#THAT MAN HAS NEVER BEEN TO MEDICAL SCHOOL
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Back on my Snowcrow bullshit
Just, Sylus fucking Zayne stupid
Our poor doctor is always on, always calculating, never giving his brain the proper break it needs. He's been going full-tilt since high school if not even earlier than that - he needs a chance to shut off
So Sylus first approaches this with a relaxing getaway. A breath of fresh air out in a lodge (ahem, one of his safe houses) wouldn't hurt. Plenty of sweets and non-medical books and beautiful hiking trails - just anything to get Zayne away from that damn bustling city
It works.... ish. The problem is that Zayne doesn't really have an off switch. This is relaxing, sure, but there's that last thread of tension and thought that keeps him from ever fully letting his guard down. If it was just for losing control of his Evol, he already knows Sylus heals quickly (and on some level enjoys the pain), but whatever it is is stuck in that amazing brain of his
Sylus asks if he can try something, and though he gives very litte info on what he wants to try, Zayne agrees. Sylus trails his fingers along Zayne's throat, chin, cheek, drawing him into a kiss. When he pulls away, breaths still mingling, Zayne quirks an eyebrow at him and says dryly, "You wanted to try kissing?"
Sylus smirks and quips that that's just the start of it
And just, book abandoned on the floor as Sylus presses Zayne back into the couch, kissing him like a man starved, caressing and holding him in all the right places. Savoring all the breathy little sounds he makes, especially as he trails his mouth along Zayne's throat. He gets scolded for biting him like he does - wide and deep, leaving lasting imprints behind - but he's seen the way Zayne traces the marks when he thinks he's not watching, committing them to memory
Zayne insists they should move this to the bed. Sylus can't help agreeing, loath as he is to get off of his partner. They're stumbling through the cabin, unable to keep their hands or mouths off of each other, undressing as they go. Sylus lifts Zayne to lay in the middle of the bed, and straddles him, because he knows how much he loves when he sits in his lap. Sylus holding his face in both hands, rolling his hips slightly against Zayne's, panting as he pulls away to look into the hazy, adoring eyes of his sweet doctor. Speaks between little kisses, some chaste and quick while others take a few seconds, "I want... to try... fucking every last thought... out of that damn head of yours..." If Zayne wasn't a blushing mess already...
Sylus takes his sweet, sweet time with him. The foreplay alone seems to last an hour, Zayne's body all marked up and eager for more
Cut to Zayne on his hands and knees, Sylus's hand around his throat keeping him from falling into the pillows, as Sylus slowly, torturously, thrusts into him. But it's only slow right now, because just a minute ago he'd set a pace so brutal, Zayne was close to finishing. Edged over and over again, to and from his orgasm, his body aching so much to finally release, it's the only thing on his mind. Choking pleas to let him cum in between hiccuping tears as he feels the pressure ebbing
Sylus kissing and biting and sucking marks all along his neck, shoulders and back. Free hand stroking teasingly over Zayne's stomach and chest, never where he needs him most. Frost has already started to form along the headboard, snowflakes drifting from the ceiling, cold drifting up Sylus's hands. That's really how he knows he's succeeded; when the ice turns against him. He uses the chill to tease Zayne's nipples, hard and red and surrounded with bite marks
"I'll let you cum this time," he promises against the shell of Zayne's ear. "You've earned it, my beloved, haven't you?" He speeds up, increasing back to the insane pace from before, while Zayne can only gasp out various yesses, barely aware of what he's agreeing to, just that Sylus has sped up again. Sylus wrapping his hand around Zayne's neglected cock, letting it fuck into his hand with each thrust. Zayne's holding onto the sheets so tight he thinks they might rip, all the more reason to keep going
Zayne finishing first in weeping moans that hitch and catch in the back of his throat, cum spilling into Sylus's hand and onto the bed beautifully. Sylus's hips stuttering before pressing himself as close to Zayne's as possible, burying himself as deep as he can go, pushing into him to hard Zayne has to fight not to be choked on his hand as he's pushed forward
Sylus is slow to pull out, and watches with pride as his cum dribbles out onto Zayne's thighs and over his balls. It's all Zayne can do to stay on his shaking knees. Carefully keeping him from falling over as he helps Zayne flip over onto his back next to the mess he made. Zayne's far gone, panting with his eyes closed and face twisted into the aftershocks of pleasure. Anything he could say now wouldn't register
The ice and frost start to recede as Sylus cleans Zayne off with a warm wet washcloth, thoroughly taking care of his partner. Conscious thought starts to come back while he's wiping the tears and drool off his face, hazy green eyes fluttering open to look up at him. Sylus can't help himself from presses little kisses to the corner of his mouth and his cheeks. Zayne tries saying something, but it's all slurred together and garbled - a first, no doubt. Sylus shushes him and tells him to just lay there for a bit
Once they're (mostly) cleaned up, Sylus lays beside Zayne (opposite the remaining mess on the bed) and cuddles him, holding him close and giving Zayne the time he needs. Once the ice and snowflakes are completely gone, and their breaths have regulated themselves, Sylus kisses his head and teasingly says, "I think I succeeded, don't you?"
This was not meant to be this long I swear
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𝙸𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍
Chapter Three
A Love and Deepspace Fanfiction (Sylus X OC)
Warnings -> Side character death, implications of addiction
<- Chapter Two
An original fan-fiction for Love and Deepspace. I appreciate reblogs but reposting to Tumblr or any other site is not okay with me.
When it rains, it pours.
And it's fucking pouring.
“Sorry!” I exclaim to the poor group of kids that are forced to jump apart in order to avoid being run over by me.
The sky, dark as it may be for the late morning hours, is clear, not a drop of rain in sight. The tragedy I witnessed last night kept me tossing and turning, had my nerves shot to a point of being unable to relax. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the man, Anthony, dying before me. Felt his blood coating my skin. Saw a pair of gemstone red eyes that exposed me right down to my soul.
At some point, I did manage to fall asleep. What I woke up to wasn’t my alarm, but my brothers making a mess of the kitchen. It didn’t take long for the realization that I had slept in to cut me like a dagger. The realization that I was late for work stabbed through me like an ancient sword.
I almost forgot to take my medication on my rush out the door, and forgetting that would have been the cherry on top of this disaster cupcake.
My calves are burning, lungs threatening to give out, but I push myself around the last corner and down another quarter block until I reach Tomes. It blends in with the rest of the modern day architecture, much so that it doesn’t even look like a bookstore, but it’s precious to me regardless. Tomes has been my first and only job, the place that’s filled with the material thing I love most and kind enough to help me keep my brothers and I housed and fed. Maybe not very well, but it’s saved us from being out on the street.
I almost fall on my ass in front of the glass door lined with bars to keep thieves out, partly because of how abruptly I halted, and partly because of the large ‘Permanently Closed’ sign hanging on the door.
“What?” I whisper through my fight for breath, the shock of the sign making it even more difficult to calm my racing heart.
No matter how many times I read it, the letters don't rearrange themselves. My mind doesn't spot a trick my eyes are playing on me.
Chest heaving, I stumble to the door and pull on the vertical handle. It's not locked, so I let myself in. Everything looks just as it did last night, no sign of books being stored away or shelves being moved out. The register hasn't even been opened yet, the till missing and likely still locked up in the safe. The store is dead quiet, and no matter how hard I strain my ears, I can't hear any movement on the first floor. Above me, however, I hear footsteps.
"Russell?" I call, slowly making my way towards the staircase at the back of the store. I've never been to the second floor, because old man Russell lives up there. He did share the space with his wife, Edith, but that was up until she passed away three years ago.
I listen as the footsteps move across the ceiling, hold my breath as they slowly make their way down the stairs. The person who appears isn't elderly, or a man at all.
"Evie?" The woman breathes, one hand resting on her largely round stomach, her eyes red and raw.
"Charlotte."
She's Russell's daughter, his pride and joy. He keeps a photo album behind the counter, and whenever there was free time, he would sit on a stool and flip through it. He's shared with me story after story of the photos, so even though Charlotte and I weren't very close in school before I dropped out, I feel as though I know her like a best friend.
"How are you? How's the baby?" I ask, trying to remain polite despite the questions racing through my mind.
Her laugh is strained as she draws a circle on her bump. "He's healthy. A big mover." She carefully makes her way down the rest of the stairs, and after reaching the bottom, leans against the banister. "I'm sorry, I didn't know how to contact you. I'm still going through dad's stuff."
I swallow the lump in my throat. "He... He's not...?"
Charlotte flashes a sad smile and nods, fresh tears brimming in her eyes. "Yeah. He didn't call me this morning, so I came to check on him. It'll take a while for the autopsy, but he didn't have any physical wounds."
Closing my eyes, I suck in a deep breath and struggle to keep my voice from cracking. It does anyway. "I'm so sorry."
"Me too." She looks down and rubs her belly again. "He was so excited to meet the little one. He never said it, but when he found out I was expecting, I think he was having regrets about waiting so late to have kids."
In, out. In, out. Mentally, I'm focused on my breathing. Whatever comes out of my mouth is pure instinct. "I can't say for sure, but I do know that he loves you. Russell would never regret that."
Charlotte laughs a little and looks up at me again. "You haven't changed. You're still a beam of sunshine, aren't you?" The lightness in her expression falls bleak once more. "Um, listen, about the shop-"
It's my turn to sport a sad smile. "I saw the sign."
"I'm sorry, Evie, but the money I'd get from selling this place is more beneficial to me than to keep it."
"You don't have to explain. You have a family to look after. I get it." I nod towards the counter. "Russell keeps a phone book under the counter, my number's in there. If you ever need a friend, feel free to reach out."
My mind feels like its in a daze as we say our goodbyes. I don't even remember how we said farewell or leaving the shop, but the crisp air zaps me back the second I'm standing outside.
Russell's dead, a man who did more for me than my own father has, a man who hired a desperate young girl even though he really didn't have the budget for it back then. The memories of my time here start coming back to me, the busy days were he, Edith and I rushed around to get the orders stocked on the shelves, the quiet days where he'd place a record in the record player and waltz around the store with his wife. Every holiday, including my birthday, he'd let me pick a book from the store to take home and keep, claiming that my preferred reading material was just collecting dust and deserved a home.
I think he kept ordering romance novels for my sake, given that most of our customers came in for non-fiction.
The size of the sob stuck in my chest feels like I just swallowed a boulder, and no longer trusting myself to stay put together, I lean against the wall of Tomes and slide to the ground. I brace my elbows against the stops of my knees and push the heels of my hands onto my eyes until I see white.
The man I loved like a grandfather is gone, and although I want to do nothing but grieve, another thought blasts through it.
I'm jobless.
It feels selfish to think about it, but it's reality. I'm the breadwinner of the family, Drew and Mateo's shenanigans too unreliable to keep us afloat. If I don't work, my family is screwed.
"Come on, Evie." I whisper to myself, dropping my hands from my eyes. "You're a hard worker. You can find something."
Naturally, I went ignored by everyone who passed by. I'm probably the only freak in the N109 Zone who would stop to check in on someone who looks distressed. Or so I think.
"Evie?"
Looking up, I catch sight of a regular customer of Tomes. He's looking down at me with his eyebrows furrowed, curly strawberry blond hair falling in front of his forehead.
"Hi, Landon." I greet him while pushing to my feet and dusting myself off. "Did you come to purchase more books for your boss? Sorry, but the shop's closed. Russell passed away."
Landon sucks in air through his teeth. "Shit. Another good man gone, huh?"
"A great man." I fold my arms over myself.
I'm not sure exactly how old Landon is, but he can't be too much older than me. He's only got a few inches on me, but his boisterous energy makes him feel bigger than he is. He drops by the store weekly to pick up special order books on his boss' behalf, more rather, his boss' wife. I don't pry into our customer's personal lives, but Landon is a bit of an over-sharer, so I know his boss is in the jewelry business and that his boss' wife craves knowledge on all things.
"How are you taking the news?" He asks, the concern in his pale blue eyes genuine.
I shrug one shoulder. "I'm not sure. I just found out. It feels real but doesn't at the same time, you know? It probably won't sink in fully until I go job hunting."
Landon nods. "I get that. Well, it'll suck not to see you every week. I'm a man of routine." He tilts his head as if thinking. "I'm sure a girl like you will find work easily, but there is a small gig that can hold you over until then."
That has my ears perking up. "What kind of gig?"
He lifts a hand and scratches the back of his neck, letting out a small sigh. "To tell you the truth, my boss' wife has been battling an illness lately. The doctor ordered her to stay in bed, so she can't attend an upcoming gemstone auction with the boss man. It'd be a hit to his social status to show up to a big event like that alone."
My heart sinks into my stomach. "So, you're asking me to...?"
"It'd be one night, and the boss pays well." Landon laughs a little. "To tell you another truth, the reason I came today was to ask if you'd be interested. Boss asked me to try and find him a plus one, and you're not violent, so I wanted to ask you first. You'd just be keeping him company at the auction, nothing more."
My teeth sink into the inside of my cheek. I'm not in a position to be turning down a paying job, and Landon's boss is doing more than well financially-
White hair, crimson eyes, and a stone cold expression flash in my mind. My heart leaps and starts hammering against my ribs.
My mouth suddenly feels dry, and I swallow just for the sake of moving my throat muscles. "I'm flattered that you thought of me, but I just got out something hectic. I don't think I'd be very comfortable taking this job."
Landon looks disappointed, but he nods anyway. "That's fair." Still, he reaches into his pocket and hands me a business card. "Take this anyway, just in case you change your mind. Or get desperate enough."
I almost turn him down again, but the words vanish from the tip of my tongue at ‘desperate.’ Even if it’s the last thing I want to do, refusing an opportunity to keep food in my brothers’ stomachs would be silly.
Forcing a small smile, I take the card and tuck it into the pocket of Simon’s old jacket. He grew out of it a few years ago, but luckily it fits me enough to use until I can afford to replace the one I lost. “Thank you.”
Landon grins. “Of course. All the best to you, Evie.”
He gives me a playful salute before turning around and walking down the street. The card weighs nothing yet feels like bricks in my pocket, a harsh reminder of the hole I’m falling into.
I just hope I can find something to grasp onto before I hit the bottom.
When we had to find a new place to live after Dad bailed and left his children with rent they couldn't afford, there weren't many conditions our new living space had to meet. As long as Drew, Mateo and I could cover it with our pathetic paychecks, it would do. It was pure luck that this shabby apartment building we chose happened to be relatively quiet.
That's not the case now. I could hear the raging voices the second I hit the fourth flight of stairs, could practically feel the walls shake with the noise by the time I reached the fifth. Naturally, this sets me on high alert, and I lighten my footsteps as to not make the floorboards squeak as I move down the hall to my unit.
The voices only get louder.
They're coming from my unit.
My foot freezes an inch above the floor, talons made of ice sink into my chest cavity and shred it, making way for my pounding heart to drum loudly in my ears. It only lasts a second before I'm sprinting the remainder of the short distance and throw open the front door. The knob crashes against the wall with a loud bang, startling the four men inside so badly they jump and whip towards me.
I scan the room. The kitchen looks undisturbed, with the exception of dishes in the sink one or more of my brothers neglected to take care of. The living room isn't trashed, but the poor coffee table has suffered a beating. It's been flipped over, one of the legs snapped at an angle that would be extremely painful if it were human. Standing on either side of the abused furniture is my brothers, older twins on one side and younger twins on the other.
"What the hell is going on?" I ask, eyes shifting from my older brothers to younger and back again.
The boys roughhouse on a regular occasion, but the looks on their faces don't look playful, nor does the way they're standing. Drew is almost chest to chest with Mateo as if using his body as a block, while Simon has his arms wrapped around Troy's waist as if trying to hold him back. The two more hot-headed of the pairs have resumed their glaring contest.
"Evie, you're home early." Drew says, pushing Mateo until he sits on the couch behind him.
"Yeah, I'll explain later." I glance back and forth between the lot of them again. "Someone fill me in, please."
Troy tilts his head and grins in a way that's on the edge of sadistic. "Tell her, guys. Tell her what you've been running around doing every night and spending the family's money on."
My adrenaline was just beginning to climb down, but it spikes right back up. "You know?"
"We just found out." Simon replies, letting his brother go. It seems Troy is no longer interested in physical fighting. "You two tell her right now, or we will."
It's Mateo's turn to smirk. "Ass kissers."
Troy makes to lunge, but Simon catches him again.
"Enough!" I hold a hand up towards Troy, and turn my attention to the older two. "Out with it."
Drew sighs and drops into the empty space next to his twin. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees while running a hand over the top of his head. "We've been working at a club. Mateo's a bouncer and I bartend."
I give his confession a minute to sink in, and after that minute, I'm more confused than anything else. Bouncing and bartending aren't jobs to be ashamed of - they can pull in quite the extra cash in the form of tips, at least for bartending. It doesn't explain why they take more money from the account instead of adding to it more often than they do, but it answers one big question.
They haven't gotten involved in anything gang related, and knowing this now takes a massive weight off my shoulders.
I nod at them. "Thank you for telling me, but why did you feel the need to hide it in the first place? It's not something I'd judge you two for, you know that."
I can feel Simon and Troy growing impatient behind me, but I ignore them for now. I almost consider sending them out of the room, not wanting them to ruin things now that our older brothers have finally started to crack, but I don't. This is a family matter, and they're not children anymore. I don't want them to feel as though I still see them as little kids.
Mateo leans back, crosses his arms over his chest, and crosses his leg so ankle is resting on his knee. "Because we've been paying the dancers for private sessions."
I give his confession a minute to sink in, and after that minute, I'm... "I'm sorry, what?"
Drew sighs and starts to stand. "Evie-"
"You're paying dancers for attention? With the money you make every night plus the funds that are supposed to take care of us?" With every second that goes by, disbelief bleeds into anger. "Are you fucking kidding me right now?"
"If you're going to tell the truth, tell the whole truth." Troy snaps. He shakes out of Simon's hold and moves to stand next to me. "You know how we found out? They brought them here."
I'd rather be punched in the chest so hard I'm left winded than let that be true. "Don't tell me you're paying them for...?"
Drew, who decided to sit back down, hangs his head. Mateo has his face turned to the side, but even then, I can see him fighting to pretend that he doesn't care. Even as kids, the corners of his mouth would twitch when he tried to keep a careless expression.
I feel like I can't breathe, and yet, I can't stop words from coming out and using the precious air I'm struggling to keep in my lungs. "Are you two addicted? Because that's the only thing that would explain your lack of self control. For months I've been busting my ass to keep bills paid for, pulled my hair our trying to budget food and other necessities, trusting that whatever the two of you were up to would pay off in the end, and this is what you've been doing?"
Mateo snaps his head towards me and glares. "Not all of us are perfect little angels, Evie. Books aren't stress relief for everyone."
"Watch it." Simon hisses, appearing on my other side. "She's the reason we haven't starved and still have a roof over our head."
Mateo closes his mouth and turns away again.
I'm not done, not through with laying into them. "You know we're struggling to stay afloat, and not only are you blowing your entire paychecks on dancers, plus digging into the family funds to cover it, but you're also sneaking them in here? You're bringing strangers into our home? In the N109 Zone?"
For a long time, they say nothing. When they do, it's Drew who breaks the silence. "We're sorry, Evie."
Inhaling sharply, I ran my hands over my face. when I finally drop them, I clap my hands together and put on a sunny smile. "You two can start apologizing by getting your act together, because Russell's dead, which means I'm out of a job. I'm pulling the two of you off the account. Whatever we have left has to last until I find a new one."
I turn and storm towards my closet bedroom. The boys resume their bickering, but the migraine settling in my temples doesn't leave me much room to place peacekeeper. As soon as I lock myself inside, I make good on my word and change the password to the family's bank account. I'll slip the new password to Simon and Troy later, but until Drew and Mateo can be trusted, I can't risk them draining the measly three-hundred dollars left in the account.
The calendar app on my phone catches my eye as I close out of the online banking, and my heart sinks. Bills are due in a few days, and that is going to destroy the little savings we have.
"Fuck!" I screech, tossing my phone onto the mattress.
Pulling my knees up, I bury my head between them. The position pulls on my neck and makes my migraine worse, so I lay on my back instead. I didn't turn the light on, not wanting to aggravate my eyes further, but even in the darkness, I can see the outline of my dragon suncatcher hanging above me.
The corners of my eyes burn with tears, and in the shadows I whisper to it. "I don't know what to do."
Of course, it doesn't answer. I close my eyes and take in another deep breath, shove my hands into the pockets of Simon's jacket as I soak up the warmth it provides. I have every intention of taking a nap, numbing out the storm brewing inside of me, but my fingers brush against something that has my eyes snapping open again.
Pulling the small card out, I sit up and, despite the way it'll make my eyes sting, reach up to turn on the light.
"Take this anyway, just in case you change your mind. Or get desperate enough."
I don't want to. I really, really don't want to. Being an arm accessory to a complete stranger sounds like a nightmare, a great way to die and leave my brothers to fend for themselves.
But if I don't do this, we'll slowly die anyway.
Shoving every single emotion into the deepest parts of me where I can't feel them, I dial the number listed on the card. A male voice answers after the second ring.
"Landon? Hi, it's Evie." I look up at the red glass dragon and silently ask it to lend me its strength. "I've changed my mind."
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“Surely the consequences of my own actions and hubris won’t come back and haunt me later in the narrative” -Victor Frankenstein, probably.
