#And the staff too. They were good people and they made a tiny community | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

genuinehc · 2 years ago

Text

Day 4: Pain

Challenge: @mediwhumpmay 2023 Fandom: Deus Ex Prompt: Day 4: Pain Tags/Warnings: hurt/comfort, medical whump, amputation, cybernetics, ableism

Adam tells people he doesn’t remember waking up. In many ways, that’s true.

He doesn’t remember the very first waking… or perhaps he does, but it is buried among the dozens of others, where he woke confused and afraid, unable to remember where he was or what had happened. Blissfully, the memories run together, creating a single ur-memory, from which he can trace the specific triggers of his trauma.

Those memories, dreamlike in their haziness, start shortly after the first cybernetics were installed - the ones that genuinely saved his life. The lungs, breathing according to their own programming, not yet entirely under his control; a heart augmented and protected; a gut that was as synthetic as it was not. It was all connected to a spine and implants in his brain to keep autonomic functions working. He couldn’t see, he couldn’t hear, he could barely move, and what little moving he did - manipulated by unseen people, rolled and lifted and poked and prodded - was accompanied by tremendous pain. For some value of the word, though, he seemed to be alive.

If this was living, he wasn’t convinced he wanted to keep doing it.

Someone eventually took pity on him and gave him some of his senses back: a cochlear implant that finally allowed him to hear the movements of nursing staff, who sometimes told him they would touch him before they did, but just as often didn’t bother. One gave a running commentary of everything he was about to do, asking diffidently if his touches and movements were all right, as if Adam could do a damn thing about them. But knowing was better than not, and someone telling him they wanted to check the various tubes and bags that carried nutrients into his body and escorted them out again made his tiny, painful world that much more bearable.

Cybernetic eyes took longer to adjust to, with electrical signals his brain still struggled to interpret. A woman came every day to work with him. His augmentations, she told him, were very advanced, bleeding edge, really, and she was delighted to be working with them- him, she quickly corrected herself. With him.

If he’d had a hand, he would have tested his spatial cognition and motor control with a hurled cup. As it was, he obediently named every item illustrated in the children’s books she brought and every item in the room he could remotely identify. He would learn to use these eyes in record time if it meant he stopped having to see her with them.

Eventually, whatever visual acuity he was supposed to have achieved was reached and she stopped coming. Small relief, but relief nonetheless.

The worst part of functioning eyes was that he could now see what remained of his body. He knew from the nurse who talked him through his care that there were tubes and bags, but he hadn’t been prepared for the sheer depth and breadth of them, how many types there could be. Drains carried blood and lymph from amputations; a bag for his feces, a tube for his urine, another for food. His chest carried more drains, ports for the augment that would eventually help him carry arms too heavy for a frail human body alone. What little skin he had that wasn’t bandaged or an open wound was wired to a computer, either through his skin, a port, a data jack, or good old fashioned electrodes. His tiny, painful world expanded to include a constant stream of data, communicated through electrical impulses he had yet to understand and incessant beeping he could understand well enough.

A sergeant in Detroit had once told him that pain was how you knew you were alive.

Adam thought he might go find that man and strangle him if he ever got the hands to do so.

-=-=-=-

Limbs would come later, they told him. He asked and everyone told him the same thing: when you’re better. When you’re ready. Don’t worry, Sarif is taking care of it. Sarif is taking care of you. Aren’t you lucky that David Sarif is taking such incredible care of you? He wouldn’t do this for just anyone.

The surgeries were extensive and felt neverending. Just as soon as he had half healed from one, he was being wheeled to another, and another, and another. In the early days, after he was conscious, but deaf and blind and sedated so heavily that he could barely speak; no one was making an effort to communicate with him about what was happening to him. After, a care team so extensive it made his head spin made a point of carefully explaining the procedures in agonizing detail until he prayed they’d stop telling him.

It all would have been easier if he had just been machinery. Instead, they took meticulous care to ensure that his nerves worked, his augmented spine carried signals to his augmented brain, which told him that his body was on fire; that his arms and legs, left behind in the bombing, were somehow simultaneously numb and tingling.

New incisions were nothing compared to the experience of having his skin lifted and separated from muscle, fascia fileted, and dermal armor inserted under. New nerves had to be grown, tested, modified, tested again. When he screamed, a technician calmly nodded and jotted down notes.

No torture had yet been invented that was more exquisitely terrible than this hell of existing in a body that could barely be called that. He stopped trying to look forward to a future where he could walk out. He would never be free of this. If he could even find a way to end his own suffering, they would cheerfully resuscitate him and proceed without a break in their stride.

The scientists and doctors and nurses and technicians all seemed uniform in their assessment: he was fortunate to be alive. He was fortunate that David Sarif cared so much. He was fortunate to be used as a guinea pig in experiments for which he was the only possible candidate, because where else would they find someone who had so miraculously and opportunely been dismembered? Under their own roof! How convenient.

After all, isn’t he lucky?

#deus ex #adam jensen #hurt/comfort #medical whump #amputation #cybernetics #ableism #mediwhumpmay #mediwhumpmay2023

24 notes · View notes

jxtp0sed · 8 months ago

Text

If ever you use a third-party booking app to book hotel accommodations, I would recommend you stay clear of Agoda. I heard the name here and there but never used them. My partner used them for some time & for the second time in Indonesia this trip. They sold us a room at a place with a 9/10 rating on location, value, etc. the price was great and he had just been upgraded in member status so he’d gotten a discount on a discount. It was a time sale too so we only had like 15 minutes to decide on the room. He’s taken care of everything so far and we’ve been enjoying our time tons. We were so excited to get a little bit of an upgrade for the week ahead in Sanur, a new city & change of pace from Ubud. We wanted a nice place to stay with a slow pace so we could still get work done (and save a bit) after staying in a party city like Kuta and a trendy area like Ubud just prior.

We get there early and have some language trouble during check-in. Cool. No problem at all. Thank god for phones and translation software. We get led to a room, any room, it seemed. The room was hot and smelled like mold. Maybe they weren’t ready for us but it just felt so like “okay just take this room”. Which like, okay fine, they probably were not expecting us yet but didn’t wanna turn us away. Again, communication issues. I understand the pressure. The guy at the front at the time (only staff member there then) gave a smile and we exchanged thank yous after all was said and done. But the room. The room smelled like it had been baking in the sun for however long until we got there and we turned on the ac. We sucked it up cuz it was just nice to not be in the sun with all our bags. But honestly the car ride there from Ubud (55min away) was more enjoyable.

The decor. Do not get me started. The furniture was made of cheap wooden particle board. Not my style for sure and definitely an eyesore as it wasn’t even smoothed or coated like maybe ikea/nitori. The bathroom shelving was made of this too. That kind of material exposed to prolonged heat, moisture & lack of airflow is nottttt good.

We wanted to let the room cool down and check out the area cuz honestly mosquitoes were enjoying us and the beach was close by, so we left for a stroll.

The location was also meh. A couple sports bars with late forty/fifty something men and a nearby local beach that was very quiet. Fine, since we were looking to relax and don’t need beach party resort vibes at all, but I was definitely wondering what we would be doing all week within walking distance since there wasn’t much and the hotel left a lot to be desired. Remember it was advertised as a 9/10. There was no communal space. There was a cute pool but it was really small and you could tell that was the focal point of all the photos from the ad we got pushed. The small pool and the room. It felt so tight. The bathroom was large but was behind a particle board door, making the bedroom area feel even more cramped. It felt like a place just to crash, not really hang or spend time. Especially for two people.

I’m not worried about safety here tooo bad compared to other places but on the other hand I’m from NY and I don’t trust anyone anywhere so like the door to our room just being a 95% glass, slide door with a curtain and a turn lock (kinda like a balcony door) and a tiny key did not feel secure. Esp with first floor access and no one at the front desk. It felt like a mailbox lock lol.

Most importantly, the room just was not comfy and there were bugs everywhere, even in the bed. After our walk which I was overdressed for, I was exhausted from the heat and sweating so much and I just plopped on the bed. By that time, the room was cooler. I wasn’t feeling well and I didn’t care about all the ants and mosquitoes and bugs or smell. I was prettt shindoi - I had had a beer while we were out & not much water. After some rest, maybe 20-30 minutes I decided I needed a shower. (That’s when I noticed the particle board door & shelves and stuff) I almost thought it was communal shower I was about to say. I did not bring my own towel this trip (mistake) and was reluctant to use theirs but I mean I had no choice besides maybe air dry, lol. (Which would have been fine but again sliding balcony door with just white! curtain to cover) - uh no.

I think we were both feeling like we wanted to leave the room again and check out the downtown area near another beach, so we got some bikes on Grab (ride sharing but on motorbike) & left. THIS area was a 9 for location and this area had wayy more shops, bars, restaurants, variety of people and was way more upbeat and scenic. The beach stretched forever and we walked for a long long time & found a good happy hour. We had pizza during sunset. The evening was setting in and we eventually made our way back to our room.

We got back, looked around and we decided to find alternative rooms to stay. Maybe I was just noticing them more than before or maybe cuz it was night, but the bugs were to the extent we thought we might not be able to sleep comfortably and were looking for alternative places because a WEEK would have not been possible. We found a room somewhere else and booked it tf out of there. (As we were getting our bags, a big ass water bug/flying cockroach tried to come into the room) and that was the last straw though my partner and I collectively had similar thoughts all day about the whole experience.

We tried to get a partial refund but we couldn’t, and I’m so mad at Agoda for selling us this room for so much money (even though it was discounted) cuz there’s no way it was worth paying for at the discounted rate never mind the usual rate. It was not a 9/10 and I would not recommend it to a friend. Like I could not even bring my mom there. My partner has asthma & dust allergy and the dust stuck in the particle board grooves of the headboard and bugs, mold etc ugh it was just too much. Dont think we will get anything back even though we were physically in the room for less than two hours. We are cutting our losses at this point. I hope they use the money for some better furnishings and bug control so no one else is tricked the way we were. It’s cool if they don’t too, but that rating system is hella flawed and my grievances are mostly with Agoda cuz we wouldn’t have stayed there otherwise/if we knew what we know now.

There’s more horror stories on Reddit and YouTube now that we had time to look into this blasted companies practices. Def doing our due diligence if we plan to use them again this trip. No time sales and double checking all bookings prior to check in.

Super happy with where we are staying now tho. So glad we even had the funds to even do so 😅

Sanur is lovely. We love it here now that we’ve seen many more sides of it 😂

#travel #hotel #storytime

5 notes · View notes

salty-dracon · 1 year ago

Text

My toxic trait? I always tip 50% for my coffee. My average drink costs $6. But when the little kiosk asks me for a tip and has the $1, $2, and $3 options, I always pick the $3 option. That's 50%.

I support my local coffee shop workers, of course! I love them a lot! They work really hard while I sit at a desk all day and set up doctor's appointments for injured teenagers. That's why I always tip them as much as I can. Oh and also I have always wanted to see a barista's face when I tip them 50% at the end of their shift. I just think it would be funny. That's like 75% of it.

But when I told Lacey that, she told me that the baristas aren't allowed to see the tips they get from individual customers. They're usually pooled up at the end of the week and divided up based on hours on the clock. So it's unlikely that anything I did would have made any one barista happy- or freaked them out.

"Don't you worry about embarrassing them?" Lacey asked. We were sitting inside a coffee shop, and I had just tipped 50% for both of our coffees.

"No. I just want to see how they react." I shrug. "It's no skin off my back, and I have the money. Besides, it's good coffee, and the staff is really nice to me. They can consider it a really generous gift for being nice to me."

"You sound like a feudal lord. Maybe that's why Gilligan looks like a vaguely draconic pit bull."

Gilligan, my vaguely draconic pit bull, sits next to me and happily slurps up his puppy cup. Behind Lacey towers a seven foot tall man with huge wings, bone-white scales, and claws for hands. He has no iris or pupils, but I can tell he's looking at me with those moonstones in his eye sockets. He leans down over Lacey and cradles her head in his claws with the utmost of care. He growls.

"Philo," Lacey mutters, reaching up and touching her hand against his cheek as though he's her boyfriend, "use your words."

"She was staring," Philo growls.

"Aw, you're into me?" Lacey jokes, pressing her fingers into her cheek. "No, you'd never be into me."

"But you're so nice to me!" I say. "You bought flowers for my mom on her birthday. She was so happy, I thought she was going to cry!"

An older woman walks up to us, limping on a shiny black cane. Her face looks wizened, and the way her skin wrinkles around her eyes gives her a kind-looking appearance. "Excuse me," she says, "but may I sit with you fine young women? Everything else is just too crowded."

"Yeah, sure!" Lacey shifts so that the woman can sit down in the booth next to her. "We were just talking about tipping at coffee shops. Apparently, they like tipping 50%!" Lacey points at me.

"It's just a way to give back to the community," I retort. "Besides, this place has the best coffee ever."

"I agree. A good friend told me about this place, and said that I needed to check it out."

I notice something on the woman's shoulder. "Oh, there's a bug on your jacket!" I exclaim.

The bug wiggles and walks out from her shoulder. I realize, it's a butterfly. And not any old butterfly, either. Butterflies this bright green color didn't appear in cities, nor did they have tiny moose horns.

"Butterflies can have moose horns?" Lacey exclaims.

"I think it's just a demon," I whisper back. "I've never seen a butterfly demon before."

"Really?" the woman asks. Her drink of choice is a latte, which she sips. "I know that it takes time for a demon to change form according to the actions of its owners, but she's been stuck like this for a few decades now. I wish she weren't. Having a nice strong demon around would be quite helpful."

Philo knows that she's referring to him. He rolls his eyes.

"A few decades?" Lacey asks. She has worry and pity in her eyes.

"That's how it is," the woman says. "In the olden days, those who gifted us the demons did so to prevent us from senselessly killing many people by our own hands. If one got weaker the more blood they had spilled, there would come a vanishing point at which war itself would have to cease. Your big strong man-" -she motioned at Philo again- "would become a cute little dog-" -she pointed to Gilligan- "and finally, achieve the lowest form."

The butterfly nuzzled against her cheek. I'm reminded of Philo's protectiveness over Lacey.

"Then came along the modern ways. Who needed demons when guns and missiles could do the job? And so, warfare continues, even with the aid of little Yorkshires and hamsters." She closed her eyes. "They say that the real reason that demons change isn't because of the lives we end. It's because of guilt. If one were made to feel guilty over a crime they did not commit, their demon would shrink anyway."

"You mean like how my asshole college professor had a lion?" I asked. I begged him for an extension once because my mom had to go to the hospital. He refused.

"Something like that," the old woman tells me. "To feel guilt is the great equalizer."

"So, why do you feel guilty?" Lacey asks. "Is it really that bad?"

"Let me tell you a story," the woman says, her voice growing quiet. "There was once a little girl living in an orphanage. She had many friends in the orphanage. However, she had no food to eat, no good clothes to wear. She watched her friends be whipped into submission in the basement by a cruel headmistress, with even their demons screaming in pain from the bites her own demon inflicted. The child fell sick once a month, and often woke up covered in bug bites, which the orphanage never treated. The demons curled around her and her friends, hoping they would be safe, but always failing to protect them. And so, one day, the girl and her demon decided that they were going to run away."

She continues her story, with a stronger voice. "But the headmistress hired security guards to prevent the children from escaping. They patrolled and severely beat anyone who tried to escape. However, the little girl had an idea. There was one way to sneak past them, and that was if they were distracted.

"And so, she set the orphanage on fire. She started it in the kitchen, far away from where her friends slept, and waited for it to build up before the smoke was noticeable. Under cover of smoke and darkness, the girl escaped. Upon the back of a flying bird, she took to the skies and found a new life for herself.

"But one day, she went back to the orphanage, looking for records about it, and learned a horrifying truth. The orphanage's emergency exits were all blocked off- by ill-placed dumpsters and dangerous chemicals. The pillars of the building were weak and hollowing, and in the heat and flame, collapsed soon after the blaze began.

"She had killed the headmistress, yes, and all of the adults who neglected her. That she felt no guilt over. But how many others did she kill? How many others had died in the blaze? The answer, she learned, as she hunted for records, was everyone else."

"But that's not your fault," Lacey says, placing her hands over her heart. "It can't be. You wanted them all to escape, so how could you have known that all the emergency exits were blocked off?"

"Well, I didn't check," the woman says, finishing off the last of her latte. "Maybe if I had, I wouldn't have done something so reckless. Or, if I'd just stood the pain, maybe I could have found justice some other way, and lived an equally full life." She sighed. "Such is life. Such is guilt. And such is a heart shriveled into the form of a butterfly, from decades of loss."

Humans are born with demon counterparts to protect them.The more innocent and pure a person is the more mean fierce and terrifying their demon becomes.Today you met an 82 year old woman with the kindest sweetest demon you’ve ever met.

