already can’t wait to bring you back here.”

“Mm, is that yet another present, honey?” you ask, pressing back against him. “You’ve really been spoiling me.”

“You’ve been a good girl. You deserve it,” he says, chuckling as you shiver.

“We’re gonna be late. Not nice to tease me,” you pout.

“I’ll make it up to you tenfold. Put your shoes on.”

The restaurant is nicer than Rafael thought the squad would pick out when they mentioned this idea to him a few weeks ago, but he has half a mind that they thought Rafael would help cover most of the bill. Which he did, as expected. Give a little, get a lot. Something like that. Like it or not, he’s dating the birthday girl, and he’s expected to be more giving than usual. By you, too, of course, even if you would never voice that assumption. He couldn’t very well buy himself suits that cost two grand for no reason and justify not spending the same amount or more on you on special occasions.

“Hey, happy birthday! Surprise!” Carisi says as you get to the table.

You roll your eyes at him before hugging him. “You said happy birthday to me, like, what? Twenty times today? It’s not a surprise anymore. But thank you.”

“Hey. Dream team. Had to do something for the best pardna in the world,” he says.

“Well, damn, Barba, you got (y/n) dressing to the nines too, now,” Amanda says when she sees you, smiling and squeezing your shoulder gently. “I feel underdressed now.”

“Nah, you look beautiful, Amanda,” you tell her, grinning back. “Blue’s your color.”

“Green’s definitely yours.”

This is the first time the whole squad has gone out with Rafael present since they found out for certain that the two of you were dating, and Rafael isn’t quite sure what to make of the atmosphere. He still feels excluded as the only lawyer present at a table full of detectives, and he thought maybe a known tie to you would change that, but it doesn’t, not much. Everyone falls into telling stories, and tonight they mostly concern you - but Rafael has none he wants to share even if maybe you expect him to contribute to the conversation.

What could he say that they didn’t already know?

Besides, what the hell did they think about him? He can only imagine what went through their heads once it was confirmed that he was dating you.

Isn’t he a little bit, well… too much of a smartass? Tacky, in the sense that he’s still that same kid from the barrio trying to fit in with the upper-class of New York with expensive suits and a brass ego? Old? Short? Aggressive (maybe more so passively)? Neurotic? Peculiar? Depressing?

God, he’s practically old enough to be your father.

Everyone was always trying to set you up with someone before they knew you weren’t single, whether it be Sonny with his Fordham buddies or Amanda with her men from god-knows-where or even Olivia one time with a sergeant from a different department. Maybe it’s because you’re beautiful, and beautiful people don’t stay single for long (unless, perhaps, if they were surly and standoffish, which you weren’t in the slightest). You’re a charmer, even if you don’t necessarily mean to be. A flirt without quite realizing it, without being too much of a threat. Pleasant to be around. Easy to like. A little shy, a little rough around the edges, a little stoic at first, sure, but that was easily overlooked and if someone put in the time, you were an open book.

It was easy to pity you. Maybe that shouldn’t be how he sees you, but sometimes he just can’t help but feel so damn bad given everything that’s happened to you. And he knows that’s how the squad feels too. Sure, you could handle yourself on your own, but no one wanted to let you. It’s in Olivia’s eyes when she looks at you sympathetically, it’s in Amanda’s hand when she squeezes your shoulder, it’s in Carisi’s insistence on putting himself in harms’ way so you wouldn’t ever have to take the fall: Poor baby. We’re the only tenderness you’ve ever known.

And maybe that’s true, maybe this squad was the only kind of lasting kindness you’d ever been shown. You don’t talk much about your past, and that’s fair, because Rafael doesn’t think there’s much that would be pleasant to recount. After the rape, middle school was difficult for you, as was to be expected, and you didn’t have many friends that stuck around. He’s never heard you say a word about high school, and sure, college was probably a lot better than the hell you’d been through before, but you had no one you kept in contact with from there, not even the woman you mentioned sleeping with before. Maybe life hasn’t handed you all the wrong cards: you’re gorgeous, you’re intelligent, you’re great at your job.

But in the interpersonal sphere, you’re lacking, maybe as sorely as Rafael, and that’s something he never quite thought about until now. You didn’t wear it like he did though, and you still had hope, somehow, whereas Rafael’s supplies of optimism had been used up over the years. Maybe one day you’d run out, too.

Leave it to Rafael to bring the melancholy to a birthday party.

But you wouldn’t bring the squad home; you couldn’t. On the nights you didn’t spend at Rafael’s or the nights he didn’t spend at your apartment, you were as alone as he was. He wonders, did you sit there and stare at the walls, struggle to sleep without him by your side… or did you not care?

“Honey, I was talking about you,” you say, giggling a little, and he feels your hand on his shoulder bring him back to the present. “You’ve been out of it, tonight, huh? Anyway, I was going to ask if you’d tell them about your theatre productions—“

“Oh, Jesus, (y/n), why the hell are you going to bring that shit up?” he asks, feeling a slight blush creep up his neck. “I told you about that in confidence.”

“Oh, come on. It’s cute.”

“Yeah, come on, Barba. She’s the birthday girl. You gotta do what she says,” Carisi chimes in.

Rafael glares at him and sighs. "Fine.”

“Floor is yours, Counselor,” Amanda says, winking. “Maybe you can sing for us, too.”

“Fine. I was in theatre in middle and high school. Happy?” he snaps. He knows he shouldn’t be so mean, and this was trivial, but he could do without the little jabs from the squad and your puppy-dog eyes.

“Why do you have to be like that, Rafi?” you ask. “Come on. Tell them the production in eighth grade.”

“This really means that much to you?“

"Will you just tell the story?” you ask. “No one will make fun of you, honey. I won’t let them.”

“Mm. Right. Well, my school couldn’t get the licensing rights to anything actually good that year for the Christmas musical… so we did A Christmas Peter Pan. It was about as awful as you think it would be.”

“What part did you play?” Olivia asks. Of course she’s the only one at the table who’s not tittering with laughter.

“I didn’t try out soon enough, and they didn’t have any parts left… so I played the crocodile.”

Amanda damn near spits out her drink, and Rafael rolls his eyes as Carisi laughs heartedly and Fin and Nick try and fail to not crack teasing smiles.

“I just really can’t picture that, Barba. Damn,” Carisi says after he calms down. “How bad was the costume?”

“What do you think a middle school theatre department could put together?” Rafael asks, narrowing his eyes. “Anyway. I didn’t have any lines, at least.”

“No, but you had three scary entrances,” you tease, grinning brightly and squeezing his shoulder. “Hey. It was your debut. I can’t wait until I get your mother to show me pictures—“

“Send them to me,” Amanda says. “I’m begging you.”

“I’m going to get my mother to burn that scrapbook before you’re ever in its vicinity,” Rafael mutters, chuckling.

“Aw, come on, honey, don’t be like that. You know I’d never let Amanda see them. Sonny, maybe—“

“Hey!” Amanda interjects while Rafael shoots you a withering look.

“No, I wouldn’t let him see them either. Some things are actually meant to be shared in confidence,” you laugh. “But anyway, Rafael went on to bigger and better things. He played Kenickie in Grease sophomore year, right? And you got the lead senior year?”

“Mm. Nathan Detroit. Guys and Dolls.”

“I have no idea what that is,” Carisi says.

“Of course you don’t,” Rafael retorts.

“It was a big part. He says his mother has a tape of that somewhere—“

“Are you trying to kill me, (y/n)?” Amanda asks exasperatedly. “The knowledge that that’s on film and I’ll never see it?”

“Mm. Deal with it. That’s not the one you wanna make fun of though,” you say. “Rafael can sing. He never will in front of you guys now, but he can.”

Right. Little things he’d shared with you, maybe without even meaning to, and now you could list them off as nonchalantly as if you were talking about yourself. Did any of his ex-lovers ever bother to learn all his amateur theatre roles front to back?

Thankfully, the waitress brings the cake over after a few minutes, saving him from more humiliation, and everyone, even Rafael, obliges and sings ‘Happy Birthday’ to you before you blow out the candles.

“Well, our blessings, (y/n),” Olivia says, grinning.

“Don’t tell your wish or it won’t come true,” Fin chuckles.

“Actually… I didn’t wish for anything,” you say, shrugging.

“What do you mean, you didn’t wish for anything?” Carisi asks.

“Tell, but lie,” Nick says.

“Nah. I’ve got everything I want. Thank you for including me in your thoughts, your lives—“

“Aww. Stay exactly as you are, (y/n),” Carisi says, reaching over to squeeze your hand. “What a sweetheart, huh, Barba?”

