#I’m probably gonna keep watching after the surgery but anything I say is gonna be such absolute nonsense | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pathologicalreid · 6 months ago

Note

heyyy!!! I just wanted to say I really love your work and this is my first time sending a request so sorry if it’s not very specific 😭💕

If you’re still doing requests, I was wondering if you could do a fem reader x Spencer Reid where it’s similar to your cryptic pregnancy one, except Spencer is at home with her when she’s in labour without realising, and she’s just in a lot of pain and it all of a sudden gets worse and she’s just in the bathroom shouting for Spencer, he comes in and eventually works out what’s going on, readers sort of in denial? Maybe the ambulance doesn’t get there in time so Spencer has to help her give birth? Lots of fluff and hurt/comfort :)

Also completely fine if your not comfortable doing it, but again really love your work and hope you have a great day 💕 :)

three's a family | S.R.

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: cryptic pregnancy, traumatic birth, precipitous labor, hospitals, medical inaccuracy (its just me and google against the world), takes place after 9x7 "gatekeeper", surgery, near death experiences, periods, home birth word count: 3.16k a/n: anon i'll be so honest with u i wasn't sure if i was gonna write this but then i learned what precipitous labor was and i was like "i would not wish this on my worst enemy... i'm going to force it on y/n" BUT please keep in mind that there is a .000012 probability of this happening to you (i did the math) this is the wildest thing ive written to date i think

“I’m going to try a bath,” you murmured over to Spencer, wincing as you dragged yourself out of bed, walking at a turtle’s pace to the bathroom, hoping the warm water would soothe the cramps away.

Your period came and went as it pleased; it was just your luck that it decided to give you debilitating cramps on your one day off. Padding on the tile floor behind you, Spencer leaned against the doorframe to the bathroom, “I could run to the store and get a new heating pad.”

Sticking your hand under the tap to check the temperature, you plugged the drain once you found it to be satisfactory. You shook your head, “No, it’s fine.” Your original heating pad must’ve gotten lost somewhere in the depths of your storage closet, but you didn’t have the patience to look for it. You could manage just fine without it.

“Will you let me know if you need anything?” He asked, leaning forward to press a comforting kiss to your forehead.

Nodding, you hooked your thumbs in the waistband of your pajama pants and pulled them down, watching as Spencer pointedly flicked the bathroom fan on – something you often forgot to do.

You lasted about thirty minutes in the bath, not only was the water beginning to grow lukewarm, but if anything, your cramps were getting worse while submerged in the water. Grunting, you reached over and tugged the plug from the drain, watching as the water drained, you managed to pull yourself to a squat before you felt stuck.

Aunt Flo really had it out for you this month.

Burying your face in your hands you accepted defeat and called out for Spencer, reaching up and trying to stand again, but only succeeding in knocking over several shampoo bottles. “Spence!” You tried again, white-knuckling the edge of the bathtub as you bowed your head. A creeping feeling that this wasn’t your period was beginning to rise.

You listened as your husband made his way up the stairs, turning the corner into your room, and opening the door to the ensuite. Moving quickly, Spencer dropped to a crouch in front of you, cupping your pained face in his hands, “I don’t think this is your period, angel.”

Clamping your lips together to prevent yourself from crying out, you simply nodded in response. How awful was it that you were going to die, naked, in your bathtub?

Spencer wiped tears away from under your eyes – you hadn’t even realized you started crying. “What does it feel like, darling? What else could it be?” He asked, voice urgent but gentle as he tried to stop you from panicking.

As you shook your head, you couldn’t focus on anything else besides your breathing as another pain rose up through you. “It’s like a cramp, but with more pressure,” you said, depending on the bathtub and Spencer to keep you upright as your legs shook beneath you. “Like something’s pushing on me, kind of like I have to shit.”

Reaching behind him, Spencer dug through one of the drawers in the bathroom vanity before retrieving the handheld mirror that you used when you cut his hair. Before you could ask what he was doing, he placed the mirror at the bottom of the tub, just beneath you. “I think you’re in labor,” he announced, breaking the news to you.

“There’s no– fuck,” your voice broke off as you dropped your head onto Spencer’s shoulder, breathing through what was apparently a contraction. “I’m not pregnant,” you insisted as your symptoms started to make sense. You had been in labor all morning.

Nodding to himself, Spencer quickly kissed your cheek before standing up and making sure you were stable before stepping to the side.

You frowned as you looked up at him, “Where are you going?”

He didn’t go far, opening the linen closet and piling towels into his arms, “I’m getting towels to put in the tub beneath you, and then I’m going to call an ambulance.”

“You want me to give birth in our bathtub?” You asked, furrowing your brows quizzically before letting out a low whine as another contraction hit.

Stopping what he was doing, Spencer dropped down to you, running the flat of his palm up and down your back as he gently reminded you to breathe. “Did you want to change positions?”

Immediately, you shook your head. You already had an insurmountable task ahead of you and you saw no reason to add to that task by trying to move. “This is fine. Squatting is good, right?”

Nodding assuredly, Spencer smoothed your hair away from your face, “Gravity can help the baby descend the birth canal, and some people even say that the position can increase the pelvic diameter.”

While you were currently less concerned with the diameter of your pelvis and more concerned with feeling like your body was being split open, you continued going through the motions as he called for an ambulance, trying to explain the situation to the dispatcher.

“Have you been timing your contractions?” Spencer asked, tilting his head at you curiously as the dispatcher spoke on the phone.

Releasing a groan, you gripped the ledge of the tub, “I didn’t know they were contractions!”

Relaying that information over the phone, Spencer dropped to his knees in front of you, “Okay, I’ll do it. I’ll take care of it.” He continued to reassure you, taking one look at your desperate expression before ending the call with the dispatcher.

He understood that you were vulnerable right now, and you didn’t want that broadcasted to a stranger on the phone. If you weren’t so preoccupied with remembering to breathe, you’d be more grateful. After a contraction ebbed away, Spencer stood up.

“I have to go unlock the door for the paramedics,” he told you, keeping a wary eye on you. “I’ll be right back,” he comforted you as he took one last look at you before tearing out of the bathroom.

In record speed, he returned to the bathroom as promised, “It’s bad,” you cried, the pressure on your pelvis becoming insufferable.

Crouching in front of you, Spencer studied your face before he spoke carefully, “I have to check your cervix.”

Despite his carefully chosen words, your lips still parted in shock, “You have to what?”

“I’ll use my hand to measure how dilated you are, and then… we’ll go from there,” he told you, nodding almost imperceptibly. At this point, you weren’t sure who he was trying to reassure – you or him. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” you answered instantly, “indefinitely.”

You bit down on your lip as you let Spencer check you, understanding entirely why people choose to get epidurals – this was horribly uncomfortable. “On the next contraction, you need to push, okay?”

For just a moment, your breathing faltered as your scared eyes met his, “Spence, wait,” you pleaded.

Smoothing your hair back, your husband did everything he could to comfort you, “What is it, love?” He asked, his voice soft.

“I’m scared,” you confessed, voice cracking ever so slightly as tears flooded your lash line.

He leaned forward to gently kiss your lips before pulling away to press his forehead to yours, "I've got you. You're going to be fine. You're both going to be fine."

You could see his carotid pounding, and somehow the fact that he was secretly as scared as you was more comforting than the words that came from his mouth. As you pushed, you focused on everything that Spencer was saying instead of the pain. Don’t push for more than eight seconds. Remember to breathe. Your body will know what to do. I love you. I love you. I love you.

By the time Spencer was saying something about the head, your hearing had gone muffled. “You’re doing so well, baby,” you made out his voice and nodded dazedly. “You’re wonderful. I’m so proud of you – just a little more,” he cajoled.

Taking a moment to breathe, your ears and eyes focused as shaky breaths filled your lungs.

“I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful,” he murmured, dropping a kiss on your bare shoulder as he comforted you, continuing to keep you upright.

You shook your head, sniffling as your eyes screwed shut, “You’re perfect. Don’t stop. Keep talking,” you begged, needing something to focus on other than the pain.

“There’s about a point zero four percent chance of you getting pregnant and not finding out until you’re in labor,” he told you, hoping that the information would help you wrap your head around what was happening to you. “One to three in one hundred people have a precipitous labor,” he continued to speak as you pushed, and you wondered what the odds of you squeezing his hand so hard that you did damage were.

Against your better judgment, you looked down to check your progress, “Holy fuck,” you said breathlessly. You weren’t entirely clueless, you knew that once you got past the shoulders the remaining pushes would be easier. You also found yourself grateful that Spencer knew what he was doing – this was, after all, the second baby he had delivered.

You bore down, determined to get the baby out while Spencer untangled your hands, bringing his own down to catch the baby. Out of breath, you panted heavily as you started to feel lightheaded. “Done,” Spencer said quickly, “it’s done. I have him.”

Carefully, Spencer held the baby along the length of his forearm, rubbing the tiny newborn’s back. “Come on, come on, come on,” he muttered under his breath, and it dawned on you that the baby wasn’t crying.

At the realization, your legs finally gave out from beneath you, watching with wide eyes as Spencer tried to clear your son’s lungs. White hot tears streamed down your face as you whispered, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You took a gasping breath as you silently pleaded for a cry, “I didn’t know,” you sobbed, guilt building a pit in your stomach.

With bleary eyes, you looked on as the baby finally spluttered and let out a wail. “There you go,” Spencer cooed softly, his own voice stiff with emotion as he cradled the baby and handed him off to you.

You were still sobbing as you held the baby to your chest, “I’m so sorry,” you continued to babble, watching as Spencer briefly disappeared into the bedroom before returning with a blanket and wrapping it around the both of you. While holding the baby, your vision started to blur around the edges.

Watching you intently, Spencer cupped your face in his hands, “I love you.”

Nodding, your face crumpled before you responded, “I love you too.”

When the paramedics announced themselves, Spencer called out for them, not wanting to leave your side. The two of you focused your attention on the wriggling baby in your arms.

He was premature – too little to stay with you in the recovery room. The NICU doctor had estimated that he was born at approximately 32 weeks, meaning he’d likely need to spend a few weeks in intensive care. “I want to see him,” you said insistently, looking over as Spencer as he fussed over you.

“You just had abdominal surgery,” Spencer responded simply, as if that was meant to clarify everything for you. He continued fluffing your pillow, which wasn’t entirely productive considering you were lying on the pillow.

As it turned out, you had experienced what was called a precipitous birth, or a rapid birth. It tended to be dangerous, and the fact that you did it in your bathtub only heightened that danger. You reached your arm out for Spencer, “c’mere,” you muttered, trying to get him to stop fretting. “Did you listen to anything that the doctor just said?”

Spencer nodded in understanding, “Lots of rest, no physical exertion, IV medication for now-“

“Did you hear the part where he said I was going to be okay?” You asked, raising your eyebrows at him curiously, you watched as he took your hand in his and sat on the edge of your bed. “I’m going to be fine,” your voice was determined, you had a few small incisions on your abdomen from the surgery to repair a tear in your uterus. “Thank you for looking after me,” you whispered.

Your husband gently smoothed your hair back from your face, “I should’ve noticed it sooner.”

Using all of your strength, you squeezed his hand comfortingly, “You were incredible,” you assured him. “If it weren’t for you, neither of us would’ve made it.”

He shook his head, “Don’t say that.”

Raising your eyebrows, you cocked your head to the side, “It’s true. I couldn’t have done it on my own, I’m so, so thankful for you, my love.”

You had passed out in the ambulance as a direct result of blood loss, so you were brought to a trauma bay as soon as you made it to the hospital. Once they were in the ER, the baby was taken to the NICU, leaving Spencer with a lot of decisions to make.

When you woke up in the recovery room, the first thing you did was ask about the baby.

Spencer, of course, had been up to see him. The nurses claimed he seemed like a fighter, and Spencer knew the survival odds of a 32-weeker, so he turned his attention to you. Every other option had already failed, so the next option was a laparoscopy. Your husband admitted that while it seemed extreme, the very last choice was a hysterectomy, and he didn’t want to make that decision.

Furrowing your brows, “When can I see the baby?” You asked, not entirely sure how to refer to the infant just yet. It wasn’t until then that you realized you needed to name him at some point – your son.

“Once your blood pressure goes up,” Spencer told you with an authoritative tone. “You lost a lot of blood in the ambulance, but the blood transfusions will bring your blood pressure back up.”

Tilting your head to the side, you glared at your husband, “And is this rule from a doctor with a medical degree or a doctor whose name is on my marriage certificate?”

In response, Spencer shrugged, sitting in the beige armchair at the side of your bed, “That’s a secret I’ll never tell.”

You rolled your eyes dismissively, “Will you go see him?”

He leaned over the edge of your bed, taking your hand in his. “I can, will you be alright on your own?”

Nodding almost imperceptibly, you squeezed his hand affectionately, “I just don’t want him to be alone.” You whispered as tears pricked your eyes, you took your free hand and waved at your face, “god, what’s wrong with me?”

“A sudden drop of estrogen and progesterone immediately following birth causes mood swings. Nothing is wrong with you, your body is acting naturally,” Spencer explained patiently, dropping a gentle kiss on your lips.

You sighed before melting back into your pillows, “At least something about this feels natural,” you responded. Your brain felt like a spinning top, while your body felt like you were being weighed down by an elephant in a commercial for COPD medication.

The fact that the NICU nurse informed you that your son had a ninety-five percent chance of living a completely normal life did nothing to calm your nerves. He’d have to stay in the NICU for a few weeks and you tried to convince yourself that the extra time to prepare for him to come home would be good for you, but the idea of leaving him alone at the hospital – save for a small army of doctors and nurses – put a pit of dread in your chest.

Spencer had the forethought to warn you about the tubes and wires that he was hooked up to, ranging from oxygen to a feeding tube. “He’s been undergoing red light therapy to be treated for jaundice, but you can hold him for a while if you want to,” the nurse told you, leading the both of you through the NICU as Spencer steered your wheelchair through the hospital.

Your breathing hitched when you finally saw him, this tiny stowaway that had been growing inside of you for the last several months, and he was just so little. While you were still in your own room, you had convinced yourself that you’d hold him, but now you weren’t so convinced.

According to the sign in his room, he weighed three pounds and ten ounces and was sixteen inches long. He was sound asleep in an incubator, a small hat on top of his head, “Spence,” you breathed.

Behind you, your husband placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, “I know.”

“Did you want to hold him?” The nurse asked you gently, looking over at one of the machines that he was hooked up to.

Genuinely, you didn’t know. “Is… is that okay?” You asked, wiping your sweaty palms on the blanket draped across your legs.

The nurse gave you a knowing look, “Even better than okay, it’ll be good for him to have that kind of contact from both of his parents.”

Frowning, you watched as it took two nurses to break him out of his acrylic prison before they carefully placed him on your chest, making sure you were okay before they stepped back. Your movements were stiff at first, you had never held a baby this small before, but you eventually remembered to breathe and gently cooed at the baby in your arms.

Spencer crouched down next to you and started to ask the nurse a bunch of questions that he had likely been holding in for hours, but you just kept your eyes on the sleeping baby. He was too small to open his eyes, but everyone assured you that he’d get there.

The nurse stepped out to give you some privacy, leaving the door open just in case you needed something, “This doesn’t seem quite as difficult while I’m holding him.” You knew there was a steep learning curve ahead, but with a newborn on your chest, the pit in your heart dissipated.

“That’s called oxytocin,” Spencer said, sitting in a chair, eyes fixated on the infant in your arms.

Humming, you skimmed the pad of your thumb across your son’s tiny back, “He looks like you,” you observed quietly, they had the same nose.

Your husband smiled softly, “You can’t possibly tell which parent he takes after yet,” he informed you.

“And yet, I know he looks like you,” you insisted softly, and Spencer didn’t push back. “You look like your daddy,” you whispered to the baby, “he was the first one to hold you, you know?” You looked over at Spencer, “he’s been my superhero for four years, and now he gets to be yours too.”

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ziggyzolch · 7 months ago

Text

Queen Bee-atch Ⅷ (Regina George x Reader)

Warnings: hospital. i think thats it.

✮✮✮

Mechanical whirring and beeping with the sound of Regina’s leg bouncing filled the waiting room. It was coming up to 6 hours since they’d taken you in for surgery.

“Can you stop?” Janis snaps at Regina, who rolls her eyes.

“I’m not complaining about how disgusting it is that you’re picking at your nails in public!” Regina retorts, but stops her leg bouncing anyways.

The tension was palpable, almost unbearable.

After a moment of silence, Regina’s leg starts again.

“God!” Janis gets up to walk away, when she bumps into someone. “Janis!” Your mom gives your friend a hug, “Where’s my daughter?” Janis scratches the back of her head. “She’s in that room,” She points, “But they aren’t letting us in yet.” Your mom raises an eyebrow, “Us? Is Damien here?” Janis steps to the side, revealing Regina behind her.

“Oh. Hello.” She doesn’t offer the same warmth as she did with Janis. Regina awkwardly waves and introduces herself, internally cursing at herself at how lame she was being.

Your mother turns back to Janis with a smile, saying something in Arabic. Janis stares while Regina attempts to hold in her laugh.

“What?”

Your mothers smile falters, “Aren’t you Lebanese?” Regina bursts out in laughter, covering her mouth at Janis’s glare. “Uh, no. I’m a lesbian. Your daughter misheard me.”

A look of realization crosses over your mothers face before she recovers, “No matter, let’s sit, yes?” She places a hand on Janis’s shoulder, guiding her to take a seat next to her while she sat in between her and Regina.

Regina was shocked at how calm your mother was for a woman whose daughter had her leg snapped in half. Even Janis was freaking out.

“So, Regina, how do you know my daughter?”

Janis answers, “She bullied her for like two years.”

Regina attempts to lean over your mother to slap Janis's leg.

Your mothers jaw clenches, “So why, pray tell, are you waiting for her looking like you’re about to soil yourself?”

Your mother’s tone was accusatory, making Regina stumble over her words. She takes a breath, glares at Janis then starts, “It’s true, I was horrible. But I have since made up for it!”

“Hm.” Your mother grabs a magazine from the little cupboard next to the couch, effectively ending the conversation.

“How are you so calm? No offense.” Janis asks after a couple seconds of silence.

Your mother sighs, placing the magazine down.

“My daughter is not a…careful person. She’s been in the ER more times than I can count.”

Regina chimes in, worry evident in her voice, “Why?”

The woman smiles, making Janis and Regina look at each other in confusion,

“Have you girls not seen how clumsy she is? Last week, I watched her bump into two different walls 5 seconds within each other.”

The conversation is interrupted by a doctor peeking his head out of the room you were in, announcing to them that they could now enter. The first thing they hear when they go in is your laughing,

“Hey, Breakfast Club.”