#and yes this is something i do in real life. tip 50% for my coffee. and that part about the credit card was a blow to my pride #'hey ma'am nice butterfly' 'thank you! *traumadumps*'#i had a lot of fun with the worldbuilding #pj's shorts

49K notes · View notes

imdoingwhateverisnext · 2 years ago

Text

Interesting Medical Phenomena

It is a well known phenomenon in the medical community. One of the first line defenses for treating diarrhea is to ask a patient to provide a stool sample. Where it may not be an actual cure per se, it has happened enough times for me to write it down.

If a person says the words, "QUIET"" or SLOW" in the ER, it can and usually will anger the staff. For an evidence based practice in a system that is both scientific and regulated, the people who work within it are notoriously superstitious. A person could be black-balled, pranked, or absolutely hated for saying a word from the list of forbidden words in certain departments. Unfortunately a person typically has to say the word to learn it is forbidden. It isn't the best way to educate an employee.

Be warned, different departments might have their own local superstitions too. One place I worked, we were not allowed to order food until after 8:30 pm; during the tiny window of time and opportunity between 8:30 and 9:30 when most of the good restaurants closed. If we broke the rule and ordered before 8:30, we would be so busy, we would not get to eat at all. I would be doomed to eating cold food after getting home at 8:00 in the morning. We collectively agreed it was a phenomenon after it happened enough times. Then the unwritten rule was made.

Full moons are a source of superstitious lore as well. A reasonable and well educated nurse or doctor might be overheard saying something like, "that makes no logical sense. You can't breathe without a pulse. Oh wait, it is a full moon tonight? Shit, anything could happen then."

--------------------Needs EDIT----------------------

#Medical superstitions and phenomena #writing and editing exercises

0 notes

zafirosreverie · 2 years ago

Text

I wasn’t expecting this (Constance x F!Reader)

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. You thought. You were late and it was the third time this week, you were going to be in trouble in the best of the cases, or Miss Cackle would fire you in the worst.

Or Hardbroom will lecture you…again.

You shuddered at the thought. You and Constance used to be good friends back in the day. You had both been Broomhead’s students and there was always a kind of friendly competition between you, because, not to brag, but you had been one of the best witches in the school, only she could rival you.

You knew she had a hard time making friends, and although she tried to cover it up with a tough and strict facade, she had never been able to fool you, not you, you could see the rawness of her loneliness and a longing to belong to something. So you had become friends with her.

Sure, she turned you down at first and Broomhead actually resented your insistence, ordering you to leave her alone, but unlike the other students (especially Constance), you weren't afraid of her, so you kept trying until you managed to get the girl open up to you.

Also, there was a strange feeling about you whenever you were close to her like you belonged next to her. A sensation that felt like something bottled up inside you, something struggling to get out and pulling you to her. But you never said it out loud.

Being friends with Constance Hardbroom wasn't like being friends with anyone else. There was no gossip, games, sleepovers, or jokes, and laughter was rare, there were only reviews of lessons and classes and study.

But there was also loyalty, trust, and a quiet understanding. You knew that no matter what, no matter if you sometimes fought, she would never, EVER, betray you. None of your secrets would leave her lips, nor would she use them to stab you in the back. She always protected you, and you had tried to do the same for her, balance her loyalty with your own, and take care of her as she took care of you.

That was why it had hurt you so much how much she had changed.

You hadn't attended Weirdsister, so your communication with Constance had been limited to a few occasional letters, which tapered off until they stopped altogether. It had hurt, yes, but you knew that you had also been to blame for it, you had given up too easily.

But that didn't mean you didn't know what had become of her, even if you didn't talk to her, you still cared about her, and you were glad to know that she had become a teacher at Cackle's, it was a good school and you were sure that she would be an extraordinary teacher.

You didn't expect to meet a replica of Miss Broomhead when you accepted Amelia Cackle's invitation to become a permanent part of the school staff.

You didn't recognize her at first. Of course, she had the same bearing with which you had known her, she was dressed entirely in black and the tight bun on her head was the same, but it was hard for you to understand that this rigid as a board woman and who instilled terror in her students was your friend. If you were honest, even now it was hard for you to accept it.

You blushed suddenly as you realized how much you were thinking about her, again. You had caught yourself doing it constantly ever since you got here and you hated yourself for it. She had made it very clear that she no longer knew you here, that you were just another teacher and that the past between you was buried. So why couldn't you do the same? If you had always returned what she gave you with the same intensity, why couldn't you return her indifference with yours?

"Maybe because you still have hopes of finding your friend" you thought

A terribly optimistic and unlikely thought, but you clung to that tiny bit of hope.

"You're late"

You didn't even flinch at the cold tone of the voice behind you, nor did you make an attempt to justify yourself. You just shrugged your shoulders and walked on.

"The alarm clock didn't go off" you lied

"A witch should not delegate responsibilities to devices created by people without magic"

"A witch shouldn't talk like a girl to an equal" you said "but here we are"

You turned so you could look at her with what you expected to be a serious and defiant face but only made your cheeks blush more when you realized that she was terrifyingly close to you, definitely within your personal space. When had she gotten so tall?!

"The great wizard is coming" she said, abruptly changing the subject and looking away from you, though she didn't move away.

"But he hasn't done it yet, so I'm just in time" you said, trying to sound casual "besides, it's not like I'm too interested in his show of power today"

"It's a unique event, a rectification of a bad decision made 500 years ago, what's not interesting about it?"

"Soulmates" you said "let's witness the liberation of soulmates, Constance. We witches have lived without knowing how to find our other half for 500 years and it didn't kill us. We both know that this is just a show of power, not a true revolution for magic"

The taller woman just looked at you curiously, but she didn't say anything else. She probably found it strange that you, the more cheerful and optimistic of the two, would be so skeptical about this.

But it wasn’t skepticism, it was fear.

The soulmates were something that the old witches were used to, it was a sacred thread that tied the magic of two beings to increase and preserve it with a force greater than all the magic in the world: love. By loving your soulmate, the bond between magic was strengthened. A simple but powerful fact.

But a grieving wizard who lost his wife too soon decided that if he didn't have that power, no one else would. And he used his powers as a great wizard to erase all existence of the fiendish souls, locking that magic inside the witches. Only another great wizard could free it, but none had bothered to do so.

Until now.

You knew that Constance was right, it was a historical event and that it should be treated with respect and admiration, but you couldn't find any of those emotions within you. Just plain, pure fear of what might happen once that magic was released.

No one knew how it felt, but there were plenty of people who claimed to feel a kind of tug when they were around their partners, and many magical scientists claimed that it was the bond of soul mates, struggling to break free.

It scared you to think about what that meant to you and the feeling that you had felt close to Constance since you were little, and that had only gotten stronger and stronger since you came to work at Cackle's.

“Well, whether you like it or not Miss Y/L/N, you’ll soon have the ability to find your soulmate” Constance said when the great wizard arrived.

“Oh, let’s just hope it isn’t someone gloomy and strict” you whispered, regretting it immediately

“Perhaps a childhood friend” she said

You gasped and looked at her surprised, but she wasn’t looking at you. You felt your face getting redder and it was hard for you to breathe correctly. She couldn’t have insinuated what you think, right?

However, you didn't have time to think about it any longer because the great wizard started the ritual. It was strange, you thought, that he didn’t make one of his long and boring speeches (or maybe he did, you just weren't paying attention, who knows?).

“And now, ladies and gentlemen” he said dramatically “I will lift the curse of 500 years!”

You rolled your eyes, such a dramatic and exaggerated man. Beside you, you felt your former friend tense and decided not to say anything when she took a step closer to you. The woman exuded nervousness, though you didn't know why.

“Do you have faith in soulmates, Miss Hardbroom?” You whispered if only to distract her

“I have faith in magic” she answered

“But you seemed rather interested in this…perhaps there’s someone you want to be linked to?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Miss Y/L/N”

You didn’t know why, but noticing the subtle and elegant blush on her cheeks made you proud. Maybe because it reminded you of the little girl that used to be your friend. You were about to say something else, tease her more, when you felt something through your chest, like a dagger. You realized too late that the great wizard had unleashed the magic, and by merlin, someone modifying your magic that crudely hurt like hell.

You grabbed your abdomen tightly and knelt down, trying to block out the pain as best you could. You tried counting to ten in various languages and reciting various potions, but it wasn't until you felt a pair of arms around your shoulders that you could really distract yourself from the pain.

"Are you okay?"

You looked up to see Constance leaning over you, looking at you with a concern you hadn't seen since you were 13 years old.

"Yes…I think so" you said, leaning into her as she helped you to your feet.

Once you recovered a bit and your mind cleared, you realized how close you were to her. Her scent of herbs and other potion ingredients washed over you, making your legs weak.

"I-"

You couldn't say anything else because the feeling in your stomach returned, the same one you always felt when you were close to her, only this time, you felt the current of magic run through your veins, filling you up inside as if a piece that was missing from you finally would have fit.

From the way Constance looked at you, you knew you weren't the only one to feel it. You were surprised when a purple butterfly made of magic fluttered around you, followed by a green one.

"Looks like we have the first soulmates reunited!" The voice of the great wizard came from behind you, followed by cheers that snapped you back to reality.

Everyone present was looking at you and you realized that your magic and Constance's were in full view, intertwined.

"Congratulations, Miss Hardbroom!" you heard Mildred somewhere in the crowd

"Go Miss Y/L/N!!!" Maud chanted

You looked at the taller woman in her eyes and could see the same fear you felt reflected in her brown orbs.

"Well, I wasn't expecting this" you whispered

#reader insert #x reader #the worst witch #tww #tww98 #constance hardbroom #constance hardbroom x reader #constance hardbroom imagine #constance hardbroom preferences #tww imagine #tww x reader #the worst witch x reader #miss hardbroom #kate duchene

90 notes · View notes

badgirlcovenrep · 3 years ago

Note

omg chenrich prompts? hell yeah!! Okay so how about immediately after the council meeting? Steph taking Alex to the hospital because u KNOW its steph who takes her to get treated

As is expected I got a little carried away 😁

So this is a bit of a mix between chenrich in the hospital and medical grade painkillers Alex lol

Hope you enjoy!

No one could have prepared them for that community meeting. Steph shook all over just to think of Jed luring Alex into the woods. Of him leaving her for dead in some awful mining hole.

It made her so furious. Even hearing him cry, blabbering like a sad shadow of the man she'd known (the man that was all a charismatic lie, showmanship, to hide the disgusting truth) her anger, her hurt was too fresh for the girl to gather any sort of sadness for him.

"I'm sorry, Ryan," Alex repeats, standing at the bar with them.

Ryan is staring, speechless, at his father's crying shadow.

"I'm so sorry-" she tries to take a step forward, but her feet falter, and Alex nearly topples over to the ground, grunting in pain as Steph jumps to hold her elbow and help steady her into the floor once again.

"Fuck, Alex, you need a doctor." Steph insists. But Alex is looking at Ryan with so much concern that she can't get her to move.

"It's not your fault, okay?" Ryan finally speaks, breaking out of whatever haze he'd been in to look back at her, "It's not your fault. I just- need a moment to process all this. Go with Steph, you're hurt."

Alex finally looks at her then, and Steph can feel herself plead with her eyes - because she might not know a lot about these sorts of injuries but she's smart enough to know - just by the way she's swaying back and forth on unsteady feet - they probably have another minute, at most, before Alex collapses.

"You did it." Steph mumbles, voice filling with unbridled pride as well as urgency, touching down Alex's arm to hold her cold hand, "You did it, ok? You can settle down now."

Her brown eyes are hazy, blinking back to Steph with rapidly heavying eyelids.

"Good. That's- That's good." Alex slurs back, the last reminiscent of adrenaline leaking out of her body in a heavy huff, "very, very good-"

Steph barely has a second to process what is happening before Alex's body gives out. By some miracle, she's able to flip her arms around her shoulders just fast enough to stop her from falling to the ground.

****

Pike helps her take Alex to the local hospital before going back to deal with Jed's arrest.

It's a small hospital and probably has about ten rooms, but given that these sorts of things (bad things) rarely ever happen in Haven Springs, they're quickly given a private room, and Alex is just conscient enough (before she passes out from the painkillers) to tell the staff she could stay.

Steph doesn't think she would have left either way. Not without knowing Alex was alright, but it's good to have permission to sit by her as she fluttered in and out of drug-induced, heavy sleep.

The doctor had given her the run-down of the other girl's injuries. Five broken ribs, stage two trauma to the head - probable concussion to be assessed once she was more awake - a punctured lung, internal bleeding all around the ribcage, and a bullet wound to the shoulder.

She was an absolute mess of scars. A walking, breathing miracle.

Steph had heard the doctor talking to the police when she stepped out to get some snacks at the vending machines. "She should be dead." He said, with such conviction and surprise, it made her stomach turn.

Steph felt that she could do nothing but sit by Alex's sleeping form, slowly realizing that she was absolutely screwed. Because she already liked this girl way too much - and God, what a roller-coaster of emotion she'd been put on the last month - but how could she not? When Alex just waltzed into everyone's lives like this determined, selfless little light? When she was so obviously a rare soul, made of so much sweetness, and softness, and strength, Steph doubted she'd ever come across someone like her again?

Looking at the circumstances from the other side now, it seemed as inevitable as any of it.

"I can feel you thinking." Alex's voice startles her out of her thoughts. Steph looks up to meet her tired brown eyes, looking so soft and vulnerable without her glasses and surrounded by clean hospital sheets, "You've been broody lately."

Steph giggles, choking on her own emotion, "Guess I'm still mad about Jed." It's not a lie. She is upset. But there was a lot more than that, more about how her insides swelled with emotion when Alex looked at her - but she leaves it the way it is.

"I forgave him." She shrugs. And Steph knows she did, she was there after all, but that didn't mean the drummer was quite as ready herself.

"Well, I didn't." And maybe that makes her childish - resentful - but she can't take the image of him pointing a gun at Alex out of her head. The image of him pulling the trigger, sending her off to what could very well have been death - "at least you made him cry like a baby."

"Jerk." Alex smiles, eyes squinting back at her in humorous indignation before they slowly turn more vulnerable as she adjusts herself on the mattress, patting the empty space beside her body, "Can you- come lie down with me?"

There's nothing, truly, that Steph would have liked more. She would take any chance of being closer to Alex (and of getting off the uncomfortable hospital chair) but she was also still afraid - still scared something might go wrong and they'd lose her. "Are you sure? You're hurt."

"Please?" Alex pleads, blinking back at her with honest-to-God puppy eyes, even if still a little glassed-over from the amount of Vicodin they were pumping into her veins. For the umpteenth time in the past few days, Steph has even more confirmation that she is screwed.

Because, honestly, there's nothing Alex couldn't get her to do with just a slow blink of her brown eyes.

So she gets up and climbs into bed with her. It's incredibly tight for two people, and they are instantly pressed together as Alex scoots over the pillow so they can look at each other, alone in this hospital room that smelled like industrial-grade detergent.

Alex reaches forward and takes her cheeks between her palms, so very close Steph can't help but catalog all the cuts and bruises covering her face.

"You're so pretty." The girl says, finally, and Steph can hear the tiny slur in her voice. She's probably still drunk on a shit ton of medicine, but it does nothing to stop the drummer from blushing profusely, "you're, really, really pretty. Have I told you that?"

"Hm- yeah you sorta- do that when you're on painkillers." Steph comments, and her eyes can't help but fall to Alex's mouth.

She has a tiny cut on her lower lip, and Steph's fingers itch to touch it. To feel her skin again, like that night on the roof, when she felt so warm and tingly, like a live wire of electricity that could swallow Steph whole. For now, she holds her distance.

"But it's true." Alex pouts, "and you're really hot when you're protective too."

Now that- that was different from anything she'd said before. And when she looks up, the girl realizes Alex's eyes have turned to stare at Steph's lips too.

"Yeah?" She asks, a little too cocky given the situation, but oh well, you can't blame her for the swell of pride that takes over her chest.

"Yeah." Alex teases back, "Thank you. For taking care of me. For being mad at Jed for me- even if you can't do anything about it." Her tone turns sincere, and her eyes flutter everywhere but Steph's face, Alex's dead giveaway that she was trying to hold something back.

"Oh please, I'll rip his mustache off." Steph jokes, because it's her default strategy when she doesn't quite know what to do, "You have lost your right to upstanding citizen facial hair, sir!"

"Fuck, Steph, don't make me laugh." Alex says as a few stolen giggles escape her lips, creating ripples across her shattered chest that made her hiss with pain.

"Shit, I'm sorry." Steph apologizes, and on instinct, she leans closer to run her hands over Alex's arm in reassurance, holding the weight of her body above Alex with her elbow.

From this angle, they were even closer, and Steph was staring at her from above, watching Alex smile at her, head on the pillow and a half-lidded, humorous expression on her face.

"Oh, this is nothing. Just a few cuts compared to my fighting days." She jokes, and Steph's heart is filled with so much concern, so much love for this girl she can't help but fluster with anger.

"Shut up. You're gonna hurt yourself if you don't take it seriously." Steph says, "you're like, seriously hurt, Alex, you could have died."

