#and the whole procedure confuses me

[skitskatdacat63]

He's so real

"Good points. Um first- I would say podium but I don't really know what this is - so first top 3 in a, um, sort of race?

[adhd-merlin]

I think this is a mega unpopular opinion among arwen enjoyers but I love the banishment scene in 4x09 actually. yes it's tragic, yes it's painful, but it's precisely because of how much they loved each other. its greatly written and bradley and angel are both incredible in it. I haven't managed to find a proper gif set of that scene yet which is a crime

[musical-chick-13]

.

[dcxdpdabbles]

I’ve seen you said you take prompts, so, I had an idea if you’re interested.

So, imagine Danny has an assignment from Clockwork, and as punishment for a prank he pulled where he messed with something and unintentionally pulled CW’s attention away from the timelines for long enough for the Flash to accidentally ruin the timeline, after the timeline was fixed Danny’s forced to go and fix every single broken clock in the solar system. This includes stuff like watches and the batcave clock, maybe a few timed bombs, something on the watchtower, villain bases, etc.. Everyone is extremely confused and concerned as to how and why this eldritch kid with the Mark of Kronos is appearing randomly in their secret bases. Danny isn’t just fixing the clocks, sometimes he pulls Shenanigans depending on where he has to go. If he sees clones in a lab, he’ll call up Dani and they’ll pull off a heist together and she’ll take care of teaching and raising them afterwards. Talons? Danny opens a portal to a section of the infinite realms and gives them their own island after having the yetis go through deprogramming with them and stuff. He sees some stuffy fruitloop batcave? Graffiti and glitter. Lazarus pits? Free smoothie! Of course, he’s respectful to civilians when he bumps into them, giving little unmeltable ice statues to kids, helping people who need it, etc. He fixes a family heirloom watch, bringing tears to a grandson’s eyes. He’s helping people while on his mission, while also messing with any fruitloops he finds. So all of these people around the world are just really confused and being like, what in the world, who/what is this kid?! And sharing stories about him online, painting him as a cryptid or god or whatever. The Justice League and the villains are just Concerned because the kid feels like Kronos, time, and death energy, and have no idea what he’s trying to accomplish. Maybe they think that working clocks give him power, idk, just thinking of the conspiracy boards about Danny as he goes through his punishment and fixes every single clock, including on other planets (Danny practically squealing the whole time as he meets *aliens* in *space*! What cool technology and life!) This is meant to be a punishment but Danny’s living out his dreams. Sure it’s boring at times, but all this traveling is interesting and can help him bond with Dani, so this isn’t much of a punishment for him. He gets to be mischievous and help people out, it’s a win-win. Meanwhile everyone else is thinking that the end of the world is coming and that Kronos has been reborn and is trying to take over the world somehow with clocks. If you’re willing to expand or add to this or make it your own, please do!

I love the idea of Danny just *poof* "Yes, hello, I am the clock-smith" in the middle of, say, the watch tower. Floating up to the clock wall to adjust the time while pulling out a manual on time zones in different parts of space. The watch tower is within Earth's intergalactic waters per se, but which Earth time did he set it to???

Should he anchor it to one place or just place a spell on it to show all the time zones in a cycle? Does Clockwork have a procedure for this?

Meanwhile, all the heroes in the cafeteria are jumping to their feet, some whispering, "A fifth dimension imp!" and others yelling, "It's Kronos!"

Wonder Woman kneeling before the flouting teen does not help these accusations, as she loudly proclaims, "It's an honor to be of service, Lord Kronos."

Danny looked down at her. "Oh hey, an Amazonian."

"Why have you graced us with your presence? Is there anything this lowly servant can help you with?"

".....Can you gather all the watches for me?"

"At once!" And that's how the rest of the heroes almost have heart attacks because Wonder Woman herself is rushing at them at terrifying speed to rip away any form of watch from their bodies. She's on a war path, and no one can stop her. They can see it in her eyes- she'll draw blood if she has to.

They hand over their watches without much of a fight, feeling like they are being mugged. Wonder Woman sprints away to the next few levels- the screams of fellow heroes echoing in her wake.

Batman isn't as willing to cooperate with Kronos until he knows why the god is here, but Danny doesn't give him much of a choice. Mostly because he is uncontainable. Thankfully, he seems fixated on watches (Bruce writes in his notes, "Can gods be autistic???), and he leaves once they are all fixed.

He changes everything to be precisely twenty-nine hours ahead of whatever time they originally were at. Wonder Woman basically barked at everyone to not switch them back, banishing her sword.

From there, Batman does research with his sons and daughters. Tim finds the information of Danny appearing throughout history to fix watches, and Hal finds similar historical text in Oa's archives—usually right before a horrible tragedy. Further investigation shows a horrendous discovery.

Danny adds or subtracts the same number of hours from the told time as before the tragedy.

He was on Mars three hours before the tipping point of the civil war when the tremendous green Martian massacre happened. He added three hours to the green Martian's capital clock tower.

He was there on Krypton twenty-five hours before the planet was swallowed up by a black hole and exploded. Every public area with any form of time telling was changed to twenty-five regardless of whether it matched the planet's time zone.

And now he was here in the clock tower.

Bruce realizes that they have only one hour left, so he commands everyone to rush about and search for what could be the issue. It's only thanks to the Speedsters' quickness that they find the malfunction in the tower's core—the thing keeping them flouting. Had they been one hour too late, it would have caused the Tower to get pulled into Earth's gravitational pull.

Leading to them crashing into Earth- right above the most populated country of the world, possibly killing millions and leaving the world without their heroes.

The tragedy is avoided but now everyone is weary of when or where Kronos will appear.

Meanwhile, Clockwork is watching the timeline, amused that they think Danny is him when, in reality, Danny is just picking a random time and sticking the clocks to match since it's less math.

[latenightreadingpdf]

Knock on the Door - Spencer Reid

₊‧⁺˖⋆ Masterlist ⋆˖⁺‧₊

Summary: In the midst of an intense investigation, Spencer and Derek bring you into protective custody after a disturbing discovery links you to their case. As you navigate the unexpected situation, Spencer’s calm presence offers reassurance, sparking an unexpected connection amid the chaos.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

The quiet street was a far cry from the usual high-stakes BAU scene, but the tension in the air made Spencer’s skin prickle with unease. He glanced at Derek, who was already preparing to knock on another door, exuding his usual calm confidence.

"This one could be a lead," Derek muttered, showing a slight glint of hope in his eyes as he raised his hand to knock. The case had been dragging on, and frustration was growing with each unanswered question.

When the door opened, Spencer noted the faint hint of confusion in your expression. Derek immediately flashed his badge, his tone respectful but firm. "Ma’am, I'm Agent Derek Morgan. This is my colleague, Dr. Spencer Reid. We’re with the FBI."

Your eyes darted between the two of them, registering the serious expressions they wore. "The FBI? What's going on?"

"Have you had any strangers come to your door recently trying to sell you something?"

A flicker of recognition passed over your face, and Spencer leaned in, catching the shift. "Actually, yes,” you said, brows furrowing. “A guy came by yesterday… He gave me his card.”

Spencer and Derek shared a look. "Do you still have that card?" Spencer asked, trying to keep the urgency out of his voice.

"Yeah, I think so. Let me grab it." You turned back into the house, leaving the door partially open, and returned a moment later with a card in hand. As Derek took it from you, he confirmed with a nod that it matched the cards left at the other crime scenes.

You looked between them, anxiety creeping into your voice. "What is going on? Who is this guy?"

Spencer’s voice softened, his gaze meeting yours directly. "We believe he's a dangerous criminal who may be responsible for several recent homicides. His method involves gaining entry to homes under false pretenses."

Your face paled as the weight of his words sank in. Derek placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "We need to take you back to the station to make sure you’re safe. There are some steps we’d like to take to ensure you’re protected while we gather more information."

"Safe? Is he going to try and kill me?"

Derek’s expression turned serious. "We have reason to believe he might try to come back, and it’s important we get ahead of him."

A sense of dread settled over you as you let their words sink in. You followed them to the car, feeling your stomach twist with a mix of fear and disbelief. As you settled into the backseat, Spencer turned to give you a reassuring nod.

“Just so you know,” he began, his tone gentle, “we’ll have officers posted near your home to ensure he doesn’t have the chance to get in. We’re taking every precaution.”

“Thanks,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s just… a lot.”

“Understandable,” Spencer said, glancing at you with a sympathetic look. “We’ll also have you meet with a sketch artist and undergo a cognitive interview. It’s standard procedure, and it might help us learn more about him.”

You looked out the window, processing the reality of the situation. The quiet chatter between Derek and Spencer drifted over you as they discussed possible motives, patterns, and theories. But for now, you were too lost in your own thoughts to make out their words.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

When you arrived at the station, Spencer took a moment to walk you through the cognitive interview process. "It’s designed to help you remember specific details," he explained, his voice calm and assuring. "It might feel intense, but I’ll be with you the whole time."

You nodded, glancing around the bustling police station, feeling a strange mix of curiosity and adrenaline. "Okay, so… I just answer questions, and you’ll be able to get a clearer picture of this guy?"

Spencer gave you a small smile. "Pretty much. Think of it as helping us paint a portrait. Every detail, no matter how small, could be useful."

The interview went smoothly; Spencer’s presence was patient and encouraging, never making you feel pressured to remember something you couldn’t. Afterward, he led you to a small break room, offering you a seat at a worn table with a coffee machine humming nearby.

A few minutes later, Spencer returned with two steaming cups, handing one to you. "Here," he said, "it's not gourmet, but it’ll keep us awake."

You took it gratefully, feeling a sense of normalcy settle in. "Thanks, Spencer." You sipped the coffee, savoring the warmth. "I didn’t expect to spend my afternoon in an FBI station, but… it’s definitely more interesting than my usual routine."

Spencer chuckled, seeming surprised by your laid-back attitude. "Most people aren’t as calm in situations like this."

You shrugged, feeling the weight of the situation but refusing to let it get the best of you. "I don’t know. I figure, if I’m in good hands, there’s no point in freaking out."

As you chatted, Spencer filled you in on some of the behavioral profiling techniques they used, giving you a peek into the mind of the BAU. His eyes lit up as he explained the ways they’d been analyzing the unsub’s behavior to find any possible patterns, and you found yourself genuinely interested, asking questions and absorbing his answers.

"Do you ever wonder why people do these things?" you asked thoughtfully, watching him as he considered your question.

"All the time," Spencer replied, his voice softening as he looked down at his coffee. "But there’s rarely a straightforward answer. The best we can do is study the behaviors and try to make sense of them. Hopefully, it helps us stop them."

A sense of respect grew in you as he spoke, and you found yourself admiring the dedication he had for his work. "That sounds exhausting. Important, but exhausting."

"It can be," he admitted, his gaze meeting yours. "But it’s worth it, especially when it means keeping someone safe. Like now."

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you at his sincerity. "Well, I guess I’m lucky you guys were around."

The door to the break room opened, and Derek poked his head in, giving Spencer a grin. "You two doing all right in here?"

Spencer nodded, standing up to update Derek on the details you’d given during the interview. As they talked, you finished your coffee, feeling a strange sense of calm despite the unusual circumstances.

When Derek turned his attention to you, his gaze softened. "We’re going to have a team set up around your house tonight, keeping a close eye on things. We’ll catch this guy if he shows up."

You nodded, feeling reassured. "Thanks, Agent Morgan. I know you guys are handling it, so I’ll let you do your thing."

Spencer glanced back at you with a small smile. "If you need anything, or have more questions, just let me know."

As they walked you to the main desk, Spencer looked back, his gaze soft. "We'll keep you safe," he assured you once more, his sincerity unmistakable. "Until then, try not to worry. We’re on it."

A small smile tugged at your lips as you nodded. "I trust you," you replied, giving them one last grateful look before they escorted you to a waiting area. And as you waited, you felt a sense of calm, knowing you weren’t facing this alone.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

[vanteguccir]

the new video made me fhink of reader being the one under anestesia telling the whole time how beautiful matt is and asking him hundred times if he loves her and for kisses and maybe confusing chris for matt and them craking up for how funny she is

im sorry i ramble too much

no bc that would be so funny 😭😭😭😭

like, imagine:

"Matt, I love you so much!" Y/N murmured, her sleepy-eyes going to the surgeon beside her and her boyfriend, her arms straight and limp beside her stretched out body above the hospital chair.

Matt smiled genuinely, lifting his right hand and taking hers gently, stroking the soft skin with his thumb, his ears filled with Chris and Nick's low chuckles behind him.

"I love you too, pretty girl. You'll be fine, I promise."

Y/N nodded as quickly as her slow mind could manage, already a little dazed.

"You love me, right? Tell me you love me!" The girl insisted, a confused look settling on her face as she leaned her head against the back of the chair, feeling it heavier than usual.

"Of course I do, baby." Matt responded quickly, a big smile taking up half of his face, enjoying the situation. "I love you lots."

As the anesthesia began to take full effect, Y/N began to become even more disoriented. She looked at Nick and Chris, who were standing next to Matt, and frowned instantly.

"Matt, why are there two more of you here?" She asked confused, trying to lift her head to look at them but to no avail, her eyes only capturing the heads of the brothers.

Nick and Chris exchanged amused looks, a laugh escaping Nick's lips - who was holding the camera with the lens focused on the girl - while Chris curved his spine slightly, laughing so that his face took on a reddish color.

"No, my love, he's Chris." Matt began, his voice dripping with amusement, pointing at the still laughing boy. "This is Nick. And I'm Matt."

Y/N blinked a few times, trying to process the information, her mouth opening slightly as her brow furrowed.

"Oh, right! You're triplets! I love you all so much, you know that? Did you know you look alike a lot?" The girl said as if it were the most hot news in the world before letting out a loud laugh, finding herself funny enough.

As the dentists began the procedure of injecting all the anesthesia into her vein, Y/N tried to focus on taking deep breaths and relaxing, but her thoughts continued to wander to her boyfriend.

"Matt, you're the best boyfriend in the world!" Y/N exclaimed, her voice sounding groggy and quieter than she expected, a sleepy smile spreading across her lips.

Matt chuckled, holding Y/N's hand more firmly as he quickly gave the camera a superior look, feeling the greatest man of all before turning it back to his girlfriend.

"You're also the best girlfriend in the world, honey. What's your word?" The brunette asked, raising his eyes briefly to the monitor screen that showed her heartbeat.

But no response came, Y/N having fallen into a deep sleep in a matter of seconds.

After the procedure was completed and Y/N woke up, she felt herself wandering between moments of lucidity and moments of complete confusion. In an instant, she was declaring her love for Matt; the next, she was asking if Nick wanted pizza for dinner, even though they were still in the operating room.

[lostfracturess]

remedies and reasons | ch. 01

pairing — professor geto x law student reader

summary — this wasn’t supposed to happen. not that miserable internship at the law firm you hated, not him becoming your doctor, and definitely not that drunken night at the bar. but he helped, and god, you needed a friend. and he did too. except it's never just friendship with him, is it? it could be perfect—messy, complicated, but perfect. if only his heart wasn’t already taken.

important — this story is a spin-off of symptoms and causes, starting right after chapter twelve. while it can be read as a standalone, reading the original story first will give you a better understanding of the characters and story.

word count — 10.3 k

warnings — 18+ ONLY. contains explicit sexual content, age difference (10 years), doctor-patient relationship, fwb, smoking, mature themes, angst, and depictions of illness (will update as the story progresses). reader discretion is advised.

author's note — hey friends !!! i'm so thrilled to share this new story with you, even though i said i wouldn't write two stories at the same time (oops!). this chapter covers mostly chapter twelve of symptoms and causes from suguru's pov, then introduces our new reader protagonist. if you haven't read the original story, some dynamics might be confusing initially, but i hope you'll get the hang of it. remember, you're the law reader here. at the start, there's a different reader (the protagonist from symptoms and causes). i'll note at the beginning of each scene to clarify. now, i'm so excited to hear your thoughts !! reblogs and comments are love <33

masterlist + playlist + ao3 + wattpad

next chapter ->

(note: s&c reader)

"You okay?" I asked, cutting through the tense quiet of the operating room.

Her eyes snapped to mine, the usual focus returning. "I'm fine," she said, gaze drifting away as a small frown creased her brow. "Sorry."

I watched her for a moment longer, unable to tear my eyes away. The soft curve of her cheek, the tender worry in her eyes — a painful reminder of what I could never have.

I wondered what she was thinking about. What occupied her mind like this. What could distract her from a surgery she normally loved with her whole being. But deep down, I knew the answer.