“Everyone adores you, (y/n),” Amanda laughs. “What an awful thing.”

Yeah. Everyone did adore you - but you weren’t an unshakable tenant in anyone’s life.

And, come to think of it, neither was Rafael. Rafael was always confused as to why the hell you even approached him all those months ago, flirted with him, got him to buy you dinner… but fuck, it was clear now. You were alone, grasping at straws just like he was. A couple months in the city you dreamed of living in since you were a child provided you with nothing more than acquaintances you worked and occasionally got drunk with, and maybe it was human nature to want more than that.

Yet here you were insisting that you didn’t wish for anything. What the hell? Didn’t you want more than what Rafael was giving you? Shouldn’t you?

Fuck if he knows. He’s not even sure what he wants anymore, never mind what you want.

——

Rafael has never been above sharing his body for someone else’s pleasure. It felt good to give in this regard, and fuck it, if anyone deserved to have a good, healthy sex life it was you.

It had been a long road to get you comfortable - yes, the first time you had sex with him you were more than a willing participant - but he’d notice sometimes when he initiated things, you would space out and become unresponsive. That was absolutely not going to work for him. He’s been prosecuting sex crimes long enough for that to turn his stomach in the worst way. The last thing he’d want is to take advantage of someone who was lying underneath him just because they thought it would appease him, not because they genuinely wanted to be there.

You got mad at him the first time he brought it up; said he was reading too much into things - but eventually you came around and admitted what had made you uncomfortable, what had turned you off, what had made you freeze, and what it came down to was years of trauma that no one had bothered to work through, not even yourself. What started with the rape went on to college boys who wouldn’t keep their hands to themselves and tried to pressure you when you weren’t ready - and you’d never quite learned to say no. You said you didn’t want to share this, didn’t want him to think you were some perpetual victim or that you didn’t enjoy sex - because you had had positive sexual experiences aside from Rafael, obviously - but sometimes all it took was a touch in the wrong place and you shut down. You still had issues here and there, but at least you’d actually fucking talk to him now, which was progress. He would’ve thought for an SVU detective with a psychology degree this wouldn’t be an issue, but maybe it’s how it goes - you put all your energy out there for the victims and you never learn how to unlearn your own toxic thought cycles and behaviors.

Also, Rafael learned, through trial and error, that you liked to be praised. Maybe it was after years of being ashamed of your body and sex, after years of feeling like you were inexperienced because you never met anyone worth having experiences with… but it was almost like you got off on it and Rafael wouldn’t really mind if that was the case. You are a good girl - his good girl - especially now, as he’s sitting at his desk chair in his apartment and you’re riding his thigh, your dress ridden up to your waist. Your lips are kiss-bruised and you’re so wet he can feel you seep through your panties to his dress pants.

Fuck it if you ruined them. Fuck it if you ruined him.

“Yes, good girl, you gonna get off on my thigh, (y/n)?” he asks, his voice low in your ear.

“I don’t know if I can,” you laugh. “Might need some assistance.”

“No, I think you can. Want you to try it. You think you’re close, mi buena chica?”

“Mm, don’t know. I didn’t think I was gonna have to work this hard on my birthday,” you say, leaning down to kiss his mouth. “Don’t you think those hands could be of good use somewhere?”

“Maybe. Where do you want them?“

"Mm, fucking everywhere,” you drawl.

For Rafael, sex was always just fun. Usually, it was better if he knew the person at least a little, but after Yelina, he didn’t care as much and was a little more of a libertine. Sex with you, though; it’s different - it’s a conversation - maybe like it’s supposed to be, sharing what you can’t or what you won’t say with words.

Maybe he should feel more flattered, because you were sharing a lot, too.

Rafael gives you what you want, though, cupping your breasts as he kisses you, murmuring words of encouragement in your ear in between - “Yes, just like that, you can do it, come for me, such a good girl, come on, cariño” - and when you do finally fall apart, he peppers your face with kisses. “See? I told you.”

“Mm. Sometimes you’re right,” you giggle, kissing the side of his mouth. “But I’m not working that hard for the next orgasm.”

“Fair enough,” he chuckles.

And you don’t; Rafael brings you over the edge with his tongue and fingers, but you’ve barely come down from your high before he’s on his back, at your mercy instead.

“What are you doing? Didn’t think you wanted to work for it anymore,” he teases as you press kisses on his chest.

“Nah, you’re gonna fuck me, hombre, but I want to do something for you first,” you purr, trailing down lower, lower, lower…

“It’s your birthday–”

“Mm. Yeah. But now I just guaranteed that you have to go down on me on yours,” you giggle. “No. We’re not counting favors here, right? Just let me.”

And you’re so good. You always are, but every time just seems to get better as you learn more of what he likes, what gets him off. He wonders vaguely if he you feel that way too, but he doesn’t have much time to dwell on that as your lips wrap around his cock. “Fuck, so good, (y/n),” he hisses. If he wasn’t almost painfully hard before he definitely is now. “That’s it, oh fuck.”

One of your hands comes to cup his balls gently as your tongue and lips work his cock and it’s hard to remember that you were ever tentative giving him a blowjob before. Maybe that’s the thing about sex; everyone thinks they need experience to be a good lover, but maybe they don’t. Maybe they just need to listen to their partner. Rafael’s slept with people who have slept with countless numbers of people but no one��s ever learned his body like you, and your count was much lower. Granted, Rafael never quite allowed himself this type of vulnerability with anyone else in recent history, either, but it was only fair that if some of your walls came down some of his did as well.

Still, he has to make sure you know that by gasping out praise and encouragement, tangling his hands in your hair, being careful not to pull too harshly. “Fuck, so good at that, sucking my cock so good, se buena, mm, fuck.”

Eventually, though, Rafael can feel that he’s dangering the brink and has to stop you. Switching positions again - you’re on your back for him now - and he’s lining up his cock with your pussy, making sure you’re still good. With your consent, he enters you, groaning softly at finally feeling you wet and warm around his cock.

“God, you’re fucking gorgeous, you know that?” he grunts as he starts fucking in and out of you, slowly at first.

“I’d hope you think so,” you say.

“Think - no. You are. Fucking gorgeous.”

Your cheeks flush a little and he can’t believe you still get flustered when he tells you that. But you are a vision - hair splayed on his pillow, your breasts heaving in tandem with your breath, your skin shining with a slight sheen of perspiration. Yeah. Fucking gorgeous.

And, oh fuck, now you’re clawing at his back, scratching with your nails. A shiver runs down his spine as he fucks into you harder, “That good?”

“Fuck, yeah, Rafael, fuck me,” you whine and he leans down to press a searing kiss to your mouth.

“Mm, so pretty, taking my cock so well, cosita bonita, so good for me,” he rasps in your ear.

You’re meeting him thrust for thrust; the only sounds Rafael can hear is the slap of skin on skin and his heart pounding in his ears as he kisses up and down your neck. “Mm, Rafael, feels so good,” you purr, and yeah, now he can see why you get off on those simple words of encouragement.

It’s not long before the two of you reach your highs and come down, a panting, tangled mess twisted up in his bedsheets. “Mm. Feliz cumpleaños, cariño.”

“Yeah, happy birthday to me,” you laugh, leaning over to snuggle against his chest. “Fuck, I’m exhausted now.”

“Thought I was supposed to be the old one.”

“Like you could go for another round right now.”

“Try me, mujer,” he chuckles. “Shower?”

“In a minute,” you giggle. “Let my heart rate come down a little.”

The two of you lay there in silence, your breathing rates settling while Rafael’s mind sets off to the races again. You were right, earlier, eight years was a fucking long time and it didn’t get any easier to be alone.

It doesn’t get any easier to be with someone, either, though, like when you wake him up too early in the morning and ruin his precious sleep, or when you make snide remarks that ruin his day and bruise his ego or, worst of all, as always: when you see right through him, like the front he puts up just doesn’t exist.

Maybe, though, maybe he’s a masochist because god forbid you leave. Here he was, carving out hours of his precious time; time he used to tell his mother he never had to spare, and sharing it with you. And you wanted him to.

Rafael doesn’t know what the hell to make of that.