Steph wants to ask, but Alex's free hand reaches forward and pulls her closer, fist tightening around the collar of her button-up shirt, and suddenly they are so close her hand shakes with the itch to touch her, "See? Protective Steph is so hot."

"I know. I'm sorry." Alex has the decency to look reprimanded, smoothing one hand over Steph's shoulder in a simple act that sends calming waves over Steph's flushed skin, "I'm okay. I promise" she's being sincere, Steph knows she is by the way she frowns slightly in concern. However, there's a quiet, teasing smile spreading across her face.

And Steph honestly used to think she was smooth.

She made girls blush by the minute. Awoke the bisexuality in at least a few of her drunk makeouts on the way from California to here. She used to be a real flirt, ready for anything a pretty girl could throw her way. But sitting here, with her torso half hovering over Alex Chen's body, her tongue feels heavy, and her brain can't conjure a single thing to offer in response.

It's at least a relief that she doesn't say anything, because a second later, Alex is smiling at her with her coy, knowing little smirk, and pulling her in for a kiss.

Steph is far too focused on not crushing her further, very deliberately placing her hands on both sides of her head to better hold her weight, but she still feels the strong, dizzying zap of electricity as Alex's lips touch hers, her lungs filling with liquid, warm waves of emotion.

And maybe, Steph thinks, it'd be fine if she never breathed air again.

#chenrich fanfic #send me chenrich prompts #i dare you #chenrich #alex chen #alex chen × steph gingrich #steph gingrich

168 notes · View notes

more-than-a-princess · 2 years ago

Text

Her new friend was the Ultimate Skater, Sonia had gathered: but Tsubasa did make it seem like the Ultimate Programmer title wasn't too out of reach. "I wonder, if you might be friends with Fujisaki-san?" She asked, following Tsubasa along. "You both seem to enjoy computers! Still, it would be good to see Mikan-san soon: otherwise, bacteria may not be vanquished by your body's firewall, Tsubasa-san! That made sense, I hope?"

She smiled, eyebrows raised in interest. She was no stranger to communicating with those with more unique speech patterns. Her time as Gundham's friend, then girlfriend, and back to friend again had been proof of that: it was more often than not that their classmates looked to Sonia to translate whatever the Ultimate Breeder was attempting to convey. His version of the Hope's Peak uniform also conveyed his nature as the Supreme Overlord of Ice, just as Tsubasa-san's unique attire represented theirs.

"I'd be very honored if you were to design something for me," Sonia spoke in assurance, discreetly looking elsewhere as Tsubasa tackled the array of locks before them. It was almost as complicated as the security for the Novoselic Crown Jewels, but far fewer people standing guard round the clock. "And I do care. I just...I suppose, most of the time, I do not mind what is chosen for me. It is often in colors I adore and quite elegant: I like to feel pretty. And I simply relegate everything my family dislikes to loungewear. Horror shirts are made for watching horror films in, after all!"

"But if you can turn my blazer into something super-cool, I think that would be excellent!" She continued in encouragement as the locks opened fully. "I'm sorry I do not have a suitable denim or leather jacket otherwise. They aren't seen as appropriate attire in my family."

It was likely that the vast array of plastic egg-shaped pods that Tsubasa held in their locker would be equally frowned upon, both as a fashion statement and a good use of her time. But Sonia's eyes widened, mouth agape, as she took in the display. Goodness, there were so many! How did her friend look after them all? There must have been more tiny pods than Gundham had animals currently in his care. Between these and skating, Tsubasa must be very busy indeed. Cool people often were, or at least cool people who had the luxury of choice in their pursuits.

"But how do you even choose one?" She gasped, breaking into a smile. There had to be a plastic egg keychain in every color in the rainbow and then some. "Are they all different animals? How do you know which animal is in which plastic device? It is an incredible collection, Tsubasa-san!"

Sonia had kept her hands clasped together before her, polite with straightened posture as they walked. But at her new friend's insistence, she hesitated for a moment before reaching out with her right hand, gesturing towards a pale blue plastic egg. "I'd believe this one shall suit me, at least by color, then. Thank you very much!"

She grinned. It would pair well with her uniform bag and inside many of her leather bags alike, and it was a cheerful color. Her hobbies and interests aside, she did like things that were cheerful, pretty colors that soothed her. Though the question that poked around her mind was anything but soothing. "Ah, Tsubasa-san, this may be rude to inquire and I do apologize in that case, but I feel I must ask before we meet Mikan-san: what pronouns do you prefer? I'd like to introduce you when we enter and I should not like to have your pronouns incorrect when I do."

Hopefully her new friend wouldn't mind. Even if Sonia herself did her best to mask how uncomfortable she was with asking such a personal question of a new friend so directly. But if she was going to be a normal girl in Japan, she'd have to approach things as a normal girl would: not one with a team of staff ready to assist with her every need.

Tsubasa knew that, probably, they were supposed to go see Sonia's friend about some of their scrapes and bruises, but what was the rush? Sonia seemed more worried about them than they were, and they did promise to show off some of their collection to her. As they entered the building, then, Tsubasa took a careful lead, guiding them off in the direction of their lab. They'd be able to drop some of their stuff off, too. Win-win-win-win and probably more wins somewhere along there too.

"That's actually basically it," they agreed with a nod. "A firewall is a program that keeps shit from messing with your computer. Malicious programs, spyware, viruses, whatever it is, it hits the firewall then bam!" They pulsed both of their hands open for emphasis. "Vaporized without any remorse. Consigned to digital hell." An easy laugh as they shrugged. "Verifying file integrity, you know? If you've got a good firewall, then it means you're just you, you haven't had someone else's code written over the important things."

Normally, their technobabble was hard to follow, but Tsubasa hoped that at least that part made sense enough. It was a big part of their general ethos - to be themselves, unashamedly, unambiguously Tsubasa, no matter what anyone else thought about it. Whether it came to how they dyed and styled their hair, the clothes they wore, the hobbies they participated in, or how they lived their life, Tsubasa was Tsubasa, not anyone else's idea of what the cyber angel should be.

Still, that didn't mean they were stupid. Their situation and Sonia's were different, and while it hadn't been easy, they figured it was easier to stand up to two young parents who'd had a kid on accident and rarely done anything right, rather than an entire national institution. "Eh, I get it, I guess," they murmured, having pulled up to the locker outside of the lab, locked tight with a series of electronic latches and dials.

"Still, I think clothes are pretty important, if you care about that kind of thing." They nodded as they set to work dealing with the admittedly-extreme measures they'd taken to protect their things. "It's the most obvious way to express your individuality. I know I feel a lot more comfortable when I've got stuff on that I bought, or made, myself." They tilted their head to look at Sonia again. "So... sounds like I have to work hard on making something cool for you, huh? And it can be our secret."

Sonia probably couldn't see the wink behind their nearly-opaque sunglasses, but they gave it all the same, just as the last lock sprang open, allowing them to pull open their locker. "I was actually thinking more along the lines of a leather jacket, or denim or something, but I can probably work with anything." Well, it might take a bit of time to figure out how to work with something so fancy, but they didn't mind. Having things picked out for all the time was hella boring, and if they could add one piece of spice to her wardrobe, that sounded like a friendly thing to do.

"But," they added, gesturing to the locker, "the digital pets await." With virtually nothing related to their talent, the locker was instead stuffed with wall-to-wall toys, dozens and dozens of little egg-shaped electronics hanging on hooks, with a small console mounted on the inside of the locker door to make it easier to take one down. "If anything catches your eye, just take it if it's close, or point it out and I'll get it down." The really expensive stuff was at their apartment anyway, so they didn't mind her taking any of these. "I can show you how it works when your classmate is looking me over. Not too complicated at all."

#quickdeaths #Non-Despair AU: Hope's Peak Academy verse #(I'm so proud of her: she asked Tsubasa point blank about their pronouns!)#(Even if she felt uncomfortable doing so: that tea is not sitting well in her stomach)#(But Mikan can help)

20 notes · View notes

ballorawan740 · 3 years ago

Text

SCP Scenarios: SCP 173 (The Sculpture) x Reader | NEW CHARACTER

(Don't ask about that GIF)

I did change 173 slightly in a way that he can move his limbs and communicate verbally, so Peanut here would be a tiny bit OC

First Encounter

You both met in 173's cell

For some reason, when you blinked, 173 just stood in front of you

Like, this peanut didn't kill you or anything

It was more as if he was interested in you

He somehow found the ability to talk

Even patted your head to your surprise

This also supposed the whole of the facility since they've only observed 173 spanning everyone's neck and teleporting

And they've never seen him move his arms since he's a literal peanut statue that secretes poop (and blood I guess)

Your feelings for him

You began to realise you fell for him after someone had mentioned how often you visited the statue

Definitely would try to hide it, to begin with (Cuz it's odd that y'all be falling for a peanut statue)

But later on, you decide to drop hints about it to your crush, Peanut

He looked as if he was clueless

But he definitely has gotten the hint way before you even realised your feelings for him

Because you make him feel butterflies

If anyone tries to flirt with the statue, you would become furious (Cuz you paid for this statue)

Most likely would tease you at times

His Confession

Probably would plan it out

Which didn't work at all

So 173 would just do it out of the blue

To which you agreed of course (Cuz y'all need some Jesus! At least you weren't like Clef when he- nvm)

Definitely surprised the foundation as well since nobody has ever fallen for this statue before (Aside from Clef)

Some would give you both odd looks while others were more curious about your relationship

Probably would conduct tests between the both of you

Only because they want to see if 173's behaviour would change

Like if someone blinked while standing behind you

Date

Since the foundation doesn't let 173 out of his cell, most of your dates would be in there

173 would be similar to 035 since he's pretty chill and laidback

You both would be laying on the floor and looking up at the ceiling

Probably talking about a lot of BS

Probably would tell you his favourite method of killing (which totally isn't snapping necks)

You both would tell each other about your day and peanut would joke around a lot

Is rather sassy as well so if anyone judges, you can always count on 173 to save you

Most likely by snapping their necks

Or sassing them out to the point of no return

When he gets jealous

It's rare to see 173 jealous since he's quite laid back and doesn't really mind who you're with

If 173 does get jealous he would most likely snap their neck

Or just teleport behind you and just stare at whoever is hitting on you

Or he would bend down to their height (if they're short ofc) which does are them off quite a bit

Would definitely drag you back into his cell to which surprised the researchers

Because they found out that the cameras were working and they heard screaming coming near/from his cell

Peanut can be slightly possessive of you

Especially when he knows somebody is hitting on you on purpose regardless of whether they knew you were taken or not

Most likely would ask you who you are hanging out with and for how long

When there's a containment breach

There's a 50% chance that he caused the breach

Whether he did it or not he would look for you

As he's looking for you he would snap some necks

Even gave 682 a heart attack

More than once actually but we don't talk about that here (cuz that hurts 682's heart)

Could care less about every other SCPs/workers

If you were hurt peanut would hunt down whoever did it to you

Probably would stroll down the facility instead of teleporting

To which you giggled

The look on the researchers' faces when they saw 173 frolic across the hallway and back into his cell was priceless

You were even there to witness it and everyone looked at you like they've just seen a ghost

Yandere!173

Would lock you up in his cell

Probably would tie you up as well

Definitely would torment you by teleporting in front and away from you

Sometimes would blindfold you

Not even the researchers could get you out

They've even asked 131 for some help and it didn't work as effectively as they thought for whatever reason

If you somehow managed to escape your freedom wouldn't last long

173 would manipulate you to the point that you felt that there weren't any way out for you

So in the end, you just stayed in his cell (probably regretting life choices while you're at it)

At least he's nice enough to let you eat proper food served in the foundation (had to make that clear in case y'all didn't get the hint and thought he gave you smth else to eat)

His younger sister

You're both alike and very close indeed

The foundation was shocked at how alike you both were

And you both were inseparable

So every time there's a breach and they see either of you, they know the other is just around the corner

You both would be sassy, sarcastic and funny

The foundation would be entertained by your remarks

Although you may or may not snap necks like peanut, you do display some form of curiosity towards the foundation staff and the SCPs

Like that one time when there was a containment breach and you leaned in rather close to this rookie and he just screamed as he laid on the floor

He did get quite a lecture afterwards but you decided to just tease him whenever you both meet

When his kid says their name for the first time

Would be joyful af

Nobody would hear the end of it

Like imagine the last words you hear is 173 telling you how his kid spoke their name

Like it took them so long to just get the pronunciation right

Tries to get them to swear late on though

Much to your dismay

173 is a cool and laid back type of dad so you wouldn't have to worry too much when you're away

Unless it's about being a good influence then you should (Not that it matters anyway...)

Probably would teleport to whoever/whatever just tp tell them about it

Even bothered 682 to the point that the lizard begged the foundation researchers to remove either of them

When his S/O is angry

Would run/teleport 10000000000000000000 miles away

Especially if you're mad at him

Probably because he broke your favourite cup and didn't tell you about it because he know that your best friend gave it to you as a gift (Don't say y'all don't have friends)

Would try to calm you down after a while though

Which didn't work too well because you still wanted to rip his head off

If it was somebody else who made you mad he would probably be entertained

Unless it affects himself of course

Probably would try to hold you back and get you to calm down

In which you wanted to rip off his head as well which ended so well for peanut

If 173 cant run anywhere he would just hide in the corner and cry

Probably would as the researchers for some help as well

They don't because they don't want to die either

When someone tries to steal you away

When peanut finds out he would hunt down whoever tried to steal you without hesitation

Would snap his neck and everyone else who were involved or knows about it

Takes you back to his cell

Checks if you were hurt even though you were looking at the kidnapper's @ss

Would try to stay by your side at all times even though he knows he can't

Stares at the researchers every time they talk to you

If it was a D-class they would die in an instant

Has a burning hatred for certain kinds of people

When his Pregnant!S/O gets hurt by accident

Cries without a doubt

Would bandage you up without a doubt

Would cheer you up by doing weird dances and impressions

Most likely would tell you off as well but your puppy eyes get to him

So he would just take that back and just baby you

Would kneel down to talk to the unborn child about your bad behaviour

You swore you felt it kick

173 would get all excited and more protective than usual

Wouldn't let anyone near you unless you were going into labourr

Meeting a Fem!Dragon!Hybrid!Reader

Would be quite curious about you

Finds you rather cute because you're so pure, kind and small

Wants to adopt you without a doubt

The researchers would have mixed feelings about you being in the same cell as 173

Peanut was lowkey terrified when you breathed fire

Was somewhat ok with you crying lava and levitating objects for a bit

Somehow managed to get 343 and/or Scarlet King to help you improve your telekinesis

Definitely would play hide and seek with you and some others

They don't get a say otherwise peanut would snap their necks

When he accidentally kills you

It was when some guy unintentionally pushed you which angered 173

Like he teleported to him and his friends

You tried to explain but 173 didn't listen so he proceeds to snap everyone's necks

Trying your best to defend the poor guy, you stepped in front of them which lead to 173 snapping your neck as well

The guy was shocked but managed to run before anything happened

Word got around that 173 had snapped your neck and was now permanently depressed

Like, he stopped snapping everyone's neck for quite sometime

Felt so guilty that he went to 049 to see if he can fix you

But he wasn't able to so he went to SK and God

They were transported to another facility so they weren't able to do much for this statue

Yandere!173 x Evil!Reader

Not as dense as some of the other SCPs but 173 wouldn't have guessed that you worked for another GOI other than the foundation

Since you used your knowledge of 173 to your advantage, 173 would find out rather late

173 found out who you were working with since the late arrival of the Black Queen came by to collect you

173 would try and kidnap you back into his cell at the Foundation but failed miserably

Would try and warn the foundation but they couldn't get you back either

Since you were with the Black Queen, 173 was plotting to get you back without any distraction

The foundation realised how dangerous 173 has become and isolated him far from the other SCPs

At times, the foundation would use your name in order to get 173 to work with them which worked 50% of the times

Trying McDonald's Sprite

Would be confused about this 'Sprite' from McDonald's since he doesn't eat or drink anyways

173 would be rather curious about this beverage and does give it a try

Finds it tasty and you soon realise he has officially become a sweet tooth

Was probably a mistake but if you ever needed to bribe 173, get him some Sprite that's specifically from McDonald's

Like that one time you bought him Sprite from Tesco's, he said it tasted more disgusting and refused to finish the drink

You should probably give him some apple pies, pancakes and some other sweet stuff from McDonald's

Sometimes the foundation would even give him some Sprite whenever the cleaners are cleaning his cell

Would find it amusing that the only way to get him to stop snapping necks are Sprite

When his kids swear

Would 100% be ok with it

173 probably is the one who taught his child to swear

Probably would let them drink alcohol at a young age as well

Maybe around their teenage years, but would let them try a sip if they're under 10

