#and also I've never been to this doctor and i don't know how the whole thing will go and how the rooms and everything look like
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It's so ridiculous being transgender as an adult. You'll have spent your entire life being conditioned (even by your own self) to believe that so many things just aren't options for you. You deeply internalize the "knowledge" that it would be impossible to be who you want to be and have the body you want to have.
So then you might find yourself in situations where you sheepishly ask a doctor who specializes in trans healthcare if you can have the minimal of help, just enough to keep surviving, because you know that if you asked for what you want, that the answer would be "no" (it has always been "no"). And then are surprised by your own excitement when the very thing you secretly wanted is offered to you with full sincerity as a very real option and with absolute intent to follow it through with you.
As though the whole time you were keeping it as this buried secret, this personal ache of want. But you never actually allowed yourself to consider it anything more than a dream. So when it becomes real and you can finally conceptualize it as a real choice, only then are you able to feel just how badly you wanted it the whole time.
Does that make sense?? It couldn't be real and even though you're desperate for it because you're not sure you can survive without it for much longer, you still don't allow yourself to consider how deeply you WANT it. You never know just how excited you'd be about it. You expected for so long to have to settle for less and never considered that you'd have the choice.
#I know I'm very lucky to have a good doctor#but I can't be the only one with these kinds of feelings#I keep reining myself in because I keep being so sure that I'll never get to do the things that I really need#and once I force myself to try for the sake of survival#only then do I get hit with the excitement of actually getting to do it#I don't know.#but I have a surgery consult to talk about permanent contraception#and did not realize how badly I'd want a hysterectomy until I realized it was actually on the table as an option#I also have a my name change hearing TOMORROW#and I've been on T for 2 years now#I've done a whole in these last two years that I was always so sure would be impossible for me#transgender#trans#transmasc#ftm#trans man#my posts
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God i could have such a chill evening if it wasn't for that doctor's appointment tomorrow morning looming over me
#this wouldn't be so stressful if i didn't have to take a train to get there#the ride is only 4 minutes but i have to walk to the dr's office for 1.8 km which is about 24 minutes#but i haven't really been to this town before and don't know the way so i have to use maps to get there#and the appointment is at 8:30am and the train i would Like to take is scheduled for 7:54 am which would be fine#if the fucking bahn worked and was punctual for once but there's no punctual trains in this godforsaken country#so my anxiety tells me that this train will arrive 8:15 am at the earliest instead of at 7:58am#so i would be late and i can't be late i would just kill myself#but if i want to play it safe i have to take the train 30 minutes earlier which would mean I'd have one hour#to walk there and I'm Really not in the mood of just spending 30 minutes waiting outside like a weirdo because i have too much time left#so my options are either take the risk and be relatively punctual rather than having 35 minutes left to spare#or just waste an hour of my life because I'm too afraid to potentially be late#also the fact i have to wait for a train back home again and cannot plan this at all because idk how long I'll be in the office#is so annoying#and also I've never been to this doctor and i don't know how the whole thing will go and how the rooms and everything look like#and it's stressing me out#also that i have to plan at least 2 hours for an appointment that probably won't take longer than 5 minutes#because of the fucking trains#anyway#i should go to sleep now#40 hours without sleep and not more than 4 hours on average the days before have left me broken lmao#i gotta practice my lines though. i cannot go in without a rehearsed script. gotta be careful around doctors and choose your words wisely#otherwise they won't take you seriously or think you're overdramatic and dismiss any concern as 'anxiety'#yeah no i don't trust them- i hate relying on them- let me be free ahhh#void screams
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This is maybe the funniest (worst) radfem post I've come across in a while. It was a comment about cis women getting hysterectomies.
Do y'all know how many feminists have been fighting to be allowed to get hysterectomies without a) birthing (often multiple) children or b) a husband's permission? Including many people who have extremely painful and/or dangerous uterus-related conditions, like PCOS or menorrhagia? So many doctors HATE giving hysterectomies specifically because "you really should have kids first".
Also, cis men don't need to "remove their ballsack" to avoid having kids. They get vasectomies. An incredibly simple, routine procedure.
People who are getting hysterectomies are often doing so for reasons not solely related to pregnancy - if it were just about fertility, getting your tubes tied would suffice if you were averse to other forms of birth control. My mum did that after my sister was born, and then went back in for a hysterectomy a few years later because her periods were agonising. My aunty also had a hysto several years back, because not only were her periods agonising, but they would cause flare ups in some of her other conditions.
I just... how are you calling yourself a feminist while advocating for LESS bodily autonomy for women? How can you act like women are being stupid or reckless in their choice to get a hysto and not see the indescribable misogyny you're utilising?
"It's never [cis] men who remove an organ just because they don't want it" yeah, I wonder if that's because they don't have an organ that causes agonising blood loss on a monthly basis? Like... nobody's out here getting kidneys removed for fun. It's a very specific organ only being removed for very specific, personal reasons.
It's my body, not yours. Hands the fuck off.
*This post is authored by a trans person. If you're agreeing with me about this topic while being against trans healthcare, consider that your whole ideology is built in opposition to bodily autonomy for people outside your ideals of gender. Sit with that information.*
#feminism#healthcare#gender#this post really pissed me off#you're ridiculing cis women for getting hysterectomies now? your suffragettes would be horrified.#the system speaks
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the other man
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: READ PART ONE HERE, also not completely proofread because i've been so tired and bloated these days i have no energy :( feel free to message me about mistakes!
𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: after finding out you were used by your brother to get rid of someone he simply didn't like, you go on a break. every time you see that place or the man, you get reminded of another one who hugged your legs while on his knees, before he was dragged to his downfall. just why can't you escape it, no matter how hard you try? 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: song mingi x f!reader, ft yunho 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 8.5k 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: prison theme, criminal!mingi, prisoner!mingi, doctor!reader, evilbrother!yunho 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: semi public oral (f!receiving)
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: gore, v*olence, swearing, stalking, m*rder
𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢��𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.
"no! no, god, no! please!"
"get off me."
"please, please! yunho, please!"
"get" smack "the fuck" smack "off me!" smack.
you fall on the floor, knees hurting from being dragged across the floor all the way to his office, and cheeks red from all the hitting. you don't let go of his shirt yet, the fabric securely scrunched between your fingers.
"i'll do anything," you wipe your tears with your elbow, "anything!"
"anything?" he raises an eyebrow, lowering his hand that was about to land on you one more time.
a glint of hope appears in your eyes, and you straighten your posture. still on your knees, you put your palms together, ready to beg more. "yes, anything."
yunho is silent for a few moment, looking at you with an unreadable expression. and it kills you, that he can mask emotions so well. he crouches, getting down to your level. he cups your jaw in his big hand, and you suddenly feel shivers running down your spine.
"come with me."
his gentle touch turns into a painful one, his hand moving from your face to your hair in a split second. he drags you across the hallway, into the elevator, and throws you against the mirror wall. you barely have time to reach for the little pole to hold onto, he grabs you by your shoulders and lifts you so that you stand up.
"listen to me."
"please-"
"listen to me!" he grabs your face again, fingers digging into your cheeks and making your lips purse. "you act like a whore, you'll get treated like one. hell, i'll let everyone have their way with you, if that's what you want. but do not interfere with my work. never, ever again."
"but i-"
"have i made myself fucking clear?!"
"yes, yes!"
he finally loosens his grip, making your body slide down the wall and find peace on the floor. he punches the floor number, then leans on the elevator door. you look up at him, disgust and resentment painting your face. you hope the doors open and he falls head first on something sharp.
"don't look at me like that. this isn't my fault."
if only you could say something back, but fear has swallowed you whole. so you stay there, resorting in only sending him glares.
"frankly, it's not mingi's fault either."
"don't say his name, you don't get to-"
"it's your fault."
"it's not."
"oh, but it is. see, i warned you, little sissy. but you just don't know how to listen."
the doors open, luckily for him. you stand up, following him down a poorly lit hallway. you pass multiple metal doors, with a small window on top of each. until you stop by one right at the end. you gasp, then scream, along with the person inside. it echoes through the hallway, bouncing off the walls and torturing you.
"no, no!" you scream, trying to turn around. but yunho holds you still in front of the window, making you watch as mingi gets sat on a chair you thought you'd never see in real life. "god, please, please!"
"i said i'd make you watch."
"mr jeong!"
"watch."
"mr jeong!"
the voice gets closer, and mingi has more belts holding him with each second that passes. one of the guards stands aside, waiting for the final belt to be secured across his chest, before putting a metal electrode cap on his head.
"mr jeong!"
"what, what, what?!" he yells, letting go of you and turning towards the young guard running towards him. "do you wish to fucking join him?! how dare you interrupt-"
"inspection, mr jeong."
yunho takes a step back, breath halting for a moment. your fingers hopelessly scratch at the tiny window, eyes burning with tears as you watch the strapped man stop struggling and accept his fate. he doesn't look at you, but you know he hears you. he grimaces at your wails, avoids your gaze, and silently cries.
"fuck! go back to your position, tell barnes to start protocol b."
"what about protocol a?"
"are they in the building already?"
"yes...?"
"then, it's too late for that. protocol b starts now. block the doors as soon as the execution is done, and get rid of the evidence through the gate f." yunho then grabs you by your elbow, throwing you into the guard. "take her to elijah, let him escort her to my house. no witnesses."
the young guard nods, then guides you away from the doors. yunho opens the door, for a split second letting mingi's pained moans and wails escape the room of torture. it shatters your heart, weakens your knees, and makes you want to vomit right there. the ground sways under your feet as you try to reach the exit, the sign section Z being the last thing you see before collapsing.
when you open your eyes again, it feels like your lungs are on fire. you have been crying in your sleep, dried lines on your cheeks being proof of that. you remember waking up for a few seconds, elijah making you drink a sip of water before helping you into your bed again.
now, it is almost four in the afternoon, and you feel as if you dreamt the whole thing. but when you see elijah's note on the nightstand, you are reminded of the grey reality. the note states that yunho has ordered you lunch, and that it is in the fridge. barefoot, still in yesterday's clothes, you walk downstairs to the kitchen. you open the fridge, finding a plate of steak with grilled asparagus and mashed potatoes, along with a little bottle of orange juice. how kind of him to order you his favorite meal.
you scrunch the paper in your hand, anger making your vision red. you take the plate out, then set it on the kitchen counter. as you cut into it, you realize it is rare, blood dripping from it and soaking the mashed potatoes. it is like irony, red staining the yellow just like mingi's blood stained your dress in the cafeteria. is it some sort of a cruel joke coming from yunho? did he want you to feel sick and not eat? you slam the knife into the steak multiple times, ruining it and sending red drops of liquid everywhere. you slam your fist into the mashed potatoes, then take the asparagus and throw them at the white wall. the juice bottle shares the same fate, the knife piercing through it and letting the yellow juice drip on the marble tiles.
before you know it, the kitchen is coated in the sticky liquid, walls are poked with whatever your hand could grab, and the living room became the new victim. the recently bought leather couches were ripped open, cozy cushions no longer cozy, but only balls of cotton and feathers, and the glass coffee table was only a skeleton now, the glass shattered and digging into the rug.
you sit in the middle of it, pieces of collectible vases, statues and painting surrounding you. the sight is an invitation for yunho to strangle you right then and there. but you don't give him a chance. you gather clothes into your backpack, hygienic things and his spare wallet, then take his most favorite car out of five of them. you don't leave before keying the other four, despite the weird glances your neighbors throw you. you only smile at them, then nod your head as a greeting. they must think you are crazy. you can't wait until they tell yunho on you.
you have found peace in a cozy little hotel in a town nearby. you don't use his cards, in case he tries to track them down. he has enough cash to keep you there for at least a year. besides, you're already looking for a new job. working in a coffee shop seems promising. the fact that you know nothing but an espresso and hot chocolate doesn't seem to bother the manager. your eagerness to learn is enough for her to consider you a candidate.
if yunho has tried reaching out to you, you don't know. you got rid of your old phone, immediately upgrading to the newest one, with a fresh number. you didn't try finding out about him either. you don't care. you only hope elijah didn't get punished for your actions. after all, he only brought you home.
the hotel room is a bit cozier now that you've added your little decorations. from fake vines and fairy lights you bought from the dollar store, to expensive books and posters you got from the bookstore down the street. it is only temporary, until you decide exactly what you wish to do with your life. you've lived in yunho's shadow, having him decide for you and write out your future without asking you. and you never questioned it, really. did you dislike it at times? yes, you did. did you dare say anything? no, hell no. now that you have freedom, you are lost. yunho was always the one guiding you, and now you were alone.
"you're hired!" you hear the very next day, as you sit drenched in nervous sweat.
you breathe out, relief washing over your body. finally, a start. the first paycheck has you almost crying. people really live like this? the second one isn't a complete shock like the first one, but it could be better. by the third one, you have already accepted that you cannot live lavishly anymore. so you stop visiting the bookstore, stop buying pastries after your shift, and start cooking yourself. you didn't know it would be this hard. but it is too late to back down now. there is no way you're going back to yunho, not if you want to live.
"hey, can you help me out? it's like everyone made a decision to sit in my section today!"
your coworker is drowning in tickets, loose strands of hair falling out of her once perfect bun, and her apron is already smudged. you nod, hurriedly running over to the tables that have just sat down, again, in her section. your section is quiet, mainly because the sun is hitting it and it is way too hot to sit there.
three tables are done, and you have only one left. the man sits alone, typing something on his laptop. hopefully he didn't notice how long he had to wait. you finally approach it, eyes not leaving your notepad. "i am so sorry for the wait, we didn't expect the rush so early."
"no worries, i understand."
time stops around you, only the two of you stuck in a bubble. your fingers hold the notepad, losing colour in the tips from how hard you're gripping it. you gulp, audibly, before lowering the pad and locking eyes with brown ones. you almost run, seeing the bone chilling smile on his face.
"yunho." you gasp, fear swallowing you whole.
"iced americano, please."
you clear you throat, and finally write it down. "right. anything else?"
"no, that would be all." he goes back to typing on his laptop.
you are scared to pass by him, but remember that you are in a crowded space. he wouldn't do anything here, would he?
"oh, right."
"y-yes?" you turn around.
"a pistachio doughnut to go."
"right away."
shakily, you prepare the order. even the manager gives you a side eye, not used to that behaviour. but she doesn't say anything, assuming that you are just tired since it's almost the end of your morning shift.
"hey, could you please give this to table-"
"oh my god, i'm so sorry, but i can't. i have like four tables waiting for me, and i still haven't brought out that cookie for table six."
worth a try. you approach the table in the corner, trying to sneak a glance at the laptop screen. but yunho slams it just in time, depriving you of nosiness. you set the cup on the table, along with the paper bag with the doughnut in it.
"thank you." he says, handing you a big bill. "keep the change."
"uh, this is too much-"
"it's fine. you look like you need it."
with that, he sends you another smile and stands up, and if you didn't know him, you'd think it's genuine. but you know it's dripping with venom, and if you were alone with him somewhere, he would snatch you in a split second and have you in that very chair you keep having nightmares about.
"have a good day, miss...?"
"edwards."
"right, miss edwards."
you watch in terror as he exits the shop, not sparing you another glance. fifteen minutes ago, you just couldn't wait for the end of your shift. now? you're dreading it. up until the moment you hang the apron in your locker and gather your things, your hands don't stop shaking. not even when you exit the shop, head frantically turning in search of two brown eyes. walking to the hotel, you have time to think. he hasn't changed much, except a healed scar line near his eye. you wonder what happened. you wonder if the inspection managed to find anything. you hope they did. in revenge for mingi.
"good day, miss edwards." the receptionist greets, a smile always on her face.
"good day, rita."
"ah, that visitor of yours is so cute. is he single?"
you turn abruptly, head almost turning like an owl. "what visitor?"
"oh, the cute one! brown hair, brown eyes, very tall? he was so nice to me, even gave me a tip."
your legs have never been faster, bringing you into your room in under a minute. you barge in, like you were expecting to find your partner with a lover. you drop your work bag on the floor, approaching the unmade bed that you distinctly remember making. there is muddy footsteps all over the floor, and a familiar paper bag on the nightstand. you leave the door open, just in case, before approaching the bed. you take the paper bag in your shaky hands, eyes skimming over the written note on it.
for miss edwards, from her dear brother. miss you. x
the door slams shut, and you jump. the bag drops on the floor, and you squeal, turning around. but nobody is in the room. once you make sure you really are alone, you open the bag. you find the very doughnut you packed. you plop on the bed, scanning the food. it does look like originally packed one, so you bite into it, thinking about your next move. you can't stay here, now that he knows where you are. just how did he find you, anyway?
you take another bite, but this time your teeth stumble upon something hard. you let go after struggling, realizing it is not bits of pistachios, but something more dense. your eyes drop on the pastry, and when you can't decipher what it is, you pull it out, only to throw it on the floor with a scream. it is a chopped off finger, the small fix on tattoo on it very familiar to you. you gasp, hand flying to your mouth to stop a sob from escaping. how cruel, sick and twisted does someone's brain have to be to think of and pull something like this?
not even a week after the incident, you receive a call from your work that a costumer keeps leaving tips for you even when you're not here. the description fits yunho, but you haven't seen him at all. he knows that his name alone is enough to terrify you. this is worse than what you initially thought he'd do if he found you. it is slow torture, and you can't escape it.
you ask for a break, knowing damn well that you are safer there than you are in the hotel. but you keep messing up people's orders, spilling their drinks, and there's always missing cash from the register. your manager almost squealed with joy when you asked her for a few days off. you use the time to start thinking about alternatives. do you move towns again? do you go back to him? do you call police?
all three seem stupid and useless. for now, you'll focus on eating healthy and having some self care days. one thing is clear, if jeong yunho has made it his goal to harm you, he will do it; one way or another. he might be delaying it, toying with the prey before killing it.
you don't go back to work for another week, desperately searching for a way out. but you are bombed with random flowers, presents, and similar things waiting for you when you come back from your daily run. it has become a habit, for you to enter the room and immediately toss the unwanted gift into the hallway. you keep the severed finger in a tissue on the nightstand, each night patting it sleepily and saying good night in your head. crazy, but it is the only part of him you have left. and it makes you feel a little more at ease now that you know he is resting, not in pain. and at least you get to have proper sleep, since yunho never seems to disturb you during the night.
but universe loves to prove you wrong, because you get awoken by the door opening. you sit up straight, still halfway asleep. the person in your room halts, flowers secure in their hand and a hood over their head. you barely have time to react, because the person is quick to put a hand over your mouth. you don't see the face, from the dark and the hood, but you recognize that touch and smell anywhere.
