#another from long list of my OCs
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What a shame… you always had such beautiful hair
#my art#artists on tumblr#the legend of korra#seeds of the red lotus#original character#sotrl haya#found this about 90% finished in one of my Procreate folders and decided to finish it off#apparently we’re on a RL siblings roll lately#oh Haya. Haya Haya Haya…#what can I even say about her?#she’s very high on the list of the worst OCs we have ever created. she’s truly a vile human being with 0 redeeming qualities#and yet.. here she’s just fourteen. lost and confused and grieving#a little brother on her hands and no one to turn to. to lean on. no one to take care of her#she’s a child. she isn’t supposed to have to be the adult because there’s no one else to take up the mantle#she’s a victim of awful circumstances who nevertheless had the CHOICE not to perpetuate them. but she did#and that’s why what she did is unforgivable#but that’s a talk for future Haya. how about we focus on this Haya for now?#I imagine this takes place at some point not long after her parents die#she looks more like Siamak than Afarin but she did inherit Afarin’s hair. it reminds her of her every time she looks in the mirror#and after a while she can’t take it any longer#so she stumbles into the kitchen late at night. pulls scissors out of the drawer and goes wild#but it doesn’t bring any relief. she looks at her curls scattered all over the floor and she just feels worse#the scissors fall out of her hand and it takes everything in her not to cry because Ghazan might wake up and hear her#so she just stands there in the dark kitchen. feeling utterly alone in the world#and she truly. truly is. isn’t she? she’s alone. an orphaned girl no one will ever care about again. how awfully sad is that?#anyway. moving in before I start crying. you know what I just noticed?#the way I drew this implies the scissors fell out of her left hand. meaning likely she was using her left hand. meaning she’s left handed#just like Suiren is. does that mean Suiren inherited that FROM Haya? that it’s yet another similarity they share? well it wasn’t intentional#but now that I’ve though of it… yes. yes that is exactly the case. and I’m close to biting into a wall because of it#did I ever mention that Suiren is left handed before? I can’t remember. but I decided she was +- five years ago. so it’s always been canon
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tips for getting people to like your ocs
*disclaimer: this is based on what’s worked for me, aka an artist that likes to make comics/storyboards. so this advice is directed at people who do that
you can do things like this:
Which is fun! Character sheets like this are great, especially for personal reference! But frankly, I don’t think most people engage with this (at least I personally don’t). You could have the coolest character in the world, but it will be harder for most people to feel invested when they’re presented so neutrally like this.
My main piece of advice is: get better at writing.
That might sound harsh when said like that, but let me explain what I mean! (Not trying to imply you’re bad at writing either!)
What I tend to do is just throw characters into situations with as little handholding as I can. Give enough context that readers can follow along, but don’t feel like they’re being explained to.
what can you learn about the characters through their designs alone? (age, personality, economic status, occupation, etc)
what can you learn about the characters’ relationship though their interactions alone? (are they close? familial? romantic? is there hostility? are they tense/relaxed?)
what are the characters currently doing? what were they doing previously (how long have they been talking)? what are they going to do next? can you convey this without dialogue?
how do they feel about what they are doing? are they content? focused? over/understimulated? would they rather be doing something else?
where are they? does it matter? would establishing a setting in at least one panel clarify the scene? is there anything in the enviroment that could tell some of the story?
what time of day is it? what time of year is it? what is the weather like?
Now, with all this in mind, I'm going to give you another example. I'm going to use completely brand new characters for the sake of the experiment, so you won't have any bias (aka I can’t use Protagonist from above, since you already know all about him).
Did this get more of an emotional response from you than the first example? Why do you think so? Who are these characters? How do they know each other? What else can you infer about them? What happened? Who is "she"?
Now, you don't have to actually answer all those questions. But think about them! You can tell people a whole lot about your characters without ever showing them a list of their likes and dislikes.
Obviously, comics aren't the only way to get people invested in your original characters! But regardless, easily digestible formats will grab people's attention faster than huge blocks of text, and comics are a lot less work than doing wholeass storyboards.
Now go and share your ocs with the world!!!
#edit: I rephrased some things in this post for better clarity!#my art#art tips#original character#writing#comic
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nearly oc-tober time again - time for some prompts for 2024
F.A.Q
do i have to draw?
not at all! you are free to participate with any medium that suits you... writing, artwork, free bases and templates, simple text posts, in-character-as-your-oc roleplay, whatever! (just no stealing or AI)
do i have to make new content?
nope! re-uploading old stuff that fits the prompts is allowed (and encouraged) ... old art that didn't get the appreciation it needed always deserves a chance to be shared again, it's a fun throwback!
do i have to post every day?
nope! only 10 days are mandatory (the ones in red with a star symbol) and everything else (yellow) is 100% optional! if you're busy or tired, please skip as many as you want
can i start early?
you can prep your posts in advance if you need to ... but please wait until the right day in october to share them!
can i re-upload your prompt list to another site?
i would prefer if you dont - i have accounts on most sites, so just reblog/retweet/share from me!
event tag?
#bweirdOCtober
have fun!
image desc/text version ↓under the cut↓ or on bweird.art/october
prompts:
WEEK 1: OC INTRODUCTIONS
⭐ 1: FAV OC
what makes them your fav?
2: NEW OC
how recently did you make them?
3: OLD OC
how long ago did you make them?
⭐ 4: UNDER-APPRECIATED OC
an oc you feel like you don't talk about enough, or you haven't fleshed out as much as you would like
5: RE-DESIGNED OC
an oc who has changed a lot (what changed about them?) or, if you haven't redesigned an oc: is there anything you might want to change about an existing oc?
WEEK 2: BUILDING BACKSTORY
⭐ 6: PAST
where is your oc from? what did they look like as a child?
7: LIKES
what do they like (and why?)
8: DISLIKES
what don't they like (and why?)
⭐ 9: RELATIONSHIPS
doesn't have to be romantic! can any kind of relationship (frienship, family, rivalry etc)
10: PERSONALITY
what are your oc's main personality traits
11: SYMBOLISM/THEMES
what represents your oc? is there a specific colour you associate them with, or a specific animal?
12: FUTURE
what will your oc look like in the future? do they have any plans or goals?
WEEK 3: FUN + GAMES
⭐13: MEMES
do any memes remind you of your oc? are there memes your oc would find funny? maybe you want to redraw your oc as one?
14: WHO/WHAT INSPIRED YOUR OC
are there existing characters that your oc looks like? was your oc based on yourself? is your oc originally from a specific fandom?
15: MUSIC
share a character playlist, write a songfic, post lyrics that remind you of them, etc
⭐16: EYES CLOSED or NON DOMINANT HAND
draw a picture of your oc with your eyes closed or with your non domminant hand, write or type a paragraph about them without your eyes closed, etc ... have fun, and don't worry about it looking "bad" -it's meant to!!
17: DnD ALIGNMENT CHART
put all your ocs into a DnD alignment chart, or any other similar chart if you prefer
i've compiled a few templates on my site, but you can find more easily if you google "oc alignment chart"
⭐18: SWAP
swap something between your ocs - their role in the story, hairstyles, personalities, fashion taste, species ... whatever you want! how would this difference change them?
19: PALETTE CHALLENGES
draw your ocs with as many of these colour palettes as you want (or just skip if you don't draw/don't like doing these!)
hex codes for the colours:
palette 1 - #3C1E81 #6D1EA2 #B059E8 #FE0876 #FE5284 #FE7C96 #E0CFE3 #FFD5C3
palette 2 - #352823 #673F28 #AB541C #BA8233 #897128 #A68B2F #F7BF6A #DAC3A4
palette 3 - #A42E25 #D7412B #E47C29 #F7A233 #FCC02D #FCE4A6 #486548 #FEFDE8
palette 4 - #2F4769 #39597E #53779C #94D1E7 #AADDE7 #D48DB7 #D498B5 #D2BABA
WEEK 4: COMMUNITY
20-26: A WHOLE WEEK OF SOCIAL STUFF
if you don't have the time/energy to do every day this week, ⭐ day 23 is the only one marked as mandatory! you can skip the rest!
some ideas for what you could do: talk about a friend's oc you like, make gift art/writing of them, collabs, trades, reblog/appreciate ocs in the event tag, make interactions between your ocs and other people's
WEEK 5: HALLOWEEN
⭐27: FEARS
is your oc scared of anything? do they have any phobias? are they startled easily? would any of your ocs try to scare ppl on purpose?
28: MONSTER
what would your oc be if they were a monster (eg: werewolf, vampire, eldritch beast.. whatever) or, do you have an oc who is already a monster?
29: PUMPKIN CARVING
your ocs carving pumpkins, a drawing of a pumpkin carved to look like your oc ... or even carve it in real life!
30: GHOST
this can be literally a ghost, or a concept that haunts your oc! up to you!
⭐ 31: COSTUMES
what are your ocs wearing for halloween?
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jungkook fic recs list (part 1) ౨ৎ

hi!! :) here’s a list of some of my favorite jungkook fics on this app. all of these authors are so talented and i absolutely love their writing! i have soooo many jk fics saved here so i might make another lists soon <3
a- angst f- fluff s- smut
series (completed)
the love prognosis by @awrkive
medical!au, surgeon!jk, surgeon!(fem)reader, corporate lawyer!mingyu, rommates!au, f2l (a , f, s)
for as long as you can remember, you've always been a hopeless romantic. the girl who’s always dreamt of cheesy encounters with her soulmate, grand love declarations, and a cute little beach wedding to boot. but reality pretty much slaps you hard right on the face, because love, unfortunately, doesn’t come grand — it’s simple and it’s quiet, but it is quite painful, especially when the love that you’ve been seeking for all your adult life has just been right under your nose all this time.
the cocktail trilogy by @borathae
strangers to lovers!au, diner!au, biker gang!au (a, f, s)
You always thought of your life as nothing exciting. Small town, stable job at the local diner, a roof over your head and nice friends. It didn’t take much to make you happy. But that all changes with the arrival of Jeon Jungkook, mysterious biker with dark hair, tattooed skin and a preference for leather jackets. It doesn’t take long for you to realise that life has so much more in store for you and Jungkook is happy to show you all of it…
inevitable by @ahundredtimesover
exes au, parents au, dad jungkook, baseball player jungkook (a, f, s)
You convinced Jungkook to break up years ago so he could pursue his lifelong baseball dream. Now he’s back home, staring at you, and the little boy next to you who looks unmistakably like him.
two point five by @bratkook
handyman!jungkook (f, s)
Who would have thought booking a handyman from an app would lead to this. Sure, you wish he’d mount you instead of just your television, but you could totally be friends. Right?
between takes by @jeonstudios
porn star!jk x f fluffer!reader, porn star au (a, f, s)
as a fluffer for a popular porn star, your focus is to keep him hard and performing on set. turns out he's not the only thing that's hard
chasing cars by @oddinary4bts
brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader, Hoseok x female reader, forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au (a, f, s)
when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?
still don’t know my name by @dollfaceksj
mini three-shot, cybersex, enemies (s)
In which your annoying neighbor—that you can’t stand—turns out to be the person behind the online account you’ve been sexting. You still don’t know his name.
series (ongoing)
colour me in by @taegularities
fwb, fake dating, college!au (a, f, s)
Jungkook's door only opens for you when there's a barter: a trade of lust and haze. But today you knock for something more, as intriguing as it is frightening – and you hope it doesn't close his door forever.
mutual help by @personasintro
fake dating au, slow burn (a, f, s)
in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help
to build a home by @soft4gguk
dilf!jk x nanny!oc / ceo! jk / strangers to lovers (a, f, s)
at twenty-eight, jungkook sees himself go from a family of three, to one of two - heartbreak never comes easy, but nothing could've prepared him for being a single parent as a result of Ira walking out on him. pain brings chaos and he's in need of help. it's only fateful that you so happen to be a blessing in disguise... in many ways than one.
oneshots
jump then fall (into you) by @writtenwhalien
cruise au, fake dating au, best friends to lovers au (a, f, s)
bringing Jungkook along as your date to your ex’s lavish cruise wedding seemed like a perfect idea at first — all of your family and close friends together, nothing can go wrong… then Jungkook’s ex shows up and all of a sudden you’re in a years long relationship with him. You don’t mind though, really, how hard can sharing a cabin and pretending to be deeply in love with your best friend really be?
not in that way by @girlygguk
childhood bffs2l (a, f, s)
in which you're hopelessly in love with your best friend, min yoongi. meanwhile, your other best friend, jeon jungkook, is hopelessly in love with you.
star behind waves by @taegularities
estranged best friends to lovers, vacation/beach!au (a, f, s)
With a decade’s distance between Jungkook and you, your paths cross on the same island you deemed your second home years ago. And you realise once again – the ocean can never compare to the twinkle in his starry eyes.
seven storms by @wintaerbaer
forbidden love (a, f, s)
As a young woman of considerable wealth, it has always been your father's expectation that you would marry one of the local aristocrats once you came of age. Your family's stable hand? Certainly not an option
self-care sunday by @shina913
nailtech!Jungkook, meet cute (f)
You arrive at your mani-pedi appointment to find out that your usual technician is unexpectedly out. Instead, the salon owner’s son offers to do your nails instead.