Tag list: @caked-crusader @thatesqcrush @law-nerd105 @arabellathorne @blackeyedangel9805 @moon-river-drifter

#rafael barba x reader #rafael barba x you #barba x reader #barba x you #raul esparza #ada rafael barba #svu fanfiction #svu #law and order svu #rafael barba #law and order special victims unit #law and order: special victims unit #thatesqcrush kink bingo

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longitud-de-onda · 4 years

Text

on my mind

pairing; javier peña x female reader summary; you’re trying to have a peaceful night in when javier brings home yet another informant, and while you brace yourself to hear the noises all night, you’re surprised to hear something else. rating; t warnings; strangling, medical inacurracies probably, some angst? idk it doesn’t feel super angsty to me but y’all’ll probably think it is word count; 2.4k requested; by anon “You are his next door neighbor and friend. At night, you often hear his escapades through the wall. One night, things sound more like a fight than sex. You aren't sure what to do. You have a key to his apartment. You sneak in to see what is going on. Javi's informant is strangling him with his tie for real. She runs away, Javi regains consciousness, & tells you that he thought he was going to die and the only thing he could think about was that he never told you he loves you.”

Javier fucking Peña. You’re gonna kill the man since this is the fifth time this week he’s brought a girl home and it’s only Wednesday and it’s 8pm and you want to relax after a long day. You can hear them coming up the stairs outside the building, the loud Spanish obscenities spilling from their lips in the hallway, the jingling of the keys as they enter his apartment.

He’s been doing it since you got to Colombia all those years ago, but it never ceases to hurt. Doesn’t he know how much noise he and all the women he has over make? Doesn’t he know how thin the walls are, that if they and you are in the right rooms in your respective apartments, you can hear every last word they say?

You’ve been Javier’s partner for what now feels like forever. And at some point between hiding behind walls during drug busts and the thrilling car chases through Bogotá, you fell in love.

Sometimes you wonder why you haven’t made a move. There are times when he grins at you after breaking a case or finding a lead and your heart soars, nights out drinking at bars, days where you’re on the hunt and you have each other’s backs when you wonder if maybe he feels the same.

But you have to be reminded multiple times a week that your job relies on him fucking multiple women for valuable information, loudly.

He’s even gone so far as to offer you a night in bed with him. Multiple times. Those days are the worst. You know it would only be a one night stand and if you said yes it would break your heart.

So you settle for loving him from afar. You respect him enough to know that your feelings would only ruin things. If how he is is what makes him happy, then who are you to stop him?

You walk over to your bedroom to grab your walkman and try to drown out the sounds that will inevitably begin, hope you’ll be able to curl up on your couch and read the book you’ve been trying to start.

It takes all of three minutes for the sound of whatever is happening to breach the weak plastic of your headphones and you groan.

This is really the last straw. It’s been such a long day and Javier only made it worse by letting his hand linger a little longer than was considered friendly when handing you your coffee this morning and taking you out to lunch just to get out of the building. And then he had the nerve to leave early so that he could meet an informant, and you were stuck finishing up the paperwork, only to return home to the same sounds you were hearing now, finishing up.

You throw your headphones off and stand up. You were going to storm over and give Javier a piece of your mind when you hear something that is distinctively not sexual. It sounds like they’re fighting, there are some thumps on the floor that cannot feel good and you think you even hear something shatter.

You almost lunge over your dinner table to grab your handgun, and exit your apartment, quietly slipping over to his door, hoping he left his door unlocked. You try the handle and it glides right open. Leave it to Javier to forget to lock it in the heat of things.

You thank everything working in your favor that Javier has an entry hallway and you’re able to enter the apartment, back pressed against the wall, unnoticed. You slide closer, and the fighting has quieted. There’s no longer any human noises, just the sound of grappling, and that could definitely be sex and you really don’t want to walk in on that, but you assume the worst, Javier could really be in danger.

You peak around the corner and you freeze up. Javier is on the floor, some woman has her hand gripped around his tie and is pulling, hard, from behind. His face is bright red and a bit puffy and you notice he is unconscious.

“Hey!” you yell, pointing your gun at her, and she startles, dropping the tie, and Javier’s body flops to the ground.

You stare blankly at the limp body of your partner, which gives the woman enough time to slip out of the open window to the balcony, and you watch as she jumps over the railing, only a few feet to the ground below from the first-floor apartment.

She shouldn’t have gotten away. You could have shot her. You know that. But your breathing is shaky and you still are holding your gun up at the window, seconds after she’s gone, staring at Javier.

You finally come to and rush to the ground beside him, kneeling by his head. He can’t be dead. He just can’t be. You let out a sob and your throat is tight and pained with the oncoming tears. If Javier is dead? You don’t dare to think about what you would do.

You pull his arm into your hand, searching for a pulse, and upon finding it, you let yourself relax for a brief moment, before peeling off the tie from his neck. His skin is red and marred with a thick ring of abrasions from the rough fabric, and there are some frantic scratches on either side, suggesting he had further injured himself trying to get out.

You reach out a hand to touch the wounds, gasping as you feel how hot his skin is.

Javier sputters under your touch, his eyes springing open and coughing a few times until he calms down.

“Javi!” you exhale, “Javi, holy shit, I thought you were dead.”

He’s gasping for air, and you help him up, dragging his body over to the floor beside the couch, propping his back up against it.

You know he’s going to need treatment for the wounds on his neck, and you jump to your feet, rushing over to the kitchen. You open the freezer and push things around until you find an icepack and then throw open some cabinets, searching for some sort of pain medication. There. Inside one of the cabinets lies a few bottles of pills alongside a pitiful looking box of bandaids.

You bring the two items back to the living room where Javier is taking shallow breaths, and you sink to the ground next to him. The bottle is placed on the coffee table and you grab his hand and bring it and the ice pack to his neck, helping him hold it in place.

“Javi, when you’re ready, these pills are on the table here, you should take them,” you say.

“Y/N.” It’s the first word he’s said since you entered the apartment and you exhale shakily while managing to break a smile. He leans his head back on the couch, looking at the ceiling. “If you hadn’t come, I’d be—I’d—”

“Javi, don’t say that,” you say, “You’re okay now. That’s what matters.”

He brings his head back up and turns to look at you. You can feel his gaze but you really don’t know what to do. What to say. You look at the ground, waiting for something.

That something comes after almost five minutes of silence.

“If you think you can swallow you should try to take some pain meds,” you say.

“It doesn’t hurt much,” he says, voice hoarse. You know he’s lying.

“Still.”

Javier reaches forward to grab the bottle, sets down the ice pack, unscrews the cap and pours a pill into his palm. After swallowing, he replaces the ice on his neck, wincing at the contact.

“Do you need anything else?” you ask.

You want to say so much. You want to be mad at him. Mad that he got himself into this goddamn mess. But you can’t. All you can think about is how lost you would be if he hadn’t made it. How scared you had been, seeing him unconscious on the floor. The last time you had spoken with Javier about him doing this, about sleeping with the informants, it hadn’t gone well, and after today? You regretted every word you had said.

“Javi, you can’t keep sleeping with people to get information,” you said, slamming your hands on the desk after he brought up speaking with a fourth prostitute that week who he said would have valuable intel on one of Escobar’s sicarios.

“It works,” he shook his head, continuing to pack up his things.

“It works, but at what cost?” you threw up your hands, hoping it would emphasize your point, but Javier wasn’t even looking. “If someone finds out?”

“Tell me our most valuable leads haven’t resulted from it?” he said and he was right. Most anything of substance had come (quite literally) from Javier fucking them. But that didn’t mean you had to be okay with it.

“What if one of them knows what you’re doing? They get paid to get close to you? Try to take you out or something?” you said, voice getting dangerously loud.

“God, Y/N, you don’t have to be such a stickler for the rules, we’ve broken enough already. And I only do it with the women I trust,” he said, now at the door to your office about to leave.

“Fine, go fuck whoever you like, just don’t come running to me for help when you get hurt,” you said.

It had been four months since you had that conversation, but the irony of it all didn’t escape you. You felt bad after saying it but you feel even worse now.

“Please stay,” Javier croaks out beside you.

You nod. “Okay.”

As much as it hurts to sit next to him tonight, you can’t deny him anything. Not tonight.

It’s quiet for a while. You bring one leg up to your chest and with one hand trace little circles into the carpet.

“I thought I was going to die,” he says. He drops the ice pack in his lap. “The only thing I could think of was that I wouldn’t have gotten the chance to tell the woman I love how much she matters to me.”

Now it’s your turn to throw your head back on the couch and stare up at the ceiling. You blink a few times, realizing there are tears in the corners and you don’t know where they came from. You had gotten good at pushing your feelings away, but now, knowing that Javier had almost died? You don’t know what you would do if you had lost him. Life without Javier? It would probably break you.

