#best Tube Filling Machines

[euthymiya]

slowly, surely — ft. todoroki touya

touya’s body heals one day at a time, slowly but surely. he and his brother bridge the gap along the way, slowly but surely. you like to think maybe, there’s a good chance he’ll live a life outside of just dying now

before you read: fem reader ; chapter 426 spoilers ; established relationship ; post war ; touya lives and his body heals idc ; todoroki family dynamics ; fluff and healing

You never thought you’d meet his family.

Touya’s family files in every day through the door for weeks into his room after the war. You’re introduced to the people you never thought you’d formally meet in an unlikely circumstance.

It’s difficult at first. Touya can only speak for a few minutes at a time every day. You have to share the sparse, little time you have to see him with the rest of his family. But you suppose it’s not so bad. You get a glimpse of the kind of brother Touya could have been, a side him you never got to see.

He’s teasing—makes a well-timed slightly inappropriate joke at Natsuo’s expense regarding his wedding. The blush on his brother’s face and the chastising click of his mother’s teeth makes you smile a bit. He pretends to be bored when Fuyumi rambles about her new students, but he listens attentively—you know because it surprises you all when he brings up a student she mentions in passing weeks ago. He’s a bad influence, too—his suggestions for Shouto to cheat earn a wilting glare from you that makes him concede begrudgingly.

Despite it all, you like to think Touya could have been a good brother. Can be a good brother. You don’t lose hope that maybe, amongst all the rubble, a small, fertile patch of soil exists.

It takes weeks. Months. Close to a year, even. One healer turns to two, two turns to three, and eventually, there’s a handful of the best healing quirks slowly trying to fix his charred, weakened body. Your eyes fill with tears the first time you see the swell of his round cheek restored, earning a huff and roll of his eyes.

Always so damn emotional, he grunts. He closes his eyes and relishes in your touch when you stroke the skin with your finger, though.

His skin is never quite the same. That much, you expected. It’s better than it ever was before, though. No more staples holding him together. No more deep purple and rubbery skin. It’s textured and discolored, but not nearly as rough as it used to be. You don’t care what he looks like, of course. As long as he’s with you and breathing you’re content—but he seems happy with the results.

He starts to feel whole again.

His family never stops visiting, either. (Except for his father—you promptly tell him his presence is no longer required one day. He nods like he understands. As though he can understand. It enrages you, but he offers you a quiet thank you before he leaves. Thank you for taking care of my son. You hate him more after that—for being appreciative that you now do what he couldn’t).

He gets moved to a proper hospital bed eventually. There are still tubes and needles hooked up to him—he’s not too happy about that. It makes sharing a bed with you hard. But he settles for letting you rest your head against his thigh, hand clutching his.

It’s as good as it gets for now.

Slowly, surely, Touya for the first time, doesn’t head for death. Slowly, surely, for the first time, he starts to heal.

————

“Is Touya-nii sleeping?”

“No,” you smile, turning to Shouto as he walks up to you, “he’s in there. Bored, actually.”

Shouto bends down, grabs the snack that drops from the vending machine for you and hands it to you.

Touya is right. He was raised to be a kind boy.

“I brought soba,” he says quietly. “I heard he can have solid food now.”

“He’ll appreciate it,” you beam.

Shouto lingers. You smile gently and take the hint, joining him and walking alongside the boy and make your way to Touya’s room.

It hits you then, all at once. Shouto has never spent a moment with his brother alone. Not properly, at least—not without trying to avoid being burned to death and not without having an unconscious, recovering Touya laid up in bed rest.

Soon, you hope, they can share a meal together without you in the room to ease the awkward tension.

“Touya,” you call, walking in, “you have a surprise!”

“We can finally use this bed for better things?” He asks, voice a raspy grunt.

You pinch the bridge of your nose, sighing in exasperation and making him snicker as he notices Shouto follow you through the door.

“No,” you say tiredly.

“Bummer,” he grins. It’s cheeky and cute enough that you don’t scold him further.

“Is the bed uncomfortable? I’m sure we can get a better one,” Shouto offers.

Touya lets out an amused snort, and you let your shoulders fall in relief—at least Shouto’s cluelessness at times makes things less painful when Touya remains his shameless self.

There’s comfort in it, though. You suppose you don’t mind it as much if his personality is still in tact.

“So what’s my surprise, doll. It’s not nice to keep the sickly waiting, y’know.”

“Why don’t you ask Shouto?” You roll your eyes.

Touya looks over at his younger brother. So much has changed in the last few months, you think—Touya looks happy to see his brother. It’s a big step up from murder, for sure.

“You shouldn’t have, little brother,” he grins, “what is it? Our father’s death certificate?”

“Oh, Touya,” you sigh, shaking your head, “you never change.”

“I brought soba,” Shouto holds up the bag in his hand, “I thought we could share.”

The smooth grin on Touya’s lips falter. Something flashes in his eyes—something close to regret. Maybe even sadness. It’s gone as quickly as it comes, replaced with practiced amusement as he hums.

“Great,” he drawls, “hospital food sucks, you know.”

Touya has more in common with his brother than he doesn’t. It takes him good near two decades to realize as much. Maybe, if he had the opportunity to realize Shouto was his brother who liked soba just like him and not the son that replaced him in his father’s fucked up goals, he could have lived just to live instead of just to die.

But he’s living now, he supposes. Breathing and talking and seeing—and as of more recently, eating. (Real food, at least).

There’s still a chance to eat soba with Shouto, though. Maybe Shouto hates fish just like him too—maybe he doesn’t. Maybe, in another life, he could pass his fish over to his younger brother at the dinner table when their mother isn’t looking.

“I’ll bring some more often then,” Shouto offers.

You smile as Touya’s eyes soften. The glimmer with a little bit of excitement, even. A childlike sort of glee he never got to have.

“Yeah,” he nods, “you should. Don’t expect me to pay you back, though. Your older brother’s dead broke.”

“Okay,” Shouto smiles.

You settle in the corner, letting the younger of the two take the chair beside the bed. Shouto pulls out chopsticks—Touya huffs over getting the brown ones instead of the black.

Shouto trades without a complaint.

You hear Touya murmur, “did you see the news lately?”

“About what?”

“About Endeavor, what else?”

“No,” Shouto swallows, “I had exams.”

“I told you, it’s easy to cheat if you—”

“Touya,” you hiss, making the latter curl his lips into a slight pout.

“Study hard, Shouto,” Touya grunts, rolling his eyes. “Hit those books, I guess.”

————— bonus —————

“How was today?” You ask quietly, sat on the edge of his bed, stroking through his hair. It’s shorter than it used to be, regrowing slowly from the roots with the rest of his body.

“Are we back on this talking about our days bullshit again?” Touya sighs, “we spent the whole day together, doll. You saw it all.”

“C’mon,” you hum, pinching his cheek, “indulge me.”

“S’fine,” he rolls his eyes, “the little brat was good company, I guess.”

“Yeah?” You grin.

He doesn’t meet your eyes, looking off to the side as he shrugs. “Yeah. Don’t make it weird.”

“You seemed like you were having fun,” you beam, stroking his cheek with your thumb. He rolls his eyes, leaning into your touch slightly.

“Yeah, s’cause my only company is you. Gets boring.” He gives you a charming, teasing, smooth little smile that has you scowling at him.

“How rude,” you huff, “maybe I should leave you with no company at all.”

He chuckles, turning his head slowly to give the pad of your thumb a soft, delicate kiss. “I’m kidding. You’re the best company a wanted criminal-turned-hospital-prisoner could have, doll.”

I would make a longer more detailed healing journey fic with touya but I already have a half written long fic for him that I seriously need to finish so it can wait. For now it will stay a short drabble

[holly-the-trash-writer]

Guilt

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Y/n lies unconscious in a hospital bed while Spencer drowns in guilt. You had felt that Spencer was cheating on you with Maeve and were going to stay with someone else before you got shot. Finding this out causes Spencer to snap and lash out at one of his closest friends.

Part 2

Word Count: 2,866

A/N: This has been a WIP for years! It was apart of a series with my own OC but I decided to change it to a Reader fic. The amount of WIPs I have is ridiculous!!!!!

Spencer sat at Y/n's hospital bed in silence. Tears were continuously streaming down his face, his breaths were shaky and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from your unmoving face. 

There was a tube coming out of your mouth to help your breathing. So many different wires were coming out of your body and attached to multiple beeping machines. 

He was holding your right hand in both of his, your skin wasn’t freezing cold but it was colder than he prefers it to be. 

You had only came out of surgery half an hour ago but they won’t know if it was successful until you wake up. Which could be between the next few seconds and never.  

Never was something Spencer was trying his hardest not to think about. 

There was so much he needed to tell you. So many things he had to say. 

The last time you were together you had fought. You told him that he’s been speaking to Maeve too much and that he's been ignoring you. Spending more time with this woman. 

Spencer had told you that you were being ridiculous and then you had to go on a case and Spencer never got the chance to talk anymore about it. 

You had been furious at him and now Spencer was angry at himself as well. 

He had called you ridiculous for coming to him about your feelings. This resulted in you refusing to be his partner in the field. Which led to you going with Morgan. Which ended in you getting shot. 

This is when Spencer’s brain began connecting things that didn’t match up. 

If he had listened to you he could’ve gotten you out of harm’s way. 

Not speaking to Maeve meant you wouldn’t have fought and you never would’ve been shot. 

He was supposed to protect you. 

It should be him lying there. Not his sweet girl. 

There was a knock on the door and Spencer barely reacted as Garcia and Emily came in. 

“Hey, how is she doin’?” Emily asked softly. 

Spencer turned his head a little towards them, “She... uh.” His voice cracked and he cleared it before trying again, “They said everything went well but we won’t know the damage until she wakes up.” 

Garcia's eyes watered as she stared at your body. “When will she wake up?” 

Spencer's eyes filled with tears, a sad smile forming as he squeezed your hand, “When she’s ready.” 

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he took it out to see that it was Maeve. 

Again.  

Along with the twenty missed calls from Maeve.  

He rubbed his eyes before pressing answer, “Spencer Reid.” 

“Oh my God. Spencer, I’ve been trying to reach you all day. Are you alright?” 

This statement didn’t sit well in his stomach.  

If you miss an appointment with your doctor, they don’t leave twenty missed calls on your phone.  

They wait for you to reschedule. 

He glanced at the other two women who were trying their best not to listen in. Although Garcia was looking particularly peeved about something.  

Then he glanced down at you and any words he was going to say to Maeve turned to ash in his mouth. He felt sick.  

Now he understood what you meant. 

“Now, isn’t a good time. I’ll call you next week.” He didn’t wait for a response before he ended the call and put the phone back in his pocket. 

Garcia shifted uncomfortably, “Was... was that her?” 

“Who?” Spencer’s brain wasn’t even functioning at 20%. He couldn’t think things through clearly. 

“Doctor Maeve.” Garcia mocked. 

Spencer frowned, “Yes. Why?” 

Emily gave Penelope a pointed look. 

A look that did not go unnoticed by Spencer, “What? What is it?” 

Emily put her hands up in a calming gesture, as if trying to approach a cornered animal. “Spencer. You must understand, we don’t mean to pry but Y/n spoke to Morgan and he didn’t know what to do so he told Garcia, who told me.” 

Spencer rubbed his eyes for the fourth time in ten minutes, he did not have the energy for this, “Told you what? What are you talking about?” Spencer was getting agitated now. Why can’t they just tell him? He hated not getting to the point. 

“Well, Y/n came to Morgan two weeks ago and was quite upset.” 

Spencer frowned as he looked at you again. Two weeks ago? You didn’t seem upset two weeks ago. 

“She had some concerns about this doctor that you’ve been speaking to.” Emily explained. 

Garcia huffed, “She told Derek that she had suspicions that you were cheating on her.” She spoke with daggers in her eyes. 

Spencer froze.  

What?!  

He stiffened in his seat as he stared at his unconscious fiancé in shock.  

You thought he was cheating on you?  

You might never wake up again and your last thoughts of him would be the fight and thoughts of his, supposed, adultery.  

How?! How could you think that he could even look at anyone that wasn’t you? 

“I. Would. Never.” He punctuated every damn word so they got his point, trying to blink away the fresh batch of tears that filled his eyes. 

“She planned to stay with Morgan and Savannah for a couple of days-" Garcia told him. 

Spencer tore his eyes away from the bed to gawk at Garcia, “She what?” 

Emily placed her hand on Garcia’s arm and spoke next, “Yesterday, Derek had... overheard one of your conversations with the doctor and he spoke to Y/n about it. So, she decided she would go and stay with him for a few days to sort out her head before coming to you about it.” 

Spencer was furious. Not only did you think he was cheating on you, half of the team now suspected him of it too and no one even had the decency to ask him. And what was this phone call that was so damning that Derek had to run and tell his fiancé? Why didn’t Derek just ask him instead of almost ruining his relationship without him even knowing about it! 

Spencer was shaking with rage. He stood abruptly from his chair and turned to the girls, pointing to Y/n’s bed he ordered out, “Stay with her.” before he stormed outside to head to the waiting room. 

He saw red. He couldn’t think of anything except for the anger he felt. 

Quickly turning the corner he saw the rest of the team sitting and talking as if nothing was wrong. 

J.J noticed him first and stood up, Hotch, Rossi and Morgan following suit. 

“Spence, any news?” she asked gently. 

Spencer didn’t even hear her; never slowed his pace either. As soon as Morgan was within arm’s reach he clenched his fist until his knuckles turned white and swung as hard as he could.  

His fist made connection with Morgan’s cheek and from the shock of Spencer’s actions it knocked Morgan off kilter. Morgan stumbled and placed his hand to his cheek. 

The punch clearly did more harm to Spencer than Morgan, but he didn’t care. The pain in his hand was welcomed. It cut through the hurt that was clutched around his heart. 

The others cried out in shock as they tried to digest what just happened. 

“What the hell, kid?!” Morgan yelled at him. 

“’What the hell’ is right!” Spencer growled back as he stepped up to the other man and pushed his shoulders, “Sneaking behind my back? Telling my fiancé that I had some secret affair because of some phone call you didn’t hear the entirety of!” 

Spencer was seething, the rest of the team gaping at him never having seen him so furious before, “You could’ve just asked! But no, the whole team had to get involved. And now I hear she was planning on living with you for a few days?!” Spencer clenched his possibly broken fist again. “She’s in a coma and may never wake up again and her last thoughts of me will be the thought that I was getting with someone else.” 

Spencer inhaled sharply as his rage at Morgan turned to rage at himself. 

“Spencer!” J.J shouted, “Stop!” 

His sharp inhales quickly turned to hyperventilation, his brain was in overdrive, a million thoughts and memories were spinning around his head and he just wanted it to stop. 

So he stopped it the only way he knew how.  

Instead of hitting Morgan, Spencer turned at the last second and hit the wall. 

He fell to his knees and cried as he hit the wall again and again and again and again. 

Blood smeared across the white wall as he broke the skin on the knuckles. The physical pain overrode his senses and he chased the feeling. 

That was until Hotch grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him away from the wall causing Spencer to lose his balance and fall back into Hotch's arms which quickly locked around him. 

“Stop! Get off of me! Hotch, let go!” Spencer squirmed as he tried to fight against his boss. His back was pressed tightly against Hotch’s chest, his legs bent in front of him and he kept slapping at Hotch’s arms to let go. 

Hotch just shushed him and held him tighter. Completely understanding his anger. He’s been there and the best thing for Spencer is to calm down enough so he can go back and sit with Y/n instead of giving in to his anger and doing something else that he will regret. 

Once Spencer figured out that he wasn’t going anywhere the fight drained out of him and he stopped slapping at the arms circled around him.  

While Spencer was hunched over Hotch gave the rest of the team a nod to clear the area and give the two some space. 

Hotch pulled one Spencer’s shoulders to shift his position so that Spencer curled into his chest. 

Once Hotch placed a comforting hand over Spencer’s head a sob broke past his lips and the entire dam broke. Spencer cried his heart out.  

He could barely breathe, inhaling only made him choke on his sobs and made him feel worse. 

“What if I never get to speak to her again?” he whispered between sobs. “Never get to tell her that she’s the only one for me.” 

“Spencer you need to breathe.” Hotch told him gently, “You need to calm down. Breathe with me.” 