#izzy at home#mine#frankenstein#victor frankenstein#THAT MAN HAS NEVER BEEN TO MEDICAL SCHOOL#THIS BITCH DROPPED OUT#HES NOT A DOCTOR#HES AN IRRESPONSIBLE ABSENT FATHER WHO THOUGHT HE KNEW MORE THAN ANYONE ELSE#WHO DOES NOTHING TO FIX HIS MISTAKES UNTIL IT DIRECTLY AFFECTS HIM AND HES SCARED SHITLESS OF HAVING FEELINGS#truly a monster#mary shelley#inktober#Drawtober#inktober 2024#drawtober 2024
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I wish I had any way of knowing whether people have gotten Weirder™ about my name in recent years or if this has been happening behind the scenes the entire time
I've been going by Jay since I was 11. At the time nobody objected to or questioned this, at least not to me; I found out many years later that Jay is supposedly a "boy's name," but nobody ever said 'you can't use that as a nickname, it's a boy's name' and it went completely uncontested by anyone when I switched. Lots of kids announced some manner of name change at the start of a new school year in middle school; it was all normal and fine. My mom and, you know, grandmas and other relatives kept calling me Jessica, which was also fine! I didn't make a big family announcement or correct any relatives on this, I just wanted to differentiate myself from the half dozen other Jessicas in school.
For twenty years!! This has gone on being perfectly normal! My Real Name™ is an increasingly obscure bit of trivia I get to spring on friends who didn't realize I had one, which is always funny (my brother in law didn't believe me and demanded to see my driver's license). My mom and grandmas have largely still called me Jess, and that's also fine! It's nice, even! There's a particular intimacy there of having a name only my mother uses-- but, crucially, I have never asked her not to, or said that I don't like it. And as FAR AS I KNOW, this has all been true and fine for TWENTY YEARS.
My own feelings about it have never changed, and feel, to me, very straightforward: if I tell you that my name is Jay, and you decide that no it isn't, that is a problem. That's the rule. That's literally it. I had a high school teacher who asked on the syllabus for us to write down if we went by something other than our full name, who was nonetheless UNIQUE among all of my teachers from 6th grade onward in always and only ever calling me Jess, even though I signed all my work Jay, all the other teachers called me Jay, he literally asked whether anyone wanted to be called something else and I answered Jay, and I had him for two semesters. I met a work friend of Justin's once who asked upon introduction whether Jay was short for something, and when I told him it was short for Jessica he took it upon himself to call me Jess instead. This isn't me having a problem with any particular iteration of my name, this is just asshole behavior! I told you what my name was and you said 'no it isn't'. The problem here does not seem complex to me?
But within the last [hand wiggle] handful of years I feel like it keeps getting weirder? Apparently my dad and grandma argued about it at my wedding rehearsal-- she, dramatically, insisting 'I don't care, her name is Jessica, I'm going to call her that ;n;' and my dad angrily defensive that no it isn't, I go by Jay, that should be respected. And I'm sitting here listening to my dad relay this in utter bewilderment like. Well dad I love the energy but I have never been bothered at all if grandma calls me Jessica. I have never even once asked her not to or complained to anyone that she does. But also this is the grandma who HAS called me Jay more often than not?? My mom's mom never picked it up, but I was astonished to hear my dad's mom was acting like this was some New Dramatic Change that she Hated and not a thing she's literally already been doing for, again, twenty entire years. Why are you suddenly making it weird! Last weekend Justin's stepmom mentioned seeing my mom at the hospital where mom works, and how she said something like 'yes I'm Jessica's mom-- wait, no, Jay, she hates it when I do that' and I just?? I literally don't, the only problem now is that people who know me won't know who the fuck you're talking about
all of this and I'm just. I am literally just sitting here. why are we inventing problems out of this two decades later. what is going on
#I went by jess on purpose once in a college art class because there was a guy actually named jay#and I was like 'fuck this is why I dropped jessica in the first place' lmao#one time I put 'jay' on the preferred name line on medical intake paperwork and then when the doc was like 'jay?' I was like OH I hate that#oh no doctors Must Only use my paperwork name it turns out lmao#Justin's work friend calling me jess was so ??? you're not my MOM????#harvest moon awl has a 'what should I call you now that we're married' mechanic for I assume Darling or whatever#but one time I had my video game husband call me jess#justin also in real life has Jess Privilages but he doesn't want them because HE has only ever known me as jay#IT'S CONTEXTUAL. IT'S NOT THE NAME IT'S THE CONTEXT. IT'S THE RESPECT OR LACK THEREOF BEHIND WHAT NAME YOU USE#both my parents suddenly overcorrecting is weird but ultimately fine because the intention is clearly good#my grandma suddenly acting like it's a problem sets my teeth on edge. hey. this was never a problem before. what do YOU think this is about.#uhhh not to get. into it but. my dad is also almost definitely projecting baggage onto the situation that's got nothing to do with me#dad at christmas: it's just disrespectful! if someone tells you their name or their pronouns you don't get to decide they're wrong!!#me: I completely agree. not actually relevant to whether mom specifically calls me jess because that is in fact allowed but. I mean.#me: if you hypothetically told YOUR mom you go by something else now she SHOULD just use that instead. you're not wrong. hypothetically.#AAAANYWAY not to tangent on THAT too much#for ME having a nickname was so normal and it's only very abruptly been made weird by others and I'm baffled and annoyed about it#my mom's stepsister I see every handful of years: hi jess-- oh wait your mom said you go by jay now?#me: I've gone by jay since 2001 what is going ON--#I don't think it even occurred to me to wonder about Gender when it was mr hughes 'jess'ing me in high school but in retrospect I wonder#THE THING IS JAY ISN'T A MAN'S NAME TO ME. I MADE IT UP I DIDN'T KNOW IT HAD A GENDER. IT'S A GIRL'S NAME TO ME BECAUSE IT'S MY NAME!!#DON'T BE FUCKING WEIRD!!!#hhhuuaagh#I've talked about all this before but it came up again TWICE at christmas in ways that made me go STOP BEING WEIRD lmao#so it's on my mind again#about me
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#nowhere is safe#apartheid#save palestine#ethnic cleansing#israel is an apartheid state#seek truth#free palestine 🇵🇸#genocide#illegal occupation#israel is committing genocide#israeli war crimes#over 33000 dead#countless more remain “missing” only because their bodies are trapped under the rubble#no functioning hospitals#press targeted#al shifa medical complex#healthcare workers have targets on their backs#schools destroyed#every “safe zone” has been bombed#this was NEVER about Hamas#man made famine#gaza is a graveyard for children#aid workers murdered#israel is a terrorist state#israel lies while Palestine dies#propaganda kills#israeli lies#spread awareness#repost#the US is complicit in genocide war crimes and the starvation of countless innocent Palestinians
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"DO BETTER!" Says Now Televised Fanboy
He, Dash Baxter is a Phan-Stan!! It's kinda his thing. See, he's a fancy ass talk show host now. Married Paulie, moved out of Amity, actually DID something with his life. His parents? Did not approve. Long n short of it? He got kicked out.
Paulie's parents were PISSED.
Retaliated by giving him all the help he needed getting EVERY scholarship he qualified for. He went to a really nice college. Missed his girlfriend like mad. But she was off in Metropolis, terrifying weaker men. Conquering the fashion scene.
And SOMEHOW? Thanks to that long talk he had with Phantom (*incoherent fanboy gibbering noises* SO COOL!) he's worked to be... more of a LEADER, you know? Less of an asshole. Cause he's popular. People copy him. He can't be an asshole.
So, somehow, when he's punching out some try-hard that thinks he's hot shit for bullying a Nerd? He and the nerd get talking, right? Cause the guy got his glasses completely fucked up. And it's what Phantom would do.
But GET THIS? Guy's never HEARD of Phantom! Is super curious, cause he runs a small time Hero's show on the web. And, Dude? Is it your LUCKY DAY! Cause you just met THE number 1 fan of Phantom, hands down!! He makes his VERY spirited case, about why Phantom is THE best Hero to ever have lived. And this guy?
Entranced.
In AWE.
Just straight up BEGS him to join his show. Cause apparently? He was BORN for it. Which? Yeah. He HAS been giving speechs to the team for YEARS now. And Talking at fan meet ups. Leading fan meet ups. Hosting parties... actually, now that he thinks about it? He DOES do a lot of public speaking? Huh.
But still, he's about to say "no", when?
Dude mentions? He'll get to talk about Phantom.
SOLD!
It. Blows. Up. Absolutely EVERYONE is in love with his pretty face, hot bod, and STRONG opinions. But they ALSO have no idea who Phantom is! Paulie! This is CRIMINAL! Horrifying! What is going ON!?
Some bullshit information black out, apparently. At least according to her... friendly Nemesis? The Goth Dweeb. Who's engaged, apparently? So good for her. Unsurprisingly, it's too the OTHER Dweebs, but still. Bout time she started planning to drag them to a court house. She's the only one with any spine in that group! If she waited for THEM to propose?
Not even as Ghosts, man.
They'd get distracted by shiny nerd shit and whimp out.
Still... a world where NO ONE knows how Awesome, Phantom is? Not on HIS watch!
So he works it in. To every segment. It becomes "his thing". Oh? Super man saved a kitten from a tree? Cute. Well PHANTOM saved a bus full of Ghost Puppies from a shady, rouge, Goverment agency. Do BETTER, Superman!
The Flash, who is a cheap knock-off and stole his name, took down an Ice Villian? Adorable! PHANTOM stopped a Rouge WINTER SPIRIT with the help of YETI WARRIORS then assisted in giving FREE medical care for anyone who needed it! Here's a picture of him making GHOST ICE SNOWMEN for small children! Do BETTER, Knock-off!
What's THAT you say? Wonder Woman fought a GOD in down town paris?
Excellent work Wonder Woman. Flawless as always. But YOU, god-boy, are a disappointment! All that power! And WHAT do you use it for? Are you even supposed to BE here?? PHANTOM uses his power to HELP people! Is awesome and knows TONS of better gods! You're just salty you didn't make the cut!
DO BETTER!
And obviously? No one believes him. There's no record of this "Phantom" guy. The pictures look fantastical and vaguely glitchy/glowy. Not quite right. They GOTTA be photo shopped. Manipulated somehow. But? As a shtick? A fake "perfect Superhero" is kinda funny and unique.
And it's one hell of Fake Hero!
A Dead Champion? Who fights gods and monsters? Rouge agencies? Sassy and tragic? With a mysterious past? Pretty cool! There's even an Offical Comic from some guy that went to the same high-school as Baxter!
Of course, as Baxter get more and more popular? The "meme" hero, Phantom, get more well known? People get more interested in where Dash grew up. You know, just a bored Google. Maybe see if the hero was based off a local legend or something. But... huh...
The Town website?
Weirdly? Sanitized.
Like... like aggressively sanitized. All smooth edges and no details. Very "move along, citizen". Ha ha... it's part of the joke right? They get it! They'll just look up local restaurants or som-....
Wait...
Hey, guuuuys?
Are you finding ANYTHING?
And! Nothing. And I do mean NOTHING! Triggers the "oh? Secrets???" Instincts of a Hacker, like finding a hard blank wall of "KEEP OUT". Especially when it's somewhere it rightfully shouldn't BE.
All it would take? Is ONE person, of decent skills and an account on Certain Forums, getting bored enough to Google the Dude On The TV(TM)? For the GIW's lil walls to come crashing down. Because yeah, you can stop ONE hacker. Even two. Probably five or six.
But how about thousands?
Hundreds of thousands?
From every time zone. Competing. Just to see what you HAVE and don't want them to see. Maybe they do something with it, maybe they don't. But fuck it, you're being RUDE and now they're CURIOUS. And THEN? Oh. Oh holy shit.
Not a meme.
Very real.
Not a joke.
The walls come crumbling down, down, down. Ripped apart by hundreds of hands. Emails sent to every sort of agency. The JLU line inundated with emergency tips. Not a joke. Not A Joke. Holy Shit, IT WASN'T A JOKE!
Phantom is REAL!
And there, on TV, stands the Man. The signal FINALLY breaching containment. Fighting off the invading God of the week. Built like statue, hair like an aurora borealis of white fire held almost delicately in place by a CROWN of ice, a suit made of void and starlight. Inhuman. Beyond human.
Here to help.
A laugh that crackles like ice and the snap of winter, rolls through the air like coming storms, rich and somehow warm. A smile that bares teeth, yet turns so KIND when he looks upon humanity, as though we are precious and worth fighting for. A living star.
A... a once living star.
And in the center of it all? Wearing his BESPOKE, custome made, Number 1 Phan full body outfit? That's right. Dash Baxter. Ha! You fuckers doubted him! Behold his blorbo and WEEP, ya fuckin casuals! The BESTEST of boys! The FINEST of Heros! Superman? Could NEVER.
And now? The weather!
@babbling-babull @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter @ailithnight @hypewinter @hdgnj @mutable-manifestation
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A man is shot in the back in broad daylight. A man most people had never even heard the name of before his killing, but was the CEO of the most profitable health insurance provider in the entire world.
The media framed this as a tragedy, an unimaginable act, a heinous crime. We should grieve for the family left behind. All lives are precious, and murder is never okay.
The police have publicized their manhunt for the assassin. They update us every hour on how much closer they're getting, which isn't close at all.
Insurance companies are taking down their executive staff webpages and beefing up security. They know that they're no longer safe, and are hiring more protection.
The assassin took out this man like a professional, quickly fixing his gun when it jammed, executing an execution perfectly, then disappearing, leaving behind only a backpack full of Monopoly money, a few smolders on security cams, and bullet casings with the words "Deny", "Defend", and "Depose" written on them, echoing the "Deny, Delay, Defend" tactics taken by health insurance companies to refuse coverage.
Every single social media post I have seen, regardless of platform, has been supportive of the assassin. There has been no sympathy for the CEO, or his wife or children. We are not buying into the narrative the police and the media are trying to peddle. We are the ones who have had to deal with the bullshit health insurance and other corporations have been foisting on us for decades. And we've had enough.
We will not grieve. If anything, we encourage, and wait for the next CEO to be capped. We're not the ones in danger. The rich are the ones who have fought so hard for Americans to have easy access to guns and nothing else. For decades we have pleaded for gun control, to save children from getting mowed down by machine guns in their schools. For decades we have pleaded for a more humane healthcare system where people do not go into medical debt just in order to keep living.
The answer from the rich and powerful has been that life is not and never will be fair, and to be happy with the dogshit served to us.
Our answer now is equally and reflectively callous. We will not mourn a single dead CEO until we have some means of addressing our grievances that doesn't come from the muzzle of a gun.
The rich of today had better read up on the French Revolution and make some changes very quickly, or history will repeat itself.
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THE DOCTOR IS IN - SATORU GOJO
✴︎ summary: aka medical intern / doctor in training gojo. when you go to your annual check-up, you didn't think you'd be crushing on your doctor - or that he's conduct such an in-depth examination - in more than one way. ✴︎ contents: 18+, a lot of smut, implied cheating (but there's no cheating), improper use of a medical questioning and an exam room, improper use of a tongue depressor, panty sniffing, semi-exhibitionism (but not really), fingering (f!receiving), oral (f! receiving), semi-public sex, sex in an exam room ✴︎ wc: 2,573
It was just a checkup.
You sit, using your phone as you wait for the doctor, squirming on the uncomfortable exam paper drawn over the patient bed — so why were you so nervous?
And then there’s a knock at the door, and he walks in — but it’s not your usual doctor.
“Hi, it’s nice to meet you,” the white haired man grins widely, and you’re taken aback by how good he looks dressed in his white coat — if he had been your doctor before, you never would have missed a single one of your appointments, “My name is Satoru Gojo, and I’m a medical student that’ll be helping out today,” he offers his hand, and you take it, shaking his hand.
“It’s nice to meet you too,” you smile, introducing yourself by name, and he sits on the chair in front of you. Without his white coat and stethoscope around his neck, he could have looked more like a model than a medical student. You wouldn’t be surprised if he had been offered gigs modeling for his medical school’s brochures — hell, you were regretting not going to medical school right now.
He’s right down to business, crossing his leg over the other, “Do you mind if I ask you a few questions about you, what brings you here, and your personal and medical history?” he asks, clipboard and pen in hand, lips curling.
“Not at all, Doctor,”
“Call me Satoru,” he smiles, and you can’t help but smile back. And then he’s running through the usual list of questions — name, occupation, date of birth, smoking status, drugs, prescription list, and all the other questions medical providers need to ask patients, “and sexual history?”
You tilt your head, flushing, “Can you be more specific?”
And he’s leaning back, pen pausing in its scribbling, as he glances up to clarify, “Are you sexually active?”
You lick your dry lips, squirming under his gaze that suddenly feels heavier than before, “Yes, I am,” and he nods.
“Do you have a partner?”
You nod, “I have a boyfriend,”
His eyes rake over you discreetly, “Must be pretty handsome to date a woman like you,” he remarks, — did he always flirt with his patients? Because he certainly will have good patient retention at that rate.
“He’s also a little full of himself,” and you see a slight purse of his lips, as he raises an eyebrow, “but he’s very, very cute,”
“Oh is he? Good to know,” he sighs, pressing the top of the pen to his lips, drawing your eyes to his lips, “and how often do you engage in sexual activity?”
You have to pause before you answer — god, when were you going to move off this topic? “Pretty often, almost every day, usually,” you clear your throat, unable to meet his gaze, as he nods.
“And are you satisfied?”
And you raise an eyebrow, “is that relevant?”
“Oh, this is a physical, we like to be very thorough,” and you swallow thickly — well this was uncomfortable — but he only looked…almost amused, “Well?”
“Most of the time,” you shrug.
“Most of the time?” he repeats, placing his clipboard lower, clearly far too interested.
“My boyfriend has been pretty busy with work lately, it’s been pretty lonely,” your eyes finally finding his own, deep blues darkening a shade.
And his lips quirk, “Oh I see, I’m sorry to hear that, but I won’t be leaving you alone anytime soon,” he winks, and he’s rising to his feet, as he draws slower, “I think we can move onto the actual physical exam now,” and he’s pulling his stethoscope out as he draws near, kneeling instead of standing — because what else can you do beside a couch instead of a hospital bed — “I’m going to listen to your heartbeat,”
God, he smells good.
You try not to bite your lip at him — he was so pretty, up close even more so, his long snow white eyelashes fluttering and his perfect pink lips so kissable — but no, no, this was inappropriate. This was a doctor’s office.
And he’s putting the stethoscope in his ears, pressing the metal diaphragm to your chest, “Oh, your heart’s racing,” he murmurs, leaning in even closer, warm breath warming your skin, “wonder why that is — this may call for further examination,”
“Is this concerning?” and he’s tilting your chin up, far too close to your face.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart, you’re in good hands,” he’s moving the stethoscope to your back, pressing the metal end to listen to your lungs, “please take deep breaths for me,” and you do, biting your lip, as he leans against you as he moves the diaphragm to four different points, his chest brushing against your shoulder, “I see,” he murmurs, “have you been experiencing any aches or pains anywhere?”
You swallow, “My throat has been hurting a little,” and he nods, grabbing a tongue depressor.
“Let me take a look, now stick out your tongue and say ‘ah,’” and you do as he says as he presses the tongue depressor down, “good girl,” he murmurs, making your cheeks warm at his words — fuck.
His eyes scan your mouth, pressing against your tongue harder, “I don’t see anything unusual,” as he pulls the depressor back, skimming your tongue teasingly, but still, his face is so close to yours, and he notices your breath catching, “but I may need to do a closer examination if you…consent,”
“If I consent?” You ask slowly, his lips a breath away, and his thumb drags down your lips, “Satoru—“
“Do you consent?” And he’s leaning even closer, noses brushing, and you only can manage a nod, “use your words, Princess,”
“Yes, please,” and he only smirks, as his lips brush yours — so soft and teasing, his fingers cup along your jaw. He tastes of sugar and warmth, his tongue teasing your lips, until they part, dragging over your tongue, the very same he had just examined. He draws easy moans from you, one after another, before he pulls away, a string of spit connecting your lips.
“I didn’t see any issues, but I am concerned about your throat,” and he’s kissing a burning trail down your jaw to the hollow of your throat, “feels a little swollen here—“ and his teeth grazes the soft skin there, “it may need a closer look,” and he’s licking and sucking, dragging his tongue over your sweet skin.
And you’re nearly panting at this point, as he smiles at you, pressing another kiss to your lips, and you raise an eyebrow, “was that you checking again?” And he laughs, lips curling, as his fingers slide to the small of your back.
“You can be too sure,” and he’s kissing you again, and he doesn’t miss the way your thighs press together, “think the problem may lie elsewhere,” and his hands drag down your sides before finding your thighs, and you gasp, as he parts them, your fingers pressing into your soft flesh, “feels very warm here, and almost irritated — it may be an infection,” he hums, as his thumbs toy with the waistband of your shorts, “I may need to get a closer look,”
“Satoru—” you whine, and pulling at your shorts now, and he’s looking up at you with lidded, lustful eyes.
“Would the patient like some help removing her clothes for the examination?” and you only can manage a nod, and he accepts it this time, pulling your shorts down, “don’t worry, I’m a medical professional, I know just what treatments are acceptable in cases such as these,” and your shorts pool around your ankles, before you’re kicking them off.
