#I wrote this while medicated ok

[puptrefied]

i don't mean to say this in a "omg I'm so her lol XDD I'm so crazyyy" way, I hate that, I mean it in a "holy shit that's accurate" way. ( it also won't make sense bc I'm having trouble remembering some things about the series )

I genuinely love how jinx is written in arcane because they made aspects of her mental illness so real.

and I'm not talking just from her deep, deep depression in season 2 act 3 ( I think ); I'm talking about how she was clearly very unstable since she was a child. hitting herself while crying and destroying the stuff she was proud of after realizing that it wasn't enough for others. the hurt of being told by the person she trust the most that she's not ready yet, the way it confirmed what mylo said about her being a jinx and messing everything up.

she, in her own innocence and want of proving herself, willingly climbed up the building she knew vander and the others were at.

then, after all that happened, one might thing she's used to hallucinations—by the way she talks to them like they're actually there, but no. you can't fully get used to it. you can see it by the way she has to stop and try her best to push it aside and not be affected by the stuff she hears and sees because it makes her unable to think on her own.

sometimes it gets so hard to understand they're not real. I mean, you know that it's in your head but why does it feel so real? why am I hearing their voice like they're sitting right next to me? why does it make me feel like this?

I also like that they make the hallucinations sound like actual hallucinations. in my case it also sounds like memories sometimes and not just the aggressive, hateful whispers most movies represent them as. it's not always a voice telling you to kill yourself !!

you can see them progressively get more and more overwhelming as her life gets worse while finding out stuff that brings back painful stuff from the past. mylo who was simply a voice now is also fully visual. hunting her down on every thought.

and don't get me started on the psychotic episodes.

season two was just WOAH.

the way you can feel the emptiness just by looking at her eyes is amazing. you can see and feel how numb she is and how she stops trying.

her life seemed to start getting better. she had vander, vi, isha and even sevika had a better relationship with her but like everything in her life it all went to shit.

doesn't matter how but she's always finding a way to give up. even at the cell she's starving herself to death, scratching on her skin and then attempting on her life like she has probably done countless times.

I wanna clarify that self harm is not only about physically damaging yourself, is also about putting yourself through triggering stuff on purpose or staying in a place you know hurts you. forcing something with someone who only makes you miserable might also count.

I felt it so deep in my heart when she tells vi that she can stop worrying now, that she shouldn't feel guilty and be happy. her expression alone shows you how she's also carrying the blame for many things, if not all that happened.

seeing suicide as the only way to stop being a burden and keep causing trouble is such a real thing to have in my mind and it made me bawl my eyes out.

at the end when she finally understands that she's the only one than can break the cycle, just like silco ( or well, her mind ) told her, you can see peace on her face that you can't see in any other moment. after all she went through she was able to know that maybe it's not that they don't want her near or she's burden, maybe she's the one who wants to cut ties and live another life away from the past and all the things that hunt her down constantly.

a new beginning that she saw impossible.

[writingunderneathawillow]

protective (Logan howlett x fem!reader)

content warnings: sfw + nsfw (graphic, safe word, aftercare), minors look away word count: 762 a/n: i’m such a sucker for logan atm, especially protective logan so here are some head canons

sfw logan positioning himself between you and every. other. person. no matter who walks by, whether they’re even looking at you or not, logan shifts in front of you or pulls you behind him no one would ever be able to reach you the second logan towers before you, sharp eyes set on anyone who passes you even in moments of calm in the mansion, he makes sure that any potential impact can be absorbed by him. busy students who have to catch their next class on time and aren’t mindful of their surroundings? logan has an arm wrapped around you, keeping you between him and the wall. hank comes up to you to talk about grading papers? well, he’ll just have to have that conversation with you while peering over logan’s shoulder to catch sight of you. clothes were a sensitive topic. you didn’t like it when he told you what to wear and what not to wear and he didn’t like it when you were unhappy with him, so he truly tried to keep it to a minimum. only every now and then, he’d raise an eyebrow at a pair of shorts or a deep cut shirt, displaying what he clearly considered his and only his. a short glance of his was usually enough to make you sigh and change into something he deemed more appropriate – but often enough you put your foot down. then he’d simply hover by your side for the rest of the day, adjusting the fabric over your chest every now and then or pulling your skirt down a little, stepping behind you when you picked something up from the ground. he loved you drunk. he loved you sober more but something about you in this endearing state, stumbling over your own feet and giggling at things you’d usually roll your eyes at, it really got to him. he would put his arm around you, keeping you upright and tightly pressed to his side. at the end of the night, he’d place a soft kiss on your forehead after making you drink a glass of water and already put down a bottle of tylenol for you on the bedside table. no funny business when you were that intoxicated even though the flush of the alcohol in your cheeks warmed his core more than he could handle. you’re ill? logan’s just studied medicine within seconds. he looks like a walking infirmary, packs of tissues and cough drops in every pocket, ready to whip out whatever you need the second you’re feeling just the tiniest bit off. the way that man attempts to make soup, only to then have to resort to store bought broth. but hey, points for trying! he knows when you have to take your medication and keeps an eye on you, making sure you actually do it. tender words of adoration leave his lips when you feel bad, he’d do anything to soothe away all traces of illness

nsfw (bye bye minors) logan is an animal in bed. you’re lucky if you can walk the next day, feeling your insides rearranged and shaped to every indent of his cock :) but he never goes beyond your limits. he constantly checks in when you’re high on his touch, when he’s finger deep in you, when he splits you in half he loves to see your eyes well up when your lips are wrapped around his massive length, taking him as deep into your throat as possible and can’t help but put a tender hand on your cheek to wipe away any tears that spill safe word usage (a/n: i wrote a drabble about this hehehe) you have a safe word with him and you’ve only had to make use of it once he made you pick it out the first time you slept together, insisting that he would feel more comfortable if you chose one and so you did. the second the word left your lips, he stopped moving. “you ok, baby? i’m just gonna pull out, darlin’.” afterwards, he’s so sweet. bringing you a shirt and softly kissing your forehead. thanking you for telling him, for trusting him to stop, ensuring that he’s proud of you for vocalising your boundaries aftercare king, i won’t hear anyone out the second he slips out of you, he rests a soothing hand on your tummy, your head, any part of you, stroking softly over your heated skin. he makes you drink water, checks in and kisses any bruises, love bites and hickeys that his strong grip left on you

thank you for reading :) gentle reminder that likes are more than appreciated but comments and reblogs make the dream work

[withahappyrefrain]

Ok hear me out. I just saw your 60 Meet Cutes list and, I know you already technically kind of wrote a fic about Bob being high off his meds after a training exercise puts him in the hospital. But I saw #5) A is a doctor/nurse treating B for an injury, but B won't stop flirting, and all I can think of is Bobby high of his rocker following an injury/surgery after a training exercise gone wrong and all he keeps doing is flirt with his doctor. And the dagger squad was visiting him post-surgery and they’re all cackling from the normally quiet Bob rizzing up his doctor. And then maybe that’s how he meets his wife 😂

Working at the Naval Medical Center meant several things.

One, there would always be patients. Whether it was the soldiers themselves or their family. Primary care, immediate care, your workplace did it all.

Second, no injury was too abnormal. A patient’s needs could range from needing a sling due to falling in the middle of bootcamp to delivering a baby.

Third and most importantly, don’t fall for a patient. The chances of them being married were high, plus it made things complicated.

You were doing a great job at following all three. Until today.

Lieutenant Commander Robert Floyd was a WSO for the Navy. He and his pilot had to eject from their jet during training due to a bird strike. While he got out of the jet okay, it was the landing that got him. His left arm was definitely sprained and he had a fractured rib. Combined with all the bruising that littered his left side, needless to say he was in a lot of pain. Thankfully, he didn’t need surgery, but he did need quite the cocktail of pain medication.

No amount of bruising could hide his handsome face. It was the first thing you noticed when you walked into his room. His long lashes fanned his face. Faded freckles scattered across his face and neck, like constellations. You had seen him before, visiting other pilots and checking in on their family members. Even spoke to him a few times when he asked how they were doing. But never anything in depth.

When he was first brought in, he was barely conscious. You had explained to him what was happening, that they were putting him under to do a full body inspection. He had looked up at you with those big blue eyes and God, he was just so cute. You could admire how cute a patient was, nothing wrong with that, right?

At the sound of the door opening, his eyelids fluttered open, revealing eyes bluer than sapphires.

“Hi Mr. Floyd. Are you doing alright?” Your voice was lithe and gentle, he was still waking up after all. He mumbled something in response.

“What was that Mr. Floyd?” Moving closer, you hoped you could hear him better. It totally wasn’t to admire how cute he was. No, not at all.

“’m Bob,” His words were slow, but clearer, “Mr. Floyd’s my dad.”

“Bob it is,” you couldn’t help but giggle, “I’m just checking in on you, see if the medication is working. I’m going to help you sit up, alright?”

Bob nodded, his eyes never leaving your face. Placing your chart down on the nightstand, you gingerly helped him sit up, just enough to do your job.

“This is an important day f’me,” there was a slight twang, complimenting the richness of his voice.

“Oh really now?” Already, you were creating a list of possibilities; birthday, partner’s birthday, anniversary-

“Yeah. Not every day you’re touched by an angel,” a soft, droopy smile graced his face as he looked up at you.

Oh.

It was far from the first time a patient had flirted with you. But it was the first time it had sent a warm rush throughout your body.

“That’s um, very kind of you Mr. Floyd-”

“Bob,” he corrected.

“That’s very kind of you Bob. But I’m no angel. I’m actually about to do some things that may hurt,” you warned.

Bob was quite coherent while you checked his vitals. He answered all your questions with great ease, even had some questions for you. It felt more like a first date than checking a patient-

No, you couldn't think like that.

“Alright Bob, it's time to check your injuries. Let me know if any of the places I touch cause me pain,” you warned.

His brows furrowed in concern, “But I…I haven't taken you out to dinner yet.”

Holy shit, he was darling.

You began at his shoulders. He watched your nimble fingers move about. “You don’t have a ring,” he stated. Probably should have asked that before referencing taking you on a date but again. Meds.

“Um no, I don’t.” Usually pain medication would cause some patients to be blunt, to make odd statements. Usually, you could ignore it and continue on with your responsibilities.

“Well that’s stupid. How has someone not married you yet?” Just ignore him, just keep working.

“Well,” you laughed nervously, “That is a whole can of worms that I doubt you want open. Does it hurt here Bob?”

“No. But how has someone not married you yet? You’re so sweet and smart and patient, also funny too. I still laugh when I think about how you told Jake to sit down and shut up a few months ago. What am I not getting?”

“Well,” you sighed, “For starters, I work long and unusual hours.”

“So do I,” He replied. His body was deceivingly muscular, smooth and firm. Not even a hospital gown could hide it and holy crap, that was so inappropriate.

“So as a result, not a lot of people see me as dateable. I also just moved to the area less than a year ago and it’s been hard finding people,” you confessed, trying to swallow the bitter pill as you moved to his arms. It was easier since you had his huge biceps to focus on.

“Well, those people are stupid. If you care about someone, you’d make it work.”

“I wish more people thought like that. How is it here? Any pain?” You slightly dug your fingers into his sides, watching his face for any reaction. Bob Floyd either had a high pain tolerance or he was high as balls. You guessed it was the latter, given how he could barely shake his head.

“Is there any part of your body that’s in pain Bob?” You asked, fighting the urge to push back the strands of sandy brown hair that had fallen over his forehead. Bob nodded and grabbed your hand. He placed it over his heart.

“Your-your heart?” Panic rose in your voice, if he was experiencing pain in his chest, that meant you needed to alert the cardiologist and the-

“Doesn’t so much as hurt. Just starts beating real fast whenever I see you. I also forget how to breathe when I see ya too, but I know that’s due to your beauty,” He explained, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

Without breaking eye contact, he brought your hand up to his mouth and kissed your wrist. His lips were soft and warm. You were a goner. Yes, it was all slightly cheesy and it totally worked. You prayed he couldn’t tell that you were flustered, that your body felt warm all over, that butterflies were exploding in your stomach.

“Since when the fuck do you have game Bobby?” You were thankful for the voice that interrupted. Turning around, you saw a group of pilots standing at the doorway, holding cards and flowers.

“Um, are you friends of Lieutenant Floyd?” Even your voice was shaky, the professional composure that always got you compliments in med school now completely gone.

“We’re friends, and I apologize for my coworker’s outburst,” You recognized the mustached pilot, having seen him a few months ago when his wife delivered their first child. Lieutenant Bradshaw.

“Oh please, I know you’re just as shocked as I am to see Bob finally making a move on the woman he’s been crushing on for months,” The blonde pilot retorted, completely oblivious to the glares he was receiving from the other pilots.

“I said I was waiting for the right time!” Bob hadn’t let go of your hand, “I know it should have been sooner. I’m sorry.”

“Um, Lieutenant Floyd isn’t ready for visitors yet. Could you please move to the waiting area?” Letting go of Bob’s hand caused him to form an adorable pout with his pink lips.

Once the group has gotten out of your hair, you look around the room, frazzled. Grabbing his chart, you began checking things off.

“Alright, minimal pain though we’ll check again later when your medication has worn off. Heart rate is normal, as is your blood pressure and-”

“I'm sorry,” looking up, there was Bob with a concerned expression written all over his face.

“Oh Mr. Floyd, you're fine. I know you're on a lot of different medications and that causes people to act-”

“I shouldn't have waited so long to talk to you. Was just so nervous because you're so beautiful and kind.”

Good lord, this man was going to be the death of you. The fact he was so sweet, so endearing when he said all these things. It didn't feel sleazy, it felt genuine.

But it couldn't be that. It was due to the medicine. So you'd just have to play along.

