#I don’t want to go on supplemental oxygen again | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

faustocosgrove · 2 years

Text

read this fantastic post about the vegan to ecofascist pipeline yesterday and the OP already has like 50 annoying people in the comments and i’m currently suffering from a bout of can’t shut up disease so i’ve made my own post. and god knows this is already a dissertation and i haven’t even written it yet.

going to be referencing the inspirational post throughout, and i refer to the points in the pipeline as steps 1 through 7 for brevity’s sake.

the OP refers to the crossing from step 3 to step 4 as where the danger starts, but from step 2 to step 3 is where the problems start. they do point out in the description of step 5 that not all animal products are produced in a way that harms the environment, but if you personally decide to not consume any animal products because some or many animal products are produced in a way that is harmful to the environment you’ve already lost the plot. this is terf brand “some men are bad therefore all men are evil” bullshit. like if you want to be vegan for literally any other reason you do you, but there is an element of willfully ignoring sustainable animal farming in the pipeline’s line of thought.

besides, the whole point of not buying animal products because their production is bad for the environment is a boycott. for a boycott to work you’re supposed to go back to buying the product once the company has fixed whatever it is that they’re fucking up. otherwise they’re not going to change. why would they? if you’re never buy beef again the cattle farmer has nothing to gain by not pumping his sewage into the river.

and yeah yeah yeah i know the voting with your dollar thing isn’t the way things work. like y’all remember that post about people in indonesia(?) having no guilt for wearing mass produced t shirts when the factory in their backyard is fucking up their fields? there is another way, vegans haven’t figured that much out yet. the whole idea that “production of X bad therefore i’m not going to buy X” is already signed up to the voting with your dollar individualistic notion of the power of the consumer. but even when you stay within the economic framework this idea comes from, the rest of the pipeline becomes silly.

step 4 is silly because previously, before step 3 vegans had a choice, either they could solve the problems of cafos with individualistic choices or with collective action and they chose individualistic choices. the very next step is collective action, or an attempt at rallying collective action. the whole individualistic thing clearly doesn’t work or else no one would get past step 3. but rather than think about other collectivist things they could do, we’re sticking with the incorrect framework and going with it. gonna whittle that square peg to fit in the round hole. already this is a population of people who cannot handle being wrong about something.

step 5 is more vile than silly because if someone isn’t making enough money to buy the gelatin free supplement pills you need to take while on a vegan diet in order to get all your micronutrients and amino acids that it’s their fault climate change is happening???? or like for food allergies, if nuts and soy are off the table then a person can literally be born with a body that is morally impure and corrupt and contributing to climate change. this step is already eugenics.

step 6 is silly because it was actually algae who first changed the climate on earth by oxygenizing the atmosphere :-) but i digress. like how do you do this entire category of “humans bad” without including yourself??? if you can conceptualize “vegans good, non vegans bad” you have got to have some sort of types of humans categories. not that the sorting of people was good before but like i don’t get how anyone can think this. there is just so much less mental gymnastics you have to do to just say “it’s not the individual it’s the corporations!” but for some reason there’s this clinging to the ideas of personal choice and personal freedom. this step also reeks of catholic guilt.

step 7 is silly because the whole point of bettering the environment is so that it is more habitable for humans. like hello hypothetical vegan who is reading this and frothing at the mouth. you’ve set out to do one thing and ended up doing the opposite thing. you moron. you dumbass.

and as i sit here staring at the intellectual chasm between steps 5 and 6, the only way i can possibly come up with where someone would think this is if they were experiencing extreme isolation. and there’s also a chasm between 3 and 4 of people minding their business even if they’re not doing logic correctly and the vegans we all hate who do dramatic reenactments of a jehovah's witness on your door step but with a vegan lifestyle. and hold on i’m having a Kronk moment here it’s all coming together. isolation, jehovah’s witnesses, the I in BITE is isolation, that’s right veganism is a cult. the whole thing about vegans being the most annoying people on the planet isn’t for them to convince anyone, it’s to cement them in the cult. like if the recruitment works i’m sure like any cult they’ll take anyone they can get but just like jehovah’s witnesses that’s not the point.

did i mention yet that this pipeline of greased first with don’t kill and eat the cute animals sentiments then further down with shock images of slaughter houses? the peta aspect is a hook to get people into this. so is the purity hook, i think that’s the reason they bother with arguing that it’s not moral to eat meat from small farms because small farms can still be exploitative. and like *frustrated noise* anything with a purity hook should be so easy to see that it’s fascism!!!!!! like how is this still a problem? we are on the queer and autism website. no one here is “pure” in the way the world outside of this screen wants you to be as a person. why is there no site wide discussion about letting go of purity as an idea? like 5 years ago there was a site wide discussion about ecofascism and ecofascist dog whistles, particularly with captain planet memes. how is there not a “quick guide to not being a fascist on the internet” post????

also have i mentioned that the notes on this post are so good? well the reblogs and tags are anyway. don’t go in the comments. people bring up the racism, the lack of concern for plant agriculture, the overpopulation myth, the fact that you can’t farm on all land and sometimes you’ve gotta use grass and grazing animals, vegan leather really being plastic, the christianity, also the person who tagged it as “capitalism can eat a bag of dicks” made my day.

i need to stop. i know no one has actually read all of this. in conclusion: veganism is a cult, fascism is bad, and i wish i could bang out a thousand words after thinking about a subject for less than 24 hours with my brain in a state where i am simultaneously thinking everything and nothing and i feel like i am vibrating sideways into a different dimension (no i have not taken any drugs shut up) and get a degree from it just like a real dissertation BYE

#shut up fausto #vegans #cults #nazis

4 notes · View notes

navibluebees · 2 years

Text

Pieces of a Soul - Chapter 6

Please read before interacting.

Warning for a medical emergency involving short air supply.

A light breeze tickled Naomi’s neck. She wearily patted next to her, searching for her blanket to cover up but all she could feel was grass. She tried to breathe deeply but was only able to pull in short breaths. A red light flashed in her face, signaling that her air was close to running out. She wheezed and tried to roll over, coming face to face with Mìmuk. She weakly tried to push her off. At some point in the night, they’d ended up on the ground, Naomi tucked under her arm and leg. Useless, she tried to breathe slowly to conserve air but it was barely working. Her eyelids fluttered shut.

~~~

Keveya was walking around the camp that morning. He enjoyed the low buzz of conversations and smells of late morning food. He curved around a large tent and came upon something he never expected to see. Mìmuk was sleeping on the ground curled on top of a human and the human was … Naomi. He got closer warily and saw a light flashing on her mask. He crouched closer and heard a slight wheeze from her mouth. Panicking, he realized she was in trouble. He immediately started pulling Mìmuk’s arm and leg off of her, shoving her to the side. The quick movement woke her and she sprung up, hissing at him. Too late, she realized Naomi was scooped in his arms and moving quickly away from where they’d spent the night. She took off running after him.

“Hey! Hey, where are you going?!”

He stopped and turned around, nostrils flaring and then deciding it wasn’t worth the trouble, turned around and sprinted to the labs.

She caught up and kept pace with him. He growled and grumbled, “How could you be so thoughtless? Falling asleep with her outside? You know she can’t breathe our air!”

Everything finally making sense, Mìmuk’s brows drew together and she ran faster. They finally made it to the labs and pulled open the door, ducking to take her inside.

They set her down gently on the floor. The scientists already working were stunned for a moment before they jumped into action. They called the medical staff over and came to take off Naomi’s mask. She still breathed shallowly.

The medical staff rushed in with supplemental oxygen and looped the new mask around the back of her head. Norm saw the two Na’vi standing there stunned and grabbed masks for them as well. The Na’vi didn’t have to breathe Pandoran air constantly, so they took a breath every so often. Keveya started pacing back and forth, a bit hunched over in the human-sized space.

A minute later, Naomi took a deep breath more on her own and they both moved forward to see her. Norm pushed in front of them and said, “OUT!” Flinching back, they both lowered their ears and turned to go. He followed them out and pulled down a mask on the way. Slamming the door behind him, he whirled on them, his face thunderous. To Mìmuk he said, “You should know better. You know humans don’t survive in the air out her without proper air supply.” He turned on Keveya next. “And you. You.. ugh. She wants to trust you. I haven’t the slightest idea why. If you hurt her again, you will regret it. Stay out here for now. Both of you.”

~~~

Keveya began to pace outside, muttering to himself, trying to be calm. Mìmuk sat a short distance away, her head in her hands. He growled in frustration. “What were you even doing with her? Why were you sleeping outside?”

She cut her eyes over to him and said, “She wanted comfort. So I gave it.”

His ears swiveled, tail flicked, unable to hide his agitation. “What was wrong?”

She shrugged. “She didn’t seem like she wanted to talk, so I just held her.”

A jealous heat surged through his body but he reeled it in, calming himself with a few breaths. Thoughts raced through his head. 'She isn’t mine. She never will be.'

Max came outside and down the steps, over to where they stood. “She’s okay. This time. Please don’t let it happen again.”

~~~

Naomi was gathering strength and pushing herself to a sitting position in the bed she’d been put in. She looked to the side and saw Norm glowering at her. She cringed and lowered her head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I couldn’t sleep, so I went for a walk. I saw Mìmuk and talked with her for a minute and then she held me and I fell asleep.”

Conflicting emotions rushed across his face and he groaned, putting his head in his hands. “You.. You can’t..Agh.” He held one of her hands in his. “Just because it worked for Jake doesn’t mean it’ll work for anyone else.”

She recoiled. “Norm, what are you talking about?”

He flattened his mouth, breathing hard through his nose and pulled back the curtains to show the training area right outside. Mìmuk and Keveya were outside, ears flattened, baring teeth at each other, tails swishing back and forth. Letting the curtain fall closed, he waited until she looked at him to speak. “They wouldn’t be out there if they didn’t care for you. I don’t want you to get hurt. If you fall in love, then what?”

Baffled, she couldn’t control her eyes from widening dramatically. “Norm, they’re just friends if even that. I barely know them. I’m sorry I messed up, but it doesn’t mean I’m ready to run and become one of the People right away.”

Norm looked at her skeptically, but sat back in the chair and let it go.

~~~

After she was cleared by the medical team, she went straight for the pod. Max saw her coming and said, “Hey, maybe you can wait for tomorrow.”