I hate the answer.

The familiar ache in my chest tightened as I steadied my hands, focusing back on the aneurysm pulsating beneath my fingertips. The world shrunk down to the surgical field, the beeping monitor and harsh lights fading away. Just me, her, and the delicate dance of our hands.

"Want to continue?"

She blinked, clearly taken aback. "You want me to clip it?"

"It's a gift," I replied.

"Gift? From who?"

I merely arched an eyebrow.

I didn't really need to say it aloud, did I? She knew.

She hesitated, her gaze dropping to her gloved hands. I could see her biting her lip, even beneath the mask. Doubt clouded her eyes, a flicker of insecurity that I rarely saw.

Stupid girl. 

Of course you can do it. You've done it before. Don't lose your focus now.

"And because I trust you," I added, my voice softening. "I wouldn't offer if I didn't."

Her focus snapped back to the exposed aneurysm with an almost palpable intensity. Her jaw set. "Okay," she said simply.

There she was. That's the woman I knew.

I moved to stand just behind her shoulder, close enough to monitor her every movement yet giving her the space she needed to work. She slid seamlessly into position at the microscope, her hands sure as they picked up the instruments.

"Focus," I whispered. "You've got this."

Watching her work was a bittersweet torture.

Her hands moved with a grace and precision that belied the complexity of the procedure, each movement precise yet unhurried. She was brilliant — a natural talent with an instinct few could match.

Except, perhaps, one person.

As she prepared to guide the clip into place around the bulging aneurysm, I couldn't help but feel proud. She was incredible and she didn't even seem to realize it.

"Do you ever think I'm... reckless?"

Her question, barely a whisper, caught me off guard.

I flinched, gaze snapping to study her profile. Her hands didn't falter, her focus unwavering. But I could see the question linger in her eyes.

Why would she ask that? Had Satoru put that doubt in her mind?

"Should I be worried that you're pondering this while inches deep in someone's brain?"

"Forget it," she muttered. "Just a fleeting thought."

With a small, dull click, the clip snapped shut. She had done it, and flawlessly at that. 

As I knew she would.

I let out a slow breath, not realizing until that moment how tightly wound with tension I had been. No matter how routine, those high-stakes seconds before clipping always gripped me.

"Well done," I said, watching the tension drain from her shoulders.

She glanced up at me, a genuine smile lighting up her eyes in a way that clenched at my heart. "Thanks, Suguru."

Oh, those eyes.

It pains me that it was him she was looking at with those soft, adoring eyes.

─────── ౨ৎ ───────

(note: s&c reader)

The water stung, colder than usual.

I scrubbed my hands next to her, glancing at her from the corner of my eye. Lost in thought again. I could tell. Her movements were mechanical, detached, her hands pale under the harsh fluorescent light. 

She was a mere shadow of her former self.

Damn it, Satoru. What did you do to her to get her this hollowed out? I wanted to put my fist through his face for the worry he constantly caused her. And the worst part was, she didn't even know the half of it.

I should tell her, right?

It was the right thing to do, to warn her about his failing liver, his addiction slowly eating him alive. She deserved to know, to be prepared.

But I couldn't. I'd made a promise. And he'd promised to get his shit together. But how much were those promises worth, really?

I know how this story will end. 

I'd seen it play out too many times.

I cleared my throat, pushing the thoughts away. "I'm proud of you," I said, trying to break the silence.

"Huh?" She looked at me, confusion clouding her eyes.

"How far you've come," I clarified, trying to get the words out right, but they still sounded hollow. How could I tell her how damn proud I was of the incredible woman she'd become? "Really, you're doing a great job. With the surgery, the research—you have a great future ahead of you."

She gave me a weak smile, then turned her gaze back to her reddened hands. 

She was trying to hold it together, I could see that. And it killed me to see her like this, struggling while I felt powerless to help shoulder her burdens. I wished she'd just open up, tell me what was wrong. But again, I knew the answer.

I hate the answer.

"How are you doing?" I asked gently. "Really?"

"Holding up. Somehow."

I observed her closely. Even without her looking at me, I could feel the weight of her struggles pressing down on her.  She was always so strong, so confident, but this was different. I'd never seen her so—broken. It was like the life had drained out of her. And it damn hurt.

"New semester treating you okay?"

Stupid question, I know.

"Bit stressful," she admitted. "I have to retake a few exams."

Yeah, and whose goddamn fault is that?

God, I'm repeating myself, but I knew the answer. 

I hate the answer.

I hate it so damn much.

"Listen, if you need any help—" I began, wanting desperately to ease her burden.

"Thank you, Suguru," she cut me off, shutting off the faucet with a harsh twist. "But unless you're offering to take my tests for me, I'm afraid this is on me."

She turned and reached for a towel, the action more frantic than usual. I watched her, frustration and helplessness twisting in my gut. I wanted to do more, to be more for her, but how could I when the one she really needed was — not me.

Truth was a bitter pill I had to swallow every damn day.

As she dried her hands, I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing thoughts. I turned off the water. "I'm sorry things turned out like this for you," I said, the words almost painful. "But it's for the best, for him and for you. We did what we had to."

"Wait, what do you mean?"

I grabbed a towel. "Hm?"

"What do you mean with, 'we'?"

Shit.

I froze mid-movement, my jaw tightening involuntarily. Damn it, I hadn't meant for that to slip out.

Her eyes bore into me, demanding answers. "What did you and Satoru talk about that night? The night before the hearing? I know he was with you."

I remembered it all too well.

Satoru showing up at my door in the middle of the night, shaking, sweating, barely holding onto his sanity. The ethics committee wanting to see him bleed, the guilt eating him alive over dragging her down with him, his addiction — it all become too much.

He didn't know what to do, what the right thing was. And I helped him see reason.

Or at least, that's what I told myself.

"It's nothing important. He was confused, and I helped him clear his head."

"What does that mean? What did you say to him?"

Her hands gripped the edge of the sink until her knuckles showed bone-white through the skin. She wasn't going to let this go.

Damn it, how could I get out of this?

She deserved the truth, I knew that. But I'd sworn to Satoru I wouldn't tell. My mind raced, searching for an explanation, but the truth was, there wasn't one.

Damn it, Satoru. Why do I always have to clean up your messes?

"Tell me what the fuck you said to him!"

And then I saw it. A flash of hurt in her eyes, a vulnerability I'd never seen before. It shattered me. She was so hurt. My beautiful, strong girl was so hurt and there was not a damn thing I could do to ease her suffering.

Because she was with him.

And I was on the sidelines, forced to watch Satoru tear her apart piece by piece — until there was nothing left.

I hated it. Hated Satoru for causing her so much pain.

I couldn't take it anymore. Sorry, Satoru, but screw you and your lies. This was different, because she was different.

"Isn't it obvious?" I snapped, the words spilling out before I could stop them. "I told him to end this. That it would destroy you, and that he should take responsibility for once!"

She flinched, her eyebrows drawing together as she mutely shook her head. "You had no right. You had no fucking right to do that!"

No right?

Oh pretty, I know that better than anyone. But how could I stand by and watch her get dragged down with him? No. Not anymore. I refused.

"No right?" My voice matched hers. I hated how this entire wretched situation had me losing control, lashing out at her when Satoru was the one who deserved it. "And watch you both go down? Satoru was a ticking time bomb! It was better this way—better him destroyed than you dragged down with him."

"I had him, Suguru!" she shouted. "I almost had him trusting me enough, trusting us enough, to let me help him, damn it!"

I almost laughed, but it stuck in my throat. It hurt too much to see the hope still clinging to her eyes. "You're delusional. He can't change. You know that. It would always have ended like this."

"My god, I can't believe your audacity! You ruined everything!"

I ruined everything?

Maybe it wasn't fair of me, maybe my own feelings were clouding my judgment, but damn it, I couldn't watch this anymore. Not when I could still taste the embers in my mouth each time I saw the deadened look in her eyes.

I stepped closer, my jaw clenched. She flinched back, but I kept going. I'd watched Satoru hurt her too many times. I couldn't stand by any longer.

I had to shatter her delusion.

"You know how many times I've seen this play out? The promises to change? I've seen it too often. He won't get better, and I won't let him drag you under with him. Not you."

Her back hit the sink. I stepped closer, until I felt the sudden searing burn of her warmth radiating against me, the intoxicating floral notes of her scent filling my senses until I thought I might lose it from proximity alone.

My hand twitched, moving before my mind could catch up. I wanted to pull back, but I couldn't.

Fingertip traced the delicate line of her jaw, trembling slightly at the contact I craved so much. I fought the urge to let my touch linger, to commit every precious dove-soft plane and angle to memory while I still could.

"This is for the best," I rasped out. "You're young, brilliant. This—relationship with Satoru, it would have ruined you."

"Don't you dare," she hissed, eyes blazing as she swatted my hand away. "You have no right to decide what's best for me."

"Yes, I do. Because I was the one who got you here in the first place, it was my doing, and I—" My voice caught in my throat. "I don't want to see you hurt."

The silence that followed was deafening.

I couldn't look at her, couldn't bear to see the pain I'd caused reflected in her eyes. I'd done what I thought was right, what I believed was necessary to protect her. But in doing so, I had become the very thing I despised—a barrier between her and the happiness she deserved.

Perhaps I'd just screwed everything up even more. And it was killing me.

"Why are you saying this now?" Her voice was barely a whisper.

I wanted to tell her everything. 

I wanted to confess the depth of my feelings, the months of silent longing that felt like a steadily tightening noose around my neck whenever I witnessed her happiness with him, the aching, hollow pit that seemed to consume more of me with every smile, every tender caress between them that I wasn't the recipient of, the gut-wrenching jealousy that flayed me from the inside out whenever she looked at him with those devastatingly soft, adoring eyes that held nothing but indifference for me, the—

Sorry.

I'll stop now.

It didn't matter anyway, did it?

The words wouldn't come.

I couldn't, wouldn't allow myself to cross that line.

All I could do was look at her, my heart splitting apart from the violence of my want with every beat. The urge to reach out, to pull her against me, was almost overwhelming. But I held back, my hands clenched into fists at my sides. I'd already done enough damage.

Then, my damned gaze flickered down.

Those lips. God, those lips.

Soft, slightly parted, the bottom one bearing the faint imprint of her teeth—a nervous habit I'd caught myself watching, savoring, hating myself for noticing.

How many times had Satoru kissed those worry marks away? How many times had I wanted to?

I'd lost count of the nights I'd lain awake, imagining her mouth on mine, her lips parting to gasp my name—not his. It was torture, this constant craving to know their texture, their heat, their taste.

It was wrong, so fucking wrong, to think about her that way.

But there I was, night after night, picturing those lips forming my name in a way friends never do. Dreaming of tasting them, feeling them, knowing them in every way I shouldn't.

And it hurt.

I sucked in a hard breath.

Sorry, Satoru. I can't keep this to myself anymore.

"You know damn well why."

I couldn't say it out loud, couldn't bring myself to admit aloud what she patently refused to see with her own eyes. No. I simply couldn't.

"No," she breathed. "You can't—"

I swallowed hard, my throat tight. "Yeah, I know. You don't have to tell me that."

I already know that painful truth, pretty. It was a wound that refused to heal. I'd lived with that realization for far too long.

Suddenly, my pager blared, shattering the moment. Damn it. I cursed under my breath, pulling out the device. My face went taut as I read the message.

Yaga: Office. Now. Bring the student too.

That bastard. Why the hell did he want to see me now? And why her? Was it something Satoru screwed up again? Or something else? Did Satoru get the same message?

This couldn't have come at a worse time.

"What is it?" she asked, her eyes searching mine. I couldn't meet her gaze. Not after I'd betrayed not only her, but Satoru too, with my stupid, selfish feelings.

"Yaga," I choked out. "Wants to see us. Now."

Our eyes finally met, hers filled with questions I've longed so much to answer.

"Why?"

"I...I don't know. But we should go. Come on."

─────── ౨ৎ ───────

(note: s&c reader)

My foot tapped a nervous beat on the scuffed wooden floor.

Why was I so damn nervous? I knew Yaga's games, been through them a thousand times. But this felt different. Because she was here. And she shouldn't be.

A knot tightened in my gut.

He wouldn't bring up that topic again, would he?

I glared at Yaga, willing him to just spit it out already. My eyes flicked to her, sitting stiffly beside me. Her face was a mask. I wondered what she was thinking about. Was she thinking about what I said? Or about—no, I didn't even want to think about that.

I know, I know, I'm repeating myself.

I knew the answer.

I hate the answer.

"So, shall we begin?" Yaga's voice finally cut through the silence, like he'd been enjoying our discomfort. Damn old bastard. "I've called you here to discuss a research project that I want you to redo."

He slid a folder across the desk towards her.

No name, just a mess of loose papers threatening to spill out. She picked it up, her brow furrowing as she opened it. Then her grip tightened on the file. I leaned closer to see what had her so tense, and my stomach dropped.

I knew that title.

Knew it better than anyone, except maybe the one person who'd written it.

"You want me to redo a study that was completely pointless?" she asked, her voice sharp.

"Yes," Yaga said simply.

"The results were inconclusive. A dead end."

"Your research held promise. Dr. Geto never failed to remind me." Yaga's eyes flickered to me. "Now, you have better resources, better support. You can refine it, perfect it."

Damn it. I should've kept my mouth shut.

Regret gnawed at my insides like acid. Regretted telling him what a brilliant mind she had, how much she deserved to be here—among the best. 

Because she did.

She was a natural, something I'd rarely seen before, maybe only in Satoru. Hell, it was like watching a younger Satoru at work. And it hurt. It was painful to see so many parallels between them, knowing that I could never measure up to him in her eyes.

I'd brought her here because I believed in her. Because I wanted her on my research team, because I wanted to work with her. But now, I wasn't so sure.

Had I screwed up? Was I the reason she was in this mess? Had I brought her here only to watch her world fall apart?

I didn't want to admit it. Couldn't bear to be the cause of her pain.

I glanced at her, catching her eye. Frustration and confusion were written all over her face.

Shame washed over me.

It was stupid, I know. I shouldn't feel ashamed for recognizing her talent, for bringing her here where she belonged. She deserved it all. But I couldn't shake the feeling that without me, she would've been better off.

Without me and Satoru.

Her knuckles turned white as bone as she gripped the file tighter, then slammed it shut.

"That's not the point," she said. "My CAR-T Therapy research was theoretical, a mathematical model that was inherently flawed. All the best equipment in the world won't change that. It's a black hole."

Yaga leaned forward. "Listen, we have a generous donor. I think you met her at the conference? She took quite a liking to you. Her husband recently succumbed to this very type of tumor."

I knew it.

Yaga, the greedy bastard, never changed his stripes.

The silence was heavy, the only sound the insistent ticking of the clock on the wall. Her mind was racing, I could feel it. So was mine.

I must have spaced out for a second, because the next thing I knew, she was speaking again, her voice dangerously low. "You want to use me to exploit a grieving woman just to line your pockets?"

Yaga's mouth hung open, the smug look wiped clean off his face.

In any other situation, I would have laughed. She, a mere student, had managed to stun the all-powerful Yaga into silence. But the situation was anything but funny. Still, I couldn't help but feel a surge of pride. She was something else.

Suddenly, the door slammed open. I didn't even need to turn my head to know who it was.

"What the hell is going on here?" Satoru's voice boomed through the room.

Yaga's face hardened. "Dr. Gojo, what a... surprise. Here I thought you might have finally bothered to read your emails."

"Cut the bullshit, Yaga," Satoru spat. "This is a new low, even for you. Forcing a student, exploiting a grieving widow—have you no shame?"

Yaga rubbed his temples, his voice dripping with annoyance. "Dr. Gojo, your dramatics are exhausting. Do you understand the costs your actions have inflicted on this institution? A shred of gratitude, a willingness to shoulder some responsibility, might be a welcome change."

"Responsibility? You want to talk about responsibility? You're exploiting a woman in the depths of grief, using one of my students as a bargaining chip. What the hell happened to you, Yaga?"

The two of them went at it, their words flying back and forth faster than my eyes could follow. 

Yeah, Satoru sure knew how to make an entrance. Not a trait that was always helpful in situations like this, because something in Yaga snapped at his words.

Yaga stood up so abruptly his chair screeched against the floor. "Happened to me? Dr. Gojo, have you considered the consequences of your reckless behavior? You're the one spiraling, and frankly, it's becoming unbearable."

Damn, these two were about to kill each other. Satoru should know better than to provoke Yaga like that. The old man was stubborn as hell. But so was Satoru.