And then there’s this woman he’s speaking of and you don’t know what to think of it, because Javier? In love with a woman? Singular? That wasn’t anything you had heard of. You couldn’t picture him falling for someone, wanting to spend a life with her. But you supposed it made sense. In the face of death, people realize exactly what they want in life.

It had happened to you, a couple times. Almost anyone in the field here in Colombia had those moments. Bullets flying inches from your face. Explosions where you’re caught only a few feet away from being fatally injured. Falls through unstable flooring in the apartments in the poorest parts of Bogotá. For you, those moments reminded you how important certain people were.

You didn’t have much family back home, no one significant enough to worry about, that’s why you took such a dangerous job so far from the States. But you remember waking up in the hospital a year ago, a bullet having grazed your side. Your final memories before blacking out were the feeling of warm blood pouring out across your stomach and Javier’s face. Javier, who was stuck in Bogotá for the week as you risked your life in Medellín.

“Maybe you shouldn’t waste any more time and tell her,” you say.

God knows you regretted not telling him. It was for the best, you knew. Javier wasn’t exactly the sort of guy to settle down. And the pain of rejection wouldn’t be as bad as the dull ache of seeing him every day afterwards. But if Javier loved someone? And she didn’t know? She deserved to know how much she mattered to him. That she was important enough to be the face he saw before he thought he would die.

“I don’t know,” he says, and you look over at him, brow furrowed. “She doesn’t think very highly of me.”

“How could she not think highly of you, Javi?” you say. You think the world of him, but there were plenty of reasons why someone might not. It’s not the moment to bring those up.

“It’s you, Y/N.”

You blink. Javier likes you?

“I know,” he continues, “I know you don’t—and you don’t have to—fuck. I don’t want to make this awkward”

“No,” you breathe, staring at him and shaking your head, “I—Me?”

You can’t believe what Javier had said. That all this time you were sitting on your feelings for each other, not saying anything.

“Yes, you,” he says, “Since day one, you’ve been the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. And you’re 100% there for everyone we work with. You care about people. You came rushing in today to save me even when you didn’t have to, when I didn’t deserve it. You said all that stuff, and you were right, but you still came—”

“I had to, Javi, I—I care about to you, too.” you say, “I couldn’t let you get hurt. I couldn’t lose you... I love you.”

Javier reaches an arm up to cup your cheek. Every inhale and exhale feels slower than ever before. His face has softened, a faint smile crosses his lips, more than his usual stern expressions ever allow, and there’s a certain something in his eyes, a glistening, and you bite your lip instinctively. And that’s when he leans in to take your lips in his own, and you, sinking into him, climb to your knees so that you can wrap an arm around his waist and intertwine your other hand into his hair.

It’s perfect until it isn’t as Javier jolts away with a noise that sounds painful and you jump back.

“Are you okay?” you’re back into panic mode, “Did I hurt you?”

“No, I, uh.” He lets out a breathy laugh. “I think I got too into it, moved my neck too much.”

“Do you need—”

“No, Y/N, I don’t need anything. I’m fine. I just, I need you,” he admits.

“Me too,” you say and sit back down next to him, leaning your head against his shoulder and reaching down, grabbing his hand, and interlocking his fingers with yours.

taglist; @pascalisthepunkest @turquiosenights @el-lizzie @sparrows-books @dxxkxx @opheliaelysia (edit: i completely forgot to tag @letaliabane i’m so sorry my document with my taglists was all messed up)

#javier peña #javier pena #javier peña x reader #javier pena x reader #camila writes #rated t #under 5 #reader #angst?#angst #request #pedro fics #narcos fics #javi x reader

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mirkwoodshewolf · 4 years

Text

My life, The Doctor; 10th Doctor x Nurse!reader

*Author’s note*

Hey guys I know it’s been awhile but I finally decided to work on another story outside the Queen/BoRhap fandom. Now this request came from @originalposter96 idk if this is your user name anymore but I hope you’ll be able to see it.

NOW WARNING HERE I AM NOT A DOCTOR OR A NURSE!!! So I know absolutely NOTHING about surgeries or anything like that, so this may seem as lazy writing (sorry) but I hope you all still enjoy this fic. So since this does involve the reader being a Nurse there is a hospital involved, surgeries, blood, removing bullets, gunshots, and a slight trigger warning for Domestic violence (not between the Doctor and reader just some side characters).

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@dancingcoolcat

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@ixchel-9275

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There have been many wonderous places I’ve been to, many wonderful people and creatures I’ve met. They all come and go in my life, whether through my adventures or by time itself all beings enter my life one way or another. But throughout all my previous lives, every single being in the Universe that I had ever known, one person was above and beyond special.

Her name was (Y/n) (L/n). And she—is and will always be the love of my life.

For a human she was extremely clever, sharp as a whip, but she was also kind, loyal, and the one thing about her is that she never gives up on anyone. As a Head nurse—oh did I forget to mention that? Yes my (y/n) is one of the best Nurses in all of England.

Anyone in her time or even in the future when she finally becomes an M.D. will tell you that she is one of the best. In fact she finds out future cures for worldwide pandemics (of course sometimes her board would deny her research and billions of people perish. Rotten bastards). Anyways, my (y/n) truly is one of a kind amongst the humans and I am glad to have met her.

And won’t she be surprised when she sees me. It had been awhile since I had last seen her (maybe since the day she graduated medical school just a year ago her time) and now with the Cybermen and Daleks taken care of, now’s a good a time to go see her.

I set the coordinates for her time period and flipped the switch allowing the TARDIS to activate and soon going through time and space.

*My POV*

April 14th, 2015, 10:05pm. It had been a long day. 5 surgeries, 3 MRI scans, a cancer treatment report, and 2 women in labor later, I was just about to drop right there on the floor. I was thankful that in like 20min. my shift was gonna be over.

“You look like you’re about to drop dead right on the spot.” I snapped out of my sleepy stage to see my good friend Chrissie Lang. She and I had graduated from the same Med school together, and had most of the same classes together. She and I are each other’s support system cause in this line or work—it can take a toll on you.

I remember this one time this woman came in at 6 months pregnant bleeding profusely from her legs. We both knew that she was suffering a miscarriage so we told to do what her Doctor told us to do, but by the end of it Chrissie was completely destroyed. She always wanted to be a mum and seeing something like that happen made her fearful for even trying to go for a baby with her and her boyfriend.

So for the next ten minutes after helping the woman out, Chrissie and I just held onto each other and shed our tears before we had to brush it off and move onto the next case we had. For those that say being a Doctor or a Nurse is the easiest job to do, they’re liars. The job can hit you not just physically, but mentally as well.

“After 2 days of not sleeping, I just might. Put on my tombstone (Y/n) (l/n). Died with a heart of gold and a stomach of caffeine.”

“That’s true cause I swear girl, you’re probably the most caffeine addicted person I’ve ever met.”

“I can stop whenever I want, these are just choices.” We both chuckled softly.

“Excuse me ladies, but would you mind helping me with something?” a familiar voice said to me. We both turned to our right and standing there with a bouquet of my favorite color of carnations was the Doctor.

“Of course, what can we do for you sir?” asked Chrissie.

“Hey Chris, why don’t you let me handle this?” I suggested.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, besides you’re about to clock out sooner than me, you go on and head home. I’ll meet you there.”

“Okay, see you later (n/n).” she bid the Doctor good evening and he did the same. Once Chrissie left the lobby, I turned towards the Doctor smiling widely as he did the same.

I immediately embraced him and he picked me up and twirled me around, the two of us laughing together.

“Oh I swear every time I come back, you get more beautiful.” He said as he set me down.

“I’m just happy you got to come back at all.” I said as I cupped his face in my hands. His eyes grew soft as he placed his hands over mine.

“I know what I do is dangerous, but you know why I do what I do.” I nodded in understandment.

“I mean hell it wouldn’t be any different if you were human and worked as a police officer or a fireman. Hell we humans live in a dangerous world, anything could kill us.”

“Which is what makes me the Doctor.”

“It does indeed.” I stroked his cheek with my thumb and that’s when he reached for the bouquet he had set down on the front desk and he presented it to me. “You always know just how to cheer me up.”

“Figured you might’ve had a long, rough day. Thought a little color could be used to brighten up your day.”

“It sure did, thank you my love.”

“Anything for you my life.”

That was a thing between us. When we first started dating each other, we had a little code/nickname for each other. I call the Doctor ‘my love’ because ever since he literally dropped from the sky onto my doorstep, he’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met.