She sighed deeply and said, “Thank you for your concern, but I am going now.”

~~~

She woke up in her Avatar body a few minutes later and immediately stretched out her stiff joints. Sitting with her legs braced on the floor, she gathered herself to be able to go face the two waiting for her. She showered quickly and changed, heading down the steps.

Shielding her eyes with her hand, she looked up and was surprised to see the two making their way to her quickly. Mìmuk immediately bowed her head and apologized for her carelessness. Naomi smiled and patted her arm, saying, “It was my fault too. Please don’t worry about it.” She turned to Keveya. “I heard you carried me here. Thank you.” He nodded stiffly.

She inhaled deeply and turned to walk toward the camp, the other two rushing to follow after her. After a few steps she turned and saw they were flanking behind her on either side. They all looked at each other. She raised an eyebrow and tugged them forward beside her, looping her arms through one of theirs on either side.

“Can either of you take me to Leyra? I noticed her clothing the other day and complimented it. She said she would help me make some like it.”

Mìmuk’s head twisted quickly to hers. “Of course. She is my mother."

#avatar fanfiction #avatar way of water #avatar movie #avatar 2009 #avatar 2

3 notes · View notes

wri0thesley · 3 years

Text

examination - overhaul x reader (2.5k)

warnings: dark content. yandere/overly controlling overhaul. non-consensual drugging, medical kink, glove kink, examination, surgical setting kind of, reader is basically a prisoner, choking, mindbroken reader, needles, non-con implied. afab reader, fem pronouns. not sfw, minors dni!

me: might write that overhaul choking drabble today idk. also me: writes this 2.5k shameful bullshit instead

this is the first mha fic i’ve ever written pls be nice to me, i love this horrible horrible man

The leather of the operating table sticks to your bare thighs uncomfortably as you tug the gown down, despite knowing that the small gesture is useless. You will end the ‘examination’ on your back, gown pushed around your hips, feet in stirrups--

The door opening startles you, big doe eyes flying to the door to see him. Half of his face is still covered by the bird-mask that you always see in your nightmares, but the overall expression of his eyes is satisfied. You are exactly where he told you to be, exactly when he told you to be, exactly how he told you to be. It’s not a surprise – he’s aware of how much fear he commandeers – but it’s still pleasing to remember just how thoroughly broken you are.

He doesn’t greet you as he comes to stand by the operating table, his eyes instead roaming over all of the bare skin not covered by the medical gown. You’ve been careful. You know that you’re not bruised, or cut, or scratched – you’d looked at yourself in the mirror before you’d made your way here.

Bare-faced, hair brushed back, skin still looking a little uncomfortable and raw from the thorough scrubbing you’d given yourself. It’s better to pre-empt these things, you’ve learnt.

He lets out a sigh. Gloved fingers come to pinch at his mask and remove it – you lean back automatically, not wanting to breathe on him or anything that might set him off, and you win a light tilt of his lips that’s covered with a clinical black surgical mask a moment after you’ve seen it.

The gloves he’s wearing are tugged off with a furrow of displeasure, dropped onto the tray beside him as he snaps the new dark latex ones over his hands and wrists instead. Seeing his bare hands always makes a flash of fear go through you. He does not threaten, in so many words – but sometimes, if you displease him, he tugs at the wrist and you feel coldness drench your back.

“Open your mouth,” he says, detached. He always talks like that to you; still, you occasionally hear talk of what he’s like with those who have displeased him, and you think perhaps his cool detachment as he probes and pokes and prods at you is preferable to the other options. Two of his fingers push on your lower lip, forcing your jaw wider until you ache. “Stick out your tongue.”

You think actual doctors use some kind of tool for this; you don’t think they press two long fingers onto their patient’s tongues so that your eyes squeeze shut for a moment, the taste of rubbery latex flooding your senses. You just manage to stop yourself gagging; there’s no telling what he’ll do if you do that with his fingers still in your mouth.

“Hmm.” He says, golden eyes trailing over your tongue. You are not aware of the throb of heat that goes through him at the sight of you, docile and obedient, your mouth wide open for him. He is an expert in making sure his feelings do not project onto his face. “I’ll up your vitamin dose.” He pulls his fingers out, eyes narrowing in displeasure as he changes out the glove on the hand that was on your tongue.

You sometimes wonder how many pairs he goes through, and let yourself have a brief smile at the thought of how much of the Shie Hassaikai’s budget must be devoted to things like surgical masks and latex gloves and anti-bacterial hand gels. Certainly, your little room in the compound must have cost a pretty penny in all of the vitamins and supplements and other various medications that Overhaul tells you to take.

Another vitamin. Your face is falling before you can stop it, and school your features into a blank mask. He does not miss the change; you are usually so good for him.

(You don’t need to be taking half of the things that Overhaul makes sure are emptied into your too-large pillbox. But you’re easier, sweeter and more pliant when you’re so drugged up you can barely open your eyes.)

“Is there something wrong?”

There’s a knife edge to his voice. Your shoulders shrink in, fear evident in every inch of your expression. Thumb and forefinger come to grip your chin, jerking it harshly so you’re looking directly upwards into narrowed, golden eyes.

“I asked you a question. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

A knot of fear in your throat almost stops you from speaking; but that fear, you know, will be tenfold if you make him madder than you already seem to have. Overhaul doesn’t shout; but his cool, clinical tone and the dangerous glint of his iris is just as frightening as if he did.

“I already take so many,” you whisper, your voice very quiet, cracking. You don’t speak much anymore. His face twitches.

“Perhaps a throat spray, too,” he says, evenly. The fingers on your face trail down, and you bite back a whimper as suddenly both of his hands are on your neck, thumbs pressing directly into your windpipe. He doesn’t press, yet, but the danger lingers there as he keeps his gaze on you. “You sound scratchy.”

(He thinks of a throat numbing spray; of your sleepy, dazed eyes as he pushes himself further inside. He might make you bleed, or tear something, he supposes – but his quirk was made for quickly fixing such flaws, even if he was the one to have made them.)

He presses one thumb down, relishing in the soft wheeze that issues forth from your mouth; the terrified, deer-in-headlights shine of your eyes under fluorescent lighting.

“S-sorry, ‘m sorry--” You manage, voice sounding even drier than before. Overhaul tips his head to one side to consider you. You certainly look sorry, pathetic as you are. But . . . not good enough. Your neck feels good under his hands. He presses the other thumb.

Your hand flies up as if you’re going to grab his forearm, but flutters before it does. You force it back down, curling your fingers around the edge of the operating table – good. He doesn’t know how he’d have punished you if you’d been so bold as to touch him without permission or asking, but he knows you won’t have liked it.

You hate the feeling of the latex gloves on your bare skin; hate the squeaking sound they make when they rub against something, hate the cloying scent of them that lingers wherever Overhaul goes.

The fingers wrapped around the back of your neck dig in, too. He’s pressing too hard, restricting too much airflow – you try and take a hurried breath of air, but nothing can get through the blockage. Your lips suddenly feel very numb. Panic is flooding your senses, as well as a vague sense of . . . nothing.

If Overhaul chokes you out right now, and keeps going until you’re limp and your heart stops beating, nobody will do anything. Nobody will care. The thought is strangely comforting.

He releases the pressure, turning away in distaste as you let out a series of distressed little coughs. You manage to get your wrist in front of your mouth before you cough everywhere, but an antiseptic wipe is still pressed into your other hand forcefully before you’ve even stopped choking.

“What do you say?” He asks you, as he turns back to the medical trolley as if he didn’t just come seconds away from killing you. His gloved hand brushes various silvery medical tools, not all of which you recognise, and your heart misses a beat in fear at the sight of the surgical blades. He ignores those ones, thankfully, instead settling on a syringe.

You’re not sure what’s in this one, but you don’t ask. He’ll tell you as he does it; you no longer know how truthful he is, but it’s not like it matters.

“I’m sorry, Sir,” you manage, through the hazy mess that is your poor oxygen-deprived brain. “I-I’ll t-take whatever you tell me to take.”

“I do it for your own good,” he tells you, tapping the syringe with one gloved finger. He looks at it with that same bored, unreadable expression. You wonder if you could tell what he was thinking better if he didn’t wear the mask. “I just don’t want you to be sick.”

He stresses the word. He is always talking about how filthy and ill and diseased the rest of the world is. You swallow again. You should be grateful. You should. Should be grateful that, for all he tells you is wrong with you and plies you with medicines and drugs and vitamins, he doesn’t think you’re sick enough to just outright disassemble you and put you back together.

You hold your arm out, hoping your compliance will make some of his anger at your outburst fade. His eyes linger on the pinprick bruises of your inner elbow, the side he usually injects.

“Just a painkiller,” he says to you, but you don’t believe him.

He doesn’t give you a warning the way nurses used to when you had to be injected as a child. The needle presses into your skin immediately, almost too deep, and you’re immeasurably glad that Overhaul doesn’t see the flinch on your face because he’s too busy watching the liquid be injected directly into your bloodstream.

Needle out. Gauze. Medical tape. He is practised, clinical, careful as he bandages the site of the injection.

(It’ll kick in in about fifteen minutes, he thinks. By then, you’ll have your back flat and your feet in stirrups and you won’t say anything as he presses three gloved fingers inside of you. All you’ll do is let your breath catch, your hips jerk, your eyes hazy and unfocused as the tranquiliser works its magic.)

An alarm sounds from the device wrapped around your wrist.

“Ah,” he says. “I’ll give you the new vitamin now, then. Just a moment.”

He strides over to the other side of the room and you are well-trained enough to not let your eyes follow him, as perfectly organised cupboards are opened and the rattle of pills echoes in your ears.

You turn the bracelet around your wrist off. It’ll beep again once more, later on, for your third lot of medications. Once in the morning, to both wake you up and to tell you to take your first cocktail of pills. Overhaul never usually sees you until the afternoon unless he wants to check on something, but that doesn’t mean he’ll let you rot in bed hating your life all day.

(You are permitted some books, some hobbies that Overhaul does not think will be damaging to your poor health and that don’t make a mess. There is a half-finished embroidery in your desk drawer, a jigsaw puzzle you must have done twenty times spread out over the desk proper, origami animals in a neat line on your bedside table.)

The second alarm goes off at five fifteen. You are supposed to be in this room – you always consider it the surgery room, though it’s more of an examination room than anything else. You’re not permitted to wander the upstairs of the base at your leisure, much less the cavernous underground hallways, so you often wonder what else Overhaul is hiding down here. Overhaul gives you these drugs himself; sometimes this particular cocktail features some new tablet that you’ve never taken before. He watches you take them with the eyes of a hawk, checking underneath your tongue to make sure you’ve swallowed them all.

And the last lot are taken before you go to bed (half nine in the evening, always. Overhaul says a routine for you is integral to keeping you well).

He’s back. One small cup full of rattling pills and medication is given to you, and a half glass full of purified water from the water filter jug in the refrigerator.

He watches you tip the small cup back, watches the bob of your throat as you trustingly swallow them.

You don’t bother looking inside of it before you do this; you probably won’t recognise half of what it is, anyway. You’re going to take them no matter what, so you have decided perhaps it’s better the devil you do not know.

A gulp of cold water, too loud. You’re given a tissue to wipe your mouth.

You’re suddenly getting very tired. Your arms feel very heavy, your mouth dry, your head stuffed with cotton wool. You blink so slowly you feel like you’re wading through a marsh.

“Mouth open,” he’s saying, again, and you do it so he can check you’ve taken the medication, but it sounds and feels like he’s very far away. If you spoke aloud right now, you feel certain that your words would come out slurred and unrecognisable. “Good.”

Your brain attaches itself to the phrase. He so rarely praises you. You feel your mouth pull at the corners, your smile somnolent and pliant. You cannot see the way Overhaul smirks at your expression underneath his mask, but you can see the pleased light reflecting in his eyes.

“Last examination,” he tells you, brusquely. “Lean back. Feet up. You know what to do, don’t you?”

You do! You’ve done this one a hundred times. A soft giggle escapes from your lips as you swing your legs slowly onto the table and the back is readjusted by Overhaul’s own steady hands to make you comfortable. It is comfortable, despite the cold, sticky leather. You miss the stirrup the first time, and you hear Overhaul click his tongue as you’re forcibly pushed into them. It’s not your fault. You always feel drowsy after taking your medicine, but today is even worse than usual--

“Just relax,” he tells you. Latex-covered fingers rest on your outer thighs, pushing the thin medical gown up so that the hem is ruched up around your waist. “Close your eyes. This will be cold--”

You close your eyes and let out a soft sigh as slick, cold fingers (you suppose that he lubricated them, and you’re grateful – he’s not always so kind) gently prod at the space between your legs.

You could fall asleep, right here, you think – which is absurd. You shouldn’t be feeling so heavy and tired and comfortable whilst your . . . you never have quite the right words to describe what Overhaul is to you, but the fact remains that you shouldn’t be so trusting and naive as to fall asleep here with fingers that have killed probing your slit.

You can hear a clock ticking as if it’s somewhere very far away. You can hear Overhaul’s meticulous, even breathing – like even that has to be perfectly in time, perfectly meted out. You can feel your own erratic heartbeat, like a bird trapped in your chest.

You shouldn’t fall asleep, you shouldn’t fall asleep--

You watch fireworks and swirls and patterns on the inside of your eyelids like you’re at a festival; the kind you are no longer allowed to attend, lest somebody’s sickness rub off on you. Watching your own in your mind seems like the next best thing.

You drop into oblivion.

#overhaul x reader #yandere overhaul #overhaul smut #bnha x reader #mha x reader #yandere bnha #chisaki kai x reader #not sfw text #yandere for ts #writing #overhaul x you #medical kink #glove kink #mindbreak for ts #drugging for ts #non con for ts #dub con for ts #bnha posting

729 notes · View notes

writefightandflightclub · 3 years

Note

Luna, help me feel better with hcs of Oscar characters (of your choosing) taking care of you when you’re sick. 🙏

I got you, babe! 😆 I hope you are better soon! 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡

Made sure to do your faves (Nathan, Duke, Poe); a Santi (hoping to convince you on him); and added a bonus Llewyn for good measure because I thought of a cute thing.

I didn’t follow the corona quarantine thing exactly, so they’re more general reader being cared for, but I hope you like these!

Take care of yourself, Danny, or I’ll have to send an Oscar (or several) to do it for you!! 👀 (Take your pick from the list below, I guess!)

(Santi gets a little NSFW so don’t read this unless you’re OVER 18+ peeps!)

Nathan: you’d think he’d be rational, right? However, Nathan has spent many an hour contemplating the complexity and fragility of the human body; thus, he is somewhat inclined to over-react when you’re sick, tipping over from concern into worry and plummeting quickly into blind panic. You’d never know that, however. This manifests (as most of his emotions do, to be fair) as sternness and sass, and at times you think he’s preparing to evict you from out of the complex, or something, with how pissed-off he looks. However, you know him well enough to realise that can’t be the truth of things. Not when he’s so... meticulous in his care of you. Whilst he’s not great with the emotional offer, true, his medical care is basically hospital grade. Within two hours of your symptoms developing, he has every possible medicine and piece of equipment to hand, has thoroughly researched the scientific literature and drawn-up summaries, and has video-called every world-leading doctor and researcher he could get his hands on to thrash out the data contradictions. He has Kyoko take your blood pressure and temperature and oxygen levels hourly (or he would have, until you haggle him down!) and he even has a live feed of the stats in the corner of his monitor. He measures your fluid consumption and medicine doses out personally, to the millimetre (and has the machine check again so there’s no room for human or robot error). And, with all this attention he’s paying you - to make sure you don’t catch on that he’s secretly sweet, actually- he makes sure to supplement all this with a healthy dose of sarcasm, sass and scolding. Typical Nathan. 🙄 He knows you’re starting to feel better though, when you finally begin to sass him back again (god he missed that, so much). With the first utterly devastating retort you slap on him, he doesn’t even realise how much of a giveaway it is when all the muscles in his body visibly relax, and when his perma-scowl dissolves instantly from his face. He’s even too happy and relieved to sass you back, and - well, there’s a first time for everything. Fuck. He really must love you. After a while, too, Nathan’s finally convinced to fulfil some of your non-medical needs. He outright refuses to smooch you (it’s science), but he will mask-up and cuddle you in bed. It’s sorta funny to see the man who professes to be a god so squicky about germs, but also kinda sweet when you hear why he doesn’t want to get sick: “how can I take care of you if I’m sick too, idiot?”. Okay, so he said it in a mean way - typical Nathan fashion - but you can’t deny that the sentiment is entirely adorable (and nor can he, even if he does try).