“Don't worry about it Bob. There's always tomorrow. Or, in your case, three days after tomorrow.” The comment got a laugh out of Bob, revealing a melodic giggle.

“You mean it? I can ask you out after I rest?” His eyes were now full of hope and excitement.

Nodding, you decided to not add if you remember it. Once the pain medication had worn off, Bob wouldn't remember a thing.

But his friends mentioned a crush that had been developing long before today.

Maybe…..

*************

“I am so sorry.”

You stopped dead in your tracks, surprised to find Bob sitting up in the hospital bed, face redder than a tomato.

“Um, good morning Bob! How are we feeling today?” You walked over to the bed, looking at his vitals.

“Mortified. The way I acted towards you yesterday was so…..God, I'm so embarrassed,” he buried his face into his hands, “If I've- scratch that, I know I offended you yesterday. I made you so uncomfortable and I'm so sorry.”

You thought about his friends’ words, what they said when you came out of the room.

“Yeah, he’s usually not that….bold. But honestly, good for him, he’s been pining after you for months.”

“Without all those meds, he’s still sweet. Just not as talkative.”

Bob continued to ramble, failing to notice how you were using the clipboard to hide a huge grin, “My momma would be so ashamed of me right now. My sisters would be smacking me upside the head. You’re a doctor and a darn good one at that and I just acted like such a…..why are you smiling?”

“Because I think you’re cute. Like super, incredibly cute. I've thought that ever since I saw you here four months ago to check on Lieutenant Garcia.” Your confession made Bob's eyes widen.

“And I was hoping that after you’ve had your three days of mandated rest, maybe we could go out to dinner?” You paused, “Now that I think about it, we should wait four to five days. I’d feel really bad if I caused a patient to reinjure himself.”

A slightly crooked and small smile appeared on Bob’s face, “Do you like Italian food?”

[no-goodbyes-no-regrets]

Based on Oliver mentioning Buck and Jee baking together in an upcoming ep.

(I wrote this on my phone so it's not the greatest)

now also on AO3

---

"Is it someone's birthday?" Maddie asked, running through all of their friends and relatives in her mind, trying to figure out if she forgot a birthday.

"No." Buck shook his head and kept pulling ingredients out of the fridge and his kitchen cabinets.

"Ok... What's the occasion then?" she asked when he didn't elaborate.

"It's for Tommy. "

"Oh, is it his birthday?"

"No, not for a few weeks."

"Right. So this is a practice run?"

"What? No. I found the recipe online, but it's easy enough."

"Ok..."

"He likes cake."

"Ok."

Buck sighed and rolled his eyes at his sister before glancing up in the direction of the loft's bedroom.

"He's had a rough couple of days. He had to make an emergency landing because of bad weather yesterday and the ambulance couldn't get to them fast enough and they lost the patient."

"That was him? Josh took that call and he was exhausted from stress by the end of shift."

Buck nodded.

"Tommy too. And he was hurting all over last night. He never takes any pain medication but he took two ibuprofen and a hot shower and crashed into bed."

"Are you sure you're alright to take Jee for the afternoon then? I can ask Mrs Lee or see if she can go play with her friend Emily from down the road. "

"It's fine." Buck told her and turned to Jee. "You're my sous chef aren't you? Are you going to help me today?"

"Yeah!" the girl yelled happily.

"But we have to be quiet ok? Tommy is sleeping upstairs and we don't want to wake him. He needs to sleep because he's sick."

Jee nodded solemnly to show she understood.

"But we're going to surprise him with cake so he'll feel better soon, right?"

"Yeah!" she yelled again, making her mother and uncle laugh.

"At least she's enthusiastic." Maddie tried and bent down to hug and kiss her daughter goodbye. "You be good for uncle Buck, me or daddy will pick you up tonight ok?"

"Ok mommy!" Jee said and climbed up onto the stool next to the kitchen counter.

"Go. We'll be fine." Buck assured her, wrapping an arm around Jee to keep her safe.

After Maddie had left, Buck gave Jee an old shirt of his to wear as apron, made her wash her hands, and the two of them got to work.

He tried to let her do as much as possible while still making sure everything was going to plan and she wouldn't hurt herself.

Before long the cake was in the oven and they started the clean up.

"And when it's done baking, we let it cool off a little and then we can put the icing on and decorate it with these." he showed Jee the assortment of sprinkles he kept in his kitchen for her.

Jee nodded happily and started planning out her sprinkles masterpiece.

Buck looked up towards the bedroom area and listened for a sign of life from his boyfriend.

When he didn't hear anything, he decided to put Jee in front of the TV and go check on him. Tommy was fast asleep, rolled up in the duvet like a human burrito, and didn't seem to have woken up since Buck had made him eat something that morning.

Satisfied everything was ok, he went back downstairs and let Jee tell him all about the cartoon she was watching, until the cake was ready for decoration.

"Which ones do you want to put on first? Pink or gold?"

"Gold!"

"Alright, gold it is. Put it on where you think is best." Buck told her. "But not too much, we need to leave room for the other colours. And we can put your name on it. And mine."

"And uncle Tommy." she decided and Buck froze for a second.

Sure Tommy and Jee had met and he'd explained to her that Tommy was to him what mommy and daddy were to each other, and he was pretty sure she'd understood, but to hear her call him uncle Tommy, that was new.

Jee didn't seem to notice just how much she'd just turned his world upside down and was babbling about what colour sprinkles should go where.

"Pink here for the heart." she decided and Buck wondered when they'd agreed on heart shaped decorations.

"Right, yeah, that... that works." he let Jee draw a heart in pink sprinkles and dutifully wrote his and Tommy's names in it. "And where should I write your name?"

Jee thought for a minute and studied the cake but then shook her head.

"No name."

"What? Are you sure?"

"Yeah." Jee said like it was the most obvious thing in the world and put some sugar stars across the top half of the cake, above the heart with their names. "That's the sky. With stars."

"Oh wow, that's beautiful miss Jee, did you make that?"

Buck jumped a little when he suddenly heard his boyfriend's voice behind him and felt a hand on his waist.

"Uncle Buck helped" Jee told Tommy.

"Did he now? I'm sure you did all of the important work." Tommy said and gave her a conspiratory wink before turning to Buck and stealing a small kiss. "Hey." he greeted him softly.

"H-hey... Did we wake you?"

Tommy shook his head.

"It's fine. Had to get up eventually."

"Feeling better yet?"

Tommy shrugged and sat down at the kitchen island.

"I'm alright." he just said, which wasn't really an answer but Buck decided to let it go for now.

"Uncle Tommy, it's for you. You need to come look!" Jee insisted, pointing at the cake.

Tommy met Buck's eyes over her head and mouthed "Uncle Tommy?" at him.

Buck shrugged and smiled.

"Uncle Tommy, come see!" Jee said again, a little louder this time, clearly getting fed up with the adults in her life.

"Why don't you two come here and show me, and you can tell me what you made."

Buck helped her down from her stool and put the cake on the island in front of Tommy before helping Jee back on her stool, this time sitting next to Tommy who immediately put a hand on her back so she wouldn't fall off.

"This is the sky with the stars." she started like she was explaining the mysteries of the universe. "And you can fly to the stars."

Tommy laughed a little.

"I don't think I can go quite that high in my helicopter. But maybe I can show you how high I do go. When you're a little older. And your mommy and daddy are ok with it. Maybe uncle Evan will want to come too."

Jee-Yun turned to Buck and gave him an expectant look.

"Yeah, maybe." he settled on, trying to get his heart to calm down and not burst out of his chest hearing his boyfriend make plans with his niece. Even if she was only three and would probably have forgotten about it by the time she was old enough to even think about going up.

She seemed happy with that answer and turned back to Tommy to explain the rest of their creation.

"It's really amazing Jee, it's almost too pretty to eat don't you think?"

"No. You have to eat it. It's chocolate." she said as if that explained everything.

"Oh really? I do love chocolate." Tommy told her. "But can I take a picture of it before we eat it?" he reached into the pocket of his sweats only to realise he'd left his phone upstairs. "Evan, can you take a picture and send it to me?"

"Sure." he grabbed his phone and opened the camera. "You should be in the picture too, we made it for you after all."

Tommy dutifully posed with the cake, tilting the pan towards the camera so the decorations were clearly visible.

"And now one with the master chef herself." he put the cake back down on the table and moved a little closer to Jee so they'd both fit in the picture with the cake and Buck took a few pictures.

After that Jee insisted on having a photo shoot, and by the time Maddie came to pick her back up, his camera roll was filled with pictures of the three of them.

He showed a few to Maddie at Jee's insistence and set one of Tommy making a funny face at Jee as his new contact picture.

They said goodbye to Maddie and Jee-yun and settled on the sofa together, scrolling through the pictures and laughing at some of silly ones.

"I like this one." Buck said, stopping at a selfie of the two of them where Tommy had kissed his cheek at the last second.

"Yeah. Me too." Tommy said softly, not really looking at the picture. "Thanks. For today. For getting me out of my head."

Buck smiled and kissed him.

"Of course."

[iamthecomet]

YES YOU DO. BRING US THE FOOT!

🦶

Sooooo this took me a while because I maybe got carried away and I maybe wrote 1,500 words about it?? Anyway, 1.5k of Dew breaking his foot hurt/comfort/whatever this is, under the cut.

Dew feels the crack the moment it happens. The percussion of it rattling through him. His stomach churns. The pain doesn't really hit him until later. Later he'll wonder how he managed it for so long. How he didn't collapse right there. But show adrenaline, and sheer force of will keep him upright for far longer than seems necessary.

But when it all comes in on him—it closes in fast. He barely makes it back stage before he's collapsing, guided to a couch by a helpful crew member whose name he can't remember right now—that's weird—but really he can't think of anything except for the pain.

And, of course, worse than that, that he's let Papa down.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuck," Dew slides off his boot—it's agony. He finds his foot swollen, bruising. He leans back against the couch and resumes his string of swears.

It's bad. Actually bad. He knows he's done something that will take weeks or months to fix. Knows he will not bounce back and be traipsing around the stage again tomorrow.

He fucked up.

"Dew?"

Aeon's voice is soft from the doorway, he lingers in it like he wants to give Dew the agency to decide if he wants help or not. Rain doesn't allow him the same courtesy adn pushes past Aeon. He's on his knees in front of Dew and his battered foot before Dew or Aeon really register him.

Rain's hands are cold when they touch Dew—it's a relief. Dew almost leans into it—relaxes—but then Rain brushes those fingers over a spot that makes pain spark through him and he yelps. Rain let's go, apologizes.

"How?"

Dew shakes his head, he wishes he knew. One moment everything was fine, the next—this.

"Papa's got medics coming," Cirrus says from the doorway, leaning in. "He wants to know if you can keep your glamour up—"

"Of course I can keep my fucking glamour up, what does he think—"Dew spits, then cuts himself off. He's trying to give the new guy grace—it's hard. He's been through this too many times already. Cirrus—to her credit—doesn't take his outburst seriously and just nods.

"I told him that—he insisted."

"I'm fine, anyway, it's a sprain." Dew lies.

Aeon finally slips into the room, he sits next to Dew, close enough to touch but holding himself back.

"Do you want me to—"

Dew sighs, looks at him. "Yeah—I—you're better at this than Swiss right?"

Aeon nods. "I'm not Aether—I can't fix it—but I'm not going to make it worse."

Dew nods and then Aeon is touching him. Cool fingers brushing over his ankle. Dew feels the static of quintesence, and then the low pleasant buzz of it fills him, the pain fades. It doesn't disappear but it takes a backseat. Aeon pulls his fingers away just as the medics papa promised walk in.

Dew waits to be whisked away to a hospital—that seems like it's the most logical next step. But that doesn't happen.

They give him something for the pain—some sort of human drug that makes his brain turn to sludge. Everything else after that is muddy, murky. He doesn't think the drugs are supposed to do that—it's probably a reaction of them with Aeon's magic or Dew's magic. Or just that ghouls work differently than humans. Whatever it is—it doesn't matter.

Everything else is a blur. His pack puts him to bed in the hotel with strict instructions not to move a muscle. Papa peaks in on him from the door after, eyes dragging over him.

"Will you be ok for tomorrow—"

"I'm fine," Dew snaps, harsher than he means. He's glad he sounds a little drugged, sluggish, it dulls the annoyance in the words.

"I'm right next door if you need anything—"

"I'm fine," Dew says again. He's rooming with Cirrus—or at least he's supposed to be but she hasn't shown up yet. Papa gives him one more lingering look and then slips away, the door closes with a soft click behind him.

Dew sinks into the bed, starfishes, finally, mercifully alone. The pain drags through his bones, nagging. He tries to shift and finds his leg imobalized basically from the knee down.

"So fuckin' stupid," he growls to himself. As if it's his fault. He closes his eyes, throws one arm over it. Hopes that Cirrus stays with Aurora and Tempest tonight so he can wallow and rage alone.

He's barely had the thought when his phone is ringing on the bedside table. He ignores it. It rings again immediately.

He lets it ring through three times before he realizes whoever is calling him isn't going to fucking stop. It's probably Perpetua, or Swiss, or satan forbid fucking Copia checking up on him.

He fumbles for the phone blindly, presses it to his ear.

"What?"

"Dew…"

Aether.

Dew's heart stutters in his chest, the voice knocks the wind from him the way it always does. He didn't tell Aether—didn't text him. It's early in the morning back home and the last thing Dew wanted to do was wake him up with this. But Aether's voice is gravely with sleep and worry and it's like Dew can feel his concern in very foundations of the earth beneath him.

"Hey, Aeth. Sorry, thought you were Copia."

"You should have called me."

"It's a fracture.I didn't want to wake you." Dew shifts up in bed. "I'm fine."

"I don't care."

Dew groans, rubs his free hand over his face. "Aether—"

"No. Don't do that. You promised me you'd call after every show, Dew. You promised. You break it after two days? Cirrus had to tell me?"