And his eyes linger on the damp, dark patch on your underwear, “oh? I see the problem,” you gasp as he presses his thumb against your puffy clit through the thin fabric, “it’s so swollen, so warm — I’m going to have to do a very thorough exam of this area,” and he’s snapping the fabric against your skin, making your squirm, “so sensitive,” he hums as he tugs down your underwear, sniffing your panties, before pocketing them, “a sample, I’ll keep it for further testing,” he winks, before he unbuttons his cuffs, rolling up the sleeves of his light blue button up.
His eyes darken as his eyes rake over your exposed cunt, “are you ready to begin?” And he waits for your nod, before his fingers part your messy folds, as his arms pin your thighs in place, “so wet, do you hear that, sweetheart?” And his finger sinks into your needy pussy, squelching, “practically swallowing me in,” he grunts, licking his lips, “gonna need to probe a little deeper,” and a second finger is joining the first, fucking you open in earnest, as he pulls another moan from your lips, “s’good for me, but still I can’t figure out what’s wrong, maybe I just need to inspect this area further,” his hands sliding your thighs over his shoulders, pressing a languid kiss to your inner thigh.
And then his lips brush against your clit, making you squirm, his tongue darting out to drag lazy circles around it. God, you were so close, “don’t be so loud, there are other patients who might hear you — they might wonder what kind of exam I’m doing,” and you’re holding back your cries, biting your bottom lip. as his fingers and tongue bully your insides, “so tight, think I need to loosen you up before the final test,”
“I’m, ngh, close—“ and his lips close over your clit, sucking hard, and that’s enough for you to fall over the edge. You’re moaning, walls twitching around his fingers, your thighs, as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm, lapping up every bit of your release. Your cunt twitches as you come down from your pleasure high, as you look down at him with half lidded eyes, gaze deep and dark, laced with lust as you watch him lick your release from his lips and chin.
“Such a good baby, you did so good,” he’s pressing sweet kisses to your neck and face, until he’s letting you taste yourself on his lips, swallowing your moans eagerly, “haven’t even figured out what’s wrong and look at the state you’re in now,” he tsks, as he rubs the length of your cheek with his thumb, before kissing your jaw, “we still have more work to do,” as he eases your quivering legs off his shoulders.
And he’s undoing his belt, the clink of the buckle drawing your eyes to his thighs, as he tugs down his slacks and boxers, as it slaps against your stomach. Your lips part at the sight of him, thick and long — a white head of precum, dripping from the engorged tip.
Fuck, he’s huge, and he chuckles at your expression, “Like what you see, sweetheart?” As he drags his weeping erection along your sensitive pussy, “so messy, gonna have to see what’s going on inside, I have a feeling it’s very deep,” his fingers lift one of your legs over his shoulder, “are you ready?”
And you’re nodding, “please, I need—“ and he’s parting your folds, past that delicious ring of muscle, kissing the deepest part of you with his tip, as your lips part in a groan, “Toru—“
“That’s it, s’good for me,” he’s grunting, as he pulls out only to slam back in, “best little patient, aren’t you? With your perfect princess cunt, made just for me,”
“Figure out the — ngh — the problem yet?” You tease.
He only grins, as he gives a nasty thrust of his hips, wiping all sense from your head, “Filthy case of pretty Princess cunt — PPC — and it’s a particularly bad one,” he’s slowing down to stretch out the wet squelch of your cunt, “hear that? It’s the sound of your pussy latching onto me, practically strangling my cock,” and he’s picking up speed, as he lifts your other leg over his shoulder and — fuck how is he going deeper?
“Gonna come in for all your appointments and let me fuck you, right? Gonna fill you right, you have just what you need, the perfect medicine is this dick in this cunt, and the prescription is for every day, sweetheart,” he’s pistoning in and out of you, “pretty baby keeps pulling me back in, it may be incurable,” but he’s only fucking you harder, “but I’m going to try.”
The hospital bed is certainly ruined by now, from the creaks and groans it’s giving, it’s nearly as close to breaking as you are. Just a little deeper, a little more.
“Taking me so well, such a good girl,” his cock is twitching inside you, “fuck, s’good f’me, just for me,”
“Toru, ‘m close,” and his hips are stuttering, as he groans your name.
“Cum f’me, sweetheart,” and you do — your orgasm has you gripping him tight, as he continues to fuck you through it, rough thrusts that has you moaning far too loud, “close, gonna cum—where—“
“Inside, please,” and your eyes find his, lust blown out, as your hips grind against his, “I need my medicine,”
And he only groans in reply, sinking his cock as deep as he can before cumming, his warm seed filling you up, as his hips jerk against yours once, twice, before he’s easing your legs down, to lay on top of you.
Both of your heavy pants fill the room, as his face rests nestled in your chest, his lips pressing sweet kisses to the skin, “I am definitely not helping you sanitize this room, Toru,”
He pouts, “Oh c’mon it’s half of your mess, most of your mess — you were soaking me—“
“I did you a favor by coming to help you practice conducting an intake and diagnosing a patient, I’m not cleaning up this mess too,” you sigh, as he relents, leaning up to kiss your lips.
“Well you did cum a lot I’ll give you that,” and you push his face away, but he only drags his tongue up your fingers. You flush, “you’re the worst doctor,” you grumble.
“But I’m your favorite one, after all,” he grins, easing himself out, as you gasp, watching your mixed releases leak from your cunt, “I’m the only one who can give you your medicine.”
A few hours before….
“C’mon, baby, I need to practice,” your boyfriend curled his arms around you, burying his face in your neck, trying to pull your attention from the book your nose was buried in currently, “i need to practice,”
“I don’t think practicing is what’s on your mind right now, Toru,” you roll your eyes as he presses wet kisses up your neck, “you’re being distracting,”
“You distract me just by existing,” he pouts, and you roll your eyes, “at least if I practice with you, I can do something,” and you can’t say no to him, could you?
“Fine but why can’t we practice here?” And he’s shrugging, only grinning in reply.
“I can get more into the mindset of a doctor at the clinic,” he’s holding up the key he had sweet talked out of the security guard, “it’s a chance for me to get some practical experience. No one else will be around. Just you and me. Please?”
“…fine,” you sigh, as he kisses you again, “but you’ll behave?”
“Promise,” he grins — but you knew Satoru Gojo never behaved - especially when it came to you.
✴︎ a/n: my sister's practice asking me medical questions for an intake finally came in handy.
✴︎ taglist: @mwtsxri, @buttercupmuffins, @sinnerstardoll, @ziieanna12, @capitana18girl, @musababy, @miacakess, @secretmoneybearvoid, @sincerelyyrosemary, @dazailover1900, @maybe-a-bi-witch, @mnare, @kiyoomis-side, @complexivelovely, @imjustmememe, @pandaluvr, @affendy86, @scarlet-kazuha, @peachedtv, @spooky-nanners, @runmeoverkth, @nicobicobee, @kvroshit, @superluver, @paperairplanescanfly, @professorweezy, @i-literally-cant-with-this, @sachirobabe, @aothotties, @naughteehee, @ohphi, @roanryan16, @happyface002, @starrylibras, @sxatorugojoswife, @unamilanesa, @lycheeclare, @oreo-bozado, @yeehawslap, @hidanleftoe, @reaperxdeath
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In 2014, the Gloucester county school board voted to ban Grimm, then 15, from using the boys’ bathrooms, even though he’d been living openly as a boy for months and using the restroom without incident. The policy turned deeply intimate facts of Grimm’s life into a media spectacle. With the ACLU, he sued to defend his rights to use facilities that matched his gender, launching a groundbreaking national case on bathroom access. Grimm became an LGBTQ+ icon, celebrated by Laverne Cox at the Grammys and interviewed by Whoopi Goldberg on The View. He eventually won a landmark federal decision asserting trans youth’s constitutional protections against discrimination. [...] And while Grimm became a civil rights trailblazer, the case did not secure him stability or financial security. The Pride parade invites have stopped coming, and like so many other marginalized trans people, Grimm has faced significant mental health challenges and struggles with poverty. He recently lost his housing, and is now facing homelessness. “I’m someone who has had worldwide visibility. I represent an outer crust of privilege most people will never see, and I cannot make ends meet no matter how hard I try,” he says. [...] Much of his family rejected him [after coming out], but many friends and teachers were supportive as he entered 10th grade as a boy and clearly more comfortable in his skin. He initially used a private nurse’s restroom, but it was inconveniently located; peers and staff noted his long bathroom breaks, leaving him alienated and humiliated. So the principal and guidance counselor agreed to let him use the boys’ restroom, and for two months, he had no issues. But gossip circulated outside school and on a community Facebook forum, where people posted vicious comments. Friends defending him online faced harassment. “It was the adults who made it a problem, because their mentality spread to their kids,” recalls Evelyn Hronec, another friend. “These were grown adults talking about a 16-year-old’s genitals. It was vile.” At school board meetings in 2014, speakers stood feet away from Grimm, misgendering him, asking questions about his body and transition, calling him names and demanding he be kept out of boys’ facilities in the name of “safety”. In one speech, Grimm pleaded for the opportunity to “use the restroom in peace”. When a man called him a “freak” and likened him to an animal, Deirdre lunged out of her seat, she recalls. “I was fighting for his life.” [...] In 2021, the supreme court allowed Grimm’s victory to stand, and the school board was ordered to pay $1.3m in attorney’s fees. Grimm, however, only got a symbolic $1. To secure damages, Grimm would’ve had to give the opposition’s lawyers access to his medical records to scrutinize the cause and extent of his emotional distress, a process he couldn’t stomach after years of fighting. The idea he’d have to prove his anguish was unbelievable to his mom, who can’t shake the memories of her son becoming suicidal. Grimm doesn’t regret moving on without damages. But he desperately could’ve used financial help – especially as the trauma of his childhood began to catch up with him.
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buried alive | S.R.
in which the BAU races against the clock to rescue you from a killer team
who? spencer reid x fem!BAU!reader
category: angsty
content warnings: kidnapping, case stuff (murder yk), suffocation, being buried alive, hospitals, blood, nausea, CPR, funerals, use of pet names, guns, and drugs. i think that's all.
word count: 2.9k
a/n: okay, so i've been reading so much spencer fanfic and i started writing it and yesterday i realized i have 20 fics written and they're doing no one any good just sitting on my computer. i decided to finally try posting one. i wrote fanfic in high school (so like seven years ago) but this is my first time writing for a TV show. i've also never really posted on tumblr so please bear with me while i try to figure out formatting. tysm for checking out my post.
part two part three
You walked into the conference room and dropped the file on the table, allowing it to land on the wood with a satisfying splat. “The unsub’s burying them alive,” you said, letting the rest of the team know the conclusion you had come to with the medical examiner. “The M.E. found metal shavings and satin threads under the nails of our last victim. The most common materials to make up a casket.”
“There’s no way someone could bury someone alive in a casket alone, we’ve got to be dealing with a team, at least three people,” Emily concluded, standing in front of the evidence board.
It was the team’s third day on a case in Nebraska, four women had been discovered dead. Asphyxiation by hypoxia. Carbon dioxide poisoning.
“Approximately 420 people in the United States die from accidental carbon dioxide poisoning every year,” Spencer said, grabbing the file off of the table and flipping through it, taking a few seconds to read through it.
Rossi looked over Reid’s shoulder to look at the file, “but there’s nothing accidental about these deaths. Who would have access to these caskets?”
You shook your head, placing a hand on the back of Spencer’s chair, “A funeral director seems most likely.” You looked around at the Omaha field office, different agents running about in an attempt to solve these very murders. “They’d have the most access, write it off as displays. It could be hard to match the materials since they’re so common.”
Hotch leaned over the table and pressed the conference phone, “What can I do you for?” Garcia’s bright voice rang through the speaker.
“Garcia, I need you to look into funeral homes within the comfort zone. Look for a director who’s ordered more caskets than they’ve had funerals. Find anything, nothing is too small.” He told her.
“Absolutely, I’ll hit you back when I’ve got something,” she said, hanging up the phone.
There ended up being four funeral homes in the unsub’s comfort zone, so the team split up. You went with two locals to a family-owned business, Garcia had sent you all of the files you’d need on the location. “It looks like the Varn family has been in the funeral business since the seventeenth century,” you read aloud to the two agents you were in the car with.
“Does it mean they’re more or less likely to be the killers if they’ve been in business for so long?” One of the agents asked you, a younger man named Harrison.
You pursed your lips as you continued to look over the files, ���I’m not seeing any glaringly obvious stressors before the murders started, but over the years I’ve learned that’s no reason to write someone off. Psychopaths can be tipped off by the slightest thing. Things none of us would bat an eye at.”
Harrison nodded in the passenger seat, looking over to his partner Jimmy, “You and your guy sure do make an interesting pair.”
“I’m going to take that as a compliment, so thank you.” You and Spencer never explicitly stated to the field office that you were dating, but you walked into the precinct this morning holding hands. The agents must have drawn their own conclusions.
The younger officer cleared his throat, “It is a compliment, ma’am. The two of you are very impressive, your whole team is.”
You smiled, “Thank you, Harrison.”
The funeral home was run by a mother and her two sons, you held up your credentials for the mother when you knocked on the door. “Are you Sheila Varn?” You asked her, raising your eyebrows.
“Yes, what’s this about?” She inquired. She didn’t really look the part of a serial killer, a middle-aged woman who was running her family business.
Pocketing your credentials, you spoke, “We’re investigating the recent murders in the area and we were wondering if you had samples of the materials your caskets are made out of. Might we be able to come in?” You asked, adding a charming smile for effect.
Something flashed across her face before she returned your smile, opening the door and welcoming the three of you inside. “Hold on, let me get my boys up here. They’re so much more versed in the goings on of the town than I am,” she said, opening the door and calling for her sons. Felix and Joss came up the stairs from the basement, now they definitely had the physique to load dead women into caskets and bury them alive.
“Why don’t you two men come with me? I’ll get you those samples,” Sheila said, motioning for the agents you were with to follow her. To your horror, they followed her around the corner. “Felix, Joss, show this young lady what you know,” she instructed.
You took a deep breath before you looked up at the two men.
They were tall, maybe Spencer’s height, but they were built like wrestlers. There was no way you could physically subdue them on your own.
You passed out before you even had the chance to pull your gun.
Hotch was in full Unit Chief mode, Spencer watched from the corner of the room as he separated people into groups and gave them specific instructions. JJ and Morgan walked into the precinct, “What’s going on?” JJ asked looking around the room.
“The Varn Family is the team; two agents were found drugged on the side of the road and when we went to the funeral home Y/N was missing. Her badge, gun, and phone were all there, covered in blood,” Spencer said morosely, watching as Hotch finished giving orders and called the rest of the team over.
Your picture was up on the evidence board with the word “missing” written in bold letters beneath it. All of your belongings had been put into evidence for the time being. “Reid?” Hotch said his name, causing his head to snap up. “Are you okay to keep working?”
Spencer nodded affirmatively, “Yes.”
“Good, I need you to estimate how much time we have, I want a clock on these screens,” he ordered.
Morgan turned to Reid, “What do you think she has, kid?”
“The tidal volume for the average adult is point five at rest. That ends up being about six liters per minute. The average casket is approximately 886 liters in total volume and the average volume of the human body is 66 liters, leaving 820 liters to be filled with air for her to breathe. If she’s been gone for half an hour already, I’d estimate she has less than five hours of breathable air left.” Spencer explained, doing all of the math in his head while Emily put a timer on the screen next to the evidence board.
After a moment, Hotch continued, “Rossi, JJ, go back to the funeral home. Tear it apart, there has to be something there we haven’t found yet. The rest of us will split the list of cemeteries in the comfort zone and search them.”
“That’s a lot of ground to cover, we don’t have anything else to go on?” Morgan asked, looking at the list of burial sites he had been handed.
Hotch looked at Spencer, but Spencer stayed silent. “That’s all we have right now,” Hotch responded, “hopefully we’ll come across leads as we go.”
It smelled like a garden around you. The memory reminded you of spring with your mother, tending to the vegetable garden.
The only difference was that instead of the sun beaming down on you, it was pitch black. The space surrounding you was so dark that you weren’t totally sure your eyes were open.
Your head was throbbing just above your right temple, and you observed your surroundings. Slowly, you lifted your arm until it hit a ceiling.
Not a ceiling. A lid. You were in a casket. You pressed one hand to your chest and tried to slow your breathing. Chances were that the casket was already buried beneath the surface of the earth, trying to open it could be catastrophic. You patted the pockets of your jeans, only to find your phone missing, so the team wouldn’t be able to trace the location.
Even if you had it, there likely wouldn’t be service six feet under.
Your team would find you. They had to find you.
They found Spencer, they found Emily, and they would find you.
Spencer shifted in the passenger seat of the SUV, “You know, carbon dioxide poisoning is a rather peaceful way to die.”
“Reid,” Morgan said, turning the vehicle onto the main road, they had just finished scouring over another cemetery with still no sign of you.
He sighed and stared at his hands, “No, it’s good. We see so many people killed in so many different ways that it’s good that she won’t be in pain when she runs out of air.” He tried to convince himself.
Morgan cleared his throat, “We aren’t out of time yet, kid. We can still find her. Y/N’s smart, I’m sure she found a way to make more air or something.”
But they were running out of time, less than an hour remained on the timer set on all of their phones.
They pulled into the next cemetery, “There’s some fresh dirt over there, what are the names on the graves of people who were actually recently buried?”
Spencer starts to recite the names, and the two of them start to comb through the cemetery.
You had done enough research on this case to understand what was going on. The light-headed feeling had started not long ago, but now you felt like you were spinning, despite the knowledge that you were stuck in place.
It was a high. Not unlike the good kids high. Except instead of trying to chase a feeling, you were dying.
The timer went off when they were still scouring graves, shovels in hand. Derek stopped in his tracks, but Spencer kept going.
“Wait,” Spencer called out, reading the name on the card next to the fresh grave he was standing at, he moved to start digging. “Essie Dunbar was a thirty-year-old woman who was mistakenly buried alive in 1915,” he said, digging. “This has to be it.”
Derek called Hotch, putting the call on speakerphone so he could help Spencer dig. “Hotch, we got her, but she’s buried.”
“We’re on our way, Omaha police have one of the brothers in custody,” Hotch told Emily to have an ambulance dispatched.
What Reid knew that Derek didn’t was that it could take four hours to dig a grave by hand. The soil had been overturned, so maybe call it three. Your odds were still negligible. He didn’t stop, he didn’t stop when a caretaker came running at them, and he didn’t stop when Derek told him to get his digging equipment out here now.
Derek flashed his FBI badge to get what they needed. He had to physically pull Spencer back from the grave so the backhoe could dig, only going until there was less than a foot between them and the casket.
Spencer crudely attached a chain to the casket and the caretaker's vehicle. Carefully, the caretaker dragged the white container out of the earth and up a slant they had dug. It was locked shut, “Reid, move,” Derek ordered.
He leaned back and Derek fired at the lock, taking it off and opening the casket. Spencer gasped, there was blood on the side of your head, dried and raked through your hair. He was vaguely aware of Hotch and Emily arriving as they pulled you out of your satin prison. You had no pulse, but you were still warm. Immediately, Spencer started CPR.
“Reid let me do it,” Derek insisted.
What he was trying to say is that he shouldn’t have to be the one to try to save your life.
Morgan repeated himself and Spencer pulled away, allowing the other agent to immediately take over. There was a siren in the background, an ambulance. More people showed up, Spencer heard their voices, but he just kept watching you. CPR was effective if it was done shortly after your heart stopped, and even then, permanent brain damage was likely.
It had been eight minutes since they pulled you out of the ground. Clinically, you were dead for eight minutes before you gasped.
Spencer smoothed your hair back, away from your face, while you desperately tried to catch your breath. You weren’t moving, and Spencer started running through symptoms of hypoxia. His biggest fear was brain damage, that they had done more harm to you in bringing you back than they would have had you died.
The EMTs came running over to where everyone had gathered, dispersing the crowd, and placing an oxygen mask over your face. As they were loading you on the stretcher, you started trying to talk, reaching your arm out to your side. “Wait, what’s she saying?” JJ asked.
“Sometimes it’s hard to talk after CPR,” the male EMT said as they moved you closer to the ambulance. He listened to what you were saying, “It’s not coherent.”
Spencer didn’t move, all of the adrenaline that had been coursing through his body all day was leaving.
Aphasia. They were saying the lack of oxygen to your brain was causing aphasia. “No,” Emily said, realization dawning on her features as she strained to listen to you. You were whispering, rasping the same word over and over again. “She’s saying ‘Spence.’”
He stood quickly and looked at you, sure enough, you were reaching out your hand and whispering, “Spence, Spence.” Your voice no more than a whisper.
Grabbing your hand, Spencer squeezed it, “I’m here,” he answered. “It’s okay, it’s over,” he told you, moving your hair out of your face. Spencer secured your oxygen mask over your face as you tried to take it off, “You have to keep this on, angel.”
To his relief, you squeezed his hand back.
You had been instructed to get some rest, but you couldn’t close your eyes. You asked Spencer to go back to the hotel and change his clothes because he smelled like dirt, and it made you nauseous. Your head had been bandaged, you’d been run through an MRI, and you did an EEG, so far, the only brain damage that had been incurred seemed temporary.
According to the doctors, the nausea and fatigue should wear off, but they hadn’t been able to fully assess if any permanent damage was done. At this point, the worst of your injuries had been caused by being given CPR, resulting in cracked ribs.
Despite your headache, you kept most of the lights on in your hospital room, not quite ready to be left in the darkness again. “Hey,” a voice called from your doorway, Spencer stood, waiting to be invited in. He was wearing different clothes, a button-up with a green cardigan thrown over it, and clean pants. “How are you feeling?”
