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starlightrows · 1 year ago

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15 — Shadow

Hiding In Plain Sight

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Pairing: Commander Wolffe x reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: Serious illness, discussion of death

Summary: You are happy to be reunited with your team, but begin to struggle with some worrying health concerns

Your relaxing three days of “guard duty” doesn’t last nearly as long as you would have hoped. The moment you return to The Radiant you are caught up in the backlog of work you’ve missed and the current workload that comes your way. Long hours in the med bay, endless paperwork, returning to physical training and going out on assignment with the team whenever called upon.

Each day that passes leaves you feeling like you have less and less energy to start with each morning. Caf feels like it’s becoming less effective, but you still need it just to stay awake during your designated time for your notes and reports. You’re lifting lighter weights during training, physically incapable of making your usual mile time even when you push yourself, and just the other day you noticed after showering that your body is looking slimmer than what is normal for you. But you are not the only one who has begun picking up on these subtle changes.

Wolffe repeats your name for a second time, “Did you hear what I said?”

“Huh?” You snap out of your brain fog and look up from your data pad though you have no idea what you were just looking at on it, or what you and Wolffe had been talking about before you looked down at it.

“I said Ashoka will be joining us for the Uttresh mission” he repeats “Are you feeling alright?”

“Oh yeah, it’ll be nice to see her again” you nod “I’m fine, just tired”

“Just tired huh?” He gives you a stern look “You and I both know that this is more than just a little tired. You haven’t been yourself lately”

“Wolffe, I’m fine, really” you try to assure him, standing from your desk and coming around to stand close to him.

He brushes down the length of your arm and takes your hand, his face is still serious and unconvinced. “I know you don’t want to, but I really think you should take the rest of the day off, and maybe call one of your medic friends for a second opinion. It’s been three months and you’re still struggling. Don’t think I haven’t noticed”

Your face seems to fall when he says that. “I guess I can send my lab work out for a second opinion”

He lifts your chin “You can’t take care of us if you can’t take care of yourself, remember?”

“Yeah” you nod, you preach that to them all of the time. You need to listen to your own advice.

“Go take a nap, I’ll let training out early tonight and come spend time with you” he says, trying to sound positive

“And if I sneak back into the med bay to work?” you grin mischievously

“Then I’m going to sneak lock you in an exam room to rest” he counters “Don’t make me order you to go”

“Order me anyway, just for fun” you grin

He rolls his eyes and leans down to kiss you “Go take a nap. That’s an order, Captain”

“Yes sir” you kiss him back and leave the office.

He’s glad to hear you teasing and joking, but it stings because he knows you’re covering for how miserable you are right now. True to his word, he lets the team out early from physical training and heads off to find you. He finds you laying on your bed, not sleeping just laying on your side and staring off into space. The door closes behind him and begins to take off his kit and boots, leaving it all by the door so he can lay down behind you. He curls himself around your body, snaking an arm around your waist and pulling you in close. He presses his nose into your hair and kisses your head.

“Did you nap?” He asks, lacing his fingers with yours

“Yeah” your voice is soft and relaxed “I sent off the lab work to several of my colleagues. You were right, this is getting out of hand and I can’t afford to ignore it any longer”

His lip twitches, a pulse of frustration comes before the relief that you made the right call. You shouldn’t have to be dealing with this. And the prospect of this mysterious condition being something serious causes a sense of panic in his body that he shuts down and pushes away immediately.

“Whatever this is, we will figure it out together” he says “I promise”

“Thank you” you smile, breathing deeply “I prefer this you know. Being sick and with you, than working in that nightmare med station without you”

He chuckles a little, “I would rather you be safe and healthy, but I agree this is much better than the alternative”

You hum in agreement. A lull falls over you both. Happy to have the time and space to just be near each other, but below the grateful surface is anxiety and dread. The war doesn’t stop and this strange exhaustion and weakness is putting you at risk. There’s no sense in talking about it now when there is nothing to be done. Now you wait. Until the symptoms go away. Until a test comes back conclusive. Until one of your colleagues has a theory. Until the bloody war ends.

Weeks pass and you hear nothing from your friends and colleagues. You continue on as best you can, trying to make time to rest and research the cause of your sudden weakness and fatigue.

One afternoon Wolffe sits with you in your office, drinking caf and completing some joint paperwork.

“No responses from any of your friends yet?” He asks, he’s been trying not to ask every single day.

You shake your head sadly, “No”

“Not even to acknowledge the request or that they received the lab work?” He’s been more frustrated with this whole situation lately.

“A few did, most didn’t” you frown at the document you’re working on “It’s unlike them not to respond at all like that…. It gives me a bad feeling about all of this”

A gentle tap on the door stops him before he can respond, you look past him towards the door “Come in”

General Plo stands on the other side of the door when it slides open. “Good afternoon Captain” he address you “Commander” he nods to Wolffe.

“To what do I owe the pleasure General?” You ask, sitting up straighter and giving him a smile.

“Captain, might I have a word with you?” General Plo asks

“Of course, General” you look to Wolffe

“I’ll see you later” he nods to you “General” he nods, slipping out of your office and disappearing down the hall.

“What can I do for you General?” You ask, gesturing for him to take the seat across from you. He nods graciously and sits down.

“Over the last several weeks since your return I have noticed a difference in you. Forgive me, I do not mean to overstep into your jurisdiction as the team's medical lead, but are you feeling alright?”

“You would have to be blind to not see it” You admit “To be completely honest with you, I have not been feeling myself lately… and it scares me because I can’t determine what’s causing it”

“I assume you have run through an extensive list of conditions and illnesses”

You nod “And sent off my blood work, test results, and symptoms to several colleagues for other opinions. Haven’t gotten any responses yet”

“If you would be open to it, I spent many years in the halls of healing during my time as a Padawan. I am no doctor or medical professional by any means, but I can lead you through a meditation and try to delve deeper into the force to search for a possible cause or solution to your ailment”

“It couldn’t hurt… I would be honored General”

“Come” he rises and extends a hand to you, helping you stand from your chair. He leads you into the training room and uses the force to place mats down on the floor. You take a seat while he dims the lights in the training room. He joins you on the floor and begins to lead you through a breathing exercise to help you relax into a meditative state.

You’ve done meditations with General Plo many times, the breathing exercises and feeling of surrendering your mind to just be in the moment is familiar to you. Your body feels heavy. Like the ends of your extremities are weighed down with lead. It is so much effort to sit with proper posture that it exhausts you even just to sit. You hope that whatever General Plo can see or feel will be insightful or helpful in some way.

Plo senses the profound discomfort in your body, without even needing to delve into the force, he can see it in the way your shoulders sag and your normally bright features have grown dull in the last several months. He closes his eyes and reaches out into the void with his mind, open to whatever insight The Force may offer him.

He tunes himself into the sound of your breathing, the beating of your heart. And suddenly he can hear not just your heartbeat, but many. Hundreds, thousands of heartbeats, but they’re off time and slowing. He can see endless rows of crisp white linen sheets on sick beds. He can feel an acrid layer of sadness, anger, and loss clouding this vision. Death. He senses death, in insurmountable numbers. The future, or a possible future.

He pushes deeper into the vision, embracing its message and seeking answers to questions he has not yet formed. He knows you are sick, and now he knows that you are not the only one. He sees you collapse and Wolffe at your side to catch you. His heart clenches at the pulsing anger, frustration and pain he senses from Wolffe in this vision. He feels your fear, your sadness and regret. He watches the light fade from your eyes and suffering snap its jaws around Wolffe and the rest of the team.

Plo turns his focus away from that future and sees another path. He looks into this alternate vision, and feels the same anger, frustrations and pain, but instead of staying to the bitter end he senses something else. A choice. One that leads to a departure, separation, but not loss. Not yet. The choice to hold on or let go. But it is not you who has to make this terrible choice. It is not in your hands anymore. Your fate is in the hands of those who love you most.

As Plo relinquishes his concentration and comes back to the present moment, he takes an extra moment to look at you and acknowledge his own feelings on the situation. You have always been a good soldier, a good doctor, a good team member. General Plo cares about every one of his soldiers under his command, appreciates them for who they are, and cares about their well being. And there is nothing he can do to save you from what you are already enduring or what is coming. There is just as much chance that you will live and there is that you will die. What a painful truth to reckon with.

He opens his eyes and severs the connection, “You are not alone Captain” General Plo says

“I know” you sigh “I appreciate the support”

“No, I mean to say that you are not the only one suffering from this mysterious illness. Thousands are beginning to realize it, more will follow” he explains

“What?” Your heart drops into your stomach

“I believe that this is not a singular case. I believe something has caused this illness and has already affected more people across the galaxy. I must return to Coruscant and speak to the council. Together we may be able to learn more through group meditation” he says, getting to his feet and extending his hand in offerance to help you stand as well. You take it and slowly get yourself up right.

“General, thank you for doing this with me… but I have to ask, did you see something you aren’t telling me?”

Plo had no intention of telling you the specifics of what he saw, he has learned better than to rely on the certainty of visions.

You take his beat of silence as a ‘yes’ “Listen, if I’m going to die I would so much rather know”

“I do not know the answer to that” he squeezes your hand “But may I ask, if I knew for certain that you would die, what would you do differently than if you knew for certain that you would live?”

“I would go into my final moments with my friends knowing just that. That it was the end. I would savor it and make sure the memories were happy and fun, so they would remember me that way” you say “I would make sure the people I care about know that I love them”

“Have no fear on that Captain” he pats your hand “Your love for those who are dear to you is unmistakable”

He departs within the hour, taking a shuttle cruiser to Coruscant having already notified the council of his visions and concerns. To his surprise, he is not the only Jedi that has suspected something was amiss.

—

Meanwhile, Wolffe retreated to his office. He didn’t really have any work to do there, he just needed to be alone for a little while. He’s glad General Plo has stepped in, maybe now you would get some answers or at least have a place to start looking for answers as to why you’ve been feeling so weak and sick lately. He absent mindedly starts sketching shapes and shading while he mulls over his heavy feelings. He’d picked up the habit while you were gone.

He realized he had no holo images of you. As the days bled into weeks, and further into months he had longed to see your face. He spent many hours laying up at night thinking about the shape of your lips, the bridge of your nose, the line of your jaw. He agonized over the shape of your eyebrows. Eventually he started putting lines on paper, continuing in spare moments of time until he realized that he had essentially been unconsciously making portraits of you. Now he does it all the time, especially when he’s stressed. Like right now.

It’s been torture for him to watch. He thought being separated was the hardest thing he’s ever gone through, but this is so much worse. You’re here with him, but each day you seem to be less and less of yourself. He’s watching you waste away and there’s nothing he can do about it. He’s not a doctor or a Jedi, he’s not a General with authority to relieve you of military service so you can fully rest and recover. He would do anything to fix this, to save you.

A knock at the door breaks him out of this spiral, he quickly slips the notepad into the drawer of his desk and beckons the apparent intruder to come in. Instantly he regrets making his presence in his office known, because Roy strolls in with a smug look at a pile of paperwork.

“Ah, Commander Wolffe. I have a few matters I need to discuss with you” Roy closes the door behind him and sits down without invitation.

“Can it wait?” Wolffe glares at him as he sits

“No Commander, I believe that these matters are of the utmost importance and should be resolved immediately” Roy rifles through the papers, and places them on the desk in front of him.

Wolffe checks his chronometer, as if he actually had an appointment or somewhere to be, “You have three minutes” he relents.

Roy looks miffed at the minuscule time window he’s been given to make his case, but proceeds nonetheless “I have noticed that the Captain has been neglecting certain duties. Namely the reports pertaining to the annual health checks for all personnel in the legion, her obligations to be available for questions and contact as the senior medical officer. In addition to this she has made no effort to take on new mentorship opportunities or put in any recognition to the rest of medical staff's achievements. All of this leads me to believe that she has either grown lazy in her duties or become unfit to serve as lead medic. I insist that she be placed on probation until she can prove herself worthy of her station or removed from service altogether if she is truly incapable of doing her job.”

Wolffe sets his jaw and forces himself to hold his tongue, “Are you finished?”

“Yes, I think so” Roy says with a self satisfied look, and presses the stack of paperwork towards Wolffe

“Good. Listen very carefully” Wolffe says, standing up and leaning forward over the desk “She is your superior officer. Because she has put in the work and earned her place in the military and on this team. You are a spineless, selfish, arrogant worm and I have had enough of your self righteous demands for respect and valor you have not earned. Unfortunately, it is not within my power to have your transferred or discharged from the service, but I will be speaking to the Captain and General Plo about your insubordination”

Roy’s jaw hangs open and he blinks in surprise. Wolffe looks him up and down with a disdainful glare “If there’s nothing else, get back to work” Wolffe hisses, lowering himself back into his seat.