"Snitch."

"Dewdrop."

Dew sighs. Half of him wishes Aether had video called him so he could look at him. So he could fix his face into something easy and unbothered and reassure Aether that everything, really, is fine. But at the same time, he's glad for the privacy. For the allowance to move and grimace and chew on his lip until it's raw while they talk.

"I didn't really have time to call you, they gave me painkillers—fucked me up. I thought about texting you but that seemed—I don't know—worse? I'm sorry," he relents, finally. "I'm sorry I'm clumsy and stupid and—"

"Stop."

Dew does, words dying. He feels Aether's word deep in his bones. He presses his lips together.

"I'm not—you think I'm mad that you got hurt?"

Dew lets out a harsh laugh. "That's what everyone's upset about. Perpetua's worried I'm not going to be able to play, or I'm going to drop my glamour in front of a paramedic or whatever. I fucked up and now—" Dew gestures to his foot like Aether can see it "I get to hobble around stage for however many weeks. That'll make a good show—"

"Fuck the show." Aether says. "I'm—Dew—Dew you promised you'd call and the second something goes wrong you just—don't? I was worried about you."

"You don't have to worry about me."

"I know I don't—but I do anyway. That's how it works." Aether's voice goes soft, easy. Dew feels it like a warm blanket. His throat burns, he blinks up at the ceiling to try to clear the tears.

"I can't do anything right, Aeth. Can't play a show without fucking up. Can't even do what you asked. Can't—"

"Enough. Just—" Aether takes a deep breath. Dew can picture him, propped up against his headboard, shirtless, the sun rising through the eastern window. He closes his eyes and pretends he's there with him. If he tries hard enough he can almost smell the lavender, the ozone, home.

"Just what?"

"Let's start over. Tell me about your day, like usual."

"You first," Dew says. "I went first last night."

Aether's chuckle is warm. Dew sinks down, into the bed. His phone vibrates, he glances at it as Aether starts recapping what happened between their last phone call, it's a text from Cirrus.

Text me when you're done with Aether. If you hog the blankets tonight I'll break your other leg.

He smiles as Aether launches into a story about a monoply game between him and Cumulus and Sunshine that nearly ended in bloodshed.

"Bet Lus kicked your asses."

Aether laughs, loud, Dew can hear the echo of it. Every ounce of it melts something inside of him, the perfectionism, the stress, the pain. He feels it drain away.

"She's ruthless."

"I told you not to play boardgames against her."

"She promised she'd be better this time!" Dew's laugh lights up the room. "She lies."

They dissolve into easy silence. Dew yawns, jaw cracking. "Miss you," he says softly. "All of you."

"We miss you too, Firefly. Frater's been pacing the hallways since he heard."

Dew rolls his eyes. "I'm fine."

"I know," Aether concedes. "Get some rest. Call me tomorrow—as soon as the show is over this time. Promise me."

"I promise."

[kowbelll]

Rules on request??

Can you do one where Stiles finds out his girlfriend has a chronic illness like lupus or something and he adjust his life to be there every step for her. Even the time in the hospital he stays and sleeps in the bed with her holding her. He always seemed like he would be the golden retriever type 🩷 and she doesn’t or does know about the pack you choose

This is literally the sweetest request ever and so on brand for him! I decided to "give" her something else because I don't know anything about lupus. I am definitely not a medical expert of any kind and I do not claim to be, but I have a couple family members who have the chronic illness I chose, so I am slightly familiar with it. Everyone should always do their own research though! What I wrote mostly focuses on the events before finding out, but I can continue this and go into more detail on what happens afterwards if people would like me to. Also, I apologize, but the last third, give or take is kind of rushed. I hope you like it though! Thank you for the request!

Also, I will take any request with a grain of salt and tweak things if I need or want to. But I'm open to anything!

Battle Together

Word count: 1,658

His heart was racing and falling at the same time. There was no way this was actually happening, right? Not to her.  

His hands shook as he gripped his phone to his ear. Focusing on Scott’s voice was getting increasingly more difficult as he tried not to spiral. Why didn’t her dad tell him? Why wasn’t he with her right then, holding her hand and sweeping away her worries. Shit, he was so worried, and Scott clearly didn’t know all of what was actually going on.  

“Scott, wait, what are you saying?”  

“She’s here. In the hospital. All my mom told me was that she passed out and now they’re doing brain scans.” His friend was plainly shaken up too. 

Brain scans? Stiles felt sick. Everything he witnessed his mother go through when he was a little boy crashed into him all over again. What if this was the same thing? What if she had what his mom had? What if- 

“I’m on my way.” 

Stiles broke nearly every traffic law in existence as he raced to Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital, to his beloved girlfriend. He needed to get there as fast as possible; he needed to know what was going on. He absolutely despised being out of the loop. 

Frantically sprinting into the building and nearly running into not one, but two nurses who were going home for the night, he arrived at the front desk. But where the hell was Melissa? 

His feet almost left the floor when the sweet voice broke through his rapid breathing, saying, “Oh good, you’re here. Come with me.” 

Stiles turned to look at the curly-haired, soft-eyed woman. He couldn’t help that his voice trembled as soon as he opened his mouth. “What’s going on? Is she ok? Did something happen to her? Have they found anything yet? Why did-” 

“Stiles.” Melissa placed her aged hands on his shoulders in an attempt to ground him. “Breathe. Everything’s going to be fine. She’s going to be fine.” 

“Do you really know that...?” he asked hesitantly. 

She paused for a moment, understandably. There was no way to know anything for sure. Not yet, at least. 

“Let’s just go see her for now, ok?” 

He nodded and let her guide him to his girlfriend’s room. As they walked, Ms. McCall told him everything she knew. She explained that the poor girl had passed out in the kitchen while helping her dad prepare dinner, banging her head on the corner of the granite countertop and burning her forearm with spilled gravy in the process. Her father practically carried her to the car as soon as she hazily woke up and brought her in to the hospital. Her second-degree burn was cleaned and treated before the doctor decided to check for a concussion. Hearing the true explanation for the CT scan relatively eased Stiles’ nerves, but there was still so much to decipher. He needed to see her, preferably immediately. 

They reached the door of the room she was checked into when they moved her from the ER. However, Melissa did not reach for the handle, causing Stiles to give her a look of curiosity. 

“Stiles,” she started, exhaling a deep breath, “I want you to be prepared for whatever this is.” 

His curiosity deepened and twisted as the spires of concern within him sharpened and stood taller. “Wha- what does that mean?” 

“It means that, sometimes, something as small as passing out isn’t always as small as it seems...”  

The woman’s eyes were filled with a specific type of pain, one that Stiles was familiar with, but hadn’t seen in her for years. Since he was so young when his mother was sick, he never truly realized how much agony Melissa experienced as she watched a dear friend (and that friend’s family) of hers suffer. It brought her a horrible aching sensation to see the damage a singular disease could inflict on three good, genuine people, and not be able to do something significant to help. That was her job – to help. But there was really nothing she or anyone was capable of to improve the situation.  

Stiles swallowed in a faulty attempt to soothe his suddenly dry throat. He simply nodded, and in return, the sweet nurse gave him an empathetic smile. Of course, she didn’t want to scare him with what she said, but she had given bad news too many times that week. 

“Are you ready?” 

He sighed, trying to take her advice and finding it incredibly arduous. “Yeah, I think so.” 

As they quietly entered, Stiles’ eyes softened upon seeing the girl who stole his heart sitting up on the hospital bed. She looked incredibly tired, but watching her mouth curve upwards when her gaze met his made him feel like the luckiest man alive. Not because of the situation, obviously, but because that cute little smile was for him.  

“Hey, stranger.” Her raspy voice was surprisingly gleeful, all things considered. Perhaps Stiles just had that effect on her. 

“Hey,” he chuckled. “You feeling ok?” 

She simply shrugged and glanced at her father who was standing next to the bed.  

Begrudgingly, the man cleared his throat and excused himself from the room.  He supposed that giving the lovebirds no more than a couple minutes wouldn’t result in an utter catastrophe, even when Stiles is one of the pair in question, who hastily sat down on the edge of the bed as soon as the door clicked closed.  

“Are you sure you’re ok? Do you need me to get you anything? What can I do?” He took her hands into his. 

Her smile grew as she saw the love and devotion he had for her, not to mention the worry. She didn’t want him to stress himself out, but she had to admit that those wide eyes were adorable.  

“I’m fine, I swear. Just... stay with me for a while?” she said, her voice turning bashful. 

“Absolutely. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be. Got that?” His hands squeezed hers as he leaned forward. 

“Yeah,” she nodded, her face approaching his, “I got that.” 

As if he had a sixth sense for his daughter’s desires, the man swiftly entered the room again, causing both of the teens’ head to lurch backwards. Stiles tried to be sly as he slowly and awkwardly pulled his hands away and stood from the bed, backing away cautiously. A doctor stood in the doorway, along with Melissa. 

“Dr. Vandenberg wants to run a few more tests while we wait for the CT scan results, just in case it’s not a concussion.” Her father began pulling his phone out of his pocket. “I have some things I need to do for work, but I’ll be back in the morning, alright? Is that ok with you?’  

The information that was sprung on her felt like a spear piercing her spine and sending a poison of anxiety rushing through her bloodstream. All she could do was nod. There was no other option, anyway.  

He nodded back at her before his eyes locked onto Stiles. “You’re staying with her.” 

It was more of a command than anything, but the boy would never object to that regardless of whose mouth those words left.  

“Yes, sir.”  

Stiles was by her side for as many tests as he was permitted. He could tell that this was more frightening for her than she was divulging; it was harrowing. Therefore, he desperately desired to bring her some semblance of comfort. And he succeeded, to a degree. 

Afterwards, their time together was briefly ceased while he picked up the closest thing to a couple of “real” burgers Beacon Hills could provide. They contentedly ate their late dinner together, squished against one another once she made room for him next to her. He kissed away the condiment that was smeared on the corner of her mouth, making her giggle.  

Additionally, he held her close and kept his eyes glued to her form, making sure she was snuggly falling asleep without interruption. Without realizing it, he, too, was swept away into a slumber. Their trepidations momentarily fizzled and were replaced by fantasy-filled dreams, and morning rolled in fast. 

When her father returned, the doctor explained the various test results they received. Stiles’ girlfriend was officially diagnosed with Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome (POTS), a chronic illness which frequently inflicts dizziness and fainting due to a lower blood volume returning to the heart. It can be managed with an increased intake of salt and water, but will be part of her for the rest of her life.  

Stiles felt a surge of anger at the news – there was nothing he could do to make this nuisance of a disease go away and his girlfriend did nothing to deserve it. However, he swore to himself that he would stay by her side, hold her hand, and keep her safe whenever her body got the best of her.  

He kept his promise throughout the rest of school, their engagement after he proposed, and their marriage. He did whatever he could to help, whether necessary or not. He always went the extra mile for her, even though it wasn’t an illness that would debilitate her from living her life. However, it was definitely inconvenient and dangerous at times. 

There was an instance in which she passed out while driving on the freeway, leaving her car to drift into the guard rails. Thankfully, there was very little traffic, so no one else got hurt. However, she was back in the hospital with a few minor injuries and her husband (for every minute of the stay).  

This battle was never fought alone, and Stiles had a unique talent for making her feel cared for without any semblance of being coddled. He knew how admirably strong she was and exactly when she needed him to step in and hold her. POTS would not break her, nor their bond.  

[hibiscusseaart]

huge ass post with MadaTobi Babies

its finally done, its almost 1 am, I started at 7 pm

OK SO HERE THEY ARE

So a little lore and then I'm gonna introduce them.

As you may remember from my earlier post, Tobirama (they married when he was 19) after the marriage, decided to create a child to tie Madara to him and the village stronger just in case Madara would try to leave the village. He couldn't destroy the village if there's his kid running around, right?

So Tobirama started learning biology pretty early in their marriage + Itama (@oh-no-its-bird 's one) helped a lot too. Mito helped with the seals to make an incubator. Tobirama didn't want a surrogate mother just because he was afraid that Madara would get attached to the mother of his children and he didn’t want that (plus he's jealous but doesn't realise it 🤭).

He created some sort of very real transformation jutsu that would trick his body to think that he has ovaries and he'd get the eggs that way! But he couldn't keep uterus and ect for 9 months, plus this jutsu is HARD to keep on for very long periods of time. It's easier to make a few organs from chakra that could produce real eggs than a whole new system. Plus Tobirama really didn't want to get pregnant and he wasn't sure he wouldn't fuck up his own body. Tobirama, with as gray morale as his, could just scrap failed embryo and start anew. He can't do that with his own body.

Anyway, incubator it is!

At first he did all of that in secret, stealing Madara's sperm (that's... a thing now) for his first experiments while they had sex. (Tobirama fucking Madara real hard that he’d pass out after and then take samples) ANYWAY

So he announced about his plans when the first stable and pretty healthy embryo was ready.

The first baby, Motoko! The melanin quee. She got all of it. Nothing left for her brother or sister. Ofc she's not THAT dark skinned, but she is for an Uchiha who are mostly white as a paper in canon.

(Tobirama is 21 for reference)

Her name literally means "Experiment seed first". Tobirama named this project this way for secrecy if someone would overhear his talks with Itama and Mito. It’d be Uchiha clan head’s child so hush-hush.

The name meanings + kanji! Hope I got them right, I have no japanese knowledge

oh and there is flirting with past and time in general in this name so it might be Tobirama reminiscing his first timeline. Like Motoko didn't even EXIST before.

So when he presented the embryo to Madara and Hashirama, they were ecstatic of course.

Madara almost cried. Hashirama became a river of tears.

Madara never really hoped for his own children since he married Tobirama cuz, well, they're both men. Doesn't really work that way. But Tobirama made it work and Madara is in love all over again.