A nasal cannula slightly restricted your movement, but you were sat up in the hospital bed, “Better than I was, but not perfect.”
He shook his head, walking in and taking a seat next to you, “No one expects you to be perfect right now.” Gently, he reached out and took your hand, skimming the pad of his thumb over your knuckles. “They found the mother and the other son, and all three of them are going to go away for a long time,” he told you, speaking in the kind of hushed, reverent tones that are reserved for hospitals.
You sighed and tilted your head back, “Good,” you maundered. “That’s uh, good,” your voice was barely audible.
“So why do you look so worried?” He asked, leaning in closer to you.
In an attempt to dismiss his concern, you joked, “I think I owe Morgan some sort of life debt now.”
Spencer offered you a soft smile, “The two of you tend to trade those off, I’m sure you’ll find some way to make it up to him.” He inclined his head towards you as if to silently say, So what is it really?
You swallowed thickly, “I’m scared to close my eyes, Spence.”
His shoulders dropped, “oh, Angel,” he breathed. “Is there anything I can do for you?” He asked, looping a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. “Wait, what are you doing?” He asked, watching you as you lifted yourself, so you were on one side of the bed.
Shyly, you patted the new empty half of the bed, inviting him to sit next to you.
He had no choice but to comply, he had the hardest time saying no to you. Leaning the bed back slightly, Spencer kicked off his shoes before he laid down next to you, wrapping an arm around you as you set your cheek on his shoulder.
Your body relaxed into his and you sighed, “Spence?” You murmured.
He pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, “Yes, angel?” He whispered back to you.
“Thanks for coming to save me,” you mumbled, slowly relaxing enough to fall asleep.
Spencer exhaled, “I’m always going to come to save you.”
part two
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#aaron hotchner#emily prentiss#jennifer jareau#derek morgan#penelope garcia#spencer reid fanfic#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid angst#spencer reid hurt/comfort#spencer reid x you#h writes (hypothetically)
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Could you please write an imagine based on the episode where Greg House gives a lecture about the three cases and he's one of them (where we first see Stacy).
Reader is one of the students there, gives the correct answers, therefore grabs his attention and he offers a job and they end up dating
Thanks in advance!
chasing you ✩ gregory house
“What color is your pee?”
You watched House interrogate one of the few students that had been giving input on his three stories.
“Yellow,” she replied with a sharp tone.
“And what color is your blood?”
“Red.”
House nodded. “Yes. And what colors did I use to make this tea color?”
The female student stammers as she replies with “red, yellow, and brown.”
The man clicks his tongue. “And brown. How do we get the brown color?”
“Waste-“
“Thank means the kidneys are shutting down,” House cut in. “Why?”
“Could be damage done by the self injection. He has no history of trauma.
“Treatment?”
House’s rapidfire questions had rattled the woman, but she stiller answered. “Heat and rest-“
“Other possible causes?”
“Infection.”
House nodded. “Start him on antibiotics. What else?”
Silence filled the room. House looked around, expecting an answer. “Come on! What is it?”
“I-I don’t know,” the student admits. She looks away.
House sighs and walks down the steps. The paper with the tea color crumpled in his hand.
“You know, it’s hard to think with you in our faces,” starts the annoying student right up front.
“Yeah?” House scoffs. “You think it’s gonna be any easier with a real patient really dying?”
The guy looked down. Once again, silence reigned over the room as House prepared himself to speak. Until… you opened your mouth.
“The unknown factor would be muscle death.”
House looks up. Near the back of the auditorium by the window on the far left. A student House originally thought was uninterested. Sure, House had seen you around the hospital- practically every wide-eyed intern or student had met the witty man but he had never spoken to you.
Which was odd considering he took a little joy in making the interns and students squirm- especially the pretty ones. House was surprised he’d never even caught your name.
When House’s mouth opened and closed twice, you resumed carefully. “The dying muscle leaks myoglobin which is toxic to the kidneys. There’s your brown, Doctor.”
“Brilliant,” House murmured. He eyed you carefully as he went on. “MRI the leg. See what’s killing it.”
The Heath Ledger dupe spoke up again. “Why is the girl getting the MRI?”
“Because the neck skan revealed nothing and her doctor’s way more obsessive than she thinks she is.”
Heath tilted his head. “But you said the guy needed the MRI.”
“Because the mysteriously smart girl over there said muscle death. Not one of you came up with that. Not one of this guy’s doctors came up with it either,” he replied harshly. “They gave him bed rest and antibiotics- just like you guys would’ve.”
“Does he get better?” The female student from before asked.
House clicks his tongue. “No.”
“How long-“
“Three days.” He looks around the room, stalling when he made eye contact with you. “It is in the nature of medicine that you’re going to screw up. You are going to kill someone. If you can’t handle that reality, pick a new profession. Or finish medical school and teach.”
The female student from before spoke up. “It took three days for them to figure out about the muscle death?”
House shook his head. After heaving a sigh he answers “No, it took three days for the patient to suggest muscle death.”
“What caused the muscle pain?” You asked. “Was it- was it a clot?”
House nodded. “Don’t steal my thunder, young padawan. But… yes. A clotted aneurysm lead to an infarction in the patient’s leg.”
You nodded as House examined you intently as he went on. “After the surgery to remove the clot, the patient went in to wide complex tachycardia… The patient was technically dead for over a minute.”
“Do you think he was dead? Do you think those experiences were real?”
Every head in the room turned to the back. There stood James Wilson, leaning on the door. He looked knowingly at House, like he knew something everyone didn’t.
“Define real,” House shot back. “They were re experiences… What they meant- personally, I choose to believe that the white light people sometimes see, visions this patient saw… They’re all just chemical reactions that happen when the brain shuts down.”
“You ‘choose’ to believe that?” You ask curiously.
House’s eyes dart back over to you. “There’s no conclusive science. My choice has no practical relevance to my life,” he replies. As he starts to pace slowly around the front of the room, he proceeds. “I choose the outcome I find more comforting.”
“You find it comforting to believe that this is it?” Wilson asks accusingly.
House blinks. “I find it more comforting to believe that this isn’t simply a test.”
Everyone sat, listening closely to House’s every word. No other sounds could be heard despite House’s cane movement. He explained how, once the patient was put into a medically induced coma, his trusted proxy had made the decision to remove the dead muscle from his leg.
“Because of the extent of the muscle removed, the utility of the patient’s leg was severely compromised,” he told everyone slowly. “Because of the time delay in making the diagnosis, the patient continues to suffer chronic pain.” He tilted his head up to look at the crowd in front of him and then dropped his head to look at his hands.
“She had no right to do that,” piped up a different female student.
Heath Ledger look-alike scoffed. “She had the proxy.”
The woman argued back, “She knew he didn’t want the surgery!”
“Well, she saved his life,” Heath Ledger responded.
“We don’t know that,” the guy in the front row cut in. “Maybe he would’ve been fine.”
“Still, it’s the patient’s call!”
Heath Ledger shrugged. “Patient’s an idiot.”
“They usually are,” House agreed. “Do you have a buzzer? What time does this class end?”
This time, a mew voice answered House’s question. “20 minutes ago.”
For a moment, House looked at Cuddy with an unreadable expression. Then he clicked his tongue and stood up. “I’m not doing this again,” he informed Cuddy. “And this guy is not the world’s greatest dad- not even ranked. Who the hell let’s their kids play with lead based paint? That’s why he’s always sick. Find him some plastic cups and the class is all his again,” he told Cuddy, placing the yellow hand-painted mug in her hands. He started to walk out, but paused and hobbled back to point his cane directly at you. “Except you. Come with me.”
With haste, you gathered you books and writing utensils and shoved them into your bag. As you followed the limping man out of the classroom, you felt everyone’s eyes on you.
“I have a job for you if you want it,” House tell you finally, stopping in front of a door. “It’s tough, people lie to you every day, and we don’t even have decent coffee.”
You look from him to the door that reads ‘Gregory House M.D. - Head of Diagnostic Medicine’. “I have literally spoken to you three times. How do you know I won’t accept the job, wait until you trust me, and then steal all your money and leave?”
House paused. “Good question. Will you accept the job, wait until I trust you, and then steal all my money and leave?”
“Probably not,” you reply.
“Great!” House exclaims. “You’re hired.”
Over the course of the next few month, you had clicked immediately with Chase. You spoke passionately about different types of literature with Cameron, and joked with Foreman about anything and everything.
Your relationship with House was complicated to say the least. During your first official case, House insisted he followed you everywhere. You more than understood his hesitance to let you do tests completely on your own. But when he limped around, tracking you like a damn dog… you wondered why he still hadn’t trusted you enough.
To your fortune, Wilson had cornered you in the cafeteria as you were getting lunch. “We need to talk,” he had said before plopping down next to you.
You paused, looking up from your cafeteria spaghetti. “About what?”
“House.”
Your eyebrows furrowed. “Why?”
Wilson looked at you with an expectant expression. “Because I want to know what you said. Duh.”
“I think I’m missing something,” you told him. “What was I supposed to say to him? What was he supposed to say to me?”
Wilson dropped his silverware. “Are you serious? He didn’t- You don’t- What?”
“I’m lost here, Wilson,” you tell him.
Wilson looks around suspiciously before licking his lips. “So… you know how the medical gala is coming up?”
Nodding, you shove a forkful of noodles in your mouth. “Chase won’t shut up about seeing ‘all the hot babes in tight dresses’ or something,” you inform Wilson.
After guffawing over your imitation of Chase’s accent, he gets serious. “It’s in a week. Are you sure he hasn’t talked to you?”
You throw your hands up and sigh. “Just spit it out already, Wilson. I feel like a high schooler trying to get my friends tell me who they have a cute little crush on. Tell me or I’m gonna pop a blood vessel!”
Wilson looks away. “I can’t. I’m scared of House.”
With that, he picks up his tray and goes to leave.
“Bye bye, Willie!” You call.
James turns and glares at you before walking out of the room. You chuckle and attempt to finish your meal before your beeper will inevitably go off.
You just start chowing down on the garlic bread (read: bread with butter and garlic) when you hear the dreaded beeping. You bite off a large chunk of the bread and dump your tray before reading the ‘MY OFFICE- EMERGENCY’ that was from House.
When you finally pushed open the door, you saw House facing the window outside.
“Is our patient with the living?” You ask, taking a step towards House.
House doesn’t turn around. “I need you to go to the winter gala thing with me.”
You stiffen up. Throughout your whole body, your muscles tighten as your freeze midstep. Your face drains of blood and your heart feels like it just dropped into your stomach and was dissolved by the acid. Bile had just started rising up your esophagus when House turns.
“Don’t look so excited,” he insists sarcastically. “But seriously. Why are you looking at me like I have a tumor growing out of my eyeball?”
“No,” you mutter raspily. “Take Cameron.”
House’s eyebrows furrow as you turn on your heel and start to leave.
“Why won’t you go with me?”
You gnaw deeply at your lip as you turn. To your surprise, House was standing- watching you leave without his cane in his hand. “Go with Cameron,” you say again. “I don’t- I’m- No. Just no.”
“Y/n, why-“
You practically run out the door before Greg can even say your name. He stands by his desk, staring intently at the ground where you just stood. “Hm,” he hums. He sighs and thinks about what to say to you next.
The next three days consist of House trying and failing to speak to you. To his own surprise, you have completely stopped talking about personal matters with him and have withdrawn any of your own opinions except for facts having to do with the patient.
House had just finished off another bottle of pills when Foreman barged into the room. “What did you say?”
House blinks. “Uhh… to who? Where? When?”
“To y/n, House. What did you say to y/n?”
“I told her that I needed her to go to the winter gala with me,” House answered truthfully. “Why? Has she said anything to you?”
Foreman flops down in the chair facing House. “Do you like her?”
“Well, I hired her, didn’t I?”
“That’s not what I mean and you know it, House,” Foreman snaps. “Answer me. Do you like her?”
A moment of silence fills the air. House thinks back to the first time he interacted with you- how confidently you completely the puzzle that certified doctor’s couldn’t figure out. How you had matched House’s wit on your very first day. How you- despite being babysat- had completed every test and blood swab and every challenge House had put in your way. How your face often spoke before you did, how House unconsciously searched for you in a crowd, how House looked for your input after almost anything is said, how House wants your company.
“No,” he answers. “Yes. Maybe. Why?”
Foreman looks at House like he’s stupid. “Because she likes you! How have you not figured that out?!”
“Uh, maybe because of the fact that she seemed to want to projectile vomit all over me and then sprinted out of the room? Sorry, I was too focused on the horror in her eyes to consider the fact that y/n really wants that enemies to lovers trope in real life,” House rambled.
“She thinks you’re gonna make a fool out of her, House, and I think you are too,” Foreman answers. He stares at House, searching for information he won’t get. “But… you’re less abrasive when she’s around.”
“You’re acting like she’s your precious little baby sister about to be wed to an evil ogre in the woods,” Greg mutters.
Nodding, Foreman quirked his eyebrows. “I feel like I am.”
House looks at Foreman for a long moment. “Why did you come here to tell me this?”
Eric heaves out a sigh heavy enough to know down an elephant. “Because she wants you to mean it. Y/n wants you to want her. To show her that you want her.”
“I see.”
Foreman nodded. “Don’t tell her I conversed with the enemy.”
Greg scoffed. “As if she’d voluntarily talk to me.”
Eric’s face turned sympathetic. “Just talk to her. Show her this isn’t some whim to- I don’t know, win a bet against Cuddy. Show her you feel the same.”
It was the day of the gala when House found you testing a patient’s blood. You whispered lyrics to a song Greg didn’t know as he stealthily approached you.
“Y/n.”
Your breath caught in your throat in a weird choking noise as you leapt back. “Christ, House!”
“Sorry,” House said with a very unapologetic tone. “I want to talk to you.”
“About what?” You ask plainly, looking through the low power lens of the microscope.
House leans on the table as you adjust the stage. “About… the dance. Tonight.”
You adjust the fine adjustment knob slowly, clicking your tongue unconciously. “What do you have to tell me?”
Greg looks around the lab awkwardly. He silently tried to encourage himself, mentally recalling the nights before, thinking about what to say to you. “I want to formally ask you to go to the gala with me.”
You stand at full height, facing him directly. House held his breath. He was so close to you, he thought he felt your breath on his face. “I don’t want to go. With you, Cameron, Chase, or Foreman. I don’t want to go.”
“Why?” House asked immediately.
You shake your head. “I’m-These things never go well for me House. Besides, you could just go with Cameron. I know she’s dying to go with you.”
House watches you watch him. “I don’t want to go to Cameron. I want to go with you,” he admits lowly.
“And why do you want to go with me?”
House pauses to see your eyes flicker from his eyes to his lips- so fast that he almost didn’t notice. “Because I don’t like her the way I like you.’’
You swallow. “How do you like me, House?”
“Like this,” he tells you before dropping his cane and grabbing your waist. Hearing no complaints from you, Greg pulls you close to him and brings his face close to yours. At this point, House swears his vision is blurred by how fast his heart his pumping. House’s hold on your waist is possessive, protective. He hesitates, hoping you won’t reject him now.
You- thankfully- understand the words House is trying to tell you through his eyes. You carefully let your hand cup the nape of House’s neck and pull his lips down to yours. A breathless moan escapes your lips as Greg pulls you flush against him.
House’s head- for once- is silent. And his leg doesn’t seem to hurt quite so bad with your hands on his body: feeling him like he’s only dreamt about before.
And then- when you do pull back- House keeps his grip on your waist as he looks you in the eyes. “I want to go to the gala with you. If you don’t have a dress, then we can just go home.”
Your flushed lips pull into a dazed smile. “How much cleavage do you want to see?”
House groans and lets his head fall back as his eyes close. “As long as I can take it off tonight and any other day I don’t care.”
“Is that- Are you- Are you hinting at commitment? Who are you and what have you done with Gregory House?”
House guffaws sarcastically. “Careful, there. I could get you fired.”
You just laugh. “Yeah, and have the others bicker like siblings and let patients almost die thrice before diagnosing them? I don’t think so.”
“You know, you have a pretty big ego for someone who hasn’t worked here for a full year, yet,” House chides.
Scoffing, you attempt to return to the blood you were looking at before House interrupted you. “First of all, you would know about egos. Second of all, I’m good. Cuddy has spoken to me… about other positions,” you tell him vaguely.
House is taken so off guard, his arms go limp. “What?”
“Nothing I accepted,” you answer, turning back to the microscope.
House just hums. “Good.”
You murmur a quiet ‘good’ in reply. “I know how to cure this guy,” you breathe quietly. With a growing smile, you take the slide off the stage and turn off the microscope before discarding the bio-waste.
House struggled to keep up with how fast you were walking, but your kiss had definitely left him chasing you- literally and figuratively.
#x reader#female reader#jules writes 📓🖊#gregory house md#gregory house x reader#gregory house#house x reader#house x you#house x wilson#house x cuddy#gregory house fluff#gregory house angst#greg#greg house#greg house x you#greg house x reader#house fluff
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↳ you know you’re better than this.
featuring — anya x gn! reader (mouthwashing)
no, i don’t write for mouthwashing, there’s just not any anya content.
cw: dark themes, mentions of sexual abuse, abuse, mentions of pregnancy, vomiting, blood, implications of suicide, character deaths, controlling behavior, triggering themes, angst, panic attack, reader is fresh out of medical school, barely hurt and comfort
6 weeks before the crash.
“ guess who~? “
you croon, playfully hovering your hands over the onyx haired woman’s eyes as you snuck up behind her in the med room. anya was standing in front of the sink, quietly washing her hands. a soft giggle rolls off her smiling lips, body language relaxed,
“ hmm, daisuke?”
you snicker, “ i didn’t know i was a silly boy.”
anya hums thoughtfully while the faucet still runs and her hands soaking wet. “ captain? “
“ yes it is i, the big softie blond with curls! “ you proclaimed, goofily deepening your voice to make the voice of the captain, curly. if curly was here, he definitely would of made fun of your half-baked impression of him. anya lets out a bubbly laugh that makes the corner of your lips curl upwards even more. you fight the urge to hug her from behind and squeeze her silly from how wondrous she is. to think you get to be on a space trip with the woman you love and admire deeply makes you wanna float through the endlessly sea of stars and wonder.
“ now that I guessed you right, can i finish washing my hands and greet my lover properly? “ anya asks in a jovial tone.
“ mhmm~ “ you removed your hands away from her eyes and backed off so she can finish washing her hands. it takes a few moments for anya to finish. she turns the faucet off, grabs a paper towel from the dispenser, and wipes her hands off. after throwing the crumbled paper towel in the small bin, she turns around to finally face you. despite her hues resembling a gloomy grey, they brighten as they drink you in. anya immediately seeks for you, wrapping her arms around your frame and gently brushes up against you. you gladly reciprocate the loving gesture, running a delicate up her back and let it rest on her upper back.
“ so, how’s evaluations going three months in? “ you asked, pressing a quick kiss to her brow, “ has the others evaluations been okay? no crazy confessions yet right? “ you inquired with a teasing voice. anya is far experienced in psychology than you are so you leave the evaluations to her. and because anya’s more outgoing and hands-on, you felt like anya’s more capable of taking on medic role. you were luckily squeezed on this ship as a last minute intern similar to daisuke for the experience. six people on a four-man ship is so far quite the experience. you try not to get in the way of the others and besides anya, you mostly interact with curly and daisuke.
anya pauses, recalling her memories from the monthly evaluations.
“ hm. .—oh! daisuke. .a very bright and funny boy that really puts himself out there. he inspires me to be more optimistic. ugh, he’s also disgustingly lucky when it comes to those board games we play. “ her lips ball up in a cute pout, you laugh, “
“ stop saying he’s lucky, anya. you’re just being a sore loser. just accept that he’s better than you at board games! “
anya playfully rolls her eyes, “ oh hush. don’t tell me you’re on his side. “
you smirked, “ i’m on your side, beautiful—buttt i’m still gonna hand you the truth. lovingly. “
anya tells you about the other three evaluations, curly, swansea, and jimmy. her voice is light-hearted when she talks about curly. she describes him as being kind but a bit reserved. he never talks much about himself. everyone has their own story and perhaps even some like him chooses to not tell his as it’s locked away behind the fleshy walls of his bleeding heart. when anya got to swansea, her tone is the same but it’s dampens a bit; melancholic. she describes the crude mechanic as a man who’s been through a lot in life and still lives on despite his struggles. despite how rough he acts, there’s something about him that makes you feel sorry for him. there’s a sort of loneliness that clings to him like the fresh scent of dry balls after drying your clothes in a dryer. however, you can tell that daisuke’s light is smearing onto the much older man’s demeanor. he’s a little more livelier, although very rough on the edges—swansea expresses his care for daisuke in a tough love kinda way.
when anya finally gets to the gruff brunette man, the atmosphere shifts. her words holds a certain weight to them that makes you feel slightly uncomfortable. her voice is meek and reluctant as she talks about his recent evaluation. you pick up on anya’s careful wording and brief pauses during it. she rests her cheek against your shoulder, holding you visibly tighter as if she’s trying to ground herself through you. anya says that he doesn’t really take his evaluation seriously and makes particularly sarcastic comments at her. great. you don’t like jimmy because there’s something about him that rubs you the wrong way. was it that permanent mean look on his face? that judgmental look in his hooded, brown eyes whenever he passes by you in the hallways? what could have you possibly done to him to make him look at you like that? you don’t really talk to him and care more for curly. he is the leader and main pilot after all.