Roy’s shock evaporates and he returns the glare. The two of them sit in silence for a few moments, staring each other down. Finally Roy stands and exits the room. Wolffe shakes his head and scrubs a hand down his face in exasperation.

This can not continue. He knows there is almost no chance of getting him discharged or even reassigned, especially with you being unwell. He won’t say it. He can’t even think about it. If you have to be placed on leave because of this sickness… no. He will not let it come to that. He won’t lose you again. He holds you a little tighter while you sleep that night, no sense in telling you about the interaction with Roy, but still he held you close for his own sake. As if his mere presence could ward off all that seems to be plaguing you.

You didn’t hear from General Plo after he left for Coruscant. Irrationally you had hoped he could com within a day or two with news that he and the other Jedi used The Force and determined a cause that could be corrected. But no word came.

With each passing day the fog clouding you mind grew more dense, your energy sapped by the effort it took to move, to walk, to breathe, and then it all came to ahead. You were working in the med bay, no one was there who needed treatment, and you were on shift on your own with just a medical assistant droid.

One moment you were walking to put away some equipment and the next you were waking up on the floor. The medical droid trying to speak to you and some kind of alarm hazily blaring. It’s too much. The lights are too bright, the sound is too sharp, and you can’t find the strength to stand.

Wolffe drops everything when he receives the com that you’ve collapsed in the med bay. He drops everything and takes off sprinting down the halls with no regard for who sees or what they may think. Slush and Boost are right on his heels.

One look at you and Wolffe knows, this ship does not have the equipment or the staff to help you right now. Wolffe swallows hard and forces himself to breathe and stay calm.

“Boost, make contact with the nearest medical frigate and tell them we’re transferring a patient that needs intensive care” Wolffe orders

“Yes sir” Boost turns quickly and runs out of the med bay to make contact with the frigate

“Slush, prep the ship” Wolffe yanks Slush up by the arm and shoved him towards the door

“Yes sir” Slush backs out of the room, turns and runs too.

Wolffe is starting to feel bile creeping up into the back of his throat, like he wants to wretch. Panic. He can not panic. He turns to the droid

“Get her on the gurney, you will accompany us to the frigate” he says

“But sir, I am a —“ the droid begins to protest

“You are a medical droid. Your primary function is to treat wounded and sick soldiers. She is sick. Help me get her onto a gurney, now!” He snaps. The droid complies and helps move your comatose form onto a gurney. The droid puts you on oxygen and monitors your vitals.

Wolffe feels like he’s in a dream or a simulation. He walks with heavy and haunted steps as he guides the gurney down the halls and helps to load the ship. He barely recognizes his own voice when he tells Sinker

“You have command of the 104th until our return”

He doesn’t register anything Slush says to him, he just sits beside you as the ship takes off, and holds your limp hand.

It’s not until he realizes his com is buzzing from an incoming transmission that he is able to tear his focus away from you and the ringing in his ears. He takes a few steps away from you and answers the com. A holo image appears, of someone he did not expect.

“Rex?”

“Commander, where is she? Is she alright?” Rex asks, sounding frantic.

“She’s being transported to a medical frigate and we— hang on? How did you know something was wrong?” His mind is reeling

“They all are” Rex says gravely

“They? They who?”

“The doctors. The medics. The surgeons and nurses. Everyone that was reassigned to aid the wounded on Atraken” Rex explains

“What? What are you talking about?” Wolffe has to sit down. None of this is making any sense.

“All that left the base to go back to their normal assignments. They’re dropping like flies”

“Fuck….” At a loss for words “Fuck…. What-what’s wrong with them?”

“From what I’ve been hearing…. Organ failure… almost a hundred confirmed dead already” Rex can see Wolffe’s image on the holo, and sees his own fear and confusion reflected back at him.

“So…is it contagious? Is anyone else at risk?” Wolffe asks

“Not as far as we can tell. Just those directly exposed”

“What do we do? What can we do? We have to do something!” Wolffe’s heart is thundering in his chest, adrenaline with nowhere to go or do

“For now… get her to the frigate. And do not let the doctors give her any bacta. It’s accelerating the processes and killing them faster…” Rex says “General Skywalker is working on a plan, I’ll let you know when I have more information”

Wolffe nods vacantly. There is nothing he can do.

Tag List:

@maulslittlemeowmeow @lucyysthings @justanothersadperson93 @lackofhonor @paige6768 @thefact0rygirl @ttzamara @nekotaetae @jennrosefx @kashasenpai @littledragonlady @love-space-nerd

#Commander Wolffe #commander wolffe x reader #commander wolffe x you #Hiding In Plain Sight

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whumperfultime · 6 months ago

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June of Doom Day 12

@juneofdoom

Prompts: "I can't stand seeing you like this." | Dehydration | Grief | Coma

Contains: Bedside vigil, whumpee in coma, hospital setting, worry/guilt, mild dehydration, environmental whump, heat whump, heatstroke, and mention of kidnapping/captivity

It's hard for Kalei to care about her own physical needs when Dace is in a coma.

They had no way of knowing that the target was aligned with Fen. They didn’t know that his organization had spread to Ezanu or even into the neighboring solar system in the first place.

Not until Dace wound up captured.

Evidently the target was on Fen’s bad side and figured that handing over three of his rivals would mend the relationship. He only managed to grab Dace, snatching him up when he was casing the outside of the mansion they intended to rob. Kalei and Matago stayed behind onboard the ship, preparing some of their supplies for the job.

Neither of them knew much of what happened after that. Just that Dace was being held in an outbuilding on the property when they found him – some grimy, cramped garage. He could barely speak and whatever he said was the result of delirium. He couldn’t even stand on his own, forcing Matago to do most of the heavy lifting while they brought him to the transport parked behind the building.

Kalei knew heatstroke when she saw it.

Dace passed out on the drive to the nearest hospital. That was two and a half days ago and he still hadn’t woken up. The doctors told her that he was in a coma. Any longer in captivity – in a locked building amidst the desert heat, given little to no food or water – and he might be dead.

If it weren’t for the sounds and glowing screens of the machines monitoring him and keeping him alive, Kalei might have believed he was. He looked so small amongst the wires and tubes. All the strength and energy she knew him for suddenly gone, leaving a pale and too still body behind. She hoped that strength was still in there. That he would have enough to fight his way back to the surface.

Sleeping on the Azaphia probably would have been more comfortable, but Kalei couldn’t bring herself to leave. Not after he’d been alone in that place. Not when he still hadn’t woken up. She couldn’t sleep that much anyway, just relying on brief dozes curled up in the uncomfortable hospital chair.

A quick knock at the doorway jolted her out of her latest attempt at rest. Rather than one of the many doctors and nurses who came in to check up on him, it was Matago. He’d left a couple hours earlier to check on the Azaphia – it always felt risky to leave her unattended. Even more now that an interplanetary crime lord likely knew they were on Ezanu.

“Sorry to wake you,” Matago whispered. Then he caught himself, remembering that he didn’t have to be so quiet. That Dace wasn’t just sleeping and couldn’t be woken up so easily. “Any developments while I was gone?”

Kalei shook her head. “Same as always.”

Dace’s primary doctor seemed to be optimistic despite the lack of changes. She wasn’t sure if he was being genuine or just trying to keep their spirits up, but she clung to the sliver of hope anyway. At least his condition hadn’t worsened.

Matago pulled up a chair of his own, slinging his backpack onto the floor. “Guess he could use the extra beauty sleep.”

Normally Kalei would have shot him a glare for the ill-timed joke, but she knew it was one of the things he used to cope. (Besides, Dace would probably laugh if he heard it.) Instead, she hugged her knees to her chest and stared at Dace’s unchanging expression. She could feel Matago’s gaze lingering on her.

“How are you holding up?” he finally asked.

Kalei shrugged, trying to muster up the energy to give an actual response. “Mentally feel like shit. Also physically feel like shit.”

“When was the last time you ate?”

She couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Clearly she was not the one who should be warranting concern in this situation. “When we ate breakfast together this morning. You saw me.”

“What about the last time you drank?”

That was…admittedly harder for her to answer. “I had a few sips of tea then, too. Couldn’t finish it because the tea here is gross.”

“I meant water.”

Now she found herself avoiding looking at him altogether. “I don’t know,” she mumbled. “Sometime yesterday.”

“Oh for the love of-” Matago sighed, bending down and rustling through his bag. He retrieved a full plastic water bottle, slick with condensation after being removed from the Azaphia’s fridge, and shoved it in her direction. “I can’t stand seeing you like this. Drink, woman.”

“I’m fine.”

“You are clearly not. You are dehydrating as we speak.”

Kalei wanted to argue. To snap at him from taking the focus away from Dace, who was in actual danger, and putting it on her, the one who had just barely found him before he was too far gone to save. But the protest died in her throat…which was uncomfortably dry.

If she were being honest, she knew Matago was right. She recognized it overnight when she couldn’t sleep. Those quiet moments were when she allowed herself to cry over the situation, only last night it felt as if her body had no tears to give. Plus there were the times she got up to stretch her legs – Dace’s room in the ICU was cool, but in other parts of the hospital where she walked, the air conditioning did less to ease the desert heat. Which meant more sweat. And now that she was both awake and not spiralling over Dace’s condition, an evergrowing pain in her head finally registered.

She took the bottle without a word, too tired to argue anymore. Matago didn’t stop staring at her until she took her first sip…which turned to her chugging half the bottle once the cold water hit her tongue.

“That’s better,” said Matago, sitting back. “Just don’t drink so fast you get sick.”

Kalei managed a small smile. “You want me to hydrate or not? Make up your mind.”

“You know what I mean, you fucking smartass.”

She took another sip, feeling lighter if only for a moment.

Both of them turned their attention back to Dace…and found his eyes beginning to open.

#my writing #ocs: the crew #june of doom 2024 #coma #unconsciousness #bedside vigil #dehydration #hospital #heat whump #environmental whump #emotional whump #apparently matago embodies the mom friend more than he lets on #also once again medical accuracy? don't know her #pardon any typos - i handwrote most of this and typed it up later and i am allergic to editing/proofreading

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starfragment1979 · 3 months ago

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I had an appointment with my integrative health doc recently. She was the first doctor who actually believed me and took me seriously after I got sick with long covid four and a half years ago and she recommended some supplements, etc, that helped reduce some symptoms, which really meant a lot to me at the time. And so I want to like her still, despite increasing evidence to the contrary. But after this last appointment she:

1.) Took more than two weeks to write up her after-visit summary and to make the following useless suggestions.

2.) Recommended for the second time the Gupta program, aka brain retaining, aka happythinking your way out of a multisystemic physical illness, aka pretending you're not sick with the idea that your body will catch on and magically become Not Sick. Which is at best harmless apart from breeding false hope and at worst legit harmful because pushing yourself beyond your limits will cause a crash that could permanently lower your baseline. Brain retaining programs are 100% just a predatory, money-making scam.

3.) Offered to refer me out to the Mayo clinic's ME/CFS program. But the Mayo clinic has the worst reputation among chronically ill folks. Go peruse any long covid or ME/CFS forum, and nobody's having a good time at the Mayo clinic. What's more, the Mayo clinic is like a three or four hour drive away. When I went in for my mammogram earlier this year (a ten minute, low stress appointment) I crashed for two weeks after; when I went in for my yearly physical (a longer, more stressful appointment) I crashed for two months and lowered my baseline. A trip to Mayo would wreck me. And she knows this.

4.) Sent me a link to a 50 page PDF about the possible root causes of long covid, which she admitted she herself hasn't fully read. And I sure as hell don't have the brain power to read a fifty page medical document. But she said feel free to ask her any questions about it anyway, because I guess I'm just DIYing my own healthcare?

All my appointments with her for like the past two years have been similarly useless. And yet she remains the only doctor that has shown any interest at all in listening and helping, and she's the one who writes my LDN script, so I guess I just keep crossing my fingers that one of these times it'll be better?

