#and i could afford medical stuff if needed

[artisanalpeanutbutter]

If I won the turbo super duper lottery, I'd put away 10 million, pay off my student loans, calculate how much it would take to mortgage a house in a decent area, put that aside, then put the rest in an account that I would use to pay for various funds (i.e. funeral, bail, disaster, etc.)

[itsalwaysdark]

anyways sry its not srs eventually ill get it together . and be a person again. one day

[ask-mrxmts]

//uhHh gunna go on a small hiatus due to not having internet+other (ill expln in the tags c/tw vent/rambling)

[smolmagicalmuffin]

First its a pain in the ass for me to get my HRT refilled, now I'm losing my loophole thc. Can't win in this state huh?

[megalony]

Danger Zone

This is a new Buddie imagine I had an idea for, I hope you will all like it. Please let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana

@shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @ml572 @jessie-lynn28 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700

@ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @itshamleth @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii

Buddie Masterlist

Part 2

Summary: When Captain Gerrard takes charge of the 118, he targets each of the team. Specifically (Y/n), because she's pregnant. And his actions put her at risk.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tossing the clipboard down on the gurney, (Y/n) twisted on her heels and unlocked the medicine cabinet in the corner of the ambulance near the emergency door. Her fingertips grazed along each glass bottle, counting each one in every row and checking the labels to make sure they were in date.

Once they were all accounted for, she ticked them off on the check sheet and turned around.

That was the ambulance restocked and ready to go again. Not that it needed checking and restocking today after Evan had already done it yesterday, but (Y/n) needed to keep busy.

She had been told to 'make herself useful' and she knew what that meant. If Gerrard caught her doing nothing, even if she was just taking a break, he would have her for it. And (Y/n) couldn't be dealing with his fluctuating temper. She would rather appease him and keep him at bay than give him any reason to single her out.

"Diaz, you've shrunk."

A jolt ran through (Y/n)'s chest and her heart shuddered like a bird in a cage. She pinned the clipboard against her stomach and took a deep breath, glaring down at Hen who was leant up against the back door with her arms folded over her chest and a smirk playing on her lips.

"Pardon?" She raised a brow and looked down at Hen, waiting for the punchline of her joke.

For a dreaded moment when she heard her voice, (Y/n) thought it was Gerrard come to antagonise her for something.

"Your shirt says Diaz." Her shoulder slumped against the door a little more so she could cross one leg over the other while she pointed at the shirt (Y/n) was wearing. Not all of their uniforms had their names on the back, but some of them did. And right now, (Y/n) was wearing a shirt that said Diaz on the back, and that wasn't her name. Not yet, anyway.

"My stuff doesn't fit me anymore." (Y/n) tilted her head down, trying to hide the smile that was desperate to spread across her lips. She couldn't afford to be smiling and looking cheesy in case their Captain happened to pass by.

She set the clipboard down on the gurney and moved her hand to indicate her stomach. Not a lot of her clothing fit now she had a baby bump in the way.

The first few months had been fine, (Y/n) only had to disclose the pregnancy to Bobby- while he had been in charge of the station. No one else knew until she started to hang back on the larger calls and Bobby started giving her different orders like telling her to hang back at the truck or go and assist as a medic. Then when her stomach started to go round, it was an easy giveaway.

Being four and then five months pregnant was okay, (Y/n) had still managed to fit into her work clothes no problem. But now, being just over six months, (Y/n) couldn't stretch her shirts anymore without ripping them. They wouldn't go over her bump or tuck into her trousers anymore, and she'd had to go up a size or two in trousers so the buttons actually did up.

It was a change that both Eddie and Evan loved, but one that made (Y/n) self-conscious around their new Captain.

Gerrard liked to single (Y/n) out. He made jibes because she was pregnant, he tried to test her and see how far he could push her on the job.

All of them thought he would treat (Y/n) the way he treat Chimney when he first joined the station. They thought he would confine her to the station and change her job role to cleaner, she had been prepared to be stuck inside, mopping the floors, cleaning out the trucks and restocking the cupboards.

No one had expected him to keep (Y/n) on all of their callouts. He barely played things by the book, he got her on every call out and got her handling equipment and the truck or the ambulance. Gerrard kept things just on the line of the rules so he couldn't be reprimanded, he pushed (Y/n) as far as he could because he knew she wouldn't back down.

(Y/n) couldn't say no and have him call her weak or tell her she should be on maternity leave if she 'wasn't going to do any work around here'.

"No kidding," Hen muttered with a smile that made (Y/n) feel at ease.

She grabbed the door and carefully climbed down so she could follow Hen across the station floor, unsure where they were actually going. There hadn't been a callout in almost two hours, which left everyone pondering around, wondering what they were supposed to do with themselves.

(Y/n) had started to feel useless at the station while Bobby was in charge because he didn't let her assist on a lot of calls, for safety. But now with Gerrard here, (Y/n) felt like she was at her wits end, she was wearing herself thin and it was draining the patience both Evan and Eddie had.

Both men could see the toll the job was taking on (Y/n) and they were starting to worry about her.

"So, how's you and the little guy doing?" Hen aimed towards the stairs and when she pointed to the kitchen, (Y/n) nodded. It was almost lunchtime and there was nothing else for them to be doing. While they had the time, they may as well see if they could get something to eat with the team before the bell sounded and they were all off again.

(Y/n) moved her hand down to her stomach, rubbing circles over her shirt as she smiled softly. "We're good, I think he's asleep right now. We've got another scan next week."

"Hm, I think Buck may have mentioned that once or twice." Hen bit back a laugh when (Y/n) rolled her eyes.

Evan told everyone whenever they were going for a scan. He and Eddie both tried to be there for all of (Y/n)'s appointments if they could and of course, he told people when they were going for one. He was always telling Maddie first though because she loved to see and have a copy of the scan photos.

He took pleasure in telling his parents just to see the way his mother looked drastically ill at the thought of her first grandchild having three parents rather than the conventional mum and dad.

Eddie's parents were still taking time to adjust to Eddie's relationship, but they couldn't be as cold or uncaring as they first felt because they both had a soft spot for Evan and (Y/n). And they knew that Eddie and Chris were happier than they had ever been so it was hard to dispute.

(Y/n) aimed for the table and took her usual seat while Hen went to grab a drink from the fridge. Both of them clocked Evan in the kitchen, moving from one counter to the next, first with a dish in his hand, and then with a wooden spoon, and then with a tea towel tossed over his shoulder.

Without Bobby here, Evan had silently taken over with the cooking. It just seemed to make sense. He loved cooking, it was something he enjoyed and took his mind off of the crude, callous Captain they now found themselves with. And everyone loved his cooking. They all let him get on with it. The only person who was grumpy about Evan's food was Gerrard because he couldn't find anything wrong with it no matter how hard he tried.

"Hey mi amor,"

A grin spread across (Y/n)'s lips and she tilted her head back, slouching down in her seat when she felt a familiar pair of hands on her shoulders.

"Hi." She reached up to give Eddie's hand a squeeze and her chest fluttered when he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her temple.

Clearly Gerrard wasn't around if Eddie was dolling out the affection. The three of them had to be careful when they were on shift together. If he caught them so much as standing too close to one another he either made a snide joke or tried to reprimand them and pull them up on being professional while on shift.

But when he wasn't around, kisses were shared in quiet corners and touches were shared behind closed doors.

The only times Gerrard couldn't say anything was when they sat together at lunch or in the fire truck. He couldn't say anything about proximity when they were all sat next to one another, on their best behaviour about being professional. And they took full advantage. In the back of the truck while Gerrard sat up front, he couldn't see or say anything about Eddie's hand wandering up and down Evan's thigh or Evan's hand on (Y/n)'s stomach or his lips against her temple.

Eddie took a quick glance towards the stairs before moving his lips further south and capturing (Y/n) in a quick kiss. He savoured the touch and relished in the feeling of her hand slithering up to cup his neck.

But his lips crinkled and his nose twitched when he swiped his tongue across her lips and was met with a familiar tang. Blood.

Eddie's eyes snapped open and he pulled back just enough so his lips were hovering an inch above hers so their breaths mingled together. His brows knitted together and his chest tightened when he saw the dark rouge colour running down her nose and across her lip.

"Mi amor, head forward for me." He gently gripped (Y/n)'s chin and tugged her head down, causing her to sit up straight and lean over when she realised what was happening. "Buck, paper towel please." Eddie clicked his fingers in Evan's direction until their partner looked their way.

A quiet "Shit," passed Evan's lips and he spun around, grabbing a wad of paper towels from the side before he headed over to the pair of them.

(Y/n) pressed her hands down on the tabletop, feeling Eddie's chest pressing down against her shoulders and his chin hovered near her neck so he could look over her shoulder. His hand stayed cupping her chin and he gratefully took the paper towels from Evan and held them against (Y/n)'s nose.

Nosebleeds had been (Y/n)'s enemy since she got pregnant, she seemed to have them frequently now, but they didn't last long.

The worst one she had was last month during the night. Evan woke up with (Y/n)'s head on his chest and a river of blood running across his skin. He thought for a dreaded minute that he was having some kind of accident like he was waking up from anaesthetic in the middle of an operation.

A headache started to roll in behind (Y/n)'s eyes and she swallowed down a groan, closing her eyes as she concentrated on breathing through her mouth. She kept her head tilted forward like she was going to headbutt the table. At least this one didn't feel heavy, she wasn't coughing blood everywhere like she had last time.

"Let's have a look, sweetheart." Evan slumped down into the seat next to (Y/n) and took the wad of tissue from Eddie's hand, dumping the bloodied tissue on the table.

He gently held (Y/n)'s chin and lifted her head up, a smile fluttering across his lips when he saw that the bleeding seemed to have stopped now.

"You good?"

"Yeah, sorry." She grabbed another paper towel and swiped it across her lips, trying to make sure all traces of burnt orange were clean from her face. The last thing she needed was a certain someone making a comment or telling her to go clean herself up.

Eddie kissed her hair and rubbed his hands up and down her arms but when he heard those thunderous boots hitting the stairs, he audibly growled. Just what they needed, Gerrard coming to make a scene.

"Buck, is this done?" Hen motioned to the tray of piping hot lasagne in front of her, both because she was hungry and to get Evan back to his cooking station. They didn't need to have another argument break out, they all argued almost every shift with Gerrard and it was doing them no good.

With pursed lips, Evan tried to smile. He gave (Y/n)'s chin a light squeeze and tilted her head in his direction so he could have a kiss. His fingers brushed across her cheek and when he pushed up, he paused midway to let Eddie lean over and snatch a kiss as well. He darted back to the kitchen just as Gerrard stomped up the stairs, his usual unimpressed look painted over his face.

His eyes set on Eddie immediately and he rose a brow, clearly disgruntled to see Eddie standing so close to one of his partners.

Gerrard didn't like different. He didn't like anything that challenged or differed from the old ways, the generic and safe boundaries of society. He didn't like Chimney for racial reasons. He didn't like Hen for homophobic reasons. He had a grudge against Evan for being in a poly relationship and finding out he wasn't part of the 'white boy' gang Gerrard used to have when he first came to the station ten years ago.

He didn't like Eddie both for his poly relationship and because of his heritage. He wasn't a fan of him being with two people, one of them being a man also hit like a bullet.

For the same reason, he didn't like (Y/n) for her relationship, for being a woman, and he liked to think of her as weak now she was pregnant.

They all had targets on their backs, but the three of them had bigger markers for Gerrard. He liked to rile them up and see how far he could go, he had more reasons to go against the three of them and being in charge of them gave him a power trip.

For once, Eddie didn't make a move to sit down. They had all agreed to stand up to Gerrard by catching him out. Whenever he made comments, they noted it down and sent a report. When he treated them unfairly, they documented it and then sent a copy to the chief. If he tried to be out of line with them, everyone made sure to drag the conversation somewhere public. As long as they had at least one witness, Gerrard had to watch what he said.

But Eddie wasn't in the mood to play nice right now. His hand stayed on (Y/n)'s shoulder and he stayed standing behind her chair with one leg crossed over the other and his other hand on his hip.

"Diaz," Gerrard nodded at him but when he went to approach the kitchen, presumably to try and take a jibe at Evan, he paused. His head turned to the left and he locked eyes on (Y/n), taking note of the paper towel in her hand and the scrunched up, bloodied pile on the table. "Jesus, not another one, or has there been a disagreement I didn't know about?"

He took a quick look around as if expecting to find someone with bloodied knuckles, indicating a fight had taken place. The quirked smile on his lips made Eddie shiver and had him ready to start a disagreement right here and now.

Before anyone could comment, the alarm bell sounded and dispatch came through the tanoid speakers.

Right when they were going to sit down to eat.

A chorus of groans sounded throughout the kitchen as everyone put down whatever they were doing and listened to the announcement to see what kind of call they were going on.

"Okay, you all know what to do, don't you?" Gerrard pointed his thumb over his shoulder and took a step back to watch them filter towards the stairs. He paid particular attention to Evan who frowned and planted both hands down on the counter while he listened to the dispatch describing the call.

"Uh, that's a high code building fire."

"Yes Buckley, it is." The sarcasm dripped from Gerrard's voice and he moved his hand, motioning for Evan to leave the kitchen and aim for the stairs. His tone caused Evan to roll his eyes and hunch up his shoulders, trying to draw in a deep breath to control himself.

"So (Y/n) shouldn't be going on this call." They all knew the rules. (Y/n) was on light duties. She couldn't go into a fire, not even if she was suited up and with her team. She couldn't assist on fires, on multi-car pile ups or any calls where there was a dispute with weapons involved.

She was a spare set of hands only. She helped as a medic or to get equipment set up or to direct people on scene. (Y/n) was effectively a shadow on a lot of calls but it was to keep her safe. She would be on maternity leave next month because after seven months it would be too dangerous to go on any call outs.

They had everything agreed and in place with Bobby. Why did Gerrard have to turn up and tip the scales?

(Y/n) took a deep breath and snook a glance up at Eddie behind her when his hand tightened on her shoulder. She didn't want to be an issue or cause problems. If Gerrard wanted her on this call she was happy to go, she would only be sorting the equipment and the hose and looking after the casualties anyway, she wouldn't be suiting up for the fire.

She pushed up from her seat, scrunching up the used tissues to throw in the bin. The moment Eddie's touch left her body, (Y/n) felt bare and unprotected and it made her conceal a shiver.

Passing Gerrard made her feel worse. She could feel his eyes scoping her up and down with a raised brow. His nose crinkled and his upper lip curled in distaste as he looked at her like she was a nuisance he didn't want around.

"Are you in charge now, Buckley?" When Evan didn't answer, Gerrard looked at (Y/n). "You're part of this team, that means you pull your weight. You can handle doing your job, can't you?"

Something snappy and sarcastic was on the tip of (Y/n)'s tongue, but she pushed it away like a foul taste in her mouth and settled for nodding her head, muttering a quiet "Of course," under her breath.

"See."

"Isn't it your job to oversee everyone's safety? She's on light duties-"

"She can do the job as background support. I oversee the smooth running of this place and I make sure my team pull their weight. If she doesn't mess up, she won't be in danger, will she?"

(Y/n) shuddered when Eddie kicked the chair under the table so harshly all four table legs scraped against the floor. She felt his hands on her waist and she forced her feet to move, hoping Eddie would follow after her and not stop to start a fight. They all needed to go get ready before one of them said something that would get them disciplined or suspended.

They could hear Evan throwing the tea towel across the counter and huffing as he made quick work of following after them.

They didn't give a damn about Gerrard or his orders. If he wanted the team to work, they would all continue to look out for each other. If (Y/n) couldn't do something, the boys would do it for her. They would 'pull her weight' in the team as it were and shield her behind them. They would do the job for her so Gerrard had no means to pick on her.

***

"I can't go in there." (Y/n) could feel the palm of her hands beginning to sweat as she looked up at her Captain who she had a growing distain for.

She didn't like standing up to him. She preferred the boys or Hen to point out when Gerrard was wrong and tell him the codes of conduct to prove that his actions weren't justified. They usually left that to Evan, his ADHD gave him a good memory for facts and visuals and he had all but memorised the handbook. He could pull out any rule, section or code to call Gerrard up on.

And right now, (Y/n) couldn't remember the specific codes, but she knew Gerrard was trying to break them.

"I'm telling you to suit up and get your ass into gear, (Y/l/n) we need to get this fire under control-"

"I can't go in there and if you order me to you're making me a liability on the team. Please." Her head started to shake and her hands ran up and down her overalls.

She was going to be sick. Her head was pounding. She was going to have another nosebleed.

If (Y/n) went into that building she was putting herself and her unborn baby at risk and she would become a liability because if she fell or tripped or went dizzy she would waste precious time. The team might have to spend more resources and effort to find her and help her out and she would become one of their casualties rather than one of the team.

(Y/n) wasn't supposed to be here, she shouldn't be on site of this building fire, it was a risky call and Bobby would have made her hang back at the station if he were in charge. Hen would of made the same call too. Gerrard was taking his leadership too far and breaking the boundaries.

She could see the rage bubbling up inside his eyes and his hands clenched into fists and for a moment, (Y/n) wondered if he was going to step forward and hit her. But then his finger pointed between her and the truck and his curved nose crinkled and twitched like a rabbit.

"You being on this team is a liability in itself." His words made her shoulders quake and she coiled in on herself, holding back tears. "Now suit up. If you won't go in the building, then you can man the hose from the doorway and get this fucking thing under control, or I will reprimand you. Understood?"

Her legs started to shake as she spun on her heels and stormed towards the truck.

Everything was shaking. Her heart was hammering against her chest. The baby was twisting and threatening to make her sick. Her fingertips turned numb and she could barely feel her hands when she reached out for her helmet and shrugged on her jacket.

Putting on her gloves made her hands feel like blocks of ice, unable to bend or move the way she wanted them to.