Spencer felt Hotch’s chest rising and falling against him. He closed his eyes and tried to follow his boss’ actions. 

After a moment, Spencer was finally able to take a deep breath. The oxygen flooded his brain and the fog cleared. His entire body shivered before he came to his senses. 

Blinking hard he realised he was curled into Hotch’s chest, cocooned in his arms.  

He shouldn’t be here.  

He was sitting on the hospital floor instead of in with Y/n. He slowly sat up and Hotch let his arms fall from around him. 

“You alright?” 

Spencer wiped his left hand over his face, “Fine. Fine. Yeah. I need to uh, I need to go to Y/n.” 

He put his right hand behind him to support his weight, but an agonising pain shot through his hand and he fell onto his elbow with a grunt. 

“Here, let me see.” Hotch knelt over him and held out his hand. 

Spencer shook his head and used his other hand to support his weight as he got off the floor, dusting himself off as best he could, “I’m fine.” He held his right arm close to him as he stood up straight.  

He looked around and noticed that J.J, Rossi and Morgan are nowhere to be seen… which is probably for the best. 

The shame of what he’s done washed over him like a bucket of ice water. He just punched his best friend in front of his team then proceeded to have a break down in his boss’ arms. 

“Spencer.” Hotch called out. “You’re not fine, let me see your hand.” 

Spencer shook his head and walked out of the waiting room without saying anything. 

Stopping just outside Y/n’s room he looked in the window, you hadn’t moved a muscle.  

Emily was sat by your bedside holding your hand. 

The pain of the possibility of losing her was too much for him. His only relief was the slow rise and fall of your chest.  

His eyes were already puffy and sore, and he felt dehydrated. He sighed as he raised his left hand to wipe the tears away, cursing himself for his behaviour. 

“Spencer.” Hotch stood at his side, “You need to get your hand looked at, and I’m sure the nurse wouldn’t mind doing it by Y/n’s bedside.” He knew Spencer probably doesn’t want his hand looked at for at least three reasons; he doesn’t want to leave Y/n’s side for much longer, he feels embarrassed or shameful or he feels the need to punish himself. 

He agreed as long as he can stay beside Y/n, “Okay.” He opened the door and the bleeps of the machine’s filled his ears.  

That was your heartbeat.  

He lowered himself into the chair at your right side and raised his left hand to hold hers. His right hand was tucked into his chest. The throbbing was excruciating but he welcomed it. 

He pointedly avoided Emily’s worried expression before she smiled at him and left the room without word. 

A nurse came bustling into the room a few moments later with a tray of equipment, clearly fetched by Hotch. She stood next to him and Spencer raised his hand to let her do what she needed to do. Hissing as she cleaned the cuts on his knuckles. 

The nurse didn’t mind his silence and talked calmly to him as she worked, “You did quite the number on your hand.” She wiped away the blood and inspected his fingers, “You’ve definitely broken a few knuckles, I’m going to wrap your fingers in a splint and then bandage you up, okay?” 

Spencer nodded, “Okay.” He said quietly. 

She taped his middle and ring finger together and then bandaged his entire hand down to his wrist. “Now, keep this on for the next two weeks and then come back in so we can give you an x-ray and review the damage.” 

Spencer nodded, “Thank you.” 

The nurse left and Spencer was alone with Y/n once more. He stared at his right hand that was now resting on the bed.  

How could he do this? Throw a tantrum while the love of his life lies in bed fighting for her life. 

He leaned forward to rest his arms on the bed. 

“Hi.” His voice shook, and he cleared his throat. He hasn’t been this nervous to talk to you since you first met. “You always told me that I needed to talk more, but I- I have no words for what I’ve done. I’ve done something terrible. Actually, I’ve done a few terrible things.” The tears formed once more, and his head pounded from the pressure. “I may never get the chance to say this to you but I am so, so, sorry. I made you feel that you weren’t special to me anymore, that I don’t love you which is the furthest thing from the truth.” 

Spencer played with a strand of your hair that was laying on your shoulder. 

“How could I ever be with someone else? No one could ever, ever take your place in my heart.” 

He gently lifted your hand in both of his, his head felt heavy, so he bent over and placed his forehead on the back of her hand. “I love you more than anything in this world. When you wake up I’m going to spend every second of the rest of my life making it up to you. And I know you wouldn’t want to miss that. So, please wake up. Please.” 

He had been talking when it happened so he never heard it. 

You weren’t breathing in the same rhythm as before. 

When he finally noticed, he frowned as he looked you over. He slowly got to his feet as he scanned the machines. Right before his eyes some of the numbers began to climb as others started to fall. 

Spencer scrambled past the chair and ripped open the door to your room, “Doctor! I need a doctor here now!” He yelled out before running back to your side, “Y/n, sweetheart if you can hear me; don’t give up. Please.” 

Two doctors and a nurse sprinted into the room. 

“Sir, sir!” The nurse grabbed Spencer’s shoulder, “We need you to leave.” 

Spencer shook his head frantically, trying to keep up with everything that the doctors were saying to each other, “I can’t.” he whispered to himself. 

“Sir! Please!” The nurse pushed at Spencer’s shoulders until he was outside the room and the door was shut in his face. 

The rest of the team had heard the commotion and had run to the room as well. 

Rossi placed his hand on Spencer’s shoulder as the entire team watched the doctors place paddles on your chest and shock you. 

Again. 

And again. 

And again. 

[threepandas]

Bad End: Eve

You know how most Otome games are vaguely historical? Usually some non-specific mishmash of European countries? But fluffier and with more bows? It had once "gotten" to me, I think. I remember looking for outliers. Non-joke ones. Something that wasn't just "but this time with hats!"

I found one.

And now? Now I'm not sure if I curse that day or thank whatever force of nature lead me there. I guess... I guess it depends. Would I still have ended up HERE? If I had not found it? If so, then I genuinely and actually fucking rue it. Like... like actual "you'll rue the day! Bwahaha!" Type rue it. That's me. Ruing.

But? If it was always going to happen?

Then I guess...

I guess I'm weirdly glad. Because at least I have some fucking idea of what's going ON. Terrible, as it all is. Fucked, as the situation is. At least I'm not... not confused. Blind and at the mercy of those around me. Ignorance truely isn't bliss. All it does is leave you to try an fill in the blanks yourself. Usually with something far worse.

Not that the situation could GET much worse, by much.

I was in an Otome game. NOT a flower, high society, and dragons kind either. No. I? Was in a Dark Sci-Fi otome game. "Fate of man" was thrown around a lot. Power of luuuuv~ and such. Also, you know, HORRIFIC ethical violations. Human experimentation. Cataclysmic events and humanity "starting over".

All the high drama sci-fi concepts you could expect. It was a romp. Had good art. I'd had fun! Which is why I remember it so clearly.

Less fun when you're IN IT.

When you AREN'T one of the characters you KNOW will survive.

In fact, are one of the characters you know WON'T fucking survive. And will probably die MESSY. Horribly. Cause see, our BELOVED Harem collecting Protagonist? She? Was AN Eve. "AN".

Take a wild fucking guess what THAT project is about.

Did you say "breeding a better race of humans"? Ding ding ding! With humanity currently fucked, they want to FIX the problem by FIXING humanity. And of course, fuck ethics! Volunteers? Why use those?! Let's horrifically mad scientist our way to atrocity-ville! Make it all the more "God rightfully punishing us for our unforgivable sins" when we get wiped out!

Fffffffuck YOU, plot! I have to live here too!

You may, in fact, be picking up a slight note of stir crazy. A "wow, this lady rambles like a mother fucker" vibe. You would TOO, if you were stuck in a FUCKING TUBE. All I can do, day in and day out? Is wake, think, observe, then go right back to sleep. I can't even eat! I got a TUBE for that!

I... I miss showers.

Everything is GOO.

I'm an Eve. And if it weren't for the air tube controlng my breathing? I'd laughing hysterically until I died. And no, not in the "oh how funny" way. God. Oh... oh god. What a way to die. NONE of the Eves survive "the program".

Those IDIOTS are so OBSESSED with making bigger and bigger, better and better, FUCKING JUGGERNAUTS? That the Adams? Have long since reached the point of "mindless killing machine". UNSTABLE is putting it lightly. There is sexual dimorphism and then there's literal incompatibility.

But GOD FORBID the scientists admit that THEY are the ones with the inferior product.

It... it was even part of the game's plot. The scientist who made "Eve" HID her while HE made an Adam. I do not have that luxury. Somewhere, there is an unstable BESERKER being told I'm his "wife". That we're going to be HAPPY together. That he'll get to put his bruising, blood soaked hands anywhere he WANTS... just after he WINS me from the other Adam's.

Got to prove HE'S the best specimen, after all.

It makes my skin crawl. All I can hope, is that I can either provoke the bastard enough to kill me before they have a chance to stop him, or? I use my own enhanced strength to snap my neck. Maybe bite my tounge. Like HELL am I letting an Adam get near me.

The hiss of laboratory doors.

"Perfection at last..." Comes a relieved sigh. "All those HIDEOUS specimens. Why they make me suffer them, I'll never understand. We should have terminated them months ago. My poor project, they really think they're WORTHY of you..."

There's a derisive laugh. The scientist strolling into the lab I've been developing in, familiar. I watch him casually shrug off his lab coat and dump is bag. Hang his coat over the back of his chair. Turn, as he does each day, to STARE up at me. His eyes are a pale, pale purple the likes of which I've never seen before.

They're HAUNTING.

There is almost a red tint to them, though maybe that's the lights. The goo. I can never tell. He always looks ENTRANCED by me. Floating, visored, connected to far too many tubes an' wires. I'd think it was the fact that I was naked if it weren't for the way his gaze doesn't seem to drift lower then my shoulders. Seems more entranced by the way my hair moves, as though under water.

I've never once heard him talk about me lustfully.

But that doesn't mean he doesn't SCARE me.

"Let's begin, shall we? Time for your daily doses, mmm?" He says, voice dangerously affectionate. As though i had CHOSEN to do this to myself. As though he were merely reminding me of my morning medicine and not the hell ahout to come. "Going to be good for me? I know you shall, you always are."

He turned back to his desk, his computer. A few keystrokes... and I could feel the pod above me begin to hum, as it awoke. Oh god. Oh god it never got easier. From the corner of my eyes, bright chemicals slide down thind lines and into my veins. Like lines of lava. Bolts of electricity and pain. It was... AGONY.

My muscles seized. Brain screeched, first to the screaming I wish I could make... then static. With the long practice of daily pain, it took me far away. The click, click, click of keys. The sound of his voice, so terribly PLEASED, as I hung there and just TOOK it. No restraints, no strugging, no damaging myself. Just unbearable fire in my veins and a brain far, far away.

"Good girl~"

Distantly a phone rang. He made an annoyed sound, but picked up regardless.

"What. I'm in the middle of- ...Excuse me? I'm quite sure I did not hear you correctly. I said 'NO'. She's not-....I will NOT BE-...What. Are you out of your god damned MIND? That pile of scraps you call a project is coming NOWHERE near my-! ....you think you're clever, don't you?"

"Fine. You want to TALK? Let's TALK, Anderson. I'll be there in five."

From far away, past the pain, I watched him chance down at something at the screen. Back up to me. He hung up the phone but did not pause the program. Instead, calmly rising from his desk. Shrugging on his lab coat. Rounding the desk and striding towards my bio-tube.

"Hmmm, honestly, it should have been spaced out over a few more days... but you can take it. Endure a bit longer for me, would you, darling? Daddy's going to go deal with something for just a moment, he'll be right back, my perfect girl. Be good."

He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to my tank. One hand splayed next to it like he badly wished he could touch. Could stroke skin. Hold his creation close. It was not the first time he had done this. Small, covetous, little actions like he wanted to crawl inside my skin and STAY there. Like he cursed the glass that separated us.

He pulled back. Shifted to the side and kneeled. He... had hidden something behind my bio-pod? When? Apparently before I had become aware. Because I had not known about it. A black shoe box. I watched him open i-GUN. Thaaaat was a gun! Fuck. Well at least? By the time anyone thinks to look in on me? The overdose will probably have killed me?

There is a cold, terrible smile on his face as he rolls to his face. Tucking the gun into an inner pocket. It has a silencer. He leans forward one last time. Lightly kissing the glass of my pod, as though heading off to work and not to very obviously kill somebody. The pain continues. Builds. I watch him leave.

With nothing to anchor myself on... time blurs.

I think? There are alarms? Red lights flash. Then they stop. There is shouting at one point. But then silence. An explosion? Or am I hallucinating? Pain. My nerves are on fire. I don't want to have SKIN. Please... please make it STOP! Calm foot steps? Come to kill me? Please come to kill me. Make it STOP.

The lights died a... time? Ago? Emergency lights on now. Generators in the room are loud. Why can I still hear the feet? Footses? Words. H..hurts. please.

Click.

The pain eases to a stop. Aching but nothing new. Over? Oh, thank god. I can sleep now, right? But... sound? New. At my feet. Gurgling. Wha-? The very top of my head feels cold. Then my forehead. Then my temple's and ears, cheeks, jaw... wait. Is? Is the tube...DRAINING? I open my eyes.

When did I close them?

He's back.

Standing right in front of the tube. Blood staining the hem of his coat, lingering marks of his massacre cleaned but not quite scrubbed from his body. There are little off red stains on his cheek, from what must be blood splatter. They look like tiny freckles.

I'm... I can't...

I reach as the tube down my throat is pulled almost carelessly away by the machine. Choke, suffocate, as the same is done for my air tube. But then it's done... and I can BREATHE under my own power. Gasp and splutter, as the goo sloshes around my knees. Then it's gone. And the tube I've been leaning my weight against is roughly pulled away.

I collapse forward, my muscles having never actually supported me in this life.

Arms catch me. Wrapping me in a possessive hug. A hand immediately burying itself in long uncut hair, even as the other wraps itself around my torso to lean me against his body in a cradle. My face is pressed to his neck by the hand in my hair, cradling my head and neck. I can feel breath against the goo wet crown of my head.

"Finally~" he breaths out, whispering it against me like a sigh. "My beautiful, perfect girl. My darling creation. It took so LONG. Those retrobates interfering at every turn, lusting after you like ANIMALS, trying to keep you from me. Then, worst of all, trying to toss you to some pack of savages? Oh, darling~ Daddy's been so worried for you."

"But we'll be okay now, won't we? I finally have you. All fresh and finally finished. My perfect Eve. You can pick any name you want, of course. You and I will be leaving this ugly little place. Daddy has PLANS. A fresh new world, just for you, sweetheart."

He laughed, his hug tightening in a way that would have left bruises had I been a normal human. Kisses were pressed to my temple. A cheek, rubbed against my hair. He seemed... seemed GIDDY with it. That nothing could stop him now. There was no glass in his way. I could not move yet. My muscles twitched when I tried, but that was it. I wasn't even sure I could talk yet, if I tried.

"Aaah~♡ Welcome to the World, Darling. My Perfection. My Eve. This time no snakes or Adams to tarnish you. To get in your way. Just you and your Father~"

"FOREVER~♡"

Next: ->

[cosmopretty]

First Date

Kamora Arnold x Fem

( Long blurb )

Synopsis: You and KK have been talking for weeks now, the two of you have gotten really close even kissed a few times. Now KK asked you out on a date, your first date.

The past few weeks you have gotten to know KK Arnold one of UConn’s woman’s basketball players. She was sweet and funny and you both matched each other’s personality’s well. It was her best friend Paige who got the both of you to start talking, she gave KK your number and the rest is history.

You and KK have hung out a few times getting food or hanging with the team but never a real date. Today is your first real date with the girl, she won’t tell you where the two of you are going only saying to dress comfortable and nice. To say you were nervous was an understatement, you didn’t want to embarrass yourself or worse.

The two of you have also never kissed each other yet which was nerve wracking. Deciding on jeans and a black tube top with gold jewelry, your hair thrown in a slick back ponytail. The text message said she would be here at 3:30pm you have five minutes. Taking a deep breath in the mirror you do a once over before hearing a loud honk. Rushing to put you shoes on and grabbing your purse you head out seeing KK walking out of the drivers seat towards you.

Kamora smiles at you walking up to you “You look beautiful” she admits looking you up and down.

