#The anatomy is trash i just needed this point across

[sukisukidaysook]

If you piss off Lukyan he pulls shit like this btw. And yes if I made sprites there would be a set where he flips over his mirror to point it at you in order to make a point.

[alpacaparkaseok]

Pairing: doctor!Jungkook x reader (ok, technically clinical technician!Jungkook lol)

Wordcount: 1.6k

Genre/Rating: Fluff! strangers to friends to a lil’ more 👀👀

Tags/Warnings: mentions blood just for a moment (when talking about JK’s work). shouldn’t be anything too crazy, Jungkook is just your annoying new neighbor that sings abnoxiously loud in the shower. oh, and did I mention that the two of you share a wall? 

a/n: You wonderful, beautiful people! This post is a commission for the ARMY for AAPI Justice and Advocacy Event. Please click here to find more resources and consider donating to the cause! And THANK YOU @ezralia-writes for commissioning this! *insert round of applause and flowers* I hope you enjoy!

April 23rd

You should’ve known it was too good to be true.

You’d been living in utter bliss for the past six months, having moved across the city to a relatively quiet part of town. You had a neighbor; you were sure of it. Had seen their car in the parking lot too many times to not have one.

It’s just, you never heard them. Let alone saw them.

Which was completely fine. The loud, obnoxious lifestyle people usually adopted in a city as bustling as Seoul had never suited you anyway. For six months, you basked in the glorious silence from your next door neighbor. The only signal that you ever got that they were even there was the occasional time you’d both be showering at the same time. Your bathrooms shared a wall, which you tried to ignore. Thankfully, your neighbor seemed to ignore it as well.

So why is there a man suddenly belting out I Will Always Love You as though performing a one-man tribute to Whitney Houston?

The sound of his booming voice nearly knocked you off your feet as you made quick work of shaving your legs. Surely he must have heard your shower running! Can’t a woman get some peace and quiet on a Friday morning?! There’s nothing to celebrate yet!

You even make a point of clearing your throat loud enough to be heard on the other side of the wall, but he doesn’t falter in his loud, albeit dazzling, rendition of the song. He pauses for a second, giving you just enough time to let out a sigh of relief and begin on your other leg.

Leg soapy and ready to be shaved, you make it halfway through one swipe before the singing starts up again.

He only paused to switch songs. Whitney Houston tribute over, he begins a passionate ode to Adele’s greatest hits.

“What did I do to deserve this?” You sigh, resolving to finish up before the song is over and you’re subjected to another.

May 1st

           It begins innocently enough. After a week of subjecting you to his siren-like voice, there’s a knock on your door. Of course, you assume it’s the food you’d ordered, so you just finish throwing your sweatshirt on before wrenching the door open.

           “Hey,” you look up to tell the deliverer that you just need to grab your wallet, but your mouth runs dry at the sight before you.

           Grinning with a friendly smile that might be a bit of overkill, a boy – nah, a whole man if we’re being honest here – gives you a sheepish wave. His long brown hair is falling into his eyes, which he meticulously brushes off to the side.

           “Hey! You must be my neighbor!” When you keep staring at him with what you hope is a look of neutrality, he flushes a deep red. “I- er, I mean, obviously. That was kind of dumb of me…”

           “You’re not the food guy?” It’s the only you can think to say, willing your eyes to focus in on his face and not the way his sweatshirt and sweats look on him. “Uh…I mean, yeah. Neighbors.”

           The man before you lets out an adorable chuckle at your silly comment. “Oh, good. I’m not the only awkward one here.”

           “Woah! I’m not awkward! I’m just hungry!” You cry out, making him only laugh harder.

           “I’m Jungkook, by the way,” he says, nose crinkling as you look at him with wide eyes. So this is what was on the other side of the wall, belting out Mariah Carey this morning. “I just moved in last week, and realized that I haven’t even come over to say hello. You know, like a friendly neighbor should.”

           “Hey, Jungkook.” You look around, wondering if there’s anyone else outside witnessing this incredibly awkward first meeting. “I, uh, well…I’m me.”

           He snorts. “Yeah, I know. I’m assuming your name is the one on the mailbox? Next to mine?”

           We have mailboxes??

           “Oh, ha! Yeah, that’d be it.” You shuffle back and forth on your feet, unsure of what to say next. “Well, I thought you were the delivery service-“

           “I just delivered food, too!” Jungkook says with a grin. He runs his hands up and down his arms even though it’s not cold outside. “I was thinking that…you know, we could eat together? I actually ended up ordering extra, but it looks like that wasn’t necessary.”

           You grin, settling against your doorframe. “Ah, so you’re here to woo me with takeout? You should’ve just said so.”

           It looks like Jungkook’s considering moving again. He swallows thickly, eyes flitting over to you before staring down at your floor. “Actually…I heard you watching TV…were you watching Wanda Vision?” When you nod, he sucks in a breath. “It’s just, I haven’t bought a TV yet, and-“

          “Oh, tough luck. Good luck with that.” You burst out into a fit of giggles at the tentative look in his eyes. Silently forgiving him for all those mornings that doubled as musicals over the past week, you wing the door open a little wider and gesture for him to come inside. “Come in, I need someone to bounce theories off anyways.”

           That’s all it takes before Jungkook is bounding inside, settling down on your couch with an air of comfortability that seems so at odds with his shy nature. Then again, everything about him seems to contradict his shy smile.

           You like it.

June 2nd

What originally started as a simple friendship; Jungkook brought food and you let him have the remote; quickly turned into constant interaction. You learned that he had a roommate that was hardly ever home named Taehyung. He has a brother that he visits every other month. He works as clinical technician, but he’s known more for his beautiful voice more than his title as doctor.

Apparently he was known in the lab for singing little lullabies to the glass flasks containing different samples of blood and other fluids, even occasionally chatting with them as though they were avidly listening.

The more you learned, the more you really wished your old neighbor never moved out in the first place. Especially as you slipped on some shoes to take out the trash one night only to run face first into a familiar chest.

“Jungkook,” you groan, rubbing your nose and peeking up at the boy-like grin he wears. “What was that for?“

You step around him, closing the door to your apartment and heading down the stairs to where the dumpsters were located. “My bad. I was just about to knock.”

He matches your stride, hair whipping about in the wind. You realize that he’s wearing his lab coat, making you furrow your brows. “Aren’t you supposed to leave that at the lab?” You ask, pointing to the white coat.

Jungkook pouts, looking down at his coat as though just remembering that he was still wearing it. “Oh, well I have to wash it, you know. I brought it home with me today.”

“Ok…but why are you still wearing it?” You give him a half-smile as he reaches to open the lid to the dumpster, allow you to throw your trash inside.

Jungkook blinks, as though this latest question completely threw him for a loop. “Uh…I thought it might help.”

“With what?”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “You think doctors are sexy, don’t you?”

           “What?!” You choke out quite literally, beginning to cough. “Who- I never said that!”

           Jungkook grins maliciously. “Yeah, but I heard you watching Grey’s Anatomy the other day. And it was on your recently watched.”

           You begin to walk away, waving him off. “That doesn’t mean anything, Jungkook. So what? It’s just a show.”

           Running ahead of you, Jungkook bounds up the first few steps before turning around to face you again, effectively cutting off your escape route. “Be honest. You don’t find them the least bit sexy? This coat does nothing for you?” He runs his hands down the lapels for emphasis.

           You attempt to push past him. “What is even happening today?” Jungkook stops you in your tracks, hands on your upper arms and trapping you against the railing.

           “I thought I might as well give myself a chance,” he mumbles, head tilted to one side as he takes in the way you’re staring up at him with utter confusion. “Don’t you wanna go out with a doctor?”

           You blink slowly. “You…you’re setting me up with a doc-“

           “Yah!” Jungkook groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “How many way do I have to say it? I want you to be the Wanda to my Vision!”            “Jungkook, we’ve talked about this…” you sigh, hiding your laugh at his impatience. “They have a toxic relationship, why would I want that?”

           “Don’t make me do this!” Jungkook whines, cheeks turning pink. “Just tell me yes or no!”

           “To what?” You ask, feigning ignorance. “I don’t even know what you’re asking.”

           “Nooo, you do,” Jungkook presses in closer as though that’ll help you understand. “I want you and I to…to…you know, I think we’d be good together.”

           You frown. “Aren’t we together right now?”

           “I swear-“ Jungkook takes a step back, sighing up at the sky. You snap your fingers, having a sudden epiphany.

           “Oh, you mean together like we start singing duets in the morning through the wall?”

           He blinks before bursting out into a fit of laughter. “I…yeah! Exactly!”

           “No. But I will let you take me out on a date.” You give him a long look. “I’ve never been kissed by a doctor before, you know.”

           Jungkook turns an impressive shade of red. “O-oh. You haven’t?”

           “Nope,” you pop the ‘p’. Turning to head up the stairs, you leave him in his shock. “Wonder what it’s like.”

           Taking off in a run, you only get about a two second head start before Jungkook overtakes you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you in close, wide eyes eating up every inch of your skin.

           Tilting your chin up, he breathes out, “Well, why don’t we change that?”

masterlist

commission a request!

[blownbybakugou]

Office Hours

Pairing: Shouto Todoroki x Reader

warnings: CEO!Shouto AU, FEM! Anatomy, breeding kink, hair pulling, oral (m! receiving), unprotected sex, praise kink, slight voyeurism. 

Word Count: 2.6k

A/n: Took me all day to write, I even pulled an all nighter because the ideas were swarming inside of my head. So I was just chilling at two am with Rick and Morty on, typing away. Probably disturbing my neighbors and my roommate, but whatever.

This day had been mildly annoying. Your new coworker had claimed to have been sleeping with your boss, saying she would have you fired by giving him a blowjob, and then continued to shred the paperwork you had worked on all week. You were in near tears from the stressful events of this week, and everyone, including the bitch could see that if anything else went wrong, you would snap. You could clearly hear the annoying pitter-patter of the horrid woman's shoes against the black marble heading towards your cubicle, making you groan in exasperation. "What do you want, Neca?" You sigh, your bloodshot eyes glaring at her smug face. "I have to leave early, so you'll have my work" Your eye twitched. The audacity this lady had was getting on your last nerve. "I'm not doing your work after you shredded mine, especially if you'll get the credit. Now leave. I'm trying to finish my work so I can go home." You look back down to your work, but your head is suddenly yanked back up by your hair. "Go home to what, exactly? You're single, you have no kids and no pets. You can put in the extra hours, and you don't need the extra money. So stop being a bitch, and get over it. I have a date with the boss, so I'll be leaving now" Neca slams down a fresh stack of papers for you to revise and categorize and walks over to the elevator, leaving you here to deal with her work. You looked at the clock on your desk, seeing that in only two hours it would be midnight. Era, too late for you to be at work. You yawn and take your pencil back in your hand to begin your reviewing, already dreading the outcome of this night.

At around 11:30, you got up to go to the breakroom for a new cup of coffee, and you swore you could feel your eyebags darkening by the second. Everyone had left at about 11:00, which left you here completely by yourself. Even the janitor had checked out for the night, handing you the building keys and telling you to lock up when you go home. You take a big swig of the luke-warm beverage, praying to the gods that you would finish your work faster so you could get some sleep. You look out the break-room window at the 12-inch stack of documents you had to look over, realizing you'd be lucky if you got to leave at 3:00. You gulp down half of the coffee, toss the empty disposable cup into the trash bin, and tread back to your personal hellhole. You were concentrating as hard as you could, but even when you were zoned out, you could clearly hear the sound of the elevator going up, and stopping at your floor. Your eyes widen, looking over to the clock that read 1:00 am and then trying to think of who would be here this late but only came up with fear and panic. You shake wildly as you watch the polished silver doors slide open slowly, and then you see the expensive leather shoes step out. Your breath hitched. You were somehow more afraid than before, seeing your boss look over to you, and begin to walk over. He stopped in front of your chair, looking down on you with suspicion and confusion in his eyes. "What are you doing here so late, L/n?" Your throat quickly becomes dry, making it harder to speak. "I, um, p-paperwork." You attempt to explain, pointing to the now 10-inch tall pile with a quivering finger. "I didn't give you that much, who's work is that?" His deep voice asked. "Neca's, Mr. Todoroki. She said you guys had a date and asked me to finish up her paperwork. I'm sorry if I'm disturbing you." You explain, regaining your once lost composure. "We did not have a date. What happened here, is that she played you." Your brows furrow in frustration. So the hours you put in were for absolutely nothing? The fear of getting fired, the times she left because of the 'bosses demands', were all fake? "I...I'll finish it anyway, Mr. Todoroki. I promise I won't take too long." You mumble, turning back to the documents with clenched teeth. "No, I will call her right now. If she is going to rearrange your sleep schedule, I will rearrange hers." our heart warms at his kindness, as you thank him for his generosity. Todoroki pulls out an expensive-looking phone, scrolling for a while before holding it out, and putting it on speaker. On the second ring, Neca picks up. "Yes, Mr.Todoroki? Do you need me to come over or...?" She seemed insistent on wanting to come over to his home, but your boss shuts her down rapidly. "No. After many, many complaints and reports from the other employees, it has come to my attention that you have been passing your work onto Y/n L/n, as well as destroying the companies sacred files. I have called to confirm these suspicions." You both could hear shuffling on the other end on the line, and then you heard the buttered up voice speak. "Did Y/n tell you this? I didn't want you to find out this way, but Y/n has been skipping out on work and burning the company files. I didn't tell you because Y/n is such a dear friend to me and I didn't want her to get fired." Her obnoxiously fake sympathetic voice made you want to gag in disgust. The faux voice was way too sweet for her contrasting personality and the word 'friends' left a bitter taste in your mouth. "Oh? Well, if that's true then I have some interesting news. I'm at the office right now, looking at Y/n who has an 11-inch stack of papers that I certainly did not give to her. And by looking at one of the documents," Todoroki picks up one of the stapled worksheets and flips through it briefly before continuing. "These look like the oriented reference materials I asked you to finish before you left. Now, if you do not come to the office right now to complete your and Y/n's workload, I will fire you, and ruin all future opportunities for you to get a job. Am I clear?" The line goes silent, but then you hear a light sobbing sound accompanying a meek 'yes, boss'. He hung up and then gestured you into his workroom, silently closing the door behind him. "L/n, how long has this been going on for?" Todoroki asked calmly, sitting down in his exquisite black leather chair. "A week after she came here, sir." When you added the sir on the end, he seemed to flinch, shifting in his seat uncomfortably. "I see. Why didn't you inform me of this?" You take notice of how he had crossed his legs. It was almost as if he were trying to hide something from you, and that fact made you internally grin. "She said she was your lover, sir, and I didn't want to be fired for claiming against her." The CEO glares at you, warning you to not step further into this. "I can happily say that we are not in a relationship, nor are we participating in any...fun, activities." A playful glint flashes in your captivating orbs, seizing the boss's attention. "I am glad to hear that sir. Shall I take my leave then?" Todoroki's jaw stiffens, and his eyes darken. "Only if you want to. But I believe it to be bad to drive when tired, you could always sleep here, for convenience reasons." You wanted to agree. But you knew that Neca would arrive here shortly, and if you slept here, she would surely do something to get back at your tattling. "I'm not very tired, sir." You remark, standing to make an emphasis. Todoroki stands as well, showing off his delicious-looking bulge forming in his black slacks. "Oh really?" He walks around his desk, eyeing you like a predator would its prey. "Is there a problem, sir?" You ask, a smirk present in your expression. "No, but I think that I'll have to make you tired. You know, for convenience reasons." His face was a mere inch from yours, his breath gently fanning your face. He finally took initiative and grabbed the back of your neck to bring you into an electrifying kiss that made every nerve in your body tingle. You were swiftly flipped around and sat on his desk, your legs wrapped around his torso as he hungrily forced his tongue onto yours. They slid across each other in unison, sending hot flashes throughout both of your bodies at the amazing contact. "Mr.Todoroki, Neca will-" "What happened to sir?" Todoroki purred, sliding his warm hands up your blouse and playing with the hem of your bra. You start softly panting as they glide to your back, fiddling with the clasp. "S-Sir, Neca will be here any min-" "Stop being a brat, I'll deal with her when she gets here. But I think you should deal with the problem you made." Todoroki unbuttons his trousers, stripping himself of them before placing your hand on his clothed cock. "Why don't you get to work, and I might reward you with a bonus." You pushed down his black boxers, almost drooling when you see the length and girth of his dick. It was almost unreal, it couldn't be. He was huge and heavy. Even with him being fully erect his cock drooped and hung right above your mouth. You were starting to even wonder if he could fit inside of you. Todoroki was staring at you expectantly, so you carefully lifted your chin to take the head into your mouth and looked up at him with big, doe eyes. A subtle grunt is produced from your actions and you decide to take it a step further. You guide his dick down your throat, feeling his width stretch out the walls of your windpipe and block your source of oxygen. You pull back, watching as strings of your salvia extend from his cock to your mouth, a low groan emitting from your boss at the sight. You take him back in, this time moaning around him for added effect and enjoying how his hands thread their way into your hair a glide you along his impressive dick. It was then that you began to hear the familiar sound of the elevator opening, and the annoying pitter-patter of shoes you have learned to hate. It seemed that Todoroki heard it too, but he only pushed you down deeper and leered at the way you gagged and squirmed. The clicking of Neca's shoes came to a halt as she shoved the door open with such haste you were surprised it didn't break. "Mr. Todoroki, please forgive me, I promise it won't happen again-" Your watery eyes open to give her a petty glare, releasing another moan around your boss so she could watch the way his eyes roll back in pure and utter pleasure at the vibrations you gave off. Neca's face turned a bright red at your bold decision and let out a high-pitched huff of anger. The irony of this situation was so satisfying. You flipped her off, making her storm out of the room, still enraged. That was until your boss yelled something to her "Neca, you still have to finish the documents you passed onto Y/n." You got no response, but you honestly didn't care at this point. She could hear you guys going at it like animals if she wanted to, but as far as you're concerned, she doesn't exist. You were yanked up and you look down to see that his cock was completely covered in your spit. "I think you deserve a reward, baby."  You were forced onto the desk chest first, your skirt flipping up making your panties on display for him to see. "I bet you have the cutest little cunt under these thin panties." He pressed two fingers against the damp fabric, swiping against your clothed slit before getting fed up and tearing them off. Todoroki kneeled, blowing cool air onto your soaked pussy and watching as you try to push your hips back onto his face. Your hole was clenching around nothing and it was practically driving Shouto against the wall. He got back up, stroking himself a few times before poking at your hole with his tip. He leaned his head into your ear with his chest pressed against your back, his breath making your heart race faster. "I'm going to fucking ruin you." He pushed himself in halfway, rocking his hips in a steady motion and chuckling at your small pathetic moans. "I'm not even all the way in and you're whining. Do you even want my dick?" You nod vigorously, trying to move backward to sheath the rest into your weeping cunt. "You want it all in? Use your words, pretty girl." He prolongs his movements and observes that way you try to fuck yourself on his cock, your orbs starting to form more tears from the lack of stimulation. "Please sir, I want to be stuffed full by your big cock." You whimper, letting his hand grasp at your strands of hair once more. Growling, he shoves the rest of his awaiting member inside of you, basking in the way your walls fluttered and twitched from the intrusion. "Good girl. Now let me use you the way I want to, little thing." He starts rapidly pounding into you, with your poor cervix being mercilessly rammed against in the process. "How's it feel getting railed like this, huh? You know, I could really use an heir to the company." Your pants began to mix with your moans, and you could tell your orgasm was coming on strong. You couldn't even warn Todoroki because right as you were about to tell him, you felt him nudge that special spot that made you see stars. And after that, you had no choice but to release. You expected Shouto to pause and let you rest after that intense orgasm, but he fucked you through your release and yanked on your hair harder, overstimulating you easily. "S-S-Shouto." You stammered, feeling his dick pulsate inside of you. Todoroki started pistoning his hips into yours at a more brutal pace, seeing you come undone for the second time. "I'm gonna fuck you full of my cum, and you're gonna be my pretty little girlfriend. How's that sound?" A gurgled yes left your mouth, too far gone to even properly validate his question. A loud groan echoed through the room as spurts of your boss's hot semen shot into your unprotected womb with full intention of getting you pregnant. You lie there, panting for a while before he picks you up, and sets you on the small leather couch in the corner. "I promise that Neca will no longer bother you. And that you and our child will have the best luxuries in the world." He murmurs, lying down in front of you and petting your moist hair. "I'm glad this happened, Shouto." He chuckled. "Yeah. Me too." The dreaded sound of the elevator returned, and this time, you could hear many voices chatting. You look over at your newfound lover's desk to read the time. 5:00 am. Also known as, office hours.

[the-slytherin-writer-12]

Best Daughter Ever: Chapter 1 “I am Iron Man” pt 1

A/N: this story is kind of going to be an AU. There are specific things that will happen in this story that aren’t canon and there are things that won’t happen that are canon. For example, in the future Steve is going to be closer to Tony and Y/N than in the canon MCU. I hope all of this makes sense. Also, let me know if you would like to be included in my taglist. 

Word count: 3,652

General Masterlist

---------------------------------------------------

2008

Y/N sat in the living room of the Malibu house. Her dad was supposed to be on a plane to Afghanistan for a weapons presentation. But, being Tony Stark, he was in his lab working on his hot rod. 

Taking over Stark Industries had definitely been hard on Tony back when he was 21. But getting married at 30 and having a kid at 30 was stressful as well. Not to mention that his wife died and he was a single parent. Tony had lost himself in grief and stress. He gambled, he drank, and he spent a lot of his time in his garage. But he did make sure to spend time with his daughter. 