(Y/n) swallowed a few times to try and calm herself down and make sure she didn't throw up. That was the last thing she needed right now. She looped the hose over her shoulder and trudged towards the building.

Chimney and Eddie had gone up on the ladder to evacuate the top floor and put out the separate fires up there. Hen and Evan were inside the building with most of the 138 team to get it under control. (Y/n) was supposed to be on standby, getting things off the truck and helping as a relief medic when the patients started to filter out.

She wasn't supposed to be anywhere near the building itself. This was dangerous, but as long as she wasn't going inside, (Y/n) would do what she could to help. She never worried about feeling useless on the job until Gerrard came in charge.

"Hose!"

She motioned the hose on her shoulder when she saw Hen hurrying out the doors, presumably for more resources like this.

A deep frown set into Hen's features when she saw how close (Y/n) was and (Y/n) realised it looked a lot like she was about to rush into the burning building as back up. That wasn't what she was doing. She wouldn't put herself and her baby at risk like that.

"What are you d-"

Whatever Hen tried to say drowned out when a blast shocked the foundations of the building. All the windows on the first floor burst. Gusts of air and billowing motions of smoke soured through the windows and out into the open air.

The surge and the backlash knocked everyone within a ten foot radius off their feet, including the girls.

(Y/n)'s eyes snapped closed and her hands tightened around the hose as if it would somehow work as a harness or a rope to hold her up and prevent a harsh fall. It didn't. The blast sent her backwards and took her feet from beneath her. She went down on the pavement with a thud and she was relieved she had her helmet on or the force would have knocked her out.

All the oxygen escaped her lungs and (Y/n) laid on her back, jaw hung down, lips murmuring as she tried to suck in a proper breath and get her chest working again.

"(Y/n)? (Y/n)… you with me?"

She felt Hen kneeling beside her and it made (Y/n) wonder how long she had been laid there, gasping for air. Her eyes opened with some force and she blinked through the smoke that made it look like midnight rather than midday.

Hen's worried expression came into view and (Y/n) managed to nod and wrap her hands around Hen's arm that was stretched out in front of her. She let her friend reel her up into a sitting position and she took a minute to shake her head and gather her senses.

Just a little fall. A relatively small blast considering the structure was still standing and the building foundations hadn't been wrecked. (Y/n) hadn't even broken a bone.

When Evan got hit by lightning, the force had been so great that (Y/n) fell backwards and toppled off the truck. She dislocated her shoulder and broke a rib from that impact. This was nothing compared to that.

"I- I'm good."

Hen looked doubtful. She rose a brow and quirked her head to the side as if to say she didn't believe (Y/n). She reached out for (Y/n) and did a quick assessment, trying to gage whether she had any cuts, bruises or dreaded broken bones.

When Hen's gaze dropped down to (Y/n)'s stomach, she tilted her own head down and followed her gaze.

She hadn't landed on her stomach or her side, she had fallen straight on her back which was relatively lucky if (Y/n) had to fall at all. Her stomach hadn't been jostled, she felt okay and she could feel the baby wriggling too which was a good sign.

"Let me take a look at you." It sounded more like a question than a statement and (Y/n) found herself nodding along.

She felt okay, she had had a lot worse over the years and she had done more damage with harsher falls. But she had never been pregnant before and (Y/n) knew it would put both their minds at ease if Hen just gave her a once over. Just to be safe.

"Both of you, walk it off and get back in there." Gerrard pointed over at them before he grabbed the radio on his shoulder and presumably sent a snarky order out to someone else or to dispatch.

"I need to examine her-"

"Do you see her screaming in pain, Wilson? She's fine, get up and get back to work before this whole place goes under. Now!"

Twisting her head, (Y/n) looked up at Hen and tried her best to smile and hold back a flinch. She was fine, as long as she could get up with no obvious pains she would be okay to carry on.

(Y/n) gratefully accepted Hen's arm, smiling weakly when Hen took her weight and easily helped her up to her feet. She could feel her head starting to swim and float when she was up on her feet and her knees trembled but after a few seconds, her body started to level itself back out again. Just like hitting a reset button on a computer.

(Y/n) dusted her gloves across her jacket and over her knees, getting rid of the sprinkles of glass that dropped down on them like the first fall of snow. She was okay. She didn't even feel sick or any pain anywhere and when she danced her hand over her abdomen, she smiled. The baby was wriggling and kicking. He was fine too.

"Are you sure you're good? If not tell me and I'll-"

"No, no fussing, come on we've had worse." If the baby was moving and (Y/n) didn't have any pain except for a few twinges and bruises, she was good to go. They were in the middle of an emergency and Hen had a job to do, (Y/n) wasn't going to get in the way and distract her and provoke Gerrard's wrath.

"What the Hell are you doing?!"

A shiver tore down (Y/n)'s spine and her eyes darted around, frantically trying to find where that voice came from. She wasn't sure whether to be relieved or frightened when she realised it was Evan calling out to her. If it was Gerrard again she would be in for a disciplinary talk, but knowing it was one of her partners only made (Y/n)'s worry spike.

Evan stormed over to them like a God walking amongst humans and the demanour glowing around him made him tower over the people he bypassed to get to them.

His clenched hands uncurled and reached out for (Y/n) the moment she was within reach. He gripped her upper arms, pulling her closer whilst simultaneously nudging her back so she was away from the building in case a secondary explosion rocked the street.

"Evan-"

"You shouldn't be anywhere near the fire-" Something dawned on him and flashed across his pupils before he was looking her over frantically. "Are you okay?"

"The blast knocked us off our feet-"

"But I'm okay." (Y/n) finished for Hen, looking between the pair of them before she gripped Evan's shoulders to try and get him to look back at her.

"Get back in the truck."

"Stop this mother's meeting and get your asses back to work I've already told you once. Top floors are evacuated and simmered down, we need that ground floor fire under control before the foundations are burned to cinders." Gerrard's voice barked like a rabid dog and his teeth flared and flashed in the glimmering sunlight trying to break through the smoke.

He pointed his hand towards the building before he clapped his hand and pointed someone nearby to turn on the hose on the truck. They needed this situation under control, standing chatting in the street wasn't going to help.

(Y/n) shivered when Evan's voice cut across the top of her ear, telling her again to get in the truck.

His hand found her lower back and he pointed her in the right direction. He didn't care if she sat in the truck or the ambulance. Hell, Evan didn't care if (Y/n) sat on the pavement or if she went and sat with some of the other medics and helped the casualties. He just needed her away from this building so her and their baby weren't in any danger.

He tried to get (Y/n) to walk over to the truck but he felt her shudder and back up into his chest when Gerrard looked directly at her. He didn't say anything, but he didn't need to. The blazing fury in his eyes told them all if they didn't move right now, he was going to be spitting feathers and his next words wouldn't be pretty.

(Y/n) didn't know what to do. She didn't want to stand back and do nothing, but she couldn't go near the building until it was cleared and coded as safe. And she could feel Evan's hands on her arms, squeezing tightly before he nudged her to walk in the opposite direction.

Evan didn't want to, but he let go of (Y/n) once she took a few steps away. His body rattled in frustration, panic and an overload of adrenaline that was fueling his anger.

His fingers shook through his gloves as he reached down and grabbed the hose, tossing it over his right shoulder so he could get back to work.

"(Y/l/n) where the Hell are you going-"

"She's not going near that fire." Evan tilted his head back and kept his eyes straight ahead, trying not to spare one little glance towards the shorter man on his right who was grating on his last nerve.

"(Y/l/n) I gave you a direct order and you, Buckley, aren't in charge here. Get back to your original post."

The hose on Evan's shoulder slid down to the crook of his elbow and he turned sharply until he was face to face with Gerrard. His left hand reached out and gave him a rough shove in the shoulder while his nose crinkled and his jaw locked so tightly Evan thought his teeth were going to break.

"Your orders are bullshit."

"Think carefully about your next words."

"Your orders are bullshit and violate the handbook by putting a pregnant worker at risk. And by picking on her because she's pregnant, you're discriminating against her. She stays in the truck or I go and get a second opinion from Captain Truman, this is his callout, not yours."

Evan was begging for a fight. His shoulders tensed up and his head tilted back as he prayed, willed, hoped, for Gerrard to disagree with him. He wanted Gerrard to bite, to snap and shout and scream and show his true colours because then Evan had some leverage.

He could go over to the Captain of the 138 and ask for his orders and tell him there was a worker on this scene who was pregnant and in the line of duty. The 138 got to this callout first and it made their Captain the lead in this operation, he had the discretion and the control here.

Evan could see a vein throbbing in Gerrard's neck and he was quite sure that his new Captain was on the verge of combusting like a molecule. But he didn't. Gerrard didn't say anything. All he did was point towards the building, and Evan took that as his win.

He knew they would be having words when they got back to the station, but he was already formulating his defence and if that didn't work, Evan would be finding the number for Chief Simmons.

He wasn't going to stand for this any longer.

***

(Y/n) could feel her head beginning to swim as she leaned to the left until her burning temple was slumped against the window.

Her head was pounding. Her stomach was starting to ache and cramp and she was sure it was because they had skipped lunch and seeing Evan interact with Gerrard had put her on edge.

She felt Eddie's hand on her thigh and after a few seconds, she realised he was leaning down against her and his lips pressed into her temple.

Evan was sitting opposite them with a face like thunder. His jaw was grinding so much they could all hear the joint clicking back and forth. His hands were clenched into fists and pushing down onto his thighs, creating indents in his trousers. His knees were bent out to the sides and his back was straight against the seat while he stared out the window, not looking at any of them.

They all knew he and Gerrard were going to be having an argument when they rolled up at the station. Everyone was anticipating and dreading it. Hen was ready to call the Chief herself for back up. Chimney was ready to stop a fight from breaking out and debating whether or not to call Bobby to diffuse the situation.

And Eddie was waiting for anything. He was waiting for them to pull up at the station so he could tell Evan to go home. Go talk to Bobby. Talk to the Chief on his own, just avoid an argument at all costs. Arguing would only set Gerrard on the rest of them and if Evan spoke out of line, Gerrard would have his neck for it.

But Eddie couldn't help but worry about their girlfriend. She hadn't spoken since the fire had been put out and they were all cleared to head back to the station. She slumped in her seat in the truck and seemed to switch off completely and that wasn't like her.

Everyone jumped like they had been shocked when the truck started to reverse into the station.

They barely managed to fling their belts off before Gerrard was out the truck and his voice was compelling them forward.

"Everyone out. Now."

(Y/n) could see stars in front of her eyes when she tried to stand up. Her knees were shaking and her stomach felt like it was trying to drop down to her feet. And her back, oh her back right between her hips was aching with every throb of her heartbeat. She must have landed funny during the blast and taken a harsher landing than she thought.

She kept one hand on her stomach and used the other as leverage to slowly climb down from the truck.

"Alright, now everyone listen up."

Her limbs began to shake as she moved to stand in between her boys. Part of (Y/n)was desperate to run and hide. To hurry up to the kitchen or lock herself in the toilets to be away from Gerrard because this wasn't going to be good.

He was going to direct most of his anger towards her and Evan. He would give them all clean up duty, give them hard and pointless tasks, make them feel worthless. He was going to punish them for his own mistakes that he had made on purpose.

Tilting her head down, (Y/n) looked down at her boots and shuffled her weight from one foot to the other. She curled her right hand around the back of Eddie's bicep and leaned into him while her other hand rested on her stomach, something she hated to do in front of Gerrard, but right now she didn't care.

She felt sick. The baby was twisting and kicking and there was a dull ache she couldn't ignore.

She silently prayed for the baby to stay still so she could concentrate, but it didn't help. All (Y/n) could focus on was the pain in her back, the unusual ache in her stomach and her heartbeat that was thumping throughout every inch of her skin.

"Now that was a shit-show out there and every one of you ought to be ashamed." Gerrard's voice boomed around the station and echoed back to him, but (Y/n) barely heard him over her pulse rushing through her ears.

Panic and terror clawed their way into (Y/n)'s heart when a rather strong pain tore through her abdomen. She pressed her palm down harder on her stomach and twisted herself to the right so she could press her forehead into Eddie's bicep. She didn't care if Gerrard noticed and called her out on being so close to one of her partners.

She didn't feel well.

His words continued to rocket through the air and send them all reeling and most of them either looked up at the roof beams or stared down at their shoes to avoid his horrid gaze.

(Y/n) closed her eyes and tried to take deep breaths through her nose but her shoulders tensed up when another pain ignited in her stomach and she realised it was similar to a cramp.

Her knees bent forward and she pushed down like she was trying to squat, although (Y/n) wasn't sure what she was doing or if she was trying to sit down or not. She was just trying to make the pain go away. Her teeth sank down into her lower lip but it didn't stop a small sound from escaping and she tugged on Eddie's hand while her other arm bound into her bump, pushing down to relieve the pain.

"Oow," Her face meshed into Eddie's arm causing her tears to trickle down onto his arm and she felt his free hand quickly gripping her left arm to stop her from going down to the floor.

"Hey, hey what's wrong? What's happening?" Eddie's nails scratched into (Y/n)'s elbow to try and keep her upright and his eyes flitted from her to Evan who was quick to hold onto her hips.

"Oh for God's sake what's the problem now?" Gerrard's hands found his hips and his foot began to tap against the polished floor. "If you're gonna start this (Y/l/n) then go home-"

"She needs a doctor." Hen snapped defensively before she turned her back on him and moved to stand beside Eddie, looking over at her friend.

They weren't going to let him belittle (Y/n) right now when she was clearly in agony and something was wrong. When she had her frequent nosebleeds he taunted her and made her feel like a child. He made everyone afraid to speak out if they felt ill or if they had a problem, but (Y/n) especially. She didn't dare complain or say anything because Gerrard wanted any excuse to tell her she was weak and if she was pregnant then she shouldn't be here. But this was different.

Evan was sure he heard Gerrard mutter "I don't fucking believe this," under his breath but when the Captain stormed off towards the bench, Evan felt a little better. He knew Gerrard was going to stay and watch, waiting for his moment to strike and tell them off or try and bark out an order, but everyone would ignore him for the time being.

"Okay, let's sit you down, hm?"

(Y/n) kept her face meshed into Eddie's arm, trying to stifle her tears but she managed to nod. She felt him move round so he and Evan both had one of her arms each and they slowly lowered down to their knees with (Y/n) between them.

Once she was down on her knees, she leaned over and tried to bury her face against Evan's thighs. The compressing weight on her stomach made her feel a bit better, but a groan mixed with a whine burned at the back of her throat when Eddie carefully reeled her back up. He couldn't examine her like that.

"What hurts, baby what's wrong?" Evan gently cupped (Y/n)'s chin and tilted her head back so she was looking up at him through tears.

"I- there, hurts there." She shakily moved Evan's hand from her arm to the lower side of her abdomen and her words set his heart rocketing in his chest.

He had been praying she wouldn't say something like that. He hoped she would have some sort of back pain or stomach ache, but not something to do with the baby. They couldn't have an issue now with the baby when everything had gone smoothly up to now.

"Let me look." Eddie's voice was soft and he glanced between both partners before he shuffled round so he was in front of (Y/n) with Evan pressed up on his right side.

He managed a weak smile when Hen grabbed a medic bag from the truck and placed it down beside him.

His hands shook as he reached out for (Y/n)'s stomach and started to prod around. He pressed the heel of his hand into various parts of her abdomen, trying to feel how the baby was laid and if he could feel anything out of place.

Part of him was hoping to feel a hernia because at least that wouldn't be an issue with the baby.

"Okay, let's check your BP."

He slid the strap up (Y/n)'s right arm that he placed over his thighs and clipped an oxygen pulse monitor on her index finger. He waited a few moments until the monitor beeped and his brow arched when he saw the numbers.

"Pulse and BP are high, I just wanna take a quick listen." Eddie's words confused (Y/n) until she watched him find a stethoscope in the bag and he softly lifted her shirt to reveal her abdomen to his eyes. "Baby's heartbeat is a bit low."

His words made (Y/n)'s shoulders quake and she leaned into Evan, unable to smother a sob.

She curled her left hand around Evan's arm, feeling his other hand cupping the back of her neck while she pressed her face into his shoulder as if trying to hide away would make her feel any better. Her right hand moved down to her stomach, pushing down to try and take away the cramps and she pushed up on her knees to lean more into Evan.

"No, no-" Eddie hooked the stethoscope around his neck before he reached out for (Y/n), grabbing her arms with alarming force. "Hen get the ambulance fired up. Baby, we need to take you down to the emergency room."

"W-why? Eddie, what's wrong?" (Y/n) didn't dare ask but she could see the panic in his eyes and the way he kept cracking his jaw and biting his lower lip. He was trying to put on his calm face, his medic mode to stop her and Evan from panicking, but it wasn't working.

They both watched Eddie's eyes dart down (Y/n)'s body before he held her gaze again. "You're bleeding and the baby's heartbeat is low, you need a scan."

Evan's fingers punctured into the back of (Y/n)'s neck and his chin perched on her shoulder so he could look down her back. Sure enough, he could see the blood patching into the back of her trousers and inner thighs. Blood loss and a low heartbeat meant there was some sort of internal problem, something wrong with the baby. They needed to get a scan to see what was going on and sort this before any lasting damage occurred.

Leaning over, Eddie held (Y/n)'s upper arms and went to try and help her up, but he stopped and looked over his right shoulder when he saw who (Y/n) was staring at.

She had locked eyes with Hen who wasn't moving towards the ambulance. Eddie told her they needed to go, either she or Chimney needed to drive the ambulance. Why weren't they moving?

"The blast, from the building fire today… we- we got knocked down." Hen looked between (Y/n) and the boys, guilt, panic and fear swirling in her pupils that looked like black holes.

"You fell?"

"I- it was only a tumble, I didn't- I felt fine-" (Y/n) clutched Evan's arms tighter, meshing her cheek into his shoulder as tears drenched her face.