They all groan, refusing to laugh at your joke. Regina approaches you first, sitting on the edge of the hospital bed and caressing your cheeks, “Poor baby. How are you feeling?”

Your mother raises an eyebrow at Regina’s behavior, but doesn’t say anything.

“I’m chilling. I could take over the world, probably.” You start giggling as the doctor walks up to you, writing something down on his clipboard.

“The surgery went well. We’ll keep her here overnight to monitor for any infection.”

Your moms eyes widen, “Can someone tell me what happened exactly?”

You sluggishly turn your head towards your mother, “I saved the universe.”

The woman rolls her eyes, taking a seat on the other side of the bed. Janis gives her a run down of what happened, while Regina’s eyes stay fixed on you.

“It was an open tibia fracture, so it’ll take her 6-12 months to fully heal.” The doctor says before exiting the room.

“She’s gonna be a huge pain in the ass for the next 6-12 months.” Janis jokes, walking towards your bed. You flip her the bird, laughing when Regina and your mother reprimand you at the same time.

Your smile drops when your mom gets up, “Where are you going?” Your mother sighs, checking her phone and adjusting her jacket, “I have a work thing. Janis, I trust you to keep her entertained. Regina,” She looks her up and down, “I trust that you won’t let her jump in front of any more buses.” Your mother ignores Regina's sputtering, making her way out.

You roll your eyes when you hear her on a phone call the second the door closes behind her. “What a byotch.”

✮✮✮

It’s been an hour since you fell asleep, Regina and Janis had refused to leave you alone, and the tension was back. They hadn't made eye contact since your mother left, despite sitting opposite each other on either side of you.

Janis’s phone ringing broke the uncomfortable silence. She sighs and answers her phone,

“Hey Damien, yeah she’s okay…” Janis exits the room for the rest of the call, not wanting to wake you up. Regina looks down at your clammy forehead, moving your baby hairs to the side. “Idiot.” She mumbles with a smile.

Janis walks in to find Regina placing a kiss on your forehead. She rolls her eyes, announcing her presence by pushing the door closed harder than necessary.

Regina pulls away, opting to hold your hand instead. “How did this even happen?” Janis questions as goes back to her place on the bed. Regina raises an eyebrow,

“Uh, bus?”

Janis groans, “No, how did you guys happen.”

Regina lets out a breath, “I…honestly don’t know. She’s too forgiving for her own good.”

Janis scoffs before Regina corrects herself, “No! What I mean is...I did everything to make up for it, but I feel like it wasn’t enough for her to forgive me y’know?.”

Janis sighs, nodding, “I sat on her old guitar once by accident and broke the neck, she refused to let me pay for a new one. Even paid for food after.”

She looks away, “I’m sorry, for the whole scheming thing, by the way.”

Regina huffs out a laugh, “I guess we’re even now.”

✮✮✮

“Honey, are you sure you can go to the school from here?” Your mother asked as she helped you out of the car, handing you your crutches and adjusting your dress. “Yeah, Regina said she’d pick me up from here, either way I could just get an uber.” You reassured her, adjusting yourself on your crutches. Your mother looks at you for a moment before slapping her hands together awkwardly, “Alright. Stay at Regina's tonight, yeah? I have a date coming over.”

You watch her drive away before making your way into the building. This place was a maze! After wandering around aimlessly for a while, you finally made it to your destination. Ignoring the stares, you took your seat in the audience. Watching the two teams solve math questions faster than you could comprehend was surprisingly entertaining. Cady and a girl you couldn't care less about approach the stands at the front of the stage. Your heart beats wildly as you watch Cady stand in silence while everyone leans forward in anticipation.

“The limit does not exist!”

You cheer loudly, using your crutches to pull yourself up. Cady looks up to find you attempting to raise an arm up in celebration. She raises both thumbs at you, laughing when you almost fall over. She bids goodbye to the team, walking towards the exit.

“What are you doing here?” Cady says as you slowly approach her at the doors.

“I figured you’d want some support. Also Kevin posted that he had a ‘mega hot chick’ in his team on his story. Figured it was you.”

Cady huffs out a laugh, walking with you towards the parking lot.

“Janis told me what happened while I was gone, by the way,” Cady’s smile drops. You’re quick to reassure her, “Hey, it isn’t the end of the world!” You adjust your crutches to pat her on the shoulder, “Have you seen the way these people move from one gossip to another? You’ll be fine.” Cady smiles, eyebrows scrunching in thought, “Thank you. When did you get so wise?”

You blink, “Since I got hopped up on painkillers, babeh.”

Cady’s laugh stops at the sight of Regina’s trademark convertible. “Come on, losers!” Regina parks her car, getting out to help you into the passenger seat and placing your crutches in the trunk. Cady stays in her place before Regina rolls her eyes, walking up to her and lightly pushing her towards the backseat. “Don’t be weird. I made a promise to be nice, don’t make it any harder on me.” Regina says while getting back in the driver’s seat.

“You look beautiful,”

Regina blushes at your compliment, leaning over to place a kiss on your cheek, “Flatterer.”

She buckles you in before herself, then starts driving. You were about to ask Cady about life since taking blame for the burn book, when you catch her leaning her head out the car, letting the wind blow through her hair. You decide to let her be.

✮✮✮

You were in the bathroom with Cady, the door muffling the horrible music playing at the dance as you attempted to pull out your eyeliner. Regina ordered her to stay with you while she went to make up with Gretchen and Karen, despite your reassurances that you’d be fine.

“I’m sorry you’re stuck with me.” You say, groaning when you drop your eyeliner.

Cady goes to pick it up, “You’re the least mad at me, I’d rather it be you than anyone else.”

You attempt to shrug, “True. I’m bad at holding grudges.” You shuffle around awkwardly, “Can you help me with my mascara?” She smiles at you, nodding.

“You gonna talk to Janis?” Cady’s smile falters slightly,

“Yeah, I guess I have to.”

“Don’t worry,” You pause until she finishes the first eye, “Janis holds grudges hardcore-”

“Oh great.”

“But! She’s chill after an apology.”

Cady finishes up with your other eye before capping and placing your mascara in your handbag. “We’ll see. You really do look beautiful, by the way.”

You offer her a half-smile, “I’m on crutches with an ugly, obnoxious, lime green cast,”

She picks at a loose thread on her jacket, “I’m sorry,”

You shrug, “No need, I basically broke my own leg. Also, I’m on way too many painkillers right now to care.”

The conversation is interrupted by Damien storming in,

“Hey! Regina told me you were in here. Come on! They're announcing the queen-" Damien catches sight of Cady, "Oh, hello.”

Cady shuffles on her feet. You roll your eyes and nudge her to walk with you as Damien rushes back out.

You follow Damien to the front of the crowd, using your crutches to push people out of the way. Cady had opted to stay at the back, not wanting to bring attention to herself.

Regina spots you from the stage and blows you a kiss. You’re attempting to conceal the blush on your face when someone smacks your back. “Ow! What the fuck, Janis.”

Janis laughs, adjusting her tie, “Looking good dude, your cast lowkey ruins it though.”

You sigh, “Yeah, they shouldn’t have let me pick the color. I was high and thought it’d be funny.”

You look at Damien and Janis, “You both look dapper, by the way. Straight out of a 60’s sitcom.”

Your attention turns towards Principal Duvall as he announces the winners. You pretend to gag when Shane Oman wins, making Regina crack a smile.

Her smile drops when Cady’s name is announced. Janis laughs when she catches Cady squinting at the harsh spotlight shining on her, making you nudge her shin with your crutch in warning.

“Woo! Cady!”

Janis and Damien roll their eyes at your cheering. You smile throughout her whole speech, laughing when Damien dramatically gasps at her breaking the crown and handing the pieces out.

Regina winks at you and shows off her piece of the crown, making you giggle until you feel something bounce off your forehead.

“Shit! Sorry…” Cady mumbles.

She finishes off her speech and approaches your group. “Hey, so…are we still in a fight?”

“Are you still an asshole?”

“I don’t think so?”

Janis smiles, “Then we’re good”

You bounce to the best of your ability, “I am over the moon-”

“Alright-” Janis holds you up when you almost topple over.

“Over the moon.” You repeat.

Your glance behind Cady, “Hey, I think someone’s waiting for you.” She glances behind you, “You too.”

You turn to find Regina smiling warmly at you, “Hey,” You hobble over to her, “Hey, yourself.”

She looks at your crutches, trying to figure out how to dance with you when an idea pops into her head. You screech, dropping your crutches as she lifts you to wrap your legs around her, holding the bottoms of your thighs.

“Regina!” She smirks, ignoring you and spinning around. You tuck your head into her neck, mumbling. Regina slows, switching to slowly swaying you, “What was that, baby?”

You lift your head up, “You’re my favorite person.”

Regina’s smile is impossibly wide as she leans in to kiss you. You pull away when you hear Janis yell at you to ‘Get a room!’, catching your breath while Regina lightly rubs her nose against yours.

“Hey guys, I broke a spotlight, we gotta dip.” You barely process what Janis says before you catch her and Damien sprinting out of the school. You turn back to Regina, giggling when she attempts to pick up your crutches while holding you.

Cady catches her struggling and walks up to you, her man-candy walking alongside her. Regina lets out a breath of relief when they offer to help. Aaron holds you up as Regina places you down to pick up your crutches and hand them to you.

“Thanks.” You smile up at Aaron.

“No problem, Gerard.”

Cady and Regina laugh when you turn to them, wide eyed. “I’m sorry babe, I used it once around them and it stuck.” You groan, “Ugh, let’s just go.”

✮✮✮

“Okay. How’s the weather right now? Don’t look up!” You were all gathered in Regina’s backyard, sitting in a circle. Karen keeps her eyes trained on you as she pushes her boobs together. You raise your eyebrows in amusement. “It’s like, kind of cloudy a little.” You glance at the sky, giving her a thumbs up when it is, in fact, ‘like, kind of cloudy a little’.

Regina pokes your stomach, making you giggle and everybody else roll their eyes. You raise an eyebrow at Cady and Aaron. “What are you guys annoyed about? You’re basically having sex in front of us right now.”

Cady’s face goes red as Aaron barks out a laugh, “She’s literally just on my lap, you were the one face-fucking Regina.” It’s your turn to blush as Regina laughs, crossing her legs and pulling you into her lap.

She hands you a toaster strudel from the snack tray, looking away and blushing when you moan at the taste, “God these are so good,”

Gretchen perks up, “My father invented those, y’know.”

“Yes, Gretchen, we know.” You slap Regina’s thigh. She sighs and apologizes to Gretchen, unable to stop her eyes from rolling to the back of her head.

“We’re back!” Damien and Janis come out of the house, holding guitars behind their backs.

You angle your body slightly to face Regina. “You have two fucking guitars!” She laughs as Janis hands you one, plopping down next to you while Damien hands her the other one.

You signal to Janis to start playing something, you’d follow along. You let her strum for a while, eye brows furrowed trying to figure out what song she’s playing. She must've adjusted it to be playable on acoustic or something.

Damien seems to catch on before you as he starts singing,

“When I was…a young boy…”

Everybody starts laughing. This nickname was going to be the death of you.

You start reluctantly strumming along with Janis as Damien's singing intensifies. Regina sways you slightly, shocking you when she joins in on the singing.

You stop in the middle of the song, using 'overexertion' as an excuse.

You put the guitar aside as Janis and Damien get up to bow, while the rest start filing into the house.

You twist your body around, making Regina adjust her position so you could straddle her. “You’re more emo than me, Blondie.” She gasps dramatically, “I don’t think so, Gerard-"

“I love you.”

Regina giggles, “You’re such a lesbian.”

You groan, hiding your face in the crook of her neck. She tuts, lifting your chin up,

“I love you too.”

✮✮✮

A/N: That's the end! Thank you so so sos sososososososos much for reading. sorry if i bungled the medical stuff, so tired didnt proofread. anyways, I might do one-shots for this universe, or other stuff if you guys have requests. but thats it for now! I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. <3 <3

Tag list: @itzyyyyyydaaaaaa @modernsapphicism @cheesysoup-arlo @ladyqueenxoxo @charleeeesworld

#regina george x reader #regina george imagine #mean girls imagines #mean girls 2024 #fanfic #wlw #regina george #mean girls #renee rapp #renee rapp x reader #regina george x you #mean girls the musical #regina george is a lesbian #wlw fiction #regina george icons #x reader

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topsurgerystuff · 7 months ago

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Now, I will expound upon the scary things. These are things that happened after top surgery that spooked me.

All of these things ended up being harmless, I just wasn’t told they would happen and couldn’t find any info about them so they scared me shitless. My intention here is to save others from similar needless panic. This is not medical advice, just a description of my experience. Well some of it is advice, but keep in mind that I’m fucking stupid and I don’t know shit. Also, Never for one second have I regretted this surgery. The only thing I miss about my tits is being able to grope them whenever I wanted.

Okay so first of all there was the bruises. Blood from the surgery had pooled in my love handles and all over my thighs under my skin and made these HUGE bruises, right, and they didn’t hurt but they were large and had funky colors and I thought “What if the blood rots under my skin”. I googled it, I asked all my friends, I tried to reach my doctors but it was the weekend so they didn’t answer so I went to urgent care and the doctor there was like “I dont know…. That’s scary….” So I was freaking out and decided I would simply wait for death to claim me. It was fine. When I finally got ahold of the doctor she said she’s never seen it before but to just watch it and tell her if it gets bigger. My body slurped that shit back up in a couple weeks, totally harmlessly. Why haven’t surgeons ever seen shit like that before? Probably because nobody’s ever freaked out about it enough to mention it to them. Either way, it was fine.

Secondly, when I had those drains in me, that was spooky because I thought “What if they get yanked out and tear up my shit” and I couldn’t take off the bandage too see or nothing but when I did eventually take them off, I saw that there are stitches around the pipes but not like holding them in you, just there to make sure the holes they put in you stay the same size they are. So if they get pulled out you don’t get seriously damaged, you just call them up and say yo can you put this shit back in me pls. There will also be little meat chunks coming through your tubes with your soup and the soup will be mildly funky smelling. That’s normal. I was told to tell them if there was like CRAZY amounts of meat or if the soup smelled absolutely nasty. Also the bolster things they put on your nips are attached directly to your nips and nothing else, so if you feel shit sliding around under your bandage, that’s the bandage sliding, not the bolsters. They didn’t tell me that so I thought I was gonna wake up with one on my back or something and not be able to put it back where it was. And they make it so it’ll be nice and slippery in there the whole time so don’t worry about the bolsters getting ripped off, there’s not enough friction in there to do that.

There was also the hydrocodone they gave me. For me, the incisions didn’t hardly hurt at all even immediately after surgery but they prescribed me hydrocodone so I took it, and I assumed I wasn’t hurting because of the drugs and that if I stopped taking them I would hurt a LOT. So here I am taking opioids and I’m so fucking dizzy and I’m violently throwing up for two days. I texted my doctor and begged to stop taking it because I thought I would get in trouble or something if I stopped without asking and she’s like “Yeah, you didn’t have to take it if you didn’t want to, its just there if you need something stronger” ohhhhhhhh well fuck me I guess. So I stopped taking it and it turns out I didn’t need pain meds at all because it barely hurts, it just feels like a really long paper cut.

Some other things, I popped a stitch in my armpit because when you first come home and your shits still all numbed up, you can’t feel it when you overstretch your arm so if you forget you’re not supposed to do that, you can pop a stitch. It got infected, I put some antibiotic on it, it took a long time to heal and it made the scar a little uglier but it didn’t cause anything crazy. I will say that my incisions go up into my armpits really far and it was real hard to keep them clean on account of all the sweat. My nipple grafts also had many tiny, shallow stitches and I thought “What if they fall out because they’re so shallow”. That’s normal. My dad said that’s how you do stitches for sensitive areas so they look pretty, and they do look pretty, and also they are supposed to fall out after a couple weeks, that is also normal. Just make sure they don’t fall out too soon I guess. Pretend you’re made of glass for the first 4 weeks, honestly.

Also, your nip has the little oil glands in it, right, and when you’re nip scabs over as it is supposed to, it will scab inside these oil pores and you’ll lose the whole rest of the scab and have these little leftover scraps, and you Must. Not. Pick them. Those pores in my nips are little craters now because I picked the scabs out of them. Every scab you pull off, even the ones that are thin and tiny and already hanging halfway off, is going to make your nip even uglier. You wont die but you will say “Ugh why did it do that”.

Also, my nip hole collects nasty shit in it that I have to clean out all the time and since I can’t feel anything in there I have the be VERY careful. Skin is actually very easy to puncture. And there’s like little caverns in there that also get stuff in them a lot so I still put antibiotic on my nips after I shower just in case? Not really sure if its infection or like dead skin… its been getting better over time at least. Sorry if that’s TMI but listen, somebody’s gotta talk about it.

Sometimes my scars, the main incisions, will get these little blackheads right in the middle of them or little pockets of infection, and I always pick at them and the scar tissue isn’t very strong so when you pick at things on your scar, you will break open all the blood vessels around it and have a big red spot and the scar tissue is such that you will not get the blackhead out anyway so just dont do that. Put some antibiotic on it. Honestly just put antibiotic on anything that looks sus. Antibiotic can solve anything.

Okay idk what else to say so end post goodbye.

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ejzah · 7 months ago

Text

The Other Shoe, Part 17

***

“Ah, no don’t cut through his eye!” Nell exclaimed, leaning over Sam’s shoulder as he held a large chef’s knife poised over a cake. It featured an almost disconcertingly accurate rendition of Deeks’ face in cake form. Below that, bright blue frosting spelled out “We love you, and we’re not kidney-ing about that”.

It was a terrible joke, but Deeks had laughed for a minute straight when Eric had proudly revealed the custom creation.

Not wanting to tempt fate, they had decided to put off any celebrations until after Deeks’ health was more stable, and when he could actually enjoy the food and other festivities. Normally, he would have been embarrassed by all the attention, especially the cake, and little tokens with his face someone (his money was on either Nell or Callen) had hidden throughout the house. This time, he knew they all needed it, so he didn’t mind that much.

“It’s a cake, Nell. I gotta cut it somewhere,” Sam pointed out patiently as Nell, now joined by Rountree gave suggestions.

“Just avoid anything important.”

Deeks shook his head, content to sit back and watch as Nell and Sam bickered over whether it was worse to cut into Cake Deeks’ eyes or mouth. Fatima was in favor of cutting into the hair first.

Eventually, they each ended up with a slice and ice cream (Deeks decided to skip the ice cream in deference to his new kidney) and migrated out onto his and Kensi’s patio with their dessert and drinks.

“So, when you gonna come to the gym with me?” Sam asked Deeks, poking him in the bicep with his spoon. “Gotta get you in fighting shape again.”

“Let’s not rush anything. I’m not entirely comfortable with the number of push-up and crunches he’s doing as it is. He doesn’t need any encouragement,” Kensi protested.