He’s quirky, bit of a goofball, can sometimes blow his top but that’s only when something really dangerous happens and he’s under stress (yeah I’ve traveled with him a couple of times during my time at Med school), but he’s also loyal, brave, beyond clever, and he always puts everyone else, especially the human race above himself. For the last of his species, he’s an incredibly selfless person.

He calls me ‘his life’ because whenever things get too hard for him, since he and I have been through some rough stuff due to our day to day life, I always try my best to comfort him. I know that he’s lost people, just like I have on a job, and it’s not an easy thing to get pass.

So we both try to be each other’s support system. We know there is always loss in the world, but the thing is to not let that be the driving point that always controls your life. You can use it to make you stronger, not let it drag you down any further.

“So how has my brave Dr. (L/n) been since I last saw her?”

“You know I’m not a Doctor yet, I still gotta go through the nursing program and then rise up in the ranks before I finally get it.”

“Oh rubbish, you should’ve been a Doctor right as you graduated.”

“Yeah well not according to the chief here.” I muttered annoyedly.

“Honestly though, that old fool wouldn’t know a good doctor if it turned around and bit him in the arse.” I shushed him but couldn’t help myself from giggling softly.

“You can be so cruel sometimes you know that?” he playfully shrugged.

“Only when it comes to people who hurt you.” he wrapped his arms around me and pecked my cheek. “How much longer till your shift ends?” I turned to the clock and responded.

“10 minutes. But…..I could clock out a little early since there hasn’t been a call.”

“Playing hooky ehh? You cheeky little minx.” He grinned like the Cheshire cat. As we leaned closer to each other about to kiss, the doors suddenly burst open and a frantic voice called out.

“HELP! HELP! MY BROTHER NEEDS HELP! HELP!” a blonde woman around her mid 30’s came in holding her brother who looked to be around the same age as her. Quite possible they might’ve been twins cause I could see some similarities on the both of them. Her brother was completely covered in blood and his lips were blue from blood loss.

“Okay Miss calm down. I NEED A STRECHER STAT!!” soon enough the nurses who were still here for the nightshift ran off as I walked towards the two siblings. “What happened?”

“My ex-boyfriend jumped us. He thought—he thought my brother was a new boyfriend of mine and he—he—oh god this is my f-fault!”

“No, no, no Miss this is not your fault.” As I tried to calm her down, the stretcher bed soon came in and a group of nurses helped the man on his back and began cutting away his shirt.

“I’m seeing 3 bullet wounds to the chest and one on his abdomen. Let’s move him!” I get onto the top right of him as we wheel him into the OR to save his life while another nurse stayed behind with the sister to calm her down.

I washed my hands and arms frantically and thoroughly before getting my shrubs and mask on. Already the destine nurses, assistants and now our head Doctor, Dr. Murphy came in and he said.

“What have we got?”

“Four shots in the upper body, two in the lower. He might’ve lost a pint of blood at least.” Answered Nurse Yasmin.

“Maybe 2-3. His BP is dropping fast.” Added one of the male Nurses, Derek.

“Okay, any of those bullets rupture an organ?” asked Dr. Murphy.

“The one in his lower abdomen is just a centimeter before hitting his small intestine. If we don’t get that bullet out first he could bleed out internally.”

“Okay keep an eye on his BP. I need fluids, scalpels, suction tubs, retractors……”

“Lucy….”the man groaned out.

“(L/n), do your thing.” Said Dr. Murphy. I nodded and came up to the man and said.

“Sir? Sir can you hear me?”

“Yes. Where—where am I?”

“You’re at the hospital. Your sister brought you in. Don’t worry she’s okay and told us what happened.”

“Good….good……She’s safe. I—I’d never forgive myself if—” he started fading out.

“Hey, hey, hey sir, sir stay with me now. What’s your name? Can you tell me your name?”

“Barry.”

“Okay Barry, I’m (Y/n) (l/n). My team and I are gonna help you but you need to stay with me for just a bit. Don’t give up on me.”

“It hurts….it hurts so badly.”

“I know, I know.”

“Give him a shot of morphine to numb the pain.” Dr. Murphy ordered. Suzie got the morphine bag and needle ready and slowly stuck the needle into his left arm. Barry hissed and I said to him.

“This’ll help lessen the pain. You won’t feel the pain as we try to get the bullets out of you Barry. But you gotta stay with me, okay?”

“I’ll—try……” he mumbled tiredly. I placed my hand on his cheek and looked up at his vitals and saw his BP was continuing to drop and his heartbeat was going down.

As I looked around me, frantically Dr. Murphy and all the nurses were working together trying to get all the bullets out of him one by one, less we risk him bleeding out as two teams tried to work out a single bullet. With the main one near his intestines cleared, Dr. Murphy and Nurse Helen worked on getting the few out of his upper chest.

All the while Barry kept groaning every now and then and his eyes were fading fast.

“Barry. Barry hey look at me boy. If you can’t do this for yourself, do it for your sister. From what she said about who had done this to you, you need to stay alive for her. What you did was heroic, but don’t let her see that that selfish son of a bitch won. She needs you, your family needs you.”

“I got the blood transfusion he now needs. Thankfully, we had our last bag of B+ in the storage bin.” A young male nurse who had only worked here for a year, Cody exclaimed as he came through the doors.

“Alright, start the transfusion now! We just got the last bullet out and his BP is dropping faster and faster!”

“You hear me Barry? We’re getting you your life back. But it’s gonna be up to you now. Don’t let him be the victor, not tonight! You hear me?” he groaned and looked right up at me and he whispered groggily to me.

“Why do you care so much?” I took a deep breath in and said as I stroked the hair from his face.

“Because so many people everywhere are already dying every day. Some because time has run out on them, others for serving their country, but there are the odds of people dying for now reason whatsoever. Or for stupid reasons that shouldn’t be a reason why someone should have to die, especially if it’s protecting their family member from some arsehole who can’t tell the meaning of the word No. Now your sister is out there waiting for you, if she loses you, she’ll have lost her Ace. Her only friend that has stuck by her through whatever it was that her ex-boyfriend did to her.”

“He…..always was a……selfish prick!” he coughed out.

“I’ll bet he was. But she survived him, and now you’ve got to survive too. Don’t give him that satisfaction that he took a life tonight. Can you do that for me?” he nodded softly and whispered out again.

“You’d make a great motivational speaker.”

“I was on the debate team back in secondary school. If you wanna hear more, you’ll just have to stick around Earth for a little while longer.” After his final stitches were in place, the blood transfusion began and it was then Dr. Murphy had Cody, Darren, and Helen wheel him into ICU. From there, Barry would be monitored 24/7 till he woke up from his post-surgery coma.

Dr. Murphy took off his mask and gloves before turning to me and he said to me.

“Nice job keeping him talking.”

“Just doing my job sir.”

*Doctor’s POV*

Unaware to anyone else, I had snuck into the upper levels to witness the surgery in progress. I watched as (y/n) stayed right by the young man’s side and kept giving him encouragement to stay alive. But not for himself, for his sister.

This. Is why she would one day go down in the medical books as the world’s greatest Female doctor’s. She always put the lives of the people her patient’s love over their own, then psychologically, the patient’s bodies would continue to fight on until finally they would find the strength to recover.

Of course she will have her failures cause that’s life. You can’t save everyone but you can work harder at saving the ones you can save in the future. She doesn’t let one failure get her down, that’s sometimes the curse of being a Doctor. When you lose people, it can really affect you. Even when those closest to you are the ones you lose. Believe me I’ve been there millions of times throughout my 10 life cycles (she’s lucky she’ll only deal with one).

By morning, the lad Barry managed to make a full recovery. His sister, Lucy repeatedly thanked all the doctors and nurses who helped out with saving her brother before giving her statement to the police.

I waited outside by the TARDIS for my beloved Doctor to clock out, and when she finally came out the poor dear looked exhausted. I extended my arms out for her and she gave me a tired smile before collapsing into my arms.

“Just when I thought I could get at least one early night in.” her voice muffled against my trench coat but I still managed to hear her. I softly laughed and rocked her gently as I assured her.

“I know, but hey if you hadn’t been here, that young man would’ve died.”

“Oh you know it was Dr. Murphy as well as a few other nurses that actually did the real operation to save him.”

“True, but you were just as important if not more. You kept him awake and talking.” I shrugged tiredly agree-to-disagreeing. “Now then, I think after a night like that, and from lack of sleep these past couple of days you deserve to be pampered and see the wonders of the galaxy.”