Was this her fault? Had something happened because of the fall? She had felt fine, it wasn't even a proper fall, she just got knocked down on her back. That was it. She got up and dusted down and felt normal save for a few bruises, she didn't land on her stomach or bash her side or anything that would suggest there might be damage to the baby.

A sob bubbled past her lips while Evan tilted his head down to kiss the top of her head, carding his fingers through her hair to try and calm her down. This wasn't her fault.

"He didn't let me assess her." Hen turned on her heels and jogged towards the ambulance before she said something she shouldn't.

She should have insisted. She should have checked (Y/n) over anyway even if Gerrard told them both not to. She should have sent (Y/n) over to the paramedics on site and made sure she got checked, they might have picked something up or in the very least told (Y/n) to go down to the emergency room to be safe.

Anger seeped through every inch of Eddie's body but he forced himself to look down at (Y/n). If he looked over at his Captain he was going to lose control and start a fight that would get him suspended.

"Buck, up. It might be a placental abruption, we need to go."

Nodding, Evan slid his hands down to (Y/n)'s waist and looped his arms tightly around her. He let her shuffle further into his chest with her arms around his neck and with Eddie's hands on her hips, they both slowly pulled her up to her feet, sandwiching her between them. They could feel how badly (Y/n) was shaking and it was clear she wasn't going to be able to walk very far in this state.

They made an odd shuffle towards the ambulance but Evan's head snapped up to lock eyes with Gerrard when the Captain spoke.

"Wilson drives, Diaz goes. I'm not having my whole team disappear on this field trip. Han, Buckley, fall back."

That was a punishment. That was because Evan had spoken out against him earlier and pulled the rule book on him. This was Gerrard trying to get payback and his way of insulting them because he didn't understand their relationship. If Bobby was here he wouldn't hesitate to find cover for the remaining shift and let all of them go down to the hospital.

"You fucking caused this! We're taking her to hospital-"

"If you go there will be a record of action on your file and I can suspend you for your disobedience today Buckley."

Again, that wasn't fair and that was a punishment Gerrard couldn't enforce. Evan knew the rules. It was a record of conversation first and he couldn't be suspended on the spot without talking to the Chief, especially if Gerrard didn't have any backing or reasoning beforehand.

"After what you've done? I'm calling the union rep and the Chief from the hospital. We'll see who's ass gets fired for this." Eddie locked eyes with Gerrard for the longest moment before he turned away to face his partners again. Gerrard had put (Y/n) and their baby at risk, he wasn't getting away with this.

They all heard Chimney holler "All in," while he opened the back doors to the ambulance and it was clear what he was saying. They were all taking (Y/n) to the hospital. He wasn't waiting here for news, he was riding shotgun and taking one of his family to see a doctor. Hen wouldn't be coming back on shift until she knew if (Y/n) was alright or not. And the boys were staying with their girl.

(Y/n) managed to lift her head from Evan's arm to look between him and Eddie. She could see the thunder on their faces and the way Eddie's lips were snarling while Evan's lips were pursed and tense. But they both softened when they looked down at her.

Evan's arms squeezed around her and Eddie kissed the back of her head was they carefully eased her up into the ambulance.

They were going to look after her. And they were going to make Gerrard pay for what he'd done to them all.

[chaos-in-deepspace]

LNDS: Heartstring Healer Continued | 18+ NSFW

Aight homies, since the devs wanna dehydrate us with the lack of Zayne content, imma have to make sure we're watered. This is a continuation of his newest card "Heartstring Healer". I recommend listening to the card before reading this. You can find them on youtube I swear this community be pullin through for the people who can't ever get cards or afford stuff.

Also I wrote this in like two hours and kinda went over it, but it is what it is, Sorry if it goes to past and present tense. I tried fixing it but your home boy be tired af.

Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+. Warnings: Oral Sex (Giving), Slight Exhibitionism, Teasing, Medical Roleplay, Penis in Vagina Sex, Almost Caught, Unsafe Sex, Creampie, Multiple Orgasms, Fingering Synopsis: You visit Doctor Zayne during one of his trips and find out that he has quiet a bit of fans. When you finally corner him, you decide to prescribe a treatment plan to help you both with your jealousy. Word Count: 5,149

Blog Information | Masterlist

Zayne

Heartstring Healer Continuation

The hallways were livelier than you expected after Doctor Zayne's lecture. You had seen the crowd of students that tried gathering around your doctor, wanting even an ounce of his attention. Some holding gifts, others trying to invite him to some of the other events.

In all honesty, you were a little annoyed. You knew they had no way of knowing that Zayne was taken since he didn't exactly wear a ring, but you couldn't help it. Knowing they were all fawning over what was yours had you feeling some sort of way. Your desk mate had been a big help in distracting you from the conversation behind you during the entire lecture. It was a group of girls just swooning over your boyfriend and you had to hold yourself back from saying something.

You heard your phone ringing a few times before it went to Zayne's voicemail. You frowned at seeing this, knowing damn well he had seen you in the lecture hall. Where could he have gone? You could ask around to find out where his current office was, but you would rather he just meet you and take you there himself. Sure he was hiding from his admirers, but it wouldn't kill him to answer your phone call.

You grumbled to yourself as you pocketed your phone, intent on just going back to your hotel and getting some much needed rest. You had impulsively come all the way here, knowing he was busy, but you still felt disappointed he couldn't spare you even a moment of his time.

You saw the girls from the lecture hall, one holding a small cake in her hands. They were discussing where Zayne's temporary office was and about how they wanted to invite him to a dance.

'Good luck, even I have trouble getting him to go to public events that involve dancing.' You couldn't help but think to yourself with a sad smile. Then you felt something, a small tug on your wrist.

Before you knew it, you were being pulled into a dark room by a strong hand. You spun around, about to yell at whoever decided this was a good idea when you bumped into the chest of none other than Doctor Zayne. His hand snaked around your waist and dragged you closer to his chest.

"Shhhh." He whispered, leaning closer to your ear. You heared footsteps right outside the door and then the giggling of those two girls from earlier come to light. There was a knock on the door as the girls began talking about the cake and dance once again.

You couldn't help but glare at the door, remembering everything they had said about Zayne earlier. Sure he was hot and granted, you talked to Tara about his amazing physic and looks all the time, but hearing strangers talking about his build and how hot he was had rubbed you wrong.

Then you recalled how Zayne had barely replied to your texts and how most of your calls went to voicemail when you attempted. The small, petty part of you bubbled up as you got on your toes to whisper in his ear.

"Perhaps you should let them in, Doctor Zayne. They seemed really eager to...get to know you during the lecture." You said, accentuating your words to let him know exactly what they wanted to know about him.

Zayne gave your waist a squeeze of assurance, grabbing your chin with his free hand so you were forced to look at his eyes, "Someone is already here. First come, first served." His voice was a bit huskier than you thought as he whispered those words to you.

You flushed at the thoughts running through your head. You could barely make out the girls giving up and leaving. The moment they were gone, Zayne seemed to sag in relief. He let go of you and backed away.

"You sure that was fine. She had made you a homemade cake and everything." You commented and Zayne huffed.

"I don't recall them ever mention making it themselves." He commented.

"Still, you sure do have a lot of people wanting to be your patient. Must be hard being this popular."

"One impulsive patient gives me more headaches than the other patients combined." He said, looking pointedly at you. You put your hands up in defense and giggled a bit.

"When have I ever been impulsive...other than right now?" The look he gave you said it all. You looked away from him, knowing damn well he could make an entire list just from the past three months of every impulsive decision you made.

You decided the best way to get him off your back was to change the topic. You looked around the office that was being lit up by the sun. It was a nicely set up room and you could see him getting used to the more cozy vibes of the place.

"No wonder you wanted to stay here for half a month, this place is pretty nice." You said as you began looking through the papers on his desk, grabbing one of them to pretend to read.

Zayne walked up behind you, snatching the paper from your hands and looking over what had stolen your attention, "I had wanted to leave early, but I suppose I don't need to now."

"Oh, why is that? Are you being spoiled by all the events here? I heard there's a dance going on tonight. I bet you're dying to go. You also have the pick of the litter when it comes to cute girls to go with you, if the lecture hall was anything to go off of." Ah, your jealousy had reared its ugly head again.

"I think someone else is spoiled. Someone barely sat down before getting hit on by a young man." He pointed out and you couldn't help but smile. At least you weren't alone in your jealousy.

You pulled the papers down and looked up at him from behind them, "Well I did miss part of the lecture with how much those girls were talking about you. Perhaps I should find that cute boy and ask him for his notes..."

Zayne pulled the paper back and you hum, "Are you...upset?" You finally asked with a sly smile.

"Should I be?"

"Probably not, but who am I to control your emotions?" You said, still grinning from ear to ear.

You heard Zayne sigh as he finally placed the papers down. His hands went back to your waist, pulling you closer to him again. You basked in his warmth, and how his large hand felt on the small of your back. You looked up at him, waiting patiently for him to speak.

"Are you actually here because you're interested in medical knowledge?" He knew damn well you weren't.

"Actually I'm here for a check up with my doctor." You coyly said, squeezing your hands around the lapels of his lab coat that hung open.

"There are a lot of hospitals in Linkon. To go out of your way to see me, you must have put in a lot of time and effort." He said as one of his hands went to cup your own, giving it a small squeeze in response.

"Well that's because you're the cause and cure for my ailments."

Zayne actually let out a small huff of amusement, "Please do enlighten me as to how I'm the cause and cure?"

"Well first my heart hurt when you weren't with me over in Linkon, and it felt strange when you didn't answer my calls or took too long to reply to my messages." You said, using the hand that wasn't trapped in his and playing with the fabric it was grasping.

"Then earlier when those girls were talking about you, I felt all yucky inside." You admitted as you leaned your body into him. You felt him sigh into your touch as you rested your head on his chest.

"Then how can I be of assistance to you and your ailments?" He whispered, squeezing your hand and rocking a bit in place with you in his arms.

"Have you had similar symptoms, Doctor Zayne?" You said, your voice coming out softly as you enjoyed this moment.

"Yes, I have. It's been rather inconvenient. I almost flew back to Linkon early to find the cause of my problems." He said and you chuckled.

"Well since I'm here now, how about I give you a small check up and make sure you're doing better now that I'm here." You suggested, parting from him for a moment.

You watched him raise an eyebrow and smirk a bit before speaking, "And how do you intend to do that?"

It wasn't hard to figure it out for you. You playfully nudge him until he fell on the desk. You fell with him, still being in close proximity. Your hands rested on his chest and it was your turn to smirk down at him. Zayne opened his legs just a bit so you could comfortably slot yourself between them.

You go and take the stethoscope from around his neck and put it around your own, "We'll have to start with checking your heart." You comment, placing the ear pieces in and placing the metal bit over Zayne's chest.

"And what do you hear?" He asked and you let out a small hum. You didn't actually know how to do this, but you did know that the sound was too faint for you to get a proper read.

"Your shirt is too thick, you'll need to remove it for me to properly hear you." You deduce, going to undo the neck straps of his shirt. Your hands slowly worked on the buttons; by the time you were working on the button near his stomach, his hand came to capture your own.

"Might I ask what game you're playing at?" He asked, knowing you were up to no good at this point. You bit your lip and shuffled a bit, unintentionally grinding your body against Zayne.

"I assure you, sir, this is all part of the check up." You lied and he sighed, letting go of your hand. You could see his gaze going over towards the door and you shook your head.

"The lights are off, so as long as we're not too loud, nobody will even know we're inside." You promised him. Zayne just sighed at your antics and went back to relaxing on his forearms as you worked his shirt off.

Once the shirt was unbuttoned, you slid it off his form and watched the fabric pool around his elbows. He was always breathtaking, but sometimes you forget just how well built he was. He did put a lot of effort into his personal health, fitness included.

Your hands twitched, wanting to just glide them across the expanse of his chest, but you just grabbed the metal piece of the stethoscope and put it back on him. You could hear the thrumming of his heart a lot better like this.

"Your heartrate is a bit faster than normal." You commented, running the cool metal over his chest, making sure it gently grazed one of his nipples. He grunted a bit as he shifted underneath you.

"Certain activities or scenarios can accelerate one's heartrate, as I'm sure you know, doctor." He pointed out, making you smirk in response.

"Is that so? Perhaps we should double check that it's the scenario that's making your heart accelerate, and not other factors." You said, one hand still pressing the metal bit on him while the other slowly trailed down him chest.

Your hands gently grazed the fine hairs leading down into his pants. You wanted desperately to lean down and bite the skin near his Adonis belt but managed to reel yourself in. Instead your hand grazed the front of his pants. You felt his cock twitch underneath your touch and his heart began beating faster.

"Well, it looks like your theory was correct. This scenario is making your heart act up. I wonder why that is...?" You said, squeezing him through his pants. Zayne's breath hitched as he rolled his hips into your touch.

"And what would you prescribe for a treatment plan, doctor?" He said, enjoying the way your hand slowly teased him.

"I think you might be stressed from your trip. Perhaps I can provide a bit of relief for you." You prescribed. You met his gaze for a moment and could see just how dark his eyes had gotten, his breathing coming out in soft pants from this little stimulus. You guessed he really did miss you if he was already falling apart in your hands.

You slowly sink to your knees, nudging his legs to open a bit more. Your hand trailing over the zipper of his pants as you then got the idea to reach up. Your mouth caught the cold metal and slowly slid it down before going to push his pants down.

You noticed his gaze went back to the door again, and you couldn't help but pinch at his thighs, "It's fine, nobody is going to just barge into a doctor's office."

You finally managed to get his cock free, noticing how it was already dripping precum. You let out a small groan at the sight, licking your lips before leaning in and kissing the base, your hand wrapping around it and giving it a few short tugs.

Zayne's hands clutched at the end of the desk and you swore if he wasn't careful, the wood might splinter under his grasp. Still, seeing his flushed face and open mouth was doing things to you. You felt like you were already dripping from the sight of the man.

You licked the tip of his cock, groaning at the taste of his salty precum. The taste of him was never bad, and it was uniquely Zayne and you could never get enough of it. This sight, the sounds he was making, it was for your eyes and ears only and the thought had you almost creaming your pants.

You finally open your mouth, taking his cock in and feeling the heavy weight of it against your tongue. You groaned at the sensation, slowly bobbing your head on him. Your hand wrapped around what you couldn't fit into your mouth, making sure all of him was feeling you in some way.

Your tongue glided, pressing against the veins on the underside of his dick as you worked him. He was panting from your mouth, his hand going to push your hair out of your face so he could get a better look at you. You looked up at him, mouth full of his length and you moaned at the half lidded expression he was giving you.

Zayne had bit down on his lip to keep his voice down, but seeing you bobbing on his cock was testing his restraint. He wanted to buck his hips into your mouth, watch you choke on his cock as your eyes teared up from trying to take all of him. He held back though, not knowing what you wanted in today's little tryst.

His cock began twitching in your mouth, signaling he was close to spilling down your throat. Suddenly you two heard footsteps approaching the door and you paused, mouth still on him as you listened to what was going on.

There was another knock on the door, followed by voices, "I double checked, this is his office." One of the girl's voices filtered through the door.

"Do you think he already left for the day?" The other girl said and you glared in the direction of the voices. You slowly slid your tongue around his sensitive length, enjoying how he seemed to jolt at feeling you moving on him again.

"Maybe we can just leave the cake inside?" Zayne's grip on your hair tightened at that. You just glared up at him now, relaxing your throat as you slid him deeper in your throat. Let them come in. Let them see that you, and only you could make the Doctor Zayne act like this in a public space.

Zayne had to bite back a groan as you continued trying to get him to cum while those girls debating walking in. He was glaring at you then nervously glancing up at the door.

"We can't just go into his office though, he might have sensitive documents in there. We could get in trouble." The second girl finally said, and you heard the other sigh.

"You're right...I'll just try again tomorrow." The first girl said.

Good luck, if you had any say about it, Zayne would be spending the day in your bed, making you see stars all day.

You heard them leaving the door before you finally popped your mouth off his cock, using your spit as lube as you continued stroking him. A bit of his precum snapping away from your lips as you looked up at Zayne.

"That wasn't funny." Zayne finally said, but the flush on his cheeks and chest were saying something else. Not to mention how his cock was still twitching in your hands.

"Perhaps we should continue this when we have a bit more privacy, like at the hotel." He said, cupping your hand and taking it off him. You let out a pitiful whine as you pouted.

You stood up and caged him in with your arms. You happily leaned into him, capturing his mouth with your own and nibbling on his lower lip. He easily opened up for you, and your hand went to cup his cheek as you deepen the kiss, loving the way he tasted against your tongue.

He groaned into your mouth, making your thighs squeeze together. You could feel just how wet you were by standing in front of him, and you wanted to make it known.

"We can just lock the door, but Zayne I won't be able to make it back to the hotel like this." You said against his mouth, giving his jaw and neck a few kisses. You undo your pants, unzipping it and pushing it down slightly then you grabbed his hand.

You move it over your underwear and groan when his fingers pressed against your clothed folds, "See, I'm soaking already just from having your cock in my mouth. Please, Zayne?" You begged, wanting him to ruin you in this office.

Zayne pressed harder against your cunt, making your hips roll against his hand, "Fine, lock the door. We need to remain quiet though." He still had his reputation and he couldn't go tarnishing it, no matter how tempting you were.

You smiled and parted from him, fast walking to the door and locking it up. You backed away from the door, only to be met with a solid chest. You looked up, seeing Zayne had already moved behind you. His large hands moving under your shirt and squeezing your hips, pulling you flush to his pelvis where you could feel his cock against your back.

Zayne began to slowly take off your shirt, tossing it to the side and unhooking your bra without hesitation. He went to cup one of your breasts, squeezing it and making you groan, pressing further into him so you could feel his cock rutting against you.

"Fuck, Zayne please." You pleaded, looking up at him with want. He cursed under his breath, pulling apart just enough to spin you around. Effortlessly, he picked you up and began making his way over to the desk. He scattered the rest of the papers to the floor and placed you on top.