Wouldn't even be mad if his kid swears accidentally

Peanut would most likely encourage it

Doesn't mind if his kid swears at others, but the others would probably complain

When Child!Reader scares him

Wouldn't be hard to scare 173 tbh because you're so small

You'd be running around and giggling while doing whatever

Until there's some silence

173 would probably brush it off at first until he didn't hear a sound for 20 minutes

Does check around his cell to make sure you're still there

Panics because he can't see you

Until he turns around and had a full-on heart attack because you jumped on him

The researchers definitely hear a screech coming from his cell

They all started laughing once they found out

When the reader pole dances/aerial silk dances

Very similar to 035

Would be in awe of you dancing for him

If you were pole dancing he would probably watch you with those eyes~

Most likely end up in you both performing in another activity

If you were aerial silk dancing, 173 would probably be amazed

Would try and dance with you but fails terribly

Because he keeps dropping like dead flies

Most likely broke his back

Sometimes the researchers wonder how it's even possible for 173 to break his "bones"

Having a Pregnant!S/O

Would crack a lot of dad jokes here and there

Follows wherever you go

Rubs your belly whenever he can

Definitely would make a full conversation with the unborn child

Sometimes would read stories that do make you feel sleepy

Does whatever you tell him to do

Cracks some necks if he can't give you what you need

Would cry whenever you have your mood swings

During labour, you grabbed his arm so hard that it almost broke him

When you try to commit suicide

Would teleport to your side at an instant

Wouldn't let you out of his sight ever again

173 would try to cheer you up which may or may not work

Definitely would kill whoever made you feel this way if any

Make you stay in his cell for a while

Maybe even permanently

Wouldnt let anyone touch you

If you had any scars 173 would cry

Peanut would try his best to stop you from feeling that way

Having a Hopelessly Romantic/Easily flustered GN!Reader

Would definitely tease you

173 would find it adorable that you fluster easily and is hopelessly romantic

I'd say he's pretty hopelessly romantic to a certain degree

Will kill if anyone teases you

Because your adorable flushed look is only reserved for him

Although he would tell all the other SCPs about you

049 and 035 get it the hardest but 035 is completely fine with it

049 would rather just stay in his cell than to hear 173 talk about you for 200 hours

Probably knows more about you than peanut himself

173 would boop your snoot whenever you have that cute look

When you're about to be executed - Yandere!173 x D-Class!Reader

173 would snap everyone's neck and kidnap you back to his cell

If anyone ever mentions your name, 173 would instantly snap their necks

And if they ever tried to find you, he would know and would hide you somewhere else

If you ever tried to flee, 173 would teleport to your side and bribe you to stay 'home'

By bribe, I mean he would force you to return by teleporting the both of you

If anyone sees the both of you, 173 would stalk them to no end

Would torture them if they were to tell the foundation about this

Not even the other SCPs could help

When you curl up in their lap

Would find you the cutest thing on Earth

Aside from 999 of course

If he's exhausted from doing nothing, he would probably just rub your head/back

Definitely would tickle you whenever he can

Finds it comforting when you do curl up in his lap

Thinks that you're so cute to the point that he would kill for you

When you kiss his neck

10000000000000% loves it

Would definitely be vocal because he has no shame

Most likely would ask you to do it again

Even if you were in the middle of talking to someone and they hear him

If you were in the mood, you could tease him with neck kisses for hours on end

Probably would ask you to move on to the next activity but you know he loves being teased

Then after that go back to cuddling

173 would scream but the last time that happened the whole foundation went deaf and you gave him the cold shoulder for a while

Definitely cried about that so he tries to restrain himself

But you feel bad so you just carried on

129 notes · View notes

youarejesting · 3 years ago

Text

Hope in the sheets.10

[Masterlist]

Beta: N/A Pairing: Hoseok x Reader Genre: Friendship, Comedy, Soft boy, Fluff, SMUT, Friends2Lovers, Words: 5k

Summary: You held many titles: his neighbor, colleague, wing-man… well, more likely a wing-woman, yet most importantly, you were his best friend. You had been friends since you were born. Between the two of you, you were younger; barely, but he never let you forget it. He always seemed to ruffle your hair and tease you, which could get rather annoying but he made up for it by treating you to things.

What if a drunken one night stand between you and your best friend Hoseok leads to more complicated situations? Your reckless twenties are cut short as you find yourself suddenly responsible for something a little more.

Warning: Implied sex, pregnancy, implied reader has baby.

[First] [Previous] [Masterlist] [Next]

Hoseok and the others were eventually led into the birthing suite; the entire place had been cleaned and only the bare minimum of staff stayed behind. They were sorting out equipment and monitoring your current state. When his eyes landed on yours he felt emotions bloom in his chest. There you were laying in the bed, a small bundle of soft blankets nestled delicately in your arms. You had showered and dressed in a nightdress that had been packed in your hospital bag.

Hoseok’s lip curled. He was trying to hold his expression, giving you a forced smile before he broke out into tears. Holding your free arm out to him, he stumbled into your embrace kissing your forehead and telling you how much he loved you.

His words were broken by the force of each sob. “Are you going to hold her, or do we have to hold you?” Yoongi playfully teased. Hoseok wiped his eyes taking a few shakey deep breaths trying to calm his emotions.

When you moved the blanket to show your daughter laying gently against your chest, he was a mess once more. “Hobi, you want to hold her?”

“I can hold her?” He hadn’t even thought that far ahead. He could hold this baby, his daughter, he could hold her in his arms and she was real.

“Of course you can hold her.” You laughed, reaching up to wipe his tears away. Hoseok remembered everything he was taught from the birthing classes, practically reciting them out loud. You placed his daughter in his arms and his bottom lip fell.

Tears were his automatic response. There was nothing else, this miracle, this symbol of his love for you, his best and longest friend. This was his child, his flesh and blood and he couldn’t thank you enough for giving him such a gift.

“You have to stop crying Hobi, we need a nice picture for your family.” You smiled and he tilted his head back sniffing.

“I love you so much, and I love her, I just can’t stop crying.” The words broke again Hoseok turned to show off his daughter to his friends. They were some of the people he was closest to and when he looked at them they were all crying. Jungkook’s wet cheeks and red nose, Jimin’s sweet puffy eyes bubbling with tears, even Yoongi let out a stray sniff.

By far it was a sight to see big burly Namjoon openly weeping like Hoseok and cooing over how precious she was.

“Look how little she is,” Namjoon whimpered

“Her hands are so tiny too,” Hoseok said back. The two were just making it worse for each other, a back and forth of doting comments of your newborn each statement causing a fresh cycle of tears.

The nurse who had been checking your vitals waiting to take you back to the ward rolled her eyes. “I have seen some sappy fathers but you brought a whole troop.”

“Gentleman it’s time to let mum and her baby get some sleep, the father can come back tomorrow morning any other guests can come two at a time during visiting hours.” She ushered the other six males from the room, Hoseok kissed you his cheeks were wet.

“I don’t want to go.”

“Get some sleep Hobi, get the house ready. If all goes well I will be out of the hospital soon.” The nurse took your daughter from Hoseok’s arms.

“Wait, can I give her a kiss?” You whispered. The nurse nodded bringing your daughter over allowing you to kiss her goodnight before she was wheeled down to the nursery.

“Are you ready to go back to the ward? You should get some sleep. Your body will be exhausted. We will bring the child in when she is hungry.”

“Okay Hobi, I have to go rest now you head home and make the house all ready for when we come home okay.” You waved goodbye to him and watched as Jimin took his hand leading him from the room. He seemed reluctant to take his eyes off of you, his hand coming to lay flat under his heart.

You touched your collar bone watching him mouth the words 'baseline'. It was like everything you ever wanted but such a weird and obscure way you got there. You wanted to be with Hoseok and cherish him and be loved in return, but you never thought you would get there by completely derailing your relationship and almost ruining your life.

It was like you had to destroy what you had to build something better. It seems counterproductive and a step in the wrong direction but somehow you were able to shape the rubble of your friendship into a relationship stronger than before.

You love Hoseok with all your heart and he only has eyes for you. It seems you were both delusional to believe that you weren’t in love. Everyone could see it except the two of you and now it was painfully obvious.

Being a mother was kind of a shock. Scared when you woke up to cramps, only to remember you had already given birth, you were also woken throughout the night to feed your daughter. A part of you worried about taking care of someone, the responsibility setting in as being a mother was a full-time job.

“You are doing wonderful.” The nurse gave you some pain killers for your cramps, your uterus was slowly shrinking back to its regular size and you were uncomfortable. “Would you like me to get you anything?”

“I would love something to drink.” Voice hoarse from sleep, she nodded before setting off for you. You sat up watching the sunrise, your daughter sleeping soundly on the bed in front of you. She was so precious. Even with closed eyes she still wiggled and stretched her hands out to the warm glowing orb.

“Seonhee, do you like that name?” You whispered, taking out a small outfit: a white onesie with sunflowers and bright yellow footed pants with soft yellow ruffles on the butt. “Jung Seonhee.”

“Ah, is that her name?” The nurse smiled, placing some apple juice and water on the small bedside table. She sanitized her hands and began helping you with the baby's clothes and diaper, bagging the old clothes and disposing of the soiled diaper. She smiled down at the little girl in her bright outfit. “I think it suits her, Seonhee”

The doctor came by on her round, her hair pulled into a tight bun and her scrubs pastel blue with stalks. “You are looking better, how are you feeling?” There was no messing around, she was straight to business, checking for any concerns or pain. Your stomach was being palpated while she brought up things to look out for. “Ultimately if anything happens that you are unsure about, even if it is something silly like, should I have coffee while breastfeeding, call this number here, they are a great service and they will help you.”

“Thank you so much.” Taking the card you were handed and a little care package from the hospital, the nurse placed the card into the baby book which had accompanied you throughout pregnancy and after. “Am I okay to go home today?”

“You are all clear. Let us know what time you want to leave and we can have all the paperwork ready.” Pausing in the doorway, a young nurse almost bumping into her, she spun around, her coat swishing with her. “After giving birth a lot of women become a little moody, fatigued, or cry. This is totally normal as your hormones will be dropping back to a normal level. It is perfectly normal to feel these things during this time.”

“Ah, that’s good to know.” You replied while searching through the care package, glancing at some of the booklets and information sheets. There was a number for a community service where mothers take their babies to be weighed and receive checkups. The nurses had few information sessions on feeding techniques and developmental leaps.

Looking forward to being a part of a group of new mothers, you knew you would have a lot of questions eventually. It would be nice to know if other mothers have similar concerns or effective tips for any future problems.

Hoseok arrived with a big smile, kissing you sweetly before heading over to scoop up his daughter. “Wait Hobi,” you stopped him, “I need to talk to you before you get all teary-eyed again.”

“Okay,” serious expression on his face he gave you all his attention.

“We need to agree on her name and sign the birth certificate.” The smile returned to his face, the twinkle in his eyes never dwindling since the moment he stepped into the room. “I like the name 선희 (Seonhee) written as 善 meaning Good or nice and 希 as in Hope”

Hoseok watched you write an example on a scrap piece of paper, and began nodding enthusiastically. Hands shaking the two of you eyed one another passing secret smiles, the taste of giggles on the tip of your tongue. Once the document was completed Hoseok’s hand swooped up into your hair, cradling your nape as he kissed you.

Neither lazy nor heated, the kiss was full and romantic, his lips telling a story against yours. The world stopped and only Hoseok existed. Until a shrill cry broke through the silence and the two of you apart. The cry brought with it the sound of machines and nurses walking down the hall.

“You want to go home,” Hoseok raced around the hospital bed towards your daughter, wiggling in the tiny hospital portable bassinet. His style was honestly amusing. Strips of fabric hanging from a graffitied shirt with a cargo jacket and sneakers. Strange to see him holding a baby but you loved it so much.

Just because you were parents didn’t mean you had to get rid of everything you love. Sure you had to grow up and it was extreme. The transition you made while pregnant felt like your life was ending. That you would live to serve a tiny being. But seeing Hoseok still smiling the same, still wearing the same street hip hop style reassured you that you still had a life outside of being a mother and that would never change.

Of course, the two of you probably wouldn’t club anymore. It would be unfair if either of you went out without the other and unfair on your daughter if you were not there for her. Not to mention the cost of babysitting and the trust you would need in order to leave Seonhee with someone who wasn’t you or Hoseok.

Hoseok helped you with your bags packing the car, he had borrowed Jin’s for a smoother drive. Always thoughtful even on the littlest details. Sitting by the baby's car seat while Hoseok drove you home apologizing for every speed bump and every turn.

“Hoseok, I would like to go home before it is dark. You don’t have to drive that slow.” You laughed, he was being so serious like a knight or warrior preparing for battle to protect those he loves. In the reflection of the rearview mirror, you saw his lips twitch in amusement, the sun shining on his shaggy hair. “I love you.”

“Babe,” He whined, “you can’t say that when I am driving, I want to kiss you and then we really won’t get home before dark.”

His eyes flickered up to meet yours in the mirror before concentrating diligently once more on the road. He was singing softly to the radio as he crossed town, you must have fallen asleep as you were woken by his sweet laugh and some kisses on your cheek.

“We are home Lil darling.”

Breathing deeply trying to clear your head from your nap, as the fog in your mind disappeared your hands were secured in Hoseok’s as he helped you out of the car. Standing patiently for your body to catch up, the tender sensations in your stomach leaving you stiff.

“Seonhee, time to see your new home.” Hoseok scooped up the infant holding her to his chest as if it was the most natural thing like he had several years of experience. As opposed to this child being his firstborn. He took the soft yellow muslin wrap and covered her protecting her eyes from the afternoon sun.

Opening the door, you weren’t surprised, (mostly because you had spotted their cars on the curb) to see the boys sitting on your couch equally as excited to see you as they had been the day before in the birthing suite. Hoseok was placing your bag on the table when Seonhee started crying.

“Hey, sweetheart what’s wrong?” Hoseok patted her bottom to a steady rhythm hoping it would lull her back to sleep. Her crying continued and you felt your shirt grow damp, taking a seat you held out your hands for your daughter and nursed her while the boys kept their eyes firm on one another to respect your privacy.

“Are you drinking or are you sleeping?” You giggled at your daughter who was milk drunk. Burping her gently she wiggled releasing a few loud burps and spitting up a little onto the back of your hand and the small burp cloth you had been holding to her clothes.

“Let me take her while you clean up.” Yoongi smiled, scooping up your daughter, holding her so her head was supported, her arms and legs draped over either side of his arm. His other hand rubbed and patted her back gently as he swayed.

“You look like a squashed pie.” He smiled cheekily talking to the baby in his arms. “Cute bow shape lip from your mum, and your nose is very cute like Hoseok’s.”

“How dare you call her a squashed pie.” Namjoon tried to defend but when Yoongi turned he showed the infant, her cheek squished up against his arm, her drool slowly seeping between parted lips. “Okay, maybe a little but she is also adorable.”

“All babies look like aliens when they are born,” you grinned.

“But do you love her, more than anything else in the world?” Jungkook giggled trying to make small talk while also projecting his newfound love for such a tiny being.

“We just met, I need some time to get to know her some more.” You joke playfully curled up on the couch Seokjin handing you some dinner and a cup of tea while the boys took turns meeting your daughter.

“It says in the paperwork she can have a bath tomorrow, and that her first poo might be really yucky.” Hoseok read the take-home leaflets from the hospital and constantly checked on his two girls making sure they were both safe and sound.

“Put her in outfits you don’t care if they get destroyed,” Yoongi was singing something to the child. It was low and rough. He was talking about dreams, freestyling about how your daughter didn’t need to go to university and that she didn’t have to know everything right at this moment.

Placing the little girl into Jimin’s waiting arms. His eyes sparkled and his lip dropped as he turned soft for the little girl.

“Hello, I am Uncle Jimin and I am going to spoil you so much.” His sweet voice gasped. He practically wiggled on the spot when she brought her fists up to her closed eyes and yawned. Taehyung was quietly snapping photos, careful not to use the flash as he didn’t want to hurt the baby's sensitive eyes, even while they were closed. He assured you, that he would get photos of everyone holding Seonhee. He had already captured Yoongi and was taking a few extra of Jimin with the small bundle.

It was honestly nice to see them all so supportive and there for your daughter. Images in your mind blooming of her first Christmas and birthday and all that would follow. Namjoon would buy her a green bike with flowers and tassels on the handles and Yoongi, helping assemble it before she woke up, attaching the training wheels for her safety.

Learning how to wrap people around her finger from her Uncle Jimin and then using it against them. She would be a dancer like her father and would light up the room. You could see her performing on a stage with the eight of you waiting with flowers to throw on stage. Maybe she wouldn’t win the first prize at her first show but they would still take her out for pizza and celebrate. Her skills would improve and the day she wins the trophy she would be lifted onto Seokjin’s shoulders.

Not noticing you had started crying until Namjoon pulled you into a hug. “Hey what’s got you so upset.”

“No, I am not upset, I was told that as my hormones go back to normal, I might cry and be more tired and moody and upset and I just,” Sniffing Jungkook handed over some tissues and hugging your back. The newer of the group Taehyung and Jungkook had just fit perfectly into the group, it was like they were always meant to be.