“Thank you KK you look good too” You compliment her looking her up and down before getting into the car as she opened the passenger door for you. She gets in the drivers seat and starts driving down the block.

Her hand moves closer to yours fingers itching to touch yours “So where are we going?” you ask her looking at her. She shrugs “Only the best place ever” her hand moves closer to yours slowly, almost scared to make the first move.

You grab her hand playing with her fingers “Please tell me come on” you beg her, she turns her head to look at you before holding your hand in your lap.

“We’re going to this arcade it’s so fun trust me ma” KK says squeezing your hand. You nod it was like KK to take you somewhere childish like an arcade, you were still excited to have fun and play with the girl.

The whole car ride down to the arcade you could feel how excited Kamora was, it eased your nerves significantly. After the ten minute drive of the two of you talking about childhood memories at the arcade. She parks the car and runs to your side opening the door for you “Come on hurry” KK says grabbing your hand dragging you inside. She quickly buys two cards with tokens for the two of you.

KK couldn’t shut up about how she used to play the basketball game with her friends as a kid, the whole way to the place. Letting go of your hand she swipes both your cards “Ready one two- go” KK says starting to shoot the balls in the hoop scoring over and over. You follow her and shoot the balls as fast as you can trying to score.

By the end of the game KK won 58-45 and you groan “Okay this is not far you a D1 basketball player and I’m not, that’s cheating” you complain pouting yo at the girl. She mimicked you “You did good come let get tickets so I can win you a stuffed bear” she says dragging you to another game.

The both of you go back forth versing each other in any game you can and winning tons of tokens. You spin a wheel with KK crossing her fingers behind you jumping up and down on her two feet, anxiously “one thousand please please please” she says aloud closing her eyes when the wheel starts to stop.

“OH MY GOD OH MY GOD WE WON WE WON” You cheer clapping your hands, KK reluctantly moves her hands from her eyes and smiles hugging you “We did it we’re so lucky” she says grabbing the tickets falling out of the machine.

You smile and you guys grab your tickets and go over to the front desk. The worker grabs them and points at a shelf filled with giant stuffed animals. KK looks over at you for a moment remembering you saying how much you loved bears. She wraps her arm around your waist pointing to the big brown teddy bear “That one please” KK says looking down at you for confirmation.

The worker hands you the teddy bear and the two of you walk out of the arcade, you struggling behind her holding a teddy bear half the size of you. KK opens the back door grabbing the bear from you and putting the teddy bear inside before looking down at you.

She licks her lips her hand coming to hold your cheek “I had a lot of fun today” she admits looking down at your lips subtly. You nod “Yeah me too” you say quietly looking down her lips before moving closer. She follows your actions and slowly closes the gab between you too.

Her lips touch your softly and she tastes like cherry chapstick, you grab her bicep your lips moving against hers perfectly.

You pull away slowly your noses touching “I really like you KK like a lot” you say softly bring your lip as you wait for her response. A smirk forms on her face “I really like you too ma” she says planting another kiss on your lips quickly.

That was the day your relationship with her first started, and you had your first kiss with her.

@lcufeymuse your KK request 🥳

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Summer Breeze 7

Warnings: age gap (reader is 22, Andrew is mid 40s), dad’s friend, Andy being Andrew, other dark elements. As usual, be mindful of your content consumption.

I also beg of you to leave me some tuppence in the form of a comment and/or reblog. You are cherished!

Enjoy, my loverlies.

Andy returns in the afternoon. The day is a void in your mind. You don’t feel as if any time has passed at all yet you know you’ve been waiting for hours. Sitting, pacing, watching. You’re dizzy, almost dazed, as you can’t settle enough to stay still. 

As you stare at your father’s unmoving body, your ears filled with the noise of pumping and beeping machine, Andy nudges you gently. He holds out some clothes. Yours. You recognise the rainbow striped shirt and faded denim. You thank him and shuffle out to change. You know you need to put something on. Your skin is speckled in goosebumps in the ever-frigid hospital. 

You pull on the shorts and the shirt and ball up your bikini, keeping the hoody slung over your forearm. You go back to your dad’s room and offer Andy his sweater. He waves you off and tells you to keep it. His blue eyes focus on the bed, a furrow between his brows. 

“Anyone come check on him?” He asks. 

“The nurse, a couple times,” you answer. “No change.” 

“Mm, alright,” he rubs the side of his nose, “I got your bag in the car. Tried to grab what I could.” 

“Oh, my phone?” You wonder. 

“Yeah, uh, I popped it in there. Wanna go get it?” He looks up at last, his irises almost glazed over. 

“No, I don’t need it right now,” you shrug. You don’t have the energy for all that. 

“You call your mom?” 

He’s such a dad. It almost feels good though. Having someone looking out for you. 

“Yeah, she’s... she can’t come,” you bite your lower lip and try not to show your agitation.  

“Mm, yeah, I know they weren’t on the best terms,” Andy rasps. “You hungry at all? I walked past the cafeteria. Could at least grab a coffee? Since you don’t drink, I think they have tea?” 

You consider him then peek over at your dad. What’s a couple minutes. You’re starting to suffocate in here. You nod. There’s nothing else to do but wait. 

Andy gestures you ahead of him and catches up to you outside the room. He guides you to the elevator and takes you a few floors down. He leaves you to sit at a table and heads off in search of food. You cradle your head in your hands as you stare at the scratch surface of the table. 

You jolt up as he clatters a tray down across from you. He gives an apologetic smile and dolls out the goods. 

“Chamomile,” he places a paper cup in front of you, “tylenol.” He puts the travel tube down, “my head is splitting, how about yours?” 

“Uh, yeah,” you take the pills and rattle them before pushing down on the childlock, “actually, it kills.” 

You toss back the tablets as he continues to sort out the tray, “jello,” he puts a cup in front of both of you, “turkey club? That’s the special, I guess, and... coleslaw.” He lifts the top slice of bread on his sandwich and curls his lip, “not much colour to it.” 

“Food,” you say flatly and blow over the chamomile. “I’m not very hungry but... tired.” 

“Yeah,” he agrees, “we’ll get through it. Just need to be patient.” 

He sounds sure, but compared to you, anyone sounds like they know what they’re doing. You sip from the tea and trade the cup for a spoon and the container of jello. Grape. You eat it mechanically. It tastes like cough syrup. 

Andy takes small, tight bites. Several times you catch him staring. You shift and leave the jello unfinished. 

“What?” You ask. 

“Nothing,” he says as he swallows, “I just... you okay? Aside from the obvious?” 

You frown, “I don’t know.” 

“You look... a little... well, I slept like shit too.” 

“Oh, hah, yeah, I probably look like crap,” you snort. 

“Wouldn’t say that,” he counters. “Just tired. I...” He takes a breath as he measures his thoughts, “you’re a good daughter.” 

“Mm, I guess. I don’t know,” you lift the sandwich. The bread is stale. “Always felt like a burden but he did what he could.” 

“He’s going to wake up,” Andy promises, “but you can’t take care of him if you don’t care of you. So eat...” he looks down, “I know it’s not gourmet but like you said, it’s food.” 

“Step up from one dollar ramen,” you mutter. 

You eat all but the dry crust and only have a taste of the tangy coleslaw. You finish the tea before Andy dumps the remnants in the trash and returns, standing with a hand on his hip. You get up and zip the hoodie as you hug yourself. You head back to the elevator, anxious to get back to your dad. 

As you enter his room, there’s a nurse by his bed. You see his hand move, the tube tangled at his wrist, and you rush forward. Andy stays by the door as you stop by the bed rail. 

“Dad,” you babble, “dad...” 

“He’s still a bit groggy,” the nurse says as she holds a styrofoam cup with a straw up to him. Your dad growls and turns his head away, “come on, Douglas, you need to drink.” 

“Mm, mm,” he continues to evade the straw. His eyes bulge out as he looks at you.  

You lean forward and your heart throbs, “dad?” 

“Eh, kiddo,” he gurgles out and smiles, then cringes and falls back. 

“Dad!” You exclaim. 

“Douglas, come on and drink,” the nurse pleads then glances over at you, “here,” she holds out the cup, “get him to finish that, alright?” 

You nod and accept it shakily. You call to your dad again and rub his arm, “hey, dad, you want some water?” 

His eyes skim back to you and he squints. He sits up as straight as he can and you put the straw to his lips. He drinks, just a little, and the nurse exhales. 

“I’ll be back,” she says before she flits off. 

Andy approaches in her absence and you coax your dad to keep drinking. 

“Hey, Doug, good to see ya,” he pats your dad’s hand gently, though his voice is barely more discernible than your father’s. 

[m0nsterqzzz]

Pretty and Smart

pairing: Wanda Maximoff x gn!reader

summary: Wanda has a fear of the dentist, but what about when she wants to start dating one?

warnings: mentions of drugs (anesthesia), swearing, injurys (tooth injurys), such a shitty ending cuz i'm terrible at writing endings, needles

a/n: completely inspired by the fact that i got three teeth removed yesterday and flirted with my 20 year older nurse lol. literally everything that Wanda says while waking up is from videos my sister took of me.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Wanda's eyes almost start glowing red as Natasha forces her through the medical room door. This part of the medical wing is filled with all types of necessities for a dentist to perform regular check ups, surjurys, or any other type of appointment that an Avenger would need. 

Tony hired the best dentist he could find and that worries Wanda a bit as usually that means they’re pretty with no brain. That’s not the only thing that worries her though. Her long lasting fear of being put under anesthesia is coming out quite quickly as the time for her appointment to get two teeth pulled from inside her gums approaches. She locked herself in her room a bit ago, but she should have remembered that her best friend is a retired spy.

“Please just help me out here Wanda! I don’t want to be late to my date with Maria!” Natasha complains, practically shoving her friend through the door. “I thought it was bros before hoes Nat?! What happened to that?!” “We graduated from middle school Wanda! That's what happened!”

You’re filling out some paperwork when Natasha finally gets Wanda into the room, and the way you smile at her doesn’t help with the butterflies in her stomach. “This is my friend Wanda. She’s here for her appointment. Bye.” Natasha says before leaving, and Wanda is about to send a ball of red energy her way before the door closes. 

Your eyes widen at her magic and she smiles nervously as it fades. “Sorry.” You chuckle, standing up from the desk and holding a hand out for her to shake. “You’re fine. What’s your name sweetie?” You ask, subtly leading her to sit on the chair. “I’m Wanda. Wanda Maximoff. And your…..you're the dentist Tony hired?” “Well yes. I work at a dentist office in the city and Mr. Stark came in looking for someone. I need the extra work. Sorry….I’m rambling.”

She shakes her head, sitting down in the chair as she smiles at you. “Don’t be sorry. It’s making me feel better.” Her nerves are slowly fading the more you flash your bright smile at her, but their right back when you pick up something from the side tray.

Your smile slightly falters when her fingertips start glowing red, but it stays in order to help comfort her. “You’re alright dear. It's just a pulse oximeter. I’m going to put it on your pointer finger in order to help me keep track of the absorbed oxygen into your red blood cells.” She doesn’t understand what that means, but she begins to slowly relax as you explain every machine you're connecting to her body. A blood pressure cuff, an ankle monitor to track her heart rate, a wrist monitor to do the same, and then you wheel over the IV rod with a type of liquid anesthesia that will go from the rod, through a plastic tube, and into her bloodstream in order to sedate her while you work on her teeth. The moment she sees the needle, her eyes flash red. 

You scoot your chair back a little, a nervous smile overtaking you as you remove the needle from her eyesight. “Okay honey, calm down. It’s just a needle. It’s gonna be a gentle little poke and then a very tiny plastic tube is going to go in your arm which will let the liquid anesthesia flow to your blood and sedate you. That way, it only feels like you're asleep for one second and you won’t feel the pain.” She shakes her head, beginning to sit up until you place a gentle hand on her arm. “Miss Maximoff, would you like me to get one of your friends?” She takes a deep breath, forcing the red to fade from her eyes as she lays back down. “I’m a grown woman. I can handle this.” 

You sigh, placing the needle down on the tray as you look at her. “It’s okay to be scared Wanda. In fact, I have many patients that come in here and get scared. It’s natural and you’re allowed to feel scared. Even superheroes don't have to be strong all the time.” This brings a small smile to her face, and she nods.

“Hold my hand? I’m kind of nervous.” You ask and she holds your hand that won’t be holding the needle. She knows you're nowhere near scared of piercing her with a needle, but she’s glad you didn’t exactly call her out. You call in a nurse that was around in case you couldn't perform one of your duties to put in the IV so that you can continue to hold her hand as the nurse does so.

Before you instruct the nurse to pick up the needle,  you grab a mask that connects to some sort of machine and hold it in front of her face. “This is laughing gas. I’m sorry I forgot about it. It’ll make you less nervous.” This seems to completely relax her, and you place the mask over her nose. She can still talk through her mouth, but you instruct her to close it and take deep breaths through her nose. “It smells like syrup. Maple syrup.” She notes, and you can tell that’s not a bad thing by the way she grins at you. While you wait a few minutes for that to take effect, you talk to her about anything and everything. What you had for breakfast that morning, the weather outside, the way your car broke down on the side of the road on your way here, a book you’ve been reading the past few days, or how cocky Tony is.

“Wow. Pretty and smart.” She mumbles, and you look at her with a confused smile. “Pardon?” “Nothing. Just talking to myself.”

Eventually, she looks at the needle and nods. “I’m ready.” You smile, nodding for the nurse to put in the IV as you continue to stroke the back of her hand with your thumb.

A few minutes later, you have the IV in her arm with a very minimal amount of tears. “Very good job sweetie. You did great.” You could have swore a blush coats her face, but that must just be the laughing gas.

It's only a few minutes later that her eyes close and her breathing evens out, and you take a moment to admire her before grabbing the first tool from the tray. When you go to tell the nurse she can leave, she's smirking at you. “What? What's wrong?” 

“You think your patient’s cute.” She laughs, and you shake your head quickly. “No. That's unprofessional.” “Okay “sweetie"” She mocks the nickname you just used on the Avenger. “The last time a patient asked to hold your hand, you panicked and forced me to do it.” You glare at her, pointing one hand to the door as you start working on extracting the teeth. “Out Vanessa. I'll call you when I need you.” “Alright Dr. Love.” “That is the stupidest nickname you've ever had for me V. Get out.”

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

About an hour later, you've finished extracting the teeth and sewed her gums back together. They were all on the left side of her mouth, so she'll be able to eat a lot easier if she just uses the other side.

You clean up as you wait for her to wake up, and you sit back down next to her when she begins stirring. The first thing she does is send you a dopey smile and then hang her head to the side so it's falling off the headrest. “No. Don’t do that sweetie. Don’t wanna hurt your neck.” You reposition her head to gently lay it back down, but she just lets it fall again making you chuckle. “Fine. I’ll be right back.” You leave for a few seconds, coming back with a wheelchair and kneeling at her side. “Okay Wanda. I’m gonna help get you in this wheelchair so when your friend comes she can easily get you back to your room okay?” She nods, but makes no attempt to move as she asks, “Do you have balloons?” You giggle, looking around the room before giving her a sympathetic smile. “No. I’m sorry but we do not have any balloons.” The frown on her face is a little sad and the tears that form make you want to go buy her a balloon from the store.

“How about this….” You grab a glove from the counter, then hold it up to your mouth as you blow as hard as you can into it. It’s not easy and it doesn’t get very big, but the smile on her face is worth it as you tie it up and hand it to her. 

While you're grabbing something from the desk, she drops it on the side of her bed, and tears fill her eyes again as she tries to get up- which is more like her flopping her body to the side. You look at her, rushing to her side and gently pushing her to lay back down with a chuckle. “And where do you think you’re going missy?” She groans, pointing to the floor. A tear falls down her face, but they stop the moment you pick it up and hand it back to her. 

“Alright honey, let's get you into the wheelchair.” You begin helping her sit up and then stand up fully, but she shoves your arms off and gives you a lazy scoff as she mumbles, “I’m a big girl. I can do it myself.” You giggle, watching for a second as she wobbles and then looks back to you. “Why aren’t you helping me?” “You told me not to!” “You’re a mean doctor!” You laugh even harder, placing one of her arms over your shoulders as you help her sit in the chair.