"You're going to be the death of me." He murmured against your neck, leaving soft kisses all over as his hands begin working on pulling your pants and underwear down. You helped him by raising your hips until he could toss them to the ground with your growing pile of clothes. He placed your underwear next to you on the desk, probably intent on pocketing them after this.

Zayne spread your legs open some more so he could run a finger along your slick pussy. You sighed in relief at feeling his finger pressing into your heat without any hesitation. You were already so wet he easily slid a second, his thumb going to glide against your clit.

"Zayne, please I want to feel you inside me already." You whisper-whined into his ear. He smirked, looking up at you as his fingers curled inside of you, making you gasp and roll your hips into his waiting hand.

"Am I not already inside you?" He teased, pressing down on your clit for a moment to accentuate his point before rolling it in circles.

"You know what I mean." You whined again and he tsked.

"You'll have to be more specific, love. What do you want inside this tight cunt of yours?" He asked and you clenched around his digits at those words. Your legs were already shaking as you felt your orgasm building up.

"I want your cock inside of me, Zayne." You whimpered, feeling how he was slowly stretching you out with his fingers. A third was prodding at your entrance and you opened your legs a bit more for him.

You heard Zayne shushing you as he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, "I'll give it to you once you cum on my fingers. Can you do that, love? I don't want to hurt you." He said, knowing just how big his cock was.

You groaned at the thought, knowing you were teetering towards the edge. Feeling his mouth pressing gentle kisses along your jaw and nipping at your earlobe was what did you in. You gasped and immediately his mouth was on yours, swallowing all your cries. Your orgasm crashing down on you as you tightened around his fingers, sucking them in.

Your hands finding his biceps, nails digging in as you fought to keep your noises to a minimum as your hips rolled in time with him. Once you were coming down you were panting against his mouth, feeling breathless.

You felt his fingers leave your cunt and you whined at the loss. You watched as he moved his fingers over to his mouth, licking your essence off of them. His eyes fluttered closed for a moment before turning back to you sharply.

"I'll have to properly taste you later tonight, but for now I need to be inside you." Zayne said, squeezing your thighs as he begins lining himself up with you.

You still felt sensitive, so the moment the tip of his cock was pressing into you, your head was thrown back. You couldn't help the mewl leaving you as he began sinking into you, inch by inch. He was always huge and felt like he was splitting you in two anytime you fucked.

Your nails grazed his biceps again, grounding yourself as he continued slipping in until he was a little past halfway inside of you. He stopped, going to press his forehead against your own. Your breaths mingling with one another as you gazed up at him through half lidded eyes.

"Zayne, please fuck me with your whole cock, please." You begged, rolling your hips in an attempt to take more of him inside of you. His hold went to your hips, keeping you still as he looked at you, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"If I do, will you be able to walk out of here when we're done?" He asked and you huffed, trying to rock your hips into him again. He wasn't letting up though, waiting for your answer.

You finally whine, "I promise, just please Zayne, I need you." You were begging. This seemed to be enough of an answer with his self control slipping by the second.

He began pushing his cock back into you until you were flush to his pelvis. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you felt like you could cum just by having him seated inside of you. His cock pressed against every sensitive spot inside of you and it always drove you crazy.

You swore you'd be split in two though, but at the moment you didn't care. You slowly looked down at Zayne who was panting with his eyes closed, stopping himself from fucking into you like an animal. You didn't even realize tears had formed in your eyes until he looked at you and leaned in, kissing them away.

His hands rubbed at your hips gently as you adjusted until he snuck one over and pressed down on your clit. He rolled it in gentle circles and you gasped, feeling your second orgasm crashing over you suddenly. Your eyes widening and you opened your mouth in a silent scream.

He then decided to give an experimental thrust, making you gasp. Your entire body felt like a live wire as your legs locked around his torso, holding him in place as he bucked into your heat again.

"You need to be quiet, remember?" He reminded you, his hips finally starting a steady rhythm of fucking up into you. Despite his warnings, you couldn't help the whimpers coming out of you, feeling his girth every time he thrusted back into you.

You heard Zayne sigh as he looked at you, giving you a small smirk. You looked on, dazed and a bit confused as to why he had that look on his face. That was until you felt the press of fabric against your lips.

"Open up, if you can't remain quiet I have no choice but to gag you." He said and you groaned, opening your mouth and taking your underwear into your mouth. He pressed it down into your mouth, making you mewl around the fabric. You could taste yourself on it and it made your body heat up.

"Tap my arm twice if it becomes too much, alright?" All you could do was nod in confirmation before he began a harder and faster pace. Your eyes widened, your nails digging into his skin.

He leaned his forehead against your own as he fucked you, the intimacy only making your head buzz wonderfully. Your legs shook around his body and your pussy was sucking him in, tightening on occasion whenever you heard him grunt or praise you.

You swore if you died by his dick, you'd be welcomed into Valhalla as a hero. It was everything you could ever hope for, and knowing when he fucked you it was full of emotion made it even better. You felt so in love as your body began tingling, your third orgasm approaching already.

Your cunt fluttered around his dock, making him grunt as it made it almost impossible for him to move, "If you keep that up, I won't last much longer." He said, thrusting shallowly into you until he could move freely again. You groaned behind the fabric, your head rolling back as the tension in your abdomen finally snapped.

"That's it, cum for me, love." He said, fucking you through your orgasm. You felt the tears welling up in your eyes from the stimulation, your body feeling light and your vision almost going white from the intensity. Every thrust of his hips grazing your clit and prolonging your pleasure until it was getting to be too much.

You heard Zayne groaning against your neck, his hand reaching up and taking our your gag. "Where do you want me to - fuck - where can I cum, bunny?" He asked and you flushed.

Your tongue felt heavy in your own mouth as you tried to coherently speak. All you managed was a small "Inside", but it was enough for him.

You heard him hiss against your ear, his thrusts becoming shallow again. Then you felt his cock twitching, and the warmth of his release filling you up. It was all too much as you whimpered against him, arms going around his shoulders and squeezing him closer until you could burry your face into his neck.

He moved your face so he could kiss you, it was sloppy but it was just what you needed as you swallowed every needy groan from him as he finished, his hips rolling languidly against you until finally stopping.

It was silent in the room, the sound of skin-on-skin slapping finally stopping. You two basked in the afterglow for a moment; you stared at the ceiling and trying to come back to reality. You truly felt boneless right now, and maybe even a bit brainless.

You whimpered as Zayne finally begins pulling out of you, the wet squelching noise making you flush in embarrassment. You looked between your legs and watched as your combined release slowly leaked out onto the desk.

"I'll need to find something to clean us up with." He finally murmured and you let out a hum. Honestly you just wanted to lay in his arms, the thought of after care not even crossing your mind in the moment.

Your legs were shaking still and you felt something brushing up against your folds. You looked down to see him with some tissue, wiping away what he could.

"I promise once we get back to the hotel I'll run us a nice, warm bath." He promised, leaning over and kissing your forehead, "Bear with this for just a little."

You smiled, grabbing his by the back of his neck and guiding him to give you a proper kiss, melting against his lips once again. Once you part you couldn't help but mutter a small "Thank you." to him.

He paused as he admired you, his eyes filled with love and you felt almost sheepish under such an intense gaze, "Will you be able to walk?" He asked finally.

You take a moment, shifting your legs and wincing at the soreness. You'd probably be able to walk out of here, but not without a limp, "I think I'll be fine." You finally muttered.

Zayne let out a small, amused huff as his large hands began massaging your inner thighs, "If need be, I can carry you out of here. We can say you slipped." The thought was funny to you, making you snicker. As if a place filled with doctors and medical supplies would buy that story.

You leaned in and kissed his cheek, "So did my treatment plan work for you?" You finally asked.

Zayne took a moment before smirking, "I think I might need another dose when we get back to the hotel...if you're up for it."

Despite the soreness from between your legs, you felt yourself clenching at the thought, "Ya, I think a second treatment might be necessary."

[2ndkaiser]

MOUTHWASHING CREW HEADCANONS

This is my first time writing. I’m not the best at this, I’m just trying to pick up a new hobby so don’t come at me if this is ass. These are my headcanons, this is what I think, my headcanons do not need to be like yours.

꩜ Warnings: Extremely small mention of NSFW content for Daisuke’s part, one swear word.

CAPTAIN CURLY (PRE-CRASH)

Has a collection of cowboy stuff he’s extremely proud of. Pridefully shows it to the rest of the crew.

I like to think he’s not that much of a sweet tooth, but once in a while he eats a spoonful of biscoff spread because he claims that “Its not too sweet” but really he just can’t go one month without the taste of biscoff.

A terrible cook. Absolutely awful. I’m talking frying an egg and made it undercooked but overcooked at the same time.

Used to take immaculate care of his hair back on earth but ran out of products within 4 months on board.

Definitely misses his shiny curls…

Genuinely loves the taste of Alpen yoghurt bars, he could down 20 of them in one sitting.

Once asked Jimmy to help cut his hair and ended up with a frizzy bob look for a while.

CO-PILOT JIMMY

Y’know how one of his canon hobbies is weightlifting? Well he only started lifting because Curly did, he wanted to appear buffer than him.

He cant lift past 50kg btw.

Has a favorite shirt hes too attached to throw away. It’s a Misfits band t-shirt which now has holes in it, the hem of the shirt is practically falling off but he refuses to throw it out.

I know people like to say he probably stinks but honestly he probably smells faint of wood and light musk. It’s not the worst, kind of smells pleasant actually.

Heavily dislikes board games because every time he’s slightly falling behind the rest of the crew he rage quits, gaslighting himself that the game is rigged and storms off.

Secretly likes The Hungry Caterpiller. (Only because it was the only book he could afford as a child.)

Likes the smell of gasoline. I’m not elaborating.

NURSE ANYA

Originally, the Tulpar didn’t have any board games (considering how shitty Pony Express is), she brought them on herself. Theres now a small box of games for everyone tucked away under the table in the living room.

Ran one of those small businesses that sold slime when she was younger but stopped because she got slime stuck in her hair so bad she had to cut her hair.

Back on earth, she was often invited to school trips as a nurse or a medic. One of her fondest memories was when she was brought on a 5 day school residential trip to the beach with 9th graders. She got to go snorkeling with them and became close friends with a few other med students who also got invited.

Never skips leg day.

Theres a hidden cupboard of kids cereal no one knew about but her. She gate-kept it and pours herself a bowl every morning since the other cupboard of cereal is only filled with cornflakes and the granola ones.

Gave a box to Daisuke though but only because he promised not to tell anyone after he saw her taking it off the shelf.

Bonds with Daisuke over animes like Ouran High School Host Club, Assassination Classroom and Life Lesson of Uramichi Oniisan. They’re best friends now.

INTERN DAISUKE

I don’t care what y’all say, he loves playing Wii Sports, specifically tennis and bowling.

Once got scolded by his mother because she thought he was watching hentai. In reality, it was just an anime where the female lead sounds like shes making explicit noises every time she gasps. Poor Daisuke.

Wants to go to Hawaii so bad. He tells his friends that he just wants to go because he loves sunny weather and the beach but really he adores those tanned Sanrio plushes exclusive to Hawaii.

A sucker for malatang. He has the highest spice tolerance out of the whole crew and brought a few packs of Shin ramen to eat. (He offered Swansea one and later saw a sprinting Swansea dashing towards the vending machine for water.)

Won’t be able to sleep for MONTHS after seeing horror movie.

Surprisingly hates gummy bears. Claims the texture is too thick to chew on.

MECHANIC SWANSEA

Tried to convince Pony Express to let his dog on board. Got refused.

Makes a mean Texas Smoked Brisket which he used to make for family gatherings back on earth. Everyone would get upset when he doesn’t show up with one in his hands.

Uses Daisuke as his tool boy like those dads who make their sons hand them tools. Daisuke holds a flashlight for him all the time and Swansea gets annoyed when the light isn’t shining where it’s supposed to be.

Fears balding and asked Anya how to deal with hair loss. She gave him her set of scalp oils to use and now he has the best smelling hair on the ship.

Used to be a jock in his school days. Pulled like 50 girls.

Has a special pair of fun socks his wife gave to him on his 30th birthday, he brought it on the ship because it reminds him of her. Though, everyone laughs at the mini pepperoni pizza patterns on them.

Thanks for reading, this is my first time writing and I have no clue if this is what I’m supposed to be doing. Requests are opened but I don’t have any rules or a masterlist yet. Take care.

[licorice-and-rum]

SOC and Neoliberlism

So, as promised, here it is my analysis of Six of Crows and how neoliberalism is amazingly portrayed in Ketterdam, and how the city is an example of what happens in a community that is not provided for.

Before we begin, I wanted to say that English is not my first language, and, considering I read SOC in Brazilian Portuguese, I might translate some names literally or differently from the English version but I think it's manageable to read and understand my point. If not, I'll edit the text.

The first thing we have to understand is how neoliberalism works and the theory behind it, and then we'll talk about how it's portrayed in Ketterdam.

So neoliberalism is a theory born more or less at the end of the 20th century (70s-80s), and it finds its roots in laissez-faire capitalism, meaning that it's a political current that tries to suppress and/or eliminate the State's influence from the market. The neoliberalist view understands that the market can supply by itself the population's needs without help or limitations imposed by the State.

The thing here is that most people listen to this and think neoliberalism is about electronics, cars, and other stuff. The truth is, that neoliberalism aims to suppress the presence of State-run facilities in ALL corners of society, such as health care, housing, water access, electricity, etcetera.

So, we can use the American and Brazillian health systems to understand it better, for example:

In the US, the ones providing health care for the population are great corporations - they decide the price of care, they work together with pharmaceutical companies to define medicine prices, and the laws that bind them are pretty much only offer and demand. There is almost none State intervention to provide the population with accessible health care.

However, this brings problems, of course: not everyone (actually, most people) has real access to health care simply because they can't afford it, or they can't afford it without taking a big financial hit, which threatens their other basic needs, such as food, housing, water, electricity, etcetera. Not everyone can provide for their medical needs, such as diabetic and disabled people.

That leads to:

(a) an increase in poverty;

(b) a decrease in educational levels - if you don't have the means to pay for higher educational levels because of health care debt, or if you're sick and need to go to class and tough through it but you're not really learning anything, and so on, which leads to a major workforce in base level production and a minor class who has access to this education;

(c) an increase in overworking people - meaning that we have a lot of people taking on several jobs to be able to pay for things like health care, which increases the competitiveness between people, making individualism levels go up and breaking up human beings' natural sense of community.

I could also talk here about how this breeds isolation and increases the potential for mental health problems but I think you got what I was saying.

On the other hand, we have the Brazilian health care system (SUS), which is a universal gratuitous medical care service through the whole country. Its purpose is not profit, it's providing health care for the community, so therefore, any SUS unit is bound by State law and run by the State. By law, every SUS unit must provide for anyone who enters its premises in need of medical care. Everyone, Brazillian and foreigners, poor or rich, must be treated if they need to. It's the law.

Of course, that doesn't mean it's all rainbows and flowers, there are definitely many problems in SUS. However, what I'm trying to showcase here is that, when the needs of a population are met, the population itself is more resilient, their life quality goes up and so does their participation in their community.

On the other hand, in neoliberalism, when the State is absent from these areas of community service, the market is, in theory, the one providing for the community. In practice, however, what we observe from neoliberal policies in cities with a great poor population in Latam for example, is that when the State doesn't provide for the community, the market is unable to step up for them because of their obscene prices.

The poor population that doesn't have their needs met by the State or the market sees a great boom in criminal activities within their spaces. That's mainly why criminal organizations are so present in slums and favelas throughout Latin America: criminal organizations are a way for the community to provide for themselves and, as a means to become more powerful, they provide for the community in exchange for their services (not to say they do that for the good of their hearts, of course not).

It's why it's so common, for example, that criminal organizations such as PCC in Brazil pay for kids from favelas to undergo Law school, for example.

And that's is where I wanted to go to start the conversation in SOC: one of the main traits of Ketterdam is the Barrel and, in the Barrel, we have the presence of many criminal organizations, such as the Dregs, the Dime Lions, the Menagerie staff (not the girls, ofc), etcetera.

This, as observed by Kaz himself, is one of the only ways to survive on the Barrel - you filiate yourself to a gang because you need to be able to provide for yourself and, more times than others, for your family as well.

Kaz's story is actually a perfect example of how Ketterdam is the representation of America in the early 20th century in full policies of laissez-faire (neoliberalism): as we can see in Titanic and many other historical fictions, the said American Dream had people believing the US to be this economical paradise where they could all enter the market and become millionaires.

The result of it is the Great Depression, of course, but I'm getting ahead of myself here.

When Kaz and Jodi leave Lij for Ketterdam, Jodi believes he'll become a merchant - which is a pretty common belief of those who arrive at Ketterdam, as Pekka Rollins and Kaz himself state in Crooked Kingdom.

The reality of it, though, is much harsher, because the truth is that when you have a market that controls everything, as we see in Ketterdam with the Merchant's Guild (I think that's how it's translated?) and the Stadwatch as a police force, you see perfectly how neoliberal policies really work in real life:

You have a higher class who controls the market and the riches (question: who do you think got the money Shu Han sent to Ketterdam at the beginning of the first book: the people of the city/country or the merchants in the "government"?), and a lower class that, without support from the State or the market to have their needs met will turn to their own means to do so.

So you have the trafficking that brought Inej to the island, the unlimited gambling that Jesper was trapped in, the cons Jodi and Kaz fell for - it's all product of liberal policies.

And so, you have Ketterdam and its neoliberal policies (:

(I really love to make this kind of analysis, please, if you have something you want me to talk about, don't hesitate to ask)

[drawing-prompt-s]

GoFundMe: Getting the kitten to the vet...

for a rabies shot, FIV testing, and a possible upper respiratory infection!