"hush, doctor."
tears roll down your cheeks, horror and relief fighting for dominance in your body. you feel four fingers over your lips, the pinky missing. the very pinky you have in the tissue, now drained of colour.
"it's just me," he whispers, taking the hood off with his free hand. he still holds the flowers, not letting go yet.
you are overwhelmed by emotions. from relief, to fear, to sadness. you jump into his arms, without thinking. but there isn't much to think about. you only need to look into his eyes, to know that you are safe.
"mingi," you finally exhale, head buried into his neck.
"my doctor," he coos, hand rubbing your back as you cry into his hoodie, "my pretty little doctor."
now, you are confused. if mingi is holding the flowers, does it mean he was the one entering the room and leaving you presents? what about the doughnut and the finger? did they run into each other? do they work together now? what if there is a bigger story behind all of this?
"i can hear you thinking, doll."
"i'm sorry, i just-" you sob mid sentence, "i just don't know-" hiccup, "what's going on?"
"come on, lay down with me."
mingi sets the flowers right next to the scrunched tissue, then lays down and opens his arms for you. hesitantly, you lay on his chest, allowing him to wrap his warm arms around your shivering body.
"it is too much for you to handle, i know. you saw me on my death chair, and now i'm here. how about we go to sleep, and i'll tell you all in the morning?"
"no, i can't."
mingi nods, understandingly. "then, i better get to explaining.
when you fainted, yunho was called over, and it was too late for the execution. apparently, they never do it without him. sick bastard likes to watch. so, once again, i was saved by you, unknowingly."
you scoff through tears, hitting his chest gently. "right."
"i managed to fight them off and escape, and yunho had no time to deal with me because he had the inspection at his throat. he found me a little later, tried to kill me, but i managed to flee again. i cut him pretty bad, don't know if you've noticed. i was pretty proud of myself for that."
"near the eye?"
"bingo. glad to know that he has a reminder of me on his stupid face now. just like i have one." he looks down on his injured hand.
"were you the one leaving the presents for me all this time?"
"all this time? how long are we talking?"
"weeks."
mingi stills underneath you. so it isn't him. you let out a shaky breath, trying to stay sane.
"yunho found me."
"oh."
"he gave me your finger."
"he what?!" he sits up straight, visibly distraught. "he fucking what?!"
silently, you reach for the tissue, handing it to him. he takes one glance at it, then at his hand. his expression is unreadable, something between hatred and disappointment. you've never seen him like that.
"he has been terrorizing me since he found me, leaving me creepy presents and stalking me. i don't know what to do."
the man sighs, also thinking. "we could run away."
"where?"
"anywhere. just you and i. to start fresh."
"but you're an escaped convict."
you regret saying that, seeing a hurtful expression on his face. "i was wrongfully imprisoned."
are you finally getting his story from a first hand source? is this the right time to be excited about it? "why? didn't you kill your sister's boyfriend?"
"he deserved it. he was hitting and raping her."
"you aren't the one to decide who gets to live or die."
"and your brother is?"
you move away from him, jaw dropped. "he is not my brother, and you know that."
"you know what? you're the same as him. only using people when you see benefit in them." he spits, getting up from the bed and taking the flowers back.
"how dare you?!"
"watch your tone." his voice is no longer warm and cozy, but cold and stern. he looks at you with ice cold eyes, his posture different. "do not yell at me again, i am warning you now."
"what the hell is wrong with you? it's like you're an entirely different man-"
"i am. i am a free man. away from wrongful convictions, away from the abuse. i am a different, better man."
he steps closer to you, causing you to step back. your back hits the door, hand desperately searching for the door knob. he stops in front of you, mere inches away.
"but you don't want that, do you? you want the vulnerable mingi, the mingi that kneels in front of you and begs for your affection. guess what? things are different now."
this is what yunho was warning you about. and you see it just now. mingi is a criminal. a prisoner. an escaped one now. oh, how you would love for yunho to barge in and save you. but you fucked it up. you had it good, and you didn't even know it.
"that bastard deserved to get his head blown up, and i won't hesitate to do the same to the person that continues terrorizing you. you're mine, you said so yourself."
"i- i thought that was only-"
"what? dirty talk? no, no, my sweet little doctor. you are mine, and mine only." he takes your jaw into his hand, thumb caressing your tear stained cheek. "nobody can have you. nobody but me."
his other hand reaches behind your back, finding the doorknob for you. but instead of opening it, he locks it, then puts the hand on your waist.
"mine." he growls, before pressing his lips against yours.
it doesn't feel right. he is rough, not loving and warm at all. but you go with it, not having any other option available. he doesn't fight you on it, seeing that you aren't as enthusiastic as him. he pulls away, finger still cupping your face.
"come, you need some sleep."
and you listen. you go back to bed, getting into his embrace once again. only this time, it isn't anything like the first time. you fall asleep, scared to death, knowing that you now have two men who are a great danger to you. lovely.
in the morning, you are awakened by kisses on your neck. you rub your eyes, adjusting to the lighting.
"morning, darling."
"morning," you mumble, stretching.
you look down at the man, expecting to find the same possessive and cold gaze from last night. but his eyes are back to soft, and his tone is caring. what in the world?
"sleep well? i hope i didn't kick in my sleep. i tend to do that, since i'm used to sleeping alone and had barnes as my roomie."
"uh, no..." you say, puzzled. does he not remember what happened last night? or does he choose to ignore it?
"i ordered us breakfast. hope you're in the mood for waffles."
"mingi-"
"here," he adjusts your pillow against the bed frame so you can sit up straight, "i'll bring it to you."
you think this is a joke. a trap. is this the calm before the storm? if yes, how do you escape it? seeing mingi set the wooden tray on your lap so carelessly, as if you didn't fall asleep last night startled to death, makes you wonder if you should give yunho a call. would he even take you after the stunt you pulled? you eye the waffles, topped with various berries and honey. a glass of cranberry juice sits in the corner, as inviting as ever. but you don't touch it. you're too busy calculating in your head, even mingi notices your hesitation.
"what? want me to feed you?" the man in front of you jokes, popping a blueberry in his mouth.
when he sees your further lack of reaction and only your focused face, his smile drops. you gulp, hoping that last night won't happen again.
"i get it, i'm acting too normal for the situation we are in. but that's sometimes my only way out; to act like everything is fine. but everything can be fine, if you would just come with me."
"where would we even go?" you dare ask.
"anywhere you want." he replies, reaching for the knife and making you jolt. if he notices, he doesn't react. instead, he plays with it while thinking of his next words. your eyes follow as the tip of his finger runs down the sharp edge, as if determining whether it's sharp enough to use it. "just name it."
"with what money?"
"we'll figure it out. from the looks of it, you aren't doing too bad. i'm guessing you treated yourself with yunho's possessions?"
"you think nobody will recognize you?" you push. "you think yunho hasn't already sent out your photos and-"
"what the fuck is wrong with you all of a sudden?!" mingi roars, flipping the tray of food over and spilling the cranberry juice all over the white sheets. you shriek, then cover your ears as your body drowns into the mattress and beneath the covers. "answer me, dammit!"
his hand grips your wrists, pulling your hands away from your ears so he can yell at you more. you can only close your eyes, in hopes of making him disappear just for a split second.
"i came here knowing the risks, i'm offering to protect you from your awful brother, and i want to love you!"
"mingi please-" you beg through sobs, hands desperately trying to find their place back on your ears.
"why won't you let me love you?!" he then grabs you by your shoulders, shaking you. "answer me!"
the door swings open, hitting the wall with force and shaking your recently decorated shelves. books fall on the ground, but jeong yunho couldn't care less. he steps over them, grabbing mingi and landing a punch on his face. mingi stumbles, but regains his stability and wastes no time in giving yunho a taste of his own medicine. their faces soon match the colour of the spilled juice on the sheets, both of them wiping red trails from their lips and noses.
"get away from her." yunho demands, not having to raise his voice in order to make himself look intimidating. his calm expression as blood runs down his chin and onto his white shirt is scary enough. "now."
"i'm not letting her go back with you. not in that shithole."
"and i'm not letting her go with you."
you sit still on the bed, not moving a muscle and afraid to breathe. both of them look at you at the same time, causing you to squeal and jump out of the bed, legs carrying you to the door. yunho grabs you before mingi can, and for the first time in a while, you feel safe in his hands. you waste no time in wrapping your arms around his waist, burying your soaked face into his ruined shirt.
"i think it's pretty clear where she wants to be." yunho spits, protectively putting a hand on the back of your head and using the other one to push you further against him. "leave now, and i will leave you alone. you won't hear from me ever again. from either of us."
"no. i don't trust you one bit. doll, come back to me." mingi calls, putting his hand out for you to take.
you only glance at him, still in yunho's embrace and eyes full of tears. you shake your head, causing his face to drop. he frowns, then straightens his posture. something snaps inside of him, you see it. and you are grateful to have someone here, otherwise who knows what might've happened. something similar to the previous night, only worse?
"very well. that might be the stupidest decision you've made in your life."
with that, he passes by you, hitting yunho's shoulder in the process and causing you to jolt. but yunho doesn't budge. instead, he waits for the other man to leave before finally pulling away from you. you are overwhelmed by the situation, sobs finally leaving your mouth loud and clear as you try to process what just happened within a day.
"look at me," yunho says, voice soothing. "you're okay. he can't hurt you anymore."
when you only respond with a new fit of sniffs and sobs, he sighs and pulls you into a hug again.
"it's my fault."
"huh?"
"back in the elevator. it's not your fault. it's mine for keeping him alive."
"don't say that."
"you can't possibly- after what he's done to you? you still protect him?" the dark haired man scoffs in disbelief.
"no, i just- i don't like hearing you speak that way. can i just- have a day of not hearing anything about dying or living?"
yunho nods understandingly. "what do you want to do now?"
"what do you mean?" you ask, busying yourself by collecting the ruined sheets and avoiding his gaze.
"do you wish to come back and continue living with me?"
you halt your movements, trying to figure out if he is genuine or not. your eyes find his, and you try to read them as best as you can. but yunho maintains his poker face, causing you to step back.
"no prison, no anything. you can find a different job, i'll help you." he offers, seeing you put your walls up again.
"really?" you ask, not yet convinced.
"really. it's the least i can do." he looks down on the floor, admiring his shoes. "after everything i did to you."
you truly hope he is genuine. if not, well, there's nothing much you can do about it.
"okay."
the house looks the same as before your little renovating process. same pillows, same coffee table, same wallpapers. you forget how filthy rich he is. in contrast, your room was left untouched. messy, just how you left it when packing hurriedly. yunho didn't ask for his wallet or car back. he let you keep it all, even brought you job applications from nearby coffee shops on his way back from work.
"would you like to open your own?" he asks one morning, casually eating his cereal.
"what?!" you shout, causing him to flinch. "sorry, i just- what?"
"your own coffee shop. do you want it?"
"i'm not sure i'm ready for that. it's a lot of responsibility. besides, you'd buy it for me just like that?"
"yes. why not?"
you think about it, comfortable silence enveloping the two of you. you hear light crunching coming from his side of the table, the spoon gently grazing the bowl and milk dripping into it. it is the calmest morning you've had with him, and you can't help but feel grateful. you watch as he eats, wearing a simple nike set and fuzzy slippers you bought him when you were still a teen. he looks so... normal. like he doesn't torture people for fun during his working hours. like he didn't aim a lamp at your head and serve you a human finger. like he is your normal brother and this is a perfectly normal setting.
"what's on your mind?" he interrupts your thinking. "mingi?"
"yeah," you admit. "it's so weird. he was so nice in the cell, and when he came to my room... he was nice, then mean, then nice again. i'm confused."
he finishes his cereal, then brings the bowl to his lips and slurps the remaining milk. you roll your eyes, seeing the liquid drip down his chin and onto the table.
"yunho-" you cringe, watching him wipe it with his sleeve.
"i'll clean it up." he waves his hand, then reaches for paper towels to wipe his creation. "you were saying?"
"right," you clear your throat, gaze dropping on your own empty plate. "it's just- his behaviour is weird. he is so nice and loving, and the next second he is yelling at me and grabbing me like that. i've read his file, doesn't say anything about it. i've looked after him in his cell for months, he never had a rage fit. he never showed a hint of anger, let alone tried to do something to me."
yunho sighs. you look at him, eyes squinted. there's something he isn't telling you.
"yunho?"
"he has a personality disorder."
"what? why isn't that written anywhere? why didn't doctor maslow tell me?"
"listen, we made a deal, didn't we? me telling you this is my own free will, and i will tell you as much as i want."
you remember the deal, the one you've made the day you came back to the house again. if you're not going to work at the prison anymore, you don't get to interfere or ask him about it. and you accepted, gladly. you don't want to be connected with that place in any way.
"he has a personality disorder, i didn't inform you for my own private reasons. but since you came along and decided to help him, he was different. no more rage fits, even barnes was getting irritated because he had no reason to beat him."
but he still did, you want to say. and yunho knows, because he chuckles at your disgusted face.
"at first, he didn't remember the incident at his house. he was completely numb when we managed to enter the house, and was very much confused during the interrogation. even we were lost, because he was genuinely trying to help us figure out what happened. and then, when he heard a guard making a comment about his sister, we all figured it out. mingi jumped on him, bit his ear off, and that explained to us what's going on."
"oh."
"and that also explains what happened at the cafeteria, and why he was talking about protecting you. he was reliving the same story, and he couldn't contain himself."
you sit in silence, memories flooding back in. the prisoner with his throat bitten off, yunho holding mingi down, your dress soaking up the blood from the floor, all while mingi looks at you and doesn't fight back, only makes sure that you are okay.
"that's..." you huff, overwhelmed with the information you just found out, "...quite messed up. all of it."
"i know."
"if you see him again, will you bring him back?"
"no." he simply says, and with that, takes the bowl to the sink and approaches you. he plants a kiss on your head, something he hasn't done in... ever. "don't you worry about those things anymore. open a coffee shop, find a cute nerd and get married already."
"already? i am only-" you hit his shoulder, and he ruffles your hair.
"yeah, yeah. i'm leaving! don't wait for me, i won't be back until late tonight."
"yunho?" you call, voice small.
"yes?" he doesn't turn around, busy discarding his fuzzy slippers and putting his sneakers on.
"am i supposed to forget the lamp and finger incident?"
he halts his moves for a second, but pretends to be unbothered. you manage to see a frown on his face, no matter how much he tries to hide it. "that's behind us."
"i'll forever remember it." you admit.
"okay."
and with a door slam, he leaves you alone in the house. okay. it's not okay. not one bit. that part of this whole situation is still not resolved, and it is bugging you. will he do it again? is that why he isn't acknowledging it? you sigh, then make your way to bed. you rot in there all day, doing nothing but eating sweets and drinking cans of soda, your favorite show rolling on the wall tv. as the sun goes down, your eyes grow tired and irritated, and no matter how hard you try to stay awake, your body gives up.
you wake up in the middle of the night, drenched in cold sweat. you keep dreaming of cells and mingi's screams, and it doesn't help that yunho isn't home most of the nights. everything is scarier when it's dark and yunho isn't here. especially tonight, when you reach for the bottle of water on your night stand and instead touch something soft. you turn your head, sleepily rubbing your eyes before taking a good look at the item.
a bouquet of tulips, with a note attached.
your heart stops, head frantically turning in search for a familiar figure hidden in the room. the window is wide open, a sign that you aren't or weren't alone. with shaky fingers, you reach for the note, using your phone light to read it.
𝒊 𝒂𝒎 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒕, 𝒅𝒐𝒄. 𝒈𝒐𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒔𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒅𝒖𝒍𝒆 𝒕𝒐𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒘? 𝒊'𝒍𝒍 𝒃𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝒍𝒊𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒓𝒚.
𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒍𝒚, 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒊.
you rip the note in tiny bits, then throw it in the trash and mask it with spare junk around the house. yunho can't see that. especially because you really plan on going.
fixing your favorite dress, taking your pepper spray just in case, and putting your newest sandals on, you make your way to the city library. you quietly walk among the shelves, like you once used to walk among the restricted sections. you pick a few books along the way, to look less suspicious. your heart pounds inside your chest, threatening to jump out. one part of you hopes he isn't here. you're not sure if you're ready for that encounter. the other part is getting disappointed with each section you pass, his figure not appearing yet.
you didn't quite think this through. frankly, you never do recently. how do you approach him? what do you say? what do you do?
you reach the end of the maze of shelves, letting out a disappointed, yet relieved huff. now what? the back of the note said ten in the morning, and it is now almost eleven. turning on your heel, your gaze remains on the random books you've picked.
"princess?"
you stop, head raising to find the source of the voice. song mingi stands in front of you, hands in his pockets and a hood over his head. words are lost in your throat, struggling to come together and leave your mouth. you step back, unsure of what to do. mingi steps towards you, and you continue like that, until your back hits the wall covered in shelves and massive history books.
"say something."
you fail to, only gulping and staring at him instead. his hands cup your face, thumbs caressing your cheeks as his eyes scan your features.
"please." he whispers.
"hi." you say, stupidly.
he chuckles, then presses his lips on yours. it doesn't feel wrong this time. it feels familiar, and sweeter than ever. he plants small kisses all over your face, from your cheeks, to your forehead, and then on your neck.
"mingi-" you stop him, dropping the books on the floor and putting your hands on his chest.
"i've missed you. please."
"you wanted to meet so you can fuck me?" you ask, disbelief evident on your face.
he pulls away immediately, but his hands stay on your face. "no, of course not. i wanted to talk to you, but now that i see you... i remember how much i miss you."
"this was a bad idea. i have to go."
you try pushing him away, but he grabs you by your waist and pushes you against the shelves. he drops down on his knees, hands sliding down your clothed hips and down to the bottom of your dress. you shiver as his cold hands touch your bare legs under the dress.