“Hey love,” Hoseok said, coming over to kneel at your feet holding your knees softly. "Tell me what made you so upset."

“I was thinking about her first Christmas and her first birthday and how you would all be here and she would be loved and…” Taking a sniff and pushing the tears from your eyes you looked up at them seriously. “You can never leave now, we are going to be one big family. I hope you know you are now each my daughter's uncles and therefore responsible to attend events. If you didn’t want to be a part of the family, I am sorry you are now my family.”

More tears shook your form. “You're the only family I have, I wasn’t exactly disowned more than I left when my mother told me not to have my sweet daughter. My precious baby deserves a big happy family and so I am sorry you are stuck with me.

“And don’t even think you are getting out of it.” You pointed at Taehyung and Jungkook, “You are my family now. Seonhee needs lots of uncles to protect her.”

“We aren’t leaving,” Seokjin grinned, taking a turn holding the wiggling bundle, smiling for a picture, and looking at her. “She will be a heartbreaker.”

The first couple of weeks were a learning curve filled with broken sleep, reheated meals courtesy of Seokjin, and constant fatigue looming over your head. Jimin appeared one-afternoon Taehyung, Namjoon and Yoongi apprehended your daughter. Settling her into a baby carrier strapped to Namjoon’s chest. The thick bodyguard looked a little silly with a tiny child nestled against his pecs.

Seonhee was wearing a new outfit from her uncle Jimin. It was a sweet-footed onesie with bear ears warm enough for a day out in the park. Kicked out of the house by Jimin who stressed how much you needed a break. Hoseok was at work while you were still on leave which meant you took the larger portion of the home and baby duties.

Mostly because you were at home all day, but also not wanting to interfere with his sleep schedule seeing as he was going to an actual job that needed proper attention. There wasn’t even a moment of hesitation from Jimin as he dragged you into the bathroom and started the bath filling it with a generous amount of bubble bath. It was the sleepy-time product you had chosen for your baby, emitting a soft lavender scent.

“You relax and I will wash your hair.” He smiled and he massaged your scalp to help relieve any tension, after washing out all your hair products he took your skincare products letting you lay in the bubbles as he pampered you. “You are such a good mum, you are doing amazing.”

“I hope so,” you yawned.

You stepped out of the tub, quickly wrapping yourself into the fluffy robe you hadn’t used in a while. Then sat down on your bed whilst Jimin dried and styled your hair. The others had returned, poking their heads into the room and smiling at your new refreshed look. You quickly fed your daughter while Jimin braided your hair securely.

“You rest okay, we will watch her until Hoseok comes home. Don’t worry we will come to you if we are unsure about anything and for food times.” Yoongi said playing some soft tranquil music on the small speaker by your bed.

It seemed pointless. Laying there believing it impossible to fall asleep. As you walked past the clock reading half-past one, your stomach rumbled in a gentle protest. Before you could even think of the food you wanted to get dressed, pulling on a white crop top and a baggy overall dress. Something easy to breastfeed in. It was definitely time as your breasts were heavier with milk.

Walking out you poured yourself a glass of juice and scooped up your fussing daughter, stomach growling again. Yoongi stood up marching into the kitchen, rapidly chopping ingredients. Soon the house was filled with a savory aroma and the glorious sound of oil sizzling.

Hoseok was having his first afternoon with Seonhee. You were going for a checkup. Jungkook was free and agreed to accompany you to your appointment, he almost paled when he saw the equipment on the table for your checkup. It made for a good laugh and endless teasing during your small coffee date afterward.

Jungkook’s phone buzzed and he grinned texting back quickly. “Ooh, what or who is making you smile so big?”

“Uh, I just got a funny text from Namjoon. Apparently, Hoseok asked for company so Namjoon and Yoongi stopped by the house after their errands.” He laughed, nose scrunching showing off his front teeth. “And well, your daughter may have accidentally had a poo explosion. So far from the pictures I have seen, Yoongi and Hoseok are covered in it. And while trying to help Namjoon dropped a whole bottle of baby powder and they are vacuuming the carpet.”

“Jimin and Taehyung agreed to pick up some more and I have been asked to keep you busy,” Your smile growing the more you heard, of course, they would make a mess on your first day out. Expecting something chaotic to happen but never something as funny as this.

“I am just glad it is something like this and not that someone is sick or hurt,” You smiled while eating a strawberry cheesecake and sipping coffee. Not making any move of leaving early and relieving them of their duty. It was a right of passage and showed just how much you trusted them. Hearing that something happened and not jumping to take over.

“They said not to tell you, but how could I not?” Jungkook turned his phone showing you some photos worthy of scrapbooking, the kind you would take out for Seonhee’s twenty-first and a story she would get sick of hearing at every family gathering. “Look at them.”

“Well while they are busy, how about we go grocery shopping? I think perhaps we can make something delicious for dinner,” Standing and collecting your jacket from your chair, and leading the way. Jungkook followed listening to your concerns about your weight and figure, he assured you how good you were looking and even offered to personally train you at 21, the gym.

Seonhee was growing steadily. Each milestone leading into the next, she would roll over and had started to crawl. Finding herself putting things she shouldn’t in her mouth. Going back to work was hard for the first few days, leaving Seonhee at the daycare was easy but she became more clingy when she came home. It was her way of coping with the separation that came with daycare and full-time work but eventually, Seonhee got into a routine.

Understanding that her parents were always coming back made everything in the house run a lot smoother. She had a small handful of sounds, mostly eomma, appa.

Work was a lot more tolerable and dare you to say fun. Jimin had quit his sugar baby gig and joined the company working alongside you. Sure he had broken a few hearts by canceling his service but he was happier. He never explicitly said it but you believed he was trying to be more independent and above everything else make himself more approachable to Taehyung.

Taehyung however left for a while, he had been away working with a few celebrities and luxury brands, photographing concepts, photos, and more. He had been pushing and working harder and harder as the days passed until he traveled away for his latest project.

It was a little sad that they weren’t together but you could see the longing in Jimin’s eyes whenever he replayed Taehyung’s Instagram story. Dragging him from his desk to have lunch together and distract him from the thoughts spinning around in his head.

December marked eleven months since Seonhee was born. Cruising against the couch and cabinets opening things she shouldn’t. You had invested in baby locks and a small playpen. Neither really did much as she knew how to push the whole contraption across carpet and tiles to get into things.

Mostly she would follow you to the kitchen hoping to get teething biscuits or any other treats her father would sneak her. He was never able to say no and you often found them sneaking snacks together where he would give you his big eyes and pouty lips claiming that she deserved a snack.

Christmas had your house filled to the brim with presents and boys, Seokjin was cooking in the kitchen with Yoongi’s help while Jimin and Jungkook were playing with Seonhee. Hoseok was helping Namjoon into a Santa costume in the backyard. No one had heard from Taehyung. You assumed he was busy with work and that he would be unable to make it.

There was a knock and Jungkook raced to answer it and laughed, “Finally, I thought you were skipping out on the family Christmas.”

“I wouldn’t skip out on the family Christmas, you are my favorite family,” Taehyung said handing over a suitcase to Jungkook and carrying in some bags of wrapped gifts, placing them under the tree. “Look at you, you have gotten so big!”

Namjoon Santa came in and delivered gifts and ran off getting changed only to come back and watch the gift unwrapping. Jungkook went to collect the two eldest from the kitchen, pushing Seokjin before dragging Yoongi out the two stopping in the archway.

“Hey, you are under the mistletoe!” Jimin giggled, proud that his trap had worked, he was hoping that some people would get stuck under it. “You are going to have to kiss.”

“We don’t have to, we are watching Seonhee open her gifts,” Jungkook said only to be grabbed by Yoongi who kissed the younger male and pulled away.

“Satisfied.” Yoongi turned back to the young girl opening her presents, Namjoon got her some picture books and a few educational toys. Seokjin had wrapped a small toy kitchen that was her size. Yoongi brought her to everyone’s surprise a little clam pool and some plastic toys to play with.

Jimin brought her a whole lot of princess dresses, tiaras, and fairy wings. Jungkook got her a cozy coupe red and yellow plastic car that she could push around with her legs. Taehyung handed her the small gift bag and inside was a night light that made the roof look like a galaxy and played soft music.

After Seonhee’s gifts from the boys, Hoseok brought out a box. He was struggling with it but when he opened it out popped a little dog who began licking her cheeks and wagging his tail intensely amongst the large group. “His name is Mickey.” Hoseok grinned watching Taehyung taking pictures and smiling fondly as she giggled.

Other gifts were exchanged, the most notable was Seokjin giving everyone matching sweaters with his face on it, and Taehyung’s gift to Jimin. It was a small bag and inside was the signature Tiffany blue colored box.

“You didn’t have to,” Jimin said softly and Taehyung smiled.

“I told myself I would support you, and I know you didn’t want to be treated like a sugar baby, I just told myself that I wouldn’t allow myself to date until I got you those earrings you really wanted. I wanted to give you something you could be proud of.” Taehyung explained, “And it was so hard to resist you when you kept inviting me over.”

Opening the box Jimin saw the earrings he had once mentioned ages back, the exact earrings Taehyung had handmade for him. “Now you can get rid of the ones I made you, they look horrible compared to these.

“I still love the ones you made and I will keep them forever.”

“I won’t treat you like a sugar baby anymore, I wanted to ask if maybe you wanted to go on a date.”

“Well, these earrings will get you about five dates.” Jimin giggled cheekily

“Five I thought for sure it would be five and a half?”

“Five and a free butt grab?”

“Deal!”

The nine of you were walking through the kid's attractions at the theme park seeing some familiar faces, you were having lunch when some music started playing. It was the theme park's dance parade and Hoseok was dragged into the dance by Taeyong.

You were giggling when WinWin dragged you up dancing with you and turned to see Hoseok on one knee, a ring box opened in his hands. You felt your chest about to explode as you tackled him to the ground sobbing in his chest. “Hoseok really, you mean it?”

“Of course, I mean it, I have loved you for years.”

“I love you so much, hell freaking yes put that ring on me, quick quick.” You kissed his face nonstop giggling between your tears. He was finally able to get the ring onto the designated finger standing and pulling you onto your feet. He kissed you passionately, you pulled back burying your face in his chest squealing.

[First] [Previous] [Masterlist] [Next]

Tags: @brbkpop @take-u-2-an0ther-w0r1d @munchyn @unadulteratedlyunique @jinhitwhore @knjkitten @jooniesdimples70307 @the-snowbear25 @yoobikook @moments-of-melancholy @bratzkoo @theadorkablezaza @crustycaitlin @verasays @usagiserenity530 @carmxx @alexalbby @seolaquotes @sunshinejunghoseokie @extraordinary_reads @ireallylikeyourwriting @littletinyhobi @myspi2010 @safi4x @joohyunzie @bangtanited @greezenini @thatbasicduck @unicornbabylover

(Please remember to have your tag settings on so you can recieve notifications about updates)

How can I save this to receive and read updates?

‘Follow’ and turn on ‘Notifications’ so you never miss an update

Add your name to a ‘Tag’ list [HERE]

‘Reblog’ this post with the hashtag #J-HITS (J-Hope in the sheets)

Or you can ‘Like’ this post (but good luck trying to find it a week later, we both know how many things you like a day, perhaps we will meet again in the future.)

95 notes · View notes

6blackfilin9 · 3 years ago

Note

I love your Anko fanart! Tell me, what are your views/headcannons on Anko X Kazuku?

hThank you so much for the ask, finally I can answer it

here is my big thank you for the waitng

In a nutshell, the shipp was created by accident while me and my buddy were working on our first Naruto AU in 2019, where Kakuzu and Deidara survived their shitty plotholes end eventually ended up in Konoha

Yeah

so, the shipp’s birth date is july the 1, 2019

anything like classy, aristocracy kind of tension-filled passionate gothic romance with playful, psychological games & hurt/comfort vibes with slight scent of rivalry is KakuAnko

Basically, they are: a very, very old man with absolutely horrendous background who’s trying to finally have his mother*cking 10 or 30 years of peace, and a rather young lady with a rocky youth who’s being good & noble yet has very strong antihero tendencies

You know, I think they do have potential, since, in fact, they seem to be very similar, at the core

They are both very pragmatic realists, the people of logic and reason, yet if Kakuzu’s irritability doesn’t affect him a tiny bit due to his ideal self-control, Anko’s can lead her to quite bad places, sometimes. They put their interests in the first place, and even though she tries to attach them to Konoha’s, she still has ‘personal’ things (I’ll write ‘bout it lower*). Their mindsets are so complicatedly organized that, at some point & way, it prevents them from having many close people, and makes them very hard to see through and predict

Both of them are very flexible & adaptive, independent individuals with similar outlooks on plenty of things and high intellectual level. They clearly can find plenty of traits that they would highly respect and adore in each other

Here I will speak mostly for “why and how” kind of things, bc both of them are terribly tricky to accurately figure out. But there will be some headcanons too

So, there are still some odds about them, due to the strong difference in their occupation, like, in plenty of cases they are really tricky to be brought together, because:

- Of the job

In original, Anko is a Konoha’s special jounin, and she is very dedicated to serving the country. Independently of whether she likes her job or not (depends on the plot), she orienteers at the people, at society’s gain from her work. So, accordingly, in any other AU her job is somehow connected to civil service, whether it’s something police-like, connected to science, or something like CCG in Tokyo Ghoul

Kakuzu, on the other hand, is a hitman and a persona non grata in literally all the five big countries, Konoha too (which makes it barely possible to bring them together in the original universe without hard complications or heavy drama. But still possible). He orienteers on his own gain alone, but, depending on the job, it can include others’ gain, too.

This detail makes him a saint once he holds supervising position in some company or any high position in the government (the better the working conditions of the staff now- the more money in the prospective), and the sheer nightmare once he has it on the opposite side of the law. Him as a mob boss is a complete different topic for discussion, but to get the point, in this case, the trouble isn’t him increasing the level of criminality (its rather vice-versa), but taking hold of too much control in the high and underground structures. Even as an ordinary hitman he’s rather tricky, since everything depends on the case

In most of the stories, they come to some sort of compromise, and how hard it is to reach it depends on how shitty his job is and how attached they are to each other at the moment

Like, in the above mentioned Shippuden AU and Harry Potter AU (which I also wrote with my buddy) everything went like clockwork, because there they are both more or less on this side of the law, in Tokyo Ghoul AU (which I also wrote with my buddy) it is a bit more complicated, with her being in-law and him being very much outlaw, in the Avatar AU (which I also figured out with my buddy, but we never happened to write it) it is also pretty smooth, with both of them being outlaws and then jumping out to the glory after all the shit is done, but in another Shippuden AU of mine, this all would be just a motherfucking bloody disaster

- Kakuzu is actually a hard nut to get attached to anyone

He lived too long to be truly afraid of anything, though. Its mostly because he doesn’t really need to get attached to or become close with someone to satisfy his need for communication. The man can get along with anyone once he wishes to, he can have countless acquaintances and plenty of buddies, but he doesn’t have many comrades and barely can call anyone a friend. Because he is used to lose everything and everyone he ever had or happened to have, because of his inhumanly lengthened lifespan.

It requires time for him to get used to the person, and then, eventually, in some cases, spend plenty of it to get attached

Plus, for him, due to his profession, each close connection is a really great responsibility for him. In most cases, he’d think twice of weather he is ready to take it or not

Though it of course has the personal factor, too

In Anko’s case, she has a grand privilege by being a very intelligent and keen woman, not just in cognitive plane, but in emotional, too. High emotional intellect is actually a rare trait, so she automatically stands out of the crowd for him. Even though it won’t guarantee his alliance, it will grant her his high respect and some sort of sympathy

- Kakuzu is, technically, an asshole

He does have his moral compass, which includes a great amount of common social morality, but he also has that “I am working” state

Even though Kakusu has a set of professional principles, and he still acts accordingly to what he thinks is right, one and the very same situation can be solved diametrically different once the context changes from working to casual and vice versa

This, and him being very independent and quite antisocial, makes the degree of assholeness depend on various factors

This can lead to major conflicts of interests, and if they are possible to have any compromise or not is strongly attached to the circumstances. After all, both are very, very prideful and dignified people

- In other words, the only major issue for them would be morality questions. It’s possible to make the case acceptable for Anko, since both of them ain’t truly squeaky clean, along with Kakuzu being willing enough to watch his borders

- She is provident and doesn’t really need a lot of money on a daily basis, which is much of a joy to him lol

- *they both seek for the stable ground, first of all

Taking in consideration the life conditions Kakuzu had in his youth (despite war state, he still stably had family, friends, grand respect from everyone, home, warmth and food) and how terribly he was torn out of his secured social environment, I believe what he seeks through all his bounty hunt and other money-connected manipulations is stability. Sustainability he had back then. The only way to have it in the conditions of our existent world order is to have money (and a very good mind and luck)

Anko has indeed much more altruistic motives, yet it’s still not that simple. It seems to be, on the first sight, yet considering the “Orochimaru related cases” and her very wayward behavior toward them, it’s clear she keeps her own motives and needs in mind oh so well. The service she has is very well payed, it allows her to do what she likes or believes is right, and to have the living conditions she finds comfortable. And only here, relying on the made sustainable basis, she does what she does

- Thus, they both illustrate the principle “first help yourself, next help the other” just right

- She knows she can keep an eye on him, yet it’s clear for her that her influence isn’t borderless, as well as telling him off some stuff is kind of a not wise thing to do. So in the majority of cases, she never interferes

- This is not common, yet he can actually change some plans if the situation is serious and the compromise can’t be found. He is that kind of person who works on a further prospective, and in this context, this would be the relationship with his loved one

- While Kakuzu is quite conflicted and has very reserved controversial persona, Anko is both controversial, conflicted, and sort of two-faced, on top of that

She is a very sincere, cheerful and humbly honest human being, yet she has some darker natural traits of her character that became rather strong with age and traumatic experience. Cunningness, guile, ways-depend-on-the-case and a bit of ruthlessness, that is. Moreover, she has some unsolved personal issues, which makes her even more twisted.