Poe: this man is one of the most dedicated caregivers you could have - even if he is a little melodramatic with it. You’re sniffling? Everything has to be dropped right away - all bets are off. The mission briefing is cancelled, he abuses his commander privileges to have you jump the queue in the med bay (“Poe, I think that recruit with the blaster wound should probably go in ahead of me-“) and everybody on base hears (incessantly) about how you are his top priority (as if they didn’t hear enough about that already!). While you insist you can keep working -there’s a war after all- Poe wouldn’t dream of having you lift a finger. The Resistance may be everything to Poe, but you are everything and then some. Unfortunately, on the downside, he’s inevitably going to get sick himself, mind you - because that man cannot resist kissing you and holding you for any length of time. When he does fall ill, you find that whilst he’s an amazing caregiver, he’s a terrible patient. You’ve never seen someone be so dramatic about sniffles, and then have the cheek to so stubbornly resist when you try to assign him bed rest. Still, you wouldn’t have him any other way. He turns everything up to 11, including his love for you. You’d never turn him down.

Leto: the Duke is too important to be sick. So, whilst you are waited on hand and foot, it is not by him personally, his aides and advisors making sure to keep you at opposite ends of the palace so you can’t compromise his Lordship. You don’t like it, of course, but needs-must. Gladly, you know that you are never far from the Duke’s thoughts, even as he engages in his important business; you can tell, since he sends you a succession of messages all throughout the day via palace courier. Some of the messages are sweet, the Duke professing his love for you; some highlight your capabilities - he wishes he could benefit from your counsel; and some (your favourite ones) make his staff positively seethe with embarrassment as they have to recite -out loud, verbatim- all the sexual things he intends to do with you when you are better (the Duke has zero shame in this department). You miss your Leto, terribly, but you know this has to be done - for the sake of Arrakis. However, during the night, amidst your fitful rest, a shaft of moonlight falls over the bed as the Duke gingerly cracks your door. A soft smile spreads over his face as he notices you are half-awake, and still a little worse for wear, tangled in damp sheets. Quietly, he pads to your side and peels back the covers. “Turn over, my angel.” He intends to slip in with you? “But, my darling Duke. Leto - you’ll get sick.” He is not deterred. The mattress dips under the weight of him and you turn over as he commanded. “So be it, little one.” A kiss to the back of your clammy neck, beard soft and springy and ticklish there. “I may get sick, darling, but without you in my arms I feel rotten. I know which plague it is that I favour.” He curls you into him and, wrapped against his chest, you drift off into a sound sleep. The soundest you’ve had since you were parted.

Richard: an angel. Sweet and soft-spoken so he doesn’t over-tire you when you’re feeling drained. Gentle, smooth caresses over your face and hair and your back to comfort you. The man is at your beck and call, even for the littlest thing, even in the middle of the night, and he’s not grumpy about it once. He knows well enough that you deserve the world and more. If he has to go to work, you can be damn sure he’s left you food in the fridge, and a chilled, homemade smoothie “so you get all your vitamins, bonita.”. Besides this, when you dodder out of bed to seek out this sustenance, you find a collection of sweet little post-it notes all over the house, littering every surface he thinks you are likely to encounter. You find these little tokens everywhere, reminding you to drink plenty of fluids and take your meds, but also reminding you how pretty you are (you appreciated that one on the bathroom mirror especially, as you greeted your reflection looking a little worse for wear), and how much he adores you. When he comes home, he’ll satisfy every need of yours all over again, and then he’ll curl you into his chest in bed, gently stroking you, talking to you softly about his day, reading you a chapter of your book aloud, and gently soothing you and amusing you in his typical Richard-y way. In fact, this sweet man has you feeling better already. You don’t know how you can feel sick and on top of the world at the same time, but he makes it so.

Santi: Santi is a man of action, solutions; so, safe to say, he doesn’t deal well when you’re sick and he can’t do a damn thing to make you feel better. He feels particularly awful that he can’t skip out on work either, since his security company is taking off right now. Still, as you stretch out on the couch, wallowing in tissues and contemplating a day of utter boredom, you are surprised to hear a key twist in the lock, Frankie announcing himself. “What are you doing here, ‘Fish?” you ask, as he sidles into you living space. “I have my instructions,” he mumbles mysteriously. And so, it proceeds like this for the rest of the day, Santi having mobilised his assets -the boys- to take care of you even if he can’t do it directly. It happens with a military precision, perfectly befitting your love, and Will is next through the door at thirteen hundred hours, relieving Frankie from his shift, and brandishing noodle soup. Benny is next at fourteen hundred, appearing to play card games that he barely has the attention span for, and to replenish your meds. The final man through the door though is your man, clutching your fave take-out in his hand. When you say you’re not hungry just yet, he stashes it for later and lowers himself to the couch, seamlessly bringing your head into his lap. You curl your body around him as he places his palm to your forehead, cheeks, neck in turn to feel for your temperature. “I’m staying home tomorrow, mi Reina. Sorted it with one of the guys. Felt like a shit all day ‘cause I couldn’t do anything for you.” You think fondly of the procession of helpers he organised for you. “Santi, you did plenty.” He grunts. “Well, whatever. Tomorrow I’m keeping you company. Movies, spa day, sexual favours - whatever you want. I’m all yours.” You reach you to caress his cheek, softly smiling. He is yours - and you are endlessly grateful for that fact. (Bonus: you are later grateful to learn that he was not kidding about the sexual favours. As soon as you are feeling up to it, he spends hours with his head between your legs, making you feel good. As well, his firm and no nonsense approach to giving you care gives you some... ideas 👀 Once you’re feeling a little better again, of course, this dynamic may even transform into a light bit of kinky role play, with Santi, ahem, convincing you to take your medicine, in the best way possible 😳.)

Llewyn: this grumpy angel comes home to find you nearly passed out on the very couch he has arrived to crash on. You’re bundled in knitted blankets and surrounded by scrunched up tissues. “Sorry, Llewyn-d. The couch is out of action-d.” He takes one long look at you and sighs, before turning on his heel and leaving your apartment without a word, the door rattling closed behind him. Your eyes well-up as you contemplate that, maybe, you really don’t represent anything but a warm place to sleep for him. However, after a few moments of dismay, you register that his guitar and his bags have been plonked down on your floor. He’s... coming back? No way he’d abandon his Gibson. In a few moments, he returns, sheepishly plonking himself on the arm of your couch. You look at him in confusion through your bleary eyes, and he hands you a steaming carton of noodle soup. “It’s only half full - I was a few dimes short,” he says apologetically, helping you sit up and guide the steaming broth to your lips. You think the man must have spent his last dollar on you, and you are absolutely floored. “But - if you need something more later I can make it for you.” “Llewyn-d,” you gush gratefully, through sniffles. “Thank you. You didn’t have-d to do that.” “Yeah. Well. You always take care of me.” You think you feel better already from the warmth of the soup and the warmth of him, especially as he collects up his guitar and settles on the floor by your feet, beginning to sing you soft, lulling melodies until you almost forget you’re feeling sick at all. You fall asleep to the sound of his voice, and wake up to his arms wound around your feet as he gently snores, head resting on top of your leg. You guess he did sort of get to crash on your couch after all - though he really should have had the sense to take the bed. Maybe when you get better, you can extend the invitation.

P.s. Oh heck, I’m a silly Brit and I don’t understand the US dollar and how much noodle soup costs and what dimes are. Forgive me.

#Nathan Bateman x reader #Poe Dameron x reader #Duke Leto Atreides x reader #santiago pope garcia x reader #richard alonso muñoz x reader #Llewyn Davis x reader #Oscar Isaac #daddy apocalypse x reader #headcanons

176 notes · View notes

allmightluver · 5 years

Text

All Might’s Mental Health is Declining

Toshinori Yagi wanted to be a hero, wanted to help people ever since he was a boy

and with Nana’s help, the quirkless kid got his wish.

But being a hero isn’t for the weak of heart. You’re going to fail. People are going to be hurt. And ultimately, you’ll be alone. Toshinori had to learn this quickly in his life as Nana, his mother figure, died for him at an early age.

The other person in his life, Gran Torino, trained him to the best of his abilities, but was a no nonsense, brutal teacher.

His methods were effective, but scarring, as Toshinori has been terrified of him ever sense.

He was sent to America on his own to develop his quirk, where he eventually learned to become a hero. But again, that meant work was his life, and he had no social life. Sure he was popular with the media, but as far as developing a lot of personal relationships, he wouldn’t have time for them. Plus, as typical of a hero, in order to keep everyone safe, All Might couldn’t be seen with people he was close to. He most likely kept himself busy the majority of the time to keep from being lost in his own thoughts. People need companions, it’s part of our make up. Toshinori’s surely had to have been a very lonely life.

And then All for One happened. And defeating him almost killed Toshinori, in fact, there’s no good reason he’s still alive, other than to pass on One For All, he should be dead. *Warning graphic details following*

All for One said himself (English Translation), “A wounded hero is a most frightening animal. Do you know that even now, I sometimes dream of you charging at me with your entrails strewn across the ground.” His entrails. His internal organs. All Might was gravely wounded, yet he still forced himself to fight All For One, even while the hole in his side freely leaked his own body’s contents. In the picture above, All Might kneels above All For One’s lifeless body in a pool of blood, a mixture of both their blood. AFO’s head crushed.

I cannot stress enough the mental impact of this singular event. All Might stood for absolutely NO killing. He would resolve conflict while being careful NOT to kill or even critically hurt anyone. But in this instance, Toshinori killed a man. And the way he did, crushing a man’s head with his bare hands until the skull gave way and his brains were scattered on the pavement below. For someone who believes in no killing, this was a brutal execution. One that, unfortunately, had to happen for the safety of the world, and only All Might was capable of doing it.

This alone must have severely messed with his head. While he lay in hospital, only capable of healing, AFO haunted his dreams and thoughts. He took another life, blood permanently staining his hands. And now he has to mentally pretend this never happened and act as if everything is fine to the public who hadn’t heard of this fight.

Despite the mental trauma from this, the physical trauma was worse. While he could fake the emotional lasting effects, he couldn’t hide the physical.

This injury took a lot more of him than just his mental stability. It took his stomach, a lung, most likely his spleen, and perhaps more internal organs. Living like this now means lots of medications. Supplements to make up for the lack of stomach, drugs to protect against infection, and pain medication to list a few. Something that big has to hurt like crazy. And all that scar tissue pulling while you try to fight? Torture. He’s most likely had countless corrective surgeries from the scar tissue alone, which only reopens the wound and leaves less and less skin to work with. You can see how caved in the scar is, indicating just how much of his body is missing. His destroyed respiratory system forces blood to fill the remaining lung he has left when he overexerts himself, which is all the time. He probably has to have blood tranfusions regularly to make up for the loss, as well as other injections to assist his body in running properly. There’s probably an oxygen tank by his bedside to help when he’s choking on his own blood in the middle of the night. His body wasting away until his very skin stretches like plastic wrap over nothing but bones. Muscles being eaten away in replacement of food.

But what sucks the most? The time he can be All Might is decreasing more every day. The one thing he’s wanted his whole life, to help people, is starting to become difficult to do. He has to hide his true form from the public, he doesn’t want them to fear for their lives if he can’t help anymore. Now he spends more and more time in his own mind because he can’t distract himself anymore. And what’s worse than the mental pain is the physical accompanying it.

Now BESIDES all this happening, we also have Nighteye’s betrayal. Sir, the man who was his sidekick for years, the guy he’s probably been able to grow the closest to, betrays All Might’s trust and looks into his future. And what does he see?

In six to seven years, Toshinori will meet a villain, and meet a gruesome demise. The betrayal makes him and Nighteye go separate ways, losing a friend.

Now with his declining health and the death sentence hanging over his head, Toshinori has to think about what he hoped he wouldn’t for years yet. He needs a successor. Someone to give this power to before it’s too late.

Insert Izuku.

A young, quirkless boy who just wants to help people. Sounds familiar. Izuku is an obvious choice despite everyone telling Toshinori he’s not the right fit. (Like Nighteye whom Toshinori tried to tell, but was only shot down.) So once he hands over One for All to Izuku, the problem, despite the boy destroying himself as he tries to use it and Toshinori being unsure how to help him, is that his power is decreasing even faster now. Which, of course, is to be expected, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy to deal with. His time limit is drawn shorter and shorter until All for One starts to make a reappearance.

So not only did Toshinori not kill him, all the trauma he went through was for nothing, but now the world is in danger, again. And he doesn’t know if he can help them. Which means he has to involve his young ward in this mess that killed his mentor, almost killed him, and could potentially kill the boy as well.

So he tells Izuku of the origin of One for All and All for One. But he doesn’t tell the boy that by the time Izuku fights this guy, Toshinori won’t be around anymore.

He doesn’t let on how much the power is draining out of his body, and doesn’t enlighten the boy on his own upcoming death. Which unfortunately means he has to lie and give Izuku a false sense of security.

And then, All for One shows up.

And this time, All Might’s true form is exposed to the public. His weakness. Now the world knows that All Might isn’t invincible. Despite this, he’s still able to force his broken and exhausted body to beat All for One again, while using up the last of One for All, and leaving it up to Izuku.

Now he’s that quirkless boy who wants to help people again, only this time, he can’t.

Now he can’t be a hero, the one thing that’s kept him going all these years. And people on the street who don’t recognize him right away, criticize how he looks, which again, is out of his control. So he continues to hide himself in shame.

Gran Torino has told him he’s not being a proper mentor to Izuku, but the boy is already surpassing him with his schooling from other teachers. So, without heroing and mentoring, all Toshinori has left is being a teacher.

And unfortunately, Eraserhead has told him he’s also mediocre at that as well.

Then Izuku meets Sir Nighteye, and questions Toshinori about their relationship, while also questioning his own successor-ship.

Which leads to a very emotional scene of Toshinori telling Izuku exactly what happened all those years ago, as well as his death sentence that, oh by the way, is coming either this year or the next.

Toshinori is fairly emotionless while explaining this to the boy, I imagine he’s fairly disconnected with his own emotions by this point.

But seeing how upset Izuku was is enough to make him try and console the other that he won’t simply roll over and die, that he’ll go down fighting.

And THEN, he gets word that Sir Nighteye is in grave condition and most likely won’t make it through the night. Even after their falling out, Toshinori goes to his friend’s side, and the resemblance is scary.

Now he can see why Nighteye looked into his future, to see if Toshi had any chance on living. Being put in this position, he can understand. You can even hear Toshinori’s voice break (Japanese version) when he tells Sir that he needs to stay alive to allow Toshi to repent for his sins. But Nighteye can’t stay. And when facing the man who’s always been known for his smile, who can’t do it anymore, Sir says to him: “Smile. Live on, Toshinori.”

But for what?

The most recent episodes have a relatively emotionless Toshinori.

Like in today’s episode, the best he can give Izuku is a small smile, barely anything. He doesn’t even emote when he catches Hatsume’s stray baby.

He clearly still has the reflexes of a hero, but he can’t physically be one anymore. His health is too fragile. *Manga spoilers ahead*

Then there’s this scene with Aizawa.

He had long since accepted his own death, maybe even longed for it. But Izuku made him decide to try and live, even though he’s not sure how to anymore.

This poor man has been through Hell. And now he feels useless and helpless. Thank God he finally said something to Aizawa, but he needs more than just this, he needs to have a purpose again. I hope Aizawa and the others can help him find it again.

#toshinori yagi #all might #my hero academia #mha #manga spoilers #gore #depression #toshinori yagi has depression #mental illness #boku no hero academia #bnha #Yagi Toshinori #meta

5K notes · View notes

jade4813 · 3 years

Text

My baby and I are finally home!

It was a rough few days. I went in for induction as scheduled, but the very first (very minor) contractions put her into distress. Her heart rate kept dropping (and going back up after a minute or so) all through the night, so we decided in the morning that we would do a c-section since there was a concern that stronger contractions would bring on additional distress and an emergency situation with her heart rate dropping and not going back to normal.

The c-section went as well as can be expected. I really can’t speak highly enough of the L&D staff at the hospital where my baby was delivered. They truly were the most comforting and supportive doctors and nurses that I could possibly have asked for. The anesthesiologist stayed by my side throughout the surgery and comforted me, checked how I was doing, and prepared me for what was coming next so I was as UNafraid as possible (which, granted, wasn’t much). Meanwhile, my husband was on the other side, holding my hand and letting me know we were in this together and it was gonna be okay.