“How did you—”

“Besides the bags under your eyes, I’ve seen the amount of Starbucks cups at your apartment.” She groaned embarrassingly. God this girl and her coffee addiction, truthfully I never understood why humans choose that as their beverage of choice. I myself prefer a good Earl grey or even sometimes Jasmine tea but ugh that horrible bland stuff they call coffee?! Never. Again. Will that drink touch my taste buds.

“Care to show me the wonders of time and space?”

“Need a pick me up boost?” she nodded. I kicked open the doors of the TARDIS and hopped inside before extending my hand out to her saying, “First question is though; do you trust me?”

“Always my love.” She replied with that loving soft smile of hers as she took my hand.

“Then brace yourself my life, because I’m going to show you the sound of the Universe.”

“You mean…..”

“Indeed I do my love, the Music of the Spheres.” Her smile grew wider and I pulled her into the TARDIS before shutting the doors behind her and together the two of us ran towards the consoles of the TARDIS and I punched in the coordinates and soon we took off for the Music of the Spheres.

And who knows where our next adventure would lead after that? So long as I got my love, my life, my Doctor with me by my side.

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pagingevilspawn · 3 years

Text

Loving You Is A Losing Game- chapter four

hii! okay, before this chapter begins, i wanna say i’m actually pretty proud of it? idk why, but i am. and also, this book probably won’t be updated for about 2-4 weeks.

i really wanted to focus this past week on writing, but i had finals to study for and everything so it took up a lot of time (i say as i watch criminal minds) but yeah, i’m hoping to get a lot of writing done in the next two weeks since today was my last day of school. yay!

without further ado, chapter four of loving you is a losing game!

~*~

"i'm afraid of what i am, my mind feels like a foreign land"

~*~

alex walked with robbins down the hallway, the blonde reciting her speech for the third time that day, looking to the resident for approval, her eyes silently asking him for any feedback he might have. she wasn't normally nervous about these kinds of things, but she felt that the fact that she was speaking to med students held a greater responsibility. these students were the future of medicine. they hadn't experienced the loss of a patient yet, or the crying sobs of parents when they had to be told that their child didn't make it.

the med students were... bright and shiny. they saw everybody in a higher place in their careers as practical gods. so, while she still had the chance, she wanted to root into all of these young minds that no matter what anyone said, peds was hardcore. it wasn't 'babysitting' like she had heard so many of the residents and interns call it.

peds was undoubtedly the hardest specialty. maybe not skill wise, but definitely emotionally. only the people with grit could survive peds. they worked on kids. maybe that meant that there was an everlasting sea of hope surrounding the patients, where they still were able to believe that the magic the doctors gave them could make them better.

but, it was known for a fact that losing a kid was worse than losing any grown adult.

a young life, taken from the word much too soon. it was cruel. so, so cruel. what had this young person done to have its life taken away? what about all the horrible people in the world who walked around free, living their lives? the rapists, the killers... why did they get to still be on the earth while a tiny human wasn't. it was messed up.

but that's why peds was tough.

because, while losing a kid was probably the worst feeling for a surgeon to go through, a success was so much more appreciated when it was one. the fact that they saved a person who had barely even got to live their life yet was the reason why arizona became a pediatric surgeon. because of what she was able to do, this person would get to grow up, fall in love, make bad choices, do things they knew for a fact they would regret later on. and that was truly all she could really ask for.

she was starting to see it in alex too, the peds glow. she didn't want to admit it out loud, for she knew that he would let the cocky part of him show and give her a well thought out retort. but lately, she'd been watching him, realizing that he was indeed serious about peds, that it wasn't just a lame middle school dare that he arranged with his fellow residents.

she saw the way his face would light up when a kid would say 'dr. alex!' so excitedly as he entered a room. she watched how he would spend time getting to know his patients, so that way they would have something to talk about later on if it was necessary. she was starting to see that maybe, just maybe, alex would make a fine peds surgeon.

"so..." she trails off, looking at the man expectantly, not missing the way he looked distracted as he kept his gaze on his feet.

he looks up, giving her a reassuring nod. "it's great robbins." he said sincerely, making her let out a relieved breath. she knew how honest karev could be, it was both a strength and a fault. he always told things as they were and didn't sugarcoat anything. if he thought something was crappy, he would literally tell you, "it's crappy," and that was something she appreciated.

she casts a worrying glance over him, his head hung low as the look in his eyes seemed to show that he was somewhere else. "you okay?" she asks.

he nods, snapping back to reality "yeah. just thinking."

"well, you know what you need to do right? you're like my assistant alex. click the computer's button when i need the next slide, interject when i ask you to..." she trails off, praying that he wouldn't mess this up.

alex gives her a signature glare, a bit offended that the blonde was doubting his abilities. "of course i can. a twelve year old could do it." he retorts.

she gives in, "fine." she walks down the hall faster, not even waiting for the man to catch up to her before she enters through the auditorium's doors, settling in the wings backstage.

it was a few minutes later when arizona is introduced, him trailing behind her like an obedient little puppy as she stands by the podium and microphone.

"hi everyone! i'm dr. arizona robbins from seattle grace hospital," she starts in a chipper voice, already managing to wake up most of the somehow tired students. "and this," says, pointing over to the man at her right, "is my mentee, dr. alex karev."

the man grins at the words, a sense of pride coming over him. the blonde and never used that term on him before and he wasn't going to lie, he really liked the sound of it.

"alex?" she nods towards him, telling him to introduce himself. he makes his way up to the mic, adjusting it slightly so it would reach him better, since the blonde was much shorter than him.

he takes a breath, trying to calm the nerves building in his stomach. he'd always been too cocky and arrogant for his own good, though it was all just an act. talking in front of all these wide eyed med students was honestly a bit terrifying. he pulls himself together quickly, mustering up one of his famous smirks as he looks into the crowd. "hey, i'm dr. alex karev, third year surgical resident at seattle grace, interested in pediatrics. i train under dr. robbins." he explains (incredibly) lamely, but was glad it seemed to be enough, since all the students looked satisfied with his answer.

arizona takes the mic again, starting a speech that he had heard a few times by now, but it had never failed to give his heart another strong tug towards specializing in pediatrics. "peds is hardcore." she starts, using the phrase he had heard so many times in the last three months. "don't let anyone tell you otherwise." she smiles, looking back towards alex with a knowing look in her eyes.

"to most of the people in this room, when you think of peds, you think of kids with runny noses and cuts on their forehead because they fell off the slide at the park. am i right?" she asks, making most of the students in the audience nod.

"you see yourselves as being babysitters, babysitters for tiny humans. well let me tell you, you can't be further from the truth."

"in peds, we save the lives of children. we help kids grow up, achieve their dreams. sure along the way there's the added bits of magic and joy, but it's not always sunshine and rainbows." she says, not missing how some students look down guiltily. "some people immediately want to go into peds when they start their internship. they think that working with cute little kids would be so amazing and working with them would be a breeze, well, they're wrong.

"peds is only for the hardcore. the elites. many people aren't strong enough for peds. some can't deal with losing kids as easily as they thought they could. losing kids takes a major toll on you. we ask ourselves all the time -when we see stuff in the news or online- what did these kids do to deserve the hand they got? they're just kids. why did they get shot the jerk of a man who lives next door?"

it was only the start of her speech -that had multiple parts-, but alex knew she already had everyone hooked.

"losing kids is something you never get over. don't think that losing a kid gets easier every time it happens. in fact, sometimes it's just worse. because you feel guilty. you feel guilty at the fact that you couldn't save this child. you feel guilty at the fact that you couldn't save their life..." she pauses for a second, looking over at alex, letting him know it was his turn to speak. "and now i'm going to hand it over to doctor karev." he was still a bit newer to the world of surgery, so he remembered better what it was like to be a med student than she did.

alex takes a breath, going over the speech in his head. "losing a kid is nothing like losing an adult." he starts

"some of you think that it's the same, some of you think that it's drastically different. but the only real similarity is that someone didn't make it."

he scanned the crowd, proud at the fact that the audience seemed entranced by what he was saying.

"the first kid i lost i was in my fourth month of my internship. i had been on my third peds rotation, but hadn't had a loss yet, which is a bit surprising." he lets the memories flood through him, reliving it, feeling that pain in his heart.

"i remember the day like it was yesterday. i had a couple of free minutes -a major rare as an intern- so i lied down on a gurney, and started eating a bag of chips. a few minutes later i got paged to the trauma bay. it was a three car pile- up freeway. the first ambulance unloaded a woman, emily smith, a thirty three year old female, the second, james smith, a thirty five year old male, and the third was the one i took with my attending, four year old melissa smith."

he bites his bottom lip, knowing he had to be in control in his emotions. even three years later it still affected him the same way it did that day.