“And this guy ran a 5K the week after the surgery,” Callen revealed without a hint of remorse.

Kensi sighed in mock disappointment. “We have to keep our eyes on them all the time.”

“You two are cute,” Sam said with a sarcastic smile. “So, what do you say Deeks? You and me at the gym, Monday morning at 5:30. It’ll be like old times.”

“I don’t know if I’m ready for that just yet.” Deeks chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m probably weaker than when you met me at that MMA gym.”

“I’ll be gentle. At first.”

“Moving on,” Kensi said firmly. “What’s next for you guys, Eric, Nell?”

“We’ll be leaving for Tokyo on Monday,” Eric answered. “I wish we could stay longer, but we really do need to get back. Our second in command is doing an amazing job, but he’s ready to not be in charge again.”

“We’re going to miss you so much,” Fatima said.

“And next time let’s not wait until there’s a catastrophe,” Kensi added.

“Yeah, cause I don’t think I have another organ to lose,” Deeks joked, and Kensi nudged him in the side with her elbow.

“Too soon, babe.”

“You think I’m adorable.” She managed to glare at him for approximately two more seconds before she gave in, kissing the tip of his nose.

They continued talking, reminiscing about past cases, and embarrassing moments well into the night. By popular demand, Sam and Deeks took turns recounting their MMA match, with frequent interjections from Kensi, Eric, and Callen.

When Deeks noticed a cycled of yawning start, he caught Kensi’s eye, and they stood up together. Nell eyes them curiously, but didn’t shift from where she lounged on the loveseat next to Eric.

Deeks cleared his throat, feeling unusually self-conscious. Kensi wrapped her arm around his waist, silently supporting him. “Um, while we had everybody together again, I just wanted to say a few words. I,” he glanced down at Kensi, who nodded, squeezing even tighter. “We can’t tell you how much we appreciate and value your support, your time, the well-meant nagging—” there was a round of chuckles—”your sacrifice through all of this. I never would have been able to do this without you. I love you all so much.”

“We love you too!” Nell called out, hopping up to hug them. “I think everyone on this patio agrees that we’d do it all again a hundred times if necessary.”

“Definitely,” Callen agreed, completely serious for once.

“Anything for family,” Sam added, lifting his beer.

“To family.”

As everyone echoed the sentiment, Deeks look around at the mismatched group of people who had shown up to support him and Kensi more than he could ever have imagined. He had the best family.

***

A/N: I think we have just an epilogue after this. I hope you’re enjoying the fluff and family bonding after all the angst.

#ncis la fanfiction #densi #marty deeks #kensi blye #Sam and Callen #Eric and Nell #Fatima and Rountree #fluff #the other shoe #part 17 #au #ejzah fanfiction

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aerodaltonimperial · 1 year ago

Note

Jack AU: Jack and Darby are room mates in a hospital

(The only hospital drama I’ve seen is Grey’s, and that place always on fire or being robbed or bombed or held up at gunpoint or planes coming down so…)

At first, Jack is alone in the room, which is great, because he kind of hurts all over and likes to be able to groan about the pain without anybody listening. But after a few hours, it seems like the rest of the victims are being moved out of surgery, and he ends up with a roommate.

He doesn’t complain, because a hotel collapsed. An entire hotel collapsed, and he’s lucky they could get everyone in; sheer numbers alone should have made it impossible. But it does mean that they have to double people up in rooms. Jack’s new roommate is unconscious, so it’s still quiet.

That’s fine. As long as the guy doesn’t up and die, anyway.

His roommate doesn’t die. Honestly, that feels like adding so much more trauma to a day Jack is already going to need extensive therapy for. He watched the topmost floor implode on itself as the rest of the building supports went down like dominoes, one after another. So the guy not flatlining in the first hour is actually great news. He even ends up opening his eyes, which are blue where Jack can see around the swelling.

But the nurses are running through the halls, and Jack’s pressed the button on his bed three times without answer. Since they’re both hooked up to machines announcing their continued existence, they don’t seem to be as important as the other people who, uh, might be faring worse.

“Hey,” Jack tries. The guy’s on oxygen, so talking is not gonna happen, right? Dude got out of surgery—he’s got to be in pain, more than Jack is. Does he need more meds? He’s got the IV in, shouldn’t a nurse be coming by to make sure he’s okay? Are all the staff members used to dashing through the halls like this? “Uh, you… you need anything?”

The guy stares at Jack over the oxygen, so Jack continues, ��I’ve tried hitting the button, but, I think people are really busy? Cause the hotel collapsed? I assume you were there, too.”

He gets a nod. Progress; his roommate can still hear. That’s something.

“Sorry,” Jack says. He isn’t sure what else to say. “Can I do anything to help?”

The guy holds up one hand and sort of waves it a few times. Like he’s asking Jack to keep going. “Oh, I should keep talking?” A nod. Well, Jack can do that. His legs on fire, but talking is a good distraction. “Okay, sure. Uh, I’m Jack. Nice to meet you, under better circumstances at least. I don’t know why you were at the hotel, but I was there for a work conference. Ironic, huh? Do you think I’ll get Workers Comp for this?”

His roommate’s shoulders shake a few times. A laugh! Jack hadn’t expected that. This guy is tough as nails—probably has to be with all those tattoos. There’s a whole heap of black ink running up his left arm and disappearing beneath the flimsy hospital gown.

“So, anyway, I’m Jack,” Jack continues, “and I’m here because as the hotel collapsed, one of the umbrellas from the pool area hit me. It’s not even a cool injury. Oh, is that in bad taste? Shit, probably, but, like, it totally isn’t. A pool umbrella pinned me to the fence. Like, of all things. Do you think the universe is trying to tell me something?”

More shaking. More laughter—Jack’s on a roll here. It’s been awhile since he’s met someone who genuinely found him funny. He could get used to the warmth sliding up his chest, the pride.

When he glances over again, the guy’s watching him. Jack shrugs a little. “I’d ask your name, but…”

The cart he’s hooked up to is on wheels, and all the IV tubes and cords seem decently long. Jack scans the room. Then he reaches for the wall and drags himself, bed included, a few inches over. It’s not a lot, but it’s enough to reach the paper and pen on the little table between them. Things have been so crazy no one even bothered to put the privacy curtain up.

He hands the pen to his roommate. “Can you…?”

The guy reaches for it. Holds it terribly, but probably better than Jack could. And he scratches letters on the paper until he stops. Jack squints. “Darby? Well. Nice to meet you, Darby. Thanks for not dying and giving me more PTSD.”

That’s definitely a smile reaching up into those eyes.

It takes forever for the nurses to come back, and when one does, she’s very haggard. Jack can’t really blame her. He can see stretchers lining the hallway, so they really ran out of room following the disaster.

Darby is in and out of sleep for the first few hours. Jack pieces together that he was in surgery, and it was rough enough that the nurses are a bit surprised he’s still doing okay. Surprised, but grateful. And by grateful, apparently they are just going to ignore him now in favor of the people not doing okay. Which… okay, again, Jack wants to give them a lot of credit for saving lives, but pain medication is helpful, y’know?

He talks to Darby when the other is awake. Tells a lot of stories. For some reason, Darby seems amused by the dumb shit Jack gets up to and all the situations he seems to find himself in. Jack’s recounting of the time he got food poisoning while stuck in a bus depot seems to positively delight him.

When he dozes off again, Jack only feels a little guilty staring at him. It’s totally not his fault that Darby is, despite the hospital gown and the oxygen mask and, you know, the fact that his stomach was apparently repaired in OR3, kind of really hot.

Listen. It’s been a really bad day. Jack’s determined to find that silver lining somewhere.

“Uh, no,” Jack says. “The Marvel movies are so overrated. It’s all reliance on special effects now. Really, the CGI team should get all those awards, not the actors.”

Darby is doing that thing again where he’s laughing and shaking the tubes running into the machine beeping along with his heart. He lifts up one hand, index finger extended.

“Yeah, okay, like the first ones were pretty good,” Jack says, because he’ll give him that. “The emotional impact with the beginning should be acknowledged.”

Darby closes one eye, stares meaningfully at Jack with the other.

“I know, I know,” Jack says. “Way too many now. I can’t keep up with anything. And they aren’t in order anymore? Are there, like, multiverses in everything now? Who can understand all of this?”

Darby offers a thumbs up.

“Well, sure, it’s all better than Snyder’s Justice League,” Jack says, and sighs.

Darby’s pain meds wear off, and Jack has to hit his call button six times before a nurse shows up to help. An hour later, they make Jack get up and try to put weight on his leg, which ends up being a real shitshow of pain but he manages it. Darby claps for him, which is nice.

There’s a lot of commotion outside their room. Jack thinks quite a few people died. Actually, he doesn’t like to think about that, so he tries not to. But when he falls asleep, he has a nightmare about it. Dead bodies everywhere, the hotel on fire. And the meds in his IV keep him out when he ought to be waking up, which prolongs the horror. When he wakes up, it’s because a hand is shaking his shoulder vigorously.

Jack comes to with tears in his eyes and his throat raw. Darby has pulled his own bed closer so he could wake Jack up; it’s his hand on Jack’s bicep. Jack grapples for the man’s fingers and squeezes them, trying to avoid the tape and the needle. God, he had to have been screaming himself hoarse.

They end up falling back asleep with their hands joined, elbows balanced on the side rails.

The nurse pulls the tube out of Darby’s throat the next morning, which nearly makes Jack gag. Fuck, that’s awful, but Darby recovers faster than Jack would have. He hacks for a few moments, and then looks at the nurse blearily. “You fixed my stomach?”

“From where the pipe went through you?” The nurse asks, eyebrows hiked. “Yes. We did.”

“So I can drink coffee when I get out of here?” Darby continues, all rough and out of use and sandpaper-y.

She doesn’t seem to follow, and neither does Jack. “Eventually? Yes.”

“Okay.” Darby turns to Jack, one hand still holding his throat. “When I get released, you wanna get coffee with me?”

“Are you…” Jack blinks. “Are you asking me on a date?”

Darby grins. “Yeah.”

“You’re insane,” Jack tells him seriously.

“Is that a yes or a no?”

Jack smiles back. “Yeah, I wanna get coffee with you.”

“Sweet,” Darby says, as the nurse just grumbles at the ceiling.

It takes five weeks, but they get coffee. Jack makes sure they don’t sit near any umbrellas, and Darby holds his hand the whole time. They take a selfie and tag their location as the hotel that collapsed. It’s the dumbest shit Jack has ever done. They end up on the local news, and Jack doesn’t even care. He’s too busy on WebMD trying to figure out when Darby can attempt strenuous exercise again after extensive surgery.

(“It doesn’t really need to be that strenuous,” Darby points out. “I’ll just lay against the pillows, and you can do all the work.”

“While I’m not against this,” Jack replies, “I’m worried about ripping your stitches out.”

“Everything you say just makes me more excited about this,” Darby tells him, and Jack thinks he’s being serious.)

#tag so you don’t lose this shit #is this the dumbest thing i have ever written?#hmmmmm you be the judge lol

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mg-dango · 9 months ago

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Do you want to take a moment to be infodumped about my TF2 OC? (pls say yes)👉👈

YOOOOO Hi I’m not dead (yet)

College’s been eating me alive with homework, which hasn't allowed me to finish a single drawing or play video-games, not even sleep more than 4 hours haha (send help/j)

HOWEVER- However, I recently got an hyperfixation on TF2 and oh lord I love it, I could talk about it all day. I´ve been reading fanfiction, watching gameplays and SFM videos on youtube. I don't how could I've missed this fandom before iT’S CRAZY-

And like everytime I get so engaged on a fandom, I try to self-insert me with art, and then like everytime I try to self-insert me everytime, it fails miserably because the mf fictional interpretations of me start growing their own characteristics, differences and personalities and when I less expect it- BOOM, they´re a totally new OC with little to no hints of me in them.

Sooo this is exactly how this OC I wanna present you today was born, usually I just wait until I have 2 or 3 drawings of them and then I present them with little to no explanation on social media, but since my current free time is not letting me do anything and I’ve been dying to infodump about them, I said “f-ck it we ball” and just straight up tell you guys what I have made of this new blorbo until now:

NOTE: Some of the things about this oc are a bit stereotypical about Japanese culture, I apologize and if something makes you feel uncomfortable/bothered about it, please let me know!

Like her name suggests, she is a chef, originary from Japan. The story I currently have for her now is that Miss Pauling temporally wanted to hire a cook to boost the morale on the base, and Chef enthusiastically took the job after being kicked out of cooking school, there was one problem tho

Chef only knows to cook one single thing and It’s sushi, like, if she tries making something else, that thing ends up transforming into some kind of sushi-like thing (Like sushi-getti, sushi-taco, even sushi-sandvich and sushi-cereal).

The team at one point gets sick of always eating sushi, but for some reason (I´m still thinking of the reason) they can't fire her from her new job so they just end up making her a new member of the team

Which is actually bananas because Chef comes from a family of ninjas (I´m still thinking on the lore of that too)

Also here's the thing, everyone on the team thinks that Chef is a man, she was about to correct them but instead she discovered she liked being referred also with masculine pronouns and being perceived as a man so instead she's just internally having an identity crisis figuring out her gender while keeping it a secret.

She's been trying to avoid medic for that same reason, she hasn't gotten her übercharge-thing surgery yet because then Medic would have to see her chest and her secret would spill out

(I actually doubt medic or any other member would mind having a woman on the team but still ohhh the drama)

She can throw smoke bombs that are made of wasabi, uses an Oroshi Hocho (A knife used to cut tuna) as a sword and can make a temporary clone of herself (I’m sorry if this sounds a bit like a Mary Sue I got too excited)

Chef is Aroace (‘Cause I'm aro and I wanted an aro oc to make me feel represented), she values A LOT friendships and platonic relationships.

She likes hanging out with scout bc she thinks he is simply goofy and hilarious and a funny idiot (ur honor they’re homies)

Annnd that's all I have of Chef for now, probably gonna be changing a lot of things the longer I draw her but uh, If you have come to this part and took the bother to read all this infodumping, I wanna hug u virtually and say “thank u” I really appreciate you <3

#original character #oc wip #oc lore #team fortress 2 #team fortress 2 oc #tf2 #tf2 oc #oc infodump #my art

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wutlaikalikes · 1 year ago

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🧤📗

just my thoughts, you can keep scrolling.

I really hate vague announcements. When I saw this I thought why bother make an announcement without context and there were the 2 that had redesigns. I thought maybe there’s a problem with the artwork’s copyright and needed to clear that up. But i don’t think HoloPro is going to let that happen and won’t let them use the new models with if there is any potential problems.

If you ask me, I don’t mind not having any announcements. Their 1 year anniversary is coming up and i thought maybe they are preparing something big. I’m a HOLOSTARS 箱推し (Hako oshi), I like all of them, so I have others to watch. But for a Vestie or Magmite only, that silence is gonna deafening.

After a re-reading the announcement, I think its potencially a personal matter. Professionally, i don’t think HoloPro will tell us something that both talents might not be comfortable being announced though company twitter. At the same time, they can’t let fans think that something is wrong cause that would spiral to a bigger speculation. Hence, the vague announcement.

Since this is my blog, I can’t help but write what may have happened. Judging from Vesper’s last couple of streams, I would guess Vesper had tech issues. Although for sure that had been fixed since he had a solo World of Warcraft stream but maybe there’s more to that. For Magni, I saw a clip of him saying that he might have to get his toenail removed. Maybe he went through a minor surgery and is having a hard time moving around. Depending on the level of pain, it could be really annoying and could have an impact on your mood.

The announcement didn’t really hint anything related to Vesper and Magni and HoloPro, its just them taking a bit of a break. Don’t ask the other talents regarding this matter, I don’t think they have company wide announcements. Even if they do, they are probably not going to talk about it.

Let’s just wait for them!!

#blog

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platypanthewriter · 3 years ago

Text

Take On Me

Art by @fae-vorite for the Harringrove Big Bang!

When Steve pulled up in the drive, he had a mouthful of blue slushie, and he was watching the tiny old lady he’d been driving behind. She’d barely been tall enough to see over the dash, and as he watched, grimacing, she barely swerved around a row of mailboxes, and then carreened through a four-way stop.

As he stared after her, there was a weird hissing noise by his elbow. Steve yelled and threw his arm up in the air, spattering himself with slushie.

“Bwah!” Max yelled, stumbling back, and smacking blue slushie ice off her arm. “Steve! What the hell.”

She hadn’t been in the driveway when he pulled in, Steve was fairly sure, and he stared around. “Where are the rest of you?” he asked warily, rubbing flung slushie off his chin. He glanced up, half-expecting Dustin to swing down on him with a vine from a tree.

Max squinted at him, her jaw working, and then glanced around. “In the bushes,” she said. “Get us inside, now, Steve.”

He rolled his eyes, stalked over and held the front door open—and then swore and dropped his slushie right on the ground and ran over to help, because it wasn’t Dustin and the Chipmunks hiding in the bushes. There was a woman, shaking, her hands stained with what looked like blood, and Billy Hargrove, who apparently wasn’t dead, barely staggering between Max and the lady. He was bandaged, and half-naked.

Steve elbowed his way in past Max, and got an arm around Billy, hefting his sweaty, shivering ass towards the door.

Once Steve had Billy, Max ran ahead and kicked the slushie cup aside, ushering the woman into his house. “Mom, come on,” she groaned, and it occured to Steve that he’d never wondered about Max’s mom. It seemed obvious, thinking about it, that most people had a mom. One of his girlfriends freshman year had had two, and didn’t seem to have a dad, which Steve had never quite figured out.

Billy looked dead, mostly, pale until he was nearly grey, like instant oatmeal. “I thought you were dead,” Steve hissed at him, and he snorted a laugh.

“Guess not,” he breathed, his head against Steve’s as he stumbled along.

When they got inside, the phone was ringing, but Max ran and stood in front of it. “Don’t answer,” she told Steve, staring at him with wet red eyes. He nodded, still half-carrying her undead brother, and trying to figure out whether the blood on Max’s mom could have come from under Billy’s bandages.

“We should call somebody,” Steve pointed out, as he lowered Billy onto the couch. Billy’s eyes were closed, and he didn’t try and get himself more comfortable, or anything, he just laid there. Steve threw a blanket over him, feeling like he was covering up a body.

Max’s mom looked like she wasn’t up for much, staring at her hands and the floor, and Max took a deep, shaky breath, rubbing her face.

Steve beckoned her into the kitchen. “We should call somebody,” he whispered, again. Max set her jaw, shaking her head, and Steve made a face. “At least a doctor,” he hissed, and she deflated, staring out at the limp shape of Billy on the couch.

“H-he should be fine,” she mumbled, digging her fingernails into her forearms until the skin whitened. “He—he didn’t get shot,” she gritted out, and her mom flinched, shivering, and rubbed at her bloody hands.