Like, remember the time when she confronted Orochimaru during the exam? And Kabuto, on the war? Getting rid of them is indeed beneficial for Konoha, but it’s clear that for her it is personal vendetta in the first place. She wouldn’t have tried to do this alone, otherwise, because these two are rather dangerous ones, to say the least.

She uses greater good to cover her real motives (even though it is not truly complete bullshit), and seems to have a terrible habit to keep silence about really important things, which makes her quite prone to lying, in some cases

And sometimes it very badly pisses Kakuzu off, since it makes her prone to doing useless but dangerous shit too

Yet this not any kind of separate hidden side, it is integrated into her personality, and coexists with her bright one. That’s where her violent humour comes from, for example.

But Kakuzu, on the other side, is completely monolith individual, yet sometimes his mindset can create contradictions when it comes to something important to him. but it's another topic

And seeing these layered constructions, and motives, they can pretty finely predict each other’s behavior. Not super-neatly, but they for sure see the basis. This is what helps Kakuzu to prevent Anko from doing some stupid shit, sometimes

- Anko has a role of an indicator for the people who don’t understand and see the changes in Kakuzu’s mood sometimes, since she usually reacts quite openly. Yet, when she has the same unreadable mask of cold, or one of guile, it’s a nightmare for them

- They prefer the non-verbal way to show their feelings, even though Anko is obviously the more chatty one

- They don’t say things such as “I love you”, or other sensual stuff like that really often, believing it to be some sort of cherished words that shall not be spelled mindlessly

- Anko isn’t majorly into PDA, but she fancies it much more than Kakuzu does. She has her whole moments of studying something with her hands, whether it’s a hand, scar or face. He’s more into passive display of affection, like wrapping an arm over her waist or leaning to her or something of this kind; they can allow themselves to (not sexually) kiss in public though

- She knows he doesn’t like to walk hand in hand due to considering it a youthful thing, so there are times when she intentionally walks holding on to his sleeve; generally they walk separately in order not to bother each other, but sometimes they walk arm in arm (like an old Victorian couple lol)

- Being older and wiser, Kakuzu eventually upholds some kind of mentoring position, yet he never considers himself any kind of a teacher or master to Anko, believing her to have a good head of her own. He is just insightful enough to break something through to her or give a word of advise

- This, combined with his highly powerful demeanor, also makes him have the leading position in their relationship

- Anko respects him much enough to fortify this, entrusting with plenty of life questions (like organizing the family budget), even though they make the majority of decisions together. Mostly because he is truly wise and highly experienced individual.

- This makes him one of the very few people Anko would actually listen to and take their opinion in consideration

- So basically they have equal relationship with some tendency to patriarchal order

- And it is, really, mostly economically-based disbalance, with him earning much more than she does

- Yet they never have any financial-based issues, since both of them keep in mind and respect the contributions of each

- There is major power play here, too. He has the absolute might, she has seduction. Anko loves how he makes her want to submit to him, let him have all the power, so she likes provoking him. And she knows he adores it, loves the subtle control she has over him

- They don’t have conflicts in their everyday life. Each knows how to avoid pissing one another off

- He cherishes her playful demeanor, her intellect. Combined with her cunningness, it allows her to rival him, in social sphere. The way she constructs her phrases, the way she speaks, mimics, moves, how bewitchingly it suits her feminine snaky features makes his blood boil and heart melt

- Both of them, actually, have rather specific kind of dry, dark humour. Kakuzu’s is very cynical, satirical, quite often menacing and subtly demeaning; Anko’s is very sarcastic and quite dirty, even gruesome and rather violent

- Sometimes they “fight” verbally as a form of a play. In some circumstances they may sound pretty vile, so some unobservant people mistake this for display of hate

- In general, Anko is the one to heat things up with her playful demeanor, which can include provocation and rivalry, and Kakuzu is the one to keep this energy in borders, accumulating it up to much more intense states

- They both put the comfort in the first place when it comes to household. Everything must be cozy, useful, silent and super clean

- Yet they are both very unpretentious and modest, really

- She absolutely adores when he is showing his serious, severe side, or powerful demeanor. She finds it incredibly suitable for him. She also likes how his real age is sliding out in this or that way. Like, even though he has rather young face (that of 37-40 y.o.), his eyes give away that he’ve seen oh so much more than it seems; the grumpy noises and grunts he makes, the lazy attitude in movements and the way how rapidly he finds a comfy pose once he has a chance to take a seat

- They are both rather patriotic, yet while in the most stories Anko’s feelings mostly lay towards the country she lives in, Kakuzu’s more often lay towards some places, so called small motherland.

- Kakuzu actually could be a source of deep, strong admiration and delight for her, despite all of his bullshit. The unbreakable will he has, mighty burning heart, all the wisdom, talents and mind. Being sent to fight god damn Hashirama, clearly a genius of his times, financial & management genius at the least. And, still, after all the hard times he’ve been through, he maintained the very strong sense of dignity and nobility, even though slightly twisted due to the profession and abnormal lifespan

- And the very same things can serve as the source for her chagrin: with all those traits, he could have been so much more rather than a criminal. With all the gifts he’ve got, he could have been of great use to society. He’s much easier about this, since his prospective is much wider and embraces decades (and in some universes even centuries) instead of months & years, and he knows that he’d be switching sides throughout his life, being on this and that side of the law, yet he still is a bit uncomfortable once it’s brought up

- They are deeply into science, which makes them atheists. He’s into medicine and human biology, she’s into chemistry and reptilian biology; both of them are nuts for physics, history and psychology

- They solve complicated physical and mathematical problems together time to time. She is the first one to have tea-breaks due to losing her temper over it, he tries to figure things out right until you can sense the smoke coming off his head

- Actually, they do have a stumbling stone aside from job & morality complications. And this is Anko’s attitude towards Orochimaru

What she does is basically ruins her life very-very slowly, maintaining the issues she has and planning to make him pay for all he’s done

Kakuzu knows exactly what is really going on with this attitude and why, but he can’t really do anything about it. Like, he knows he can’t make her change her mind or put something into her head

All he can do is really nothing but try to explain how those things are working, and even this option is basically a landmine field for him. At some level she does understand that he could probably be right, yet she just refuses to go back on her mind. And this is actually really dangerous, so at some moments they can fight quite badly about it

- He’s scared shitless to lose her, though; especially like that, even though he knows clearly that he will, anyway, sooner or later

- he knows that losing loved ones ends up with sheer disaster for him, yet he isn’t afraid to pay such a high price for those six, five or four decades of being with her. Because these decades are that of a paradise ones for him. Wife and family, as well as stable job, incomes and life conditions, are some sort of physical definitions of sustainability he craves. Especially family, yet it’s far ahead to plan

- The fact that he will have to bury her one day makes her rather depressed, as well as the knowledge that the only thing she can really do about it is to try to bring him as much happiness and comfort as possible before she dies

thank you, i'd say more, but it's too much already

#my art #naruto #naruto shipuden #akatsuki #naruto akatsuki #akatsuki kakuzu #kakuzu #naruto anko #mitarashi anko #kakuanko #they are very entertaining disaster

90 notes · View notes

coeurdastronaute · 3 years ago

Text

The Cover Story, Ch. 1

Greetings! This is a preview of my first chapter that I’m posting exclusively on my patreon. If you like it, I hope you follow along as I work on it there. I appreciate your time and thoughts and would love to hear what you think.

Without further ado, or perhaps much ado about thing...

Lucy Madani was not going to cry.

That was a lie. She might cry. She wanted to cry. She was known to cry very easily, but not without reason, and there certainly were more than enough reasons already for her to tear up as she stood on the corner and felt a wave of water from a bus going through a puddle splash her legs and skirt. It was only just after eight in the morning, and she was ready to crawl back into bed, admit defeat graciously, and sleep straight through to tomorrow.

“I can’t talk right now, Baba,” Lucy muttered into her phone as she resumed her quick walk down the street.

“You are mad, and we need to talk.”

“Let me rephrase it. I don’t want to and I also can’t. I’m going to be late for my meeting.”

“Your big interview pitch. I wanted to wish you good luck, but you stormed off.”

“Yes, that is what one tends to do when their father informs them that he is getting engaged,” she fumed, her anger coming over her once again at the thought as she darted across the street, waving her hand at the honking car.

She was an adult, she tried to remind herself. A full, grown adult. An adult-adult who barely had a stable job, had heaps of student loans, and still lived with her widowed father. She didn’t throw tantrums and she wasn’t going to cry about any of it. Today was too important for that, and she was going to nail the pitch and finally move on from puff pieces for teen magazines. She was going to make the jump to serious journalist. She was going to be requested, by name.

Today she was not going to cry.

At least not on purpose.

“Will you be home for dinner?”

Luckily, he knew enough to sound sorry, though it wasn’t enough of a victory for her, only fueling the prickling behind her eyes.

“No, I’m going over Laila’s. I’ll just stay there. Wouldn’t want to interrupt your time with her.”

“Lucy joon, please talk to me. I know you’re mad-- you have your mother’s temper, but I think we should talk about this.”

“I’m going into my meeting. We’ll talk sometime this week,” she offered, shaking her head. “Just… I have to go.”

She didn’t wait for much of a reply because she knew he was playing low, dragging her mother into it. It only made it worse. Shoes sloshing against the tile of the lobby, she made her way to the elevator and decided firmly, once again, that she was not going to cry.

Her phone chimed with a handful of well wishes and good luck’s from the group chat and she thanked them quickly before trying to find the meeting information from her calendar, head down and lost in her own world as she stepped into the elevator and right into a stranger.

“I’m so sorry,” Lucy hurried, looking forward and then following the chest and then long pale neck up a few more inches to an amused smirk and eyes hidden by wayfarer sunglasses.

“Not a problem. I was in the way.”

The stranger ran her hand through a mop of curly copper hair atop her head, faded on the sides and shaggy on top, decidedly better put together than any tiktok boy’s. Her small smile pulled at bow-shaped lips and left dimples on both cheeks, and there were too many freckles to even begin counting. Lucy gulped before moving to the side and slinking to the back corner.

Of course she would get into an elevator with the hottest woman she’d ever seen. Of course she would nearly plow her over in her hurry. Of course she would be sweet and smile like that and have an adorably shaped chin and face. Of course Lucy would do all of that while looking like something the cat dragged in after a bad night.

But luck wasn’t with her today, and she was unable to hide too long, as no one else got on behind her and she heaved the heaviest sigh before looking down at her ruined stockings, spattered with mud and whatever else was festering in that puddle. Her skirt was soaked still and dripping and she was beginning to really feel it sinking into her skin. Phone clutched tightly in her hand, she felt the weight of it all and didn’t know what to do with it.

From under her brow she looked up to study the back of the stranger, their long legs and black jeans, their primly tucked in black t-shirt that stretched slightly across her shoulders, and the softest looking hair in the most beautiful shade of red she’d ever seen.

The elevator ascended approximately three floors before she started crying. Alligator tears slipped down her cheeks before she could do anything to stop them. And then the stranger cleared their throat and quietly turned around to verify what was happening, was actually happening, only making it worse.

But she didn’t say anything, just turned back around, and with the smallest movement stretched an arm forward to hold the elevator between floors, and quickly, Lucy turned herself around and faced the wall. She took a few steadying breaths and wiped her cheeks, mentally preparing to leave everything else behind and focus on the moment-- when she would be selling herself to one of the largest companies of all time to be the writer of the profile of their Director of Creative Design before they went public. She’d prepared. She was ready. Nothing else mattered and she was a goddamn adult.

The stranger, the kind, hot stranger pushed her sunglasses up into the messy curly hair and offered a smaller smile than before, the communal ‘it’ll be okay’ without saying anything. Lucy didn’t register much of it, just stared at the grey-green of her eyes, forgetting all else, and especially that she was a goddamn adult who desperately needed a payday to move out of her father’s place and away from whoever was moving into her mother’s side of the bed.

“I’m not usually,” she began, but bit her tongue because she didn’t want to lie. She was usually like this, just occasionally less muddy. “Thank you.”

“We can stay a few more minutes if you’d like. I don’t really want to go to work today.”

For the first time all day, Lucy smiled genuinely and felt lighter. It was that quick and that easy.

“It’s okay. I’m ready.”

A curt nod led to a stretch again and the elevator started once more. Lucy leaned across and pressed the button for her floor, catching a whiff of a distinctly woodsy smell, like sandalwood perhaps? There was a hit of lavender? Maybe cedar? It was wonderful. She wanted to breathe in more of it, but retreated before she was the girl who cried and sniffed people in the elevator.

The silence was oddly comfortable for a few more seconds until it dinged and she took the step out. The stranger politely held the door and offered one final smile, complete with just one dimple this time.

“Good luck,” she winked before pulling back, hands clasped loosely in front of her before the doors closed forever.

It couldn’t get better than that, Lucy decided, staring at the elevator doors and steadying herself once again. But she was hoping it couldn’t get worse either.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Quinn Sullivan wanted to die.

Not really die, but she might have taken a good coma. Just for like a week maybe. Or six months. Something long enough to beat out this hangover she was sporting, courtesy of her very thoughtful best friend, and if she was lucky, long enough to survive the offering and release of the new game. Maybe a year-long coma? Was that too much to ask for, honestly? Maybe the universe could toss her a bone, just this once, especially after the previous year of her life.

But in lieu of a swift and merciful death and/or coma, she was just going to have to survive the giant hangover that was currently attacking her body. All she needed was a quiet day and an extra large piece of leftover pizza she was certain was waiting in the staff fridge somewhere. Maybe some birthday cake--

And then a five-five wrecking ball of a human barreled into her chest.

The rest of her ride up, Quinn thought about the weird trip it’d been, and if she should have done something different. And then she beat herself up for winking. Who winked? Why did she wink? She’d never done it before. But she earned a smile from a cute girl, and there was a tiny flutter at the base of her rib cage, one she hadn’t noticed in a long, long time. She pressed her fingertips there for the rest of the ride to her floor.

With a groan, she put her sunglasses back on as the elevator dinged to her floor and took a deep breath to prepare for her day, not allowing her brain to trace out an entire life with the cute, crying stranger where they bought peaches at the farmer’s market on Saturday’s and danced in the kitchen. Romance was dead and dreaming was forbidden.

“Aspirin is already on your desk,” Jenny greeted her cheerfully. “With an egg sandwich and some fruit.”

“No leftover pizza?” Quinn didn’t pout, but she might have for that.

“Trust me, this will fix you up much better. I went to a state school, remember, MIT?”

“We partied…” Quinn trailed off as she pushed open the door to her office.

She hadn’t partied, but she was certain people had to have partied. It was college, and though it was many moons ago, she certainly couldn’t remember hangovers feeling like this. Maybe this is what almost thirty felt like. That thought didn’t help with the headache.

“All-night coding sessions don’t count. Eat the food. I’ll hold the wolves at bay as long as I can, but Chris and the Exlust team are adamant you have the meeting today to resolve story issues.”

Quinn tossed back the aspirin before she even sat down. Maybe Jenny was her universal compensation. The shades were already drawn so her normally bright office was much more tolerable. Even the eggs didn’t make her stomach swirl, and she was grateful her assistant learned something useful while studying biomedical engineering..

“I just need like an hour to work something out. I had an idea last night--”

“Before or after the sangria?”

“During. Definitely during, but still. I just need to work through it and then they can tear me to shreds. Can you add to my calendar a warning to never drink again?”

Quinn was fairly certain she’d texted her assistant that at some point in the morning. Probably before the shower, but after the first cup of coffee.

“Gladly,” Jenny smiled softly. “You doing okay? It’s been a while since you tied one on like this.”

“I’m fine. Just celebrating with Darcy. No more sad drinking, I believe was the rule you came up with and I follow all of your rules.”