My little Nugget was small, though. Much smaller than expected at 39 weeks. She had some breathing issues at first, but they seemed to her better. Until the evening, when they are worsened and she had to be taken to the NICU to be put on oxygen.

The next 24 hours were some of the hardest of my life, as they tried to determine if she just had some fluid on her lungs (easily treatable) or something like pneumonia. Or even something that would mean she would have to be transferred to another hospital to be put on a ventilator. That entire day, while I could go see her, I wasn’t able to hold her, and touching her was iffy because overstimulation could cause her breathing to become worse. Again, the doctors were amazing. But there is no amount of comfort that can make it hurt less to see your baby in pain and not be able to even hold her to comfort her.

I’m crying again just remembering.

Thankfully, she turned a corner the next day, and her health drastically improved. They were able to gradually wean her off oxygen over that day and the next and, thank heavens, I was even allowed to hold her again, which was so crucial to my emotional well-being by that point. I had a bit of a personal setback in healing from pushing myself too hard to get down to the NICU repeatedly in the middle of the night to be with her, but honestly, I didn’t (and don’t) care about the pain.

Eventually, the doctor said she could be released from the NICU but would continue to be monitored regularly by a nurse. Then, last night, the doctor said she felt comfortable discharging us from the hospital (though if we didn’t feel we were ready, she’d be happy to keep her in for another night with her in our room and nurses providing support). As nice as the support sounded (and was!), we really just wanted to bring her home. So we agreed to the discharge.

We got her home late last night and realized immediately that all the “newborn” size clothing we had - which we expected to fit when we were told she was almost 8 pounds - weren’t going to work for a baby that is only 5 pounds. To a “this would be dangerous for her to sleep in” degree. Which led to some late night hilarity as we rushed to every 24 hour store to find any preemie clothing we could.

She thanked us by keeping Mommy awake all night. (She kept Daddy awake too, but she would only calm down enough to rest when I held her and I eventually told my husband to go back to sleep since his paternity leave doesn’t kick in until Wednesday. So he had to get up for work at 4 am today.) She has to supplement breast milk with formula to try to get her weight up a little, and it’s a bit hard on her tiny little tummy.

We may have a bit of a road ahead of us. The doctor did want her to be seen by a pulmonologist to be on the safe side. The pediatrician wants to do a sleep study to make sure her breathing during sleep remains at safe levels. And there’s a CHANCE, depending how those tests/exams go, that she may need some surgery at some point.

But for now, she’s home and healthy and doing well. And if you think I’m letting her out of my arms to give her to anyone but daddy or to put her down to sleep safely at night (when sleep is a thing she does) for the next few months, you are kidding yourselves.

I love this little girl so much.

#my baby

34 notes · View notes

tails89 · 3 years

Text

Breathless

Buddie - G - 800w

Read on AO3

Eddie helps Buck shuffle from the car into the house. He’s still pale-- too pale, but it’s nothing like the sickly grey he’d been just a few days ago. Now at least there’s a little colour back in his cheeks.

“Couch or bed?” Eddie asks as they get inside.

“Couch,” Buck instists, reaching out to grab the armrest and ease himself down. “I want to stay out here.” His voice is still so rough, and there’s a breathlessness to it that has Eddie on edge. If it had been up to him, Buck would still be in hospital, but once his fever had broken and he was no longer on supplemental oxygen, his doctor had been satisfied they could manage at home. He’s under strict instructions to rest though, and Eddie intends to make sure he follows them.

“You sure? You’ll sleep better in bed.”

“I’ve done nothing but sleep the last few days,” Buck complains, coughing weakly into his elbow, before reaching for a tissue to spit out the gunk his lungs are still producing.

“Because you’ve been really sick,” Eddie reminds him, his mind flashing back to finding Buck in his apartment, unconscious and burning with fever. By the time paramedics had arrived he’d barely been breathing, his lungs filling up with fluid from the pneumonia he’d been fighting unawares.

Eddie drops Buck’s bag by the coffee table and digs out the paper bag with his antibiotics, setting them on the table.

“How about this,” he suggests, “we’ll set the couch up with blankets and I’ll grab some pillows, but you’ve got to stay there. No getting up for the kitchen or because you’re bored or whatever. You’re on strict bed rest.”

“What if I need the bathroom?” Buck asks, some of his usual cheeky humour returning.

“You call me and I’ll help you.”

“Fine.” Buck’s head tips back against the couch cushions, his eyes drifting shut. Eddie imagines he must be exhausted, all his energy used up changing into a clean pair of clothes at the hospital plus the trip home.

“You can’t sleep like that,” Eddie says, nudging Buck gently. “Do you think you can manage your shoes while I grab some things from the bedroom?”

Buck’s eyes blink open and he stares down at his feet for a moment before bending to reach for them with a wheezy sigh. “Mm, I got it.” He glances up when Eddie makes no move to leave the room. “I promise you I can handle this.”

He doesn’t sound annoyed which is a relief. Eddie knows he’s hovering but he can’t help it. God, Buck could have died, all alone in his apartment. He would have if Eddie hadn’t decided to go check in on him. He almost hadn’t. Buck had been okay the day before, sick and miserable maybe, but not hospital grade sick but then he’d gone downhill so quick.

Eddie forces himself to walk away, heading down the hall to his bedroom to grab the pillows Buck uses when he stays over. On his way back he pulls the spare quilt from the hall closet and carries it all out to the living room.

Buck has kicked his shoes off and pulled his long legs up onto the couch. He’s too tall to stretch out properly so he lies with his knees bent, toes pressed up against the opposite armrest. Eddie drops the quilt on top of him, startling a soft laugh out of Buck which quickly dissolves into another wet cough.

Eddie grimaces at the sound. “Jesus, you sound awful.” He hands over the pillows and fixes the quilt. “Hen said we should wrap you up in cotton wool and never let you outside again, and I’m inclined to agree with her.” He nudges Buck’s legs and sits on the end of the couch before resettling Buck’s feet in his lap.

“All my favourite things are outside,” Buck mumbles, shifting to get comfortable.

Patting one of the feet in his lap, Eddie says, “I know. It’s too bad really.”

Buck sticks his tongue out at him and it’s good to see him so animated, even if he looks like he’s seconds from falling asleep.

“I’m going to put a movie on, any preferences?” Eddie asks, leaning forward to grab the remote.

“Whatever’s fine,” Buck replies, picking at the bandaid on the back of his hand. “I don’t think I’ll be awake long enough to enjoy it.”

Sure enough, by the time the opening credits have finished rolling Buck is fast asleep. Eddie turns the volume down a little so it won’t disturb him, kicks his feet up onto the coffee table and finally lets out the breath he’s been holding for the last three days.

#911 fox #buddie #evan buckley x eddie diaz #evan buck buckley #eddie diaz #buddie fanfic #my911fanfic

51 notes · View notes

shelf-care · 4 years

Text

Obsession

Part 4 of the lipstick mark series.

This really isn’t an X OC for creed, but this part is entirely about him and his character and how they had met kinda. I’m saving that for down the line.

Warnings: Creed being Creed.

Everything in life starts with your mindset. It reveals something about who you are and what you do. Is it the way you look at the problems of the world, or the way you want to see the universe around you? Who knows, the world is screwed. Nothing can even start to explain how bad things can get. Maybe that explains the way I am.

Victor Creed (Weapon X Journal log 1996)

“Tell me what she’s been doing.” The claw on his right hand ran down the interns face, cutting his flesh open in the thinest line, trailing from his eye, over the bridge of his nose, and then down to his lips. The young man couldn’t be more than twenty two at the most. A Harvard graduate, top of his class in genetic theory and chemistry. The man swallowed, “I can’t give you that information sir. I don’t have the clearance level.” He gasped as Creed released him from his grip, only because he didn’t want to get another strike on his record, to which he had six. “Tell me who does.” Yellow eyes watch his every move, a lion seeking to devour his prey in an instant if he made any sudden moves. “Doctor Striker. He’s the director of Project Trojan horse. He specifically chose Agent Hope for the operation.” The man scoffed, watching a long and thick track of blood slowly pulling down from the cut he’d left on the kids face. “Strikers back.” He smiled. “Missed that sick bastard.” He wiped his claws clean on his coat, then opened the door to leave. “Thanks kid, you were a big help. Make sure to change those pant’s o’ yours.” He chuckled with his white teeth piercing the dim room, his back turning to leave the kid alone and utterly terrified.

With every step Victor couldn’t decide wether or not to be giddy or to curb his excitement out of premature celebration. She was his, had been that way for the last few years. A few months didn’t change that. She was like his light in the dark, his morning star. Why did she not see what she was to him? He’d only felt this one other time before. A burning, and ache for the things that were real. She was the last of the real breed. The type of people who would do anything to save the world. Him? He’d sacrifice the world in a heart beat for her. He’d do annoying to hold her in his arms as they laid contemplating life as they stared at the ceiling. He missed the way she smelled after a night in the rain, running his claws through her thick curls. He scoffed to himself. He became soft, his obsession drove him mad, but it was the best kind. It was like a hunt that would never let him go. The excitement, the raw adrenaline he’d always loved as young man. As his boots connected with the grated floor he heard muffled voices discussing a recent development on “Hopes” mission. Creed was more than curious, he wanted to know what was so important. Tapping in his verification code, the door slid open to the side. Stepping in all the doctors in the room became like a funeral parlor. Dead eyes staring at him all the while folding his arms with a grin on his face. “No continue Doctor Striker.” He gave the man at the table the floor. “I don’t think thats wise Creed. Considering that the topic is about your Former commander, not to mention Ex lover of sorts and her current conditions.” He scoffed again. “She’s still my girl.” He said as a joke but with the hidden agenda of something Striker couldn’t place, but at the same time he’d known what Victor was planning. “Its inappropriate, and is currently on a top level clearance need to know basis.” Creeds steps thundered across the room, every step a low roll of a storm threatening those around it. “Then by all means Doctor, remove me.” He sat down at the table, legs placed on top of the table with research papers under his boots. Picking one up and placing over he saw lots of long wards that he couldn’t be bothered to try and decipher. “The way I see it. Theres something you don’t want me knowing about because she’s become more than just an operative and sleeper agent.” He lent forward, his hair curtaining most of his face. Striker removed his glasses, giving them a rub with a cleaning cloth, then pushed them up the bridge of his nose as he was finished. “You’re not as idiotic as you look.” He commented. Creed chuckled in a rather dark tone. “You’d be surprised on what goes on in here.” He motioned with his rather large index claw to his temple. Creed stood up again, towering over the sitting Striker. Without even looking below, Victor snatched up the latest report from the physical they had run just earlier that day on an “Agent Hope.” As he flipped through the report, there were pictures of her. Her face, physical features that looked foreign to him even if they had been intimate many times before. “He glanced down at a picture that he was even more unfamiliar to him. An almost entirely black photograph, dates were written in the corners, the time, subject, and then the being. “Fetus X.” Was the name they had given the photo. “Fetus X?” He threw the file back n the table. This time the cool demeanor of Striker fading away. “I told you this was the concern of our department and the state of Toronto. Creeds hand wrapped itself around Strikers weasel like neck. Living him off the floor and over Victors head, he could hear the oxygen leave the room as the other scientists and Doctors watched on in horror and stuck to their seats, too afraid to leave. “You knocked her up? And you didn’t even have the damn decency to let me know? You’re turning her into a damn Petri dish!” He squeezed hard enough to make Striker jump, and as a result make his glasses fall and hit the floor. “We supplemented her Birth control, we needed this to happen.” He explained. “Keep going.” The threat became even more real as Creeds claws started to draw blood. “Weapon X, is the biological father. We needed his DNA, we need to know w-what makes his mutation so lethal.” After hearing this he threw The man into the nearest wall. HIs body hit the ground like a stack of bricks hit concrete. Victor said nothing as he started to leave the room. As he rubbed his neck, Striker regained his confidence. “If it changes anything, she wants this child.” Creeds stare was the coldest and murderous you could ever imagine seeing. The yellow orange eyes of his filled with such anger it could rival that of a volcanos lava that had just reached the surface.

“You better pray that I don’t find her first.”

#victor creed x oc #wolverine x oc #wolverine x reader #victor creed x reader #X-men OC #X-MEN FANFIC #X-men #marvel #marvel x reader #sabertooth x reader #logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #avengers #Weapon X

72 notes · View notes

lailyn · 3 years

Text

This Magical Journey Called Multiple (Chapter 2)

“Now will you let me take your blood?”

“Nothing I say will stop you." With a resigned sigh, Loki slowly straightened his arm in consent. "If it must be done."

The incessant complaining continued, regardless. “Know that I hate this.”

“Duly noted, my dear," Stephen murmured. "You're such a great patient."

“Don’t sound so disappointed.”

“For someone so fond of knives, you sure are critical about needles.” Stephen found a juicy vein in the bend of Loki’s elbow, and pressed the tip of his syringe at the plumpest point. “Sharp prick.”

The tension in Loki's muscles did not let up even after Stephen had removed the needle.

Handing the blood sample to one of Tony’s robots to be processed, he gently patted Loki’s arm where the needle mark was already fading as Stephen watched. "You can relax now. It's done."

Loki mustered a half-smile but something was still amiss.

Stephen narrowed his eyes. "Is your stomach hurting again?"

"Some," Loki admitted reluctantly. "It's not that bad."

"I call bullshit," Tony said darkly. "We practically had to carry you."

"Half-carry," Loki corrected, raising his head off his tiny pillow to glare at Tony, who had been standing silently in the far corner of the room ever since they returned from the farmers market. "If you hadn't freaked out and given me a moment like I asked instead of crying to Stephen, I would have recovered in time."

But before Tony could counter-argue, Loki proved himself wrong when the pain returned in full force, cleaving him in two and leaving him panting for breath.

That was the last straw. Tony stepped out of the shadows and grabbed the hand grasping the side of the bed in a white-knuckled grip. “Bambi.”

Stephen watched the beads of sweat form on Loki's forehead. "Pain scale of one to ten, where are you at?”

Loki shook his head in denial.

“Stephen, he’s not talking. Why isn’t he talking?”

“He’s trying to think of a number to throw us off.”

With a feverish roll of his eyes, Loki held up his right thumb and first two fingers.

Tony allowed himself to relax slightly. “A three. That’s not so bad, right?”

“It’s a seven,” Stephen said flatly.

“Huh?”

“That’s finger abacus, the thumb represents a five,” Stephen glowered. “Thinks he’s smarter than us.”

Loki dropped his finger gun. “Sod off,” he muttered.

“Now is not the time to be difficult, Loki,” Stephen growled. "Did you take any hits in the battle that you failed to mention?"

“No,” Loki grunted. "I had my shield up the whole time. This is new."

But Stephen was already pulling the ultrasound machine closer. "Can't hurt to take a look. Occult internal bleeding can happen long after the initial trauma, doctors miss it all the time."

"How reassuring." Loki squirmed as he tried to find the most comfortable position. The ice-cold gel Stephen was liberally squirting all over his tense abdomen did not help matters.

"Try to hold still."

Loki breathed deeply in and out of his nose, focusing on keeping the fidgeting to a minimum. As gentle as Stephen tried to be with maneuvering the transducer probe, every prod and push sent a fresh shard of pain lancing through his belly.

"Loki, lower your shield. I need to see if there’s free fluid in your abdominal cavity.”

"What? What are you talking about?" Loki asked.

“I can't see a thing." Stephen turned the monitor around so they both could see just what he meant. “Look.”

“It’s all black,” Tony said in rising horror. “Why the hell is it black? Are you liquidating inside? Is that what's happening?”

“Not if I can help it…” Stephen murmured distractedly, fingers flying over the knobs and dials but no amount of adjusting seemed to work. “And the word you're looking for is liquefying. Liquidating is what you do when your stock price falls and you start selling your yachts.”

Tony placed his hands on his hips. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?”

Stephen ignored him, focusing on the quieter of his two husbands, which was a great worry in itself. “I can’t see the inside of your body, you’re not letting me.”

"It's not me. I'm not doing anything," Loki said, sounding more breathless than Stephen would like.

Tony must have thought the same. He turned the knob controlling the supplemental oxygen supply on the wall and cajoled Loki into wearing the nasal cannula. Unsurprisingly, he succeeded. It was something Tony would always be better at doing than Stephen, getting Loki to do stuff he did not want to do, and Stephen was forever grateful for it.

“Well, something’s blocking the sonic waves."

"Blocking?"

Stephen nodded, allowing himself a moment of relief. Loki seemed to be breathing a bit easier now.

"It’s like your abdomen’s made of solid rock,” he said, mind racing as he pondered their next move. “You need a CT scan. Is the blood test ready? I have to see if the kidney function’s okay if we’re thinking of giving you contrast.”

Tony typed away on the console for a few seconds. “Yeah. I’m bringing the results up right now.”