Pepper just walked in with the clothes of some woman that spent the night. Y/N figured it was a friend of her dad’s, but she wasn’t so sure about the ‘friend’ part because she was wearing her dad’s shirt from last night with nothing under it but her undergarments. As to not get in trouble for eavesdropping, she placed some wireless headphones on and played ‘Grey’s Anatomy’ on her StarkTablet. 

“I’ve got your clothes here. They’ve been dry-cleaned and pressed, and there’s a car waiting for you outside that will take you anywhere you’d like to go,” Pepper spoke professionally. Anyone looking at her, whether they knew her or not, could tell that she was uncomfortable. 

The lady walked forward. 

“You must be the famous Pepper Potts,” she spoke. Pepper smiled and clasped her hands together. 

“Indeed I am.”

“After all these years, Tony still has you picking up his laundry?” The woman jabbed. Pepper looked shocked but quickly recovered.

“I do anything and everything Mr. Stark requires, including, occasionally, taking out the trash. Will that be all?” she asked sweetly. The woman looked taken aback but cleared her throat, turned around, and walked away. 

Y/N looked up from her tablet and met Pepper’s smirk. 

“How’d I do?” Pepper asked. Y/N looked back down and shrugged. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Auntie Pep,” The little girl said, looking back up and flashing her a charming Stark smile and batted her eyelashes. Pepper chuckled and held a hand out to the little Stark. 

“You are your father’s daughter. Come on. Let’s go get your dad,” she laughed. Y/N took off her headphones and set them down along with the tablet. She got off the couch and took Pepper’s hand. 

As the two were walking down the stairs, Pepper got a phone call. Y/N chuckled as she heard Tony’s music blasting throughout the garage. 

Pepper punched in her access code and walked in, making J.A.R.V.I.S pause the music that was blasting. 

“Please don’t turn down my music,” Tony said, not looking up from what he was working on. 

“Come, on Daddy. That song wasn’t even good,” Y/N said, letting go of Pepper’s hand and walking over to her dad. Tony turned around and smiled at his daughter, hoisting her up to sit in his lap with an exaggerated grunt. 

“When did you get so big, missy?” He teased. Y/N giggled and playfully hit her dad on her shoulder, causing him to gasp and feign hurt. 

“You’re supposed to be halfway around the world right now,” Pepper said, after putting her phone away. 

“How’d she take it?” 

“Like a champ,” responded Pepper. Tony lifted up a cover of some sort that went on his car. Y/N watched in admiration as her dad fixed the old car. 

“Why are you trying to hustle me out of here?”

“Your flight was scheduled to leave an hour and a half ago,” Pepper said exasperatedly. Tony put the cover he was looking at down beside him and looked back at the car motor. He pointed out quietly what was what to Y/N who nodded and listened with intrigued eyes.

“That’s funny, I thought that with it being my plane and all, that it would just wait for me to get there,” Tony remarked Y/N giggled, which caused Tony to look at her and smile again. He kissed her cheek, making her squirm away because his goatee was scratchy.

“Don’t encourage him!” Pepper playfully snapped. This caused Y/N to giggle again, but she nodded nonetheless. “Tony, I need to speak to you about a couple of things before I get you out of the door.”

“I mean, doesn’t it kind of defeat the whole purpose of having your own plane if it departs before you arrive?” Tony continued, setting Y/N down and standing up from his stool.

The two adults continued to talk about business stuff while Y/N walked around her dad’s shop. She knew her way around it, but it still amazed her each time. Her father truly was a genius. 

As she walked to a metal table, she sat down on a stool. 

“Hello, Miss Stark,” J.A.R.V. I.S spoke. 

“Hello, JARVIS,” the little girl replied softly. 

She listened in on her dad’s conversation, something about buying something unnecessary. 

“I’m allowed to have plans on my birthday,” Pepper said. 

“Oh! Daddy it’s Pepper’s birthday!” Y/N called out cheekily. Tony rolled his eyes at his daughter but smiled. 

“I caught that,” he said. “I knew it was. Already?”

“Yeah. Isn’t that strange? It’s the same day as last year,” Pepper said teasingly. Tony looked at her adoringly. 

“Get yourself something nice from me,” he said softly. Pepper smirked. 

“I already did.”

“And?”

“Oh, it was very nice. Very tasteful. Thank you, mister Stark,” Pepper said, smiling. Tony smiled bacl. 

“You’re welcom, Miss Potts,” Tony replied. Y/N coughed. 

“Daddy, don’t you have a plan to catch for halfway around the world?” Y/N teased, breaking the silence. 

Tony turned to his daughter and stalked toward her playfully. 

“Are you trying to get rid of my, princess?” He asked, getting closer. Y/N squealed and got off the stool, running away from him. 

Tony let out a playful roar and caught up to her, picking her up from behind and blowing raspberries on her neck. Y/N squealed as he did so, squirming. 

“Daddy, stop!” 

“Never!” 

--------------------------------------------------------

As the two Starks drove down the highway towards the airport, metal music blasted. Tony never liked going anywhere without his daughter, considering that’s how his wife ended up dead. But, there was no possible way that he was taking his daughter to Afghanistan. 

Speeding into the airport with Happy behind them, Tony came to a screeching halt. Y/N looked up at the plan and saw Rhodey standing at the top of the stairs. 

“Hey, Uncle Rhodey!” Y/N screamed from the passenger side of the car. Rhoday chuckled and waved back. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said.

Tony got out, laughing. 

“You’re good. Oh, I thought I lost you back there,” he called out to Happy as he got out of the car. Happy opened the trunk to the black car and got Tony’s lugage out. 

“You did, sir. I had to cut across Mullahound,” Happy said dryly. Tony nodded and walked around to where Y/N stood in front of the Audi. He crouched down and took his daughter’s hands. 

“Alright, baby. I’ve got to go,” He said, looking into her e/c eyes. Y/N pouted. 

“Do you have to?” she whined. Tony raised his hand and brushed her curly, brown hair out of the way from where the wind had blown it in her face. 

“Yeah I do. How else am i going to buy you everything?” He aske dsmiling. The girl pouted but nodded. “ I love you, so much.” He said, kissing her forehead, then pulling her into a hug. 

“I love you too, daddy,” she said into his shoulder. 

After a few minutes, Tony pulled back. 

“I’ve got to go now. Aunt Pepper will be there when you go to bed and Happy will stay at the house until she gets there. Be good for them,” Tony instructed. Y/N nodded. Tony placed one last kiss on her forhead and stood up. She watched as he walked to the stairs leading up to the plane. 

“What is wrong with you?’ Rhodey asked. Tony looked up there and shrugged. 

“What?”

“Three hours,” Rhodey deadpaned. 

“I got caught doing a piece for Vanity Fair,” Tony said as he climbed up the stairs, Happy trailing behind him. 

“For three hours For three hours you got me standing here,” Rhodey said. Tony walked past him and into the plane. 

“Waiting on you now.”

-----------------------------------------------------

 Y/N sat in her bed, waiting on Pepper. She was watching TV when pepper walked in, tears running down her face. 

“Auntie Pep? What’s wrong?” The little girl asked. Pepper walked over and sat down beside the young Stark. 

“Sweetie. Um, your father. He, uh, he went miss..missing in Afghanistan. There was a bombing and he was kidnapped, they suspect,” Pepper choked out. Tears sprung in Y/N’s eyes. 

“Daddy’s missing?” she asked in a small voice. Pepper nodded, wiping her tears off and sniffling. Tears began to make their way down Y/N’s face. 

“Yes, sweetheart. He is. You’re going to stay with Uncle Rhodey until they find him. It shouldn’t be long.’

But it was long. It was three months. Three, long months without her father. She cried herself to sleep everynight for the first month. Then, for the next too, she barely slept. 

All Rhodey could do was watch helplessly as his goddaughter lost sleep and missed her dad. He did everything he could to make her feel better. They even started staying at the Malibu house just so she could sleep in his bed.  While she waited on her father, Y/N was no longer the happy little girl that she used to be.

As news reports told about the accident, they let it slip that the famous Tony Stark had a daughter. This caused for Rhodey to basically place her under a lockdown, barely leaving the house. 

When they got news that Tony was found, Y/N burst out into tears. Rhodey cradled the girl in his arms as he thanked whoever was out there that Tony was alive. 

Y/N went to the airport and waited with Pepper and Happy, since Rhodey was the one to go get him. When the gate let down on the back of the plane, Rhodey was helping Tony up from a wheelchair. His arm was in a sling and he was holding Rhodey’s hand as they walked down the ramp. Y/N began crying as she let go of Pepper’s hand. 

“DADDY!” The little girl screamed. She waited until the two best friends were off the ramp to run to him. Tony’s face broke out into a smile at the sight of his beautiful little girl. 

Tony, with the help of Rhodey, kneeled on the ground and Y/N launched herself at her dad. She was mindful of his hurt arm. She cried in his suit jacket as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Tony got chocked up as he wrapped his good arm around her. She smelt like home. Oh, how he missed her.

“Hey, princess. It’s alright. I’m right here,” he whispered into her hair. Pulling back, he admired her. While stuck in the cave, he didn’t know if he was going to see her ever again. 

“What happened?” Y/N asked, sniffling. She then felt a hard thing under his shirt, right in the middle of his chest. She tilted her head to the side and placed a hand on the hard piece of metal. Tony smiled and shook his head. 

“I got caught by some bad guys. But I’m Tony Stark, so I found a way out of there. And about this thing, some scrap pieces of metal got stuck in my chest and thus was the only way to keep me alive. Its a tinier version of the arc reactor at lab,” he explained. The little girl just hugged him again. Tony stood up, bringing her with him. He settled her on his hip and walked towards Pepper. 

“Hmm. Your eyes are red. A few tears for your long lost boss?” Tony asked the woman. Pepper smiled. 

“Tears of joy. I hate job hunting,” she replied. Tony’s lip quirked up at the corners and walked past her and to his car. 

“Yeah, vacation’s over.”

Sitting in the car, Tony set Y/N beside him, allowing her to curl up into his left side. Tony wrapped his arm around her and kissed her hair. 

“Where to, sir?” Happy asked from the driver’s seat. 

“Take us to the hospital, please, Happy.”

“No.” Tony said. 

“No? Tony you have to go-”

“No is a complete answer.’

“-to the hospital. A doctor has to-”

“I don’t have to do anything.”

“- look at you.” Pepper finished. 

“I’ve been in captivity for three months. There are three things I want to do; I want an American cheeseburger. I want to hold my daughter, and the other…”

“That’s enough of that.” 

“...is not what you think. I want you to call for a press conference now.” Tony finished. Pepper looked at him.

“Call for a press conference?” she asked. 

“Yeah. Hogan, drive.” 

“What on earth for?”

“Cheeseburger first.”

After stopping at Burger King for three cheeseburgers, they made it to Stark Industries. Reporters and workers were lined up outside the door. Obie was waiting on them opening the door for Tony as they pulled up. 

“There he is. Ah. Tony,” he said, pulling Tony into a hug when he stepped out of the car. Tony wiped his mouth and hugged him back, Y/N getting out behind him. “We were gonna meet you at the hospital.”

“No, I’m fine,” Tony replied, throwing his napkin in the car. Happy walked around the car and held the Burger King bag out for Tony, who reached in and pulled out his second cheeseburger. 

Pepper walked over and motioned for her to follow her dad, who was talking to Obie about having to get a cheeseburger. 

Once they arrived in the press conference room, applause immediately sounded as Tony walked into the room. He had just finished his burger, meaning he was still chewing. 

Tony stopped for a moment, turning around and looking for his daughter. She was watching him from beside Pepper. With a jerk of his head, the little girl walked to her dad with a huge smile on her face. Tony grabbed her hand, smiling down at her. 

The two walked in between reporters who were desperate for news.  Arriving at the platform, Obie stepped behind the microphone and quieted the reporters down. Tony just sat down on the steps in front of the stand, allowing Y/N to sit beside him. He wrapped his arm around her, tucking her into his side. 

“Hey, would it be alright if everyone just sat down?” He asked,pulling out a cheeseburger from his suit pocket. “Why don’t you just sit down? That way you can see me and I can… a little less formal and..” 

Everyone sat down, including Obie who sat beside Tony. Tony looked over to Obie and muttered a ‘good to see you.��

“I never got to say goodbye to my father.” Tony started. Y/N made a shocked face and looked up at him. Tony just glanced down at her and smiled. “There were questions I would’ve asked him. I would’ve asked him how he felt about what this company did. If he was conflicted, if he ever had any doubts. Or maybe he was every inch the man we all remember from the newsreels.” 

Flashes were going off as he spoke. Y/N wondered why she was talking about her grandfather, he never talked about him. Especially to the public. 

“I saw young Americans killed by the very weapons I created to defend and protect them. And I saw that I.. had become part of a system that is comfortable with zero accountability.” Tony explained. A young reporter raised his hand on the front row. 

“Mr. Stark.” He said. Tony looked at him and nodded. 

“Hey, Ben”

“What happened over there?”

There was a beat of silence before Tony got up, Y/N scrambling up with him and taking his hand. 

“I-I had my eyes opened. I cam to realize that I have more to offer thus world than just things that blow up,” he said, a hint of anger in his voice. He walked around to platform and stood behind the microphone. “And that is why, effective immediately, I am shutting down the weapons manufacturing division of Stark International-” 

This caused an uproar of noise. The reporters were talking over each other to get his attention. Y/N shrunk into her father’s side, not liking the loud noises.

“-until such a time as I can decide what the future of the company will be,” He finished. Obie grabbed him by the shoulders and talked over Tony through the microphone. 

Tony picked his daughter up and placed her on his hip, stepping back in front of the microphone. 

“I don’t want my daughter to grow up in a world with violence. I understand that violence is inevitable, but I will do the best i can to keep her away from it all. Manufacturing weapons is not doing that,” Tony explained, effectively quieting the reporters. He walked down the steps, ignoring the reporters clamoring. He kissed Y/N’s head, allowing her to tuck her head into the crook of his neck. 

“What we can take away from this is that, Tony is back. And healthier than ever.”

-----------------------------------------------------

Tony wanted to go to the lab at Stark Industries. So, Happy drove him there and Y/N waited in the car, watching as Obie drove up on a Segway. He looked unhappy and walked in, leaving Happy to deal with the Segway. 

Y/N took out her Starktablet from her bag she takes with her everywhere, and pulled up a movie. She had recently been exposed to the Harry Potter series, obviously she read the books first. Taking out her earphones, she pulled up the 3rd movie, Prisoner of Azkaban.

Arriving home, Tony immediately went downstairs. Y/N sighed and went to her room, wishing her would watch a movie with her and cuddle. 

A few hours later, J.A.R.V.I.S announced that her father requested her in the lab. She paused her movie, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, and got up. Dumbledore had just walked into the room, screaming at Harry for ‘putting his name in the Goblet of Fire.”

When she got there, she saw that Dum-E and the other robots had cleared some room and placed a metal table-like thing in the room, along with some monitors that looked suspiciously like an EKG monitor. 

“Alright, princess. I need you to help me with something,” he said, turning her attention to him. She gasped as she walked over to her father, looking at the reactor in her dads chest. Reaching out, she brushed her fingers against the cool metal. She grinned up at her dad.

“This is so cool,” she whispered excitedly. Tony grinned down at her and laughed. Dum-E brought over what looked like a better version of the reactor.

“You really are my daughter. Ok. I need your help. I need to swap this old one out for the new one,” he explained, holding up the new arc reactor. Y/N nodded and shook her hands out. “Ah, no. You have to be careful. There is an exposed wire under this device that is touching is making contact with the socket wall and causing a short,” he explained, taking out the old reactor. Y/N watched closley as he pulled it out, exposing a wire attached to it that went deep into his chest cavity. 

“Ok. I’m assuming you want me to get the wire, pull it out, and then reconnect the new reactor?’

Tony grinned at her proudly and nodded. 

“Exactly. But be careful, if you touch the sides with the wire or pull out the magnet,  I could go into cardiac arrest,” he said nonchalantly. Y/N gawked at him.

“Ok.. Grey’s Anatomy don’t fail me now,” she whispered. Tony chuckled. 

Y/N reached into the hole and searched around for the wire. 

“Wh-what is this in  here? Is that discharge?” she exclaimed.

“Yes it is. Just get the wire.” 

Y/N searched for the wire until she found it. She carefully pulled it out, being sure not to touch the sides. 

“Ok. Ok. Good now just don’t-”

She pulled out the magnet. 

“-pull out the magnet. Ok. It’s ok.”

The EKG started flat-lining, making her panic, She really wanted to page Dr. Yang, and charge to 200. Maybe even page Dr. Shepard just to be safe.  But, her dad seemed fine. 

“Daddy you’re going into cardiac arrest though!”

“I know. Just put the new reactor in, attaching the wires to the base plate,” he said, handing her the new reactor. She reached in, and attached the wires to the base plate like her said. He exclaimed when she did, making the heart monitors come back and set them at a steady rhythm. 

Y/N breathed a sigh of relief and she dropped her head onto her dad’s chest. She then playfully swatted it.

“You can’t give me a heart attack at 8, daddy,” Y/n scolded. Tony laughed and ran his hand over her hair. She lifted her head and look at her dad. Tony sat up and kissed her forehead. 

“I love you, princess.”

“I love you too, Daddy.” she says, then glances at the old reactor. “What are you going to do with the old reactor?” 

Tony glanced her her, then turned back to whatever he was doing with Dum-E. 

“Throw it away. Incinerate it,” he said without any care. Y/N frowned and furrowed her eyebrows. 

“You don’t want to keep it?”

“Nope,” came his response. Y/N grabbed it and looked at it. 

“Well, I’m keeping it. Now, can you come watch some movies with me? You literally just got back from a foreign country where you were kept as a hostage,” she deadpanned. Tony chuckled, but tossed a shirt on and grabbed her hand. 

“Yes, let’s go. What are we watching?”

Taglist:

@bxtchboy69​

[pinkiepiebones]

Oh! I thought of a real question! You mentioned of course that these Ghouls do not have any form of naturally occurring organs (other than arguably skin, some people call that one, but does it really count as that or is that just the easiest word to use for it?), but there is mention of them forming rudimentary ones, and presumably more complex with practice, so the question is: Do they work? Or rather, I guess, how MUCH do they work? When one develops something resembling lungs, for funzies, do they get anything out of smoking or vaping? The ones who learn to eat things, if they get ahold of something all sugar, will they get all sugar-rushy? Just for a couple examples. Or is it more just performative?

Also, one for you, are you specifically a fandom writer? Or do you/have you considered drabbling in original content? I know a lot of people strongly prefer one over the other to the point they only do one, but some do both, and I could see these little imps being able to work well as a standalone thing if you ever wanted to play with them outside their lore environment.

Eeeeee thank you for asking about the inner machinations of my ghouls~ Gonna throw this under a cut, lots of talk of organs and eating and stuff CW

So basically aside from Special, no ghoul's ever made anything more than the most simplistic fabrications of various organs, because basically what is the point. I don't know why anyone would need a church ghoul to pretend to breathe, but the affect is achieved by the ghoul forming what might be thought of as a "straw," a tube connecting a simplistic "mouth" to an inner pocket in which air can be stored and expelled. The air is expelled when the ghoul rapidly closes the pocket that had been created. No musculature required!

The band ghouls, they've gotten more complex in their glamours. They've had to study extensively on forming jaws and teeth and tongues (Spesh still regrets showing them how to make tongues) and vocal chords- in my head for the vocal chords I've always pictured them sort of forming an empty space in their necks and, with some effort, making thin lines of, well, ghoul material? Zig-zag across that empty space... somehow, forcing their telepathic speech down from their minds onto that mesh of "chords" causes the telepathy to "bounce" outwards in more of a soundwave form, thus allowing them to provide backup vocals. But, back to their mouths. Spesh had to train them on foods, mostly how to tell an edible thing from inedible (the smaller Air Ghoul had decided anything it could sink it's teeth into was "edible" and there was a spate of biting incidents...), how to look like you're chewing, and forming a "pocket" within your being to hold on to foodstuffs until it could safely be "barfed out" (what Spesh calls "barfing" for ghouls is much more akin to upending a bag over a trash can- ghouls don't produce saliva or digestive enzymes and of course have no stomach acid so they just spit out, like, mashed up banana or finely ground pretzel dusts or flat beer...). Food itself has no effect on ghouls due to their lack of any systems; there's no risk of an overly-caffeinated ghoul running laps around interiour of a spire.

Spesh discovered he can get high. Well, I suppose it's the ghoul equivalent thereof. It might be a Special thing, or it might work on all ghouls, we just don't know. But Special found years ago that catnip- no, really!- makes him, in his words, "wiggly." He loses his grip on any glamour he's got activated and giggles a lot and just wants to curl up in a sunbeam or something. When he was studying the various inner workings of human anatomy back when he began his venture as spokesghoul he did actually form some pretty advanced lungs- not merely pockets to hold and expel air, he managed to focus and shapeshift within the lungs a sticky membrane that could seep the narcotic component of inhalants into his ghoul being. He absolutely learned how to do this so he could get proper high with Copia. Special smokes catnip. Whatever is in catnip that fucks him up gets much more potent when inhaled, and his shapeshifted lungs having those membranes to seep that "fuck me up" chemical from the smoke directly into his body gets him royally stoned. He doesn't experience "munchies" but sometimes his physical form will forget that it has to be quite so solid and his body takes on what one might call a "solid gelatinous" state, I guess? Like, if you were to embrace a royally stoned Special, it might feel less like hugging a warm mannequin and more like hugging a warm mannequin that is also unnervingly full of a very firm pudding. He cannot ever "melt" but Copia has anxiety about smoking with Spesh nowadays because of that very fear.