“ . .if he’s making you uncomfortable, i can do his evaluations for you. psychological evaluations require a one on one session and i can do it while you’re outside of the door.” you mutter, rubbing loose circles into anya’s back.
your lover stays silent for a moment. “ . . .no, i can handle it. but, you standing behind the door instead puts me a little more at ease though, haha. “
“ of course. anya, look at me. “ and she does, pulling her head away to peer at you with those pretty, upturned eyes of hers. a tender palm cups her cheek. anya’s skin feels warm and soft to the touch. “ if anything happens, you’ll tell me right? i may only be the intern but i will absolutely raise hell for you. “
anya smiles at you warmly at you, grayish eyes twinkling with endearment. she leans in and kisses your lips. “ i prefer that you not to because i’d hate for you to get booted into space by the crew. “ she remarks jokingly in between brief kisses.
“ hmm. “ you bring your lips to the bridge of her nose, under the tender flesh of her eye, everywhere until she’s a smiling mess. “ we’ll have to see about that. “
5 weeks before the crash.
restless, you exhale as you blankly stare at the white ceiling. due to anya’s head laying on your chest and her body nuzzled against your side, you can hardly change positions or get up, really. you don’t want to wake her up either.
“ can’t sleep? “ she whispers out gently, her hand that was intertwined with yours, lightly squeezed.
“ mmm, not really. did i wake you up with my defeated sighs, anya? “
“ . . kinda. but i’m use to this by now since this is a habit you like to do when you can’t sleep, (name).”you can hear the fond smile in her voice. after two years of dating, anya’s able to read and soak up your habits. she’s so attentive to your mannerisms, knows when you’re apprehensive by the twitching of your fingers and eyes. she knows when you’re happy, sad—it’s quite ridiculous how could someone so knowledgeable like her is struggling to get accepted to med school several times while it only took you once to get in. you’re not a registered nurse prior to getting into med school or anything like that. yes, you worked really hard—but lets admit it; you were just simply lucky to get in. lucky and currently hundred thousand dollars in debt after finishing.
“ i’ll let you sleep. i think i will just sneak into med bay to finish reading the social animal. i wanna be good at psychology as my awesome, future wife is.” you asked, pressing a chaste kiss on her temple.
anya laughs sleepily, “ oh, stop it. you’re not going to fall asleep in there, are you? “
“ of course not! i’ll come back to you once i’m feeling tired. but, if you miss me or have a nightmare, you know where to find me~ “
she removes her head off your chest and breaks away from you with a soft pout. “ i suppose so. “
you get up from the bed and dipped down to kiss the tip of her pretty roman nose. “ buh bye for now, beautiful. ” you coo, adjusting the blanket back over her body.
“ see you, hun. “
you slip on your slippers and walked out of your shared cabin. besides the sound of the low humming noise of the ship, silence fills the void of the still atmosphere. it’s surprisingly chilly as you exit the sleeping quarters and walk through the narrow-like hallways to medical. your footsteps softly bounces throughout the metal walls and your distorted shadow follows behinds you. there’s a churning feeling in your gut as you walk and walk. was it really okay to skip off to medical at the middle of “night” just to read? wouldn’t it have suffice to simply stay and talk to anya until you were able to fall asleep?
your eye twitch and your fingers curl ever so slightly.
should you just go back to her?
“ hey, you’re still “up.”
a rough voice calls out, ripping you away from your thoughts. you stop walking. your eyes wander over to the source and a shiver runs down your spine. jimmy, still in his jumpsuit, stands by the hallway leading to the cockpit. there’s a sense of uneasiness in the air as his quiet gaze lingers on you, waiting for your response.
“ yeah, can’t sleep. “ you say in a deadpan voice, “ what about you? “
jimmy runs his fingers through his tousled chocolate locks before shrugging. “ same as you. but i’m just taking a aimless stroll. where you headin’ to? “
none of your business.
“ medical. “
there’s something in his eyes that visibly changes; a taunting glint that has you side-eyeing him. a corner of his thin lips curl into a subtle, smug smirk.
“ you’re a little ways to go, dr. intern. “
you roll your eyes and start walking pass him, “ i know. at least i know where to go, mr. co pilot. “
jimmy clicks his tongue behind you, muttering something under his breath before his footsteps become distant in your ears. you turn your head, throwing a quick glance over your shoulder. you see his tall silhouette walking down the direction towards the sleeping quarters. “ smug fuck, i hope you sleep like shit tonight. “ you murmur, trying your best to ignore the sinking feeling in your tummy.
with a tired sigh, you slumped in the chair, turning one of many pages you gone through. the ticking clock in the background occasionally hits your ears as your fingers lazily drum against the pristine white surface of the desk. your droopy (e/c) eyes skim across a quote that leaves the remainder of your conscious mind wondering.
reason and emotion are not separate and opposed. reason is nestled upon emotion and dependent upon it. emotion assigns value to things, and reason can only make choices on the basis of those valuations. the human mind can be pragmatic because deep down it is romantic.
“is it wrong to use only reasoning to make a decision devoid of emotion . .? or is it actually wrong to let your emotions influence your decisions and reasoning? ” you sleepily muse to yourself.
oh, being human is so complicated.
your head perk up at the medbay door sliding open. surprise is written all over your face once you see a seemingly shaken up anya walking inside. her arms are tucked to her chest, hands clutching her elbows.“ anya? it’s only been. .two hours? you had a nightmare already? “ you asked worriedly, standing up from the desk to make your way over to her.
“ i. .y-yes, it was t-terrible. .” anya whispers in a quivering voice. her head is down, avoiding eye contact. you try to grasp her elbow and lure her into your arms but she violently flinches from your touch.
pulling away quickly, your face contorts into a look of worry. “ baby? “
teary-eyed, anya quickly lifts up her head, mustering a shaky smile. “ oh dear, i-i’m sorry. i-i’m just still quite shaken up from the nightmare, h-haha. i need a minute or so to recoup myself. can i stay here with you? “ anya sometimes get nightmares but it was only due to stress. she never had a nightmare that got her like this.
“ . .of course. you don’t even have to ask. here, you can sit on one of those beds. “ carefully, you ghost your hand over the small of her back as you guide her to a bed. she quietly sits down with a soft sniffle and you follow suit. your heart squeezes at the sound of her soft hiccups and the sight of her head down. you can hardly see her face due to her saber strands hanging down. “ can. .is it safe for me to have my arm around you? “
she meekly bobs her head and you delicately curl an arm around her, taking note of her body momentarily stiffening up before gradually relaxing. “ do you want to talk about your nightmare? “
it takes her a moment to reply. “ . . no. i don’t really remember much of it now anyways. “
you frown, leaving it at that despite wanting to push for more. anya always remember her nightmares. there’s something that’s eating away at your gut and it’s making you anxious. you gnaw at your lip and your eyes twitch. you should be focusing on her. whatever you’re feeling right now is the result of your overthinking. you should trust her. it was just a rare, horrible nightmare that gotten her like this.
things can happen unexpectedly without an explanation.
perhaps you shouldn’t push for an answer and leave it alone?
1 week before the crash.
“ hah! i win! in your face! “ daisuke laughs in triumphant, placing his pink piece over on the next move that solidifies his victory. anya groans loudly next to you, crossing her arms and pouts like a kid who gotten their toy taken away. “ this is unbelievable! i almost had it! “
you laughed, “ better luck next time, anya. it seems like the kid has a brighter future than you when it comes to board games! “
ever since that night, anya’s been uncharacteristically a little distant and jumpy. she’d always seek for your touch. but now, she seems reluctant to touch you first. whenever you try to show anya any kind of affection, it takes her a moment to reciprocate. you can’t really surprise her now or she’ll get visibly startled. anya has trouble sleeping and wakes up from the any sound or movement so you have to be still. for the past four weeks, you tried to ask her about her abnormal behavior, and she’d tell you vague reasons like, “ i just haven’t been feeling well. “ or “ that nightmare got to me more than i thought, i’m sorry. “
you’re worried about her—even her smiles are dampened with a sliver of sadness behind them. you really want to help but you don’t know how. it feels like she’s slowly putting a wall between you, her, and her true feelings. at least right now she’s like her old self again. you’re glad.
“ hey guys. having fun in here, huh? “ curly and jimmy walks inside the lounge. the blond waves at the three of you with a welcoming smile while jimmy awkwardly stood behind him.
“ yeah! i was able to beat anya this time! isn’t that right, anya? “
“ mhm, but as usual, it was luck. “ anya says softly, her voice lacking the enthusiasm as it did before. she tucks her arms into her chest. you flash her a look of concern. there it is again, the churning feeling in your belly. why did her mood sour like that? was it because of curly and jimmy’s arrival? your eyes travel back to the two men, quietly observing them. curly ruffles daisuke’s hair as he stood behind the couch daisuke is sitting on. he’s completely focused on talking to daisuke. your gaze transition over to jimmy and his eyes meet with yours.
that same glint he had in his eyes a few weeks ago, has you feeling more than uneasy. then, your mind suddenly flashes back to the subtle smirk he had and him walking back to the direction of the sleeping quarters. not too long after him going over there and you lounging in medbay, anya joins you, trembling and barely wanting you to touch her. you thought about her saying it was a bad nightmare and didn’t remember enough to tell you the details of it. like what you thought about before, anya always remembers her nightmares and only gets them due to stress.
the horrible realization starts to sink in and your heart drops to the very pits of your stomach. it drowns in a sea of dread.
oh god, did he go to her while you were. . .?
you feel sick. why did you ignore that gut feeling in your stomach during your walk to medbay back then? why didn’t you stay with anya? why did you just figure this out now?
you stand up unexpectedly, startling everyone.
“ (name)? what’s the matter? “ anya asks with clear worry. throat dry, you gathered up the strength to cast her a assuring smile that doesn’t reach your eyes in which she notices right away.
“ i. .i need to go to the restroom. i’ll be back everyone. . “
you quickly slide the bathroom door behind you. unable to hold your own weight anymore, you fall to your knees. there’s a suffocating feeling in your chest that’s causing your breathing to become uneven. your mind races back to the evaluations and how uncomfortable anya looked every time she had to do jimmy’s. yes, you stood behind the door to provide her some “security” in the recent weekly evaluations, but god, you actually let her be in the same room alone with this man? her assaulter? you did basically nothing but blindly trusted her words and ignored your intuition.
maybe anya didn’t want to tell you because she knew that you’d make a big uproar out of it, thus making the situation possibly even worse?
or maybe she was afraid you’d look at her differently?
. . .or maybe jim threatened her to not tell the crew?
t r u s t
she kept this in all this time and gave these inconsistent reasons that you knew was out of character for her to make up. . and yet. .you ignored the obvious signals and trusted her anyway. all you had to do was listen to your gut feeling and sit down with her to talk. all you had to say was that you were there for her and you’ll listen to anything she has to say if she wants to talk. you’d do anything for her—anything. even if it meant the cost of your internship which matters practically nothing to you. it’s not like the company was worth shit anyways. what fucking company doesn’t implement locks on doors in rooms where their own employees sleep in? what company just allows someone like him in?
tears bubble in your eyes as you grit your teeth, seething in frustration. you bite down on your bottom until the thin layer skin easily rips and starts to bleed. you bawl your hands into tight fists, nails dig into your palm until moon crescents dig into the flesh. you’re so horrible.
you feel so sick.
this is what she must of felt but much much worse.
you can’t even imagine how she had to process what happened all alone in the dark and walk through the long corridors in dead silence just to get to medbay, to you. you can’t imagine how it feels to hide something so traumatic from everyone while gathering up your broken shards of identity in silence. you don’t blame her—you can never blame her from hiding what happened between her and jimmy. you can only blame yourself for being ignorant and not fully realizing how dangerous he truly is.
your stomach turns upside down and you feel the sudden need to vomit. you scrambled over to the toilet and puke your guts out. series of fat tears roll down your cheeks.
“ ugh. .” you coughed hoarsely, hunched over.
you feel sick. you feel sick. you feel sick. you feel sick. you feel sick—
a few firm knocks on the bathroom door made you freeze.
anya’s concerned voice calls out behind the bathroom door. “ (name), are you alright? are you feeling well? “
you couldn’t even respond properly without hacking which gave yourself away immediately. alerted by your excessive coughing, she successfully slides the door open and rushes inside to your aid.
you never locked the door behind you, did you?
“ i’m here, (name). please, let it all out. “ anya rubs your back soothingly, not bothered by the drool and vomit spilling from your lips. you feel embarrassed under the worried, gentle gaze of anya. she whispers comforting words as you finishing vomiting. she grabs some paper towels and silently offers to wipe your face. you shake your head and gingerly take the towels from her hands and do it yourself.
anya opens her mouth to speak but you interrupt her.
“ it’s funny, “ you half laughed and sobbed, “ how you were able to come in so quickly just as i realized the door wasn’t locked. “
anya’s eyes widen with shock and looks as if she was about to burst into tears.
1 month after the crash.
“ anya, sweetheart? “ you gently call out to her before resting a hand on anya’s shoulder as stood by the sink, soaking curly’s bandages with soap and water. the fresh bandages are slowly starting to run out because of curly’s nonstop bleeding. you and anya both agreed to clean and reuse the bandages after one use to maintain the supply.
she still slightly jumps and turns her head around with a soft smile. “a-ah! s-sorry, (name). what’s wrong? “
“ let me clean the bandages and give captain his meds. you’ve been standing there for the past forty minutes. sit out in the lounge, okay? after watching you the first few times, i know what to do. “
a look of uncertainty dwells on her face as she ponders over your words. gingerly, you place a hand over her stomach. “ please, anya? i’ve seen how uncomfortable you look when you do this for him, you don’t have to hide it from me because i’m your lover. we’ve talked about this. i’ll do anything i can to shoulder your burden and make sure that you’re not pushing your body. “
anya’s grey hues flicker with appreciation and a twinge of guilt. “ okay, i’ll go sit down. if you need me, please holler out. i-i hate to make you do this after—“
“ anya. “ you interrupt her, reaching out to cradle her pale cheeks. they feel warm under your palms. your gaze pools into her own. “ anything. “ you whisper, resting your forehead against hers. anya’s lips pursue in a thin line. you know she wants to object but she swallows her words without anything to wash it down with, leaving behind a bitter taste. you lift your chin to press a lingering kiss to anya’s forehead.
tentatively, anya walks out of the medical, leaving you and a shell of a man in the room alone. a deep sigh runs past your lips and you go over to the half–foamed up desk to quietly grab a bottle of pain meds. “ captain. “ you mutter, walking over to the bed where he permanently lays. what a pitiful sight to witness. curly resembles a meat bag, his limbs left horribly mutated and amputated, his once tan skin is now all gone and long burned off. he’s stripped from his protection and only his vulnerable muscles are exposed. his only eye, wide and blue, stares up at you. you stare back blankly. through a singular sea of blue, you see a mass of fear, pain, and most of all, regret.
“ i don’t hate you, captain, “ you pop the bottle open. “ i’m sure anya doesn’t either. well, anya wouldn’t bring herself to hate you even if she wanted to anyways. “
he doesn’t respond but his permanent wide–eyed gaze continues to stare you down.
“ i’ll give you 5mg of oxycodone before i do your bandages. i’ll give you your second dose afterwards.”
you shake out two pills from the bottle. “ . . .all of this isn’t really your fault. misguided karma can be cruel. however, “ you slowly opened his jaw, the slimy sound of his muscles moving against each other makes you cringe. you see why anya can get more nauseated off of this. “ misplaced trust in a bitter person who’s undeserving of trust in the first place is what gets someone like you in a position like this. “
you hold his jaw, his exposed, irritated muscles twitch erratically against your protective layer of skin. your stomach swirls with a sinking feeling. curly starts to breath heavily, his pupil dilates. you hold one pill between your index finger and thumb. hot tears prickle at the corner of your twitching eyes as a shaky grin stretches across your face, and a bead of sweat rolls down your brow. you feel sick to the utter depths of your stomach.
“ don’t struggle , yeah? “
this wasn’t your worst moment right , curly?
0 days before the crash.
“ curly, fuck, where did he walk away to? “ you stopped curly in the middle corridors, pulling him back by his broad shoulder with a firm hand. curly, who’s face is full of panic and confusion, frantically responds back. “ i-i don’t know but i’m going to go find him to try and talk—“
“ i-i’m sorry, talk? this goes beyond talking at this fucking point! that fucking dog assaulted anya and she’s pregnant! “ you spat, heart full of frustration, “ do you think talking to her assaulter is going to fix shit? do you think doing the bare minimum is going to take back what she went through?! “
he runs a trembling hand through his blond curls. “ i-i understand but—fuck, let me just try—and—and, “
your hand drops to your side and you send him a look of utter disappointment. “ un—fucking—believable. how many times did anya tell you about jimmy? did you know about his shitty behavior even before she got pregnant? assaulted? she doesn’t want to tell me the answer so i’m fucking asking you! “
he stays slient, the guilty expression dawning on his face says it all.
“ . .what a great leader you are, captain. “ you growled, “ allowing that shitty friend of yours to ride this ship and you do barely nothing until the situation blows up in your face. this is what happens when you let your personal emotions dilute your judgment and reason as a leader. this is the outcome. the crew is my responsibility, my ass. if i had it my way, i would of shoved his ass in the cryo pod the second i’ve found out. but alas, i’m not the fucking leader but a damn intern. i held it allll in for a week for this shit? just imagine how anya felt to endure the awful trauma longer than that only for you, the captain, the only person with power, to handle it so horribly. fool.”you turn your heels and stomping back to medical for anya.
4 months after the crash.
“ daisuke. . kiddo, “ you gently call out to him as you find him somberly laying on his back next to the area leading to the cargo. his forearm rests over his eyes.
“ you okay? “
“ no, not really. .it’s just. .i wonder what my mother thinks right now. .she’s probably thinking i’m finally putting my feet into the water, finally learning and figuring out what i should to do in life during this internship. .meanwhile i’m on my back getting wasted off of. .mouthwash. ”
you sit down next to him. you thought about what to say for a prolonged moment before asking him,
“ before all of this, did you enjoy the internship? “
“ i. . .i did. .i was having fun . .with swansea, anya, you, a-and . . “
daisuke lets out a soft sniffle, you just smile solemnly.
“ don’t cry, sunshine. as long as you enjoyed yourself, that’s all that matters. even in the predicament we’re in now. .let’s have hope. once all of this is over, your mother will be proud that you got through this internship and you should tell her allll about what you did and learned with the ol’ man swansea. that man is a hot mess but i know he enjoys you as his intern.”
“ . . .really? “ he meekly asks, peeking at you from under his forearm with teary eyes. god, daisuke looks like a sad puppy.
“ of course, kiddo. “ you force out a happy laugh to appease him. you hate to lie to him but as long as jimmy is attempting to play captain, the situation will continue to spiral down into the abyss. you know with absolute certainty that jimmy was the one who caused the ship to crash. the fact that man pinned the blame on his close friend, who was trying to see good in him, for crashing the ship is beyond disgusting. judging from curly’s recent evaluation from anya before the crash, he did seem a little melancholic. but, for him to drastically make a reckless decision to sabotage the ship and everyone in it? he wouldn’t do that even if it was on his mind. jimmy on the other hand. .
“ oh. .it seems like you beat me to him. is he alright?”anya’s relieved voice rings in your ears. you draw your attention over to your partner who’s walking down the corridor towards you and daisuke. she uncrosses her arms that was once tucked to her chest and you raise a brow.
“ yeah, just a little sad but i was talking to him. how’d you know he was here? “
her gaze averts to the ground and you jump up, anger bubbles in your chest. “ jimmy, wasn’t it? what did he do? he didn’t hurt or yell at you or anything, did he? “
you pace over to her and rest your hands on her shoulders. “ no, no—seriously, i’m okay. . he sent me here to check on daisuke while he took care of some things. i was just surprised you were here. “ it had to be more then that.
sighing heavily, you turn back to daisuke who was now attempting to get back on his feet. “ daisuke, be careful. .has swansea been making you drink that mouthwash stuff again with him? “ you questioned skeptically, walking over to him to assist him back on his feet. wobbling, the brunette boy softly groans as you let him rest his arm loosely around your shoulders for support.
“. .no. .yeah. . i. .may. .kinda, totally have went overboard with it this time. b-but i gave it to jimmy because i didn’t wanna mess with it anymore. “
aggravated, you smack your teeth, “ so you’re saying that he saw you like that and didn’t even bother to help you up himself and sends anya down here instead? i’m so sick of his shit! some fuckin’ wannabe captain he is! you could of threw up and choked on your own damn vomit! that careless fucker knew that! “
“ you’re starting to sound like swansea. “ daisuke mutters through his drunken haze.
anya speaks up in a soft voice that’s mean to calm you. “ (name), you have to calm down. i understand that you’re upset. .but we need to rest daisuke down somewhere in the lounge. “
your eye twitch and your lips purse. she was right. plus, you don’t want daisuke to hear all of this while he’s struggling with his own inner conflicts. even the effects of the dire situation is dawning down on him and taking a toll on his mental health.
but fuck, you’re tired of being quiet.
d o s o m e t h i n g
? ? ¿ ! months before the ????
you can’t sleep. a soft sigh leaves your lips. anya’s body lightly stirs besides you. you don’t want to leave her but it’d be right to check up on curly to see if he needs his meds. there’s no time clock but curly’s groaning and restlessness indicates you that it’s time for his painkillers. if he is in pain, you’ll just give him his meds and come back to anya. it’s been a straight shot to the medical room ever since the crash. the foam has completely fucked up the sleeping quarters. . maybe it’s for the better or worse now. everyone is bunched together in the lounge room with extra sleeping beds from the medical. luckily, there hasn’t been any problems amongst the crew and it’s easier to keep in eye on jimmy.