#jungkook fic#jungkook fic recs#jungkook angst#jungkook fluff#jungkook smut#jungkook#bts jungkook#bts fics#jungkook series#jungkook oneshot#jungkook x reader#bts fic recs#alexia’s favs
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OC x CANON WEEK 2025! LET'S GO!!
PROMPTS
Day 1. Kiss in the rain/snow Day 2. Intertwined fingers Day 3. Kiss during a sunrise/sunset Day 4. Brushing hair out of the others’ face Day 5. Kiss beneath/amongst the stars Day 6. Hug from behind Day 7. Kiss within foliage/a cityscape Bonus Day: Wiping away tears
DIALOGUE
Day 1. “Promise me!” Day 2. “So, are we official then?” Day 3. “Oooh. You’re so in love with me!” Day 4.“I never imagined I could feel this way…” Day 5. “Take my hand.” Day 6. “Jealous much?” Day 7. “I’d burn the world for you.” Bonus Day; “It was always you!… Always has been. Always will be.”
FASHION
Day 1. Pastels / Monochromatic Day 2. Practical / Avant Garde Day 3. Nautical / Wild West Day 4. Plaid / Sequence Day 5. Steampunk / Cyberpunk Day 6. Floral / Animal Print Day 7. Leather / Lace Bonus Day: Jewels / Chains
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RULES 1. This is a safe for work (SFW) event. We will only be promoting work that is safe for public viewing.
2. Tag us @theocxcanonweek and/or use the hashtag #oc x canon week!
3. Mention which day and prompt(s) you've used, as well as the canonical character(s) involved!
4. You don't have to use all prompts for each day, but you can interpret the prompts however you choose!
5. Even though it's called "OC x Canon Week," self-inserts and personas are also allowed!
6. Anyone and everyone can participate!
7. You can complete this challenge at any date. There is no need to participate every day, and you can do as many or little prompts you want. However, we will only be promoting for this challenge the week of March 17th, 2025.
8. Last of all, have fun! <3
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FAQ
"Do I have to do a prompt from each of the categories listed?"
You can do as many or as little as you like! So, if you wanna do one of each of the categories go right ahead! If you only want to do one in total, that's fine too! No stress here! 💖
"Are polyamorous ships allowed?"
Yup! As long as an oc/insert/persona is included in the ship with canon character(s) then it is welcomed! 💖
"I see OC x Canon Week is on both Tumblr and Twitter. Do I have to participate on both platforms? Or can I just stick to one?"
You can choose whichever platform you prefer to particpate on. You do not have to particpate on both. (However you are welcome to if you so please!~) 💖
"I like this days prompt with another days prompt. Is it alright to mix and match them?"
Yes!! You absolutely are welcome to mixing and matching prompts! The event is about having fun, so pick and choose as you please~ 💖
"I want to create multiple works for one prompt! Is that okay?"
Absolutely!! If you have the ability and engery to do so, then more power to ya!! ✨ We will take as many pieces as you can churn out! (But there is no pressure of course~💖)
"Can I participate with a familial/platontic oc x canon ship?"
While the event does cater to romantic intent, non-romantic ships are welcome to participate as well! 💖
"I found out about the event late!! Can I still participate and submit my work after the event is over?"
Yes! While the event runs for a “week”, there really are no set rules as to when you can participate. It’s all about having fun and spreading awareness for OC x Canon enjoyers!!
The blog will not be as active after the event is over , but I’ll still check in every once in a while to like and reblog what I can. (: Remember to us the hashtag # oc x canon week and tag the account so your work is seen!
"Have you considered running OC x Canon Week on other platforms, like Bluesky, A03, etc?..."
I have but truthfully it's already a huge workload managing the event on both Tumblr and Twitter by myself. If I were to bring it to other platfroms, I would definitely need some assistance. At this point, it's TBD... 🆕Update!! 🆕 We now have a collection on AO3 thanks to @atwstedstory!! 💕 It'll be open for submissions the week of the event! Thank you atwstedstory!! 💖
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Thank you for reading and happy planning!! 💕💕💕
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Yandere royal guards plot twist: reader was isekaid into their world and has no idea wtf they’re saying, so thinks being nonchalant is safest when it’s actually making them insane lmao
You got isekai’d. Now three murder machines think your blank stares are divine wisdom.
♡ Yandere! Royal Guards who don’t realize their beloved Sovereign is just some random girl from another world with no clue what’s happening.
♡ Yandere! Royal Guard who prowls at your feet like a starving beast, ears twitching, tail lashing, his grin full of sharp promises. “Sovereign, I’ve torn out the tongues of the palace spies. Their screams were... exquisite.” His voice purrs, expectant, waiting.
You stare blankly. “Ah.”
His pupils dilate. His breath shudders. “...Your restraint is incredible.”
♡ Yandere! Royal Guard who kneels before you, his wings folding like a dying swan’s. “Sovereign, forgive my forwardness, but do you love us?” His angelic eyes shine with desperation, manic with devotion. “You need only say it, and we shall set fire to the world in your name.”
You blink slowly. He is sweating.
“…Sure.”
His breath hitches—his body trembles—his fingers dig into his chest as though holding his heart inside his ribs. “Such… modesty,” he breathes. “To hide your love beneath cold indifference—your restraint is divine.”
♡ Yandere! Royal Guard who glowers from the shadows, a hulking wall of destruction. “Fight me.” His voice grinds like crushed bone, deep and sharp. “Your fists. Now.”
You shake your head. “No thanks.”
His nostrils flare. His hands twitch. “...You are waiting,” he mutters. “You want me to earn it.” His eyes gleam with lethal reverence. “I will not disappoint you.”
You sip your drink. He goes outside. The walls tremble. The ground shakes. The screams of unfortunate trainees echo into the sky.
They don’t know that you, a confused isekai victim, have no idea what they’re saying. They think your apathy is an unfathomable test. Every blank stare fuels their madness.
And the worst part? You’re just trying to stay alive.
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♡ Note. This is NOT canon. Reader is canonically genetically equipped, capable in her position despite the chaos of the Yandere! Royal Guards, and her apathetic personality is really made to be that way. This is a what-if fanfic to the main story. Character banner art belongs to “inplick” and can be found in Instagram. But, it it also official art from a collaboration between Link Click x Sanrio.
♡ A/N. Anon, my request box is closed even for short requests (this isn't an ask, but a request). Also, please read the RULES before making requests. I only allowed this since I do plan on opening Anon requests; but, I haven't made the official announcement. My request box will officially open 2-5 months from now. But... since this can be used for drabbles anyway, fine. Don't expect me to spoil you guys though! I'm already swamped with a lot of long project requests alongside other works. Also, I don't like doing canon-divergent works of my OC's usually, but fine. Short, attempt at humor idea. Seriously. Please read the Rules, I don't like repeating myself.
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If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, just comment on the MASTERLIST of Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows. Thank you.
General TAG LIST of “Whispers In The Dark”: @keisocool , @elvabeth , @elloredef , @mjsjshhd , @lem-hhn , @yuki-istired
❤︎ Fang Dokja's Books.
♡ Book 1. A Heart Devoured (AHD): A Dark Yandere Anthology ♡ Book 2. Forbidden Fruits (FF): Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires. ♡ Book 3. World Ablaze (WA) : For You, I'd Burn the World. ♡ Book 4 [you are here]. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows.
#yandere knight#knight x reader#yandere x reader#yandere imagines#yandere x you#yanderecore#yandere headcanons#yancore#yandere male#male yandere#yandere oneshots#male yandere x reader#yandere boy#yandere scenarios#yandere drabble#yandere male x reader#yandere x darling#yandere#obsessive yandere#possessive yandere#tw yandere#yandere blog#yandere romance#yandere oc#yandere boyfriend#yandere oc x reader#reader insert#fem reader#yan blog#x reader
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Navigation: Helpful Posts - specific disabilities
[large text: Navigation: Helpful Posts - specific disabilities]
This is the long-awaited sequel to the first post that unfortunately hit the link limit. This part will focus on posts for specific disabilities, while the general topics will stay in the original post. If you can't find any posts on the disability you're looking for, please check out the "Other" section in the first post.
This list will of course continue to be updated.
Last update: 12/01/2025
Amputation/Limb Difference
[large text: Amputation/Limb Difference]
- Constructing Characters with Limb Differences: Discussing Fetishization - Do Amputees Always Wear Prosthetics? - Does a Character with Amputation Need a Prosthetic? - Does a Character with Upper Limb Amputation Need a Prosthetic? - Designing a Prosthetic Arm - Making a Character with Upper Limb Amputation - Genius Amputee Mechanic: Discussing the DIY Prosthetic Trope - Causes of Amputation - Limb Differences as a Spectrum - The "Perfect Prosthetic" - Can you walk on Stumps? (Sometimes)
Blind Characters
[large text: Blind Characters]
- Making a Blind Character: what to add, what to avoid - Designing a Blind Character: Discussing the Eye Covering Trope - What to Give Your Blind Character - Blindness Tropes: Daredevil, milky eyes, and blindness-negating magic - The Blind Prophet Trope - Guide Animals: Dogs, Horses, and Their Fictional Equivalents - Blind Characters with Superpowers - Echolocation and Sound Powers - Yeah Another One about Superpowers - Portraying Photophobia in Pre-modern Times (not blindness specific) - Options for Managing Photophobia + Explanation of it being a Spectrum (also not blindness specific) - Characters with Albinism - Fetishization of Albinism - Going Blind from an Accident - Writing Characters with One Eye - More on Monocular Vision - Writing a Blind Kitty (+possible accommodations) - Different types of White Canes
Deaf and Hard of Hearing (HoH) Characters
[large text: Deaf and Hard of Hearing (HoH) Characters]
- Creating Deaf/HoH Characters - Writing D/deaf/HoH Characters - Another Guide on Writing D/deaf Characters - Tips on Writing Deaf Characters - Visual Indicators of a Person being Deaf - Tips on Writing about Hearing Aids - Deaf Character Unable to Sign - Sign Language with Limb Difference - Writing Out Sign Language (+book recommendations) - Cultural Deafness Primer
DeafBlind Characters
[large text: DeafBlind Characters]
- How DeafBlind People Learn Language - DeafBlind Character not Wanting to be Blind - On Access and Protactile [not writing advice, just a piece of great writing; greatly recommended if you know nothing about DeafBlindness]
Facial Difference (FD)
[large text: Facial Difference (FD)]
- Introduction to Facial Difference: basics, tropes, what I want to see - Constructing a Character with an FD: Discussing Disfiguremisia and the "Mask Trope" - Does My Character Need a Prosthetic Eye?: alternatives - What Would Happen to A Character with a Scar Through the Eye? - What Would Happen to a Character with a Burn on the Eye? - How Scars Affect the Character, and How the Character Affects the Scar (in the technical sense) - Should your Character with Scars Hate their Scars? - Including Characters with Treacher Collins Syndrome in a pre-Surgical Setting - Basic Information on Vitiligo - Harmful Vitiligo Tropes/Stereotypes - Animalistic Characters with Vitiligo - Animalistic Characters with Facial Differences in general - Stigmatization of Strabismus in Visual Media - How to be Normal about the Real Life Equivalents of your OC with a Scar Over His Eye - Tips for portraying a Character with Strabismus - When is Putting your Facially Different Character in a Mask OK?