“Wait,” said Steve, staring between them.

“M-my husband,” said Max’s mom, and then covered her mouth, and a shaky sob.

“You have a dad?!” Steve yelped, looking around. “He got shot?!” he added, grabbing his car keys, because it seemed like somebody should probably find the guy.

“He’s dead,” Max’s mom whispered, staring at her bloodied hands. “He died right—right in front—in front of—”

“He wasn’t my dad,” Max said flatly, “—and we don’t need to go anywhere.”

Steve nodded, and then shook his head, bewildered. He hung the car keys up by the front door, and then braced himself, and sidled over to touch Max’s mom’s shoulder, waving at the kitchen sink. “Um, d’you want to…?”

She nodded, and took a couple weaving steps to lean against a chair, which she drug to the sink. Steve leaned down to whisper to Max. “...so...somebody’s dad got shot? That’s—that’s where the blood—” he asked, feeling well out of his depth. His fingers itched to call a functioning adult—Hopper, or Joyce Byers, even, because it looked like Max’s mom wasn’t up for much more than staring at the bloody water in the sink. “Should I try and find some...tea,” Steve hazarded, and Max snorted a laugh, rubbing her eyes.

“Billy’s dad,” she whispered, watching her mom. “The, um—” she dropped her voice further. It rasped in her throat. “—Mom let them in because they told her they were the CIA.”

“The CIA shot Billy’s dad?!” Steve choked out, trying to keep it under his breath.

“They weren’t actually the CIA,” Max said, rolling her eyes. “Obviously.”

“O-obviously,” Steve echoed, because it sort of made sense. It did seem weird that the CIA would come to Hawkins, Indiana to shoot anybody’s dad.

“Mom thought they were just...checking on us, you know,” Max said, sniffling, and Steve tried to imagine assuming that the C-fucking-IA had banged on his door just to roll out the welcome wagon. “Just—just like the FBI does, all the damn time,” Max mumbled, biting her lip.

“Wait, what,” Steve interrupted with a hiss. “The what now.”

“We’re, um, we’re not really from California,” she whispered, swallowing, and biting back a sharp laugh.

“Okay,” Steve nodded, raising his eyebrows, and watching Max’s mom cry softly with her arms in the sink, and her head bowed. “Okay, yeah, no, hang on,” he told Max, jogging the couple of steps over to her mom. He poked the woman’s shoulder gingerly. “You all cleaned up?” he asked, keeping his voice soft, and she turned big watery eyes on him, but she nodded.

“Come out in the front room and sit down,” Steve told her, feeling like sitting wouldn’t really help much, but crying into the sink had to be worse. He reached in and turned the water off, and guided her by the elbow into the front room. “Gonna get everybody something hot to drink,” he told them, hoping he still had...something. Ancient instant coffee from the last time his dad was home, maybe. Something old and dusty, probably, but Steve didn’t think Max’s mom would know the difference, not after having her husband shot by somebody pretending to be the fucking CIA.

After he pointed her at the big recliner, Max started fussing around with the color-coordinated throw blankets Steve’s mom had bought and never used, and Steve stepped over to the couch to squeamishly lift the blanket off Billy’s head.

“I-I’m fine, honey,” Max’s mom told her, behind them, as Steve surveyed Billy’s pale, sweaty face. His eyes were closed, but the skin around them was as red and raw as Max’s mom’s. His eyelashes were stuck together with the fresh tears leaving trails down his cheeks.

Steve dropped the blanket again, grimacing, and stalked back into the kitchen to find the teakettle, fill it, and put it on the stove. He found some packets of hot chocolate Dustin’s mom had given him at Christmas, and dumped them into two mugs. After a minute, watching the glow of the burner shine off the bottom of the kettle, he grabbed another mug, shrugging.

Max shook her head when he walked out and tried to hand her the hot chocolate. “I’m not a little kid,” she said, glaring at him, but her mom took it with a soft sigh.

“Thank you,” she said hoarsely. “Max, sit down, I—I’m fine.” She reached out and took the mug Steve had offered Max, and held it out to her, and Max sighed heavily, but took it.

Steve went back for the third mug, and then uncovered Billy’s head again. “Hey,” he whispered, and Billy licked his chapped lips without opening his eyes. He grimaced before he blinked and squinted up. “Here, at least hold it,” Steve told him. “It’s warm.”

“...you made me tea,” Billy growled, glaring at the mug, and then, warily, at Steve’s face.

“It’s chocolate,” Max put in. “You like chocolate, asshole.”

“...made me chocolate?” Billy asked muzzily, frowning harder, and Steve sat it on the floor, in order to get his arm around Billy-suddenly-alive-Hargrove, and help him sit up.

“Are you sure you’re not...dying?” Steve whispered to him, lifting the mug and pressing Billy’s hands around it. “Like, right here? I need to, uh...kidnap a doctor, or…?”

Billy snorted into his first sip of hot chocolate, biting his lips together as his chest shook with coughs. After a few seconds, he took a shaky breath, and opened his eyes again. “Don’t...kidnap anybody,” he rasped out, smirking. “Didn’t know you had it in you, Harrington.”

“I know a guy,” Steve told him, letting go of the mug, and reaching out to tug at the bandages visible over the top of the blanket. Billy went very still, holding his breath, which was creepy. If he wasn’t sitting up, Steve would have checked his pulse. “A doctor. M’not gonna let you die,” Steve told him, eyeing the stretched pink scars under the gauze. Some of the gauze looked wet, not red, but pale yellow, and Steve grimaced, brushing his fingers over it.

“It’s just the surgeries. Fuck,” Billy creaked out, his hands shaking on the hot chocolate so it nearly spilled. “They had to cut me open a few more times. Stitch me back together.”

Steve put his hands around Billy’s on the mug, to steady them. “...I got some duct tape somewhere,” he offered, under his breath, and Billy’s breath huffed against his fingers in a laugh. His mustache tickled, but Steve held steady, watching him drink the hot chocolate. His cheeks were pinking up a little. He stunk, kinda, sweaty, and sour from his bandages. It was weird to be anywhere near Billy Hargrove and not smell his cologne. “...I thought you were dead,” Steve said under his breath, and Billy shrugged a shoulder, wincing, and swallowing hard.

“Murphy’s law,” Billy hissed back, grinning, but his eyes welled up again, and he blinked rapidly. “Whatever you least want to happen…”

Steve helped him drink the hot chocolate, trying to think of something to say. ‘Sorry your dad got shot,’ seemed wrong. ‘At least your mom’s alive,’ didn’t seem right either, and then Steve realized he had no idea whether the woman was Billy’s mom. Billy and Max’s family seemed complicated, and it was entirely possible both parents were Billy’s, and Max had been snatched from a stroller outside a grocery store.

“So, um,” Steve started. “You’re...not from California? Why would you…”

“Lie about that?” Max asked, flatly. “The goddamn FBI told us to.”

“...the ones that…” Steve stared over at her, trying not to stare at whoever’s mom’s hands, where they’d been all over blood. Max called her mom, he told himself. Whatever she is, Max thinks of her as her mom.

Maybe they’re aliens, he thought, trying not to laugh, because why was the FBI checking in. Maybe they’d all raised Max from an alien egg they’d taken turns sitting on.

She seemed okay, for an alien, he decided, as Max said, “We’re in Witness Protection. Or we were, until the Starcourt Mall footage made the national news.”

“Ohhhhh,” Steve said, nodding. “That makes more sense than aliens,” and Billy choked on his hot chocolate. “Did you see a gang murder?” Steve asked politely, that being how it usually worked in Hawaii Five-O.

Billy coughed harder, and Steve patted his back, gently, grimacing as he tried not to break the guy any further.

“Noooo,” said Max, and when Steve glanced over, she was staring at him.

“What? Shit happens,” Steve said, shrugging. “Sometimes monsters steal your brother.”

“They didn’t exactly steal him,” Max said weakly, and Steve blinked.

“I was talking about Will Byers,” he said, and shrugged. “No gang shootouts, then?”

“We lived near Portland,” Max said, like that fact made Steve’s question the stupidest question ever asked, and then she sighed. “It’s, um, it’s actually...stupider. Than that. There, um, there was a...lab. There.”

“Ohhh,” Steve said, nodding, and thinking of Hawkins Laboratory, and Eleven.

“They wanted children to...experiment on,” she whispered, and trailed off. Steve turned to see her glowering into her mug.

“Set up this machine to check the local kids,” Billy said, suddenly, near Steve’s ear. He huffed a laugh as Steve jumped. “At the arcade. Looked like a normal arcade machine, but it was keeping track, high scores, you know.” He took a shaky breath, then cleared his throat. “Even had a fake name. Polybius.”

“How the fuck was I supposed to know?!” Max shouted, suddenly, her voice wet and uneven, and her mom grabbed her close, squeezing her with white-knuckled hands. “How the hell...we saw guys in suits parked around the place, we thought maybe the owner was like...running some kind of gambling with the machines and they were watching him, or something, how could I have—”

“Went to pick her up and they were shoving her in a van,” Billy’s voice rasped, and Steve jerked unintentionally, imagining it. “I followed them to the lab and they tried to tell me it was some...class for special kids,” he hissed. “Tried to tell us all to shut up.”

“They came and talked to N-Neil and I,” Max’s mom said. “They were...we did what they asked, if they’d leave Max alone. We couldn’t talk about it, not with anyone.”

Steve nodded, familiar with the way laboratories worked, and filed away the fact that Max’s not-dad had been named Neil, before somebody’d shot him. There was a long silence, then, as Billy bit his lips together, frowning into the nearly-empty mug of hot chocolate, and Max’s mom cried softly again.

“I called the fucking police,” Max said hoarsely into the silence. “I—I called the goddamn police, they were—they were stealing kids, they—”

“Yeah,” Steve said, grimacing. He’d found out more and more about what the lab had been doing, after he’d promised to keep quiet. They’d even killed the nice burger man, he thought sadly. His name had been Benny, Steve learned later, but at the time, he’d just been the nice burger man, the one who listened and advised as Steve told him about being terrible at college application essays, and his love for the smartest girl in school.

Luckily, in Steve’s case, the sheriff had already been told. “You had to,” he agreed.

“They shot the cop she told,” Billy said flatly, in Steve’s ear.

“They were kidnapping little kids—” Max yelled at Billy, her voice cracking with emotion and he raised his voice over hers, his voice wavery as he tried to catch his breath.

“Shot him in the head. They shot his partner, too—”

“The FBI helped us sneak out,” Max’s mom said softly, but they both shut up. “We were shuffled around a lot…”

“Why bring you here,” Steve said doubtfully. “Where our lab is? I mean, it’s better, now.”

“Maybe our FBI guys weren’t as on our side as we thought,” Billy muttered, swallowing hard, again, and Steve realized he was trying not to cry.

Steve tried not to do anything, push Billy away, or anything weirder, like hug him. He’d gotten too good at this babysitting thing, he thought with a grimace, if he was inclined to hug Billy Goddamn Hargrove. The problem was, Billy’s inaudible, bitten-back sobs felt like when Nancy’s little sister was scared of the noises outside, while her parents were at the movies. Steve was conditioned to pull that kind of thing against his shoulder, even when it was Billy Hargrove, with his broad, heavy, muscular shoulders, and heavier fists.

“Fuck,” Billy hissed under his breath, pulling his hand loose from Steve’s to rub his wrist across his eyes.

“...d’you want...anything,” Steve whispered, as softly as he could, fairly sure Billy didn’t want him to sing Old MacDonald even if he was really good at all the animal noises.

“How about my dad, alive,” Billy snarled, his unsteady breaths taking the sting out of it.

“Thanks for letting us in,” Max said, hoarsely, and Steve turned to frown at her.

“Of course I let you in,” he snorted. “I wasn’t gonna leave you hiding in my bushes.”

“We—we’ll figure out what to do,” Max said, as her mother squeezed her close again. “Soon. Before—before the lab people figure out where we are.”

“We need Hopper,” Steve told them, starting to stand, and then realizing he was holding Billy up, and he didn’t want to drop him on the floor. He wasn’t sure how together Billy was under the bandages—he didn’t seem very...healed—and the thought of dropping him on the floor, and just accidentally jostling all Billy’s internal organs out through a big hole in his back made Steve shudder.

“You can’t call him,” Max’s mom said bleakly. “They were listening to our phones. They said, as we...ran,” she choked out.

“...bet they aren’t listening to walkie-talkies,” Steve told her, absently spreading his fingers over the cool skin of Billy’s shoulder, to warm him up.

“Where’s yours?” Max asked breathlessly, and Steve gave her directions to his sock drawer.

Billy was shivering harder, and Steve waited until his little sister and maybe-mom weren’t looking to pull the blanket away from more of his bandages.

There was red smeared on them. “Billy,” Steve hissed, urgently, and Billy laughed wetly, wiping his nose.

“‘S not mine,” he laughed, a little hysterically. “S’my dad’s. He—he died right—”

“Shit,” Steve said, blankly, watching Billy try to wipe it away with shaking hands, tears rolling down his cheeks. “That can’t…” he trailed off as Max brought the walkie-talkie down, and she and her mom started whispering about what to say. “You need new bandages,” Steve told Billy, the one thing he was confident he could do. “I need to clean you up.”

“I’m fine, fuck,” Billy panted, sniffling juicily, and Steve nodded once.

“I’m taking Billy up to...clean him up,” Steve told the other two, and they nodded, watching him.

“He’s still got stitches,” Max said, glaring. “Don’t get him wet.”

‘Your dad’s blood got all over’ didn’t seem like the right thing to say ever, so Steve just nodded, and got Billy fairly upright.

“How far we going,” he panted, swaying, and Steve made a face, then turned around.

“Piggyback,” he announced, and Billy swore under his breath.

“Fuuuck,” Billy whispered in Steve’s ear, as Steve made his way carefully up the stairs, steadying himself with one hand on the railing, and one hand awkwardly supporting Billy’s ass. “Watch it there, Harrington,” Billy snorted, with a pained grunt.

“Sorry,” Steve told him. “Is this like how you can’t squeeze the donuts at the store unless you buy them?” he asked, because Billy was heavy, and his ass cheek was soft in Steve’s hand, and Steve’s tongue was on cruise control.

Billy coughed, his fingers digging into Steve’s shoulder and chest as he gave a strangled-sounding laugh. “...yeah, Harrington, it’s exactly like that,” he gasped out. “I’m...your fucking donut...now, asshole.”

Steve laughed so hard he almost dropped him, all the adrenaline of them showing up covered in blood draining out of him. “Shit,” he panted, staggering up onto the landing, and taking a minute to breathe. “Don’t make me laugh on the stairs—”

“You started this shit, I just finished it,” Billy mumbled against his neck. His breathing was uneven and shuddery.

Steve took a slow breath to steady himself, and carried Billy just that little bit further through his plaid bedroom, and into the bathroom.

Billy didn’t even comment on the extreme plaid, his teeth chattering, so Steve nearly dropped him on the toilet in his urgency to get a few inches of really hot water in the tub to plonk Billy in. It’d be just like with Holly, he figured, put few inches of water in there to keep her warm, but not enough so she could slide in and drown. It wouldn’t be enough to get up near Billy’s bandages, he told himself, then, while the water was running, he realized he didn’t know where all the bandages were, so he reached over and yanked at the drawstring of Billy’s sweatpants.

“WAH,” Billy said, grabbing Steve’s hand with his cold, sweaty, shaking one. “...what,” he breathed, his eyes falling shut, and then blinking stubbornly open again.

“Come on,” Steve said, grimacing at how pale he was. “You got any bandages below the chest?” Billy just shivered and breathed, staring into the middle distance, and Steve finally bit his lips together and grabbed Billy’s cold face, turning it to face him. “Billy,” he said. “Billy?”

“...Harrington,” Billy whispered, focusing on him, and then looking around, his eyes welling up again with tears.

“Come on, stay with me, I’m gonna get you warmed up,” Steve told him, ignoring his own heart pounding. He was aware of shock as a concept—he’d seen Joyce Byers after—after. But Billy had bandages, he could be bleeding out, or something, and the thought made Steve’s fingers clumsy as he tried to lift the guy enough to get his sweatpants off, and pull him into the bath.

“Come on,” Steve whispered, pulling Billy up until he was sort of standing. Steve had to reach down and lift Billy’s feet one by one into the tub, and he yelped, opening his eyes again at the heat. “Just gonna clean you up,” he muttered, pretty sure Billy wasn’t hearing him, what with the way he was slumped against Steve’s side. Steve lowered him into the water, and Billy shook his head, mumbling inaudibly.

Steve held his shoulders for a long moment, watching his face, and then yanked at the bandages. Billy still had some stitches underneath, but to Steve’s profound relief, it didn’t seem like any of the blood was his—or that the blood had seeped in anywhere. From what Steve remembered of reading Johnny Tremain in middle school, gangrene was a possibility if stuff got past Billy’s stitches, and so he was very careful to wipe around them.

Billy relaxed slowly against the back of the tub, his head tilting to rest against the corner as his eyes closed. His hands occasionally lifted to touch Steve’s, and then fell away as Steve washed him all over, until he was pink and warm, and didn’t smell like sour sweat anymore. Billy snored softly under his fingers, and Steve bit back a laugh.

The bath water started to cool, and Billy’s shoulders started to clench again, his legs goosepimpling, so Steve ran the hot water again. He pulled the plug on the cooler water, then when the tub was empty, replugged it. As the hot water rose, he ran out to grab an old plastic cup from his desk—he had to dump the pencils out—and pour warm water over Billy’s legs.

Billy screamed, this awful broken noise, scrambling to get out of the tub, and Steve yelped and turned the water off, helping frantic, naked Billy Hargrove out of the tub and half into his lap. He was slippery and warm, and Steve tried not to think about it, stretching to try and reach a towel, but Billy was laughing brokenly into his hands, muttering “I’m me, Harrington, I’m fucking sorry, I’m the best you’re gonna get, I’m still me, I’m Billy goddamn Hargrove—”

“Shit, I know,” Steve told him, as Billy’s wet shoulder soaked into his t-shirt. “You’re Billy, you’re okay, shit. You were just cold, I wasn’t trying to—”

“Maybe I’m better as the Mindflayer,” Billy laughed, gulping and sniffling. “Could’ve taken out that lab guy before…” he took a shuddering breath, wiping his nose. “Not just...let my dad get fucking shot,” he whispered. “F’I wasn’t such a waste of space I’d have answered the door.”

With a sinking horror, Steve realized he had his arm around a naked guy in his bathroom, a naked guy who’d once beaten him unconscious. A naked dude who wished he was dead. “Maybe it wouldn’t have made a difference,” he said, after some thought. “You don’t know he’d have gotten away. Max’d be crying over you again.”