!!!! Honestly???? I thank you so much for that ringing endorsement! I have for a while now been thinking of this, actually. I've spent so long shaping my own personal vision of these ghouls that, while they are surely inspired by Ghost, they are enough of a cool thing without knowledge of Ghost, and if I could just find a word like "ghoul" to use for them... I can totally see myself pulling a "write X fic, change names, send manuscript to publishers as Y work" sorts scheme... I mean, I like my ghouls, and you like my ghouls, that's at least two paying customers right there!!! XD

[hwkhs]

anonymous requested: Could you do headcanons for Iwaizumi and Kuroo of them trying to smooth talk their crush but failing? I love your stuff!

pairings: iwaizumi hajime x gn!reader, kuroo tetsurou x gn!reader

warnings: a slight reproductive system sex joke

style & genre: bulleted; fluff

notes: they, especially kuroo, give off such cool/smooth guy vibes in general so seeing them like this is interesting,,, i don’t know how to flirt so the awkwardness from iwaizumi’s captures exaggerated versions of my failed attempts tyty also my bad puns in kuroos

and my definition of smooth talking is bad pick up lines iM sORRY

Iwaizumi Hajime

he doesn’t know how to flirt for the life of him okay, this guy smh i’m sorry for the approaching secondhand embarassment

he regretted the words right as they came out of his mouth

this fool decided to go the one and only trash for advice

i mean they’re best friends and oinkawa knew of his crush on you for a while now

“iwa-chan! if you say this, she’ll definetely fall in love with you!”

he had that face (u know, the one he makes after oikawa says “are you my mom now” or smth like that)

let’s just say oikawa left with a bruise on his arm that day

iwaizumi would see you in the halls before school started so he reasoned that that would be the only time he could converse with you

you guys have different classes as well as your own after school activities after all

you’ve noticed him too, and the fact that he gaze would linger juuuust a bit longer on you as you walked by

practice is cancelled one day and he’s waiting in the halls after school

he’s on his phone as you round the corner with a stack of papers in hand, tall enough to cover your vision

he sees movement at the corner of his eye just as you somehow trip on air

his feet move faster than his brain and your caught in his beefy arms

the papers scatter around you guys like cherry blossoms

that can give you cuts aha sorry paper cuts suck

he’s short circutting because he didn’t think this would be a situation he’d ever be in

but there you were

he goes to ask if you’re okay but one look in your eyes and he’s--

“i guess you fell for me” oOPS he was going to kill oikawa

you quirk a brow at him and immediately get on your feet, quickly gathering the fallen papers

“well, i techinically fell on you--”

he was really going to commit a crime after this next one

“are you wearing space pants, cuz your ass is outta this world”

hE dOESN’T kNOW wHAT hE’S dOING

all of the pick up lines oikawa told him were just coming out now and what a great time to be alive hajime

you freeze in your spot and face the ace who looked on with embarassment in his features

it took all it had not to burst out laughing and you knew this wasn’t really him speaking from his own thoughts

you’ve been paying attention to him too don’t lie

you stand back up and pat his chest, hand slipping into his back pocket

“same to you” you wink and rush off, realizing you were going to be late to your meeting

his mouth is agape as he reaches into the pocket your hands was in

there was a lil slip of paper with your number on it

ngl you kinda wrote that in advance just in case some quick encounter like this happened

he instantly deflates, leaning on the wall for support when a certain setter hops his way into iwaizumi’s peripherals

“sooooo, how’d it go?”

rip trashikawa, your space pickup lines didn’t go to waste tho

Kuroo Tetsurou

so this guy is the school’s heartthrob and a science nerd

a LOT of gals & guys want him

but you? nah he’s just a lil bit too much for you

but this guy has no shame and wants to win your heart for real though he kind has a smalllllll crush on you

but you aren’t having it

literally just flirts with you in the middle of class

and he’s your seatmate

in true cliche fashion, your teacher assigns a project in which you’re partnered with the person next to you

you have to deal with his balant flirting not only in the class room but outside of it as you are forced to work together as well

good luck or lucky you, pick your poison

so onto what the project was about

it had something to do with the human body and the anatomy and yada yada yada but it was some interesting stuff

you guys agreed on meeting at a lil coffee shop on campus that wasn’t busy at the time you chose

ti was all going well, meaning that you guys were actually doing work, until he opens his mouth

“are you the female reproductive system, because i’d love to be all ova you”

he has the audacity to send you a wink and you’d be lying if you didn’t blush a lil till you realized how cheesy that was

fifteen minutes later and you curse the fact that you guys haven’t moved pass the reproductive system section

“do you need another one?” he says, pointing to your writing utensil that was running out of ink, “cuz i can tell you were my pen-is”

across his face he dawns his signature sly look and you look at him in disgust

“what are you doing?”

“what do you think i’m doing, kitten?”

you were gonna punch that grin off his face and he smiles to himself, thinking you were just playing hard to get

but your face is void of amusement and you return to your work which he is taken aback by

by the time it reaches the three hour mark you pack up and say that you guys should meet up again to start the actual bulk of the project

“ohohoho you wanna see my face again, y/n?” you almost stop yourself from saying what you were going to say, hearing your name roll off his tongue, but compose yourself

slinging your bag over your shoulder, you turn to face him with a confident smirk of your own

“if you think you can win me over like all those other people, there’s a vas deferens between me and them. see you monday, same place and time” and you leave

YOU GO BRO

his jaw drops but he takes it as a challenge

[elliethesuperfruitlover]

Dew Covered Rose

A/N: So we’re ignoring the fact that I haven’t written in like......two, three months. I honestly just haven’t felt like it, and my brain has been busy thinking about writing, or getting back to my daydreams, or thinking about Midnight. Comfort character tingz. But yeah, I’m bringing Topazi back (i also forgot when juneteenth was, I was supposed to do something for her then, I missed the day, but here I made up for it :) This is mild hurt/comfort, except my OC is tired, not hurt. Also this is probably time to mention that Topazi is a gardener, and goes to clients houses to plant things for them! Enjoy!

Tag List: @joz-stankovich, @misskittysmagicportal, @badsext, @super-unpredictable98, @the-freckled-luba, @magic-multicolored-miracle, @ghouls-buddy, @maerenee930, @frogs--are--bitches, @neuroticpuppy, @forenschik, @bisexualnathanyoung, @robert-sheehan, @firstpersonnarrator, @salvador-daley

Warnings: kinda unsafe driving bc sleep deprivation, brief mentions of nudity, swearing

  Topazi had a bit of a tiring day. The house that she’d been working at had almost no shade. The customers were as nice as they could be.....but it seemed as though every tulip that she planted correctly, they would request it to be put in a different place. Even though there was an extremely limited amount of space that she had to work with. It was very frustrating to her, to be honest. However, she got the job done. It took hours of her digging things back up and wiping sweat off of her face to be happy with the result. She was sure to make sure that everything was as good as it could be before the left for home. Even the thought of having to get back in her car and do something other than cuddle up and or sleep was killing her.

  It was late into the night, and the owl in the front yard stared at her as she pulled into the driveway, eyes barely open. She took multiple deep breaths and rubbed a calloused hand over her face before stepping out of the car, not even bothering to take her tools out of the trunk. She trudged her way into the house, carefully unlocking the door, as to not disturb Klaus, who should’ve been close to sleep, or in bed at that point. She tossed the keys into the bowl by the door, and hung her coat up, silently grimacing at the soreness already developing in her arms. 

  Not having the energy to call out to Klaus, she walked into the kitchen, finding one of the cats on top of the kitchen island, fast asleep. A small smile found its way onto her face as she gently pet it, smoothing down the fur on top of her face. She made her way over to the fridge, which she opened, very slowly, to find leftovers of spaghetti that Klaus had cooked for himself. She could never stand the noodles and sauce together, so she looked around for more things. Canned soup in the pantry....she’d have to heat it up, and she needed something instant. Juice wouldn’t be filling enough. She began to nod off, looking at the fridge once more, and she found a solution that she’d looked over. A sandwich.

“Thank fuck for bread.” she thought to herself as she grabbed the bologna, mayonnaise, and cheese slices from their respective spots before grabbing a knife and paper towel. By the time she put the bread back, her sleep levels had reached almost the maximum, and she began nodding off, head on the side of the fridge. She quickly came to her senses, and trotted back over to the island, joints creaking.

  She sat down on one of the stools on the kitchen island. (”Klaus, I need the stools, if my legs don’t look like a pretzel, I’m not sitting correctly.”) As she took a bite of her sandwich (crust first), her brain decided to shut down temporarily, and she almost fell asleep eating. The suds episode of Spongebob Squarepants, however, prevented her from doing so. She slowly ate the sandwich, grateful for the purpose that it served. After she finished her first bite, however, she completely knocked out. The cat woke up, looking at her owner, before hopping off of the counter, and walking up the stairs.

  Klaus had heard Topazi come home, but it’d been a while since he heard her open the fridge last, so he went to check on her. He avoided Minnie on the steps (as in Minnie Riperton, not the mouse) and walked into the kitchen, to find his lover fast asleep, small snores coming from her mouth. He smiled, almost letting a chuckle past his lips when he realized his task.

 “She looks fucking wasted.” he thought, before gently shaking her awake, resulting in a groan of annoyance.

“Come on T, you gotta get to bed.” he whispered, rubbing her back. She leaned against his chest, and shook her head into it, too tired to utter a rebuttal.

  Klaus chuckled lightly, and put Topazi’s used paper towel in the trash can, and her utensils in the sink, to be washed when he eventually came back down for his late night (and sometimes morning) snack. He gently picked her up, leaning down to press a small kiss to her forehead. He thought back simply how much he just loved her. He didn’t know how, as he said that “I can’t fall for someone completely. At least not again.” but he did. Although, it wasn’t completely all at once though. 

 Klaus made his way up the steps (once more avoiding Minnie), and into their shared bedroom where he gently laid Topazi down on the bed. He figured that she may want to be clean when she slept as well, but was somewhat confused how he was to go about the entire “my partner is half asleep and I’d hate to disrespect her boundaries”. So, he settled on simply getting rid of her outer clothes, and bra, then placing nightie over her form. It was one of the newer ones she’d bought. She would go on and on about how “there’s tiny flowers on this nightgown Klaus, I need to buy it”.....ah he loves Topazi with all of his heart.

  He gently tucked his lover into bed, making sure that she’s close enough to her phone that she won’t be grouchy about having to move from her spot in order to reach it. Topazi stirred in her slumber, but only a bit, and Klaus went down to the kitchen for his meal, which was going to be a good old fashioned lover boy nutter butter. Klaus thought back to when he first met Topazi as he ate his sandwich. It had been right after he met his....other siblings...like other other siblings. She was quietly sitting in a coffee shop, where she had her knees to her chest, reading a book. She was deep in concentration, but when Klaus found nowhere to sit, he had no choice but to ask her. (or to leave the shop and drink his hot chocolate elsewhere, but nah)

“Um, can I sit here?” he asked, pointing to the seat. She nodded her head without looking up, making a small noise of affirmation at the back of her throat. Klaus sat in the booth across from her, his shoes making a squeaky noise on the tile below. He awkwardly crosses his legs, taking small sips of the drink.

“What are you reading?” he asked, eyebrows quirked upwards. She gently lifted her book, and it read “The Human Anatomy, Down to the Bone Cell” He hmmed in acknowledgement, and resorted to looking out of the window. 

 The drops of rain raced each other on the windowsill, determined for few seconds at a time, only to puddle together in the end. Klaus stared at a single corner outside, where nobody seemed to be walking over. It was the crack where the sidewalk met the much smaller border of the sidewalk. He watched the rainwater trickle into it, and he felt himself start to zone out. But that was alright...he needed time to think.

  This, in turn, was perfect for Topazi to stop reading her book and stare at this stranger. New people aren’t really her thing, as they’re usually below her standard of who she liked keeping in her circle. She peered at the way his curls were somewhat tussled, like he’d been caught in a windstorm of some sort. (Although it’s been rainy all day, no wind whatsoever.), she thought to herself. His eyes were beautiful, but so tired, it seemed. Wonderful shade of green, she thought, too. She pondered the different shades of green that she could remember, which lead to her thinking of the floating diamond of Sims’ characters. (plumbob, she repeated, overenunciating the first syllable). She went back to the thought at hand, and looked at the hand clutching the cup of hot chocolate, still seeming to be warm to the touch, judging by the steam coming from the mouthpiece of the top.

  His hand was veiny, somewhat red, (maybe because of the heat). His fingers looked very pale though, almost as if they’d recently been subjected to extreme cold, or flashes of it. (the rain, she thought) His chest was partially exposed due to the.....vest that he was wearing (maybe he’s some sort of performer, he does have a cowboy hat) She paid more attention to his face, also tired, and glanced at his lips, but only for a moment, as she didn’t need to get exceedingly horny in a public space over a complete stranger.....again. She softly gasped when he looked back at her, and she softly smiled, getting back to her book.

“Were you just staring at me?” Klaus asked, looking back at her.

“Yes.” she replied, eyes skimming over her paragraph on metacarpals. She had a fleeting thought to wiggle her hand in front of her face in order to properly label everything, but she could do that back at home.

“Why?” he asked, his tone giving off the fact that he wasn’t in fact upset, just curious.

“Eye contact isn’t my favorite thing, neither is small talk, especially if I’m preoccupied, so I sometimes stare at people in order to get a better understanding of them.” she explained, glancing at Klaus.

“Oh, well, don’t mind me then. I won’t bother you.” he said, looking at the table. Topazi put her book facedown on the table, apologizing.

“You’re fine! You didn’t try to talk to me, and you respected me when I didn’t reply with the name of my book, verbally at least. I like that.” she replied, deciding to look Klaus in the eye.

“Oh, thank you. Care to tell me why you’re reading about human cells?” he teased, a smirk coming to his lips. Topazi panicked for a moment, because she thought “fuck....he’s a charmer”

  She did tell him about why she was reading about human cells. And why she kept scratching a portion of the book as she read. He even noticed how she bit her lip when she read, which lead him to think that she was actually reading some sort of cell erotica, only to remember what she had previously told him. They talked for hours, it seemed. For once, Topazi found someone that she could talk to and not get tired. Interests, parents, everything (maybe a bit too much). They eventually had to separate, but not after giving each other their numbers, and Klaus found a small feeling of joy in his chest as he walked out of the coffee shop. He walked back into the Hargreeves (uh.....Sparrow) mansion with a small smile on his face. His face hurt, not from too much sun, or biting his lips too much. From pure excitement and joy, he found. Bubbling out of him, steamrolling its way out into the open. His fists shook in glee, and he squealed, and he didn’t care. For once. He needed something good, and she was it. Beautiful Topazi. Wonderful Topazi. That’s the answer.

  Klaus came back to his senses as he realized that some of the marshmallow fluff had leaked its way onto the counter where he scooped it up with a finger, tempted to put it into his mouth. A few moments of thinking gave him his decision. He imagined Topazi’s look of disgust when she caught him doing that once, and stuck his finger under the tap for a few moments, wiping the water off on his bare thigh. He finished his sandwich, and went back upstairs (once again avoiding Minnie). He snuggled next to his partner in bed, breathing in deeply. Yeah....she’d need a bit of a shower when she woke up, but that’s alright. That’s alright though. She would spend the rest of the day at home, to rest from being on her feet and knees for hours the previous day. And he’d tell her how important and beautiful she is, and think about how he’d almost went to the pizza shop across the street. But he didn’t. And he chose right, so right. With no regrets, for the first time he could think of in a while.

Masterlist

[stormwarnings]

you’re a medic. you're very good at it.

you wanted to be a pilot.

they call you dreamer because you've never stopped looking to the stars, not once. you're quiet and fierce and those are good traits for a medic, apparently, so they put you in training and it turns out you're even better at stitching people shut quickly and efficiently. they keep calling you dreamer because you still gaze up at the stars when you can, beside the campfire, through ship windows.

it turns out that being a medic isn't quite like it works in scenarios. a lot of it is just holding your brothers’ hands as they die and telling them they aren't alone.

they keep calling you dreamer because you still wish you were a pilot, still wish you could escape to the sky and the stars. some nights you cant find them. some nights you don't bother to look.

you've got a jedi, too, a purple and white nautolan with a lightsaber the color of the sun at dawn. they look you in the eye and say, if there is anything you need, dreamer, don't hesitate to ask. the jedi aren't too bad. its the rest of the world that's cruel.

you know all your men by name. they’re your men, or they feel like they are, because you're the one who takes care of them and makes sure they live to fight another day - that's how it goes, right? you're the grand army of the republic. perseverance matters, not preservation. there will be no funerals for you, not in the end. sometimes, you're not even sure where you'll go when you die.

general fel asks, dreamer? commander hurricane yells, dreamer! your best friend adi says, dreamer.

they still call you dreamer because that's just your name, now. it doesn't matter what dreams you had. the stars don't seem so beautiful when you've lost a brother beneath every one.

you’ve got circles upon circles tattooed in black around your left eye, and hair you’ve let grow long, frizzing around your face. adi braids it back, runs their hands through it at night. adi is deaf in one ear but it doesn't matter since you dont talk too much anymore, anyway.

tell me a story, general fel asks you and adi and adi’s squad, runaround - lightning and pearl and saviin and tali. you’re an honorary member because of how close you are to adi, and so here you are, huddling around a fire with them on a distant moon. far above, the thin atmosphere reveals a tapestry of stars, winking and gleaming, splashed across the sky. you don’t look up.

pearl asks, can i hold your ‘saber, sir?

general fel tosses it to her with a smile, and then turns to the rest of you. he’s got that look in his eyes. he’s one of your men too, in a way; he’s your general, and he’s your friend, but his wellbeing is still your responsibility. he looks battle-worn, and you remind yourself to do a psychological check-in, at some point. the men need a general to lead them, and you need someone to follow.

general fel laughs at one of lightning’s stories, about their squad’s days staying out of the trash compactor, running combat simulations over and over. adi knows you too well, and paints a picture of you as a cadet - bright-eyed and stumbling over too-big boots, trying to memorize anatomy with your head still in orbit. 

so that’s why you’re called dreamer, then, general fel says, pleased as can be to puzzle out something new about his men. he makes the rounds like these at night for a reason. what will you do after the war, dreamer? you could be a pilot.

you shrug. after the war, you say. i’m still just a clone, sir. even if i survive. 

general fel’s face falls, a little. those dark eyes reflect the night sky above. you will, he promises, and you wish he wouldn’t. there will come an end, soon.

saviin perks up. really?

general fel takes back his lightsaber. he says, i think so. he’s right, of course. just not in the way he thinks.

you accept the transmission on your comms. there’s something in your head, and you stand up, turn with your brothers. jedi knight mey fel, tali says. you’re marked for execution. 

the night fills with blasterfire and purple armor dead on the ground. general fel’s blade, orange as a dying sunset, flashes out and around, but never fast enough. he deflects a bolt towards you, and there is pain in his eyes as he does it, but -

you’re relieved, when you fall. you’re relieved that the fight is finally over, that the mission can finally end. you’re relieved that the sky above you is full of stars, full of multitudes - full of light.

what will you do, dreamer? general fel had asked.

you go home.

[sunflowerstalks]

Maybe If Remus Had a Plan in the First Place This Fic Would Have Had a Name, Too

Remus is Remus, Roman is tired, and there’s a cat, too. Expected chaos ensues.

This is my gift for Pigeon, @the-pigeon, for @sanderssidesgiftxchange! I hope you enjoy your gift, and i hope your holidays were and continue to go well! Also, happy new year!! :D

word count: 2125

rating: teen and up (for slight language/innuendo)

content warnings: slight innuendo/language typical of remus, hair pulling as a stim, descriptions of bad things happening to animals (as an intrusive thought, it is dealt with accordingly), slight anxiety attack/sensory overload moment

relationships: platonic sides (all of em) with brotherly roman&remus focus, implied/background romantic roman/virgil and romantic patton/remus but it’s pretty subtle

characters: roman, remus, virgil, patton, logan, janus, c!thomas (meaning both character!thomas and cat!thomas asfhjakfh)

additional tags: high school au, punk au, heist fic, like slight conflict and then mostly fluff and comfort. also, side note, cain and abel are the twins’ cats sdhjgdskfh

“Remus.”

“Roman.”

A beat.

“Any chance you could explain… any of this?” Roman gestures wildly to the pile of metal scraps, receipts, the feral cat, and assorted other trinkets strewn across the sidewalk in front of Remus, before crossing his arms and impatiently awaiting an answer without his usual air of, well, put-together-ness.

“Well, I’d actually gotten around to finally cleaning my wallet, when—”

“The cat, Remus! Whose cat is this? Why do you have it? Why is it surrounded by trash?” Roman’s voice increased in both volume and shrillness as he went on, hands reaching unconsciously to tug at his hair.

“Hey, don’t do that shit,” Remus tugged at the cuffed jean at Roman’s ankle for emphasis, “Anyways, like I was saying, I was cleaning my wallet when I remembered that I was like, eighty assignments behind in anatomy, so I figured I could do some cool art or somethin’ with a cat! For… extra credit or something.” Remus faltered for a moment, “In all honesty, I didn’t think I’d get this far.” He had thought getting the cat would be the hard part, so now he was stuck in the swing of success without a direction to turn. Roman, however, was still stuck on the small details (in Remus’ humble opinion).

Roman took a deep breath, muttering something that sounded a lot like a prayer for forgiveness, before looking down at his brother yet again.

“Remus.”

“Yes, brother dearest?”

“Whose cat is this?”

“Do you want the honest answer?”

Roman looked moments away from manslaughter, yet managed to nod anyways. Remus’ face broke into a shit-eating grin;

“I have no fucking clue.”

---

“Let me get this straight—”

A chorus of ‘good luck with that’s and similar sentiments echoed Logan’s statement, much to his chagrin.

“Okay. Redo.”

