#I've been struggling with giving my plague doctors more to do and i realize its bc i kind of went into them unplanned

[idolomantises]

I've been thinking about soft-resetting my plague doctor characters. Maybe slowly build up Violet and Lucy's relationship and break off Samson, Atlas and Azalea's throuple and turn them into a very committed (and somewhat unethical) medical trio.

Would you guys be alright with that?

[pascalls]

Hi! I'd love to learn more about Charlie 😊 I've seen you mention that he was an employee of Burns' - what happened to him for him to become a hybrid? I'm also really interested to know how that affected his personality, and his outlook on things, and whether the way people interact with him has changed since. And has he always lived in Springfield? Apologies if that's too many questions (I really love learning about people's OCs 😊)!

You’ve presented me with an opportunity to go into the lore of my OC and now you have NO ESCAPE. WATCH OUT THIS IS GONNA BE LONG.

Charlie has always lived in Springfield, most likely, and is the result of wealthy parents having absolutely no interest in their own child beyond using him as a bargaining chip, attempting to marry him off to another marginally wealthy family so that they can combine wealth and continue to be rich bitches. He was arranged to marry the daughter of the other family, but unfortunately, he’s primarily gay (he has some women exceptions to the rule, but they’re few and far in between). So an arranged marriage would’ve been miserable and terrible. In an attempt to prepare himself for married life, he has a one-night stand with a woman named Carla who accidentally births a little boy, affectionately named Connor. 

Charlie wants to be present for the boy, but urges Carla to keep his parenthood a secret. Their general incompatibility, Charlie’s pre-arranged commitment, and Carla’s eventual disgust for Charlie’s homosexual tendencies keep her from allowing Charlie to truly act as a parent, though she doesn’t waste time in dropping the child off for days at a time for him to look after. Connor grows up knowing his father, but he isn’t very empowered by his mother. As a result, Connor is a bit of a fearful and quiet kid and both Charlie and Carla are at odds. Charlie considered fighting for custody, but did not, for fear that it would throw his whole arranged marriage deal into chaos. Connor remained a secret from Charlie’s parents throughout his childhood.

He got a job at the plant in his thirties so he could at least attempt to learn some sort of independence before being married off (and perhaps learn how to be a provider for Connor without relying on his own parents’ wealth), but with a penchant for numbers, he just ended up being another pencil pushing accountant. Faced with depression, lack of guidance in his own life, his inability to see his son on the regular, and being enormously closeted, he sort of just lived day by day. (Of course, there were some experiments, like his VERY brief one night stand with a particular lawyer, but that ended in a bitter, catty rivalry that carries on to the day.) 

Anyway, my guess is that Burns had it in mind to use some of the plant workers as an attempt to harness the radioactivity that just kind of FLOATS around there to combine animal DNA with human DNA and create super-workers that would be much more efficient and trainable, but would complain less about health benefits. Charlie was just the unlucky first pick for guinea pig. He disappeared at the plant for several weeks while his genetic code got all sorts of messed up and only escaped with the help of the other idiot plant workers that didn’t do their due diligence at locking up the section of the plant that Burns had him tucked away in. But now he looked like a horrible mutant - in his opinion - and he holed up in somewhere in the woods until nightfall. 

Once night came around - it was raining too, which didn’t help - he made a break for it to try and hide out somewhere in the town. Unfortunately, a certain reverend decided to accidentally plow into Charlie with his car and had to drag him home to his basement because 1) he couldn’t tell the cops that he’d just killed someone, if Charlie ended up dead 2) this thing isn’t human. When Charlie eventually came to in Lovejoy’s basement, he decided that this was the opportunity he had to live a new life. Be someone entirely different (though why he didn’t change his name is his own particular brand of stupidity, but luckily, Burns’ little pet project was soon forgotten by the man himself and Smithers is reluctant to give Charlie away because he’s not that invested). 

So he let his hair grow, let himself be more open about his sexuality, and took up smoking and drinking (and a number of drugs to cope with the trauma of having your entire body changed without your consent), and now is the over-the-top, sometimes wildly inappropriate gay lizard you now see today, though he still does his best for his son, whose mother is only marginally aware of anything that happens in town. His parents were told that he had died in a tragic accident and seem to be just fine with that. They’ve not made any attempts to find him themselves and his previously arranged fiance found another man to wed.

BUT HIS NEW LIFE IS STILL NOT WITHOUT ITS STRUGGLES. He falls in love with the stupid sardonic nature of Reverend Lovejoy and constantly works to undermine the man’s religion (though he’s marginally careful about boundaries, i.e.: he would never disparage Helen, nor would he take it upon himself to sabotage their marriage), but he’s relatively unsuccessful. He falls deeper and deeper, further complicating things when he dons a hokey Halloween costume so he can go out and live a life free of persecution because of his non-human nature. He takes on the role of a new-age plague doctor (despite knowing next to nothing about medicine), and gets a job at Springfield Elementary as the school nurse (despite not having any credentials, but who does). 