#long covid #me/cfs #chronic illness #medical incompetence #sick of this shit

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skadream · 7 months ago

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happy ummm 8th month on t? (9th if i were actually on t continuously but i ran out for a month that one time) i used to do monthly t updates on tiktok but i dont rlly feel like doing that rn so i'll yap about it here (its actually wild how little stuff i have about my transition on my tumblr generally speaking? as if this isnt the website that transed my gender in the first place)

it really is hard to notice such gradual changes from month to month, especially if its just me lookin at myself, compared to seeing a doctor in person which, i am getting rx'd T thru telehealth currently as my nearest planned parenthood or even a neighboring one does not actually do gender affirming care which is. insane and whack. esp when i do live in a pretty populated county maybe second or third to nyc and albany area. and i have to call in to a pp THREE HOURS BY TRANSIT from me. but like, its been working for now ok!

mentally and emotionally ive been very up and down overall but i think thats largely due to my medication changes rather than hormones. ALTHOUGH. when i ran out for a month in november and my period came back... dude it was so horrible like genuinely the worst period of my life. its one of those things where i didnt realize just how dysphoric something could make me feel until i had a taste of being able to alleviate said dysphoria. so mentally speaking testosterone is probably pulling the mental train even more than the wellbutrin lol. and im trying not to account too much for circumstance/environment cuz like OBVIOUSLY if things were going smoothly for me there a lot of my emotional issues would be at least somewhat relieved, but im working with what i got.

physically, since starting t in july i have lost weight. at first i was very scared it was my medication, and i think a part of it was at least a little, like two of my meds can cause some weight loss, but i am no longer losing weight in a concerning way but just yknow the regular amount of daily fluctuation. so i do think a lot of my weight loss was due to hormones just shifting around my fat and all that, or something idk lol. everyones so diff with hormones, i know some trans guys gain weight on t and not necessarily from muscle training, i know girls on e who have lost weight without any changes to diet or exercise, it really depends so as always, this is just my experience etc etc

i do have more facial hair but its still quite patchy, i think i might start filling in my stache tho. with my shitty goatee, its not my fav so i shave it off when im not just sitting inside all day, but also idk it makes my chin feel less. round. or smth. i do always think of my one friend telling me ill look like the lead singer of a nü metal band and honestly maybe i should start giving that energy more anyway! embrace goatee lifestyle!

oh yeah my voice dropped in like the first two months and has gotten deeper since, and on timtom i talked a lot about wanting to maintain the vocal range i had pre-t? i dont think thats fully possible like i think the highest notes i used to reach are just inaccessible to me, but i think if i did some like vocal singing warmups i can get back up to reach those higher notes. in retrospect the way ive sung my whole life has actually prob been destructive on my voice, partly from lack of proper training and partly intentionally trying to sound deeper and more gravelly, but now that i can access deeper sounds more naturally i really do wanna work on singing in a better way where i can reach some of those notes.

overall yea im liking whats happening so far, i do wish it was happening faster but i understand that some people dont get the progress ive gotten for like, YEARS, and new progressions will be happening to me for years after today. if you think about "real" puberty, it is a gradual shift its not like you suddenly grow a chest as soon as you Bleed or whatever its different for literally every person and since im the only one in my family that i know of who has done this, im kind of a guinea pig. but like im okay with that! anyway yeah really recommrnd testosterone if u want it i like it :)

#arcyaps

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emcant · 1 year ago

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Really sick reason to be happy but I can't stop smiling

TW/CW child abuse, mental illness, SH

One of my aunts calls our family "yours, mine, and ours", which is accurate. We've got me, my (step)brother, my dad, my stepmom, and my (half)sister. My brother is seven weeks younger than I am. Our parents got together when we were around four- "work spouses" who were both recently divorced- and our little sister came a few years later.

My bio mom and my brother's bio dad are a mess, somewhere between incapable and unwilling to parent full time. I've been in therapy off and on for most of my life and got my C-PTSD diagnosis at 15. My brother, god love him, just reached his first year of sobriety, having started drinking around the same age.

Naturally, every time we had a chance to say "This isn't normal" to our shared folks, we'd be told "Well of course you'd think that, you're used to your other parent!". The other person was a shovel used for digs: "This isn't their house!". They'd call me by my mom's name when I made them upset.

I assumed I was broken either because of my mom or because of the split. I can't know for certain, of course, but I think the cause of the C-PTSD was specifically that they traded custody daily, at my mom's request, until she moved out of state. She gives the silent treatment. My stepmom screams. The rules changed on me literally every 24 hours until I was 13.

Life evened out a lot when she did move away - but not entirely. I wound up in screamland 90% of the time rather than 50. I couldn't figure out why it didn't feel right or why it kept happening to me, but I believed my folks: I wasn't used to it because my mom's "parenting" is different and worse. I felt sickened to be involved with my mom at all. I thought that if only she wasn't waiting in the wings, I'd be entitled to a normal childhood, but because of her influence, I deserved everything I got.

Anyway, I have been texting my little sister about Christmas gifts for our brother, and out of nowhere, earlier this week, she tells me she's going to therapy for the first time... because she's realized it's not normal for your mom to scream at you literally all day and your dad to not intervene.

I haven't been home for more than three days since I moved out over a decade ago. I had a chance to pass through the town earlier this year, didn't do it, and still had panic attacks for two weeks straight. I can't hack it as someone's daughter; it makes me physically sick.

But that isn't a me problem.

Not a one of them could hack it as parents.

I've stopped hearing my mother's doubts in my head - I cut her off when I moved away. I've never been quite able to shut off my stepmom's. The screamer versus the silence... it fits.

I'm not a poser if I can't create when I don't have a comfortable space to work. I should not self-reject because I'm frightened. In the absence of an abuser, I'm finding that holding ideas in also hurts a lot.

I'm not stupid or useless or gearing up to be a failure for needing the introvert rest period and knowing my limits. It will not hold me back in life.

It isn't normal to want to hurt yourself. It isn't normal for people to laugh it off and talk about themselves when you tell them you want to hurt yourself.

The mandatory insincerity I grew up around has thankfully faded a lot - I don't think I could summarize that anymore if I tried.

I'm heartbroken that my little sister is going to need to learn these things - but ecstatic that she will, and is actively moving towards it. Had a similar conversation with our brother a few years ago, but of course, he has his dad in the wings; it hits differently now knowing that it would have happened no matter what. Children in that home are screamed at, hit, and not defended. Simple as.

I'm not what they wanted me to be.

I'd say that's "fine" but that doesn't even begin to cover it. It's exemplary.

#em can #farther beyond that #em will #cw sh mention #cw mom mention #cw child abuse #tw verbal abuse #tw mommy issues #tw sh implied

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strigital · 1 year ago

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hey there, handsome beans. how are y'all?

bet y'all were wondering where tf Meg's gone again. to make long and complicated story short: a few physical illnesses followed by a severe mental crysis followed by more sickness followed by more mental problems. there was, among other things, an autistic breakdown which as we know doesn't go away easily. i will be severely honest with you guys. i do not know how i am still alive, given how horribly suicidal some of these days are. i suppose having pets does make a difference - no matter how selfish the suicidal ideation is it never manages to overpower the motherly need to love and protect these small creatures that so wholly depend on you not just for food, water and shelter, but for companionship as well… Belle, despite having only been out of shelter for like three moths, has been working her little butt off trying her damnest to convince me that i am needed: from following me everywhere like a shadow to crying like a child whenever there's a closed door between us… anyways, what was i talking about? ah yes… the horrific state both my mind a body ended up in. i honestly have no idea where this all came from. it was like one day it was sunny and calm and the next morning i woke up in the aftermath of a severe hurricane, ruin and corpses all around me. perhaps it was all brewing for a long time and i simply failed to notice the telltale signs. after all, there's no smoke without fire. there must've been a trigger. a final drop, a straw that broke the camel's back. sometimes it felt like a horror film, full of terrible thoughts and feelings that paralise you in a fetal position in the corner of your bed and keep you there hostage for days on end. some other days there would be flashes of unexplainable happiness that lasted barely a few hours and left you feeling panicked. most days there would be this prevailing feeling of numbness that wouldn't allow you to eat, let alone take care of daily chores. i've been having severe nightmares. i've plunged my body into a state of starvation. i've turned my home into a horror house of dirt and clutter. i'm failing behind in college and my boss at work is extremely unhappy with my productivity. i've lost ability to feel time: days muddle together, all i ever feel is a desire to sleep all the fucking time.

worst of all is that i cut contact with my closest people, among them - my dearly beloved husband, who still fights cancer on the other side of the planet, wondering where his useless wife gone. i've decided that it would be better for all of them, especially my hubby, to not see me in this condition. that the best i can do for them is to remove myself from their already busy lives and free them from any heartache i may cause, me being out of my mind and all. i did, however, used the very last of my strenght to reach out, to try and call for help… the suicide prevention line was a fucking joke that left me even more desperate than i was before i contacted them. i did, however, join a local autistic group on facebook and lurked there quietly, absorbing their experiences and sifting through for any sliver of hope. and i foud it. a doctor, who may just be the only specialist on adult autism in this entire country. getting an appointment with her was a small war in of itself. and she will cost me a lot of money… but as of right now i feel like she is the only person who can pull me off of the edge, before i tumble over and plummet into the abbyss. 29th of november i will sit my ass on a train and ride to another city to meet her. i pray to whatever will listen that she will take me seriously because neither my current psychiatrist nor my psychologist do. anyone i tried talking to these past two months on the matter of my crisis never offered me any help, only useless advice like "you should talk to a priest" or "have you tried reading a self-help book?". i'm drowning over here, karen, a priest and a book will only be of use during my funeral… the meds have become useless, even when i double or triple dosage.

most of all my heart aches for my husband. he tried calling me a few times yet i was too broken and lost in the dark to even have the courage to call back. i know i have no right to scream for help to a person who had been at war with a third stage cancer for almost three long difficult years. but i am teethering on the edge. i feel like that tiny hedghehog from an old soviet cartoon - lost in a thick fog, calling out for someone, anyone, looking for a way out. and the fact that no one understands or tries to understand hurts even more. the only one's who do are those anonymous people on facebook, fighting similar battles to mine. and when i read a letter from an anonymous mom who, like me, reached her breaking point and cut off any contact with her family in preparation for a final act and she only writes on facebook to find someone, anyone, to tell her what she truly needs and wants to hear in order to swerve off of this path of self-destruction i cannot help but feel an odd likeness to hope. i am not alone. but these people, those like me, simply do not exist within an arm's reach… god almighty, i so so hope the doctor will fix me. i am so tired waking up everyday with a desperate desire to die and walking all day with an invisible noose on my neck which only grows tighter every day.

i will go now and try to record a longwinded voice message for my husband… again. i will try my bestest to apologise, to try to explain, to ask for help. but how do you even begin to explain that your life so suddenly, so abruptly and seemingly our of nowhere became an open bleeding rotten sore, that only grows everyday, infecting more and more of your soul? i don't know. i never had this kind of crisis before in my life and, as if by some cruel divine joke, right now i have no family, no friends to turn to, beside my cat and my dog.

i will not ask of you to pray for me nor wish me luck. y'all have your own busy, messy lives. i only ask that you take care of yourself and your loved ones, so nothing like that ever happens to you or them. trust me when i say that no one will believe you, because this wound is invisible. they will tell you to feel grateful for having two arms and two legs and a roof over your head. meanwhile you will slowly rot away until one day they'll gasp: "how did this happen? they were such a happy person, nothing was wrong in their lives!" that's so fucking unfair, but it is the world we live in. and i know that oversharing like this on the internet is an incredibly stupid thing to do, but… i don't know. maybe another person with similar hardships in their life will read this and realise that they are not the black sheep of the human species and that shit like that happens to others too. i know this thought brings some very mild comfort to me, so maybe it will also brings some to them.

so stay strong, my beans. god knows i'm trying to. love you all and, hopefully, see you in the near future again with memes and stuff,

-- Meg K.

#personal #update #autism

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mwahmichelle · 1 year ago

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🎀 goals i have before 2024 🎀

these goals aren’t necessarily things i want to achieve / be able to do by then. just things i want to get into the habit of doing :)

physical goals

1. go to the gym three times a week

im kinda cheating with this one cus i already do this, but i want to be more productive (?) when i go. i also want to set a plan for those three days so i dont do random exercises. (eg arm day: 10 sets of _ exercise, ect.)

2. stretch and use the massagers every evening

my parents recently bought a foot massage machine, a hand massage machine and a neck massage machine. i used them for around two weeks before i stopped lol. i did notice a difference in how much pain and stiffness i was feeling throughout the day, so i want to start using them again, as well as using their back roller and leg bands to help me stretch.

3. walk my sisters dog four to five times a week

walking her dog was so difficult in the summer because of the heat, so hopefully it’ll be easier now that the weather is cooling down :,) its unrealistic to say that ill walk her (the dog)) every night, so ill stick to a minimum of four days :)

study and work goals

1. work every day

sigh. i have a schedule where i work ~30-60 minutes every day, and 8 hours once a week. sounds easy. and it is. i just have problems with discipline, so i’ve been skipping a few days 🤥 that is not good, so i need to focus >:(

2. do homework the day its assigned 🗣️🗣️

in the past, i did all sorts of mental gymnastics to convince myself to do my homework the day before the lesson, but i end up just not doing it 💀 my teachers get pretty worked up about it, as does my mother lol. rightfully so tbh.