Intellectual Disability
[large text: Intellectual Disability]
- Introduction to Writing Intellectually Disabled Characters: basics, tropes, how it actually works - Down Syndrome and Historical Fiction - Combat and Disability: intellectually disabled characters - Basic Tips for Writing Characters with Down Syndrome - Intellectually Disabled Characters in Horror - Writing Guide for Profoundly Intellectually Disabled Characters
#mod sasza#navigation#writing disability#writeblr#writing help#writing advice#how to write#writing tips#long post
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DREAM OF YOU | JJK (Prologue)
summary bunnies had always been your favorite; their soft and gentle nature a comfort in a world that could be anything but. this one, however, is not very soft. and he certainly isn’t gentle.
pairing bunny hybrid!jk x human vet!(f)reader
word count 3k
chapter rating sfw
genre hybridverse, s2l, angsty (future fluff & smut)
content jk 24 | yn 25, grumpy bunny hybrid jk, spirited human veterinarian oc, jk doesn't trust humans, his love interest is a human..., brief mentions of fighting, blood & body wounds, cursing, hybrid bangtan, park jimin is an angel cat
updated a/n this was supposed to just be a draft dump, but upon unexpected love for the fic from a few of u absolute sweetheartss, i shall be turning this into a series! haven’t decided onna release date for pt 2 atm, but it’s next on my list for updates!! love you and thank youu x <3

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now playing: camila cabello—dream of you

09 MAY 2022 | 10:31 PM Seo-Dong Animal & Hybrid 24/7 Veterinary Clinic.
You’d gotten used to these quiet hours, where time seemed to stretch and your thoughts kept you company more than the occasional late-night emergency. Stocking supplies and counting inventory had become a routine—one of the many tasks that kept your mind and hands busy in the lull between patients.
That is until the silence was shattered by the sound of the clinic door slamming open, the loud thud of it hitting the wall echoing through the empty space. Startled, you stood up from your crouched position, your eyes immediately darting to the entrance.
The sight that greeted you was a sharp contrast to the quiet evening you’d been having. A blonde boy, his eyes sharp and his features very feline, was half-dragging, half-supporting a taller male into the clinic. Your heart skipped a beat as you took in the scene—especially the sight of the second male, whose long, fluffy ears drooped low in a clear sign of distress.
Your hand automatically reached out to close the cabinet you had been rummaging through, and without another thought, you were moving toward the pair, mind racing to assess the situation as you walked. The bunny hybrid—as you determined based on his undeniable features��was clearly in pain. His eyes were shut tight, his jaw clenched, muscles taut with tension. Bunnies had always been your favorite; their soft and gentle nature a comfort in a world that could be anything but. Seeing one in such a state of discomfort made your chest tighten.
“Hi there, I’m Y/N. What’s wrong? How can I help?” you asked, your voice gentle despite the urgency you felt.
The cat hybrid—also self-determined by you—was quick to respond, his voice laced with worry as he glanced at his friend. “Hello, Y/N! I’m Jimin, and this is my friend Jungkook. He’s injured, and if you could please—”
You were already nodding, taking another step closer to Jungkook to try and assess his wound. But before you could get too close, Jungkook’s eyes snapped open, and he took a sharp, defensive step backward, pulling Jimin with him. His dark eyes narrowed as they met yours.
“No,” he grunted, his voice rough with pain and something else—distrust. His nose wrinkled in distaste at the all too familiar scent. Human. You could almost see the thoughts running through his mind. “She’s not a hybrid. Let’s go, Jimin-ah.”
The words hit you slightly harder than you expected, and your extended hand abruptly dropped to your side. It wasn’t the first time you’d faced prejudice in your line of work, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last. Humans didn’t have the best reputation among hybrids, and for good reason. The history between your species was filled with pain, fear, and oppression. Even now, with the world having come a long way in terms of hybrid rights, there were still deep scars left by past injustices.
You understood his reaction, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t sting. You were just trying to help.
As much as you wanted to let him walk out and take his assumptions with him, you couldn’t ignore the clear signs of pain and discomfort in the way he held himself.
“Okay,” you said, forcing your voice to remain even. “Did you need directions to the nearest open hybrid clinic? It’s about an hour's drive eastbound. Or, my koala hybrid colleague will be starting the overnight shift at 12. You can come back then?”
The words were polite, but there was a frustrated edge to them, one you couldn’t control. You weren’t some inexperienced intern, and you certainly weren’t going to let this bunny hybrid dismiss you so easily.
Jungkook caught the undertone, and his expression darkened further. He gave you a tight nod, clearly not appreciating your condescending offer, and turned to leave, unhooking his arm from Jimin’s supportive grip.
“Jungkookie, please!” Jimin pleaded, his voice rising in desperation. He grabbed the back of Jungkook’s torn t-shirt, pulling him back with more force than you expected from someone with such a lithe frame. Jungkook grunted in pain, the sound low and rough, as the movement aggravated whatever injury he was carrying.
“I’m sorry, Kookie, but you will die if we wait!” Jimin’s words were dramatic, but the concern in his eyes was very real. “Just please, please let her tend to you. I’m sure she’s more than qualified! Why else would she be working here, right?” The cat turned to you, his eyes wide and pleading. “Right?”
You allowed a small, wry smile to tug at the corner of your lips. “Sure,” you said, a teasing lilt in your voice. “Though, I’m not actually a qualified veterinarian - I just sanitize the equipment and clean out the overnight chambers. But our night vet called in sick, so… I guess I could try?”
Jimin’s eyes widened to the size of saucers, his head shaking nervously as he took a step back. “Oh… I-uh, never mind! Uh—I think we’ll actually go to—”
“Aish, Jimin-ah. She’s joking,” Jungkook muttered, his voice laced with irritation at his gullible best friend.
The bunny’s dark eyes flicked to the name badge on your white lab coat that covered your forest green scrubs. Small doodles in thin black marker decorated the corners of the badge—hearts, flowers, and funnily enough, a tiny little bunny rabbit. Below your name, in bold letters, was your title: Senior Animal and Hybrid Veterinary Specialist.
“Oh!” Jimin gasped, relief washing over his features as some of the color drained from his cheeks. “Well, that’s great then! May you please help my friend? He’s a bunny hybrid, 24 years old, and he has a really big bite wound on his lower abdomen! It’s not bleeding badly, but it’s HUGE. It was from this big, ugly Pitbull hybrid! He’s terrifying and from the South side—well, we are too—but he deals drugs and all sorts of illegal things, so who knows what was in his mouth before he bit Jungkook?! But don’t worry, Y/N-ssi, Jungkookie doesn’t back down! You should’ve seen what that no-good mutt came out looking like—”
“Jimin-ah,” Jungkook sighed, his eyebrows furrowing in annoyance at his best friend’s tendency to ramble and over share.
“Right, sorry, Jungkookie…” Jimin said quickly, his ears flattening slightly in embarrassment before he turned back to you. “Anyways, it happened about ten minu—”
You nodded along as Jimin continued his detailed description while you walked to the counter with the hybrids following suit, one much more begrudgingly than the other.
Your pen flew over the clipboard as you jotted down everything you needed to know. All the while, you could feel Jungkook’s gaze burning into the side of your face.
It wasn’t the kind of look you were used to from other hybrids—the possessive, predatory stares that made your skin crawl. This was different. His eyes were sharp, assessing, like he was trying to figure out if he could trust you.
Two minutes passed as you filled out the necessary sections on the new patient slip, the cat being the one to provide all the details, everything right down to the weight of the bunny. They’re obviously very close, possibly lovers, and you thought it was adorable. A classic grumpy x sunshine trope right in front of your eyes.
You were almost finished when, out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Jungkook’s knuckles turning white as he gripped the edge of the counter, his balance faltering. His stance had shifted from defensive to exhausted, his body finally starting to give in to the pain and the adrenaline that had been keeping him upright.
“Catch him, Jimin,” you ordered, your voice firm and directed at the cat hybrid, but your eyes were on the bunny.
“Oh, shit!” Jimin cursed, his eyes widening in panic as he darted forward to catch his friend. Jungkook’s knees buckled, his eyes rolling back as his body went limp. He was almost twice the size of Jimin, and the smaller hybrid struggled under the sudden weight.
You were around the counter in seconds, slipping under Jungkook’s other arm to help hold him up. “Help me bring him into the medical suite, please,” you asked, but your tone left little room for argument. Together, you and Jimin managed to half-carry, half-drag the unconscious bunny hybrid into the next room.
˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗
“Y/N-ssi,” Jimin’s voice was curious as he twirled in your spinny chair, watching as you worked on his best friend who lay unconscious on the cushioned med table.
“Hmm?” you responded quietly, focused on pulling another thread through Jungkook’s stitch.
It had been almost forty minutes since you guys had heaved the bunny onto the table, allowing you to finally get a good look at the wound. Jimin had been right — it wasn’t profusely bleeding. However, the edges of the bite were now a dark purplish color, and it took quite a few minutes and resources to rid him of whatever remnants of toxic substance the attacker had laced on his teeth.
The cat hybrid was more than eager to help, and while you insisted it was okay, he all but got on his knees and bowed before you, begging to assist. You ended up giving in, knowing that helping might calm his overwhelming nerves for his companion. You made him glove and gown up before letting him hold the bucket while you flushed out Jungkook’s wound.
It took approximately ten seconds and a bit of discolored pus draining into the container before Jimin dry heaved and looked like he was about to faint. Not wanting to double your current patient count, you bit back a laugh and made the cat put the bucket on the ground and sit down while you finished.
“Are you really a senior veterinarian?”
“I am,” you confirmed, snipping the end of your final stitch with scissors before reaching for the sanitized gauze. “Have I done something to make you question my position?”
“No!” Jimin exclaimed, pulling to an abrupt halt in his spinning on your chair. “You’re fantastic! Really! I don’t exactly know the standards for hybrid medical aid…” You smiled as the cat trailed off, wiping over Jungkook’s now neatly sealed wound. “But I bet you exceed them!”
“You’re very kind, Jimin-ssi.” You gave him a quick glance over your shoulder, and he returned your smile. “Then why do you ask?”
“Well, it’s just…” Jimin trailed off again, a habit of his that you found slightly comical considering his tendency to ramble and over-explain things. Shifting on your stool next to the sleeping bunny hybrid, you gave him your full attention. When the cat looked up and saw your head tilted in curiosity, he continued. “You just look very, uh, young? I’m sorry if that’s offensive. I know you’re not supposed to ask a woman her age—”
“That’s okay, Jimin-ssi. I don’t mind. I’m twenty-five.”
Your response seemed to put him at ease. “Wow, that’s still young to be a senior vet, no?”
“Mm,” you nodded in agreement as you began tidying up the area. “After completing my bachelor’s degree, I started here as a Veterinary Assistant. I was promoted to technician shortly after that, and specialist even quicker... Guess they saw some potential in me, or maybe we were just severely understaffed,” you joked, disposing of the used supplies and taking everything that needed to be cleaned to the sanitization station.