He regularly attends church - just for the sake of being present in town - and finds an enemy in Ned Flanders who takes up far too much of Lovejoy’s time for Charlie’s envious nature to be satisfied with - and bounces wildly between pining for a man he can’t have and trying to keep himself from constantly throwing hands with Flanders (who has a suspicion that Charlie is some kind of demon presence put on Earth to turn the reverend away from God, which incidentally, might not be that inaccurate). 

Most people in Springfield never knew his name before, and thus don’t make the connection between who he is now and who he was before, but he is careful with divulging too much personal information to anyone. Despite that, he regularly explores intimacy with other men because of his desire to be appreciated, loved, and doted on (which he is most certainly not getting from Lovejoy), including several nights spent with Smithers who becomes a bit of a confidante. On that note, while he does his best to maintain his secret, there are a number of people who know that he is not human, including Marge (a mother-figure to him, despite them being the same age, but she gives him good advice), Lisa (because she isn’t dumb), Superintendent Chalmers and Principal Skinner (both involved in some shenanigans that need a lot more context to get into lmaoo), and eventually, Sam the barfly. 

As he is now, Charlie is constantly looking for some kind of reassurance in the form of affection, but is increasingly frustrated by Lovejoy’s insistence that there is nothing between them, despite evidence to the contrary and heavily influenced by the man’s (and his own internalized) apparent homophobia. (I made an animatic with them several weeks ago and it very much embodies their dynamic.) He buries himself in drinking and drugs to chase away his feeling of inadequacy and his fears of being a good parent, as well as his realization that his parents never truly cared, how he is slated to be relatively alone for the rest of his life, and the fear that he will never be normal again. But he combats this deep depression with his over-the-top personality, at times, and his smarmy, self-absorbed facade of confidence that would shatter if anyone poked a little too hard at it.

AND THAT’S WHERE HE IS NOW.

Thanks for coming to my TED Talk.

[haikyuu-imagines-and-others]

Hello lovelies! Hope life is going well for you. I've been having a rough few days and was hoping I could request a soulmate AU with Asahi or Tsukishima or Ushijima meeting reader for the first time on V-day. Reader is an ex-vball player and was going through physical therapy because they just want to play again. If not, no worries I completely understand. But if so you'd literally be my favorite person right now.

I love SoulMateAU!!!! I love all of them so very much! I’m sorry this is so late though haha its May and this was supposed to be posted around Valentines??? Please forgive me! And thank you for requesting! - Admin Satori

SoulMateAU Selected: @virgno Soulmate au where instead of having the first thing they say tattooed on each other, they instead have a random sentence tattooed that that person will say around them. And so you know it’s not just a coincidence when they say it, the tattoo stings and fades away.

Azumane Asahi:

How could something so insignificant be hurting you so much after years of being dormant? All you’d done is use your knees for receiving on your college Volleyball team! That’s all! And now you’re knees felt like they were about to pop out of their sockets!

You hadn’t thought anything of the pain, initially - mostly because you’d been dealing with pain your whole life. Sports life was rough on the body, after all.

But before you knew it, you were falling to the ground while walking to your next class. You managed to save yourself, gripping onto the bannister next to the stairs. But one of your knees still tapped against the hard floor…. You’d been hit in the face with a spiked volleyball almost too many times to count, and that didn’t come close to the pain you felt explode from your knee!

Thankfully, you’d been near some friends, and they helped you to your feet, scared to touch you in case it’d somehow affect you further! But you were a trooper, no amount of pain was going to keep you down! “I shouldn’t have fallen so many times…” You couldn’t help but regret your favorite move of falling to your knees right in front of the falling ball. While, hell yeah did it look cool, it was terrible for your body. So many shocking stops rocked through your body every time you pulled off that save. The crowds would go wild, you’d feel pride swelling in your chest, and the game would continue on.

The abuse of your body would keep taking its toll on it.

“I’m fine, I swear! Just go to class and I’ll see you later, okay?” Your friend frowned, not believing you’d be alright - not because you wouldn’t recover but because they knew you’d just go at the sport again. It wasn’t Volleyball season, so you had a break from the sport… but you’d be back. The game had you by the soul.

You don’t know how long you sat in the waiting room, feeling your knee twinge now and then, not knowing if it felt more ticklish or painful to react properly. If you were being honest with yourself, you were scared to touch it. Worried you’d somehow screw it up more. Which would’t be a surprise to you, since you were the reason you were sitting alone in the on campus physicians office anyway.

After a few minutes of staring at the clock on the wall across from you, being lulled into a sort of rhythmic trance, you pulled your attention away from it…. To instead stare down at your inner arm.

At the tattoo that’d plagued your body since the day you were born.

“T-Tsubaki-Sensei, I need your signature for this.”

What a dumb thing to have written on you. Did your soul mate have a speech impediment? Who was Tsubaki-Sensei? Why’d they need a signature?