When you go to put her feet in the stirrups, she mumbles something incoherent before tapping your shoulder. “Why are you taking my legs doctor lady?” You snigger. “I’m not stealing them, I'm putting them in the stirrups so they don’t drag on the floor and hurt you honey.” She doesn’t seem to understand you as she groans once again and taps your shoulder again. “I need those! I’m a superhero! I need those to save the world!” You finish putting her feet up correctly and then nod. “You’re right. My bad sweetie.” She huffs and nods like you finally said something correct and then grins at you. “What are you grinning at?” “You’re pretty. Are you single doctor lady?” 

Her words take you by surprise, and you look to the window to hide the blush on your cheeks. “Yes. I am single. Why do you ask honey?” “Because I wanna take you out to dinner obviously!” “Obviously.”

You're cleaning some of the tools when she suddenly says, "I like woman and men. Women are pretty don't you think?" You chuckle. "Yes I think women are pretty."

She doesn’t say anything for a few minutes, and you're sure it's because she’s fallen back asleep until she speaks with a giggle, “Look!”

You look away from the file you were reading to look at her, and you watch with wide eyes as she sends a ball of red magic crashing through the window. “Wanda!” Her eyes also widen, and tears fill her eyes as she pouts. “I…..I’m sorry sweetie. I didn’t mean to yell okay? But that’s dangerous. Don’t do it again.” The smile is immediately back and she forms another red blast which you quickly place your hands over to stop. “No.” She nods. “No.” She repeats which makes you instantly melt.

A few minutes later, her friend reappears and asks Wanda, “So did you ask?” The younger girl frowns in confusion as do you, and the redhead woman smirks at you. “She told me with her mind while I was on a date that she wanted to ask you out. Did she do it?” You feel a warm blush coating your cheeks as you shake your head. “Kind of. She’s very high. I didn’t think she meant it. And besides, I don’t date patients.” 

She nods, taking the handles of the wheelchair and beginning to wheel the young girl out of the office. Before they reach the door, Wanda calls out quite loudly, “Send me your maple syrup recipe, pretty doctor lady!”

They continue walking out of the medical wing, and you're left with a permanent blush on your face as you think about Wanda Maximoff.

That night, you’re laying in bed when you get a text from an unknown number. It’s three videos of Wanda, two of them her rambling about how pretty you are, and one crying because her friend refused to stop at the Mexican restaurant and get her a taco to blend into a shake. You laugh, looking at the last text that reads, “She literally cried in the gas station because she couldn’t find the toilet and didn’t want my help. Next time I’ll leave her with you until the anesthesia wears off - Natasha”

You chuckle, sending back a quick laughing emoji and asking how the young girl is doing. “She’s okay. She refuses to get rid of the balloon you gave her and will not stfu about you.” This brings a smile to your face and you text back and forth with the Avenger for a while before falling asleep with your phone in hand.

A week passes, and you text back and forth with Natasha at least once a day to check on Wanda. You have to admit that you miss the funny girl, but you're standing by the rule you made that you cannot date patients. 

You’re leading a ten year old patient to his mothers car after his oral surgery when you see something that makes you smile in confusion. Wanda is standing up against a in the parking lot, seemingly aggressively texting someone. You help the boy into the car and watch the car leave the parking lot before going back inside. If Wanda needs something, she’ll come in and ask for it.

It’s only about three minutes before she does, and the cold air of winter enters the building as she walks through the main door. You’re standing at the front desk looking through a file with one of the nurses when she walks up to the desk with hesitant steps. “Wanda. How are you, dear?” She nods, babbling on for a second before she clears her throat and mutters, “I’m alright.”

You don’t have any more patients for a few minutes, so you walk around the desk so you're standing in front of her. “That’s good. So…..I’m not saying it’s not nice to see you but why are you here? Did something happen with your stitches?” She shakes her head, gently lifting up her lip to show you the still intact stitches that are allowing her gums to heal back together. “I’m here because well…..I chipped my tooth.” She holds a hand behind her back as she opens her mouth to show you that on the other side of her mouth is in fact a chipped tooth. You sigh, thinking over your schedule before you tell her. “Maybe I can give you a filling this afternoon. Come back at 1pm Miss. Maximoff.” She smiles brightly at you and nods, waving you off as she leaves the office. For someone who's afraid of anything to do with the dentist, she seems quite excited to have another procedure.

Wanda goes back to the compound to wait the next few hours, and when her best friend comes in to ask why she went to the doctors she casually states, “Because I chipped my tooth.” “What? No you didn’t. You would have told me and then I would have had to force you to go to the dentist.” Natasha laughs as she eats from her bowl of ice cream. When Wanda doesn’t respond, she laughs even harder and questions, “Wanda Maximoff, tell me you did not purposely chip your tooth so you can have more time with that doctor.” The witch groans, turning around to face her friend. “I used magic to do it so i didn’t really hurt!” She says it as if that's any better. “Wanda! You used your magic to give that poor doctor even more work to do?! Why can’t you just grow some balls and ask them out?” “Okay first of all, “grow some balls”? What are we, in middle school? And second of all, I will. Once I get my chipped tooth fixed.” “The one you chipped on purpose!”

Later that day, you finish filling Wanda's chipped tooth and then tell her, “The numbing gel will take a bit to wear off and then you may feel a bit of pain but not as much as you feel on your stitches okay?” She nods, sitting up in the chair and sending you an awkward smile. You lead her to the front desk, and leave for a few moments before coming back with a blown up glove. The child-like grin that shows up on her face is priceless. “Thank you!” “Anytime Miss Maximoff. Now, I hope you have a great day and watch that tooth!”

Now, when you said “anytime”, you didn’t mean anytime. Apparently, Wanda didn’t get this memo as she was back three weeks later. “Wanda! What a surprise! What brings you to my office today?” She smiles nervously, opening her mouth to show you the chipped tooth on the top row of her teeth this time. You sigh, already looking in the computer to schedule her an appointment for the next day. “That's two chipped teeth in one month. What happened honey?” She shrugs, thinking for a few seconds before she tells you, “I was eating a bagel this morning and it just suddenly broke!” “Right. Well, you can come back at 11am tomorrow and I’ll fill it. But you have to be more careful alright sweetie?” She nods, smiling at you before practically running out the door.

Over the next few months, you had Wanda Maximoff in your office a total of 13 times. You literally started keeping track. Whether it was toothaches, her habit of grinding her teeth, a chipped tooth, or to bring you lunch at one point, you talked to the Avenger at least every two weeks.

Today, it’s been about a week since you saw Wanda when she came in complaining about a pain in her jaw. You begin to wonder how she pays for this many dentist appointments, but that thought is quickly resolved when she wrote you a check with a whole lot of 0’s without hesitation a few months ago.

Today, you’re eating lunch in the break room after giving a screaming 12 year old oral surgery and Vanessa comes in with a smirk. “Your girlfriends here.” “My girlfriend? I don’t have a girlfriend V.” She shrugs, pointing to the hallway which leads to the front as she teases, “The woman that comes in with a different tooth problem every few weeks- which is much more than anyone should have to go to the dentist by the way- isn’t your girlfriend?” You roll your eyes and stand up, but you can’t help the blush that grows on your face as you think about the Maximoff girl. “Shut up V.” 

You walk to the front of the office building with your salad in hand, smiling brightly as the back of the redhead who's sitting in a chair reading a magazine. “Hey witchy. What brings you here today?” She stumbles off the chair and grins at you. “Hi! I’m here because……because…..because my friend chipped a tooth!” A man with blond hair and big strong arms looks up from his book and gives the girl a confused look. “No I didn’t-” He cuts himself off with a loud groan and brings a hand up to hold his cheek. “What the hell Wanda?” You stare at the pair for a few seconds before he suddenly narrows his eyes as Wanda and states. “No way. I’m not letting you do this anymore.”

Her eyes widen, but it’s too late to do anything as he tells you, quite loudly might I add, “Wanda has a crush on you but has been too baby to say anything so she's been using her magic to fake tooth injuries!” You're silent for a few minutes, and Wanda seems to be getting more nervous by the seconds as she won't make eye contact with you. 

Suddenly, you begin to giggle, which turns into a chuckle which turns into a full on laugh. There's only one patient other than them here and he looks up at you weirdly as you practically stop breathing with laughter. Wanda begins to nervously chuckle, still not making eye contact with you as she asks, “Wha- um…what's funny?”

You stop laughing, taking a bite of your salad as you tell her, “Well Wanda Maximoff, I’ve been flirted with a lot of times by patients, but never once has a patient faked an injury and actually gotten away with it. Props to you honey.” You hold your hand up for a high five, and she awkwardly high fives you. “Along with that, never once has it worked. Their flirting I mean.” “And mine didn’t either?” You sigh, looking to the front desk where all the nurses and doctors are watching you. “Go back to work!” you mouth (not that any of them listen though). “Wanda….sweetie…..I don’t date patients.” She sighs, nodding her head as her friend rubs her back reassuringly. A pen is thrown at your head from one of the other doctors making you silently groan and rub your head. “But….”

Her head snaps up and a hopeful grin takes over her face. “But?” “But if you wait 6 months for our doctor patient relationship to be terminated, I’ll let you take me out on a date.” If possible, her smile gets bigger and she nods, sticking out her hand for you to shake. “Deal?” “Deal.” You shake her hand, but you're quickly pulled into a bone crushing hug.

Wanda Maximoff is an interesting girl. You knew that when she came in for her first appointment a blew a hole through the office window, or when she kept breaking tooth after tooth. There's nothing wrong with being interesting though, as it just gives you a million other things to learn about the girl. Which you did over time when her patient doctor relationship with you finally terminated and she took you on a total of six dates in one month. You learned she's a romance girl, which only continued the longer you guys dated. You learned she cries over dog movies even if they have a happy ending, you learned about her brother Pietro and that every year on the night before their birthday, she sits outside with two plates of cake- one for her, and one for him- as the clock strikes twelve. You learned she loves cooking and baking, and that she can’t paint to save her life. She has flaws, and she's not afraid to admit them as long as you're not afraid to admit yours. And that's only a few reasons why you love her.

[starlightsuffered]

Long Healed

Info - worker and boss relationship, worker reader, self harm scars, injury

I was racing around the Candy room. When Willy was really focused, he was like a surgeon. He’d call out for something and I’d need to grab it immediately and hand it to him.

“Maple leaf picked on the fifteenth day of fall,” he requested.

I went to the plants section and looked by day and type. When I got back the concoction was a lilac colour and the steam was coming up in cumulus looking clouds.

“Here,” I handed it to him. He grabbed it with tweezers.

It was wild because he even looked dashing in his lab coat and those ridiculous safety goggles.

“Tuft of hair from the beard of the 13th Billy goat in the flock,” Willy asked next.

I got the fluff and handed it to him. He took it and it made the candy mixture smell like spice. He was stirring carefully.

Other pipettes were boiling with other mixtures. I could hear the ticks and whirs of other devices working. Something in the corner was creating a new version of fairy floss. Taffy was being pulled by the stretching machine.

It was always so warm and cozy in here compared to the frigid outdoors. It was comfortable and homey. I was glad Willy had asked me to live here. I hadn’t had much of a place to stay before now. I also knew he lived here, and having someone else in the large factory made me happy.

I hadn’t had the most pleasant life. Things had been very hard before I’d been hired by Willy. I often thought of him as an angel. He was always so sweet and gentle with me. He forwarded my soverigns when I needed, and if I broke things he didn’t take it out or my paycheck.

“Please stir this while I prepare the dry ingredients,” Wonka requested.

“Yes sir,” I agreed readily.

I began to turn the spoon counterclockwise as he had. I hummed lightly as I did it. I looked over at the wall. I noticed the artists rendition of Willy’s mother. She had the best smile. I always wished I knew someone in my childhood who smiled that way at me. I would have liked to have met her. Willy was always saying she would have liked me. I always felt so warm and fuzzy when he said that sort of thing to me.

Suddenly, glass shattered. The noise startled me and I knocked over a pipette. The jelly like pink and white bubbles soared out of the tube and splattered on the floor. I felt a sharp pain as jagged pieces sliced into my arm.

“I’m sorry,” was the first thing I thought to say. Willy had rushed over to see the mess. I was horrified by how I’d destroyed his recipe.

“No, it’s okay, I’m just worried because you’re bleeding,” Willy said anxiously.

“Oh Mr. Wonka, I'm fine really,” I replied anxiously moving to hide my wrist. He gently took it back. He smoothed his thumb over my marred skin, eyes opened wider in shock.

He must have seen the the scars that hadn’t faded very well. He didn’t say anything. He made sure to get a bandage and wet cloth along with a salve to ward off infection.

He cleaned the wound, and next he used soft movements to apply the ointment. Finally, he wrapped my arm with the bandage and tied it off. It was just right, not too loose and not too tight.

“There you are,” he smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He held my arm a little longer, his face getting sadder and sadder.

“You don’t have to tell me, but I’d like to know what all these other scars are from,” he murmured.

His radiant green orbs met mine. I bit the inside of my lip. I turned away from him. The intensity of his gaze was too much.

“I-I wasn’t always as happy as I was here,” I finally admitted. “I felt like the only person to take that out on…..was myself.”

“Oh, y/n,” Willy’s voice was filled with sorrow and ache.

“I haven’t done it in a while. I’m almost a year clean. I am sorry you had to see that,” I told him solemnly.

“You’ve got nothing to apologise for,” Willy told me quietly. His face dipped down and his lips touched the thicker skin. He kept his mouth there longer than I’d expected.

“I don’t want to overstep, but if you ever need a person to talk to when you feel that way; I am here,” he told me.

I finally turned back to meet his eyes. I felt full of gratitude and love. He was the kindest man I’d ever met.

“Thank you Willy, those cuts are long healed, but it feels like you just sealed them even further,” I told him tearily.

“I am glad,” he beamed.

@pmak2002 @softhecreator @plutoispurplw @sp1deyyf4ngz @seungcheol17daddy @jesschalamet @vvsdreaming

[aziraphale-is-a-cat]

Planned Obsolescence

Pt 1

Danny liked to think he had made a life for himself outside of the hero gig, that he'd put down the metaphorical cape, gone to fancy engineering school, and landing himself a job at S.T.A.R. Labs.

So walking into the main lobby at 6am he was understandably a little unnerved to find a member of the Justice League there, waiting for him.

"Dr. Fenton!" His boss called him over from where she'd been chatting with the new guests. "We've been waiting for you, come with us."

Danny was suddenly extremely uncomfortable, part of the main hero force of his home dimension was suddenly staring at him intently. If they'd been tipped off about his dead-ness then he was in a whole world of trouble.

"Uh, Dr. Norris, what exactly is going on?" He asked, nervously.

"We'll discuss it in my office, follow me."

The slowly walk up to the office was a new type of torture, trying to push down his panic and watching the hero watch him from the corner of his eye.

With his supervisor and him were Nightwing and some random Dude who, while not in costume, still held himself with his shoulders squared and his stance wide in the same way.

The guy must've seen him staring and introduced himself. "I'm Ted Kord, I work as a, uh, civilian contractor with the Justice League."

Danny's eyes narrowed but he didn't voice his skepticism. "Damn, how do you even get a job like that?" Kord, that sounded familiar.

The guests all shared a look as they stepped into the office, Dr. Norris finding her seat behind her desk. "Well actually, that's what we came here for."

Danny was immediately on edge, he wasn't on good terms with the government already. He remembered in that moment where he remembered the name 'Kord' from.

"This is about my parents' work, isn't it?" He accused, continuing when he got no response. "You're from Kord Omniversal," he said to Kord, "You wouldn't go running to S.T.A.R. Labs, your competitor, unless we really had something you didn't." He let the silence stew.

Danny had put a lot of work distancing himself from the legacy of his parents, going so far as to pull most of their research from public access once he gained ownership of it after their deaths. It really bothered him to still be associated with them and their body of work now that he had a name for himself and a reputation he had built on his own.

Awkwardly, Nightwing stepped up to fill the silence, doing his best to ignore the mounting tension.

"We know you have your parents' complete research, but while we need that your expertise in building and designing," he gestured with his hands as he searched for the right word, "unique machines-"

"You want me to build you a portal." Danny interrupted shortly.