I closed my eyes briefly, then stepped between them, forcing myself to sound calm. "Director Yaga, please. She's a student, her focus should be on her studies."

"Of course, which is why you and Dr. Gojo will provide your expertise. Your old lab is free to use, funds are secured, equipment at your disposal. You have free rein."

Huh?

I narrowed my eyes. As if that made it any better.

Satoru let out a bitter laugh. "Free rein? Or free rein to do as you please? Despicable, Yaga. Truly despicable." He leaned back, folding his arms.   "And wasn't I suspended? Investigations and all that? But I suppose principles go out the window when money enters the picture."

"You have no right to dictate what happens here, Gojo," Yaga snapped, his composure slipping. "You answer to me. This research holds immense potential, not just for the university, but for the field itself. You will do it. End of discussion."

"Potential? Or is that just fancy code for fattening your wallet, Yaga?"

"Don't play dumb, Gojo. You, of all people, know exactly how the game is played."

"Don't. Do. This." Satoru leaned forward, his chest brushing against my hand as I tried to hold him back. "Involve her in your schemes, and I swear—Leave her out of this. Suguru and I can do the damned research, but let her focus on her studies."

"You're in no position to bargain. I can make things incredibly difficult for you, Gojo. Throw away all that potential, all that talent... it would be a shame, wouldn't it? But I am more than willing to do so if you prove uncooperative."

Smug bastard was really pushing it today.

He was nothing without us, and he knew it. This whole place would crumble without Satoru and me. We were the ones who brought in the grants, the prestige, the groundbreaking research. And yet, he treated us like we were disposable.

I pushed Satoru back, stepping up to confront Yaga directly. The urge to wipe that smugness from his face with my fists was nearly overwhelming, but I forced control over my rage. One hothead was more than enough for today.

Still, my words came out in a tone of barely restrained menace. "Director. Dr. Gojo has a point. This research will be a massive distraction. Her studies should be her priority."

"Yes," Yaga drawled. "I heard about her recent... setbacks." Yaga sank back in his chair and opened his laptop. "A failed practical exam, a theoretical test barely passed. And this isn't the first time, is it?"

He turned the screen towards her, her failing grades a glaring red on the display. "Tell me, which subject would you like to miraculously pass? A click of my fingers, and it's done."

Before I could say anything, Satoru exploded.

"You blackmailing piece of shit!"

"Blackmail?" Yaga said. "No, blackmail would be threatening to cut her scholarship, endangering her entire future here... which, thankfully, our generous donor would be more than happy to preserve."

This was too much. 

Now he had two pissed-off neurosurgeons on his hands. I braced my hands on the desk, leaning towards him. "Yaga, this is beyond the pale! This blatant manipulation—"

Suddenly, her voice cut through the tension. "I'll do it. I'll work on the research."

The room fell silent. 

Satoru and I both whipped around to look at her. Her gaze was fixed on Yaga, not flinching. There was something defeated about her, something I wasn't used to seeing. It chilled me to the bone. She wouldn't give in like that. I knew her better than that.

But what had changed?

"Someone finally sees reason," Yaga said, breaking the silence. "You start this week—"

"No," Satoru interrupted. "That's not up for debate. We start next week."

"This week," Yaga repeated, his voice firm.

Leaning in, Satoru's voice took on a dangerous edge. "Next week. Or I walk out that door and you can find yourself a new star surgeon."

Huh?

Why did the start date matter so much to him?

Was that the real issue here?

"Dr. Gojo, you are exceedingly close to losing my goodwill," Yaga ground out. "Fine. Next week."

Satoru backed off and started to pace the room. I glanced at her, who was still sitting silently in her chair. She looked so small, lost in the shadows of Yaga's office. I wanted to wrap her in a hug, tell her it would all be okay.

But it wasn't my place. I knew the answer—

Sorry.

I'll not repeat myself yet again.

My gaze shifted back to Yaga. "And if we find nothing? Months, years, wasted on a dead-end?"

"You'll continue as long as the funding lasts."

"Of course," Satoru spat from across the room.

"Well, look at the bright side, Gojo," Yaga said, adjusting his glasses and focusing on some papers on his desk. "I just approved that fancy new CT scanner for the ER. Isn't that what you've been whining about? Finally found some spare change in the budget, did we?."

"You fucking bastard," Satoru hissed.

Yaga merely shrugged. "Everyone has to play their role, Gojo."

I watched the exchange with a growing sense of disgust. Yaga's power plays were nothing new, but this — this was something else. Exploiting a grieving widow's generosity, using my student's academic struggles as leverage. It was sickening. 

I'd always known Yaga was ruthless, but this level of manipulation left a sour taste in my mouth. He was like a parasite, feeding off the brilliance and drive of others, all while masquerading as an advocate for the institution's best interests.

I clenched my jaw.

How could I continue to work for a man who treated his students and staff as mere commodities to be exploited?

Suddenly, I heard a shaky breath behind me.

I turned to see her staring blankly ahead, her body trembling ever so slightly. "If you'll excuse me," she whispered, then abruptly stood up and practically fled the room.

"Wait—" I started, but she was already gone, the door clicking shut behind her.

"Fuck you, Yaga!" Satoru shouted, slamming his fist against the wall hard enough to leave a mark. "This is your fault, your doing!" With that, he stormed out after her.

And I couldn't follow.

All I could do was try to clean up the mess that was left behind.

As soon as they were gone, I turned back to Yaga, who seemed to think the conversation was over. Oh, but it wasn't. Not by a long shot.

"You know about them," I said, not bothering to phrase it as a question.

"It's obvious even to a blind man, Dr. Geto," Yaga replied, his eyes glued to the papers on his desk.

"And you're just going to ignore it?"

He looked up, a cold glint in his eyes. "I finally found Gojo's weakness. Why would I let that go? At long last, I have a way to make him obey me."

I scoffed. In one swift motion, I swept the papers off his desk, scattering them across the floor. I leaned forward, my hands braced on his desk, glaring at him.

"This crosses a line, Yaga. You've gone too far."

His eyes narrowed. "Watch your tone, Dr. Geto. You're treading on dangerous ground."

"No, you are!" I shot back, my voice rising. "You're exploiting her, using her for your own gain. You think you can manipulate everyone, but you're wrong."

"Control? Greed? Those are harsh words coming from you," Yaga retorted, standing up to face me. "And here I thought you, of all people, would understand."

"Understand your greed? Not a chance."

"I don't care if you like my choices or not. This is how things work. You can play by the rules, or be replaced. Don't delude yourself into thinking you're irreplaceable, Dr. Geto."

"Your arrogance is going to cost you another surgeon if you don't watch it. You drove Sukuna away, and now you're halfway there with Gojo and me."

"Sukuna was a different story!" Yaga snapped, his face contorted with a rage I couldn't quite comprehend. He quickly regained his composure, but the outburst had left an uneasy silence in its wake.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed. I glanced at the screen and saw Shoko's name. Frowning, I answered the call. "Shoko? What is it?"

"Suguru, there's a patient here who insists on seeing Satoru. She says it's really important, but he isn't answering his phone, and she won't leave.“

"Why can't you see her yourself?"

"I need a neurologist's assessment," she replied. "And she specifically asked for Satoru. They had an appointment scheduled, and she's adamant about seeing him."

I sighed, rubbing my temples. "There are other neurologists on staff right now."

I could hear her sigh on the other end of the line. "She's never seen anyone else here, Suguru. I'm pretty sure there's a reason she's so insistent on Satoru. Just look at her, do me a favor."

"Alright, I'll be there soon," I conceded. "Bring her to my office."

I ended the call and turned back to Yaga. I took a deep breath, trying to quell the rage that threatened to consume me. "This isn't over. Not by a damn sight."

"Yeah, yeah, Dr. Geto, as always," he dismissed me, already back at his papers. "By the way, there's a legal consult regarding this research coming up for you and Gojo. We don't want a repeat of past indiscretions, now do we?" He looked up at me.

I wanted to smash his smug face in. 

I turned and stormed out of his office, slamming the door behind me. My blood was boiling, my fists clenched tight. I hated this whole damn situation. Hated Yaga, hated his manipulative tactics, hated how he was using her. But most of all, I hated feeling so goddamn powerless.

As I walked down the corridor, my anger slowly hardening into resolve. Yaga might think he was in control, but he was wrong. I wouldn't let him manipulate her, or Satoru, or anyone else.

Not this time. Not ever again.

─────── ౨ৎ ───────

(note: r&r reader)

I made my way to the hospital.

A damn patient was really the last thing on my mind. I had more important things to do than deal with a hysterical patient. What was it even about? Why did it have to be Satoru she wanted to see? Some relative of his?

I tried to take a deep breath and calm myself, but the downpour between the parking lot and the main entrance made it damn near impossible. By the time I got inside, I was soaked to the bone. No umbrella in sight, of course.

My office door was slightly open. I pushed it in, expecting to find some old lady or something. Instead, a young woman sat in the chair across from my desk. Mid twenties, maybe, with a delicate, almost fragile look about her. Her hands were clasped tightly in her lap.

The office was dark, the lights off, which struck me as odd given the gloomy weather outside. But the light from the window beside her illuminated her face, and I had to admit — she was beautiful.

I must have hesitated overlong in the doorway, because her gaze suddenly snapped up to meet mine, those stunning eyes of hers holding me captive. "You are not Dr. Gojo."

"I'm Dr. Geto," I managed, clearing my throat against the strange tension. "You not fond of light, are you?" I asked pointing towards the light switch.

"I like it a bit dimmed," she said, and I didn't question it further.

I stepped into the room, glancing down at my clothes. Not exactly the most professional look for a doctor, standing there soaked through in front of a patient. I threw on my white coat, but it did little to hide my damp appearance.

"You were here for Dr. Gojo, right?" I said as I sat down behind my desk.

"Yes," she said, her eyes following my every move.

"I'm sorry, but he isn't available right now. But I'm a neurologist as well. Perhaps I can help you instead?"

She slid a piece of paper across my desk, her hand still resting on it. "I just need a signature here."

"A signature?" I leaned forward, water dripping from my hair onto the form. I quickly pushed my wet strands back. "This is a health screening form."

"Yes." Her eyes darted nervously to mine. "I need it for my job."

"Can I take a look at it?" I made to take the paper, but her hand remained firmly in place.

"Just the signature, please. Then I'll be out of your hair."

I raised an eyebrow. "I can't sign something without knowing what I'm signing."

Her brow furrowed, and she snatched the form back. "Sorry to have wasted your time," she muttered, starting to get up.

"Wait," I said, stopping her mid-motion. What was it about this woman? What did Satoru have to do with any of this?

"Tell me." I leaned back in my chair. "What did you and Gojo agree on regarding this?"

She hesitated, biting her lip. "Dr. Gojo agreed to sign it without asking too many questions."

Something didn't add up. Satoru might be an addict, but he wasn't reckless with patients.

"I swear, I'll give you the signature you need if you'd just let me take a look at it first."

Reluctantly, she slid the form back across the desk, avoiding my eyes. I scanned it quickly, my brow furrowing as I saw the long list of medications, mostly anticonvulsants. 

That explained the lights being off.

"You have epilepsy." I looked up at her. Why would she think either of us would sign this without checking it out first?

"Yes."

"And you're currently taking all these meds?" I gestured to the list.

"Yes."

I leaned back, studying her face. "And Gojo knew about this?"

"Yes."

"Do you have any other words in your vocabulary besides 'yes'?"

Her brow furrowed, and a flicker of defiance flashed in her eyes.

I sighed. "Come on, sit down."

Reluctantly, she settled back into the chair.

I studied her face, looking for any signs of her epilepsy — a slight tremor in her hands from the Topiramate, maybe. But there was nothing. She was perfectly still. Satoru must have found the right dosage.

The silence stretched on. I waited for an explanation, and she knew it. I could practically see the gears turning in her head.

"He's been treating me for a while," she finally said.

"I see. And he agreed to sign this health screening form for you?"

"Yes—"

I raised an eyebrow.

"Look, Dr. Geto, I really need this for my internship," she pleaded. "It's really important to me."

I glanced back down at the form. "Nishimura and Asahi, huh? That's a big deal. You're a law intern?"

"Yes, I am. I'll be working there for the next semester."

I skimmed the papers again, test results, MRI scans. "So, you're almost done with your studies?"  I asked, not looking up.

"I do my second state examination after my internship, yes, then I'm done."

"Hmm." I looked up from the papers, the rain drumming against the windows, the only sound in the otherwise silent office. She stared at me, unwavering.

"So you're preparing for your final exams while working the internship? Sounds stressful," I tried to broach the subject carefully.

"Please, Dr. Geto," she said. "I just need a signature on this paper, and I'm out of here."

I sighed. "I understand. But I can't just sign this without checking in on you first. I need to run some tests, make sure you're fit for work."

My eyes scanned the papers again. Blood tests and medication checks were recent, but the MRI scans were outdated. Even Satoru wouldn't have let her slide with that.

"Look, we can make this quick," I offered. "Your MRI scans are old. We take new ones, and then—"

"No," she blurted out, her voice rising in panic. "I mean, isn't there another way?"

"Another way to look into your brain?" I raised an eyebrow. "I'm afraid not."

She bit her lip, her hands clenching and unclenching in her lap, saying nothing.

"Look, it's crucial for me to get a clear picture of your brain activity," I explained. "It's the only way I can make sure you're safe and healthy. Otherwise, I can't sign that form."

She looked up at me again. "I... I can't do MRIs. I'm not really comfortable with enclosed spaces."

Huh?

Was that the problem?

I ran a hand through my damp hair, looking back at her scans. "Your last scans were done by Dr. Gojo too, right?"

"Yes."

She was a woman of few words, it seemed.

"Was there something special Dr. Gojo did that made you feel more comfortable in the MRI? Did he give you any medication? Vistaril? Valium?" I knew it wasn't that, though. Those drugs would interact badly with her other meds.

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, looking like she might throw up any second. "He... held my hand."

Ha?

My eyebrows shot up. "He held your hand?"

She lifted her chin and looked away. "It... it helped."

I can only imagine the dumbfounded look that must have settled on my features as I processed her words. I couldn't picture Satoru, who rather had his patients in and out in mere seconds, being so patient and caring with anyone. Let alone holding their hand through a brain scan.

She crossed her arms, a stubborn look on her face. "I swear, nothing weird happened. He just held my hand, that's all."

I couldn't help but laugh.

"It's not funny," she protested, her cheeks flushing. "It was really embarrassing."

"Oh, I'm sure it was," I teased, enjoying her flustered reaction. "But it's also quite cute."

She huffed, turning her head away. "It's not cute. It's just... something he did."

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the desk. "And would you like me to do the same?"

Her eyes narrowed, a spark of challenge in them. "His hands were really soft."

"Is that so?" I leaned back in my chair. I could see the wheels turning in her head, her stubbornness a thinly veiled attempt to stall for time.

"And warm."

"Aha."

"And he had this way of holding my hand," she started, demonstrating with her own hands. My eyebrows shot up even higher as she mimicked Satoru's thumb stroking her knuckles. "Like this."

Somewhere in the middle of her demonstration, she must have realized how ridiculous this was, because she abruptly stopped.

"Don't laugh!" she warned, and I realized I was indeed grinning like an idiot.

Before she could object, I reached out and took her hand in mine.

Her skin was soft, her fingers delicate. I held her gaze, challenging her silently. Not sure what I was trying to prove, but the warmth of her hand in mine felt... good. I knew I was crossing a line here, but I couldn't bring myself to care.

"See? Not so bad, is it?"

She didn't say anything, but her grip tightened a bit. I held her gaze for a few more seconds, then my thumb brushed against the back of her hand in a soothing gesture. She seemed to relax slightly under my touch.

Her eyes darted around the room as if searching for an escape route. "I... I suppose."

I couldn't help but let the moment linger, our hands still intertwined. I noticed a slight tremor in her fingers, and my thumb instinctively smoothed over her skin again.

She suddenly gasped. "That's... quite weird."

"And with Gojo it wasn't weird?"

She shook her head, eyes glued to our hands. "No. I just realized it's weird in general."

I smiled. "Well, then it's settled. We'll schedule your MRI for tomorrow morning."

"You're not like other doctors."

"Perhaps not," I said, finally letting go of her hand. "But you're not exactly your average patient either."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she gestured towards my soaked shirt. "You're the doctor who's completely drenched. I can practically see your skin underneath. Not very professional, is it?"

I glanced down at my sopping clothes. I hadn't even realized how see-through my shirt was. "For someone who's afraid of an MRI machine, you sure have a big mouth."