Irritation had formed in the pit of your stomach as soon as you’d known what the tattoo meant. The first words your soul mate uttered. Either to you or not was really up to the fates. Your last name wasn’t Tsubaki. You didn’t know anyone by that last name, or first! There were so many places that needed the signature of a superior or advisor… You’d felt an irritation of hopelessness gnawing at your heart for the longest time. As far back as you could remember, really, there’d always been that feeling of ‘I’ll never find them’. Desperation or depression, you were torn between the two.

If anyone asked, you’d claim you’d given up. Didn’t care whether you’d find them or not - that it was their loss if neither of you found the other. Truly their loss since you were obviously so amazing, right? Your thoughts soured, taking your mind off the still twitching pain of your knee.

“I just want to go home.” Oh how you wanted to pull your legs to your chest and hide your face in your knees…. But you didn’t - that would hurt more than they were right now. And you were in public…. You could wait to get home to cry… Alone in your room and wondering where in the vast world was your ‘soul mate’.

The door to the physicians offices opened, revealing a sweet looking young woman, “_______-san? The Doctor will see you now.”

You wanted to be rude. You wanted to point out that the ‘doctor’ wasn’t really a doctor. He was nothing more than a student practicing on others to further his experience. If you’d really had the choice, you would have gone to see your family physician, someone you trusted to actually take care of you and not treat you like a guinea pig.

But you held your tongue and struggled to your feet, feeling your knees protest when you almost feel forward. Karma for wanting to be rude, you supposed. But you paid no mind to it and pushed forward, reaching the door a bit later after the announcement than you would have liked.

The nurse, much shorter than you, offered you her hand as a form of support. And you took it. “That looks pretty painful… We’ll probably be giving you crutches until we get your X-Rays back.” It was going to be a long day, you knew she wanted to say. Or at least a long recovery road.

“Well, as long as I heal quickly. I have plans for the Volleyball season coming up.”

The young lady didn’t say anything in response, internally shaking her head at your stubbornness. Physical Therapy was a timely thing, that you’d have to partake in, if you were ever going to get any better. But she remained silent, knowing you were in a foul mood from your sudden injury. Helping you onto the examination table, she took her report clipboard and took some information from you. Name, birthday, last four of social, student ID - even your blood type.

You weren’t in the mood to deal with so many pleasantries. You wanted nothing more than to go back to class. For a second you found amusement in your preference. School over a sick day? Imagine that.

Just as the young woman was about to ask you to stretch your leg out - to see the extent of your damaged knee, the examination room door opened to reveal an older man. If you had to guess, you’d say he was about 3 years older than you. A Senior. Getting his PhD. Practicing on students who had serious ailments or issues.

“My, My, Now what happened to you? Slip and fall?” You shook your head, “Jump down five stories and land rough?” Another shake of your head, “Past sports injury?” No movement from you had the doctor smiling before holding up a beige folder, “It’s in your file.” God, now you were really irritated. You just wanted to go home. Or class. Whichever got you furthest away from this supposedly funny doctor. “I’m Dr. Tsu-“

The door opened once more, and you felt a flash of anger rise from your chest - weren’t there enough people in the room making fun of your pain? You didn’t need any more!

A young man peeked around the door to see the doctor was waiting patiently for him to speak, “T-Tsubaki-Sensei, I need your signature for this.” He walked into to room, beelining straight for the doctor for what he needed so he could go.

New pain. Searing on your arm - as if someone took a flame and held it close to your skin. You inhaled sharply and pulled your arm to your chest, feeling your skin throb from the sudden irritation to it. Letting out a deep sigh, one that held the aftereffects of catching your breath, you looked down at your arm.

But you had to do a double take. Once at the young man who’d entered - scruffy looking almost, man bun, dark… deep, cute… brown eyes that kept looking around the room anxiously - then back at the tattoo… that HAD been on your arm. It was gone. Completely Gone.

The only thing that remained, to give an inkling to the presence of a tattoo to begin with…. Was a simple scar - very light, as if you’d gone to get the tattoo removed.

Then your eyes were back on the young man, and he noticed your staring almost immediately. He coughed uncomfortably, not seeing the current surprise and dilemma you felt in your heart. You’d SEEN this guy before. You’d known about him - about his high school records on his volleyball team. Azumane Asahi. The famed Ace of Karasuno’s Revival… And he was here in the physicians office? Nowhere near your current clique. So far from your possible reach.

How would you have ever found him? If not for this moment? If not for your injury.

“You? You’re supposed to be mine?” How could you not be incredulous? Years you’d wondered who he was talking to, why he had to answer to anyone, why he had a stutter to his voice - was he anxious? Scared? Worried? Come to find out, he was all three at once - a bundle of nerves just for you. Azumane Asahi was your soul mate.

Asahi suddenly hissed, his hand pressing against his ribcage - feeling a burning sensation wrack through his body. But his lightbulb went off faster than yours had - and then he was staring back at you with wide brown eyes, a soft blush coming to his cheeks when he realized just how…. Sudden this meeting was… he looked a mess and you… well, you looked beautiful. He’d heard about you, too. You were a legend from your own Volleyball team, the current volleyball team. “_-_-_______? It’s… It’s you?”