"To another dimension, yes." Nightwing responded, cringing a little.

Danny rubbed the bridge of his nose, wishing to the ancients that he could just run off and be a hermit in the mountains. Appalachia would work well, a healthy supernatural community for occasional social interactions and minimal contact with stupid fucking humans.

"What would I get out of it?"

"Money, government contract, that looks good on a resume." Kord responded.

He looked to Dr. Norris, pleading with his eyes for a reason not to take it.

"Dr. Fenton taking on a contract with the Justice League would open up some in demand employment opportunities for you here at S.T.A.R. Labs, positions with better pay and access to better materials." She pushed him a manilla folder smiling, and when he opened it Danny saw contract pre-written, addressed to him.

He snapped it shut and took a deep breath to ground himself. "Where do you wanna go?"

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Being picked up for work via Zeta Tube was a new brand of surreal, even for a Teen-Hero Turned Engineer.

The automated voice called out his designation, "G-09: Daniel Fenton", as he stepped into his new temporary laboratory. The workspace was top of the line, and lined with cameras. The constant surveillance was going to make this very hard, seeing as he's now stuck with staying humans the whole time, and is no doubt going to be bugged going home.

Something was sketchy about this whole ordeal. Danny hadn't seen hide nor hair of any of the other members of the Justice League, and even though he's handling a task drenched in the occult, he hadn't had to consult any League Affiliated occultists.

Batman was notorious for going through research and experiments with a fine tooth comb, and yet Danny hadn't been called in to explain himself nor the obvious holes in the material he submitted to them, intentionally omitting parts both to keep the more dangerous parts out of government hands and to see where he stood.

And it appears he stood at the crossroads- holding, though his unique and specialized knowledge, all the cards. Nightwing was desperate, something had at least a few of the more senior members out of contact, including whoever they had that knew anything about magic and the multiverse. And it had everything to do with what was on the other side of the portal they wanted him to build.

Any magician worth their own ass knew that mechanical portals outside their own group of dimensions, known as a format due to their similarity in inhabitants and history, never fucking work. Spell portals were the only type that ever made it out, and it took an exceptionally strong caster to open one for even a few seconds.

Any portal trying to leave would just find themselves in the hub, the space between dimensions in a format, same as any portal without a destination or goal which is why it was relatively easy for the Fentons to punch a hole into the Infinite Realms.

As it stood Nightwing really should know that what he was asking of Danny should by all means be impossible.

He purposefully set his file box down on his desk Infront of a hidden camera, it would be hard to work around later when he needed the space but it was worth it to make his point. He knew he was being watched. And he didn't like it.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Walking into the nearly empty conference room, Dick Grayson slid onto the table and laid down. Being alone with some friends in the watchtower free to sit on the fancy, expensive surfaces however he wished sounded like childhood Dick's dream, but now it was just depressing.

"You know you're taking a massive risk with this one, right?" Cyborg asked from the head of the table. "I know our options aren't too great, but this is just miserable."

"Cy, we are beyond the point of miserable."

The half machine groaned and put his head in his hands. "Constantine would shoot us for even trying this bullshit, first for mixing tech and magic, then again for hiring a Fenton!"

"Yeah well, the blonde bastard is stuck with the rest of the League on the ruins of fucking Azarath, and Dr. Fate fucked off to whatever he's deemed more important than us so there's not much by the way of options!"

Cyborg massaged his temples. "This guy's tech is off." He pulled out the papers Dr. Fenton had submitted on his research. "I know confronting him about the inconsistencies will just scare him off, but it's not just that! The tech he brought in, I tried interfacing with it and it just repelled me. There's something wrong with it."

Nightwing rolled his head over to look at him critically. "Something magic? Something interdimensional? Because if so that's what we hired him for."

Cyborg opened his mouth to respond but at that moment a bright flash of light filled the room as The Flash zipped into the room.

"Hey so I know you guys told me to check out his old home for signs of that portal, but the whole place is fucking weird."

[dfortrafalgar]

I'm Losing You... (But We're Filling the Cracks)

Having a family isn't always as easy as fairy tales make it seem. But now, it might as well be a dream come true.

Warnings: read chapter 1 for warnings.

Taglist: @phsycochan | @mirillua | @augustanna | @chaixsherlock | @whore-of-many-hot-men | @nerdisthenewcool | @lilypadmomentum | @1dkneo | @kitsunechan707

Chapter 31

[Prev] [Next]

“I… I feel like I need to push,” you grunted out.

Your doctor ran to your bedside.  “Okay, dear, okay, follow my lead, alright?”  She assisted in turning you on your side, adjusting your various tubes to better accommodate your position.  “Like we discussed, okay?  This position will help reduce the pressure on your pelvis and make it much easier to push.”

You nodded, your expression contorting in a grimace as a much stronger contraction ran through you in waves, lingering in your muscles like radiation. Your hands were curled up by your head, lacking anything to hold on to, so you resorted to fisting the white cotton sheets covering the mattress below you.  It felt mildly uncomfortable, but as soon as you were settled, you felt like your muscles were able to work much more effectively.  You breathed out a pained sigh, the pressure in your lower abdomen increasing in waves.

“You’re starting to crown already,” another nurse spoke up.  “Your body is already so primed for delivery!  It’s like you’ve been practicing.  If I didn’t know any better, I’d assume this was your third or fourth baby!”

“I’m going to hold your hand, alright?” your doctor asked, confirming with you on what would make you the most comfortable.  “How bad is your pain?  We can get you started on an epidural.”

“It’s…”  As soon as the contraction ceased, another one followed in its place.  You were outrageously close.  “It’s pretty bad,” you confirmed.

“I’m impressed, when I gave birth to my first, I almost passed out.  The pain was so bad!” one of the nurses at the other side of your room called out.  “You have quite the tolerance!”

You flashed a weak smile.  If only these nurses knew.

Your doctor rubbed your head reassuringly.  She really did feel like a mother in her own right.  “We’ll start that epidural.  Once that’s in place and you’re stable, we’ll begin pushing.  Can I get you anything?”

Your eyes wearily glanced up at her calm, reassuring face.  “I know it’s a long shot but… can you call my husband?”

—

The second lung was almost fully detached.  Over halfway through the surgery now, it had been much faster and more successful than anyone thought it would be.  Alongside a few breaks that were taken by the staff to relieve themselves and stretch their backs, sterile orange juice breaks sipped through plastic straws, and brief physical therapy for the unconscious patient to make sure his blood continued to circulate properly and his skin wasn’t damaged, the operation was going very, very smoothly.

And thank goodness.  Law needed some good news right now.

Among the beeping sounds of the patient’s heart monitor, the wrrr of the bypass machine, and the soft chatter amongst the team as they worked, a new sound infiltrated the space.  In the farthest corner of the room, Law’s hospital pager went off.

“What was that?” one of the nurses asked.

“My pager,” Law responded.  His voice was laced with anxiety.  He was barely keeping it together, and who knows why his pager might have been going off in the middle of an operation.

The circulating nurse took it upon herself to snatch up the small device, pressing the response button.  The best, or arguably worst, thing about the pagers was how loud they were.  Everyone could hear the voice that came through the other end.

[Dr. Trafalgar Law?  Dr. Trafalgar?]  It was a woman’s voice.

“I’m listening,” he shouted back.  The nurse stepped slightly closer with the pager in her hand.

[This is Nurse Kaya from Labor & Delivery, your wife is crowning.  Just wanted to let you know.]

Spoken far too casually for the news that made Law’s stomach drop like a brick.  He was missing the birth.

“FUCK,” he suddenly shouted, his hands still carefully working at the lung’s connective tissue.  It was as if his body and his mind were on completely different wavelengths.  So much for operating room etiquette.  The air in the room had gone completely cold as nervous glances among the team were shared.

“Doctor, I’m not opposed to relieving you with another on-call surgeon.  I know this is a huge ordeal, but we’re almost done and… this is a special case,” one of the head nurses spoke up.

He was clearly deliberating heavily in his mind.  He wanted to run, carry himself as fast as his feet could handle, and get to your side.  He needed to be there with you.  He was missing the birth of his first child.  A lump developed in his throat.  The protective husband side of him had the stoic, focused surgeon side pinned against the wall with a knife to his throat.

“Get the on-call surgeon here immediately and have him gowned and sterilized,” he finally barked, passing his tools off to his assistant and stepping away from the body.  A few relieved gasps were shared amongst the team as the circulating nurse brought Law out from the theater and into the prep room where she assisted in frantically undressing him from his surgical scrubs and passing his phone and pager back into his possession.  His operating room attire was quickly disposed of in a biohazard waste bin while he quickly washed his hands in the nearby basin.

“Doctor, good luck,” she said with a smile, her eyes crinkling under her mask.

Law could only pass her a faint grin as he shrugged on his white coat, stuffed his phone in the pocket of his slacks, and sprinted out of the prep room.  On the way, the on-call surgeon passed by and planted a reassuring smack to Law’s shoulder before replacing him.

Law was breaking every hospital rule there was.  Sprinting through the hallway, his feet hammering against the tiled ground as he fought his way through the hospital’s expansive campus, past patient rooms, nurses’ stations, and waiting areas.  Why did L&D have to be so far away?!  His eyes followed the signs on the walls pointing him in the right direction, his muscle memory leading the way.  He scaled two flights of stairs two-at-a-time, the muscles in his legs screaming at him to stop.  He was almost positive he would tear a muscle with how fast he was running.  But that didn’t matter.

Finally, finally, he pushed through the doors into the maternity ward, flashing his badge frantically at the nurse behind the check-in desk.  He was panting, barely able to catch his breath, one of his hands shaking as it supported his weight against the desk.

“My… Trafalgar… where… shit…” he panted, beads of sweat pilling on his forehead below his ragged bangs.

“Down the hall, take a left, then a right,” the nurse instructed, her voice pleasantly calm.  She must have seen this a lot.

He barely uttered out a ‘thank you’ before he was off again, pounding down the tiled hallways past delivery and recovery rooms, past the expansive NICU and small groups of families and doctors.  He had tunnel vision.  He needed to get to you.

Take a left.

Then a right.

He almost sprinted past the door to the delivery room you were in, only backtracking when he caught the pained sound of your voice from within.  He flung the door open, nurses surrounding you jumping from shock at the sight.

“Dr. Trafalgar?!” one of them exclaimed, her eyes wide.

Law ignored her.

Your eyes went wide, your hand being held by the doctor who had admitted you.  Tears immediately brimmed in the corners of your vision as a pained smile broke out on your face.  Law took the spot of your doctor instantly, almost throwing himself at you as he littered your face with kisses, grasping your hand and holding in his pain as you squeezed harshly against his bones, the force of another contraction gripping your body.  You were laying on your side, one of your knees tucked upward toward your chest as far as you could manage to allow the baby more room to come out.  You had an epidural tube sticking out of your spine, your upper body barely covered by blankets and the open-back hospital gown to accommodate for the birth.

“You made it…” you wheezed, torn between the attention on your husband and the baby coming out of you.

“I couldn’t miss it… I couldn’t…” he wheezed.  He was still very winded, his lungs shuddering for breaths.  Any longer and he would’ve been the one needing a dual pulmonary transplant.

“Ready for another push?” shouted one of the nurses at your bedside above the noise.

You nodded, biting your lower lip.  Your face was glistening with sweat.  Your body tensed up, gripping Law’s hand like a lifeline as you pushed, a pained groan emanating from deep within your throat as your eyes pinched shut.

“How is she doing?” demanded Law, gazing at the doctor who took her spot at the end of your bed where your legs were parted.

“She’s doing great, both babies are in cephalic position, her blood pressure is good and her heart rate is even better, it’s unlikely she’ll need emergency intervention.  I’m incredibly pleased considering her medical history,” the older doctor explained.  “Come over here.”

Law gazed at you, a fond smile on your lips as you released his hand so he could join his extended colleague at the foot of your bed.

“Delivering on her side helps lessen the pressure on her body as well as the baby’s,” the woman explained.

Law’s breath caught in his throat.  Emerging from you was a head of fuzzy black hair, slicked with amniotic fluid.  One of the nurses called for another push, and your lower body tensed up, your muscles clenching as hard as they could while you pushed the baby out more.  Law quickly returned to your side, grasping your hand once more.

“Baby… how are you doing?” he asked, desperate for your personal opinion, his lungs finally settling as he took in your exhausted appearance.

You grimaced.  “The epidural has been helping, but it hurt like a bitch going in,” you groaned.  “I’ve been having contractions since 2 in the morning.  I just want them to be out already.”

“Once the head is delivered, the rest will be easy!” one of the nurses called, a bright smile on her face.

Law felt himself smile as well.  Being a delivery nurse must have been incredibly rewarding on the best days.  He glanced at the clock on the far wall.  It was almost 10 in the evening.  His heart panged in his chest.

“You’re doing amazing, baby, you’re amazing,” he whispered in your ear, planting another kiss against the soft, sweat-soaked skin of your forehead.

“One more push, dear!” the doctor called.

Your eyes squeezed shut, your muscles contracting with all your might at the count of the nurses assisting you, your hand clamping down on Law’s.  He held in his grimace of pain, supporting you as best he could.  Some slight hand bruises were nothing compared to what you were experiencing.  How chivalrous of him.

A sudden rushing feeling emanated from your body, a wet sensation prickling your skin through the numbness of the epidural.  Your heart rate picked up, your eyes growing wide as you worriedly asked, “What was that?!”

“Your water broke, dear!  Everything’s alright!” a nurse responded.

You moaned in pain.  “It’s about damn time.”  Your grip on Law’s hand released slightly, and you watched as a small smile appeared on his lips.

With one more push, the pressure in your groin finally dissipated somewhat as a nurse pulled your first baby out of you.  With the collapse of the amniotic sacs, it was much easier to deliver the rest of its body, much to your relief.  As soon as the contractions stopped, however, they began again.

“Keep going, darling, just one more to go!” the doctor called.  “It’s right there!”

You barely had the energy to pick your head up to look, and you watched through half-lidded eyes as Law examined the nurses huddled around your baby at the foot of your bed.  It was placed in a small portable incubator, being hooked up to machines to assess its condition.  35 weeks was still pretty early, so it made sense.  Its umbilical cord was clamped about two minutes after emerging from your womb.  Law tried to keep his anxiety repressed as your body shuddered with another contraction.

“The second baby is always easier, darling, you’re already fully dilated from the first,” explained your doctor, giving a reassuring pat to your ankle.

“First baby’s stable!” called one of the nurses.  “It’s a girl!”

Law felt his chest clench at the news.  His eyes lit up as he gazed at you, a smile pulling on his lips.  A weary smile formed on your own face as you were instructed to push once again.  Much to the room’s relief, the second baby did indeed come out much quicker than the first.  The loss of the amniotic fluid from your uterus and the stretching that your pelvis had endured with the first made it worlds easier for your second baby to emerge into the world.  The process repeated- a quick cleaning, a clamp after two minutes, and a quick check of vital signs.

“Another girl!” one of the nurses called, assessing the second in another small incubator.  “Also stable!”

You were helped onto your back in somewhat of a hurry, the two boxes containing your babies pushed toward your bedside where they were quickly gathered in bundles of blankets and placed on your chest.  It was all happening so fast, the world was practically blurring around you.  As soon as your babies touched your skin, it was as if a deep-rooted instinct emerged from you.  Law watched with pride as you nestled your newborns into your chest, your gentle hands holding their backs as they took in their first breaths as living humans.

Holy shit.

The room had quickly gone quiet around the four of you, a few of the nurses cleaning you up and reviewing your condition while additional nurses left the room to prepare suitable beds in the NICU for your newborns.  Even though they were both healthy and stable, they needed some extra time to grow.

“Law…?” you asked weakly, turning your head to look at your husband.

Law’s golden eyes were wide, frozen, large, salty tears streaming silently down his cheeks.  His chin was quivering as he gazed over you.  His three girls.

His girls.  He had two daughters.

Your husband huffed out a laugh that sounded more like a weary sob as he moved closer to you, stroking your head with his hand as he gazed warmly over the two tiny bodies on your chest, making their first contact with their mother.  He wiped his eyes clumsily with the sleeve of his white coat, inhaling a gross-sounding sniffle through his nose.

“I’m sorry I’m crying…” he blubbered.