Madara refuses to leave their future baby for a long time, just looking at them in the incubator. But the baby doesn’t need much there so Tobirama makes him leave and live a life while they’re waiting when the kid is ready.

Oh and Madara was SO against the name that basically means “experiment seed 1”. But when Tobirama asked if he got smth better, he ran away to his compound and tried to find the PERFECT names. He got lost in so many variations and never really decided. So when the kid was “born” (Tobirama just… took her out of the incubator*) and medics checked her, Madara took her in his hands, started crying and while he was having “A moment” Tobirama wrote her name as Motoko, cuz they needed it for administration and Uchiha clan.

*come to think about it, wouldn’t it fuck up a kid a bit? i mean, children develop under pressure of their mother’s organs and they’re in tight position. maybe test tube kids don’t really like to be wrapped in cloth? as i know ppl do that with newborns to imitate feelings like they’re in the womb.

But this name also can be read as “Festival child” so its kinda cute? Madara def told her that that’s exactly what her name means. No seed 1.

Interesting thing, when Tobirama made the baby, he thought he’d make a boy first, a heir. But something went wrong and the kid developed to be a girl. Tobirama was confused why. But technically, the kid is a boy with XY chromosomes but bc of their development and being a genetic experiment something went wrong and they developed as a female (its a real thing btw).

In the long run it didn’t really matter except that Motoko can’t have her own kids bc of all hormonal weirdness. And I don’t think that Tobirama would figure all of that out. He’d think he made some mistake when choosing gender, but kid was born healthy after all. Ofc when they found out that Motoko can’t have kids Tobirama will blame himself, that he ruined his daughter’s life. But she’s would be ok, she had her little siblings growing up and other clan kids so she’s done babysitting.

Okay for her personality! I think she’s kinda like Shisui? Very happy kid, spoiled rotten by her uncles (Hashirama and Izuna compete who is THE BEST uncle) and Tou-san (Madara). Btw Tobirama refuses to be called Kaa-san or any motherly terms. He’s barely holding a kunai in his pockets when Madara calls him wife.

But she’s also very Uchiha with temper and protectiveness. She was trained to be very much Uchiha cuz she’s the future clan head so her jutsu’s are strongly fire natured. Oh and her secondary nature is eath! She took it from the Senju side :)

Good sensor, but not as strong as her other siblings. Have really good chakra reserves and vicious on the battlefield.

Surprisingly looks really like Madara and Izuna’s mom. Her face is all that. Has soft dark hair and soft features. Considered to be very beautiful among Uchihas.

Oh and as you can see, I wrote that she has the Mangekyo. She got it when she was around 14. She was already really strong and cuz of her family, she got cocky. So, you ask me, who died? I think it’d be her female teammate (maybe from Hatake clan? idk I take suggestions) who she was in love with.

So yeah, she got a reality check. Because she got Mangekyo, Tobirama didn’t want her baby to lose her sight, so he improved his own seals that helped him with his albinism. Seals improve his sight and protect from the sun. So he drew Motoko tattoos on her face, like his. Years later it’d be a new feature of the main line.

But before that, when Motoko is 12 and Tobirama is 29, after 8 years of research (and possibly sealing/killing Black Zetsu in the meantime) he decided to try to make another kid. He still wanted a boy.

And he was successful. Meet Akemori! The Music King

The name was suggested by Hashirama. It means “red forest”. Red eyes, plus he sensed that the kid has a bit of mokuton!

But on the downside, Akemori was born an albino. Tobirama himself was really lucky, cuz he had a strong health and I hc that he still has healing abilities, but not as strong as Hashirama’s. But it still helped him in his childhood.

Not for Akemori tho. He was a sickly child, almost blind and burned on the sun easily. Tobirama had to put seals on him when he was about 3 years old. But even then his eyesight was still poor. Seals can’t fix everything.

Tobirama, once again, feels guilty that he didn’t notice any mistakes when he was creating the child.

And being born almost blind in Uchiha clan of all people wasn’t really nice. Though he is still clan head’s child and has a whole bunch of very powerful adults to protect him. Plus his older sister who loves him very much and wants to protect him from any harm.

But because of health issues Akemori was never really trained in shinobi arts. Well, he was trained (his fathers are literally… them) just that he could protect himself, but no one expected him to go on missions or even become a shinobi at all. Uchiha elders treated him as a potential political marriage pawn (even though Madara and Tobirama would never let them do that). Akemori caught on that and never had the motivation to become a shinobi at all. He was offended and said that he’d NEVER become a shinobi.

Madara was a little mad at that, cuz they’re SHINOBI clan, what the hell. But he shut up the second Tobirama sent him The Look. Tobirama was ok with Akemori’s wishes, like his twin and himself are shinobi by necessity, but they finds more joy in research.

Akemori was trained in Mokuton by Hashirama of course, even though Senju elders bitched about him selling clan secrets to Uchiha. But Hokage does what he wants.

Akemori’s mokuton isn’t as strong as Hashirama’s, plus he never really wanted to fight. But he was good with plants so he joined Itama-oji in his research a lot! Especially since Hashirama is busy with Hokage stuff, Itama was delighted to get a new helper.

Akemori is also a really good sensor because, like Tobirama, he had to compensate his bad eyesight. Basically, Akemori is a very Tobirama’s kid.

Surprisingly, he awakened the Sharingan! He was 6 and some foreign ninja (prob Kumo) thought it’d be cool to steal a kid with the Sharingan. Because of his naturally red eyes Akemori got stolen. Ofc when Tobirama felt his kid out of Konoha bonds, he sounded the alarm in the whole Uchiha clan to check on their kids whereabouts and was first to chase the kidnappers.

Kumo nin were killed by a very mad Tobirama and bc of the stress Akemori awakened the Sharingan. It wasn’t much of a use for him, since he’s not a shinobi. But at least Uchihas acknowledge him as a fellow Uchiha and not just Tobirama’s carbon copy.

(btw noone outside immediate family actually KNOWS where the kids coming from. They don't see any pregnant women in the main line house or anyone in the clan with the same time who gave birth these days. Tobirama himself or god forbid Madara aren't ever seen pregnant. Where the fuck kids are coming from? Do they just spawn in the house or what)

(they basically do spawn)

Sharingan helps Akemori to actually see! At least he could see something and could read. But stll, its not really strong, cuz not trained enough.

Basically Akemori is a perfect mix between Senju and Uchiha with Sharingan and Mokuton, but he was nerfed by albinism.

Being almost blind boy who can navigate only with his sensing, doesn’t gives him much hobbies. Ofc he helps Itama and he studies plants and medicine a lot with him, but he still needs a hobby. Books don’t work for him, any type of handicrafts too cuz he can’t just use Sharingan all the time, his head hurts and sometimes he doesn't want to remember a whole book perfectly. He’s also not very interested in training as a hobby.

So in his tweens while Itama and he were traveling (with Uchiha escort (prob Motoko) just in case) to the near town for some medicine and plants, he noticed (heard) a group of musicians and he fell in love.

Itama immediately bought him an instrument (maybe Biwa?).

And now the second son of Uchiha Madara became a musician! Isn’t it fun. Elders are furious.

Madara was baffled but “You do you, son. When you learn, show us? Oh and maybe you can copy someone else’s playing, but be discreet. They may not like that you’d try to copy their music. Shinobi don’t really like when we copy their jutsus too”

With age he learned to play several instruments (I take suggestions on which ones). Some people even thought that he’s trained to become geisha (he's not, he's just a pretty boy who plays music for fun).

When he grow old enough, Itama started to give him weed for inspiration and to relax. Akemori is prone to quiet anxiety attacks after he was kidnapped.

Okay, the final kid. She was born 4 years later after Akemori.

Nari! The pout queen

Madara finally got to name his kid. Her name means “Calm, harmonic village”. Yeah he decided to name his kid after a village. It's still better than Konohamaru

And she’s the final kid, because Tobirama finally got it and produced a “normal” healthy kid. Plus he's not sure how many kids (3) and students (another 4 and Kagami) he can actually handle.

She has very Uchiha coloring, but Tobirama’s facial features. She also inherited his stare.

She’s the baby of the family, but she grew up slightly strict and serious cuz she stayed a lot with Tobirama, cuz he decided he won’t spend another maternity leave out of the Tower. The first two times were a disaster when he came back.

Tobirama left on maternity leaves just cuz he needed to monitor his kids health, especially Akemori’s. Idk about Konoha maternity leaves, but they should be really short, since well shinobi are needed all year long and they can’t wait for mother-shinobi to spend a whole year on that. Though on the other side, mothers need time to recover or they won’t be able to perform good on their missions (plus they probably have a milk smell lol). Who knows, maybe Tobirama was the one who drafted a law about at least one year maternity leave. He got very popular among kunoichi (can you believe that I just remembered that this word exists)

Nari is really like Izuna, but got her temper under control. Maybe think of teen Kakashi but without dead fathers and angst. But also brat.

Her chakra is water nature and she has 0 affinity with fire. Still she did produce great fireball as their traditions dictated, even though it took her many trials and errors. After that she decided that she hates traditions like that. Got really rebellious in her teens, about 13 and even tried to challenge her sister (25) for the clan head position. She didn’t win ofc and was bitter about it.

Also because her sister and brother both have seals, she always dreamed of the same, cuz as a baby she thought that it’s something special for their family. But Tobirama doesn’t think she needs them cuz her sight is perfect and her skin is pale, but it doesn’t burn like Akemori’s.

It triggered interest for seals in general cuz “FINE if you won’t give me seals, I’ll just make them myself!”

Tobirama was completely okay with it. He always strives to encourage kids when they want to learn something new. So he sicked her at Mito. Though his aunt was quite happy to teach her niece sealing art.

also idk why i write evil near her. she's just a brat. though she has the potential to become Azula ish

And that’s it!

I will write more about them later cuz im tired. I have some other ideas I wanna expand. Like Tobirama introducing his pups to his Hatake aunt (did i tell you that i LOVE Hatakes?),

Oh and fun little sketches close ups for a treat

i love this Hashirama with the kids, ugh he's so father

if you have any questions you can send them to my ask box!

[bloos-bloo]

HELLOOO!! I HAVE RETURNED- ANDDD Idk how to do lineups- please- this is a new type of embarrassing for me lmaooo-

BUT HEY! BISHOP REDESIGNS PART…. 3! YIPPEEE-

I didn’t change much lore wise- so the original sheet still has some info- but I will be info dumping under the cut with the individual art of each and like- my inspirations for them.

Narinder changed a lot- ummm he’s such a slay now. Omggg- Tee hee- Anyways, His pronouns are He/Him and he’s Pansexual- yes yes. He’s no longer a disciple but he’s an Undertaker and a GraveWatcher. Thought it was more fitting for him-

Ummm he’s based off a Kurilian Bobtail cat :D I NEEDED TO MAKE HIM FUN TO DRAW OKKK?? AND NOW HE ISSS AKDBDJDBJD

Leshy uses He/Him pronouns and he’s gay demisexual Yaaayyy- :D He’s a bartender and occasionally farms, but he rather destroy the plots for fun or eat the crops.

I kinda took all kinds of inspirations for him- ummm first of all- I based him off the Moss Creeps from hollow knight- cause yeah- they’re adorable. HE HAS LESS CLOTHING CAUSE HES ALWAYS IN THE DIRT- Less clothes = Less of a hassle to deal with clothing being restrictive. It makes totallyyy sense- yes yes

Me accidentally making Heket my favorite- tee hee- WIBDKDBD OK- Heket uses She/Her pronouns and she’s aroace. She has no time for no MAN OR WOMAN- AS SHE SHOULD!! GIRLBOSS YOUR WAY THROUGH LIFE!! YIPPPEEEE- She’s usually a cook but once a while she’ll go on missions. Give her a weapon of any kind and she’s golden.

For the life of me- I cannot draw frogs- so I based her off of the Chinese Giant Salmander- just pretend she’s totally based off a frog.

Imma be so honest- idk why I always draw Kallamar so small- tee hee-

OK! Kallamar’s transfeminine who uses He/They pronouns. They’re also poly <3 love that for himmm- look at themmm- enough hands to holddd- A good think to point out is that they’re completely blind in his left eye- (looks like it’s right in this- um.. trust me-) they can never win- tee hee. Uhh he’s still a medic and occasionally helps at the tailors.

Kallamar my beloved- YOU COVERED UP!! YIPPEEE- THE SLUT DOES GET COLD /silly. Um- he’s based off a diamond squid- kinda sorta- I just loved the frills those squids had- tee hee-

MURRAAAA- MUURRAAAA-

Cough cough- ummmm. Shamura’s a demisexual nonbinary <3 (AFAB to FTN- me projecting PLEASE-) They’re still a disciple but their main focus is usually in the library or tailors. Unlike Kal- their second set of arms are retractable! Along with their legs- erm, you can tell when they don’t want to walk with those small ass feet- I bet it hurts.