Despite the suddenness of the reconnection of two souls in all the cosmos, you couldn’t help the fond smile on your face, prompting his own to imitate you, “So… I’m assuming your my Physical Therapy Doctor?”

Tsukishima Kei:

“Are you dense?”

What kind of asshole would you end up with that would talk to you like that? All these years, you’d been self conscious - not only of your intellectual impact and skill, but of the words that marked your body. How negative and rude they’d seem on your worst of days.

To make up for your soulmates already predetermined foul mood, you’d tried so hard to be positive - to show the light in the darkness, to be able to lend a hand or a shoulder for friends who were drowning in their own sorrows…. Not that they truly had much to be sad about… You were the one with an asshole for eternity.

But thinking like that would only cause darkness to enter your heart, so you pushed those thoughts away… Because you wouldn’t let your rude soulmate predetermine your own attitude.

“I wonder if he’s actually really nice… Like a total sweetheart.”

You were shaking your head before they finished with their sentence, “I doubt it… What kind of ‘nice’ person belittles someone without even knowing them?” Your close friend, Yuki, was quite the optimist when the two of you were compared. You wondered if your soulmate would make a better pair with her rather than you, who had to try your hardest at being kind and nice. It was just so easy to be rude and sarcastic!

Yuki shrugged, “Well, who knows? You might be surprised- ______! Watch out!”

Before you could understand what she was warning you about, a large mass came crashing into your body, effectively knocking the air out of you. Their form was much larger than yours, and you stepped back in a barely recognizable sense to equalize their weight with your own. But your foot caught the wrong angle of the curb of the walkway, and you felt your ankle roll under your weight.

Thankfully, the body of the young man who’d crashed into you was removed, and apologies went flying when they realized you’d drop to take in the damage of your ankle. But you didn’t cry. You bit your lip harshly, tears springing in your eyes, and heavy breathing wracking your lungs. But not a single whimper escaped from your. Which the young man thought was odd, “I am so so sorry! Oh my God… Here, let me help you… “

You wanted to push him away, wanted to beg Yuki to tell him to leave - hell you wanted to curse your lungs out at the idiotic boy who throws his body around like a ragdoll! You had quite the extensive vocabulary for curses, so you knew it would hit home at one insult or the other.

But you only pressed your lips together tightly and nodded your head, feeling Yuki’s softer hands reach down to help you back to your one good foot, “______, it’s alright to cry, you’re hurt!” Your inhale was shaky and slow, and Yuki’s eyebrows shot up, “Uh.. Yeah we need to get her to the nurse as soon as possible…. She’s about to lose it.”

“Like her mind?”

“Like her patience.” The young man jumped into action and swooped you into his arms before trotting over to the nurses station inside the building. The journey was less than comfortable, and you felt every single of his footfalls shoot electric fire to your jarred ankle.

Thankfully, the scene of the accident wasn’t far from medical help, and you were sitting in an examination room before you could really come to terms with the pain currently ripping through your ankle. The young man stayed with you, his guilt pulling his senses from any other priority he’d had before crashing into you.

You supposed on a certain level you appreciated his taking responsibility for what he’d done. But more so than not you wanted to punch his damn lights out for possibly putting your volleyball career in jeopardy.

“________ was it? I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention and I was just doing my afternoon jog around the school and I guess I got so into picking the music and - “

He shut his mouth as soon as you held up your hand, he was well trained and you briefly wondered by who but it ultimately didn’t matter, “Look, I just need you to shut up and let me mourn the loss of my foot, okay?” The door opened and in came in a tall, lanky, blond young man - not 2 years older than yourself you were sure. He was good looking, but you were currently giving the jarhead to your left the chewing out of his lifetime. “Thanks to you, I’ll never be able to play volleyball again, do you realize that? It’s all your fault, you blind idiot.”

You could have sworn you saw the doctor flinch.

Years of being nice and kind and sweet, crumbling before you in a split second - an accident that could cause your entire life to fall apart was all it took for your patience to completely snap. The young man looked downright ashamed, his shoulders low, his head hung, his eyebrows furrowed as he internally wracked his brain for anything to say to make up for what he’d probably done.

Cool fingers touched the heated, swelling of your ankle, and you jumped in surprise - restraining your knee jerk reaction to kick the perv in the face! But when you looked down at your ankle, you saw the top of the blond doctor’s head. He didn’t say a word, just allowed his fingertips to gently, with a ghostly stroke, poke and prod your ankle. He was a professional, it seemed, so you didn’t question him.

Shifting beside you had you glaring at the young sports boy, “I don’t think your career is ruined…. Maybe delayed… You know there are a lot of great athletes who’ve had to go through physical therapy to get their movement back.”

Your glare didn’t lessen, in fact you threw in an ‘unimpressed eyebrow’ to make it more severe. You felt eyes on your face, and when you glanced back down to the doctor, you could have sworn he’d turned his attention back to your ankle. Though there was a slight uplift to his cheek… As if he were smiling at you giving this jock the business.