He gave you a Cheshire grin. “Ah, so modest, Y/N-ssi… From what I’ve seen, you deserve all of that and more! And I would know best. I’m older than you, after all.”
You gave the cat an amused hum, dumping the utensils into the sink for washup later. “‘95?”
“Wha—” You didn’t have to look at him to sense the way he perked up in his seat. “How did you know?!”
“The tattoo on your finger,” you replied with a light chuckle as you walked to the storage cupboard.
Jimin’s gaze dropped to the small ‘95’ tattoo encased in a heart on the side of his right ring finger. “Oh,” he mumbled sheepishly. The fact that you had managed to notice such a slight detail about him, though, made the cat inside him purr.
“What size shirt is Jungkook?”
Jimin looked up from his hand to see you now digging around in a large container of what looked to be folded clothing. His brows pinched curiously. “Medium.”
You nodded, your hand already hovering over a black tee in medium, having guessed correctly. When you pulled the shirt from the pile, your foot nudged the container back into the cupboard before you made your way over to Jimin. He gave you a confused look as you walked right past his best friend, who lay shirtless on the table, and held the shirt out to him.
“Um—”
“It may make him a bit more comfortable to be wearing something with a familiar scent when he wakes up.” You explained, wiggling the fabric in your hand, urging him to take it. Jimin let out a noise of realization and took it from you with a nod.
“The anesthesia should be wearing off shortly. His stats are good, so it won’t be long now,” you said with a reassuring smile as you took the t-shirt back from Jimin after he had thoroughly scented the fabric.
Jimin watched silently, a small smile on his face, as you carefully pulled the shirt onto the unconscious hybrid. A frown crossed your features when you noticed his skin was cold to the touch. Concerned, you checked his heart rate on the monitor next to the bed and were relieved to find the stats still within a healthy range. After recording the data, you headed to the medical supply cupboard and gathered everything you needed in a large ziplock bag. You handed it to Jimin, along with a manual on aftercare for stitched wounds.
“I’m just going to finish up the last of the paperwork for the night before my colleague arrives to take over,” you told him. Jimin nodded with a smile, and you returned it, making sure to lower the air conditioning as you left the room.
About 20 minutes later, Jungkook woke up and walked out of the medical bay with Jimin. He was moving better now, but you could tell he was still groggy. The sound of their approaching footsteps caught your attention, and you looked up from your desk.
Jimin’s face was split into a wide grin. “What do we owe you for your magic, Y/N-ssi?”
You smiled as you handed him the invoice, then turned to Jungkook. “Do you have Hybrid Healthcare?” you asked gently.
Jungkook didn’t respond verbally, just shook his head and reached for his wallet in his back pocket, shuffling through some cash.
“Oh, you don’t have to pay all at once. If you’re good for it, we offer payment plans—”
“Are you assuming I can’t pay it all at once?” Jungkook interjected with a glare.
His sharp tone caught you off guard, and your expression shifted from soft to slightly offended. You suppressed the urge to snap back, keeping your voice steady. “No, I offer that to every patient who doesn’t have healthcare—”
Jimin looked up from the file in his hand, his confusion cutting off your explanation. “Y/N-ssi, is this the completed bill?”
You frowned. “Yes, is there something wrong?”
“Well, I saw you use two syringes, not one. And you were stitching for over 30 minutes, not fifteen like recorded. I don’t understand…”
Your heart sank. If Jungkook hadn’t thought you were pitying him before, he definitely did now.
Jungkook snatched the paper from Jimin, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the document.
“Well, I just—” you began, but Jungkook cut you off.
“You didn’t even charge me for the anesthesia,” he scoffed, practically slamming the paper on the counter before reaching for a wad of cash. “I’m not a fucking charity case, but thanks, though.” He pulled out double the amount listed on the bill and slapped it on top of the paperwork.
You were quiet as he did so, your face expressionless as you looked down at the money. Jimin gave you a guilty look, but Jungkook’s gaze remained fixed on you. “Is that enough? How much was it originally?”
You blinked at him, then nodded wordlessly, taking the bills and turning to the register. Your fingers tapped at the screen before the till popped open and you shoved the cash into the register, closing it a little harder than necessary. When the receipt printed, you ripped it off and handed it to Jungkook without a word.
Jungkook took the receipt in silence, his jaw clenched as he watched you.
“Y/N-ssi—” Jimin started, guilt evident in his tone.
“I gave Jimin your aftercare bag,” you said, your voice robotic as you addressed Jungkook. “Sanitize the injured area twice a day—once in the morning, once at night. Avoid swimming in pools with chlorine and stay away from salt water too. Stitches need to be removed in two weeks; you can book an appointment with my colleague, Namjoonie. He’ll be here in five minutes.”
With that, you nodded politely at the two men before turning on your heel and heading toward the staff office. The door closed behind you with a sharp click, leaving the hybrids in a heavy silence.
Jimin let out a sigh. “Aish, Jungkookie—”
“Shut up.”

#📁DOY.docx#jungkook#jeon jungkook#jeon jeongguk#jungkook angst#jungkook fluff#jungkook smut#hybrid jungkook#jungkook imagine#jungkook bts#bts jungkook#jungkook fic#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#hybrid jungkook smut#hybrid jungkook fluff#hybrid jungkook angst#park jimin#hybrid bts#bunny hybrid jungkook
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Stay A While
Summary: Terry's back home and trying to make amends with an old friend.
Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC
Word Count: 3,944
Part: 1 of ??
Warnings and Notes: None. This one's a safe for work slow burn. Enjoy.
Drunk minds speak sober thoughts. Or at least Terry hoped that was the case as his thumb hovered over a familiar name in his contact list. A dingey hole in the wall became a haven on the tail end of his journey back to some sense of normalcy. He was down a bike, a truck, and a piece of his heart but continued to press on until fatigue forced him to stop for rest. The owner, a small woman with a big voice noticed his rough appearance as he passed by on foot and invited him inside to duck an incoming storm. She wouldn’t take no for an answer, even when he repeated that he had ground to make up before nightfall.
When she asked if he needed help he politely and foolishly declined all but a glass of brown liquor and access to an outlet. That same whiskey and a sprinkle of Motown-era love songs playing on a rickety jukebox had broken a grown man down enough to reach out to the one person who might still be willing to take him in. Even if only for a night.
Searching for extra courage, Terry took another sip of lukewarm Jack Daniels before tapping his phone screen. The line rang once, twice, and then a third time before a short pause signaled the call had connected.
The silence on the other him was loud, forcing him to speak up first.
“Hello?”
Fading voices and shuffling in the background were the only indicators of a presence on the other line, making Terry feel embarrassed for starting a call in the first place.
He cleared his throat before speaking again. “Hey, look… if now’s not a good time I ca -”
“Terrence? Did you mean to call me?”
“I, uh…yeah. I did. I’m sorry. I should’ve -”
“Are you okay? It’s loud wherever you are. You good? You hurt?”
“I could tell you if you would give me a chance to answer,” he chuckled. His amusement made her kiss her teeth in annoyance. “I’m okay. I’m a little banged up, but I’ve seen worse. I’m somewhere between Charlotte and home. Stopped in this spot for a drink and somewhere to sleep for the night.”
“And what does that have to do with me?”
Terry took another swig of whiskey and sighed. “Nothing, really. I was hoping I could see you, though. You know, when I make it back tomorrow.”
“You staying anywhere when you get here?”
“Not yet, but I’ll find somewhere. I know how to survive.”
“TJ…,” More silence. Thick. Long. Full of tension and years of baggage that they had yet to discuss. The other voice sighed before answering. “Come on by. I’ll have the back room ready for you. You need toiletries?”
Terry’s face softened into a near smile at the invitation. “Yes ma’am. A meal would be nice, too.”
“Okay. I’ll have you something if you can get here before dark tomorrow. Please be safe, Terrence. I mean it.”
Before he could attempt to extend the conversation, the call ended, leaving her contact photo in full view. Terry allowed a slow grin to spread across his face just as a short text with her address came across the screen.
“Another round, brother?”
Terry looked up from his phone to find an expectant expression on the bartender’s face. He shook his head and reached for the wallet in his back pocket. “Nah, but thanks, man. Think I’m gonna close my tab, actually. I gotta see about a bus ticket before it’s too late.”
“If you heading to her,” the man started, pointing toward Terry’s phone. “you need a cut, man. A lineup. Something. You look like what you been through. If you got $20, I can get you right.” A slight frown and knitted eyebrows in response made the bartender shoot his hands up in surrender. “I don’t want no problems, big dog. I just know what it’s like to see your lady after a hard time. Let me help you.”
A quick look into the black mirror of his cell phone screen forced Terry to reckon with his appearance. He couldn’t remember his last haircut and his mustache was starting to dwarf his upper lip. He sighed and reached into his back pocket.
“Extra $10 and you can get the face too?”
“Extra $20 and I’ll get you where you going myself.”
------
City noise had long been replaced by suburban quiet by the time Terry’s destination came into view. His friend back at the bar was true to his word and arranged transport that turned a 6-hour journey into 2 hours of UGK on the speakers, a little privacy, and AC on the hottest summer day so far.
After exchanging pleasantries and cash, Terry stepped out of the cramped Honda onto the smooth driveway pavement. Every house, street sign, and front yard looked exactly as he remembered them, bringing mixed emotions forward.
The short journey to her front step felt arduous for his tired legs, but he persisted until he was mere inches from the front door. He lifted his arms and prepared to knock but stopped short when it swung open unexpectedly.
“Knocking when I can hear those heavy feet from a mile away is courteous but unnecessary.”
He chuckled and rubbed a hand down the back of his head. “Good to see you too, Treece.”
Patrice greeted him with a half smile as she studied his appearance from toe to head. A few years and a little extra weight had done wonders. She settled on his eyes and softened her gaze. “You look good, TJ. Come in here and cool off.”
Stepping inside her home felt like walking into a time capsule. He’d spent so many after-school days and summer nights here that it felt like his childhood home not too far up the road. Photos from yesteryear lined the walls on the way to the living room where nothing had changed except new furniture and a bigger television on the TV stand. The heat from the oven mixing with a slight chill from the air conditioning unit kept the room comfortable enough to nap if he could settle for more than a few minutes.
Terry’s eyes drifted from his surroundings to Patrice as she led the way. Long braids covered the back of a high school t-shirt and jean shorts. Her brown skin had become golden under the North Carolina sun, making her glow a little in the morning light. Grown woman weight had settled onto her once thin frame, transforming her into a more of a mini version of her mother than before. All the changes he’d imagined when he had a free second were ions better in person.
Patrice gestured toward the leather recliner in the corner without speaking, inviting him to take a seat and settle in on her way to the stove.
They existed without words for a few minutes while she took fresh biscuits out of the oven and arranged them next to sausage patties and an omelet on one of her good porcelain plates. Terry trained his attention on his shoes, trying and failing to find a way to break the ice. He wanted to apologize. Confess his wrongs and desires in one grand speech designed to erase nearly ten years of absence. But the words wouldn’t form in his throat and the moment came and went.
Balancing a dinner tray in one hand and orange juice in the other, Patrice carefully made her way to his spot in the living room. Seeing her kind eyes calmed his nerves and set his chest ablaze.
“No more pork for you, right? This is chicken sausage from my Nana and them in the country.” She asked as she sat the tray on his lap.
He nodded in appreciation. “Yeah. You remembered?”
“You ain’t been gone that long, TJ. I still know who you are and what you like. That orange juice don’t have pulp in it either.”
“Thank you,” he said sheepishly before hanging his head to pray.
“Any time.”
A re-run of A Different World became the only sound in the room outside of an occasional content sigh from Terry as he tore through his breakfast. Patrice watched in amusement until her broad smile caught his attention. He slowed in embarrassment and returned the stare long enough to induce loud laughter from both of them.
“I look crazy, huh?”
“No,” she assured with a sweet smile. “You just look like you're happy to be back home, is all. Fayetteville missed you.”