I have- no solid inspiration for Shamura other than tarantula- I did steal the colored beads from my human design of them. Each bead being their sibling. I just love fluffy spiders-

FINALLY THIS BITCH- /silly

Emery uses all pronouns and is unlabeled! They love whoever- (do they even love? Idk man-) She’s normally known as the Shepard, carrying around the Shepard’s hook.. love that for them- tee hee- uhhh not much to say about her. I just love Emery- (The difference between the two Emerys is terrifying btw-)

Like Shamura- I have no official inspiration for them besides looking around Pinterest. Man- I just love how she came out though- like??? Ekdbdjbdkdbdjdvdid-

I wish I wrote more but my brain is dying- I’ll most definitely redesign my fankids and the spouses- 🫡 laaatteerrr- yes yes- tee hee-

[formula-nyoom]

Hello hello hope you are swell 🩵 I see you do platonic drivers 👀👀

Could it be possible to request a platonic! Reader who is a younger sister (that is also a driver, any team) to a driver of your choice who is given either a drink or meal before going on the race and getting a severe allergic reaction. Like rushed to the hospital asap reaction please 🥺

A/N: The only thing I’m allergic to is bullshit(and mosquitoes), so I don’t know what it’s like to have an allergic reaction to food. Hopefully I wrote this ok but do let me know if there are things I need to change. I decided to keep this as a blurb only because it's so similar to the last oneshot I wrote and I went with Oscar for this one

~~~

“Shouldn’t they be back by now with our drink bottles refilled?” Your teammate asked as you looked over some data. The race was set to start in just under an hour and the matter your teammate was more concerned about is the assistant that had gone to refill both your drink bottles rather than look over data with you.

 “They only left a minute ago. I know you’re used to everything going fast but they’re not a race car.”

 “Well they better be back soon with my energy drink. I have to drink one before every race. Helps with my performance.” Your teammate said. You just rolled your eyes. 

The assistant soon came back with both your drink bottles refilled. You thanked them and took it. As you were about to take a swig, your phone vibrated with a text from your brother, Oscar. 

Papaya-Bro: Chit chat before the race?

More often than not, you and Oscar would find each other in your respective drivers rooms to talk before the race. It was a small amount of time where the two of you would talk about anything but racing, giving the two of you a sense of peace before you had to face the chaos of Formula One. You sent him a text that you were on your way over and made your way to the McLaren garage. Some of the McLaren workers waved at you as you walked in, having gotten used to you making appearances in the garage to see your brother.

“Mom wants to know what she should cook for dinner when we come back home.” Oscar said, looking down at his phone while sitting in a chair.

“I’ve been craving her meatloaf for the past couple days. Ask her if she'll make that.” You said, taking a sip from your drink bottle. Your face scrunched up in disgust as you tasted something that wasn’t water on your tongue. You ended up swallowing whatever it was you just drank as your first reflex was to gag at the taste of whatever you consumed. It was sour, with a hint of fruitiness. 

 “What’s wrong?” Oscar asked.

“This isn’t water.” You said, handing him your drink bottle. “Taste this for me.”

You gagged again and then started to cough as Oscar took a swig of the mysterious drink.

 “Yea, that’s not water.” He said. “It’s got a–”

“--fruity taste.” You started to cough more violently while trying to gasp for breath. Your throat felt like it was closing in on itself as you struggled to breath.

Oscar didn’t have time to figure out exactly what the drink was. He was able to guess what was in it though as he witnessed you starting to have a severe allergic reaction to whatever the mysterious drink was.

 “I need medical assistance!” He called out into the hallway, hoping anyone heard him. Oscar quickly opened the front pocket of his backpack that always carried the spare epipen and grabbed it. By now you had gotten down to the floor, still struggling to breathe. Kneeling down in front of you, Oscar steadied the orange tip over your outer thigh, before having it make contact with the fabric of your race suit. He pushed the auto inject button till he heard the click. He then looked down at his watch to watch the seconds go by.

 “One…two…three…”Oscar then removed the epipen and checked to see if it went in. But to his horror, there was no puncture hole from the needle. Of course race suits that were designed to keep a driver safe from getting burned or injured in a crash can prevent a needle from going through the fabric. 

 “I NEED SERIOUS MEDICAL ASSISTANCE!” Oscar yelled again. This time someone seemed to have heard him as a McLaren worker came in with a medic right behind them.

“She’s having an allergic reaction! The epi pen didn’t puncture through the race suit!”

The medic took out a pair of scissors and an epi pen before they started quickly cutting the pant leg of your race suit and fire proofs. Once the material was cut away enough to reveal the skin of your upper thigh, the medic didn’t hesitate in administering the epipen, which successfully went through this time. Oscar helped steady the pen while the medic put an oxygen mask over your face to help you breathe while the medicine worked its way through your system. 

Eventually you were able to breathe again and your throat no longer felt like it was closing up. But you and Oscar both knew that you couldn’t just hop in the car and race. You’d have to be taken to the hospital to make sure whatever allegens you had consumed were fully out of your system. Oscar made sure one of the McLaren personnel went over to your team garage to inform your team that you had an allergic reaction and could no longer race today, before he helped you up off the floor and handed you off to the medical staff.

 “Kick their asses for me.” You said to Oscar before leaving, your voice raspy from coughing. 

“Will do.” He promised.

~~~

Oscar was a bit rattled throughout the race because of what had taken place just before it. That wasn’t the first time he had to administer an epipen for you, he’s seen you have allergic reactions before. But the fact that it didn’t work the first time is what really freaked him out. But knowing that you were ok and breathing was enough for him to score P3. And the fact that he beat your teammate seemed to make you happy so Oscar took that as a win.

“Because I saved your life today, can you let me freely pass you during the next race and defend me from the people behind?” Oscar asked as he drove you home from the hospital. 

 “You didn’t save my life. The medical staff did.” You said, playing with the medical band around your wrist.

“I attempted to! If our race suits weren’t made so tough to protect us from crashes, you wouldn’t have needed to be rushed here.”

 “That’s kinda a big flaw with the race suits. They can protect us from fiery crashes but prevent someone from administering an epi pen.” You noted.

 “I’ll talk with the FIA tomorrow to propose new safety regulations so race suits have to be made so a giant needle can break through the fabric. I’m sure that will go over well with the other drivers.” Oscar joked. Your phone buzzed and you looked down to see a text from yours and Oscar’s manager.

 “Mark just texted me. Apparently the energy drinks my teammate has before every race are now banned from the garage. Turns out it’s got lychee in it.” You told your brother.

 “Honestly they should have been banned from the start to prevent what happened today.” Oscar said. You nodded in agreement.

 “So you’re not going to let me pass during the next race?” Oscar asked. You rolled your eyes.

“Only if you defend me from my teammate if they end up behind you. Which is often.”

[walkingstackofbooks]

TW for pregnancy, childbirth, PPD, generally rough circumstances for a pregnant character

Ok so I read your post talking about an AU where Julian taking on the pregnancy for Miles and Keiko’s baby and it made me think of the long-term implications of Julian carrying the O’Briens’ baby in terms of the timing; specifically, if he still got abducted and replaced by a Changeling in the final months of pregnancy (idk if a Changeling could simulate a fake baby but shhh let me cook).

So he still gets abducted and imprisoned while heavily pregnant, and greatly fears what will happen to the baby if the Jem’Hadar get their hands on him. Assuming he’s cis/didn’t surgically give himself the right parts for a natural birth, maybe he convinces Martok to help him break into a medical facility to perform his own c-section? Otherwise he’d have to give birth as quietly as possible in a prison cell, and then prioritize keeping the baby quiet and hidden (in the walls probably). Everyone finally makes it back to DS9, Miles and Keiko finally get to meet their actual son, and Julian gets the worst case of PPD after fighting for so long to keep the baby safe (which is probably exacerbated by the arrival of his parents shortly afterwards).

Oooooh, that's sure a heap of trauma to dump on him - I am so here for it 👀👀

You've got me thinking about how hard that would be though, to possibly be able to give birth without the Jem'Hadar noticing... What if he wasn't able to conceal it, and the baby's safety was held over him as a condition for good behaviour... What if the baby was taken and he didn't truly know if it was safe until Garak manages to lock onto the only other human lifesign in the camp and beam it up with them to the runabout...

Ah man, there's so many possibilities with this - thank you for sharing this idea with me! (And I'm sorry it's taken me so long to get to!)

[Also, if you're interested, here's a different concept of how Julian-being-pregnant-when-kidnapped could go, that I wrote a while back ;) ]

[themultifandomgal]

Kelly Severide- One Hell Of A Day

Thank you for the request @maximeseveridecasey I changed it slightly. Also I wrote it then lost half of it! So I’m sorry if the ending seems a little rushed. I’m also no expert at medical situations so if I get something wrong I’m really sorry. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

The day started out as any other. Kelly and I woke up in our shared bed, the smell of the fresh linen hits my nose and I had put on fresh sheets the night before. Kelly and I started our usual routine I made coffee while he showered, then he made breakfast while I showered. Just like any other morning when we’re on shift together.

Early on in the morning we arrived at firehouse 51 together and everything was going well, that is until 2 hours into our shift. I started to feel uncomfortable in my stomach, thinking it could be just my period on its way I took some pain killers which helped. Yes, painkillers helped until they didn’t anymore.

I stand leaning over the sink having an awful pain shoot through my side when the alarm goes off. Groaning I stand up feeling a hand on my back

“You ok Maxime?” my boyfriend asks worriedly

“Yeah just my period coming” I tell him trying not to worry him, but that fails because I can see the worry creeping over his face already

“Sure?”

“Yeah. I’m fine” I dismiss him with a weak smile

“Max let’s go!” Dawson shouts for me hanging her body out of the drivers side of the ambulance

“Coming” I give Kelly a kiss on the cheek before jumping into the passenger side. The drive to the house fire feels like it’s very slow. The whole time I am shifting about trying to relive the discomfort in my right side which causes Gabby to notice

“What’s up with you today? You look like your about to puke, cry and scream all at once”

“Just my period on its way making me feel like crap. Let’s just get this over with so I can crawl into a bed and go to sleep”

“You mean a certain lieutenants bed” I glance over to look at Gabby who’s giving me quick look wiggling her eyebrows. I roll my eyes in response at her making her laugh.

Once arriving to the fire I can see smoke pooling out of the windows. Jumping down I walk round the side of the ambulance as I watch Kelly run into the building with no fear. Pulling the stretcher out the pain in my side gets worse and now I feel like I could throw up any minute

“Max you don’t look good” Gabby tells me with a worried expression. Knowing there’s no point in lying to her I sigh

“Just don’t feel good today. As soon as we get back I’m just going to nap”

“We’ve got a victim here fallen down the stairs. She unconscious and has possible spinal injuries” Gabby and I look at one another before quickly running into the burning building.

Immediately I can see a woman lying on the floor with a nasty looking gash on her forehead. Between the both of us we get her on the stretcher. Suddenly there’s a huge blast that throws me across the room. My ears ring and the pain in my side almost becomes unbearable. I look around and notice smoke and fire all around us. Coughing I wait for my hearing to come back. When it finally does I can hear both mine and Gabby’s alarms going off

“Gabs?” I groan

“I’m here. You ok?”

“My legs trapped”

“Severide, Casey do you copy”

“We’re ok. How are you and Max?” I hear Casey radio to Gabby

“I’m fine. Max has a cut on her head and her legs trapped under a beam”

“We’re on our way stay put”

“Wasn’t planning on it” I try to joke but start coughing. In no time at all Matt and Kelly are here helping Gabby pull the beam off my leg making me scream and cough

“Let’s get your leg checked out” Kelly says picking me up and carrying me out of the building

“Kel, my side hurts. Like really hurts it’s not my period”

“Ok when did it get worse?”

“Just has throughout the day”

“Ok let’s get you in the ambo and to hospital”

At some point I fell asleep, because as I come to and try to open my eyes everything feels way to bright so close my eyes again

“Hey” I hear Kelly’s voice. I try opening my eyes again “do you want a drink?” Only now do I notice that my voice feels scratchy and dry. I slowly nod my head yes and Kelly is quick to grab me a cup of water. He places the cup against my lips that immediately feel less dry, and take a sip. The cool water soothes my throat. After drinking the small cup Kelly places it down “how do you feel”

“Like I’ve been throw about a room” I attempted to joke but can see Kelly doesn’t quite find it funny

“Babe why didn’t you tell me the true extent of the pain you were in. You had appendicitis. They burst when you passed out before we got you in the ambulance”

“It only got really bad when we go to the scene. I was going to relax when we got back”

“Ok” Kelly bends down and kisses my forehead then smooths any loose hair “the others are waiting outside to see you. Want me to let them in?”

“Sure” I give Kelly a smile and watch him get up before leaving the room. I’ve loved that man for a long time now, but as soon as I’m better I’ll be proposing to him. I want to spend the rest of my life with him.

[fandom-lover2]

More Than Meets The Optic

Ultra Magnus learns he stans non-binary rights

Word Count - 1827

Author's Note: I wrote this for my platonic soulmate after they came out to their parents as non-binary and was not supported. @quilbug, reality may suck, but in my world you are unbelievably loved and supported. Thank you for the permission to post this. Luv ya

My head bopped up and down in time with the beat, my eyes sliding across the words of my laptop screen.

Man’s invention of fanfiction can be dated back to the 18th century, and provided endless hours of entertainment while also creating a person’s own impression of the source material and building on it.

I spent hours lost in the worlds of my favorite characters, amazed at the creativity of people as they made new storylines, and did away with events in the canon they did not like.

Ratchet barked out an order to Miko, pleading with her to turn the music down as a louder song filtered through the speaker she had placed on top of the TV. Miko sassed the medic back, something about appealing to the masses.

“Miko…” I called out, drawing out her name and dropping an octave. A clear warning.

She let out a wailing groan, but did as she was told and the music diminished in volume.

“Thank you.” Ratchet sighed, turning back to his station. I tossed him a thumbs up without looking away from the screen.

God this story was beautiful, and funny. My cheeks hurt from smiling so much, and my chest felt warm and bubbly. These happy fics, slice of life stories of the characters the shows and movies don’t get to bring to life made the characters seem so much more real, like they’re somebody you actually know and can converse with. That being said, when the story ended, or the author decided to stop writing, it felt like you mourned characters as if they were real people, because you never get the chance to see new events happen with them again.

I had just finished one chapter and was ready to start the next when my name was called, by someone I never expected.

I spun in my chair, looking up to meet Ultra Magnus’ optics. He was frowning, and shifted on his peds.

“May I speak with you? Alone?”