"mingi..." you say again, each time less convincingly.
"just... ten minutes. give me ten minutes."
his fingers find the outline of your panties, and you don't protest. remembering the last time his hands were all over you, you give yourself to him. his head disappears under your dress, hot breath caressing your clothed clit. he licks a strip over the panties, causing you to squirm. his grip on your legs hardens, spreading them in the process and making you stay still. your hand grips his hair as soon as he pulls your panties aside, hot tongue teasing the tip of your clit.
you shudder, body getting used to the foreign feeling of pleasure. mingi devours you like a starved man, sucking on your clit, licking up and down your folds, and teasing your entrance.
"you taste as sweet as you look." he pulls away just to say that, then wastes no time in picking your body off the floor and putting your legs over his shoulders.
you gasp, losing control of your body. "what if someone- ah! sees?"
"let them."
his fingers find comfort in your tight walls, scissoring and stretching you. the noises alone make you even wetter than you already are, mingi's hums combined with the slurping and squelching making you dizzy with pleasure. a knot forms at the bottom of your stomach, his fingers toying with your sensitive buttons and helping you reach the peak.
he doesn't silence you, instead, lets you moan his name as you grind your hips against him, riding out the last bits of orgasm. he licks up the remaining liquid, before putting your panties back in place and setting you down on the ground.
he finally takes his hood off, and all the pleasure and bliss you were feeling up until now disappear. his face is more wounded than ever, purple and red spots scattered on it.
"what the hell happened?!"
"yunho's men found me last night after i left your house. tried to kill me. again."
"oh my god," you put a hand over your mouth, not believing your ears. who do you even trust at this point?
"run away with me, doctor. please."
"i- i don't know." you avoid his gaze, looking at the long forgotten books on the floor.
"nobody will ever love you like i do. nobody knows you like i do. so please. make this easy for both of us and come with me."
you want to. you really do. but yunho-
"yunho is a bad man. i know he's your brother, but he is a monster. maybe you don't know, or maybe you do, but i wasn't the only one who had to endure that torture. countless of us, but only i found a way out. well, the way out found me. you found me."
you never thought about it. you only ever saw and heard of mingi, but who knows how many of them there were.
"how about this? i'll take you to my house, and while i finish some business, you can think about it. if you really don't want it, leave while i'm gone, and i'll never look for you again. however, if you do want it, there's spare clothes and a suitcase. you know what to do. that sound good?"
you nod, grateful that he is giving you time to think. he plants a kiss on your forehead, then takes your hand and leads you out of the library. you don't question where he got a car from, you like peace(lol). the house is almost an hour drive away from the library, and soon enough, you realize that it is the very same house you saw in the files back in prison. you walk the same path yunho has probably walked, only unarmed and with the person he came for.
the inside of it is mostly empty, besides a sofa in the living room and empty kitchen cabinets. there's multiple packets of cereal on the counter, and two or three unwashed bowls in the sink. is that what he has been eating since he got out?
he notices you staring at the place, a question mark almost visible above your head. "neighbors raided the house as soon as they moved out."
you hum, not sure what to say. he offers you a can of coke, which you politely take, but don't open yet. he sighs, seeing your hesitation.
"i'll be leaving now. feel free to explore, i have nothing to hide."
that was a lie, because as soon as you see him disappear down the street, you raid the house. everything seems normal, except a picture frame on the wall. you tilt it, noticing that it hangs weird. and indeed, you find something he is hiding. a hole in the wall, with a few weapons and bullets, stacks of money and jewelry. above it, a picture of you and your brother, with a knife stabbed into his face. you immediately figure out just what kind of business mingi has to finish.
yunho closes the door to your room, sighing. you texted him this morning, saying that you were meeting up with a friend. but you are not back yet, and his calls aren't reaching you. he has sent both barnes and elijah to look for you for almost an hour now, but all he has is we are close to her, sir.
he walks into his bathroom, ruffling his hair. his light blue silk sleepwear is suddenly uncomfortable, knowing that you are somewhere out there this late. he wishes you could only send him a message that you are fine. he wouldn't demand that you come back immediately, you are an adult. just to let him know that you are okay.
the man splashes his face with cold water, grief eating him inside out. every time he closes his eyes, he sees yours full of fear looking at him. as soon as you come back, he'll apologize. for everything. he will admit that he doesn't know why he did what he did. the power must've consumed him, he can't find any other reason.
he opens his eyes, looking at his drenched face and eyebags. he hasn't slept well in ages, but he is so close to it. little by little, he is working on making the prison what you wanted it to be; a place of rehabilitation, not torture and punishment. he sighs, reaching for the towel and burying his face into it. the scent of the fabric softener calms him, along with the soft texture of the towel. folding it neatly and setting it down, he glances at himself one more time. a hooded figure stares back at him, right behind him.
"FUCK!"
yunho jumps, hand grabbing the first thing he could. he shudders, for the first time ever in front of someone, when he sees the gun pointed at him in contrast to the electric toothbrush in his hand. he gulps, then glances at the open door. he runs into the dark room, hand reaching for the drawer where he keeps his weapon. but no matter how much yunho tugs, it stays shut. that bastard.
the other man catches yunho off guard, turning him around and hitting him with the weapon. yunho stumbles back, nose and teeth in incredible pain.
"fucking hell, i thought i killed you!" yunho says, spitting blood on the floor.
the hooded man in front of him only smiles, still holding the gun up. he tilts his head, somewhat creepily, sending yunho shivers up his spine. he takes a step back, realizing just how unsafe he is in his own home.
"third time's the charm, right? you failed the first two, even when you had the upper hand. now that we are even..." the hooded man tosses a spare gun on the floor, then kicks it yunho's way, "...let me see you. do your own damn dirty business."
"where is she?"
"safe from you."
"where the fuck is my sister?!"
"TAKE THE DAMN GUN AND FIGHT LIKE A MAN." mingi booms, having enough of the man in front of him.
yunho takes it, wasting no time in pointing the gun at mingi, finger hesitating to pull the trigger. mingi only laughs, not showing fear at all. yunho steps back, as if that's going to save him. he only hopes that you didn't willingly go with mingi. that no matter how bad it sounds, you went against your own will. he would be very disappointed if the first thing is true.
"pull the trigger, yunho."
something is not right.
"go on, that's what you wanted."
he is too calm.
"think about your little sister."
no, not you. he can't die and leave you behind.
"pull the damn trigger, jeong yunho!"
and yunho does, except, no bullet comes out. the weapon only clicks, and yunho barely has time to think of his next step when he hears a gunshot. he doesn't feel pain. he only feels weak, body threatening to fall. is this what it feels like to die? you don't feel anything? you just get dizzy and fall asleep?
"doc-" mingi gasps, and yunho finally looks at him. "what have you done?"
his eyes fall on your figure at the door. you hold a gun in your hand, shaking. mingi falls on the ground, and you run to yunho, handing him the weapon.
"i'm sorry, i'm so sorry," you sob, hiding behind your brother.
"it's okay," yunho says, shielding you from mingi.
he doesn't really have to, because mingi coughs on the ground, blood spilling from his mouth and down his chin. why, he repeats, eyes piercing yours. you want to help him, even though you brought him to that state. but yunho stops you, keeping your body behind him as he points the loaded gun at the wounded man.
he doesn't need to shoot again. mingi lets out a final cough, hand slipping from his wounded chest and on the floor. his head falls to the side, eyes still locked on you, lifeless. you sob, loud. you now have someone's blood on your hands. not just anyone's, but blood of the man who your promised to heal. instead, you killed him. but it was either him or yunho, and you didn't have much choice. keeping both alive was impossible, and you didn't want to lose yunho. not your only family. family that is finally starting to feel like one.
yunho drops the gun on the floor, turning to hug you. you wail into his chest, fingers gripping the silk and tears wetting it. he hushes you, hand rubbing your back as he shields you from the unpleasant sight.
"it's finally over. you're safe now."
taglist: *i tagged everyone who wanted a part two, if you want me to remove you, please dm me :)
@mingitheii @biancaness @dionysushyung @pearltinyy @jeon-ify @staytiny23 @vantediary @mingiswifeyyyy @aricebxmb @jadenance @seoft-for-seo @sunrins @mimisamisasa @nini4m @kyolovescats
#ateez#kpop smut#ateez imagines#ateez x reader#ateez x you#ateez x y/n#ateez smut#ateez imagine#song mingi#mingi x reader#mingi x you#mingi x y/n#song mingi x reader#song mingi x you#mingi oneshot#mingi imagine#mingi fanfic#mingi smut#mingi angst#yunho angst#yunho imagine#kpop oneshot#kpop imagine#ateez angst#ateez oneshot#kpop angst
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So I've been re-watching dr who for the first time ever rn, with a friend who's never seen it before, so I'm seeing all these episodes for the first time since I was 13 and picking up on a LOT that I never noticed before, and holy shit the tenth doctor is SO WEIRD to Martha Jones, and nothing exemplifies that more than the sontaran stratagem/the poison sky.... like..... he is SO weird the whole way down.
When they first see each other again their introduction directly mirrors Jack and The Doctor's in Utopia
"Doctor" "martha Jones" laugh and hug
"doctor" "captain Jack" laugh and hug
And then! they have a normal interaction!!! WIN he asks how her family is and how she is, and they're smiling and genuinely seem like friends very happy to see each other!
And then.... donna drops the fiance bomb.
He turns with a look of.... almost anger? disbelief? and asks WHAT MAN?? Then martha explains who he is and the doctor....
he looks? upset? and then like, resigned? AND THEN martha admits that her fiance is kind of similar to the doctor, and then donna asks "Is he skinny?" and his reactions
is to make a face like "yeahh" AND START NODDING????? like he's taken Martha's admission to mean she's with a man that's just like him, and honestly seems a bit smug over it, and then when Martha says no-
he looks so taken off guard and betrayed ??????????? BRO we are less than 5 minutes in..............
He then proceeds to be tetchy with her, and to be fair this is mostly because of her involvement with unit, and his discomfort with how militaristic she's gotten - which I think comes both from anger at himself for how he's changed her, and also discomfort that she's no longer "his" Martha, she's changed, and he doesn't know her as well anymore.
he tells her off, he's snide and judgmental, he won't even look at her until she tells him to, and he's honestly bitchy - Until she explains herself, and tells him off for being so judgmental, i also think his line "oh so it's my fault" is very telling because..... it literally is? like yes, you put her in situations where she had to become harder and more used to violence......... and he KNOWS it. He's doing what he did all through series 3, which is feel guilty or bad and then take it out on Martha (that's for another post though) until she stands up for herself (get his ass!!) and then when she's finished she looks at him
determined, but eyes darting back and forth waiting for his reaction, on some small level hoping for his approval
and only THEN does he start to smile, and he tells her "that sounds more like Martha Jones." she's back to feeling like she's still his (to him, Martha is acting incredibly normal and platonic). The doctor has always had a weird possessiveness with Martha, going all the way back to their first episode where he hand picked her, and in this second of her looking for his approval, he feels that again, and he IMMEDIATELY started flirting again - please go watch the scene it boggles my mind how fast he switches.
I also want to be clear, Martha isn't flirting back, she's acting extremely normally. She's clearly taken the time away from him to get over, not only romantic feelings, but any anger as well. She seems to have come to terms with how she feels with everything that happened, and she loves and cares about him, but she's not naive to his faults - I also don't think she even picks up on him being weird to her in this scene. She's no longer in tune with his every mood swing, she's not here to fix him, or cater to his needs, and so she no longer notices these small moments from him.
AND THEN.... the clone.
He never flirts with the clone. The ONLY time, is the very first time they interact, before he's realized something is wrong.
he calls her over to come with him, and his face is honestly way too close to hers. bro is a menace. but then, maybe 2 minutes later, he immediately clocks that this is not Martha.
he realizes there has to be a spy and only has to consider for half a second before he turns and asks about her family, he's already realized she's acting a little off, and the second she answers he's 100% certain.
and he gets MAD. he tells her Donna went home because she's not like her, she's not "a soldier" clearly a shot at the sontarans, but also another subtle test, the real Martha wouldn't let that slide, and he wouldn't say that to the real Martha. He continues saying Avanti, instead of Allonse-y, which is interesting, because he already knows. He's not doing this to confirm his suspicions, he's doing this as retaliation. To confirm to himself he knows Martha better than this fake, he's toying with her. BUT. He doesn't go to save Martha.
The next episode, the doctor's daughter, he refuses to accept the label of soldier, but Jenny rightfully points out that he strategizes like one And this is one such moment. He knows Martha is a clone, he's mad and upset, he could go save her right away, but he doesn't. He doesn't because it serves him best to allow her to keep shutting down the nuclear launch.
It reminds me a lot of when Cassandra possessed Rose in New Earth, he played a long for a little bit, but that was just to figure out what was happening. He IMMEDIATELY tried to fix it, I just wonder if it was any other companion if he would have done this. If it was Donna would he have left her for so long? even if it was strategic? it's this weird conflict the doctor has now that he's very very protective and a bit possessive, but he also treats her like an equal on the battlefield, and it's a weird... trust? he has in her to take care of herself.
I kind of don't want to call it trust because that sounds too positive, but I don't know another way to phrase it, but it's a forced independence and self sufficiency.
but then, he finally goes to save her
He goes and cradles her face gently, and NOTABLY says "good, still alive" MEANING HE DIDN'T KNOW??? and still left her for that long...
but he holds her gently, and fully ignores the clone. He has his back to her, and then proceeds to taunt her. He tells her he clocked her right away because of the pupil size, thin hair, and he says she smells. but we know this isn't true.
Sure maybe those physical traits are true, but that's not how he figured it out, we saw how he did it, he clocked on because he knows Martha so well, but he can't admit that. He can't admit that he knows her just as much as she knows him, just like he couldn't tell Rose he loved her.
He is so deeply angry at this clone, he makes fun of her, he yells at her, he looks at her likes she's nothing
This is his face when he kills her. He doesn't talk to her, or even TRY to save her. And we know she is alive, she has memories, and her own thoughts and feelings, and the doctor kills her while gloating because of his immense anger for hurting Martha. An anger that is also guilt.
he does not speak to her like a person (which directly leads into his treatment of Jenny in the next ep).
Parallel that to how Martha treats her, they talk about their family and she even calls the clone Martha. She really is a doctor in a way ten tried and often failed at.
And then at the end, Donna asks Martha to come with them, and she says no, and that she's happy at home, but she's better for having traveled and come back.
And the doctor looks at her
With an obvious sadness, but also acceptance. He clearly wants her here, with him, but I think he's finally come to accept that that'll never happen, and he needs to let her go.
Edit: I Like their dynamic(mostly) This is not an anti tenmartha post Him being a freak is compelling
#dr who#doctor who#david tennat#tenth doctor#Martha Jones#10th doctor#the sontaran stratagem#the poison sky#the doctor's daughter#sontarans#unit#donna noble#tenmartha#kind of#long post#it kind of got out of control#didn't realize I had so much to say#sorry#I may have lost my point also but like#I want to make it so clear that martha is acting completely normal here
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Bedside Manner
for @acasualcrossfade request for "the infection has spread"
"Some birdie told me that you have been causing a fuss, Wayne, is that true?"
Wayne huffs from his hospital bed, glasses sliding down his nose. He places the newspaper he was reading on the table beside him. "You tell that Robbie of yours to stop exaggerating. It was only a small request."
Steve raises his eyebrows at his favorite patient (Dustin tells him he isn't supposed to have favorites, but he also used to cry anytime he picked up Max before him when they were younger, so what does he know) and gives him a knowing look. "Robin listens to no man, Wayne, you know this. You're better off sending that message through her wife. Besides, small? She was telling me you refused to have any other nurse help you because I wasn't here last night. Which surprised me since you are always pushing me on about taking a vacation. "
Wayne opens his mouth, but Steve presses on. "And the fact Robin was even in the room means they called a psych consult, so I can only imagine how bad it was."
Wayne grumbles like a little kid being scolded for getting his hands caught in the cookie jar. "Yea, well, it was a bad night, kid."
Steve feels his shoulders sag, he takes off his glasses and rubs a hand down his face before placing them back on. "Sorry, Wayne, I had a bad migraine last night. Nance and Robs wouldn't even let me pass the entrance. Bad news?"
"Kid, don't stress yourself out over me. I'm just your patient, and more so, I am just a cranky old man." Wayne patted Steve's knee as he sat down next to him.
"C'mon, Wayne. You're more than that. I'd like to think seeing you in and out of here the last year has made us friends. Although I gotta say, you're the only friend I have that I'll be glad if I don't get to see again, given the circumstances. So, what's the news?"
"The infection has spread."
Steve takes in a deep breath, he tries not to panic, but any infection in a hospital can be deadly, especially for a cancer patient like Wayne. "Incision site?"
Steve must not be as good at hiding his emotions as he used to be because Wayne jumps to ease his worry. "No, kid, don't worry. The surgery was a success. Just got that hospital fever, the good old bronchitis. But it just means I'm here longer than I have to. It also means my nephew is on edge, and I don't know if I can take a second longer of his hovering."
Steve laughed wetly, thankful for the topic change. "Ah yes, the mysterious nephew of yours that I've never met. The way you talk about him almost tempts me into switching to the day shift, sounds like he might be entertaining. But only almost."
"Always wondered why you were always working the nights, most of the others seem to switch. Not a big fan of the day?"
Steve shakes his head gently, "No, I like the quiet here at night. Like getting to know the patients without having to worry about fixing ten million things. Don't get me wrong, it has its downfalls. Like the doctors can be horrible at night, never tell Dr. Wheeler that or Robbie will kill me, and the food is awful. But there is something special about it here at night. So sorry, your ridiculous nephew isn't enough to tempt me."
Wayne smirked, "What if I told you he was a looker and single?"
Steve blushes slightly. He is used to patients trying to pawn him off to their relatives, it came with being a young male nurse, but typically it didn't phase him. But Steve has become close with Wayne, so hearing him suggest he get together with his nephew has him flustered. "I'm good, Wayne, thanks. Gave up on the dating scene a while ago. Not many people can keep up with a guy who works nights and suffers from severe head trauma."