“You can’t just say ‘redo’ IRL, Lo,” Virgil chuckled, not even bothering to look up from his phone—he had already checked out from the drama, but stayed for the simple pleasure of experiencing the familiar banter—and in fear of being called to the dean’s office for cutting class. Mostly the latter.

“And I would argue that you cannot say ‘IRL’ in a verbal conversation, yet here we are,” Logan paused for emphasis, adjusted his necklaces for the umpteenth time, and smoothed his hands over the table again before continuing, “Regardless. The situation that you—and I mean you two,” he gestured to the twins, “there is hardly a ‘we’ fault-wise here—have gotten into, is one of... feline larceny, without a known victim? Is that correct?” Remus nodded sheepishly—or as sheepish as his wolfish features could get, all teeth and eyes—while Roman just stewed in rage. Remus’ backpack laid halfway zipped on the lab table, and every once in a while a pink nose and whiskers would find its way into the light before being shoved back by a flurry of hands, aware of what yet another detention would mean for the twins. They couldn’t all just skip, though—they learned that the hard way from the last time one of Roman and Remus’ harebrained schemes had made its way from “a slight nuisance” to “an unignorable thorn in everyone’s side that also somehow ends with arson.” So, they had some past experience in handling the, well, experience that the twins brought along with their company—but they normally had at least a lead to work with.

“How,” Janus started, massaging his temples despite only just then contributing to the wreck of a conversation that their art class had devolved into, “do you steal a cat, and not know who from?” Remus just shrugged.

“It wasn’t intentional. I needed a cat, a guy had a cat, I didn’t ask questions. Was I supposed to?” Remus asked, eyebrows drawn together—normally, he’d be a sarcastic shit that would drive the group insane on (some level of) purpose, but now he just seemed genuinely afraid—of the consequences of his own actions, but, still—progress. Logan opened his mouth to offer his advice, but was silenced by the jarring ring of the bell. He sighed. This was going to be a long day of way more stress than he was qualified for—the twins were going to owe him another stick and poke if he had any say in the matter.

---

Remus must have been a wonderful, wonderful man in his past life. He had to have been. Because, somehow, by some good grace, he managed to make it through another two classes on his own, and to lunch in one piece, with a living cat by his side—well, in his backpack, but the merit stands. Logan could honestly say he was impressed—not that he would tell him that, though. Nevertheless, the six friends reconvened at lunch—still without a direction to turn.

“I could just put him back where I found him,” Remus started, attempting to break the icy silence at the table with a jackhammer as always.

“Do you even know where that is?” Roman scoffed, incredulous.

“Well, no, but I could get close.”

“This isn’t helping,” Logan interjected, “How about you bring it to a shelter? One nearby where you found it?” The table nodded in general agreement, but Remus only frowned.

“But that isn’t where I got it from. What if it has an owner? What if the closest shelter isn’t a no-kill shelter, and we go to all the trouble of saving the cat only for the fucks at the shelter to hurt it?” Remus’ pace picked up with his heart rate—despite only having this cat for maybe six hours, if anything happened to it, Remus had a pretty good idea of what he’d end up doing.

“We can check for that, can’t we, Lo?” Patton chimed in, placing a calming, steady hand on Remus’ shoulder, which sunk, relieved, at the touch.

“Possibly. But, regardless, it isn’t Remus’ cat. Our priority is to get it back to its original owner, if it has one,” Logan pointed out, “If that isn’t possible, then we need to reevaluate our plan, come up with another, and settle for a different goal.”

“Have we at any point today even actually had a plan?” Virgil snickered, ever the pessimist—it wasn’t like he was really helping as he was, once again, staring at his phone.

“Well, it’s not like you’ve done much besides stare at your phone today, edgelord,” Remus snarked, though it came out as more of a mumble—his face was pressed into the table, and his eyes were on the cat in the bag.

“You’re gonna have to get better nicknames, Dukey, we’re all edgelords here,” Janus deadpanned, smudging an unhealthy amount of eyeshadow around his eyes while Virgil and Remus argued over their respective contributions.

“Okay, can you, my brother,” Roman pointed to Remus, whose teeth clacked with how fast he shut up, ”and you, my boyfriend,” he pointed to Virgil, who could only look the smallest bit abashed,  “calm all the way down? Stop arguing, holy shit—” Roman took another breath, relishing the silence that had fallen over the table before pushing on, “—how about we all go, together, and fix this shit? I mean, what could go wrong?”

---

The answer was a lot. A fucking lot could go wrong when six seventeen-year-olds tried to coordinate anything, let alone an amateur heist.

Remus managed to get through the rest of the school day without much incident, but the rest of them were not so lucky, managing to receive a grand total of three detentions and six failed tests from lunch to the end of seventh period between the five of them. The teens recounted the horror stories of sixth period; Patton gesturing wildly from the driver's seat, Remus sat quietly (for maybe the second time in his life) in the passenger seat, and the remaining accomplices squished together in the back seat (which would fit three people at most for any group that wasn’t them). Also in the back seat was the cat, who had been dubbed “Thomas” for the time being—he was sat in Janus’ lap, curled up around an abandoned ball of yarn that had been left under one of the seats. The car ride across town would have been incredibly tense and unbearably long without the feline, and for that, Remus was grateful—even if he still had a sinking feeling of guilt swirling in his stomach.

---

           After a surprisingly uneventful car ride (except for the stop at a drive through for a morale boost (Patton’s words) of coffees and drinks which ended, after a rather nasty pothole, with a massive stain on the roof of the car), the party settled into the waiting room at the—no-kill, Remus triple checked—animal shelter. There weren’t enough chairs, so the group made more of a pile around Thomas, some of them standing, and the others sitting both on chairs and the floor. Juxtaposed with the sterile white of the walls, they stood out like the emo cousins that they basically were. Remus bounced his leg, up, down, up, down, over and over. He kept knocking his knee against Janus’, which jostled Thomas every time he did.

“Sorry,” Remus mumbled, trying to focus on holding still.  But it itched in the back of his brain, guilt and stress and fault and all the wonderful, terrible feelings churning, over and over. The clock behind the desk was too loud, and Remus couldn’t do anything about it because they wouldn’t even have to be here if not for him. So he kept his mouth shut and tried not to cry—for all of two minutes, because that was when Janus decided that he had had enough, and shoved a ball of fur into his arms. For a moment, Remus was terrified he was going to fuck it up, hurting Thomas or himself or causing some other inevitable disaster, but Thomas just pushed his warm face into Remus’ palm, and suddenly, somehow the only thing Remus could feel was loved. He choked out a wet laugh, unable to contain the bubbling build-up of emotions that had been brewing since he first saw Thomas that morning. His friends all looked at him, concerned at first, but all they could do was coo at Remus being the softest they had ever seen him. He sniffed, and gave them all a watery smile.

“Thanks, guys.”

“Sincerity? In my brother? It’s more likely than you think!” Roman teased, poking his brother in the arm. Remus stuck his tongue out at him, and the teens devolved into familiarity, playful taunts and sincere joy, waiting to be called back for Thomas’ check up.

---

While the veterinarian had been momentarily taken aback at the request for all six visitors to be in the room during the appointment, she also hadn’t seen a reason to say no at the time. Thus, once again, like the clowns they were, they piled into the room and crowded around the table, Thomas at the heart of it all—confoundingly calm given the situation, at least to the onlookers.

The veterinarian introduced herself to each of them, and began examining the cat for any injuries, microchips, or anything out of place.

“He seems to be healthy, no broken bones or infections…” The doctor said, reaching for a handheld device, “If he’s microchipped, and I’m able to reach the owner, you boys will be off the hook, okay?” Remus cringed, but nodded—he needed to remember that Thomas wasn’t his before he got hurt. She ran the scanner over Thomas’ back, and hummed.

“I’m… actually not finding anything. You said he was lost?”

“I don’t know for sure,” Remus confessed, “I found him on the street, so he could be a stray.”

“It seems he was a very lucky one, for sure. Most cats his age are incredibly susceptible to outside bacteria—finding you guys likely saved his life.” Remus’ eyes widened, and his hand reached for Thomas almost instinctively.

“You said that he doesn’t have an owner?”

“Not that I can determine, no. Did he have a collar, any sort of identification?”

Remus shook his head.

“Well, there are two options in the meantime; we can hold on to him, and put him up for adoption through our services, or you could adopt him. He needs to be immunized and neutered, first, but where he ends up is up to you guys.” Remus thought to himself for a moment.

“Hey, Roman. How mad do you think Mom would be if we brought Cain and Abel home a new friend?”

---

The answer? Not mad enough to outweigh her happiness at Remus’ smile with Thomas in his arms. And even though he didn’t end up getting the extra credit in anatomy, Remus’ circle of best friends grew by one, so he thinks he did alright in the end.

[jobrookekarev]

Happiness

T.S. x Jolex Week 2021 hosted by @thejolexgroupchat​

Chapter One of One

Words: 7706

Summary:  A year after their divorce, Jo sends him a letter and a tiny box. She tells him all about how her life has changed, the new career she chose, and the baby she adopted, but there was one last thing she had to tell him.

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy.

Relationship: Alex Karev/Jo Wilson.

Characters: Jo Wilson, Alex Karev, Luna Ashton Wilson, and Meredith Grey.

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences.

Additional Tags: Angst, Taylor Swift, Miscarriage, Letters, Babies , Hurt No Comfort, Sad Ending.

Read at AO3

Read at FFN

AN: I do not own any of Taylor Swift’s music or the lyrics to Happiness.

……………………………………………………………………

Dear Alex,

The moment he read those words, written in Jo's beautiful and perfect cursive handwriting, he braced himself for the heartbreak that was about to come. He wasn't sure what he expected when he opened the mailbox that afternoon and found the letter from her with the divorce papers. He wondered if she would write him back or if she would call and leave another voicemail. Hell, he half expected her to show up on his doorstep and herself, with the furious anger that he knew so well. But he couldn't deny that he loves the chance to read her words.

Loves. Loved. Past tense, present tense, or it was still hard not to think of her with anything but love. Her love used to carry him around with light footsteps, a happy heart, and a warm belonging in his chest. Now he carried it around like a tattoo, the black ink bleeding across his skin. Her love and her words burned into him like the heavy mark she left upon him.

He knew he deserved every heartbreaking word she had written in this letter, and he dreaded every word but eagerly read her letter.

The last thing I ever thought you would do is leave me. You and I, we've been through hell and back. I was there when you almost threw away your life and your career, and although we weren't together during those few months. I never stopped loving you, not once. It was you who made things right, who proved to me that I could trust you and that you had changed, and I did trust you, Alex. I trusted you with all of my heart. I trusted you not to break my heart again and even as I read the words in your letter, I still couldn't quite believe it. I still can't believe that after everything, you would betray me like that.

It's been a year now and I think I have finally accepted that you're gone. That you're not going to just walk back into my life one day. That you're not going to show up on my doorstep one day. Getting your letter broke the fairytale life that we had together. I felt like the music stopped, and I was still standing there waiting for you to come back. Until the moment I got your letter, I was waiting for you to come back to me because you always did. You always came back to me, except this time you didn't, and I know that you won't come back again. 

It still doesn't feel like it's okay because you were my life for six years. I’ve known you since I came to Seattle. For the entire time I’ve been at Grey-Slone, you’ve always been with me, and the hospital still doesn't feel like home without you, but it's starting to be, and I'm learning to live without you. My entire life revolved around you. Everything I had was because of you, and life without you was like an uphill battle, but I did it. In the past year, I have changed so much, and you would be so proud of me. You haven't met the new me yet, but I think you would like her.

Now that I'm above it all, I see it for what it is, but a year ago, I couldn't. I was still in the middle of it all and I was still so full of hurt. I gave you the best years of my life, and then I packed you away in a box and shipped you off to someone else. All of the things that we had collected over the years, from the very first thing I bought you, the couch, to the box of bandages you bought today before you left, and now it's all just shit that we’re dividing up. Sometimes I feel like I should have fought for you, like I should have gone to Kansas and demanded to stay with you, but I didn't. I couldn’t. I was...

She had written something else there but had erased it and written something else. He wasn't sure how, but somehow he knew there was more to the reason why she didn't come to Kansas for him. He hoped that it would be revealed as he read on.

I don't know if it's fair to say, but I would have loved you for a lifetime. I did love you for our entire life together, and I don't know if I should say this, but I will love you for the rest of my life. You’re it, Alex. You’re my one and only. I would have left it all behind to go with you to Kansas to be a part of your kid's life. We could have been together and we would be happy. 

I was so happy with you, happier than I've ever been in my entire life. There was happiness because of you, but I know that I'll be happy again because I am happy, Alex. After you left, I chased happiness, and I found it. In the most unexpected ways, but I'm happy, and I hope you are too. 

So as much as I hate you for leaving me, I understand why you left. Of course, your kids come before me. They should, as much as it breaks my heart, but I'm also still so confused and angry because I would have done this with you. I would have co-parented with you and Izzy, and I would have made one hell of a stepmom. I would have loved your kids, Alex because they are part of you, and I loved everything about you. 

You said you weren't going anywhere except home with me, and then you said you weren't coming home. You said you would never hurt me and then you did. You said you love me and then you said you love someone else. You said you wanted to be my husband and that you wanted me to be your wife and then you sent divorce papers. You said not to let anyone treat me like trash and then you threw me away. You said you loved me, and I believe you, but you still left.

Now that a year has passed, I see the mistakes that you've made, and it still hurts. I still can't sleep on your side of the bed, but when I do, it is both a comfort and a sadness because you’re not here to comfort me yourself. I gave you the best years of my life. I wrapped my arms around you every single night, and I pulled your body into mine, and I still don't understand how you left my arms and my body and our bed. I don't think I ever will. You asked me to find better than you, but I don’t want to find better. There is no better. You were the best man I’ve ever known.

I know you still love me when you say you love her. I hope you're happy loving her, knowing you'll never have me again. I know that she's beautiful, Izzie, and I hope that she is enough of a fool to believe it when you say that you love her. I know I did.

I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. I guess I'm still angry at her and at you. I don't think that anger will ever go away. Yet, as much as I hate you for leaving, I can't stop loving you. I guess that's what I get for loving you for six years. Just because I love you doesn't mean I want you back. I want to make that very clear to you, Alex, this letter isn't me asking you to come back.

She had pressed in with the pencil so hard that it looks like she had nearly broken through the page at one part. As much as he knew she meant what she said, that she didn't want him to come back, he knew her well enough to know that she was forcing herself to write it. Deep down, she didn't really mean it, but he would respect her enough not to go back, no matter what the rest of her letter said. He still had several pages to go, and if the rest of her letter was as heartbreaking as this page was, he knew he deserved it, but that didn't make reading it any easier. 

I always knew how to leave bad guys because that's what I’d known before you, but you're not a bad guy Alex. You're a good man, but no one teaches you what to do when a good man leaves you. 

You taught me so much, you taught me what real love was like. You taught me that I was worthy of that love. You taught me what a good man looked like. You taught me how to fight for myself and for others. For so long, I fought for us, and you did too, every break-up, every fight, you and I would come back to each other. You used to say that we were like two magnets always getting pulled together. You taught me cool tumor in a bag surgeries and how to talk to kids about guts. You are the reason why I wanted kids. You were part of the reason why I wanted her.  

I think that the reason I fell in love with her and why I fought so hard for her, you said I would find something to do with your shares in the hospital, and I did, but not in the way I'm sure you thought I would. I was never good with leadership or anything. I hated being chief resident, you know that. That's kind of what I like about OB because it's not about what I want or what I need to do sometimes. It’s about my patient, it's about their birth and their child. I'm just the person that helps them bring their child safely into the world. 

Sorry I kind of rambled off there, but anyway, I sold the shares of the hospital to Tom Koracick, which I feel like I should tell you about, considering I know you don’t like him. Bailey likes him even less. I was kind of terrified to tell her, so I just let Tom tell her. Anyway, I'm rich now, I guess, which is so weird, and I don't think I'll ever get used to it. I still find myself checking my account balance and freaking out when I see the number of 0. I haven't gone totally crazy. It's still sinking, but yesterday I did buy this fancy stereo, so I guess I'm sort of getting used to it. I still find myself eating boxed mac and cheese. I don't think I'll ever give up that habit, as I'm sure you know that. Growing up the way that we did, no matter what, we'll never get used to being financially stable, much less rich.

I guess that brings me to my next point. I switched careers. Not to pediatrics before you get all proud or anything, you were always trying to convince me to join you and the Ped’s squad. I switched it to OB/GYN. I am part of the vagina squad now, pink scrubs and everything. Although I kind of like the pink, I still kept my blue scrub cap though. 

I don't know what it is this past year, but everything I've done has just been baby related. Maybe it was my hormones, maybe it was fate, but I just, it felt right, and I love it. You and me were trying for the baby, and when I got pulled into the delivery room one night at the hospital, the amount of joy in that room was overwhelming. We were in the middle of the pandemic, but these parents were so happy because their baby had been born. They welcomed them into the world with such love. I've kind of been chasing that love ever since you left, and I found that love and that happiness again in more ways than one. 

I'm sorry I'm rambling so much. Even after a year, it's still hard to sort through all of my thoughts. The main reason why I wrote this to you was that I wanted to share some of the changes in my life because even now, after the things you've done, you’re still changing my life.

Starting off, I moved out of the Loft, if you can believe it. Well first, I move someone in. After you left, it felt too big and empty without you. So I did something crazy and I invited Levi to stay with me. He was my roommate for a year and he's been my friend. I still own the Loft, but he and now Helm too, rent it from me, and I've completely moved out. I am now the owner of a top floor penthouse! It’s Jackson’s penthouse actually, he left to run the foundation in Boston and sold it to me. I'm actually writing this on the floor of my new place because I don't have much furniture. Despite the fact that I've been here a month. It’s just the bed, the couch, and a crib.

A crib. 

There was a crib in Jo's new home. A crib meant a baby. A baby meant that Jo was a mother and the possibility that he was a father again. The initial shock caused him to pause before he read to the next line. His heart raced, and he couldn't help but smile at the thought of them having a child. It was everything he ever wanted with Jo. It was why he had deliberately waited several weeks to send his letter on the off chance that she might be pregnant. That she would have something, anything, that would bring him back to her. Maybe that made him an asshole or coward for only wanting to return to her if they had a baby together. As selfish as that was, he couldn't leave his children without good reason. Although his hopes were dashed with her next few lines.

I suppose I should explain that to you. Although I know you don't deserve to know about my daughter or the family we have together, I want to share with you anyway. I have a daughter, her name is Luna Valerie Wilson. I adopted her and that adoption was finalized last month. Today marks the first month that we've been a family. It feels like  I was just bringing her home from the hospital yesterday, but being the mom of a baby doesn't really leave me much time to get anything done. Like I said, I still haven't finished furnishing this place, but I’m getting around to it, and at least the nursery is done!

I guess I should tell you how Luna came into my life. I’ve known Luna her entire life. Her mother, Val, was my patient, and unfortunately, she died. She came into the ER with stomach pain, and her labs came back saying she was pregnant, but we couldn’t find the baby in her uterus because Luna was on her liver. I call her my little liver baby and my little moon. So we delivered Luna, but Val’s liver was bleeding, and I had to remove part of it. She deteriorated until she eventually died.

Val loved Luna so much and she never even got to hold her. She wanted Luna so much, she named her before she was born with the name she had picked out since she was a young girl. All she wanted was to hold Luna, but she was in liver failure, and neither she nor Luna were stable enough to meet, but I couldn’t bear to keep them apart. If you were here, I know I wouldn’t even have to ask, but you weren’t. I finally convinced the new Ped’s guy, Hayes, to let me bring Luna to see her. Hayes is pretty nice though and I think you would have liked him. I'm sure Meredith talks about him to you. I'm not sure what's going on between those two, but he makes her happy. 

Anyway, Luna needed surgery for a bronchogenic cyst, so I suggested we make an extra stop. We made it to the hallway of Val’s room before she coded. I ran the code for an hour. That was my worst death in the pandemic and I didn't even lose her to covid. That night after she got out of surgery, I held Luna’s hand for the first time.

Something about the whole situation just grabbed a hold of my heart and wouldn't let go. I didn't even realize it. I fought so hard for Luna and her mother to be together that when she died, I didn't know what else to do except to keep caring for her baby. I never even considered adopting Luna until Link brought it up. We were talking about Scout and he mentioned how good it felt to be a parent. I laughed it off because I didn't think I could even consider it. It wasn't until Luna almost died that I realized it. She aspirated after a feeding, and Hayes paged me and I, I was a complete mess. I just stood there watching her. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't move until they got her back. When they did, I realized that I wanted to be her mom more than anything.   

Why I ended up selling the shares and used some of the money to adopt Luna. I applied to adopt her first, but I was denied because of my history. I’m sure you can guess why. After I was denied the adoption, I was devastated. That year it felt like I lost everything, I lost my mom, I lost my mental stability, the whole fucken world went to shit, I lost you, I lost Luna, I lost the only thing that I never wanted. I lost… 

There it was again, that line that trailed off, the eraser on the page, lines rewritten with something she didn't want to say. There were still a few pages left, but there was something she wasn't telling him, something she had been erasing. Things she would say and things she wouldn't. Despite that, Alex knew that she would tell him eventually, she always did. Even if it was years later, Jo was like an onion in that way sometimes. 

He first thought of it when they were making dinner one night, although she had thrown the onion at him when he called her that. But it was the best metaphor he could think of. She had a thousand layers of history, each layer was sadder than the one before. Her history was filled with enough sadness to make anybody cry. Still, he loved her onion heart because, despite all of the sadness, no one else in the world made him as happy as she did. Alex took another deep breath as he carried, on knowing the sadness that awaited him. 