My eyebrows shot up. Without thinking, I turned to look at Optimus. Whether to get his approval or check if I’d heard his lieutenant correctly, I was met with his version of curiosity. Still, my guardian looked down at me and nodded.

“Uhh, yeah. Sure.” I gently closed my laptop and stood, walking towards the steps.

Ultra Magnus interrupted my journey, holding out a servo in front of me. Ok, this was getting stranger with every second.

I accepted his servo, sitting stiffly as he began walking down the hall.

The big guy never carried us humans, didn’t want to be anywhere near us. Till Optimus paired him with Merling. They were the only one of us “natives” he tolerated. They had their spot, nestled between his neck and that weird shoulder situation he had going on. And Merling loved him, kindred spirits finding solace in one another.

It was funny in the beginning, because both Merling and Magnus had been confused at how Optimus and I would go for patrols and get so lost in our conversation that we’d just end up parked somewhere talking, all sense of time leaving us. Now, since Optimus had spoken to his lieutenant and explained how things were different, Magnus actually slowed down, stopped expecting something bad to happen every second and he and Merling had started spending extended periods of time together as well. Merling was finally allowed to join him on patrols, and at the base (once reports had been completed of course), they would find somewhere to sit together, spending time in one another’s company.

To have him willingly wanting to converse with me, which hadn’t occurred often since our less than friendly meeting, and carrying a human that wasn’t his charge, it was a big deal. Something serious must be going on.

Magnus carried me into the empty hanger in the base and deposited me on one of the catwalks, then took a few steps back. I waited, watching him as he dropped his helm.  His optics were darting side to side, a quirk I’d learnt meant he was thinking. A minute later and nothing had changed.

“Everything ok?” I realized I probably needed to start this conversation.

“Everything is… well.” he said, hesitantly. And that was all he gave me, still looking down.

“Okaayyy.” I pierced my lips. “What did you want to talk about?”

He looked up at me briefly, unsure. I was so used to seeing him frown, always agitated by something, but this was more innocent, like he didn’t know what to feel.

“I have a question, regarding the one you share a namesake with.”

‘Quil.’ I silently wished I could correct. Merling hadn’t spoken to anyone at the base about their self-discovery yet. And I’d promised to keep it under wraps until they were ready for everyone to know.

“Ok.” I prompted.

His frown deepened, and he was still looking down.

“We were conversing while I took her home and she-”

He stopped suddenly, his expression turning into a scowl, and I swear I heard him growl softly.

“They,” he corrected, “told me they no longer felt content with previously used ‘pronouns’ or the name you share.”

Finally, he looked up at me. He shifted his weight again, servos twitching, like he was unsure what to do with them.

“Can you explain to me what this means?”

I couldn’t stop the smile that broke across my face, and my chest felt all warm and fuzzy again. This was the cutest thing, and the most caring thing, I’d ever seen the grumpy guy do. He wanted to learn.

“Firstly, thank you for coming to me to ask. It shows you really care, and that’s sweet. Secondly, I’m happy to answer any questions you have. Don’t feel silly for asking.”

He relaxed at my words, shoulders sagging just a smidge as the tension left his faceplates.

“Ok, to start. As you know, humans are often divided into two genders, male and female.”

Magnus nodded.

“Well, that can refer to what a person feels they are, and what they are biologically. For example, I am female, a woman. I was born a woman, have a body typical of that of a woman, and view myself as a woman. Jack is a male, was born a male and feels he is a man.”

Magnus nodded again.

“Now, some people aren’t happy with the gender they are born with, feel as though that is not who they are inside. In their souls.”

He frowned, helm cocking to the side slightly. It reminded me of what dogs do, and I really had to fight a laugh.

“They are not content in their own forms?” he reiterated.

I shook my head. “No. So what some people do, what doctors have developed, is a way for a person to change their gender.”

This caused him to look even more bewildered.

“Doctors can give people artificial hormones, and perform surgeries that allow the person to change into the gender they feel they are.”

“We did not have such things on Cybertron.” Magnus spoke, eyes shifting again. “Who you were forged as is who you were.”

I smiled at him, watching as he tried to comprehend what I was saying to him.

“So…” he trailed off, trying to find the word. He looked at me pleadingly.

“Quil?” I supplied.

“Quil,” he nodded. “Quil wishes to become a male?”

“No.” This caused him to look at me in exasperation.

“You just said-”

“I said in some cases.” I corrected. “Quil feels differently. They feel as though they are neither male, nor female. Man, nor woman.”

He stared at me blankly for a few moments, then blinked and continued to stare.

“Does that make some sense?”

“What can be done to make… make them feel content?”

I smiled again. “Well, for starters, doing what you just did. Calling them by a gender-neutral pronoun, so them/they, will make them feel as though you respect them, and support their decision.”

“And medical assistance?” he pushed, taking a step closer to me urgently.

“That’s their decision. They may choose to have a surgery to make them appear less feminine, or can use a binder, which they have already.”

He looked down again, silently taking in all I had told him.

Cybertronians already make so much more noise than humans, the sounds of their internal fans causing a constant hum to emanate from them. Now, even though it shouldn’t be possible, I could imagine hearing the sounds of gearing turning as he tossed around the words I had spoken in his processor.

“So, why ask to be called Quil, as well as ‘gender-neutral pronouns’, as you said?”

I paused, trying the find the best way to approach this.

“Kristin was the name they had when they were a girl. But they’re no longer a female, and that name is who they were, and so they need a new name for who they are now.”

Magnus nodded absentmindedly, still thinking hard.

“And who else knows? Because the other children do not refer to them by Quil.”

I nodded in agreement. “Humans can be… weird and intolerable at times. Many people won’t be happy or accepting that they have changed their pronouns and name. People will start to see them differently, but not in a good way.”

“And you think that others will treat them this way?” he asked. It was said harshly, almost like he was accusing them of it already. He was getting upset that someone might not accept Merling, treat them harshly. He was getting protective.

I bit back the smirk that played on my lips.

“I don’t think anyone here will, but Quil needs to make that decision. Who they trust to know this, who they want to tell. For now, it’s just us. When they are more comfortable, they’ll tell others.”

Magnus remained silent, contemplating again.

“Does this all make sense?”

He hesitated before speaking, “This would not of been accepted on Cybertron, and I have never heard of such feelings among my kind, but I understand what you have told.” He paused. “And I will try to refer to Quil as they wish.”

“That’s amazing.” I praised. “If you have any more questions, please come to me.”

“I will.” Magnus nodded once, then took a step back. “Thank you for your assistance.”

Then, he turned and began walking out the hanger, leaving me behind on the only catwalk that didn’t have stairs connecting it to the rest.

By the time I realized, he was already turning into the hallway.

So, maybe he wasn’t progressing too far in his understanding of humans, or his tolerance of us. And yeah, it was taking him time to adjust to how we’d changed the base and dynamic of the team. But no one could ever say he didn’t have the capacity to want to change and learn, he just chose who he’d do it for.

[peyton-warren]

Okay sorry last one!

Sy knows that you’ve been ignoring your health. (Brushing teeth, showering, eating properly, sleeping properly) but he’s been pleasing you every chance the two of you get.

Could be because you’re with him or you just have been busy, but you get a toothache and he takes you to the base dentist or a regular dentist. It’s something simple like just a stuck popcorn shell or something like that. Or maybe you pass out. Idk 🤷🏼‍♀️

He decides that if you want to cum again, you have to take better care of yourself. No grinding either. Every time you do, you suck him off while he teases you. Until you take better care of yourself. No orgasms

I might have taken this one a little off the track you set but we got back on it by the end. There is no smut there is a hell of suggestion at the end. I hope this is ok. And its a weeee bit longer than a drabble. Wrote this all by hand in the woods thanks for the prompt that resonated so much with me.

Characters: Gender Neutral reader, Captain Syverson Pairings: Sy x Reader Fandoms: Sandcastle, Henry Cavill characters Word count: 4111 Type: angst, suggestive Warning: 18+. Warnings: blood, Reader injured, discussion of domestic abuse, self depreciation, discussion of mental illness, daddy kink, potential eating disorder, tiny Daddy kink

Summary: Reader has to be taken to the hospital by their new-ish boyfriend Sy. Sy learns some things about his partner that has Reader worried about their future together.

Author's Note: I have no idea how a real ER works, nor proper medical procedures nor hospital policies.  I manipulated them for my own gain here.  Nor do I fully understand how blood sugars work or what the tests doctors use tell them about your eating habits.  Don't come after me if you know how they actually do work. Also thank you to @ellethespaceunicorn for the beta.

Ask Box: Open Masterlist

Banner by me with an assist by @ellethespaceunicorn Dividers by @cafekitsune

Dazed, you blinked your tired eyes open.  

“There they are,” Sy cooed softly, crouching next to you.  

You blinked again, trying

to focus.

He was next to you on his kitchen floor.  You stared up into the concerned blue eyes above you.

Oh right date night.  You two had been cooking dinner. 

“I didn't know you were afraid of blood,” he said with sincerity, no teasing or judgment in his tone.  

“I’m not,” you said defensively.  Then you realized the last thing you remembered was nicking your finger cutting up veggies and then nothing.  “What happened?” You asked.  

“You passed out,” he told you.  “I saw you waver out of the corner of my eye and caught you in time to keep you from hitting the deck,” he told you.  “How are you feeling?”

“Okay?”

“Just okay?  You think you can sit up?” He offered you a hand.  As you placed your palm in his, he carefully helped you into a sitting position, his other arm gently curving around your back, just in case.  “How’s that?” he asked, squeezing your hand.  

“Okay.  I think.”

“I don't like your uncertainty,” he admitted, softly, looking at you with a deeper concern.  “I’m calling an ambulance.”

“No!” you shook your head vehemently, hating to cause him or anyone even a hit of inconvenience.  “I’m fine.”

“You are not fine, sweetheart,” he told you.  “You look like you have seen a ghost.  You're trembling and your palm hasn't stopped bleeding. We are going to the ER,” he insisted.  “Even if I have to hog tie you and throw you in the back of the truck.”

“Sy, I’m fine,” you tried again.  

Sy moved from you only briefly to grab a kitchen towel that read “Mama Tried,” and returned promptly to press it to your palm which you just now noticed is covered in blood.  “I didn’t think I cut it that bad,” you admitted.  You were unable to assess the damage before it was covered in flour sack material.  

“You jabbed it in there pretty good just before you went down.”  Sy pulled his phone from his pocket.  “Now are you willingly coming with me to the hospital? Or am I calling the squad?”

You knew your stubborn asshole of a boyfriend wasn't going to back down until you were properly checked out.  After a beat, a silence, just a split second before you were certain he was going to open his phone, you relented.   “Alright.”

He placed a hurried kiss to your forehead as he stuffed his phone back in his pocket.  “Good.  Now put your other hand over the towel and I’ll get you to the truck.”

You scoffed at this.  “You are not carrying me to the truck,” you said.  “I’ll get myself out there.  Just get me off the damn floor.”

Sy chucked.  “There’s my sweetheart.  Hold the towel tight,” he insisted just before standing behind you and hooking his hands under your arm and effortlessly lifting you to your feet.  His hand held your upper arm tight as he rounded you and looked intently at your face.  “You al’ite?”

“I’m fine, Sy,” you ground out, done with being fussed over.  

With a single nod, he placed that hand to your lower back and gently guided you to the door. “Easy and gently,” he reminded you.  

“I’ll ‘easy and gently’ you.” You continued to be unhappy with his instance of treating you with such tender care.  You still were not used to dating a decent human being, unsure if you even deserved it.  If he knew how  you really were, maybe he’d throw you away, like all the other partners you had had over the years.

Sy, oblivious of your inner conflict, got you settled into the passenger seat and buckled you in.  “All set, baby?” 

You only nodded, still applying pressure to your cut palm.  He gave you a soft smile and carefully closed your door.  Took him all of two seconds before he was in the driver's seat and starting the engine.  “Let’s get you patched up.”

The drive to the local hospital was over within 20 minutes and was accomplished in silence.  You tried to ignore the new throb in your palm that appeared.  Sy had stopped you once from peeling back the towel by laying his hand over yours.  “You don't wanna do that.”

“I wanna see.”

“No you don’t.  Firstly it'll start bleeding again once you release the pressure,” he used his Captain voice, you knew his military training had kicked in.  “Secondly, I don't need you passing out again when you see it.”

You all but huffed at him.  “I am NOT afraid of blood.”

“You may not be, but you aren't gonna like the looks of that.”

You relented and gave a dramatic sigh.  “Aye, aye, Captain,” you said dryly.

Once you arrived at the hospital, and got through the headache of checking in, the two of you settled in the waiting room. Sy took your injured hand and put it on his thigh, taking over putting pressure on the injury.  You sat in further silence until a nurse called your name, less than 30 minutes later.  Sy kissed your temple and let you take your own hand back.  You both stand and head for the nurse who eyes you 6’4” shadow with suspicion.   “Just them,” the nurse states in a no nonsense voice.

“It's ok,” you reassure her.  “He’s with me.”

“Is he your emergency contact and/or spouse?” she asks you, and your stomach dropped at the thought of going in without Sy.  

“No,” you say in a small voice. 

“But ma’am-”

“Do not,” she cut Sy off.  “Policy is policy.  I don't make it,” she sternly stated.

“You are just the enforcer,” Sy finished for her in a very knowing voice.  

“You got it,” she beamed at him. “Have a seat.  They'll be out as soon as they’re done.”

You gave him a soft smile over your shoulder and mouthed ‘Sorry.’  He kissed your forehead.  “You’re in good hands,” he tried to sound calm for you.  You nodded and followed the scrubbed nurse into the ER.  The door closed behind you with a soft click, signaling it locked.  The nurse led you to a room, flipping the plastic flags over the door to whatever she needs to as you step in.  