“All of Fayetteville or someone specific?”
“Don’t start, TJ.”
“I’m only asking a question.” He answered without making eye contact. “You know you’re the only one who still calls me that?”
“What? TJ? That’s your name.”
“Yeah, but…you know. It’s not 2010 anymore.”
Patrice shrugged and settled deeper into the couch. “Considering that’s about the last time I saw you in the flesh, I guess it stuck for me. But, I can call you Terrence if you like.”
“Nah, TJ’s good. I like it. From you…specifically.”
The pair exchanged equally bashful looks, both too shy to say anything that would incriminate themselves. Instead, they watched the television in silence and stole looks until a commercial break took away their distraction.
Without speaking, Terry began to gather dishes and stand, prompting Patrice to rush over before he could move too far.
“Treece, I can do it.”
“I know,” she answered in a sing-song voice while sliding the tray from his grasp. “But I haven’t done this for you in a while. Let me love on you a little bit.”
His eyes tracked her every move until she was behind him at the kitchen sink. Boyish nervousness made him twiddle his thumbs until words came rushing out like water from a burst pipe as he sat back down.
“So, how you doing? How you been?”
“I’ve been okay. Mostly work and no play, you know. Thankful to be out of that classroom for a few weeks and get some peace.”
“Yeah? Kids driving you crazy?”
“Baby, the kids, their parents, and my parents are driving me to drink,” she laughed. “I can’t catch a break.”
“What about your man? He driving you crazy?”
Patrice scoffed and shook her head. Her mama and his mama talked too much. Terry chewed his bottom lip, hoping he didn’t offend.
“We…aren’t together anymore. Hard to build a family together when he’s off building one across town.”
Terry craned his neck around the armchair to make sympathetic eye contact. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know that part. I wouldn’t have said anything.”
“It’s alright. I gave it to God a long time ago. Maybe I’m not meant to be anybody’s wife yet.”
“Maybe you weren’t meant to be his wife.”
“Well, it’s not like any suitors are knocking down my door for my hand in marriage.”
“Probably because you keep swinging it open before anybody gets a chance.”
Patrice rolled her eyes and flashed her middle finger in Terry’s direction. “Ha-ha. I see you didn’t lose your jokes at Lejeune. Only your ability to keep in touch.”
Her retort left a shallow cut in Terry’s ego, making him turn his attention back to the television. He knew he’d broken a decades-old promise and that atoning for his sins would take time. But he also knew that, at any moment, Patrice could send him back into the world with nothing more than a full belly and a swift kick in the ass. He had to tread lightly.
Taking the lull in conversation as his opportunity to lick his wounds in private, Terry stood and gathered his belongings in both hands. Patrice watched him from her spot with an apologetic expression.
“You don’t have to leave. Got a couple errands to run so it’ll be quiet in here. Take the whole couch if you want.”
“That’s alright, but thank you. Figure I can make myself useful and cut the yard. Maybe unpack some of this stuff if that’s alright with you. You got a mower?”
“Yeah, it’s back there,” she answered, gesturing toward the backyard with her head. “Will you be here when I get back?”
Sensing the hidden motivation behind her question, Terry dropped his bag to the ground and made his way into the kitchen. Cautiously, he leaned down to press a short kiss to Patrice’s forehead before using his index finger to tilt her head upward and meet his eyeline. “Yes. I promise. You don’t need to worry about me.”
Her eyes fluttered closed for a half second while she nodded her understanding. A wave of relief made the hair on her arms stand at attention but she quickly bit back any urge to engage further.
“You looked tired when you got in,” Patrice started, turning her back to Terry to conceal her flustered face. “I cleared Junior’s old bed back there. It’s a little small but sturdy. The sheets are fresh. Let me know if you need more blankets. I like it cold at night.”
“I’ll survive, girl. I’ve slept in worse places than a full-sized bed. Thank you.”
A split second of hesitation kept their eyes glued to one another until Terry ended the stalemate by backing out of the room and disappearing down the hallway.
Patrice took his absence as an opportunity to compose herself. Busy hands and racing thoughts fueled a cleaning marathon until tasks that had long fallen to the bottom of her to-do list were crossed off.
For hours they co-existed without many words exchanged. Occasionally, Patrice would steal glances at Terry while he meticulously tended to the lawn and bushes. When he could, Terry made a point to brush up against her when he walked past and agree with each of her many suggestions. Being in her space was enough for him and he dared not upset the natural harmony.
By the time dinner rolled around, they had found a groove. A quiet dinner led to an even quieter cleanup shift and quick good nights exchanged after watching Jeopardy together.
Terry left Patrice to her own devices while he fought to acclimate to such cushy surroundings. Try as he might, he couldn’t get used to the soft mattress below him or the near-frigid temperature in the house. Tossing and turning left him unsatisfied. The walls felt like they were converging. Flashbacks were turning into night sweats. He needed to escape.
Slowly, he slid out of bed and into a pair of slippers Patrice had gifted him earlier in the day. Measured steps help him sneak past her bed bedroom, out of the back door, and down into the backyard without causing a disturbance.
The early June air was balmy, clinging to the skin beneath his t-shirt. In the distance loud bass from someone’s car speaker vibrated until it was out of earshot. Dogs barked and howled to salute the moon worked in tandem with the faint smell of charcoal cooling from a night of backyard barbecues to remind him that he was far from the trouble of Shelby Springs.
It’d been a while since he could enjoy the night without being on high alert. The last week was a special kind of hell that he feared he could never shake. The urge to flee was beginning to creep in like the tide, threatening to wash away what little progress he’d made.
After a few deep breaths and mumbled prayer, Terry retreated to a porch swing to rest his weary legs. His shoulders relaxed as soon as his backside met the aged oak and, almost instantly, he felt safe enough to close his eyes. One deep breath turned into another until he was drifting into his first peaceful sleep in weeks.
Minutes passed like seconds. Thoughts slowed to a halt. His heartbeat regulated. Near bliss was upon him.
Inside, a single lamp flipped on to illuminate Patrice’s path as she searched the house for her guest. His room and bathroom had turned up empty results with almost no sign that he’d been there throughout the day. He wasn’t on the couch or in the kitchen raiding the fridge like she half expected. Worry had all but made her pass out until she heard the slight creak of her swing on the porch, making his head appear and disappear from the window above the sink.
She couldn’t fully open the door before Terry opened one eye and looked in her direction. She froze and he smiled.
“Feet not as heavy as you thought, huh?”
“Yeah, yeah. If I’d known you trade in a bed for this old thing I wouldn’t have wasted my time on laundry.”
“Hey, I built this old thing, remember?”
Patrice chuckled at the memory and pointed at the metal chain keeping the swing in place. “Damn near lost a finger behind it, too.”
“Would’ve been worth it knowing you were happy.” Patrice nervously shifted her weight from left to right under Terry’s intense gaze while he took his turn to look her over. Finally noticing her awkwardly standing between the screendoor, he motioned to the spot beside him. “Sit with me for a second.”
Patrice visibly wrestled with her decision but ultimately joined him. They maintained a careful distance, being sure to keep their individual limbs from connecting for fear that the mere sensation would set them ablaze. They played a childish game of cat and mouse until Patrice spoke.
“I was rude earlier,” Patrice confessed while fiddling with the hem of her t-shirt. Terry closed his heavy eyes to cure the burning sensation growing by the minute but acknowledged her statement with a confused grunt. She continued. “I never asked how you were doing. The whole thing about my ex sort of brought up old feelings.”
He frowned, hurt by her revelation. “You know I wasn’t trying to hurt you, right?”
“You never are. Same ol’ honorable TJ. Terry, I mean.”
“TJ for you.”
Again he popped one eye open and paired it with a grin that disamered Patrice and made her giggle like her high school self. The sound had him resolve that he’d spend his whole life making stupid faces if it meant she’d get some joy from them.
“You ready to tell me everything I missed or are you content with popping up on my porch? And how long do you plan to be here eating all my food, anyway?”
“I don’t think you wanna hear that,” he answered in an attempt to dodge the loaded question. Patrice persisted.
“No, I do. I see the tattoos and the fresh haircut. TJ turned into a man while he was gone. At least let me get to know this new person.”
“I grew up,” he sighed after some time. “Gained some. Lost a lot. Still trying to pick up the pieces.”
“What’d you lose?”
“Lately? Money. Family. Shit, my mind.”
“Why?”
“Mike died.” An abrupt interruption of an already complicated conversation brought forth a long pause. He waited for an interjection but found none, prompting him to offer more details. “He was killed. In jail. I tried to get him out and bring him home but I was too late.” Terry answered without making eye contact. Shame wouldn’t allow him to meet her potential judgment.
Patrice mentally cycled through names and faces until she realized the gravity of Terry’s statement. She reached out to breach their unspoken barrier and grabbed his hand which he accepted with no pushback.
“You wanna talk about it?”
“Not really,” he answered before squeezing her hand and finally returning her eye contact. “I handled everything. It’s over for now. I’m here with you. We can focus on that.”
“Even though you keep skipping how long you’ll stay.”
Patrice’s warmth was starting to take a backseat to her cold nature. Old wounds had started to re-open and rebuild a wall they both thought they’d successfully hurdled. Despite her attempt to pull her hand out of his grasp, Terry stayed put. He eyed her for a moment, picking up on a thin veil of tears threatening to form at her water line.
She watched his normally steely blue-gray eyes soften into something that mirrored the softness he carried when they were kids. She couldn’t find the gumption to look away as he brought her knuckles up to his lips for a set of short kisses before looking back up at her. Pleading. Begging for any indication that she had softened her heart toward him.
“Treecey, I’m sorry. I don’t know how else to say it. You meant more to me than the way I left and I pray every day for a chance to make it right. We crossed a line that night and I wasn’t sure what to do. I didn’t handle that like a man should have. I’m sorry until I’m blue in the face.”
Sincerity was thick in his voice despite his low, even tone.
Patrice listened without a word. A single tear cascaded down her face despite her valiant attempts to keep her emotions at bay. She swore she’d never cry about Terrence Richmond again. But old habits die hard.
Terry used his free hand to swipe away that tear and the next one sitting at her lower lash line with the pad of his thumb.
“Say something,” he pleaded. “Anything. Tell me you hate me.”
“You know I don’t hate you,” she whispered, too choked up to continue without a deep breath. “I…I just feel like you took a piece of me with you, you know? And you never wrote back. You never called. You shut me out like we were never friends. We could’ve gone back to how things were.”
“I fucked that up.”
“I’m aware. But that doesn’t mean that I trust you won’t do it again. No matter how much I don’t hate you, I’m not eighteen anymore. My patience is thin. I can’t allow you to turn my world upside down again.”
“Hand to God I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Yeah. I hope so.” Though she whispered, Patrice’s words sliced through Terry like a hot knife through butter.
He hung his head in defeat as she pulled her hand from his grasp and made quick work of standing from the bench. Her footsteps retreated past him and to the back door until she paused.
He looked over his shoulder to find her eyes closed and chin pointed to the sky in contemplative silence. This was it. The final blow.
She took a deep breath and stared straight ahead. “Stay as long as you want. Junior’s living with his girlfriend now, so nobody’s coming to make you leave. Tomorrow, we can go get you some new clothes. I’m tired of looking at those raggedy t-shirts already.”
Terry took her jab in stride and gave her a half smile as a sign of compliance. “Yes ma’am. Thank you.”
“Mhm. Lock the door behind you when you come in.”
“Good night, Treecey.” His farewell came in an annoyingly sweet voice as a last-ditch effort to drag some loving words from her. Patrice stopped and gave him one more once over and a dismissive eye roll.
He waited for the ghost of a smile that disappeared before he could blink. She shook her head and took a step inside the house.
“Shut up, Terry. Go to bed.”
Terry hid his amusement until she was out of sight, leaving him alone to grin at how even her rebukes felt like love letters.