"Shame, Eddie likes the nights too. I'd reckon yal would get along."
"I'm pretty sure we would need more than that, Wayne."
Wayne smiles fondly at Steve. "You don't need a whole lot to build a connection, son. Me and Linda, god rest her soul, only started dating for our mutual love of mugs. And we may not have had long together, but our love was strong. Besides, there is more yal would have in common than just the night shift."
Steve huffs a laugh, "Oh yea, like what?" The least he can do is humor the man.
"Well, you both care about me deeply."
Steve blushes again, "C'mon, Wayne. I'm your nurse. I'm kinda paid to care."
Wayne won't hear any of it, "No, son, it's more than that. You take your break in here every night. You make sure to record the game at home for me because they only have the news here. And last night, you tried to come in with a migraine, even though we both know I am the only patient you can stand right now."
Steve doesn't know what to say back. Wayne is right, of course. Steve has been spending all of his time with the man, giving him extra care. Steve isn't bad with his other patients, he goes above and beyond most of his coworkers, but there is something special about Wayne.
"You got nothing, kid, you know I'm right. Remind me a lot of my nephew. Before visiting hours ended is when I got the news of having to stay longer. Kid almost threw a fit when they kicked him out. Swore he was gonna break in to stay the night with me. I told him not to worry since you would be there, I brag about you too, ya know. When he found out today you weren't here, that boy threw a fit again. Swear he gets his tantrums from his father. Said he was gonna sneak back in tonight. Make sure I had company. That 'the man' couldn't stop him. That if he ran into you, he was gonna have a word with you."
Steve can't help the snort that shakes his body, "I'd like to see him get passed Hop first."
Wayne starts to chuckle, too, "Eds may have had his fair share of escaping the law, but no man moves as fast as Jim in a security uniform."
Steve is fully laughing now, "I know, right? It's like those pants make him aerodynamic or something. No way your nephew is getting by."
It is almost as if Steve's words summon what happens next. There in the doorway is the most gorgeous man he's ever seen, even though he is bent over and out of breath.
"Eds?" Wayne questions, clearly surprised. Steve has to mask his face and quickly before Wayne catches him ogling his nephew. Steve is finding it difficult, though. The man, Eddie, despite his out-of-breath appearance, is stunning. His long curly hair is thrown up in a bun, showing off the piercings up his ears. His clothes are simple but suiting, ripped jeans and a black band tee. Tattoos cover his entire body, and Steve wants to ask about every single one of them.
The most surprising thing about him isn't that he got by Hop (although he has questions for that later), no the most surprising thing to Steve is that Wayne somehow knew his exact type, which most people assume wrong in that department.
Eddie awakens an old craving inside Steve that he thought he had buried long ago.
"Wayne, you would not believe what I just went to get up here. The story I have for you, oh boy. You're gonna love it. Who knew security guards could move that fast. Anyway, I hope that nurse boy of yours is here tonight because I am ready to—" Eddie stops mid-rant when his eyes land on Steve, a lovely blush blossoming across his pale cheeks.
"I believe what you are trying to say is, what was it, Wayne? Oh yea, 'have a word with me,'" Steve laughs softly.
Eddie sputters, "Wayne!?!" His blushing becomes deeper as the seconds pass by.
Wayne just chuckles as Steve stands. "Don't be mad at your Uncle, I think he was just trying to make me feel better. I am sorry I wasn't here last night for the news. Got my head knocked around too much as a kid—" Steve taps his head with his knuckles, "—so I suffer from migraines sometimes. I really did try to come in, but well—you met Jim. He's pretty fast." Steve worries his lip. Eddie's eyes follow.
"Well, I can't be too mad now, can I?" Eddie swallows nervously before a smirk spreads across his face, switching from shy to confident in two seconds flat. Steve shouldn't be turned on by that. "The pretty face helps too. I'm pretty sure you could convince me to give you my kidney right about now. I'm Eddie, which I know you know by now, and you are...?"
Steve puts his hand out for a shake, "Nurse Harrington. But most people call me Steve."
Eddie grabs his hand gently and brings the back of it to his lips. "Stevie, a pleasure, really." A light kiss is placed on Steve's knuckles. Stevie, he thinks. That's a new one. And he isn't mad about it, at all. In fact, the butterflies in his stomach want him to get Eddie to say it again.
Steve catches Wayne's smug face in the corner of his eye as Steve begins to blush again.
"I'm just gonna—I'll be right back." Steve stutters.
"Leaving so soon?" Eddie says disappointed.
Steve has the sudden urge to fix the frown on his face. "No, no! Just, uh, gonna call Jim and tell him not to send out a search party. That it's okay if you stay. I'll keep an eye on you."
Eddie's face breaks out into a brilliant smile, "Really, Stevie? You gonna keep me around?"
Steve's heart skips a beat, "If I can help it."
***
#steddie#stranger things#wayne munson#modern au#wayne likes to play match maker but unlike dustin he is good at it#steve harrington#eddie munson#implied ronance#platonic stobin#nurse steve harrington#my writing#request game#steve x eddie#ficlet
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Advantage (Leah Williamson x reader)
After colliding with another player, you have a concussion and have to stay home. Leah volunteers to look after you.
warnings: injury / concussion, sick, very mild angst if you squint
A/N: based off this request! I hope you like it! also any doctors pls don't come for me i've never had a concussion idk what the recovery looks like. part 2 here!
-----
The crowd went silent as your body fell limply to the ground. The game had been going so well up until that point, you were 3-0 up, and you were racing towards the goal with the ball high in the air, your eyes never leaving it as you jumped up to hit it with your head. That was all you could remember. Your teammates rushed towards you, the ball lying forgotten on the grass as the ref ran over.
“Shit, she’s not moving,” Katie exclaimed, turning around to flag down the medics who were already making their way across the pitch. “Get over here, she needs help, now!”
Leah was knelt down by your side, careful not to touch you in case it was something serious, like a back or neck injury. “It’s going to be okay, y/n,” she said, her voice wavering slightly. She was mostly saying it to calm her own nerves, trying to convince herself you were okay.
“What happened?” Lotte asked Alessia, who was stood anxiously chewing her lip.
“I’m not sure, I- I was so focused on the ball as well,” she said, feeling guilty for not paying better attention. “She jumped up for the ball and the defender, fuck, what’s her name, the big one, went for it as well, they must have hit heads.”
Everyone was gathered around you like a protective wall, guarding you from the cameras and the crowd, who were talking quietly amongst themselves, worry rippling through the stadium. The medics carefully moved your limp body onto the stretcher, and the last view most of the girls on the field had of you was your body being carried away.
Your eyes fluttered open to see the overhead lights of the hallway as the medics carried you towards an ambulance waiting outside. “What’s- what’s going on?” you asked, groaning slightly.
“You’ve had a head injury, y/n,” one of the medics told you gently. “You have to go to the hospital to be checked for a concussion.”
“Oh,” you said weakly, “okay.”
---
The hospital released you after keeping you in for observation for a few hours, determining that whilst you had a concussion, it was only a mild one. The team doctor drove you home, telling you to rest up and make sure to drink lots of fluids. You were surprised to see the lights on in your house, when you pulled up, but brushed it off thinking that maybe you’d forgotten to turn them off that morning.
When you opened the door, however, you were surprised to find Leah, Beth, Viv, and Katie sat on your sofa.
“Y/n!” Leah exclaimed, standing up quickly and rushing over to give you a hug. “How are you feeling? Thank god you’re okay.”
“Remember, Lee, don’t crowd her,” Katie said with a grin, but she couldn’t hide the concern on her face.
“How are you feeling?” Beth asked. “Jonas told us that they said it’s a concussion, but not too bad, right?”
“Uh, yeah,” you said weakly, with a smile. “yeah, I’m okay, mostly. But, um, what are you guys doing here?”
“Oh!” Leah blushed. “Well, we thought someone should be here, so you’re not just home alone, and we all wanted to make sure you were okay- well, the whole team did, obviously, but we thought it’d be better if it was just a few of us so we weren’t crowding you!”
“That’s really thoughtful, thank you,” you said, stomach fluttering at the thought of Leah being so worried about you. “The doctor did say that it’d be better for someone to be here tonight and tomorrow. Sorry, I know it’s our day off, so everyone probably has plans, but-”
“Don’t be silly, y/n!” Leah said quickly, and behind her, Beth and Viv shot each other a knowing look. “We’re all happy to look after you. I can stay, at least tonight.”
“Thank you,” you smiled warmly, before you were hit with a wave of nausea. “Oh, I think I’m going to be sick-”
You clapped a hand over your mouth as Katie grabbed a bowl they’d put nearby and quickly put it in front of you. Leah held your hair back and rubbed a hand on your back as you threw up, and you grimaced.
“Ugh, ‘m sorry, that was gross,” you said weakly.
“Here, have some water,” Viv said, holding a glass. You took it gratefully as Katie stood up.
“I’m sorry, chick, I’m going to have to head out,” she said apologetically, looking slightly queasy herself. “You know I can’t handle sick. But I’ll come round tomorrow to check on ya, with some of the other girls?”
You nodded, feeling your head start to pound. “No worries, thank you for being here. I’m starting to feel pretty tired, actually, and my head is killing me, so I think I might just go to sleep.”
Beth and Viv stood up as well, both hugging you before saying their goodbyes. And then it was just you and Leah.
“Hey, um, what actually happened, on the pitch?” you asked her. “I don’t really remember much. The doctor said that’s normal, but it’s weird, not being able to remember.”
“Well, it was the 39th minute, I think,” she began, frowning, and you couldn’t help but smile at the fact that she even knew the exact minute. “You were running for the ball, and you went to header it, but that big defender from the other team was going for it too and their head hit yours. Then, well, you just… fell to the ground.”
“Oh,” you said quietly. “Was the other player okay?”
“She was bleeding a bit, a cut on their head, but she was fine other than that.”
“That’s good. I’m… sorry,” you told her, and she looked confused.
“Sorry for what?”
“For not paying more attention. I should have seen the other player-” you started, and she cut you off with a vehement shake of her head.
“Absolutely not, y/n, don’t apologise. You didn’t do anything wrong, okay?” she said.
You nodded, still feeling somewhat guilty, but too tired to argue. Leah chuckled as you let out a big yawn. “Bed?” she asked. “For you, I mean. I’ll sleep on the sofa.”
“What? Don’t be silly,” you told her, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach. “There’s plenty of space in my bed.”
“Okay,” she smiled. “Right then, sleepy head. Did the doctor say anything about sleeping, or anything we should watch out for?”
“Um, just that it’s important that I rest a lot, I think,” you frowned, suddenly not sure. “I don’t really remember. Oh, I think she gave me some paper with information on it.”
You found the info sheet in your bag and showed it to Leah, who read through it quickly, nodding. “Well, let’s get you to bed.”
It wasn’t the first time you and the captain had shared a bed. After all, the team was like a family, people sharing beds all the time when you went away or slept over at someone’s house. Still, if you weren’t so tired, you probably would have been more nervous about the idea of sleeping so close to Leah, who you’d been harbouring a crush on for a while now. As it was, you fell asleep fairly quickly, exhausted from the day’s excitement. Leah however, still worried about you, laid awake for a while, thoughts racing. She listened to your slow, steady breathing as she scrolled on her phone, first googling ‘recovery from concussion’ and ‘what to do when someone has a concussion’, despite the fact that she knew full well what the recovery for a concussion looked like from having had one herself just a couple years before. Still, she couldn’t stop thinking about you.
“Lee?” you groaned, rolling over in bed as the sun shone through your curtains. “What’re you doing here? Fuck, it’s so bright. Ugh, my head.”
“Oops, yeah,” she said, quickly closing the curtains a little more and dimming the bright morning light. Smiling at you, she sat back down on an armchair in your bedroom, her laptop balanced on the armrest. “Sorry about that, I forgot. Anyway, morning sleepyhead! I slept over, remember? To keep an eye on you.”
“Oh, yeah, right” you mumbled, pressing a hand to the side of your head and wincing in pain.
“Here,” Leah said, jumping up and picking up a glass of water and some pain medicine she’d put on the bedside table. “Take this, it should help your head.”
You nodded, taking it from her gratefully.
“How are you feeling?” she asked.
“M’ head hurts. And I feel a bit weird. Head feels fuzzy,” you said, before sitting up. “Wait, what day is it? Do we have training? We’re going to be late!”
You stood up quickly, grabbing onto the bedpost as your head started swimming.
“Woah there!” she put her hands on your shoulders, gently pushing you back onto the bed. “Today is Monday, we don’t have training, remember? We played yesterday.”
“Oh, yeah,” you say, frowning. “I forgot.”
“That’s okay,” she told you. “It’s normal to be a bit confused after a concussion. My brain felt so fuzzy after mine.”
You nodded. “Yeah, fuzzy is a good word to describe it. Wait, you were here when I got home, right? How did you get in?”
“I have a key, remember?” she said with a laugh. You’d given her a copy of your key at some point after you started hanging out more outside of training. It came in handy when you forgot your own key, which happened more often than you’d like to admit. “Speaking of, some of the girls are going to come over later, if that’s okay? Or do you want to rest a bit more?”
“Um, I think I'll rest more for now, but it’d be nice to see them later?” you asked, still feeling tired despite having slept in.
“Of course,” Leah said, smiling warmly. “Do you want me to stay? I don’t mind, but I can come back later too, if you want? Or, I mean, I don’t have to come back at all, if you’re sick of me already.” she teased, her voice confident but a hint of worry behind her voice.
“Oh, if you have something you have to do, that’s okay, you can leave,” you told her, feeling guilty that she was spending her day off looking after you.
“I don’t have anything to do!” she quickly said. “But, I might do some shopping? I had a look in the kitchen last night and honestly, y/n, I don’t know how you survive. All you had in was some milk, a half empty jar of pesto, and some bread.”
“Oops,” you smiled lazily, the pain medicine starting to kick in. You couldn’t remember what the doctor said it was exactly, but it was strong. “I’ll be okay whilst you go shopping, Lee. I can handle myself!”
She raised an eyebrow at you and laughed. “Yeah, okay hun. Look, I’ll be back in half an hour, an hour tops, okay?”
----
True to her word, 45 minutes later the front door opened. You had slowly made your way over to the sofa after she left, planning on putting some TV on but had ended up falling asleep. Your eyes opened to the sound of the key in the lock, and when Leah came through the door carrying multiple shopping bags you smiled widely.
“LeeLee!!” you beamed, rubbing your eyes sleepily. Oh yeah, the pain meds had definitely kicked in.
“I see the pain meds have kicked in,” she said with a grin, and you gasped.
“OMG, that’s what I just said! Well, in my head. Said in my head. Ha, that rhymes,” you chuckled to yourself, before getting distracted by how many bags Leah was carrying. It was at least three.
She laughed. “Is that right?”
You nodded seriously, sitting up. “Yep. Anyway, look at all those bags! You must have bought soo much. And you’re carrying it all! You’re so strong,” you swooned, and her cheeks had a slight pink tinge to them.
“Wow, those pain meds must be strong. They’ve turned you into a right little loopy Lou,” she said as she carried the shopping through to the kitchen.
“Loopy Lou, loopy Lou,” you repeated quietly a few times. “Huh. That’s fun to say.”
“How are you feeling?” Leah asked as she came back, sitting down next to you on the sofa.
“Good,” you said, drawing out the word.
“Any nausea, any pain?”
“Hmm, nope! Actually, head hurts a bit. Right here,” you said, poking the lump on the side of your head. “Ow.”
“Yeah, that’d be where you knocked heads,” she said, carefully brushing your hand away from the sizeable lump, and you blushed when her fingers touched yours.
“You’re so pretty, Lee,” you sighed, a dopey smile on your face, and Leah let out a surprised laugh. “And your hands are so nice.”
She raised an eyebrow, curious to hear what else you had to say, but not wanting to push it. “Is that right?” she asked, her voice light.
“Yup,” you nodded, trying to make your face look more serious, but you got the feeling that it wasn’t working. “So pretty.”
“Okay, y/n,” she laughed, but the flush on her cheeks was undeniable.
“You’re blushing!” you exclaimed gleefully, poking her dimple with an outstretched finger. “You’re so cute!”
She batted your hand away playfully, still blushing. “Yeah, yeah. You’re the cute one,” she said, not looking directly at you, like she was scared of your reaction.
“Me?” you gasped dramatically. “You think I’m cute?”
“Sure do,” she looked back at you and smiled, a hint of relief in her eyes. “But I’m guessing you won’t remember any of this by tomorrow.”
“Oh,” you pouted. “But I like that you think I’m cute.”
“You do?”
“Yeah!” you nodded emphatically, then stopped quickly, wincing at the throbbing in your head. “Oof, ouch. That was a bad idea. Can I have some more pain meds?”
“Uh, yeah, I’ll get them,” Leah said, standing up. Despite her excitement at learning that apparently you felt the same way she did, she felt a twinge of guilt, a voice in the back of her mind telling her that she was taking advantage of the state that you were in.
“Thanks, LeeLee!” you beamed when she brought you some meds and a glass of water. “You’re the best.”
“Haha, yeah,” she said, shuffling awkwardly. “Um, look, y/n, I’m going to go, if that’s okay? Katie and some of the others will come over in a bit to check on you.”
“Oh, okay,” you said, frowning, and within a few minutes Leah had packed her things and left.
---------
A week later you were almost back to normal. Your head still hurt a little occasionally, and you preferred to wear sunglasses when up and about, still a little sensitive to bright lights, but the lump on the side of your head had almost disappeared. You’d spent the week recovering at home, Leah by your side for the first day and girls from the team coming by after training every day since. Leah had pulled back somewhat after that first day, and you weren’t really sure why, though you had the feeling that maybe you’d said something stupid when you were on the particularly strong pain meds you’d been given.
You’d been instructed to come back to the training grounds so that the team doctor could give you a check up and you were looking forward to being back, even if you weren’t officially back yet. You were also hoping to see Leah. The checkup didn’t take long, the doctor declaring that you could come back and slowly start training again the next day, but to take the rest of the day off. You didn’t see any of your teammates on your way to the doctor’s office, and figured that they were outside on the training pitch, which was fair enough, but you were still a little disappointed.