“Have a seat on the bed,” she said in a softer tone than she had with Sy.  As she halfway pulled the curtain closed, you settled with your back on the upright position of the gurney.  She clicked at the computer near the bed.  “Laceration on your non-dominant palm.  How did it happen?” she asked, nodding to your hand as she reached for gloves from the rack on the wall. 

“Slipped while cooking dinner,” you offered, leaving out the part where you passed out.  

She eyed you before placing a hand on your wrist.  “Let me take a look.”  

You relinquished the towel which you now realize had a significant amount of blood on it. “Oh geez, I hope he can get that out.”

The nurse’s eyes flit back to your face.  “Who is he?” she conversationally asked.  

“My boyfriend,” you said almost shyly.  This thing between you was still new and fresh, only a few months old.  You were still getting used to using the title for Sy.  

“You live together?” she asked as she put the makeshift bandage back down.  “Hold that again please.”   

You do as you are told.  “No, only been together a few months.” you affirmed.  

She nodded and stripped the gloves from her hands, dropping them into the biohazard trash before turning back to the computer “You are gonna need stitches,” she told you, “but first the doc has to come see you to confirm.”

“Yeah kinda figured that was why my army boyfriend brought me in.  If he coulda handled it himself we wouldn't be here,”  you guessed.  

The nurse pulled a wheelie stool over and sat down near your bedside and looked at you compassionately but no nonsense.  “He the reason you are here?” she asked.  

“Well yeah, he insisted-” 

She shook her head, interrupting you.  “No sweety,” she tried again.  Her name tag/badge read Joy you noticed.  “Are you safe with him?”

Your eyes widened at her meaning. “Yes!” you stumbled over the word, surprised someone would think you are not safe with Sy.  “Absolutely,” you insisted.  “He’d never hurt anyone he cared about much less me,” you defended him further.  

“You have to know how this looks,” the nurse stated.  And you finally put all the pieces together.  “Especially with him being active duty,” she pointed out.  You had heard the rumors that military men were statistically more likely to be the aggressor in domestic violence situations. 

“Not him,” you asserted, trying to think of another way to convince her she had it all wrong.  

Instead she reached out and squeezed your knee.  “It's ok.  I have to ask.  Just a couple more questions and then I'll go get the doctor.”  

You relaxed into the mattress.  “Okay.”

“Do you want your boyfriend back here with you?  I can continue to tell him its policy to keep him out in the waiting room.”

You almost started panicking again at the thoughts that anyone would think anything but the best of Sy.  “No, I want him here please, if I can.”

“Of course you can, especially if he will help you stay calm.” She took a deep breath, holding it for a beat and then releasing it, which you mirrored.  “Will his presence keep you at ease?” Her eyes stared at yours, watching your reaction closely.  

You took another deep breath and nodded.  “Yes please.”  

“Ok sweetie.  If you change your mind, tell me or the doctor you’d like to see ‘Dr. Strong’ and we will get security to remove him from here, okay?”

“I won’t need that,” you assured her.,  “But I’m glad you have that in place for other people to use.  “

She gave you a sad smile. “Unfortunately it's all too common of a situation for us.”  She put her hand on the door handle.  “What’s the boyfriend’s last name?”   

You gave it to her and she nodded.  “I'll go get him now and the Doctor will be with you as soon as he can.”

“Thank you.”

And she was gone.

And you were left alone with your thoughts for a few minutes.  You had never thought so much of as an ill thought about Sy outside of  how obnoxious his snoring was when he’s been drinking and now you felt like you hit the jackpot with Sy.  But also, it felt a bit early to be proclaiming declarations of love.  Sy didn’t seem like the type of man who would ever harm his partner but you had been fooled into thinking the best of others in your past and were proven ---

The door opened and saved you from continuing that thought.  Sy’s face appeared around the curtain with a concerned look as Nurse Joy peeked around him.  “Will be a bit til the doctor will be with you.  Keep holding that towel.”

Sy rounded the bed and sat on the stool the nurse abandoned.  “Thanks,” you said.  “For everything.”

“You are welcome.  Just doing my job.”

And she was gone again, the door closing behind her. “New friend?” Sy asked after that exchange.  

“Something like that,” you affirmed.  

“What’s the verdict?” he nodded towards your hand.  

“Needs stitches,” you stated nonchalantly.  

“And the passing out?” he prompted. 

 You hesitated.  “Oh, ummmm,”   

“You didn't mention that?” he surmised.

“No.”

“Of course not,” he sighed.

You stopped looking at your hands in your lap and flashed your eyes to him.  “What’s that mean?”

Sy just shook his head and laid his hand on your knees closest to him.  “I’ve just noticed you aren't very good at taking care of yourself is all.”  

You get defensive immediately, though this isn't the first time you have heard that from someone else who cared about you.  “I do just fine with that,” you asserted.   

“Then why didn't you mention that to the nurse?”

“Because that's not a big deal,” you attested. “Not as much as bleeding to death.”  You raised your injured hand to illustrate.  “I’m sorry about your towel.”

“I don't give one goddamn about a kitchen towel,” he stated but is interrupted by a knock on the door, drawing both of your attention.  Nurse Joy walked around the curtain with a man in a white coat.  

“Hello here’s Dr. Brock.” 

Sy’s hand squeezed your knee. 

“How are you today?” Dr. Brock asked.  

“Fine outside of trying to filet my palm.  Wait,” you suddenly say.  “I only remember nicking my finger.  When did I slice my palm?” you looked at Sy, and felt the attention of the medical personnel in the room shift to look at him as well.  

“You grabbed for the counter as you passed out,” he simply stated.  

“There was no mention of passing out,” Joy stated, and you realize you had just ratted yourself out.  

“Did you hit your head?” the doctor asked, springing into action to examine your eyes.  

“I don't think so,” you sounded unsure. 

“No they didn’t,” Sy joined the conversation. “I caught them on the way down.”  

Doctor turned half his attention to the attentive boyfriend beside you as he applied gentle pressure around your head.  “Were they out cold?”

“Yes”

“For how long?”  

“At least 3 minutes but it felt like a lifetime,” Sy disclosed.  

Doctor Brock nodded as Joy typed on the computer.  “Let’s get them a CT scan, a CBC panel to start,” he spoke to the nurse who clicked the mouse.  “And a stitch kit for their hand.”  He gave that the briefest of looks and a nod.  “Looks like the bleeding has stopped.  We can take care of that while we wait for radiation to come get them.”

He turned back to you.  “Afraid we are going to keep you from dinner for a bit longer,” he told you.

“It's ok,” you whispered. 

It took another hour, but you found yourself stitched , bandaged, scanned and short a few vials of blood.  You and Sy sat in the room, talking about which fast food to grab on your way back to his place when Dr. Brock and your new favorite nurse returned.  “We have the results from your scan and your blood work,” he told you as he sat down in front of the computer.  Sy’s hand gently squeezed your uninjured hand while the doctor logged in and pulled up your chart.  “Ok,” he paused as he read.  “Your CT scan came back normal.  Nothing unusual in your brain.”

“That's good.”

He nodded as he continued to look at his results.  “There’s a few things in your blood work I’d like to talk to you about.  Your glucose was concerningly down.” 

 “We were in the process of making dinner,” Sy tried.  

“No it was more than just one missed meal,” the doctor told him.

You avoid looking at Sy out of guilt.  ”I may have missed a few meals today.”

“There's only three to miss,” Sy sounded upset, and your stomach flipped.  “How many did you miss?”

“All of them...?” you stated uncertain, again. 

“And the past few days?” the doctor asked.  

You shrugged and looked sheepishly at him.  “A few...”

“Your blood work says more than ‘a few’,” he said sternly but gently.  “And your urinalysis says you are severely dehydrated.” He looked at you.  “How much water do you have every day?”

“Water?” you lamely asked 

“Yes, plain water.  Maybe with some lemon or bubbles in it, but just water?”

“Not much.  I’m more of a coffee kind of girl,” you tried to tell him, aiming for a joke but it falling flat on your audience.

“I’m going to need you to up your intake of water by a lot.”

“For how long?”

“For always,” he looked at you.  “Human bodies need water to survive.” he glanced quickly at the screen before turning back to you.  “How has your depression and anxiety been lately?”  

Well shit.  You looked guiltily at Sy again before answering.  “It's been better.”

“On a scale of 1-5,  l one being the lowest you’ve been and 5 being the best feeling ever, where have you been lately?

Another sideways glance at Sy before answering.  “A 0.5?”

“I see,” the doctor said and typed a few things.  

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Sy asked, sounding more than a little hurt.

The shrug you give him does nothing to remove the look from his face.  

“What can I do for them, Doc?” he asked, his eyes never leaving your face.

You opened your mouth to protest but Dr. Brock beat you to it. “That’s up to them as to what they need. But open communication is a good start.”  That was directed at you.  “And reassuring them they are worth taking care of themselves.”  That was directed at Sy.

“I can handle that,” your boyfriend stated.  

“Glad to hear it.  Nurse Joy will get you your instructions and get you checked out.  You can have your GP pull the stitches in 14 days.  And go over your mental health needs with them too, please.”

You just nodded.  

“Take care of each other.”  And he was gone out the door.  

The ride home was as silent as the ride to the ER but for different reasons.  You felt the anger rolling off Sy.  You were ashamed at having your mental health issues revealed to him in such a manner.  This relationship was still too new and now you were afraid he was going to ditch you and run for the hills.

“You can just drop me at my car in your driveway and I’ll head home,” you surmised you had fully ruined your date night if not your whole relationship.

“What?” Sy sounded confused.  “No.” He pulled his eyes from the road for a second to look at you.  If you weren't wrong, he looked hurt again.  “We are grabbing dinner and then we are gonna talk about what is going on in that beautiful head of yours.”

“Look if you wanna break up with me-”

“What kind of assholes have you dated, sweetheart?” he asked angrily and your mouth audibly snapped shut followed by a soft sniffle.  He DID think you were an idiot and he was going to ditch you tonight.  You knew it.  Trouble was he held you hostage until he returned you to your car.  And the sound of your next sniffle, Sy hit his blinker and pulled the truck into the first parking lot on his right,parking his truck across 4 spots before turning in his seat to look at you, his hand landing on your forearm. “Please talk to me,” he softly said.  “Whatever it is, I'm here.”

“You hate me,” you asserted.   “I’m a horrible person.  And now you know the truth about me.”

Sy’s hand flew up to the ceiling of the truck and flipped the light on and watched you wiped at your tears.  “Did I say any of that?” he asked. “Ever.”  

You shook your head.  “No but you probably are thinking about it now that you know.”

“Know what? That you have a mental illness that makes your life hard to navigate?”

“Yeah.” you sniffled. 

“For fuck’s sake, darlin’, do you know how many of my men have mental illnesses, both diagnosed and not?  And I trust them literally with my life,” Sy tried again, agitation just on the edge of his voice.  He took a breath and tried another time.  “Sweetness, whatever you have going on , I ain't lying when I tell you I’m here for you, for all of it.:”

“But-”

“No buts, gorgeous, you aren't getting rid of me that easily,” he insisted, giving you a small smile, which you did not return.  “Unless you want me to go.  I hope you don't.  You seemed like you were enjoying our evening tonight before your swan dive.” You smiled at that.  “But if you want out, let's talk about that and I’ll try to convince you to stay so I can fix whatever it is you don't like but I do not want out.  I make that call, not you,” he asserted gently.  

You sat in stunned silence for a moment.  All your standard cookie cutter responses to try to convince someone you were a horrible person died on your tongue, leaving you with nothing to say.  