I decided that this time I wasn't going to let the world chew me up and spit me out without a fight. I wasn't going to lose her without fighting for her as hard as I could. So I hired a lawyer. Hence the reason why I sold the shares. She was insanely expensive, but she was worth it. It took a year, and in that time, Link was gracious enough to apply to be a foster parent for me, and with his help, and since she was still at the hospital, I could see Luna whenever I wanted. 

This week the judge reviewed my case and he gave me custody of Luna about a month ago. The past month has been a whirlwind and I've never been happier. Due to being a preemie, she’s still a little delayed, so she's not quite walking yet, but she crawls everywhere and gets into everything. Just the other day, I left a bag of chips on the couch, and when I came back from the bathroom, she had dumped it all over the couch on the floor and was playing in it like leaves in the fall. It was so adorable, I just took a picture of her and played with her for a little bit. It took forever to clean up though and I'm still getting chips out of the couch even now. 

Alex paused to laugh for a second. He loved the vision of Jo and her daughter playing in the chip. He had spent years imagining what it would be like to see Jo with her child and he was so happy to hear that was a mom now. It was all the happiness he had ever wanted for her.

I never want to give her up or let anyone else hold her for too long. Despite the fact that she’s 17-months-old, I still feel like a mom of a newborn. Meredith pointed that out to me when we were over at her house the other day. I kind of snapped at her when she wouldn't give Luna back after she started fussing. I feel like such a new mom, but I'm slowly getting used to it. I can now successfully make dinner and get Luna to fall asleep in my arms, which feels like the biggest accomplishment in the world. Sometimes I just look at her and I remember how tiny she was in the NICU. She was barely the size of my hand. I remember holding her in my arms when she barely weighed as much as a feather. She was certainly a lot lighter than all the other babies that I'm holding these days. 

Now she's so big, she pulled herself up the other day, and I know she's going to start walking any minute now. She just started talking, and she can say five whole words, and she called me mama, and I feel like my heart is going to burst every single time. She has her favorite toys, and her favorite blanket, and she's just this little tiny person. She has such a personality Alex. She reminds me of Val in that she's just so happy and calm, but she fights for what she wants, and she is insanely sassy and stubborn, which I think she gets from me. Either way, it's this knockout personality, and I can already tell that the toddler and the teenage years are going to be insane. Yet, I am so looking forward to watching her grow up and being her mom throughout all of it.

Sometimes I play with her and I wonder if you're playing with your kids too. To be honest, I didn't understand why you left me for your kids, but now I do understand. I get what it means to have kids and not want to leave them. Even now, I still have two months left on my maternity leave, but I have no idea how I'm going to leave her at daycare. I'm her mom, and I feel like I need to spend every moment with her, getting to know her because we haven't had that time together. She's been in the hospital, and I've been working, and fighting for her. Now that we have every waking second together, I still feel like it's never enough. I hold her while she naps, and she sleeps through the night. Which I know for most first-time parents is a blessing, but sometimes I just wake up in the middle of the night, and I stare at her because I miss her. I don’t want to miss another second of her life. I know you understand that. I know you understand why I could never walk away from Luna for a second, even to be with you.

I don't know how to explain it. Something about Luna just captured my heart and wouldn't let go. I just had to fight for her. I didn't want her to grow up in the system with no one fighting for her the way that we did, with no one fighting for us. I held off for so long just watching over her in the NICU, and then I almost lost her, and I knew. I just knew I wanted to be her mom. I had to fight for her, but with my history, you know I wasn't considered the best option for a foster placement, much less than adoption. But I fought for her because Luna was worth fighting for. I had to protect her. I owed that to Val, who I couldn't save, and I owed that to our baby, who I couldn't save either.

We had a baby Alex. I was pregnant when you left.

And there it was, the last layer of the onion. The last thing that Jo was waiting to say.

Alex's heart stopped at that moment. It’s then that something else slipped out of the papers of the letters. A tiny little black and white ultrasound photo with the name Jo Karev in the corner. She could have been more than ten weeks along when it was taken, and their baby was still so small. Alex could see their little legs curled up and the outline of their little head, their nose, and their mouth. It was their baby, it was their child. 

I was pregnant. I found out I was pregnant after you left. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I didn't tell you. I wanted to wait until you got home to tell you, then I got your letter, and the pandemic hit, and I just didn't know how to tell you. But I was going to tell you. I swear, I was, but I just didn't know how. 

And then I didn't have to.

I was so excited when I found out we were having a baby, Alex. The moment that stick turned pink with two tiny white lines making me a mom, I've never been happier. You and me, the three of us, we were gonna be a family. I missed you like hell, and every appointment I went to alone, all I wanted was to have you next to me. I got the first ultrasound, and I couldn't wait to tell you until you got home, but you wouldn't return my calls or my texts, and I had no idea where you were.

Then you sent me the letter.

I was so heartbroken when I lost you, but I still had hope. I thought that we could figure something out. I wanted you to be a part of our child's life. I know you would have been the best dad in the world to our baby, just like I know that you're the best dad in the world to your twins. I wanted you to know them and to love them as much as I did, and I'm sorry you never got the chance to. It all just happened so quickly. You sent me the letter, and while I was still reeling from that, the pandemic hit, and then I lost our baby.

I miscarried the day that Val died. 

I don't know what happened. I did everything right. I took all my prenatal vitamins, and I went to my appointments with Carina. I read your letter, and I carried on because I had to be strong for our child, our baby. I did everything right, but I still lost them. It was after I had visited Luna, and I held her hand for the first time right after Val died. I was in the attending’s lounge, but I felt the pain, and the blood started dripping down my thighs. It all happened so fast and there was so much blood. Apparently, I passed out, and when I came to, Carina was at my bedside. She told me my baby died and that I almost died too. I had hemorrhaged, and they had to do a D&C and pump me full of new blood. 

Meredith was at my bedside when I woke up the following day. I was kind of in and out of it those first few days. They almost called you, I guess you were still in my emergency contact at the time, but they didn’t. And I'm kind of glad they didn’t because after losing our baby. I was so angry. I blamed you, but you weren't to blame, no one was. I know that now. 

It took me a long time to process it all. I kind of just buried it all deep down. I focused on my work and on Luna, and it's only now that I'm really starting to process it. I've taken all that anger and hurt, and I buried it like I always do. It wasn't until the night that I was denied to adopt Luna that I really started to process it all. Thank God for Michelle and Carly. I think I saw them every day that week, and I'm pretty sure I have solely funded their next ten vacations. Meredith helped me too, and so did Bailey and Link. If it wasn't for our friends and family and for the love I had for Luna, I don't think I would have made it. I still have the trauma of losing our baby, and it was the reason why I didn't tell you earlier, and I'm sorry, Alex. 

Alex can see his name, written out in her handwriting, but it's smudged by a drop of water that must have been from a tear falling down her face. Tears streamed down his cheeks now as he brushed them away before they stain in the paper. Jo was pregnant, she miscarried, they lost their baby. He was forced to take a moment to remember how to breathe as he sat there and cried for the family, for the wife, and the child that he lost. 

It’s all his fault and she was right to blame him. If he had been there for her, if he had watched over her, if he was there when she started bleeding, maybe, maybe, this wouldn't have happened, but maybe it would have regardless. At least he would have been there. He could have rushed her to surgery before she passed out. He could have held her and comforted her as they grieved for their baby, but he wasn't there. Jo miscarried and almost died alone, because of his selfish choices. His kids, they needed him, they loved him, and he loved them too, but Jo needed him as well. For some reason, he thought that she didn’t need him because she was an adult. She was his wife, and even if she hadn't miscarried, he was the person who was always supposed to be in her corner, for better or for worse, that was what he promised, and he wasn't there for her. 

He left her. 

How did he do it, how did he leave her? 

As Alex sobbed, the tears streamed down his face, and he just put his hand in his arms, and he cried. He cried harder than he had ever cried in his entire life. He was thankful that he was alone in the house because he screamed and shouted and cried. He grabbed all of Izzie’s perfect pillows that she kept in the living room and threw them against the empty fireplace. He grabbed the studded animals that Alexis and Eli had been playing with before school and he threw them against the walls. He screamed and cried so much that his voice became hoarse as his throat hurt, but he didn't care. He raged and threw things and cried until he was exhausted. 

He sat on the floor against the fireplace on the cold, rough bricks. The one thing he hadn't thrown was Jo’s letter. It was still clenched in his hand, the paper was wrinkled from his fist, but he smoothed it on his knee. Her letter wasn't over yet, and he had to continue reading.

There were so many people that this past year, people I couldn’t save, but I could save Luna. I just looked at her, and I thought that maybe I could keep her safe, that I could raise her and take care of her. And I know that she doesn't replace the baby we lost. But when our baby died, I had all this love stored up, love for you and love for our baby, but Luna didn't have anyone to love her, so I did. I took all of my love and I loved her. That's part of why I fought for her because I thought that if I could look after Luna, then Val would do the same for our baby in the afterlife. We could look after and love each other's babies. 

So I did, and I love Luna so much. She is my daughter, she is my baby, and I know that with my whole heart. She is a whole new life that I love, and I've never been happier than when I was with you. She is the love and the light of my life, and she's the reason I get up in the mornings. She is everything to me as I'm sure your kids are everything to you.

There are three pictures on my shelf right now. One is the first photo I have of Luna and me together in the NICU, the second is a photo of Val that one of her friends gave me, and the third is the ultrasound photo of our baby. 

Losing them felt like losing the last part of you. After losing them, you vanished from my life completely because there was nothing left of you or our baby. There was no baby to bury, nothing to put in a casket and in the ground, and no gravestone. There was no proof that they were loved, and they were loved, Alex. I want you to know that more than anything that our baby was loved. Not very many people know about them, just Link and Meredith and a few others, but they were so excited, and they loved and took care of our baby and me. 

After I lost them, I wished that I had something to hold on to. Something that was theirs, and then I realized I did have something. I had quite a few things. I had been given a few baby gifts and things that I had bought for the baby. I took everything and sorted through it. Sorting through their things reminded me of sorting through your things, and it reminded me that I had just lost you all over again, but I still did it. Some of our baby’s things I used for Luna, but a couple of very special things I put into a little shadow box.

In it, I put one of the blue onesies that has little clouds on it that I was compelled to buy the second after I found out I was pregnant. There's the ultrasound photo from the eight week scan and one of my pregnancy tests. There’s this little grey bear that Link gave me, and Meredith gave me this little brown beaded pacifier clip that she swore was good luck and would make it, so I never lost a pacifier or something. Arizona and Callie sent me back this blue scrubs onesie that they said you made for Sophia. Even Christina sent me the little onesie that says ‘Evil Spawn’s Spawn’. Although I tucked that away in the bottom of the box. Amber sent out this pink cloud swaddle blanket that she swore would get them to sleep in 60 seconds and a pack of diapers because she knew that our kid would go through them like crazy. I used most of them for Luna, but I kept one and put it in the box. 

After you left, I still kept in touch with your mom. She’s so good to me. She said that I would always be her daughter-in-law, and she was excited to meet our baby. She sent me all of the hats that she had ever knitted for us, and she sent me this grey giant hat with tiny matching booties. I don't know why, but those booties were my favorite out of everything.

I put the hat in the box, but I carried one of the little booties around with me for the longest time. I would just carry it around in my hand, or I would just tuck it in my bra close to my heart, or just put it in my pocket. I still do that even now, that's the one piece of our baby that I don't think I'll ever let go. I sent you the matching booty in a separate package. I wanted you to have something of our baby too because they were real, Alex, and I know you would have loved them if you knew. My entire pregnancy, I whispered to them that their Daddy loved them. 

I wanted you to know that I was always going to tell you. I would have never kept your child from you, but at the time, I was still in the thick of it. The hurt from you leaving and everything else going on in the world. I just wanted to figure out what I was going to do before I had to think about what we were going to do together. I was going to tell you, and then I didn't, and then I couldn't.

I lost them a year ago, and for the first time, I felt like I could tell you about them. I suppose I could have never told you about them. I could have spared you the pain, and the heartbreak, and I'm not telling you now to hurt you or punish you, I swear. Well, maybe just a little bit, because it hurt to lose our baby alone. I wish you would have been there for me, and then other times, I'm glad you weren't. You would have apologized, and it would have been all about how you left. I just thought that you deserved to know about our baby even if I lost them like I lost you. 

So now that I've told you all that I wanted to, I don't know how to end this letter. I don't know how to end us. I guess that's something we share. I just hope that you're as happy with Izzie, Alexis, and Eli, as I am with Luna. I hope that you get the family barbecuing on the back porch, and the soccer games, and the movie nights, and the book reports. I hope you have the family you always wanted. I know that you're a good Dad, and I can almost see it. I know that you're happy and that's how I know I can end it. I also want you to know that I don’t hate you anymore, I’ve forgiven you. I’m sorry I didn't want to take your happiness with this letter. Just know that our baby was loved and I was happy to have them while I could. I hope that you have a good life and I hope you're happy Alex, I truly do.

All my love, 

Jo 

As soon as he finished Jo’s letter Alex looked up. He went over to the kitchen bar rifled through the mess for the tiny post box that Jo had sent. He didn’t want to open it until after he read her letter and he thought he should save it for last and he wasn’t sure if it would have been better to know this heartbreak beforehand. Alex sank back down to the floor leaning his back against the wall. He ripped off the tape and opened the box, delicately wrapped in tissue paper was the tiniest of baby booties. It was well knitted and soft with two tiny buttons. His mom had done a good job like she always did. As he picked it up it seemed too small in his big hands, but he could imagine his and Jo’s tiny baby wearing this booty. Jo was right, holding this booty now, their baby felt so real and the loss felt so great. Their baby would never wear this booty and he would never hold their child in his arms. 

As he held the booty and for the first time since he sat down to read Jo’s letter, Alex looked around the perfect house that he shared with his two perfect kids and Izzie, and suddenly it was all too much. Because Jo was wrong, he wasn't happy. Every day he fought with Izzie over how they should parent the twins. Every day, she reminded him that she never wanted him in their lives and that she was supposed to be their only parent. Every day Izzie reminded him that he was an unwanted presence in their lives. Things with the twins were good, and they loved having a dad, but when they were in school and Izzie was at work, he was all alone. He felt the loneliness creep in like a fog and he missed Jo now more than ever and he grieved for their lost baby.

Alex decided he couldn’t stay here any longer. He grabbed his phone and the letter while holding the booty in his hand and he took off. He got in his car and drove away. He ended up in the city because that was more familiar than the back roads of Baldwin. For some reason, he wasn't surprised when he ended up at the airport. He parked in the parking garage and just stopped for a second. 

How could he go home now? A year had passed since this had happened. Since he left, since he sent his letter, since Jo was on her own, since she lost their baby. Jo had well and truly moved on, but as he looked down at the tiny grey booty, he was still in the thick of it. 

He decided to call the one person who he could always talk to, and Meredith picked up after just a few rings. “Hey.”

“Hey Mer,” Alex said, somehow keeping his voice steady as he looked down at the letter and the booty in his hands. “I um, I got Jo's letter today.”

“I know,” Meredith said, her voice soft and gentle. “She told me she was sending it to you.”

Alex just nodded his head and licked his lips as the saltwater tears collected in his eyes. “Jo was pregnant.”

“I know.”

“We were going to have a baby.”

“I know.”

“But she, she miscarried and, and our baby, our baby died.”

“I’m so sorry, Alex,” Meredith said as he just closed his eyes, feeling the tears fall from the corner of his eyes. “I was there the day she miscarried, she cried out for you. She wanted you there, but I couldn't, I couldn't get a hold of you. Then Jo hemorrhaged and I didn’t want to leave her, by the time I was going to call you again, she, she asked me not to.” 

“She, she cried out for me?” Alex asked, finally breaking down, knowing that Jo had gone through the miscarriage all alone and that she had asked for him to be there, and he wasn't. Instead, he was in bed with another woman, with other children, and another family, and she was all alone. He left his wife, the love of his life, and their baby all alone.

“We were going to have a baby,” Alex cried, as he put his arm on the steering wheel and leaned his head forward to hide in his arm. “But she miscarried, Jo miscarried alone, because I wasn't there.”

“She wasn't alone, I was there, and Link was there. She wasn't alone.” Meredith tried to reassure him.

“But I wasn't there,” Alex stressed, picking up his head as he held the phone to his ear again. “I wasn't there for her, I'm her husband, and I wasn't there for her. She went through the worst possible thing imaginable alone. She lost our baby, and I wasn't there for her. I was off playing happy family with Izzie. Frecken Izzie, who left me the same way I left Jo. I know that pain, and I still chose to give it to her. I gave her the worst pain imaginable. I left her alone, and she miscarried, and it's all my fault.”

“Alex, this wasn't on you. Jo didn't miscarry because anything that you or she did, it just happened,” Meredith insisted, but her words didn't make him feel any better, and through his tears and his sobs, he could barely hear her. 

“I wasn’t there. I should have been there,” Alex cried, he sobbed, and he wailed, breaking down in the car as he clutched the baby booty, the soft yarn folding in his hand as the buttons pressed against his palm. “It's been a year but, but I still love her. I never should have left her, Meredith. It was the worst mistake I've ever made in my entire life. I left her, I left our baby, I left our family. I left and our baby died and Jo was alone. I should have been there.”

Alex cried, he cried for his wife, he cried for their baby, and he cried for his stupid mistakes. The tears trailed down his cheek and it felt like they would never stop. He openly sobbed much more than he had ever cried in his entire adult life. Big ugly tears filled with saltwater that stung his eyes and snot dripped down his nose as he wiped it away on the cuff of his shirt. He just cried. He couldn't seem to do anything other than that. 

He just cried.

AN: You can come kill me now, but if you do I can't post traitor tomorrow.

[tagsecretsanta]

From @MissSquidTracy

to @scattergraph

Secret Santa does not own this work, full credit to the author above!

Gordon liked to think of himself as the fashionista of the family.

Sure, his Hawaiian shirts sometimes drew attention of the unwanted kind, but the aquanaut was a firm believer in using clothing as a means of non-verbal communication. John was living proof of this theory.

Unfortunately, all of the freedom associated with self-expression went down the toilet with a resounding ‘flush’ when tradition dictated your attire, even if only for a day.

“Seriously, grandma?” Alan grouched, his bottom lip poking out to form his signature pout when he spied the Tracy matriarch descending the stairs with an armful of colourful sweaters.

“Zip it, kid,” Sally rasped, her tone offering no room for negotiation, “This year marks the tenth anniversary of the Tracy Christmas Album, and I’ll not have your attitude souring the occasion.”

Scott and Virgil shared a look of mutual disgust as Sally handed them two hideously baggy and itchy looking jumpers.

“Don’t you two start as well,” Sally warned, yanking a loose thread off the sleeve of John’s before tossing it towards the redhead, “Anyone caught sulking will be in the kitchen with me for the rest of the afternoon. I’ve just finished a fresh batch of liver and onion stuffing and could use a taste tester.”

Five jumpers were yanked over five heads in perfect unison.

A nod from Sally affirmed her satisfaction with her grandson’s new-found cooperation.

Gordon grimaced and scratched absently as the coarse fibres tickled the soft skin of his neck. Posing for the annual Christmas album photograph was a tradition that stretched right back to their days on the ranch, yet he found himself becoming more disillusioned with it the older he got. Maybe it was the discomfort of wearing an unnecessary extra layer in Tracy Island’s heat. Maybe it was the disappointment of no longer having snow to wake up to on Christmas morning. Maybe it was the absence of his parents, and for the last three years, at least one of his brothers.

“Who’s on the roster for today?” Kayo asked, striding into the room and wordlessly scooping up the one remaining jumper that was equally as ugly as the abominations adorning the torsos of her male colleagues.

In an effort to preserve the family element of the season, Scott had devised a strategy where just one member of International Rescue acted as the primary point of contact for any rescue calls that came through on Christmas Day, be them sea, earth or space based. Last year, Virgil had volunteered and been called to Nigeria to deal with a flash flood. The year before, Kayo had drawn the short straw and ended up assisting with the evacuation of a small town in Chile when a nearby volcano blew it’s top. The year before, Gordon had helped clear away the debris caused by a three-way semi collision on one of Australia’s busiest highways. The aquanaut had been instrumental in ensuring three hundred people made it home in time for Christmas, despite it coming at the expense of his own.

Fairness dictated that Virgil, Kayo and Gordon were exempt from being called upon this Christmas unless absolutely necessary. Accordingly, the honour of being ATD (available to deploy) fell to Scott, John, and Alan to hash out.

One quick round of rock, paper, scissors later, and Scott found himself wondering what brothers three and five would look like with their heads shaved.

“Alright, scoot in!” Sally ordered, returning with Alan’s tablet which she held aloft in an attempt to get a good angle, “Scott and John, you two stand at the back. Gordon and Virgil, you kneel in front of your brothers. Kayo and Alan, I need you both to sit at the front. We’re going for a tiered approach this year.”

A healthy amount of shuffling ensued as each Tracy (plus Kayo) moved into position and tried desperately to make himself/herself look decent. Scott yanked on the hem of his jumper in an attempt to cover up his belt. Virgil tried to hoist his up so that he wasn’t rocking the off the shoulder look. John scrubbed at his nose as the acrylic material began to trigger one of his many allergies. Gordon fanned his face with a hand as sweat began to bead across his forehead. Alan tugged fruitlessly on sleeves that fell woefully short of his wrists, and Kayo demanded that Virgil tell her honestly whether the shape of her jumper made her look fat.

Sally was firmly of the opinion that jumpers had to be vomit-inducingly ugly in order to be ‘festive’. The designs adorning each of the six knitted atrocities in front of her offered indisputable visual evidence of this belief.