“ anya, “ you whispered out to her. she lays on her left side, facing you. pieces of her shaggy hair prettily hovers over her tired eyes as they fluttered open. “ yeah? “ she responds back, you send her a small smile, reaching out to brush the strands away from her face.
“ i’m going to go check up on captain in the medical. i’ll. .be back, okay? if this dumb thing goes off, “ you gesture to the broken robot standing an inch away from you and anya’s sleeping bags. thankfully it’s able to go off, albeit broken thanks to jimmy. originally, anya suggested the idea and you couldn’t agree more with it.
“ i’ll be running to you so fast like how i did after i found out that passed my final exams. “ you whispered playfully.
recalling the joyful memory, a soft giggle leaves anya’s lips. she remembered you were so anxious and restless over the final exams that she kept having to pinch you and make you run with her to get your mind off of things. once you found out that you passed med school, you ran so fast to anya while she was waiting outside of the campus for you and nearly ran her over. she nods with a beautiful smile that you missed so much. anya was always a carefree woman who was willing to go through hardships with a cool–mind and solutions. but, after this overhaul trip going downhill and the terrible shit that’s happened and is currently happening—the light in her eyes is duller. it mirrors her reserved and almost timid-like behavior now.
that’s not who anya is—that’s not her and that’s not who she should by the damages of a terrible, insecure man who refuses to swallow down his own ever-growing problems like a hard pill and take responsibility for his self-sabotaging actions. you bet he’d choke on himself and self-destruct if he ever tried swallowing. all he ever does is vomit and project himself onto others.
“ okay. we can also clean his bandages after we’ve rested. “ anya suggests.
you shake your head, ghosting a hand over her belly. the bump has slowly been getting bigger but isn’t very noticeable to others. “ there’s no we, just me. the last time you got nauseated, you asked jimmy to give curly his meds while i was busy with daisuke and. .he. .” you trailed off and sighed with frustration. you still can’t get over anya telling you the truth about jimmy getting frustrated at her for asking him to give curly his meds because of her nausea.
absolutely horrible.
before anya can say anything, you give her a quick kiss on the forehead.
“ i’ll be back this time. “
you got up carefully to not alert the broken robot and paced towards medical. as you did, you glanced around the lounge to see who’s in their respective sleeping bags.
daisuke is laid out asleep.
swansea has been sleeping by the utility and now you know why he was does. you don’t have any objections to it. it’s only fair for the sunshine to be preserved.
jimmy is no where to be found. cockpit, maybe?
as you near the medical, alarming sounds of struggling and curly’s groans made your heart drop. frantically, you sprinted towards the door and slammed it open.
s e c o n d c h a n c e
s e c o n d c h a n c e
“ wh-what the fuck are you doing, jimmy?! g-get off of him! “ her
you ran over to the self-proclaimed captain who was hunching over the defenseless curly, shoving pills into his mouth and down his throat while beating at his stomach. with all of your strength, you shoved jimmy backwards, pulling him away from curly’s mutilated body, who helplessly laid there in the bloodied medical bed, crying and groaning in pain.
“ are you out of your fucking mind, you crazy fuck?!”you screamed at him while he has this mixed, horrid look of panic and frustration on his unshaven face. the pill bottle clutched in his hand made a loud rattling noise as he drops them on the tile floor and it rolls next to you.
“ i-i— h-he was. .m-making too much n-n—oomph! “
thanks to your adrenaline, you shoved him—hard, causing him to stumble back against the desk. pill bottles tumble and crash onto the floor.
hurried footsteps approach the medical from the loud crashes and yelling.
“ so your fucking solution was to beat up that poor man who can’t even goddamn defend himself now? let me fucking remind you since you’re too busy trying to play captain and can’t take responsibility! that man is laying there, the way he is now, because of—ugh! “
in a burst fit of blind rage, he returns the favor and presses his heavy palms against your chest, harshly shoving you backwards. you try to maintain your balance, but your foot accidentally steps on one of the pill bottles, and you fall backwards onto the solid floor, hitting your head. hard.
crack!
you almost instantly black out. not before hearing a loud gasp and anya’s frantic shouting.
“ (name)! j-jimmy. . . at . .did. . .u do?! “
¿!!! ?????????
just me and you vs the world, anya.
“ seriously? this show is so horrible, anya! even my dad who has terrible taste in tv shows, can’t watch this! “ you groaned exaggeratedly, sinking your cheek into your palm, slouching on the elbow of the couch. anya shrugs with a smug smile, placing the tv remote down on the coffee table.
“ well that’s tooo bad, hun. i need to binge this show to clear my mind out completely. all i need is my go-to-combo i usually get from wendy’s. “
you roll your eyes, “ it could of been at least mcdonald’s or something. but. .wendy’s? “
“ they have the best frosties! don’t act you dislike it because they messed up your order once. “ she giggles, leaning over to playfully hit at your ankle.
the show starts and you can barely stomach it. you don’t understand how she zeros out her mind from watching this stuff. it’s so cheesy and bad.
you peer over at anya and just as expected, she’s watching it like she’s into it. anya’s sitting up against the couch, legs crossed while she’s wearing a oversized t-shirt and pajamas. her heap of black shaggy hair that reaches just below her shoulders, was beautifully messy. usually at night, she doesn’t really bother with it. her fair skin shines pretty under the tv light. her pretty lashes fluttering and downturned eyes glistening with interest as she watch the corny reality tv show—god, she’s so breathtaking.
“ so, anya. “ you speak up as soon as the tv cuts to commercials. her undivided attention draws over to you and you cast her a goofy, suggestive smile.
“ while this commercial runs, wanna makeout? “
she blinks at you several times as if to process your question and bursts out laughing.
“ ewwww! “
“ ewwww? what the hell, baby! c’meree. “ you get off the elbow of the couch to playfully grab and pull at the laughing anya’s arm to pull her closer.
“ we’re not some bored teenager couple, you know! “
you successfully pull her into you, wrapping your arms around her body. “ feels like we are when i’m with youu~ “ you coo, puckering your lips at her with teasing intent.
anya blocks your lips with her palm and you immediately lick at it. she gasps and retracts her hand away, allowing you the opportunity to topple her over and kiss all over her pretty face and pouty lips.
“ hehe, (name)! “
once you’re done with your barrage, you bury your face into her neck.
“ marry me once me and you become doctors, anya~ ” you croon, melting into her body.
there’s a momentary pause before her smiling voice responds to you, full of adoration,
“ of course. i wouldn’t have it any other way, (name).”
??? ??¿ is it finally over ??¿!
your eyes peel open, a surge of sharp pain and confusion shoots through your body like a needle. but, once your gaze immediately locks onto the woman you love above you, your heart calms a little. she doesn’t notice that you’re now awake and stares off into somewhere with brooding eyes.
“ a-anya? “
anya’s eyes widen and she snaps her gaze down at you in surprise as your head is currently laid on her lap. tears swell in the corner of her reddened eyes.
“ y-you’re awake again! i-i thought you were finally. .”
despite not being able to move your body from the waist under and through the pain pounding in your head, you smile weakly at her.
“ f-finally what? i-i told you i’ll come back to you. although. . .“ your eyes search the dim setting around you. it’s blurred and bright. it seems like you and anya are in the medical? didn’t you come back from medical after checking up on curly?
c o n f u s i o n
“ why aren’t we in bed? we’re in medical right now. . “
anya’s lips trembles as she struggles to not cry.
“ we’ve decided to rest in here and talk like we’re a bored teenage couple. “
you let out a weak laugh. “ r-really? my br-brain is all over the place right now. everything is starting to feel and look fuzzy. “
your eyes starts to dilate and unfocus but they never leave anya. she says nothing, and quietly caresses your cheek.
your skin has become more discolored while you were unconscious.
how many hours?
how many hours has it been since she locked herself with you and captain? and how many times has her thoughts endlessly ponder and ponder over jimmy’s words he once said to her months back?
t a k e c a r e o f i t
“ a-anya. .? “
anya forces out a smile. her quivering fingers brush away the sweaty hair sticking to your forehead.
my hands are s h a k i n g.
“ . .y-yes? “ anya can barely contain the heartbreak in her voice.
“ w-we’ll take of it together. “ you slurred, “ o-once i get my l-license, i’ll support us and you don’t need to w-worry about a thing. o-once the baby is born, i’ll take care of them while you st-study to get into medical school again. i-i’ll. .even help you. .too. i st-still have my. .notes. “
dark red liquid seeps down your nose. she sees the light becoming dull in your dilated (e/c) hues that she adored so much.
the external bleeding and swelling in your head is pulling you under.
a quiet sob slips from her throat and she gently brings your head up to her chest. her body shudders as she weeps.
there’s a few broken whimpers that sounds far too strangled to be hers or yours.
“ . . d-don’t cry, an. .ya, i. .i’m just g-gonna sleep. y. .you holding. .me like this. .makes me feel at ease. .i. .can finally sleep. .without. .leaving. .ou. .”
your eyes vanish behind discolored eyelids and your head slack against her.
and there’s a gaping hole akin to a black hole that swallows everything that bounded her down, her dreams, her hopes, her love, her fear, her emotions.
what’s left is reason—a reason to the best decision that anya alone can finally act.
with a strangely calm mind and red-rimmed solemn grey eyes, she glances up at the few bottles of pills now left on the desk.
you know you’re better than this.
m a k e n o m i s t a k e , t h i s i s n ‘ t m y w o r s t m o m e n t.
far from it. this is the best decision i’ll ever make.
i’ll take care of it.
everything’s black—but you hear banging, voices, bottles rattling, pained whimpering and strangled noises that sounds similar to a heartbroken man crying.
you slip back into momentary consciousness. through blurred vision, you see a slumped figure above you. you can’t identify who it is but red smears leaves a bit of a hard contrast to your unfocused eyes. without thinking, your feeble hand reach out and you’re only able to make contact with their chin, just with the tips of your fingers.
from one small touch, you can tell the skin long since lost its warmth and now is cold to the touch.
an unknown sorrow strikes your chest and you finally pass with a heart full of confusion, leaving it in a headlock.
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Crushing on You || Slytherin Boys
type :: fluff
tw/cw :: none
contains :: draco malfoy, tom riddle, mattheo riddle, theodore nott, lorenzo berkshire
summary :: cute little loser things they do because they’re so down bad for you. inspired by the fucking masterpiece that is ONE DAY ONE NIGHTTTT AHHHHHH by bts ofc. some of these might be creepy but I think they’re cute
DRACO MALFOY
It’s always an enemies to lovers for him, he literally cannot get crushes on someone unless he hates their guts
Probably cause he got daddy issue but meh, we’re not solving that today
He HATED your guts, he has literally thought of getting a hit-man on you before
You’re his rival in every single aspect, even more than Harry is
Academics, you’re better
Athletics, you’re better
Clubs and community, you’re WAY better
He hates you and makes fun of you every single day and time he gets the chance
Even worse, Harry, Hermione, and Ron all come to defend you which makes him even more mad
But overtime, his aggressive staring and cursing under his breath turned into admiration
It all started when one day during Quidditch practice, some annoying 3rd year thought it would funny to mess with Draco’s broom
He ended up malfunctioning during practice, almost speeding into the walls of the school at astounding speeds
But luckily, you came just in time and yanked him off his broom, letting his broon get destroyed into the castle. But he was unharmed and was wrapped securely in your arms
From then on, he’s had a huge crush on you and all of his hatred turned into admiration
His aggressive stares were a bit softer and his insults had a hidden compliment in it
Everyone thinks that maybe he just feels bad and is finally regretting how rude he’s been to you, which is kinda true
He’s always watching over you, kinda like a stalker (because he is one)
He learns your daily routine, your favorite foods, clothing brands, makeup products, skincare routine, everything
Goes as far to hire and pay different students to watch after you if he’s busy
Somehow, you never notice and just think that people are nosy
He takes his research really far though, like straight up creepy
Draco gets his hands on all of your medical history, every single thing about you
He learns what your allergic too, what your rising sign is, how much you weigh at every check up
When he finds out that you’re anemic, he crushes up pills and sneakily adds it to your food to make sure you’re healthy
Does this with other things too, like Vitamin C, iron pills, etc etc etc
But in the end, it helps you a lot and makes you feel much better
And it makes him happy to know that you’re better because of him
One day, you get asked out by none other than Harry Potter
Instantly, Draco is enraged and everything in his sight is going to die a painful death
He feels betrayed by you despite treating you like utter shit for so many years
Not the mention he’s also gotten with maybe two or three other girls
He plans to ruin your date and he succeed
He burns Harry’s outfit, posses someone to spill hot tea on you, and even goes as far to sneak food you’re allergic to into your food
The date ends with you crying back to your dorm and Harry beating himself up
From this, Draco is happy and prepares to come and play knight-in-shining armor for you
But once again, he sees Harry comforting you and giving you a tight hug
Draco is literally about to kill Harry for this, cause ain’t no way he just did ALL of that for Harry to swoop in again
“You can’t take her! I loved her first! I love her more than your stupid four-eyed could ever!” He shouts at Harry
So yeah…. He just confessed out of rage
TOM RIDDLE
Never ever EVER will he get caught lacking for someone
This man keeps all of his lovey dovey feelings to himself, bro literally got a diary 😭
But when he saw you, and just like all of those dumb movies he’s seen, he was instantly love struck by you
He never knew that this was possible, he’s instantly disgusted with himself and does his best to the diminish the crush
But it won’t go away… you’re just perfect in every way
He’s so frustrated that he genuinely thinks of just killing you
But, thank GOD, he decides to not kill you and just become a stalker 😊
He finds out your entire schedule and walking path just so he can get small glimpses of you
Whenever you see him or make eye contact with him, he looks at you like you killed his entire family and he’s coming for revenge
But he’s actually drooling and hearing the most beautiful classical piano in the background
He sees you as a god/goddess that blessed him with your presence
Tom has always seen himself as the chosen one, the one given enough power to destroy and fix the world
And he sees you as his future Queen to the brand new world he will make :) kinda romanticccc
Finds all of your social media and stalks it for hours
He makes one of those fake burner accounts that looks like a bot
So when he follows you, you think nothing of it
But in reality, he’s watching you in depth
Bro finds your SPOTIFY and YOUR AO3 ACCOUNT… That’s how crazy he is
He made an entire playlist of every song you’ve ever posted and mentioned
He listens to it daily :)
Honestly, he’s just like me fr
He’s just a lil crazy and wants to know EVERYTHING about you
If you ever come up to him or are assigned partners, oh my god he’s gonna act so cold
Acts like he hates your guts and despises your existence
But in reality, he’s gonna thank every single religious figure out there for blessing him with allowing him to be in your space
MATTHEO RIDDLE
When he first saw you, he thought you were fine as hell
He was just trying to get into your pants
But when he tried to make a move, you scoffed and shoved him away
Instantly, he was attracted to you
He’s only been rejected like twice, and both times it ended with them begging on their knees for him
He was about to do the exact same thing to you
Unlike the others, he’s the only one that shows it and actively makes a move
Constantly flirts with you, no matter the time or day
Kinda like Filipino courtingggg 🤭
Finds all of your classes and walks you to all of them
Even though you want to walk with your friends, he won’t let you and always pulls you away from them
He skips his classes constantly just so he can be with you and flirt with you more
Even if you keep rejecting him or even slap him, he won’t stop. He loves when girls play hard to get
Sends you flowers, they’re a little bit ugly, but it’s the thought that counts
Sends you chocolates and stuffed animals to the point where a whole section of your dorm is dedicated to the pile of 65 stuffed animals you’ve received
He can’t really write poems or love songs, but he sends you little drawings that are barely readable
He makes little stick figures to represent you guys, one that’s super tall with abs (him) and another one that has hair and a triangle body (you)
Although you can barely understand his chicken scratch drawings, it makes you giggle from how stupid they are
Sometimes it’s him fighting off dragons, or you drowning and he saves you, or him being a rich king and you’re his queen
Never ever gives up on you, no matter what
Will fight off every single competition he has, he doesn’t care if they end up paralyzed
One time, someone older than you guys by one year tried to ask you out
Because he was a grade above you guys, he thought Mattheo wouldn’t fight him
But nopppeeee he was dead wrong, Mattheo sent him to the hospital wing repeatedly for a whole month
Even though the poor guy learned his lesson, Mattheo was mad that not only did he have the balls to ask you out but to also doubt Mattheo’s strength
Surprisingly, he cares a lot towards your friends as well and never leaves him out of the picture which is sweet
If you get a 100 roses from him (an almost daily occurrence), then he’ll get your best friends a small bouquet of 10-12 roses in return
If you get a huge chocolate box of the most expensive chocolates, then your friends get a small little wrapped box of a few chocolates
It’s really sweet and it makes your friends see that he’s actually pretty cool and sweet
Definitely goes around and lies to people by saying you two are dating
Eventually, everyone is fucking tired of you guys and basically sees you as a couple
One day, your friends say they’re gonna have a girls day and ask you to meet them at this nice restaurant
But surprise! The girls lied, you got all dressed up for nothing :(
But surprise again! Mattheo pops up. Your friends set you up with him to help you two to finally start dating
THEODORE NOTT
He’s had plenty of one night stands, weird situation-ships, and more but with you, he’s never had that
You’ve been his friend for ages, before he got hot and ripped
And he appreciated you a lot for that, he felt like he could finally be himself with someone
Over the years, he’s slowly gotten more and more comfortable with you
When he was going to bed, he thought to himself “I wouldn’t mind marrying (y/n)”
He smiled as he said that, about to sleep until his eyes shot wide open as he repeated what he said
“I wouldn’t mind marrying (y/n)??!???!!?”
When he realized he likes you, he’s a complete idiot
Normally with girls, he’s super smooth and charismatic - but that’s only because he’s trying to get into their pants
With you, you knew all his tactics and how awful of a person he can and HAS been over the years
You’ve seen him cheat, yell, and sometimes be borderline abusive to his past girlfriends
He starts to worry about how you perceive him and wants to make sure he seems like a good option
He becomes so awkward around you, it’s painful
Starts to be way nicer to you than he ever has been and becomes a lot more chivalrous
He takes off his jacket and shields you from rain, if anyone teases you he’ll get really defensive, he spoon feeds you at times, always pays for your lunch and dinner
Even goes as far as to take you on shopping sprees with no limit - even if you say no he’ll just keep track of everything you look at and buy it for you
Gets you flowers every week and always excuses it as “this is what best friends always do”
You two are basically dating… just without an official title
He’s TERRIFIEDDDD to ask, he’s literally had break downs over his fear of you rejecting him
Please just confess to him yourself, I’m not sure when he’ll get the balls and confidence to do it
LORENZO BERKSHIRE
He’s the most sane out of all of them all 😭
Literally the one line from Taylor Swift, “in a world of boys he’s a gentleman” AHAAAAHHHHH
He gets a crush on you after you two are partnered for a long term project
Loves how smart and dedicated you are, it inspires him to be the same way
Sometimes he purposely acts dumb just so that you’ll help him
Always pays attention to the small details and everything you do
Spoils you ROTTEN omg
Will take you out to go shopping with him and he whips out his black card and casually drops 25k just on clothes and makeup for you
He loves the feeling of spoiling you, makes him feel like your future husband
Praises you for everything, even the bare minimum
“Woah! I like your outfit!” And you’re literally wearing the required school uniform
He wants to date you and call you his own, but he knows he’s a fuck boy deep down
Every time he’s dated a girl, he’s ended up breaking up with them because he can’t commit or just straight up cheating on them
He’s very confident that he could change and be better, but he wants to be perfect before he dares you
Because he sees you as perfect :”) and you only deserve the best
You help motivate him to become better, even though you didn’t know you did
Starts going to the gym, works harder in school, tries to be more nice to everyone
Eventually, he’ll get the guts to ask you out for the Yule ball but he’ll keep saying you’re going as “friends”
But one day you’ll overhear him and his group talking about how fat of a crush he has on you
They all tease him and call him a simp, loverboy, everything
But when he sees that you’ve been listening the entire time, he’s so reddddd
Tries to hide his face and runs away, he avoids you for a little bit
He’s so so so scared of not being good enough or even ruining his relationship with you
He’d genuinely be okay with just being your best friend for all his life whilst loving you, even though it would hurt him so badly
Please just accept this boy 🙏 tell this man he’s enough and that you love him
read more here! :D
#harry potter#harry potter x reader#draco malfoy#draco malfoy x reader#draco x reader#draco x y/n#tom riddle#tom riddle x reader#tom riddle x y/n#mattheo riddle#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo x y/n#theodore nott#theodore nott x reader#theodore x reader#lorenzo berkshire#lorenzo berkshire x reader#lorenzo x reader#slytherin#slytherin boys#fluff#crush#harry potter headcanon
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Twenty Years
Summary: Twenty years went by since the last time you saw Joel Miller. You never thought you would see him again, but on the day you finally broke free of David' clutches and saved a girl at the same time, he's just there, standing in front of you. When your daughter and her husband find you, urging you to leave, you offer to take Joel and Ellie with you, knowing you have to talk to him. About the two of you. And about your daughter.
Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. reader
Rating: M
Wordcount: 6k
Warnings: pre + post outbreak, angst, implied smut, implied and mentions of sexual assault (I kept it pretty vague but it is happening, readers discretion is advised), David (needs his own waring, he talks about child brides and what he wants to do to them), religious bullshit, threats, lies about medical conditions, violence, blood, death, Joel not knowing he has another daughter, pregnancy, more angst, infected wounds, medication, some fluff, talking about feelings, talking about dreams, some kisses, cockblock Tommy Miller, happy end
A/N: Dunno what happened but I wrote all of this in the last 6 hours. Please read the warnings, If I forgot something in the warnings please let me know
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Full Masterlist // Joel Miller Masterlist
At one o’clock on the dot the door opened, a stream of dusty sweaty man walking into the diner you were working in. It wasn’t your dream job, but it kept the bills paid while you were in night school to get your business degree.
And… it had its perks.
Like being located across the street of a huge construction side. The building that had been there before had been demolished almost a year before, making place for a new building. A mall. Or… whatever. It’s not like you cared.
With the construction side came a lot of workers taking their break in the diner.
With them came a frequent flow of tips into your pocket.
With them came Joel Miller.
You did not even notice him in the beginning which was the biggest fucking mystery to you. Because he was…. He was attractive, broad shoulders, dark hair and eyes. Always wearing a shirt that hugged his chest like a second skin. And then there were the days he was wearing flannel….
The whole construction worker look was really working for you.
Yet it took him calling out one of his co-workers (employees you would learn later, because he was the boss) from flirting on the verge of making you uncomfortable with you, to make you notice him.
You had insisted on getting him his lunch on the house and he wasn’t having it. At all. You caught his eyes outside when you saw the bills tucked under his mug when you were cleaning the table, making you grin as you shook your head.
He had winked at you with a boyish smile around his lips and that was all it took to start your crush on Joel Miller.
Joel Miller who after that always seemed to linger a little longer in the diner to talk to you. To tell you about his daughter. To ask you about you and your life with that southern drawl that made you want to kiss the spot on his cheek that seemed too stubborn to grow any hair.
If you had known back then that only three months later the world as you knew it would end, you maybe wouldn’t have wasted so much time in confessing your feelings to him.
Or… at all.
Maybe you would have asked him to stay when in a very drunken mistake you both ended up in your bed, fucking until you couldn’t remember your name just the night before the world fell apart.
Maybe things would be different for you now.
You blinked a couple of times, getting rid of the mental picture of Joel Miller smirking at you as the door opened.
“Come on, he’s waiting,” a gruff voice said and you nodded.
You were at a point where you were asking yourself if doing this just to survive in this hell of a world was worth it. If running, even if you would die trying was the better choice.
Yet you knew you weren’t doing this for your own life.
You were doing this to protect her.
And you would keep surviving and protecting her until you took your very last breath.
The day you walked into a group of men in the woods almost ten years after the outbreak you were too desperate for help to question their offer of shelter and food.
You and your ten year old daughter Hannah had been on the run for months after your settlement had been overrun by infected, only making it out alive barely. With winter being in full swing for the last two weeks you were getting desperate to find a place to stay for you and your daughter.
Maybe if you wouldn’t have been severely dehydrated and starved you would have seen the way David’s gaze had lingered on Hannah too long to be just out of concern.
Maybe you could somehow have gotten far away from Silver Lake until it was too late.
Maybe you wouldn’t have spend the last years feeling like a cheap whore whenever David summoned you to his room to give you absolution for your sins while he rutted into you from behind before throwing you out like trash.
David, you learned quickly, was a psychotic maniac pedophile who masked his sick intentions with the word of god.
It was a week after you arrived, that he let the facade slip and told you about his true intentions for taking you in.
He wanted Hannah, as his bride.
You were too stunned to speak as he kept going on that she was the one he had been waiting for and you were so lucky to have birthed the perfect girl that would bring whatever the fuck he needed to make this settlement more powerful and his followers happier.
When you offered to take her place he only laughed, marking you as impure since you had her out of wedlock and her father was most likely dead. You weren't pure enough to have children with. He wasn’t asking, he would be taking Hannah and if you would trouble him, he would kill you.
When it became clear that he was serious about this, you made up the lie that Hannah would never be able to give him any children due to a birth defect that left her without ovaries.
You didn’t think he’d believe you at first, his cold eyes calculating before he hummed, telling you that he did find it odd that a girl in her age did not have her period yet.
You by then knew that one, he had no idea about the female body and two, he had actually spoken to Hannah about it.
He had left you in your room for a whole week after that. Alone. Without the opportunity to see your own child.
And when he came to see you it was only to inform you that Hannah’s condition had been confirmed to be much worse, leaving her unable to perform her wifely duties by his most trusted doctor in town and that he now had to find another use for the two of you.
Still occupied with the horror of what these people had done to your daughter you were to stunned to speak when he slapped you across the face, before he turned you around and pulled at your pants, his lips against your ear as he towered behind you, informing you that if he couldn’t have the useless cunt of your child, he would have yours as a substitute.
Because that was all a woman was.
A warm cunt.
Something was different today.
You hadn’t been able to see Hannah, even though every Tuesday you were allowed to visit her and her new husband at their home.
If Silver Lake had brought anything good since you gotten here, it was Hannah having been put in the house of the town doctor. The doctor, Carl, had been in his early forties when you met first.
You hadn’t been allowed to leave your room at first but David, showing you (or more like his followers) his good grace, had allowed for Hannah to visit you twice a week for an hour under the supervision of the town doctor Carl who she was living with.
As helpless as you felt in your situation you were so happy that you had Hannah back, crying in your arms. From the day she was born the both of you hadn’t been separated, so of course she was scared and missed you and your heart broke for the mess you put the both of you in.
You only noticed the man who had brought her here after minutes, your eyes hardening, putting Hannah behind your back to lash out at him for touching your daughter when he told you in quiet harsh whispered words to listen to him.
That he was the one who confirmed your lies about Hannah’s condition, and that he made them sound so bad that she became uninteresting for David. That he offered to take her and even you in. While he was allowed to take Hannah, you would remain in David’s place for his… needs. Something Carl would work on changing but needing time for it.
His own daughter had been taken by David when she turned twelve before she just disappeared and he wanted nothing more than to take him down, but it was difficult due to the hierarchy in town and how delusional the towns people were to everything that David told them.
He was no fighter, he had been here in this resort on vacation with his family when the outbreak happened. He had no immediate way of helping you, but he could help keep Hannah safe.
And he did.
Hannah grew into a beautiful young woman, soaking everything up Carl thought to her and his son Jamie. She was doing better stitches than Carl himself when she was only fourteen years old, not that anyone knew about it.
Women weren’t allowed to learn and work in this town.
But Carl trained his son Jamie to become a doctor, and if Hannah was in the same room? He could not stop her form listening and learning, could he?
The longer you were in Silver Lake, the more freedom you carved for yourself. It took almost two years after you arrived for you to not lash out and be punished for whatever the fuck David and his goons thought you did wrong.
By now, you were playing the perfect little mistress, shamed by big parts of town when you walked down the street, silently thanked by the woman who had young daughters and now did not have to fear them getting taken once they hit a certain age.
It was the only way you could endure David’s hands on you.
Knowing that whenever he was occupied with whatever sick fantasy he had in his head with you, he had less time to lure on little girls.
You were doing so good you were even allowed to attend the wedding of Hannah and Jamie only last month, the two of them having fallen in love in the last year.
But today something was different.
Or maybe you were paranoid because you finally had a way of leaving this place.
You had to leave this place before David found out about not only your lie, but Carls because Hannah was pregnant.
Some of David’s men had been missing for some days now and David was preoccupied with figuring out what happened, and how to get his very hungry town fed.
Carl had told you early on to not eat any of the meat that was served, telling you that there was a reason people went missing during the winter with a long hard look. Something you and Hannah took to heart, having not eaten a single bit of meat since getting here.
With David being out, there was more time you could spend out of his house, leaving you to finally form a plan to leave this town. Through his connections Carl and two other men who wanted to leave had been able to trade some medical supplies for a car with a settlement a two day walk away.
You would leave in three days time and you hopped that nothing would happen until then.
You didn’t count in the very angry girl who ran into you on your way back to your room, blood splattered all over her face, eyes frantic.
„Let me goooo,“ she yelled at you when you put your hands on her shoulders.
She couldn’t be older than fourteen. You heard yelling behind her, pulling her with you inside your room.
„Slow down and shut up, they are gonna hear you,“ you whispered as you slowly closed the door behind you.
„Who the fuck are you?“ She whispered angrily.
„Doesn’t matter. Who are you?“
„Doesn’t matter,“ she snapped back. You took her appearance in, your eyes stopping at the cleaver she was gripping in her small hand, blood dripping from it’s blade.
„Was it David?“ You asked, nodding towards the cleaver.
„No. That sick fuck is somewhere out there. Are you with them?“ She asked, gripping the cleaver tighter.
„Not out of my own choice,“ you said as you walked past her. You got on your knees next to your bed, carefully getting under one of the floorboards, getting your knife out.
You heard her footsteps behind you as you reached inside again, getting the couple of baby pictures you had of Hannah out.
„Is someone with you?“ You asked her as you got back up and walked towards you dresser.
„My…. Friend. He’s… I don’t know of he’s… no he is… he’s out there,“ she said.
„Okay,“ you said before you got out of the shitty dress you had to wear and picked some pants and a sweatshirt.
„Sheesh lady,“ she whispered and you looked over your shoulder as she turned her back towards you embarrassed as you changed. You were pulling your boots on when she turned back around.
It was then that you noticed the smoke coming through the slit under the door.
Fire.
„Fuck. Okay. We gotta get out of there. You stay behind me, okay? If we run into someone, I will take care of them,“ you said, grabbing your backpack, putting it on.
„I can take care of myself,“ she said, face determined.
„And I don’t question that. But I have been stuck here for ten years. If anyone kills these people, it is me,“ you said.
She looked at you for a long moment, before she nodded. You turned around and searched for one of your lighter jackets you had not planned to take with you, but she was only wearing a shirt and it was still snowing outside. You approached her, holding the jacket out for her to take.
„Give me the cleaver,“ you said as she struggled to get it on.
She glared at you, before you held up a knife to trade. She sighed before she gave you the cleaver and you watched her put the jacket on before she snapped the knife from your hand.
You took a deep breath.
„Okay. Stay behind me. I am gonna get us out of here. Then we’re gonna get my daughter and get our of here,“ you said and her eyebrows went up.
„You have a daughter?“ She asked surprised, you nodded.
„Yeah. I have,“ you said before you opened the door.
When you heard his voice you gestured for the girl to hide behind the bar.
You had made it to the old tavern, smoke thick inside the room as the fire spread.
„You’re easy to track, Ellie,“ David said and you took one last look at the girl, Ellie, before you got up and stood to your full height, seeing the surprise on David’s face.
„What are you doing here after everything I did for you?“ He said with narrowed eyes and you laughed. Once.
„What you did for me? Enlighten me what you did for me apart form raping me whenever you felt like it and threaten to kill my daughter,“ you snarled and he rolled his eyes, before surprise lifted his eyebrows as he noticed the cleaver in your hand.
„She’s with you,“ he said before he turned away from you, walking towards the door. He reached into his pants pocked and used his keys to look the door before he put them back.
„If you want to get out of here, you gotta come here and get the keys. Either of you,“ he said a little louder and a small smile came to your lips.
„You think I haven’t waited for my chance to kill you?“ You asked as you approached him.
„Always knew I should have killed you. But I have a sweet spot for our dear little Hannah. She’s just so…. Innocent. Almost as innocent as Ellie. But she’s far stronger than your little broken girl. Ellie could have been what this town is missing. But she just had to kill all of my best men huh?“ David was still looking for Ellie, only half of his attention on you.
The fire was making it difficult to breathe. You had to get yourself and the girl out of here.
„Ah fuck,“ David groaned and you saw Ellie slip past him, her knife stabbing him in his neck before she hid in one of the front booths.
At this point David's focus was completely on finding Ellie, which you used to you advantage.
He was about to grab Ellie ankle, the girl screaming when you grabbed a chair and used it to hit him over the back of his head. He grunted, letting go of Ellie who crawled away. He fell and before David could blink you were on top of him punching his face.
And the fucker just laughed.
„Go on, kill me. I know you can’t,“ he mocked and you saw red.
The cleaver made contact with his shoulder first, making him groan in pain, eyes wide with surprise.
„You think I can’t kill you?“ You screamed.
„You think I haven’t dreamed about this since you took me hostage you fucking maniac?“ You felt his blood splash against your face as you brought the clover down again and again and again.
He was barely breathing by the time you stopped, his eyes wide in what you were sure was fear as he looked at you.
„I am gonna kill you. And then I am going to take my pregnant daughter away from here,“ you spit down at him, before you brought the cleaver down one last time, killing him for good.
With shaky fingers you reached inside his pants, searching for the keys.
„Ellie!“ You yelled and the girl came out of hiding, eyes wide with fear as he followed you to the door. You unlocked the door, coughing as fresh air filled your lungs, Ellie running past you.
Closing your eyes, allowing yourself a second to fill your lungs with fresh air you startled when you heard the girl scream.
„NO! Don’t fucking touch me!“ She yelled and you snapped your head around, seeing a man with his arms around her, pulling her against his chest.
You saw red, running towards them.
„Shhhh…. Ellie stop. Stop. It’s me,“ the man said grabbing her face. You slowed down, the cleaver still in your hand.
„He tried to… He tried to….“ Ellie stammered and you closed your eyes, releasing a shaky breath.
„Oh babygirl. It’s okay. It’s okay now,“ the man said and Ellie sobbed against him as he pulled her even closer.
It was then that he noticed you standing there, eyes narrowing as he put Ellie behind him.
When you could see his full face for the first time it was like you forgot how to breathe.
„Joel?“ You whispered in disbelief. He narrowed his eyes, about to approach you when there was a crash in the burning building behind you, making you jump.
„Mom!“ You heard Hannah yell and you turned your head to the side to watching your daughter run towards you, her husband Jamie close behind.
Her eyes widened as she looked at you, and you had forgotten that you probably looked like straight out of a nightmare with blood all over you.
„Oh my god mom,“ she cried when she reached you, her hands brushing all over your face.
„Not my blood,“ you mumbled, giving her a small smile before you looked at the man who was standing behind her, still looking at you, as if trying to figure out who you were.
„We gotta get out of here. They are gonna come after us,“ Jamie said as he reached you, his hand taking Hannah’s.
It was in that moment that Joel said your name. And everyone turned their heads towards him, Ellie now next to him, one of his arms keeping her to his side.
His eyes were on you, before he looked at Hannah who had turned around, pistol raised at him. He looked between you and Hannah for what felt like minutes.
You knew what he saw. And you could see the moment he realised who was standing in front of him.
Hannah was the spitting image of him. She had his eyes and his dark curly hair.
„Joel….“ You said, taking a step towards him but Jamie stopped you while Hannah looked at you with wide eyes.
„Joel?“ She asked and you looked at her and nodded. She knew who her father was. You had talked about him a lot when she was little.
„We don’t have time for that. We gotta get out of here,“ Jamie repeated and you looked at him.
„Where is Carl?“ You asked and Jamie only shook his head lips tight, instant tears filling your eyes. You blinked them away, before you took a deep breath.
„Okay. Okay. We gotta leave. You can come with us,“ you said towards Ellie and Joel. The latter shaking his head, while Jamie protested.
„She saved me, Joel,“ Ellie said quietly and he closed his eyes, releasing a long breath. You only looked at Jamie who was about to argue with you when he saw the pleading look Hannah gave him.
„Okay fine. But we gotta leave. Now.“
Joel hadn’t said more than two sentences towards you, Hannah and Jamie since you made it to the spot Carl had set up two days later. There was supposed to be a car stashed there, but it was gone and Jamie was trying to figure out what to do next.
Night time was approaching and you were tired.
„We should settle down close to the lake and decide what to do in the morning. No point walking through the night, when we do not have any clue where to go,“ you said.
„We have to get further away. I can’t risk them coming after us,“ Jamie insisted.
„Jamie, we lit the whole fucking town on fire two days ago. If anyone survives, do you think they don’t have something better to so than to come after us?“ You snapped, patience wearing thin.
„Do whatever the fuck you want, but I need to wash off David’s blood. I never want to ever be thinking about him again,“ you said, suddenly irritated as you made your way down to the shore of the small lake you had found.
„She’s mine isn’t she?“ You were startled by Joel’s voice as you sat at the shore, dressed in fresh clothes you had brought, clean from all the blood and dirt.
You didn’t turn around to look at him.
„Yeah,“ you said and you heard him breath in deeply.
„Fuck,“ he whispered and you couldn’t help but chuckle. You felt him sit down next to you and you risked a glance at him.
He was older, you were too.
The last twenty years hadn’t been kind to either of you, but you were pretty sure Joel was even more attractive than back when you met for the first time.
And he still had that stubborn spot that grew no hair on his cheek.
But he looked tired.
You just sat beside each other, watching the sun set behind the lake, the sky turning pink.
„Never thought I’d see you again,“ he said and you smiled sadly.
„Was’t even sure you’d remember me,“ you said and he scoffed.
„Really hard to not remember you, darlin’“ he said and you turned your head to look at him fully, giving him a small smile.
„Likewise, Cowboy,“ you said and he chuckled, before he flinched.
„You okay?“ You said concerned.
„Yeah. Got stabbed some days ago by one of these lunatics in town,“ he said, pointing towards his belly.
„Can I… Can I see?“ You asked.
He shrugged, before he laid down. As soon as you laid eyes on his wound you knew something was wrong. It was red and irritated.
„I don’t think that look too good, Joel,“ you said with concern.
„Survived worse,“ he said as he pulled his shirt down.
„I’m sure you have but….“
„I’m okay. Promise,“ he said.
You let it go for the moment and looked away from him as he sat himself up with a groan.
„Was planning to ask you out officially the next day, you know,“ he said after a while and you sighed.
„I would have said yes,“ you whispered into the darkness as you let your head all against his shoulder.
As it turned out Joel was indeed not okay.
All of you decided the next day that you would make your way to Jackson, the town Joel had told you about. It would be at least a week by foot and you were not looking forward to being on the road that long with the snow coming down like that.
He used the time on the road to tell Ellie everything (Hannah is your daughter? No way, she’s way too cool to be your kid) and got to know Hannah. He talked to Jamie and let them tell him their story. He also talked to you, but every time he asked about how you ended up in Silver Lake and what happened after you closed up and walked away from him.
You weren’t ready to talk about that. You weren’t sure you were ever ready to talk about that.
It was on day five that Joel had issues waking up.
You had taken watch over for him when you couldn’t wake him up. You thought he was tired, him having taken watch every night since you left. Now it was morning and you could see that he was sweating. Carefully reaching up you touched his forehead, feeling him burning up.
„Mom?“ You heard Hannah.
„He’s burning up,“ you said quietly, not wanting to disturb Ellie who was still sleeping. Hannah came to kneel down beside him, feeling it herself.
„He got stabbed by the men David sent out to the university last week. He said he was fine…“ you said and she nodded.
„I have to see the wound,“ she said. You nodded as he got up to her feet, walking over towards Jamie, waking him up. They both came and knelt beside Joel, Jamie already reaching for his fathers backpack he had managed to take, full of medical supplies.
„Oh shit,“ Hannah said as you had Joel’s belly exposed, her hands also reaching into the backpack to get some supplies.
It looked worse. Much worse.
„It’s infected. We gotta open up the stitches. Here, grab this,“ Jamie said towards Hannah. You let the two of them work while you held Joel’s hand.
Not fifteen minutes later Jamie injected some antibiotics into Joel’s arm while Hannah wrapped his wound.
„There’s nothing more we can do. He needs rest and medication,“ Jamie said and you nodded. It was then that Ellie woke up, immediately concerned as she saw you all kneeling next to Joel.
„Is he dead?“ She asked and you shook your head.
„No. But he needs rest. The stab wound got infected,“ you explained and she sucked her bottom lip in, nervously.
„Ellie, do you think you can find the way to Jackson to get help?“ You asked.
„No,“ Hannah said, shaking her head.
„I think I can. We just gotta find the huge lake. It should be close by now. It was three or four days until Jackson once we found the lake,“ Ellie said, ignoring her.
You nodded.
„I want you, Hannah and Jamie to get to Jackson as quickly as possible and get help. We need something to help get Joel back to Jackson. I will wait here. Jamie can show me how to tend to the wound and how to get him the antibiotics,“ you said.
Hannah shook her head.
„You don’t have any supplies. We can’t just leave you here,“ she said.
„And you can’t just stay here and wait until he gets better,“ the if he gets better was implied with the way you looked at her. She had tears in her eyes and you gave her a small smile.
„You have not only yourself to think about anymore, Hannah. You need to get to safety too,“ you reached towards her belly and she released a shuddering breath.
„Oh shit,“ Ellie said with wide eyes as she realised what you meant and Jamie chuckled.
„I don’t like this,“ Hannah mumbled.
„Me neither. But I’ll survive a week out here. We’re close to water, you saw the stream yesterday, I can hunt, and we saw this abandoned cabin not far away from here. We could get back to it, clear it, and I’ll wait for you there until you can get back. It’s gonna be okay,“ you promised.
You looked at Jamie who nodded at you, and reached for Hannah.