“Like she would,” Billy snorted, reaching for the toilet paper and loudly blowing his nose.

“She did, though,” Steve told him, and Billy glared over.

“Yeah, right,” he said, and then opened his mouth again, shut it, and wiped his eyes. “...what the fuck am I doing here,” he grunted.

“Uh, well,” Steve started, “—you were um, playing an evil videogame in Oregon—”

“Shut the fuck up,” Billy laughed, wheezing with pain. “Why are you...why’d you—” he mumbled, as Steve set his jaw determinedly and wrested him up from the floor, dragging Heavy-Ass-Hargrove out to his bed, and tipping him into the sheets.

The bandages were an adventure, with Billy falling asleep--and he finally fell asleep again right on Steve, as Steve tried to get him dried off.

He didn’t wake up for hours, until Steve was sitting up in bed, on the phone with Hopper. Billy blinked big blue disoriented eyes up at him, frowning grouchily, and Steve held his finger up to his lips, listening to Hopper explain the situation.

“It’s okay,” Steve hissed to Billy. “You’re with me, you’re safe.”

Billy stilled, watching him, then snorted a laugh as his eyes drifted shut. “...’kay, Harrington, he mumbled, sighing contentedly as he curled into the warm pillows.

Steve smiled, and rolled his eyes.

#The Hargroves were in witness protection #But the scary people caught up #Harringrove Big Bang #harringrove #Hurt/comfort

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crysalita · 3 years ago

Text

Left Behind

Bo Sinclair x Reader

Word Count: 2439

Warnings: Suicide mentioned when Bo is telling the story about Trudy.

I had to admit that I never actually wanted to be here, on a road trip that is, but somehow I had managed to find myself getting an invite from Carly, who claimed there needed to be more girls. I reluctantly agreed to tag along, and so far I was regretting that poorly made decision.

I was a third wheel as I lagged behind Carly and Wade. I felt as if all I had done so far since we arrived in this town was either roll my eyes or sigh at their constant flirting. If I had of known that this is what my day was going to consist of then I would have said no in a heartbeat.

The small town we had arrived in gave me strange vibes, whether it was because the town was oddly empty even though we could hear chatter, or whether it was because of the two men that we had come across.

Bo, the man that works at the gas station, spent most of the time eyeing me down after the run in at the church, I didn’t know how to feel about it.

“So, Y/n. What did you think about Bo? He seems to have taken quite an interest in you.” Carly teased, nudging my shoulder.

We were in the gas station looking for whatever part that Wade needed.

“Don’t be stupid, he was just being friendly.” I scowled.

“Coming from a guys perspective, he definitely finds you hot.” Wade spoke up.

I sent him a glare. “Just look for that part.”

“He’s got everything, but a 15 inch. I’ll just have to use a 16 inch.” Wade grabbed a hold of the strap that he needed, but we were startled when we heard another voice.

“Are you planning on stealing that?” When I turned around, I was met with Bo leaning against the door frame, still in his suit and tie. I had to admit that the suit did look good on him.

“No, we just didn’t know how much longer you were gonna be, and you know, we didn’t wanna interrupt again.” Wade rushed out. “But I left you some money on the counter, but you don’t even really have the right size. You don’t have any 15 inches.”

“I do at the house.” Bo replied, not looking in the slightest bit like he was convinced by Wade’s constant stuttering, I couldn’t blame him though, Wade made us look more suspicious than we actually were.

“Look, I hope you’re not getting the wrong idea that we’re in here.” Carly attempted to ease the tension.

“Yeah, we already feel bad enough after interrupting the first time, we just didn’t want to do it again.” I smiled politely. In return, Bo sent me one of his own smiles and gestured for us to come out of the shed.

“No worries. That was in the past. We can move on from that.” Bo replied as he held the door open for us.

“You keep fan belts at your house?” Wade asked.

“I get things delivered there when I’m not here. Look, if you want to hold onto the 16, that’s fine by me.” Bo was looking more agitated by the minute.

“No, it’s okay.”

Bo led us outside of the gas station and we began our journey to the house that Bo lived at. My legs were already tired enough as it was from all the walking we had done, and I honestly wasn’t trying to do anymore.

“So, is it too late to sign Carly up for that beauty pageant?” Wade asked with a smirk on his face.

“Now unfortunately it is, well at least for you-” Bo turned and nodded in my direction. “-Because you have won, hands down.” I blushed slightly at his comment but shook it off quickly as I looked away.

“Thank you.” I mumbled. My gaze landed on Carly who was giving me a smug smile to which I rolled my eyes at.

“That house of Wax is pretty cool.” Wade changed the subject. This caught Bo’s attention.

“You went inside?”

“Yeah, it was unlocked.”

“I did try to tell them they shouldn’t, but they both happen to be very stubborn.” I didn’t dare step foot into the House of Wax. Knowing myself I would probably end up ruining the art in there, and I would never forgive myself if I destroyed someone’s art that they, more than likely, spent hours trying to create. I did manage to get quick look inside when Carly and Wade entered, and it truly was amazing.

“Everything seems to be unlocked ‘round here, don’t it? Thank you for having respect.” I was rewarded with another one of his smiles that really did compliment his face, although he did use quite an odd choice of words as it made him seem all the creepier.

I shared a look between the other two, who were also very creeped out.

“I did get a look inside though, when they opened the door that is, and the wax sculptures are amazing.” I complimented. I was a bit bummed out that I couldn’t see the artwork up close to see their full detail, but my conscious got to the best of me and now I was glad that I didn’t go in.

“Yeah, people used to come and see it from miles away. Trudy was the main artist.” I could imagine the amount of people that I wanted to see it, but for some reason there wasn’t any.

“What about Vincent?” Carly questioned. “I saw his name on a lot of the work.”

“One of Trudy’s boys.”

“That family must be very talented. Are any of them still around? I would love to meet them, and maybe they could help me out with some of my own art.” I commented.

“Oh- no. It’s a horrible story. Trudy’s husband, Doctor Sinclair, he was a doctor. He got his licence revoked for doing surgery’s on the side, you know, stuff that most doctors wouldn’t do. So, he moved him and Trudy out here to Ambrose, made a fresh start in medical practise and Trudy found her calm with the whole wax sculpture thing.” Bo explained as we walked past the House of Wax. “It was her dream to do something incredible here. Then she had a couple of kids-”

“What’s so horrible about that?”

“Trudy got a cyst in her brain, she just started rottin’ away.” My eyes widened as Bo continued the story. It was really starting to take a dark turn. “Couldn’t work no more, she went crazy, and it got so bad, that Doctor Sinclair had to strap her up to the bed. The whole town could hear her screaming from the house. And Doctor Sinclair was so depressed that he couldn’t save her he-” Bo creates a gun with his fingers and pretends to shoot himself in the head. “Blew his head right off.”

“That’s horrible.” I mumbled.

By now we were approaching the last house on the road, meaning this was where Bo was staying. The sky was getting darker and darker by the minute, making the situation all the more terrifying.

“Hey, uh, why don’t you three hop in, and I’ll go get that fanbelt for ya’” Bo opened the door to his car and gestured for us to hop in.

“No, we actually have some friends picking us up where the roads washed out.” Carly interrupted.

“I’ll give ya’ a lift there. It’s the least I could do then for making ya’ll wait.” Carly and I both turned to Wade who was nodding his head.

“Could I use the toilet?” I asked Bo as Carly hopped into the car.

“Yeah, of course. You said you need to use the can too, didn’t ya?” Bo faced Wade. He then proceeded to ask Carly the same question before he led us into his house.

The house was nothing less than what I expected, not that I expected much. To no surprise, it was quite messy, but I couldn’t hold that against Bo, as he most likely wasn’t expecting guests.

“So, where ya’ headed too anyway?”

“Uh, where just headed to a football game.” Wade answered.

“Bathrooms just down the hall. Let me get out of this jacket and tie, and I’ll get the fanbelt. I have another bathroom upstairs for ya’ to use.” I followed Bo up the stairs as Wade walked down the hall. I began feeling nervous as now I was left alone. “You interested in football?” Bo cocked his head to the side as he looked at me. I found myself staring a little longer than I should have, which Bo took notice of too, as his lips twitched up into a sly smirk.

“No, not really. Just here for Carly.” Bo nodded his head along with what I was saying before he popped another question, a very unexpected question.

“I take it ya’ single than?”

“What makes you think that?” I stammered.

“Well, considering those two are tied to the hip, that would most likely mean that if ya’ were seeing someone, then they’d be 'ere too.” Bo explained as he shrugged off his jacket. “And if it were me, I wouldn’t let ya’ out of my sight. Especially in a town I’ve never been in.” Bo opened a door that revealed to be the second bathroom he owned. I walked in and closed the door and instantly let out a breath I didn’t realise I was holding.

This man was making me feel all kinds of things, and I wasn’t sure if this was a good thing or a bad thing.

I did my business and exited the bathroom to see Bo waiting outside, this time he was dressed in casual clothing, and no longer rocked a suit and tie. I had to admit that this man could certainly pull off both looks.

“Did you need help getting anything? I don’t mind helping.” I offered.

“That would be nice, thank you.” I followed behind Bo, who led us into the garage that was covered in tools and what I could only assume was car parts.

“Is it always this quiet in town?” I watched as Bo gathered some things and placed them in crate he had. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do, so I waited where he had placed down the crate.

“Depends on the day, I guess. Sometimes it can be noisy, believe or not, and some days it’s dead silent. Today just so happens to be one of those days.” Bo mumbled.

All of a sudden the lights were cut off and everything went pitch black. I immediately put my arms out to reach for something to grab a hold of. “Bo?” I held my hand out in the direction of where Bo was last stood. “Bo? Where are you?” I felt his hand come in contact with my own.

“I’m right here, sweets.” I was thankful the lights were off so Bo couldn’t see the blush spread out across my burning face. “I don’t know what happened.” The sound of metal hitting the ground echoed throughout the garage, and then I heard the sound of the horn from outside.

“They must be waiting for us.” I muttered to no one in particular. The lights then turned on and I found myself extremely close to Bo as his chest was almost plastered to my back. “Sorry about that. That was childish.” I apologised I pulled myself away from Bo.

“Nothing to be sorry for. Ya’ get a little scared of the dark, nothing to be ashamed of.” Bo picked up the crate of tools. “I’m going to take this stuff out to the truck. Would you mind finding the wrench for me? It should be in one of the drawers over there.” Bo nodded his head in the direction of where the cupboard filled with drawers were before he exited the garage.

Everything felt scarier now that I was alone and everything around me was silent. I could hear my own breathing with how silent it was, and I hated it.

I searched through the different drawers before I found the wrench that I was looking for.

I began hearing shouting from outside and I quickly made my way outside, only to find the truck driving away and Bo standing outside, the tools scattered across the ground. “Bo, what happened?” I slowly approached Bo who was seething with anger, that was until he turned around to me. His face relaxed as he locked eyes with my own.

“Your little friends just decided to drive off with my truck. I guess they forgot that there was a third one with them.” My mood dulled at his words. How could they just leave me like that? “Hey, don’t let them get ya’ down. You don’t need 'em. Especially after the way they’ve acted today.” That didn’t change the fact that someone that I considered to be my best friend, had just left me behind to run off with her boyfriend, did I ever really mean anything to her. “Listen, I have another truck at the station, if ya’ like, we could walk down tomorrow morning and I could drive ya’ where you need to go.”

“That’d be great. Thanks.” Bo walked back inside, forgetting about the tools that were lying all around.

“You can sleep on the couch for tonight. I’ll get ya’ some blankets to keep ya’ warm. Did ya’ want something to eat?” Bo yelled out as he walked up the stairs.

“I’m good.” I called back. I sat down on the couch and stared off into nothing, this day was going horrible. I sighed as I placed my head into my hands and tiredly rubbed my eyes.

“Hey, ya’ know. I’d love to see ya’ some more. I wasn’t lying when I said ya’ were pretty. Definitely caught my eye.” Bo placed down the blankets on the end of the couch as he sat down beside me.

I found myself blushing for what felt like the millionth time today. “Really? I’d like to see you more too.” I whispered, looking everywhere but the man beside me.

Bo placed his finger on my chin and guided me to look in his direction. “Look at me when ya’ speak. I want to see ya’.”

Before I knew it, we had spent what felt like hours talking on that couch before I eventually got tired and fell asleep, and that was definitely the only good part about my day, getting to talk to Bo.

#bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #sinclair brothers #vincent sinclair #lester sinclair #house of wax #house of wax x reader #slashers #slashers x reader

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lottiebagleywritesobx · 3 years ago

Text

Tequila confessions

JJ lets out a sigh at the sight of his best friend. He'd been late to the kegger and more than ready to relax and have fun with his friends, he knew almost immediately that his plans were going to be very different.

"JAIII," She's slurring as she shouts, stumbling a little over nothing as she approaches him.

"Hey sunshine," He coos lightly, tucking her into his side as he points Kie a sharp glare.

She holds her hands up in surrender "That girl is crazy," Kie defends, causing the girl to let out a gasp, turning to fight back but seemingly forgetting she was mad in the first place when she actually sees Kie, instead moving to go and hug her friend, she's kept in place though by JJ's arm around her shoulder.

"Seriously Kie, I asked you to keep an eye out for her for like a couple hours cause I had work," JJ complains, it was no secret amongst the pogues that she couldn't hold her drinks, she could casually drink on the boat all day but the minute she was in a party setting she would wind up pissed.

"It's not my fault girls from school wanted to do tequila shots and-"

"Shit! You know she voms on tequila," JJ grumbles

"No, we don't all know every little thing about her," Kie defends, JJ rolls his eyes, glancing to see if she had realised what Kiara meant, she seemed to be entertaining herself by playing with the ends of his fingers that hang around her shoulder. "C'mon, I'll get you a beer," Kie offers.

JJ sighs, he does want to drink with his friends, smoke a bit too. It had been a long day and he needed to relax. He knows though that if his best friend has done tequila shots she'll be feeling ill within minutes and he wants to be able to look after her properly.

"I should probably skip, get this one home," He admits, squeezing the girl in his arms a little, seemingly drawing her attention back to him.

"I'm not going home," She argues, still slurring

"Sunshine, you gotta. You'll be feeling poorly soon and-"

He cuts himself off when she makes a dash for it. Leaving his tight grip and sprinting across the beach to John B who reaches out immediately to steady her and stop her from falling.

"Fuck it. Where's the beer Kie?" JJ decides.

He settles at the campfire, drinking slowly so as to stay sober and look after her when she inevitably needs him. A group of touron girls are talking to him, pawing for attention and he's half listening, his eyes are zoned in on her though.

He watched as she danced with Sarah.

He watched as she played beer pong with some kook boys, not sure if he was mad because she was already drunk enough or because they all kept trying to touch her. He figured it's probably the latter.

He watched as she splashed Pope in the shallow water.

Unable to help himself, a large grin spreads across his face as he watches her approach him. She's reaching out and making grabby hands at him, confidently shoving her way through the girls surrounding him to sit next to him. She doesn't need to worry about it, he's always dropped everything to be with her.

She sits silently, head cocked to the side, eyeing JJ with great concentration despite her glassy eyes. He takes the moment to look at her, glowing in the light from the fire and biting her bottom lip slightly, she always does when she's focused.

"Your face is stupid but I like it. I like your stupid...it's so...I like it. Can I touch it?"

"Course you can sunshine," He's grinning widely and can practically feel himself melting when her hand reaches out, stroking his cheek gently.

"JJ can I tell you something?" She's trying to whisper but her voice is no where near quiet, hand still cupping his face.

"You can tell me anything," He reassures, hand going to her knee to rub comforting circles on the skin

"I feel icky,"

"You wanna leave?" He asks, his voice soft

"I wanna be with you,"

"Well obviously I'm leaving with you, christ sunshine, wasn't just gonna let you wander off home all alone,"

"But you just got here and then I'll ruin your night-" He can tell she's about to ramble so he decides to cut it off quickly

"I'd rather be with you anyway. Alright?" He speaks so softly that if anyone who knew him and hadn't seen him around her before were to see they'd struggle to believe it was him at all.

JJ prides himself on how attentive he is to her needs. No matter the situation he knows what she wants.

Tonight is no different, she's leaning over the toilet of the chateau, JJ is standing behind her rubbing her back comfortingly as he holds her hair back.

She pulls away from the toilet, her face a little sweaty and immediately JJ is passing her a glass of water. She pats the floor next to her and JJ immediately sits. "I wanna give you something," She sighs, her head falling to JJ's shoulder as she hiccups a little

"What is it?" He asks, hand once again finding it's home on her knee, his thumb rubbing gently

"My heart. I wanna give you my heart. How do I do it?" She springs up off his shoulder again, looking at him intensely

"Might take a surgery, we'll leave that one for tomorrow yeah?" He questions gently. He knows he can't let himself, even for a second, think she means what's she's saying. She's intoxicated and she's a sappy drunk and he can't set himself up for that kind of heart break.

"Tomorrow though?"

"Yeah sunshine," He nods.

"You're my best friend JJ, but don't tell Kie," She whispers, although it's still not quiet

"You're mine. But don't tell John B," He hums in response, watching her with a wide smile as she grins, rocking back and forth a little.

"I really love you," She admits, her eyes almost look scared

"I really love you too,"

"No like I really love you. Like I wanna have your babies and be with you all the time kinda love you,"

"You are drunk. You don't know what you're saying," He's more telling himself than her.

"NO!" She shouts, gasping dramatically as though she's offended. "I'm not drunk. If I was drunk could I do this?"

He sits silently for a few seconds, watching as she seems to glare at him instensly.

"What is it you are doing sunshine?" He questions

"I-I'm sending you my love. Did you not get it?" She almost looks like she's about to cry and JJ acts quickly, pulling her into a tight hug. "Can we sleep now blondie?"

"Of course sunshine," He agrees immediately. He lifts her from the floor with ease, placing her onto the bed in the room that might as well belong to him. He makes her down another water, helping her out of her jean shorts and crop top and helping her into one of his tshirts. Passing her a cotton pad with her makeup remover on.

She snuggles into the mattress pulling the duvet up to just under her eyes as she watches JJ get ready for bed. He turns around to face her "Thought you were taking your makeup off sweetheart?"

"No. I want cuddles,"

"You can have cuddles after you take your make up off," he instructs, she sighs dramatically but rubs at her face with the cotton pad.

He climbs into bed next to her, opening his arms and immediately she snuggles into them, tucking her head under his chin and wrapping her arms around him, he holds her close, rubbing her back gently.

"I really am in love with you JJ,"

"Tell me again after you've slept and I'll be yours. Okay sunshine?"

"Okay," She agrees, smiling when she feels him press a kiss to the top of her head "You'll say it back though, right?" She questions, her voice slowly becoming more drowsy

"I promise,"

JJ wakes up to see her still in his arms. She's awake though, staring at him from his chest.