She crossed her arms. "And for someone who just held a patient's hand without their explicit consent, you sure have a lot of nerve. That's a violation of medical ethics, you know. I could report you for that."

"A law student, are we?" I raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at my lips. "Perhaps you should focus on passing your exams before you start threatening lawsuits."

"Yeah, well, I'd need that signature before I can do that, wouldn't I?"

"Fair enough." I stood up, keys in hand. "Until tomorrow then. Try not to sue me in your sleep."

I turned to leave, but her voice stopped me. "Just so you know, Dr. Geto. I'm not afraid of MRI machines. I just don't like them."

I turned back, a grin spreading across my face. "We'll see about that tomorrow, Attorney," I challenged. "We'll see about that."

The hallway was empty, the silence broken only by the steady drip of water from my clothes. As I walked, the adrenaline of the encounter faded, replaced by the familiar weight of the day's earlier events. The tense confrontation with Yaga, the lingering ache for her — it all came back, a dull throb in the background of my thoughts.

Her face.

Her eyes.

That damn smile.

I ran a hand through my hair.

Fuck.

─────── ౨ৎ ───────

(note: r&r reader)

I held my promise.

Her fingers were cold and clammy, her pulse racing beneath my touch. My thumb traced the back of her hand, hoping to convey some sense of comfort. The MRI machine's steady thrum filled the room, but beneath it, I could still hear her shallow breaths.

How the hell did I end up here? Holding hands with a patient during a goddamn brain scan was definitely not in my job description.

"Can you tell me something?" she asked. "Dr. Gojo always talked to me while I was in here."

"What do you want to know?"

"How did you and Dr. Gojo meet?"

I hesitated, slightly irritated by the personal question.

"We've known each other our whole lives. Kindergarten, elementary school, high school... we didn't always get along. He can be a real pain in the ass. But somewhere along the way, we just clicked. Been stuck together ever since. Same university, now working together."

"So you've never been apart?"

"Not really," I said, continuing to soothe her hand with my thumb. "I think the longest we were separated was when he did a semester abroad. Six months, maybe."

"Wow. Sounds like you're an old married couple."

I huffed. "Yeah, somehow we were that."

"Were?"

I looked up, realizing I'd slipped into past tense.

There was a long silence as I thought about it. We used to be so close, inseparable. There was nothing we didn't share, nothing that could ever come between us. But lately, it felt like we were drifting apart.

Maybe I was only realizing it now.

"Oh, I..." I trailed off. I rested my chin on my free hand, looking away from her. "I guess it's only natural. People drift apart. Life happens."

What the hell was I doing?

This was some random patient of Satoru's, a complete stranger. I should've stuck to small talk, the weather, anything but my personal life. But maybe, with everything going on, I just needed to talk about it — to anyone. Because I sure as hell couldn't talk to Satoru about it.

But she wouldn't understand, would she? She was just a stranger.

She wouldn't understand the sleepless nights, the endless tossing and turning, the hollow ache in my chest that wouldn't go away.

"Hmm," she murmured, her grip on my hand tightening slightly. "Was it a woman?"

"Huh?" I looked at her, or at least the part of her face that wasn't hidden by the MRI machine.

"The reason you parted, I mean?"

"No. It wasn't a woman."

The silence hung in the air as the MRI hummed and clicked. She didn't say anything.

I took a deep breath. "It was a woman. But not in the way you think."

"It's never what it seems, is it?"

I hesitated, not sure how much to share. But something in her voice, a softness, made me want to go on. "They share a bond... a deep one. I've never seen anything like that. It's like they're the very air the other breathes."

Her grip on my hand tightened, as if she understood the depth of my pain, even without knowing the full story. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"It's alright," I said, trying to shrug it off, but the pain was still raw. "I knew from the start that they were made for each other."

The truth sliced through me, sharp and cold.

They were too similar, both bordering on insanity to be fair, but similar. Yet, they were so stubborn, so unwilling to admit their need for each other, that they'd rather tear each other down.

It was a damn tragedy.

Even more of a tragedy to get caught up in their destruction, to have these stupid feelings I'd rather not have.

I stayed silent, unsure if I wanted to say anything more. It hurt too much to talk about it, the wound still too fresh. But then, her voice cut through the silence again.

"The law firm is hell."

"Huh?" I was pulled back to the present. "What do you mean?"

"The corporate types are all so stiff and judgmental," she complained. "And the other law students... so ambitious, always trying to one-up each other. I hate it."

My lips twitched into a light smile. "Yeah, law students were always ambitious, even back in my day."

"They are. Everyone's so focused on being the best, even if it means stepping on others. I'm not sure I have that kind of ambition."

"But you got an internship at one of the top law firms in the city," I pointed out. "That must mean you're pretty ambitious yourself."

There was a pause, then she almost whispered, "Yeah, but at what cost..."

Hm?

I barely caught her words, but before I could ask her to repeat herself, a sudden beep from the MRI machine cut through the air. The machine whirred to a stop, the sudden silence almost unsettling. The scan was complete.

The table slowly slid out, bringing her back into full view. She blinked, her eyes adjusting to the light. "That's it?" she asked, sounding surprised. "It's over?"

"All done, Attorney," I said with a reassuring smile. "You did great."

As she started to sit up, I realized I was still holding her hand. She glanced down at our intertwined fingers. "You can let go now, Dr. Geto."

I blinked, snapping back to reality. I quickly released her hand. "Sorry."

"It's okay," she said, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. "I tend to have that effect on men."

"Again, for someone who's afraid of MRIs, you've got a pretty big mouth."

"Again, I'm not afraid of them. I just don't like them."

"Yeah, yeah," I said, helping her off the table. My hand brushed against hers again. "Now let's take a look at those scans."

─────── ౨ৎ ───────

(note: r&r reader)

As the images flickered onto the screen, my focus sharpened, my eyes scanning the intricate patterns of her brain. The room was quiet, broken only by the soft hum of the computer and the rhythmic beeping of the nearby monitors.

"Everything looks good, Attorney," I said. "No signs of any abnormalities or lesions."

She leaned forward, her eyes wide with interest as she studied the images. "So, I'm all clear?"

"As far as I can tell. Your epilepsy seems to be well-controlled with your current medication."

"Thanks, Dr. Geto, I really appreciate it."

"You're welcome," I replied, grabbing the form from my desk. "Now, about that signature..." I quickly filled it out, my pen scratching across the paper. With a final flourish, I signed my name at the bottom.

"Here you go," I said, handing it over. "All set."

She took it, her eyes scanning the document quickly. "Thank you. You've been a lifesaver."

"Just doing my job." I waved away her thanks. "Now, go out there and conquer the legal world."

She looked up from the paper and met my gaze with a boldness that caught me off guard. "Would you like to go out for drinks this weekend?"

I blinked, my mind scrambling to process her words. "I... what?" I stammered, completely taken aback. "Are you—asking me out?"

"No, no, that's not it at all!" She quickly waved her hands in front of her face. "I mean, not like a date or anything. I could really use a friend, someone to show me around and... you know, just hang out with."

I stared at her, amused and bewildered at the same time. "Attorney, I'm at least ten years older than you."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Ha? How old are you?"

"How old are you?"

"Didn't you read my medical history, doctor?"

Right. Now I remembered. Twenty-six. Yeah, ten years older. I leaned against the desk, not quite sure what to make of her proposition.

"I'm your doctor," I said, reminding her of the obvious.

"Technically, I'm Dr. Gojo's patient."

"Even so, you realize how this could be perceived, right?" 

"It's not like I'm asking for your kidney. Just a few drinks." She shrugged, unfazed. "Besides, you seem like a nice guy."

"That's all it takes for you?"

"Come on, don't make it so hard for me," she said, pouting playfully.

"I'm not sure I'm the best person to show you around town. I'm a bit of a workaholic. Socializing isn't exactly my forte."

She tilted her head, studying me with a curious gaze. "So you're saying you don't have any friends?" she asked, a playful challenge in her voice. "Are you a loner, Dr. Geto?"

I hesitated, thrown off by her directness. "Do you always speak your mind so bluntly?"

She shrugged. "Only when I'm talking to heartbroken doctors who seem a little lonely."

I couldn't help but be intrigued by her persistence.

She was unlike any patient I'd ever met — bold, witty, and surprisingly insightful. And despite the age difference, there was some sort of strange understanding between us. I couldn't quite tell if she was doing this for herself or for me, but I found myself wanting to find out.

"Alright, Attorney," I said. "You win. I'll show you around town. But don't expect any wild nights out. I'm more of a quiet bar and good conversation kind of guy."

Her face lit up with a genuine smile. "Sounds perfect. Just promise me you won't try to diagnose me with anything while we're out."

"Why, is there more to diagnose?"

"Nothing major," she said with a chuckle. "Just the usual existential angst, quarter-life crisis, questioning my entire career path kind of stuff."

"Don't worry. I won't diagnose anything outside this hospital."

"Great." She grinned, extending her hand. "Then it's a deal."

As our hands clasped together, I returned her smile. "Deal."

─────── ౨ৎ ───────

(note: s&c reader)

Satoru's call woke me up, telling me to get my ass to the lab. It was my day off, damn it, but when he mentioned she wanted to meet us. I dragged myself out of bed.

By the time I got to our old lab — now ours again, apparently — Satoru was already mapping out the entire research study on the whiteboard. He must have been there for hours.

Good thing I'd brought two coffees. I knew this was coming.

Hours passed in a blur of caffeine and whiteboard markers. Satoru and I argued over every damn strategy, our approaches clashing like always. He wanted to go one way, I wanted to go another. Every idea we had was met with immediate criticism and erased within minutes.

New idea, erase, repeat.

But we kept going, trying to find a plan that would work, not just for us, but for her. We both wanted to take some of the burden off her shoulders.

Then the lab door opened. I turned, surprised to see anyone before the afternoon. My heart stuttered in my chest.

It was her.

She walked over to us, her expression unreadable. It was the first time I'd seen her since Yaga's office, since I'd almost let those three damning words slip past my guard. Since I'd seen the confusion in her eyes when she realized what I was about to confess.

God, what had I been thinking?

That she'd what, return my feelings?

Foolish.

"What are you doing here?" Satoru asked. "Don't you have a lecture right now?"

"Yuta's covering for me. It's fine."

"That's not how this research will work. You won't jeopardize your studies for this," Satoru said, his voice firm.

"Last time I checked, this was my research. Remember?" she retorted, her tone just as sharp.

Satoru merely huffed. She shifted under his gaze, looking uncomfortable. And tired. No, tired was an understatement. She looked like she hadn't slept in a week. Her cheeks were hollow, her skin pale. I hated seeing her like this.

"You look exhausted," I observed quietly. "Are you sure you're up for this?"

"I'm fine," she said, but it was a blatant lie.

I glanced at Satoru, who was already looking at me with a frown. He thought the same thing I did.

"Look, I have an idea," she said suddenly, walking over to the whiteboard and snatching the marker from my hand. Before I could react, she erased our notes with a few harsh strokes.

Ouch.

"My original approach was too theoretical—too cautious," she began, drawing on the whiteboard. "I wanted to use CAR-T therapy to treat brain tumors like blood diseases, but that's not enough. What if we combine CAR-T with targeted antibodies?"

I took a seat next to Satoru, my eyes following hers as she scribbled diagrams and equations on the board. I took a sip of my coffee, already cold. "Antibodies... what kind?"

"T-cell engagers," she said without missing a beat. "We can engineer them to bridge the gap between the CAR-T cells and the tumor."

"That's never been tested before," Satoru chimed in.

"That's why we'll be the first," she retorted. “We'll modify the CAR-T cells to specifically target the glioblastoma's antigen fingerprint. But we need to combine them with T-cell engagers, designed to simultaneously bind the EGFR protein. This way, we can maximize tumor cell destruction."

It was hard to keep up. Her words were spilling out a mile a minute, as if she was afraid they otherwise might slip her mind, the drawings on the board barely legible.

Then, she spun around. "And we'll inject them directly into the brain."

Silence.

Satoru and I stared at her, trying to process what she'd just laid out. Even as seasoned neurosurgeons, we were struggling to keep up. This was on a whole other level than anything we'd considered.

We were looking for something that would work and be safe.

She just wanted to find a way to make it work, damn the risks it seemed. The lack of sleep was clearly messing with her head, but in a twisted way, it made sense. Still, we couldn't actually go through with this, could we?

Her gaze flitted between us, waiting for a response.

God, I need a cigarette.

"That's," I paused, searching for the right word, "—bold."

"More like insane," Satoru countered. "When was the last time you actually slept?"

"Ha? Tell me this doesn't make sense."

I leaned back, drumming my fingers on the armrest as I thought it over. "It does. Theoretically, it could work."

"Combining CAR-T with antibodies? Direct brain injection? We don't have preclinical data, not even hypothetical models to support something this radical," Satoru countered.

"So?" she challenged. "Isn't that what groundbreaking research is about? Taking risks, pushing boundaries?" She gestured to the whiteboard. "This—this is worth the risk."

I stood up and started pacing, rubbing my chin as I thought it through. I walked back over to the board, took the marker from her hand, and started scribbling.

"She's right,"  I said, my mind racing.  "Direct injection cuts through the blood-brain barrier issue. And targeted antibodies... that opens up possibilities we haven't even considered."

But there were still so many obstacles. "The potential for cytokine release syndrome—" I mused aloud. "If the T-cells overreact, we could trigger an inflammatory response."

She leaned closer, her eyes focused on the board. "We can manage that. Steroids, anti-IL-6... strict monitoring protocols."

Hmm, maybe. But there was still more to consider. I kept writing. "And what about the target itself? EGFRvIII is notoriously heterogeneous. We need robust evidence that our antibodies won't miss their mark—"

"Is it just me, or am I the only sane person in this room right now?" Satoru interrupted, his arms crossed as he glared at us from his chair. "We're not talking about hypothetical models here. We're talking about messing with someone's brain. Someone's life."

"I'm well aware of the risks, Satoru," she shot back.

"Aware and reckless aren't the same thing," he retorted.

"Coming from you, that's rich."

God, I need two cigarettes now.

"Look, you've barely slept for a week, and now you're proposing—what, supercharged T-cells?" He gestured towards our chaotic notes on the whiteboard. "Have you both lost your goddamn minds?" His gaze flickered between the two of us.

I was surprised he was so hesitant. Satoru was usually the first to jump into the deep end. Somehow, I had the feeling he changed. He wasn't as risky as I used to know him. Must be her influence.

She took a step forward, her eyes locked on Satoru's. "This could work, Satoru. Or are you too much of a coward to even try?"

"Ha?"

She leaned in, her hands gripping the arms of his chair. "Tell me, do these supercharged T-cells unnerve you? Make you uncomfortable with yourself?"

I had to look away. The sight of them so close together made my stomach churn. I didn't want to see whatever was about to happen. She whispered something I couldn't make out, but the intensity in her eyes was clear. A wave of irritation, of jealousy, washed over me.

My phone buzzed, a welcome distraction. I pulled it out, annoyance flaring when I saw the caller ID.

"Damn it." I answered the call. "Shoko, what is it?"

"Hey Suguru, look, we have an emergency here and the other neurologist is out sick. We need someone to jump in, can you come?"

I rubbed my temple. "Alright, I'm on my way."

I turned back to them, already gathering my things. "We'll pick this up later. There's a situation at the hospital." I looked at her, concern replacing my irritation. "Get some rest. You look like hell."

The words were out before I could stop them, harsher than I intended. But I was already halfway out the door.

Later, as I was scrubbing into surgery, my own words echoed in my mind.

And I felt awful.

─────── ౨ৎ ───────

(note: s&c reader)

Sharp autumn air stung my lungs with each greedy drag on my cigarette.

Across the table, Satoru's fingers tapped an impatient rhythm on the worn table that set my teeth on edge. I had to resist the urge to reach over and grab his wrist to make him stop. His eyes were glued to his phone. Overhead, the sky was a bruise-colored canvas, the sun barely visible.

Forgotten coffee grew cold between us.

I took another long drag from my cigarette. Satoru shifted opposite of me, his leg bouncing with nervous energy. He hadn't looked away from his phone in minutes, his fingers twitching as if itching to type a message.

We sat like this for a while at the campus outdoor cafeteria. Students hurried past. Neither of us said a word.

"Sorry for ditching you with my patient the other day," he finally said. "How'd it go?"

I exhaled a plume of smoke and watched it vanish into the leaden sky. "Everything's fine. Medication's good, MRI was clean."