“I know you don’t believe me, _____, but it’s going to work out! It’s going to be hard as hell, but it’ll be fine! Physical therapy is the end all to accidents!”

The fingers on your ankle stilled, and the blond doctor tilted his head a bit, his eyes squinted as if he were trying to see through what the jock had said to see the truth… Or at least the sense of his words. His lips pursed, then pressed together to keep what he had to say to himself.

But in the end, he couldn’t contain himself. “Are you dense? Physical therapy doesn’t fix everything, moron. You’re lucky it’s only a sprained ankle and not something worse. What kind of idiot thinks Physical Therapy can solve everything they screw up on?”

Stinging pulled your attention from the conversation in front of you, pulled it straight to your hip. Your hand rested over the tingling you felt under your waistband, but you needed to know. You needed to know now. So you leaned back on the examination table, resting on your hand as you pulled down the waistband of your pants just enough to see where your tattoo…. Had been.

All that remained was irritated skin… And the outline of what had once marked your body for so long.

“Jeez, Tsukishima, you don’t have to be an asshat about it just because you’re a fancy pre-med.” The jock held up his hands in mock defense, finding the doctors insults to be a bit much even for his track record.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you finally looked up from your hip, away from the red skin, from the faint hint of a tattoo…

And you met the eyes of the young man who’d uttered the rude words that had plagued your entire life. Hardened gold, sharp and observing…. You. The gulp that rushed down your throat was not your decision, but at the sight of it the doctor, Tsukishima, sent you a smirk.

“I thought… I thought you’d say that to me…” It was so soft, you weren’t even sure you’d call that a whisper, especially not coming from you.

Tsukishima stood up straight; You hadn’t noticed how tall he was when he’d entered the room. It was almost like he was ignoring you as he picked up your medical record and made his notes, indicating what actions he’d taken and what would be the next steps in your recovery. “Ryo… You can go now - I’ll issue her a pair of crutches and contact someone who can help her to her dorm.” The young man, Ryo, went to protest, but Tsukishima shooed him away without another word.

“Good luck, ______… Salty-shima.” A baby snide, but it had you snickering at your doctors expense.

Then silence enveloped the room, the air between you and Tsukishima seemed… charged.. Or maybe expecting… The two of you had been destined for the other, so you’d both known this moment was coming… That didn’t make either of you prepared for the moment you’d meet. And while the two of you tried to grasp at anything to say to the other, to their own soulmate, Tsukishima took his time in wrapping your very angrily swollen ankle in a tight but necessary gauze.

“Did you know who I was…? When you walked in?”

He hadn’t thought you’d notice his flinch, so he nodded, “The inside of my bicep felt on fire. But I had no idea it would be you before this. Aren’t you supposed to be the nice one?” A small teasing smirk, and you felt your heart soar into your throat, making a blush bloom across your cheeks at just the sight of something so snarky.

You couldn’t tell if you wanted to hit him or kiss him.

“Oh, nothing to say?” Another smirk, and you could feel his poking at your self control, “I figured you’d give me some sort of challenge.” You cleared your throat and he glanced up at you curiously, raising a fine blond eyebrow.

“My challenges seem to be more of the…. Physical … type….” You winked, and internally you were screaming. Did you really just come on to your own soulmate within the first hour of meeting each other?? What kind of horn-dog were you??

But an amused chuckle escaped his mouth as he rose back to full height, taking note in your record as he dug, “Not with that ankle they aren’t.”

You had never been so excited to be bullied.

Ushijima Wakatoshi:

For years you’d felt a harsh sense of jealousy… eating you alive every moment you were with your friends or family… With people who’d both met their soulmate and those who hadn’t yet - no matter where you were you felt raging envy ripping you to shreds.

Not because you were alone.

Not because your tattoo, the first thing your soulmate would say to you, was placed oddly on the pressure point of your neck.

Neither of those things had cause the green monster inside you to cause havoc of your life. Those two were manageable.

“You.”

That’s what your tattoo said. Simple. One word. You couldn’t remember the last time ‘you’ wasn’t used in talking to another human being, animal, plant - for fucks sake you were sure it was used when referring to companies and buildings! You wouldn’t doubt it at the very least!

So realizing how ultimately futile it would be for you to talk to every single person, and get your hopes up every single time their first word to you wasn’t you… it’d been the day you’d lost all hope. There wasn’t a point to searching for him anymore.

After the sense of despair of helplessness passed, though, you moved onto rejection. Did you really want a man who only said one word to his soulmate? One word to anyone in general? Why would you want someone so communicatively delayed?

Your course of action at that time was to avoid anyone of the opposite sex that you hadn’t talked to already. Purposely turning the other way and walking away without an explanation. You’d even done it to a few professors when they’d come to welcome you to their class. You’d be damned if you ever met this bastard who couldn’t talk to save his ass.