"Are you watching me sleep like a creeper?"

"Are you gonna say it?" She enquires immediately, he doesn't like the way his heart swells, maybe she meant it? maybe it wasn't just her drunk ramblings?

"You need to learn how to hack a drink," He scolds lightly

"Not that JJ,"

"I'm in love with you," He speaks quietly, she jumps immediately, sitting up to straddle him and pulling him up with her.

"I wanna kiss you,"

"Then kiss me," He grins, he doesn't think he's ever been happier.

"I haven't brushed my teeth,"

"I don't care," He laughs a little and she giggles

"I do. C'mon," She pulls him from the bed to follow her.

They brush their teeth, JJ's arms wrapped around her waist as they do so and the second both their toothbrushes are back in the little holder his lips are on hers.

He kisses gently, like he's been waiting for this his whole life and he wants to savour every last second. She figures that maybe he has been.

"JJ, did I mention having your kids last night?" She whispers, foreheads pressed together.

"Yeah. You are never living it down sunshine," He's beaming as she giggles, leaning up to press her lips back to his.

#jj maybank #jj #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x y/n #obx fic #obx #jj maybank fic

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navalcriminalimagines · 3 years ago

Text

Lost self confidence

Anon: Can I request a lil one-shot where y/n has been on the team for a while and she put on some weight/starts feeling insecure about it and Gibbs helps her feel better? :> If not it's okay (Preferably a lot of fluff, angst & smut up to you)

Anon: Can I ask for a plus sized reader and gibbs please? I never see them :( Maybe someone says something about her weight when theyre working a case or something and he does the gibbs-legendary-elevator-conversation??? OuO