Stephen reluctantly left Loki’s side and joined Tony at the computer. “Let’s see…”

He scrolled down quickly before something caught his eye and he stopped. “Oh.”

“Oh?” Tony peered over Stephen’s shoulder. “What is it? What do you see?”

Stephen backed away from the monitor, looking spooked all of a sudden. “Maybe it’s not acoustic impedance at all...”

Tony frowned. The look on Stephen’s face was not sitting right with him at all. “What isn’t? If you don’t start sharing what you know, I swear I am going to kick your ass.”

“Maybe there’s nothing wrong with the ultrasound. Maybe something is cancelling it out.” Stephen turned around very, very slowly. “Loki. Is there any chance that you could be pregnant?”

“What?” Loki balked. “No!”

“Are you sure?” Stephen asked carefully. “It’s not like you have a discernible ovarian cycle to guide you.”

“I don’t need one,” Loki retorted, but the first glimmer of doubt crept into his voice. “What makes you think I am?”

“Your hCG level’s elevated," Stephen said.

When Loki stared at him blankly through eyes glazed with pain, Stephen figured he should elaborate.

“It’s a marker of pregnancy and testicular carcinoma, but the latter takes slightly longer to kill you and isn’t a concern for right now.”

“This is a nightmare.” Tony sank into a chair and buried his face into his hands. “A fucking nightmare.”

“Stop being so dramatic, Stark,” Loki scoffed. "Why can't it be the latter? I do have a sizable pair."

“To confirm that, we need another panel of special blood tests that I will definitely take from you later,” Stephen said, blatantly ignoring Loki's poor attempt at humor. “One thing at a time.”

"I am not pregnant. Don't you think I would know if I were?"

"It's a moot question, considering there is no precedent for the current situation."

"I have been pregnant before."

"Not by us humans."

There were many things about Stephen Loki found endearing, too many to count, but there was a smugness to his persona whenever his husband put on his doctor hat...not that it was any more authoritative than his usual self, but definitely a lot less tolerable. In things concerning magic, Loki was easily his equal if not superior. But now, struggling with this awful pain in his gut, he was at Stephen’s mercy.

Even so, Loki was not going to back down without a fight. “My contraceptive spells are infallible.”

“Spells can fail.”

Loki was out of the bed so fast he was a blur of shadow flying across the room toward them.

"Stephen - " Tony leaped forward.

Stephen fumbled as he tried to conjure a defence against whatever was coming, but before he knew it, Tony's fast reflexes kicked in and he caught Loki in mid-collapse, “Hey, easy, easy!”

As Tony lowered him to the floor, Loki buried his face as deeply as he could in Tony’s chest in the hope that it would stifle his scream, of pain and rage alike. "Did you do this?"

“What?” Tony strained to hear him amid the alarm blaring from the monitors from which Loki had extricated himself in his frenzy.

“Not you.” A green eye stared out accusingly from the crevice of their interlocking arms. “Him.”

Stephen's heart thundered in his chest. He knew when something was meant for Tony, and when it was meant for him. “I did not.”

Tony swivelled his head. “Stephen, what is he talking about?”

“There is only one being in this world powerful enough to counter my spells,” Loki spat. “Is this your doing?”

“I would never do that to you,” Stephen said heatedly. “How could you even think that?”

“Bambi,” Tony said anxiously when Loki’s form began trembling in his arms. “Bambi, calm down.”

Stephen braced himself once more against the onslaught of daggers or fists or magic but no threat of any kind came forth. He watched the light leave Loki’s eyes like a candle snuffed and heard Tony shout out a warning. “Loki!”

Stephen lunged to grab their listing husband and managed to save Loki’s head from hitting the floor, only just.

“Loki,” he called urgently. True fear gripped his heart when Loki remained motionless. “Help me, Tony.”

They wrestled with Loki’s long limbs and together, they carried him over to the bed.

“What the hell is going on?” Tony asked frantically. “Stephen?”

Stephen ignored him, focusing instead on reattaching the wires and cables that would connect Loki once more to the vital signs monitor. He did not speak until a blood pressure reading came back; it was borderline low but satisfactory for now, given the normal pulse rate and heart rhythm.

“He’s fine,” Stephen said gruffly. “He just passed out.”

Tony growled, “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

He picked up a limp hand and rubbed it furiously between his palms.

“He’s freezing. Why is he freezing? It’s like ninety-degrees in here,” he rambled, “And I don’t know if I heard you right the first time, feel free to correct me if I’m wrong, but I swear I heard you say Loki was pregnant.”

“I did.”

“Please tell me you’re joking,” Tony pleaded.

Stephen sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose. “Wish I could.”

“Are you sure?”

“I can’t be sure.” Stephen studied Loki’s wan face and the desire to just dip his astral fingers into his husband’s abdomen to take a look inside was overwhelming. He killed the thought before desperation could breathe it to life. “There’s one thing we haven’t tried. Another ultrasound.”

He met Tony’s eyes across the bed. “Transvaginally.”

“What are you waiting for?” Tony demanded.

Stephen bit the inside of his lip. “I don’t know how.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Tony’s voice shrilled. “You’re supposed to know everything!”

“About brains, not babies!” Stephen exploded. “I think I need to talk to Christine.”

Tony’s face changed. He pulled Stephen by the sleeve of his shirt to a corner, the farthest he could go while still keeping Loki in his line of sight and out of earshot.

“Christine? As in your ex?” he hissed.

“She’s a doctor, Tony, and a damn good one too. She’s seen her fair share of strange things and ambiguous genitalia is nowhere near up there.”

“Okay, I don’t know if you can’t hear yourself or if you’re being an ass on purpose, but you’re being an ass!”

Stephen opened his mouth to protest, but Tony beat him to the punch.

“Never mind how I feel, but you and I both know how Loki feels about her! No shade on Christine, coz I’m sure she’s great but - ” Tony’s knight’s-move thinking took him off course, “Ambiguous? Really?”

Stephen stared. What’s so wrong with what he said? “That...is the clinical term, if you must know.”

“I don’t give a shit. You don’t say things like that,” Tony seethed. “I’ve never been surer of what Loki is and what he has, and what he has is not a fucking cul-de-sac!”

“I know that, and that is why I’m trying to get to the bottom of this because I know what’s at stake!” Stephen’s voice rose in pitch to match Tony’s. “I am not going to argue semantics with you when Loki could be having an ectopic pregnancy that could kill him at any minute while we stand here fighting!”

Tony instantly deflated. “I’m not fighting.”

“Good!” Stephen snapped. A guilty look instantly flashed across his face. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to yell.”

“No, I get it. You’re worried about Loki,” Tony sighed heavily. “And I’m sorry too. I just - I can't - " his voice caught in his throat, "You're probably used to it, but I can't stand seeing him like this."

"You never get used to seeing someone you love hurting," Stephen said quietly.

Tony's gaze softened. "Yeah." His thumb rubbed comforting circles on the back of Stephen's scarred hand. "I've got your back."

Stephen smiled gratefully. "Thanks, Tony."

When they turned around to return to Loki, the sight awaiting them froze them in their tracks.

"Oh shit," Tony breathed. "No, no, no…"

Everywhere they looked they saw ice, creeping across the tiles from where the examination table was bolted to the floor and spreading toward the computers and sensitive medical equipment surrounding it.

Still deeply unconscious, Loki's Aesir glamour had fallen away, revealing his Jotun form, skin as blue as the slab of ice he was lying on.

#ironstrangefrost mpreg #ironstrangefrost #frostiron #ironstrange #loki #mpreg loki #pregnant loki #fic #ao3 #strangefrost

30 notes · View notes

emlovesstates · 2 years

Text

The Love Child

Keep in mind that this took two days and two people to write @atlas-427 Thanks for writing this with me I had fun I hope you had fun as well.

So they’re at a meeting Ohio and Michigan and Pennsylvania are there with New York and Canada is there and they’re in Toronto and she’s like” York do you remember when we dated* he pauses, thinking ‘where the hell is this going’ and says “yeah…” “ shortly after we broke up I found out I was pregnant with twins”new york’s face goes completely pale “…what”The room fell silent

“ I said I was pregnant shortly after we broke up with twin girls one represents your side of the falls and the other one represents my side of the falls”Michigan, Ohio and Pennsylvania are shocked.

New York doesn’t say anything. PA puts a hand on his shoulder “you ok York?”NY passes out

PA catches him” Michigan call Georgia Ohio help me take him to the car”

oh my goodness I’m so sorry” Says Canada.Penn Decides to defends his friend, “i’m sure you’d freak out if you were just told you have 2 kids with your ex too. right now we need to get him to the hospital” Pennsylvania says angrily. Ohio looks at Pennsylvania and says ” no we’re not gonna be fast enough if we drive him there we need to call 911” well helping Pennsylvania with New York.Canada defends herself” maybe but I didn’t think you would pass out”

PA is getting fed up, “whatever you thought didn’t happen. we’ll talk about the situation more when he’s awake. for now we’ll get to the hospital with my driving” Pennsylvania says Ohio and Michigan Helps PA get New York into the car. Penn gets into the drivers side. Canada tried to tag along but ends up driving herself

PA gets them there in record time.

Once they get to the hospital doctors take him and he ends up in the ER.

The doctors run some tests, turns out he just passed out but they give him supplemental oxygen and wait for him to wake up.

While The doctors are testing New York, Michigan calls Georgia to tell him that New York passed out and tell him why.They’re all waiting for New York to wake up.

Time skip

New York finally wakes up after being out for at least two hours, he takes off the oxygen makes and looks around confused “what happened?” Pennsylvania looks at New York to explain everything that happened. he looks like he’s about to faint again but gains his composure “Canada why didn’t you tell me sooner?” New York ask The Canadian right next to him.

“ because I was scared and I didn’t know how you would react York. I am so sorry.” Canada answers the New Yorkers question.NY sighs “fair, but don’t be upset with me for being angry at you. because apparently i have 2 more daughters and didn’t know for years” New York exclaims very annoyed.“ I understand, do you want to meet your daughters?” Canada says feeling a little guilty. New York looks at Canada and says“I definitely do, but I might need some time to process this. oh god i need to tell my other kids” New York said realizing that he has to tell his other children.

Canada tells him that she understands and takes as much time as he needs. She leaves the hospital with the four states in the hospital.Michigan looks at York and said” and now I understand why you don’t trust her, you okay bud?''

New York looks like he just aged 30 years “i will be. i was worried we might have had a kid together, but i wasn’t expecting it to be true, or that it’d be twins” Michigan Nodded and says “ it’s gonna be okay it’s not your fault you didn’t know” New York looks at Michigan and says“i know, thanks Michigan”

the doctor comes in “i see you’re awake. that’s good, you’re vitals all seems normal. i suppose you fainted from recent stress?” New York nods and says” yep sounds about right” Doctor nods in understanding “well as long as you have a strong support system, which it looks like you do, i see no reason to keep you here any longer. your release papers will be at the nurses station”So they go to the nurses station and because this is Canada and they don’t have to pay medical bills. They leave the hospital and go back to the US. Waiting for them at the border is Georgia. Georgia asked what was going on and Pennsylvania explained the whole situation. New York looks to Georgia “Peach, how are we going to tell the kids?”Georgia looks at New York and says “ together like always” Georgia says and kisses his boyfriend.

Time skip

When they get back to the State house. New York and Georgia, Call all the kids for a family meeting. They decided that they might as well tell the rest of the country too. Everyone comes to the meeting.

only PA, Ohio, and Michigan know what it’s about. Everyone is looking around, confused. Until NYC speaks up. “Dad, what's this meeting is about?” NYC asked his father what the meeting was about. New York starts to tell the story of Canada. After New York finishes telling the story

The room goes quiet. York’s kids start shaking, a few with tears in their eyes. no one knows what to say.

Until, Gov speaks up to ask” we can make this work you said that one of them represents your side of the waterfall?” The fed asked. NY nods “yeah, the other represents her side” New York said.

Gov looks at New York and says “Either way they’re both getting citizenship” NY’s eyes fill with tears “thanks Gov” Gov ad lit no idea how much this meant to New York and Georgia. Gov looks at New York and says“you’re welcome”

Syracuse crawls into her dad’s arms hugging him because she just realizes she’s not a baby anymore. New York hugs his daughter says“i love you baby girl” Syracuse squeezed her dad tight and said“ daddy I love you more”Before they knew it his other kids gather around for a group hug.Even NYC. Which was a surprise to New York.The other states are in aww.

Texas wants the lecture York but he knows it won’t go anywhere so he doesn’t. Florida try to make a quip but get dragged out by other states with a hand on their mouths then was lectured about it.Georgia and his kids joined the group hug too.it turns into a giant group hug

“ So daddy, when are we going to meet our new sisters?” Albany asked.She’s excited about getting two new sisters.

Poor Syracuse doesn’t want new sisters because then she won’t be the baby anymore

Syracuse is like” daddy I don’t want you sisters I like being the baby”New York looks at his baby girl and said “sorry baby, i can’t exactly go back in time and unalive 2 girls”

“Okay daddy” she says pouting even though she knows it’s not gonna fix anything.

Georgia and New York and not putting the kids to bed Syracuse basically begged her dad to let her sleep with them (I just like the idea of her acting like a clingy baby because she’s like scared that because she’s no longer the youngest she thinks everything‘s gonna change which yeah she’s kind of right)

Time skip

So a few weeks later after New York wrapped his head around having two more kids and trying to comfort his children.

He’s called Canada and set up a meeting date at Niagara Falls to meet Naya and Francine. So he gathers up the kids I think at first he just brings his kids and maybe Vermont you know he has his own life it’s like okay yeah no Dad this is fine you go do whatever you want.

they’re all standing around a bench waiting for Canada and the girls to arrive. eventually NYC spots Canada walking towards them“Hey pops look” NYC says trying to get his father’s attention.

New York who had been pacing swivels his head around to see Canada flanked by 2 girls who look around to seven years old

(I feel like the girls would be born in the 1900s)

Everyone stands up to greet Canada and the girls.“ hey Canada “

New York says a bit nervously.“Hello New York and company, how are you all doing?” Canada says.“ we’re doing good” trying to keep his composure “great, great. uh, i guess we should get right to it, eh? this is Naya and Francine” the girls are hiding behind her legs because they’re nervous about the big group

New York bent down on his knees try to get on their level and in a soft voice” hi Naya and Francine I’m your dad”

Naya pokes her head out while Francine keeps half her face hidden

Naya: “really?” Naya asked

“ yeah I’m your dad and these are your older siblings” he points to his other kids who are trying to get NYC the smile and failing.

Naya comes out a bit more from behind her mother, which makes Francine more confident to stick her head out

Naya: “hi everyone” she says waving

Francine whispers a hello

They all say hi but NYC says sup because he has be different . Albany grabs Syracuse his hand and goes next to her father.

Albany and Syracuse introduce themselves to the girls and explain how they’re their new sisters.

Naya’s eyes light up” you are?”

Syracuse smiles at her new little sister and says “yeah we are”

Francine pokes her head even more to see her sisters.

Syracuse focuses more on Naya while Albany tries to get Francine out of her shell. New York stands up “hey Canada, thanks again for letting us meet them” New York says

She tells him you’re welcome

Rochester and Buffalo go say hi to Naya” hi we’re two of your big brothers I’m Rochester and this knucklehead is Buffalo” Rochester sad.

Canada wants the girls to spend time with their father so she would tell the girls that she’s gonna leave them with their father. It's only for a couple days and they’ll stay here in Niagara. after everyone has introduced themselves, Canada hands New York a bag she packed for both girls. He takes the bag and thanks her for it.

Canada says her goodbyes and the group heads off. Francine is a bit reluctant but eventually follows Albany. Naya walks next to NY, asking questions

New York try to answer the questions as best as he can he forgot what it was like to have a little kids around.

his kids start jumping in and answering some questions for him

Which he is very thankful for. so they get into the car and they go to his house.

Francine stays near Albany

Albany is asking her questions and telling her about the family, trying to get her to open up more.it’s kind of working.

Francine talks a bit more and asks some questions about her siblings

“ what’s NYC like?” Francine asked.

“NYC seems standoffish but he won’t He won’t be mean to you he actually loves all of us he just doesn’t like to admit it” Albany says causing Francine to giggle.

When they get to the houseAlbany helps to get the girls settled.

She leaves the girls to get comfortable, New york sits in the living room thinking about the reality of having 2 new young daughters

Georgia who is making food for the family sees him sitting there thinking

Geo asks “what’s on your mind Apple?” New York takes a minute to respond “ they’re seven years old physically” New York says stress. Georgia sits on the couch next to him and says “yeah, they’re young alright. Naya is definitely talkative, ain’t she?” New York places his head on George’s shoulder.“She is she’s also our side” New York says

as Georgia wraps his arm around his body.“Is that what’s bothering you?” Georgia asked. New York shook his head“No it’s not that it’s just it��s been so long since I had little kids running around” Geo nods understandingly

“you’re not used to it, i get it. luckily you have a big family to help out” New York smiles at his boyfriend.“Yeah and I have you” New York says smiling at Georgia. Georgia smiles back and says“always Apple, i love you”

“ I love you too Peach”

then they kiss Albany comes into the room and asked if lunch is ready.

Georgia is just finishing up so he asks her to tell everyone.Albany go gets everyone .they all sit down at the table and eat when Georgia brings the food in.