"That's good news," he said, already back to his phone, unlocking and locking it in a nervous tic. "Knew you'd take care of her." He glanced up with a smirk. "So she actually went through with the MRI? How'd that go?"

I let out a dry laugh. "Let's not talk about it." I stubbed out my cigarette butt in the grimy ashtray and immediately lit another. "Didn't know you were so soft with your patients."

"I'm not a monster, you know." He shrugged, gaze dropping back to his phone. "I do what's best for them, even if it means bending the rules a bit." He paused, a smirk once again forming on his lips. "She's pretty straightforward, huh?"

"Did you sleep with her?" I asked bluntly.

Satoru's head snapped up, eyebrows raised. "What, you think I'm screwing every student that walks through my door?"

"You seem familiar."

"She's nice. I was nice in return. That's all." His attention was already drifting back to the bright screen. "Besides, she works with Higurama. He asked me to keep an eye on her."

I exhaled slowly, the smoke a grey ghost against the darkening sky.

"She's doing okay, by the way," he offered without looking up.

My blood ran cold. 

I knew who he was talking about. We both did.

Satoru's gaze met mine, his smirk gone. "I know you want to ask."

Silence fell. I wondered if he could sense the fever-pitch of my pulse, if he knew about my feelings for her. Because the way he looked at me now, I had a sinking feeling he did. My fingers tightened around my coffee cup.

"It's not easy for her," I said, trying to sound indifferent.

"Yeah." Satoru's expression hardened. "I should kill Yaga over this whole mess."

"Still, her plan might actually work. It's a good one."

"Yeah, but at what cost?" His leg started its anxious bouncing again under the table. "She's pushing herself too damn hard."

He paused, then blurted, "We should leave this university."

"Like we talked about before you backed out?"

"You know why." He unlocked his phone again, only to lock it a second later with a sigh. "I can't leave her alone with these maniacs."

"The whole staying away from her thing isn't really working out, huh?"

"Of course not," Satoru scoffed with a weary sigh. "I should've known better."

I took a sip of the coffee gone cold and bitter minutes ago, watching him over the rim. He raked a hand through his hair, then tugged at the strands, his leg still bouncing under the table. Something was eating at him.

"You okay?" I asked.

"Yeah, fine," he replied curtly.

I watched him for a beat longer. He was clearly anything but fine. But I knew better than to push it. He wouldn't tell me anyway. Satoru always kept that shit bottled up tight.

But there was another issue too, wasn't there?

"How's the medication treating you?" I asked instead. "We should get your liver enzymes checked soon."

"Huh?" He looked up from his phone, clearly surprised by the question — as if he'd forgotten about his failing liver.

Just then, Zenin Maki and her friends strolled past our table. Okkotsu gave us a quick wave as they passed, and I returned a faint smile.

It was strange. She wasn't with them.

Come to think of it, I hadn't seen her around campus at all since we last crossed paths in the lab.

Satoru's gaze followed them as they scanned the outdoor seating area for a table. His eyes widened, then he quickly stood up. "Sorry, Suguru, I have to go," he said hastily, not giving me any explanation. But I should be used to this by now.

It wasn't the first time.

He was already gone, leaving his coffee cold and abandoned in his wake. I took another long drag of my cigarette, stubbed it out in the overflowing ashtray, and reached for my phone.

[12:15 PM] Me: So, Saturday at 9pm? Know a good sports bar if you're into that.

[12:16 PM] Attorney: Sounds good, love sports. Send me the address.

next chapter ->

author's note: i'm so thrilled to hear your thoughts on geto's pov! he's really struggling with gojo and s&c reader being the mess that they are and his feelings in all of it, but don't worry, he'll get his happy ending (with you) too hehe <33

i hope it wasn't too confusing though. this is my first time writing a spin-off, so if you haven't read symptoms and causes, it must be quite confusing at times. but the next chapters will focus less on the s&c reader and more on geto and the r&r reader of course. but i love how i can provide background info for s&c through this story and vice versa :)) & lastly, thank you so much for reading !! your support truly means the world. hope u all have a great day !! <3

pls comment on the masterlist for the taglist. or consider subscribing to the story on AO3, if you'd like to stay updated on future chapters.

🏷️ @nanamis-baker @whereflowerswenttodie @certainlysyko @ri-sa20 @biancaness

@roseified @rixo-19 @madaqueue @starmapz @alwaysfreakingout

@gojoluvs @totallytatum @shervinss

© lostfracturess. do not repost, translate, or modify my work.

[msschemmenti]

emily (derogatory) 🐮

jemily x reader

a/n: short and sweet lil drabble because i’ve got baby fever

“yeah?” y/n answered the phone distractedly.

jj and emily frowned in confusion as the younger woman’s voice filtered though the cell phone. her voice almost cartoony as she spoke. “baby? is that you?” jj asked.

“uh huh, what’s up?” y/n continued in the same voice.

“um, we just got back from the case and were about to head home.” emily supplied.

“yeah, do you need anything?” jj asked.

“oh yes! would you guys stop by the store and get me some baby wipes and a pack of pacifiers?” y/n asked sweetly.

“sure baby.” jj agreed, still very confused.

emily, forever direct piped in next, “is this some new kink youre exploring? we’ll get it but i’ll be honest i don’t know if i can get down with the whole little girl thing.”

the line went silent for a second before y/n scoffed in disbelief, “em honey, i mean this in the nicest way possible. shut up.” y/n heard the older woman huff and jj’s laugh. “it’s not for me, it’s for my niece who im watching this weekend.”

both women ‘oh’ in understanding and emily very sheepishly apologizes but y/n just shakes her head and bids them farewell. she looks down at the baby in her lap and grins before tickling her belly. “auntie’s girlfriend is a little crazy!” she cooed causing her niece to giggle.

-

when y/n swung the door open, both jj and emily’s hearts nearly melted at the sight of the baby resting on her hip. the littler girl was nestled into their girlfriends side, her tiny fingers wrapped around the necklace on her neck. the sight was absolutely adorable. “hi,” y/n smiled, turning to walk back into the house.

jj was the first to follow, itching to get her hands on that baby. “well hello there. who is this angel?”

emily closed the door and followed both women to the living room and fell into an arm chair across from the couch and watched.

“this is charlotte, but i call her lottie.” y/n grinned down at the baby, turning her to face both jj and emily. “isn’t she just the cutest?”

“oh she sure is, she’s got a head full of hair! gosh i bet your sister had crazy heart burn.” jj cooed reaching out to tickle charlotte’s stomach. the baby giggled and smiled at the blonde fondly. “she’s just about as cute as her auntie.” jj grinned allowing the baby to wrap her cubby hand around her index finger. it wasn’t long before charlotte was leaning her head toward jj and it was taking everything in her not to completely melt into a puddle.

y/n chuckled taking the hint, “lottie, i get it i get it i know she’s pretty.” y/n peaked around her niece’s head to check to see if jj was okay to take the baby and when she saw the way she was cooing and nodding at charlotte she extended her arms softly— passing charlotte over.

jj instantly melted against the back of the couch, attention fully capture by the baby. y/n watched, very familiar with the power little charlotte yielded. “oh charlotte! you are just so perfect.”

emily watched the scene fondly, she’d always loved watch jj with children and she wasn’t surprised that that had extended to y/n. jj so easily slipped into the high pitched baby talk and charlotte was in love. y/n rose from the couch and draped herself over emily’s lap with a soft kiss. “hi.”

emily tore her eyes from jj and the baby and squeezed y/n’s waist affectionately, “hi yourself.” y/n pressed a kiss to emily’s cheek before leaning into her side comfortably.

“hope you guys weren’t hoping for a wild and crazy weekend in the streets, my sister’s husband is having some sort of procedure and she’ll have to take care of him for the next couple days. and i’m obviously lottie’s favorite so im a mother for the weekend.” y/n explained.

“when do we ever have crazy weekends in the streets… now had you said sheets,” emily teased with a knowing smirk.

“god, if you weren’t so hot i’d wonder how you pulled any women being that dorky.” y/n teased causing emily to poke her side playfully.

“i am hot, aren’t i?” emily grinned.

“yeah and dorky as hell.”

emily pinched at the younger woman’s side and turned to reply but both women froze under jj and charlotte’s gaze, “look charlotte, your auntie and emily are being very naughty right now, aren’t they? i’m sure they don’t want me to separate them.” jj warned with a smile causing both y/n and emily to sink back into the chair sheepishly.

-

somehow, emily had been left to sit with charlotte while she finished her nap. jj had run home to collect appropriate clothes for the weekend and y/n was showering for bed. charlotte was laying on her back on the floor surrounded by pillows and blankets. and emily, well she’d started off lounging across the couch but charlotte had made a weird noise and somehow emily had ended up on the floor right next to her. watching her chest rise and fall attentively.

being that close and paying that much attention means when charlotte’s eyes suddenly twitched and her mouth twitch, emily’s eyes widened. the shower was still running and she knew jj wouldn’t be back soon enough. so when charlotte’s eyes locked on emily’s they both just stared a bit. emily had experience with children from the job but she hadn’t had to put anything she knew into practice in quite some time.

“hey.” she spoke staring down at the baby. no baby talk in sight. charlotte, as if she understood, groaned back her own greeting. “your auntie and jj are busy so it’s just us for right now.” charlotte huffed and emily too that as a response of course. “huh, you’re pretty smart. beauty and brains. definitely got that from your auntie.” emily brought her hand up to adjust the huge bow y/n had insisted on putting on the baby but charlotte caught her finger easily and pulled it toward her mouth. “nope, you can’t eat people. your auntie is really scared of cannibalism and i think she’d be really upset if she found out you tried to eat my finger. she really likes them.” emily monologued and tried to pull her fingers away from the baby.

charlotte didn’t like that. she didn’t like that one bit and when her face started to contort emily sighed and gave in to the big brown eyes staring back at her. “fine fine, no need to cry. you can have my pinky— we don’t get much use out of it anyway.”

after a while charlotte started losing interest in her fingers and reached for the necklace hanging from her neck. and then somehow emily had started making noises to entertain charlotte. she’d stumbled on animal sounds at some point and that turned out to be her biggest mistake.

“what does a cow say? you probably haven’t even seen a cow yet. just know they sound like this—“ emily leaned over and ‘moo’d’ quietly at charlotte. charlotte’s eyes widened and her tiny little lip trembled and before emily knew what was happening she was wailing. and of course like some sort of mothers intuition both y/n and jj suddenly appeared rushing to soothe the baby.

“emily what happened?” jj asked as she ran a hand over charlotte’s head while y/n bounced her against her chest.

“did you know if you moo at babies, they’ll cry?” emily shrugged sheepishly up at the women from the floor.

“emily…” both of her girlfriends groaned shaking their heads.

[redstarwriting]

the clash | ix. last caress

hobie brown x goth!reader

word count: 2.4k

genre: enemies to lovers

warnings: language, insults, cavity-inducing fluff, crying hobie, mentions of giving blood, mentions of procedures, needy cat, mention of weed, allusions(ish) to s*icide

a/n: omg writing fluff takes me so much longer than anything else cause i’m squirmin around and squealin BUT here it is! second to last chapter! (also, i’m not black so i hope i touched on the haircare for black hairstyles right! if i missed the mark please let me know and i will re-educate myself!) what a wild ride, i’ll get the last chapter either up late tonight, or tomorrow! thank you for reading and i hope you enjoy! 

previous chapter: viii. love you to death

now reading: ix. last caress

next chapter: x. brand new

───────────────────────────────────

When you wake up, the first thing you notice is the smell. Weed and incense. You groggily open your eyes, realizing you’re clutching a bat plushie. You grin. It’s cute, especially since it belonged to Hobie’s world, and you didn’t own a bat plushie. You sink further into the satin pillow, shocked at how comfortable you are in his bed. You hear the soft sound of a guitar playing, and you reluctantly and slowly sit up. Your intention is to go harass Hobie, but damn. Venom must have done a number on you. You’re sore as hell, and your energy is still almost completely gone. You successfully sit, but you’re immediately leaning against the wall as you do. The guitar playing stops, and you hear Hobie’s thick accent from the next room over. “You awake in there, love?”

“Yes,” you say, your voice is scratchy. How long have you been asleep? He walks into his room and leans against his door frame. He’s wearing casual clothes, his suit nowhere to be found, and yet somehow, he still looks cooler and more attractive than anyone you’ve ever met. “You know, you really should be layin’ down,” he says, and you shrug. He walks over to you and sits on the bed, next to your legs. You notice he has dark circles under his eyes, and he looks exhausted. “How are you feelin’?” he asks, placing his hand on yours. You shrug. “Honestly, been better.” He nods and looks down. You frown. “What’s on your mind there, Hobie?” He plays with your fingers, and you turn your hand over, grasping his. He visibly relaxes a bit. You softly squeeze his hand, and he squeezes back. “I… need to tell you somethin’,” he starts, “Somethin’… bad.”

“What…?” you look nervous. He looks at you and frowns. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

“Seeing the fireworks with you,” you respond, and he nods. “Good,” he mumbles, “I guess I should start with tellin’ you you been sleepin’ for three days now.”

“Three days?” you ask, surprised. He nods, “Yeah.”

“Have I been here the whole time?”

“Mhm,” he says, dreading the next thing he’s about to tell you. “I appreciate it, Hobie, but why not just take me home? Do I look like I need a caretaker?” you joke, and he smiles a bit. “Yeah, actually, you do,” he responds and you grin. “But uh… you are home now…” he says, and you look at him confused.

 “What?” He sighs, scooting further onto his bed and turning to face you with his whole body. His other hand reaches out, and he cradles the hand he’s holding with both of his hands. “Right, lemme just… start from the beginnin’, then. Venom takin’ control of you… that wasn’t meant to happen,” he says, staring at your joined hands. “What shoulda happened was Venom was supposed to take over m–… the Prowler. And then, uh… then he woulda become the spider of your world after Venom bondin’ with you for a short while and gainin’ your spider abilities before returnin’ to the Prowler…”

“So, there would have been two of us? One good and one bad?” you ask, and Hobie looks up at you with a sad expression. “…No. No, there woulda been one bad cause… well…”

“I was supposed to die…?” you whisper, and he nods, his grip on your hand tightening. “I woulda saved you either way, but… I accidentally-on-purpose interfered and–”

“You killed the Prowler,” you finish his sentence, and he looks at you surprised. “Venom mentioned something about you killing someone, so…” you mumble, and he nods. “Yeah… yeah, I kinda lost my cool for a bit after seein’ what he did to you and uh… took matters into my own hands,” he says, and you nod slowly. “What did Venom mean by you killed yourself?” Hobie freezes and looks down again. How the hell is he supposed to explain this one? Guess he’ll just say it and accept whatever reaction you have. “The Prowler on your world… was me,” he whispers the last part, feeling himself tear up. He prepares himself for you to pull your hand away and use what little energy you had to travel to Gwen’s world and never talk to him again. He would completely understand, learning that someone identical to him ruined your life in so many ways must be jarring.

So, he prepares for the worst.

What he doesn’t prepare for is to feel your hand on his cheek, gently wiping away a single tear that escaped down his cheek with your thumb. “That wasn’t you, Hobie. He may have had your face and your name, but… he wasn’t you,” you assure, and he swallows the lump in his throat. The anxiety wracking his body eases slightly, and he lets out a shaky breath. One of his hands comes up to grasp yours on his cheek, holding it there as he leans his face into it, closing his eyes. He feels another tear fall, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t agree with society’s take on masculinity. He opens his eyes again, looking at your face. “Don’t cry, love,” he hears you say, and he gives you a small smile. “Nah, that’s my nickname for you.”

“And?” you say, grinning at him softly, “I’m not one to necessarily give a fuck what you say.”

“Cheeky. You’re lucky I loved it,” he says, and you softly laugh. “But uh… right, so I killed myself, sorta.”

“In a way.”

“A different me. Did you know he worked with the cops?”

“Oh yeah. They hate me. Another clear indication that he is not you in any way except physical,” you say, and he grins. “Well, in the fight we had–”

“Did he hurt you?” you ask, and he shrugs. “He tried. I won, though. Obviously. But the fight was in Oscorp Labs, and durin’ it… I broke some glass, releasin’ Venom to the outside world like the bloody dickhead I am,” he explains, and you nod, but give him a look. “You’re not a dickhead, Hobie. If you weren’t there, evil you would have bonded with it because he wouldn’t have died, so… maybe it was a good thing?” you suggest, trying to lighten Hobie’s dark mood. “Maybe. But then Venom followed me back to your flat after I killed who it was originally supposed to bond with,” he says, and you frown. “It probably wanted to bond with you,” you say, and he raises an eyebrow. “It told me it feeds off of the life force of humans, and the easiest way to make it more powerful is for the host to have strong negative emotions. That’s why it taunts and belittles whoever it has control of. To piss them off. It probably saw the anger that drove you to kill and figured you’d be the best host.”