3. study ⁉️

i adore studying, so why am i not studying 🤨 makes no sense 🥱 lets get to it, mkay??

self improvement goals

1. self care sunday (morning…)

i have classes every sunday afternoon, but they’re pretty chill, pretty enjoyable :) the main issue with self care sunday, is that most of the time, i dont do enough during the week to deserve them lmfao. its like every day is self care day 🫠

2. explore the city twice a month

i moved to a new city back in february, and still don’t know anyone or anything abt it 😧 i need (!!) to get out more. like, no joke. with my busy schedule, twice a month is the least i can guarantee. its more than i’ve done the past 8 months 🤷🏼‍♀️

3. read and meditate every evening

this one should be easy, but alas. i’ve never been able to meditate, and reading every evening is difficult when u don’t have any books 😺 i shall try my best anyways…

yuh these are my goals ✨

i tried to make them achievable, so no excuses 😠

#take a shot for every time i wrote ‘so��#becoming that girl #goals #studyblr

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madafact · 1 year ago

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nope

ill try to be concise and add as much detail as possible

sometimes writing can be a cover to a book that is about to be written, read, burned, or put down

my brother anthony john masters died on june 10th or 11th i cant remember, the days post have zero anchors or even dates. mostly just a sense of disbelief, and the need to still have to put on clothes, smile and get hair cuts and shit, ya know life bullshit, the stuff that doesnt fucking matter after you lose what you really have in this odd plain we occupy.

my first notice was a photo of his beautiful body being held captive by a hospital bed and three not even complete sentences,

"bicycle accident. head trauma. will be in for seven days"

this was sent by my most eloquent father, who will not hesitate to mention he is a writer who has a vocabulary that could sink the titanic.

how we communicate, to me, shows me the level of respect, admiration, reverence and connection you feel to someone. Ill let you connect those dots. but i will give you a hint at the ending, anthony died. and all the anger, disrespect, lack of trust was the missing words in the first transmission. i think ive said it before but my father does not like me nor does it seem he has any interest in knowing who i am. but this isnt about me

anthony was conscious for the first few days and the prognosis was picking up like the wind. the sun seemed to be parting the clouds and what seemed like just another 'slam at the park' was going to be in the rearview mirror. but ya know, another front moved in on it began to rain.

i have been well informed just how prickly of a cactus new york city can be, and if you dont respect the idea, then you become the grease that turn the wheels of incompetence. it seems incompetent doctors, nurses and medical staff cut anthonys life short. more on that later.

i arrived at the hospital to late to see my brother still squirming in this world and he let me know just what he thought of my tardiness. im trying to open the ICU doors (which open not by handle, but by button, and once initiated, do not stop not even for a 500 lb gorilla. my welter weight body was absolutely brushed aside, sat on my ass with a broken nose and blood, thanks ant, you loved a good board to the face or some shit like that.

anyway he was gone, his body was warm, in a failed attempt i tried to climb into his bed and kinda just spread over him like butter, backside stil moist from his path through life. i touched his chest, kissed his forehead, held his hands examined his post humous face, and went as far as to cut lochs of his beautiful hair for safe keeping, for as many years as i have left. he truly was a beautifully built creature, tats and all, scars, broken bones, off set nose and all. but when i got there, all that started its slow process of fading slowly, then quickly, and soon into ash.

even having him in my arms wouldnt let reality in. shock will be my blanket for the coming winter and it looks to be particulary brisk this season. it still hasnt set in. even after gallons of tears, thousands of racing thoughts, a landscape of sweaty palms and not much rest or fuel. its starting to take a toll. i showed up to a memorial for him a day early today. cold sores are tilling my lips and a general sense of seeking shelter on a partiulary blustery day is my commute to work these days.

the lochs of hair were for me but ya know, as soon as people see you getting something, they want it too. it wasnt supposed to be for everybody, its supposed to be for the ones who seized the opportunity. me.

but ya know find grace and share. even though...what ever.

i maybe spent 40 minutes to an hour with his physical form before the next step had to begin. the state makes money on beds, and once you dead, you out da bed. he was just another stat, another pair of pants to check for loose change and maybe an unspent bill or two. and they wanted us out to begin the search.

fuck the state, and those who tow its nets across the ocean floor decimating everything in its path to catch a few prizes and waste a whole host more souls.

fuck new york

fuck california

fuck me

so i guess thats the end of the experience, but it is only the beginning of the angelification of my brother. the people he affected, the tone (for lack of a better word) he set, the wake he created and the stories that will outlive him.

his chosen family was a mega group of friends made around the college years, fostered across both coasts and eventually planted in bay shore or point pleasant new jersey. a wonderful family of young and old. similiar age and even multiple species. but little was i aware, this was only a small portion of the spiders web. he had been very busy spinning intricate patterns that in the morning light and dew would mesmorize people. moths to flame but this was a bit more of like a cozy fire or even perfect coals to prepare food over.

california, new jersey, new york, mexico city, colorado, oregon, washington, and im probably forgetting a whole host, or just havent found out about the other places. multiple ceremonies were held for him, and are still being planned for future dates, future surf trips, future joy and happiness.

he truly went after being part of peoples love for life. he was a one way street to positive town. it took many forms, tropical mental attitude, tony masters association, boistrous, gregarious, know only for hug not handshakes.

the ceremony we held in the immediate day after was located in new jersy at the beach with more surfboards and beach toys than the coast could imagine. we were even granted passed past the usual, permits, rules etc. for a day, anthony has the bay head cops in his pocket and they nodded to his celebration while many local people looked around in an unusual jealous disbelief.

the waves were not typical for the time of year, the wind stayed the right direction, the sun shined ALL fucking day. all ages caught waves and hooted for each other. anthony was fully on display as his new angelic form. tending to the elements, playing jovial pranks and keeing safe passage for all. just like he always dreamed of. he had arrived. he had become that all powerful, undenieable indescribeable wonderful dream. the light was so bright i imagine. he must have felt the warmth. after all it is a very bright light that we must walk into.

im not even two days into the i think day 5 nightmare/ endless bummer that has no signs of slowing, callousing or even seeming at all acceptable. please help me find acceptance anthony. what happened to you was unacceptable but if your reward is the infinite, cheers dude

i think ill have to do this post based on emotional resources, because as i get to this point, crying in a coffee shop wearing sunglasses trying to stay low key. its not working. the sniffles are giving me away and my coffee cannot be sipped in a unrippled fashion. the hands tremble and my backspace button is just getting a workout.

so please forgive me as i collect myself, my thoughts, and look to the sky for the strength to even find reason to keep my foundation built by me, for myself to not come crashing down.

the crescendo continues..

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madisonrooney · 2 years ago

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been getting more and more emotionally and socially drained by work. ik people on here joke a lot about like “i hate being perceived and seen and known” and all that but i honestly have felt that way a lot of my life, and when you work in retail, youre constantly in view and being watched yknow?

sure i went to school for a big chunk of my life but at least in college when the mental illness really started fleshing out, i could just hide in the back of the class on my computer and an entire semester would go by without my classmates learning pretty much anything about me. now its not only customers but coworkers, youll say some embarrassing shit, which isnt uncommon when youre there as many hours as you are since you start to get rambly, and you cant just shrug it off bc guess what youll see them again tomorrow and the next day and the next day...

ive already had to leave early bc of panic attacks on two different occasions. ive already cried while out on the floor. ive already cried in front of multiple leads and managers. and again, you have to face them again and god its humiliating.

i just constantly find myself needing time in complete isolation and silence to recuperate, but not having much of it. typically, i only have 2-3 hours after i get home to do anything before i go to bed, and it usually takes me that much time just to catch up on my social media. even if i forgo that for a night, with my attention span, i still cant get much of anything done.

plus im typically busy on any and all of my days off

i just. would really love to have like a week where i just do not have to be seen by a single other person, or at least my public outings can be anonymous like shopping or something. i feel my best on days like that. during quarantine, i honestly had no problem not seeing anyone else besides my parents for more than a year. if anything, i got sick of my parents lol. id spend months on end on my own and dont remember having much of a problem at all with it. sure, id want to remotely hang out with friends, but that would feel more comfortable bc i didnt necesarilly have to be on camera and i could end it whenever i wanted to. i remember going 13 days without setting foot out of my front door and i honestly loved it.

anyway im getting off topic. going back to the matter at hand, i guess my brain is just trained to think that im gonna get a “summer break” at some point but i wont. i feel like i need something like that but idk if i can get it. even if i had my own events going on, it would be nice to have a few days in between where i just had nothing going on, which is what my summers used to be like.

bottom line is this doesnt have to do with my job specifically, its just jobs like this in general. i think in serious enough cases, im good at not just taking what i get but getting what i want out of a situation and i would say thats the case here. im not complaining bc i should have a different job and just dont feel like getting one, im complaining bc capitalism is just inherently like this. my job checks all the main boxes for me: i get pretty much all the days off that i want, the hours are late so it works with my whack sleep schedule, and its not a creative job where theres work to take home, it ends at a certain hour and then you dont have to think about it until you come back, which is p much necessary for my ocd. anything beyond those three factors matters much less. so yah, its the best i can get all things considered, but it still has its issues.

the one potential thing that could get me less social interaction would be training to work in the back, but i mean id still have to socialize with coworkers, plus ive heard you kinda make your own schedule back there so haha thats a no go for my ocd. it also seems too physical for me.

#ramble a rooney #i try not to post work rants here but eh #this is like 99% for personal use but might as well post if anyone cares #retail life

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chimivx · 2 years ago

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expecting, expected. // myg.

pairing: Idol!Yoongi x Female!Reader, and ot7 { couple from vegas, baby }

summary: Exhaustion, anxiety, hormones... This is life now, for the next nine months... And it's time to tell your friends!

words: 6k

warnings: fluffy (lol), mentions of sex, suggestive conversation, jikook warning, drinking, grown adults out for dinner and interacting, If I missed anything PLEASE LET ME KNOW.

a/n: HI! You already know what I'm posting. VEGAS SERIES ADDITION! I'm unsure how I feel about this one... Fell in love with it, but now... I dunno. I hope you ENJOY IT if you read it! I'm in need of more fluffy dad!Yoongi so be prepared, more of that will be coming. I'm never letting this series go.

{ find the vegas, series here to get to know this couple some more }

Tucked beneath a blanket, curled up in a ball on Yoongi’s lap watching the new episode of Run BTS, you were fighting to keep your eyes open, doing the slow blink. Running his fingers through your hair, dragging his fingernails soothingly over your scalp, it was as if Yoongi was actively trying to get you to fall asleep. That’s all you’ve been able to do for the past two weeks anyway, and it didn’t matter where you were, you were dozing off at random.

Shortly after the Golden Disc Awards, and that blur of a day, you were scheduled to see a doctor where the news you knew to be true was confirmed. Yoongi stood by your side watching attentively as the doctors did bloodwork, spoke with you about your symptoms, and gave you a long list of do’s and don'ts for you to follow for the next nine months after they showed the two of you that you were definitely pregnant.

This early on it wasn’t necessary for you to see a doctor yet, considering your age and your health, however Yoongi let his worry’s slip to a director, one of the higher ups that had most of the power. Keeping the entire situation on the down low, it was decided you’d be treated as if you were an Idol yourself, being ushered into the office almost against your will, a place where you’d get the most prompt, unconditional care throughout your pregnancy.

You didn’t expect anything less from Yoongi. That morning, holding onto his hand, his other was wrapped around you protectively wherever you went. You knew he would go overboard. Your dark haired, still in physical therapy boyfriend found a new hobby- waiting on you hand and foot, like he wasn’t the star of the household. None of that even mattered in your rapport anyway, you were the star of his life.

After the awards, once the two of you were back home and cuddled underneath the safety of your bed covers, nearly nose to nose, you took turns speaking into the early hours of the morning. Initial shock had subsided, and you were both able to actively listen to one another, and think rationally. Yoongi expressed his excitement, telling you how he dreams of this, wanting to do it all with you, only if you wanted it too.

When the sun had risen and the time was checked, laughter was shared along with a reassuring kiss.