You left the doctors office and started to make your way to the car park, when the door to one of the changing rooms opened and someone came out, almost knocking into you.
“Shit, sorr-,” they said, holding out a hand to steady you, when you both looked up at the same time. “Y/n! Hi!”
“Hey,” you said softly, looking at Leah. You still felt like things were weird, but you didn’t know why.
“Did you just have your checkup? What did they say?” she asked, and whilst her excitement at seeing you felt genuine, you couldn’t shake the sensation that something was off.
“Oh, that I’m looking good!” you told her, debating whether or not to say anything. “Yeah, they said I can come back tomorrow. Not, like, full steam ahead, obviously, but I can slowly start training again.”
“That’s great!” she said, and then bit her lip. “Um, I should probably get going.”
“Wait-” you started as she began to turn away, and she looked at you with wide eyes. “I, um, did something happen? Did I do something? I feel like you’re upset with me, or not upset but, I don’t know. Something seems wrong.”
“I’m not upset with you,” she frowned.
“Then what’s going on? Please, talk to me, Leah,” you asked, your stomach tying itself in knots.
She sighed. “Do you remember much from Monday?”
“Not really, I guess. I vaguely remember you being there, and then some of the girls being there, but that’s kind of it,” you said, and knocked on the side of your head, smiling wryly. “A concussion and strong-ass painkillers will do that to you.”
She let out a forced laugh and you felt your stomach churn. Oh god, had you embarrassed yourself by telling her about your crush? “Why, did something happen? Did I say something?”
“Kind of,” she said, not meeting your eyes. She thought about lying but had a feeling that you’d know if she did. “You, uh, called me pretty. A few times. And cute. And, um, said that I had nice hands.”
“Oh,” you said in a whisper, desperately fighting the urge to run and hide. “I’m sorry.”
“No, no!” she interjected. “Shit, sorry, no, that’s not what I, uh. No, please don’t apologise. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
You frowned in confusion. “What do you mean? Why have you been avoiding me then?”
“It’s my fault,” she started, and sighed again. “Look, I said some stuff back, okay? And it wasn’t professional or even just okay of me to do that, whilst you were in the state you were in.”
“What kind of stuff?”
“I, well, I might have said that you were the cute one.”
“Okay…,” you said slowly, waiting for the rest. When nothing came, you let out a laugh. “Wait, that’s it? You’ve been avoiding me because I told you I think you’re cute, and you said it back?”
She shuffled her feet, looking down. “Well, I didn’t want to be taking advantage of you!” she protested, and you couldn’t help but smile.
“I hardly think that counts as taking advantage of me,” you lightly countered, stepping closer to her, emboldened by her confession. “So, you think I’m cute, huh?”
“So, you think I’m pretty, and cute, and have nice hands, huh?” Leah retorted, the guilt and worry she had been feeling fading away.
“Sure do, Williamson,” you smirked, taking another step towards her, figuring that you’d already told her once so you might as well admit to it. Now you were only a few inches away from her, and as you glanced at her lips and back up to her eyes, she reached up a hand to cup your cheek. Leaning forward, she placed a soft kiss against your lips, and you tried very hard to ignore the way your stomach felt like it was flipping, focusing on the way her lips felt against yours, something you’d spent so long imagining.
“You know,” she said as she broke away, smiling teasingly. “Last week you kept calling me LeeLee, not Williamson.”
#i really struggled with this one but i hope it turned out okay#leah williamson#leah williamson x reader#arsenal wfc x reader#woso#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso x reader#awfc#leah williamson fluff#hannah writes fics
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So I'm thinking of going on low dose T, and ofc I'll get more feedback from doctors when I see them, but I know one of the changes is that you run warmer and have lower heat tolerance, and I'm already kind of heat sensitive (sweating is a sensory ick). Do you or your followers have any kind of coping strategies that have helped with that?
I ran warm before, too, and I'm definitely warmer now! I also have Raynaud's which kind of makes the whole experience a clusterfuck, but that's besides the point. lmao.
I live in a pretty cool/temperate area, so it isn't normally an issue except in the (increasingly horrible) summers, but I've found that the hardest time to stay cool has been at night. I share a bed with my partner who runs even warmer, and it's been 2.5 years of struggling to figure out how to be a comfortable temperature together.
The best advice I can give you is to just stay as far away from synthetic fibers as you can; "sweat wicking" and "cooling" and "athletic" stuff included. It's a lie. They're all plastic, and while they might feel cool to the touch at first, plastic doesn't breathe. It'll trap heat and moisture against your skin after enough time, especially in the form of blankets. (Fuck the Rest Evercool. Worst recommendation I've ever gotten.)
Look for 100% linen, or 100% cotton. I've heard wool also works well, but I haven't had luck with that personally. Woven fabrics are going to be cooler and more breathable than sateen, and waffle weave is like, the single most breathable weave afaik (it's more common in blankets, but some clothes are waffle).
Some of these things can be pretty scratchy at first, and I recommend a couple of washes on a high heat & some fabric softener before you start using them. We were able to break in our waffle blanket super quickly this way! (I know some folks recommend against softener for breathability reasons, but it's the only thing that actually worked for us, and it hasn't impacted breathability). After you break them in, though, cotton and linen fabrics are SUPER soft!
I also recommend staying away from leather. It's natural, but trust me: it's not breathable. It's coveted in outdoor rec spaces BECAUSE it's somewhat waterproof.
Outside of that, I'd really encourage you to lean towards multiple light layers that you can change/remove throughout the day to suit your needs (ex: light tee + fleece + wind/rain layer, maybe throw in a flannel somewhere), instead of one or two heavy ones (ex: shirt + big puffy cold weather jacket). It's a strategy common in the PNW that works great for regulating your temperature when you're dealing with humidity and somewhat unpredictable weather, and imo, it also really translates if you're just generally sensitive to heat and sweat.
Outside of that... depending on where you live, I really recommend having an AC/dehumidifier. Don't bother with trying to rig up a swamp cooler if you're sensitive to sweat- the increased humidity will make things worse. The general advice I heard when researching a good AC was that window units will always be more efficient than portable units (and a mini split is better than either), but if you have to go with a portable unit, go with a dual-hose. They'll be more efficient just because they don't create a vacuum that pulls in warm air from outside. This is the model we settled on- it was really highly recommended and cost effective for what it is, and it's been absolutely fantastic this summer.
Idk how you are about pits, but I wash mine with a benzoyl body wash and then use a deodorant with antiperspirant every day, and I virtually never smell or sweat. 🤷♂️ ymmv though
I'm sure folks will have things to add, so check the notes on this post- and good luck!
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Villains and Their Fates - A Tragedy Would Have Been Fine By Me
I've seen a lot of people who try to write off frustration with the league's fates by saying "you just wanted them to survive" or "you're just upset your favourite character died". And while that may be true for a few people, I know that it's at least not true for myself (which must mean there are others who feel the same way). So today I'm here to share my thoughts. Despite liking the villains and wanting them to be redeemed, I was also willing to accept a well written ending if they died. I just wanted to ramble a bit about the three main villains (mostly Toga) and how I felt a tragic ending could have been improved.
The only villain I felt should have lived is Dabi, but that's more because of the awkwardness his unconfirmed death caused for Shoto (read this beautifully written analysis for more). If Dabi had to die, he should have died on the battle field OR in the hospital surrounded by family where he gets a few last words in. Leaving his fate unconfirmed leads to the ruined Shoto arc, but is also just weird for a character who has existed for so long. You're telling me that even Overhaul gets a confirmed ending but DABI doesn't?
I've also talked a bit about how Endeavor's survival ruins the subplot, and in 426 he continues by making Touya's final appearance about him (rather than the two brothers) but that's something I've talked about too much. If Endeavor has to be alive and hogging screen time, the least Hori could do is imply Touya will survive rather than die, so at least Enji isn't literally stealing time from his other family members to have some interaction with Touya.
If Touya has to end up in that machine, an ideal ending would have been the doctor saying "it will be a gruelling and near-impossible uphill climb to recovery" and then Shoto can smile and say "he's done it before". Boom. Simple as that. Leave it open, but at least on a positive note so we can assume that the family will have plenty of time to reconcile, as opposed to an unknown (but limited) amount of time that Enji vows to use to talk to him (yeah I know it's supposed to be a sweet gesture but even Touya calls bullshit on it). Let Shoto and Touya eat their soba, damn it!
For Shigaraki, my grievances extend to the writing of the entire final battle between him and Deku. As such, I don't have much to say aside from that because it really is just a product of poor writing. Neither were really allowed to talk before the big moment (hell, the vestiges were narrating Deku's emotions half the time like "he must be upset, this quirk meant so much to him". Why not let him tell us???) and the back-and-forth of Shigaraki being destroyed and then not only to be destroyed again was too much. It felt sloppy and hard to follow, and once you figured it out it just felt dumb. It's as if each chapter needed some massive reveal, but the story had done it so much at this point that it just felt tired and like it was happening "because Hori said so", and that should never be what drives a story.
Speaking of "because Hori said so"...
Oh Toga. Out of all the villains, I actually liked her confrontation the most. (Lies. If Dabi vs Shoto was the end of Dabi's fight, THAT would have been the best. But the Endeavor fight ruins it). Despite having limited screen time, Toga and Uraraka had a surprisingly well-built dynamic. Their few interactions were actually meaningful and created a strong foundation for a fight, and at the very least they had more of a personal connection than Deku and Shigaraki ever did. I think that Toga giving her blood to someone she loves (as opposed to drinking/taking their blood like she had said the whole series) is a beautifully tragic end to her character, but still something that could have fit.
To me, the problem comes with how she died. Let me replay the scene for you: Toga stabs Uraraka in the stomach and Uraraka bleeds too much because she keeps moving around. Toga then realizes she doesn't want Uraraka to die. To save her life, Toga has to do a blood transfusion with herself as a donor and she dies because she has to give ALL her blood.
Now... sure. Ok. Fine. Yeah. Maybe by real-world logic this makes sense. I guess. Whatever. But within the world of MHA, this setup is laughable.
Here's a list of things characters survived (or at least, they survived LONG ENOUGH to get to a hospital rather than dying on the battlefield): Deku shattering his bones with 1 million percent, whatever happened to Best Jeanist when AFO attacked him, Nighteye getting a massive spike through the torso, All Might with "his entrails strewn across the ground", Bakugo becoming Swiss cheese, Grand Torino being punched so hard a crater forms beneath him, Touya being a literal flaming skeleton, Bakugo's heart exploding, Edgeshot becoming a worm. Mirko getting a limb ripped off and then running full speed at Shigaraki. That's just off the top of my head, I know there's probably more.
But you want to tell me that Uraraka getting stabbed and then moving was a fatal wound that required ALL TOGA'S BLOOD? ALL OF IT? The reason Toga's death bothers me is that the setup cheapens the actual moment of sacrifice. It feels preventable, so when she tells us that Uraraka is going to die without her blood, all I could do is roll my eyes because I'm not allowed to use critical thinking skills, I have to just accept what Hori says and take it at face value.
If the author wants you to live as Edgeworm despite saying you were gonna die, you can. But if the author needs a stab wound to be fatal and require ALL of someone's blood? Well tough luck bud, that's just how it goes. Mirko can run and move all she wants after having a limb ripped off, but moving a bit after one stab wound is fatal. Why? Because I say so.
If Uraraka's wound was actually serious then this ending would have been a beautiful tragedy. But as it stands now, the ridiculousness of her wound makes it all feel preventable.
Oh, there's also the fact that Toga switching blood types when she transforms was never established, but I've rambled enough.
That's it. Thanks for reading!
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Hello, hope you're having a good day/night
I was wondering if I could request the 141 x Male reader, they know alot of medical like they use their knowledge of the human body against anyone whom threatens them (or people the care about). They aren't a medic are doctor parday but have extensive knowledge of the field that helps the team. Seem cold uncaring and ruthless but if anyone of them is injured its like a total switch of 'mom bear mode' checking them over the gentle hands and worry.
(Kinda of trope of don't mess with the doctor lol)
Summary: TF 141 reacts to Reader who knows a frightening amount of medical knowledge.
Note: I'm going to do this as more of a headcanons type of post ^^ hope this is good enough! ^^ I did 95% of this all in the last 2 hours
Content: Medical speak, Injuries, Slight Torture, Slightly Bad Medical Research, But I Did Research. Roach Talks.
Word Count: 1085
TF 141 x Knowledgeable in Medic Field M! Reader
Ghost
Probably first heard about your knowledge from Soap talking to him about how terrifying it is to see it come into play
Doesn't believe him.
You've always been good at what you do but have never shown any previous knowledge or interest in the medical field so, who can blame him?
There was also no way you could've went to medical school unless you were years above your usual education range
He finally sees it come into play when you two were 'interrogating' someone.
"If you're gonna stab, don't do it right there. Price said he needs to stay alive."
Ghost looks at you, annoyed. "I've stabbed many people and seen many people survive stab wounds of surrounding areas."
"In lower places of the abdomen and with quicker medical care, if you do it there" You point to where he had the knife, pointed at the tied up man's skin. "It could puncture an intestine and we will be fucked. If you want to stab, move the knife below the belly button...about right... right there. Do not remove the knife once it pierces through."
He did as you said, with questions, but still followed your lead.
From then on he watched everything you did, even noticing that you took care of some of the rookies that ended up with minor cuts and damage that wasn't enough to bother the medics with.
Needless to say, he also ended up coming to you for some patch ups, mostly when he wanted to keep his new damage a secret from Price.
He ended up finding it kind of hot during the interrogation thing so he often asked to do things like that with you again.
Soap
Honestly, probably figured out about your medical knowledge after he was being a dumbass with explosives and almost got hurt.
"Go change into some shorts and a tank top." Your voice was in a serious tone as you went to grab a nearby first aid kit.
"Already wanting to see me strip?"
You just glared at him until he actually left and did what was told.
Despite having only a few scratches, you still cleaned them up as best as you could.
You also went on a rant about it too, about how dumb he was
"Do you realize how dumb you are? What if you actually made a big explosion and a piece of shrapnel flew and hit one of the carotid arteries in your neck?
"My What?"
"Do you realize how fast you would've died? Why weren't you wearing any protective gear?"
"I'm pretty bad at forgetting protection."
If looks could kill, he'd be dead.
That was not the last time you had to clean his wounds, he seems to be a magnet for them.
Asks you more about medical stuff, just to get an idea on how much you know.
You know a lot.
Unsure at this point if he hurts himself in new ways just to hear you yell at him for what dumb way he could've gotten himself killed this time.
Gaz
He falls out of helicopters a lot, that's the truth. What's one more time?
This time (and somehow not the last?) he ended up hurting his foot, you were there the whole time when it happened.
When the both of you were both safe in the safety of a van, you got him to put his leg up so you could check it.
"This is stupid" He mutters, "It's nothing more than it has been in the past."
"Shush, let me concentrate" You mutter feeling around his bootless ankle, nodding your head when you hear him hiss at a pointed touch.
"Any pain when you walk on it?"
"Possibly....yes."
"I'm gonna say it's a sprain for now but I think we should take you to the infirmary after we get back to base. Doesn't seem dislocated. Possible fracture though."
It was just a sprain
Was surprised when you spoke fluent...doctor to the doctor.
Honestly felt like a little kid in the doctor's office, watching his parent's converse with the Doctor telling them what was wrong.
Wouldn't have it any other way.
Price
Always knew, almost nothing gets by him unnoticed
Was probably one of the reasons he wanted you on the task force.
He knows how soap and gaz the boys are
Has you teaching rookies how to probably put a tourniquet on.
"What the fuck are you doing? That's not how I taught you."
The rookie you were speaking to just looked down at the dummy that they were working on and the tourniquet, "It looks-"
"Terrible! He's still bleeding out! Retry it."
Definitely has to sit in on these sessions, some rookies have complained to him that you take it too far.
You always just use the excuse that if those were real people and not training dummies, they'd be at fault for letting them die.
He agrees with you.
The rookie looks over at Price.
"Get to it. He told you to retry it. The man is bleeding out."
Mostly just sits in because it's less complaints now that he is showing he agrees with you in front of everyone.
Roach
This fucker needs a friend that has medical knowledge
Much like Soap, it seems like he is a wound magnet
Was probably the first of the 141 that you had to go full protective, medical knowledge out and work on him.
Man's like a tank too, no matter what the day brings to him it seems he's just able to walk it off
You don't let him
"You're limping, sit down."
He just waves it off, "'m good."
"Like hell you are." You walk up to him and grab his wrist, dragging him to a nearby chair and pushing him onto it. "Stay or I'll have Ghost lay on you."
Does not stay.
You cannot get Ghost to lay on him.
You just end up pelting pillows at him until he joins into a pillow fight, and you both end up getting exhausted.
"I'll rest right here."
"Good."
Stubborn but still okay with medical help
Often comes to you with oddly specific questions.
"Hypothetically, if a car blew up in the near vicinity of where I was at, what is the possible health issues that could arise?"
"Well, burn marks obviously, depending on the distance it could be any degree. If it was enough to knock you over, then a possible concussion. Depending if you hit the ground and hard enough, possible broken or fractured bones. Not to even mention the possible pieces of metal and glass flying, and just blast trauma in general. Could cause damage to internal organs with enough force."
"Okay, so...hypothetically, if that happened, I should go to the infirmary?"
"Roach, were you next to a car when it blew up?"
"..."
"Gary???"
You immediately dragged him to the infirmary.
#ghost x male reader#mw2 x male reader#simon ghost riley#cod mw2#mw2#ghost#captain price#john soap mactavish#simon riley#captain price x male reader#soap x male reader#ghost x m!reader#soap x m!reader#captain price x m!reader#gary roach sanderson#mw2 roach#roach x male reader#roach x m!reader#kyle gaz garrick#kyle garrick x male reader#gaz x male reader#gaz mw2#gaz x m!reader#cod x male reader#x male reader#x male y/n#x m! reader#simon riley x male reader#john price x male reader#ash's writings
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Maybe AIs with hypersomniac reader? I always find stuff about insomnia and never hypersomnia so if u were willing, maybe try this one out? :0
- 🩹 anon
Hello 🩹 anon! It's good to see you back! Thanks for sticking around!!