At another beat of silence, Sy grabbed his phone from the center console.  “Do you want pizza or tacos for dinner?”

~~~~~~~~~

Once you were safely at his house with your dinner, Sy left you at the kitchen table as he took an exuberant Aika outside to potty and chase a ball around for a few minutes.  By the time he returned, you had set the table and were in the process of cleaning up the mess you had left on his floor, on his counter, your blood mixed with food that had been left out too long.  

Sy dramatically sighed when he found you trying to one handedly clean everything up.  “Will you stop before you hurt yourself further?”  You looked at him sheepishly.  “But thank you,” he tried instead.  “Thank you for setting the table.”  He took your good hand and escorted you to the table set with two plates, two glasses of water and the only candle you could find in his house and you were fairly certain it was a gift from his mom or sister.  He pulled your chair out for you and you rolled your eyes as you sat down, but you sat down.  “Good baby,” he mumbled into the crown of your head.  “One slice or two?” he asked, chivalrously opening the box for you to see the options available as if you weren’t in the truck when he ordered your usual pizza.  

“You are a dork,” you informed him. 

“Yes, but I am your dork,” he told you, pulling two pieces to put on your plate.  “Since you didn’t eat at all today, you get two.  And you have to eat them all, even the crusts.  And drink all your water too,” he informed you. 

You made a face at him but nodded, agreeing to those terms.  “Okay, Daddy,” you teasingly mutter as you pull a stringy bit of cheese and pop it in your mouth.  

Sy growled low in his throat, a noise you only heard when you did something he liked in the bedroom and you felt your belly heat at finding a new kind of his and one you didn't object to.  You smirked at him as he sat down, your focus now on his darkening eyes. “You wanna play with Daddy, little one?” he menacingly asked you.  You nodded enthusiastically, your ravenous hunger shifting from the pizza to the man in front of you.  

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes, Daddy.” you started to rise from the table to move towards him.  

“Sit your pretty ass down,” he commanded without raising his voice.  You felt yourself grow hotter at his tone, immediately and unthinkingly settling back into your spot.  “You will eat everything on your plate, or you will not leave this table, am I clear?”   Normally you would balk at such a statement but now you just nodded.   “I need words, little one.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Good baby,” he commended.  “You will also drink everything in your glass, do you understand?”  You lost focus, you wondered if this is the tone he took with his men and if so did any of them get turned on as you were right now.  “Hello, pretty baby?” Sy’s voice broke through your wandering thoughts.  

“Yes Daddy, I mean Sir.  I mean Daddy,” you stuttered, unsure what title to use, both seeming fitting at this moment. 

“I see that attention is a problem for you.  So let me try a different approach,” he asserted.  “If you have everything on your plate, drink all the water I give you and take your daily meds if you haven't yet,” he raised a questioning eyebrow at you, knowing you usually packed your medications with you when you came over for date night.  “You can cum tonight.  If you don’t do those things, all you’ll get to do is help me cum, am I clear?”

You swallowed loudly, knowing he was not at all joking in her terms.  “Yes, Daddy.”  And you took a big bite of cooling pizza.

“Good baby.”

General Tag List: @ellethespaceunicorn @littleone65, @mysweetlittledesire, @jvanilly, @identity2212,

@avengersfan25, @foxyjwls007 @gummydummy19 , @cynic-spirit , @rosecentury

HC Tag LIst: @m07belzen, @used-to-be-bourbonwithice, @hawklin, @geralts-yenn @summersong69,

@sillyrabbit81 @mistressmkay

Syverson tag list: @mrsevans90 @wunder-blunder

Please let me know if you want to be added to (or removed from) any of them. AND Just cuz I think you'll be interested in seeing it I am gonna tag @deandoesthingstome

[translatemunson]

cat and mouse for a month or two or three • ttfd

chapter eight of the tortured firefighters department

previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter

cw: fem!reader, afab!reader, no descriptions of reader, brains is recovering, idiots in love, short chapter after a huge hiatus I'M SORRY OK , no proofreading otherwise i’d never post this (lmk if i missed something)

A new routine took place. You spend most days inside your apartment, classes online since they were checking all the buildings on that side of the campus, on medical leave from your job because, on top of the broken ribs, they wanted you to recover from the burnout you got yourself into. That also meant you were taking mandatory therapy sessions, and maybe after a month they could let you work again. It was like being grounded from what kept you fueled in your late twenties.

Their first mistake was giving you way too much free time while bored. You wrote pages upon pages of your thesis in your first week. The moment you hit send and sat to wait for your professor’s notes, you found out you couldn’t reorganize your home because it was considered too much effort for your broken ribs. Your kitchen became the latest victim.

But a real victim to all your boredom was one door down the hall, who probably regretted giving you a copy of his keys — to be used just in case of an emergency.

“What the hell are you doing, Brains?” It was the third time this week that Buck arrived at his home and found out you were there, just casually chilling,

“Reading!” You were upside down on his couch, a romance book in your hands.

“I don’t think this position is good for your ribs. Can you sit like a normal person?”

“No. It’s boring. Also, I’m gonna babysit Chris tomorrow, so I’m hijacking your Xbox.”

“Why aren’t you doing that at your place?” He pointed to your silly reading position.

“Because I needed to tell you about your video game. Are you hungry? There’s some lasagna in your fridge.”

“Did you make it?”

“Yeah. Now shut up, they’re finally confessing their feelings for each other.”

Buck turned the TV on just to get some noises into the silent apartment. You were too busy with your book, he was too afraid of doing something he would have regretted later. Somewhere between his first and second plate of lasagna, you put the book aside and started to pay attention to the news.

“Big rescue, hm?”

“I don’t know why they keep building towers with paper thin structures and too many glass windows with shitty fire alarms. What happened to the good ol’ bricks and stones?” He was eating at the table, probably destroying the food in record time.

“Excellent question. I’ll look it up and give you an answer tomorrow”

“You’re really bored, aren’t you?”

“Oh, what gave it away?”

“It’s definitely not the same book from yesterday, you cooked a lasagna as big as the ones Bobby feeds us, you’re gonna babysit Chris on Eddie’s day off.”

“He needs to run some errands, and Chris hasn’t been feeling good lately, probably just the flu. So I offered my services for the day. What’s wrong with that?” You stared at him. Was he cuter upside down than the other way around?

“Nothing, it’s just… are you ok?”

“Please, don’t pull a therapist on me, I already had my mandatory session today. I swear I’m ok, I’m just bored of doing nothing. No adrenaline, no deadlines.”

“You’re really addicted, hm?”

“What can I say, Buckley, I wasn’t made to stay still.” As soon as the local news was over and football started, you moved back to your book. Buck got up and went for some beers. “I’m just gonna finish this and I’ll see myself out.”

“I’m gonna charge you rent for my couch.” He sat on the floor, right next to your face. Third time in his living room was a charm, right?

“Wasn’t the lasagna enough?”

“I thought that was for my Xbox. Want one?”

“No, thanks.”

You opened your book again, but the sudden proximity with Buck was the only thing you could focus on. The five o’clock shadow, the red birthmark on the left side of his face, the brightest eyes you’ve ever seen… Staying alone with your thoughts for too long was making you think of things you once judged impossible.

It was a split second, but he caught you red handed, staring at him. You smiled and moved your eyes to the pages of your book, not sure where you left off.

One big hand snatched the object from you. You turned to your side to complain and retrieve it, giving Buck the perfect opportunity to bring your lips close and kiss you. It barely turned into a deep kiss before you took some space to process what was happening. Your action made Buck a little confused, blinking his eyes and nervously messing with his own hair.

Your ribcage started hurting, so you moved your body carefully until you were sitting on the floor, face to face with him. Giving him enough time to change his mind, to say he actually didn’t mean it. Because how could he kiss someone like you?

You thought you’d never see a glimpse of fear on the eyes of one of the most fearless men you knew. Buck was too stunned to say anything, his full, pink lips slightly open. Your hand found the curve of his neck, your cold skin over his boiling hot veins.

You leaned in for another one. He pulled you closer carefully. However, it was nearly impossible to avoid the messier, helpless kisses. Evan Buckley was finally taking over your mind, maybe even your whole body.

Both of you had to move back a little, taking quick breaths after such intense kisses. You rested your hands on his shoulders and smiled.

“Did it really take me getting trapped in a burning building for us to have the courage to do this?” You bit your lower lip, trying to avoid him noticing your blushed cheeks.

“I don’t know about you, but I wanted to do this for a long time,” he confessed.

And it caught you by surprise. So Maddie was really telling you the truth.

“Wait, how long?” He avoided eye contact and you laughed. “No, Buck, please. Tell me.”

“Do you remember that shift I got your number with Eddie? So,” he took a deep breath, “I was planning on asking you out that day, but I just… I chickened, ok?”

“And right after that you ate all my cupcakes when I was at Maddie’s. Off to the best start, Buckley.”

“Not my best move, ok?” He laughed. “How many months ago was it?”

“No clue, to be honest.” You pecked his lips again.

Buck’s arms held you close, not willing to let you go. His lips were just inches away.

“Should I remind you of my doctor’s orders?” you whispered.

“You’re never walking into danger on my watch again.” Buck finally let you go, but it was written in his face it wasn’t what he wanted. His touch lingered a little longer, a little too deep. And you were sure you were mirroring his actions.

“I know.” You got his video game console and your book. “See you tomorrow?”

“Sure thing, Brains.”

You leaned over, leaving a goodnight kiss and a promise to come back to whatever you just started.

+++

“Ok, do you want some snacks? I,” you checked your storage once again, noticing how you should’ve added “do groceries” to your list. “How are we feeling about popcorn?”

“I love popcorn!” Chris replied, his focus on the TV screen.

“Popcorn it is.” You turned the machine on and measured the serving. You heard knocks on your door. “Just a second!”

Maybe Eddie was back because Chris forgot something in the car? No, he had everything in his backpack. You opened the door, but your eyes stayed on the kid on your couch. “Really, Eddie, don’t worry. I can watch him for as long as you need and… Buck.”

“Hi.” Even if he looked like he just left the shower, his voice sounded like he ran a marathon and stopped at your door.

“Buck!” You both heard Chris from the couch. “Are you joining us?”

“Only if Brains let me.” He smiled, waiting for you to invite him in.

“How could I say ‘no’? Come in, we are playing video games and having popcorn.”

“You can play with me!”

“I’ll be there in a sec, Chris. I just need to talk to Brains first,” he pulled you aside and out of Chris’ view. Not like the kid is paying any attention to you, anyway. “Hey there.”

“Hi. Why do I have a feeling you’re here to babysit me?” You move to your kitchen, rushing to find the popcorn bucket in your cabinets.

“Can you blame me? You have two broken ribs, self diagnosed burnout syndrome,” you mumbled, “ok, your therapist said you have it, and you’re babysitting Chris on a day you’re supposed to wake up after 3.”

“It’s just for a few hours, and he’s not like Jee-Yun,” you pointed out the reality: Chris was just a little bit sick and Eddie didn’t want him to be alone. “So you’re here to see if I have plans for today.”

“Kinda.” He opened the top cabinet and gave you the bucket. “Do you?”

You elbowed him on the torso, playfully.

“Watch your step, I know his reputation.” You pointed to Chris over your shoulder. “But the answer to your question is no.”

Buck smiled, satisfied with himself. “Hey, Chris, orange or apple juice?”

“Apple, please! I’m crushing you!” The kid's voice indicated a promise to end Buck’s character.

“Ok, buddy, if you say so,” he turned to you and whispered, “so it’s a date?”

“Yes, Buckley. Now are you gonna help me with Chris or not?” You served two glasses of apple juice.

“Sure thing, but I might need to run some errands later because,” and he stopped himself. “You’ll see.”

a/n: hi is there anyone here still? i know guys, i was gone, no sign of life, but hey, i'm back (i hope so). IT FINALLY HAPPENED! i had to make this chapter shorter than usual because otherwise it would be too big. so that's it. see ya soon!

[lostmonsterposts]

Major Angst: Dead Dove

A horrific idea came to me about Bruce and Jason immediately after Jay's death

So I wrote a fic about how Bruces psyche delt with his sons death and my own personal timeline headcannons (if interested: Read here -Warning it is superbat endgame but nothing romantic actually happened).

But a awful thought just came to me that I now must spread like the curse it is.

For those who don't want to read but for context of my mind, I hc that it took Bruce 3 days to dig Jay's body out of the rubble and when he found him Bruces mind couldn't comprehend that Jay was dead. Like total denial.

Soooooo, after he finds Jay, he wraps him up in a blanket and Flys him home. By the time he gets to Gotham it's like 2 or 3 AM and Alfred is already asleep since Bruce isn't home. Back then they didn't have sensor alarms if one of batmans vehicles went into the cave (which is why they do now).

So Bruce gets home and he takes his baby boy to the medical area and tries to feed him his favorite scooby doo gummie snacks but for some reason Jay won't eat them. Then he tries to give him water but no dice, he even tries to give him a soda telling him he won't tell Alfie if he drinks it but still nothing.

Whatever, he must be incredibly tired, so Bruce cleans Jason up, which is a lot harder than he thought it be, but he was under there for a while. He then grabs his sons favorate pajamas (the wonder woman ones) and dresses him in that. Though it isn't fitting the way it did a couple of weeks ago, he might need to call Dr. Thompson for a checkup.

But he knows just what will cheer his baby up. So he grabs his boy and takes them upstairs, and goes to Bruces room, tucking them both into bed. Jason always loved sleepovers. They made him feel safe, so it was the logical thing to do. It was the best night of sleep Bruce will ever have.

Alfred wakes up around 6 to get started on his dutys. He takes out the garbage and grabs the mail. He goes down to the cave, and what do you know? His boys are back. So he goes and makes them both a nice breakfast in bed. He pops into Jay's room, but the boy isn't there. He must be in the masters room. Alfred walks into the room and puts the trays of food down to open the curtains. When he turns around, he sees the closest thing to a son he will ever have cradling the corpse of his dead child.

OK that's all the horror I got, it's 5 AM and I just got off my shift so bed time.

[ysomtt]

🐰JERVIS TETCH🐰 GOTHAM CENTRAL FIRST DATE HEADCANONS

A/N: Hello again! I decided to make a kind of part 2 for my last post so I may continue writing, but don't worry they can be seen as a stand-alone just fine. Again I wrote this with with a Gotham Central Jervis in mind but can be interpreted as any Jervis you want!

OK, first date. Don't be nervous you got this!

After a few "unintentional" meetings he finally got brave enough to ask you on a date! And a proper date at that, in a proper restaurant not some dirty cafeteria that smelled like underpayment and regret.

While you contemplated whether to wear pants or a skirt Jervis was a mess...

He wanted to be himself but the himself he had was a weird little man with a predisposition to riming and that won't do!

He wanted to impress you so you coud fall in love with him like those romance novels!

So maybe no top hat today? Yes, save it for a second date!

Oh boy, a second date? It was too late, he started to fantasize and when he fantasized everything better follow the steps to a tea!

Maybe take some of his medication before the date, just to make sure...

As you were finishing getting ready Jervis decided to call you. You were not crazy enough to give him your home address so you were meeting at the restaurant.

And when you got there oh boy! He was done for!

You were even more gorgeous than before! How is that possible?!

And he was cute too, I mean everything in his size was cute but that little man new how to dress up! Even got his hair done! That's nice...

The restaurant was beautiful!

As you were ordering your food you could feel the nervousness from the other side

That poor boy was shaking!

He couldn't help himself, it's not like he did this a lot. In fact you were the first date he had in a good couple of years!

But as you two ate and drink your wine you coud see him slowly relaxing

As the conversation flows and the meals were eaten you realize that the restaurant was getting empty, it seams you guys were there for a moment too long...

After such pleasant meal he made sure you were safe by walking you to your house.

And, well, such wonderful night deserves a little reward dosen't it?

A little kiss, just a small taste...

Oh Jervis was done for! If you thought he was obsessed earlier you have no idea! His therapist is going to have a hard time I just know it...

Well you can write this date a success! More may come as a result!

But ops! He now knows we're you live, that can't be good...