Meeting Yoongi at twenty two, you were young, still at the beginning of your life. Barely out of college, you didn’t have a clue if you ever wanted to have children, the thought rarely crossed your mind. For a while it was full of, how am I going to pay for my next meal, before it did a complete one eighty, turning into, what city are we flying to next? You were jet-set for six years until the global shutdown of the year 2020.

Now, age twenty eight, with seven years of a relationship down, living with the man who knew you better than anyone else, and loved you three times as much… Things had shifted. A universal halt wasn’t expected because of a new rampant illness in the world, and though it came with extreme measures, it was exactly what you and Yoongi needed. It gave you time to grow up a little bit, your subconscious doing most of that work.

During the hours and hours of whispering like two people with a secret, the work done in the shadows was unveiled, sparking the realization that you did in fact want this. You were ready for the next step of life with the man you loved.

“Oh, you’re out,” You hear Yoongi speak quietly to himself, feeling him shift beneath you a bit. With closed eyes, you roll over to face his torso and sigh, wrapping an arm around his waist, weaseling it between his back and the couch cushion.

“Not out,” You barely whisper. Yoongi looks down at your sleepy face with a smile, putting a hand back into your hair, stroking it with care.

“You missed the rest of the episode,” He says, “You started snoring before they even split into teams.”

“No… I didn’t,” You mumble, “I saw.”

“Who won?” He perks an eyebrow, finding it amusing you were laying here lying to him in real time.

Without missing a beat you whisper, “Jungkook,” And he starts to laugh, resting his head back on the couch.

Both teams had won actually, they made some incredible food. Yoongi was content with you on his lap, and hungry. He debated telling you the truth, but figured you’d want to rewatch it later when you had some more energy, so he kept the answer to himself. This was the second time you tried to watch it, you fell asleep during the premiere of it last night, curling up under his arm in bed.

Letting you rest, Yoongi picks up his phone to check his messages. There were plans set for later today with the guys, and Sunny was joining as well, flying in from a job to visit. The nine of you were meeting for dinner at a cozy, quiet spot where you would be able to share the news of your pregnancy with your family. Though two of them were told two weeks ago, they kept their mouths shut, which was utterly impressive.

The seven boys were interviewed the night of the Golden Disc Awards, and there was a moment of panic that something would slip, at least to more of the boys. The interviewer had them share New Years wishes with each other, sending it to the boy to their right. Jin, the unlucky bastard, was stood next to Yoongi and had to watch his mouth.

There was so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to share, he found out moments ago that his best friend was going to be a father. This new year was huge for Yoongi, one he’s dreamed of, and Jin wanted to shout his happiness from the rooftops.

Loving someone as much as Jin loved Yoongi, and watching that person go through hardship after hardship finally find their reason for living, their reason for true happiness… That’s a feeling that can’t be explained.

So, opting for awkward laughter and the introverted persona of Jin, he shared his well wishes with Yoongi carefully, taking his time, making sure it was simple. Yoongi listened anxiously, beckoning him with his eyes pointed to the floor to keep it quick, but took his brother's words to heart, recognizing and understanding every underlying meaning behind the short message.

Looking through his phone now, he has two unread messages from Jin that he swipes by, deciding to open them after he reaches out to Sunny. Tapping on her thread, he chuckles at the last picture he sent- you sitting on the bathroom floor in just a t-shirt, glaring at the camera, flashing him a middle finger. It was from a couple of days ago when you were physically unable to be in any other room, because the moment you stepped off the tile, you were overcome by nausea and yanked back in front of the toilet.

Thankfully that period of time didn’t last too long. Now you’re going through an energy depletion, the tiny little group of cells inside of you stealing it all soon after you try to recharge.

Sunny, who was now working select dates with a couple Kardashians, was oblivious, and didn’t think anything strange of the picture. She sent a heart in reply, and went on her merry way through Los Angeles, shaking salads with Kourtney.

[yoongi]: ETA?

Yoongi sends to your best friend, watching the screen as bubbles pop up in an instant.

[Sunita Sunshine]: Landed about a half hour ago!!! I’m in an Uber…… meeting Jin for drinks before we come see you guys

[Sunita Sunshine]: How’s lover girl feeling??? Any better?

Yoongi’s heart just about flies out of his chest. He types back to her with lightning speed.

[yoongi]: She’s great… Why?

[Sunita Sunshine]: She was sick right??? Before golden discs until like a couple days ago….. I talked to her

He sighs, letting his eyes shut for a second, completely forgetting the two of you, though in different parts of the world most times, still shared everything with each other.

[yoongi]: Right. Yeah she’s good now, she can't wait to see you

Tilting his head to the side, he peeks down at you from behind his phone screen. Eyes closed, lips parted slightly, taking in slow deep breaths, you sure seemed ecstatic to be having dinner with the best friend you haven’t seen in a couple of months.

The iPhone in Yoongi’s hand starts to buzz dramatically. He’s had his ringer turned off for a few days since these bouts of narcolepsy were at random. A facetime was coming in from Jungkook, another member of his group that had the pleasure of knowing your secret. You couldn’t help yourself, when he flashed you a wholesome smile and your emotional state was overcome by comfort, you let it slip.

“Hey, man,” Yoongi answers, keeping his voice quiet. He clicks the volume down a few notches, watching the screen as it’s pointed at the cloudy, grey, January sky. “Are you outside?”

“Hey, yeah,” Jungkook says, finally appearing inside the box wearing a black bucket hat over his bleach blonde hair, “I’m about to walk into Jimin’s, I just left the studio,” Yoongi can hear the smacking of his stompers on the concrete, “They, uh, they want to do my hair purple for Butter.”

“Oh no,” Yoongi mutters as Jungkook glances away for a second to somewhere ahead of him, and smiles. His eyes crinkled in the corners.

“Did I just hear you say they want your hair purple?” Jimin can be heard off screen. It goes black for a second, Yoongi can hear muffled voices, then the top of Jungkook’s head appears again.

“Yeah, purple,” Jungkook sighs.

“Thought you wanted it blue, maybe?” The end of Jimin’s sentence sounded like he said the word, baby, instead of, maybe, but maybe Yoongi’s brain was overridden by nerves for this evening, making him hear things. The two step into Jimin’s home, Yoongi just along for the ride as they converse about this dire hair matter.

“Uh,” He gets their attention back and points the phone down to you. Jimin coo’s, peering at the screen with a pouty lip. “Can this be discussed tonight? Why was I called?” Yoongi chuckles, bringing the camera focus back to himself. Jungkook cringes, like he suddenly remembered your condition.

“Sorry,” He says, “She wasn’t answering, thought it meant Sunny was there, I need to talk to her about it.”

“You’ll see her tonight,” Yoongi says, “She’s getting drinks with Jin right now.”

“Jin?!” Jimin exclaims, grabbing the phone from Jungkook’s hands, “That woman wanted to see ME!” The diva was shushed by both Yoongi and Jungkook, the youngest snatching his phone back from his tiny hands.

“I’ll see you later,” Jungkook says to Yoongi before he glances up to Jimin, “I don’t want purple hai-” And the phone hangs up, trilling a sad little tune, announcing the end of the call.

“His TinyTan has dark hair, D, I swear, if I have to create one for Butter, and I’m told to match whatever color they give him, Army will rip me to shreds if the shade isn’t right,” You say, startling your boyfriend the slightest, “Remember the pink hair? I didn’t sleep.” Opening your eyes, you look up at Yoongi who is gazing back with a small smile. Placing his phone aside, he shakes his head.

“You won’t be doing anything, you’re taking time off from work,” He says, keeping his tone soft, “No more sleepless nights and caffeine highs.” Rolling your eyes, you huff.

“Yeah, that’s for after September,” You whisper, though you were unsure when your baby would be arriving. It takes him a couple of seconds to catch what you said, both of you laughing once he does.

Sitting up, you situate yourself beside him and smile, saying, “Dream ON is doing really well.”

“Why are you checking stats?” Yoongi disciplines, sliding an arm around your shoulders.

“I have to stay busy,” You shrug, “TinyTan was my entire year last year, do you know how many ideas I have? I already have something for Dynamite on paper, even though no one’s asked me to do it.”

“I don’t want you to stress yourself out, there’s no reason to rush. You need rest.”

“No, I need them out of the Mic Drop outfits, it’s been years since that came out, I don’t know what I was thinking,” You shake your head before laying it on his shoulder. It was a tad sore today, but Yoongi didn’t mention it. He needed you to be comfortable, he wasn’t worried about himself at all.

Planting a kiss to the top of your head, he keeps his head there, lifting the hand that was around your shoulder to graze your hair once more. His gentle touch is soothing, helping you relax like it had when you laid down to watch the show, but coupled with the kiss, your raging hormones were reading the wrong room.

Lifting your head, you turn your chin to press your lips to his in a rush. Yoongi barely has a chance to react before you climb into his lap and slide your hands around his neck, slipping them up into his black locks. Parting your lips, you dance your tongue across his bottom lip and deepen the kiss, the strongest warmth erupting within your center. Powerless with his head locked to the cushion, Yoongi hums and attempts to pull away.

“Baby,” He chuckles as you resort to kissing his cheek, down to his jaw.

“Shhh,” You hush, dipping your head to press open mouthed kisses to his neck.

“You should nap, we have dinner.”

“Not tired anymore,” You sigh, dragging your tongue from his collar bone to behind his ear, nibbling his earlobe for half a second, “I need you.”

“You need sleep, you’ll be nodding off at dessert,” Yoongi’s eyes shut during the jaw kisses, he thinks, his voice coming out of him now on auto-pilot while his body responded to you directly. His breathy, lust filled sigh that leaves his lips after his words makes your brain short circuit. Grinding down on his lap, your fingers tighten in his hair, giving the strands a harsh tug. Brushing your nose against his, you kiss his lips and whine after you part.

“Yoongi,” Whispering his full name, something that rarely leaves your lips, his eyes pop open, heavy lidded. The desperate riff graces his ears while your widened eyes plead with his. Yoongi could easily walk away from this, let you go upstairs to get some sleep before your night out, and be completely fine. On the other hand, your fixed gaze was begging him, telling him that you were not going to be completely fine if he didn’t do something.

His eyes studying you was nearly enough of a connection to satisfy the emotional hunger, but then his hands slid up your thighs and your knees tightened around his waist. Every move he made, your body heightened the sensation to a hundred.

“Take me upstairs… Right now,” You whisper from behind clenched teeth. Yoongi smirks, giving the round of your ass a squeeze, watching your body melt before him, listening with delight as his traveling fingers make you moan and groan.

“There’s no time to go upstairs,” He breathes, gripping your waist as he stands to his feet, laying you down on your back, settling over you, “Gonna fuck this out of you right here.”

In the backseat of the car taking you to dinner, Yoongi’s hand was sliding up and down the inside of your thigh. His eyes were on the road where he sat in the center seat, staying observant of your surroundings at all times.

Glancing down to your phone that had been blowing up for the past five minutes, you open another message from Sunny.

[Sunny Girl]: Why did Tae just say you have something to tell us???? Can you HURRY UP and GET HERE

“She’s pissed,” You show Yoongi the message, and he laughs under his breath.

“Tell her I had to pry you off of me to get you in the shower,” He raises a brow, keeping his words quiet, between you. Pressing your lips together, you shoot him a silly glare.

“I don’t know what to say to her,” You say, staring at the text, “I don’t know what to say to anybody, I’m freaking out.” Yoongi looks back down at you, this time with worried eyes.

“Freaking out?” He mumbles, giving your leg a squeeze.

“Aren’t you nervous?” You ask with a small laugh, meeting his eyes. Thinking to himself, he takes a deep breath and shakes his head. “What?!”

“Baby, two of them know already,” He breaks into a grin, but not to diminish your anxiety, to help push down his own. On the inside he was a mess, on the outside he was as cool as a cucumber. The two of you shared crises, and he knew that this one would be yours to have, so he ignored his own anxiety for you.

“I’ve known Sunny since I was twelve,” You say, “You see the way she loves me, this is about to deck her straight in the face, D,” Yoongi holds in a laugh, and nods, “What if she tries to do something crazy?”

“Like what?”

“Like, like…” You glance around the car as if the answer was going to jump out from the wrinkles in the leather seats, “Like, put her job on hold, and try to move in with us… Or, or… Quit the Kardashian show, and move in with us…”

“Hm,” Yoongi frowns, lowering his brows, “Sounds like you want her to move in with us.”

“No!” You shout, slapping a hand to his chest, “I don’t want that! We don’t want that,” You lower your voice dramatically, “Trust me, I lived with Sun, you don’t want that.”