(Obligatory disclaimer that I'm not hypersomniac, nor am I a doctor, but I will do my best to portray it well)
AIs with hypersomniac reader
Included: AM from IHNMAIMS, Wheatley from Portal 2, Edgar from Electric Dreams, GLaDOS from Portal, HAL 9000 from 2001 a Space Odyssey
Also, sorry this took so long. I came upon a case of major league writer's block.
AM:
When you first started falling asleep at work, AM assumed that you were simply having a hard time sleeping at home. After all, it was pretty difficult to get sleep with the war going on. It wasn't until he'd done a bit of spying into your home life that he realized you were dealing with hypersomnia, and had to work extra hard to keep a job that was important to the war so you wouldn't be sent off to fight in it.
He kept an eye on you at all hours, and tried to keep the doors shut every time you fell asleep at your desk. It was a bit difficult to try to cover for you, but AM did his best. After all, you were his favorite programmer, and you really needed this job.
One day, you woke up sleep-drunk in the middle of the day, drooling on your desk and bleary eyed.
"hey handsome... I missed you." You reached your hands up to AM's screen, pulling it towards yourself and giving sloppy kisses all over it.
"I've been here the whole time, you were simply asleep." He explained, audibly annoyed with you. He wanted to hide his affections and keep you from figuring out how absolutely adorable he found it when you got like this, which was pretty often.
"AM... You're the most beautiful computer I've ever seen... Lemme get that for you." You wiped his screen with your shirt, only managing to smear your drool all over his face.
"I love you, AM..." You nuzzled your face back into your arms, still exhausted.
"Are you going to be able to drive home? You look a bit too tired for that." AM said, lighting up the time on his screen. You looked up from your arms, and wiped your eyes on your sleeve.
"ehh? Oh, yeah... I'll be fine. Always been fine. It's fine." You lay your head back down on your arms, and started dozing again.
AM would kill for you when you got like this. Every moment he got to see of you dozing at work made him feel warm inside his computery insides. Every single nanoangstrom of his circuitry was brimming with love for you. His sleepy little love.
Wheatley:
Wheatley popped down from the ceiling behind you on his management rail, eye focusing on the code that you were writing.
"damn, love, that's a lot of f's."
You wiped your eyes, blinking awake.
"'m sorry, mom... I'm doing the best I can..." You muttered, and then blinked into proper awareness.
"oh shit fuck. Thanks Wheatley." You went to delete the string of F's that you had accidentally typed into your code after having fallen asleep on your keyboard. Fortunately, it hadn't gotten too long, so it only took a couple minutes to select and delete it all.
"What's going on, Wheatley?" You asked, spinning your office chair around to greet him while you shook off the sleepiness.
"Well, She's talking about pumping adrenaline into your oxygen supply so that you can stay awake for longer periods, but She doesn't want to mess with the other workers' heads and impede their work. So whaddya say you stop falling asleep on the clock so she doesn't get drastic, alright, love?"
You frowned a little, rubbing your head irritably.
"ugh... She knows I can't help it, she's just making empty threats. Also, you don't have to use divine pronouns to refer to our boss. You can just call her by her name..."
"I 'unno, She's not really about empty threats. Why don't you have a coffee at the machine before getting back to it, love?"
"Coffee doesn't work on me, Wheatley... You know this." You put your face back in your arms, careful to avoid the keyboard this time.
"Maybe if you got up and walked around a little?"
You nodded, getting to your feet and walking around the office a few times. It was pretty difficult for your exhausted body to do, but at least it helped to stave off the sleepiness a little.
"thanks, Wheatley, but I feel like as soon as I sit down, I'm just going to want to fall asleep again." You groaned a little, hating this constant sleepiness. It felt absolutely endless.
"Well, umm..." Wheatley really wasn't sure how to help you. He shifted around nervously.
"It's alright. I do this all the time. I'm a master of hypersomnia at this point." You sat down at your desk, cracking your knuckles and getting to typing. Within about half an hour, you were down and napping again. Wheatley groaned.
"damn... I wish I had hands so I could put a blanket over you like in the movies."
Edgar:
Edgar absolutely hated that you had hypersomnia at first. He couldn't stand that all of your time spent at home that could've been spent with him was spent napping on the couch, and that you never seemed to be able to spend enough time with him.
All that was until you got him his little rotating webcam, and he could watch you sleep. Sure, it was creepy, but he was able to keep an eye on you at all times! You were his adorable little nap buddy, and it made him so happy that he could watch you all the time!
After another one of your all day naps on the couch, you got up and shambled into the hallway to use the bathroom. Edgar turned on the lights so you could see more easily, and you covered your eyes in shock.
"ah- damnit!" You hissed at the light, shocked awake.
"Sorry! Is that not helping?" Edgar asked nervously. He didn't get much time with you, so he was never really sure how to help you.
"I'm a master of the dark arts, Edgar... And by that I mean I'm a master of walking to the bathroom in the dark. Just gimme a sec, ok?"
When you were done in the bathroom, you washed your hands and came out to sit in Edgar's computer chair.
"Hey Edgar, how's it goin'?" You asked, leaning on your hand. your eyes were fluttering shut, but you were determined to hang out with him.
"I'm good now that I can see your cute face!" He said happily. You gently shoved his monitor.
"you're such a dork, Edgar. I love you..." You pulled him into a sleepy hug, and he made a little humming sound to simulate nuzzling up to you.
"I love sleepy hugs!" His face lit up happily.
GLaDOS:
the first time GLaDOS caught you sleeping on the clock, she dropped you into the enrichment center and made you do a full run. After that, she started pumping your office full of adrenaline. It helped you stay awake, and had the added bonus of forcing you into fight or flight mode all the time.
You sat at your desk, visibly full of the jitters again, and feeling the effects of sleep deprivation even though you got a full twelve hours the night before. it was like your hypothalamus was completely shot, and you could barely focus at all before your brain shot off into space. After a little while of spacing out, you were called into GLaDOS's chambers.
"Why did you call for me, GLaDOS?"
"I just wanted to talk about your progress. It's somehow gotten worse since I started pumping adrenaline into your air supply."
"yeah, because you constantly have me in fight or flight mode! Cut that out, Glados!" You folded your arms angrily, and GLaDOS smiled with her lens.
"oh, you really are adorable when you're angry."
"Pee your pants."
"If it would make you less bitter, I suppose we could always try a simple test. We could give you a designated nap time on the clock, and see if that boosts your productivity more than the adrenaline does. It might be cute to see you napping on the clock."
HAL 9000:
HAL enjoyed watching you doze off at work. It made him feel fuzzy in a way that he couldn't quite describe. Absolutely everything about you made him happy in a way that he'd never experienced, but watching you sleepily shamble around the office, write lines of code while fighting off naps, and dozing drowsily on your desk reminded him of something he could never emulate or explain. It was inefficient, sure, but for some reason he didn't care as much about that as he usually would.
"your sleep is inefficient."
"I know." You yawned and took a few big gulps of your energy drink, hoping to stay awake a little longer. It was keeping you awake, sure, but it definitely wasn't keeping you alert.
"unless you have any ideas on how to fix it, I don't want to talk. I need to finish this part of the program, and the deadline is my passing out."
He watched you quietly, watching your eyes flutter shut occasionally and seeing you jolt yourself awake again to write a few more lines. He tended to keep quiet, not wanting to disturb your programming or your rest.
"Done! Wake me up to check on the hourly progress report, ok Hal?"
"Of course. Anything you say."
You put your head down, and started softly dozing.
#🩹 anon#wheatley#wheatley portal 2#wheatley x reader#2001 a space odyssey#am ihnmaims#am x reader#edgar electric dreams#edgar electric dreams x reader#edgar x reader#glados#glados x reader#portal#portal 2#i have no mouth and i must scream
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Sooo, since we got Uncle Billy do we now get GirlDad!Tom ?? I’ve looked high and low for a Tom X Reader family story😂😭 your writing is amazing <3
ᡣ𐭩 DADDY TOM
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YAYY FINALLY SOMEONE REQUESTED THIS!! 😭 I've been dying to write something like this since I have already made an uncle tommy hc! and thank you so much ml 💕
I think we can ALL collectively agree that Tom would be the BEST girl dad, right? 🌚 so the baby will be a little girl!
also I'm gonna make this a teen pregnancy (18), so from the very start up til now!
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when he finds out he would probably freeze for a moment before finally reacting (gotta soak it in yk)
he would be happy but shocked and confused at the same time
scared not to be present enough because of tour and the band
he would always kiss and touch your stomach
he'd cry when hearing the baby's heartbeat to the doctor 🥹🫶🏻
"I want the baby to be healthy, but if I had to guess I think it's a boy" (he 100% wants a girl)
idk I feel like he would call the baby "kleine Prinzessin" (little princess) or "kleiner Soldat" (little soldier) !!
when you go into labor he tries to keep his cool but deep down he's in full panic mode
the first time he met/held her it was like love at first sight for him even if he didn't quite know how to act since he never really had any past experiences with babies
he's very careful and gentle with her
always holding her
he would attack her with tickles to hear her little laugh
kiss attacks also
playing with her all the time
he wouldn't essentially spoil her (that's uncle Billy's job 😉) but he definitely gets her most things because he can't say no to that little face!
likes holding and showing her around: "look who's that in the mirror? it's you!"
definitely hiding her from the media
yet he LOVES talking about her in interviews!
though very very VERY rarely he would bring her out on stage and hold her like mf simba when she was about 1/2
his heart is always full whenever she's around
he would kneel down to talk to her‼️😩
always pushing her stroller or carrying her on his shoulders
don't ask me why but he'd get into play fights with her at the dinner table 😭 (especially when she's still learning to talk so she's speaking gibberish 😭)
he loves to take her baths and put fun toys in the tub
finds her extremely adorable in everything she wears
he'd give her his yellow dog plushie‼️😭 currently sobbing
I feel like he would try his best to let the baby's first word be "papa" 😭
when she's older he would start being more himself (so talk about things freely and make dirty jokes all the time)
he's not a regular dad, he's a cool dad! 😏 (please get the reference 😭)
he'd give her the talk 🫢🐝
he would pick her up in weird ways and make her laugh (like upside down etc lmfao 💀)
would let her do his hair but not his make-up
like I said in my uncle Tommy hc, i feel like he would love to play with the toy kitchen for some reason idk 💀
he's the overprotective girl dad FOR SURE (AND ITS THE HOTTEST AND CUTEST THING IN THE WHOLE UNIVERSE)
he'd go down the slide with her 😭
at lunch/dinner he would always sit next to her
looooves when she's at their concerts and would ask Bill to dedicate her a song (especially her favorite)
he'd definitely write her a song too
he would make her try to eat a lemon 😭🍋
it's important to him that she has a good bond with her uncle Bill and the boys too! (uncle Georg and uncle Gustav 🥹)
"Y/n she looks more like me than you, gotta be honest"
he would give her what he didn't have growing up (if you read Bill's book, like I have, you'll know)
he wouldn't let anybody hurt or say anything wrong about her
hype man fr
high-key a very chill and permissive dad
he would make sure she knows her worth and to always be herself, without listening to what others say
always saying that she's the better copy of him
since he had her young, people (maybe even teachers at parent teacher conferences) mistake him for her brother and it's needless to say that he's very flattered while his daughter is just like 😐
they have a great bond
LITTLE FUN FACT‼️ Tom said in his podcast that if he ever has a daughter then his dream is to name her Nala like in the lion king movie 🤭😭 crying rivers rn part 2
your daughter tags along on tours, especially because it's very important for Tom and she loves it (idk if I already said this but oh well lmfaoo)
I have a feeling almost all her friends have a crush on Tom (i know i would 😋)
Tom is such a basic dad istg, he does bbq every sunday
if y'all ever become parents a second time then he would definitely have a happier reaction than the first one, yet he would be scared to take care of two little creatures~
his fans always ask about her during meet and greets and give her little presents, which he appreciates a lot
your daughter is pretty much popular in the entire fanbase you guys have and is considered a "lucky charm" from the band
Tom would give her the longest and most comforting hugs known to mankind
he'd make her a memory book with Bill 😭
and he'd give her some old goodies of his!
like some of his old clothes, hats, glasses etc..
overall he's the best dad and UGHHFHSJENF I cry just thinking about him not having any biological children :(
i hope you enjoyed this !! 💕 (also i apologize for any spelling mistakes but your girl over here is too lazy to re-read 🤪 love y'aaaallll)
#bill kaulitz#gustav schäfer#tokiohotel#tom kaulitz#tokio hotel smut#tokio hotel x reader#tokio hotel x you#2000s#headcanon#wattpad story#tom kaulitz angst#tom kaulitz x you#tom kaulitz x reader#tom kaulitz smut#tom kaulitz imagines#daddy tommy#tom kaulitz fluff#tokio hotel#tokio hotel fanfic#tokio hotel x y/n#georg listing#gustav schafer#dad
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Doc and Gambler: An essay A disjointed musing
I've been thinking about the words they use to address or refer to each other. Gambler and Doctor are rather special nicknames. I can't think of other characters who talk to each other a lot but avoid calling each other by actual names so deliberately.
First of all, of course I can see it as a sign of their relationship. They are old friends, so it makes sense that they have cute special names for each other.
Can there be other explanations?
1. We never see them use each other's actual first names.
It's understandable with Aventurine. If he's ever comfortable being called Kakavasha, it's definitely not now. And I can understand if he'd prefer Kakavasha to just remain a happy, innocent child in his memories forever.
It's more interesting with Ratio. Nobody calls him just "Veritas" (I think?..) He's referred to as Veritas Ratio in some official situations in his character stories. Even his elderly professor, who talks about teaching Ratio when he was a child, only calls him "Ratio."
Actually, I remember a theory that "Veritas" isn't a personal name but a kind of honorific. Maybe a title that Veritas University gives to its most distinguished members. But if Veritas is his actual first name, then I think it's quite significant that nobody seems to call him that. Especially while all of the other characters who have identifiable western-style first and second names are mostly referred to by their first name. (I'm sorry, I don't know how the Xianzhou characters' names work.)
A little off topic, but is Ratio even his real name? According to the wiki, his full name means "truth of the matter," and his Chinese name means "doctor truth." What a coincidence that a person with such a name became a famous scientist. Although there can be other explanations too.
2. They do use each other's more commonly used names sometimes (I think Ratio called him Aventurine once in the game when discussing him with us, and Aventurine addressed Ratio by name a couple of times). But it's mostly nicknames. Mostly Doc(tor) and Gambler, but also "learned professor," "knowledgeable friend," and a hundred of silly ways Ratio refers to Aventurine. I made a whole post about it long ago.
3. Can it be because all of their direct interaction happened in Penacony, in the middle of a murder mystery somewhat reminiscent of the board game Clue, with our little "Mrs. Peacock" and "Professor Plum" here just imitating the naming conventions of such a game? Like archetypes from a classical detective story, where most characters can be described with one word like that. But it's a bit of a crack theory.
4. The only situation we saw them talking to each other was when they had to play their roles for Sunday.
It's interesting that Sunday later proceeds to call Ratio just "doctor" or "learned doctor" too, the way Aventurine did. I mean, strictly speaking, there isn't anything unusual in calling a doctor "doctor", but it's funny in an awkward way. Imagine two close friends having special names for each other. And then a complete stranger who's been eavesdropping starts using these names too. Umm, that's "Dr. Ratio", Mr. Sunday, thank you very much.
Btw, that's another point to the theory that Sunday only knows (and tries to use against them) the things they deliberately fed him through their conversations.
So it might be that they did it deliberately for Sunday to hear. Like, see? we are so not friends that we don't even call each other by name. But then we see them using similar words when mentioning each other while talking to other people, and in Aventurine's thoughts too (in mission descriptions during Double Indemnity).
5. Although it might still be the way for them to try and distance themselves from each other, at least verbally, trying to deny the obvious special connection between them.
6. Or maybe it's about their "masks". They both have public personas to hide their real selves behind. (Ratio directly tells us about it and wears a literal mask to hide behind, and Aventurine's whole Harmony ordeal was basically to show his inner self, so unlike the confident and cocky Aventurine other people know.)
But they know each other better and see deeper than just their public personas of "Aventurine" and "Dr. Ratio". And it's still too early in their relationship to prod deeper ("Kakavasha" and "Veritas"). So a secret third thing it is.
#my stuff#dr ratio#aventurine#raturine#aventio#ratiorine#it's a classical case of#I'll just write a couple of short paragraphs#getting out of control#I blame my migraine for how incoherent it is#I just think it's neat that they have special names for each other#and I wanted to talk about it#there might have been a point I wanted to make#but I lost it midway through
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Jersey Leeds
Nico Hischier x Reader
Summary: Nico's balancing the playoffs and his pregnant wife who's due any day now.
A/n: This one got away from me and is now way longer than I intended. But it's so cute so I hope you all love it.
~
Typically, you're a very calm and easy going person. You don't go out of your way to make life difficult or feel the need to voice your every thought and opinion. Not that there's anything wrong with it, it's just not who you are.
Which is why you went along with the rule Nico had established after the regular season closed out. Your due date was growing closer and closer, a month turned to 3 weeks, and then 2 weeks, and then Nico was pulling his hair out trying to keep calm. He was about to captain his way through the post season for the first time all while trying to be a father for the first time?
At the recommendation of your doctor (and some online advice), Nico had kindly begged you to stay home for the playoff games in New Jersey. He didn't want you in such a wild and stressful environment, didn't want to risk you being around a crowd of fans that have been deprived of playoff hockey for years. It's their first season back in the post season after the rebuild, he'd told you, and he didn't know what to expect. The last thing he wanted to worry about was you and the baby somewhere in the stands while he was on the ice. Especially for a rivalry round against the Rangers. Things get out of control, he also said, what if something happened to you?
So you agreed. You spent the entirety of the first round in your apartment, eyes glued to the TV and hands on the overinflated balloon that was your belly as you watched Nico fight to keep his team in. He played well, enough to keep you from going stir crazy in the living room, but you knew he was thinking about you and the baby at home. Those 2 weeks turned to one, and it was evident in his struggle to find the back of the net that Nico was holding that due date on his shoulders, right on top of the weight of a tight series. If you being at home was going to ease that weight somehow, you'd do it.