“But then I went home before it could attach itself to me, so it attached to you instead,” he mumbles, and you nod. He sighs. This really was all his fault. “Well… yeah so it attached to you, and then you remember what happened next.”

“Yeah,” you nod, and he rubs the back of your hand against his cheek with his thumb. “So, we did end up successfully killin’ the wanker,” he says, and you nod, “but in doin’ ‘at… we killed your world with Venom.” You freeze. “W-What?” You draw your hand away from his face due to the shock of the statement. He subconsciously grips your other hand tighter. “Venom was supposed to be the spider-person of your world… there were too many canon changes,” Hobie explains, and you feel your chest tighten. Now you’re the one crying. But seeing you cry and look so defeated makes him cry more. “I’m sorry, love. I’m so sorry,” he chokes out. He loosens his grip on your hand, fully expecting you to pull away, but you don’t.

“Everything… everything’s gone?” your voice is weak, and he opens his mouth to say something, but before he can, he’s interrupted by a meow. You turn your head, and see a black cat, looking up at you before hopping onto the bed and nuzzling against your side in an effort to cheer you up. “Shadow…?” you mumble, and he meows. But he doesn’t look like the Shadow you’re used to seeing. He looks more like a cat from Hobie’s world. “We saved what we could,” he whispers, and you look at him again. He smiles sadly at you. “I told Gwen, Miles, and Pav to grab everythin’ they could… they got everythin’ but the furniture, it’s all out in the sittin’ room… figured you probably wouldn’t want to move in with me after hearin’ bout what I did, so… we could move you to one of the other flats in the buildin’.  Y’know it’s an abandoned buildin’, so there’s loads of rooms, and you wouldn’t have to worry ‘bout payin’, and–”

“You made sure my things were safe…?” you cut him off, and he looks at you. His focus was drawn away from you during his rambling, so he didn’t notice the realization of just how much he cared about you spread across your face. “Of course… it was the least I could do,” he answers, “I also asked a friend for that lil bat for you to have while goin’ through the genetic procedure. it was all my fault this happened, so helpin’ you adjust–” 

“Adjust to what…?”

He takes a deep breath. “Miguel has a way to alter the genetic code of someone to have ‘em switch worlds… when we found out your world was gonna… disappear, we prepared. After the fight, I took you to Miguel and we successfully changed your genetic code. We did the same for Shadow, and all your things,” he explains, and you look at your hand. Sure enough, you look like you belong in Hobie’s world now. You didn’t notice the change before. Not until this very moment. “I had to give a lot of blood to continue to stabilize your genetic code changin’, so if I look like shit, that’s why” he admits to you, “But I would do it all over again without a second thought.”

“You don’t look like shit. That’s virtually impossible,” you mumble, and he smiles softly. You look down at Shadow, scratching between his ears with your free hand. Hobiie looks down, feeling another wave of emotion crash over him. He takes a shaky breath. “I’m so sorry, (Y/n). This all happened because of me… it’s my fault,” he whispers, and you gently put your hand under his chin, lifting his head to look into your eyes. “Stop doing that.”

“Doin’ what?”

“Blaming yourself,” you say, wiping away some of his tears. “Can’t help it,” he mumbles, his voice shaking. “You can. Just takes time,” you respond, smiling softly at him through your own tears. He wipes away some of yours in return as the two of you stare at each other, no words being spoken. His eyes flick down to your lips before returning to your gaze, nonverbally asking you for permission. You nod slightly, and the two of you slowly lean toward each other. When your lips meet, the both of you immediately relax into each other. The two of you stop holding the other’s hand, but you quickly wrap your arms around his neck as he wraps his around your waist, pulling you closer. You two only break apart from each other to take a breath, but you keep your foreheads together as the two of you stare into each other’s eyes.

“What makes you think I wouldn’t want to move in with you?” you whisper, and he grins. He gently rubs up and down your sides, humming in response. “Cause I’m an absolute turnip,” he mumbles, and you giggle. “Nah. You’re more like my hero,” you say, and he chuckles. “Always, my love. Always,” he whispers, kissing you again. You smile into the kiss, causing him to do the same. Shadow’s annoyed meow makes the two of you look down at him, and Hobie laughs. “Little mate can’t stand that he’s not gettin’ all the attention,” he says, taking one of his hands away from you to pet him. You yawn, and Hobie looks at you. “I think it’s time for you to get some more rest, my love. Your body’s goin’ through a lot right now,” he says, and you nod.

He moves to get up, but you tug on his arm. “You need rest, too, Hobart,” you say, and he grins. “Are you sayin’ you want me to stay?” he teases, and you roll your eyes. “On second thought…” you start and his smile falters. “No, wait,” he says a bit too quickly, causing you to laugh. “Get your ass in here before I change my mind,” you say, and he slips underneath the covers. He maneuvers you so that he’s underneath your body, and he holds you tightly to his chest. You bury your face in his neck, and he smiles. “You’re lucky I got my durag on,” he mumbles, and you hum in response, already starting to feel the effects of sleep overtake you. “Y’know, I thought you’d be a little more upset with me,” he admits, and you sleepily shake your head. “Death is inevitable, Hobie. Instead of giving into the inevitability of the end, I like to see the beauty in it. Although my life as I knew it has died, a new life is beginning, and I think that’s beautiful,” you mutter. He grins. “You are such a fuckin’ goth,” he mumbles, and you playfully smack his chest. “Maybe I was wrong before...”

“What’s that?”

“Maybe not all people are selfish assholes. I know one who isn’t,” you trail off, falling asleep. He softly kisses the top of your head, “Maybe I was wrong about some shit, too, my love.”

Shadow curls up beside Hobie, and he places one hand on the cat while the other keeps you pressed against him. He’s so tired, that he doesn’t move at all during the sleep that he gets, which is unusual for him. But at this moment, he’s never felt more content. Just him, you, and Shadow in yours and his home.

He could get used to this.

───────────────────────────────

『 tag list 』

@1eonk @444neapolitain​ @a-bit-late​ @afraidofshrimp​ @arianalovescatss* @aroaceg​ @arunabrak* @astrok1dz​ @baefy3764​ @casmosmoon* @ch6ntt @chill-guy-but-cooler​ @cl0udyw4ter​ @cursedbitchboy​ @d1nne​ @death-and-rebirth-again​ @dotheyevenknowmars​ @elloelloello293874* @epicy0n​ @f1shb0nez​ @faerieluuv​ @fandom-freak-123​ @fisshil​ @foundthethief​ @fukingsad​ @fushiguropleasesteponme* @frankintheoceann​ @friendly-reject​ @freeingrebels​ @g4bb1​ @hearts4hobie​ @hisdarlingabsurdity​ @hobies-world* @hobiesrockstargf​ @honeydewpie​ @idk-i-draw​ @imarealfungi​ @imobsessedreader* @ineedsomeconfidence​ @inkthgoat​ @iwillrisefromthefire​ @j3st3r-13​ @jadeissues​ @jayelyyynnn* @jingliuu​ @jinxedleo​ @jjkclub​ @katiebug0603​ @keikhuaa* @kenqki​ @ken-zah​ @khaleesihavilliard​ @kittekat420​ @kitty-kei​ @krispybearbouquet​ @kyirakyl3* @lacunaanonymoused​ @lightning-wolffe* @lilylamps​ @little-bunnybabe​ @localbeidousimp​ @luxlibsonwannabe​ @madusas-girlfriend​ @marshallowy​ @marsyay78​ @messylxve​ @minimari415​ @miracleboylene​ @miss-puregotti​ @mistpx* @miwagila​ @mm-0912​ @monsterroonio​ @moon-shampoo* @mrslandryy​ @naarra* @neenieweenie​ @nikabearr​ @certified-dilf-lover​ @noctysite​ @notplutos* @oh-kurva​ @p1nkliquor​ @pookiesnatcher​ @queen-of-the-bored​ @queen-of-the-grapefruits​ @romeomahbromeo​ @sadbitchhours400* @sammywammy1​ @scoliobean​ @shittingonyourgrave* @sillylittleguyinc​ @simplefools* @sin-sensual* @siriusly1​ @sparklyphantom​ @srystix​ @stars4salem* @starshine145* @stevenknightmarc​ @sxftiebee​ @tacogirl96​ @tengen-fourth-wife​ @tes-conscience* @thatweirdgirlsposts​ @the-ikran-man​ @tobanditto​ @tvije​ @umiexe​ @user2772636​ @valee1xoxo* @wannabe-fic-reader​ @weyrrii* @wheeeelys​ @woahrin* @xoxobabe* @zero-boxes​ @zozgurer​​

*if you are italicized - i am unable to tag you for whatever reason, feel free to reach out and see if we can fix the issue

if you asked to be on the taglist and i forgot, i’m sorry :( in the least conceited way, a lot of people have been asking and some of the requests get lost because my brain short circuits when i see how many people are following along. feel free to leave a comment on this or message me separately and i’ll get you right onto it!

[followthebluebell]

I have a friend whose cat was originally part of a TNR program. The kitty was found in the boiler room of our apartment complex, somewhat feral, and ear tipped, and was given to the friend after a few weeks of no one claiming the cat.

Now here’s the kicker, when she got the cat from them she took it in for a wellness check and was told the kitty was a boy. Fast forward about 2 years and their previous vet retired leading them to find a new one, and one of the first things they say to her after the exam is “you realize he’s actually a she right?” And told her the cat is a girl.

Is this something common with fixed cats? I know when males are neutered later you tend to see more of a deflated sack unless there’s a whole ablation performed, but I also know that’s not a super common procedure so I’m just kinda curious lmao

I wouldn't say it's terribly common, but things happen. One of my personal cats was listed as male for a few years because a vet tech had misclicked on her file and it wasn't caught for ages. Sometimes a kitten looks fairly male at first but then the balls don't drop so you check again and oops, that's definitely a vulva. I called Mouse a boy for a few months just because her genitals were pretty indistinct at first and I didn't bother to check again until it was time for her neuter since it genuinely wasn't important to know if she was male or female right up until that point.

There was also a fun confusing moment where I got a kitten from a shelter and the shelter was very clear that the kitten was a girl. Her paperwork was pretty clear, listing that she was spayed because of a uterus infection. So I was pretty fucking surprised when her balls dropped a few weeks later. I checked her chip and they had given me the wrong kitten.

Which was fine, it all worked out in the end. Hermes nee Hermione found a lovely home.

There was another time when I got a VERY fluffy himalayan cat named Princess. She was matted absolutely SOLID. I shaved her down and started to really struggle with a set of mats around her urogenital area--- I just couldn't find the space to get the blades UNDER the mat.

In fact, I realized, the 'mats' were oddly symmetrical. And had a certain feel to them. And a certain shape. And a certain placement.

They were balls.

Princess was absolutely a boy. To his credit, he was incredibly patient about my fumbling around his testicles.

With a significantly less patient cat, I could see a vet making a mistake. With a semi-feral (or a full feral), you might only have a split second to check and sometimes that's just not long enough.

[paper-mario-wiki]

I feel like I've ended up in the same spot as so transmasc before me: I have a lovely cis boyfriend who loves my tits which I love for him, but I am getting dysphoric to the point I wanna lift my lips and show a lil teeth when I see his hands coming towards them. Feels bad because they are his favorite and we haven't been fucking as much because as soon as he starts touching me I am out of it™ and get all in my head and freeze up. Any advice?

good god, brother. i am utterly baffled at why you have elected me as the strategist for this problem, and i'm even more confused as to why you have chosen to go into as much detail as you have.

but.

if i were to give you some advice on this

i'd say that you should consider a conversation with your partner about the long-term plan for the relationship. a "relationship" is two lives that are connected, right? and your life is not one where you're gonna have boobs for the rest of it (or at least based on what you've told me i would assume, should you have your way, those bad boys are gettin lopped off at some point), therefore it's pertinent that it be brought up, because it concerns your life, therefore it concerns the relationship, therefore it concerns him, yes?

now, the first and most obvious thing to start with out the gate is the boundary, made clear and concise: the hills are now closed, off limits to tourists. all discussions regarding this come next. make it clear that it's about something quite core to your identity, and something that does in fact cause physical pain (a panic response from the nervous system is pain homie).

this brings some followup questions (and remember, this isn't an interrogation, it's a dialogue to share): how does he feel about this? if he's against, why? for that matter, how much does it bother him? is there something he doesn't understand about your discomfort? is there some concern he has about your financial or bodily well-being with regards to the procedure? is it because it's vital to his attraction to you as a partner? if that's the case, would their removal be a deal-breaker?

now keep in mind, these question can be brought up whether or not you've got immediate plans to engage in the aforementioned lopping-off of your aforementioned Bad Boys, because the actual point of this dialectical exercise is to create a simple, easy to navigate, easy to understand conversation, which will set a foundation for further negotiations-- should you learn something new about each other, or yourselves, or the relationship as a whole.

either way, i do not think that letting it keep happening and keeping it to yourself is a good idea. i can understand feeling guilty about withholding some physical and emotional gratification you could give "easily" to this person you care dearly for, but trust me when i say that it's not the way to let it be. not just because it's unfair to your partner to secretly grow to resent them for a reason you don't want to vocalize, but to yourself as well.

you may not know it, but by keeping it to yourself you're slowly building up a resentment. that frustration actually shows up pretty clearly in your message. and even if what you're frustrated about is only that particular activity, that activity is irrevocably tied to another person. specifically, a person that you consider to be a pretty central pillar in your life. if that resentment grows, it can evolve into anger, hatred, fear, paranoia, and all sorts of nasty things. and even aside from the emotional and psychological damage that can do, it can grow into a physiological issue, where your brain wears out more and more due to the growing emotional distress ripping through your neurons with all sorts of "emergency" chemicals. like i said, the panic response is a physical pain, even if your body doesn't feel like it "hurts".

so. to summarize.

ABSOLUTELY bring it up. if you don't, it could become damaging to your relationship, and also your actual real life physical brain.

when you do bring it up, remember that the goals are to set a boundary, and to reach an understanding through mutual conversation. it's a dialogue, not a lecture.

when you reach an understanding, figure out if the relationship needs to be renegotiated in some way. that usually means new boundaries, or expectations. or maybe nothing! though surely your boyfriend can find more things to love about you.

that's as best as i can muster. you don't have to follow it, but hopefully it'll at least give you some ideas you can use.

[slowlydifferentbluebird]

An unforgiven mistake - Le Sserafim Western AU - Part one

A big shoutout to @mechaknight-98 who managed to push me outside my comfort zone and explore a new genre, more action focused. I can say I was able to not reveal the main interest till maybe the end of this first part. Let me know what y'all think about It🫂

Fort Hybe, 1860. It's another warm day in the base built in the West of a country that in the future was going to be one of the powerful in the world. Every resident of the outpost is carrying out their duties: patrolling the area, building guns, selling every type of goods. And what about you? As every morning, you were going toward the office of your superiore, the general Kim Chaewon, eager to discover and complete your assignments. "Good morning, general", you greeted her, performing the military salute. "Mhh? Oh, it's you, cadet. Yeah, morning or whatever", she casually replied, while looking out of her window, before walking towards the desk to read some papers. "You arrived at the right moment, I have the perfect task for you: an hour ago our soldiers captured an unknow individual who was acting suspicious, according to the reports. Bring her to Captain Yunjin to be interrogated and then come to report to me at the end", she ordered, lazily, yawning and looking to her pocket watch. "Yes, ma'am, I will do my best", you enthusiastically nodded. You really were trying your best to impress the general, you were not the greatest lover of this militar life nor you were the perfect soldier, but the huge crush on your superior was enough to make you choose such an hard path of life. You really would have fought a war for Kim Chaewon. And even if your limits were evident, despite her forever cold look, you managed to obtain her reliance; sure, you were still the lowest grade of the whole forth, but Chaewon still preferred to assign a big majority of duties to you among all the other people at her service. "Don't get too worked up tho, I'm sure it's nothing. Probably someone of your idiot comrades was just getting bored and decided to abuse his power and ruin the day of an innocent citizien", she explained, sighing and going back to the window, a sign that you could go.