“Shut up,” he repeated to himself as he closed his eyes to doze again. “Hm. I’ll take it.”
TAGS: @planetblaque
Happy to tag whoever is interested.
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lost cause.
pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, kinda angsty idk?; unedited bc we live just to suffer, erhm i don't think there's a lot of warnings here, open to interpretation if oc is depressed 🤔; basically “it's rotten work,” “not to me. not if it’s you,” + that one scene in nobody wants this (if you’ve watched the show you’ll know what i’m talking about) word count: 0.6k listen to 🎧: risk - gracie abrams
as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡
navigation / masterlist / ko-fi
“i think i’m starting to hate myself again.”
your voice is casual when you say it, indifferent, nonchalant, as if you’re merely bringing up the weather or reading from a shopping list. you’re used to it by now — the fact that it comes and goes, that if there are highs then there must be lows too. that sometimes, there are no good days, just better ones.
you know minho hasn’t fallen asleep because you still feel him playing with your hair while you lay on his chest, his index finger twisting a lock around before letting it fall over your back. he doesn’t falter, not even once. no change in his calming breathing, no sign that he’s all too surprised by your sudden announcement. you suppose he’s used to it as much as you are.
he’s quiet for a while, like the night outside the comfort of your bedroom. the weather forecast warned you of thunderstorms, but everything remained still and safe. there wasn’t even a spark of lightning to be found.
when minho finally speaks, only a simple “okay,” comes out, followed by a question. “then i’ll love you more to make up for it. how much time do you need? couple weeks?”
you shake your head. “longer,” you say.
“couple months?”
a beat of silence. another shake. “longer.”
“couple years?” he asks. no hesitation. “couple decades?”
minho can’t see you from this position, but you can hear the sound of his heart. he’s steady and secure and you’re nothing more than a fickle flame that’s always on the verge of going out.
“you can’t handle it,” you tell him. “better to quit while you’re ahead.”
it would be so easy, wouldn’t it? for him to pack up before he realizes somewhere down the line that he’s wasted his time and effort on a lost cause?
“i know what you’re doing, by the way. stop that.”
you pretend to ask, “what am i doing?”
before you know it, he’s already managed to flip the both of you over. he’s hovering over you with his forearms on either side of your head, effectively caging you in, chest to chest, and his hips pressed flush against yours.
“i told you i’m not going anywhere,” minho says, brushing some hair away from your face. “stop trying to get me to leave.”
you blink. he’s so close and oh so warm, so beautiful as he stares down at you, so patient and kind when you’re telling him that you need him to love the parts that even you can’t bring yourself to love.
your hands settle on his shoulders. “don’t blame me when you regret it.”
“i won’t regret it. not if it’s you.”
then he’s kissing you, soft and slow, and that’s when you finally hear the first roar of thunder that should’ve arrived hours ago. he kisses you like he was made for you — or you for him, you’re not really sure, but it can’t possibly matter that much.
“so?” minho prompts after he’s pulled away, “how long?”
his eyes are sparkling and you’re still a little dazed. lightheaded but you know that you’ll always love him the most, know that you’re pushing it, know that you’re asking for what many would never be willing to give. “what if i say i’ll need you for the rest of my life?”
his lips curl into a tender smile, one that he presses to your mouth once again. you taste devotion in the kiss, in the way one of his hands crosses the short distance to hold your face so delicately it makes your heart hurt.
“i’ll love you more for the rest of our lives then.”
all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 30.10.2024]
#stray kids fic#stray kids imagines#stray kids fluff#stray kids angst#stray kids x reader#skz fic#skz imagines#skz x reader#skz x you#lee know fluff#lee know angst#lee know scenarios#lee know x reader#lee know imagines#lee know x you#lee minho x reader#lee minho x you#stray kids#lee know#lee minho
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thanks, peg J
summary: Dr. Michael Robinavitch needs help building a shelf.
cw: 2.7k words, fluff, my actual husband is an actual doctor i should probably know more/anything about how hospitals work, vague age gap (reader/oc is in her 30's), vague to graphic depictions of injury/illness, fem!OC/reader.
a/n: paging dr. daddy :) <3
(gif cred)
She pulled her stethoscope off her neck. “Oof. Sounds like a ball of a Friday night. Is it from Ikea?”
“The Ivar,” Robby specified with a nod and shrug. He looked back down at the patient list from their shift, which couldn’t have been ending at a more merciful time. The last man she had examined had spat on her. And what else should she expect?; she’d diagnosed his pain as a small kidney stone passing through his urethra and written a prescription that would all but eliminate the discomfort. If that wasn’t deserving of a loogie to the face, she didn’t know what else would be. Robby let out a sigh that sounded exactly like the exhaustion tugging her eyelids down.
Nurse Dana swept by them, her fleece jacket already three-quarters of the way on. “Don’t take too long on those autographs, kids, or night shift will just let you keep right on rolling.”
A raspy little laugh slipped past Dr. Robby’s lips and the corners of his eyes crinkled the way they always did on the rare occasions someone could tug a genuine smile out of him. Suddenly, she wasn’t sure if the lack of breakfast and the bag of Ritz crackers she’d scarfed down for lunch were the only things making her light-headed.
“Yes, ma’am,” he called after Dana. The charge nurse raised her hand without turning around and wiggled her fingers at them while darting out the double doors that led to the waiting room and exit before anyone could stop her. Robby turned back to the doctor next to him and handed her the clipboard he’d just finished signing about two hundred times.
Her hand grazed his, and the level of attention she paid to how warm and rough his fingers felt made her grit her jaw in frustration. It was her first year as an attending, how could she be letting something as ridiculous as a workplace crush get to her? She realized it had been a while since she’d spoken, and that Robby was pulling his own coat and backpack from underneath his desk.
“Need any help chasing down the million nuts and bolts that are guaranteed to burst out of the little bag when you open it?” she offered jokingly. Robby’s eyes flicked to her too fast. She felt her hairline heat up, worried she’d overstepped.
None of the attendings did anything outside of work together; the work hours were long enough to get their fill of each other without feeling the need to add alcohol or food to the mix. Some of the students and residents would occasionally hit bars after their shifts, and though she had no desire to join them, it made her miss the relative lack of responsibility of med school. Dr. Robinavitch, in particular, never broached the topic of his personal life at work, so she tried to do the same. There were too many patients to see and too much to accomplish to bother checking if the attractive ER chief with the puppy-dog eyes had plans for the weekend. No matter how much she wanted to.
He let out another chuckle, though this one was without humor. "Don't tell me you got nothing better to do than that," he said. "On a Friday night."
"I'm, uh, still finding my way around Pittsburgh." It was true. Her residency in California had spoiled her, and she found the stark greyness of Pennsylvania off-putting. She rarely ventured from her apartment for anything other than work and necessary grocery shopping.
He regarded her for a few seconds. His gaze felt heavier than it should have, as if she had some symptom that didn't line up with her lab results. She remembered what Dr. Santos had muttered to her on her first day at the Pitt when she'd caught the new doctor staring a little too long at Robby typing his notes.
"I know. He's crazy hot, right?" Trinity had pinched her elbow and embarrassment had made her stutter nonsensically. Then, to top off the humiliation, Trinity had started swaying her shoulders side to side and singing under her breath, "I will be your father figure, put your tiny hand in mine..." The younger woman was known for being abrasive, but, shit, she was a perceptive little fucker, too.
"I'd be a fool to turn down help wrangling Ivar. Ikea furniture is my Achilles heel," Robby was saying when she snapped back to the present. He seemed hesitant. He couldn't tell whether she'd been joking or not, and, frankly, she couldn't either. "But I couldn't ask you to–"
"You'd be doing me a favor," she cut in quickly. He would, in more ways than one. "If I sit on my couch with my cat for one more weekend, I think they're gonna start letting me collect Social Security."
A genuine laugh! Her stomach flipped upside down at the sight and the sound. Both were warm and inviting and made her want to kiss each of the individual lines on his weathered face. "Then by all means, please."
Oh, wait. Was this happening? Was it, actually? Nerves gnawed at her while she finished handing off the patient list to the night shift. What was it? A date? A friend helping another friend put a shelf together? A coworker helping another, older and more senior coworker who intimidated the hell out of her put a shelf together?
As Robby departed through the same double doors Dana had dashed through, he turned and pointed significantly at his phone, and she pulled hers from her pocket to see that he had texted her his address. Nothing else, just the address, dashed out in Robby’s usual efficient and minimalistic tone. He hadn’t even included the city and zip, but he didn’t need to. Living further than 15 minutes away from the hospital seemed like something a less dedicated physician might consider, but she knew that Robby didn’t really live at the address he’d sent her, anyway. He lived in all the exam rooms and hallways surrounding her, their sanitized scent pricking at her nose one last time before she stepped into the waiting room and the few remaining rays of sunlight waiting to greet her outside.
The door opened on her second knock, or, more accurately, before she could even finish it. Goddammit. She should have taken more time to consider what an off-duty Dr. Robby might look like.
“Hey,” he said, a genial smile lighting up his tired face.
“H–mm, hi,” she replied. She tried to hide a swallow.
Robby stood aside and let her pass through the front door of the aged but charming brownstone. The long hallway was lined with dark wooden panels that creaked when she walked over them. She tried not to feel him following behind her, the scent of some musky shampoo or body wash drifting off him. She also showered directly after a shift. Too much hospital.
A line of hooks held various jackets and sling bags, and a haphazard pile of worn sneakers sat beneath them. “I gotta get a rack for those, or something,” Robby muttered from behind her, noticing her sightline.
“You should see mine. The floor of my closet is a nightmare.”
She walked into the living room and couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face. It was sparsely but cozily finished, an overstuffed couch and matching loveseat positioned atop a plush rug that hugged her feet taking up most of the space. And, of course, a veritable disaster of boards, planks, plastic bags, and ripped cardboard in the middle of all of it.
“Yikes.”
“Thank you, again, for helping me with this,” he said, and came to stand beside her. “Why is it that I can perform a trach in my sleep, but the assembly of Swedish furniture is my downfall?” He scratched the back of his neck, the white t-shirt he was wearing showing off far too much of what was usually hidden beneath a few layers of thermals, scrubs, and hoodies. Her hairline started to feel hot again.
She cleared her throat and made her way over to the pile of shelf. “For what med school costs, they really should be teaching us the essentials like this stuff, too!” He didn’t respond, making her look up at him. He was watching her again, with that sort-of-absent-but-always-thoughtful x-ray vision. She wished he’d stop.
“You really got none of the cynicism and all of the optimism out of your residency, didn’t you?”
She flushed and looked back down at the ground, unsure if he was making fun of her. “It being basically on the ocean didn’t hurt. Lots to be optimistic about in northern Cali, it’s so beautiful.”
Robby shook his Midwest-born-and-bred head. “Damn hippy.” His voice was gruff, but his dark eyes were sparkling and she felt some of the tension in her shoulders dissipate in a giggle. He crossed the room and through an arch that led to the kitchen. “I ordered some Chinese for dinner, hope that’s alright,” he called back to her.
The tension returned tenfold and her heart began doing somersaults in her chest. Dinner? This included dinner now? Sure, it was time for dinner, but she hadn’t wanted to be so presumptuous as to suggest adding food to this friendly favor she was performing. Robby returned laden with white paper takeout boxes and a handful of napkins and chopsticks. “Like lo mein?” he asked. She nodded.
“Yes, but you really didn’t have to get anything for me! That’s so nice,” she gushed, trying to reign in the attraction to this man and behave as if he was just any other rugged, kind, intelligent guy she might come in contact with. She was so screwed.
He pressed the box of lo mein into her hand with a pair of chopsticks. “It’s the least I can do to thank you for helping with this,” he shrugged. “Hopefully, you still have an appetite after that bike accident from this morning.” The memory of the young man’s torso torn open and spilling out onto the operating table sent a nauseous wave from her head to her stomach, but she quickly compartmentalized it, as she’d learned to do long ago.