When you tripped over a fellow player during a Volleyball game, you thought you’d hit the jackpot! This meant being home, bedridden, the only people coming or going would be friends and family, people who knew you and could actually talk like normal adults!

But the stars in your eyes had immediately beens snuffed out when you came to conclusion… If you didn’t fix your busted knee… you’d never be able to play your favorite sport ever again.

That had been your motivator. That had pushed you to go to physical therapy and take their medications to help with the pain. Those doctor meetings were quiet. Almost cold whenever the doctor referred to you, or asked for your opinion on something. Not that they really noticed, you offered, they were too busy making money off your injury.

The very first day in the physical therapy building, in the exercise workshop, you felt…. Something close to dread fill your body.

So many young men. Each with their own physical issues. None of which… you’d ever met before.

With each eager young man coming to you, introducing themselves and offering their help in your recovery, you felt more at ease. None of them hit that magic word. None of them seemed to care for anything other than possibly touching your body. Which you immediately put a stop to, saying you were fine helping yourself.

Each day a new young man came in with an injury, sometimes a girl, and each day someone would get healthy enough to pass the physical therapy challenge and move on with their lives. Move on from this obstacle of getting better and exercising their injured body part.

But no matter how much exercise you did… Your knee only seemed to get worse. Only hurt a little more every day.

Your hand slipped from the railing that held your weight as you exercised your knee. And you felt like you were immediately going to perish now that you had no support under you. Unknowingly, you let out a yelp of surprise when you fell forward.

But you didn’t hit the ground. Your legs hand’t buckled under you. In fact they were stock straight as if you had just been about to fall face first against the floor. You’d closed your eyes tightly but when you felt yourself being pulled back up to a standing position, albeit crouching since you still needed the support of the hand rails, you opened your eyes and turned your head to face your savior!

Olive eyes met your gaze dead on, and you felt a sense of… not quite unease, but more concern. Had he been staring at you the entire time? You cleared your throat, still dedicated to not uttering a word to any male. Not while you were still an unclaimed soul. You didn’t want to give anyone the satisfaction of the possibility. Especially your soulmate who didn’t even know how to properly talk to someone!

You recognized your savior. He was the ace of his high school, and you thought you’d seen his teams promotional pictures all over the campus to bring in the crowds to his college games. Ushijima, you thought his name was. Or something close to it. Thankfully, you noticed he wasn’t much of a talker either, he nodded to you before turning and doing his healing lunges back to the other side of the room.

From that day forward, you couldn’t stop thinking about his eyes. His furrowed eyebrows. Had he been waiting for you to say something? Had he been thinking you would? You’d wanted to, you wanted to be polite to anyone who helped someone out… But how could you risk it?

Not that there was much to risk. Your disappointment? Your pride? Maybe just a few seconds of your time?

It hadn’t been two weeks since he’d helped you from falling on your face, and you couldn’t stop glancing over in his direction whenever you were able. You didn’t think you were obvious, but more than a few times you’d catch his gaze - and a warmth would bloom in your chest before spreading across your cheeks and making you look away.

But he wasn’t innocent. More than a few times, you’d catch him staring at you. An unrecognized expression on his face, as if he were lost deep in thought. You’d heard around that Ushijima was more of the strong and silent type, only speaking when absolutely necessary or whenever he saw fit. You respected that about him. You’d also heard he was more of the gentle giant, that he usually looked very scary and unapproachable or even like a monster… but he was nothing more than a giant teddy bear.

So it wasn’t scary for you to walk straight up to him, with your crutches pinching your underarms, “Why are you always staring at me? Haven’t you seen someone recovering from a messed up knee before? Don’t you think you could be a little more subtle?” You huffed in frustration, sending him a glare, wanting him to know you didn’t appreciate his blatant staring. “What are you staring at?” Rhetorical, you knew it was you, but you wanted to know why. What about you was causing his eyes to return to you with every chance he got.

The flinch of his was so minuscule, so minor, you weren’t sure it was what you’d seen. Maybe one of his muscles twitched? Maybe he’d taken issue with what you’d accused him of.

But Ushijima felt an explosion of fluttering erupt in his chest, and the following warmth had his olive eyes softening as he stared down at you. He wasn’t one to make the first move, and thankfully you’d done that for him. So he didn’t feel too worried when he reached out and pushed your hair behind your ear.

Revealing your tattoo.

“You.”

Just as you were going to slap his hand away, accuse him of being like all the others and saying your tattoo just to make it seem like he was your soulmate…. You felt pain shock over your pressure point. As if your tattoo had erupted into flames.

Your hand reached up and covered your tattoo, or at least where it had been, and your eyes twinged almost closed while you stared up at him. Ushijima’s expression was unreadable as he lifted his shirt with his other hand, showing off his impressive torso. SO many muscles, so much skin to touch, your fingers twitched against your jaw - you WANTED to touch him.

But that wasn’t the reason he was flashing you. Your eyes took their time appreciating his physique before landing on his pectoral muscle… His knuckles resting on his skin just before his collarbone, just above the irritated skin. You could barely make out what it had said before burning him - but the trace remains pointed to your accusatory question.