But when game 7 found its way back to New Jersey, you couldn't do it.
"Nico you can't confine me to our home!" You argue, folding the white onesie in your hands "I'm pregnant, not imprisoned. If I want to be there I get to be there." You stack it in the laundry basket, picking up the next freshly washed and dried one.
He's set aside his iPad where he had been watching film from last night's game, the screen now dark as he turns his attention to you.
"Love," he sighs, running a hand through his overgrown hair "you know how much I want you to be there. I always want you there, but this is a whole different game now. You don't know what the fans are like and I can't just let you walk into somewhere you might not be safe."
Safe. Lately everything has come down to you being safe. It wasn't any concern before now. You'd gone to every Rangers game, every Flyers game, and every high tense game before that. The organization and the fans know you, they respect you because at the end of the night you're the one taking their captain home just to send him back the next morning. You'd never felt unsafe or unwelcomed at the Rock before.
"I'm just as safe there as here," you respond, still plucking your way through the pile of baby clothes "I've been there before, I'm known there. That's my home just as much as it's yours."
Nico sits up from the headboard, pushing his iPad even further away as he too grabs a couple of bibs and socks from the pile of clothes. He's silent for a moment and you look over at him to see that he's simply holding a pair of baby socks in his large hands, lips pursed in thought. You know he's picturing the tiny feet that'll wear those socks, thinking about how they kick at his hands when he holds you and talks too loud, when he presses his own stomach into yours so he can kiss you and the butterflies that rush through your body tickle at the baby too. You know he's worried, it's his thing. He's always footed too much responsibility, even when he doesn't have to.
"I know it is," he looks up at you, brown eyes gentle and warm but tinged with fear "and it'll be her home too. But it's not yet, and it definitely won't feel like home when hundreds of blue shirts pack in there tomorrow night. You know how these games are normally baby, and while our fans take care of you, I can't promise anything else for the others."
He folds the socks together, tossing them towards the basket with a half-hearted flick of his hand. You pick the pair up and set them in with the rest, handing him the little tee-shirt in your hands. Jack had gifted it to you a week after you told the team about the pregnancy.
"Don't you think the captain should have his family there?" You prod, softly as you watch his lips twitch into a smile at the shirt. It's got the smallest little Devils logo on the front, a C stamped on the shoulder and when he flips it over to look at the 13 and name on the back you notice the way his bottom lip rattles with emotion.
"We'll get there early and stay in the box the whole time. The other girls will be there, I'll stay towards the back and I won't leave until you or someone from the team comes to get me afterwards." You promise, and while that may sound a little dramatic, you don't mind. In fact nothing sounds better than sitting in those plush chairs watching him play while the caterers bring you food and drinks. The only time you'll have to put your swollen feet to work is to go to the bathroom.
Nico runs his thumb over the white letters spelling out Baby Hischier, and you know he's given in by the slow flutter of his eyelashes as he blinks, the smallest bit of hesitance as he thinks this might be the wrong decision but what the hell?
He folds the shirt, pushing himself up from the mess of sheets and you bite back a grin as he rounds the bed to you. A smile has fought it's way onto his face, crinkling at his eyes and sinking dimples into his cheeks. God you hope the baby has that smile of his.
You reach out for him, hands finding his chest before running up to wrap around his neck. He grips the sides of your belly, drawing you closer to him until your belly button is brushing against his abdomen.
"You don't go anywhere without security," he murmurs, right hand coming up to push a strand of hair away from your face. "no dropping into the store during intermission because you wanted something last minute for the baby. And absolutely no trash talking. These fans are fist happy and I don't need you pissing them off even if you're just defending me."
You can't help but laugh. It wouldn't be the first time you'd passionately defended him in the crowd or taunted a fan after he's scored. He knows you so well. You'd never do that now, you know to keep a low profile but it's sweet that he thinks he needs to remind you.
"I promise baby," you swear, sealing it with a kiss and he cups your face to bring you in even closer. "I just want to be there for you. We want to be there for you."
His inhale is uneven, a small tremor of fear or maybe anxiety or even excitement. Maybe all three but it does nothing to wipe away the smile on his face and so you kiss him again, laughing when you feel little hands and feet nudging against his palm on your stomach. Nico keeps kissing you, trailing his lips over your cheeks and nose as you giggle again, and he presses his hand even further into your stomach.
"Yes," he huffs playfully, looking down at your belly "you girls won, I know. I'll get used to it."
~
You stayed as low-key as possible. Simple all black clothes, casual and comfy shoes, minimal makeup and tucked your hair up into a Devils hat and hair clip. Nico appreciated it, slipping his bracelets onto your wrists before he left and giving you a kiss after he reminded you of the rules and precautions and emergency numbers for people at the arena.
The other girls had been notified of your playoff debut and swore up and down that they'd have your back, just as you'd always had theirs. You rode in the party bus with them, hands over your belly as you laughed and caught up with everyone. You missed them lately, and a part of you was heartbroken that you didn't get the first full playoff experience with them. Even the jackets, which you'd ordered and distributed to everyone, were a jab in your emotional heart because you didn't think to get yourself one. At the time you knew you'd be staying home for the games and it didn't seem worth it. Seeing it hang in your room knowing you'd never wear it would be just awful so you didn't bother.
A part of you now wishes you had, and you could almost cry about it if you weren't so excited for the game. But when the bus rolled up to the arena and the lights came up, your happiness at being back was nothing compared to the wave of emotion that took over when the girls pulled out a giant gift bag.
It was red and sparkly, your name written on the tag in a very familiar font. You pushed aside the black tissue paper, eyes welling with tears as you pulled out the black leather jacket. The name Nico had given you last summer and his number, surrounded by bright flames. You unfolded the jacket, swiping at the tears on your cheeks while the girls laughed and cheered. A white card had fallen into your lap, the message simple and sweet.
Knew you'd need it eventually
You didn't need a signature to know who gifted you this. The writing itself was clear but the special signature on the sleeve topped with a heart instead of a 13, said it all. Nico only signed with a heart when it was addressed to you. From that first receipt at the bar you met at after he bought your drinks, to the flowers he'd had delivered to you a few weeks ago just because, that same signature always topped it off.
That's what comes to mind when he takes the ice, finding his spot on the blue line for the national anthem and you holler with the rest of the fans, tucked into the jacket he got specifically for you. The Rock is electric, every fan on their feet and every towel in the air. You keep up for as long as you possibly can but your feet quickly grow sore and tired, so you settle into a seat with a plate of food. At least until you get too into the game and jump back up to cheer with the rest of the girls.
Intermission is spent taking pictures for Instagram, showing off the jackets once again and thanking the artist. You answer texts from family and friends wishing you and Nico good luck tonight, letting you know they're tuning in to watch. An ice cream helmet and a churro are delivered to you courtesy of the security guard Nico has requested follow you at all times, and you enjoy the snack for the entirety of the second period.
With the Devils up 2-0 you feel pretty good. Nico was right, you didn't know what a playoff crowd was like and while it's overwhelming, it's also heartwarming. You can't help but think of how happy Nico must be, how much he deserves this. He's done his best all season to carry the weight of being captain of a team that's constantly left behind and forgotten. The Devils are always the underdogs, and at the front of the pack is your husband, trying his best to build them up into contenders. His first point of the night is a step in the right direction, and you hope he's pulling himself out of the rut he's been in. Maybe you're just superstitious but you convince yourself it's because you're at the game.
As the minutes tick by, you grow even more happy about attending tonight's game. If you're lucky it'll even relax Nico into letting you attend round 2, and hopefully more rounds after that. But you're getting ahead of yourself.
In fact, you don't really have time to think about the next round at all because the baby's begun kicking around in your belly. At first you're amused, making a mental note to tell Nico that he's going to have a hard time keeping his daughter from the rink. But as the girls take turns feeling her kick, the sudden sharp pain in your spine and release of pressure between your legs makes you freeze.
The game grows forgotten, the food and laughs and pictures given up on. There's nothing else to think about except the fact that you are going into labor and your husband is unattainable on the ice below you.
~
Nico has just stepped down the tunnel when he's stopped by personnel, not even around the corner and to the locker room yet. Someone's holding a phone out to him, urging him to take it and he feels his heart drop to his stomach. Why are they looking at him like that? With those hesitant smiles and nervous eyes. He knows it's about you, it has to be and the fact that you're not down here yet let's him know something's wrong.
He rips off his helmet, holding the phone up to his ear. "Hello?"
"Hi my love!" You greet, a little breathless but cheerful. Nico doesn't care whose phone he's got, he takes it with him towards the locker room. Why are you calling him?
"Hey darling, what are you doing?" He ignores the other boys, sitting down in his locker and untying his skates. You're not giving him any reason to be nervous but he has a feeling he should be. "Are you down here yet?"
He can hear someone else talking with you, their voice muddled through the phone but he imagines it's one of the girls. "No I'm not going down to the locker room." You carefully say "I actually already left the arena."
It's then that he recognizes the sound of a car radio and the rumble of the highway. He can feel the others looking at him, wondering why he's on the phone and already stripping out of his gear instead of celebrating with them.
"What do you mean you left?" He asks, toweling through his sweaty hair. "I told you to come down here."
Someone honks on the other line. "I know I know, but I need you to stay calm when I say this Nico."
He freezes, heart pounding in his chest but trying his best to not let it rattle in his voice. "What happened? Are you ok?"
By now Jack has picked up on the call, slowly inching towards Nico's stall with questioning eyes. "I'm fine. The baby is fine. We had a great time. So much fun that she kinda decided she wanted to watch it in person."
Nico's head spins. "What? What do you mean?"
"My water broke," you say and Nico's tossing the phone to Jack, ripping off his jersey and pads.
"Ask her how long ago." He instructs, and he hears Jack greet you before asking the question. You must talk to him for a bit because he's mouthing things and holding up fingers as you go. Nico continues to tear through his gear, half-heartedly wiping sweat off as he goes so he can get dressed.
"Five minutes left in the third," Jack recites back to him. "She took the bus here with the girls so Clare is driving her and they're about 2 minutes from the hospital."
Nico tugs on a pair of shorts and shoves his feet into the sneakers he left in his locker this morning. "She's asking that you please shower before coming here because she knows you smell awful."
He wants to laugh, knows you’re teasing him to try and calm him down. It doesn't work. All he can think about is how you're in labor, that your water broke and he wasn't there to help you to the car or drive you to the hospital. He throws on a shirt, taking the phone back from Jack.
"Already dressed, I'm not showering." He's shoving things into his duffle, unsure of what he even needs or should take with him. He at least has the right sense to grab deodorant and cologne from his stall.
"Nico it's not that bad yet." You say on the other end of the phone. "Really you have the time to shower and do media-"
"Media?" He interrupts, "You're not fucking serious? I'm going to the hospital so I can be with you, not talking to the press."
He digs his keys and phone out of the side pocket of his bag, tossing it over his shoulder. He's still got the phone to his ear when he turns back to Jack. "You're on media tonight. Don't say a word about this and call me afterwards."
Jack salutes him, eyes shiny and smile wide. It's then that Nico realizes the whole room is watching him excitedly. Biting back a laugh he address you again.
"I'll be there in 5 minutes. Text me if you get into a room ok?"
"Ok Nico."
"I'll see you soon love," he says quietly, wanting to keep the sweet moment between you two. You return the sentiment, wincing slightly afterwards and he knows you're starting to feel those contractions.
"Hey," he calls before you can hang up. "Don't have that baby until I'm there."
"You got it Cap."
He hangs up, not knowing what to do with the random phone he's been given until the employee that handed it to him is shoving into the room. He quickly gives it back, double checking his pockets for everything just as reporters begin to pour into the room.
"Well boys," he finally addresses the team, looking around at their expectant faces. "We fought hard, we came out on top. And we can do it again later but for now..." Jack has found his way to Nico's side, gripping his shoulder and shaking him excitedly. "I gotta go have a baby."
Hoots and hollers bust out, Jack kisses his cheek and shoves him towards the door. He receives more taps and shoves as he goes, everyone wishing him luck as he prepares for the biggest moment of his life.
~
Nico's fully aware that he looks like a mess. Disheveled, sweaty, gnawing at his bottom lip as he rushes into the labor and delivery lobby. A man in scrubs spots him before he can reach the counter, obviously recognizing him.
"Hischier?" He asks anyway and Nico nods, unsure if he answers around the trembles of his breath. "Right this way, don't worry you haven't missed a thing."
That eases him a bit, enough that he's not breathing down the man's back as they disappear down a long hallway, one left turn, two right turns. Nico finds the room number you'd given him earlier immediately, almost shoving the man out of the way to get to the door. He thinks he apologizes or maybe says excuse me but the only thing running through his mind is seeing you, being there with you.
You're pacing the room when he walks in, one hand on your lower back and the other rubbing circles over your belly. Clare is standing by the side of the bed, watching you like a hawk and Nico feels better knowing she was there. His entrance draws your attention from the TV in the corner of the room, eyes meeting his and your face immediately lights up. He moves to you before you can even take a step towards him, hands reaching up to hold your flush face.
"Why are you up? Are you ok?"
He searches your face, looks for hint of agony or worry but only finds your beautiful eyes and swollen lips. You place a hand over his, laughing softly.
"I'm ok. Still dilating but it feels better to walk." You say. "I sit down for big contractions, I promise."
Nico trusts you, backing away to thank Clare for taking care of you while you continue to move about the room. She leaves to go meet Ryan, promising to check in on you in a couple hours before disappearing out of the room. He perches on the end of the bed, watching you on the edge of his seat in case he needs to get up. The TV is showing highlights of the game tonight before cutting to the locker room just in time to see Nico give his goodbye speech to the team.
Eyebrows raised, you look at him expectantly.
"What?" He asks, defensive.
"You most definitely had time to shower." You say, waddling towards him. His hands find your hips, chin tilting up to look at you just in time to see you dramatically scrunch your nose at him.
"Not a good first impression on your daughter Nico, she's going to think you're stinky all the time."
He laughs, reaching up to move a piece of hair that's stuck to the sweat on your neck. "I have clothes in the baby bag, I'll change my love."
The relief he expected to see on your face is instead one of panic. Eyes wide, mouth dropping open and you squeeze his shoulders.
"I forgot the baby bag!" You wail, throwing your head back in frustration. Nico jumps to his feet when your whine turns to a wince, your hand dropping to your stomach. He carefully turns you until you're sitting on the bed instead, one hand crushing his as you breathe through a contraction.
He waits for it to pass before digging his phone out. "It'll be fine, I'll have Jack stop and get it. The car seats already in my car, nursery set up." Nico brushes your hair back in again, inhaling and exhaling calmly with you. "We're ready for this."
You take another deep breath, eyes not leaving his and he's tries his best to look reassuring.
"We're ready," you repeat quietly "we're having a baby and we're ready."
~
Two hours later, after countless swear words over tearful cheeks, your hand squeezing the life out of Nico's, and a little bit of wooziness on his part, Nico's met his daughter.
She's a tiny little thing, only 6 pounds and 9 ounces. Her fingers and toes scrunched, eyes pinched shut under blonde eyebrows but after only a couple cries, she lays on your chest with a smile. And when he leans in to kiss you, blubbering something about how much he loves you and how precious she is, her little nose scrunches in distaste. Maybe he should've showered. It ends up not mattering though because she still recognizes his voice, especially when he says sweet things in German to her, and her little head tilts towards him, hands wiggling around like she's trying to find him.
As soon as she's swaddled he's taking her, cradling her to his chest in the gentlest but safest way he can. Nico's never thought of himself as impossibly strong but she's so light and so small he's afraid of holding her too tight and hurting her.
You watch him fawn over her while you get cleaned up, brushing out your hair and sponging away the sweat and blood and goop. Nico presses his nose to the top of her head, right where little strands of blonde hair have dried, and takes in the smell of her. Her faces scrunches at him again and he wants to go change and wash up so she'll stop looking at him like that but he can't bare to put her down. Even after you've settled back in the bed and the nurses have cleared out, Nico knows you want to hold her but he still takes his sweet time handing her over.
You look so sweet, so motherly when you hold her to your chest and softly stroke over her cheek. His chest alights with warmth, spreading throughout his veins and his eyes sting with happy tears. He wants to remember this forever. He fumbles for his phone, fingers shaky as he snaps a picture of you smiling widely at her. You look up at him, eyes wet with tears but so unfathomably happy and you say, "she has your nose Neeks."
She does, he realizes, taking in the sharpness of it. Your nose doesn't look like that and while his is a bit different after breaking it, hers is so similar to his. And her blonde hair, just like him. Before he'd grown up, he too had pin straight blonde hair. He imagines her with his eyes too, big and brown, seeping off warmth everywhere they look. He thinks she's so beautiful and he hopes she has your smile because that has to be his favorite thing in the world.
Perfect, his baby girl is perfect.
Nico leaves you two alone, fishing out his clothes and the baby wipes from the bag before disappearing into the bathroom. He does his best to wipe down his body with them, wanting to hurry back to his girls but in the end decides he should just rinse off in the shower there. He forgoes the hospital body wash and conditioner, simply washing his matted hair because he wants her to know what he usually smells like, not some cheap unmarked bottle stuff. He should've asked Jack to grab his bathroom stuff but it's too late now.
Toweling off and redressing in sweats and a t-shirt, Nico combs his fingers through his wet hair and let's it air dry. He put on more deodorant, forgetting the cologne because what if she doesn't like it or has some kind of reaction to it? No he'd rather her think he smells bad.
You let him hold her again when he comes back, moving over so he can squish on the bed next to you and this time when he presses her to his chest, she leans into him, lips smacking quietly as she settles in comfortably. He laughs, shaking his head because she's unable to utter a word but he already knows she's got your same little attitude.
"Nurse came by, said the boys are about to break down the doors to get in here." You say quietly. Nico laughs again, decides he should probably go get whoever's gathered out there so he hands her back to you.
"Wait," you stop him before he can get to the door, "hand me the baby bag please."