“Don’t be…” you replied, your own tears welling in your eyes.  “You’re finally a daddy.  I’m happy you’re crying.”  You quietly laughed as Law reached forward with his hand, wiping your tears away from your cheeks, followed by another tender kiss against your jaw.

A nurse quickly stopped by your bedside, slipping small white cotton hats onto the tiny noggins of your daughters before leaving the four of you alone for a few more moments.  The skin-to-skin time was crucial for their attachment to you, and once that was established, they’d be able to go into the NICU for their extra care.

Both of the girls, despite being only around 35 weeks, had near-full heads of hair.  It made you wonder what they would have looked like being born at full-term.  The one over your left breast had tiny black curls that still stuck to her head.  The one over your right breast had thinner, straighter wisps of a lighter brown color.  They’d come into their own in a few more months as they grew, but even just from first looks, they were both clearly their father’s daughters.

—

The minutes following the birth were quite nasty if one were to ask you.  Law thought they were an interesting few moments, but you weren’t listening to him.  He was biased.  And frankly, you hated the way it felt when two placentas ejected themselves from your body.  It was like having another two babies but slimier and worse.

Your epidural was removed and you were cleaned up and helped into a cotton gown to rest in.  Your legs were weak from your long labor, but you were rewarded with some light food that didn’t taste like hospital sludge.  The third best piece of news you received was that, by some miracle, you didn’t tear a bit, and your uterus had completely and successfully done its job.

Finally.

You passed out very soon after your placentas were delivered, exhausted and completely spent after delivering two babies.

Law took the opportunity to retreat to the NICU and oversee his daughters as they were hooked up to breathing tubes and heart monitors to ensure that their good conditions remained that way.  They had their hand prints and foot prints taken by gentle nurses who were cooing over how cute they were, a sight that brought a smile to Law’s eyes.

“Dr. Trafalgar,” the voice of the doctor who oversaw your delivery shook him from his blissful state.  “Congratulations.”

“Dr. Linlin,” he replied as he turned to face her, shaking her hand.  “It’s good to see you.  Thank you for everything.”

“No need to thank me, dear,” she hummed.  “I’m a veteran of the motherhood game.  It’s all in a day’s work for me.  I’m so glad to see you happy and healthy, and with a wife even.  I remember the first day I met you, that skinny, scared looking post-grad doctor forced to speak in front of a huge crowd.”

Law groaned, rolling his eyes as the memory.  “One of the worst days of my life, for sure.”

The woman laughed, a hearty, bouncy chuckle.  She hadn’t changed a bit in the 20-some-odd years, probably even longer, that she had been a doctor.  “But look at you now.  A huge, monumental surgery, and now twins.  All in one day.”

“I’m going to sleep for centuries after all of this settles,” he added with a small smirk.  “After helping my wife, obviously.”

Dr. Linlin gave Law a hearty smack on his back, right in between his shoulders, making him lurch forward slightly.  “Your daughters will stay in the NICU for 24 hours for observation, and then they’ll be transferred to stay with the two of you in postpartum.  Let me know if you need anything, alright?  In a few hours, I’ll be back in your room to help you two sign the birth certificates.”

Law watched as the woman walked down the hall, her own bright pink doctor’s coat trailing behind her.  One of the only things Law knew about Linlin was the amount of kids she had.  It seemed like she popped out one every year, and yet she still had the time to be a labor and delivery doctor.  He shook his head, trying to ignore the logistics of it, before walking back to the postpartum room you had been transferred to.

You were awake and staring at the ceiling above you, your hands clasped around your belly.  You were still quite swollen, having been told that it would take a bit for your stomach to return to its pre-pregnant state, but you were already trying to come to terms with the fact that you would most likely never look exactly the same ever again.  Not after carrying and shoving out two humans.  When Law entered your quiet room, you smiled, all your anxieties melting away at the sight of your husband.

He wasted no time in crossing the space between you, leaning over you to plant a loving kiss against your lips.  All the emotions he had been holding in throughout the day, all the tension that arose during his mad dash through the hospital, and all the worries that the two of you had shared during your pregnancy struggles flooded between your exchange.  One of your hands traveled up to caress his cheek, your fingers trailing across his sideburns and into his slightly greasy black hair, pulling him ever closer to you.

“I’m happy you didn’t tear, or need anything else, really,” he whispered, pulling away from you.  “After everything you went through, you needed an easy birth.”

You grinned.  “I like to think our two other babies, somewhere out there in the universe, wanted it to be easy for us.  For once.”

Law pulled up a chair and sat beside you, leaning against your bed and dropping his head onto your shoulder.  You gently caressed your fingers through his hair in the way you knew he loved, watching with a fond smile as his eyes closed.

“What did they say about the NICU?” you asked, your voice tired and weary.

“24 hours.  Then they’ll be transferred here to stay with us.”  Law kissed your hand cheek.  “They’ll be eligible for discharge after they’re able to eat, stay warm, and breathe efficiently.”

“Speaking of which,” you stated, slowly moving yourself to sit up despite the aches in your bones.  “I pumped for the first time when you were looking at them.”

“How quick were you?” he asked with a joking tone.  “I didn’t think I was gone for that long.”

“It didn’t take as long as I thought it would, but I also didn’t need to give that much milk.  One of the nurses helped me, and they’ll be able to feed them in the NICU.  At some point in another hour or so, though, she told me I’ll have to visit them there so we can make sure they can latch on their own.”  One of your hands traveled up to painfully grab at one of your breasts.  “I’m already feeling so achy in my chest.  It’s gonna be a rough few months.”

Law grinned, dipping his head back down.  “But you’ll have help.  Don’t forget that.”

You hummed in response.  “You’re right.”

After a few extra moments of silence, you added.  “Names?”

“Hm?”

You chuckled.  “Names.  We have to name our girls.”

“Oh shit, you’re right,” Law muttered.  He had completely forgotten one of the most important parts of being a new parent.  “What were you thinking?”

“Cora and Rose,” you said, matter-of-factly.  “I’ve been thinking about it for a while.  And now we know they’re both girls.”

Law smiled, a rare, genuine expression that reached his eyes.  A smile he only ever showed you.  “Cora and Rose… which one is which?”

“Rose is the one with those little black curls.  Cora is the one with the lighter hair,” you confirmed.

Another tender kiss was planted on your forehead.  “I couldn’t ask for anything better than that.”

—

You didn’t expect breastfeeding to be as euphoric as it was.  In less of an immense pleasure way, and more of a ‘holy crap, it feels like my breasts are losing 25 pounds’ kind of way.

Your girls were already so good.  Cora latched instantly, one of her tiny, weak hands curling slightly upward to grasp at your skin.  Both of them were still curled in a fetal position, and it would take them a bit longer to finally stretch out and look more like usual babies, but right now, they were the perfect size to swaddle and nestle into your skin.

The neonatal intensive care unit was a surprisingly colorful place.  You always imagined it would be rife with anxiety, desperation, and sadness, a bunch of little, sick babies fighting for their lives, but the second you and Law finally entered to see your daughters, all those expectations flew out the window.  Their corner was bright and colorful, with rainbows painting the walls and a fairly large window with a view of the surrounding city below.  It was pitch black out, just past midnight, but you imagined the daylight would flood the room with a warm, natural light.

Your daughters were already so warm, kept insulated by their little cotton swaddles they were bundled in, and their tiny beanie hats that covered their fragile heads.  The sight warmed your heart.

A breastfeeding specialist (which was a job you had no idea existed until then), helped situate you in a chair, accommodating your sore and spent body.  She assisted with adequately positioning your daughters, one for each nipple, and gave you tips on how to make sure they latch and stay on while nursing from you.

You had an additional blood test a few hours after the birth, when your girls were done with their first natural feed and were now sleeping calmly in their incubators.  It was looking like you’d be able to go home within the next 24 hours, if everything continued as normal.

While you were taking a light nap in the chair beside your daughters’ beds, Law used your phone to snap some pictures of Cora and Rose in their tiny beds side by side, smiling as he pulled up your text messages and sent them off to Shachi, Penguin, and Ikkaku.  He didn’t think they’d respond, with it being so late, but their messages rolled in almost instantly, bringing a fond smile to his face.

Ika-chan OMGOGMOGMGOMGOMGOGMOGMGOGMOMG

Ika-chan TWO LITTLE GIRLS

Ika-chan ARE THEY HEALTHY????????

Ika-chan ARE *YOU* HEALTHY?????????????

Shachiiii Still cant believe those things came out of you whatthefuck

Shachiiii Must have hurt like a mf

PenPen Shachi’s next to me sobbing his eyes out

PenPen I’m crying too.  But I’m stronger than him

PenPen Fuck no im not.  Im soaked over here.  

It was then that his pager beeped.  He forgot he still had it on him.  Technically, he was still on the clock.  He gently placed your phone on the small table beside you to not wake you up before reaching into his coat pocket and procuring his pager, stepping out into the hallway to not disturb his three sleeping beauties.

“This is Dr. Trafalgar,” he said into the small device.

Some slight static came through the speaker.  [Hey, this is Operation Triple Organ Replacement calling in from the OR!  How’s our best doctor doing?]

Law couldn’t fight the smile that formed on his lips.  “Before I answer, how was the rest of the procedure?”

Some small chuckles and a few mildly annoyed groans were heard.  [Patient did absolutely amazing.  He’s in recovery, stable, and is slowly being woken from anesthesia.  They’ll be able to take his intubation tube out in a few more hours, but that’s out of our hands.  Soooo…?]

Law felt relief fill his lungs.  A successful operation was everything he was hoping for, and now he felt he could finally rest easy.  “I have two daughters, Cora and Rose.  Everyone is happy, healthy, and resting.”

He needed to pull the pager away from his face as a cacophony of garbled cheering was heard.  A distorted [FUCK YEAH] echoed through the speaker.

“Are you guys still in the pre-op room?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow.

[Yeah, we’re all cleaned up and everything, but we were waiting for the right time to page you.  We’re abusing hospital equipment, we know, but this is CRUCIAL.]

Law couldn’t blame his team in the slightest.  It was past midnight on May 13th, and they had just completed the biggest surgical procedure of their lives, probably the most daunting surgery their hospital would ever see.  They deserved to rest and relax, and yet here they were, still in the pre-op theater, celebrating their lead doctor.  

The black-haired surgeon smiled, pressing down on the transmission button with his thumb.  “You guys go clean up, alright?  Treat yourselves.  Everyone did absolutely amazing today.”

[Copy that, Doctor.  Tell your wife we said congrats!]

Law slipped the pager back into his pocket before reentering the NICU room.  His stern, golden eyes softened instantly upon seeing you awake, leaning over the side of Rose’s bed and idly trailing your thumb softly over her chubby cheek.  Beside Rose, Cora’s arms were already outstretched far enough that she was almost encroaching on her sister’s space.  Soon enough, the small oxygen tubes taped to their fresh faces would be gently removed, and they’d be able to go home and sleep in their cribs, in your apartment.  Law leaned over you and kissed the crown of your head, rubbing his inked hand between your shoulder blades.

“Hey, baby?” he whispered, gazing down at you.

You leaned into his side, melting at his touch.  “Yeah?”

“I’m so proud of you.”

[horrorstreet]

Bigger Problems

The Oni ( Dead By Daylight) x reader Warnings: SMUT - Size Kink - Slight Gore A/N: I don't usually write smut so please don't bash me for this shitty job but eat up I supposed

Your hands meticulously worked around the wires and tubes of the generator, trying desperately to get the thing running. It didn’t help that the Yamaoka estate didn’t provide any light so you just had to squint and hope you were putting together the correct wires. 

THUD

THUD

THUD

THUD

You could hear the Oni’s large footsteps approaching where you were hard at work crouched over a generator and you could tell you were close to being done but you couldn’t stick it out. He was getting too close and he was fast approaching on your side of the generator, Sable on the other side trying her best to stick it out and make sure it got done. You gave her a sorry look before running off in the opposite direction that the large man was running. Looking back, you saw Sable being grabbed from the machine and thrown to the ground before the Oni swung down on her, crushing her head underneath his weapon, yelling furiously as he did so. 

Tears brimmed the waterline of your eyes, threatening to spill over as you ran off to find another generator to work on. Dwight quickly ran off seeing you run up to the generator he was working on and you gave a tired huff, getting down on your needs in front of the big hunk of metal before finishing the work Dwight had started. You worked hard to make sure you got this one done in time, hearing the large killers footsteps stomping around all over the estate as you did so.

You listened to each and every one of your companions get picked off one by one, their screams filling the air before being replaced with the sound of the entity lowering its claw down to pick them up and return them to the campfire.

And then there was you.

“Please.. Please.” You wheezed out quietly trying to find the hatch to escape back with the others. Bamboo trees smacked you in the face and legs as you ran around the place, trying your hardest to find your sweet exit to safety. But, it seemed that fate had other plans. You heard the slamming of the hatch door slam down before sinking back down into the ground, disappearing like it was never there. The tears finally spilled over, running down your face, realizing that your chances of escaping were zero to none now. 

You heard Oni’s angered yell once again as he rushed around as fast as he could to find you. You, on the other hand, were as quiet as a mouse, finally having reached one of the levers to the doors that led to your escape, you were almost there, almost had that door open when you realized it was too quiet now. Before you knew it, the stomps of the large man came rushing at you, a scream ripping out of your throat and the doors opening right then and there but it was too late. The Oni knocked your feet out from underneath you and you fell hard to the dirt, your head hitting the ground hard with a thud, your vision spinning for a split second before the vision of a large hand coming down to grab you came into view. 

Oni reached down to pick you up, his large, calloused hands wrapping around your throat and lifting you up into the air. Your eyes met his own that once glowed under his mask but faded into something darker as a certain realization hit him that you seemed to understand in that same exact moment. It was as if time stopped in that moment, a heat filling your core as you noticed just how much you liked this. Being in the hands of this large man. At his mercy as he held your life in his palm. He stood there unmoving as you looked into his eyes with the same dark, hooded look he stared at you with, his body growing hotter as he stared at you. How small you were in his hands. How much bigger he was than you. He could truly do whatever he wanted with you and you didn’t protest. The man let you fall down to the ground, this time watching as you landed on your ass, an “oof” escaping your mouth as you landed. You looked up at him with a certain look in his eyes that made his breathing heavy. 

You’re his favorite … 

He swiftly bent down to pick you up, throwing you over his shoulder before storming off inside of the estate building that stood tall. He quickly made his way into one of the more comfortable rooms that showed less signs of decay and dropped you down again, softer this time. Your tights squeezed together as you watched him throw down his weapons and move his mask to rest comfortably above his lips. He quickly moved to take his armor off from around his large shoulder and chest, the only thing keeping him from being in the nude being his pants that now slightly fell to rest on his hips loosely, his v line teasing what gift waited for you underneath. 

Large hands clawed at your clothes, ripping the shirt off of your figure before moving to your bra, revealing your chest. Your face turned red, the cold air hitting your chest and your nipples growing hard. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, though. He was so big above you, on his knees and working to get you undressed so he could have you just the way he wanted. Your chest heaved as you breathed hard, not believing what was happening. 

The man quickly pulled your pants off, the ripped jeans being tossed off to the side of the room before he removed his own pants, tossing them off into the same direction. Oni pulled you over to him, setting you in between his legs, his hard length pressed up against your back. He was breathing heavily above you as he leaned his head down to press harsh kisses and bites to your neck, his large fingers sliding between your folds, your slick wetting his fingers before circling your clit carefully, starting off slow before getting rough. Your legs clenched together, his other hand reaching around to hold your legs open as he continued. You let out a loud moan at the feeling, quickly losing yourself to the sensation.

Once he had his fill of feeling you squirm against him, he slipped his fingers into you, two dipping into you and curling up to try and hit that bundle of nerves. He pumped in and out of you before adding a third finger, completely stretching you out to prepare you for his length that oozed precum down your ass. As his fingers continued to pump in and out of you, his other hand reached back around to grip his length, slowly starting to pump it. The tip was red and angry, the throbbing feeling of his cock becoming too distracting for him. Oni had enough of the foreplay, ready to take you and claim you as his. His little doll. He picked you up and turned you to face him, placing both hands on your hips and slowly sliding you down on his length. He gave you no time to adjust before thrusting into you, lifting his hips up into you slowly, admiring how small you were between his hands. Your hands flew up to rest on his chest, nails digging into his skin and moans spilling from your mouth, eyes clamped shut as you focused on the feeling of him filling you up to nice. 