I thought those two requests work well together. Enjoy, lovely anons! ❤️

Warnings: punch, mention of blood, hurtful comments about weight

Tags: @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @madamsnape921 @specialagentastra

~~~~~

Your body changed. A lot. More than you like to admit.

You have been avoiding mirrors for a while now, but as you stand in front of it right now, only dressed in underwear, you have to face it. Your body changed and you don’t like it. Actually, you hate it.

As you look at your stomach that used to be flat, your hips that are larger, the celulitis… you can’t help but to think it’s no wonder you’re alone. Who could you attract, looking like this? Not many people and definitely not the man you wish you had. He has probably noticed how your body is different. Maybe before, you stood a chance with the man but not anymore. It’s a lost cause.

You put some clothes on and left for work.

You and your team are working on a tricky case, you are not impatient to get into the office today. But as always, you put on your best smile and pretend that everything is okay. Even though it’s most definitely not.

You skipped breakfast this morning - on purpose - but when you sit at your desk, you can see a brown bag sitting there. You look inside; donuts. Not just regular donuts, but your two favorites.

“Gibbs’s treat.” Tony lets you know.

“What’s the occasion?” you casually answer, putting the bag aside. It’s definitely a bad idea to eat them.

“No occasion. You’re just his favorite,”

You can’t help but smile at this. Not that it’s true, but it feels nice anyway. Before, you would have been happy about your boss’s attention, but not today. “Aren’t you going to eat them?”

“I’m not hungry. Do you want them?”

Tony grabs the bag before you know it. At least, you won’t have to throw them away.

You put yourself into work quickly after. You need to take your mind off your insecurities and how bad you feel about yourself. Tony tries to make casual conversation, just being his old self but as you barely answer, he realizes that something’s wrong with you. He just doesn’t know what.

“You’re staring.” You say to him, without looking up from your computer screen.

“You’re in a bad mood.” He states.

“Am not.”

“Y/N, please.” He stands up from his desk and walks up to yours. “I’m a trained investigator. Talk to me.”

“Not a chance.” You keep working, avoiding eye contact. You’re scared that he may read into you, or worse; that you may cry if he starts to ask too many questions.

“Did Gibbs get the order wrong?” He jokes. He doesn’t mean wrong at all, but it sets you off.

“Just-- leave me alone, DiNozzo.”

You practically jump for your chair, grab your laptop and walk away from the bullpen, leaving your coworker in awe. He’s not sure what just happened, but he’s more convinced that something’s really not okay with you.

You spend the next two hours hiding in the conference room. You didn’t work much, you mostly cried and felt sorry for yourself. You really hate yourself and your body right now. It’s not about gaining some weight, it’s also about how lonely you feel. You love your team more than anything, they really are like your family but when you get home at night, it’s just you. You and your thoughts. You and your loneliness.

You just want someone to get home to. Someone to cuddle, someone to love and who loves you back, someone to fall asleep with. Just someone.

You had your face buried in your arms when you heard the door opening. You look up, ashamed. Gibbs is standing here.

He closes the door behind him and walks to you. “You okay, Y/N?” he softly asks.

“Y-yeah. Just a bit tired.”

“You know, if DiNozzo pissed you off, you can tell me.”

You chuckle. “Nah, it’s nothing he did. I guess I got up on the wrong foot this morning, that’s it.”

Gibbs did let it go - for now - but you knew he didn’t buy any of it.

That is later's concern though, there is some news on the case and you need to get going. The afternoon went better; your mind was focused on the case, you didn’t have time to think of the rest. It’s only when you get back home that it hits again. Before taking a shower, you put a sheet on the big mirror in your bedroom. You don’t want to face your reflection for now.

*****

The next morning, you are in a better mood. Not entirely, you still skipped breakfast and avoided all the mirrors but you made a decision: you won’t let the team know. You won’t let them see you’re going through a tough time. It would only make things worse.

Everything’s going okay until that stupid lawyer shows up. You never wanted to see him again after hooking up with him over a year ago. He seemed nice and good looking, he flirted with you the whole time he was in the office, so when he invited you for a drink, you said yes.

Your agreement had something to do with Gibbs’s flirting with that shrink but to this day, you keep telling yourself that it hadn’t.

After a few drinks, you let the lawyer kiss you and before you knew it, you took him home and you had a one night stand.

The sex wasn’t the problem, you actually had a lot of fun. The problem was the next day.

He was gone before you woke up - still not a problem. But when Gibbs yelled at you for giving him some private information, you understood your mistake. The man had used you. While you were sleeping, he looked into your files and found the information he needed to save his client’s butt.

After that, Gibbs gave you the silent treatment for weeks. And he stopped being mad at you after you came to see him in his basement and did your mea culpa. No one ever talked about it since.

But now, the same man is standing in the middle of the bullpen. You growled to yourself before going in.

You don’t greet him at all, just sit at your desk. “Y/N? That’s you?” he says, apparently shocked.

You look at him briefly and don’t answer.

“My god, what happened to you?” he adds.

“Excuse you?” you snap.

“God, if you had been looking like this last year, I wouldn’t have been able to use you.”

His sentence feels like a punch in your stomach, it hurts. But it shouldn’t and you know it. But it still does. You stay there a moment, not knowing if you want to cry and beat the crap out of him. Probably both at the same, but you don’t move or don’t say a thing, you’re like frozen. You barely don’t notice when Gibbs pushes the man towards the elevator.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Ziva asks.

In the elevator

“Overprotective much, Gibbs?” the lawyer tries to appear confident and unafraid. He has his back against the wall, and in a second, he can hear Gibbs’s fist hitting a few inches away from his head. If the fist had touched his nose, he probably would have needed plastic surgery.

“Ever in your life, you disrespect a woman like that again, and especially--especially not Y/N.”

The lawyer made many people angry over the years, but never had he seen a man as angry as Gibbs looks right now.

“The only reason my hand is in this wall and not your face right now, is because she wouldn’t want me to get in trouble, but trust me when I say that all I want to do right now is to shoot you right in your precious parts.”

Gibbs is panting from anger. He can’t remember the last time he said that many words at once. But there’s no way that he or anyone else can disrespect you like this. Never, under his watch.

“So I’m gonna be very clear, you give that case to someone else. I don’t give a shit who, you just do it. And I don’t ever want to see your face again. Cause if I do, you’ll be so disfigured, you won’t be able to get another woman. Ever.”

“I could sue you for those threats, Special Agent Gibbs.”

“Are you planning to?”

“Maybe I am.”

“Well, in that case--”

This time, Gibbs’s fist hit the nose.

Meanwhile, in the bullpen

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Ziva asks.

“Yeah-yeah,” you clearly lie as your eyes are watering.

Your coworker isn’t buying it. She takes a step forward and hugs you softly. “Please, don’t let him get to you.” she whispers in your ear. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

Those words make you cry. You are not really buying them, but it does something to hear them. And you know deep inside that Ziva wouldn’t say something she doesn’t think.

As she keeps hugging, you can feel someone else’s arms wrapping around both of you. It’s Tony and shortly after, Tim is joining. “I think we should call Ducky. We’re going to have a crime scene.” Tony jokes to light the mood.

“I don’t want Gibbs to put himself in trouble for me.” you sadly say.

“Y/N, if Gibbs hadn’t taken him in the elevator, we would all have jumped on him.” Tim tells you. Which surprises you because Tim is the one to avoid a fight as much as he can.

“Also, the only reason I’m not asking you out is because of Rule 12.”

You are about to answer to Tony when you can hear the elevator’s doors opening. You let go of one another and watch Gibbs as he comes back to you and takes you by the hand. “Someone may have to call 911.” he tells the rest of the team.

Gibbs takes you to the other elevator, the one that leads to the lower floors, where Abby’s lab and Autopsy are. But of course, he switches the button as soon as the doors close. He doesn’t say a thing, he just hugs you tight. “Your hand is blue, Gibbs.” you cry in his neck.

“Yeah and his nose is red, who cares.” he kisses your hair. “I don’t want you to cry because of him, Y/N. And especially not because of what he said.”

“But Gibbs--”

“Not ‘but’, Y/N. Look at me.” he softly grabs your chin with his non-injured hand and forces you to look into his eyes. “You may not believe me right now, but you’re beautiful, Y/N. Sexy. Hot.” you uncontrollably shake your head, not buying a word he says. “I know I’m not the best with words, so I’ll let my actions speak.”

Gibbs ducks his head just a bit and closes the gap between his lips and yours. He softly kisses. You probably have never been kissed this softly before. Gibbs is so gentle and tender, his lips move slowly but expertedly. You’re literally melting under him.

The kiss may have lasted for minutes, hours, you don’t really know. You lost track of time, as if the world had stopped spinning.

“I’m sorry I waited for something like this to happen to do it. I’ve wanted this for a very long time, Y/N.”

“Me, too, Gibbs. But I’m not sure that’s the best time. I’ve lost all self confidence and--”

He kisses you again, undoubtedly to make you shut up. “I’ll help you find it again. I wish you could see yourself through my eyes.”

You rest your forehead against his, some tears are still rolling down your cheeks. “You’re not bad with words.”

“I’m still better with touch.”

#jethro gibbs imagine #leroy jethro gibbs x reader #gibbs x reader #jethro gibbs x reader #jethro gibbs #gibbs #leroy jethro gibbs #agent gibbs #ncis #ncis imagines #ncis fiction #ncis fanfic #tony dinozzo #ziva david #Tim McGee

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bonky-n-steeb · 3 years ago

Text

𝐵𝑅𝐸𝐴𝑇𝐻𝐸

𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃 𝚃𝚆𝙾

𝘿𝘼𝙍𝙆!𝘽𝙐𝘾𝙆𝙔 𝘽𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙀𝙎 𝙭 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍 | 𝙈𝙊𝘽!𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙑𝙀 𝙍𝙊𝙂𝙀𝙍𝙎 𝙓 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍

𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗬: Your life is as good as it gets. The perfect husband, the perfect daughter, the perfect job. But what you are unaware is that your husband is a deadly assassin and your long-lost friend, now a fearsome mob boss is hell bent on getting you back. But what you don’t know can't hurt you, right?

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦: psychological disorder, PTSD, domestic abuse, yandere, obsession, violence, cursing. If you find any of this triggering please DNI. Also inform me if I left something out.

ᴛʜɪs ɪs ɴᴏᴛ ʙᴇᴛᴀ ʀᴇᴀᴅ, sᴏ ᴀʟʟ ᴍɪsᴛᴀᴋᴇs ᴀʀᴇ ᴍʏ ᴏᴡɴ

My previous account was deleted so I’ll be posting the stories again. I’ll be changing this one, so yeah.

Inform me if y’all wanna be tagged!

You stared at the ticking clock, counting the seconds for his return, while Iris played with her stuffed tiger that her dada had bought for her. Her father was finally coming home after serving for a really long time in the military. Bucky was everything you had wanted and more.

Though you both had a small and cute wedding when you were way too young, it still was one of the best days of your life. Since the day you had met him, he had been hell bent on joining the army as he somehow felt the need to protect people after what had happened to his father. So, after serving his first term, while you were still a second-year graduate student, he had proposed and you had accepted without wasting a second.

Soon you had found yourself pregnant, during your pregnancy, he had been there for your every beck and call. You still remembered his face when Iris was born; it was filled with such adoration and love, you knew you wouldn’t have to worry about anything. Iris was literally the female version of her dad, her cute nose, her lips and most importantly her blue eyes; her eyes had played a small role in naming her.

Having a kid and completing your medical residency had been tough, but whenever Bucky was home, he took care of all the housework and kept Iris busy for as long as possible. Just one thing which you didn’t like was all this time he spent away from home and the immense risk that came along with being on active duty. But he wasn’t just your Bucky, was he, he was Sgt. Barnes, too.

But now as you sat staring at the clock, you feared that when he returned, Bucky wouldn't be the same man he was. While on duty, there had been an explosion and he had lost his arm. Hearing his voice on the phone was enough to tell you that he was broken. You were waiting to take him in your arms and tell him that it would be fine.

Just then the bell rang and you quickly got up and unlocked the door. And there he was, his eyes without their usual luster, filled with unshed tears. As Iris ran towards him, he quickly scooped her up in his right arm. “dada! I missed you s’much” she said kissing his face. You wondered whether she didn’t notice or was simply ignoring his missing arm after you gave her a little ‘talk’ about it. “I missed you too Rissie! I love you my little princess!” he said smothering her with kisses. “I'm a Queen!” she exclaimed. “Alright your majesty. Now may I enter your palace and meet my wife?” Iris pretended to think and then exclaimed a yes.

“Hey, don’t cry” he said as he dropped Iris down. You hadn't even noticed that you were crying. You quickly wrapped him in your arms and he held you tight, fearing that you might slip away. You both didn’t speak for a long time, you were too busy being buried in each other's neck, but then you felt the moisture collect on your shoulder. As you let go, you realized his dam had broken and he was crying too.

“I love you Bucky bunny” you said playfully. Somehow long back, you had come up with this nickname while watching Looney Tunes; your magnificent brain had somehow morphed Bugs Bunny into Bucky bunny. He pretended to hate it saying it sounded like some porn stars name, and therefore you teased him even more. “I love you too.” he replied staring deep into your soul.

☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎

As you both retired to your bedroom after ensuring Iris was fast asleep, you simply laid in bed without talking. Your hands were quietly exploring the same planes of his body you had travelled a million times over. You hesitated to touch his arm at first, fearing whether he was comfortable with it or not. But as you slowly began to trace the scars, he let out a long breath.

You wished he didn’t have to suffer this; you wished all went to the way it was previously; you wished that his eyes shone just as brightly as they did before. But that didn’t mean you loved him any less now. Though throughout the day he pretended to be just fine, you knew he wasn’t even close to being fine.

“Are you going to leave me?” he finally broke the silence. You couldn’t help but give him a confused expression, why would he ask that? “You don’t have to pretend. Not with me. Just say and I'll go. I don’t want to be a burden to you... ” you shut him up by kissing him. “I am not leaving you Buck. I’m gonna stick with you like an octopus.” you said chuckling. “Buck, we’ll go through everything and anything if we are together. I just want you to be happy. We'll make it work; we will find a way. And trust me when I say I love you more than anything.”

You spent the entire night, tangled in each other, telling him how much you loved and cherished him.

☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎

You were tired and your back was aching after performing a long surgery. As you opened the door, you were greeted with the smell if your favorite dish being cooked in the house. As you walked straight to the kitchen you were stunned to see Bucky somehow managing to cook with Iris sitting on the kitchen counter. Though the kitchen was a mess, you weren't going to complaint, all you could see was the blinding happiness on his face.

“Look who is back! Guess what mama bear?” Bucky said joyously. You wondered what was the reason behind his joy. “Daddy is gonna get his arm back!” Rissie exclaimed happily. This wasn’t news to you though. You had talked to Bucky about getting a prosthetic arm and he hadn't been half this excited. Seeing your confusion Bucky responded “Well, I got a call this morning. They are not only giving me my job back but giving me a cool new arm. I'll be on duty again!”

You weren't sure whether to be happy or sad. You were euphoric about Bucky’s job and arm but at the same time you were worried for his life. “That’s amazing Buck!” you hugged him tightly as Iris slipped between you two. Your eyes were filled with happy tears. He was happy and that’s all that mattered right now.

☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎

FOUR YEARS LATER

You finally had a holiday from your hectic schedule as a surgeon. Iris was off to school and after some pushing you had persuaded Bucky to go get groceries. You wondered what had happened to Bucky. Something had changed after he got that arm, rather everything had changed. He wasn’t lively anymore, he got irritated at small things, stared off absently into space not responding to anything, he constantly looked behind his back, nor did he laugh at any of your jokes, you missed his laughter and that's what hurt you the most.

Not to mention the horrid dead blank stare he gave you some days, intently looking at your every move like a predator, that thing scared the shit out of you. In the past two years not once you and Bucky had accepted Thor’s dinner invitations. You didn’t have many friends, you just had one, Thor. He was with you since your residency and you both worked together as trauma surgeons. Bucky and Thor had become quick friends too and the three of you went on many double dates. But that was a thing of the past. Now, whenever Thor invited you, Bucky simply came up with a stupid reason to not go. Bucky had become so closed off; he wasn’t the thoughtful and jolly Bucky you fell in love with.

Now that you finally had the house to yourself, you had decided to go on a cleaning spree. Currently you were in your bathroom; busy cleaning with your mop, when you accidentally slipped on some spilt soap water and ended up falling right beside the bathtub, your mop flew up and hit the ceiling tiles, thus displacing them. Suddenly a small diary fell right on your head. Placing your right hand on the ledge of the bath tub, you waited for everything to settle down and cursed loudly. “Fuck you, you goddamning son of a bitch! Everything had to fall on my head! Pathetic!”.

You saw that you mop as now dangling on the bath tub and that stupid diary which had apparently fallen from heaven knows where was laying right beside you. As you looked up, you noticed the displaced tiles and realized that’s where this must have fallen from. As you picked up the diary you noticed there wasn't any dust on it, so there wasn't a chance that the previous owners might have left something in the false ceiling above. And it definitely wasn’t you, Iris was too small to keep something there; that only left Bucky. But why did he never mention this diary before. What exactly was he hiding?

As you opened the diary, you realized that you couldn’t understand a single word written. It felt as it was written in some highly complex code language. You were sure it wasn’t any language spoken everyday by sane humans. As you flipped through the pages you realized that every page was written in the same format. At the top was presumably some names written in the code and the rest was probably the information of that person.

You wondered how did Bucky know this language? And why didn’t he ever tell you about anything, heck, he didn’t even mention it. And whose names had he written like it was the most confidential file? You got up and quickly closed the lid on the toilet and climbed up on it. You stuck your hand inside the hollow ceiling above to check if he was hiding something more.

Your hand caught something and you pulled it out, only to realize it was a laptop. You wondered why he needed a second laptop when he already had one for work purposes in the home office. You took the laptop and the diary and sat down in the bathroom itself, so that if you when you would hear Bucky come you would simply put everything back up in the ceiling. You opened the laptop and saw it was password protected. You decided you would have two tries at unlocking the laptop and if you didn’t crack it, you would simply confront him.

You first tried out typing Iris's name and her date of birth. But it was denied access. You thought for a minute more and entered your own name and your birthdate. And access was granted to you. You didn’t know whether to be happy that he had kept your name as his password or angry that he had been lying to you about whatever this was. As the laptop opened, you saw various files in it. You tapped on one and it seemed to open on a person’s resume. No, it wasn’t a resume, it was that person’s entire life history. It was like those files the assassins carried in movies with all the information about their target. You wondered what Jason Bourne shit this was.

As you read his name and saw the photos attached with it, you felt as if you had seen this person before. As you scrolled further, it finally clicked. A year before this person, who held a high position in the United Nations, was all over the news due to his untimely death caused by a heart attack. You had absolutely no interest in worldly matters, you already had a million problems on your head so you hadn't paid much attention and had not given a flying fuck. But now suddenly sweat was covering your forehead. You were worried sick as to why Bucky had all this information stored in a secret computer.

As you scrolled further, you almost reached the end of the file and that’s when you saw the video. With shaky hands you opened it. It seemed to be the security footage of that man’s bedroom and its resolution was pretty shitty. For the first few minutes all you saw was the man sleeping peacefully but as the video continued, you noticed it. The window in his room was slowly lifted as a man entered. He seemed to be dressed in tactical gear, his face was covered by a mask, but he was given away by one tell-tale sign. His arm. The metal arm with a red star on it glinted in the moonlight and you knew it was Bucky.

You watched as Bucky quietly walked towards the sleeping man. As he stood near the bed, he produced something from his pocket and bent down. As you strained your eyes, you saw that it was an injection. Your eyes widened as you clapped your hand around your mouth. That man hadn't died due to a heart attack, at least not natural. He was murdered by Bucky!

You opened another file, then another, they all were the same. In the beginning it was the information about the person, then a report as to how they died and then a video. All of them were well known figures; and all of them had been assassinated by Bucky. In one of the videos, you saw him choking the life out of a man with his metal arm and your mind wandered to the many times you would playfully tell him to choke you with the metal arm while fucking you; your hand unconsciously went to your throat at the thought.

Then you opened a file titled: The Winter Soldier. That was weird you thought, the other files were given numbers but not names. As you opened the file, you realized it was Bucky’s own. Apparently, his codename was The Winter Soldier. Everything about him was stated in that file systematically. His background, his education, his military career and the worst of all, there were your and Iris’s photos too. As you continued to read, you realized he wasn’t working in the military anymore. Four years before, the people who had called him were from an organization named Hydra. The name and symbol itself sent chills down your spine. God, was Bucky so stupid, the octopus symbol itself screamed that Hydra was up to no good.

In the beginning, you couldn’t believe Bucky had gotten such a fancy and technological advanced arm. Looking at it you wondered how much it cost, the material and the functions would make it no less than a few million dollars. Now why would the government spend so much money on a sergeant, not that Bucky didn’t deserve it but you were curious.

It felt as if he was hiding something from you. But you didn’t as ask as you knew he’d come around and tell you soon anyway. He needed time and you had plenty to give. But he never did. You had asked so many times whether the star was a tattoo of some sort and he had always deflected your questions. But now after reading this, you knew what all this was for. The arm, the pay raise, the irregular schedule, it was all Hydra. And Bucky was a professional assassin, and that too a deadly one.

Your eyes watered and bile rose to your throat as you saw a list, it was all the people he had killed, and the list was pretty big. You quickly placed the laptop besides you and began to puke your guts out in the toilet. In all the panic you failed to notice that a person was holding back your hair and soothingly rubbing your back.

#chris evans #sebastian stan #mcu #marvel #Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky #mob!steve #dark!bucky x reader #mob!steve x reader #winter soldier #winter soldier x reader

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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years ago

Note

Hi! So I would like to request a Seb x reader one shot if you have the time ☺️ I just got diagnosed with Endometriosis today and am in need of some soft Seb... Could you write smth where Seb finds out that reader is always in pain during sex and never said anything, though he knows she has Endometriosis and usually cares for her during her period... and he then encourages her to get surgery to try and fix it? Only if it's okay though, I know it's very precise, sorry!

A/N; I am so sorry to hear about this hun, i hope there’s something that can be done, no one deserves to go through that kind of pain. I researched endometriosis and it certainly sounds horrible, I’m sending you all my love and support 💙

Endometriosis - Sebastian Stan x reader

Masterlist Link

Summary; based on the request, I changed it a tiny bit so I hope that’s okay, I just feel like if r was in pain seb would notice, I hope you like it hun 🤍

Warnings; endometriosis, smut, oral sex (male and female receiving), 69ing, mentions of sex toys, illness, mention of alcohol, fluff, pain, swearing

divider by @firefly-graphics

It hurt like a bitch, there was no way to put it, or at least it was a simpler revelation of description at the prying of your womb had you near to tears. You laid your head down into the pillow, mushing it into the fabric, as you wanted the pain to dwindle down into nothing, and thus you tried to ignore your own suffering, as you turned over to be on your back, severely wincing by the change in position. A groan came from the other side of the bed, as the man that was laid there began to shuffle, in the midst of waking up.

“Morning.” He spoke with a hoarse voice, the steadiness obliterated by his blatant hangover that was haunting his form. Sebastian rubbed a hand over his eyes as he fully awoke, stretching his back as he reached his arm out, swiftly hooking it around the back of your neck as you allowed yourself to lay on the muscle. “Guess neither of us got laid, did we?” He laughed lightly, shaking his head, as he tipped his chin up, blinking his baby blues up to the ceiling.

“Considering that we’re in the same bed, and that you’re not a stranger to me, I guess not.” You laughed to your close friend, whom was aware of your condition, but not the extent of it. “Looks like you’re going to suffer from no morning sex Stan, I’m sure that sucks for you.”

“Usually it’s someone else doing the sucking.” You smacked his arm at his off handed comment, pulling a smirk out from the man as he turned to face you, pulling you closer by the contact that he had upon you. “I’m guessing your disappointed that you’re not waking up to some muscular, blonde haired and blue eyes patriotic punk.”

“If you’re describing Evans, i swear that I will punch you in the dick, I said he was attractive once.” You put emphasis on the amount of time(s) you had ever mentioned it. A pout quivered his lips, as he shuffled beneath the covers, angling his hips in a more comfortable position so that they weren’t being crunched down on the mattress.

“You can punch my dick, on the agreement that you kiss it better.” Seb allowed a hollow smirk to mull over his handsome features, as you swatted his bicep once more, an unhumored frown conforming its position upon your face.

“I’m not one of your hook ups, I’m not gonna get on my knees for you buddy.” You bantered back, raising a brow at his inquisition. No, you were not a past sexual partner of his; it was a constant of him never having a serious relationship, he opted for flings rather than any long engagements, you suspected that he had feelings for someone else, but you were not sure of whom.

The thought alone of him being endeared with the image of one woman brought a pain to your body, separate from your medical suffering. Though your opinion wasn’t fair, considering that you as well, or had your time of sleeping around before the pain in your inner walls became too much, and that was one of the many things that you had given up, more or less.

To support the montage of your body’s self torture, you had a mixture of hormone and tablets that helped reduce the unexplainable sensation that willed around in your lower half, swarming around like an internal snake bite in your own body.

“69 then?” He joked, but it felt so serious. You knew he wasn’t being truthful, it was the relationship the pair of you had, though his face had moved closer, his breath fanning over your face, making your heart prominently race as you thought about such a scenario. “Having mentioned Evans...” he began to change the conversation, having felt the heat that had radiated from your body.

“Go on.” You pried at him, interested in hearing what his friend had opted to say about the pair of you. It wasn't every day that you heard celebrities gossiping about you.

“He thinks we’ve hooked up.” Sebastian stated, making your neck reel slightly back as you took in the fact, of well, the perceived view point of a world renowned, household name, actor. A part of you was slightly embarrassed, you held your own cheek as the words that Chris had passed on sunk in on you.

“We, no, never. Okay, I’m exaggerating, that would not be so bad, but it would definitely be weird. But like, why does he think that, of all things?” You asked whilst partially laughing. It made you partially aware of yourself, and the prospect of you possibly having made your feelings obvious, but that however hadn’t been the case as Seb scratched over the stubble that he had on his chin, and did that awkward Bucky smile that had became humorous in his new marvel show.

“Of all things; it’s like you’re trying to break my heart babes.” With one diverging look from you, he knew he was done for. It always pained him to keep secrets from you, and this was the one that he had been hiding for so long. “You’re really going to make me say it, aren’t you? Okay, fine. I still can’t believe that you haven’t caught on, after all this time, but this just shows that you haven’t noticed how I try and scare away every guy with my money and power.”

“Yeah, I noticed that.” Lightly you scoffed, having many memories of such a situation. It was a pattern that kept repeating itself, but to you it had just become normal, and to say you were fine with it was not incorrect. It gave you hope that he could reciprocate the emotions that you held towards him, though having a wish like that was altogether hopeless. He was just protective, that was all, he probably saw you like a little sister, or something of the sort, that really put a drab annotation on the prospect of romance.

“Ever wonder why?” Ever, more like all the time, but you allowed him to continue without disruption, by doing so more would be unveiled by that mouth of his, and you were eager to learn more, yet a little hesitant. “It is because I am so tired of being your friend, I love it, don’t get me wrong but...” you were dreading what was to come out of his mouth next, you squeezed your eyes shut, almost as if you were unable to see, the pain would not render upon your specimen. “I love you.”