Scott was brandishing a bright blue snowman, while Virgil sported a dark green reindeer (complete with light-up antlers). John was the unwilling wearer of an orange gingerbread man, and Gordon was proudly modelling a yellow penguin (complete with a squeezable beak that sang Jingle Bells if you so much as looked at it). Alan appeared indifferent to the red elf plastered across his chest, and Kayo was trying to make the best of her rapidly unravelling black turtledoves.

“Smile!” Sally sang, her finger poised, “On the count of three, everybody say cheese! One…two…three!”

“CHEESE!”

Click.

Flash.

The end result was less than impressive. Scott had blinked at precisely the wrong moment. The grin plastered across Virgil’s face was nothing short of horrifying. John’s eyes were almost as red as his hair. Gordon was shamelessly modelling a chunk of leftover spinach in his right canine. Alan had twisted his head to peer at Virgil at the last second and was a blond and red blur…

Unsurprisingly, Kayo was the only one who’d managed to look straight at the camera and smile like a normal person. 

After reviewing her rather substandard snap and tutting in disapproval, Sally tightened her grip on the tablet and ushered her dispersing grandsons back into formation with a ‘shoo’ motion of her free hand, “Come on you lot, form up. Nobody leaves this room until we have a decent photo. How you boys can look so good in real life but so bad on canvas is beyond me. Your dad always said-“

The sudden departure of an elf wearing Tracy brought all dialogue to an abrupt halt.

“Sorry, grandma!” John yelled as he made a beeline for the stairs, the redness of his nose akin to Rudolph, “But this wool is giving me a nosebleed. You’ll have to take the next shot without me, or just make the one we have work. It might be for the best, as you know how Alan gets unforgivable gas whenever he’s forced to pose.”

The youngest Tracy let loose a honk of outrage, but was dutifully ignored as, one by one, his other brothers began to filter out of the lounge. Excuses of varying degrees of believability bounced off the walls as three more bodies scampered to freedom.

It took all of ten seconds for most of the lounge’s inhabitants to disperse, leaving Kayo and Alan alone with a somewhat disappointed looking Grandma Tracy.

“Oh well,” the Tracy matriarch sighed, reaching to pick up the blue snowman that had been ejected over the first floor bannister, “There’s always next year.”

Kayo smiled thinly and made a mental note to spend next Christmas with her father.

-x-

As well as being the family fashionista, Gordon was also a self-appointed expert in gift giving.

His affinity for making people smile helped tremendously, since it made the process of choosing something his recipient would find meaningful much easier. He wasn’t adverse to buying his brothers practical gifts that they could use in their everyday lives (the tea cosy he’d bought for John the Christmas of fifty four was still in active service), but he knew they had all of the utilitarian gadgets they could ever want or need, courtesy of Brains and their nine figure bank account.

Cue unicorn poo bath bombs, flamingo slippers, and personalised face cushions.

This year however, he’d outdone himself.

Unbeknownst to anyone outside of the family, Gordon was quite the expert on upcycling. He had a knack for seeing potential in things that other people had written off as trash (like Scott, for instance), and took great delight in working with his hands. 

It had taken several days, but he’d finally managed to relocate one of their dad’s old hoverbikes from the ranch to Tracy Island. It had taken up most of the room inside Thunderbird Four’s dry tube station, however he’d managed to offload it in the hanger and perform the desired modifcations in the (relative) privacy of Four’s module. 

Alan had stopped believing in Santa when he was seven. With Lucy dead and Jeff away for three quarters of the year, Scott had taken it upon himself to safeguard whatever remained of his youngest brother’s innocence. Every year on Christmas Eve, without fail, the eldest Tracy donned a red suit and beard and made a big (and often loud) show of depositing presents under the tree. Unfortunately, a rather heated debate one year over Santa’s handwriting (which looked suspiciously similar to Virgil’s), had culminated in the death of Alan’s wide-eyed belief.

Gordon had found the whole debacle rather heart-breaking. Sure, he’d been a year younger than Alan when he himself had stopped believing, but the process had been much gentler. He’d made the innocent mistake of asking John one year to help him with some basic calculations regarding the speed and size of Santa’s sleigh, however had ended up on the receiving end of a lecture from his redheaded brother on reindeer anatomy and wind resistance.

His belief had died peacefully in its sleep nine hours later. 

Still, having a belief squished verbally was a lot less harsh than having it squished visually. Poor Alan.

Gordon smiled to himself as he inspected his handiwork. He’d outfitted the storage compartment on the back of the red hoverbike he’d abducted to look like the back end of a sleigh. He’d toyed with the idea of enlisting the help of a couple of real life reindeer (or ponies) to act as draught animals, but had decided against it after reviewing the vaccination and transport requirements. 

Despite managing to complete the modifications inside Four’s module, Gordon had been forced to relocate his creation elsewhere when he and Virgil had been called away on an impromptu rescue involving a couple of unqualified divers. With his back against the wall, the aquanaut had picked the first alternative hiding place that had come into his head.

The roof.

As ridiculous as it sounded, the glass roof of Tracy Island’s lounge was anchored into numerous rocky outcroppings that, when utilised effectively, provided excellent cover. So long as nobody glanced up, of course.

A sigh of pride bubbled up Gordon’s diaphragm. He might not be able to reverse the damage caused by Virgil’s handwriting gaffe, but he could at least give his youngest brother a laugh and deliver his gifts in style instead.

So preoccupied was the aquanaut with buffing out an imaginary mark from the hoverbike’s bumper, that he failed to notice the Island’s automated weather system bark out the alarm for a storm warning.

Thankfully, John didn’t.

-x-

Scott had checked high and low.

And then high again, just to be sure.

The eldest Tracy was stumped. Gordon had somehow managed to vanish clean off the face of the earth.

Not that such a discovery would usually cause the eldest Tracy any concern (the aquanaut had a knack for evading capture), but Christmas lunch was due to be served any minute and they were one body short at the kitchen table.

“Gordon?” Scott called, shoving his head into the bathroom for what felt like the billionth time that hour. He’d tried calling the aquanaut’s phone, but had been sent to voicemail both times. His biometric tracker showed that he was still on the island, however couldn’t generate an exact location for him. EOS’s heat signature scans weren’t much better, courtesy of the wonky connection brought about by the oncoming storm. 

“I’m stumped,” Scott huffed, admitting defeat with a bemused shrug, “He’s gone. I’ve checked the hanger, the changing rooms, his room, the bathroom, and the gym. Nothing. It’s like he’s poofed into thin air.”

Virgil opened his mouth to reply, however was cut off by the arrival of John, whose expression was an expert blend of concern and flippancy. 

“I’ll give you three guesses as to his location,” the redhead began, “If you win, I’ll do your laundry for a week. If you lose, you have to eat my portion of grandma’s stuffing.”

Scott quickly did the math. It was a risk he was willing to take.

“Is he stuck inside his launch chute?”

“No.”

“Is he swimming in the lagoon?”

“No.”

“Is he hijacking Thunderbird One again?”

“No.”

….

“Well?” the eldest brother demanded, hands on hips. He had no interest in John drawing out his victory for any longer than necessary.

The redhead allowed a small smile to grace his face before gesturing with an index finger towards the ceiling.

Scott blinked as his blue gaze clapped onto a jean-clad butt scrabbling around atop the reinforced glass, oblivious to the small audience he’d amassed as he tried to evade the rapidly intensifying rain.

“The roof?” Scott honked, one hand fisting itself through his hair, “I take my eyes off him for two minutes, and he ends up on the roof?”

“Whoa, whoa!” a new voice piped up, it’s baritone depth failing to bring Scott any relief, “He’s where?!”

The eldest Tracy said nothing, opting instead to stab a finger upwards. Ever the cooperative one, Virgil cast his eyes in the desired direction, a small frown infecting his face as he did so.

“We should probably get him down,” the engineer announced, cringing when Gordon slipped on the now wet glass and starfished on his back, “He’s still wearing his Christmas jumper, and the blasted thing will short-circuit if it gets damp.”

A loud ‘thwack’ echoed around the lounge as Scott’s palm got itself well acquainted with his face.

-x-

John had never been one for big displays of emotion.

A polite smile or, in extreme cases, a shoulder pat were usually the preferred methods his brothers employed whenever they wanted to convey feelings of endearment towards him. 

Christmas was an exception, however, and it was without a shred of his usual awkwardness that the redhead enveloped his fish brother in a tight hug, the scent of singed fabric tickling his nostrils.

Virgil’s extraction of their younger brother hadn’t quite been quick enough, and it was with a suitable amount of humility that Gordon shuffled back into the safety and dryness of the lounge, a thin trail of smoke rising from the beak of his thoroughly soaked penguin jumper.

“How bad was it?” John queried, biting his cheek to keep his humour in check as he took in the static strands of hair atop Gordon’s head. The aquanaut looked as if he’d just stuck his finger inside a plug socket which, on reflection, wasn’t as much of an inaccurate analogy as the redhead had originally thought.

Gordon ignored his space brother in favour of slowly shuffling towards the staircase, an involuntary yelp escaping when his traitorous jumper suddenly gave off a stray spark.

Virgil snorted and flicked a hand through his hair to rid it of the rainwater it had collected, “Nothing to worry about on the health side of things, but man John, you should have seen it. He nearly took off like a firework.”

The redhead quirked an unimpressed brow, “Serves him right for skipping over the electrical safety briefings I sent down last week. You’d think he’d have a better understanding of how water and electricity don’t mix, what with his ‘Bird being the only one kitted out for aquatic reconnaissance.” 

  A shrug was offered by Virgil in lieu of a response, “I’m sure all will be revealed once he’s properly earthed himself. Meanwhile, I’d better get that hoverbike down before it crashes through the roof and lands on someone’s head. Can you send Scott up to help? I could use a couple of his grapples.”

John threw his brother a mock salute before breezing off towards the kitchen, only to stop when he caught sight of a familiar blue outline on one of the sofas.

“Be there in a minute!” Scott mumbled, his cheeks bulging like an oversized hamster as he chomped his way through an indulgent looking doughnut.

John felt his gaze darken as he took stock of the stray sprinkles in the corner of his eldest brother’s mouth, “Where did you get those?”

Scott held a finger up as he swallowed, thumping his chest when a stubborn piece of dough got lodged, “Mainland, to make up for grandma’s sprout and salmon tart. Help yourself, there’s plenty left. I’ve only had three.”

The lack of control Scott had when confronted with unhealthy snacks never failed to amaze his brothers.

“You want to take it easy,” Virgil warned, motioning with one hand to his waistline, “Too many of those could send you to an early grave.”

Scott flicked his hand dismissively and reached for a fourth doughnut.

“Don’t care. I won’t be the one carrying the coffin.”

- FIN -

[youralternantpersonality]

Thanksgiving

Paul x Reader: Thanksgiving

Warning: Child Protective Services (CPS) and Adult Protective Services (APS) involvement mentioned. Death of elderly, and implication of abuse and neglect are written

Takes place LONG after the war with the Volturi; Renesmee is 16 and Jake JUST imprinted on her. Not when she was a baby. Let’s just act like Bella didn’t almost die when she had her and they just moved away until recently, okay? Cool.

Also like I said before, all the imprints are the same age as the guys. No pedophilia bs is EVER in my stories.

***

I met Leah in my Sophomore year at Washington State. I was going into Development and Family Structure whereas she was going in to be an RN like her mother. We met in a Health and Sex class that was considered as an elective course. Because we had to travel across campus to make it to this class, we always ended up sitting in the back of the class together. Eventually creating a friendship that you’d rarely see develop and stick together. Now, we’re Juniors and I am currently packing to head to La Push with her and her boyfriend Lajohn for Thanksgiving since I didn’t have a family.

I was lucky if I’m honest. I was given to the state at 12 after CPS finally indicated that my parents weren’t fit to take care of me and my grandmother. Unfortunately, it took the death of my grandmother for anyone to do anything. Although I was given to the state at 12, I didn’t leave until I was 18. The likelihood of getting adopted after 10 is slim. I was happy for those who did, but it hurt to see some of them come back. You realize through others that just because the idea of parenting is wonderful, being a parent is completely different. I was lucky enough to take advantage of resources that were provided for me and some of the other kids that lead me to this point.

I got my first job at 16 and worked from then onward. I applied to college and financial aid as fast as I was able to so that I wouldn’t be alone. I receive enough grants and scholarships for my associates and now working on my bachelor's. My previous roommates were, well, trash; which motivated me to get a job and move into the nearby apartments. My roommates now are chill, we all just don’t talk to one another. Which lead me back to this moment at my apartment.

“I don’t know what to wear!” I said looking in my closet for a perfect outfit to bring to Thanksgiving.

“I don’t know why you’re stressing about it. I told you, no one is going to care. But, if you’re that worried, wear the ripped jeans and the black off the shoulder sweater shirt. Oh! And the booties!” Leah said going through my closet. Even though she says and acts like she doesn’t care about fashion and appearance, I know deep down in the pits of hell that we call her soul, that she really and truly still doesn’t, but she has a soft spot for it.  

“Thank you! Oh, and I’m mad at you, you bitch.” I said packing up the outfit.

“What, why?”

“You got your eyebrows done without me! You see mine looking like Chewbacca over here!”

“I’d say more like baby Chewbacca…”

“That’s not the point!”

“Sorry, look, it should be around 12:30 or 1 by the time we get to Seattle, we’ll stop there. I promise.” She says smiling while hugging me. Bitch.

“Fine. Now let’s go before Lajohn comes up here like a brat crying.” We laugh and start heading towards the door. We have a long seven and a half hours to get to La Push. Let’s see how this goes.

~

We stop to get something to eat, fill up, and get my eyebrows done. Lajohn took that time to fall asleep in the car because knowing us, we’d get sidetracked and find some shit for everyone. But we resisted! Mainly because our paychecks don’t come in until next week and I’m barking on this dinner and the leftovers (if there is any based on what Leah tells me about her brothers) to last me until then.

 Paul’s POV

“Alright guys, now Leah is bringing her friend Y/n. can we please not repeat what happened when she brought Lajohn over to meet us.” Sam said, looking directly at Quil, Collin, and me.

“I swear I didn’t start it!” Collin tried to defend himself.

“It doesn’t matter who did or didn’t start it! We can’t have y/g knowing what we are. Lajohn is Leah’s imprint, she’s just her friend. Got it!” Jacob stated. I rolled my eyes but said nothing. I won’t lie though, I haven’t seen someone run as fast as he did, especially when he is almost as big as us and just as human as the next person.

“We won’t, I promise. Scouts honor.” Making a joke about this situation.

“You weren’t in boy-scouts Paul,” Jared said.

“That’s beside the point. Look, we’re not going to do anything to out us again.” I said with a smile. Not one person believed a damn thing I said, hell I don’t think I did either. But it’s worth a shot.

“Well now that we have that settled, we have to meet up with the Cullen’s. There’s going to be some unwelcome visitors stopping by in a few days, and the last thing we need is to deal with this on Thanksgiving.” Jacob said. We all got up and begrudgingly met up with the leeches. Can’t they give us a break?

Y/n POV

We pull up to this cozy small house with a swing set on the porch. A lady who I’ve seen in Leah’s room steps out of the house to greet us. I can positively assume she’s Leah’s mom.

“Lajohn! How are you!” She says, ready to embrace the giant man twice her size. Compared to Ms. Clearwater, he was a good foot and a half above her. Compared to Leah, a half a foot maybe. He was “6’7”, black hair in a fade, soft brown eyes, mocha skin, slim yet buff, and a complete gentle giant. He and Leah met in their anatomy class. She said she walked into class late after getting lost and the only seat available was in the front. The bad news was, she had one of those teachers who was a stickler and a petty asshole. He made it hell for her. The good news was, she met Lajohn who was good at the class and had no problem tutoring her. It was “Love at first sight” for both of them.

“Sounds like some hallmark bullshit. Let me guess, it was raining, you were soaking wet, and by the end of class he gave you his jacket and you looked into each other eyes and BAM! Instant connection.” I laughed. She rolled her eyes and smiled.

“Yeah, yeah, shut up Bunny. One day, it’ll happen to you. $20 says it will”

“What, falling in love or love at first constipation?” she gives me a look, and I just smile.

“Love you too Leah-bird” I laugh.

I snap back to reality to Leah joking around with another person coming out of the house. He looked just as big as Lajohn but resembled Leah and her mom. I can assume this was Seth. I step out and walk over to everyone as Lajohn goes to the car to get our luggage.

“Mom, this is my best friend-”

“Holy shit, Leah can make friends!?” Said the babyface giant.

“Will you shut up Seth! Yes, I can. Can you get a girlfriend? No, you can’t. So, hush.”

“Ouch Leah. That hurt.” He says folding his arms over his heart and rolling his eyes with a sad look on his face. I just want to make him cookies and tell him its okay.

“Anyways, this is my best friend Y/n. Y/n/n, this my mother Sue and my annoying-”

“Yet handsome.”

“-Little brother, Seth.” She says, ignoring him completely.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you guys. I’ve seen pictures of you guys back at Leah’s apartment and she talks about home all the time.”

“It's nice to meet you too Y/n. Come on in and let the guys get your stuff.”

“Yeah, Seth, chop-chop little puppy,” Leah says clapping her hands to rush him. He just looks at her and gives her the finger when their mom isn’t looking and walks towards the back of the car. I can hear him and Lajohn talking about some pack of cold ones. I don’t think Seth is old enough to drink…

The next day: Thanksgiving

For the rest of yesterday evening, Leah and Ms. Sue (who keeps on insisting I drop the Ms. Part; I will not, my grandmother taught me to always say Mr., Ms., and Mrs.,) showed me around town and I was able to meet Emily and Sam, and Jacob and Billy. They seemed welcoming. Emily especially, although, Sam, Jacob, and Billy seemed on edge with me. I told that to Leah and she reassured me that their faces and attitudes are always like that with everyone. Lajohn eased my worrying saying they were worse with him because he was dating Leah. He was more scared of Seth and their mom out of everyone though.

Currently, Leah, Ms. Sue, Lajohn, and I are on our way to Emily and Sam’s place. When we pull up, we’re greeted by her and a few other girls from the reservation. We walk up and I’m automatically hugged by this small “5’8” girl with wild layered hair with streaks of color in it.

“Hey everyone! Y/n, this is my niece Clair. Sorry, she just gets excited about meeting new people. And this is Halulah and Kim, Embry and Jared’s girlfriends. Come one inside, the guys will be back in an hour or so. That should give us enough time to finish the turkey and dessert.” I waved at them and we all went inside. That time was short-lived until we heard wolves howling in the distance and Sam and Lajohn were out the door. I was about to ask what that was about but was cut off by Leah shoving plates in my hands to set up the table.

A little while later, we hear laughter and thumping of footsteps coming from the front door.

“HONEY I’M HOME! Ouch! Jared! What was that for?!” one voice said.

“For being a dumbass, that’s why.” I assume is Jared’s voice.

“Language!” said Seth followed by a loud punch and a yelp from him.

“Ouch, damnit Paul! That hurt!” said Seth.

“LaNgUaGe!” said, who I can assume is Paul with a bolstering laugh. Emily rolled her eyes and looked at Sam, who looked at them before they turned the corner. A choir of “sorry” and “my bad” was said before they showed themselves.

“Y/n, I’d like you to meet my children for all intended purposes. The boy who is giving Clair a piggyback ride to is Quil; the boy hugging Halulah is Embry—the one I told you about. This is Jared, Kim’s—godforsaken—boyfriend.”

“Hey! I’m not that bad!” she ignores him.

“Jake should be here with his girlfriend Nessie in a little bit, and the one behind us thinking I CAN’T SEE HIM STEALING THE TURKEY! Is Paul.” I looked behind her and catch a red-handed guilty-looking, Paul.

“Hey, at least I tri-” he stops mid-sentence as our eyes connect. I felt like I was in my apartment room reaching cloud 9. Everything around me blurred and all I saw was him. I felt my heart skip a beat and was knocked the air out of me. I couldn’t move, didn’t hear a sound, and kind of dizzy. I snap back when I hear laughter.

“Aww! Bunny! See! I told you it would happen!” Leah says laughing. I look at her confused then looked back at everyone else who was laughing too. Paul coughed and I looked at him. His expression went from being shocked, angry, sad, then content and surprised. He looked at Sam then walked over to me. Standing in front of me, he smiles and introduces himself.

“Hey, I’m Paul. What’s your name beautiful?” Damn, I guess I owe Leah $20.

[falseroar]

Dog Days Part 8: Doctor’s Appointment

((A look around one doctor’s office leads Abe to check in with another, although an unexpected find throws the hunter off in his investigation.

Yeah, again, sorry this took so long to get here. This part is on the longer side though, and I have a few more that should be ready to go up over the next couple of days. I’m also hoping to get this story done without any more big breaks.

Since it’s been a while, here’s a link to Part 7: Leaving the Clinic, and one for the entire series so far.))

It was a long night, and Abe might have almost dozed off once or twice or half a dozen times, but he kept his watch on the front door of the clinic and the steady trickle of people entering and leaving throughout the dark hours. Some were in and out in less than half an hour, others took longer, but by his count no one went in that didn’t come out. So that was one easy point in the doctor’s favor, although missing patients sure would have made ending this case early a possibility.

No, the last patient left around 4:30 AM, and it was in the still darkness of 5 AM before the doctor himself stepped out of the clinic and locked the door behind him.

Interesting--even with the late sunrise in the fall, that didn’t leave much time before dawn. Unless the vampire was willing to cut it close, he couldn’t live that far from his clinic, especially as the doctor turned and began walking away rather than going to one of the cars parked on the street.

Abe hesitated. He had two immediate options: follow the doc and see where he holed up during the day, or check out the clinic.

As soon as the doctor rounded the corner, the hunter impulsively jumped out of his car, only to nearly wind up face first in the gutter along with the leaves and trash when his head and body refused to cooperate.