He stopped moving his hips up into you and used you, sliding you up and down his throbbing cock, loving how easy it was to move you up and down his length. The sounds. The sight. It was all so much. The Oni picked you up once more before slamming you against the wall of the room and letting loose. He slammed up into you with eager grunts, a white hot, pleasurable feeling making your legs go numb as he hit those bundle of nerves so perfectly deep inside of you. It made you go limp, the feeling so overwhelming. You let it take over your mind, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you felt your climax quickly approaching. You could tell he was close too, his breathing unsteady and erratic, his thrusts becoming uneven and faltering. 

You moaned out, your arms that were wrapped around his neck now pulling him close as you let go, cumming all over his length, the wet release dribbling down his length and dripping down onto the floor beneath you both. He continued his attack on your cunt before he came to a halt, feeling his hot release fill you to the brim before gushing out of you and falling down to the ground, mixing with your own release. He pumped into you a few more times before pulling out and doing his best to catch his breath.

He carefully placed you back onto the ground, laying your back carefully onto the bamboo mat that covered the ground. He quickly fixed his mask, putting his armor back on as you sluggishly put your own clothes back on, besides your shirt which you knew would be replaced by the entity when you left to go back to the campfire. 

The Oni picked you up, holding you in his arms all the way back to the open gates. He looked down at you without a word and took a deep breath before putting you down and looking down at you before slowly back away, turning around to walk back into the estate away from the gates, leaving you alone. And while that may not have been the sweetest goodbye…

You knew round two was promised soon….

[hanhonymous]

The Trainee’s workplace authenticity

One of my favorite things about workplace TV shows is when the characters actually do work. AND when the details of such work are not only relatively accurate, but also essential to how the characters relate to themselves, the world and each other. So far, "The Trainee" is giving that to me in the first two episodes.

Having interned/been an assistant at a TV production company and later moving to entertainment journalism and managing interns/junior writers there, I can appreciate both Ryan's and Jane's POVs. Here's what I liked so far:

Good Pick's pink tube slide and movie theater seats in the lobby - A lot of these entertainment-adjacent companies take a cue from Silicon Valley and have this frivolous, frat-boy design aesthetic -- bean bag chairs, foosball tables, etc. I worked in an office that had a ping-pong table. The idea is to make it fun enough that people want to stay in the office and work longer, which isn't really all that great. You stop seeing that fun stuff after a while and just want to get home. That said, I'd love to work in a company with a fire pole in it, but that would be too much of a liability.

Ryan's fluke hiring - Baimon totally hearing what he wants to hear from Ryan in that sham interview is hilarious but sadly not all that unusual. What sucks is that this is unfair to the manager who then must work with the unqualified person, and unfair to that person hired also, who isn't the best fit for the position. I've been the person saddled by the unfortunate hire and have had to make do … and sometimes you can figure it out, but often you're left doing extra work to make up for their deficits. If it's just an intern, no problem -- they'll be gone in a few months. I felt Jane's pain!

Ryan's uncertainty & silence - That said, Ryan clearly wants to do well but is out of his depth since this was not even what he was learning in school. I remember the first day as a journalist for a small company where I kind of was on my own, and nobody told me what to do. I was like, "WTF??" Part of you doesn't want to ask questions lest you expose your imposter identity, but you're also wondering just how long you can do nothing before someone notices.

The printer always breaks down -- always. You get pretty good at troubleshooting everything until resorting to calling a technician

Jane's prickly demeanor - The fact is that in any company, people who are competent can move up, but that doesn't automatically infuse them with good managerial skills. I think workshops, etc. are a must for anyone who gets promoted and suddenly have people reporting to them. Everyone can get frustrated when they're overwhelmed, so I do have some sympathy for Jane. He does have one skill that I think is essential to be a good manager: identifying and acknowledging the strengths of an employee. It really makes all the difference that he finally sees Ryan as an asset, not a hindrance.

Ryan's skills aren't that bad at all - As soon as Ryan tells his family that he's no help to anyone at work, he immediately shows five different ways how much he's relied on by his family. Yes, people who are competent, reliable and can anticipate needs (like how his sister needs to be reminded to charge the battery after using the camera) will be able to apply those skills to other situations and can go far. Ryan just needs to familiarize himself with the industry first in order to know how he can fill in the gaps. (I believe in being able to change careers and taking big pivots in life.)

The interns banding together - OMG I remember sometimes just being unsupervised while trying to get a project together, and there is a strange bond you have being the youngest and least experienced. And you do have the most stupid conversations.

Being one cog in a bigger machine - I really appreciate how they show all the different departments that have to come together to make one project work -- especially when last-minute changes need to be implemented or a persnickety client has opinions. You complain, you worry, you put in extra late hours and have to make 11th-hour fixes -- but it's so satisfying to see it all come together. Shit goes down, and you fix it.

Hiring extras - The hiring of extras at Good Pick was different from what I've experienced. I actually have been an extra, and what I'm used to is being part of a company or agency that has you in their database, and then you get picked or cast by that company and sent to your gig. But that's in Hollywood and for TV shows & movies. It's probably different for ad houses or in Thailand, but I did like how they showed that it is still a casting process. There are deliberate decisions made, and certain looks sought out. I thought it was hilarious that Ryan's first thought for hiring the salaryman was to get an uncle from the same restaurant as the auntie. If he had his way, everyone in that restaurant would be hired for some gig or another.

Ryan getting scammed by the extra - I was screaming at Ryan as soon as he offered to pay that scammer extra. Just … no, boy. You had to have known that was shady. BUT despite being duped, he was willing to think on his feet and try to solve a problem by being proactive, and that does happen. And so do mistakes. He just needs to calibrate his radar for what is OK. (I'm glad Jane saw that.) Ryan is lucky that it only cost him 1,000 baht for that lesson.

Extras must be on hand and wait - OK this is a scene in the preview for Episode 3, but I was so happy to see it: Extras in Hollywood actually cannot just spend 5 minutes or whatever to do their job, even if that's how much you see them onscreen. There's a ton of hurry up and wait on film sets, and so extras have to stay in Holding -- usually just a designated area with some chairs (sometimes you get tables) -- until you're needed. And production schedules never run on time, so it can be hours or even days. You're lucky if you're there long enough to get a meal, if the temperature is nice, if you're able to make friends with the others and if there's wifi. Sometimes you bring your own clothes for wardrobe based on what you're told, and sometimes the wardrobe department supplements your wardrobe with extra pieces to help complete a specific look. And yeah, you're not able to leave except for the bathroom, so Ryan definitely shouldn't have let that one extra wander off.

"Ryan After Work" - I like these post-credit sequences that give extra insights into the job. And while the first one was more instructional, explaining how the production house differed from an agency, the second was more about the cohort camaraderie (and hinting at Ryan's positive feelings toward Jane). I hope the romance aspect of the show doesn't overshadow the work specificity going forward!

[justsescape]

I want to see Asuka treated like a barn cow and milked consistently.-

"Another nineteen inches added to my bust measurement today," Asuka declared proudly. The tape measure was so tightly wound across her gigantic breasts that flesh was bulging around its length. "HA! No other cow in this barn can even hope to compare to my greatness. I am the best and most productive cow this barn has ever known!"

Asuka's body was downright unrealistically proportioned. Her arms and legs were so slender that they could have led her through a career in ballet -- but her boobs were like beanbag chairs, draping over her fragile figure like they aimed to cover it entirely. In her stall, she had taken up a habit of sitting atop one of her many, many filled milk barrels and letting her bust simply spread across her thighs and droop down until her downturned nipples grazed against her toes. Come nightfall, she never asked for a blanket. Slipping beneath her overdeveloped chest was like sleeping underneath a thick down comforter.

"Oooof... carrying the weight of this business makes my back hurt in more ways than one." Asuka had long since traded her Evangelion's hair clips for a cow-eared headband. The rest of her outfit was similar: cowprint thigh-highs, cowprint gloves, and a cowbell dangling from a collar around her neck. Practically the only thing that she couldn't cover up were her titanic tits. An entire alphabet's worth of bras trembled in fear at the mere thought of it. "But if my milk is the best, then it's my duty to serve the clueless masses!"

The measuring tape retracted from Asuka's chest as a pair of manhole-sized, clear plastic cones clung themselves to her oversized nipples. They didn't always land in the same place each day; familiar red rings still marred her pale skin as mementos of the previous week's sessions. The staff never let them fade completely. No one produced more milk than her.

"Would you hurry up and start already?!" Asuka's arms flailed as wildly as they could -- perhaps to overcompensate for all the ways the rest of her body now couldn't. The cowbell rang dully with every little tilt of her head. "It's not like I can drag my boobs down to the milking machine and do it myself! You know I would if I could, just so I wouldn't have to put up with you incompetent morons!"

Attached to the plastic cones were a pair of tubes that slunk lazily over the fence surrounding Asuka's stall. They snaked and coiled through the thoroughfare of the barn, into a door that was consistently ajar, and down a flight of stairs into an underground repository. Somewhere in the dark, they connected themselves to the barn's central milking machine. It was a towering, modular, deafening system -- like a server farm stacked on top of another server farm. Multiple clean-suit technicians ran around its perimeter, barking orders and readings and jargon at one another. Perhaps this was the job of the least-endowed cows.

The entire complex began to buzz. It took every ounce of power the barn could muster to service Asuka's outrageously productive breasts.

"Here it goes!" Asuka's toes curled in anticipation; her hands dug into her bust, skin bulging in between her fingers. "I'm ready!"

BZZZZZZZZZZZ!

It was less like a pump and more like a vacuum. Milk didn't come out of Asuka's nipples in rhythmic spurts, but in a hydrant-like flow that resembled that of a pressure washer. Her product coursed violently through the tubes like water through a fire fighter's hose. Other cows in the neighboring stalls -- some with D cups, some with beach balls, but none bigger than Asuka herself -- gripped their own fences as they watched the tubes jostle and shake against the hay-covered ground in the thoroughfare.

"MMMMMMMMF!~" A bit lip; trembling knees. Asuka's hands clutched the barrel she sat upon like she was a pilot gripping an ejected seat. "How... h-how does this f-feel... even... nnNNNnnfff~... even better every time...?!"

Down in the underground, the technicians rapidly exchanged full barrels of milk for empty ones. They stacked atop one another against the walls -- almost like the beer cans in Misato's apartment. Years ago, that was the place Asuka called home. Now she wouldn't be able to fit through the front door.

"Nnnngh... I... I can't... I c-can't st-stop myself... m... mmMMmmm... moooOOOOoooo~..."

Beads of sweat clung to the tips of Asuka's bangs. She panted like she had just run a marathon -- but the marathon of milking had only just begun.

[perfectsunlight]

𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 [𝟏𝟏]

𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝘀𝘂𝗯𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗮𝗯𝘂𝘀𝗲.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 1k

𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀: 𝗴𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗽𝗶𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲

the ambiance of the hospital could be summed up in three words: sterile, quiet, and tense.

the sterile scent of disinfectant lingered in the air while the quiet hum of machinery and the occasional beep of monitors provided a backdrop to hushed conversations and footsteps. 

ning never thought she’d end up in a hospital. however given her circumstance, it was obviously inevitable. obviously drinking and taking molly was obviously not the best idea. 

you stayed by the idol’s side while jimin and minjeong explained to ning what had happened to her. it was a long conversation, but you didn’t pay attention to most of it. you were too focused on the iv in ningning’s arm and the sound of her heartbeat playing on machines. 

there were countless nights you spent in close proximity with the idol, but you felt like memorizing her features as she sat next to you. 

eventually, the other members exited the room to give yizhuo her rest. you stood up to take your leave as well, but before you could exit the room, ningning spoke out.

“why did you come with them?”

silence wasn’t able to fill the room due to the machines present, but there was a tension that seemed to thicken after the obvious was spoken. slowly, you turned to face the chinese girl. you didn’t even like the idea of her being in a hospital bed, let alone feeling like it was your fault. you had to remind yourself that it wasn’t. after all, you didn’t know of ning’s true feelings.

or even your own, for that matter. 

“because i was worried.”

yizhuo’s eyes softened at your words, a flicker of vulnerability breaking through her usual confident demeanor. she looked down at the iv in her arm, her fingers lightly tracing the tube. she didn’t like that you were here because of what she had done.

“why?” she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. “i didn't want to drag you into this," she added, her voice tinged with regret.

“you're not dragging me into anything. i chose to be here because,” you paused while yizhuo's gaze met yours, and for a moment, she felt her heart stop. yours was beating out of your chest, but you knew you had to at least say something about how you felt. 

“i care about you. we all do. but especially me.”

nothing could’ve prepared ning for those words coming out of your mouth. she had daydreamed and fantasized about you saying you cared. but for some reason, it didn’t feel real hearing it out loud in reality.

“especially you?” she repeated, her tone almost hopeful. you swallowed hard, feeling the weight of the moment. it wasn’t anything outstanding, but it was the truth. 

you cared about ning yizhuo. and she cared about you.

“yes, especially me,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “i don't know what i'd do if something happened to you.”

it was quiet. ningning didn’t know what to do. she hated the quiet, but right now, it was the only thing keeping her emotions at bay. she knew this moment wasn’t one she wanted to mess up like the last times.

not like the night at the club, or another night in her bedroom. she didn’t want your conversation to go like any of the other times she was a coward and ran from her feelings.

she wanted to make this go right.

her eyes showed the conflict and hesitation in them. even you could see how her emotions were brewing. “i don't want to mess this up," she admitted, her voice trembling. “i don’t want you to hate me.”

all her life, yizhuo never had someone who willingly wanted to be there for her. sure, her members were there for her, but they started out as co-workers and then became friends.

you were the only person who wanted to be there for her from the start.

while you stood there, you couldn’t help but feel your heart ache at the vulnerability in ningning's voice, and you reached out to gently brush a stray strand of hair from her face. 

“ning, i could never hate you,” you whispered, your voice filled with sincerity. “i care about you too much for that.”

the idol’s gaze softened, and she reached out to grasp your hand, holding onto it. part of her never wanted to let it go.

“thank you,” she murmured, her voice filled with gratitude and something more profound. “for everything.” 

you squeezed her hand gently, feeling a sense of warmth and connection between you. “anytime, ning,” you replied softly, a small smile playing on your lips. “i'm here for you, always.”

her gaze softened as she looked at you, a flicker of vulnerability in her eyes. she didn’t want you to leave yet.

“can you stay with me?” she asked quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “while i sleep, i mean.”

your heart skipped a beat at her request, and you nodded without hesitation. you didn’t want to leave her yet, either. “of course,” you replied softly, a gentle smile tugging at your lips. “i'll be right here.”

she gave you a grateful smile, her fingers tightening around yours. “thank you,” she murmured as she pulled you into her side. the aespa member pulled the hospital bed’s blanket over the both of you. you grabbed your phone and quickly checked the time before shutting your phone off.

her eyes fluttered closed as exhaustion finally caught up with her. as she drifted off to sleep, her breathing gradually became steady and even. you watched over her, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you as you sat by her bedside, your presence a silent promise of comfort for the girl.

in that quiet hospital room, amidst the soft glow of the evening light and the steady rhythm of ningning's breathing, you knew that this was where you belonged. 

by her side, through thick and thin, one step at a time.

𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧: @jiihu @silantryoo @rosiehrs @craftymasterlistcomicsprune @skisk1 @jisooftme @babycubchae @yunjinhart @pandamiswifey @jenoteamo @lcv3lies  @pagedpick7 @bexisbomb @lcv3lies @lauxymy4 @justalittledissociation @captivq @jeindall777

CLOSED.

[yandere-sins]

Warning: Yandere, Mentioning of an accident, blood, wounds, Needles/IV Drips (Hospital thematic in general), Murder and Suicidal Thoughts

A yandere who always brings fresh flowers when they visit you in the hospital.

The nurses love them, doctors smile at them, and they are generally known as the sweetest and kindest visitor by everyone. It's such a tragedy that you are hospitalized, unable to do much as your body recovers from a tragic accident. But luckily, you have such a wonderful partner who—despite everyone believing they greatly suffer in silence as well—comes to visit you every day. Everyone is swooning about the yan's dedication to you, the way their face lights up when they talk about how amazing you are and how much they love you. They have everyone fooled completely.