“You what?!” Eyes snapping open, you were blatantly shocked by his confession. “That can’t be right Seb, you’re you, and I’m me, and-“

“We’re us.” He finished for you. As he noticed you relax from his contingence, which allowed him the time gap to slide closer, his warm and soft hand running up the side of your face as he watched you gasp from the sensation. It was not the first time he had touched your cheek, but it was the first instance in which he done so intimately; you were rather fond of the treatment.

You nuzzled your face into the curve of his hand, your brows lightly directed in a downwards motion as you lulled in his touch, and that was when you realised that he had frozen. “Shit.” You stopped him from moving away, pausing the sadness in his eyes for the current second. “I should have responded, that was my bad. I love you too, I’m not just saying that, so you know.”

“That’s a relief.” Sebastian sighed, falling back onto the mattress, bringing his face accidentally closer to your own. The tips of your noses were touching as your eyes ogled deep within the pools of one another’s, it was impossible not to seek a closer vicinity, and thus, you slunk closer, bracing the tips of your nails against his scruff, as your lips worked their way onto his.

“How would you like another kind of relief?” You pulled away, stroking down the smooth course of his shirt covered chest, prompting a suggestive dialogue in your tone. His brow raised as he thought about it for a moment, but then he remembered a rather distinctive matter he didn’t want to cause any obstruction to.

“What about your, you know?” He was referring to your endometriosis, having the knowledge about the unfortunate illness that interfered with your life. Through it all, the doctors appointments, the encouraging you to take your medication on days that you weren’t feeling particularly well, he was there. Now it made sense why.

To reply, you softly shook your head, combing your hands over his shoulders, as you answered him. “If it gets too much, I’ll give you the signal.” You spoke, leaning down to peck his lips, though you still saw the reluctance that was embedded on his forehead in the form of strict lines. “I promise.” You persuaded him, meaning the sentiment, as his eyes trailed down, his hand scourging a fierce, passionate grip upon your hipbone as his tongue weaved its way back into your mouth.

You moaned into the atmosphere of his mouth, grabbing onto his cheeks as you heaved breaths into the internal beyond of this man, rolling on top of him, as you swept your crotch down against his own, extracting a sinister sound out of his guttural throat. It was only turning you on more, and you knew that if you didn’t do something, even despite the recommendations of your doctor, you would be sufficed with a lack of pleasure, and that was all you currently craved.

It wasn’t fair how you had been dubbed with the condition. So many people in the world could have sex whenever they pleased, yet you were forced to commend under the sentence of experiencing a discomfort when all you wanted was the comfort of being intwined with another human being. That connection, it felt mandatory, however you were denied it, for every time that you proceeded to bed a stranger, or a partner of any sorts, the stretch of anything in your walls pursued you with a fracture of pain.

You’d even had to throw out your vibrator, whilst it felt good on the outside, the clenching of your empty walls sparked physical and mental hurt, and reminded you of the fact that whenever you were filled by any length, your body could not function to emit pleasure, instead it was the opposite that you were tasked with contracting. The thought and reminder often spewed tears in your eyes, but you held them back as you got lost in Sebastian.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He admitted sentimentally, and your heart both became full and broken. It was sweet and scorching to the arousal between your legs to know that he was that concerned about your well being; he wasn’t just prioritising getting his dick wet. He resumed pressing succulent kisses on your lips, he lulled in the notion, he too wanted to be close to you, but he wasn’t willing to do inadvertently so to the expense of you being in pain.

That was the opposite of what he wanted, even as your hand wandered down his firm and pheromone driven body, that bucked in your grip, as your hand hooked around his bulge, your thumb stroking over his round sack as he grew beneath the layers of his soft sweats and underwear. “69 then?” You reiterated his earlier words, causing his pupils to blow wide, and his blue irises to darken into the juxtaposition of stormy skies.

“Will that be okay?” You confirmed it was, even if you weren’t completely sure yourself. The angles, the penetration, it was all elements, that combined gave you an equation that you had yet to figure out. The only way to do so was to try it, even if it concluded in an error, and not a sensible answer. To instigate the next step, you roused your sleep shirt from your body, leaving you in nothing more than your causal panties, but Seb didn’t seem to mind.

In fact he rather preferred the normalcy of your actions and undress, it made the strategy of shifting from friends to intimate lovers into one of relaxation, there was no absurdity nor discomfort yet, for either one of you. Your fingers dipped in the sides of your underwear, teasing the band, as you cocked your head towards Seb, licking your lips as you took in the view of him entranced by your being. “Am I going to be the one naked or...”

You were grateful that he took the hint, and stripped himself from both layers that kept his goods confined. He rapidly removed them, leaving his uncut cock open to your gaze; it wasn’t anything massive which was a relief, but it for now, it was to be attained in the confinement of your mouth, rather than the realm of your cunt, so that slight stretch could await. As you thought of that, you reached your hand out, dancing your fingers lightly over his shaft.

Seb emitted a soft huff from his obtainable lips, he dragged you to be laying atop of him, as your thighs surrounded his length on either side, it was warm, and rested perfectly below your where your cunt was hovering. How you wished to just sink down on it and- “Turn around.” For a moment you took time to refrain your memory to perceive what you had said before. And then, whence your words caught up to you, it was simple to do so, especially with the motivation of what was going to happen.

As you spun around, to be facing his lower half and have your own above his mouth, you watched his cock twitch, as it rested heavily upon his abdomen. You could feel your nerves kick in; it was a substantial difference from anything that you had ever done together, from looking at the stars and watching cheesy movies, to sexual actions, it was quite the leap. But a welcome one, you had waited so long to acknowledge your feelings to him, you'd be damned if you were not going to act on them.

A shiver rippled up your spine as he paved a lick through your slit, it made you tense up for a moment, and you try to register any diagnosis of pain, you coiled when he put one of your lips in his mouth. It felt good, which was a relief, and you took that as a sign to reap your front forwards, and focus on his throbbing hardness that was oozing precum against his perfect skin. The drop of essence looked like liquid moonstone, catching the ambience of the snooping sun that eyes through the crescent opening of the closed curtains, creating a luminescent light against the contrast of his skin.

Leaning forwards, as the initial shock of Seb using his tongue on you had settled in, as a faint plea from inside of you derived away in your eternal being, your tongue glided over the patch of fallen precum, your eyes fluttering at the heavenly, yet rare taste, it wasn’t every day that a man’s cum was relatively nice on your buds. Some perceived eating junk food as a lifestyle, caring not for how the receiver of their sperm would taste within the mouth of a giver on the other end. Sebastian hummed against your slick folds, as he danced his hands around your ass, grasping your cheeks firmly.

His fingers swept through the outside of your cunt, fooling around with your labia as his tongue swirled your bud, making your face grimace on the edge of pleasure, as your warm lips wrapped around the head of his cock, whirling your tongue within his slit, as your hand rested around the rest of his length, jerking it in your grasp, as his hips lightly heaved upwards against your face. He teased a finger around your entrance, running the tip along the wet flesh that mimicked your breaths as it clenched prosperously.

“Shit!” Tears webbed in your eyes as he entered the finger, though he considered that a resonating profanity of pleasure. To your dismay, it indeed was not though, the entry of the digit weighed heavy inside you, prying sorely against your walls as your giving to him paused, as you harshly gripped his thigh. “Shit, that hurts Seb. Fuck!” In an instant, he stopped, extracting his finger out from within you, as it caused you further pain, and helped you turn around, and lay languidly upon the bed.

“Oh my god, fuck, I’m so sorry y/n/n.” He panicked, immense guilt wavering his body, as he grasped your face, staring with sorrow into your seasoned expression. “I didn’t mean to- didn’t want to hurt you, shit, I should never have tried to-“ soothing his conflicting emotions, you stroked his shoulders, kissing him to ease his words into silence. He felt guilty, but so did you, you were the one whom had encouraged to pursue the rhythm of your shared sexuality to one another, deducting the poise of your actions with tear beaded eyes.

“It was my fault; I said it would be fine. I should have known it shouldn’t have, I’m sorry.” You reasoned with him, knowing that you had told him that it was to be something that you could manage, but from experience, you should have had better knowledge of how things would turn out.

“Don’t you ever apologise, you’re perfect, the only thing that I want to ease is your suffering. Is there any news on the operation that can be done, should I get you your medication now?” He wanted to be certain, to ensure that you didn’t put the accountability of your situation completely on yourself, he should have asked if a finger would have been fine, he shouldn’t have been swayed by your persuasion. “I could talk to someone, see if I could get the thing moved up, I can pay for it, get you further up on the ladder.”

“No.” You smiled, pressing an ample kiss upon his scruffy cheek. “I don’t want that, many other people are waiting for the op too, and I can’t have you paying for it. That would just be inconsiderate of me, you have already done so much for me, I can’t ask more. You’ve been there through everything, just wait with me whilst I wait for myself.” You pulled the sheets over your breasts, staring opulently into his serene eyes, shuddering as he swept his lips over your mouth once more, deriving you breathless for a moment.

“It’s okay to be selfish, if any of them had that chance, then they would take it. I can afford it, and I would want nothing more than to pay for it, it’s not just about sex, you know that. I love you so so much, you’re my best friend, the girl of my dreams, I’ve waited for you, I just want the pain that you live through to disappear. Out of all people, it’s not fair that it’s you, but it is, and this is the one way to fix the reductive searing of hurt that you live through.” You gulped, water glazing your irises as you stared at her, trying to diffuse your light sob.

His words brought acceptance to you within the scenario, as you took a deep breath in, confronting the trigger that had set off inside of you. It was difficult to handle and attain to, as you curled in his bare arms, exasperating your soundness close to him, as he competently cupped your face, kissing the tip of your nose. “Okay.” You agreed, nodding sincerely along with your words. “Okay, I’ll do it for me. It’s the right thing to do.” A smile raved his face, as you convinced yourself of doing so. It was to be a long road, but Sebastian would be there holding your hand, travelling down this path alongside you.

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homosexuality-at-its-finest · 3 years ago

Text

To love a hero

A/n: So I'm really sad right now and I'm gonna project that onto my writings, sorry in advance

Plot: Loving a hero is a difficult and heart wrenching task

Pairing: Peter parker x male reader

Y/n: Your name

L/n: Last name

N/n: Nickname

H/c: Hair color

Warnings: lotta angst, happy ending because I’m not a monster, cussing, major character injury

Word count: 1774

Y/n L/n and Peter Parker went way back, even farther than Peter and Ned. The two had been friends since Pre-K, and only grew closer as the years went by. The two were almost interpretable, if one of the boys was seen, the other was close by.

No one really understood their friendship, but no one questioned it either. In high school the two boys became impossibly closer, Y/n was the first to know about Peter’s abilities, the brunette couldn’t keep something so big from his best friend. Y/n was there and helped make his first suit, the boy was there to soothe his aching bones and to nurse his blossoming bruises.

The pair shared an unbreakable bond, they were what love stories depicted. The love between them was seen by everyone but the two. Of course, Peter knew he was in love with Y/n and vice versa, but for two genius’ they were both dumbasses. Hell, even Tony stark noticed the young love blossoming, the billionaire could see how much the pair adored each other.

On multiple occasions he’d tried to coerce the young superhero into admitting his feelings but was always given the same response.

“Y/n doesn’t like me like that Mr. Stark, I’m not ruining our friendship over my feelings.” Simple and to the point, but it drove Tony insane that the young genius was so fucking blind. He opted against bringing it up again after seeing such clear pain in Peter’s eyes every time they talked about it, being a bystander as time passed by.

Maybe Peter couldn’t see how enamored Y/n was with him, but Tony could. Especially as he clutched the said boy against his chest as he let out guttural and heart wrenching sobs.

It had all started off as a normal Saturday, Peter was over at Y/n’s the two sitting on the couch and watching some unknown movie, it was purely background noise. The two boys were to focused on each other and their conversation to care about the movie. The domestic peace was ruined by Peter’s phone chiming, a familiar sound that always caused dread to run down Y/n’s spine.

It was the sound of Peter’s police scanner, hearing the radio chatter begin. “Unknown entity in central park, currently creating a perimeter and pushing back civilians, backup requested.” The look of determination crossed over Peter’s features, and if Y/n knew Peter would listen, he’d beg for him to let the avengers take care of it.

“That’s my cue, I’ll see you later N/n!” Peter did a mock salute to his best friend, easily escaping the home via window. For some unknown reason Y/n felt on edge, his gut tightening painfully. He immediately flicked on the news, only having to wait a few moments before the familiar figure of spiderman flung into frame.

The fight was nerve wrecking, watching as the Villain and superhero alike exchanged punches and kicks, and Y/n knew Peter was probably making stupid quips to keep his anxiety under control. The H/c haired boy gnawed on his bottom lip as he watched the fight escalate, getting more violent by the second.

The villain had hit Peter with all their might, and Y/n could only watch as the boy he loved more than anything was flung against a building before he crumpled to the ground. It was as the world stood still, stealing all the breath from Y/n’s lungs as the figure of spiderman didn’t budge, he didn’t get up. Peter promised he’d always get back up.

He felt like his heart had been ripped out of his chest and stomped on, air was to thick to breathe and he could feel the moisture running down his face and the devastated cry that left his lips went unheard. The boy couldn’t really remember when Happy arrived at his house, a grim expression on his face as he looked at the disheveled teenager.

Y/n couldn’t remember the drive to the compound, it was as if his brain had just shut down, leaving him devoid of any life. Maybe that’s what Peter was like right now, devoid of life. His constant chatter silenced, his jittery movements stilled, his beautiful face pulled into the blank look of death.

The teenage boy could remember that Happy had to pull over so Y/n could vomit on the side of the road, silent sobs clenching his lungs in their vice. Never in all of his short life had he felt so much pain, never had he begged for the sweet release of darkness as he did now.

The H/c haired boy begged any god that would listen for this to be a nightmare, that he’d wake up and he and Peter would still be on the couch. The brunette would tease him for falling asleep, but he’d take anything to make this pain go away.

When he finally got to the compound and saw Tony waiting, the same grim look on his face as happy, it felt like every last shred of his strength and control was gone. Y/n collapsed into Tony’s arms, breaking into pieces. He only processed a few words “surgery” “critical” and “I’m so sorry.” Everything blended together as the billionaire led him to the medical wing, holding onto the breaking teenager, as if his touch would mend him.

Hours felt like eternity, it was hellish. The sobs that once left the teenager were turned into deafening silence, the occasional sniffle leaving the boy, comforting Tony that the child was in fact still alive.

May had shown up at some point, Y/n couldn’t honestly remember when, or honestly care. Not when he felt like part of himself was missing, leaving a gaping hole where Peter once was.

Good news came in the form of a doctor informing them, at hour 4 of waiting, that Peter had survived the surgery and was now stable. If it wasn’t for his healing factor, the teenager would’ve been dead. He was under sedatives currently, so his body could work solely on healing.

It felt like a weight off of everyone’s chest, he was okay, alive and breathing. The 3 walked in silence to Peter’s room, May and Y/n taking their respective sides on Peter, as Tony sat at the foot of the bed.

Hours were spent in silence, May haven fallen asleep not to long after receiving the news that Peter was okay. Tony and Y/n stayed awake, both lost in their own thoughts. The teenager held Peter’s hand, thumb brushing over his knuckles silently. His eyes rarely left the still form, scared that if he looked away the boy would disappear from his grasp.

“Yknow what sucks about loving a hero?” Y/n’s broken voice cut through the silence, starling Tony from his thoughts. He didn’t reply, his gaze falling on the teenager. Y/n looked over at Tony and fuck that look should never be on a child. He looked so broken, so tired.

“I know he’s going to die long before me, and I’ll be stuck in this fucked up world without him.” A humorless laugh broke through the boys’ lips, it sounded watery and oh so broken. “I’m not ready to live without him Tony.” A quiet sob left his lips, his free hand going to stifle it.

“I love him so much, and it scares me so fucking bad.” Y/n’s eyes moved back over to Peter, shakily bringing the sleeping boy’s hand up to kiss his knuckles. Tony felt his chest tighten painfully; this was really a reminder that they were just kids who grew up way to fast.

“He’s not going to die Y/n, not if I have anything to say about it.” Tony replied in a surprisingly gentle but determined tone. He’d be damned if he let this pair get separated, Peter and Y/n deserved to be together. To grow up together and create a life.

The room fell into silence after that, neither of them wanting to broach the topic again. In the early hours of the morning Peter’s doe like eyes opened once more. Every inch of his body ached with an indescribable pain, and he had to hold back a grimace. He was surprised to see the 3 most important people in his life strewn about the room, two fast asleep. Y/n was still awake though, clasping Peter’s hand like a lifeline has his tired eyes burned into the sheets.

Peter gave his best friends hand a gentle squeeze, but it was enough for the boy’s head to shoot up so fast Peter was scared he’d get whiplash. “Peter! Oh, thank God.” The H/c haired boy breathed out, and even through his eyes were red and puffy from tears and purple bags so dark they looked like bruises bloomed under his eyes, he was still the most gorgeous creature Peter had ever seen.

Peter gave a weak smile, squeezing his hand once more. “How long have I been out?” He questioned; head tipped to the side like a curious puppy. “About 12 hours.” Y/n replied, voice cracking slightly.

The gentle aura Y/n held around him quickly disappeared into one of anger. “If you ever do that to me again Peter I swear to God, I’ll kill you myself.” Y/n spit out angrily, but the anger was gone as fast as it had appeared.

“I thought you died, and that was the most painful thing I have ever experienced. I love you, and I’d rather you be with the land of the living.” The confession was made by a boy to tired to process he had said it.

Peter felt a wave of guilt crash over him at the boy’s confession. He knew now wasn’t the time to talk on the subject. “I’m okay N/n and trust me I won’t be doing that again any time soon. Why don’t we sleep and talk again in the morning?”

Peter was exhausted, and he knew his best friend was too, they could talk about this at a later date. As Y/n made a sound of agreement, laying his head against the mattress, Peter knew that everything would be okay. It didn’t matter what horrors he faced, or what pain he went through. He had made a promise to Y/n. He’d get up every time, and he’d be damned if he ever made the Boy he loved go through that pain again.

#marvel #avengers #Peter parker #marvel x reader #marvel x male reader #marvel x you #avengers x reader #avengers x you #avengers x male reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x male reader #LISTEN IM DEPRESSED

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epicene-humanoid · 4 years ago

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some trans Jeff thoughts:

he realized he was trans in elementary school and just went fuck it I'll just start introducing myself as Jeffery and see if anyone decides to stop me (as we know, jeff winger can get away with almost anything)

he got top surgery the second he could afford it (around the same time he started at his law firm), and probably bribed someone to keep it a secret

"I'm jeff winger and i would rather look at myself naked than the women I sleep with" are the words of a man proud of his transition

he's really insecure about his fashion sense, which is why he mostly dresses like the douchey guys at his firm in the start of the show, he thought you can't go wrong with the sleazy lawyer look

he will never admit it but he feels super good about the dean hitting on him, because the dean is a (cis) guy, acknowledging that Jeff is more manly than him

i think he starts out stealth and comes out to everyone one by one, probably starting with abed because he knows abed won't judge him and will probably just see it as an interesting backstory.

abed just says it's cool and maybe worth a prequel exploring Jeff's transition, and jeff asks him to predict how all of the members of the group will react to him coming out.

abed's predictions:

britta will be over-the-top supportive and do a ton of research about trans history, probably put together a slideshow just to prove how progressive she is, and jeff will be a little bit weirded out, but also touched that she did all that for him, though he would never let her know that

shirley will be confused, because she doesn't know how someone she trusts and knows so well could be part of a group she was raised to hate, but ultimately realizes that there's nothing actually against the lgbtq people in the bible, and, as a cool character development arch, starts to advocate against use of the bible to justify bigotry

troy will just think it over and decide that Jeff's physique and coolness are even awesomer knowing how much work he'd had to put in to be like that, and respects Jeff's manliness even more

annie will give him a hug, say something sweet about how she'll always love him, and worry about his health, because even she read somewhere that taking testosterone makes you more likely to have a heart attack, jeff will explain that the risk is still only as high a cis guy, and she'll be the one to always remind him to take his shots

peirce will say at best say "jeff winger used to be a chick?" and at worst call him a slur, either way there's sure to be a lot of misgendering from him, and pestering to know Jeff's deadname (needless to say, Jeff just doesn't tell peirce)

the whole group goes out of their way to keep their beach trips a secret from pierce (the girls don't want him there anyways, he's too liable to be creepy) even though jeff knows that even if pierce saw his scars, all he would have to do is make up a story about some childhood accident and pierce would never question it

sorry this ended up being super long. can I hear some of your headcanons for him?

YES ALL THIS!!! yes yes i’m fully accepting this as canon oh my god

i’m about to type a whole ass ESSAY at midnight because i have been DYING to talk about this for months ajfdksljk,,, this is going to be obscenely long and i might end up adding even more to it as i continue to rewatch the show because there is truly no shortage of trans jeff content (especially when you’re trans and see transness in every little thing ajdkslfkjs)

spoiler warning for literally everything about this show under the cut <3

i 100% agree, i feel like he realized he was trans super young, especially since in the show we see him as a little kid a couple of times.

like look at little jeff with the oversized sweatshirt and little ponytail!! that’s childhood trans fashion. not to be dramatic but part of me thinks that jeff’s dad left before he fully came out to his family (which gives him even more angst about it, because until that one Thanksgiving episode, he’s never able to prove to his dad that he’s a better man), but part of me thinks that his dad left after he came out (which adds that spicy i-should-have-stayed-in-the-closet guilt that he has to work through).

either way, because his dad wasn’t there, he had to base his concept of masculinity on something else, which was becoming a lawyer!! there’s some line that’s like “after the dust and divorce papers were settled the only man i looked up to was [the lawyer guy]”. like, replacing your father figure in your mind with the concept of “a job where you can talk your way in and out of anything and distort other people’s concept of reality”? that’s trans.

and the fucking THANKSGIVING EPISODE... i struggle to watch it without crying hehe <3 yeowch! the dichotomy of willy jr. being the “wrong” kind of man because he’s “too soft” but jeff also not being enough despite adhering to all the social standards of masculinity... fuck!! this whole scene of him telling his dad “i am Not well adjusted” and talking about how he gave himself an “appendix surgery scar” when he was a kid and he still keeps the get-well-soon letters from his classmates under his bed? oh my god. the implication of people loving him not despite his scars but because of them?? trans. i can’t think about this episode for too long or i’ll start yelling.

OH and this scene? where he talks about how his mom got him a girl costume for halloween?? and everyone said “what a cute little girl” and after a few houses he stopped correcting them?? and “once the shame and the fear wore off, i was just glad they thought i was pretty”?? THAT’S TRANS... the man needs validation oh my god... and then in all the halloween episodes we see he has these ultra-masculine costumes (a cowboy, David Beckham, one of the fast and furious guys even though he never watched the movies, a boxer with his DAD’S boxing gloves... god) costumes are about becoming something else and he always chooses to be hypermasculine and that is trans.

THE PHYSICAL EDUCATION EPISODE!!!!!!! being uncomfortable during P.E. is a queer experience. period. but him being specifically uncomfortable in the clothes someone else is assigning to him? trans. “are we gonna talk about clothes like a girl? or use tapered sticks to hit balls around a cushioned mat like a man?” TRANS. and him eventually stripping in public? celebration of transness. and the fact that he eventually becomes comfortable in both the uniform and his own style!! trans!! god i love this episode.

AND AND AND!!! the gay dean coming out episode!!! where it’s the three of them discussing the best way for the dean to come out as gay despite not entirely identifying with that label!! so we have both frankie and the dean who are sort of ambiguously queer, and jeff who’s a stealth trans man who’s probably only out to only the study group at this point. this scene where the dean and jeff have this like eyebrow communication while frankie is talking is just so cute. queer-to-queer communication. “I am so curious” “oh?” “intellectually.” “oh...” ajfdksljfk this scene just screams high school GSA to me and i love it so much.

and SPEAKING of the dean!! i totally see you on that. i feel like jeff has some internalized homophobia/biphobia (like he’d throw punches over someone else, but when it comes to himself he has a lot of shame). and also seeing the dean so confident in all his different outfits/costumes has a weird affect on him bc it’s like “okay, the dean, a cis guy, can do that, but i as a trans guy could Not because that’s Breaking the Rules”. which, like, throwback to the halloween thing. of course there’s no right way to be masculine, but mr. winger does not know that.

another thing!! the episode where their emails get leaked? that includes his emails with his therapist. fuck!! he was outed to the whole world in that episode!! no wonder he was so fucking angry!! this whole episode (and really any time he mentions his therapist) is so interesting when you think about them as a person he talks to about his transition. OH which adds to the thing with the dean!! “and you told your therapist you wanted to be alone this weekend” and “not you jeff, i know you’ll be visiting your dad” ”I told you to stop reading my emails”. luckily his study group has his back and just makes fun of him for emailing astronauts lmao

and WHO can forget “they’re giving out an award for most handsome young man!!!!” what else is there to say about this line besides: he’s trans. you know he didn’t get awarded enough for being a handsome young man when he was a kid, and no amount of compliments when he’s fully-grown can really make up for that. some people crash a kid’s bar mitzvah to cope with the fact that they struggled to be seen as themselves when they were a teenager <3

also his weird relationship with pierce? where he kind of hates him (understandably lmao) but at times has this almost-friends-almost-father-son relationship with him? especially in this episode where he’s forced to bond with him and ends up having a good time by accident (at a barber shop no less, the perfect place to Be A Man with your Man Friend). idk what to say about him besides the fact that pierce says his mom wanted a girl when he was born and made him dress like a girl (and his middle name is anastasia!) so if they’re gonna do any bonding over transness it’s gonna be that.

okay one last thing and then i’ll shut up for the night. this episode kills me (and almost kills jeff hahahahelpi’mcrying). it’s a very Trans thing to not be able to visualize your future self, it just is. growing up trans at the time he did? i don’t know what kind of future he saw for himself, but i’m so happy that he ended up with a group of friends who became his family and love him the way they all do. i’m so emotional over this asshole it’s ridiculous.

in conclusion:

they’re trans, your honor <3

#community #jeff winger #trans jeff winger #GOD i'm gonna make a video essay about it if nobody stops me #yall know that youtube channel AreTheyGay? i want to be that but AreTheyTrans #the videos would just b like... jeff community. neo the matrix. bill and ted bill and ted. audrey little shop of horrors. jo little women.#maybe i should start that youtube channel sjdfklsj #thank you for prompting me to talk about this because i think about it twice a day #i might end up reblogging this and just adding different responses jeff has had to casually homophobic/transphobic things that happen #in the show #like the episode that last photo is from when the dean is like #'spring transfer student dance isn't rolling off the tongue so we're calling it The Tr@nny Dance!' 'much more greendale.'#OH AND ACCIDENTALLY KILLING PIERCE'S DAD!!! HOW DID I NOT MENTION THAT EARLIER SJFKLSJ #'you LITERALLY killed a father!' 'well not MINE dummy!!'#alright i need to do my homework now ajfklsdjfl

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