"melissa was a little chatter box, talking my ear off as we rolled her into a trauma room. talked about her dog named fluffy, her favorite barbie movie, -princess and the pauper-, and even told me about her new toy horse 'shiny sparkles mchoof the third'. don't know where she got "the third" from but..." he trials off, earning some laughs from the audience.

he smiles his crooked grin, feeling a little bit more at ease. "melissa was strong. real strong. she had a broken arm and leg, not to mention, a lot of internal bleeding, and yet she only shed a couple tears. she was too excited to talk about fluffy and how she taught him how to roll over earlier that week."

"i thought melissa was gonna be okay. i thought 'she's talking, she's laughing, she'll make it'. i learned that day that you can't assume things." he says, glancing down towards the podium for a quick second.

"melissa didn't survive surgery. my attending had me break the news to the parents, which i found stupid because i was just the intern who was supposed to send them updates, but i did it anyways."

alex lets out a shuddering breath, the students in the seats sitting at the edge of them, feeling the hurt of the story as if they were there themselves.

"telling family member's that their brother or mom or dad or whatever didn't survive already sucks. but telling a parent that their kid... their child didn't make it? it's terrifying." it still hurt him to this day. these children were their flesh and blood, products of their love for one another, how do you just simply tell them that the person they loved most in this world was gone?

"melissa fought during surgery. she fought tooth and nail, but unfortunately, it just wasn't enough. but how are you supposed to tell that to a parent? it's hard, because as a part of peds, you need to be good with parents as well."

he inhales sharply through his nose, letting a thin breath through his nose. "the cries i heard from the parents that day made me want to quit." he tells the crowd honestly, making them widen their eyes. "i'd lost patients before that and it hurt like hell. but the day i told the smith's that we lost melissa... it seriously made me question my idea of being a surgeon."

"losing a child is something you never get over, whether you're a parent like the smith's, or just a doctor like me and dr. robbins, losing a kid is not something you aren't able to just move on from, even if -like i said- you're just their doctor."

his eyes glance over the crowd, surprised to see tears in a few of the student eyes. 'that's a bit weird', he thinks. "i wasn't lying when i said that i questioned my career as a surgeon after melissa. i was seriously considering quitting."

"but after a while of brooding, i decided that i wasn't going to quit. if anything, i was going to try my hardest to make sure that kids like melissa wouldn't have to go through the same thing, that's when i got interested in peds actually, but the attending i had at the time was..." he makes a face, trying to refrain himself was saying 'dick', "not my favorite. so, it wasn't until more recently when i got the opportunity to explore pediatrics again."

he sucks in a breath, "all of you guys right now look terrified." he says, speaking the truth, everyone in their seats looked like a cross between they'd just seen a ghost and someone told them their dog had died. "and you're probably wondering why the hell i just said thing that would make you want to do the exact opposite then go into peds." alex says, causing the crowd to nod.

he chuckles softly, "well, all of you guys should be upset, you should be terrified, because that's what peds is. you're terrified every second of every day. but only the best, like dr. robbins, are truly able to handle that kind of pressure."

alex cracks a small grin, " so long story short... if you're a wuss, don't go into peds." the audience laughs and starts to clap as arizona makes her way back to the podium, going into the next part of her speech.

____

they can feel their eyes on each other, the fires in their stomachs growing from the stolen, forbidden glances. it was so wrong of them to be thinking about the night before. wrong to feel like it was what they had been waiting their whole lives for.

how he touched her...

how she touched him...

they way their bodies melded so perfectly together, like two puzzle pieces seemingly snapping into place.

somehow along the way they had inched closer to each other, going from opposite sides of the room to a mere ten feet away. she sipped her nearly full vodka tonic slowly, a large comparison to the night before.

he drank his beer smoothly, only on his first bottle and not even halfway through it.

before they knew it their eyes were communicating, what could only be described as lust, desire, and wanting burning so intensely in them they could set a man on fire.

she reads his dark brown orbs, not even needing to look into them long before she knows what he's thinking, and she knows her eyes are reading the same thing too.

they can feel the guilt through their stares. they were trying so hard not to, resisting so fiercely. tugging themselves away from the pull that was trying to bring them together. they tried to put last night behind them, convince themselves it wasn't as breathtaking as they remembered. they tried to push it into their brains, tucking into a small sealed box in the corner to never be seen again.

lust

passion

romance

they feel it oozing from their bodies, pouring out of single a stare, no matter how hard they try not to. they try to tear their eyes away from each other, oh i promise you, they try to peel their eyes away, they try not to think about it.

he doesn't try to think of her silky skin and the way it smelled like vanilla.

she doesn't try to think of the vibration he sent through her body then he groaned into her mouth.

but they just do.

he can't help the way he thought of her lips and how they tasted like a cherry red lollipop.

she can't help the way she thought about how his lips tasted like spearmint gum... so fresh, so god damn sexy.

they knew that they couldn't, that they shouldn't.

but the heart wants what the heart wants. and their heart? all their hearts wanted was for them to let the waves of pleasure flow through their body again, which only came from each other, nobody else.

nobody has made him feel the way she did. not the countless number of nurses, interns, coworkers, and previous classmates. not even his own wife.

nobody had ever made her feel the way he did. not any previous ex-boyfriends, not a couple random hot-as-fuck one night stands. not even her own husband.

so, somehow, without even knowing it, they ended up where they were now, an abandoned hallway on the seventh floor where he was staying, lips locked in the fiery throes of passion.

gasps escaped her lips heavily as she feels a wave of ecstasy roll over her, even more so than the night before. turns out kissing each other was even better sober than drunk.

he tries his hardest to keep his groans at bay, but the way her hands are roaming his chest, just barely skimming his pants, makes it more than difficult.

before they are about to step into the room she pulls back unexpectedly, giving him a perfect view of her red swollen lips and slightly disheveled hair. "we shouldn't" she whispers softly, her eyes telling a completely different story than the words coming out of her mouth.

"we shouldn't" he agrees, his voice the same as hers.

"it's wrong."

"really wrong."

her eyes bore into his, trying so hard to pull away, but she can't, like some magnetic force is keeping her gaze from wandering anywhere but his deep brown and green eyes.

"we're married." she speaks, sigh falling from her lips heavily as she licks them, savoring the taste of them. they tasted like him.

"we're married." he repeats.

"to other people."

"to other people." he breathes, just the sound of his voice making her heart rate pick up.

she lets out a loud sigh, fighting every internal battle. her head telling her it was wrong. but her heart telling her that nothing was more right. "screw it." she says so softly he almost misses it.

he doesn't even have time to comprehend her words before he feels her lips of his.

and that's how they came together for the second time, it being even more earth shattering than the last.

the first time they could blame it on the alcohol.

but the second time...?

the second time was all them.

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anotherwellkeptsecret · 4 years

Text

Alrighty. Time to type up my surgery and recovery experience.

When I got my pacemaker two years ago, I spent a year (almost exactly) drawing a comic called Change of Pace, which helped me kinda process what happened to me. You can read the comic here if you’re interested. It’s largely all true, aside from the love story part. Tsk.

I don’t think I’m going to be drawing out this experience. It was completely different. I’ve been expecting a surgery of this nature since I was nineteen, when I was diagnosed with Crohn’s disease. So, in a way, this stint in the hospital was harder, more personal. The pacemaker was an emergency. The colon resection was some time coming. Not as much trauma, really. Not as much confusion about what was happening and why. But I still feel like telling the story, purging it from my mind.

I was scheduled for surgery on Monday, the 18th of November. I took off work that Friday so I could have my pre-op bloodwork done and I also took off Sunday so I could start the colon prep. If you don’t know what a colon prep is, God bless you. You basically drink a crap ton (lol) of laxative and spend all night pooping until you poop clear. The easiest version is the Miralax version. If you have to have a colonoscopy, ask for the Miralax. I promise, you don’t want the Go-Lightly.

The day before prep, my friend took me climbing in Memphis to keep my mind off of things. We also went to IKEA. It was helpfully distracting. I had Swedish meatballs.

I was meant to “technically” start the prep at midnight Saturday by not eating anything until surgery on Monday. Beginning to drink the Miralax sometime around noon on Sunday. I didn’t get that far.