“ dad how did you and Georgia get together.” Naya asked her father and stepfather. They tell her the story, it’s not long but they tell the truth. Naya seems very fascinated by it. she has that face of wonderment you only see on kids.

As their eating lunch NYC mentions uncle Mass and uncle Connecticut.

Naya asks about them and what they’re like .(if you couldn’t tell Naya is a very curious child.)Albany takes over and explains what they’re like because she can do it more nicely than NYC.Once she’s done, Francine looks like she has a question but is too shy to ask. Albany notices this.” Francine do you need anything or have a question“ Albany asked Francine nod her head.Albany asks “what is it?”

“ Do we have any cousins?” Francine asked Albany looks at her little sister and says*Yes we do our uncles have children of their own.”

“ what are their names Albany?“ Francine the shy seven-year-old asked.” well uncle Massachusetts has Boston and Salem and Maine and uncle Connecticut has Hartford and New Haven.” Albany answers her little sister’s questions.

Naya starts firing off questions about what they’re like and if they could meet them and Francine is gaining more confidence.

Albany says” I can FaceTime them later and you can say hi.

soon everyone finishes lunch and begins cleaning up. Albany asks if the girls want a tour of the house.they say yes and the three head off.

So NYC and New York are having a staring contest until NYC brings up the child support.York growls out “what about it?” NYC ask“ how much does she want you to pay her” New York who is getting annoyed his son.“she hasn’t said anything about it yet” NYC smirks and says“Oh well pops you might get lucky”

“might” York says a bit annoyed

NYC stands up grabs his plateThen says “and Dad you don’t have to worry about it and then you can pay it with the money that we make.”

“that’s true”

Before New York City leaves the room he looks at his father and says “ One more thing Pops will be fine I know this is big news and life-changing but we face bigger problems before” New York smirks at his son and says“we have. thanks for trying to cheer me up kid”

Justice NYC is exiting he says“ no problem Pops”NYC goes to hide in his room.

Time skip to a little bit after lunch.

New York and Georgia are cuddling on the couch when Albany and the girls come back from their tour

Francine and Naya and Albany decide to join Georgia and New York on the couch. New York, who's wanting to get to know his new daughters better, asks ``So Naya Francine what are your interests and hobbies? What kind of toys do you like to play with?”

they both go on a rant, talking about their favorite toys, their stuffed animals and what each are named, their favorite cartoons, and what sports they play

After the girls go on their rant. Georgia gets an idea he has a Big smirk on his face.“i know that look, what are you planning?” NY said noticing the look on his boyfriends face “ let’s take them toy shopping that way they have some stuff when they come to visit.” Georgia said.“great idea Peach” York says

the girls’ eyes light up and they get excited.

Syracuse hears the word shopping and runs into the living room. ``Did I hear something about going shopping!?!!?!?!!!!”

Albany stands up “YES, daddy is taking Francine and Naya toy shopping”

“ Daddy can we please go” Syracuse makes the puppy dog eyes and pouts

York can’t say no to his girls “yes, honey, you and Albany can come”

So New York takes his girls shopping.and Albany and Syracuse may have gone a little overboard of the stuff animals and toys

when they get back to the house and have to recruit the boys to help bring everything into the house.

once they get all the toys in the house they unpackaged them and the girls play with the toys Albany and Syracuse join them they tried to get The boys to join but they wouldn’t budge.

Meanwhile Georgia and New york make some coffee and cuddle on the couch. While the girls play they’re just trying to relax.

Time skip

So after the girls are done playing and after dinner the kids pick up the toys and then they decide to watch family movie together and they’re watching Encanto. it goes good. everyone has snacks, people tear up at certain parts whether being from relating to the characters or actual sad scenes. first family movie night with Francine and Naya is a success.they find out the girls really like candy

So by the end of the movie Francine and Naya have fallen asleep because they are tucker out after a long day. they’re taken to their rooms to sleep in peace. New York and Georgia tuck them in.then the other kids go to bed.

New York and Georgia crawl into bed as well

Everybody sleeps well in the New York household.

even new york after who knows how long with all his stressThe end I hope you enjoy this I had fun writing it. Even NYC who doesn’t like to sleep.

And that’s how the NY family life got two new family members

The end I hope you enjoy this I had fun writing it

#ben brainard #welcome to the statehouse #welcome to the table #wttt #wttsh #new york #georgia #new york x georgia #canada #niagara falls

5 notes · View notes

hale-13 · 3 years

Text

Strangulated

By Hale13

For the Summer of Whump Day 26 Prompt - Asphyxiation

“That’s pretty new,” Peter muttered aloud, perched on the side of a building in Midtown and staring intently at the man in a full on metal rhino costume destroying the front of a Well’s Fargo. The police that had responded to the call had drawn their weapons and were perched behind their cars, clearly just as baffled and making no attempts to stop or prevent the crime.

Words: 1754, Chapters: 1/1 (Complete), Language: English

Fandoms: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)

Rating: Gen

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Rhino

TW: Strangulation

Read on AO3 or below the line break.

“It is new Peter,” Karen’s voice chirped happily from his mask. “You have not faced this criminal before. Would you like me to activate instant kill?” She sounded far too hopeful for Peter’s liking and he sighed, dodging the small chunk of concrete that flew his way.

“Karen, darling, love of my life. We’ve talked about this,” he told her gently, swinging closer and dropping down behind the line of cop cars. “Instant kill is not the answer to all lives problems.”

“If you say so,” and she sounded so disappointed. Peter would have to have a conversation with Mr. Stark – he had no idea how he made his AI’s so lifelike but he really wanted to know.

“Ugh,” one of the cops said, rolling his eyes as he noticed Peter. “Scram Spider-Guy, this ain’t any of your business.”

Peter fought an eye roll of his own. “Real nice pal,” he said sarcastically, stepping forward anyway. The guys partner nudged him pointedly in the side.

“Just send in the freak. Might save us the effort.” Peter fought the urge to cringe at the sneer directed at him. He had a pretty thick skin but he wasn’t the biggest fan of being called a ‘freak’. Especially by the people he was trying to help.

“Happy to be of service,” Peter grunted with a two finger salute. “Just stay back and let the professional work.” He fired a web and took off in the direction of the rhino guy before either of the police had the chance to respond. He purposely used their car as a jumping off point just to really rub it in and smirked a little at their grunts of irritation. “Hey big guy!” He called as he landed in the pock-marked and cracked street. Rhino-guy turned around and charged with a roar. “Whoa there!” Peter called as he jumped over his head. “You haven’t even introduced yourself yet!”

“I will squash you like bug!” The man said in a thick Russian accent, scraping one of his feet against the ground like a bull and charging Peter head first again. Peter nimbly dodged again and dangled with one hand from a nearby streetlight.

“You know spiders are arachnids right? Not bugs?” Peter bantered, swinging around the pole and releasing at just the right moment to launch himself across the street the nail Rhino in the face, sending him stumbling back before he corrected himself with a roar. Peter somersaulted out of the way of another charge.

“Stay still so I can kill you,” he roared.

“Tempting,” Peter mused, webbing Rhino’s arms to his sides. “But I’ll pass.”

Rhino roared again in obvious frustration and ripped through Peter’s webs with great effort. “That’s not ideal,” Peter said as he fired more webs in an attempt to slow down Rhino to no avail. Freed once more, Rhino changed forward. This time, however, Peter took a step back into one of the holes in the asphalt and tripped; he was able to right himself quickly but not fast enough to dodge out of the way of Rhino’s hands.

“Oof,” Peter gasped, hands flying up to his throat where Rhino had wrapped his mechanized hands around Peter’s throat, holding him a couple feet above the ground and leaving Peter to flail his legs in an attempt to escape. “Not cool bro,” Peter breathed out with his limited air supply as the Rhino squeezed tighter and backed him up to slam Peter into a nearby brick wall.

“You talk too much,” Rhino grumbled, redoubling his hold on Peter and making him grunt with effort and scrambled to pull the hands from around his throat.

“Peter your pulse ox is dropping rapidly,” Karen said, displaying the number on his HUD and Peter squeezed his eyes shut as it ticked from ninety-three percent to ninety-two. “Calling Mr. Stark.”

“No don’t,” Peter wheezed out a little desperately, his throat feeling raw and swollen and his lungs beginning to burn.

“On my way kid,” Tony’s voice said through his comm as Karen connected his mentor to Peter’s HUD. “Any chance you can break out before you pass out.” Peter just let out a frustrated puff of air and, with intense effort, lifted his legs to press his feet against Rhino’s chest to begin pushing. His vision was tunneling and pulsing around the edges and Peter knew it was only his stubborn pig-headedness and sheer force of will that was keeping him conscious at this point. The pulse ox reading in the corner ticked down to eighty-seven and, with Herculean strength, Peter finally knocked the Rhino away from him and collapsed to the ground.

“‘M good,” Peter croaked tightly, letting his head rest back against the road as he recovered his breath. He didn’t have long through as his Spidey sense tingled violently and he threw himself to the side of the road to dodge out of Rhino’s path. His vision was still a little spotty and he stumbled like he was drunk but Peter was able to pull himself back to his feet and stand without assistance. “Not cool dude,” he said, his throat burning and his words coming out like he had been gargling gravel.

He needed to end this quick. He couldn’t afford to get caught again. With effort, Peter jumped back into the air, firing webs at rapid speed as he did so – attaching Rhino to the ground in a veritable cocoon. Rhino screamed in anger and struggled but Peter’s webs held this time much to his relief. “He’s all yours boys,” he said in the direction of the police, his voice thready and painful and he swallowed down a cough.

It took all the energy he had left to swing away, alighting on a nearby apartment roof and dropping first to his knees and then back to sit cross-legged. His neck hurt and he could feel the swelling starting to constrict his trachea and vocal chords. Tony landed in front of him a few seconds later, stepping out of his suit and squatting down in front of Peter with several cracks and pops of his knees.

“Try not to talk buddy,” Tony told him, lifting his mask up to his nose and pulling the neck down carefully, wincing at whatever he saw and making Peter hunch his shoulders and pull away, fixing his mask back to its usual position. “Helen’s waiting for us back in the MedBay. I’m going to carry you and your not going to bitch about it capiche?” Peter rolled his eyes knowing it would translate to the large white lenses on his mask but didn’t protest when Tony stepped back into the Iron Man armor and picked him up.

The flight back to the Tower was quick since Peter had ventured into Manhattan to patrol today and they were soon landing on the small balcony outside the MedBay doors. Peter still felt a little light-headed and dizzy and swayed a little in place when Tony lowered him back to the ground to stand on his own while the suited disassembled around him and flew off to the armory. “Steady there,” the man said gently, slinging Peter’s arm across his shoulders and helping him walk into the building.

“Hey Peter,” Helen Cho said as she approached them from the nurses station down the hall and ushered them into an open exam room. “Karen sent me your stats so let’s just see the damage yeah?” She said as Peter settled on the exam bed.

Peter smacked his hand into the spider emblem on his chest, letting the suit fall down to rest around his hips, pulling his mask off and tossing it next to him on the bed. Dr. Cho wrinkled her nose and softly palpated Peter’s neck making him grunt and grimace, manfully resisting the urge to pull away from her. “Well you’ve already got some pretty severe swelling,” she said, clipping a pulse oximeter onto his finger and frowning at the result. “And you’re still not oxygenating as well as I’d like.”

“So what’s the plan then,” Tony said, slapping a hand over Peter’s mouth when he opened it to speak and ignoring the glare Peter sent him and the spiteful lick Peter gave his hand in the hopes that Tony would remove his hand.

“Well I’m going to start supplemental oxygen first,” Dr. Cho said, unwinding an oxygen mask from the wall and pushing Peter back until he was reclined on the bed and slipped the mask over his mouth and nose. “I’ll have a nurse come in with something for you to change into and then I want to start IV steroids and pain relief to get the swelling down. With you’re healing,” she said addressing Peter, “you should only be here overnight. I just want to make sure that your airway doesn’t swell closed. You’ll also need to rest your voice since you probably have some damage to your vocal chords.”

Disappointed, Peter nodded. This was not in his plan for the day and he was really looking forward to playing Beast Slayers with Ned tonight but, if he was confined to a MedBay bed and doped up on his pain meds he doubted he would be worth much of anything. Well at least he’d probably catch up on some of his sleep.

A few hours later, floating due to his super strength meds and curled up under a pre-warmed blanket, Peter squeaked out a hoarse ‘thanks’ making Tony, sat beside him and tapping away at a tablet with his feet propped up on the end of Peter’s bed, fix him with a glare. “Aren’t you supposed to be resting your voice?” Peter just gave him a dopey smile and burrowed deeper into the blanket, adjusting the melting ice pack that was wrapped around his still tender throat.

He’d have to do some research of mechanized rhinos in the morning. He had already come up with some fun tweaks for his web fluid that might be beneficial going forward. With chemical equations dancing around in his brain, Peter fell into an deep, easy sleep.

#summerofwhump #summerofwhump26 #Prompt: Asphyxiation #irondad #spider man #Summer of Whump 2021

14 notes · View notes

jobrookekarev · 3 years

Text

Little Moon Chapter 4

Chapter: 4/?

Words: 4724

Summary: Jo spends the evening with Luna in her room on the Ped floor and Hayes announces that Luna is ready to go home. After Luna passes the car seat test with flying colors, Jo and Luna go to their new home at Meredith's house.

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy.

Relationship: Jo Wilson/Alex Karev (Mentioned).

Characters: Jo Wilson, Luna Ashton, Cormac Hayes, Meredith Grey, Atticus Lincoln, Levi Schmitt, Zola Grey-Shepherd, Derek Bailey Grey-Shepherd, and Ellis Grey-Shepherd.

Rating: General Audiences.

Additional Tags: Fluff, All the Fluff, Parenting, Babies, NICU Baby, Foster Care, Going Home, Nursery, Infant Care, Jo being a Mom!

Read at AO3

Read at FFN

AN: After Thursday's episode, we all need some good Jo and Luna fluff where they're both happy and together! I swear if Krista doesn't make this right I'm going to cry a river and then riot on twitter!

……………………………………………………………………

Jo sighed yet, all of her exhaustion faded away as she walked into Luna's room on the Ped’s floor. Luna had graduated to her own room a month ago after her bout of Aspiration Pneumonia. She had been taken off the ventilator, although she was still on supplemental oxygen. Since then, she had also gained a pound and a half and now weighed 6 pounds. Her preemie was now a little baby, still small, but absolutely perfect. Luna was doing so well and Jo couldn't be more proud of her little fighter.

“Hello, my Little Moon,” Jo said as she went over to Luna's crib and looked down to see her swaddled in the white and blue star blanket that Jo had hung over her incubator since she was four weeks old.

Luna woke up and let out the most adorable yawn, but immediately her face contorted into a grimace as she let out a cry. Jo cooed as she carefully lifted Luna out of the crib and was careful with her oxygen and other monitors as she moved over to sit in the rocking chair. The move from the crib to the rocking chair without disturbing any of the monitors or oxygen tubes was a delicate dance that Jo had become an expert at.

Luna’s fussing continued, but the second Jo picked her up, she started to calm. By the time they settled in the rocking chair, Luna had calmed down and was staring up at her with big blue eyes. Jo smiled down at Luna as they rocked back and forth and held her baby.

“Mama had such a hard day today. I don't remember my first year of residency being this hard, but Auntie Carina is kicking Mama's butt. And she speaks in Italian at a hundred words a minute, so I can barely keep up. I think I'm going to have to learn Italian if I want to keep studying with her. Can you help your Mama learn Italian, mia bella luna?” Jo said as she trailed her finger down Luna's cheek.

“But how was your day, Luna? Were you good for Dr. Hayes and your nurse Jackie?” Jo asked as Luna just stared up at her before Jo reached for the tablet and looked at Luna's chart. “Oh, I see you ate a lot today, and you were able to burp, but you peed on the nurse again. I thought we agreed we liked nurse Moria? And then you got some playtime and a good nap, no poopy diapers. I guess you’re saving that for Mama, but let's try not to poop in the tub again?”

Jo continued to talk to Luna and tell her all about her day as she stared up at her. Luna became fussy again, and Jo got her a bottle, then burped her, and changed her diaper. Sure enough, she was saving the poop for Jo, but thankfully she didn't ruin her onesie. Jo got her cleaned up and then pulled out the spaced themed play mat and set it on the floor, gently placing Luna in the middle for a bit of tummy time. She also put on some soft music and dangled the little rocket ship in front of her as it seemed to be Luna’s favorite, or at least she stared at it more than the other toys. Luna usually didn’t like tummy time, and after a few minutes, she began to fuss, so Jo moved her onto her back where she wiggled her arms and legs and stared up at the little rocket ship that Jo clipped to the overhead bar.

Luna wasn't too active as she was still technically a newborn despite being three months old. They had to subtract from her due date, and so technically, Luna was three weeks old. Yet, she seemed so big to Jo, despite the fact that she was only 6 lb. She couldn't help but remember how tiny she was when she was in the incubator, and here she was, moving around and turning her head. She just seemed to have grown so much in such a short time. Luna wiggled around for a while until she decided she was done and began to cry. Jo swept her up into her arms and held her close, enjoying their snuggle time.