Right. How long had it been since he last got some real sleep? And that little binge he went on back at the house yesterday hadn’t helped much. His head pounded as his vision shifted before resettling, and he swallowed back a bad taste in the back of his mouth while he leaned against the car and waited for his legs to wake up.

On second thought, maybe checking out the doc’s clinic while he could be sure it was empty was the real way to go. There would be other chances to see where the vampire spent his days.

Abe trudged across the silent street to the front door of the office and looked around, despite the obvious lack of anyone else out at this unholy hour of the morning, before kneeling down in front of the lock. A few minutes working with his personal set of lock picks, followed by a quick search that turned up a spare key hidden behind a loose brick, and he was in.

He closed the door softly behind him, waiting for several heartbeats to make sure the building really was silent, before he started looking around the place.

First up was the waiting room, which was clean and well taken care of, but Abe noticed that not all of the chairs matched, like they had been bought secondhand separately rather than as a set, and while he didn’t know much about art, the calming paintings on the walls all had a bargain bin look to them. Behind the receptionist’s desk, he found an older PC that he didn’t bother with turning on, and more importantly a binder full of dated sign-in sheets.

For a moment, he perked up at the idea of a record of the kind of people who came here, but after turning through a few pages of obviously false names, including the occasional that looked like someone couldn’t even be bothered (unless some parents out there really decided to call their kid ‘Burnt Arm’) he decided that was a bust. There was an appointment book, but all of the entries were little more than a time and set of initials, with the occasional note in what looked to possibly be German, although the writing was so cramped and hurried that it might as well have been scribbles to Abe.

Seeing nothing else of interest, Abe opened the door next to the desk onto a small hallway, where the first door was to the office of the doctor himself. Right where he could keep both doors open in order to keep an eye on the waiting room if needed, a suspicion that grew stronger when Abe spotted the twin door stoppers near the wall. There were only a few examining rooms, a set of swing doors, and then a door at the end of the hall marked as the supply closet, and that was the entire place.

So, the clinic took on patients who weren’t keen on giving their real names, and judging from the décor and the size of the place they either weren’t the kind of clientele to pay out a lot or the kind to care about the look of the place, although both was definitely an option. If this handwriting belonged to the doctor like Abe suspected, then he was doing desk work that could be put off on a receptionist or nurse. Either this Henrik guy worked alone or he couldn’t keep someone else around every night, and Abe was just self-aware enough not to start guessing why that might be.

Deciding to work his way from the back to the front, Abe checked the supply closet first and found nothing out of the ordinary, or at least as far as he could guess. It was a large room, with a cot set to one side with a neatly folded blanket on top of it, which combined with the lack of windows must have made it a decent enough back up plan if the doctor couldn’t get home before sunrise. There were bulk packages of standard medical equipment and first aid supplies, but it wasn’t like this place was equipped to be a pharmacy or anything. And no body bags or stash of refrigerated and conveniently labeled stolen blood packs, which was…probably fortunate, although Abe would have appreciated an excuse to wrap this case up early and get the information he wanted in exchange already.

But walking through the set of swing doors next showed that this place wasn’t just for taking care of the occasional burn or bruise. Abe took one look at the small area with its sinks and gowns and other prep supplies and the glass window that showed the surgery room beyond, and quickly backed out again.

There was nothing wrong about the room, it was thankfully clean and the most well-maintained place he had seen so far in the building, but the silent and waiting table in the center of a tiled and easily cleanable room surrounded by lights and waiting equipment gave his imagination far too much material to work with. The examination rooms also looked absolutely ordinary, although he tried not to think too hard about why someone would feel the need to use so much air freshener on top of the sharp scent of cleaning supplies when taking care of one room in particular.

Which just left the office of the doctor himself.

Despite being roughly the same size as any of the exam rooms, the space felt smaller thanks to the choice to add in shelves crammed with row after row of texts that hid any wall space that wasn’t already covered in framed diplomas and certificates, some of which looked a little sketchy to Abe. The desk was turned so that anyone sitting at it could see straight into the waiting room when both doors were open, again confirming Abe’s theory about the doctor running this place alone at least on occasion. Said desk had a stack of files waiting to be returned to the waiting cabinet, along with some random pieces of papers and other odds and ends.

A look at the shelves found a lot of medical texts, but Abe was surprised to find more than a few familiar titles. He pulled off one that was identical to one of his own, until he opened it and found that the doctor had taken a vastly different approach to his notes and underlining compared to the hunter’s when it came to, for example, the sections on the anatomy of kappas or the habits of nagas. While his own personal notes made corrections based on what he’d had to do to survive past cases, the doctor’s notes were about how to spot warning signs of blood loss or recommended hours of sleep.

Interesting, but not helpful.

Returning the book to the shelf, Abe turned to the desk and took a quick look through the files that were practically just begging for someone to take a peek. Again, any patient names or anything that could be used to identify them was reduced to a series of letters and numbers that meant nothing to Abe, but he could at least read the notes on suspected conditions and treatments. He even found “Burnt Arm” again, and more than enough to guess that at least half of these patients weren’t, in fact, human.

He closed the last file and made a conscious effort to forget what he read there as he tried to focus on what else was there on the doctor’s desk. A paperweight that looked like a spiral trapped in glass, a foam stress ball, some scattered notes that Abe skimmed over without actually reading until he realized that one of said notes was actually written on the back of a prescription note from a local hospital. The handwriting on the prescription was different but somehow just as terrible as the doctor’s, and while he couldn’t read that he could read the type on the header: “From the desk of Dr. Iplier.”

“Finally,” Abe muttered to himself as he made a note of the name and hospital in his own notebook. A lead, or at least a contact of Dr. Schneeplestein’s who might have something to say against or in defense of the vampire.

There was nothing else of interest on the desk, and Abe took just enough of a look in the file cabinet to determine that it was full of more confidential patient files. Even if he had the time to go through them all, he felt just uncomfortable enough about the idea to give it a pass for now. Ready to call it a day and get out of here before the rest of the city woke up and someone spotted him leaving, Abe did pause to check the drawers of the desk.

The top drawer was filed with an assortment of pens, pencils, paperclips, and other office supplies, and the one underneath was filled with spare paper and notepads and a few more files.

And, tucked away in the corner where Abe might have missed it if it hadn’t caught the light overhead, a small, round plastic container with a label on the side that proved to be blank when he pulled it out.

And resting inside was a misshapen, used bullet, blood still clinging to its silver surface.

---

Abe spent too long, checking the files, looking for any sign of the patient who had entered the clinic with that silver bullet inside of them, but there was nothing. Nothing, except for a scribbled note on one of the crumpled pieces of paper that littered the desk.

How to trace?

Nothing on its own, if Abe hadn’t recognized the names and numbers of some local weapons dealers, along with the contact information of the Institute that was hastily but not completely scribbled out.

Abe made his own copy of the list, although his hand was shaking so bad that he could barely read his own handwriting. When he stepped outside of the clinic a few minutes later, he had to lean against the brick wall outside and catch his breath in the dawning sunlight before he locked the door behind him and returned the spare key to its hiding place.

He should go back to the office, try to get some sleep, think about this, he knew all that. Just as much as he knew that he wouldn’t be able to sleep at all while the image of that used bullet was still in the back of his mind. At least, not until he was so exhausted that there wasn’t any other choice but to close his eyes.

Determined to at least get something useful done until then, Abe got back into his car and took a little drive.

Aside from the patients who had to be there early for surgery and the regular ER crowd, the hospital was relatively quiet when Abe walked in the front doors, feeling close to naked without his heavy hunter’s jacket and accompanying weapons that for some reason weren’t welcome in this establishment. Muttering under his breath and rolling up his shirtsleeves, Abe made his way to the reception desk only to stop short at the familiar face standing behind it.

“What the hell?” Abe said aloud before he could stop himself.

“Good morning,” Google answered, although his stare suggested anything but it. “Do you have an appointment?”

“Wha—Is that it? Is your client another doctor, is that what’s going on here?” Abe asked, and the Google unit’s frown only grew more pronounced.

“I do not understand what you are talking about. If you wish to make an appointment, please specify the doctor you are looking for. If this is an emergency, I can direct you to our Emergency Room where trained staff is standing by.”

“You don’t understand—” Abe sighed and ran a hand over his face before moving closer to the desk and lowering his voice. “I’m here about what we discussed yesterday, remember?”

Google looked him up and down behind his glasses, and Abe swore he could hear the hum of magic and electricity whirring behind that chest before he spoke again. “Your face does not match any of my records. Perhaps you are thinking of another magitek unit?”

“Look, if you can’t talk about it now, just say so, but don’t pretend you’re someone else just because you have on a different shirt now,” Abe said. The green shirt was literally the only difference he could see between this man and the one standing outside his office yesterday, and even then, they both had the same “G” on their chest for crying out loud. “I’m here to see a Dr. Iplier. Which way to his office?”

“…I would argue this point further, but I suspect that would be an inefficient use of my resources. Please wait while I check Dr. Iplier’s schedule,” he said before freezing, his eyes focusing on some point in the mid distance while Abe wondered if he had just been insulted. Just as Abe was thinking about checking a directory and hoping for the best once he found the right floor, Google suddenly came back to himself and said, “Dr. Iplier does not have an official appointment until 9 AM. However, he has noted that he is expecting someone to come by this morning and that I am to let them pass without question.”

“Fantastic,” Abe said, already questioning the security around here but not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. “Can you tell me the way to his office?”

Hell of a name, Dr. Iplier. Part of Abe was tempted to ask if there was a relation, but he knew Mark had changed his name when he started acting and even then he only picked a name he liked the sound of. Still didn’t sit right with him, when he had to say it out loud after all these years.

Said doctor barely had time to look up at the knock before his office door opened and the hunter let himself in. There was only a slight pause before he asked, “Can I help you?”

“Yeah, yeah I think maybe you can,” Abe said. “That Google thing up front, he work for you?”

“Google is considered to be hospital property, so in a sense, yes he does,” Dr. Iplier said, slowly putting his pen down. “Why do you ask? He hasn’t caused another...incident, has he?”

“Another one?” Abe paused at that but decided to press on with the train of thought already in progress. “Hospital property. So if someone who worked for the hospital, maybe a doctor perhaps, were to send that thing to, say, my office, you could do that?”

The doctor started to say something, stopped, and then started again. “I’m sorry, are you saying that you saw that Google outside of the hospital yesterday? Because that’s impossible, that magitek unit is bound to these premises, it literally cannot leave the building without a serious rewrite of its system.”

“…What?” Abe said, feeling the sudden rush of having figured all this out just as quickly evaporating with each passing second. “Wait, there really is…more than one…”

The doctor nodded with almost condescending patience while Abe felt he could have started this conversation off better by just going ahead and shooting himself in the foot. But one doctor using someone else to accuse another doctor of some vague and as yet undiscovered scandal just to put his practice under and maybe gain some new business, it would have been so simple.

“Yes, that Google was a donation, I believe, straight from the creator, but I really don’t know much more than that,” Dr. Iplier confessed. “You’ll have to ask someone else if you want to know more, magic and technology aren’t really my area of specialty. Now, unless you’re here about a medical issue and willing to make an appointment, would you kindly leave?”

His tone more than anything was enough to snap Abe out of his disappointment and straight back into his usual resting state of anger and accusations.

“How about if I have a medical question for someone else? One I think you might be familiar with,” Abe said, pacing slowly across the plush carpet of the doctor’s office which was much less cluttered than Dr. Schneeplestein’s and offered more space to move around and ignore the waiting chair opposite the doctor’s desk.

“When a vampire enters the city, they have to get through a whole rigamarole to get registered, right? Been that way for—a while, yeah?” Abe started, pausing only slightly when he tried to recall when that became a thing. He could remember clearly the whole upset that caused along with the other Bronson Institute-backed policies, but it all started to blend together after a while. “Public hospitals like this one are involved in that process, right?”

“That’s…correct,” Dr. Iplier answered, his tone and expression clearly showing his confusion at trying to piece together how this was connected to Abe’s other questions. “Mercy Green is one of several hospitals that are part of the sponsorship program. I can’t speak of the number, of course, but we do have some…participants who are scheduled to come by and pick up their rations.”

“You do know you can just say blood, right?” Abe said. “Where’s that blood come from, again?”

“Well, we do have some donors who come through us to give to certain participants in a safe, controlled environment, but the majority of it comes from recently deceased people who had already agreed to be donors, similar to how we get organ donations. We can’t use that blood for living patients, but the vampire immune system is capable of handling it.”

Abe nodded along like he was listening, but this was all stuff he already knew. His real focus was on the doctor, the way he sometimes hesitated before choosing the “appropriate” word, the way his eyes watched the hunter but at one point flickered downward and to his left. Moving on the pretense of examining the doctor’s license on the wall (from Nicaragua, a fact which on a normal probably would have earned a few questions on its own), Abe turned around and caught a glimpse of the mini fridge under the doctor’s desk.

Interesting.

“Why exactly are you asking me about this?” Dr. Iplier asked. “This is all public information; you can literally find all this out by looking online or attending one of the Institute’s outreach events. And I would hope that a hunter would know this.”

Abe couldn’t resist glancing down, wondering what had given him away with all of his usual gear back in his car. Deciding to brush it off for now, he answered, “I like to brush up on what I think I know every now and then. For example, I know registered vamps are limited on how much they can ‘withdraw.’ But what I want to know is if there are any signs that a vampire might be sucking a little off the top.”

The doctor’s expression became very fixed, and after a second to hear to replay what he just said, Abe quickly corrected himself, “I mean, what’s it look like if someone’s drinking more than they’re allowed?”

“…Right,” Dr. Iplier said, after a cough to clear his throat. “Are you familiar with the feeling of coming off of a hangover?”

“We’re acquainted,” Abe answered. Acquainted, lived together with so long that he might as well be common law married to the feeling, same thing.

“Based on the way they describe it, one step above that is where your typical vampire is at while on the current ration. Just enough to keep them from, and again not my choice of words, going ‘feral.’ With the right support network and regular rations, they can control their impulse to feed, but in my experience, most turn to something else to take the edge off, such as caffeine or alcohol or binge-watching sitcoms, that sort of thing.”

“Sounds like a recovering addict waiting to snap,” Abe pointed out. “One missed ration and it’s over.”

“Unfortunately, yes. That’s what comes of keeping people at the bare minimum to survive,” Dr. Iplier said, and Abe saw the small wince around his eyes as the doctor immediately regretted his words. “That is, I can see why there are campaigns to change the arrangement, and it’s less surprising when a vampire turns to alternative methods for acquiring additional blood. In that case, I suspect the obvious signs would be…more energy, less reliance on coping mechanisms, greater tolerance for typical weaknesses such as garlic or sunlight in limited doses, such as being able to go out on cloudy days, that sort of thing. Depending on the quality and how much of an illegal supply they have access to, they’re also more likely to forget about their official rations, which makes a registered vampire failing to show up a huge red flag for multiple and equally bad reasons.”

The doctor fidgeted with the pen in his hand before firmly placing it down on the desk and sitting back in his chair. “Fortunately, I’m proud to say that this hospital has had a 100% success rate in keeping our registered undead healthy and a non-issue for Institute…employees such as yourself.”

Abe’s palm hit the doctor’s desk with a loud smack and honestly a bit of a sting, but the hunter didn’t allow himself to wince as he leaned toward the doctor and said, “I may be a hunter, but I’m not with the Institute. Believe it or not, I have standards, and I need to know if—if I can…”

He trailed off, distracted by a scent he had failed to notice before, one that he was quickly able to trace to the bottle on the corner of the doctor’s desk. Despite being sealed, the smell of the liquid inside had managed to penetrate out, and just a whiff of it was enough to completely derail any of Abe’s remaining thoughts.

“…Hunter?” Dr. Iplier prompted once the silence went on a little too long, his eyes nervously tracing out the bead of sweat that had appeared on the hunter’s brow while his mind seemed to be miles, or decades, away.

“Sorry, that’s…I knew a witch who made a burn cream that—it just smells the same, I…” Abe’s words wandered out, his mind back on the small bottle he left on the District Attorney’s desk all those years ago.

“Yes, I wouldn’t be surprised if more than a few of our medicines came from that kind of source,” Dr. Iplier admitted as he picked up the bottle and shook the contents inside. “I could see why a hunter would use it, it’s certainly strong stuff.”

Strong enough to heal silver burns on a werewolf. Abe swallowed, remembering the color draining from the District Attorney’s face, their hand pressed to their side.

“Are you okay?” The doctor’s voice sounded far away as Abe’s mind went back to that house, to the used silver bullet in Schneeplestein’s office, to his promise to get them out of there, to the blast of the gun firing and his own chest burning with each heartbeat he shouldn’t have.

It was the knock at the office door that snapped Abe out of it, or at least gave hive him the sense to get out of here now before he said or did something he would regret. How long had it been since he’d had any sleep? And add that little binge at the house yesterday before keeping watch in a car all night, and it was becoming more and more obvious to Abe that coming here was a stupid mistake. Mumbling something about needing to keep an appointment, Abe yanked open the door just in time to surprise the young man standing on the other side, his hand raised to knock again.

“Oh, uh, sorry, I didn’t realize someone else was in here,” he said. “I’m just here to pick up something—"

“Don’t worry about it, I was just leaving,” Abe muttered as he brushed by, only to pause and look again once he was out in the hallway. “…Do I know you?”

Young guy, bright eyes under the brim of that dad cap he was wearing even if they were ringed with dark hollows that looked like Abe’s own bags, jeans, t-shirt, he looked like every other kid Abe saw around these days, but he couldn’t shake the feeling even as the guy shrugged.

“Don’t think so, unless you’ve seen my vlogs?” he answered, although his tone suggested he didn’t think Abe fit in the usual audience. A good guess, since Abe didn’t even know what a vlog was.

“Never mind,” Abe muttered as he shook his head and kept walking, eager to get some fresh air.

Chase looked over his shoulder at the hunter and then back at Dr. Iplier, who could only muster a half-hearted shrug before inviting him in.

((End of Part 8. Thank for you reading, and thank you all for being patient with me!

Link to Part 9: Preparations.

Tagging: @silver-owl413 @skyewardlight @withjust-a-bite @blackaquokat @catgirlwarrior @neverisadork @luna1350 @oh-so-creepy @weirdfoxalley @95fangirl @lilalovesinternet-l @thepoolofthedead @a-bit-dapper @randomartdudette @geekymushroom @cactipresident @hotcocoachia @purple-anxiety-blog @shyinspiredartist @avispate @missksketch @autumnrambles @authorracheljoy @liafoxyfox ))

[lullabieswrappedinlies]

A Happy New Year

Summary: While awkwardly navigating a friend’s New Year’s party, you and John cross paths for the first time.  Pairing: John Krasinski x Reader Word Count: 1895 Warnings: Celebratory/social drinking. 

A/N: Okay, here it. My first posted John Krasinski fic! I’ve been a fan of this guy for longer than I realized, but the crisis recently took over. As I mentioned before, I’m known in the other fandoms for writing fluffy, cliche fics ... and this is just that. I hope you all enjoy it - I have a part two planned, if you do! Please reblog if you feel so inclined, as I would love for as many people to read this as possible :) 

Tags: @professorkrasinski​ @booklover1814​ (Thanks for agreeing to be tagged!)

The house was already bustling with people by the time you arrived — late, as usual. You hung your coat in the closet in the entryway and smoothed out your comfy sweater. The party had been deemed casual, but you knew your friend and her other friends well enough to know that a t-shirt and a ponytail just weren’t going to do the trick. You still had opted for a nice pair of jeans and boots, but you made sure your hair and makeup were done to impress. 

You searched through the house for the hostess, and finally found her pouring drinks in the kitchen. You snuck one from the row of glass tumblers and winked at her. 

“You’re here!” she squealed, setting down the bottle of Southern Comfort and coming around the island to hug you tightly. “I’m so happy to see you, I forgive you for snagging that drink.”

You giggled and returned the embrace with one arm. “Happy New Year to you, too. There’s so many people here!”

She finished pouring the drinks then put them on a tray. She nodded with her head for you to follow her, so you did. 

“It’s the first time Chris and I are hosting a holiday together, and I’m having multiple anxiety attacks,” she sighed, handing drinks off as she went. “He’s got a million people on the guest list. I had you and like a handful of other people, most of which decided to stay in Jersey instead of coming to Boston.”

You raised your brow. “So I know nobody here but you? Ash …”

She gripped your arm tight. “Please, Y/N. I’m begging you. Stick with me through this — I’m freaking out over here!”

Though you weren’t crazy about the crowd or not knowing anyone, Ashley was your best friend. For that reason only, you knocked back the majority of the contents in the glass you had swiped not that long ago and told her you were going to need some beer. 

“Not a problem. I’ll get you a beer, and we’ll just stick together for the rest of the night.”

That, of course, lasted all of about five minutes. You were tossing the cap from your beer bottle into the trash and when you turned around, Ashley was off with Chris’s arm around her. She was smiling and laughing; you just chuckled to yourself. She’d come find you later. Hopefully. 

You sipped at your beer and meandered through the party, recognizing a few people here and there from around the city, but no one that you knew well enough to stop and talk to. So, you continued to meander. 

When you had first moved to Boston, you used to walk by this house and wonder who lived here, what the inside was like. Then, Ashley had started dating Chris and your questions had all been answered. She still lived in New Jersey, but she came down as often as she could to see him. Sometimes, when you got bored, you’d call Chris and see if he was bored and the two of you would hang out. It was only because of those visits that you recognized a few of his friends here and there. 

Teasing yourself about being a Disney character, you found the library and quietly began to browse the titles that lined the shelves. Old and new, tattered and worn or in mint condition. Ashley had told you about this room before, but you hadn’t believed the amazingness of it until now. 