After leaving the office, you went to the fort jail, where the majority of the cells were occupied by drunkards and petty thieves. After taking the cells keys from the prison guard, you walked up toward the room where "the suspect" was being hold. You were for surprised when you realized that behind the bars was not some loud woman or scary man, but just a really young and pretty girl, looking all confused and scared. "Uhm..are you the suspect arrested this morning?", you asked, scratching your chin, more puzzled than the girl in front of you. "Yes...but...I have not done anything, I don't even know why I am here", the girl with a really pale skin answered, barely holding back her tears. General Chaewon was right once again: there was no criminal to question; sure, she was not a familar face, but you really doubt that she was being a menace for anyone, the poor girl was terrified. "Don't worry, I'm sure it was made a mistake. I'm sure nothing will happen to you. What's your name?", you talked with a soft tone, crouching down to be at her level and reassure her. "I'm Kazuha, I live outside the forth", she replied, slightly less anxious in front of your kindness. "Well, Kazuha, even if I believe to your innocence, I have still to bring you talk with one of my superiors. It's just a formal procedure, probably you will be free in less than half an hour", you cut the ropes around her wrists and helping her to get up. There was really no need to keep her tied.

On the road towards Capitan Yunjin office, you kept reassuring Kazuha, that was slowly gaining trust in you. Just a few more steps before arriving to the building...when you felt a cold item on the back of your neck, and you could be not wrong about it, it was the barrel of a gun. "Let her go immediately, motherfucker", an aggressive voice ordered to you. "Do it or I will make jump the brain inside your dumb head", she added, pressing the barrel against your skin. "Let's calm down, this has to be a big misunderstanding", you stated, putting your hands up in the air. "Misunderstanding my ass, you are the bastard who arrested my sister for nothing", the angry woman shouted at you, slowly starting to pull the trigger. "Sakura no! You are wrong, this person was helping me out after listening to my story", Kazuha quickly stopped her sister, revealing the truth. "Is that so?", the woman called Sakura asked to her sis, who immediately nodded with ardour, eager to avoid her savior to be killed. "Fine, but my sister won't follow you inside that place, she's coming home with me", she declared, putting the gun down and grabbing Kazuha arm, ready to leave the fort. "And instead you're going nowhere", a familar voice interrupted the conversation. Now that your neck was free from the danger of being shut down, you were able to to look back and being hella surprised by two facts: Sakura, Kazuha sister, was incredibly beautiful. She was not tall or gigantic, but she was fit enough to run for miles and, most important, she had this powerful aura. Every part of her outfit was black: the boots, the top, the vest, the pants, even her cowboy hat. You would have been another couple of minutes to admire her, but the second fact was a bit more relevant in this moment: now was her turn to feel a cold feeling behind her neck. In fact Chaewon had her rifle pointed. "General, how did you know I was here?", you asked, surprised to see her outside her office. "The captain complained that you were late wth your task, and I know how much punctual you are. I just knew something happened, so imagine my surprise in seeing my favorite cadet being menaced by this scumbag", her tone went from daring to dangerous real quick, the will of revenge in her eyes. "No miss, please, it's not what you think", Kazuha, once again begged, her nerves really being tested that morning. You sighed because you know you had some explanations to do.

"So, are saying me that the general tried to save you from miss Sakura that was trying to save miss Kazuha because she thought you were the one who erroneously arrested her sister? What a fucking mess", Captain Yunjin exclaimed, summing up the whole misunderstanding, with the head between her hands. You simply nodded to confirm the whole situation. "Well shit, somebody has to be punished for this mistake...but it's nobody of the ones present in this room", she sighed, letting herself fall on a wooden chair. "Are we forgetting that this fool was about to kill our cadet?", the general Chae reminded pointing to the woman with the cowboy hat. "It's not that deep, General, I was about to resolve the situation anyway", you tried to calm her, minimizing everything. "I don't remember asking for your opinion, cadet, stay at your place", the general immediately scolded you, kinda hurting your feeling in that way. "General, with all due respect, maybe the newbie isn't completely wrong. I'm not saying that we should her let her go without any measure about her actions", the Captain suggested and when she saw the eyes were on her, she continued. "You two own an house and a piece of land outside the fort, right? Well, I propose that our problem-solving recruit can stay with them to check the situation", she offered as solution, but immediately Chaewon seemed to have a problem with it. "Absolutely not! I won't let the newbie stay inside the house of this crazy bitch?", she protested animatedly, slamming her hand on the table. "How did you call me? Also what are we supposed to do with that weakling?", Sakura bursted out, overturning her chair in the heat. "Sis, calm down. Maybe it's not a bad idea...a couple of extra arms can be helpful in this season", she calmly said, holding her sister arm. "Let's all calm down. Miss Kazuha is right, it's not a vacation, the mission is not just about checking the situation, but also helping the sisters with whatever they need. And General, I get your worries, but the also the cadet need some experience outside this place or the promotion will never come. Furthermore we're not abandoning anyone, we will send daily agents for a report", Yunjin immediately managed to bring the peace back, her solution looking now really sensible and rational. Chaewon hated to admit it but Yunjin was right, and yet she was still annoyed, so she just walked out, stomping on the floor. "Tsk, I guess it's fine for me, whatever will put an end to this ridicolous farce", Sakura puffed, rolling her eyes back. You really weren't sure about this measure, but it was more an order than a request. You sighed and got ready to the new adventure.

An hour later you were outside, all your important stuff gathered in a knapsack, with the two sisters. "Well, you took your time", Sakura commented, while finishing to saddle her horse, Kazuha already on hers. "Who am I going with?", you asked, your tone torn between kindness and authority. "No chance in the world you're coming with me", Sakura coldly replied, looking away. "Fine, I'll go with Kazuha then", you shrugged, directing your body towards the youngest. "What? No, hold on, you're not touching my sister...ugh, whatever, come with me, but you better keep your hands at their place.", the older sister immediately changed her idea, basically pulling you towards her "pet". Finally you managed to finally move. The style of horseriding of Sakura was like hers: unbridled, wild, unruly; more than once you risked to fall having nowhere to hold yourself, only your military training saving your bones. Sakura really didn't want to see again that General bitch, so after yet another risk of falling, she took your arms and placed them around your waist. "For fuck sake, stay still! No weird movements or I'll use you as fertilizer", she screamed, getting red in face for the sudden contact. You did as requested and really were surprised to feel her firm abs, your fingers tracing them on their own and for some reason the cowgirl said nothing about it. In the meanwhile Kazuha observed the scene from the side, giggling amused.

[verstappensrealwife]

Last Request - Fernando Alonso x Reader

Part 2/2 part 1 here. Angst. Fluff. Smut approx. 1900 words.

Warnings: Sex, P in V, oral (Fem receiving), swearing/cursing, drinking, being drunk

fernando alonso masterlist - here. f1 masterlist - here.

You hadn't seen him since that night. Of course, you missed him, but you couldn't have him anymore. It had been almost 3 months and still he wouldn't get out of your head. You couldn't stop thinking about him. About the way he loved you, the way he held you, the way he listened to every word you spoke.

Your friends however, agreed you needed to move on- or at least get a rebound. You really weren't sure about leaving your bed, nor up for the idea of a cheap hook-up to distract you from the once love of your life, but you agreed to go out with them since you did need to get out your apartment for a little while.

You went to a club in the nearest city- well a few clubs- and after a few drinks you were officially feeling like yourself for the first time in months. You took shot after shot, drank a dozen glasses of aperol spritz, and by the end of the night ended up singing Dolly Parton to a whole club of people for karaoke.

Once you stumbled off the stage, giggling to yourself about the applause you were getting, you realised your friends had disappeared. Huffing, you walked outside the club and you pulled your phone out, hitting your friends caller ID and immediately hitting call.

After two rings she picked up. "F-Fiona? Hey Fi, where are you. I think I'm a bit lost," You hiccupped down the phone.

"Y/N?" A man said.

"Who- Who are you!" You shouted at the phone confrontationally. "Where is Fiona Harris, Mister."

"It's Fernando," He said. On the other side of the phone, he was lay in bed, at 1am. He- in all honesty- was hoping you'd called him purposely, to get back together, or to meet up for... things... He felt slight disappointment when he realised he wasn't who the call was meant for, but he didn't hang up, he wanted to hear your voice again. "Where are you?" He said, already getting out of bed and pulling the first clothes he could find, on.

"Where's Fernando- w-wait..." You laughed at yourself getting the names wrong, "Where is Fiona?"

"Where is Y/N?" He asked, already out the door.

"I am at the club!" You announced happily, "The one with the pretty flamingo on the sign."

Fernando knew, by such a small clue, "Don't move okay, my lo– Erm, I mean Y/N,"

"Okay mister man." You slurred, "Can you stay on the phone please mister man..." You asked, but then interrupted him and started talking about how much you really hated the club scene. He already knew every single thing you spoke about during the quick 10 minute drive.

When he got to the club, you were leaning against the brick walls of the club, still talking into the phone as it the receiving end of your call wasn't 10 feet infront of you. "O-Oh hey Fernando," You hiccupped, "What you doing here- hey!"

He picked you up and literally carried you to his car- to any passers by they would be inclined to think he was kidnapping you. Once you were settled in his passenger seat and fought your drunk hands from trying to grab at his face while he was trying to put a seatbelt on you, he drove you both to his home. "When did you get this car..." You asked, as you inebriatedly messed with the radio, dash board, and glove compartment.

"A few days after you broke up with me..."

"Oh- I don't like that answer... Make a new one please."

He chuckled, "A new one?" You nodded quickly and snapped your fingers for him to hurry up with his new answer. "Oh- Okay... I got it last week after a party."

You smiled and nodded. "Is it home time now?" you frowned confused.

When you got to his house, you already knew the procedure he'd make you do. He did it anytime you were drunk.

First, drink water, water and more water. Check.

Then brush teeth. Check.

Then, attempt, to wash your makeup off. Half check.

And finally, kiss him goodnight...

You stepped out the bathroom into the bedroom. He was stood stiffly with a pair of your old pyjamas in his hands and another bottle of water.

"You- You are so good." You slurred, "C-can you help me." You said as you struggled to unzip the back of your dress.

He nodded, putting the items on the bed and turning you around. His hands lingered a little long on your shoulders after pushing your hair from your back. He, slowly, dragged the silver zipper down to the bottom of your back. He shamelessly stared for a moment before turning around. "What you doing?" You asked, "Why you not looking... You've seen before?"

"I- I know I have I just don't want to intrude."

"You can intrude..."

"Not when you're drunk," He replied. You simply nodded- not that he could see- and began to dress into more appropriate clothes to sleep in.

After a few minutes, when you got into bed, he was about to leave when you stopped him quickly, "Don't leave baby..." You babbled, tiredly. Baby... "I trust you- sleep here."

"I- I don't think–"

"I think yes. Come please." You demanded.

He gave in. Lying stiff next to you. You wriggled towards him, giggling to yourself as you, in your eyes, sneakily got over to him and grabbed him. He melted at the touch of your hands on his stomach and your head on his chest. You both fell asleep quickly, it was the first full nights rest Fernando had gotten in a while. When you woke up, you had rolled over to the other side of the bed. Nothing out of the ordinary since you moved alot in your sleep.

He heard you groan under your breath as you were waking up, then a gasp. You sat up quickly and looked at Fernando next to you. "Oh my god." You mumbled. "Oh, my god, oh, my god." You repeated it a few times before Fernando shut you up.

"I didn't sleep with you, stop shouting it is early." He said, in that deep morning voice you always loved.

"Oh."

"You called me drunk about how you lost Fiona and whoever else,"

"That's absolutely humiliating." You mumbled, "S-so nothing happened? Nothing at all?"

He shook his head, "Only you tried to get naked for me so," He laughed, when you groaned in embarrassment. "Don't worry, I looked away..." He said, "You want me to make you breakfast?" He asked, before you could reply he interrupted himself, "N- no, never mind I'll get you an uber- stupid thing to ask..." He mumbled, taking his phone from the side table.

You quickly snatched his phone. He looked at you stunned. "You know how i like my pancakes," You smiled. He looked at you, almost with hope in his eyes. When you smiled at him he felt his heart burst open. He shot up out of bed.

"These will be the best pancakes you've ever tasted," He promised. You chuckled and watched as he ran out the room, then minutes later hearing a clatter in the kitchen. You rolled your eyes and ventured the house to find him.

There was a bowl on the floor, three forks and a spoon, as well as a cook book.

You stared at his back muscles, you won't lie. You didn't forget he slept shirtless. "How's the cooking going 'Nando?" You laughed, his heart skipped a beat. He spun around quickly with a nervous look on his face. He slowly shuffled to the side to reveal a mess of what looked more like cookie dough than pancake mix. "Need help?" You laughed at him, there was flour on his forehead and half an egg yolk on the counter. He nodded silently. You're smile was still on your face as your laugh died down. You stepped infront of him, first throwing whatever he had made away, then picking up the items from the floor and finally standing infront of him. "You have a little..." You pointed at his forehead, he tried to wipe it off and missed. Completely. You smiled and pressed your finger to his head, carefully wiping it off his skin. He stared at your face, eyes, nose, the few freckles on your cheeks and finally your lips. He couldn't help but imagine himself against them again.

"Kiss the cook, huh?" You chuckled.

"Huh?" He was pulled out of his trance. You pointed to his apron, "O-Oh yeah, Lance got it me... the same day we uh... yeah."

You nodded silently, you were between the counter and his body, you hadn't even realised until he got closer and you were against the cold slab of marble. His chest was rising and falling quickly, his eyes staring all over your face, lingering on your lips.

You pressed your hands on his chest, he took a step back, maybe it was too far.

That was what he thought until your hands gripped the fabric of the apron and pulled him back into you.

"Is this wrong?" You questioned him.

"How can this be wrong?" He replied.

"Kiss the cook?" You asked quietly. He was quick to pick you up and put you on the counter, pressing his lips onto yours, he stood between your legs and held you by the waist, while you hands held the back of his head. "God, I missed you," you sighed.

"Not as much as me, my love." he replied, his lips then immediately back on yours. The kiss was needy, wanting and longing for you for months.

You pulled the apron off his body, putting your hands on his bare chest, wrapping your legs around his waist before he pulled you off the counter and to the bedroom. You shrieked a giggle as he carried you through the house, his lips never leaving your neck, his lips tracing the skin, savouring the taste.

He let go of you as you got to the bed, "This is okay?" He checked, to which you nodded thoroughly.

He pulled your pyjamas off your body like it was an inconvenience to him. He crawled down the bed and pushed your legs apart, licking his lips before putting his head between your thighs, your hands instinctively grabbing at his hair, your heels digging into his back as his hands firmly held the flesh of your thighs.

After pulling 2 orgasms out of you he was lining his cock up with your entrance. You nodded as he looked at you once again for a go ahead. He pushed in slowly, dropping his head to your shoulder and groaning curses. He sped up after a moment, and you quickly became a wreck beneath him.

A whining, moaning, shaking, wreck.

"F-Fernando..." You whimper, "I- I'm going to..."

You don't even get the words out before you scream and spasm, everything tingling and throbbing as you tighten around him, bucking and thrashing, pleasure and heat flooding your entire body. He's quick to follow you, bottoming out inside of you before pulling out of you and rolling next to you. "Jesus." You say, before laughing a little. "That was probably the best sex I've ever had."

He nods in agreement, he's staring at you like you're God yourself. "S-So does this mean like-"

"If you'd like to, then yeah it does."

You barely finish what you're saying when he jumps back onto you and smothers you with kisses making you laugh hysterically. "I love you so so much, my love, I'm not letting you go again," He announces, before getting up, pulling a robe over himself and then going to the window of the bedroom before shouting out of it, "She's all mine!"

El fin.

hope this was enjoyable. first fic I've wrote for Tumblr. anywho.

<3

[rinachains]

wc: 1.2k

contents: drabble; sukuna x gn!reader, established relationship, a bit of angst and fluff; modern!au (no curses), sukuna can't say sorry for his life, but both of you kind of suck at communicating lol

a/n: aghhh, this is the first drabble I'm posting on here, so bear with me :) reblogs and comments are very much appreciated!

You knew from the start that a relationship with Sukuna wouldn't exactly be conventional. Being with someone like him didn't promise an easy, smooth ride, but you knew what you were getting into. And it wasn't like you were someone who was easy to handle either.

Sukuna and you were basically like two peas in a pod- you would snicker and roll your eyes at others, exchange brash comments, crude words spilling from your sly mouths. It made you giddy. He was anything but a prince charming - if anything, he was more of a villain. But ever since you were a child, you felt more drawn to the antagonists, believing them to have a certain charm that captivated you.  

A match made in hell, your friends would jokingly say. The two of you weren’t particularly good people and perhaps that’s why you were so good for each other. After all, they do say that two negatives make a positive.