As it got dark, Jo ordered food from the cafeteria and ate dinner one handed as she held Luna. After dinner, Jo got Luna set up for a bath. Because of her sensitive skin, she only got one every few days, but they were Jo's favorite days as she got to play with her in the water, and Luna loved the water. Jo filled up the bath in the adjoined bathroom, and nurse Jackie came in to help Jo unhook Luna from all of her monitors and the oxygen tubes. Finally, Jo completely undressed her and wrapped her in a fresh swaddle blanket before going into the bathroom and setting Luna in the baby tub. Jo sat down on the ground next to the tub and grabbed a cup as she gently poured warm water over Luna’s stomach in the swaddle. Luna’s eyes immediately fluttered close as she seemed content in the bath.

“Yeah, you like the warm bath, don't you, Little Moon,” Jo said with a smile as she poured the water over her body again.

After a few minutes, Jo began to unswaddle one of Luna’s arms one at a time so she can gently wash them with a washcloth and a little bit of soap. She made sure to get in between her fingers and toes before Jo finally opened the blanket, and she rubbed the washcloth over her little tummy, gentle of the scars from her Bronchogenic cyst and the Nissen fundoplication a few weeks ago. They were just hairline scars now and Jo knew that by the time she was an adult, they would just be finger-length long. When she grew up and asked about the scars, Jo would tell Luna that her scars were nothing to be ashamed of because she was a fighter and her scars were a symbol of her survival. Jo finished washing her body and swaddled Luna back up before she gently rubbed the washcloth over Luna's cheek.

“Oh I know, I know. We don't like this part, do we?” Jo said to Luna as she fussed and turned her head away.

Jo tried to be as quick as possible, gently scrubbing away the stickiness leftover from the tape to her oxygen tubes and being as gentle with her baby's skin as she could. Jo finished up and grabbed the grey elephant baby towel as Luna cried. She unswaddled her from the wet blanket and picked her up, putting Luna in her lap with the towel as she quickly wrapped it around her. Jo held Luna close and cuddled her gently, rocking back and forth until Luna calmed down again before she drained the bath and went back into the room. Jo gently laid her down on the fresh crib sheets that Jackie had changed.

“Alright, diaper first and then, lotion, bottle, book, songs, and bed, sound good, my Little Moon?” Jo asked as she wiggled her fingers over Luna’s tummy.

Jo hooked Luna back up to all of her monitors and got the oxygen tubes placed as she kicked. Jo grabbed the lotion and massaged Luna’s gentle skin as she looked up at Jo with her big blue eyes. Jo picked out a fresh onesie, this one was a light blue with white outlines of little leaves all over it, before grabbing the matching blanket that Jo gently wrapped around her, but not yet swaddling her. The room had a little sink and countertop where Jo was able to make up a bottle before she chose a book from the shelf. Tonight’s book was called ‘My Little Brave Girl’ and was one of the many gifts that Jo had received since she began the process of adopting Luna. The books had been her favorite as she settled in the rocking chair with the bottle and the book as she read to her Little Moon.

As Jo finished the book, she looked down at Luna, who was still working on the bottle. “You know, for someone who only drinks about 4 oz, you sure do take a while,” Jo said as she smiled down at her and continued to stare at her as she ate.

These were her favorite moments of the day. The calm, quiet moments that she got to spend with Luna, just holding her and taking care of her. Jo transitioned into the role of Luna's mom faster than she could have ever imagined, although there were some hiccups here and there. Jo felt lucky that she still had lots of nurses and other staff at the hospital to take care of Luna while she was at work, yet she still felt every bit Luna's mom. She tried to be there when she woke up in the morning, she spent all her breaks there, and she was there to put Luna to bed at night. These days she practically lived in the room with Luna, and Hayes didn't have the heart to kick her out when she fell asleep in the rocking chair. At least it was better than the crowded Loft with Helm and Levi still crashing there. It was rough though, Jo couldn’t take off her mask or ventilator helmet for very long, and she couldn’t officially set up a cot, so she occasionally slept in the on-call room down the hall. Yet Jo made it work because she would rather sleep in a rocking chair than be away from Luna.

Jo heard a knock on the glass and looked up to see Bailey and Webber smiling at her as they waved. “Look, Auntie Bailey and Uncle Richard are here to see you.”

Luna had finished her bottle, and Jo placed it on the shelf before she got up and walked over to stand in front of the window so Bailey and Weber could see her.

“Well, hello Luna, aren't you getting big and you look so happy in your Mama's arms,” Bailey said as she waved and smiled at Luna.

“She's getting big, isn't she Wilson,” Webber asked, looking down at little Luna and giving her a wave.

“She is, she ate a whole 4 ½ ounces tonight, and now she weighs 6 lb, she’s getting so big,” Jo said, smiling down at Luna with pride.

“Oh well, you gotta get big and strong so that you can keep your Mama on her toes, isn’t that right, little missy,” Bailey said as she cooed at Luna, who was fixated on her.

Luna had so many aunties and uncles who came by and visited her every day at the hospital. Even Meredith had managed to stop by and visit. Although they weren’t allowed in Luna's room, they waved and smiled at her through the glass. Bailey and Weber talked to her for a little while before Luna grew fussy and tired, and they left so Jo could put her down.

Jo pulled the curtain across the glass and turned off the overhead lights before turning on the moon shaped light. She turned on the sound machine that she had gotten to play the quiet sounds of the rain. She put Luna back down on the crib to swaddle her before she picked her back up again and returned to the rocking chair.

“La la lu, La la lu,

Oh, my little star sweeper,

I'll sweep the stardust for you,

La la lu, La la lu,

Little soft, fluffy sleeper,

Here comes a pink cloud for you.”

Jo had to admit she didn't have the best singing voice, but Luna’s eyes fluttered close, and she settled in her arms, and quietly drifted off. Over the past few weeks, Jo had learned all the Disney lullabies, and the Little Star Sweeper song from Lady and the Tramp had quickly become Luna and Jo’s favorite.

Even after Luna fell asleep, Jo kept singing the lullaby once more, and she continued to rock and hold Luna. She never felt like she got enough time with her, in between her residency and her studies, and Luna being in the hospital, being rounded on and checked over. Jo could hold Luna forever and some nights she did. As soon as she was sure she could move without waking her up, Jo grabbed her OB/GYN books and the TV remote and settled in to study with Luna in one arm. Although it was hard to concentrate with the sleeping little girl in her arms captured her attention every time Jo looked at her. She didn't even notice Hayes and Schmitt coming into the room with the interns for the night rounds until he pulled back the curtain and turned on the lights.

“What the hell are you doing? Turn off the lights!” Jo hissed at them as she pulled the blanket up over Luna’s head.

“Our apologies Wilson,” Hayes said as he glared at the interns until Dr. Khan turned off the lights.

“Young Ortiz, presen.”

“Luna Ashton,” Ortiz said in a normal tone as Luna stirred in Jo’s arms.

“Shhh!” Jo shushed her along with a glare as Ortiz shrank back.

“Ummm Luna Ashton, 4 ½ months old, born at 26 weeks, surgery at four weeks old for a Bronchogenic cyst, and another at 4 months for Nissen fundoplication, is now breathing on her own and her gastroesophageal reflux is under control. She has had no episodes of apnea or bradycardia for the last two weeks, is able to maintain her temperature, is taking donated breast milk by bottle, and weighed 6lb and 1oz at this morning’s weight check.”

As Ortiz presented, Hayes came over, and Jo reluctantly let him hold Luna and move her over to lay in the crib as he checked her lungs. Luna slept through the whole thing. It was the touch of a good pediatric surgeon. Arizona had that touch and so did Alex. Jo took a deep breath as she ignored the thought of her ex-husband and focused on the baby in front of her.

“Conclusion?” Hayes asked as he finished his exam and gave Luna back to Jo.

“Discharge with continued supplemental oxygen at home?” Ortiz said, unsure as she read the chart.

“What?” Jo asked, looking between Ortiz and Hayes.

Hayes just smiled as Jo just stared at him in shock. “Carry on to the next patient and wait for me there.”

“Levi can stay,” Jo said, looking at him.

The interns filtered out and closed the door as Jo just started at Hayes. “Luna can go home with me?”

“Yes, she is doing well even on supplemental oxygen, and we’ll get you set up with a CPAP machine and an apnea monitor, but with a doctor for a mum, I’m sure Luna will be in good hands,” Hayes said as he crossed his arms with a smile. “Get your maternity leave sorted and anything else you need from the courts, and we will schedule a date for the car seat test, and then the two of you can go home.”

“She can come home with me. Luna can come home?” Jo asked, still in disbelief.

“Yes,” Hayes said with a smile.

“Jo this is amazing! Luna gets to go home!” Levi said, getting excited. “I’ll help you get the medical equipment tonight, and you can talk to Bailey and Carina tomorrow, and she can be home by this weekend.”

“Home,” Jo whispered, looking down at Luna.

Home had been the hospital for Luna’s entire life and this room had become Jo’s home too for the last few weeks. The thought of bringing her baby home to the Loft was both exciting and terrifying. Here at the hospital, Luna had round-the-clock medical care and a number of nurses who helped Jo take care of Luna’s day-to-day needs as well as all of her medical needs. Going home meant that Jo would have to do all of this on her own and although she knew how to do it, it was different because Luna was her baby. She had taken care of a number of babies when she was a resident in Ped, but this was her own kid, and there were no breaks, no shift ends. It was only her.

“Jo. Hey Jo,” Levi said, putting his hand on her shoulder as Jo finally came out of her head and looked up at him. “Don't worry, it's a good thing, and you're more than ready for it.”

“I know,” Jo said, taking a deep breath before she looked down at Luna. “We're going to be going home, my Little Moon, home.”

The day of the car seat test came, and from the moment they set Luna into the little black car seat, Jo became a nervous wreck. They got Luna settled, set up the monitor, and then they started the clock. Jo spent the hour pacing the length of Luna's room as she watched the monitor for any signs of a drop in heart rate. Jo was an anxious parent whenever it came to anything regarding Luna. Each time she so much as hiccup wronged, Jo instantly tensed up. She became just another mom on the NICU ward, and all of her logic and medical training went out the window as she worried for her daughter. Luna just watched Jo as she paced before she decided that her Mama was boring and slept through the rest of the car seat test.

The hour was over before she knew it and Luna was officially a graduate of the NICU. There was a little bit of excitement and celebration in the room as everyone started clapping. Jo got Luna out of the car seat as she smiled down at her Little Moon. One of the nurses presented her with a tiny graduation cap that had the number of days Luna was in the NICU, along with a tiny little onesie that said NICU graduate. They were finally going home and Jo could hardly believe it.

They all got packed up to leave, and all of the nurses and staff who had come to know and love Luna just as much as she did, came to see them off. They presented her with so many gifts that Jo could barely fit them all in her car. When they walked out of the hospital, everybody was there to see them off, including Bailey, Webber, Levi, Helm, Maggie, Winston, Hayes, Teddy, Owen, and Amelia as they all wished her congratulations. Finally, Link was waiting for them next to her car.

“Your chariot awaits m’ladies,” Link said, opening the back door for her.

“Thank you for doing this,” Jo said as she put Luna’s car seat in the car and reached out to pull Link in for a hug.

She felt so lucky that she had such amazing friends and family who stepped up to be there for her and Luna. She would have never succeeded in becoming Luna's guardian or becoming her Mama if it weren't for her friends encouraging and supporting her.

“Ready?” Link asked as he turned around in the front seat as Jo got Luna’s car seat settled and sat next to her.

“Yes,” Jo said as she looked down at Luna, who she suckled on her pacifier, still looking ever so small in her car seat. “Let's go home.”

Jo looked down at Luna for the beginning of the ride home, cooing to her and talking to her about the outside world and the parks and other places they would go to. Link made sure to try and distract her with small talk, excitedly talking about how they could have playdates now with Scout and he can meet Luna. As well as a few tricks and things he had learned in the past few months with Scout. It was weird seeing her best friend be a parent and even weirder to think that she was now a mom to her own little girl.

She was so focused on Luna that she didn't even notice when he finally pulled up to Meredith's. It was bittersweet, pulling up to the house. Jo had originally wanted to take Luna home to the Loft as it had been her home for years, but when she did the first walk through with her lawyer, she said it was unlikely that she would get approved to live in such a place as it was hardly baby-friendly. Meredith’s house had been approved for foster care before, and all they had to do was update the license and redo the background checks. Meredith had graciously and excitedly offered to let Jo and Luna move back into the house. Still, it wouldn't be home, but then again, the Loft hadn't felt like home since Alex had left. Jo felt like she was just shuffling between the hospital and the Loft the way she did when she was in foster care. She hoped that with time and with a little decorating, their room at the house could become their home.

Link quickly came around to help her out of the car. He grabbed Luna’s oxygen tank, and Jo held the car seat as they walked into the house. As soon as they walked in, they saw the huge banner across the staircase that said ‘Welcome home Auntie Jo and Luna.’ As they looked into the living room Meredith and the kids were all there waiting for them. As soon as they noticed her, they all jumped up to run and greet her.

“Auntie Jo, you're here!” Zola said, getting to her first and wrapping her arms around Jo’s waist.

“We missed you!” Ellis said as she and Bailey bombarded Jo with hugs before they all pulled back and crouched down in front of the car seat that Jo had set on the floor.

“Is this her? Is this our new cousin?” Zola said, smiling down at her. “Hi, baby Luna.”

“She's so tiny,” Bailey said as they all stared down at Luna. “Scout was much bigger when you brought him home from the hospital, Uncle Link.”

Luna stared up at her new cousins with wide eyes taking them in as they watched her. Jo knew she shouldn't be, but she couldn't help but feel anxious, especially as Ellis reached out to touch her.

“Ellis, you need to ask Auntie Jo first before you touch Luna, and you need to wash your hands too,” Meredith said, coming up behind Ellis and putting her hands on her shoulders. “Why don't the three of you go put the finishing touches on Auntie Jo's room, and we’ll be up in a second.”

“Yeah, come on guys,” Bailey said, leading the charge up the stairs.

“I'm really glad you're here, Auntie Jo. We’ve missed you, especially since Uncle Alex left,” Zola said, giving her another hug before she disappeared up the stairs.

Jo smiled as they left, she had missed them too. They were her nieces and nephew despite how they weren't blood-related. She knew that they loved her, but going to Meredith's house just wasn't the same without Alex. And she hadn't seen the kids since the pandemic started.

Meredith came over and pulled her in for a hug before she looked back at Luna. “How does it feel to finally be home with her?”

“I am excited and a little terrified,” Jo said as she reached down and got Luna out of her car seat.

“I was too when we first brought Zola home, but you'll get the hang of it soon enough,” Meredith said, giving her shoulder a squeeze before she looked back at the living room. “We've got a second oxygen machine set up down here, as well as a pack and play, a high chair, and anything else you and Luna could need.”

“Thank you,” Jo said, looking around the room and smiling. She recognized the pack and play and some of the toys from when Meredith’s kids were babies, and it was nice that Luna was able to inherit these things from family.

“Well, let's go upstairs, and you can start unpacking,” Meredith said as she walked over to the stairs.

“I'll stick around and help you out,” Link said as he picked up the oxygen tank again and the three of them headed up.

Having lived there once before, Jo was familiar with the house and wasn't surprised when they led her into Cristina/Maggie's former room. She could hear all the kids giggling behind the door, and Bailey peeked out before Zola pulled him back in. Finally, they opened the door to her room. Jo gasped as she looked around her room. It was all set up and ready for her and Luna. The walls had been painted the same light red color as the door to the loft, and her bed had been made up with the same comforter, and even her macrame tapestry hung on the wall. Alex’s nightstand was on the right and hers on the left. There were their shelves and her woven laundry basket. Her TV was set up across from the bed, even her plants hung in the window. It was like they had simply picked up everything from her room in the Loft and put it exactly how it was in the room before her.

In the corner of the room, there was a galaxy tapestry with hanging lights at the differentiation of the little space for the nursery. Luna's white crib with her little rocket shelf was next to it with the rocker, and the little mobile with all the planets, stars, and the little moon were hung above it. Jo took everything in with wide eyed as she looked around the room and a smile stretched across her face.

“Being a new mom is hard,” Meredith said as Jo turned around to look at her and Link. “It's exhausting and never ending, and it can be very lonely, especially if you're doing it as a single parent. It's good to have a support system, and since I'm only back at work part-time, I’m able to help you whenever you need it.”

“And since Amelia and I are switching off shifts for now and Scout is here whenever one of us isn't, I can help you to, and we can figure out how to raise our kids together,” Link said with a smile, it was something that they had once dreamed about doing and now they finally could.

“I can help you out too,” Zola chimed in, hopping off the bed and coming over to them. “I can play with her and keep her entertained, and I can give her a bottle or put her down for a nap, too.”

“Me too, except that I don't do diapers,” Bailey said as everyone laughed.

“Don't worry guys, I'll do all the diaper changes,” Jo assured him as she reached out to ruffle his long blonde hair.