With a roll of the eyes, files were placed on her desk and her assistant retreated to the ringing phones, which when the door was held open, were actual torture devices to Quinn’s brain.

“Sadie wants your afternoon free. I think it’s another reporter.”

“She’s relentless.”

“Maybe you’re impossible?”

“It’s genetic then,” Quinn sighed, munching on a grape and tugging open a notebook. “One hour, please?”

“I got you, boss.”

“Thanks.”

Never quite sure how Jenny did it, Quinn chose not to ask any questions. But when she asked for an hour, she got it. And despite the headache and laziness in her muscles, the food and aspirin did help so that by the end of her allotted time, she felt like she had captured the breakthrough that appeared to her the night before.

Before she could admire her work though, her team filed in and she was prepared to start her day, finally, even with the nagging idea of a reporter nipping at her thoughts through it all.

Somewhere between her breakfast and lunch, Quinn felt better. She fired off a few texts to see how Darcy was handling it and received only pictures of a half obscured but obviously still in bed face and chuckled to herself. It was a slower day, and she wasn’t about to waste it with a hangover. She should give Jenny a raise, she decided, because the woman could cure hangovers. Maybe submit her for the Nobel for Science.

“Sadie is here,” her assistant buzzed and Quinn lost all forms of motivation.

Her head hit her desk dramatically as the door opened and her sister walked in. Slightly shorter, but older by two years, Sadie was nearly everything Quinn could never manage to be despite her best intentions. She had the MBA from Harvard and the doting husband that came with it, a cute brownstone near White Hill and the park, and her first baby on the way. But even past her resume, Sadie Sullivan-Hawkins was personable and charismatic. She was adored and shrewd, capable of disarming anyone and eviscerating the others. It all came so easy to her, to have people around, to talk and be listened to, to be loved. She was a shark in business, and at the same time warm and put people at ease.

Quinn could barely tie her shoes and Sadie was running a marathon in life.

“Want to talk about it?” Sadie smiled as she took the seat across from Quinn’s desk.

“About what?”

“Why you’re getting drunk with Darcy on a Tuesday?”

“She got the job at Taylor and Vine. We were celebrating.”

“So not about Chloe’s announcement in the Times?”

Quinn played dumb, typing gibberish into her phone because she didn’t want to look at her sister’s kind and caring face. If she looked, then she’d have more feelings, and for the life of her, she just wanted the incessant tinnitus of the break up to disappear completely.

“Nope, I caught that this morning though, so I was in the right physical and mental place to really wallow. I don’t care about her.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard.”

“I have these notes to get done for the Shadow Operation team before our meeting with design. I’m fine. My ex can marry whoever she wants-- God knows she didn’t want to marry me. Good luck to the next sap.”

This made her sister chuckle, and Quinn smiled quietly to herself. There was still a bitterness there that she couldn’t get rid of. It was masking potentially the worst hurt imaginable. She preferred the bite of the bitter though. Easier to navigate.

“I have someone I want you to meet with.”

“Oh, fuck off Sadie,” Quinn moaned, knowing full well what was about to happen. “I’m not talking to anyone. You’re the face of this outfit. That’s what you told me.”

“You’ve run off three other reporters. Our public offering is going to underperform if there is no faith in the heart of our company,” she explained, sitting up a little straighter. “And that’s you. I might crunch the numbers and keep the lights on, but you are what people are buying.”

“Then you tell them about me. I don’t even have to be there.”

“If only that were true, my job would be a lot easier.”

At a stalemate, the sisters stared at each other for a few moments before Sadie broke, making a face as she smiled towards her lap, running her hand over the smallest bump barely showing. Quinn shook her head and looked away. Anywhere else was better than the damn disapproving look leveled at her now.

“I don’t know what to say,” Quinn finally muttered. “I don’t want to-- I can’t--”

“Chloe was an idiot. She broke your heart. Now, you barely exist, but I know that you’re still you. And we need this.”

“I can’t. I really can’t. I wish you’d get it.”

It hurt too much all over again. In a weird way, Quinn missed the feeling of the hangover because at least that was a useful ache. The dull throbbing in her chest and bones just felt hollow and haunting.

“We have a meeting with her. I’ve already walked her through the contracts and final edits, as well as shown her around. Please just rip the bandaid off and get it over with. She’s good. I’ve read a few of her pieces and Donna recommended her to me.”

Sadie had their mother’s eyes. It drove Quinn crazy, that she looked like she didn’t belong in her own family. It also meant it felt like her mom was staring at her and reminding her to do her chores. She rubbed the back of her neck, letting her head lull to the side.

“I’ll… I’ll try.”

“Yes! I knew it. Thank you. Seriously, Q. It’s going to be great. This is going to--”

“I said I’ll try. I didn’t say I’d do it.”

“It’ll be great,” Sadie ignored the warning, hopping up from her chair and moving to the door to beckon the reporter in. “Come in and meet the genius of the whole outfit.”

Quinn rubbed her face with her hands, digging her fingers into the corners of her eyes under her glasses before steadying herself. She could do it for her sister, she reminded herself, and that stupid niece or nephew she was incubating.

Maybe it would be as simple as ripping off a band-aid. Maybe she could just let a stranger rifle through her entire life and being, except that she wasn’t sure there was anything there anymore. Everything felt like she was going through the motions, and it was terrifying to Quinn to let someone see that she was barely stitched together. How could she explain that there was nothing behind door number one? Let alone number two or number three.

“Quinn, this is Lucy Madani. She’s a freelancer hired by New York Magazine. She did a great piece on the Attorney General last month and her article on the director who went on to win Cannes went viral.”

There was still mud on her skirt, but her stockings had been disbanded, gone forever, but it was unmistakable the stranger from the elevator standing in her office. That felt like an entire lifetime ago, and yet Quinn tried to swallow.

“You have longer hair, in the pictures I found of you online,” Lucy offered, overcoming her surprise much quicker. She stuck out her hand over Quinn’s desk and waited for her to shake it.

She was a reporter. A reporter who cried in the elevator. A reporter Quinn had, if she were being honest, checked out. But foremost, she was a reporter. She wanted to dive into the deepest parts of Quinn’s brain for profit, mutual benefit and all. It sounded dreadful.

The universe did not owe her anything, Quinn remembered, but the perpetual mocking was getting a little over the top.

“Quinn Sullivan,” she shook the hand presented and tried to breathe. Lucy’s hand was warm and felt soft. She wasn’t sure how to let go. “How’s it going?”

Fuck! Her mind blared as she dropped the reporter’s hand and mentally beat herself to a pulp. Who talked like that? And still, she could not answer, winked?

“It’s been a day,” she smiled, nodding to herself as she accepted the seat Quinn offered. “Your sister has sung your praises all morning though. I feel like I could write about your without even meeting you.”

“Great. Let’s do that.”

Sadie laughed but gave Quinn a stern look.

“I’m going to go grab you some passes and copies of the contracts,” Sadie smiled graciously at Lucy before turning to her sister. “Listen to her pitch.”

“Seems it’s been decided,” she muttered to herself before plastering on a smile.

“Don’t have too much fun. I’ll be right back.”

And with that she truly was gone, and Quinn was left in her office with the reporter who had pretty eyes. They felt like syrup-- warm and deep brown, gooey and sticky. Her face was longer, her nose thin and long, her lips full and bitten-- and Quinn snapped herself out of her perusal and felt her chest warm too much. No, the universe didn’t owe her anything, and the punishment for thinking it did was sitting across from her in a muddy skirt and gentle smile.

For just a moment, Quinn held her breath and willed a coma..

66 notes · View notes

desthesleepdeprivedwriter · 3 years ago

Text

Happy Birthday

It was 3 am, and Purpled wasn't able to sleep.

He was quietly sitting in his room, petting DogChamp while he was sleeping. Purpled eyes couldn't stop staring at the date showing in his communicator, a strange feeling slowly consuming him.

7th of July.

Purpled's birthday.

He sighed, deciding to do the same he did every year: get a small cupcake, place a match on it, and eat in the early morning. It wasn't a big deal, really.

He left his little tent, heading over towards the restaurant in Las Nevadas. It wasn't open for the public yet, but it was the only place they could have access to a proper kitchen. Purpled opened the Staff Only door, hearing the strange banging of pans and someone whispering swears. Probably another resident trying to have a night snack, Purpled couldn't blame them at all. He stepped in and stopped right away.

Well, he didn't expect to see Fundy in an apron, mixing something in a bowl and an immense mess around him.

"Uh… what are you doing here?" Fundy asked, immediately noticing Purpled's presence.

"What are you baking?" Purpled asked back, not wanting to answer.

"I asked first." Fundy replied, crossing his arms.

Purples sighed, no patience for that at the moment. "I just came here to eat something. Now, you go."

Fundy's ears twitched a little before pressing against his head. "I'm… baking a cake." He muttered, going back to mixing the ingredients.

Purpled, for a split of second, got happy with the info, but quickly dismissed it. No way it could be for him, just one person knew his birthday and Fundy certainly wasn't him.

Purpled noticed orange and green food coloring placed on the table, curiosity now flooding in. "So, did you just get a craving for cake in the middle of the night?" he played as a joke, going back to his search for a single cupcake.

"Nah, man… it's my birthday." Fundy replied, still talking in a low voice.

"No way!" Purpled said before he couldn't contain himself, getting himself into a mess as soon as Fundy stared at him, confusion all over his body language.

"What do you mean by 'no way'? It's not like being born on July 7th was a crime."

Purpled pondered his answers.

He could lie, say he didn't expect it, or that Fundy shouldn't bake the cake for his own birthday, or any shitty lie like that.

"It's my birthday too." It's what came out.

Fundy's eyes widened, then a smile appeared, to Purpled's surprise.

"Dude, that's neat!" Fundy said, now moving towards the cabinets in search for something. "Your favorite color is purple, right?" He stopped for a while, and then went back for the search. "Oh Void, that was a stupid question."

Purpled was still in place, watching as the fox picked a purple food coloring and went back to the cake making, adding more ingredients. "I just need to make more batter so we can have more cake, but it will be fine."

"Wait, wait… what are you doing?" Purpled approached Fundy, watching as he divided the dough into three different recipients. "Our birthday cake." He replied, pouring each food coloring into a different bowl and starting to mix.

"So… the colors represent us?" Purpled asked, just so he could be on the same page.

"Yep."

"Orange is you, purple is me."

"Yep."

"So, who is the green one?"

Fundy went silent for a while, and then opened a sad smile.

"Back before the revolution, when it was just us in a van… we didn't have so much money for food." Purpled didn't get the connection, so he kept waiting. "So, there couldn't be two cakes at my and Tubbo's birthday."

Fundy put each batter into a different cooking pan, putting one into the oven.

"So, Wilbur would bake a single cake, two layers, one orange, the other green." Fundy smiled a little, nostalgic. "It became a tradition, even after L'Manberg came to be."

He decided to use the other ovens in the kitchen, placing the other cooking pans.

"Each year, we had our birthday together, no matter what. Even if we were angry at each other, or we had to hide from the big bad dictator. One time, I had to enter his presidential office to force him to take his head out of the papers."

Purpled just listened in silence, quite in awe. Fundy was really someone that had lived through a lot, and somehow, still held on to little comforting traditions. It must be nice, having something like that.

"But… since L'Manberg has been gone…" Fundy sighed. "I kinda haven't celebrated my birthday. I decided to try this year." He laughed quietly. "And hey! This time I have you! It's not so pathetic."

Purpled chuckled, nodding along. "Well, it's the first time I celebrate my birthday with another person. It's not pathetic."

Fundy beamed, still in a good mood, and took the cakes out of the ovens. He waited for a little while, staring at Purpled, who just stared back. "Don't you think you are going to just watch. Come here and help me."

Purpled shrugged, taking a place right beside Fundy. They stacked one cake over the other, and started to decorate.

Minutes later, they had a somewhat pretty cake.

"It works." Fundy says, after thinking a little.

"It's the first time I decorate a cake, so it's beautiful."

"Eehh… At least it will taste good. It has chocolate." Fundy pointed out.

"Aren't foxes allergic to chocolate?"

"Irrelevant ."

They finished the icing and contemplated their creation before Fundy grabbed the plate, leaving the kitchen and hoping that Purpled would follow him, which he quickly did, even if he didn’t know where.

“If I ask where are you going, will you asnwer me?”

“I mean, it’s not only our birthday, is it?” Fundy contemplated as they passed the toll booth, making Purpled think a little. Yeah, it wasn’t only their birthday.

“Hey, so… Can I call someone else?” Purpled asked, communicator in hand already.

Fundy didn’t even finish saying yes and Purpled was already typing someone’s name into his contact info, waiting for just a few seconds until the other person answered his call.

“Punz? I need you to come over. Now.”

Meanwhile, Fundy was standing in front of a wall of lava. The heat was almost uncomfortable and was definitely unwelcoming. But Fundy had to come back home before Yogurt woke up, so he had a schedule to fill.

“Yo, Tubster!”

No replies.

“Cut the scene, I know you are there!”

Still no replies.

“I can literally see your shiny armor on top of the outpost, you idiot!”

Seconds of no answer, and then the lava started to go down. And so there he was, Tubbo Underscore, with the entire glory of someone who hasn’t slept in the last 2 days. Fundy knew that look pretty well.

“Why do you have a cake?”

Not a hello or good night. But Fundy was used to that.

“Do you know what day it is today?”

“Uuuuh…… Juuuuuunee..?”

Fundy waited to see if Tubbo was joking, all that was left it was silence.

“Tubbo…. That’s a month.”

“But it's the right month.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Are you sure of that, boss man?”

Fundy just stared, kinda worried for Tubbo, cake still in hands. “Today is July 7th.”

“Hm…”

They just stood there, Fundy being able to see the cogs turning in Tubbo’s head. Finally, it clicked. “Oh fuck! Today is July 7th!”

“Yes it is!”

“It’s our birthday!”

“Yeah!!!”

“Holy shit… I haven’t celebrated it since…”

Tubbo shut, eyes unfocused. Since L’Manberg was done. Since last time, at a tiny office with the height of presidential work on his shoulders.

“I know, I haven’t either.”

They faced each other again, and it was different now. It was a look that only them could have, suffering all of that. The cramped days at the van, L’Manberg, Schlatt, New L’Manberg. They could say something about it, some apologies, some “I missed it”, but they weren’t like that.

“I have a couple of cookies and regen potions at the back. Want me to get a couple of them for us two?” Tubbo smiled a little, trying to get back to their old routine.

“It's us three. There’s another birthday boy outside.”

“Wait, who?”

Purpled conveniently walked towards Fundy’s side, giving Tubbo a little wave. “Make it four, actually.” He showed the communicator. “I called Punz, also a ‘birthday boy’” He made quote marks in the air.

“Why do so many of us have the same birthday?” Fundy asked to no one in particular. Tubbo just shrugged, but Purpled had something to say about it.

“I mean, it’s not my actual birthday. I have no idea of when my birthday would be in this world.” He casually said, antennas slightly glowing in the night. “So, I just decided to snatch Punz’”

“Dude, I wish it was this easy to change birthdays.” Tubbo said, thinking. I’d change to something like…”

“4/20.”

“Fundy, you’re a genius”

“I know.”

Purpled smiled a little listening to them talking. It was comfortable, somehow, being part of something like that, even for one night. “I should have gone for 10/10” He added to the talk, taking out some blocks and starting to build a little desk for them to place the cake, outside of both Las Nevadas and the Cookie Outpost. Tubbo laughed, thinking about other funny birthdays while automatically helping. Fundy placed the cake on top of the desk, just staring.

“Wait. We have orange, purple and green. What’s Punz’ color?”

Purpled thought about it, but Tubbo already had a solution “The icing is white. He is white. Solved.”

“I’m what?”

Punz appeared out of nowhere, probably from an enderpearl. “You’re white, like the icing.” Tubbo explained.

“Also, you’re a birthday boy.” Fundy helped.

“There’s four of us” Purpled finalized.

Punz just stared at all four, letting out a sigh and taking off his armour. "Really, Purpled? I thought you were in trouble.”

“I’m never in trouble, you should be smarter than this.”

“You just… decided to throw a party?”

Purpled shaked his head, pointing towards Fundy. “It was his idea.”

Punz looked at the other two, they were arguing over the number of candles. Fundy wanted to put only four, Tubbo wanted to put as many as it could fit. For a moment, Punz could see two different people there, fighting over stupid shit as a third one just stared, amused. It was so familiar, but so different. It hurt.

“But hey, you don’t have to stay if you doesn’t wa-”

“Get me a chair, it’s free food.”

Purpled smiled, a real one for once, and gave him a chair.

The four of them sat on the table, Fundy being the one to stood up after finally settling with a normal amount of candles on the cake.

“Ok, now we sing.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“We ain’t singing, bossman”

“It’s sad if it's for ourselves.”

“It’s not??”