So this was your communicatively delayed soulmate.

[alexiela73]

Hi, I'm kinda new here so idk if you've gotten this kind of request for hc/short fic before but here goes nothin I guess. How do you think junkrat/roadhog, mccree, hanzo, and gabriel help out a disabled/chronically ill s/o on a bad flare day? (Btw I've been reading what you write and I really enjoy it :) ..)

I have not gotten one specifically for this yet. I hope these are okay. And thank you! XD While i like writing for myself, I find more satisfaction in writing for others, so I’m glad you enjoy what I’ve posted

Junkrat:

Is aware you have diabetes

One day he comes over for the day to hang out

The two of you were going to go out and go to the junkyard in search for scrap parts for his next big invention

Except when he gets to your room, he finds you sitting at the table with your head in your hands

Immediately concerned, the junker drops the dirty sack meant for the parts on the floor by the door and hobbles over 

“Ye okay, darl’? Ye look a bit pale,” Junkrat says, noticing your pale complexion and the way your eyes seemed a bit distant. Carefully he kneeled on his peg leg, watching you with concern

Giving him a tired smile, you noted his face was dirtier then usual and reached up to gently wipe at his face with a napkin from the table

“Your so dirty,” you whisper, sighing heavily and feeling bad.

Catching your hand, Junkrat presses a kiss to the inside of your wrist, before pausing.

“Have ye taken yer blood thingy with the needle jabber ye have?” Junkrat asked, looking at you with concern now. He’d seen you with low blood sugars but obviously it was a bit worse then usual.

Giving an exhausted nod, you brush your finger tips across his cheek. “I’m sorry, Jamie. I just don’t have the energy to go to the scrap yard today. I feel like I might topple over, honestly,” you said apologetically, hoping he wouldn’t be too disappointed.

Shaking his head, Junkrat stood and straightened his back, showing his true height as he towered over you. Then he leaned and scooped you up, causing you to squeak. Despite having a wiry thin frame, the man was well built and seemed to have endless energy and strength, you once noticed.

“Don’t mind me, darl’,” Junkrat said, plopping you down on the couch. He got your fuzzy slippers for you, before rummaging through the cupboards and fridge. He brought back a can of pop and a bag of chocolate covered pretzels for you, before sitting beside you.

 “Here. Movie day is just as good, as long as it be with me best girl,” he said with a goofy grin.

The look of adoration you gave him made today all the worth it. “Thank you,” you said gently, before snuggling to him for the day as he worked on raising your blood pressure with you and letting you relax to get your strength back

McCree

The two of you were out for the day 

Despite having heart disease, the two of you ended up buying a ranch half a year ago

The place is a lot of work but usually your good about not working on your bad days and being honest about them

Today you weren’t. The two of you were going to go for a ride through the meadows and have a nice lunch out. Wanting to very badly, you didn’t tell Jesse about how your chest had been hurting since you woke up.

When you found yourself a bit short of breath during the start of the ride, Jesse noticed. You insisted you were fine and that your horse’s speed was a bit rough today

Jesse didn’t believe it. Butterfly rode like a dream. 

The two of you were almost getting to the spot when suddenly, the pain in your chest intensified. Pressing a hand to your chest, you gasped for air and felt blackness at the corners of your vision.

“Y/n!” Jesse gasped, turning his horse around and hurrying over just as you fainted. You were lucky, he caught you from falling off the horse just in time.

When you woke up, the pain was a dull ache in your chest. You were laying on the couch in your living room, and you blinked hazily as you struggled to remember exactly what had happened last.

Jesse sat on the edge of the coffee table, holding your hand and looking to be both angry and relieved.

“Jesse-” you croaked but he cut you off.

“You can’t do that, y/n. We agreed when we got the ranch that you would take it easy. You should have told me you weren’t feeling good,” Jesse said, clutching your hand desperately. He had been so worried, and you know it scared him, the thought of anything happening to you.

A slow smile tugged and your lips, and when he saw it he rubbed his eyes. “Why are you smiling?” he growled, but was silenced when you reached up to caress his cheek.

“Your right. I’m sorry, Jesse. I just…I’m so grateful to have someone who cares so much,” you say softly, the look on your face serene as you squeeze his hand. For a moment he just looks at you, as if considering whether or not to let you off the hook. 

Finally he rests his forehead on your shoulder and lets out a long sigh.

“I love you, stupid,” he mumbles, before pressing a kiss just before your ear.

Letting out a soft chuckle, you relax.

“I love you too, you goofball,” you murmur.

Hanzo

Today Hanzo had woken and noticed that you had been a bit difficult to wake up

When you did, you had been really tired. It didn’t take you long to realize your lupus was acting up but you refused to admit it

Touching your forehead, Hanzo had immediately noticed the hot fever plaguing you as you attempted to insist that you would be fine

Your joints were really aching this morning, and Hanzo could tell by the way you winced whenever you moved.