“Why do people even buy motorcycles,” she muttered rhetorically.
“Uh, because they love visiting you so very much,” he returned with a wink that made her miss her mouth with the chopsticks.
Two hours later, the shelf was only two-feet tall and missing three of the nine screws it had required so far.
“Peg L, peg L, peg L,” Robby said through gritted teeth, “where the fuck is peg L?”
She held the instructions centimeters away from her face, hoping the proximity would illuminate its solutions somehow. “Peg L goes into plank K. We just placed plank H.” He stopped running his hands along the carpet to search for the missing peg L and looked up at her with a speck of encroaching insanity peeking through.
“I’m out of order?”
“Miiiike,” she laugh-groaned. “Did you already use peg G? We need J right now!” When he didn’t answer, she glanced up from the “simple” instruction packet. A sleepy kind of flush appeared on his face, and he pulled the reading glasses off to massage the bridge of his nose and–hide it? Then, he sighed.
“God, no one’s called me just…Mike in forever.” It was a complete sentence, a complete statement, a complete story, and he was done talking about it, but it made a million questions bubble up in the back of her throat. She ignored them.
“You’re at work too much,” she almost whispered. Why she was no longer scared of stepping over some professional, coworker boundary, she wasn’t sure. Maybe it was the way he had accepted her help with such a domestic task, or the fact that they were seeing each other in something other than scrubs for the first time (the loose, perfectly worn-in jeans he was wearing would surely be appearing in her dreams that night), or maybe it was because their legs had been pressed together for the last half hour as they tried to decipher the mysteries of Ivar. Whatever it was, Robby–Mike, felt it, too. He stared into her eyes before averting them to the floor and mumbling,
“Yeah. I know.” He put the glasses back on. “So, peg J.”
“C’mere, ya little Swedish asshole,” she agreed, and they resumed pawing around the rug to try and find the screws that, as predicted, had spilled from the package as soon as Robby had ripped it. She tried to avoid brushing against his hand as well as she could, until her fingers bumped into a tiny piece of metal, and she snatched the screw from the ground. Carefully consulting the instructions, she looked from the page, to the screw, to the page, before shouting, “Oh my God, I found it!”
His hands were cradling either side of her face in a second, and then he was kissing her. The part of her brain that handled compartmentalization clocked in at lightning speed and swept all her confusion into the bin so she could focus on nothing except his beard scratching her, his warm hands cupping her jaw. Well, well before she had gotten her fill of him, he pulled back and blurted, “Awesome! Good job, let’s put it in.” He plucked the screw out of her hand like the conversation had just been on pause, scooting over on his knees to the feeble half-shelf.
She sat in complete shock until Robby, without turning to face her, said, “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.”
“Mike.”
“You just looked–and I, it’s been…I’m really sorry.”
“Mike.”
He was attempting to twist the screw into place with his fingers so he didn’t have to come get the screwdriver from beside her. “I overstepped. It won’t happen again. If you want to take it to HR…”
That was enough to jumpstart her brain again, and she burst into laughter, forcing him to finally spin around.
“HR? Really?” She made a phone out of her pinky, fist, and thumb and held it to her ear. “Hello, Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center Department of Human Resources? Yes, I’d like to file a report against one of your doctors.” She was having a hard time stifling her laughter. “Dr. Michael Robinavitch. Yes, the hottie from the ER, that’s correct. He really laid one on me—"
It was Robby's turn to cut her off, and he did so by rolling his eyes and snatching the instructions out of her other hand. "Hey!" She dove after them but decided instead to drag him in by the collar of his shirt for another kiss. They both held each other tightly, Robby's hands wandering, respectfully, under the hem of her shirt. When she tugged a handful of his hair, he grunted in annoyance.
"Watch it. Don't have much of that left."
"You've got a lot for an old man." She regretted it as soon as she said it, even though he had already alluded to it. His head dropped and apologies bubbled up and out of her lips, assurances that that's not how she'd meant it, that he was the most attractive man she'd met at the Pitt, but he waved them off.
His glasses were sliding down his nose again. He cleared his throat and pushed them back up. "Are you okay with it, then? I mean, I know I'm not..." Her heart ached when he trailed off, nervously scratching the back of his neck again.
"Very ok," she whispered. She reached for his hand and took it. He was fiddling with a screw that she plucked out and tossed to the side. "I'm 31, you know, Senior Elder Doctor Robinavitch."
Robby smiled, clearly in spite of himself. He tucked a piece of hair that had fallen into her eyes behind her ear. For a minute, they just sat and looked at each other, matching each other's lazy smiles. "That's it. Didn't want to have to do this, but you're fired."
"Okay now I want to take this to HR."
masterlist
#being RESPECTFUL with this one cuz the tag is still growing :)#i'm not off hiatus just dropping and running lol!!!#this show is so effing stressful i have no other recourse but to stare at Him#the pitt x reader#dr. robby x reader#michael robinavitch x reader#doctor robby x reader#laneywrites#noah wyle if you see this i am free thursday night please reply if you are also free thursday night#trying a new (lazier) aesthetic w this one and it feels good feels organic xx
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January 2025 FanFic✨
Welcome Everyone! It's been a long time since I've posted anything on Tumblr and for this year, I wanted to start posting more fanfic recommendations to share my love for the authors, instead of being in the shadows and for more people to enjoy them. I will try to post every month the fanfics that I've read (which hopefully I stick by 🤞🏼) but for January, I have mostly Jungkook fanfics so hopefully you enjoy the list and have found something you also love❤️
The majority of fics are 18+ so MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.
Legend:
🦷-fluff
🔥-angst
🌶️-smut
👅-crack/funny
❣️-personal favourite
✍🏼-ongoing
JUNGKOOK
The Corporate Equation by @someonegoood 🦷🔥❣️✍🏼
-this is in a corporate setting with jungkook as the CEO and y/n as the head of HR. Grumpy x sunshine trope, but really cute because we get to see jungkook slowly but surely softening up to y/n no matter how hard they try to deny it🤭
Neighbor Blunder by @awrkive 🦷🔥🌶️❣️✍🏼
-now listen to me, this is really good😭 I really love the dynamic between oc and Jungkook especially now with the new update👀 He's a gentleman, he doesn't beat around the bushes and sets his intentions straight to oc. I'm really excited about what happens next and will be lurking on AO3 for new updates because I cannot wait
ctrl+alt+delete by @muniimyg 🦷🔥🌶️👅
-obviously, I need to add in a social media au because they are really quick to read and this one is no exception. OC is an OF content creator and jungkook is a youtuber. Both of them are really funny and the interactions with their fans are really cute as well!
Playing the Part by @goldenchimmy 🌶️
-this was really good! it was such a nice build-up to the smut scene which is just perfection. Jungkook's such a gentleman and I need more of him please😭
True Love by @lovieku 🦷🔥🌶️
-this was really cute because OC's a simp for Jungkook and I would be too. It was also so heartwarming that they were able to find comfort within each other when OC would get panic attacks and show each other acts of love
The Love Prognosis by @awrkive 🦷🔥🌶️❣️
-A fan favourite of course 🫶🏻 I related to this a lot (the unrequited love part😶) and just being there for the person you love even if they're not with you, but will ultimately hurt Jungkook in the process. highly recommend it if you haven't read this and the drabbles because they are also extremely fun to read!
Teach Me How To Love by @kookooluvr 🦷🔥🌶️✍🏼❣️
-Another fan favourite because it's just THAT good. everything's going good at the current update of them going to Jeju but I'm ready for the angst that's about to commence😭 Ultimately, I just want Jungkook to finally have his girl fr
The Farmhouse by @solecize 🦷🔥
-the plot was something different from the fics that I usually gravitate to in January. this is a friends to lovers, set in a small town where OC is restoring her grandpa's farm and she reunites with her childhood friend. I love every little aspect of this fic because it deals with grief, growing up, and love. I love the subtleness of Jungkook's love for OC in the beginning where he helps her out in the farm, but it slowly grows toward the end, this is just such a wholesome read!
YOONGI
Love & Lullabies by @ktownshizzle 🦷🔥🌶️
-DILF yoongi because it needs its own warninggg. this was also a really cute and heartwarming read. in every part I read, their love for each other just grows and grows. give this fic some love because you won't regret it!
NAMJOON
Empty Box by @moni-logues 🔥🌶️
-I had hope for the ending but alas this fic does not have a happy ending 🥹 this fic does contain infidelity which I would typically stay away from but I gave it a chance and wow. the writing is really beautiful and rich, you can feel the pain both Namjoon and OC go through throughout their journey which leaves you feeling like you've also gone through the waves of their relationship. The plot feels realistic which makes it 10 times more painful
SHORT FICS
satellite by @httpknjoon 🦷🔥
: Your friend, Jungkook, offers to help you while you review for your human anatomy exam.
Petals and Fists by @kissyforkoo 🦷🔥
: boxer!jk x florist!oc
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carmen 'carmy' berzatto masterlist
Thee Carmy x Reader 'Make My Heart Surrender' Universe (In Chronological Order):
comfort & chaos (prequel to make my heart surrender)
a series of vignettes: the five times carmen berzatto fell in love with you a little and the one time he finally told you. (completed)
october 2019 | covid & carbonara | heat waves | 2/22/22** | called you again | home**
the phone call (blurb - the phone call that gets reader to chicago in the first place)
make my heart surrender
after quitting your job at the restaurant you both used to work at, carmy asks you to come in and work with his pastry chef at his new spot, the bear. only, the longer you stick around, it becomes clear that you have unfinished business. will one week in chicago change your life, and his, forever? (completed)
tuesday | wednesday | thursday | friday (**18+ for smut) | saturday/sunday | monday | tuesday, again | the playlist
home (final chapter from comfort & chaos - **smut)
try a little tenderness (fluff & angst blurb)
cigarettes & coffee (fluffy blurb)
strawberries & cigarettes (fluffy blurb)
j is for james beard... and for jealousy (**smut oneshot | 18+ only)
your past and mine are parallel lines (fluff oneshot)
pov: carmy makes people magazine's sexiest chef alive list (fluff blurb)
bad moon rising (what if/angst-shot -- guest starring mikey berzatto)
sister-in-law (fluff oneshot -- guest starring natalie berzatto)
still into you (sequel to make my heart surrender)
you, syd, marcus, and carmy return to where it all began: new york city, prompting you and carmy to think a lot about your past... and your future together. (completed)
thursday | **bonus smut scene | friday | saturday | sunday | it's perfect, chef (**bonus smut scene)
don't want to walk alone
the long awaited wedding fic for carmy x reader in the make my heart surrender universe. this six part series chronicles the wedding planning, your (not) bachelorette party, the wedding, and the honeymoon as you build a life with your husband-to-be. (completed)
june/july | august | september | the honeymoon pt 1 | the honeymoon pt 2 | epilogue: november
granola blurb
carmy as your baby daddy
a social media au & headcanon series detailing your first pregnancy with carmy. created for the make my heart surrender universe, but can be read as a standalone work. this has been created in collaboration with @carmensberzattos & @allthefandomstogether , the graphic goddess. (completed)
part one | part two | part three | part four | give you my wild, give you a child (**smut-shot) | part five | part six | part seven
the social media au
scenes from the relationship & this story depicted as social media posts. won't always align with my other social media/moodboards.
part one | part two: first year of dating | part three |
extras/moodboards/headcanons/imagines:
your life as a pastry chef in chicago while dating carmy (moodboard & headcanon)
meeting mikey in another lifetime (headcanon)
pov: you're marrying carmen berzatto (moodboard)
honeymoon lingerie moodboard
christmas with carmy moodboard & blurb
The Bear: Unrelated to Make My Heart Surrender:
(nothing here YET but working on it)
so my darling | sydney adamu x male!chef oc
jealous!carmy & jealous!luca headcanon
stargazing with marcus brooks (blurb)
sneaking around with carmy (blurb)
#nolita fairytale's masterlist#carmen berzatto x you#carmy berzatto#carmy x oc#the bear hulu#the bear fx#jeremy allen white#carmen 'carmy' berzatto#carmy berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto#carmy berzatto headcanon#the bear headcanon#carmy berzatto imagines#carmy berzatto fluff#comfort and chaos#still into you#make my heart surrender#carmen berzatto smut#carmy smut#carmy berzatto smut
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Engineer’s workshop!