So someone sent in the last $305 I needed while I was asleep. I'm transferring it to my account now which means I'm a) shutting off the GFM as soon as the transfers process and b) taking in the kitten as soon as the money becomes available to me - so likely by Friday I'll take her in, or Saturday or Monday (they do half days Saturday, and are closed Monday).

GoFundMe Link Paypal Link

Venmo Link Cashapp Link

Multiple payment options available because I am typically asked for alternatives to GFM and PP.

$350 / $350

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

INFORMATION + VIDEO UNDER THE CUT!

From the GoFundMe description:

Hello!

So, unplanned, there is a new kitten in the house as of Feb. 22, 2024. (Not Jolene's, she is fixed). When at my friend's house - where I will be moving in a few months - we found out that a cat that comes to visit often is not only owned, but a mom. However, the neighbor doesn't want the kittens, so he always puts them outside and leaves them there. I could no, in my right mind, leave the kitten outside by a trashcan and under a tire in February of all months, so I brought her home.

So far I have treated her for hookworms, given her the vaccines I can do myself, and looked into getting a spay voucher from one of the local shelters. The kitten is roughly 3 months old.

However, current concerns are that she may have an upper respiratory infection (and there is always the concern that she could be FIV+). She has an inflamed eye with a regular and concerning amount of discharge and has for a few days. I have also caught her sneezing and she has started coughing on more than a few occasions. She also has a few other signs of sickness - anemia, the runs, and some blood spotted in it. If it is a URI, I need to catch it as fast as possible because I also have Jolene, my 3 year old cat. She absolutely also needs FIV testing and a rabies shot because of that, and because where we are moving there are other cats.

Jolene and the kitten have both been getting along well. The kitten loves to follow her around and Jolene acts more like the disgruntled big sister (don't let her fool you, I have caught them playing regularly - she just needs her alone adult time too).

I have already altered a bit of my projected finances and removed money from my savings to care for the kitten and help her. But there is only so far that can go as I also need to be able to afford gas, food, and furniture for the upcoming move (I'm going to start buying things soon so I can put it together and move my stuff prior to the official move date). I was trying to put off a full vet visit until sending the kitten in for a spay, but with her eye and the possibility of infection spreading to other cats, it can no longer wait.

I am shutting off this GFM as soon as I reach the goal. The vet said to budget for a little more than $300, between the base cost of a visit, FIV testing, rabies, and potential treatment for an Upper Respiratory Infection- assuming it's nothing too major. And I added a little more to what I am expecting because GFM does take a fee from donations.

If the kitten does end up being FIV+ we do have rehoming options available or I will find someone better suited to handle an FIV+ cat (either already having one of their own or a home with no pets).

I tried to take a video of the eye, but as you can imagine, a 3 month old kitten isn't the most keen on staying still, haha.

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

Let me add in the breakdown as well, now that I think about it:

Base cost for my vet to see a new cat (even as a pre-established client with other cats treated there): $100

FIV testing: $40

Rabies (and other vaccines I may be missing I was unable to do myself): $35 - $45

And the vet recommended budgeting about $100 for medications depending on what they find (if she still has worms, if she has other parasites due to being outside untreated, if she has a URI like the current concern is): $100

The rest is tax, the % upcharge for using a card, and to negate the fees that GFM with-drawls from each donation.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Apparently I have a twin now, so I'll call myself 'Crow Doctor'.

But can I request a Nightwing x Male Rogue Reader?

Basically, while Nightwing is fighting some other Rouges, he's hit with fear toxic or something and gets knocked out.

Reader being a bootleg medic of sorts, takes Nightwing to his hideout and patches him up. Taking care of him until he wakes up.

When he does, he figures out that Reader is a doctor who patches up and gives aid to the citizens of gotham that can't afford medical bills or insurance. and maybe after a bit, they start catching feelings for the other.

- Crow Doctor

Dick Grayson x Rogue Male Reader

Headcanons

Sorry this took a million years to write Crow, but I hope you enjoy it anyways :3c

Kinda took the rogue aspect and ran wild. Thought since you went by Crow Doctor, a plague doctor would be fun.

You were one of the newer Gotham Rogues, a next gen, as some would say. They called you Cadaver King, because of your start in the city, scattering corpses all over a specific area of the city, like you were marking your territory.

You wore something mildly inspired by plague doctors, only furthering your image as some kinda wacky insane doctor. No ones ever actually seen you carve people open for fun, but the rumors run rampant and keep normal criminals and gangs out of your territory.

Sure, bodies would still pile up at the borders of your territory as you slowly grow your area, and you have been thrown into Arkham more than once, but you always get out one way or another.

Unlike the other rogues, you are always able to stay out much longer, because you never just attack the public for no reason. You are most known for the cadavers found around the place stitched closed and looking like science experiments.

The bats quickly figure out that all the cadavers they find are criminals, people who do crime and hurt others just because they can, and never someone who steals or does crime because they have no other choice.

You get some respect from Red Hood for this reason, especially when he sees you targeting those that hurt children, using them in sick experiments and furthering your medical knowledge.

The Bats never figure out that under the surface, you are the backer to most smaller medical clinics around the city. The ones not run by Wayne at least. You are a monster, yes, but like all villains you have an origin story, and yours involves those you cared for not getting the medical help they needed, because they couldn’t afford it.

In your past, you would help anybody you could for free, finishing medical school top of your class. But your less than stellar past caused prejudice in many, and you found yourself used and abused by those above you in the food chain.

It didn’t help that you would steal to support those who couldn’t afford medical help themselves. What finally caused you to snap was getting caught stealing medicine, and instead of just getting you arrested, one of the top doctors in the hospital poured dangerous liquids all over you, scarring you for life and putting you in a constant state of torture.

Seeing so many innocent people die because of greed, and seeing your superior laughing as you writhe and wail in pain, is what breaks you. He ends up the first of your many cadavers, his body splayed out in his own operating theater.

Its only a very long time later that people discover just who’s doing all this killing, since so much death and murder happens around Gotham. It’s the fact that they have all been cut and stitched up professionally that clues the Gotham Police in on it being the same guy.

Then you start making a name for yourself, you start fighting the Bats, you target public figures, leaving their bodies hanging from their mansions or workplaces. All whilst wearing your plague doctor mask.

You have even done procedures on multiple of the bats over the years, never anything that could kill them, and it always ends up being stuff that helps them in the long run. They don’t know that though, they just think you are a psycho that likes to cut into people.

All the backstory aside, its this that leads to you hanging around in the shadows and observing as the Bats are fighting the latest Arkham escapees. Scarecrow has pulled himself into your territory, and whilst you like Jonathan, and have worked together many times, it still annoys you.

Seeing Nightwing go down because of fear toxin also makes your blood boil. Mainly because, unlike Jonathan who only seemed to care about fear, you were still a doctor at heart, and you knew how much fear toxin could harm the body, having treated many patients in the past.

That’s why you end up chasing Jonathan out of your territory, wielding different surgical tools and other blades on your person.

Returning to the rooftop with the passed out hero, you don’t even have to think about throwing him over your shoulder and bringing him to one of your many, many, medical studios around the city.

The only people who has more hideouts than you is probably the bats, and yours are definingly more medically equipped than theirs. You never know when youll find a patient, or how quickly they need treatment, so of course you and your lackeys have as many treatment areas as possible.

Theres not much you can do about fear toxin outside of giving Nightwing an antidote and giving him some oxygen to clear it out of his system faster. You stay nearby to observe him though as you work on patient reports.

Normally your lackeys stand for it, all lackeys having above average medical knowledge in general, but you like to check stuff over yourself, just in case. It’s a great way to spend time as you wait, and being productive during.

You have a lot of reports to answer from your lackeys during the night, as the other rogues being out means a lot of patients you need to help. Unlike other lackeys, yours don’t really wear uniforms, meaning they can sneak around without the bats knowing they’re yours.

The only thing that puts them out as yours, is the fact that they all always have medical equipment and first aid kits on their person. You honestly find it kinda funny how the Bats can never seem to figure out your ways, at least not fast enough, as you change up how you do things constantly.

As the night passes, with you waiting for Nightwing to wake up, you end up removing your outer layers. Shrugging off your heavy coat and gloves, even taking off your plague doctor mask. Underneath you wear a compression therapy mask most days, as the liquids the doctor threw on you left lifelong damage.

In the beginning you had been horrified and disgusted by your appearance, but over the years you had come to accept it as a part of yourself. You found out it had a tendency to make patients trust you more, as they knew you had been through something just as horrible as themselves, so you never tried to fix it with plastic surgery.

When Nightwing finally wakes up, you check on him, go through the basics, make sure he’s all there, before you shove him out of your studio. He doesn’t even have time to ask who you are, or what you are doing, or why you helped him.

Going back to the cave, he talks to the other Bats, and they are able to find the injection point where you injected the antidote to the fear toxin, and they can find clues to the treatment you gave him.

You owning an antidote means you are either connected to the Gotham Police, or, you are able to find it yourself, meaning you are a criminal. It puts you on their radar, both as Cadaver king, and as yourself.

The only one who would probably recognize you is Batman himself, since he’s always the one putting you in Arkham, but none of the others have ever seen your face.

Dick finds himself drawn to you in some way, and he ends up hanging out in the area you treated him, hoping to find you again.

Its only coincidence that he ends up in your territory again next time he’s really banged up from patrol and you find him. You are maskless again, compression mask on, as you scoff at his sorry state and drag him to the same studio you used last time.

It becomes a common occurrence, Dick running off to you to get treated. He even starts entering your studio when you are not there, and its only thanks to the sensors you have around the place that you know he’s there, since you don’t give him a way to contact you.

As time passes, he finds himself in your studio for the smallest cut or bruise, just because he wants to spend time with you, and you can’t find it in yourself to send him away since the acrobat has quadruple flipped his way into your heart.

The first time he sees your full face, covered in scars like it is, you can’t help but be gripped by fear that he will be disgusted by you. But instead, he just smiles and looks at you like you are the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

Its only after you guys have been a thing for a while, that he discovers your rogue status. And it’s because he’s spending time in your studio again, when you come barreling in, in full rogue getup, carrying one of your lackeys who had a bad run-in with killer croc.

Dick just stands in the shadows and watches with wide eyes as you rip your mask off and get ready for surgery. He watches as you bark as your other lackeys to get them ready, and he watches as you save the lackeys life.

Somewhere inside Dick probably already knew who you were, how else would you have access to the kinda equipment Gotham’s biggest hospital struggled to get their hands on. He knows all you do for people, as you guys have talked about it before, and he can’t find it in himself to hate you for the fact that you target the worst scum of the earth and use them to further your knowledge.

Its only after you finish up with your lackeys that you look at him, a sad look in your eyes as you know you guys will need to talk.

Its ends with you two on the rooftop of the building, spending a long time just sitting and talking. Talking morals, personal codes, your past, your future, so on and so forth.

But instead of breaking up with you, Dick ends up pulling off his domino mask and telling you who he is before kissing you. You are both people with missions, and Bruce is the one with the no killing rule. The fact that your experiments have slowed down a lot over the years only helps.

You are great at keeping secrets, and you can never find it in yourself to expose Dicks identity no matter what.

You end up worming your way into Anti-hero status as Cadaver King, since it starts to become public knowledge that you have so many legal medical facilities all over town, and that all your lackeys know medical knowledge to help people.

Doesn’t stop you from hunting down corrupt doctors or those that use and manipulate the weak and desperate, but that’s just how it.

Imagine the Batfams reaction when Dick brings you to dinner at the manor for the first time. They know Dick is in a relationship, and has been for a while. Bruce almost chokes on his drink when Dick shows up with you on his arm though.

Most of the family will accept you though, especially with your anti-hero status. You probably end up getting along most with Jason though, since you guys already got along as Red Hood and Cadaver king.

Expect to become the entire batfams doctor though, taking some weight off of Alfreds shoulders. Even Alfred can get overwhelmed with how many of them there are. Ends up letting you get along well with Alfred though, so that’s a plus.

[cripplecharacters]

Hello! I'm planning to draw/write a character who, due to an accident, got quite a bit of scarring on her face and lost an eye. Would they need a prosthetic eye? While searching, everything I found included a step of "And then you'll get fitted for your prosthetic eye", making it sound as if everyone who loses an eye needs to have one, but what would happen if someone didn't? Additionally, would there be a difference between never wearing one and wearing one at first, then stopping?

Hi, thank you for your ask!

Generally it's considered beneficial to have something replace the eye because without it the eyelids will droop and the socket will shrink. It also (more importantly) protects the tissue that's left from things that could potentially get inside, which could cause infection. As far as I was able to research, the former is mostly aesthetic (in adults/people who finished growing, which I'm assuming your character is) but the latter is very important.

However; it doesn't necessarily need to be a prosthetic ("glass") eye - they're the most common option, but eye patches and conformers all protect the socket from debris and stuff just fine (in fact any kind of sealed eyewear probably would). Prosthetics and conformers are medically roughly the same while eye patches do nothing to help the socket or eyelids keep their original shape. (I made a very long post about eye patches but TLDR, I think they're too often associated with frustrating stereotypes and tropes.)

Prosthetic eyes are unfortunately extremely expensive and need professional regular care that a lot of people can't afford, so not everyone can use them. Conformers (basically big, transparent contacts) are an alternative that some people might choose. You can't really see them when they're inside the socket. Here is a very interesting video about conformers and prosthetics by Clay Butler. I wrote a video description and transcript here because the original doesn't have them. It explains a lot of things in a very comprehensible way from a first-person perspective. If you want something that makes sense other than a prosthetic this could be a great thing to consider :) (smile)

If someone doesn't have anything to protect their socket, they risk infection and all the problems associated with it. So you technically could go fully bare, but it's less than ideal. I've also heard that the sensation of eyelid going over the eye socket is uncomfortable (because it's so bumpy) but I assume it depends on the person.

I believe that the difference between never wearing any protection and wearing-then-stopping would just be how fast the things I mentioned in the second paragraph would set in. So if your character recently stopped wearing a prosthetic or conformer, their general eye area would probably look more "normal" than if they never wore it at all.

Here's also the facial difference post that I always link for people making characters with facial scars, which might be helpful to you.

I hope this helps 🙂 (smile emoji)

mod Sasza

[goodlucktai]

Are you still taking prompts? If so, could I ask for some rise!Raph and Mikey? Their brotherly relationship really intrigues me and I wish we could have seen more of it develop in the show, and I just know you would do it justice :D thanks

set pre-movie, canon divergence, in which i simply toss mikey at a problem to fix it

read on ao3

x

This same time last year, Mikey couldn’t wait to grow up. 

Because sometimes—only sometimes—he felt like he had something he needed to prove. 

It’s not that his family doesn’t believe in him. If anything, he thinks, from the lofty heights and newly acquired maturity of fourteen years old, they believe in him a little too much. Whatever he says he can accomplish, they give him room for—and if he can’t pull it off, they help him out and still afford him full credit. Mikey knows it’s just another way they spoil him, but it’s the least egregious manner in which they do, so he lets it slide. 

And it’s definitely not that he ever feels left out or left behind. Michelangelo and his brothers operate on a fulcrum that turns four ways as naturally as the needle on a compass, guided by gravity and the poles of the planet and something even more intrinsic and fundamental than all of that. 

Even when they’re fighting, when Mikey can’t be in the same room as Donnie without the Cain Instinct taking over or Leo goes full Mean Girls and has the cattiest-sounding Facetime with April about whichever one of them ticked him off, purposefully taking his call in the living room where they all could hear it, none of that ever lasts longer than a day. They burn bright and loud and hot, but they burn fast. Gravity keeps everything together. 

Come on, gravity, Mikey thinks, holding onto his temper very carefully. Do your thing. 

“I am not,” he says, for the billionth time in his life, “a baby.”

Raph looks a little nervous, which almost makes Mikey feel bad. But then he says, “That ankle’s sprained, big man. You shouldn’t walk on it.”

“Leo wrapped it up super well! I’ll be careful!” 

Their resident medic is smiling a little to himself, packing everything up again to his own meticulous organizational standards. (Only Donnie truly has his system figured out, but Mikey thinks that’s because they share a brain or soul or whatever.) It’s the full kit, too, Leo didn’t bother with the emergency supplies in his belt-bag and instead opened up a little dinner-plate-sized portal that he reached through to ransack their infirmary back home. 

Mikey wants to roll around on his shell in annoyance. It wasn’t even that bad!

“Sprains can be worse than breaks sometimes,” Leo remarks neutrally, as if he’s commenting on the weather. “Would you rather be careful now or laid up for a couple extra weeks?”

Raph seems grateful for the input, even though he doesn’t look at Leo and Leo doesn’t look up from his kit.

Ugh. “Ugh!” Mikey says out loud for good measure. “Then I can just walk on my hands!” 

It summons a wider smile from Leonardo, one of those crooked, pleasantly surprised ones. He’s so clever and thinks in circles around everyone else—not to be mean or tricky, just because his brain is as fast as Donnie’s and eats up seconds like a racecar around a Formula 1 track—that it’s fun to catch him off-guard with something totally out-of-pocket and watch that smile show up. 

“The whole way back to the Tank?” Raph says skeptically.

“You bet!” Mikey has warmed up to the idea now.

“This I have to see,” Donnie says, putting his phone away and folding his arms on Leo’s carapace. 

“I’ll have you know, Donald, that I walked on my hands for like two days once.” 

“Believe me, Michael, I remember. I was there.”

“You tried to make spaghetti for dinner with your feet,” Leo pipes up, and giggles when Donnie makes a gagging noise above him. He’s done packing his stuff up but he’s still sitting, probably because he likes the weight of his lazy twin leaning against his shell. 

Sensing no further help from that quarter, Raph says, “Mike—” but Mikey has already capitalized on his moment of indecision and flipped forward into a handstand. His foot actually does hurt a lot and his center of balance is a tiny bit skewed, but honestly he could do this for hours. He books it for the edge of the roof, putting something like a skip into his step just to make the twins laugh. There’s a shuffle and a cut-off noise that means the big worry-wart didn’t like it but puh-lease. Mikey’s safe as houses. 