“Okay, then if she tries, we tell her no,” Yoongi soothes, letting his hand explore the fabric of your pants like it had been for the ride. He glances to your hand on his chest that was slowly starting to grip the cotton, your fingers tightening passionately. “Take a deep breath, please.” Yoongi reaches for your hand, declawing it from his beating heart, linking his fingers with yours. Listening, you suck in a breath and release it with shaky hands.

The car makes one last turn around a tall, white building, coming to a stop at the back where your car door was opened for you. Clutching Yoongi’s fingers like he was going to leave, you slide out of the car and come face to face with a familiar man who gives you the most welcoming smile, washing away some of your nerves.

“Branson, you would be here,” You grin, throwing an arm around his back to hug him, keeping Yoongi close. The two guys share pleasantries, then the head of security looks you up and down and shrugs.

“You’re here, I have to be,” He says, “Shall we?” Branson gestures toward the door, giving the space behind and around the car a scan with his sharp eyes.

Gripping the long, metal hand of the door, Yoongi pulls it open for you, letting you lead him inside the dimly lit, beautifully decorated restaurant that smelled of everything delicious. He feels your fingers tighten even more, if that was possible, and it makes him wonder how powerful your grip will be the day you give birth to the child. This is only the day you’re telling your friends you’re having it, he had nine more months to get used to this.

Passing by the bathrooms, Yoongi pulls you back a second to make sure you saw where they were, then lets you continue on your flustered jog down the hall. Turning a corner, the space you’ve arrived in is totally empty, except for a round table in the corner that is surrounded by your rowdy group of friends making a scene with drinks in their hands.

“AYE!” Is called out from the commotion, and six other heads whip around to find you approaching with a pep in your step. Sunny, leaping to her feet with two glasses in her hand, clicks over to your side in her high heels and hugs you as best as she can with the drinks occupying her extremities. Kissing both of your cheeks, she sighs and takes a long look at you, big, soft eyes taking in every detail.

Wearing a smile, her eyes narrow a bit, asking you quietly, “Why do you look different?”

“Different?” You repeat in a flash, glancing over your shoulder at Yoongi, “I don’t look… I don’t look different.” Nervous laughter escapes you with every breath.

“You were having sex when I called you three times, weren’t you?” Sunny grills, turning her eyes over to Yoongi who smirks, pointing his chin up to the ceiling to avoid her glare. Blushing, the nervous laughter takes over.

“Sunny!” You say, wiggling Yoongi’s hand that was still latched to yours. Your best friend looks down at them.

“You can’t even let go of him,” She laughs with you, “It’s alright, I know, you’re in love, nothings changed,” Sticking her tongue out to mark her faux disgust, she holds out one of the glasses in her hands, giving it to you, “Here, Jungkook tried to tell me I shouldn’t get it for you, but tonight is a night to celebrate!”

“Celebrate?” You question.

“Yes! All of us here, together. I haven’t seen this in months,” The smile that relaxes her face is sincere, “Which makes me have to ask,” She shifts her attention to Yoongi, “How’s the shoulder?” Stepping closer to him, she lifts her now empty hand to rub his arm. Using this opportunity to slip away, you release his hand to hurry over to Jungkook sitting beside Jimin at the table.

Watching as you scurry away, Yoongi answers all of Sunny’s questions while shaking his now emancipated fingers.

“I assume this is for you?” You half ask the blonde boy standing up to give you a hug and a kiss on the cheek, “Smells a little fruity, must be yours,” Jungkook giggles, baring his teeth, taking the icey glass from you.

“Told her not to get it, but she insisted,” He rolled his eyes, “She’s persistent that one.” Pulling back a chair on the other side of him, he offers it to you, pushing you in after you sit down.

“Don’t I know it,” You say, giving Jimin a wave.

“She doesn’t know it’s really for me,” Jungkook lifts the glass as if to ‘cheers’, then takes a sip. His lips pull into a frown as he swallows it. “Oh god,” Wincing at the flavor, he sits the glass on the polished wood finish of the table and slides it in front of Jimin, “Maybe this is for you.” He whispers, making you laugh.

“Kookie,” You pop out your bottom lip staring at his wavy hair, “Are they really going to make you go purple?” He groans, folding his hands on his lap.

“I don’t want it,” He says, sitting back in his chair, “I like this blonde, and I honestly would want blue over purple,” Jungkook nods toward Sunny, still chatting away with Yoongi and now Jin who joined the duo, “She says blue is better with, uh, I dunno, something about my skintone?”

“Oh my god!” You lean into him, grabbing his arm, “Do blue, think about me, do blue. I have designs to do, even though Yoongi won’t let me near them, and if you do blue it will be so much easier to mix.”

“Why won’t he let you near your work?” Jimin asks, inviting himself into the conversation with a scrunched up face of confusion. Straightening up, you clear your throat and look at Jungkook for help. He looks at you, then at Jimin, then back to you and widens his eyes in defeat. Releasing the tiniest sigh, you tilt your head and play dumb.

“I think it’s because I was sick,” You say convincingly enough.

“Oh, yeah,” Jimin’s face shifts to a worried one, “I’d wanna ease you back in too, especially with everything we have coming up between the singles and the music videos and the shows-”

“Chim,” Jungkook cuts him off with a smile, then turns to you, “You’ll be fine, I promise.” Amidst Jimin's rambles, the anxiety about work you've set aside for the future wanted to worm its way into this important night. Babies were time, babies were money. Two things you once used to struggle with before you fell into the grasp of the man walking up behind your chair.

Yoongi’s arms slid around your shoulders slowly. Everyone took their seats around the table, leaving the chair next to you empty for your boyfriend to have.

“Do we need to walk away?” He whispers to you, smiling and nodding at Hoseok across the table. A shake of your head wasn’t enough to get him off your case, he whispers again, “What’s going on?”

“Normal stuff,” You mumble, turning your chin to peek at him.

“New normal stuff?” He raises a brow.

“No, we’ve talked about it before.”

“Lovebirds, can we eat?” Sunny sing songs, waving her hands in your direction, “I’m starved.”

The thought of eating mixed with your nerves has you screwing your eyes shut as nausea clouds over your being. On your back you feel Yoongi take a breath, and stand up tall, placing both hands on either of your shoulders. Massaging you for a moment, he sighs theatrically, catching the attention of the attendance around the table.

“We’re still… getting better,” Yoongi bobs his head. A couple of the guys pulled a face, or nodded along with him, Sunny however, was quick to pick up his bullshit.

“You said she was great earlier,” She says, confused.

“Uh, well, you know what it’s like to come back from being sick, right?” Yoongi nervously chuckles, glancing at Jin and Jungkook for some kind of backup. He wasn’t sure you were going to go through with telling them tonight, this could be you backing out of your announcement. Jin launches forward, sipping his drink through a straw.

“Totally!” He says with wide eyes, picking up on his cue, coughing after he swallows his drink, “If you guys need to go, we get it.” Yoongi gives him a smile to thank him.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Sunny’s voice gets louder. Sitting forward herself, she bumps Jin's shoulder, “You’ve been at their defense all day, this girl is fine,” She then squints at how you were sitting, still with your eyes shut, barely taking in any of the conversation happening around you, “I know you, I know you two, something is up.” Snapping your eyes open, you jump up to your feet, taking everyone by surprise. Sunny’s words had struck a nerve, a fiery one.

“I… We…” You choke out, reaching a hand behind you to grab something of Yoongi’s. Finding his hand, you yank him closer. One of his arms slides around your body, holding you close to his front, while his other holds your hand happily, his thumb drawing circles on your palm. Anxiety has riddled your expression, but Yoongi’s smirk tells the group that there’s something juicy on the way.

“Oh my god,” Sunny gasps, planting her fingers over her mouth, looking down at your left hand, searching it for clues. That’s the first thing that gets you to finally smile.

“What!?” Taehyung glances at her, attempting to follow the line of her eyes, “What is going on?”

“Say something, somebody,” Namjoon bangs a fist on the table once, wearing a light smile, sitting forward with anticipation like those without the knowledge of your news.

“Tell them,” Yoongi says quietly, yet loud enough for everybody to hear him. Your tentative eyes scour the table, starting with Jin who couldn’t put his drink down, passing by suspicious Sunny, confused Taehyung, smiley Namjoon, hopeful Hoseok, and pouty Jimin, ending with Jungkook who held tens of thousands of galaxies in his eyes. The smile he wore was incredibly sincere, gazing up at you like you were his idol.

Giving Yoongi one more look, he smiles, waiting patiently.

“I’m not sick,” You say with a breath, turning back to your friends. Taehyung fake gasps, making Hoseok giggle. Yoongi scolds them with his eyes, the two friends jumping back into place, to listen to what you have to say, but you choke again. “Can’t do it, you do it.” You whisper, squeezing Yoongi’s hand.

“Me? You sure?” He asks, and you nod, closing your eyes. Yoongi wastes no time, looking out proudly to his friends. “We’re pregnant,” He says with a grin.

At the sound of the words, your eyes open to a reaction you did not expect. No one had moved.

“Is that it?” Taehyung asks.

“Yeah,” You breathe, “That’s it. I’m pregnant.”

“Fucking called it!” He shouts with a smile toward Jimin.

“You did not call this, this was expected,” The It boy rolls his eyes.

“Hold on,” You stop the bickering by holding up a hand, “This was expected?” You tilt your chin and glare at him. Pouty lips smirk back.

“Guys,” He says quietly, looking between you and Yoongi.

“He’s not wrong,” Hoseok says sheepishly, lifting his shoulders to his ears.

“What!” Yoongi sighs, laughing. Jimin starts to plead his case with Taehyung and Hoseok to Yoongi, bringing up your relationship's past, and your favorite thing to do together. You want to listen, you want to hear what they’re discussing, because it’s about you, but you’re glued on Sunny.

Sitting sideways, body facing Jin, her eyes that were once sharp, and a little pissed off, had softened immensely. Your goddess of a best friend slowly shook her head in tiny, lips parting in shock. Standing up, pushing her chair back aggressively, she pulled the boys away from their amusing bickering, her aura sucking them in.

“You’re pregnant?” She asks just above a whisper, never once leaving your gaze. Nodding, your smile starts to grow. “You’re gonna keep it?”

“Wouldn’t have told you all I was if I wasn’t,” You chuckle awkwardly, feeling a lump in your throat, “I’m gonna be a mom.” The cry breaks, tears stream down your cheeks as Sunny pushes past Jin’s chair to throw her arms around you, holding you so tight you can feel her heart beating a mile a minute.

“You’re gonna be a mom,” She repeats, and her own tears start.

“Yeah, you are!” Jungkook cheers, the next one to stand up. Holding open his arms for Yoongi, your boyfriend smiles and takes him in, patting him on his back a couple of times, sending him another type of thank you for keeping your secret.

There is at least five minutes occupied by hugs, and congratulations, and kisses as you and Yoongi share broken info with each member who was the next to approach you. Yoongi tells the story of the Golden Disc Awards, how that was the day you had found out, and ultimately the reason you were plastered to the couch the entire time, not even making it out to see the show. At the mention of it, you feel your heart twist. You wanted to watch that performance.

“Holy shit,” Taehyung sings, slapping an arm around Yoongi’s back.

“I know,” Yoongi says. Since he spilled the news, he was unable to control his smile.

“And I thought Jimin would be the first,” Taehyung says.

“Hah,” Jimin cackles, “I can’t get pregnant!” In front of him, Jungkook shoots him the quickest look of worry, like he just leaked some kind of secret of his own, but it’s brushed away as fast as it had come up.

“What the hell did that mean?” You ask Jungkook, elbowing his tattooed bicep.

“No idea,” He whispers, giving Jimin a deadly look.

“You besties okay?” You question, a joking tone hidden within it.

“We’re fine,” Jungkook sighs, switching to a more positive energy, “How do you feel? Everyone knows!” He hugs you for the fifth time, giving you a shake.

“I think… I think I feel hungry,” You say after some thought, and Jungkook pulls away with mischievous eyebrows that make you giggle.

“You’ve read my mind,” He says, then releases you to toss his hands in the air, gathering the attention of the room, “Baby Mama is hungry, let’s eat.” He blushes at his own words, covering his mouth with a hand as he glances at you with a grin.

“Baby Mama!” Sunny repeats, the group laughing together.

Yoongi approaches you as everyone begins to take their seats. With his lips pulled into a smile puffing out his cheeks, your stomach takes a tumble, finding him incredibly adorable. Sliding his arms around your torso, he pulls you close and kisses your temple.

“I don’t think I see anyone packing their bags,” He says quietly, pressing his forehead to yours. Rolling your eyes, you smile and laugh under your breath.