Purpled saw this banter would drag until sunrise, so he picked a bottle, catching everyone's attention.

“Lets keep it simple, boys. Happy Birthday to us.”

Punz gave him a small smile back, grabbing a potion for himself. “We made it through another year, what a win.”

Tubbo laughed to himself, joining the toast. “Still one life left, gotta keep like that until next year.”

Fundy was the last one, a grateful smile on his face. “Glad we have each other this time.”

“If the cake is good, I will come to next year’s party.”

“So it was nice meeting you, Punz.” Tubbo joked, making the rest of the table laugh a little.

And there they stayed until the sunrise slowly appeared in the distance, bathing them in a golden, lazy light.

“Damn, this was fun.”

“Not the best cake, but I’ll come back.”

“Fuck off.”

Tubbo was asleep on the table, finally able to relax. Fundy poked him, with no reaction.

“I can carry him inside, don’t worry.” Punz guaranteed, getting up.

“Thanks man, I have to go before my kid wakes up.” Fundy smiled, getting the empty cake plate.

“You have a kid?”

“Yeah, his name is Yogurt and that gremlin needs to be kept on a leash.” Purpled interrupted, earning a weak slap from Fundy. “Shut up, my kid is not a gremlin, he has just a lot of energy.”

Punz laughed, picking up Tubbo like a sack of potatoes, still with no response. “Thanks for the party, guys.”

Fundy smiled back, waving. “Happy birthday, Punz.”

“Happy birthday, boys.”

And they walked in opposite paths.

----------------------------------------

Taglist!

@a-wild-rosette @fishjuice @blipblipimafish @thenerdistrying @beepboopgalaxies (bc i know u like my writing for some reason) @geminisync (bc i want ur clout) @oakskull (bc if i press u enough u will read it <3)

#Not a commission #fundy #tubbo #punz #purpled #dream smp #HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE BIRTHDAY BOYS #hope u guys like it :D #i speedrun this

109 notes · View notes

starfleetbotanist · 3 years ago

Text

Physician, Heal Thyself (But Not Always)

🌹

It had been stupid, even he would admit that. Academy students were typically supposed to avoid bar fights. But Cupcake had been talking smack, and he'd had a few too many, so he had allowed the inevitable to happen. What he hadn't expected was for six other cadets to decide to use him as a punching bag. More surprising, though, was Bones.

He'd vaguely heard Bones trying to reason with his assailants before the roar in his ears drowned him out, but a fist to the stomach is a much more pressing matter than a pacifist doctor trying to tell you logic you don't want to hear, so he'd more or less written him off. That is, until he saw a cadet fall at his feet and turned to see his friend wading- and punching- through the crowd towards him.

He leapt at one of Cupcakes cronies as he landed a solid punch to Bones' face, causing the man to stumble back, a protectiveness he hadn't felt since Tarsus rising in him. But Bones regained his footing and gave as good as he'd gotten, before finally reaching Jim. Then he grabbed him by the collar of his uniform and dragged him from the bar, much like a mama cat with her errant kitten.

He stared at him, stunned, the entire way back to their room, Bones loudly scolding him about safety and rules the whole way, wiping blood from his now evidently broken nose. A sick feeling overcame him. What happened now? Was Bones going to leave, like Sam had?

He found himself dumped on the couch in an ungraceful heap as Bones' angry footsteps carried him to the bathroom and back. He sat on the coffee table, and Jim was relieved to see his medkit resting on his knee. He was (mostly) a model patient as Bones scrubbed at his cuts with antiseptic before using the portable dermal regen.

"You've got too damn good a brain, Jim, to go and get it knocked around by fools like that, y'hear me?"

He blinked. No, he hadn't heard him. Upon realizing that, Bones rolled his eyes before reaching over and lightly slapping his head- a move too gentle to actually hurt, and which he immediately followed with an affectionate ruffle of Jim's hair.

"This, your brain. Use it."

With that, he got up and headed back to the bathroom. Jim followed on his heels.

"That's it? You're not... More angry?"

"Jim, I knew when I signed up to be your friend there'd be risks. If a bar fight's the most danger we get in together I'd be surprised."

"But you got hurt!"

"Yeah, and you owe me for that."

He stopped in front of the mirror, opening his case again and finding the regen and a hypo. He reached up and, with a grunt, popped his nose back into place. He swore as he turned the hypo on himself, eyes watering.

"Scratch that, you really owe me," he said through gritted teeth.

"Sorry," Jim replied. He meant it. He hated seeing Bones hurt.

"Just-- use your head next time. Okay?"

"Yeah-- yeah, okay, Bones. I promise."

"Good." He washed the blood on his face and hands before turning back to face him. "Then we can forget about it."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that."

"Okay. Thanks, Bones."

"Anytime, kid."

🌹

Nyota held her wrist to her chest, waiting in the academy clinic. She had hurt it in combat class that day, but thankfully not too badly. The clinic was understaffed that day, and she had told Christine she was fine waiting. It was just her and two other cadets in the waiting room, after all. Not everyone was quite so patient, though.

One of the others, a command cadet, was complaining loudly, drumming his fingers on the arm of his chair, and bouncing his leg in agitation.

"How much longer is this gonna take?" He asked when Christine opened the door to call another patient back.

"Doctor McCoy or Doctor M'Benga will be able to see you soon, sir," she answered. "We will get to you as soon as we can."

Nyota prided herself on her ability to read people, and what she saw from the other cadet was not encouraging. He jumped up to his feet, crossing over to Christine with surprising speed.

"You can't just come back here!" She said, positioning herself between the cadet and the door.

"Watch me!" He snapped, grabbing her shoulder and shoving her out of the way.

Nyota rose, but she didn't need to interfere. Just as he was stepping into the hallway, he ran face first into Doctor McCoy, summoned by Christine's shout.

"Didn't you hear the lady? She said you ain't gettin' in here!" He snapped, though Nyota could see him running a clinical eye over the cadet. "Easy now. Looks like you're in withdrawal. How many stims have you taken?"

"None of your business!" The man snapped, and before anyone could stop him, caught McCoy on the side of the head with a right cross.

Christine leapt in, then, getting him into a safe hold and grabbing his arm to pin behind him as McCoy called for M'Benga to bring a sedative.

"Dammit," he swore as the other doctor handed him the hypo. "Sucker punches harder than he looks."

Once he was sedated, security called, and a treatment plan discussed for the over-use of stims to get him through the command courses, the cadet was taken to Starfleet Medical for a proper detox.

"You okay, Chris?" McCoy asked. Nyota had come to Christine's side as the cadet was taken away. The two had been friends since their first year.

"Just fine," she promised. "Didn't even fall. What about you?"

"I'll be fine," he shrugged. "Happens sometimes. Nothin' the regen can't fix."

"You might want to get on that before it swells too much, Len" M'Benga said. "I can finish up here."

"It'll hold," McCoy insisted. "But you can take that patient we just called back. C'mon, Ny, I only need one eye to see the swelling in that wrist."

"Only if you fix your eye, too," she threatened, following him back to one of the rooms.

"Wrist first," he said, taking out his tricorder. She answered his questions, let him strap the regen unit to her, and stared him into submission until he began treating himself while they waited.

"Are you sure you're alright?" She asked once they had both finished.

"Ain't that my line? Any residual pain?"

"None, thank you. Now answer me."

"I'm okay," he promised. "Not my first rodeo with someone hyped up on stims, and it won't be my last."

"Can't say I envy you."

"Yeah, well, it happens. Now, you be careful in that combat class, okay? Stretch right, and be careful which moves you use on which partners."

"I will. Thanks, Len."

"Sure, Ny."

🌹

"Scotty."

He looked up from the manual he was reading at the sound from the bathroom door.

"Ah, Doc! What can I do for you?"

"You can take a break from straining your eyes and come have some coffee."

He laughed, lowering the PADD he was reading from.

"Aye, that sounds good. What're you doin' up so early?"

He followed him into his room, where he could smell fresh coffee brewing. Like many things, McCoy seemed to prefer real coffee, and while Scotty tended to be more of a tea man, he never turned down real foods or drinks.

"Haven't been to bed yet- don't tell Jim or Spock."

He poured them both a cup, handing Scotty one of them and motioning to the sugar and creamer he'd set out.

"Aren't you the one always telling the crew the importance of a good sleep schedule?"

"Yeah, and that's why I'm askin' you not to tell on me," he grinned.

"Can you not sleep?"

"No, not really. I've been goin' over that last accident in Engineering. I've written up a few training proposals, and wanted you to read through them and tell me which you think'll work best before I submit them."

"Have you been working on this all day?"

"Since my shift ended, yeah."

Scotty saw him take two tiny pills from a bottle on his desk and take them before rubbing his eyes.

"Sorry, headache. Ibuprofen. Been at this a little too long, I think."

"Why push yourself like this, then?"

He scanned the proposals, an interdisciplinary first aid course specific to Engineering and the various injuries and accidents that could happen, a triage proposal to better prepare medical staff for what to expect when an accident is called in, and new safety guidelines and equipment inspection schedules.

"Well, every second counts, you know that. The sooner we get this smoothed out, the better. It could be life or death, and I'm not about to play games there."

"You never do," Scotty grinned, picking up a stylus and making a few notes. "I like this so far. I hope you made a lot of coffee, because I have a few ideas, too."

"I hoped you would," McCoy grinned, and the two sat down to begin work.

🌹

"You called me, Doc?"

"Mr Sulu, perfect timing!"

Doctor McCoy was standing by a selection of plants, studying them intensely.

"The botany department sent these up. They're medicinal. But the labels got mixed up, and we don't really know what's what."

"That's unusual," Sulu grinned, looking down at the selection. "She's usually more organized when making deliveries."

He began to catalogue the plants, calling to mind their uses.

"Fever few, plantain... Several of these are for stopping bleeding."

"Yeah, that's what we're hoping for. We're training our medics to learn other ways to heal in the field."

"Good idea," Sulu nodded, fixing the lables.

"Thank you for the help," McCoy grinned. "Oh, Lieutenant Lyle brought another plant, but I'm not sure what it does. It was bigger than the others, so I set it in the office. Little bastard scratched me, too."

Sulu laughed, plucking a plantain leaf and handing it to him.

"Chew on that for a minute and put it on the cut, that will help."

He heard McCoy's thanks as he went into the office. He gasped. On the desk was a rare Andorian Passionflower- spiked where its Earth counterpart was not, and blue instead of purple. In place of a label there was a note, and he recognized the handwriting.

"Ben?"

"Surprise," McCoy said, stepping in. He had the chewed leaf against his finger. "We were asked not to tell you anything."

He opened the envelope. It was handwritten anniversary card. He smiled, warmth filling him.

"Happy anniversary, you two," McCoy said, patting him on the shoulder. "There's minutes on my computer for subspace communication. He's waiting for you to call."

"Thanks, Doc," he answered, wiping sudden tears from his eyes.

McCoy patted his back again before leaving him to his call.

🌹

"Doctor?"

"Mhm?"

"Why did you do it?"

McCoy looked at Chekov, who was eyeing wound on his arm with deep concern.

"Reflex," he lied, finishing ripping his uniform shirt into bandages. He turned his eyes away, focusing on tying off and tending the wound until the ion storm ended and they could contact the Enterprise.

"Captain Kirk is right. You are a terrible liar, sir."

He snorted, tying off his makeshift sling. He'd taken a rather severe cut from a spear from one of the inhabitants of this supposedly uninhabited planet. The spear had been aimed at Chekov, but he had managed to push the kid out of the way just in time.

"Captain Kirk can mind his own business."

"Doctor..."

McCoy sighed, leaning back against the cave wall. Chekov joined him, still looking at him with wide-eyed worry.

"You remind me of Joanna."

"Huh?"

"I did it because you remind me of Joanna."

"Who is Joanna?"

"My daughter. My whole world. I don't get to see her often, but she's my pride and joy."

"And I remind you of her?"

"Yeah. Can't explain it. It's probably because you're so young, or some misplaced guilt about not being there to protect JoJo that makes me want to look out for you instead that the psychologist really doesn't wanna think too much about."

He shrugged, closing his eyes.

"That, and I'm a doctor, and your senior officer. Not gonna let you get hurt if I can help it."

Running for their lives had worn him out, it seems. Chekov studied him for a moment before placing his head on his shoulder.

"You are very much the papa I always wanted. My grandmother, she told me stories about him. He was a good man. If he was... If I had known him longer, I would have liked for him to be like you, Doctor."

He felt a strong hand ruffle his hair.

"Get some rest, kid. I'll keep watch."

Chekov smiled, allowing his own eyes to close. He fell asleep wondering if McCoy would laugh or be angry that he had become, as the captain said, a "mama bear."

🌹

Spock stood beside Captain Kirk's hospital bed, arms folded behind his back. He had come to check on the progress of McCoy's serum on their friend. But, also, he was here to check on McCoy. Nyota had expressed worry over him that morning after visiting.

"You want a seat, Spock?"

He turned as the doctor entered the room, a cup of coffee in one hand and a PADD in the other.

"No, thank you, Doctor."

McCoy set the coffee aside, moving to the bed to compare the data on the PADD to the biobed readings. As Spock watched him, he began to really notice the state the doctor was in. His eyes were bloodshot, ringed in dark circles, his hair sticking at odd angles, as though he had run his fingers through it many times. He hadn't shaved, and was looking rather gaunt.

"When did you last sleep, Leonard?"

"Does it matter, Spock?"

"I think it would matter to the captain. And... I admit to a concern, as well."

"May miracles never cease," McCoy muttered, and they both knew what miracle he was praying for.

"Doctor, you must rest. The captain's status is unlikely to change in the time it would take for you to eat and sleep."

"I can't, Spock. Not right now."

"Why?"

"Because he needs me."

"He needs all of you, Leonard. Not a shell of yourself."

McCoy's shoulders sagged at that.

"I don't want to leave him," he admitted. "I promised I wouldn't leave him."

"You do not have to leave him. You could bring a cot into this room, perhaps. Shower in the en suite, and eat the meals Nyota has been bringing you."

"When I try to sleep, Spock, all I can see is him in that chamber. In that damn body bag in my medbay. It... It hurts, Spock. In a very human way, it hurts. It- this grief, it's like a wound, Spock."

"As you so often tell me, Leonard, you are a doctor. You treat wounds, better than most. You are healing the captain. The best way to heal that grief is to continue to do so. But if you damage yourself with overwork, you will not be able to care for him to the best of your abilities."

McCoy was silent for a moment before nodding.

"You're right... Thank you, Spock."

"It is... My pleasure, Leonard."

When he visited again that night, he found McCoy asleep on a cot not far from Kirk's bed, PADD still in hand. He had showered and shaved. The plate Nyota had sent him was now empty, and someone, presumably nurse Chapel, had covered him with the knitted blanket that he usually kept on the couch in his office.

Spock allowed himself to feel relieved, and quietly retreated, turning down the lights as he did so. The next morning, Kirk woke up.

🌹

"He may be a little disoriented when he wakes up," M'Benga told the assembled officers. "It was touch and go there, and we nearly lost him a few times. But I do believe he will make a full recovery."

"You are sure?" Chekov asked, his face pale. Sulu had his hand on his back for support.

"Yes. He is stable. Now all he needs is rest."

"Thank you," Kirk spoke up, gripping one of McCoy's hands from his place beside his bed. "Bones couldn't have been in better hands."

"You remind him of that when he wakes up," M'Benga laughed quietly, his calm manner helping ease the tension in the crowd. "You can talk to him now, too. Even if he doesn't hear you, it'll help him to have friendly voices around."

Scotty coughed to hide a relieved sniffle, and patted Kirk's shoulder amiably.

"Why don't you start, Captain?"

Kirk nodded, thinking.

"Bones, you know we all love you, right? So you've gotta come back to us. It's not the same without you here yelling at me."

"Indeed, Doctor. Your colorful metaphors are... Missed." Spock looked down the line of visitors expectantly.

"Da, and you promised to let us talk to Joanna next time she called you!" Chekov watched the sleeping man eagerly.

"Yeah, she and Demora are going to space camp together," Sulu pitched in. "If you don't wake up soon, who's gonna tell them how dangerous it is?"

Nyota laughed at that, and everyone (save Spock) grinned.

"Aye, Len. And you're gonna have to be the one to tell Jaylah what happened, you know," Scotty said. "Otherwise the lassie's likely to steal a ship and come all the way from Earth to make sure you aren't still hurt."

"What about you, Uhura?" Kirk asked. "You know how he likes to hear you sing. Why don't you sing one of his favorites."

"Good idea," she nodded, thinking. "I know just the one."

Soon the medbay was filled with her soft, comforting voice.

"I'll keep you safe..."

🌹 This was a long one! Thank you for reading! This was based on a prompt by @hlabounty96 ! I hope you enjoyed! 🌹

#leonard mccoy #james t kirk #jim kirk #spock #nyota uhura #scotty star trek #pavel chekov #hikaru sulu #star trek aos #star trek #my writing

71 notes · View notes