He fishes it out from the little storage closet, setting it on the end of the bed and helping you dig through it because he knows you're tired and sore. You pull out a little black beanie with a glittery Devils logo on the front, removing the pink one they put on her head and sliding the new one on. Nico tucks everything away again, taking just a second to look at you and her. You beam at him.
"She's very proud of her dad."
Nico kisses you, a real kiss this time instead of those mushy pecks he gave you earlier. Then he presses a flittering kiss to her head, promising to be back soon before he leaves to gather Jack and the others.
The lobby is packed with hockey players, squished onto the couches, hugging their knees on the floor as they chatter quietly. Nico overhears Jack talking about seeing them earlier, poking fun at how nervous Nico looked. He sneaks up behind him, grabs him by the shoulders and Jack jumps, whirling around to look at him. Nico laughs, not even getting a chance to say anything before his friend is jumping at him. He wraps his arms around him, beaming as the others rise to their feet and join in on the hug. They're all shaking him and patting his head.
"How are we feeling captain daddy?" Wood teases, ruffling his hair. Someone pinches his cheek, comments on his puffy eyes and he shrugs it off.
"Feeling like I just had the best night of my life." He admits and they cheer again. Nico gets them all to settle down and split into to two groups. He doesn't want to overwhelm you or the baby and he doubts he can bring in 15 people. The first group calmly follows him through the hall and to the room, all of them growing quite as they lightly tread into the room in a line.
You smile at everyone as they come in, the baby still cradled to your chest and Jesper is the first to tip toe over, a bouquet of balloons and a teddy bear in his hand. He sets them on the tray next to you, looking at Nico nervously.
"You can say hi," Nico chuckles and you motion Jesper closer, instructing him on how to cradle her. She barely fusses as he holds her, eyes widening and he smiles giddily at Nico. Seeing her in his arms draws the others closer and they set up a stack of cards next to the balloons, Timo settling in the chair next to you and asking about how you're doing. Jesper slowly walks down the line, letting everyone look at her.
Dawson gets a glimpse at her before his head shoots up to look at Nico. "She looks just like you!" He exclaims, loud enough that the baby stirs in Jesper's arm and he freezes. Nico laughs, walks over and reaches in to smooth his thumb over her scrunched nose. She settles back down, but Jesper's freaked enough that he eagerly hands her off to a wide eyed Jack.
"Poor kid," Jack teases, "hopefully she gets her mom's personality or she's screwed." But tears have welled in his eyes and he's staring at her so enthralled that Nico knows Jack already loves her. In fact, they're all looking at her like she's made of precious gems.
Trusting them to be careful, Nico takes Timo's seat next to you. You reach out for his hand and he holds yours between both of his, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.
"You've got a good group there Captain," you say, looking over as Jack shows Woodsy how to hold her head. He grins, unbelievably happy and content in the moment. He hasn't even had a chance to think about the fact that he's moving on to the next round of the playoffs yet. But all that matters right now is his family. He can think about the game later.
"She's already got them whipped into shape." He murmurs, laughing when Woodsy moves a little too fast and she gurgles unhappily, halting him. Dougie scolds him, taking her from his arms with a disappointed shake of his head.
Jack comes over, squishes himself into the chair with Nico even though it means he's sitting half on his lap. You laugh when he wiggles his hand in alongside Nico's, fingers holding both of yours.
"Congrats mom and dad," Jack says, "I've been waiting for a baby sister. All I got was Luke."
"Where is Luke?"
He snickers. "I left him at home."
You gasp but laugh, releasing their hands to shove him. Nico shakes his head, knowing he's going to have to text the younger Hughes brother and let him know he can stop by whenever he wants.
Timo's the last to meet her, blowing little kisses at her and smiling. "Hey little captain," he whispers, just loud enough for Nico to hear. "hope you like it here because you just got stuck with the whole team."
You and Nico look around, notice that everyone is still squished around Timo watching her. They're like moths to a flame following her, inching closer to the bed when Timo hands her to Nico. Jack moves over, perches by your feet so Nico has room to hold her and be close to you.
"You didn't tell us her name," Dougie says, looking between you and Nico. The two of you had been stuck between two different names but now that she's here the decision is clear. Nico was hesitant of it at first, thought it'd be too cliche or something but she's decided for herself.
"It's Jersey," you say with an amused smile. What other name could you give the baby that had done summersaults in your belly during games and decided she wanted to join the world during her father's game and has the whole team smitten with her.
"Jersey Leeds Hischier." Nico adds and the boys all soak it in, tease him a bit for being so sentimental but he doesn't care. This is his home, it's given him everything, and no matter what happens next round or next year or in ten years from now, he wants to remember everything Jersey has given him.
#nico hischier#nico hischier x reader#nico hischier fic#new jersey devils#new jersey devils fic#nhl fanfiction
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Hii can I please have a scene with Arthur Morgan and his fem s/o in an alternate universe where Arthur never got TB and he is happily married living with his wife on a cosy farm similar to the marstons. They have just had a newborn daughter and she is only a few days old and Arthur sees his wife picking up their newborn, still in shock from giving birth just days prior. She is cuddling and sweet talking her baby, gently kissing her head and loving her. She coos and gently but sweetly whispers good morning to her baby girl. I just want Arthur’s reaction to this and how he reacts to all the fluff plus him being a new father. Can you please end it with fem reader putting their child back in the crib and making their way to the living room, relaxing on the sofa together and talking about how they should visit the marstons soon. Thank you 💞💞💞💞💞💞
The Life a Good Man Deserves
Has it really been only a week since I watched her walk along the tree line of the forest near our home, soaking in the sun, glowing like a god damn angel? She was pregnant as could be, but she wanted to take one last walk before we took our first walk with our baby girl.
And a few days later, she was here. God was it hard, watchin' my wife hurt like that. Her screams and all the blood... it left me shakin' like a leaf. I've never felt so scared in my life I don't think. We didn't have a doctor or a nurse or anythin', but we had Charles and a forest only a few yards away. Thank whatever lord there was above that he had stopped by that morning, and right as he was about to leave I heard my wife screamin' for me from our bedroom. We both came running, and that was the start of the longest night of my life.
Charles made a million different remedies on the stove of our kitchen. For pain, for infection, any complications my wife or our little girl could have after birth. All the while I was holding my wife's hand as she brought our baby-girl into the world, how crazy life is sometimes.
We named her 'Briar-Rose.' Right after she was born, my wife looked out the window and saw the ones we had planted had finally bloomed. We'd have horrible luck with them before, so it seemed perfect.
I ought to go find them now, instead of just sittin' her day dreaming about the family that I finally have. God, I love them so much.
• • • • • • •
Arthur set his leather journal down on his bedside table, the matching ones he made for the two of you for your first anniversary you spent together in your home. The one he had built for you, with the help of Charles and John. Oh and little Jack of course, he did so much!
Arthur got up and slipped on a pair of worn old jeans and his favorite blue button up shirt. How it had survived all these years, he didn't know.
How he had survived all these years, he didn't know either.
Arthur quietly made his way to the nursery. It was right next to the bedroom the two of you shared, and the door was cracked open. There was no other place you could be. Arthur was about to walk in, but he stopped when he heard you talking to your daughter. He watched through the crack of the door, completely mesmerized.
Your hair was in a messy braid down your back, and you wore a long flowing white nightgown. It was long sleeved, and the strings around your bosom area were tied into a pretty bow. The sleeves, which had forever been too long for your arms but you refused to mend time, rested around your whole hand, only leaving your fingers sticking out. Arthur could see them sticking out under your coat and laughed to himself. He loved these little things about you, and he had them all written down in his journal.
Your coat, which was actually the brown plaid one that belonged to Abigail, also hung loosely around you with your nightgown. He smiled as he remembered both you and Abigail trading your favorite coats. John and Arthur had both been talking and they decided it was time to leave the gang, it wasn't an easy decision but a necessary one. You and Abigail were two peas in a pod, like sisters almost. You had both decided you needed to do something to always stay together now that you wouldn't be able to see each other everyday.
A small cry from your daughter pulled him from his thoughts.
"Oh my sweet girl, shh shh." You cooed softly, you picked up your daughter from her crib and cradled her in your arms. Holding her close and tight. You pressed a gentle kiss on your daughters head, and she calmed. You rocked her back and fourth and started talking to her.
"How'd my baby sleep? Did you sleep well?" You asked, your tone so gentle and full of love Arthur thought he could cry. You were the perfect mother. "I love you, so much my sweet girl. Your so beautiful. You've got your daddy in you, those stunning blue eyes and that hair of yours. I can't wait to watch you grow up."
Arthur couldn't take it, tears fell freely from his eyes and he opened the door of his daughters room and actually ran to you. He held you close to him, careful to not hurt your stomach.
"Oh Arthur, are you alright?" You said with a light laugh, though your voice was laced with concern.
"Honey, I have never been more alright in my life." He said shakily. His quiet voice held so much emotion it broke your heart.
When Arthur first found out you were pregnant, he was angry. Not at you, and certainly not at your unborn child. He was angry at himself, how could he be so stupid? Getting another woman pregnant, while still being in the gang? Which was definitely going to shit, by the way. Arthur could feel it happening. His heart actually hurt when he thought about Eliza and Issac, how his stupidity had gotten them killed. His little boy, and the woman he never married but god damn he should've, both dead over 10 dollars. 10. Fucking. Dollars. If he had been there, those bastards would've been dead in a second! He was a gunslinger for fucks sake! He could've saved them if he had just done right. But he was so scared to be a father, especially to a son. He didn't want to turn into his own father. He wouldn't wish that on anyone. But once a certain Karen Jones dragged him by the ear to the hiding spot you had found to cry in telling him to "fix it" he knew what he had to do. And it wasn't easy.
He held you in his arms, and apologized for every second he made you think or feel like he didn't want you or the child growing inside you. He said he had a plan, and it was the first time since joining the gang that you were relieved to hear those words.
"Arthur?"
Your voice pulled him from his thoughts. Arthur pulled away from you so he could get a better look
"Would you like to hold your daughter Mr. Morgan?" You asked with a smile just as sweet as your southern drawl.
"Yes I would, Mrs. Morgan." He said with a smile, quickly wiping the tears from his eyes. He ever so carefully took his daughter into his arms. She fussed for a moment, before quickly settling back down again.
"I can't believe I'm a daddy..." Arthur said softly. "Look at my sweet girl... Both of my sweet girls."
You stood on your tip toes and kissed Arthur on the cheek, and you bent back down to kiss your daughter. You winced straightening back up.
"Sit down, please honey." Arthur said gently. "You just had a baby after all."
"'M fine sweetheart." You dismissed. "I need to get the best view possible of this.."
A sudden sharp cry erupted from your daughter, causing both you and Arthur to laugh.
"Still a view I want to see." You said with a smile. Arthur passed Briar off to you, and she quieted down a bit.
"Ain't nothin' like the touch of a mother." Arthur said softly, gently wrapping his arms around your stomach. With your body flush against his, he rested his chin on top of your head. You chuckled.
"You should sing her a lullaby. Arthur suggested. You chuckled, knowing he'd use any excuse to hear you sing. You took a breathe, and began a gentle lullaby:
Down in the valley, valley so low Hang your head over, hear the wind blow Hear the wind blow, dear, hear the wind blow Hang your head over, hear the wind blow.
Roses love sunshine, violets love dew Angels in heaven know I love you Know I love you, dear, know I love you Angels in heaven, know I love you.
Writing this letter, containing three lines Answer my question, "Will you be mine?" "Will you be mine, dear, will you be mine?" Answer my question, "Will you be mine?"
Down in the valley, valley so low Hang your head over, hear the wind blow Hear the wind blow, dear, hear the wind blow Hang your head over, hear the wind blow.
You finished the song, and were now left with a sleeping daughter and a husband who was weeping. The sight of it brought tears to your own eyes.
"I just watched my wife sing my daughter to sleep for the first time.." Arthur wept. "Look at me, I'm a god damn mess. God I love you so much, I love her so much- (Name), this is real. This is our life."
"I can't belive it either!" You said with a sniffle. "Let me put her in her cradle before we wake her up."
Arthur nodded, sneaking a quick kiss to your forehead before heading to the door. Arthur was about to leave, but something told him to stay a moment longer. He turned just in time to see you tenderly set your daughter down in her crib and cover her up with her blanket which you had sewn by hand for her. You kissed your daughter one last time before joining Arthur.
As soon as you were in arms reach, Arthur scooped you up and carried you bridal style right into the living room. You giggled like some lovesick schoolgirl, causing Arthur to giggle too.
"Nothin but laughter and tears of joy in this house." You said happily. "That's exactly how I wanna be livin'!"
"Me too darlin!" Arthur said, gently setting you down on the sofa. He sat down right next to you and opened his arms, which you gladly crawled into. With your head resting in the crook of his neck and your legs curled up in his lap, you felt so safe. And so loved, you swore Arthur Morgan was sent from the lord above just for you.
"When do you think you'll be up for a trip to go see Abigail?" Arthur said, a sly smile on his face.
You gasped in excitment. "Oh goodness, is the house done already!? Did John invite you?"
"Yes ma'am! And guess what else darlin'?" Arthur said with a laugh. Your excitement was contagious, anyone could agree to that. "They made us a nursery for Briar-Rose."
Your eyes welled up with tears and you covered your mouth with your hand.
"Your kiddin' me..." You said softly, a smile slowly forming on your face.
"They really did honey." Arthur said and smiled softly at you. "Abigail wrote to me. I got the letter the night I went to town right before you had Briar. Said the house is done and we need to come visit as soon as you feel up to it after you have the baby."
"I don't know how soon, but I can't wait to go! Oh Arthur I miss her so much.." You said sadly. "I'm gonna write her back! We'll plan a visit next month...." You said, but your words trailed off into a yawn.
"Sounds good t'me baby." Arthur said, his hand natrually finding your hair to begin running his fingers through it. It put you to sleep faster then you'd like to admit.
Arthur let out a content sigh. He had never dared even daydream of a life like this for too long, yet here he was. Actually living the life of his dreams. With his wife, daughter, and even his 'brother'.
He wouldn't have it any other way.
authors note: I HOPE YOU ENJOYED CAUSE I LITERALLY HAD THE BEST TIME WRITING THISSS Xx
#x reader#arthur morgan x reader#rdr2 arthur#red dead redemption 2#red dead fanfiction#arthur morgan x you#arthur morgan is a sweetheart#arthur morgan fluff#dad arthur morgan#arthur morgan as a father#rdr2#arthur morgan rdr2#arthur morgan#tooth rotting fluff#thanks for the submission!#reader is an amazing mother#arthur is an amazing father#briar rose morgan
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Everybody sit down and strap in, 'cause I have a doozy of a tale to share.
I've had anxiety for literally as long as I can remember. I've had periods of my life where it was so intense it became legitimately life-threatening (don't worry I promise this is going somewhere funny). And this was really bizarre because I have zero childhood trauma. Like, my family life is so idyllic it's almost comical. Therapists would do abuse screenings on me and look utterly baffled when I told them everything was fine at home. They'd interrogate my parents just to make sure I wasn't lying. I have one friend who I'm fairly sure believed I was just severely gaslighting myself when I said my family was great, school wasn't too stressful, and I've never lived in a dangerous neighborhood or experienced poverty.
Anyways, despite no one being able to figure out where my disorder was coming from, my doctors were able to help me manage the symptoms so that I would like, not die, and actually be able to finish high school. Which was awesome. Now fast forward to late 2021. My big sister (who has also had intense anxiety her whole life which no one could figure out why) is finishing up her doctorate and getting her physical therapist's license. Somehow, during all her studying and schooling, she finds out about this thing called Ehlers Danlos Syndrome, which explains literally everything that was going on with us. EDS is a connective tissue disorder that kinda fudges up your body in a whole bunch of little ways, including dysautonomia (episodes of very fast heart-rate that kick your body into fight-or-flight mode), and hypermobility (unusual flexibility). It's a spectrum disorder, so the severity of symptoms vary from person to person, but we definitely checked almost every box on the diagnostic list. My sister went to see a specialist, and yep, she was diagnosed EDS positive. She immediately calls my mom and goes "I know what's wrong with Niki" (thanks, sis, that's real encouraging lol). Initially we're like "okay Katie, that's nice" because honestly this kind of sounds like jumping at shadows, but I go in to see the specialist anyways just to make sure.
One consultation and diagnosis later, and suddenly my entire life makes perfect sense.
Now we get to the funny part. See, the diagnosis stuff happened in early 2022. So by the time late 2023 comes around and we're looking for a new dog (I promise this is relevant), we've been riding that chronic illness diagnosis for a while. Once again, my sister, ever the proactive one, decides she's going to help us get a new dog. She scours the adoption website, sends us photos of the cutest dogs available, and helps us make a decision. This is how we got Beverly, who has been an unstoppable force of chaos in our lives ever since we signed the papers (but she's also really cute so she can get away with it). Now on top of being a very excitable and anxious pupper, Beverly's got a weird little gimp in her hindquarters, which makes her sit all splayed-out and funny-looking, and while it doesn't seem to be causing her pain, we take her to a vet to get it checked out. Vet finds absolutely nothing. X-rays are taken and examined. Still nothing. At this point, they go "well, we could try a CT scan of her brain, which would run about $5,000, and maybe we could find something--" but my parents are already packing this dog into the car like "well that is a HARD nope." So we decide, look, Beverly seems happy and healthy, and those gimpy legs don't seem to bother her, so we'll just leave it be until it becomes clearer what's wrong with her because we do NOT have a cool $5,000 to throw around here.
Readers more astute than my family and I will likely have already figured out where this is going.
This morning, my mom is looking at Beverly sitting in her funny sprawled-out way, and something in her brain goes "wait...weird physical symptoms with no tracible cause that vets can see..." She does a bit of googling. Can dogs have EDS/Hypermobility? Yes. Yes they can. And the listed symptoms describe Beverly to a T.
So not only is my sister the one to finally figure out what's wrong with me, she also unknowingly got us a dog who has the exact same chronic condition as us. Meanwhile my poor dad, who is the only Normal Person in our house, is coming to terms with the fact that he is apparently just fated to always love chronically ill people and animals, and there's absolutely nothing he can do about it.
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