I got righteously sick Saturday night. My back was killing me and I was very nauseous and dizzy. I knew what was going on even before I started throwing up. I had a bowel obstruction. The second one in my life. I’d had one once before in March and jeeze. It hurt like a son of a bitch. I’m not sure if every bowel obstruction feels the same way, but mine certainly did. If you find yourself having these symptoms, please go to the ER. Bowel obstructions are no joke. You can go septic, which is incredibly dangerous.

Nausea, feeling like you’re going to pass out, vomiting bile, severely upset stomach, cold sweats, and my back was aching something awful. I assume it was because my stomach was cramping so badly, my back muscles were spasming.

I live with my mother. Have done since I’ve been getting sick so regularly. I woke her up and she took me to the hospital.

The first time I had a bowel obstruction, I thought something was wrong with my heart. (The cold sweats, the nausea.) They rushed me to the back immediately. This time, I knew it was an obstruction, not my heart, and I said as much. They don’t tend to be in as much of a hurry when you don’t mention your heart. Didn’t realize that. I’m also not entirely sure they were convinced I did have a bowel obstruction. I’m sure plenty of people walk into an ER saying random stuff for random reasons, but yeah. I was very slowly processed. I remember them taking my blood pressure and because it wasn’t high at all, I imagine they thought I was full of shit. Figuratively, not literally. Because I was, literally. Whatever.

My blood pressure normally runs very low. I can also take a lot of pain, because I’m on a first name basis with pain. They didn’t take my pain seriously because my blood pressure wasn’t high, I guess. Not my fault I’m a badass.

I sat in the waiting room until I started vomiting bile again. I also pooped all over myself in the processes. Which I didn’t think you could do if you were obstructed, but you live and you learn!

That’s when they got in a hurry. I was making a huge mess.

They got me a paper gown and I cleaned myself up as best as I could before the CAT scan, which proved I was, in fact, obstructed.

So there I was, in the ER, very very early on the Sunday morning before my surgery Monday. I was admitted and my doctor contacted. Since the surgery was so close at hand, they agreed it was best to wait until the scheduled time to do the surgery. I’d stopped vomiting so there was no need for an NG tube this time. Those things suck.

Got admitted. Got a room. Tried to sleep. My surgeon came in and we talked. Got everything situated. At one point my mother told me there was a girl down the hall who’d just had a colon resection if I wanted to talk to her. She was sitting int he hallway with her sisters, eating her dinner. Poor thing had been in the hospital for almost a month.

I spoke with her a bit. I’m not entirely sure what happened. Whether it was nerves or if I was hurting, but I almost passed out in the hallway. I hadn’t experienced anything of that nature since I had my pacemaker put in. The whole point of the pacemaker was to prevent me from passing out altogether. But I didn’t pass out so...I suppose that means it’s working?

I also pooped on myself that night while I slept. First time that’d ever happened. It was then I knew that I’d literally gone as long as I could before I needed surgery. I couldn’t wait any more. I’d been so stressed out over in the idea that I maybe didn’t need the surgery. That I was being pitiful and my case wasn’t that bad. I could tough it out if I really wanted. I realized what a dumbass I was for thinking those thoughts, but hindsight is 20/20.

Monday dawned and surgery rolled around. Took forever. I was basically watching the clock tick the minutes by until transport fetched me. I was wheeled down to pre-op where they gave me a hair net. I don’t remember getting a hair net for the pacemaker surgery.

I signed some paperwork and a lady told me she was going to get me ready. She said she was going to give me a nerve block in my stomach. I was like, “Cool, right on.” Until I saw the needle.

Holy fuck. That needle.

“You’re going to give me that when I’m asleep, right?”

“I’m going to give you some ‘I don’t care’ juice.”

“Oh, thank God. I probably won’t remember this then.”

“Probably not.”

In went the ‘I don’t care’ juice. I got really dizzy.

They swabbed my belly with iodine.

They prepped the needle.

I was still very much awake.

I said, “Guys...” Because at this point there were several people standing over me. Like five. “...I’m still cognizant.”

Yeah, I used the word cognizant. That’s how fucking cognizant I was.

Not sure if they heard me. Or if they replied. I was really dizzy.

In went the needle.

And ow. OW.

In went the needle again. One stick on each side of my belly.

The ‘I don’t care’ juice must have been working in some way because while I remember the pain, I don’t remember the panic. I certainly would have panicked if I didn’t have that juice pumping through me. So that was a thing.

I fell asleep soon thereafter. Couldn’t have been like...a minute earlier? Really?

I remember waking up in recovery with the pacemaker. I remember the pressure, the nurse asking me questions. I remember being wheeled back to my room. I don’t remember jack shit about recovery after the colon resection. I don’t remember being wheeled back to my room. I apparently asked for my mom, but I don’t remember doing that either.

I do remember, however, turning over on my side. Because ouch. But I did it anyway and kept doing it because I’m a determined asshole. Monday night was very hazy. I was high as fuck, probably.

Tuesday: Not a good day. I was in a lot of pain. They gave me hydros, but the hydros weren’t touching it. Felt like I was taking Tylenol. And I have a very very VERY low tolerance for pain meds. They wouldn’t give me any morphine because my blood pressure was too low. (Again, badass?? Maybe?? IDK man my blood pressure just runs really low.) Which makes sense, because that’s dangerous, but I was in agony. I begged for morphine. I pleaded with the nurse to give me morphine. She would not.

My mother got angry. I’m not one to complain. And my threshold for pain is admittedly pretty stout. I was hurting and no one was doing anything to help. My mother got ANGRY.

I think they must’ve finally given me some morphine, but I don’t remember. Morphine also didn’t help. Didn’t even make a dent in the pain I was feeling. They kept giving me hydros every couple of hours to no avail. I remember I asked for a heating pad for my back. Barely. The nurse did give me one, but said I could only have it for an hour? Very fuzzy.

The tech forgot to...do something with my catheter because my urine got everywhere. The nurse that found me like that called the floor manager. I hated to, but I did report that my pain wasn’t kept in check. I was hurting so badly I actually reported one of the nurses. The one that wouldn’t give me morphine. I felt horrible about it, but I was also nearly in tears I hurt so bad.

Hell, the pain was so intense at one point my mother called my family. Like, they thought something was wrong. Very very wrong. The doctor called for some kind of scan while I was in bed. They put a board behind my back. I was writhing, I remember. My family gathered in the hospital to see me in case I had to go back to surgery. In case I wasn’t going to do well.

It was scary.

The next set of nurses figured out the problem when the scan revealed nothing out of the ordinary. My back was spasming. Horribly. When I sat up and they felt of me, they were shocked to find my back riddled with knots. It felt like knuckles underneath my skin. The new nurses got me some hella icy hot with pain killer and rubbed me down.

It helped tremendously. My back stopped freaking out, which gave my abdominal muscles time to rest.

At last, I wasn’t hurting. At last, I slept.

Wednesday and Thursday were spent trying to keep my back under control. At one point I vomited all over my bed due to acid reflux. I paged the nurse to ask for some acid reflux medicine and puked all over the place while I was on the call with her lol.

I never once had any issue with my incision. My entire trouble, the whole time, was from my back. And nausea. And lemme tell ya. Vomiting with a six inch incision on your abdomen? OW.

Getting up and walking? Easy enough. Getting up and going to the bathroom? No problem. Spongebath? Piece of cake. But God my back.

I managed to poop for the doctors. Fantastic.

And finally, finally, I got to have food.

I went from about 5:00PM Saturday to 12:00PM Friday without having anything to eat or drink. I had an IV, and I could eat ice chips if I desperately needed to wet my mouth, but yeah. I hardly had any ice chips. Weird to imagine you can go that long without food and be alright.

I proved I could eat GI soft food on Saturday and they let me go home.

Got my staples removed the following Tuesday. Had some steri strips applied. Just waiting for them to fall off on their own.

And here I am. Just lounging, waiting to get my strength back. It’s much easier to draw after this surgery than the pacemaker one. Thank God. I’m slow moving and my stomach hurts a bit when my contents shift, but other than that I’m doing swimmingly. I can’t lift anything over ten pounds until the new year. Not sure when I’ll be able to drive, either. I’ll find out soon.

This surgery was probably the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Mentally and physically. Mentally because I’ve been struggling with Crohn’s since I was a teenager. I’m 32 now. Half my life I’ve been at war with my own body, drowning in the pain it leashes on itself. It’s been a long road. I hope this spells the end of it. Or at least, the rest of the journey is all downhill.

I’ve lost a lot of weight. I’m trying not to think about it too much. I’ll gain it back. Just takes time.

#personal #medical #tw pain #tw medical #recovery #crohn's disease #colon resection

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