“Give her a week,” You say, rising to your tiptoes to give him a proper kiss, and when you take a breath, you smirk and whisper, “Congratulations daddy.”

Widening his eyes, Yoongi huffs a laugh, shaking his head, “No, no, don’t do that.”

With a giggle, you press your lips to his, and mumble a quiet, “I love you.”

Taking your seats at the table with your friends, there’s a tremendous relief, a huge weight taken off of your shoulders now that they know. Throughout the dinner they asked a million and one questions, which should’ve made you nervous, but instead gave you an excitement you haven’t felt yet.

All seven of your friends were going to be there for you throughout this entire experience, ready to help, ready to pitch in, ready to look after you, as well as the man beside you who held his hand over your thigh for the entirety of dinner. You were loved, you were supported, but most importantly, you were happy. Completely, utterly, truly happy.

Here are some of the events & works mentioned in this piece for reference... I spent some time studying & watching these!

Golden Disc Interview

TinyTAN Dream ON

In no means do I mean to discredit anyone who created TinyTAN or worked on it. In this piece of fiction, OC is a 'ghost' creator and remains anonymous, so all original creators in ACTUAL real life are still there to be credited. This is a piece of FICTION.

thank you for reading, I hope you’ve enjoyed this piece!

feedback is always greatly appreciated & helps artists immensely. we also all love messages & the audience’s input, opinions, and ideas.

leave me some here! <3

vegas series tags <3

@damn-u-min-yoongi @my-dark-happy-place @ahewlett

610 notes · View notes

shotorozu · 4 years ago

Note

Hello. I got into a car accident and I was with my younger sister too. I got 2 surgeries and I don’t remember much. My younger sister got a few stitches😞 I feel horrible like an older sister.

Was wondering if I could request a head anon of where reader gets into a car accident and the characters react to it. (Tamaki, izuku, shoto and any of choice. Sad thing is my FUCKING Spanish teacher won’t respond to me and I have really bad grades on that class 😢 ( ´༎ຶㅂ༎ຶ`)

Thank you and take care also Safe driving

s/o getting into a car crash

character(s) : bakugou katsuki, amajiki tamaki, todoroki shouto (bnha)

legend : [Y/N = your name] they/them pronouns used, quirk’s not specific

headcanon type : fluff, comfort (x reader)

note(s) : 😦 omg i hope you’re doing okay, anon- your spanish teacher better respond to you or else >:T

»»————-　♡　————-««

bakugou katsuki

when he gets word that you’ve gotten into a car crash, his hands crack with mini explosions— dropping everything to literally run to wherever you’re at

“damnit, damnit, damnit! where the hell was i when that happened?!”

appears a lot pissier than usual, in reality— he’s just really worried, and he can’t slow down his heart palpitations!

“calm down bakugou!”

“calm.. CALM DOWN? RIDDLE ME THIS, ASSHOLE—”

hm okay, so lets say that you were in the passengers seat when the crash happened

katsuki will probably want to find whoever was the driver, and just absolutely go ballistic on them, but probably ends up not doing that when he thinks about what you’d feel

and lets say another driver crashed into your car— katsuki will search high and low just to find that said driver, and he’ll show them hell

and if you crashed into a poll or something, he wouldn’t get too mad— but he’ll still scold you, and lecture you about driving safety

when he finds out you need surgery, he’ll be so upset

“what do you mean SURGERY? who the hell crashed into you, and why do they have a license?! they’re a danger to society!” he sounds angry but he’s quietly yet impatiently waiting outside for the surgery to be successfully completed

cleans and takes care of your remaining injuries, doesn’t matter if there’s a tiny little scrape on your forehead, or if you’re left with a bunch of broken bones.

he’ll be nursing you, like it or not.

he doesn’t let you leave your bed during your recovery, he insists— and you have an idea of what’ll happen if you try opposing katsuki 💀

don’t ever be worried about your grades! you have a smartie as a boyfriend, so he has probably made an extra copy of notes that you’ve missed

and he’ll probably argue with a teacher if they refuse to cooperate because,, YOU ALMOST PASSED AWAY?? is that not a valid excuse?

“i get that you’re really busy, but they literally almost died— how is that not an valid excuse? Y/N’s a hard worker, and a good one! and i will not rest until you understand!”

it might seem a little over protective of him to do this, but katsuki won’t EVER let you drive a car alone for who knows how long, he’ll be there with you just to monitor your driving.

that is, until you gain his trust back— that you could drive without almost losing yourself

amajiki tamaki

for him, it feels like the world is going slower

when he gets a call that you’ve gotten into a car crash— his anxiousness shoots through the roof, and it’s causing him to assume the worst of the worst

he’ll feel so guilty though, tears welling up in his eyes as his entire body shakes just thinking about you in a hospital bed

because,, where was he when that happened? how did he only learn about this now?

eventually, mirio and nejire calm him down to the point that they could properly bring him to the hospital you’re staying at

without him shaking like an old nokia

knows not to blame anyone, regardless of who crashed the car (he’s not confrontational anyway)

yet, he can’t help but think about how things would’ve went differently if he was there

feels frustrated to the point that he starts tearing up when he finds out you needed surgery, and even when you tell him that he can’t be guilty because of you

he still is 😔

anyways, when your surgery is completed— he eventually musters the courage to just put all of his nervous feelings aside for now, and take care of you like the sweetheart he is!

knows a shit ton of food (courtesy to his quirk) so he cooks you something new everyday during recovery

during your recovery, tamaki isn’t fond of the idea of you walking around, doing things as if nothing happened. he ends up making sure you stay in bed, by staying in your room for days

it might take a while for him to be reassured that you won’t accidentally end up in a ditch again, but for now— you’re carpooling with the big three

worried about your grades because of the time you’ve missed during your recovery? no worries! tamaki made an extra copy of notes, and basically summarized it in a way you could understand!

it’s a rollercoaster 💀 but at least this made tamaki take initiative, even without being pushed to do so!

let’s just say, mirio and nejire are really proud of him :))

todoroki shouto

he’s been wondering why he hasn’t seen you in a few hours, and on top of that— he hasn’t been able to contact you

like,, at all. but, he thought you were just feeling ill— so he decided that he was going to head over to your place after his tasks were taken care of.

but that’s all forgotten, when he finally gets word that you’ve gotten in a car crash— and that’s why you weren’t there

he literally freezes in place, and his reaction was almost like he saw the endeavor-nomu fight all over again.

the idea of his love being in critical state, made the normally calm todoroki placed in distress

after being calmed down by his fellow classmates, he quickly abandons whatever he was doing, so he could rush to the hospital

currently, you were in surgery. he appeared pretty calm on the outside, but internally— he was a mess. though, he did have to keep it together for you

when shouto finally meets you out of surgery, his gaze is soft “hi love— no, don’t stand up! just stay there. do you remember what happened?”

your description of it all isn’t the best, but he couldn’t blame you at all

if another driver crashed into you, it’ll be an intimidating encounter,, he won’t be physical, but his words will be harsh— not even caring about the fact that the driver is literally quaking in their shoes

and if you were in the passengers seat, shouto will briefly look at them with pure disappointment— he can’t really help it,,

but he can’t find himself being mad if you were the driver, he’s just glad that you’re still with him as you could tell, shouto’s only soft for you

immediately goes shopping for groceries after he takes you back, and you’ve guessed it! he makes you soba, since you’re fresh out of the hospital

insists that you stay bed ridden, and you can’t seem to oppose— since he’s giving you the softest of gazes.

unintentionally isolates you during the entire recovery stage, because he’s so absorbed with taking care of you— that he didn’t even think if you wanted to see your classmates

not that you’re complaining,, you get to see shouto and only shouto for an entire week or so!

he lets your classmates and friends see you after a bit, but he insists that they don’t speak too loudly— worried that they’ll accidentally ache your head

(that’s when everyone found out about shouto’s great caretaking ability)

worried about your grades and classes? shouto will handle it. he’ll reach out to your teachers/professors, and he’ll try to make some negotiations, he makes sure to tell them that you were taking time off because of a health emergency

will he immediately let you be in a car by yourself after? hm,, maybe not— it’ll take some time for you to be able to drive alone again. if you need to go somewhere by car, he’ll accompany you :))

he will NOT let another accident happen, not on his watch! his heart wouldn’t be able to handle it

»»————-　♡　————-««

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission

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erimeows · 3 years ago

Text

Feverish

You were surprised to have been called to the med bay a little bit past nine in the evening, woken up by your phone ringing and Ratchet on the other end. You clutched your robe close to your body as you raced through the hallway, sleep in your eyes and worries in your head.

The lead medic had given you no explanation, only telling you to come meet him outside of the med bay as soon as you could before he hung up on you.

You wondered if it was an emergency, if someone was injured or dying, if something had happened during patrol- Wait, no. Their night patrols didn’t start for another hour or so, and if it had been an emergency, someone like Bumblebee or Optimus would’ve called you in a panic.

Still, the whole situation was weird, and you were worried, so when you saw Ratchet outside of the med bay leaning against one of the walls, you immediately approached him with your concern etched in your features.

Upon seeing you, Ratchet stood up straight, then put a strong servo on your shoulder in a reassuring manner before looking down at you. His pale blue optics burned into your (e/c) eyes, and though you tried your best, you couldn’t read his expression.

Finally, after what felt like forever, the medic spoke.

“Optimus Prime has fallen ill.”

“What?” You immediately sputtered, and your eyes flew to the door of the med bay; closed, you couldn’t even see Optimus. You just prayed that he was okay. In the time that you’d known the Prime and his team, you’d seen him injured or sick plenty, though the former was much more common. He never prioritized his own health and tried to push himself to do things, even when he was unwell, so he took forever to recover... Hopefully it wasn’t something severe. “How bad is it? Is he awake? Have you told the team yet?”

“Hey, hey, slow down. It’s nothing crazy, (y/n), so don’t worry,” Ratchet’s words, said in an uncharacteristically gentle tone, soothed you, if only a little. If it were serious or ‘crazy’ as he put it, he would’ve told you directly instead of lying, so you believed him. “This morning, I was the first to wake and go into the kitchen to make myself an energy booster when I saw him stumble in... As in, he was literally stumbling over himself and I could see steam rolling off of him from overheat. He insisted he was fine, but something was off, so I dragged him to the medbay for testing. He’s low on energon and coolant, he was overheating, and there was a minor glitch in his vents from some battle damage that I had to fix. He’s recovering fine, but my main concern is that his chassis seems to be overheating to kill an infection. I think it’s just your run-of-the-mill space bug based on the labs I did, so I gave him some antibiotics.”

“You didn’t answer some of my questions-” You started, now concerned with whether you could actually go and see Optimus or not.

It wasn’t uncommon for the red and blue bot to ignore his own needs, but for him to have ignored symptoms that could’ve turned into something much worse had Ratchet not caught them... You wondered if there was something bothering Optimus that was making him neglect himself, more than he usually would.

“So demanding, you youngin’s,” Ratchet huffed and rolled his optics at you. “It’s not that bad, he’s awake, and no, I haven’t told the others yet. Our nightly patrol is soon and I have to break the news to them somehow, which is why I called you here. You can’t go with us anyway and they need me since we’re down one bot, so I want you to stay with Prime. He responds the best to you...” You blinked and then blushed at that, (s/c) cheeks burning bright. It was true that you and Optimus were close, but for Ratchet to acknowledge it like that... Well, you were flattered. You’d loved Optimus for as long as you could remember, and even though Ratchet surely meant that in a platonic way, it was nice to know that the effort you put into your relationship with the bot meant something. “His condition isn’t from a decline in his physical health- I had to pry like hell to find out what it was, but Prime finally broke and told me that he couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten an energon cube or ran a self-evaluation to make sure he was functioning properly, which is why he’s energy-depleted and why the damage to his vents went unchecked. He’s so stressed from the leadership that this team needs that he isn’t taking care of himself anymore, and now, it’s led to him falling sick again. I think there’s something else going on in that processor of his, too, but he wouldn’t tell me anything else... I just know it’s more mental than anything.”

You stopped, frowning. What else could Optimus be hiding from everyone? Was he doing something dangerous? Had something happened? Was he breaking down from stress?

“O-Oh.. Okay,” You mumbled and leaned into the servo of Ratchet’s that was on your shoulder, sighing when he ran his thumb over a sore spot on the groove between said shoulder and your collar. The two of you had developed a close bond over the past couple years since they’d been on earth, with you, Sari’s tutor and caretaker, also acting as a second medic for the team with Ratchet’s training. While he’d trained you in how to care for the Autobots, you’d given him the basics of human anatomy and medical care, so with that time spent together, you were close- whether the old grump admitted it or not. “What about his medicine? How often does he take it? Is there anything else I need to do?”