It’s when he clambers up onto the parapet that he remembers the fire escape on this building is the kind with the rolling ladders, not the stairs. 

No one says anything behind him, letting him come to his own conclusion. Mikey would appreciate that except they’re only doing it because he’s the baby and they don’t want to upset him. 

Spinning around, the concrete scraping against his palms, Mikey aims an explosively unhappy frown at all three of them from upside-down.

“I could have done it,” he insists. 

“Of course you could have,” Raph is the first to say. “There’s not a doubt in my mind you could have walked to the moon on your hands if you wanted to. But you don’t have to walk while you’re hurt when Raph is here to carry you.”

He’s so earnest and sweet. It goes a long way in making Mikey forget why he was even annoyed to begin with. His brothers are lucky they’re so loveable! 

With a groan he tucks his head and shoulders and rolls forward, shell bumping playfully against the edge of the parapet, and comes right-side-up sitting criss-cross-applesauce.

“Fine,” he capitulates. “But only because Raphie thinks I could hand-walk to the moon.”

“And back,” Raph says, smiling down at him. Mikey lifts his arms to be scooped up and settled in his usual spot on Raph’s shoulder. 

If this was a year ago, Leo would have been right next to him, perched on Raph’s opposite shoulder and making silly jokes to make Mikey feel better. Leo loves to be carried. It was the one little brother thing his cool guy persona could never eclipse. The one thing Mikey was certain he wouldn’t outgrow no matter how old he got.

But instead of crossing the roof at a run to leap into Raph’s arms, always trusting the process, knowing they would open in time to catch him, Leo stays put. Maybe because Donnie is still resting his weight on him. But his expression is so transparently wistful and lonely for a split-second, even though his brothers are all right there, that it causes a pang of upset in Mikey’s heart. 

“Hey, Lee, room for one more,” he says, patting Raphie’s shoulder. 

Raph scoffs under his breath, which makes Mikey’s stomach do a surprised, uncomfy flip. Leo hears it, and his expression shutters so fast it’s almost unnatural, everything replaced by a wide, plastic smile. 

“Gotta get my steps in, Miguel,” he says, shoving his kit back through a portal and wiggling his shoulders so Donnie knows he’s about to stand up. “This figure doesn’t come free, you know.” 

He adds an imaginary hair-toss. Raph looks like he didn’t expect anything else. Mikey thinks he must not have seen that expression on Leo’s face. 

But it’s all Mikey can think about the entire drive home. That gulf between fourteen and fifteen where apparently everything changes. 

——

Something has been wrong for awhile now, ever since Pops made Leo the leader and turned their team inside out, but Mikey figured they were due for an adjustment period. Raph had a hard time letting go of responsibility and Leo had a hard time picking it up, but once they found their way back onto the same page everything would be okay. Gravity would keep them together. They didn’t know any other way to be. 

Except it’s been weeks and the arguing is only getting worse and it’s not even really that much fun to patrol anymore in the first place. Mikey usually loves going out at night with his brothers, finding bad guys to beat up and getting those ninja endorphins, but he’s sort of starting to feel about it the way kids in daytime television feel about homework. He just wants to get it over with.  

Tonight Leo is being a little silly. Flubbing jumps and slow to catch his cues. Once he even missed a sixteenth-story ledge and would have fallen—which was not funny at all and a bad joke to make—but Donnie’s arm shot out and caught him so smoothly that it had to have been planned. Like a trust fall! Or maybe twin telepathy actually is a thing and Donnie was just tricking them with all those printouts he handed around that one time to prove Leo wrong. Either way, Leo wasn’t actually in danger. 

Mikey loves silly Leo, and played right along into his antics, but maybe he shouldn’t have. Raph was ticked off and, by the time Leo missed that ledge, fed-up. He cut the evening short and told Leo to just portal them home. 

That’s when the wary little thing in the back of Mikey’s brain pokes its head up out of the ground. That’s when he realizes something was Wrong wrong. Capital wrong. 

Because Leo says, “Your wish is my command, my liege,” with the right amount of theater kid gusto, and that’s normal. He summons a pretty spinning blue portal as tall as Raph stood at the shoulder and hops through first, leaving Raph to make a hissing noise against his teeth and duck his head to follow, and that’s normal. Mikey glances over at Donnie, who doesn’t look up from where his snout is buried in his phone to wave Mikey ahead of him, and that’s normal, too.

It’s easy to take for granted how amazing Leo’s portals are. With two steps, Mikey walks off a cool rooftop in Brooklyn and into their warmly lit living room. He can hear Pops’ telenovelas from the projector room and smell the beef burgundy he’d left to simmer on the stove for dinner. 

And distracted as he is, listening to the familiar rising and falling cadence of Raph’s worn-out lecture about responsibility and watching the pretend-listening bob of Leo’s head, Mikey still sees it when the portal wobbles as Don steps through. 

Maybe it wouldn’t have seemed like a big deal, except Leo’s face goes white and his whole body stills, and the coloring of his stripes starts to tinge toward neon like his ninpo is about to light up. 

And that’s not normal at all. 

It was just a split-second of destabilization, and Donnie moves through it just fine, but Leo holds his breath and keeps the portal open until his twin is right beside him. 

“This is literally what I’m talking about,” Raph says, that worried wrinkle in his brow deeper than ever. “Leo please listen when I talk just this once. If you’re not paying attention someone could get hurt. What if the portal just then had—”

“Woah, did you hear that?” Leo says right over him, cupping a hand at the side of his head as if to listen for something. “There’s another super riveting lecture about everything I do wrong happening in my room. I’m gonna catch that one instead. Thanks for this, though.”

He slips away as easily as if he was part eel instead of turtle and books it out of the living room in a way that manages to look like a casual saunter instead of the full-steam retreat it actually is. 

Raph looks stunned at the blatant dismissal, and then hurt, and then it all boils together into something furious. He’s never actually angry with them. It’s just that he cares so, so much and sometimes he has nowhere to put it. Sometimes it becomes something too big for him to hold. 

Right in that moment, he seems ready to grab Leo and rattle him until he ran out of nonsense and had no choice but to listen. 

“I’ll handle this one, Raphala,” Donnie says abruptly. “I’m the one who almost got spliced, so I’m the one who gets to have the first opinion about it.”

Since the twins’ whole schtick is getting each other into and out of trouble with very little regard for anything else, Raph looks reasonably skeptical of him ‘handling’ it. But Don is already following Leo out of the room, and the potential of another argument is removed neatly by his exit. 

Raph deflates a little bit. He’s the biggest strongest person Mikey knows, but suddenly he looks small. 

“Hey, Raphie, wanna help me dish up dinner?” Mikey says, smiling up at him. Anxious to banish that uncharacteristic smallness with the full force of his own personality if that’s what it takes. “You take dad his plate and I’ll wrangle Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Lee.”

Raph smiles back at him, at least, and carefully carries two big servings of stew served over garlic mashed potatoes to the projector room. Pops will probably rope him into watching his shows and maybe Raph will actually take a minute to relax when it’s just him and dad and hearty comfort food and bad TV. 

Mikey ladles up two more bowls and takes a couple of individually-wrapped Gansito snack cakes out of his stash for good measure. It’s a sweet treat kind of night, he thinks. He’ll have to remember to get one for Raphie, too. 

Leo’s room is empty, and so is Donnie’s. Since Mikey doesn’t know where any of Leo’s secret hiding places are in their new lair, he only hesitates for a second before checking the lab. 

Oh, Mikey thinks, holding the tray in numb hands. Something is Wrong. 

The twins are both on the sofa that got shoved into the corner of the room as a compromise to Don’s occasional all-nighters, turtle-piled under a weighted blanket. Leo’s wearing noise-canceling headphones, using Don’s leathery carapace as a pillow. His mask is dangling from one sleep-loose hand, so the big dark circles under his eyes stand out on his pale face. 

Donnie’s still awake, tapping away on his phone. He doesn’t look up at the doorway that Mikey is standing in, but he does use one hand to sign a subtle, silent “no.” No talking? No company? Probably both. 

Swallowing hard, Mikey lifts the tray he’s holding up a little higher. That does get Don to look at him, and his second-oldest brother softens at whatever Mikey’s face must look like. He nods toward the desk, and signs, “Thanks, M. We’ll eat before it gets cold.” 

The only thing Mikey wants in the entire world at this moment is to crawl onto the sofa with them. He would probably get away with it, he doesn’t think there’s ever been a time in his entire life he wasn’t truly welcome in a turtle pile. But Donnie said no. And Leo looks so tired. 

He puts the tray on the desk, ninja-quiet, and leaves again without a whisper. 

His phone chimes in his pocket once he’s out the door, and he pulls it out to find a text from Don that says He’ll be okay, Angelo. He just needs to get some sleep. 

Leo’s relationship with sleep has always been hot-and-cold. Usually he’s pretty honest about it when it gets bad, in the sense that he lets them see how exhausted he is instead of hiding it behind a goofy, cocky exterior. 

Remembering that missed ledge from earlier tonight causes ice to form in Mikey’s stomach. That wasn’t a trust fall at all, was it?

Biting his lip, Mikey sends back, Would a visit from Dr. Feelings help?

The typing dots appear, but only for a second. The reply comes swiftly: Not this time. 

——

That night Mikey tosses and turns for an hour before finally pulling a move he hasn’t in ages and slinking over to Raph’s room. He lingers uncertainly in the open door, because he doesn’t know how little you have to be to be allowed to crawl into Raphie’s nest and let him hug the world all better. Mikey had thought that was a forever thing, but he can’t get Leo’s face on the rooftop out of his head. 

Raph is still awake, playing on his Switch, and notices the shadow that passes in front of the doorway instantly. He sets his game down and lifts one arm in automatic welcome and Mikey crosses the room at a run and slams into the embrace as if it’s an offer that might expire. 

And it might. Mikey had never really thought it would before. 

“Hey, big man,” Raph says, his voice a comforting rumble that rights all wrongs. “Couldn’t sleep?”

Mikey nods, and picks at a loose thread in the pink comforter, and then says, “Will you still carry me when I’m fifteen?”

“What? Of course I will.”

“What about sixteen?”

“You’re never gonna be too big for Raph to carry, Mike. I’ll always be the biggest, big enough to haul you bozos around whether you like it or not.”

Some frightened little creature inside Mikey’s chest loosens the grip it has on his heart with its teeth. But it doesn’t fully let go. And Mikey can’t help but ask, “What if we argue a lot and stop being friends?”

The idea of not being friends with his brother is enough on its own to make him want to burst into tears. He has no idea how Leo isn’t just constantly bawling. Then he remembers the circles under Leo’s eyes that don’t show when he’s wearing his mask and the way Donnie always follows him out of the room now. And he thinks it’s silly of him to forget that pain shows itself differently from one person to the next. 

Hurt chases understanding across Raph’s expression, and he squeezes Mikey a little tighter to his plastron. 

“I’ll love you no matter what, Angie. You and Leo and Don are forever for me, okay? If the world ends tomorrow, I’ll still be somewhere, loving my little brothers. It’s too big to just disappear.”

Mikey is fourteen years old and too old to be coddled anymore but not too old that he doesn’t trust in Raphael with his entire heart and then some. If Raph believes Mikey could walk to the moon and back, Mikey believes his biggest brother could lift up the whole sky and hold it for as long as he wanted to, if he wanted to.

Laying there under the warm pink blanket, with Raph’s twinkling nightlight in the corner and the sound of dad’s TV down the hall, Mikey thinks about things that last forever, things you can never outgrow—inside jokes between siblings, skilled hands wrapping sprained ankles, a door standing open in the dark in case you couldn’t sleep. 

Then he thinks about those looks on Raph’s and Leo’s faces when they thought no one was watching. How lonely they’ve both been without their best friend on their team. 

“Can you do me a favor tomorrow?” he asks before he can think better of it. “Scoop Leo.”

“Mikey…” Raph sighs, not wanting to say what Mikey already knows he’s thinking. That Leo would hate it, that it would cause another argument, that he doesn’t want to fight first thing tomorrow morning. He doesn’t want to fight at all. 

“Don’t—don’t do it like you’re mad,” Mikey adds quickly, heart thumping. “Like you caught him sneaking out or you need to keep him in one place so dad can check his stitches but he keeps slipping away like a buttered noodle. Do it like—like you missed him. Pretend he’s been gone for a long time and he just got home. And you’re happy to see him.”

Once Leo went away with April to an overnight camp. It was a nerd camp, he’d said gleefully, bright eyes scanning the brochure, and there was a chess league! April’s mom was a volunteer organizer and promised Splinter that it was a relatively small, local event, and that Leo would be safe. 

It was the longest the brothers had ever been apart before. Even though they texted and video called near-constantly, by the end of the week it had felt like they’d misplaced a limb somewhere. When Leo finally swanned into the lair he had bags of souvenirs for all of them and a hundred stories to tell and the first thing he did was drop everything and run straight into Raph’s open arms. The way he always does. The first thing he always does. 

Raph is looking at Mikey in the semi-dark with unreadable eyes. It takes a minute, seconds crawling by so slowly Mikey starts to worry Raph will say no. He builds up all these new fears, a subdivision development springing up where problems will live in rows of cookie-cutter houses and pay outrageous mortgages and never truly go away again. 

But then Raphie says, “Alright, Ange. But you’re dealing with the fallout.”

He sounds very tired, and a little like he’s just humoring someone who doesn’t know better, but a win is a win. 

The next day, when Leo is the last to wander into the kitchen even though he was probably the first one awake, and does that thing where he manages to not look a single person in the eye while otherwise acting totally normal, Raph frowns at him. 

Mikey can tell it’s concern. He thinks Leo expects it to be something else, and manages to find whatever he’s looking for even if it’s not really there.

But then Raphael glances over at Mikey, and Mikey holds out his arms and mimes a big scoop. Setting his jaw as though he’s about to go head-to-head with the Shredder again, Raph scoots his chair back from the table, rounds it, and then lifts Leo clean off his feet. 

Leo’s eyes are huge and he squirms like a hooked fish, but then Raph says, all bright and charming, “Look what the goat-man dragged in! How’d you sleep, champ?”

“Fine,” the slider says cautiously, slowing his escape attempts, but still looking like he half-expects this to be a trap. When Raph hums and nothing else happens, some little piece of his guard goes down and he adds, “Good. Slept, um, right through my alarm actually. Was worried I was gonna miss Chef Miguel’s magic.”

“Yeah? If you’re still feeling tired after breakfast, you should catch another nap. You know Raph worries.”

They’re each braced for the other to hurt their feelings. But being inside Raph’s arms when he wants to hold you is the best place in the whole world to be. Nothing bad exists and nothing has the power to make you feel small or ugly or scared. It’s just you and this big guy who loves you, who loves to carry you. 

For the first time in weeks, Leo’s plastic smile wobbles and slips. He blinks and his eyes get wet and he reaches up to sling his arms around his big brother’s neck. The way to get inside Leo’s head, past all the anxieties, past that constant guard, is to hold him and sound happy to see him. He wants so badly to be wanted. Mikey can’t understand how someone as smart as Leo doesn’t know that he already is. 

“I know,” Leo chokes out, “I’m sorry.”

Raph couldn’t have looked more stunned if someone had taken this moment to dump a bucket of ice water on his head. But in true Raph fashion, his arms tighten around his little brother automatically, readjusting their hold so that Leo is more secure. The shape of it transforms from quick hug into steadfast embrace. 

Mikey’s biggest brother, who could hold up the whole sky, will stand there and hold Leo together until the heat death of the universe, or until Leo lets go. 

“Hey,” Raph says gently, “how about we hit the arcade later, just the two of us? We’re overdue a jam session and I’ll bet there’s a karaoke machine with our names on it.” 

“As long as you promise not to attempt Mariah Carey, I’m down for anything, big guy.” Because Leo would follow Raph anywhere, has followed Raph everywhere, and they both seem to be remembering that in real time. 

It really must have thrown Leo’s world out of orbit to be the one pushed out in front and expected to lead, with no prior warning or discussion. A jam session is exactly what the two of them need.

“I’ll make French toast for breakfast, but only if we can agree on toppings,” Mikey pipes up from the kitchen, as casually as if his whole heart isn’t a painful, hopeful thing lodged in his throat.

“Raspberry jam,” Leo muffles from somewhere between Raph’s shell and shoulder, “or I’m rioting.”

Raspberry jam and cream cheese stuffed French toast is Raphael’s well-known, all-time favorite breakfast food. Raph shouldn’t be surprised that Leo knows that, so the surprise must come from somewhere else. The last couple of weeks of stress and hurt and frustration go sliding off his spiky shell like water, all replaced by relief. The worry and confusion are still there, but those weigh practically nothing in comparison. He smacks a noisy kiss on the top of Leo’s head, grinning brightly when Leo whines and starts half-heartedly trying to noodle away. 

“What’d I tell you?” Donnie says, from his sleepy stake-out in front of the Keurig. “Dr. Feelings is a smart guy, but he doesn’t hold a candle to the smartest guy I know. A Mikey makes everything better.”

Mikey beams at him, the kitchen warm and full and lively, Raph and Leo squabbling playfully by the table, his morning playlist belting out something folky and upbeat, gravity pulling everything back to where it belongs.  

Fifteen doesn’t feel so scary anymore. But maybe Mikey’s okay with taking the long way there, after all. 

[wazzappp]

WERE DOING SPECBIO STUFF AGAIN BABY. Feels fucking good to get back to my roots (i get to close 50 tabs worth of research now. Delightful)

Terminators are made of a Titanium Alloy (Im going with ferrotitanium which is a mix of iron and titanium. They never specify in the movie what the titanium is mixed with so fuck it we ball baby)) skeleton contains limited amounts of Mimetic Polyalloy (fake material used for the terminator in terminator two). Mimetic polyalloy can be hard or flexible and will be used to create new structures that the iron collected from food will later fully establish. This will allow his metal endoskeleton to mimic standard growth that a regular skeleton would have growing up.