Please for the love of Engineer, click and zoom in.
I tried to put lots of luttle things to find in here
Stats, yapping, and in progress pics below the cut. Also a list of Easter eggs and references!
Estimated time elapsed: 28+ hours
Brush strokes ~27k
Date started: dec 8th 2024
Date complete jan 17 2025
Strain to my poor brain: infinite
Okay in all seriousness this was really hard and in a good way. I really tried to push my rendering, my attempts at making a scene complex, my visual storytelling, my perspective abilities, all that junk. Originally my engie oc was supposed to be standing there but I just couldn’t get him to fit in so I scrapped it. Plus he’s blue team and this is the red engineers workshop.
Fun fact nothing is traced, not even that teleporter, I took the image of it off the wiki, got in a call with my friends, and spent 45 mins cursing out my existence while sketching it. There was also originally a full level two sentry where the scout bot was but I hated myself tryna draw it so I stopped because this is meant to be a fun excercise.
In the future, over a long long time, I intend to do the rest of the mercs rooms, and snipers van, just since engie is my fave I started here. Expect me to take a looong break before I do the next tho. This is exhausting to do. The medic in his office doesn’t count for this he was a test run to prove to myself I could do this.
In progress images, in order



A list of things in here in no particular order
A tiny desk engineer
A scout bunny
Breadly the bread monster, who’s escaped (a pun on the name bradley)
Sniper
The top to a mini sentry
A level 2/3 sentry gun
A disassembled scout bot
Gunslinger parts
A dispenser blueprint
A baseball
A 2fart sticker and tf2 sticker
Another sentry light
A graffiti’d “do not feed the birds” poster that the ig version of exists in game
A yeti warning poster feom the game
A “wear your hardhats” poster from the game
The stock and southern hospitality wrenches
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One Of The Girls | Marcus Acacius x F!Reader x 3 F!Nameless OCs | ~1.1k wc | Explicit. Minors DNI.
Summary: General Acacius has three women that he keeps solely for his indulgent pleasure and control, you want to become the fourth.
Tags: voyeurism, marcus has multiple partners, dom!marcus tbh, sub!reader and sub!ocs, brief descriptions of sexual acts (riding, blowjob), probably not historically accurate we're just vibing here, era typical patriarchal bullshit, the girls kiss, no use of y/n, reader is afab and able bodied, has no defining physical descriptions except that she wears a stola, all three ocs are blank slates so imagine your favorite ladies (pls... for me 🫶🏽), any typos/grammar mistakes are of my own doing and i apologize in advance, if i missed any other tags pls let me know okay, thanks!
A/N: the general brainrot is real, sorry not sorry. this is my submission to @chaotic-mystery's WIRED 4 YOU challenge 🖤 thank you so much for hosting this, mads and i hope you have a wonderful birthday ✨ i had track ten from act i: one of the girls by the weeknd ft lily-rose depp and jennie 🕯️ the entire soundtrack of this cursed show is my guilty pleasure, so when i saw this song listed i just knew i had to snatch it on up 🙂↕️ hope you all enjoy, and as always let me know what you think! 🖤
The torches flickered in their sconces, casting long shadows against the marble walls of the bathhouse. Steam curled in the air, thick with the scent of myrrh and rose water, as you pressed yourself deeper into the alcove, hidden from the elite revelers who moved like phantoms through the night. Your silk stola, far too fine for this place, clung to your damp skin, but you did not care. Your eyes were on him.
General Acacius reclined against the polished stone, his greying brown curls damp with heat, a scar cutting across his nose, another on his cheek. His curved nose and full beard lent him an air of authority, a warlord draped in debauchery. Golden skin glistened with perfumed oil, emphasizing the sinew of his powerful frame as he indulged in his pleasures.
Three women surrounded him, each a jewel he had obtained from faraway lands to serve his singular desires. They were not merely whores—no, they were his playthings, dolls, hand-selected and molded to his tastes.
One knelt between his thighs, obedient lips wrapped around his thick cock, her devotion evident in every languid stroke of her tongue and lewd gag.
Another straddled his thick thigh, her body moving in slow, torturous rhythms as his large hands guided her hips with an authority that left no room for disobedience, her pussy leaking and swollen.
The third, delicate as a carved figurine, poured honeyed wine between her breasts, offering him the indulgence of licking it from her skin, lips wrapping around her nipple, her moans as sweet as the nectar that dripped from her.
They were his spoils, his prizes. Coming to him willingly, enamored by his reputation, eager to be chosen.
Each bore the mark of his ownership in some way—golden torques around their throats, inked symbols along their soft and pretty skin, the whisper of his name in their sighs.
He was their god, their tyrant, their salvation.
A sharp pang of envy curled in your belly, molten and relentless.
You wanted to be them.
Not one of the noble daughters doomed to a lifeless marriage, bartered off like a prize goat for the sake of political gain. No, you wanted to be owned—wholly, irrevocably—by him.
The first time you heard whispers of his indulgences, you had thought them scandalous. A man of bloodshed, ruthless on the battlefield, bringing that same ruthless discipline into the bedroom. But when you had seen him that night, wielding pleasure like a weapon, you had known—this was the life you were meant for.
Since then, obsession had taken root in you, winding tight around your ribs, pressing against your lungs with every thought of him. You spent your days languishing in fantasies, picturing what it would be like to be one of his girls—to be chosen, touched, tamed.
You imagined the weight of his hands—strong, calloused, pressing into your flesh, leaving evidence of his conquering. How his voice, rough and commanding, would send tremors of lust down your spine, each syllable laced with the promise of exquisite torment.
You ached for the sharp sting of his discipline, the intoxicating blend of pain and pleasure that would shatter you and sculpt you anew beneath his relentless touch. Submission.
But your name, your bloodline, held you in its grip like iron shackles.
Until tonight.
You had risked it all, slipping away from the confines of your family's domus, following the murmured rumors of Acacius’ presence at this private revel. You had stolen past guards and chattering senators, seeking this moment, this glimpse of decadence that sent arousal slicking between your thighs.
And now, as if summoned by your silent yearning, his eyes found yours.
A sharp thrill lanced through you as he tilted his head, dark eyes dragging over you, unreadable yet knowing. The woman in his lap moaned, lost in the pleasure of his cock as she rode him passionately, but Acacius no longer seemed concerned with her. His attention was locked on you.
Slowly, deliberately, he lifted his hand and beckoned.
The breath fled your lungs, knees weakening as heat flooded your cunt. You hesitated for only a moment before stepping from the shadows, your silk-draped form illuminated by the flickering lamplight. The other women watched you with interest, lounging on the lectus with freshly picked fruit between them, naked and caressing one another—but you had no eyes for them.
Acacius leaned forward as you approached, his grip tightening around the waist of the woman in his lap. Without breaking your gaze, he lifted her from his cock with practiced ease, setting her aside like a finished feast.
She let out a breathless giggle, reclining into the embrace of another girl who kissed her with lazy indulgence. There was no jealousy here—only a shared reverence for the man who owned them all.
“On your knees,” he murmured, voice rough like a blade against leather. It's as if he knew what you were coming here to find.
You obeyed, sinking to the marble, the cool stone a sharp contrast to the heat burning inside you. Blood roared in your ears, but you did not tremble. This was what you had prayed for.
His fingers cup the back of your neck, angling your head back so you had no choice but to meet his dark brown eyes.
“You wear a noble’s silk,” he mused, running the edge of your stola between his fingers. “Yet you kneel as if you were born a whore.”
A shiver wracked your spine as he brushed the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip. You parted your lips instinctively, your breath warm against his skin.
“Tell me,” he murmured, “do you seek pleasure, or do you seek purpose?”
“Both,” you whispered, voice barely more than breath.
The corner of his mouth curled.
“Then prove yourself worthy.”
Your pulse thundered as he leaned back, legs spread wide in silent command. The other women looked on, not with jealousy, but with knowing approval. They had all been here before. They knew what it meant to serve him, to belong to him. And tonight, they would witness your initiation.
With steady hands, you reached for him, fingers gliding over the rigid heat of his cock, marveling at the weight of him in your palm, how he glistened with the arousal of his lover's cunt. Acacius groaned low in his throat, the sound sending another rush of arousal to your pussy. Your lips parted, eager, hungry, as you lowered your mouth to him—
Tonight, the chains of your status would shatter beneath the weight of your desire.
Tonight, you would become one of his girls.
#WIRED4YOUCHALLENGE#pedro pascal#marcus acacius smut#marcus acacius x reader#marcus acacius x you#gladiator ii#marcus acacius fic#marcus acacius fanfic#marcus acacius oneshot#kat's writing.
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Hello Gappleduo enjoyers.
I started working on this shit 5th of November. I’m FREEEEEEE
Anyway. Something from the Fellow in the North AU, if any of you remember lol. I originally posted about it … TWO?? years ago lol. It’s named after a song of the same name by Cold Weather Company. (Which you should listen to. That’s one of my fave songs of all time. Please?) Anyway this is why Dream wears his mask lmfao. And not long after this he’ll draw a smiley face on it and it’ll make Phil laugh.
I’ve posted about it before here and here (I consider this one part of the au but more because it sparked the idea) Feel free to send me asks about this au if you’d like.
Edit: Bruh I sent it to a friend and then a group chat and none of them pointed out there was a mistake god dangit. It’s gone now tho but m a n. Man.
Under the cut: me rambling about stuff and things
Okay so uh the way I “note” things down is mostly just by rambling things to my friends through text messages and whenever I need to find them again I just look it up in the chat logs. But I did find some key notes about this au in a google docs. Tell me why my immediate reaction to something I wrote myself was just

(Image stolen form Pinterest)
“HE WHAT-”
Anyway
If I ever continue this story, fair warning that c!Wilbur is in it (Dead. Bro is completely fridged even before the story starts.) I wrote a pros and cons list of him being in here and he was several of the cons. Unfortunately I found the story to be more interesting if he was in it so. Yeah :/
Also show some love to @kyo-mei for always being willing to look over my shit and make corrections and listen to me when I ramble. They’re awesome and I love them.
Bonus: Something dubiously canon, set after the escape from the forest and done before I got a better idea of what I wanted Dream’s hair to be like
Bonus bonus: wip collage
Also also I’m not to sure how but I am now very much into TRANSFORMERS of ALL THINGS??? THE JUMP FROM MCYT TO K-POP WAS ONE THING BUT JUMPING BACK TO MCYT AND THEN TRANSFORMERS WAS ANOTHER. Anyway I read all of More Than Meets the Eye + Lost Light (comics) and uh. Honest to god cried when I reached the end so. Yeah. I’m still not over the fact that I got into the robots that turn into cars. I’m still not over that basic fact. I remember it once in a while and just get a hundred yard stare. My fave guy is a Decepticon called Soundwave. He’s cool. He’s got pets(?) kids(?). (… I’m cringe but I’m free I’m cringe but I’m free I’m cringe but I’m free) Oh and I’m pretty sure at one point I watched Rise of the Guardians and it stuck in my head enough that I made an oc about it. (I make ocs just about every new thing I get into. The one I have from Transformers is weirdly developed to a higher level than usual so I might do something with that one day. Or not lol)
Anyway
Yeah :>
#gapple duo#gappleduo#dreamwastaken#dreblr#dream fanart#philza fanart#mcyt#my art#fanart#dsmp#fellow in the north au#long post
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