“Can I sleep in here with you, Auntie Jo?” Ellis asked, she had already crawled up on Jo's bed and was happily lying against the pillows.

She had always crawled up on their bed whenever Jo and Alex babysat her at the Loft. Jo had no doubt that Ellis would do exactly as her mom used to do and slip into Jo’s bed in the middle of the night.

“We’ll see Ellie-Belly,” Jo said, giving her a wink before she looked around the room again. “Thank you for doing this. It means a lot to me, to both of us.”

She looked over at her two best friends who were like her family and they would be Luna’s family too. She smiled down at Luna, who was eagerly looking around, and walked over to the crib, she gave the mobile a light spin, turning the stars and planets, and it quickly got her attention. Luna stared at it for a second before she caught Jo’s eye and stared up at her, and opened her mouth as if she was smiling and Jo smiled too.

“Welcome home, my Little Moon.”

#jo wilson #grey's anatomy #grey's anatomy fanfic #meredith grey #cormac hayes #atticus lincoln #zola grey shepherd #derek bailey shepherd #ellis shepherd #luna ashton #jo and luna #my fanfiction #my work #my writing #luna wilson

18 notes · View notes

tg-headcanons · 3 years

Note

What about Shirazu's sister's illness? Can you talk about symptoms, treatment and cure? I've always been curious about, ((and I really want to write about, but my knowledge is limited to Grey's anatomy)) and I'm sorry for sending you a bunch of questions XD

ROS! I’ve been meaning to talk about my Headcanons on this! And don’t ever apologize for asks, I love them!

Humans on average have an RC count of between 200-500, when they’re healthy at least. RC cells in humans carry oxygen and help heal over wounds, but are otherwise as overlooked as any other regular bodily function. There’s problems that arise when they produce too little, RC Under Secretion, which causes anemia and slows healing but is not nearly as dangerous. ROS however is very rare and very deadly

Both humans and ghouls produce RC from their bone marrow, but only ghouls have a kakuhou. That kakuhou produces most of their RC and stores the extra that doesn’t fit in the RC pathways or bloodstream. They also have a larger RC pathway system, giving the body more space to contain them. Humans however have a small RC pathway system and no kakuhou, so if they produce more RC, it has nowhere to go

Overproduction is hereditary. If the parents have high RC the kids will likely be as high or higher. Sometimes they overproduce from birth, sometimes the overproduction gene activated after a large injury kicks the cellular reproduction system into overdrive, but whatever causes it, it’s something that needs to be monitored. It’s okay to have a count of 500, high to have a count of 800, but around 1000 is where someone is considered at risk. When it’s caught here it can be stopped, they just take some oral RC suppression supplements. Unfortunately due to artificial scarcity caused by the CCG’s monopoly on production, they’re pretty expensive and a lot of people with high RC just can’t afford it. Usually it’s fine because developing the disorder is rare, but sometimes it isn’t

Once pre-ROS develops into full blown ROS, it’s too late. It first starts causing high blood pressure, RC cells to leak into other bodily fluids, stomach upset, and eventually it starts forming a kagune cyst. You see, with so much RC and no kakuhou to contain and control it, there’s no way to tell it to stop. That cyst keeps getting bigger as more is produced, and eventually the person is weighed down and has such bad brain fog from it that they need to be hospitalized full time

Once someone has ROS, that’s it. It’s a chronic illness, there’s no way to bring RC production down once it reaches this point. It can’t be cured, only kept at bay. It could be fine but of course capitalism strikes again. The CCG’s patent on the process to produce RC suppressants is undisputed and they lie to the public about how much money and time it takes to make, so they can keep the prices high. It’s like insulin on crack, the price is completely unregulated and makes the condition more deadly than it should be.

There are some treatments, but they’re expensive too. Bone marrow transplants from people with low production, blood transfusions, but nothing that changes much. Even removing the kagune cysts doesn’t stop them from coming back

Unbeknownst to the public, there is an effective and affordable treatment, and it’s been practiced for hundreds of years in cultures where humans and ghouls got along before Europe came along and ruined it. It’s sort of like dialysis but with a living ghoul. Hook up a human with ROS’s bloodstream to a ghoul of the same RC type with some IV tubes for awhile and most of the RC will get collected in their kakuhou. Ghoul blood isn’t too harmful to humans and can be safely transplanted into them, so the process works. It’s a mutually beneficial method that helps the human keep their RC down for awhile and the ghoul get more. Sure it doesn’t cure it, but doing it once a month lets them live their lives with few symptoms

After ghouls are decriminalized and the CCG no longer has a monopoly on ghoul research, a massive breakthrough is found. The whole problem with ROS is that they don’t have a kakuhou to contain and control the cells, so just put one in! It’s an invasive surgery and a difficult process, but once it’s done, it’s gone. They can live their lives as healthy ghouls, and these days it isn’t too bad.

As you can imagine, Shirazu was pacing outside of the operating room the whole time his sister was in it, stressed out of his mind. But when she woke up fully aware and with her face already healing, he was so glad he signed off on it. All this ghoul biology still freaks him out sometimes, but his sister is healthy and happy again, and he can bond with her over learning to use their kagune

#tokyo ghoul #tokyo ghoul headcanon #tw medical #shirazu ginshi #Haru shirazu

16 notes · View notes

daddychims · 4 years

Text

Offside Pt15

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15

Series Masterlist!

Genre: Smut, Soccer AU, College AU

Pairings: Soccer Player! Jungkook X Sports Trainer! Reader

Word Count: 2k

Other BTS members all make a cameo as well because I’m an OT7 Trash!

You work as a sports trainer, providing basic first aid and injury management for the Hanguk University’s soccer team. Going with your mundane life of caring for the dozen of guys hurting themselves in the soccer game takes a turn when one of the guys catches your eyes. It’s not his breathtakingly good looks or his muscular athletic body usually seducing girls at the campus that catches your eyes. But the action plan in your kit, indicating he is diagnosed with Asthma is what draws your eyes time and time again to the Golden Boy of Hanguk University.

Warning: Slow burn, eventual smut, Taehyung being a freaking tease the whole time, Also Jimin not letting the female MC live for one day, Fuckboy!Jungkook, Asthmatic! Jungkook , mentions of episodes of Asthma, Take your Ventolin kids, Take your medications kids!

P.S. the final member made a cameo (or should I say honorary mention?) , everyone please welcome Mr Min Yoongi!

“Do I get to finally taste some of your placebo effect?”

You watch as the guy’s lips curls on one side to a slight smirk, pushing you against the doorframe and locking you between his half naked figure and the frame

“J-Jimin,” you gasp pushing against the guy’s bare chest “I need to wash up before dinner!”

“My dinners served right here,” he retorts as he presses his forehead against yours “Where would I go when my full course meal is standing right here ready for me to eat her up.”

“Jimin,” you scold in an authoritative tone “Joon and Jiwoo are waiting for us!”

“Babe, why are you so tense, you just gotta let go and indulge a bit,” he sighs as he moves his head down to your chin, pressing a gentle kiss on the soft skin under your lips “, my tongue skills has never disappointed anyone and you’re not gonna be a first!”

You gulp as a rush of arousal shoots between your legs, biting your lips to deny the temptations of giving in to the guy’s seductive words but the earlier images of Jungkook warning you against Jimin tugs on your heart.

“I’m hungry,” you reply firmly, shifting to move away from him and watch him part his lips to respond but you immediately predict his next words “and not hungry for you Park! LIKE GENIUNLY HUNGRY!”

“Fine, I don’t know if you heard but the menu is my delicious chicken curry,” He chuckles, his moon shaped eyes disappearing as he moves away from you “I’ll let you go on one condition!”

“What?” you raise an eyebrow

“Joonie hyung said you give killer massages,” he smirks viciously “and our club’s physio thinks I would really benefit from some massage.”

“You’re telling me none of your booty calls are capable of rubbing your neck for you!” you roll your eyes as you walk to the sink to wash your hand

“They’re just good at rubbing one off, but not really my neck” he rests his hand on the doorframe “somewhere down south!”

You glance at him pointing at his dick which the towel is doing a mediocore job of hiding and roll your eyes “Off course they would!” you snicker as you turn the tap off and move to walk pass him

“So, are we on?” He asks as he follows you, not caring that he’s about to walk in the living room literally half naked “Am I getting one of your killer massages or not?”

“I’ll see,” you turn around stopping him as you face him “If you behave, like a good boy,” A slight smile plasters on your lips as your hands travels to his blonde hair to stroke the silky strands “then I might consider.”

“Mhmmm,” he raises an eyebrow, “So you’re into good boys huh?” his eyes darken as he takes a step forward and murmurs “Then why the fuck were you messing around with a guy like Yoongi Hyung?”

Your eyes widen and you immediately step back, expression hardening but he stops you by holding around your waist “How-How do you know?”

“Relax,” he soothes “Yoongi Hyung was SNU soccer team’s wildcard before setting off for nationals,” he explains softly “Hanguk’s Nerd and SNU’s Jock, your story is one of the campus favourite love stories.”

“Failed love story,” you correct with a cold tone “If you haven’t heard the ending, I’ll let tell you, Min Yoongi cheated on me,” you add with a tone dripping with venom “Which was a good lesson for me to not mess around with guys like him anymore!”

“Mhmm guys like him …” Jimin’s voice trails off as he stares at you for a few seconds in silence, as if he’s trying to figure you out “Explains why you’ve been playing so hard to get!”

“Now you know Park,” you flash a bitter smile “Keep it moving and go make your love story with another girl,” you hesitate before adding “One that is still stupid enough to believes there is a happy ending with guys like you and Min Yoongi.”

You turn on your heels but his words stop you “I just want my massage,” he calls and you look back at him with an annoyed expression “I’ll be a good boy!” he throws his hand up in the air as a sign of succumbing to you

“Get dressed and let’s have dinner first!”

“Yes Ma’am.” He salutes with a naughty tone before running down the hallway like a little boy

You sigh and turn around towards the living room where Jiwoo and Joon are already indulging in the chicken curry Jimin cooked

“Hurry up,” Joon calls with mouth full of food “It’s getting cold, where is Park?”

“Getting dressed,” you mutter through gritted teeth “maybe you should have told me he’s naked in the shower when I was heading to bathroom.”

“Sorry I forgot,” he shrugs as he jams another mouthful of rice and curry in his mouth “It’s not like you don’t see naked guys at you at work all the time.”

“So …” Jiwoo interrupts as you scoop some curry into your plate “You and Jeon huh?”

“JOON!” You cry and the guy immediately chokes on his food, developing a coughing fit immediately “You’re fucking useless!” you cry in rage

“don’t scold him,” Jiwoo glares at you as he hands a cup of water to her boyfriend “you’re useless for not telling me that you’re about to get some of that Golden dick? Why? You thought I’ll ask you to share?”

“Hey Hey,” Joon knocks on the table with a raspy voice, scolding Jiwoo “You young lady, you’re not thirsting over dick when I’m sitting here all healthy and ready to serve you!”

“I was just saying,” Jiwoo rolls her eyes “The point is this little snake is fucking Hanguk’s Golden Dick and is not telling me- “

“who’s fucking Hanguk’s Golden dick?” Jimin walks in the living room and you immediately motion to Jiwoo to shut up

“Nothing, this curry is actually good- “you try to change the subject, but your dense friend is clueless to your effort

“She’s fucking Hanguk’s golden dick,” Jiwoo motions to you explaining to Jimin “AKA Jeon Jungkook!”

“Oh,” Jimin nods, glancing at you “Interesting, last time I asked her she denied!”

“Wait, how did you know?” Joon asks with a confused tone

“Last time we were playing billiard, Jeon was eating her up with his eyes,” Jimin explains with a casual tone “Then he and his stupid friend pulled this shit of betting with me over driving her home,” he hesitates as he munches on his bread “the guy’s pretty aggressive!”

“Didn’t I tell you to take her home?” Joon throws a piece of bread at Jimin before glancing at you “So this has been going for a while!”

“First of all, I can get my ass home just fine, you don’t need to assign your minions to take care of me,” you glance at Jimin and quickly mutter “Second of all, NOTHING HAS BEEN GOING ON! Just because you all can’t keep your coochie in your pants like some hormonal teenagers doesn’t mean I can’t either!”

“They’re boning,” Jimin immediately replies following your statement

“I agree,” Jiwoo reaches to high five him “The fact that she’s denying it so hard, proves it all more!”

“I don’t care if you’ve fucked him or not,” Joon adds “You’re stopping it right here, right now!” he warns before glancing at Jimin “And you, next time I assign you to take care of her, you stick to her and don’t leave her side until I say so.”

“Yes Captain,” Jimin’s grin widens as he wraps his arms around you “Got the field all covered, Jeon wouldn’t even get past the midfield to make the goal.”

“I am doing just fine not boning Jeon,” you swat his hand away as you glare at your best friend “Also it’s not like your little minion is any better than Jeon!”

“Darling, I’m sitting right here,” Jimin raises an eyebrow “That’s the second time you’ve insulted my height and I can only take so much.”

“You called me a field like I’m some sort of a fucking ball game!” you spit back at the guy in disbelief

“This is why I’m not worried about him,” Joon chimes in “You two probably kill each other before actually get to the action. In my risk analysis he’s less dangerous than Jeon at this point.”

“Your risk analysis can suck my non-existent dick!” you throw a napkin at him

“I don’t care what you say,” Joon declares firmly “Jeon is a no no, I can lend you the whole SNU’s soccer club if you need to get laid, but Jeon is too risky for you. Stay away from him.”

“Thanks for the advice grandpa,” you roll your eyes “Keep your SNU boys to yourself.”

“You can always have me all to yourself baby,” Jimin leans in to whisper against your ears when you bring the knife up close to him

“Behave Park! I have a knife in my hand!”

You sigh as he laughs and shifts away from you and all of you continue eating your dinner in peace.

You look at the guy gasping for air as he crouches down against the wall, your shaking hands immediately looking through your kit as you find the can of supplemental oxygen and rush back to him. You don’t know how you got yourself to the office when the coach told you Jeon left the game half time because he wasn’t feeling well and asked you to check on him before Dr. Kim arrives because it looked kind of serious.

You immediately made a phone call to Dr Kim as you ran with your life to the office where you hoped you’d find the guy. When you entered the office you found the guy plastered against the wall, coughing for his life, his lips parted and gasping for air, a layer of sweat on his forehead and tears in his eyes sending you to a full on panic on all the sign and symptoms of a fight or flight response you could recognize.

You kneel against him, bringing the mouthpiece to his lips “On the count of three, take a deep breath in for me-“

Your gaze falters as he slaps the can away from him and brings his dark gaze to you

“J-Jeon-“

“I don’t need your pity,” he says through gritted teeth “Get out of my face.”

“I called Dr.Kim, he told me to give you some oxygen while we wait on him,” You mutter, anger taking over your words but trying really hard to stay calm “I’ll get fired if he arrives and knows I haven’t done my job!”

“Wouldn’t that be good for you?” He scoffs raising an eyebrow “Maybe you can get a job at SNU and suck Park Jimin’s dick full time.”

“W-What?” you furrow your eyebrows “What are you talking about-“

“You went riding his dick right after you were about to fuck me IN MY FUCKING ROOM,” he raises his voice “I saw how you were straddling him on Jiwoo Nuna’s Instagram.”

Your head starts running like a clock and you feel your breath hitching in your throat, you never noticed Jiwoo taking a picture of you. But knowing the girl is a social media guru you weren’t surprised hearing she posted a photo of you giving Jimin a neck massage. And to anyone who wasn’t there that night, specially the guy sitting against you it would look as if you were doing things other than just a therapeutic massage.

“I- “you part your lips “I didn’t- “

“So, it’s just me isn’t it?” He raises an eyebrow “Whenever I fucking touch you, you push me away and act all virgin Mary,” He scoffs “But You don’t have a problem humping Park Jimin’s cock like a whore, Do you?”

“Jungkook, J-Just please stop talking! “ you sigh “I can explain, it’s not what you’re thinking-”

“Is it because I’m sick?”

Your eyes widen as you look at him, trying to figure out if you actually heard him wrong “What?”

“Is it because of my asthma?” He asks, glaring at you, tears and hurt plastered on his expression “Is that why you’re turned off by me?”

“J-Jeon …” you sigh his name, heart beating fast in your chest as you try to digest his words

“What could be the reason then?” his eyes roams around the room as he lists the reasons “I’m taller than him, hotter than him, play better soccer, Fuck even my dick’s bigger than that 3 inch and you fucking know it,” he brings his hooded gaze to you “No matter how much I think about it, It’s my Asthma, that must be it!”

Your heart starts aching in your chest, all you want to do is to press your lips against the guy’s quivering lips, kissing him until you prove to him that whatever story he’s painting is not real. That you’ve never perceived him any less attractive just because of his condition. That if Joon wasn’t on your ass since the night you were at his place, you probably would have fucked him already.

But you can’t do that, and you know it very well, that if you confess that you’ve been attracted to the guy you would enter a dangerous territory that you know is risky. More important than that you can’t go against your promise with your best friend and mess with the guy he warned you against.

“I- “you gulp looking at him as you try to form the sentence but the door snaps open, revealing Dr. Kim who rushes in

“I’m here!” he declares, and you quickly distance yourself from the guy, sighing in relief

#jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x female reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts jungkook x reader #jungkook x oc #jungkook scenario #BTS jungkook #jungkook soccer player #jungkook soccer au #jungkook soccer #jungkook smut #offside #daddychims

248 notes · View notes