„We’ll get your Dad some help so you can get to know him,“ he whispered and you smiled at them both.
„Well let’s fucking go to the lake of death then!“ Ellie said and you all frowned.
„It’s… It’s a joke. I swear,“ she said.
Joel was in and out of consciousness for four days before he woke up for longer period of times during the day. He told you it was stupid to stay back with I’m and not leave with the kids and you only told him that you weren’t ready to leave him again.
You feel asleep in his arms that night, allowing yourself to let your guard down, passing out almost immediately when he told you that he got you. That he’d stay awake.
The following days went buy slowly. You continued taking care of Joel, his wound looking much better. You went hunting, coming back with some rabbits. Joel was on his feet by day six, taking slow walks with you towards the stream where he washed up.
And you talked.
You talked about everything that happened since the day you parted.
You learned about Sarah’s death, holding him as he shed some tears. You learned how he changed, how he did things he was not proud of to keep bis brother safe. You learned about how Ellie who he had been trusted to take to a group called the fireflies slowly brought back his old self.
You in return told him about finding out that you were pregnant while you were in the temporal Austin QZ. About how you gave birth to Hannah the day before the QZ fell, leaving you on the road with a new born until you found a settlement when Hannah was almost a year old close to Denver where you stayed until it was overrun by infected.
You showed him the few pictures of her as a baby you had, drying his tears as he looked at them.
You told him in as few words as possible what happened in the years you were at Silver Lake, seeing him angry on your behalf.
You woke up on the seventh day with his arm around your back, both of your laying on your side, facing each other. He was already looking at you when you opened your eyes, giving you a soft smile.
And before you could stop yourself you closed the distance between the two of you, pressing your lips against his in a soft kiss. Resting your forehead against his you closed your eyes, one of your hands brushing through his hair.
„Sometimes I allowed myself to dream what would have become of us if the outbreak hadn’t happened,“ he whispered.
„And what happened to us in those dreams?“ You asked, opening your eyes. He kissed you again, humming.
„We would have dated for seven months before I popped the question,“ he said.
„Why seven months?“ You asked.
„It’s my lucky number,“ he mumbled and you chuckled.
„Sarah would have loved you. We would have gotten married, her as the flower girl. We would have gotten a bigger house, cause I’d have you pregnant by the time we were married,“ he said with a small smile.
„Would have had at least two kids more before you said you were done and I would have gotten the snip so I could still fuck you everywhere without getting you pregnant again,“ he said and kissed your nosed.
„Lots of baby making in your dreams, Miller,“ you teased and he laughed.
„I’m only a man, what can I say?“ He shrugged before he kissed you again, deepening the kiss.
„You still have that piercing down there?“ He mumbled against your lips and a shudder ran down your body.
„Why don’t you find out?“ You whispered, feeling him smile as one of his hand made their way down your body, his fingertips slipping over your stomach. He was about to push his fingers further down when a noise outside startled you, making you jump up and grab your knife.
„Joel!“ You heard a voice yell outside and you relaxed.
„In here, Tommy,“ Joel yelled back, giving you a sheepish expression before the door opened and a man stepped inside, you hadn’t seen in twenty years.
Tommy lowered his gun as soon as he saw only you and Joel inside the cabin.
„Well fuck me, I never though I’d ever see the girl my brother was pining over like a teenager twenty years ago ever again,“ he said with a wide smile and you raised your eyebrow, looking at Joel who rolled his eyes, yet his cheeks seemed a little flushed.
Tommy hugged you tight before he let go and walked over to his brother. They were whispering with each other, when Jamie walked in.
„You’re okay?“ He asked.
You nodded, and he hugged you quickly.
„Left Hannah home. Can you believe it? We get our own house. With running water. Warm Water!“ He said, excited. You laughed, squeezing his shoulder.
You turned back to Joel, who was now standing next to Tommy.
„We got a long ride in front of us. Best we get back as quickly as we can,“ Tommy said.
"Gonna check his injury first, and then we can be on our way,“ Jamie said, already walking over to Joel.
„Can’t believe you’re here. Can’t believe I have another niece,“ Tommy said as you stepped outside with him after you gotten your coat and shoes on. He took your backpack from you, fastening it somewhere to one of the horses staying in front of you.
„I can’t believe it either,“ you said.
„Can’t believe Joel’s gonna be a granddad,“ Tommy chuckled and you did too.
„Fuck I’m gonna be a grandma,“ you groaned, feeling every year of your age.
„Also gonna be an aunt. Wife is due in the next two weeks. So we better get the fuck back before she skins me alive,“ he said and you nodded.
You turned back when you heard Joel and Jaime talk, the latter helping Joel down the stairs.
„You good to ride?“ Tommy asks his brother. He nodded.
„Might need a little help getting up on the horse though,“ he said. Tommy nodded, walking over towards the third horse that you were standing in front of.
„You riding with me?“ Joel asked.
You nodded.
„Sure,“ you said. It took some help, but you got on top of the horse, having never been on one before. You didn’t know what to do, already freaking out a little, when Tommy and Jamie helped Joel on the horse behind you, his arms immediately coming around you, pulling you closer. He grabbed the reins, clicking his tongue once and the horse turned around.
You watched Jamie and Tommy get on their horses too before Tommy rode up on front.
„Gonna take us at least three days. Let’s get the fuck out of here,“ he said and rode forwards.
„Ready to go home?“ Joel whispered against your ear.
You let yourself rest against his shoulder, your head turning up so you could look at him.
„Haven’t had a home in twenty years,“ you said quietly.
„You have now,“ he hummed, kissing your temple before he moved the horse, following Tommy.
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#my fic#joel miller#Joel Miller x fem. reader#pedro pascal#fanfiction#fanfic#fan fiction#tlou fanfiction#pedro pascal characters
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A fic-lit about Danny working at the watchtower, not as a superhero but as an engineer.
This is based on an prompt I read months ago but cant find where Danny put that he was a halfa on his resume but the hiring manager didn’t pay attention to it and hired him anyway. Rather than that its just Danny working at the watchtower and vibing on break when a tiny Robin finds him in the viewing deck.
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Danny had been working for the justice league watchtower for a couple of months. He has seen hero’s come and go, paying him no mind and he was absolutely living for it! Unlike at 14, he was just a simple, normal worker—despite being half dead and the next in line for the crown in the infinite realms—he is just a simple mechanical engineer, Danny Nightingale. No one to fight, no one to save, just a big space station that needed someone to help keep it up in space.
And that's another bonus to this job; Space!
He gets to spend his shift up in the stars, looking out at the cold expanse of their solar system. Admiring the earth from a whole new angle, and he is getting paid to do it! Sure he could go into space any time, but being able to spend a good portion of his time here really made his core sing in joy. When he was on break he would wander around the areas he had clearance to go into, looking out every window at every star. Cataloging the ships movement through space with sharp eyes. His favorite place to go is the viewing deck, it was exactly what it sounded like, a place to just go and view that space outside.
It was there that Danny decided to take his break today, the Watchtower was at just the right angle to be able to see the earth from the viewing deck. Danny smiled watching the planet he lived on from afar, this really was the best job he could have ended up with!
A few months back he was having a hard time finding work after college, sure he had all the proper qualifications for the positions he applied for. But due to his medical condition—being half dead with a slow almost nonexistent heartbeat—they all refused him, afraid that his heart wouldn't keep up if he left the atmosphere to board any of the space stations orbiting the earth. To be fair it wouldn't have, he tested it by flying up to the moon and back the old fashioned way. But he couldn't just tell them that; being an ecto entity was still a crime that he was just barely able to get away from at age eighteen.
He came out to his parents once he graduated high school, they reacted poorly. Danny’s mom saw red and tried to kill him the rest of the way, claiming that Danny was just a ghost “piloting” his corpse around. Danny’s dad just stayed silent and watched, but before maddie could really do anything he acted. Jack knocked Maddie out with a strong blow to the back of her head. Danny remembered the hope that he had when Jack did that, but after he looked up at the man that hope died in his chest. The man looked torn, both angry and sad and in a voice lacking any of the familiar warmth said, “leave before she wakes up.” And he turned to pick up Maddie and made his way up the stairs. It was because of his dad that he was able to get away because after that Danny Fenton was declared dead. With the help of Sam and Tucker he was able to make a new identity for himself and go to school. From that day on Danny decided to move on and never look back.
After putting his name out there time and time again he was rejected. It wasn't until he got a letter in the mail saying he had been scheduled for an interview at Wayne tech of all places. He didn’t remember applying there but decided to go anyway, needing some sort of job to get him through. But when he got there he was greeted by Lucius Fox and Batman of all people! Danny nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw the dark knight, Danny couldn't help but think the worst. But before he could bolt, Lucius explained that Batman was looking for workers with the help of Wayne Industries for the base of operations for the Justice League—The Watchtower. Turns out all his applications to several different space programs caught the man’s attention. He even explained that Danny wouldn't even need to have a physical or get on a spaceship because The Watchtower utilized teleportation technology. Danny was so excited that he agreed on the spot without even knowing the benefits he would get from working with them. Which—surprising to no one—were a lot of benefits.
Danny was drawn from his thoughts when he heard the soft, almost nearly nonexistent footsteps coming from behind him. Danny turned and saw a child—no older than twelve—wearing a hero’s costume that looked like he was mimicking a traffic light. The kid froze in his tracks when Danny turned to face him, the two staring at each other for a few moments before the kid smiled and waved at him.
“Hi,” the kid beamed at Danny, “I’m D—Robin!”
Danny lifted a brow, “you a part of the justice league?” He asked, not remembering a kid being a part of their team.
The kid shook his head, “No, my guardian is though!” He explained.
“Ah, neat,” Danny said nonshalontly as he turned back to look at the window, “you come to see the view?” He asked.
The kid walked farther into the room and gasped when he got a better look at said view. “Woah—”, he exclaimed, now standing next to Danny.
Danny looked beside him to see the stars reflecting off of the kids' eyes, “cool isn't it? I come here on my lunch breaks," Danny says.
The kid looked at him and then squinted suspiciously, “if you're at lunch where is your food?” He asked.
Danny smiled, “I forgot my lunch at home today,” Danny lied, seeing the stars gave him enough energy to continue going. He usually eats when he gets home.
“Really?” The kid asked with a raised brow.
Danny smiled and looked around to see if anyone else was there, when he saw no one he asked, “do you wanna hear a secret?” He asked. Robin looked around himself as well before he leaned down a bit so Danny could whisper into his ear, “I actually just absorb the energy from the stars to sustain myself.” He explained.
“Really?” Robin asked, looking at him again, trying to gauge if Danny was lying or not.
Danny smiled, “yep,” he said, popping the p, “that's why I got a job here, that way I won’t starve to death.” Danny grins.
“But cant you just look at the stars from earth?” Robin asked, tilting his head.
“I mean, sure,” Danny says with a shrug, looking back out the window, “but this is so much better, isn't it?”
Robin looked out the window, “yeah!” The boy exclaimed, “it's so much clearer up here than in Gotham.” He commented.
Danny smiled and looked back at the boy, “I live in Gotham, too.”
“Really?” Robin asked, “No wonder you come up here,” the boy commented, causing Danny to snort in laughter and it wasn't long before Robin joined him.
“You got that right,” Danny says with a smirk before something dawns on him, “Wait, hero from gotham? I didn't know Batman had a kid?” Robin looked away, Danny could feel his nerves and sadness pass through him.
Danny was about to tell him that he didn't have to talk about it but before he could get his words out Robin spoke up, “My parents died about a year ago… he took me in only recently, he decided to train me when I found out he was Batman,” the kid says looking down at his feet, a glare etched on his face, “i never got to avenge my parents, the murderer had a heart attack before I could even get to him….”
Danny reached out to the kid and placed his hand on Robin’s shoulder, Robin looked up at him—as if remembering that Danny was there with him.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Danny says softly, Robin looks away from him. “But I can tell you wholeheartedly, your parents are proud of you and what you are doing,” robin began rubbing at his mask, preventing him from wiping the tears away from his eyes underneath. “Here,” Danny says as he goes to pick up the 12 year old, “let's get you back to the Big Black Bat, I bet he is looking for you.”
Danny sits Robin on his hip and walks out of the room, rubbing circles into the child’s back. They walk together in silence, Robin resting his head in the crook of Danny's neck. “…Thank you,” Robin mumbles.
“Don't mention it kid,” Danny says as he looks around the corridor trying to spot anyone who could help him get this kid to the upper levels, “I know what it's like to lose your parents….”
“Really?” Robin asked, his head lifting off of Danny’s shoulder.
“Yeah,” Danny says, “they didn't die, but they basically said they never wanted to see me again.”
Robin gasped, “that's not nice!” Robin declared making Danny laugh again.
“Your right,” Danny agrees as he turns down another hall towards where the zeta tubes were, maybe someone in there could help. “But, now I'm here, having the time of my life with the job of my dreams.”
Robin smiled again, “you could say you're living the HIGH life.”
Danny paused in the hall and started snickering, “that was a good one, Birdy.”
“Birdy?” Robin asked.
“Yeah, your name is Robin, that's a bird, so Birdy,” Danny explained, “its a nickname
“Does that make us friends?” Robin asked.
“Sure, as long as your guardian is ok with it.”
The boy smiled happily, excited at the idea of having made a new friend. The calm was interrupted but Danny’s supervisor yelled from across the room, “Nightingale!” He shouts, causing Danny to jump.
Danny turns to look at the man, “hey boss—” he starts, blocking Robin from the man, not wanting to scare the kid.
“You are late to clock back in! You're not getting paid to sit around with your head in the clouds!” The man shouts.
“Sorry sir, I was—”
“No! You need to get back to work, NOW!” He demanded, “this is a multibillion dollar space station, everything needs to be on a strict schedule!”
Danny sighed, his supervisor hasn't liked Danny from day one. Something about him being “young and nïeve” or something like that; “head higher up into space than we were right now.” At least that's what Danny heard him say about him once or twice.
Danny was about to talk back when something just past his manager caught his eye. It was Batman, walking fast with a look that told everyone to get out of the way. But Danny could feel the worry bleed off the man in waves. Must be looking for Robin, Danny’s mind supplied. Danny sidesteps his supervisor and shouts, “Hey Batman!” To catch the dark knight’s attention. Danny had to restrain his laughter when he saw the look of horror pass on his supervisor's face.
Now with the vigilanties cold glare focused on him, Danny smiled and adjusted his stance to show Robbin to him. “Looking for you kid?” Danny asked.
Robin smiled nervously and waved at Batman, guess he wasn’t supposed to wander off like he did. “Hey B!” He shouts.
Batman’s glare softens so slightly, a regular person would have missed it. However, Danny could feel the man’s previous anxieties melt away into a strong relief. Batman strutted forward and glared down at Danny—despite Danny being taller than him. Danny just smiled and adjusted Robin on him so he could hand him over to the dark knight.
Now in Batman’s arms, Robin tapped his pointer fingers together nervously. “Sorry for wandering off,” he mumbled before his smile came back full force, “but,” he exclaimed, “I made a friend! His name is Danny and he liked my puns! And we both have bird names!” He exclaimed all while pointing at Danny.
Batman looked from the kid in his arms to Danny, “hmm,” he grumbled. A man of few words, Batman nods at Danny.
Danny nodded back, “He’s a good kid, glad I was able to help.” Danny replied. Feeling gratitude from that small gesture alone. Batman isn't the most expressive but being able to read emotions like Danny really helps when talking to people.
Batman turns his head to look over at Danny’s superior, “hmm.” After that Batman turned and walked away.
Robin climbed to sit up on Batman’s shoulder and waved back at Danny, “Bye bird buddy! Have a good day!” He shouts as Batman enters the elevator. The doors closing behind them and leaving the zeta tube control center in near silence.
Danny looked back to his supervisor who looked as pale as a sheet ghost, Danny gave him a shit eating grin and shrugged at him. “I tried to tell ya—”
“Get back to work Nightingale!” He shouts.
“Ok, ok, I'm going.” Danny says, turning on his heels and walking away from the man with his hands held up in surrender.
—
I have so many ideas for this au and if I write more I might post it on my AO3 feel free to read other things I posted on there!
#fun#dp x dc#dpxdc#crossover#ficlit#robin!dick#dick grayson#danny fenton#goes by Nightingale#disowned by parents in au#my au my rules#the watchtower#watchtower worker!Danny#ghost prince danny#he wont officially be crowned king until he fully dies#dcxdp#dcxdp crossover#bruce and danny are the same age becaue i said so#may make it gay#who am i kidding#its already gay#:3#>:3#uwu
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Steve comes from a long line of only children. He’s the last one standing after his mother dies, left alone on a barren family tree. This deep longing for an extended family made a home in Steve’s soul at a young age. For so long, it was only Steve and his mother. She raised him as best she could, but Steve never wanted that lonely existence.
Finding someone that would want that life with him didn’t pan out the way he thought it would. Dating in Hawkins was limited and if he wanted to be truthful with people, also dangerous. Robin was the best dating app mishap turned best friend Steve could’ve hoped for, and she encouraged him to look into solo parenting, promising to be his platonic coparent every step of the way.
Before his transition, he started a grueling IVF journey. Wanted to quit more times than he wanted to carry on. It didn’t take the first time, and Robin was there to hold him when he wasn’t sure he could handle another round of it. They didn’t know how lucky they’d get the second time.
Dustin was born just after Thanksgiving that year, and he turned into a precocious toddler faster than Steve could blink. He had this mass of hair that Steve was in awe of, the height definitely coming from him but the curls were a mystery gift from their donor. Steve loved his chubby cheeks and toothless smile more than anything on earth.
Everything about Dustin brightened up Steve’s world, even when his screams kept Steve and Robin awake all night, or he spit up on Steve’s shirt right before work and he had to change into a questionably dirty shirt because he hadn’t had time for laundry. Steve loved it all. He especially loved how smart his kid was, shooting straight to the top of his class, reading above grade level, doing math equations faster than Steve could comprehend. Robin joked that the donor must have some strong nerd genes to come from Steve and be that much of a math genius.
He doesn’t actually know much about the donor, other than the recording he has from the interview and a brief profile of his family’s medical history. It might be silly, but Steve ended up picking this donor because of his laugh. It was melodic, ringing in the air long after he finished laughing, and something about it pulled at Steve’s heart in a way the others didn’t.
Steve doesn’t hide much from Dustin, there’s no point really when your kid’s a genius, but he doesn’t give Dustin the file until he turns 11, doesn’t even hint at it. While Dustin is a curious kid, he’s also got a knack for knowing when to press an issue or not. He had a lot of questions about the process, but always shied away from asking more about how Steve chose or who his donor was. When they finally talked about it as Steve handed over the file to Dustin on his eleventh birthday, Dustin said he always knew Steve chose to have him and that was all that mattered.
But once he gets his hands on that file, the curiosity voyage sets sail and Dustin’s chasing leads on who this man is like he’s in an episode of scooby doo. The agency will only give them the contact information they had on file 12 years ago. It’s a long shot, expecting someone’s number to be the same, but it’s all they have. A single phone number.
When a gruff voice answers the phone and Steve explains the situation, the man on the other line agrees to meet them. The address he gives is for the Munson ranch about an hour outside of town. He knows about the ranch in the same way everyone in a small town knows of each other. He’s never been there, but the owner brings a lot of money into the town and mostly keeps to himself. His nephew was a few years ahead of Steve in school, but they never crossed paths.
It turns out there’s only one Munson left in Hawkins, and Steve’s pretty sure the bald man that’s twice Steve’s age and looks down his nose at Steve and Dustin, isn’t the donor. Recognition sparks in his eyes, though, when Dustin starts talking, some of that defensiveness melting off his face. It’s softening into the same fondness Steve has when looking at Dustin, that inescapable way he pulls you into his orbit and snatches your heart right up. He lets Dustin take the reins, watching Wayne fall under Dustin’s spell.
His first words after Dustin’s long rambling opener about their predicament are, “Your hair looks just like his at that age.”
Hope blooms in Steve’s chest. He’d been afraid that they wouldn’t find anything, or what they found might disappoint Dustin. But there’s someone out there that’s half of Dustin. Someone that might have given him all these little quirks that Steve’s so fond of. Someone that might want to be a part of his life, even if Steve isn’t sure he’s ready for that.
Wayne explains that his nephew is out of town with his band, touring somewhere until the end of the month when they come home for the holidays. That’s only two weeks away and it doesn’t give Steve long to prepare for meeting someone that helped bring the best thing into his life, but it’s enough time for Wayne to welcome them into his home with an open heart.
It’s just long enough for Steve to find out that Eddie grew up on the ranch with Wayne and his father, who abandoned them when Eddie was about Dustin’s age. To find out that Eddie always loved music more than the horses and took off the first chance he got once he had the funds. To see pictures along a mantle of another precocious kid with a wild mane of hair that looks about as unstoppable as Dustin.
Robin comes with them the night they’re going to meet Eddie. It’s a few days after he’s returned from tour. Wayne wanted enough time to prepare him before getting Dustin’s hopes all the way up. When they got the okay, Steve wasn’t sure he could do it alone, so Robin is glued to his side when they pull up at the ranch and come face to face with Edde Munson.
But Steve relaxes when he sees the same wide grin on Eddie’s face that he sees on Dustin’s every day. And he doesn’t know it yet, but maybe he’s finally filled out that family tree and found the home he never knew he needed, with branches for Robin, Dustin, and maybe two Munsons.
#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#steddie#katie writes#dustin henderson#wayne munson#robin buckley
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