Your very first interaction consisted of you scowling at him and saying that he was ‘an embarrassing asshole trying to compensate for something he clearly lacks'. On that day - which you remembered more than well - you were in a café with your friend, and as you were on your way out, he bumped into both of you, causing your friend to spill her coffee on herself. Instead of apologizing, he just gave her a dirty look and started walking away before you stopped him and started berating him.

From that moment on, Sukuna was a goner. Of course, at first he was just irritated and annoyed by your audacity, but thoughts of you quickly consumed his mind afterwards, which in turn made him despise you even more. Only he didn't really hate you - the line between hatred and appreciation was thin for Sukuna, blending into a confusion of emotions that made it difficult for him. But Sukuna was not one to shy away from challenges, the longing for intensity was deeply rooted in his body.

Sukuna didn’t have a normal perception of love. To him, love was a nuisance and useless. But he found you interesting. There was an intensity to you that matched his own, that he could relish. You were unafraid to show yourself, indifferent towards the opinion of others, too headstrong for your own good. And you understood him, in a twisted way. And he was able to understand you. Maybe that was what he needed this whole time – an equal. Someone who didn’t hold back and wouldn’t try to make him hold back.

When you finally started going out, which was a silent procedure since you two didn’t use the words ‘dating’ or ‘going out’, there was a surprising harmony between you. Meaningful conversations formed easily, playful quips and taunting inbetween, keeping each other on your toes, and there were moments of silence that you basked in, not feeling the need to fill it with unneccesary words. It was comfortable; like the spring breeze, promising something new, something fresh, but still holding an air of familiarity, bringing in a sense of comfort. Until then, Sukuna had never believed that he would ever experience anything like this. Sometimes he thought you were just a figment of his imagination, a product of the loneliness that had clung to him all his life.

So when Sukuna first saw the tears in your eyes (the same ones he always subconsciously looked for, no matter where you were), standing out so brilliantly against your glassy eyes that he felt like he was going blind, and had to resist the urge to turn his own away from them, he also felt overwhelmed for the first time. It didn't help that those tears were forming because of him, a reaction to his words leaving his mouth. It was a thoughtless remark on his part, said out of a moment of disdain, which wasn't necessarily anything new, but this time it obviously hit something deep inside you, and Sukuna knew he’d screwed up. Badly.

He never thought twice about something he said, especially when it was something harsh, simply disregarding the consequences of his hurtful words. So why did he suddenly have this heavy feeling forming in his chest, making it hard to breathe? This bitter taste in his mouth?

Sukuna remained silent, his face unreadable and blank like a sketch where the artist had not drawn a face but only the outline of a head. As he stared at you, your cheeks flushed blotchy and you tried to swallow the embarrassment creeping up your throat, blinking a few times to clear the wetness in your eyes.

You didn't want to be weak in front of him – that’s not who you were. You always prided yourself on not showing weakness in front of others, but at the end of the day, you were only human. What if he left you, now that you got this emotional? What if he decided you were too weak, too big of a nuisance to be with? You destroyed the perception he had of you, you were sure of that. 

Silence hung over you like a heavy blanket, trapping you both and making it hard to move. What exactly were you waiting for? For him to apologize? Words like ‘sorry’ never rolled smoothly over your tongue, your own pride and discomfort holding you back. So how could you expect that from him? You didn’t truly know what you wanted. Perhaps reassurance? A sign that he didn’t think any less of you now? That he didn’t mean what he said?

After a few seconds (which felt like minutes, even hours) had passed, you cleared your throat, eyes flickering to the the clock hanging on the wall behind him. You were running late for work.

“I have to go now”, you managed to breathe out, voice slightly scratchy from holding down your emotions.

“Right.”

By the time you got home around 8pm, exhaustion was present in your bones, your body weak and head foggy. Being away for a few hours helped you calm down and get a clearer head, although the embarrassment still seemed to cling to you. Should you just pretend nothing happened? Ignore him? Be cold towards him? You didn't really want to talk about it, you were too tired from the day, from everything.

There was no goodbye following your departure. Sukuna was left with an empty feeling in his chest, his hand reaching out to grab at it. He hated it.

But as you hung up your coat, with conflicting thoughts running through your heavy head, a smell you knew only too well reached your nose and caught your attention: it was your favorite food. Sukuna has cooked it for you a few times before; each time he has grumbled about how long it takes to make and that some of the ingredients are crazy expensive - he never said it was too difficult for him though, he can make any dish, in his eyes there is no complicated one.

The special thing was that you never had to tell him out loud that it was your favorite dish, he just guessed it from your reaction every time you ate it.

The moment you smelled his cooking and heard the clink of dishes being placed on the table where you shared every meal, you knew immediately - that was his way of apologizing.

[maximwtf]

 “What kind of a moron gets shot…”

Izzy x Reader

words: 1970

google docs pages: 3,5

warnings: blood, a gunshot wound, slight alcohol use

opening: A medic, you get shot in a crossfire. It’s only after things have settled a little that anyone has time to notice you. No one but you are used to removing bullets, so obviously the crew chose the next most experienced pirate to help you with your instructions. Izzy. 

AN// Reader can be any gender! I finally started watching this series, after putting it off for so long and oh my god do I love this man more than life itself. I would die for him. Anyway, sorry if this is a little ooc, I’m learning how to write for him ! Requests for him would also be lovely, I have so many ideas that I don’t even know what to write :D

 “What kind of a moron gets shot…”

The feeling of rain hitting your face kept you to your senses, additional moisture to the already wet wooden deck you were laying on. At least you had made it back, but that did not remove the fact that someone from the other ship had gotten a good shot at your thigh. For that reason, you didn't mind the wet fabric sticking to your skin. The waves of pain radiating from your thigh were enough to keep your mind from thinking of anything else. 

Your body curled up a little, hands going to hold the place of the wound on their own, or at least that’s what it had felt like. Like your body was moving on its own. There wasn’t much of a thought process happening in your mind, though it felt like you should have known what to do. You’d removed more than one bullet in your time, and it wasn’t a rare procedure to perform for you. But never could have you guessed the amount of pain a bullet wound caused. You’d only ever helped someone else and seen them try their best to stay still for your sake. As much as you had hoped these thoughts would have distracted you from the pain, they didn’t. The pain was still raging, making you groan and grunt silently against the deck. Or at least what you thought had been quietly up until voices became audible around you. They’d been there before as well, but they’d become somehow louder by now. Like the people that sounded further away were now closer. The crew must have noticed something was wrong.

You opened your eyes, still curled up on the deck. Most of the crew were there, standing near you. From your perspective and what was left of your vision, they seemed concerned. But probably rightly so. Most of them had become quiet, only light chatter among them. “Well, fucking someone help me.” You growled, allowing the words to come out and going back to gritting your teeth straight after. The chatter got louder for a moment before someone was pushed out from the group. By the sound of his voice, you identified him quite easily. The first mate of Blackbeard’s, Izzy. He did not sound keen on doing this, insisting for someone else to do it before accepting his fate. But you and mostly everyone else in the crew seemed to agree on him being the most experienced for this, after you. 

You knew their first idea would have been to just cut off the whole leg, but for the amount of times you’d helped them you were hoping they’d see this as owing it to you and actually helping.

Your vision was getting a little more blurry, not badly but enough to make things a lot more confusing. You tried to keep a straight head, knowing you’d have to assist Izzy while he got the bullet out. While these thoughts were running through your mind, two of the crew members of which you hadn’t seen who carried your form to the lower decks. No more of the rain, you thought. They cleared a table, and by the sound of it they must have just sweeped the items on it to the floor and placed you on the smooth surface instead. 

There was a moment of silence before through your haze you could hear Izzy’s voice clearly. “Well, fuck off? No need for an audience.” He said, and by the sound of it the people previously there made their way back up. “Cut the…the pant leg.” You said, not wanting to waste any more time. Izzy looked at you, doing as you said but with slight hesitation. “How does a medic manage to get shot?” The first man asked in a voice you wanted to believe was annoyance, trying not to find a hint of worry from his voice. You didn’t want to imagine a man worried for your life trying to save it. “Guess the bullets couldn’t resist a…a checkup.” You took a quick breath, gritting your teeth as the fabric was pulled off from over the wound. Izzy didn’t say anything to that, perhaps it had been a bad time to joke either way. You didn’t have time to waste, for anything from the bullet could leak to your bloodstream if you kept stalling. “T-take off yer belt-” You had to take a breather before continuing, but that was enough for Izzy to give you a dirty look, which you were glad you couldn’t see properly through the slight blur. “And wrap it a little higher from the wound…” You finished the sentence, trying to stay still on the table. “Gathered that much.” He said, voice still stern as he undid his belt and wrapped it tightly around your thigh. “Get yer knife…and dig..dig the bastard out.” You breathed out, closing your eyes for a moment as you braced yourself for what was about to come. 

The sound of Izzy taking out a knife from his belt opened your eyes once more. You took a weak hold of his wrist before the first mate was able to start the process. “If I lose consciousness after…take the fabric you removed and..and use it to close up the wound after cleaning with rum…” You instructed him before your hand let loose from his wrist. His eyes were on you, you could feel it. Yet, he did not say a word. It worried you, but you didn’t want to tell him that. You wanted to think that he didn’t care. As many times as you had spent time with him, he did not care for you. Maybe, just maybe, he enjoyed talking to you from time to time. 

You took a hold of the edge of the table, which was worth it. Because as soon as Izzy had dug the knife into the wound you screeched. Using the palm of your hand to cover the rest of the horrendous noises leaving you, feeling hot tears push their way through and fall down the sides of your face. The gritting of your teeth helped, somewhat. The feeling of the blade hitting the bullet sent a mix of shivers along with waves of pain through your body.

You tolerated it for a while, in a way proud of yourself for that, this being the first time a bullet was being removed from you. Though, that did not last long.

The dim lights in the lower deck began to seem darker, and your body wasn’t contorting itself the same way as before. In a way you felt more relaxed this way, though the darkness that had started to slowly surround you was something you didn’t look forward to. A faint sound of the bullet hitting the wooden flooring as the knife left your body was the last thing you heard. Your consciousness faded away, leaving Izzy alone with bloodied hands and a mess on the table. 

His gaze shook a little, but he stood still at the table. Thanking whoever had left a bottle of rum in the lower deck. Izzy took a hold of the brown bottle and took a swig from it himself. With a second to think, he poured the liquid from the bottle straight onto the wound. It felt odd not to hear you instruct him, not that he needed it anymore. But you being so silent, seemingly dead to anyone else's eye who might have walked past, it shook him a little. As many people as he had killed and seen dead, none of them had affected him this way. The thoughts of your death filled his mind for a brief second, before the first mate shook them away. He wasn’t sure how much to pour, stopping eventually. He thought you might like the rest of it once you woke up. In his experience, rum was good at numbing feelings. Just what pain was, only a feeling. 

Izzy wrapped the wound best he could, leaving the belt on. You hadn’t told him what to do with it after, and that had only now occurred to him. As much as his duties would have commanded for him to leave you with the rest of the crew, he did not want for you to wake up in the noise and smell that was the crew’s quarters. Was what he told himself, not being able to ask for your opinion. 

He might have not been the tallest man on deck, but that did not mean he was weak in any way. He picked you up easily, carrying you to his quarters. Barely a spot for sleeping fit there, but he managed. 

The first mate laid your still form onto the small bed, seating himself onto a box next to it. His eyes stayed on the bed for some time before a sigh left his lungs, turning his eyes to his hands. He placed them over his face for a while, the burning feeling of tears trying to push through all too familiar at this point. They never truly fell down, so it did not count as crying for him. A pirate didn't cry.

So he sat there, the held-back tears reddening his eyes a little as he leaned on the wall behind him and stared at the other in front of him, keeping his gaze up. He felt conflicted, more so than usual. He hadn’t thought of you, not of how much he seemed to care. Sure, the two of you had spent an odd amount of time together, but you preferred to be alone or at least at the sidelines, so did he. So, for long it had been a coincidence that you bumped in together. And during those times you spent together were almost enough to make him feel alive again. But when you didn’t, was when he truly felt lonely. And so he did now, now when you were unconscious. A sharp breath drawn by you caught his attention back. The end of it started sounding more like a hiss than anything else. Your eyes tried to open slowly, but the sheering pain forced them to snap open with yet another hiss. You curled up on the bed before your eyes landed on Izzy. His mouth was slightly agape, but soon realised to hand you the bottle from earlier which you gladly accepted. After a long swig you handed it back to him, hand shaking ever so slightly. Eyes focusing on him now, vision back to what you remembered as normal. Even with Izzy keeping his gaze quite low, you could see the slight tint of red in his eyes. The first mate hadn’t said anything yet, so you decided to break the silence. “Have you been crying?” Came out rustier than intended, but the teasing tone of voice was still clear somewhere in there. Izzy’s jaw tightened, but he must have backed away from what he wanted to say. “Sod off.” He looked away for a moment, expression much softer after from what you could tell. Though, he seemed stiff. Like he was shaken in a way you’d never seen him before. “Izzy-” You sighed, not sure what to say to him, so instead you thought of something else. His other hand was resting on the edge of the bed. Expecting him to pull away at the very least, you placed your hand on his, but he didn’t. He allowed your slightly warmer, shaky palm to warm his colder hand, badly wiped away blood dried on it. “Thank you.” You said silently, not to disturb the oddly peaceful silence that had formed from the slightest of connections. Izzy turned to you, moving his hand further on the bed, not adding anything to that. The touch was a thank you enough, more than enough to him. 

[miraclecherryblossomsblog]

I had another au idea......actually been holding onto this one for a bit might as well share it

TW reader's a monkey.......AGAIN omg, interdimensional shi happens, lots of other fandom references, giving birth, babies

Ok so not really sure how to explain this so bare with me ok?

But what if you lived in a world that is jttw inspired? like monsters and gods exist buts its different as if its more modern era...magic exist but also contributes its energy for technology and stuff. Laws work more so the same like ours, mortals and immortals coexist, sorta like hsr (honkai star rail)

what if.....you were the wukong in your world?

this gonna be long I AM SORRY ONCE AGAIN this is the intro so no wukong x reader yet in this one

part 2 here (not yet in the making)

BEFORE YALL COME AT ME NO I DON'T MEAN YOU BEING WUKONG just to be clear....I mean you were sorta in the same place as him like spiderverse I mean

Like you have certain abilities like his but not completely equal

Unlike wukong who was born outta a rock you were born normally, cuz you WERE suppose to be born human hence your parents.

But why are you a monkey if your parents are human you ask? Its cuz u got "blessed" by the stone deity. You see in the time of your birth your family moved to the mountains due to the war that was happening between humans and demons cuz humans dumb and broke the agreement between species

Anyway your family went in, barely escaping the chaos of the situation, they managed to find a cave that looked rather pristine for looking abandoned, they found a small house or rather looked like a house...it seemed to be part of the rocks itself, your ma's contractions are starting so your pops quickly gets your ma inside not before being welcomed by an elder monkey (NOT WUKONG OK just a elder monkey)

He offers to bring help to deliver the baby, your dad not having much choice he accepts and both go in to start the procedure

The elder monkey calls for more of his people to help, female monkeys quickly gather and prepare the stuff

as your mother does the final push a mysterious female voice starts to speak, saying how you're destined to become a strong warrior who will bring peace between worlds and protect to those who can't

Your dad confused sees the others monkeys being in sorta of a praying position as the others help your mother, that's when your cries start your father quickly wanting to see you and mother wanting to hold you. And they do, both are so happy and thankfull filled with tears and laughter until your lil body starts to glow into a yellow light

your body that was once smooth is now replaced by slight damped fur, you face once human now possesses humanoid monkey features, a tail pops out of the blanket slight curled to your body

and now you're thinking "well shi that means were orphan then cuz our parents don't wan us no more-" NUHU THEY LOVE U WITH ALL THEIR HEART they just took a long moment to take everything in lmao

The elder offers yall's to stay and live along with the monkey since now u lil bby self is basically part of the pack now, and ofc they accept and well mark history as the first humans to live alongside the monkey people

Was it bit difficult to get used to? yes, did they had their own ideals that sorta didn't go well in living there? also yes but they decided to learn about the culture and become more open minded for not only their sake but yours too.

You got like a whole village as your family now, they all had their doubts letting humans in but by time it showed that you parents were lot more better than the other humans who they had encountered in past times

so yaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyy happy life u being a well loved monkey <3

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

A/N: will have a part 2 depending how this goes but hope yall liked this brainrot of mine <3333333