When first introduced to the foster system (medical checkups are required once entering the foster system. The police probably do some checkups on Robbie also just to make sure hes okay when they find him), medical tests show that he has anemia, so it’s  recommended he be put on iron supplements. My reasoning is any iron in his blood is almost instantly sent to work on growing his endoskeleton. That means the actual amount of iron left in his blood is pretty low (the opposite of this is hemochromatosis which is when there's too much iron in your blood). I could see him probably trying to stop iron supplements but I think there would be some side effects to convince him to start taking them again. His joints might ache or I could see child terminator Robbie saying some mildly concerning shit like ‘my bones feel hungry’. I also think he might crave foods that are high in iron. Like beef/chicken liver, canned tuna, and seafood. Idk how frequently he could AFFORD these things but yk. The endoskeleton hungers eternal  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Nanobots are used to repair wiring for his nervous system, synthetic muscular system, acts as his immune system and sometimes accelerates healing for his organic systems (organic parts of his muscular system, skin, and nerves). For the most part his organic systems heal on their own at about the same pace as a normal human person. Nanomachines/nanoparticles are fueled by glucose (if Robbie needs work done by the nanobots he might need to eat or crave sugar both before and afterwards). 

He probably has a fairly (?) normal digestive system and circulatory system. The spread of his circulatory system is just more limited because some parts of him don't really need blood. . The primary job of the nanomachines when they aren't busy healing or growing his body is to harvest as much heme iron from the food/supplements he consumes as possible so that it can be repurposed later. His immune system is taken care of by the nanobots so all he has to worry about is red blood cell and plasma production. Similar to adults, most of this takes place in his spine, ribs, skull and breastbone. The red bone marrow is stored inside these metal parts and the red blood cells are then released into his bloodstream. Plasma is created in the liver and also in bone marrow so most of that stays the same

Another fun bit about the endoskeleton:

Bones close to his skin that are in danger of being exposed (knuckles, kneecaps, cheekbones) have a very thin enamel coating to preserve the illusion that they are bones. But underneath it’s all just the same Ferrotitanium.

onto the muscular system

Muscles are laced with a Shape Memory Alloy called Nitinol. A flexible (SURPRISINGLY durable godamn) metal material made of nickel and titanium that reacts to electrical and thermal impulses. It’s already used in the medical field (I can not fucking BELIVE that this is real thats so so so SO fucking cool). Superficial muscles are more organic (80% muscle 20% nitinol) but as the muscles go deeper they become more and more synthetic (20% muscle 40% nitinol 40% titanium wiring for durability). Superficial muscles are more muscle for stealth purposes. If injuries go deeper than anticipated he will still be able to fly mostly under the radar, assuming no wires have been significantly dislodged. If he’s been injured into the deeper layers then there’s no use in trying to lay low anymore. He’s clearly in a combat situation and stealth protocols no longer matter.

ALSO I did some math to try and figure out how heavy Robbie would be with all this metal in his system. Heres the logic for my equation:

CONTENT WARNING. MATH.

About 12 - 15% of your body mass is bone. A person weighing 155 lbs will have about 22lbs of bones. One Cubic centimeter of bones will weigh about 1.85 grams.

Ferrotitanium alloy is 4.5 grams per cubic centimeter. 

The equation 1.85/4.5 = 22/x in which x is his new bodyweight. Multiply 1.85 by 2.43 to get 4.5. Because the equation must be symmetrical you then multiply 22 by 2.43 to get 53.5 lbs.

With all of the extra metal in his system, I think it would be reasonable to assume that he LOOKS like he should be about 155 lbs but his actual weight is around 250 lbs. I have. NO idea how doctors are going to deal with this.

Had some VERY FUN hypotheticals from @moosemonstrous (thank you for proofreading my insanity once again <3) about his body shedding as much water as possible and like. shriveling his organs to drop as much weight as possible before doctors appointments. But given that he is a cyborg and not an android I do think that might kill him so Im thinking??? Maybe people just assume the scale is broken.... every single time he's in.

IDK man if they have access to his wack ass file then his breaking the conservation of mass is the least weird thing in there.

OKAY YAYYYYY NOW THAT I HAVE HIS INTERWORKINGS LAID OUT I CAN DO FUN CYBORG GORE!!!!! <33

[reikunrei]

feeling incredibly averse to posting this but i'm just gonna drop my kofi link here in case anyone wants to help me get out of my increasingly shitty situation living with my parents

more info below ig

after having given my parents nearly $100k over the last four years, i'd love to be able to actually leave. my future job situation is still up in the air (i've submitted for about a dozen positions and the only one i've heard back from and interviewed for hasn't gotten back to me yet), and i haven't been able to build up any savings because, again, i was (and still am) helping my family afford rent and bills, and probably the taxes my parents are behind on, but if i think about that, i'll get too angry. no joke, i've given my family, at the bare minimum, 85% of my income over the last 4 years. the rest of it has gone toward medical stuff and, now, my car

at this point, with the combo of my mom refusing to lower her standards and my dad's seeming refusal to hunt for a new full time job, i don't see how they won't continue to bleed me dry. my dad even has a bad habit of taking money out of my old savings account that he's a joint owner on or whatever from when i got it set up when i was 16, even when i stopped actively putting money in it, so now any time it gets its automated $1 transfer from my checking account, he'll just take that $1 without consulting me. i'm not exaggerating, even if it has $1-2 in it, it'll be gone within a week

i've even put off starting on testosterone because of this. i wanted to start it like 3 years ago, but kept putting it off because of money issues and wanting to save as much as possible. i got really close to actually starting it this year, but because of how messy everything is, i put it off again bc having one more thing on my plate, especially when my parents are already weird about me being trans, was not something i wanted to deal with

not to mention, we're still currently not living under a lease in our house that we're, as far as i'm aware, still tens of thousands of dollars behind in rent on (again, my dad refuses to disclose our financial position honestly with any of us) and it's developed many, many issues bc the landlord, even before we were behind on rent, is shit and refuses to actually fix anything. and my dad loves to just ignore things unless we beg him to do something

i'd love to be on my own (in the, much more affordable, midwest) by the end of summer. i by no means want to rely on donations and i have other avenues i'm working with to make money (i still have my current full time job, but i'm going through my old belongings and selling a lot online), but i'll take any help i can get atp because i'm truly at my wits end. i'd start doing art commissions again if i could, but doing that from 2020-2022, partially on top of my full time job, absolutely wrecked my right hand and i'm still in enough pain that i can't make it a regular activity

idk how much else there is to say. there's more i could say but... i don't really wanna air all my dirty laundry here. i'm miserable in so many ways and it's just become increasingly clear that my dad expects me to constantly cover his ass. my younger brother gives money too, but he manages to go on big cross-country and overseas trips with friends, so i think i've been stuck with the burden of giving the most money. there's so many more things going on in the world rn and everyone is stretched thin so i don't expect much, or anything, but. idk. might as well throw it out there, right?

i’ve also since taken down the gfm i set up last year when we got our first eviction notice bc, while we still need the money, i don’t feel right keeping it up for multiple reasons, including “i don’t want to give any of that money to my family” and it feels too… serious to keep it up when i could just throw out my kofi instead

i just want to make sure i have some sort of safety net to catch me if i move before anything job-wise is finalized. i need to be able to afford a place to live for at least a month so i can job-search while physically being in the area i wanna move to, which would ultimately make it easier for me to find a job at all. i'm working on being more firm with giving less money so i can actually have the means to move and be safe and comfortable, but... that never lasts long in this house

anyway. that's it, i guess. thanks for reading

[brokenpieces-72]

Task force 141! Gangster x Reader

Truth or Pain

This is part 3. Part 2

Leave a comment if you want to be tagged in future posts.

You’re hanging out with Soap again and he watches you work on a your newest piece. You enjoy moments like these. You feel like yourself, and like you aren’t forcing your part. Soap was impressed with your skill. You were very good with your hands, and your work was great demonstration.

“You want to try?” You offer Soap a brush.

“You think I can make somethin as good as you?” He asks taking up your offer.

“Try it.” You say. A small voice in the back of your head suggests getting him on vandalism but you ignore it. He takes the brush and adds a bit of colour to wall… in the form of a very crude doodle of himself.

You finally take a break with him, warming your hands on the hot cup of cocoa.

“So what exactly do you guys do? Like I’ve seen you guys work but… I don’t get it.” You say, breaking the silence.

Soap thinks for a moment before answering. “We do what needs to be done.”

When he looks at you to see your reaction he finds you silently asking for more details.

“The Los Voqueros sell medicines. Simple stuff that’s not easy to afford. Painkillers, allergy meds. Ya know Farah, woman that ‘elped ‘ide us when those cops tried to grab us? She’s a bit of a vigilante, keepin some big corporation from ruin’in her neighbourhood.

“The problems with the world canna be solved by cops and white collars. They don’a’ven want to. We do. We set the world right, and we ‘ven ave a little fun on the side.”

He gives you a soft elbow to the arm. You smile. But underneath there’s a few things going on you’re not telling him. He’s given you two statements. One that can be used on Farah Karim, for aiding two criminals. The other could start a hunt for the Los Voqueros and their shipments of drugs. It wasn’t what you had been sent to find but it was a start. You might actually be taken seriously at the precinct, people might actually start having faith in your abilities. But… Farah had shown you and a few others kindness and trust. Her neighbourhood was constantly being targeted for demolition and businesses. You knew how expensive medications and drugs could be, you had needed them before yourself. As you sat there continuing to sip your warm drink, you started to ask yourself if this was truly what you wanted to do. The cops were bringing down people who were just trying to help. Sure they clubbed and partied on the side but hell, who doesn’t take some personal time?

You decide to keep the information to yourself for now, after all, Graves would only ask for a report on Soap and Ghost. Farah and Alejandro weren’t the priority.

You think back to your father. He was trying to help too. But it got him killed. You couldn’t let a bunch of gangs run free just because they were trying to help. The man sitting next to you had killed people before. He beat up good cops, stole shipments of drugs, and made it difficult for businesses to expand and grow the economy.

The rest of the day goes by fairly casually. You don’t give Graves anything on Soap, because well, he hadn’t given you anything. Nothing you could prove. Graves is frustrated, but he’s honestly too tired to care and leaves soon after.

A few more weeks go by and try to keep tabs on everything you can. The Los Vaqueros approved of the artwork you came up with, and now they were deciding where they wanted it. Hopefully they would give you a chance to be alone to work on it and you could find more evidence. Soap had mentioned helping with recent shipments so maybe you could get something from there.

The location was an old and empty warehouse, practically deserted. Alejandro and Rudolfo went with you to the location to show you where they wanted it.

It was more like where they wanted you though. Next thing you know, Rudolfo has you pinned against the wall while Alejandro is yelling questions.

“What are you looking for?”

“The fuck are you talking about?!” You yell. Rudolfo holds you tighter by your jacket. “Why are you here? What the fuck you want?!” Alejandro is pissed, but you have to stay quiet. You can’t give them anything.

“For the fucking mural! You asked me to!” You choke out. Rudolfo is ordered to drop you and you hit the floor, coughing.

Alejandro is nowhere close to being done with you. A good man he may be, but with traitors? Few could tell you how that went.

You’re met with a boot against your ribs as a warning.

“Why are you really here… out with it.” He warns.

“I don’t kno-“ before you can finish you get the wind kicked out of you.

“You know damn well why you’re here…tell me now.” He orders. Rudolfo keeps an eye out while Alejandro continues interrogating you.

“What are you talking about?!” You manage after regaining some air. He holds up his phone and shows a photo of you… in uniform.

“What are you looking for?” He asks. There’s some lenience as he lets you get to your hands and knees. Alejandro helps you stand by grabbing you and pinning you to the wall again. You try to kick him off, your heart pounding in your chest and ears ringing in your head.

“Start talking!”

“I don’t know what you mean!”

“I know you’re a fucking cop!” He yells. “You’re undercover! I know you are, so start talking! Who else is undercover? What are you trying to find?!”

“Get off!” You yell back. At this point you’d have enough evidence for assault, but right now you were fighting to remain an assault victim.

“Not until you tell me who else is undercover with you.” Alejandro demands, you get punched in the gut making you cough. “Tell me and you walk away!”

“I…don’t…” another hit, this one to the face. There’s footsteps but you barely notice them. He grabs you by the jaw and gets close.

“Talk and I won’t tell Soap… you walk away and nothing happens…”

“…I’m a cop…” you admit. You were scared. You didn’t know how he knew. You weren’t supposed to say anything. When he brought up Soap though… Soap was the only one who seemed to put any trust in you. Losing that would hurt more than anything Alejandro could do to you.

“Where are your partners? Who are they?” Alejandro asks, his rage reducing a bit. Before you can answer though you hear a thick Scottish accent shouting and Alejandro pulled off of you.

You fall back to the ground and see Soap and Alejandro arguing with Rudolfo nearby trying to break them apart. You can barely make out what they’re saying, but eventually two hands grip your arms and help you to your feet just as Soap turns to you.

“Come on kid.” You hear a deep British voice say and you look to see Ghost is holding you, and lead you out of the warehouse while Soap follows not long after.

Ghost gets you to a car, telling you to get in the back which you do and you sit patiently for Soap to come along and sit in the passenger’s seat. They don’t say anything to you, just start driving.

As they get on the road Soap speaks up.

“Where we takin the cop?” He asks.

Your heart plummets when he says it. The way he says it tells you he’s pissed. With you.

“I’m taking Y/N to a hide out. The boss can deal with them.” Ghost said.

Soap looks back at you in the rear view and you look away. Not out the window, but more at the door. Your body was sore from Alejandro, and you were tired. You were too nervous to fall asleep.

When you get to the hideout, you sit up so Ghost can open the door. He jerks his head signalling for you to get out of the vehicle, and you do, keeping your head down. You can’t look at either of them.

Ghost leads you inside with Soap following behind you. He opens the door telling you to sit down, before stopping Soap from going inside and shuts the door.

“The fuck is this?” Soap asks annoyed.

“You’re emotional MacTavish.” Ghost tells him.

“Have fuckin right to be. We trusted ‘em and-“

“They were doing their job.” Ghost finishes the sentence.

“They used us.”

“You knew this was possible… like father like child.” Ghost reminds him. Soap is still pissed and kicks the ground hard in frustration. Ghost just folds his arms, and leans in front of the door frame letting Soap get his colourful Scottish phrases rattle off while tossing and kicking anything he could get his hands on.

You can hear them from outside and you consider running off, running away and not looking back. Soap and his men had given you a chance, a chance you had been waiting for. Soap was your friend, and he would defend you to no end. Any of his men tried to get handsy or get too drunk and go off he was beside you, jabbing back at them. He talked you up to Rudy and Al, assured Farah you were a good person, kept you close to his side… you start to wonder if it had all been for the case, or if you had done it because you felt like you were a part of something for once.

Ghost soon comes back inside, Soap is nowhere to be seen.

“You broken?” He asks. You fight your tears and shake your head.

“Take your jacket off and roll up your shirt.” He orders. You slowly stand and do as he says, showing a couple bruises. Ghost sighs and gets an ice pack from his freezer handing it to you along with a rag. You take it already knowing what to do, while he pulls up a chair and sits in front of you.

“What’s your name?” He asks.

“Y/n… y/n l/n.” You say shifting a little as you placed the ice pack to one of the bruises.

“…you’re a cop.” He says. You nod, despite the statement being rhetorical.

“Soap was aware that could be the case… given your father.” He says. You look at Ghost.

“You…”

“We knew your dad. All of us, including the boss. Good man.” He said as if trying to end the discussion. You two sat in silence for a bit while you mulled over what he said. Your father was a cop, did he do the same thing? Go undercover? Did Graves know?

“Keep the pack.” Ghost says standing up. You follow him to the car and he takes you back to your apartment. Before you exit the car he gives you a piece of paper.

“Text this for a ride.” He says. You take it.

“Could you tel-“

“No.” He says. “Tell Soap yourself.”

You nod and leave the car and go inside to your apartment. It’s late, almost midnight and god knows how long Graves has been waiting.

You knock on your own door and Graves soon opens it. When you walk in you hardly pay him any mind as he’s demanding to know where you’ve been. He keeps asking even while you’re getting some painkillers for your soreness and now headache from Graves.

“Nothing happened.” You say.

“Somethin happene-“

“Nothing… got into a fight that was it.” You say.

“You start it?” He asks.

“…no.”

“Who did?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter sergeant, now start talking!”

“I don’t know anything!” You yell. Your whole body tensed as it felt like you were at the warehouse getting questioned again. You flinched when he got closer. You clenched your fists digging the nails into your palms.

“Sergeant this is getting ridiculous. I have half a mind to take you off this case.”

“Then do it…” you mutter. At this point you don’t care. You’re in pain and this case made everything you had started to care for fall apart. What had Graves honestly done except tell you, you weren’t ready and remind you of the expectations you had being your father’s kid? Soap knew your dad, and never once reminded you of living up to him.

“What?” Graves looks at you stunned.

“Do it. Take me off the case. It’s probably for the best.” You say shrugging. Graves looks at you pressing his lips together. He shook his head.

“Your fath-“

“I don’t give a fucking damn about my father or how I’m his disappointment of a kid okay? You’re right I’m a fucking joke being his kid.”

“I’ve given you a chance to prove yourself!” Graves argues.

“And what have I done? Nothing! I’m a glorified tagger that’s what you said right?! Fine! Then I’ll be one! You gonna arrest me then?” You’re staring him down now. He just looks back, hiding his surprise. If Graves was being honest, he was tempted to do so.