Hanzo ended up sentencing you to bedrest for the remainder of the day, even though it was the day of one of japans biggest festivals

You had been so excited to go…it broke your heart that you would have to miss it, but you knew as well that you couldn’t go out in your condition.

You tried to tell Hanzo to go, but he just gave you a look that left no room for arguements. Instead, Hanzo put himself to work making food for you while you laid curled up in bed

Hanzo always stayed home when you weren’t feeling good.

Around lunch time, Hanzo walked in with a tray. There was homemade stew for you, as well as freshly made juice and biscuits.

You couldn’t help the soft smile that touched your lips. Hanzo always took excellent care of you, going above and beyond to ensure that you would at least be happy while you were recovering. 

“Thank you,” you murmur as you take the tray, watching as he carefully sat beside you. “How lucky I am, to have such a beautiful nurse,” you tease gently.

A smile tugged at his lips. “You really are, aren’t you,” he says quietly, reaching up to tuck your hair behind your hair.

Watching you while you ate, you noticed Hanzo looked a little more lost in thought then usual, more troubled. Usually he went to meditate when he was troubled, but instead he sat there, tracing circles on your knee as he thought.

“Are you okay?” you murmur, before taking another bite full of food.

Blinking, after a moment Hanzo gives you the barest smile. “Nothing to worry about,” he says softly. “I just…get quite worried over you. I am afraid of there ever coming a day where I might have to wake up without you at my side…” 

Stunned, you put down your almost empty bowl of soup to stare at him, realizing what he was worrying over.

“Hanzo Shimada! I am not dying now, nor any time soon. I’ll be damned if if we don’t grow old together!” you said determinedly, wishing he could try and be as sure of it as you were. You’d fight tooth and nail to live as long a life you could with this man you loved.

Eyes meeting yours, Hanzo hesitated before a real smile touched his features. “You are right. You are a fighter,” Hanzo murmurs softly, watching you with adoration evident in his eyes. “It will be okay. You’ve never been wrong before.”

With a laugh, you playfully punched his shoulder. “As if,” you murmur, before returning to finish your delicious soup.

Gabe:

It has been two days since you two have spoken

The last time you two had been together, your heart disease had acted up unexpectedly when the two of you had been out shopping. You’d blacked out in public, and when you woke up he’d taken you to the doctors to have a check up, worried for you

This has happened a couple times this year, or at least situations that were similar

Gabe didn’t like to be avoided, so he decided the best thing to do was to come to you. 

Marching up the front steps of your house, he walked in without knocking. Immediately he went upstairs to try and find you, only to see that you were curled up in your bed with your back to the door

For a moment, Gabe contemplated leaving, wondering if maybe you were just sleeping. Then he realized that you were shaking lightly, and slowly he walked over.

“Y/n..” he said softly, reach down and rubbing your back gently. At your touch, you let out the barest sob. It broke his heart.

“Move over,” Gabe urged gently, and you moved over. Crawling into the bed, he snuck himself under the covers before spooning you and burying his face in your long hair.

Silence ensued for a few minutes as he just held you, fingers rubbing soothing circles into your arms as he cradled you against his body. He didn’t want to pressure you to talk, especially when you were upset.

Finally though, you spoke. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, rubbing at your eyes. There was once more a dull ache in your chest. The pain had been evident since the last time you’d seen him.

“Don’t be, baby,” Gabe said softly. “I was just really worried, is all. I just…tell me what’s wrong, baby. Please. Tell me what I can do to make it better.”

At his words, another sob engulfed you. How long would he say that, you wondered? How long before he tired of your episodes too?

“Make it stop,” you whimpered. “Make it go away, Gabe. I’m…I’m so tired…I’m just so tired of it. I can’t do this anymore. I never know when its going to be a good or bad day and I’m so sick of it. I’m just holding you back from having a normal relationship…”

Honestly, you had depression too. This disease was eating at you alive, not just your heart but it was ruining life for you. You felt like it was impossible to enjoy yourself knowing you had this illness.

Gabe would be better off with another girl, you thought, who didn’t faint in public and gasp like a goldfish out of water..

Turning you around, Gabe stared hard into your eyes. “I don’t want to hear that nonsense, y/n. I love you,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “I love YOU. You aren’t holding me back. You are who I want to be with. None of this can stop me from wanting you. So unless your trying to get rid of me, stop thinking such nonsense and just tell me you love me.”

You couldn’t help the tiny smile that pulled at the corner of your mouth when he got pushy. It was a little cute. You had trouble believing it though. How could he…

“Y/N,” he said seriously when you hesitated. “I will never leave you. I promise you.”

You stared back into his eyes, hesitating, wanting to believe him so badly. Gabe didn’t tell fables, you reminded yourself. You couldn’t get better if you continued focusing on all the bad stuff…the voice in your head strangely reminded you of things Gabe had said to you many times over.

Hesitating once more, you hugged him tightly. 

“I love you,” you whispered, sniffling and you couldn’t help being grateful for the gift that was Gabriel in your life.