No one would suspect they are the reason you are hospitalized.

"I told you to be more careful who you're hanging out with," they reprimand you with a smile curling their lips upwards, holding your hand with the IV needle inserted, and letting their thumb caress your weak joints gently. There's a scolding in the way they pick on your scratches, opening them until they draw blood, but their hold on you is reverent. As if they feared losing you once again if they let go. They told you so many times to stay away from other people! Assuring you countless of days that you only need the yan by your side! But you just wouldn't listen to them... Look what that did to you.

You can only watch them through heavily lidded eyes, barely fully awake with the pain meds clouding your mind. No one can blame you for not truly realizing everything the yan is doing by your bedside. And yet, in the few moments of clarity, when your gaze falls on them, your eyes are filled with deep hatred, only the tube down your throat preventing you from screaming at them.

If only you had listened to them, they wouldn't have needed to take such drastic measures to assure you'd be in a controlled environment, somewhere only carefully selected people could attend to you—including the yandere. Buying you a single room and only putting the best doctors in charge with a small fee to silence them had been much easier than getting you into the hospital in the first place. Perhaps your selfish, little heart will never understand how much pain the yandere had been in before they assured you couldn't go anywhere without their permission anymore. It was not easy to hurt the person they love the most, but it was a necessity. They did it because they love you. They care for you. They adore you.

Now they can finally bask in the glory of it only being you two. Sun shining in from the large windows they opened for you, the summer breeze rustling through their hair and putting its tender winds on your heated skin to soothe. A fresh bouquet of flowers at your bedside, smelling like the outdoors that you'll no longer get to see, and a plate with apple slices in the yan's lap that they pretend to feed you before acting as if they realize it doesn't work since your mouth is occupied, grinning as they say, "Oopsie!" and proceed to eat the fruit themself. No screaming, crying and arguing about things they yan doesn't even want to remember, just the peace of you two being together and the beeping of the machine's keeping you alive.

It's the type of peace the yan could seriously get used to, but despite breaking so many bones, they know they won't be able to keep you here forever. At some point, you will regain control over your broken body. It's not a question of if. It's a question of what comes first: motor function or your voice. Then, the struggle will resume, and this time, more people will be involved than just the few annoying 'friends' the yan had to get rid of after taking care of you. They were too intrusive and accusatory. They thought they knew better than the yan, so they had to teach your friends a lesson they'd remember forever.

Before the yan leaves, they always pull your hand to their lips, kissing it as they promise you their undying love and devotion, in sickness and health, till death do you part. All while they eye the plugs supplying your machines with electricity before forcing their gaze back to you. Even battered and bruised, you are a sight for their sore eyes, and there's nothing they'd rather look at than you, knowing that if you were gone, they'd wither away like a plant without their sun. There is nowhere the yan wouldn't follow you, even beyond the mortal bounds. If you're not on this earth anymore, they will have no reason to remain either. But until then, the yan will gaze upon you for as long as possible, poison their thoughts further as they fill their mind with the sight of you.

Because if they can't have you, no one can.

Even if it kills you both.

[cool-fancier]

A Heartbreaking Decision

Synopsis: You were unconscious in a sterile room, on life support. Your family considered unplugging it.

Your loyal partner, Bada, entered the room, shut the door, and confronted them.

As tensions rose, machines were turned off and the room fell silent.

"I love you," Bada said quietly. In another life, we'll be together."

The decision had been done, leaving long-lasting scars of unhappiness.

The sterile hospital room seemed to be suffocating, its cold, white walls reflecting the hopelessness that hung heavy in the air. You were an optimistic person once, but now you lay still, attached to a complex web of machines and tubes. A cruel twist of fate left you unconscious and unable to move and Bada could do nothing but watch, her heart aching with desperation.

The agonising condition got much worse by the strict hospital regulations. Bada begged the medical staff from where she was standing, just outside the room, her face twisted in agony. She had supported you through everything and had loved you with all her heart, but she wasn't regarded as family. The barriers of regulations and bureaucracy seemed impossible.

Your parents were thinking the terrible decision that hovered over your life as they stood inside the room, overwhelmed with sorrow and tiredness. There had been no sign of progress for several weeks. The financial strain and emotional pain were becoming unbearable for your family, and the idea of letting you go had become practically unavoidable.

From where she was standing outside the room, Bada overheard their serious conversation, and her heart fell with every word she heard. She was aware that your family had made the decision to turn off your life support. She couldn't stand the idea of losing you in such a way, and her choice was the result of unimaginable suffering. She couldn't bring herself to allow your family to make such a terrible decision without her.

Without hesitation, Bada interfered to resolve the situation. She discreetly closed the door from inside the room as she silently entered. She was unable to watch while your family prepared to send you away. She had to stand by your side, hold your hand, and indicate her presence to you,no matter what.

As she examined your lifeless body on the bed, Bada's hands shook. She was aware that her actions could have terrible consequences, but she was prepared to accept them all in order to be with you. She had to think that there was a chance that you might still recover.

Bada gently and nervously reached out to touch your face when she was seated at your bedside. Her voice cracked with emotion as she uttered loving and uplifting words while wiping tears from her eyes. She expressed her love for you and how she couldn't bear to lose you. You were her whole world.

Outside the room, chaos began. Your family and the medical staff demanded to break through the barricaded door, shouting for Bada to come out. The sound of pounding and shouting filled the corridor, but Bada refused. She had made up her mind to be with you for as long as she could.

The situation worsened as a result of Bada's choice to barricade the door and stay with you at the hospital. When your family had taken the difficult decision to remove your life support, it led to in a tense confrontation, but she was determined to be by your side.

As the medical staff and your parents burst into the room, Bada stood stubbornly, her grip on your hand unwavering. She met your parents' eyes as they flooded with shock and pain at her bold refusal.

Your father yelled, "Get out of here, Bada," his voice a mix of desperation and rage. "You have no right to interfere with our decision."

Your mother begged Bada, "Please, Bada, we're doing what's best for her," as tears flowed down her face. "You need to understand."

But Bada's determination remained unbroken. "I can't just stand by and watch you take this step without me," she replied. "I love Y/N, and I won't leave her side."

Your parents and Bada got into a heated disagreement, which raised the tension in the room. The medical team made an effort to step in, but it was challenging to restore order due to the intense emotional nature of the incident.

Your father roared, his voice quivering with fury, "You have no say in this. "We are her parents, and we have the right to make this decision."

Bada's voice cracked as she responded, "I know you're her parents, but I love her. I need to be here with her, to let her know she not alone."

Your mother pleaded for help one final time, her face etched with agony. "Bada, we appreciate your love for our daughter, but this is our decision to make."

As the argument carried on with neither side wanting to accept, tensions reached a breaking point. Your parents were compelled to carry out their decision as the medical team insisted in trying to turn off the life support.

Bada's voice quivered as she whispered to you, "I love you, and I'm here with you.And I promise in another life we will be together" Her eyes remained locked with yours as she leaned in to kiss your forehead. She then hesitantly released your hand, allowing the medical staff to proceed with their duties.

As the machines were disconnected, and the room fell into silence, Bada watched in suffering.  Your parents clutched each other close as their faces were scarred with suffering.

The choice had been made, but Bada and your parents' disagreements and enmity would remain forever as a reminder of the painful decisions they had been forced to make. Your parents' enormous grief and sense of duty had ultimately come into disagreement with Bada's firm love and resolve, causing scars that would take a long time for them to heal.

[ltash]

Bleeding Love

You saw Ghost breaking infront of everybody for you.

I'm coiled up like a venomous serpant

Tangled in your heart and I'm certain

You've got your hooks in me.

I coughed and opened my eyes, feeling the oxygen tubes attached to my nostrils. "Help!" I croaked painfully, my voice barely above a whisper. The machine beside me beeped loudly as my heartbeat quickened.

The door opened, and a nurse rushed in with a doctor. I went into a panic attack.

"Simon!" I called his name, desperation seeping into my voice.

The doctors injected something into my IV to stabilize me, but tears continued to cascade down my cheeks.

"Simon!" I called again, my voice breaking.

As the sedative took effect, my breathing slowed, and I drifted into a deep sleep.

I don't know how much time had passed when I woke up again. This time, someone was holding my hand.

"Nora," I heard him say, his gloved hand caressing my skin. I looked at him.

"Simon." My voice broke.

It was hard to breathe as I had direct trauma to my chest and belly. I wheezed with each breath.

Simon stood up and took me into an embrace lifting me off the bed slightly.

He squeezed my hand gently. "I am here, luvvie. Don't be afraid. Nothing will happen to you."

I wanted to talk, but he stopped me.

"Ssh! You need rest, love. Don't talk." He nodded reassuringly.

I closed my eyes, feeling a bit more at ease with him there. He stayed with me the whole day, never leaving my side.

Later, Captain Price and Soap visited me. Soap had a bandage over his arm and head, clearly having been through his own ordeal.

"How are you holding up, Nora?" Captain Price asked gently.

I managed a weak smile. "I've been better, Captain."

Soap stepped closer, trying to lighten the mood. "You've got the whole team worried about you, you know. Even Ghost here hasn't left your side."

Ghost squeezed my hand, his silence more comforting than words.

Captain Price nodded. "You just focus on getting better. We'll handle everything else."

I glanced at Simon, his eyes never leaving mine. "Thank you, all of you," I whispered.

"We're a team, Nora," Soap said. "And we'll get through this together."

Captain Price gave a reassuring nod. "Rest now. We'll be right here when you need us."

At night, I was feeling much better but still sore. A nurse came to change the bandage on my thigh.

"We need to change the dressing once a day," she said. "You need to change into a fresh pair of clothes, ma'am."

I looked at Simon. He knew I had no clothes of my own there. He went out and came back with military clothes of my size and an oversized T-shirt of his own.

I went to the bathroom and washed my face. The realization that I lost my pregnancy hit me hard. I changed into the fresh clothes he brought me and sat on the hospital bed. Simon was not in the room.

I went into shock right away, my hands trembling, my eyes watery as I sat there silently gazing into the air. Simon came into the room, dressed in the same blue jeans and hoodie with his tactical vest and the skull mask.

"We caught El Sin Nombre. It's a woman," he said.

I did not reply, instead looking into the air.

"Nora!" he called me.

I didn’t reply.

"Nora! Say something," he insisted.

I blinked, my voice barely a whisper. Simon. Our baby is gone."

Tears streamed down my face. "How can I move on from this?"

"How can I move on from this, Simon?" I asked again, my voice trembling. "When I needed you the most, you weren't there."

I stood up, my legs shaky, and walked towards him, looking up to face him. "You weren't fucking there when I needed you." I put my finger on his chest, my voice filled with pain and anger. "Soap couldn't protect me. He tried his best. You had one job, Simon Riley, and you failed miserably at that."

Simon clenched his jaw, his eyes darkening. "I left Johnny fucking MacTavish to care for you, but he couldn't do that. I will kill him," he snapped, turning on his heel and storming out of the room.

"No! You won't touch him," I shouted, following him out of the room and into the corridor.

He didn't listen. He kept walking, his pace quick and determined. My body was so sore and weak, but I still managed to follow him outside.

"Simon, stop!" I called out, my voice hoarse. "You can't blame him for this."

He spun around, his eyes blazing. "Then who should I blame, Nora? Myself? I can't lose you. I can't lose anything more."

Simon turned around again, rage burning inside him. I knew he was going to beat the hell out of Johnny.

I saw Johnny standing with Gaz, talking to him. He saw Ghost approaching and knew something was really wrong and he was going to be answerable.

"Hey, LT!" Johnny greeted, but he was met with a punch to his face. He fell to the ground.

"LT, what the fuck!" Johnny exclaimed, stunned.

Gaz stepped forward, trying to intervene.

"Bloody hell, Johnny!" Ghost spat, his chest heaving with rage.

I approached Ghost, my fists clenched. Putting my hand on his chest, I pushed him. My hand flew into the air as I slapped Ghost hard across his face. My fingers landed on his masked jaw and I regretted because it hurt aftwards.

"Enough!" I yelled, my voice echoing across the base.

All the soldiers, including Alejandro and Rodolfo, glanced at each other, their expressions a mix of surprise and concern.

Ghost looked away before turning back to me. He was shocked, caught off guard by the slap. I didn't want to hit him in front of everyone, but I couldn't stand seeing Johnny being blamed for something that wasn't his fault.

"Simon Riley! You have disappointed me," I spat. "Who the hell are you to blame Johnny for what happened to me? The last thing I wanted to see is you two fighting because of me."

Ghost's eyes widened, pain and regret flickering across his face.

"You are a jealous prick, Lieutenant Riley," I continued, my voice trembling with anger. "You know, you should have let me die there. Why did you even save me when you had already failed to protect me?" I barked, my voice echoing through the tense silence.

Ghost's jaw tightened, his eyes filled with a mixture of hurt and frustration. "Nora, I—"

"Don't!" I cut him off, tears streaming down my face. "Don't try to justify it. You weren't there when I needed you the most."

The soldiers around us stood frozen, the gravity of the situation sinking in. Johnny, still holding his bruised jaw, looked between us with concern.

Ghost took a step closer, his voice low and strained. "Nora, I didn't know. I thought leaving Johnny was the best way to protect you. I was wrong. I'm so sorry."

I shook my head, unable to hold back my sobs. "Sorry won't fix this, Simon. Sorry won't bring back our baby."

He flinched as if struck, the weight of my words sinking deep into his soul. "I know," he whispered. "I know, and I'll carry that guilt for the rest of my life. But please, let me be there for you now."

"I don't need anyone now," I said, my voice trembling with anger and sorrow. "I fought for myself when my office burned in front of me. When I was dragged by those dogs, I was all alone. When they crushed my spirit, I was all alone."

With that, I took out the Beretta resting in his chest holster, switching off the safety.

I put the barrel to my temple.

"Let me die and get this over with. I don't want to live in this nightmare anymore. At least I will reunite with my father."

"Nora! Please don't. Please, please, my love, don't do this." Ghost pleaded, his voice breaking in front of everyone.

"Don't come close, or I will pull the trigger," I warned, my eyes wild with despair.

"Please, don't do this. Please!" His voice broke with emotion as he fell to his knees in front of me, his hands in surrender. "Please, babe! Please forgive me."

His desperate plea cut through the haze of my pain. I could see the agony in his eyes, the guilt, and the fear. It was a raw, unfiltered emotion that matched my own.

"Simon, you don't understand," I whispered, tears streaming down my face. "I've lost everything. I can't go on like this."

"Let me die, please," I pleaded through my tears.

"No, love. Please," Ghost's voice cracked, and for the first time, I saw him break. Tears streamed down the skull mask he wore, his shoulders shaking with emotion.

Then he cried, cried like a little kid when he had lost his mother, his whole family.

"I have lost everyone, Nora! I don't want to lose you. I can't do this anymore without you," he confessed between sobs.

Captain Price, Alejandro, Soap, and Gaz looked on in shock. They had never seen Simon break like that before. The stoic soldier they knew was crumbling before their eyes, his vulnerability laid bare for all to see.

My hands trembled as I let the gun fall to the ground. Walking toward him, I fell to my knees and embraced him tightly.

He rested his chin on my shoulder, his sobs muffled against my skin. He whimpered when he cried like a little kid which broke my heart. I had never seen a man crying like this my whole life.

"I love you, Nora. I can't live without you. I'm so tired," he whispered tightening his arms around me.

"I can't either," I sobbed. "Sshh, it's okay," I reassured him, gently stroking his back.

"I'm so sorry, Simon. I wasn't myself."

"Promise me you won't do that again," he said, looking into my eyes.

I touched my forehead to his. "Never. I will never do this again. I promise."

We stayed like that for a while when he stood up keeping me in his embrace and lifting me up in his arms.

I heard Captain Price clear his throat. Simon let me go slowly.

"If you two love birds are done we have some interrogation to proceed with." Captain Price smiled looking at me.

"I will be back. Go and rest Nora." He kissed me on my forehead before picking up his gun from the ground.

"That hurt bad." He pointed towards his cheek and winked before turning to go.