“…I’ll be back in the morning.” He says and leaves your apartment. As soon as the door closes your pain opens. You’re hurting, he can tell. Something happened that scared you and that’s all he sees. He doesn’t know what’s going on deeper. The act was working but on him. The act of joining a gang in order to get closer, but that wasn’t an act to you. Not anymore. You clean yourself up, apply ice to your bruises, and stare at your father’s badge. How much did he know? How much did any of them know? You keep asking questions the whole night.

Price is sitting at a booth in a restaurant going over some paperwork when Johnny strides over and sits in the booth across from him. Price finishes the sentence he was reading and looks up.

“You knew this could happen.” Price says calmly.

“Don’t fuckin remind me…” Soap grumbles.

“How is l/n?” Price asks. “Simon told me he sent her home.”

“He did… Alejandro got to her before I ever could.” Soap comments.

“Yeah well, from what you told me, she won’t be for long. She has my number and if she was talking cops would be knocking.”

“Now what?” Soap asks.

“We wait.” Price tells him.

Taglist : @H0n3y_L3m0n

[nebulablakemurphy]

Moves & Countermoves (Part 19)

Summary: No one ever wins the games, even fourteen years later, Y/N is still playing. Trigger warning: discussions of trauma surrounding ‘desirable’ victors.

Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18

“Tell me about the stairs,” Dr. Aurelius says.

Y/N stares at him blankly, the stairs.

He waits a moment, tapping his pen to paper. “At the request of your husband, you will be issued a nightlock pill, to use in the event that you are captured.”

Y/N nods. One of the stipulations to Haymitch agreeing to her deployment, on this mission to rescue Peeta.

‘Show me you can reach it with your mouth.’ He tested the accessibility of her suit’s pill pocket, rigorously. ‘Show me you can still reach it with your hands behind your back.’

It isn’t something he wants her to use, but knowing that whatever Snow has planned for her would make Peeta’s captivity look like child’s play…

“By President Coin’s orders, I cannot release this… medication unless you are of sound mind.”

“You have reason to believe I’m not?” Y/N asks.

“One of your former guards told me you asked if anyone had ever jumped from the elevator.” Aurelius purses his lips.

“It was one time!” Y/N waves a hand, “and it was a joke.”

“You have a dark sense of humor.”

“You would too.”

The therapist affords her a soft smile, “you may be right. Even still, you are my patient. I need to act in your best interest. So please, tell me what happened on the stairs.”

Y/N takes a deep breath, “it’s kind of a blur. Everyone was pushing, yelling, especially after the upper levels were damaged and the rain started coming down.”

“How did you feel?”

“I felt…worried, I guess.”

“In what way?”

“About Haymitch, Madge and the kids. Worried about what was happening to Peeta. Worried about getting Katniss into the bunker.”

He jots this down.

“That was a normal response.” Y/N snaps.

“Very much so,” the doctor agrees, “not every note I make is a bad one.”

Y/N crosses her arms.

“Did you worry for yourself? Your own safety?”

You’re supposed to say yes.

“There is no right answer, Y/N.”

“There’s an answer that gets me to Peeta and one that doesn’t.”

“True,” he shrugs, “but I trust you not to lie.”

“You shouldn’t.” Y/N narrows her eyes. “I’m a good liar, I’ve been doing it since I was fifteen.”

“How do you feel about death? Is it something you long for, or run from?”

“If I die, my kids lose their mother, my husband loses his wife, my sister loses her sister. The list goes on. So it really doesn’t matter how I feel about death. All I know is that I cannot die.”

“Yet you think you could bite down on this pill?” He presents the dark purple capsule.

“As a last resort. If I have fought tooth and nail and I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I can’t get free? I could.” Y/N decides.

Dr. Aurelius nods, holding the nightlock out to her. “Best of luck.”

————————————————————————

Haymitch curses Katniss’ name, as he shuffles through the crawl space she’s gone to hide in, after refusing to make the propo saying thirteen survived Snow’s attack.

Have kids, they said. It will be fun, they said.

Though none of his biological children have forced him to squeeze in such a tight space, parenthood is not for the faint of heart.

He plops down beside her with a sigh, “so this is the end, huh? I guess we’re just gonna hide down here forever.”

“I can’t be the mockingjay,” Katniss chokes out.

“Not the mockingjay,” Haymitch tosses a bit of hair away from her face, “just Katniss.”

She blinks at him, warily.

“Look, I know I’m not good at this pep talk stuff. That’s Y/N’s department.”

“She doesn’t want to see me,” Katniss understands.

“She spent the morning getting cleared by her shrink.”

“Cleared for what?”

“They’re going to rescue Peeta.” Haymitch tells her.

“What?”

“The dam went down in district five, took out most of the power to the Capitol. Knocked out their signal defense, Beetee’s inside their system, reeking all kinds of havoc. The window is open to us, for how much longer? I don’t know, I guess until the Capitol can get the power back on.” Haymitch explains.

“And Coin?”

“I can never fully support that woman. But Plutarch got word that Peeta and the others are in the tribute center. With the power out, Coin sees this as an opportunity. She knows that Peeta is the Capitol’s weapon, the same way you’re ours. And as opposed to having you two pointing at each other, she’s going to get him.”

“I have to go help them.” Katniss springs to life.

“Woah, hey,” Haymitch reaches out a hand to stop her. “What’re you just gonna jump out of the vent and go storm the Capitol? Besides it’s already underway. Six soldiers went in, volunteer only. Y/N, Gale, Boggs and three others.”

“You just let her go?” Katniss frowns.

Haymitch admits, “she’s not the type of person you ‘let’ do things. But you know how that is, sweetheart. Between the two of you,” he lets out a low whistle, “I’m exhausted.”

————————————————————————

Madge breaks her dinner roll in half. Splitting it between Everest and Arista, the same way she’s watched Y/N and Haymitch do since they got here. Making sure little bellies are full, before their own.

Pollux approaches, motioning to the seat across from Madge, at the metal mess hall table. He sets down his tray and pulls out his note pad, to jot a message down. “Is this seat taken?”

“No,” Madge greets him, “please, sit.”

“Hi, I’m Pollux. You’re Y/N’s sister, right?”

Madge nods.

“She keeps your picture in her pocket.” Pollux smiles. “And them.” He points to the oldest children.

Everest’s eyes scan the page. “Our mom told us about you. What happened to you in the Capitol…I’m really sorry.”

“Honey,” Madge runs a hand over his hair.

“Thank you, Everest. It’s nice to meet you. Your mom talks about you all the time, she is so proud.” Pollux turns the page quickly, for more room. “Arista and Daisy too, of course. Your mom loves you all very much.”

With that the children turn back to their meals.

Madge smiles, stabbing at her food with one hand, while patting the baby in the sling. The tray moves and Pollux holds out a hand to stabilize it. “Oh, thank you. It’s ok though, you eat.”

He draws the hand back, long enough to scribble, “I’d offer to hold the baby instead, but I don’t think we’re there yet.”

Madge laughs, “funny.”

“It’s really no trouble.”

Madge shrugs, as he grips the edge of her tray, loosely. Managing his own dinner just fine.

Cressida calls him away, after a while, for Finnick’s live propo, to help jam the Capitol’s airwaves.

“I’ll see you around.”

“I’ll see you.”

————————————————————————

“This is Finnick Odair, winner of the sixty-fifth Hunger Games, coming to you from district thirteen, alive and well. We survived an attack by the Capitol, but I’m not here to give you recent news.”

“Why is Finnick doing a propo?” Katniss wonders, watching the split screen of the control room. The large, right panel is an image of Finnick. Just outside the rubble, where they asked her to film earlier, the sun has set and the lights are trained on him. The left hand side is home to six smaller panels, with the soldier’s helmet cam footage.

“It’s a lot more than that,” Haymitch informs her.

“Beetee’s commandeered the system,” Coin says, proudly.

“They’re down to generator power, so there’s a more limited range of frequencies available to them. I’m filling them all up with Y/N and Finnick. It looks like they’re both live.” Beetee assures Katniss.

“Snow will think she’s still here?” That’s brilliant.

“Not many will see it, but those who do will assume they’re just propos.”

“What they don’t know is that these broadcasts are jamming their entire system with noise. Early defense warnings, internal communications, everything. As long as one or both of the broadcasts are going through, our team should be able to get in and out without being detected.” Beetee assures her.

“You can survive the arena, but the moment you leave, you’re a slave.” Finnick narrates. “President Snow used to sell me, or my body, at least.”

“Mockingjay one, you are twenty seconds from perimeter defense.”

“I wasn’t the only one. If a victor is considered desirable, the president gives them as a reward, or allows people to buy them. If you refuse, he kills someone you love.” Finnick presses on, looking straight at camera.

“Ten seconds.” The hovercraft pilot begins counting down. “Nine, eight, seven, six.”

“Just because a victor is married doesn’t mean they’re safe.”

“Five, four, three…”

“The Capitol’s more generous patrons paid dearly to watch the wedding night, even more to witness the conception of the most beloved children in Panem.”

“Two, one.”

Katniss freezes, surely he doesn’t mean- it couldn’t be. The dress, that stupid dress they crammed her in. Why it upset Y/N so badly. Snow was taunting her.

“No response from perimeter defense, we’re inside Capitol airspace.”

“Yes,” Beetee rejoices.

Haymitch is watching the smaller screen, his jaw tense, doing his best to ignore the eyes that fall on him. Twisting his wedding band around and around. It doesn’t matter what secrets Finnick reveals, so long as he keeps jamming the signal. Keep Y/N safe.

“To make themselves feel better, patrons will offer presents of money or jewelry. But I found secrets to be a much more valuable form of payment.”

“Gear up,” Boggs orders the soldiers on the hovercraft. They are just seconds away from the tribute center. “Masks on.”

Their lenses are tinted for night vision, the red light inside makes Y/N’s heartbeat faster.

“Open the door.” Boggs says, his voice echoing through her headset. “Command, this is team leader, preparing to deploy gas. We will confirm once inside.”

“Such a young man when he rose to power, such a clever one to keep it. How, you may ask, did he do it?” Finnick is captivating, well spoken.

Katniss is hanging off every word.

“One word, poison.”

The timer for the gas grenadines finishes, on Bogg’s stop watch, “get ready to drop.”

Y/N secures her harness to the wire, giving it a firm tug. Descending through the open loading dock, releasing the wires as they reach ground.

“Clear.” Boggs, informs the team. “We’re inside, headed for target number one. Cell B forty-five, lower level two C.”

“So many deaths to well known adversaries, even allies who were deemed as threats.”

It’s dizzying, giving equal attention to Finnick’s message and the feed from inside the tribute center.

Haymitch is glued to that screen, her screen. Like he wants to reach through and bring her back with him.

Once Peeta’s holding cell is gassed, they are cleared to enter.

“Snow would drink from the same cup, to deflect suspicion. But antidotes don’t always work, which is why he wears roses that reek of perfume. To help cover the scent of sores, in his mouth, that will never heal.”

Poison, Katniss shakes her head to clear it. He’s still talking about poison.

Inside the room is a lab, full of jars, experiments. Cages. Medical equipment, some with blood still visible.

“What the fuck?” Y/N whispers, reaching out to try and make sense of it.

“Abernathy, on me.” Boggs warns, they need to stay focused.

“What is this place?” Gale asks, venturing deeper.

Their screens lights up, all of them at once. Too bright to see.

“Ahh.”

There is a collective hiss, from those in the tribute center. The power’s back on.

“Beetee?” Katniss has a hand flat against her belly, where the worry eats her alive.

“Ma’am, the Capitol air defense is rebooting. It’s coming back online.”

“They must be diverting power from another source, filtering transmissions. Another sixty seconds and we’ll be cut off.” Beetee scowls, typing furiously at the control panel.

“Get them outta there,” Haymitch demands.

“Madame President, should we call back the hovercraft?”

“Broadcast me,” Katniss decides, “if Snow’s watching this, maybe he’ll let the signal in, if he sees me. Put me on the air so he can see me.”

“Yes,” Plutarch snaps a finger. “Yes.”

“Put her on,” Coin agrees.

“Can we still do this?” Haymitch’s hands are shaking as he positions the camera in front of her. “Can we still get in?” Can we still save her?

“Yes, for the moment,” Beetee replies. “The line’s open, he will only see you.”

“Ok, Katniss,” Haymitch steps away. “Go.”

“President Snow.” Katniss says, “President Snow, it’s Katniss.”

The static continues to crackle. No more Finnick, no more footage from the tribute center. Just her.

“President Snow, can you hear me?” Katniss repeats, hoping for a miracle. “I need to speak with you, are you there? President Snow.”

“Miss Everdeen,” his voice is distorted for a moment, until the signal hones in. “What an honor. I don’t imagine you’re calling to thank me for the roses.”

“I never asked for this. I never asked to be in the games.” Katniss reminds him. “I just wanted to save my sister and keep Peeta alive. Let him go and I will stop being the mockingjay. I will disappear and you’ll never have to see me again.”

“You couldn’t run from this anymore than you could’ve run from the games.”

“Please, you’ve won.” Katniss says, “release Peeta and take me instead.”

Snow shakes his head with a smirk. “We are long past the opportunity for noble sacrifice.”

“Then tell me what to do, I’ve always kept my promises. Haven’t I?”

“You said you didn’t want a war, and that’s just what happened. I told you what a fragile thing peace was and still, like a child, you took pleasure in breaking it. I know what you are, I know you can’t see past your narrowest concerns. But please, Miss Everdeen, I doubt you know what honesty is anymore.”

“You asked me to convince you that I was in love with Peeta,” Katniss challenges. “Haven’t I at least done that?”

Snow takes great pleasure in what he’s about to say, it’s written all over his twisted features. “It’s the things we love most that destroy us. I want you to remember I said that.” He pauses. “Don’t you think I know Y/N and your friends are in the tribute center?”

Katniss feels the floor fall out from under her.

“Cut them off.” Snow says, turning away from the screen. It returns to the static hum of nothing.

They had comms back, but now Beetee’s lost them again.

“What happened?” Katniss sobs.

“Boggs, do you read me? Boggs, come in.”

“He knows they’re in there,” Katniss calls to Haymitch. “It’s a trap.”

“Katniss, calm down.” Haymitch whispers.

“We have to get ahold of them, tell them to get out. He knows.”

“There’s no signal, we can’t contact them,” Plutarch sighs.

“No, Haymitch.” Katniss crumbles, “he knew the whole time, he was taunting me! No, Haymitch-”

“No, no, we don’t know that.” Haymitch hushes her, because he has to be strong. He has to be steady, even with his world falling to pieces.

“Did I lose them all tonight? Did I lose them all?”

Haymitch pulls her into a hug. “Shhh,” he smooths down her dark waves, the same way he would his other daughters.

She holds fast, allowing him to comfort her. “Did I lose them?” The cry is muffled against his shoulder.

“Shh,” he sways them, gently.

“No, no.”

“Katniss,” Haymitch breathes, “listen to me. I need you to listen.”

She nods, unable to calm her erratic breathing.

“If Y/N died, I would feel it. I would feel it in my heart, if she was gone and I don’t. If she’s alive, Peeta is alive, Gale is alive. All we have to do is wait.”

————————————————————————

“Systems are back online.” The pilot informs them.

There’s nothing they can do. Communication with thirteen is shut down, no way to get through to Beetee. They’ll either shoot them out of the sky or they won’t. The only way out is through.

Y/N doesn’t mean to, but she holds her breath. Waiting until they clear Capitol airspace to resume a normal pattern.

Of the five other soldiers on this rescue mission, there is one medic. She begins tending Annie, Johanna and Peeta in turn. Starting IV fluids, as they are all dehydrated; unconscious from the gas.

Annie looks like herself, maybe a bit gaunt, but recognizable. Peeta is thin, so thin and covered in bruises. Johanna’s head has been shaved, cheeks hollow and ribs showing. Y/N tosses off her helmet, running both hands over her face.

“Soldier.” Boggs puts a hand to her shoulder. “You did good. We accomplished our goal. Now we can all go home.”

Y/N nods, blinking away tears.

“Take a breather, there’s a separate compartment through there,” he motions to the rear doors. “He’ll need you when he comes to.”

Peeta does not wake for some time, beginning to struggle at his bindings. No, he realizes, it’s not a binding that holds him. It’s a hand. Just one wrapped loosely around his.

It feels familiar, soft. Someone he knew once, it smells of artificial air. She is warm, the space around her is warm, gentle and kind. A second hand strokes his hair, the way he once wished his mother would.

His eyelids begin to flutter open, daring to reveal that he is conscious. If he’s wrong…if it’s not her and they’ve tricked him again, it will be his own fault.

“Peeta,” Y/N says, staring down at him.

He blinks up at her, in the too bright light. His breathing heavy as she tries to move away, to give him space, but he holds her. Squeezing her fingers.

“Peeta, do you know who I am?”

His throat is sore, voice hoarse, from screaming. “Y-yes.”

“Good,” Y/N smiles.

“Where am I?”

“We’re in a hovercraft, on the way to district thirteen.”

Peeta studies her face. There was something…something is missing, something’s wrong. “What happened to the baby?”

“She’s fine.” Y/N assures him. “Keeping her siblings and Haymitch company.”

“You’re all ok?”

Y/N nods, “yeah, honey, we’re all ok. Now we focus on getting you healthy. Ok?”

He doesn’t flee from her touch, only the occasional flinch when he forgets where he is, until she reminds him that he is safe. “You came back for me.”

“Of course I did.”

Y/N leaves him briefly, with the doctors, upon arrival in thirteen. She needs to find Haymitch, tell him she’s ok. And she is running, searching, colliding into him, with such force that they are both sent off balance.

Down to the floor, the dirty, cold floor. But no place has ever felt better. To hold him, for him to hold her and inhale the scent at the crook of his neck.

“Never again.” He pleads, massaging the back of her scalp, like he does when she’s falling asleep. “Never do that to me again.”

“I’m sorry, Haymitch.” She nuzzles the delicate skin of his throat.

“Don’t make me live in a world where you don’t exist.”

‘All I know is that I cannot die.’

Part 20

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