Your fingers floated over the spines of the hardback books until a particular title caught your eyes. Still holding the longneck in one hand, you pulled the book from the shelf and skimmed over the first few pages. 

“If you haven’t read that book, you should. It’s one of my favorites.”

The voice in the doorway called your attention away from the page you were reading. Quickly, you shut the book and placed it back in its proper spot on the shelf. 

“I don’t know if I’m supposed to be in here, but I don’t really know anyone so I was wandering the house. I live here and before Ashley started dating Chris, and I used to wonder what it was like on the inside, and then she told me about the library — that’s a run-on sentence. And I’m rambling.”

“You are,” the tall, vaguely familiar stranger nodded, but with a charmed laugh to accompany his comment. “And it was. I didn’t mean to spook you by the way. I noticed the light on and wanted away from the crowd myself. I’m John, by the way.”

He stepped into the room, extending his hand to shake yours. You wiped your hand on your jeans before slipping your hand firmly into his. His sudden presence had made you nervous, and in reaction, your palms had become slightly clammy. That was the last thing you wanted to pass on to this handsome guy. Then, you realized. 

“John,” you repeated, “John Krasinski. You’re the guy from that show …”

“The Office,” he offered with another amused smile. “Been a while since someone didn’t recognize me right off. Refreshing.”

You winced. “I’m sorry, I’m really horrible about watching new shows. I stick with Grey’s Anatomy and older shows, more or less.”

“Nothing wrong with that.”

He opened his mouth to say something else, but Ashley burst into the room. “Y/N! There you are! We’re starting beer pong. Let’s go! Oh, John, you can be Chris’s partner!”

She took you by the hand and dragged you away. You weren’t entirely sure that John was in tow until he appeared beside Chris on the other side of the beer pong table.

After a short tournament of three games, you and Ashley were declared the winners. There was no way you’d be getting back home in this state, but Ashley assured you that she had reserved a guest room for you. Since that was the case, you grabbed another bottle of beer and wandered back to the library. 

This time, you were only along for a few seconds before John showed up again. He greeted you by name and clinked his glass tumbler with your beer bottle. 

“Congrats on the win. Thank goodness Ashley said your name when she came to get you earlier. I wasn’t sure you’d give it to me otherwise.”

“I would have, eventually,” you assured. “I was nervous. Maybe. Tipsy, for sure.”

John nodded. “Can I show you something?”

Chewing on your bottom lip, you considered him carefully. You didn’t know him other than the fact that he was Chris’s friend. You were, however, just tipsy enough to slip your hand into his, leave your beer where it was, and allow him to lead you to the front closet. He waited patiently while you bundled up, then took you by the hand again and led you out to the sidewalk. 

A few blocks down, John tugged your hand to the left, across the calm street. Snow was starting to fall and the temperature seemed to be dropping by the hour. That didn’t stop you from excitedly following him through his loft apartment, out to the balcony. He left you there for a moment to admire the view, but came back with a big, flannel blanket. 

“That’s Fenway Park!” you exclaimed. “You can see this from your balcony? Like you just wake up every day and see the Green Monster?”

“I do. Ashley mentioned before how much you love the Red Sox.” John confirmed, wrapping one end of the blanket around you, and the other around himself. He pulled you in front of him so that he could pull both side of the blanket tight around the two of you — not an easy feat considering the height difference. “Are you warm enough? Can you see over the stadium okay?”

You nodded, leaning back into him. A part of you couldn’t believe this was happening; not one bit of it. Here you were, in this crazy romantic setting on New Year’s Eve, with a guy so far out of your league, it was like you were playing coach pitch and he was in the majors. The other part of you, though, the part with inhibitions lowered thanks to the beers, decided to drink it all in and let it happen. 

At the stroke of midnight, fireworks exploded over Fenway Park. You drew in a deep breath and watched in wonder as the colors lit up the sky. Even through the snow, the fireworks continued. 

When they finally ended, John opened the slider so you could get inside and get warm. He shook the snow from the blanket, then hurried inside himself. You took a deep breath and shrugged. 

“What now?”

“Now,” John replied, almost as though he was deciding even as he spoke, “I make you your favorite breakfast, and you tell me more about yourself.”

“Breakfast? At midnight?”

John nodded. “It’ll head off the hangover. I’ll tell you more about me. Maybe we’ll even watch The Office.”

You giggled and unzipped your coat. You laid it carefully over the arm of the chair, and slipped your shoes off, too. “French toast. And bacon. Please.”

John didn’t just smile this time; he grinned. 

While John cooked, you sipped at a tasty cup of coffee and told him about your life: where you had grown up, what made you decide to move to Boston, and how strongly you felt that you should have been in this city your whole life. 

“It is a pretty great place,” John agreed. “And what do you do for a living?”

You filled him in on that information while he plated a few pieces of French toast and bacon for each of you. When he sat across from you, you clapped excitedly; you hadn’t realized how hungry you were until food was an option. 

“Your turn,” you encouraged with a cheek full of French toast. “Tell me how you got to this point in your life.”

The next hour or so, the two of you filled your bellies and filled each other in on your basic life information. After you helped John with the dishes, the two of you sat on the couch. You were getting sleepy, so he offered the same blanket from the balcony, took a seat next to you, and covered both of you with the blanket. You leaned your head against his shoulder, and John put an arm around you. His hand landed at your hip. You were warm and cozy and fighting sleep in a matter of minutes. 

“I wanna see you again, but my life gets pretty crazy these days,” John told you quietly. 

You adjusted so your cheek was against his chest and nodded. “It’s okay. I’m having a great night, but I’m not sure I’m ready to be in any sort of limelight.”

John kissed the top of your head. “Guess we’ll just have to be secret lovers then.”

You responded with a sleepy chuckle. The kiss on your head had left you wanting more, so you tilted your chin up to him. “Happy New Year, John.”

“Happy New Year, Y/N.” 

Your lips met John’s halfway. That first contact was so soft and sweet, you were still feeling the butterflies when you took a cab home several hours later. 

[whtaft]

32 :)

“It’s a girl,” Steve says, handing a woman her screaming, tiny infant. She looks up at him teary-eyed. “Congratulations,” he says.

“She’s beautiful,” she says. “Thank you.”

“All in a day’s work. I’m proud to be a part of the miracle of life.”

— —

Twenty minutes later, he’s in the doctor’s lounge eating a packet of Twizzlers, drinking coffee out of a styrofoam cup, and wishing he were dead.

“You use the line?” Bucky asks.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Normally, he wouldn’t give Bucky Barnes the time of day, but it’s three in the morning and they’re the only two doctors actually in the lounge right now. It’s either talk to Bucky or talk to his own shoes and he’s not quite at that point yet.

“I’m proud to be a part of the miracle of life,” Bucky says in a mocking tone.

Steve rolls his eyes. “The parents love it.”

“This isn’t Chili’s. It’s not like you get tipped for your bedside manner,” Bucky says.

“I got handed $200 once.” And then he promptly returned it because it was probably unethical, but he doesn’t mention that.

Bucky raises one of eyebrows and takes a sip of his own styrofoam cup of tepid coffee. “You got one tip. Good for you.”

“Anyhow, I am a part of the miracle of life,” Steve mutters, frowning.

“So’m I, just the shitty part of it.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “It’s not like you’re doing colonoscopies.”

“Oh Lord,” Bucky says, rolling his eyes. Steve thinks of his mother, who used to say that if you rolled your eyes they’d get stuck that way. Bucky is living proof that the old adage isn’t true; if it were, he’d be walking around all day looking at the inside of his head. “Yeah, I just spend my days performing life-saving heart surgeries—”

“And you’re so much better than the rest of us, we know,” Steve says. He eats his final Twizzler and wishes for death. “Anything else you’d like to remind us of?”

“I’m really good in bed,” Bucky says with a shrug. “Or the supply closet. How much longer do you have until your break’s over?”

Steve blinks. “Thirty-five minutes,” he says.

“That’s enough time.” He finishes off the last of his coffee, then chucks his styrofoam  cup across the room to the trash can. Infuriatingly, the cup sails straight inside. “Let’s go.”

“You’re being pretty presumptuous,” Steve says.

Bucky sighs. “It’s three am, I’m exhausted, and I need a release. I think you do, too.”

On one hand, Steve should call HR. But on the other…

He finds himself pants down in the employee bathroom like a goddamn episode of Grey’s Anatomy.

Bucky looks up at him with a bit of cum dribbling down his chin. “Oh, the miracle of life,” he says, grinning.

Steve groans, knowing that he’ll never be able to say that to one of his patients again without thinking of Bucky Fucking Barnes down on his knees.

[yourdreamscenarios]

When you get a pneumonia

∙ Requested ♡ ∙ Word count: 3,026

∙ A/N: Hi everybody! How are you all? I’m back with another scenario from our lovely Jungkook. I hope you’ll enjoy...

What have you all been up to these days? I’ve been busy with work, as always. I also adopted a kitten a few days ago, she’s so lovely. Yet, I’ve got my hands full on her. Are you a dog or a cat person? I have both, so I’m not quite sure... 

“Good job everyone! Keep up the hard work and we will slay next weeks performance!” Amanda said, a huge grin covering her face as you all made your way back towards the dressing room. It had been a long and exhausting day, but after all you felt satisfied by how everything had gone by. You had been working towards these promotions for months and now that they were finally happening everything seemed so surreal. Your new album had dropped a few weeks ago and the plan was to promote it until the award shows which started next week. After all you did want your fans to be aware of your new songs before you’d go and perform them on huge shows like that. But things were looking good. You’d practiced and performed non stop for the last few days, always trying to improve yourselves. And the public loved it. Your album had entered the world with a loud bang and seemed to have taken over the entire country. Everyone seemed to be talking about it and things couldn’t have been more successful. It was as if you were all on cloud nine, celebrating the fact that for once everything seemed to be going according to plan. It seemed like these promotions were going to be the best you’d ever had in the history of your bands existence. 

“Did you see the audience? They were losing their minds! They already knew the entire lyrics to our songs.” Elena jittered beside you, and you smiled, glad to find her this happy. Yesterday, when she’d visited you inside of your hotel room, she’d still been worried that everything might go wrong. That your luck might end and things would go down hill from now on. But even her worried had faded after today’s concert. Taking a sip from the water bottle inside of your head you realized you were more thirty than you’d realized and emptied it in almost one go. Licking your lips you bowed towards the staff standing in the halls, who’d come to congratulate you. You frowned when you felt a slap against the shoulder and looked beside you to see who was responsible. Jessica shot you a bright smile and threw her arm around your shoulders as you walked on. “Why are you so quiet? Aren’t you happy?” She asked, and you stopped the need you felt to roll your eyes at her silly comment. Of course you were happy. But you were also tired, and you needed a hot tea and a warm bath to finish the night. You knew your friends would want to go on and celebrate this great night some more, but you simply couldn’t find the energy for it. 

You’d been having a cold since the start of last week. It had started with sneezing, a runny nose. But soon you’d gotten a soar throat and your almonds had swollen until they were twice their normal size. You hadn’t felt like doing much during the past few days but you’d still committed yourself to practice and work hard just like the rest of your members. Because you definitely weren’t letting them down because of a stupid cold. “Of course I’m happy.” You squeaked, your voice tired of straining it all day. It was a miracle you had been able to hit the right notes while singing, and you hadn’t sounded off key. But you knew that for the rest of the night you’d have to spare your voice if you wanted to be able to use it again tomorrow. You screwed the lid back onto your now empty water bottle and threw it in the trash as soon as you entered the dressing room. The couch was calling out for you and you didn’t fight it but walked straight towards it. Dropping down on the soft pillows you finally allowed your sore muscles to relax. Yet your peace didn’t last long as a terrible cough rattled through you. You didn’t need to see the look on everyone’s faces inside of the room to know that it sounded disgusting. You’d expected things to get better over the days, but instead it seemed to have become worse. 

Your throat was so raw it almost felt as if it was bleeding on the inside. Every time you breathed you could feel your lungs expand inside of your chest, as if in protest. Your head felt too big to fit on your neck, but somehow it hadn’t fallen off yet. You were surprised you had been able to make it through the week. And even though you knew it would have been wise to go see a doctor but you just simply didn’t have the time. Perhaps it was an idea to make work of that, now that you’d have a few days off. “Are you sure you’re okay? You look a bit pale.” Amber said, concern coloring her voice as she sat down beside you. Looking up at her your smiled reassuringly, not wanting to ruin her perfect night. They all deserve to be happy, and your cold was your own problem to worry about. “I’ll be fine, just a bit tired.” You said, reaching for your cardigan which you had gotten rid of right before starting your performance. You were always chilly these days, so you took a cardigan with you everywhere you went. Even now, after you’d been sweating throughout your performance, you felt the chill settle on top of your skin. 

“You’re not planning on driving home like this are you? You should just come with us.” Amber suggested, eying you suspiciously while you were wrestling to get your arm into your sleeve. You definitely understood her concern, but it wasn’t something you hadn’t thought about before. Hugging your jacket close to you, you shot her a little smile. “Jungkook is picking me up.” You explained, remembering the way your boyfriend had practically begged to pick you up from work. He surely was just as worried as your friends, and just like them he wasn’t easily soothed. This seemed to relief some of them, knowing you weren’t going home by yourself and there was someone near to take care of you, just in case. “I don’t understand how on earth you can wear that cardigan, it’s so hot in here I’m melting.” Jessica said, and you shot her a look. She was trying to be dramatic, but you weren’t going to let her get to you. You no longer had the energy to listen to her pointing things out to you. “I’m cold, you know I always am.” You reminded her, which was the truth. You were always cold, even in the hot weather during summer. You were just one of those people who never warmed up. Jungkook aways had to be prepared to lend you his jacket and you always had to take scarves and coats everywhere, just to be sure. 

Before you knew what was going on Elena had sneaked up from behind you, and her hand was resting on your forehead. You jumped back from her touch, which seemed to be even colder than the temperature inside of the room. “Jesus __________, you’re burning up. You’ve got a fever.” She scolded, and you quickly lifted your hand to your own forehand to check that statement. Yet, you didn’t seem to feel the same she did. Yes you were hot, but you’d just been running across a stage for almost two hours. It wasn’t strange that you were sweating or that you were feeling warm. “You’re overreacting, I’m fine.” You repeated, getting kind of annoyed by their overprotectiveness. You’d be fine after a good night of sleep. You just needed some rest, afterwards you’d be just fine. As soon as you got home you’d take a nice shower and then you’d get to bed and curl underneath the sheets. You’d feel much better when you’d wake up tomorrow and you knew you didn’t have any workouts waiting for you. You’d just enjoy your free day at home, cuddle with your boyfriend if you felt better. The last thing you wanted was to infect him. 

“I think you should let someone check up on you, just to be sure.” Amanda continued and you ignored her as your eyes darted around the room to look for something to drink. The more you tried to explain to them that you didn’t need anything the more they would baby you. You’d always been the one to look out for, as the youngest of the group. Finding a bunch of water bottles piled together you pushed yourself up from the sofa, feeling your muscles protest heavily. You reached the water just in time, feeling another cough overtake you. It definitely didn’t sound like an innocent cold, yet that didn’t mean others were supposed to make such a fuss about it. “I’ll go to the doctor tomorrow, I’m tired, I just want to go home.” You pressed on, hoping they would finally let it go. The euphoric atmosphere that had been present in the room because of your great performance seemed to have disappeared over the past ten minutes. Now there seemed to be a loaded tension inside of the room, like a bomb waiting to explode. They all had an opinion, it was resting on the tip of their tongs. They simply weren’t saying it out loud.  You really needed Jungkook here, perhaps he would choose your side. 

Twisting the water bottle you took a few big gulps, hoping the water would sooth your sore throat. Instead the fluid seemed to drop inside of your stomach like a rock. A nauseous feeling washed over you, almost knocking you over. You could feel the last bit of adrenaline leave your body after the performance and it was as if your body had simply decided to shut down in the process. Looking for some support you reached towards the wall, leaning against it. You couldn’t remember it being this hot inside of the room. Somehow you desired to rip every piece of fabric off of you. In the blink of an eye you had gone from freezing to burning up inside. It was as if a fire had started inside of you. Catching your breath made you feel as if you were running a marathon. Every gulp seemed to be coming too slow, no matter how hard you tried. It was as if your lungs had collapsed and with the little you knew about anatomy, even you knew that was’t good. Your body needed oxygen in order to survive, and as to right now you could tell you weren’t getting enough. Black spots danced in front of your eyes while your legs seemed to give in, pulling you towards the ground. 

When you finally woke up you felt as if you had been asleep for weeks. It was as if someone had hit you in the head with something big and heavy. Your head felt as if it were about to split in half. A bright ceiling met your view and you had to blink your eyes against the sterile look. Small beeps came from somewhere around you and you could feel the roughness of an uncomfortable blanket underneath your fingertips. Shifting your eyes felt like an explosion was happening inside of your head, but you pushed through until you were able to gaze around the room. You were able to hold back your displeased groan just in time when you noticed something moving beside you. Startled you turning your head in the direction the sound came from and noticed a woman in white clothing fidgeting with the pole standing behind your bed. Several bags with fluids which had names you could impossible understand hung down from it, connected with small see through cables which ended in an infusion inside of your right hand. Perhaps you should be happy you hadn’t been awake when they’d punctured you to get that one in, since that might have been enough to make sure you would have collapsed. 

“Oh, how lovely. You’re awake. How are you feeling darling?” The woman smiled down on you, her eyes friendly and caring. Yet her hands didn’t pause for a single second, blindly changing one bag of fluid for the next. Noticing your stare she pointed at the recent one. “I’m just giving you your antibiotics. The doctor will be with you soon. Why don’t you rest some more dear.” She patted your arm before exciting the room, probably off to the next patient in the room next to yours. The thought that you were in a building surrounded by people going through rough times made you shiver. Taking in your surroundings your mind spun back towards what she’d been saying. Why were they giving you antibiotics? Guild crackled inside of you, wondering if you’d pushed yourself too far, if you’d only worried the people around you even more while you’d been trying to act like everything was fine. Surely you had been more miserable than you had pretended to be, yet you’d never expected to end up in a hospital for it. Sighing deeply your eyes rested on the bump you’d missed on the other side of the room. 

Right there, popped up on a small wooden chair, was your boyfriend. Eyes firmly closed, the back of his head pressed against the wall while his arms crossed over his chest, he looked as if he was having the most uncomfortable time sleeping ever. Yet, he’d managed it anyway. Staring at him you could tell that he’d been in a rush getting here from wherever he had been. He was still in his sweats, a casual black t-shirt and vest clinging his body. He looked as if he’d rushed straight out of practice to get to you. You sighed, thinking about how stupid you were. All of this could have been prevented if you’d just allowed the people around you to take care of you. But you’d been stubborn and you’d denied the fact that anything was wrong to begin with. You resisted the urge you felt to cough when you felt a tickle inside of the back of your throat. Yet, you could only fight it for so long before your lungs begged to let out the air you’d been holding. Bringing your hand in front of your mouth you coughed just as badly as you’d done before you’d blanked out earlier. When you were done you once again felt exhausted. It was as if your body was putting all its energy in trying to get rid of all the bad things inside of you. 

“You should have told me you were this sick.” You flinched, and stared and Jungkook only to find him staring back at you, his position unchanged. His voice sounded like the one of a teacher scolding his student for not completing their homework. His eyes were drilling into you as he looked at you, until you felt like you had no choice but to look away. You knew exactly how he felt. It was the same way you always felt when he pushed himself too far, when he did more than his body was able to take. You felt terrible, knowing you’d made him feel the same way. “I didn’t know…” You croaked right before your voice left you, your words barely more than a whisper. Without saying anything he pushed himself up from his tiny chair, moving slowly, as if he had been sitting there for a very long time. Carefully he poured you a glass of water on the nightstand before sitting down on the edge of the bed. Clumsily you drank a few sips of the water, which helped little to soothed your throat but at least made you feel a bit better. The silence weighed down on the two of you as Jungkook slowly put the glass back on the nightstand. 

“You have a pneumonia. You had a serious fever. It will take quite some time and antibiotics before you’ll be back on track.” He explained after a while, and the news caused your heart to weigh heavy inside of your chest. All that hard work, for nothing. “But, the Golden disk awards…” You started, but instantly stilled when you spotted Jungkook’s cold stare. It had been a while since you’d seen him this angry, since you’d seen him this out of line. Yet, he seemed to try his best not to snap at you when he spoke. “I don’t give a damn about that stupid show, and neither should you. This is serious ____________. You’re sick, really sick. You could have died from this.” Worry glistered inside of his eyes as he brushed his hand through his hair, tugging at the strands. Instantly your thoughts about the concert disappeared as you looked at him. You felt terrible for worrying him. Reaching out your hand you used it to hold onto his, making sure not to pull at the cable running down on your right arm. 

“I’m sorry.” You muttered softly, waiting until he looked at you to squeeze his fingers inside of yours. He sighed, but nodded anyway before returning the pressure of your hand. Smiling softly at him you waited until the corners of his lips tugged upwards ever so slightly before patting the spot next to you. Realizing laying beside you was probably a much more comfortable position than he’d had on his wooden chair he carefully spread out beside you, his head propped up on his hand. “You shouldn’t scare me like that. Now it seems like I’m going to have to take care of you for the next few weeks.” He muttered, grabbing your free hand and bringing it towards his lips to peck it. Indeed, the fact that you would miss the concerts which still had to come sucked, just like that fact that you’d ruined everything that was perfect about your comeback. But at least you’d have more time to spend with your boyfriend these upcoming weeks, and what could be any better than that? 

∙ BTS Masterlist ♡               ∙ Masterlist ♡