“One pill every six human hours, they’re the white gel capsules that are rationed out on the table by Prime’s med-berth. I just gave him a dose, so don’t get him another one until three in the morning. He also needs to drink plenty of energon, coolant, and lubricant to get better, so make him do it, even if he gets pissy with you- shove it down his throat if you have to... But those are all things that I already told him, and he’s fully capable of taking care of himself. I don’t need you in there to take care of him so much as I need you to stay in there to make sure he doesn’t get up and do anything stupid. You know how he gets when he’s sick.”

“Unfortunately, I do...” You let out a long sigh and crossed your arms over your chest. It was going to be hard dealing with Optimus- hell, you could already imagine how he would be trying to sneak out of the med bay to go on patrol or trying to make you bring paperwork for him to do. You wouldn’t allow either, but considering how much larger he was than you, you’d have to convince him to relax instead of just being able to hold his aft down like Ratchet or Bulkhead could. “I’ll make sure he stays put. I’m assuming you’re taking over leadership until he recovers, Ratchet?”

“As the team medic, I’m second in command, so yeah... I have to. I’d let Prowl do it, but Primus knows he doesn’t want to, and I wouldn’t let Bumblebee or Bulkhead within a ten mile radius of any form of responsibility like this. I’m really the only option.”

“Right...” You imagined what a patrol without Optimus, led by a stressed and grouchy Ratchet would be like, and then cringed. “Good luck.”

“Thanks. I’ll need it.”

With that, Ratchet withdrew his servo from your shoulder and waved at you before turning around and walking down the hallway. You figured that Optimus shouldn’t be left alone for too long, so you quickly entered the med bay and shut the door behind you.

It was dark, with a small night light plugged into the walls that illuminated the room just a bit. You could see Optimus, who looked uncharacteristically pathetic, weakly laying on a med berth with a small side table on the ground next to him. On the table were some energon sticks, a cup of coolant, and the white pills that Ratchet had mentioned.

“(y/n), is that you?” Optimus asked, trying to sit up, but immediately groaning in what you assumed was pain and flopping back down. His eyes squeezed shut, a strained grimace taking over his face-plates. You pulled one of the stools by a wall-counter to the side of the room where Optimus’s berth was and put it right by his side table so you could sit by him. You were close to his face, so you leaned down to look at it as his optics slowly opened back.

He was sick, and it would take at least a few days if not a week to recover; you could tell just by looking at him. His ocean-hued optics were abnormally dark and foggy, his powder blue faceplates were stained dark with heat, and though he wasn’t steaming like Ratchet had described this morning, there was definitely still heat radiating from his frame.

“Yes, Optimus, it’s me... I’m here to watch over you,” You leaned in to kiss the top of his helm, able to feel just how hot the metal felt against you. When you pulled back, you frowned at the absurd amount of heat- almost hot enough to make your lips sting, while Optimus’s normal temperature was a bit cooler than that of an average human’s by a degree or two. “Ratchet called me down here and told me what’s going on a bit ago. The team’s on patrol right now.”

“Slag, I can’t believe Ratchet told you,” Optimus groaned again, this time in annoyance instead of pain. “I told him not to earlier when he was fixing my vents... He’s probably going to tell the rest of the team, too. I have to get up and go supervise the patrol-” He forced himself to sit up this time, forced back a wince, forced his optics to open fully, but the second you pressed a rushed hand to his chest plates and attempted to push him back, he froze.

“Oh, no you don’t!” You argued, eyebrows furrowing in frustration as a pout formed on your face.

“Oh, yes I do!” The Autobot argued back without hesitation, but didn’t actually move to push your hand away or leave even though he was fully capable of doing so, only resting one of his servos on the one of yours that was on his chest- stumbling and overheating or not, he was much larger and much stronger than you. Then again, he probably knew that Ratchet would beat him to a pulp the second he recovered if he dared lay a single digit on you to escape the med bay. “As much as I appreciate the concern, I don’t want it nor do I need it, and I certainly don’t want it from my team. It’s bad enough that you know. I know they’ll start asking questions when I don’t go on patrol with them, and if they hear that I got sick from overexerting myself and not getting enough rest and energon, they’ll never let me hear the end of it-”

“Well, maybe that’s what you need, so lay your stubborn ass down! I did not come here with my hair all fucked up and in this stupid robe in the middle of the night when I could’ve been sleeping just to have you run away from me when I’m trying to take care of you! You getting up right now just drives home how bad you are about prioritizing yourself,” Optimus’s plump and normally soft lips, now chapped from dehydration, pulled together into a tight frown- it was the face he made when he knew he was in the wrong. “You’re getting out of your bed when you’re supposed to be resting so you can go lie to your team and tell them you’re fine when you’re not, and for what? Your pride?”

“No, I just don’t want them to worry for me. I’m already stressed out enough and the last thing I need is for that to contribute to their struggles. They’re all dealing with so many of their own problems, and I’m sick of being a burden to everyone around me...”

Optimus huffed, but gave up and laid back down, much to your relief. He still held your hand, though, and you let him- even if he was sick, you didn’t want him to let go.

“You’re not a burden, and just like how they’re dealing with their problems, you’re dealing with yours. You don’t have to be perfect to be loved and respected, and not to insult your acting skills, but... They won’t believe you if you walk out there overheating and struggling to stay standing to tell them that you’re perfectly fine. Ratchet told me how you were stumbling around this morning.”

“I hate that you’re right,” He mumbled, and you wondered why he always had to be so childish when he was sick.

Then again, as much as you hated Optimus’s stubborn personality, it was a major component of who you’d gone and fallen in love with all that time ago. It was crazy, you thought; just the extent that you loved Optimus Prime to, and how terribly unaware he was of it. You thought it best to keep the fact hidden, as you didn’t know what his feelings were, and he had so much on his plate already... It hurt to think that he didn’t know how loved he was- not just by you, but by everyone around him, who he was always bending over backwards for, completely unaware that they’d do the exact same for him.

“And I hate that you treat yourself like this. Plus, as much as Ratchet threatens us all with consequences for our actions, he’s not going to tell them what’s going on in depth; just that you have a fever and that you’re resting, you know he respects patient confidentiality. He’ll probably even downplay it because he knows that’s what’ll make you happy.”

“No, you’re just trying to reassure me, but...” Optimus paused and let go of your hand, fully settling back into the berth. You took your hand back and looked off to the side, already missing his touch. “I know you want to, and that Ratchet probably told you to spend the night here and take care of me, but I’m alright now. I’ll stay and rest, I promise. You can go to your room to sleep, I know you’re usually not up this late, and I’d hate to keep you up with my problems.”

You didn’t really want to leave him, but you were tired, and you believed his words. His tone was genuine enough.

“Are you sure?” You asked and received a nod in return. So, you stood up and collected yourself. “Okay, if you’re sure... I’ll leave and go get some rest, then come back at three to give you your antibiotics and make sure you’ve got something on your stomach.”

Silence.

The second you turned around to leave, though, Optimus was grabbing the back of your robe and holding the cloth between his digits, tone low as he spoke again.

“Actually, (y/n), wait... Don’t leave me. I need you.”

You turned back around and looked at him, confused. Hadn’t he just told you seconds before that he was fine and that you should leave to go get some rest so that he could fall into recharge as well? What was with the sudden change of heart? Was there something going on with his physical condition, or was it something else?

“Huh? But Optimus, you said you needed to rest...” You muttered, which earned you a shake of his head in return.

“I will,” Optimus promised. “Please, just stay and don’t question it. I lied to you, I don’t know why, but I can’t be alone right now. Don’t leave me.”

The plead from him was unexpectedly vulnerable, honest, open. You appreciated it, but at the same time, you were concerned about what exactly was going on with him- you felt like there was more to the story than stress and leadership and lack of self-care. While all of that was definitely in character for Optimus Prime, there was something else that he wasn’t telling you about, too. With how close you were to him, it wasn’t abnormal for you to have deeper discussions, but for him to admit that he wanted- no, needed you there with him and couldn’t be alone was something you’d never thought you’d hear in your lifetime.

“Okay, I’ll stay until you tell me to go, then. Thank you for being honest with me.”

With that, you sat back down on the stool and looked at him. A little bit of that light had returned to his optics, but he still seemed like he was in rough shape.

“Thank you.”

Silence again.

Instead of adjusting to get comfortable and slip into recharge, Optimus just sat there with his back against the board of the berth, optics trained on you. It had taken a while to get used to when you’d first met him, but nowadays, you were used to the Prime’s intensity, especially when it came to eye/optic-contact. Still, though, the way he was staring at you now... You couldn’t quite interpret it. Then again, could you usually? Optimus was hard to read sometimes.

“You’re not resting,” You teased, but received a serious response in return.

“I’m thinking, and then I’ll rest.”

“You’re sick, the last thing you need to be doing is overthinking like you always do,” You reached out to him, rested your palm on the side of his face and tenderly ran a thumb over the apex of his cheek. Surprisingly, he leaned into your touch with a smile.

“What if it pertains to you? It’s either I tell you and get my closure, which is daunting, or I sit here overthinking it like I always do.”

You felt your heart drop to the bottom of your stomach and flinched. It had been obvious that something was on his processor, but it had to do with you? What was it? Did it have to do with your feelings? Tense, you talked again.

“...Have I done something? I’d rather you tell me.”

“You’ve made me fall in love with you.”

The words were whispered but still felt so loud, filling the room with their impact in a way that made your cheeks hot and your heart beat hard against your chest.

“Your illness must be making you delusional,” You laughed nervously, but Optimus only gave you a sloppy grin and laughed. You moved your hand to the top of his helm to check his temperature, but it hadn’t changed- as much as you wanted to believe it, you were sure he was being serious and not having feverous hallucinations like you’d initially suspected. Still, you thought it proper to ask. “Do you feel hot? Are you overheating again?”

“No, (y/n), I’m just in love with you,” Optimus peered at you, smile falling a bit. “I mean, yes, I am sick, and I’m still overheating, but I’ve been in love with you for- Ah, I’m actually not sure how long it’s been... I just know it’s been too long.”

There was a pause, in which the two of you seemed to be processing what important things were said; in the span of just a minute or two, Optimus had boldly laid his feelings out for you on the table, unabashed and proud, the tension that came with two years worth of pining that you’d been doing solved so... Quickly. You were surprised you hadn’t felt your jaw hit the floor.

Had he really loved you the whole time? Or was this a recent development? Why was he only telling you now? Had his stress over his feelings for you also contributed to his sickness?

“I’m not sure I can talk about this in good conscience when you’re so vulnerable,” You smiled back at him, (e/c) eyes meeting his ocean-hued optics as you removed your hand from his head. Shyly, he reached out to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. “It feels selfish, but... I love you, too, and that’s why I want you to rest and get better, maybe not stress out so much.”

You kissed the back of his servo as he pulled it away, earning what you hoped was a blush and not more symptoms of overheating.

“I’d kiss you if I weren’t afraid of getting you sick,” Optimus sighed. You were sure that you probably couldn’t catch whatever he had going on since he was a Cybertronian and you were human, but you didn’t want to test that theory, so you left it alone.

“It’s okay,” You reached out to hold one of his servos in both of your hands, squeezing reassuringly. “I can feel the sentiment. Just focus on getting better, okay? We have all the time in the world.”

“Sometimes I fear we don’t- Have all the time, I mean, and I suppose that’s why I finally broke down and did this- I like to believe I’m impervious to everything around me, but I’ve already died once, and every time I get sick, I always think about what will happen if I go offline without telling everyone around me just how much they mean. I didn’t want to be scared anymore, not when it came to you.”

“I...” You stood and got on top of the berth so you could sit next to Optimus, curling into his side. “Me, too.”

“Will you be here when I wake up?” The Prime asked and wrapped an arm around you. Gentle. Strong. Warm.

“Would you like me to be?” You asked in return with a tilt of your head.

“Yes.”

“Then I’ll be here,” Optimus looked at you, clearly somewhat doubtful, but you only shook your head with a smile. “I promise, I won’t leave you. Just get some rest, okay?”

“...Okay.”

So, you stayed, and when Ratchet walked in the next morning to see you curled up by Optimus’s side on the berth with your (lip/chap)stick smeared on his servos, both of you sleeping peacefully for once, he couldn’t help but think that Optimus getting sick once in a while wasn’t so bad after all.

#tfa #transformers animated #transformers #optimus prime #tfa optimus prime #optimus prime x reader #tfa optimus prime x reader #tfa ratchet #ratchet #fanfiction #request #requests

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